#one of the best films of the decade in fact

[little-one-eyed-monsters]

Not even as a BL fan. I say this as a Film Nerd. As someone who works in this industry. As an Assistant Director myself (I'm trying to make myself sound better than I actually am, I'm sorry. I only work for a local channel that produces small scale shows. This is a small opinion at best). STILL, as a critic:

True to its title, Top Form should be the standard of the BL genre.

Directing, cinematography, the script's pacing-- topnotch. Director P'Boss studied his craft well and it shows. He wasn't insistent on his own technique; he pulled inspiration from other cinematic greats and took which elements he thought would work best for the project. He depicted the script from its core message instead of at face value. But best of all, P'Boss did not pander to popular trends and what he thought would sell well to the BL audience. He would show this larger-than-life premise in the most human way possible, however imperfect and difficult that might be.

But what made this series a true standout? TRULY BREATHTAKING ACTING.

Never have I seen two BL actors CONSISTENTLY complement each other's style, technique, and energy until Smart and Boom graced our screens, and this doesn't even factor in the artfully-executed love scenes. I've seen a lot of talented BL actors who fall flat once they act in pairs, but Smart and Boom matched each other perfectly in each step, that it felt like a beautifully-executed dance. Their chemistry was just so NATURAL since the first episode, but it's not the usual chemistry that demands irresistible desire or attraction. Instead, it's electric-- something that hangs in the air and makes you constantly anticipate what comes after, whether good or bad. They're so good, they made the clunkier parts of the script still flow smoothly with the rest of the plot.

Smart and Boom are the only two BL actors in the industry who have proven to me that they know their characters better than ANYONE, better even than their scriptwriters and director. Their portrayals felt so REALISTIC, so relateable, so believable, that I had to pause during one episode to just-- realign myself to the fact that Jin and Akin do not exist. That these stakes are non-existent. That their love isn't something I can help fight for because it's fiction.

And all this from two actors with very minimal credits to their name, who've never met before, who share dissimilar traits and personalities, and aged a decade apart from each other. No workshop could ever achieve this. This was just God-given acting talent at its finest hour.

If Top Form doesn't win any awards this year or the next, then it sadly means that it was ahead of its time. The show was a masterclass in cinema, but I doubt a lot of people will be able to realize that. Fans will remain for the candy, not the arthouse after all.

But I feel it in my heart that it will win something, anything. It will boomerang wonderful careers for the whole Top Form team. It will be a sensation talked about for years to come-- as it should be.

[shiveringsoldier]

I saw Nickel Boys yesterday and woke up thinking about it. Please see it if it's playing in your area

[celesterayel]

the it couple | luke castellan

request: I’m not really sure what qualifies as a request but could you write a Luke x reader where they are like the camp it couple? 🫶🫶

summary: common knowledge is how irrevocably in love luke castellan is with you.

"you know i adore you, i'm crazier for you than i was at sixteen lost in a film scene" - t.s.

w.c. : 702

warning(s) : none

pairing : luke castellan x reader

the campers of camp half blood don't quite remember how or when it had happened. It just always was: you and Luke Castellan, that is. where you went, he followed. the shadow to your guide and you the balm to his sorrow. annabeth used to whisper to the younger children–the ones who had been taken to camp far too young and therefore had little knowledge of love–that you and Luke Castellan were soulmates: seamlessly bound to one another. 

you yourself had never believed in fate despite the fact that you had met them–old bitter hags. you preferred to believe that life was not set in stone, unbreaking and withered to a timeline. it perhaps led to your brash attitude and ‘ride or die’ mentality but your mannerisms only made luke castellan fall in love with you all the more. some things were just beyond the gods' control. you and luke were one of those things.

you had first arrived at camp a decade ago, where you were then claimed by hades. of course news of you spread like wildfire: you were gorgeous, your talent with your bo staff was unmatched, and your father was one of the three–strong power ran through your blood and you showed it everyday during training. but that wasn���t exactly what caught the attention of everyone, rather the fact that the popular gaze of a certain brown-eyed boy always strayed to you. when you laughed, he smiled. where you went, he strayed. you were magnet and he was never far away.

you both tipped toed around one another, constantly drifting toward the other. playful banter slipped between you two and those around you wondered when you would finally just get together. the first time you guys finally breached the delicate line between more than ‘obviously pining friends’ was after an exciting rivalry game.

despite the strategic planning of annabeth–who clearly eyed the tension between the two of you–and the excellent swordsmanship, house ares had won the game because of you. You had been the one to distract luke castellan after clarisse had forced you to use your charms. it was fun to see the cute blush adorn his cheeks when you approached the head of the Hermes House.

“so, does this mean you agree to go out with me?” he breathed out, hands twirling his sword as he was once again bested by you in capturing the flag.

you laughed out, “i was just waiting for you to ask, castellan.”

no sooner after you had begun dating did the infamy of you two reach an all high around camp. how could it not? 

you two were the all anyone could talk about–the best of the best.

luke castellan was already the best swordsman at camp; a prodigy in the making. his brown curls and dimples only made him more popular among the girls and young teens. he was one of the highest placed leaders around camp; one of the few that clarisse actually respected and the one that annabeth regarded most. 

you were a gem in the rough: bold and brash at times, but calculating and quick-witted. you were the one to turn to when those around camp felt alone, always ready to take care of others and offer words of wisdom. you were a living definition of rules being broken and your power only highlighted the height of your placement around camp. 

when you two walked by, the eyes of the others strayed. newcomers learned of your names before they learned what exactly camp half blood was. 

when you threw your head back and laughed, people watched as Luke curled his lips in pride at being the one behind your laughter. when he sat round the fire and sang songs with the campers, you sat right beside him; head laying on his shoulder and hoping the moment would never end. he willingly allowed himself to lose camp games if only by your hand, time and time again.

yes, you were the it couple of camp half blood but none of that mattered, when he was the one for you.

[htaesan]

　ᅠ ✿　ᅠ REWIND TO YOU 　　────　ᅠ ( myung jaehyun )

𝓹recis ⠀ : ⠀your reunion with one of the most important people in your life, myung jaehyun, was not like what you hoped for at all. instead of a heartwarming session of two best friends meeting each other after a decade of lost contact, you’re facing a person who seemed to forget a meaningful childhood spent together, like it meant nothing at all.

　　　ᅠ 명재현 ⠀⠀◜◡◝ ⠀⠀𝒇 shy!reader ⠀wc 14.6k ⠀ genre fluff angst childhood friends to lovers high school au ⠀ contains mentions of food skinship random ocs some bnd members and shinyu ⠀ tagging @a-dream-bookmark ,@/k-labels , @k-nets , @k-films , @sgz-net , @onedoornet

　　　ᅠ 　　　ᅠ BEST ENJOYED WITH .. l i f e i s c o o l by boynextdoor, amnesia by boynextdoor, in bloom by zerobaseone, teenage dream by stephen dawes, unfinished business by neriah, if i say i love you by boynextdoor, old with you by grentperez, but you by ikon & serenade by boynextdoor

　　　ᅠ note ᅠ from ᅠ 𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐈 ! ᅠ i hope all of you enjoy this spin i made out of the usual childhood friends to lovers trope! and soph.. i dedicate this to you (Pls Spare me), and if you ask, yes i will dedicate every single leehan and myungjae fic to my wifey!

　　　ᅠ ＞︿ 　　please leave feedbacks 　　& 　　reblog

 “I HATE YOU, MYUNG JAEHYUN!”

Your screams echoed through the playground, accompanied by Jaehyun’s loud giggles. You took a deep breath as you chased him around, your hair flying behind you. Jaehyun had ‘cheated’ when the two of you were playing hide and seek a few minutes ago—he went on asking around the other kids if they had seen you. And one of the stupider kids did tell him that he saw you inside the slide. 

Jaehyun was quickly out of breath as he was laughing his heart out while running, and you caught up to him pretty quickly. You launched yourself at him, tackling him to the ground. You hit his chest several times, pouting. 

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” Jaehyun said, blocking your hits. His laughter died down, but that insufferable grin was still glued to his face. He was obviously loving all the attention he’s getting from his best friend—even though she’s sitting on top of him, sulkily pinning him to the ground. 

“It’s unfair,” you huffed. You eventually stopped hitting him, but you were still a little upset. How could Jaehyun win, especially by cheating?

“I’m sorry, Sunshine,” he said, his dreadful smirk morphing into a small yet soft smile. “You’re just too good at hide-and-seek.”

“That doesn’t mean you can cheat,” you replied, a pout still evident in your expressions. 

Jaehyun pursed his lips, and for a while, he stayed silent—the gears in his brain working to think of a solution for you. “What about this—let’s go to the convenience store and buy some Pepero or whatever you want. It’s on me!”

You couldn’t stop a smile from erupting on your face. The key to your heart was the simplest thing in the entire world: food, and Jaehyun knew this—and he often used this fact to its fullest potential. It didn’t really help that he’s your best friend, too, so he clearly knew what your favourites were. You weren’t exactly complaining, though. Jaehyun liked to tease you, and as compensation for making you a little pouty, he’d buy or offer you some food.

A win-win situation for seven-year-olds.

“Okay!” you agreed cheerfully. 

And that’s how you found yourself, happily munching on Pepero and chocolate churro chips on the way back to the playground from the store. Jaehyun walked next to you, holding a bunch of candy in his hands. 

You were munching on your snacks, and were just about to thank him for the Pepero when Jaehyun leaned in, stealing a big bite of the Pepero from your hand. 

You shrieked in shock, pouting after realising what had happened. 

“Jaehyun!” you whined, hitting his arm.

Jaehyun giggled. “You snooze, you lose,” he teased with a stupid grin. 

You crossed your arms, huffing. “Some best friend you are.”

Jaehyun’s grin immediately faltered. He quickly broke the chocolate chip cookie he was nibbling on in half, handing you the bigger piece. “Here. Best friends share, right?”

You eyed him rather suspiciously before taking it. “Fine. But you owe me for life.”

“How does that work?” Jaehyun asked, tilting his head slightly. 

“We’d have to be best friends forever,” you replied. The look on your face was enough to tell how serious you meant your words, even for a first grader. “That way, you can always buy me food every day.”

“What if… I won’t be here tomorrow?” Jaehyun asked. You immediately turned to him, confused. That wasn’t what you expected from him as an answer. 

You took a minute of munching through your chips for you to analyse Jaehyun’s doubtful expression. “What are you talking about? Don’t be silly,” you shoved his shoulder. “You’re always here.”

Jaehyun smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Then, promise me—let’s be best friends,  no matter what happens.”

You paused, staring right into his eyes.  

Jaehyun looked at you, his face mixed with some kind of fondness and amusement. “Promise me, Sunshine?” he asked, holding out his pinky in a solemn promise. “Best friends forever.”

You returned his gaze, a smile forming on your face as you linked your pinky with his, sealing the promise without a second of hesitation. “Always.”

The words echoed in the air, and from the way the winds caressed your skin, it’s like the universe had taken note of your promise to each other. 

However, you were completely unaware that this would be the last day you’d spend with him. 

The next afternoon, after completing tasks that your mother had told you to do, you rushed to Jaehyun’s house—a few mere blocks away—with a bag of homemade cookies in hand. A big smile was painted across your face, you were excited to surprise Jaehyun with the sweet treats that you had baked with your mother last night. 

But something was wrong. 

The front yard, usually scattered with Jaehyun’s soccer balls and bicycles, was oddly empty. The windows were shut tight, and the driveway—where his father’s car was always parked—was vacant. 

You felt your heart thump hard against your chest. Your grip on the paper bag tightened, and you approached the front door. 

You knocked. 

Nothing. 

“Jaehyun?” 

You knocked again, harder this time. 

“Myungjae? It’s me, Y/N–”

“Sweetheart? Who are you looking for?” 

You turned towards the voice straight away. It was the old lady who lived next door, the one who always made sure to give you and Jaehyun a popsicle whenever you two passed by her house. She had a gentle yet unreadable smile on her face. You ran up to her, head spinning with a dozen questions. 

“Where’s Jaehyun?” you asked her. 

“My dear…” she began, her voice soft. “Jaehyun left early this morning.”

