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redcherrykook · 5 months ago

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── ˙✧°📷 TORN PICTURES AND FROZEN LENSES 1

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College Photography Teacher!Jungkook x Student!Reader

27 year old, stupidly handsome asshole teacher Mr. Jeon has absolutely no human decency, he believes your victim complex is what keeps you from ever achieving anything, letting people use you as a bridge. When something unexpected happens, the ice starts to melt as a foreign word called "empathy" enters his egocentric lense. Maybe he will finally manage to teach you a lesson now, since you keep failing his class.

(Mini series)- Episode one!

Song recommendation: bloodline- ariana grande

Content: Cold, mean, distant, unprofessional Jungkook, hurt, stubborn reader, enemies to lovers, lowkey dramatic, accident happens, mutually beneficial relationship (emotionally), Jk learns a lot from her, Jk is mean but has a soft spot for reader (eventually), 6 year age gap, Reader is from a struggling background, Jk kind of rescues her, happy ending, angst at first, fluff, smut, comedy/crack, bickering, college setting, brief hospital setting

Warnings: swearing, name-calling,mentions of an accident involving a biker, mentions of hospital, really mean Jungkook, i promise he gets sweet, mentions of trauma and abuse (non detailed), mental health struggles (semi detailed), arguments

Notes: Hey lovelies! This is my first time on tumblr. pls be nice! leave a comment if you like, feel free to go to my ask! to request drabbles of this couple

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A picture speaks more than a thousand words, so do eyes

At least when 26 pairs of them stare at you for being late, again. To be precise, for the 5th time in a row.

"Miss Y/n? what a surprise" Mr. Jeon stares through his glasses, direct and monotone as usual.

Bowing, you try to sit down at your desk that´s next to the door. "What is it this time? Couldn´t find your pens?" A almost routine like greeting from your teacher when you show up to class late. He tries to guess your reasoning each and every time, while increasingly mocking you. Just last week, when you showed up in a stained Shirt, he asked if you had to wash your clothes first before coming to class. You bet he found that hilarious.

On this day, his creativity seemingly died down, while his sarcasm certainly did not. "No sir, simply could not catch the bus. I apologize" you shake your head. Turning back to the Presentation behind him, wordlessly he resumes the lesson.

So likewise, you sit there. Waiting for it to be over. Photography has never been your strong suit but as a performing arts major, you needed this class to pass.

Not that you ever passed his class before, not in your first semester and certainly not in this second one.

"I will hand back your portfolios for the midterm preparations. I´m far too busy to be disappointed with them, although there are a few that gave me nightmares" his steps are small but powerful as he walks around the classroom, head pointed to the floor, his fluffy brown hair making it hard to read his face. It was blank, no one needed to see it to know. With his arms folded across his chest, he stands still.

If any other teacher had joked about having nightmares from awful projects, the class would have bursted into laughter and groans. In mister Jeon´s class, it remains silent, because for him, it´s not a joke.

Grabbing the pile of folders on his desk, he parades around the classroom, silently throwing folders down on the desk of the student it belongs to. Occasionally, a sigh of relief can be heard from your classmates.

When he reaches your desk, he slams the folder down, scoffing with his belittling smirk. It´s rare to see his face outside of his blank expression or unamused scoff, but when it does change, it is never positive.

Failed, repeatedly.

For one, because you prioritized other classes, far more important ones. Staying up until ungodly hours in the night to research for your English literature class and at the same time, trying to recall the notes for your practical music exam took a lot out of you. On second viewing, because your shitty 3 year old camera is barely holding on and you have no sense of stylistic layout or skill for settings and atmospheres. Not in pictures, at least.

Like you said, photography has never been your strong suit.

The bell finally releases you from the horrible strings of mr. Jeons depressing class, that is until his stern voice stops you from actually leaving.

"I have never had a student as careless as you" his scoff is as belittling as his eyes that look down at you. Without having to say it, they tell you how highly he thinks of himself, how lowly he thinks of you. Mr. Jeon has never been nice, too straight forward, never showing understanding for any misdemeanor. Handed the assignment in 5 minutes late? He would not dare grade it, even touch it. If you had worked tirelessly? , too bad. Ignoring the evidence of eyebags and puffy faces, he believes everyone simply lacks discipline.

"You show up late every time, fail every single exam, barely pass any group participation. Do you need this class for credits? I would drop out and take something that doesn´t require thinking, like theater. You have no chance of passing here" The words fall off his tongue naturally, so do the last footsteps of students leaving the class.

"I do not understand sir, why this concerns you at all. You have no consideration or awareness of my circumstances, I would expect some empathy from someone who´s job it is to interact with people" Honesty is not owned by him, for once, you decide to not let people treat you as if you were below them.

Once again, a scoff paints his lips as he steps closer, his eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly like he is taken by surprise from the sudden change of heart you seemingly underwent. Maybe it is just that no one has ever tried to talk back to him, knowing it leads practically nowhere. You know that as well, but the need to try and scream for the smallest drop of understanding, maybe even reassurance overcomes you with the sudden confrontation.

"Understanding? I think you are the one that needs to understand. Grow up, the world isn´t made to adapt and cradle you" It´s now your turn to scoff, your head shaking with a laugh of disbelief.

"That is exactly what I meant. The way my life is, I am well aware, mr. Jeon, that the world does not give a fuck about its people. Maybe, just maybe you know" you pause, searching his face for reaction as the frustration boils up, begging to be led out. As expected, it reads nothing. "You could try to see things apart from yourself, not everyone lives a life like yours"

"Oh my god, you poor little thing hm? What is it, lost your Phone? Got broken up with? People like you will find anything, anything in order to avert the blame. Its so-" he stops, his eyes darkening, the tattooed hand slips out of his pocket to swipe right through his hair. In a whisper of disgust, he resumes "...pathetic"

As a means to shield yourself from the way he spits out his words, your voice raises.

"Lost my home among other things, that good enough?" The words leave your mouth hurriedly, while wishing to be met with a soft smile. Stupidly enough, you know that´s very far from the reality that will weigh down on you in a matter of seconds. According to him, you are delusional anyways

The secret of yours that you had kept so warmly, so safely deep down in your mind had crept its way out your mouth, betraying you shamelessly. Not as shameless as the blatant lack of sympathy from the male stood in front of you.

" Good enough? Everyone has some shit they went through. You´re simply a loser, a lonely loser who cannot get over themselves. Get some help kid if you can´t do things for yourself but stop expecting people to let everything slide because of your helplessness. This huge victim complex of yours is infuriating. Did you expect me to cry and say oh what a cruel world, you poor little girl, i will let you pass my class?" Relentlessly he rants, with every word the sound of a distant laughter in your mind grows.

Regret.

Every second that passes he manages to give you further proof that you were never to find a spot in people's uselessly stern hearts.

Stammering to leave, the only words you manage to utter are "You´re heartless" mustering the courage to look at him is as far gone as your belief in his existence of ability to care.

Out, you want out of this wall tightening lecture hall that´s suffocating you with the strong hands of his stern voice.

"Good thing I don´t rely on the validation of others. I´m suspending you from this class to save you some work you would not do anyways" he turns sharply, walking back to his desk.

Parallel to him, you storm out of the University. Anywhere, anywhere is better right now.

Clouded by the tears of your resurfacing past you run along the streets. History repeats itself, the cycle of trust and naitivity is your biggest weakness.

Giving a way a piece of you for someone to keep safe, for someone to listen to, to care,

It has never worked before.

Stupid.

On and on unsure at this point if you were running from his words or ones of your own mind. They laugh at you, telling you their "I told you so"

Being powered simply by fear, and really, only fear, is far from enough to keep running, but you can´t stop. You can´t see either. Apparently, neither can the biker that runs into you, knocking you cold to the ground.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

"She really did not show up, expected, Good." he mumbles to himself while sorting the material on his desk. The small cubicle like space in the teachers workroom is decorated with photographs of his very own camera. Simple, organized, plain.

"Who did not?" Mrs. Park´s curious voice rings next to him, as his fellow art subject teacher, they share most of their students.

Nosy, he thinks.

"Lee Y/n. I suspended her recently and I-"

"You mean the girl from the accident?" casually she mentions it.

The cut off on the other hand, is sharp and unexpected. Jungkook is shocked for one, because someone interrupted him and two, because of the mention of you in an accident.

"Excuse me, an accident?" mentally cursing at himself for appearing to show interest in the situation, he diverts his attention to the teacher next to him. It must be a misunderstanding.

"Jungkook with all due respect how did you think a girl lying in the hospital for the past three days is going to show up to your class? You and your high expectations" She shakes her head, having completely misjudged the situation. Surprisingly, that is not his priority.

"Three days? How come I have not heard of this? How unreliable" He scoffs, old habits die hard, certainly for Jeon Jungkook.

Mrs. Park hums, reluctantly whispering "Probably because people are.. speculating. She has lots of problems , if you understand what im trying to say" it is subtle, fleeting, but her eyes glance up at him with the raise of an eyebrow

It flashes to Jungkooks as briefly as his coworkers judgemental eyes. His mind goes on to remember his conversation, well, argument with that stupidly helpless student of his.

Three days ago.

Mentally, he shakes his head.

Bullshit.

Even if she tried something, he isn´t to blame.

Right?

"Anyways, I think she is in Incheon hospital now. I might visit her later, she used to be in my literature course" Mrs. Park voice fades out as she stands up to leave.

Doumbfounded he sits there, tied to the chair by the revelation that he might have sent someone to a hospital.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

I can not believe I´m driving to the fucking hospital. He curses at himself while punching in the address of Incheon hospital onto his phone. It´s okay Jungkook, you´re doing this for YOUR sanity. Has nothing to do with that idiot. The words keep reassuring him of his selfishness, maybe trying to convince him that what he is feeling is not empathy, no, it is just to soothe his mind.

Why was he anxious in the first place? Not like it would make a change.

And so, 25 minutes of staring blankly at the road commence.

Blankly, because he needed to focus.

Blankly because he was not willing to face the possibilties his thoughts hold at the moment.

When he finally arrives, the huge metal doors welcome him in.

Straight to the receptionist he goes, asking for your room, providing proof of acquaintance with the patient.

What a hassle it was to gather everything, he remembers

And yet it does not stop him from heading up to the second floor.

Having just woken up from your second nap of the day, you audibly groan when the door opens, expecting to see a nurse.

"What the fuck" staring at your asshole photography teacher that is, somehow, in your hospital room.

"Good afternoon to you as well" he replies, as always, far removed from any and all emotion.

"Am I having a nightmare?" Questioning the validity of this surely odd situation, you sit up, combing through your hair. He Sighs, removing his coat and sitting at the chair across from your hospital bed. He would never dare to think he should ask if you even find it tolerable he is there.

He wants to speak to you, so he will.

"No, unfortunately not" Without knowing what to say further, because frankly he does not even know why he came here, he remains silent.

"Did you seriously come here? For what, to tell me to go to school because everyone has accidents and i need to get over myself?" The bitterness of your words match the usual one of his own, tainted ones. However this time, his eyes shift briefly.

Worry.

You think, at least.

"I get it, I was an asshole. Don´t tell me you jumped in front of a biker because of it" the strong, decorated hand of his makes it´s way to rub against his forehead as his voice comes out in a low groan of frustration. No need to sugarcoat, this is all he needed to know from you. Right?

Deciding to use it for a little revenge, you leave his semi question uncommented.

"Came here to apologize? Soothe that non existent conscious of yours, mr. Jeon?" his eyes dart up to meet yours, is it as though he really believes his words may have been the cause.

Regret, maybe. If he is capable of such.

"Fuck seriously? Yes, okay. I came here because" he stops, his tongue pressing the inside of his cheeks as he looks out into the window. The words leave his mouth without him even knowing that prior to hearing it out loud, that is what he felt.

"because I got worried that I made someone try to..." he cannot bring himself to finish that sentence.

"Is that really what people are saying? God that´s awful how am I supposed to go back to College with this being my reputation" small, barely audible you chuckle.

"Ah, no. Well.. partially i guess. I ran out after the hatred you threw at me and unlucky me, your so called cruel world strikes again" At the quoting of his words you make a mockery out of his monotone voice, the absurdity of this conversation still not catching up to you.

"Don´t worry, if that is even possible for you, I will just get over my accident" With an annoyed laugh, Jungkook stands up to stand in front of your hospital bed directly, hands in his slack pockets ever so casually but somehow, dominantly.

"I get it you idiot, I was an awful guy that day, my god give me a break. I came here, all the way here to fucking try and talk to you, give me a chance" his eyes look down at you, bored, plain. His mouth betraying him once more, spilling the unknown truth from his plump pierced lips.

"You sure have a way of asking for things. I want you out quick so, make it fast will you mr, Jeon" your reply makes him tilt his head to the side quickly, muttering a finally under his breath.

"I decided to not suspend you. And I´m deciding that maybe, you should tell me your circumstances. I´m not going to be held accountable if you try some shit"

This is about him, of course.

Just now he's taking an actual look at you, trying to decipher how hurt you really are, he would never bother to ask though.

The bruises on your arms become visibile to him, looking them up and down with tightly pressed eyebrows. They look older, some of them appear fresh.

Is she being hurt? his mind wanders

A snort from you makes him snap out of his thoughts "What? So you can laugh at it?"

He groans in response, "If you stopped being so stubborn and listened to me maybe you would know why. I´m taking your advice god damn it, I´m trying to build understanding" both hands are now running through his longer hair, the frustration of the wall you build up almost making him give up. Deep down, he knows he can´t blame you. The consequences of his own actions are catching up to him slowly, just as the realization of his heart softening ever so slightly does.

Silence fills the room, being the loudest sound to present itself.

"Fine" you roll your eyes at him. Unlike him, you want to show some grace, show him that yeah, it is possible to go through shit and need help. Sometimes people need to be ripped out of their tunnel vision egocentric world to understand their flaws. At the same time, you worry your good heart will once again only lead you too give more than you should be.

"Took you long enough" he remarks snarkily

"Nevermind then"

"Oh my god"

You laugh at his response, making eye contact with him as he laughs too. Small that is, before catching himself doing so. Still, it made a smile try to creep up your lips at the unfamiliar sound.

"That was a first" as if you´d pass up a chance to embarrass him.

"Don´t mention it" returning to his habits as always, the stern teacher voice is perfectly matching his lurking stance. ´´You´re below me´´ practically radiating off of him. What a shame, you had just begun to find him pleasant.

"Okay so, summary: Was admitted into our shitty foster system, got a whole bunch of friendship trauma, had to run away from said foster horror house and am now basically homeless in a women´s shelter. Oh and before you ask, I have a scholarship. I may be poor but I am not a criminal" the hands up in a surrendering pose make up for the awkwardly tense situation after having revealed something so personal to your photography teacher. For the second time. Right now, it´s impossible to tell what he is thinking.

Nodding he starts off his sentence,

"you were right that is a lot. Fuck, now i get why you called me a heartless asshole. Had no idea a twenty-one year old can already live that much shit. I swear, I was convinced you were bullshitting because you just did not care about my class" his rambling turns into muttering when he makes his way back to sit down on the chair, the usually bored eyes of his look softer now, while his words are as insensitive as they have always been.

"You are meaning to tell me that outburst you had on me was because you were pressed i didn´t take your class seriously? I just suck at photography, but i tried" in a subconscious motion your hand clutches your chest melodramatically, a slight smirk tugging on the side of Jungkook´s mouth.

"I know you suck, saw all of those awful collages. I did mean some things I said, someone needs to teach you how to grit your teeth and stand up for yourself, would have taken you seriously much sooner" His deep brown eyes roll with the memory of your conversation, sighing deeply he shakes his head.

Oddly enough, his truthful joke about your inability for photography makes your heart a little warmer. The belittling presence of his turning into a much closer, normal one. While the distance of his emotions is undeniable, the closeness of his growing interest in your life is as well. His mind is occupied with your conversation, unable to focus on his only mission, that is to protect who he is. The mask slips but really, does he still feel like wearing it?

"If that is what you tried to express someone needs to teach you how to empathize and communicate with people, mr. Jeon"

He wants to leave the mask off for just a little longer

"Jungkook" his first name slips out of his lips seamlessly, in the heat of the moment, lost in the fact that for some reason, he wants to understand you. Not in a suggestion, he´s still Jungkook, no is not an option if he set his mind to it. He´s demanding you to adapt to him

"What?"

"Call me Jungkook. We have been far from professional anyways. Calling me mister and all that formal shit makes it weird" his face scrunches up briefly, the embarrassment of acting more like a highschool bully than a teacher is slowly catching up to him.

You can´t help but laugh softly at this whole mess. In a hospital, constantly fighting while simultaneously trauma unpacking with your heartless, maybe not so heartless after all photography teacher who now wants you to call him by his first name.

Cruel world, as he puts it.

"Sure, Jungkook" his name leaves your lips in way so naturally it makes him jump inside.

What the fuck?

"I guess we could learn a lot from each other then, idiot" never failing to remind you of his stance on your personality, the sound echos in the room when his eyes meet yours,

but it is not his eyes that matter in his moment, they have returned to their stern nature long ago,

It is the fact that he softened his voice, as if he was afraid to let you in his mind. As if it was only possible for him to let one small spot of his soften at a time,

While you were just as afraid,

"Yeah. Deal?"

He naturally irritated face showing up to greet you once more

"Seriously? What are you, 12?"

"With the way you're acting i should be asking you that"

Unamused, he manages to mutter out

"Deal"

It's like the nurse had waited for you to be done before entering the room, informing you that visitor time is up and Jungkook needs to leave. Your eyes dart to his as he puts on the coat he had hung up previously, thanking the nurse before shifting his body slightly to hover over your sitting form.

