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#BIG MAN BIG FAN!!! love his role as like the straight man in deep cut and also big betrayal slaps

pigdemonart · 1 year

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Battle Subway Depot Agents (by pig-demon)

When I made designs for these guys last year I didn’t really think they needed colored references/master post, but since then I’ve drawn them a lot! Also people have added them to their fanfics and drawn fanart! So I figured it was time I made a post for easy ref. :]

These designs are obviously free to use, just give credit (and link me your work if you're comfortable, because it makes me happy to see!) All I request is to stay respectful to their pronouns and skin colors, ya knooow… 👍 note: The pokemon on their cards are all companions, not the ones they use on the Battle Subway. Except Jackie...the litwicks are just there to fill space/give them company.

More info under cut:

Edit: Important disclaimer:

These are again my designs/interpretations for the agents. Please don’t treat them as canon or as the only, quintessential designs for these literal background npcs. Many people have done takes on them before and after me, even back in 2010. It feels silly to ask, but due to past experience, I ask that you please DONT hunt down anyone that does a different take on the depot agents!! 👍

Tags:

I'm gonna start tagging them individually, but for now all Depot Agent comics and art on this blog are tagged under Depot Agents.

Height chart:

I’m not too strict about heights, so I don’t really care about actual measurements. Here’s an approximation of what I tend to visualize though:

Sexualities/Gender Identities: I don't have official labels for each and every agent because I like keeping things fluid for characters to develop these traits on their own. However, as a queer person, I enjoy designing characters who are also queer, therefore I can safely say none of these characters are straight. The ones who are set in stone are Ramses (gay man), Cloud (lesbian woman,) Jackie (non-binary.) Furze uses he/they pronouns but their gender is undetermined. I also welcome anyone giving the agents a different gender identity to suit them (as long as it's done respectfully.)

Notes about each agent...

Cameron:

- Cameron dyes parts of his hair blonde and keeps other parts in black. This is because he is a big fan of Elesa and her fashion choices. - Though there have been a few occasions to meet his idol, he is always way too nervous to approach her, feeling deep down that he'll mess up somehow. - He practices modeling poses in secret. He loves flourishes and flare, but is simply too insecure to put it on display. - Of his coworkers, he gets along the best with Furze. He's the easiest to talk to because Furze will do most of the talking. - Cameron is easily intimidated — even mean Pokémon can make him nervous. Though, his two worst fears are being left in a room alone with Jackie, and being left alone in a room with Isadore. - He takes advantage of his height to sometimes hide behind some of his coworkers. - Cameron is much better at Pokémon battles than he gives himself credit for. Emmet and Ingo were pleasantly surprised by this, since Cameron was promoted to fit a temporary role on the Battle Subway. They happily made him a permanent member when he proved himself capable. - His Dwebble (Pebby) is secretly very strong, and rushes to protect Cameron when it can. Cam sometimes thinks Pebby helps him feel more confident in himself too. - If he stumbled into any of his coworkers outside of work, he would simply explode of embarrassment. - He is the youngest child and only son of his family. He lives in his own apartment in Nimbasa.

Cloud:

- Cloud (like Ramses) knew the twins when they were very young. - She used to be an ace trainer in her youth, even going so far to compete in the Pokémon league. Winning and becoming the champ was the most important part of her journey, but something happened along the way that changed that outlook. - It seems with age, her competitiveness has mellowed out. However, she maintains an intense energy when battling. - Her favorite types are Psychic and Flying types. Swoobat (Sweetie) is her ace. - Her favorite hobby is baking, and she often bakes sweets for the crew. She knows all their favorite flavors by now! - She prioritizes keeping a friendly relationship with all her coworkers and thinks of them fondly. She considers Ramses family after all the years of working together! - She is a big fan of Brycen's movies and can recite the lines. - She lives with her wife in Anville. - Cloud loves doing maintenance work both at home and in Gear Station. She enjoys bringing her own tools and industrial flashlight.

Furze:

- Furze only has one volume setting (mid loud,) but he finds himself feeling right at home when talking to either one of the twins. - Furze has ADHD, and this is reflected in some of his habits, most visibly is his fidgeting when sitting still for too long. - He rides a bike to work every day. When he is late, Cloud clocks in for him so he doesn't get in trouble. - This is a kind of a guy that sits crouched gargoyle style on chairs. Only outside of work, of course. Bad posture could get him in trouble. - While working on the Battle Subway, there will be times Furze feels sorry for his opponents and offers to quietly let them pass anyways. This...has also gotten him in trouble. :[ - He went to the same elementary school as Isadore in Castelia. Though Isadore seems to have forgotten their short-lived acquaintance, Furze has not. This is part of the reason Furze claims they are in fact good friends!!! - Furze is the middle child of a big family. He lives with his mom and takes care of her, along with his many Darumakas and Darmanitan. All of his Pokemon have famous trains names. - He collects model trains. Naturally.

Isadore

- Isadore had plans to become the station master the moment he was hired as a depot agent, but alas... (sad trumpet sound.) - As a youth, he was more interested in science and engineering over Pokemon battles. He enjoys the strategizing aspect, at most. Not so much the competitiveness. - In addition, his Pokemon are all rescues and not used for battling. He's had his Watchog (Winston) since he was in his late teens. - His Electrode (Gregor) and Voltorb (Leonard) were rescued from the likes of Team Plasma. - Isadore admits he understands Pokemon better than humans. This has been apparent his whole life. - In spite of acting like a sitcom villain, Isadore cares about the management of Gear Station and the safety of the passengers to an incredible degree. He sees it as a personal life goal to assist in the management of Gear Station, as well as the success of the Battle Subway. - Though it pained him to become a subordinate to the twins, he begrudgingly accepts it for the greater good. - His almost militant efficiency certainly made up for his years of antagonizing the twins before they became the bosses. Ingo and Emmet understand this better than anyone. - Isadore keeps tabs on all of the staff members. So he very well knows all their birthdays and makes it a point to celebrate it. This is by no means a -happy- or -festive- event. It's just customary. - Like Furze, he was originally from Castelia, but now resides in Nimbasa. Isadore's only family is his mom and she lives in his childhood home with their Stoutland. - Isadore would have probably been voiced by every glasses guy ever J. Michael Tatum had he not already been cast as dear Emmet lmao

Jackie

- Jackie is a mystery and they like keeping it that way. When they talk, it's practically impossible to determine what is a lie or truth, especially if the subject is themselves or their background. - They love scaring Cameron the most and will ask to be paired with him whenever possible. They claim Cameron is their "favorite coworker," while Isadore is the least favorite. - It's plain to see why -- Jackie is the only one that doesn't passively tolerate Isadore's tirades. - Though my comics sometimes may allude to Jackie being a ghost/supernatural, this is not confirmed nor canon. I just personally enjoy toying with the concept. : ) That being said...

- Item #: SCP 7453

- Object Class: Euclid

- Special Containment Procedures: The ████ ██████ is ██████ within ████-██████. - Ingo and Emmet choose to not question anything about Jackie, since it's clear they're one of the more efficient workers. However it can be a safety concern... - Cloud and Ramses have worked with Jackie for a long time, though they've forgotten somehow. They believe Jackie is a new hire since they appear to be young. - Anyone trying to make sense of Jackie's employee records simply can't bring themselves to any conclusions. It's better to ignore the inconsistencies. - Jackie has never been seen to leave Gear Station. Jackie has never been seen in anything but their uniform. Jackie has never been confirmed to eat, drink or blink. Jackie knows your secrets. Jackie thinks it's... amusing.

Ramses

- Ramses sometimes misses having a full head of hair, but he thinks his signs of age make him look distinguished. (he is correct.) - Ramses is sort of the "mom friend," making sure everyone's concerns are heard, as well as trying to keep the peace whenever a conflict might arise. - If another coworker is feeling low, Ramses will try to cheer them up with a lighthearted joke or offer advice if they'd like it. - When the twins were promoted to bosses of the Battle Subway, Ramses cried because he felt so proud. - In most circumstances, he is a very simple and logical man. He is quick to find solutions and tries not to fret over the little stuff. It's not good for his heart after all. - His ace is his Pikachu (Musa,) though the mouse is more of a lap pet now. At home, he also has an Audino (Sara) and a Manectric (Nubi) who keep Ramses' husband company. His Klinklang (Moli) is the only one of his personal pokemon that accompany him to work nowadays. - Ramses considers Cloud family. They are best friends and love having family gatherings outside of work. They also gossip a lot, and don't mind when Jackie decides to join. - Ramses jokes about looking forward to retirement, but really doesn't want to leave until he is physically incapable of working anymore. Gear Station is like a second home to him.

In-Game Quotes

The most important reference of all are their in-game quotes, of course, so I'm adding it to the post. A lot of their personality traits can be extracted and interpreted from these few lines. And I personally love that about Pokemon NPCs -- there's a lot of room to explore and play with. Some appear very obvious. Cameron practically announces that he isn't ready for the battle that's about to ensue and seems genuinely surprised to win. Furze comes out the gate talking about the subject they actually care about, which is their job and their love for trains. The two of them are very easy to understand. Now, Ramses lines allude to a gentle and simple personality. He views himself with humility, and maybe even with a bit of humor comparing himself to a train and to his opponent to a station. If he loses he shows no signs of disappointment, he just accepts defeat with one last honest quip. It s also amusing to see the Depot Agents all use train metaphors to describe themselves since it falls in line with how Ingo and Emmet talk.

In comparison, Cloud does the same thing calling herself the terminal instead. Immediately, she is way more daring, though still keeping a sense of professionalism. To me, it's obvious she is competitive as she even admits she was expecting to win ("Ah...I didn't see it coming.") Jackie's lines are fun since it's up to interpretation if they are being literal or lying. It's almost like they are more interested in confusing/creeping out their opponent than actually beating them. To me, it gives off a mischievous vibe. Isadore's opener "There are only two roads in life." is a curious one because it almost feels like he is trying to be philosophical. Definitely a guy who views himself as an intellectual, regardless if that’s true or not. I like to think it's a saying he really believes in, and it applies to his life. The road he likes (long route) vs the road he hates (shortcut) -- fighting tooth and nail to become boss vs biting his tongue and accepting Ingo and Emmet as the Subway Masters.

Those are just my thoughts on how I write these characters. Please have fun playing with these lines too!

#depot agents #depot agents master post #my art #submas #submas adjacent ahaha #will probably edit as time goes on but who knows really #if you spot any typos no you dont kiss kiss #cameron #cloud #furze #isadore #jackie #ramses

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terminatorbuns · 1 year

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The Deep Cut Deep Dive: Overthinking the Deep Cut Dynamic in Excruciating Detail (An essay by @TerminatorBuns)

This was originally posted on Reddit, but I want to share with Tumblr to see if Tumblr likes this format more. Also because I'm close to finishing a second essay about Deep Cut, focusing on Frye.

Deep Cut is great, I love them, and their relationship dynamic lives rent free in my head. The one thing Nintendo did for us this time is drop story mode lore for Deep Cut on Day 1, and it has fleshed out their relationship dynamic in IMMENSE detail, enough to rival what we know about Off the Hook. How much detail are we talking about, you might ask? A FUCKING LOT it turns out! We're talking about Tableturf secrets, we're talking about Frye's feet, we're talking about the implications of Big Man's breakfast on the course of his artistic development, this shit goes DEEP. I don't know who needs to hear this but Splatoon idol lore is the meatiest part of Splatoon world building and an absolutely BONKERS ride. I want to take you through that journey if you haven't been on it before, or just need more fuel for your lore headcanons.

I wish this was a bit more academic but I didn't have the time and patience to cite everything with game screenshots, so I'm assuming whoever is reading this has already played the story mode and has a rough idea of what I'm talking about. Spoilers obviously. At the very least I hope this will be an entertaining rant, feel free to yell at me in comments about stuff I got wrong, I welcome the discourse.

1. A Bunch of Theatre Nerds

Deep Cut primarily differs from Off the Hook in one way: they do not specialize in music, but in THEATRE. Each of the two humanoid idols are designed from the ground up to represent two different forms of traditional Japanese theatre, and it ties deeply into their dual roles in the game. The important takeaway is that each idol excels in one art, but struggles at the other, and we will explore what this means. Let's talk about Shiver and Frye; Big Man is a special case, we'll have to put a pin in him and come back to that.

2. Shiver is Rakugo

Shiver is a performer of Rakugo, or Japanese seated story telling. Deep Cut's day job as newscasters is represented as a Rakugo performance, and Shiver brings a fan and a little table to the job, both common props in Rakugo. Shiver exhibits all the qualities of a strong Rakugo artist, she sits in a Seiza kneeling position with excellent posture, and delivers the news with wit and poise. She has excellent, sharp facial expressions that she directs straight at the audience, she uses her fan to gesture in ways to attract attention, and she punctuates her delivery by tapping her fan against her table to create little sound cues for a listener. Her approach to drawing an audience to her words is multilayered and complex, and her vocal skills as a storyteller seems to parallel her strong vocals when singing (not that you can tell how good her diction is since she speaks in warbly Squid-Gibberish).

Frye is much less skilled by contrast, for a number of reasons. She doesn't even attempt to sit in a Seiza stance, and in fact can barely sit still without attempting to wiggle off her cushion. From a general speaking perspective, Frye fails to establish eye contact with the audience because she's always staring at the other two performers, whoever is speaking at the time. She also lacks all of Shiver's propwork and has no intentionality in her gestures. She compensates for her weak delivery with goofy, high energy antics that are charming in her own way, and this is what earned Frye a reputation as a fidgety gremlin baby compared to the cool, sophisticated Shiver. Before launch that was everyone's impression of Frye, but the arrival of story mode dropped a massive bomb on us that flips the dynamic COMPLETELY UPSIDE DOWN. Feet are involved, let's discuss.

3. Frye is Kabuki

Story mode showed us Deep Cut as a hilarious team rocket like villain team, but the bigger takeaway is that we finally see Frye in her preferred art form: Kabuki stage performance. Frye's entire villain persona is a stage act, she thrives as a stage villain and has the charisma and skills to back it up. I should note that Frye doesn't practice pure Kabuki with all of its strict discipline, but Frye isn't full, or even partially Japanese herself, since she's very much South East Asian in design. She has her own, maybe(?) SEA inspired take on stage performance, but some of her stances in the later sections of story mode are unmistakably Kabuki, it's clear where she draws inspiration for her style from.

Villain Frye is amazing, she's confident and charismatic, and genuinely menacing in demeanor before her fight. She has a professional code of conduct as a villain: she states her intentions clearly, paying respect to the player before her boss fight and offering to negotiate before fighting. She's the only one who correctly uses her smoke bomb correctly to make a dramatic exit, and she names all of her meticulously choreographed attack patterns like a proper anime villain.

Conversely, story mode is where we finally see Shiver struggle. Her villain performance is fun, yet inconsistent: she's unnecessarily melodramatic and overacts every scene, and she throws petty insults at you before breaking character to just try to run you over with a shark-bike. She fumbles her smoke bomb and becomes increasingly frustrated everytime you knock her down, unlike Frye who doesn't break character and recovers immediately after she is downed. Shiver still makes a fun, campy comedy relief villain, but she visibly loses the confidence and dignity she had as a Rakugo performer, highlighting how much she is out of her element. In Shiver's defense, she does manage to pull off that absurd sleight of hand in her intro where she switches her mask for her fan while delivering the spiciest piercing gaze, while Frye just chucks her mask off screen instead. Once again Shiver's dexterity in her face and her hands are her strongest tools.

4. Frye's feet

I feel like an absolute lunatic writing this section, but I assure you there is genuinely a need to discuss this topic in length. Forget Frye's forehead for a second, her FEET are easily her most important assets. Frye uniquely emotes with her feet more than any other idol the same way Shiver emotes with her hands, except Shiver's hands don't have enough lore significance to fill a whole section. Frye's feet DO. I would go so far as to say Frye's feet are one of the most SIGNIFICANT visual tools we have for contextualizing the difference between Frye and Shiver's entire professional art forms. Strap in.

For starters, Frye's footwork is MONSTROUSLY powerful. Take a look at her during her boss fight, she's playing an instrument, and hopping up and down on an Octostomp like it's a goddamn circus ball. It doesn't take a single eel hit to knock her off balance, you have to send her ENTIRE eel army at her before you can knock her down! I think the eels inside her Octostomp are moving it, so in theory she's not piloting it with pure foot power, but also she kicks it onto its side before she starts blowing into her flute?!! I have no idea, I can barely comprehend what is happening here.

At the same time, her feet fully solidifies her ties to Kabuki. Kabuki is an art form done without shoes, and since she performs her villain persona outdoors, she doesn't wear shoes anywhere. Kabuki is also a full body art form which requires precision footwork, and she has that in spades. This is in stark contrast to Shiver, whose seated Rakugo performance has no footwork whatsoever. Shiver's footwork is comparatively weak as a result.

Don't get me wrong, Shiver has enough footwork to dance in blocky Geisha shoes (I've been told they are Okobo shoes), but it's in a stage performance capacity where Shiver's footwork completely falls apart. Shiver doesn't know how to express body language through footwork, so she DOESN'T. Shiver stands completely in place during her villain performance and tries to compensate with her upper body expressions, but this lets Frye completely dominate her in stage presence. In most scenes with both idols, Frye physically takes up more of the screen through footwork: she positions herself one or more steps TOWARDS the audience and literally looks BIGGER as a result. Frye's full body poses are also wide and faces the audience/camera at an angle that maximizes her surface area to attract visual interest, which is a core Kabuki concept that, again, requires intentional footwork and positioning. Shiver poses with her feet together and her body turned to the side, so her screen presence is minimal every single time. In fact, she uses her feet so little in her villain performance that she's the one member of Deep Cut that fights on a vehicle and has no mobility of her own!

At the same time, Frye's feet are double edged swords and her greatest weaknesses. Take a look at Frye while she is newscasting, what is she doing in her default pose? Yeah that's right, HOLDING HER FEET. Her Kabuki background is so used to full body acting that she's restless sitting still, and she's holding down her feet because they literally want to EXIT THE PREMISES. Every once in a while she fails to contain herself and kicks off in every direction, threatening to kick a hole in Big Man's TV and boot Shiver's table off the stage. Frye's feet are a MENACE.

5. Big Man and Amateurism

Remember at the beginning we put a pin in Big Man? His arms are getting tired so we're letting him down from the wall now.

So how does Big Man fit into this dynamic? Nintendo confirmed that he is their composer, so he provides a music background to the team whereas the other two are theatre nerds. Big Man is unique in that his talents are largely background work, unlike our other two idols who specialize in stage work. However, that makes him a bit of an outlier in terms of theatrical performance. He follows Shiver and Frye around to both their performances but doesn't have much proficiency in either one. As a newscaster he stumbles over his words often, and his villain persona is just his regular persona but slightly angrier. He doesn't really dance and sing particularly well either, there's a sequence in the Anarchy Rainbow choreography where Big Man nearly smacks the other two idols out of clumsiness. Big Man is an odd duck in the Deep Cut trio, and yet, this is a central aspect of his design and his appeal, it's kind of the point.

The central theme of the Deep Cut dynamic is Amateurism, and this ties into Splatoon 3's core theme of Chaos. Each humanoid idol is a master at a specific performance art, and an amateur at the other art form, but the important part is that they show up anyways to clown around, and that in and of itself adds a distinct flavor to the performance despite their individual weaknesses. The chaos of Splatoon 3 is the contrast between a professional artist on a stage next to two absolute goobers, and the chaotic, yet dynamic performance that results from three artists of different skill levels colliding. In that sense, Big Man is the true amateur who shows up to everything in an effort to contribute, and his bumbling inexperience is extremely lovable. This is in direct contrast to the Off the Hook dynamic, as both members of Off the Hook are musically talented and completely aligned in their artistic interests, while the members of Deep Cut have differing interests but will always show up for each other, like absolute BROS.

The Big Man discussion does not end here, however. Big Man's sunken scroll depicts him as a member of the prestigious Manta Clan, with the fanciest dining set while the text describes the Manta Clan's meticulous breakfast habits. Shiver and Frye's sunken scrolls, in contrast, describe the ancient artistic history that both of them descend from. Jumping into story theories at this point, I would personally guess that Big Man comes from a different economic background than the other two. Splatsville appears to have the aesthetics of a rural city after a rapid expansion, many of the buildings are cluttered and old looking in contrast to some infrastructure that looks very new. If we assume that Shiver and Frye's families have lived in this area for quite some time, it would be quite likely that they were poor or middle class, partially explaining their concern for the underprivileged citizens of Splatsville. Big Man on the other hand looks like he comes from the richest, snobbiest kind of high society family. He's a fancy fancy boy.

The more important takeaway is this: Big Man seems to come from a family background that prioritizes formality and rules over personal expression. From this we can make an educated guess that Big Man started his theatrical journey LATER IN LIFE. Shiver and Frye could easily have been practicing stage performance from early childhood through their family history, but Big Man's family traditions doesn't lend itself well to open self expression, and whatever artistic ability he might have gained through his family does not translate well to the stage! Big Man's exposure to theatre would have happened outside of his family, possibly after he gained some amount of independence from them. I'd hazard a guess that his friendship with Frye and Shiver might even be the starting point of his stage career!

Shiver and Frye are letting Big Man, maybe even encouraging him, to perform with them on stage despite him being a relative newcomer to theatre. There's relatively little judgement, they too understand that all artists have been amateurs at some point in their journey, and continue to be amateurs at other art forms even after mastering their own. My boy is doing his absolute best to perform alongside his theatrical seniors and it's so precious. This dynamic is wholesome beyond my wildest expectations, I am HEALED.

6. Tableturf and Artistic Priorities

I added this section last because I only discovered this information after I had completed my original draft, and Nintendo is actively fucking with me at this point. Each of the three idols have personality traits that come through in their TABLETURF dialogue, of all places, and it's kind of the final piece that makes the Deep Cut dynamic click for me. Through their tableturf dialogue we learn a lot about each member's priorities as an artist, enough for us to explore in detail.

Shiver is an audience focused artist. Her focus in tableturf is centered on you, the opponent, and she makes it a matter of personal pride to compete against you and she takes her victories and losses very personally. No matter the outcome she requests a rematch, because her priority is the opponent's experience, as she seeks the approval of her audience. Her eye contact and graceful mannerisms are as sharp as ever up close as she is on stage. This plays well with the second aspect of her artistry, which is the fact that she has a Geisha aesthetic in addition to her Rakugo specialty. Hospitality and direct conversational interactions are a part of both jobs, even if she secretly has a bit of an ego and barely resists gloating if she wins.

Big man is a self-focused artist. He comes off as awkward and shy in a tableturf match, and we get to see a little bit of the bubbling insecurity behind Big Man's jolly smile. Big man's lack of stage performance abilities translates into his social interactions as well, and he uses self deprecation to downplay his abilities and expects to lose, being pleasantly surprised if he wins. What Big Man is primarily looking for is a kind of self-acceptance, as an amateur artist he wants to hone his abilities to a point that he can be confident in himself, and he shows the same anxiety in his social interactions and tableturf games. No matter if he wins or loses, his primary focus is on his own performance, and he mostly comments on whether or not he has met his own expectations. Every small victory seems to do great things for his self esteem and you just want this boy to be happy, let him win at card games.

Frye's tableturf mannerisms is the most interesting, as it turns out, and is actually the reason I even wrote this section (my Frye bias strikes again). The most important detail is that she fails to make eye contact with the player, AGAIN, just like when she's newscasting! At face value this is VERY strange: in the news room she is clearly staring at whoever's talking, but in a direct conversation with you, why does she still not look at you? I've also seen people complaining that she's one of the only players that insults the player after a win and makes no attempt to console the player, and that is completely true. What isn't very obvious is the additional layer of meaning in the same win dialogue that really clarifies her priorities in the moment, and this is a CRUCIAL piece of Frye's characterization. When she wins her first instinct is to tell SHIVER and BIG MAN about her victory.

Remember that Kabuki is a stage performance with multiple artists in multiple roles. Rakugo can be performed solo, and Big Man seems to compose solo as well, but Frye's Kabuki actively requires the participation of other artists, it is a collaborative performancr. This brings us to the realization that Frye is a uniquely TEAM focused artist amongst Deep Cut: her top priority is her bandmates, at all times! Frye NEEDS Deep Cut, her personal style of theatre doesn't even work without friends, and she's fixated on maintaining her friend group as a result. Frye is able to focus on an audience when she is actively doing her job as a Kabuki artist, but any other time she starts spacing out because she simply spends all her energy thinking about ways to impress her bandmates! She comes off as dismissive to the player, because her mind is literally wandering to her band friends, even when they are not around! Deep Cut means the world to Frye in a way that isn't as meaningful for her friends, and she's made herself into the glue that holds this friend group together; Frye is very much the heart of the Deep Cut trio. Frye's dedication to her friends is the actual CUTEST detail in this entire game, I CANNOT believe they hid this information in tableturf. Why is Nintendo like this?!!

7. Conclusion

Splatoon's world building is extremely art centric, and the lore they write for their fictional artists is some of their best, most detailed work. Looking at Splatoon lore through an artistic lens is extremely rewarding because there are secrets and details everywhere. I've obsessed over Off the Hook's similarly complicated character dynamic in the past, and Deep Cut is really making me relive those memories like that dude from Ratatouille, it's hitting me HARD.

In some ways even this write up is only a surface reading, I'm no expert on traditional Japanese theatre or SEA culture and I have no idea how many details can be uncovered by an actual expert. I also have no music background and the Splatoon team hides fricking lore in the fricking OST and I cannot begin to unpack any of that. I fully expect that there's more details I've missed or have gotten wrong, but I hope I've at least established how deep this rabbit hole goes, and how much fun it is to dig through Splatoon lore instead of getting enough sleep.

Anyways the next time someone asks me why Frye is best girl I'm gonna have 3000 words of documentation to show them.

8. Miscellaneous notes

- What is going on with Shiver's shoes, they don't have straps, how do they stay on? Are they glued to her socks? Does she have to take the sock part off to remove the shoe? She has to take her shoes off to perform on a tatami mat, but we can't see what's going on back there feet wise since she has a Rakugo table in front. Is her lower body even rendered back there? I draw fan art, I need to know this stuff.

- Shiver likes to take jabs at Big Man sometimes that he struggles to respond to, being a less experienced conversationalist and just socially awkward in general. It's not necessarily malicious, however, Shiver could just be giving him opportunities to practice his conversation skills and keep him in the discussion. Plus he's very cute when flustered, I dunno that Shiver can resist prodding him.

- Big man is differently abled in a very literal sense. He has no hands or feet with which to emote, he's trying his best to express himself with his flappy fins. He barely has functional vocal cords, just going AY and making warbling fish noises all the time. Big Man's body isn't great at singing or dancing, but it is very good at things that Manta Rays are traditionally good at. He mentions being able to filter feed, and his mobility is remarkably good in swim form. Big Man is also a pretty dangerous predator unless you have the sensor upgrade.

- Shiver's family situation is kind of a mystery, how do they have a tradition of Shark taming if Octarian society is a militaristic dictatorship run by DJ Octavio? I suspect that Shiver was never a part of his army and there are Octarians living outside of his rule. She's definitely a Splatlands native, members of Octavio's Octo Canyon army should have been able to identify Callie and Marie easily.

- Shiver's aesthetic shifts to a violent Bōsōzoku biker gang aesthetic when she boards Master Mega, since he's outfitted with motorcycle parts and wears those bad boy sunglasses. It's a sharp contrast to her polite Geisha presentation, and so is her entire villain persona. This is what I mean when I say Shiver's performance style is inconsistent, but Shiver's two-faced presentation is also super fun to watch and kind of her entire appeal. There's an aggressive pettiness underneath the polite outward presentation and the gap between her two personalities is peak comedy. - I only just recently realized that she's a Geisha with a shaved punk cut and that's amazing: https://www.reddit.com/r/splatoon/comments/xk5mtx/did_yall_notice_shivers_head_is_supposed_to_be/

#splatoon #splatoon 3 #deepcut #shiver #frye #big man #in this essay i will #long post

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plushiehamuko · 1 year

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makoto :3c

OOOOOH MY BELOVED MAKOTOS!!!!! this got long so. under the cut it goes

favorite thing about them - urgh i love so many things about him… i think my favorite quality of makoto is his kindness and general ability to make friendships. in my opinion, he’s kinda the glue that makes the thh cast my overall favorite cast if that makes sense!! that’s why i think he is the best protag overall, in terms of how well he fulfills the role :)

least favorite thing about them - ohhh idk if i have a least favorite… so i will say that i think the way he wears a blazer over a hoodie looks funny. i feel like i overheat just looking at his outfit

favorite line - i’m a big fan of his “You’re so full of… shit!” line and he just hesitates to swear. IT’S VERY SILLAY OF HIM

brOTP - MAKOTO AND TOKO SHOULD BE THE BEST FRIENDS EVER i love their ftes… it makes me happy that he is so patient with her despite the fact that she is. admittedly frustrating to deal with

OTP - i really like both naegiri and naegami!! if i had to choose, i would probs go with naegiri, if only bc it was one of my first danganronpa ships so it feels a bit special for that reason. HOWEVER lurking on makoto tumblr has sold me on naegami even tho i used to be indifferent

nOTP - this might be a bit controversial but i actually don’t really like naekusaba. i admittedly don’t have the context from danganronpa IF that makes this ship super popular, but i’ve seen the rhetoric that people think makoto can “fix” mukuro a lot, and that kind of thing rubs me the wrong way. while the point of a relationship is to support each other and bring out the best in each other, i dislike the idea that makoto is responsible for healing mukuro’s issues when she has deep issues and he already makes himself responsible for others’ issues in a way that is unfair to him enough

random headcanon - hmm… i love makoto and komaru’s sibling dynamic, and one of my favorite naegami hcs is that komaru just makes him WORK for her approval. like she is absolutely not too shy to use the man for his money and makoto tries to stop her but she is relentless

unpopular opinion - not sure if this counts as entirely unpopular, but MAKOTO IS NOT AT ALL BORING. literally his behavior in future arc is the furthest thing from boring - he is straight up making the most UNHINGED and risky decisions and he deserves the acknowledgment that he is the opposite of boring!!!

song i associate with them - oooo i don’t have a specific song association for makoto but high hopes comes to mind since i know that song gets associated with him all the time for obvious reasons lol

favorite picture of them - I SEARCHED SO FAR TO FIND THIS PICTURE FROM WHEN I WAS LOOKING THROUGH THE THH MANGA bc it’s so funny for some reason. he’s such a little guy

#squishy talks too much #THANK YOU FOR THE ASK i don’t talk about makotos enough these days #about makotos <3 #people talk to squishy!!

