#i think he was the only fashionable person in the whole department

[nyatawia]

Thinking of the guy who hugged me after we both finally passed the french exam even tho we had known each other for two days. I wanted to be best friends with him

#the type of energy i need in my life #smh if i was a normal person we’d be besties now #he had the drippiest outfits i swear #i think he was the only fashionable person in the whole department #and he always painted his nails fun colors #and that was in another city in my old uni at the beginning pf 2020

[randombush3]

a sense of coming home

ona batlle x reader

summary: part two of this! ona and you are (frustratingly) still just friends

words: 6.5k (i have NO idea why i waffle so much but lets pls allow it)

warnings: there's like five secs of smut at the end

notes: this has been the most self-indulgent fic i've written because this is how i met my gf and so i am glad to show you a nice happy ending

again, the quote is from 'this side of paradise' (said gf's fav book - i don't recommend however because the protagonist is a twat)

also i didn't proofread bc i am exhausted and i am hungover and i am very ready to go to sleep (#globetrotting is not for the weak) x

There is something difficult about forcing oneself back to their toxic roots. Ona discovers as such as she presses her body into a temple of meaningless sex, but she does so because she is a driven person. Ona is determined to get over you, once and for all, except she’d quite like to stay friends (hence why she agreed when asked). She also thinks it would expose her to fall out because her feelings shouldn’t have existed anyway, so she technically shouldn’t be heartbroken? 

Anyway, Ona rampages through Manchester! They appreciate her accent – some even ask her to speak to them in Spanish when she is three fingers deep inside of them, to which she obliges with little fanfare – and it isn’t like the city lacks queer women. It is a super solid way to keep her busy, to tear her attention from hungrily checking your Instagram whenever possible. 

It’s also what lands her with coronavirus. She’s embarrassed to admit just how many people she has come into contact with when the club doctors ask her questions over the phone.

You send her a lovely message after hearing she is yet another fallen soldier. 

Ona is at home, isolating, and you are apparently trapped in Spain, unable to get into Italy. You haven’t quite made it to your parents’ house since your flight was supposed to depart from Madrid. “How come you’re not on the phone to one of your ‘connections’?” Ona asks suspiciously, wondering why this call has lasted longer than ten minutes. “Surely someone knows someone else and they can get you back home.” 

“I’m hardly out of my depth in my own country,” you remind her with a twinging sigh, pained that she has suppressed all memories of your childhood. “It’s not like I don’t speak Spanish.” 

“Didn’t you get rid of it in your head to make space for Italian and English? Oh, and French too, right? That’s where the fashion weeks are.” 

You laugh at her pride for knowing something about your job, but it is not to ridicule her. “I am speaking to you, aren’t I?” 

“In Catalan,” she points out. “Forget Spanish, but don’t forget Catalan.” 

“I can’t. It’s the language everyone uses to tell me about how fucked you’ve been lately.”  You take in a deep breath, uncomfortable with Ona’s silence but knowing your piece needs to be said. “Are you aware of what happened a few months ago? Why I missed the wedding?” One of your friends met her dream man and he whisked her off to Menorca for a small ceremony. Only the people she loved the most were invited, which included your childhood friend group. “We were in New York, a whole bunch of us. It was late but the show had been a big deal so we went out to celebrate, and… these ‘friends’, these people, they aren’t the same as you and me. Most of them are English, you know, and they come from very fancy schools where addiction is normal. Two of them ended up in the hospital that night – the bag hadn’t even made it round to me by the time they’d dropped. I know it seems far-fetched, but all I’m trying to say is that addiction has consequences. Bad consequences.” 

“So you’re not on my side?” Ona isn’t taking this too seriously. A few people have joked about her questionable new hobby, but no one has made it seem so dire that they have needed to get you involved. You who, of course, Ona will listen to. 

“I am always on your side.” 

That is her main take-away from the conversation, Ona chooses, when it ends an hour later. She swoons, meaning the last twenty women have been a waste of time, but she also tortures herself into ignoring the potential problem. Being a sex addict would be embarrassing, so she won’t be. 

Though your subtle shaming for her abundance of quick-fix flings is hypocritical, Ona would also hate for you to see her that way. You can avoid commitment all you like, but she is determined to be different to prove to you that she is a viable candidate, should you wish to stop stringing her along. It’s probably toxic; it probably means that you are both clinging onto a friendship that should either end or be labelled something else. It probably is the push and pull that has kept you interested, Ona thinks, because she knows that you like the chase. 

However, as much as she’d like to be freed of whatever game she is caught up in, she can’t seem to let you go like that.

… 

The next time Ona and you have a proper conversation about something other than how your love lives have been stunted or how people back home are not as successful as the two of you is when most of the restrictions have been lifted. 

You waited out the pandemic in Vilassar de Mar, much to your annoyance, but now that you can travel again, the first person on your mind to visit is your childhood best friend. You’re not as close as you used to be, having drifted further during even more years apart, but it does not dull your love for her, nor hers for you. 

Ona has changed her mind about Manchester and is forcing herself to like it. It works enough for a visit from you to be the last thing on her mind, and so she slows her response time down until the next arranged date to see each other in person is all set for the summer before the Euros in England.

You’re not quite home but you are in the country, and, with the pre-Euros camp in two days, Ona is spending the final few hours of calm left before the storm in the comforting presence of her mum and dad. 

And… you, apparently. 

“You weren’t supposed to be here yet,” is Ona’s greeting when she opens the front door. 

Your smile is wide and genuine, and you are holding a gift bag in one hand. There is a nice bottle of wine in the other. “Not even an ‘hola’?” When no reply comes, you swallow the emotions that have arisen; the ones that are maybe, just a little bit to do with how soft Ona looks with her hair down. And the slope of her jaw. And the ghosts of defined biceps that bulge even when she isn’t flexing her arms. “I’m dropping by to see your parents. I thought you were in Barcelona with your footballer friends.” 

“You visit my parents?” asks Ona curiously. 

“Of course.” 

With that, you side-step her and call out to her mother, announcing both your arrival and your desire to hand them their gifts. Dinner is just about to be served, and Ona is soon tasked with setting another place at the table for you as though the last ten years had never happened and your friendship hadn’t lost its innocence. 

Maybe it would be better for Ona to not know what it feels like to kiss you, to touch you, to – dare she think it – love you. It would certainly make things less painful, and would have saved her from catching at least one illness and spending a good amount of money on Ubers to escape from random apartments. It would make it easier to listen to you talk about your life in Milan, where you seem to exist in a bubble of incredibly attractive people who are desperate to hold hands and form a raft. 

“Modelling can be brutal,” you agree, nodding at Ona’s father as you follow on from his concerns about your career. He voices them regularly; whenever you see him. Ona realises you have spent a lot of time with her parents without her. “It gets quite competitive between the girls so I’ve been somewhat avoiding them. They’ve brought in someone new, scouted from Germany, I think, and I’m a little worried that I’ll have to switch agencies if they start prioritising her.” You glance at Ona, wanting to know if she is listening, hoping she is. You wish that she were as good at suppressing her feelings as you are. You wish she didn’t look at you like you hung the moon, because you know that you have to tell her you have hung it for someone else. “I’d move tomorrow, to be honest, but I’ve started seeing this guy and he’s convincing me to stay in Milan.” 

“The minute he is your boyfriend, you bring him here,” commands Ona’s mother in a tone she hasn’t yet used on her actual daughter (said daughter has never mentioned anyone before). “Show us a picture of him! Is he a model like you?” 

He is, and if Ona holds her fork tighter after she sees the photo you pull up, that is her business. You secretly take in her clenched jaw and furrowed eyebrows, and this might be the worst thing you have ever had to do. To see her so defeated, so hopeless, is upsetting, especially since you are harbouring the same feelings. However, you are able to admit when it is time to throw the towel in, and you can no longer live like this. 

Ona is too perfect for you. She is driven, hard-working, and funny. She likes to nutmeg little children on the street, and she likes to buy them an ice-cream if they slip a goal past her, slotting the flat footballs into imaginary nets and celebrating as though they have just won the Champions League. She knows a lot, more than she thinks she does. She cares about people, but sometimes it manifests in anger, in frustration. 

Any aspect of her is an aspect that you could love, and that is reason enough not to. Because how can you allow yourself to taint such perfection? 

But, in this unspoken rejection, the compliment is obscured from the recipient’s view. All Ona sees when you gush about how he buys you flowers and takes you out to dinner, is a burning, bright question. It flashes red and yellow, both as a warning and cry for attention. How can she compete if you don’t even recognise her as a competitor? 

…

“--And then they proceeded to finish a film they were halfway through as if it were the most normal thing ever,” Ona rants the minute she hits the concrete of Las Rozas, walking into the facility with Aitana and the other girls who travelled with her from Barcelona. Only the midfielder has been gracious enough to listen to the entire monologue, but the others joke that that is because Ona’s emotional state has led her to spiral in her native language. It is forbidden for them to openly speak Catalan in the Spanish camp, according to Jorge Vilda, who loves to hurl a ‘we can send you back to where you came from in an instant’ their way if he so much as hears a ‘bon dia’. Naturally, Aitana doesn’t give a fuck about the rule, although Ona chooses to believe that she is listening because she cares.

“Are you done?” Aitana asks thoughtfully, sucking on her bottom lip as she tries to absorb her friend’s crisis and formulate a valid, sensible response. The two have known each other for a while now, and Aitana remembers a time when Ona was relentlessly teased by their older teammates for being in love with her best friend. It is clear to her that those feelings never ceased, though she has heard through the grapevine (Leila Ouahabi) that you are now a model and you live somewhere in Italy. You’re part Italian, is what Leila also claims, having professed your ethnicity to a small huddle of fellow gossipers one day in the gym at the Barça training facility. 

“No! Nothing is ever done with her. It’s viscous and it continues in a horrid cycle that has me flapping around in circles like some idiot. I am one of her boys.” Ona groans dramatically, the sound perhaps a little too loud. A few of the girls in front of them turn around to see why a cat seems to have been strangled, but they quickly lose interest when they see it is just Ona and her disastrous situation. “Do you know how fucking humiliating it is to be one of her guys? I am a professional footballer! I play for Manchester United, one of the most historic clubs in the world, and I am about to represent my country in a major tournament. I am successful, Aita, and yet I am still not enough for her.” 

“Maybe she only likes men.” 

“A man has never made her scream like I have,” she bites back. Aitana blushes, but Ona is too far gone in her rage to hear her crudeness nor preserve her friend’s sanity. “She’s been like this since she decided she was gay! Isn’t that hilarious? ‘Ona, I think I’m gay’, she said. I know lesbian breakups can be hard, but there is no way my cousin fucked her up to this extent.” 

“I can’t help you with this, Oni,” Aitana laments, sorry to have to confess this to her friend. “I think you need to talk to her about it. A proper conversation to fix long-term issues, not like the ones you obviously had when agreeing to stop having sex and things like that. Only she knows what she’s thinking.” It is definitely not the advice Ona wants to hear, but she cannot deny the midfielder’s wisdom. “But for now, we focus on winning.” 

…

You are more than a little confused. 

To start from the beginning, Ona’s cousin fucked you up. She broke your heart, and that first impression of dating girls was incredibly traumatising. With girls, you don’t just kiss and sleep with them, you get close – really close – and then when you break up, it is like you have lost both a girlfriend and a best friend. 

Men are a lot simpler. Men like you and they aren’t shy about it. They can sometimes be just as cruel, but you have never felt invested enough to care too much. 

Some nights, you don’t fall asleep, tossing and turning between your sexual identity, aware that you don’t need to label it but desperate to… discover yourself. If you don’t understand that part of you, how will someone else? How can you be loved? How do you even know who you want to love you? 

For as much as Milan is great, it definitely doesn’t help you with your crisis. Girls in Milan like to do what they want. It is not uncommon for the models to kiss each other in clubs, in front of appreciative male gazes or not, and then reveal their engagement to their future husband the very next day. It’s easy to be drawn into such a bubble, but the minute you step out of it, you are hit with the real world. 

It’s what makes the pandemic so distressing for you personally, because you are forced to live like normal people for some time. Your eyes are held open and the question is shoved down your throat, and it really doesn’t help that Ona’s cousin never moved out of Vilassar de Mar. 

She sees you one day, saying hello from a suitable distance as you pick up milk as per your mother’s request. “I heard you’re modelling?” she asks with no agenda, no seductive glint in her eye. You notice the ring on her finger, and she feels the heaviness of your staring. “Oh, I got married a year ago. Did Ona not tell you?” 

You realise that you and Ona try to avoid talking about anything other than the love interests you have. “No, she didn’t. Congratulations, though. She’s a lucky woman.” 

“You don’t have to pretend you’re happy for me,” laughs the woman opposite you, amused and somewhat apologetic. “Look, I’m really sorry for how I acted when we were younger. I was definitely not the most mature person out there, and I know I hurt you.” 

“I cried for months.” 

“I’m sorry,” she repeats. You suck in a deep breath, trying to hold the memories of your pain at bay. “The first breakup is usually the worst but at least it gets better, as you probably know.” 

She looks at you expectantly, awaiting your confirmation. It never comes. 

“I haven’t dated another girl since,” you tell her, sounding rather detached from yourself. 

Her eyebrows furrow and she is clearly frowning behind her facemask. “What about Ona? I thought you were together when you lived in Madrid. It takes more than a friendship to do what you did.” 

You were originally going to go to university in England. It was your dream, and Ona wasn’t entirely aware of the situation because you hadn’t wanted to tell her you were leaving. Then she was sent out on a professional contract to Madrid, and it wasn’t like you were the only one leaving. 

Ona’s cousin, years ago, had suggested that you go to Madrid if you wanted to get away from Vilassar de Mar. “You’ll be close enough to come home when you’d like, but not so close that you’ll feel as though nothing has changed,” she had said. 

No one had known about your offers in England aside from your parents. And Ona’s cousin, who’d only found out because you had called her, drunk on celebratory champagne, because you had to tell someone. 

