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chastiefoul · 3 years

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first kiss(es) | itafushi.

word count : 2.045

in which Itadori tell Fushiguro he is cute. very cute.

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Itadori and Fushiguro had made hanging out together every night a habit. There is hardly any day where they did not go to each other’s room where they did everything and also nothing. Some nights it would be movies, with Itadori spoiling everything unintentionally. Due to the training he just had not so while back ago, he already knew most of the famous movies were all about.

Itadori would like to call it knowledge but Fushiguro had made it perfectly clear that it was just straight up bragging.

Some other nights it’d also be quiet, with the dark-haired male reading and Itadori playing on his phone. Whether it’s loud or the opposite, it’s clear that these guys enjoyed the company of one another.

Though there is also a rare night like this. Where they both somehow laying on the bed with nothing to do, the sliding door that led outside opened a bit on purpose, just to let enough wind went in. Itadori would sneak a hand to Fushiguro’s raven locks, tracing his finger slightly along the strand of hair. Physical contact wasn’t something the younger male was familiar with at all but unless you had confronted him about this, not once Fushiguro had ever complained the subtle gesture.

Not that he should.

Itadori drew his hand back just to get something out of the boy beside him. Fushiguro that had been closing his eyes for the entire time turned his expression into somewhat of a discontent when the hand that was on his head was no longer there. It did not went unnoticed for Itadori as he chuckled softly,

“You know Fushiguro, I’ve been thinking about this for a while.. But you’re really cute aren’t you?” The salmon-haired man grinned, his eyes glistened with a slight obvious adoration, except of course not really to the oblivious friend of his. At this Fushiguro raised an eyebrow, annoyed. “Haah?” He said, displeasured, though if it wasn’t for the minimum light, it could be seen that Fushiguro’s face has been tinted with the color pink of embarrassment.

“See? That’s cute.” Itadori continued, still smiling. Clearly seeing how happy Itadori was teasing him, Fushiguro turned his back, sulking. “Shut up,” he mumbled incoherently with whatever little amount fight left in him.

“Still cute,” Itadori smiled yet again. “Honestly, you-“ Before Fushiguro’s complaint even reached its end, Itadori grabbed the shikigami user’s shoulder, and pinned him down against the bed. The gesture was perfect in timing, it was not rough nor it’s uncomfortable, it’s just right. At least that’s what Fushiguro think so, cause he shouldn’t know, he never encountered a circumstance such as this before.

Even then, Itadori totally caught him off guard, Fushiguro’s face clearly flushed, eyes running away.

“Yeah, totally cute.” His usual grin came back, looking down contently to a pair of dark blue orbs that belonged to Fushiguro. The gesture irked the raven-haired man way more than it should, he went to grab Itadori’s face, gripping it as a way of getting back at him.

“Ow, ow, quit being so harsh!” Itadori grabbed Fuhiguro’s wrist, stopping it before it’s harming his face any further. “Then quit being an idiot,” Fushiguro said with an annoyed tone, though as if contradicting himself, his one hand went limp, giving to Itadori’s touch completely.

Seeing that as a stamp of approval and an invitation to keep going, Itadori slowly drew his face closer to Fushiguro’s, bringing his gaze to his lips, making it obvious as to what Itadori wanted.

“Can I?” He lingered there for a moment before bringing his eyes back to Fushiguro’s gaze.

The latter man shivered under the usual goofy boy’s stare, though it wasn’t really an expression of scared but more like, excited? He never even thought about getting in a position such as this with his friend let alone finding out that he was actually eager for Itadori to kiss him?

Not letting his pride slid down yet, Fushiguro decided to be mischief about it, though honestly he was just as desperate as the other male to have his lips’ need met. “Can you what?” Fushiguro himself was surprised that he could manage a voice barely above a whisper, considering Itadori’s hot breath pressed against his jaw was kind of threatening Fushiguro’s insanity.

Yet, it was the same for Itadori. When you were pining someone below you to find out he had the prettiest face and had been looking at you with a gaze so desperate underneath those long lashes, it’s kind of decided early that Fushiguro Megumi is a man with a tremendous charm, and an irresistible one at that.

Wait scratch that. Itadori had always known that Fushiguro is beautiful. Stunning, even, if he dared to be dramatic about it. So it wasn’t a surprise anymore that situations like these are bound to happen, exactly like how people around them had been saying.

How Kugisaki had shared a knowing look that the both of them were too tired to interpret, how Gojo had been snickering quietly everytime the two of them were in the same room. Also the time where Inumaki given up a seat besides Fushiguro just for Itadori to sit, and that time too, and many more times after that too.

Everyone had long been involved in that relationship, before Itadori and Fushiguro could even figure out what was it in their chest that felt painfully tight, everytime the room visit occurred.

“Kiss you,” Itadori finished, drawing his lips dangerously close to Fushiguro’s, stopping at just the right distance upon not hearing a yes from the boy below him, though he’s guessing it was just to be annoying. “You always ask too many questions,” Fushiguro let out quietly, just enough for Itadori to hear, and just enough to let him know that he needed it fast.

Itadori smiled into the kiss as the younger male circled his arms around Itadori’s neck, bringing him even closer. Their lips met each other at an agonizing pace, yet it was just right for them and no one else. Though a tad sloppy for a bunch of firsts, it was just as passionate as any other kiss that happened at nights on different places. The kiss between the two was not any less meaningful than the couples that shared a goodbye kiss at mornings where one of them had to leave, it was not any less sweet than a quick surprise kiss they had seen so many lovers done, and it was definitely not less than a kiss that was shared between two platonic friends anywhere in the worl-

Wait. Why are they kissing?!

The teasing- That’s where Itadori usually knew where to draw the line and to not ever cross it, but as it’s been said before, they didn’t get a night like this that much. The dim room, the cozy breeze, the exhausment that could make anyone’s head is not on the right mind, and each other. It was a crazy coincidence that at the same time after staring each other for a good amount, Itadori had known that he will never meet a man more desirable than Fushiguro, and no one will ever has this magnetic effect on pulling him constantly just to be with the said person.

And the latter man has never wanted so much when he grew up, but that kiss that longed for him a moment ago, he felt like he could kill just to have his vacant lips be filled with Itadori’s. No, not just for that night where he was swept off his feet, but for next morning, and also a long time after that.

Realization descended after them at the same time, they both pulled away from the kiss. As painful as it was.

For a solid minute, there’s just silence. Both of them still trying to pick the words that had to be said after that happened. When the both of them finished observing whatever it was so interesting about the bedroom sheets –as they’ve been staring at it so intently- they both said at the same time.

”So-“

“I-“

“You first,” Fushiguro yielded characteristically. “Okay,” Itadori agreed, taking a deep breath somehow nervous, but isn’t it a bit too late for that considering the intense proximity they both just experienced?

“Shouldn’t there be something, you know, before this part?” The pink-haired boy said sheepishly, eyes darted around. Fushiguro was no better, his ears were red all the way to the tip, his heart beat loudly against his ribcage. “Like a confession?” Still, he managed.

“Like a confession.” Itadori confirmed, his gaze finally returned and rested it on Fushiguro’s.”Okay, you go first,” the younger male started—someone had to. “Wha-why me?!” Itadori protested.

“You kissed me first,” Fushiguro stated, “You kissed me back!” Itadori stared at him in disbelief, mostly because how he thought Fushiguro could get away with this with a weak argument such as that.

“Right, shouldn’t that be enough..” Fushiguro stopped halfway, not used to wearing his heart on his sleeve, “proof.. that I want you?” He finished, the last part was barely a mumble. Still, Itadori managed to get that. Of course he did. He never, not once, did not listen to what the quiet boy had to say.

Hearing that, a shade of pink appeared on Itadori’s face, a few darker shade that the one he has on his hair. He smiled through it, grinning from ear to ear. “Me too. I want you too. No, Not just because you said that first, but truly, I’ve wanted you for a very long time. I like you so much Fushiguro, Maybe I’ve just been too scared about this confrontation because of the change it might bring to us, or to you. I guess I was scared you’d look at me differently and honestly that would be worst thing to ever happened.” He reached out to the slender finger Fushiguro owned, holding it gently. The neediness and urgence that was once there has turned into an act so prudent.

That tugged some of Fushiguro’s heart strings, the rarity of a warm feeling engulfed him. “Stupid, the only change I’m going through right now is that realizing that turns out I can like you more than I already was.” His heart is full, to some extent, though it’s a very scary thing to admit, that Itadori has become such an important person to him that it is not possible for Fushiguro to be whole anymore without him in his life.

Without any further prompt, they both knew that words are no longer needed. Itadori reached out, this time with certainty and spring on his hands, Fushiguro just closed his eyes surrendering his lips, but how surprised he got when the one who made contact with the other male was his eyelids, so gentle, exceptionally incredibly loving, he couldn’t help but be overwhelmed with heaviness inside his stomach.

The kiss didn’t stop there, feather lightly trailing along the dark-haired male’s jaw like teasing because Itadori knew it wasn’t enough. Fushiguro was more sure of that because he could feel the smirk forming beside him.

Yet before letting Fushiguro has anything to protest against him, Itadori pressed a soft kiss, exactly like the one Fushiguro had been hoping for. He couldn’t help but smile and gave in, their mouth moving in an attempt to match each other. Honestly? They had no idea what they’re doing but it felt so damn good. The genuiness of a first kiss (well, second if you counted the impulsive teenage boys’ hormones) flew right between the two of them, there’s this rawness that felt like an electric spark every time their lips met each other. They couldn’t get enough, even though it was clear from the conversation they just had that doing this is something they’re gonna do a lot in the future to a point where they could already hear Kugisaki groaning and rolled her eyes at them, looking so done.

They pulled away, faces still extremely close to each other as if it pains them if it’s the opposite.

Still smiling, Itadori asked, “Now what?”

Fushiguro pretended to ponder for a moment, “Do that all over again?”

“Okay.”

They laughed, before leaning in yet again.

Let’s just say, those are a lot of kisses for a first kiss.

#this is purely self indulgent #itafushi #fushita #itadori x fushiguro #fushiguro x itadori #yuji x megumi

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lils-of-the-valley · 3 years

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Kiss It Better

It was 1 am and I just wanted to write dumb skater boys kissing. I miss writing kisses and they should kiss and be happy and in love. They are in love, but they should also kiss. (Also I'm on mobile so I hope the read more works)

Edit: I forgot to put the AO3 link here Can y'all tell how exhausted I am?

Reki was no stranger to injuries. Really, it was concerning the number of times he had ended up in an emergency room after a skateboarding accident. But the pain barely fazed him anymore, especially not the minor pain of scrapes and bruises. At this point, it was a daily occurrence, either from bailing while skating or from ramming his hip into the corner of a table. The latter was a little more frustrating though.

“Dude, you don’t have to make such a big deal out of it!”

Big blue eyes stared blankly at Reki before diving back into his backpack, rummaging through it. Reki sighed as he leaned back against the concrete, propped up on his elbows, his head hanging back. Langa was being dramatic as ever, making a huge deal out of what was essentially nothing more than a little scrape on Reki’s left hand. Sure, there had been a bit of blood, but the cut was barely visible! It wasn’t anything to panic over. Yet, Langa had insisted that Reki stayed put, right where he had fallen, while he hauled the backpack back to Reki before plopping himself down onto the concrete. He sat cross-legged in front of Reki while he dug through the bag, muttering something about alcohol pads and bandages.

“Those band-aids are for you,” Reki said, his eyes fixated on the swirls of reds and oranges and purples in the sky. The sun had started to set, it seemed. “Since you can’t stand the sight of your own blood. Unlike you, I can handle it. It doesn’t bother me. I don’t need patching up.”

“And I say you do.”

The firmness of Langa’s voice drew Reki’s attention back to him, his piercing blue eyes sending shivers down the boy’s spine. There was something demanding in Langa’s voice, something protective, something… pleading? Langa was worried about him? Given the way he was looking at Reki, it had to be. And Reki couldn’t refuse him, not when he was looking like that.

“Fine!”

Reki huffed as he finally let his body flop down onto the ground. Langa seemed content with the answer, returning to his scavenger hunt through Reki’s bag. This meant that Reki would have to occupy himself without his skateboard since he wasn’t allowed to get onto it until he was fully patched up. Thankfully, the ever-changing clouds in the sky were distracting enough. A bunny. A dolphin. A flower. A-

“Found them!”

A blue sky stared back at Reki, startling the boy. Langa hovered above him, holding a few sealed bandages in front of Reki’s face, a boyish grin contrasting his usual reserved and serious expression. A boyish grin that made Reki’s inside twist, his throat turning dry. He knew he could touch, that Langa wasn’t some porcelain doll that would shatter under his calloused fingers. He knew he could touch, that Langa would never refuse him the pleasure of passing his fingers through the silky blue hair, the pleasure of touching that beautiful pale skin, the pleasure of feeling those soft lips, but still, Reki resisted. Still, Reki held back.

He pressed his palm to Langa’s chest, pushing him away ever so slightly as he pushed himself up on his elbows once more, his eyes avoiding Langa’s general direction.

“Again, I don’t actually need them. The scrapes will be gone in the morning; no use in wasting band-aids on that.”

“But I want to do it for you.” A beat of silence. Then Langa was ducking his head, the blue silk falling in his face and drawing Reki’s eyes back to him. “You know, since you always patch me up after I bail? I want to do that for you. I want to take care of you, Reki.”

Oh! Reki’s heart skipped a beat. Oh, now that was adorable.

How was Reki supposed to turn Langa away when he sounded like that? Looked like that? How could Reki refuse Langa who seemed so small, so vulnerable, and oh so adorable? It was simply impossible. So Reki gave in, gave in like he always did because it was Langa asking and Langa could get him to do anything.

“Fine! Fine!” Reki sat up, presenting his scraped hand to a starry-eyed Langa. “But only because you’re cute.”

“No!” Was that a pout? “You’re the cute one.”

Reki couldn’t help but giggle at the boy. To think that the stoic and socially awkward boy he had met only a little over a year ago could end up being an absolute dork, a dork pouting because he was called cute. Reki never would have believed it if someone had told him that this would be his normal. Reki never would have believed it if someone had told him that Langa would turn out to be this dorky yet adorable boyfriend. His dorky yet adorable boyfriend.

“Well? Are you going to patch me up or are you gonna stare at me all wide-eyed until the scrapes disappear on their own?”

Langa blinked a few times before quickly turning his attention to Reki’s outstretched hand, a ghost of a touch fluttering over the scrapes. Hesitantly, he glanced between Reki’s face and his hand before carefully pulling out an alcohol swab from the makeshift first-aid kit Reki carried everywhere he went. It was pretty obvious that Langa was not in his comfort zone, not used to be the one cleaning wounds. His hands shook ever so slightly as he wiped Reki’s hands clean, but it was the gesture that counted. It didn’t have to be perfect because as long as it was from Langa, then Reki would smile ever so softly as he watched him put on a band-aid with the utmost concentration. It was the kindness and the care that had Reki fall a little more in love with the boy in front of him. It was the little things that made his heart melt.

“And,” Langa pressed one last band-aid to Reki’s palm, his long fingers passing over the fabric before curling around Reki’s, “all done. All clean.”

“Thanks, man.”

As Reki pulled his hand back, Langa’s grip tightened as he tugged the hand back towards him, surprising Reki. He felt his whole face heat up as Langa planted a kiss right in the middle of his palm, slow and careful. Reki barely felt the kiss, but he could see it happening. And he could feel it in his face, the fire that had ignited in his cheeks, in his ears, in his brain. And when Langa’s eyes met Reki’s, lips still pressed against the calloused tanned skin, a smile played on his pretty lips, a smile that drove Reki crazy.

“Kissing it better,” Langa clarified. “You always insist on the magic of kissing it better.”

“You…”

Reki huffed, finally managing to pull his hand back and holding it defensively to his chest. Langa knew what he doing to Reki. He knew that he was the reason why Reki’s face must have matched his hair. He was fully aware that it was entirely his fault and the bastard still had the audacity of looking smug about it.

Reki felt his stomach flip as Langa crawled over him, his weight in Reki’s lap while his arms caged the boy. Something glinted in those blue eyes, something Reki had never seen before. Something that terrified him, but also strangely… exciting?

“Well,” Langa licked at his lips as he glanced down at Reki’s lips, sending an electric shock down the boy’s back, “I could always give you a real kiss if you like.”

Reki’s mind short-circuited at the thought of having Langa’s hot mouth against his. He wanted, he wanted it so badly, but his body tensed at the mere thought of it. He wanted, he wanted with fiber of his body, but he shouldn’t. He couldn’t.

“I’ll be real good, I promise.”

“Okay!” Reki half-shouted in embarrassment. He had felt his eyes go wide at Langa’s suggestive tone. He had felt the twist in his gut. His face, his whole body burned as he pressed his hands to Langa’s mouth, pushing him away. Langa laughed against his hand, pretty and muffled. “Man, you can’t just say that to me! You-! I-! Dude! No!”

