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aineryeo · 1 year

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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.”

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sephyathredon-writing · 7 months

Text

Whumptober #4: Shock to the System

Summary: After Ambrosius' mess up at the marketplace, the Director decides to take matters into her own hands. He's allowed to keep heading the expedition to arrest Ballister, but now there's a new piece of jewelry around his neck. What seems like a new piece Ambrosius added to his wardrobe turns out to be a shock collar which the Director will not hesitate to detonate, should she feel he's straying too far from Gloreth's light.

An Entry for Whumptober under the prompt "Shock".

____

Ambrosius was nervous to say the least when the Director called him into her office. He fidgeted with his fingers as he walked down the hallway. He had an inkling of an idea what this all was about.

Todd had gone and ran his mouth again. He wouldn’t put it past him to tell the Director about the incident at the market where he failed to put an arrow into Ballister’s back. He’d told just about everyone else about it and how unfair it was that Ambrosius was the only one with a clear shot and he just froze.

Ambrosius’ anxiety kicked in as he faced the large wooden doors that led into the Director’s office. He breathed unevenly as he pushed them open and strode inside. The Director bid him close the door behind him to give them some privacy, he did as he was told.

He approached the Director’s desk, but she held up a hand for him to stop halfway there. He did as he was told. She stood from her desk and approached him.

“Sir Goldenloin, I take it you must have some idea of why I’ve called you here, correct?”

He nodded his head, avoiding her gaze like a child who knows he’s done something bad.

But he didn’t, he was sure of it. He let Ballister live. He refused to injure him.

“Say it,” she demanded.

Ambrosius directed his gaze at his feet as he spoke. “I had an opportunity to capture Ballister and I let it slip through my fingers.”

The Director paced around him as she spoke. “Exactly. Now, I know the academy didn’t train their knights to hesitate like that.”

“But he’s-” Ambrosius started to retort, but bit his tongue.

The Director leveled him with a stare that told him not to interrupt again. “Perhaps I should have you taken off the mission if he means so much to you. After all, you aren’t thinking clearly when it comes to him, your inaction at the market proves that.”

Ambrosius bit his tongue hard this time, fighting the urge to interrupt. He waited a minute and then spoke. “With all due respect, Director. I don’t think that’s necessary,” he responded, showing every courtesy he could, as he had been taught. “Without me leading this investigation, it falls into the hands of Sir Thoddeus Sureblade, and both of us know he won’t do it right.”

Even worse, he’ll hurt Ballister, possibly even kill him to make the Director happy. He wasn’t sure if Todd was capable of that, but he didn’t want to find out.

The Director was silent for a few moments, she stopped her pacing to go over to her desk and pull something from a drawer. Ambrosius watched her, trepidation showing clearly on his face. She approached him with the item behind her back.

“Sir Goldenloin, I am entirely aware of your relationship with Blackheart,” the Director spoke.

Blackheart. The name that Ballister had been rebranded with. Ambrosius refused to call him that.

The Director reached out and placed her fingertips under Ambrosius’ chin, making him look her in the eyes. It was not strong, she was gently guiding him to look at her. Her expression held kindness and understanding

“It is only natural for you to have worries and doubts about this investigation, to still have feelings for him even after he’s been branded a monster. However, you are our beloved descendant of Gloreth. It is your job to lead the people and to make an example of people who make a mockery of our golden order, of Gloreth’s legacy.

“I know it is hard,” she continued, speaking softly, “that is why I have something to ease the burden.”

Ambrosius was so hypnotized by her eyes that he failed to notice the director snapping something around his neck until it was too late.

“I… huh?” Ambrosius asked, confused. He looked down but he couldn’t see the thing around his neck. Instead he removed a glove and reached a hand up, brushing it against what felt like cool metal all the way around except for a gem that was inset into the front. It seemed ornate and detailed.

Ambrosius’ eyes met hers again.

“Director, I’m not sure I understand. What is a new piece of jewelry going to do to help me?” Ambrosius asked.

“It is not just a piece of jewelry, Sir Goldenloin. Sorry to say it but I have been forced to take precautionary measures. What I have just put around your neck is a shock collar.” She revealed a small controller with a dial in the hand that had been holding the collar previously, “Should I see you straying too far from Gloreth’s light, giving into the monster’s temptations, I will rectify that.”

Ambrosius felt panic rising in his chest at the prospect of the collar shocking him, but he kept hiding his true feelings behind the same old mask he was used to.

“I’m not sure I understand, Director. This is such a drastic measure for one little mistake. Why are you doing this to me?” Ambrosius asked, some slight pauses in his breathing being an indication of his panic.

“It’s for your own safety, Ambrosius. I promise.” The gentle tone was laced in her voice once again. “Normally I would let you off with a warning, but with your inaction at the market, I see you walking down a path that will lead you away from us. The call of a loved one is too tempting for even the strongest man to resist. This is for your own good. If Blackheart got his hands on you, the kingdom would be doomed.”

Ambrosius was quiet for a while, taking this all in. He willed himself to calm down. He came away from his thoughts putting on a determined face and nodding. He understood where the director was coming from, that she meant well.

He was the one to blame for the collar, not the Director.

The Director continued, “You mustn’t tell anyone about it, they might think I’m being unfair. Should you slip and tell someone, I will have to punish you with it. To the public you are just wearing a new piece of jewelry. I pray on Gloreth’s name that I never have to use it for its intended purpose.”

“I do too,” Ambrosius responded, his voice strained.

“You are dismissed,” The Director ordered, going to sit back at her desk.

Ambrosius nodded and turned in place, making his way out of the room.

“Oh, and Ambrosius…” The Director’s voice stopped him in his tracks before he could reach the door.

“Yes, Director?” Ambrosius kept his voice even as he replied without looking back at her.

“You may not take it off until I say you can. If I catch you with it off, you will be subjected to a worse punishment than it can give you, understand?”

“Yes Director.”

“Good. You are dismissed.” she said, sitting at her desk and resuming her work.

As soon as Ambrosius was out of the Director’s sight, he ran.

Ambrosius didn’t stop until he was in the safety of his own room. He passed by Todd on the way who didn’t even have time to ask him about the new piece of jewelry around his neck.

Once he closed the door behind him, he curled up on his bed, his emotions finally showing on his face. Tears fell and as hard as he tried, he couldn’t stop them.

He’d messed up, and now he wouldn’t have the opportunity to mess up again. If he were to go face to face with Ballister again, he couldn’t hesitate, not if he wanted to avoid getting hurt.

Ambrosius tried to slip a few fingers under the collar, but it fit so snugly on him that he couldn’t, almost as if it were made exactly to fit him. As if the institute was worried about their Golden Boy straying from his leash all this time.

Her words about straying from Gloreth’s light echoed in his head. Was she really disappointed in him?

“Gloreth… I’m sorry…”

He waited a few moments.

“Ballister… I’m sorry…”

The last one broke him and he buried his face in his pillow with a sob.

He didn’t know what was going to happen next time he encountered Ballister, but it wasn’t going to be good.

Eventually, he willed himself to get out of bed and prepare for sleep. After brushing his teeth, he got a text.

[The Director of the Institute: Sir Goldenloin, tomorrow you are going to accompany me to the Institute. I have reason to believe that Blackheart may attempt to take my life next.]

The next text had the time and place they would meet up. It was early, even before sunrise. He was used to getting up early, but he didn’t think he could sleep with the collar on, it was too new, too uncomfortable.

The Director had told him not to take it off, though, so he would have to try.

Just as he thought, it took him a while to get to sleep. He was in his own head chasing his thoughts around and around for most of the night. Normally this was when he’d text Ballister and talk it out with him. He knew that Ballister wouldn’t mind being woken up in the middle of the night, if he could ease Ambrosius’ anxiety.

But he didn’t have Ballister around, an unfortunate truth he’d have to live with.

He fell asleep with tears still in his eyes.

His morning routine was the same as usual since he’d lost Ballister. He had to drag himself out of bed, and then he was obligated to spend hours in the bathroom getting his look just right, so he had to wake up before dawn. The biggest difference was the feeling of the shock collar around his neck. Once or twice in the middle of the night he woke up, swearing he was being choked, only to realize it was the collar.

He grabbed a granola bar, eating it on the way to meet up with the Director. He had no time for anything other than a quick breakfast.

He ruminated in his thoughts as he walked, wondering for how long he’d have to keep the collar on for, if he’d be allowed to take it off once Ballister was caught. He tried not to dwell on what would happen if he should come face to face with Ballister again like he had at the marketplace. Hopefully after that incident, he knew to stay away.

And just what had he been doing at the marketplace? He’d been kidnapping the squire that had been there on the day where everything went wrong. This wasn’t the Ballister he knew.

These thoughts continued even as he helped the Director into her carriage, only picking up in volume and internal panic, but he kept them to himself. It wouldn’t do to blow up in front of the Director, she didn’t deserve that.

His fingers traced the gemstone inset into the collar as he sat across from her looking out the window. He caught sight of a billboard as he passed, the faces of Ballister and himself as children staring back at him.

They were painting over Ballister.

They were trying to erase him.

“Something on your mind, Ambrosius?”

He could have said something here, but he didn’t. Like Descendants of Gloreth do, he hid his emotions. Instead he formulated a reply to her in his head.

‘My mind? I’ve lost my mind. I’ve lost everything. The man I love. My best friend. Although now apparently, he’s got a new best friend, what’s that about? What else is he hiding? Who's the real him? Who am I? A direct descendant of Gloreth? I didn’t ask for that.

And now I have this collar on because you can’t even trust me to do this right. Because without it, I’m going to hesitate, like I did at the market. I’m going to fail you, I’m going to fail Gloreth and her legacy.

Everyone expects me to arrest Ballister. If I don’t I’m a traitor to you, and this thing is going to shock me. If I do, I’m a traitor to him.

OH and on top of that, I chopped off his arm. HIS ARM. Who chops off an arm? Because I was trained to? Arm chopping is NOT a love language!’

He would have said all of this directly to the Director if he didn’t fear her response.

“I’m fine, Director,” was what Ambrosius told her instead. A bold faced lie, but it’s not like he hasn’t lied about how he was feeling before.

It wasn’t long before the carriage pulled up to the Institute and the two of them stepped out.

“Stay strong, Ambrosius. The blood of Gloreth runs through your veins.”

----

Ballister wasn’t sure what to expect when he got up to the Institute’s roof. He watched as Ambrosius and the Director stepped out of the carriage. Immediately he noticed an oddity in Ambroisus’ outfit.

Internally, he scoffed. Just a fancy piece of jewelry gifted to him by the Institute..

Except… he knew Ambrosius wasn’t much of a jewelry guy, the man didn’t even wear earrings. There was something almost sinister about the presence of the gold collar around his neck.

Still, he approached Ambrosius and he and Nimona tried to talk things out with him and the Director. All hope was quickly lost when his only evidence was shot out of his hand by Todd Sureblade, who seemed so proud of himself for it.

Their hopes were dwindling as knights filed into the courtyard. They were surrounded on all sides and in the air. The only thing left was to beg for Ambrosius to listen to him.

“It doesn’t matter, you don’t need proof. You know I’m not a murderer,” he tried to reason with Ambrosius.

“What are you waiting for, captain?” There was an edge to the Director’s voice as she spoke and a look of fear flashed across Ambrosius’ face as he glanced over to her before looking back at Bal.

There was a side comment from Todd that Ballister barely heard something about a whale, and then Nimona spoke up, telling Ambrosius to do the right thing.

“Who is she, Bal?” Ambrosius asked as Nimona’s eyes flickered in the bright light, revealing just how different she was. “What is she?”

“This is Nimona, she’s my friend,” Ballister responded, not liking the unsure expression Ambrosius made in response.

“But… aren’t I more than that?” Ambrosius responded, his hand hadn’t moved from the hilt of his sword.

“Of course you are. Ambrosius, I still love you. I just need you to trust me right now. Neither of us are your enemies.”

Ballister knew what a thin line he was walking. One wrong move could dissuade Ambrosius. He had to be careful. He had to get Ambrosius on his side with logic.

He saw Ambrosius’ grip loosen on the hilt, just a little.

“I don’t understand how any of this is relevant, Captain,” the Director responded from beside him. “Did you forget that you’re looking at a monster and his sidekick? She could be a monster too.”

Ballister glanced at Nimona. She didn’t seem to flinch, but he could see it in her eyes, the word ‘monster’ really hurt her.

‘Do NOT call me that.’

Nimona’s words rang in his ears.

“Ambrosius, you know me. You know I am not a murderer. I loved the Queen, and had no reason to kill her.” Ballister locked eyes with him, holding out his prosthetic hand, “You told me you’ve always wanted an escape from this life. Come with me, help me prove that the Director is the one responsible for the Queen’s murder.”

“Ambrosius…” The Director’s tone was clearly a warning. She was facing straight ahead but her gaze was to the side, looking at Ambrosius. Her hands were behind her back.

Ballister saw minor changes in Ambrosius’ posture and expression. His nose scrunched up and he closed his eyes halfway. His jaw clenched too, a sign that he was gritting his teeth. Ballister had known Ambrosius for years, he only ever showed these signs when he was in some kind of physical pain.

Ballister’s eyes went to the collar around Ambrosius’ neck.

“The monster is tempting you, Ambrosius. You are straying from the light, you must resist.” The Director’s tone was commanding.

Ambrosius was frozen in place, his body shaking for a moment before he attempted to hide it by tensing his muscles. He couldn’t hide it from Ballister though.

“Ambrosius, is something wrong? Where did that piece of jewelry around your neck come from?”

Ambrosius opened his mouth to answer and then closed it again, looking at the Director.

“What are you waiting for, captain?” She repeated what she said earlier, “Arrest them.”

Ambrosius closed his eyes, something seemed to hit him hard as he stumbled where he stood. He looked at Ballister and drew his sword. His expression relaxed and all signs of what had affected him previously were gone.

He took a few deep breaths as he stepped toward Ballister.

“Ambrosius, please…” Ballister begged. Despite that, he didn’t step back, he stood his ground. An arm went up in front of Nimona protectively. She didn’t say anything but her eyes were on Ballister, a worried expression on her face.

Ambrosius’ expression was unreadable, just a blank stoic expression. He made eye contact with Ballister and stared so long and hard that it almost felt like the man was staring into his soul.

The look in Ballister’s eye was genuine. He was telling the truth. Ambrosius knew him, so Ambrosius knew the tells that Ballister would inadvertently show when he tried to lie.

“Ambrosius. I am innocent. I am not a murderer.” Ballister made direct eye contact back, holding his ground, a determined look on his face. He wouldn’t flinch, not when Ambrosius was so obviously searching for a reason to believe what he was saying.

Time stopped and the moments where their eyes met seemed to drag on for hours, even though it was likely only a few minutes.

Soon Ambrosius pulled away and nodded his head at Ballister, taking the man’s prosthetic in his hand and standing beside him.

Ballister almost couldn’t believe it, Ambrosius was standing with him.

It made his heart swell with emotion, it made him feel like their love was strong enough to weather even something as disastrous as this. With Ambrosius by his side, he felt like he could do anything.

“I believe him.” The words from Ambrosius, said to the Director, almost brought Ballister to tears. Talking to Ambrosius had actually worked.

The expression on the Director’s face was one of frustration.

“Sir Goldenloin,” Her voice was cold when she spoke to him, eyes not quite staring at Ambrosius, “We talked about this. Should you ever stray from Gloreth’s light, I will rectify it.”

“What does she-” Ballister barely had time to formulate a response.

Ambrosius let go of his hand and crumpled to the ground beside him. He saw the director’s hands, now out from behind her back, in one of them she was holding a little remote control with a dial.

With a dawning sense of dread, Ballister realized what it was.

“It’s a shock-” Ballister started, but was interrupted again, this time by Nimona.

“Really? A shock collar!? Just when I start to think you people can’t sink any lower, you go and do this to one of your own!?” she responded, clearly outraged despite only knowing Ambrosius as an antagonist.

Ambrosius was on the ground, hands grasping at the collar around his neck, hunched over. Cries escaped his lips, one after another in quick succession as tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. Sparks jumped off his armor.

Ballister was by his side in a second, placing his prosthetic hand to Ambrosius’ back, something he immediately regretted as electricity shot up his arm and burned the flesh of his shoulder where it connected. Ballister let out a cry, reeling back.

“Go!” Ambrosius shouted through the pain, “Get out of here!”

“Not without you,” Ballister responded, gritting his teeth as he realized the knights that had them surrounded were getting closer.

“Knights,” the Director began, “Arrest them all.”

They didn’t have much time. They had to act. First priority was getting that collar off of Ambrosius, but they didn’t have the time.

“Boss… what do we do?” Nimona had her fists out in front of her, prepared to fight her way through these knights.

“We need to get him out of here.” Ballister gestured to Ambrosius who was now fully on the floor, curled up on himself. What had once been shouts, now turned to whimpers and cries for help.

Ballister grabbed him, gritting his teeth against the feeling of the electricity flowing through his body. If it lessened the amount that Ambrosius was affected, he didn’t mind.

“Nimona! I need something that flies. NOW!” Ballister shouted.

“You got it!” she responded, and her form grew. Wings, a snout, claws, a tail, but… soft features, big eyes, and that pink coloration that was so Nimona.

A laugh that Ballister sorely needed escaped his lips. He recognized the form. It was Kwispy the Dragon, from the commercial that had been playing the day before on the train.

Somehow, he felt like this had something to do with her not wanting to be perceived as a monster.

Using her tail, she knocked over several of the knights and the Director, being careful not to send them over the edge of the roof to their deaths. As much as Nimona talked about murder, Ballister picked up quickly that she never actually meant it.

She bent down and placed her head on the ground near Ballister. She didn’t even need to tell him to get on before he scrambled up it as best he could while holding Ambrosius. It was awkward to stay seated on top of her neck, but luckily little spikes jutted out that he could keep a hand on while he held Ambrosius with the other.

Just as Nimona took off, Ballister heard the voice of the Director.

“Oh no you don’t!”

Ambrosius jumped in his hold and grabbed on tightly to any handhold he could find in Ballister’s armor, body shaking from the amount of electricity flowing through it. Ballister assumed that she turned the collar’s dial up to max. If the collar didn’t come off, he could easily die.

Ballister could hear the sounds of Hoverbikes in hot pursuit, Knights shooting bolts at Nimona. While Ballister was worried for her, his focus was entirely on his boyfriend suffering in his arms.

“Bal… Ballister… it hurts… I’m sorry… I couldn’t… I couldn’t go against you… like that…” The mumbling continued like that, it sounded like Ambrosius just said anything that came to mind. Words were often interrupted by little whimpers as he spoke. Tears escaped the corners of his eyes, rolling down his cheeks.

Ballister responded in kind, answering his replies, “I know it hurts… You don’t have to apologize… I can’t believe she’d do something like that…”

The mere act of holding Ambrosius was causing him to share the other’s pain. Something he just had to deal with, for now. He wondered if Nimona could feel it too.

Shock collars hadn’t been used in the Kingdom in a long long time. The general consensus was that they were barbaric and inhumane. For the Director to use one on Ambrosius only proved that she was ruthless enough to have murdered the Queen.

It’s not going to settle well with the Knights, and they will talk. It might be a way for his claim to gain credibility, he just wished it didn’t have to happen like this.

This and many thoughts raced through his mind as he searched for a latch on the collar. There was one, but it seemed like it was designed to lock once the collar was activated. There wasn’t any way to get it off. Ballister made a noise of frustration before addressing Nimona

“We need to land somewhere nearby, preferably in the forest. Not near our hideaway, got it?”

A big pink dragon was a little too easy to follow for Ballister’s liking.

“Got it,” she responded, dipping down into the trees. Once she touched the ground, several trees bending around her, she reached her arms up and swatted at the hover bikes circling her. Ballister noticed that she aimed carefully so that the fall would be minimal by the time she let go and they’d land on the forest floor. It wasn’t so much a swipe as it was that she was batting them down.

When the skies were clear, she shrunk, but changed into a larger version of her human form with big arms, so she could carry them both. She set them down on the forest floor before changing into her teenage girl form. She gently plucked out several bolts stuck in her while watching Ballister and Ambrosius. Ballister let go of Ambrosius and stood, unhooking his arm and placing it on the ground. Smoke emitted from under his pauldron, a clear sign of the scarring that was sure to be there.

Ambrosius had spread out on the forest floor, on his back, the cries starting up again as his hands grasped the shock collar in a death grip. His whole body was shaking and his breathing was labored. Tears turned into full on sobs. He was begging for the pain to end now. His voice was raspy. Whether it was from all the screaming or the electricity, Ballister couldn’t tell.

“Nimona.” Ballister called her to his side, looking at her with a sad expression and teary eyes, “Please. There must be some animal you can turn into that’ll get that off of him. Please… I don’t want to lose him…”

Nimona nodded and turned into a crab, scuttling over to Ambrosius and placing a claw to the collar. She could hear Ambrosius suck in a breath in anticipation.