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jawabear · 3 years

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Assistant to the boss (Marcus Moreno x Reader)

Not my GIF

A/N: Okay. So. This story is Inspired by this post by @dindjarinscape I love it so much. I really enjoyed writing this because it’s Marcus and I love him. I really hope you enjoy the fluffiness. Sorry for any mistakes. Stay safe.

Genre: fluff

Warnings: Fem!reader, mentions of anxiety, just a lot of fluff.

Summary: From friend to boss, her feelings have not changed, but is there any chance he feel the same way?

The coffee machine whirred and rattle as she stood there waiting for it to finish. You would think that working in a place that was such high-tech and with literal super heroes, there would be an easier, quicker, quieter way of making a cup of coffee. She guessed she could’ve done it by hand but she was too far in now to change her mind.

It finally beeped to signal it was done. She moved it from under the machines spout and lifted it into her hands. The bitter smell of it filled her nose making her cringe. She was not a lover of coffee and couldn’t understand why people loved it so much when it smelt and tasted how it did.

She picked up the small pile of files for her boss and tucked them under her arm, hating the fact that the mug was filled right to the very rim with the disgusting drink. Thankfully the walk from the break room to her boss’s office wasn’t all that far, it would be if she had to take the stairs, but thankfully their was an elevator that could bring her almost straight to his office.

(Y/n) kept an eye on the drink as she walked to the elevator making sure not the spill it. People gave her strange looks as they walked past her but she glared right back at them which made them quicken their speed past her. It wasn’t that she was a horrible person or anything. In fact, she was a very sweet and kind person. She was just a little stressed about the damn coffee in her hands.

The elevator dinged when she pressed the button and the door slid open. She quickly stepped inside and pressed the number to the top floor of Heroics Headquarters. She then began to repeatedly push the button to close the door, not really wanting to spend the journey with anyone else in that moment.

Luckily for her, everyone else walked past and the doors closed letting her be alone. (Y/N) let out a sigh and took in a deep breath. She always grew nervous on the journey up to see him. She didn’t really know why. Perhaps she was just an all round nervous person, that wouldn’t be a ridiculous suggestion. She had suffered with anxiety since she was a kid but it was something about this journey in particular that made it worse.

Maybe it was just the coffee.

Or maybe it was the fact she had been crushing on her boss for years. Of course, he wasn’t always her boss. He was her friend before he got promoted. Well, he still was her friend.

After the whole ordeal with the aliens from Ogima and the reveal that Miss Granada was actually one of them left the position for Head of HQ wide open. And who better to fill it, then The leader of the Heroics, Marcus Moreno. (Y/N) was the assistant to Miss Granada and so her position continued on to Marcus as well, not that she was complaining. It meant she got to spend more time with him. Which was also a downfall because she fell further and further for him.

She let out another sigh as she drew nearer and nearer to his floor. She looked down at her self and just hoped she looked presentable. But she knew if she didn’t he wouldn’t really say anything unless it was really bad in which he would kindly tell her. Because he was just the kindest man alive. And he was so kind to her. She wanted to feel special and hope that maybe, just maybe, he liked her back in the same way she liked him. But reality would always hit her that he was just kind to everyone.

The elevator stopped and dinged and the door opened. (Y/N) stepped out and began walking towards his office.

Thankfully the floor wasn’t too busy so she didn’t have to glare at anyone as she slowly walked with the coffee still in had and still completely full but some kind of magic.

His office was completely blacked out on the outside. Aside from the door. That was how she knew he was in there. His door was its normal glass self and she could see through it and saw Marcus working hard at his large black desk. The desk was almost the size of width of his already massive office. He wasn’t really a fan of it to be honest. It was far to big and it was intimidating. And it was lonely. Very lonely.

She watched as he put his pen down and took off his glasses, rubbing his hands over his face as he leant back in his chair. She felt saddened to see him look so worn out but perhaps the coffee would cheer him up. Or she would.

(Y/N) slowly opened the door and he lifted his head to look at her. “(Y/N)!” He said happily as he stood. She gave him a smile as she pushed the door shut with her foot and walked over to his desk.

“I brought you some coffee” she said. Marcus met her half way, clearly noticing the extent to which the mug was filled and he took it from her. Neither party failed to notice the way his fingers grazed against her as he took the mug.

“Oh my God, thank you” he said as he took a large gulp of it.

“Yeah, you looked like you need it” she laughed softly.

“Oh, I really did” he smiled to her “thank you”

“Just doing my job” (Y/N) shrugged. Marcus sped back round to his desk, placing the mug carefully in front of him as he sat back in his chair. She too walked over to his desk and pulled the files out from under her arm “you know I hate to have to do this but...” she slid them towards him “these are for you”

Marcus sighed and nodded “thanks (Y/N)” he said rubbing his face again. “I have not idea how Granada did this” he laughed.

“Because she didn’t do it alone like you do” (Y/N) pointed out. “She had an army of people who did most of them for her, she rarely did any. I was one of them. And I would be more than happy to help you as well. It is my job after all. I am your assistant”

“Yes you are my assistant” he copied the way she drew out her job role. He picked up his glasses and put them back onto his nose. “But you are also my friend. My best friend”

Best friend.

The words cut deep into her heart. He might as well taken one of his katanas that hung proudly on the wall behind him and stabbed it through her heart.

But she smiled anyway. She was happy being his best friend, even if she did want to be something more to him.

“Why should that make a difference, Marcus?” She said “since you’re now the big boss of the Heroics, I am first and foremost your assistant” (Y/N) took the pile of files back as well as half the stack beside him.

“(Y/N)-“ he tried to argue but she made a noise that stopped him “fine” he gave in “but...um...can you sit in here?” He asked shyly “it’s pretty lonely in here...”

She smiled and nodded “of course Marcus” She pulled a chair up to the other side of his desk and grabbed a pen and started working.

There was a comfortable silence over the two of them. The only sounds being the sound of pens against paper and pages being turned. But the silence was soon about to end. Marcus stopped writing for a moment and fiddled with the pen in his hand before speaking.

“(Y/N)” he said quietly as he lifted his head to look at her. But she continued writing only humming in acknowledgement of him saying her name “if...say for example,” he began, his voice filled with worry but he spoke with a nervous laugh “I-I were to...like someone” her hand froze as she slowly lifted her head to look at him, now interested in where he was taking this “h-how would I go about telling someone that?”

She tried not to grow angry at the idea of Marcus liking someone else. Her mind then began flicking through everyone who worked there to see if she could figure out who it was “Uh, I guess it depends on who it is. Because each person would like to get told differently I suppose” she said as she continued to write.

“Well...h-how would you like to be told?” He asked quietly making her pause again but she didn’t look at him this time.

“I-I haven’t really thought about that. No one has ever really liked me...” she admitted “but I guess...I’d just want them to tell me. You know, say something like, ‘(Y/N), I really like you’.”

“(Y/N), I really like you” he repeated.

“Yeah. Something like that” she nodded.

Marcus rested his hand on top of her making her had twitch slightly due to the fact she just wanted to hold it.

“(Y/N)” he said again making her looked up at him. He had soft eyes and gave her a matching smile “I really like you”

(Y/N) was lost for words. She couldn’t really believe what he had said to her. “Wh-What?” She managed to say.

“I really like you” he said again. A third time.

“A-Are you...S-Serious?” She questioned.

He nodded and smiled hopefully but his smile fell and he drew his hand away when he saw the expression on her face “have I made things awkward?” He said “I’ve made things awkward haven’t I? God. I’m so sorry (Y/N). Just...forget I said anything-“

“N-No. Its fine” she said quickly “you just...surprised me is all. Do you actually like me?”

“Yes (Y/N). I actually like you” he confirmed “but I’ve been too scared to tell you because we’re such good friends and I didn’t think you would like me like that. And plus I didn’t know how to tell you and I haven’t been on a date in years so I thought I was a bit out of practice and it’s been eating at me for months now-“

(Y/N) shut him up by leaning over his desk and pressing her lips to his. He was far too shocked at her actions to kiss back but he desperately wanted too. She pulled back and gave him a soft smile, trying her hardest not to laugh at the dumbfounded expression on his stupidly handsome face.

“I really like you too” she said as she sat back in the chair.

“You do?” It was his turn to be the one in disbelief.

“Yes” she nodded with a slight laugh.

“Does...this mean you’re...my girlfriend now?” He asked in a very small voice.

“If you want me to be” she said a little more confidently. Her heart was swelling at the feeling that she was now Marcus Moreno’s girlfriend. She had to try not to start squealing with joy.

“Does..” he began a little more slowly this time, but a little louder. “Does this mean you can also move your desk into here so I can actually talk to someone?”

“I’m sure it could be arrange”

29/12/20

Taglist: @linkpk88

#marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #Marcus moreno fanfic #we can be heroes #fluff #pedro pascal #fanfic

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ordinaryschmuck · 3 years

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What I Thought About "What If...Captain Carter was the First Avenger" from Marvel Studios' What If...

Salutations, random people on the internet who certainly won’t read this! I am an Ordinary Schmuck. I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons.

Back when Marvel Studios announced the new lineup of films and shows, I was admittingly underwhelmed. Nothing we've seen so far has been poorly written, far from it, but during the announcement, nothing really popped out at me as worth getting excited for. That is, except for one series: Marvel Studios' What If... An animated series that changes the canon of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, all through the simple question. The question being, "What if this happened instead of that."

From the get-go, I was sold on this idea. I'm a sucker for hypothetical scenarios, thinking up all the ways of how some of my favorite stories in fiction could be drastically different thanks to one tiny change. Some might call that "Fanfiction the Series," and while you're not wrong, I fail to see how that's a criticism. Because fanfiction can be fun...just as long as you ignore the sick freaks, sure, but it still can be fun! So whether Marvel Studio's What If... is fanfiction or not, it still didn't change how excited I was to watch it. Was it all worth the hype? Well, to answer that question requires spoilers, so keep that in mind as we dive deep into Marvel's most ambitious project yet.

Now, let's review, shall we?

WHAT I LIKED

The Watcher: Gonna get the generals out of the way before I talk about what I specifically like about this episode. Ok? Ok.

Now, using the Watcher as the narrator for this series is just perfect. What If... already has a similar energy to The Twilight Zone: An anthology series that takes viewers to new and mysterious realities all through the guidance of an omniscient narrator. And using the Watcher as that type of narrator might just be the second-best choice...number one would be Stan Lee, obviously, but...he's dead now. May he rest in peace.

I haven't read that many comics, so there's not much that I know about the Watcher's character aside from a ten-second Google search. But something tells me that a character described as a celestial being that observes and records the events surrounding the galaxy sounds like the exact type of omniscience to guide us through the unknown. All added with Jeffrey Wright's performance, who really does convey a character that sounds like he's as old as time and wise beyond his years. Plus, it's pretty cool that such a seemingly odd character now technically plays a major role in the MCU canon. Comics are weird, and if the Watcher proves anything, it's better to embrace that weirdness than deny it.

The Animation: Looks like someone watched Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse.

That really is the feeling I got when watching this. What If... doesn't look as good as Spiderverse (Nothing can be as good as Spiderverse), but the idea is still there as it combines primarily CGI animation with a few hand-drawn elements. It makes certain scenes just pop and, at times, even makes specific shots look like they're straight from panels in a comic book. Besides, while Spiderverse still looks better, that doesn't mean the animation isn't phenomenal in What If... The scenery looks gorgeous, the CGI models moderately match their live-action counterparts, the expressions are fantastic, and movements are as smooth as butter. There was definitely some money that went into this series to make it look as good as it did, and my eyeballs were more than grateful because of it. Especially when it comes to--

The Action: Holy s**t, was it a good thing that this series was animated!

The MCU has had its fair share of great fight scenes in the past, but it always felt restricted to what the big superhero fights could be due to everything needing to look "realistic." That all changes in What If... Because now that this series is animated, we can finally chuck realism out the window and allow these characters to be as epic as they were in the comics. The movements are swift, the blows look like they hurt, and best of all, you actually get to see characters fighting each other! There are no random cuts to hide the stunt doubles or weird camera angles to avoid audiences seeing how ugly the CGIed replacements are. We get to see all of the action with zero restraint, thanks to the fact that animation is limitless and allows writers to get away with literally anything. And shows like this make me wonder, "Why the hell isn't the MCU animated?"

Peggy as Captain Carter: It's here that we get into the specifics, and by golly, do I love me some Peggy Carter making a return. And what a return she made!

Seeing Peggy kick Nazi ass as Captain Carter is as awesome as it sounds as she gives a new definition of a "Strong, independent woman." She took s**t from no one and was more than willing to destroy anybody who said differently. It's a ton of fun for fans (the ones who aren't sexist, at least) and even fun for Peggy as well now that she gets a chance to wreck shop. However, that in itself could cause problems. If you watched Agent Carter (a great show, by the way), then you'll know that Peggy doesn't act as...somewhat meatheaded as she does here. As she said it herself, she's "usually more covert than this." And she is, as she was pretty much the first superspy in the MCU, who's impressive through how she effortlessly infiltrates her way to winning the day with diminutive requirements for fighting. So stripping that away gets rid of a core part of what makes her character so interesting. Although, in fairness, you could blame the fact that the reason she's acting like this is that the super-soldier serum is messing with her brain a bit. We've seen through U.S. Agent the reciprocations of the wrong person taking the serum, and while Peggy is far from the worst pick, there are hints of why Steve Rodgers was the best choice. Still, even though it's not the same Peggy Carter, that doesn't mean Captain Carter is a poor addition to the hero roster in the MCU. She's cool in all the right ways, even though they're drastically different from what made her compelling, to begin with.

Howard Stark: Another character I'm more than happy to see again!

Howard didn't leave that much of a grand of an impression in Captain America: The First Avenger, but in Agent Carter (Seriously, great show), he was a blast. You can just tell he was Tony Stark's father through all the ways he fast-talks in and out of problems and brilliantly comes up with solutions thanks to being tech-savvy. The main difference between Howard and Tony, however, is that Howard prefers to stay on the sidelines, where Tony learned to be more proactive. You get a sense of that in this episode. Because even though he goes to save the day, you can tell that he would rather be anywhere else. And, as a bonus, Howard's just funny. Probably not up there as one of the funniest characters in the franchise (Paul Rudd's Ant-Man reigns supreme), but he still cracks me up more times than not. Howard may be nothing more than a side character, but he'll always win me over no matter how small of a role he has.

Steve Rodgers in the Hydra Stomper: Don't mind me. Just admiring the fact that despite being crippled and skinny, Steve Rodgers still finds a way to fight the good fight, which is who Steve is to me. One of the best things about The First Avenger is that it fully understands the hero that is Captain America. Serum or not, he will do all he can to do the right thing and won't give up despite how many times others tell him he should. So if Steve's going to fly around in a suped-up Iron Man suit that's appropriately named "The Hydra Stomper," then Steve'll f**king soar. Because he is a gosh dang superhero, no matter what name he takes at the end of the day.

Fast-Forwarding Through Events: Some fans might take issues with this. Don't get me wrong, I would love to see all the little changes that Captain Carter makes to the story, but realistically that's not the best choice to make. Let's be honest, there's not that much to show other than what this episode did, and doing a full-on rewrite of Captain America: The First Avenger would have rubbed some fans the wrong way. Besides, from what I can tell, most of the What If... comics are one-shots that very rarely branch out into longer arcs. The primary goal is less to write this large-scale story and more of this self-contained narrative that does what it precisely delivers: Show fans a glimpse of what would happen if this happened instead of that. That's what we were given, and I can't really complain that much. I would have loved to have seen more, but I can learn to be happy with what I got.

Colonel Flynn Taking Credit: This guy is sexist and an idiot, and that's why I hate him...but I'd be lying if I said that I didn't at least chuckle when he said everything was his idea. It's such a scumbag move that I couldn't help but find the humor in it.

(Like, what even was that scene where Peggy was pissed at Steve kissing a girl. THEY WEREN'T EVEN DATING !)nd Steve falling in love inThe First Avenger, which certainly wasn't helped by how they had these dumbass misunderstandings of each thinking the other was dating someone else. Here, they at least get to interact, confiding in one another about their insecurities and offer support when needed. And while it may be a little rushed, I'm more willing to believe their romance in under thirty minutes than I did in over two hours. It could have been better, but it also could have been much, much worse.

(Like, what even was that scene where Peggy was pissed at Steve kissing a girl. THEY WEREN'T EVEN DATING AT THE TIME!)

“I won’t tell you anything.”/”He told me everything.”: That's the Peggy Carter I know and love! Added with a solid joke, too.

Steve’s Pratfall: It's nice to know that no matter what universe we see, Marvel is still funny.

Peggy’s Sacrifice: Much like Peggy and Steve's romance, I buy Peggy's sacrifice way more than Steve's. Several fans already pointed out how it makes no sense for Steve to crash the plane into the icy waters when it seemed like he had enough control to land it or could have easily jumped out after aiming for the crash landing. Here, there's a more legitimate reason why Peggy sacrifices herself. The monster was undefeatable, and the only way to stop it was to push it back through the portal. Peggy, being the only one strong enough to do so at the moment, was the only option, and there was no way where she didn't end up going through with the monster. Even her return makes more sense, as I think her being lost to time and space sounds more believable than Steve surviving being frozen in ice. Something no mortal man should live through. Peggy's sacrifice proves that while the MCU can't change its cannon past, the writers learn from their mistakes and make something better.

WHAT I DISLIKED

The Reasoning Behind Peggy Becoming Captain Carter: So, the idea that one small change can greatly alter the story we knew is a great one, and it's one of the main reasons why I was excited about this series...but how does Peggy staying in the room cause the Hydra agent to detonate the bomb early? I understand the ripples that come from the Butterfly Effect, but I feel like that's too big of a leap to reason how Peggy ends up taking the serum instead.

Colonel Flynn: How is it possible that this guy is somehow even more of a pain in the ass than the general he replaced? At least Chester Phillips had the decency to respect Agent Carter!

Red Skull is Still on the Dull Side: Red Skull isn't an awful villain, but he wasn't really a great one. It's the same here, as he's just as forgettable and wooden an episode of television as he was in a full-length movie. But at least he had a cooler death this time.

Sebastian Stan is Not a Great Voice Actor: He's not awful, but his talent really doesn't shine in this regard. Some people think that being an actor and a voice actor is the same thing, but it's not always the case. Through live-action, actors are given a chance to express emotion through their expressions, movement, and voice. With voice acting, actors still have to convey emotions, but strictly through their voice. Meaning that actors like Sebastian Stan are limited to what they're used to and can stumble a bit when trying to perform in a field of acting they're unfamiliar with. You can tell he was trying his best, but this type of thing can take far more practice for others to perfect.

“Whew. Thanks. You almost ripped my arm off.”: ...hhhhhhhhhhHHHHHHHHA! HA HA! Ah...oh man...I, uh...I felt the internal bleeding with that one. Wow. Just...wow.

Bucky Leaving After Steve “Died”: Ok, now that's the biggest bout of bulls**t I've ever heard. BUCKY WOULD BE WITH STEVE 'TILL THE END OF THE LINE AND WOULD NOT HAVE LEFT THAT QUICKLY!

...This episode did Bucky dirty, didn't it?

IN CONCLUSION

I'd say that "What If...Captain Carter was the First Avenger" is an A-. It's still a solid start of what I can already tell will be a great series, but some elements could have used some polishing out. I loved it, but it wasn't as bloody brilliant as it could have been.

(And I meant it: WATCH AGENT CARTER! It's pleasantly surprising!)

#marvel cinematic universe #mcu reviews #marvel studios what if #peggy carter #captain carter #steve rodgers #hydra stomper #howard stark #bucky barnes #what i thought about #what if reviews

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maruzzewrites · 3 years

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(Every breathe you) Take #1

Hello! This is what was supposed to be the April’s Fool fic but I didn’t write it in time. It’s an Actor AU in the “universe” of EBYT. All nice and cool. Not real content warnings.

You looked down at your car’s clock. It was barely late afternoon, maybe he was in class. You let the phone fall onto the passenger’s seat, and continued to drive.

“Cut!”

The director shouts. Your shoulders go lax and the tension melts over your back, making you slump over the fake car seat. You stretch as everyone around starts to walk around, taking props and placing them outside the set. You climb out and look around to see your fellow actors, all gathered somewhere just outside the current scene.

You try to catch up with them, but you are stopped halfway. You almost trip over some cables on the ground when your manager calls you. She rushes to grab your arm, and you can see the burning desire to reprimand how clumsy you can be. She decides against it, yanking you straight and clearing her throat.

“You remember you got an interview today, right?” Her question is simple and, luckily, you do remember. Having an acting role is a new thing to you, especially with the role of the protagonist, and you did mess up a bit at the start. You are so used to minor roles or filling other positions around the set that you needed a bit to pick up the pace.

“Of course,” you answer. You see she is about to speak again, you even know about what: you need to plan what to say and what to omit during this interview. But you really don’t want to think about it, not with the filming being finished for the day. You will catch up later, “I will see you later. I need to do something…”

Before she can protest, you march away towards your colleagues. They’re now outside the building to allow some of them a quick smoke break, and they welcome you in their little circle without any problem. You look at each of them, and you find it hilarious how similar they are to their own characters – without the threatening auras, of course.

“So,” you cross your arms, “do you guys know what to say in this interview?”

“Excuse me,” One of the reporters raises his hand, a pen between his fingers. You look up at him and ask him to ask whatever he wants. He grins, “Thank you. So, can you tell us anything more about the idea behind this show?”

“Well,” you start and look around the other actors to see if someone wants to speak instead. No one even attempts, so it’s in your hands, “I was said it was supposed to be about normalcy and what it means in a dangerous place. The director has experience with people who are called not so legally to clean at strangers’ houses and wanted to show it more.”

The reporter thanks you for the answer, even seems to want to ask one more, but someone else jump on the occasion to inquiry, “Did you choose it because of the premise? It seemed like a difficult role for a new actor.”

You think about it a bit, “I liked the premise. It’s dark and I don’t know if I can fake falling in love more than being scared. These goons make it rather easy, too.”

You point at them with your thumbs; some of them chuckle, some of them roll their eyes, some seem more embarrassed than anything. You hope you haven’t offended them too bad – it’s not your fault they really look rather menacing at times.

“Means we are good actors,” Formaggio chimes in, grinning like a fox. He turns to you and points a finger, “You too. Sometimes I really think we are intimidating you. The first time you saw Risotto, you looked like you saw a ghost.”

Some of the people in the room giggle at that, while Risotto pouts a little at the observation. The poor man can’t help his appearance or his size, and you came to understand he is one of the calmest and nicest people in that group. To avenge him of this direct insult, you decide to tease Formaggio a bit, “Look who’s talking. You’re the one who looks like he belongs in an actual gang, here.”

The joke makes even the imperturbable Prosciutto crack a smile, along with the sneer from Illuso at Formaggio’s frown. You even see the next reporter barely contain a laugh when she raises her had to speak, “You seem to get along quite well. Do you find it interesting to work with your colleagues on this project?”

The question is general, but you figure you talked enough for all of them. When a second too much of silence lingers, Melone is happy to jump in, “I enjoy it quite a bit! I barely get the opportunity to work with people who are so funny.”

“Really?” Ghiaccio almost yells, before he can reign in his tone. His inside voice is still loud, but it borders a stage whisper, “Because you’re really annoying during breaks. You say the most inane things and we’re supposed to just take it.”

Melone smiles, affable, “As I said, funny. You’re all entertaining. I get why you would become actors!”

Someone in the public clears his throat and then stands up to speak. Doesn’t really wait for his turn, but no one seems to mind besides turning around in their seats to look at him. He asks, “How did you come to accept your parts? You seem like a very varied bunch.”

The others look at each other, then Prosciutto takes the stage, “Formaggio tried for the role before us, then told us about the auditions. I assume we were just the right fit for the characters.”

The reporter nods and then looks at you with expectation. You don’t have quite the same story to them, “I… I just wanted to try for a big role, for once. I was told I had the face for the story, even if now I knows it means being somewhat average.”

A bit of an awkward silence before someone – Melone, specifically – intervenes, “I don’t think you are average or plain. You just give a friendly vibe.”

You smile at him just when Illuso decides to speak up, “That’s a nice way to say homely.”

He gains a light punch in the arm since he is sitting right next to you, which makes him chuckle and pretend to fall over on his chair. Ghiaccio, sitting at his other side, shoves him almost violently when they are close to touching. Risotto tells them to calm down.

“Do you have anything to tell us about the future of the show?” A reporter takes advantage of the ruckus to ask before anyone else can. He looks at every actor for a handful of seconds each before elaborating, “Fans really want to know what’s coming up in the near future.”

You ponder on answering that one question. You don’t let anyone chime in before you take your decision, explaining, “I don’t think we can reveal too much, but what’s coming is probably obvious. You know about stories with gangs. There may be something surprising to it, maybe.”

The reporter nods and waits patiently. You just shoot him a kind smile and you can almost see the disappointment coloring his face. You were told not to speak too much about the future plot, direct orders from the director and your manager – who was very eager to let you know how much you needed to shut your mouth.

The reporter evidently knows when to drop it because he doesn’t prob further. The rest of the interview goes smoothly, with jokes and teasing, with answered questions. People are really curious about the show despite being so grim, but you appreciate the fans.

At the end of the whole thing, you wonder what you will read the following days in online articles from those reporters.

“Have you seen the new theories? People are really quick to take every ounce of info they can get from exclusives.” Melone scrolls his phone right before leaving it inside the pockets of his jacket, ready to put on his outfit.

You hum in response, too busy rereading the script for the episode. You hope you will finish quickly so that you go somewhere and eat with your colleagues – it’s been a while since your last lunch together. It may or not be because you end up giggling during the most tense scenes, during the first few takes.

Melone leaves you alone, wishing you good luck for the first scene of the day. You take a deep breath and replay it in your mind, trying to visualize it.

Going back home after a stressful day. After having to play a game of cat and mouse with dangerous men, wanting nothing more than a doll in their hands. You feel the tension harden your muscles, your shoulders and back stiff with anxiety.

You are a cleaner dealing with something too big for you, and you return to that house.

#JoJo's Bizarre Adventure #la squadra #la squadra esecuzioni #reader insert #actor au #something short and sweet instead of the usual pain and anxiety

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dropsofletters · 4 years

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do i even know you?

title: do i even know you? pairing: im changkyun/reader genre: aspiring actors!au/scriptwriter!au/best friends!au/forbidden love!au summary: The idea comes to them after one of their classes, making them widen their eyes as they scurry to start the first draft of the movie of their dreams. Changkyun promises to her that if this movie ever airs for the world to see, they are going to take part on it and how ironic it is that he does get a role in it once the script is accepted, but she is suddenly erased from his life. Will Changkyun pick fame or friendship? type: angst/fluff/humor/romance word count: 22,689 disclaimer: this is part of my august special called ‘the anti-love club’. each story can be read individually, however, you’d be getting a little bit more of backstory along with some easter eggs if you read each of them, as well as helping me with support. the masterlist can be found here.

The most beautiful stories never happen.

As a recent graduate, she holds onto the words she heard at two in the afternoon once, cold coffee on one hand, a pencil on the other and when the professor said such words to a group of sophomores willing to give their lives out for the art of scriptwriting, she had to jot it down. Most people believe that, in some way or another, they have to pour their souls out into their writing—as if words are only meaningful when felt, but she wonders if when there is too much sentimentalism in a piece, it loses meaning.

The notebook that she used for that class now rests on top of her kitchen counter. Next to it, a recipe of lemon meringue pie reminds her that time has passed by, for she doesn’t even remember watching said recipe on YouTube. Whenever she has an idea, she likes to grasp that same old notebook and jot something down, in scribbled notes that will definitely be read in the future in complete confusion. She has never understood her handwriting when she’s rushing, and her mind just never connects with the feeling that once existed. Maybe, that’s what the professor was trying to say—that the best writers are the ones that can convey feelings that they haven’t gone through, while those who need to sense in order to inspire an idea will live with the doom of being detached from it with the passage of time.

Instead of trying to remember the good old times of being more youthful than today, she should really wake her friend up with a cup of coffee to continue the script that has been the cause of their issues for the past seven months. Or a year, because Changkyun was the one to speak the plot while in a drunken night, and she had been the sober one to make it into something bigger while he slept.

Changkyun is that one stain in her life, exact like the one on the counter, beside the notebook that she has now closed. He has always been there, sometimes faintly, sometimes strongly. In the bubblegum that once caressed her hair when she was thirteen thanks to a devilish smile from him, and the bob cut that followed soon after. In the days of high school in which they would write the worst of stories and make their theater club friends play them out for groups of people, nothing ever to big. In her university days, most of the time spent dating around, once even dating each other for the sake of not being alone, only to break up a week later. And now, in her room, limbs interlocked with her blanket as if hugging someone’s body, cheek squished to the plaid material and the curtains of his black hair make his closed eyes disappear from her eyesight.