Reki’s hands dropped onto his lap, squeezed between his thighs while Langa straightened out, still sitting on Reki’s lap. He was laughing, hearty and unguarded, which made Reki’s heart flip. His face was also flushed, his pale skin tinted with reds and pinks. He was so beautiful. Langa was just so beautiful.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” he managed to huff out, finally calming his laughter. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

Something twisted in Reki once more, though this time it felt more guilty than anything. He just wasn’t particularly good with PDA. Sure, he knew he was an extremely tactile person, his hand constantly brushing against Langa’s, their shoulders bumping as they walked side by side, but everything he did, it could be interpreted as just bros being good ol’ platonic buddies. He had always been a touchy-feely person, especially with Langa, but still, it wasn’t easy being affectionate in a romantic sense. Just holding hands made his hands all sweaty and gross, his nerves getting the best of him. And god forbid they actually kissed in public-! No, Reki wasn’t ready for that. It was just too much. Just the thought was overwhelming him.

“Sorry.” Langa’s voice had gone quiet as he shifted on Reki’s lap. Reki could see he was reluctant to move but ready to do so regardless. “I really didn’t mean to…”

“S’fine, dude. I’m just… public.”

The wind caught in Langa’s hair, pushing it out of his face as he quickly glanced around the dark skatepark. How was he so effortlessly beautiful? How was Langa so damn beautiful all the freaking time? How was it that even under the shitty streetlamp, he still looked like a prince straight out of a fairy-tale? And when he looked at Reki like he was also beautiful, as if he were the only person in the world, it made him melt. Those blue eyes were only for him. Only Kyan Reki would ever get to look into them like this, see the way they sparkled like snowflakes under a bright sun.

“There’s no one around?”

Oh. Was that hope in Langa’s eyes? In his voice? Was it desire? Want? Need? Langa who, despite being reckless and shameless, was always so reserved and good, did he really want to kiss Reki that badly? And since there was no one around… Maybe it would be alright? It wasn’t like they would be interrupted or caught. No one came around this part of town, especially not at this hour.

Reki’s eyes skirted over the deserted skatepark once last time before finding Langa’s eyes once more.

“Just one.”

“Really?” Excitement, that’s what made Langa’s voice just a tad higher than usual.

“You get one kiss. That’s it.”

A grin broke across Langa’s face once more, a grin that made him glow. “Isn’t that what you always say?” Reki sent Langa a look of disapproval to which he answered by putting his hands up defensively. “Fine, fine, just one. If you can stop.”

Reki sighed at the boy before tugging him closer by the collar of his shirt. “Just shut up and kiss me.”

A breathless laugh broke from Langa’s lips before pressing them to Reki’s. Langa was like a drug; his kisses were the most addicting thing Reki had ever come across and it only took one for him to be hooked. His taste filled Reki, his sweetness hazing Reki’s mind. It wasn’t the first time he kissed Langa – it had already been weeks since their first kiss, clumsy in the middle of a shitty movie – but it didn’t mean it didn’t feel completely new each time. It had been weeks since that first kiss, but Reki just couldn’t get enough of his boyfriend’s mouth, of his kisses, of his touch. Especially not when Langa was licking at the seam of Reki’s lips, asking to be let in.

Everything happened in a blissful daze: the arms wrapping around Langa’s neck, the beckoning him closer if that were even possible, the slight fumbling to get comfortable, and the falling back onto the concrete, legs tangling as they always did. Sure, the cold ground wasn’t nearly as comfortable as a mattress, but with Langa’s arms acting like a pillow for Reki’s head, it didn’t matter. Everything was good, so good. It was so good, the feeling of Langa’s short, hot pants between the kisses. It was so good, the mumbling against each other's mouths, their names filling the little air between them. But nothing beat having their lips pressed together, wanting, needing the other. Nothing could ever beat that feeling.

Reki wasn’t proud of the whimper that left his lips as Langa pulled back completely, sitting up. The smirk was a cruel temptation. Langa was no fool; he knew damn well that he was torturing Reki as he shifted in his lap, his whole weight pressed into Reki’s thighs.

“You said one kiss, so,” Langa shrugged, lips pressed in a thin line.

“That was more than one, you fucking tease,” Reki muttered as he propped himself up on his elbows for what felt like the hundredth time that evening.

“Pulling out the big, bad words, huh?” A smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth as he leaned in to press a chaste kiss to Reki’s lips. Another whimper. Maybe even a moan. Reki wasn’t sure; he just knew he wanted more. “Wanna come over instead? Get some food, put on a movie, probably not watch the movie at all but it doesn’t matter since my mom isn’t-!”

“You stopped kissing me because you’re hungry?”

Laughter fell from Reki’s lips like the stars against the mid-August sky as his forehead hit Langa’s shoulder. He should have known. Langa had seemed hungry for both love-filled kisses and actual food.

Instinctively, Reki’s arms wrapped around the body against which he was pressed, feeling the light rumble of laughter and potentially of an empty stomach against his own body. Langa was warm. He was comfortable. He was safe. Langa was… home.

“Can we watch Spirited Away in your bed? No offense man, but your couch is shit to make out on.”

“You…” Langa shifted, causing Reki to peel himself off of him and look up at him. “You want to watch a kid’s movie while we make out?”

“It’s a good movie! And I’ve seen it like a hundred times, so I won’t be tempted to actually watch it.”

“No. I know you.” Langa’s hands found their way to Reki’s cheeks, holding his face ever so gently. “You’re gonna end up watching it. Again. For the third time this month.”

“Look! Look, it’s not my fault it constantly plays at my place! Chihiro just… she likes the movie because the main character has the same name as her. And I like it because… it’s good, man. Don’t hate on a good movie!”

Langa inhaled sharply, his eyes closed and his hands pressed against his lips. He looked like he was praying to whatever God was out there to hear him. “I can’t believe my boyfriend wants to make out with me while his little sister’s favorite movie plays in the background.”

“Well,” Reki shrugged and flopped back down on the ground, crossing his arms behind his head, “we could also not make out, I don’t care. It would be your loss, man.”

“No!” Langa was once more caging Reki with his arms, but this time, it wasn’t Reki that was panicking. “There is no fucking way I’m letting you off the hook that easily. You-!”

It was always so much fun cutting Langa off with kisses when he got a little too chatty. Every time, it would catch him off guard, his eyes growing three sizes for a fraction of a second before squeezing them shut. And his pale cheeks always turn a bright red, a color that, surprisingly, didn’t often blossom under his skin. Langa was almost always the one initiating the kisses, so having Reki be the one pushing himself up to catch his lips, it always left him a mess. Reki’s surprise kisses turned Stoic Langa, Cold Langa, Ice Prince Langa into this mess of dork, this stuttering and blushing mess of boyfriend.

Reki traced the line of Langa’s jaw, his eyes following the movement of his fingers. He had quickly learned that Langa melted at the touch, which made it a lot easier to convince him to do whatever it was Reki wanted. “You pick the food and I pick the movie or no more kisses for you.”

“Can it at least be Howl’s Moving Castle? I know you like that one too, but at least I won’t have the image of your little sisters seared into my mind while I try to kiss you senseless.”

“Fine, fine.” Reki’s fingers hooked Langa’s chin, beckoning him closer to press another kiss to his mouth. “I love you.”

“Love you too, Reki.” One kiss. “So much.” Two kisses. “Infinitely.”

#i still hate tagging shit #but here we are #sk8 #sk8 the infinity #renga #reki x langa #langa x reki #langa hasegawa #hasegawa langa #langa #kyan reki #reki kyan #reki #fluff #like pure fluff #lils writes

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flowerbloom-arts · 3 years

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A rather unneeded apology, don't you think?

Progress shots and thought process below the cut (warning, it gets heavy on pshycological analytical nonsense and spoilers for Exploits of Moominpappa/'s Memoirs, and it's really long):

Ah yes, Muddler angst, something that should be one too many yet you can't quite get enough of it-

So it all started with this little metaphor from this post I made a while back and I thought "Hmm... I should really make a follow-up for that!" so I did, and here it is.

This was originally gonna be a lineless painting but then when I started to do that I thought about how much of a drag it would be and scrapped that for my regular style but with cooler shading and coloring. I'm happy with it, it's been a while since I've done a full illustration and I'm proud that I managed to make this in like... (Checks timer on my drawing app) 2 hours and 25 minutes? Huh.

Anyway, this whole illustration is more or less just a metaphor going on in Muddler's head when he's cracked under stress, it's the "boat floating on your own personal ocean" metaphor like the post I linked above, it is indeed a constantly raging sea of stress and change and mental/lifestyle instability that's going on in Muddler's head and he's on a houseboat floating on it trying to balance and protect itself from the tides. It's always rocking back and forth but it's been doing that all the time for so long that it barely registers for him anymore, so he's living in this unnerving calm where the calm is not serenity perse but a lack of terror, yet, sometimes that raging sea manages to break through a window or two and flood the place as a good reminder that he isn't immune, he can and will drown for as long as things are like this.

The sea isn't a place of good memories for Muddler in either version of the book, like, the sea is so big that it's general emptiness on the horizon tickles his eyes. Before that he painted the boat red and got it all over himself and then painted his tin with the leftover paint, needless to say he had a rather traumatic night where the paint never dried and it got all over his food and bed and whiskers which drove him insane (or plume crazy I should say). He also had a rough time in his tin while packing for the riverboat and being swept away by the flood caused by Edward the Booble, he said his nerves (and his button collection) were all unsorted after the rest of the crew managed to get the tin on board. Then other stuff happens- an awful Hemulen Aunt boarding the ship (he literally wished death upon her, a rather extreme gesture especially for Muddler), the Hemulen Aunt being taken away by the Niblings (and the ensuing guilt he felt when he felt that it was his fault since he wished for her to be eaten), a rough and sticky night, being the first to realise the boat was setting off to sea unintentionally in the middle of the night, having to sit through a gale in which he got very sick- and that's just stuff that happened on the boat! He also had to suffer the likes of the revenge of the forgotten bones! The Ghost painted Muddler's tin and he cried about it, thinking it's a warning sign that he'll never marry! And he's the only one who was legitimately terrified of the Ghost, imagine being one of like, a 4 person friend group and being the only one scared of a real scary thing that directly affected you in one of the worst ways possible- vandalism of your own home. And don't even get me started on the fact that he lost his parents during spring cleaning and still believes they're alive.

With that being said, I believe we all understand that Muddler has been through alot, he had a revelation that adventures cause nothing but trouble for the poor guy in the middle of the book. And seeing how he cried at the idea of never getting married, we can presume he just wants a normal life after that. Thankfully, Fuzzy provided that through marriage and kids, even though they lost one of them by accident.

Now with this in mind, I have implemented a few elements from the book into the illustration. I've also followed some color-coding rules I've made up for myself;

Blue=Safety and comfort (Hodgkins is his uncle and is canonically blue-colored for the most part, not to mention that his Maxwell House Coffee tin is blue aswell, both are sources of safety for Muddler)

Green=Protection (Joxter is usually depicted in a green dress/hat, he stood up for Muddler atleast twice in the book and we can presume these weren't the only times he does it. Joxter is rather confident in his abilities despite being lazy and Muddler would rather admire that)

Yellow=Achievement/accomplishment (nothing much here, just uhh... Gold is yellow-ish and gold usually means you've accomplished something)

Red=Stress/general negativity (This is mostly coming from the red paint incident)

I've also added some small references and details. I've avoided using the ruler tool on my lineart to give it less solid feel to the backround and everything, showing how it's not supposed to be a full representation of reality, the pictures being faceless also adds to that. I drew an interpretation of the Muddler and Fuzzy wedding photo found in the moomin theme park, the gold medal on Hodgkins' portrait says "you helped" and it's supposed to be the medal that Hodgkins said Muddler deserved for helping him figure out the propeller (accidentally) in the Exploits version and I like to think he has that thought always in the back of his mind as one of the few times he's felt genuinely useful since he got so happy from it. Oh! And the picture almost completely hidden by the curtains is a portrait of his father and that's Joxter at the bottom looking like he's peeking over the curtain when really he's not. The curtains are green because they protect him from the red outside world, the suit and yellow dead flowers being darkly colored are supposed to represent a sense of meaninglessness or general distain, the red liquid is supposed to be red paint, not blood aaaaaaand the window is a slight shade of blue with a screen overlay.

"Apologies for being weak-minded" is supposed to be a rather insincere but tired quote from Muddler, he doesn't really want to apologise for cracking under pressure and having a literal breakdown but he feels like he has to because I think he just feels like a nuisance alot of the time and being so negatively emotional just makes things worse, so he has to come up with an apology rather than tell the person he's talking to the reason why he broke down, and belittling his own feelings by calling himself weak-minded. He knows himself to be "too" sensitive.

Anyway, that was too long a ramble. Just know that I'm not trying to take myself too seriously here, it's a silly amount of thought put into this but eh, I enjoyed it, and I thought you might want to read about it and if you made this far; thank you.

#moomins #moominvalley #art #moomin muddler #muddler #the muddler #illustration #trust me the stuff under the cut is really long #I wish I could put more tags here but I guess these are all of them that matter

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megmahoneyart · 4 years

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why did you draw michael who is white as looking more remorseful and human on half his face than helen who you depict as a black woman who appears angry with both of her eyes spiraled? even despite michaels vocal insistence that he is wholly an inhuman monster and his cruel actions you draw him looking more innocent and human than a black woman who has not done anything nearly as monstrous as him and held onto her human identity more strongly?

Okay! So, I use this blog to draw and not to talk, but I’m suuuper long-winded when I write. And to spare the general public, I’ve put this answer under a read-more. But it’s a good and valid question! And I appreciate anon’s concern; I thought the question deserved as good an answer as I could give. So that answer is below:

That’s a totally valid question! I didn’t intend to convey “remorseful” so much as, upset, with Michael. Angry wasn’t necessarily what I was going for with Helen either--so it sounds like my expressions overall aren’t reading super well. Helen was meant to be more, I think enthusiastic, is the word I’m looking for.

The big difference between Helen and Michael isn’t one of them being more innocent or more guilty than the other. The difference is the amount of conflict. Helen has repeatedly brought up how much better she is at being The Distortion than Michael ever was. Michael had a lot of knowledge about the Fears, and The Spiral, in particular, before becoming The Distortion than Helen did. And, along with that, he brought the baggage of being taught that his job was to fight the fears, and the baggage of being scarred by The Spiral before working for the Institute. He kind of sucks at being The Distortion because his job was to stop The Distortion from performing The Spiral’s ritual--and that leaves both The Distortion hating Michael for fucking up its purpose, and Michael hating The Distortion because it’s the embodiment of what he hated and feared as a human. Everything Michael Distortion does is double-minded--because part of him is like “Hey I used to work here, and these guys are technically my co-workers, and I kind of want to hang out with them, but I also hate this place” and part of him is “I want to Fuck Everything Up, and I hate All of these people and would be happy to see them dead.”

Helen, on the other hand, doesn’t have the baggage of foreknowledge or hatred. She’s Michael Distortion’s victim, at first. But the second she has an opening to turn the tables, she jumps on it. And the reason she had an opening is because Michael and The Distortion were at odds and schisming and in Conflict. She’s set up in season 4 to be a kind of narrative foil for Jon--as they have both become avatars without really meaning to (like the majority of avatars that have showed up on the show). In Season 4, Jon is constantly agonizing over what exactly he is now, and futilely circling around the morality of his continued existence. Helen, in season 4, is beyond this point. She has already accepted the Way Things Are now, and she’s dealing--constantly telling Jon he needs to deal with it (the reality of being a “monster” too). By season 5, she’s not just dealing, she’s Thriving. And in seasons 4 and 5, at any opportunity, she (Helen Distortion) is always down to remind Jon (and co) that she is So Much Better at being what she is (The Distortion) than Michael ever was.

I think Helen Richardson probably had a stronger character than Michael Shelley did, as humans as well. Not saying that one was better than the other. But Helen was a successful career-woman. Michael started at the institute as a scared kid, who was then groomed by Gertrude and psychologically experimented on by Emma. I could never see Helen Richardson ever being someone Gertrude Robinson could emotionally manipulate, or convince to “sacrifice” herself.

And all of that informs how I characterize these two characters’ personalities when I draw them. And that doesn’t touch on the race issue.

Unfortunately, TMA doesn’t explicitly describe many characters’ race or ethnicity. A Lot has been said about the few negative vs positive characters who are explicitly characters of color. It’s kind of a black-and-grey-morality podcast. But on the side of the protagonists/positively-portrayed you’ve got Oliver Banks, Adelard Dekker, Basira Hussain, Mikaele Salesa. On the enemy-aligned side you’ve got Jude Perry, Tom and John Haan, Manuela Dominguez, and Annabelle Cane. And those on the positive side are pretty flawed (aside from Adelard Dekker who is an anomaly on this show); and those on the negative side usually have at least some alternate-character-interpretations and can be viewed as sympathetic (lookin at you, Annabelle). A lot of discussion has gone into their characterizations and how that relates to their respective races--and the problems therein (Jude Perry is startlingly devoid of family concerns--when culturally a large part of being a successful businesswoman would usually relate to how it benefits or affects her family; Mikaele Salesa’s setting up an Apocalypse Bunker without the crew he cared for is peak White behavior; bastard cops that are WOC (like Basira) absolutely exist--but should a story about a WOC bastard cop be written by a white guy?; the Haans being avatars for The Flesh is straight-up racist; etc).

