#i just need to title it.... i might take a lyrics from men by the dodos

[pyrriax]

the joys of being hopelessly fixated on a headcanon you made while knowing basically nothing about the thing you were headcanoning.

and writing three fics centered around it. just because. even though its the most canon ignoring thing possible

its like 6k total and i am not posting this i think

+ the other two/three that i havent even written, theyre just rotting in my brain

[anika-ann]

Pomiluj me (Love Me Tender) - S.R.

Type: medieval/fantasy/fairy tale AU; standalone (NOT a part of this medieval AU)

Pairing: knight Steve Rogers x reader   Word Count: 10k 😁 best possible division if needed is at the first divider

Summary: Knight Steven Rogers and his brothers in arms are returning home after having tackled an unruly creature terrorizing the people of Starkerbürg. Upon encountering an injured woman, Steven offers to bring her – carry her, truly – back to her home. How could he deserve a knighthood if he left a woman in distress to her fate, after all? 

But not everything it as it seems. And love blooms in the most unlikely of places. 

Warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, unprotected sex (shocking in medieval times huh), bit of angst, tons of fluff, himbo knights in BBC Merlin style (long live the legends), knight Steve ‘cause he’s a warning, Slovak language ‘cause I can

A/N: Title from the song which inspired the story, Pomiluj mě (Love on Me/Love Me Tender)...tumblr cannot handle an “ě “in their title 🙃 Lyrics, translation and link here, you’ll find a few lines in the fic as well - truly recommend. DIVIDER by @firefly-graphics

A/N/2: AO3 says this is my 100th work (as posted here anyway) and I’m brushing 1,680k of words written according to the counter. Which… whoa. And it’s almost six years since I first posted a marvel fic 🥺 Enjoy!

Alone, you only wander in the dark Chased by the cold I shall light up the torch you’re guarding

Should I be worried about you That all you do is take When are you coming back to me?

The cavalry moved rather slowly.

The noble men appeared a far cry from the polished image known from books, even as they had attempted to wash in a river. They reeked of battle, smoke and blood still; and the drying blood in their wounds was just as red as that of ordinary men, the scent of sweat and fear having seeped into their clothes and armour. And yet, their vests carried the sigil of Starkerbürg with pride, signaling the knights’ dedication to the protection of their kingdom.

With only horse left, they truly might make a pitiful sight, certain weariness to their step; but an air of victory and camaraderie made for a picture of life instead. Laughter sounded between the group, a joke thrown around here and there, a tease about a wound each of them suffered, particularly the youngest one. Despite those, true concern for their new friend, Sir Parker, could be read in their eyes. He was the youngest to ever been dubbed in the history of Starkerbürg; it was no wonder the good men assigned him the role he would have played had the bond they shared been one of a blood family. The youngest of brothers was as much made fun of as protected, since he was eager to prove he deserved the honour to ride with the knights of Starkerbürg just like any other. Now he sat on the horse in front of Sir Barton, the eldest, as they made their way back after successfully ridding the kingdom of a horrific creature: the chimera had been believed to only exist in old tales until it brought terrible and painfully real suffering to the people of the west of the kingdom and so the king’s loyal servants were tasked to ride at dawn five days ago.

“Alright, alright, let us leave the poor lad,” Sir Barton said, patting the young Sir Parker on his shoulder a little too hard. “He shall do better next time.”

Peter smiled over his shoulder gratefully, having started to feel not humbled, but humiliated.

“Yes, yes, we should let him be,” Sir Maximoff agreed, side-eyeing the two riders mischievously. “We should talk about how you moved like an old lady.”

The collective ooooooh and chuckles might have as well come from a group of children, rather than grown men, causing Sir Barton to glare at the cheeky lad he called a friend.

“Old ladies are wise and worth of respect, Maximoff. You could learn a thing or two from them, as you had learned from me,” he scoffed, feigning offence. “Do not forget who taught you how to swing a sword, kiddo.”

“There is a point in what Clint is saying,” Sir Wilson hummed good-naturedly, raising his eyebrow at Pietro in challenge.

“Maybe. Does not change the fact he’s grown seven years older since then, while I have grown seven years more mature.”

The explosion of laughter following his statement was louder this time.

“In your dreams, maybe,” Sir Barnes snorted, elbowing his best of friends, Sir Rogers. “About as mature as this one was when he used to pick his battles with guys twice his size, eh?”

Sir Rogers, Steven to most, only smirked, speaking up for the first time in a while, since his thoughts were far far away. “Should we get technical, we all took up on an enemy twice our size only yesterday morning.”

“Oh?” Sir Barton feigned surprise. “Listen to the guy. He might tell you what brought the monster to its knees next – an arrow straight to its eye. Remind me, Maximoff, whose crossbow it was that fired it?” he asked pointedly, grinning down at the man walking by their horse, earning an eyeroll.

“Did it even have knees?” Sir Lang questioned, “All I know is that it was a nasty, nasty thing.”

“Nastier than Hydra? Cut off one had, two shall takes its place? I truly believed that was only a legend…” Sir Wilson said, a visible shiver of disgust shaking him.

“Not sure we can compare the two… maybe Barnes or Rogers could, huh?” Sir Maximoff suggested.

Steven’s face darkened; he did indeed remember the hydra creature very well for it nearly cost his best friend his arm. The scars still littered Bucky’s skin, from the back of his hand all the way up to his shoulder; Gods had blessed him enough that his ability to use his arm remained intact, even as its appearance did not.

As for the strange chimera they had slayed yesterday… it was true that Steven had gotten more familiar with it then he would have liked. He could recall it with uncomfortable clarity: its foul breath smelling of death on his face, feeling as if it had seeped deep into his very bones when he had finally thrusted his sword through its heart. He could still hear the clang of teeth near his neck, a near death sentence.

No, he would rather not compare the two. He would rather not think of either of the creatures at all.

“Why us, Maximoff? Because I nearly lost my arm to the former and my best friend to latter? No thanks,” Sir Barnes hissed, face turning ashen as well.

Steven instinctively reached for his friend, squeezing his arm, casting a concerned glance as he was torn away from his own dark memories.

“Buck…”

“Are you jesting? Sir Rogers was incredible,” Sir Parker cried out excitedly, having four of the knights groan, for Steven’s bravery – or idiocy, should anyone ask Sir Barnes, truly – was all the youngest knight had been talking about for the majority of their journey, causing Steven’s cheeks redden under his beard, sense of pride and satisfaction battling the terror of the memory. As for the remaining knights, well; while they did not diminish Steven’s important contribution of delivering the fatal blow, they had grown annoyed at the constant babble.

“Sure he was, kiddo.”

“Oh yes. They should probably knight him. Oh wait-“ Sir Wilson said, causing the men to laugh.

“Yeah, a set of deadly teeth perhaps three inches from his throat? Let him have all the glory and Princess Morgana’s hand too,” Sir Barnes grumbled, sending his friend both a proud and irked glance.

A sudden rustle of leaves and a woman’s yelp followed by a thud caused them all fall silent and turnbattle-ready in a split second, snapping in the direction of noise.

However, there was little need for caution. Their intruder barely appeared dangerous: the peasant woman observed them with wide eyes and forehead scrunched in pain, blossoms of common elder, spilled all around her like precious silks of a gown instead of the worn fabric of the simple shirt, shawl and ankle-length skirt, speaking thousand words of what she had been doing until she had fallen. Her fingers were clutching at her left foot, a clear sign of her ungraceful landing. The tree was by no means tall, but that should not mean the fall was what they could call comfortable.

For a moment, the group of knights stood frozen, rendered speechless as much as the poor woman who found herself face to face with not one but seven of the crown’s most loyal servants.

Steven, perhaps the kindest of them all, was the first to snap from the shock of an unexpected disturbance of their journey, releasing the grip on his sword, never having drawn it from its sheath. He took several long strides to the young woman, instantly capturing her attention.

“My lady, are you quite alright?” Steven inquired, gently as he realized his large frame, accentuated by his armour, might intimidate the poor sweetling.

And yet. Just as the question left his lips and his gaze met hers, he was the one rendered mute all of sudden.

Steven had never seen anyone more clearly, he was certain; and just as sure he was of the fact that no woman could ever hope to encompass sincerity and beauty in her eyes only as the one he was facing at the moment.

Her smile was but a shy little thing, pain masked by gratitude for the knight’s care. He was a handsome one, of robust built but with delicate lines to his face, bright blue irises with a speckle of green, plush lips framed by a short beard; distantly, she imagined his wide shoulders would barely fit the doorframe of her cabin – of her hut, truly. She found the imagery enticing, almost as much as the gentle tone he had spoken with despite his giant frame.

“’Quite aright’ seems accurate, sir. I am not hurting much beyond my left ankle,” she admitted, even as her source of discomfort was evident from her hand still covering the affected area.

Steven’s brows furrowed slightly in worry, yet he made no move, spoke no words, even as his lips parted. Instead, his eyes roamed the woman’s face, searching and fascinated. It was the silence which prompted his comrades to enter the interaction.

“Do you think you can walk?” Sir Wilson asked as he stepped forward – a movement barely acknowledged as the woman did not shift her gaze from Steven still.

“Wobble, perhaps,” she said, the corners of her lips briefly turning downwards. “Could perhaps one of you assist me? I should be most grateful for your chivalry.”

Sir Barnes could scoff at the absurdity of her wording; even as she suggested she would welcome anyone’s aid, her fixation on Steven was ridiculously evident. It almost scared him, how steadily she watched him; even as ladies’ interest in his best friend’s company had increased significantly along with how Steven’s muscles had grown, the way this woman observed him… unsettling him for some reason.

“Oh! We should borrow you the horse for a while-“ Sir Parker – bless him, the youngest and the purest of heart of them all – cried out, soon silenced by a more sombre voice of reason of Sir Barnes.

“Kid, you lose your leg should you put your weight on it now. Believe me, I have almost lost my arm to the same foolishness.”

“…oh.”

“Well, I suppose one of us should support you and walk you to your home,” Sir Barton suggested nonchalantly, preparing to dismount the horse. “The most experienced one of us, perhaps?”

“Truly? Is that so, Clinton?” Sir Wilson questioned as he eyed him, his tone carrying wryness of a man who would not care for nonsense – unless it was one that could earn him a great deal of fun. “Why you?”

“I have a pair of very well-working eyes for one,” the older man uttered, causing sir Maximoff to snicker silently.

“So do I and yet I would never offer!” Sir Lang opposed as soon as he understood the meanings behind Sir Barton’s words. “Must we remind you how inappropriate that would be, since you have a lovely wife and three kids at home?”

“And a knee that knows a rain is coming at least two sunsets ahead?” Sir Barnes added for honestly, the foolishness of Sir Barton’s idea battled the one of the youngling’s.

“Ugh, alright then. Spoilsports.”

Sir Maximoff, unsurprisingly, grinned and shrugged as he stepped forward. “Ah, well, fellas, it seems-“

“I can do it. I can even carry her.”

Sir Barnes sighed, an involuntary reaction to best of comrades choosing this moment to snap from his reverie. Speaking of foolishness.

Not once had Steven’s gaze left the beautiful woman since the very moment he had laid his eyes on her, almost as if he was drawn by ancient power whose pull not even his virtuous heart could resist. The pull had been literal too; while the movements had been subtle, step by step Steven inched closer to the woman, now standing barely three feet from her, way too close even as he had been the first to spring forward.

Sir Barnes would be amazed and certainly more than amused at his friend’s antics, had it not been for the fact the scene was as fascinating as disconcerting. For a myriad of reasons. Beginning with-

“You are injured as well,” Sir Wilson noted pointedly.

Sir Wilson appeared to be the only of the men aside from Sir Barnes who had not lost all reason in the midst of all of them having acquired an expression of awe and smugness. In all fairness, the reaction of the knights was nothing short of understandable, for Steven, Sir Rogers, who had kept from many women who had been rather literally battling for his attention, seemed enamoured all of sudden. And of all creatures, enamoured by a beautiful, yet the most ordinary of women. He appeared if not utterly lost to the fabled love at first sight, then certainly lost enough to abandon all reason.

“Oh no, if you are severely injured, I could not possibly-“ the woman resisted, gathering her skirt in attempt to stand up as if to prove she was considerably less inconvenienced by absence of aid than it had originally appeared.

Naturally, her efforts were doomed to failure – and just as naturally, Steve had been there to catch her, promptly supporting her weight. She had barely caught herself, one palm flat against his chest, the other on his bicep, lips parted in silent surprise; and much to the amusement of all knights, in awe of his strength.

Sir Rogers was certainly not the only one of the pair who appeared smitten.

“Thank you, good Sir.”

“Sir Steven Rogers, my lady. I should be happy to aid you,” he pronounced, the words ‘with anything’ unsaid but clearly implied as he helped her straighten up as much as her own injury allowed. “I have not been injured severely. Worry not.”

Needless to say, Sir Barnes would argue; bruised ribs, several cuts, more so when one of them sat right above his brow, should be considered severe enough not to carry a woman in his arms… particularly when these injuries were coupled with a heavy blow to the head. Before, Sir Barnes had not been sure how strong of a hit Steven had taken, but now, seeing how absent of any common sense Steven was-

Ah. His best friend was being quite himself, now that Sir Barnes thought of it.  

“…so we are to ignore there are at least three better candidates whose ribs are not bruised or-“ Peter muttered in low voice to his companions, all but earning a warning slap to his healthy leg as Sir Lang gently shushed him, himself charmed by the romantic ballad-worthy scene in front of them.

“Seeing as she does, I suppose we do too,” Sir Maximoff scoffed lowly, tilting his head to side as he observed his comrade, suddenly frowning, his voice dropping to a whisper. “And so does he. Is he alright? He looks… strange. Has any of you put something in his water?”

“You are saying this as if you were not as miffed about him being chosen by her as I am,” Sir Barton huffed, sourness turning into humour at the other man’s misery.

Pietro’s gaze torn away from the pair, their downright love-sick gazes suddenly difficult to watch; it almost felt as if by looking at them, they were prying on an intimate moment. Pietro thought it curious, for he had never had any issues of laughing loud at the displays of affection his fellow knights had offered in the Tower tavern for everyone to see, but he did not want to examine it too hard. He could find joy elsewhere once they had made it to the city, with no shortage of ladies no doubt willing to offer comfort to the heroes of Starkerbürg.

“He is one lucky bastard,” he sighed, patting the horse’s neck, preparing to take off.

“And lucky he might get…” Sir Wilson sing-sang quietly, causing the group to laugh as their gazes once again appreciated the almost palpable spark between the unlikely couple, exchanging knowing glances as the woman gasped when Steven sneaked his arms under her knees and back, lifting her into his arms with ease despite his gear weighting him down.

“Alright, it is settled. We are certain you are safe with Sir Rogers…” Sir Barton called out, entirely ignored by the pair who instead kept observing one another without as much as a blink, as if they could not bear losing even a fraction of the precious time they were given. “For he is-- they are not even listening to me, are they? No one cares about me anymore, I truly must be getting old-”

Sir Barnes sighed again, realization dawning to him; one he should never share with his companions, but one he would for certain inquire about later when Steven returned to the castle.

“We shall move then,” he muttered, beckoning others towards the road, not before sparing the couple a last slightly disapproving glance.

He feared not for his most precious friend’s safety; he only feared for his heart, too big even for the impressive size his body had grown into since his early days as a weakling. At the moment, it was his mind Bucky feared for, since it almost seemed feeble under a spell of a beautiful woman. A spell no one dared to break.

As the group walked away, each of their steps was uncharacteristically silent; until they believed to reach enough of a distance to have a boisterous laugh about Sir Rogers no doubt to be rewarded for his chivalry. The sound bothered not the pair as they smiled at each other softly, the woman’s thumb brushing over Steven’s sternum, covered by worn chainmail.

The simple touch seemed to reach his soul; his breathing, having already eased since he had first caught her, cleared completely, the ache in his bones gone. The woman’s smile widened, silently prompting Steven to start walking. He was not one to hesitate, his feet moving almost of their own volition.

“You are not obliged to carry me,” she said, a teasing note lacing her gentle voice. “I slowed the landing enough. It is nothing but a bruise.”

Steven shook his head, appearing as if he was barely holding back a grin. “But I must, my lady. It is my duty as a knight of Starkerbürg.”

She pursed her lips, one corner lifting in a smirk.

“Oh? Is it so, my good sir? Hm... speaking of knights of Starkerbürg, Sir Rogers,” she emphasized, a playful spark appearing in her eye, “your friends act like children.”

Undignified for a knight for certain – yet who was he to diminish the already scraped reputation of men who truly unsubtly jested about him taking advantage of the very woman in distress he was to help – Steven snorted.

“Don’t I know it.”

“But Samuel might not be wrong…“ she said, voice equally full of amusement and promise. “Set me down, Steven. You must be tired.”

Tired he was not. Not ever since he had met the woman’s eyes moments ago and recognized their beauty and depth as familiar. But who was he to deny a lady?

And a lady she was, for all she was and was not. They might have jested about it together, but in Steven’s mind, she was precisely that and nothing less, no matter what any half-wit of this kingdom would think. Slowly, he lowered her back to her feet, his heart thundering in his ribcage in anticipation as he focused on the sounds surrounding them.

Content with only gentle whisper of the wind and songs of robins for a company, his worn hands cradled the woman’s cheeks, thumbs brushing over her cheekbones, heart trembling when she leaned into his touch, her lips brushing his palm.

In return, the tips of her fingers ghosted over his brow, the nasty cut closing at once, without a single sting of pain. She focused on that aspect often, even as she knew he would try and not as much as flinch for her benefit, much like he had not when she healed his ribs earlier.

“Thank you. They must be far enough now, I am sure,” he whispered, stepping closer so their bodies aligned and nearly merged in one. “Do not hide from me, bosorka moja. Let me see you, beautiful.”

Her smile turned a little coy, even as her soul sang at his sweet words. Steven was quite a master of compliments; but not a shameless flirt or a rake. What he said always came from heart; that beautiful, beautiful heart he had sworn belonged to her and never made her question it despite their situation.

“As you wish, good sir,” she whispered, fingertips sliding down his cheekbone, repairing the darkening bruising in their wake, before she turned focus on her own transformation. “Close your eyes, love, release me for just a moment.”

With a sigh of disappointment – but eager to oblige – Steven lifted his hands an inch, missing the lovely heat under his touch at once, and let his eyes slide close. Soft light caressed his skin, flickering behind his closed eyelids as her features shifted, her cloaking spell dispersing.

Steven did not fight the smile tugging at his lips as he allowed himself to open his eyes again just as the glow was dying out, welcomed by the sight of his beloved in her true face. The spell she had casted changed her features but a bit, only enough to protect her from those who would still hunt her upon mere suspicion of her being a magical creature. She appeared just as human as before; but should a half-wit still nursing grudges against magic even century and half since its dark side caused people to suffer ever recognize her as anything else… Steven did not wish to imagine what hell would have been raised; even as it would have been one he would fight to death against.

Indeed, she appeared human even in her true form to most, Steven assumed. Yet, to him, she appeared almost ethereal; she always had. From the very moment she had walked into his life and took his world by gentle storm, slowly nursing him back to health day by day from multiple wounds which would have been his doom. She had risked her own life in process, revealing her talents to anyone, let alone a knight of Starkerbürg, but for a good deed, she had barely even hesitated.

Beautiful, powerful, brave and endlessly kind; and now, by the blessing of gods, even as Steven failed to be a proper gentleman, his.

He let his fingers slide into her hair, tilting her face up to feast his eyes on her features, heart humming pleasantly as only a person who owned it could make it hum.

It was clearer than the skies that she felt just the same. Drawing him close, not waiting for his prompting, she rose to her tiptoes and brushed his lips with hers, sweet and healing. No cut was there for her to fix, but it appeared that whenever she kissed him, even with no magic involved as she had claimed, Steven’s often weary soul was lifted.

He followed her lips, earning a hearty chuckle but no protest, a hand on his nape as her fingers curled in his hair as well.

“Bosorka moja,” he said softly against her lips before tasting them again, greedy for every stolen moment, every stolen kiss she was willing to give him.

And she would give him a lifetime, much like he would give his own to her.

But there was not a single reason to do it right where they stood. One more peck to his lips and she escaped his arms sneakily, only to grab at his hand with both of hers, tugging him down the now familiar path.

“Come, rytier moj.”

And so he followed her, without a word of protest. He would follow his heart anywhere.

Their destination was by no means far, they were in no rush. Unbeknownst to Sir Barnes, his thoughts had been precisely on point – the pair of lovers cherished every moment spent together, may it be walking with purpose or wandering.

This day, they chose the former, the hut soon appearing in a barely-there clearing among the trees. Steve’s lips curled in a smile on instinct as despite the humble outside state of the tiny house, he knew what he would find upon entering with his love and lover by his side. A home. Not only hers; theirs. A safe space for their love.

As soon as they entered, the air smelling of herbs and dried meadow flowers, ones he had picked and gifted her the last time he had escaped his knight-bound duties, hit his nostrils and widened his smile. It was met with her own, soft and welcoming, heartbreakingly beautiful; ache echoed in his heart, its emptiness present for the past few days without her suddenly dissolving into nothing.

He brought her hand to his lips, a gentle kiss to her knuckles before releasing her, so they could begin their routine.

From the mountains Wind, dust and defiance is rising I lay your armour to your feet Don’t let my skin get cold at night

Wind from the mountains

Wind, dust and defiance is rising I lay my armour to your feet Don’t let my skin get cold at night

You made your way to the pot, a simple curl of your wrist lighting up a fire to heat the water for tea. Steven’s gaze followed you as he stood by the door, blindly unclasping his belt, putting away his sword and chainmail. He had no need for weapons nor armour in his home; vulnerability in this house was no sign of weakness, but one of strength. It was a privilege he took upon proudly as you were blissfully aware.

Then, you ruminated through your dried herbs in search of chamomile and lavender, even as you knew the exact placement of every single item; once you heard Steven lose his armour and step forward, you looked over your shoulder, offering an unassuming smile – despite assuming quite a lot from the many encounters you had shared before.

“Tea, my love?”

Like clockwork, like the most beautiful habit, you barely got the chance to speak the question before he stood behind you, fingers cradling your chin, angling your head further to meet your lips again, an indulgent smile tasting indulgent smile as neither of you ever believed a tea was to be served. Not yet at least.

Where your first shared kiss after days of being apart tasted of longing, relief and soft smiles, this one tasted of feelings much more primal. Your breath hitched in the briefest surprise at the intensity, yet you responded in earnest, shifting to accommodate his large body, your hands finding purchase of his broad shoulders as soon as you spun around. He rewarded your cooperation with enthusiasm; you yielded to his force with a breathy laugh once he allowed you to retrieve the air he so lovingly stole from your lungs.

“No tea then?”

A hand previously grasping at your hips wrapped around your back to pull you to his chest, three steps leading you to walk backwards until your back brushed the makeshift table, Steven’s lips as urgent as sweet, his beard scratching at your sensitive skin, each breath tickling your lips.