Though, she could recognize Changkyun’s face anywhere, for the simplistic existence of him is just second nature to her. Even in the times in which he could have left, he stayed—and vice versa. A pull that brought the two of them together, like gravity, so strong that her mind liked to imagine that it could never be broken.

If she knows the kind of coffee he likes in the morning—more milk than coffee, mind him—, then she really has to have a grasp into the kind of person he is.

One smack of her hand against his thigh is enough to have him open one eye, only to stretch his legs, joints and bones cracking alike, before his feline-like eyes are closed again. He doesn’t budge, doesn’t move, and after an all-nighter of re-writing the last scene of their final draft for their script, she is not surprised that tiredness seems to cling to him in his comfortable clothing. Around midnight, something of the like of the number two, asleep had ridden her to forget about the existence of their beloved work, the one that they had put their entire hopes into. Changkyun, however, must have fallen asleep later.

Resting the coffee on the bedside table, her weight fell on top of his, horizontal when reaching for the curtains next to her bed. Pulling them open coats her with the image of a city that holds her dreams, and yet seems too small for them. After all, making it as a scriptwriter is already difficult, but paying the bills is even more so. The tall buildings seem too tiny for her daydreaming, but the groan under her is loud enough to ground her and tell her that she is still, very much, tied by the wrist to the one man that has been almost crucial to her life…and that, clearly, none of them have made it.

“What do you think you are doing?” He asks, voice empty and with no feelings behind them. The light of that professor’s eyes, Changkyun used to be. He feels, of course he does, his body count is enough to say that the man feels with his entire heart—and in the depths of those, she likes to believe the fan of conspiracies believes in love—, but he has always been intelligent enough to differentiate his craft from his everyday life. She doesn’t.

With one hand resting over his face for the purpose of annoying him when she puts weight on it to bring her body up and straight, she answers. “Waking you up.”

“Don’t, then.”

And with his two fire eyes sending a look of despair towards her, he brings the sheets up his face to dim the sunlight that she had gladly welcomed him to. “Changkyun, we really need to finish this script today. Tomorrow’s Monday and you know I have to work—” No response, that is what she receives, to the point her hand has to bring another harsh smack to his thigh. It rings, probably leaves a red mark behind with the way he pulls the blanket away from his face, a frown painted on his features.

“Of course I do, I work with you.”

She imagines it, then, conceives it from her reality as she always does. Two recent graduates from university that had, thanks to the power of unemployment, ended up as teachers in some high school for the dramatics and lovers of shitty musicals and TV shows. They are too young to be taken seriously, most of the time, and Changkyun loves that part of his job…but that is not what has been imagined by the two of them. Cheap costumes and Shakespeare lines are not less important things, but they are not her priority, much less her dream.

Every single morning since she was twelve, she has gotten to see Changkyun. Sometimes, she doesn’t even realize he has grown up along with her. However, growing up in one thing—growing is another. As artists, scriptwriters to be exact, they have gotten stuck. Perhaps, their ideas are not enough for consideration, or the industry is closed enough to leave them out, but each morning that she gets to see him…to work with him, she knows that they deserve better.

That, in reality, her professor was never wrong.

The most beautiful stories never happen…

But fuck, she will do anything to make their dreams come true.

Sitting down beside him, she really studies him. Changkyun has his eyes closed again, the black strands of his hair a bit lengthy, the shadow of some facial hair appearing if she looks at him from close enough. His gray hoodie has a mark on it, perhaps saliva if she is judging him from well-earned knowledge, and his hand reaches out for her. It rests on her knee, weights that part of her down to remind her that no matter how many times they argue, they will always be together.

That’s the promise life brought to them.

“If you want to keep working as a theater teacher for the rest of your life, go ahead, keep sleeping, but you know that Kwon told us that he has some connections to have our script reviewed by very important people so—help me finish it?” Kwon is more of a friend of Changkyun’s than he is hers. Older than them by a few years but not wiser, the man still keeps believing that he is nineteen even when he is nearing his thirties, but his party-going ways has led Kwon to have a name in the industry, albeit important. Less of a scriptwriter and more of a costume designer, it wouldn’t surprise her if he ends up working internationally in a few years from now.

Changkyun finally opens his eyes, pointing at the tablet on top of her bedside table, near the coffee cup that must be getting cold by now. “Finished it, now let me sleep.”

Her heart feels as if it has momentarily stopped. “Finished it? What do you mean?”

“That I finished it.” Changkyun’s deep voice gets rough, the lack of water getting to his throat when he takes matters into his own hands and picks up the tablet before giving it to her. “It’s in our shared document. I finished it at five…I don’t know, six in the morning?”

With fear, as if the world is too fragile for her astoundingly strong hands, she lets herself unlock his tablet and look through the document. Through the cracks of the screen, all caused by the disaster that is Changkyun, she reads the art that he has crafted. The scenery, the dialogue, the description, all powerful, spoken into existence for the characters that have been brought to life by them. Every breath taken by the main characters is harsher than the last one, stronger, leaving her speechless with every sentence given, every line that finishes it off with a bow and a twist that fits perfectly.

When she looks at him, Changkyun has one arm splayed on top of his eyes. His other hand still rests on top of her knee, though the fingers hold her looser, as if he’s off and very close to arriving to dreamland. Tired, perhaps too much so, she realizes that this idea that had been begun by him could have only been finished by Changkyun. He has always been a better writer, she repeats as a mantra, but he begs to differ. If anything, Changkyun defends it as saying that he simply sees the picture with other lenses and the different perspectives created something out of a movie. Something worth of being turned into a movie.

“Kyun…” She says, only hearing a faint hum from her best friend. Almost as if she is back to the days in which they were both teenagers, she launches herself into his arms. Her head looks for leverage on his bony shoulder, lips pressed into a tight smile the more she feels the warmth of him. Somewhere on the bed, the tablet blinks for her attention, and Changkyun can barely place his other hand on top of her back when she speaks again. “How the fuck did you even get that idea? You wrote such a beautiful ending—”

“Ah, you were sleeping and I was listening to music and it just popped inside my mind.” Changkyun says, seriousness in his voice when her hair cascades around his face, pulling her body away from his to look at him, their ribs connected while she remains seated on the bed, but still caging him into the mattress. “You like it?”

“I think—whew, I’m just surprised!” She speaks in a louder tone, realizing that a lazy smile has appeared over his face. His mouth parts the slightest and it wouldn’t surprise her if he’s breathing through his mouth, typical of him. “Changkyun, I really could kiss you right now…if you were another person, that is.”

Changkyun quirks an eyebrow at that, soon after doubling in laughter. “We’ve been there.”

“When we were twenty.”

His shoulders, wrapped tightly in that hoodie with the unknown stain, shrug at her retaliation. “Not too long ago. You can’t make fun of it when we were both all in for it at that moment.”

Thinking back of that day, she can’t help but feel her toes curling, her spine shivering and her neck folding the slightest to stop the motion. “We lasted one week, that’s enough of a confirmation that we shouldn’t do it again.”

“Most likely.” Changkyun chuckles, sitting up on the bed before tossing the hoodie up his head, throwing it somewhere in her room. The white t-shirt underneath clings to his slim body as he moves through the place, knowing it as if it was his. A sense of nostalgia may not cling to him, but it does to her—recently, her thoughts have been invaded with the reality that she will have to move away from this shared apartment soon. To find a life that is more fitted for someone that is not in university, and hence, should probably follow the societal rules of living alone. “I’m going to go pee. Check for spelling errors if you want to.”

Her back touches the surface of her bed, looking at the document on the screen per his request. “On it.”

For a moment, perhaps seconds, words merge into their own momentum in front of her—she feels as though she is reliving this last scene again, saying her goodbyes to the characters that oh-so-pleasantly had been crafted by her best friend and herself. Nonetheless, the sound of Changkyun’s feet jumping against the thin wood of her flooring has her looking away and towards the door, not surprised to see her small, yet incredibly extroverted roommate.

Jiyoung is one of her closest friends, as well, companion of her life since university, the source of the music around her house, the one to sing at the top of her lungs and to constantly have her dyeing her hair, because Jiyoung can’t do it herself—or doesn’t want to—. Something about leaving Jiyoung behind to look for another home makes her heart ache, but her roommate remains ignorant to her advances. Instead, her liking of Changkyun has inflated into one big balloon the last few months.

If Changkyun is interested, he doesn’t show it.

So, that leaves her to believe he really is not interested.

Not to say the woman is not attractive. Jiyoung, now with a bob in a blond shade, is just too pushy for Changkyun’s liking. Hence, watching her standing in front of his best friend’s door with a glass in between her fingers must have given him the clear sign that she must have been eavesdropping to whatever they were saying. It wouldn’t surprise her one bit if that was the case.

“Changkyun—”

“Sorry, need to pee.” But behind the complexity of Changkyun, he likes to play ignorant more than he likes to play with a heart. Not outspoken enough to sit Jiyoung back on her seat and ask for some privacy, he scavenges away to the bathroom, leaving her roommate with a pout on her lips and said glass in between her fingers.

“Do you think I freaked him out?” Once, she nods and that is enough to have Jiyoung sighing and pressing one hand to her forehead. “I just wanted to listen to what you were saying.”

“Did you listen to us?”

“No. This didn’t work.” Almost exuding rage towards the glass on her hand, Jiyoung tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I’ll go make breakfast so I can make myself look better.”

Hiding a laugh on the depths of her throat, she nods once again. “Good idea.”

With one last turn on the balls of her feet, Jiyoung is away from her room, leaving her with an opened door, an annoyed sigh and a script to revise. Thankfully, the conclusion of such a prolonged project is enough to have her resting back on her bed and taking a sip of the cold coffee that must have been for Changkyun.

Her companion, the only person that artistically gets her, Im Changkyun.

###

For the past hour, she has been looking for one box in the colors of red and white. Enough to distract her in the party-obsessed crowd that she finds herself in, but also a way of fitting in that doesn’t get her out of her tracks. In between empty bottles of alcohol and people blowing smoke into her face, concentrating comes with difficulty, pushing through said bodies until her hand clutches the desired cigarettes and she is off to find her best friend, though an almost impossible task.

Not that she is much of a smoker, she has possibly had around four in the entirety of her life—to try them out and concentrate on something else when her anxiousness is up the roof. The taste is not the most tranquil one, the smoke does capture most of her attention, pushing it out in little rings that never come out as perfectly as Changkyun’s. Then again, a beginning is also an ending, and the first person to ever steal a cigarette from a party to try them out had been Changkyun, sharing it with her to have that first experience together, as well. One of many, and hopefully one in a million.

Once, she had taken the time to read some myths off of a book in the library in high school. She was bored, and it was around that time of her life in which reading came easier to her. In the back of her brain, she can remember saying that losing a friend is even worse than losing a partner, a soulmate, one’s life even. As if our hearts are tainted, deliberately looking for someone who is always there, something in a stronger presence, sometimes duller. Past kissing, past hugging, past presents…to be listened to intently and to listen with equal interest is more than anyone could ever hope for. And she has that.

Seated on the same place that she had left him in, near the entrance, his body dragged down until he is on the floor. No seats are left and the backyard of this big mansion smells like rotten egg and something of the like of puke, leaving them by the door with the need to have Kwon finally making some time for them. To spend time, however, she lets her weight rest back on his side, crossing one leg over the other to avoid flashing anyone and getting a good glimpse of Changkyun when he turns to look at her.

When she was twenty, she could have really fallen for him. Or not. She likes to believe that what happened was the best—them fearing and scurrying away from the possibility of being together and losing their friendship. Changkyun said that once everything became serious, it would be too difficult for them to keep it, and she had added that maybe, they were just curious to feel for the other, to kiss until their lips were sore and their hearts were aching for a break. Now, she realizes that there had been some kind of attraction in the past, a reason as to why Jiyoung wakes up earlier than usual to get ready when Changkyun comes by.

His black hair is pushed away from his face elegantly, a few strands out of place, matching the sweater that covers his body and causes a layer of sweat to rest on top of his forehead. He wipes it off, but the clothing may have been a bad option in such a packed party. Shoes scatter around him, around them to be exact, the walls bathed in the glow of lights that are far too artificial to settle well in her eyes and when she shows him the package of cigarettes, his lips quirk up in a recognizable smirk.

“Aren’t those the brand that we stole when we first smoked cigarettes?” Changkyun asks, his attention to detail often misunderstood—he remembers the most random of situations, just not anything special like dates or exact momentums that are more important for other people.

Back at the time, when they were seventeen, he had insisted on bleaching his hair and she remembers it because the image of Changkyun wearing a beanie on top of his hair to cover the disaster that he had made, even making some strands fall out in the process, can’t ever leave her brain. At the time, he had been better than her with smoking, even going as far as impressing the older kids with the rings he could blow into the thin air. On the other hand, the sound of her throat contracting when blowing the cigarette wrongly had been enough to dust her skin in embarrassing heat. “I thought it’d be fitting to have some cigarettes for good time’s sake, considering that you’re not balding now and we haven’t done this since we were seventeen.”

Changkyun rolls his eyes, perhaps mockingly, as he smacks his index finger on top of the closed box of cigarettes after opening it, the cig popping out at his motions. “So you can choke again, homie?”

“Don’t homie me.” Watching as Changkyun reaches for the lighter that she had almost managed to snatch away, the flames take over the cigarette in between his lips. The smell is horrid, and part of her wonders why she even wanted to craft that memory back to life, but watching him is more of a sight. His thin lips almost shyly wrap around it, taking his index and middle finger to push the cigarette away. “Come on, do the little rings.”

He lifts a finger from his free hand up in the air, putting his lips into an ‘o’ shape and almost as if he had never stopped smoking, he blows four rings into the air, dissipating into the crowd of people in front of them, not caring about their existence. In their little bubble, they are, when she cheers for him and Changkyun has to cough out the excess of smoke that he managed to swallow accidentally, only reacting when her fingers reach for the cigarette and puts it between her lips.

His eyes, windows to the soul, concentrate on her lips as they play with the cigarette, taking it away from her mouth before she could even let it burn the slightest. “You shouldn’t be smoking these.”

“It’s only one. I’m not getting addicted.” She replies, her chest coming in contact with his when she puckers her lips to reach for the cigarette, only to have him twisting it around and taking another drag himself. “Besides, I was the one that stole them.”

“You shouldn’t steal.”

“Well, I was bored.” Finally relenting, just when she rests her head on top of his shoulder to further accentuate her boredom, she feels his fingers slipping the cigarette in between her lips, grabbing it properly to have a taste. “It’s your fault that Kwon had us coming to this horrible, rich party just to check if he has gotten out script.”

But Changkyun is deep in his thoughts, as if the lights in front of them, the smell of beer and cocktails, the people dancing are the ones trancing him. He doesn’t pay attention to the smoke that appears in his line of sight, not when he lets out a fragile smile appear on his face. “I don’t think it’s a horrible rich party.”

“Why?”

“They have money.”

“Yeah, and?”

“That’s all everyone needs, right?” Changkyun asks, perhaps a bit lost in the way he raises his eyebrows, looking into her eyes for the briefest second when he voices out something so…volatile. In a way, she knows that money is important, but even thinking about the weight of it makes her sick in the stomach. Another difference of theirs—she escapes, while he roams the world to look for his one light. She looks at the city from far away, wishing to have a bigger dream, while Changkyun makes himself silently known in between the buildings. “And wants, actually. If we had money, we wouldn’t be teaching a bunch of teenagers how to be or not to be. We’d be…I don’t know, you remember how Matt Damon and Ben Affleck were back in the day? Like the closest of friends but rich? We’d be that.”

She pushes the cigarette towards his lips, as if to shut him up for a second, and she tells him the truth from up close. “I’m happy with being your friend, no matter how much we earn or how famous we are. We may not be famous celebrity friends, but we’re amazing friends.”

And then, she switches her mind. Part of her begs for him to say something, to agree that there is nothing more than there shall be needed in between the two than relishing over memories and creating new ones, than knowing each other to the core. Instead, Changkyun hums, taking the cigarette from his lips and looking at it. “You’re doing it wrong.”

“…Life? Yeah, I know.”

With laughter from him relishing his lack of response to her previous statement, Changkyun shakes his head. “No. Smoking. You blow the smoke out too fast; you’ll never get to do the rings if you just spit everything out.”

“Teach me.” Fixing her posture, she twists until her legs are interlocked with his, watching as he takes the cigarette once again and like second nature, blows out three smoke.

“Put your lips up, like blowing a kiss, but control the air you’re letting out. In little spurts, you know?”

She doesn’t. Not when she gets to see Changkyun from up close and realize that there are angels in him, singing choirs, making it dangerous to get too close…but knowing that he’s the same man she has always known. Her friend. Growing up doesn’t mean he has changed, but uniting the past and the present made her realize that, in most occasions, there is never a future. The finalization of their script taught her that there will always be a perfect ending, and beginning to think of hers—hers alongside Changkyun’s, has a knot forming on her throat, not distinguished by the man that laughs when she, once again, can’t blow rings into the air.

To control his laughter, she says: “Shut up, you’d look hotter doing that little trick of yours if you had a lip ring, but you look dumb now.”

Pushing the cigarette onto the floor to dull its flame down and extinguish it, Changkyun replies: “At least, I get to do the party trick.”

“…You don’t have to be a dick about it.”

“I’m not!” He adds, grinning widely when he takes the package of cigarettes and tosses it somewhere on the dance floor. “Now, let’s pretend you never stole anything now that you had your fun.”

“Now that you got to make fun of me?”

“That, too.”

With light following after him, as well as a lover for the night, a particularly known head of brown hair appears in front of her. Long strands, a bit wavy at the edges, only pushed back by the fashionable pink sunglasses that are doing nothing to conceive the blessed-out look on his eyes. Kwon is a sight to see, someone that is made for fashion and has conceptualized it. The pristine red shirt with some buttons opened, paired with some nicely shaped pants already make him the highlight of the night, taking her by the hand to have her up her feet and away from Changkyun.

“Guys, you don’t have to sit on the floor. Come on, you’re my friends!” But this elongated slur on Kwon’s tone just lets her know that he has been drinking too much, and while she welcomes the hug by the shoulders that he gives her, his lover of the night doesn’t seem equally pleased.

Changkyun dusts the back of his jeans before speaking up. “Sorry, the backyard just smelled like shit and we decided to stay here.”

“As per usual. These parties get crazy.”

The interest on the situation perks up when she realizes that Kwon is in front of her. Growing rich Kwon, who has been an excellent friend to the two of them—more to Changkyun than her—but his pleasant personality is only the cause of a million questions inside her head. “Changkyun told me this is your mansion now. You’ve really made it big, huh?”

“My boyfriend helped me find it,” Kwon says, not caring that someone is holding onto his arm at that moment, or that he takes a sip of his beer right after he says it. “You know, he gave me all this to shut me up. It worked.” Yet, the laughter that leaves his lips sounds a bit strained. This fear of richness has always existed within her, and it may come from a place of deep, rooted jealousy that she has never explored in her, but fame, money and having everything in life is just too much for some people. Too strained, too fake, surrounded by people who rarely cared about them…and knowing about that destroys whoever is in that position, too.

“I like it!” She says, trying to change the subject, placing her arms over her chest just in time to have Kwon nodding at her words.

“Just like how I like your dress. Is it thrifted?”

In such a place, it may be a sin to say what she just did. “It is!”

“I like the whole putting a shirt under the dress situation. Makes it look more fashionable.” Kwon explains, swatting his companion’s hand away and wrapping his arms around Changkyun’s and her shoulders, the smell of alcohol dense in the air. It worries her, for no matter how close or not close Kwon is to her, he means a lot to Changkyun. His innocent face, rounded, going together with his pair of twinkling brown eyes and huge grin, has now transformed into something more somber. The typical smirk, a dark glance, and a tinge of pain beneath those eyelids. “How have you two been? Changkyun, you’ve been taking care of her, I imagine.”

“…Of each other, I guess. We’re always together.” Changkyun explains, walking towards the main hallway, much quieter than the rest of the mansion. “By the way, did you read our script?”

“Twice.” And that excitement that characterizes Kwon reappears, letting go of them to grasp his own hands together. “Couldn’t expect anything less from you guys!”

“So?” She asks, biting down on her bottom lip out of pure curiosity, only to have Kwon looking at her.

“I’ve sent the script to some of my friends. Connections, you know, I’d do anything for two of my real friends.” The pain behind that statement is brushed off by the man who says it, but she can’t help but stare at him in awe. How she wishes she could talk to him once sober, and make him feel as though he is more worthy than he lets himself on. Some stars lose their light, dulled in the skies and losing themselves in their darkness, and Kwon is one of them. “But it may take a while. Three months minimum. You know how big producers are, much more if they are companies, but I’m doing my best here.”

“That’s more than we could ask for.” Changkyun speaks, already patting Kwon’s back. “Man, thanks for helping us out!”

“I want to be in the speech when you win an award, that’s all I ask for.” Kwon says, stopping on his tracks. “And a drink, you guys want one?”

“How about…some tea? Just so you can unwind…and not get drunker.” She replies, a chuckle to her tone to seem more amicable, and the way Kwon smiled at them breathed all senses of hope out.

“I haven’t had tea in so long. Sure!”

Because Kwon may have earned a million friends, but none of them cared as much as a real one did. As much as she cared for Changkyun, and vice versa, the reason as to why she believes that it is harder to find a friend than for it to rain in hell.

And it may be hell for her to live without her best friend.

###

“You know that one movie with the pants and the girls?”

Changkyun lifts his eyebrows from his position on the couch, legs too parted in the cramped space, her knees pressed to her chest, heartbeat unmatched to the crickets making their noises outside. The wind blows on the window obnoxiously, far too old for it to stand upright with the commotion, trembling under its weight before falling silent and repeating again. However, her mind is off to one of those corners of her brain that goes unexplored, only opened when around Changkyun—the only person that brings a sense of comfort that only comes with the candidness of her favorite denim jacket.

His eyes don’t divert from the screen, instead speaking with that patience that characterizes him. “You have to be more specific,” But lastly, he decides to look at her. His face turns to her, eyes inspecting her quiet stance the more she tries to think about that one movie…now roaming her brain with images of watching it on a girl’s night with some friends that are no longer in her life. Nostalgia, what a curse for her, a lover of vintage things and then, some. “I am sure that almost every woman in movies wears pants. Unless we are talking about…I don’t know, The Little Mermaid? I doubt she wears pants, but that’s because she is not a woman but a mermaid instead.”

“You know the one!” She tells him, her fingers absentmindedly reaching for his arm, touching the taut and delicate skin there before tugging at him. “The one with the friends…and they have these pants that represent their friendship—”

“What?” Changkyun asks in a whisper. “What kind of movies are you watching?”

“I’ve watched it a long time ago, but it has come to me that maybe our friendship would be stronger—”

“With a pair of pants?”

“Jeans, to be exact.”

“…Don’t.” Changkyun has lifted his voice to an amused tone now, laughing to his heart’s content. Sometimes, she wonders why she is so sensitive to sound—the reason as to why she enjoys (and fears) horror movies a lot more than the normal person. Her ears can pick out the noise of him perfectly well, the ruffling of the fabric of his shirt, the sigh that barely leaves his lips as he rests his head on top of hers and gently lowers down her face to his shoulder. The spot that she normally takes. “We don’t need fucking jeans to strengthen our friendship. There’s nothing to strengthen there.”

But, perhaps, this is just the rom-com equivalent of a best friend—and while those friendships last a lifetime, and include memories of looking for that one love affair for the main character. Only that she is not worthy of being any movie’s main character, and this is reality that she is talking about. The harsh one that reminds her that there is a world of badness outside those windows, in streets and in houses alike. “Don’t you…? I want to word this correctly…” She says, pulling away from him to look towards the ceiling. “Don’t you wonder if we’re…going to be friends forever?”

“I never think that far ahead,” Changkyun says. “That’s one of the reasons why I haven’t even given Jiyoung the time of the day.”

At the sound of her roommate’s name, she perks up. Jiyoung had proclaimed to be out for the night to run some errands, and by errands it must be that she has gotten tired of chasing around Changkyun and to ease the stress of not being paid attention to, a man had fallen into the traps of her perfectly manicured nails. “Ah, she’s only like that with you. Feel honored that you have an almost sex goddess right behind you.”

“It’s not pretty when she’s eavesdropping on every conversation we have or when…when she tries to become this image of the typical girl anyone thinks I’d like.” Changkyun confesses…and those are the moments in which the wind almost whispers to her that Changkyun has standards. That slim, somewhat pensive, sometimes intelligent and unknowingly funny man has thought about real love, or at least, has made an image of it inside his head. “To answer your question, though—”

“Please, do.”

“If I had to think that far ahead, like me…all wrinkly…on the verge of dying…one of the people I’d see right beside me is you.” One would think that there is a hidden meaning behind his statement, that Changkyun laughing at his words soon after makes it lose its sincerity, but the image is so clear in her head that she cannot imagine it not happening. Not with hands interlocked, not with a band around her finger, but chuckling to her heart’s content at the mere presence of him. Dreaming of the youth they had once lived, and not regretting it once. That is the real future she expects to have.

“I would be lying if I said I didn’t think the same thing.” She answers, placing one hand over his thigh when she goes stand up. For a moment, when she looks over her shoulder, his smile pulls her in. In moments like these is when irrational ideas make sense inside her head, like the one time in the midst of a conversation, they had opted to date. Something about Changkyun would always tell her to take a sip of life and let it simmer in her mouth, to breathe and relish in the feeling of having a new day to exist…and one new day with him. “I can imagine you as an old man. The one uncle that tells you about how he always knew about the existence of aliens.”

The infamous part of their friendship is that she knows him and that knowledge comes with the hindsight of feeling Changkyun trailing right behind her, just like she expected, when moving towards the kitchen. Jiyoung must have left some of her chicken leftovers somewhere for them to enjoy. “Let’s be honest.”

“Sure.”

“Aliens do exist.”

“They do.” She utters, hands already reaching for the refrigerator for something to pair up with cereal, for the leftovers are not in her line of sight, when the coldness of it all makes her feel…small. In a world in which she is simply one woman and her friend. Two people, two souls, only the two of them. For the longest time, she had wondered if there were friendships that felt as substantial as the one that has lasted her since the early days of her youth, and the answer is always inconclusive. Not a lot of friendships reminisce the most meticulous of things—she remembers the first meal they shared together, bowls of rice made by themselves, and still remembers the nights in which the conspiracies of the world were more interesting than homework. “I could be one, and you wouldn’t have known. Aliens are clearly more intelligent than us.”

Seated by the counter, waiting for his own serve of food, Changkyun answers: “That’s the reason why you’re not one.”

“Are you calling me dumb?”

A glint on his eyes and a shake of his head are the answers she gets: “Maybe.”

The sugary treat enters her mouth thanks to her spoon, not concentrating on the taste when she speaks with her mouth full. “I’m not that dumb.”

“We’re equally as dumb, I’d say.” Changkyun unites them in a sentence, almost as if their friendship was meant to be, leaning forward until his mouth diverts another spoonful from her cereal to his lips, only chuckling when her hand comes in contact with his shoulder. “Hey, I’m joking. Are you unable to take a joke?”

Before she could respond to him, the sound of her phone ringing has her perking up. A pointed glare towards him does nothing to push him away from her meal, instead opening his mouth to take another spoonful. Struts are what bring her closer to her phone, catching one glimpse of the contact name before leaning against the counter swiftly. “Kwon, how are you doing?”

The pop of the man’s lips is the first answer she gets. “Much better now that I get to hear your voice. Haven’t heard that sincerity in a while.”

“Three months, you say?”

“You haven’t visited me.”

“Been busy.”

“With your students, I’m guessing.”

“Entirely. Also, with finding an apartment, I’m trying to move out soon…and grow up, you know?”

“Please, don’t.” Kwon adds in between a chuckle, perhaps leaning his head back, the sourness of his voice mixed with alcohol. “Growing up is not a nice thing.”

“I know,” She conquers, voice softened at the edges when she looks at Changkyun. Once smaller, shorter, much more innocent, with his eyes looking for the art in the shape of movies—for wanting to create stories of universes he has yet to explore. Given the chance of sharing a snippet of Changkyun’s mind, she could not be more thankful of meeting him. “How’s your boyfriend?”

“Ex?” Kwon asks, a tilt to his voice and then, the movement of curtains being drawn open captured her attention. “Forgotten. I’m in Paris, living the life of a single man in the city of love.”

Music blurs in the background, far too distant for her to catch when a smile spreads through her features. “I see, better lonely than with a bad man.”

“Exactly.” Kwon breathes out before chuckling to himself. “But that’s not why I’m calling. I actually have a reason to bother you.”

Taking the spoon from Changkyun’s fingertips, she takes a bite and lets the crunch fill the air as she speaks. “You don’t bother me…or us, really! Changkyun is right beside me, stealing my food.” The man in question sends a screamed greeting over the phone, warmth brought to her chest when she imagined reuniting—the three of them—in a place in which there weren’t as many people, in which conversations could take place better than at a party.

“Put me on speaker, I have huge news for you.” Back when she was younger, she had learned how to not get excited. Her heart is not beating rapidly, imagining that Kwon is going to talk about one of his rendezvouses while in Paris, but Changkyun’s face is glued to the phone, eyebrows furrowed when listening intently. “I got a few replies for your script, actually. Mostly no’s, and three yes’s.” Kwon indicates, her eyes widening at the image of producers—out of the best places in the world—thinking of their project as worthy of a positive answer. “So, I kept going. I reunited with a few of these people and I got you a contract with the best of the trio, and the one that gives you the most money, as well. They are in love with your work and would wish to meet you to go over the contract with their lawyers and the lawyers I’ve contracted for you.”