But again, the list of characters that are explicitly characters of color is Short. And the fandom filled in some gaps. Almost all of the characters get a variety of designs, and some characters don’t have a Uniform Fanon Race (like Melanie). But some characters are almost always portrayed as a certain race (Jon is almost always portrayed as Desi or Pakistani, Georgie is almost always portrayed as black, Helen is almost always portrayed as black). I came into the show late. By the time I arrived, Desi/Pakistani Jon and black Helen were the only Jon and the only Helen I saw when I showed up. (The first sketches I did for the show, I did before seeing any fan art, and before hearing any canon descriptors. As such, Georgie would be unrecognizable to most of the fandom--because I drew her white the first time I drew her; and Martin is Too Small in my first sketches--because they were drawn before I got to episodes that described him as tall and chubby and before I saw the fantart--which gives us the Big Martin we deserve). So that’s why my Helen is black. (My Michael is white because he is physically described early in the show--and is one of the confirmed white characters).

That said, I accepted the generally-agreed-upon fan depictions of Helen (and other characters) without a whole lot of critical thought from Me. I’ve since read a lot of good takes on why Jon is depicted as Desi and why his characterization has resonated with certain Desi listeners. I haven’t read any dissertation on why Helen is black. My guess is that, where there were no canon physical descriptions (like with Taz Balance before the graphic novels), the fandom Made representation because they wanted it and because they could. Maybe there was discourse, back in the day, on why Georgie and Helen are usually depicted as black; but I didn’t see it. My (completely uninformed) guess is that people liked Georgie. And people liked Helen. And if they could make the cool lady with a great cat that is incapable of being afraid black, and if they could make the cool lady who has sharp hands and set up her house in the Institute basement for fun black, why not do it?

If you, anon, do have strong feelings that Helen shouldn’t be black and why, feel free to pass that on to me. I am Not the authority on Helen’s characterization or her appearance--especially as related to race--as I’m 1) white and 2) just another listener of the show.

If I were to start drawing Helen as white, she’d probably be unrecognizable to people that are looking through the tag for their sharp-handed wife. And I like Helen. So without additional information, I’m unlikely to change my depiction of her. But! If you (or anybody else) do have additional information, I’m happy to see/hear it, and will take any concerns raised with me into consideration.

#tma #anon #ask #characterization #race #long post #readmore

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neon-ufo · 4 years

Text

Answering some OC asks

cool-human-98 said:

Since there's not much info about Ness, I'm really interested in what he's like. What do you have on him so far? Of course I'm asking about things that are not spoilers

Ness is 17, which makes him the youngest character in the entire story, and he acts like it too. He’s very careless, loud and free-spirited, with a good sense of what’s right and wrong.

He absolutely doesn’t know when it’s not the right time to have a big mouth and can get himself in trouble by talking too much, or not following directions.

He’s very eager to meet new people, because he didn’t have many chances to do so in the past due to reasons I don’t want to disclose yet.

He makes very quick judgements and will often make a decision in the spur of a moment, not really thinking about the consequences of it. He’s very much led by his heart more than his brain.

He loves comics and power metal, and I think the fact that Gloryhammer is his favourite band says quite a bit about him.

My friend once said he's a personification of the Ultra Pink Monster Energy drink and that’s a pretty good summary of him (thought I’d say he’s more of the Pipeline Punch flavour).

behold-a-bastard-in-this-house said:

Are there any details on Ciril's curse, maybe? As in, how he gained it and when? Thank you much!

Without spoiling too much of the core conflict of the story, Ciril’s curse was basically caused by him being too curious and going to places he shouldn’t have gone to. I am not fully set on the timeline of how long ago he’s been cursed, because it has to be lined up with events regarding some other characters (Mario and Ren), and I haven’t really sat down and properly match it up yet, but he’s been cursed for a couple of years at this point.

The curse slowly saps his energy, making him physically extremely weak; there are times when he can’t even get out of bed, and some days he can only move around with a wheelchair. He’s only 32 years old but looks much older.

While the process of the curse is slow, living with it at this point is terrible, as he’s not just weak, but he also can’t taste food, he’s constantly cold, his overall feelings feel very numb. It’s clearly out to kill him, and he has no idea how to lift it. Because death is his biggest fear, and he feels like he’s running out of time, he’s very desperate to save himself by any means necessary.

Anonymous said:

Does Vivid have a favorite meme?

Dabbing & Minecraft, no questions about it.

blacksheep28 said:

What's Vivid's big dream in life?

He’s not really a person with any big plans for the future, he keeps his options open! One thing he definitely wants is to make things that bring joy to people.

In the current time, he’s an actor in a community theater. Sometimes he plays guitar and sings on the streets and then gives his earnings to those in need, since he loves to perform, but he doesn’t really need any additional income, so he just does what he can to bring some overall good vibes to his community. If any bars have an open stage, you know he’s there.

He can play a guitar and piano, however he doesn’t want an actual career as a musician, or an actor, as he’d find that restricting. Basically, he’s just vibin’

bayygel said:

Who is most likely to cry when surprise punched in the face? Who is least likely to cry? I hope this question is up to your standards, Jim :) because I for one am very curious!

Vivid is a HUGE weenie when it comes to pain, his pain tolerance is non-existent. He will cower at any threat of pain, despite being pretty muscular and big. Being an actor, he’s able to put up an intimidating charade if necessary, but if his bluff is called he immediately retreats to avoid any further confrontation.

As for least likely.. About half the characters are pretty damn tough. Mario and Barbi would be hard to push to crying through pain (Barbi would cry from frustration sooner than from pain), and Ren is stone-cold. However, Otto is a clear ‘winner’ here, as life got him to a point where he’s too jaded to really care about much anymore, and that includes pain (which he has an extremely high tolerance for, he could probably lose a limb and not care)

Anonymous said:

I don't have a particular question but I'd love to hear more about ren! i guess if you need something more specific then maybe something about her sibling kind of relationship with mario?

Mario and Ren started off on pretty rough terms which caused her to be wary of him for a while. On the other side, Mario felt extremely bad about it and did everything he could to make her realize she’s safe and can trust him. Eventually, she came around and they’ve been really close ever since; he was the first person she ever felt calm with and he helped her a lot when it came to basically learning how to socialize, despite him being a total extrovert and her a total introvert.

Mario is an only child who always wanted a younger sibling, so meeting Ren filled that void for him and he protects and spoils her like a little sister, he’s willing to listen to her talk about her interests even if he doesn’t get it, he takes her out shopping, plays basketball with her, etc.

Ren is very aware of this and deeply appreciates Mario for it. He’s constantly supportive of her, and while Ren is the kind of inexpressive and quiet person that might come across ungrateful to an outsider, Mario knows better than that and knows that this means a lot to her.

Anonymous said:

On a scale of 1 to 10, how huggable are each of your characters?

Ciril: Not huggable - bony and thin, will greatly oppose to hugs. Em: Somewhat huggable - might oppose at first, but it’s very possible for his motherly instincts to kick in and a gentle hug will be returned. Mario: Huggable - but your bones will be crushed Otto: Possibly huggable? Might not know what’s going on. Alternatively, he might think you’re upset and try to awkwardly pat your back. Ren: Not huggable, will flinch. Barbi: Only huggable for friends, otherwise she will headbutt you in the face Vivid: Extremely huggable. Possibly the most huggable. Will always hug back. King: Not huggable. Will not like it. Ness: Huggable. Will be happy to receive a hug and might spin you around.

Anonymous said:

Did Jojo inspire your characters designs? If so, are there any specific characters who inspired the designs? And on the topic of design, who is your favorite and why?

Araki’s work influenced me in general, not just when it comes to character designs, it basically changed how I look at art altogether. A lot of the characters are directly inspired by stylistic choices, rather than specific characters;

- Crop tops. - While Em was not inspired by Kakyoin directly, he was inspired by how I decided to stylize Kakyoin when I drew him. - Barbi’s hair is inspired by Araki’s rigid style of drawing hair which I love a lot - King’s hair was inspired by Diavolo’s hair, because I interpreted Diavolo’s hair as having a leopard pattern, and that gave me idea for King’s zebra pattern - Similar as with Em, this isn’t a DIRECT inspiration from JoJo, but the way I draw Mario is slightly based on the way I stylized DIO - Ciril’s two-tone hair was inspired by my initial interpretation of Abbacchio’s headband being differently coloured hair on top of his head. - Ren’s pitch black no-shine eyes were inspired by Mista, and her spiky hair is a mixture of Narancia and that 2000s scene style where everyone gelled the hair at the back of their head - The ‘holes’ between the strands of Ness’ hair were inspired by how Reimi’s hair was drawn, I thought that was really cool.

As for my favourite, I’m fond of all of them since I worked on streamlining their designs a lot, but if I had to pick, I think King is generally the one I like drawing the most for some reason. I’m very happy with how Inverness turned out too, and Em being kind of a fashionista is fun to design outfits for.

Anonymous said:

Do any of your OCs watch anime? If so what type?

Ren is a bonafide weeb. Kuroshitsuji is her favourite anime because she loves Sebastian. Her favourite genres are supernatural mystery anime and slice-of-life anime. She prefers older shows and doesn’t really dig the hype of the seasonal shows, though she will occasionally check them out. She generally doesn’t like the Shounen genre. She likes Dragon Maid too, Fafnir being her favourite (as you can see she has a type). She uses Picrew to make her avatars.

Anonymous said:

Who of your OCs is the least athletic? Who's the most athletic?

Due to his current predicament, Ciril is by far the least athletic one, as sometimes he can barely walk. Before the curse, however, he was a traveller, meaning he was in a pretty good condition.

If we don’t count Ciril due to his curse, then Em would be the least athletic one. He’s slim and elegant and makes sure to stay that way, but any work out he does isn’t really preparing him for any serious conditions, he’ll be the first to lose breath if everyone ran a race (not counting Ciril who, frankly, can’t run.)

On the other side, Otto doesn’t look like it and doesn’t live like it, but he’s pretty much peak condition among my characters. He actively works out as a way to cope with the mess that is his life and had military training in the past.

(Mario is also a good competitor for this, being a fitness bro, but he doesn’t have nearly as much experience as Otto, and despite their difference in size, Otto could absolutely take him down.)

Anonymous said:

ideas on how any of your original characters would deal with self isolation/quarantine?

#oc #ocs #text #long post

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prettywordsyouleft · 5 years

Text

Boyfriend! Park Seo Joon

Thank you so much for your request! This is the first of two Park Seo Joon scenarios for today! Whilst I’m a huge fan of his acting, I actually had to do a little research on him to ensure some of my thoughts matched with his documented personality through interviews etc. All the same, this is just my interpretation, so I hope you like it all the same!

The first part is more story/scenario based, and the rest is based off thoughts I have of him as a boyfriend.

Confessing:

Before Seo Joon saw you, he fell in love with your hands. Their movement caught his eye as he walked passed a coffee shop on the way to the set for work, watching as you sketched in your art book. He didn’t realise he had stopped moving altogether, to watch as you shaded in your subject on the paper until he noticed your movement pause and felt your eyes on his face. It unsettled him a little to be caught staring and he awkwardly smiled, bowed his head in apology and moved off to where he needed to be. And despite being professional on set, he couldn’t shake how pretty your hands were, the delicate shape of your wrist and the length of your fingers still playing in his mind when lunch break was called. He knew that after three hours of work, there was a slim chance that you’d still be in the café but he made his way back there, all the same, stopping suddenly when he saw you still seated in the window booth as before. You soon felt eyes on you and looked up, this time giving him a shy smile. After entering the store and ordering something to eat, Seo Joon had sat down at a nearby table, trying not to bring attention to himself at his incessant gaze as you worked. You finally collected all your belongings up and got out of your chair, disappointing him that he hadn’t figured a way to approach you yet. He couldn’t exactly go up and tell you that your hands were pretty; it would probably make you consider him as odd.

You were moving now but instead of going to the exit you were walking towards him and he blinked a couple of times, smiling at you when you stopped in front of him. He wondered if you recognised him or not, even with the hat over his face he was often stopped in the street. The way your eyes hesitated to let your words out confirmed his thoughts and he let out a breath, pasting a more professional smile onto his face.

“Did you want-”

“You have beautiful eyes,” you blurted out, a blush forming over your cheeks. He was unhinged, especially when you thrust the piece of paper at him. “I uh, drew this.”

He glanced down at the paper you had given him, his gaze widening at the sketch you had done of his face, with his eyes being the most detailed part of the piece. He was touched by your efforts, his fingers gently running over the artwork as if he could feel all the strokes individually as you did them. You went to move away with your embarrassment but he grabbed your arm to prevent your departure, looking down at the hand that had created this artwork and had him entranced earlier.

“You have pretty hands,” he finally told you, and your blush deepened. “But you forgot to do something for me.”

“What?”

“You forgot to sign your artwork. How am I meant to know who created this for me without it?” he asked and you nodded, reaching into your bag for your pencil and leant down to scratch your initials and the date beside your composition. And with a shaky breath, you turned it over, writing down your full name and number before standing up straight, avoiding his gaze and bowing in farewell.

Seo Joon grinned as he looked over your name and your stealthily attached phone number too. It didn’t take him long to punch the numbers into his phone, ringing your number and placing the device up to his ear.

“Hello?”

“It’s me, the guy with the eyes.”

“Ah, and I’m the one with hands,” you played along, your giggle making him chuckle. You clearly felt more confident talking to him this way.

“I wondered if I could take your hands on a date?”

“I don’t know, they might be a little busy.”

“Too busy for beautiful eyes?” he questioned and felt a little drunk on your continued laughter. “I mean, I’m a pretty good date.”

“Are you really?” you mused and he nodded even though you couldn’t see him. “Well, I guess my hands would like to go on a date with you, Park Seo Joon-ssi.”

“So you did recognise me, huh.”

“How could I not?” you replied, and he was certain you were blushing again.

“So it’s a date?” he confirmed, and you agreed, telling him you’d wait for his text with the time and place. He hadn’t expected to end the day with new plans, but as he stared down at your drawing, he knew that he couldn’t you pass him by at all. There was something magical about you, and he was excited to find out what it was that captivated him.

Starting out:

Seo Joon isn’t as outgoing as he professionally appears to be and you were surprised to find a quieter nature within the man from the strong, confident types he played as an actor. Although he isn’t incredibly introverted either, he definitely took things slowly with you.

There was a lot of flirty banter, but even more, there was a need to connect on a conversational level, to make sure you felt the same way about your interests and opinions in life. And even though you didn’t agree on everything because that would just be odd, the way he appreciated your differences made your heart swoon for him further. You could tell Seo Joon liked your respect for his thoughts as well.

You were hesitant though. It was all fine the first couple of dates, perhaps because it felt like you had stepped into a Korean drama with how easily you had connected in the first meeting and date that evening. But as the weeks went by with a lot of talking through text messaging or night time phone calls, you realised this was your own reality and wondered if you could really accept that this gorgeous man who loved holding your hand in his whenever he met you was actually the real deal. You didn’t have a lot of dating experience and now you were choosing to be with someone who held a job that put him in the public limelight. It would mean your relationship was going to be different in some ways and you were concerned if you were good enough.

It was foolish to doubt yourself because Seo Joon knew that you were someone he couldn’t easily give up on. He was happier now that he met you, fulfilled in a way that didn’t happen even when he was constantly surrounded by friends, family and his staff members. It was a loneliness that he hadn’t realised he was still experiencing until you filled the void completely. Now with you on his mind constantly, exciting him as you grew closer and allowing him to have fantasies that he hadn’t thought of in some time, Seo Joon knew it was more than just your hands that had captivated him.

And this is why he was cautious with how much you were in the public eye around him, not wanting his lifestyle to become a burden to you. Although you were more understanding than most women he had met in life, he still wanted to protect you, to keep you out of the negativity that came with dating a celebrity. He never mentioned his relationship to anyone outside of his family and immediate circle of friends, and he frankly he had no desire to either. It meant a lot of your dates were in less crowded environments before they ended up just being at your apartment or his, both of you now comfortable enough to spend time together alone in the comforts of your homes.

Dating pros:

Seo Joon is a communication king. It was evident pretty early on into your relationship that this was fundamental for both of you. Your thoughts evoke some passion in him and although you are beautiful, so is your mind too. There is nothing better than knowing the man you love could talk to you about anything and know that he wouldn’t avoid talking about any difficult situation with you.

This means when it comes to arguments, you can talk your way through them, and it’s not often that you’re actively arguing as you have the ability to catch things before they reach that level.

He is naturally thoughtful, but in a way that isn’t to spoil you. Sure his affections are endless and you do feel insanely lucky whenever he wraps you up in one of his hugs, he is the type to take good care of you without crippling your own ability to do so too. He considers the way you speak of things and acts accordingly, always putting thought into the things he gifts you with. You definitely don’t receive a bunch of unusable knick-knacks, though he did have a small affinity for buying you cute stuffed animals whenever he was going away and couldn’t take you with him, just so he knew you wouldn’t be lonely. Every other gift has a purpose or a meaning behind it, and you appreciate this aspect to him. Not to mention, it is something you practice back with him, looking out for him over things he’d miss whenever he gets too busy or stressed out with work. Nothings better than a home cooked meal, massage and snuggles on the couch to make him feel like the most loved up man in the world.