"See you in class then" with that, he leaves you to rethink everything that had happend the past days. More over, he leaves you wondering just how honest he was about the little deal you guys made.

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amelee23 · 1 year ago

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I didn't accidentally love you | Hwang Hyunjin

Genre: Hopelessly romantic fluff, angst, poetry, a little comedy

Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin x gender neutral reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: reader is an insecure poet, heartbreak, bad self esteem, poetry clubs, Hyunjin is dripping charisma, shameless flirting, reader thinks hyun is a jerk for like a second, reader.exe stops working multiple times, reader gets shy, i just HAD to be funny at the end OKAY

Synopsys: Your friends forced you to become part of a poetry club, and when you receive a task to write a poem about sadness, you realize you accidentally write it about Hyunjin, the guy you had a crush on and tried to forget about. And he finds out.

A/N: I promised @astraystayyh to write this, here you go sugar <3

Artists have many moments of weakness.

Those moments when you start to question your craft, whether you're even worthy of being called an 'artist' or you're just a fleeting talent that is going to wash away with time, just like the hobby or interest of a preschooler. You inquire if you're worthy staining pages with ink, using the words of the dictionary just to feel the high of belonging - the high of doing show and tell with your emotions like it's a new toy your parents gifted you; or you should just remain a consumer, and observe the beauty that lies in others, the beauty others can create. Could your craft ever rise to all these expectations?

But what else is there to life, if not making art?

Perhaps you've always been clinically insane, but you've only truly felt alive when you felt the beauty of the world - dark and bright alike - conveyed through you in the form of poetry and words, sent by the angels above for a mere human to toy with. So you pick up the pencil again.

The paper before you is blank, and you're frankly uncomfortable in the position you are in, notebook on your thighs, back curved over the page as if you're shielding unwritten words from the sun itself to not read them. But you've always felt more at ease writing outside, under the natural light of the sky, with the clouds passing by carelessly, like they don't have doubts about their worth like a human would. But the stares of the students passing by are not exactly comfortable. You take a breath and urge yourself to focus; they don't care about what you're doing, they're just heading to their classes, living their lives (hopefully) with that same hunger you have for art, for their chosen subjects.

You face your paper again and remember the prompt you were given - writing a poem involving the feeling of sadness - that you're supposed to hand over to the club in a couple of days. Insecurities and procrastination led you to keep putting it off, but the dread of a deadline has always been a great motivation for humanity. Your friends urged you towards this, to join the poetry club of your university - it's a small, non-profit club put together by a bunch of random art and literature students. It's so non-profit in fact, that it barely has any funding at all. They had to fight tooth and nail to be allowed to host the club meetings every week in the sculpting room - and that, late in the day, when the cleaning staff unlocks the doors for their cleaning sweep. You sit on awkward, stained chairs, and make sure to raise your feet up one by one to not stand in the way of the mop and brooms. But the club members would withstand anything, and would pretty much commit homicide to keep the club running. One more reason why, when faced with the passion and fighting spirit your club mates have, you wonder if you even have a space with them. You had to be shoved - one could say even blackmailed - by your friends to take the step forward and join, so you could be able to share your craft with others. You were perfectly happy letting your poems stack up in endless notebooks on top of your dusty bookcase. You didn't feel the need to share them, per se - but everyone else insisted it would have been a crime to keep them to yourself selfishly like that.

Sadness, sadness. You need to embody sadness for this prompt. You look around for inspiration, but there is no sad sight to see. The sky is clear, in colors of baby blue and soft whites, the branches of the green, young trees are barely even swaying in the wind, and there's college students laughing all around. Has anything sad happened in your life lately? Not really, nothing to inspire poems at least. Not that you are bursting at the seams with happiness, but you believed no one really is. There's a lot going on behind the cover of every human passing by, and even if all you can feel is the slight shoulder brush of a stranger, you do know those shoulders carry as much, if not even more weight than yours.

That's it. You start writing, and word by word they flow, one line, two lines until you have seven of them - you even managed to rhyme! It's not much, but it's honest work. Since there is no one close by, you begin to read the poem out loud softly. Hearing what you wrote always helps you perfect the rhymes, the punctuation and change around words if they sound too awkward. After erasing, rewriting and erasing again just to end up redoing the whole last two lines, you finally thought it was good enough.

---

Here and now, I must take a vow:

You'll never hear me confess, that in the depths of my weary chest

Underneath the smile I wore, there's a sadness in my soul;

Nothing's wrong - it's my biggest lie, hiding a muffled cry

Just behind a giggle and a laugh, acting is my biggest craft;

I loved you - but heard the ticking of the clock and thought

No more. It's time I stopped and gave you up.

---

You smile, because for a split second you actually think your poem sounds really good. But then, the insecurities crash on top of you again. Your club mates are probably writing long, heart-wrenching poems that are going to make you cry when you read them. Your idea will surely seem shallow and rushed in comparison to theirs. With a sigh, you wish to be able to just give yourself this one. Tell yourself you did good enough by trying and move on - brush it off and think progressively, that your next poem is going to be even better than this one. But you don't truly feel that way, so you begin to beautify the first letter of every line with calligraphic letters to overcompensate for the lack of skill you feel you have. The capital H at the beginning of the first line, the capital Y at the beginning of the second line and so on; you turn them into beautiful, aesthetic calligraphy as much to your ability. In the end, you just think you've made a mess, and that there is simply too much ink on the page now.

---

Here and now, I must take a vow:

You'll never hear me confess, that in the depths of my weary chest

Underneath the smile I wore, there's a sadness in my soul;

Nothing's wrong - it's my biggest lie, hiding a muffled cry

Just behind a giggle and a laugh, acting is my biggest craft;

I loved you - but heard the ticking of the clock and thought

No more. It's time I stopped and gave you up.

---

Oh no.

Your eyes open wide and you can't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation.

The first letter of every single line, from top to bottom, spell HYUNJIN. The name of the boy you swore to yourself you've moved on from.

Hyunjin, who spoke about life as if it was art itself and spoke about art as if it was life itself.

Hyunjin, with the calm and warm voice - quiet and observant and yet, from the ocean in his eyes, bathed in a soft moonlight, it always seemed like his mind was in faraway lands, dreaming, humming, sighing before a field of lilies in the middle of the night.

Hyunjin, who seemed like through every song he listened to and sang, every poem he read and wrote, every painting he saw and painted, he dicovered all the secrets the universe had. As if human life was a melancholic, nostalgic memory to him, life experiencing itself all over again - he seemed so kind, so unfazed, so utterly in love with existence.

Hyunjin, who read every single one of your poems and told you he'd never allow you to leave the club. He was always so warm, you could hardly believe he wasn't doing it out of habit, spreading his magical touch over the wounds in your heart just like he would with anyone else. But it wasn't his fault you always questioned your worth.

Hyunjin, with whom you've fallen in love with gravely. For every smile he showed around you, for every squeal-like laugh he gifted you, for every time he held your hand gently to calm your nerves, you added one more day to the delusion of hanging on to him.

Hyunjin, who was merely a pipe dream.

He is the co-leader of the poetry club you're in. That's why you've always considered his compliments and encouragements to be just him doing his job - and yet they continued to fuel that foolish fire of yours for far too long. You never confessed to him, of course. But there would be nothing wrong with you two dating, from an ethical point of view. This is just a poetry club ran by students, it's not like having a crush on your boss. But still, the title of co-leader put him above you in a way you couldn't describe. Maybe it's the fact that he has more experience in art. Maybe it's the fact that he's more skillful. Maybe it's the fact that he's taught you many techniques and actually became a figure to rely on. Therefore he was still above you in a way, and so was the leader.

The leader of the club, she resembled Hyunjin in an almost eerie way. People do say, someone who is beautiful on the inside will always radiate beauty on the outside, too. That was a clear description of both of them. She too, was a romantic and an artist, she had a feather light laugh, star like freckles dusting her face, and eyes that could hold galaxies. She was the end of Hyunjin's sentences and the beginning of his thoughts. They made an incredible pair and their teamwork was impeccable as leaders. They weren't dating, but your heart kept telling you, that one day they will. It would be simply impossible for two souls so perfectly woven for each other to simply separate and go their different ways. And yet, you still foolishly had fallen for Hyunjin and every single week, the pain in your chest grew.

Oh, it hurt. It shouldn't have, really. You were just a newcomer being silly and they were fit for a lifetime. You had no chance nor the courage to hope and dream a miracle would land you in Hyunjin's loving arms. She wasn't to blame, he wasn't to blame, your pain was fully your fault. You fell in love and you had to fix it. So you made an oath with yourself to let it go, get those heavy rocks off of your lungs and allow yourself to breathe. There will be other boys in your life. They will not be Hyunjin, but other boys will exist.

You thought you were done with the tears, with the heartache and the love-sick poems. But it seemed you did have one more poem left in you, and it bubbled to the surface.

If the sun wasn't that bright, you wouldn't even have noticed the shadow of someone looming over you. You heard a melodic hum above your head and when you looked up, your heart dropped.

"What do we have here?" He teased, snatching your notebook right out of your hands. You couldn't even react in time, he was already standing up before you, reading the contents of your poem. His lips hung slightly open and he let out a gasp, and you really thought poetry was perhaps the only way to describe the look on his face. You watched his eyes travel the page, his chest deflating very rarely as if he was holding his breath. He looked surprised, but it wasn't an anxious type of bewilderment, nor an excited one either. He was looking at your notebook as if it was some sort of mythical creature, something that shouldn't possibly exist-

And then his eyes found yours. They wrecked you from the inside out, a brown so blown out, so dark, unalike what you've seen before. There was no more serene skies and calm seas in his eyes, there was a storm, a hurricane - a complete blackout. He looked frightened. Maybe he was in fact, still shaken by the secrets of the universe. Maybe humans are not supposed to know what mythological creatures actually look like. Maybe denying their existence would be easier on the collective-

"I can explain!" You jump up from the bench you were seated on. "That was an accident - it's not what it looks like!" He's not listening to you. His mind has gone to those faraway lands again, and he's dreaming while he glances at the page. You move to take the notebook away from him, but he raises it above his head. He's too tall to reach, so you don't even try.

"Well." He speaks, softly, anxiously, awkwardly. He softly lowers the notebook, but he holds it tight to his chest. He won't let you take it back. "I think now it's only fair I dedicate my poetry to you as well." Now it's your turn to remain with your mouth agape. You're blinking at him, and you don't realize you're looking at him exactly the same way he looked at you a minute ago. You're both scared and yet in marvel, and he takes a step closer. You inhale sharply, but it gets stuck in your throat. You can't breathe, your stomach is tense, and a shiver is shaking the fingers of your hands. His eyes are transfixed on yours, and he moves even closer, he's too close - and he asks for permission. "If you'll allow me?"

He's asking you to become his muse.

But you couldn't answer him even if you wanted to. It's embarrassing, but the only thing you can muster is a whimper.

He continues to stare at your face, until slowly and gradually a smile tugs at the corner of his lips and he lets out a giggle. He waves a hand in front of your face and cocks an eyebrow, in an attempt to bring you out of your daze. You're so confused you could die.

Was the last few minutes just a joke? Was he just mocking you-? He must have been. Nothing is as good as it seems, and Hwang Hyunjin couldn't be any different. Maybe he was just a self centered jerk under the dreamy romantic aura he carried. It would be easier to start hating him than to continue helplessly liking him, right?

You barely register Hyunjin putting your spiral notebook down on the bench to gently rip out the page with the poem. He folds the page in two and then hands you your notebook back.

"As the co-leader of the club, I reject your entry. You must write another poem, I'm confiscating this one." You cock your head. What is he saying? Is this still, all part of the joke?

"What- what are you- what are you gonna do with it?" You manage to spew out a sentence, not that it was the most important question to ask. Hyunjin raises his shoulders.

"Put it on my wall? Tape it in my journal? I'll find a place." He answers nonchalantly. You see his eyebrows dance on his face as he thinks for a second, then his expression tells you he got an idea. "Or... I could give it back to you... If you visit the seashore with me."

You side eye him and furrow your brows. "To do what?" He raises his shoulders again.

"I need inspiration for all of the poems I'm gonna start writing about you." He's calm, almost too calm as he says it, and he begins to smile once more as he watches your mouth hang open again.

"Are you making fun of me?" You finally ask, and Hyunjin looks downright offended. He raises his eyebrows, and comically cranes his neck back, pointing a finger at himself and then at you.

"ME? Make fun of YOU? Why? I'm... asking you out on a date..." And you're somehow supposed to process that information without finding a million excuses why this shouldn't be happening and wouldn't be happening. But it is happening.

"So you're not joking?"

"No?" He replies shaking his head.

"You're being serious."

"Yeah.." He replies, this time nodding his head.

"Seriously?" He laughs, finding you adorable.

"Seriously." Suddenly, the situations is a little too real and too much to take. Your hopelessly romantic and yet heavily insecure brain almost ruined a moment you could have only dreamt about, and you almost thought Hyunjin was a jerk. You hide your face in your hands and let out a muffled whine. Hyunjin is extremely amused, and feeling a little playful, he comes closer and cocks his head close to your face. You can't see him, but you peek through your fingers when you hear him speak again. "So is that a yes?" You watch glimpses of his face between your fingers and nod back at him. "Great then!" His face is so bright, and you can't hide your eyes from his anymore. Today, you saw how his eyes looked with a storm in them, but now they look different once more - like a sunrise above a beach, it's all so golden and full of life, sweet like honey and rich like gold. Warmth spreads through your chest, and he places a hand gently on your arm. His thumb caresses your bicep for a few seconds. "I'll text you the details."

You feel drunk, as his touch leaves your body but still lingers. He walks away to his next class, but he turns around briefly to remind you of your task.

"And don't forget you have to write a new poem until Thursday!" He waives the page he stole from you between his fingers and laughs his ass off at the exasperated sigh you give in return and the angry squint and pout.

You're pretty sure he didn't believe you when you said that poem was an accident. And he never will, even when you try to explain it to him on your first date. And on the second date you swear it wasn't on purpose, and on the third date you tell him for just how long you've liked him and how you tried to let him go. And on the fourth date he tells you he knows your poem wasn't an accident no matter what you think or say. And on the fifth, you agree with him.

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montyterrible · 2 months ago

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Miller’s Actually-She’s-Eighteen

Pithy Letterboxd-style review (read: attempted virality): They finally made a movie adaptation of the YA-obsessed adult’s idea of what adult literature is.

You might get the impression a movie about an inappropriate student-teacher relationship that opens with the line “What is an adult?” and ends with Janis Ian’s “At Seventeen” is some kind of self-aware parody or satire. While Jade Halley Bartlett’s Miller’s Girl (2024) certainly has moments of what might generously be called “clarity” (re. subjects like writing and sexual dynamics)—more tortuously: “quasi-didactic”—it feels more or less like a straightforward, even predictable telling of this kind of story. (Or, in an era of excessive self-awareness—“He’s Right Behind Me, Isn’t He?”—maybe this is the radical approach.) I found the film’s tone fascinating, however. There are fleeting notes of horror in the visuals and soundscape, and then there’s stuff that feels artlessly moving or wistful or romantic. It strikes me as, overall, not at all the “slick” sort of movie where I should be seeing pop-ups highlighting messages from people’s cellphones, but there they are.

Similarly, the dialogue is a mix of the sort of awkward, “unrealistic,” strained, “literary” style that I personally enjoy with an occasional frankness or even crassness that borders on parody again by virtue of its extreme contrast. Here are several examples, all taken from throughout the same scene:

“I’m smokin’ now. No plans for it to define me yet.”

“It becomes a conversation about achieving emancipation from your inherited beliefs about sex and age.”

“We’re like the fuckin’ American wet dream. Young girls with ambivalent sexuality.”

“I don’t wanna drop it for some rando jock-twat whose sexual standards are mandated by the shit porn he downloads. That’s deli meat.”

“No, you’re being… Shut up.”

The highest compliment I can pay Miller’s Girl is that I did pause it early on to Google and find out if it was based on a book. I also think it’s risky to write a movie about writing and then have a bunch of characters’ writing shared in it, as the danger is that the audience won’t agree that the work is actually that great. This is obviously a matter of personal taste. As I mentioned before, I… liked it, but the writing uniformly has a tendency toward being “verbose” more than anything else, coming off like the characters are constantly deep-throating a thesaurus. It’s what a lot of people could (justifiably) call pretentious.

Obviously, there’s the question of the movie’s Content: As someone who has worked in education, I always respond negatively to bad teachers in art more or less as a matter of reflex. I recently finished re-watching season one of the 2015 comedy-horror series Scream Queens, for example, and one of the characters has a father who teaches a truly abysmal film class in certain episodes, which seems to consist of him just showing the students movies and then lecturing for a few minutes afterward. In Miller’s Girl, the issue is less how Martin Freeman’s titular Miller teaches and more about the mistakes he makes in handling Jenna Ortega’s precocious Cairo Sweet. It’s a necessary conceit of such stories that the teacher behaves in a way that lets those boundaries ultimately get crossed, but it’s hard not to watch those “slips” happen and not feel like this guy is just terrible at his job, with no sense of propriety whatsoever. Although, obviously this does happen for real. I went to school with someone who ended up crossing that line as a teacher, in fact.