“You gave up a dream for her because you didn’t want her to be alone.” 

“I moved to Milan. In the end, she was alone.” 

“You sound like you regret it,” she replies, nodding once at you to bid you farewell and then heading over to a woman who is standing with a puppy in her arms. You watch as she pulls down her mask and kisses her wife, her eyes shining with love and happiness, and your blood runs green with jealousy. 

You hate Ona’s cousin for devastating you once more. 

Do you regret it? 

It’s unclear. 

You try to make sense of it when you don’t hesitate to fly back to Italy the minute you can, going home to lick your wounds at Ona’s non-committal response to meeting you when you are in London the next month. It hurts that she is no longer at your beck-and-call, but you are somewhat happy for her. You know that lines have been crossed and that she has suffered for it. You know that you are probably the one at fault here. 

This time in Milan, you don’t fight it as much. You kiss other girls and let them go home to their boyfriends; you submit to the thing you had convinced yourself you would never become. 

As you drive yourself deeper and deeper into your stereotype, the thought of Ona gets pushed away and newer, more culturally-acceptable fantasies come to mind.

It takes a photoshoot for him to ask you out on a date. 

It takes returning home and gaining the approval of Ona’s parents (who are far more open than your own) for you to agree to be official. 

You don’t ask Ona what she thinks. She’s busy, you reason, because she is representing Spain at the Euros. She won’t care who you are dating and she certainly doesn’t need it rubbed in her face. 

There are many reasons why you go out with him. 

One is that you do like him; he’s nice, he’s funny, he treats you well. (He’s not Ona.) Another is that rent is going up and him sharing the load is helpful. (He’s not Ona.) There is also that he is very popular within the agency, and your chemistry on camera is enough to keep your jobs rolling in and casting directors satisfied. 

He’s not Ona. You know that. 

That's the whole point. 

If he were Ona, you’d be deeply in love with him. If he were Ona, you would never leave the house, never leave his embrace, never leave the little bubble created when it is just the two of you and no one else. If he were Ona, you would be excited about the conversations he gently guides you into; marriage, children, where you are going to live one day. You’d miss him more when he isn’t here. You’d care. 

But you just… don’t. 

Another year passes, more Ona-less than the last, and then she is suddenly coming back home to Barcelona, a medal around her neck and word of a relationship floating above her head. 

You could ask her about it if you wanted to because she is still one of your closest friends, but the truth is, you really, desperately don’t want to hear it. While Ona has been falling in love with someone else, you have been proving your stupid feelings to yourself. 

The act (your current relationship) lowers enough for you to go home for Christmas. You leave Milan as though fleeing from a hurricane, and you refuse to control the damage until you have entered the new year. Your parents aren’t entirely sure they want you moping about the house, confused how someone so successful can revert to a moody teenager the minute they are back in safe territory, and they heavily encourage you to accept an invite that was extended out to you a few months ago. 

Your friends are going skiing in Andorra, and they’d like for you to come with them. 

“Ona won’t be there,” one of them regretfully informs you. “She said she doesn’t want to make things weird. She has a girlfriend – or, I don’t know, a talking stage. She wants you to have fun.” 

“But Ona and I are friends,” you try to explain, feeling exposed by the look of pity she gives you; the same look someone receives when they find out their ex has gotten married or something similar. As a defensive mechanism, you hastily pull out your phone and dial her number. Everyone watches you, now uninterested in their food as you dine and plan your holiday. 

Ona picks up on the third ring, escaping her dinner with Lucy and rushing into the cool, nighttime air of Barcelona. 

“Hi?” she says – asks – with raised eyebrows, wondering if you’re in danger. 

“You’re coming skiing with us, aren’t you?” 

Your friends hide their laughs behind their hands, surprised by how firm your tone is. You do not need it for Ona, because she does anything you say regardless, but they enjoy seeing this side of you. This is someone who has had to fend for herself in a foreign country. 

Removing the phone from her ear for a moment, Ona sighs, disappointed in herself. 

“Yeah, of course. I’ve missed you, you know.” 

…

Skiing is not something Ona is really allowed to do. As a footballer, her legs are what pay her wage. Career-destroying planks of metal are not the best way to spend the dying embers of the year. She knows that. She does, she swears, but she is so eager to go that Jonatan cannot crush her dreams. He tells her, “if you get injured your contract will be reviewed, Ona Batlle,” and she promises him that it won’t happen. Nothing bad is going to happen. 

It will be the first time she has spent more than a day with her childhood friends, and she is unbelievably excited. 

Lucy finds it adorable and makes it known, helping her pack for her trip, versed in what to bring because her sister skis or something like that (Ona can’t really focus on her almost-girlfriend's monologue). Lucy likes Ona a lot, and it makes her stomach flutter when she thinks about Ona and her friends talking about them. She’s sure her feelings are reciprocated, and she cannot wait for Ona to return to her in the new year, all smiles and lingering hangovers, and ask her to be her girlfriend. Officially. 

Your friends convene in the centre of Vilassar de Mar with two cars between you. There are ten people coming. 

Someone, most-likely trying to keep the peace, instructs Ona into one vehicle and you into the other. The drive isn’t too long, but you suppose that the tension is uncomfortable for those who aren’t accustomed to maintaining a friendship despite the weight of it. 

It’s five days, and you are determined to have fun. 

Ona is naturally good at this, although she claims it is her first time. You, living in Milan, are just as advanced. 

By the third day, the both of you agree that going off together to do some of the harder runs will be harmless. Spending the day together won’t feel like a date or a romantic holiday. Watching Ona glide over the compacted snow won’t be attractive, watching her cocky smirk as she scales the bumps along the side of the piste won’t do anything. 

It won’t. (It does.) 

And it just has to be the third day that someone pulls out two bottles of tequila and a drinking game that is going to ensure every single one of you is off your face by midnight. 

In rooms opposite one another, you and Ona call your respective partners and tell them about how great a time you are having, actively avoiding telling them about who you spent the day with as though it counts as cheating. It doesn’t, technically. Nothing has happened. But, still, it feels intimate and secret; forbidden. 

Then, there is a shout that rings through the house. Everyone comes to the table; the party has begun. 

Ona finds out that she is absolutely terrible at drinking games, and loses in every way possible. 

You find out that she is still just as touchy when she is drunk. 

Your friends try not to comment on it, all having agreed upon yet another passive role in such an irritating situation. Their non-interference almost ceases by the time Ona climbs onto your lap, head turning as she whispers something into your drunk ears, making you laugh privately. In fact, someone has to hold someone else back before they shout at the two of you to make out or break up. 

But it’s not really necessary, their prompting, because it hits a certain hour and… nothing else matters anymore. 

Ona has been touching you the whole night and you have finally reached your limit. 

Boyfriend be damned, you lead her to your bedroom. 

She asks you many times if you still want this, and you cannot think of anything to say other than ‘yes’. 

You’re not as drunk as she is, and you both know that, but everything feels so perfect and right. 

When you wake up the next morning, your anger is more at yourself than the sleeping woman beside you, but she is an outward target for such a boiling emotion and it just makes things easier. 

“Ona.” You shake her awake, not caring for her hangover. “Ona, I can’t believe we’ve done this.” She rubs her eyes, dazed and confused for a moment but coming to her senses soon enough. “I have a boyfriend, Ona, and… I don’t like you like that.” 

It’s not true. 

It’s really, really, really not true, but the fact that you have said it is enough for Ona to leave your room with the intention of never seeing you again. 

She gets the train back to Barcelona, turning up at Lucy’s flat in floods of tears, and barrels straight into those strong arms with the intention of never mentioning what she has done. 

…

You break up with your boyfriend a month later. Or rather, he breaks up with you, tired of being messed around, tired of your hesitation to fully commit. 

The break-up is not the most upsetting thing you’ve been through, but your ego is a little bruised.

You try to make it look like you are having a great time in Milan, even though the agency has once again discarded your file and overlooked you for shoots you used to book in an instant. You try to seem like things aren’t falling apart, but it’s of no use when your father calls you and tells you that your mother is ill. 

It isn’t cancer but it’s similar, and you know that you need to come home.

You pack your bags and leave without a second thought, because maybe Madrid was far enough. Maybe there is a reason Ona signed for her home club again and most of your friends still live relatively close to their parents. 

Maybe you are not meant to be separated from those you love, because running away is futile if you are always going to end up together again. 

In Barcelona, a modelling agency eagerly draws up a contract with you. Although you are from there, your career being based in Milan previously creates an international allure about you (or so they say), and you are assured that work is going to rush towards you as though someone has just knocked down a dam. 

Your job is secured, your mother begins treatment, but there is something you cannot shake off. 

It hurts to think of Ona, to think of how you left things, but it helps, too. Seeing her face in your mind is comforting. You hear her voice as you drift off to sleep, and you let it soothe you in your dreams. 

“Ona has a girlfriend,” her mother tells you when you next visit them. Her frown is unexpected because all she has ever wanted is for her children to be happy and loved. “It’s not right, it doesn’t feel right.” You begin to shrug your shoulders and crawl into your shell, but she interrupts your thought process; “I think you should go see her.” 

“Why?” 

The woman rolls her eyes. “Just do what I say.” 

You nod because she is so scarily sure about it, and you… It’s hard to believe, but you call Ona. 

She picks up. 

“I was sorry to hear about your mum.” 

“Don’t worry. She’s fine.” 

“Are you back at home?” 

“Yeah, I am.” You pause. “Well, not quite. I’m living in Barcelona.” 

Something fizzes in the air; pops, crackles. 

“Need me to show you around the city?” 

And it’s Ona, so how could you say no? 

…

Your visit goes very well. 

She takes you out to dinner and shows you around her neighbourhood. She introduces you when she runs into people she knows, and she is insistent about dragging you to her football match on the weekend. 

Everything is seemingly forgiven and Ona is intent on integrating you back into her life. 

She wants you to feel at home, though she knows you should already, and she wants to lessen the stress of hospital appointments and death and, if not death, then a difficult recovery. 

You are sitting in her apartment – now devoid of all signs of Lucy – on her comfortable sofa, watching something together after a day of walking around and sealing up the cracks that formed in Andorra.

Sitting leads into cuddling and then into wandering hands that eagerly roam underneath layers of fabric.   

Ona’s breath hitches as you brush the hard lines of her abs, your hands particularly drawn to them and just how strong she has become. “You must have only felt them on men,” she offers as an explanation. “How many have you slept with in comparison to–?”

And your hands stop.

“Sorry,” Ona mumbles, seemingly upset at her outburst. “I’m just curious. I can’t work you out.” She can’t quite look you in the eye, mainly due to the logistics of your position, but she isn’t sure she wants to see the truth attached to her statement. 

You question if that’s a good thing, the fact she needs to ask; the fact that she has no choice but to communicate. It was going to happen sooner or later. “A few,” is what you settle on. Ona leaves it at that, carefully pulling the hair tie from your plait, unravelling it with one hand as the other rests against your stomach in an embrace. You smile. “You’re not going to ask who?” 

Her fingers stop for a moment. “No.” She speaks so quietly, her voice almost a whisper in your ear. “I don’t care about them.” You relax into her more, feeling her against your back, feeling the softness of the blanket against your feet as it hangs at the edge of the sofa. 

“Who do you care about, then?” 

“You.” 

Carefully, both her hands hold your hips and she sits you up, smiling as she does. You tell her she’s showing off, she replies that you are always showing off. To that, you brush those hands from your sides and lean down to kiss her, more decidedly for once; more in control. It’s a surprising feeling for both of you, the forcefulness. Urgency. Not unfamiliar, but unexpected for this time on this day. 

The last time you kissed Ona, you had a boyfriend. 

Your mouth goes to her neck as soon as she decides that she wants her hands back on your hips, pushing you down into her lap. It’s now a competition, you think. She’s quickly coming completely undone by your kissing and biting, but you are not ignoring the feeling as she makes you grind down, makes you need that friction. “Fuck,” you moan in her ear. She grips you tighter. 

You start to pull off her shirt having had enough of the grey between you, asking if it’s okay, if she’s sure she isn’t too tired. Her reply is, “take it off, god,” and then the removal of your clothes that get thrown just shy of the wine glasses set out on her coffee table. Leggings aren’t the most practical for impromptu sex, but she’s quick and smooth and someone who has definitely done that before. 

With your bare chest on display and almost nothing between Ona and you, she lifts you up for a moment with the intention of flipping the two of you, getting you on your back. You pause for a moment, trying to decide if she’s doing it because she wants to or because she thinks that’s the only way to do it, but her hands are moving now, up your sides, round the front of your chest and you relax. She laughs quietly, amused, because the tension dissipates, dissolving like sweet, sweet sugar in hot coffee as soon as your legs wrap around her back. 

Ona asks before she does it, picking you up and laying you back down without needing to part her lips from your own. You watch her as she sits up, body in between your thighs. “You’re going to just stay there?” She shakes her head. “I can top,” you tease, a stark contrast from how it was the last time you did this. Ona doesn’t like being told she can’t do something. However indirectly. 

“Yeah?” You nod, biting the smirk out of your lips. “I don’t care.” 

You are in the process of rolling your eyes when her cocky mouth is put to good use. Your underwear was taken off at some point earlier — you hadn’t realised. Ona’s head moves between your legs, up and down, your hand that isn’t holding onto the sofa in her hair, the soft waves lacing between your fingers. 

She’s good at it; thorough, practised. Her tongue circles your clit for a moment before dipping into your entrance. Something about the cockiness of her movements, her tongue, her hand rubbing between her own legs, makes everything more surreal, more blissful. She moans softly, lips kissing their way up your body, hands no longer focused on herself. Instead, they take the place of her mouth, two fingers inside you as quickly as it takes for her to ask if you are okay to carry on. Your reply (“yes”) is cut off quickly by her mouth on yours, tongue swiping at your bottom lip in another question of permission. You can taste yourself on her. 

