#and they put a lot of effort into remaking it. wow

[thisisapaige]

Paper Mario: The Thousand Year Door is just as fun as it was....... t— twe— TWENTY?? years ago

[moonstrider9904]

Here is a library of my gifs for you to navigate. If you like any of these posts, please consider reblogging to support me! I put a lot of love and effort into all of these, and I’d really appreciate the reblog. 🌙✨ Please do not repost any of these gifs without my permission!

Also please mind that I made some of these a long time ago in a galaxy far far away when I hadn't mastered the art of giffing so they aren't my best work, but I did want to include them ❤ However, the ones for TBB Season 3 and any remakes are my best work.

The Bad Batch Season 1

Soft!Crosshair meeting Omega

Hunter gives me Hozier vibes sometimes

Crosshair gets Wreck'd and Lula'd

Crosshair in the battle simulation

Imperial Crosshair

Tech Tuesday

Crosshair for May the 4th

Crosshair's different helmets

Wow I was in denial about Crosshair's chip lol

More Imperial Crosshair

Crosshair in Reunion

Crosshair in Return to Kamino

Crosshair in Aftermath

Imperial Crosshair (remake)

Comfort Crosshair gifs

Crosshair - After Dark by Mr. Kitty

Tech - Five by Sleeping At Last

Tech

A set of Crosshair gifs I made for my birthday

Tech's more deviant than defective

Crosshair no

Season 1 Crosshair (remake)

Crosshair on Ryloth (remake)

The Bad Batch Season 2

Tech in Faster

Crosshair across season 2

Crosshair - epiphany by Taylor Swift

The Bad Batch Season 3

Crosshair and Omega - Safe and Sound by Taylor Swift

Batcher with her dads

Crosshair in The Return

Crosshair in Point of No Return

"How Touching"

Crosshair's sparkling personality

I can fix Crosshair, no really, I can

Crosshair in Aftermath + Crosshair in The Cavalry Has Arrived

Crosshair, Omega, and Hunter hug

The Bad Batch - Eye of the Universe by McKane Davis

Hunter in Aftermath + Hunter in The Cavalry Has Arrived

Hunter and Omega in The Cavalry Has Arrived

Crosshair - Every Step and Between by McKane Davis

Hunter and Omega in Aftermath and The Cavalry Has Arrived

The Clone Wars

The Clones - Goodnight, Saigon by Billy Joel

Wolffe, my beloved

Wrecker vs. The Decimator

Star Wars Rebels

Ezra says goodbye to Kanan

The Book of Boba Fett

Jumpy Grogu

Kenobi

Space Jesus

Leia's Skywalker genes run rampant

The Legend of Vox Machina

Percy de Rolo

Percival

Lord Percival Fredrickstein Von Mussel Klossowski III

Bad News

Percy de Blorbo

The long lost De Rolo

Percy in A Silver Tongue

The duality of Percy

Percy's righteous anger

A set of Percy gifs I made for my birthday

You can also find these under the tag #moon's gifsets.

[loz-furbies]

Playing through the old loz games really makes you appreciate all the effort other fans have put in helpful and detailed guides, which have been essential for me getting through any of the late game dungeons. There's just something very charming about people putting a lot of work into creating a well put together guide for free just to help other players.

Meanwhile my experience with the LA remake was completely different by comparison; I missed the chance to get the ballad of the windfish song from Marin and had to look up where she moves after she disappears from Animal Village. And the first results for "link's awakening marin location after animal village" are useless seo garbage, like this:

"Legend of Zelda: Link’s Awakening - Where is Marin After Animal Village As players progress through Link's Awakening, Marin will run into trouble after Animal Village and needs to be rescued. Here's where to find Marin"

Okay, that's what I came for.

*unrelated picture of Link and Marin*

Not helpful

"Marin is quite a helpful character in The Legend of Zelda: Link’s Awakening. After rescuing Link in the game's introductory sequence, she'll also save the day later on when she helps awaken a sleeping walrus for Link. As players progress beyond this point, Marin will eventually find herself in need of a little rescuing of her own. Unfortunately, it looks like many have found Marin hard to find at this point, so here's how to find Marin after the Animal Village in Link's Awakening."

Anyone looking for this advice is halfway through the game and already knows who Marin is, and have trouble finding her, this is just useless padding.

*ad*

[a paragraph of more useless padding on Marin]

*link to an unrelated article on the same site*

"By this point of the game, Marin can be found in some distress on a rotting bridge in Tal Tal Heights, the same region where gamers will have rescued Bow Wow after the first dungeon. Once Link has reached the bridges, Marin can be seen in need of help on one of the rotting bridges. To rescue her, use the HookShot and you'll be able to repay Marin for helping you get beyond the walrus (and, you know, just being a good person in general)."

Halfway through the article we've finally reached the point! I'm not sure how to get to this place so I keep reading for more info.

*unrelated pic of Marin*

Not helpful, how about a map with the location marked?

"For those hoping to keep track of Marin's whereabouts throughout the game, she [a paragraph on her locations leading up to the bridge]"

Already cleared that part of the game, not helpful.

[even more useless padding about Marin]

*link to an unrelated article on the same site*

And that's it for the article! I visit other sites which have equally unhelpful info, unrelated pictures, links to even less related articles and a lot of seo garbage. Regardless I finally manage to get to the bridge, and she isn't even there! Because despite wasting hundreds of words on repeating over and over how Marin is a nice girl who moves to different locations, these stupid articles couldn't bother to spare a few to tell that she disappears from the game after you finish dungeon 5 and you have to clear dungeon 7 for her to reappear again. Information which comes from a gamefaqs user, condensed into one neat paragraph which gets to the point immediately. Because of course it does, it's just best to rely on other players who are actually motivated by a desire to help others.

[robotpussy]

hi its anon who asked abt how princess nokia. finding out that she lied only after a lot of digging... wow that's so fucked up & its rlly vile that someone will remake their whole appearance & heritage to benefit from being a race they actually are not. the fact that she put all of this effort & time & covered it up so well too is so horrible.

its rlly sinister how princess nokia did this because she knew that many people outside of the US and Latinamerica would not be able to tell she is lying about her heritage. this is another form of profiting off of blackness, by straight up lying about being black if you can actually get away with it. because its not like ppl said she was black... SHE said she is afro indigenous and held on to it for years!!!!! i also feel she did this so she wouldn't get any scrutiny for adopting black aesthetics if she claims she is black......

[sapphire-weapon]

I think in general people expect too much from the movies. They aren't supposed to be box office sell outs that make it to the Oscars. In short, "hey, of you're a fan, here's some extra story to play around with" is the goal in my eyes and mostly always has been. I enjoyed DI because I went in expecting a trash fire. The fact thought went into the villain and each main character got their small moment was enough to make it really good. That's it, that's my review, it's fun to watch and that makes it my favourite CGI work.

Even the Rotten Tomatoes reviews for CGI works are a total mess (not that I treat RT as a quality bible, but my point still stands). I mean ffs, Degeneration rates higher than both Vendetta and ID. That's absurd. Even Damnation cane out at 100%. I mean... Damnation's fine but it isn't that good, lmao! If I wasn't a fan of the games, it would've been turned off in five minutes.

In short, RE has never been a meticulously written masterpiece. It's a horror game (... mostly) that often depends on cheesy outdated tropes to move the story along, that's just how the franchise is for the most part. Yes, it can be argued that they're now slowly trying to redo that aspect, but the OG timeline... isn't good. It's enjoyable and fun to analyse and make fun of, but it isn't GOOD. I think recognising that and not expecting a genre changing, award winning writing is a necessary part of allowing oneself to enjoy it.

I like Claire and Jill, I also have to accept that they don't have as much effort put into them as their male co-characters (?). I like Ashley and Ada, I have to accept that they depend on a LOT of really sexist stereotypes. I like Chris and Leon, I have to accept that both (OG at least) are a 90's male-power-fantasy cringefest. Leons clothing choices in Vendetta and Damnation are massive icks by themselves (lol).

DUDE LEON'S DAMNATION OUTFIT LMAO

damnation was the first time i looked at leon and was like "dude you really need a girlfriend, i can't even trust you to dress yourself anymore"

like

every part of it is bad

EVERY SINGLE PART OF IT

THERE'S NOT A SINGLE PART THAT'S EVEN SLIGHTLY OK

his DI look is pretty bad, too. he literally looks like he just rolled out of bed and didn't bother to change his shirt and threw on a pair of jeans

like can we PLEASE get this man a girlfriend he clearly can't take care of himself

sorry i know that wasn't the point of the ask but

LMAO

i think that people expect too much from the OG timeline in general. if you come into the series from remake, i have no idea how the fuck you start digging through OG and don't immediately go "wow fuck this canon i'll just wait for the next new one"

especially if you're a leon fan, like

OG leon and Remake leon are so different

like at their core they're not, but their outward personalities super are

and OG leon is kind of an obnoxious fuckboy

[sohnric]

i am finally on my laptop so i can reblog this but maya istg i teared up when i was reading this reblog for the first time i-

writing this was loads of fun and i loved the concept and all and man every time i sent an ask on the movies i was SCARED that i would accidentally send it off anon DFAKL but it was so fun to incorporate them hihi i wanted the fic to be a lil more personal :,))

AHAHA see this is my s*nwoo anti agenda pulling through in the first half of the fic. i hate that man so much. my inner monologue for real. I THINK HIM MAKING YOU DO THE WORK IS THE THING THAT WOULD TIP ME OFF SO MUCH IF I WAS IN YN'S PLACE LIKE I WOULD BE FULL OF ANGER AFJKD. also im petty like that and i WOULD remake the poster as well but hey. yn,, you do you bestie

sunwoo being a dumbass middle schooler not knowing how to make the person he likes notice him so he pokes jokes and pranks but doesnt realise its working against him <//3 the scene where he plays national treasure was a wake up call to him like wow. yn is being nice. i am...doing something right...? DFJAKDL also i need sunwoo every time a rude customers comes to my summer job fr.

sunwoo being sad is peak wet cat of him i felt bad for him and i wrote him to be like that...

sunwoo is a lazy mfer thats like the whole thing with him in this fic. making yn do all the work bc his lazy ass wont do it. i hate him so bad

THAT MAKE OUT SCENE...ITS ALWAYS IN MY HEAD. ALWAYS ON MY MIND. sunwoo just wanted to hug and kiss their cheek but when he got the green light from yn he went batshit crazy like HE'S BEEN PINING FOR WEEKS :// POOR BOY COULDNT CONTAIN HIMSELF :(( i am a sucker for intimacy and writing this scene (as i've already told you) made me feel like i made out w him for real my brain wouldnt work for a few minutes,,,, i am glad it made u feel the same bc whooosh

THE JACKET HUG IM SLAMMING MY FIST ON THE TABLE like. i made the second half of the fic the sweetest thing ever and why. for what. why did i do this to myslef i am DELUSIONAL for kim sunwoo this needs to STOPPP.

let me keep my writing style >:( you keep yours and finish those fics before dec 31st or im unfriending you.

I SPENT THE MOST TIME ON FINDING E2L MOVIES THAT WOULD FIT THE VIBE OF THE SCENE TO USE THEM AS CHAPTER TITLES U DONT UNDERSTAND THE AMOUNT OF EFFORT I PUT INTO THIS DJADKLAF also "you know i don't listen to music" DFKJ STFU i am glad u enjoyed my music despite not being a music enjoyer.... also you liking gemini.....youre so me. sexy of u

MAYA I- okay i say yes. dont drink tho i wont be the reason for ur lose of innocence.

(i am so happy you liked this fic. your words mean a lot,, i love you so bad maya xx)

plot twist – k. sunwoo

pairing: kim sunwoo x gn! reader

genre: coworkers au, enemies to lovers au. fluff, a poor attempt at comedy. movie theatre! worker sunwoo and reader. bitch boy sunwoo. the reader has anger issues. owner's son! sunwoo being annoying about everything. winter themes, sunwoo is a little kid about stuff but mostly the snow.

wc: 21k

warnings: swearing, a heated make out session. y/n's inner monologue is just my own feelings about this man im sorry. i watched too much of the office when writing this can you tell. also i made sunwoo's sister underage for plot reasons deal with it.

working with kim sunwoo has so far been the worst experience of your whole entire life. just his existence alone is enough to make your day completely miserable– though, one would think that working with movies on the daily would prepare you for the biggest plot twist of your life.

a/n: this took me SO LONG to write woah. i have a humble playlist for this fic if any of yall wanna listen to it while you read <3 a huge thank you goes to my best friend @csenke for being my biggest motivator and hype man when it came to this fic. thank u for being my first ever beta reader hihi i couldn't have done this without you i am forever grateful ily. also im tagging @heemingyu because whe told me to

ho ho ho! this fic is a part of the secret santa event by @deoboyznet ! @kimsohn maya, i was your secret santa this year, i hope you enjoy the fic i prepared for you

TONIGHT'S PREMIERE – UGLY TRUTH (2009)

If anyone ever asked you about your job in the movie theater, you wouldn’t really know what to say. 

You see, what may had seemed like your dream job when you were little, acquiring the fairytale vision after going to the cinema for the first time to see the Horton movie when you were just 7, quickly turned into reality one ordinary day during your junior year of university. And it wasn’t even that hard; you just dropped off your CV at the movie theater on the corner of the town's square when you saw the sign that said ‘looking for part-timers’ in a messy, giant handwriting on the glass door– and soon enough, you found yourself in the depths of the vintage-looking cinema, wearing the red uniform the owner gave you, selling movie tickets to teenagers and taking out the trash. It’s hard to enjoy the job when you’re on bathroom cleaning duty, though, and the fact that this is what you once imagined to be the most exciting job in the whole entire world turns twice as boring when you realize just how mundane it really is. 

Still, you can’t bring yourself to quit, well, because you need the money.

Do you hate working in the cinema? No. Not really. Sure, it’s kind of boring– especially on the nights when you’re selling tickets at the front and nobody comes in for hours– but it’s not that difficult. It’s not physically or mentally demanding, so you’d say that you’re still on the better end when it comes to work environment. Your boss isn’t a dick and you get paid on time– so really, if anyone asked you if you hated it, your answer would be no. 

Until one fateful day, of course. 

You’re met with a person that’s going to efficiently change this opinion around in one swift bat of their eyelashes and a drag of their hand through their messy hair.

“So… you’re the new part-timer?” a tall boy asks you one day when you arrive at work. You’re already wearing your uniform when you come through the front door– since you don’t really feel like changing in the toilets that are not staff-exclusive here– and frankly, his voice startles you on your way in.

“Yeah,” you nod, furrowing your brows at the stranger. “And you are…?”

“Sunwoo,” the boy says, matter-of-factly, as if you’re supposed to know who exactly he is now that he’s introduced himself to you. The look on your face may show that you’re still clueless, and see, that’s something that must have played with the boy’s ego. “Kim Sunwoo,” he snickers, “the owner’s son..?”

Blinking a few times, trying to remember if Mr Kim’s ever told you about having a son– he hasn’t– you gasp like a fish on the dry, nodding. “Oh… Hello..?” you mumble, not really knowing what to do with the information.

“Hi,” he says, face stone cold and motionless. Something’s wrong, but you can’t quite put your finger on it…. 

Well, you’ll have to deal with that later. “My shift starts in 5 minutes, so I gotta find Mr- your dad, and ask him what’s on my to-do list today, but it was nice meeting you,” you try to force out a polite (maybe even warm) smile before you turn on your heel and march towards the staff room, where Mr Kim usually resigns unless he is helping you out with something at the front. See, on not busy days, working at the cinema requires only one person. On Fridays, though, it can get tough. That’s when the owner makes the popcorn while you both sell and scan the tickets at the same time– sometimes you wonder why he doesn’t hire another person to help out with the job.

“Wait– newbie–”

The nickname startles you, again, as you turn around and squint at him. You have a name– and although he has no way of knowing it (other than his father telling him, but seeming that you didn’t even know about his son, Mr Kim isn’t big on sharing information)– but still, you’d love to be called by it. “It’s Y/N, actually.”

“Oh, right…” he hums, “well, Y/N, dad’s not here tonight, so… I’m… kind of in charge,” he says, nodding as he gets the words out, trying to prove his point, “he had other things to take care of, so he sent me down instead,” he explains, watching as your face morphs into one of quick understatement.

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” he nods, sucking on his teeth.

Thick silence overtakes the atmosphere. You feel awkward and out of place.

“So…?” you hum, waiting for him to tell you what to do. 

Because a guy your age ordering you around at work is already embarrassing enough for a university student just trying to pay for their groceries. You’re not gonna ask for the orders yourself. You still have some dignity.

“So… I could take the ticket booth and you can clean the screening room, since there are no movies on tonight?” he suggests, rocking on his heels. The boy seems a bit shaken with the new sense of responsibility, but you figure that even his undoubtful awkwardness still doesn't put you above his position.

You mentally sigh. Cleaning is your least favorite part of the job. 

Still, you’re not gonna talk back to your boss’ son. You’d like to keep your job for a while longer. At least until you find something better.

“Alright,” you nod, turning on your heels once more and preparing to disappear into the depths of the cinema.

His voice stops you again, though, frustration flowing through your veins. “Don’t forget to mop the floors! Oh, and the bathroom could use a clean as well.”

“Alright,” you nod again, your back facing him.

“Also, you need to get the gum off the chairs, I know it’s kind of disgusting, but there’s a-”

“I know how to do my job, thank you,” you turn, smiling ironically over your shoulder.

You don’t know what it is about the man that makes you so, so incredibly irritated. Maybe it’s the fact that every bit of information coming out of his mouth sounds like he’s mansplaining everything to you. Maybe it’s the fact that you feel humiliated to be told what to do by a man that’s your age. Or maybe, it’s just the sheer fact that you hate cleaning– the one thing he just told you to do.

Still, you go and get the vacuum. You go and mop the floors, you go and take the gum off the chairs and scrape it into a bucket you keep in the pantry in the back. You go and clean the bathroom, even though it’s 10 minutes until the end of your shift (you only work 4 hours on Wednesdays) and you spent almost your whole day cleaning the whole screening room by yourself (the screening room that’s giant and Mr Kim helps you with on most days). You go and wipe the mirror in the bathroom, as well as the windows in the hall. 

You say that your work in the cinema is not physically demanding, but by the time you’re out, your back hurts and your knees are all bruised up from getting on the ground so often.

What really sets you off, though, is the sight of the owner’s son sitting in the booth, both legs up on the table and chewing on something, his phone in his hands as he watches, what you presume from the language resonating from the speaker, a silly anime. At least someone had fun during their shift, you think as you leave without saying goodbye to him, slamming the door behind you with a loud bang on your way out.

Quite frankly, you didn’t know what set you off so bad this time. Maybe you just had a bad day. Maybe it could've been fixed with your next shared shift with the guy– you never know.

Little did you know that it was only going to get worse from now on, though.

TONIGHT'S PREMIERE – PALM SPRINGS (2020)

If you knew your boss’s son would play the role of your supervisor from time to time, you probably wouldn't have taken the job when it was offered to you. 

Why?

The reason is quite simple– while you go to work to make money, Kim Sunwoo goes to work to make your whole life a living hell. Ranging from always giving you the more difficult task of the day to making unfunny jokes about your performance (he once asked if you ran a marathon after you mopped the whole hall, his grinning figure staring at you from inside of the ticket booth), you’re starting to think that Kim Sunwoo is mentally stuck with the brain of an 11-year old boy. 

More so with his recent endeavors. You don’t really know what he’s trying to achieve with all of this, but you’re starting to despise going to work even when you know he’s not on the schedule– somehow, you’re afraid his silly pranks and jokes will follow you and surprise you even when he’s not present. Is this his way of asserting dominance? You really don’t know.

It all starts one day before a movie premiere when Sunwoo walks up to you and introduces you to a new concession item to sell in the snack booth. While you don’t really know why one would even think of new combinations to sell at a cinema, since everyone’s just gonna get popcorn or nachos, you don’t really question the idea much further– Sunwoo’s father owns this place, so he must know the best marketing strategies for his business. The reality only downs on you when you’re forced to promote the “Ultimate movie mix” to every customer– which wouldn’t even be that strange, if the mix didn’t include the weird combination of pickles and candy. 

Running on two all nighters and half an energy drink, you didn’t realize the snack stand doesn’t even hold pickles. You were notified the day after by your boss, though, and that wasn’t your best experience.

The terror follows when Sunwoo’s father decides to run a Star Wars marathon one weekend. The flood of customers wouldn’t be as hard to manage when you run the snack stand, but it does get more difficult when your coworker running around with a lightsaber knocks over all the buckets of freshly-made popcorn you just put on the counter for the customers to take. 

He doesn’t even say sorry. Or help clean the spilled popcorn up from the floor. Or help you make a new batch. 

He just laughs.

Sunwoo just loves to laugh at you. Like that one time he made you wear a giant popcorn costume and stand in front of the cinema for the entirety of your 4 hour shift on Wednesday to promote the new movie airing on Friday. Hardly anyone took the fliers you were desperately trying to force into their hands and when you came back, you saw Sunwoo pointing his camera at you from the big glass window. 