The resonance I feel with stories like this one and also with the way weirdos on the internet talk about girls/women, the age of consent, fertility, birth rates, and so on is just how young people this age actually look. In contrast to the famously skeevy line from Dazed and Confused (1993), teenagers don’t “stay the same age”—I keep getting older, and they keep getting younger. I didn’t know how young I actually was at eighteen when I was eighteen. This here is meant to be a Heightened reality, where predatory teenagers who rattle around alone in their Southern Gothic houses emerge from the mist of the spooky woods to seduce you, but it’s hard for me not to see this Cairo as a flimsy phantasm, this schemer who seduces and then ruins her teacher so that she can write a really bangin’ application essay for Yale about the experience. She’s a sort of mythological figure in a Culture War, MGTOW, incel-ian mode—handled here with a certain ambivalence and enthralling grace even as the film technically panders to boring, old cishet male fears of entrapment and exploitation and degradation at the hands of wily Females.

It's another area where the film threatens to fall into parody—that and how it’s not just Cairo, but also her friend Winnie (Gideon Adlon) doing this. They’re both seducing teachers, but Winnie maybe genuinely likes hers and ends up falling out with Cairo in the end over it. The whiplash of Winnie’s transformation from short-skirted bisexual seductress to frumpy, teary-eyed defeat is also pretty comedic. Meanwhile, the mirrored pairing of Mr. Miller and his friend Boris (Bashir Salahuddin), Winnie’s target, further feeds into that sense of ridiculous excess. Boris’ ultimate rationalization of his own behavior is perhaps frustratingly brief, though intriguing for its moral ambiguity. Again, though, the fact that this is happening twice in the same school, simultaneously, with people this closely connected to one another, feels almost like unintentional comedy.

I’m sure Seth Rogen is a consummate professional, but knowing that he was a producer on this movie made me really want a commentary track from him, or to be a fly on the wall when he read the script. Like, I can just imagine his reaction to the scene where Mr. Miller is whackin’ it to Cairo’s midterm short story in what amounts to a shed. I thought it was pretty funny! I partly blame the “Peterotica” episode of Family Guy for me having this impression, however: You could just not take your shirt off while driving! You could simply not jork it to your student’s writing! That these reactions seem so… involuntary is part of what makes me laugh. Miller dramatically cranking hog does strike an ok balance between eroticism and thrills, I feel, and I don’t want to only disparage it. This is probably the stylistic—erotic and thrilling—high point of the movie. One criticism that could be levied against Miller’s Girl is that there isn’t actually enough of this sort of thing. It’s a real “Yes, and what else?” sort of deal.

Miller’s more successful writer wife, Beatrice (Dagmara Domińczyk), is a frustrating element of the story because of just how off-putting she is. She’s often demeaning toward her husband and only seems more drunk and belligerent as the story goes on. She’s meant to contrast with Cairo, obviously: The younger girl is sweet, whereas Beatrice is not. She lounges around the house in sexy sleepwear, and she’s not not into the story Cairo wrote when Miller shares it with her, which is… problematic. While Cairo is clearly antagonistic after a point and isn’t meant to represent a real option for several reasons (her age, her sort-of madness), the film doesn’t make staying with Beatrice feel like much of a viable choice either. It reminded me of a similar issue that I had with Woody Allen’s Midnight in Paris (2011). The fiancée in that film is so obviously a bad match (and person) that there’s not much tension where the question of staying with her is concerned. I think if Beatrice was just a skosh less aggressively dismissive of Miller, then it would make this situation more thrilling.

The film is perhaps surprisingly slight: Not much really happens, and I think it could have afforded to go a bit bigger and darker (embrace more of the grotesque potential of the tentative gothic flourishes), though the slightness of it all might add a smidgeon of verisimilitude or else at least make it feel that bit more Literary. In that sense, Bartlett may understand something about writing that Cairo did not—the value of doing less, in more than one sense.

#movies #movie review #film #miller's girl #jenna ortega #martin freeman

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krenenbaker · 1 year ago

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🔥🌱🦚🏳️‍⚧️

🔥 - How has the way you think about yourself changed since you realized you were queer?

I've become a lot more confident in both how I feel about my body (usually...) as well as how I interact with other people. Understanding myself and how I see the world has made a lot of things more... comfortable, I suppose you could say.

🌱 - How would your younger self act if your current self told them they were queer?

It honestly depends on how old my younger self was. If it was, like, my young child self, I'd probably find it super cool! My grade 6 to 9 self, I probably wouldn't believe it. Then my grade 10+ self would find it cool again. (Fun story - my elementary school had a GSA that started when I was in grade 6, which I never went to because I felt it "didn't interest or apply to me". Like... hun. it applied to everyone, and you DEFINITELY would have belonged there!)

🦚 - Are there any queer books/shows/etc. that you would suggest?

I have SO MANY suggestions, oh my gods. I'll just give a short list for now, which I will expand upon. Note that these suggestions include various topics that may be triggering. Books and graphic novels: - Fan Art (Sarah Tregay) - one of the first queer novels I read, a fluffy YA fiction piece (includes some homophobia) - Fun Home (Alison Bechdel) - a FANTASTIC graphic novel / memoir, exploring queer time and family, grief, love, and literature. The musical version is also wonderful! (includes topics relating to sexual content, death, a focus on binary gender roles, and some homophobia - much of it internalized) Films: I could give basically my entire film list from my Queer Cinemas class, haha! But some of my favourites include: - Wildhood (Bretten Hannam, 2021) - A coming-of-age / road trip film, focussing on found family, intergenerational trauma and healing, reconnection with culture and language, and so much more. Also includes a Two-Spirit character in one of the three main roles, which is really nice to see! (includes homophobia, an abusive parent, racism (specifically against Indigeneity), and some sexual content) - Zero Patience (John Greyson, 1993) - A musical comedy/drama part of the New Queer Cinema movement. It follows an immortal - and immoral - Victorian sexologist / taxidermist who plans to make a museum display of the person believed to have brought HIV to North America, critiquing the myth of the so-called "Patient Zero", while also showing what life was like for various communities in the early 1990s. It's goofy, it's fun, it's heartwarming, and it's heartbreaking. There's also a song called the "Butthole Duet" :) (includes sexual content, homophobia, death, and illness - specifically HIV/AIDS)

🏳️‍⚧️ - What Flag do you think has the best color scheme?

Ooh, good question. I think the Ace flag has a really good colour scheme, though I may be biased. Also the queer chevron flag - that one is beautiful (though I'm also biased there, haha!)

#krenenbaker's questions #ask game #this took longer than I expected to type up!#I also think I'll make another post sometime about queer media recs :)#dove✧

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siena-sevenwits · 2 years ago

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I posted 1,673 times in 2022

That's 1,673 more posts than 2021!

243 posts created (15%)

1,430 posts reblogged (85%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@lady-merian

@gailyinthedark

@telthor

@hollers-and-holmes

@lovesodeepandwideandwell

I tagged 1,408 of my posts in 2022

Only 16% of my posts had no tags

#literary - 289 posts

#ha! - 208 posts

#art - 177 posts

#beauty - 153 posts

#tolkien - 91 posts

#lotr - 74 posts

#film - 69 posts

#faith - 60 posts

#writing - 53 posts

#ideas - 51 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#and growing from his time in community life and following the horarium and going to the chapel daily and interpersonal stuff with the monks

My Top Posts in 2022:

One of the things I have learned as a teacher - there are some things in literature that students have to believe for a while and get passionate about,. You have to make space for them to express it before you try to steer them toward a greater curiosity and understanding of the character/the author's intention.

High schoolers often need to express some vitriol toward Romeo and Juliet's relationship, and a chance to throw disgust at it. They need it before you can get into discussions about why they might have fallen for each other in the way they did, or whether Shakespeare is holding them up for admiration or for something a little more nuanced, OR (and you can only have this discussion a little way down the road) why they're reacting to an ill-advised romance with such visceral frustration when they've been very even-tempered about murder and cheating and deception in other works. (And if they've been heard out first, they often find this discussion fascinating.) Once they've had room to give their honest first impressions, room for greater understanding and empathy is opened up.

Students need to joke with the teacher about how meandering Polybius is and how he seldom comes to his point. You need to good-naturedly tease Polybius from beyond the grave before you can throw a magnifying glass on the fact that Polybius's most interesting thoughts are in the "tangents."

Students need to be able to express that they're horrified that God would order the Israelites to kill every last Canaanite - have to admit that they can't seem to reconcile it with their understanding of a loving God. Only after this is acknowledged - that this is a difficult passage to comprehend - can you start examining it to understand.

I used to think I was aiding my students by debunking some thoughts before they could even be expressed. I thought if I gave them the chance to say these things, they'd become the entrenched class opinion, and they'd resent attempts to budge them from it. So I used to start classes with phrases like, "When it comes to Romeo and Juliet, many people tend to think ______, but in fact if we look closer...." I try not to do that anymore.

There must be room for honest first impressions, or you will not be able to go on honestly. No one can become more open-minded when you attempt to short-circuit their thoughts before they are even expressed.

118 notes - Posted October 6, 2022

Whenever I buy iron or zinc from the pharmacy I feel like a Mistborn.

188 notes - Posted April 9, 2022

Love that "my brother in Christ" became a thing, because fraternal correction is ripe for comedy! I do think all the adaptations of it into other phrases are hilarious though. Because while they often work for their jokes, almost all of them would be that much funnier with the original implied layer that you're being called out because someone thought it was their scriptural duty to do so, and probably feels super awkward about. They are just hoping you will amend your misguided opinions about Pokemon before they have to take you before two or three witnesses.

194 notes - Posted October 17, 2022

This is hardly original, but tonight I'm obsessed with how in the Passion narratives, even the words and accidental prayers of Christ's enemies are fulfilled and proclaim Him.

And Pilate seeing that he prevailed nothing, but that rather a tumult was made; taking water washed his hands before the people, saying: "I am innocent of the blood of this just man; look you to it." And the whole people answering, said: "His blood be upon us and our children." (Matthew 27:24-25)

They mean it in the most horrific and bloodthirsty sense - let us be proud to have caused this man's death! - but looking at their actual words - could there be a better prayer if meant with love? Let His blood, lovingly shed for us, mark us for all time! Not just in our generation, but in all generations to come! Let His sacrifice ensure our redemption. Let His blood be our true drink.

And the soldiers also mocked him, coming to him... and saying: If thou be the king of the Jews, save thyself... And one of those robbers who were hanged, blasphemed him, saying: "If thou be Christ, save thyself and us." (from Luke 23:36-39)

And He does! He does! He doesn't save Himself from mockery, torture, and death in that moment - He fulfills the thief's mocking "prayer" in a far more thorough and incredible way - He reverses death itself! He makes it that death has no power over Himself nor us!

And there was also a superscription written over him in letters of Greek, and Latin, and Hebrew: THIS IS THE KING OF THE JEWS. (Luke 23:38)

Pilate's plaque accurately proclaims to the world, in the local and universal languages, just who this is dying on the cross. In spite of Himself, he unwittingly proclaims the truth, though he questions what truth even is.

It's just - wild. All creation is telling the glory of God, even when we most reject Him.

204 notes - Posted November 19, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Imagine meeting your online friends in person, and there is not one single moment of awkwardness except of the enjoyable kind. It's all joy. You get to see sides of them that never came through online. You get to see the light in their eyes. Their sense of humour is the same but broader because you're in person. Any worries you might have had that it will turn out disappointing or embarrassing fly out the window, and at the end of the day you feel twice as close as you already were, if not more.

505 notes - Posted May 9, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #false

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stardust-blossom · 1 year ago

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Soulmate String AU

Welcome to Soulmate String, A story all about Romance, Comedy, Action and horror

Trigger warning: Blood, Violence, Dark Humour, Weapons

INTRODUCTION

In the world, there are people who can see this thing called "The red string of fate". It's a string attached to one another to show that theiy are destined to be together. But there are times where things go insanely wrong and terrible.....

The school

Hikarizaka High School is a bustling Japanese school located in the heart of Shibuya. Founded in the early 1900s, it has a rich history and is known for its rigorous academic programs and high standards. The school is split into three different sections: the Junior High School, the Senior High School, and the International School, each with its own unique curriculum and student body.

The Junior High School focuses on providing students with a well-rounded education in a variety of subjects, with an emphasis on building a strong foundation for future studies. Students take classes in Japanese language and literature, math, science, social studies, and physical education, as well as music and art.

The Senior High School offers both a general curriculum and specialized programs in fields like science, technology, and humanities. Students are encouraged to pursue their interests and passions, as well as to think independently and critically. The school has a strong focus on preparing students for college entrance exams and the demands of higher education.

The International School is designed for students from around the world who want to experience a Japanese education. It offers advanced language and culture classes, as well as a diverse array of extracurricular activities. Students in the International School often live with host families or in dorms, allowing them to gain a deeper understanding of Japanese culture and build lifelong friendships.

Hikarizaka High School has a reputation for excellence both locally and internationally. Its rigorous academic programs, dedicated teachers, and supportive community create an environment in which students can thrive and achieve great things. Whether you're looking to pursue higher education or immerse yourself in Japanese culture, Hikarizaka High School is the perfect place to start.

The protagonist

The main protagonist, Akira Yamamoto, is a young Japanese Teenager who discovers that she too can see the red string of fate.

The world is a scary and dangerous place but at the same time, safe, where the power of fate is held in the hands of a select few. Akira Yamamoto represents hope for those who wish for a better future, but her journey will not be easy. She must overcome her own personal struggles and learn to trust herself and her newfound abilities in order to fight the the obstacles in her way.

The other main character

Meet Kenji Nakamura, a young, independent teenage boy with a passion for music. Kenji is highly skilled in playing Musical instruments and loves performing with his band. He is a calm and collected person who never gets angry or agitated. Even when faced with challenging situations, Kenji remains level-headed and supportive of his friends and family.

Kenji's kind-hearted nature and his easy-going personality make him well-liked among his peers. He is a great listener, and people often feel comfortable talking to him about their problems. He's known for being sympathetic and incredibly easy to talk to, which makes him a natural mediator among his friends.

Despite his gentle and respectful nature, Kenji possesses an inner strength that is demonstrated through his music. Whenever he plays the guitar, there is an undeniable energy, and he exudes confidence and passion. His performances always thrill and inspire his audience.

Kenji is also the object of affection for Akira Yamamoto, a girl who recognizes his unique talents and kind nature, and appreciates how he treats others. Kenji and Akira share a connection through their love for music and their desire for a better world.

Overall, Kenji is a mature and gentle character with a heart of gold. His kindness and leadership inspire those around him, while his passion for music sets him apart as a talented musician and performer.

The rest of the cast

Yuna Suzuki is the daughter of a famous Japanese Billionaire. She is known for her remarkable combat skills and her confidence in her abilities. Along with Combat, Yuna is also a fluent speaker of multiple languages and is a very intelligent young Teenager.

Yuna is initially introduced to the story as a Friendly and kind student to Akira Yamamoto. However, due to her honest and straightforward nature, Yuna quickly becomes friends with both Akira

She is a strong and independent character who is not afraid to speak up and share her opinion with others. Being a skilled Fighter, Yuna is disciplined and hard-working, always striving to improve her abilities.

Yuna's values are very important to her, and she values honesty and loyalty more than anything else in her relationships. She is always willing to lend a helping hand to her friends in need.

While she may appear tough and unapproachable at times, Yuna has a warm and kind heart beneath her exterior. Her integrity and dedication to her passions make her an admirable character, despite initially appearing as a cold and distant student to one of the story's main characters.

Hiroshi Tanaka is a tall, lean teenage boy who is known for his intelligence and diligence in school. He has a particular aptitude for science and technology, often leading group discussions in his classes.

Despite his impressive academic achievements, Hiroshi is depicted as a kind and considerate person who cares deeply for his friends and classmates. He is always eager to lend a helping hand or offer advice when necessary, and he genuinely wants to see his peers succeed.

Hiroshi's reserved and socially awkward demeanor can make it difficult for him to connect with others on a deeper level. However, his tendency to think before he speaks often leads to thoughtful and insightful contributions.

Though he struggles with expressing his emotions, Hiroshi's loyalty and dedication to his friends are never in question. He is always there when they need him and can be depended on in a pinch.

Hiroshi's passion for science and technology sets him apart from his peers, but his kindness and dedication make him a valuable friend to those lucky enough to know him.

Takumi Hashimoto is a confident and independent young man with a rebellious spirit. He has always marched to the beat of his own drum and is not afraid to speak his mind, even if his views are unpopular. He has a reputation for being a bit of a troublemaker, but his friends know that he has a heart of gold.

Despite his independent streak, Takumi is fiercely loyal to his friends. He will do anything to help those he cares about, and he has a strong sense of justice that drives him to stand up for what is right, even if it puts him in danger.

Takumi has a close relationship with his grandfather, who has taught him many important life lessons. His grandfather is a wise and respected member of the community, and Takumi values his advice and guidance. He often turns to his grandfather for support and direction when he feels lost or uncertain.

Takumi is also known for his love of adventure and his willingness to take on a challenge. He enjoys trying new things and pushing himself to his limits. He is a skilled athlete and has a competitive streak that motivates him to strive for success in everything he does.

Overall, Takumi is a strong and determined character who is not afraid to stand up for what he believes in. His loyalty to his friends and his rebellious spirit make him a compelling and interesting character that audiences will root for.

Naoko Tsukumo is a kind and compassionate young Teenager who is well-respected in her community for her caring nature. She is known for always going out of her way to help others and never hesitates to lend a hand whenever someone is in need.

Naoko Tsukumo is a deeply empathetic person and is always attuned to the emotions of those around her. She has a healing presence that makes people feel comfortable and at ease. Her gentle and calming aura draws people to her, and it is not uncommon for her to be the person people turn to when they need a shoulder to lean on.

Naoko is also a fierce advocate for those who are marginalised or disadvantaged. She is passionate about social justice issues and is always looking for ways to support those in need. Her dedication to making the world a better place is an inspiration to those around her, and her tireless efforts have made a significant impact on her community.