You blinked. The words were heavy, but you couldn’t understand what they meant. “Left? Where?”

“They moved away.”

Nothing made sense. Jaehyun moved? No one had said anything about moving. 

You looked back towards Jaehyun’s house, hoping that the door would swing open and that he would come running towards you, grinning like he always did. 

But he didn’t come. 

The house was quiet, empty. 

Your throat tightened. “But he promised to play. He said he would… stay.”

The lady kneeled in front of you, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “I’m so sorry, my dear.”

You bit your lips, and you didn’t realise you were crying until you tasted salt on your lips. 

Later that evening, you had found yourself wandering back to the playground, the noisy chatter of kids playing around fading into the background. The paper bag still in hand, you walked around aimlessly. You could still hear Jaehyun’s laughter ringing in your ears, the sound of your footsteps blending with his as you two ran around. 

Jaehyun was gone.

And he didn’t even say goodbye. 

You sat down at a bench overlooking the playground where the two of you always played, staring at the place where you both had linked pinkies and made a promise. A promise you had believed in with all your heart.

A promise that, it seemed, only you remembered.

“I’LL see you after school, sweetie,” your father says into your hair. You set your lips into a line, nodding timidly. 

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” your mother asks, appearing from behind your father. “We can always accompany you to school–”

“Darling,” your father reminds your mother by putting a gentle hand on her arm. “Our Y/N will be fine. She’s almost eighteen now, I’m sure she can handle it all.” 

You give your parents a reassuring smile before walking away, each step bringing you uncomfortably away from home.

The morning felt weird, anyway. You’re here, in a new school, in a state you’ve never set foot to before. The air here feels like a heavy fog, clinging to your chest as you stand in front of the towering school building. You could feel the weight of an agonising unknown pressing down on you. It’s a sensation that you could never get used to, despite the sun peeking through the clouds, and the bustling cacophony of students around you. You stand at the gates, fingers tightly grasping the straps of your backpack. You take a deep breath, remembering your mother’s advice to help overcome your nerves. 

You walk into your new school, the new feeling of being somewhere so unfamiliar enveloping you. It feels different from the school you left behind—the campus is bigger here, the hallways seemed endless and much wider, and each turn made you feel like you’re lost in a looping maze. They even have a separate building for the library.

You find your footsteps slowing down as you reach the middle of the common area, unsure of where you should go. Your eyes dart here and there, desperately trying to find some kind of clue that could help you. 

You had always been the quiet one, preferring to keep to yourself, listening more than you talked, the one that often found herself slipping to the background of a party and corner of classrooms. Currently surrounded by boisterous students, each seeming to know what they’re doing, you feel slightly overwhelmed. The school map you opened on your phone suddenly feels too complicated for you to understand. 

Suddenly, something solid crashes against the back of your head, causing you to stumble forward, the impact hard enough to make the books you’re holding fall to the ground. 

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry!”

You turn to reply, but find your words stuck in your throat. 

A tall guy in a basketball jersey stands before you, his hair tousled in an athletic tangle. He picks up the ball—the solid object that hit the back of your head a moment ago—and scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. He gives you a sheepish smile, trying his best to convey how sorry he is—but you’re too focused on his sharp features and messy brown hair. It’s all too familiar. 

Myung Jaehyun. 

Before you could say anything, he leans down and picks up your books. He hands them to you, a charming smile replacing whatever backward expression he had earlier. “Careful there, newbie,” he says, teasing. “Wouldn’t want to be trampled on your first day here, no?”

You take your books from him, dazed. 

He doesn’t recognise you. 

You watch as he jogs back to his friends, spinning the orange ball in his hands. You stand there, exactly where he left you, unsure of what to do next. 

YOU’RE sitting alone at lunch, perfectly at peace with your packed lunchbox. You sit quietly, not wanting to stand out. This is your first day at a completely new school, and the last thing you want is to make yourself the centre of attention. 

Unfortunately, fate had written that this was your first mistake. 

You’re about to enjoy your lunch in the comfort of solitude, a figure that you didn’t expect to see, again, slips into the seat in front of you.

“Hey, newbie,” you hear Jaehyun say as he takes a seat. “Eating alone?”

You simply nod, not knowing what to say. 

“So, um,” Jaehyun finds himself stuttering after not receiving a reply from you. “You’re the new student, right? That explains the self-introduction in class just now.”

You nod again. Seeing the pitiful look on his face, masked poorly by a confident demeanor, you decide to reply. “Yes. I just moved here.”

Jaehyun’s face lights up like a lightbulb. 

“I’m Jaehyun, if you didn’t know that,” he grins. “I’m in your homeroom! My seat is behind you.”

You noticed that, of course. Who wouldn’t recognise someone whose laugh echoed throughout the room, brightening the atmosphere like the rays of a bright spring morning?

You give him a small smile. 

“Your seatmate, Sanghyeok, is my friend! He told me you seemed… er, lonely,” he hesitates for a while, “so I came up with a genius plan,” Jaehyun reveals with a grin that you’re a bit too familiar with. 

He’d always flash that big smile towards you whenever he wanted to propose a plan, but didn’t really want to take credit for it, in case it was a little too ridiculous. 

“What is it?” you reply. 

“We should be friends,” Jaehyun responds, and your eyes widen almost immediately. 

What does he mean by that?

Your heart begins to race, not just because you’re shocked to see Jaehyun, who was once the most important person in your life, after so many years—but from the fact that he naturally is taking charge, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Like it came to him with no hesitation. 

“It’s all good! I talked to my friends—Sanghyeok, Sungho, Yoona and Minji—about this, and they all seem pretty cool about it.”

“Oh,” is all you’re able to manage. Everything is moving a little too briskly, and you’re feeling a bit dizzy from how fast things are escalating. 

You feel your brain short-circuiting. 

Just like that?

No hesitation? No ‘wait, Y/N? Is that you?’? No recognition?

You swallow hard. 

“Thank you?” you say, wary. You take a small bite of your sandwich. “I appreciate it.”

“Of course,” Jaehyun beams, and as if on cue, he waves towards a group of people behind you. You turn around, eyes slightly bulging at the way Jaehyun’s friends are quickly approaching your table. You recognise Sanghyeok, naturally, and the girl with a bubbly smile that you assume would be Yoona, but the rest of his friends are new faces for you. 

Jaehyun barely left any room for you to process anything. 

As quickly as they came, the air begins to smell like snacks and sports equipment—a strangely uplifting scent. 

“Guys, meet Y/N!” Jaehyun announces as soon as his friends arrive, putting away their things. “She’s the new kid I told you guys about.”

You look at him for a few seconds. 

Jaehyun is beaming with a smile, and the way he introduced you with such confidence, like you’ve been best friends since forever, makes your heart thump in a weird way.

“Wow, that was fast,” the tall, broad shouldered boy comments, whistling playfully. “Already claiming her as one of us?”

Jaehyun puffs his chest out. “Of course, I have a talent for spotting good people–”

“Hi, nice to meet you, Y/N,” Yoona quickly says, rolling her eyes at Jaehyun. She takes the empty seat next to you. “We’re in the same homeroom. My name is Im Yoona.”

You give her a polite smile. 

A girl with sharp eyes and an amused smile displayed on her face slips into the seat next to Yoona. “So, did he actually ask if you’d like us to sit with you, or did he have you sit here unwillingly?”

You hesitate. “Unwillingly…?”

“Shut up, Minji,” Jaehyun grumbles as the entire group bursts into laughter. 

“That’s Jaehyun for you,” Sanghyeok, your desk mate, says to you. He then gives you a warm smile, just like earlier. “Do you like how KOZ Academy is so far?”

You take a little bite out of your sandwich. “It’s fine. I like how big the campus is.”

“That’s what I always brag about this school,” Minji, who’s been quiet for a while, adds in. The smile on her face is relaxed. “I’ve been here since freshman year, and I still can’t fathom the way we have a swimming pool and tennis courts.”

You nod enthusiastically, recalling how you did see the facilities she mentioned in the school map. 

“Speaking of that, should we give the newbie a tour of the school?” Jaehyun suggests, his face lightening up with excitement. He barely swallows his food as he’s giving you a bright, friendly grin. 

“You speak of her like she’s not in front of you,” the tall boy sighs. He turns to you, smiling apologetically. “I’m sorry. Y/N, isn’t it? I’m Sungho.”

You nod. “Yeah. Nice to meet you.”

“Do you want us to give you a tour of the school?” Yoona asks. She gestures to Jaehyun. “Don’t worry, this dumbass won’t be in charge of it.”

“Hey!” Jaehyun exclaims. 

“You’ll just show her the boring parts of school,” Minji chimes in. 

Jaehyun makes a bewildered expression. “I will not–!”

“Remember the time when Sanghyeok first came to this school? You showed him all the unnecessary classrooms that you didn’t have time to show him where the lunch card machine is,” Sungho adds, laughing.  

Jaehyun rolls his eyes. He passes you a snack. “You’re all so dramatic. Anyway,” he says, shifting his gaze to you. “Don’t mind them, Y/N. You’re welcome here—just sit back and relax.”

You nod, suddenly hyper aware of the fact that it’s the only reaction you’re able to give them so far. You’re not so sure that you’re able to relax when all these new faces have their eyes on you, but surprisingly, their energy isn’t too bad. It’s welcoming, bustling with a friendly spirit. It’s uncomfortable, sure, but it’s not unkind. 

Jaehyun passes you another snack he grabbed from Sanghyeok’s stash, and something in your chest begins to warm. 

Maybe it’s not too bad at all. 

THE next day feels like a dream. 

You arrive at school pretty early, and much to your surprise, you’re greeted warmly by Yoona, who also happens to arrive at the same time as you. She hops off the bus and jogs towards you, catching up to you as soon as you park your bicycle. 

“Good morning, Y/N,” she smiles at you. 

You mirror her expression. “Good morning.”

“It’s still early… Do you want to go to the common area?” Yoona suggests. “I’m sure the rest will already be there.”

You simply nod. “Cool. Let’s go.”

Yoona links her arm with yours, and together, you walk towards the common area. It’s bustling and loud despite it being only half past seven. Most of the energy radiates from Jaehyun and his group of friends: the boys are tossing a basketball up and down—even though they’re clearly indoors, and they shouldn’t be playing with a ball inside. Minji sits on the sofa nearby, leaning back as she lazily reads through a novel, completely unbothered with the ruckus around her. 

As soon as you arrive, Yoona puts her bag down, sitting down next to Minji and they both begin chatting about whatever topic that comes to mind. You, however, aren’t used to this kind of energy—fast-paced, full of jokes and friendly banter. You sit at the edge of the sofa, unsure of how you’d insert yourself into the conversation. 

Jaehyun, on the other hand, is thriving. As always. 

“Bet I can make the shot from here,” he brags, crumpling a snack wrapper in his hands. He gestures to the trash can, located at the far corner of the room. 

“No way,” Sungho scoffs. “That’s, like, ten feet away.”

“You’re all talk, MJ,” Sanghyeok chimes in, laughing. 

Jaehyun smirks, turning to you. “Yo, new kid. Believe in me?”

You meet his eyes, blinking profusely. “Uh…” 

The group laughs, and Jaehyun gives you an exaggerated gasp. He puts a hand over his chest in a dramatic manner. “Wow. The hesitation? I’m hurt.”

“Well–” you say, pausing. You’re unsure if you should say what your thoughts really are, or if you should play it safe. You bit your lip, suddenly feeling self-conscious of the way you’re sitting.

“You’ll miss, definitely,” you quietly mumble. 

For a second—one that felt way too long—Jaehyun stares. 

Then, he throws his head back, laughing his lungs out. “Yo, she’s got a bite! I like her.”

You gape at him, not knowing what to respond to the grin he flashed at you amidst his loud laughter. Your face begins to burn, but the others are nodding in approval.

“Good job,” Minji pats your shoulder. “You’re keeping him humble.”

Sanghyeok hands you a juice box, grinning like his gesture is a kind of initiation. “You’re officially one of us.”

You hesitate, but eventually accept it. 

“Told you you’d fit right in,” Jaehyun says, nudging your side as he grins. 

And just like that, you find yourself smiling back. 