At her command, you sit up, letting her pull you back onto her lap as she sucks at your neck. “Don’t leave any marks,” you warn as her teeth pull a whimper from your supposed stoicness. “I don’t want the makeup artists asking questions.” It comes out too late, because you feel her teeth graze your collarbone quickly, not painful, no, but something that feels so, so good. “Ona.” She sighs in disappointment and adjusts where you are in her lap, so your legs are either side of her thigh. 

You find yourself rocking slowly, letting her savour your breasts between her hands and her mouth. She whispers that she wants to see you come, that you don’t need to hold back – not with her, not ever – so you start grinding down, harder, faster. Her hands drop back to your hips, guiding your movements, forcing you to slow down when she feels everything building up. Each time, you let out a “fuck” and attempt to go against her grip to get that friction. “Not just yet,” she mutters, no longer touching you anywhere other than where her hands meet your hips and her thigh presses between your legs. 

“Fuck off, Ona,” you breathe, frustrated. “When, then?” 

She slows the pace even more. “Can you last a little longer?” You look at her face, brushing away the strands of hair that have fallen over her eyes, ghosting your fingers along her cheek, running your thumb along her lips. She smiles again, eyes creasing slightly. 

As her hands drop to cup your face, you say, “you’re beautiful.” 

Ona blushes. 

You look down at her exposed cleavage, nipples pebbled against the sports bra that is unusually low-cut. It might border on intense staring as you begin to grind against her with the intention of actually getting off now. She laughs, saying her eyes are higher up than that, but going back to her trail of kisses along your jaw nevertheless. 

For what seems like longer than a few seconds, the build up finally stops, the tower toppling over in a rush of pleasure. Ona’s hands move your hips as your head drops to rest on her shoulder. She talks you through it, telling you that you look so pretty, telling you that she’s so turned on. 

And that’s when she whispers it. 

It has taken years to get to this moment, many of them filled with unnecessary suffering. 

It has taken years but it does not matter. 

Ona tells you that she loves you and that is when you have finally come home. 

#woso x reader #woso #randombush3 #barca femeni #woso imagines #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle #ona batlle smut

[filmbyjy]

COLLIE DUTY

SYNOPSIS > being the new CEO to the ‘Sim Corp’ was hard and stressful. jake didn’t have much time to spend with layla and so he decides to get a dogsitter, you. though, you were originally already his secretary. how will dog sitting bring you two closer?

THIRTY-SIX – intimate yet seductive smell

you had entered the building, exaggerating your walk a little to make your curves stand out more. multiple men that worked in the office stared at you, their jaws dropping instantly.

just as you arrived at the office floor you worked at, someone grabs your waist. you knew exactly who it was. that cologne. that intimate yet seductive smell.

“Mr.Sim.”

“yes?”

“what are you doing.”

“there were a bunch of people who were staring at you-”

“I know but you aren’t my boyfriend so why should you care?” you had fired back. jake sighs.

“I know. I know I messed up, I shouldn’t be acting this way. Acting like some possessive guy when I already hurt you a bunch of times.”

“that’s great that you realise that. now, if you could excuse me sir. I have some work to do, being your secretary doesn’t mean I can just slack off. I still have a bunch of paperwork to attend to.” you say before pushing jake’s hand that was still around your waist.

your heels clacking as you had walked over to your desk. jay decides to walk over.

“ah, it’s nice to see jake all fired up in the morning. want coffee?”

“tea would be great.” you told jay.

“alright, I’ll come back in a bit.” he winks at you before leaving to the pantry area.

jake wanted to say something to you but he just decides to look down in shame and walk over to his office. a few hours flew by, everyone went to have lunch. just as you stood up ready to visit the staff cafeteria in the building, a familiar pair of arm wraps around waist.

“I miss you.” was all he says. his voice sounding fragile and almost broken. you could tell he was holding back some tears but you knew you had to stand your ground and make jake suffer a little (or possibly more).

you pushed his hand away and untangled yourself from him. “I’m sorry, sir. I have to leave, I am quite famished so whatever business you have can delayed after lunch. besides, this is still personal business so after work would work better.”

the flash of hurt on jake’s face didn’t go unnoticed. however, he understood why you were acting this way.

“sorry.” jake mutters in a defeated and sad tone. just like a puppy sulking.

and this went on for the whole week, even another 3 weeks later. jake would try to talk to you but you would reject his apologies and any form of him wanting to talk to you. you could tell he was cracking. it was starting to affect his work too. which was not good. he wasn’t listening much to the meetings that the fashion department had organised and he would leave in the middle of it. it caused some of the employees to think their work wasn’t good and had to be improved on.

in reality, jake was just distracted. his feelings were all over the place. he just simply didn't know how to act. this was the first time he really had to do something or else he'd lose the girl he really likes. sure, audrey was his first love and he lost her but he couldn't really fight his dad's orders so he had to stay in Seoul or else, this whole thing wouldn't even happen in the first place.

and since jake has now stood up to his dad, he finally has the freedom to do what he once would've done for audrey. to fight for his love for you instead. however, how was he going to do so when he had zero clue on what to do other than let you give him the silent treatment. jake knew it was easy to just use the money he had worked on but spending heaps of money for you was not a way to truly show his feelings to you.

"still nothing?" sunghoon says as he practically manspreads on the couch in the lounge area. ningning kicks his knees, the male could only wince at the pain.

"sit properly you fuck." ningning barks.

"why are you even here?" sunghoon bites back.

"(name) is my best friend, why are you here?"

"for moral support and my friend is an idiot."

"well-"

"you two should get a room and go fuck." jungwon rolls his eyes.

"oh? new ship? ningning noona and sunghoon hyung. ninghoon. sungning." ni-ki adds. sunghoon throws the pillow and it hits ni-ki right on his face.

"where is jay?" sunghoon says after he does a small celebration for successfully hitting ni-ki right in the face with the pillow.

"probably making out with some employee-"

jay walks in with jake. he had pinched the boy's poor ears while walking in. jake could only accept in and walk in the room in defeat.

"brought this fucker here. now, speak. tell the others, specifically (name) what you wanted to say."

jake looks around the room. he could tell the tension was definitely a little tense. heeseung and hyunjin had cracked their knuckles in case. felix, san and hongjoong were ready to hold them back but they were also watching jake warily. one wrong move and he would be beaten up like a tenderized beef.

"umm." jake starts off. his eyes met with yours. then he did something he could only think of. he got on his knees. everyone was in shock even you.

"(name), i-i know this isn't exactly how our relationship or umm whole umm."

"spit it out." sunghoon says. jake sends sunghoon a small glare.

"ever since the start. meeting you when you crashed into me and spilt coffee on me and then seeing you during the interview. working with you for 4-5 years. i was harsh to you during those early days, hell even year. i am just a grumpy, young CEO who doesn't know how to control his emotions. I never knew how to control myself. I just shut myself out and block any form of feelings when it comes to working with girls.”

“but then…those feelings I never knew I had for you started blooming quickly and I was terrified. I wanted to stop myself, what if…I would get hurt again like how I did with Audrey. I didn’t want to go through it again. But then Layla…she loved you instantly, it warmed my heart. she accepted you when she’s never easily warmed up to people. I knew there was something.”

jake steps forward and carefully reaches out to cup one of your cheeks, his hands were shaking. “so, (name). I know I’m not the best guy. I hurt you twice by pushing you away and being a jerk. no words can ever express how sorry I am.”

when you don’t say a single word, jake was about get down on his knees, you gasp and held his hand.

“wait, don’t get on your knees. please.”

“but I did so much bad-”

“I forgive you.” you finally say.

dead silence.

“WHERE IS THE GIRLBOSS MOMENT??” Sunghoon yells.

you would’ve answered but with jake’s lips against yours, you couldn’t. the way his hands gently held onto your waist. it causes goosebumps against your skin, it felt good. really good.

“woah woah.” heeseung pulls jake away from you. it almost look like he was holding a kitten by the nape of its neck. “this is supposed to go on for more episodes, why cave in easily.”

“because they’re stupidly in love and I hate it here.” hyunjin says.

“they’re made for each other, how cute.” sunghoon sarcastically says.

heeseung drops jake’s collar and sighs. “you better not hurt my best friend again or I will plot a manhunt on you. it will involve the FBI and other authorities.”

jake nods quickly. clearly, judging by heeseung’s tone. he was not joking around so jake didn’t want to mess with him.

“so…is this finally end of war?” sunoo asks.

both you and jake looked at each other and then back at the others before nodding.

“YAY!! WAR IS OVER!! I can finally go back to working normally around you two.” ni-ki jumps.

“what do you mean?” you asked as your head titled.

“have you never noticed? 4 years working with you guys and you’ve never noticed the sexual tension?” ni-ki says.

“uh…”

“damn, you two are fucking oblivious as fuck.”

just as you opened your mouth, you felt jake’s hand (that was on your waist) squeeze your sides. it shuts you up real quick. you turned to meet his gaze and you swore, someone or something was under that gaze cause jake was definitely not there.

“they’re eye fucking each other in front of us.” hyunjin yells as that was the last thing you heard before you were completely focused on the man right beside you.

no thoughts…just sim jaeyun, your boss

and now…your boyfriend.

-

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

a/n: ewww it’s disgusting how long I took to write this💀 my brain went holiday mode guys🤚🏻 so sorry, but I’m back more than ever and I am scheduling more chapters. who knows, I might have them queued🤫🤫

taglist[closed]: @svarcq @wooonkies @ajayke-reads @peachysunooooo @xiaoderrrr @viagumi @lunakua @bubblytaetae @aureliaxuuu @nikiluvr16 @sngvhs @watermelon-sugars-things @bldelaine @enhaz1 @yeoungie @heart4hees @mimimovv @enczen @enhastolemyheart @woon2u @kyanmeai @4townn @skzenhalove @s00buwu @ce1ight @markleepooh @sparklingsjy @rizzshimura @bluxjun @beomgyusonlywife @jyndre @blamemef0rit @fanfangying1304 @kwiwin @heart4hees @luxurystark-jackson @yunjardi @ioszzn @mrowwww @bluriki @25dejulho @neoculturewhat @wtfhyuck @dianzed @143lele @ajybeo @teddywonss @nyfwyeonjun @alwayswook @shinrjj @manooffline @heavenhannie @bmnyy17 @jayujus

(bolded can’t be tagged)

#COLLIE DUTY #COLLIE DUTY smau #enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen imagine #enhypen angst #enhypen smau #enhypen fluff #jake #jake imagines #jake imagine #jake angst #jake smau #jake fluff #jaeyun #jaeyun imagines #jaeyun imagine #jaeyun angst #jaeyun smau #jaeyun fluff #sim jaeyun #sim jaeyun imagines #sim jaeyun imagine #sim jaeyun angst #sim jaeyun smau #sim jaeyun fluff #kpop #kpop smau #smau

[queenie-avenue]

I love the ceo/Adrian but can you do one of a yandere reader like you did for academic rival.

Pretty please 🥺

A Gentleman's Confrontation.

💌 ⤻ THE CEO, ADRIAN HOUDE

—> you're a creep, he's obsessed; a matchmade in hell!

⤻ reader is gender neutral, possessive thoughts, obsessive thoughts, crimes against the reader, invasion of privacy, typical yandere behaviour, filming without consent

notes: all ya'll are little creeps but i love all of you. thank you for saying please, anon. mwah!

🦋 ⤻ archives.

You had been obsessed with Adrian Houde since the moment you heard him compliment your name. Your heart practically swelled each time he came to check in on the fashion department, always managing to catch his eye and smiling at him shyly. You even went into his office a few times — unaware he was the one who personally requested you — to present the pitches for fashion shows and the budget needed for your department despite it being out of your pay grade.

You did it all so you could see his face.

So you could look into those hypnotising hooded blue eyes of his, so cold you could almost die from hypothermia when you stare at them.

Still, you always stared.

It started off as a little crush. You finding him attractive — who didn't, really — and unconsciously drawing him in your many sketches as a model.

Then, it turned a little crazy.

You started nabbing a few things each time you went into his office. A pen, a tie he abandoned on the chair, a crumpled buck that you saw him touch. It was all yours for the taking.

Still, you kept a distance from Adrian, ensuring he would never take things too personally. After all, he was the most eligible bachelor perhaps in the whole world, and you were just some low-level intern who didn't even get paid well enough to be in his tax bracket. So while you were delusional, you kept that side of you to yourself.

Till you were caught, of course.

✧ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ✧

Adrian's blue eyes pierced into yours as both of his hands pinned you against the wall. His blonde hair tousled, framing his face perfectly. If not for the tense situation, you would have thought whether he had a hairstylist that did all this work for him or whether he was just that good.

“I've been watching.” His voice, clear as his icy gaze, spoke out. “Did you know there's a camera in this office?” He refrained from telling you about the cameras he planted at your desk.

“Oh.” Was the only thing you could say as your eyes went down to his lips, guilty of lusting for him, even now.

“I could get you fired for this.” He whispered, pursing his perfect lips as he leaned closer to you, head going down to your neck, to savour the taste of your scent. His nose grazing against your neck as you groaned. “Just what were you thinking?” He whispered, hot breath hitting your neck as he gazed at you. “It's like you're giving me permission to…” He didn't dare finish his sentence as you stayed there, pinned against the wall.

Knowing that you were just like him, that you liked to rummage through his things like he did to your desk when night fell; were you trying to kill him? He was a gentleman, he was taught to always be a good man to anyone he was romantically interested in, to be cordial and kind but you doing that just made him want to lock you up. You doing that was like you giving subtle confirmation you wanted him too, no? “I'm trying to be good for you.” He breathed out, one of his arms going down to your waist.

His eyes met yours and you swore you saw tears in his eyes. “I really like you, [y/n].” He confessed suddenly, causing your eyes to widen.

Of all the people you would have thought would have a crush on you in the office, it was the head honcho himself. The one you stole things from, the one who stole your heart.

“Those things you did, the things I saw in my camera… does that prove you like me too?” He felt himself cringe at his words, feeling like a high school student confessing to his crush. “Please tell me that's a yes, I've been waiting so long just to- just to-” Just him speaking was enough to drive your breath away. He was breathing heavily too, like being in your presence banished all thoughts of oxygen away from his mind; his brain focusing on you and only you, prioritising you over oxygen.