Despite her caring nature, Naoko is no pushover. She is strong and determined, and she is always willing to stand up for what she believes is right. Her unwavering conviction and commitment to justice make her a force to be reckoned with, and she is not afraid to speak out against injustice when she sees it.

Overall, Naoko is a character who embodies the best qualities of human compassion and empathy. She is a shining example of how one person can make a difference in the world by dedicating themselves to caring for others.

Emiko Kawamoto is a young woman who comes from a wealthy family. Her family has one of the most affluent and prestigious reputations in the city, and Emiko has always enjoyed the benefits of her privileged life. Despite her outward beauty, she is known for her entitled and dismissive attitudes towards others.

Emiko is hardened by her wealth and starved of the kind of attention she craves from her busy parents. This has led her to develop a manipulative and selfish demeanor. She usually turns to snobbery and sabotages anyone who dares to threaten her privileged position.

Emiko believes that she is better than everyone else and looks down upon those who she perceives as less than her. She uses her wealth and influence to get what she wants, and she is not afraid to tread on others to maintain her status.

However, Emiko is not entirely unsympathetic. She longs for the approval of her cold and distant mother and tries hard to impress her but often falls short. She is insecure behind her confident exterior. Her personality is shaped by her environment, and she is a product of the shallow, unemotional, and upper-class values of her upbringing.

Emiko's destructive behaviour makes her a challenging and difficult person to deal with. Her entitlement, coupled with her manipulation and lack of empathy, make her a complex villain for those who are unwilling to tolerate her actions.

The antagonist

Yuri Sasaki is a charismatic, manipulative, and highly intelligent woman who enjoys causing chaos and turmoil. Her sadistic personality has made her a feared and dangerous adversary. She believes that the only way to achieve true happiness is by creating a world full of despair. She has a talent for fashion design, which she uses to her advantage to manipulate others around her.

Yuri is highly skilled in intelligence gathering, which makes her a formidable opponent. She is able to discern people's weaknesses and use them against them. She is also able to devise elaborate plans and schemes that often go undetected until it's too late.

Yuri often uses her charm and charisma to manipulate people into doing her bidding. Her words are enchanting and can make people do things they would not normally do. She is an unpredictable and dangerous character that instills fear in those around her.

Despite her villainous ways, Yuri is not without her own vulnerabilities. She has a tragic past that has driven her to seek out a world full of despair. Her ruthless demeanor is often used as a shield to protect herself from being hurt again. Nevertheless, she is a force to be reckoned with and a true challenge for any hero who wishes to bring her down.

Yuri's Backstory was A complete mystery. But there's was a secret that nobody in Hikarizaka High school knew, Except Setsuna Onishi. Yuri was born with a mental Disorder called HPD ( Histrionic personality disorder is a mental health condition marked by unstable emotions, a distorted self-image and an overwhelming desire to be noticed. People with HPD often behave dramatically or inappropriately to get attention.)

Setsuna Onishi is a girl who is described as having cold and calculating tendencies, with a penchant for violence and manipulation. She is highly intelligent and able to think on her feet, always ready to execute Yuri's plans with precision and efficiency. Despite her lack of empathy, Setsuna is fiercely loyal to Yuri and will go to great lengths to protect her interests.

Setsuna's past is shrouded in mystery, but it is known that she was recruited by Yuri Sasaki at a young age and has been under her employ ever since. It is also rumored that Setsuna has undergone extensive training in martial arts and weapon handling, making her a formidable opponent in combat.

Despite her intimidating persona, Setsuna has a vulnerable side that she keeps carefully hidden. She harbors a deep-seated fear of abandonment and has grown to rely on Yuri for emotional support and guidance. This reliance often causes her to overlook Yuri's more questionable actions and blindly follow her commands.

As the story progresses, Setsuna begins to question the morality of her actions and whether serving Yuri is truly worth sacrificing her own humanity. This inner conflict leads to tension between her and Yuri, and eventually, Setsuna must choose between her loyalty to Yuri and her own conscience.

Haru Kato is a friendly and outgoing young man who is friends with Yuna Suzuki, Akira Yamamoto, Takumi Hashimoto and Kenji Nakamura, He is known for his warm personality and his ability to make anyone feel at ease.

Despite being a bit of a goofball, Haru is extremely loyal to his friends and will do anything to help them in their time of need. He may not always take things seriously, but when push comes to shove, he is always there for the people he cares about.

Haru's easy-going nature makes him popular with just about everyone he meets. He is always down for a good time and loves to have fun. He has a talent for lifting people's spirits and making them feel better when they are down.

Despite his happy-go-lucky exterior, Haru has a few secrets and struggles with some personal issues. He sometimes feels like he doesn't fit in with his group of friends, but he tries his best to hide these feelings so as not to burden anyone else.

Overall, Haru is a lovable and relatable character who adds a fun and light-hearted presence to the group. He is a great friend and an all-around nice guy who audiences will root for.

Kaito and Megumi Kimura are iconic twins who are as different from each other as night and day. Kaito is a confident and outgoing young Teenager who is always the life of the party, while Megumi is a shy and introverted young Teenager who prefers to keep to herself.

Despite their differences, Kaito and Megumi share a strong bond. They have always been there for each other, and they know exactly how to support and encourage one another when times get tough.

Kaito is a natural athlete, with a talent for just about any sport he tries. He's also an excellent student and takes his studies seriously. His competitive streak can sometimes get him into trouble, but his heart is always in the right place.

Megumi, by contrast, is more artistically inclined. She loves to draw and paint, and spends most of her free time lost in her own world of creativity. She struggles with social anxiety and finds it difficult to open up to new people, but those who take the time to get to know her never regret it.

Despite their differences, Kaito and Megumi share a deep love and respect for each other. They would do anything for one another and always have each other's backs. They may be two very different people, but together they make an unstoppable team.

Overall, Kaito and Megumi are a fascinating pair of twins who are sure to capture the hearts of audiences with their unique personalities and strong bond.

#Soulmates #high school

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90363462 · 2 years ago

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Inspirational Anime Couples That Are Absolutely Perfect for Each Other

Steven JohnSeptember 24, 2022

Think about some of the most famous couples from arts and literature, not to mention from world history. There is the tragic love of Romeo and Juliet, of course, and the ill-fated bond between Antony and Cleopatra. Far more recently, Marge and Homer Simpson (somehow) endure, while David and Patrick from Schitt’s Creek inspire relationship goals. Those relationships, from plays, films and television, share little in common, except for an undeniable love. A similar bond can be found elsewhere, too, among some of the best anime couples.

RELATED: 120 of the Best Anime Quotes of All Time

As any fan can attest, there are numerous anime couples every bit as compelling as any presented by Shakespeare. Among the many cute anime couples are some from famous properties like Dragon Ball Z. Others are more obscure, at least to anyone who isn’t an anime fan. However, they will charm those who give them a chance.

Before we discuss some of the best anime couples, let’s first make sure we’re on the same page when it comes to the medium.

What Is Anime, Anyway?

Dragon Ball Z

Long story short, “anime” generated refers to animated television series or movies that originate in Japan. However, in Japan, it’s a blanket term for any animated work, regardless of where it was produced.

The word itself is not shorthand for the English term “animation.” Rather, it’s how “animated cartoon” is said in Japanese. There are aspects of anime that are seen as typical, such as dramatic action, and exaggerated expressions and body movements. But in terms of the storylines and settings, the field is broad. That’s one of the reasons there are so many wonderful anime couples. Their love stories can be found anywhere the writers and illustrators can create.

Here are six of the best anime couples you can find.

Misaki and Usui, ‘Kaichou wa Maid-Sama‘

Often called simply Maid Sama!, Kaichō wa Meido-sama! (“The Class President Is a Maid!”) is based on the manga series by Hiro Fujiwara. The title mostly gives away the premise. It’s a romantic comedy that centers around Misaki Ayuzawa, the first female student council president of the former all-boys school. Although she develops a reputation for disliking her rowdy male classmates, Misaki secretly works after school at a maid cafe, to support her family. Unfortunately, Takumi Usui, a popular boy at school, discovers her secret.

RELATED: 15 Amazing Female Anime Characters and What Your Favorite Says About You

Maid Sama! work so well because the main characters are in a classic “opposites attract” scenario. Initially it seems as though there’s every reason for them not to become romantically involved. Heck, they should actively repel each other. The series endeared fans to hard-working Misaki and to Usui, the archetypal big man on campus. They love how, even with the decks stacked against them, these two stuck it out.

Winry and Edward, ‘Fullmetal Alchemist‘

Winry is one of the most popular female anime characters. That shouldn’t be surprising, given the role she plays in Fullmetal Alchemist. Created by Hiromu Arakawa, it follows brothers Edward and Alphonse Elric as they try to undo the damage following a failed attempt to bring resurrect their mother.

Winry keeps Edward going, quite literally, using her mechanic skills to restore his prosthetic arm and leg, as needed. Their bond, which began in childhood, grows into true love. They become one of the best anime couples of all time, anchoring the beloved steampunk world of Fullmetal Alchemist.

Mikasa and Eren, ‘Attack on Titan‘

Attack on Titan has delighted fans since the manga debuted in 2009. The anime adaptation, which premiered in 2013, won’t air its final episodes until sometime in 2023. Created by Hajime Isyama, Attack on Titan is set in a world where the last remnants of humanity live in cities encircled behind enormous walls, and battle flesh-eating giants known as Titans.

RELATED: These Disney “Failures” Prove Your Idea of Success May Be Wrong

Arguably the most enduring element of the series is the love story of Erin and Mikasa, which is all the more poignant because it is doomed. Much will be spoiled right here, so be warned. So doomed is their love that it’s none other than Mikasa who slays Eren. Given his turn to darkness, she has little choice. Before she does, however, they endure — even when their relationship is strained beyond belief.

It’s not a pretty romance, but the feelings between Mikasa and Eren are undeniable, if undeniably sad.

Yuki and Kaname, ‘Vampire Knight’

What is it about vampires and their romantic lives that we humans find so difficult to resist? From Bram Stoker’s Dracula to Anne Rice’s The Vampire Chronicles to Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight, people love when vampires fall in love, especially when the objection of their desire isn’t another vampire.

RELATED: She-Hulk’s Sexual Liberation Is Crucial for Marvel and Disney+

That’s certainly the case with Vampire Knight. Based on the manga by Matsuri Hino, the romantic storyline is a complicated one. As usual, a human, Yuki, develops romantic feelings for a vampire, Kaname. But in this case, Yuki is also the object of the affection of Zero, her adoptive brother, who is an avowed vampire hater and hunter. That would complicate matters enough on their own. But, as it happens, Zero is leading a secret double life … as a vampire.

Meliodas and Elizabeth, ‘Seven Deadly Sins’

Don’t worry, Meliodas and Elizabeth have a happy ending in Seven Deadly Sins. After the defeat of the Demon King and Cath, they even get married and have a child, named Tristan. However, it takes this popular anime couple a long time to get there.

RELATED: Walt Disney’s Life Story: A Mouse, Eternal Life, and a Stolen Rabbit

Both characters are shown to have had difficult lives before Nakaba Suzuki’s Seven Deadly Sins even begins. And we do means lives. In this series, the characters are reborn many times over. Set in a magical world resembling medieval Europe, the story follows seven knights, each of whom represents one of the Deadly Sins (pride, wrath, envy, greed, lust, gluttony and sloth). The leader, Meliodas, is tasked with reuniting the knights after they disband in disgrace. His love story with Elizabeth dates back generations, during which time he has witnessed her die time and again.

With each death and rebirth, Meliodas gets closer to becoming the good person he wants to be — and to not losing Elizabeth again.

Trunks and Mai, ‘Dragon Ball Z’

One of the mot influential anime of all time, Dragon Ball Z predates the other properties on this list. The 1989 sequel to Akira Toriyama’s Dragon Ball, the anime continues the adventures of Son Goku as he battles the enemies of Earth. That includes everything from evil robots to alien invaders to magical monsters. That may not sound like a premise ripe for romance, but it certainly was. Only not for Goku, always seems more interested in training or fighting than in romance or family.

No, the true romantic couple to watch in Dragon Ball Z is Trunks and Mai. Although Mai is a “mere” human she bravely fights beside Trunks’ side. It only makes sense that both of these characters survive the apocalypse, and that their romance is not only intact but stronger after the many trials and tribulations.

KEEP READING:

Chris Evans Reacted to Captain America’s Virginity Reveal – Why Is It a Big Deal?

Steven John

Steven John is a writer based near New York City (after 12 years in LA, four in Boston, and the first 18 just outside DC). When not writing or spending time with his wife, son, and daughter, he frequently jogs and bikes, sometimes gets in a kayak, and occasionally climbs mountains. He writes for several major outlets, and his novels can be found on his website stevenjohnbooks.com

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soulscribe786 · 17 days ago

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The "Spooky" Places of Whitby

Whitby is a rapidly growing community. A combination of new and modern infrastructure as well as old buildings that are almost 100 years old. The downtown area of Whitby gives a very old town atmosphere. Almost like folklore stories such as Beauty and the Beast, Cinderella, The Little Mermaid. There are merchants with small shops, unique art, clothes, vintage furniture and other locally produced merchandise. The buildings have a sort of Celtic design. One thing that particularly stands out is the library which is very modern architecture. This gives the downtown Whitby core a combination of very modern and very Celtic architecture.

Since I had moved into Whitby, I had always heard about the annual ‘Ghost Walks’ that happen every year. This is something that really fascinated me. Growing up, I had always been exposed to and in awe of stories including jinn stories, the Goosebumps series, and driving in dark woods, visiting haunted houses or watching scary movies. Furthermore, I was also fascinated by ancient architecture of civilizations including the Mayans, Egyptian pyramids and various other traditions and the historical significance of places as well as impact on shaping the society as it is in the present. It is also interesting, especially when seeing old architectural places, to explore the older culture. The ‘Ghost Walk’ was one way to learn about it.

My first aim of the Ghost Walk, to be “scared” was not achieved. It was not scary, it could even be said it was a comedy. The escort made light jokes about walking through a residential area that seemed like one of those safe neighborhood areas ‘deadly roads and deadly intersections’. The actors also had comedy in all their scripts and plays. I don’t even think they were aiming to be scary. No one in the crowd was scared either. However, the stories of ghosts that people had experienced were scary as well as sharing snippets of the history of the buildings.

The first place, presently called the Centennial Building or the Whitby Courthouse Theatre, was once an actual court and a jail. This building was built between 1852 and 1854. Many residents have said the building contains paranormal activities and the building has a dark history. History says that the first ghost was seen in 1873. There are rumors about a tall man with a hat. Lights have also been known to turn on and off themselves and doors randomly slamming shut.

Some strange occurrences in the building include being haunted by those who faced false allegations or verdicts in the court and people who fell off the ledge of the place the jury is meant to stand. This includes the man who cheated on his wife with another woman, and the wife continues to haunt the place because she supposedly died. The building's dark history, which seems to include a jail (Ontario County Jail) and chambers. It is also believed to be have a burial ground and ghosts sometimes appear through walls, or falling lady appears.

The Whitby Library also has an interesting history dating back to 1850. Originally it was a place only wealthy men who could afford it had the privilege of utilizing. There were books, reading rooms and literature was reserved for the middle and upper class. This was done by the Mechanics Institute. There was also a fire in 1968 that destroyed a vast collection of books but after seven years, with the help and support of philanthropist, the community put in efforts to rebuild it and plans were made for a new building. It was later restructured to be a free public library under the Public Libraries Act in 1895. The library also expanded to cater to the growing population needs as well as opening up various branches across Whitby for accessibility. The present day Whitby library is a community hub, offers a variety of programming, has digital resources and services beyond books as well as historical roots.

Some ghost stories about Whitby library include the descendent of the founding members who still likes to roam the library. Other ghosts roaming the area include those who were looking for money so they could read the books, and someone distributing ice cream at the old location.

Other historical sites include old churches, houses that were utilized for different things, a wishing well, historical monumental places, and a local murder mystery that has never been solved up to this day with the ghost supposedly still roaming the park. We also passed by what used to be a horse stale, as horses were the primary means of transportation at the time, which has been transformed into grocery stores, presently. The horse stale was interesting because it is a tall wall with stairs going downwards and understanding the history of the initial architectural design enables one to gain better awareness of why it is structured the way that it is.

There are many old sites in downtown Whitby with historical significance to the residents of Whitby, as well as ghost stories shared in folktales. All in all it was interesting hearing one aspect of the history of the place.

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sam4samina-blog · 1 year ago

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Literary Fiction Subgenres:

Bildungsroman: It is a literary genre that focuses on the psychological and moral growth of the protagonist from childhood to adulthood (coming of age), in which character change is important.To Kill a Mockingbird

Great Expectations

The Kite Runner

The Catcher in the Rye

The Perks of Being a Wallflower

Drama: In literature, a drama is the portrayal of fictional or non-fictional events through the performance of written dialog (either prose or poetry). There are four main forms of drama. They are comedy, tragedy, tragicomedy and melodrama.Hamlet

The Miser

The Importance Of Being Earnest

Death of a Salesman

Experimental literature: Writers of experimental fiction are more interested in being innovative than in being understood. What’s “experimental” to one generation of readers may not be to the next, as innovations become conventions.Jakob von Gunten

The Friend

Inspirational fiction: While the subgenre of inspirational fiction is not considered a rigorous category by many libraries, it is frequently used. Possible criteria that have been suggested as categorizing a book as inspirational fiction include novels whose main purpose is depict an example of change in the life of a major characters in order to inspire readers to make such changes in their own life.