The generous soul of Kwon is the least of her worries when images flash through her eyes. Getting out of a limousine with Changkyun right behind her, cameras flashing, the posters on the red carpet showing the pictures of their film—theirs, crafted by their own two hands, actors and actresses in love with the film, the reviews coming in whether negative or positive. Reviews, nonetheless. This is what makes her let the phone rest on the table, soon after expanding her hands to cage Changkyun in a hug that is welcomed by him immediately, hands settling on her waist when he leans her back—enough to be considered a tango when her lips part in delight and let out the biggest of cackles, almost smiling at life and the beauty of it.

Changkyun is equally as excited, thanking Kwon from the top of his lungs as he twirls her around on the kitchen and it is the most beautiful of moments when her hair is tousled, his chest is heaving and Kwon is speaking in the background, the two friends staring at each other’s eyes. Two worlds that are now part of the huge universe of future stardom. “I’m so happy that you two are getting this opportunity.”

“It’s all thanks to you, man!” Changkyun speaks in his deep voice, moving over to where the phone is resting before laughing to himself. “Oh fuck, you really did not disappoint us one bit.”

“Wait until you see how much you’re getting paid and how in love they are with this film. They couldn’t believe they were written by two theater teachers.”

“They better believe now.” She replies, looking to the side to see Changkyun already staring at her, whispering in a low, almost unbelievable tone.

“We will make it.”

The word ‘we’ holds so much weight, two people united to the end of the world…but one will always be left alone.

We will make it, he says, and she chooses to believe that is the truth.

###

Her head is tilted down, chin resting on the crook of her elbows, both arms spread on top of the table as she stares at the other groups of people. Quite a lazy, yet somewhat childish, pose…but waiting for Changkyun always comes with its downsides. For one, he is late to this ever-so-awaited dinner they planned to have the night before they meet with the people that want to take their script to the big screen, and secondly, she can’t text him more times without getting blocked on the end. Intense, she is, and Changkyun is still very much late.

The restaurant is not quite as expressively elegant as one would believe. If anything, the cheering of children, the cackles of couples and that one alone costumer that is too occupied on their phone feels far too homely. She has been there before with Changkyun, plenty of times, sometimes deciding on something like a pizza, other times thinking that the biggest dish on the menu is their way to go. Adventures spoken in between food, she’d like to call it, and it is such an excellent contrast to be there to celebrate other than, obviously, eat. To worship the idea of finally getting to be just like the people they used to look up at when younger.

A woodened wall that covers half of her body is what separates her from the main area, instead opting for the one that carries most of the drinkers of this bar-restaurant. A man is shouting about the game that she couldn’t care less about, but with the boredom clinging up to her, she decides to rank the soccer players from most handsome to least. Something about athletes has always caught up to her, after all.

Her body perks up at the weight of someone’s lips pressing to the top of her head, turning around to scream at whoever has decided to break this barrier of personal space. However, Changkyun’s arm is already wrapped around her shoulder, their friendship bracelet caressing her shoulder. His reads the first two digits of the year in which they met, while hers has the last two. The white fabric of his t-shirt covers her vision until she decides to lift her gaze, watching his eyes from under the cap over his black hair, an apology in them.

“Sorry, I was getting ready.”

“I can tell,” She says, staring into his eyes before taking the fabric of his shirt in between two fingers and sniffing it. “You smell like you are a walking deodorant. Did you really want to get that dolled up just for me?” The teasing tone of her voice earns her a laugh from him, sitting across from her to take the menu from between her fingertips.

“One of the waitresses here is hot,” Changkyun starts, pointing with his shoulder to his left and indeed, there is someone right there that is—at the very least—a ten on his mental scale. A bit over six feet, the over-the-knees socks looking good on her, displaying the same soccer t-shirt as the men on the game and the ones screaming for them, long hair touching the edge of her shorts. “Do I really smell that strong? I think ladies like it when a guy smells like this.”

“We do,” She says, pushing her weight forward to squint at him. “Rapunzel over there is such your type. You really don’t change.”

“Ah, you know I don’t have a type—” Changkyun has already put the menu down, calling a waiter over and with a raise of his hand they order two individual pizzas, never able to share one without fighting for the last piece.

“You’re what I like to call the ‘book example of a guy’.”

With a cackle, he takes a sip of the Coca Cola he ordered ahead. “How so?”

Crossing her arms over her chest, she spares another glance to the long-haired waitress. “She’s so attractive, for one. Two, you’re a legs guy—and she’s got some pretty strong pair, I may ask for her leg workout.” There is a bit of comedy in her tone, wanting to ease the night as something to enjoy. Two friends having conversations that are not rare for them. “And you have this thing for the ‘two sides of the coin’ girls. That can give you both the innocent look but with some spice.”

“Those are all pretty general things!” Always one to defend his point of view, Changkyun stared at the TV screen and almost like he read her thoughts from earlier, he says: “I’m sure you’ve checked out one of those soccer players.”

“I did,” She admits, shrugging her shoulders before quirking an eyebrow. “But since I’m so secretive about everything, I doubt you’d know which one I liked the most.”

Changkyun continues watching the game for a while longer, his ring-cladded fingers playing with the edge of his bottle of soda, the perspiration clinging to the skin and reddening it when his mind is made up in about a minute. “Son Heungmin.”

Much more knowledgeable on the sport than her, the name rolls off his tongue easily and she has to look over her shoulder to catch a glimpse or repetition from the goal he just scored. And indeed, shown in the screen in high definition is the man that she had deemed as attractive earlier, only studying his expression while playing, the layers of sweat on his face doing nothing to conceal the clear beauty of him. “Maybe…” But the way she bites on her bottom lip has Changkyun clapping his hands and pointing at her as he cackles.

“I knew it!”

“How?” Suddenly interested, she asks him. Changkyun leans back on his seat, quirking a smile up.

“Wouldn’t you wanna know, love?” He sings, only to have her kicking his shin from under the table.

“Tell me.”

“No.”

“Changkyun—” Whining, she continues. “Please, I need to know how you guessed that.”

Relenting takes a few minutes and only after a lot of insistence and when the food gets to their table, Changkyun finally surrenders. His mouth is already muffled with a big bite of his pepperoni pizza when his theory is spoken into the easygoing air in between them. “I based it off something you once told me,” His cheeks are dusted in pink thanks to his laughter, his lips coated in grease while the cheese parts ways with his slice, chewy in just the way they like it. “He has good hair, and styles it exactly how you like it.”

Hair? She doesn’t recall ever talking about hair, frowning deeply when she shakes her head. “I never said that…when? What? I never said that!” That doesn’t mean it is not true. While it is not the first thing she notices, nor is it a deal breaker, she loves a good hairstyle on men.

“You so did, I remember.”

“When?” She whispers, trying to recall one of the drunken nights in which they would speak about various matters, but her thinking is cut to an end when Changkyun says—

“You said that once when we were dating.”

Oh, the one-week-trial that they had, of course it had been at that time. While recalling if Changkyun ever dolled his hair up that way while they were together, her mind makes out the image of a younger version of him laying by her side, her fingers trailing over his jaw and to his hair, gripping the thick strands that had been styled back, playing with the soft hairs that had slipped the hairdo and feeling the soft sigh that had left his lips at the time. Changkyun is one good of a kisser, but the memory comes to her because she doesn’t think she has ever seen Changkyun that dolled up around her since then. “Oh, right! We made out once because you had styled your hair like that.”

He shrugs, taking a bite of his pizza. “I got what I wanted, and ever since then I just knew that you loved hair like that. Without knowing, but you do.”

With a chuckle, she pours some sauce on top of her pizza, not putting it up to her lips until after she spoke. “You should style it like that more often.”

“So we can make out?”

“No! Gross!” But the tone of her voice is a bit too high. He may not have noticed it, neither does she think it is that important, because she knows that something like a relationship with Changkyun just wouldn’t end well. “Tomorrow you should do your hair like that. After all, we should be elegant when meeting these people…and we want to make the best impression.”

“That’s not a bad idea, actually.” He answers, pointing his chin towards the waitress. “Do you think she would like it?”

“I think she is way over your league.” She sarcastically adds, only to have Changkyun throwing one of the slices of pepperoni to her face.

“You’re such an asshole sometimes.” Changkyun finishes, only to have her doubling in laughter and throwing her head back.

Absentmindedly, she may have known that Changkyun was getting that number on the end…and that, of course, the waitress would send a smile his way in hopes of seeing him again. It is exactly what happens, the reason as to why she stands on the sides and watches him grow away from when they were twenty, from that one-week-trial that should not mean anything, and it never did.

###

This part of town is unknown to her, far too pretty to ever match her small neighborhood and her equally as tiny group of friends. The cars that pass by Changkyun’s seem to be fresh out of the shop, doors opened by buttons, the big wheels not once turning, looking as though they have not been used—ever. The houses, not to be spoken about, are on the hills far away. Mansions that are separated from each other, probably some pools to match the unnecessarily immense glassed windows. This is the way, Kwon said when giving them the address, but the more she nears the offices in which they are supposed to meet in, the more scared she feels.

Kwon would have made her feel more at ease, but the man beside her is equally as nervous, deep in thought and not once reciting the words to his favorite song of the month. Instead of paying attention to Changkyun, she plays with the edge of the skirt Jiyoung had given her. A sixties moment, she had called the flared skirt, dots on it scattering in delicate pieces, black and white to match the red of her shirt, snug to her body, long sleeved, paired with a necklace that screams faux. Probably a gift from some relative, if she can remember correctly.

It doesn’t feel better when getting out of Changkyun’s old Toyota, the sun touching their skins, the wind too strong as they move accordingly to the guide that they have been assigned. Buildings too tall, not differentiated by color but in a strong beige instead, almost caressing a shade of orange. The guide speaks and speaks, rambles too much and all she can think about is the expanse of the person in front of her, Changkyun, who had styled his hair exactly like that one night in their twenties, and while no romance was held in her heart, her hand extended to interlock with his.

Dropping his voice to a mere dance of his tongue, he speaks near her ear when she keeps up with his steps. “What’s going on?”

“I’m about to shit my pants.”

“Skirt.”

“Same thing,” She replies, selling a smile to the guide that looks over her shoulder to look at them. When opening one of the doors, her grip on Changkyun’s hand grows so strong that the rings on his fingers dig into her skin, breathing closely to his face, his lips parted when she says: “Don’t let go of my hand, please. I may pass out if I ruin this opportunity for us.”

And with the certainty of a man much older than him, Changkyun answers with a simple: “I won’t.”

These producers that Kwon had spoken about as the highest beings in the world are nothing but wolves, she realizes when she meets them. A screenwriter is there, as well as some director that she recognizes but Changkyun plays off as if he does, unknown to her best friend. The meeting room welcomes such few people in a big table, copies of the contracts given to the lawyers that had been waiting for them, and the lawyers of the company themselves. The host, the producer in this case, speaks with such mightiness, going over the most important parts that sound amazing. They sound as if they were taken out of a movie, quite literally.

Her hand is cramped, a bit sweaty, but still being held by Changkyun. Seated by her side with his black button down and some trousers, Changkyun has crossed one leg over the other and has let her own rest in between his thighs, near his knees. The contract is brought closer to his face, studying it with intent, while she tries to concentrate on her own. Instead, she looks at the director, then listens to the movies they mention, feeling as though her heart is about to burst with the excitement and awestruck of being given an opportunity.

Her own chance to shine—and not alone.

The producer, Byungho, stops in his tracks right in front of his seat, hands expanded over the black table when he points at the last part of the contract. “My lawyers can explain this last clause in further detail, but I personally asked for this one to be highlighted after Kwon gave me the pleasure of watching some of Changkyun’s performances from his days in university.”

Her best friend stops his ministrations, finally uncovering his face to the people at the table by lowering the contract down. His fingers untighten and had it not been for her, he would have let go of her hand when he leans forward and says a confused: “Pardon?”

“Kwon said you were an actor back in university, too. Never took it too seriously, but when I saw the talent you had—” Byungho stares at Changkyun dreamily, bills painted in his eyes to worship money. “I just knew you had the talent to be the main character of this movie.”

“Ah, Mr. Jo—”

One of the lawyers speaks then, a woman with a heavenly voice and a set of long lashes behind her glasses. “If I can further explain Mr. Jo’s intentions…he was not planning to originally have one of the scriptwriters as an actor, but Mr. Lee Kwon insisted. After watching the recordings, Mr. Jo concluded that it would be a revolution of the cinematography era to have one of the writers acting out the scene. Less complex, more understandable, raw and hardworking in a way. It’d be a story that magazines would love to talk about—give the press something to bite into and you can bet your movie will be a hit.”

At the presence of Changkyun’s silence, she speaks up for him. This opportunity shall not be dismissed, much less when Changkyun does have that talent for acting—one that he often only uses for one scene or another when preparing the theater students. “That idea sounds great. I think Changkyun could do justice to our troubled main character, as well as his features being able to fit into the physical portion of the character.��

“There is a catch, though.” The lawyer says, standing up and rounding the table, her arm resting under her crooked elbow. “It would be unbeneficial to this plan for us to just say…Changkyun and his friend wrote the script, because we’re looking to build an acting career here, but only for one.”

“That’s okay, I don’t want to be in the movie—”

“But the credibility of Changkyun as a mastermind or a hidden talent of both worlds, writing and acting, would be lost if we have you in the credits.” The lawyer finishes, leaving her astounded at what she is trying to hint at. Not being in the credits? “We offer you money for your work, of course, but you’re not going to be displayed in the credits, neither will you get any kind of exposure. We want Changkyun to have that light…since he’s the actor we want, of course.”

“That’s the only thing I ask for.” Mr. Jo says, his hand coming forward to pat Changkyun’s hand. “Think about it, son. We’d make you a superstar in a second, and we just need…that rawness. The public does not want scripted celebrities anymore, they want thinking beings. Woke individuals, one would say.”

Changkyun’s neck extends, looking towards the ceiling and his blank yet pensive stare is enough to break her heart. That dream that she had fought so hard to have is being given entirely to Changkyun, and while her movie would be on the big screen…she’d never get to see her name on it. In a way, she’d have to be that one woman that everyone would think is a liar when speaking about her experience with the famous actor and screenwriter Im Changkyun. “We’d have to see if she’s okay with it.”

“Kyun,” She whispers, only connecting their gazes when his head lolls to the side. “…Are you okay with this?”

“It’s what I’ve always wanted,” He starts, and the weight of those words reminds her of the little plays they would have at school…or how Changkyun had been the one to have the initial idea, one that she had added herself into just because she had always thought they’d be the perfect Gemini. Two sides. One coin. But it is not always like that, holding him there, she realizes that there is so much more to Changkyun than just being her half. “But I’m not doing it if you are not okay with it.”

All eyes are on her, and the lawyer dares to prick at her recently opened wound with a comment. “Come on, it’s a lot of money if you think about it—and people in the industry will know that you had something to do with Changkyun. I am sure you’ll get a second chance.”

“But Changkyun just has one chance.” Mr. Jo pushes, patting his hand against the table. “So, I want an answer. Yes or no?”

The tip of her tongue comes wet her lips, swallowing thickly when she closes her eyes and lets go of Changkyun’s hand. The star, one bigger than she could ever be, the one rising celebrity that she needs to feel proud of. Some friends just deserve that much. The slip is almost symbolic, as if for the first time since she was around twelve to thirteen years old, Changkyun doesn’t need her…and she has to stop needing him. “I think I’m willing to do that for him.” She answers, opening her eyes to see the big smile on Mr. Jo’s face. “I’ll settle for the payment and an invite to the recordings, of course. I’d love to see him play that character that we’ve worked so hard for.”

We have.

We.

Changkyun and her are no longer a ‘we’.

“Thank you.” Changkyun says, sending a smile her way before turning to the wolves, the ones that are taking him in and making him one of their own, but eating at the flesh of her biggest insecurities. “We’ve got a deal, then. Where do we sign?”

The shivering of her hands scares her, her heart racing and pumping so harshly that it almost feels like she may die at that time. Why is it that it bothers her so much when she’ll have a big amount of money and the happiness of her best friend? The question roams her head when she watches the ink splay on the piece of paper, letting go of her dream to give it entirely to Changkyun.

His first chance and her last.

###

“Changkyun!”

Silence follows the call of his name and just when she uses her key to open his apartment’s door, her shoes knock against an empty box. The sound startles her, bringing one hand to her chest to look at the rest of the boxes sprawled on the flooring. One month of not going to his apartment and he’s already changed everything?

“Kyun! What are all these boxes for?” She asks, moving further into the room when hearing a shout of her name, somewhat excited with a screech at the end. The thought of seeing Changkyun again after a month of preparations for the movie shoot brings a sense of tranquility to her chest, only breathing properly again when Changkyun skips a few steps when getting out of his room, not knocking a few boxes over in the process, but greeting her with a half-hearted hug instead.

“You finally decided to visit your old ass friend!” Changkyun announces, sounding a little too much like something Kwon would say—and she would know, because this past month she has found more companionship in Jiyoung and Kwon than she has done on Changkyun. Something about script-reading and acting classes must be taking too much time on his agenda. “Just in time to help me move out.”

Time freezes at that moment, but it really doesn’t. Instead, she paralyzes herself like a picture as she watches Changkyun write ‘clothes’ on a box before taping it securely with quick motions. This apartment has been Changkyun’s home since he was around twenty-two, when he decided that roommates were not his thing and he was in that time of his life where hooking up needed to be more private and mature. Nonetheless, the single-man home never lost its meaning, the pictures of his friends that must be saved in some box and the scent of him that is now changed for the smell of old and dusty furniture. “M—Moving out?” She asks, taking a seat on the plastic-bag covered couch and extending her hands when hearing the rustle. “Since when are you moving out?

“If you had visited me, you would have known.”

And there he goes with that same bullshit again, the smile on his face irking her because she had visited him, just that he was not there or he was occupied at the time, and whenever they texted—often, to be exact—, he had never mentioned moving out. “Stop with that, I did visit you. A bunch of times, but you were either asleep or out.”

Changkyun tilts his head to the side at that, quirking up the corner of his mouth in confusion. “I was?”

“You were,” She adds, placing her hand over his after standing up, stopping him from closing another box with duct-tape. “And you could’ve told me through text. Also, why are you moving? I thought you told me you wouldn’t be moving out any time soon even as I was looking for an apartment.” It still takes a toll on her to find the perfect home and leaving Jiyoung in this time in which she spends less time with her friend—and her partner in class that is no longer working at the school—is almost impossible. Heart-wrenching, if anything.

“This new place is huge, and closer to the recording studio. I managed to pay it with a bit of my payment, nothing crazy.” Changkyun concludes, continuing his ministrations with the boxes. “And I am sorry if I didn’t tell you, but the moving truck will be here anytime soon and I would really appreciate it if you helped me.”

She does as he says, sadly this is what she has come to, believing that Changkyun needs to grow and become more of the man he has always wanted to be, and if she has to be in the sidelines for it, she will—but not without complaining. “Changkyun, this is not about me, this is about you. You’re almost never around and when you are, we don’t hang out anymore.”

Carrying one of the boxes, his delicate muscles popping out with the action, Changkyun answers as he moves towards the door. “I’m just busy.”

“I get it but—”

“You’re not getting it. You’re using that tone on me.”

“What tone?”

Changkyun may not be angered, face stoic when he returns to his actions of finishing with packing, but her blood starts to boil when he continues speaking. “The tone you use when you’re being petty. I just have more responsibilities than hanging out at the moment.”

“Oh, hanging out with me.” She tells him, correcting him when he tries to move towards the door, and she realizes that her grip on the duct-tape he had given her becomes stronger. “I don’t see you having any issues to hang out with your little cast, because they’re famous and that’s all you fucking wanted—”

“What?!” Changkyun asks, his voice rising when he hears the sound of her voice, and he finally spares her a glance when he stops working on the boxes and pays attention to her. His steps are slow when he nears her, as if he is afraid he cannot tame the beast that now exists thanks to betrayal, envy, or abandonment. She doesn’t know which. “I have to hang out with my cast because I will spend the next few months recording with them, and I don’t want to be the weak link. This is not about me wanting anything, you’re still as much as my friend as the first day.”

“Then, why doesn’t it feel like it?”

“Because you’re clinging to material things, it’s like you’re missing someone when I am right here!” Changkyun announces, taking her by the shoulders to shake her out of her thoughts, and her hands loosen up at the realization of it all. Maybe, nostalgia had played with her—she had judged the new version of Changkyun when in reality he had just grown up. He is becoming a successful man, one of pride, with stars in his eyes and zeroes in his bank account, with new friends to enjoy and possibly love affairs better than some waitress at their favorite restaurant.

“I do miss you,” She can’t help the softness of her tone when her arms wrap around his waist and her head rests on top of his shoulder. “I’m just afraid that you’re going to stop talking to me or something. If you do that—”

“I won’t.” Changkyun tells her, holding her with delicacy, taking one of the pieces of duct-tape in between his fingers and sticking it to her hair, earning a well-deserved smack and laughter from her. “I can promise that much. I may be moving, but this apartment is not who I am. That job I had at the school? That’s not who I am. I’m your friend, and that you have to be sure of.”

With those promises she clings to Changkyun again, happy to have her friend even when it is a new version of him. Perhaps, this may be a push for her to finally continue with her life and stop depending on other people. When seeing the apartment rid of all the utilities, she realizes how many memories she had there—but maybe, she will make more of those in Changkyun’s new home. Pushed to the back are the days in which she would wake Changkyun up, or when they would watch movies while seated on that old couch.

Because Changkyun is the person beside her, not the memories that she clings onto.

###

“Party at my place tomorrow. 9pm. You’re invited.”

Reading that text, she knows Changkyun must have mass-sent it. Not surprising, three months into his little stardom life and Changkyun had more friends than she could ever count. More than when he was in university and the word had spread around about how much of a cool guy he was, but money and importance must have taken some part on it, as well as connections. Something more interesting, he must have found, in the apartment that is far too huge for her—yet to small to have her around, or in the groups of people that he is now clinging onto.

In a miniscule second, she really does think of not going. Changkyun, this one that exists right now, is just too busy for her to tag along to a party that will have too many people all gathered together thanks to him. But then, when looking up at the ceiling of her own room, now completely alone in a place that looks like a shoebox in comparison to Changkyun’s, her mind trails until her eyes are landing on the picture by her bedside table. Framed. Two best friends from when she was sixteen, wearing uniforms that were loose on their bodies, big smiles on their faces as they held each other with the beauty of naivety and youth.

That is the friend that she has tried to reach out for in the past few months and while she has not been able to voice it out, far too afraid of losing the little minutes that are given to them when talking on the phone, she has wanted to. Scream at him? Maybe, that is something that has passed her head a few times, when she suddenly sees Changkyun in pictures on the internet, articles read about him…and there is this sense of pompousness that comes with his silence that does not settle well on her stomach. Sealed are his lips, just like his feet at the floor, unable to move to where she is, but definitely willing to go around with his group of famous friends.

The bass vibrates through her body when she enters the apartment—being honest, it may be bigger than some people’s houses—. A nice set of stairs that are chic and gray, the railings made out of silver and glass, matching the spacious windows that she has always complained about (sue her, they may be perfect for interior designing, but for someone who has lived in poor neighborhoods, they just call out robbers). The white walls do not hold lights to indicate a party to be exact, but the atmosphere is enough to make it feel more expensive than a club, but not far away from its recklessness. People there are begging to have a good time, some at the terrace in the apartment, others in the center of the room and some at the kitchen doing body shots, from what she can guess from the cheering and the small glimpse she had of two people making out on top of Changkyun’s counter.

Kwon is by her side, thankfully. She would have probably run away in fear at the rich people around her, but his hand settles on her waist, laughing joyfully at the image in front of him. It may have been a while for him—after going to Paris, he settled on working on perfecting his craft as a designer and moving out of that huge mansion bought by his ex-boyfriend, he moved somewhere else. Tranquil, away from the party lifestyle he oh-so-bluntly misses.

Not drunk like the last time she saw him partying, Kwon has styled his hair back, a few pins placed in his hair to match the button down that he had picked to color-contrast with her dress. Yellow and red, made to stand out. “Whew, I’ve been to parties like these before.” Kwon says, moving her along the groups of people and sending some waves to a few of them.

“Are they bad?”

“Well, I wouldn’t really say they’re bad. The last time I was in one of those typical rich people’s parties, I ended up having a threesome at three at the morning. Commemorative, you know.” Kwon speaks with facility, talking about those memories that have her laughing sometimes. If he ever gets to the day of his oldest days, he will surely have stories to tell the younger generation. “They’re even worse than normal parties. You see, most people here have access to anything they want, so why not use it to their favor when partying?”

That may be more interesting to Changkyun than their usual movie nights and their talks about cinematography. Hell, even more important than planning some high school students’ prom as a theater teacher. When they reach the small bar, cramped in between a few groups of people, she juts out her bottom lip as Kwon orders. Whatever cocktail he chooses to have is heaven in a cup, a man of nice tastes. “…Oh hell, tell me why I am not surprised that you were in a threesome.”

“Because no one would be surprised to know I was in a threesome,” Kwon clinks his martini with her, the taste caressing the back of her tongue, letting it simmer before pushing it down. The drink may help her ease into this night. “But you know…just a heads up, parties like these get crazy.”

Worry settles over her, and she doesn’t know why. Changkyun is fully capable of taking care of himself—an adult, he is, for fuck’s sake, but something inside her heart just tells him to keep him away from such a world. As in she doesn’t trust anyone in that room, all strangers that appeared in the blink of an eye. “One question,” She takes a sip of her drink. “And don’t call me dumb for it.”

Kwon lets his weight kneel against the counter, licking the edge of the cocktail before scoffing. “Depends on what you’re about to ask, love.”

“Kwon!”

“What? I just know that I’m bound to call you dumb if you ask something stupid, that’s all!”

With a shaky sigh, she looks down at the drink on her hand. The only reason as to why she is there is to prove a point—that she can, also, join this life that Changkyun is now part of. The other reason reads on the fact that she hasn’t seen Changkyun in well over a few weeks, and even then, the greetings were short, the conversations even duller. “Why does Changkyun prefer all these strangers over me?”

Something that characterizes Kwon is that he is so unfathomably himself that she just knows every word that leaves his lips is the truth. For a moment, his innocent expression lets his smile drop little by little, inspecting her features before downing the rest of his drink, barely a hiss coming soon after. “Because he has a chance that he’s never had, but all these years he’s always had you.” Kwon answers, as if it was that simple to comprehend, interlocking his hands and keeping his elbows upright. “And it’s your choice to feel betrayed, but Changkyun is just trying something different out. You two have been glued by the waist ever since you were like…I’d say fourteen? I think he just needs some space.”

“He’s having a whole universe, sometimes he doesn’t even talk to me.” She plays around with the word ‘space’, rolling her eyes and taking another gulp of her drink. “Look at this! We got here and he’s nowhere in sight.”

“Or we just aren’t where he is,” Kwon replies, taking her hand in his and once again using his own body as shelter for her, the fabric of her tight yellow dress making it a bit comfortable for her to walk without it riding up. So much for Kwon giving her something to match him just to fit in. Expensive, it may look, but it sure as hell is uncomfortable and too shiny for her taste. “He must be somewhere around here. It doesn’t seem like people are fucking upstairs at this hour, it’s only ten.”

Sighing deeply, she tilts her head back. “I think I should just let him be, he probably—”

“Changkyun!”

Looking over Kwon’s shoulder, grasping the man’s forearms in the progress, she watches the man that he had just called. His hair is not pushed back, but definitely done a mess, a bottle of beer dangling from his right hand, his other fingertips letting go of the waist of a woman right beside him. A few buttons of his shirt were open, the glimpse of a choker around his neck shown when he moved—but it was made out of gold, and she doesn’t even want to question how much he spent on it. Not to be misunderstood, because the smile he sends to his two old friends shine brighter than the chandeliers on top of them, moving over to grasp Kwon’s shoulders in a tight hug.

“You’ve made it!” The happiness of his tone has her moving away from Kwon, looking at Changkyun with expectation in her eyes. With the alcohol dense in his breath, he pulls away from their mutual friend—now more of her friend than his—to beam at her. His fingers carefully rub at her cheek, pinching it in the process with a lift to his tone. “Oh, and you’re here, too. I think I’m seeing a ghost; I haven’t seen you in so long.”

But that may be partially his fault, if not entirely. “Likewise, Changkyun.” She replies, going over to wrap her arm around his waist to receive a hug, but two taps on her back reminds her of her distance in between the two, only pushed further when Changkyun looks over his shoulder to his new catch, sending a smile her way. “Mhm, I’m supposing Rapunzel is forgotten.”

Changkyun stops looking at his girl, from the longish legs in the high waisted and expensive blue pants, to the marvelous white top paired with a fur coat and short hair. Chic, styled straight and in a dark color, matching her cat-like stare. “Who?” He asks after humming, and Kwon shows equal interest.

“Rapunzel, the waitress.”

“Ah!” Changkyun parts his lips, laughing in response. “Over it. Now I have Hana.” The glint in his eyes reminds her of the time in which his mischief would take the best of him, but now that he is using it with people that she doesn’t fully like, neither does she think that they like the real Changkyun, she bites back.

“Hana? More like Cruella de Vil, I’m sure an animal died just to have that coat on her.” Trying to suppress his laughter, Kwon doubles over beside her and she takes this moment to take the last sip of her drink.

“You don’t like her?”

“You’ve done better.” She retorts, quirking a styled eyebrow at him.

With a whine, he responds. “Who?”

Me. She wants to say, but instead she shrugs her shoulders, the fabric of her dress hugging her arms tightly. “Not saying.” She answers, licking the inside of her cheek before pointing her chin at her. “Introduce her to me.”