YOU’RE not sure if it’s just you, or it’s that Jaehyun does not remember you at all. It has been quite a long time, you admit that, but you don’t think that it’s reasonable for someone to completely forget someone so important, no matter how long you’ve been without them.

So, for the following weeks, you decided to test the waters, to see if Jaehyun truly did forget you, that if you’re just a passing memory in his childhood. 

“Jaehyun!” you exclaim, running up to the soccer court. The boy perks up, his eyes lightening up as he watches you jog up to him. He was scrolling animatedly on his phone, but when he heard his name being called by you, whatever that he was interested in was tossed aside. 

“Are you done with soccer?” you ask, panting slightly. 

Jaehyun nods. 

“What’s up, newbie?” he then grins, wiping off his sweat using the towel hanging around his neck. 

You cringe slightly at the nickname. “I have a name, you know.”

Jaehyun laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, Y/N. What’s wrong though?”

“Nothing,” you reply. You then rummage through your backpack, bringing out a bunch of strawberry fruit roll-ups. You give Jaehyun a small smile before handing them to him. “Here, I thought you’d want them after practice.”

Jaehyun beams, delightfully grabbing the candies. He opens one of them, and when he’s about to put it in his mouth, he pauses mid-action. His eyes turn straight to you, looking fixedly into your gaze. “Wait.” 

You bite the bottom of your lips, trying to contain yourself. 

“What?”

“How’d you know I like these?”

Your eyes bulge slightly, and you quickly purse your lips together to mask a smile. You knew Jaehyun liked these—ever since you started being friends with him, he had made it clear that he liked everything and anything that tastes like strawberries. You remember spending a lot of time in your childhood, trying the various breeds of strawberry, as well as strawberry candies and snacks that Jaehyun had shared with you; and over time, you just naturally knew specifically what he liked.

And turns out, the five foot seven inches high school senior that’s standing in front of you with a baffled expression on his face still does like strawberry flavoured things. 

He is the Myung Jaehyun that your heart holds dear, even after so many years. 

You shrug. “Just a feeling.”

Jaehyun places the fruit roll-up in his mouth, his gaze still trained on you. In his eyes, you can see that he’s questioning your words. But as the candy melts in his mouth, the doubt begins to dissipate, and his charming smile reappears. 

“Thank you,” Jaehyun’s grin twinkles. He grabs another candy and pops it into his mouth.

“These things are crazy—I can’t get enough of how good they taste!” he begins to chatter as he packs his things, his movement as swift as the speed of the words coming out of his mouth. When he’s done, he stands up straight and looks towards you, the expression in his eyes cheerful and full of energy. 

“Let’s go?” Jaehyun prompts. 

You adjust your backpack’s straps on your shoulders. “Go… where?”

“Home?” Jaehyun replies, perching up his eyebrow. He looks at you like you’ve asked the dumbest question he’s ever heard. “You live in my neighbourhood, don’t you? I always see you cycling home from the grocery store on Saturdays.” 

You hesitate. 

The fact that you do live in the same neighbourhood as Jaehyun does is bothering you in ways you’d never thought it would. It reminds you of the painful separation you faced in your early years of life, and to be hit with such a strong déjà vu years later, you’re not sure if you can handle it. 

Seeing you waver, Jaehyun wears his bag on one shoulder, putting his other arm around you. Your shoulder tense, feeling weird at how he’s so completely at ease with you, like he’s grown up with you for years. 

“It’s okay, Y/N,” he says, his voice oddly absent from the cocky confidence he usually wears. Instead, his voice is comfortingly firm. “C’mon, let’s walk home together.”

As he walks with you to the school gate, the warmth of him being close to you makes your heart ache in ways that are alarmingly familiar. 

IT’S been a few weeks of you trying to execute your attempts at making Jaehyun remember you. But, of course, your efforts decided to fail you. It’s annoying—the way he’s obviously out there treating you like you’re the greatest friend he’s ever had, yet whenever you bring up an old joke or an old nickname that you used to call him, he puts on this confused face that makes you want to slap him and yourself. 

One day, during an afternoon study session, you and your friends had pushed your desks together to mug up upon your studies. You were seated between Yoona and Sanghyeok, and directly in front of you was Jaehyun. 

Tired of solving math problems, you began watching Jaehyun solve a math problem, leaning over his desk. His brows were furrowed deeply, showing how tricky the math problem was. And you notice one thing. 

He was subconsciously sticking out the tip of his tongue slightly. It clicked inside your head, and a roll of memories came playing into your sight. His habit is still the same—exactly like he used to when the two of you were playing jigsaw puzzles. 

You snorted to yourself. “You still do that?” you whispered to yourself. 

However, your whisper was loud enough for your friends to catch. “Do what?” Yoona asked, perking up from her physics homework. 

Her question pulled the entirety of Jaehyun’s attention, and his eyes were locking with yours at once. He had a questioning look on his face, and he didn’t say anything, waiting for you to answer. 

Your eyes widened, and you immediately shook your head. “Nothing,” you stammered, looking away as you bit the inner corner of your cheek.

A few days after that, you were sitting on the bleachers of your school’s soccer field, your homework sprawled over your lap. Jaehyun had made you and the girls come over to watch him, Sungho, and Sanghyeok play soccer at the field. You and Minji didn’t want to at first, but Yoona saw it with a positive note—you were sick of studying at the library every afternoon, so studying at the field could be a nice change. 

It was a windy November afternoon, and autumn was giving way to winter, so every single gush of wind felt like a harsh bite to the skin. You squinted, trying to do your homework as you fought with the wind and the coldness it brought along. You’re not too interested in sports, and it didn’t help that you got there when the match was already halfway through, so you didn’t understand a thing that was going on. 

One thing for sure is that it was quite an intense match. 

“I’m not sure if this was a good idea,” Minji muttered. She shoved her hair into her coat, zipping it up. “My hair is flying everywhere and I can’t even see Sanghyeok. How am I supposed to do anything?”

“Sanghyeok, huh?” Yoona laughed. “You can see them a bit—see, look!” she exclaimed, pointing at the slightly smaller figure of the boys, fiercely in their game. “Sungho and Jaehyun’s about to score!”

Hearing that, you immediately looked up from your homework, your attention officially snatched away from the assignment. You watched intently as the game progressed: Sungho, with the ball in his control, dodged a tackle, swiftly running through the field before powerfully passing the ball towards Jaehyun, who effortlessly scores their winning goal. 

It’s a friendly match between your school’s soccer team and another school, but the celebration that roared through was something else. 

Sanghyeok pulled Jaehyun and Sungho into a bear hug, ruffling both their heads. You heard Jaehyun’s victorious laughs and screams echoing around the air. You smiled.

Soccer has always been one of his passions, and seeing him flourish in it makes your heart bloom in ways you never imagine it would. 

You were proud of him, and it’s a refreshing feeling that you never got to feel years ago, when seven-year-old Jaehyun was telling you all about his soccer dreams. 

After freeing himself from Sanghyeok, Jaehyun ran up to the bleachers. Much to your surprise, he was headed straight to you. He came up to you with a pleasant grin, his face flushed with sweat. 

“Hey, I did it,” he said, breathless. He brought his hand out for a high-five. 

And before you could even think, you stood up and clasped his hand in the old secret handshake from your childhood with him. It came to you like second nature—you couldn’t even stop yourself. 

Jaehyun stiffened, his hand still clasped around yours. 

You were equally as shocked as he is. 

Why did you even do that? 

And what was that reaction?

However, Jaehyun was quick to react—he laughed it off, quickly redoing it into a normal high-five. He gave you another grin before turning away to chug water, leaving you confused and unconvinced. 

Now, you’re not too sure that Myung Jaehyun actually forgot you. 

This theory was drilled into your head even more after another incident or two. 

It was a random Tuesday, where Jaehyun had dragged you and the girls to accompany him to do soccer drills at the field with his team. 

“Remind me why we need to do this again,” Minji grumbled, slumping against the seat. 

Yoona sighed, stifling back a grin. “Because MJ said so.”

“I don’t understand! Why can’t we just wait for them at the library? We need to study anyway,” Minji complained, stomping her feet in frustration a few times. 

“They probably just need some moral support,” you chimed in, watching absentmindedly as Jaehyun is making his team run around the field. 

“They’re seniors already, they should be done with all this,” Minji huffed. 

Yoona shrugged. “You know how they are with soccer.”

“Absolute maniacs,” Minji commented, shaking her head. 

You simply nodded and chuckled along to their conversation, eyes trained on Jaehyun coordinating his teammates in soccer training. The actions then became repetitive, and you quickly got bored. You stared off into space, zoning out. Then, without you realising, a soccer ball from a group of freshmen that were practicing near your seats came flying directly towards you. 

Before you could react, Jaehyun instinctively stepped in front of you, shielding you from the ball with his body. 

The ball bounced off him with a thud, and you gasped. You rushed towards him, Minji and Yoona following you from behind. 

“Jaehyun, are you okay?” you asked frantically. 

Jaehyun picked up the ball, turning slightly to give you a grin that tells you that he’s okay. “I’m okay!” he answered, flexing his bicep. “See?” 

And the memory hitted you like a truck—all this reminded you of the time when the two of you were kids, when Jaehyun would always stand in front of you during dodgeball insisting “you’re too small to get hit!”

A quiet gasp escaped between your lips. “You always do this,” you muttered. 

Jaehyun, who was about to walk back to his teammates after tossing the ball back to them, turned to you. “Do what?” he asked, tilting his head slightly. Your eyes narrowed—you could tell that he was feigning innocence. 

“Never mind,” you said, giving him a tight smile. Jaehyun nodded, and you watched him jog back to his teammates, carrying out the practice like usual, a million thoughts racing through your mind. 

He remembers. 

The next week, on a Thursday, you had just gotten back home from your after school Chemistry class—Jaehyun and his mother had dropped you off. After cleaning yourself up and changing into your pyjamas, you sat down at your desk, wanting to get some homework done before you ate dinner. 

Then, your phone pinged with a text notification from Jaehyun. 

hey sunshine

Are u done with the english hw? i wanna see how u did it

Sunshine. 

The nickname that Jaehyun used to love calling you when the two of you were kids, and used to live only a few houses away from each other back in your old neighbourhood. He used to call you that because, quoting him, your smile was as precious as the sunshine on a winter morning. You didn’t—and still don’t—genuinely smile often, but Jaehyun was one of the only people who could trigger it out of you with not too much effort. 

The nickname meant a lot to you. 

You stared at the message in a daze, and when you finally were about to reply, the text was gone. 

y/n, i meant

sorry

You held your hand against your chest, heart pounding like crazy. 

“What the hell was that?” you whispered to yourself. 

So he does remember. 

IT’S a Friday, and you’re sitting down at your desk, unable to focus your brain into another set of math problems. Instead, you sit there, pretending to read through your completed English essay while sneaking glances at Jaehyun. He’s laughing about something with Minji and Sungho, effortlessly conforming with his friends, flashing that same stupid grin that you’ve always remembered from your childhood. 

Your fingers curl around the edges of your desk. 

How could he look so familiar yet feels so distant like a stranger?

You desperately want to believe that he’s forgotten—too much time has passed. But deep down, you know that it doesn’t make sense. He’s too comfortable around you, too quick to include you too. He’s too at ease around you, especially for someone who’s apparently just met you for around two months. 

And the worst part? Your heart is still skipping a beat every time you look at him. Your heart still reacts the same way it did when you were kids—probably even more defined now—cheeks turning pink at his gestures, heart warming at his voice. 

This isn’t fair. Nothing is.

You watch as he ruffles Minji’s hair, annoying her by ruining her hair that she spent an entire morning trying to perfect. He laughs as she swats his hand away, hissing curses at his face. 

He used to do that to you. 

Your grip tightens. 

Maybe you’re just overthinking it. Maybe he really did forget, after all. 

But you can’t just get it out of your head—the way Jaehyun treats you, the small, fleeting glances and the way he easily includes you in every conversation he has and everything he does. It makes you doubt yourself. 

And why do you even care so much?

You turn away, biting your lip. It’s stupid. Everything is just so dumb—you shouldn’t be jealous or feeling worked up about some boy that happened to still be the most important part of your life even after so many years. You shouldn’t even bother yourself with something that happened years ago. You know you shouldn’t hold on to memories that you’re not even sure he still held. 