“You have to say yes.” It was like in that brief moment, the gentleman you had always know Adrian Houde to be suddenly disappeared, his warm blue eyes filled with frightening obsession.

“Say yes. Please. I won’t let you out of this office till you say yes.” Well, that certainly tempted you to not say anything. Being able to be trapped between his arms was like a dream come true, but you also desperately wanted him to be aware of your feelings.

“Yes. I like you too, I love you.” You stumbled over your words.

“Are you sure that’s what you want to say?” He asked.

You felt a sense of dread travel through your bones at his inquiry, forcing you to rethink your answer. However, your answer was clear as day, he wanted you and you wanted him. “Yes. I’ve been obsessed with you since the moment we met at that office.” You confessed.

Adrian’s eyes widened as he realised that you — his sweet intern, the light of his life — was also the same as him. No, you would never be the same. You would never be as unhinged as he would be for you. You had no idea just how crazy he was for you.

He could list down all the crimes and perverse things he did for you against his own morals.

He had stolen your notebook and scanned it just so he could fixate on your handwriting, he had installed a hidden camera under and on your desk just to see how your body moved, he had investigated every part of you to the point he could recite the measurements of your body from his mind. You would never be as crazy as he was for you, but it felt good to know you thought you were.

“Confirm it again.” He said, his gravelly voice turning cold like the times you had heard him talk during meetings; the perfect businessman. “If you do, I want to let you know that you won’t be able to leave my side. Even if you wanted to.”

You didn’t take his words seriously.

“I’m not playing, sir.” God, he loved it when you called him sir. “I really… do like you.”

He snapped and grabbed your waist and pulled you up, slamming your cute little butt onto his desk. “I hope you won’t regret this.” Adrian whispered as he ran a hand through his golden-blonde hair, another hand reaching for his tie and loosening it in a way that made your mouth water. "Because I'll make sure you fall so deeply in love with me we'll go tumbling to hell."

You didn’t even realise he was so close until it was too late and his lips claimed yours.

The kiss was sloppy and desperate, his tongue overlapping yours in a sensual dance. He licked your lips, you bit his, your tongues explored each other needily. His palm on the back of your head, holding you in place so you could not escape. Slowly, his lips descended down to your neck, hungrily licking and biting as you let out breathy gasps.

“You won’t be able to leave me after this. I need to take responsibility, and you do too.”

#yandere oc #yandere imagines #yandere blog #yandere drabble #yandere male x reader #yandere x reader #anon ask #male yandere x reader #yandere male #ask #yandere fanfiction #male yandere #yandere fic

[queer-ragnelle]

Hi! I hope I do not bother you, but I'd like to ask a thing (if you already answered this in another ask I'm sorry) because you seem to be the most qualified person to answer. In a retelling, when how much is too much changing? I am writing two whole Arthurian fics and while I mostly mix and match from different versions there are some things I fully changed (one of the most egregious, for example, being Palamedes dying early in Post-Vulgate fashion and Safir as the one who slays the Questing Beast and the killing being an expression of vengeance instead of newly-found peace despite this definetely not being the case in the original text). I think what I changed works better for plot reasons but I am a bit uncomfortable with it, especially when it comes to characterization. But on the other hand there are so many different versions that I find it hard to say if I am ruining it or not because even in the canon plots and characters' personalities change a lot but I don't want to do something that ends up being "in name only". When is too much too much?

Hello! I don't know about being the most qualified person to answer, but I can certainly give you my answer! I've explained this a little bit before here and here, but can elaborate again for you, especially because I think those characters and that text in particular should be handled with care.

Before you determine what amount of reinterpretation constitutes the right balance, pause everything, and pinpoint your audience. Are you writing fanfiction for your own self-fulfillment and enjoyment? Maybe also for a handful of friends who share your ideas? In that case, there are no rules, do whatever you want. That's your space, your story, and you bear no responsibility to uphold some unquantifiable standard of characterization "accuracy." Fandom is your sandbox and you can build whatever castle you want! Be free!

The next thing to determine is what characters you're changing and why. Not all changes are created equal! For example, if you wanted to absolve Arthur of the May Day Massacre to write a more honorable King, it's not all that drastic a change. There are many texts, old and new, in which that narrative beat never occurs. If noble Arthur serves your story better than morally gray or evil Arthur, and it can be done without compromising the Arthurian fabric from which you sample, go for it. Alternatively, if you decided to incorporate additional violence into the story, especially if attributed to a character who had not previously done those things (such as rapist Gawain, ie, inverting his Maiden's Knight role he's known for), you're going to have a harder time selling the reader on it. Generally speaking, a positive or neutral change will always be easier to sell than a negative one.

This is especially important if you intend to publish something you write for a broader audience. That's a different matter, in my opinion. In that regard, the thing you create is contributing to an Arthurian body of work that's meant to stand on its own. Fanfiction exists in a writing niche which assumes a base knowledge from the reader, you may not necessarily explain what Camelot is, or what chivalry means, or who Palomides is. That's fine and dandy. It's for fun!

But with a published book standing alone on the shelf, the author is expected to establish the framework of the world their story takes place in. That may or may not align with "canon" and therefore maintain or depart from the expected. This is where your decisions as an author matter. While Arthuriana is anachronistic by design as a literary tradition that's evolved alongside its authors, the moment you decide on an era to write in (if you put a year to it or imply one based on what historical aspects emerge), you now bear responsibility to depict that as accurately as you can. Even if it's a mishmash of "Medieval" spanning a few centuries, it should still bare resemblance to the era. Particularly in our current political climate with constant misinformation and even disinformation spreading, it's important to do the research necessary to create something genuine so as to avoid misrepresenting the past and the people in it. For example I think it would do a disservice to an Arthurian story to ignore religion, particularly one about Palomides or his brother Safir. To write them as areligious is to ignore the role in the Arthurian narrative they were created for. They're Saracen, (even if Palomides converts in some versions), and to ignore the way religion and race interconnect in Medieval society would be disingenuous.

[Idols in the East: The Saracen Body by Suzanne Conklin Akbari]

And, more to your point, that aspect informs character. The stories define Palomides by his religion, by his race, and how that impacts him in the face of a rivalry with Tristan, a white Christian, for the love of Isolde, another white Christian. This isn't to say that you're obligated to depict racism, or to put the characters into situations that oppress and hurt them, but to write something "race blind" is to erase the character's identity, and that would be too great a change, for me personally, to get by.

That being said, if you're writing in 6th century Britain, your research might lead you to think, "Hey wait a minute, Islam doesn't exist yet! But Palomides and Safir are written as Muslims, so how can I stay true to both the era I'm writing in and the characters if that anachronism is built right in?" Well, that's where you have wiggle room to be creative! Perhaps they're Zoroastrians or follow one of the many Berber religions that existed at the time. Even Tristan could reasonably be written Pagan in this era, as he has in many retellings before you sent this ask. Maybe Tristan's Mithraic or Druid or Jewish and that in and of itself helps mitigate some of the tension between the characters as neither are Christian. All of this should be handled with great care, of course, but the point is that there aren't really straight answers about what changes are worth making.

Your discomfort in this isn't unjustified. I've been there. But it doesn't mean you're doing anything "wrong." It's not a crime to conceptualize changes. I had a lot of anxiety writing Ragnelle and her brother Gromer as Zoroastrians. But I went on to find an editor who studied the religion, and asked my Zoroastrian mutual for help, who put me in touch with a practitioner that agreed to beta read my books and inform me on my handling of it. There's no perfect story, but all you can do is give it your best effort.

I don't think it'll benefit you to worry about "ruining" the story with changes such as Safir pursuing the Questing Beast. That sounds awesome! And your plan about vengeance is baked right into the source material, as the Post Vulgate indicates that QB had killed all of Palomides's brothers before he finally defeated her, so your story has some textual basis in a medieval source. (Not that you need it to be "allowed" to write that, but it may help your anxiety to know!)

[Post Vulgate Quest for the Holy Grail: 87. Galahad and Bors Chase the Questing Beast and Meet Palamedes and His Father, Esclabor the Unknown.]

One other thing I'll point out is choosing the language you use matters a lot. You can have some characters behave a certain way toward Palomides or Safir or this "futile" quest that resembles historical prejudice while utilizing word-choice throughout that signals to the reader you, the author, know what you're doing and understand the nuances at play. Reading broadly will help you with this so much. Not just non-fiction for your research, but other Arthurian retellings as well. I personally didn't love Persia Woolley's handling of Palomides in her Guinevere Trilogy. He was referred to as "the Arab" throughout which seemed like a "lesser evil" placeholder for "the Saracen." It's usage acted as a generalized umbrella term to other Palomides and didn't indicate his area of origin beyond constantly reminding the reader that he wasn't white. (Whereas Gawain was "the Orcadian" and Lancelot "the Breton," which differentiated their white cultures from one another while homogenizing Palomides with every other Eastern person in the story as a monoculture.) Furthermore, many characters were afraid of him (I mean literally making the sign of the cross and hiding when he walked in the room), which isn't consistent with a Post-Roman Britain, in which the population would have been mixed. I prefer the handling of Numidian Sagramore in Bernard Cornwell's Warlord Chronicles. Sagramore, as a Black man, is a part of Arthur and co's community, even if the Saxons themselves are unnerved by him. He's respected by the narrative. It's usually better to be specific (Numidian Sagramore versus Arab Palomides) particularly if that character is a minority and the word is leaving the mouth of a white character. This article discusses this aspect at length and really eased my own concerns depicting these characters and doing them justice.

[Saracens and Black Knights by Maghan Keita]

Here's another example of generalized versus specific language.

[Sword of Lancelot 1963: Merlin refers to "the Orient."]

[The Adventures of Sir Lancelot 1956: Merlin refers to "the Iberian Peninsula."]

So in my opinion, as long as you don't white wash Palomides or Safir and avoid writing them as "exotic" or "mysterious" or in some way barbaric in the pursuit of the Questing Beast, you're fine. Even in La Tavola Ritonda, Percival pursues QB for a time before Palomides picks up the quest, which is the opposite order in which that occurs in Post Vulgate where Percival and the other grail knights assist Palomides to defeat her at the very end. Many versions don't maintain the incest-monster aspect of QB from Post Vulgate either, like in Perlesvaus or Moriaen, she's just a monstrous creature and that's sufficient to tell the story the author has in mind. Even from a characterization standpoint, Malory wrote Palomides as volatile and melodramatic, having fits in the woods over his grief from which only Tristan could coax him out of, where in La Tavola Ritonda, Palomides is mostly chill and sweet, to the point Dinadan teases him for being a push-over haha! In regards to Safir, there's far less textual source material to base him off of than Palomides, so you have even more creative freedom! Literally the spectrum is so vast you can pretty much characterize however you desire if you keep in mind what the core of the character is and why that's important to their identity and the historical significance of that identity. (Even if it's something you have to bulk up, such as you will for Safir.) If you're ever unsure, it's never a bad idea to ask! Plenty of historians, or medievalists, Arthurian enthusiasts, or people of different cultures would love to discuss this subject. You might have to dig a little, but I can't imagine it'll be harder than my search for a queer Zoroastrian beta reader willing to read a trilogy-length Wedding retelling haha! It'll benefit your writing to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known so others can give you feedback. Share some passages with a trusted few and gauge their reactions. Read what other people have done and take notes about the way they chose to characterize Palomides or Safir—did [aspect] resonate with you? Or did [aspect] ring false? Exploitative? Hollow? Why? Then step back, take another look, and go from there. It's about vibes and can't be defined, but you'll know when you know.

Hope this helps. Good luck and have a nice day!

#arthurian legend #arthurian legends #arthuriana #arthurian mythology #arthurian literature #palamedes #palomides #sir palamedes #sir palomides #sir safir #the questing beast #questing beast #glatisants #writing #orientalism #racism #history #islamphobia #xenophobia #anti blackness #colorism #ask #anonymous #my post

[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.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

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.”»

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“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.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

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.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

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.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“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.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

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.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

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.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

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.”

#jake kim x reader #jake kim #vin jin #lookism #lookism webtoon #lookism anime #daniel park #mary kim #vasco #burn knuckles #jace park #euntae lee #zack lee #mira kim #zoe park #jason yoon #brad lee #jerry kwon #sinu han #jay hong #johan seong #eugene lookism #yui kim #vin jin x reader #samuel seo #crystal choi #lookism manga #lookism manhwa #kim gimyeong #kim gimyung

[k-dokja]

Vasco!!! what will happen when him and reader finally get together?

Y'all... This is the final Lookism request I will take and I feel like this has come full circle since the first ever Lookism piece I've written is Vasco trying to ask the reader out on last year's August.

Anyway, thanks everyone for the support in the past year \o/ It has been fun!

You want to say Vasco looks younger when he's peaceful and relaxed, but that'd be... lying. To everyone. It's a blatant untruth, too. One doesn't even need to look for too long to see that there is no way possible for Vasco to be a high school student. It's even worse when you look at Burn Knuckles as a whole.

Suddenly, you feel the urge to slap someone around for this situation you are in.

"Vasco..." You call for him with your fingers running through the strands of his hair. It's now cut and styled with an uneven bang. Faintly, this reminds you of Zack Lee from the fashion department in a year lower. "Have you shaved recently?"

He hums, relaxed by your touch alone. It's not often that he gets to lie down on your lap between his training and... whatever it is that his crew gets up to. However, when this does happen, you find that he's nowhere near the intimidating man he poses to be for his crew. It's a bit disorienting. Just a bit.

Nobody can blame you for getting a bit nostalgic about the shy and naive Vasco of... a year ago. Seriously, you cannot figure out what in the world turns him into the current him. None of the Burn Knuckles would be this bad of an influence on him. If anything, you don't think they can even influence him badly at all.

"Uh, yeah," he says, "this morning."

You frown at the scuffle of beard on his cheeks. Maybe he didn't shave them all. The shape looks pretty neat and trimmed. Not that you know much about how beard works, of everything.

