#film synopsis

[behindthesefangirleyes]

Spoilers Ahead - “The Tutor”

I’ve had a few requests from people outside of the U.S. (or people who just aren’t near theaters showing the film) to do a spoiler-filled recap of the film.

There’s no way that I remembered every single detail, but I tried my best. I also incorporated a few thoughts & observations along the way. I hope this satisfies any curiosity.

The film starts off giving a little bit of background about Ethan (Garrett Hedlund) and shows him tutoring high-school aged kids from wealthy families. It basically drops you into the privileged and vapid lives of these kids. Really stereotypically exaggerated, but pretty amusing at points nonetheless. It focuses a lot on how he reacts to their seeming inability to learn. Then it transitions to the students as they start to get it and do well thanks to his tutoring. This part of the beginning basically ends with one mother (presumably) asking him what his secret is and I don’t really remember what he says but it was just a laid back, nothing sort of answer.

The film continues and we learn that he and his girlfriend Annie (Victoria Justice) are expecting a baby. She wants to know how Ethan’s father took the news that they aren’t married but are expecting, and he’s silent for her long enough to tell that he hasn’t told his dad (even though he promises that he will soon). In time, we learn that there are bigger issues there with his father (who we never meet).

Ethan’s day job isn’t super clear, at least to me. He works sort of in an office setting, but maybe like a temp-type job. When he goes into work, he’s told to call some guy named Charlie who is ... frankly, equal parts a lot and totally unnecessary to the story. Charlie is the voice-over in the trailer that tells Ethan about the job paying $2,500 per day. As he said in the trailer, details are sparse. He’s also randomly calling from a strip club and shouted out Montclair, NJ, which is hilarious as someone who grew up in a neighboring town to Montclair (but I digress). As is established, Ethan takes the job with minimal questions asked because he needs the money. Which, as my friend pointed out, maybe do not live in NYC in a pretty spacious apartment if you can’t afford it LOL. There’s a real disconnect.

Ethan packs his bags and moves into the family’s house for a trial-run tutoring week, leaving a maybe-5-month pregnant Annie to pack up their apartment by herself (goals? lmao). Once Ethan arrives and is brought inside by the butler, he meets Jackson (Noah Schnapp). Jackson is stand-offish and doesn’t make any immediate eye contact. Ethan tries to ask him questions and glean what he is even meant to work on with him. Jackson says he doesn’t know how he did on his SATs, but he would get his father’s secretary to send over his results. Ethan gives Jackson some test prep to see what level he’s on and then leaves him to that while he explores the house some more.

During Ethan’s exploration is when he meets some other people who are around the house. The one guy is later identified as Jackson’s cousin. Who Jackson describes as the “brother that I never had” and who “summers with us” (you can’t make this stuff up). There’s a random girl with him, never stated but inferred to be his girlfriend. That whole scene was just purposefully weird and to be honest, I could’ve done without it. What we do learn, though, is that cell reception is best by the pool unless you have access to the Wi-Fi. More on that later. This sequence I believe is also when Ethan sees all the motorcycles that the family owns. Ethan then sees Jackson’s clearly a whiz at math and gives him an essay to work on instead. The butler returns and takes Ethan to his quarters, which is basically a house in itself with a pool table, etc. & later that night he talks about it with Annie over the phone.

I’m pretty sure the next day when they’re working is when Ethan asks what Jackson’s father does for a living. Jackson says that he’s not allowed to talk about it. Then he asks about Jackson’s mother and he clams up before saying that “they sent her away.” Ethan apologizes for that. I’m sort of losing track of the order at this point, but eventually (possibly later that day) there’s the scene within Ethan’s quarters where Jackson appears. He asks if he can come in and just randomly starts talking to Ethan about how he feels like his father hates/is disappointed in him. He lays his head down on Ethan’s knee, unprompted, and Ethan is basically like, tf? But then the scene goes as the preview showed - Ethan comforts him, says he has his own complicated relationship with his father who we learn can be volatile and is a drinker, and then Jackson gets a sort of cold yet cheerfully detached smile on his face and leaves again without any clear reason why he showed up in the first place.

At some point, Ethan is taking photos in the woods. Which made me realize I forgot about the scene where Jackson asks him to take his photo. It happens maybe the second day of tutoring. So anyway, Ethan’s taking photos because he took “photojournalism in high school and it stuck” (because what’s a tutor without a passion for photography who reads Dostoevsky on the side? I am totally serious, he does). Jackson’s cousin shows up (how coincidental) in a car with his gf and some other girl named Teddy. They insist on giving Ethan a ride and that’s when Ethan asks what the deal is with Jackson (he’s already said to Annie that he doesn’t know why he’s there if this kid is so smart, which Annie says maybe he’s a nervous test-taker and Ethan suspects that Jackson is “on the ‘spectrum’”/some “mad genius”. Lots of ableist language used throughout the film. The cousin asks what Jackson has told Ethan about himself, and he says the thing about the mother being sent away. Ethan sort of scoffs and has an offhanded remark like, “Yeah, you could say that.” *Cue foreboding music* Then the cousin makes some lewd remark about how Teddy will do whatever the cousin says if Ethan wants to get with her. Ethan responds to this super misogynist remark by saying he has a girlfriend. The cousin said he heard about that and how they’re expecting a baby and this can be like one last hurrah or some other asinine remark. At this point, Jackson’s “how do you feel about your baby being a bastard?” comment has already happened.

As the week is at the mid-way point, Jackson doesn’t want to study one day. He and the cousin offer to buy off Ethan to let him go early. Bidding starts at $1,000 & works its way up to $5,000 before Ethan basically just goes “c’est la vie” and takes the money. You’d think it would come back to bite him or that Jackson would say he stole the money. It never does. Later in the week as Ethan is packing, Jackson invites him for a farewell dinner with his father on their last tutoring day. Ethan says that he can’t because he has plans. Jackson tries to insist, but Ethan snaps at him that he’s his tutor, not his friend. This felt like a weird overreaction compared to how calm he was when Jackson called his baby a bastard. Jackson runs off and eventually Ethan goes to look for him and apologize. He comes upon Jackson’s bedroom where a laptop is left open (naturally, not password protected). On it, Ethan sees photos of himself and him and Annie on the night that we had previously seen them in their living room. He is creeped out by Jackson’s “obsession.”

On the last day of tutoring, Jackson is going through it. He’s trying to write but he’s shaky and ripping out a page when he’s not happy with it. Ethan confronts him about the laptop photos and when Jackson says he shouldn’t be on his laptop, Ethan says he was looking for him to apologize. Eventually, Jackson sort of has a meltdown where we see in the preview him pounding on his legs and runs out of the den. Ethan chases after him but he’s gone and then a man appears on top of the steps who Ethan says “must be Jackson’s father.” The man says how Jackson is always like this and Ethan apologizes for not being able to make the dinner. The scene is the father making random nonsensical remarks about World War I and offering Ethan this big painting in the foyer since he likes it because “we’ve got three or four others around here like it.” Rich people are a different breed.