The next shift, his dad asked you how Sunwoo did when promoting the movie. You didn’t have the heart to tell him he forced you to do the dirty business instead.

Another time, Sunwoo informs you via text in the middle of your shift that you should clean the bathrooms. The fact itself already makes you furious, but you follow the order nonetheless– because, well, what else can you do? You’re used to cleaning the toilets, since it’s a part of your job. It’s just the fact that a guy your age told you to that’s making you rethink all your career decisions.

The trip to the bathrooms quickly turns traumatizing when you step inside of the tiled room and have the door behind you close with a loud bang, followed by the light switching off. Screeching, you jump and try to escape the room with fear making your heart run faster than Usain Bolt, however, you find the door seemingly locked– the sound of Sunwoo’s snarky laugh coming from the other side making you recognise what just happened and how he’s pulling another one of his childish pranks on you again.

When the door finally opens, you throw the toilet brush into his chest and scream out a “I’m going to fucking quit if I see your face one more time!”. You’re over all formalities.

That doesn’t mean you’re not scared every time you enter a room in the cinema when you work with Sunwoo, though. Your reaction was strengthened very abruptly, you see.

Sitting in the ticket booth, door ajar to monitor your surroundings, you plop your head on your hand and glare at Sunwoo, chewing on your gum. If anyone saw you right now, they’d think you were trying to kill him with your stare, but the opposite would actually be the truth tonight– you were quite enjoying the sight of him wiping the sweat off his forehead and scowling at the neverending flow of customers.

The beauty of having ticket booth duty on premiere night is that everyone bought the tickets beforehand already, meaning that it wasn’t usually busy. Scanning the tickets and running the snack booth were the more difficult parts of the shift, and since Mr Kim decided to show up to work today, Sunwoo was graced with the snack booth duty– something that warmed you up from the inside and made you want to kiss your boss’s feet in gratefulness. 

There’s just something about seeing Kim Sunwoo in misery that makes your stomach turn and do cartwheels. You’re in love with his pathetic, tired face.

His eyes meet yours when he takes a moment to breathe– the look behind them is pleading, almost embarrassingly hopeless as he internally wishes he was in your place. You think this serves him right for the weeks of torture, and when he becomes you to come over with a motion of his hand, you just shrug at him and bat your eyelashes in faked innocence. 

It’s not your fault he’s on duty tonight. What does he want with you?

His lips mouth “Come here,” which makes you battle a satisfied smile. Poor Kim Sunwoo is helpless in his task. The rush just won’t stop and he’s asked of more than he can handle. You kind of feel sadistic when you truly think about your sentiments, but you think you’re only valid for feeding on his misery.

“Help!” he mouths again, and now you truly can’t battle the laughter anymore. His hair is tousled and sticking to his forehead. His uniform is dirty. The tie around his neck is loose. The sight makes you utterly satisfied.

As he mouths “Please,” accompanied by clasped hands and a pleading look that would work on most women, you finally decide to stand up from the uncomfortable chair in the ticket booth and shake your head in disbelief. You can’t even count how many times Sunwoo left you alone in the rush before a premiere, but you can’t really risk his father finding out you didn’t come to rescue his beloved son, since however you might hate this job, you still can’t lose it in your current living conditions.

Sighing and closing the door to the ticket booth after you, your legs take you to the snack stand. Eyes of enthusiastic customers looking almost high on coca cola and the smell of salted popcorn are on you when you finally reach Sunwoo’s side. 

“So I’m supposed to help you with your work whenever you ask, but when I’m left cleaning the whole theater completely alone, you can sit around and play on your phone?” you jab, annoyed with the turn of events. You find a spare apron and tie it around your waist, not really wanting to dirty your uniform as you pour caramel into some buckets of popcorn, hearing your companion chuckle next to you.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Okay, so I’ll be back in the ticket booth after serving this customer-”

“My dad’s watching.”

“This is blackmailing,” you snap back, smiling ironically at your coworker.

Sunwoo grins at you when he hands two cokes to the teenage girls behind the counter, shrugging to himself. “Not my problem.”

You learned long ago that fighting with Kim Sunwoo is a battle you can never win. Logically, you know you’re always right, but the boy always thinks he should have the last word in everything, which makes ending an argument with him pretty much impossible. That’s why you stopped trying to prove your truth. In your heart, you know how it is, and no amount of snarky remarks from the feisty boy will change your opinion.

You two work alongside each other in silence for some time. You’d even say it’s efficient– you make the popcorn and he makes the nachos, both of you taking turns behind the coca cola machine, and after a few minutes in his proximity when he’s not being the butt of the Earth, your brain starts to question why you two can’t operate like this on a daily basis.

Oh, how foolish of you.

You’re quickly brought back to reality when you walk over with the grande size bucket of popcorn towards the counter, meeting halfway with Kim Sunwoo’s chest.

It takes everything in you not to scream, but the restraint is deleted as soon as you feel something cold dripping down the front of your uniform, your white button-up suddenly sticking towards your chest in a big, dark-brown pool around your waist area. One sharp look into his eyes is everything it takes you two to come to a mutual understanding of what your next action is gonna be– Sunwoo quickly puts the now empty cup of coca cola onto the counter and puts a hand towards his head in self-disappointment.

“Kim Sunwoo, are you fucking incompetent?!” you scream out, the sensation of your cold shirt sticking to your already sweaty skin making you want to crawl out of yourself and scratch your coworker’s eyes out with the claws of the demon he wakes up in you.

“Look, you don’t have to-”

“I just washed this yesterday, there’s a line of people waiting for their snacks up to the fucking front door, you just ruined the popcorn I made so now I have to redo it, and you just decide to spill this onto me?!” you continue with your rampage, not really caring about the eyes of everyone on you, just letting out all your built-up frustration that creeps inside of you every time you see his face.

“As if I did this on purpose…” he grunts as he turns around in his place and reaches for napkins, not really putting much thought into his actions as he presses the material into the damp place sticking to your skin. 

The image startles you– Kim Sunwoo almost in physical contact with you, a paper napkin soaking up some of the coca cola flooding the surface of your skin– and as you watch his slender palms run over your front, your eyes falling to the fluffy hair at the crown of his head, you feel heat rushing to your insides, making you jump away from him.

“Sorry-” he mumbles out as you forcefully pry the napkin out of his hand, gritting your teeth.

“I’m starting to think you’re making me do everything just because you’re useless,” you spit at him.

Rolling his eyes, Sunwoo pokes his cheek with the tip of his tongue. “It was an accident.”

“Don’t care,” you grunt, walking away from the booth, “I’m going to change in the back, you better not burn the place down with the popcorn machine before I’m back,” you comment, sending him a sharp glare over your shoulder.

All that accompanies you to the staff room is Sunwoo’s loud sigh and a sugary-sweet tone he offers to one of the customers as he throws the ruined popcorn into the trash. “I’ll be right with you, miss!” 

If anyone asked you if you hated your job now, you think you’d say yes.

Who are you kidding?

You’d definitely say yes.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – THE HATING GAME (2021)

You were quite pleased on your way to work today. It’s Wednesday, which usually means it’s not as busy. The weather is cloudy– good enough to not make you gloomy, but not quite sunny enough to make you wish you were outside instead of being stuck in the cinema the whole afternoon– and you packed a home-made sandwich with you to eat on your lunch break. Which is whenever, since you’re on ticket booth duty today– another great news. 

The best thing about today, though? Kim Sunwoo isn’t working today. 

That alone is good enough to make your whole entire day better. The sun shines brighter, your breathing is lighter, the air is clearer and the birds chirp louder when you know you don’t have to interact with the hellspawn that day. It’s like his absence alone is enough to heal all your wounds and delete all your worries– who cares about the fact that you’re barely getting through your Biology class when you know you won’t have to stare at Sunwoo’s face as you contemplate dropping out of university during your shift? 

Maybe you should thank him, in a way.

And with all of this knowledge, a smile plastered on your face as you’re prepared to sit through your 5-hour shift in silence with an occasional swipe through your social media and a well deserved chicken-mayo sandwich towards the end of your shift, it’s quite natural for your smile to freeze and your spirit fall the moment you see the mop of dark brown hair walk through the doors of the cinema. 

“What the fuck is he doing here?” you mourn as he walks by, only realizing you said the sentence out loud when the boy looks at you with a scowled face, a scoff escaping his throat.

“Didn’t know we were speaking to each other in third person now,” he says as he stops in his tracks and plops his head into the door to your booth, infesting your calm abode with his presence.

Deep breaths. In and out, Y/N. In and out… 

“Hello to you too, Y/N,” he smiles, irony dripping off his tongue, “having a good day so far?”

“It was better without you here, thank you,” you snap back, rolling your eyes at him when his eyes flash with something akin to a victory– it seems you both take joy in making the other one absolutely miserable with your presence.

“Sweet,” he nods on his way out, grinning to himself. “Well, I won’t be long, so don’t let your mood drop too much.”

With that, he’s out of the ticket booth. All that’s left behind him is the smell of his cologne– the tingle of lemon and bergamot filling your nostrils in a way that makes the fine hair at the back of your neck stand up all alert– and silence. It makes you wonder about his whereabouts– you can never know… what if he’s setting up a trap for you somewhere? You wouldn’t be half surprised. You make a mental note to yourself to be twice as cautious when going to the bathroom next time. Just to make sure.

Before you’re able to think of any possible situations that Sunwoo could get himself caught in (while completely ignoring the fact that his father is somewhere in his office in the back– for all you know, he might just need to talk to your boss, like a son does sometimes), the woodworm of your thoughts appears in your view again, two rolled-up tubes under his shoulder as he walks over to the front door.

“Wait! What are those?” you ask, eyes zeroing on the very clear posters in his grip. The shiny white back of the big posters you have to sometimes put up in the front of the cinema are unmistakable to anything else.

“Posters,” Sunwoo replies, calling over his shoulder, already halfway out of the building. 

“I know what those are–”

“Then why are you asking?” he huffs, shaking his head in disbelief as he takes a few steps towards the ticket booth, eyes meeting yours. His figure fills the door frame as he towers over you, still sitting on the chair. His eyes have a different kind of twinkle in them– you think, no, you know it’s mischief– making the blood in your veins boil at deadly temperatures.

“Because– well,” you huff, already frustrated, “we’re not allowed to take these,” you say, pointing to the two posters under his shoulder like a kid in the candy store. You try to ignore just how embarrassing you must look right in this moment.

“Oh,” he pouts, taking the posters from below his shoulder, unraveling one of them and resting the other one against the doorframe, “so you’re telling me… I can’t take those two amazingly big, shiny, cool posters of the latest Spiderman movie home for me and my friend Juyeon?” 

You’re only half-aware of the fact that he’s teasing you right now, sighing at his innocent face. “No, Sunwoo. You can’t.”

“Hm,” he hums, looking at the poster from top to the bottom, seemingly sad about the news, “that’s terrible. Says who?”

“Your… your father, Sunwoo. He told me when I asked him the other day if I could take–”

“You wanted to take posters home from the cinema?” he gasps, looking at you with big eyes. He looks stupid. So, terribly stupid. Dumb. No thought behind his eyes. You want to smash his head against a concrete wall. 

…He’s teasing you. It finally dawns on you.

Now, you want to smash your head against a concrete wall.

Still, you admit defeat with a solemn tone in your voice. “Well, I really wanted the Enola Holmes poster to put up in my bedroom…” you mumble.

“And my dad said no?” he asks, eyebrows quirking up towards his hairline.

“Yes, Sunwoo. Your father said it’s prohibited to take posters home from the cinema, that’s exactly why I’m stopping you right now,” you say, tone filled with annoyance. You know he’s enjoying your face full of misery. But still, if there’s one thing you’re good at, it’s following the rules and orders– if Mr Kim says you can’t take the posters home, you’ll go in the back and tear them into pieces before throwing them into the bin like you’re told to. 

If things were going your way, you’d advise Sunwoo to do the same. 

A day with Kim Sunwoo in it never goes your way, though. You should’ve been prepared.

“So I can’t take those posters home because my dad said no?” he clarifies, looking like a dummy. Like one of those kids that ask the most obvious questions during exams. Like one of those kids you want to sucker punch in the face.

“Sunwoo–”

“Well, Y/N-ie,” he purrs, the nickname making your hands curl up in fists, “that’s too bad… because I am the owner’s son, so… the rules don’t really apply to me, you see.”

And with that, he sends another sickeningly sweet smile your way before he turns on his heel and marches towards the front door again– not responding to any of your annoyed, infuriated calls of his name. He doesn’t stop at your warnings. He doesn’t care.

And just like that, he disappears just as fast as he appeared. The interaction didn’t last more than 10 minutes, but you consider your whole day ruined.

Fucking Sunwoo and his fucking privileges. And his fucking annoying face. 

It’s not even that important. It’s just two posters that would get thrown out to the dumpster in the back at the end of your shift anyway. You don’t even care about those posters in particular– you just with equal rules applied to all workers in the workplace.

It’s not like Spiderman Homecoming is one of your favorite movies… not at all.

You could’ve had that poster. You deserved that poster. You sold tickets for it and served the snack booth when it premiered– not Kim Sunwoo and whatever his friend’s name was.

You kick the wall with your sneaker. It leaves a dirty mark.

You should’ve known the day felt too good to be true.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING (1993)

There’s a new thing Mr Kim is trying to lure more customers into the cinema. He calls it ‘Rewind Thursdays’, where he picks a movie from the past and airs it in the theater again to bring out nostalgia in the whole town. You think it’s a good idea– you remember when the Harry Potter movies had a rerun back when you were little, ecstatic that you finally got to see them in the cinema because you missed out on the experience when they were coming out for the first time. You went even though you saw them all before, and you had a blast. So in your books, this was the best thing that could happen to the little, old movie theater on the corner of the town’s square.

You were overbeared with joy when Mr Kim went up to you during one of your slow Wednesday shifts in the ticket booth with a paper and a pen, requesting you to write down your favorite movies. He informed you that he’d prefer it if they were older, to, quote, really get the nostalgia going, and you were happy to have some say in the list of movies to play for multiple reasons. One, because it meant he valued your opinion, and two, you don’t usually work on Thursdays, so if your favorite movie is on that day, you can go and relax in the cinema while watching it.

This all happened a few weeks ago. You gave the list back to your boss at the end of your shift, smiling brightly just thinking about it, and he told you he’ll get through it and see what he can incorporate. 

The plan gets to you on one uneventful Wednesday. You are stuck in the ticket booth again. Today is one of the Wednesdays where Sunwoo is in charge, because Mr Kim is out of town. You hate those days most of them all, but recently, he’s been giving you your freedom and letting you work in the ticket booth instead of cleaning the already clean cinema, saying he has stuff to do in the back. You suspect he just sits around in his father’s office with his legs on the table, chewing on his obnoxious strawberry mints. The image makes you furious only the tiniest bit, because the fact that he’s out of your sight and isn’t ordering you around is enough to calm your nerves. It could always be worse, you remind yourself. It could always be worse.

“I have the schedule of ‘Rerun Thursdays’ all done,” Sunwoo says as he walks up to the ticket booth close to the end of your shift. His eyes look a little tired when he holds up a thick card to you, the design of the poster making your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Did he do that?

“It’s ‘Rewind Thursdays’, actually,” you note, pointing towards the very obvious mistake on the top of the poster.

“Oh fuck– you know what, not anymore,” he scowls, taking the poster back from you and pointing glares at the title he mistyped, “I spent 3 hours on this, I’m not remaking it.”

“It looks like a kindergartener did it,” you note, eyes scanning the bubbly font and the orange-yellow combination used throughout the whole design when he offers the paper back to you. It looks like a Winnie the Pooh convention is taking place instead of an event full of nostalgic movies, and you would tell him that, but he beats you to it with a tired remark.

“Well, if my father wanted this to look professional, he should’ve hired someone to do it,” he mutters, obviously hurt by your harsh words, “I used Canva. I don’t know how Photoshop works and my dad can barely operate the computer, so this is what we’re going with, okay?” he says as he explains, big eyes suddenly bearing into yours. “Unless you wanna redo it yourself…?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Then this is the final poster,” he says, “I’m gonna hang those outside when we close,” he notes, watching you scan the movie titles. The event will take place in 4 weeks from the middle of November to the middle of December (right in time for Christmas movies to air, since you’re certain Mr Kim has another Christmas-themed business tactic up his sleeve). 

“Did any of your movies make it?” Sunwoo asks, surprisingly friendly. You can’t remember a single casual conversation with the male– all you two do it either give each other the silent treatment or scream at each other (more like you scream at him, but he always deserves it…), so you’re kind of surprised at the change. Not pleasantly surprised. Just surprised.

Eyes falling to the second movie on the list, you feel yourself nodding as you smile. It’s like a dream come true– you can finally see your favorite movie in the cinema for the first time. You don’t know who to thank for this miracle, but something in your insides feels very grateful. 

“Yeah,” you say, trying to seem unaffected. You’d rather kill yourself than to show any signs of emotion in front of Kim Sunwoo. All he deserves to see is your stone cold face.

“Which one?” he asks, seemingly interested.

“National treasure,” you hum, pointing to the movie on the list, having Sunwoo nod to himself. You expect him to say something to you– perhaps engage in a conversation like a normal person would– but suddenly, he gasps and takes out a folded piece of paper from his back pocket, offering it to you and playing the role of the manager again.

“Oh, by the way,” he starts, watching as you unfold the paper, “I know we don’t usually work on Thursdays, but since my dad decided to do all of this, we kinda have to, since he wouldn’t be able to handle the premieres on his own, so… Here's your schedule for the next 4 weeks,” he says, clasping his hands together in front of him.

It takes everything in you to not correct the male and tell him that those are technically not premieres, but when your eyes land on the little Excel table Sunwoo printed out for you, the feeling is overpowered with one of deep disappointment.

“I work the second week?” you ask, as if the question might magically change the schedule.

“I mean, I think you can read…” Sunwoo hums, shrugging to himself.

A heartbeat passes by of you staring at the schedule, a pit opening in your stomach at the realization. You only work 2 Thursdays out of 4, noticing the fact that you rotate with Sunwoo (with him somehow taking the first week, much to your surprise), but for some reason, one of those days had to be the day when National treasure is on. 

And sure, you might think this is good– you can just watch the movie while you work! 

Wrong.

Working means either staying in the ticket booth the whole time in case a customer comes, working the snack booth the whole time in case a customer comes, or cleaning the bathrooms. Working means also standing in front of the screening room sometimes, making sure no one is going in without a ticket in the middle of the movie. 

There is no time for you to watch National treasure if you’re working. 

Sighing, you decide to do something you always prohibited yourself from doing– you ask Kim Sunwoo for a favor. “Listen… my favorite movie is airing the week I work, so I was… wondering if we could exchange shifts? So I could go and watch it?” you ask, looking at your coworker with what you presume are pleading eyes. You hope it works on the boy– he looks like the type to fold under a tender gaze.

“So you want to get out of work only to still come?” Sunwoo clarifies, snickering.

“Pretty much, yeah,” you nod, tapping your fingers on the table.

“Well, the schedule is set,” Sunwoo shrugs, “I can’t do anything about it.”

Eyes sending darts to the very middle of Kim Sunwoo’s forehead, you take a few calming breaths before you speak up again. You don’t want to blow up on him when you’re asking him for a favor– you don’t think this approach would help you much in the situation.

“Why?”

“Because,” he shrugs. 

“Because?” you repeat. “That’s the reason?” you say, a weak laugh dragging out of your throat.

“Pretty much, yeah,” he mirrors your previous response, the blood in your veins already growing hot from the confrontation.

“Sunwoo, you– come on,” you say, “just this once, please? I’ll take the first week. We can just switch, what’s the difference?” 

Sunwoo tongues the inside of his cheek, eyes pointing towards the paper. “Schedule is schedule, Y/N. You have to follow it,” he says, an innocent look glazing his big fuckass boba eyes. Oh how you despise that look. It’s the look that tells you he finds this all so, so amusing, but won’t laugh in your face in hopes of teasing you some more. 

“Oh, amazing,” you say, throwing the schedule to the table, “I knew I could always count on you ruining my day, Kim Sunwoo. And I bet you did the schedule as well! You knew it was my favorite movie, so you made me work that week. Very nice of you, you dumbass. Thank you very much,” you grunt, annoyance flowing through your brain and making you truly merciless– you have no proof of Sunwoo even knowing which movie of yours made it in, or proof of him making the schedule– you don’t care, though. All you want at this moment is to claw his eyes out and pop them in between your fingers to ease the anger on your insides.

You can’t do that, though, so a screaming match will have to do the job.

“Stop being so dramatic,” he scoffs, eyebrows furrowing. “I didn’t even know which one your favorite movie was, so how could I do this on purpose? Plus, I didn’t even make the schedule, my dad did–”

“As if I would believe that,” you roll your eyes, huffing. “You’re all owner’s son privileges this, owner’s son privileges that, but when I ask you for one thing, one! Single! Fucking! Thing! You can’t do it,” you bite, words dripping in spite.