“Would rather drink from your lips, love,” he whispered to your mouth, the only chance for both of you to breathe in before his lips returned. His hold tightened to ground you against his advances, trapping you in a cage of love you could have easily escaped should you wish; yet, you only withdrew for a moment, a cheeky retort on your tongue as your need for him grew with every touch.

“That could be arranged, I believe.”

Glancing up, you were met with his darkened eyes, his hand firm as he held onto your jaw; and yet, his thumb caressed your skin gently, the desire blending into softness and amusement at your bold demeanour. You lifted one corner of your lips in a smirk, gasping when his mouth possessed yours again, teeth tugging at your lower lip, his arm still holding onto your waist – the only thing keeping you from practically laying on the table, his hips pining yours against the hard surface, fingers squeezing your flesh.

Now there was a thought; Steve’s weight rendering you weightless as he’d coax peak after peak from your body laid on the dark wood as an offering to Gods at an altar…

The very thought, however, was fast to dissolve as Steven’s hips rocked into yours, allowing you to feel the outline of his burning need, having you clutch at his shirt as friction teased your throbbing core. He swallowed the needy noise he elicited from your lips, fingers slipping under your shirt, thumb pressing into your skin just above your hipbone as to guide your movements.

You shuddered upon his lips travelling down the column of your throat, teeth grazing skin alongside the hem of your shirt above your collarbone; your hands began their own quest over the hard planes of his body, appreciative of his truly impressive physique. Steven’s fingers roamed as well, caressing and squeezing, your given name but a breathy whisper when his fingertips stroked the underside of your breasts.

You nearly missed his words due to the blissful sensation, but you had heard the silent plea spoken so many times before there was no mistaking it.

“Dance for me, my love?”

Your swollen lips curled in a playful smile as his fingers carded through your hair, kiss brushing your cheek and jaw and finally your mouth again.

“Oh? Is that what you wish for, lover mine?”

His gaze followed the patterns his fingertips whispered over your face as if they were brushes painting the most precious canvas, a curious contradiction to his eager kisses and hardness.

“Would you hold it against me?” he inquired in a hushed voice, stealing yet another kiss from your waiting lips, his nose gently caressing yours before his gaze bore into yours with intensity again, “that I wish to see something so beautiful and so alive after a battle?”

The amusement slipped from your face, features softening as your heart sored at the subtle confession. The knights of Starkerbürg were full of jest and gestures so great they might border on insanity when situation allowed it. Their bravery was a thing of legends, as much of a legend as the thing you knew they had gone to fight days ago and were only now returning, having bested a mythical creature much more vicious and deadly than yourself, crushing life with not more than one bite to a man’s flesh.

Yet, for all their heroism, even knights, even the most precious of them all – even your Steven – felt the disarming fear of death itself, cruel and all too powerful. You would be always be more than willing to remind him of the power of life for a change, until you’d release yours with your last breath.

Ad so the answer was no – no, you would not hold it against him, whatever he would ask. Never him.

Standing on your tiptoes, framing his face with your hands, his whiskers and already messy hair ticking your palms, you told him as much, sealing your deal with a kiss.

Easing his grip, he allowed you to push against chest, easily giving in as you lead him to walk backwards until his calves hit the frame of your bed. He sat down obediently and you leaned into him, stealing another brief peck.

“Please, bosorka moja,” he pleaded once more as your forehead touched his, taking a moment to breathe him in, reminding yourself that both you indeed were still alive; and thus, such victory should be celebrated with joys life itself provided. “Dance for me, my love.”

Smiling, you placed a finger over his lips to shush him at last, gliding several steps back, mischief appearing in your eyes as his own followed your every movement hungrily, more so when you slipped out of your shawl, the shirt far from brushing the waist of the skirt suddenly hanging low on your hips, providing Steve with a silver of skin of your stomach.

There was no music but the howl of the wind carrying the occasional note by chaffinches and dunnocks and rustles of leaves. Yet, an old old melody echoed in your heart, guiding your movements and filling you with power and confidence of all witches that came before you and enchanted men into giving away their kingdom without as much as a fleeting thought, surrendering their strength and their hearts, all that only to be blessed with a single sinful glance, a single touch of magic as old as humanity itself. For a single drop of passion.

You could feel it fill the air, the longing and thirst for life and body, your lover’s eyes turning dark, hypnotized by the simple swirls of your wrists above your head, at your sides, following every slide of the back of your hands over your ribs, over your bare skin, his visceral need to replace your touch with his own. Drinking in but the smallest motions of your hips, breath hitching at the briefest tilt of your head back or to side, his lips tingling to attach themselves to the exposed skin of your throat, to taste, to suck a bruise. The force with which his fists curled into themselves seemed to ignite sparkles in the air, bringing a sensual smile to your lips as you let your eyes slip shut, feeling the energy hum louder when you moved closer; a sweet thunder within you, within Steve, all around you.

The thud of Steve’s knees on the floor came with his hands grasping your hips; needy but not firm, only to feel the slow movements of your hips and allow you to continue swinging freely. You released a breath, head tipping backwards as Steve’s hot lips found the now burning skin of your stomach, nosing his way up an inch at a time, beard tickling, an open-mouthed kiss following and causing you to shudder – with pleasure, with overwhelming power.

“Steven-“

“Keep dancing, bosorka moja,” he hummed into your skin with a pleased smile, teeth grazing over your belly button as if to distract you from his rough but deft fingers slipping under the waist on your skirt, inching it lower and lower until it hit the floor. Cold air brushed over your bare core, Steven’s lips trailing to the junction of your thigh, his smile growing wicked. “I shall help you dance.”

The very first flicker of his tongue over your pearl had you stutter in your movements, a whimper leaving your lips as Steven’s fingers dug deep into your flesh of your sides and thighs, a wordless warning not to cease the dance he had pleaded for. With a shudder of a breath, you willed yourself to continue, naturally rocking onto his hot tongue as it swept over your weeping core with indulgence, stars flashing behind your closed eyelids at the contrast of the slick muscle to the scrapes his beard left behind.

“Steven-“

“Shhh,” your lover whispered, the sound gentle and teasing at once, the pleasant vibration against your sensitive flesh causing your fingers to find way into his hair and grip, only earning another appreciative hum. “Keep dancing, love.”

And so you did. Leaning into the affection so willingly offered, you succumbed to a different kind of dance. Fingers flexing in Steven’s hair upon a particularly smart swirl of his tongue, breathless praise, calls to Gods and desperate pleas for more more more spilling from your lips. Meeting his ministrations without shame; guiding him, opening up for him as the liquid fire of pleasure spread through your veins, turning into an inferno when you found your thigh on his shoulder, completely out of your doing, an instinct to chase relief – but thoroughly appreciated as Steven’s arm circled your bottom, pulling you impossibly close and loving you deep enough to set you on fire entirely.

You let the primal hunger consume you as you climbed to your peak, crying out when you reached it, head spinning from the intensity; waves of bliss washed over you, body pliant and relaxed. You shrieked when you suddenly found yourself losing your footing, for a brief moment frustratingly empty and cold; and then you were spread on the table, your lover’s lips wrapped around your bundle of nerves, burning blue gaze swallowed by lust firmly set on your face as two thick fingers entered you, latching onto the last aftershocks of your peak. You reached a second high with dizzying speed, unable to tear your gaze away from your giving – and so, so wicked – lover. Gods could possess you at that moment and you would have not felt as if you ascended to such heights as you had while indulging on Earthly pleasures with him.

A soft trail of kisses and pets soothed you as you came down, a breathless chuckle bleeding into a sob when you noticed few of your possessions floating in the air, your magic quite literally having exploded outside of you.

Steven’s lips curled into a smile against your jaw and then you were tasting your essence – as well his much-satisfied grin – on your tongue, revelling in the warm weight of his body covering yours. It seemed your Steven had a few magic tricks up his sleeve too, mind-reading being one of them. You smiled into the kiss, using your grip on his hair to pull him even closer. He could never be close enough; and as he stood between your spread legs, his hard bulge brushing against your bare core, his lips and hands eager, you were certain he felt just the same.

“So beautiful for me,” he whispered to your mouth before retreating, darkened eyes sparkling with lust and pride as well as affection.

“And yours,” you hummed, fingers raking through his beard appreciatively, chuckling when fresh hunger flashed in his pupils. Oh how possessive your knight could be… how much joy it brought you to tease him. “Should I show you?”

A breathy yes was your only answer and so you gripped his shirt, using the fabric for leverage to you sit up. You kissed him again, hands sliding under his garments, gliding over his stomach, your magic flowing freely and healing whichever injuries you had missed earlier.

Easily ridding him of his shirt and pants in between sweet encounters of lips and shedding your clothes as well, you wrapped your legs around his waist, a faint whisper of ‘bed’ enough to have him pick you up without protest; on contrary, with quite the enthusiasm since his hardness throbbed when you led him to sit down with you in his lap.

“Missed you… love you… need you,” you confessed, his breathy voice echoing your sentiments as your lips brushed over every patch of his skin in reach, fingers wrapping around him and guiding him inside you, bliss surrounding you both when you finally sank yourself down his length in one fluid movement.

You rested your forehead against his and simply breathed, living in the moment of utter bliss; a different kind, not the almost primitive one, no, not the wild one. This moment belonged to serenity. Sharing air and warmth with your lover, tender hands appreciating the wide planes of his muscles, strength radiating from flesh and soul alike. And love. Always love.

As if he was able to read your mind once more, his lips sought out yours, a declaration of love indeed, simple, honest and unyielding. His thumb gently traced the pattern of your tattoo, its ink reaching from behind your ear over the side on your neck, a swirl over your left collarbone and spreading over your shoulder. I love you as you are, for all you are, his touch whispered even as no sound left his lips. And even if you felt no shame for your nature, your Steven’s acceptance caressed your soul as did his diligence; not once he had forgotten his ritual of reminding you that with him, your existence was not merely tolerated – but adored and celebrated. When you first understood the significance of this habit of his, tears had stung your eyes, kissed away before they could roll down your cheeks.

“Ľúbim ťa,” you had breathed out then, a love confession in the old language, and ever since, you had not failed to say it once in response to his gesture.

Then, rough fingertips carefully followed the line of a fine silver chain carrying a tear-shaped indigo sapphire, a token of affection usually hidden from plain sight, protected; a promise of faithfulness even as you remained unwed. You had no need for gemstones, but you understood its importance, the significance of the gesture; it made for your heart warm and safe upon its possession and for Steven’s heart lighter a pound of the burden of your circumstance.

Your circumstance was not one of the simple ones, a forbidden love one might say; in which you were the only forbidden thing. Forbidden to even live, let alone love or be loved; an abomination to some. A magic wielder, no doubt seducing the most honourable with her dark powers, for what other reason could be there for him to take liking in you? It mattered not that there was less than a little true to it, that your bond was of much purer nature, as common and as human as the blood you drew from your own veins to cast protection spells over your beloved. True did not matter. Should you reveal your relationship now, Steven would have been painted a victim; and you would have lived no more.

An easy circumstance yours was not at all; but your dedication to each other was to conquer all troubles. And in the meantime, you shall have moments of serenity and of passion, of you and him.

The smallest shift of Steven’s hand pulled from your thoughts, breath hitching when his fingers slid an inch lower, brushing over your nipple. Your hips buckled on instinct, drawing a groan from your lover’s lips, a grip on your bottom encouraging you to move.

Who were you to deny pleasure to you both?

Smiling, you withdrew, index finger covering Steve’s lips as he tried to follow, a discontent furrow to his brow. You tilted your head, thumb brushing over his swollen lips.

“Would you like me to dance still, lover mine?” you inquired teasingly, his disapproval at your actions wiped away in an instant, replaced by fire in his eyes.

Gentle flames of affection battled those of desire, his warm palm caressing over your lower cheeks, before he snapped you impossibly close, causing you to gasp – and to question who it was who had the upper hand here. Your hand fell to his chest, his heart beating wildly under your palm, an answer of its own.

Both then. It seemed you were both on top and simultaneously under the other’s thumb. Such a beautiful thing.  

“Would you, bosorka moja?”

Your smile grew, lips attaching to his once more and planning to remain for as long as possible, first careful rock of your hips the first step to reach for the stars – together this time.

“Oh Steven… for my honourable knight? For you, my love? With pleasure…”

An absent smile played on Steve’s lips, his fingers running up and down your arm, appreciating the softness and warmth of your skin. An air of comfort and contentedness hovered around you as he held you close, fast asleep in his arms, cheek pressed to his chest as if the very sound of his heart against your ear lulled you to peaceful slumber.

Despite the sweetness of the idea, Steve felt his brows furrow in concern. While as he was perfectly happy to serve as a pillow for his beautiful lover, aware there was barely any greater expression of trust than a shared sleep, worry seized him for this occurrence was beyond rare. He once asked whether your incredible magic was an effortless as you made it seem, met with a weary chuckle and a kind, if a little condescending smile and a confession that if seen weak, your kind would have been an easy prey. Having understood he had taken your answer as a testimony to the lack of trust you had laid in him, you had also admitted that while the teachings of your ancestors had been deeply ingrained in your instincts, part of your reluctance to show your weakness to him was precisely what weighted his conscience just now. You simply could not be bothered to make him fret too much.

The fact you had let sleep take you alone was truly worrisome and Steve pondered just how exhausted you must have been. Even as the fresh memory of your breathless pleas for more and the cries of pleasure as you rode him till you both tasted heaven were nothing short of precious to him, he could not but wonder whether he was taking too much; your magic healing his wounds, your body a sanctuary to his love and fears.

Perhaps he had. But who could ever blame him?

Steven had never known a woman like this – unafraid to give, just as unshy to take; one or the other, but never like this. He had fallen for you and had fallen hard, body and soul. Yes, should anyone call him selfish, they would not be wrong, because Gods, did he take what he craved and lusted – and yet. Yet, every moment with you felt ethereally right as your still unconscious form drifted closer, almost as if you sensed his thoughts and wished for them to evaporate. And so far, they always had, dissolved in your easy smile when you refused his offer and plea to come with him; to bring you to the castle with him so he could give as well, give more, provide and protect and worship you in his home, your new home, true home where you would not have to hide in the middle of the woods like some sort of an abomination.

It is not the time yet, my love. It will come, you would always say, washing away his guilt with a sweet kiss and a promise. One day. One day I shall come with you and we should be unabashedly happy with no fear, free to be you and me.

He had let your words and touch sooth him, always; but not today. Your body having melted into his had his protective instinct flare up, determination set in his very heart. He should convince you today, to make you his and him yours as two people in love deserved. He shall make an honest woman of you in the eyes of the whole kingdom at last. It was what you were worthy of, for you were worthy of anything and everything. And with you… he believed he deserved the same. He could not stand it anymore. Parting ways with you, only to hope for your next stolen moment to come the very minute after he had left. He could no longer bear you existing so close and yet so far out of his reach.

No, he shall convince you today, insist more than ever. He wanted this, he wished for nothing more than to lay to sleep like this every night, with you. You deserved it. You deserved the world and he shall lay it to your feet, for his honour and his benefit at once.

Any other day, you would have berated yourself for having fallen asleep; but knowing the changes your body was going through, weariness settling in sooner than it used to, it only brought a smile to your face when you found yourself waking to Steven’s tender fingers carding through your hair.

The night was slowly falling. Wandering the woods in darkness would have been an unnecessary risk for anyone, even for a skilled knight with your protective spell over him;  your lover was more than aware of it and still, you could tell it pained him to bring you out of your slumber nevertheless. It was no feat to kiss his guilt away, smiles adorning your faces, noses caressing, hands wandering, nearly leading you back into the clutches of lust.

He sat patiently on your bed now, half dressed as you took your blade, his eyes following your every move with more attention than ever as he absently sipped chamomile tea; he found himself deep in thought, such was obvious. It was not difficult to guess where his mind had trailed off to, for it had always been the same.

His voice was soft when he spoke the words, a soft wrinkle on his forehead as your cut your finger and stood between his spread legs.

“Come with me.”

A sad smile played in the corner of your lips as your heart fluttered at his plea, one he never failed to deliver, even as your sigh must have sounded weary every time.

“I cannot. Not yet.”

Steven was no half-wit, which was more than could said about many of the people of Starkerbürg. He knew precisely why you could not come; why you never could, at least not yet. Magic was still forbidden – as if it was a choice, as if one could choose to stop breathing and still live – hated for the pain and destruction the dark twisted witches and sorcerers had once left in their wake, misusing magic to spread fear and suffering. It was not just that all magic wielders were still paying the price for what their ancestors had done. It was even less just that you, not having done any harm unless you needed to escape imminent danger to your life, should live a hermit life, too far from your love and lover. Yet it was how times were, still.

But you were no fool either. You could feel Steven’s uneasiness growing heavier every time he left without you, for it went against his very nature, against the need to keep you close, to hold you, to love – to protect you from harm. You had no doubt he would lay his life for you. You could not allow him to do that, not when the time was finally growing near for your love to be cherished as any other, time for your kind to be free. You must not lose him to rushed foolishness. He was no longer only yours to lose.

“I would protect you,” he promised, steely conviction in his husky voice.

As sweet as the sentiment was, you could not but smirk, a knowing gaze reminding him that should the situation require it, you could very well protect yourself, even as your true gift – the one special talent every magic wielder had, naturally developed with barely any practice – was of the healing kind. Should you truly wished, you could burn villages with terrifying ease; gods knew sorcerers and sorceresses had done this and more with a single snap of their fingers.

Steve took no offence in your teasing gaze; but the determination in his own remained unshaken as you begun to draw the protective symbol over his sternum.

“The time is yet come for people to understand the blessings of magic again, for its light to outshine the darkness it had sowed,” you reasoned, as much as it pained you. “The time shall come soon, I promise. It is simply not today, my love.”

Long fingers circled your wrist, gentle but firm, having you cease your movement, your gaze meeting the brilliant blue roaming over your face.

“I miss you. All days, all nights. I-“ he paused, licking his lips, a shadow of hurt passing over his face. “Don’t you?”

Your heart soared, a sigh leaving your lips. Steven was not easy on you today; but your conviction and determination was just as strong as his. You had to be brave and so did he. A few days longer, that would be all you needed. The right time would come. You were certain of it, even as it was nothing but a whisper of intuition in the back of your mind. Wait, the voice said, the time grows near, but you must wait.

“Do not do this, rytier moj,” you scolded Steven, letting gentleness seep into your voice. “It does not suit you. You must know I love you. I miss you too. And I worry. All days. All nights. Therefore…”

You wiggled your fingers, Steven’s shoulders sagging as he released you, an exasperated pout to his lips – unjustly adorable – as you resumed your work. You smiled widely despite your unnerving circumstance; he would give you anything and everything. The knowledge of this, having been reminded by every little gesture, every word he spoke, made for the warmest feeling in your soul.

Content with your handiwork as you drew the last spiral, you had to swallow a chuckle when Steven’s brows furrowed in confusion, head bowing, eyes flickering over the unfamiliar pattern. A triskele instead of a simple two-headed spiral. A symbol speaking more words than your knight could ever imagine in his wildest dreams, you supposed.  

“It’s different.”

Shrugging, you withdrew your hand, calling to your magic to finish the ritual.

“You always draw two spirals connected…” Steve continued, eyes growing large and curious.

“I do”, you agreed softly.

He observed you, intrigued. He had once said he might not understand your power, but he swore he would always try. He would not dare to question your rituals, but you could almost feel how fast his thoughts whirled in a frantic search for an answer. The ritual had remained the same, always, countless times, over and over… why would you steer from it today of all days? What was its significance? What had changed?

Oh Steven. Your sweet, sweet Steven… if he only knew.

“You always say it is about love. The unity of us. You and me,” he said slowly and you nodded, unable to contain your joy any longer, eyes surely glimmering.

“Yes. Our love, you and me. Unity of two.”

His eyes, roaming your face in silent question still, suddenly widened, flickering down and snapping back up as the realization dawned on him, leaving his lips slightly parted.

You simply shrugged, a chuckle shaking your chest, while guilt already began to gnaw at your conscience. You should have not told him, not yet. But how could you have kept it for yourself? How could you have denied yourself a little indulgence, even when knowing nothing could change just yet? You simply wished to see him learn your sweet secret, yours and his, even if for a moment, see he was equally elated.

Your knight did not disappoint you, not that you believed he ever could. His face was a perfect blend of shock and delight, radiating joy and hope and shame and sadness in equal amount as he stammered, shaky hand reaching out to carefully brush his fingers over your belly showing no signs of the treasure growing inside yet.

“You- are you—are we? Oh gods-“ And then, as you predicted, his expression shifted in an instant, determination taking deep root. “Then you must come with me. Allow me to take care of you, to-“

Satisfied and aching at once, you promptly shushed him with your still bloody finger to his lips. A single tear rolled down your cheek; a testimony to happiness, reassured anew of your lover’s goodness and dedication to you. To your family. The wonder, the glimmer of hope and the conviction in Steven’s expression would stay with you till you could grant him his wish.

“The time has not yet come, my love. I share your joy. And your worry,” you whispered through the tightness of your throat, even as a smile adorned your lips. Your finger drew a small cross over his mouth despite the pain it caused you. You had had your moment – and that had to be enough for now. “I am sorry, rytier moj. But you shall not remember this, not yet.”  

Before he could as much as take a breath, you withdrew your hand, the symbols on his chest and lips disappearing with a soft glow. Disoriented, your knight blinked, steadying himself by the hand on your hip even as he remained seated.

With a shaky inhale you composed yourself before he could, leaning forward and planting a tender kiss on his lips, fingers raking through his hair. His hand cradled your jaw, adoring.

“Be careful,” you spoke against his lips, earning another small peck.

“Always.”

You retreated with a huff, shaking your head as you went to find an ointment you knew his friend would soon need.

“You speak as if I did not know you, Steven. A basilisk chimera’s teeth three inches from your throat, I heard? Careful indeed.”

His smile was sheepish as he rose to his full height, tying the top of his shirt before reaching for the garments you had so hastily rid him of earlier.

“I always try. The idea that should I fail, I shall never see you again… it can be quite a motivation,” he sweet-talked, succeeding just a bit in softening your exasperation.

Perhaps the vision of him dutifully putting on his armour, making his frame appear even larger – and protected – calmed you further.

“Well, Steven, try harder,” you snipped, pressing a tiny pot into his hand, earning a raised brow. “And take this to Peter, the wound on his leg was already turning foul. And this…”

You reached for a salve you had prepared for when a wave of nausea had taken you by surprise, dipped your finger in the dark substance and carefully patted it over Steven’s brow where his cut had been. You did not expect Steven to feel nauseous – after all he was not the one carrying a new life under his heart – but the colour was convenient. A cut healing so rapidly would have casted a dangerous suspicion on whoever he had interacted with – or worse, on Steven himself. You could not have that.