"I see..." You do not. "I noticed Burn Knuckles have gotten a wardrobe change lately." You glance at Jace with his ear pierced and hair tied up. When he notices your attention, he sends you a friendly smile, one that you mirror even if it is only on reflex.

You have no problem with him, personally. But his new tattoo and attitude have also been a choice. If anything, you have to wonder if he's the originator of this leather wardrobe the entire crew is in.

"Do you disapprove?" Vasco cracks an eye open, a bit apprehensive. However, you redirect your smile from Jace to him. To reassure him, if anything.

"No, it's..." Well, it is not like you oppose the choice. "New, that's all."

Vasco relaxes at that. Even with his eyes fluttering shut once more, he has yet to grow comfortable like before. "A lot happened recently," he explains, "I'm sorry for not keeping you up-to-date."

"It's fine, it's fine," you say empty words, "long as you boys are having fun and staying safe, I don't think there's any problem."

Vasco stays quiet, but you can see the sweat rolling down his forehead.

"...You are staying safe, yes?"

"Well..."

The remainder of his answer is snuffed into a whisper and overwhelmed by the laughter of other Burn Knuckles chatting. You frown, leaning down closer. "What?"

"It is like this..."

He starts again, but once more, his answer grows quieter with every word. Even without interference from other members, his reply fails to transmit to you with that low volume of his. You sigh, a bit annoyed with this antic of his. It is, how should you say this, irritable.

"This brat," you grumble, pinching his arm, "speak louder."

It is a futile action which proves to be nothing but a warning. With his bicep being this rock-hard, you doubt he experiences any pain physically. However, your displeasure always deals out psyche damage to him, and that is enough for you.

"Ah, noona...." He sputters. The sheepish expression on his face might've worked on a face far younger, but it fails miserably on his mature features. "You didn't have to pinch me."

"Speak louder then," you say, "where is your usual might?"

"Ah, well, you know," he tucks at his collar, "I don't like to get you involved with crew business, it's dangerous enough for Burn Knuckles. If others know you're with me, it might be dangerous for you, too."

"And I respect that decision," you cup his face in your hand and squeeze, "that doesn't mean you have to keep everything from me, how will I know what to avoid if I don't even know what's going on?"

"Pluh 'pare me, ma'uhm," he splutters, "Ah didn't mehm to ahpset yew."

You glare down and tighten your grip, "Are you really apologetic or do you think you're such a strong man now that you don't have to listen to your girlfriend anymore?"

"Ah cause not," Vasco endures his punishment valiantly but continues to speak in muffled words, "watevah yew shay, go."

Finally, you release him and Vasco breathes out a sigh of relief. "Besides, you know I can help you if anything arises, right? I don't think Jace alone is enough to make up for your absent brain cells..."

Distracted by rubbing his squeezed cheeks, he asks, "What?"

"Nothing," you say. "Anyway, you guys are big boys, now, I don't care if you get into fights long as you win it. But if you stopped winning, then I'll start having a problem."

"I'll do my best to not cause a problem for you," Vasco says resolutely, then with a sheepier tone, he adds, "can I get a kiss on my boo-boo?"

You sigh, a bit overdramatic. However, before granting him his wish, you pull at his cheek once more. Really... he doesn't have fat there, too. You can scarcely believe he's meant to be younger than you. Maybe it's you who are doing it wrong...

"Seriously," you drop a kiss on his lips, which is decidedly not where he asked, "you're lucky I love you."

"Aw," he grins goofily, not even noticing you didn't grant him his request, "I love you, too."

"Awwwwwwwwww."

Just then, you turn to see the rest of Burn Knuckles watching your little interaction. All of them make various expressions of fondness, but that does nothing for the strangeness of the situation.

"Stop watching, damnit!"

#vasco lee #vasco lee x reader #lookism #lookism x reader #fics

[redrobin-detective]

I am once more breaking into your house and sitting on your couch and eating cream puffs to rant about one of losses of the modernization of Captain Marvel’s character as a ‘childish, vaguely annoying kid in an adult boy’ is taking away the concept of children being wise and responsible.

The whole reason Billy was chosen was because, even as a homeless child, he was more kind and more worthy than most adults. He was not a desperate last resort, Bill was chosen for who he was as a person who had nothing and still remained so good. And those parts of Billy: his empathy and understanding of suffering, his resilience, his determination to be kind in a cruel world, that transfers over and is what Marvel is made of.

Even taking out the whole Wisdom of Solomon thing which I take as granting Marvel superhuman knowledge of magic and above average intuition and insight, Billy himself has plenty to offer in the brains department. Billy’s greatest strength is his heart, of having a good understanding of people and being a great moral compass and mediator. 

Reading some of the older Cap comics, we can see Marvel acting cheerful, kindly, occasionally naïve but rarely out and out childish. Captain Marvel was a shining beacon, someone to be admired and looked up to and often that same respect expanded to Billy because he had those same qualities. 

The appeal of Marvel being a child in a magical adult body is less ‘tee hee look at this kid be a weird adult’ and more the affirmation that kids have worth before their 18th birthday. Kids reading those comics can see that Billy is just as brave, honorable, smart as Marvel and appreciate seeing a child being able to have worth in an adult’s world (this argument applies to the Robins and most of the kid heroes too). But also! Billy not only is ‘adult-like’ but he has qualities that adults don’t have that contributes to who he is as a hero.

Kids often have a simpler way of looking at the world, less able to see and process the shades of grey of things. Sometimes that’s a good thing. There is something lost in the transition from childhood to adulthood, that understanding of social norms and ‘that’s how things are’. As a child, Bill still holds firm to principles that some of his adult coworkers may see as flexible and that adds such a fascinating dynamic to interactions with Billy and the rest of the League. There’s that great part from Injustice in which Marvel and Billy are internally arguing and Bill says something to the effect of “That sounds like the Wisdom of Solomon, I don’t have that, I’m 12″. While Bill and Marvel are the same and not is a weird mixed up fashion, Billy just straight up can’t or won’t understand Marvel’s adult rationalizations of complex issues. 

Robin going on a rant and losing her point halfway through? It’s more likely than you think so I’ll wrap up. I have no problem with Cap acting silly, being relatable, but Marvel is Billy and Bill’s circumstances mean that he’s not gonna be a super hyperchaotic, kinda stupid child. He has his own worth, his own wisdom outside of Captain Marvel and that adds a unique voice to the JLA’s table consisting of not only adults, but adults of wealth and means. There’s no right way to interpret a character, especially one with such a long, convoluted history like Cap but, idk. There’s a sense of fulfillment in seeing a kid being seen as worthy for his own efforts and not just being used for comic relief.  

#billy batson #I've had this rant circling in my head like the windows logo for ages #Its one of my favorite parts about the character #Ive been slowly making my way through 75 years of Shazam and Im really appreciating those interpretations #like yeah hes a kid! but hes a genuinely good kid who deserves his powers! #and moreover as Billy hes not a chaotic nutbar but a responsible kid and is respected for it #i do like Cap having the freedom to live out some of the childhood Billy was denied #so let him be weird and kinda cheesy and goofy #but goddamn Marvel/Billy is one of the most respected heroes out there and that aspect is very very important to me #I'm gonna add a panel from the 75 year which just fucking gets me ok #like thats my cap #no flak for people who like chaotic Big-esque Marvel like in the movie #but thats not my preference

[elizabethrobertajones]

[the TARDIS arrives at Gatwick airport in 1966 where Polly witnesses a murder]

The murder is going to be your other travelling companion who is a scot from the 1700s??? You can't just take him to present day Glasgow airport???????????

...

I'm really enjoying the 2nd doctor but largely in comparison to how the creep of time is introducing more and more recognisable TV drama standards and easing my 21st century brain into things in a more familiar way.

There was also a real churn of companions after the first squad departed so I didn't really check in with the end of the seasons with posts because they're not lining up their appearances and disappearances with ends and beginnings of seasons, so the binge watch doesn't have good start and end markers and makes it really easy to forget that that would have been a good place to make a post with an update.

While I can see from like the grand scope of history psychoanalysing the Doctor he let his granddaughter go and then sequentially collected 2 more girls of similar age to fuss over with the exact same language and affection and then they inevitably also moved on because they were randos and not his actual beloved family he could keep forever, so he accidentally just compounded that trauma, it also was kind of a whirl when you have to also skip chunks of missing episodes here and there, drastically shortening the time the audience gets with them. So he kinda burned through 2 replacement granddaughters in a week and then regenerated of old age.

I had really high hopes for the first adult replacement companion, err... Steven? he missed a ton of episodes including the whole set after his intro, and also his parting episodes. (The trend of the BBC saying all the costumes sounded like a hassle to recreate as to why there's no animation really lines up with what sounds like real problematic concepts for modern audiences so I think these episodes may just kinda. Accidentally stay lost. Oops, says the BBC.) Anyway this guy seemed really interesting from his intro then was just a shouty man who was probably rather fumbled in execution, or else only interesting in the missing content.

The 2nd doctor is someone who I know only from pop culture as a face who comes in slide shows of all the doctors, and literally nothing else. Looking at the lost episodes list and how the animated recreations are very recent, I can see how he was probably only known very well to people who really put an effort in to read or listen to deep nerdy fan Doctor Who stuff, and the whole show being on iplayer is such a new development I feel like it's the first chance for average half-invested people to only just meet him. And almost entirely as an animated character.

He inherited the adult companions from the last doctor - Polly and Ben - who are really good characters both of them. Or at least, Polly was from her intro episode and shows flashes of brilliance when not just being used as the screaming damsel (alas). She had great chemistry with the previous companion Dodo (who was a bit older seeming than the other "child" designated girls and liked fashion and clubbing so represented the granddaughter parade growing older and away from the Doctor I guess and just chose to stay in modern London off screen). Since Dodo never even came back to say goodbye, I was very disappointed she and Polly didn't get more than one episode to hang out.

Ben is an absolute treasure though, I'd recommend watching just for him because he's the most normal lad guy with a force of personality, and he's charmed me by basically just existing as a bloke who is a stalwart stand up guy being put in Situations. Missing a few episodes with him so I have no idea if we learn WHY he was in deep depression on introduction (the same episode that set up Polly) or if he was cured by having a sense of purpose travelling with the Doctor. It could also be once again the intro episode gives us chewy characters but then doesn't bother chewing them once we have them vs how all the modern companions are basically leading the show with their emotional plots. The episodes are very oriented still towards action and if the characters have challenging moments they are of course very repressed and British about dealing with it.

By season 4 when we have the second doctor he shows up acting all kooky and it's hard to tell at first if he's just like that because he regenerated and doesn't know who he is, but I'm far enough along now that while he's stabilised he's definitely trying too hard and has the same vibes as Matt Smith trying to follow Tennant did.

In this case, he literally seems not to have changed his clothes since the regeneration and I think it's been a whole season or two since he changed, and he's still wearing the First Doctor's suit hanging off him all too-large shirt and jacket, and the belt knotted at the front to keep his trousers up. It's very symbolic and knowing that he just tried to replace a beloved character but also watching it, he's really just playing along the tropes of what the Doctor is supposed to do and not contributing more than like, funny little quirks to the original formula, rather than being a whole different guy and it's just suffering the inevitable drag that happens when you do that and don't go hard in another lane.

In this case the only real change that's setting the action is that they're not having him be grandfatherly and don't have a companion he treats like a granddaughter, and are allowing the adult companions to help set a tone, so it's good the 3 of them have strong personalities (Polly's trap in the misogyny of the era aside) and are taking part in a lot of action because they can fill out a lot of the space around the Doctor and help actually give some personality to what's happening, since the 2nd Doctor is giving plot required meddling and nonsense but his personality is just not filling up the space like the 1st did. Far more mad scientist but without the forcefulness that I didn't even like from the 1st Doctor but at least was a real unarguable powerhouse performance.

Anyway all the episodes are missing where the Doctor heads off to 18th century Scotland and just collects a random guy there, so you jump right to him taking this lad to Sci Fi Scenarios and he's there in a kilt and freaking out about everything because he's got no reference. I was talking to my mum about all this and we agreed if you did the same to a 1940/50s guy he'd be almost as mentally unprepared but as soon as you hit the 60s and have people who've even heard of a space race you get companions who are ready to conceptualise things in a different way and don't feel as historical. The Modern Era Doctors could grab a 1960s companion if they felt like it and they wouldn't feel as out of place in terms of being able to understand casually what is happening around them at all times, is what I mean.

Interesting framework for like, a meta explanation for why the Doctor's travels suddenly kick into gear when he hits the 60s and starts sort of, having picked up companions from there and needing to go back there to drop them off and pick up new kids in the same week, begins to anchor to our modern time progression. Just because he hits the start of humans having a brain for space travel and thinking of modern sci fi concepts and understand the basic principles of science we still use as a baseline today, and he begins at the very start of when people were ready for that and in that very loop de loop way ends up following along the progress as he takes companions from further and further down this timeline in a semi-chronological order.

Although the modern ones all being FIRMLY from our present day does make it very funny that we've had a girl from the future as the 2nd granddaughter, and now a lad from the far enough past to make it REALLY weird in this early run when there didn't seem to be such strict rules on where people could come from to be an Official Companion.

Absolute "this would kill a medieval peasant" behaviour.

In a chunk of very lost episodes in the 1st doctor's run wikipedia described him taking a girl from Troy and accidentally getting her killed by space aliens in the far future. (I've also noticed he does a lot of killing thousands of people or carelessly exploding companions in the missing episodes... Talk about BBC propaganda XD)

I think after watching several episodes with Jamie the 1700s Scottish piper as a companion, he may be one of my favourites though, just because he's been in a long run of future episodes with lots of aliens and nonsense. Guy's fought Daleks and Cybermen and weird crab aliens and he's doing ALRIGHT for someone in his situation. Gold star for culture shock recovery.

I guess I will watch what happens to him when he sees an airplane for the first time now.