At some point during this week, Annie is out walking with one of her friends & she talks about her history with Ethan (as you do lmao). We learn he’s cheated on her with some artist or whatever. She still has trouble trusting him, etc. etc. Now that the week of tutoring has ended, Ethan and Annie are out to dinner & having it with the same woman and her significant other. Annie announces the sex of the baby is a boy. The other couple, for no apparent reason, announce they’re moving to Portland (which Portland? they never say) but of course, not until after the baby is born because she’d never do that to Annie. Gag. Ethan is brooding and drinking the entire dinner. Right before the dinner, he heard from Charlie again that the family wants to continue the tutoring of Jackson. He isn’t eager to continue but the pay rate skyrockets. The couple says to him how they hear he has remarkable stories of students that he’s tutored. Ethan tells Annie’s favorite of a girl who threw a book at him and called him white trash. Another is of a father sending him on a trip to London to take his kid on a college tour. He then begins talking about Jackson and ranting about his creepiness of knowing about the baby to taking his photos to his random meltdown, and then all of a sudden Jackson appears and clearly heard the entire rant. The table is deadly quiet (at this point I’ve slid all the way down in my seat from pure secondhand embarrassment) and Annie greets Jackson and they make brief awkward small talk. Jackson eventually leaves and the scene transitions to a car ride home as Annie says she hates when “Ethan gets like this” and how it’s always bad when he drinks because he reminds her “of your dad”. This oh-so-mysterious dad.

Again, I’m sort of losing the plot at this point but the next major thing that I’m remembering is that Jackson calls Ethan to say that he and his family are in Manhattan for the day and the tutoring will take place at their brownstone. So Ethan can let himself into it. Ethan tries to apologize for the previous encounter, but Jackson says they’ll talk later and the line goes dead. Ethan goes over to the brownstone and waits. Jackson says that they’re stuck in traffic and there’s fruit that he left out for Ethan. Ethan eats two strawberries (what a dummy) and starts feeling weird. As he collapses with a thud, there’s a not quite worthy TikTok transition to a body getting dumped into water. Again with the theme of water. Ethan comes to and swims to the surface as a small boat is retreating. The next scene is him coming home to Annie and that’s the scene where she asks where he was and then is skeptical when Ethan believes he was drugged and mentions how a random girl kept calling their house but wouldn’t give her name. They fight and the next day, Ethan is convinced he figured out the drug that Jackson gave him based on its effects and side-effects.

Ethan develops his camera roll in another scene and as he’s doing it, there are photos on it that he didn’t take. Ones of him laying in compromising positions with Terry. Again, are these ever fully utilized? Nope. He gets in bed with Annie and they sort of make a truce because they don’t want to fight and both want answers more. He’s already encouraged her to use the tracker on his phone if she doesn’t trust him.

Now I really don’t remember the order of what happens next but eventually, Ethan gets a phone call from Charlie. Charlie tells him that Jackson accused him of being dangerous and there are bruises on his legs. Ethan says how Jackson gave those to himself and then Charlie hits him with a separate accusation about how Ethan was inappropriate with girls and that there were photos. Ethan unintentionally admits to the existence of photos, which is enough for Charlie to fire him. Glass houses, am I right?

Ethan is on a quest for answers as well as other paying work. He’s not even qualified enough to work as a waiter and at some point, he confronts Jackson who’s waiting for him on a busy street to stay away from him and his family. Jackson asked if Ethan meant what he said about him and Jackson, ever the dummy, says he did. Jackson is resolved to ruin his life and Jackson physically pushes him before the cousin intervenes. Later, Ethan is brought in for some questioning because there was video of Jackson getting assaulted in an alley and he accused Ethan. Ethan says he didn’t do it & it was probably Jackson’s cousin. They asked Ethan’s whereabouts the previous night and I don’t recall when this was exactly, it may be when he was going through the photographs. He doesn’t answer but is brought to a separate interrogation room. As he goes by a separate room, Annie is comforting Jackson for no apparent reason. Like, how that makes sense is beyond me. The police tell Ethan not to leave town & he agrees that he wants this resolved and his life back.

Eventually in a later scene, he tells Jackson that he’s ruined his life. He starts trying to find more answers by 1) going back to the mansion and 2) returning to the brownstone. At the mansion, he is hiding in the bushes and sees another group of people pull up out front. He asks if they’re staying there and the man says it’s his house. Ethan asks if they’re renting it and if they know where Jackson is, but the guy doesn’t know a Jackson and says they’ve been away or something. Ethan says that he’s stayed there the past week, which creeps the man out. The man tries to usher him off the property when a girl comes out and it’s Terry, who they immediately make eye contact. So Jackson had her help with the setting etc. The man pushes Ethan off the property and he goes back to the brownstone to find evidence of his drugging for a restraining order. He finds a strawberry under the couch, but this dipshit doesn’t consider that wealthy people will have in-house security. The police show up and he’s thrown in a cell.

**Mention of Suicide**

Jumping around again, at some point he and Annie are talking. I’m not sure when, but she finds out about a girl named Rachel. I don’t remember how she found out because as I said in my non-spoiler post, this movie was all over the damn place. This Rachel died under mysterious circumstances years ago. At least five or six years, maybe? Ethan eventually admits that they “had a fling”, but Rachel took her own life. Annie asked if it was an affair but basically he said Rachel was just in a marriage on paper. She and her husband weren’t in love. Annie is alarmed that Ethan wouldn’t think to mention any of it before and he says that he tried to forget it and it’s not the most natural thing to bring up in conversation. Annie discovers that he was also questioned and basically says she can’t be around him right now because all of the stress isn’t good for the baby. She kicks him out of their home.

Ethan spirals. He’s living in his car and drinking booze etc. (Just like his dad, I guess *eye roll*) Annie talks to that same friend about the situation and pulled up old articles about the situation and the friend is sort of on Ethan’s side in terms of how it’s a hard thing to mention casually etc. The friend asks Annie again if she still has the tracker on Ethan’s phone, which she confirms since she’s still not trusting him. Ethan eventually gets a call from Jackson saying they’d be able to end this cat and mouse deal if Ethan meets him at the place where Rachel died.

Now, full disclaimer: I don’t remember if Jackson was the one who told Annie about Rachel or what the deal was here. But the “big discovery” is that Rachel was actually Jackson’s mother. So when Ethan shows up where Rachel died, Jackson reveals that he shouldn’t actually know where she died. Even though Rachel’s body washed up in the body of water, she didn’t die from drowning. There was no water in her lungs. He head was slammed down so hard on the planks down by the water that it chipped it, so she was already dead when she was thrown into the water. The only people with access to that knowledge were the police, Jackson and his father after they were given the police report, and the murderer. Ethan says it’s not a leap to know where she died because of the water patterns and where she washed up or whatever. Anyway, it was flimsy.

Soon thereafter, Ethan gets a conk on the head. He wakes up in a house and there’s Jackson and the cousin. The cousin is all too eager to kill Ethan, but Jackson wants answers. Ethan starts by saying he didn’t see and/or talk to Rachel the night that she died. Then he says they only talked over the phone. Then under threat of death, he eventually drops the party line that “Rachel” wasn’t that serious of a relationship. He admits that it was more than a fling. That Rachel was obsessed with him and wanted one more night with him & then he agreed. That’s when Jackson revealed he had Rachel’s old journals where she wrote about Ethan. How he started off cute but was obsessive & always like a puppy dog, so needy. How he was a “loser” etc. Ethan unravels further and then just sort of snaps.