“Look, I really can’t-”

“You can’t do this one thing for me?” you cut him off, the question sounding like an ultimatum.

“No,” he shakes his head, seemingly unaffected by the conversation.

“Because…?” you demand a valid reason.

“Because I just can’t,” he shrugs, casual and cool. 

The world stills for a moment. You calculate your next move. Blood rushes in your ears, you see red. Your eyes fall on the clock– it’s 4 minutes after your shift. That’s it.

You take your coat draped over the chair, stand up from the chair and dash towards the front door. You can’t stand being around this man any longer– all he does is bring misery into your otherwise, already boring life. 

Speedwalking out of the place, you yell out a harsh “Go fuck yourself!” over your shoulder, leaving Sunwoo to close the cinema by himself. You don’t even change out of your uniform before you go– your head is too clouded with anger to remember to do so. Cursing out your coworker isn’t the best thing you could do in this situation, more so when he’s the owner’s son, but suddenly, you don’t really care about losing your job at the cinema anymore.

Maybe you should quit yourself, actually.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – HOW TO LOSE A GUY IN 10 DAYS (2003)

In your books, there aren’t many things worse than working three days in a row. You can only think of so many even when you try hard enough: like going to school in your pajamas, getting sick on the day of an important event, ripping your pants on the metro, standing outside of the cinema in a popcorn costume for 4 hours… 

Yeah. Not too many.

So naturally, on the third day of your work week, putting one sweetened coffee into your stomach after another, barely keeping your head up from the lack of sleep you’re getting in between classes, work, and writing your essays until 3 in the morning, you beg god for a calm shift. It’s Wednesday, the first week of Mr Kim’s ‘Rewind Thursdays’ event, and it just so happened that you were set to work the first half of the week while Sunwoo got the other half. 

The only thing keeping you going is the fact that you and Sunwoo will now basically not see each other’s face for the next four weeks– with the exception of Fridays and Saturdays, the premiere days. You’re getting a lot of shifts this month, but hey… Christmas is coming. At least you’ll have plenty of money to buy gifts for everyone this year. (Or not. You’re very underpaid.)

Entertaining yourself by watching the world outside of your window and mentally betting on the race of raindrops falling down the glass surface– because your phone battery almost ran out during class this morning and you forgot to bring your charger with you– you hope you don’t fall asleep right in this moment. Your boss is somewhere inside and if he oh just happens to check up on you (which he never normally does, but you can never be too sure), you’re certain you’d lose your job after taking a nap in the ticket booth. Some things just can’t be accepted. 

Cat fights with his son? Perfectly acceptable. Sleeping on the clock? Not so much…

Eyes drooping when the third raindrop race doesn’t go the way you bet on in your head, you figure you can just rest for a second or two… Eyelids shielding your irises from the orange hues of the lights inside, your brain already turning off and preparing a happy dream for you, you think that taking a nap is not such a bad idea right now…

Wrong.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” the noise of a thunder– actually, no, that was just someone’s voice– wakes you up and makes you jump in your chair, your knee hitting the bottom of the table making you hiss in sharp pain.

“Fuck, man–”

“Didn’t know taking a nap was in the job description,” Sunwoo grins at you through the glass window of the booth. His eyes twinkle in amusement as you drag your hand through your hair, trying to smoothe it down after tousling it in your weird sleeping position.

“I wasn’t sleeping,” you mutter, not even meeting his eye. 

“Oh?”

“Yeah… just had… my eyes closed…” you hum, scratching the back of your neck. Clearing your throat, you look back up at him with an disinterested look on your face. “Anyways, what do you want? You’re off today.”

Scanning his figure, fully taking in his appearance– the fabric of his dark gray hoodie a little stained with raindrops (you bet he ran from his car into the building without an umbrella. He seems like the type to be embarrassed about umbrellas.), the fabric of the garment enveloping his head and shading his face a little from the ugly yellow lights. His face is a little flushed– you presume it’s from the running– and his hair is falling into his face. You can barely see his eyes behind the curtain of chocolate locks– he really needs a trim.

“Damn, didn’t know you hated me so much that you can’t stand seeing me on my off days,” he jokes, leaning on the counter as if to stick his face as close as he can into yours. Thank god for the glass shielding you two– you think you’d give him a fist to the nose if you ever felt his breathing on your skin.

“I do,” you agree, impatiently drumming your fingers on the top of the table, “so tell me what you want so you can disappear again,” you say.

“I just went to check up on whether you were sleeping or not so I can tell my dad to fire you–”

“Kim Sunwoo–”

He puts his arms up defensively, eyebrows raising at your threatening tone. “Okay, not really. I don’t actually care that much. Besides, you promised to quit yourself anyway, so,” he explains, shrugging to himself, “believe it or not, I’m here to buy tickets for a movie.”

You shoot him a stare, the look in your eyes dead, stone cold as you ponder on his words. It’s cold outside, it’s raining, and Kim Sunwoo just happens to decide to buy tickets for a movie today. In a cinema that he works at. In a cinema that he works at tomorrow.

“You work tomorrow…?” you mirror your inner monologue, kind of confused at the turn of events.

“You know my schedule? I’m flattered–”

The irritation is slowly creeping into your bones again. Actually, it has been since he arrived, but the more he talks, the more agitating the whole encounter feels. Maybe you should tape his mouth shut the next time you see him– you bet the day would be so much better if you don’t have to listen to him talk. 

“Why don’t you just buy the tickets tomorrow when you work? Didn’t have to walk here in the rain,” you explain, sighing to prove just how annoyed you are with his presence.

“Because I kinda need them today,” he says, clarifying to you with the tone you use when you explain mundane things to a child.

You don’t know what he did in his past life to get the ability to annoy you each and every time you meet him, but you’d like some of it to get back at him in your next life. Why you’re even thinking of past lives and the possibility of meeting Kim Sunwoo in your next one, you’re not really certain, but if it helps you to not smash the glass separating you two, you guess you can get behind the thought process.

“Okay,” you nod, painfully calm for the amount of screaming you’ve been doing internally, “what movie?” you ask, turning your body to the computer on your right and breaking eye contact with him. If he’s a customer, you’re going to treat him like one– no small talk and no arguments. You won’t ruin your day even more over a man that doesn’t know what chapstick is. (You don’t stare at his lips, just for the record. It’s just painfully obvious when he talks. Sometimes you want to reach over and pluck away the dead skin with your fingers– you won’t, though. That would be weird.)

Sunwoo straightens his back as he fishes for his wallet in the front pocket of his jeans. “National Treasure,” he smiles, making you break into cold sweat, “two tickets, please.”

Like a scene in a horror movie, your head turns without moving the rest of your body, eyes twitching when you see him standing at the other side of the booth, calm and collected. Suddenly, the scene makes sense– he bought the tickets to see your favorite movie on the day of your shift. Of course. He just has to rub it in your face. 

Not only are you working that day. You will also most likely serve popcorn to him as he goes inside with whoever he is buying the second ticket for. And you will try not to trip him on his way inside the screening room.

It was a smart move for him to not go inside the ticket booth with you, even though he has all the right to. You bet he knows you’d claw his eyes out if you had the chance.

“You have to be kidding me.”

“What? I can’t buy tickets for a movie?” he asks, innocence dripping off his tongue.

Breathing deeply– while trying to contain the demon that’s begging to crawl out of your insides and tear him into 25 different pieces– you smile ironically at the male, gulping before you speak. “That would be 12 dollars, please,” you say, your customer service voice turning kind of eerie.

Not even letting the male choose his seats– he lost the privilege when he decided to come and buy the tickets for your favorite movie– you print out two tickets with the worst possible view (the ones in the first row, far right. If Sunwoo loses his neck because he has to look up at the screen for the entirety of the movie, well, who are you to hate that) and offer them to your coworker.

Like a mind game, the male slips them into his pocket without even looking at them, not breaking eye contact with you sitting behind the booth. 

“Have a nice day,” he says as he takes two steps back before fully turning and escaping through the front door, figure dashing towards the old Prius parked in front of the building.

Bawling your hands into fists, you try the breathing exercises you found the other week. Calm your body and your mind, the title said. You knew you’d need those when you saved the post into one of your boards on Pinterest.

Still, you can’t help yourself. You simply cannot. You let it out– it’s not healthy to keep negativity inside. 

He can’t hear you, but you still mutter a spiteful “I hope you choke,” under your breath as you settle back into the uncomfortable surface of the chair.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – YOU’VE GOT MAIL (1998)

Remember the time you said you didn’t really mind having more shifts in November, because it meant a bigger paycheck? Yeah… that was true. For a few days.

Until you got a phone call one day from none other than Kim Sunwoo– whose number you didn’t even want to save into your contacts, but after his insisting that it’s for work purposes, did so under the name ‘dumpster raccoon’– telling you that you have to get to work immediately, that his dad said so, and that it’s an emergency. 

Do you believe him? No. Absolutely not. 

His tone of voice was too calm to be in an emergency. If his dad wanted you to come to work today, he could’ve called you himself instead of making his son do it. And also, you really don’t know what’s so important to take care of on a Wednesday, since it’s the slow day of the week, but still– you angrily took off the facemask from your face before the timer even went off, shut your laptop with a half-watched episode of The office in your Netflix window, changed out of your comfy clothes and marched towards the cinema. 

Because you never know. He might be saying the truth, after all. And if that was the case, you didn’t want to be caught disobeying your boss.

You get to the old movie theater on the corner of the town center at 4 in the afternoon. The sky is already getting dark and you feel the coldness of November seeping into your bones, and so you waste no time in getting inside and chasing the heat of the vintage-looking interior. Your boots make a thudding sound as you walk across the hall, seeing Sunwoo sitting in the ticket booth in his usual habitat: with his phone in his hands and his feet up on the table, chewing on his favorite strawberry mints. Now this sight screams emergency if you’ve ever seen one.

“What was so important for you to call me to work and then chill in the ticket booth all afternoon?” you ask, spite slipping off your tongue with every word you speak. 

Sunwoo looks up at you from under his eyelashes, hair still slightly shielding his eyes. He doesn’t even have his uniform on– there’s a gray hoodie enveloping his torso (you swear he lives in this garment. You wonder if he even washes it sometimes) and black jeans hanging off his hips– and the more you stare at him, the more you feel like punching him in the face.

“Oh,” he hums, stretching out his limbs from the hours of sitting on the chair unmoving, “dad said to tell you to clean the screening room. Since it’s Thursday tomorrow, and all.”

The look on his face is innocent. He looks like he just told you the most casual piece of information– and truth be told, he kind of did. The whole thing is just not making any sense right now. 

“I should clean the screening room today? You’re on the clock, though, why don’t you do it?” you ask, frustration clearly written all over your face. You were looking forward to having a self-care day today, so you can only imagine how tired of his endeavors you are right in this moment. 

“Yeah, but I am on ticket booth duty, so I can’t,” he shrugs, frowning a little to prove his nonexistent point.

“It’s Wednesday. It’s not busy. You know you can do both.”

“Look, it’s not me, it’s my dad–”

“Is it? Is it, Sunwoo?” you huff, arms flying into the air. “Or are you just using me to do the work you don’t feel like doing? Because it really does seem like that right now,” you bite, running your hand through your hair in exasperation. 

“Do you want me to call him?” Sunwoo asks, tone of voice suddenly threatening. 

A heartbeat passes. You continue to have a staring contest with him. The fury inside of you rages like a storm. Still, you nod to the feeling of authority coming from your actual boss, and so you wordlessly turn on your heel and march towards the screening room, ready to clean the place in the least amount of time so you can go home and back to your selfcare endeavors. (You’re adding printing out Sunwoo’s face and throwing darts at it to the list of activities. You think you really need that right now.)

The screening room is dark when you come inside, and as you reach towards the lightswitch, you almost fear something jumping at you. See, the traumatic response from being locked up in the toilet from your coworker is still very present in your bones. When you stop working here, you’re going to ask for financial compensation for all the damage this boy did on your mental health.

You walk down the aisle of seats and try to inspect the damage. No movies air on Wednesday and there was only one kids movie going on Tuesday, so you can either expect it to be almost clean, or full of snacks that fell off the hands of grabby children during the cartoon. The more you inspect the place, though, the more it seems like… somebody already cleaned it before?

The floor is clean. The laminated surface under the seats has no smudge of dirt on it, like someone already mopped the place. And when you think back, the bins were empty as well.

The screening room was definitely cleaned before.

Which means that Sunwoo brought you here for absolutely nothing.

Suddenly, the lights go out. The whole room falls into darkness, and the anger inside of your veins very quickly mixes with panic as you try to climb up the stairs on the side of the screening room and escape. Your throat gets dry as you yell for your coworker, not really caring if your next outburst is going to get you fired or not.

“Kim Fucking Sunwoo, why the fuck did you call me to clean an already cleaned screening room?!” you yell, not really knowing if he hears you or not. Doesn’t matter– it feels cathartic to do so anyway.

Your feet stumble on the awkwardly-long stairs, your figure almost falling to the ground. Managing to hold yourself up and steady your body before your head hits the sharp corner of one of the stairs and makes you die, you continue on with your small tangent. “You really think this is funny? You’re having fun pranking me all the time? I hate your guts, Kim Sunwoo, and I hope you burn in hell!”

A bright light suddenly illuminates the screening room, coming from somewhere behind you. When you look over your shoulder, the screen is white for a few moments before the opening credits of a Jerry Buckheimer film flash on the big surface, halting you in your movements. The sound is a little too loud in the speakers, but it gets adjusted the moment you almost lose your hearing. The moment you see Nicolas Cage appear, it’s clear as day.

There’s a movie playing. And the movie playing is National treasure. 

You think you’re hallucinating. This is surely a fata morgana.

Standing in the middle of the screening room, your mouth hangs agape and your eyes go wide as you watch the first few scenes of the movie. Ben Gates already learns about the hidden treasure passed down through American history when you feel a slight nudge to your shoulder, making you turn your head to see a tall figure staring you down with a bucket of popcorn in their hands.

You are confused. So utterly confused. The movie was on last week. You’d know– you worked the snack booth that day. The screening room is empty and it’s Wednesday– what’s going on? 

“Can you sit? Or are you just going to watch the movie standing in the aisle,” Sunwoo grunts, balancing the big bucket of popcorn and two drinks in his large hands, the sight comical and almost making you want to watch him suffer some more.

Caught off guard, though, you let him back you into the aisle of seats, your figure slouching into one of the red cushions like a rag doll. Sunwoo takes place next to you, placing the big bucket of popcorn into your lap, before he settles into a seat as well and focuses his eyes and attention on the movie.

“What… what is this?” you ask, frozen in the seat. 

“Hm?” Sunwoo frowns, looking at you. “National treasure,” he hums, “I thought you’d know, since you threw a scene about it that one time.”

“I- I know that, I just…” you trail off, still surprised at the turn of events, “what’s going on right now…?”

“We’re watching National treasure,” he notes, talking to you as if you were slow.

“What…?”

A sigh escapes Sunwoo’s lips at your utter confusion, his hand coming up to the bucket of popcorn in your lap and throwing a handful of the snack into his mouth before speaking. “Look, Y/N. You said you wanted to watch your favorite movie in the cinema, so that’s what you’re doing. Enjoy my owner’s son privileges for once,” he shrugs, watching as your face morphs into an unreadable expression.

That explanation satisfies you for a bit. The shock in your insides, though? Still present.

There’s something about the whole gesture that makes your stomach feel uneasy. Sunwoo did something nice for you– out of the kindness of his own heart– and you really don’t know why he would even think of something like this. You two aren’t on the best terms either, after all. Maybe he finally went crazy.

Or maybe you did and this was all the result of your imagination. Either or. 

Yeah, you must be the one that’s gone batshit insane. Surely. You’re certain of the fact when you reach for the popcorn and accidentally touch his hand, the two of you deciding to get some at the same time, and your stomach does a flip and your brain makes a sign for you to quickly retract your hand– but the feeling of his slightly cold hand against your fingertips is now engraved into your memory and won’t leave and let you focus on the movie no matter how hard you try.

“You wouldn’t have to do this if you just let me switch schedules with you that time,” you note, “just saying.”

“I couldn’t,” he shrugs.

“Huh? But you bought two tickets..?”

“Yeah, but those were for my friends. I had to drive my mum down to grandmas that day, so I couldn’t go or take your shift that day,” he hums, not once breaking eye contact with the screen.

“If you would’ve just said so, I wouldn’t have made a scene about it–”

“Yeah… but I enjoy watching you make a scene,” he grins, shifting his attention towards you for a second with that lazy smirk playing with his lips. His hair is falling into his eyes and you have the urge to get it out of his face with a motion of your hand while also scolding him like a mother to finally get a haircut, just so you could see the twinkle in his mischievous orbs.

“You need to get serious help, then,” you grunt, pointing your gaze back towards the screen, unable to look at his face for any longer. He’s being annoying again. You’re annoyed.

“Probably,” he admits.

You two sit in silence for a while, the only sound accompanying you being the movie playing out on the big screen in front of you. You think this is the calmest you two have ever been around each other, and you’re starting to think that if Sunwoo just didn’t talk, you two could even get along.

Something touches the side of your thigh in the darkness of the room. Eyes darting to the source, you notice Sunwoo’s thigh pressing against yours, the cause of his obnoxious man-spreading, and something about the closeness of his body and the smell of his citrusy cologne makes you feel like your chest is heaving in on itself. You can’t stand him around you. You two can’t share this close of a space.

“Are you not leaving?” you ask.

“No,” he hums, “should I be?”

“Well, you’re on the clock…”

The man snickers, shaking his head in disbelief. “Y/N, you and I both know that the possibility of someone coming to buy a ticket on a Wednesday afternoon is close to zero. Me being there makes no difference in today’s sales.”

His hand knocks into yours again as you reach for more popcorn. You gulp, nodding. “Right…”

“And I wanted to see the movie to see if it’s really that good to make a scene about it,” he teases, another playful look sent your way from the corner of his eye.

You grunt, rolling your eyes. Oh how you hate his guts…

And even though you love the movie, you pray for it to end quickly. The more time you spend with Sunwoo forced into your zone of comfort, the more uncomfortable you feel– even the slightest movement of his body affects you and makes your brain turn on overdrive. It’s strange and it’s weird, and you don’t understand how hatred for a person could manifest in such reactions. 

It’s better that you didn’t notice you two sitting in the love seat. God knows you wouldn’t handle that well. You’d rather die than to hold on to that knowledge.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – CLUELESS (1995)

They say that you only start realizing just how stupid people can be when you work in customer service. As one of the only three employees of the small, vintage cinema on the corner of the town’s square, you can only agree with the sentiment– you have a lot of stories to tell about the wonders of the human brain.

Like that one time you got screamed at because the movie tickets were ‘too expensive’ – because naturally, you should be able to change the price of them when asked. Or that one time you got screamed at because the movie tickets were sold out– because naturally, you should add more seats to the screening room just for the two middle-aged women to sit on during the premiere of the newest Orlando Bloom movie. Or when somebody yelled at you for the toilets being full after the movie– naturally, you are supposed to throw people out in the middle of them peeing. Or build new stalls. Either or.

They say that you only start realizing just how stupid people can be when you work in customer service, but truly, you also realize just how rude they can also be for no reason at all.

Much like today. It’s Friday, which means it’s premiere night. The tickets to all movies this week are sold out already, so no one is on ticket booth duty, and much to your relief, Mr Kim took the snack stand himself. Your responsibility for the day is scanning the tickets and then making sure no one is getting inside during the movie without a ticket. 

It’s not a hard job. Not at all– you would even say nothing about working in the cinema is hard, when you don’t have an annoying coworker trying to make your whole life a living hell– but you see, customers love to make your job harder just by being unreasonably rude about things that are clearly out of your control. 

“Sir, I really can’t let you in, I’m sorry,” you say, tone of voice polite despite screaming on the inside. In front of you is standing a tall man, maybe a few years older than you, the expression on his face full of anger and vexation. They say a customer is always right. You agree only when the customer looks like they could wait for you after work and beat you up in the bushes. Sadly, that still doesn’t mean you can let the man inside without a valid ticket.

“What do you mean? Little one, I’m telling you I bought the ticket here, so if you don’t let me in–”

“All tickets purchased for the screening should be able to scan through this, sir, and if it doesn’t work, I am not allowed to let you inside of the cinema,” you try to explain, getting kind of desperate. The line behind him was forming and the movie was supposed to play in a few minutes, so if you wanted to scan all the tickets in time, you had to be quick.

He wouldn’t budge, though. His eyebrows are furrowed and the guy behind him seems to be getting angry as well, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up alert, like a cat when it senses danger. You try your hardest to keep your tone firm, hands clasped politely behind your back. “I’m gonna have to ask you to leave, sir, or maybe check in with the owner about the issue? I don’t have the competence to–”

“Listen, I won’t be talking to anyone, because you will let me in, okay?”

“Sir, I can’t-”

Your sentence is cut off by the man again, his fury making you take a step backwards in fear. “And if you don’t, you will see the consequences.”