Nimona let out a pained noise as her claw touched the collar, but she squeezed it with all the strength she had and was happy to hear the sound of the collar breaking off of him.

Ballister acted quickly, grabbing it and tossing it away.

Nimona responded by running toward it and shifting into a rhinoceros, stamping over it with her feet. One or two shocks ran over her, but she hardly felt it. The electric field died down as the machine was sufficiently destroyed. When Nimona turned back to herself, she spit on it before returning to the other two.

Ballister had Ambrosius in his arm, holding him close. Aftershocks wracked the man’s body and there were burn marks on his neck. Ballister’s left hand pressed against the back of the other’s head, pushing it against his shoulder. Ballister’s posture was protective.

Before Nimona could get over to the two of them, there was a rustling in the bushes in front of them. Nimona turned into a wolf, anticipating an upcoming fight.

Sure enough, it was a knight that burst through the foliage. It seemed to be one of the ones that had previously been on a hoverbike, but they just stood there. Their helmet was pointed at Nimona at first, but then it looked at Ballister and Ambrosius. Ballister didn’t doubt that their eyes were focused on the angry red burn marks going up and down Ambrosius’ neck.

“Will… the captain be okay?” he asked, sheathing his sword to show that he wasn’t going to attack.

Ballister pulled Ambrosius back and looked at him, trusting Nimona to have his back. He forced himself to look at the burns before looking back up at the Knight.

“Truthfully, I don’t know,” he responded.

The Knight took a step back, “She shouldn’t have done this… especially not to him. I don’t… understand why she would do this.”

“Good. Question that,” Nimona responded, turning back into her human form, “Question the Institute, get others to question it. If they’re willing to do this to their golden boy, what do you think that makes you in their eyes?”

She approached the Knight and they took another step back. They looked over at Ballister and Ambrosius again.

Ambrosius was looking straight at them. His voice was destroyed, but he still spoke.

“She’s right.”

“I…” The Knight looked between the two of them and Nimona, “I’m sorry.” And with that, they left.

In the next moment, Ambrosius’ head fell back and his body relaxed in Ballister’s grip. It caught the other Knight by surprise, but he quickly reassured himself that Ambrosius had fainted, likely from the pain.

Ballister responded by holding him close again, looking over at Nimona.

“You okay?” he asked, concern clear in his voice.

“Me? Pfft, of course I’m okay. Just got a few bolts from the Knights, no biggie.”

“Nimona, You know I’m going to want to wrap those wounds, right?”

She nodded, “But you should worry about him first.”

“You’re right…” Ballister looked at Ambrosius again, feeling a wave of emotion passing over him, almost making him tear up, when he saw the scars. There was a few moments of silence, and then, “Nimona, could you, um, hand me my arm.”

She nodded, “On it boss.” She picked up Ballister’s arm from the grass and handed it to him.

He braced himself when he put it on, gritting his teeth as residual electricity from it flowed through him. Something was definitely wrong. He was surprised it hadn’t overloaded or short circuited yet. Either way, it would really need repairs.

Ballister stood, Ambrosius in his arms. His breathing was shallow and he clung to Ballister as if his life depended on it. His eyes were still closed, indicating that he was still unconscious.

“Let’s just go home.” Ballister’s voice sounded defeated. It had been a long day.

He could feel Nimona’s eyes on his prosthetic.

“I know you’re worried about that, Nimona, but it can wait until we get home.”

She nodded, but didn’t say anything.

The walk back to the hideaway was quiet. Neither of them really felt like talking after having been through all of that. The only thing that was said was the few times when Nimona offered to carry the both of them, or to take Ambrosius off his hands so that Ballister didn’t have to use the prosthetic that was so clearly hurting him.

His response was usually a stubborn “I’ve got him.”

Once they all got home, Ballister removed each and every piece of Ambrosius’ armor, something he’d practically memorized by now with how many times he’s put it on the other. Then he placed Ambrosius gently on the couch and pulled off his prosthetic arm, placing it on his robotics bench for repairs.

Nimona took the blanket from the back of the couch and placed it over him. It was too small for him so it just covered from his mid chest area to his ankles. Ballister knew it wouldn’t do much, but it was a nice gesture.

And here he thought Nimona hated Ambrosius for the whole arm chopping thing. He wondered if maybe she was being so polite because she knew how much he meant to Ballister, or because she sympathized with the shock collar thing.

That last option had some very dark implications.

Luckily for Ambrosius, Ballister had some salve on hand that he had been using for his arm. He groaned when the other Knight began applying it, with his left hand so that he could be gentle.

He was about to put it away when Nimona cleared her throat to get him to look at her and pointed to his right pauldron.

“Ah, right,” Ballister replied.

It stung a lot, but his worry for Ambrosius encompassed his worry over the burns on top of his already healed arm.

He began to shrug off all his armor, deciding he should be out of it as well. His right pauldron and chestpiece were the last to go. He heard Nimona audibly gasp at the sight of the burns directly over the part that had previously been cut by Ambrosius’ sword.

Quickly, she grabbed the salve and began to apply it to Ballister’s arm.

“Thank you for the sentiment, but I can do it myself, you know.”

Nimona shook her head, “I’m doing it for you.”

That was the end of that conversation.

Hours passed until Ambrosius woke up, and even then he wasn’t awake for long, only long enough to gently reach up and cup Ballister’s face, whispering an apology to him. It ached to hear his voice. It was so hoarse because of his throat scars.

Ballister’s mustache curved into a smile and his hand went up to gently hold Ambrosius’, letting him know that there was no reason for him to apologize.

Ambrosius fell unconscious once again.

----

A day passed, Ballister kept applying the salve. He and Nimona caught the news on Ballister’s computer. Though he hated for it to happen this way, it had worked. Knights were questioning why their Director would use such a barbaric device on one of Gloreth’s sacred descendants. It was a ripple effect that led to everyone questioning the institution, the wall, and painting the Director as the person that really killed the queen, just as they had wanted. Ballister’s name was cleared.

He looked back at Ambrosius, He wished it didn’t have to happen like it did.

“Look at that! They’re finally starting to see!” Nimona gestured at the computer and smiled.

Ballister nodded, “Now we just got to get them to see you, for who you really are. I think it might be difficult after you turned into a dragon on top of the institute, but I think we can do it.”

Nimona nodded, tears in her eyes.

----

That night, in the middle of the night, was when Ambrosius finally woke up, fully coherent for the first time since the collar had been used on him.

“Bal!” he called out into the night air, voice scared.

An arm gently enveloped Ambrosius in a hug, and as his eyes adjusted to the dark, he could see Ballister there by the couch. He’d pulled up a rolling chair and clearly had been waiting for him to wake up.

“How are you feeling?” he asked

“Ugh, my throat hurts.” His voice was still hoarse, but that was to be expected. “But I think I’ll be okay… I just… I can’t believe…” he trailed off.

“That she would do that? Me neither.” He could hear Ballister walking away, and moments later the string lights within the hideaway were turned on. He returned to his seat after.

“Bal, she told me that she had to do that, it was punishment for my hesitation at the marketplace. She made me believe I deserved it.”

“How awful… I can’t believe that happened to you…” Ballister replied, finding one of Ambrosius’ hands and holding it tightly. He squeezed back.

“It’s okay. My neck might still hurt, but I am here and I am alive… and I feel like I’m free from the weight of Gloreth’s legacy, from the pressure of everyone expecting me to arrest you. It was… not the preferred way to find freedom, but well… The sting of the shock collar has definitely ensured I won’t be going back to the Director any time soon… As ironic as it seems, this might just be the best thing that happened to me.”

Ballister smiled, “Look at you, always finding the positives.”

Ambrosius laughed, sitting up and grabbing Ballister, much to his surprise. He pulled Ballister into a kiss that lasted as long as he had air for.

“Wow… I uh… I missed that,” Ballister responded.

“Me too.” Ambrosius then grabbed Ballister from the chair and pulled him onto the couch, on top of him. He was careful not to let Ballister’s head touch his neck, instead letting it rest on his chest where he could hear his heartbeat.

“I take it I’m not going anywhere soon, then?”

Ambrosius laughed, “Not a chance, we’ve been apart for too long.”

Nimona found them like that an hour later, fast asleep.

#whumptober2023 #no.4 #Shock #Nimona 2023 #fic #electrocution tw #burns tw #ballister boldheart #ambrosius goldenloin #Nimona #goldenheart

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madaboutmunson · 7 months

Text

Sweet Home Chicago Series - Stupid Cupid (Part 1)

Summary for overview of the whole fic can be found here

For @eddiemonth Week 1 prompts used Parents, Observant, Bad Reputation - Joan Jett & The Blackhearts, Lost, Role Model, Crush, Warm Warnings: None that I could think of, but let me know if you feel any should be added, and I'll do that straight away :) Romance/Fluff Word Count : 13K Ao3 Link

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1959 Little Italy, Chicago

Eddie arrives at night, and unlike Hawkins, this place is still bustling. He can only imagine what it might be like tomorrow. Alive, vibrant and diverse. Everything back home wasn't. Wayne has driven him all the way here. Even though he said several times he had the money and was fine taking the bus alone, his uncle didn't want to hear it. Besides, it would be an excellent opportunity to catch up with Eddie’s Mom.

Eddie knew this was a half-truth. Wayne was a worrier, even though it cost him time and money for gas and food at rest stops. It at least meant that he knew Eddie was safe. It did give him a chance to catch up with his Mom, but this wouldn’t be a chit-chat. Wayne didn’t mean to be judgemental, but Eddie knew he wanted to check the place out, make sure his Mom was okay, and that Eddie would be OK here.

Eddie was eighteen now, a man. He’d often told Wayne he didn’t need him protecting him and his mother henning around him. But he knew that was a lie, too. Eddie was too different to not run into trouble, and they both knew that, even if Eddie had set his mind to starting over and being someone brand new in a place where he had a clean slate. He didn't have to be the loud, weird, bad kid here. He could be the quiet, unassuming budding author, and people would like him for that, not be put off by his previous self.

Eddie was evolving. He could use this place to settle in and to mault. Rid himself of his disfunctions become healthy and normal. That's how you get ahead in life. An easy life.

He was so nervous. It had been some time since he’d seen his mom in person, though they generally stayed in touch with occasional phone calls, letters or parcels. In the last ten years since she left, maybe five Christmases and three birthdays. But she always called him.

Since he’d hit his teens, Wayne had little to discuss with his mom that Eddie couldn't communicate himself, other than the bad stuff that Eddie always conveniently left out.

Eddie had been a good kid. He just had a less-than-ideal start in life. His father was in and out of life more often than the changes of school term. There was no nice way of saying it. His dad was a criminal. Specifically a conman. His specialities lay in being charming, blending in and rustling up disguises out of basically nothing. Maybe if he had chosen the right path when he hit that fork in the road of life, he could have been a phenomenal actor. He easily imitated voices, sounds, and mannerisms, effortlessly embodying characters like donning or doffing his hat. Which made the rare bedtime stories he told masterpiece performances.

From what Eddie can recall of his parents' relationship, it was very loving, but they seemed to be stuck in the cycle of teenage love and angst over and over. One day, they would be dancing around the kitchen, gazing at one another across the table, hardly touching their food at all, or curled up on the sofa together like two love-sick kids. But the next could be a complete warzone, arguments over the same things, either his dad’s risky next job or his mom’s failure to keep a steady one. Maybe none of that would have been a problem for the two of them, but when the third part of that equation was a young, hyperactive, attention-starved, anxiety-riddled son, it just fueled the fire.

His Mom and Dad never called him a mistake, and they did give him the love they could spare, but they were very young, and Eddie came along before they’d even caught a glimpse of the vague edge of their dreams. Neither of them had great relationships with their parents. His Dad’s were distant. Disowned him for his sinful way of life, being the god-fearing people they were. His Mom doesn't even remember her mom, she only remembers her Dad, who was essentially her best friend her whole life until the Munsons muscled into the scene, and he wanted better for her. When they ran away to get married against everyone’s advice, it broke her Dad’s heart, and they never spoke in person again. Eddie guesses it made sense they would cling to one another when they must have felt like flotsam just bobbing about in the world, lost and alone.

Eddie’s dad, criminally charming as he was, never strayed from his mom. Never looked at another woman twice. His dad said that was because he had never met a girl like his mom before in his life.

When the Munson’s arrived in Indiana, it was tough. Tougher for outsiders. That was just the way Hawkins always was. Tough as old boots. But thankfully, the Munsons lucked out because the nearest house to theirs was owned by a kind, neighbourly mechanic Widower with an only daughter.

Eddie loved hearing how his Dad’s voice would change when he remembered his mom from their youth. He, his mom and Wayne became fast friends, roaming around Hawkins together. A happy outsider trio, going on adventures, star and cloud gazing together, cannonballing into the lake. He’d recall his mom, Esmerelda, or Em as he liked to call her, was not only fun, but she could shoot better than any he knew. She would have made a great sniper. Plus, she could strip and reassemble a car engine in record time. Only sported a dress for church on Sundays. The rest of her time, she wore pants, a shirt and braces like the rest. Though usually covered with a streak of engine oil, dirt or flour. The cherry on top was just how beautiful she was. Big, piercing green eyes and long, luscious dark waves of hair that bounced around her face as she outran them both through the fields playing tag.

The three of them were thick as thieves, but as they moved into their teens, Al started to peel off into the more real dangerous side of things, which got him kicked out, and that left his Mom and Wayne, still reading stories, and letting their imaginations run riot in the skies above them at the lakeside, or inventing future dream lives for themselves on the tire swing at the Munson’s.

But the day finally came when Al got brought home by the sheriff himself. They banned him from town, so he was plunged back into Wayne and his Mom’s life with a thump. His parents wanted nothing to do with him, so his Mom’s father let him stay in a barn on his land. Though the three spent most of their days together as kids, Al seeing Esmerelda in her everyday home life enabled him to see more sides of her. Not just showing off, being goofy or tough, but kind, careful, generous, and protective. That's when he realised it wasn’t just the friendship he felt for her and decided he should do something about it. So one night, he sent Wayne back to the house for some sodas, which Wayne argued with him over, didn’t want to do at all, nearly ruined the moment, and as soon as he was out of sight. Al made his move. Shuffled closer on a hay bale and kissed her on the cheek, and as he liked to say, the rest is history.

Then he’d turn to Eddie and say, “One day, Eddie, you’re gonna meet a girl, and Cupid is gonna line you up in his sights and pow, it’ll be over for you.” Eddie would be so scared, his dad would chuckle and pull him into his lap, “I’m sorry, son, it’s not that scary, but you’ve got the genes of your mom and me. You’re a hopeless romantic on both sides, but that just means you’ll find your one easily,” he’d tap him on the chest, “Your heart is so full of love it’s gonna shine so bright for them, they’ll see it from miles away.”

Eddie didn’t realise at the time how dysfunctional his family was. When they weren’t arguing, they had the most fun together, but some of the things he thought were games weren’t that at all. They would play the weeks-long hide-and-seek game with his dad, but Eddie mustn’t tell anyone else about it. Otherwise, the game would be over. The scavenger hunts that either they would lay out for his Dad or he and his mom would follow, the prizes always being wads of cash. Or the big box of dress up he and his mom sometimes had to rifle through and take outfits to his dad so he could play too. That was the last game he remembered them playing together.

His dad had told Eddie and his mom that he’d had a vision about work, how something might go wrong. So they were to meet him at a gas station to play pretend. Though Eddie was excited, he couldn’t figure out why his mom was so upset.

His mom had made new outfits, especially for the occasion: a priest, a nun and a choirboy. They parked around the back of the building, already in their costumes, and waited for hours. Until there was a screech of tires, the sounds of yelling and running. His mom had grabbed the brown paper bag and Eddie and ran from the car to the outdoor toilet, and they hid behind the wall. In seconds, his dad appeared with a massive smile on his face, “Look at you, my angels.” he laughed, grabbed the bag, and kissed his mom before disappearing into the toilet.

More cars were pulling up, but there was more yelling and slamming. He even heard someone shouting bad things about his dad until his mom covered his ears with her hands and pulled silly faces at him until he smiled.

Then came the sirens and gunshots. Eddie remembers being so scared until his dad reappeared, “Hey buddy, it’s ok. We’re gonna pretend we’re going to church now. So just put your hands together like when you say your prayers, close your eyes, and we’ll be on our way before you know it.” He beamed a huge toothy grin at him. Eddie could see dark grease in his hair. It almost made it look jet-black. Eddie did as he was told, the other noises continued, but he kept walking until someone lifted him into his seat.

That was the last time he saw his dad. Heard from him a few times and got a couple of things through the post, birthday and Christmas gifts, usually a few months late, but as Wayne would remind him, it’s the thought that counted.

There is something strange in the space between them in the car as they pull up outside the address she’d given them. All the buildings crowded around one another, and looming over them felt like a stark contrast to the feeling within the vehicle.

Wayne kills the engine, “Ed, if you ain’t sure bout this, it’s no trouble at all to drive ya home. I’m going back anyway.” He speaks the words up at the large building.

Eddie does actually think about it, the fear of the unknown creeping up his spine. Then he looks at Wayne. He looks tired, “Yeah,” he replies, trying to hide the crack in his voice, “I’m sure. A fresh start somewhere new, I can be someone else.” He looks up into the night sky as if asking the stars to make it so.

He feels his uncle’s hand on his shoulder, “Eddie,” Wayne’s voice is quiet and full of a soft sadness, “You ain’t gotta be no one else. There ain’t nothin’ wrong with ya. You were just a kid whose life was flipped around. You did the best ya could, son.” Wayne's soulful eyes shine in the darkness.

“I coulda been less trouble,” Eddie says with a sweet half-smile to try and lessen the weight of this conversation, “I coulda been good, made things easier for myself. Coulda not had the sheriff and neighbours knocking at your door.”

“Our door,” Wayne adds and shakes his head, with a huff of acceptance, “Kid, I just want ya to know, I’d take a hundred knocks on our door at any hour, as long as you were there with them. Safe. At home,” Wayne adds, he turns away from Eddie and looks out the window, “The only good thing I ever heard about this city, Ed, was that your mama done well for herself. Everything else was bad news.”

“Uncle Wayne,” Eddie says cautiously, but the word uncle makes Wayne’s head snap towards him. He’d been calling him Wayne mostly, but when he was little, sick or upset, he used uncle as a small plea for his comfort and support. “I came here to start over. I’m not interested in getting into trouble, joining greaser gangs, or getting into drink or drugs. I just want a chance to see more. Experience more without a brand on my forehead telling everyone I'm different. In Hawkins, I stick out, here there are so many differences no one is gonna notice lil’ ol’ me,” he smiles fondly at his uncle, “I'm gonna write a book and illustrate it, and when I make my fortune. I'm gonna come get you outta Hawkins, and me, you, mama, and pa are gonna live somewhere so grand.” His dreams widen his smile at Wayne, who offers a slight shrug of a smile back.

“Well, I ain’t never been one to stand in the way of anyone's dreams, so I reckon we better get up there before your mama falls fast asleep,” Wayne gets out of the car and gets Eddie’s cases.

Eddie shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath before opening the door and stepping out into Chicago.

He inhales deeply again, letting the city saturate his lungs, with all its good and bad. The buildings around here were so vast and gigantic that it made him feel small, but for once, that felt good. He grins up at the lights still flooding the night, some from apartments and restaurants, some from cars driving by, and the faint sound of jazz on the wind whips around the place.

He walks around and takes the cases from Wayne, “I got this old timer,” which puts a genuine smile on Wayne’s face as they make their way to the large brick building.

He could clearly see three floors from the sidewalk, though, on approach, it looked like there might be an attic right at the top and a basement down below. On one side of the building was a set of hard stone steps that bypassed the apartment at street level and went up to the main middle floor he could see.

Eddie halts at the two big main doors like this threshold will tear him asunder, let him leave the old bad boy Eddie behind, and only leave behind the good. He sets down one case, but his hand shakes as he reaches for the handle. Soon, he feels Wayne’s hand on his shoulder again. He turns to look at him, “You got nothing to lose. Home isn’t going anywhere. You can always come back,” Wayne smiles warmly at him, and Eddie takes hold of the handle and opens the door. As he steps into the cold, tiled hallway, he feels the warmth of Wayne’s hand leave him. As he turns, he finds his uncle neatening himself up, Straightening his tie, smoothing down his jacket, and rearranging the flowers in his hand, which were starting to look a little sorry for themselves.

Eddie looks at the numbers on the doors, and it seems they have another floor to get to his mom’s place. Eddie notices on the group of mailboxes as they pass that she hasn’t opted to change her surname, and something about that makes him feel good. Despite their distance and his dad's behaviour, it wasn’t so bad she needed to cut them off entirely.

As they reach the door of her apartment, Eddie’s anxiety takes full hold, he feels his breathing shudder, and the muscles in his back burn with a new tension. He thumbs at the ring on his finger that was a going-away gift from Wayne. He’d found it in a hide on a hunt the day after Eddie told him he wanted to leave and said he thought it was a sign. It was a simple silver signet ring that Eddie had to tape up to fit his slender fingers. He kept it on his index finger so his thumb could easily reach it. The repetitive movement, who gave it to him and the gift sentiment all helped bring him back down to earth a little. He’d been using it the whole way here.