He observed you softly as you tended to him, adding a small tap where a bruise had begun to form earlier on his cheekbone. He did not utter a word until you were satisfied with your work. Once your hands fell to your sides, his own framed your face, pressing a kiss to your forehead, your nose and finally your mouth again, a bittersweet goodbye.

“Always so meticulous and careful… always so good. Taking care of me, of my friends…” he mused, breathing you in one last time, hovering, hesitating more than usual. Almost, almost as if your spell had not worked and he still knew. As if he still knew precisely what he was leaving behind this time. “Take care of the person most precious to me too? Until I come back again?”

There might be two of those for you now, you thought, the memory of his delight flashing in your mind, bringing a smile to your lips as you nuzzled into his touch and kissed his palm.

Looking up at his face, you echoed his own reassurance. “Always.”

With one last kiss and hearts as heavy as light, you declared your love to each other. You walked him out quietly, watching him disappear between the trees, his gaze turning to you several times, always finding you standing at the doorstep of his true home, a tender smile on your lips.

Once he was out of sight, you released a sigh, hand settling over your belly, a tear stinging in your eye despite the corners of your lips having been turn upwards.

Yes. The time was yet to come for the people to see again the blessings of magic. For now… the blessing of love already bloomed and it was enough.

Očaruj mě (a fic with the same pairing in the same universe)

S.R. masterlist - contains other knight!Steve fics, independent of this one

Complete masterlist

Yes, I’m mixing symbols, I know… do I care? Nope.

Terms of endearment/addressing used from Slovak language: bosorka moja = witch mine rytier môj = knight mine ľubim ťa = I love you

Thank you for reading!💕 I wrote it in between really difficult exams in the ocourse of two months and it needed a LOT of editing afterwards too, so... feedback is, as always, appreciated 🥰

[aineryeo]

10 Things I Hate About You Jake Kim.

Synopsis: "On the very first day in Jerry Kwon's new school, he instantly falls for Ryang Sang-min, the girl of his dreams. The issue is that Sang-min is forbidden to date until her ill-tempered, completely undateable older sister (You) goes and dates someone too.. In an attempt to solve his problem, Jerry singles out the only guy who might potentially be a match for Ryang (Name): His Senior, the same age as you, Jake Kim."

Themes & Warnings: 2000s Teen-Drama, Romance, Cliches, Fem. POV, Jake is a romantic idiot, slightly OOC, setting is in J-High, a little NSFW

Author Notes:

"Can't Take My Eyes Off Of You" - Frankie Valli | 10 Things I Hate About You (Original Motion Picture Soundtrack)

This is basically the whole movie but the cast is Jake Kim, You, a random character as your younger sister, Vin Jin, Mary Kim, the Practical Music Dept, Big Deal (Jason, Brad, Jerry), and cameos of our favorite characters/main lookism cast <3 I even recreated the title sequence I'm so happy for this! 1/3 parts + The OG Cast are Seniors (Vasco, Crew Heads, Daniel, etc.)

LOOKISM, SOUTH KOREA — 갱단의 삶. » “THE GANGSTER LIFE”

*Set in a school environment & an alternate universe where Jake now attends J-High School, this includes the rest of the crew heads & Big Deal. There are no four major crews and no gangs, but Jake is still renowned as Gapryong Kim's son. Sinu Han is also present.

Chapter 1 (Current) » Chapter 2

Jaewon-High School. A second-rate vocational school that focuses more on giving its students the experience they need for the jobs they want in the department they chose. There are eight (8) departments:

Fashion and Clothing Department

Architecture and Interior Design Department

Beauty Department

Comics and Animation Department

Vocal and Dance Department

Practical Music Department

Baking Department

Computers Department

Out of these eight, you were in your third year in Practical Music. The school was full of tools. The Fashion Dept always flaunted their brand clothes because they’re the only department allowed to wear whatever they want. The Architecture Dept. Always full of creepy guys who don’t look their age. Bundled together in groups to show off their strength or something like that... Unless they have a leader already. A well-known persona in their Dept was a person named Vasco for Burn Knuckles, and he’s a sophomore from what you know. There’s a rumor that a second group of men was formed, but it is not like they were all serious gangs. You hear it was because they like one guy, similar to the Burn Knuckles. 

If that was how the Architecture Dept worked, you could say the same for the Beauty Dept. Except they’re all girls, save for one Senior: Eli Jang. They all love their one boy. You could go on and on about how everyone is the same, readable stereotype. They all do things because they think they should be doing them. To act cool, tough, rich, pretty, or popular, listen to this famous K-pop group or dance to this new pop song. You hate all of it.

What you hate the most right now, though? Freshmen.

“Hey, have you listened to NCT’s new release, 119?”

“Yeah, I waited all night for the exact time of their release, and I memorized all the lyrics, yeah!”

“Already a big fan? You rock! I just mentioned this the other day!”

“You know me~.”

The girls had brightly colored hair, and they played whatever new song they were talking about loudly through the speakers of their phones while you were in the seat just behind them on the bus. Getting annoyed, you remove your headphone’s audio jack from your phone and start playing Bad Reputation by Joan Jett & the Blackhearts at a volume rivaling theirs.

“Hey, what the hell?” The first girl looks back to where you were currently sitting.

Just as they begin to protest, the bus driver halts at the station you get off. You get your bag and walk past them, giving them a natural look that makes them stare back a little before turning their heads in defeat. You? You were still playing your music. As you step off the public transport bus with the girls behind you in tow, grumbling about you ruining their vibe, you’re met with a litter of J-high’s students scattered around the grounds.

As usual, you navigate through the messy crowd. Filled with students who were learning how to skate. Some were walking to school, while the others had their bicycles.

The most intriguing sight you missed once you entered was the freshman in his small bike with a basket. Contrary to his small bicycle was a massive build defying the logic of a teen’s average growth. Pedaling this bike was none other than Jerry Kwon.

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Ki Young-Mi was engraved in the wooden name plaque on the desk filled with books, papers, and a small, thick, and visibly old laptop. Below the name was Guidance Counselor, was it?

Ms. Young was a middle-aged lady with old style, permed hair, and rectangle-shaped glasses that were quite thick for her age, connected to the white-laced retainers wrapped around her neck. Her glasses were tipping around her nose as she looked down at her laptop with puckered lips.

Tap.

Tap, tap, tap.

Tapppp…

That was how slow she typed. Jerry was sitting in front of her desk, fiddling with his thumbs as if he didn’t look like a Senior student.

“I’ll be right with you.” Ms. Young says.

Jerry nods obediently.

Behind the screen, little did Jerry know was Ms. Young’s… Hobby. Right, she was writing for her novel. She was unfocused on what Jerry was asking her since he came barging in as she was still in her brainstorming stage. And now… 

«Gushiken wakes up from her slumber after her intense battle with Akaza. With the dim moonlight shining on her, she opens her eyes to see….»

Ah, perfect. For now. Ms. Young closes her laptop and takes off her glasses, leaving them dangling around her neck. 

“So, what are you here for? Did Gordon send you in already?” The Architecture Dept again…

“Oh, I’m a freshman, Ms. Young.”

Ms. Young, in her many years in J-high, had never seen a kid look… Like this. Ah, but she gets such a small salary, anyways, she shakes off her shock. She shouldn’t be shocked. Some students here could pass off as adults in their mid-twenties if they wanted to, seriously.

“Then you must be Jerry Kwon. Here you go,” Ms. Young gives Jerry a yellow piece of paper, printed with his class schedule and where his room is.

The guidance counselor then looks over Jerry’s documents, standing near the window in her solo office. She hums with a slight nod.

“You’re big for a first-year high schooler. You—” Once more, Ms. Young takes a good look at Jerry and points at him accusingly. “Are you sure you’re not a convicted criminal or something!?”

Jerry sweats nervously at this. He shakes his head and his hands in swift denial. “N-no! My father is—”

“Okay, that’s enough.” Ms. Young regains her lost composure. “I’m sure you’ll fit right into Jaewon. It’s not any different from the local schools, or any other schools, for the matter of fact.”

Splat! Behind the window protecting Ms. Young, who smiled with her eyes closed.

“Same little ass-wipe shit-for-brains everywhere.” And then she laughs as if it was normal. It probably is.

Poor Jerry didn’t know what to say, stuttering. For a big, intimidating guy, Jerry remembers what his big brother, by bond, had always told him: Respect your elders.

“Sorry, sorry… Should I go?”

The more Jerry sat on the chair, the more Ms. Young looked sweetly aggravated. “Go, I have deviants to see and a novel to finish. Bye-bye now.”

Jerry leaves with his bag on his shoulder as Ms. Young pats his back while ushering him out of the Guidance office. As Jerry approached the door, his prominent figure was almost rivaled by a familiar figure in a black compression short-sleeved shirt from Under Armour. Despite Jerry being in the original school uniform, the Architecture Dept was well-known to follow a different setup. The students usually wore jumpsuits.

“Big bro Jake!” Jerry grins.

Jake only gave a brief closed-eyed smile to Jerry, giving his head a small pat as he now faced Ms. Young, who had her arms closed.

“Jake Kim.”

Jake walks into the office just as Jerry leaves.

“I see we’re making our visits a weekly ritual.” Jake smiles at Ms. Young. Was it an attempt at charm? He nods a bit at the end of the statement. Jake places his hands in his school pants’ pockets.

“Only so we can have these moments together. Should I hit the lights?”

“Oh, very clever, the big boss, was it?” Ms. Young raises her thinly drawn eyebrow at the report in her hands. “Says here you exposed yourself in the cafeteria?”

“I was joking with the guys since it was bratwurst day. Doesn’t come all the time. And I didn't mean for the lunch lady to see anything.” Jake shrugged.

“Aren’t we the optimist?” Ms. Young’s eyes flit down briefly before flicking back to his eyes in a middle-aged, tired fashion.

Jake’s brows furrow at this. Always the weird faculty this school has. Though the students were much worse off. So, Mano a Mano. “Next time, keep it in your pouch, okay? Now scoot!”

The brief session in the guidance office was done in no time. Ms. Young had other… Business to attend to, yes…

«…“Are you looking for a wife? Oh, you know, just like a wife. Get married.”»

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“Hello! Brad Lee, Sophomore from the Architecture Dept.” A similarly head-shaven guy approached the innocent Jerry waiting nearby the guidance office from earlier. Next to him was a lanky guy who wore red Converse shoes.

“Jason Yoon. We’re supposed to show you around; I’m a sophomore like Brad. It's rare, even for us, to see our No. 2. We usually just hear about you from Jake. Nice to see you in Jaewon, finally.”

They both shake hands with Jerry, whose other hand is holding onto the strap of his backpack. Brad looks at the little paper before looking back at Jerry.

“So… You play the flute?” Brad jests as they begin to walk.

“For a performance before, the flute is very important to me. It was given to me by big brother Jake.”

“Woah, the boss is amazing,” Jason remarks, walking with his hands behind his head.

Jerry hums in acknowledgment as he nods along. Brad then taps Jerry’s shoulder and points his chin toward a group of girls huddled together. Some had hair curlers for their bangs, even blow dryers. They all wore the standard uniform, but their hair was of different colors.

“Here’s the breakdown. Them,” Jerry looks at them again. “They’re from the Beauty Department.”

“Basic beautiful people.” Jason shrugged and looked up at Jerry, who was listening attentively. “Now, unless they talk to you first, just don’t bother.”

Jerry nods obediently at this. “They mostly only care about the only boy in their department, Eli Jang.” Brad chuckles.

Still walking along the long hall, they pass by a different group of kids. They were small, younger-looking boys.

“To the right, you’ll see the dweebs from the Fashion Dept. They’re your classic rich kids—” Jason explains.

“Hey, watch where you’re walking! You almost stepped on my Limited Edition Air Jordan 1s! You can’t find these anywhere anymore! Huh?!” A funny little lamb wearing glasses yelled. None of the three paid any mind.

“Tell them there’s a sale of whatever limited pair of pants, and they’ll come running alright. They won’t mess with you, though, I’m sure.” Jason gives Jerry a thumbs up.

Suddenly, some guy with his friend bumped into Jerry. The guy was petite compared to the giant Jerry Kwon, but he didn’t seem scared. No, his eyeglasses seemed to have lit up as he adjusted them.

“Konnichiwa (*In Japanese: “Hello”), are yuu new hero? (*In English: “Are you new here” — Korean accent)” 

Brad and Jason sweat at this. Brad leans close to Jerry to whisper and explain before Jerry thinks of beating him up. Though Jerry didn’t think of that in the first place.

“He must be from the AniCom Dept. Most think they’re the next Light Yagami or Satoru Gojo.”

Jason joins in and whispers on Jerry’s other ear, tip-toeing to reach it like Brad. “Never touch their body pillows.”

Jerry only nods rapidly and gives a brief wave before moving on.

“Arigato Gozaimasu!” The boy bows deeply for Jerry, catching a few stares from the passing students.

In one of the rooms they were passing by, they could hear loud laughter and a bunch of yells from the teacher. When the door opened, Jerry, Brad, and Jason could see the class monitor displaying… Porn. Obscene moans filled the rooms, and the furious teacher figured out why the remote wasn’t working suddenly. In the room, a particularly mischievous boy who sat on his chair with both his feet up like it was a dirty alleyway caught Jerry’s eye. 

“Dumbasses.” Jerry hears from the boy with purple hair and a devious smile.

“Kouji!!!!” The teacher screams. “Was it you again!?”

“Hah? You have no proof whatsoever, Mr.”

Jason laughed along while the porn didn’t stop playing. “Computer Department. That Kouji kid’s already famous for being known to hack easily into the school’s whole PA System.”

“Woah,” Jerry says something for the first time since their tour after exchanging names. This makes Jason Yoon and Brad Lee look immediately into whatever caught the quiet Jerry’s attention.

There walked a somewhat petite, classic, a little vintage-in-style girl. Sweetly holding her books as, for some reason, the wind picked up inside the school!? How was this possible?! But then Jerry thought, I guess for a goddess…! 

She had a strawberry-printed oversized jacket paired with the prettiest smile in Jerry Land while she walked over to a blonde girl with a cloth headband.

“Did the wind pick up just now?” Jerry hears her ask her friend.

“No, it’s just that fan over there. Someone turned it on just right on time.” Her friend replies while they walk off together.

Jerry couldn’t take his eyes off her. Is this what a campus crush is? He doesn’t think he’s seen anyone his whole life, which caught his fancy. With this, he whips his head towards his tour guides.

“Who is she..?” Jerry asks shyly. If you look closer, you’ll see a tinge of pink on his cheeks.

“The don't-even-think-about-it girl.” Jason sighs, putting his hands down on his head.

“She’s Ryang Sang-min of the Ryang sisters. A freshman like you, but she’s great friends with Mary Kim, Senior, since they’re in the same department.” Brad explains kindly.

Ryang Sang-min. Ah, Jerry will remember that name for the rest of his life. Brad and Jason notice how Jerry seems to be in wonderland, showing a small smile, but they worry for the little… Well, big guy.

“You see Jerry, Ryang Sang-min, a beautiful, deep, and a good dancer too. That, we’re sure of.” Brad Lee states, looking off into the direction that Sang-min and Mary walked off to. The trio was not so far behind the two girls walking off to their respective classrooms.

Sang-min speaks dreamily while holding her stack of papers in her arms, “You see, there’s a difference between like and love.”

“I like my Skechers, but I love my Prada backpack.”

“But I… Love my Skechers.” Mary replies.

“That’s because you don’t have a Prada backpack.” Sang-min shrugs.

Mary thinks about Sang-min’s point for a while until she finally gets the message. I mean, she didn’t have a Prada backpack, so that much was true. Mary chuckles and palms her forehead, “Ohh….”

And then they pass by the Second years’ Architecture Department room. Where Jason and Brad’s stop should be. Jerry still looks off towards the girls’ back. Specifically, Sang-min's, in pure awe until Jason waves a hand in front of him, and Brad starts talking.

“Look, Jerry, Ryang Sang-min has a very strict, uptight dad. It’s a widely known fact that the Ryang sisters don’t date.”

None of what they did or said got to Jerry, though, as he stared off into the distance. “Uhuh… Yeah.”

Jason Yoon and Brad Lee look at each other worriedly. They were here on behalf of Jake Kim’s request to look out for Jerry on his first day as part of Big Deal, but they don’t know if they failed or succeeded.

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After the bell rang, all departments were in their given rooms. There were a lot of reasons why Practical Music had a strong competitiveness against the Vocal & Dance Dept. While they battled for agencies to take them in, performances, the lot, they also had mixed classes. Mixed classes are different from auditorium sessions. It was unique to the two departments since they had ragingly similar lessons anyway. Auditorium sessions take up all the departments in the most enormous room in Jaewon. However, it was primarily used for seminars. It was easy to skip if you tried.

The mixed classes between Practical Music and VD would happen with the core subjects and Music Theory or whatnot. But topics specific to your department are when the two would separate. For now, it was Literature. The sound of clapping hands garnered the students’ attention, stopping their mid-class talking.

“Okay, then. What did everyone think of ``The Sun Also Rises?``” Your professor, Mr. Il Pae-min, asks.

A student with a pixie cut raises her hand from the back. Dreamily, she says,

“I loved it. He’s so romantic.”

“Romantic? Hemingway?” You pipe up. Scoffing after looking at her, then looking upfront to your professor, who already saw your rebuttal from a mile away. “He was an abusive, alcoholic misogynist who squandered half his life hanging around Picasso trying to nail his leftovers.”

This makes Mr. Pae-min roll his eyes. 

“Look who’s talking, Ms. I’m-bitter-Boohoo-I-have-no-friends.” Vin Jin, the twerp who always wore sunglasses and some ugly-ass hat, laughs right after his statement. He’s even got the backup extras laughing with him and giving him undeserved low-fives.

This makes you roll your eyes.

“Shut your mouth, ripoff.” Mr. Pae-min scolds, and Vin frowns at his retort.

You found your opportunity, so you’ll take it. Laughing a little at first, you say, “I guess in this society, being male and an asshole makes you worthy of our time.”

“Oooh.” The class reacts. Vin Jin was definitely pissed off. But as they spot you open your mouth again, half the class groans.

“What about Sylvia Plath, or Charlotte Bronte, or Simone de Beauvoir—?” Your little speech is cut off when the door slides open, revealing a student who was unquestionably not from either Practical or DV.

It was a guy with a tattoo sleeve decorating both his arms, and in his hand was a black bomber jacket, probably to pair with his compression shirt. Without missing a beat, he asks, and you’re not even sure if it was genuine, “What’d I miss?”

You sigh exasperatedly. Attention has already gone from the boy who just entered. You answer his question. “The oppressive patriarchal values that dictate our education.”

“...” You don’t see it, but he nods and smiles. “Good. Not my class.” And just as quickly as he disrupted your class, just as quickly he left.

“Hey!” Your professor yelled at him, but he couldn’t catch him as another student called out for him. He looks to the student and, oh, another asshat.

“Um, Mr. Pae-min…” Vin Jin initially calls in mock sadness before morphing into an angrier tone. “Is there any chance we can get (Name) to take her Midol before she comes to class?”

You look back at Vin Jin, who sat on your left, just right behind you, with an unamused expression.

“Someday, you’re going to get bitch slapped, and I’m not gonna do a thing to stop it.” Your professor butts in before you do.

Vin Jin’s smug smile turns into a dissatisfied grunt. “Tch.”

“And Ryang (Name), I want to thank you for your point of view.” Now it was your turn to nod and feel the sweet, sweet satisfaction. That is until “It must’ve been hard for you to overcome all your years in upper-middle class suburban oppression.”

Mr. Pae-min shakes his head to express his point better, “Must be tough.”

“Anything else?” You ask. Whether sarcastic or not, your professor isn’t taking it anymore. So he replies, “Yeah, go to the office. You’re pissing me off.”

“What? Mr. Pae—”

“Later!” He cuts you off, not giving you any more than that. This fucking sucks, you think. Makes your day even worse than the annoying freshmen on the bus earlier. You roll your eyes and get your stuff, kicking Vin Jin’s leg before you leave.

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In the guidance office, there sat Ms. Young, eyes closed to envision the scene of her novel in her head. Along with this, she vocalizes the lines herself. “A different and yet all the more beautiful….” And she opens her eyes.

“Yeonhui!” Ms. Young calls her intern.

“Yes, ma’am?” She springs from the open door that led to Ms. Young’s office. 

“What’s another word for engorged?”

“I’ll look it up.” The young adult says.

“Okay.” Ms. Young replies, shifting her attention back to her retro laptop. “Swollen. Turgid.” She recites to herself in thought.

“Tumescent?” You continue for her, hands in your jacket. 

Ms. Young looks at you, “Perfect.” Then types in the rest of her thoughts while talking. “So, I hear you were terrorizing Mr. Pae-min’s class. Again.”

You sigh. You couldn’t count how much you’ve done this for the day already. And it was just your first class. Sitting, you reply, “Expressing my opinion is not a terrorist action.”

“Mhm, the way you expressed your opinion to Doo Lee?” Ms. Young retorts, finally closing her laptop and taking her reading glasses off to dangle around her neck once more.

“My statement remains that he kicked himself in the balls.” You cross your arms.

Ms. Young gives you a second to stare at you with a smile that says how talking about it with you is just not going to work this time. Not like it worked all the other times, anyway. So, she gets her tall CBTL coffee mug, “So, the thing is, Ms. Ryang (Name)... People perceive you as somewhat—”

“Tempestuous?” You continue with raised brows.

“Heinous bitch is the term used most often.” Ms. Young smiles once more. You lay back on your chair with a sense of disbelief. Though you’re not so surprised about what the guidance counselor said. “You might want to work on that. Thank you.” She finishes.

You stand up from the chair facing Ms. Young’s desk. “As always, thank you for your excellent guidance.”

Just before leaving and fixing the strap of your sling bag on your shoulder, you say, “I’ll let you get back to Kyojuro’s quivering member.”

Ms. Young looked up at your back that was leaving. Humming, she nods. “Quivering member. I like that.”

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“Virgin alert. Your favorite.” One of his friends pointed with his chin.

Vin Jin looks to his back, right where a familiar face greets him, exactly when Mary flips Vin off once she catches his attention. Sang-min notices Vin staring, and she gives him a shy smile while walking to the canteen with Mary and her other friends she met in her class. 

“Lookin’ good, ladies. And Mary.”

Vin and his lackeys stare at Sang-min walking off. “Oh, she’s out of reach, even for you.” 

Vin looks at Chul with an air of confidence only he can have. “No one’s out of reach for me.”

“You wanna put money on that?” Chul replies.

Putting his hands in his pants pockets, Vin smirks at Chul. “Money, I’ve got.” Looking back into the direction that Sang-min walked off to, he continues. “This, I’m gonna do for fun.”