#doctor who

[crippleprophet]

hiii!! i was wondering if u have any advice on getting taken seriously and getting care in an emergency department as a chronically ill/disabled person?

i've had progressive muscle weakness, fatigue, nerve issues, and pain for like five years that hasn't been properly diagnosed (been told it was fibro but. doesn't seem to fully fit that anymore. idk if anything will show up on tests but even if it doesn't i feel like the more correct diagnosis would be ME. my current gp thinks i have [seronegative] myasthenia gravis but gps can't order emgs so can't diagnose it), and recently have been having trouble breathing that seems like it's due to muscle weakness in my chest and follows the same patterns as my other muscle weakness.

my gp can't do anything to help (and referrals always get declined because the system is overwhelmed) and can only advise that i go to the hospital, been to one hospital who sent me home because my oxygen saturation was fine (even though from what i've read shortness of breath caused by muscle weakness doesn't show in oxygen saturation til it's Very Very bad, at the time i could only speak a couple syllables per breath and my peak flow was around half of what it usually is), i asked my gp what to do and he told me to try the further away hospital and explain that i haven't been able to get care at the closer one.

my mum is going to take me in a couple days (unless i really can't breath in the mean time obviously) and i'm nervous because i usually get dismissed, or they'll do a couple tests but not the ones that would actually show the conditions that i might actually have. i don't know how to advocate for myself without getting seen as overreacting, or get care for a chronic condition that has become urgent because usually if it's been happening for a while they'll say to just talk to ur gp but. my gp can't do anything.

(note: i know ur only supposed to go to the emergency room for things that are really urgent and the fact that i'm waiting a couple days might make it not urgent. my gp has said this is the best thing i can do though because there's literally no other avenue for me to get care and with my breathing the way it is i am even more restricted in what i can do than i have been before.)

oh god, i’m so sorry you’re in this position and am sending so much love to you. obligatory disclaimer that i’m not a medical professional, just Some Guy with a couple degrees, a girlfriend in medical school, and a whole lot of medical trauma.

that being said, my only advice is to lie. lie your ass off, lie like your life depends on it, most importantly lie in an informed fashion - which is easy in this case because you pretty much know what you have, you just need them to do the test you want. the doctor thinks they’re creating a clinical picture on a blank canvas and you need to give them a paint-by-numbers.

here are the factors i would consider and the narrative i would construct if i was in your position, but it’s your body, your experiences, and your care (or lack thereof), so all of this is just my opinion and your mileage absolutely may vary:

most importantly, make sure anyone with you in the ER is on the same page. a lot of doctors assume patients are lying by default because they suck, so if somebody contradicts you, you’re probably screwed. when my gf takes me to a doctor’s appointment, we have a “what are we lying to them about” meeting ahead of time. you know your mum best, so you probably know what approaches she would/wouldn’t be on board with, but i’d initiate that conversation like “i’m concerned this hospital might dismiss me like the other one did, so i’m planning to say XYZ to hopefully get them to take me more seriously” and not “Some Guy on tumblr told me to lie my ass off” lol

next, make your symptoms match the textbook. downside to this, i definitely recommend not bringing up ME/CFS because they can’t/won’t test for or treat it (i have a friend in the UK who almost certainly has ME/CFS and just got sent to even more physical therapy). here’s where it helps that your GP is pretty sure they know what you’ve got (whether you actually have that or not): research myasthenia gravis (i recommend continuing education sites geared towards clinicians), know what’s on that list, and (with some exceptions) say you have those symptoms. my personal strategy is three-tiered:

lies of creation: unless it’s something immediately life-threatening or something they can concretely disprove, say you have symptoms of your disease even if you don’t. ER doctors don’t give a shit if they can say you need to wait it out and go to a specialist, regardless of that being unrealistic and your symptoms being unlivable, so you need something urgent and serious. (my gf says “they might be worried if you’re having trouble swallowing. maybe.”) myasthenia gravis typically waxes and wanes, so even if you’re able to do something when they examine you, it would be totally realistic for you to not have been able to a couple of hours ago (eg, when you arrived to the ER). for example, i told the NHS i totally had a positive MRI in the US that i was having delays getting access to the records of, even though my MRI didn’t show a speck of inflammation, because at least that got me a couple months of flare medication while they confirmed and an NSAID when they decided i was in remission rather than literally nothing. obviously you can’t tell them you’re seropositive because they’ve unfortunately got that record, which means you’re already fighting an uphill battle, which leads to my favorite sub-category lie of creation: anything you’ve read or believe or know that works in your favor, your GP told you. memorize what percent of people with myasthenia gravis are seronegative - don’t lead with that, because doctors hate when people are educated about our conditions or know what’s wrong with us, but if they say “we won’t do an EMG because you can’t have myasthenia gravis because of your bloodwork,” then you can be like, “my GP said that’s pretty common, like, about X% of people don’t show up on the test, and they’re really convinced i have this.”

lies of exaggeration: increase frequency of symptoms, impact on your activities of daily living, rank on a scale. familiarize yourself with what the numbers on the pain scale generally mean in terms of ability, and elaborate - “my pain is at an 8, it’s really hard to XYZ.”

lies of omission: this ER doctor was an asshole and still would’ve fucked me over regardless, but the instant i said “yes” when he asked if i experienced acid reflux, he stopped listening to a single word i said. i was experiencing acid reflux, and i knew that symptom happened with IBD, celiac, and a host of other serious conditions, but he instantly decided that was all that was going on with me, tried to send me home with just an antacid during the worst pain of my life, and led to me experiencing malnutrition and all my hair falling out due to the severe delays in accessing care. my recommendation for “instant dismissal” (or worse, “instant institutionalization”) symptoms to omit are: acid reflux; menstrual cramps or really anything related to menstruation; anything they could dismiss as covid - if they try to dismiss your breathing issues as covid, say you’ve tested negative this week even if you haven’t had a test. if you’ve had covid and you’re certain it’s not in your chart (assume it’s in your chart if you’ve ever said it to a doctor), say you’ve never had covid. if they still try to say it’s covid, stress that this has been going on for years before covid; anything psychiatric.

so, what i would do:

“i have X, Y, and Z symptoms. my GP thinks i have myasthenia gravis and is working on referring me, and said to go to A&E if A, B, or C got worse. A, B, and C have [measurably gotten significantly worse since the last time you went to A&E] - i’m having trouble breathing, swallowing, and [other].” hope that they decide to do an EMG on their own.

if they try to send you home or try to do useless tests, say “my GP mentioned that i really need an EMG in order to get the treatment that would help me be able to breathe, swallow, [other]. will this test also do that?” (one of the instances where you strategically ‘play dumb’ because doctors hate when we know things)

if they still won’t do anything helpful, either you or your mum say: “i’ve/they’ve had these symptoms for five years and it’s never been remotely this bad. i/they seriously can’t breathe, swallow, [other] - how do we manage these symptoms before we can get to a specialist?” i’m white and, having been super professional/polite until then, this is the point where i start crying; you know your circumstances best and whether that will incur racism, etc, upon you from the medical system.

if they still want to send you home, i (again, being white) would at that point firmly request a second opinion. they still might send you home with nothing; i did all of this shit and received 50 pills of 50mg tramadol in addition to the antacid, and probably an angry note in my file, and not a millisecond of further testing.

i say this with love and from experience, in the interest of minimizing trauma and devastation: you need, to the best of your ability, to go to the emergency department with the expectation of receiving no care. i recommend a buddy, a reminder, and a reward: message a bitter crip or someone else who Gets It throughout the process and have support in place for if/when you get home with new medical neglect and trauma; remind yourself that your symptoms are real and serious and, in my gf’s words, “if your GP thinks you have myasthenia gravis, you almost definitely have something neuromuscular going on.” i like to make posters of my reminders (example here: link); do something that will make you feel better afterwards - my go-to is buying a new stuffed animal after experiencing medical trauma. i have a lot of them lol

for more advice on coping with medical neglect before and after appointments/visits, see my post here (link). if you don’t know anyone who’ll understand or be available and helpful to support you during your trip to A&E, feel free to dm me and i’d be happy to give you my WhatsApp. i wish you so much luck and you’ll be in my thoughts, i really hope it goes as well as possible - you deserve quality, compassionate, thorough care. if you’re comfortable with doing so and feeling up for it i’d really value an update afterwards 💓💓💓

#doctor hate blog ✌️🖤 #faq #hospital talk #asks

[theflagscene]

Dude, you’re not supposed enjoy the smell of your grandpa that much. Wtf Min!? I mean I get it, everyone’s old man smells like Old Spice occasionally, thinking your crush is sexy because they use it to is perfect normal. But that’s only if you’re not comparing him to your grandfather the whole time you’re thinking about it.

Also, what is with these shows (it’s not just in Asia, media across the globe in general) acting like 30 is old? I bet you had Cherry Magic been made as a sapphic series, the female lead would’ve have three cats, a chocolate addiction and people asking her why she didn’t have children and a husband yet.

The same goes for ones like Moonlight Chicken and Old Fashioned Cupcake, the male leads as 39 going on 40 and because they’re single apparently nothing else they have in their lives mean anything. Jim owned his own business, raised a child into a very strong and intelligent young man, kept his community together and was a well loved part of his neighbourhood. But! The dude was single, so therefore he was painted as living a lonely empty life.

Same went with Nozue, he was the head of his department at work, he was extremely well liked, had a decently sized apartment (which in Japan is unheard of unless you’re very well off). Yes, he lived a somewhat mundane life, but who the hell doesn’t!? But apparently because he was single he was pitied and gossiped about by his colleagues, and because he never dated any of the women that tossed themselves at him, none of them considered that maybe he was happy single or! - and this is another issue for a entirely different rant - maybe that he was either gay or aro/ace.

Whew, okay, I’m cool, I’m chill. Sorry, I think I had a moment because my own birthday is coming up soon and as someone in their late 30’s that is constantly being told ‘omg but you look so much younger than that’ I just got a bit annoyed. Also, sidebar; I really don’t get why it’s considered some kind of compliment to tell a person; oh you don’t look that perfectly fine adult age, you actually look like a barely legal child instead.

Why is being an actual adult human being considered so bad? You couldn’t pay me to be 19 again, that shit was terrible!

Seriously if you’re 19 and somehow stumbled upon this weird rambling post, don’t worry honey, one day you’re gonna be 35 and not have to deal with any of the confused shit you’re dealing with right now. It’ll be okay, hang in there, being a grown up is actually way better than it sounds.

#Lynn watches Cherry Magic th #and apparently after 2 minutes in I lost my mind and wrote this rant about ageism instead #I’ll go back to watching it now #cherry magic th #jinmin #jintamin

[mochinek0]

Agreste-Wayne 19

It was hard to believe one year had passed so quickly. Wayne Manor was filled with close friends and family, all to celebrate one person: Emma Lily Agreste. It was her first birthday and so much had changed since she was born.

Much to Gabriel's distaste, Adrien had found he preferred Gotham. Adrien and Emma had officially moved into Wayne Manor. Gabriel had hoped that Adrien would come back and at least work in the business section. He wouldn't have forced him to come to meetings or model. Unfortunately, he had found a job at Wayne Enterprise and was Tim's direct line to the science department. Perhaps, he was only sour that he had to leave Paris to see his granddaughter, but he had never seen his son happier.

Quickly, Gabriel found he had gained a new respect for Mrs. Wayne. Mairnette Wayne was a rival and comrade in fashion, whom he could bounce ideas off of. While his son was working, she was happy to allow him time with Emma and converse about the latest trends. They had their differences, but they could also call each other and complain about the competition. Eventually, not to anyone's surprise, they began to bounce around the idea of a collaboration.

"Happy Birthday, Princess!" Adrien cried, happily, as he took another picture.

"Papa!" Emma giggled.

"Okay, so we have the cake and presents ready!" the excited father spoke, "Nino, Kagami, Luka, and Alix are putting their stuff in their rooms."

"Yeah, after you shooed them away." Marinette smiled, "They barely said 'hi' to anyone."

"Shoot." he winced, "I'll apologize when they get back down."

"Amaya, Jun." Damian spoke, "Why don't you take Emma outside as we prepare the decorations. I believe her grandfather is here, as well."

"Yes, Baba." Amaya answered, picking up the birthday girl.

"I'll grab Titus!" Jun shouted, running out of the room.

Amaya and Jun quickly adapted to Emma as being their cousin. They loved spending time with her and Uncle Adrien. They had made some not to subtle remarks about wanting a younger sibling to the whole family, leaving Damian and Marinette bright red.

Marinette placed her hands on Adrien's shoulders, "Breathe. I know it's her first birthday and you want it to be special."

Adrien nodded in response.

"Spend time with her, take pictures, talk with your father, and let everyone spend time with her, too." Mari smiled, "That's what will make her birthday special. Not the flavor of the cake, not the decorations, and not the dinner. It will be when you see her eat cake and open presents."

Adrien smiled and pulled his best friend into a hug, "You always know what to say."

Nino, Kagami, Luka, and Alix came back downstairs.

"I'm sorry for forcing you to put your stuff away so fast!" Adrien apologized.

They all laughed. They could tell he was excited.

"Where is Little Emma?" Kagami questioned.

"She is outside." Damian interrupted, "The girls took her to play so we could finish setting up."

"Right; food will be inside." Marinette smiled, "Party, outside!"

"Where can we put her presents?" questioned Luka.

"Oh! In the dining room." Adrien cried out, "Cake, then presents!"

Alix laughed, "She'll probably pass out from the sugar rush and playing with her new toys."

Everyone placed their gifts for the birthday girl down. Nino lingered behind as the others went to see Emma.

"Need help?" he questioned.

"Sure." Mari answered.

Damian grabbed Marinette's hand and dragged her to the other side of the room.

Nino sighed as he followed Adrien to put up more streamers.

"She still...." the DJ began.

"Damian's overprotective." Adrien spoke, "He knows who you are and who you talk to."

Nino handed him a piece of tape, "Do you think she's okay?"

"Marinette read the blog." he answered, "She knows Alya is sorry, but she was hurt a lot by Alya's decisions back then. I don't think Mari's ready to forgive her yet."