“You know what could be fun? If she sees me first, then I step aside to reveal you? Lord knows I won’t get a word in once she’s got holda ya,” Wayne beams at him, and Eddie nods, in the full knowledge Wayne was gonna take this first step for him.

When Wayne had offered to take care of Eddie, it had been because he’d been left at his grandparents for a spell whilst his mom found her footing in the city. Eddie’s grandparents were the first people he met who branded him bad simply because he was energetic and was born of two delinquents, as they called them. Wayne had told his mom, who moved Eddie to her Dad’s, and everything was fine until he started getting sick. So Wayne worked on vehicles with his Mom’s father, cared for him and Eddie and never complained. Eddie couldn’t be that good, not as good as Christian as Wayne, but he tried. He was kind to people and animals, said his prayers, and helped around the house, but school and that kind of life were too restrictive for his imagination. Wayne plied him with fantasy books and art supplies, and they worked for a while until the differences started showing.

He was supposed to like cowboys, not knights. He was supposed to play soldiers, not sorcerors.

His Mom came back for his grandpa’s funeral but didn’t stay. She took money and trinkets and left the house, land, and everything else for him and Wayne. That’s how it had been for the last ten years. Just him and Wayne in his Mom’s old house.

The combination of grief and being in opposition with his peers had sparked a rebellion within Eddie. He was supposed to like pop music and country, not blues and rock’n’roll. He was supposed to wear his hair short, but he preferred it longer. He should have had a pick-up. He had a motorcycle. He was a one-man gang for a while, glaring at anyone who gave him a second look, spooking locals with sinister tales until he was othered because he wanted to be. Then, a few others flocked to him, and he had his own mini band of brothers. But they got out of control. It took a few sheriff visits and a near fire to reign Eddie back in and ultimately sparked this decision to move.

Wayne knocks gently on the door, the bouquet of flowers held in front of him more like a shield than a gift. The other hand behind his back reaches for Eddie’s arm.

“Yeah?” A deep, booming voice rings out from behind the door.

“Uh, apologies, we’re looking for Ms, um, Mrs Munson. Must have the wrong place,” Eddie hears the slight tremble in Wayne’s voice and feels his hand grip his arm tighter.

The metallic sound of latches being hurriedly undone fills the hallway, the increase in speed matching Eddie’s heartbeat, until the door is wrenched open and Eddie sucks in a breath in anticipation, but with Wayne in front of him, Eddie doesn't see much at first.

“Wayne!” An excited voice calls out before she leaps into a bear hug squeeze, and Eddie laughs when he hears the faint crunch of the flowers.

“He came?” He hears his mom say in disbelief as Wayne is shoved to the side, and there she is. Older but more beautiful than he remembers.

She’s a small woman, a smirk in the place of a smile, but it radiates joy all the same. On top of her head, her jet black curls are piled on top of one another in an untamed bun, a scarf is neatly folded into a headband of sorts and tied around her head, at the top in a small bow, from under which a set of shorter curls spill out and frame her emerald eyes, rounded nose and delicate jawline.

Her hands reach forward and grab Eddie’s face, and she plants kisses on his cheeks, too many for him to count, leaving them both giggling as she moves her rough hands away and steps back again to get a good look at him, “Oh sweetheart, look at you! You look so grown up with your little suit on,” Her hand raises to her mouth, and Eddie thinks he can see the start of tears brimming, but she quickly averts her eyes to Wayne and waves them inside, “Come in. Come in. I’ll, um, show you to your room so you can drop your bags in,” As she shuts the door behind them, her arm braces around Eddie’s shoulders and pulls him in for a side hug, “I can’t believe you’re finally here sweetie, oh my goodness you are gonna love it. Sorry everywhere is a little empty, I um, I only just moved into this apartment from upstairs. Here we are,” she says excitedly, then stops, gives him another squeeze, and gestures into a plain looking room.

The wooden floor is adorned with a mishmash of rugs, there is a single metal framed bed, a desk which he can see has been stocked with stationary, a full-length mirror attached to a tall wardrobe, and next to a tall chest of drawers, on top of which sits a record player.

“I didn't wanna do too much. This is your room, so you can decorate it as you like, and I can get rid of anything you don't want or like, don't worry about that. Just wanted you to have what I figured might be essentials.” She releases him and opens up the wardrobe, “I got you a set of towels, and um,” she moves over to the chest of drawers, “Some new socks and underwear. I hope I got the size right. I did try to remember the numbers your uncle gave me,” she smiles, and Eddie begins to see how nervous she is.

“Wow, it's so great. Thank you, Mama, I mean, Mom,” Eddie corrects himself, trying to sound a little more grown up. He puts his cases down by his bed and almost removes his hat before looking nervously at Wayne and then his mom.

“What's wrong, sweetheart?” She asks, a little worried, looking between Eddie and Wayne.

“Who else is here?” Eddie asks quietly.

His mom looks at him quizzically, “No one, sweetie. It's just us.”

“But the voice at the door,” he says, pointing back to the hallway.

“Ohhhh,” his Mom says in realisation, cups her hands to her mouth and booms out, “You mean this voice?”

Eddie's shoulders relax, and he nods and laughs, shaking his head.

“Is that what you were worried about, honey?” She asks again, but Eddie shakes his head, unable to find the words.

“Emmie,” Wayne starts and looks at Eddie with a reassuring smile, “The boy doesn't much like the barbers.”

Her worry fades, and she smiles mischievously, gesturing at her hair, “Me neither.”

Eddie carefully removes his bakerboy-style hat that hid his hair and takes the clips out so that his dark waves of hair fall around his face. It’s not long like his mom’s, but it's long enough to reach the top of his shoulders.

His mom lets out a tiny squeal of delight, “Oh my goodness, you look like a little angel. Sorry, I mean, your hair looks very handsome on you, Eddie.”

“I like it this way, but I know it's not what others like. So I keep it tucked away.” Eddie advises.

“Well, no need to do that here, sweetheart,” she beams at him and takes down her hair. This is our home, and you can be yourself here, ok? You’re whole true self,” her eyes dart to Wayne nervously and back to Eddie, “I mean, your Chicago home, you know. Not like your home-home.” She laughs awkwardly, “You know what? I’ll rustle us up a quick supper and leave you boys to it.”

Eddie busies himself unpacking, and Wayne doesn’t speak until his mom’s footsteps fade away. He strolls around the room and looks out of the window, out onto the city.

“Nice view,” he says.

Eddie snorts out a laugh, “Say what you really wanna say, Wayne.”

Wayne turns around and starts picking up the clothes Eddie is laying on the bed and transferring them to the wardrobe hangers or drawers for him, “Just promise me if you wanna come home, you’ll call, ok? Don’t matter the time. I’ll come get ya as soon as I can. It ain’t no failing just ‘cus a place is too much for ya. It’s a big change, Ed, and you ain’t like ya mama. She’s like a damn rubber ball the way she bounces back from every knockdown.”

“I promise,” Eddie smiles at Wayne’s protectiveness, “Maybe you can’t see it, but maybe in a bigger place, I won’t stick out so much? I’ll stand a better chance slipping under the radar here than I did in Hawkins.”

Wayne hums in that grumbly fashion he does when he knows he has to agree with Eddie but doesn’t want to.

“Let me just try, and I promise, I won’t hesitate to call if things start to go wrong,” Eddie reassures him.

Wayne tilts his head into view to receive the last of his knitted jumpers, “Even if that’s tomorrow?”

Eddie rolls his eyes and laughs, “Even if that’s tomorrow.”

Once all the clothes are away, they sit together around the kitchen table and demolish the plate of sandwiches between them. Eye-opening stories for each of them, some about baby Eddie, some about his mom and Wayne’s adventures, some tales from Wayne about older Eddie’s misadventures, and even some about his Mom starting out in the city. They laugh and share fond smiles until his Mom lets out a yawn, “I’m so sorry, I’ve been up since five this morning,”

“Sorry, Darlin’, I didn't realise the time. I should get goin’,” Wayne says as his eyes nervously dart to Eddie before focusing back on cleaning away the dishes.

“Now, Wayne, you haven't gotta do that, it’s fine!” “I won’t hear non’ a that. You made the food. I can sort the dishes before I head off,” Wayne says, collecting the plates.

Eddie watches his Mom play nervously with the hem of her shirt, “You know, Wayne, it’s kinda late. You could stay if you want to? I’ve got a camp bed or the sofa. You can take my room,”

“Absolutely not! It's Eddie’s first day in the city tomorrow, and he don’t need a shadow. Needs to make his own way,” Wayne says, clearing his throat afterwards.

Eddie feels that familiar nervous swirling in his stomach as he realises he hadn't spent more than the occasional sleepover or overnight camping trip away from Wayne in the last ten years.

This was really it.

Suddenly, he felt lost, like he was drifting away from his mooring into the unchartered waters. Nausea was a very real and present sensation. Eddie quickly gets out of his seat to help Wayne with the dishes. He stands shoulder to shoulder with him, sending him an occasional smile while humming one of Wayne’s favourite songs.

Before they know it, the dishes are done, and all that is left is goodbye.

“Don’t wave me off. Stay up here, get a cocoa in ya, and off to bed. That's an order for both of ya,” Wayne tries to joke, but Eddie can hear a slight tremble in his voice, “So um, if anything, call me, ok, doesn’t matter what it is, like I said-”

Eddie pulls him in tight for a tight squeeze as he bites back his tears against Wayne’s shoulder, “Gonna miss you,” Is all Eddie can manage.

“I’m gonna miss you like crazy, son.” He squeezes him back harder, “And speaks into his hair, “And if anything happens to you out here, you have my solemn vow, I’ll raze Hawkins to the ground, cus it’s that stupid fuckin’ town that took you away. I’ll give them hell until the end of my days.”

“He’s gonna be ok, Wayne. I promise,” Eddie hears his mom attempt to reassure him.

His uncle squeezes him tightly one more time, pats him on the shoulders, and moves back to look at him, tears in both their eyes. Wayne swallows and wipes his eyes before turning to his mom, “Emmie, it was good to see ya. Uh. See ya later, Ed,” he says, shakes his hand, nods his goodbye to him, and leaves.

Eddie rushes to the window of his room. In the dark, he finally lets his tears fall as he watches his weeping uncle drive away.

“Gotcha, that cocoa, you’re uncle suggested, pretty plain, I’m afraid. Tomorrow, I’ll pick up some marshmallows.” he hears her set the mugs down, “May I?” She asks, and Eddie only weakly nods as he finds himself crying in his mother's arms for the first time in eleven years.

Eddie didn’t sleep well that night; he was not used to the noise, and his worries wouldn’t let him rest even if it were as quiet as back home.

He lays awake in bed, waiting to hear his Mom get up. He checks his watch, gives her five minutes, and then joins her.

“Morning Sweetheart, want some coffee?” He hears her call out as he walks to the bathroom.

“Yeah, that would be great, thank you,” he rolls his eyes a little at himself at how formal he’s being, but he’s just trying to be polite.

He makes his way to the kitchen and finds not just a coffee but a plate of scrambled eggs, too.

“You still like eggs, right?” She asks with an awkward smile.

Eddie nods happily, “Yeah. I do. Thank you.” He tucks his pajamaed self in by shuffling his chair forward with a squeak against the floor, and he instinctively winces, “Sorry.” He glances slightly up at her from the corner of his eye. She’s probably regretting this already.

She moves from the counter and sits beside him, “Hey, you didn't do anything wrong. You’re fine, honestly.” He raises his eyes to her piercing green ones, and she gives him that sweet smile of hers, “Listen, sweetheart, I get we don’t know one another too well. That’s on me. I love you, always have, and always will. Even though maybe I didn’t show it in all the ways a mother should,” she cautiously reaches her hand over his, and he pushes his hand into hers, “But I want to get to know you, as you are. Wayne filled me in on a lot, and I just want to repeat, this is our, um, Chicago home, right? And behind this door, you are one hundred per cent okay to be one hundred per cent yourself, even if you can’t do it out there. I know I can’t.”

“You can’t?” Eddie says, and he realises his voice sounds small, unlike the eighteen-year-old man he’s supposed to be.

“No way. Are you kidding me?” she laughs, “I’ve built myself from nothing here. I can do the jobs I wanna do. Manual work that doesn’t involve putting on a full face of makeup or putting up with sleazy guys. Sorry, too much. Uh. What I’m trying to say is if I acted my true, daydreaming, singing, ditzy self out there, even though I do every job I take on extremely well, no one would take me seriously. I wouldn’t be a person to call for people that live around here. I wouldn’t have been trusted to take on maintenance for this building and get this bigger apartment,” she squeezes his arm and softens her voice, “but when I step through that door. I drop all those masks. I’d go crazy if I didn’t,” she smiles at him, “and I don’t need a crazy man in my home. So just be yourself, sweetheart. Wayne has filled me in on some things you’re dealing with, but I won’t make you talk about them unless you want to. I know you want a fresh start. Just like I did when I got here, I want this home to be your springboard to your dreams, Eddie. Everyone deserves to try.”

Something about that sets Eddie more at ease, “Got it, M-mom,” he corrects, and she raises an eyebrow at him, “Mama.” He says with a happy smile, and she nods.

“Better?” She asks.

“Yeah,” he says as he moves his hand on top of hers and squeezes it, kissing her on the cheek, “Tons better,” he says, picking up his cutlery to eat. Against his better judgement, he eats exactly as he would at home, pretty much inhaling the food on the plate, as his Mom laughs and gets up to pour another coffee for herself.

“So I got a few jobs to do today. I know you said you didn’t want me chaperoning and wanted to discover the place for yourself, but I also promised Wayne I’d keep you safe, and obviously, I want that, too. So, I thought maybe you could do some shopping for me, stick to the area. I’ve even put the names of the stores down for you. When you’re done, if you want to roam around, don’t stray too far from Taylor Street, ok. That’s the kind of hub of this area, and it’s the community I know,”

“Yeah, I read about that. Is it just all Italians ‘round here then? Because of the name,” Eddie asks, finishing his last mouthful and picking up his coffee.

“No, not really. There are people from all over. Well, at one point in their family tree, but most of the people your age around here are born and bred in Chicago. It’s fascinating, really. You’re gonna have tons more things to inspire you here,” She smiles and pushes him over a piece of note paper with some money, “Feel free to grab yourself some lunch out of that too. Keep the change for yourself. Don’t wanna deprive my little wordsmith of anything,” She smiles at him in a way he’s seen before somewhere in his distant memories and something that reminds him of Wayne. She’s proud of me, he thinks to himself, and that surges him into action.

He quickly cleans the dishes and gets ready for the day. His Mom kisses him goodbye, leaving him at his desk for a while, pondering out his window. Watching people come and go, he decides to wait an hour or so for it to quieten down. He spends time sketching out some people on the street and the buildings. His mom was right. This place had so much going on it was impossible not to be inspired, and an urge to get amongst it all sweeps over Eddie. He pins up his hair, hiding it under his hat, grabs his satchel, dumping in his art and writing supplies. Rushes into the kitchen to pick up his keys, money and jacket.

He gives the door a shove to make sure he’s shut it properly, and confident in that, he tries to step away but finds himself yanked back because he’s closed his jacket in there. Eddie rolls his eyes at his clumsiness and unlocks the door again, releasing his jacket and closing and rechecking it. He takes a breath, starts over, and makes his way down the stairs to the foyer, tips his hat and smiles at his new neighbours as he passes.

It’s not until he steps outside that anyone stops him.

“Ey! You new around here, ain’t ya?” a deep voice calls out after him. Eddie’s heart is pounding. This is the first person he’s going to officially meet here as the new him. He puts a friendly smile on his face and turns to greet them.

It’s a guy who looks about his age with blond hair, most of which is slicked back in a pompadour style save for a solitary ringlet that fell down his forehead. A cigarette limply hangs from his lips as he mirrors Eddie's smile and uses his shoulder to push himself from the wall he is leaning against.

“Morning,” Eddie chirps back, “Yeah, uh, just got here last night.”

“Oh really?” He tilts his head and looks Eddie over, “Huh.” He steps forward and grabs Eddie’s satchel.

Eddie feels immediately flustered by the intrusion and how quickly this guy got into his space. He tries to laugh it off, “Hey, easy there,” he says, tugging his bag back and taking a few steps down the staircase from the man.

“Easy there,” he mimics and laughs, “You one of those squares from the university?”

Eddie tries to smile again, even though he can feel his old self just beneath the surface, ready to knock out this guy’s teeth. It must have been some sort of dumb prank, “No, I just wanted to try the city out.”

“Oh, you’re a hick?” The guy asks, narrowing his eyes. His grin grows to something sly as if he knows he’s pushing Eddie’s buttons. He jumps down to the step Eddie is on with a thud, takes a long draw on his cigarette, and blows the smoke in Eddie’s face. Eddie waves it away with his hand, making him throw back his head and laugh.

Eddie bites the inside of his cheek, repressing the urge to retaliate, turns his glare away and starts down the stairs again.

“Hey! I’m not done talking to you!” He shouts after Eddie.

“Oh, I think we’re done here, buddy,” Eddie waves back with a forced laugh.

”Was that your old man last night? Crying in his car like a little bitch?” He shouts louder after Eddie.

That does it. Eddie wipes his hand down his lower face to contain the bubbling rage within him. No one talks about Wayne like that. Not this fucker, not anyone.

What he wouldn’t give to be able to launch himself back up these stairs and send that dick crashing down them with his fist. But he’s not gonna let this asshole ruin his new start.

He turns back and looks up at him. “Ah, there he is,” the guy says with a weird sort of relief and a satisfied grin.

“You know, friend, maybe you shouldn’t be peering in the car windows or old men at night. You’ll get yourself a reputation,” Eddie shouts back at him and watches the guy’s face drop as a passing group of kids giggle at him.

Eddie smirks up at him and sends him a wink before continuing his day, leaving him standing dumbly on the staircase.

This place was incredible. Eddie gets most of what his mom has asked for on the list from the locations on the small map she drew him. The grocery shop was the place nearest home and looked like the heaviest order, so he’d save that for last.

He circles back and drops in the light bulbs and various cleaning stuffs, and as it’s nice out, instead of staying cooped up inside, he decides to sit on the stairs and sketch some of the scenes around him as he munches on the sandwich from the deli.

He spots a group of girls over by a bench. Two are sitting down. One a light brown Italian-style haircut, like Sophia Loren, her big blue eyes bore into the pages of the book she's reading. Beside her is another girl trying to get something out of her light, mousy brown hair. Though their purposes seem different, they seem to be conversing, and the third, a girl with red hair, has decided to pretend the kerb is a tightrope and keeps her balance walking along it.

Eddie smiles to himself and gets to drawing. He should be trying to think of a main character for his story and draw that, but the inspiration hasn’t hit him yet. This place has too much he wants to capture. Maybe he should see if his mom has a camera or something.

Lost in the piece's details, he overlooks the shadow looming over him, and he’s too late to grab his sketch pad as it is snatched away from his lap.

“Hey!” Eddie shouts and tries to grab it back, but the problem quickly becomes evident. It's the guy from earlier, only he has two other guys with him this time.

“Geez, what even is this shit,” he sneers at Eddie's drawing and shows it to his friends, who laugh along with him.

Eddie is so over this bullshit already, “Ok, you don’t like it. Fine. Just give it back, ok? And I’ll get away from your stairs, or whatever it is that's making you so upset,” he sighs and extends his hand towards him.

The blonde glares right into his eyes. He licks his teeth and spits on the ground before looking back at Eddie. A sinister smile spreads over his face again as he holds the pad aloft and turns his attention to the girls, “Hey! Ladies! Did you know you were all being perved on by some creep?” he yells over to them.

Eddie springs into panic, waving his hands in front of him. “Oh my god, no. It's not like that at all. I swear,” he frantically pleads with them as they frown at him and walk away, leaving the guys cackling amongst themselves. Great. Day one, and he’s already a fucking creep. What the fuck was this guy’s problem, anyway.

The guy plucks the cigarette out of the freckled boy's mouth and stubs it out on Eddie’s sketch pad, “Oops, better put that out, hadn’t I?” he drops the pad to the steps, stomps on it, grinds his boot into the pages and kicks it over to Eddie.

Eddie’s blood is boiling with rage, but he also feels like he could erupt into tears simultaneously. This was absolutely fucking ridiculous. Why couldn’t he just have this chance? Maybe he’d been so bad all the gods and the universe decided he doesn't get a do-over, and he has to pay for all the trouble he caused.

He looks at the trio and wonders if this is how Hawkins saw him and his gang. A cloud of terror just drifting to cause trouble and leave. Though Eddie never bullied anyone, he did annoy most businesses in town with his antics.