As Vin and his friends kept ogling at Sang-min and her friends in turns, on the other side of the open grounds were the three loners in the big group that was Big Deal. It was only break time, and Jerry’s not precisely the most… Approachable in terms of face and body structure. So once Jason and Brad saw Jerry walking alone, they approached the big guy. And there they were now. Jerry is drinking strawberry milk on the bench next to Jason and Brad.

“Who’s he?” Jerry points innocently with his finger that could probably stop a truck single-handedly.

“Most people call him Vin Jin, sometimes Jin Ho Bin,” Brad answers first. “Aspiring rapper. Take note about aspiring.” Jason continues.

“He’s a prick, basically.” Brad chuckles, laying back on the benches behind them.

Jerry nods, taking note of the boy who is visibly interested in his goddess. While sipping the last strawberry milk, his eyes flit to Ryang Sang-min. So much so that he fails to notice that the box is already empty and crushed in his hand. “She’s so pretty….”

“Conceited.” Jason cuts him off, a notebook covering his face from the sun.

Jerry visibly gasps at this. “She’s perfect!” The boy rumbles. Twiddling with his fingers, Jerry is suddenly bashful as he recites how pretty Sang-min’s smile is or how her eyes are reflected in the sun. Jason and Brad were not entertaining Jerry’s ideas, looking at each other as Jerry kept going on.

“Look, Jerry, Sang-min is a snotty princess.” Jason scrunches his nose and removes the notebook that covers his face, “She wears short skirts and tighter blouse, all against the school dress code. So that guys like us can realize that we’ll never be able to touch her, and guys like Vin Jin realize that they want to.” Jason finishes bitterly.

“No, you’re wrong.” Jerry shakes his head, which is shining from the sun. If you listen closely, you can hear someone slipping due to momentary blindness.

Jason laughs. “Take a shot, big buddy.”

Brad hums, interested. “She’s looking for an English tutor.”

Jerry shines brighter ever than before. Like a lightbulb that lit up but instead of having it over his head, it was his head. “I can teach her.”

“You speak good English?” Brad asks.

Jerry sweats. “I will.”

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End of class.

You walked with Crystal Choi to the bus stop when Vin brushed past you on his off-road motorbike. Was that new? But you internally groan and scold yourself for even glancing at it because now the dude is stopping to talk to you.

“Hey,” Vin smirks. “How’re those shitty headphones doing, (Name)?” He then leans into the handles of his bike with the cockiest face he can make, with half his face hidden in seven-layer tinted sunglasses. It wasn’t even hot out.

“Run along, loser.” You wave off, and Vin frowns, roaring his engine back to life and driving off slowly to greet another passerby.

[...]

“I know you can be overwhelmed, and you can be underwhelmed,” Sang-min’s friend trails off. “But can you ever just be… Whelmed?”

Sang-min didn’t know what to say, but she did think about it. “I think you can in Japan.” She shrugs.

“Hi, ladies.” Vin greets with his hotshot attitude. His motorbike calmed down next to them while Vin looked at the girl of his current interest. “I’m here to pick up a certain princess. Got one more free seat for a ride.”

This makes Sang-min giggle and look at her friend before she hopped on Vin’s ride. Wrapping her arms around his waist and waving goodbye to her friend. 

“Careful, the seats are brand new.” Vin notices, giving himself a little laugh once he feels the girl wrap her arms around him, “Heh.”

Somewhere near the school entrance, you can hear a certain blonde raging about someone stealing her cousin’s bike. You and Crystal watched the whole exchange between the jerkoff and your sister. Both of you were not close friends, but at that moment, the same thoughts were running through your heads.

“That’s an odd development.” Crystal remarks beside you.

You look down at Crystal, then back at Vin and Sang-min. Agreeing, you get on the bus that just arrived and sit next to her. “A disgusting one.”

The rest of the ride after that ordeal was comfortable. Later on, Crystal got off first. It was an upward stretch filled with shabby houses. Crystal was such a commendable spirit. She knew a lot of great bands, too. You think she’s fantastic for caring for that dog she told you about. Vin is more of an asshat for messing around with that mixed-breed golden retriever. You hope that one of these days, he gets just what he deserves.

Looking out the window, your bus quickly passes by the guy that mistook your room for his. You stare at him for a couple of seconds. It seems he felt the piercing look you gave him as he looked up at you from the sidewalk. Neither of you breaks eye contact, trying to see which of the other looks away first, an unspoken competition you’ve partaken in. You notice that he had a pretty well-defined face, a subtle side part where his slick hair was pushed back a little, sharply arched brows, and his black compression shirt. His bag was slung over his torso, and you know he probably wore a shirt like that on purpose.

And then he closed his eyes for a polite smile, catching you off guard.

You look away quickly, feeling your face heat up for no reason. Geez, who just suddenly flashes a smile at a stranger like that? This school’s filled with a bunch of weirdos. As your ride finally goes past him, you flip him off without looking back.

Back to the boy you had a staring competition with…

Samuel Seo, in his side-slicked undercut, white Ralph Lauren long-sleeve shirt with two open buttons at the top, the blue school tie hanging loosely on his neck, school pants, a missing coat, and his handbag lazily thrown over his shoulder, turns a corner and finally sees Jake Kim, face chasing a look to the bus that just left. The middle finger proudly displays itself in the window. When Samuel's eyes flit back to Jake, he focuses on what he is wearing. Making him scoff and call his friend out.

“The fuck you doing in my shirt?”

Jake looks back to see Samuel and walks to him. Shrugging, “Forgot to wash the jumpsuit.”

“Nasty,” Samuel replies.

“This shit’s fucking tight. How do you breathe in your shirts, man?” Jake pinches the front of his shirt, inspecting the material. 

“Shut the fuck up.” Samuel retorts, slapping the back of Jake’s head as they both walk off to their shared dorm.

[...]

“Have you seen Jerry?”

“Nah.” Samuel suddenly vividly remembers when he almost stumbled on his feet during the break when the sun shone on his glasses. Jake hums in reply.

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Finally, you arrive home. You assume your sister got here first, considering she got a ride from the nation’s biggest asshole. Knocking on the door, you’re greeted by your middle-aged dad, who was just about to sort the mail in his neutral tone checkered shirt, covered by a brown vest and a tie underneath. After removing your shoes by the entrance, you get sorted into the living room and sigh from your typically long day.

Your dad approached you as you sat on the couch, putting your socked feet up. Still looking into the number of mail he had on his hands.

“Hello (Name). Made anyone cry today?” Your dad jests.

“No, but it’s only four-thirty.” You smile cheekily at him, to which he chuckles back at you.

“Hi, daddy.” Your sister butts in, coming down the stairs. Sang-min gives your dad a quick kiss on the cheek. “Hello, dear.” 

Looking at your sister and lying on your stomach on the sofa with your hands supporting your chin, you start your array of questions. “So, where have you been?” 

Quickly shutting you down, Sang-min looks at you with threateningly wide eyes. “Nowhere.”

“Hey, what’s this? Kyonggi University in Suwon?” Your dad suddenly pipes up, making you shoot yourself up from the sofa. Taking the piece of opened mail from your father’s hands and scanning it yourself. And there, it was written in bold:

«We are pleased to acknowledge and congratulate Ms. Ryang (Name) on her application’s acceptance. We were very impressed….»

Any message after that didn’t matter to you as the excitement and happiness caught up to you first. Jumping around and looking between the fancy paper, your sister, and your father, anyone could see how happy this made you from a mile away.

“I got in. I got in!!!” You yell for the umpteenth time, now running and plopping yourself back on the sofa, currently reading the whole message of the letter.

Your father followed behind you with a worried look. At the same time, your sister was curious about the current situation, following suit with your dad.

“Isn’t Suwon too far off Central Seoul?” Your dad asks.

“That’s one of the reasons why it’s absolutely perfect!” You grin.

“I thought we… Decided you were going to stay here and go to school? There’s a lot of universities in Seoul.” Your dad suddenly starts listing all the universities nearby, including the one he went to, even mimicking their university mascot. “Wooh! Go, Seoul!”

Your eyebrow raises before it scrunches together in confusion. Facing back to meet your father and sister’s gazes, you reply. “No, you decided.”

A small air of silence.

“Oh, okay. So what, you just pick up and leave, is that it?” Your dad gives you the same expression that you were now showing him. An air of annoyance was starting to radiate off you, and your sister didn’t seem to have picked up on that. Even annoyingly does her sweet smile while saying, “Let’s hope so.”

You now mirror her sickly smile. “Oh, dad, ask Sang-min who drove her home.”

“(Name) don’t change the—” Your dad points at you before facing your sister at record speed. “Drove? Who drove you home?”

“Now, don’t get upset, Daddy, but there’s this boy….” Your sister starts, testing the waters.

But you cut her off. “Who’s a flaming imbecile, by the way.”

“Please.” Your dad shushes you, but your sister starts blowing off. “And I think he might ask me—”

“Please! I think I know what he’s going to ask you.” Your dad then cuts your sister off too. Holding on to her forearms in a worried manner. “And I think the answer is always no. No. It’s always no.” Your sister’s expression turns crestfallen at your father’s reaction.

Your dad then directs her to sit beside you on the couch. Starting with his sermon every time the topic of dating arose. “What are the two house rules?” He says, volume now raised.

Once your sister sits on the couch, your dad answers his questions. “Number one. No dating until you graduate.”

And… “Number two. No dating until you graduate.” Your dad finishes counting the rules with his fingers. “That’s it. That’s all the rules.”

Sang-min crosses her arms, showing a deep pout. “But that’s so unfair!”

“Alright, you wanna know what’s unfair? This is for you too.” Your dad starts again, and you can already see where this is going. “This morning, I delivered a set of twins to a fifteen-year-old girl. You know what she said?”

In your mind, you recited: I’m a crack whore who should have made my skeezy boyfriend wear a condom.

“I’m a crack whore who should have made my skeezy boyfriend wear a condom?” Your sister said for you aloud.

Yeah, got that right. Sometimes, you even wonder how you and your sister can share the same thoughts. Your dad pauses for a while, raising his brows in acknowledgment. That hit the nail right on the head. “Close, but no.” Never mind, then.

“She said, ``I should have listened to my father.`` ”

“Oh, she did not say that!” Sang-min argues.

“Well, that’s what she would have said if she wasn’t doped up.”

You remained quiet for the whole ordeal while your sister was totally blowing up. You hear your sister groan, and she flails her arms forward before saying, “Can we please just focus on me for a second?”

“I am the only girl in school who’s not dating.” 

“Oh, no, you’re not.” Your dad shakes his head quickly and then refers to you. “Your sister’s not dating.”

“Aaand I don’t intend to.” You assure your point by looking between your sister and your dad.

“And why is that again?” Your father declares.

“Is that even a question? I mean, come on, dad. Jaewon’s either filled with boys who probably don’t even wash their hair,” You count with your fingers. “Snotty prepubescent little boys who think they’re it with their branded clothes, probably stolen shoes, or just major criminal-looking men.” The last one suddenly had your brain remind you of the boy who flashed you a smile. Internally shaking away the intrusive thoughts because that was not what you meant by criminal looks.

“Where did you even come from?” Sang-min gawks, “Planet Loser?”

“Oh, yeah? As opposed to Planet, `` Look at me, look at me.``” You taunt, with your hands flailing around like one of those nobles from the 1800s.

A swift clap of hands disrupted your little argument, making the two of you look up at your father. “Okay, here’s how we solve the problem. Old rule out. New rule in, Sang-min can date.”

Your dad’s statement leaves your mouth open in shock, and for Sang-min to cross her arms and smiles happily. Your father begins to walk off, but just before he does, he finishes his sentence. Walking backward and pointing to you. “When she does.”

And suddenly, the happy smile Sang-min had was replaced with the bitter shock that overtook her. She stands up abruptly, trying to chase your dad while you laugh at the situation.

“Wait, dad, but what if she never dates? She’s a total mutant!”

Your dad shrugs. “Then you’ll never date.” Turning his back, he mumbles to himself. “Oh, I like that. And I’ll get to sleep at night!”

Raising his finger, he makes his point clearer. “The deep slumber of a father whose daughters aren’t out being impregnated.” Then the ring from his phone indicates the end of the conversation.

Standing up from the sofa, you walk off to your room while your dad points at you as he prepares to leave. “We’ll talk about Kyonggi University later.” You give him a hum of affirmation, going up the stairs that lead to your room. On the other hand, your sister tried to convince your unmoving dad, so, in the end, she resorts to you.

With a hand on the wooden rail of the stairs, she yells. “Can’t you just find someone blind and deaf to take you to the movies so I can have one date?!”

Turning to face her and looking down, you smile at her. “I’m sorry. Guess you’ll just have to miss out on the dreamboat Jin Ho “Eat me” Bin.” You pout.

Your sister gives you a scoff, waving you off and whining. “You suck!”

“You suck~” You mock her back, and she groans, annoyed by you.

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Flipping the pages of the thick book that had «Speak English for Dummies!» right on the title page, at the moment, Jerry was trying his best to take in the overloaded amount of information so he could teach Sang-min all that which he learned. Yeah, he got lucky to score an English tutoring session with Sang-min, so he was trying his best on this! While avidly reading, the quick tapping of heels behind Jerry and the following plop of a bag on his desk made Jerry look up at the beauty that greeted him.

Sang-min smiles at him, and he feels his heart fly out of his chest.

“Hi. I almost thought I got the wrong table. I didn’t expect someone like you to volunteer as my English tutor.” Sang-min begins, and Jerry? Well, he was still formulating the words to reply in his head. “Actually… Can we make this quick?”

“Zack Lee and Daniel Park are having an incredibly horrendous public fight in their class, again.”

For the whole duration that Sang-min was talking, Jerry was unknowingly leaning close to listen to her voice more. It was until she stopped speaking did Jerry regain his stance. Stuttering, he says, “O-oh… Well, you s-see. Okay, I thought we’d start with pronunciation, i-if that’s alright with you.”

“Not the overuse of Rs. It’s actually so hard to remove our natural Korean accent. Can we start on anything else, please?”

“Ah, well, there is an alternative.” Jerry poses.

“There is?”

Jerry scratches his cheek, looking back to the back. “Yeah, uh, we can try American Food. We could, uh, e-eat some together. Maybe… Saturday night?” As subtle as he can, he tries to look back at Sang-min.

Sang-min squints her eyes with a genuine smile. Trying to decipher what was going on. Speaking up, she says, “You’re Asking me out?”

Then Sang-min grins, showing off her white teeth. “That’s so cute! I never expected you to be so timid too. What’s your name again?” She leans on her chin.

“J-Jerry.” He says, looking down bashfully with his hands and fingers crossed together in such a behave-looking position. “Jerry Kwon.”

Jerry clears his throat and smiles at Sang-min too. “I know your dad doesn’t let you date, but since we’re studying so you could learn English, you know….” Around Sang-min, Jerry had the peculiar habit of scratching his cheek or picking on his nails.

“Oh, sorry, wait a minute. Tom…” Sang-min cuts off.

“Jerry.” He corrected timidly.

“My dad actually came up with a new rule. So I can date when my sister does.” Sang-min trails off with her sentence.

“Really?” Jerry perks up, and suddenly, his whole body faces her while he is still sitting on the chair. “Do you like sailing? I read about this place that rents boats made for—”

“A colossal problem, Jeremy.” Jerry almost speaks up to correct his name again, but Sang-min continues. “In case you haven’t heard, my sister’s a hideous breed of loser.”

Feeling down, Jerry picks on the corner of one of the pages in the open book. “Y-yeah, I heard she was a little antisocial. Do you know why?”

“The only mystery even Scooby-doo can’t solve.” Sang-min shrugs. “She used to be popular, and then it was like, she got sick of it or something.”

“Theories abound as to why, but I’m pretty sure she’s incapable of human interaction. I mean, she basically, like, has no friends now.” Sang-min continues, smiling at Jerry again. “Plus, she’s a bitch.”

Jerry sweats at this, trying to cook up his solutions. “But I’m sure, you know, that there are lots of guys who wouldn’t, you know, mind going out with a difficult wo-man.” Jerry stutters throughout his sentence. Trying to regain his point, he shakes his hands because he feels what he said was wrong.

“I mean, you know, people jump out of airplanes and ski off cliffs or beat up a hundred guys to protect a street. It’d be like, uh, like, Extreme Dating!”

“Shhh!” A couple of students reacted at the back when Jerry picked up his volume by the end. Though once they saw Jerry apologizing sincerely, they piped down due to sheer intimidation.

Now hush-hush between Sang-min and Jerry, who leaned into each other to whisper instead. Sang-min cooks up a reply to what Jerry was trying to say earlier. “You think you can find someone that extreme?”

“I think so…” For you. Jerry thinks.

“You’d do that for me?” Sang-min holds her hand out to touch Jerry’s arm. Suddenly hyped up, Jerry immediately says: “Yes!” Nodding his head avidly.

A smack of a hand on their table catches their attention briefly. Showing a brunette guy with a messy haircut looking at them with an intense glare. “Quiet down.” And then he leaves, Jerry, taking note of the black army jacket that he wore.

Jerry comes down from his high, focusing on the girl of his dreams right next to him. “I mean— I’ll, I could, I could look into it.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“There’s a lot of guys from our department. Maybe you can find one here.” Brad says, leading Jerry into the Sophomores' area, right into the deep man cave—the jungle that is the Architecture Dept.

With his hand resembling the “OK” gesture, Jason kisses the tips of his put-together thumb and index. “The finest of Jaewon.” And then the door opens.

It revealed a bunch of guys who were… Weightlifting? Half the class wore black leather jackets with “BNC” and a burning knuckle brass on top of the text. It trailed off to the sleeves with duplicated horizontal lines trailing down to the end. The other half had their jumpsuits down to reveal either a white shirt covered with a plain black coat or just the black jacket paired with whatever shirt or lack thereof they had.

Yes, the Architecture Department was filled with only men for the longest time. Usually, they’d form a single group under a single leader who had shown the most tremendous power amongst the whole batch. But for this year, there were two groups. The other was Burn Knuckles under Vasco, and the other was Big Deal. Under Jake Kim.

What they had in common was that they were formed with the pretense that they were solely just like their leader and had chosen to follow either of the two for as long as they could. Does this spark war, you ask? Well, neither of the leaders aren’t really into unnecessary fights. So, in the end, they simply coexist. Initially, Big Deal was from Sinu Han, an alumnus of Jaewon.

“Osu! Everyone from Big Deal, say hello to the No. 2!” Brad Lee pipes up, and the members of Big Deal immediately stand up from their seats to greet the freshman.

Even the men from Burn Knuckles thought Jerry was already an alumnus, whispering about how big he looked. Is this guy really a student? Was the question most asked.

“No. 2, Jerry Kwon! Welcome to our classroom!” They bow at a perfect ninety-degree angle.

“Geez, what’s the ruckus?” Jace scratches his ear, waking up from his power nap on the floor. When his eyes flit to Jerry, he reels. “Woah.”

“Our junior here was just asking for help. He’s looking for a guy that would be fit for a girl.”

“...” The classroom freezes and digests the information.

“A girl.”

“A girl?!” They yell in unison.

“Should I volunteer, Jace?” Vasco grins, tapping his best friend’s shoulder. Contrariwise, Jace was measuring the situation. He thinks about why a mafia boss has visited them. Vasco and I were just visiting the sophomores. I guess it was the right time to hang around…

Suddenly, everyone was raising their hands and asking questions.

Is she pretty?

From what department?

Can she lift 100kg?

“Who’s the girl first?” Jace asks, raising his hand, and the crowd goes silent. They were all waiting for the answer. Yui Kim? Zoe Park? Joy Hong? Ryang Sang-min?

“Ryang…” They all listen closely. Sang-min? Sang-min? Sang-min!?

“(Name).” Brad finishes.

And suddenly, they all slump their backs. No longer listening to whatever offer Brad and Jason were trying to give them. In the back, even Vasco was put down. Shivering, he recalls, “She once told me that I smelled.”

He cries to Jace, “Do I smell, Jace?!”

Jace pats Vasco’s back while the rest of the Burn Knuckles yell their reprisals. “You don’t smell, Vasco!”

“If Vasco smells, then Burn Knuckle smells!”

“It’s the true smell of a man.”

The other half of Big Deal was awfully quiet, avoiding the looks Jerry, Jason, and Brad were giving them. Absolutely no support whatsoever. None, nein, nothing. Brad sighs and palms his similarly shaven head.

“Well, we’re empty. Sorry, Jerry.” Brad apologizes while Jason tries to comfort the sad giant.

“I told you it was pointless, the girl’s hopeless man,” Jason says.

Jerry frowned as he slowly left the room. He looked like a sad baby. All things, including the scars on his face, were set aside. The rest of the sophomores felt terrible, mainly the ones under Big Deal, but it even caught the attention of Vasco and Jace by the end. At least until Jerry bumped into someone right before the sophomores’ classroom. When Jerry focused on who it was,

“Jake!” Jerry exclaims, to which Jake replies with an easygoing smile.

“Hey. Eat lunch yet?” Jake greets, patting Jerry’s shoulder. “You should eat more. Nutrients are important.”

Once the other members of Big Deal spotted their leader standing right outside the door talking to Jerry, they immediately crowded the entrance in a straight line. Once more, in unison, they speak at a volume that could be heard from the highest to the lowest floor of the whole school.

“Boss Jake! Welcome to our class!”

“Don’t I get a greeting too?” Samuel pops out beside Jake, who was busy telling them to lower their voices to not disrupt other classes.

The other Big Deal members stay quiet, and Samuel laughs, putting his hands in his pockets. “How come I feel a little hurt, huh? I was your number two for a while, too, you know.”

“The only number two you’ll be from now on is when you go to the toilet,” Jake says, using his index finger to pull his cheek down and poke his tongue out toward the male. Samuel was smiling, but a visible irk mark formed on his forehead.

While the two bicker, Jerry is downcast again. Jake immediately notices this.

“Hey, you okay, big guy? You know, if something’s wrong, I can always help.”

This perks Jerry up, and Samuel flinches at the sight of how Jerry is starkly different from what you’d assume his character was at first glance. It was then that Jerry recalled everything since the very beginning. From when he met Sang-min to his current dilemma: Finding someone that can date you.

“Oh, so that was your only problem?” Samuel reacts first. Leaning with his hand on Jake’s shoulder, he rubs his fingers together in front of Jerry. “If you’ve got money, maybe I can find someone to take up the job.”

“I’ll do it.” Jake perks up.

That was the second time that everyone froze. All motion stopped inside the classroom. It wasn’t just Big Deal that reacted harshly, screaming altogether with Burn Knuckles.

“WHAT?!”

“He’s a true man, Jace. Maybe I should have taken the chance too. He feels so cool right now.” Vasco feels a teardrop on his cheek.

“Vasco…” Jace says. Looking at the unknowing man who was scratching his chin, Jace thinks He’s not normal. Is this why he’s the ``Big Boss`` of Big Deal!?

“BOSS! You don’t have to sacrifice yourself!” Some of the members from Big Deal retort.