With an ounce of hesitation, Changkyun spares a look in between the two, soon after going over to where Cruella de Vil was standing. Pushing her chest forward, the little bit of classiness that she possesses comes through when the sound of sweet laughter fills the air. Now from up close, she can realize the beauty of Hana and the image of her clicks in her mind well. The loved actress on the rise, star of romantic movies, that push of comedy coming to her easily. For someone who looks so pompous in real life, her movies are to die for.

“Isn’t this Changkyun’s best friend?” Hana asks with delight, leaning down to grasp her hand in a tight grip and the action alone has her pushing her lips together. Something about that smile screams jealousy, perhaps it is a spray Hana is trying to use against her to keep her away from him. “I have not stopped hearing about you. You’re in all of Kyun’s stories.”

“Well, that’s what happens when you know someone for years. You just have…more story.” The sound of her voice shouldn’t have been quite as pointy, but the bite on her tone surprised her.

Hana tilts her head to the side, her long earrings almost tangling with her perfectly styled hair. “I don’t know. Some memories can be made in a shorter time.”

“I suppose—”

“One night is enough.” Hana says it with an innocent tone, ending with a giggle that has her smiling tightly. She tries to suppress the frown on her features by interlocking her hands behind her back, joining in the laughter that Hana has created.

“I suppose,” She repeats, still smiling forcefully. “Ah, I’m a big fan of your work. Changkyun did not tell me that you two were seeing each other.”

“It’s fairly recent,” Changkyun explains, sparing a glance to Hana before resting his hand on her waist. Her eyes go from the mere touch to Changkyun’s eyes studying Hana’s expression, and her blood boils for a reason. Changkyun has had girlfriends after her, plenty, as well as various friends with benefits and a few dates, but something about Hana makes her fear about a future Changkyun may have, one that doesn’t include her. “But…we met thanks to an interview. We’ll see how this goes.”

“Well, I’m so happy for you two.” Her feet move back and forth, unable to stay in one place, and Kwon remains silent by her side, perhaps feeling the tension in the air. “…Not so happy about the animal you’re wearing on your shoulders, though. Someone died just in the name of fashion.”

Hana pushes the fabric up on her shoulders, scrunching up her small nose. “It’s just—You know, yes, it’s not a good choice of clothing but—”

“Doesn’t matter. Anything you wear looks perfect,” Defeated by not even being able to spend time with her best friend, taken away by some woman that he has only gotten to know recently, she takes Kwon by the arm and drags him along with her as she says her goodbyes. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Hana, but I really just came here to get drunk and have a good time, so I’m going to do just that.”

“Wait—” Changkyun starts, but the sound is drowned the more she moves towards the terrace, away from the couple.

Or couple-to-be. Whatever.

The terrace is not as spacious, a table of ping pong right in the middle, a few people crowded together with smoke blown into the air and the smell of alcohol thick. Even as she is walking, she feels as though she has stepped on a puddle of beer—or she hopes that is beer—. Though, her heart is going a mile per minute, looking for the answers as to why her ears are heated and her head is enraged.

Misplaced anger, it may be, at herself for a reason. Changkyun, growing from himself, has done nothing but live his life and she has stayed on the side, watching like a hawk ready to take a prey. Never had she imagined that a villain would be made out of her heart, for her best friend had always been someone sacred to her—but that is what she feels. Hatred, misplacement, a sudden need to be more…to be exactly the kind of people that Changkyun wants to hang around with.

And the kind that Kwon tells her to keep away from.

Colored blue is the bottle of beer that she takes in between her fingers, finding that sense of tranquility within her with the taste of the drink, but her fingers are shaking, Kwon’s voice worrisome as he speaks.

“What was that?” Misunderstood she shall remain, and by the way Kwon widens his eyes and inspects her features, he has no clue about what may be going through her head. “Are you jealous of Changkyun having a fling?”

For a moment, she bites her tongue—because she likes to believe that people understand her, even when she doesn’t capture exactly what she feels. It’s something she hates about her—she asks to be comprehended, but she never makes what bothers her obvious. “I don’t even know,” She admits, staring at the seas of people around them, the cheering people by the ping pong table, some shirtless, others without pieces of their clothing on. “I don’t even know how to explain it.”

Kwon leans back against the railing, taking a beer of his own. “Try.”

When she is alone is when she misses him the most. Now that he has entered the terrace, lifting his pierced eyebrow when he smiles at someone that greets him, she realizes that her best friend is still in there, the only thing missing is that she is not with him. Not clinging to his side as usual, neither is she the first thing that pops inside his head early in the morning. Changkyun no longer needs her, and that may be such a selfish thing to miss. “I’m so fucking angry because—look at him, it is as if he doesn’t miss me!”

“Because he doesn’t,” Kwon says. “I’ve said it already…he has you, why would he miss you?”

“He doesn’t have me all the time—”

“He does,” Kwon answers, shrugging his shoulders and looking forward, towards the people that are now putting on their clothes and messily arranging new cups with alcohol in them. “It has always been something I’ve envied,” His pretentious tone indicates, the honey in it making such a harsh truth feel drunken. “Changkyun has that kind of friend that everyone wants in you. You’re always there for him, you’d drop everything just to see him happy.”

The image of her signing the contract that gave away the rights to her own script had her taking a shaky breath. “…Why does it feel like he would not do the same for me?”

“I like to believe he would.” Kwon finishes and for a moment, she watches Changkyun near them. If it had been him put in her position, one of forgetfulness and complete invisibility, would he have stood still?

In the heat of the moment, she walks towards the table of ping pong, greeting the two guys in front of her. One taller than the other, lanky and a good head over her height, the oversized flannel on his body stylish, too much gel on his hair to uncover tanned skin with some imperfections on his chin, a smile that could blind a light just in the way he sends it towards her.

“What’s this game about?”

“Stripping beer pong.” The shorter one says, earning a bit of a dusted blush from the other man, who chuckles with drunken nature. “You wanna play?”

In retrospect, it has been a while since she has played beer pong, and she is not even that good at it. The only thing she has on her apart from her yellow dress are some socks and a pair of boots, and this may be a loss for her, but one glance at Changkyun sends a rush of competitiveness in between her, as if she wants to prove that she can also be fun. “Yeah, I’m feeling some drinks. If I drink, I don’t have to strip, right?”

“Already thinking you’re going to lose?” The taller one indicates, extending his hand to arrange the bottles on his side of the table. The brown strands of hair are perfectly put, as well as the glisten behind his eyes when he looks up. “It’s simple. If you get the ball inside the cup on this side, I have to drink and strip off something. New rules, just to make it more fun.”

“Huh, so one on one?” She asks, only to have the man in question shaking his head.

“On pairs. It’d be better for you; you only have a dress on.” Something about him is fairly bashful, the tips of his ears reddened and it must be the drunkenness inside of him speaking. “The name’s Changmin. My friend is Hyun. Who you’re playing with?”

Looking over to Kwon, who is already talking to someone—typical of him, really—she finds herself in awe when she feels someone’s presence next to her, a deep voice that she recognizes very well speaking into the colorful air of a party. “Me.”

“Oh, no, no, no—” She starts speaking when looking at Changkyun, pointing her chin towards the door. “Hana is probably waiting for you, just keep being with her.”

“You’re going to end up naked if you play this alone.” Changkyun answers, crossing his arms over his chest while he gets closer to her. For a moment, it feels as though her old friend is back—but the one from university, that had wanted to make sure she was alright after every party they attended to.

“What’s the problem with that?” She retorts. “I’m an adult.”

“You’re my friend.”

“And?”

“I know how mortified you are going to be if you end up losing this.” Changkyun turns around, taking the ball in between the table before looking at Changmin’s eyes. “We start.” That authority in his tone must have indicated that he is mad about something, perhaps her attitude towards him or this unspoken tension in between them, but a swing of his hand he throws the ball directly at one of the cups, smiling a bit to himself.

“I can take perfect care of myself.” She says from her spot, her eyes wandering down when Changmin takes his shirt off, the tattoos on his waist and chest hidden thanks to his flannel. “You know, speaking of…maybe, I should make a move on one of your rich friends.” Not that Changmin is her style, or that she is inherently interested in hooking up with someone today, but if Changkyun can do it…then, so can she.

Changkyun scoffs from his side, speaking lowly when Hyun misses his shot, giving her the ball without much of a thought. “He’s not your type.”

“Hana was not your type.”

“What’s your problem with her?”

“I don’t know her,” And when she throws, she misses the cup, sparing a glance to Changmin who is already looking at her by the time she does so. However, there is more interest on looking at Changkyun when she punctuates her issues. “And I didn’t even know that she was in your life.”

“It’s nothing serious.” Changkyun speaks lowly, taking the ball and throwing it without a care and hence, missing. “When did it become a rule in our friendship to tell you everything and anything I do?”

“Since we started being friends, we’ve always told each other everything.”

“I’ve just been busy.”

The plop of a drink splashing on her has her looking at the culprit, Hyun smirking in delight when getting the point. “Okay, one of you two: drink and strip.” The night is cold, she realizes then, the skin of her thighs presenting little goosebumps at the mere touch of the air. Her fingers wrap around the drink, meaning to own up to it when the red cup is snatched away from her hands and downed in one go by Changkyun, who had already tossed his shirt somewhere on the floor, not caring about the expensiveness of it.

“What a gentleman!” Someone whoops from far away, but her eyes are simply squinted at him, once again repeating the rules of the game, not caring about the outcome but concentrating on the task at hand. A score, and Hyun is the next one to take something off—his pants, since he had already lost his shirt in some previous game.

“Hana is not that important,” Changkyun whispers. “We just fuck and that’s it.”

“Doesn’t seem like that to me.” She tells him, eyeing his face up and down before breathing deeply. “I don’t mind you dating anyone, but you don’t tell me anything anymore. I didn’t know you had met someone called Hana, that’s a wrong start already.”

“I said it’s not that important.”

“It’s important to me!” She says, putting her hands up in the air before looking at the pair in front of them. “But go ahead, I don’t blame you. You prefer people with money, after all, and I’m some stupid fucker with a dress that makes me look like mustard. It’s okay.”

Changkyun tries to continue to speak as the game develops, but the conversation goes dull as he takes pieces of clothing off, only left with his jeans, his jewelry scattered on the table by the time the game is over, all drinks downed on Hyun’s and Changmin’s side. With quickened steps, she returns to where Kwon is, head dizzy and the image of Hana appearing beside Changkyun suddenly becoming the only thing she can see. Her head lulls back, the fresh air touching the skin of her cheeks, the heat clinging to her body in an uncomfortable way.

What he doesn’t notice is that everything has changed, from the moment they met to now—and it was bound to happen, but it gives her whiplash with how fast it was. As the night develops, staying around for the orders of pizza that came soon after and some other drinks, as well as a group of friends that Kwon found in the middle of the dance floor, she waits for a miracle. For some reason, she expects Changkyun to go over to her side, place one hand over her thigh and speak about the most random of things, perhaps catch up on the latest films they have watched on their own, but that doesn’t happen.

The bass is strong when she dances with some strangers—in a moment, she is in Kwon’s arms, in the other she thinks she has danced with Changmin, sharing a cigarette in between the two like she would have done with her best friend, and then she has passed her alcohol limit, finding solace in an empty spot in Changkyun’s couch, away from people as she lays down and lets sleep take over her. Her dreams are a mess, far too forgetful by the time the sunrays appear through those damned windows, annoying her beyond comprehension when she realizes what happened last night.

She talked to Changkyun. Drank. Danced. Smoked. Knocked herself out.

The feeling of a silky fabric running over her thighs makes her open one eye, draping her arm over the other to look down at a familiar button down. Her bones crack when she extends, her eyes inspecting the room when she hears the sizzling of food, the smell of vegetables thick in the air. When her legs decide to move away from the couch, she watches Kwon’s sleeping body on the other couch, arms wrapped around himself…but he is wearing his shirt.

A few steps away makes her scrunch up her nose at the mess, though her head is too dizzy to care about the mess that Changkyun is probably going to have cleaned up for him. Her fingers let themselves knot around the fabric of the button down that had covered her legs when speaking and realization kicks her when she notices whose it was.

Changkyun’s.

The one he took off when playing stripping beer pong.

The sizzling comes from the kitchen and the image of Changkyun making sure she is well covered and making breakfast for her brings a smile up her face. That is the kind of thing her best friend would do. Walking over the rope of hope, she walks towards the kitchen, expecting to see Changkyun with simpler clothing and a pan in between his fingers, but fuck, that is what dreams are made for…not a reality.

Arms that wrap around a small waist, and a similar shirt dropped over Hana’s body, cladding her perfectly. Her hair is put up in a small ponytail, little kisses scattered around her neck and collarbones while she cooks. Changkyun seems to be delighted, fingers pulling her closer until he takes a good scent of her, speaking something against Hana’s skin…unheard, but yet so powerful.

She doesn’t know why this hurts her, because she has seen Changkyun be with other women. This should not be news, but something about the entire replacement of her in every way drops at her stomach harshly, to the point she clears her throat to call out for their attention.

Changkyun pulls away from Hana, smiling at her when he takes the shirt from her hands. “Good morning!” He cheers, clearly in a good mood, if the lipstick stains on his neck are something to go by and the messy hair are indicators of his late morning activities. “You passed out on my couch. Had a great night partying?”

As if they had not spoken at all, he acts. Perhaps, he doesn’t really care about the tension in between the two—he thinks that some nice actions are going to save him, and the worst part? They might have had she not seen this. “Yeah. Kind of.”

“I’ve made tea for the hangover.” Hana points out from her spot, her manicured hands signaling the teapot somewhere in the kitchen. “It’s my magic potion. Been there, done that, girl. I’m sure you’ll love it.”

Before she could deny, Changkyun is already pouring a cup for her, but she stops him by placing her hands over his. “Put it in a plastic cup. I’ll be out the door in a minute.”

“Why?” Changkyun asks, his faint smile dropping when looking at her. “Listen, I know you must feel bad because you drank a lot last night and you were cranky but—”

“Kyun—” She closes her eyes, correcting herself. “Changkyun, I need to leave.”

“But why?”

“I need to get rid of this headache and go over some scripts I asked the students to write.” She’s coming up with whatever excuse appears in her head, taking Changkyun’s place and accepting the nice smelling tea when pouring it inside a plastic cup, one of those that had been used for alcohol last night.

“So, you’re not staying for breakfast?” Changkyun asks while he goes behind her, her fingers already hooking around Kwon’s hand to wake him up, speaking his name softly to help herself out.

Just when Kwon opens his eyes groggily, she answers. “We’re not staying for breakfast. I’m going to use Kwon’s car to drive him home and I’m going to get him to sleep comfortably. His back must be killing him.”

Kwon doesn’t say much, simply trails after her towards the door, but Changkyun speaks loud enough for the two of them to hear. “You’re lying to me.”

She stops on her tracks, clutching at the end of her dress when she stutters out a: “I—I’m not.”

“I know when you’re lying to me.”

Does he even know her at all?

“But I’m not.” She answers, looking over her shoulder before sending a wave at him. “Bye, K—Changkyun.”

###

You see, Changkyun is not the only person she misses in her life. Though a bit out there, definitely louder than a normal person, and as clingy as it can get, Jiyoung is one of her closest friends. With the lack of a male best friend that sits down with her and watches the matutine news or a dumb reality show, she is left to enjoy more time with another woman. Jiyoung, for example, had insisted on bleaching her hair even more, the color far lighter and her hair much drier, but the smile on her face is as welcoming as ever as she lays her head down on her shoulder and looks at the screen in front of them.

Jiyoung changes the channels too much, and even though she hasn’t seen Changkyun in well over a month again, through her texts she can feel as though he is still the same about his tastes in TV watching and shows. Something about inspecting everything and picking just the right thing is something that exudes his energy, but Jiyoung is quite the opposite. Settling on some stardom interview show just because she thinks the host is hot? That’s something Jiyoung does.

Her old place is as intact as ever, and she wishes she had the strength to erase the image of Changkyun from her brain. When in front of him, she can act as though she is tough, as if she doesn’t care that he doesn’t have time for her anymore, but give her a phone and those blinking three dots that indicate that he is texting her and she is head over heels, stopping everything she is doing to answer to him.

For a while, she has thought that this is normal—that she just holds onto Changkyun because that is what friends do, but this also reminds her of how different their friendship is now. She gives, he takes, and she never receives. He prefers cities with angels, diamonds with brightness, words of intelligence and people who speak too much about themselves. That was his dream, he always said it, their friendship would be better if only they could make their dreams come true, make money out of something they love.

So why is it that when he appears on the screen, being interviewed for his new movie about the release in a few months from now, she feels as though she is living a nightmare instead of a dream?

Changkyun promised they would be together through their dreams, but that wasn’t the case. His hair is placed in the way she likes it, standing out with clothing that mixes the eighties with something modern. Something about his face is a beauty of the sixties, a young thing ready to take over the world. His voice drops more than usual, there is an air of knowledge to him, and he seems less excited than she would have imagined him to be. He thinks that he belongs there, and strangely enough, he does.

Maybe, she had imagined that Changkyun would be different…and he was just like everyone else. With pain inside her heart, she brings her fingers up to press on the remote, turning off the TV with quickened motions. The black screen showcases her reflection, uneven breaths and shaking shoulders, a face that reads turmoil accompanied by someone by her side.

“He’s so lucky.” Jiyoung never sounds this serious, and for a moment she thinks she is speaking about the job that he has been given, the stardom that had accumulated even before his debut as an actor. A pretty face with a creative mind. “Not a lot of people get to have someone love them as much as you love him.”

She loves Changkyun, in the way a friend should love each other, willing to be there for the one that has always taken a part of her heart. This much she knows, making her frown when she looks over at Jiyoung. “Of course I love him, he’s my friend.”

“No,” Jiyoung chuckles, tucking a strand of her almost white hair behind her ear. “I like Changkyun. I’d love to have him as a lover, but…you love that guy.” Splashed in front of her are the ideas that Jiyoung has, but the attraction she once felt for Changkyun cannot be appearing again, much less can it be translated into something like romantic love. That has never existed for them. “You stay, and you’re patient for him. Your eyes get all shiny when he is around, and you can’t stand seeing him turn into someone else…but you still accept him. That’s love.”

She scoffs, covering her face with both hands as she imagines the first time that she saw Changkyun, and now she pictures the last time that they saw each other, barely there to start with. His name is up in the sky, written for people to read it as stars, but she is not shining with him. “That is lack of dignity, not love.”

“Maybe,” Jiyoung shrugs from her spot, playing with the volume buttons of the remote. “I think it started before this whole actor thing came around.”

“How so?” She asks, half interested in what Jiyoung is saying when she uncovers her face. For some reason, she tries to imagine the romantic point of it—if maybe she had not understood the signs her body had given her, had screamed at her to comprehend over the years, and Jiyoung had the key from a viewpoint of someone that had seen it in a friendly spot.

“You dated, but you finished it off because you didn’t want to lose each other, not because you only considered yourselves friends who wanted to be with each other physically.” Jiyoung, ever the clear one when staring at people, responds. “And you stayed with each other over the years. In a way, I gave up on him because of the connection the two of you had.”

“Really?”

“I didn’t stand a chance.” Jiyoung cackles at her own answer, rubbing her chin in the process. “Changkyun…he always seemed to come back to you. He’d date, go back to spending time with you. He’d fuck someone, go back to you. Even when he was in a serious relationship, he was always with you. I thought that he had caught feelings,”

This time, she looks up at the ceiling and she can’t help but smile at the reminder of their first kiss. Changkyun had done it absentmindedly, moving at the same time that she did and capturing each other on a kiss, soon after came the idea of being together because of loneliness. All she knew for that week was that no one had kissed her quite as softly as Changkyun did, as if he wanted to savor every piece of her, making flavors out of their union. “Why me? Why him? Why us? I doubt—”

“You have to look at it from my way,” Her friend says, running her fingers through her scalp to ease her mind. “You know people are in love when they say each other’s name while staring at the other. That doesn’t happen often, but there is a little breath that is taken whenever the person you love says your name and vice versa.” The caress of his eyes roaming her face when saying her name awakened memories inside her, bringing a flutter to her stomach. Could it be? “It’s cute. You’d look at him and lighten your voice when saying Kyun, and he’d look so in place…in peace when you said it. When I noticed that, I thought I stood no chance.”

She chuckles at Jiyoung’s antics, resting her head against hers as she laughs. “I don’t know…”

“Do you think I’m right?”

For a moment, she ponders on everything that has changed and everything she misses, but the thought of always staying for him keeps being repeated. The world has been painted blue for her, and she still held it on her shoulders—just so he can live inside of it and have a beautiful life. “I may…” She replies, closing her eyes tightly and feeling the back of her throat contracting, feelings bursting from a part of her that had been hidden. A single tear rolls down her cheek when she remembers, and God, nostalgia has always been her weakest point. “All I know is that I don’t want to lose him, and I want to have him all for myself. How it was. How it was in that one week we were together.”

Jiyoung’s fingertips run over the expanse of her cheeks, taking away the tears that had piled in there. “Can’t believe we’re bonding about a man that I wanted to sleep with, and that you love.”

That brings laughter out of her, pouring rain coming from her eyes when her phone rings momentarily, the idea of Changkyun being the one to text her having her hands moving with precision, pulling the device away from the coffee table to look at the screen. A picture taken on the night before she lost him, in that restaurant where they had talked about their types and their dreams, and the light in her eyes was different from the dulling tone she has now, seeing that it is a message from a fellow teacher.

She just wants her best friend back.

Even if it’s to love him in silence.

###

Chasing after a dream of wealth, success, fame had been what had united them. As long as it’s not what separates them, the dream still stands.

Last summer, that thought had passed her head. This summer, she can say while being in Changkyun’s arms that she had never felt quite as separated from him as that moment.

Even when the windows are big in Changkyun’s room as well, the birds chirping outside cannot take her mind away from the movie that is being displayed on the screen for them to see. Theirs. The one script that had come to life only one year after they finished it. His fluffy and brown blankets are brought up to her jaw, her head resting on his shoulder while his back is placed against the bedframe. She doesn’t spare a look at Changkyun, but he is silent, perhaps judging himself or enjoying certain lines he said—but she has finally come to the conclusion that Changkyun’s future was always meant to shine with the stairs.

He deserves this, she realizes. The big apartment, the too-cold air conditioner, the birds singing only for him and the people that go around him, the fanbase that is growing slowly but surely. All of those he had worked hard for, and all she had done was give him the opportunity to live such a beautiful life. Their character needed to be portrayed by him, all the aches and the beauties of it showcased in his expression. When she wrote it, she never realized Changkyun could convey such emotions, but now…there she is, always coming back to him and now, extremely proud.

Because she is alone with him, watching the credits that read him and not her, and she couldn’t be more tranquil with her decision. Another opportunity may come for her, but for now…Changkyun is the only light that she dares look from up close.

“I think it’s cringy to watch myself act,” Changkyun says, his voice deep after turning off the device and twisting to his side. Months ago, Jiyoung and herself had spoken about the possibilities of loving Changkyun, and with him by her side she can confirm that it may be a reality. All these months, their meetings had been brief and non-substantial, but when she has him like this…it feels like she can reach for him. His laughter is brief, his cheek resting against his fluffy pillow. “I’m surprised you didn’t cry.”

“I kept it in,” She tells him, playing with the loose strands of his hair before sighing deeply. “And don’t cringe. You’ve always been a great actor.”

“I overact.”

“You don’t.” She replies, the sound of the ice in her drink filling the air when one of them drips into water and makes the one at the top fall down on the glass. She had forgotten she was even drinking soda on the first place. “And if you dare say otherwise, I’m going to kick you out of this bed.”

“It’s almost impossible, it’s too big.” Changkyun answers, extending his arms to further prove his point before closing his eyes tightly. It is at this moment, in the softness of the situation, when the coconut scent of his body wash takes over her and has her wrapping her arms around him, caging him in a hug that has almost all of her weight laying down on him. This steals a breath from his lungs, his arms coming around to cage her body when he chuckles softly. “What is it?”

She separates just slightly when she presses a kiss to his shoulder, through the white t-shirt to speak to him. Once again, face to face, she feels like they are at the beginning of this journey, her bottom lip jutting out to stop a cry. “I’m so proud of you and I am so sorry I haven’t shown that lately,” She whispers, her heart weighty because, once again, she seems to have her friend back. “I was afraid I’d lose you…and I felt like I did, so whenever I would see you, I would get…angry.”

His hands trail over her hair, patting it down softly, making sure that every fine hair that stands out is pushed away and down. His brown eyes are chocolate ganache when he stares at her, dewy and dulcet, looking at her with all the sentiments in the world. To name them? She can’t. “I’m never going to leave you.” He whispers. “It may feel like it, but you’re my best friend…”

“I know,” She mumbles back, caressing his jaw with her fingertips, going over the memories of his days of worsened skin, wanting nothing more than to kiss the imperfections into his soul and claim them as loved. “It’s not like you could forget me.”

A nudge to her waist has her laughing after her sentence, Changkyun joining in with ease. “Try being around you for more than ten years. You’re hard to forget.”

“Am I?”

“…Yes.”

“What makes me so memorable?”

“What?”

“You agreed that I’m hard to forget,” She says, pushing her hair to her back before sighing. Insecurity drips from her, something that she has always hated about herself, but when she is over him, barely separated from his face, the air becomes perfect for secrecy. Lovely, even. “What makes me so hard to forget?”

“I will never think about anyone the way I think about you.” Changkyun replies, and it’s such a vague answer that she almost finds herself asking about said thoughts, but the angel wings on him appear the more she looks at his face after those words, a glisten to his eyes that hadn’t been there before. “You’ve loved me as a friend even before all of…this. You gave up your dream for me. No one would do that.”

“I did,” She whispers, leaning down the slightest, breaths mingling together when she nods. “Because I really do love you, Kyun.”

And there it is, the sweetness of it all, the promise of the lack of an ending. Changkyun doesn’t realize it, simply hums in response when he takes her by the back of her neck and in his tone, there are no signs that he claims to know the weight behind those words. “I love you, too.” A love that goes past souls and friendships, one that has him leaning forward until the ghost of a kiss rests on her lips. First, Changkyun lets their skins touch, his lips part just the slightest, a shaky breath given before he kisses her as if he wants to eat her whole. Suddenly, the sky is dancing, the sunrays becoming one with the warmth of her body when Changkyun pushes her further on top of his body, her thighs caging his body to the mattress, the happiness of being kissed by him again returning.

Insomnia takes up on her when his hands work their way down to her waist, gripping softly, subtly, laughing against her lips for the briefest seconds as his body moves to his will.

“…You’re kissing me.” Changkyun throws his head back with a soft gush of breath leaving his mouth. “Are we going back to that one week of dating?”

“We’ll see.” She chuckles, pecking his lips softly before he turns them around. Her hair splays on the pillows, a squeal leaving her lips when his teeth accidentally graze her bottom lip, his body now keeping her against the bed. Her hands twirl around his neck, keeping the dance of their lips when he breathes softly against her skin.

He whispers the beauty of life in his touches, and for a moment, she thinks she has him once again. What a disgrace it is that Im Changkyun is a story that never lets a twist last too long, keeping the side characters as that—and she has become secondary, a day with him could not change that, the feeling of his fingers slotting away from her, because a breath from him is only the touch of a promise that lasts a second.

One week. One second. One lifetime.

What is it with him?

###

Redeemable, whenever she starts something with Changkyun that goes a different way from their usual stream of time, it always seems to last too little.

The hotel in which they are staying in is the complete opposite of packed. Lining the brown and white, tall walls of the hotel are windows with white railings, though that is the least interesting point of its infrastructure. From her position inside the pool, she thinks the most beautiful part of this hotel that Changkyun had boosted about—and for a reason, it’s expensive and breathtaking both at the same time—is that it feels as though she is inside a beach. The water in the pool is not too cold, clear and rich, and when she swims right towards Changkyun, she gets to see the big palm trees, the attention to detail that comes with the faux sand, and of course, she gets to see her best friend, days after that day of watching his movie. Their movie.

His arms are extended on each side of him, chest covered in droplets of water, rising up to inhale, deflating to exhale. His relaxed expression glosses over, listening to the wind moving the trees, his eyes half-lidded as he is immersed in his own thoughts. Only when her fingertips caress his waist, Changkyun snaps out of whatever thought has been clouding his brain.

So like himself, she dares ask him: “What are you thinking about?” Her hair, clinging to her skin, is the least of her worries when she finds her place on his shoulder, pecking the skin with utmost care. Changkyun lets his arm wrap around her waist, the movement of the water calming them into their position.

“Nothing really.” Changkyun replies, lowering his gaze and igniting a flame inside her that makes her feel alive. An ashamed smile appears on her face, one that he returns as if he doesn’t regret the kiss they shared a few days ago, the feeling that now has appeared after a couple of years. “I’m just surprised. You agreed to come here with me.”

“As long as it’s the two of us, I don’t mind where we go.” She answers, turning around to swim away the slightest, the water clashing one against the other, but her eyebrows move the slightest when she feels a few droplets landing on her from above, too tiny to be noticed. “Come here, let’s race.”

“That’s not such a bad idea. Let’s go.” But what surprises her is that Changkyun starts swimming with rapidness, arms extending to move his weight with precision. With widened eyes and a flutter to her chest, she chuckles at his actions, screaming his name at the top of her lungs while moving right behind him.

The pull she has towards him is so strong, and Kwon may be right when he says that she will always be there for him. Changkyun has never lost her, because she had not left for a single second. This that they live is a song that repeats itself, the sweet existence of a lesson that they continuously learn. She will always go back to him to be stronger, to connect to those roots of her that show in the smile he gives her when he wins, back leaning against the tiles of the pool.