He picks up the pad and dusts it off, putting it in his bag, and he’s about to walk away, but he just can’t help himself. He turns back, eyes this dickhead with absolute disgust, “What is your problem with me anyway? I just got here. I’m not looking for trouble or trying to muscle in on anything you’ve got going on,”

They laugh, and the freckled one smirks, “How the fuck could you muscle in on anythin’? Look atcha. Nothing but an itty bitty weakling,” he jeers.

The one with shorter, cropped blond hair and narrow, icy blue eyes mimics him, “What's your problem with me anyway?”

The main guy has a satisfied smirk, “I’ll tell you what the problem is,” he says, grabbing Eddie by the shirt and pulling him in close, but Eddie doesn't cower and does not retaliate, just coldly stares right back at him.

The guy looks Eddie’s face up and down. Like a closer inspection, now he's only inches away from it, “My problem is, I don’t like creeps on my block,” then he leans in to whisper in Eddie’s ear, “And also…I know what you are…Freak!”

Eddie’s stomach churns at the thought of what this guy could have already deciphered about him so quickly. Could he just be talking about the drawings, that he wasn't from here, or he wasn’t dressed right?

He jolts backwards out of his grip as the guy smugly tilts his chin in the air, the victor.

Not wanting to add to today's problems, Eddie simply gathers his things and decides to get the groceries.

The group blocks his path down the stairs, saying, “I’ve got things to do. So if you kindly let me pass, I can be on my way,”

“Don't be too long, now. We’ll be here waiting for when you get back,” the main stocky guy teases.

Eddie hurriedly bustles his way past them, briskly walking away, and doesn't look back. Not even once, as his pulse thunders in his ears. The city seems to swell and contract as the anxiety starts to weave its way into him, and he might have walked right on by the grocery store if not for the uneven sidewalk.

He manages to get his hands in front of him, preventing his face from meeting the pavement and scrambles to his feet.

“What? Not even a postcard?” A thick Chicago accent rings out. Eddie starts to feel the defensiveness rise in him. He’s going to give this joker a piece of his mind. It's only his first day here, and already, it's going to hell. It's a stupid joke, anyway, which makes no sense at all because he didn't trip. He fell. Couldn’t this moron even see that? He dusts off his new clothes and notices a small tear in the knee. And that might be the final straw. Eddie screws up his face in rage. Fists clenched at his sides, one finger extended, ready to point right at this guy.

“No! Not even-” Eddie begins angrily as he turns to the voice. But all language and oxygen leave him, and all he can do is take one gulp of an inhale like a human goldfish.

Standing in front of Eddie right now is something he can barely comprehend. A miracle has occurred, and it doesn't seem like the rest of the world has noticed because it's carrying on like this isn’t even happening. He can vaguely hear the cars and the shouts of others, but they are all starting to dwindle. It was like someone was turning the volume down on planet Earth, and all he could hear was his own heartbeat and breathing.

Then, almost like a vignette is placed over his vision, blurring and darkening the edges, he can only focus on one thing.

The man of Eddie’s dreams.

Physically, at least.

He is right there.

Like the great animators in the sky plucked him out of his mind and drew him into existence.

Had he not put his hand out in time? Was he, in reality, currently knocked out by the fall, and that's why he can see this guy now?

He’s about the same height as Eddie. His hair is neatly cropped, not shoved away and hidden under a hat like his own. It’s side-parted, with a perfect swoop of brown, neatly combed and styled hair. Save for a few strands that hang over his forehead, rebelling against the pomade. His light brown eyes are shaped with a slight slope downwards, giving them a natural, hooded, adorable sadness, just like Elvis himself. But these are larger, which made them infinitely easier to get lost in. But there isn’t an ounce of sadness in the rest of that face as a cocky open-mouthed smile spreads across it. Tucked in the corner of his lips is a toothpick that rolls, as his tongue is idly toying with from inside his mouth as he looks Eddie up and down.

Then there are those rose-blushed lips of his. They looked so soft, in direct opposition with the perfectly chiselled jaw they rested above. And all of this with a backdrop of olive skin littered with beauty marks. As if this guy needed any more indicators of how beautiful he was. Jesus.

Eddie dares to give him a rapid look up and down, and it is also awful news because not only did they give him the face of an angel, but they had to provide him with a body that would launch a million classical sculptors across all time into action. His shoulders are broad and sit atop two very pleasantly muscular arms. The white cotton t-shirt embraces them, one tighter than the other as it's rolled a little higher to hold his pack of smokes. The fabric stretches over his chest to reveal the mounds and dips of an anatomical landscape that Eddie is sure he would happily sit and admire for longer than any national landmark this fair country had to offer. Then the killing blow by this everyday garment is struck by how it falls and clings to his stomach, revealing he’s even got a slightly soft tummy. Eddie is starting to feel light-headed. This cannot be real.

Then Eddie notices something else, he’s wearing an apron, and in his arms is a crate of apples. He fucking works here. Oh god. Oh, god, no! Eddie starts to feel like he's overheating, and he’s eyelids flutter unintentionally.

“You ok dere, buddy?” The man’s smile and amusement take an eighty per cent plummet as they look over Eddie with concern.

He’s overwhelmed by everything happening right now, the whole day of mistakes leading up to it, questioning if it was even the right choice to come to the city in the first place. If all of these things were glaring warning signs, pointing him to go back home to Hawkins, stop chasing stupid dreams, and get a job with his Uncle Wayne at the factory. And this…this man at his local store of all places spelt trouble for him. No matter how hard he tried, he wasn’t good at hiding his thoughts or feelings.

That was it decided. He would turn around now, go pack, and go home. This was a stupid idea. Eddie feels a tightness across his shoulders start to spread, his palms heat up, and he realises he’s been staring into space for the last few seconds.

He tries to run, but his legs suddenly feel like lead, and though he’s stopped, the world spins around a few more times. Instead of the street being in his eye line, the horizon starts to fall, and all he can see is the sky before he feels his back hit something, but it's not hard like the ground. Soon, the horizon returns, as does the street and the face of an angel, moving him to sit on the ground outside the store, next to a pyramid of oranges.

“I need ya to sit right here, ok buddy. I’m gonna get ya some water, alright?” the angel’s mouth moves, and Eddie watches it seriously to make sure he can hear every one of his precious words.

He pats him on the shoulders, steps toward the store door, and pauses before looking back and tilting his head, “What's ya name?”

He is still a little dizzy, but he knows the answer to that question, “Eddie.” he replies quickly.

The man smiles hugely and repeats his name like he’s testing it out. He places his toothpick behind his ear, “I’m Stefano, yous can call me Steve. Most do,” he gives him a little two-finger wave and disappears inside the store.

Eddie nods a dopey smile of thanks and then tries to take in his surroundings but nearly snaps his neck, looking back just as the guy goes through the door. Holy heck. Turns out it wasn’t just the front of this guy that was stunning. Eddie blows out a breath and stares at the ground. Yeah, this was bad, very bad. He needed to get his things and go home. Maybe getting knocked out by three guys might be slightly less painful than what this situation could be.

Eddie wobbles to his feet and walks to his bag and drawing equipment strewn across the sidewalk.

“EY! I thought I told you to sit right ‘dere?” Steve orders with a loud authority, and there is a clatter of something wooden.

“I’m fine, really,” Eddie says quickly, avoiding looking at him.

“You ain’t fine, buddy. You near hit da deck twice!” Steve says, grabbing his elbow and pulling him back towards the store. Eddie’s eyes turn to him again, and he feels all resistance leave him entirely and is seated on an upturned wooden container. Eddie notices that Steve has made a makeshift table and two chairs entirely out of crates.

He can’t resist looking back over at him as he bends over to pick up Eddie’s things from the ground, and an internal battle rages as Eddie has to force himself to look elsewhere. This guy had been kind, so far anyway, so it wasn’t right to gawk at him, and also, Eddie shouldn’t be ogling guys. That was a one-way ticket to getting your head kicked in town.

Eddie’s stomach drops as he sees Steve stand and observe the sketch pad as he walks back over to him, “Oh…er… it's not what you think. I swear,” Eddie quickly defends.

“What? That you ain’t an artist?” Steve looks up at him, confused.

“No, well, kinda. I men. Fuck. I mean, “ As Steve’s eyes meet his own with a smirk, he gets lost in his eyes again, “Shit, I don't know what I mean.” He says finally with what he is sure is the dopiest, enamoured smile on his face.

Steve sits on the crate opposite him and hands him back his things apart from the pad he’s still observing. Eddie follows his eyes as they trail over the paper and watches his beautiful long lashes bat as he blinks. He vows to draw them all night until he has a perfect version and then hide it in an old tome in the national library so they’ll never be forgotten by time.

“OK, first, your soda. Hope dats alright. I thought yous might need the sugar,” he turns and whacks the cap off the bottle against the store window ledge. The muscles in his arm visibly flex as he does so and offers it over to Eddie, who accepts it gratefully and quickly diverts his eyes to the bottle itself.

For a second, Eddie's fingers brush against Steve’s, making the skin tingle like there is static between them, and he finds himself avoiding his eyes again as he drinks.

Eddie has not been shy since he can remember. He’s an all-singing, all-dancing, one-man vaudeville extravaganza, and he was trying to be a quieter, more reflective version of himself, but he wasn’t trying to be shy. But this guy made him feel goofy. Like someone had injected him with pure intoxication. Eddie knows he should stop biting the inside of his lip and stop staring, but he feels like it’s out of his control. The universe had put this heavenly body in Levis before him, and what was he supposed to do? Reject the gift? Force his way out of its orbit? No, but he didn’t want to repay the guy's kindness with his weird staring, so he kept trying to focus on other things. Anything that might save him from the flawless man realising he was appreciating him in a more than friendly way.

Eddie figures he must be doing an okay job. The guy hasn’t exhibited any of the usual aggressive tells Eddie had learned in Hawkins. When you're eager for a kiss or to dodge a fist, you learn to be observant of that shit quickly.

Steve tilts his head into his eye line, and once he has his attention, he moves it back to upright and smiles and asks, “Now I got a coupla questions, alright witcha?” Eddie nods in agreement as his eyes obediently follow him, as does the same smile he can’t seem to wipe from his face.

“You don’t sound like yous from here. You lost?” He asks.

Eddie shakes his head, “Nah, not lost. Not at all,” he means that he feels found when Steve looks at him, “But I did only get here last night,” Eddie offers up freely, and part of his brain is too slow to protest the fact he shouldn’t be telling a stranger more than they ask for.

Steve’s smile widens, “Dat makes sense,” Eddie watches his fingers trail over the paper where the cigarette has burned the pages, and a fresh feeling of embarrassment floods him. He could have taken the three of them. This guy sure wasn’t going to be impressed when he found out he’d effectively run away.

“It does?” Eddie asks, suddenly eager to have Steve look at him again.

“Yeah. I ain’t seen you before. Woulda remembered,” Steve sends him a charming boyish smile as the toothpick in his mouth moves from one side of his mouth to the other, “So, uh-“ he starts but is quickly interrupted.

“STEFANO!! ‘Owa, long is it gonna take for yous to finish the apples, eh? We’ll have a whole orchard ina here beforea you’re done. Amonini!” A woman’s voice rings out loud and clear, bursting the dreamy bubble Eddie was sitting in.

He looks over for Steve’s reaction. His eyes are wide, and a faint blush hits his cheeks and jaw, “‘Scuse me, Eddie,” he pockets Eddie’s pad in his apron and returns to the crate of apples Eddie had seen him carrying. He sets it out on the sloped display and is about to sit back down when he’s stopped in his tracks again.

“Stefano!! Why you no answer me?” The woman’s voice calls out again, annoyed and getting closer. Eddie watches Steve close his eyes slowly and slams down the second crate.

“IM DOIN’ IT, MA!” He yells back at the top of his lungs, goes back inside and re-emerges with another few crates piled up on top of one another.

“Urgh dissa boy, I swear. STEFANO!” Eddie hears the woman very clearly now, even though she isn’t shouting, and he looks up to see an open window she must be upstairs.

“MA! I'M DOING IT ALREADY!” Steve yells back, his beautiful brow frowns petulantly as he roughly shoves the crates into the display in an adorable little tantrum.

“Why you take-a so long? Huh?”

“Ma! I just fucking stepped foot out here! Gimme a fuckin’ chance! I’m only one man! Jesus!”

“STEFANO EMILIO HARRINGTON, Don-na tell me you takin’ Jesus’ name in vain,” her voice travels around the place until Eddie hears the sound of footsteps and the ring of the bell as the door is yanked open. A woman’s face emerges. Initially, she looks furious, “Listen to how my son talks to me. You heara dat? What kinda terrible mother have I been to deserve that? Oh, the worst!” It feels like she says it to Eddie, but her words could have been for anyone in earshot.

Eddie's eyes turn to Steve, who, though now quite red in the face, probably from carrying all those crates around, is having some kind of absolutely silent conversation with his mother. It was the complete opposite of the yelling match they were just having. They gesture their hands in pointed, stern ways at first. Fingers pinched together, their eyes and faces express some kind of disagreement that soon dissolves to calm, and his mother’s eyes turn to Eddie for a second before she turns back to Steve and drags her thumb down her cheek with a big smile at him. He shrugs and looks a little bashful. She nods and goes back inside.

He watches Steve take a deep breath, and he walks over to sit back down on his crate seat, “Sorry ‘bout dat. So, uh, are you an artist den?” He pulls the pad back out and places it between them.

The sudden intrusion of Steve’s mom seems to give Eddie some of the English language back, “ I, um, yeah, I like to draw, but I wanna write,” he says and takes a swig of his drink immediately after speaking, to prevent himself from waffling too much.

“Oh, like for da paper?”

“Uh, well, maybe,” Eddie cannot bring himself to tell this beautiful being he’s wrong, “But books mostly. Stories and things like that,” now he feels that shyness again. Sometimes, it feels dumb to talk about his dreams out loud. Steve probably thinks he’s an idiot without a real job, but there isn’t a crumb of negativity on Steve’s face, just a broad smile.

“O’ course, you write stories and draw. Course ya do,” he says with a happy shake of his head, “Well ya know, if, er, yeah, I can always put a word in for you at da paper. I knowaguy,” Steve offers kindly, and Eddie can feel himself falling in love with how he talks with every word he says, on top of how kind and beautiful he is.

“Gee, that’d be swell,” Eddie says, unable to hide his gigantic grin.

Steve taps his finger on the pad, “I think. I might know these girls,” though Steve says it with a smile, Eddie freezes. Worried this man’s initial kindness was going to sour quickly now. He probably thinks the same as the guy outside his building. He feels such an idiot for drawing it in the first place, but he doesn’t see anything wrong in it because, for starters, one was an actual child, and the other two were beautiful. He could see that, but the same way he’d feel about a sunset or a lovely tree, not beautiful like attraction, not like he felt about Steve, but he couldn’t just tell someone that, so he plays along.

“Oh yeah?” Eddie keeps it short and tries not to make this worse than it needs to be.

“Yeah, dis one with da book. ‘Dats Nancy, she used to be my girl,” Steve says, not taking his eyes from the pad. Eddie's space rocket of impossible dreams explodes before it even leaves the stratosphere and sends his stomach plummeting. What did he expect, though, really? Steve’s finger moves across the paper, and he taps the heads of the other two girls, “Deez two, my sisters.” Shit. Eddie feels the need to run. This guy is gonna flip out any minute and probably crush his head like a melon between two of these wooden crates. But both through fear and the fact that Steve raises his soulful brown eyes to meet his, he stays put.

He knows he should say something, but he’s struggling to find the right watertight words and has no chance of being misunderstood. But he can’t think straight when he can see almost every small pigment detail in Steve’s eyes and presses his lips together, afraid he might just say something about them instead.

A loud slam of a car door pushes a word out of Eddie, “B-beautiful,” he blurts out.

“Oh,” Steve replies and pushes the pad over to Eddie. The smile fades from his lips, and Eddie hates it, so he just lets his motormouth let rip.

“The scene. I mean. The scene was beautiful. Not the girls. I mean, yes, they are beautiful, but I don't mean in that way. They were together but so different, and when I sat down to draw, they were perfectly framed from where I was sitting. I was inspired by them, you know? Like a nice tree or something. Back home is so different from here. All I had to draw sometimes were nice trees. I don’t know why I’m telling you about nice trees. I’m just saying that I didn't mean any harm. I know better now. I won’t do it again. I swear. This city has plenty more things that are inspiring. I just thought they looked kinda like if a personality was a group of people. I thought that fit this place because it's a huge mixture of cultures, sounds, and sights.”

Steve’s eyes don’t leave Eddie’s, “Da girl holdin’ the book. Dat’s Nancy. We used to date a while back. She’s real smart. I reckon yous two would get along real well. I could introduce ya if you want?”

“Oh god, no!” Eddie says way too quickly, with a laugh, “I mean, no, thank you. I’m not looking for a girl. I mean, I’m not looking to date right now. But thank you.” he awkwardly recovers as quickly as he can. Well, at least hopes he has. He thinks maybe he’s slightly successful as Steve leans forward a little to rest his chin on his fist, and a smile reappears.

“You know, maybe you could do it from here next time you wanna draw or write? ‘Deres normally a table, but I had to take it inside to fix somethin’ on it,” Eddie glimpses through the window of the store and quite clearly can see two elderly gentlemen playing checkers on it, “It’d be nice to have a creative type use it, prob’ly attract more people like ‘dat. If you wan’ I mean,” he says kindly.

Eddie can’t believe his luck. Yeah, sure, today had started off a complete mess, but now he had a movie-star-looking guy, basically saying, spend time with me every day, doing what you love. If it wasn’t for how Steve flips the toothpick around in his mouth, Eddie would have been completely lost in his eyes and swooned clear off the crate in front of him.

“Gosh, that's really kind of you. When are you usually here? Every day?” Eddie asks, maybe a little too enthusiastically, which makes Steve laugh, and it might be sweeter than morning birdsong to Eddie’s ears.

“Well-” Steve starts but is interrupted as the bell above the door rings again.

His mom emerges with a tray of coffee and tiny cups. This time, Eddie jumps to his feet to introduce himself properly and not just sit and stare. He quickly neatens up his clothes and clumsily tries to angle his leg, so it hides the tear in his pants. He almost laughs at his eagerness to impress her. He supposes he is new and wants to make a good impression, but he knows it's more than that. He knows that his fantasy brain is running away with him again, trying to impress the object of his affection’s mother. Like this could ever be a thing.

The small woman has beautifully coiffed dark brown hair, and her eyes look just the same as Steve’s, except her’s are expertly lined with makeup. She beams at Eddie as she sets the tray on the crate, which wobbles, and Steve rushes inside the store momentarily. Leaving Eddie and his mom smiling awkwardly at one another for a moment. Eddie can hear some raised voices but can’t make out any of the words the raised voices are exchanging and figures they must be talking in Italian. The two elderly men from inside emerge, grumbling. One with the checkerboard under his arm storms out first, followed by a second, who flicks his hand under his chin at Steve, who laughs and yells after them, “Well, if yous two ordered more dan a biscotti to share every day, den maybe you’d keep the table!” he shakes his head, “Fuckin’ stunad,”

“Stefano!” his mom reprimands him as he exchanges the crates for actual furniture. He seats his mom first as if that doesn't make Eddie’s heart beat faster with how sweet he is. He looks at Eddie and then down at the tray, and for a second, Eddie can’t do anything except look back like he’s hypnotised or something, but his mom coughs daintily, and Eddie realises what he needs to do and lifts the tray, as Steve swaps in a small table, and goes rushes back into the store and virtually jumps down the steps on his return, puts a chair one side of his mom, and then walks around to where Eddie and set down the last chair.

“Ma, dis is Eddie,” Steve whacks him hard on the back, and Eddie has to pinch his lips together in a smile to stop the oof from being expelled from them, from the sheer force of it, “He’s gonna be a big shot writer, ain’t dat right, Ed?”

Eddie dared not look at Steve right now. He was so close he felt the breath that contained his abbreviated name against his cheek. He keeps his eyes on Steve’s mom and offers an upturned hand towards her. She looks at him strangely but obliges him, putting her hand in his, and he kisses the back of it.

“A pleasure to meet you. I’m sure gonna try to make it at least,” he smiles back as she raises an eyebrow at Steve with an impressed face, and Eddie feels like this is his first shoot and success of the day.

But he’s not ready for feeling Steve’s warm hand slide against the small of his back as he guides him down into his chair and tucks it in for him, “Dere you go, much better, right?” Steve says happily as he returns to his own seat, and Eddie’s eyes obediently follow him all the way there, but when Steve’s eyes catch his again, he quickly looks away.

“You look, uh, wassa the word, similar,” his mom says, pulling his attention from the mosaic pattern on the tiny cups and saucers.

“It’s familiar, Ma,” Steve corrects, gently pouring the coffee into the cups from an odd-looking contraption.

“Ah, yeah, familiar,” she moves a finger quickly in front of her face, “Your eyes.”

“Oh, maybe you know my Mama, I mean mom,” Eddie says, quickly correcting himself again, but Steve and his mom exchange a happy look with one another and then back at Eddie, so he figures maybe they at least found it amusing rather than stupid.