Your relationship is an even balance of laid back and natural, but with a level of seriousness that matches your personal beliefs as a person and a partner. Whilst you know how to have fun with your boyfriend, you definitely care for each other in a mature, loving way. Your relationship isn’t based solely on the present (though it obviously is what you focus on a lot of the time), both of you have future goals that you have shared with each other and aim to meet along the way.

He is a gentleman and romance with him has a lot of traditional values mingling in which make your heart swoon every time he places his coat over you when it’s freezing out or surprises you with a candlelit dinner at home. After all this time together, he was still the same as he was in the beginning, and it was so attractive to have a man who believed in love like this. But he also held a lot of modern-day chivalry beliefs (except he’ll never let you freeze) and the mix between old and new is appreciated by you.

Dates aren’t always at home now and they are never repetitive. You do everything together, meet up with friends and family, and go to concerts or movies; even things like doing groceries together seem like a date. You have travel dates too! In fact, travelling the world together is a shared hobby, being able to explore different cultures together and rack up new memories is very rewarding.

Speaking of family, from early into dating Seo Joon introduced you to the people who matter the most to him and you had a good relationship with his family – heck you were basically family yourself now. The same could be said about yours with him; they treated him fairly and often gushed about him as their son in law.

Working out together is an important element, one you hadn’t expected to enjoy as much as you do now. Seo Joon is very good at assisting you in your training and his dedication to his health and body is no joke. You have definitely adopted some of his habits over time and admittedly, this relationship was great for your figure too. Speaking of figures, his body amazing and getting to see him in gym clothes is a bonus. I mean it’s not like you haven’t seen under his clothing either but we’ll save that until the intimacy section, shall we?

Clothing and fashion is an interest he has and together you both know how to make staple pieces look good with accessories and current trends. You don’t really need help in this department, being an artist means you have your own interest in how to create looks. But admittedly, you are pretty chic together at times and then comfortable at others. You aren’t into couple clothing, but you do have a couple bracelet and a few of matching scarves too since they are one of your favourite accessories, especially in the cooler weather.

You admire his self-maintenance, his professionalism and humble way of presenting himself. You knew your boyfriend had worked really hard to get where he is and isn’t idle in any way. It’s a mutual feeling though because Seo Joon is enamoured by your skill as an artist, in how you can use different mediums through painting, drawing and sculpting effectively. He admires your creative mind, and how dedicated you are to improving yourself with each piece of work. Plus, he’s lucky enough to be your favourite model these days and happily poses for you any time you request him to.

Finally, you are a part of his work too, helping him practice his lines, dramatically acting things out until you’re giggling at the humorous scenes, or crying when things are sad. Seo Joon loves how much energy you put into the relationship, and is thankful for your endless support for his career.

Dating cons:

Let’s get the most obvious one out of the way. His work demands a lot of his attention and time. Sometimes he can be on set for an entire week, and if he has to travel to locations around the country, or worse overseas, he can be hard to reach at times. But you knew this from the beginning, and sure it has its downsides, but you aren’t blind to any of this either.

He easily makes friends even though he is reserved in nature at times, as his attentive way of treating people attracts many people to him. Seo Joon’s generous mannerisms mean he can offer too much of himself to maintain relationships with various friends, both in the celebrity world and personally. It means even when he has free time in his schedule, he is still fully booked up and it frustrates you when he becomes exhausted. You know he means well and you support him as much as you can, but there are times where you need to put your foot down and stop him, which makes him frustrated at you. Sometimes you fight over this behaviour which makes you both feel pretty guilty because it isn’t an easy topic for either of you.

He often gets asked out by other celebrities. In the beginning, when your relationship wasn’t mentioned it made sense but now that he’s announced that he’s dating a non-celebrity you had hoped this behaviour would settle. And you know it was petty of you because you trust Seo Joon completely, but it isn’t easy to know he has so many love requests from the beautiful women you had once admired through the television screen. It sometimes makes you feel insignificant if you put any weight into your insecurities. You attempt your best not to allow this behaviour to rise often, but it is something you hadn’t been ready for, admittedly.

He sometimes takes a bit of time to step out of a role he’s been acting in and the changes in his own mannerisms when he’s deeply affected by his characters can be accidentally shared within your relationship, confusing you when he seems closed off as he tries to deal with letting go of his role.

Naturally, with any demanding type of job, he faces stressed moments in life like anyone can but he can become quite critical of himself during these times and it’s hard to dislodge the way he’s thinking.

He’s naturally quite competitive and when his mind is on a task, he’s not going to budge until it’s completed. Whilst this is a good trait normally as it shows his persistence and determination, it can also have the negative effect of not knowing when to give up and admit it’s too much for him. This is also apparent when you actively argue; Seo Joon’s not going to stop pushing his own viewpoint as the correct one unless you can give him sufficient evidence that unsettles his persistence that he is right.

Intimacy:

We arrive at the point that any PSJ fan would know about, this man can kiss.

Intimacy isn’t all about his lips on yours, but if you want to know more about how he will take your breath away, you can check out his Different Kisses HERE.

The type to greet you when arriving home from work regardless of what time it is; an unspoken rule that it’s perfectly acceptable to wake you at three am so he can hold you in his arms and release all his withheld affections on you from being away.

Lots of hugging, back, front, side – heck he even once rolled onto his side as you laid reading together with your heads side by side and hugged you like that, kissing your stomach and making you giggle at the awkward yet endearing position. If he can have it his way when it’s just you two he’d be hugging you all day and night.

Loves snuggling on the sofa with you, leaving kisses on the top of your head or temples.

An equal balance of telling you how he feels about you, and showing you with actions, his eyes intense either way.

Loves hearing you moan out his name as he’s riling you up during making out sessions.

Sex is passionate and I don’t see him having any major kinks, he’s not going to be dominant all the time but definitely going to like having control too from being naturally competitive. An equal effort on seeing who can be the one moaning first most of the time you lose, but are you really losing when you’re with him? Loves oral – both giving and receiving and likes to body worship, ensuring every inch of you feels intense pleasure.

The tempo can be soft and sensual or fast and heated, but either option has you both in a complete mess after.

His body is in great shape as is yours from all that working out so you have great stamina if you get what I mean.

Aftercare is very attentive; Seo Joon likes to ensure you’re both comfortable and cleaned up. He holds you in his arms and whispers out love confessions until you both fall asleep wrapped up in your love.

Dating Seo Joon is the type of mature relationship you always dreamed of having. The type with the fairytale beginning, the natural connection and growth but with realistic obstacles that you need to face for success as a couple. Knowing that he’s the man you see your every step in life with is overwhelming but very fulfilling and each step closer to your shared goals makes you feel like the luckiest person alive.

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Other Park Seo Joon Scenarios: Different Kisses with Seo Joon

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#park seo joon #seo joon #kdrama actor #kdrama scenarios #kdrama imagines #park seo joon imagines #park seo joon scenarios #boyfriend! park seo joon #boyfriend! seo joon #pwyl; boyfriend! series #prettywordsyouleft requested

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bemused-writer · 5 years

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The Cain Saga Vol. 2 - The Sound of a Boy Hatching

Note: Warning for spoilers and for the content of the manga series itself. It is rated “explicit” for its themes.

Volume 2 really gets off to a much more solid start than volume 1 primarily because it's actually focusing on our main characters, their backstories, and what makes them tick. I'm very excited to see Mary Weather once more; she's Cain's half sister and she excels at fortune telling. Upon meeting Cain, she tells his fortune. She says: "This card [The Hanged Man] refers to a man who will bring sorrow and suffering into your life. I also see that there will be... three victims. And this is your fate card. It's death. [...] You're going to die soon."

Cain’s reaction to this is kind of great but Riff’s is especially perfect:

No, not generally considered funny at all.

Now, I have to say, Mary Weather appears to interpret tarot cards very differently from me. XD Or maybe Japan just has different associations in general but The Hanged Man isn't necessarily a negative card and neither is Death. Fiction often does a poor job portraying tarot, though...

The Hanged Man usually means something along the lines of a perspective shift (because he's upside down), going down the less beaten path, etc. while Death shows the end of one thing and the beginning of something new. In other words, an intense change of some kind. Now, I don't know what spread Mary Weather was doing (and it obviously wasn't considered important to the plot) but I would love to know where she's getting some of this from. I mean, she could just be genuinely psychic and the cards are just for show. That might actually be what's happening; it's been too long and I can't quite recall. But if I had to hazard a guess (and I'm going to because I find this fascinating) I would say the first card was "what is around you" while the second card, as she says, is his fate card. If I'd been doing the interpreting I would have assumed something more along the lines of The Hanged Man represents someone around Cain who will make him reevaluate how he views things/force him to alter his habits (could easily be any number of the villains that constantly plague him) and as for the fate card , Death, I would have said that he had to let something go (most likely his past) in order to make peace with the present. He's holding something back, change is on the horizon, etc. ...I guess what I'm saying is that if you're going to bring tarot into a story be prepared for anyone who actually uses tarot to judge your interpretations of the cards. XD Anyway, as far as the story itself is concerned, Mary Weather is right on the money. Three people die in this short story (including her friend) and as for Cain's fate card... well, it remains to be seen. Either way, he decides to take care of Mary Weather and brings her back with him. Also, it's a relatively minor detail, but we learn that his father had affairs. We learn a lot more about his father in the very next chapter and it appears that his having affairs was the least alarming thing about him.

There’s also one more thing about Mary Weather’s prediction that I want to point out:

It would be easy to say this was referencing this chapter only but that’s not the case and Mary Weather’s prediction will only become more pertinent as the series goes on.

But before that, the final section of this chapter drives home a point that the previous volume was trying to make as well: self-sacrifice is the truest expression of love. As far as this series is concerned, if you love someone, you'll prove it by dying for them.

The second chapter is the one that really gets to the heart of the series as a whole: Cain, his father, Alexis Hargreaves, and Riff. It's really weird seeing Riff and Alexis speaking with one another amicably and it only gets stranger as Riff learns how cruel Alexis really is. Up to this point, we haven't really had a reason to think much of Riff; he seems loyal to Cain and he seems to be a good butler. That's literally all we know about him. But knowing how loyal he is to Cain only makes it more surreal as he stands by as Alexis whips his child's back. Riff is horrified, of course, but he doesn't really do anything aside from wonder why Cain still thinks his father loves him.

Honestly, I know whipping a child was a far more common punishment at this point in time but considering he's being whipped hard enough it's leaving scars on his back, reminiscent of how brutal a slave's punishment might be around this time period, you'd think Riff would be a little more concerned, especially since we just learned Riff was at one point training to be a doctor. Of course, there's a possible reason for why he isn't but I'll get back to that around when we get into Godchild.... Anyway, the reason Cain trusts Riff is pretty straightforward: Riff was kind to him when he was a child (he was 12 in this chapter, which would put Riff at 23), he acknowledged his presence when other servants wouldn't, and he swears to stay at his side, always. Cain has no reason not to trust Riff when he's done more for him than any other adult in his life has. I will point out, that while I'm going to assume this changes at some point, as a child Cain seemed to view Riff a bit like a possession, which is a decidedly aristocratic opinion. Riff doesn't do anything to dissuade him of this notion, which seems to indicate they're both very much of their time and status. Also, Riff was told Cain was somewhat strange by Alexis. When he finally meets Cain, he acts very strangely ("You can see me?") and promptly faints in his arms but this is what he thinks:

You don’t find this strange? XD Twenty-three-year-old Riff wasn’t as with it as present-day Riff....

Now, why does Riff stay with Cain? He's intrigued by him, that much we know for sure, and he wants to care for someone who has been so badly mistreated. Both of these reasons make sense but there is a final statement made by Riff that raises some questions:

You only exist to serve him? You’ve only met him!

But if you combine it with what Alexis said earlier in this panel here:

It’s all looking pretty sinister.

At the end of the chapter, Riff accidentally draws a tarot card from Mary Weather's deck. We don't see which one it is (and I can't remember if it's ever revealed) but considering what I do remember about the series I would guess he drew something like The Tower (chaos, destruction, shaken beliefs, etc.) or possibly The Moon (the shadow self, hidden depths, etc.) but that would be with my interpretations of the cards and, as we saw earlier, those do not match up with the manga's. 8D Now, Cain's father appears to die in this chapter but he, along with Cain's mother, are used as an explanation for why Cain's life is so cursed. In short, Alexis had a wife but the only woman he ever "loved" was his sister, Augusta. He forced himself on her and so she had Cain. The whole ordeal drove her mad and Cain only met her twice in his life at the asylum. The second time she saw Cain drove her to kill herself by jumping through a window because he looked like Alexis. On her deathbed she finally recognized him for who he actually was and she warned him to get away from Alexis, that her death would only make him worse. This is also when Cain realizes the truth of his heritage, which was hinted at pretty strongly this whole chapter:

And this isn't the first time a woman went mad around young Cain. The woman he thought was his mother (Alexis's actual wife) blamed him for his father's distant attitude toward her and she tried to kill him with a scythe. Where did she find a scythe, you ask? I have no idea. Maybe this is the kind of thing people just had on hand back then for the occasional head-lopping. (And yes, I know farmers use them to cut wheat but ... they weren't farmers.)

Present day Cain sometimes sounds a little sexist ("Why do girls love to do such impractical things?") but considering that's about as bad as it ever gets with him and considering how easily his perceptions would have been influenced by his past... I'd say we're doing pretty good. Now, when Alexis tries to kill Cain for "murdering" Augusta, he makes an interesting remark: "You took the only person I loved from me. Now you'll see what that feels like, Cain!" He's pointing the gun at Riff, the person he mentioned earlier was the only person who could "tame" Cain. It's pretty early in the series and his words could be meaningless but we already know Cain trusts Riff, so there could be some truth there. His father also says, "You'll go through life unloved and die alone." I suppose we'll see if that turns out to be true or not. But now we've gotten to see why Cain trusts Riff and, to a lesser degree, why Riff stays at his side despite how dangerous that actually is and we have some very good reasons to dislike Alexis. The third chapter is ... well, it tells us a little something about Cain, I suppose but it's largely just a murder mystery. Cain is meeting up with another friend (I honestly don't remember him having this many friends. So far they've all ended up dead or insane, though, so maybe that's why...). This one is named Professor Lambert and his wife dislikes Cain, which seems to just be a common attitude towards Cain as we saw in volume 1. In this case, her issue with him is that his main hobby is the use of poisons, and I guess that is kind of a weird hobby. He's also kind of rude to her to boot, so... Anyway, her husband, Lambert, makes a comment early on that already had me disliking him:

He's awfully cavalier about the fact that the second Cain comes to visit a girl dies. His inquiry about Riff also strikes me as odd; aristocrats did not much care about servants and I doubt they would have been asking about them. This goes to show that Riff is at Cain's side so constantly that to see him without is odd (Riff is largely absent in this chapter). He also asks about Mary Weather. It's noteworthy that Cain doesn't answer any of his questions whatsoever and simply discusses his wife's disliking of him. Anyway, the theme of this chapter is, once again, perverted love. In this case, Professor Lambert is a pedophile and he's the one who killed the girl at the beginning of the chapter, Elsie. Cain kills him using poison as he explains how he deduced everything and that the only reason he came was because he was hoping Mary Weather could meet Elsie. Apparently, they were friends at some point. So, Mary Weather now has two dead friends (she doesn't know about this one though) and all of Cain's acquaintances are bad. I'm also not sure how I felt about Elsie's portrayal in this story. Lambert killing her is being framed as definitely bad but their relationship itself is kind of just ... acknowledged, which seems like a weird way of handling something like that.

So, the main thing we’ve learned regarding Cain is he just wants to spoil Mary Weather. He wanted to find her a friend, failed, bought her some kind of present instead. I guess that's nice...?

Also, Cain smokes:

We see more of indulgent/protective big brother Cain in the next chapter. When Mary Weather admits knowledge of a grisly murder and says a servant told her, this is his reaction:

Riff is clearly exasperated; he probably knows Mary Weather is going to find this stuff out regardless, but he'll do as Cain asks. It also begs the question: how many people have been fired for this sort of thing?

As for Cain, he apparently wants to preserve Mary Weather's innocence. Considering his own childhood, I think I understand why. I think it might be too late, though, judging by the Mother Goose Nursery Rhymes she shares with Cain when he admits no one taught him any (and, you know, the time she spent having to live on her own).

That is the face of a man who is only now realizing children’s stories are deranged.

I feel like Cain is behaving out of character compared to what we saw of him before at the actual ball, though.

There's a woman at the ball he goes to named Gladys who is married. She didn't go to the ball with her husband, so everyone things she's available. Cain knows she's married, she hits on him, and the two go upstairs for some "activities" but she suddenly stops them.