Literary nonsense: Literary nonsense (or nonsense literature) is a broad categorization of literature that balances elements that make sense with some that do not, with the effect of subverting language conventions or logical reasoning. Even though the most well-known form of literary nonsense is nonsense verse, the genre is present in many forms of literature. Limericks are probably the best known form of nonsense verse, although they tend nowadays to be used for straightforward humour, rather than having a nonsensical effect.

Philosophical fiction: Philosophical fiction refers to the class of works of fiction which devote a significant portion of their content to the sort of questions normally addressed in philosophy. These might explore any facet of the human condition, including the function and role of society, the nature and motivation of human acts, the purpose of life, ethics or morals, the role of art in human lives, the role of experience or reason in the development of knowledge, whether there exists free will, or any other topic of philosophical interest. Philosophical fiction works would include the so-called novel of ideas, including some science fiction, utopian and dystopian fiction, and the Bildungsroman.The Factory

Anathem

She Came to Stay

The Wind That Lays Waste

Invisible Man

Realistic fiction: Realistic fiction is a genre consisting of stories that could have actually occurred to people or animals in a believable setting. These stories resemble real life, and fictional characters within these stories react similarly to real people. Stories that are classified as realistic fiction have plots that highlight social or personal events or issues that mirror contemporary life.

Traditional story: (Folklore)

Anecdote: An anecdote is a short and amusing or interesting story about a biographical incident. It may be as brief as the setting and provocation of a bon mot. An anecdote is always presented as based on a real incident involving actual persons, whether famous or not, usually in an identifiable place; whether authentic or not, it has verisimilitude or truthiness.

Apologue: An apologue or apolog is a brief fable or allegorical story with pointed or exaggerated details, meant to serve as a pleasant vehicle for a moral doctrine or to convey a useful lesson without stating it explicitly. It is like a parable, except that it contains supernatural elements like a fable, often the personification of animals or plants. Unlike a fable, the moral is more important than the narrative details. As with the parable, the apologue is a tool of rhetorical argument used to convince or persuade.

Fable: A fable, as a literary genre, is a succinct fictional story, in prose or verse, that features animals, legendary creatures, plants, inanimate objects, or forces of nature that are anthropomorphised, and that illustrates a moral lesson (a "moral"), which may at the end be expressed explicitly in a pithy maxim.

Fairy tale: A fairy tale is a type of short story that typically features folkloric fantasy characters, such as fairies, goblins, elves, trolls, dwarves, giants, mermaids or gnomes, and usually magic or enchantments. However, only a small number of the stories refer to fairies. The stories may nonetheless be distinguished from other folk narratives such as legends (which generally involve belief in the veracity of the events described)[20] and explicitly moral tales, including beast fables.

Ghost story: A ghost story may be any piece of fiction, or drama, or an account of an experience, that includes a ghost, or simply takes as a premise the possibility of ghosts or characters' belief in them.

Legend: A legend is a narrative of human actions that are perceived both by teller and listeners to take place within human history and to possess certain qualities that give the tale verisimilitude. Legend, for its active and passive participants includes no happenings that are outside the realm of "possibility", defined by a highly flexible set of parameters, which may include miracles that are perceived as actually having happened, within the specific tradition of indoctrination where the legend arises, and within which it may be transformed over time, in order to keep it fresh and vital, and realistic.

Myth of origins: An origin myth is a myth that purports to describe the origin of some feature of the natural or social world. One type of origin myth is the cosmogonic myth, which describes the creation of the world. However, many cultures have stories set after the cosmogonic myth, which describe the origin of natural phenomena and human institutions within a preexisting universe.

Parable: A parable is a succinct story, in prose or verse, that illustrates one or more moral, religious, instructive, or normative principles or lessons. It differs from a fable in that fables use animals, plants, inanimate objects, and forces of nature as actors that assume speech and other powers of humankind, while parables generally feature human characters. It is a type of analogy.

Tall tale: A tall tale is a story with unbelievable elements, related as if it were true and factual.

Urban legend: An urban legend, urban myth, urban tale, or contemporary legend, is a form of modern folklore consisting of stories that may or may not have been believed by their tellers to be true. As with all folklore and mythology, the designation suggests nothing about the story's veracity, but merely that it is in circulation, exhibits variation over time, and carries some significance that motivates the community in preserving and propagating it. Despite its name, an urban legend does not necessarily originate in an urban area. Rather, the term is used to differentiate modern legend from traditional folklore in pre-industrial times. For this reason, sociologists and folklorists prefer the term contemporary legend.

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jamiefantana · 2 years ago

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Sunday Scaries Somedays Scare Me

This was my first ever tinyletter column. Written... oh damn, 2/20/22.

I had something totally different for this, already written, but I want to save it for later. Also, it's Sunday evening and I'm in my feelings. The first time I heard the phrase "the Sunday Scaries," I was in South Korea. It was 2016, and a co-worker of mine just let the phrase drop in the middle of whatever mixture of self-deprecating-rants-masking-actual-self-loathing talk he was talking. I remember asking him about it, and he explained that it was the dread one feels right before the beginning of another week. I was shocked and awed. It put into perfect definition a feeling I've had basically my entire life. I don't know who was the first person to come up with the term "Sunday Scaries," but they were probably German. East German. Even as a young James, a Lil Baby Jamie if you will, I've had periods of things being rough. Middle school, as a whole, was pretty awful. Puberty was striking everyone down, like Darth Vader. Or Covid. We were getting the hormones without the maturity. And oh did I dread going to school, being at school, doing school work... high school was alright. Even went to prom with a pretty redhead. But around that, school could suck. To this day, my pulse quickens when I hear the theme song to King of the Hill. And I like King of the Hill! Everybody does! But hearing that country-fried guitar meant that the week was coming. Times change, people grow. You enter a period of your life called college, and suddenly your biggest concern is "am I going to pass this class?" which if you're like me, your answer will be "of course, you're an English major, you'd have to work harder to fail it." But then with that English degree so easily won, you get out into the real world, and upon learning you can't just show up in Los Angeles with a diploma and get hired to write for King of the Hill, you tend to find work wherever you can find it. Hell, not just liberal arts majors, a large part of millennial job interviews go like this- "Says here you graduated in 2011 with an English degree." "Yeah, that's right." "Then you got a job at Home Depot." "Sure did." "And then a job as a barback at Flannigan's Hole." "Uh huh." "Your last job was as a mutual fund representative for DNR Analytics." "It was." "Just curious, why did you choose this career path after college?" "Because I didn't want to be homeless. Now Bob, tell me if I'm gonna be able to pay rent this month or not." As an adult, you get reacquainted with the Sunday Scaries real quick. And if you missed them the first time, you partake in the shared experience of the rest of us. The Sunday Scaries exist as a kind of silent alarm. A sign that you're not where you want to be, either socially, financially, geographically, or psychologically. Nobody completely satisfied with their life feels them. John Cena probably wakes up, does the "you can't see me" taunt to the sun, and then gets ready for his day of being a beloved former-professional wrestler/current critically acclaimed action-comedy star. Mark Zuckerberg probably gets up, attempts to mimic human emotion, reboots, then recommits to his mission of brainwashing Boomers and destroying democracy. The Sunday Scaries are for the rest of us. And they existed long before the official term. In music, Moz moped that "every day is like Sunday/every day is silent and grey." In literature, Toru Watanabe in Haruki Murakami's Norwegian Wood wondered "how many Sundays - how many hundreds of Sundays like this - lay ahead of me? 'Quiet, peaceful, and lonely' I said aloud to myself." Saturday night is the party night. S-A-TUR-DAY-Night. Sundays are the hangover. As a kid, you get the world's most uncomfortable clothes pulled over you and find out how you were born hellbound. As an adult, you wake up with a headache, sometimes alone, sometimes with a stranger, as you listlessly scroll through social media and compare your unedited behind-the-scenes footage to the world's highlight reels and realize even the mature and secular can create their own hell. All one can do is try to attain a life where the Sunday Scaries don't exist. To return to those halcyon days, whenever they were for you personally, where the upcoming week held no particular power over you. Or, god forbid, held promise and pleasure. Sure, it might be tough to do in a world with a global pandemic, global military conflict, global unrest, growing income disparity... but nobody every said it'd be easy! Now if you excuse me, I'll wrap it up here. I have to do my weekly wash and prepare for another week as... data... transponder for a financial... oversight... I have a desk and quotas. I know that much.

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goji-pilled · 2 years ago

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i'm still not done... this is still technically the set up... god... anyways here's me trying to flush out this brand spankin new OC nd addin lore nd context to this story.

Nakano was currently limping as best as she could to Mitikihara Hospital after running from her friend- no, the monster that took Nagi-chan’s face.

Bushida Nakano is a girl who didn’t want much out of life besides the usual “happiness” and cliche desires teens want when they grow up. She was raised by well-enough-off parents who did everything they could to be kind and caring, helping her whenever she ever needed assistance in growing up or just being there when times were rough on her. They helped her find her love in action and in comedies, always bouncing off one another during the early mornings and late evenings when pop got back from work, even encouraged her… less diplomatic way of resolving conflict with unsavory sorts with the Mitikihara Martial Arts club; heck pop and ma went ahead and even taught her some moves to start her off.

Yes, Bushida Nakano was a fairly content and happy teenage girl who went through most of her first semester at Mitikihara High wanting nothing more than what she already had.

And then she met Nagisa “Tomoe” von Seckendorff one night and everything changed. Okay, well, it didn’t change at all until that next week, and she technically already met Seckendorff during the start of the school year and even then she didn’t really know anything about the gal.

But for some reason, she wanted to get to know her.

Nagisa - or ‘Lotte as she liked to be called sometimes, didn’t mind not being called by her family name which, yeah - was an enigma to Nakano. During their first week of classes, Nagisa-san would often have some trouble with subjects like literature and history but seemed to prosper in home-ec and mathematics. Then there was that time when one of the third years was picking on a second year, and just before Nakano was about to unleash the hammer of justice on ‘em Nagisa just rounded the corner and had none of it; the tall first year had snuck up on them somehow and grabbed one of the bullies’ hands before he swung, and just tossed him into a trash can before knocking some sense into the others.

When Nakano asked at the time, consoling the second year and tending to his bruised neck, why Nagisa would do something like that the girl just responded, “Mama raised me right, and Ma wouldn’t have it if I didn’t help someone in need.” Women after her own heart~.

Soon Nakano was paying more attention to Nagisa-san during class hours and noticed some other peculiarities about the girl. Sometimes the tall platinum blonde - not white or gray, as she and the rest of the first year posse of gossip girls learned the hard way - would stare off into the city and mutter under her breath to herself; Nakano was no worldy sort but she could’ve sworn she heard some bits of German when she caught some whispers (and felt fiercely vindicated when she was right). On days when some poor sap didn’t have anything to eat or enough cash to buy some lunch from student stores, Nagisa-san would just pull out pieces of cheese she was munching on from outta nowhere and just offer some. Nagisa-san always had this sad and distant look whenever she offered, but she always had such a bright smile when someone took a piece or two…

What really made Nakano want to become friends with Nagisa-san however, was when the class went on a short field trip to the heart of Mitikihara City and entered a museum dedicated to Mitikihara’s rapidly promising growth over the years. When she was being heckled by some chauvinist assholes and about to give them a piece of her mind, Nagisa-san was nearby with a witty quip to distract them all, directing all attention on her. She sauntered a ways towards the gift shop while taunting the pricks before suddenly getting in their faces and whispering something Nakano couldn’t hear. The jerks left and all Nagisa-san did was giggle with a cheeky smile.

Oh, she wanted to be this girl’s friend so bad.

She got her wish when she bumped into Nagisa-san one night when she was headed back home after a long club session; the sun had gone down and the seedier entitled assholes were starting to roam the night. When she stumbled upon the taller girl who wore a weird cross between a shawl and nightie over a brown crop top, long black and red polka-dotted gloves reaching the elbows, with an open-fronted skirt over brown tights with padded re soles Nakano couldn’t stop herself from stuttering out, “You headed to the Netherlands for a cheesecake confection?”

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

She could only breathe a sigh of relief when Nagisa-san stuttered a lame, “You run outta gum to kick an’ asses to chew?”

From then on they became the closest peas in a pod anyone could’ve met. Of course, it didn’t start off that way: Nakano had all but dragged Nagisa-san to her home to meet her folks over dinner and to explain why the hell she was wearing such a ridiculous outfit. When they reached the home front, however, Nagisa-san had changed out of her getup into her school uniform somehow while Bushida kept an iron grip on her wrist. Did she just change her clothes while Nakano didn’t notice, in the dark of night, while in public, all while she was holding onto the taller girl’s wrist!?

She didn’t focus all that well after those thoughts and barely got through introducing Nagisa-san as her friend to ma and pa before said new friend went home.

So that's how Bushida Nakano cornered Nagisa "Tomoe" 'Lotte von Secekendorff on the school rooftop and demanded answers from the tall silver haired girl. Who promptly did her best to nonchalantly deny any sort of weirdness that could have happened last night and walked back to class. It was then and there that the martial artist performed her ultimate fighting technique.

Relentless puppy dog eyes! With incessant questioning!

It didn't work… for a week Nakano gave her best impression of a kicked puppy begging for scraps with shiny eyes and a quivering lip, and it got nothing out of Nagisa-san. Neither did any of her attempts to ask innocuous questions about her little late night cosplay adventure. No matter what she did or what questions she asked the taller girl Nagisa-san never gave anything more than queer look and a brief "What'chu talkin' 'bout?" before going back to whatever it was they were doing. Even if she never got to the bottom of whatever weirdness Nagisa-san was keeping to herself, that was fine by her. In the end the two wound up hanging around each other so often that they just decided to seal the deal with a bow and fist bump ("You are such a dork." "S-shut up Nagi-chan!") and called themselves friends. When the puppy dog eyes got her sighs of endearment instead of forced smiles she didn't know, but Nakano didn't care to find out when it had all changed.

Actually, she probably knew when things started to be… different between the two of them. Probably around the time she followed Nagi-chan into that weird un-reality space - a labyrinth, she remembered from her friend's crash course lesson - and nearly got mauled to death by a cross breed monster that was cotton ball and tiger. That was the day when she realized what Nagi-chan was doing nearly every night after school ended. It was the day she saw her friend be so afraid and scared when she was always aloof and cool and confident. It was the day her friend confided in her what was essentially a war with no end in sight, and how she gave up her future to fight for the betterment of the world.

That was the day she realized Nagisa-san could one day not be with her anymore. That she didn't know how she'd live in a world without Nagi-chan. That Nagi-chan was more than just Nagi-chan to her.

After that revelation Nakano did her best to be strong for Nagi-chan, to be a pillar of strength for when the days were too much for her friend. Whenever they hung out after their extracurricular activities they met up at either the Mitikihara Shopping Center or at each other's houses. She'd try her best to give Nagi-chan some form of a normal teenage girl life that was robbed of her, and they would do their best to finish their calculus homework while babysitting Anthony-kun and Tatsuya-kun. One day Nagi-chan came over in the dead of night one winter, standing outside her front door with a nasty bruise on her stomach with a limp arm clutching the other; she had never seen her friend look so very tired before. Everything was just a blur after she dragged her friend inside to tend to the wounds. In one moment she was applying rubbing alcohol and bandages to the wounds, the next they were hugging on the bed in Nakano's spartan-like bedroom.

Then, the silence between the two was broken as Nagisa asked her a question.

"Ka-chan… would you miss me… if one day I…"

She didn't need to finish that thought, whether it be the pragmatic inevitability of the magical girl's fate or a tired, sad, and lonely girl's more intrusive ideas; she's confided in her friend thoughts and frustrations she believed she could never divulge with her family.

But the answer was so easy to give.

"Of course I would, Nagi-chan."

"...Would you still be with me… if one day I… wasn't myself?"

Another thought, another easy answer.

"I'll always be with you, no matter what. I'll always be there for you."

"... Nakano…" the taller one pushed herself out of the hug, and looked into the tomboy's eyes. "I don't know if I could… go on without telling you something, really really important."

A nod, and a firm grip on her friend's hand. A sign of trust, to listen to whatever needed to be said. No matter what it was, she knew she'd stay with Nagisa-san.

"I-I don't know, what I am to you is more than or just as a friend. But, you mean so much more to me than just a friend, Nakano. I wanted to tell you, before there's a day I don't come back…

"And… I wondered if you ever felt… something more between us, or if I was just d-deluding myself."

She already knew what answer to give.

That was the day they became a pair, and today was supposed to be a day where they celebrated their relationship having lasted for so long; a miracle for Nagi-chan based on her old romance experiences. But then everything spiralled into disaster. They were trapped with a labyrinth, a barrier created to protect witches and hide them from the world. There weren't any familiars guarding the witch but they weren't needed, a team of young magical girls all lied dead by the angel they had tried to fight. Nagi-chan had created her own bubble barrier to protect Nakano, and then went off alone to do what a team could not.

Then searing, agonizing pained branded itself onto Nakano's arms and chest. She couldn't feel anything but the burning heat that lit her exposed flesh aflame and howled her suffering for the world to hear. And then she fell on her leg, badly, and barely contained her screams as she gasped at the sight before her. Her friend, her Nagi-chan, had a monster take one of her arms place and it was devouring the holy creature's wing. Nagi- the thing that looked like Nagi-chan slaughtered the angel, the fight ending so fast as the monster ate its way through the ephemeral witch.

When they came back to the real world Nakano was stuck trembling in fear as the thing - no, not a thing, a witch, it had to be - that took Nagi-chan's place was panting in the alley, most likely savoring its kill. The Not Nagisa then turned to face her, a feral look in its swirling eyes as it slurped its tongue back into its mouth. It made a move to get closer to her, but Nakano still had enough strength to stand and back up.

"Stay away from me, witch!"