"It's been almost a year." Nino stated.

Adrien sighed and turned to his friend, "I know, but in Mari's eyes, this never should have happened. Lila didn't need to have a blog written about her; she didn't need to be outted on tv."

"What do you mean?" his friend asked.

"All she wanted was for the people she grew up with, ten years ago, to listen to her. Alya never would have been fired from her job and she wouldn't be going to school for culinary because she can't find a job. In a way. Marinette thinks it's all her fault." Adrien explained, "If she tried harder to call her out, tried to prove more how Lila was lying. She's known Jagged Stone since she was thirteen. She's even thought what it would have been like to call him that day when Lila claimed to have tinnitus from saving his cat. She blames herself for Alya not getting her dream job. She knows how much it meant to her to be a journalist. That article spread far and wide. Even Lois Lane, Alya's idol, told her there wasn't really a way back from that. It would follow her no matter where she tried to apply."

Nino frowned. He never thought about how Marinette was dealing with this. He knew Marinette would never be on speaking terms with Lila. He thought eventually she'd speak to Alya since they had been best friends, but now he wasn't so sure. He had been getting closer to Alya, but he knew they would never get back together.

"Marinette doesn't wanna hear apologies." Adrien continued, "She can tell Alya is sorry. If anything, Mari would probably cry and say sorry to Alya. You guys are the closest people Mari talks to from Paris and half of them weren't even in that school."

Nino suddenly started to feel uncomfortable, "Did people really try to get her to find them jobs?"

The birthday girl's father nodded, "I asked Damian about it later. I had no clue, but he said he ended up blocked a couple numbers. They called her phone and at Wayne Enterprise. I think she was pregnant with Jun. He grabbed the phone and yelled at someone on how his wife wasn't responsible for the mistakes they made in the past. She had zero reason to help them now. He told them to spread the word around to the others because the next person from Bustier's class that called, he was gonna sue them for harassment."

"It was that bad?" Nino cried out.

The newest adopted Wayne nodded.

"Who called?" he hesitated to ask.

"I know Kitty Section didn't, but only because of Luka. He might not be with them anymore, but he called them idiots when he found out about everything. He told them that until they found solid proof of what Lila said was true and that Marinette was the liar, he wouldn't play with them. They had a concert that weekend, I think. Anyways, Juleka looked everywhere for Lila's old modeling shoots, aside from my father. Rose called Prince Ali. Ivan looked up about Jagged Stone."

"And that's how they found out." the DJ answered.

"Yep. Prince Ali had never heard of Lila or an environmental project. Ivan learned tha Jagged went to lots of animal charities and was seen holding cats. He wasn't allergic to fur, like she claimed. Also learned he's never owned a cat, but a dog as a child. Juleka only found the Gabriel brand. It was probably then she realized that Lila was never going to help her become a model. They apologized to him. They wanted to apologize and suggested going to the bakery. Luka had to tell them that she had left Paris because of the bullying. They didn't take it well and cancelled the concert."

Nino sat down, "That's what that was?"

"I think Mylene called once." Adrien spoke.

"Really?" his friend questioned, "Ivan and Mylene don't like confrontation."

"It wasn't about a job, though. I think she just wanted to apologize. Ivan tried to tell her, but Lila is her friend, so they argued. He showed her all the proof he found. Mylene even talked to Juleka and Rose, but she still didn't listen. Mylene left on a trip that was suppose to be paid for and had nowhere to stay when she got there. They had never heard of Lila Rossi. She ended up callign Ivan, in tears, that she couldn't reach Lila and had nowhere to stay. She was sobbing in the lobby. Ivan didn't have enough money either. Mylene had to work for her ticket back."

"I think Alix found out when Lila claimed to have an injury and she had the same one. Alix was on three different medications, could barely walk, and had her leg in a cast. Lila was limping around. Alix suggested going to a hospital, but Lila claimed to be fine. She told Kim later, but he didn't believe her. He said Lila was probably stronger than her for building houses for charity. She called and apologized for not realizing it sooner, especially all her phony injuries."

"Max did call looking for a job. Marinette told him 'No'. He complained how they needed someone like him to further the future of Wayne Enterprise. He reminded her that he created an AI at age thirteen. All she said was that he thought a paper napkin could take out his eye with glasses on. He hung up."

"A blow to the ego, then?" Nino questioned.

Adrien nodded and continued, "Chloe never cared. Sabrina went into psychology and realized just how bad Chloe and Lila were. She apologized to Marinette, but that's it. Nathanial might have been the one Damian yelled at, but I'm not sure."

Adrien took tons of pictures as Emma was passed around. She would waddle after Amya and Jun, with Titus by her side. She held onto his collar as she walked around the backyard in her dress. Emma was spoiled by her aunts and uncles. She smiled the whole day and looked just as excited as her father to have vanilla cake with strawberries. Gabriel was quick to help put Emma down to sleep as Adrien lugged her new toys and clothes to her room. Tom and Sabine offered to put Amaya and Jun to bed, as well. Gabriel went to check on his son and found him passed out, same position Emma was in.

'Definitely Father and Daughter. I wish you were here, Emile. We raised a fine young man and a great father.'

PERMANENT TAG LIST: @animeweebgirl @a-star-with-a-human-name @meme991001 @vixen-uchiha @abrx2002 @alysrose-starchild @fandom-trapped-03 @dood-space @moonlightstar64 @saltymiraculer @marveldcedits20 @09shell-sea09 @icerosecrystal @animegirlweeb @insane-fangirl-of-everything @blueblossombliss @nickristus-dreamer​ @thepaceperson​

AGRESTE-WAYNE TAG LIST: @danielslilangel @pawsitivelymiraculous @crystalangelluna @tomanyfandomsonmymind @sassakitty @ichigorose @megawhitleycalderonpaganus

#mochinek0 #dc x mlb #marinette wayne #adrien agreste #platonic adrientte #damian wayne #nino lahiffe #alya cesaire #luka couffaine #alix kubdel #kagami tsuguri #gabriel agreste #tom dupain #sabine cheng #titus #emma agreste #birthday #firsts

[tepkunset]

X-Men Evolution ft. Alpha Flight

Been enjoying X-Men Evolution recently, and it made me think about how great an Alpha Flight episode could've been. Hell, there was a Captain America one, so why not?

Anyway, some thoughts about what an Evolution version of the characters might be like:

KIDS -

JEAN-PAUL BEAUBIER / NORTHSTAR:

Age 16, Québécois

Super-speed, flight, can create blinding light by linking with his sister

A jerk, but in his defence is straight up not having a good time. Only does homework for the classes he likes

Backstory only semi-unlocked because it's none of these clowns's business: Kid on his way to being an Olympic-level skier who is hinted to having been blackmailed into joining AF by Guardian, but mostly remains for the sake of his twin sister he only recently reunited with

I didn't bother designing new superhero outfits for JP and JM because why mess with existing perfection?

JEANNE-MARIE BEAUBIER / AURORA:

Age 16, Québécois

Super-speed, flight, can create blinding light by linking with her brother

Either very outgoing and bubbly or very shy and quiet, (depending on if she's Aurora or Jeanne-Marie of course). Definitely forgot about the homework

Backstory unlocked: Raised in a very old-fashioned Catholic boarding school hinted at to be abusive, until running away as Aurora and was found and recruited by Guardian. Really not sure how her DID might be handled in a kid-friendly cartoon, but I think it should still be present because I don't see why children can't be educated on such things

I originally had her civvies designed to reference her 2.0 yellow costume, but then I liked the idea of JM wearing blue and JP wearing pink too much

MARRINA SMALLWOOD:

Age 14, Newfoundlander

Super-speed underwater, can breathe underwater as well as on land

Just happy to be here; tries too hard to seek validation from everyone older than her. Agonizes over not being able to go to public school due to her looks

Backstory unlocked: Was adopted by a small coastal family and raised in a very happy environment, joined AF because she wanted to see more of the outside world and genuinely believes Guardian is teaching them to do good

I literally just drew her in a wetsuit for a superhero outfit lol

ELIZABETH "LIZ" TWOYOUNGMEN / TALISMAN:

Age 15, Albertan / Tsuut'ina

Deus ex machina mystic powers

Running on anxiety and bitterness towards Guardian. Won't let you copy her homework but will help you with your own for as long as it takes

Backstory unlocked: She and her father were recruited to Alpha Flight as what she believes is a PR stunt for so-called Reconciliation. Her magic circlet helps her control her mystical powers, but unlike in the comics she's capable of taking it off

Of all the characters I was most excited to design a new age-appropriate look for her, since 90% of her outfits in the comics look like they're racist Spirit Halloween costumes

ANNE MCKENZIE / SNOWBIRD:

Age 17, Nunavummiuq / Inuk

Animal shape-shifting

Easily forgotten from being so quiet, very prim and proper behaviour that can sometimes come off as up-tight. Studies above and beyond regular homework because she feels like she has to work twice as hard to be respected

Backstory semi-unlocked: With her parents divorced, Anne was used to spending the school year down south with her father and summer up north with her mother, but when her powers started manifesting, her father scorned her and wanted to give up his custody. Instead she now spends her school year under the care of Department H

I hate Snowbird's comic backstory so much; the whole "she's 100% white because her mother was a goddess who temporarily transformed into a white woman to appeal to her white father" makes zero sense and also has gross connotations, so I decided since this is my adaptation, she's not a demigod but rather just a mutant, because why not...

I thought about giving her tunniit, but since I know so little I figured I wasn't the best person to depict them

WALTER LANGKOWSKI / SASQUATCH:

Age 17, British Colombian

Super-strength, super-stamina (when in gamma form)

Biggest nerd in any room, pretty chipper. Will do your homework for you just for fun

Backstory unlocked: Walter was taken in by Department H after being branded as a failed experiment by a group of scientists playing with gamma radiation—except the experiment didn't fail, turning Walter into a gamma mutate, but one with control over himself and the transformation

I had such a hard time trying to decide what to do with this bitch... His power is to turn into a 'cryptid' that is just lifting from spirits across multiple Indigenous cultures so that's really awkward, but I didn't want to leave him out since that felt weird? I do imagine this version of him having a different personality though, where he's less annoying

ADULTS -

JAMES MACDONALD HUDSON / GUARDIAN:

Age 35, Ontarian

Flight and super-strength granted by super-suit

Thinks acting like a Cool Dad™ will make children like him. Believes recruiting kids to work for the government is justified because they have superpowers, but at the same time hypocritically insults the X-Men

Backstory unlocked: Oil corporation research and developer who designed a super-suit for oil extraction, except then the Canadian government put him on the payroll to head Department H for monitoring superhumans in Canada

I knew I still wanted him to be decked out with the maple-leaf because it fits his asshole nature, but I wanted to make him look like he's trying too hard to be Hip

MICHAEL TWOYOUNGMEN:

Age 40, Albertan / Tsuut'ina

Healing mystic powers

Is the actual Cool Dad because he's so chill and actually cares about the well-being of the kids

Backstory Unlocked: A surgeon who turned to traditional medicines in attempt to save his wife when western medicine failed her, and though he he did not succeed, he did discover he had innate mystical powers, putting him on Department H's radar. Just here to protect and patch up the children the best he can

EUGENE JUDD / PUCK:

Age 42, Saskatchewanian

Super-durability

Says thinks like 'back in my day' and 'eh' unironically way too much, low-key waiting on that inevitable divorce between the Hudsons

Backstory semi-unlocked: Is mostly there to train the kids how to be superheroes and survive the experience

Like Snowbird I think Puck's backstory is some bullshit that they should've just left alone instead of trying to create this magic explanation for his dwarfism and chronic pain... just let him be disabled! Disabled superheroes exist! So again, in this version he's just a mutant who happens to also have dwarfism and chronic pain

HEATHER MCNEIL-HUDSON:

Age 37, Albertan

Guardian's wife, tries to be a Team Mom and make up for her annoying husband

#alpha flight #x men evolution #jean paul beaubier #northstar #jeanne marie beaubier #aurora #marrina smallwood #snowbird #walter langkowski #sasquatch #james hudson #guardian #michael twoyoungmen #shaman #eugene judd #puck #heather mcneil hudson #art

[findafight]

here is the spotify link to Robin and Steve's Epic Platonic Soulmate Mixtape (vol.1) I'm going to say they made this version in the early spring of 1985. fic link

track list and explanations under the cut!!

Side A--the queer side

Total Eclipse of the Heart by Bonnie Tyler: I'm gonna take a wild guess and say y'all know why this is here

Rainbow Connection by Kermit: also self explanatory. and a bop. AND about rainbows. what more could you want?

Bangkok/One Night in Bangkok by Murray Head (Original Chess Recording version): 1) a banger. 2) from a whole musical written by the Bs of ABBA 3) Steve likes to listen to musical while vacuuming his pool :) 4) queer vibes. "the queens we use would not excite you" "i get my kicks above the waistline, sunshine" also to note they DID probably shave off the first minute of instrumental, but not all of it. I used this version and not the radio edit because in my heart of hearts I believe Steve picked up the Chess concept album in the fall of 1984, vibed with it, (I've answered an ask about stobin and the musical chess where I talk more) and that's the version he has.

Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy by Queen: tbh always sounded gay to me, and it's such a fun song, I think they'd vibe with it and agreed it's a silly little nod to steve's previous rep.

Me and Julio Down by the Schoolyard by Paul Simon: GAY GAY VERY GAY SONG "it's against the law...what their mama saw/it was against the law" HMM also it's catchy and has so much potential to be an angsty queer ballad too. (also Robin's dad is 100% a Simon and Garfunkle stan that's just. a fact to me.)

I'm Coiming Out by Diana Ross: iconic song claimed by the gays. for the obvious reasons. bit on the nose but this is for THEM.

Sunshine (Go Away Today) by Jonathan Edwards: About not letting someone control your life. It's catchy and heartfelt, dreams about the future. Steve's Vecna Song for me.