I suppose Cain isn't really protesting exactly; possibly he's trying to warn her about the ignoble nature of other men, but it seems odd to have this after we see how much he didn't push Bibi despite literally paying her for her services:

I don't have a problem with Cain being promiscuous or anything but I think there could have been a better way of demonstrating the fact. This kind of tone is such a typical trope of shoujo manga from the era that I’m not sure if we’re supposed to be reading this deeply into it, however...

But Gladys does explain her behavior regardless and I just ... I'm not sure this is sound logic. XD

I understand wanting to confirm whether you're a sleepwalking murderer, but seducing other men to do it seems like quite the extra mile.

I should probably clarify that the whole dilemma of this chapter is that she does, in fact, think she’s a sleepwalking murderer due to how she keeps hearing a nursery song and then someone winds up dead while she sleeps. Regardless, Cain gets caught up in the whole thing and gets to know both Gladys and her husband, Radcliff.

...And Cain has gone from seducing the wife to hitting on the husband.

I don't think he's prepared for that, Cain... Also, Kuroshitsuji has been compared to this series before (and quite understandably) but this panel really drives home the similarities to me:

A young(er) aristocrat, lounging about, as the servant reads off some details about a murder mystery, and they solve it together? The aristocrat comes from a cursed family? The butler is weirdly good at everything? I mean...? Toboso must have read this. The main difference is that while Toboso dances around the dark subjects in her manga (for the most part; certain arcs are more blatant) Kaori Yuki will just flat out tell you all the horrible things happening. I think this story has the most sympathetic characters so far, though. Gladys and her husband, Radcliff, are both a bit ditzy and a lot of fun because of it. But seeing as this is The Cain Saga no one can remain happy for long. In short, Radcliff was actually the murderer and he did it because he was being confronted by noblemen who had used him in his youth (it's kept somewhat vague but it was almost certain sexual abuse). Gladys is shocked that her husband would kill anyone and because of that short shock/rejection, he kills himself. I think this is the first time we see Cain actually regret getting involved in a case. He says to Riff: "Everyone has scars that they would rather die than let their loved ones see."

He's speaking of Radcliff's physical scars, of course, but also the emotional ones left from abuse. He is also referring to the exact same duality in himself. He has physical scars but it's the emotional ones he really doesn't want anyone to know about. He understands the pain Radcliff was going through all too well and can see himself in him. He never meant for Gladys to wind up a widow either. He was trying to solve a murder mystery but in this case the men being targeted deserved to die. I think this is also the first time we see Cain dealing with people that aren't related to him or a previous acquaintance in any way. The last chapter of this volume is pretty short but it shows us how Cain's extended family dealt with Alexis's death and the fact someone needed to take care of Cain. In short, they dealt with it badly! One of Cain's cousins, Andrew, attempted to kill him the previous night. It came about because Cain overheard he embezzles from the Hargreaves treasury. However, it turns out it wasn't Cain who died but an unnamed friend of his he'd switched clothes with beforehand.

This raises so many questions and no answers are offered. Did he intend for this friend to die? Did he intend to take him from the orphanage and adopt him...? And why is this "first friend" never mentioned again? How did they even meet? But the woman who killed him is given justice; Cain kills her in turn. ...The aristocracy is unpleasant. And that wraps up volume 2! I really enjoyed this one. The stories are a lot stronger overall and they all focus on Cain in some way, which makes for a much more consistent tone.

#cain saga #count cain #godchild #Bemused's post #long post #meta/review/thoughts

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aion-rsa · 4 years

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Frankenstein Adaptations Are Almost Never Frankenstein Adaptations

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In an age of adaptation, we still don't have a faithful adaptation of Mary Shelley's classic genre novel.

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Mary Shelley's gothic novel Frankenstein is a story constantly being retold — but almost never has it been retold faithfully. In 2015, we got Victor Frankenstein, the latest in screen adaptations bearing the Frankenstein name, but having little to do with the original text.

This habit of less-than-faithful adaptations of Shelley's work goes back a long time. The history of Frankenstein adaptations is the history of hodgepodge narrative parts continually being stitched, torn, and re-stitched back together into an amalgamation of what has come before. But, when "before" is 200 years of stage and screen adaptations, source material and inspiration bleed together, and the "original" becomes distorted — like a game of temporal telephone.

But past the narrative convolution that comes with the passage of time, Frankenstein has seemingly always been a text that eschews faithful adaptation. From the very beginning, on the stage and as one of the first films ever made, Mary Shelley's original vision of a man and the creature he created has rarely been its own...

How Frankenstein Came to Be

For those with an interest in English literature, feminism, or the birth of modern science fiction, perhaps the story of how Frankenstein came to be is as famous as the book itself. The basic tale was first written down by an 18-year-old Mary Shelley (then Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin) in 1816 while she and lover/future husband Percy Shelley were visiting Lord Byron in Switzerland.

Dubbed “The Year Without a Summer,” the eruption of Mount Tambora had the Europe of 1816 in the clutches of a volcanic winter, leaving the idle group with little to do in the form of outdoor recreation while staying near Lake Geneva.

read more: The Bleeding Heart of Dracula

Instead, the literary colleagues took to reading German ghost stories to one another, leading to the challenge that they each pen their own ghost story. And thus, one of the first works of modern science fiction was born. Frankenstein, as a full novel, would be published anonymously two years later on New Year's Day in 1818.

Do you Know the Story of Frankenstein?

For those unfamiliar with the source material, Frankenstein is an epistolary novel, told in a series of letters from Captain Robert Walton to his sister, as well as in his journal entries (it should be noted that this narrative framing very rarely makes it into screen or stage adaptations).

Glory-driven Walton is on an Arctic expedition when his crew finds a cold and broken Victor Frankenstein. They pull him aboard, and Dr. Frankenstein relays the story of the monster he created to Walton--the monster he is pursuing across the ice.

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It is a story of creation and abandonment and family. The Creature is arguably much more of the heroic, sympathetic protagonist here than Frankenstein, whose sin is not in playing God (though some have made that argument) but rather in leaving his creation alone in a confusing, cruel-to-difference world.

Unlike so many of his on-screen interpretations, the Creature of the novel is eloquent, thoughtful, and — at least at first — inspired by the beauty of the natural world. Later, he uses his gift for language to articulate his anguish, telling Frankenstein, "I am content to reason with you. I am malicious because I am miserable. Am I not shunned and hated by all mankind? You, my creator, would tear me to pieces and triumph; remember that, and tell me why I should pity man more than he pities me?"

The First Frankenstein Plays and Movies

If none of this plot or backstory sounds familiar, it’s probably not your fault. (Well, you could read Frankenstein, which is one of those classics that holds up remarkably well.) Most screen adaptations pick and choose what they want from the original material, more often drawing inspiration from the 1931 movie starring Boris Karloff than Mary Shelley.

read more: 13 Forgotten Frankenstein Movies

But a full two decades before director James Whale made the iconic horror film, Frankenstein was already a movie star — in fact, the story was one of the first committed to film. Frankenstein's adaptation to the screen happened roughly a decade after cinema itself was invented, making this self-admittedly "liberal adaptation" from Edison Productions one of the first movies ever.

Video of FRANKENSTEIN (1910 Edison Production) HD

One of the notable changes form the novel in the 12-minute film is a happy ending for Frankenstein and his new wife, Elizabeth (spoiler alert: in the book, the Creature kills Elizabeth on their wedding night, and Frankenstein himself later dies on the ice. Pretty bleak).

Of course, the decision to make Frankenstein into one of Edison's earliest motion picture productions did not happen in cultural isolation. There is an adaptation path to be traced between the publication of the novel and the creation of films like this 1910 classic and the 1931 version.

According to this Film School Rejects article, 1823 — the first year Frankenstein was adapted to the stage — had five separate plays on the stage. It was these early stage adaptations that first introduced the character of Victor Frankenstein’s assistant Fritz, who would later evolve into the Igor we know from so many later movie adaptations.

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The Boris Karloff film actually drew inspiration from a 1927 stage play by Peggy Webling, rather than the novel itself. And, moving forward into the era of such classics like Young Frankenstein or not-classics like the recently-released Victor Frankenstein, one could easily argue that most subsequent Frankenstein adaptations have more to do with James Whale’s 1931 film — and its 1935 sequel The Bride of Frankenstein — than they do with Shelley’s work.

The Most Faithful Adaptations to Mary Shelley's Frankenstein

Though many Frankenstein adaptations are more interested in the 1931 film or some action-oriented blockbuster (yes, I, Frankenstein, I'm looking at you), there have been attempts at a more faithful version over the years.

Kenneth Branagh took a stab at a faithful retelling of Frankenstein with his 1994 film Mary Shelley's Frankenstein. The movie does a slightly better job articulating the nuances of the Creature than most other adaptations, but still falls short of the mark. The film also changes the ending in a particularly jarring way, not only bringing the Creature's bride to life, but giving her Elizabeth's head and memories. Yikes.

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David Crow makes a good argument on this site that Penny Dreadful's interpretation of the Creature in the form of Caliban is one of the most faithful versions of the character ever brought to screen.

Everything from the Monster's raven hair to his loquacious love for John Milton was transferred to television in tact. However, if you're looking for an adaptation that not only takes on the iconic character, but the full story, I would recommend the National Theatre's stage version undertaken in 2011.

British film director Danny Boyle brought Frankenstein to the stage starring Benedict Cumberbatch and Jonny Lee Miller. The two well-known actors alternated the roles of Victor Frankenstein and the Creature every performance, creating a more literal thematic connection between the two characters. Two sides of the same coin. Two creatures eventually brought down by their guilt, hate, and anger.

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The production was a relatively close adaptation of the original novel (with the problematic addition of a rape scene), and was broadcast to cinemas around the world through National Theatre Live, meaning that this adaptation, in some sense, was also a screen one.

However, the performance has yet to be released on DVD and, according to the theater, never will be if the play's creators have anything to say about it. The Powers That Be prefer that the ephemerality of the performance be preserved. One can only hope this means Frankenstein will find its way to cinemas again for more encore performances.

Why Does Frankenstein Resist Faithful Adaptation?

Why is Frankenstein so rarely adapted with a sense of fidelity? One need look no further than the earliest stage adaptation — Presumption: or the Fate of Frankenstein (1823) — to at least partially answer that question. Chris Baldick's book In Frankenstein's Shadow details how the play made great efforts to appease conservative backlash (many found the novel subversive and atheistic).

read more: A History of Frankenstein Comics

The production was nonetheless boycotted by a "friends of humanity" group, prompting the play's management to release the following statement: "The striking moral exhibited in this story is the fatal consequence of that presumption which attempts to penetrate beyond prescribed depths, into the mysteries of nature."

Furthermore, director Richard Brinsley Peake introduced the Frankenstein's assistant character who "prepares the audience to interpret the tale according to received Christian notions of sin and damnation by telling them that 'like Dr Faustus, my master is raising the devil.'"

Almost two centuries later, Daniel Radcliffe plays an incarnation of this character designed to explain to the audience how they should feel about Frankenstein's playing God in Victor Frankenstein.

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The Importance of the Female Perspective

As the daughter of anarchist philosopher William Godwin and feminist Mary Wollstonecraft (who died 11 days after Mary's birth), Mary Shelley was a fascinating woman, one with much to say in a culture not-so-interested in what women had to say about it.

One of the reasons Frankenstein so endures is because of its examination of the arrogance of man and the failings of a world without empathy — a theme that, of course, can be explored by anyone, but one that doesn't seem to get a lot of play in works undertaken by privileged white men.

It seems important to note, at this point, that most of the Frankenstein adaptations (though certainly not all) have been undertaken by men who are perhaps less culturally-motivated to consider the more traditional way life is brought into this world. After all, due to the limitations Western society places on both genders, while science has historically been a man's domain, child-rearing has, historically, been a woman's.

Journalist Sady Doyle recently responded to Victor Frankenstein director Paul McGuigan's recent assertion that Mary Shelley's original work is "dull as dishwater," by outlining the convincing theory that Mary Shelley wrote Frankenstein as a sort of revenge for her sister Fanny (given name: Frances), who was abused for being illegitimate and eventually killed herself, writing in her suicide note: "You will soon forget there was ever such a creature as..."

There are many interpretations of the Frankenstein story — many of them autobiographically-based. This is one of the reasons it is such a good story. But a parent's neglect and the toll it plays not only on the child, and everyone in his life, is certainly a central one. And one that is often neglected in Frankenstein adaptations in favor of exploring the themes of science, nature, and man's hubris specifically in relation to his work. These interpretations are not mutually exclusive, but the latter is often valued over the former.

It is perhaps easy to look at Frankenstein, and its two male protagonists, and to adapt it with little attention to the importance of women and other socially-devalued characters in the story. After all, they are all periphary characters. But they are the characters who suffer the most. Or at least the ones who suffer the most with the least amount of power to change their fates.

Victor and his Creature are constantly suffering, but they have created their own suffering and have many chances to alter their own destinies. Elizabeth and the Creature's female companion are never granted that same power.

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The Future of Frankenstein Adaptations

As this Den of Geek article points out, faithfulness does not equate to quality. Some of the most faithful screen adaptations of books are the worst, while some of the least faithful adaptations can become something better. There are too many variables involved, too many possible permutations to make sweeping generalizations. And, in the world of Frankenstein adaptations, for example, Whale's 1931 film remains the classic, one that continues to influence culture in its own important ways.

However, it would be nice to get a modern Frankenstein adaptation that is more readily available than Danny Boyle's stage version and more complete than Penny Dreadful's Creature — if only for all the high school English teachers who need something to show when they are out sick.

Sadly, as far as I know, there are currently no faithful Frankenstein adaptations in the works. What is happening in the Frankenstein adaptation world? Recently, a whole lot of biopics about Mary Shelley. In 2017, Elle Fanning played the author in Mary Shelley, a conventional biopic that told the story of the relationship between the young author and Percy Shelley, as well as the ways in which Mary Shelley felt out of step with her time. The film boasted a female writer, Emma Jensen, female producers, and a female director, Haifaa Al-Mansour (Wadja).

Elsewhere, HBO Max has ordered a series called The Shelley Society from Riverdale/Sabrina showrunner Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa. The series will depict a young version of Mary Shelley, who moonlights as a hunter of monsters and supernatural threats (including a manifestation of Mary’s own literary creation, Frankenstein’s Monster).

Perhaps a continued interest in Mary Shelley's fascinating life will eventually drum up some excitement for a more faithful retelling of her most famous story. In the mean time, we'll have to make do with what we've got: one of the best genre novels of the last few centuries.

Kayti Burt is a staff editor covering books, TV, movies, and fan culture at Den of Geek. Read more of her work here or follow her on Twitter @kaytiburt.

Read and download the Den of Geek NYCC 2019 Special Edition Magazine right here!

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Feature

Books

Kayti Burt

Nov 21, 2019

Frankenstein

Mary Shelley

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from Books https://ift.tt/2NhOpee

#aion-rsa #Books

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hellpasta · 5 years

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The Hell AU (And why it exists)

Alright motherfuckers, here it is, the worst creation I’ve ever made.

The context for this AU is that creepypasta is a huge trigger for me due to abuse I would rather not get into, but due to my abuser’s actions and our mutual interest in creepypasta at the time, it developed into a trigger for me.

And I fucking hated it.

I went on for three whole ass years with it, never able to enjoy the thing I used to love without remembering them. I used to love the stories, not because they were good, I thought they were godawful at times (still do), but I loved the way people would take the same basic plot and put their own little twists to it to make it their own. I used to love seeing how people interpreted the characters, watching how they took little stories with sometimes hardly anything about the characters behind them and fully fleshing them out together into a generally accepted viewpoint, even if the result wasn’t reminiscent of the original, but it was still created out of people having fun. For three years, I never felt fear towards these characters, and in a horrible twist of irony, I felt fear for three more years to follow after leaving the situation I was in.

And despite everything, despite getting panic attacks over these characters, I wanted to go back. I wanted to enjoy it again, without that horrible person, with the knowledge I have now, I wanted to at least be able to look a character like Jeff the Killer dead in the fucking eyes and feel nothing.

So for three years, I worked on it. I worked to get over my trigger all on my own. I did research, I tried whatever I found, mainly exposure therapy. I tried inching closer and closer, trying to get myself more and more comfortable with it. It was slow, and frustrating, and I thought to myself countless times, “This isn’t working, I need something better, but what?”

One day, in the middle of math class, I had a fucking revelation. The trick to overcoming a trigger or fear is to associate it with something good, basically train yourself into thinking it’s a good thing. My main concern was with the characters, I couldn’t even say their names without getting a pang of fear. So, I put my art and comedy skills to good use, by making shitposts.

Now hold on, before you start making a copypasta out of this and start going “oh my fucking god this is the most horrible thing I’ve ever read”, hear me out for a second. You see, shitposts are the most positive thing ever for me, I fucking love shitposts. I love drawing as well, and my immediate coping mechanism with anything is to laugh at it. So, I did what I do best, find the humor in something that was horrible to me.