Not Nagisa froze, most likely hoping its ruse was still salvageable enough to continue its plan to - what, hypnotize her? To manipulate her into bringing more prey? Whatever unsavory or horrid plans it had laid out for Nakano? Its face went through a variety of emotions before settling on arrogant calmness.

"Ka-chan, it's okay. We're safe now, I took care of the witch."

She wouldn't stand for this. Nakano broke down the demon's lies and then took that opportunity to do the one thing she could do.

She ran.

She ran from the witch and made her way to the hospital. Nakano took back streets and alleys to try and shorten her trip, her legs growing weak as the damage inflicted upon slowly became too much for her. Her vision started to blur as it grew harder and harder to breathe. Nakano couldn't keep herself up anymore and stumbled to the dirty floor of the shopping district.

Nakano couldn't believe it, she couldn't understand. How was that thing, that witch, able to pull the wool over her eyes for so long? How did she never notice that the Nagisa she spent these past six months with wasn't really her Nagi-chan!? Hell, was Nagi-chan even the same Nagi-chan from the beginning of the school!?!. How long had she been played and manipulated by such a wretched demon!

How did she never notice Nagi-chan's failure to come back to her?

Nakano didn't want to know, she didn't want to think about it. She tried to stop thinking, to just stop and rest, the pain becoming too much to bear and succumb to her wounds. But in the absence of her thoughts, her breathing becoming to weak for her own ears to hear, she heard- no, felt a voice.

Greetings, Bushida Nakano.

The broken girl gasped, and swiveled her head as best as she could to find the source of the voice. Her eyes settled on a white mass of fluff that stared at her with ruby eyes and a closed cheshire grin. The creature padded its way to the girl, appendages atop its head - its ears? - reached out to her chest and placed itself atop her broken leg. Ignoring the wince from Nakano's mouth the creature continued.

You hold great potential within your heart. With how much latent power you hold, I could grant you any wish you so desired.

A wish? Potential? What the hell was this thing talking about? Nakano wasn't strong, she was weak. She didn't have the strength to help Nagi-chan with her struggles, the power to help keep her safe from this cruel world. She was nothing…

All I ask is that you form a contract with me and become a Magical Girl, and hunt down Witches, and your wish will be granted!

Magical girls… witches… was this thing responsible for…

Nevermind… Nakano knew what she needed to do now. Her mind flashed to Nagi-chan, of how she fought battle after battle within a war with no end. Fighting against a force that would plague the world until the end of time, a thankless job for the forgotten and ignored. She remembered a distinct moment she had with Nagi-chan, when she asked if she could help her friend in any way.

"Honestly Ka-chan, just being there for me is enough."

"I know, you always say that… but couldn't I help you by also becoming a-"

"No! Don't ever finish that sentence. Don't even think about that! If you did, I'd…"

"...I'm sorry Nagi-chan. If I can help it, I won't ever allow that to happen."

"Thank you. I'm sorry, it's just… you're important to me, ya know?"

"Mhmm. I know~!"

Heh. Sorry Nagi-chan. But you'd understand, right? That this is for you?

Don't worry. I'll be with you soon.

tune in next time when I write maybe the finale for this little story. maybe, might be a two part finale. maybe an epilogue. i dunno i dont control how much i write.

／人◕ ‿‿ ◕人＼

AAAAAAAAAAAA OH THIS SO GOOD...

#felix answers #domestic witches #oh i wanna know how this goes SO badly #OUGHGHGH #io3

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trashy-mctrash · 4 years ago

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I know that Rook’s birthday has passed, but I saw a post today asking why Rook speaks French and I did look into this in an Rook Analaysis essay that I wrote for his birthday but didn’t post it here. So that post kinda made me want to post it to explain or hopefully look more into his character.

Rook Hunt is a mysterious and attractive character. Despite his unusual habits, he’s a true gentleman but is often seen as having strange characteristics. Here I will attempt to look into Rook’s character design to celebrate his birthday!!

Rook so far in the game is the only character we see speaking a language from our world, French. Some have found this confusing or unnecessary but actually, Rook speaking French makes perfect sense. Rook comes from Afterglow Savannah, a land based on the movie, the Lion King just like it’s NRC dorm counterpart. The Lion King is said to take place in Africa, specifically Kenya. Inspiration on the landscapes in the movie was from the animators visiting Kenya (Bake, 2019). French is the official language of 11 countries in Africa and the secondary language in 10, making it the 5th most spoken language in the world (Chutel, 2018). Kenya is one of the countries with french as its main language. Since rook comes from Afterglow Savannah, it’s natural that he would have qualities matching the area just like Ruggie and Leona who also come from the same place. But unlike them, Rook resides in the Pomefiore dorm, therefore he holds qualities for both of these. Therefore, Rook does not come from France or represent France, he is based on Africa and most likely comes from the twst version of it which would be Afterglow Savannah.

Although Rook is not French, many white Africans in Africa, especially South Africa originated from France, Germany and the Netherlands in 1652 (jyu.fi). It's common for some twst characters to be a mix of cultures and themes. Rook is one example of this, he’s a blend of Afterglow Savannah and Pomefiore as he comes from Afterglow and is based on the hunter from Snow White. Snow White is said to be based in Germany, specifically Germany during the Holy Roman Empire (esri). Germany is one of the three main countries previously mentioned, that majority of white Africans came from, which suits Rook’s appearance. Rook’s hats also resemble fashion from this time as well as matching his Snow White counterpart. As seen below:

Rook’s hair also appeals to both the hunter from Snow White and the matching time period. These hat styles were worn by those of higher class and by Rook wearing it, reflecting his position as deputy dorm leader of Pomefiore.

The 14th century was a time of vibrant poetry explosion fitting Rook’s personality. An example of a famous poet from this time is Dante, famously known for writing “The Divine Comedy” (Interesting Literature). He chose to write in Italian instead of Latin which was common during these times. French and Italian are both known as “romance” languages that both derived from Latin, which was the language of the Holy Roman Empire during this time (Language TSAR). When it comes to Rook giving out nicknames, these too fit the time period as it was common for people to be named after their place or qualities which is what Rook is seen as doing. An example is Riddle who he calls “Roi de Roses” which means “King of Roses” which fits the style of names of those of the high class (Benicoeur and Gwynek, 2003).

Bows were very common and practical in armies from the 12th to 16th centuries despite barely being recorded in history (Towens, 2019). This reflects perfectly onto Rook due to how little we know about him and the little trace he leaves behind which pairs well with his stealthy personality as a hunter but also shows his side as a “soldier” or a “guard” to Vil, his beliefs of beauty and possible other things we aren’t aware about. The main role of professional archers were for defense but were also used as mercenaries during crusades. Rook fits both of these as he plays the role of Vil’s defense and the protector of beauty wanting to cherish it. He can also be seen as a double edged sword as even though he stands by Vil, many have speculated that he may at some point betray Vil or help Neige doing what he believes to be most advantageous. Archery symbolises “aligning with the target” (Girvin, 2013) which means to give support towards something. Rook is seen as taking more supportive roles throughout the game by helping other students like Epel as seen in Leona’s lab coat story, helping him make a potion for his class (Twisted Wonderland Wiki). It can also mean to become the heart of a community, be truthful, in their times of need to be the voice of their minds to help solve their problems. Rook being honest can also be reflected in his arrows as they symbolise the sharp and accurate truths they contain, this can be seen in Vil’s lab coast story as he blatantly calls Vil “fat” with the intention of helping to increase his beauty, which despite his protests, Vil is seen appreciating (Twisted Wonderland Wiki).The archer is linked with the Centaur and Sagittarius (ironically his birth sign) which represents having insight which can be linked to Rook having knowledge of other students and of other things that normal people would not. Rook is known to freely speak his mind with what we see as with intentions of helping them even if his words or actions may be seen as weird or out of place, but in the end they have the effects he was aiming for or benefit the person in some way. Also “that hearts align in embracing the perfection of that targeting” (Girvin, 2013) which is poetic in Rook being a hunter and calling himself the “Hunter of Love.” An archer remains cool and observes from afar, becoming the symbol of honour, precision and patience.

In the Spanish caves of Cova dels Cavalls, they found etched carvings of archers estimated to be from about 7000 years ago (Stanley, 2020). They were believed to be a form or hunting magic ritual to manifest good hunting, this fits well with Rook being a magic user in the game and makes him wielding a bow make sense as well as again representing his Snow White counterpart. Archery and magic connections as referenced when Rook is in battle as he summons his magic attacks with an arrow releasing maneuver, as seen below:

This can also reference his love for art, arrows bound in one of the first forms of art for centuries and also shows their use and endless help throughout time. A metaphorical and physical weapon just like with Rook, attacking metaphorically with his words and physically with his arrows/magic. Arrows are meant to be simple yet two dimensional (with its pointy and flat ends), Rook too is portrayed as being simple yet ironically he is also not. Two dimensional as in maybe despite all our theorising, he may just be a simple man who loves beauty yet there are still many unanswered questions about him and his past. However this can be said for other characters in the game as well, so perhaps Rook Hunt is just a simple man with weird qualities? That is still to be discovered. “The durability of the arrow metaphor, as with archery in general, looks unlikely to go anywhere soon,” (Stanley, 2020) this is a simple symbol linked with archery which can further be associated with the idea of Rook being simple and not as complicated as we believe. Rook being able to use light and dark magic can reflect this as humans are neither dark or light, they are simple beings with desires and goals that can be either good or bad. Rook too has his desires that some might perceive as odd, his goals are simple to (as seen in the wish upon the stars event) see all the beauty in the world.

In Japan, Zen archery (or Kyudo) where the goal was to “achieve a balance among mind, body, and bow, which gives rise to a unity that links the spirit to the target,” (Encyclopedia.com, 2020). Which again reflects Rook’s ability of using both types of magic, showing his inner peace and balance and ability to use both types of magic. He is a character that we don't see explode or express vivid emotions which could be linked with his hunting too. Bow and arrows have been known as symbols of good luck against evil in Japan since immemorial. We will probably see this in action during Vil’s overblot as that will be the evil to defeat in Chapter 5 alongside the other characters.

The word “rook” has multiple meanings, like crows. Many have associated this and Rook’s poem about Crowley as them being signs of a possible connection between the two. Although this theory is very interesting and I would love for a twist like this, Disney is honestly too stupid to make a story as wonderful as that, but I could be wrong (please prove me wrong Disney). On the other hand it could symbolise Rook’s knowledge of everyone and how he could be aware of some of Crowley’s secrets or the secrets/mysterious of the school. They tend to be watchful creatures with great insight, which can be said the same for Rook as he observes other students and has knowledge of things that others normally do not have. Crows are also associated with transformation and change (Clifford, 2020) which could represent Rook helping Vil and Epel, along with others to bring forth their beauty. There is also a well known nursery rhyme about crows, as seen below:

Although the history behind the rhyme is not that clear, the seventh line does hold some connection to Rook’s wide range of secrets that he knows and holds himself. Rook is also used for loud and sociable people or animals who love to talk, Rook is known for his loud and expressive persona that fits this description. Rook can also mean cheat, which could link to him sabotaging Vil to save Neige. The name is given to those with dark hair which is clearly not Rook (with his blond locks) but could refer to his hunter counterpart instead.

Rook is famous for his golden bob that is quite the debate. However bobs have a deep history. In the 20th century, bobs used to symbolise independent, progessive people encouraging a more daring personality during those times. Movies have been the main reason for the spread and back in style of the bob. Rook embodies a free personality with his odd attire in the dorm that symbolises beauty (hunting boots and hats) showing his more bold side that can also be seen by his freely open speech. Joan of Arc is the main inspiration of the bob that was brought back by Antoine, a celebrity hairdresser, which he showed in his salon in 1909 (V is for Vintage, 2012). Although she wore it for more practical meanings, she still stands for representing the people and doing what she believed in. It’s likely though that the bob was more inspired by the hunter’s hair style for Rook yet it still represents daring and progressive people which Rook is commonly known for with his views and actions.

In conclusion, Rook Hunt is an odd yet interesting character. He is neither complex or simple. We still have much to learn about him which we hopefully will in the coming chapters and his birthday event. Although his character design may seem strange, in the end they make perfect sense when looking at the connections they all have towards the game and it’s details. I hope that this managed to clear up Rook’s character and explain more about him. However, there are a few attributes that are still questionable which if Disney has any concept of storytelling, they will explain...I hope for Rook’s sake. His stalking and obsession could be linked to how he sees himself as nothing much and viewing others as better or more beautiful, in that case he’s got some emotional package. Still does not excuse his actions. These tendencies might also be them expanding on a hunter stalking and keeping track of their prey, in this case for Rook it would be people he finds interesting. In the end he’s one of the many wonderful boys we have to learn more about and love.

References:

Baker, Craig. 2019. 25 Surprising Facts about the Lion King. Mental Floss.

https://www.mentalfloss.com/article/57386/30-facts-about-lion-king

Benicoeur, Arval and Gwynek, Talan. 2003. Fourteenth Century Venetian Personal Names. S-gabriel.org.

https://www.s-gabriel.org/names/arval/venice14/

Chutel, Lynsey. 2018. French is now the fifth most spoken world language and growing—thanks to Africans. QuartzAfrica.

https://qz.com/africa/1428637/french-is-worlds-fifth-spoken-language-thanks-to-africans/#:~:text=French%20remains%20the%20sole%20official,second%20official%20language%20in%2010.

Clifford, C Garth. 2020. Crow Symbolism & Meaning (+Totem, Spirit & Omens). World Birds.

https://www.worldbirds.org/crow-symbolism/

Encyclopedia.com. 2020. Sport and Religion. Encyclopedia.com.

https://www.encyclopedia.com/environment/encyclopedias-almanacs-transcripts-and-maps/sports-and-religion#:~:text=Throughout%20human%20history%2C%20sports%20and,their%20primary%20means%20of%20communication.

Girvin, Tim. 2013. The Symbolism Of Archery. Girvin.

https://www.girvin.com/the-symbolism-of-archery/

Interesting Literature. The Best Fourteenth-Century Poems Everyone Should Read. Interesting Literature.

https://interestingliterature.com/2019/11/the-best-fourteenth-century-poems-everyone-should-read/#:~:text=The%20fourteenth%20century%20was%2C%20in,vibrant%20language%20for%20vernacular%20poetry.

Jyu.fi. Ethinic Groups. Jyu.fi.

https://www.jyu.fi/viesti/verkkotuotanto/kp/sa/peop_ethnicgrps.shtml

Stanley, John. 2020. Archery HIstory: Arrows of the Imagination, Art and Culture Symbolism. World Archery.

https://worldarchery.org/news/178453/archery-history-arrows-imagination-art-and-cultural-symbolism

Twisted Wonderland Wiki. Leona Kingscholar/Personal Story/SR Lab Coat. Twisted Wonderland Fandom.

https://twisted-wonderland.fandom.com/wiki/Leona_Kingscholar/Personal_Story/SR_Lab_Coat

Twisted Wonderland Wiki. Vil Schoenheit/Personal Story/SR Lab Coat. Twisted Wonderland Fandom.

https://twisted-wonderland.fandom.com/wiki/Vil_Schoenheit/Personal_Story/SR_Lab_Coat

Towens. 2019. Arrows in the Middle Ages. Bow International.

https://www.bow-international.com/features/arrows-in-the-middle-ages/

V is for Vintage. 2012. The Bob: History of a Hairstyle. V is for Vintage.

https://visforvintage.net/2012/04/03/history-of-bob-hairstyle/

#I'm sorry this is soo long #it's 6 pages omg #I included references to the sites I mentioned #sorry if I made any mistakes #this was based on what I found on google so blame google #anyway Rook's deserves to have a week long birthday so it's a pass lol #rook hunt #I actually wonder if there is more i could mention next time muhahahahah #twst rook #I love u roookkkk #twst #twisted wonderland

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christinaroseandrews · 4 years ago

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Looking for a Romance this Valentine’s Day?

So, every publication and blogger is putting out a Valentine’s Day romance list, and we are nothing if not followers. We’ve assembled a large list (33 Books) of a mix of traditionally and indie published books. All of the books on this list are ones we’ve read and feel comfortable recommending. And they all fit the definition of romance - a story where the relationship is central to the overall plot and features a happy for now or happily every after ending.

We’re going to break this down into several categories because not everyone reads Regency romances (but we are going to start there).

Regency Romance

These are books set between 1795-1837. While the Regency itself was only from 1811-1820 most people use these dates including Wikipedia. This was honestly one of the hardest for us to narrow down, mostly because it’s the dominant genre in traditionally published romance -- even Contemporary doesn’t hold a candle to Regency right now.

Sweet Disorder - Rose Lerner - M/F Romance (Steamy) - Election hijinks ensue when the local election hinges on who the widowed wife of a newspaper printer marries. Other Notes: Plus-Sized Heroine, Family Drama, Disabled Characters, Everyday People Falling in Love, Marginalized Author (Jewish).

The Baroness Affair - Jean Wilde - M/M/F Romance (Steamy) - A desperate noblewoman enlists the help of a male courtesan to help her get pregnant... no it’s not what you think. Other Notes: Equal Triad Polyamory, Period Appropriate Homophobia, LBGT Romance, Family Drama.

How To Start a Scandal - Madeline Martin - M/F Romance (Steamy) - A wallflower and secret society reporter reconnects with the Earl Next Door who’s recently returned from the war. Other Notes: Plus-Sized Heroine, Family Drama, Positive Mental Illness Portrayal, Cute Plot Animals.

Project Duchess - Sabrina Jeffries - M/F Romance (Steamy) - A duke returns to his family after the mysterious death of his stepfather, yet another duke, only to be enchanted by a woman who has a connection to the last person to see his stepfather alive. Other Notes: Older Heroine (the whole series features these), Romantic Suspense Series, family drama. I’m really enjoying the whole series and it’s worth a read.