Another disclaimer: I don’t remember when we found out, but we did at some point learn that Jackson’s father died three years ago. I think when Ethan’s in the interrogation room. So that dude that he talked to? Another of Jackson’s players, but one that was never explained.

Anyway, Ethan goes to attack Jackson but the cousin tackles him. He’s got like a fire poker to turn logs or something. Eventually, Ethan gets him in a chokehold with it as Jackson runs up the stairs. He suffocates and kills the cousin & then starts hunting for Jackson (who he, for the record, knew existed when he was with Rachel but said he thought his name was Charlie or something - it made no sense).

The scene at some point transitions to Annie, who’s laying in bed. She looks at her phone and sees her Ethan GPS and is wondering what he’s doing.

It goes back to the other two. Jackson is running around and hiding and crying as Ethan hunts for him. At one point, Ethan’s like “I should’ve realize who you are, you look just like her.” LOL alright. They end up down by the water with Jackson hiding beneath the wooden boards on the stairs that would lead to water. Jackson finally approaches him and is using the fire poker to bang & attempt to scare him etc. He’s admitting how he killed Rachel (it’s basically a “crime of passion”) and how now Jackson will die where she died. That’s when Annie announces her presence & Ethan, in true sociopath form, turns to face her and act like none of what she just heard him say is true. The close-up here of Garrett’s performance is probably the one that I liked the most in the film since it’s basically him crying and totally devoid of genuine remorse yet he still manages to look melancholy. He has his whole monologue and then you hear a gunshot.

That’s the moment from the preview where you see Jackson with the gun as a close-up. He sort of shot him just below the shoulder? I guess it was meant to be the heart. Eventually, Ethan falls down and into the water (foreshadowing from earlier?). The big foreshadowing I found was the relevance of phones working best near water (i.e.: cell service by pool, GPS by waterfront). That was probably the least heavy-handed and well approached part of the script.

The scene shifts to Jackson and Annie sort of in a stupor as the police work around them. Eventually, Jackson is looking out the window like we saw in the promotional stills. Annie comes up from behind him and asks whether the cops found Ethan’s body. Jackson shakes his head no and it’s kinda like, “Uh, okay what isn’t being said here?” Because they did have scuba divers going down for him. So that was sort of ambiguous. Then she made some random remark about living your life around people and not really knowing them.

The camera sort of pans out to a wide shot of their backs as they look out on the horizon and Ethan’s voiceover is heard. He’s giving a more full answer to the woman who asked him originally what his method of tutoring entailed. I cannot even begin to tell you what he said because by that point I was like, this is an 1.5 of my life that I’m never getting back LOL. But it ended with a close-up of him smiling at the camera, then turning creepy serious.

Fin

[hotteoki]

change of heart (j.w.y.)

pairing: suitor!wooyoung x princess!reader

genre: arranged marriage, medieval era, strangers to lovers

cw: one swear word

wc: 5k

notes: hi @daesukiii i was your secret admirer! i hope you like this fic i definitely went overboard on 😭 this was heavily inspired by the 'brave' movie!

synopsis: when you're forced into an unwilling, arranged marriage where your husband is decided by a competition with three contests, will an stranger be able to find his way into your life to befriend you and turn your future around?

you sat on your throne, picking at your fingernails while waiting for the clans to arrive. to your right sat your father, and to his right sat your mother, and your brother jongho sat in his throne to your left. he was trying to catch your gaze so he could apologise, except you had no intentions of forgiving him anytime soon. he had told your mother about your complaining towards this whole arranged marriage; since then, your mother had been keeping an exceptionally close eye on you, determined to make you look as “presentable for the suitors” as possible.

upon jongho poking your arm, you snapped your head to him, giving him the worst glare you could muster, which didn’t faze him at all. he gave you a gummy smile at your narrowed eyes, before leaning over to you, speaking quietly, “i am sorry, truly, but i thought it would be really funny… and it is!” he laughed at his own words, leaning back into his seat. you honestly had half a mind to snitch on him to your mother about the real reason why there were muddy footprints everywhere in the throne room yesterday. “i will kill you!” you whisper-shouted at him, sending him a threatening look, resulting in a harsh call of your name from your mother. you turned to her, and found her glaring at you with her index finger raised to her lips shushing you. you spluttered, gesturing to jongho, “he started it!” “it does not matter who started it! the suitors will be here in any minute and you are still not sitting up straight!” she responded sternly, facing the entrance of the room to indicate the end of the conversation. oh, you were so going to snitch on that little bastard.

before you could think of any other plans to get back at jongho, the grand doors to the throne room opened. out of instinct, you straightened your back and placed your crossed hands on your lap. the three clans marched in, each led by their leading lord and his son, who was to be a suitor for your betrothal. as the clans settled in their respective areas, you distinctly heard jongho scoffing at one of the suitors flexing his muscles. your mother began her speech about the three challenges the suitors will have to compete in for your hand in marriage. you blocked out her words, having heard it one too many times while she was practising, your eyes accidentally landing on possibly the most handsome man you’ve ever seen in your life. you prayed to every deity in existence you hadn’t stared at him for too long.

you waited impatiently for the first two lords to introduce themselves as clan park and clan kim respectively, unable to contain a smile forming when it was time for the third and final clan to introduce themselves. “your majesty, i present my heir and only son, wooyoung, who single-handedly took down a fleet of 1,000 men, and retrieved the ships the once-standing clan chun had stolen from clan kim and clan lee.” ‘wooyoung’ stood confidently, hands resting on the hilt of his sword, the tip of the impressive weapon pressed against the stony ground. when the focus was no longer on him, you caught sight of wooyoung shaking his head subtly, holding an aggravated expression on his face. you couldn’t help but tilt your head in confusion over his behaviour, but decided to push it to the back of your head, turning to look at your mother once more.

you took your seat on your throne, now moved outdoors to watch the first challenge: javelin throwing. the suitors took their places behind the line, each standing next to the javelin they chose. park youngjae of clan park was first. he swiftly picked up his javelin, throwing with ease, turning away without looking at where it landed to blow you an arrogant kiss, smirking at the loud cheers from the members of clan park and letting out a holler himself, flexing his muscles smugly again. you stared at him, appalled and disturbed at his actions, giving a pleading look at a laughing jongho, silently begging him to put you out of your misery.

next was kim chanwook of clan kim. he walked a few metres away from the line, before charging forward and letting go of his javelin. you had to contain your snickers over the pathetic landing a mere 20 metres away from the line out of politeness. you hadn’t even thought such a low score was possible. your father sucked in a deep breath through his teeth from beside you, “i would have run off in shame if i were him. poor guy.”

wooyoung was the final contestant. he tossed his javelin lazily, barely putting any effort in, scoring himself a solid 45 metres. you couldn’t help but find it impressive; despite his attempt at a weak throw, the distance of his javelin was a good score. good to know someone’s fed up as well, though, you thought to yourself. your father nudged you with his shoulder, leaning closer to you to whisper, “he definitely could have beat mister show-off here.” he gestured to youngjae. you nodded at his words, earning yourself a scowl from your mother. you were also almost certain you were the only one who noticed wooyoung scoffing at youngjae basking in the compliments from the circle of servants and maids alike who had crowded around him.