By now, I had exposed myself enough to act out this idea, and I fucking did it. I drew the stupidest things I could think of with various creepypasta characters, drawing them from pure memory to make them even worse, as well as to get myself more comfortable and not have to risk a panic attack during the shitposts. The first one to ever be drawn was BEN, with the joke that his black eyes and tears of blood were actually just heavy amounts of expensive mascara that ran constantly because it was never waterproof. (or it was just Jeff screaming about how he can’t blink, but I don’t currently have that shitpost on me right now)

And from that, it got worse.

After hearing about the incident with Laughing Jack and his creator, it was deemed he would never be drawn seriously, and would now be deemed Rat Jack since he looked like a weird rat dog bird thing with rabies and hates his creator, runs around on all fours, and bites people so he’s kept on a leash under the watch of BEN because he’s the one of the only people immune to rabies since he’s from a video game.

Jeff has eyedrops, since he can’t blink due to his lack of eyelids, but when he can’t find those he’ll take the nearest water bottle and squirt it directly onto him. He’s also visually impaired due to his lack of eyelids as well, and drinks by deep throating straws.

Slenderman is... a stick figure. However, you never see his face, it’s always obscured by something, kind of like the secretary in The Powerpuff Girls, so all you ever see are little stick legs. His voice is also a high pitched anime girl voice if that’s relevant.

Eyeless Jack is just BEN but with a mask on, everyone knows it, but he denies it constantly.

And there’s way more.

I posted them on my personal instagram, and people absolutely loved it. They were extremely supportive of me, and honestly, it helped a whole lot with lessening the effects of my trigger. So, I decided to post it here, publicly, for more to enjoy.

It took me a whole year to get to this point, and while I still feel fear looking at creepypasta, I’m still making my efforts to go back, starting with making this account. Maybe I’ll still feel fear no matter what I do, or maybe I’ll fully get over it and be able to enjoy it again. Only time will tell. Regardless, I’m still trying my best, and I’ll keep on trying my best.

Oh, and if my abuser is reading this and you know you’re the person I’m talking about? While I never want to come into contact with you again, and you probably don’t even want to realize or own up to your actions, I forgive you. Please don’t come up to me, as you can see, I’m trying my best to move on despite my brain telling me not to. And in a way, thank you for being part of the reason behind this AU, it’s made me happier. Despite the struggles I went through, despite being at fault as well for never fully confronting you about it, despite this AU being made in blood and tears, thank you. I’m happy now, and I’m taking my steps forward, and I hope you’re happy too.

#creepypasta #eyeless jack #ben drowned #jeff the killer #slenderman #laughing jack #hellpasta au

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thegreywitch-onyx · 5 years

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One Year Later

This post is pretty much just for me but I figured why not make it public in case anyone can gain anything from what is going on with me. It’s long and I’m not good at separating my thoughts into cohesive paragraphs so if you decide to read this hunk of word vomit... good luck.

It’s been almost exactly a year since I have posted on this blog, or done anything remotely related to my craft at that. A lot has happened; I’ve moved houses, I’ve cut toxic people from my life, I’ve gained new friends, I’ve reconnected with old friends, I’ve adopted two new amazing kittens, among a mass of other happenings that go on in a years time, not all good and not all bad. The one thing I haven’t done is my craft, to the point where I don’t know if I can even call any kind of craft “mine” anymore, how can it be mine if I have nothing to do with it? I don’t do spellwork, I don’t do ritual, I haven’t divined anything, hell I can’t even remember the last time I lit a damn candle nonetheless doing it with intention. This all came to a head with me recently and I realized that no matter how many good things I have in my life right now, the bad things are taking precedent and I’m not happy. I haven’t been happy in a long time, and that isn’t just because I’m not practicing my craft at all, it’s also because so many things that are out of my control are taking over my life. My fiance and I have been fighting constantly and having arguments that would make Ares pick a side and go to war, and I believe this is the source of my troubles. See, for me love and harmony in my relationships is very important to me. My fiance is my best friend, my partner in crime, my chosen family and my other half and lately we haven’t been on the same page. We have both been making decisions that are mentally and physically unhealthy for us individually, and as a unit. Without going into extreme personal detail he is currently staying with family for a little under a month and I am going to be by myself (with our animals of course) until that time is over. We currently live in central Florida. I type this post at 6:30 pm on Friday, August 30th 2019. In two days what is predicted to be a severe hurricane (category 4 already and has plenty of time to grow) by the name of Dorian is projected to hit Florida right on the central east coast so I’m going to be in the absolute thick of it. My fiance and I will be riding this storm out separately, through no choice of my own I assure you of that. I was raised in Florida and have always loved the weather here, I adore hurricane season and as terrible as it sounds I always ache for a storm to hit and knock the power out for a few days. I know storms in the past have caused great destruction but who are we to build such easily destructible buildings in such an environment and expect them to last forever at the mercy of mother nature? Anyways, I’m familiar with this experience, I’ve done it many times... though never alone. And I mean totally alone other than my animals, my close family is all too far for me to reach and I honestly wouldn’t want to burden any of my friends with bringing two dogs and two cats as well as myself into their homes to ride it out with them for whoever knows how long the fallout from it will last. All in all what I’m trying to say is I’m fucking terrified. I took a moment to think to myself and calm myself and figure out where to go from here and the first thought that popped into my mind was “pull a card” I was taken aback, I haven’t had that thought in so long. Before I abandoned my craft I was learning the tarot, slowly but surely, a card a day, a day at a time using the Rider Waite deck and the Rider Waite guide to help me learn to interpret what the cards were saying to me. So I grabbed my deck, shuffled, split, spread and pulled one card with no specific question in mind but rather a request for guidance through this coming storm that is hurricane Dorian, my engagement, my life. I pulled the ace of swords as shown above and I included as well a picture of the page from the guide that goes into detail about it’s meaning and symbolism and how it pertains to different aspects of life. I was blown away by what I drew, instantly before I even needed to grab the book I noticed that the hand holding the sword is emerging from a dark cloud which to me symbolizes the hurricane, the fact that its an ace affirms that yes, you will go through this alone but the hand is holding the sword triumphant. The suite of swords is symbolic of the element air, thought, intellect, the mind. It’s almost as if I’m being told that once I get over this fear in my head of being alone, not just in this moment or for this storm but in life in general, and face what is coming, I will be able to think clearly and take proper action to come out on top. The part that really got me though is the “six drops of gold” it states in the guide that this is in reference to the major arcana card “VI-The Lovers: the story of Paradise lost and Paradise regained”. That’s all I needed there I suppose, we have no intention of separating it’s just hard to get through a spot like the one we are in and this message reassures me that we will get there together and even if we don’t it will be paradise either way for it will be for the best. It feels so anticlimactic to try to explain with words on a screen what I felt when I was reviewing this card and how everything it said to me made perfect sense, and I could feel that this was the message I was not just needing to hear but absolutely meant to hear. I feel more lighthearted and easy minded now knowing that no matter what happens I have the opportunity to come out above it, and whether it be in paradise regained or solo and holding my own sword it will be my own. The book says for the card of the day reading: “Rise up, stand up straight, and benefit from a new clarity!” and I do feel more clear. This is what I miss about my practice, my craft, my spirituality... feeling like absolute shit about something and taking the time to pull a card and assess it, or light a candle and gaze into the flame, or draw a bath and let the water envelop me and coming away from these small things feeling refreshed and reassured that I can make myself happy through the simplest things. On top of all of this I just realized while typing this that today is a New Moon... what a day... what a better time to cast away the things that don’t serve me and open the door to people and mindsets that do. Anyway if anyone actually read this... welp, there’s a few minutes you’ll never get back lol.

#onyxthegrey

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halfusek · 6 years

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You Left Me in a Heartbeat

I wrote a fic about my interpretation of how things were between Joey and Henry: from before founding the studio to the moment they split up and a bit more. Also it includes a certain theory I would like to discuss in a seperate post some other time. Hope you enjoy! Huge thanks to @pipesflowforeverandever for beta reading and helping me with getting this thing readable! <3 Warning: ...violence.

✪ ✪ ✪

There is nothing wrong with dreaming. Excitement filled his head and buzzing thoughts were running million miles per hour through that brain hidden under dark hair. Although none of that amount of thinking was focused on the real world. At least not yet. Which is why the owner of fancy looking (but actually really cheap, he was just a broke student with nothing but dreams and 60 cents in his pocket, well, at least for the rest of the month) black shoes didn't even notice his feet were constantly switching being attached to the ground between toes and heels. His sight seemed to be focused on a certain covered in lights sign which was hung way above the cogitating head, at the top of an entrance. He was standing close to the gate with the cinema's ticket booth in the middle, his pointy nose pointed at the sky, expression peaceful, shoulders relaxed, and body slightly bending back and forth.

Oh, no, surely nothing wrong with dreaming, especially dreaming big, but who is to say those smaller ones cannot be fulfilled as well? Even those silly ones.

The cinema was showing an animated production tonight. And he had just enough money to see it and only slightly starve for the next week!

He arrived way too early for the show, but he couldn't just sit at home! So he went out for a long walk, well dressed, which wasn't most comfortable, but God, did he feel good!

To be fair it wasn't just the show his mind was currently so occupied with. Oh, it surely is fun doing alone, but what an experience it must be with a company!

He heard his name being shout out from across the street. The man turned around on his heel and sent the best grin the mouth under the pencil moustache was able to make.

Especially good company!

Henry was with some woman.

Joey stood still.

When the pair finally approached him, he whistled under his nose and then bowed. Both of his arms moved right away, one behind his back, and the other one in front of him, reaching for her hand.

"What a pleasure meeting you, my lady,” she giggled and Henry couldn't help but roll his eyes, though his lips twitched, forming a smile, "Can I know your name?”

"Linda,” they exchanged an energetic handshake, "You must be Joey?”

Said man gasped and put his hands on his chest in disbelief.

"Wow! Well...” he pouted comically and put his finger on his chin, other hand resting on his hip, "It is a possibility.”

Linda snorted.

"You know,” she took Henry by his arm and turned her head to him, cascade of blond hair flowing with that movement, "When you said it's just some cartoon I had second thoughts about going... but it might be fun after all,” she bit her lip as she turned back to Joey.

"Oh?” Drew asked, his mind completely ignoring the compliment, "You don't like cartoons?”

"I mean... I never really tried watching any... who knows, maybe it's fun. I know a fella or two who seem to enjoy it," she showed her teeth in a beautiful smile.

Joey noticed with how much affection Henry looked at her face. His eyebrows frowned a tiny bit.

"Let's try making it a three then," Henry beamed and pulled his girlfriend after him to buy the tickets. He did it in such an adventurous way, she couldn't help but laugh.

Joey watched them from behind. He couldn't move his feet. This was stupid.

He was stupid.

He wanted to pay for them. Only the two of them. He didn't expect-

His body shaked for a second. Only now he noticed how cold it was outside. Or...

He took the first step.

They won't last.

He took another step.

They will break up soon and he will never see or hear of Linda ever again.

He came up to the gate and bought a single ticket, then followed his company for tonight.

He won't lose just like that.

After the seance, Linda’s love for toons started and was growing ever since. She couldn't draw a straight line, but was interested in her partner's passion.

He can't lose.

Few years from this night they are planning to get married.

✪

Music was so loud as if the world was ending and it was the last opportunity to dance ever. Wonderful combination of bodies moving to the wild rhythms, people shouting as long as they had air in their lungs, liters and liters of alcohol and pure happiness – truly the most humane form of insanity. Everyone was dressed in their most expensive clothes they should take care of and nobody cared as they waved their arms and legs, drowning in the ocean of sweat and panting breaths.

They owned the place tonight, newcomers could either join or stay being outsiders which ended for all of them in leaving. Judging by how, hm, unusual the party was, it effectively scared away those who could have something against some of its rules. One woman entered looking for someone to make love to, but went out scoffing as her moves resulted in nothing because she aimed at a wrong pal, currently making his own moves towards another pal. How weird!

Oh, those artists. Such deviants!

Joey was forcibly pulling Henry away from the table, despite all of the yet-to-come-animator's protests.

"Come ooooon!” tall man’s voice sounded lower and slowed down. Also very demanding at the moment, "Don't tell me you're not gonna dance at a celebration of YOUR OWN show!”

They finally both ended up in the middle of the chaos which was the said celebration. They were like two pales standing still in a storming sea. Now they either drown or move. Henry didn’t seem up for swimming.

He doesn't like dancing. Joey only knew he performed a few slow ones with Linda, but she wasn't there to get him out of his comfort zone this time.

Obviously Joey was obligated to step in.

"I-I don't know what to do, I feel weird everytime I do this, I-"

"Don't think about it, just do it!” they had to yell in each others ears to make anything out of their conversation.

"I can't. I can't!” light reflected in Henry’s glasses as he looked back at the table.

"It's like slow dancing! But faster!” Henry didn't need to turn again to his friend to see that big grin of his, but he did it anyway just to send him a mildly annoyed look.

"It's not!”

"It is! I'm gonna... fucking... show you!” Joey grabbed his hands and pulled, which took Henry by surprise.

"What the-"

"Think of waltz! But don't be strict! Use some instinct, for crying out loud you're the one with a girl!”

And so they took few first steps like in a classic waltz, which didn't go well with everyone else's tempo but Joey didn't care. Henry got more nervous.

"I told you I-"

"Shut up! Keep! Trying!”

Drew can be really exhausting with his motivational attitude and never-giving-up speeches, but Henry decided to listen to him. After all, he was usually right.

They took their steps faster. Then Joey started leading them into slightly different ones, and with time and occurrence those differences started increasing.

Henry found himself catching up and they both noticed that.

When they achieved a somewhat satisfying pace and didn't bump into others as much, Joey suddenly pulled Henry closer and whispered to his ear something the shorter man couldn't quite catch but it surely included the words "dancing demon" and he bursted out laughing.

Sillyvision pitched their idea.

Way later that night two figures struggled with walking down the street, both clinging to each other. They were trying hard to keep their balance yet still ended up moving between both sides of the road. Luckily for them it was quite a quiet neighborhood, no cars in the sight. There was only one cyclist who tried their best to avoid them with the accompanying sounds of the bike’s horn.

Their long walk was completed at a construction field. Not a recommended place for the drunk, but things were about to start happening here in a few days, only several materials have been gathered for building.

Joey wants to stand on his own but Henry didn’t let him – he knew that would end in the tall man laying face down on the dirt – so instead of making a majestic spin in the middle of the place with his hand pointed at the surroundings, he did an awkward turn-around, which almost knocked Henry off his own feet.

"Look. At. This!” words were pouring out of his mouth in a bulky mutter, "This will be ours. This IS ours.”

"Yeah,” Henry simply replied but then decided to elaborate a bit, "It’s… it feels amazing.”

"Yes! It does,” dark hair fluttered as the head it was on nodded. He kept doing that as he responded, "I think I’m gonna return today’s alcoholic be… be-ve… rages.”

"Ew. Let go of me then. And not on our future floor.”

"Imagine s-someone will be, like, sitting there, like, drawing, and then, I’ll like come to them from behind and be like-"

"Oh, Jesus.”

"Sir.”

"God.”

"You’re sitting on my barf.”

Henry didn’t let this low level joke make him giggle. He made an excessively serious face.

"You’ll be the worst employer.”

"I’ll be an amazing employer. So honest.”

"Please, don’t.”

"Yeah, no, I’ll lie on occasions.”

"I meant don’t puke on our legacy.”

"Oh.”

They took a sit on a stack of desks and breathed in silence for a while. Their shoulders were touching.

"I think I’m better now.”

"Good.”

"I’m so happy,” Drew’s voice broke as tears rolled down his cheeks.

"It sure doesn’t sound like it,” Henry made an awful joke attempt as his own tone hit a higher pitch and he felt a sudden urge to blink more.

Both men raised hands to wipe their eyes- only to be interrupted by their own bursting, bubbling laughter. Cartoonists put their arms around each other and they wobbled, they laughed, and they cried.

They were tired but it was the best kind of tired. The kind you feel after successfully achieving something, so you can rest a bit and let that accomplishment bring some joy into your life.

Henry rested his head on his best friend’s shoulder.

It was so warm. The night was cold and the alcohol wouldn’t help them keep a decent temperature for long, but they simply had each other.

At that moment, Joey could swear he was burning.

His hand found its place on Henry’s hip, long, thin fingers were trembling. He took in a deep, shaky breath.

Henry felt the chest he was almost laying on shiver and for a short moment there was a sensation grabbing his face by the hot hands of confusion. It lasted a few seconds until Joey stood up and took three steps forward. Henry, not expecting this, ended up falling on his elbow, so he was in a kind of semi-recumbent position, his mouth slightly opened. He watched Joey put his hands on his sides, and turn back to him. Shorter man almost expected some sort of negative expression, but the other surprised him with a smile which could only be described as a smile of a dreamer.

Henry forgot to remind him of being careful, because he knew his friend had something important to say. So he listened to the man of ideas.

"This,” he threw one hand in the air, "This will be great.”

His hand fell back on his hip.

"But it’s just the beginning. It will be greater.”

Henry raised his eyebrows and blinked.

"We will expand!” Joey suddenly released an excited shout and lifted both arms to the sky as if he wanted to grab all the stars.