The Rakess - Scarlett Peckham - M/F Romance (Steamy) - This is a love it or hate it kind of book that flips so many of the conventional romance tropes on its ear. It features a hard-drinking, hard-smoking, highly sexual woman who authors progressive literature and causes a scandal just by living her life meeting up with a mild-mannered reputation conscious Scottish Architect with two small children. Even the cover flips the script on the classic clinch cover. I loved it. A lot people didn’t. Other notes: Period appropriate sexism/hypocrisy/etc., CW: alcoholism, neighbors to lovers, adorable plot moppets.

Paranormal Romance

These are romances that feature a fantastical element. This can be anything from vampires to shifters to time travel. These also will often be series which may or may not continue with the same relationship throughout several books.

Hot Ghost - Annika Martin - M/F Romance (Steamy) - A waitress finds love with the ghost who haunts the pier near her family’s restaurant. Other Notes: Major Character Death (It’s a Ghost Romance...), Everyday People Falling in Love, Novella.

Accepting Fate - Deanna Chase - M/F Romance (Steamy) - Fresh from a bad break up, a woman meets her soulmate at an art gallery opening. Together they have to work through their trauma and find out if they can be happy together. Other Notes: Childhood trauma, Fire Fighter Romance, Soulmates, Artists.

Gretel - Niamh Murphy - F/F Romance (Steamy) - A retelling of the fairy tale Hansel and Gretel with a very interesting twist. Other Notes: Age-Gap Romance, Novella.

One Shade of Grey - Monica Corwin - M/F Romance (Steamy) - Dorian Grey, yes that one, has a bit of a problem. He keeps seeing a woman who he thinks is the reincarnation of his lost love. But is she really? Or is he going insane? Other Notes: Positive Portrayal of Mental Illness, Classical Story Retelling, Billionaire Romance, Immortality

Tangled in Time - Barbara Longley - M/F Romance (Steamy) - Cursed to see spirits, Regan is approached by the spirit of a cursed Irish warrior. Now they must work together to lift his curse and fall in love along the way. Other Notes: Fae Romance, Time Travel Romance, Ghost Romance.

Hunger Pangs: True Love Bites - Joy Demorra - M/M/F Romance (Steamy or Fluffy) - A vampire, a werewolf, and a magic user walk into a plot to end the world. Of course they have to fall in love along the way. Other Notes: Vampire Romance, Werewolf Romance, Magic User Romance, LBGT Fantasy Romance, Bisexual Romance, Postive Mental Illness representation, Marginalized Author (Disabled, Queer, Neurodivergent).

Erotic Romance

These are books where the sex is as much a part of the romance as the rest of the story. The plots here tend to be thinner, but they’re still present and important. This is not smut for smut’s sake. The relationship is important too. All of these are going to rate high on the steam.

After Hours - Lynda Aicher - M/F Romance - An executive assistant accidentally observes an after hours orgy in one of the boardrooms. Rather than be repulsed, she’s aroused. And up for more. Other Notes: Workplace Romance, Voyeurism, Exhibitionism, Mild BDSM, Boss/Subordinate Relationship.

Loving Maddie from A to Z - Kelly Jamison - M/M/F Romance - An outwardly happy couple looks to add something to their relationship by inviting their friend into their home and bed. Other Notes: Polyamory, BDSM, Big City Romance.

Ever After - Eden French - M/M/F Romance - An erotic modern retelling of the Cinderella fairy tale featuring billionaires, celebrities, and lots of hot sex. Other Notes: Interracial Romance, Polyamory, Billionaire Romance, CW: Child Abuse.

Test Drive - N.S. Johnson - M/F Romance - A so-called good girl finds that she’s really not when she falls for the leader of a street racing crew. Other Notes: Polyamory, CW: Infidelity, Interracial Romance, Reverse Harem, Recreational Drug Use, Author of Color.

Other Historical Romance

These are romances set outside of the Regency but not during contemporary periods. A lot of old school romances tend to be this because medieval was big then. But it also includes everything up to 1990 too... Yeah... I know... I feel old.

Let It Shine - Alyssa Cole - M/F Romance (Steamy) - Set during the civil rights movement, this story follows two young people struggling to find their voice and love amidst the turmoil of the 1960s. Other Notes: Interracial Romance, Period Appropriate Racism, Period Appropriate Anti-Semitism, Author of Color, Sports Romance, Novella.

In Pursuit Of... - Courtney Milan - M/M Romance (Steamy) - Set immediately after the American War for Independence it features a British soldier falling in love with a Black man who fought for the American side. Other Notes: Interracial Romance, Romantic Comedy, period appropriate racism, author of color, Novella.

Bringing Down the Duke - Evie Dunmore - M/F Romance (Steamy) - A rare female scholar tries to keep her scholarship going while also crusading for the rights of women in Victorian England. Other Notes: Alpha Hero, Clueless Heroine.

Contemporary Romance

These romances are set in the last 25 years and run the gamut of tropes.

Get a Life, Chloe Brown - Talia Hibbert - M/F Romance (Steamy) - Sick of living her life wrapped in tissue paper, Chloe Brown sets off to live a little. And to do that, she needs the help of her building’s manager. Other Notes: Plus-Sized Heroine, Interracial Romance, Disabled Characters, Positive Portrayal of Mental Illness, Marginalized Author (Black). As a note the sequel Take a Hint, Dani Brown is just as good and features a Bisexual Woman of Color.

Beg, Borrow, or Steal - Susie Tate - M/F Romance (Fluffy) - A medical student has to juggle the needs of being a single mother, a student, and paying the bills. And if that means she’s got to take off her clothes to do that, that’s what she’s going to do. Too bad she keeps falling asleep in class. Other Notes: No Sex (No really), But also Super sex positive, Student/Teacher Relationship, Adorable Plot Moppet.

Soft Hands - Ariel Bishop - M/M Romance (Steamy) - A professional Hockey Player ends up falling for the team trainer and massage therapist. Other Notes: Bisexual Rep, Sports Romance, Interracial Romance.

The Year We Fell Down - Sarina Bowen - M/F Romance (Steamy) - Two people who’ve suffered from accidents which have left them disabled find each other at a Harvard Expy. While one of the characters only has a temporary disability (broken leg) it still fucking counts. Other Notes: New Adult Romance, Disabled characters, Sports Romance, College Romance.

Small Town Romance

A subgenre of Contemporary Romance, these are books set in a small town and often the stakes tend to be pretty low. They can run the range of no-sex to lots of steam. They are also often VERY WHITE. While many are set in America, they can also be set elsewhere with Australia and the British Isles being the most common other settings.

Falling for Her Brother’s Best Friend - Noelle Adams - M/F Romance (Steamy) - Who doesn’t love a small town romance featuring characters that used to be childhood friends becoming more? Other Notes: New Adult Romance.

The Last One - Tawdra Kandle - M/F Romance (Steamy) - Meghan, an art student, and Sam, a farmer, and how they meet in small-town Georgia when Meghan comes to teach art over the summer to the kids in town…and ends up staying with Sam and his family. Other Notes: Alpha Male Hero.

If Wishes Were Horses - Caitlyn Lynch - M/F Romance (Steamy) - When an Aussie woman inherits partial ownership in a horse ranch in Ireland, sparks fly. Other Notes: Novella, Irish Romance.

Old School Romance

These are romances that were written before the rise of indie publishing where white men had the power and it shows. These are what people point to when they reduce romance novels to just “bodice rippers” but even then they weren’t just that. BTW none of these books feature Fabio so suck it!

Skye O’Malley - Bertrice Small - M/F Romance (Steamy) - Daughter of a small Irish lord, this book follows Skye through her life and romances across England, Ireland, and even Algeria. It’s wild and all over the place and is not your typical romance novel. It ends on a HEA but there is a JOURNEY. But gods it’s one of my old-school faves. Other Notes: Major Character Death. Non-Con, Pirates, Interracial Romance, Historical Domain Characters, This is not your typical romance. I like the whole series... but that’s a me thing.

The Traveling Matchmaker Series - Marion Chesney/M.C Beaton - M/F Romance (Fluffy) - A housekeeper inherits a large sum of money and decides to use it to travel about England. Along the way, she makes matches for the other passengers of the stagecoach she’s traveling on while getting into all sorts of adventures. This series is pure fluff and I love it. Other Notes: Period appropriate xenophobia, Age Gap Romance.

Remembrance - Jude Deveraux - M/F Romance (Steamy) - A romance novelist discovers that the reason she hasn’t found love is because of an issue with her past life. So she decides to do something about it... only to find it’s just the very tip of the story. Other Notes: Time Travel Romance, Past Lives, Meta... so very meta.

Desire in Disguise - Rebecca Brandewyne - M/F Romance (Steamy) - Look this is set during the French Revolution and features duelling (quite literally) pirates. This is a wild ride and it’s so old school it hurts. Other Notes: Alpha hero, mistaken identity, enemies to lovers, spies, pirates, But oh so many problematic tropes. This looks to be out of print... so check your local library.

Gentle Warrior - Julie Garwood - M/F Romance (Steamy) - Set right after the Norman Invasion of England, this features a Norman Lord who was granted an Anglo-Saxon wife and all of the drama that comes with. Note... this is the first Romance Novel I ever read.. My mother bought it for me when it was newish -- in 1987. Other Notes: CW: Rape, Arranged Marriage, Non-conventionally Attractive Hero.

Books that check all of the boxes of Romance but aren’t Labeled as Romance because Sexism.

Romance isn’t about sex. There’s lots of books with explicit sex in them that aren’t Romance and several with a strong romantic relationship that drives the plot which ends happily and satisfying. But sexism is a thing and so here we are.

The Princess Bride - William Goldman - M/F Romance (Fluffy) - You’ve probably seen the movie. The book is also fun. And since the romance is central to the plot AND the ending is a happy one (especially in the movie) it qualifies.

The Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins - M/F Romance (Fluffy) - Look who would have thought that in a book about kids killing each other and the violence of war that Romance would play that big of a role? But it does. And it is. And it’s important.

Katherine - Anya Seton - M/F Romance (Fluffy) - This could feasibly go into Old School Romance, but apparently the publishers have decided to downplay the actual romance and try to sell this as literature. It follows the real-life Romance between Katherine Swineford and the Duke of Lancaster.

Did we leave off any of your favorites? It’s probably because we haven’t read them! We always like recs, especially featuring marginalized authors or main characters with marginalized identities.

If you like this kind of thing, consider leaving us a tip in our Ko-Fi!

#Romance novels #romance recommendations #romance books #romance #valentine's day #historical romance #regency romance #contemporary romance #small town romance #paranormal romance #old school romance

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yegarts · 3 years ago

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“I Am YEG Arts” Series: Marty Chan

Award-winning author, playwright, and professional liar since 1988. It’s quite the trifecta—and calling card. But truth be told, those accomplishments are just the tip of this iconic writer’s contribution to the arts. He’s written celebrated radio dramas and television scripts, had a play produced across Canada and Off Broadway, and is constantly inspiring the next generation of lifelong readers. What doesn’t he do? Take any of it for granted. Writer of books for kids, plays for adults, and tweets for fun. This week’s “I Am YEG Arts” story belongs to Marty Chan.

Tell us about your connection to Edmonton and why you make it your home.

For an artist breaking into the business, Edmonton was the perfect place to get my start. I had grown up in Morinville, a small town just north of the city. When I decided to pursue the arts in the late 80s, I was like every other starving artist—eager, hungry, and inexperienced. Thankfully, Edmonton’s cost of living was affordable, and the community’s support was great. Seasoned actors were willing to perform in my early shows, while artistic directors accepted my invitations to see these plays. This generosity gave me the confidence to grow as an artist. And it’s not a unique experience. I’ve heard from other artists that Edmonton has an incredible community. This is the main reason I make this city my home.

How did your love of writing begin? Were you always a storyteller, or was it a “detour” while on another path?

I had always loved stories, but I never thought I could be one of the people creating the stories until I was in Grade 11. My high school language arts teacher gave our class a homework assignment to describe how we would redecorate our bedrooms if we had a million dollars. So I went to town describing a bed on an elevator that could descend to a private movie theatre, a library, a fully stocked kitchen, a video arcade, and a private swimming pool. My teacher loved what I wrote and suggested I pursue writing. He opened my eyes to a career that I never imagined possible, and I’ve never looked back since.

You write books for kids and plays for adults. What’s a common thread that you bring to all your storytelling.

Growing up as the only Chinese kid at school, I was the target of bullies. So, to protect myself, I developed a biting sense of humour that I used to deflect the attention from me to my funny comments. This self-defence mechanism evolved into my writing voice. You can find humour in pretty much everything I write, whether it be self-deprecating character comedy or political satire.

Tell us about the role that funding and awards have played in your career. What doors do they open for artists?

Every artist needs time to develop our work, but it’s hard to find that time when we have to pay the electricity bills. Funding and awards buy us the time to devote our energy to the projects we create. I’m grateful for the time agencies like the Edmonton Arts Council have given me. Without their funding on several of my projects, my manuscripts would be sitting on a dusty shelf, waiting for someday when I had the time to work on them.

A lot of children (and adults) look up to you. Who did you look up to as a child?

I struggled as a reader early on in my life because neither of my parents had the skill or time to instill in me a love of reading. However, my school librarian took the time to get me hooked on reading Hardy Boys novels, and my language arts teacher inspired me to pursue writing as a career. These two people were instrumental in shaping me into who I am today.

What do you hope young readers take away from your work?

My greatest hope whenever I write a book for kids is that they see themselves in the stories, which is one of the main reasons a lot of my books feature East Asian characters as the main characters. Growing up, I rarely saw a person of colour in a lead role in a show or as a hero in a novel. So I’m doing my small part to add to the canon of literature so that I can represent all readers, regardless of their cultural background. When kids can see themselves in a book they love, then they feel like they belong to this world.

Tell us a little about what you’re currently working on.

I have a few projects on the go right now. One is a kids’ book about a girl who can move objects with her mind. She has to hide from a scientist intent on using her for human experiments. The book is currently called Willpower. The other project that I’m working on is a short film for Concrete Theatre. Beneath the Mask is a satire of horror movie tropes that skewers the roots of pandemic racism.

When you were a kid, what’s something an adult told you that they were right about? What’s something they were wrong about?

When I was a kid, a junior high teacher told me that everyone is capable of greatness, but only if we work for it. She was both right and wrong. She was right about the importance of putting the work in, but I think she was wrong about greatness. If greatness is measured by how other people see us, we’ll never be great enough; but if greatness is measured by our personal satisfaction, the smallest victories can become the biggest moments in our lives.

Describe your perfect day in Edmonton. How do you spend it?

My perfect day in Edmonton starts with a walk through the river valley, followed by a few hours of writing. It would end with a visit to a local restaurant to try a new dish and an old favourite dish, in case I don’t like the new one.

What makes you hopeful these days?

People who are willing to listen make me hopeful. I know that during the pandemic, we’ve seen more instances where people do more yelling than listening, but if we take the time to find the people who are genuinely open-minded and willing to hear both sides of an argument, we just might see progress as a society.

You visit Edmonton 20 years from now. What do you hope has changed? What do you hope has stayed the same?

First, I hope that I don’t have to visit Edmonton 20 years from now because the city will still be my home. Second, I hope that Edmonton will be a destination for people who love arts and culture. If we could be the Chicago of Canada with talented people creating unique works of art and literature, I’d love to be one of those old men sitting on the porch of a retirement home and saying, “I was there when I saw the city’s potential for greatness, and I saw the community put in the work to achieve this potential.”

Want more YEG Arts Stories? We’ll be sharing them here all year and on social media using the hashtag #IamYegArts. Follow along! Click here to learn more about Mary Chan, his books, events, tips for writers, and more.

About Marty Chan

Marty Chan writes books for kids, plays for adults, and tweets for fun. In theatre, he’s best known for his plays Mom, Dad, I’m Living with a White Girl and The Bone House. In fiction, kids have loved his Marty Chan Mystery series. From 1994 to 2000, he penned the Dim Sum Diaries humour commentaries for CBC Radio. He continues to work and live in Edmonton with his wife, Michelle, and their cat, Buddy.

#yegarts #yeg #edmonton #edmontonarts #IamYegArts #yegWrites

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wonderrdies · 5 years ago

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if love be rough with you - pt.1 (pypfc)

In which you and Harry are professors at a prestigious Art and Language university but can’t stand each other. Well, you can’t stand him.

disclaimer: I fucked up and won’t finish the thing in time for the pick your poison fic challenge (thank you and I’m sorry to @for-fucks-sake-h @oh-honey-styles @andwhenshesays) so I’ll split it into two parts. Once I post the second one, I’ll link it down here.

warnings: so far, so good. there’s gonna be fucking in the next one, though.

word-count: about 4,000 words

If love be rough with you, be rough with love.

Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down.

(Romeo and Juliet, Shakespeare)

Your copy of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet fell to the wooden floor of classroom 103 with a dull thud. It was not your favorite play by any means, but teachers didn’t get much of a choice when it came to the syllabus at Markham. Art and Language students there had been learning the same things for generations, walking through ancient hallways with the pretentiousness of people who know they’re special because of more than just daddy’s money.

Daddy’s money was still a big part of it, though. The fact you didn’t have it made it very obvious that, despite your mid-20s looking face, you were staff and not a student. Which, you said to yourself back when you started teaching at Markham, was fine. You made a mantra out of it in the beginning: It’s fine. I’m fine. When older professors and students didn’t take you seriously, when you were lonely, when the stone walls made you feel claustrophobia instead of wonder, when you had to begin working with Drama students instead of sticking to your comfort-zone in the Literature department. It’s fine. I’m fine. Three years later, it was true; you fit right in. You had learned to focus solely on the bright side of the school and the role you had to play, dressing and speaking and teaching like the classy and stone-faced intellectual you always wanted to be. With all your weaknesses safely tucked away, you felt like you probably were a better actress than most of your students.