Gulping, you try to think of a way to get out of this situation. Mr Kim is too far away for you to call, and he is also busy– the line is long and Sunwoo isn’t working today. It’s just the two of you today, so your options are getting slimmer. You can’t let that man in without a working ticket– it seems like the one he’s showing you is either a fake one, or bought in another cinema– but it seems like if you don’t, he’ll have you dead before the next morning. 

“So?”

Opening your mouth to answer (although your brain is still empty and you don’t even know what more to say), a low voice coming from behind you startles you in the middle of your crisis. “Is there a problem here?” 

Turning your head to the source of the voice, you’ve never been more relieved to see Kim Sunwoo in your close proximity. You watch as he puts a rolled-up poster to the ground behind you before he takes another step closer towards your figure, his expression stone cold and glaring at the man in front of you. 

“Your coworker here won’t let me in to watch the movie,” he complains, hand waving around in a threatening way. 

Just having Sunwoo around makes you more confident. Clearing your throat, your eyes dart to your coworker, seeing his face morph into irritation. “It won’t scan his ticket, so…”

“If it won’t scan your ticket, it means it’s invalid and we’re not allowed to let you in,” Sunwoo says, tone of voice way less polite than the one you were using before.

“That’s ridiculous-”

“You are ridiculous,” Sunwoo grunts, annoyance clearly written all over his face. “You were asked to leave, so maybe you should.” 

Truth be told, you’ve been in a couple of arguments with Sunwoo before. In none of them has he ever looked and sounded like this, though. You and Sunwoo argue with spite– sparks flying waiting to start a fire, curses and harsh words thrown around carelessly in moments of heated hatred. His tone is stern, but never threatening. Never mean. Not in the way he’s being right now.

It makes you stare at him wordlessly. He seems to be taking the lead in the situation, reacting territorially to the man in front of him. You can’t say you don’t feel safer with him around– you would be lying.

“Maybe you could just let me in and get this over with–” 

“And maybe you could fuck off,” Sunwoo says back, something in his tone making your stomach feel all light. He looks serious, standing his ground, and the man finally seems to get the memo that he’s not watching the premiere tonight, because he backs off and grits his teeth at the male.

“Your boss will hear about this,” he threatens, making Sunwoo chuckle.

“I’m sure he will.”

Sympathetic looks are thrown your way from the women in the line behind that can finally come up to you so you scan their tickets. You smile at each one and try to seem unaffected by the exchange, but the memory of it still lingers in your brain and doesn’t make you rest easy as you greet the rest of the customers. 

You didn’t even realize Sunwoo was still standing next to you, watching you work. He seems to recognise your shaken-up composure, tone of voice sympathetic and quiet as he asks: “You okay?”

“What?” you ask, surprised by the question, “oh. Yeah, I’m fine. He was just… being a bitch, the usual.”

“Yeah,” he snickers, “why didn’t you just scream at him like you do to me? I bet that would scare him away,” he notes, making you roll your eyes at the comment.

“Because he looked like he could beat me up, Sunwoo.”

“And I don’t?” he gasps, suddenly offended.

You scan the boy up and down, pretending to think it over for a few before you shake your head. “No,” you shrug, “I could beat you up.”

“Excuse you?” he gasps, crossing his arms at his chest in a defensive stance, the shock on his face mixing in with amusement. 

“Don’t believe me? Wanna try?” you test, the conversation suddenly flowing freely, without you even noticing. You don’t pay it much thought, but you guess getting along with Sunwoo is easier when he’s on your side. Most of the time, he’s not, though– and maybe that’s the problem.

“Okay,” he nods, “meet me in the back when you’re off. No weapons allowed, we’ll do it the street style. This is a battle of fists,” he points a finger at you, the sentence making you sigh dreamily and point your eyes towards the ceiling.

“You can’t even imagine how long I’ve been waiting for this moment.”

Sunwoo smiles at that– that dumb, boyish smile you usually so despise– and shakes his head at your antics. The conversation dies down a bit after the exchange– with you scanning the tickets and trying your hardest to make it through the line before the movie starts, when your coworker, dressed in none other than his signature gray hoodie and black jeans, nudges you with his elbow. “Want me to stay for a bit, or are you good now?”

“I can take care of myself, Sunwoo,” you sigh, “you can go about your day.”

“Well, it didn’t seem like it a few minutes ago–”

“I can take care of myself when I’m not confronted with a tall muscled man that is threatening me, Sunwoo,” you repeat, looking at the rest of the line, “so with him gone now, you can go about your day. What are you even doing here, by the way? I thought you were off today.”

“I am,” he nods, rocking a little in his place, shifting weight from his heels towards his toes, “I was just… here to drop off something for you,” he says, clearing his throat and pointing towards the poster he was holding when he first approached you, the shiny tube now resting against the nearest wall. 

You shoot the boy a curious look, eyebrows furrowed in question. You don’t get to ask for clarification about the character of the poster, because he abruptly cuts off your train of thought, speaking fast as if to avoid making any more conversation with you. “I’ll see you in the back after you’re done for that fist fight, then. Bye!”

And before you get a chance to say anything back, Sunwoo swiftly turns on his heel and awkwardly marches towards the front door. You don’t have much time to inspect the thing he dropped off for you, but after you’re done with scanning the tickets and have time to breathe when the movie starts, you allow yourself to peek inside– 

only to see a National treasure poster staring back at you, surface glossy and glimmering, as if you just opened a chest full of gold. 

As you take the poster to the staff room with you (while also wearing a huge, embarrassing grin on your face for someone staring at the face of Nicolas Cage), making sure it’s safe and sound until you can bring it home with you, you wonder why you haven’t been civil with Kim Sunwoo before.

It’s good to have a taste of his owner’s son privileges sometimes.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – ME BEFORE YOU (2016)

The day is Friday, the 1st of December. Mr Kim’s ‘Rewind Thursdays' event is over and while Fridays are always the premiere days, meaning you usually have to work the evenings either in the snack booth or in the ticket booth, your boss told you you can have the night off under one condition– you come in the morning (since you told him your classes are done for the semester, he’s been keen on making you work at random times of the day) and help Sunwoo with Christmas decorations in the cinema.

And, well, who are you to say no to a free evening? Maybe you can finally have that self-care time you’ve been needing before your exam season starts.

“Can you get the ladder from the back?” Sunwoo asks, tone of voice not at all interested. You don’t know what the reasoning behind his mood is, but you figure it’s either the fact that he had to get up before 12, or the fact that he doesn’t really seem like the type to like decorating.

“Why don’t you get it?” you huff, wiping your forehead off the sweat that’s cumulated on it over the time you spent bringing out all the boxes full of decorations out of the staff room. “I brought everything in, maybe you can do some work for once.”

One would think your dynamics with Kim Sunwoo would shift after he’s been nice to you on multiple occasions. And sure, you don’t really fight with him as often and he hasn’t pulled a prank on you in a while, but some days, his whole presence is still just as annoying to you as it’s been for the past couple of months. There’s not really much you can do about it– especially not when he’s bossing you around and not doing any actual work himself.

“I built the christmas tree,” he grunts, opening one of the boxes full of ornaments, squinting at the contains with disgust on his face. “And I put up all the other useless stuff before you got here too,” he says, pointing a glare at you. 

Looking around the theater, you notice various types of decorations all over the place. There’s some mistletoe hanging off the ceiling (which has you wondering how he even got it there in the first place) and garlands framing all the doorways– the greenery making the whole place decorated in a very vintage tone. It’s fitting to the theme of the cinema, though, and you can tell that Sunwoo really can’t be arsed to do any better, so you don’t mention it out loud in favor of avoiding another one of your petty cat fights.

Admitting your defeat, you storm back into the staff room and carry out the tall ladder, struggling to fit through the doorways and to cross the corners, praying to all higher forces that you don’t accidentally scratch off pieces of the wall on your way to Sunwoo.

You put down the metal construction with a loud thud, making the boy look up at you from beneath his bangs, the silent curse evident in his eyes. You don’t know what’s up with him, but again, you won’t ask. You try to tell yourself that you don’t really care either, but with every glance towards his direction, the question keeps bugging you and dancing around your brain. 

You force yourself not to care.

Watching as he tries to untangle the Christmas lights, struggle evident in the frustration written all over his face, you sigh and walk over to him, taking the bundle of wire out of his hands and threading your skilled fingers through the lengthy cable. You’re an expert in untangling– you don’t own bluetooth headphones, so you do this pretty much every day before listening to some music. Your headphones love to tangle in your pocket no matter how neatly you try to keep them in your pants– it’s a mystery. Almost like the Bermuda triangle. 

“I can do it myself,” Sunwoo huffs, eyebrows furrowing when he watches you work your magic.

“You seemed like it too,” you ironically note, letting the spiteful side of you win, enjoying yourself when you’re rewarded by the snarky roll of Sunwoo’s eyes– everything is back to normal. You two aren’t friends, you don’t like to be in each other’s presence, and no number of shiny stolen posters and private sessions in the screening room will ever change that.

“Hold this,” you say, thrusting the end of the cord into his hand, walking a few meters away from him as you detangle the lights, watching as he impatiently stomps the floor with his heel, reminding you of Snowball from The secret life of pets movie.

When you’re done and the Christmas lights are now a straight line of wire, you slowly walk over to the tall tree in the middle of the room, wrapping the lights around the fake forest-green needles. You’re glad that the lights are long enough to cover the whole thing and you don’t have to untangle another ones, and when you’re done, you watch your coworker plug them in, examining the small, colorful light bulbs. 

“Okay, now the ornaments,” you say, more to yourself than to anybody in the room, as you waltz over to the boxes and take out the decorations varying in shapes and sizes. You don’t really know what color scheme Mr Kim wants you to go for– and you doubt Sunwoo is aware either, so you just take out the ornaments you find the most pretty and hang them all over the tree, making sure each branch is covered.

Sunwoo stands around for a while, unmoving as he watches you, before he sighs to himself and finally decides to help. You leave him be, thinking that it’s for the best if you two don’t speak today when he’s in such a bad mood, but you break that promise almost immediately when you stare back at the tree after retrieving some more ornaments from the box to your right and notice the almost painful clash of colors.

You should’ve known you can’t trust a man with decorating. The beautiful contrast of the baby pink and brown ornaments you put on the tree is now ruined by the green ones you intentionally left on the bottom of the box. The colors don’t go together at all and you want to claw your eyes out every second you have to stare at it.

“Sunwoo, those colors don’t go together at all,” you say, point and blank– no sugarcoating, no offensive words, just straight facts.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, that tree looks terrifying, and it’s all because you ruined it,” you say.

Okay, maybe you are overreacting just the slightest. But isn’t there fun in making your coworker completely out of his mind? Is this your roles being reversed for the first time? Are you finally winning this little game? 

Nevertheless, you are enjoying the outburst that follows from Sunwoo. Mainly because he looks like a child throwing a tantrum as he huffs and takes off the green ornaments he put on to the tree and throws the handful back into the cardboard box, not really caring if they break or not. You’ll be replaying this scene in your head forever before you go to sleep, for the absolute frustration and annoyance on his face is one of your biggest trophies. Right now, though, you’re battling the urge to laugh.

“Fine, do it yourself, then,” Sunwoo says as he walks away from the tree, choosing to sit on the floor cross-legged, taking out his phone and scrolling through social media.

Again, you don’t know what’s gotten into him today, but you force yourself not to care. You have a job to finish here so you can go home and enjoy your day, and that’s why exactly you just shrug and finish putting on the pretty ornaments, admiring your work every once in a while when you take a break and stare on the tall tree, kind of breathless from the beauty.

You’re not really big on Christmas, but you must admit that this is fun. 

The sound of Sunwoo swiping through Instagram reels is the only thing accompanying your actions, and as you look over your shoulder and see his almost sad face, you bite your lip just to not ask him what’s the matter. You’re not supposed to care. And you don’t.

“Can’t you put some festive music on?” you ask instead, your lips just begging to have a conversation with the male, despite your best judgment.

“No,” Sunwoo barks back, not even taking his eyes off the phone as the sound of the reel changes into another one, a swipe of his thumb across the screen showing him another video. 

Nodding to yourself, you carefully try to pick out your next words. Not really sure how to address the male, you choose to approach him with a hint of humor you’re not sure he’ll appreciate. “What’s up with you? You’re bitchier than usual,” you say, scanning the male with cautious eyes.

Sunwoo stops for a while– a millisecond of him halting his scrolling, an action you wouldn’t notice if you weren’t trying to see any shift in his composure– before he speaks up again. “Nothing,” he shrugs.

“Okay,” you say, a tone of voice full of doubt. 

When you conclude that you’re not getting more answers out of him, you nod to yourself and dart back towards the Christmas tree, making sure you make more eye contact with the glossy ornaments than with your coworker sitting behind you on the ground. Not much time passes by before he speaks up again, though, tone of voice quiet and hesitant.

“I’m just not in the mood today,” he sighs, “I have a final next week and it’s stressing me out, I haven’t slept well in quite a few days, my dad’s making me work more than usual and on top of that, I absolutely hate winter.”

“You hate winter?” you choose to focus on the least serious topic of the little rant, not really knowing when your boundaries lay in discussing the more serious ones.

“Yeah,” Sunwoo chuckles, “it’s like a shittier fall. It’s cold and dark all the time. It would be different if it snowed, though. I love it when it snows.”

Snickering at his sudden confession, you shake your head. “You’re like a little kid.”

“I remember you calling me a child once,” Sunwoo hums in agreement.

“That was different,” you say, hoping to cheer the male up at least a bit with your usual quarrel.

“I figured by the way you threw the toilet brush to my chest,” Sunwoo laughs, the memory of torturing you fond in his brain. The poster he gave you almost made you forget about the fact that he managed to make your life a living hell for quite some time– maybe you should consider this a wake-up call.

The conversation quiets down for a bit, even the sound of Sunwoo’s Instagram reels discontinued as you two marvel in the now much more comfortable silence. Testing the waters, you clear your throat before speaking up again. “Don’t worry about that exam, by the way. I’m sure you’ll do well.”

“How would you know?”

“You’re clever. You need to be clever to come up with all various ways to make my life more miserable,” you say, smiling when you hear him let out a breath of air through his nose, signaling a silent laugh.

“Any advice on the sleepless nights?” he asks, tone of voice light and humorous.

“Less things in your head,” you hum, putting the last ornament onto one of the branches, satisfied with your work. “Or melatonin.”

“Noted,” he nods, sharing a smile with you.

Walking over to the boxes stored a few feet away from the male, you open up the slim one thrown on the side, holding up the star. Your eyes meet his, a carefree twinkle in your orbs when you try to cheer up the boy’s inner child by doing a child's favorite activity. “Do you want to put the star on?”

He fails you, though. “No.”

“Why not?”

“You decorated it all yourself, so you can do the star,” he shrugs, not really into your idea.

“Oh come on–”

“I don’t feel like standing up,” Sunwoo grunts, the joy on your insides finally dying down when you get a taste of his usual composure– the one that really can’t be arsed with anything. 

Sighing to yourself, you waltz over to the tall ladder, and despite your biggest worries, you continue climbing up the metal construction even when it wobbles and makes you fear you’re gonna fall. The whole thing is kind of unsteady and makes your heart thump in your throat, but you choose to get it over with and finally climb to the very top, outstretching your arm and putting the star on top of the tree, the decoration process now done and freeing you off your today’s work responsibilities.

Something akin to satisfaction beams in your insides as you climb down the ladder, and now, you’ll write this off to you being a little too excited with the vision of a face mask and popcorn at home– but your leg slips on one of the steps and despite the ladder being now magically steady, your body comes crashing down to the floor.

A yelp fights out of your throat, hands go flying in a desperate need to steady yourself or hold on to something that would make you not fall hard against the marble floor, when a miracle straight down from heaven comes to rescue in a form of flesh holding you up and shielding you from the fall, a grunt landing in your ears when your body settles into soft fabric of dark gray.

Head snapping to the source of the arms around your waist, surprised at the person’s strength used to balance you two on your feet as you fell (well, your knees buckled, but still, they haven’t yet hit the ground), you notice a pair of chocolate orbs staring down at you through a curtain of dark hair, wide eyes scanning your face and breathing out a puff of air.

“Look where you’re stepping next time, for fuck’s sake,” Sunwoo huffs, watching as your brain tries to process the near-death experience.

Registering his arms firmly placed around your waist (now realizing the soft fabric was the hoodie he’s been living in for the past few months), the citrusy scent of his cologne makes your head spin, eyes scanning his face in quick motions, as if not aware of who was your savior. You wonder how he even got to you on time (not really noticing him walking over to the ladder as soon as he saw it wobbling under you, holding it down to keep you from toppling over), and when your eyes curiously gaze at his chapped, yet plush lips, the warmth in your stomach makes you finally snap out of it. 

Untangling yourself out of his limbs, much like you did with the Christmas lights a few minutes ago, you clear your throat and try to get your breathing back to normal. Your knees are a little weak, but you write that off to the shock of falling. 

“This wouldn’t have happened if you just agreed to put the star on,” you complain, straightening your clothes as you walk over to the empty boxes nearby, stacking them into one another and avoiding all possible eye contact with the male.

It’s working– at least that’s what you keep telling yourself– up until you hear him chuckle and see a pair of hands taking the tower of boxes out of your hold, a charming grin sent your way as he walks away from you to the staff room. “If you say so.”

Okay, so it’s not working.

You’re fucked.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – THE PROPOSAL (2009)

“So… I was thinking,” Sunwoo starts one day, a bundle of rolled-up posters stacked up in his arms like a pyramid, puffs of cold air making clouds appear in front of his face as he speaks, “would you want to go see a movie with me?” he asks, tone of voice casual, as if he was asking you about the weather.

The poster you’re currently putting up into one of the glass holders outside of the cinema almost slips out of your frozen fingers out of shock, your heart skipping a beat. “Huh?” you hum, taking out a container full of pins out of your coat pocket and securing the poster to its designated place. “You want to bring money to your father’s competitor?” you joke.

“What? No,” he quickly replies, furrowing his brows as he shakes his head. “I meant, like, here,” he says, nodding towards the building to prove his point, taking a step aside when you close the glass door of the poster holder and move towards the next one, 3 more movie banners left to put up outside of the cinema. 

The wires in your brain work on full force, trying to clear out any confusion caused by his sudden invitation. Sure, you two have gotten closer ever since you talked with him at the Christmas tree a week ago, but still, you didn’t know it was enough to hang out outside of work hours. 

Instead of focusing the conversation on this unpredictable development, you turn towards clearing out the logistics instead. “How would we even do that? We either work at the same time or you work when I don’t and the other way around,” you say, taking the next poster from him and putting it up.

All of the movies airing the next two weeks are Christmas movies. Some of them are old, some of them are premieres, but still– you can’t really imagine watching a festive movie with your coworker. Up until last week, you thought of him as the next reincarnation of Grinch.

“I could get my sister to switch with me on a day you don’t work,” he hums, sheepish about his preposition. There’s something bashful in his tone, something shy in his gaze as he watches you put up the movie poster, but you try your hardest to ignore it for the sake of your sanity. You’re already having a hard time dealing with the fact that he appeared in your dreams twice since he caught you in his arms last week. You don’t need to add the switch in dynamic to the mix.

“Isn’t she underage?” you ask, snickering.

“Yeah, and?” he shrugs. “It’s a family business, Y/N. Everyone has to be included, underage or not.”

A laugh erupts out of your throat at the comment, shaking your head at the boy in disbelief. 

“What would you even wanna see? Those are all Christmas movies,” you say, moving along and focusing your attention to the glossy material in your fingers.

“I don’t see how that’s a problem,” he says. 

“Oh, it is,” you mutter, “I don’t like Christmas movies.”

Sunwoo grunts. “Well, I don’t really care. I saw your favorite movie with you, so you can return the favor and see my favorite movie with me,” he speaks up, making you roll your eyes at his words.

“There’s no way any of those movies is your favorite,” you note, doubtful tone haunting the boy.

“You wouldn’t know,” he laughs, making your heart do cartwheels at the sound, his teasing making you feel warmth despite the cold breeze trying to make your bones freeze into blocks of ice. 

“I won’t go unless I believe you,” you say, grinning as you close the glass box and take the last poster out of Sunwoo’s hands, watching as the boy puts his frozen fingers into the comfort of his warm jacket, shielding them from the cold. 

“Not fair.”

“Very fair, actually.”

“Oh come on,” he sighs, shaking his head in disagreement, “I thought we could watch a Christmas movie as a celebration to the end of semester,” he says, tone of voice almost pleading.

Securing the last banner into its designated place, you turn towards Sunwoo with an examining look on your face. He seems to be completely serious, eyes big pools of honey as he watches your face morph as you think. Something in your stomach makes it feel like it’s flying, making you clear your throat as you avert your gaze towards the line of Christmas movie posters on the brick wall. “Fine,” you gulp, “so what do you wanna watch?”

“The Polar Express,” he says, pointing towards the A3 scale you put up last, showing one of the movies that were older, but Mr Kim decided to air anyway– as if he was aware.