She will never forget his face, one that had grown out of his old features, rounded cheeks and thin lips parted as he doubles over, and she joins him. The world doesn’t care to bathe them in rain, goosebumps rising on her arms when she wraps them around his shoulders to plant the seed of a kiss on his lips. To grow from the place in which they are standing, watered by memories. Returning the kiss briefly, Changkyun looks up at the sky before laughing.

“I won!” He says with all the excitement in the world, but she cuts him off as she slips out of the pool, reaching for the towels they had placed on one of the seats nearby.

“Yeah, yeah, let’s get out of here before you get sick.”

With the biggest towel wrapped around both of them, his arms caging her to his chest as he stands behind her, walking after her trail, she thinks that all the things that went wrong were only meant to unite them more. This is a song that she will never forget, the shivering of his body behind her as they leave a trail of water behind her, something that the maids at the expensive hotel will probably complain about as they move through the lobby, both the water from the pool and the rain mixing as they keep laughing the night away.

The lessons she has learned in life have always been tough, and in a way, she blames herself for always staying. In the same job. Almost in the same house with Jiyoung. Always clinging to the past, with ex-boyfriends…and with Changkyun, one of the few people that rarely disappointed her. Maybe, it is because Changkyun never quite forgot her that she stayed, or it was because she knew that she knew she’d never forget him if given the chance.

But with him by her side when they are nearing the elevator, she realizes that her life went wrong a hundred ways, but Changkyun is one of her best decisions. One that life put in her way and she always picked above everything else. Even above her dream.

The sound of his name being called makes him stop on his tracks, the towel almost slipping from her shoulders, retreating to look at the source of such noise. Seated by the lobby, on the immaculate-looking leather seats, are a group of people drinking from filled glasses of champagne, some with suits, others with dresses—all clearly more dolled up than the two youngest people there, Changkyun and herself.

“Long time no see!” Changkyun greets immediately, wrapping the towel entirely around his body, leaving her only with the small one she had around her waist, almost to shelter her from the prying eyes that had been sent her way when her best friend pulled away from her. Best friend that, if continuing down this path, may become her boyfriend once again.

A few handshakes, some bows, and Changkyun is back at being inspected by the socialites, some with smirks on their faces. For some reason, she feels as though Changkyun is a puppet to them—someone to bend to their will, but she may be just seeing them as villains out of conceptualizations she made inside her head. “I’m guessing the rain caught you and your friend when swimming.”

Changkyun’s chest shakes as he laughs, nodding at those words. “Kind of.”

The oldest looking man of the group takes a sip of his champagne before speaking. “I’m so glad to see you, we’re about to head towards a party right now…and given that your film is doing so great, I think we could introduce you to some people.”

Her body freezes when she hears those words—because a party that night doesn’t sound like a great idea. Changkyun had promised dinner, had spoken wonders about the music he had prepared for them to listen to, the tourism spots they are supposed to be visiting the next day, but Changkyun hums almost immediately. “I’d love to go.”

“I imagine your friend wants to go with you.” The same man concludes, and she wraps her arms around her chest when she is being stared at by the rich individuals in front of her. “I don’t think I’ve heard about you. Are you one of Changkyun’s longtime friends?”

“Yes, sir.” She answers, bowing uncomfortably before taking a breath in.

“It must be a delight to have known him while he was writing the masterpiece that is his movie.”

“Actually, we worked on it together—” The words escape her lips without much thought, but her heart skips a bit when Changkyun turns to look at her, eyes inspecting her expression silently.

“She means that she was there for me as I wrote it.” And there is an apology on his eyes—again, a plea to keep the secret that has given him the life he always wanted. Somewhere, Changkyun grew stronger…and that word is so damned, because he also did not change, just that his dream came true…and there is no more space for her in this world that has captured him.

“Yeah, Changkyun has always been a star in my eyes.” She tells, hoping that the weight of her words reaches him, nearing him with careful steps as she scans his face. Changkyun is not looking ahead but at her instead, and in the way her eyelids keep fluttering, she feels a force behind her ribcage that begs to be released in the form of a sob. So strong, she had been, coming back to him for an entire year, whenever he wanted, never asking for him…but maybe, it is time to leave that behind. “He was built for this world,” She whispers, loud enough for the people in front of them to listen. “And I am so happy he got this opportunity instead of anyone else.”

“Whoa,” One of the women there says. “That is really a friend.”

“Yeah.” She answers, extending her hand towards Changkyun whilst waving her fingertips. “Give me the keys, please. I’m going to grab my things before you go to the party.”

Finally downing the situation in which he is caught in, Changkyun lifts his hand in the air, as if asking for a second from the socialites before moving her to the side, standing right in front of the elevator, she presses the button to call for the elevator, her palm still opened to welcome the keys. “Wait, no. You can go to the party, too—”

“I don’t want to.”

“Why is it that you never integrate yourself into my life?”

Opening her lips in surprise, her hand comes up to cover the sarcastic cackle that leaves her lips, too short to even be coming from a place that does not speak about dread. “Me? Changkyun, I’ve spent an entire year following after your footsteps because you don’t look for me anymore. You don’t need me.” She speaks, not caring that the doors of the elevator open, shivering at the coldness of the lobby. “Do I even know you anymore? Because this is not the person that I had as a friend. I didn’t fall in love with all of…this.” Pointing at him as if he is an outcast, Changkyun shakes his head at her words.

“Hey, no, you’re mistaking it. You know how people will get if someone knows the truth—”

“I’m not asking for fame, Changkyun. I’m asking for my friend, I’m asking for you to settle for something. Do you want me as your girlfriend, your friend? Do you want people to see you around me?” Her voice is too fast, snatching the keys that had been dangling from his hands before sighing. “Changkyun…I’ve had people wreck me. A hundred times. It’s all I’ve known.” Her voice lowers, rubbing at her eyes when the tears start to appear, a shaky breath leaving her.

“Well, sorry for growing up. You gave up your dream for me, it’s not my fault that you don’t want me to live mine when you pushed me to do so.” Changkyun speaks, lowering his voice when his fingers wrap around her wrists to uncover her face.

“You know what? I should’ve expected it the moment you signed that contract that you’d break my heart.” She says, placing her fingers against the button of the elevator again, breaking her gaze from the man that she had given everything for—the one person that accompanied her through every moment of her life, only to abandon her. “And it’s okay, really. Do as you fucking please, but don’t drag me along with it—” Her name is called softly, but she walks inside the elevator, tapping the button uncontrollably as if that will make the doors close quicker. Something rips inside of her, her fingers clutching at her chest when a sob leaves her throat, soft, unheard of, but watched by him. “I’m not coming back to you anymore.”

With the doors closing, she expected him to stop her, but he didn’t. He let her go.

When she picked up her items, caging them in the confines of her bag with tears streaming down her face, she expected to hear raps of knuckles against the door, to have him begging for her to listen to him. He let her go, instead.

And when getting out of the elevator again, cladded in clothing, dry and with her bag in between her fingers, she expected to see Changkyun bothered, at the very least, but he was simply seated in between the socialites, drying himself up with his towel, only sparing her a glance when she appears in front of him, and once again, she feels as though it’s metaphorical. Only when she is in front of him, he remembers the weight of the heartbreak he had caused her.

The keys slip in between his fingertips and that man right there, seated in between the riches, with eyes that glisten as if money were in them, is not the man she knows. That’s not her friend. Not the man she loved. Not the man she stayed for. Yet, as she gets out of that hotel with the silence of him not following after her after so many opportunities to do so, she realizes that it was never his priority to go after her, but hers.

But she’s in love, and maybe she will always be. With this version of Changkyun and the previous one, with the one person that had kissed her soul as if it was supposed to be cherished…

Was that version even real?

#i.m scenarios #i.m #monsta x scenarios #monsta x #kpop scenarios #writing #the anti-love club #monsta x au #monsta x angst #monsta x fluff #i.m au #i.m angst #i.m fluff #last installment!!! which one was your favorite?

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bubblesthemonsterartist · 3 years

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*cracks knuckles* Clearly I’m going straight for the Blackout.

ENJOY, FRIENDS. FOR YOU, I THROW IT UNDER THE CUT

Under 1000 Words

take my burdens (and bury them deep) by @thelionshymnal Rated M Nothing makes me happier than a fic of my favorite BroTP, especially when Obi is offering to disappear Kiki’s dirty dealings. Content warning for attempted sexual assault and Obi doing what he does best: getting rid of the body.

A Fic That Got You Involved In Fandom

Seven Suitors for Shirayuki by @sabraeal Rated T Look. You all are just going to have to accept that there is a certain generation of this fandom that was dragged in, kicking and screaming, by this fic. I wanted to diversify by saying something else managed it, but no. It was the fact that this story was stuck on chapter five for MONTHS that made me vibrate until my own fic fell out. XD

Made You Laugh Out Loud

An Extra Rise Before Dawn by @sabraeal Rated G I don’t often worry that I am going to pee from laughing so hard when I’m reading something, but this one definitely does. In one spot in particular. You might be able to guess it. It is simultaneously an incredible sweet and incredibly funny fic that hits all the right notes for me.

Favorite Trope Reversal

Fussing with Firedrakes by @leewritingrecs Rated T 1) Dragons. 2) Damsel in distress is no damsel and she is NOT in distress thank you very much 3) Kiki is a DRAGON 4) Obi is cursed, and 5) DID I MENTION D R A G O N S ???

Fic That Made You Friends With the Author

The Wide Florida Bay by @sabraeal Rated E I had to think about this because while I read Seven Suitors first, this was the series that made me start sending anons and eventually made me join tumblr where I proceeded to endlessly play the ‘what if’ game with Jen. CLEARLY this is where our friendship was forged.

Action-Packed Fight Scene

Agent, Parts I, II, and III by @infinitelystrangemachinex Rated T Like Jen, I was positively torn, because both Andi and Sarah do fight scenes SO WELL, but Agent ultimately won out because there is just something so delightful about Shirayuki flailing and clinging to Obi like a cat that doesn’t want to go in the bath while arrows zip all around them

Edit: Screw it, I’m reccing them both

Republic of Tanbarun by @claudeng80 Rated T An action adventure series where romance is involved but is by no means the focus. Zen and Obi adventures abound. Politics galore. And some masterfully done slow-motion to quick motion fight scenes that I L O V E D

Gen Fic

Fugue in Three by @infinitelystrangemachinex Rated G Ryuu casually destroys Obi and Shirayuki by breathing as they count down the days until he comes of age. Technically this fic has a romantic pairing, but it is by no means the focus of this fic. If you don’t agree, you are welcome to meet me under the Big Oak between the hours of 12 and 4 for a duel.

Missing Scene

Like Brothers Do by @claudeng80 Rated G Obi is clearly Kiki’s annoying big brother and handles Mitsuhide’s rejection in the best way he knows how. Also read: Mitsuhide gets what’s coming to him. (ง'̀-'́)ง

Canon Divergent

We work at the mall by @kaedix Rated T With how many AUs we got floating around this fandom, I was hard pressed to choose a favorite. But there is just something so sweet and wholesome and American teenager about this. It just latches onto you and never lets go. (Also the gang all work at my favorite places in the mall when I was growing up. What’s not to love?)

Steamiest Kiss

Were Hearts Not An Unknown Country by @sabraeal Rated T LOOK. SOMEONE was going to have to go dig this out of the rubble of her compilation fics and it might as well be me. Also the birthplace of the much loved AnS fandom practice of solstice kissing.

Contains Your Favorite Headcanon

The road to Clarines is Gravel by @codango Rated E Not the focus of the fic as a whole, but like, Torou and Obi are siblings. GALAXY MIND EXPLOSION. I mean, I loved that so much that I wrote a pre-canon fic of this fic. Additional note totally not related to the bingo square: I will ALWAYS be here for positive sex worker representation in fics. Fair warning, though, this is the most unfair AU in existence because the brain screams that it SHOULDN’T WORK and yet by some sort of writerly sorcery, it DOES. PLEASE READ IT IF YOU HAVEN’T ALREADY.

Wept Real Tears

let it make you by @thelionshymnal Rated M It’s not every day that someone manages to write a fic that makes me stare numbly at the very first line for a solid 15 minutes, big fat tears rolling down my cheeks, but Hymn did it. And then she somehow managed to kiss it better. All in 1100 words.

Free Space

AnS Role Swap AU by @owlsshadows Rated M This series has it all. Shirayuki as an assassin. Obi as both a royal bastard and a pharmacist. A mysterious meeting out in the woods where it makes you question whether Nanaki and Obi are two different people or the same. Also Zen having some very conflicted feelings regarding his royal authority and how he can choose to handle rejection.

Edit: Since I’ve already doubled up once, let me double up again, I have so much love to give and not enough space to give it!

Blizzard by @nebluus Rated T This is one of the earliest fics I read in this fandom and it remains to date one of my absolute favorites. Obi gets hurt protecting his Miss and a blizzard rolls in. Thankfully they find a cabin where Obi, who is definitely on his death bed if no one finds them and SOON, proceeds to still fuss over his Miss. Best scene: When he warms her hands with his. Also the second chapter is all sorts of delightful domesticity I IMPLORE you to please read it and soon.

Favorite Fan-Made OC

All Pain Will Turn to Medicine by @sabraeal Rated M All y’all should’ve seen these coming from ten miles out. I fucking LOVE Herr Anda, the cantankerous little bastard. And Jen knows this because she designed him specifically with me in mind. Academic catnap >:|

AU That Made You Find the Source Material

All Knotted Up by @sabraeal Rated G Admittedly, there are a great many AUs out there that made me look up the source material, but this Tangled AU is the most recent because I finally got on Disney+. And yes, Mitsuhide is the horse. Ryuu may be Pascal a little bit, but Mitsuhide. He’s The Horse. XD

First AnS Fic You Read

Loyalty by Evelyn Fiedler Rated K+ (which is basically G on AO3) My one and only ff.net rec from my earliest days in the fandom when I was combing for absolutely any content I could find, begging the fandom to help me decide if I was down for Obiyuki and all that it implied and this author most assuredly delivered.

Favorite Minor Character

Undertow by @jhalya Rated E The fic itself is a space odyssey of sorts. One mission among many where humanity attempts to colonize Mars. However the real selling point here, if you didn’t know, is Lord Seiran. He is a delightfully eccentric billionaire who clearly always wanted a large family, judging from how easily he fills out the adoption paperwork.

WIP

Caulk dirty to me by @leewritingrecs Rated E Have I mentioned I love the sex worker trope? I. Love. The. Sex. Worker. Trope. Also Obi is clearly divine at all of his jobs. Shirayuki already got to experience his skills at one of them. I wait with BAITED BREATH for her to experience the other :3

Canon Compliant

Thicker than Blood by @infinitelystrangemachinex Rated G In the aftermath of the death of King Kain, Izana and Zen must decide on which path they will take moving forward. Amazing fic. Unfinished, but a wonderful look into the dynamics between the Wisteria brothers and their absent mother.

One-Shot

Worth his Weight in Rice by @claudeng80 Rated T AU set in an Edo-adjacent Period where a disease has wiped killed off a significant portion of the male population. Resulting societal shifts occur. If you go into the comments, I have a couple of pages worth of reasons why I love this AU, but what I appreciate even more is how you have an absolutely perfect oneshot in this fic. It is a well-translated universe where we get a delightful clear, beginning, middle, and end, all in 5k. NOT an easy feat. Please enjoy.

Rare Pair

the fog pushing through my mind by @thelionshymnal Rated E Obi/Yuzuri, friends with benefits. Two pining idiots with some sore feelings decide to get stoned and take comfort in another warm body for the night. I just really enjoyed the casual intimacy of the encounter and how this is clearly neither of their first experiences with a one night stand. Neither of them are going to make it weird in the morning, they just need to take the edge off, ya know? Additional bonus for Obi being ready to stab the dumbasses who made Yuzuri feel like she was a weirdo in her past.

AU You Took a Chance On (And Now Love)

Lightning in a Bottle by @jhalya Rated M I mean, if Jules is gonna play dirty by making Obi the hot fish man running around without his shirt on 99% of the time, then of COURSE I’m going to enjoy Deep Blue Sea. It’s, like, one of my favorite movies now.

Favorite Trope

Moonshine Phantom by @leewritingrecs Rated T We got a murder muffin who ALSO used to be a sex worker? Sign me the fuck up, I am 1000% here for this. Also all the showgirls who clearly love their coworker and only want him and his adorable wife to have the best. They may have never heard of her before, but she looks sweet, and they all have a silent agreement between them that if she breaks his heart, they’ll cut her.

Fic That Gave You a New OTP

What the Heart Wants by @sabraeal Rated G Haruto/Mukaze. An attempted kidnapping and subsequent rescue makes Zen and Shirayuki painfully aware that their parents have had, at some point in their lives, sex. Izana may not be happy about someone banging his mom, but is HE rather pleased at having a new sister. >:3c

Pre-Canon

The Wolf in the Woods by @krispy-kream (YES I STILL HAVE THIS BOOKMARKED) Rated G Everyone knows that I have very delicate food feels and this ALMOST went under the Wept Real Tears category, but I like to spread out the crying as much as possible XD Shirayuki finds a boy at the edge of the wood and decides he needs something to eat. Filed under: Guaranteed to wreck me in 500 words or less.

#ansficbingo #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #PLEASE ENJOY ALL THE PRETTY FICS #I LOVE THEM ALL AND HOLD THEM DEAR

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stylecouncil · 3 years

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top five esoteric pieces of celebrity drama ?

oh this one is so good ty!!

in no particular order, but the first one has obviously been on my mind!

1. Robbie Williams versus “britpop”. literally every beef he has had with a britpop boy is golden.

robbie’s and oasis’s 20+??? year beef at this point is the stuff of legends and I can’t get into all of it but like? it’s got everything! drunk dancing at glastonbury, iconic kissing pictures, their former friendship possibly playing a role in the take that breakup, the whole feud starting just because noel decided to open his mouth and call robbie “the fat dancer from take that”, stolen fiancés and the dissolution of a marriage, multiple songs that could be about the whole thing, a funeral wreath with “To Noel Gallagher, RIP. Heard your latest album – with deepest sympathy, Robbie Williams” (the drama of that one!) sent to oasis after the release of standing on the shoulder of giants, general on-going fatshaming and a little sprinkle of homophobia from the oasis camp (the “this ones for robbie, as usual, understands the letter q” at the 2000 q awards being the most notable), boxing match challenges as brit awards speeches, a very funny statement released by oasis about not “condoning violence” (lmao) after this that I can’t find right now, some of noel gallagher’s cruelest insults (this one cutting robbie and my mentally ill ass real deep) for some reason (one involving a gun and uhhh yeah), robbie putting the whole thing down to just wanting to fuck liam, and mentions of a theoretical throple involving himself kylie minogue and liam gallagher, and so much more that I can’t even recall off the top of my head. although there has been some minor reconciliation???? perhaps? also that time liam referred to robbie as a “whore carol singer” and robbie responded is...a moment

also I just love him basically giving no opinion of blur besides the fact they were all middle class assholes to him, PARTICULARLY alex james, the cheese tory bass player.

you can even make the argument that the success of robbie and pop acts like him is what killed britpop or atleast put the final nail in the coffin which makes all of this even more iconic!

honorable mention related to robbie because the humor is more about how fans reacted than the drama itself: that time in 2018 on X Factor that Robbie Williams said Louis Tomlinson didn’t know what camp wasand made some joke about camp not existing in Doncaster (where louis is from) because he was mean about dance club queen janice robinson’s performance, and directioners (well larries) started calling robbie “homophobic” because he was mean? to louis? a straight man? and classist because gay people do live in Doncaster, even though Robbie himself is also from a working class background and place? It was a lot. (there are posts about this I swear, just look in the robbie tag on this site but I don’t feel like finding them so take my word for it).

2. I can’t get enough of literally anything involving Chrissie Hynde and Ray Davies and their drama whirlpool of a relationship. like the fact they had their house senanced because they thought it was ghosts giving their relationship it’s bad vibes? his brother Dave hating her ON SIGHT for some reason, like its all too much for me and also all so nebulous. love it!

3. This one is so esoteric it’s barely drama or a beef but god I love this Courtney Love quote about Julian Casablancas’ little rich “my dad owned one of the biggest modeling firms in the world am I went to boarding school” ass

4. this one is not remotely niche or esoteric but literally every bit of drama that occurred between Tiffany Pollard and Gemma Collins on celebrity big brother....like this is the blueprint for funny reality show drama. I just feel Iike I can’t make a drama list without mentioning it. It’s just required viewing.

5. if you wanna get REAL niche, all the drama that occurred on The Glee Project (specifically season 1) that only me, my friends and like five other people have ever watched. Lindsay versus Ellis?? When Cameron walked? (literally all of this is niche enough that I can only find fan videos and no real clips, and the only reason my friends and I are able to still watch it is because one of them tormented it in like 2012) it’s all burned into my brain!!

#I don’t knew why I treated this like a sourced exposè but here you go lmao #asks

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parnelbedlam · 3 years

Text

12th century England and the Wayhaven Chronicles

Let me preface this with I am not trying to bash Sera’s work in anyway. I am a fan of the Wayhaven chronicles and don’t want this post to be seen in the wrong light. I love seeing fanart and writings of the text and in no way mean to hurt anyone with this post, rather I’d like to help inform on this particular area.

I understand that this work is fiction, that it isn’t reality but does seem to reflect our world just with a hidden supernatural spin. As such it stands to reason that the 12th century in Wayhaven is the same as in the real world (or at least closely resembling). But because it is fiction it doesn’t have to conform to reality and thus this may all be moot.

If you’d like to learn a bit more about 12th century England please read on if not just ignore this post.

(any pictures used that are not credited are taken from the Historia Normannis re-enactment group)

So straight off the bat, regarding Adam/Ava and the 12th century there are some things about them that simply don’t fit the period.

Now to understand why I care about a few small details; I have been a 12th century re-enactor in England for the past 6 years (and a multi- period re-enactor for around 8) . As such while there is definitely much more I can learn I do have a fairly good grasp of the early Norman period (in England as least). My group aims to portray Norman life in England from peasants to Nobles and I’m heavily involved in the drapery.

1. Adam/Ava’s name is slightly off

So ‘du’ means ‘of’ in French but here’s where every English school lies to their students; The Normans aren’t French. Rather they’re Vikings who were given land by the French. Anyway with that bit of history out of the way the connective used for names by the Normans in England at this time isn’t Du but De so De Lacey, De La Ware ect.

Fun fact; Adam/Ava would have had several ways you could refer to them as last names weren’t what they are now as such they would have been refered to as Adam De Mortain, Adam Fitz[insert father’s name here] (Fitz mean son of) or Ava of (wherever they lived in England).

From what I understand Adam isn’t the most popular name in the 12th century, he’s much more likely to be named William, Stephen, Henry, Steven, Robert or Richard (note how many kings and royalty of the time have those names). Adam become more popular as a name around the 13th cen but this is something I would have to look more into to properly comment on so take it with a pinch of salt.

Ava is fine I think? Ada works as an alternative that’s the name I use on encampment. Some popular ones of the period are Matilda, Eleanor, Margaret, Isolda is another (Emperess Matilda and Eleanor of Aquitaine are some incredible women who do not get enough credit in history)

The doomsday book is an excellent source for understanding names in England at the time (it’s basically a survay of England and a portion of Wales ordered by William the Conqueror a couple of decades after he became king).

2. Gender Roles in Norman society

Norman society had gender roles, it just did. Less so for peasants (some crafts were seen as more a man’s domain or a woman’s but that’s about it, didn’t see many men embroidering and women doing blacksmithing) but very clear ones for nobles.

Noble women basically ran the estate, they had the keys for the coffers, the doors and handled the money. Their power and status was signified by a large ring of keys they would wear on their belt with the only other person having this being a steward. After all if you have lots of keys and those keys are made of say brass which is more expensive then cast iron you must have a pretty big estate and wealth.

Men in contrast showed this with a sword at their belt. Contrary to media swords were not something anyone had access to in the middle ages, they were expensive (think luxury sports car) and only really good for killing people. You can’t really use it to cut your bread or skin a rabbit, if you did have some extra money for wargear you would buy a helmet or some armour before you bought a sword. Even most mercenaries didn’t use swords, it was symbol of wealth.

Noble men were taught from an early age how to fight and were squired to knights to learn the ways of warfare (they didn’t just learn how to fight but it was a large part of their education).

Women didn’t fight on the battlefield at all, knight Ava would not have been a thing. Women did occassionally command armies such as if their castle was being besieged but they didn’t fight as knights. I know this was done so that there weren’t any differences between the characters of Adam or Ava but in reality it wouldn’t be a thing.

Some of the things both were taught though was horse riding and hunting, as well as poetry and music. There were pleanty of noble men who were troubadour and women who were trobairitz (travelling musicians/composers, not quite like how bards are portrayed as today).

3. Battlefield Etiquette and armour

Knights don’t kill other knights they took them hostage. This was because a dead knight was worth what he was wearing but an alive knight could be ransomed back to his family for much more. As such it was seen poorly if you did murder a knight when you could have taken them ransom (most knights would surrender if they felt they were in danger, people aren’t stupid).

Plate did not exist in the 12th century, what was worn was maille (or chain maille except maille means chain so it was just called maille). This is more so what Adam would be wearing;

What he’s wearing is a badded gambison under the armour to protect against blunt blows (like from a mace) while on top of that he has maille to protect against slashes (he’s also got his cloth undergarments underneath is all). The cloth on top is a surcoat and would be of your heraldry or your lords heraldry and basically signified to everyone else that you were a knight (so difficult to kill and very good at killing).

Underneath the helmet the maille overs his head and neck (called a coif) and then under that he has a padded arming cap. As such it’s a little difficult to wip your helmet off movie style and you’re face would be covered in oil and sweat, hair sticking to your head. Maille is really good at pulling hair out so you would always have something underneath it (ealier periods, like the vikings, who didn’t wear gambisons wore their tunic underneath).

4. Fashion

This is more just to give an idea of what fashion in the 12th century was like. Media tends to portray the medieval period incorrectly, as dirty and dull and with random bits of fur and leather strapped to people (really Vikings tv show? fur on the outside of your cloak to get wet?)

Much to the opposite, people in the medieval period were clean (they washed) they didn’t just leave dirt on themselves and given peasants didn’t have too much money they kept very good care of their clothing as they couldn’t just get another one everytime they ripped their dress or tunic (or buy the fabric to make another).

Bright coloured clothing was also very popular, it’s harder to dye clothing a bright or deep colour and some colours (purple and black) could only be achieved through using rare dyes. So if you had a bright dress it showed you had more money. Norman’s weren’t so big on jewellry so they showed wealth through their clothing; the colour, the embroidery, the quality of fabric and if it had excess fabric.

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So lets start with Ava.

I’m going to assume that Adam/Ava’s family were upper nobility so had a fair bit of wealth behind them.

Firstly woman’s heads were covered, it was seen as immodist for a woman of age to show her ears (only harlots do that). Mostly what was worn was a wimple which is basically a linen head scalf like so;

But Ava is a noble so she has some other options open to her such as a veil (similar to wimple but flows down the back of the person) or the risque barbette which was very fashionable among the upper nobility.

(maniacal medievalist - wordpress)

Dresses covered the body and just barely touch the floor, low neck lines aren’t in yet so the only skin a woman would be showing is her hands and face (and neck if veil or barbette). You wouldn’t really be able to see her collar bones as that is about where the neckline of the shift and dress are.

Dresses were tight fitting and were worn with a shift underneath (made of linen and basically under garments), Normans (with more money) would dye the shift either white or a contrasting colour. The neck hem and wrists of the dress were often embroidered (if you were very rich you could embroider it with prescious stones and metal thread)

Noble women would often have long impractical sleeves that were embroidered and had a contrasting colour inside to show off their wealth (less wealth smaller bell sleeves). (If say hunting, tight fitted sleeves were recommended, bell sleeves are really impractical for doing anything)

Next we have Adam.

Men’s fashion in the 12th century was similar to women, they wore long tunics (longer the richer you were) with a linen shift underneath, they also wore linen braise (basically underwear) with tight fitting woolen hose (basically stocking). It was the fashion to show off your calves.

Men’s clothing was also embroidered and they wore hats or linen coifs on their heads (it’s only really recently in history where it has become the norm not to wear a hat). The neckline would also be about around the collar bones.

Also quick side notes; cloaks don’t have hoods, hoods are a separate piece of clothing that cover the shoulders

Rings aren’t popular yet, you’ll see much more metal studs on belts or precious stones on clock pins then you’ll see rings. Cross necklaces for men are common, rosaries on the belt for women (richer women would have precious stones on the rosary).

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If you’ve gotten this far thank you for reading this, I do appriciate it. This post was made because while I love Adam/Ava and seeing fanart of Ava as a knight, but as a 12th century re-enactor the inaccuracies grated on me (something that plagues many re-enactors who care about authenticity in media, aka the Vikings and Assassin’s Creed Valhalla are horrible representation of what the vikings looked like please stop media).

I hope this post has been informative of the 12th century, it’s one of the lesser known periods of the medieval age and there’s a lot of misinformation about it. As stated at the top this post is purely to help inform about the period and is in now way meant as an attack on the work, Sera or others.

I hope you have a good day.

#twc #the wayhaven chronicles #ava du mortain #adam du mortain #12th century england

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smokeybrandreviews · 3 years

Text

Androids, Aliens, and Wizards

Episode two in the can and this show is proving to be a highlight of Phase Four so far. I really liked WandaVision but you can tell that narrative was more of a transitional one for Wanda, herself. It wasn’t bad or anything, just small. That show felt small, which makes sense considering what it wanted to do but this one? The Falcon and the Winter Soldier? This one is big time! This one episodes busted the MCU going forward, wide the f*ck open and i loved it! I was debating whether to cover this this thing on an episode by episode basis or just do one big review at the end but, if episode two left me with anything, it’s that i gotta do this sh*t weekly because, f*ck, this one had SO much! Here are the highlights that stood out the most to me.