Considering you were 20 minutes ahead of schedule and no one was ever this early for class, bending over in your pencil skirt to pick Romeo and Juliet up didn’t seem like a big deal. Until you heard the whistling.

“All this for me?”

You took your time standing up, resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

“Don’t be gross,” you laid the book back on your desk, crossing your arms as you stared at the man by the door. “Professor Styles.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he flashed you a dry smile, but his green eyes showed amusement. “Darling.”

The eye-roll couldn’t be held back any longer. “Piss off.”

No need to say you weren’t a classy and stone-faced intellectual when it came to Harry Styles.

“Can’t piss off from my own classroom, can I?”

Seemingly not minding your frown, he walked into the room holding a worn leather case for what you could guess was an acoustic guitar. If he weren’t dressed in his usual expensive and obnoxious clothes, you’d be able to mistake him for a very handsome hobo.

“No, but you can piss off from mine,” you pointed to the metal numbers on the door. “We’re in 103, Styles. I have it for the next three hours.”

“Funny,” he said before laying his guitar on the desk. It pushed your book away until you had to grab it so it wouldn’t, once again, fall to the ground. “Because my schedule says that I have it for the next three hours.”

“Indeed,” Romeo and Juliet falls on leather harshly, the sound pretty similar to the one it made while hitting the floor. “Hilarious.”

The rumbling of what could only be a herd of students began before Harry could come up with any clever remarks, making his head turn to the door expectantly. His pearl necklace accompanied his movement, and you tried not to stare too hard at the expanse of his neck or imagine what it would look like with a couple of bruises under those pearls.

You snapped out of whatever that thought was before there was any need to overthink it. Over your colleague’s shoulder, you could see students, not all of them yours, entering the room. If it wasn’t clear before that there had been a mistake, it was now; Drama and Music students looked at each other suspiciously, whispering to their classmates like they were in primary school instead of university.

“Professor?” someone called. Both you and Harry turned to the desks arranged in a circle, all of them occupied. One of his students, standing on the corner, moved uncomfortably under your glare before speaking again: “Where should we seat? Is this a joint lesson or something?”

A joint lesson? You cringed at the idea. “No,” you said harshly. “There’s been a misunderstanding.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, his voice breezy when compared to yours. “We’ll sort it out, guys. Give us a few minutes.”

He made the two of you sound like a team, which was outrageous. The collar of your sleeveless turtleneck was, all of a sudden, way too tight.

“You look constipated,” he muttered under his breath so only you could hear him. “Let’s go outside.”

“What for?” But you were already following him to the hallway. “Look, just get another classroom.”

“Why don’t you, if it’s that simple?” Harry asked while you closed the door behind you.

“Because it’s a good classroom, the best in the building!”

“Is this how you plan on making me give it up?” He raised an eyebrow, leaning on the stone wall like he didn’t have a care in the world. He probably didn’t.

“Harry,” you sighed. Your hand went to the tiny gold cross in your neck, nervously messing with it. You knew you were about to start pacing like a madwoman. “You could play that guitar anywhere on campus. Just let me have the damn room, alright?”

“Do you think that’s all my lessons are?” He sounded upset.

A brief moment of guilt didn’t stop you from snapping at him. “Do you think I care?”

“No, I don’t,” Even though his voice remained calm, Harry straightened up. “I would never have such high expectations for you, darling.”

You looked at him with a blank stare. Those green eyes without a hint of malice, the soft brown curls of his hair, the delicate pearls over a pastel blue sweater that had a fucking baby chick on it; seeing him, it was hard to believe he could be mean enough to hurt you. But he had, so you went with the most mature and eloquent answer you could muster: “Whatever,” mumbled under your breath.

Harry sighed and rolled his eyes. “Let’s just go to the administration and get this shit over with.”

His tone, finally bordering on annoyed, gave you some satisfaction. Maybe you two had more in common than you thought.

—

Things between you and Harry hadn’t always been this hard. Back in university, among mutual friends and copious amounts of alcohol, he had been nicer. So had you. But Markham made the differences that seemed meaningless at 19 years old feel like deal breakers for any sort of healthy work relationship; his laid backness, so charming all those years ago, drove you insane now. He was a brilliant musician, of course, but was that really all it took? While you searched for the perfect balance between serious faculty member, approachable but slightly intimidating mentor, cultured academic, reliable friend and well-rounded human being, Harry simply seemed to always be a little late for everything that didn’t involve robbing you of your preferred classroom. Also, he flirted way too much, dressed like a sexy grandmother and never submitted grades when he was supposed to.

“Hey,” he said, then called your name softly. “I think that’s enough.”

For a second, you thought he meant enough reasons to dislike him. Then you looked down at your overflowing cup of water and the puddle forming on the teacher’s lounge counter.

“Fuck,” you hissed, putting the glass jar back in its place.

“That sounds familiar,” Harry sipped his coffee like he hadn’t just said that in a room filled with ancient Markham professors.

You were torn between giving him a death glare or ignoring him altogether, so you just settled for a death glare directed at no one in particular while you wiped your wet hand on the side of your black skirt.

“Professors,” greeted one of the Plastic Arts teachers, a sweet-looking old lady. She walked up to the counter so she could pour her coffee, standing between you and Harry in the process. “I take it the 103 debacle hasn’t gone smoothly.”

“Yeah, Mrs. Thomas,” Harry said, a playful smile suddenly on his lips. “Someone here doesn’t know when to give up.”

“Don’t talk about yourself in the third person, Professor Styles. It’s not cute.”

Mrs. Thomas laughed like the two of you were performing a stand-up comedy show. “God, you two are adorable.”

You frowned while she walked away, and even though Harry’s smile stayed plastered on his face, you could see the furrow between his brows. “Adorable?” he asked, voice low. “You?”

“Piss off,” you said for the second time that day.

The 103 debacle, as your elder colleague so eloquently put, hadn’t gone smoothly. At all. Administration admitted to making a mistake and offered, oh so kindly, to relocate one of you to an empty classroom upstairs. Both Harry and you just stood there, looking at each other as if saying “Well, there you go” and waiting for the other to eagerly take room 214. Dark, humid, cold and small 214. After a couple of minutes of painfully awkward silence, the secretary responsible for room assignment suggested a sort of alternation: since the conflicting lessons were taught twice a week, Harry could get 103 on Mondays and you could have it on Thursdays. Neither of you liked the idea, but no amount of “But Sophie…” would change her mind once she came up with a supposedly perfect solution.

“She’s only saying that because she hasn’t seen your eye twitching while you try to refrain from having a mental breakdown over a classroom,” he said, ignoring the fact you had just told him off. Harry leaned in, annoying smirk on his lips, so only you would hear him when he said: “You can be adorable when you’re whining for more, though.”

He was too close, and you could smell the cologne on the collar of the shirt he wore under his sweater. It was vanilla, sweet and strong like he had been before he turned out to be the kind of guy who insulted you and bragged about having fucked you, all in the same breath.

“Classy, Styles,” you drank the rest of your water in one gulp so you could get rid of the cup and put some distance between the two of you. He just smelled too good. “You shouldn’t be so quick to make fun of my eye twitch, though. I wasn’t the one using “the humidity in 214 is bad for my hair” as an argument.”

“I hate that room,” Harry muttered as you walked away.

Well, that made two of you.

—

“So here’s what we’re going to do,” you announced to your students. Sunshine flooded the room, casting light on their focused expressions. “You’re going to go through act one again and select a snippet of text so that we can discuss it, and you have to make it so your point —” A determined knock on the door interrupted you. Before you could say anything at all, about a dozen people entered room 103 as if it were expected from them to do so. Strangely, it took you a second too long to realize where you knew most of those faces from: three days ago, they were among your own students as they waited for their professor. One by one, they sat in rows on the floor just like they would in actual desks. None of them made a sound. “Make it so your point about the chosen quote is character-driven,” you continued, choosing to simply not acknowledge any disturbance for a moment.

Still, there were twelve too many sets of eyes looking up at you. It was unsettling. For the next few minutes, there was a silent agreement between you and the Drama students; the lesson proceeded as they exchanged puzzled looks while pretending to skim the first act of Romeo and Juliet and you anxiously played with your cross necklace. What kind of sick mind game was Harry trying to play here? You wish you knew what reaction he was expecting, only so you could deliver the exact opposite of it.

“You have ten more minutes,” you said, reminding your students. A few of them nodded as they took notes, but the people sitting on the floor remained quiet and still, eyes on you. “What do you want?” you blurted out.

“What do you mean?” a girl asked, and you could tell they were expecting you to continue pretending they weren’t there until the lesson was over. Bingo.

“I mean, what is your goal? Did your professor send you here just to spite me? Is he wasting your time as well as mine? Or are you supposed to learn something by attending my class without my previous consent?”

By then, your own students had dropped their books and were waiting for one of the Music kids to speak up.

“Today’s lesson is about civil disobedience and other forms of rebellion and how they relate to the cultural and/or artistic aspects of music,” the same girl said. You couldn’t help but admire the way she took the lead, just as you couldn’t help but question Harry’s methodology.

“What’s your name?”

“Kate.”

“Kate, don’t you think this exercise fails to convey the gravity of civil disobedience? The environment seems a little low-stakes, to be honest.”

“Having low stakes is what makes it an experiment, though,” someone else muttered from behind Kate.

“You can speak up”, you said. “And yes, it’s an experiment, but it still feels too far-fetched, not even close to a parallel. Once you’re done with the lesson, you should let me know how Professor Styles managed to turn this into a Thoreau analogy. Maybe he should have just taught you how to play Another Brick In The Wall and called it a day.”

Some of the Drama students snickered from their desks, but Harry’s class didn’t seem to find you amusing at all. Oh, well. You couldn’t please everyone.

“Since you’re already here, you’re going to learn something. It’s unrelated to civil disobedience but that’s not really my fault, is it? Find a partner that’s actually enrolled in the class about narrative elements in Drama; work on the passage together, from a character-focused perspective, and see if you can relate any of it to your knowledge about art and culture in general. I’m certain someone has taught you about that, even if Professor Styles couldn’t.”

There was a beat of silence, all twenty-four of them staring at you hesitantly.

“Well? Get to work.”

And so they did.

—

You zipped up your bag, mind already drifting to the bottle of wine and comfortable blankets waiting for you back home, when someone’s knuckles tapped the door to the classroom. It was neither 103, with its smooth stone walls onto which you could project any material necessary with perfect lighting, or 214, with its moldy smell, but a perfectly decent middle-ground. You had just taught your last lesson of the first week of the semester to a group of eager Literature first-years and even though you were much better at it now than when you first began, it wasn’t an easy job by any means. Shoulders aching with tension, you turned to the door.

“No,” you said before Madeline could utter a single word. She was your sweetest colleague, and also technically your boss. Madeline was the head of the Literature department and the person who recommended you to the head of Drama when they needed someone to teach a couple of classes on the narrative aspects of plays the students would later perform. Even when you hesitated to take the job and said you weren’t experienced enough to do it, she wouldn’t take no for an answer; Madeline was the closest thing you had to a mother in Markham, always toeing the line between authority and encouragement.

But she would have to take no for an answer now, because you knew that face. And contrary to her motherly status, she wanted you to go out for happy hour. “Just one drink,” she didn’t even bother denying it. “Everyone’s coming.”

“Everyone who?”

“Everyone!”

Everyone almost certainly didn’t involve faculty over 65, so that left you with less than ten people total. You decided not to bring it up since Madeline could get sensitive about age talk. She was 58 and absolutely outraged by people over 60 that started “acting like they had already dropped dead”. Her words.

“Professor Styles will be there,” and then she wiggled her eyebrows. Oh my God.

“What is that supposed to mean?” you said, offended, grabbing your purse. You turned off the lights and closed the door, all while she played dumb.

“Nothing, really,” Madeline said with a shrug. “Thought it might be nice to hang out with a fellow young intellectual, ‘s all.”

“Oh, spare me.”

“You could also figure your shit out before HR needs to get involved,” she paused to see your reaction. There was none. “Just a thought.”

“HR? Are you for real?”

“No,” she said, honestly. “But the two of you can’t keep this up forever, honey. It’s entertaining to watch, but it looks exhausting. You should put an end to whatever this is, if only so you can have a little more peace of mind. You’re both smart people trying to get their job done, that’s all.”

You didn’t say a word. You didn’t want to fight Madeline on this. Harry was… complicated. You hadn’t seen him at all since yesterday’s class and even though you were proud of how you handled the situation at first, you couldn’t help but second guess every move you made while his students were in your classroom. Maybe you should have just made them leave. Maybe you shouldn’t have questioned Harry’s authority so explicitly by saying it was a bad exercise.Maybe you should have just pretended they weren’t there at all. Maybe you should have walked up to Harry himself and thrown a fit because he disturbed your lesson.

But there was no use dwelling on what should have been. In the end, the lesson was actually productive. Fun, if you might say so yourself. His students proved themselves to be very reasonable people, and the contrast between their perspectives as musicians and those of your students, as actors or future playwrights, contributed to multiple interesting discussions.

“Just one drink,” you found yourself saying to Madeline, not that it mattered. You were already walking together towards the parking lot, where her car was, instead of your usual route.

“That’s my girl.”

You rolled your eyes as you walked by her side, your black heels making it hard for you to walk on the gravel of the parking lot. The uncomfortable shoes, unfortunately, played a big part in your whole “fake it ‘till you make it” brand of confidence.

—

The whole table shifted as you and Madeline walked into the pub. You could see Harry from the corner of your eye, fuzzy cream sweater and lilac pants, the shadow of laughter still on his lips from whatever joke was being told before you walked in.

Two more chairs were placed at random spots, and before you could say anything you were squeezed in between Harry and another professor from the Music department, with Madeline four seats away. This had been a terrible idea. Your thighs were pressed together, the rough fabric of his pants rubbing against your skin; there was no move you could make without somehow touching him.

“Hey,” Harry said quietly, turning to you. You could feel his warm breath on your cheek. “Did you have a nice class yesterday?”

Despite all the imaginary fights you had with him on the last 30 hours, you smiled. Harry Styles had some nerve. “Which one? I teach a few classes everyday, Professor.”

He laughed under his breath even though you both knew you weren’t a particularly funny person. “You know what? You are adorable.”

You could feel your cheeks flaming instantly. He rendered you speechless for a couple seconds, each one making his smirk grow. You licked your lips and then, with less confidence than you’d like, you said: “I know. Still not as adorable as your little backfiring prank, though.”

“First of all,” he started, still with that damn smirk. “It wasn’t a prank, it was an exercise.”

You raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“It was! And it absolutely did not backfire. Shouldn’t you know what backfiring means? Aren’t you a book expert or whatever?”

“Very cute, Styles.”

He murmured a ‘thank you’, choosing to ignore your dripping sarcasm. It drove you crazy.

Someone cleared their throat, and you realized as soon as you looked up that the whole table was waiting for your order and most definitely paying attention to yours and Harry’s conversation. Your face burned even hotter while you stuttered out the name of your cocktail.

Your first cocktail, that is. As a storm started outside, one drink turned into two, then three.

“I should get going,” Madeline said at some point, half the table already gone. Even with all the extra space, you and Harry had shown no intention of moving. “Do you need a ride, honey?”

You thought of your empty kitchenette, a few miles south of Markham, and all the time it would take her to drive you home and back to her house, and her family, under such a downpour. A quick “No, thank you” and she was gone. You turned to the nearest window, your arm brushing Harry’s in the process, to watch the storm outside and figure out if the weather would make it impossible for you to leave, which meant you had made a terrible decision by declining the ride. Sure enough, it was pitch black and the rain was as violent as ever. Oh, well.

“You have goosebumps.”

“Huh?”

“You have goosebumps,” Harry repeated himself, laughing a little. As opposed to you, he hadn’t had a single drink to slow his thinking. “Are you cold?”

“Yeah,” but you weren’t. Through your protests, he took the beige coat hanging on his chair and draped it across your shoulders. Once you shivered at the touch of his fingertips, there was no lying anymore.

Harry raised an eyebrow, and you didn’t know what was more infuriating: his smirk, the amazing smell on his absurdly fashionable coat or your uncalled-for horniness, so you decided to ignore all of them. “There’s really no need, Styles,” you said quietly, already reaching to give him back his coat. “I need to get home.”

“You’re drunk.”

“I’m not driving.”

“Well,” he scoffed. “Obviously.”

You furrowed your brows, suddenly very glad you couldn’t see the drunk pout that had just formed in your lips. “Bye, then.”

He grabbed your hand before you could take off his jacket. “No. Let me take you.”

“No fucking way,” you protested. Realizing the three or four remaining coworkers at the table were paying attention to your conversation, you continued much more calmly: “Thank you, though.”

“Come on, Professor,” he teased. “I owe you this one, I guess.”

The gin made him sound so reasonable. He did owe you one, for being such a jerk at all times through the don’t-give-a-shit attitude and how he often brought up that stupid fucking night. Not to mention the 103 debacle and the disruptive prank. He owed you many, actually.

“I guess?” It sounded more aggressive in your head, but that would do.

So you both said your goodbyes and left, his expensive coat hanging off your back while you walked to his expensive car, as if whatever was his were meant to be shared with you simply because you looked good in it.

part 2 !

#pick your poison fic challenge #for-fucks-sake-h #oh-honey-styles #andwhenshesays #pypfc #mine #harry styles #harry styles fic #enemies to lovers

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