though you were glad you could relate to wooyoung about the ridiculousness of this all, you silently wished he would at least try in the competitions, deeply hoping he would be the winner, and allow you to take his hand in marriage.

you laid in bed, tossing and turning, unable to find comfort in your normally cosy bed. your mind constantly travelled to wooyoung, finding irritation in how he hadn’t spared a single glance at you all day, behaving as if the whole purpose of the competition wasn’t for you. perhaps that was a little hypocritical of you to think– hating this forced marriage yet wanting a slimmer of attention from one of the attractive suitors more than anything.

as you threw your thin duvet off, goosebumps travelled down your entire body for a second and caused you to shiver slightly. you swung your legs off the bed, hoping a walk around the castle corridors would soothe your head. retrieving the unused candle from your bedside drawer, you lit it up using the torch and stepped out of your room, eying up and down the empty corridors, only a select few soldiers standing near every entrance, seeming to be dozing off.

your hands trailed along the stone-built walls to support the dim lighting from your candle, attempting to ignore the pounding feeling in your chest over any dangers that could be lurking around the corners. despite jongho’s continuous convincing of how safe your castle was, your gut couldn’t help but send signals of something different about tonight. you paused in your tracks, debating whether to continue or not. breathing out through your nose, you listened to the voice in your head and turned around, deciding to return to your room after all.

you managed to make around fifteen steps before a body walked straight into you. you jumped backwards, instinctively shoving the candle in the person’s face, illuminating wooyoung’s stoic expression. “oh. it’s you,” you stated simply, silently berating yourself for acting so embarrassingly in front of him. he raised an eyebrow, “you are not asleep, princess?” you shrugged, “couldn’t sleep. then again, neither are you.” he looked away for a second, before focusing his gaze back on you, “that’s fair.”

the awkward tension in between you was palpable, neither of you speaking aloud, his eyes remaining on your figure while yours darted anywhere but him. “well, i shall see you tomorrow, then.” he manoeuvred around you, beginning to walk away from you. you couldn’t let this opportunity go now. you had to do something.

he turned back at you, sounding confused as he asked, “yes, princess?” you were just as confused as him for a moment, before letting go of his sleeve. you hadn’t realised you grabbed it in the spur of the moment. you opened and closed your mouth, attempting to form your words. he gave you a small smile, almost to encourage you. swallowing thickly, you ignored your flaming cheeks and answered him, “we have a courtyard. it is my favourite spot to escape a sleepless night.” you mentally pat your back, congratulating yourself for managing to speak to him without stuttering, sending him one last glance before turning back once more to return to your room.

“you have not told me its location.”

fuck.

you turned back around sheepishly, avoiding his expectant eyes while rubbing the back of your neck, “continue down this hallway and go down the corridor at the first turn on your right. the courtyard should be a few metres down.” your face was burning up, and it was definitely reddening. you could only hope wooyoung took it as an illusion from your candle and his.

he nodded with an amused smile, raising his eyebrows, “alright. thank you, princess.” he bowed slightly, leaving you to your own thoughts in the middle of the corridor as the light to his candle fades in the distance.

you sat at the empty dining hall, having woken up earlier than anyone in the castle. it was a habit you found yourself having picked up a week before the suitors arrived. perhaps the peace and tranquillity of being by yourself grounded you subconsciously.

needless to say, you weren’t expecting the grand doors to open slowly. you looked up from your plate, startled, only relaxing until you met the soft gaze of wooyoung.

“apologies. i did not realise anyone would be awake already,” he spoke with such tenderness you never thought was possible. “neither,” you replied, gesturing at the empty seat to your left for him to sit. he obliged, albeit hesitantly, clearly unfamiliar with what to do to get his breakfast.

you nodded once to the servant by your right, “he shall have the same as me, please.” she responds with a great bow, scuttling off to inform the cooks and other servants. your focus returns to wooyoung, who had his head tilted in curiosity. “what is it?” you ask politely, finding his unfaltering gaze unsettling. “nothing. i have just never seen a princess be so… kind to her servants.” you frowned slightly at that. the way you treated your servants earlier was the bare minimum, just how bad were the princesses he’s met before? his meal arrived soon enough, brought to him by a different servant, and the two of you fell into a comfortable silence.

“so what-” you were interrupted by the bursting of the grand doors to the dining hall, accompanied by loud clamouring from the rest of the suitors and their servants. wooyoung stood to move away from you so as to not be branded a cheater by attempting to get closer to you in private times.

“and what do we have here? our beloved princess and a sneaky little fox?” youngjae laughed loudly, but there was no humour behind it. he nudged chanwook by his arm, gesturing for him to chime in as well, though from his expression, it was more of a command from youngjae. “y-yes, it seems so, youngjae.”

he wrinkled his nose in disgust, “do not call me by my name.” he bumps past chanwook to loop an arm around wooyoung’s shoulder, squeezing around his torso, almost as a threat, “so? anything to say for yourself, jung? or will this be a problem i will have to bring up to the majesties-” “i asked for him.”

youngjae faltered at your now standing form, stuttering a little, “w-what? what, uh,” he chuckled nervously before continuing, “what are you talking about, princess?” you stepped around the corner of the table to stand in front of both wooyoung and youngjae, plastering a stern look, initiating the one permanently etched on your mother’s face, “i asked for him. is that a problem, park youngjae?”

he immediately stepped back, putting a distance between both you and wooyoung, bitterness leaving his tongue as he spoke, “no, it is not. you are the princess, after all.”

he left swiftly, yanking on chanwook’s arm to follow, leaving only you and wooyoung along with a few servants remaining in the room. you released the breath you had been holding, having lost your appetite now. “you didn’t have to do that, princess. i would have left on my own volition,” wooyoung murmured, finding it difficult to meet your eyes for the first time since he met you.

“is there a reason why i should not have done what i did?” you replied back with sincerity, beginning to doubt your previous actions. wooyoung was silent for a few seconds, and you thought he was trying to find a way to thank you, until he opened his mouth: “do not ever do that again.”

you blinked, and suddenly you were left alone in the dining hall.

what?

afternoon came and it was time for the second contest. you sat on your throne once again to watch the suitors take their places behind the lines, ready to run. you couldn’t help but frown at wooyoung’s lack of interest at you, a strong wave of deja vu washing over you .his eyes only trained at the finishing line in front; you thought you had been getting closer with each other, but at the same time, you weren’t so sure you wanted to speak to him at the moment either way.

the pistol rings and the suitors sprint off. your father hollers in excitement, cheering the suitors on, egging jongho to do the same as well. your breath hitched as the suitors got closer and closer to the line, approximately 30 metres away.

25 metres.

youngjae was in the lead.

20 metres.

wooyoung overtook him.

15 metres.

youngjae quickly regained his spot.

10 metres.

wooyoung ran with a sudden burst of energy.

5 metres…

4…

3…

2…

1…

youngjae won.

you exhaled sharply. wooyoung turned to your direction, meeting your strained face. he turned away immediately.

your mother jerked her head once towards youngjae. you swallowed with difficulty, getting up from your throne and making your way over to him, passing by wooyoung in the process. you didn’t bother sparing him a single glance.