Fuck, you think. That’s my favorite. 

“Absolutely not,” you cough, “I hate that movie.”

“Huh? How?” he sighs, face full of disappointment. 

“Just because. It’s too long.”

“It’s not even two hours?”

Eyes quickly darting towards the poster, pupils shaking as you look towards the airing dates at the very bottom, you chew on your bottom lip, trying to find a way out. “You’re working on the 18th.”

“Okay, then we can go on the 19th,” Sunwoo says, determined to make you watch the movie with him. Why? You don’t even want to know at this point.

“I go home for Christmas break on the 19th,” you say, shrugging. “See? It wasn’t meant to be.”

“Y/N, come on–”

“Listen, can’t we just go back to hating each other instead of you annoying me about this stupid movie?” you sigh. In the whirlpool of events, you forgot just how insistent Sunwoo could be– who knows, maybe this was the real reason why you were so irritated with him in the first place.

Slowly walking back towards your workplace, hearing Sunwoo’s sneakers hit the ground behind you as he trails after you like a lost puppy, a sense of momentarily victory flows through your veins when you recognise that you found your way out. There was no way Mr Kim would let his underage daughter work instead of Sunwoo, and you truly were leaving home the evening of 19th. You already had a train ticket– you’re not gonna change your plans because of a man you despised just a few days ago.

“I never really hated you, by the way. Besides, you’re only saying that because you hate the movie,” Sunwoo grunts, chiming in front of you– making you think he’s being petty and doesn’t want to talk to you anymore, surprising you when he opens the door for you and offers you a solemn gaze, waiting for you to walk through the entryway and go back to work. (For you, it’s sitting in the ticket booth in silence. For Sunwoo, it’s pretending to work in the back, since his dad is absent today again)

Reciprocating his gaze, noticing the disappointment behind your coworker’s eyes, you feel something in your stomach drop, the weight of it so heavy you quickly avert your look. 

“Maybe,” you shrug.

And maybe, the true reason is something completely else. 

The words resonate through your brain– ‘I never really hated you, by the way’. Funny. Then what were all those months of torture all about?

You decide you no longer want answers.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – WHEN HARRY MET SALLY (1989)

You can’t believe you’re doing something nice for Kim Sunwoo.

Shoes hitting the gravel, your scarf pulled up so it covers your nose from the ice cold air, a hat hugging your head in warmth and shielding you from the aggressive weather, you start to contemplate your choices and your next moves. A sigh escapes your throat when your eyes land on the marquee above the entrance of the movie theater, teeth chewing on the inside of your cheek as you shift your weight from one foot to another.

Pulling out your phone to check the time, a shiny 7:24PM stares back at you, pushing you to walk up to the door of your workplace on your day off, 24 minutes after the beginning of The polar express. 

You feel silly. You feel oh so stupid when you push the door open and your body is immediately engulfed in warmth, the yellow dim lights of the cinema making your eyes slowly adjust to the brightness contrasting the darkness of the outside world. You feel like you must have gone crazy, especially when your insides start to get all light and bubbly, hints of nerves tingling at the tips of your fingertips and the deepest corners of your stomach. There’s no turning back now, you tell yourself– and when your feet automatically take you to the ticket booth, gaze landing on the boy with his bangs in his eyes and an expression worthy of a kicked puppy on his face, you suddenly feel like your trip to the cinema was all worth it.

Clearing your throat, you notify your coworker of your presence, his big, doe eyes staring at you in surprise. Sunwoo’s mouth goes agape, shock overtaking his features when he takes in your appearance. (You bet he thinks you look laughable– your eyes teary from the cold and your figure stoic, numb limbs hanging by your side.)

“What are you doing here?” he asks, the question not as aggressive as it sounded out of your lips every time he paid a visit to the cinema on his days off for all these months.

“Uh… I forgot some things in the back and I wanted to take them home tomorrow, so I came back for them,” you hum, the practiced excuse slipping out of your lips with ease, “can you come help me?” 

Sunwoo looks even more surprised at your question– although there is now a hint of confusion in the mix. What could you possibly have in the back to need his help with? For as far as he knows, you only ever kept your work uniform in your locker. “What? Can’t you get it yourself…?” he asks, noticing as you shake your head in disapproval.

“It’s… it’s on the top of the lockers and I can’t reach it, so-”

“Grab a chair…?” 

You didn’t really expect to have Sunwoo question your half-assed excuse. Truly, you thought this was going to go smoothly– but knowing Kim Sunwoo, you should’ve known it was never going to go the way you planned. You’re determined to win, though. 

And so it’s the time to bring out the big guns– men never say no when you praise them and make yourself look incompetent.

“Please? I don’t feel like bringing a chair and you’re tall enough. It will only take a second…” you pout, watching as the male in front of you sighs and stands up from his seat, nodding at your humble request.

Sunwoo follows you as you walk down the corridor, your heart thumping with the start of your little plan. Your steps are calculated and your movements carefully programmed, the nervousness in your stomach making you even more giddy with every meter of distance you two cross. 

Before you two get a chance to make it to the back, you make a swift turn and open the doors to one of the rooms on the left of the hall, dragging Sunwoo by his hand and tugging him inside. His body stumbles against yours, but the door closes behind him faster than he can react to the impact. Steadying the boy back to his feet, you watch him with anticipation, awaiting his reaction.

The truth is, you haven’t thought the plan out this far. The depiction of it in your brain always ended with you sneaking him into the projecting room and his curious eyes peering into yours. Something about the image of the events always made you feel too overwhelmed– you never dared to imagine the situation further. (That would mean admitting some hidden desires to yourself, so you never even tried. That all makes this situation twice as nerve-wrecking, though.)

“What… are we doing here?” he asks, eyes darting around the darkness of the projection room, the only light illuminating his pretty features being the movie playing behind the glass of the small booth.

“Didn’t you say you wanted to watch The polar express with me?” you ask, voice a few octaves higher than usual. 

“I… did…” he mumbles, confusion making him stumble over his own words.

“Well, you are working and I leave tomorrow, so I figured I had to find a way…” you shrug, watching as Sunwoo looks at you a little frozen, big eyes staring you down, gears turning in his head. You can’t really read him– you don’t really know if he’s going to laugh at you or send you home for ruining his shift. You don’t know if he appreciates the gesture, or if he thinks you’re being embarrassing. You don’t know if he registers the slight tremble of your hands and the lightness of your breathing, you don’t know if he realizes how much his reaction could make your day or completely ruin it (just like always), and so, you panic– and when you panic, you ramble. “I know we are technically not supposed to be here– well, me, at least– but I think that being with the owner’s son could make my boss let me off even if he somehow finds out, which I doubt he will, but–”

Sunwoo’s face starts slowly morphing, the slightest of shifts slowly adding up to a change of expression, having the male break out into the biggest, happiest grin you’ve ever seen him sport. His eyes light up and glaze your features in the softest of touches, his head shaking in disbelief. “Oh, you’re adorable.”

“What?” you ask, your heart doing seven somersaults and five cartwheels, eyes a big pool of surprise.

“You did this for me?” he beams, his grin so big and pretty it takes your breath away. Butterfly wings tickle in your stomach at the sight, having you mentally curse yourself– hold it together, Y/N. 

“I- I mean, I didn’t really do anything, we just sneaked in–”

“This is the sweetest thing you’ve ever done for me,” Sunwoo hums, the teasing tone making its comeback in his voice, “actually, this might be the first sweet thing you’ve ever done for me–”

“Well, okay,” you roll your eyes, an embarrassed laugh dragging out of your throat as you turn on your heel and walk closer to the little table in the opposite end of the room, needing to avert your gaze from the boy for at least a second. The air is suddenly too heavy and it’s hard for you to breathe, heat rushing to your cheeks. 

Eyes focusing on the screen in front of you, your brain tries hard to focus on your favorite Christmas movie. Failing, your head running thoughts full of conflicting emotions and erratic exclamation marks screaming the name of the boy behind you, you ask yourself how and when exactly you’ve gotten yourself into this mess.

Maybe you shouldn’t have gotten this job in the first place.

Ears painfully alert, listening to each sound heard in the small projecting room– the shuffling of Sunwoo’s feet as he nears your figure, the muffled noise of the movie playing in the screening room in front of you, the resonance of your own heartbeat in your ears as Sunwoo’s hands suddenly sneak around your middle, your jacket squeaking from the contact of his limbs as he hugs you.

“What–”

“Don’t fight me, Y/N. Just this once,” he hums, voice deep, but still a bit hesitant. It’s like he’s walking on unsteady land, cautious of his movements in fear of making you run away. He’s in a new territory, in your personal space– the scent of his cologne fills your nostrils again as his head settles itself on your shoulder, the two of you silently watching the movie for a few seconds, not really knowing how to proceed.

There’s something intimate in the way he holds you, in the way the movie is a mere background noise to the marathon of your thoughts, the blue light illuminating your faces as you both try your hardest to keep your cool. 

A flashing thought of just how much you from a few months ago would hate the position it’s  in right now passes by your brain, making you instantly feel foolish. Oh how much you’d love it if you stood here unaffected right now– there’s no way to battle the warmth flooding your insides right at this moment, though.

“This is nice,” he mumbles, voice barely louder than a whisper. “Thank you,” he says, your insides squeezing at the sincerity. It’s not often you get to see this side of Sunwoo– the sweet, patient one, the side of him that makes you feel safe in his arms and appreciated with the soft tone in his words. And while you realize you don’t hate the playful side of him just as much as you thought you did, you must admit the novelty of the situation makes you feel a bit more joyful than you’d like to admit.

The weight of his head disappears from your shoulder, making you feel momentarily disappointed by the action. You expect him to pull away and take a seat on the chair, to finally focus on the movie playing in front of your eyes, the thought alone making your spirit fall. The fire in your inside lights up like a match thrown into a pool of gasoline just as fast again, though, when you feel soft lips come in contact with your cheek.

They stay only for a second before they disappear, an airy laugh landing in your ear a second later. “Please don’t run away now,” he says, tone of voice uncertain, telling you that now the ball is in your court– your next actions could either make him the happiest man on Earth, or completely break him. 

The choice is yours.

Your head turns his way, eyes instantly locking with his brown orbs searching for any signs of discomfort in your face. Slowly, as if still processing the events of before, your eyes trail over his features– the awfully handsome way his face was sculpted, the softness of his eyes and the sharpness of his jaw, the slope of his nose and the plushness of his lips. They’re not as chapped today, making you wonder if he started wearing vaseline, and before you get a chance to stop yourself, you start wondering of the way his lips would feel on yours, imagination running wild. 

He heaves out a shaky breath, your eyes darting back into his– as if to ask for approval, see if he’s okay with it. There’s a dazy look in them, gaze pressed to your lips, then to your eyes, then your lips again– a look you take as an invitation as you act against all your best judgment and lean towards him, pressing your mouth against his.

As if testing the waters, you make the kiss short. It was long enough to engrave it into your brain, though– to remember the way his perfectly shaped lips pressed against yours, the way the world stopped just for a moment, the way he tasted of the strawberry mints he always eats at work whenever he has nothing to do. 

Sunwoo seems to find liking in the action– lips glazing yours again, pressing another peck to them before he deepens the kiss, the tingling in your fingertips intensifying and the excitement bubbling in your frame making you turn in your position, front facing him and pressing up against his chest. His hands quickly adjust, slipping under your opened jacket and settling on your clothed waist, the slightest contact making your knees weak and settle your bottom against the table behind you, hands grabbing the fabric of his sweatshirt. 

He pulls back to catch some air, a boyish grin breaking out on his face, forehead knocking against yours in a sweet, giddy manner. “I’ve wanted to do this for months,” he huffs.

The sentiment makes a thousand question marks appear in your head– why did he make your life a living hell, then? Why did he pull pranks on you and make you hate every second spent with him? Why did he make you so furious each time and argued with you about the smallest things? How could Sunwoo possibly have wanted this for months, when you just only started noticing his attractiveness a few weeks ago?

“Why–”

“I’ll tell you later,” he says, cutting you off as he presses his lips against yours again, your mouth automatically welcoming his presence. Brain erased of all previous questions, his kisses working like a spell, you focus all your senses on the man in front of you.

Having your hands feeling up his abdomen, Sunwoo hesitantly asks for entrance with his tongue, running it along your lower lip until you welcome him in. You like this type of power battle much more than the one you had going on until now, and with each new movement, you feel yourself falling apart under him. 

His fingers tug down on the sides of your jacket, pulling it down. You don’t need it anymore– with how heated you’ve gotten, you are actually kind of happy that it is gone. One of his cold hands sneaks under the hem of your jumper, fingertips trailing up and down your side, the other one tugs down the hat from your head, discarding it somewhere on the table behind you before it finds its place on the side of your jaw, angling your head in a way that allows him to deepen the kiss even more, the contact of your lips growing firmer as seconds go by. 

Your scarf is swiftly untangled off your neck, Sunwoo’s skilled lips blindly trailing down the side of your mouth towards your jaw, feathery kisses ticking you before he gets more bold and sucks on the side of your throat, a shaky breath shyly escaping your lips.

“Sunwoo…” you say, tone of voice not really present, no real intention behind the call of his name.

The boy hums against your neck, having you gasp again when he lightly bites the softness of your skin, your hands shooting up to tangle in his hair when he licks the spot to soothe it after. Threading your fingers through his locks to ground yourself, you can’t believe you ever hoped for him to get a trim.

His hands firmly hold the underside of your thighs before he hoists you up on the table, continuing his confident attack on your neck when you’re sitting comfortably on the hard surface. It’s not like you didn’t feel excited, the tiniest bit thrilled at the mental image of his possessive marks all over your throat, but you were glad it was freezing outside and you could wear a turtleneck to hide the bruises from your family tomorrow. He nuzzles his nose into the hot skin of your neck, the action making you grin in ecstasy and endearment.

Getting lost in the way he was handling you, his touches firm, yet delicate, acted out in a way that makes you feel safe and comfortable with his passionate ministrations, you almost don’t notice the door swinging open, the figure of your boss like striking like the lightning in the doorway of the screening room.

“Sunwoo!”

The boy jumps, his body quickly ungluing itself off yours, as he listens to his father scolding him. “I don’t care what you two have going on over here, but you’re on clock! There’s a line waiting for the tickets for tomorrow’s movie and someone has to sell them right now.”

The boy clears his throat, voice a little hoarse. “Coming,” he says, trying to keep his composure. His hair’s a little tousled, cheeks rosy and lips puffed– the image that will haunt you in your sweetest nightmares now– and before you get a chance to say anything or let your brain process the events of the last few minutes, your panic works faster, making you act.

Quickly scattering for your things, you run out of the projecting room without saying goodbye to either Sunwoo or your boss, never once looking back.

You think of what you’ve done on your way home, bones freezing now that they weren’t in his presence. You try hard to regret your actions, but you don’t find it in you to do so– it’s kind of hard with the feeling of his lips still playing with yours.

Even though you’d hate to admit it just a few weeks ago, you must do it now. 

Kim Sunwoo does make a really good kisser.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – PRIDE AND PREJUDICE (2005)

There are many thoughts swimming around your brain as you walk through the coldness of the town the next day, your duffel bag hanging off your shoulder. There’s a conflict between the actions of your body and your thoughts – feet on their journey to the train station, but head stuck in the small projection room of your workplace, your coworker’s kisses occupying your every sober thought.

It’s not surprising, but you haven't heard from Sunwoo since you left the cinema last night. Not a single text or a call– but you figure that this is just your dynamic. Sunwoo’s never been much of a texter when it came to you. He’s never had the reason to text or call you, unless it was work-related, and you think it will stay that way, even though you did make out with him just last night.

Maybe he regretted it. Maybe he just didn’t feel like pondering on the events any longer– maybe it was just a one-time thing for him and he didn’t put much significance to it. You wouldn’t know– it’s not like you’re suddenly an expert on the way he feels and operates. 

You, though? How do you feel about the turn of events? Despite not wanting to admit it to yourself, the answer came to you the second you tried to fall asleep last night, every soaring thought in your brain showing you the reflection of his dazed look, desires of wanting him to look at you that way all the time oh so skilfully infesting themselves into every crevice of your neocortex. You want Sunwoo to like you. You want Sunwoo to want you. You want Sunwoo to be so enchanted with your existence that he thinks about you before he goes to sleep at night– just like you have done for the past few weeks. 

The answer comes to you again when you feel something wet fall on the top of your cheek, making you turn your eyes towards the sky. Your breathing comes out in puffs of air as you watch the magic happen right in front of you– and as you watch the snowflakes scatter all around the place, you are in another inner argument. While the rational side of your brain is screaming at you to keep walking to the station so you don’t miss your train home, the delirious side is cooperating with your feet for once, your figure crossing to the other side of the street and walking over to the place you could get to even with your eyes closed at this point; all because you suddenly remember the conversation you had with Sunwoo when you were putting on ornaments to the Christmas tree.

It’s the first snow of the season. 

Kim Sunwoo loves it when it snows.

Speed-walking towards the vintage movie theater at the corner of the town’s square, you feel something akin to childish excitement bubbling in your insides, a hint of nervousness inviting itself into your insides when you push the door open and aim straight towards the ticket booth, where you know Sunwoo will be sitting, wasting another shift away.

He’s there– eyes pressed towards the window, gaze following the snowflakes kissing the cold ground. You expected more excitement in his character, more childlike joy in his figure– and after taking in his composure: shoulders slouching and fingers picking at the skin of his cuticles, you suddenly feel silly for coming.

Well, here goes nothing, you think.

“Sunwoo,” you call, making the boy snap his head towards you in surprise, big eyes meeting yours the moment he recognises your voice.

You don’t receive a verbal response for a while. The boy just stares at you, a bit hesitant and clueless. His face reminds you of a small puppy trying to take in the new situation in front of it. His lips are formed into a small pout, gears in his brain turning and trying to process the reality of having you standing there, face beaten from the cold.

Clearing your throat, you try to take charge of the situation. “It’s snowing outside,” you say, eyes peering out of the window, all thoughts suddenly escaping your brain, words blanking off your tongue, “and, well… you said you like the snow, so…”

The boy’s mouth hangs agape, a twinkle in his eyes slowly appearing once again when he stares at you, your nervousness doing wonders to your conversation skills. “I- I don’t even know what I wanted to say with that, it’s just- I don’t know… I saw it was snowing and I automatically came here, so-” you stutter, the sentence cutting off as Sunwoo jumps to his feet and grins, wordlessly taking your hand into his and dragging you outside.

The duffel bag falls off your shoulder somewhere in the middle of the hall, discarded to the floor, before Sunwoo sharply halts in his steps and runs back towards the ticket booth, still dragging you with him by the hand. The boy grabs something off the table, the item not visible in your rear point of view, and before you have a chance to register what’s happening, you’re outside of the building again, coldness instantly slapping you in the face.

It’s dark out, but the heaviness of the snow provides enough light in the silent evening for you to see where you’re going under the yellow lampposts on the street. Instantly noticing the lack of Sunwoo’s warm hand in yours when he suddenly lets go, you turn your head to look at the male.

Terror fills your veins when you notice him gathering snow from the ground and pressing it into a tight ball, a screech escaping your throat when you watch him swing it at you, a playful, boyish grin playing with his features. The male chases you around and most of the snowballs don't even hit your running figure (he does have an awful aim), but you still duck anyway and try your hardest to win your snowball fight.

Numb fingers creating snowballs and halting them at his tall frame, but missing most of the time due to his fast reflexes, you laugh and let go of all the worries and questions clouding your judgment. Sunwoo looks enthusiastic, so much more lively than when you found him in the ticket booth just a few minutes ago– but that’s still not enough for you to let him win.

Gathering the icy texture into your hands, you run towards him, taking advantage of his inattention as he’s bent over and taking more snow into his hold, and halt the whiteness into his face just as he straightens his back and wants to prepare for his attack.

More laughter bubbles out of your chest when you watch him drop his snowball to the ground, admitting defeat. The snow is all over his face– slowly running down his cheeks like teardrops, redness tinting his nose and the sides of his face. 

The male shudders from the cold, and you instantly start feeling bad. Only now you realize that he ran out without a coat, a gasp escaping your throat. “Oh god,” you mourn, hands flying towards his frozen face to wipe off the snow from his cheeks, fingers carefully tracing over his cold skin. His eyes open as he watches you, something in his gaze so tender you feel yourself melting even in the middle of the snowstorm.

The male shuffles his hands into the front pocket of his gray hoodie, taking out the item you now recognise to be the hat you accidentally forgot in the projecting room yesterday (and already mentally paid goodbye to), his frozen fingers tugging the fabric onto your head. 

“Why are you putting this on me? You’re the one that’s freezing over here!” you scold him, shaking your head at the male. 

He rewards you with an amused grin, watching your next moves. Acting on auto-pilot, not really putting much thought into your actions, you unzip your jacket and step impossibly near to the male. Holding the jacket open, you hug him around his middle, making sure you are sharing the warmth with him and keeping him as close as possible, shielding him from the cold with both the fabric of your puffer jacket and the heat radiating off your body.