Samuel recovers, breathing heavily as if he’d just been beaten to a pulp. “Jake, you’re different after all.”

Jerry sees his new hope surface in the face of Jake Kim. He hugged his big brother, who was ironically smaller than him. Unbeknownst to Jerry, he also accidentally squeezed Samuel. Squishing the two men together in the bigger man’s arms, making their cheeks stick and for Samuel to tap Jerry’s back multiple times as a sign for Tapping Out.

Suddenly, Brad speaks up. “But for Boss Jake to date (Name), he’ll need money for the dates. Do you have any funds on you, Boss?”

Jerry lets go of the two boys who are fixing their clothes. Samuel was rapidly wiping his cheek off, acting as if Jake had cooties. Jake, on the other hand, simply patted himself off of imaginary dust and replied, taking his pockets out that held nothing but crumpled paper and a bunch of coins.

“Nope.”

“Then you guys need a backer,” Samuel suggests, fixing his glasses on his nose.

“What’s that?” Jake asks.

“Someone stupid, but with money.”

From the room, anyone could hear the oohs coming from the Archi Dept. 

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It was break time in the school’s crowded cafeteria. At one of the tables, there was a student drawing boobs on one of the lunch trays with a permanent marker. That student was surrounded by his lackeys, as usual, save for one who wasn’t a lackey.

“Oh yeah.” Vin Jin says as he keeps on with his masterpiece.

“You look like a third grader who just learned how to draw, Vin.” Mary insults. 

“Vin Jin,” Jason says, sitting on the table with the rest of Big Deal, save for Jake. “He’s perfect.”

“Wait, he has money?” Brad asks.

“I mean, his shoes don’t look cheap. And he’s perfect. He likes Sang-min, too, so he’s sure to back Jake up if it means ``scoring.``”

Jerry grumbles at the term. “He will not ``score.``”

“Of course. Since that also means you can go on a date with your girl and have a chance at beating the jerkoff. We let him pretend that he’s calling the shots, so while he pays Jake to take out (Name), you can take your sweet time with Sang-min.” Jason explains

“Win-win!” Jason cheers, putting his arms up.

With this, the rest of Big Deal also cheers at the table. Jerry nods, understanding the situation. He admits, “It’s a pretty good idea.”

But a question now raises itself: Who’ll ask Vin Jin? See, none of them were intimidated, but they needed to pick the right person for the job to be done right. Because if Vin Jin refuses, then Jerry will never get married! Big Deal offered to gather up their funds together for Jake, but Jake refused to use his own group’s money. As Samuel said, if he was going to use someone else’s money, he might as well use the money of someone he didn’t care about. This made the other Big Deal members cry and inadvertently strengthened the loyalty they had for Jake Kim.

In the end, they picked one of the most reasonable people in Big Deal. Their one and only Lineman. Just as he approaches Vin’s table, Mary leaves to buy a drink. She gives a quick greeting to the guy, which Lineman acknowledges before passing each other. At the same time, Lineman takes the seat Mary once sat on and turns it so that he faces Vin Jin, who is puckering his lips in disdain.

The whole exchange was watched over intently by Jerry, Jason, Brad, and the rest of Big Deal. Lineman was their No. 6, after all. They couldn’t hear anything, but they saw the expression on Vin’s face change from annoyed to semi-interested. Even putting the cap of his marker back on, forgetting about drawing on the lunch tray. On their side…

“The Ryang sisters, they can’t date. Specifically, Sang-min can’t date if her older sister doesn’t.” Lineman starts pointing at the table to simply prove his point, “She can’t go out with you because nobody wants to go out with Ryang (Name). Well,” Lineman claps.

“See, what we think—”

“Wait, we?” Vin cuts him off. “Who the fuck are we?”

Lineman gives a glance and a nod to the side, pertaining to the many eyes that were overlooking the single table that had Vin and his two other friends in tow. Vin, for some reason, feels more animosity from the monster that sat in the middle of their long, lined table staring at him. Vin stays quiet and looks back at Lineman, who continues what he is saying.

“What we think is that you need to hire a guy who’ll go out with her.”

Vin places his elbow on the table, resting his chin on his palm and tapping his cheek. Still, with his puckered lips, this time, in thought. One of Vin’s friends then speaks up.

“What’s even in it for you guys?”

Lineman wastes no time responding, already having thought of this coming. “Our boss thinks that it’s a good idea to form good relationships with other departments. And you look like you’re the boss of Vocal & Dance. It’s only necessary to strengthen our bonds as students of Jaewon-High.” He preaches with no stutters.

“Who’s the guy you have in mind?” Vin Jin asks.

Right on time, Jake enters the cafeteria, yawning and looking like he just woke up from a sound sleep. He had a cowlick on the right side of his head, and a pen that he probably overlooked was still stuck on his cheek. Lineman points to him subtly with his hand.

“That guy? What makes you think that guy could stand the nutcase of a woman?” Vin inquires, already skeptical that he is just getting used for his money.

“He’s not the boss of Big Deal for no reason. A solid investment.” Lineman smirks.

With the sound of chairs being pushed back and feet padding across the hall, a clear path was made just so Jake Kim could pass through to an empty table with a meal already prepared with no problems. Vin also notices the visible slanted vertical scar that grazed Jake’s mouth. He felt a subtle chill on his neck before he cleared his throat.

“Tch. Fine. I’ll think about it.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Field day.

Jake was sitting on one of the benches while the other students of J-high were either doing gym classes, having free time, or running around the grounds playing whatever sport they felt like. The sun was high, and it was hot with no shade, so Jake had to squint everywhere he looked. His black coat was off, leaving him in the baggy pants of the black jumpsuit for those in their Senior year with the top half let down, leaving him in a white tank top, his tattoos from his chest visible up to the ones on his wrists due to the sweat cultivating on his skin.

Jake had just taken a single stick of cigarette and lit it up, putting it in his mouth and inhaling.

Smoking was banned in school, but since his first year in Jaewon, Jake’s learned the habit of the professors that scolded the students for smoking. Plus, he’s got lookouts.

“Hey.” The callout makes Jake look at Vin, wearing gold chains and his leopard-printed sunglasses, he was missing his hat, and his favorite black and white-striped jacket hung on his shoulder, so this time, he was also in a tank top, though it was black. “Fuck.” He utters under his breath.

“You're the Big Boss, right?” Vin Jin asks. He was with his two other friends.

“Do I know you?” Jake asks, looking at Vin with bored eyes, tapping on the cigarette to let the ashes on the tip fly off in the passing wind.

Vin laughs under his breath, annoyed. He was about to take back his greeting and leave, thinking that the guy that talked to him probably messed with him. But Jake interrupts Vin’s thoughts as Jake remembers what Jerry told him.

“Nevermind, I remember now.”

Of course, I’m the boss of our department. Hah! Everyone knows me! Vin rubs his chin, releasing a devious smile. This makes Jake stop and visibly cringe. Man, this dude’s ugly. 

Standing a little closer, Vin smugly puts his hands on his hips and looks at where you are currently playing soccer with your class. This makes Jake look in front of him, right where Vin Jin is looking.

“You see that girl?”

“Hm,” Jake replies, inhaling another hit from the cig. 

“That’s Ryang (Name). I want you to go out with her.” Vin ordered.

While Jerry Kwon was in class, he suddenly felt the need to sneeze. “A-Who do you think you are, talking to Jake like that-Choo!” Everyone in his class looked at him weirdly, deservingly so. But Jerry seemed to have no clue why everyone was staring at him as he rubbed his nose. A thought came into mind while the professor in Jerry’s class resumed his lesson: I wonder if someone is disrespecting Jake right now…

Back to the field where Jake and Vin were staring at you— correction— Vin was staring at Jake, and Jake was staring at you. Jake realized that you were the girl that flipped him off on the bus a couple of weeks ago.

“You already know the conditions, right?” Vin continued as Jake remained silent. Giving Vin the passive treatment.

Now that Jake was actually at the premise of pulling it off, he felt terrible. Not for using Vin’s money. But because this whole ordeal felt as if you were the ultimate pawn and that everyone just wanted to get past you so they could get to your sister. But the image of Jerry’s sad face, and Vin’s annoying-ass face, got Jake reeling. I mean, he’ll be using this asshat’s money, and he’ll get to know you. Maybe it’ll be worth it, Jake thinks as he watches you breathe heavily, bending over slightly, with your hair sticking to your forehead, in the school’s soccer team uniform that was nearly skin tight from the immense practice it went through.

“So, you’ll be investing in me, isn’t that right? Let’s get this over with.” Jake puffs out another smoke. He hands out his hand, waiting for Vin to hand over his ``downpayment``. 

Vin smirks, happy to get his plans in motion.

Vin takes out the cash from his wallet and hands it to Jake, folded. Putting the cigarette in his mouth, Jake unfolds the cash to reveal about a hundred bucks. Guess Vin was stupid. But with money.

Jake pockets the early compensation and puts his cigarette out with his foot. With that, Vin walks off with his friends.

[...]

“Great practice, everybody! Good hustle, Ryang.” Your coach, Mr. Minji, calls.

You jog to the bench where the rest of the team’s stuff is placed. You thank your coach for the praise before you wipe the sweat on your forehead, threatening to drip on your eyes. God knows how much it stings when it drips into your eyes. You were fixing your bag, trying to look for your thermal 1.8L water bottle. When you finally found it, you unscrewed the cap and took a long drink to rehydrate.

Just as you finish, a familiar face greets you.

“Hey there, pretty. How’re you?” Jake Kim offers you his most charming close-eyed smile, along with a wink right after. Even leaning on his knees for a second to adjust to your more petite frame in contrast to his larger build.

You give a tight smile back, nodding. The fuck… “Sweating like a pig. And yourself?” You sling your bag over your shoulder.

“Here, trying to get your attention.” Jake shrugs and points to himself with his index finger. “You certainly got mine.”

“Finally.” You breathe out, and Jake tilts his head. Finally…? Were you— “You’ve certainly helped me achieve my mission in life since I’ve struck your fancy. It worked. Thanks.” You say with the most lifeless tone. Oh. 

Jake gives you a small laugh, following behind you closely whilst you walk. Which was faster than an average person, he noticed. Having a hard time catching up even with his giant strides. He places his hands in his jumpsuit’s pockets, now walking toe-to-toe beside you. Leaning a little closer so you could hear him amidst the array of students, Jake says with an air of playfulness:

“Pick you up on Friday?”

“Oh. Right, Friday.” You nod in mock enthusiasm before raising your hand in front of his face. “Uhuh.”

“I’ll take you places you’ve never been before.” Jake raises his already naturally arched brows.

“Take me places— Where? The Hypermarket in Gangnam?” You squint at him, unknowingly raising your shoulders in protest of his bad ideas. Plus, “Do you even know my name, dog boy?”

Jake stops in his steps for a while as you continue walking in front of him. “Ryang (Name).” Which makes you stop walking to face him with squinted brows. Both from the heat of the sun, and the way that he did, in fact, know your name. You two stand there for a while, almost recreating the time when you saw him on the bus.

“Doesn’t matter. Screw off.” Then, you walk away. Leaving Jake Kim to think.

In the sophomores’ classroom in the Architecture Dept, everyone, including non-Big Deal members, watched the whole interaction between the infamous Ryang (Name) and the more famous Jake Kim. They even saw how their Big Boss was left in the dust by the girl. Some were still commending Jake, some of the Big Deal members cried for Jake, while Jason and Brad…

“Jerry’s screwed. We’re screwed.” Jason relays to Brad.

“Hey, no, are you saying you don’t trust the Big Boss?” Brad replies. Though in his mind, he thought the same thing. To distract himself, he says, “We should be upbeat, upbeat!”

“We’re~! Screwed~!”

Brad could only nod and sigh at Jason in defeat. Placing his gaze back towards their boss, who was still standing there in the middle of the field, looking in the direction that you left him off with.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You just finished washing your face, already preparing for bed. You wiped your face off the droplets of water sticking to your skin, feeling refreshed.

“Have you considered a new look?” Your sister brings up abruptly. You shared the same bathroom, after all. “Like, seriously, you have some definite potential under all that hostility.”

Still patting your face with the soft towel, you give her a reply. “It’s not hostility. Just annoyed.”

Sang-min begins playing with your hair, trying to style it before you lightly push her off. She sits on her chair where a vanity mirror is displayed, reflecting her image. “Why don’t you try being nice? People won’t know what to think.”

You check if you have any zits on your face, “You forget, I don’t care what people think.” 

“Yes, you do.” Your sister quips, brushing her hair lightly as she stares into her reflection.

“No, I don’t.” You say with a subtle authority in your tone. You squint at Sang-min’s reflection, “You don’t always have to be who they want you to be, you know.”

A small air of pause as Sang-min finally notices you looking at her through her reflection. She looks back at you, “I happen to like being adored, thank you.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You come out of the B&B Music Store after your little hustle of finding new headphones. You often visit here because they also sell instruments. And since you’re a well-known regular, sometimes, they let you try out the electric guitar you’ve been pining for and saving for since the dawn of time. It was almost afternoon, but the day was relatively calm, and the sun wasn’t too intense. A perfect day.

Until you see who’s leaning on your car. It was a blue and white used Chevy Chevrolet 1955 car that you also saved up for the longest time. Though your dad chipped in when it was your birthday, you’re proud of using the majority of your money on it. You don’t use it often since Jaewon wasn’t exactly filled with angels.

“Nice car. Very vintage.” Jake comments with a friendly smile, supporting his tall frame with his forearm on the roof of the car.

“Jake Kim…” You breathe out, pinching your nose. This makes Jake flinch, propping himself up from your car. “Are you actually following me?” 

With your accusation, Jake quickly raises his hands in surrender. “I was not! Please don’t think I’m a weirdo!”

You raise your brow, crossing your arms, waiting for more than that shitty excuse. Jake takes the hint and points back with his thumb. “I was in the laundromat. I saw you enter the store a couple of minutes ago. I came over to wait for you so I could say hi.”

“Honest.” Jake finishes off, drawing a cross over his heart. Today, he was in white, casual loose pants, a hoodie in a really light shade of brown, coated with another jacket in dark denim that was open, and plain white shoes.

“Eyes up here, pretty,” Jake smirks playfully, crossing his arms this time. This idiot. To think I was about to compliment his fashion taste.

“You came to say hi, right? Well, hi.” You remark, walking over to the door that led to the driver’s seat, just where Jake was blocking earlier. Just as you were reaching for the handle, he slid to stop it from your reach again.

“You don’t like talking much, do you?” Jake cranes his neck to level his face with yours.

You smile sweetly at him. “Hm, depends on the topic. My car nor your trip to the laundromat doesn’t really whip me into a ``verbal frenzy.`` Run along and wash your sweaty uniforms now.”

“You’re tough. You’re not scared of me?” Jake pouts. You don’t give him a reaction. He sighs and rolls his jacket sleeves up. “Not even one of these guns?”

“About forty-five percent of the school’s population consists of boys like you flaunting their inked skin. So why should I be afraid of you?”

“Hmmm… I don’t usually flaunt this, but how does being No. 1 of Big Deal sound?”

“Sounds like you’ve thought of that name just so you can say that you’re ``The Big Deal`` ‘round these parts. Corny when you actually hear it, sorry. Not afraid of that, big boy. Think of something else for me.”

Jake, still with his jacket sleeves rolled up, chuckles. He finds your replies genuinely interesting. Leaning a little closer towards you, “Okay, well, maybe you’re not afraid of me….”

“But I’m sure you’ve thought of me naked.” Jake gives you a cheeky smile and a sneaky wink.

You gasp. And Jake thinks he’s finally got you. “Am I that transparent?”

Placing your hand over your chest and leaning a little closer with every word, “I want you, I need you. Oh, baby. Oh, baby.” Jake actually blushed a little from the distance you closed in the short amount of time. If only you didn’t say that with the dullest voice and expressionless face, maybe he’d have felt butterflies.

You finally got a hold of the door handle, prompting Jake to push himself off the door. He scratches the back of his head in another failure.

“Careful on the drive home.” Jake waves, going back to his dirty laundry, waiting across the street as you prepare to leave, happy to be in your car with no nuances anymore. You put in the key, trying a couple of times as usual before the engine starts. Putting the gear on reverse, you were just about to leave.

But a motorbike parks right behind you to block your exit, and you groan, realizing who it is. Today was definitely an asshole day. You switch gear back to Neutral and raise your hand break. Peeking out of your open window, Vin Jin walks past you.

“Do you mind?” You ask, already pissed.

“Not at all,” Vin replies, twirling the motorbike’s keys around his index finger.

“Fine.” You whisper. You push the hand break back down, shifting into reverse, and you back onto the bike. Enough to tumble it to the ground.

Across the street, Jake watches and laughs at the exchange. Samuel, in his casual wear composed of mid-thigh shorts and a printed black shirt covered with a maroon hoodie because his tattoos were showing more this time, looks to what made Jake laugh and saw the scene, chuckling to himself too. They both continue to observe you laughing at Vin’s rage.

They hear Vin Jin panic and scream at you for being a massive bitch whilst you drove off, probably not listening anymore.

The whole affair with you maiming Vin’s bike, which you found out was actually Mary’s cousin’s motorbike, reached your dad and your sister later that evening. Sang-min was mad that she had to take the bus to school instead of being taken to by Vin, and your dad was angry because, well, of course, you had to pay for the minor damages to the vehicle. Still, you say, it was worth it.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Vin Jin grimaces angrily as he finally spots the guy he hired. He walks towards Jake, who is sleeping on his desk. Vin pushes Jake’s shoulder to wake him. Jake stirs awake, still in the throes of his break time nap, when Vin already starts his scolding, trapping Jake on his chair with Vin’s arms that hold both sides of the table. Jake leans back, unamused and certainly not intimidated.

“I shell out a hundred. I expect results.” Vin says with clenched teeth. Even with multi-layer tinted sunglasses in a dimly lit room, you could feel just how piercing Vin’s gaze was toward Jake. Anyone could feel it. But he’s Jake Kim. All that did was remind him that he probably had saliva that dried on his chin, wiping it off during the whole ordeal. “Watching that bitch violate my motorbike doesn’t count as a date.”

“Now, if you don’t get any, I don’t get any.” Vin taunts, “So get some.” He pokes Jake’s chest.

Just as Vin turns to leave, Jake speaks up. “I just upped my price. Add ‘nother fifty, in advance.”

“Huuuuh? Forget it.” Vin scowls. “Well, forget her sister, then.” Jake rebukes, starting to lay back down on his desk, taunting Vin by making it look like he was making himself visibly comfortable.

The next series of events were Vin grumbling as he reached into his pocket and slammed the bill in front of Jake. “You better hope you’re as smooth as you think you are, Jake Kim.”

Jake sighs exasperatedly, pulling the bill to place it in his pocket. He then goes back to his nap to replenish enough energy before the bell rings.

[...]

“Class Schedule, Reading List, Concert Tickets to one of her many favorite indie bands playing tomorrow.” Sang-min lists off, giving some of it to Jerry.

Jake didn’t know what he was doing here right now. With your sister, Jerry, as well as Jason, and Brad, who were waiting outside to give him a call in case you get home. This is definitely wrong, an absolute breach of privacy. This all feels against his personal code of morals, and in the back of his head, he can hear his previous superior, Sinu Han, scolding him in the form of a tiny angel sitting on his shoulder.

“I don’t want to do this,” Jake says, out of the blue, making Sang-min stop rummaging through your drawers to look at him.

“You didn’t seem so opposed earlier. Plus, we’re doing this so I can go to the party with Jerry that Beom from Practical Music is hosting. Right, Jerry?” Sang-min recalls, placing both her hands on her hips as she looks at Jerry for affirmation. To which the big guy nods frantically with a small smile. Seeing how Jerry was really into going to a party with your sister, Jake couldn’t help but let go of his morals for a little bit.

“Plus, it was you guys that asked for help. I refused at first, too, because it was creepy when I first thought about it, but for the sake of my social life….” Sang-ming trails. “And we’re not going too far into her stuff. You guys better not be stalkers or something.”

Typically, Jerry didn’t really ask for much.

But rummaging through a girl’s room is wrong! Imaginary Sinu says. Well, he was right, but…

But she’s actually pretty, isn’t she? Plus, poor Jerry doesn’t ask for much. Stop worrying. Who was this? Jake asks himself at the immediate entrance of a new imaginary figure. It was… Samuel?! What the fuck was going on in his head…?

“Oh, look, black panties.” Sang-min smiles cheekily, nitpicking your plain black underwear taken from inside your top drawer. Jake immediately covers Jerry’s eyes with his hand.

“Cover your ears, Jerry!” Jake sputters quickly. And Jerry, ever obedient, follows quickly. Already having a light shade of pink on the tips of his ears at Sang-min exposing your… Garment.

“What does that have to do with me dating your sister?” Jake asks with a clenched jaw, pissed but more so flustered and red at the same time.

Sang-min couldn’t believe that a guy like Jake Kim didn’t know what black panties meant. “She wants to have sex someday.”

On Jake’s shoulders sat the imaginary figures. One was laughing his heart out, while the other had a similar reaction to Jake. Sinu, who was also quite red despite being depicted as an angel, gives Jake a go-go-okay sign. Who does he think he is for giving me a go sign?! Go away! Samuel couldn’t stop laughing and hitting Jake’s shoulder in his miniature stature.

“She could just like the color. How can I trust you?” Jake rebukes, peeling his eyes off the article that is still in your sister’s hand.

Sang-min groans as if it was apparent. “Women just don’t buy black lingerie for nothing. They buy it because they want someone to see it.” She raises her eyebrows at Jake when she finishes her sentence. Jakes covers half his face with his other free hand, and he feels the heat that stuck to his skin because of whatever Sang-min said.

[...]

“So, first thing, (Name) hates...” Brad starts. Jake puffs out a smoke whilst leaning on a billiard table that he and the guys reserved just to hang out for the night. “Smokers. She said, and I quote, ``Would rather die than date a smoker.``”

Jake puts his cigarette out, recalling the detail that Sang-min told them earlier.

“And she likes pretty guys!” Jason remarks with his index finger pointing up, “As proven by the picture of that idol DG that Sang-min showed us earlier.”

The small group went quiet as opposed to their other buddies talking on the other reserved billiard tables in the local night bar. Jake forbids most of them to drink if they’re under twenty-one like him, though. Which, really, they all are. It just so happens that this was run by one of the girls from their street. None of them spoke a word as Jake pushed his hair back on both sides. “I guess we have no problem with that part.”

“...” Jason and Brad stare at Jake.

“...” Jake stares at Jason and Brad.

“What?”

“Nothing, boss.” Brad states.

“You don’t think I’m pretty?” Jake asks the question they all dreaded. If Jerry was here, he probably would have agreed with no brakes, but Jake made him go home early. So he doesn’t forget to do his homework.

“Hey, no, he’s stunning!” Jason argues, lightly pushing Brad away, and points to Jake with both his hands. “Prettiest guy in Jaewon!”