“congratulations, young lord park,” you spoke stiffly, tempted to tug your hand away from him as he held it up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it. “why, thank you, princess. do i get a prize now?” he barked out a greasy laugh, wiggling his eyebrows at you suggestively. “no,” you responded simply, retracting your hand from his grasp.

youngjae’s expression turned cold, his snarky attitude morphing into a disdainful one, “i see.” his eyes landed on wooyoung’s behind you, a smirk growing on his face. he looked back at you, “no worries, princess.”

you could practically see the gears running inside his head.

you found yourself sitting alone on the ground of your courtyard, a book perched on your lap. no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t focus on its contents. your mind was befuddled from the idea of having to marry youngjae, given the chances of that happening was growing with the way he had won both contests, and was likely to win the third one. you shuffled further backwards, allowing the shadows of the large tree engulf you whole, hiding you away from even the stars’ sights. 

you closed the book, shutting your eyes briefly, focusing on the sound of crickets chirping quietly and the gentle swishing of the leaves, until the calmness was broken by two chittering servants walking past. you moved your ear to the general direction, hoping to eavesdrop in their conversation for some form of entertainment. 

“did you hear lord jung’s talk with his son earlier? what was his name again?” “wooyoung,” the other servant finished for her friend, “i did hear. miyeon told me everything. he said he didn’t want to marry the princess, right? that’s why he’s losing on purpose.” you faltered at that, did you truly read into his behaviour too much? “i know. so unexpected! the princess is one of the sweetest people i’ve ever met, why would he not want to marry her?” you smiled at the servant’s words, finding it refreshing to have a good reputation amongst the residents of the castle. 

“i suppose he thinks he’s too young to marry, and i agree with him. i mean, we’re both the same age as the princess, and i’d be mortified at the thought of having to marry so soon!” the two girls murmured in agreement, before the first servant continued, “i do feel horrible for the princess, though. she’s most likely to end up with the young lord park, and the heavens know what he’s doing to her.” your ears perked up, eyebrows furrowing over what she said. “what do you mean?” the second servant voiced your question out, seeming just as unaware as you. 

“have you not heard the rumours? he’s been telling everyone about how the princess approached him and has been in an attitude because he rejected her.” you sat up completely straight at that, fighting the urge to cry out in bewilderment. “how do you know it’s just a rumour?” “my brother was there at the dining hall that day. he himself served young lord jung his breakfast. young lord park was the one who was turned down by the princess.” the second servant scoffed quietly, “how pathetic of him!” 

“shush!” the first girl hissed, speaking much quieter now, “do not forget, we are still below the suitors, no matter how horrid they are. should they hear what we’re saying, they’ll come for our heads!” their retreating footsteps fade after a few seconds and you could only assume they had a silent exchange in glances to continue their gossip later, away from prying ears. you leaned back against the bark of the tree again. you had to tell jongho. 

you never got the opportunity to. your mother spent the entirety of the next morning dressing you up in extravagant wear, chiding you for not presenting yourself as desirable for the suitors earlier. you were reminded constantly by her that you would have to prepare to be a suitable wife for your husband soon, no matter who he will be. 

you didn’t see wooyoung either. he wasn’t present at breakfast nor did you see him during the time before the third and final contest; contrasting to youngjae, who seemed to be everywhere, flirting with the maids and proudly bragging about his archery skills, which was the sport of the day. chanwook stuck close to his father throughout the morning, whinging to him and looking like he was on the verge of tears. 

you felt your mother pat your cheek with her palm, driving you out of your thoughts. her lips were pursed into a tense line as she caressed your cheekbone back and forth, beginning to speak in a hushed tone, “i know you do not want any of this, my daughter, but you must also realise it is necessary. breaking this betrothal could harm our kingdom deeply, you know this.” you exhaled deeply, shutting your eyes in defeat, “i do.” she nodded once in satisfaction, stepping back and moving to leave your room, “i shall see you at the field in a while, then.”

moving to your window, your eyes scanned the large field below. it was filled with men from the three clans, servants and maids from your own castle, the three lords bickering with each other by the front, and their sons, the suitors, standing behind a white line, facing a target stood up at a long distance from him. you noticed wooyoung was on the field, fixing the bow in his hand. judging from his nervous stance, you suspected he was not experienced in archery. almost as if he could hear your thoughts, his head tilted up to the direction of your tower, until he met your shocked eyes through the glass window of your room. you immediately recoiled backwards until your back touched the wall opposite the window, a few metres away from where you were just now. you swallowed thickly out of nervousness before making your way down to the field.

the conversation between the two servants from last night still ran wild in your head. if what they said was true, if wooyoung was truly losing on purpose, then this contest is pointless, for chanwook stood no chance against youngjae. you feel the frustration inside your body bubbling up, though you suspect it was mixed with the bottled up dread and anger towards marrying a complete stranger, his obnoxious behaviour only adding to it. “hey,” jongho’s concerned voice rang in your left ear. you turned to look at his worried eyes, his hand reaching for your shoulder, “are you okay?” you batted his hand away with a reassuring smile, “i’m fine.” he was about to say more, but was interrupted by the loud bellow of the starting horn to indicate the beginning of the contest. knowing his personality, he would bug you about what was bothering you until you gave it up, though. 

youngjae pulled his string backwards, flexing his muscles intentionally to swoon the multiple servants standing behind him. deja vu kicked in for the second time when you saw wooyoung roll his eyes once again, and your frown morphed into a barely concealed smile subconsciously. before you realise it, youngjae had already released his arrow, landing on the red circle of the target, only a few centimetres away from the yellow centre. you were impressed by how he played off his embarrassment, however. he commented coolly about the scorching sun being in his eyes and locking eyes with wooyoung menacingly, almost daring him to do any better than him. 

you didn’t bother paying any attention to chanwook, only concentrating on wooyoung’s microexpressions. your attempts proved futile when he carried a blank face throughout chanwook’s failing try, the wailing boy scoring himself null points when his arrow landed nowhere near his target. you wished you could say you ignored wooyoung the same way you did to chanwook, but you couldn’t. you were transfixed on his smooth movements and the way he seemed to tug on the string of his bow with ease, youngjae’s sniggers having no effect on him whatsoever.

you’ve already planned out how your new life with youngjae would be. you would have to worship the grounds he walks on, praise his every miniscule movement even if it was something as simple as breathing, stand by his side permanently to make him look good-

your nightmarish thoughts were cut short by your father’s whoops, along with jongho jumping up as well, their excitement so contagious even your mother was unable to help but stand and clap. you instinctively followed her movements, moving up to your feet but raising an eyebrow in confusion, what were they cheering for? that was when you saw it. 

wooyoung’s arrow.

shot dead centre of the target.

you stared in astonishment, realising your previous assumptions about wooyoung being inexperienced had been entirely wrong. when you flickered your eyes to him, he was already watching you, and you would’ve said he was watching you emotionlessly had his sparkling eyes not given him away. you knew then, he was just as exhilarated as you were. 

“it does not matter, though, does it?” youngjae’s voice boomed over all the music and cheering. the field turned quiet once more as everyone listened intently to his echoing words. “i won the first two contests. i win overall, no?” there were a series of agreeing murmurs, wooyoung’s bright eyes flashing with worry over them. “no.” for a moment, you wondered where the voice came from, until you realised from all the peering eyes that you were the one who spoke out. 

you breathed in deeply, stepping down from the small platform and out into the sun, walking slowly and steadily towards the suitors. your mind was screaming for you to turn back around, to accept your fate with youngjae, to listen to your mother and simply be the perfect wife; but your heart overrode every indecisive word in your brain. “it wouldn’t be fair on woo- on young lord jung to discredit this spectacular win,” you gestured to wooyoung’s arrow, mentally cringing over how over-dramatised your words are, yet they seemed to be convincing enough for the people, as another wave of murmurs came about. 