At that moment Henry was almost certain he did. He got up and approached him.

"What do you mean?”

"We’re gonna make it big! Literally!” Joey let out a laughter before he explained, "The grounds were so cheap because most of them are located above a huuuge cave found many feets underground! Of course we won’t start building above that part, but later we could easily use it for building something…” he made a pause and put an emphasis on the next word, "under!”

"Oh, my,” Henry mumbled, genuinely surprised. This lack of knowledge didn’t bother him much. Not now, "That’s… that does sound great… although it will take a lot of hard work before we’ll be actually able to use something… something like that.”

“Yes. Hard,” he grinned widely, "and happy.”

Eyes behind the glasses rolled.

Joey noticed this is how Henry tries to mask his lack of confidence. He patted his friend’s shoulder.

Back then he used his observations for motivation instead of manipulation.

It’s funny how things change over time.

"We’ll make it,” corners of his mouth fell down a bit so the smile appeared to be more gentle, "You just have to believe.”

"Yeah, yeah,” Henry sighed and closed his eyes for a second, before looking up at his pal and reaching his hand to the one resting on his shoulder to grab it in a reacourging grasp, "Thanks, I will try my best. We will try our best. Right?”

Joey turned to look at the foundations of their workshop and released his hand from the touch. He repeated quietly but undoubtedly, "Right.”

Henry didn’t seem to notice weird reactions on his friend’s side and Joey was both relieved and disappointed by that.

He could have tried to make a move on Henry. Well, in fact, he has been trying. His crush already was in a few relationships before and he always waited them out and they always eventually passed.

(He had a bad feeling about this one.)

He didn’t want to interfere. He wanted Henry to be happy the way Henry wanted to be happy. It was the only fair way. But he didn’t see any dangers in his current one. Linda wasn’t… a threat.

(This time he didn’t have a girl just because of social pressures.)

He could try lying to himself, but in reality he was scared of rejection.

(Henry really loves her.)

What if that dream does not happen?

He closed his eyes for a moment. When they opened again, green irises shined with determination.

They will make it. Belief is all they had before and it’s all they need. It’s all he needs.

They will make their dreams come true.

It’s a funny thing.

How so much can fall apart so fast.

✪

He stretched his back and let out a silent groan. No, he needed to stand up, even for a few seconds. And so he did, all his limbs tried to go as far away from his torso as possible. Brain automatically got filled with air. That felt refreshing. He twisted and bent his body before sitting down again. Just as he was finished adjusting his chair, he heard steps coming from the closest room. He peeked his head to the corridor.

A tall figure approached a long table that Henry could only see a small fraction of from this position. The other person wore a black, long jacket, which shoulders were covered in snow, that also was slowly melting on the dark hair making it a bit wet. Joey put some bags in the middle of the table and came back where Henry's sight could reach him. He took off his gloves and threw them next to - how Henry suspected knowing his friend - some warm food he bought for both of them. Cold, currently slightly red hands, rubbed each other energetically and the man grinned.

"Want some coffee?”

"I want you to get your ass over here and help me," his smile was rather sour but shifted to a tired and calm one, "But sure. Just right after that – you stay there.”

"Right, right," Joey did a reassuring gesture and headed for the kettle. He wanted to get a proper break room someday, but Henry couldn't really see it right now. Irrelevant. For this room to have any use they would have to have proper breaks first. At that time everyone was working really hard.

Well they had to. But they wanted to.

Happily tired.

The animator sighed.

After a while his friend was in Henry's little corner with something to fill his stomach and give a little boost to his head. Henry muttered some thanks and tried not to consume everything at once.

It wasn’t the first time he forgot to eat during drawing. Always, even when he did this as a hobby, he since had that problem. This didn't strike anything alarming in regards to his job, though.

He hasn't become aware of his workaholism yet.

Even Linda wasn't concerned yet, they haven't seen each other since that whole thing started but they both tried their best to stay positive. Of course there will be challenges on the way, especially at the beginning. But they won't give up, no, sir.

Joey took a sit on the other chair present in the room, which he once brought in and never got out. It was its only use as no one really needed to come here except for them. Wally or Norman were coming every now and then, but those visits never really required sitting.

Joey let Henry eat in peace and before asking anything, he took a look on what the shorter man was working on. He crossed his legs and studied the frames.

"Aw, that's no fun. I can't even criticize you for anything. Those look perfect,” his tone was mostly playful but with bits of pure admiration. Henry fought the want to hide behind an exaggerated modesty by declining every compliment which dared to tickle his ego. He couldn't just take it though, so he responded with a teasing joke.

"I would introduce my foot to your crotch if you did after last Friday,” he found himself only half joking. He knew Joey well and he was aware of their problems with perfectionism, especially in his pal's case, but the first time it occurred to him as a bigger issue was the aforementioned Friday. Joey didn't accept that character model but he didn't have to reject all those frames Henry did with it...

Joey's lips slightly twitched.

"Sorry. I'll make up for it. No business trips for the whole week.” Joey put one hand on his chest and raised the other, at which his friend chuckled a bit. He meant it and that was enough for Henry. That's great when you have a friend as your boss. You know you can trust him.

"Well then, let's begin!” Henry beamed at him. They assigned what needed to be done by which one of them and set goals for today, each day and the whole week. Deadline was closing in but they still had loads of time. They could do this. Joey moved to the other room with such a strong aura, he wasn’t even taking normal steps, but made small leaps, which made Henry choke on his coffee.

At moments like this you could say they were getting high on believing.

✪

No.

The smiling devil was mocking him.

No.

He turned another paper sheet into a ball and threw to trash.

He let out a silent sigh when he put the pen back in action and his wrist sent a complaining sensation.

No, Henry, we can't go on like this.

She said.

Wrong again.

He tore the sheet apart.

No.

He couldn't work like this.

He had to.

He felt something hot and wet in his eyes.

No.

He needed to be better. He couldn't lose her.

He took the pen back in his fingers and it was at the moment his hand twitched and emitted hurtful spasms through his arm when the water broke through the barrier of his bottom eyelashes.

He grabbed his right hand with the left one. The pen fell on the wooden boards.

Defeated.

"No...”

"Henry...?”

He almost jumped in his seat. Glasses bent askew when he turned his head to the source of the voice.

Joey.

He started wiping of the tears. It wasn’t really effective since he didn't even bother to take the glasses off. He just didn't want his boss... his friend to see him like this.

Well. Too late for that now.

Joey leaned back on his desk. A few months have passed since they started it all and the second chair was moved out of here.

Surprisingly for both of them it didn't take much for Henry to start venting. He never realised how much he has been keeping to himself. How much has bothered him. How bad he felt.

How afraid he was of talking about it with anyone. And his best friend he used to talk with about everything... was a part of the problem.

Heavy thing clenching onto his heart disappeared as he felt relief after Joey's reaction.

Understanding.

He was almost afraid they wouldn't get along as they used to.

Many things weren't as they used to be.

"Linda will be so happy,” Henry sniffed for the last time and used the tissues to stop his face from looking like a mess, "And right now we need every bit of happiness we can get. We planned some big things but... I don't know, maybe they are too big for us...”

"Nonsense!”, Joey exclaimed before he bit his own tongue, "There is nothing on the way to your dreams, Henry. Nothing.”

"I start to feel as if this idea sounds nice only on paper," that's what the animator said, but Joey as an experienced leader and manager knew what his employer meant: convince me. Motivate me.

"Okay, listen to me, dear pal," he put his arm on Henry's shoulder and leaned in a bit so their heads were on the same level, "Of course the idea sounds easier on paper! All ya gotta do is write it! Now – action – is what requires more commitment. But what would you get from just that paper? Welp, nothing, nada, zero.”

"Alright, I get you, please-"

"Do you kind of want it or WANT IT WANT IT?!”

Henry let out a frustrated groan but muscles on his face betrayed him and he smiled and he hated it.

"I want it. I want her.”

"Then get the hell out and make your future wife happy.” he said it as an order but it was one Henry will one hundred percent willingly listen to.

This was a good moment. There has been a lot of stressful situations recently around the studio. Everyone knew what they wanted, everyone knew what to do to achieve what they wanted. It was just... hard. And they had to do their best to be happy.

Joey tried really hard to make it a happy workplace. He might have gotten a bit harsh sometimes but never let his guard of positivity down. Workers were fast to lose trust but slow to regain it. He was trying his damn best and hasn't realised he was pushing his best friend too hard.

He felt awful.

He had to do this, stuff needed to be done, but today? No, he couldn't.

Henry was crying. He had to let him go home, even if that meant he will spent time with his fiance instead of him. Or more like working for him.

But that would make him unhappy. Henry was unhappy for a longer time.

He sat back and lifted his chin up to look at the ceiling.

Most important person in his life was unhappy because of most important thing in his life.

Oh, dear.

Henry's spirit was definitely lifted up when Joey watched him exit the building. He felt an unpleasant feeling in his stomach when he noticed that – almost as if the workshop was some sort of prison. That just felt wrong. But he was glad for his friend. The animator needed rest anyway.

Anyway... what the hell was he doing? Drawing with a hurting hand? Did he really think Joey is some kind of monster that would make him-

No.

He realizes he clenched his fists. His fingers got released right away.

Well. Is he?

No. Calm down. Henry finds it hard to stand up for himself. He never complains! No wonder he just literally exploded from everything he kept inside! Joey never had any problems with giving him feedback or going on and on about what was going inside that idea-pumping head of his, but to be fair he didn't really have any serious issues himself.

(bullshit)

(liar)

The dark haired man shook his head.

They both felt the unpleasant breath of incoming deadline on their backs. Henry was probably too occupied with his mind today to, well, mind going home. But Joey was fully aware.

Oh, well! Who is supposed to make the impossible happen if not him?

He picked up the pen and then he picked up where Henry left off. He felt tired, but only physically (right?) which was something he surely could stand. Unfortunately he had to focus more on the business stuff but some time in the future he planned to hire an entire management department and join Henry in the art one. He could look for more animators first but...

His eyebrows frowned and he bit his bottom lip.

...he didn't want to. Later.

Why?

Oh, obviously because-

Because...

Bendy looked so off model, Joey just stared at the sketch in pure surprise.

Oh, right, he cheered himself up, after that time period some warm ups are necessary.

The amount of time he spent warming up to get the frame right was a bit disappointing, but he kept going.

He was so absorbed by the work, he didn't (want to think) hear the steps approaching him.

"Gee golly. Is that really you, sir?” the janitor's eyebrows instantly rose up as he reached the end of the hall.

Drew gave him an unfocused look and blinked a few times.

"What," he didn't even articulate the question.

"Um, uh, ya know, I'm just doin' the usual, haha,” Wally wasn't sure what to make out of his boss' tone, so his reply was kind of nervous, "Gotta clean up the place!”

The look on Franks face woke Joey up from that strange state of hyperfocusing.

"Oh!” without any reason to he stood up. Just a second after he realized, but didn't sit back, he approached the worker, stretching his back, "Can't you do this later, my boy?”

"It's already after hours, sir," the smile on Wally's face told Joey two things. First: get some rest, old man. Second: I better get overtime for this.

Oh, he heard that second one so often. Not today.

"Forget it. Go home, Wally.”

"Oh, no problemo, I can wait.”

"Wally.”

"Alright, alright," Franks reassured him to back out of his extra work plan by replying with the strongest accent he could pull off, which Joey couldn't help but find amusing. Such personality! Would make a great character trait.

"You can leave the mop here," as Joey continued Wally twisted his head to one side in curiosity. Kinda like a dog, "I will use it later.”

"Wow, mister Drew, you do Henry's job, now mine. When are ya goin’ to write a song?”

"Very funny, Franks.” Joey sent him a tired smile. "I mean – Wally. Quit the mister Drew, please.”

"You got it!” Joey half expected him to salute. Wally Franks might not be the sharpest tool in this shed, but he sure tries his best to be one and works both hard and happy. He would never regret hiring such a character. Good for the janitor, Joey never cared much about papers and qualifications. There were many things to hate this place for but also many things to appreciate. Maybe even love. Like this little comedy he knew he could expect from the boy always walking with his head in the clouds, "Good thing, I don't hafta go back to the closet! Phew! If I met Sammy down here, I wouldn't hear the end of it!”

"Keys?”

"Keys.”

Joey wasn't even slightly mad. That was just hilarious. Even though he was the one paying for a pair of new ones. Well, the studio was, but someone is responsible for it and is in its very name.

After Wally left, he kept working for a few more hours. He almost got the shot done when he felt a gentle touch on his shoulder.

He got up from the desk with a paper attached to his face. There were small spots of ink on his forehead and chin. He was really disoriented and looked at the person standing next to him with two cups of coffee with pure confusion.

Henry.

He was smiling but looked concerned.

"Damn me, I was afraid I will be too much behind so I got up earlier for work, but you..." he sounded genuinely touched, "Thanks.”

"You're welcome," Joey yawned and slowly got up, to which Henry responded by placing the cups on the desk and pushing him back to his place, "Wha-"

"You look like you're about to pass out,” despite his friend's tone, he could tell he wasn't really joking, "How long were you up?”

"Hell if I know," usually higher positioned shoulders now at a lower lever because of their owner's body being laid back in the chair shrugged, "What time is it?” he asked as he reached out for the cafeine.

"Eight.”

Joey took the cup to his hands and simply stared at the surface of what was inside of it. He smiled in an unsettling way.

"I have a meeting at half past nine.”

"Oh,” Henry gasped in that emotionless way of his but in the name of self-awareness added a more concerned: "Shit.”

"Yeah," a loud slorp could be heard.

"Is it important?”

"Yeah.”

"Are you gonna go there?”

"Yeah.”

"Do you want to?”

"Kinda.”

"Do you kind of want it, or-" Henry tried hard not to wheeze as Joey gave him an annoyed look, "want it, want it?”

There was a moment of silence.

"I don't.”

They both laughed hysterically.

Kinda.

✪

First year anniversary party managed to lift up everyone's moods a bit but not long after that event it faded away. They kept pushing but kept losing enthusiasm. It was even harder to stand that grin.

The one Bendy posters have.

The one Joey Drew has.

Said man entered the corridor to the left after coming through the entrance. He stood quietly and watched his only animator work.

He realized it's been some time since they had a normal conversation. He can't deny this feels wrong. He feels... awkward... out of place...

He hesitated to start speaking. It was Henry who sensed someone's presence and looked in his direction.

"Hi," he only slightly raised his eyebrows, "What do you want?”

"Oh? Is it forbidden to just come to see your pal now?” he tried hard to mask his stress and make the tone sound convincing. Henry's sad smile as a reply made him somewhat relieved.

"No. But I need to work on this if I want to get out of this place today," that used to be a joke.

Joey immediately run back to the previous room and returned with a chair.

"Move yo ass.”

"Come on, you don't have to-"

"It's been months since I used a pen for anything else than my signature or script writing. I. Want. To. Draw.” he really did, Henry was almost jealous of his friend's excitement towards drawing. It was only becoming less and less fun for the shorter man.

"Okay, then, here," he gave a folder to Joey and explained what needed to be done.

It was quite pleasant to have some company. Joey was working in the next room but they could shout things at each other. And they did.

Henry worked at a really fast paste. And very effectively on top of that. He didn't realise that himself but there has been quite some time since he heard an actual compliment about his work. He lacked motivation. Maybe that's why not long after Joey started, he went out of his hall and approached his friend's desk.

"Hey, I wanted to ask how you feel about those back-"

Joey has been scribbling circles.

Henry blinked.

This whole time.

"What the-"

"I can't get his stupid head. I'm so out of practice.”

"Are you serious?”

"I know I goof a lot, but not in the mood for it right now, Hen.”

"Ah," he was slightly taken aback by the nickname. It's been so long, "Maybe you want less Bendys and I'll give you some Borises instead? It's good to try different things.”

"Yeah, that does sound good”, Joey gave him a thankful smile.

Henry didn't dare to show him his backgrounds. He thought something but pushed it away.

No way it would demotivate Joey. Nothing was able to bring this man down. Right?

So they kept drawing.

Later, without anything to show this time, Henry came to him again to check how things were going.

Their little devil darling looked on model, just the way he should be.

When he glanced at the Boris Joey was sketching, he almost froze. He saw a mistake repeated on a few sketches already.

"You won't make me correct all the frames to give him a tail, will you?” he let out a nervous chuckle. Joey furrowed his brows as he studied what he made.

He gazed upon Henry who could see something shifting through his boss’/friend's face but couldn’t quite catch it.

"You're tired.”

"I'm tired.” Joey nodded slowly.

He muttered thanks for reminding him and went back to work. So did Henry. As the animator sat down on his own place, he wondered why did this little thing bother him so much.

Because? It's no big deal, right? Everyone makes mistakes.

After something around twenty minutes, Joey took careful steps while going to Henry's desk. He held some paper sheets and a pen. His face was covered by some undefined mask, so hard to guess what he felt at this moment.

Henry guesses he was... embarrassed? Afraid?

Why?

"Can you... show me how the details on Boris’ overalls look like?” his tone was so quiet, Henry got the impression it wasn’t even Joey speaking.