“Gorgeous guy, of course.” Brad agrees, too, all of a sudden, grasping his head. “Just taking opinions. Everyone knows Jake is a pretty guy.”

Jake looks off, playing with his hands now that he can’t smoke. “So, she likes traditional Japanese food, indie rock, and psychological horror movies that can be portrayed easily in real life?”

Jason and Brad nod, knowing that Jake got it all right. 

“All right, then.” Jake finishes the conversation quickly, pushing himself off the edge of the billiard table and getting a cue stick, ready to play Pool. 

“Club ViVi, tomorrow night, her favorite band’s gonna be playing there,” Jason adds, getting a cue stick, too, whilst Brad prepares to arrange the balls for their game.

“Club ViVi?! I can’t be seen at Club ViVi.” Jake suddenly pipes up.

“But she’ll be there. She’s marked it in her calendar.” Jason rebukes, making Jake grasp his forehead in thought. He remembers getting into a brawl with their top bouncer there once, Xiaolung, was it?

“I mean, it’s just one night. Did you do something wrong there, Boss?” Brad looks at Jake, now having the balls arranged and prepped. He got a chalk to rub on the tip of his cue stick.

She has a pair of black underwear. His small demon, Samuel, whispered in his ear. Instinctively, Jake swats the image away, making Jason and Brad think there is a fly bothering Jake. Though they both wonder why their boss was red-faced all of a sudden.

“Nothing. It’s fine. I’ll go.” Jake shakes his head, still stuck on a particular image in his head.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The sticky air filled with sweat that any typical club would radiate permeated through the whole environment that was Club ViVi. Jake was easily let in by the two bouncers up front, allowing him to delve deeper into the club. He was trying his best to lay low and avoid meeting Xiaolung accidentally.

The club was full of drunk young adults, guys in loose shirts, and women in tight dresses. Jake opted to wear a black silk short-sleeved shirt that was unbuttoned from the top with a simple silver chain. He had black pants and black Johnston & Murphy pair of dress shoes. Jake didn’t bother tucking the shirt in his pants like Samuel told him, just allowing the smooth silk to stretch through his body. His tattoo sleeves were easily seen, and he was ogled by the many ladies that he quickly passed by.

The neon purple, pink, and the occasional green were blasting all through the rooms of Club ViVi, and Jake had to push through a bunch of people to get to the stage where a band called Bad Suns was playing. Jake’s eyes flit to the denser crowd surrounding the scene in the center of the glistering dance floor. Then to the band that was playing on the stage, shining with sweat.

“I had no reason to breathe,” Uninterested, Jake suddenly spots your image. “Until you knocked the wind out of me.”

You were wearing a white crisscrossed wrap top. Covering only what you wanted to cover. You had light-washed denim jeans and white strap heels, and despite the thin heels supporting your feet, you were still excitedly jumping around and dancing to the rhythm of the song. Full of energy, with a huge grin, your hair swayed and wrapped around your face. The same grin you had on was contagious enough to infect Jake Kim.

“Thanks for listening to Life Was Easier When I Only Cared About Me, now for Daft Pretty Boys! A one, a one-two-three!” The singer yells into the mic as the beat shifts.

As the song begins, Jake slowly makes his way to your singular form. He couldn’t believe that you go to clubs like this all alone. Even if there were so many raving people around him, Jake excused himself to keep going. Until he finally got behind you, who was still unaware. Jake bobs his head and moves lightly to the beats of the song just so he can meld with the others who are dancing with much more fervor than he was. He chose to focus more on you, waiting for you to notice his presence. Unwilling to disrupt your excitement and happiness at this moment.

“Like the gates of heaven are open now,”

Suddenly, Jake thinks about how anyone could ever be scared of you. How could anyone be angry with you? You were just— Abruptly, you accidentally stepped back and tripped backward, yelping on instinct. Your hands try to reach out for the closest support; your other leg is raised as the other is losing its balance. But just as you grab the silk material, Jake already has his stable hand supporting your back, you face him, and he meets you.

The flashing lights and the dark ambiance made it hard for you to recognize Jake at first. Thinking he was just a random boy who was trying to shoot his shot. Which wasn’t a pretty far-off conclusion, actually. 

Your eyes glowed with the neon lights, and his eyes could only softly reflect yours. With a dazed look, you finally figure it out, “Jake.” You breathe out.

“She says, ``There’s a dangerous kind of cool about you.``” The singer on the stage sang with fervor.

Jake raises you up from your leaning position smoothly. “What are you doing here?” You appraise, fixing yourself.

Still, Jake had his hand unconsciously on your back, ghosting above the semi-exposed skin. “I hang out here every now and then. I know a couple of people here.” Jake replies, leaning closer to your face so you can hear him talk. You face him, and you catch a whiff of the natural musk and a touch of mint from when Jake spoke. “You’re not surrounded by your usual cloud of smoke.”

“I quit.” Jake grins at you, and he cups his mouth. “Apparently, they’re bad for me.”

“You think?” You snarkily reply. You clutch your forehead, regaining your balance while you hold onto Jake’s forearm that he so generously offered to you. “But thanks for having my back. I think I need water, though.”

As you started to navigate through the dancing crowd that was taking your last place, Jake’s figure was right behind you, helping to push the other people lightly. He has his arm stretched out, reaching just above your head, and you look back at him, and all he did was give you a thumbs up and a wide grin. Noticing his scar that stretched out with his grin and you try to clear your throat, ignoring the way his shirt was brushing your back as you walked off.

When the both of you arrived, the bartender was cleaning a glass. When Jake looks up from your form, he notices who the bartender is. “Johan?”

“Oh. Hey.” The boy replies curtly. Jake leans on the counter, sitting right beside where you sat. “Did you always work here? Aren’t you a minor?”

“I make the drinks. I don’t drink them.” He explains. “I’ve been looking for a well-paying part-time job these days.”

Johan then looks at you then flits back to Jake. Mildly interested in how Ryang (Name) and Jake Kim mixed out of the blue.

“Uh, hey. I just need some water.” You call out to the boy. Nodding, Johan reaches out from the cooler behind him after he places the shot glass down. When he handed it to you, he decided to leave you and Jake to your own devices. Johan wasn’t one for engaging in gossip or whatnot.

Taking the cold bottle of water, you try to open the cap. But it was way tighter than it should be. Jake was looking at you struggle all this time, and you felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. He takes the bottle from your hands and opens it with ease, handing it back to you.

“Thank you again.” You fix a strand of your hair and drink the water. Both to cool down from all your burst of energy on the dance floor earlier and from the irritating man that was sitting beside you. Wiping your lip from the water, you face Jake. “If you’re planning on asking me out again, you might as well just get over it.”

Jake opts to lean on his enclosed hand supported by the table. He chooses to change the topic just as he drinks the glass of orange juice Johan left for him. “You know,” Jake starts with a loud volume, giving you a cheeky side glance, “These guys, Bad Suns? They’re pretty good. Though they’re no Weathers or the Technicolors.”

You feel your ears perk up at what he said. Skeptically, your reply. “You know who the Weathers are?”

Jake stands up and leaves his glass on the table. You quickly follow right behind him, with the both of you ending up just a ways back from the center, looking over the most crowded area in the entire club.

“Secret’s Safe With Me. Gave it a listen.” Jake says, inserting his hands in his pocket and using the other to tap his ear.

You pause, still holding on to the water bottle you got earlier. You’re surprised someone like Jake would even care about a band like Weathers. “I saw you out there earlier. Never seen you prettier than when you smile while dancing.”

“You’ve probably only seen me like, what, three, four times?” You chuckle. Jake then notices a waiter carrying trays filled with a bunch of margaritas about to pass by you at an unsteady pace. So, by instinct, he clears the path for the waiter. By having his hand no longer ghost above your back.

You face Jake’s semi-exposed chest, and you internally reel at the proximity of your bodies. Jake could feel your breath near his neck, and he had to gulp to think of something else quickly. But your hands were grounding him, and he could almost feel how you were trying your best not to be pushed further into him so that your chest won’t crash with his. Jake finally looks down at you only to find you already staring up at him, and he feels a form of heat rush up to his head, losing his cool and finding his words. Looking for them in the glimmer of your eyes.

“Come to Beom’s party with me.” Jake finally breathes out, something only you can hear in the noisy atmosphere.

What he says finally grounds you, “You never give up, do you?” You lightly tap on his chest, and he’s left there dumbfounded as you walk back to the dancefloor, right in front of the stage.

But Jake has to know. Cupping both his hands around his mouth, he shouts. “Was that a yes?!”

“No!” You reply, back turned.

Jake tries to catch up to you, grabbing your wrist lightly. “Then, was it a no…?”

You face him, with a close-eyed smile, just like his. “No.”

[theygotlost]

Annotations for le Vimes playlist

hi. read this if you care

YOUTUBE VERSION if you want to listen without spotify

1. The Fool / Neutral Milk Hotel

A little instrumental preamble before the playlist proper. musically, I think it captures the state of Vimes at the beginning of Guards! Guards!. It sounds like a processional fanfare fit for a guard, but cacophonous and lilting, as if the band were stumbling drunk.

2. Wasted on the Senate Floor / Emperor X

Another Guards! Song, though the frantic energy reflects the chaotic excitement of the watch series and Discworld as a whole (and the excitement I get from reading it heehee). The title/refrain is pretty straightforward, just replace “senate floor” with “oblong office”. 

Some other pertinent lyrics:

That feels million to one [a million to one chance??? perhaps???]

Republican watchman from Virginia wraps his fist in a flag To punch our lights out

We've got bloody eyes but we're feeling good Causing confusion in the neighborhood

3. We Live in a Dump / They Might be Giants

I have to put a TMBG song in my discworld playlist, I simply must! Pretty much all the lyrics to this one are relevant, but the pre-chorus specifically fits well with the rank trying to get Vimes out of his drunken stupor and Vimes being dismissed from the watch, both of which happen in Guards! And Men at Arms.

Why be realistic? Don't wake me from my dream I was individualistic They kicked me off the team

4. Grace Cathedral Hill / The Decemberists

How Vimes experiences Ankh-Morpork. There’s a tenderness and melancholy to this song, since Vimes does have a sort of affection for the city despite how terrible it is.

All dust and stone and moribund

The air, it stunk of fish and beer

The suggestion of CMOT dibbler: 

We were both a little hungry So we went to get a hot dog

The pilgrims, pills, and tourists here Will sink fifty-three bucks to buy A brand new halo

This could be Sibyl, who knows!!

Sweet on a green-eyed girl All fiery Irish clip and curl All brine and piss and vinegar

I know “piss and vinegar” is an expression describing her personality (Vimes is really more the one full of piss and vinegar), but taken literally it would also accurately describe the smell of the city.

5. Dirty Old Town / Ewan Maccoll

A continuation of the themes from the previous song. I originally had the cover by the Pogues in here for the longest time, but I decided to replace it with the original from 1949 because it brings a more interesting color (the clarinet!!).

6. Precinct 41 Major Crime Unit / Sea Power

Another instrumental interlude, this time from the Disco Elysium soundtrack. Discworld and Disco Elysium are so closely linked in my mind, Vimes absolutely has Harry’s skillset inside his brain and you CANNOT convince me otherwise. As the title suggests this song is the theme for Harry’s police precinct, and I totally imagine it playing during an intense moment with the Watch.

7. Hurricane Drunk / Florence + the Machine

Yeah yeah I know it’s sooo easy to fill my playlist with songs about alcoholism. Well if the boot fits! Plus:

No walls can keep me protected No sleep, nothing in between me and the rain

Pretty good imagery here of Vimes’ night patrols and/or passing out in the gutter.

8. Down by the Water / The Decemberists

The river Ankh, if we’re using a generous definition of the term “water”.

9. Cap in Hand / The Proclaimers

FUUUCK the nobility!!!

10. Average Working Man / Panicland

FUCK the nobility… 2!!! He's God's message to the high class folk!!!! This is a perfect song for encapsulating Vimes’ RAGEEE

11. This Night / Black Lab

This one’s about the Summoning Dark/”The Beast”:

There are things, I have done There's a place, I have gone There's a beast and I let it run Now it's running my way

And then there’s this: 

So take this night And wrap it around me like a sheet I know I'm not forgiven But I need a place to sleep So take this night And lay me down on the street I know I'm not forgiven but I hope That I'll be given some peace

From Jingo:

He was, temporarily, a happy man. He was cold, wet and alone, trying to keep out of the worst of the weather at three o’clock on a ferocious morning. He’d spent some of the best nights of his life like this. At such times you could just…sort of hunch your shoulders like this and let your head pull in like this and you became a little hutch of warmth and peace, the rain banging on your helmet, the mind just ticking over, sorting out the world…

12. Get Better / Frank Turner

Vimes’ character is all about learning from mistakes and making an effort to become a better person. All the lyrics are relevant, but here’s the chorus:

I'm trying to get better 'cause I haven't been my best She took a plain black marker, started writing on my chest She drew a line across the middle of my broken heart And said "Come on now, let's fix this mess" We could get better because we're not dead yet

ILY SYBIL!!!!!

13. Damn These Vampires / The Mountain Goats

In terms of the song order of this playlist, this is the calm before the storm, the darkness before the dawn; Just one last quick interlude before the main event.

Crawl 'til dawn On my hands and knees Goddamn these vampires For what they've done to me

I admit this whole song is a little bit of a stretch, but the refrain is a nod to Vimes’ attitude toward vampires that’s addressed in Thud!. He spends some time crawling around like a beast in that book too.

14. Blossoms / The Amazing Devil

The crown jewel, the piece de resistance of this playlist! The Night Watch song of all time!!! I don’t feel like I need to break down the lyrics here since I already made this piece illustrating all the relevant lyrics. ✌ Ugh the emotional intensity of this one is really the important part. Leave it to the amazing devil to write Epic Music. 

15. Caesar / The Oh Hellos

This song also has a very Epic feeling to it so I have it riding on the high of Blossoms, but it’s less energetic so I think of it as a cooldown. I always thought the title referred to Julius Caesar, but Genius lyrics is telling me it’s actually about Jesus. whatevarrrr. Because I thought it was about the assassination of a monarch, I connected it with Old Stoneface. Compare:

Hear on the wind how the pendulum swings Feel how the winter succumbs to the spring Over the palisade morning will break Rise up to meet it, oh sleeper awake

With Jingo:

He had always wondered how Old Stoneface had felt, that frosty morning when he picked up the axe that had no legal blessing because the King wouldn’t recognize a court even if a jury could be found, that frosty morning when he prepared to sever what people thought was a link between men and deity

16. Untitled / The Long Winters

Just a lil silly one to take us out on a cheerful note! I admit this one doesn’t make much sense because it’s about living in a rural area and not an urban center like Ankh-Morpork but… I gotta get back to my shanty town!! And I’ve put a lot of folk music on this playlist bc even though he’s not a country boy VImes has some very folksy salt-of-the-earth sensibilities. Just let me have this one

[redwolf17]

The whole interview is well worth a read, but here’s a few highlights

Hozier tactfully addressing the internet lust brigade:

Hozier may find comfort in maintaining a certain level of mystery. Earlier this year, a Spotify user shared a playlist titled submissive men !! that featured four Hozier songs, including “NFWMB,” from his 2018 EP Nina Cried Power. The musician finds his inclusion on the playlist “interesting” and raises his eyebrows at the idea that he might have some songs out serving as theme music for all the subby boys out there.

“I think I’m glad most people don’t know me all that well,” he says. “Sometimes I think the negative space between me and the actual me and fans is filled with very, I think, attractive descriptions of myself or attractive imaginings of myself.”

Hozier on the politics of his music:

That said, he doesn’t want his music used for causes he doesn’t support. “What I’m concerned [with] is if it gets co-opted for something that’s harmful or deliberately harmful,” he says, his voice becoming firmer with his conviction. For as many love songs as Hozier sings, he is equally committed to social justice and calling attention to inequality and oppression. In “Butchered Tongue,” from Unreal Unearth, he highlights the colonialist practice of forcing indigenous peoples to abandon their mother languages. He also directly references pitchcapping, an ancient form of torture famously used by the English to put down the Irish Rebellion of 1798. Pointing out the atrocities of the world is as important to him as declarations of undying love.

“I'm very interested in Irish history, but I find that Irish history– it’s one little microcosm of something that happened across the world, you know what I mean? And so my understanding, the history of my place, where I come from—it informs my understanding of imperialism, of global imperialism, and it informs my understanding of global power structures,” he says. “They’re part of my psychic makeup, just from what I understand of my own country’s history, my own nation’s history. … It colors the lens, as it were, with how I see the world.”

Hozier on fans ignoring the influence of Black artists on his music:

“This is kind of part of the wider thing … I can talk about my influences being of Black artistry. It’s mentioned all the time. It is in the work. It’s literally in the work … and it’s just something that is not taken seriously,” he says.

Black fans have often taken to social media to express their own frustration at how white fans conveniently ignore Hozier’s tributes to Black artists, praising him instead as a ridiculously tall forest elf from a magical land far, far away. But Hozier says it’s natural for him to pay homage, to take care of the work he’s built his own on.

“It just seems strange that it wouldn’t be part of the conversation,” he says. “And it’s so fundamental to my influence. I named the songs after Black artists, and the work is signposted constantly back to it. I just try to be honest with it as best I can, and try to approach that conversation with the spirit of honesty and openness.”

[victimsofyaoipoll]

I'm like 70% sure I sent the wlw dominated fandoms ask and was just feeling like being on anon that day (if I wasn't and just nearly submitted something super similar I'm so sorry original anon) the main fandoms I was thinking of were

The Owl House: Another anon suggested that so I won't bother with too much. Canon wlw ship and canon nblw ship, it took a while for me to even see a mlw or mlm ship come into the picture.

Revue Starlight: Absolute favorite anime/franchise, no I don't understand it 100% because you usually won't immediately. It was what I was really thinking of there. It has exactly one super explicit lesbian there (Mahiru, local winner of exactly one really big lesbian tournament I found on Twitter who stood alongside Hatsune Miku as the ultimate lesbian) and several wlw ships so heavily implied that they are pretty much canon. You also get your pick from the big ships (not noting Mahiru ones. Sorry girl), so you can choose between the childhood friends who act like they're broken up 50% of the time and like they've been taking for years the other 50%, the girls who look like the healthiest happiest practically married couple until you get to the eventual problems (mostly in the movie, despite the many mental problems one of the components of the ship has), the two rivals who were the only couple happy by the end of the movie and the focused on couple of two childhood friends who decided to define their lives around a play which is a tragedy and just met after years apart. Also it's one of the only fandoms where a really big ship I see (Mahikaren) is a poly ship so there's that. There's also two movies (one's a recap), stageplays, a mobile game which only 50% of the players like (the big suggestion regarding it is to just find videos of the stories/read them because there is some really brilliant writing there and another super explicit lesbian in the form of Rui and many more very heavily implied ones) and more.

Gundam Witch: This isn't the actual title just shortened. Anyways this series is a good entry to the Gundam series as a whole but works as a stand-alone series. The main character and the next most focused on one are both canonically sapphic and in love and I care about them. I'm trying to make this shorter than the Revue explanation since I just really love that series so much but this fandom also has other wlw ships which have popped up and generally is just great for wlw content.

Bandori: It's a gacha mobile rhythm game but we all have our flaws (and I really love the rhythm parts and all of the super good music. Like I need to clarify that I was only talking about the gacha as a flaw because I know it's the one bit which may not be loved. That's one one thing I left about the Revue mobile game too. gacha unfortunately is very good for ongoing stories). Very few men exist here, the ones who do are related to main characters usually and are outside of their age range and the characters are all very very sapphic. Plus there's exactly one super canon ship (Parechu) where one of the characters involved has an arc heavily relating to the lesbian experience (and who also writes what is basically a love song for her gf considering all of the lyrics. Basically what I'm saying is that they're super in love), more with canon crushes on girls, and generally there's a lot of wlw fanwork in the series due to how sapphic all of these girls are. and I love the writing very much.

There are others but these are the ones constantly in my head. If I can think of any more I might send in another ask, and I'm also happily looking through the other wlw dominated fandoms I see because I'm always looking for media which is sapphic inside and outside of canon

^

[themculibrary]

Fic Titles That Are Based On Lyrics Masterlist 3

part one, part two

And I Would Drive 500 Miles (ao3) - Nickies_Nonsense steve/tony, harley/peter N/R, 10k

Summary: After endgame Tony decides the team needs a break from saving the world. What follows is a two week long road trip told through the eyes of each avenger. Sam doesn’t know if being stuck in the car for two weeks counts as a break. Steve wants to give Harley a shovel talk. Peter is just happy to be there. Team bonding, cuddling, and lots of really bad singing ensues.

- Thor’s road trip snacks - a mixed playlist with all the avengers favorite songs - a team of underpaid babysitters

baby, i was born this way (ao3) - haveufoundwhaturlookingfor ned/peter, steve/bucky G, 1k

Summary: Peter is ready to come out to his dad, but he's nervous. Luckily, he has an understanding dad.

Build Me Up, Buttercup (ao3) - ElisabethMonroe steve/sam/bucky M, 17k

Summary: Sam Wilson doesn't expect to end up on a baking show after posting a few silly videos online. He doesn't expect to meet Steve Rogers, the greatest actor of all time, or Bucky Barnes, the saddest man with a fake smile as sweet as his buttercream frosting. And even though he doesn't want to win, suddenly surviving elimination rounds is the only way to keep the other two men close and, for some reason, he doesn't want to lose them. Or the things they get up to when the cameras stop rolling.

Can't Help Falling in Love (ao3) - Eeva21 druig/makkari G, 1k

Summary: It's the night of Ikaris and Sersi's wedding. Kingo plays Cupid by getting Druig to dance with Makkari. The night ends with the pair in the rain, and Druig confesses his feelings to Makkari.

Don't Stop Me Now (ao3) - CloudAtlas clint/natasha, peggy/steve T, 3k

Summary: After three years of rooming with Steve Rogers, Clint has discovered that the best thing about him is how he is absolutely, pathologically, unable to turn down a dare.

Wherein Clint and all his friends take to meddling in Steve's love life because they're terrible people.

do you wanna feel a little beautiful, baby? (ao3) - nerdwegian clint/phil E, 5k

Summary: In which Clint’s a cheerleader and Phil’s got a problem with authority. And then porn.

got a whole lot of history (ao3) - haveufoundwhaturlookingfor G, 600

Summary: Bucky meets Wanda at the airport for the first time before the big fight. His first instinct is to protect her with all his might.

If I Could Fly (ao3) - Ashleyparker2815 N/R, 24k

Summary: Peter was adopted by Tony and Pepper Stark when he was only days old. He has a life with them but his world gets ripped apart after his biological parents; May and Ben Parker want custody of their son back.

if the heavens ever did speak (ao3) - hardboiledmeggs peggy/steve M, 1k

Summary: Steve lands in France, and has a rendez-vous with Agent Carter.