But you are.

And that fact alone is making you despise everything.

BY the end of the day, you’re lazily packing your bag after the last bell rang. You’re drained after an entire week of classes and endless assignments, and you don’t know if you can survive your after school Math class. Beside you, Sanghyeok is also packing his bag—but he’s doing so at a much faster pace than you are. He gives you an acknowledging smile, a piece of bread in his mouth, before walking out of the classroom. 

“MJ, are we going to the extra football practice coach said we’d have earlier?” Sungho asks, stacking his books into an organised pile before sliding them into his bag. 

Jaehyun looks up from his phone, humming. “Yeah, I’ll go. I’m the captain—can’t miss any sessions, can I?”

Sungho nods in agreement, but before he could say anything in return, Jaehyun’s focus is already shifted to you. 

You’re packing your bag slowly, as if by doing that, you’re able to avoid going to your after school class. You zip your backpack close, feeling someone’s gaze boring into you. You look up, turning towards the source of the tingling sensation. 

“Going home already?” Jaehyun asks, an idle grin displayed on his face. 

You slip your arms into your puffed coat. “Yeah,” you nod, “I have extra class.”

“Let me walk you home,” Jaehyun says, zipping his bag shut smoothly. He swings it over his back. 

“Jaehyun, we have practice,” Sungho reminds. He’s already at the door, gesturing with his chin. 

Jaehyun swats his hand, without even looking at his friend. “It’s fine—you can go first.”

As Sungho leaves with a sigh, Jaehyun grins at you. “C’mon. Let’s stop for some tteok skewers while we’re at it too.”

You stare at him, eyes unblinking. 

Is he being serious? Why is he always insisting on walking you home? Doesn’t he realise what his actions are doing to you? 

Your frown begins to deepen as you recall Jaehyun’s treatment of you ever since you transferred to KOZ Academy: always next to you, effortlessly handing you snacks and drinks—specifically the ones you always preferred, always seeming to prioritise you over everything else that he has; walking you home, buying you food as often as possible, and all the other little things that made your heart somersault. 

You don’t want any of this. 

You don’t like how conscious you are of yourself whenever he’s around. You don’t like how he makes you feel like you’re the most important person in this world. You don’t like how he makes you all smiles—you despise the way he easily brings you out of your shell. 

You clench your fists. 

This is ridiculous. You are being ridiculous. 

Jaehyun has been nothing but very kind and welcoming to you since you first came here. He has included you, so naturally nothing seemed awkward or forced. He introduced you to his friends, and they were all so welcoming you feel like you’ve been friends for ages. He treated you like any other classmate, normal and friendly. 

And that is the problem. 

Because you know that, to Jaehyun, you’re just like any other person here. You’re just a normal classmate. Not the girl who used to braid flowers into his hair as the two of you talked under the shade of the oak tree, chatting your afternoon away. Not the girl that he used to enthusiastically greet every day, eager to share his strawberries. Not the girl that he swore he’d never leave behind. 

You know you mean as much to him as much as his other friends do. You know that his stomach doesn’t do this funny dance whenever you’re around. You know that his cheeks don’t become warm whenever he hears your voice. You know he doesn’t look forward to seeing you every day, like it’s one of the only things that keep him going. 

Your throat burns with this feeling. It’s stupid. You hate whatever’s going on—the faint sliver of hope that Jaehyun just might remember you after all. Maybe he was just pretending. 

But for what?

Because everytime you look into his eyes, you don’t see the Jaehyun you cherished with your entire heart. All you see is someone, still the same Myung Jaehyun, who had long since moved on. 

You’re fine on your own. You know that. You’ve always been. 

You’ve always been by yourself, you didn’t realise how fun and fulfilling it’d be when there’s a special someone in your life. 

When Jaehyun left with no warning ten years ago, you had thought it was the end of the world. You had put yourself through the painful process of moving on, of finally accepting that maybe Jaehyun wasn’t meant to be yours forever all along. 

But then, Jaehyun reappeared. He made his way back into your life, a decade later, as smoothly as the way he first introduced himself to you as a four year old. 

Yet he had the audacity to treat you like you’re a new friend. 

You close your eyes for a quick moment, trying to suppress all the memories that are rushing back into your head. 

“C’mon, Y/N, you’ll be late for your class,” Jaehyun says, tapping your shoulder. It brings you back to reality, and without realising, you’re staring sharply at him with that alarming sensation of tears collecting in your eyes. 

Jaehyun, of course, is quick to notice this. His grin fades into a frown. “What’s wrong? A-are you sick?”

You inhale sharply, taking your bag. “No,” you say, slowly shaking your head. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Okay,” you hear Jaehyun quietly responding as you walk past him. You walk out of the classroom and into the hallways, too tired to even stop Jaehyun from following you. You let him accompany you to the after school tuition centre in town, silently waving him goodbye as you watch him cycle back to school. 

You turn around, sighing. 

YOU know you’re about to hit the end of your patience. 

Your school is hosting a winter festival, organised by juniors and sophomores, a few days before winter break. It’s fun when you think about it, but not as much when you’re paired with Jaehyun for a game. 

The school courtyard is bustling with students, all bundled up in wooly scarves, mittens and puffy jackets, gathered together at the booths set up for your school’s winter festival. The ground is carpeted with white, fresh snow, and a large part of it had transferred into a battlefield for snowball fights, complete with stacks of hay, snowbanks, and random objects as forts. 

“Sorry Y/N,” Yoona says, setting her lips into an apologetic line. 

You shook your head, sighing. Everyone is already paired up with each other—Minji with Sanghyeok, Yoona with Sungho—and you’re left with Jaehyun for the snowball game. You look at Jaehyun, who looks very eager. 

“You’re with me, Y/N!” he exclaims, sliding his arm around your shoulders. His smile is bright and, as much as you didn’t like it, it makes you smile too. 

“So we’re going to draw some sticks and see which teams are going to go against each other,” Jihyeon, one of the juniors in charge of the snowball game booth, says as she comes up to you and your friends. 

“You can go first,” you say to Minji, and she nods. 

She reaches her hand in the cup Jihyeon is holding out, and pulls out a random popsicle stick. The edge of it is coloured red. 

“It’s red?” she asks, a little confused. 

Jihyeon smiles. “That means you’ll be competing against another team who pulled out a red stick!”

“That’s us!” Jaehyun, who’s standing next to you, suddenly exclaims. He holds a red popsicle stick in his hand. You turn to him, slightly surprised. You didn’t even realise he had been picking a popsicle stick for the two of you. 

“You don’t mind me picking for us… Do you?” he whispers to you. You give him a small smile before shaking your head. 

“I don’t mind.”

You and Jaehyun are going against Minji and Sanghyeok for the snowball game, while Yoona and Sungho are fighting against another pair of seniors. Jihyeon gave each team five minutes to make as many snowballs as possible. You and Jaehyun worked your best to form the snowballs—you weren’t too good at handling cold snow, but Jaehyun seemed to be the best at it. 

“We’ll win this,” Jaehyun says to you, crouching down behind your side of the area. You crouch down next to him, awkwardly nodding. 

He smiles at you in reassurance, and some kind of positive energy fills you up. 

And before you could even process any of it, Jihyeon blows the whistle, indicating the start of your snowball fight. A chaos, made out of crazed giggles and snowballs crashing against bodies, begins to erupt, and you lose sight of Jaehyun in the middle of it.

Jaehyun is immediately in his element—his snickering laughter ringing through the school courtyard as he hurls snowballs at Minji and Sanghyeok. He ducks and dodges behind a snowbank, his chequered brown and red scarf flying behind him like a flag. 

You’re standing awkwardly behind a stack of hay tall enough to cover you, holding a snowball with both of your hands.  Jaehyun suddenly lands next to you, and as soon as he sees you, he tilts his head with a smirk. “Y/N,” he says loudly against the frenzy, “you’re supposed to throw the snowball, Sunshine, not hold on to it like a favourite teddy bear.” 

Jaehyun gives you a teasing grin before dashing off to hurl more snowballs towards Sanghyeok, triple the amount he just threw to his face moments ago.

You remain there, standing still. 

Sunshine? What was that? 

Your cheeks turn pink underneath your knitted scarf, and it’s hard to tell whether that was caused by the cold or from the way that Jaehyun’s grin made your heart flip. 

You watch as Jaehyun plays around in the snow, his giggles resonating around the air. You stand there, your heart thumping loudly in confusion. 

He definitely remembers. 

You absentmindedly take a step back, clutching the snowball in your hands harder, the stinging cold no longer bothering you. 

A second later, Jaehyun arrives next to you, almost slipping. He pants, and despite that, he’s still grinning joyfully. He locks his gaze with yours, and upon noticing your expression, his smile falters a little.

“Y/N?” Jaehyun asks, “are you okay? Why aren’t you playing?”

“‘Sunshine’,” you state plainly, eyes unblinking. “What was… that?”

Jaehyun freezes. He opens his mouth, but for a while, nothing comes out. He stares at you, something unreadable clouding his eyes. The wind blows at his messy hair, flopping against his forehead. 

“What are you talking about?” he asks, chuckling rather sheepishly. 

You narrow your eyes. You’re not letting this go. “Jaehyun,” you press on. “Answer me, Myungjae.”

Upon the nickname, his eyes widens.

Jaehyun hesitates, and for a while, it looked like he was about to give you the answer you desperately wanted. However, your hopes were crushed as a snowball from Minji came hurling towards your direction, crumbling upon impact against your hair. Jaehyun’s eyes widens, and his focus turns back to the snowball match.

“We have a minute left,” he says, rushingly grabbing several snowballs. He’s about to turn to Minji and Sanghyeok, wanting to throw more snowballs at them—but he pauses. He leans close, brushing snow out of your hair with his free hand. 

Your breath catches in your throat. A rush of warmth goes up your cheeks, despite the raging emotions and thoughts in your head. 

He’s too close. 

Jaehyun chuckles. After making sure all of the snow is gone, he ruffles your hair, trying his best to make it look okay again. “There,” he says, his voice low and comforting. “All good.”

You watch him turn his focus back to the snowball frenzy, unable to utter a word. You stare at him, his grin decorating his already handsome face. Your heart claws against your chest as you try your best to pull your eyes away from Myung Jaehyun, who looks too gorgeous with his brown hair adorned with sparkly snowflakes. 

You know he’s lying. You know he remembers. 

But why is he doing all this?

THE last bell of the day rings, the entire school erupts in a chatter of celebration. Students run out of their classrooms, walking out with their friends as they chat the rest of the day away. Several student council members are doing several of their last duties of the day, making sure that everything is perfect before leaving the school for a month. 

You’re at your locker, double-checking everything. You make sure to stuff your bag with things that you’re not too confident at leaving at school for a month—your chemistry textbook, the mirror that your old friends got you. You also made sure to replace the tape that’s holding up the polaroid pictures of you and your family, hoping that it’d stay up for longer this time. 

Your eyes linger around the polaroid of you and Jaehyun—taken at the young age of six. It was the first day of school, you vividly remembered. 

You used to look at that picture with a bittersweet, reminiscent feeling. You always used to look at that picture with some kind of hope that you’d meet Jaehyun one day. 

But now, you can’t do that anymore. 

You glance at Jaehyun’s direction, a few metres away from you. He’s at his locker with his friends, Ricky and Sungho. He’s laughing, as always, and he’s effortlessly blending in like he always did. He’s enjoying his time with his friends, like he didn’t just spend the last few months unknowingly ripping you into pieces. 

How could he be so carefree when you’re feeling like this?

You hate it. So much. 

Too much.

You hate how your chest aches whenever you catch Jaehyun looking at you, the way he looked at you like any other classmate, betraying the years you spent together. You hate how he seemed to have easily erased you from his past, like you meant absolutely nothing to him. You hate how he seemed to have forgotten you so heartlessly, when you have spent years holding onto him. 

But now, you can’t hold it in anymore. 

Jaehyun had finished his conversation with his friends, and now he’s walking towards you, tossing his ball up and down, flashing that same easygoing smile that had captured your heart—and something inside you snaps.