“What's her name?” Steve asks, passing a tiny cup and saucer to his mom first and then to Eddie.

“Esmerelda,” Eddie tries, but two blank faces look back at him, “Uh, Esmerelda Munson, she lives right over there,” Eddie points out the building as he turns behind him.

The clatter of a teaspoon makes him spin around quickly to two now stunned faces.

“You're dat Eddie? Mrs Munson’s boy?” Steve asks hurriedly.

Though the fear swirls in his gut that maybe his reputation might have preceded him, he’s in too deep to lie, “Yeah, you know her?” he says, swallowing nervously.

Steve’s mom claps her hands together, holds them up to her mouth like she's in prayer, and looks up to the canopy above them with a big smile.

“We sure do,” Steve grins, “She helped us out a lot when Pa passed. She’s a real kind lady.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. That must be difficult,” Eddie adds somberly as he watches how Steve drinks from the small cup and saucer and copies him. He understands immediately why this stuff is sipped and is in such tiny cups. It's much richer than regular coffee, almost thicker, and sweet too. It's delicious. Eddie can’t help himself and takes another sip immediately and lets out an involuntary sound of appreciation before setting down his cup.

“Si, a real, uh, ball-busta,” Steve's mom says happily.

Eddie nearly chokes on thin air as Steve complains, “Ma! Jesus! You don’t say that!” but Eddie can’t help laughing.

“Yeah, I guess she is a bit,” he beams at Steve’s mom, who pats pinches his cheek.

“Biddicchiu,” she laughs with him as Steve passes her the sketch pad and juts his thumb towards Eddie. Her eyes scan over the paper.

“I said Ed was welcome to work from here if he wants,” Steve says, “Hope dats ok?”

His mom nods, then gestures to the cigarette burn on the paper and the scuff marks. She speaks to Steve in Italian. Eddie guesses that because he can’t understand much, but he recognises her anger when she points her hand sharply at Eddie’s building, frowns deeply, and taps her temple. Eddie stays quiet and watches Steve reassure her.

“Can I have dissa one?” she says, gesturing at Eddie’s drawing.

“Yeah, but I can draw you a better one than that, on nicer-” Eddie starts, but she has already torn out the paper and folded it away in her own apron pocket.

“Ma says you’re welcome here anytime,” Steve smiles at him. Eddie is pretty sure there is more to what his mom said than that, but he doesn't want to press it, “We live just above here, so, uh, it dont matter what da time is, you know? One-a us’ll be here.”

“Thank you, that's real kind,” Eddie says politely.

Steve's mom grips Eddie’s shoulder, looking at him seriously, “Listen to me, don-a talk widda, those boys over there. They no good. You come here, we not mucha further. Then your mama, no worry,” Eddie nods, and her red lipstick smile adorns her face again, “Besides, we gotta good food, better coffee, and a much nicer view, uh?” Eddie follows her eyes to Steve, who is blushing. Maybe he’s a bit embarrassed because he’s also had a run-in with those guys.

“Yeah, much better,” Eddie agrees, and Steve’s mom pats his cheek.

“Smart boy,” she says happily and looks up at Eddie’s building again, “I think deeza buildings so close you could see Stefano’s window from yours,” Eddie has no idea why she’s blessing him with this information, but his brain rapidly works out that he could probably see it from his own bedroom.

“MA!” Steve says in alarm and nudges her, then hurriedly clears up the tray as she lets out a melodic laugh, clutching her sides. Her eyes trail after him as he goes inside.

She turns back to Eddie, “My boy, he's good. Make you-a good friend. Yes?” She asks and puts a finger to her cheek and twists it around. She looks encouragingly at him, “You like?” She repeats the gesture against her cheek.

“Yes,” Eddie says enthusiastically. Even though he doesn't just like it here. He loves it here. They’d been so friendly and obviously tried to not think about the other things he liked about here.

“Si,” She says, takes Eddie's hand, and makes him mirror her gesture.

She lets go and tries again, “You like?”

“Si,” Eddie repeats and actions the gesture himself this time. She claps her hands together happily.

As Steve rejoins them, she starts talking at him, rapidly gesturing with her hands between himself and Steve. He can pick out his name and cafe, which he thinks must be related to coffee.

“Alright, alright, geez ma,” Steve says, looking a little confused at her and then turns to Eddie, “Before she has some kinda fit aboudit, she wants me to ask if yous liked the espresso,” Steve looking at him with a bashful smile.

Eddie is nudged in the ribs by Mrs Harrington, who nods encouragingly at him again. He cautiously raises his finger to his cheek and turns it, “Si?” he says awkwardly and looks between them.

At first, Steve's mouth parts ever so slightly, like he's going to say something, then his eyes move to his mom, and he shakes his head but can’t seem to wipe the smirk from his face.

The bell over the door rings, and they all turn towards it, and the customer that just entered. Steve stands, but his mother shakes her head at him and gently pushes him back into his seat as she stands up. At the door, she turns back to Eddie, “If your mama worksa late, you come eat with us.” That didn't sound like a question to Eddie, but he nodded anyway. She tuts and tilts her head at him, a playful frown on her brow.

“Si,” Eddie tries again, and she looks delighted as she ruffles Steve’s hair and walks into the store.

“Sorry about dat,” Steve says, picking at the table, “She’s a a lot sometimes.”

“Oh, I didn't mind at all,” Eddie replies truthfully, and suddenly, he remembers why he was coming this way anyway, “Oh god, food. Yeah, I have to get food, that's…” Eddie rummages through his things and finds the notepaper.

“Want some help?” Steve asks, standing at the same time Eddie does.

“No, you’ve done so much already. I couldn’t keep taking up your time like this,” Eddie laughs awkwardly, but all he really wants to do is say yes.

Steve waves his hand, “It’s no trouble for a paying customer,” He says and walks towards the steps to the store with Eddie. As they reach the door, Steve pushes it open for him, “Allow me, Sir,” he chuckles and follows Eddie inside.

Steve guides him around the place, helps Eddie find everything on his list, and puts an extra small box on top as he rings up the groceries.

“What's that?” Eddie asks curiously.

“Cannoli, your Ma likes ‘em,” Steve answers as Eddie places the money in his hand, trying not to let his fingers linger against his palm longer than they should.

“I’ll make sure she gets it,” Eddie smiles, unsure exactly what it was, but he’d be sure to pass it on, all the same.

“Want me to walk you home? I’ll make sure Billy, Jason and Tommy don't give you any trouble,” Steve says, leaning over the counter towards him.

Something about that made Eddie’s heart race, but he didn't want to appear weak, “No, it's fine. I’m used to it, just it was my first day here, and it kinda got to me, is all.” And that doesn't feel like as much of a lie as it seemed. Having this oasis of safety with Steve and his family didn’t make the thought of Billy and his goons seem so awful.

“You still gonna come by tomorrow?” Steve genuinely asks, his eyes big and innocent, scanning over Eddie as he gathers the grocery bags.

“Yeah, course I will,” Eddie answers like Steve asked him the most ridiculous question in the history of all mankind, “I feel pretty inspired again already,” Eddie smiles fondly at Steve, who was rapidly becoming one of his favourite things in the universe.

“Yeah?” Steve says, plucking the toothpick from behind his ear and putting it back in his mouth, “I reckon dis place could maybe be a great beginning…for your story, I mean,” he says, walking around the counter and holding the door open for Eddie again, following him outside.

“Tomorrow then,” Eddie smiles at him, trying not to sigh because tomorrow already felt too far away. Steve nods back, and Eddie catches a glimpse of Steve’s mom in the window. He gives her a wave and starts walking back to the apartment.

As he reaches the corner, he looks back. He can see Mrs Harrington buzzing and fussing around Steve, who looks like he is laughing and pretending to fight her off. He smiles to himself, and with the staircase of the building clear of idiots, he thinks that maybe Steve is right.

This could be a perfect place for the beginning of his new story.

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfiction #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #eddie month #eddiemonth #madaboutmunson #eddie month week 1 #madaboutmunsonSHC

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amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines · 2 years

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Liked by lilireinhart, rosie and 11,345,612 others

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y/n: Good morning, it’s a new era baby!

rosie: hell fucking yeah it is!

lilireinhart: if you read this im free on thursday night and would like to hang out. please respond to this and then hang out with me on thursday night when I’m free.

murph: lets goooooooooo

y/nfan1: ma’am, i’m not ready!

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rosie: @y/n and @murph decided to switch instruments...it sucked

y/n: hey! i’m the best drummer in this band!

murph: i thought my guitar skills were quite good

lilireinhart: does anyone have any pictures of y/n drumming? 😳

y/nfan2: @lilireinhart for research purposes?

lilireinhart: @y/nfan2 of course 😉

Liked by madelame, simpforsonicboom and 4,123,674 others

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lilireinhart: i know she said it was the start of a new era, but why would you want to hide that smile?

y/n: @lilireinhart babeee, you’re embarassing me in front of my friends

murph: please put a trigger warning on stuff like this, it’s too early in the morning to be this scared

y/n: @murph 🖕🖕

Liked by lilireinhart, taylorswift and 7,856,341 others

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y/n: god, i wish that were me

murph: god, i wish that were me

rosie: god, i wish that were me

lilireinhart: what have i just walked into here?

bipie: god, i wish that were you

Liked by camimendes, y/n and 3,652,872 others

lilireinhart: it’s the day that @sonicboomofficial give birth to their brand new album/baby, and I am so excited for you guys to meet it!! so, i’ve brought my girl some flowers to celebrate!

y/n: baby...i love you so fucking much

yourshipname: oh god, this is too fucking cute

madelame: congratulations @y/n @rosie @murph i can’t wait to hear it

rosie: aww, lili. you shouldn’t have 😊

Liked by lilireinhart, 5sos and 17,672,190 others

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sonicboomofficial: ‘Never Too Late’ Out Now, Everywhere. Go buy it otherwise we fire @y/n

y/n: 😔😔

cherylblossomfan: ahhhhhhhhhhh

y/nfan1: i’m still not ready!!!!

sweetcreature: holy shit! it’s so good!!

Liked by harrystyles, kjapa and 6,872,145 others

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lilireinhart: words can’t even begin to describe how proud i am of y/n, rosie and murph. they’ve all worked so hard on this album, harder than i have ever worked on anything ever and watching them create this has honestly been one of the best experiences of my entire life, and i’m so excited that it’s now in the world and i can tell everyone about it! congratulations @sonicboomofficial, i love you all so much

y/n: i’m not crying, you’re crying.

murph: @y/n, is one lucky girl and we’re one lucky band to have a friend like you

rosie: i love you so much lili! thank you and i can’t wait to celebrate with you in person

sonicboom: we stan (1) one blonde queen in this house and her name is lili pauline reinhart

stevienicks: the best cover of the chain...ever!

---

Request: Sonic Boom anon here! Can you do another Instagram edit where the band has a new album? The songs on the album are the band’s new original songs Animal I Have Become, World So Cold, Break, Over and Over, I Hate Everything About You, Never Too Late, and Pain and a cover of I Hate Myself for Loving You by Joan Jett & the Blackhearts, a cover of Poison by Alice ear Cooper, and an acoustic cover of The Chain by Fleetwood Mac.

part 1!

support my work! if you’d like!

#riverdale #riverdale imagine #lili reinhart #lili reinhart imagine #lili reinhart x reader #lili reinhart x you

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secondhand-trash · 4 years

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Tough Competition

@shinsoubowl Week 2019 Day 2 (Prompt: Competition+”Is that really the best you got?”)

A/N: I had such a bad writer's block while writing this one. Thank god I managed to get it done.

Pairing: Shinsou HItoshi x reader

Description: Nothing like a bit of friendy rivalry to get the tension going and affection to blossom.

Word count: 3195

Playlist:

Make You Mine//PUBLIC

Waterloo//ABBA

I Hate Myself for Loving You//Joan Jett & The Blackhearts

If anything, you had enough self-awareness to admit that you were a ridiculously prideful person. So to see that damn smirk on your opponent’s face when your back hit the mat immediately sent a pang of bitterness straight to the back of your throat.

“Is that really the best you got?”

What a prick.

You groaned at the numbness on your back from the pain, “You have to rub it in, huh?”

Shinsou’s extended hand was left hanging as you got up and walked straight pass him, a hand on your back to ease the discomfort.

Now, before people started to assume things, you did not hate Shinsou. Not really, but you were a really bitter loser and you had never won in a spar against that kid. Never, not once since you started training with him under Aizawa’s instruction.

Perhaps it was the universe’s cue to keep your ego in check when you didn’t make it into Hero Studies in the first place.

To say that you were crushed would be an understatement. It was a reality check that you were, indeed, not as good as you thought you were. But you didn’t just give up, admitting that you failed in achieving your dream would be an even bigger blow to your pride. So you settled for what you could get in the time being and worked twice as hard as you used to, preparing for the day you could finally prove your worth.

You nearly cried in joy when they said that you would be trained to see if you were suitable for moving to Hero Studies next year.

You weren’t so excited to see another person there in the gym though.

Not only was Shinsou somewhat in competition with you for the same goal, he was also ridiculously good at it. He was very serious with the whole thing in the same way as you did which you respected but somehow, he seemed to find amusement in your frustration as much as you were frustrated by him.

“You know, if you stop being such a sore loser, we might actually get along.” you rolled your eyes as you heard his irritating voice when you were about to push open the door to the gym. Another day, another training section with the person who made you grit your teeth every time you talk to him.

You turned around with a glare and exaggeratingly shrugged, “Why are you so interested in getting along with me? As far as I’m concerned, being a lone wolf was your brand.”

You were expecting to see that smirk but you faced him to see that it had dropped. He looked almost sincere and the scrawl on your face went stiff. “Because it took me a while to see that pushing people away won’t get you far,” he said, “we’re actually pretty similar, you and I-”

“Let’s just go back to kicking each other’s ass, it’s more fun that way.” walking pass the door without sparing him another glance, you could hear the sigh from behind your back. If you had to receive a lecture on the importance of peer relationships with someone, it would be the least convincing to get it from Shinsou Hitoshi whose only interaction you had with was beating each other up.

Beads of sweat slid down your forehead as you blocked yet another hit from your opponent, finding the chance to strike back. The gym was filled with the sound of grunting and the squeaking of the hard wooden floor as the fight carried on with a feverish force. It was a level playing field, as much as you were worn out, the heavy breaths and the way his shirt stuck onto his body showed that Shinsou was not exactly having the easiest time fending you off.

You would never give him the satisfaction of hearing you say it out loud but it you were not the one on the receiving end of it, watching Shinsou fight was an enjoyment. It’s the way his body moved, every muscle working together in the swiftest motion and each move was so precise. When you saw him in the Sports Festival, you did not take him as the combat type of person but apparently the training did him well.

Sometimes, you weren’t sure if you could say the same for you.

You were immediately caught off guard when Shinsou decked and moved out of your view. Suddenly, there was a firm grip on your forearm that couldn’t pull back fast enough after your lunge.

Before you knew it, you crashed onto the ground and groaned when you heard the line that you were almost expecting to hear. “Is this really the best you got?”

You snapped your eyes open, disregarding the pain that wanted to force them shut out of instinct, and wanted to snarl at him with a comeback of your own. It took you by surprise when you felt a heavy weight on your shoulder and Shinsou’s face hovering right above yours. He was had both knees on your side, trapping you and keeping you on the floor.

“What the fuck? Get off me-”

“Why do you hate me so much?”

Blood rushed to your face at the close proximity between you and him. You tried to ignore the fact that you could almost feel his shaky breath fanning your face as you retaliated, “Did you heard what you just said to me?”

“What is it about me that made you detest me so much?” his grip on your shoulder tightened slightly as he spoke, “You kept coming back at me with the same attitude when I had been trying to be nice to you. You ignored me when I walk past you in the halls. Look, if this is about what I say to you after we spur, I’m sorry but-”

“I don’t hate you!” you yelled and tried to get out of his grip, you were not ready to have this huge confrontation with him when you yourself had been refusing the mental debate in your head. Did you feel bad for treating him like that? Always, but your guilt was gone every time you felt the chilling wooden floor under your back as you heard his words rang in your ears. It reminded you of your own failure and although it wasn’t fair to blame it on someone who had no business with your own insecurities, you just couldn’t help it from letting your anger out. “I’m a sore loser, you said it yourself. The only reason I’m still here talking to you is because I had to unless I want to just hand away the only shot I have at doing what I want.”

His brows knitted together, a hint of hurt flashing through before a sharp look replaced it in his eyes, “Do you think it’s not the same for me? I could be doing something else that actually benefits me instead of bickering with you but I still tried anyways because I thought we could both use a friend!” He nearly shouted at you with the last sentence and you winced. He let go of yours shoulder and stood up, “But apparently, I was wrong.”

The cold tone in his voice made you shiver. You weren’t sure what that feeling was when you stared at the back view of him walking away, a loud thump from the door echoed in the empty gym as he left. You sat on the floor, still processing what just happened but failed to keep your mind straight at the weight from where he held you down ghosting on your shoulder and that disturbing feeling of the churn in your stomach distracting you.

“Hey! We’re going to this new cafe after school, wanna come?”

“Can’t,” you groaned as you turned down your friend, “had to train with that asshole again.”

Your friend snickered, “What’s going on between you and Shinsou?”

“There is no ‘me and Shinsou’, what are you talking about?” you raised a brow at your friend’s smug smile. You weren’t lying, ever since that day in the gym, he stopped trying to approach you like he did before and you obviously had no intention to reach out to him yourself. You still held on to your argument that you didn’t hate him but it seemed like you couldn’t quite say the same for him with the way he gave you a side eye each time you walked past him. Never one to back down, you would always return with an equally icy glare. Sparring did not go any differently, the two of you were more determined to beat each other than before after you got farther from being friends.

“Oh, please,” you rolled your eyes at their grin and the amused tone they were using, “everyone can feel the tension between you two.”

You let out a soft ‘tch’ in annoyance, “Because we both want to strangle each other?”

“Yeah, yeah, keep denying it,” they smirked, “but the way you two stared each other down? I’m more convinced that you both want to ravish the other person-”

“Ok, how about no?” you ignored their cackling as you swung you bag on your shoulders and made way to the door, “And if you use the word ‘ravish’ again, I will throw up on you.”

You were a prideful person and you knew it but there were times when holding up the wall that was your ego put too much strain on you. You could not take failure, you did not have to be the best at everything but you would not accept the torture that was being anything less than serviceable. It was mid-term season and you had not gotten enough sleep for at least a week. Your progress on hero training was everything but ideal with the standards you put on yourself and you were exhausted. Now that the week was over, there was nothing you wanted to do more than hiding in your dorm room and hibernate.

But no, you had to spend such a beautiful weekend doing extra training with the one person you did not want to see.

Shinsou could sense that something was wrong when you stormed into the gym without acknowledging his presence at all. Normally, there would be at least an eye roll or a glare but you did not even look at him as you threw your stuff down onto the side. Unlike your usual good posture, you shoulders were tensed up and he could almost see a slight hunch on your back. The bags under your eyes could almost rival his own.

“You looked like shit, where have you been?”

He was expecting a snarl and words caught in the back of his throat as he heard a sigh instead. You sounded so tired and he wasn’t sure what he wanted to do with it. “Look, I really don’t have the energy for this today.” you ran a hand through your hair and tried to concentrate, “Let’s just get this done and over with.”

“Right.” he wasn’t sure it felt weird that you two weren’t bickering because he was always so annoyed by your snarky attitude but he pushed it to the back of his head as the two of you got into position.

Unlike most times, you didn’t strike the first move. It didn’t take a genius to see that your moves were way sloppier than usual. Shinsou had been spurring with you for long enough to see that you were not holding up with your standard performance. At certain moments, he was so sure that you were gonna lose balance and collapse.

“Stop, stop, stop.” you looked at him in confusion when he suddenly gripped your wrist, “I can’t do this anymore.”

“What?” you asked in disbelief as you tried to break free of his grasp.

“I can’t fight you when you are like this.”

You bit the inside of your cheeks as you felt humiliation building up in you. He hadn’t let go of you and you yanked your hand away from him, “I don’t want your pity.”

“I’m not pitying you.” Shinsou sighed at how difficult you were being, “It’s gonna look bad on me if I win you when you look like you are about to pass out anyways. Let’s just call it quits, ok?”

If it was any times other than now, you would have yelled at him to not go soft on you and carry on with what you were doing. But right now, his offer sounded just a bit too tempting for your worn out self.

Shinsou wasn’t sure why he felt so relieved when you nodded and backed down, going to pack your things without much protest as he thought you would.

“Thanks.” you mumbled as you took the can of soda from his hand. Taking a large gulp, you let out a content sigh as the cold liquid brought you back to life.

You didn’t move away when Shinsou sat down next to you on the bench outside of the gym. He stared at the side of your face as while you lowered your head, your fingers tracing the rim of the can mindlessly. He had never looked at you properly until now, too busy either fighting you off or trying to keep up the part of an eager rival. With your eyes draping down and your lips pursing tightly together to form a frown, he was all too bothered by how distressed you looked for someone who was supposed to hate you.