I was Born Sick (ao3) - HepG2 steve/tony E, 17k

Summary: For all the genius he was, it certainly took Tony a while to learn of this... "sickness" within. He'd liked them on the same team and that wasn't normal. He could fight this, cure this! So he hid, rebelled. First he removed Steve out of the equation. Then he drowned himself in liquor and sex. Just, Steve wouldn't leave him alone. And that made it so much worse. Inspired by Hozier's "Take Me to Church".

Weakly Tony rose, his chin tilted upwards as he claimed Steve’s lips with his. He held onto the warmth, onto the memory. Let him have this. Let him remember the gentle brush of their kiss, the passing breath on his skin.

“You can’t love me, Tony.”

“And you can’t stop me.”

Lights Will Guide You Home (ao3) - DeerstalkerDeathFrisbee clint/natasha G, 2k

Summary: Five times Natasha acted like a mom and one time she officially was one.

my heart skips (skips) a beat (ao3) - soniclipstick (veriscence) clint/phil T, 2k

Summary: It’s 'too-fucking-early’ am and less than a week before mid-terms, and Clint’s knee deep in snow, because some moron accidentally set the communal kitchen on fire. Clint had declared murder in front of all his friends - his frozen balls would be avenged.

The only wrinkle in the plan is that the aforementioned moron is Phil Coulson. And if Clint wants revenge, he’s going to have to first learn to stop his heart from beating faster than the drums in a Fall Out Boy song whenever it gets within a few feet of Phil.

no one teaches you what to do when a good man hurts you (and you know you hurt him too) (ao3) - canadiandutchiefangirl peggy/daniel T, 4k

Summary: Peggy had known, from the first day, it would be difficult. From the first time she’d walked into the LA office, newly transferred from New York, she’d felt the looks sent her way. But she was used to all of this. Surely she had gone through worse before, with her relationships with Steve and Howard openly speculated upon in New York. She had handled all of that. She could handle this too.

Peggy transfers to the new SSR office in LA to be closer to Daniel but finds the transition more difficult than she expected.

now you know me, for your eyes only (ao3) - Hazloveshisboo steve/bucky T, 2k

Summary: Bucky and Steve get together.

Only The Brave (ao3) - Coffee_and_notebooks bucky/steve/tony, pepper/rhodey G, 6k

Summary: Tony, a single omega and the owner of a tech company, falls head over heels his son’s teacher.

And if that wasn't cliché enough, he's gone and fallen in love with his son’s teacher's boyfriend too.

Seriously, what was he thinking?

take a sip of my magic potion (i'll make you fall in love) (ao3) - latinacap steve/bucky G, 16k

Summary: Working as a barista at Little Spider's wasn't the most glamorous of jobs, but the pay was good for a college student and Bucky's boss was decent enough. It also didn't hurt that Hot Blonde Guy walked into the coffeehouse every Tuesday, and if Bucky put in a little extra something in his cup — a little magical extra something — well, that was just between him and his familiar. It was all going great until Bucky mixed vodka and his grimoire and accidentally baked a love potion into a cupcake and fed it to Hot Blonde Guy.

And if that wasn't bad enough, a blast from the past in the form of his ex-boyfriend/witch hunter is hunting him.

And if that wasn't bad enough, Hot Blonde Guy turned out to be Captain Fucking America.

The Way I Loved You (ao3) - agayturtle wanda/natasha T, 3k

Summary: "It's 2am and I'm cursing your name..."

Wanda and Natasha's relationship didn't last longer than a couple of months, but Natasha can't help but wonder if they made the right choice when they ended things.

or The Way I Loved You by Taylor Swift but it's Wandanat.

this is me trying (ao3) - wlwromanoff (orphan_account) wanda/natasha T, 7k

Summary: i had a feeling so peculiar, that this pain wouldn't be for evermore

as natasha falls into a downward spiral, wanda is there for her.

Waiting for Superman (ao3) - CantansAvis clint/natasha T, 2k

Summary: Clint’s missing; but he isn’t the one waiting for Superman.

you're a crisis of my faith (ao3) - bvckysarm steve/bucky, george/winifred, clint/natasha, bucky/brock E, 75k

Summary: It’s unfamiliar seeing as he’s not in his own house, but not enough that he isn’t able to tell the creak of a floorboard when he hears one. Which means someone’s coming upstairs.

[3-cats-in-a-coat]

The marauders + Regulus (mostly Regulus and Remus) as lyrics from kent songs:

But first, formatting and translation: the original swedish lyrics are in italics and the translations are written one line underneath [like this], a comma will usually signify the break between two lyrics that are right after each other. I will mostly be directly translating them from Swedish, so the syntax might not make a lot of sense.

Dom Andra [The Others]:

En pessimist i sitt livs form, Jag vädrar blod, det luktar sorg

[A pessimist in its life form, I despise blood, it smells like sorrow]

- Reggie and Remus

En utomjordings kärlekstörst, En undran vem som svek vem först?

[An aliens love thirst, a wonder of who let who down first?]

- literally everyone (probably not the alien part tho)

Och jag blir gärna en martyr, Vi behöver nog en ny

[And I’ll gladly become a martyr, we probably need a new one anyway]

- Regulus, but also everyone (other than Peter but it could still work from his own twisted perspective)

Och vi kommer inte längre, Vi är tillbaks på noll, Men ingen kommer sörja, Vi har spelat ut vår roll, Vi glömmer hela skiten, Det betyder ingenting, Vi skulle kommit längre, Men räckte inte till

[And we’re not getting any further, We’re back to zero, But no one’s gonna mourn, We’ve played out all our roles, We’ll forget the whole shit, It doesn’t mean anything, We would’ve gotten further, But it wasn’t enough]

- everyone, once they realized that the whole first war was pointless and that Dumblewhore was a manipulative cunt who used them.

And your old friend waits with the scythe in a swing and how you played when you were kids - Sirius when Bellatrix killed him because no matter what she did or how much he tried to deny it, she was still his cousin Trixie who he played with when they were kids and he still had somewhat loving memories of that, of her.

The sleep came and you were so right in time, the sleep came like tears against your screen, the sleep came like a right twisted opinion, but compared to dollars and yen death can easily become a joke - literally everyone

You’ve lost your war, you’re the last one left, and no one is coming to your defense (coming to your defense) so you stand in a salute with your back straight and you take 400 hits - Regulus realizing that no matter what he does he will never be good enough for his parents and that he should have just left with Sirius when he asked.

Den Döda Vinklen [The Dead Angle]: (the title of this song could be a reference to the whole album it’s from being from death’s POV or it could also be a reference to the blind spot in a car)

I was alone for a long time, an only child, the monster underneath a home built bunkbed - Remus (I want to hug him)

Give me a winter drug, give me all you’ve got. Come now I’m chronically low, the only thing that can be heard is the darkness - Remus after Halloween 1981 begging for Sirius to be innocent

In your eyes there was a storm I saw, like summer snow, from the dead angle/blind spot I see everything you do - Regulus’ ghost watching Sirius fuck up his entire life, eternally destined to facepalm so hard and so much that he would break his skull if he could.

And there they’re coming, I can see them between the trees. Please can you help me escape? - Regulus to Sirius and Sirius to James

(These lyrics are from Den Döda Vinklen [The Dead Angle], this could be a reference to the whole album it’s from being through the perspective of death or it could also be a reference to the blind spot in a car)

And everyone who’s ever loved you has hated me out of fear - wolfstar (this was somehow the only lyric from Palace & Main that worked and I don’t know how)

An icey wind over the water bears an echo from the world of the dead, a greeting from a jealously scornful ocean - Reggie, obviously (for like the fiftieth time because the whole Du & Jag Döden [You & Me Death] album is just incredibly Regulus coded)

And in the bars the wreaks cling tight we mourn a lost burden and the snow helps the debris fall down. Black branches obscure the white of the house, I haven’t been here since all of this was yours. - Remus talking to an imaginary version of Sirius after the first war ended.

Like a Romeo in jeans on your balcony (I want you, you’re mine, you’re only mine) I’m the shadow by your screen door once again (I want to have you, I’m yours, I’m only yours) - Sirius to Remus, either immediately after he escaped from prison or a bit after the prank (I like the first option much more because I don’t like the idea of the prank ever happening)

And your dress is like rags in my hands- Sirius when he found Lily

(All of the most recent lyrics are from Romeo Återvänder Ensam [Romeo Returns Alone])

And you and I hold our breath and hold hands in the leap, it’s not that long till we reach home, and even so there’s still a thousand tears left - Sirius and Regulus while running away together (I might be a bit delulu)

So don’t ever apologize again. And we’re finally passing their borders. Do you remember our blood oath, our law? Our idiotic crusade against an equally stupid town? I remember everything like nails to glass, but you just laugh at me and reduce everything to a joke, but I see in your pathetic demeanor and your hunting look that it feels like there’s still far to go to get home, and soon there won’t be any more tears left - also Sirius and Regulus running away together

And that boy I never knew, that roamed streets I never saw, thought thoughts I never thought, under a thin and frizzy haircut, as all the feelings struck and exploded during a time when nothing happened in a city that never slept, but we were all young once my love. Yes, we were all young once. Yes, we were all young once - Remus, Sirius and Regulus

And I’m scared out of my own life of living and I’m scared to death of dying, but we will all die one day my love. Yes, we will all die one day - Regulus and James

(These past lyrics are from Mannen I Den Vita Hatten (16 År Senare) [The Man In The White Hat (16 Years Later)].)

[projecthipster]

The Catcher in the Rye

I might need a hat like that. Fashion is about having the confidence to face a hard and phony world and protect you from it.

“Among other things, you'll find that you're not the first person who was ever confused and frightened and even sickened by human behavior. You're by no means alone on that score, you'll be excited and stimulated to know. Many, many men have been just as troubled morally and spiritually as you are right now. Happily, some of them kept records of their troubles. You'll learn from them—if you want to. Just as someday, if you have something to offer, someone will learn something from you. It's a beautiful reciprocal arrangement. And it isn't education. It's history. It's poetry.”

I figured I might start adding playlists to these posts, too. I didn't make this one but it's the best one since it's non-lyrical to focus on the lyrical prose of the book, and it's not so anachronistic. There's plenty of jazzy tracks in here that make me think of ambling a '50s New York street on a winter night. And even Holden wouldn't call them corny.

I was sort of sitting there getting ready to write a review of The Catcher in the Rye and it killed me. It really did. I get a big kick out of this book. But it can be so phony to write about a book that everyone knows. That can be so crumby. Still, maybe I could sort of get a bang out of writing like Holden Caulfield.

Sorry. Ok. Me again.

And so we come to it at last. By which I mean, it hasn’t been that long. This is still early days of Project Hipster. The Hip (like the Jest?) is near infinite, at least insofar as my writing and reading and watching and eating and listening capacity can take me in one lifetime. But we’ve come at last to one of the defining books, not just of Hipster counterculture, which might or might not exist, but of the concept of counterculture in general, and of postmodernity and contemporary literature as a whole. 

You can find lots of “Shit Hipsters Say” videos dated circa-2011 on Youtube, and most are a bit cringe. The exceptional masterpiece is the series by 1909 Productions. As a Brooklyn music video production co-op, they’re so deep into the scene that it makes me a bit jealous, so they know the real shit that makes it so much funnier. And among rambling lines about warehouse conversions and strange music, one of the pitch-perfect scenes is of a guy just glancing over knowingly and saying, almost suggestively, “Catcher in the Rye.” That’s how Hipster this book is - it’s just the title. Why?

Well, I theorize that it’s for a few reasons.

It’s a masterpiece of subtly experimental style

It was influential for Beats and Hippies, the progenitors of the twenty-first century fusion that is the Hipster.

And most importantly, to the point that those others are just gravy,

3. It’s entirely focused on the character of Holden Caulfield, the most intense and insufferable (but actually very sufferable and enjoyable) hipster you’ve never met.

Man, I don’t know how I can cover this one in one post. Catcher isn’t a long book, but every sentence is packed with meaning.

I’ve found it’s fairly common for Catcher to be derided online these days. I’ve seen it called “male manipulator lit,” which puzzles me a bit when Holden can’t manipulate anyone into anything. He occasionally thinks he might be able to, but it never goes well. Maybe it’s because it’s male-focused and emotionally sensitive, and some might hold that a man showing emotion is obviously doing it to garner sympathy, manipulatively. I hate everything about this thought process, so let’s move past it. Others say that Holden is annoying, self-centered, whiny, miserable in his own head. To that I say: aren’t we all? 

The common factor is apparent. It’s never the writing that drives people one way or the other on Catcher, it’s the character. The perception of a whiny and privileged character. There’s a want to dismiss Holden’s suffering and isolation because he’s grown up rich and had expensive schools paid for. Never mind that his parents are paying for those schools because they can’t deal with him being at home. Never mind that Salinger, who fought through D-Day and saw the Holocaust in person, chose this kid as the lens he wanted to use to explore what the isolation of trauma feels like. Him and the Glass family in Franny and Zooey. That one felt like less of a challenge to review, because it’s not SUCH a landmark. These messed-up kids were a veteran’s way of processing his broken generation. That’s why I consider Salinger one of the Beats. Maybe he’s not so much a branch off the Beat tree, but he’s like a poplar split in half at the base of the trunk that grew into two trees. Because even if he never did drugs with Kerouac, they were both of that lost generation trying to figure out where they belonged after the shattering of the American idyll in the war, the split in psyche between those who suffered through war and those state-side who prospered from it. Kerouac found a lifestyle, albeit not a healthy one, that saw him find a new place. Salinger was even more beaten than that, and that’s why his literature all focuses on the search, not the finding. That’s a common factor in alleged “hipster literature” that’s come my way via this project, being the voice of lost and shaken generations, and I have my theories on that. While millennials at the turn of the 10s hadn’t suffered through a world war like Hemingway or Fitzgerald or Salinger or Kerouac or Vonnegut, they’d had their view of the future shaken by the sudden collapse of the market of opportunities. Modernism and confident conformity to the old way, be that European imperialism or American capitalism, suddenly held less promise. Is it any wonder that the contemporary hipster, the postrecession searcher for purpose, would feel the connection?

But this is all reading things autobiographically, which Salinger hated. He went into seclusion after writing Catcher, rather than respond to any of all the inevitable questions raised by the cryptic text. Right near the start, in chapter 3, Holden says “what really knocks me out is a book that, when you’re done reading it, you wish the author that wrote it was a terrific friend of yours, and you could call him up on the phone whenever you felt like it.” There’s some irony to Salinger writing that dialogue (It’s not in quotation marks, but the whole book is dialogue) in a book exactly like that, and then hiding himself away from it.

Speaking of the start.

Catcher starts with our boy Holden getting kicked out of another fancy private school. Except it doesn’t. The beginning is after the end, establishing that Holden is writing the story from some sort of psychiatric institute, and he never outright says that it’s a form of therapy, but why else would he be writing like this, diving into his thought process as much as he can, but never too deep, always bobbing back up into the safe air of narration, hinting at further depths? We’re about to read two hundred compact little pages (like I said, Catcher is a pretty short book, and it reads at such a clip that it’s through before you know it and leaving the reader wanting more, which leads them to Franny and Zooey) of this kid wandering the city looking for any sort of conversation that can feel meaningful to him, anyone who’s willing to listen. There’s something of a subtly implicit happy ending threaded into every chapter though, in the fact that we’re able to read it. “Listen,” says Holden, to begin many a sentence, and if we’re open-minded readers, we do. Here is his voice laid bare, with all the vulnerabilities and wrong thoughts and contradictions of life confused and teetering on the cliff-edge of adulthood, and we can choose to see through it to a kernel of lonely soul yearning for connection. Though even in the writing, Holden’s most vulnerable dialogue, there are walls. He “sort of” does more things than he outright does. He starts off by denying the reader any backstory, and this is a funny knock at overwrought “David Copperfield kind of crap,” common to classic literature, but it’s also him being protective of his life. Who are you to want to know that crap, dear reader? By the way, I hate movies. Never mind that when I meet up with Sally the first thing I suggest doing is going to a movie. 

Everyone is a phony to this kid, maybe because he’s phony to everyone, including You The Reader, but for the most part he doesn’t hate them for it. Mostly he feels sorry for them, thinking they may not have genuine connection in their lives. I'll turn the table, then, and think the same about him. On the other hand, when Holden gets on about people close to him that he genuinely likes - dead brother Allie, Jane Gallagher, and above all Phoebe - the pages become third person love letters. This kid is full of love and full of resentment and rattled by trauma but trying to remain pure and trying to keep others pure in the innocence of childhood, where all good things are petrified as in a museum. But he comes to learn to let go, just a little bit at the end as he watches Phoebe place his hat on his head, knowing it helps him. Full of love and pride he watches her grow up just a half-step more, her red hair curling into the curling ornamentation of a carousel horse to create one of the most iconic cover images ever. It’s all contradiction and denial more than straightforward convinced ideology, and isn’t that what growing up is all about? Isn’t that what living in this confusing, contradictory, phony world is all about? It’s laughable and serious and pretentious and vulnerable and scornful and sweet.

Of course, classic books can also be evaluated by their legacy, and Catcher has a huge one. Other books of the mid-century might have had their impact on culture mainly through more widely accessible movie adaptations. Catcher never did, per Salinger's express intent. He never really said why, except that he didn't want to see an intensely personal story adapted by someone else. It's amazing, then, that a solely textual work, so defined by unique textual style, could spawn arguably a whole genre. I see The Outsiders cited as the first modern young adult or teen novel often enough. The word "teenager" was only invented in the fifties, after all, as adolescence began to be recognized as its own stage of life. But Catcher came just before. The Outsiders would probably exist without it, but the modern universe of YA books, from Judy Blume to Leigh Bardugo, thousands of stories that may be wildly genre-diverse but by definition featuring young heroes facing the burgeoning confusion of maturity, responsibility, sexuality, and complexity, would probably look very different without the big splash of a landmark excellent exploration of those themes right at the postwar dawn of American cultural hegemony. Famous coffee company John Green has built a prominent splinter of his own wildly diverse career on just this kind of story. I do plan to read some of those as Project Hipster continues. It's no surprise then that he's made no less than seven videos about The Catcher in the Rye. If you want to continue thinking that anything I wrote here is remotely original, don't watch those.

Oh, yeah, I forgot one more reason that hipsters love Catcher in the Rye

4. They’ve got good taste, and this is a damn good book.

In fact,

I give this hipster book five hunting hats out of five.

Project Hipster is a futile and disorganized attempt to dive into the world of things that the internet has at some point claimed "are hipster," mostly through ListChallenges search results.

This review comes from the Twelfth list, Only Hipsters Have Read 17/35 of These Books.

Up next: a movie I enjoyed but I’m not sure I fully “got.”

Stay deck.

[distortedclouds]

Helloooooo clouds!!! For the fic writer Year in Review!

1, 3, 16, 18, 22

Well hello there :)

What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year? How did it turn out and would you do it again?

I already gave an answer with Anna, but maybe.... fluff?

It's fun! gets me screaming giggling kicking my feet warm sort of way. I just prefer my fics with a dash of pain

3. What’s something you learned about yourself as a writer?

That I right in bursts.

No longer going to escape this fact when it's been evident throughout 2023 (and even 2022). Things rarely take me "a long time" a chapter that takes me a month to write is just three weeks of doing nothing and 1 weeks of feverish writing

16. What were you go-to writing songs?

Hmm.... while a bit of a cliché Mitski's My Love Mine All Mine was actually a HUGE inspiration for A leaf in the wind is all I want

Other than that, you know that Of Monsters and Men are my go-to for lyrical inspiration and they've yet to fail me!

A lot of taylor swift but those are mostly vibes rather than straight up inspiration

18. What was the hardest fic to title?

I... don't care much about titles. A lot of them is either direct lyrics or something I come up with literally minutes before posting so yeah...

while not really 2023, but Black Water was the first and last time I stressed out about a fic title. Fun fact! It was very very almost named "let your colors bleed and blend with mine" for OMAM's Crystals (which is an indirect inspiration for BW as well you're welcome to analyze that but i'd advice against it) It was that title in the AO3 drafts right until the moment I posted the first chapter. Changed it last minute!

22. Share an excerpt from your favorite scene

You know I love this one!

Black Water, Ch 20

Where the bedroom door stands half open, Armin is offered a peek into the space often kept private. There, Annie is sprawled on the bed and he gets why she didn’t need to burn into his reserve of firewood; she’s tucked under a pair of thick covers, one knitted and one woven, but she’s not clutching her arms and legs to her core; not bunching up the blankets to her chest because he’s not around to help her stay warm. From where he’s standing, Armin can see her chest rise and fall with predictable ease and he thinks he might miss winter once it’s fully gone, replaced with suffocating heat and humidity that wedge themselves between their bodies, forcing them to peel off blankets and minimize contact during their slumber. That’s a shame, for sure, but for now, he could stand in the door and count her breaths, in and out, until she stirs awake or maybe until the soles of his feet grow sore.

wow what a wild year!

[thedeadpolyphonic]

an unreasonable gush post for fictional band, infant sorrow.

infant sorrow is without a doubt one of the greatest musical moments in all of history, fictional or not. if 'coming up' doesn't legitimately inspire you, you're lying. if 'inside you' isn't your wedding song, you're lame.

so let's get into what makes this amazing musical experience what it is. let's talk russel brand/aldous snow. the man is a BRILLIANT creator of literally all things. he's an intellectual mind with a spiritual soul and a comedic outlook on life. his comedy is always quick witted and deliberate. this plays a role in the music of Infant Sorrow. now, let's get into the actual music. we'll start with the ONLY song i DON'T like, just to get it out of the way:

'furry walls.' i feel like this song was thrown together quickly as a lubricant for a scene in the film. this song is not canon part of the discography for me. period.

moving on. let's get into my FAVORITES:

'yeah yeah oi oi' --this is really a britpop masterpiece. it's fun, it's catchy, it's witty, and it just makes you fucking smile. the lyrics are so sharp but sweet and hilarious. case in point: "yeah yeah, oi oi, put your hand up for sex, for me and me helmet and wherever it winds up next" sweet and cute, but then "put your hands up for our queen, for shagging five birds in the back of limosine" dirty and delightful. and the bridge? beautiful. i could go on and on about this song, but we've got more to get to, so.. YEAH YEAH, OI OI, put your dominant hand....on the mouse to scroll to the next paragraph.