“Do you really not remember me?”

Jaehyun pauses, his eyes bulging and his footsteps halting. 

You didn’t mean to say it. 

You had spent weeks bottling it all up, second-guessing yourself amidst all the mixed signals. You constantly told yourself that it didn’t matter, that Jaehyun truly did forget you, and that it had been too long for him to even remember you as much as you remember him. 

You can’t just bottle it in any longer. 

Jaehyun blinks, clearly taken aback. “What?”

You exhale sharply. You can’t take it back anymore. “You really don’t remember me, do you?”

JAEHYUN bangs his head against his bedroom door, regretting every single thing he’s done. 

Why did he even do that?

After he said goodbye to Ricky, who was going on a winter vacation to Italy, he turned to you. He approached you, subconsciously having that same stupid lovesick grin that his lips somehow form whenever he’s around you. He’s walking towards you, like how he does it every other day.

Usually, you’d greet him with that adorable little smile of yours. 

But today, he was smothered with a menacing glare and a question that he doesn’t expect instead. 

“What are you talking about?” Jaehyun said, trying his best to sound innocent. He was unable to pry his gaze away from you, but he hoped that you didn’t catch the quiver in his eyes. 

You didn’t say anything for a while, and he watched as whatever emotions you had swirling in your beautiful eyes changed into a solid look of hurt and betrayal. 

Jaehyun felt his heart drop to the floor. 

It’s like everything stopped, and his stomach began to twist, the memories rushing back as they played through his mind like a broken film tape that he couldn’t stop from playing. 

“You really, really don’t remember me,” you said, quiet with a humongous amount of hurt. Your voice cracked, and Jaehyun’s heart began to crumble because of it. 

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” Jaehyun replied, forcing out the words as firmly as he possibly could. 

His words felt like acid on his tongue. Jaehyun had told this lie many times before, but today, it felt more painful than the others. But Jaehyun did it anyway, over and over again.

Because it’s easier than admitting the truth to you. It’s easier than having to acknowledge the feeling that’s twisting his heart, hurting his chest. 

You exhaled shakily, and for a second, Jaehyun swore that he could see through you—your eyes searching him, like you were finding the real Jaehyun, who had been the one that promised he’d be your rock until the end of time. 

And the fact that you still had that effect on him—making him feel like he’s on Cloud 9—after all these years, only made it worse for him. 

“You’re lying,” you snapped, your eyes starting to sparkle with unshed tears. Your voice began to rise with every word you uttered. “You do remember me. You remember everything. Don’t you?”

His heart began to thump loudly against his ribs. He had never seen you so worked up like this, he had never heard you raise your voice like this. 

Jaehyun stared into your eyes, the truth burning at the back of his throat. He hesitated, almost spitting it out. 

But in the end, he swallowed it. 

“I don’t get it, Y/N,” he countered, trying to sound confused. Though, it didn’t sound convincing, even to him. “Maybe we’ve met before, in-in the past, but I truly don’t remember anything.”

Your gaze stiffened, and the desperation in your expression faded. Jaehyun kept his guard strong—he couldn’t let you see him crack, even though the weight of your disappointment was heavy on him. 

Then, after a minute of silence that felt too long, you gave him a straight smile. 

“Okay,” you whispered. You slammed your locker close and immediately walked away, not giving Jaehyun a chance to say anything else. 

He wanted to chase after you. But he couldn’t. 

He watched you turn away, and as the doors closed behind you, he felt the loss crumbling upon him, heavy and unbearable. 

YOU’RE not even sure why you’re feeling like this, but you are angry. Upset. 

Who wouldn’t be, especially after witnessing the only person who made you feel truly understood shun you out, saying that he doesn’t remember you?

You didn’t really like leaving your messages unread and unreplied, but for the first time, you let your text channel with Jaehyun clog up. 

It’s the morning of Christmas, and you wake up to almost fifty new texts from Jaehyun alone. You don’t open any of them, but you couldn’t help but read some of it from the notifications bar. 

y/n, did i do something wrong?

y/n, are u okay?

y/n, i can’t believe u declined to go snowboarding 2gether yesterday. we had so much fun!!!

okay fine. i shouldn’t have used that tone

honestly it kinda sucked to not have u around

i know u’d like seeing the sunset from on top of the mountain

y/n i hope u’re eating well

y/n, did u go see the big christmas tree in the city centre? i’m in front of it rn. 

y/n. merry christmas. 

enjoy your day

You sigh, turning off your phone. It pained you, probably just a little bit, to ignore all of Jaehyun’s attempts to reach out to you. You did feel a bit sad that you’re missing out on fun plans that he wanted to do with you—but what could you possibly do? You know you’re not ready to face him without baring your teeth at him. 

You enjoy the day with your family, happy to see them after a long time, especially your cousins and grandparents. You ate a lot of good food, took a lot of pictures, played a lot of games with your nieces and nephews, and of course—exchanged many memorable moments and laughter with your family members. 

You were playing in the snow with your little cousins, your heart stinging a little. Not from the cold, but from the memory that you have associated with snowball fights—Jaehyun. There was something warm about hurling cold balls of snow that made the tips of your fingers red. Maybe it was because you were fond of the person smiling at you during that time, or maybe because the way snowball fights produce heartwarming laughter reminds you of the person that you’ve cherished for so long and how his laughter fills your heart with joy.

Your mother called you inside, and after shaking off all the snow from your coat, you joined everyone else for the gift unboxing time. You got many gifts from your family and friends alike, but when it came to the largest box addressed to you, you can’t help but feel a little pang in your heart. 

Who was it from? 

You flip the card attached to the gift, the world going completely silent for a second. Your eyes widen at the sight of Jaehyun’s name scribbled onto it, along with a short message. 

Merry Christmas. I hope you enjoy this.

“When… how did this get here?” the question escapes your mouth almost instantly, but you know that’s not what you really wanted to ask. 

“A boy came off to drop this just now, when you were playing in the backyard with the kids,” your aunt replies, handing you a piece of brownies. You put it in your mouth, chewing slowly as you try to process her words. “I asked him if he wanted to come in and talk to you, but he refused and ran away so quickly I didn’t have time to stop him.”

You merely nod, unable to say anything due to the heavy feeling pressing down your chest. Slowly, you rip the wrapping paper open, holding in a breath you know wasn’t necessary. 

You didn’t know what you expected. 

An apology letter, maybe. 

Or something that he remembered that you always liked. 

But instead of that, your hands are holding a gingerbread house kit and a store-bought Christmas card taped to it. 

Whatever hope you still had remaining for Jaehyun fades, and your jaw clenches. 

It’s time to stop. 

“LOOK, it’s Shinyu,” Yoona nudges you, giggling rather uncontrollably. You glance at his direction, a little wide eyed from how blatant her statement was. 

You’re walking with Yoona and Minji to your school’s library, located in the middle of campus grounds. You’re almost there, when you spot Junghwan—or more famously known as Shinyu, and his group of friends walking in the opposite direction. 

“Shush,” you whisper. “Why are you making this such a big deal?”

“‘Cause he’s such a gentleman, duh,” Yoona replies, deadpanned. Though, that kind of expression on her face lasts only a second. As you and Shinyu’s steps grow closer to each other, and heat begins to rise up to your cheeks, Yoona couldn’t hold her smile back. 

“We’re just friends,” you state, dismissing whatever she’s about to say. You shove your hands deep into the pockets of your puffed jacket, and you set your gaze straight ahead. 

Yoona gives you a raised brow. “I never said you guys weren’t. Are you saying that you guys are more than that?” she asks, the octave of her voice going higher. 

“Someone’s excited,” you mumble. You quickly turn to Minji, desperate. You’re going to walk past Shinyu and his friends anytime now. 

“Min, help,” you plead between gritted teeth. 

To your surprise, Minji laughs, putting her hands up. “I’ll always defend you, but this time, I can’t—you and Shinyu are too cute for me to prevent it.”

Your heart skips a beat, and your mouth is agape. Though, before you could say anything to counter Minji’s remark—that’s already making her and Yoona laugh—Shinyu is already next to you. 

“Hello,” he says, his voice sweet like honey. 

You freeze in your steps, and you quickly turn to him. Shinyu, standing much taller than you, has a fresh smile plastered on his face–the sincerity of it feels like it’s only for you. Though, you don’t want to get your hopes up for anything. You and Shinyu had recently started becoming friends, right after winter break ended a few weeks before this: he’s in your English and PE class, and he often sits near you when you’re studying in the library. You always see him playing basketball after school, too. 

You give him a small smile. “Hi, Shinyu.”

“Where are you going?” Shinyu asks. He nods in acknowledgement to Yoona and Minji. 

“Library,” Minji replies, looping her arm with yours. “Do you wanna come with us?”

Shinyu glances towards his friends, who’s talking amongst themselves.

“I promised my friends I’d come to study with them in the common room,” he says, before shifting his gaze back to you, and there’s some kind of determination shining through. “But you know what?”

Flustered, you blurt out. “What?”

“Yo, guys, I’ll be studying in the library,” he announces to his friends. Some of them roll their eyes, but eventually, they all agree to meet up after school. 

“Let’s go then?” he says, flashing you a smile. 

Yoona clears her throat, and even though muffled, you can clearly hear her giggling. You press your lips together, nodding. You’re feeling shy for no reason. “Okay. Let’s… go.”

Shinyu grins, shoving his hands into his pockets. 

The four of you walk to the library—Yoona and Minji, to your right, are giggling their hearts at the way Shinyu’s walking to your pace, his position perfectly shielding you from the sun. 

You force yourself to look forward the entire time, Shinyu’s presence suddenly making you feel beet red. Unknowingly, you’re smiling to yourself—Shinyu is well-known amongst your peers for his good manners, and undoubtedly, he’s one of the nicer people you’ve met. You lost count of the amount of times he’s taken care of you, especially when you’re studying. 

You chuckle. 

Shinyu’s not bad. 

“Someone’s in love, huh?” Yoona jests, pushing the library door open. You jolt back to reality, scowling at her. 

“I’m not in love,” you whisper sharply. “Also, shut up, he’s next to me.”

Yoona throws her head back, unable to contain her amusement anymore. You ignore her snickering in the back, and you walk inside the library, clutching the straps of your backpack as you try to find a table with enough seats for all of you. 

As you’re looking, a familiar voice pulls your attention towards its owner. 

“Y/N!” you hear Sungho call you, his voice quiet but loud enough for you to catch. He motions for you and the rest to come over. Yoona and Minji notice this, and they immediately jog over, delighted to see the boys. 

However, you’re a little sceptical. 

Your eyes meet with Jaehyun, who looks rather wide-eyed to see you. You hesitate, your footsteps heavier than before. You haven’t been really talking to him ever since school reopened after winter break, and this is the first time you’re facing him directly. 

Shinyu notices your mood drop. He leans to whisper, “are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost, and as far as I know, ghosts don’t really appear in the day.”

You almost burst out laughing at Shinyu’s wooden remark. You bit the bottom of your lips before tugging Shinyu’s sleeve. “Let’s go sit with them?”

“Are you sure?” he asks, voice suddenly shaky. 

You nod. “I’m sure they’ll be okay with it!”

You’re not too sure what made you feel so brave to do so—but you pull Shinyu towards the table that all your friends are sitting at, gesturing for him to sit next to you. Jaehyun, who happened to sit directly in front of the seat that you’re claiming as yours for the day, watched with a dumbfounded expression on his face, his jaw dropped. Yoona and Minji smirked, seeming to know what you’re doing, but  Sungho and Sanghyeok looked a little hesitant. 

Other than the sharp gaze that Jaehyun gave you, lingering a little longer than you’d like, you notice nothing wrong with him. 

Not until an hour into studying together. 

Shinyu, Sungho and Sanghyeok had gotten along quite well, and you often find yourself trying to stifle your laughter at their jokes. You also saw Minji, who was quite hard to impress, laughing along as well. 

You’re mid-laugh when you notice it—Jaehyun’s easygoing demeanour has disappeared. He no longer had that grin that rose higher on one side of his face, one that he displayed when he was amused at something. 

Instead, he’s staring. 