“princess-” “we shall have one final contest to determine the final winner,” you cut youngjae off short, finding delight in the way he begrudgingly shut his mouth. you allowed a few tense moments to pass before revealing, “a dance.” “a dance?!” he spluttered incredulously, spinning around to watch others’ reactions. “i don’t see a problem with it,” wooyoung retorted, speaking from behind him. “of course you don’t,” youngjae sneered at him. there was a deadly silence until your father clapped awkwardly, “well! if the princess decides on a dance, then a dance it shall be to decide the final suitor! whichever suitor– young lord park or young lord jung, wins the heart of our daughter shall be her future husband!” 

you sat on the stool by your vanity, putting on your accessories and checking yourself in the mirror, doing anything to calm down the nerves in your system and your pounding heart. you heard a knock from outside your bedroom door and you called them in. 

jongho, all dressed up in his princely attire, peeked around your door, coming inside and shutting the door behind him. he makes himself comfortable on the edge of your bed before opening his mouth, “choose jung.” you looked at him through your mirror wordlessly, before standing up to smooth out your grand ball gown. you dared yourself to ask, “why?”

jongho rolled his eyes, giving you an exasperated face, “i know you. you are my sister, after all. you like him.” he stood to help with your necklace when he saw you struggling, “besides, i hear things too, you know.” he didn’t need to say it aloud for you to know he was indicating the rumours youngjae started.

he stepped back, allowing you to turn around and look at him gratefully. “thank you, you can be really helpful sometimes when you’re not absolutely annoying.” he let out a loud laugh at your words, shrugging slightly. he held out his elbow for you to take, which you did, and he guided the both of you to the ballroom.

you loitered around the busy ballroom, eyes moving from one excited person to another. you were glad everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do the same when you couldn’t even find wooyoung. you already had a dance with youngjae earlier, and it was uncomfortable, to say the least. he spent the entire dance bragging to you about his achievements and gripping your waist tightly to bring your attention back to him whenever your eyes strayed. 

you were worrying endlessly over your fate. if, by the end of the night, wooyoung hadn’t come to find you and ask for a dance, youngjae would be the automatic winner by default. he would indeed be the final suitor and become your husband.

“may i have this dance?” someone tapped your shoulder gently. you spun around to meet wooyoung’s awaiting eyes, and words couldn’t describe the relief you felt seeing his now familiar smile. “you may,” you placed your hand on his outstretched one, following his steps to the centre of the ballroom.

you allowed a few uncomfortable moments to pass before blurting out, “why are you doing this?” the question you had been pondering for the past few hours would finally be answered now. wooyoung unintentionally clenched his hand resting on your waist at your words, before he relaxed once more, his fingers tracing circles around the area he just squeezed on accident. “should i not be?”

you pursed your lips at how vague his answer was. he noticed your reaction and modified it, “i meant, as a suitor, is that not what i am expected to do?” you contemplated whether to tell him what you heard from the servants or not, before deciding on a half-truth, “i suppose it was odd, considering what you said that morning and the unwillingness you had been carrying for the past week. it left the impression you were not looking to marry me…

wooyoung chuckled at your hesitance, choosing to answer you truthfully this time, “ah, i see. no, princess, i merely would not allow youngjae to stir up rumours about me cheating my way into winning, which caused my harsh reaction. i do apologise for that,” he flashed you a comforting smile, “and you should know, princess, i actually do enjoy sports quite a lot. ironically, i am the best at javelin throwing and archery. well, not so much in running.” you laughed softly at his last comment.

“i will admit, ashamedly, i had been pretending not to be the athlete my father promotes frequently– not at all to do with you, princess, of course. i simply was not sure i was ready to marry yet,” wooyoung paused for a couple of seconds, sucking in a deep breath through his teeth and continuing, “after the second contest, however, i’ve had a change of heart, you see. what young lord park said…” he shook his head in disappointment, “how could i let such a vile man marry the sweetest soul i’d ever met?” you found yourself shying into your figure at his comment, head lowering to look at his shoes until he squeezed your waist gently, causing you to look up at his endearing face again.

“but i suppose it all boils down to your decision now, does it not?” he tilted his head playfully, his eyes twinkling with mischief. neither of you had to voice out the fact that wooyoung had already won from the start.

networks: @kflixnet k-labels kbookshelf neverendingdreams-net straykidsland @k-films @pirateeznet

[miss-spookhead]

thinking about a Blast From the Past steddie au tonight. like, think about it for a second--steve as the sweet, well-meaning himbo raised in a fallout shelter and eddie as the cynic who shows him the world as it is:

The year was 1962, and an atomic bomb had just dropped on top of the Harrington household.

Okay, not really. It was actually a fighter jet that suffered a mechanical failure just above the little plot of land the Harringtons called their home, but Walter Harrington took it differently. Far differently.

See, the thing was that the man was living in a state of paranoid delusion over the Cold War--terrified of the possibility of an outright nuclear holocaust over the Cuban Missile Crisis and the Soviet Union. He had been carefully building a fallout shelter under his home for his wife and possible children to live in with the works--canned food, running water, and even a working television.

And one day they went in and simply never left. The explosion right when they closed the door was tangible proof that the nuclear war was happening right above them.

A few years later, around 1968, a baby boy was born in a fallout shelter with no one but his mom and dad to keep him company.

They raised Steve the best they could, even if Walter Harrington was a mad genius and Madeline Harrington was a borderline alcoholic. Even if the boy was living in a perfect little time capsule of the fifties and early sixties. Walter made sure to educate him right and teach him how to be a sociable gentleman--even if he had no idea what swear words or the concept of sex were. That was for another time. Although, twenty-four years came and went for Steve Harrington, his father still owes him 'another time'.

Steve Harrington grows twenty-four years in perfect seclusion, but that changes at the flick of a switch.

The year is 1992: supplies are dwindling Walter is growing sick, and Steve is tasked to bravely set foot in the nuclear fallout to retrieve more material. (The only reason why Walter assumes they can even get more stuff is because he observed the outside world when the shelter unlocked and mistook it as a post-apocalyptic mutant society.)

The moment Steve made it outside his little bubble, he was utterly fascinated by the world--how different the people were outside of his television and his little books, how bright the sky was outside, how the irritable man on the bus wouldn't accept the money he tried to give him, how the bus moved and didn't fling him right off his seat.

(He even saw an adult bookstore. Dad told him that those things were filled with poisonous gas. How were they even to operate if they were filled with poisonous gas? That's dangerous and totally inconsiderate of the general public's safety.)

Anyway, he tries to follow the grocery list that Mom and Dad gave him the best he can, stocking up on poultry and tissue paper and the works. But by the end of the day, he doesn't know where he came from. Not a single sign or building or person can give him a single clue where to go.

After a few hours of wandering, suitcase in hand, he comes across a store with WE BUY BASEBALL CARDS written on the window.