'i am jesus' --this song is CRIMINALLY underrated (within the 'infant sorrow' universe and within the real life universe). let's take a little look at the lyrics. "i am jesus, welcome to the church of me" a fantastic start. polarizing to some, DELIGHTFUL to intellectuals. "i've come to feed the fish, heal the world, but first a dirty little kiss" FLAWLESS. "i wear a thorny crown, i live in Honeytown" ;;it's always bordering on sacreligious but in a way that is instantly forgivable because it's so stinking CAMP. "i am mahatma, taking it to the streets, give me your daughter, let me rub your dirty feet." hilarious because in the bible, men literally would give away or sell their daughters. fun little dig at the ridiculousness of biblical religion. and as for rubbing dirty feet, i'm a foot lover myself. so i always appreciate a reference to the love of feet, especially dirty ones. there's actually the most romantic story in the bible where mary magdalane is so in love with jesus, but she doesn't know how to show it the right way 'cause he's literally fucking JESUS, so she shows her love by washing his feet with her HAIR. anyway. that turned into a weird tangent, but it seemed necessary. well, MOVING ON then...

let's get into one of the absolute BANGERSest bangers: 'bangers, beans, & mash' --this song .... is golden. "a suicide in SoHo grand, my wrists so tired from working with my hands..." now this is a BAR and a half. period. this song is honestly filled with so much real emotion and honest feeling. and the musicality is beautiful. "why has the world gone so still? the world is so still, i feel that my next meal might be my last...so will you come for my bangers....my beans and mash?" i mean you can FEEL emotion from this. it's an honest diary put into music form with a catchy brit-centric title and chorus. brilliant. the only word that describes this is BRILLIANT. i feel like i don't even need to go more in depth into this song, as it's the most well known from the film, and everyone loves it and knows it. if you know you know.

let's get into an underground hit, 'just say yes' --a double entendre beauty of a song. if the beatles had a better sense of humor, they would have written this song. "mother mary, marijuana, uncle charlie, top banana" alone is beatles-esque in nature. but this whole song is a convoluted love letter, and everything brit-punk, brit-pop is about honestly. his love is an addiction. and he's a drug dealer in love. when he says "snort me chase me swallow me whole, or take me up your arse if that's the way you wanna go" i felt that. lovely for love and still witty and hilarious.

let's get into the least favorite (canonically from the film's inhabitants) 'african child' --i fucking love this song. deadass. it is SO FUCKING HILARIOUS. disrespectful, condescending, ignorant, and incredibly self-aware. russel brand is such a master at this kind of humor. he truly captures the "#activism" of celebrity culture. it's fucking CHOICE. period. "i have crossed the mystic desert to snap pictures of the poor; i've invited them to bruch, let em crash out on my flooooor" i mean FUCKING HELL that's great. so out of touch and ridiculous. it's just...and i use the damn word again...BRILLIANT. but i think one of the best touches is that he's actually doing a Swahili chant. he took the time and effort (in the film's universe) to gather the language and memorize and learn, but not to actually learn anything about the culture or educate himself. fucking amazing. let's move on, GOD THIS POST IS LONG.

'coming up' --the magnum fucking opus. this song is probably such an honest piece from Russel himself (as well as aldous in the film). the parallels between russel and aldous are almost innumerable (which is why his films are so funny ;;because he's not playing a character, he's just exaggerating himself if even exaggerating. the lyrics are inspirational, it captures the vibe of a true power ballad. it's just MINT. in every possible way. when you've run out of drugs and you're going through it, it's called "coming down." this song, 'coming up' is the absolute opposite. done with the drugs, done with the misfortune, done with self-denial and pain and struggle and sadness. he's coming up instead of coming down. it's a beautiful word choice honestly. plus, "and for twenty bucks in the alley i'm going down, down, down" is a hilarious line. xD and the honesty and pain in "for the ma who always honored me i'm going down, down, down ;;for my pa who never wanted me can you hear what's going on? i'm coming UPPPPPPPPPP" honestly enough to make my chemically imbalanced ass actually cry.

and obviously, 'the clap' --an absolute banger. brit-pop royalty. it's catchy, it's fun, it's just subversive enough. it's a great addition to the film's universe. and it symbolized a special moment for aldous in the movie where he started to remember who he used to be and really kicked off his journey to self-realization.

oh shit! and 'searching for a father' --this one slaps and HURTS. for all of us with daddy issues....well, this song just works.

now onto some honorable mentions featuring the brilliant jackie q. because if 'ring round' isn't on your playlist, you're not getting my aux cord.

Jackie Q

'Supertight'

'You got to me Warm and you're tight I'm going to fuck you so deep I'll give you a lobotomy I'm a zombie You dug me from my grave You took me from Africa And made me your slave"

if these lyrics don't jostle your jimmy you're a dummy. this shit is hilarious, and so smartly worded for a song so debaucherous. "i'm gonna get precarious, i'm a motherfucking stratavarious" i mean...that's literally incredible. this song is a 10/10 would recommend.

'ring round' --needs no explanation. song about a tight butt hole. it's fucking perfect. pop perfection.

OH MY GOD AND I FORGOT 'LITTLE BIRD' i'm already done with this post but i'll be damned if i don't mention this one. it's literally beautiful with moments of comedy and silliness.

also 'riding daphne' is a fucking SMASH HIT.

and i can't believe i didn't do a paragraph on 'inside you' argh. but i love it ;;it's beautiful and remember "there's so much more than just a screw inside of you"

so anyway, this post is long as actual shit. i could do a whole 'nother freakout just about the movies 'Forgetting Sarah Marshall' and 'Get Him to the Greek' but for now i'll leave it at the music. as far as i'm concerned, Infant Sorrow, is a REAL band, Aldous Snow is a real musician, and this is a perfectly legitimate fangirl moment.

[luminouslion]

I have been searching for a multi chapter Marx-centric fic for quite a while now and I haven’t found a single one. Either there is none or I just haven’t found them yet (in that case I would be really grateful to anyone that can send me a link to a Marx centered fanfic that doesn’t have Julius and Marx in a romantic relationship together). So I’m writing my own! I hope you guys enjoy this.

Also all chapter titles are lyrics from the son Paralyzed by NF, which is the “theme” song of this fic!

Also important to know, while this is written in a third person pov it’s written from Marx perspective.

Summary : Atelophobia - The fear of not being good enough -

Or

Marx just started his training with the best Magic Knight Squad, the Grey Deers. Follow him through his journey of finding himself and understanding his own worth.

Warnings: Mentions of child neglect

Word Count: 812

Ao3 Link

Chapter 1: I'm Scared To Live, But I'm Scared To Die

The lake is calm today. White mist lays like a blanket above the dark water. Not a single movement is to be seen.

Marx Francois is sitting at the shallow lakeside. To everyone else, the lake may seem scary at this early time of the day, but not to him. To him, this is his safe place. The only place where he can be utterly alone, unbothered by his parents and the responsibilities that come with being a noble. Being the only child of the Francois house, his family has high expectations for him.

Though at the same time, Marx knows they look down on him. In a world where magic is everything, he was born with magic that doesn’t seem to help the general welfare in any way. On top of that, his magic is comparatively weak and no one really knows the true extent of it, not even Marx himself, because he never really uses it. He doesn’t see a reason to, and he is also afraid of what he might accidentally do to one’s memory if he loses control.

So most of the day he spends doing chores given to him by his parents, who are never around much anyway. He can’t really remember a time when they all spent much time together as a family. That’s probably also the reason he learned to love the loneliness. At least he thinks he enjoys being alone. But truthfully, he doesn’t really know what he truly enjoys anymore.

This lakeside is the only place where he feels at peace. But even though Marx starts to stand up from the abandoned dock he was sitting on. He needs to get home before his parents wake up, so he doesn’t get into trouble. He looks over the lake one last time as the mist slowly starts to disappear before he turns around and slowly walks towards the Clover Kingdoms Capital.

Even at this early hour, the streets of the Capital are already quite busy. Everyone is preparing the city for the Magic Knight Exams, which start in a few days. This year would be the first in which Marx could take part himself. But he doesn’t plan to. Ones a long time ago, he dreamed of becoming a magic knight himself. Defending the Kingdom like all of those strong men and women that seem so invincible. He soon learned that his dream was just that—a dream. Nothing more.

His magic is too weak and potentially too dangerous to ever be of use to the Magic Knights. Even if he tried out, no Captain would ever choose him as a new squad member. He would just make a fool of himself and his family. Besides, the Francois family is quite well known. Therefore, his parents would disown him if he damaged their reputation by failing.

Suddenly, distracted by his own thoughts, Marx bumped into someone, causing him to stumble backwards and crash to the ground. Looking up, he saw a tall man in white-grayish robes and blond hair standing there. His eyes widened in shock as the man turned around. He just ran into the captain of the current best Magic Knight squad, the Grey Deers. Julius Novachrono is well known throughout the entire kingdom for his grandiose actions and for being the most promising candidate for the new Wizard King. And this man is now standing right in front of him with a small, kind smile on his lips.

“Are you okay, kid?” He asked, offering him a hand to stand up.

Marx quickly got up, ignoring the offered hand. “I’m sorry, Sir! I’m fine. Thank you, Sir. I promise it won’t happen again, Sir!”

“It’s all right. Don’t worry about it. But say, what got you so distracted?” The Captain looked at him, squinting his eyes a little bit.

It makes Marx feel a bit uneasy. Like the other man is staring right into his soul. But he tries to ignore the weird feeling rushing through him.

“Nothing really, Sir. I was just lost in thoughts. It won’t happen again.”

“Ah, you are probably worried about the Magic Knight exams, right? Don’t be too nervous. Everything is going to turn out like it should in the end.”

“Oh, I’m not going to take part in the exam. It’s just not something I’m interested in.” Marx explains glumly.

He watches as the Captain's soft smile turns more sorrowful. “That’s quite a shame.”

He turns around and starts to walk away, leaving a confused teen behind.

Looking up at the sun, Marx realizes that it is already way too late and he needs to hurry to get home. On top of that his clothes are dirty from the fall and he most definitely won’t manage to clean himself before his parents see him.

Oh, he is going to be in so much trouble.

[teacherintransition]

Neil Young’s “Old Man” Goes Full Circle …

… perfect for a “Teacher in Transition”

Before I go any further, the title of this article doesn’t infer in any shape, form or fashion that I accept any personal identification as “old.” I hold true to my code of never participating in any unctuous old man talk, not relinquishing the middle age label for at least three more years, and then I give not a damn what other folks might label me. Age is purely a state of mind; but I’m not blind, I am getting older. C’est la vie. My preferences will not change, my personality will still be …uh, loud and I shall not conform.

Clear? Now, there you go; I can now elaborate on my title and the songwriter Neil Young’s masterpiece of music, of which he has many, “Old Man.” I’ve been a devotee of Neil’s music for decades, be it his solo work, with Harvest or CSNY; all his music strikes a deep chord in my spirit. It’s very personal and when I hear a song or two, I’m inspired to pick up my guitar and pick a few of his songs …far from his level of talent, but with all of the emotion. Fear not I’m not charging any cover fee, like it or leave it I suppose. That being said, his song, “Old Man,” has what I think is a universal connection to we human beings regardless of our age.

When I started playing this particular tune in my late twenties, I didn’t clearly see the similarities between a man in his twenties and an older gentleman. You gotta consider at that tender age my life experiences were few, my wisdom limited and my maturity wasn’t nearly as prolific as it is at fifty seven. Not bragging about being wiser than the next guy, but am very aware of my dummy mindset of twenty eight and how much I’ve learned since those years. I see much more in the song now a days. With time being so fleeting, I feel like both of the characters in Young’s song; as if I’ve come full circle like the singer of the lyrics.

You have to think that the young man in the song was wise beyond his years or has talked with the old man at length and picked up some advice. It is the largest of short comings being young, that being an unwillingness to listen to elders. Younger folks have a skewed perception of time: when they come across a person over the age of thirty, that person is old and was probably born that age. I should’ve listened more, but I guess I picked up some wisdom, I see myself in both people in the song. The young and old men both yearn for a love of devotion and experiences in life that are genuine. I detect a slap at materialism being a balm for life’s struggles and an understanding that time flows quickly and few superficial moments stand the test of that flowing movement of time.

This concept is an essential realization that if learned as a young man is like gold; if learned during the hectic halcyon days of career and parenting, then you’re not immune to open mindedness; if as an elder, then better late than never. The concept? We all simply want to love and be loved, and we want our life to have some meaning. Regardless of the age, it is what we seek, we just don’t know to attain that goal or know what fails to satisfy. At twenty eight, the twenty four year old in the song was me, but I didn’t recognize the older one. At fifty seven, I see I am both of them and I’m still need someone to love me the whole day through. I still want life to be filled with things that won’t get lost. If you don’t dig Uncle Neil, so be it; but wisdom is where you find it. Listen to the older folks …

I’ve included Neil Young’s lyrics with a wee bit of paraphrasing…

Old/ young man, look at my life

I'm a lot like you were

Old/ young man, look at my life

I'm a lot like you were/ you’ll be

Old/ young man, look at my life

Twenty four/ fifty four and there's so much more

Live alone in a paradise

That makes me think of two

Love lost, such a cost

Give me things that don't get lost

Like a coin that won't get tossed

Rolling home to you

Old/ young man, take a look at my life, I'm a lot like you

I need someone to love me the whole day through

Ah, one look in my eyes and you can tell that's true

Lullabies, look in your eyes

Run around the same old town

Doesn't mean that much to me

To mean that much to you

I've been first and last

Look at how the time goes past

But I'm all alone at last

Rolling home to you

Old/ young man, take a look at my life, I'm a lot like you

I need someone to love me the whole day through

Ah, one look in my eyes and you can tell that's true

Old/ young man, look at my life

I'm a lot like you were

Old/ young man, look at my life

I'm a lot like you were/ you’ll be

Young, Neil; “Old Man;” Harvest; Reprise Records; 1972

[myrrhmaidwrites]

5 or 6 (or both!) for the WIP ask!

Why not both!

So, the Kent/Mason ice dance fic. I might have gotten this one out of my system with the ficlet I posted a while back, but sometimes when I’m really in my figure skating feels I think about coming back to it.

The premise of this story is that Kent (cisswapped) was injured the previous season, and during her injury, Owen (her ice dance partner of several years) paired up with someone else. Mason, who’s only skated singles before this, volunteers to pair with her, even though it's a horrible idea for his career. Kent is determined to beat Owen and his new partner at Nationals. Mason is going to do whatever Kent wants, even though he might act dumb about it sometimes.

The fic title is taken from Moulin Rouge lyrics. The Virtue/Moir Moulin Rouge program that helped them win gold at the 2018 Olympics is one of my favorite all-time programs, so it felt fitting. I highly recommend watching it. (Also Scott Moir might cameo in this as their coach—haven’t decided yet!)

Because this fic felt Very Het for my tastes, I'm playing with the idea of making Mason bi but having mostly dated men, and so Kent assumes he's gay. Then part of the romance storyline would come from Kent being mad at herself for having a crush on this gay guy and Mason eventually realizing her incorrect assumption and correcting her. (Or I could make Mason gay and give him a bisexuality crisis. Who knows! The possibilities are endless. But I need something gay in this fic!)

Zach/Dylan soulmates—this is a red string of fate AU that I originally talked about on here so long ago that I’m not even going to try to find it, haha. But the premise of this fic is that Zach and Dylan are connected by a red string of fate, but after Zach’s first year with Columbus, when he and Dylan have grown distant, he takes the string off. Part of the conflict is that Zach wanted a relationship between them and Dylan said he wasn’t gay. But Dylan finds Zach’s tossed end of the string and keeps both ends for years and years.

Obviously this fucks Dylan up real bad. Yzerman hears about it and this is part of why Dylan doesn’t get the C for so long—it’s VERY weird for a soulmate to reject you like that.

Eventually, they get traded onto the same team. Things are rough between them at first. Zach desperately wants to apologize and explain and fix things as best he can. Dylan wants it too, obviously, but he knows Zach could easily hurt him again.

And of course, both of them want to win a cup.

Here’s a few lines I wrote about Zach taking off the string. I don’t know if these would make it into the final fic:

"But you're—okay?"

“Yeah,” Zach says. “I just—took it off.”

Dylan doesn’t know what to say to that. He shoves the string down farther on his knuckle and curls his hand into a fist so his end won’t fall off.

“Okay.” He needs to end the call before he does anything like scream out the pain building in his chest or laugh hysterically. “Right, so. Bye.”

[hyvnjinns]

Hi! If I wanted to get into stray kids where should I start?

Oh my goodness anon, I'm so thrilled to receive this ask!! ❤️ Apologies in advance for the long reply ahead, and please don't hesitate to ever send in any other asks if you need clarification or have any other questions! I'm always happy to talk about Stray Kids ^^

I'd say the first place to start depends on whether you are already a kpop fan! If you aren't, it might be helpful--but not required at all!--to take a look at some guides to kpop to get an idea of what people mean when they talk about liners, generations, bias wreckers and daesangs. A good starting place is the kpopfairy carrd--it's a very good introduction to the terminology and culture you might encounter if you choose to become a more dedicated SKZ fan (side note: SKZ is the abbreviation for Stray Kids!).

In terms of getting into their music: a lot of their discography is heavily influenced by trap/EDM and even, notably, psychedelic trance (Side Effects--probably one of their most polarizing songs. It's incredible live though, I have to say). But even if those genres aren't quite your thing (they aren't always mine!), SKZ have one of the most diverse discographies in KPOP and almost certainly most Western groups. The music is almost completely self-produced by three of their members, and their lyrics often focus on issues like growing up and mental health. They have 18 albums + EPs + repackages in total, so the discography can be a bit overwhelming. I recommend watching their most popular title tracks--for instance, God's Menu (2020), the song about their unique musical style that catapulted them to fame both inside and outside of the KPOP circle. I also recommend a video that speedruns their songs across genres, like this one, to get an idea of their varied sound! As far as personal recommendations go, I love Phobia, Cover Me, Winter Falls, Haven, N/S, and SUPER BOARD. And, if you're into something a bit more...mature, Red Lights (a subunit song featuring only 2 out of 8 members) is their most-watched music video ever. Not only is the song amazing (and horny!), but the MV was directed by a queer Korean director who incorporates some kink elements in his work, and it's incredibly sexy. (And pretty rare to see something like that in KPOP, tbh.)

As is common in KPOP, Stray Kids have a lot of "variety" content--their SKZ-Talker series goes behind-the-scenes of award shows and when they're on tour, they sometimes do individual vlogs showcasing days in their life, and on and on! There's also their main variety show, SKZ CODE, where the content ranges from them solving murder mysteries, doing drag for an elaborate "SKZ Family" skit, or playing baseball. While all of these shows are hilarious and very fun to watch, they can be pretty overwhelming at first due to trying to tell everyone apart + reading subtitles while 8 men are shouting all at once! My biggest recommendation is to start by watching some fanmade Intro to SKZ videos like this one or this one. They're not entirely up-to-date (for one, Chan doesn't do Chan's Room anymore, which is tremendously sad), but they provide a great insight into the members' info and personalities. There's also this video which was a godsend when I was trying to figure out who's who! Once you feel comfortable enough with that, it is pretty easy to start watching some of their variety content, especially if you begin with individual vlogs where it's generally just one member!

I hope this makes sense and isn't overwhelming--I know it seems like a bit much since there's a huge amount of content from them! There's absolutely no pressure to consume all of it; I've been a fan for four years now and there's definitely still things I haven't seen and probably never will. Stays (the name for SKZ fans) are also by and large very accepting of casual fans who aren't hugely active within the fandom, and the SKZ Reddit in particular is really welcoming/drama-free with an entire weekly thread for new fans called "Baby Stays" where people can chat with others and ask questions. Have fun!! 💙

[middleagerunblog]

XXIV.

Week 3 Recap

Exercise:

Sun Dec 24 - walked the dog for 35 min, then attempted the Jens Bangsbo Yo-Yo Endurance test, got to 7 and stopped because I didn't want to ruin my Christmas Eve, need to be in better shape before I take a serious crack at that, and now have way more respect for the condition of my younger 2 kids that play competitive soccer and have to do this test from time to time

Mon Dec 25 - 9:48a, outdoors near home, 3.5 mi, 35:54, 10:13 pace

Tue Dec 26 - swapped schedules with Wed, 7:05a, outdoors near home, 3 mi, 30:52, 10:15 pace

Wed Dec 27 - swapped schedules with Tue, 7:17a, outdoors near home, intervals 6 x 400m with easy pace before, between, and after

Thu Dec 28 - rest

Fri Dec 29 - rest

Sat Dec 30 - 7:30a, Clermont Riverfront parkrun, 3.1 mi, 24:26, 7:53 pace

Diet:

I don't really want to dwell on this week's eating performance too much, a week that included Christmas Eve and Christmas and the hangovers thereafter.

I followed up Week 1's B/B+ performance with a C+/B- in Week 2 then a just below C- in Week 3. This puts me at a 2.40 EGPA for Q1, somewhere between a C+ and a B-. I could sit here and analyze my eating results by day of the week, point out the surprises, break down the opportunities for improvement, but I already said I'm not going to dwell on it, and I am working on plans to get better next week.

Alcohol - 9 drinks in Week 3, 9! From 6 in Week 1 to 8 in Week 2 to 9. 9!! This can't be helping with my eating, though I can't really blame it. At the holidays, meals that are too big and too many sweets leads to alcohol more than the other way around. Allowing some New Year's Eve beers, then probably some red wine in January before teetotaling February.

Weigh-in:

Didn't weigh-in this week.

Music:

↳ Favorite new album of 2023 was probably 10,000 gecs by 100 gecs, favorite song from the album is probably, "Hollywood Baby":

So go pitch your fit, no one gives a shit Better off if you just get over it

Saw them live and it was even better hearing it in person.

If I had to pick my favorite 5 new albums of 2023, I'd probably round out the list with Mid Air by Romy, No Joy by Spanish Love Songs, Gigi's Recovery by The Murder Capital, and Honey by Samia.

↳ Favorite old album new to me in 2023 was probably Brave Faces Everyone (2020) by Spanish Love Songs, favorite song from the album might be, "Kick":

Just keep your head down and you'll be okay You're living up to what's expected

It is difficult to articulate how much I love this album. I have listened to it so many times since I first discovered it in September, listening to many of the songs nearly every day since then. Though if I was a broke, young Millennial, the lyrics might hit too hard.

If I had to pick my favorite 5 old albums new to me in 2023, I'd probably round out the list with 1,000 gecs (2019) by 100 gecs, Oncle Jazz (2019) by Men I Trust, Opus (2016) by Eric Prydz, and Computer World (1981) by Kraftwerk.

↳ Old favorite album I listened to for the first time in a long time this year was Hysteria (1987) by Def Leppard--and by long time I mean probably elementary school--song I listened to the most was the title track:

Can't stop this feelin' Can't stop this fire

Listening to this album transports me to another tim when I was living a different life in a different universe, younger than any of my kids are now.

Rereading:

Only reread chapters 11-13 of Kafka on the Shore this week. In another flashback, a truer story of the Rice Bowl Hill incident is revealed via a letter the school teacher writes 28 years later. Still doesn't explain everything. Back in the present, Kafka cleans himself up Sakura's then leaves. Oshima agrees helps him out by driving him out to his family's mountain cabin so he can lay low for a few days.

I happened to rewatch Interstellar this week, is everything about predestination? Still haven't reread In the Penal Colony but plan to this week.