Not at you, but right at Shinyu, who’s sitting next to you, chatting animatedly about a variety show he watched last night with his sisters. You couldn’t help but observe the boy sitting in front of you—his jaw tight, his fingers obnoxiously tapping against the table. It’s obvious that something is bothering him, given that his bright energy had dimmed. 

Normally, Jaehyun would add in to the conversation, spicing things up with a joke here and there, lighting up the atmosphere with his contagious laughter.

You were about to ask Jaehyun about it, but Shinyu is quicker than you thought. He leans in to show you a video on his phone, something related to the funny moment in the variety show that he watched last night.

Your attention is almost immediately pulled towards Shinyu and his phone, but Jaehyun’s actions tugs you back to him harder. 

He pushes back his chair with a loud, audible scrape. 

“What the hell, man?” Minji hisses. 

“Y/N,” Jaehyun says, not even looking at anyone else. “We need to talk.”

“Huh?” you splutter. You thought you made it clear that you don’t want to talk to him.

Jaehyun stomps towards you, and before you could say anything to counter, he grabs your wrist and pulls you away to a far corner. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask, as soon as Jaehyun stops in his steps. You’re more confused than angry, the entire incident that happened before winter break pushed to the back of your mind. 

Jaehyun mumbles something, but you can’t hear him at all. 

“Sorry, what?”

“I said nothing,” Jaehyun replies, his eyes narrowing. 

His reply, rather sharp, startles you a little.

And that makes you a bit worked up. “What’s up with you?” you scoff, rolling your eyes. 

Jaehyun doesn’t reply. Instead, he runs a frustrated hand through his hair, muttering to himself. His eyes dart here and there, as if he’s trying to find some kind of answer. You stand there, silent as you watch him do his thing, not knowing what to do as a response. 

After a while, Jaehyun does something that wasn’t even in the list of things you guessed he’d do—he unzips the hoodie he’s wearing and places it on your shoulders. You stare at him with bulging eyes, mouth agape.

What is he doing?

Before you can even do or say anything to stop him, Jaehyun guides your arms into its sleeves, zipping the hoodie up for you. He takes a step closer to you, leaning close to grab the hood behind your head. 

You feel your breath stuck in your throat. 

He’s. Too. Close.

Jaehyun, his gaze showing how focused he is at this, pulls the hood over your head, tugging it slightly so that it’s secured. His eyes find yours, and for a moment, the world around the two of you freezes. 

You clear your throat, and Jaehyun’s brought out of his trance. 

A fake cough escapes him, and he shoves his hands into his pocket, acting cool before he starts walking back to the table. 

“Jaehyun?” you call after him. “What’s this?”

Jaehyun looks back at you. “Nothing. Just keep it on. You get cold easily, don’t you?”

You go back to your seat, feeling extremely weirded out. What’s up with this guy? 

A part of you tells you that he’s trying to mark you as yours. 

You grimace, shutting up that tiny part of you. 

He doesn’t even bother to remember me, so why would he do that?

JAEHYUN’S behaviour just keeps on getting weirder and weirder. You really tried your best to tell yourself that it’s not a big deal—but at this point, nothing can convince you that Jaehyun’s not being weird. 

You could recall quite a few moments of him being rather significantly bitter, for a reason that you’re not even aware of: one of them being a free period before lunch on a Wednesday, where Shinyu came over to you to ask you a few questions about Math. 

You had barely even managed to reply to Shinyu’s request before Jaehyun suddenly got up from his seat, clapping his hand on your shoulder. 

You turned sharply towards him, shocked at both the impact and the unexpected gesture. “Jaehyun, what—”

“Y/N,” he interrupted, loudly, “I just remembered! I owed—I mean, you owe me something! An answer. About… about something!”

“What thing?” you frowned. From what your memory serves you, there’s no such thing—

“The, uh—” Jaehyun waved his hand vaguely, glancing at Shinyu, who raised a brow at him. “You know? The thing we talked about yesterday. Super important. Can’t wait. Urgent. Like, right now.”

Before you can even open your mouth, Jaehyun grabbed your hand and pulled you a few steps away. 

Shinyu, grabbing his papers, shook his head. “At least be subtle, dude.”

Jaehyun, hand still clasped around yours, narrowed his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about,” Shinyu chuckles. 

You looked back and forth between the two guys, sighing heavily. Just what is going on?

Another similar moment occurred the next week, at lunch on a random Friday, where Jaehyun was annoying the living daylights of Shinyu for some stupid reason that you’re not too sure of. Shinyu, being the absolute angel he is, completely dodged Jaehyun’s attempts. He remained next to you, chatting about whatever topic that came to mind. He also made sure to include the rest of your friends, and to give you any part of his lunch that he noticed you liked—that extra crispy chicken or the cream cheese bun that he hadn’t touched yet. 

Shinyu had to leave a bit early because his basketball coach had something to discuss with him. He bid you farewell, and as soon as he was out of earshot, Jaehyun immediately perked up, smiling like none of his attempts at making Shinyu pissed off ever happened. 

Tired of the same kind of thing happening each day, you decided to confront him about it. At first, you didn’t want to—afraid that you’re just imagining things, but after discussing it with Yoona and Minji, you knew it’s for the best. 

“You’re acting weird,” you finally said, eyes pointed straight at Jaehyun. 

Jaehyun paused midaction, his noodles slipping down from his chopsticks. “Are you talking to… me?”

Minji punched his shoulder. “Stop being so dense, idiot.”

You nod in Minji’s direction, before turning back to Jaehyun. “Yes, you.”

“Me?” Jaehyun scoffed, leaning back in his chair. “I’m not being weird.”

Sungho snorted in his drink, and Sanghyeok shook his head. You bit back a smile—you’re definitely not imagining this. 

“You glared at Shinyu for five minutes. Did not blink.”

“I did not.”

“And you interrupted every time he spoke.”

“Coincidence.”

You gave him a deadpanned look. “You literally dragged me away mid sentence more than two times.”

The falter in Jaehyun’s cocky gaze tells you that you’re right. 

Jaehyun groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Okay, maybe I’m acting weird. But it’s not because of him. Not because of Shinyu. I just—” 

He cut himself off, shaking his head. “Never mind.”

You stared at him, more confused than ever. 

Jaehyun avoided you gaze, and that confirms everything you’re questioning

“...Right.”

He’s definitely acting weird. 

JAEHYUN is in a mess. He doesn’t know what he’s doing—and he definitely doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do either. 

He knew, from the moment you stopped even reading his messages over the winter break, that he’s truly messed up. But he doesn’t really know what to do, and the only logical solution in his head is the option that he wants to avoid the most. 

Jaehyun is dragging his feet through the hallways, dodging noisy students chatting and huddling in groups at the lockers, when he hears a familiar voice talking as he’s passing by. 

Shinyu. 

The guy that gets on Jaehyun’s nerves whenever he’s around you—the audacity that he has to be flirting openly with you, to show off the fact that he might have a bigger chance with you than Jaehyun ever will. 

He wasn’t paying attention at first, and had his foot out to step away already.

“I think I’ll do it in the courtyard,” he hears Shinyu say, “it’s the most perfect spot. Besides, Y/N likes the marigolds there.”

Jaehyun feels his heart stop, his body freezing mid-step. 

He barely registers the students passing him, hitting his shoulders multiple times. Shinyu’s words sink in, heavy and dangerous. 

“Damn,” another voice speaks, “so you’re really confessing? On Valentine’s day?”

“Yeah, of course,” Shinyu replies confidently. “I mean, Y/N’s amazing. I’d be an idiot not to try.”

“Doesn’t she see you as just a friend?” a voice points out. 

Shinyu sighs. “I know, but what’s the harm in trying?”

“She’s quiet, though, isn’t… she?” another voice asks. 

Shinyu shrugs. “I don’t mind, she’s perfect in my eyes anyway.”

Jaehyun’s stomach twists. His fingers are clenched into fists at his sides, and he knows he should just walk away. 

But his feet won’t move.

Jaehyun stands there, his heart hammering violently against his chest. He frowns, pretending that whatever he heard didn’t get under his skin at all. 

Shinyu is confessing. To you.

And the worst part is Jaehyun has hardly any idea what to do about it.

JUST as he thought his day couldn’t get worse, Jaehyun spots Shinyu running up to you after the last bell rang, a bunch of snacks in hand. He intercepted you from Jaehyun, who was on his way to you, a box of Pepero in his hand. 

It slips from his hand, falling on the ground.

Jaehyun knew. 

From the way your eyes begin to light up whenever you see Shinyu, and the way your smile is just so bright whenever he’s near. The way you talk more and more, prompted so effortlessly by Shinyu. The way you look like you’re glowing when you’re with him… it hits Jaehyun.

He’s going to lose you. 

His vision becomes blurry as he stands in the middle of the courtyard, as still as stone. Jaehyun can’t ignore this any longer. 

He can’t ignore the way his heart is eager whenever he sees you. He can’t ignore the way the world seems a little less gloomy, a lot less lonely when you’re around. He can’t ignore the way his chest hurts, like it’s about to burst, whenever he sees you flashing that adorable, rare smile around anyone else. He can’t ignore the fact that he feels like he’s about to throw up flowers everytime he sees you with Shinyu, all giggly from whatever he says to you. 

He just can’t disregard the fact that he has obvious feelings for you, that he still loves you after all these years. 

Jaehyun had always known those feelings, pushed away deep in his stomach, but these past few weeks—it keeps on growing larger and larger, more urgent and more consuming. The small flutter in his chest when he watched you laugh, the feeling that settled comfortably around him whenever you look at him with those warm eyes, and the overwhelming ache when you’re around Shinyu. 

Jaehyun had tried his absolute best to ignore it. 

But now, watching you interact with Shinyu—sharing snacks, smiling so shyly with him—it made Jaehyun extremely aware of himself. Shinyu, your fellow classmate who seemed to know exactly what to say, the one who made you giggle and smile the way Jaehyun used to always do… the feeling hits Jaehyun differently. 

Jaehyun felt like the ground underneath him was about to crumble, and the earth was about to eat him alive. His heart twists so painfully it makes him feel like he wants to run and hide from the shattering realisation that you might never look at him the same way he has always looked at you. 

He wishes that he had been more courageous, more brave to admit to you that you’re his world, and he’s orbiting you—that you hadn’t left his mind, ever since he left ten years ago. Not even once. He wishes that he had been more valiant, and that he told you, the first time he bumped into you, after a decade of not seeing his favourite person—that he missed you dearly. Your laughter, your smile, and the way that it’s reserved only for him to see—he wishes he said that to you the first time. 

Honestly, Jaehyun wasn’t even really sure why he lied to you. Sure, he was scared, afraid that you might not remember him at first. But after a while, he just didn’t want his feelings for you to be out in the open. He knew you remember him—but he was simply terrified. 

What if you didn’t like him the way he did? 

What if he’s the only one that’s feeling like you’re the most important person in life?

Jaehyun was too afraid of you rejecting him to stop lying. 

Though, he thought that his way of showing his feelings, rather subtly in his opinion, through little acts of service could make you notice. 

Even so, Jaehyun knew that it only made you more confused. 

He really wanted to be happy for you—he really does. You deserve all the goodness in this world, and you deserve to be happy with someone who looks at you the way Jaehyun looked at you all this while, but his chest twists with a blazing jealousy: an emotion he never thought he’d feel when it comes to you. 

It’s not fair. 

Not to you, not to him. 

How could he be so stupid? How could he be such a loser, a coward? 

Jaehyun takes a shaky breath in. He could tell, from the way you looked at him, and from the way your eyes crinkle when you smile at him, that you had no idea. No absolute idea about the chokehold you have on him—the way every shared moment, every glance and every smile is carved into his soul. 

You have no idea how much he’s hurting, from the way you’re clearly upset with him, the way you’re growing closer to Shinyu, and the way you’re slipping away from his reach with every passing moment.

But then, something clicks in him. He’s not going to let the ache, the jealousy and the frustration take the reins—he’s no longer going to shrink back into the shadows. 

This is going to be his moment. His time to shine. Jaehyun could feel the determination settle firmly in his chest, and his mind begins to come up with a plan. The fear and the doubt is burned to ashes, and it’s no longer going to hold him back. 