“Sometimes, I’m not sure if I can convince myself that I’m good enough anymore.” you said with a forced chuckle and the pitiful sound made his heart ache.

“If you’re not good enough then what does that make me?”

You gave him a weak shrug, “Well, someone who could beat me every time, that I am sure of.”

You must be really beaten down to say it out loud. Shinsou furrowed his brows together as he thought hard on what he should say. He thought that he wanted you to admit that he was a worthy opponent but the fact that someone as prideful as you were was basically stepping on themselves, it left a really bad taste in his mouth. This was not like you and despite what you said basically acknowledging his own abilities, it made him feel terrible.

“Are you kidding me? Do you have no idea how much of a hard time you give me every damn time?”

You snorted at his attempt a cheering you up, the corner of his lips tugging upwards as he saw the small smile on your face. “Right.”

“So stop putting yourself down because you’re insulting me in the process.” you gave him a soft swat on the arm as he grinned, “Whatever is bothering you right now, please pull through. I want my tough competition back.”

“God, you are so infuriating!” you laughed and shook your head. Tapping the side of the cold aluminum, you stayed silent for a while before turning to him. “Thanks, I guess.”

“You’re welcome, I guess.” Shinsou said in amusement at your attempt to lower your pride. You looked almost flustered just saying that and it was adorable to see you let your guard down around him for once.

For a while, you two just sat there without saying a word. The silence was comforting, something you never expected to feel around Shinsou. As the sun slowly descended, everything was tinted with the golden light and the warmth on your skin reminded you of the comfort of being surrounded by blankets on your own bed.

“I think I should go.” you stood up and turned to face him with you back towards the sunlight. Shinsou could feel the flush on his face and he wasn’t sure if it was the sun or the genuine grin you had on your face that gave him the warmth on his cheeks. “Next time, I’m not losing again.”

He got up and looked at you straight in the eyes, looking more delighted than he was competitive. “We’ll see about that.”

Shinsou was caught off guard when you smiled at him as you entered the gym, not that he was complaining. “Ready to get beaten up?”

“Say that to yourself.”

You two had spurred for countless of times but somehow it felt different this time round. Something clicked and the two of you were more aggressive and less calculated with your moves. Both of you were set to win and you must have snapped out of that bad headspace you were in because Shinsou had never seen you so fierce before, even when you two had all that pent up angst towards each other. At one point, he could not even make a move of his own as he was too busy just blocking your hits. How did you get so much better in the span of days?

There was a glint in your eyes that he had never seen before and it was just enough to distract him for long enough that you managed to break his defense. With a hand gripping onto his upper arm, you tripped him down with a kick and pinned him on the floor. Intimating what he once did to you, you pressed him down and trapped him in between your knees.

You were right above him as you came to the realization that you had won against him for the first time since the training started. Still panting and struggling to gather your breath, you smiled. Not so much because you managed to pin him down, but more for the fact that you could actually do it.

If it had happened a week ago, he would have been infuriated. But now, he could not help it but being mesmerized by how you look hovering above him. Your hair was sticking to your forehead and you were flushed from the fight, would it be wrong if he thought that you looked oddly good? You were so close to him. If he sit up just a little taller, your faces would touch and he was so tempted.

Your eyes widened in surprise when you felt the abrupt peck on your lips. The boy who was still beneath you did not even make that big of a move for you to notice. It you could not see the faint blush on his face, you would have thought that it was an illusion from the adrenaline.

Shinsou was expecting you to slap him or yell at him for kissing you out of nowhere. He wasn’t proud of it, but it was right there and he could not help himself.

His breath stopped as you licked your lips and smirked. “Is that really the best you got?”

Shinsou wasn’t sure if he was more intimidated or turned on by that.

#bnha imagines #shinsou hitoshi #shinsou x reader #shinsou hitoshi x reader #shinsoubowl week 2019 #shinsoubowl #bnha x reader #bnha imagine #boku no hero academia

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paladin-andric · 5 years

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The Price of Ambition

Hello, everyone! I hope this finds you all well. I haven’t made as much progress in Blackheart as I’d hoped, but I have been getting back into writing! As a treat, here’s a follow-up to a story a lot of people liked. Some of you may remember the tale of Seigot Ironheart, the mighty Chieftain of Oakwall and the only true High King of all Wolfmen! Here we see the not so happily ever after of his reign, and a chance at redemption for a son who saw the kingdom collapse...

“Noble master.”

A figure emerged from the shadows, slipping through the hall silently as he trudged towards the one and only High King.

High King...such words had never been uttered but in wild fantasies. The idea that the scattered, ever-warring tribes of the dacuni would ever unite under a mighty king that would forge their barren lands into a sprawling empire was but a childish fantasy.

Only it wasn’t a fantasy anymore. One man, one legend, had carved his name into history by making that feat a reality.

Seigot Ironheart, Chief of the Oakwall Tribe had done the impossible. He took a tiny tribe and conquered all. He rolled over the rest, across all of his people’s ancestral homelands, until every dacuni was united, all living in one state: The Dacun Empire.

Raiding parties had transitioned from fighting each other to striking south. The koutu, pona...none were safe from the mighty warrior hordes of a united dacuni people. Even Geralthin suffered. The humans, with all their cunning and magic and steel and lies could not hold the Varagies back!

The High King fell in love some time after his advisors warned him of the need of an heir. He found love on his own terms, though he certainly paid for it by turning away many political brides that might have granted him greater control over the rowdy aristocrats.

He had raised his son lovingly, doting on him nearly as much as his mother did. This was not something chieftains often bothered with, let alone mighty hero-kings.

In an age of political expediency, massive families, court guardians, and sons and daughters being married and shipped off for alliances and foreign claims, a truly bonded, loving family was something to note.

Gerail had loved his father. He’d felt such a warmth in his heart whenever they had a heart-to-heart that he would have done anything to make him proud.

He had attempted just that.

Seigot’s legacy was the unified high kingdom. He had entered a valley of dust and left an empire of stone and marble in his wake. He didn’t want it to all be for nothing.

So as he got on in years, he began to tutor young Gerail in the ways of rulership, diplomacy and administration. His intentions were obvious; he was forging his son into the next High King.

Gerail tried so hard. He had listened and trained with his father in everything from economics to speechcraft. He wanted nothing more than to please the father he held so dearly.

But both of them could tell he wasn’t cut out for it.

He lacked charisma, the raw force of personality his father had that had kept the rowdy dacuni together. He was no good with numbers and accounts, the treasury would flounder under his reign. He had no skill in administration and critical thought, surely the advisors and councils would end up taking all the power from him.

The military laughed at his efforts to lead, as did everyone else. He tried to be diplomatic, but his personality, that of a naive appeaser, led him to failure. He wanted everyone to be his friend, but his meekness and apparent desperation to be liked meant every with a shred of cunning and wit could simply take advantage of him. False assurances of friendship and mischievous grins were common in the royal halls once he ascended to power.

His father could tell he lacked in all regards when it came to managing an empire. That was fine. Not everyone was cut out for it. It was a monstrous task, after all.

But by this time, he and his wife were very old...and no longer could they bear children. Gerail was their only child, and the only person with a shred of legitimacy to the throne.

As those final days drew near, Gerail knew it. His father didn’t believe in him. He could see it in his eyes.

The elderly king, lying on his deathbed, never admitted that though. More importantly, he reminded Gerail of what truly mattered.

“No matter what happens, do not worry,” he muttered. That withered and raspy voice...it was foreign to the strong and mighty High King. “Whatever happens next, remember this...you are my son. You are my son, and I love you. I love you more than anything on this earth, I promise you that. Bear no shame, think nothing of my approval...should the worst come to pass...I will never stop loving you. You are a wonderful person, with the greatest, kindest heart I have ever seen. Be proud, Gerail...be proud of yourself, as I am proud of you. So very proud.”

He was more important to Seigot than a throne, a legacy. Their blood ran thicker than mere words on a stranger’s lips.

Gerail refused to face the world for quite some time after his father passed on, to meet the old gods. In life he had patronized Baba, goddess of the harvest. He always remarked how much he admired the virtues of diligence, honesty and grit that Baba both personified and taught. Hopefully she had received his soul warmly in the afterlife.

Once he gathered himself, Gerail was coronated, and began his reign.

It went as well as he had expected.

Countless issues, unfathomable obstacles, merciless opposition and backbreaking work…

“Why would anyone ever want to be king?” he had asked himself.

His weak reign, along with a terrible famine, resulted in riots. Instead of coming down hard, he let them be. After all, they just wanted to eat, wanted to live. How could he punish them for that?

The riots, left to fester, erupted into full-scale revolts. The commoners ran across the countryside, claiming various crown holdings as free land.

The nobles, wealthy and influential aristocrats soon began plotting for independence. All Gerail did in response was talk. Seeing that a civil war was imminent, he tried to work out concessions, deals, and issued an official plea for peace.

The mighty wolfmen, indomitable warriors with a penchant for violence...he simply begged them not to rebel.

Needless to say everything spiraled out of control. Most of the military was on the sides of various enemy forces at the dawn of the war, and the royal army was separated and weak due to the scattered nature of the holdings that stayed loyal.

The army was quickly overrun, and now only a few loyalists remained. They were currently outside, guarding the palace.

Gerail was slouched over on his throne, his gaze distant. His fist rested against the side of his head, and his scowl made his emotions obvious. His fanciful robes and heavy crown clashed with the way he carried himself.

He was currently stewing over all of what had happened in the past few months. He cursed himself, cursed his incompetence, wondered why it had to be this way-

“N-noble master!” the voice cried out, nervous but insistent.

Raising your voice to the High King...it wasn’t something any slave would normally ever even think of doing, but these were odd times. Besides...he was a special case.

The young wolfman before him wore nothing save a cloth wrap, like most slaves. He had a large tree emblazoned on his shoulder, a branding identifying him as a slave of the Oakwall, the tribe this kingdom rose from.

The young man, Harad, was born into slavery, being the child of a slave couple Gerail’s father had owned some time ago. Gerail and Harad were the same age, and Harad had been trained as a personal servant of the royal family. As such, he and Gerail had grown up together, and were inseparable friends.

But why did he needed to be branded? Gerail thought to himself, Such needless pain and scarring...is that any way to reward loyal servants? Why do there have to be slaves, anyway?

Slavery was not something wolfmen questioned. It had been ingrained in their culture since time immemorial. Dragons had enslaved them, brutalized them and brought untold suffering to their people. Once they were the ones in power, they took their own slaves. In the minds of the dacuni, if they were not the ones in control, there was no point in begging or hoping for mercy; they expected none from those that defeated them, and so they should show none to their enemies.

And yet...Gerail wondered why. They were all dacuni, weren’t they? Why enslave each other?

He sighed and shook his head. “Sorry, Harad. I...I’m thinking.”

The young slave bowed and averted his gaze. “O-of course, master, but...I think it’s time.”

Gerail frowned. “So soon?”

“Rommel said they’ll be here by nightfall.”

The Fox, as he was known, for his wily and cunning tactics. Yet like a fox, he fought ferociously when cornered.

“Is he positive?”

The slave shrugged. “He’s always been good with intel. You know that, master.”

Gerail looked to the floor glumly. “This is my home. I grew up here, learned all I knew here...and now I must leave it forever, you say?”

“I-I have memories here too, master.”

Gerail looked over to the slave. His eyes were wide and sad. He wagered he probably wore a similar look on his own face.

“You do, don’t you? Both of us do.”

Harad offered a pained smile. “Cleaning your room was always a blessing, sir...how your friendship eased my woes so very much.”

For a moment, Gerail’s face warped into that of a genuinely happy man. He remembered when they were both children. Harad had started his servitude very early in his life, helping to clean the palace and perform basic duties for the royal family. Any time he had business in the prince’s chambers it had always turned into the two chatting or playing games together.

It never mattered that one was master and the other slave. They were just children that wanted a friend to play with.

Seigot only got to scold the young slave once...before Gerail broke into tears over how the other child was his only friend. The High King always looked the other way when Harad slacked in his duties to play with the prince after that.

The slave’s job was to serve the royal family in any way desired, and if keeping his son happy was one of those ways, who was he to argue?

Gerail’s eyes lingered over that branding mark on Harad’s shoulder. The slave took notice.

“Master, what are you staring at?”

“Did it hurt?”

The young servant raised a brow. “I’m sorry?”

“Getting branded. The hot iron, pressed against bare flesh...how did you stand it?”

Harad shrugged. “It hurt, but it was quick. It wasn’t too bad.”

Gerail slipped off his throne and approached the other man. His eyes were on that black mark of an oak tree.

“I don’t get it.”

“What do you mean, sir?”

“Why did you need to be branded?”

“To show that I am your property, master.”

“What a rotten reward for a loyal servant.”

Harad shook his head. “That was the entry fee to this life, not the reward.”

The High King gave his friend a saddened look. “Then what IS your reward?”

“Serving the greatest king the world has ever known!”

Gerail laughed and shook his head. “We both know that’s not true. I’m a terrible ruler. But a year in power and an entire empire is dust.”

Harad forced a grin. “W-well, okay, maybe not the greatest as in ruling...but you’re the greatest when it comes to heart!”

The High King frowned. He reached out and, without thinking, touched the branding mark on Harard’s shoulder.

The slave quivered reflexively, but steadied himself. “S-sir?”

Gerail’s eyes widened, and he quickly jerked his arm back. “O-oh, by the gods, I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have. I know how your father hated that…”

Harad’s expression grew somber. “Ah. Well, it was different for him. Yes, touching his shoulder was...something he hated.”

“I remember how he’d react when someone would put an arm around his shoulders, or you’d poke him there. The look in his eyes, how he’d shrink away.”

Harad shrugged. “Like I said, it was different for him. He used to be free before he was...captured. Touching his mark brought him back to that moment he became a slave. It was a horrid reminder, that was why he was sensitive about it. Me, though? I’ve known of no life beyond these walls. There’s no painful memories to recollect...just the times we’d get lectured for slacking off!”

Gerail sighed. “But why?”

“What do you mean, why?”

“Why are you a slave? Why is anyone a slave?”

The servant shrugged. “Because my mother and father before me were slaves?”

“So? Why should that matter?”

“Because it’s passed down, like being king! That’s just the way it is.”

Gerail pouted. “It shouldn’t be.”

“Why not?”

The High King could barely believe this. He had probed about this before, and slaves seemed all too quick to accept their eternal, lifelong servitude. Why was that?

“Because it’s wrong.”

Harad shrugged again. “Doesn’t feel very wrong to me.”

“Gods damn it, Harad! You’re a slave! You’re chattel, like livestock! How can you say that feels right?!”

“But I’m not. I have the greatest master I could ever ask for!”

“Harad...you really enjoy being my slave? You WANT this? Please, tell me...why?”

Harad furrowed his brows. “Master Gerail...listen to me. Your father, the High King...he was my master. My life was in his hands. He could have done anything he wanted, and...he made me clean his palace and play games with you. He could have tormented my father, thrown him to the dogs when his age made performing his duties impossible...but he didn’t. He gave them a small holding to spend their final years in. My mother and father, slaves, thralls...they lived like aristocrats.”

Gerail’s expression softened. “Harad…”

“Gerail, do you know what would happen if I was the slave of someone other than your family? I would spend every waking moment in some mine shaft, suffering in agony to enrich another before keeling over dead. I would be whipped and tortured for fun, forced to do unspeakable things for the amusement of some twisted lord. But you, Gerail, you’re different. You watch over me with a kind and merciful hand. Indeed, I say proudly, that I belong to you! I could ask for no better life in my station!”

It was true. That was what made Seigot so successful in his campaign of conquest. His own slaves, and the slaves of tribes that he captured...he was so kind and merciful to them that slaves eagerly stayed with him, knowing that while they bore the mark of servitude, no life outside the walls of the High King’s palace could ever hope to compare. He had put them in a situation where they could never leave, and yet they wouldn’t want to. In an ironic twist of fate, the slaves had become the most loyal and trustworthy of Seigot’s confidants. Why rebel for a chance at a worse life?

Gerail looked away. “I don’t want to be your master. I don’t want you to be mere property. You’re my friend...I want you to be safe and happy, without the threat of tyranny over your head.”

Harad smirked. “Hah, you only prove me right! If master cares so deeply about my well-being and happiness, who else is more qualified to ensure it?”

“Harad! YOU are!”

“Like I said, I carry the mark of slavery. I can’t be a free man, none would respect that if I tried to leave. I’d be abducted by another. By being my master, you protect me from that. Only you can ensure the life you want me to have.”

Gerail put a hand over his head and sighed. “That’s why I said branding is stupid! If no one knew you were a former slave, you could live happily.”

“I am living happily.”

Gerail looked up at Harad, who only shook his head.

“But I-”

“Don’t. Look, just don’t question it. I’m happy. If that’s what you’re truly worried about, than I’m happy. You know it, and I know it. That’s all that matters.”

The High King groaned. “God, I’m so confused…”

“Master, just forget about it...there are other pressing matters to discuss, like, say, the approaching army.”

Gerail nodded sadly. “Ah, gods...I’ve taken an empire of stone and ground it to dust.”

“That’s not true.”

“Yes it is!” Gerail insisted. “I’ve led our people to ruin, fractured a mighty kingdom and spread misery to those who follow me!”

“Your enemies did all that, not you.”

“I let it happen.”

Harad snarled. “You tried, sir!”

“And I failed!” Gerail cried. The young monarch stumbled back and collapsed back onto his throne of iron. “I always fail.”

“Master…”

“You can’t prove me wrong there,” the king said with a note of disgust, “I’ve dishonored my family.”

“Your father said no such thing, my lord. He was proud of you.”

“No. He knew I was a worthless leader. He could tell I would ruin everything.”

“But he was proud of you as a person. As his son. He was proud to have someone so honorable as his legacy.”

Gerail blinked, looking up from his throne. “Harad…?”

“I know how hard it is for you to get out there and give orders, the way it makes you quail. I don’t blame you. Your father didn’t blame you. That’s just the way it is.”

The High King lowered his head, teary-eyed. “I-I ruined everything...why can’t I just SPEAK?! Why?! Why does my heart seize when I try to do what my father did effortlessly?!”

“That’s just who you are. You can’t change that.”

“I-if I wasn’t so helpless...if I could just muster the spine to DO something…”

Gerail was jolted by the feeling of a hand planting itself firmly on his shoulder. He looked up to see his friend standing beside him, smiling warmly at him.

“It’s not your fault. I promise.”

Gerail couldn’t help it. He burst into tears, weeping as his friend silently comforted him.

He had let everyone down, everyone who was counting on him. His loyal soldiers and subjects that stood against overwhelming odds for him were all but killed and conquered. The few friends he had left were being dragged down with him when they could have salvaged positions in the new regimes.

But most of all, his father. The one and only High King...for he hesitated to even use the title that was his birthright, so distant were they in skill and ability. He had wanted this unity to last forever...but the tribes were back to their old ways in little under a year after his death.

“I sullied everything,” Gerail muttered, wiping at his face.

“Some things just aren’t meant to be,” Harad assured him, “You tried your hardest, and that’s all that can be asked of you. I promise that your father understands. He told you so, didn’t he?”

“Y-yeah, but…”

“Come on,” the servant offered, “We should leave now. If there’s one thing father WOULD be disappointed with, it’s you getting killed by a bunch of savage raiders!”

The young ruler looked around him, at the hall. A fine carpet, stout stone, and wondrous trophies of glorious conquests...all earned and made by his father.

“...I want to save as many of my father’s things as I can. They don’t deserve them. Father doesn’t deserve to have all his things stolen.”

“I’ll help carry them to the wagon, master! If we get the others I’ll bet we can pack everything away before the enemy gets here!”

…

Progress went swiftly. The rest of the servants and volunteers knew they were running out of time, and so they worked at a breakneck pace to vacate the palace of its valuables.

Along with the treasures and trophies came sentimental objects. Books, poems, gifts and personal objects of reflection. The ruler was sure to get his parent’s ashes before he made one final round in his own room.

Under the bed, he noticed something he had missed the last few times he cleared the room of its things. Getting on his knees he stuck his hands under the sheets draped over the small space under the bed and reached, and…

What he pulled back out made him freeze in place.

In his hand was a small figurine of wood. It was a wooden owl with its wings spread out, with beady eyes staring back at him.

This was the figurine his father had taught him to carve with.

Before he could even process things further, tears were streaming down his face, and a wide smile spread across it.

He ran his thumb over the wood, feeling the imperfections and relishing the memory as that night come flooding back to him. The messy table. The warm fire roaring and crackling beside him. The wooden shavings brushing against his fur. The smell of Linden wood. His father, with an arm across his shoulder pointing at the unfinished figurine, telling him how to proceed.

Gerail’s smile became a grin as he pressed the owl against his chest, hugging it tightly as his face became matted with tears.

He didn’t have an empire anymore, but he had found something much greater.

The memory of a life valued beyond any treasure.

Father...I’m not the man you were...but I’ll keep being the one you’re proud of. I promise.