Faces just inches away from each other, you peer at his face. He wears a warm expression, eyes peeking out from behind his dark bangs. Clouds of breath escape his mouth when he speaks, voice quiet, as if to not ruin the atmosphere. “I thought you would regret it,” he says, making you break out into a foolish smile.

“I thought so too,” you nod.

“And you don’t?”

Shrugging, you reply. “Not really.”

“Why?” he asks, suddenly doubtful. “You said you hated me. Which was odd to hear, honestly, since I did all this to get your attention anyway and I thought it was just how our dynamic works, but… I could see how it could be annoying to you…”

Chuckling, you roll your eyes at the sudden revelation. It’s sickeningly sweet how endearing he looks when he doubts himself, explaining himself to you in a nervous blabber. “I don’t hate you. At least not anymore.”

“You don’t?”

“No,” you shake your head, a tender gaze shared between the two of you, “I actually quite like you, I think…” you mumble, a little bashful to admit it out loud.

“You do?” he asks, the twinkle in his eye glimmering twice as much as ever before, tone of voice playful, yet laced with honest joy and surprise at your confession.

“I do,” you nod, voice barely louder than a whisper as you watch him lean closer towards your face, cold nose bumping into yours before he angles his head, breath mixing in with yours in the few seconds before he dares to kiss you again, capturing your lips with his.

The kiss is sweet. The kiss tastes of strawberry mints and the first snow, of unsaid confessions and longing looks sent your way every time you weren’t looking. The kiss makes your stomach fill with a thousand little butterflies, it melts away the ice around you, the two of you like a spark of a fire in the middle of a snowy land. 

His actions have your composure faltering, hands untangling from behind him and moving up to cradle his face. He melts under your touch, leaning into you as your fingers trail over his cheekbones. Holding on to him, thumbs padding his soft skin, you’re reminded of the cold only when he breaks off you and shudders again, teeth clattering from the freezing temperature.

“Let’s get you inside,” you say, planting a short peck to his lips, “before you turn into an icicle,” you giggle, watching as he scrunches up his face.

“I won’t,” he shakes his head, “love warms me up,” he grins, making you roll your eyes at his bold statement.

“You’re so cheesy.”

“But you quite like me anyways, no?”

Sighing, moving away from him and tugging him back inside the cinema, you shake your head at the boy. “I’ll think about it on my train home,” you bite back, opening the door to the theater and aiming towards the duffel bag you dropped on your way out.

Sunwoo watches you with a warm gaze, an adorable smile playing with his lips. His figure seems to be visibly taking in the heat again, his face adorning a flush, pink color. 

“So I take it as you’re not quitting anymore, then?” he teases as you walk back to the door, both of you ignoring the customers waiting for their tickets in the line in front of the forgotten booth.

“We’ll see,” you shrug.

“I’ll text you the schedule for January?”

“You better text me about something else too, Kim Sunwoo,” you bark back, opening the door towards the cold landscape, “or you’re gonna have a very uncomfortable return back to work in January!”

The boy laughs, the noise like a Christmas carol to your ears. “Noted.”

Slipping outside, you watch as he waves at you goodbye, your feet dragging through the snow towards the train station having more pep to their step now. You don’t even know if you can make it to the train on time, but you surprisingly have no regrets– you can always catch the next one, right?

Mentally wanting to slap yourself for the lovesick grin playing with your lips, you sigh. 

The male that once made your life a living hell is now the one you look forward to seeing the most once you come back after Christmas break. It’s kind of strange, really. 

One would think that working with movies on the daily would prepare you better for the biggest plot twist of your life.

[squeakadeeks]

had the thought to compare and contrast difficulty levels for costumes that i've made 👁👁💦 i gave a brief description in the images above, but in the read-more I go more in depth about what it was like working on all of these

Sandalphon: honestly i felt like the sewing parts of this one were the hardest. I didnt have to do too much tailoring other than following my usual pattern and slapping foam accents on top. the wing assembly also went smoothly bc i managed to use large surface areas of velcro, that being said i really wish i had put more effort into the wings and made them look nicer. to me they look really flat and...blah. the foam feathers needed more detail.

Lif: lif was hard but shockingly not as bad as one might assume? mostly my standards were really high but the engineering for him wasnt too crazy. Casting the transparent worbla was a NIGHTMARE but it was frustrating more than hard if that makes sense. there were a few armor pieces like his bracers I had to make several times over, but what made him difficult was making sure each armor piece looked really polished and overlaying everything. i think i had maybe a rage-quit or two but not a crazy amount.

Corrin: speaking of rage quits man corrin was probably the hardest armor for me, mostly bc he was maybe the 3-4th armor set i had made and he was entirely vinyl wrapped, which was new to me. I almost quit this project like 4 times. what made it hard was overlaying all the armor pieces and getting a good, flattering fit while also achieving smooth vinyl wraps.

Alfonse: I've only alluded to this but i actually made alfonse to cope with my extreme depressive episode in 2019 where i had daily Unaliving thoughts and my coping strategy was "everytime i want to Do That, get up and work on alfonse" and then boom alfonse got made. my memory of that project is hazy, but i know i worked like an absolute madman on him, but the details are eehehehhehhehhhhhh. i remember it being really hard and i had to remake most pieces on him several times (i know i was up to 6 attempts on his shoulder)

Hypnos: I made hypnos after a string of armor projects and jumping into chiffon was a challenge, i also had to learn french seams and all that and it suuuuucked. His blanket was also really hard to work on bc it was so large, fitting it into my maschine was a struggle and even small changes took large amounts of time bc of the scale. I also wanted him to have the highest polish of any recent project so i went bananas making sure everything turned out as perfect as possible. it was hard!! but breaking down his costume into individual parts helped.

Robin: oops im writing an essay so i'll keep this short, the hardest part of robin was figuring out how to effectively have "glowing lights" with no obvious source on my torso. the concepting stage took about a week of fiddling with LEDs, but once i had a plan making him wasnt super bad. the hardest part was his jacket just bc i used pleather and it was hard to finangle.

Nekomancer: TBH he was i think the easiest project ive made in recent years? the capelet posed the biggest challenge, but other than that it was a pretty friendly project (the broom was also hard, but i struggle with props unilaterally so hmmm)

Kaworu: Kaworu was like..."hard easy" if that makes sense. what made him hard is there's virtually 0 margin for error on plugsuits so everything has to be executed perfectly which is hhhhaaaard. vinyl wrapping his armor was tough. I also messed up on the patterning (the ribs should be much smaller) and that haunts me.

---

Padparadscha: looking back padpa was harder than i remembered, like not just tailoring a 12 paneled bodice and figuring out the wig, but im also recalling how difficult fabric matching was. Getting a perfect pale gold with the right balance of sparkle that also contrasted nicely with the ivory sateen took a lot of trial and error. padpa was hella hard, but i do wish the end result looked better -_-

Phos: wow almost the same situation, tailoring the bodysuit was hard (im not at all happy with how it turned out) it wasnt as crazy as padpas, but still turned out worse oopswhoops....fabric matching was much harder here since i had a super clear vision for what i wanted the moon outfit to look like, i had to layer 5 different types of tulle and organza to get the look 👀 and the wig was difficult bc the vinyl i got was harder to work with (making sure it curled and curved took a lot of effort)

Karna: KARNA IS THE HARDEST PROJECT IVE EVER DONE D: people always think its lif but nah...it was karna. karna had so so so many armor parts, and they all had to be clear, clean and polished. similar to a plugsuit, i felt like there was no margin for error and with his design there was little to no ability to hide flaws AND his attachments make no sense. he took a month and a half of daily work and im still iffy on his end result. the armor had to be super form fitted, the bodysuit had to be perfectly flattering to fit his stupid betty spagetti ass frame, the wig was hard, the cape was hard, he was hhhhhhaaaarrddddd

i might write the other ones later rn im tired and i got an exam to study for girl help

[blazehedgehog]

What are your thoughts on project P6?

Ironically, I just streamed this to a friend on Discord the other night, because he'd never seen it before, so it's fresh in my mind again.

I like it. I was harsh on it at first, but as ChaosX kept updating and polishing Project 06, I started to warm up to a lot of it.

There are parts of it that are hard to "fix," though. Like it really puts in to stark contrast what a bad level White Acropolis is. Almost every aspect of it is hard to redeem. Even with better controls and physics, the snowboarding segment is too fiddly. You bump in to one thing during the snowball chase and it's over. And it has to be that way! The snowball has to be a threat!

And then there's Tropical Jungle. That's not a great level, either. Too easy to fall to your death. You miss time a vine swing, you slip off the edge of a log by accident, all kinds of weird sensitive stuff can kill you unexpectedly, and it's not a very fun level to move through and explore. It's dense and narrow and weird.

Shadow's campaign also isn't super enjoyable to me. There's a stark increase in difficulty, and now that Sonic's gameplay feels WAY better, Shadow's mashy melee combat feels kind of boring and lame. Same goes for the increased focus on vehicles -- whereas before getting in Shadow's motorcycle felt thrilling because you were nearly invincible, now it feels scary because it's a step down from the regular game controls and you take damage a lot more often.

And the glider and hovercar segments... yikes.

If you're focused on accurately representing Sonic 06, these are the things that probably can't be fixed. Not without pulling them out and replace it with something totally new, at which point it's not Sonic 06 anymore.

But much like an official Sonic game, it's easy to just replay the parts you like and ignore the things that are less-than-great. Radical Train is pretty cool. Crisis City is pretty cool. Wave Ocean is nice. I've even started to turn a little on Flame Core.

And, wow, giving Omega a first person mode is straight up genius.

I'm really anticipating what's next. I get the vibe that ChaosX is struggling with burnout, probably because he worked SO dang hard on this remake. He ported like 50% of an entire game in like two or three years. And not just porting it, he improved upon it significantly. That's a lot of work and I respect it. I'd love to see more, I'd love to see it a complete remake of the entire game, but I understand if he some day announces he's going to move on after just getting all the levels and characters in.

What's here is already a herculean effort, as far as I'm concerned.

[thebmatt]

Old Man Franks

I wanted to tell you all the history of the character of Old Man Franks

He started out as a voice I’d use when I called in to one of my favorite podcasts, Extralife Radio. The first time I did it, I called their voicemail line and pretended to be an old man that would try to do a promo for the show, but get the name wrong a few times (each time referencing another meme within the show itself) and end it with “awww durnit!” 

I realized as I was starting the recording that I didn’t have a name in mind. Franks was the first thing that popped into my head.

The hosts loved it and so I kept doing it. Every week I’d call and leave a voice memo with SOMETHING. Sometimes I’d sing songs, sometimes I’d make fun of something a host said, all kinds of things. It got somewhat popular. I expanded to occasionally playing the character on a few of the main hosts other shows as well.

Eventually, during World of Warcraft’s burning crusade expansion, he decides to form a WoW fanguild. Since my own guild at the time was...somewhat dead, I moved an alt over there, under the name Oldmanfranks. I think it was a tauren druid. Not really a lore appropriate name, heh. 

That guild soon very quickly became my home in the game. I tried checking in on my old server to see if anyone was ever coming back, no one did. Eventually I moved my main and a couple other alts over and that was it. I was part of this community forever. 

Eventually, I moved the name over to my warlock alt, and changed him to an undead and thus the canon character of Old Man Franks was born. Over time I refined his backstory to be essentially what he tells to Y’shtola in Prompt 17. With the exception of most of Mists of Pandaria, I never play him as a main (because I preferred mage to warlock, and always ended up coming back to it), but he’s almost always been my most active alt. 

Anyway, during the time of Wrath of the Lich King, I reconnected with an old friend who eventually became my girlfriend, and it became very clear pretty fast to both of us that she was going to become my wife. So she joins the community and jokingly refers to herself as Old Lady Franks. She’s always thought this whole thing was great and was happy to join in on it. She even made an undead lady mage with the name, and we concocted backstories together. 

I jumped into FFXIV hardcore during the final 1-2 patches of Stormblood, and very quickly realized that it had a lot of what I’d been wanting from WoW that I felt had been lacking. This time around, I made Oldman Franks as my main, but he initially started life as a Roegadyn arcanist

However, though my WoW community that I’d been part of for years had a chapter in XIV that had existed since ARR, I opted to play with some other friends that I’d met in a twitch chat. 

I did make an alt in my original community though, Dahkar Darkspear. He was actually named after my troll mage main that I’d had since the days of Vanilla WoW. 

Initially their backstories were the same. They both originated in Azeroth, jumped through a weird portal that put them into another universe, and said universe altered their forms because undead and trolls didn’t exist there (this was before I knew about the zombies in the Hildibrand questline)

However, one day I saw the two fantasia I got from ARR’s completion and the old Veteran’s rewards program in Dahkar’s inventory, so I challenged myself to change him to another race that I’d normally never consider playing and to see if I could last a month before changing him back. I ended up picking female Miqo’te. 

Aaaand I ended up liking that character a lot. Enough that I’m like “Welp, we’re gonna make another alt of her when the month is over and give her a backstory and then we’re just gonna make them all have a shared story, aren’t we?”

By this point I’d gotten pretty into reading stories from the FFXIV fic crowd, and I wanted to join in with creating my own headcanons.

Somewhere in there I also changed OMF to a highlander Hyur (and inadvertently made him look like a near-clone of Godbert Manderville), so together with Dahkar, the Miqo’te who I named Rheika, and a new Roegadyn character, this time a lady named Fearless WIllow, my own headcanon was born. 

All of the above screenshots are the first ones I have of each of my characters. Neat, eh?

Anyway, right now Dahkar doesn’t actually exist in-game, given that the character was fantasia’d to become Rheika. I would like to someday remake him, but I don’t have time to play another character through the MSQ, and my need to complete things would drive me to do so, so for now he’s a future plan, but still one that canonically exists in my writing. 

My wife, meanwhile, has drifted in and out of WoW, but hasn’t really had the drive to play FFXIV (she’s also been busy with a new job lately) but she’s still happy to bounce story ideas off of me, and the recent set of stories that I’ve done for Write 2021 were borne out of that effort (as was us FINALLY settling on the canon names of Aleister and Gwenefyr.) I sent prompt 20 to her after I posted it, and she called it “perfection”. Will she ever make the lovely Viera? I don’t know, but I do hope so, someday. 

Hope you all enjoyed reading this!

[sonic-colours]

hello there i just started following you and i truly LOVE how you draw sonic.exe.... tonight i randomly watched a remake of the sonic.exe fangame from like 2012 that i ended up having access to when i was really young and GOD the memories... so i wanted to see if anyone actually payed attention to this stuff bc sonic.exe is my special interest... and then i saw how u draw him and WOW... love ur art expect a lot of interactions from me

OGHH HII!! IM GLAD U LIKE HIM OMG... which one did u watch was it the pc port remake?? i love that one sm theres so much effort put into it for a sonic.exe game!! personally i wanna get more into sonic.exe nightmare beginning !!

[nothingunrealistic]

naturally was going "hmm what kind of fins (fish) would young taylor in the bathtub wish for. how would we know what they think would be the best fish tail to have" & then was just thinking of Younger Taylor Hcs just in general. got any you'd wanna share, or like, any faves from what's been provided either as unofficial ideas or via those glimpses of info in the show's text. Fave can be in a "truly enjoy this" way & or simply more of a "truly Thinking About This An Extra Lot" sense lol. They

Boy Do I… first, a listing of everything we Know from canon about their childhood / early life / family:

taylor grew up in “a place like” connerty’s small apartment where “the heat pipes bang practically all night” in the winter [2x11]

taylor’s mom would deem the apartment they rented for her & douglas too expensive, and if she & douglas were shopping for furniture, they’d argue about how much things cost [4x07]

taylor never thought they’d be thinking about living a life where they book private jets [2x09]

the masons’ home is hundreds of miles from any body of water (as shown here) and douglas had to fly to nyc to see taylor [4x03]

douglas figures taylor’s mom won’t miss him getting in her way back home [4x03]

taylor has a sister; when she gets married, in michigan, taylor is part of the wedding party [2x09]

at a young age, taylor was always measuring information around them, and sweet / affectionate, especially toward douglas [4x03]

taylor’s favorite cereal as a kid was frosted flakes [4x09]

taylor was never really douglas’s “little girl” like he claims [4x03]

the first time douglas brought taylor to his lab, it meant a lot to them, and the next day they gave him designs to remake it [4x06]

douglas taught taylor: “don’t just have an idea, build the model that proves it” [4x07]

according to douglas, taylor gets the “unyielding compulsion to get it right” from him, and their relationship was best when they “kept things mathematical” [4x03]

douglas wishes he could have built real wealth / success and given it all to taylor [4x03]

wendy mentions to taylor that douglas has “exploited your need for his approval,” and taylor agrees that douglas only cares about his own advancement rather than being a father first [4x07]

douglas dislikes the military / the government [4x06]

taylor is surprised by douglas quoting a pop song [4x07]

when taylor was younger, the bathtub was the only place they could go to be alone and think, and they’d press their legs against the sides hard enough to make them go numb [3x11]

taylor started playing online poker at age 12 under the screen name ZackCody892 and played up to 16 tables at a time (and for thousands of hours) [2x03]

douglas was fired from his job at an aerospace firm when taylor was in 7th grade. this firing damaged their relationship with him and “affected the home life.” for years, taylor thought douglas had been fired so that the firm could steal his invention, and only found out the truth from his personnel file [2x11, 4x05, 4x06]

taylor has had 927 hours of therapy prior to their session with dr. gus, and that number hasn’t changed at their first session with wendy [2x03, 2x08]

douglas, in bringing taylor food and coffee, claims they rarely take the time to look after themself [4x04]

taylor used to lie to themself and others but is now past that, and knows “how hard it is to have things inside you that you can’t communicate” and “what it’s like to face public scrutiny over who you are” [2x08, 3x02, 4x04]

when taylor reminds douglas about their pronouns, he says “this talk again?”, implying it’s a discussion they’ve had before [4x03]

taylor once got into a bar fight with a high school classmate (it’s unclear whether they were still in high school at the time) after seeing y tu mamá también in a theater [5x07]

taylor was active in occupy wall street in college [2x10]

taylor played poker in college against classmates, grad students, & professors, but their opponents kicked them out for winning too much; additionally, the competitive aspect made them sick (described as “malaise” or “vertigo-like symptoms”) [2x03, 4x12]

taylor planned to go to chicago for grad school and study with eugene fama [2x02]

mafee picked taylor as his intern because they were the only applicant who wasn’t boring / didn’t care about the same bullshit that everyone from wharton or harvard did [5x04]

douglas initiated the visit to taylor, claiming it was because he’d missed them, after not being ready to see them even though taylor’s mother wanted to visit countless times [4x03, 4x07]

taylor is trying to be “everything to their father” in funding his company, and neither of them will be able to come back from taylor being forced to betray him [4x06, 4x07]

wow that’s a long list. and now, my own thoughts and extrapolations:

taylor grew up somewhere in the west / midwest with their parents and sister, who’s a few years older than them, in a house small enough that they had to share a bedroom with her. hence, needing to hide out in the bathtub to get any space & time alone.

from very early on, taylor was douglas’s favorite child and he was their favorite parent — douglas saw taylor’s intelligence & insight (and saw himself in them) and chose to put time & effort into teaching / guiding / molding them, hoping they’d one day follow in his footsteps / support his ambitions, and taylor liked that attention & recognition. (douglas’s attitude toward taylor’s sister is essentially “well she’s here too i guess.”)

douglas taught taylor enough about aerospace engineering & mathematics for them to understand the value of his lattice fin concept, and to generally have a better grasp of engineering concepts than your average (even very well-read) business major / financier. (remember how rebecca knew a robot’s “proprietary” power source was a combustion engine because her father was a mechanic? same deal here. see also: the “smash electronics apart to find the microchips inside and figure out who makes them” strategy; taylor comparing losing grigor’s money to building a turbo engine and having the nitrous tank blow up in their face.) this manifested in both directly teaching them in his lab and in playing games like the silverware-stacking game we see in 4x03, or like douglas throwing out math problems for taylor to solve on the spot, or the two of them solving math problems together.

douglas also imparted his taste in music (which does not include anything new / popular) to taylor, though their taste as an adult (or even as, like, a teenager) isn’t identical to his. this is how they discovered rush in the first place and why they have such strong opinions about The Best Rush Albums. (if douglas had such a ranking, it’d be closer to axe’s than to taylor’s.)

listening to rush helped make taylor a libertarian 😔 that’s just life when you’re a neil peart stan, which of course they are. they admire his lyrics + his drumming talent + his absolute poker face in performances.

douglas also taught taylor to play blackjack, which inspired them to go and learn poker on their own and start playing online. they tried to keep it a secret, but it's hard to be secretive about spending hours a day playing online poker on the family computer. (this is 2006 or so, after all.)

taylor figured out that they were Not A Girl (or at least had thoughts of “hm i don’t enjoy being addressed / perceived as A Girl”) fairly young but didn’t acquire a concrete vocabulary for / specific understanding of that for some time. (if douglas is calling they/them pronouns “that woke stuff” in 2019, he sure wasn’t saying anything clear or favorable about trans people in 2009 or 1999. ditto for online poker sites.)

douglas’s firing exacerbated every negative aspect of the mason family dynamic. he doubled down on pushing taylor toward his field, urging them to succeed where he’d failed, and warning them against letting anyone Steal Their Value. money got tighter, taylor’s parents argued more, and any activities taylor was in (like, say, swimming at the ymca) that required payment got cut; they may have figured out how to make money (illegally!) from online poker at this point. the combined stress of financial instability, being torn between pursuing their own ambitions and fulfilling douglas’s expectations for them, and increasing Gendered Expectations in general — plus the whole “playing online poker for hours a day” thing — probably put taylor in therapy within a few months, if they weren’t in therapy already. (how did their parents pay for it? i don’t know either.)

stealing this from that interview asia & brian & david did in 2017: if taylor had not already taught themself to think and speak directly & incisively and look people in the eye when they talk, et cetera, it started here, whether in therapy or on their own time.

taylor went to college in new york city. douglas did not want them to do this, for a number of reasons, and would have preferred they stick closer to home (and study something other than finance), but doing so would have made them miserable.

by the time they finished high school (circa 2012), taylor had properly heard of trans people and figured that they were somehow One Of Them, but not until college did they hear of people being nonbinary and go “ohhhh yeah that’s me.” (they’d also gotten a Short Haircut in high school, but didn’t go full buzzcut until college. unsurprisingly, they got some shit in high school for being Visibly gnc.)

for some period of time while figuring out their gender situation, taylor went by the name neil as a nod to neil peart. (it’s fun to imagine that they still have a faceless twitter / tumblr account where they go by neil. doubles as a way to prevent anyone connecting it to their real life.)

taylor came out to their family while in college. their mom and sister had fairly similar reactions of “well i don’t Get this exactly, but i love you and want to support you and i’m sure you know what you're talking about better than i do and you did clearly hate it every time i urged you to conform to Standards Of Womanhood so sure i can call you Them and my [child / sibling] :)” given some time to think about it. douglas… well. if he’s starting from a place of “i don’t get this,” he’ll end up at “so it must be wrong and stupid, because i’m always right,” especially if This = his favorite child being different in some significant way from who / what he thought they were. obviously he doesn’t react well or supportively, and the strain in his relationship with taylor tips over into full-blown estrangement. bad times for everyone.

if taylor’s bar fight happened when they were old enough to legally enter a bar, it happened after coming out to their family (also after the live poker fiasco), and before making plans for grad school / internships. most likely it was on a summer break they were spending back in their hometown. (another fun thought: taylor seeing the video of axe punching a guy, just weeks after they punched a guy, and going “well maybe i should work for him.”)

if douglas was at taylor’s sister’s wedding (and maybe he wasn’t!), it was awkward for everyone when he and taylor crossed paths again. barest of pleasantries, passive-aggressive comments, et cetera. naturally, it took a few more years — and douglas realizing that taylor, now being fairly wealthy and successful, could probably fund his dream project if they didn’t hate him — for him to decide to visit them.