Wyatt Russell cuts a good John Walker. He definitely looks the part and captures that snobby, elitism, the character so effortlessly exudes in the book. He’s doing a great job just hinting at it right now but that sh*t is eventually going to go full-blown and I think Walker might end up being a straight up villain. Or, at least, the Thunderbolt’s version of Cap. Yo, that’s probably when he’ll get he moniker “USAgent!”

Solid introduction of Walker but the way. I loved the introspection and the way we saw hints of the the storm just underneath the surface. There is a rigidity there, one prime to eventually break and i am here for all of that.

Didn’t expect Battlestar. That is a pretty deep cut from the Marvel lexicon. I’m not mad mind you, and rather enjoy the rich ass story Feige is building with these characters, but it was just a surprise. Battlestar is less than D-list but it looks like he’s going to play a pivotal role in this, at least as far as Walker’s development is concerned.

I love the chemistry that Sam and Bucks have. It’s effortless animosity, all because they both love Steve the most, and it’s adorable.

“The Big Three.”

“How do you know about Gandalf?”

“It’s actually White Wolf.”

Of course the guv’ment bugged Red Wing. How could they not? That thing is loaded with Stark tech and Sam was a fugitive for treason. There’s no way they strap a couple hundred million dollars worth of classified military tech to his back.

Yo, she IS Flag-Smasher! That Ginger chick is the MCU’s version of Karl Morgenthau. Gender swapped AND race swapped?? Yeah, some cats ain't gonna be on board for this show at all. Karli Morgenthau! Me? I’m here for all of it! I’ve written at length about my love for reimaginings and it just tickles my fancy that they went with Erin Kellyman; A pale shinned, ginger haired, half black, Irish woman. Just confuse all of the bigots. I hope she has more lines. She hasn’t really had the opportunity to properly act yet, even on Solo. Actually, she’s kind of just playing Enfys Nest again, right? Think about it.

Elijah Bradley sighting! That makes three Young Avengers? Wiccan, Speed, and Patriot? Marvel is going all in with this “youth initiative” i guess?

Isaiah Bradley just f*cked up the whole MCU. man. Look, I've always been a fan of the “first” Captain America. His narrative hits pretty close to home for me as a Black dude whose Grandpa was in the Air Force around the same time as Bradley. The fact that he was super juiced and NO ONE EVER KNEW ABOUT IT, NOT EVEN STEVE, is f*cking disgusting. I need to know why. I need to know how. Why the f*ck was he in prison for thirty years?

“Steve believed in you. He trusted you. He gave you that shield for a reason. That shield? That is... That is everything he stood for, that is his legacy. He gave you that shield, and you threw it away like it was nothing. So maybe he was wrong about you and if he was wrong about you, then he was wrong about me.”

“A word of advice then; Stay the hell out of my way.”

The Power Broker is in this, too? Noice! Feige is crafting a Frankenstein’s monster of a masterpiece with this how! It makes perfect sense, of course, but i didn’t expect it. I figured the Flag-Smashers just got bootleg Super-Soldier serum or something, like they stumbled on the sh*t somewhere. The blip did just poof a lot of motherf*ckers away instantly. Whose to say an entire, clandestine, military laboratory didn’t get poofed, too?

Dat Zemo stinger, tho! Very Hannibal-esque. I loved it! Zemo was actually one of my favorite villains and, outside of Thanos, the only one who actually won. Men of will, yo. Men. Of. Will.

This show is leaning HEAVY in the race stuff. A certain portion of the viewing demographic, probably the same ones that will be upset with the way this show interpreted Karl Morgenthau, aren't going to like that much.

These shows are too short, man. Marvel needs to give us proper hour long episodes, or release this sh*t as a dump. a f*cking half hour run-time with a recap at the beginning and then a title sequence? Bro, what? This Saturday morning cartoon vibe is bullsh*t!

I ended up watching this episode three times, i loved it so much. As a Marvel shill, the reverence for comic lore displayed here was awesome. Feige is pulling all the stop and playing with all the toys right now and it’s making for a far more intriguing watch than WandaVision. I said last week the MCU is at it’s best when they do Winter Soldier/Civil War type narratives and this show is proving to be one of the best. I can’t wait to see Zemo and how he factors into this plot. I can’t wait to see what happens with USAgent and Battlestar. I can’t wait to see how the Flag-Smashers finally have their showdown with the Power Broker. More than that, i cant wait to see how much growth Bucky and Sam have by the end of this show. So far, there’s no fat on this rind and i am enjoying these prime cuts. Let’s hope it continues into next week.

#The Falcon and the Winter Soldier #Sam Wilson #Bucky Barnes #Marvel #MCU

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fuckyeaharthuriana · 4 years

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Top arthurian tv shows in preference order (26 entries)

Now that “Cursed” is in the game, I decided to re-order my favorite tv shows!

This was my god tier/not good shows list:

So welcome to the slighty updated list, now with Cursed, and small explanations

GOD TIER

01. The Legend of King Arthur (BBC): BEST arthurian show ever. It is the closest to Malory. It has a scheming, pleasant, smart Morgana who still manages to be sympathetic (I was rooting for her), some very nice scheming Mordred, some heartbreaking scenes, and I cried because of Bors, so be warned. The show goes a bit quickly for some parts because it tries to tell the whole story from baby Arthur to his death, so some characters end up becoming secondary (ex. Gawain or Lancelot and Guinevere and their love, which I didn’t mind too much).

02. Kaamelott: This tv show is amazingly heartbreaking? It starts slow, mostly comedic sketches (and I am not even sure the first seasons are subtitled), but continues quite strongly by adding more and more drama. I’d suggest starting from season 4 if you are here for the plot more than the comedy! The main character is Arthur, who plays the role of the classic straight man in comedy, at least at the beginning, but ends up on a character development journey that I loved to pieces.

03. Arthur et les enfants de la Table Ronde: this animated series is absolutely adorable (and I am slowly making subtitles here). The story revolves around young Arthur (only a few know of his destiny) and his friends: princess Guinevere, Gawain, Morgana and Tristan. Mordred and Morgause are also in the show as the classic mayhem villains, and Uther is the king... and pretty awful for a kids show! Every episode is lovely.

04. The Adventures of Sir Lancelot: I am probably biased, because this was one of my first arthurian tv shows, but this is a great fun family show with episodic stories where Lancelot just saves the day! There is nothing too deep (not even the Lancelot and Guinevere story), but each episode is fun and independent from the others.

TOP TIER

05. Camelot (Starz): This show had the misfortune of coming out at the wrong time, as I believe it would be much more successful nowadays, so it is only one season. The story set up a great Morgana, both pleasant, sympathetic and ambitious, trying to kill the less charismatic Arthur (who is probably the weak point of the show). Other great characters are peppered around (a great Merlin, interesting Igraine, adorable Kay, interesting Gawain), but the show spends a little too much time on the Guinevere-Arthur-Guinevere’s husband triangle and it drags the show down. Still, all the scenes with Morgana were gold!

06. The Mists of Avalon: A good miniseries of a less good book. The miniseries ends up making Guinevere slightly more sympathetic, which helped a lot, and cutting some of the plot related to paganism vs Christianity (which also helped). The story is the classic (classic because Mists of Avalon made it popular!) Morgana’s journey, from her childhood to Arthur’s death, with some interesting wrapping up of Arthur’s destiny and Morgana desperately trying to fix things.

07. The Adventures of Sir Galahad: A very old fun show which is more like a very long movie (one single story over different episodes, I think 7? If I remember correctly?). The old age is quite prominent (the way the show handles the continuous “Galahad is in trouble... Galahad manages to escape!”), but it is still good content for the Galahad fans! Furthermore, there is a lot of Mordred too. Basically, Galahad has to guard Excalibur for a night, when the sword disappears, and Galahad has to look for it.

08. The Boy Merlin: A very underrated show, maybe because it is quite short, but this is pretty good. It’s just a season of young child Merlin growing up with his adoptive family (his mother had to give him away) and his grandmother teaching him magic. It is quite wholesome, so expect the fluffiest adorable family and young Merlin slowly learning about his own destiny and future (lady of the lake also makes an appearance).

09. Cursed (Netflix): A new tv show about Nimue (hopefully it will have a season 2) deciding to stand up and fight for her people (the fay) with the use of a mythical Sword. The Sword (cursed sword) concept is quite interesting and I greatly enjoyed that, Nimue is a bit bland as a character, but the show has some great secondary characters like Morgana, Arthur and other spoilery characters and all of them have their personal arc, as well. Also kudos for having the first queer character in a tv show with a wlw Morgana!

10. Prince Valiant (animated series): An animated series about Prince Valiant and how he arrived at King Arthur’s court to reclaim his own kingdom and name. This show is quite good, with some interesting arcs and doesn’t chicken out from rounding up the secondary characters, in particular Guinevere, Gawain and Merlin.

MID TIER

11. Arthur of the Britons: This show follows the adventures of Arthur and his adoptive brother Kay, in a very historical settings. Don’t expect medieval castles or knightly armors, but a Celtic village and Arthur going on different adventures to help his clan or fight Saxons (or compete with Kay, who is an amazing character in this show). Sadly, Ector, Arthur and Kay are the only arthurian characters in the whole show.

12. Trollhunters: An animated series with three main parts (part 3: Wizards is coming out soon). The arthurian themes are secondary but will probably increase with the new season, and, in general, the show is quite enjoyable. It tells the adventures of human Jim Lake who is chosen to become a trollhunter and goes on various adventures to help “the good trolls” and defeat the villains, alongside his friends. Morgana is one of the main villains of the series, and Merlin instead works with Jim (but the show is not as black and white as it seems, and Merlin is definitely not a great character).

13. The Librarians: This is another ancillary arthurian show, just like Trollhunters. It is based on the movies but focuses on new characters so you won’t need to watch the movies. It follows the adventures of a group of people (found family trope!) who have to protect The Library, a place that keeps all magical artifacts. Galahad is one of these people and a main character, and absolutely one of the best parts of the show. Morgana and Lancelot also make an appearance.

14. Fate/Apocrypha: an anime in the Fate universe, but can be watched independently from the others as this is an AU story. It follows the adventures of a group of characters who summons Servants (historical and mythical figures) to help them in a ritual war to find the Holy Grail. While the show is set in modern times, there are arthurian characters among these summoned Servants and Mordred is one of them. Mordred is a great character here and it is interesting to see the father/son relationship he develops with the guy who summoned him. Plus, there are some arthurian flashbacks from Mordred’s times!

15. King Arthur (anime): I haven’t finished this anime yet (and I am slowly subtitleing it) but I love it! It flattens out a lot of arthurian plot points, and ends up mixing them up together to get a classic “Arthur goes on a quest with his arhturian friends” story. Arthur leaves to save his kingdom after finding out he is Uther’s son, and various arthurian characters join him (ex. Tristan, Percival, Lancelot). The Arthur and Lancelot relationship is particularly interesting as Arthur initially dislikes Lancelot, as he thinks Lancelot’s family caused Uther’s demise. The second season of the show ends up.... weirdly, with Arthur joining new non arthurian characters to have some more adventures, so I won’t subtitle that part.

16. Merlin (1998 miniseries): A miniseries about Merlin, from his childhood to Arthur’s death. While extremely popular, and with some amazing actors and actresses, I cannot say I am a big fan. The story has some good points (there are some prophecies that really wrap up the plot quite nicely at the end, plus the concept of gods kept alive by worship is interesting), but the story in some parts is accelerated to get to the point, and.... all female characters seem obsessed by beauty, which was annoying. I have to say, my main point of dislike was actually how female characters are good (Nimue) and subservient, or not good and vain (Morgana, Guinevere, Mab).

LOW TIER

17. Merlin (BBC): This is probably at the same level of Merlin 1998 for me. While the story starts with mixing up arthurian character to give us an interesting begin point, and show us the journey that would lead to Arthur and Guinevere as king and queen, the show seems to forget its initial premise. Instead of a character journey we have “character points”. For example, we start with Morgana being all about justice, then we have Morgana evil, just like that she forgets all her previous characterization. Furthermore, the show doesn’t let the main relationship of the show (Arthur and Merlin) grow and the two ends up stuck in the same dynamic till the end, because the show was too chicken to actually turn Arthur into a good king and change the status quo (he remains anti magic for all the 5 years of his kindgom, while the prophecy said he would create a great kingdom??). Still, on the good side, the episodes are pretty comedic and light, Guinevere actually has a character arc, and the scenery is always beautiful.

18. Stargate SG-1 (arthurian seasons): Vary vaguely arthurian, just a couple of characters and names. Still, the show is fun if you enjoy sci fi, and you can directly start from season 7 (I think that’s where the new team comes in and where the arthurian seasons start). Still, don’t expect a lot of arthuriana.

19. Sir Gadabout: Okay, this is actually funny. This is a parody about a goofy knight called Sir Gadabout, in King Arthur’s court. The reason why it is so low is because I was a bit disappointed by the lack of arthurian themes and characters (I remember only Guinevere and Arthur), and the dvds were also hard to find.

20. Fate Zero: I actually enjoyed this Fate series more than the original Fate Stay Night, and Arthur (Saber) is a bit more of a character here than the Fate Stay Night anime. Still, minimal arthuriana.

21. King Arthur’s Disasters: Comedy/parody animated series about Arthur ending up in various troubles trying to impress Guinevere, who is a bit of a sexist stereotype.

22. Seven Deadly Sins: A four seasons anime (with the new season coming out soon) about mythical knights considered both terrible villains and monsters, but clearly misunderstood by history. These knights are partially arthurian, as there is Meliodas (Tristan’s father), Ban (Lancelot’s father) and Merlin (a woman, in this show). Arthur also makes an appearance as the king of a nearby kingdom and Merlin’s friend and protegee. The show is fun and light, but even for an anime the sexism is high (Meliodas is a horrible protagonist).

SHIT TIER

23. Fate Stay Night: The original Fate anime where Saber (Arthur) is summoned as a servant to fight in the modern war for the Holy Grail. She is the only arthurian character.

24. Once Upon a Time (only the arthurian episodes): The arthurian season of Once Upon a Time was a disappointment full of plot holes, forgotten storylines and villain Arthur.

25. Merlin’s Apprentice (miniseries, sequel of the 1998 one): Nah. Please.

26. Alias the Jester (animated series): this is barely arthurian. Watching it was a mistake.

#arthurian #merlin #king arthur #guinevere #arthurian legends #list #tv shows #resource #sort of #resources #top tiers

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angelkurenai · 5 years

Text

Imagine talking with your husband, Chris, about his last scene in the Avengers during an interview and finding a way to tell him he’s going to be a dad.

“Hi, I would like to ask Chris if you can tell us about your last scene and/or the last line you said on the final day of shooting for you. Do you remember it and if you do, can you tell us what it was?”

“Oh wow that's a good one.” the actor spoke into his microphone as the entire audience and you as well paid close attention to him “My last line uhm- oh man, I can't even remember I think? But- but I'm pretty sure it wasn't even something that big, you know? It wasn't any important, o-or extraordinary scene for me to easily remember.” he shrugged a bit shyly and innocently, chuckling softly.

“Excuse me?” you cut him off with wide eyes, placing a hand over your chest and faking shocked you gasped “Not important or big? Tell that to my crying-for-thirty-minutes-straight self!”

Knowing the tone in your voice at that moment he knew it wasn't his costar or wife talking, but rather the huge fangirland supporter you always were of his, above all, and Captain America, he couldn't help but burst into laughter “I feel so bad about laughing now because I honestly felt so sad, got scared even, when you wouldn't stop crying during my last scene! But that didn't even have to do with the scene itself, did it?”

“No, not really. But we were lucky we weren't together on that scene because I would have never been able to pull it off. I'd just lose it all the time. But I was definitely behind the cameras watching him and everyone else or at least-” you shrugged “Tried to, through all that blury vision and tears. The only good thing about it was how he spoiled me with all my favorite sweets, movies and the most beautiful fort you'd ever see! He's totally the best! That and cuddles, but don't tell RDJ cause the shipping will never end after that! The man already posts more photos of the two of us than anything relevant to his life!”

“Can't say I blame him!” Chris shrugged this time not-so-innocently before laughing softly “But yeah, it was maybe a big scene after all, if we put it in other words. A scene which I vaguely remember. And I know that even if I did remember the last line, I wouldn't really be able to say. But- but it's a really- I think there are some really far more emotional scenes there that stand out than that. Some that I do remember my lines in at least!”

“Alright, thank you!” the fan said with a smile, nodding her head.

“Thank you.” Chris said with a smile of his own. He barely had the time to say the words and glance in your direction that his smile fluttered and he gave you an adorably perplexed look.

“Seriously?” you said dead serious, eyebrows raised “Is that all you're gonna give 'em? She asked a question and all you say is 'Don't know. Don't remember. Can't know. Can't remember. Scene and movie must stay a secret. No spoilers, sorry.' Seriously? No. Spoilers? And you're say that while sitting next to me, Evans?” you emphasized before shaking your head and turning back to the fans, scoffing “Can you believe I married this guy?” you asked, pointing to him as he threw his head back in laughter.

“How dare you Evans!” you still couldn't fight your grin, not when you heard that beautiful laugh of his that you fell in love with from the first moment, ten years ago “You say something like when your wife's next to you? Me, the Queen of teasing and subtle hints? Torture the fans the right way!? I thought after all these years that you had learned a thing or two but oh Odin help me, you weren't even paying attention!”

“What can I say. Guilty-” he raised his hands in surrender, shrugging “I was too busy falling in love with you all over again, every ingle time, to care about anything else.”

And of course as soon as he uttered those words, which you could see were 1000% true just by taking a look at him, he had the entire audience awing and gushing at the two of you. Your teasing mood dropped and you couldn't help but go soft at his words as well, maybe even felt your face heat up a bit.

“Alright, stop-” you hid your face behind your hand “This is not how it's supposed to work! You shouldn't make me melt on the inside. I'm supposed to tease you until you break and reveal something and not blush because you're literally the world's best husband ever!”

A deep warm laugh came from him as he threw an arm over your shoulders and hugged you closer to himself, kissing your temple and practically making the entire audience melt at the sight “Well, I'm just saying the truth here!” he shrugged so innocently “Besides, honey, I seriously don't remember it at all!

“Oh my gosh.” you gasped “I can't believe you're saying this. Really? You really mean this? Chris! I remember each and every word of that final line! I remember everything you did, every move and expression. How can you not?”

“Because you're also a fangirl and that equals to some serious superhero powers there!”

“More importantly I'm Cap's number one fan!” you pointed out “I mean, really, I even remember the first lines you said when you got the role as well as the first scene you filmed, back in CA:The First Avenger! How could I not remember your last ones as well? Every single detail!”

“Really? How?”

“Don't you remember? It was the first scene we also had together.” you turned to look at the fans “It wasn't so much about the scene we had being special. But it was the fact that for us as people, for Chris and (Y/n), that it was special. We had met not long ago and we were still getting used to each other and uhm it was the first time that we saw each other in our roles so uhm- I remember my character did something that really left Steve speechless. You guys remember?”

You got a lot of yeses and nods at your question before you continued “So yeah, we saw Steve Rogers was pretty much shook. But what I will never forget is that that was all Chris's reaction. Like, we expected him to say his line but he seemed to forget everything o-or somehow shut down that when he realized it, he said the things you ended up seeing in the movie. It was all improvised, and they liked it so much we kept it that way. The beautiful thing was how embarrased, if I may, he was after that and how he apologized non-stop! So yeah, honestly, I will never forget just how he looked at me and how that scene ended up coming to life because of him. Plus, I may or may have not had a big soft spot for that military suit you know!”

“I'll tell you what, I probably never said it before but it was cause I had not realized it. It only dawned on me a couple years ago. I was unable to form any words because I was too shocked by having realized you were going to be the love of my life and hopefully my future wife.” he said with an adorable grin and you were sure he pretty much killed every fan in the room in just half a second afterwards. However you couldn't help but hide your face in the crook of his neck and grin like an idiot while the man smiled with pride at you, kissing the top of your head.

...

“Alright-” you also brough the mic close to your lips “You wanna play dirty, Evans? Fine.” you looked at the fans “The reason why I really remember his last scene, about a month ago, was because I was crying so much and that was because I was a hormonal mess already. Wait till we get on the sixth month or something.” you turned to him only to be met by his wide blue eyes “How's about that, honey?”

“Wh-what?!”

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starkerisendgame · 5 years

Note

A Rom Howney prompt: Tom sneaks into the set late at night to rehearse while everyone's asleep in their trailers, but doesn't bother to change out of his pajamas. Robert has the same idea and sneaks in, and sees him. Tom's pajamas are short boxers and a v-neck.

I really like the idea of sneaky, late-night practices! I hope I captured what you were looking for! I wasn’t sure if you were looking for fluff or smut but based on ‘short boxers’ I threw a little smut into this ;) I hope you enjoy!

PSA that I know next to nothing about movie sets, the way the MCU works BTS or the inner workings of Homecoming, which is the film I’m basing this on. Largely because we get like 5 minutes of Tony+Peter in Civil War and Infinity War, and even less of them in Endgame. It made the most sense to me to have this set at Homecoming.

It was a little known fact that Tom developed something of a little insomnia, during filming. There were nights when the sheer exhaustion won out and he would drag himself off set, collapsing face-down into his bed and sleeping straight through to his next alarm, but then of course, there were plenty of nights like tonight.

Spiderman: Homecoming is well in swing (pun unintended, but totally awesome) and it’s been the Marvel career Tom has been dreaming of since he was old enough to read the comics and watch the animations. Some days, he isn’t even sure that this isn’t all some twisted dream, or that he hasn’t hit his head and this is his perfect coma world.

Well. Not quite perfect, since it’s around three in the morning and he had yet to actually manage any sleep. The past week had been spent filming the scenes for the ferry sequence, and it had been exhausting to say the least. Tom had bruises in places bruises had no business being, and every muscle continuously reminded him of the fact he was doing the majority of his own stunts.

This is a frequent night-time routine, tossing and turning in his bed or sitting at the little kitchenette in his trailer, pouring over the script and stressing about the next day of filming. He knew he shouldn’t, knew that the directors had no issues with his performances so far, but.

Maybe it’s the legacy he’s fulfilling. The latest face in a long saga, but quite possibly the one filling the biggest shoes. He’s in the MCU’s biggest league, working alongside their most iconic actors and characters. Maybe it’s the fact that one such iconic presence is Robert Downey Jr. Maybe it’s the constant doubt of his acting, of what he must look like alongside people like Chris Hemsworth and Jeremy Renner.

The Avengers non-withstanding, all of his co-stars are already the faces behind several iconic roles. Already have successful, recognisable, established careers behind their belt. And, sure. Tom isn’t exactly baby-faced when it came to acting, but he was certainly no Sherlock Holmes or Human Torch.

Maybe it’s just the fact that he’s working 7/7 days a week, often from one day straight into the next, filming at all hours and repeating the same scenes over and over until there’s 20 different takes to splice up and choose from. Whatever the underlying issue, it had resulted in countless sleepless nights.

However, he’d also developed a coping mechanism. Or, rather a productive way of passing the hours. With a deep sigh, he rolled over and heaved himself off the bed, tidying his pillow before he ambled across the trailer, reaching for the drawer he kept the scripts within. The night was relatively warm, L.A’s August heat enough that all Tom had worn to bed was his boxers and a thin, worn v-neck he wasn’t entirely aware he’d packed.

The script was one of several copies, the one that Watts had advised they would be attempting first in the morning. It was time for the turning point in Peter’s story; the rooftop scene. Tom shivered at the mere thought, the script fluttering in his grip for a moment before he relaxed, moving back to the edge of his bed.

It wasn’t that he put off his scenes with Robert, per se. It was just…He had a tendency to nudge them aside, throw himself into his lone scenes and his stunts. The idea of working with Robert made his heart drop, and flutter the whole way down. Robert was talented, intuitive, devastatingly handsome. It gave Tom a little bit of a complex, filming with him. And practising? Fuck.

That had to be done around others, or Tom felt he couldn’t be held responsible for what he might do. The way that Robert was just so Tony without even trying. The effortless, animated way he threw himself into character, never breaking it even when Tom messed up or he decided to ad-lib. The way Robert’s hair curled in the mornings, soft and dark before the makeup crew dived at it with product.

Christ. The way Robert looked in a suit and Tony’s signature shades. The way his voice dipped and husked when Tony Stark bossed Peter around. It all merged into one big Thing that steadily grew until Tom couldn’t ignore it. Until even his co-stars had noticed how he changed around the older man.

Chris (”when Hems is around, just shout for Cevans”) had taken him aside, during the filming of Civil War. All sootied up and dressed as the good Captain, grinning soft and broad at Tom as he told him not to worry. Don’t get so starstruck. Robert is just a man and you’re doing great. You’re doing awesome. Tom had promptly left to go bang his head against a wall, but had tried to keep his raging crush and complex under control.

Now, without Chris’ soft, knowing looks to guilt him into behaving, Tom wasn’t all that sure he wouldn’t do something stupid when filming. He already took too many liberties; touching when he could, ad-libbing into developing the mentor-mentee relationship Watts wanted to present (baiting the fans, Tom knew. Homecoming was Peter-Tony bait, and it would be ripped apart in the future).

So he avoided practising with Robert as much as he could, utilising his sleepless nights by wandering the set in the dark hours, practising his lines to the empty air and bracing himself for how good Robert would look in the coming hours, the way his voice would sound, the way whatever $4,000 suit he had on would shape his body.

Tom shook his head, biting his lip to bring himself back to the present as he reached for a pair of ankle socks, tugging them on before slipping his feet into the sneakers at the side of his bed. They were in Los Angeles, the set having been sculpted over the past month to resemble a building rooftop. Tom wondered if the fans knew just how much of the MCU was CGI and clever building work.

He debating redressing, but it was unlikely that even the set-up crew would be there this early, and so he settled upon grabbing a zip-up hoodie, large and baggy and probably someone else’s. It was soft and grey and was missing the strings, but it came down to his thighs and was warm, and he draped it over his arm as he scooped up his keys and a water bottle, pushing his door open.

It was still pitch black, and he used his phone as a torch, folded script tucked into his pocket as he crept past the line of other trailers. Robert’s was by far the biggest, and was three spaces across from Tom’s, dark and shut down as the man no doubt slumbered away peacefully.

Tom envied him, just a little. And was acutely aware that it was ridiculous he also envied the bed Robert was draped on. The sheets wrapped around his body. Shaking his head at himself, he tip-toed onward, past the rows of trailers and the craft area, moving until he reached the large, open space of the set. It was essentially like a boxing ring, a giant square platform with one edge cut away to allow for a small set of steps leading onto it.

In the morning, there would be a single, green-screen colour step there, where Robert would stand whilst pretending to hover as Iron Man, and where he would step down in reaction to Peter’s outburst, revealing himself. For now, the little half-cube was empty, quiet. Tom fumbled around in the darkness until he found the switch for the dim safety lights, wincing as they came on.

He waited, practically holding his breath; but nobody stirred, the set far enough away that the light didn’t reach the trailers. He let out a heavy exhale and approached, setting his hoodie and his bottle down and pulling the script from his pocket. He knew why the scene had to happen, but it still always made something in his chest cinch to read it.

How those words devastated everything within Peter. How the trust and the love and the feelings, carefully sculpted for Tony over years of admiration and then being approached crumbled, nothing but rubble in his chest. Losing the two things that were possibly the most prominent driving forces, Aunt May aside.

Tom shook himself off, psyched himself up as he paced the cube, slipping inch by inch into Peter’s mind. It wasn’t all that hard; they shared their similarities, their behaviours. Tom supposed that was part of why being Peter came so easily, so naturally. He let himself sink into the mindset, pacing and coaxing himself into the right state.

“I did good. I know I did good. I saved those people. I did my best. He’s gotta believe me now. He has to” he breathed to himself, shaking his head as the set fell away into a rooftop on a sunny day, the high-up air chilly at his cheeks, the knowledge that Tony would come to him forcing him to keep moving, restless. So much was riding on this. Practically his entire future. Maybe.

The roar of thrusters, the ripple of disturbance in the air. The prickle at his senses as Tony approached. It didn’t escape Tom, the nature behind the fact they had Tony stop above Peter, suited and booted. It was a physical representation of the power dynamic, the relationship. The nature of the scene.

Robert’s voice, as clear as bells in his mind, with all that Tony Stark flare, the way he’d bounce from sentence to sentence. The rigid power behind each word. He could feel his lower lip wobble a little, brows pulling as he tried to bring himself to ask.

“Is everyone okay?”.

He stopped, mulling it over. Peter was scared, but also angry. He tried again, defiantly this time. It didn’t feel quite as right as being meek, soft where Tony was jagged, so he repeated it the way he had before. Peter wasn’t in that place yet, where he would challenge Tony Stark. Where he would slowly find his feet and push back, instead of relenting.

In truth, Tom liked it this way. It felt right, backing down where Robert pressed, looking away instead of holding his gaze. And perhaps that was Tom, bleeding into the character. Perhaps it was just a nod to Robert’s talents. Tom shifted, tugged his boxers down a little where they had ridden up. They were little more than girls’ boxers, short and tight at the thighs. He had several pairs to wear under the CGI and the actual spandex suit.

The anger at Tony’s next words, more hurt than genuine rage. He’d helped. He’d been there when Tony hadn’t. Was pretty sure Tony was only there because Peter had been. “No thanks to me?” More force. More courage. But still hurt, still scared. Tony was supposed to support him. Teach him. Not…This.

He tried that sentence a few times, varied the levels of anger, of pain. Watts wanted this part to be an outburst, the hurt and rage bubbling over, the tipping point to where Tony would make that crushing choice to take it all away. He stood on the edge of the structure, looked out over the city he’d chosen to protect. Let Tony’s words run through his head.