…

Gerail bumped into Harad as he rounded a corner in the hall. The young slave looked panicked as he addressed the king.

“Sir, I’ve been looking for you! We have to go NOW!”

“Harad? What’s-”

“They’re here!”

The king quickly shook off his shock and broke into a run, his friend rushing beside him.

“The wagons are loaded and ready,” Harad explained, “B-but I don’t think we can outrun them, they’re so close!”

The pair rushed into the main hall and out the front doors, which were wide open. Outside a large collection of men, women and soldiers stood awaiting them.

“Are you alright?!” Rommel probed. The general was identifiable by his sturdy iron-plated armor, which the other soldiers lacked. In addition, he wore a metal cap with a decoratory pelt atop it that showed off his rank.

“I’m fine, let’s go!”

The thundering sound of stomping and cheering caused the group to turn to the side. There, in the forest, a massive collection of wild, snarling warriors rushed toward the palace. The nearby tribe, here to wipe out the last remnants of loyalist rule.

Rommel’s eyes widened for a moment before he closed his eyes. After a few seconds, he looked back at Gerail with a saddened expression.

“It appears my men and I will not be accompanying you on your journey. It’s been an honor to serve, your majesty.”

“W-what?!” Gerail shook his head wildly. “No, no, there's still time! Get on the wagons and-”

“FORMATIONS!” Rommel cried. In no time at all, the axemen and bowmen were in lines, forming a defensive wall between them and the enemy.

Before he could muster another objection, Gerail felt hands grab at him and pull him away.

“W-wait, no! Don’t!”

“We’re out of time!” a servant cried desperately, “We can’t die here!”

Gerail struggled before moving along with the fleeing crowd. “No! Rommel...ROMMEL!”

The general nodded back at the crowd. “Farewell, my king.”

As the group fled to the wagons, Rommel steeled himself. He knew this was the end, but he conducted himself with the same calmness and grace the last king had shown. A straight back, a steely gaze, and a loud but calm voice did wonders to inspire the men.

As the howling warriors approached, Rommel drew his blade, looking at his men one last time.

“We all know why we’re here. We’re only to buy time for the true High King. I am gladdened to have had the privilege to serve alongside you all...NOW GIVE THE BASTARDS YONDER A CHEER!”

…

“It’s not right...it just isn’t right!”

Harad sat beside Gerail inside the wagon. With little room to sit with all the valuable crammed within, the pair sat huddled together. The servant patted the back of his lord and nodded, an understanding look of sadness in his eyes.

“I know, I know.”

“We were so close...why?! Why does this keep happening?! They trusted me!”

“They saved us all!”

“They shouldn’t have had to! They shouldn’t have had to…”

Harad sighed, looking out into the rolling countryside. Alongside them, other wagons were traveling, the final remnants of those that trusted in the young king.

“I know, but what can be done?”

“Rommel and the Thirty-Fourth...they should be here. They deserve to be here, a-and now...and now they’re gone, because of me!”

“It wasn’t your fault!” Harad insisted!

“Yes it was, it was this time! I spent an hour blubbering and wasting everyone’s time and...and if I hadn’t…”

“No!”

The young king turned and saw Harad giving him a serious look.

“We thought they coming at nightfall. We thought we had all day to evacuate. They took us by surprise.”

“But-”

“It’s NOT your fault. It’s all our fault...but there’s nothing that can be done about it. All we can do now is honor their final wishes and make sure this wasn’t in vain. We have to get to safety...for them.”

Gerail put his hands over his face and lamented the situation. Why wouldn’t anything just turn out well?

“After all, it’s like Tacitul always said…‘We owe our greatest burdens to the fallen we knew’.”

The king blinked for a moment, his hands leaving his face as he turned to stare at Harad in bewilderment. “W-wha…? Harad...was that a line from The Jewel?”

“Sure is.”

“I...I thought you couldn’t read.”

Harad let out a giggle. “Maybe I taught myself by watching you. And MAYBE I…‘borrowed’ some of your favorite books.”

Gerail was silent for a moment before his frown curled into a smile. He began to laugh, and Harad joined him.

…

Gerail stepped out of the wagon, looking around him. A small crowd of loyalists were stopped in a rocky plain of snow and dirt. Dead trees were all around them, and the wagon-train had come to a stop.

“Well, what do you think?” one of the others probed, “It’s a pretty safe location to start building. You can continue your rule from here, with the safety of the southern border guarding our flank.”

Gerail thought it over for a moment. He almost meekly agreed as he saw the crowd looked ready to set up camp...but then he got to thinking.

What would he do? Eke out a living in the barren wilderness of the rough tundra around them? Continue the fight and set up a “state” so pathetic the other tribes wouldn't even bother to put his rule out of its misery? Claim rulership of the united kingdom that didn’t exist anymore, and had no hope of returning under him?

“No.”

The others were surprised by his answer. He had never spoken so firmly in denial before.

“S-sir?”

“I...I’ve HAD IT!” Gerail roared, “I’ve had it with all this nonsense! I’ve had it with this statecraft, this stupid kingdom! I’m finished with this murder and killing and robbery and slavery! NO! I’m NOT doing it all over again!”

The High King removed his iron crown and threw it to the ground with a heavy clang, shocking everyone. The crowd gasped as they watched him rage and rant in such a manner. He had always been meek and deferential. To watch him finally crack…

“M-master…?” Harad looked at him nervously with the crown in his hands, having hastily scooped it up off the ground. He timidly held it out to the king.

Gerail gestured to the wagons. “Load it in the wagon. I’m not wearing it anymore. We’re leaving.”

“Sir? Where will we go?”

Gerail furrowed his brows at he looked over to the horizon. “...We’re going to Geralthin.”

…

The trip had taken most of the day. As last, however, they came to a stop.

A few hours into Geralthin yielded a tangible result. Stepping out into the clearing, Gerail found a verdant forest surrounding the open, grassy clearing. The setting sun left vibrant hues of pinks and oranges in the sky. With a comfortable base of operations, surrounded by natural barriers…

“I think...I think this is it,” Gerail said quietly.

The others were gazing around the clearing, eyes alight with wonder and curiosity.

“So this is what Geralthin is like…” one of them muttered.

“Wow...look at the trees!”

Harad walked over to the king, head tilting to the side. “Sir? Is this...our stop?”

“Yes...yes, this is it. Let’s set up here.”

“What will we do, sir?”

Gerail smiled. “We’ll live. No more of this warring, tireless nights and unending struggling. We’ll just live our own lives and be happy. Let’s make a village and be merry. We’ll start with making cabins for everyone!”

Harad grinned. “That sounds lovely, sir! I can’t wait to get started!”

Gerail frowned. “Ah, that’s right. Someone! Get me an ink quill and some parchment.”

The others obliged, getting some writing material from the supplies loaded on the wagon-train. Gerail hastily scribbled something down on parchment.

Taking an interest, Harad leaned over, eyes on the blank side of the sheet. “What are you up to, master?”

“Just a moment...there!” Gerail stopped righting and cleared his throat. “People! Gather around! I have an announcement!”

The crowd of survivors quickly ceased their exploring of the land and ran to gather in front of their king. With all of them waiting, Gerail raised his voice.

“With the power invested in me, I hereby pass this decree into law! This clearing is now New Oakwall! Furthermore, I declare myself Mayor of New Oakwall!”

The crowd cheered with a notable degree of zeal, everyone seeming excited by this declaration.

“Secondly...I, King Gerail, hereby...ABDICATE from my position as High King of the Unified Dacun Empire!”

The cheers quickly became dismayed cried and shocked sputterings of disbelief.

“W-what?! Master?!”

Gerail turned to look at his old friend Harad. “Master...master! It’s interesting you call me that, for third on my list is this...as Mayor of New Oakwall, I hereby ban the practice of slavery in all of its forms within our land!”

Even more chattering and cries. He had flipped everyone’s expectations on their heads in one fell swoop.

“S-sir, are you...are you sure about this?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” Gerail spoke firmly. For the first time he could remember, speaking in front of all these people...his heart did not quail, he felt no knots in his stomach. He was...serene.

“Come on, people. We’re not retaking the empire. I think that’s obvious. Let’s just focus on this humble valley, and building the best lives we can for ourselves. Furthermore, there is no place for slaves and masters here. Today...we’re all just settlers.”

Harad gave the now past-king a guilty smile, rubbing at his arm. “Heheh...I suppose my branding argument holds no water in a foreign land where none care about such marks.”

Gerail smirked. “That’s right...my friend. From now on, you’re a free man, with undeniable rights. No more ‘master’ or ‘sir’, understand?”

“Well, actually...you’re still my mayor, sir.”

Gerail rolled his eyes and groaned. “I hereby call for an election in a week’s time.

“Oh, Gerail!”

The former king chuckled. “Alright, alright...let’s get moving people! Get the tools and start cutting at the trees! We need shelter for the night ahead!”

As the group left for the wagons, Gerail took a moment to gaze at the setting sun.

Everyone that had worked to get to this point, everyone that had given all to get the king here...it wouldn’t be in vain.

They had given the last remnants of the kingdom a future to believe in, a place free of fear and suffering.

General Rommel and his men, the loyal army, the servants and raiders, all the families...and mother and father. Their efforts had paid off. They had brought them to this new place.

“Home,” Gerail whispered to himself.

…

There was some confusion when the humans stumbled upon a wolfman colony on their side of the border. What they thought was an invasion force quickly worked to rectify the situation.

They were simply escaped slaves seeking a better life, they had explained.

It wasn’t EXACTLY a lie, plus the branding marks lent credence to that story.

In the end, the loyal nobles decided they could stay, so long as they didn’t start trouble. Their leader assured the humans they wanted nothing more than to live in peace and harmony with their benefactors.

That same leader quickly made friends with a nearby human village, and soon enough the wolfmen were considered locals.

It seemed Gerail had finally found the passion, courage and character within himself needed to lead. A shame it came too late to save the kingdom, but at least he could lead his fellows in the village to peace and prosperity.

None knew of their true origins, that the small village was led by the true heir to the High Kingdom of the wolfmen, the son of Seigot Ironheart, the legendary conqueror.

But that was how they liked it. The victorious wolfman tribes assumed Gerail’s band of survivors got lost and died somewhere in the wilderness. They turned on each other, and in no time at all the wolfmen were more divided than they had ever been.

Unbeknownst to the rest of this world, if one were to enter the village of the quiet and friendly wolfmen, and they were to enter the temple dedicated to Asvarnin, the God of Sin, they would find something remarkable.

The temple itself is humble and plain, and the villagers arrive to pray to the God of Sin for absolution and atonement for all living things. No outsiders are permitted to enter the underground floor, but if one somehow snuck past the guards...they would find a room full of precious artifacts underneath. Things that used to belong to the High King of the wolfmen.

At the far end of the room, past all the treasures and artifacts, one would find two things of note. First would be the pair of urns that contained the ashes of the First High King and his wife.

Secondly, a large tablet with a long list of names. From Segiot to Rommel, this was a memorial to all the people the prince to the throne knew, and those that perished to grant him his second chance at life.

No one knew of this, of course. They were just escaped slaves with a friendly disposition. They visited the humans, and the humans visited them. They helped one another and flourished together out on the northern frontier, forging mighty bonds between their people.

For the rest of their lives, the former king and his subjects lived happily as the freemen of New Oakwall.

Tag list: @thereisnothingwrongwithbeingmad, @lady-redshield-writes, @paper-shield-and-wooden-sword, @sheralynnramsey, @tawnywrites, @writer-on-time, @oceanwriter, @zwergis-spilledink, @fluffpiggy, @elliewritesfantasy, @homesteadchronicles, @laurenwastestimewriting, @elaynab-writing, @the-ichor-of-ruination, @candy687, @fierywords, @shewrites-sometimes, @nerds-and-nebulae, @purpleshadows1989

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radicalcannoliqueen · 5 years

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Tag Game!

Rules: Answer seventeen questions and tag seventeen people you wanna get to know better

Tagged by @bog-les-bian (Thanks for tagging me!! Hit me up whenever!)

Nickname: Mikki

Zodiac sign: Cancer sun, Gemini moon, Gemini Rising

Height: 5′1 on a good day

Hogwarts house: Ravenclaw

Last thing I googled: The song list for the musical “Leader of the Pack”

Song stuck in my head: SOS by ABBA, Hard to Handle by The Black Crowes, Season of the Witch by Donovan, Show and Tell by Melanie Martinez, and The Record Player Song by Daisy the Great

Following: 370

Followers: 70 on main, 366 on my side blog @westcoaststrega

Amount of sleep I get: Usually 6-8 but sometimes my body hates me and will wake me up at the ass crack of dawn with only 3-4

Lucky number: 4 or 29

Dream job: I really want to teach English as a foreign language!! I love reading and writing, plus I’d get the opportunity to travel to different countries and teach!

Wearing: Skinny jeans, a floral tank top, a long cardigan with pockets, a cimaruta necklace, and beige ankle boots

Favorite song: AH SHIT there’s so many!! Uhhhhh right now they’re probably Not Alone from A Very Potter Musical, Do You Wanna Touch Me (Oh Yeah) by Joan Jett and the Blackhearts, Run Around Sue by Dion, and Tomorrow or Go Go by BTS

Instruments: I mean i used to play the Xylophone in 5th grade but now I just sing while my sister tries to peer pressure me into learning how to play the ukulele

Random fact: My sister once called me a scoliosis queen and it is now a part of my brand since my wack back has been screwing me over since 2012

Aesthetics: Vintage/Retro, floral, witchy, BOOKS, country or cottage things? Like small town stuff in general

@theawkwardvirgin @thewinterose @innocentartemis @aaliyah-draws @olymposhiraeth @alec-the-witch @trad-witchboi @ronaldsfreckles @alder-witch @lesbianuotani @tohru-honda @ad-astrum @maidsonas @raisingwildrabbits @chaliceandsword @actualtreetbh @pearl-likes-pi

#me #asks #mine

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magratpudifoot · 5 years

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Anti-Love Collection Track List

Below the cut is a list of every track on every disc of the Anti-Love Album. I thought pretty seriously about going through and linking to music videos and bandcamp and whatnot, but, yeah, that’s not happening tonight.

Disc One(Chaotic/Static Cling Enterprises)

1. Could You Use Me? Harry Groener and Jodi Benson 2. Hit the Road, Jack Ray Charles and the Raelettes 3. Down with Love Caxton Swing 4. You're No Good Linda Ronstadt 5. It Ain't Me, Babe The Turtles 6. Already Gone The Eagles 7. Paradise By the Dashboard Light Meatloaf 8. Don't Believe a Word Andy Taylor 9. I Will Survive Gloria Gaynor 10. I've Done Everything for You Rick Springfield 11. Love Stinks The J. Geils Band 12. Don't You Want Me The Human League 13. Goodbye to You Scandal 14. Love's Been a Little Bit Hard on Me Juice Newton 15. I Could Be Happy Altered Images 16. What Do All the People Know The Monroes 17. Jukebox (Don't Put Another Dime) The Flirts 18. No More Words Berlin 19. She Don't Love Nobody Nick Lowe 20. So In Love Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark 21. Let Your Love Go Bread

Disc Two(Chaotic/Static Cling Enterprises) 1. Would I Lie to You Eurythmics 2. Keep Your Hands to Yourself The Georgia Satellites 3. Twisting They Might Be Giants 4. I Don't Want Your Love Duran Duran 5. One More Minute Weird Al Yankovic 6. What Part of No Cactus Country 7. Itty Bitty Little Single Solitary Piece O' My Heart Lari White 8. That Was Yesterday Wynonna Judd 9. Jane Barenaked Ladies 10. Better Things to Do Terri Clark 11. Bury the Shovel Clay Walker 12. No News Lonestar 13. Spiderwebs No Doubt 14. She Won't Change Her Mind The Band with Rocks In 15. Me Neither Brad Paisley 16. Waste Smash Mouth 17. Goodbye Earl Dixie Chicks 18. Giving up on Love Ataris 19. Kiss This Aaron Tippin 20. Last Chance to Lose Your Keys Brand New 21. It's Only Me (The Wizard of Magicland) Barenaked Ladies

Disc Three(Aberration, Inc.) 1. Can't Hold Us Down Christina Aguilera feat. Lil Kim 2. The Frug Rilo Kiley 3. A Man/Me/Then Jim Rilo Kiley 4. Nothing Came Out The Mouldy Peaches 5. All That She Wants Ace of Base 6. You Oughta Know Alanis Morissette 7. The More You Ruv Someone Avenue Q 8. Roses Outkast 9. Day Tripper Live 10. Sexx Laws Beck 11. Vienna Billy Joel 12. Sunday Girl Blondie 13. You Don't Own Me The Blow Monkeys 14. You Give Love a Bad Name Bon Jovi 15. Protons, Neutrons, Electrons Cat Empire 16. Girls Just Wanna Have Fun Cyndi Lauper 17. Mix Tape Avenue Q 18. 31st & M The Daycare Stranglers 19. Fuck It (I Don't Want You Back) Eamon 20. Inside Out Eve 6 21. Beep The Pussycat Dolls feat. will.i.am

Disc Four(Aberration, Inc.) 1. Just One of Those Things Frank Sinatra 2. Just Friends Gavin Degraw 3. Defying Gravity Idina Menzel and Kristin Chenoweth 4. Sugar Tick Tick Boom Cast 5. Gold Digger Kanye West feat. Jamie Foxx 6. Bag of Money The Low Life 7. Scotty Doesn't Know Lustra 8. I'm So Alone The Mad Caddies 9. World at Large Modest Mouse 10. Get Over It OK Go 11. People Got to Be Free The Rascals 12. Tainted Love Soft Cell 13. Don't Do Me Like That Tom Petty 14. What's Love Got to Do with It Tina Turner 15. He Wasn't Man Enough Toni Braxton 16. Undone (The Sweater Song) Weezer 17. Funny Honey Renee Zellweger 18. I'll Never Be Jealous Again Reta Shaw and Eddie Foy, Jr. 19. Everyone Else Has Had More Sex Than Me Ambient Irony 20. Dirty Little Secret All American Rejects

Disc Five(Chaotic/Static Cling Enterprises) 1. Will you Love Me Tomorrow The Shirelles 2. Desperate But Not Serious Adam Ant 3. Ready to Run Dixie Chicks 4. I'm Gonna Miss Her Brad Paisley 5. Love Is Hell Ryan Adams 6. It Ain't None of Your Business Missing Persons 7. Stupid Boy Keith Urban 8. Before He Cheats Carrie Underwood 9. You Don't Love Me Anymore Weird Al Yankovic 10. The Song That Goes Like This Christopher Sieber and Sara Ramirez 11. (I'm Gonna) Run Away Joan Jett and the Blackhearts 12. I'm Not in Love Talking Heads 13. You Keep Me Hangin' On Kim Wilde 14. Don't Let's Start Common Rotation 15. That's Enough of That Mila Mason 16. Leave in Silence Depeche Mode 17. Sign of the Times The Belle Stars 18. Break Your Heart Barenaked Ladies 19. Signs of Life Journey 20. Cell Block Tango The Six Merry Murderesses of Cook County Jail

Disc Six(Aberration, Inc.) 1. Designated Drinker Alan Jackson and George Strait 2. Video Game Heart All Girl Summer Fun Band 3. Twisting They Might Be Giants 4. Fighter Christina Aguilera 5. Found Out About You Gin Blossom 6. What Is This Feeling Kristin Chenoweth and Idina Menzel 7. Therapy Amy Spranger and Raul Esparza 8. Since U Been Gone Kelly Clarkson 9. Number One John Legend feat. Kanye West 10. Material Girl Madonna 11. Build Me Up, Buttercup The Goops 12. Schadenfreude Natalie Venetia Belcon and Rick Lyon 13. Happy Now Gwen Stefani 14. Why Don't You Get a Job Offspring 15. Cry Me a River Justin Timberlake 16. Ugly Ugly Mustache Girl The Skakabobs 17. You Don't Know How It Feels Tom Petty 18. Pink Triangle Weezer 19. Let Me Be Lonely Will Hoge 20. Buttons The Pussycat Dolls 21. My Love (The Christian Bale Experience) Sweet Tired Kitten

Disc Seven(Chaotic/Static Cling Enterprises) 1. Let's Hear It For Love Smoking Popes 2. She Hates Me Puddle of Mudd 3. In and Out of My Life (In a Day) The Pandoras 4. Cry of the Wild Goose Frankie Laine 5. Way Away Yellowcard 6. Blue Monday New Order 7. Kerosene Miranda Lambert 8. Don't Shed a Tear Paul Carrack 9. Ghost of Love The Proclaimers 10. I Write Sins Not Tragedies Panic at the Disco 11. Smile Lily Allen 12. Goodbye Says It All BlackHawk 13. Careless Memories Duran Duran 14. Nowhere Girl B-Movie 15. Hard to Be a Husband, Hard to Be a Wife Chely Wright and Brad Paisley 16. Not About Love Fiona Apple 17. Take Out the Trash They Might Be Giants 18. U + Ur Hand Pink 19. Good News Neurotic Outsiders 20. Love You Jack Ingram 21. Time for Me to Fly REO Speedwagon 22. What Is This Thing Called Love? John Barrowman