You Can't Hurry Love by The Supremes: stobin are losers in the love department, and it's a great and hopeful song about not rushing into things. The Supremes Version because Robin is influenced by her former Hippie parents, and Steve by his Aunt Evelyn and her love of 50's and 60's music. They have appreciation for the Oldie Goldies.

Lady Marmalade by LaBelle: Disco baby. I also feel this was a song for us queer folk. maybe because I'm queer and I like it. it's great, and robin loves hearing women sing about having sex.

Holding Out for a Hero by Bonnie Tyler: throwback to the first song on the mixtape Steve gave Robin at the very beginning! now with the Upside Down between them it means more too. it's also SO FUN to belt in the car. frantic and with a good beat. I don't think I need to justify this one haha

Believe it or Not (theme from Greatest American Hero) by Joey Scarbury: Robin LOVES this stupid show about a cringe fail teacher with his cringe fail life getting a super suit from aliens and then losing the instruction manual. It just feels like a show she'd like even though it's so silly. The theme song is actually great tho. I think it'd really tickle the part of Robin that feels overly average and a bit trapped in Hawkins, but feels those confines lessen when she's with Steve and getting to feel like there's more out there for her. Personally, I first heard it on cassette of top 100 tv themes (along with MASH, Law and Order, Hawaii Five-oh, Andy Griffith etc) sitting in a booster seat in the front seat of my family's motor home on a long summer road trip in the early 2000's, as my dad drove and told me what show each song was from. (Steve buddy I understand your dream so much ok. There's nothing quite like being a kid and going on a roadtrip with your family. magical.)

Side B--The Besties side

You're My Best Friend by Queen: Love song for your best friend me thinks yes :)

Stuck With You by Huey Lewis and the News: the only anachronistic song on the playlist, but I couldn't NOT put it on. lavender marriage stobin REAL. They're stuck with each other :) also look at Steve. He is a guy who listens to Huey Lewis. We know this. He heard this song a year before it came out and was like robin :') it's us....I'm stuck with you...I'm so Happy about it :))

Stoned Soul Picnic by The 5th Dimension: Robin's parents are former hippies. This song is fantastic. Pure vibes. Steve and Robin are going to get rescue cats that are bonded together and name them Sassafras and Moonshine for this song.

Video Killed the Radio Star by The Buggles: Bop and a half. Sing along song.

Both Sides Now by Judy Collins: 1)gorgeous song originally by Joni Mitchel but this version is a bit faster 2) Robin's former Hippie parents influencing her taste strike AGAIN 3) she tries to convince Steve it's about being "queer like him" and he doesn't buy it but "I've looked at love from both sides now/.../I really don't know love at all" and "Oh, but now old friends they're acting strange/ And they shake their heads and they tell me that I've changed/ Well something's lost, but something's gained" hit different for him

Only the Good Die Young by Billy Joel: I chose this billy joel song because it's 1) catchy as all hell 2) about having sex 3) mentions dying and stobin are like We didn't die!! hell yeah! Steve's a pianist and tbh he loves billy joel. who doesn't. it was between this one and piano man i guess, tho i love many Billy Joel songs that are "deeper cuts" ha. and "I'd rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints/the sinners are much more fun" line is like. what are they gonna do. not be an emotional queer teen about it?

Raspberry Beret by Prince: it's catchy, and whilst originally I had put La La Love You By Don McLean here, I like this one better. Robin is definitely a Prince fan. and a beret fan. happy coincidink. and its a fun song! about loosing your virginity to a hot girl in a barn!

Indiana Wants Me by R. Dean Taylor: okay originally I'll admit I put this on the masterplaylist because. obviously post-s4 Eddie running away angst song even if it's more folk-rock than metal. I think Steve and Robin would listen to it and really vibe with wanting to go home but not being able to. even if it's not literally. also they live in Indiana and like. you've gotta respect a song about where you live. ALSO the cop sounds in it. so good.

Born in the USA by Bruce Springsteen: a song? about being disillusioned with the American dream after seeing the institutional failures of the government??? very Steve. the whole album is great, and I know I've reblogged a post about Steve and the album (My Hometown hits different). It's angry, frustrated, passionate. Being queer in a small town where the government covers up it's human experimentation and alternate dimensions probably makes you feel a lot of things. All with the veneer of Americana.

Where Do You Go To (My Lovely) by Peter Starstedt: purely self indulgent of me. I adore this song. I think Steve heard it, and thought of Robin. The remembering, the deep knowledge of another person, the longing. When he told Robin that it's a song he always associates with her she tears up a bit, because it's so tender and loving, and a bit silly. Like. Steve knows she'll be amazing and can't comprehend anyone not seeing it. It's sooo tender.

Thank You for Being a Friend by Andrew Gold: Golden Girls didn't air their first episode until fall 1985, and obviously when it does Stobin are loyal viewers, (Steve is in love with Bea Arthur. as is right) but this song came out in the 70's. It's fun and cute and catchy! They love each other and are so, incomprehensibly grateful that they found each other.

#stobin #platonic stobin #RaSEPSM #stranger things #robin buckley #steve harrington #stranger things au #playlist #finda's rambles #finda writes stuff #im so mad i can't find the steve and born in the usa post. what the fuck. if anyone knows what im talking about please send it to me

[alitgblog]

OK got around to new episodes finally so volume viii thoughts:

i guess starting with, has casa always been this long??? maybe I'm just bored this time around? Or it's just the amount of challenges and dates they've thrown in?? (it's the latter)

I tapped through the whole moangate thing as quickly as I could because it's so boring. I can't believe there are at least two separate times they ask you to pay gems if you want the tea on the topic and I simply couldn't care less. But like it also feels like the Brad and Christy stuff and then also the Rachel stuff and the OGs love triangle or whatever, and at least some of it gives you insight on the characters, but it never really comes up and there's enough in the main story to come up with your opinions on the characters imo.

Emel getting on my nerves again. Talked about this last time, it feels odd and I don't love having every woman that's not an LI be an enemy for MC and also stuck in a shitty couple, but not completely out of character given her personality I guess, so not the worse thing fusebox has done. However, I am slowly coming around on this because actually it does feel like such a thing on love island where you watch a character you like and slowly you get annoyed by them and they do weird shit that makes you mad but it's partly because they're forced to be around these people 24/7 with cameras watching and everything. Like that's the Stanford Prison Experiment part of Love Island, so like... I'll accept it 😂😂

Anyway so dates! My MC was with Shawn who I got kind of sick of during the date, which was so funny for me personally because his hobbies are like movies and cooking, which are my hobbies. He's also very chill and serious, which is also my personality. And he's from the U.S. So. Maybe he's too much like me irl I wasn't about it.

So the date was meh because I just kept having MC pick the non flirty options and she was kind of cold, but from what I see from everyone else, the date was pretty good and I'm glad. It is weird though that at the end of it, MC gets the option to say she's not interested, and Shawn keeps trying to save it. Like the islanders talk about their dates afterward and he says their date was great and can't wait to see where they'll go moving forward. And MC is just nonplussed when Emel starts gushing about him and he's uncomfortable, trying to stay on MC's radar, but my MC couldn't give a shit.

And I understand it's to make the branching easier, but I just keep thinking like,,, if only it was S2, because then it'd be like the Lottie going after Gary storyline. Like I can't remember fully, but in my head it plays out slightly differently whether MC is flirting with Gary or not. Either way, Lottie is a little upset at MC, but sometimes she has reason to be.

Date with CLAUDIA however, went very well. I was giggling to myself because like the conversation was very forward and cute and Claudia is thinking about them moving in together and stuff? Adorable. (Actually I can't remember if this was in this date or one of the other scenes, but the fact that there's so many scenes with the female LIs being so forward is great).

Also the Bea and Claudia tension?? Like I feel like we either get one female LI or the female LIs constantly swapping out once you pick one, so the fact that they're both fighting over MC is very cool. I love a good love triangle. And it does make me want to replay with a Bea route, because I think she's so cute too. Both her sprite and her personality, and she does feel like a different character from Claudia, versus Chloe vs Bella vs Flo that all kind of have similar plotlines and therefore have a similar shell of a personality.

Speaking of Bea appreciation: her outfits! So cute. I know she's a stylist, so of course, but honestly best dressed female islander.

Actually, all the casa guys and bombshells kinda eat up the OGs in the fashion department. (except maybe Tyler, but that's only because I don't remember what he wears.) Like, Luna and Oakley are probably best dressed OGs imo, but I also kind of don't like that they wear such dark clothing in a show that takes place in the SUMMER. Like it's an aesthetic, but also it's not that interesting (like compare their fits to Najuma's)

I've already talked about this, but once again, it does feel like we're fitting so many challenges and dates in one volume and we get no chance to rest. Like there should be more downtime to chat with the islanders, but they always need to get interrupted by a challenge text for some reason. Not to mention, Mr. and Mrs. is such an odd choice for a casa challenge? Like if you think about the show, casa challenges usually compete with the other villa and are more physical so that editing the episode can be less talking and more montages. And also then you get the comparison between how couples are acting apart from each other. (which, is also a thing missing from this volume.) So Mr. and Mrs. would be just edited as a lot of people talking and too many stories to follow.

On the bright side, I completely forgot what career I chose for my MC and I was trying to think about it for the last few episodes because I like to let that affect the personality/choices she's gonna make when I play the game. And as it turns out, my MC is a musician and that made me immediately think, oh she should've been more interested in Max, but for some reason I thought she was a lawyer. Doesn't matter now.

Also fun fact my MC likes r&b and so does Claudia so ya know, just soulmate things whatever 😁

So Liam's a dick, that's not new. But I will say, I like the way they presented his faults here. Because Dylan was so clearly a villain from the get go, and then Hamish is arrogant at first but then cartoonishly gross and awful within like two episodes, and everyone got upset about the Nicolas/Jonny 180s, so the bar was low. But Liam starts off arrogant, but confident he wants Bea, and he claims to be one of those people that just always tells it like it is as an excuse to be an asshole. And you really start to feel it here. Not only that, but he doesn't listen to Bea and I think it wouldn't work if Bea just accepted it but she doesn't take his shit. ("I have a nice voice too, you should listen to it some time." BEA OMG). Then later in the volume, there are game player accusations thrown out, and that makes perfect sense to me, he's just trying to tell her the right things so he can get in the villa.

Just to talk about Bea again, but like oh it hurts me so much when Bea is like "I have to couple with someone, why not Liam?" and that breaks my heart. I want to do the Bea route just to save her from Liam. And i know she's talking about the weird thing litg is doing again where they can't just let the single islanders be single, but in my head it's her just being like "no one else wants me" and settling for this dude 😭😭

I also don't understand how this game led to a date that Emel got to pick? (also the prize doesn't make a bunch of sense since we just got dates.) Like if she won with Max, you'd think she would just go on an extra date with Max or Max would also get to pick someone to go on a date with (and he'd pick MC because he's upset and I like to be messy but like maybe you could also reject and he'd pick Bea/Claudia).

i have so many thoughts this needs a part two (not so many thoughts as much as I don't know how to be concise 😅😂)

#long one bc i'm typing on my computer instead of on my phone lol #rambling #litg s8 #litg #if anyone's keeping track: i have made no progress on that paint by numbers but was late to play the episodes anyway lmaoo

[miamigrandprix]

hi hello i'm asking for 4433 brainrot (this is @bonolewis btw fhdkfjf) <3

oooooooh 4433 brainrot was my first f1 wip that got past the 1k mark, like really got off the ground. before i feel down the logirlie rabbit hole 4433 was very much my Brand™ along w/ dando, i love them so so much as a ship even now still.

ANYWAY my fic concept was au where lewis is a high end fashion designer and max is a commercial model and lewis happens to see a picture of max hanging in a window of a department store and is like i NEED that man (for my next fashion line, and only that, of course). max has never done high fashion modeling so he's a bit out of his depth and everyone KNOWS lewis hand picked him so that creates all sorts of gossip and conflict. George is Lewis' brutally honest personal assistant he was my favorite to write.

it was gonna be chaptered and i wrote 2 chapters and started on the 3rd and motivation just petered out. i do tend to struggle with more long length fics and i didnt originally think it'd be that long, so i just bit off more than i could chew and got fics ideas i was more inspired and invested in~

anyway here is a snippet of them meeting for the first time!

Instead he meets Max after, completely by accident. After the buzz has died down, and half the team has left already, Lewis is walking down the hallway, reading an email on his phone. Oblivious to his surroundings. Until the bathroom door slams open, and Lewis finds himself nearly walking into him. "Sorry! Sorry." Max says, before Lewis watches the realization slowly creep into Max's face. "Oh. You're the guy, yeah?" Lewis would laugh if he wasn't so dumbfounded. "Sorry, I mean," Max clears his throat, "You're the one in charge of this whole...operation. Right?" "I...... suppose that's me, yeah." Max reaches out his hand for the most half-assed handshake of all time. Lewis is so glad George isn't here to witness this train wreck, he'd never let either of them live it down. "Thanks for the opportunity, I guess."  This time Lewis can't hold back the giggle bubbling in his throat. "You guess?"  And Max is almost tripping over his words to backpedal, the slightest tinge of panic in his voice.  "I mean, I am. Thankful, I mean. I'm just not usually the one doing all this, um, networking? I'm not good at it." "But you're good at your job, yeah? Valtteri says you picked up a good runway walk quickly." "Really?" The panic in Max's face disappears as he breaks into a smile. "I was sure I'd lost the gig after that, I felt so awkward."  "He said you were a natural." This is a bit of an exaggeration, but Max doesn't need to know that, and Lewis likes watching him smile. Lewis's phone starts ringing, ending a conversation that probably shouldn't have gone on this long. "Good talk, boss? I'll see you...?" Max gives two awkward thumbs up, before walking away. "Yeah, nice to meet you." Lewis calls out after him. Max gives a non-committal wave without turning around.  Lewis lets the call go to voicemail without realizing.

#ask #she writes #<3 <3 <3 thank u for asking. this fic used to be my baby i'm glad 2 talk about it #ask game #4433 brainrot #HAVENT USED THAT TAG IN A WHILE