"Sure," he took out one of the concept arts he barely touched now since the designs of the characters were basically engraved on his memory. He smirked teasingly, "What kind of director doesn't know his own characters?”

That was supposed to be a joke.

Gritted teeth and pencil moustache pointed down told him someone didn't take it as one.

"You don't have to remind me about that," he hissed and pretty much threw all the stuff at the desk, "I'm done.”

"No, I didn't mean- Wait, what? What are you-"

"I'm done. I can't... do this anymore.”

"Um, hello? Are you listening to yourself?” Henry pulled out a nervous smile which was supposed to resemble his concern, "You just need-"

"Practice, yeah, no shit," Joey sighed heavily and crossed his arms, "But I don't have the goddamn time.”

Henry just blinked and stared at him. Joey finally realized what was coming out of his mouth.

"I... I'm sorry. I wanted to help you but-"

"No, it's fine. Don't worry ab-" Henry reached for his shoulder to lay a hand on it but Joey flinched back.

"I'm not worried. Of course it's fine. Now excuse me, I won't waste any more of our time-"

"Hey! No! It's... it's okay if it's not fine, we can talk about thi-"

"No need to. It's fine,” it was the first fake smile Henry remembered after finally quitting the studio.

"I don't believe that. Can you just... stop running away from talking about what's really bothering you?” he approached the tall man.

"I have no idea what you're talking about,” he turned away, planning to exit the room.

"It's okay to admit something is wrong!” Henry grabbed his arm.

Before he gets pushed with an unexpected force, he saw Joey in a completely new form. His friend's face was furious. Paper and pens fell from the desk on the ground. An ink well spilled out its content on a few pages by shattering on top of them. Henry hit the wooden structure with his back and the blue eyes watched the green ones in disbelief.

Joey's expression instantly changed. He looked at the other's face, not sure what to say. Seemed like he tried to state something but failed as his mouth opened and closed.

He exited the room in a hurry.

✪

Joey has been sitting in his office for quite a while now. Motionless. Staring at his desk. At an envelope laying on it to be precise.

He was away for a few days so he missed the biggest news going around the studio right now. On the way to this room he noticed some people gossiping and there was an unusual excited atmosphere.

Subconsciously, he knew what was inside of it. The thought just didn’t form inside of his head.

With a slightly shaking hand, he reached for the paper and cut it carefully with a letter opener.

He noticed the biggest word right away and lost his breath.

BEFORE THEY SAY

"I DO”

KINDLY JOIN US FOR THE

WEDDING

UNITING

LINDA & HENRY

After that there were written the date, the place and his own name but he paid no mind to those.

The invitation was put back down slowly, the fingers holding it twitching.

Tall, thin body was unusually still. Looked calm.

But wasn’t.

It’s over.

He stood up and a noise of something shattering could be heard. He felt a pain in his arm as he looked at it being stretched. He stared almost blindly at the wall and hardly noticed a big stain on it. Then his mind went back to focus. There was glass on the floor and on a chest of drawers which stood under the ink splatter. He remembered to breathe again, which he continued to do heavily, and then slowly approached the furniture to study what he’s done.

He appeared to just have thrown an inkwell.

Oh, what a mess.

Nothing like the one inside his head.

Joey pulled out the drawers. Various things ended up flying out of them. Documents, pens, stamps, keys, you name it. Falling wood made cracking sounds as it hit the ground.

He went around the room pulling his hair.

The man passed a wine rack which he pushed furiously. Alcohol spilled on the wood and the luxurious carpet covering it.

He stopped walking ending back again at the desk. With one swing of the long arm, he managed to push everything off it’s surface. There was something wet on his sleeve and he raised it up to his face with disgust, expecting to see ink.

But it was red.

And it hurt.

It must have been the letter opener.

He almost collapsed on his back, but the chair behind him broke the fall, so he ended up sliding down it. His legs were pointed at different directions, his body in general looked like an abandoned doll. The bleeding arm rose to the chest and was being hugged to it by the other one. It was now, when everything else went quiet, nothing was shattered or thrown, that he heard sounds which only a hurt animal could have made.

It slowly got through to him that he was sobbing uncontrollably.

His limbs slowly woke up from that weird apathetic state and along with head started coming together to one point – curled into a ball.

Hide.

Stop.

From what? Stop what?

What…?

He didn’t want to think.

He didn’t want anything.

Not anymore.

He…

He just can’t have it.

He can’t have him.

No matter what he does. Nothing really matters. He can’t succeed.

THIS ISN’T SUPPOSED TO BE LIKE THIS!

His whole body trembled.

This isn’t right, this isn’t fair, this can’t be like this, he has to… he… he just needs to…

He has always believed you can achieve anything if you try hard enough. If you believe. If you keep going. At some point that dream will come true.

He fell on his side and put a fist inside his mouth to silence his own scream.

LIES. LIES. LIES.

What was right is wrong. Nothing is the way it’s supposed to be.

He felt that… toxic… desire… to get what he wants.

But the problem was… he didn’t want something. He wanted someone.

Henry isn’t and can’t be your damn property, you stupid piece of garbage. How pathetic can you be?

Dreams are supposed to be your power…

He choked on his tears, but that didn’t stop him from laughing.

…but they can also be your downfall.

✪

This was not what he dreamt of. He run his hand through his brown hair with ending that movement on the neck to give it a small massage. It ached a bit, his back did as well. And his hand.

Henry sighed. He was so tired.

Why won’t Joey hire more animators? They should afford to do so, and even if it was risky, they would rather benefit from it in the future as there would be less dangers of not meeting the deadlines. He managed to do everything alone but at what cost…

A wrinkle appeared on his forehead.

Joey won’t even help him anymore. And his name is in the goddamn-

He released the breath he was holding.

Time passed and things only seemed to get worse.

He put his hands on the Bendy sketch he was working on. He grasped one of the fingers and studied it.

He designed the main character. Heck, two main characters.

He gently touched and twisted the golden ring.

Does he want to live in his shadow?

Does he live in it?

Should he quit? What would happen to them? What job would he look for?

He didn’t want to think about this.

They wanted to start a family. He couldn’t be absent in their children’s life.

He needed to think about this.

Blue eyes closed.

Should he quit…?

✪

There was an unpleasant silence in the office. Heavy atmosphere hanging in the air.

Old friends sat on opposing sides of Joey’s desk.

They couldn’t look each other in the eyes. No one wanted to start speaking.

Henry asked for talking about something. Something important. Privately.

Joey exhaled deeply and looked up at the other one’s face.

"What-"

"I quit.”

Dark haired man blinked. Corners of his mouth rose but the smile didn’t reach the green irises.

"Let’s take it slow from here, okay? Tell me what’s the problem.”

"What isn’t a problem, Joey?” Henry didn’t expect himself to raise his voice. At least not so early, "Short answer is: I’m not happy here.”

Drew folded his hands and put them on the countertop.

"Could you elaborate on that?” his voice didn’t show anything except for impatience.

The animator swallowed his saliva.

"I’m working alone and it’s just too much work for one person, it’s entirely consuming my life-"

"Well, it’s like this in this bus-"

"I’ve become a fucking workaholic, Joey.”

"I… I’m sorry to hear that…”

"Haven’t you noticed?”

"Noticed what? How am I supposed to know what’s going on inside your head? You never tell me anything, you just wait till it all bursts out in one moment, and look what it lead to now.”

"Oh, well I… thought you knew me a bit better and were aware of some changes. I’ve been lying to myself because I have an addiction. And everyone around me seemed to notice. Everyone but you.”

"I thought you liked drawing.”

"I love drawing.”

"What’s the matter then?”

"That I’m a goddamn wreck, maybe that’s what. I’m… sort of… miserable… because of it… If it wasn’t for Linda, I surely would drown the sorrows in alcohol. Almost added drinking to the list of my problems, but she-"

"Oh, thank God, Linda is here.”

Henry didn’t miss the sarcasm in Joey’s tone.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

"She’s convinced you to quit for her, hasn’t she?”

"What? No! Well, we did talk about it, but it’s not like… This is MY decision, I’m doing this for my own sake… Well ours too but…” he shook his head and continued more angrily, "Are you suggesting that she’s… she’s… I don’t know, sabotaging?”

Joey didn’t stop his shoulders from shrugging and Henry could feel his teeth grit.

"I’ll tell you what,” he stood up, "The only person sabotaging anything here is you…”

"Henry, please, sit down-"

"You manipulative asshole.”

His boss gave him a dead stare.

Silence came back for a plenty of seconds, even worse to handle than before.

"You took my designs. You always used pretty words and ideas to get around it but the truth is you stole it from me.”

Joey listened to the accusations without showing any emotions. His mouth only once twitched.

"I won’t let you steal anything else.”

As a confirmation of his words, he turned around and headed for the door. When he pressed the handle, a cold, empty tone reached his ears and sent a shiver down his spine.

"Don’t you dare leave.”

Henry ignored it and walked out of the room. He was aiming his steps at the exit.

He felt as if his head was burning.

This is all wrong. How did they end up like this. Why is it hap-

"WHY AREN’T YOU LISTENING TO ME?!”

Against his will, his body faced the man following him.

Green eyes emitted fury and Henry experienced an irrational fear.

Of course he was mad. This was a hard situation for both of them. But it had to be like this.

It shouldn’t have to.

"I’m leaving. You can’t change my mind.” he replied in apologetic tone, even though he knew he wasn’t the one owning the apologies.

"What the fuck did she put into your head?” Joey asked in a disappointed tone and raised his arms in confusion.

"Leave her out of this. She has nothing to do with-"

"Oh, yeah?! Well, everything was okay before she started putting her fucking nose in places it didn’t belong,” taller man approached the shorter one, who was backing out carefully.

"I just told you to not involve her,” Henry growled, "You don’t even realise you’re the problem, don’t you?”

"Ah, of course!” he shouted and hit his forehead with right hand, completely forgetting they were in the hall where anyone passing could witness this scene. Luckily for them no one was there to see it.

Or maybe unfortunately.

"I forgot that three is a crowd.”

"What…?”

Joey immediately stopped and went silent. He was standing right in front of Henry, who also was done moving. Both of them were panting.

Both angry like they’ve never been.

A realization hit Henry like a train. He opened his eyes wide.

He was wrong. Many years from that moment he understood what was actually… the case…

But for now…

"You’re fucking sick,” now he took a step forward, "Just how controlling can you get?”

"What is that now, huh? What else have I done?”, Joey muttered but his tone seemed to have lost some fury, the loss being replaced with… fear?

That came to Henry as nothing else but a conclusion. Guilty.

He grabbed his best friend by the collar.

"You want to pull me away from her,” he hissed and his voice wasn’t ever as dangerous as in that moment.

Joey didn’t reply but his expression revealed his bewilderment and that somehow made Henry’s blood boil with rage. He rapidly pushed him away, long legs almost tripping over each other.

"You’re fucked in the head.”

"Henry-"

"I can’t believe I let you waste so much of my time, my energy… my… my life…”

"Listen to me-"

"No,” he cut him off and pushed again along with letting out a furious cry: "What the hell were you thinking?!”

"It’s not like this!” Joey noticed Henry getting ready to push him once more and tried to somehow stop his hands.

"Then how, huh?!” he went straight past Joey’s weak arms and grabbed him again, "How is it?!”

"I was just… I-I…” now he was the one pushing, anger suddenly kicking in and increasing his strength, "I was doing what had to be done to achieve our dreams!”

"Our dreams?” then Joey was the one backing out, "Or just yours?”

"I… I thought those were the same,” voice coming out from under the pencil moustache cracked.

"Well… maybe they were…” the animator’s tone calms down a bit as they reached an intersection of corridors. Behind Joey’s back was a place under construction which was going to be a break room. It was kinda upsetting Henry won’t even get to experience it. Would be nice… but at his position he probably wouldn’t even have a chance, "But not anymore.”

He held Joey’s vest with only one hand. He was ready to let go but-

"THEY ARE! IT’S ALL BECAUSE OF THIS FUCKING SLUT!”

Something red covered Henry’s vision. He didn’t know what was happening until he heard a loud thud. He blinked.

There was a smell of blood. His hand hurt and was wet. Blood on his hand. But what was that-

Again. Thud.

His eyes followed the noise.

There was a small trace of red dots leading to the beginning of the stairs.

Thud.

His chest suddenly felt heavy.

If he had air in his lungs, he would scream his friend’s name.

But he didn’t.

There was only one sound.

Thud.

And then silence.

A few seconds have passed before Henry finally moved. To him it could have been as well years. His legs felt like they were made out of iron.

Joey never realized he fell down the stairs. He was unconscious before he even fully registered being punched in the face by the person he only ever cared about.

For some reason there was one thing he remembered from that accident. Very clearly.

A sign he saw while the world was upside down.

"WATCH YOUR STEP”

Henry’s eyes stung. Hot tears rolled down his cheek as he watched the body at the bottom of the stairs. He would have sworn to God, he didn’t see it breathing.

Someone was coming.

People.

They will know.

Everyone will know.

Henry whispered a voiceless "sorry”.

He left in a heartbeat.

✪

There’s not enough air. There’s not enough air. There’s not enough air. There’s not-

Henry.

There were flashes.

Joey woke up in cold sweat and wanted to sit but wasn’t able to and it hurt it hurt it hurt it hurt like hell.

There was light. Right above him.

And a face.

Henry?

It was a doctor.

The doctor told him many funny things.

Why was it funny?

Well, because it was a joke, of course! It just couldn’t be true! So it must have been a joke!

It! Was! So! Funny!

He was in a hospital. There were more people in the room, trying to calm him down.

They said he was having a hysteria attack.

How was that possible? It was not.

They’re joking!

They’re lying!

Isn’t joking just funny lying?

He didn’t feel his legs. He couldn’t use his arms properly.

They told him he had a spine injury. That he probably won’t be able to walk. Or at least not much, unless he’s really lucky. But they should focus on saving his arms.

They were so silly.

They said he won’t make it for too long. His body was so fragile right now, it was a matter of months until it shuts down completely.

So, so silly.

He asked for Henry.

Nobody told him anything except for that he had a concussion and shouldn’t have any visitors for a while.

Time passed. He barely noticed from all the drugs they gave him.

Then his head started to feel clearer.

He realized they weren’t lying.

He told them he didn’t remember what happened.

He was the one lying.

He was having visitors. Henry was not among them.

But there was the janitor.

The janitor…

Oh!

Franky!

Like a cute version of Frankenstein!

No, wait, it’s Wally!

Wally Franks. The janitor. A really important visitor.

Joey asked him for a favour.

✪

Wally looked around with confusion and scratched his head. He rang the bell again and held it for a longer while. Then he knocked and shouted out Henry’s name a few times.

Well, time to give up. He obviously wasn’t home. His car wasn’t even on the driveway.

Mister Drew just seemed… it just seemed really important to him. And he didn’t want to bring bad news to him, considering the situation his boss was in.

Speaking of the news, there was a stack of newspapers just laying on the pavement.

No one was there since a longer time.

The janitor didn’t need to count them to know the amount of days it took to deliver these was equal to the amount of days which passed since… the incident.

He even asked some people.

No one knew where Henry was. Same about Linda.

Something was telling Wally they were out of town.

Probably for good.

✪

He let out an unhealthy chuckle after he was done writing the letter.

Why does he keep doing it? No one even reads those. And never will.

Without knowing Henry’s current address, he just kept sending mail to his old one. No one lived in it anymore because it wasn’t for sale and it couldn’t be even considered a property belonging to the town, because they’ve got nothing on him.

That’s because Joey never made any statements about what happened. He faked a memory loss. Some people speculated about him remembering what happened, some tried talking to him about it, pointing out how his disappearance happened at the same time his accident did.

But he didn’t tell anyone.

Police would have to start looking for him. He could ruin his life.

And ruin what was left of his own life. But that would also take away his only achievement.

The studio. The characters they argued about amongst other things.

If he took out Henry’s trash, his old friend would probably return the favour.

He couldn’t move his legs at first but after some rehabilitation he managed to use crutches from time to time. On rare occasions he stood with a cane but didn’t really move with it.

His arms were really weak, but got stronger after he started using the wheelchair. Only the dominant left one was really usable though.

✪

The demon touches his glove with the uncovered right hand. His whole body is cold but this part seems almost comfortable.

✪

He sometimes was coming to the art department to watch the animators work. He has hired many after-

He never really paid attention to them though. The only desk he really looked at was the empty one outside the area they were working in.

Despite everything, he couldn’t bring himself to get rid of it.

✪

Old man pants heavily as he escapes inky black stains whirling all around him. He reaches a corridor without a proper floor, only wooden boards put together in hurry to make a provisional bridge.

He can hear the Ink Demon closing in.

Henry takes his steps carefully. Falling would probably cause him to break his spine in half.

He thinks of the vertebrae sticking out of the deformed Bendy’s back.

He notices a sign at the end of the hallway. It’s upside down.

"WATCH YOUR STEP”

#bendy and the ink machine #batim fanfiction #joey drew #henry batim #henry x joey (one sided)#wally franks #halfart #halfpost #violence #injury #drinking #ask to tag

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