[allgirlsareprincesses]

I would like the salt on BatB 2017 if you would like to share 👀

Okay but.... let's just be clear that it's GROSSLY unfair because I haven't seen the whole movie, just a scene here and there. I am genuinely not interested in it for reasons listed below.

First off, I'm biased against all Disney live-action remakes on principle because they rely slavishly on references and callbacks to push the nostalgia button. They are, generally, afraid to depart too much from the original, except in ways in which they transparently attempt to shoehorn in "woke" moments. The whole effort is incredibly cynical and inauthentic, and the biggest problem with all of this is that these are often timeless stories which have SO MUCH POTENTIAL and can be told in so many ways, so WHY would they adhere so closely to one adaptation??? Further, when the movies are THIS similar, the remake can't help but suffer by comparison because it actually relies on familiarity with the original for its appeal in the first place. It's completely derivative from the beginning.

My feelings about this apply to all of the Disney remakes so far (that I've seen) with only one exception, and that's Kenneth Branagh's Cinderella. The reason that one works is because it does what none of the rest of them do, and that's adapt the Cinderella fairy tale instead of the Cinderella Disney movie. Yes, there are a few references, but the movie clearly stands on its own as a Cinderella story. You might never have seen the 1940s animated Cinderella, but you could enjoy the 2015 version and not feel you were missing anything. Even the iconic songs are replaced with one simple lullaby. Branagh just went out there and made his own Cinderella movie and it's a modern classic, IMO.

So, back to BATB 2017. The 1991 animated film was nominated for Best Picture that year, the first animated film ever to be so honored, and it went on to be adapted for a very successful Broadway show. So already while the live-action version had a high bar to live up to, it also had a lot of great material to draw from in the stage show. But then for some reason.... it just copies the animated movie, song-for-song, sometimes shot-for-shot. And.... the shots in the original are lovely, but they are the way they are BECAUSE of the medium. The storyboard artists in the 80s and 90s (specifically Chris Sanders and Brenda Chapman) were mostly animators before they were film directors. They composed shots for 2D animation. Working with a live-action set is VERY different, and things don't translate exactly. Something that is a stunning graphic in 2D can look cheap on film.

One of the ways that this problem shows up is in Belle's iconic golden dress (AND YES IT'S GOLD NOT YELLOW DON'T @ ME). I know most Tumblr folks are younger than I am, so let me just tell you that when I saw this movie in theaters in 1991, the whole audience went "Oooooooooo...." when Belle appeared in her ballgown at the top of the stairs. Like a loud, audible sigh. I can hear it in my mind right now. That image left audiences breathless. Emma's dress? Yeah, not so much. I mean, firstly, again, the yellow of the animated film is cartoon shorthand for gold, especially since you can also see they animated a shine onto the gown. Not that I think the live-action gown should have been lamé or anything but you can see from Cinderella 2015 that it's possible to make a gown appear to shine and sparkle without looking cheap. Then there's the boring neckline and lack of sleeves. I mean.... it's a prom dress silhouette??? Nothing about this screams FAIRY TALE PRINCESS to me. And of course much has been written about Emma's fEmInIsT refusal to wear a corset. And yes, I think they went too far with Lily's corset in Cinderella and that was not cool, but the fact of the matter is that corsets are what give period gowns their distinctive shape. And corsets are implied in the silhouettes of the animated films these new movies are based off of. So without it, and lacking anything else to give it the WOW-factor of the original, this dress is just visually dull at what is supposed to be the most romantic moment of the movie. Fairy tale fail.

Then, Emma's voice. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, but I'm not a musically-skilled person AT ALL and even I cringe at the obvious auto-tuning. Whyyyyyy? I mean, first off, why did they even have to have the songs in this movie? Cinderella already proved that's not necessary. Second, if they WERE going to put the songs in the movie, why not hire the most talented singers they could, or give them all plenty of voice-training before filming? Because they MIGHT have gotten away with Emma's singing if the rest of the cast had been on her level, but when you have Luke Evans out there just BRINGING THE HEAT, and when you remember what the original with Paige O'Hara sounds like, poor Emma can't help but suffer by comparison. And then to auto-tune her is to just make even more obvious that her performance wasn't up to the standard they felt they needed. It's just uncomfortable. Further, auto-tuning loses the imperfections that actually carry most of the ACTING in a vocal performance, so it actually flattens the emotion of the song. This of course defeats the whole purpose of a song in film, which is to express emotions so strong that dialogue is not enough.

I have some other quibbles but those get into parts of the film that I honestly haven't seen, so I'll abstain. But let's just say that my main problem with BATB 2017 is that it didn't attempt to be an original retelling of Beauty & The Beast, and that's a shame because I think that could have been amazing. I might be in the minority but I truly enjoy the 2014 French film with Lea Seydoux, if only for the aesthetic.

I've really given up on Disney at this point. Right now they are just a nostalgia factory that keeps repackaging the same thing over and over. To me, the magic is gone.

[themelodicenigma]

FF7R Localization

Wow. This is getting ridiculous. All the people screaming at Square Enix NA for the localization/translations of FFVII Remake—you really should stop and think about what perspective you have at this moment. I understand though, really, and I’ll express why further down, but seeing the rationalization at the heart of these criticisms is making it difficult to not be frustrated at the fandom’s behavior.

A lot of you are really showing you haven’t spent the time understanding the localization/translation process that takes place within the company. Not to mention, that you refuse to listen to what the people who are officially involved with the game are telling you. This process in question directly involves the localization team internally in Tokyo at Square Enix Japan. A process that is accomplished alongside the developers and staff directly involved with the project in Japan. The recording sessions where people are physically location-wise isn’t one unified place, nor might be those who are outsourced to be a part of the process, but communication and involvement is retained through this process across the world. There are a myriad of paratext that describe this process that Square Enix has done for many different projects—Kitase talked about this for FFXIII, Nomura talked about it for KH3, and now Ben Sabin talks about it in multiple interviews for FFVIIR (here and here, go nuts). Ultimania interviews also typically cover it as well, the Asako Suga (Supervising Dialogue Editor for most KH games) interview in the KH3 Ultimania is a very good one as well. Honeywood, who was responsible for beginning the steps to a better localization process after the OG FFVII, left the company with a good foundation here for what they do and how it’s achieved.

Differences based on the team, circumstances, and even those outsourced to assist should be considered for every project SE does, but the overall approach to localization/translation is done about the same way. Has been for years now, with the changeup being in what is affected by the goal of either closer or simultaneous releases between the different languages, especially ENG and JPN. It’s a joint effort and everyone is on the same side—if you have a complaint about how something was handled in the game, this isn’t the sole responsibility and accountability of one person or one division of the company. The localization team are still people who work on the game, the final product we receive, directly and deserve more recognition than being treated like outsiders to, what could be considered, the primary developers.

But, that’s even if the issues at hand are actually issues to begin with.

It’s absolutely okay if you don’t like the way a localization turned out, that’s totally fair to not be satisfied. If a fan’s mindset behind translation/localization is to get the same experience of that of the original language, then I can’t blame you for such a goal—if anything I feel the same way, and objectively that’s a good goal to have. Additionally, it’s also fair to even have a preference between any of them, and I definitely encourage learning and understanding whatever the primary language is for a game.

However, I would implore you to also understand that this goal, through the effort and agreement of those creating the game, can be met in different ways, and analogous to that, a translation can be expressed in a multitude of ways within a context. There is an allowance of flexibility to capture the context in whatever way they see fit—and if it has a different approach or wording than the original, that does not make it “wrong” or a “mistranslation”. This type of thinking is very limited in how translation/localization works, especially for a creative project, and it fails to acknowledge the multitude of ways in which something can be said, and how contextual elements can influence the expression that can be made. There’s a difference between being wrong on a translation level by the book and being wrong contextually. It certainly can happen both ways, but often, fans will complain of things that aren’t contextually “wrong” to a consequential degree and that were intended to be the way it was in the target language.

I mean jeez, it’s all too typical that to a fan who has engaged in heated, and probably nonsensical, debate of LTD shit for 20 years would want to look at the differences through the lens of this offense. I’ve seen the same shit before in other fandoms and it’s stupidly petty.

Was it written for Olette to say “What a romantic story!” because the localization team are “Sokai” shippers? Or, is it because they saw the opportunity to add a more direct connotation to Olette’s response to Kairi telling her about Sora? You know, the person she literally has romantic storytelling with?

And for the hot topic, was Aerith’s lines in the train graveyard of claiming Cloud as her bodyguard there to preserve some apparent self-indulgent need to be “Clerith fans”? Or, was it done to express that light part of Aerith’s character in this situation where both other people are clearly much more tense? With a line of dialogue that characteristically match what she is physically doing?

“Context” is multiple and broad in meaning. The context of the circumstance and the responses by either characters did not change in either the JPN and ENG version, but there was however a different approach to their lines that emphasized a certain connotation that already fits other elements of the context of the scene. It really isn’t an issue objectively or false in nature, and there’s no means in which you can say it’s not intended to be what it is when the people with the authority of working directly on the project collaborated with the very same people you’re saying it goes against. It’s made, finalized, and meant to be what it is by decision.

C’mon, if you’re actually comprehending the multitude of resources that describe the localization process SE as a whole does for their games, knowing this is done with cooperation with the developers and those who can even fluently speak ENG and JPN who are on the development team [e.g. Yasue for KH3]—how can you truly have the audacity to say that something isn’t intended for how it was written in the target language? Really. Now there are certainly mistakes and contradictions that can be pointed out that actually DO change context and affect the understanding of the game’s world—FFXIII being the example for lore concepts—but people going line by line and pointing out the most inconsequential differences, things that don’t actually change the context of the scene or contradict all pertaining elements/persons involved....

Wow. Let’s talk about the actual mistakes that matter for understanding the story and not a line of dialogue that hits your personal nerve regarding shipping.

Wanting the game’s localization/translation to be as close to the original language [specifically, the primary language of those creating it] isn’t a problem, but the behavior and rational I’m seeing that treats this process by the lens of the LTD definitely is. Not to mention, the lack of understanding that the above goal can be met on a contextual level that has every right to be additive in whatever way the official team who produce these games see fit in the chosen language. The FFVII fandom really needs to stop treating everything as some conspiracy and mal-intent to give a false version of a game that everyone’s, including the development staff, efforts have been put into. This commentary that SE NA are the ones to blame, that there is even blame deserved to be had, and that the translation approached wasn’t intended by all parties involved in the process—how about we wait until someone from the development team somehow reveals that the localization managers rebelled against everything they worked on together and the end result was different than expected.

Otherwise, @-ing at Square Enix NA about how their creative team has an “LTD agenda” and are “Clerith-biased” is not going to be a good look for you in their eyes.

[ohholyfanfics]

Cherries & A Little Loving| Tom Holland

The First Date & Cherry Jars

Based off this prompt request here: Cherries

Note by Ellie: Part two maybe, I have another draft which is a continuation of this thats like another 3.4k words in. But anyways I hope you guys enjoyed and I tagged everyone who asked for a part too. Also much thanks to @oyesmendes​ for their support in getting me to finish this today.

His heart was beating a little quicker than usual as he moved in record speed. After practically begging for the night off, and much to Harrison’s dismay Tom wish was granted. He had been sweeping and vacuuming the whole flat for the past four hours, it was safe to say Harrison was getting light-headed with the smell of bleach and some wired scented candle Tom had purchased a bit too much off.

“Mate, she’s only gonna be over for a few hours..” Harrison reminded him as Tom sent him a glare while he pulled a couple of jars of maraschino cherries from a reusable bag. The blond’s eye widened before a loud laugh filled the small kitchen.

The brunette couldn’t help the fluttering feeling spreading through his body, he knew she was joking back the other night. Yet a certain part of him truly wanted to wow her, and he had spent his free time looking up the most romantic but super low key ways truly impressing a bird you fancied. So far he thought he was doing okay, and having Harrison laughing at his attempt truly wasn’t doing any good.

“Seriously mate..” he mumbled picking up a jar and turning it over reading the label. It was the same ones Steve always bought at the bar, the same ones that she had taken a liken too. “You must really like her huh?”

Tom shrugged his shoulders as he pulled a few more ingredients from the bag. As much as he wanted to wow her with his amazing skills, the truth was there wasn’t really a lot he could do in the kitchen. So he did the one thing he could do, he picked something he was decent at and decided that shrimp tacos were the way to go. He also, may or may not have tested a different recipe almost every day and brought it to his co-works for their thoughts and opinions.

“I just want to impress her is all, kinda wanna make up for all the shit date she’s been on.”

“She already likes ya mate.”

“It doesn’t hurt to put in a little effort Harrison.” he hummed while pulling out a cutting board placing the fresh shrimp on it. “plus I’m kinda hoping this would actually lead to something more.”

By the time she was set to arrive Tom had everything prepared, and he was freshly showered. After a few changes of outfits and messing with his hair in the mirror he had decided comfort was best, the last thing he needed was to look like he was trying too hard. When a soft knock was heard at the door, he had just finished filling a tiny little plate with the cherries. He couldn’t help but stop at the little mirror in the hallway giving himself a once over before finally opening the door.

Tom swore right then and there that God had personally sent down a choir of angels to sing when he opened the door. Her smile was blinding and she looked perfect beyond comparison. Her legs were covered in black ripped jeans as her torso was covered with a light pink sweater. Her makeup done similarly to the night of her awful date, and her hair was left in a tight bun.

“Um Hey.” He breathed out as she giggled softly leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

“Hey, oh wow, it smells lovely in here.”

His cheeks flushed as he closed the door behind her, he watched as she neatly placed her shoes beside him and a warm feeling rushed through him. It felt all so perfect almost as if that spot was meant for her.

“Um thinks..” he breathed out as his cheeks flushed. Truth was, everything kinda went south after he hopped out of the shower. After accidentally knocking over the filling for the tacos, he knew there wasn’t enough time to even try and remake more. Naturally, after a few curses and a quick clean up, he decided pizza was definitely the best way to go.

Way to go mate.

“I hope you don’t mind but I ordered us pizza.” He sighed softly with a soft frown. His hands were a sweaty mess as she looked at him. “I had this whole taco night thing planned out but I acciden-“

“Hey, it’s fine really,” she mumbled with a soft smile. Her right hand rested on his lower arm as she gently rubbed the spot causing a wave of fire to shoot through him. “you didn’t have to do all that Tom really.” 

“I just, I want you to have fun tonight.”

“Tom, I couldn’t literally be sitting at the bar watching you make drinks and get people pints and I would still be having fun.”

“You don’t have to say that.” he flushed as she giggled softly.

“I don’t have too but I mean it.” she nodded as his cheeks flushed. There she was standing before him, literally stating that she didn’t give a flying fuck about what they did. She honestly just admitted that she enjoyed being with him, she enjoyed his company and that right there was more than enough. 

“But I did get you something.”

Walking back into the room with a plate of cherries, her whole body became fuzzy and light. Her heart rate increased as he stood before her, the bright red treats making her eyes water as a soft giggle escaped her lips.

“You really know how to wow a girl.” she stated before she looked around at the small flat and an idea came to mind. “do happen to have flour? Cheese, ya know basic pizza ingredients?”

His smile widens seeing where and what she was trying to do. Her hands were gripping his own as her eyes held a twinkle in them that had him begging for air, and his whole world spinning. He hated to admit it by Harrison was right, he could’ve gone out to some fancy place ordered take out and she still wouldn’t care. After all, she had just admitted that she enjoyed being in his presence and that right there was enough to ease some of the nerves he was feeling that night.

“Yeah, I think we do.”

“Then let's get a cooking chief Tom.”

His eyes were loving as they watched her read the instructions out to her. Tom had managed to pull all of the basic ingredients needed out as they stood beside each other, her hands rested on her hips as she started to measure the ingredients while he carefully watched with a soft smile and a look in his eyes that one would describe as love.

“Have you ever done this before?”

She stopped measuring the yeast as she looked at him with a soft smile and a slow nod of her. Her breathing controlled and relaxed as she went back to measure and pouring everything in the bowl he set out for her.

“My brother and his best friend are both in the restaurant business, so pizza nights were a huge thing growing up.”

“You have an older brother?”

“Three brothers actually, I’m the only girl,” she stated as he raised an eyebrow.

“Should I be worried?”

“Not unless your plan on hurting me to a point of no return.” She teased bumping her hips with his. He rolled his eyes taken the bowl from her. “what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Ever made pizza? Do you have any siblings?” She asked watching as he mixed together the things in the bowl before letting it rest.

“I mean we’ve bought the pre-made dough before if that counts..” he chuckled looking back at the bowl and back to her. She nodded her head telling him it was fine.

“Just gotta wait till it gets all foamy and bubbly.” she stated looking past his shoulder. “should take at least five minutes or so.”

“Gotcha ya, but I’m the oldest of four.” He started as she smiled softly. This was a different side of the bartender, a more shy and reserved one. “All boys no sister.”

“Oh no, your poor mãe Tom..” she giggled softly as he tilted his head in confusion. Her eyes widen lightly understanding the look.

“Mãe means mom in Portuguese.”

“Ah, a woman of many talents I see..”

It wasn’t long before the pair were adding the olive oil, flour and salt.  Tom insisting to be the one to mix it all together, not having the heart to go against him, she took the pleasure of adding more flour as needed. His hands mixing as she floured a clear surface.

“Want me to do it?” she asked as he handed her the small sticky ball of dough. He watched with fascination her skilled hands working the dough as it formed the most perfectly round shape he’d ever seen a person make. Her flour-covered hands reaching for the cup as she rolled out the dough.

“I think I need to get a roller..” he breathed out as she giggled softly giving him a wink before continuing rolling it out. “ now what?” He asked as she placed it on the baking sheet.

“Now you place it in the oven for a few minutes.” she breathed as she placed in the preheated oven. “just until it’s a little to pre-bake the crust, my brother always says 5 minutes for pre-bake.”

“He sounds like a wise man.” Tom smiled as she nodded her head chewing on her bottom lip. “Does he live around here?”