He had been such a fool. 

This time, no more hesitating. No more waiting. No more wondering what if. 

If he wants you, he’s going to fight for it. 

He’s not going to let himself lose you to anyone else. Not now. Not ever. You’re his best friend, his rock, his confidante. You understand him in ways others don’t, and he knows you more than you even know yourself, even after all these years. And if anyone is going to make you realise that, it’s him. 

JAEHYUN hadn’t meant to walk this way. 

It’s the night before Valentine’s day, and somehow, his feet had brought him to your house, a couple blocks away from his own. He’s in a new neighbourhood, and the house he’s approaching is new, but the feeling is familiar. 

He slows to a stop, staring at your house—remembering how it used to be some kind of second home to him. It’s a new house in a new state, but Jaehyun could still remember sitting on the front steps with you, munching the afternoon away with your mother’s homemade snacks. He still remembers doing homework with you on the porch, laughing at the way you huffily grumbled under your breath when it came to difficult questions you couldn’t solve. He still remembers building a pillow fort in your living room, calling it your ‘secret base’. 

His fingers curl around the strap of his guitar. 

Have you ever realised how much you mean to him? How much do you always mean to him?

A gust of wind blows through the quiet street. 

Jaehyun stares at your window, the warm glow radiating from inside. He swallows hard. 

It’s now or never. 

Taking a deep breath, he takes a step forward and begins picking his guitar. 

YOU shove your headphones down your neck, heart thumping fast. 

What’s the noise outside?

You walk towards your window, nervous upon hearing the melodious guitar and the singing muffled by the bricks in your walls. 

“Man, I'm so nervous to death

I relax my stiff lips

I might fail miserably like this

I might mess up

Hi, the weather's nice. Wanna take a walk?

My shy voice is just for you!

Ah, please, don't say no

Oh, I won’t beat around the bush

From my head to toe

No, even my heart’s under pressure…”

You recognise that voice. 

Jaehyun. 

What’s he doing here, in the middle of the night? 

You peek through the curtains—and your assumption is correct. There he is, Jaehyun, standing rather awkwardly in front of your driveway with his guitar. 

Your eyes widen. He’s singing. 

Or more accurately, screaming. 

“I love you, baby, baby, baby

I’ve been screaming the whole neighborhood knows 

I like you!

My neighbors go, yah, yah, yah

Let's get some sleep, yoo-ooh, oh-oh

I swear you'll like it.”

You close the curtains sharply, turning your back to the wall. Your face begins to feel hot, and your breaths turn to short, ragged gasps. 

You close your eyes, trying to drown Jaehyun’s voice out, but you can’t. 

Slowly, you open your eyes again, letting yourself to hear him out.

And soon enough, you realise the meaning behind the words he’s singing. 

“Ah, please, don't say no

Oh, I don't want to be just friends

From my head to toe

No, even my heart's under pressure!”

You push your curtains aside, taking in the view. You expect him to be singing rather calmly, but instead, you’re greeted with Jaehyun, kneeling on the road as he’s serenading you. 

“I love you, baby, baby, baby

I've been screaming the whole neighborhood knows 

I like you!”

You barely processed what he just sang. 

One second, you were in your room, standing frozen as your breath hitched at the sound and sight of Jaehyun’s singing echoing through the neighbourhood. 

Next, you’re running out of the house. 

You didn’t think—you just ran. 

Your parents, who were alarmed by Jaehyun’s singing, didn’t even have time to react. You flew past them, socks sliding across the wooden porch, nearly tripping down the slippery steps. 

“Y/N! Your coat—”

Too late. 

“I love you, baby, baby, baby

I've been screaming𑁋”

You bolt towards Jaehyun, crashing into him with so much force he barely had time to catch his guitar. 

“𑁋the whole neighborhood knows 

I like you𑁋oof!”

From the door, your dad raises a brow. “...did we miss something?”

Your mother merely chuckles, smiling knowingly. 

“You really—” you gasp, your breath visible in the air, “—had to do this in front of everyone?”

Jaehyun grins, entirely unbothered. “Of course.”

You cover your face with your hands—you were embarrassed, at first, but now it’s not even about all that. Your body is trembling, not from the cold nor embarrassment, but from the overwhelming warmth that is engulfing you. 

Jaehyun gently pries your hand away. “Hey,” he says softly, his grin now a gentle smile, “did it work?”

Your lips part. “What? Did what work?”

“Making you fall for me.”

Jaehyun barely had time to flash you another of his smirks before you fling yourself at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist. 

He lets out a startled laugh, stumbling back slightly. “Whoa—hey, what’s–”

“You’re so embarrassing,” you say against his jacket, your grip tightening. “And loud. And ridiculous.”

And just so, so cute. 

Jaehyun giggles, running a hand through his hair. “So,” he says, and you pull away to look at him. “How was it?”

You look at him with slightly narrowed eyes. “How was what?”

“I just serenaded you. That basically means you have to date me now, right?”

You gasp, hitting his chest. “Jaehyun–!”

“I mean, that’s like, a rule or something. I put in all this effort, to sing to you on a very cold winter night—made myself look completely ridiculous, and now you have no choice but to fall for me. That’s how it works,” Jaehyun continues, a smug look on his face.

You roll your eyes, to hide the obvious flush in your cheeks. “You’re unbelievable–”

“Unbelievably charming?” he cuts you off, wiggling his eyebrows.

“No. Unbelievably embarrassing.”

Jaehyun dramatically gasps. “Excuse me, that was romantic. I even practiced the song! Twice!”

You swat your hand, face burning, but he catches it. 

You stare at him, wide-eyed, your heart dangerously racing. 

“Y/N, listen… I know I can be a lot,” Jaehyun begins, his voice softer and more serious now. His grip on your hand tightens. “And you’re quiet and reserved, but I think we fit perfectly. With each other.”

You want to say something, but you keep your silence—you don’t really trust yourself to say anything in the state you’re in. 

“You know why?” Jaehyun continues rambling, his grin morphing into one of the most lovesick smiles you’ve seen, and you find yourself mirroring it. “I love making you smile, and I want to always keep on making you smile until, like, forever—”

Your heart makes a backflip, or something, but you feel your face flushing even more. “Jaehyun, stop–”

“And if you don’t like me back, that’s fine. That… is… totally okay! I will totally accept rejection gracefully, I’ll just be heartbroken for like, ten years—”

“Oh my god—”

“—but if you do like me, please tell me before I make a bigger fool of myself.”

Jaehyun pauses, catching his breath. His eyes find their way back to you, and in the silence he’s left between the two of you, you can’t hold yourself back anymore. 

You grab the front of his jacket and yank him forward.

“Shut up, Myung Jaehyun.”

And you kiss him. 

Jaehyun lets out a startled sound, but it isn’t long before he melts into you, his hands gripping your waist as he kisses you back, deep and eager. 

It isn’t shy. Nor is it soft. 

It’s everything—messy, desperate, and full of all of the things you couldn’t say to him.

By the time you pull away, Jaehyun is a breathless mess. He blinks at you like you had just punched him square in the face. 

It’s certainly out of character for you, you know that, but you didn’t expect Jaehyun to look absolutely smitten. 

“...Well.”

You pant, glaring up at him. “There, you finally shut up,” you mumble. 

Jaehyun licked his lips, his grin slow and teasing. “…You can do that anytime.”

You gasp, shoving him. 

Jaehyun giggles, grabbing your hand before you could run back inside. He pulls you close, and places your arms around his waist, in the warmth of his jacket. 

He rests his forehead against yours, your noses brushing. 

“So, are we official now, or do I need to sing another song?”

You look at him, your heart beating with a certain answer. 

I love you.

Though, of course, you’re too embarrassed to say that to him. You smack him before hiding your face in his chest. 

“Shut up, Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun only laughs, and a warm feeling fills you up. He pulls you closer, hugging you tight. “Okay, sweetie, I think that’s enough singing for tonight.”

― © htaesan, 2025.

⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀want more like this? check out the 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄

[sortagaysortahigh]

Garden | Joaquin Torres

A/N: Heyyyy yall guess who's finally back because a hispanic man had me barking at my TV again?! That's right, oh so secksi big lexi is here with a novel of a fic. Also big shoutout and thank you to my lover @love-chx for beta-ing this and just being a thirsty freak with me over this man. I wouldn't have finished this fic without u bb <3 Anyways if yall wanna thirst ab this man with me my inbox is always open to fellow whores like myself. Also CHILDHOOD FRIENDS TO ENEMIES TO LOVERS BOOM SHAKA LAKA YES GOD!!! This is also canon-divergent with a few small CABNW references, also this is named after Garden by SZA tee hee

Summary: Y/n Y/l/n and Joaquin Torres had spent their entire childhood together, but growing up meant growing apart, and when travesty after travesty struck the world, their paths couldn't have been more polarized. But sometimes paths are meant to be crossed again, and there's always a chance for change

Warnings: angst, THIRD PERSON POV, use of Y/N, forced super soldier serum injections (scene not depicted), mentions of murder, mentions of war crimes (not explicitly stated), readers kind of a bitch ngl, cursing, mentions of violence, mentions of burns/Joaquin literally being shot out of the sky, SMUT: hair pulling, minor neck grabbing/choking, spitting, hickies, bruises, kissing (with tongue omg), oral (m receiving + a lil ball worship if you squint), handjobs, unprotected P in V, creampie, swallowing, handj*bs, dirty talk, lowkey sub!joaquin dom!reader vibes

Word Count: 20.8k

Joaquin Torres x Fem!Reader (reader has vague descriptions regarding having long-ish hair, but it's typically described to be braided/blown out/wavy post-braids, Joaquin does in fact stare at the reader's ass, but all booties matter purr, reader's great grandparents are also immigrants, non specified)

(Given the opportunity I'd kiss him on the mouth) AS ALWAYS MINORS DNI!!!

Miami, circa 2005-2006

Summers in Miami were anything but forgiving, filled with the kind of heat that made people question their own sanity, in combination with high levels of humidity that left an almost sticky film on one’s skin. It was like hell sometimes.

Hurricane season was always rough too, storms that would rock through cities and towns along the coast.

The nicer neighborhoods always seemed better off after the Hurricanes, meanwhile smaller, poverty stricken areas were always left in the dust to fend for themselves. Sure the city and counties had done their best, but power outages lasted days, sometimes weeks, and entire businesses would be destroyed, and communities were left to rebuild things together.

That same sense of community is what had brought Y/n Y/l/n and Joaquin Torres together. He moved to Miami from Mexico a little over a year ago, coming to the United States in May of 2005 with his grandmother and mother. They’d left in hopes of finding something better for him, chasing the American Dream like many migrants south of the border often did.

It wasn’t an easy process, but with family and an established sense of structure in Miami, it made the process a bit smoother for the family.

The y/l/n family had been living in Miami for decades, having genuine roots and history in the neighborhood, they had always been strong community leaders. Constantly volunteering to help at the schools, preparing meals for their neighbors, hosting several block parties and barbecues throughout the summers, and most notably, always lending a helping hand when it came to anyone’s children.

They embodied the saying ‘it takes a village’. 

When the Torres family moved to the neighborhood, y/n’s mother was the first to introduce herself to them, offering to send her eldest sons over to help them move in, and even inviting them over for dinner ten minutes into meeting them.

That single action led Joaquin Torres to Y/n Y/l/n two days following his move, and it led to the both of them being inseparable for years, a friendship that started with her shoving him into the asphalt when he’d clearly cheated at street hockey then proceeded to lie about it.

She was the one to knock him down, and she was also the one to help him up and drag him up the street to her house, mumbling about how she was sorry for shoving him, and muttering to herself about him being a ‘wimp’ for ending up with bloody scrapes along his legs.

He also had watched her mother lecture her about how it was wrong of her to push him, and the moment he’d laughed, her mother started lecturing him. The concern laced harsh words easily flowing from the older woman’s mouth had his eyes wide, she’d even managed to throw a few Spanish words in the mix.

Sure he knew that she spoke Spanish, but he didn’t quite understand where her family was from. That was also another conversation her mother had with him a few months later when he’d pestered Y/n about why her family spoke Spanish if they didn’t exactly look hispanic. 