Golly, Steve loves baseball cards--could look at Dad's collection for hours, and with the collection he has, he could make a pretty penny selling them for supplies. Despite the little hobby store being beside an adult bookstore with poisonous gas, he scampers right in.

"I see you're looking to buy baseball cards," he says breezily to the gruff, scary-looking man behind the counter.

"That I am," he replies.

Steve pulls a few from his jacket's inner pocket. "Well, these are a bit old, you see, but I was hoping you still might be interested."

The gruff man yanks them from his hands, a spark in his eye. He looks delighted to see them, and it fills Steve with an excitement he hadn't felt at all today. Nobody has been this happy over something he's done today. "Woah," he gasps, then covers it with a cough. "Mickey Mantle rookie season...how much do you want?"

"I was hoping to sell all of my cards, actually!"

The man sputters incredulously. "All of 'em? Are you fucking with me?"

"I'm not sure what that means, but all I have are hundred-dollar bills and I need something smaller. Like, uh...ones, tens, fives..."

"Tell you what, I'll give you five hundred in small bills for all you got."

Steve smiles brightly. "Oh, that would be wonderful, sir--"

"Five hundred for a case-full of rookie season Mickey Mantles, Rick, are you fucking joking?" A deep voice cuts through Steve's thanks from the other side of the small store. He turns around to find a man leaning against a magazine rack, arms folded sternly.

The man is unlike Steve's ever seen before. Long, long limbs and big brown eyes that look traced with black and smudged around the edges. Pretty lips, too almost girl-ish, in the way they were big and plush like the women he'd see on the television. The strangest thing about him, though, was the curly hair that tumbled past his shoulders.

He looked mad, though. Madder than mad.

"Tell the poor guy you're fucking with him," long-hair-pretty-lips says to the man behind the counter, who bristles.

"Were you raised in a fucking barn, Munson? Who told you to interrupt on business?" Rick counters. Steve was really not appreciating the amount of f-words dropped in the conversation, it was uncouth.

"Sure I was!" Munson saunters towards the counter and Steve's eyes follow him like a moth to a light. "But my morals go past your business practices at this point. You remember the ninth commandment, yeah?"

"You shut your Goddamn mouth--"

"Excuse me sir, but I really don't appreciate how you're using the Lord's name in vain like that," Steve says firmly.

"See?" Munson smiles. It's like sunlight. "He gets it."

He plucks the baseball card from Rick's hand and holds it over his head when he tries to reach for it again. "See this little thing?" He says to Steve sweetly. "This guy costs six grand alone."

"Get out of town! Really?"

"Oh yeah, big guy. Selling the thing would give you a small fortune, and Rick over here is trying to con you out of it."

Steve frowns. "Is that true?" He asks Rick.

"Nothing but," Munson says in place of him. He slips the card back into Steve's hands and gives them a pat.

"The Hell is even keeping you here, Munson?" Rick sneers. "Did the gig you won't shut up about fall through like they usually do? Better to bum it out here than in your shithole apartment? Stop loitering in my damn store and make like a fucking tree. You're banned."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," Munson says rolling his eyes. He looks at Steve, then the door, gesturing at it with a flick of his head. "I'll see you out, Beaver."

He walks them both out the door, stopping to gesture at Rick strangely--hands balled into fists with only his middle fingers up--before stepping outside onto the sidewalk.

"Well merci, Monsieur," Steve says appreciatively, because Dad taught him French was always to be used on such occasions.

"What, you're French?"

"Oh no, I'm"--he thinks back to what Dad told him if a mutant asks where he's from. Gosh, he thinks he's supposed to be--"out on business."

"And you don't even have a clue about the little business trick that Rick tried to pull?"

"No...no, I--"

"Yeah, doesn't matter." Munson shrugs. He smiles sympathetically at Steve before turning on his heel and walking off. Oh boy, what would he do without him?

He follows him like a lost puppy, that's what.

"...You going the same way?" Munson asks incredulously. Steve shakes his head.

"Well, I'm following you."

Munson stops in his tracks, blinking, and Steve almost runs into him in his state. "Me?"

"Well yes! Where are we going?"

"We?" Munson asserts. "I'm going back to my shithole apartment, and judging by that jacket you're wearing, you should be taking the next left and hop-skipping straight to the barber college."

"Oh, I'm lost, though."

"Aren't we all?"

"Say, did you just get banned from that hobby store because of me?" Steve says to change the subject.

Munson sighs. "Seems like I did, sailor. The place was shitty anyways, with that dickhead running the operation. Wayne could get better cards from a different joint."

...dickhead? Steve's never heard that leave the seams of anyone's lips before. "Dickhead?"

"Yeah, he's a real fucking loser. A walking talking penis capable of human speech."

Steve gets queasy at the image he's concocted in his head. He leans against the nearest brick wall, his suitcase tumbling to the ground as he drops into a contemplative squat.

"Dude, what is wrong with you?"

"Well, the mental image that I..."

Munson's eyebrows scrunch before he reaches out a hand to Steve. He takes it, letting the man haul him upward. "Look, man, where'd you park your car?"

"I came by bus."

"Aren't you full of surprises."

"I am?"

"Okay look." Eddie raises his hands, palms splayed in the air. "It's your first time in Los Angeles, right? Everyone wants a taste of it, I know, and you're out for business and fucking famished. You got the opportunity to see the great big world outside of your little bubble and you got excited--but you took a bus and got mixed up in the middle of San Fernando Valley without a clue in the world. Am I correct?"

Steve listens in wonderment. So far, Munson's been correct in a way. He's convinced he might be psychic. He nods slowly and seriously just to see Munson flash that lighting-strike smile.

"Great, great. Which brings us to here. Correct again?"

"Oh yeah."

"Where are you staying?"

Nowhere, at the moment. Steve opens his mouth to say so, but Munson interrupts quickly. "Holiday Inn?"

"Yes, the Holiday Inn!" Steve says totally truthfully.

"Okay, cool. Cool." Munson claps his hands together with finality and starts walking. "The nearest bus station is a couple of blocks away if you take a right--"

"Don't you have a car?"

Munson stops in his tracks again. He turns to face Steve once again. "What's your name, sweetheart?"

Something warm pools in Steve's gut at the pet name. Something about the way those pretty lips form that word sends blood rushing to his cheeks. "Steve," he says.

"Alright, Steve." Oh boy, his name sounds even better when Munson says it. "Rule number one in Los Angeles? Never let a stranger drive you anywhere."

"If it makes you feel any better," Steve says sweetly, "I don't have a gun."

Munson pales, then starts running.

"Hey!" Steve cries and makes haste to follow him. "I must've said something wrong, please forgive me!"

"Nope, nope--get the fuck away from me, man!"

He grabs Munson's wrist to pull him back, which is a bad move since the man starts writhing around in his grip. "I'm not going to hurt you, sir!"

Steve drops Munson's hand and raises his in surrender. "See?"

"...Just let me get to my car."

"I'll give you a Rogers Hornsby if you take me to my hotel," Steve reasons.

Munson stills. "...That's like four grand, don't bullshit me."

He pulls the card from his jacket and presents it as evidence. "See? I was holding it back." He wants Munson to feel safe. "I got two." He reaches for the other cards in his pockets and pulls them out. "And-and all these other ones, too!"