“No, he actually moved to Birmingham.”

“Ah not too far than..” he breathed as she nodded her head and took the crust out from the oven. Her eyes soften as she looked back at him with a soft smile to match her eyes.

“Now for toppings…” she asked, holding out a jar of cherries as he laughed, shaking his head.

“Definitely not, but I’m not opposed to pineapple.”

“Where have you been all my life.”

Tom was surprised at how well everything had turned out. They spent the remaining of the time cleaning up the kitchen as the rest of the pizza was baking. A small glass filled with her go-to drink at the bar, and a bottle of beer for him. His mind relaxing completely as she slowly opened up in his presence, making his heart swell at the beautiful woman before him.

“I have to say, I thought I’d fuck up.”

She giggled softly and took a sip of her drink. She found it completely and utterly adorable at his confession. The mere thought that he had put so much thought into something that was supposed to be simple, yet it was so simple but the most fun she’d ever had on a date.

“I don’t think so Tom.” she breathed out as his smile widened reaching for another slice of pizza.

It was safe to say that the date had gone absolutely better than he had expected. It was a rather low key date, but totally something that she loved. She also let him know just how much she had appreciated all his efforts and even pressed the softest of kisses on his lips before slipping through the door. Tom was on cloud nine the next morning and Harrison took that as a good sign.

That same night was like any other, the usual Saturday night crowd. His mood was a little brighter and it most definitely had something to do with the young woman who just walked in. His eyes held nothing but adoration as he quickly pulled out the white plate with the treats.

“You know Steve is gonna give you shit for all the missing cherry jars.” Harrison piped up as Tom shrugged his shoulders placing her drink and plate as she approached. It was a Saturday and she never came in on Saturdays, Tom knew that Harrison knew that. Hell, even the young college freshman knew it.

“Hey, darling.” He smiled softly as she sent him a smile and a small wave in Harrison’s direction. 

“Is it weird that I miss you?” she breathed out chewing on her bottom lip as he let out a small laugh shaking his head. Truth was, the few hours they had spent together before he left for work truly wasn’t enough, he found himself craving more and more of her.

“No.,” he stated as he filled up an empty pint, their eyes meeting briefly. “Cause I missed you too.”

Her cheeks flushed as she played with one of the cherries on the plate before her. Her cheeks red as she avoided his eyes. Harrison couldn’t hide his amusement as he gave Tom a small nudge, in assurance. The two had spent a good while analyzing everything that had gone on during their date and little hang out at the coffee shop down the street before he had to get ready for work.

“Mate, she wouldn’t have asked to see you if she didn’t feel something towards ya.” he breathed outpointing the neck of the bottle in his direction.

“Still mate, I just really like her.”

“Didn’t she say she liked being with ya?” Harrison stressed as Tom nodded his head, a hand rubbing the back of his neck. “that’s a good sign, plus she doesn’t strike me as the kind of girl to play with feelings.”

“I don’t know mate, I just-it’s intense what I feel.”

“Maybe this runs deeper than a crush Tom.”

She brought the last few cherries to her lips as she studied the place. The pub had become a signature hangout spot for herself and her friends. Will’s being a bit too far of a drive and no one really wanted to drive that far for drinks. The first time they walked in was a little shorter than three months ago, and that was the first time she and Tom had met.

“I’ll be done with my shift soon.” He announced as she smiled brightly and leaned closer to him. Her butt lifting off the barstool as her hands rested on the counter.

“Wanna meet me at my place?” she smiled softly as his cheeks burned at the thought of finally having that alone time with her that he caved.

“I don’t wanna-“

“Stop with that Tommy..” she cooed as Harrison let out a chuckle at the nickname that slipped past her lips.

“Yeah Tommy, stop..”

The two couldn’t help but laugh at Tom’s expense. Harrison giving her a soft wink before grabbing a clean up and working on a drink as he left the two alone.

“I’ll make something to eat, I bet you're hungry..”

“If you don’t mind.”

She waved him off leaning closer and pressing a soft kiss to his lips, he smiled softly looking at her with so much love in his eyes it was overwhelming. Her cheeks flushed as she stood up straight, took her bag, and promised to have dinner ready and told Harrison she’d be sure to send Tom home with leftovers.

“I like her,” Harrison smirked looking at his flushed friend who nodded his head with a bright smile.

“Me too mate.”

Tom whipped his hands with the towel as he threw it with the others. His hands a little clammy as he took a hold of his coat, his head spinning at the thought of going over to hers. Sure, it wasn’t as late as he had thought but it was certainly not a time he would be planning to go to a girl’s house, Netherlands a girl that he wasn’t officially seeing. Though he did like to think they were a bit past the uncertainty of emotions.

“Tom a word.”

Shrugging his jacket on, Tom followed Steve into the back office. The door closed behind him and he suddenly felt a wave of nerves flood through his body. He tried his hardest to pinpoint anything he could’ve possibly done that was against policy rules, other than the cherries, he couldn’t find any. He did his job fairly well, and Steve had even stated time and time again that he was one of his best bartenders. The last thing Tom needed was to get fired before his job was finalized.

“I’ve noticed a few of our cherry jars have been missing.”

Tom’s cheeks redden with the smirk on his boss’ face, Harrison was right. He sighed more than ready to defend himself.

“I get you like the girl mate, just try and not give out too many cherries okay?”

“Shit I’m not fired?”

A loud laugh filled the room along with Tom’s nervous chuckle as Steve shook his head. He knew how much Tom needed this job and the last thing he was gonna do is lose a bartender over some shitty cherries no one really ate.

“Course not, just try not to give her too many.”

“I’m no- I don’t- fuck” he was a wordless mess as he tried his hardest to defend himself, of course, he came out short. “Just wanna impress her.”

“Does she like you?” Steve asked with a raised eyebrow. He had missed the sweet little encounter and knew that Tom deserved a good girl in his life.

“I think so, I’m actually heading to her in a bit.” He mumbled with a dreamy smile on his face as Steve let out another laugh.

“Bring her a jar.”

“You sure? I have some at home.”

“You have cherries at home?”

“The same brand actually..” he admitted embarrassedly. He really was pulling out all the cards in hopes of impressing this girl, even though he already had her. “It’s her favorite thing.”

If that Tom left the bar with a small brown bag carrying a few jars of cherries. Harrison couldn’t help the smug look in his direction as he waved him goodbye. His mood shifting as he pulled his phone out wondering if it was okay to text her, or should he wait until he actually leaves his place to do so. There was so much uncertainty it was doing his head in. He was an adult acting like a lovesick teenager and he wasn’t sure he wanted it to ever stop.

Picking the later, Tom stopped by an open corner store buying a display of flowers that he deemed acceptable. Once he was changed, showered and he may or may not have spent a few moments wondering if it was appropriate to spend the night at her place, after a few inner battles he decided that he didn’t want to get too ahead of himself and possibly spoil something that could be so good. So with a bouquet of flowers and a bag full of cherries Tom made his way to her flat.

To say Tom was completely and utterly shitting himself when he arrived would be an understatement, he double-checked the address twice. He didn’t know much about her but what he did know he was learning to love, but now sitting in a rather posh neighborhood in central London his breathing was a bit ragged and his hands a sweaty mess.

Her door was decorated with the most adorable welcome sign, that his mother would no doubt question where she could get one as well. He couldn’t help but smile at the pink and white flower plants leading up the steps to her front door. It was black and unfit for the small colorful display she had set up, the lights were on, unlike the others around them.

Taken a deep breath, he looked over his outfit. Jeans and a hoodie, simple but perfect for the small little hang out, but was it a hangout? What if this was another date and he had completely overlooked the whole situation. Before he could even think twice he was ringing the doorbell and his heart was beating out of his chest as she opened the door.

“You came..”  

“Of course I did darling..” he breathed out giving her a smile as he reached out and handed her the flowers.

“You didn’t have to get me flowers Tommy..” she breathed out shutting the door behind him. His eyes taken in her flat, the white walls lingered with pictures and a small little menu that he could only guess was from her brother’s bar.

“No worries.” he smiled pulling her in with one arm wrapped around her waist. Her cheeks flushed as she rested her free hand on his chest. Her eyes twinking as she pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

“Ready to eat?”

“Starved.”

“Perfect, I made my mae’s famous pasta.”She smiled as they walked down the hall towards her open kitchen. Tom noticed that the house seemed to follow the same color scheme. Everything was really white and clean, it was simple and it screamed her. 

“What’s in the bag?” She asked as she turned to face him with a raised eyebrow. She watched as his smile widen as he pulled out two little jars of the cherries she was munching on. 

“You really gotta stop spoiling me with all these cherries Tom..” she breathed out as she got closer to the brunette with a giddy feeling spreading all over her.

“Why’s that?”

“Cause I don’t think I’ll ever be able to let you go.”

“That’s the plan sugar.” 

Taglist: 

@littlebookbengal​ @mars1599​ @averyfosterthoughts​ @tholland96​

[weskerfied]

I know you did this recently but what’s your opinion on all the mainline games and why :3

I’ve done this from favourite to least favourite. I also didn’t include the original 3 as I either haven’t played them in a long time or because I gave up halfway through *cough* 2 *cough*

5

I know it’s such an unpopular game but it’s one of the only ones I can play over and over again without getting bored. Story-wise, chapter 5-2 to 6-3 is the only interesting part. If I want to play a game without putting in too much effort, or take last night for example; I got really sick of trying to defeat Miranda on village of shadows and I was getting so mad over it. I turned on 5 and chilled for a couple hours. I really don’t know what it is about this game Wesker but I’m so drawn to it.

4

I love 4 for so many reasons but nostalgia is the reason why it places higher than CV. I remember watching my dad play it when it was first released. I thought it was the creepiest thing😂 This was when they first introduced the action element into the games, unlike 6, it had just the right amount of action paired with creepy ganados and eerie music to make it still feel like a resident evil game. OH AND THE WHOLE COLLECTING TREASURE/SELLING IT IS MY FAVOURITE THING.

Code Veronica

Solid game. 10/10. I felt so accomplished after beating it for the first time (it took me like 20 hours 😂) It was so frustrating but in a good way, apart from the part where I got to Alexia and realised I didn’t have the magnum and had to restart. I looooved the cheesy voice acting aswell. Capcom please remake this game I will love you forever. I want remake cv Wesker.

1 remastered

Game remake done right. This one was👌🏻👌🏻 All I’m gonna say is Wesker in his stars uniform is what does it for me 😌

2 remake

I enjoyed this a lot. Slightly different from what I played of the original but I’m not complaining. Mr X was terrifying, birkin was sexy terrifying, the ivys were HORRIFYING. Can we please talk about how good the RPD looked and the stars office like wow 🤩

3 remake

It was so rushed and I’m able to complete it in under an hour so that’s a huge disappointment, but I guess it’s good if I want to do a speed run. Resistance was probably the best thing to come out of this game tbh. It wasn’t terrible it just didn’t live up to the hype. Also Nicholai? I hated what they did with him, and Brad. Nemmy was a letdown too. He has nothing on Mr X.

Village

This game was so beautiful, the scenery was amazing. Horror wise I’d give it a 4/10. The Benviento house was the only part of the game where I felt slightly on edge and I loved every second of it. It felt a lot more like resident evil than 7 did, it had 4 vibes and that’s what did it for me. I didn’t care for Ethan whatsoever until I finished this. I’m not gonna lie to you but I sobbed so hard at the end. Not quite sure why they felt the need to try and incorporate umbrella in it somehow because it didn’t seem right; umbrella died years ago, we don’t need anymore origin stories. (Although the Spencer letter at the end was cool I have to admit.) Dimitrescu is overhyped in my opinion but that’s okay, if she makes you happy then you do you. Heisenberg was cool but his boss fight was really dumb (I’m not just saying that because it took me 2 days to defeat him on village of shadows.)

Revelations 2

Creepy af. I feel like it’s underrated and I’m not even sure if you’d class it as one of the main games, but I loved Alex (prefer her newer design though) and I adore Franz Kafka which made it that much more enjoyable for me. I wasn’t a fan of the whole switching between two characters and the timeline really confused me at first. It would’ve been so much easier to understand if they’d done Claire and Moira’s campaign first, then Barry and Natalia. The ending opens up a huge amount of possibilities for a future game and I’d really love to see “Natalia” again.

0

You’d think this would be higher on the list as Rebecca is my favourite character, but no. Absolutely not. It was nice to have a prequel and see my baby get her own game, I just found it so boring, I hated Billy, I hated the switching between characters. I hated dropping items on the floor and having to trek back to retrieve them again. ITEM BOXES ARE A THING!! I played it once, then played Wesker mode (which was terribly done but Rebecca looked super cute) then I gave it to a friend who got the platinum trophy for me 😂

7

I liked the Bakers. Was an incredibly creepy game but lacked the resident evil vibe. I despised pretty much all of it, especially when Chris comes in with that stupid face. Capcom!! What were you thinking?!?! Lore wise, it’s good. Everything else just sucked in my opinion.

6

Too long. Too many characters. Too many different places. Not enough horror. Brain malfunction. 50+ hours it took me to platinum this. Simmons was a shite villain, Carla seemed pointless, Wesker suddenly has a kid? It’s almost comical.

Revelations

Speaking of comical, we’re onto my least favourite title in the series: revelations. I don’t really think it’s fair for me to give my opinion on this one as I only got halfway through the game before throwing it somewhere in my room for it to never be seen again. It was almost painful for me to play. It was nice to have Chris and Jill but the other two (Parker and whatever her name was) were so annoying. Then there was the two dudes who were just added for comic relief for absolutely no reason. I played Rev 2 before playing this one as I couldn’t get hold of it and I was super excited when I managed to get hold of a copy. Honestly it was such a waste of £25.

I didn’t realise how long this post was but thanks for asking!!

[merryfortune]

A Lunchbox Made with Love & Precision

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! Sevens

Relationships: Ranze/Yuga, Ranze & Rinnosuke

Word Count: 1.4k

Tags: Canon Compliant, Out of Character, Coda, Pining, Developing Relationship

    Ranze used to consider herself as being as a basic or mediocre cook. Now having discovered that Kirishima Romin is a truly terrible cook, Ranze now considered herself as having much prowess in the kitchen that she could take pride in. Or at least, that was the plan that she had taken to the kitchen two hours ago before deciding that no. This simply would not do.

  The old adage appeared to still ring true. The way to a boy’s heart was through his stomach and Yuga devoured his rolled omelettes for lunch every day with much glee. So, Ranze thought that a good way to channel her feelings for him would be to fix him a up a lunch box to try and whilst she had the side dishes – fresh salad, baked honey carrot sticks, and apple slices– down to a fine art, it was the lunch box’s crowning glory that she feared would ruin it all for her. She simply had to make the greatest rolled omelettes for Yuga or else, she feared, that he would never requite Ranze’s feelings. Or at least that’s what she thought. And, in her own mind at least, rightfully feared.

  Ranze had it all planned out.

  She had sealed the vinaigrette, homemade, of course, into a little packet for Yuga to tear into to flavour his salad. She had washed the cherry tomatoes and lettuce leaves, tossing them through with olives and Spanish onion. That was all good and all ready. She had soaked the carrots in honey and assorted spices rather than serving the carrot sticks cold and plain. She also had selected the most perfectly red apples to cut into rabbit shapes tomorrow morning, so the fruit didn’t wilt overnight in the lunchbox. It was all prepared to her expert specifications save for one.

  The rolled omelettes.

  As of right now, Ranze was approximately three attempts deep in making the rolled omelettes but so far, these previous three were only basic. Just average. And rather mediocre overall. They simply would not do.

  From her observations, the rolled omelettes that Yuga brought from the cafeteria to eat appeared to be only egg and cheese but Ranze wanted to impress him, so she was trying to put some garnish on them. Nothing too out of ordinary, just different measures of various herbs as well as bits of onion and bacon. But it just wasn’t going her way for some reason and she wasn’t sure why.

  Looking over her creations, she poked and prodded them, unable to find the source of her dissatisfaction with them. The first one was the most average, and most basic of all. It was fluffy but not too fluffy; more yellow than gold, which was better than overly browned or worse, burnt and blackened. It had the least amount of toppings in it as well, examining the rolled omelette, Rane could hardly see any of the chives or similar that she had stirred into the batter to have made it. Still, it could be worse, but it also could be much, much better.

  Looking at her second rolled omelette, she had perhaps gone too overboard with correcting what she saw as her previous mistake: not enough toppings. This one smelt delectable with all the bacon stuffed into it, same with the caramelised onions and garlic but as such, it was falling onto its side, unable to stand with its own weight. Not to mention, it had browned perhaps too much on the bottom, so it wasn’t quite up to Ranze’s immaculate standards.

  The third of the rolled omelettes that she had made was, in her opinion, the worst of the lot. She had thought that she would have finally struck the right balance but alas. It had what she perceived as the following issues: a lacklustre texture, [etc].

  Ranze could only sigh, staring at her finished rolled omelettes, now grown cold, and wonder if it was worth remaking the batter yet again until her brother had walked in.

  “Is everything okay, Ranze-nee-chan?” he asked.

  He had wanted to give her some space since hell had no fury like a woman scorned but a girl in love was even worse. But he would have thought that she would be done by now – and also because he was thirsty and wanted some cold water from the refrigerator. Coming down the stairs, he was disheartened to see that Ranze’s workspace was as messy as it ever got with things still in use.

  Ranze deflated as Rinnosuke neared her. He put a hand on her shoulder and pet it as she had her sob to him.

  “I just can’t live up to my own expectations.” She lamented. “Whilst none of my efforts have been disasters, none of them have been miracles either.

  “Oh, sis…” Rinnosuke murmured. “I think Yuga will appreciate your hard efforts either way. Although, a strategy to consider would be to soften him up now and then wow him with the Valentine’s Day chocolate when it comes to turn.”

  Ranze’s eyes lit up. “Yes, perhaps that is the way to do it.” she replied, almost breathless.

  Rinnosuke was happy to see his older sister cheer up some. He licked his lips. “Why don’t I sample what you’ve made already? Perhaps your eye is too critical, and you need some outside perspective.”

  “Th-That’s not a bad idea, either.” Ranze agreed.

  “Then allow me to sample them and give back some constructive criticism.” Rinnosuke suggested.

  “Alright, be my guest.” Ranze replied.

  Rinnosuke went through, one by one, and as he ate, Ranze explained her own assessments of the rolled omelettes. When Rinnosuke finished, he padded a napkin on his mouth and Ranze anxiously waited to hear Rinnosuke’s opinions. She stood, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, afraid that her younger brother might think that they were worse than she thought.

  But instead, he smiled blithely, “I liked them all, Ranze-nee-chan.” He told her. “But if I had to pick a favourite, I would choose the second. I think Yuga would enjoy them very much.”

  Ranze gasped with elation, her shoulders lifting as she smiled. “Thank you, Rinnosuke. I’ll make more immediately, feel free to have the leftovers.” She spoke excitedly and Rinnosuke was gladdened to see it.

  “That sounds nice, Ranze-nee-chan.” Rinnosuke replied.

  He took the remainder of what he had eaten – and a glass of water – back upstairs so he could continue studying, and distracting himself, from how lonely he was without his older sister by his side. Still, he was heartened to know that Ranze was having fun in the kitchen making her rolled omelettes for Yuga.

  The following morning, Ranze had packed her own lunchbox, a lunchbox for Rinnosuke, and of course one for Yuga. She couldn’t wait for lunchtime. She felt electric all day as she waited for the fateful chime of the electronic bell and for all of Goha Elementary to sit at their tables to eat.

  Ranze slunk up the hallways to find Yuga’s classroom and she met him in the doorway. He was a little bit startled to see her and she smiled awkwardly behind the sheen of her glasses. She thrust her present forward at Yuga’s chest, his hands flailed as he tried to grab a hold of it.

  “For you.” she said. “From me, not Gakuto-sama, for your information.”

  Yuga laughed and he beamed, happy and wide for Ranze. “Thank you muchly.” He said as he examined the box and how it was covered in love heart themed cloth. “Ooh, a homemade lunchbox?”

  “Correct.” Ranze was all but stuttering.

  “I’ll look forward to it.” Yuga replied.

  “Your welcome,” Ranze said, and then looked over her shoulder, both Rinnosuke and Gakuto were giving her the thumbs up from afar as she blushed, “but I must be going now. Duty calls.”

  “Good luck – and thank you. Again.” Yuga said and he lifted up the box.

  Ranze smiled and her heart was pounding maniacally in her chest. She nodded and she moved on, stilted at first in her embarrassment over her earnestness and then quick as a flash. Yuga watched, happy as a daisy, before strolling back into the classroom to enjoy his lunchbox from Ranze.

  And although Ranze had disappeared, she had eagerly returned to watch Yuga eat the food that she had made him. She watched with awe, and flushed cheeks and a pounding heart, as Yuga unwrapped the lunchbox and looked upon its contents with wonder. He happily plucked out a rolled omelette first and ate with cheer, and Ranze could barely contain her happiness as she observed, with a pen in hand, writing down everything into her diary with a blissful grin of her own.