Disc Eight(Aberration, Inc.) 1. Stripped, Part 2 Christina Aguilera 2. Girls Lie, Too Terri Clark 3. What Goes Around Comes Around Justin Timberlake 4. Believe Cher 5. Subtract One Love (Multiply the Heartaches) Cake 6. Knock 'Em Out Lily Allen 7. All That She Wants Ace of Base 8. You Don't Love Me The Kooks 9. You're So Damn Hot OK Go 10. Billie Jean Michael Jackson 11. Losin' You Amy Millan 12. Oh, Goddamnit Hot Hot Heat 13. You Oughta Know Alanis Morissette 14. You Don't Own Me The Blow Monkeys 15. Girls Beastie Boys 16. Next Ex-Girlfriend Bowling for Soup 17. Never There Cake 18. You Are Everything The Low Life

Disc Nine(Chaotic/Static Cling Enterprises) 1. Love Potion No. 9 The Searchers 2. My Lovin' (You're Never Gonna Get It) En Vogue 3. Liberty Duran Duran 4. Da Da Da I Don't Love You You Don't Love Me Aha Aha Aha Trio 5. Hole in My Head Dixie Chicks 6. Your Woman White Town 7. Murderess Power Station 8. Good as Gone Little Big Town 9. One Night in Bangkok Murray Head 10. Endicott Kid Creole & the Coconuts 11. Kiss You Off Scissor Sisters 12. I'll Take You Back Brad Paisley 13. New Toy Lene Lovich 14. Every Word Means No Let's Active 15. Broke in Two They Might Be Giants 16. My Friends Johnny Depp and Helena Bonham Carter 17. He Can't Quit Her Gary Allan 18. When You're in Love The Proclaimers 19. Don't Think You'll Be Missed Aileen Stanley with the Virginians 20. Why Say Anything Nice? Barenaked Ladies

Disc Ten(Aberration, Inc.) 1. Don't Trust Me 3OH!3 2. Atari Lucky Boys Confusion 3. Get Over It OK Go 4. So What Pink 5. Have I Been a Fool Jack Penate 6. Flavor of the Weak American Hi-Fi 7. There's a Fine, Fine Line Stephanie D'Abrazzo 8. 99 Problems Jay-Z 9. Don't Want You Back Backstreet Boys 10. You Turn the Screws Cake 11. Breakin' Up Rilo Kiley 12. More Boys I Meet Carrie Underwood 13. They'll Need a Crane They Might Be Giants 14. Should've Said No Taylor Swift 15. Hound Dog Elvis Presley 16. Take Me or Leave Me Rent 17. Your Kisses are Wasted on Me The Pipettes 18. Just a Girl No Doubt 19. Bust Your Windows Jazmine Sullivan 20. Single Ladies (Put a Ring on It) Beyonce Knowles 21. There You Go Pink

Disc Eleven(Chaotic/Static Cling Enterprises) 1. I Hate Myself for Loving You Joan Jett 2. Her Royal Majesty James Darren 3. What If I'm Right? Sandi Thom 4. I Hear You Knockin' Fats Domino 5. Go Your Own Way Fleetwood Mac 6. He'll Have to Stay Jeanne Black 7. Du Hast Rammstein 8. Ampersand Amanda Palmer 9. Another Girl The Beatles 10. Can't Do It Today Gary Allan 11. No Scrubs TLC 12. Cold Cold Heart Tony Bennett 13. Gunpowder and Lead Miranda Lambert 14. True Romance She Wants Revenge 15. Brand New Lover Dead or Alive 16. Ex-Girlfriend No Doubt 17. Nothing Suits Me Like a Suit Neil Patrick Harris, et al 18. Don't Say You Love Me Erasure 19. Red Rubber Ball Cyrkle 20. Strange Reba McEntire 21. Mr. Spock Nerf Herder 22. See You Later Alligator Bill Haley and His Comets

Disc Twelve(Aberration, Inc.) 1. Right as Rain Adele 2. She Ain't Got LeToya Luckett 3. Fly on the Wall Miley Cyrus 4. Telephone Lady Gaga feat. Beyoncé 5. Love Drunk Boys Like Girls 6. Bye Bye JoDee Messina 7. Analysis of a 1970s Divorce David Dondero 8. I'm Not Crying Flight of the Conchords 9. Every Breath You Take Police 10. You Owe Me an IOU Hot Hot Heat 11. It's Over John Legend feat. Kanye West 12. Mood Ring Relient K 13. Picture to Burn Taylor Swift 14. Gives You Hell All American Rejects 15. Hit Em Up Style Blu Cantrell 16. Beautiful Girls Sean Kingston 17. It's Oh So Quiet Bjork 18. Pastures Lil' Justice

Disc Thirteen(Chaotic/Static Cling Enterprises) 1. Fox on the Run Sweet 2. Angel in Your Arms Hot 3. Say It Right Nelly Furtado 4. Gimme Three Steps Lynyrd Skynyrd 5. Heartbreaker Pat Benatar 6. Don't Bet Money, Honey Linda Scott 7. Two Out of Three Ain't Bad Meatloaf 8. Too Many Fish in the Sea The Marvelettes 9. Pet Name They Might Be Giants 10. Cold as Ice Foreigner 11. Jezebel Frankie Laine 12. Dark Lady Cher 13. (She's So) Selfish The Knack 14. Evil Woman Electric Light Orchestra 15. Lipstick on Your Collar Connie Francis 16. Stereo John Legend 17. Too Fast James Marsters 18. I Don't Wanna Go on with You Like That Elton John 19. It's My Life Talk Talk 20. Cold Hearted Paula Abdul

Disc Fourteen: Suck It, Marshall(Chaotic/Static Cling Enterprises) 1. Told You So Barenaked Ladies 2. The Sign Ace of Base 3. Bulletproof La Roux 4. Victim of Love Erasure 5. I'll Never Fall in Love Again Kristin Chenoweth and Sean Hayes 6. Are You Fucking Kidding Me? Kate Miller-Heidke 7. Leeds United Amanda Palmer and the Born Again Horny Men of Edinburgh 8. Bringin' Me Down Andy Taylor 9. Alejandro Lady Gaga 10. Go Where You Wanna Go The Mamas and the Papas 11. Hate on Me Jill Scott 12. Shop Around Smokey Robinson and the Miracles 13. Anti-Love Song Raven-Symoné 14. Don't Come Around Here No More Tom Petty 15. King of Anything Sara Bareilles 16. Endgame Tommy Körberg and Barbara Dickson 17. I Am a Rock Simon and Garfunkel 18. Don't Ask Me OK Go 19. Gonna Get Along Without Ya Now Patience and Prudence 20. I Quit Hepburn 21. The Mixed Tape Jack's Mannequin

Disc Fourteen-and-a-Half: The Robot Falls in Love (Static Cling) 1. Rolling in the Deep Adele 2. Rolling in the Deep David Choi 3. Rolling in the Deep Jodie Aysha 4. Rolling in the Deep Kina Grannis 5. Rolling in the Deep David Cook 6. Rolling in the Deep Wonderland 7. Rolling in the Deep PS22 Chorus feat. Denise 8. Rolling in the Deep Adele, Jay-Z, Biggie Smalls, and Voodoo Farm 9. Rolling in the Deep Tahj Mowry 10. Rolling in the Deep Tim Halperin 11. Rolling in the Deep Melissa Tojones 12. Rolling in the Deep Mike Posner 13. Rolling in the Deep Chris Ning 14. Rolling in the Deep Haley Reinhart 15. Rolling in the Deep Darius Dante 16. Rolling in the Deep John Legend 17. Rolling in the Deep (live on Ellen) Adele

Disc Fifteen(Aberration, Inc.)

1. Just You Wait My Fair Lady 2. You Can Make Him Like You The Hold Steady 3. Like a Boy Ciara 4. Marionette The Marvelettes 5. Through with You Maroon 5 6. Bye Bye Baby Janis Joplin 7. Let It Die Foo Fighters 8. Blow It Out Ludacris 9. Take It Easy (Love Nothing) Bright Eyes 10. The Line Skakabobs 11. Fuck You Cee Lo Green 12. Grenade Bruno Mars 13. Jar of Hearts Christina Perri 14. Love the Way You Lie Eminem feat. Rihanna 15. Potential Break-Up song Aly & AJ 16. Cooler Than Me Mike Posner 17. What the Hell Avril Lavigne 18. Tired Adele 19. My Give a Damn's Busted JoDee Messina 20. Ignorance Paramore 21. Hot and Cold Katy Perry

Disc Sixteen(Chaotic/Static Cling Enterprises) 1. Almost Sorry Scissor Sisters 2. Drama! Erasure 3. Stop Draggin' My Heart Around Stevie Nicks and Tom Petty 4. Runaway Baby Bruno Mars 5. I Have Learned Barenaked Ladies 6. All Cried Out Redux Jill Scott (feat. Doug E. Fresh) 7. If Only Grey Delisle and Neil Patrick Harris 8. Nobody's Side Elaine Paige and Murray Head 9. Human Charlene Kaye 10. Maneater Hall & Oates 11. Mr. Big Stuff Jean Knight 12. Used to Love U John Legend 13. Bad Medicine Bon Jovi 14. Treat Me Right Pat Benatar 15. We'll Sing in the Sunshine Gale Garnett 16. The Last Song Tim Halperin 17. Bills, Bills, Bills Darren Criss and the Warblers 18. Modern Girl Sheena Easton 19. Chain of Fools Aretha Franklin 20. Dreams Be Dreams Jack Johnson

Disc Seventeen(Chaotic/Static Cling Enterprises) 1. Dead Memories Slipknot 2. Poison Alice Cooper 3. Paper Gangsta Lady Gaga 4. Maneater Nelly Furtado 5. These Boots Are Made for Walkin' Nancy Sinatra 6. 50 Ways to Leave Your Lover Paul Simon 7. Stutter Joe Walker 8. Solitaire Laura Branigan 9. Runaround Sue Dion and the Beltones 10. Life Goes On Little Texas 11. Me Party Amy Adams and Eric Jacobsen 12. Coin-Operated Boy The Dresden Dolls 13. Smoochy Smoochy Pukey Pukey Harry and the Potters 14. I Know There's Something Going On Frida 15. Evil Ways Santana 16. Your Cheating Heart Joni James 17. Harden My Heart Quarterflash 18. Rest in Peace James Marsters 19. That'll Be the Day Linda Ronstadt 20. (I'm Not Your) Stepping Stone The Monkees 21. Na Na Hey Hey Kiss Him Goodbye Steam

Disc Seventeen-Plus(Static Cling) 1. Ready to Go (excerpt) Nicholas Strauss and Brian Holden 2. Please Don't Touch Me Megan Mullally 3. I Want You, But I Don't Need You Momus 4. The Longest Text Message Childish Gambino 5. Makin' Whoopie Amanda Palmer 6. Fuck You/Gonna Get Over You Sara Bareilles 7. Getting Rid of Britta Eric Christian Olsen, Chevy Chase, and Tom Wolfe 8. Geek in the Pink Jason Mraz 9. Look It Up Ashton Shepherd 10. Poison Bel Biv DeVoe 11. Used to Love Her Guns N' Roses 12. Irreplaceable Beyoncé (feat. Ghostface Killah) 13. How to Write a Love Song Axis of Awesome 14. The Girl Next Door (To Everybody Else) George Watsky 15. I'm Tired Madeline Kahn 16. Jubilation Day Steve Martin and the Steep Canyon Rangers 17. Making Circles Christian Kane 18. Tyrone Erykah Badu 19. The Rake's Song The Decemberists 20. The Succubus Isaac Hayes and Trey Parker 21. There Ain't Nothing Like a Dick Nicholas Strauss and Devin Lytle

Disc Eighteen(Static Cling) 1. She Runs Tim Halperin 2. Boy Toy Tanya and the Hot Girls 3. Misery Maroon 5 4. Grown Man Cry Amanda Palmer and the Grand Theft Orchestra 5. Ooh La La Counting Crows 6. The Truth About Love P!nk 7. Bones Gary Allan 8. Good Girl Carrie Underwood 9. I Don't Think She's in Love Anymore Charlie Pride 10. I'm Not Your Toy La Roux 11. Kids Childish Gambino 12. Lesson in Leavin' Jo Dee Messina 13. Mockingbird Rob Thomas 14. Say You're Sorry Sara Bareilles 15. Can't Wait to Say No to You TalkFine 16. You Lie The Band Perry 17. I'll Feel a Whole Let Better The Byrds 18. Turn on the Radio Reba McEntire 19. Bye Bye Baby OK Go 20. Leave the Pieces The Wreckers

Disc Nineteen(Static Cling) 1. Rumour Has It Adele 2. Woman Up Charlene Kaye 3. No Surprise Daughtry 4. Nylons in a Rip Nikka Costa 5. How Am I Doin'? Dierks Bentley 6. Hermione The Moaning Myrtles 7. Baby Don't Get Hooked on Me Mac Davis 8. The Apartment Song Tom Petty 9. I'm Like a Bird Nelly Furtado 10. At Seventeen Janis Ian 11. Le Disko Shiny Toy Guns 12. Strippers Ghost of the Robot 13. You Don't Like Me They Might Be Giants 14. Shame on You Jerry Minor 15. The More I Learn (The Less I Understand About Love) Ronna Reeves 16. Bad Blood Natalie Lungley 17. To Be a Man Brian Holden and Joseph Walker 18. Her Daddy Was a Dalek, Her Mummy Was a Non-Stick Frying Pan Martin Gordon 19. Men The Forester Sisters 20. Rashida Jones Prometheus Brown and Bambu 21. All You Really Need Is Love Brad Paisley 22. Alone with You Jake Owen 23. Wind It Up Barenaked Ladies

Disc Twenty(Static Cling) 1. You Will See Me dan le sac Vs Scroobius Pip 2. Pumpkin Soup Kate Nash 3. Girls Ain't Nothing but Trouble The Fresh Prince and DJ Jazzy Jeff 4. Sigh No More Catherine Tate and David Tennant 5. Tough Goodbye Gary Allan 6. Survivor Destiny's Child 7. Trade Mistakes Panic at the Disco 8. I Don't Wanna Be in Love Good Charlotte 9. Poison Apple Charlene Kaye 10. Hey Robin, Jolly Robin Paterson Joseph 11. Sitting, Waiting, Wishing Jack Johnson 12. Blow Me (One Last Kiss) P!nk 13. Better off with Him A 14. Let Her Rip Dixie Chicks 15. Don't Think Twice It's All Right Bob Dylan 16. Shut Up Black Eyed Peas 17. I Hate Everything About You Three Day's Grace 18. Eden Sara Bareilles 19. Amsterdam Guster 20. Erase Me Ben Folds Five 21. Good Day The Dresden Dolls

Disc Twenty.Five: Keep Your Hands off Will You Damn Fancy Cannibal(Static Cling) 1. Goldberg Variations: Aria Glenn Gould 2. Sympathy for the Devil The Rolling Stones 3. Fee Fi Fo The Cranberries 4. Civilized Man James Marsters 5. A Place Called Home Kim Richey 6. Gravity The Dresden Dolls 7. For Reasons Unknown The Killers 8. A Formidable Marinade Mikelangelo and the Black Sea Gentlemen 9. Your Own Worst Enemy They Might Be Giants 10. Temptation VAST 11. Exterminate, Regenerate Chameleon Circuit 12. Thankless Job Anthony Stewart Head 13. Demons Guster 14. Let's Kill Tonight Panic at the Disco 15. Crime and Passion Duran Duran 16. Polly Nirvana 17. Hello, My Treacherous Friends OK Go 18. I Know Things Now Danielle Ferland 19. Monster Lady Gaga 20. One Tiny Thing 8in8 21. Stand By Me Mona 22. Vide Cor Meum Patrick Cassidy 23. Hannibal (Censored) oswinlost

Disc Twenty-One: The Oklahoma Legacy OR Musical Anachronism(Static Cling) 1. Girl in a Country Song Maddie & Tae 2. Mister Nice Guy Invisible Inc. 3. You Don't Know What Love Is (You Just Do As You're Told) The White Stripes 4. What You Call Love Guster 5. Because It's Not Love (But It's Still a Feeling) The Pipettes 6. Upside Down Barenaked Ladies 7. Lasso Sister Sparrow and the Dirty Birds 8. Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down) Nico Vega 9. If Your Kisses Can't Hold the Man That You Love Rasputina 10. Epiphany Chrisette Michele 11. Wishing He Was Dead The Like 12. Stunner dan le sac Vs Scroobius Pip 13. Forgot to Laugh Bridgit Mendler 14. Delayed Devotion Duffy 15. Switch TLC 16. I Love It Icona Pop feat. Charli XCX 17. Leaving You Behind Amanda Blank 18. Love Don't Love You En Vogue 19. Drowning Banks 20. Building a Wall Brian d'Arcy James 21. Truce The Dresden Dolls

Disc Twenty-Two(Static Cling) 1. Dickhead Kate Nash 2. Love Is Like a Bottle of Gin The Magnetic Fields 3. Same Old Love Selena Gomez 4. Burn Phillipa Soo 5. Turn Me Loose Loverboy 6. So Long Guster 7. Free Fallin' Tom Petty 8. Love Sick Bob Dylan 9. Look for the Woman dan le sac and Scroobius Pip 10. Opposite of Blue Raining Jane 11. Leave Barenaked Ladies 12. L.A. Devotee Panic at the Disco 13. How to Be a Heartbreaker Marina and the Diamonds 14. The Sad Truth Shauna Carrick 15. Here Alessia Cara 16. Hungover Heart Gary Allan 17. Cupid's Got a Shotgun Carrie Underwood 18. Ex's & Oh's Elle King 19. If This Is It Huey Lewis and the News 20. You Rascal You Hanni El Khatib 21. Merry Happy Kate Nash

Disc Twenty-Three(Static Cling) 1. Casanova (Your Playing Days Are Over) Ruby Andrews 2. You Finally Said Something Good (When You Said Goodbye) Teddy Thompson 3. Allez-vous En Kate & Anna McGarrigle 4. By the Sea Helena Bonham Carter and Johnny Depp 5. One Night Stand The Pipettes 6. You Can't Go By That Ricochet 7. Goodies Ciara feat. Petey Pablo 8. Neutron Dance Pointer Sisters 9. Trouble Avicii 10. Smoke Rings in the Dark Gary Allan 11. So Gone John Legend 12. You're Easy on the Eyes Terri Clark 13. Better to Leave Jordan Brown 14. Second Chance Shinedown 15. Ballad of Mr. Steak Kishi Bashi 16. Hunter's Kiss Rasputina 17. The Jeep Song The Dresden Dolls 18. My First Stalker Watsky 19. Parasites San Fermin 20. End Love OK Go

Disc Twenty-Four(Static Cling) 1. Doin' It By Myself Guster 2. Me, Myself, and I G-Eazy feat. Bebe Rexha 3. Duct Tape Heart Barenaked Ladies 4. Instant Pleasure Rufus Wainwright 5. Please Don't Tell Her Jason Mraz 6. Mr. Know It All Kelly Clarkson 7. Set Me Free Leela James 8. Turning Tables Adele 9. Hard Hearted Hannah Bea Arthur 10. Here I Go Again Whitesnake 11. 455 Rocket Kathy Matea 12. She Had the World Panic! at the Disco 13. Heartbeat Childish Gambino 14. Your Love Is a Lie Simple Plan 15. Flake Jack Johnson 16. Little Rock Reba McEntire 17. Four Little Diamonds Electric Light Orchestra 18. What Makes You Cry The Proclaimers 19. The Fog Overcoats 20. Sorry Beyonce 21. Motherfucker Got Fucked Up Folk Uke

Disc Twenty-Five(Static Cling) 1. Welcome to Hell Saoirse Ronan, Cecliy Strong, Kate McKinnon, Aidy Bryant 2. A Kiss Is Not a Contract Flight of the Conchords 3. Leave Me Alone The Veronicas 4. Simple Machine Guster 5. I'm Moving On Chyvonne Scott 6. Daddy Lessons Beyonce 7. As the Crow Flies Gary Allan 8. Five Minutes dan le sac vs. Scroobius Pip 9. Love Will Tear Us Apart Joy Division 10. Now I Know Lari White 11. That's My Girl Fifth Harmony 12. Bling Bling Junglepussy 13. Bye Bye Bye *NSync 14. It Was a Shit Show Santino Fontana 15. Paper Mache (Single A.F.) Miss Eaves 16. Daria Cake 17. Sleeping Beauty Helen Trevillion 18. Justice for Lavender Shauna Carrick 19. Philosopher San Fermin 20. No Means No (But So Do Other Things, Too!) Grumpy Princess 21. Flirtin' El Pus 22. Pink Lemonade Watsky with Invisible Inc. 23. Stake a Claim dan le sac vs. Scroobius Pip

#anti-love #music #music I love

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