He twisted in anger, explosive this time as he spat the words out, stopped. Too much anger didn’t seem like Peter. Soft, bubbly Peter. So he softened it a little on the next run before taking a water break, consulting his script again. If he was a little more alert, a little less invested, he might’ve heard the soft, deliberately careful footsteps. Might have noticed the figure taking the same path he had, some half an hour ago.

As it was, he turned away again, moving to the next line. It was the last sentence he always stumbled over. If you even cared, you’d actually be here. God, how much pain was in that. How much anger. Every way he tried it was good, but almost never enough. He hated it, hated saying it. Hated that this was part of their journey, although he understood and respected it.

He mulled it over, wandering the structure for a few rounds before he settled, went through the line before it. Psyched himself up, let his body tremble with it, the words fighting to be free until -

“If you even cared, you’d actually be here!”

“I am, kiddo”.

Tom nearly threw himself off the short ledge he’d been balancing on, stifling his shriek with his hand as he whipped around. There, near where Tom had dumped his things, was Robert. Robert, who’s hair was messy-rumpled from sleep, clad in nothing but a soft pair of sweatpants and a thin wifebeater. Robert, who grinned at him lazily, dazzlingly from where he leaned against a lighting beam, arms folded, hips cocked.

“Great minds really do think alike” the older actor drawled, smile turning soft as he pushed upright, moving with a natural, easy saunter towards the podium. It was then that the tepid air on his thighs reminded Tom of his state of dress and he flushed, shifting nervously on the spot.

“Did I wake you?” He asked, chewing at his lip as he looked past Robert, towards his hoodie. How would it look, if he danced around him, skirted his advance to reach it? He stayed put for the moment, watched the way Robert gracefully ascended the steps. In response, the actor shook his head, hair softly flopping against his temple at the action.

“Nah, Tommy. You and I share this; I sneak in practise when I can’t sleep, too” Robert admitted, his voice raspy with sleep as he slowly ambled the cube, looking around. Tom took the distraction as an opportunity to stare. The wifebeater clung to Robert’s toned form, exposed thick biceps and broad shoulders. His sweatpants were low on his hips, snug at the thighs and calves.

“Oh. Right, ‘course. D’you…I can go? If you want to practise alone” he offered, toeing the edge of the set as he stepped carefully along, inching towards modest cover. Robert twirled on the spot, casting him an amused, sideways glance.

“Seeing as the scene we both planned on rehearsing is one we have together, and we’re now here together…” Robert responded, voice amused and perhaps a little teasing. Tom could see his point. Though they’d rehearsed this briefly together, it was never in full and always surrounded by other people, feeling the script rather than actually acting it. Tom’s fault, admittedly. He couldn’t help the half-chub this scene incited.

“What, you want a private opportunity to laugh at how shit I am?” He tossed back, but it was easy banter, broken by a smile as he continued his way forwards. Salvation to his exposed skin was so close, that of course Robert’s gaze followed his aim, and the man cocked a brow, easy and confident as he leaned back a little, head cocking. It was the exact sort of mannerism Tony Stark would have, and it spun Tom’s head a little.

“Shy?” The man grinned, almost a baring of his teeth as he turned on the spot, following Tom’s path. Tom snorted, but stopped, turning to face Robert. The man had seen him drowned like a rat and half naked already. Plus, whilst fully covering, Spiderman’s suit didn’t exactly leave much to the imagination.

“Maybe I’m just a sweet prairie girl, never been around a man such as yourself before, Mister. And my, how unholy it is of me, to flaunt such skin before your modest person” he drawled, thick and high as he fluttered his lashes. Robert’s laughter was quiet but genuine, cheeks bunched and shoulders shaking. It was the kind that crinkled the corner of his eyes, and Tom didn’t even try to fight the warmth that spread across his chest in response.

“Sweet, maybe. The rest I call bullshit on” Robert shot back, beginning to stroll the set. “So. Since you have an allergy to properly rehearsing with me, I consider this the perfect opportunity to get a little practise in before we do it on camera” Robert divulged, eyes twinkling as he looked across at Tom. And, fuck. Of course Robert was smart enough to have also noticed.

Tom sniffed delicately, allowing his voice to slip into Peter’s pitched, boyish voice. The accent and the little vocal quirks came as easily to him now as breathing. “Oh, I don’t know. Does the mighty Mr. Stark actually have time for me, now?” He asked, spinning to fully face Robert, who straightened, meeting the change fluidly.

A brow arched, slow and deliberate. The tip of his head challenging as he took a predatory step forwards. “Curb that attitude, kid. I’m right here”. Tom had to repress a shiver, dropping Peter’s persona to rub his palms down his thighs, looking away with a smile. The dim lighting did nothing to take away from Tony’s portrayal, the shadows accentuating Robert’s impressive figure, shading his eyes and sculpting his form in place of a fancy outfit.

“I don’t mean to. Avoid you, y’know? I just…” He trailed off. How did you explain all of the factors in this? Where would he even start? Was it even possible to admit you had a crush on your recently divorced co-star, double your age?

“Hey, I get it, kiddo. I do. Acting isn’t as straight-arrow as everyone thinks and being famous doesn’t mean you stop being a person” Robert tossed back, soft and so breakingly gentle. Tom nodded, accepting that as an easy out before he gathered his wits and turned away from his hoodie. No point in assuming modesty now. Robert had seen enough.

“Okay. Let’s do it” he agreed, hopping from the ledge to shake himself into some semblance of professional. Perhaps this was for the best, anyway. Tom was a professional, after-all. Had an actual job to do, and letting his personal life affect it would do nothing for his career, his working life. Not this personal issue, anyway.

They chatted idly for a brief moment, working out where Tom was at with the scene, discussing lightly the emotions, the reasons, the dynamic. Robert was on the same wave-length, saddened by the interaction but understanding it as a pivotal point in Peter’s life. Tony Stark’s actions on this rooftop were paramount in the making of Spiderman. Of Peter Parker.

“Start from the beginning. I liked what I saw when you were loning it” Robert coaxed, backing away to give Tom space. They slipped easily into the roles, Robert clapping his hands quietly in lieu of a flying suit approaching and Tom running through his lines the way he had before, presenting his interpretations to Robert, who met them easily with Tony’s confidence, his bluntness.

The flatness of his tone, the easy, brutal dismissal in ‘no thanks to you’ struck Tom to the core, knocking him out of Peter for a moment. Robert waited patiently through the slip up, as liquid in being Tony Stark as water flowed. It was easy, almost painfully so. The smooth words, the way Robert held himself even whilst pretending to be in the Iron suit. It was powerful, oozing the higher-up dynamic Tony played off against Peter’s meeker, softer one.

And then.

“I wanna do the caring line. I feel like that’s the electric point in this scene. I think that’s where it all really becomes a live wire” Robert cut through their breathing pause, Tom nearly inhaling his water instead of wallowing it. Fuck. That scene. It ached enough just pretending. Actually doing it with Robert? Tom angled his body away, desperately willing down the almost automatic spike of arousal.

“How does it feel to you? To Peter?” Robert continued, running a hand through his hair to tidy it as Tom tried to get himself back under control. They’d been running through the whole no thanks to you sequence for a while, and Tom’s hands were shaky, his throat tight with Peter’s betrayed anger. Robert had looked impressed each time, gaze dark, retaliating in kind with Tony’s attitude.

“Uh. Well it’s…Peter. I mean, he’s hurt. And he’s angry. But he’s not…Aggressive. Aggressive isn’t him” he shrugged, rubbed at his thighs again. It was true. Peter was determined, stubborn, ready to fight the good fight. But he wasn’t aggressive. He wasn’t like Steve, lie Tony, like Thor. Even angry, it was just his voice, just hurt little words.

“Tony is…A big part of his life. And he’s lost all the men in his life that he’s looked up to. His Dad, his Uncle, and now Tony. He’s drowning in human emotions and he’s probably drowning under his senses, too” Tom added, thoughtful. It was something Marvel had seemed to forget, despite their dramatic displays with the other Toby’s Spiderman and Andrew’s Amazing Spiderman.

Peter Parker had heightened senses too. And although they were touching on his strength and skills in Homecoming, Marvel didn’t seem all that interested in portraying Spiderman as they had before. Or giving him much depth, despite planning several stand-alone movies. Robert was looking thoughtfully across at him, head tipped and one of those soft, lopsided smiles curving his mouth.

“That just Peter, or are you projecting?” Robert asked, and Tom huffed, shot him the middle finger with a slow roll of his eyes.

“Oh, fuck you, Robert Downey Stark. As if you aren’t basically this universe’s Tony” he pointed out, but he was unable to stop a grin. Robert shrugged, shameless. His answering grin was bright, broad. There were people like Chris Evans, who despite portraying Steve Rogers perfectly, shared only minimal similarities. Then there were people like Robert and Chris Pratt, who were basically their characters, without the powers.

“Alright, alright. Hackles down. Come on, sweetheart. This scene and we can hit our beds before Watts wakes us up for that ‘sweet spot morning sunshine’“ Robert beamed, turning away to place himself where he had been stood before, shaking out his shoulders before he cocked his head. “Are you cold, by the way? Little pyjamas like that. You can get your hoodie, if you want”.

It was meant to be caring. Except there was something in Robert’s eyes like a challenge, a tilt to his smile that was almost daring Tom to actually move for his hoodie. Instead, he shot the same look back and moved, walked the edge of the set before he leapt down, approached. It was easy, to sink straight back into Peter. Easier still to watch the way Robert’s jaw ticked, his gaze dark.

“None of this would’ve happened if you had just listened to me, Mr. Stark. If you even cared, you’d actually be here!” Tom seethed, voice cracking over the words, helpless to his emotions. He threw his hands up accusingly, advancing towards where Robert stood, where the suit would hover above him, intimidating and impenetrable.

And Robert was flexing his arms, gaze thunderous, pinning Tom down with his eyes as he stepped closer, spine straight. Immediately, Tom jerked back a step, eyes wide, chest heaving. He was.

“Again” Robert suddenly, breaking from the steely gaze, the ultimate power raidating from him, even without the suit, the sharply styled features. Tom looked away, took a few steps to re-centre himself. He knew the drill. They would try it, over and over, different ways each time until they found the one.

He shifted, tossed a glare across his shoulder. “None of this -” He pointed across to the side. “Would have happened if you had just listened to me. If you even cared, you’d be here”. He advanced as he spoke, gesturing wildly, gaze fixed on the suit. It was easy, with the suit. With those inhuman, glowing eyes. He couldn’t do this to Mr. Stark’s face. His voice wavered over the words, tears building in his eyes. All he wanted was to be good. To be like Tony. To prove something, be worth something.

And then…Tony, stepping forwards like a wall of sheer power. Pressing into his space, forcing Peter to step back, to soften. Tom knew he was projecting in the way he glanced off, baring the side of hi throat briefly. “Again. Last line” Robert commanded in much the way Tony would say I did listen, kid.

Tom shifted, threw his gaze back up, shoulders tensing and advancing where Robert stepped back. “If you even cared, Mr. Stark, you’d be here”. It was rasped, hurt and angry, his body a live wire as Robert stepped forwards again, towered over him. Robert wasn’t the tallest of actors, but Tom was shorter still, to Robert’s jaw.

He shifted, heart stuttering, backed away against the advance of Robert’s presence, immediately giving in. He tipped his head, glanced away, felt all the fight melt from his bones. Tony did that, effortlessly.

“I did listen, kid. You think I didn’t? Who’d you think called the FBI, huh? Me. I did. Again”. The last word was Robert, stepping off again. Tom’s heart pounded in his chest, palms scrubbing at his thighs. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could do this. It got harder, each time. Worse, to be mindful of covering his half-hard dick. The worst thing about this scene was it was one of those types that sunk into reality, blurring the lines.

This time, Robert didn’t back away as much, forced the scene so that Tom advancing brought them almost toe-to-toe. Tom ran the lines again, palms pressing against his thighs as he gasped the words out, eyes blazing. Robert flexed again, code for the stepping-out-of-the-suit moment, except when he pressed forwards, he almost knocked into Tom, forcing him to skitter backwards, desperate to relent.

“I - Mr. Stark” He choked out, gaze falling to the floor, body almost sinking downwards. It was impossible that Robert hadn’t caught that, and the man interrupted, another forceful again that almost had Tom sobbing, shifting to use his thigh to deflect from where he was getting harder.

Robert stepped off enough to let Tom straighten fully again, but leaving barely any breathing room. Tom forced the line out once more, chest heaving as he pressed. Robert retaliated, pressing in, except this time he didn’t stop when Tom scrambled to back down, pressing further until Tom’s legs shook, Robert invading his space, pressing, towering above as Tom caved, sinking to one knee, head turned away.

He could hear Robert’s heavy exhale, could see the way the man shifted, dark navy sweatpants moving against his thigh. Tom’s fingers dug into his own, whole body trembling. This wasn’t the scene, this wasn’t the way it went, but fuck it if he couldn’t have stopped it. It was too much, he was too exhausted to fight it, to separate Tony’s power from Robert’s. The dynamic, the names.

“Tom” Robert’s voice was soft, his body shifting as the older man sunk down, hands coming into Tom’s field of vision. He forced himself to breathe out, exhale long as shaky as Robert’s hands came to his cheeks, cupping his jaw gently to lift his head. The man looked…Soft. Revered. Concerned. “Hey, shortstack” he coaxed, smiling warmly as Tom looked up, forced himself to relax.

“You did good, kiddo. Really. That was intense” Robert murmured, ran his hand across the soft hair at Tom’s temple before he moved to grasp his arms, pulling him to his feet. “Didn’t expect you to play it that way”. And there was something teasing but genuine in his voice. No way Robert didn’t know that was Tom, not Peter.

“Fuck off, I’m tired. And you play Tony too well” Tom shot back, forcing himself to release his thigh, pulling from Robert’s grip to head for his water. Robert had the familiar scent of aftershave, minty and fresh. It was strong, as always, but not overpowering, not too much. Tom drank water until his tummy ached and then ducked, scooping up his hoodie, sipping it on. A protective barrier. Another layer.

“Language, you little shit” Robert threw back, grinning as he approached. He looped an arm over Tom’s shoulders, drew him in. “For real, though. That…Wasn’t Peter”. The look he shot across the space between them was meaningful, though still light. Tom looked away, shoulders hunching. How was he supposed to explain that? Fuck, it would take hours.

“Imagine the hysteria if that was the actual scene” Robert suddeny murmured, voice lilted, a deliberate break in the tension. Tom couldn’t help snorting a giggle, hunching over again, but in amusement this time, trying to stifle his laughter.

“We’re professional actors, Rob. Not porn stars” he reminded his co-star, soft and sated as he broke away, stooping for his things. They still had maybe two or three hours before they had to get up, and he felt loose enough that sleep was a real possibility. Robert shot him a wounded look.

“Are you trying to say porn stars aren’t professional actors?” He asked, voice tinged with false hurt. Tom rolled his eyes and they begun the walk back to the trailer in companionable, quiet banter. Robert presenting his case that porn stars are as much professional actors as himself and Tom, and Tom trying to argue the differences in their methods, their expectations without setting his cheeks on fire.

Robert walked him all the way to his trailer, leaning casually against the side as Tom fumbled for his keys. His eyes are getting heavy, body craving nothing but the comfort and warmth of his bed. Tom supposed it was akin to a soft sub-fall. “Get some rest, darling” Robert advised, voice soft, sweatpants lopsided on his hips as he shifted, pushed away.

“Oh, and. Nice undies. Very minimalist” Robert winked, throwing the remark over his shoulder as he headed for his own trailer, a deliberate saunter in his steps. Tom nearly stabbed his key through the door, twisting to stare open-mouthed as the older man retreated.

They nailed the scene dynamic on the first shoot. Watts and Fordson stared, astounded from their seats as the two broke apart, taking a breather. It was perfect. The right amount of push and give, of hurt and angry. It was exactly what the script demanded.

“I liked it better when you were on your knees” Robert had remarked, casual and quiet in his ear as they leaned forwards watching it on the screen. And if that’s where they ended up several hours later, Tom on his knees, Robert’s hands tucked down into his tight, short little boxers. Well.

That was their business.

#Prompt Fills #Fanfic #Fan Fic #Rom Howney #Starker #IronSpider #Robert Downey Jr/Tom Holland #Tom Holland/Robert Downey Jr #Tom/Robert #Tom Holland x Robert Downey Jr #Robert Downey Jr x Tom Holland #Rom Howney Fic #Rom Howney Fanfic #Rom Howney Prompt

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flashflashitsash · 5 years

Text

Phantom of the Opera 5

1 ... 4 / 6 coming soon

Hello everyone! Thanks for all the likes/reblogs and love you guys have sent!! Its beyond encouraging and greatly appreciated!

—

~ Present time~

Adrien hugged his coat closer to him as the wind blew into the buggy when the doors opened for his nurse to sit next to him, he glanced out the window seeing a familiar face he hadn’t seen in some time...Alya Bustier(or now known as Lahiffe). His jaw dropped for a moment, he removed his hat flashing her a soft smile.

Alya made her way to the bottom of the opera house entrance stairs, turning her gaze straight forward, locking faces with the old but wise green eyes that were in the street, she smiled back at him, it’s been quite some time since she saw him last. She watched him clear his throat, and the buggy yanked forward, leaving her there standing alone, wind blowing leafs all around. Remembering her best friend and her love story.

Adrien leaned to the side, watching Alya stare at him drive away, his mind flashing back to the time he and Alya witnessed and lived the worst, but the best time in Marinette's life.

~Past time~

M. Gabriel barges in through the front doors of the opera house going on and on about his big dilemma of his singers coming and going.

“It says “Mystery of sopranos flight, mystified, all the papers say! We are mystified, we suspect foul play” bad news on soprano scene, first Chloe now Marinette!?” He stomps up the stairs frustrated. “Still at least the seats get sold...gossip worth it’s weight in gold. “ he nods to the maids cleaning up for the show that’s to come

“What a way to run a business...spare me these unending trials. Half your cast disappears but the crowd still cheers! Opera… to hell with Gluck and Handel! Have a scandal and you’re sure to have a hit!”

M. Andre huffily walks to Gabriel holding a letter in his hand, “Damnable, will they walk out? This is damnable!” He shouts clenched fists.

Gabriel shushes Andre grabbing his shoulders “Andre please don’t shout! It’s publicity! And the take is vast..free publicity!

He stares at Gabriel stunned, “But we have no cast!!”

“Andre...have you seen the queue?” He glances down to Andres hands, groaning he says “ Ah… it seems you’ve got one too?”

He opens his letter, reading it aloud, “ Dear Andre, what a charming gala, Marinette in a word, was sublime. We were hardly bereft when Chloe left! On that note— the divas a disaster, must you cast her when she’s seasons past her prime?(in reference to Chloe)” Andre crinkles the letter in his hand as Gabriel pulls out his own letter he received.

“ Dear M. Gabriel, just a brief reminder, my salary has not been paid, send it care of the ghost, by return of post!” He flicks it with his finger “ P.T.O. no one likes a debtor, so it’s better if my orders are obeyed.” The men glance at each other baffled, together…

“Who would have the gall to send this? Someone with a puerile brain!” They shout

G: “These are both signed O.G!”

A:” Who the hell is he?”

They look to each other, realizations hitting them, “Opera Ghost!”

G: “It is nothing short of shocking..”

A: “He is mocking our position!”

G: “In addition he wants money!”

A: “What a funny apparition..”

They both groan turning the corner, “ To expect a large retainer, nothing plain-er. He is clearly quite insane!”

Adrien bursts through the door of the office where the men stand, “Where is she!?!” The blonde man shouts

Andre turns to Adrien “You mean Chloe?”

He frowns, “No! I mean Miss Dupain-Cheng!” He runs a hand through his blonde locks, “Where is she?!”

“Well how should we know?” Gabriel retorts

“I want an answer!” He almost growls, he takes a deep breath composing himself, “I take it that you sent me this note?”

Andre takes the envelope form Adrien, “What’s all this nonsense?” He skimms over the note and scoffs “Of course not!”

“Don't look at us” Gabriel says glancing over Andres shoulder at the envelope

Adrien face relaxes, going from hate to worry, “She's not with you then?”

“Of course not!! We're in the dark..” Andre exclaims

“Monsieur don't argue! Isn't this the letter you wrote!?” He points to Gabriel anger building back up

Gabriel’s takes the envelope from Andre opening it “And what is is that we're meant to have wrote?.....Written!” He grimaces at his grammatical mistake.

“Do not fear for Miss Dupain-Cheng,

The Angel of Music has her under his wing...

Make no attempt to see her again…” Gabriel pauses his eyebrow going up in confusion

“If you didn't write it then who did?” Adrien questions before the doors bust open again

“Where is he?” Chloé yells her heels clacking against the marble floors

The opera house owners grin wide, opening their arms to the drama queen, “Ah, welcome back!”

“Where is he?! Your precious patron, where is he?” She gets in their faces jabbing her finger into Andre’s chest

Adrien steps forward hoping to de-escalate the situation. “What is it now?”

Chloe whips around towards him, he takes a few steps back, as she comes closer, saying, “I have your letter...A letter that which, I rather resent!”

Gabriel’s raises an eyebrow towards Adrien, “And did you send it?” He asks him.

“Of course not!” He exclaims shocked.

Andre scoffs, “As if he would!”

Kim holds Chloe back, they both say simultaneously “You didn't send it?”

Adrien pinches the bridge of his nose “Of course not!”

Andre interjects Chloe from going after Adrien along with Kim, “If I may, what is going on?”

Chloe grumbles, “You dare to tell me

That this is not the letter you sent?!” She holds the letter out to him shaking it

He huffs going and taking the letter from her, “And what is it that I'm meant to have sent?” He glances down at the letter then begins to read it aloud, "Your days at the Opera Populaire are numbered. Marinette Dupain-Cheng will be singing on your behalf tonight. Be prepared for a great misfortune should you attempt to take her place…” he swallowed hard looking at everyone in front of him.

Andre and Gabriel glance at each other both bubbling with confusion and hate. “Far too many notes for my taste… And most of them about Marientte.

All we've heard since we came

Is Miss Dupain-Cheng’s name!!” They announce together

Madame Bustier comes in with her daughter, the doors creaking and her staff bring a hum to the room as it hits the floor. “Miss Dupain-Cheng has returned.”

Andre sighs, “No worse for wear as far as we're concerned. Where precisely is she now?”

Madame Bustier glanced to him, “I thought it best she was alone in her room.”

Alya comes over toward Adrien, “She needed rest..” she glances up at him giving him a soft smile.

He looks down at Alya, “May I see her?” He makes his way to the door, being stopped by Madame Bustiers staff.

“No Monsieur, she will see no one”

Chloe and Kim groan in unison, “Will she sing?

Will she sing?”

Bustier closes her eyes to keep from rolling them, “Here I have a note..”

All except Ayla make their way to Madame Bustier, all yelling, “Let me see it!!”

Gabriel groans, being the tallest man in the room, “Please..” , he reaches over everyone grabbing the note from Madame Bustier, reading aloud, "Gentlemen, I have now sent you several notes of the most amenable nature detailing how my Opera House is to be run.

You have ignored my orders...I shall give you one last chance

Marientte has returned to you..

And I am anxious her career should progress

In the new production of Il Muto. You will therefore cast Chloe as the page boy and put Miss Dupain-Cheng in the role of Countess.

The role which Miss Dupain-Cheng lays calls for charm and appeal…

The role of the page boy is silent which makes my casting in a word, ideal—I shall watch the performance from my normal seat, in box 5 which will be kept empty for me.

Should these commands be ignored, a disaster beyond your imagination will occur

I remain, gentlemen, your obedient servant

O.G”

Chloe and Kim’s mouth agape, “Marinette?!”

“What next?” Andre asks checking his watch

Kim rolls his eyes, “It's all a ploy to help Marinette!”

“This is insane” Gabriel sets the note down

Chloe snapped her fingers, the light bulb going off in her head, “I know who sent this! The Viscomte, her lover!”

“Indeed, can you believe this?” Adrien rolls his eyes huffing.

“Signora..” Andre begins quietly.

“O tradori!” She throws her arms up in the air, being dramatic per usual.

“This is a joke… This changes nothing!” Andre goes closer to Chloe

“O mentitori!” She lets herself collapse into a nearby chair, Kim rushing over to fan her

“Signora!” Gabriel yelps “You are our star! And always will be!” He announces

Andre slicks back his hair with his palms then straightens out his jacket, “We don't take orders!”

Gabriel nods in agreement, “Miss Dupain-Cheng will be playing the page boy...The silent role.” He says the last line sternly. “Chloe will be playing the lead.”

Chloe pouts, “It's useless trying to appease me!”

Kim turns towards the men, fanning Chloe faster, “Appease her!”

“You're only saying this to please me!” She grabs her handkerchief drying her nonexistent tears. Kim moves stray hairs from her face “Please her!” Both Chloe and Kim begin speaking at the same time, the more they plead together the faster they get what they want. “ Lasciatemi morire! O padre mio! Dio!”

Madame Bustier shakes her head, “Who scorn his word beware to those—“

Chloe cuts her off screaming, “You have reviled me!”

“—The angel sees, the angel knows..” she continues

Adrien sits rubbing his hands together, “Why did Mari fly from my arms?”

Chloe continues her fake tears chanting nonsense “You have rebuked me! You have replaced me!”

Andre and Gabriel beg her, egging on her mini drama performance, “Please Signora we beseech you!”

“This hour shall see your darkest fears..” she pulls Alya close to her as the four argue

Adrien rises from his seat in the corner going to Alya, “I must see her..” he whispered to her.

Kim gets in Andres face, “Abbandonata! Deseredata!

O, sventurata!”

“The angel sees, the angel hears..” Madame Bustier makes her way to the doorway, tapping Alya to follow her.

Adrien grabs her arm gently, “Where did she go?” He begged

Your public needs you! We need you too!” Andre begs Chloe, grabbing her hands. She moves her hands from him, “Wouldn't you rather have your precious little ingenue?”

“Signora no! The World wants you, Prima Donna first lady of the stage! Your devotees are on their knees to implore you! Can you bow out when they're shouting your name?” Andre sighs

Gabriel pushes Andre aside, sitting with Chloe, “Think of how they all adore you! Prima donna enchant us once again. Think of your muse And all your queues 'round the theatre!” He swoons as Andre rises back up going next to Kim “Can you deny us the triumph in store? Sing Prima Donna..once more!!”

Adrien makes his way to Madame Bustier, “Marinette spoke of an angel..”he begins and she shushes him.

Andre and Gabriel beg Chloe once more, “Think of your public!”

Chloe looks at them disgusted, “You took a snub, but there's a public who needs you” she mocks

Madame Bustier pulls Adrien closer to her, “She has heard the voice of the Angel of Music..”

Andre smiles helping Chloe turn back to them “Those who hear you liken you to an angel. Think of the cry of undying support—We get her Opera. She gets her limelight!”

“Follow where the limelight leads you” she smirks taking her fan from Kim. “Prima Donna your song shall never die. You'll sing again and to unending ovation” she continues to mock them as she circles around them, covering her smirk with her fan.

Gabriel lets out a shaky breath, knowing they’ve almost got her back in their clutches, “This misacating will invite damnation. Lunatic demands are regular occurrences. Think how you'll shine in that final encore! Sing Prima Donna once more!!”

Adrien looks to Madame Bustier with confusion but determination, “I must see these demands are rejected.”

Gabriel rolls his eyes at him, “Who'd believe a diva happy to relieve. A chorus girl whose gone and slept with the patron? Adrien and the soubrette, entwined in love's duet! Although he may demur, he must have been with her!”

Chloe smirks at Gabriel “Fortunata! Non ancor abbandonata!”

Andre smiles grabbing the letters throwing them in the trash, “You'd never get away with all this in a play, but if it's loudly sung and in a foreign tongue. It's just the sort of story audiences adore, in fact a perfect opera!”

Alya frowns, “For if his curse is on this Opera…”

All except Adrien, Madame Bustier And Alya, sing-

“Prima Donna the world is at your feet. A nation waits, and how it hates to be cheated!

Light Up the stage with that age-old rapport, Sing Prima Donna Once more!”

Kim, Chloe, Andre and Gabriel all exit to prepare for the show, Madame Bustier follows to prepare the dancers, “Alya! Come at once to the stage.” She nods at her daughter exiting the office.

Alya turns to Adrien as they come closer to the door, “my mother lied to Monsieur Gabreil and Andre..Marinette, she’s in my room, go quickly, they will start looking for her soon—“

“Alya!”

Adrien bites his lip as they exit the office. She turns behind her hearing her mother, “Coming!” She turns back to Adrien, she places a hand on his upper arm giving it a reassuring squeeze, “be careful, they will be looking for her soon enough to let her know chloe will be singing the lead, Good luck!” She smiles and leaves him.

He nods as she looks back at him before turning the corner. He tugs his jacket down, glancing down the corridor, before making his way to the in house, living rooms.

I AM SO SORRY I HAVEN'T UPDATED. I really am guys, these past few (alot) of days have been crazy! I had an issue with my college class I had to deal with right away but it's fixed now!

Luckily I only have class two days a week, but I babysit also so I hopefully will be going back to my normal update schedule by this week.

As always let me know what you think! I'll be adding my own flair for the beginning of the next chapter. I'm excited for you guys to see it!

Tags (let me know if you liked to be tagged!)

@findinglingling

@unabashedbookworm

@rubydrawsstuff

@alicedeoz

#phantom of the opera au #phantom of the opera #adrien agreste #alya cesaire #bustier #chloe burgeois #gabriel agreste #ml #ml fanfic #marinette dupain cheng

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