"Okay, okay. You'll give me four thousand dollars if I drive you to your place?"

"Uh-uh!"

"That's it?"

"Yep."

"And I don't have to give you a quickie in the backseat or anything?"

"Yes sir--wait, what?"

Munson blows past his question like it didn't even leave Steve's mouth. "Can you stop with the sir crap?"

"Well, I'm sorry, sir--"

"My name is Eddie."

Eddie...Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. Wow, what a name. It's almost like something he's heard on the television.

"Why, it's nice to meet you, Eddie."

"Tolerable to meet you too, Steve."

Steve smiles shyly, then asks, "So are you a girl?"

"Excuse me?"

"Well it's just your hair...it's so long." Steve points at his as an example. "I've never seen anything like it before."

"Dude, it's 1992, every other guy looks like this--have you been living under a rock or something?"

Something like that. Steve shrugs.

"Well guys having long hair doesn't mean that they're girls, Steve, that's a given. It's not 1962 anymore." Eddie backtracks. "Well, I mean, dudes can have long hair and be chicks and chicks can be dudes too but that's not--"

"Oh, wow, my dad told me about one of those the last time he went here!"

"Oh that's fantastic, sweetheart," Eddie says, sugary-sweet. "But how about I drive you home?"

"That'd be a pleasure, Eddie."

[robotpussy]

Ngozi Onwurah's White Men Are Cracking Up uses a murder mystery to explore the legacies of British colonialism and the exoticization of Black women [x]

White Men Are Cracking Up (1994) dir. Ngozi Onwurah

[wronghands1]

[byeletty]

Please Don't Feed the Children seems chill.

[oswincoleman]

Finally we have a synopsis for Jenna Coleman’s new film: All Of You, and a mention of her role in the film:

All of You drops us in a virtually indistinguishable near-future, where people have the option to seek out their soulmate by way of an unexplained eye test. It’s not mandatory, but millions opt in to find their alleged true love, leaving Simon (Goldstein) conflicted when his best friend Laura (Poots) decides to partake. Over the course of the next several seasons of their lives, Simon watches as Laura builds a life with her supposed soulmate, Lukas (Steven Cree), and Simon attempts to find his own lover in other women (Zawe Ashton and Jenna Coleman). As they begin to acknowledge that their years of friendship have undeniably become something more, Simon and Laura are forced to deal with the complications of their entangled lives.

[westmeath]

Peter O'Toole and Philippe Noiret in Murphy's War, 1971

[marbere]

What is the like context/description for it and also the title ? For it

Hellooo thanks for asking!

I have two options for the title:

Bonds Beyond Blood or Gotham's Dark Alliance.

Thing is, I think the second one implies that it's much darker than it actually is lol

And for the context...

Vampires. Raven is a vampire and Damian is a vampire hunter.

Yup. I feel that that's enough 😬

Hopefully I'll post it sooner rather than later

[splorpo]

Thoughts on Goncharov?

Yes, there are nuanced themes regarding the unacknowledged yet ever-present American influence in an Italy previously ravaged by war, and we could dissect how carefully those are threaded into the narrative all day, but I really want to turn everyone’s attention to the actual craft of the film. While the pacing is not perfect, the filmmaking itself is phenomenal.

Everyone likes to bring up the scene at the clocktower. Clock symbolism. Time symbolism. Numbers ticking down. A truly fantastic sequence, yet I don’t think I’ve seen any actual discussion of how deeply integral the circle is to the visual language of the film. Everything about the frame is circular—honing in on Goncharov like a predator stalking its prey. There is a subtle tightening of the frame up until we hit that famous tower sequence and it explodes into a relentless torrent of shots wider than any we have seen before. And this scene too is cyclical in nature; though Goncharov and Andrey pursue each other across its winding steps and terraces, this is not where their confrontation takes place, as each seems to outpace the other around every new turn, as they have for years. It becomes unclear who is pursing who.

And this is for a very specific purpose, as it is where the narrative folds in on itself and the seed of doubt is planted. Maybe Katya left him for a reason. Maybe Andrey has, all this time, been consumed with righteous rage. Maybe Goncharov is as unreliable a narrator as the camera.

When the two finally meet again it is in Goncharov’s office. Andrey sneaks in through the window and we finally get that scene we’ve been waiting on the edge of our seats for. But it is quiet, and solemn. Sort of sad. And beautiful in the ways that it deepens those shades of gray—refusing any clear-cut answers as to who exactly its protagonist really is, the scene itself mirroring the exact staging of the very first shot of the film, where Goncharov sits at his desk, smoking alone. From that first frame, the clock on the wall looms over him, silently whispering that his days are numbered. After all, a clock only stops when it dies.

This is maybe one of the most fascinating and wonderfully constructed films about a character living on borrowed time—a concept that is fully embodied in every aspect of its filmmaking. Really grateful that people dug this one up and inspired me to rewatch it! It is a masterclass in visual storytelling, which in itself is intriguing, as a lesser film would certainly have gotten bogged down in the talky-ness and intrigue of its premise.

[gorgynei]

theres a werewolf santa movie coming out in november werewolf fans we are so back

[dancingdorito]

i have thoughts on the leaked photos from bath today

we've SEEN this dress before... (season 1 episode 2)

so i honestly think this can't be a flashback because nicola's makeup is too nice to be s1 penelope.

i think that this is penelope's first attempt at trying to change her look, and the reason why it looks bad is to show us that she's going to fail at her first attempts to find suitors because she was never confident in the ill fitted dresses portia made her wear.

i think that the poodle hair is not as "poodle-y" as s1 and you can tell because the curls are bigger.

obviously this is all speculation, but i would also like to point out to people worried about filming delays...

the "bridgerton-verse" is made up of a LOT of locations, many of which are not even near london. to film a scene episode by episode would take too much travel and too much time, so they film by location even if the scenes are out of order, so that they can use these areas and be done with them instead of repeatedly coming back. so yes, these images are most likely the first episode, but that does not mean they are extremely far behind. big productions like bridgerton use a lot of crew and to move everything around and film in order is near impossible.

obviously i could very well be wrong, but i thought i'd put my two cent in. i'm still a firm believer that they'll finish filming in february at the latest and we'll get season 3 around june/july.

[cruelnemothesis]

I will drop my graduation short film on the floor on July 07th.

[dagss]

en train de regarder cannibal holocaust et ça m'ENERVE tellement ; on part sur une vraie sale note et vraiment je regrette d'avoir choisi ce film au pif sans me renseigner

[msclaritea]

Mike Flanagan and Trevor Macy of Flanagan Film, I hope you, artist Michael Whelan and Stephen King don't think that I've forgotten about all of this. That painting, Deschain, was created right at the beginning of the sham. And the thing about Dark Tower, which no matter how it's adapted, it's never been very successful, is that it has a very similar theme to The Power of The Dog; "...a gunslinger in a world which has moved on" is quite similar to a cowboy, whose time has moved on. Benedict Cumberbatch, and his likeness has been fraudulently used by King and his cohorts, to try and boost this series. Interesting synopsis of a man alone, who lost his friends and headed towards "...the end of the line". Sounds too, too fucking familiar.

[hubba1892]

„Und Sie? Polizistin aus Leidenschaft?“ „Manche Dinge sucht man sich nicht aus, die wird man einfach.“