How to distract Vincenzo 101

Where is the tender softboi f. Scott Fitzgerald and macho Earnest Hemingway fanfiction we all deserve

‘mom, I punched someone today. am I like dad? I really hate it’ 

starter for @solisocasum​

     “You scratched me!”, Junseo screeches. He moves in a theatrical display of the unbearable pain caused by the other. When they step closer, he rips away from them, throwing his arms out as to say to the world ‘I’m here, I’m hurt, and this motherfucker did it.’ “Do I look like I sell that kind of shit?! I’m a good citizen of this country. I pay taxes. My father --” He stops himself at the mention of his father and dodges another attempt to be silenced. 

His finger now points to the faint red line trailing down his cheek. “I’ll have you pay for this.” As usual, Junseo is half serious, accompanying his words with a wide grin.

starter for @manticxre​

     The smoke burns through his lungs. He exhales the smoke into the room, and remembers how in his early days of smoking, he would have fallen into a coughing fit by now. Haneul is uncomfortable to be in this room. The air is thick with the smell of human negligance. Objects lay scattered around, dirty laundry crunched on the floor, plates and pots stacked on tables and windowsils. He presses his cigarette into the dried pool of oil in a pan.

“What did she steal from you again?”, he asks, not particularily looking at anything again. The detail of the scene leaves him nauseated, but he is a little drunk, and a little careless too.

heyyyy gîrls gays and theys. I’ve been a little absent lately both on tumblr and on discord. But I love you all and I’ll try to get some stuff done!!

What’s with your clothes? It’s as if you live in the ‘80s Koreatown. I disguised myself in case someone recognized me on the way here.

“I was young here. Riding the subway with my small book as though to defend myself against the same world: you are not alone, the poem said, in the dark tunnel.”

“But most of all, I like to watch people. Sometimes I ride the subway all day and look at them and listen to them. I just want to figure out who they are and what they want and where they are going.”

Anne Bentley / Louise Glück, October / Jack Anderson, A Poet's Guide to the Subway / Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451 / Holly Warburton

      There is no such thing as coincidence in the world of Lee Kangdae. There are - however - carefully and fortunately crafted series of events that all lead to the crucial, the collide of opposites, of day and night, moon and sun, and them, foes not by birth but by choice. And now all of their decisions have lead both to the same place: in the theater, in a balcony, overseeing the entire stage. The orchestra fumes into climax, applause errupts and fades into the break.

Kangdae who thinks himself rather an exceptional young man, in the fuss of the break time, turns around to his company, his elbow now placed leisurely on the backlean of the other’s chair. “It doesn’t matter whether he trusts you”, he begins, his lips drawn into a smug smile. “I keep work-talk for work-time.” It sounds like an excuse, but what Kangdae really means is, you don’t know how to play this game yet. He watches the other adjust his jacket and finds his assumption confirmed. He seems a little over-enthusiastic in the way he speaks, jumps from extremes far too much for Kangdae‘s taste. “From the sound of it, he’s right in not trusting you.”

Kangdae excuses himself for another drink and beckons the other to follow. Once in the mainhall, he takes course for the bar and stops there, knowing the other has followed him. He doesn’t have to give an order at the bar, having frequented the theatre on many occasions that some of the staff even recognised him on a personal level - on top of the fact that he is a well known name mingling among the rich. 

The bartender pours two glasses this time, understanding the cue to include the company. “Your father is insufferable. But that doesn’t mean you should talk about him like that.” There is a hint of authoritarian sternness in his voice, but it is overplayed quickly by the charming demeanor he projects to the forefront. “But tell me more about yourself. You’ve grown a lot since the last time I saw you. I didn’t know you were a lover of the arts.”

@illvsia, cast : kangdae ft. dohyun ›

well,  when  was  the  last  time  he  has  been  at  a  loss  of  words?  even  in  his  sleep  dohyun  is  known  to  mumble  his  dreams  or  whatever  is  crossing  his  mind  in  this  moment.  for  awhile  it’s  been  him  against  the  world  ─  or  maybe  not  as  dramatic,  only  the  company  he  used  to  work  for  and  their  enemies,  one  of  which  is  currently  sitting  merely  a  few  inches  away  from  him.

he  might  have  looked  at  a  couple  files  of  former  employees  and  he  might  have  picked  this  guy  …  not  so  randomly.  there  has  been  something  about  his  story  that  reminded  dohyun  in  some  aspects  of  his  own  situation.  he  has  taken  the  file  with  him,  just  so  to  do  another  victim  a  favour.  it  seems  as  if  his  father  still  observes  a  couple  of  his  ex-employees.  the  papers  are  now  on  the  table  in  between  them.

of  course,  the  other  remains  sceptical  about  dohyun’s  true  intentions.  ❛ if  you  believe  my  father  trusts  me  with  a  task  such  as  fooling  one  of  his  biggest  threats,  an  uncomfortably  attractive  one  at  that,  you  think  of  me  way  more  highly  than  he  ever  could. ❜  dohyun  adjusts  his  coat,  feeling  the  small  weight  of  an  important  device  in  his  pocket.  its  existence  unknown  to  anyone  else  so  far.  ❛ i’m  sick  of  this  old  prick. ❜

👹

these fits though 😎

one-liner for @jeoseungsaja​

      “I don’t keep company anymore. It gets lonely -- age.”

one-liner for @erstwhles​

       “I saw the pigs and just legged it -- old habit I reckon.”

one-liner for @cvvalier​

      “I didn’t drink that much”, he whines, face flushed. “I need to just... drive home.”

Mahmoud Darwish, from Memory for Forgetfulness: August, Beirut, 1982 (tr. Ibrahim Muhawi)

one-liner for @halbermenschen​

      “Quite frankly, dear, I do not know if I should help you with this.”

one-liner for @mythvoiced​

      “Are you crazy? Take that dirty shirt away, you’ll infect your wound.”