They’d been in Miami for generations, it made perfect sense that they’d known Spanish. 

She had also yelled at him, but to be completely honest, she wasn’t exactly the sweetest girl on the planet.

As a six year old, she was mean. Meaner than most, yet somehow she possessed her mother’s caring spirit, which led to her showing anyone she cared for the epitome of tough love.

The summer of 2006, the both of them had spent most of their time outside together, walking through the neighborhood, talking about anything and everything that would interest two seven year olds. She’d pestered him about his hair, stating that he needed a haircut because he looked like her Tia’s new puppy (the woman had been gifted a white fluffy terrier by her most recent boyfriend), and he’d responded by saying she looked like a tree from ‘Horton Hears a Who’ due to her large frizzy hair. 

Humidity was not a friend to either of them.

They’d also made a friendship pact that summer, they’d seen it in some random movie that his Abuela had rented from the local Blockbuster, and had decided that since they were already good friends, they’d both slice their palms with one of her dad’s razors, then shake.

Except they both ended up with deep cuts and had to be taken to the emergency room, where they had to foolishly explain that they’d not only schemed to steal her father’s razor, but had also gone through the process of cleaning it with a random bottle of isopropyl alcohol before slicing their palms to imitate a blood pact from a movie that they were probably too young to be watching.

Both of their mother’s yelled at them that night, at the same time. Then her father yelled at them both.

When they thought they were done being lectured, his Abuela yelled at them in Spanish.

That Summer they’d also gone to the beach with their families together, and her father had buried them both in the sand, leading to a photo of their heads and portions of their upper bodies sticking out while they both glared at the camera. 

When school had started back up, they were in the same class, which meant they’d caused quite the ruckus together, either laughing too loudly, talking way too much, or throwing things at one another. It was worse when their teacher tried to separate them, leading them to throw crumpled up paper balls at one another followed by miniature paper airplanes.

He’d also gotten into his first real fight with another boy two months into the school year, he’d called her names, pulled on one of her braids, and usually she would’ve responded, but her mother had recently told her that she needed to stop acting out in school.

So, like the good best friend he was, Joaquin didn’t hesitate to punch the other boy in the face at recess when he’d caught the kid pestering her. That decision also led to her high fiving him, and the both of them getting sent home and placed on a two day suspension.

Summer of 2017

The end of high school is a major milestone for many. Getting the opportunity to not only graduate, but graduate with honors was something that Y/n and Joaquin had worked incredibly hard to achieve, sure the both of them did run into several hiccups along the way, mainly surrounding Y/n’s need to get into fights and Joaquin’s need to constantly and consistently defend her. WAIT DONT FOCUS ON THAT HAHA I WASNT SURE IF THE COMMA WENT THERE

Most thought the two would’ve been together by now, having been friends for nearly ten years, not only friends, but the best of friends and practically inseparable, and yet they’d never crossed the line between friendship and something more. It wasn’t something that they’d planned on doing either.

Anytime their parents would talk about it, the both of them would swiftly deny the suggestion, looks of disgust on their faces as they looked at one another, then back at their families. It wasn’t until prom night that they’d both even considered seeing one another romantically.

They hadn’t acted on it, nor had they ever shared the thought with each other.

They’d gone together, mostly because his girlfriend had broken up with him at the last minute, or rather, y/n had forced her to break up with him after finding out that Julia had been cheating on him for a few weeks. She’d also threatened to ‘knock her front teeth in’ if she refused to do so. She’d also made sure that Joaquin knew that his now ex-girlfriend had been cheating on him, showing him a series of screenshots that a mutual friend had sent her.

When he showed up at her house in an all black tux, she’d been caught off guard. It was rare that Joaquin was dressed up, so rare that she almost didn’t recognize him, brows knit together as she stared at him from the front porch of her family’s home. 

She thought that he actually looked handsome. Sure, she’d always known that Joaquin wasn’t ugly, that much was obvious, but she’d never really given it a second thought. Not even when all of her friends would rant and rave about how ‘hot’ he was, or how he was super attractive and she was an idiot for not ‘jumping his bones’. 

He’d been growing his hair out a bit. It was slightly slicked back, but the curls along the back of his head were still defined. He held a corsage in his hand, the vibrant red roses sat in a sealed clear plastic box, and it matched the rose pin to his suit.

He’d been staring at her, his lips slightly parted, brows raised. At that exact moment he finally understood what all of his friends had said about her. The guys had always given him shit, saying that he was an absolute idiot for ignoring what was right in front of him. Some guys on the team had even asked him for his approval to ask her out; he’d always shrugged them off and said something along  the lines of ‘go for it, but good luck’.

She’d never really given anyone a chance, sure there were a few guys here and there, and that douchebag lifeguard last summer, but outside of that, Y/n rejected pretty much everyone.

It got to the point where their mothers had asked if she was gay, which was an incredibly uncomfortable conversation, to say the least.

He was still staring, he knew she’d be wearing black, which had made coordinating with her at the last minute a lot easier since he already had a black suit. But he didn’t know that she’d be wearing a satin black dress with a neckline that plunged enough to make him blush, the fabric itself hugging all of her curves, and her hair that was typically braided, was now blown out and framing her face perfectly.

He dropped the corsage, then scrambled to pick it back up.

Things had gone back to normal the second she’d mocked him for dropping it; they’d both snapped out of their own trances, and had taken a myriad of photos. Then they’d been off.

The dance was fine, it wasn’t spectacular, but it was fun enough. They’d jumped up and down and screamed random party songs together, laughing with one another and their shared friends.

Then the slow songs started, and at first she’d decided to sit things out while he spoke with one of his friends, but after a few minutes, he had asked her to dance.

The moment their eyes met during the slow dance was the moment they’d both been dreading their entire lives. They’d realized that maybe everyone else was right about them, and maybe they’d just been too stupid to notice.

But they’d brushed it off when the song changed, awkwardly laughing together while nodding their heads, ignoring the fact that a few seconds ago they were a little too close with his forehead resting against hers and their lips millimeters apart.

Both of them had internally vowed to never speak of that night again.

Then graduation happened. After getting their diplomas, they’d posed for more photos, laughed with one another, and ended up taking one of their favorite pictures together. Joaquin’s hand was around her waist as they both held up a singular middle finger while making a similar face—one eye shut with their tongue out. 

She’d gotten into Florida State University, and Joaquin decided to go to the Air Force. Of course Joaquin applied to college, but he wasn’t like Y/n, he hadn’t received a multitude of scholarships with different choices and the last thing he wanted to do was take out a series of loans that would leave him in thousands in debt, especially considering he’d wanted to do his best to avoid putting any other financial pressure on his family.

They’d spent most of that summer together, both with the knowledge that it’d truly be their last real summer together, at home, with one another.

He was set to go to basic training the same day that she’d be moving into her dorm.

So the night before they’d gone to the beach together, both sitting side by side on the sand, watching the sunset.

“Quino, things are gonna be different now, aren’t they?” she leaned into him, her head against his shoulder while she gazed forward. Meanwhile he’d gone from looking at the skyline, to looking down at her as he nodded his head.

“We can’t exactly be kids forever, Sunshine.”

he scoffed, lifting her head to look at him, eyes trailing along his features as if she was trying to commit this moment to memory, taking in every single detail as if she’d be able to remember this in fifteen years.

“We’re eighteen, it’s not like we have to have it all figured out y’know. We could pack everything up and run away.” 

He smiled, laughing at her while rolling his eyes slightly.

“Yeah, but we’d have to flee the country. I signed a contract with the Air Force. Maybe we run off to somewhere small, off grid.” 

She nodded along, elbowing him slightly, while holding back her smile. 

They both knew that wasn’t possible. It really was time to grow up, time to part ways, at least temporarily.

“You still gonna write to me?” 

He nodded his head at that. “Why wouldn’t I? Who’s gonna laugh at me suffering through basic training? Besides, y’know I write killer letters.” 

She shook her head at that, shoving some sand in his direction.“You have shit grammar, Quino.” 

He smiled at her, shrugging. “So? You still know what I mean!” 

She laughed again, now standing up and brushing her thighs off before giving him an expectant look. Joaquin nodded along as he got up off the sand, then she kicked off her shoes, and grabbed his hand, already running towards the water.

“Hell no! That water’s freezing!” 

She glanced over her shoulder at him. In that moment, at the sight of the golden hue reflecting against her skin, and the outline of the orange, purple, and pink skyline surrounding her figure like an aura from the heavens, he realized that he might’ve been in love with her. 

It was truly a terrible moment to realize that.

“Oh, don’t be such a baby. C’mon, it’s our last real night as teenagers. Embrace it you doofus!”

Then she was pulling him along again, and somewhere along the way, he’d managed to kick his shoes off and toss his phone in a pile with their shared belongings before getting pulled into the water. 

They’d stayed out until two in the morning that night, and on their walk back through the neighborhood together, she wrapped her pinky around his as they moved in sync, trudging through the long sidewalks in their damp clothes together, knowing that in a few hours he’d be setting course to the airport then he’d be en route to San Antonio.

Meanwhile, she’d be starting the seven hour road trip to Florida State University with her parents while her dad towed a mini U-haul trailer on the back of his truck.

He always walked her to her door, even though they only lived a few houses apart and his house was the first they’d passed. She stood on the small front porch, key in the door as she faced away from him. A singular sniffle was what made him realize she’d been crying. 

“Hey, hey, Sunshine look at me.” 

She shook her head, looking down at the dimly lit door knob illuminated by the old porch light. The bulb nearly dead at this rate. Her father always said he’d get around to changing it, but it had been sitting the same way for the entire summer.

He was quick to move behind her, one hand on her shoulder, the other on her waist as he slowly turned her to face him. She tried to shove him off, but his grip was firm, and he’d managed to spin her toward him despite her resistance

“Things are gonna be fine. I’ll write to you, you’ll write to me. We’ll still be friends, still get to come home to the same neighborhood with our families, alright? Still gonna be best friends—” He raised his palm, showing the near identical scar that they’d both shared “—see? Friends for life, made a shitty blood pact and everything.”

She nodded at him, sniffling before pulling him into a hug.

“I’m gonna miss you, you idiot.” he laughed at her, easily hugging her back, slightly squeezing as he nodded. 

“I’ll miss you too, Sunshine. Don’t forget about me when you’re over there in enemy territory, got it?” 

She laughed, shoving him away, shaking her head as she rolled her eyes.“I would’ve picked Miami if they’d given me more money. I guess the Seminoles just got better funding, huh?” she teased him, sniffling again as she smiled, the both of them still holding onto each other, as they held eye contact.

Then, they were both leaning in, and slowly but surely, their lips were millimeters apart again—just like prom night.

The door opening had them pulling apart harshly, practically tripping over one another as her father stared at them through the screen door, blinking several times, brows knit together as he unlocked the door.

“I don’t know what the hell you two are doing out here, but finish your goodbyes, and Joaquin, go the hell home. I’ll miss you kid.” 

He nodded at her father, laughing at his somewhat stern tone before facing her again. Then Joaquin raised both brows, tilting his head before lifting up a singular pinky.“Promise me you’ll write?” 

She smiled, nodding at that before locking her pinky with his. “Promise me you’ll respond when you’re not busy getting your ass kicked?” 

He nodded.

Then Joaquin said goodbye to her father and made his way down the porch steps, walking along the sidewalk.Glancing back, he to offer another wave before making his way back to his house.

The next morning, they’d both gone their separate ways, one to college, the other to the Air Force.

Washington D.C. 2027, Six Weeks Prior

The interrogation room was cold, colder than it should’ve been for the middle of the summer in Washington D.C. of all places. Hell, half of the city didn’t have working air conditioners, but it made sense that a police precinct less than twenty minutes from the Capitol building would have an air conditioning system that actually worked.

That’s how it was now;where there was money, there were luxuries.

Y/n sat in the uncomfortable metal chair situated in the middle of the room, hands cuffed to the  large metallic table in front of her with her ankles stuck to the legs of the chair. They’d known she would be able to break free at any second, but she wasn’t an animal, or some monster, and she wouldn’t be portrayed as such.

A criminal? Yes. But a monster? Never.

She was wearing a black leather jacket, and clearly it wasn’t warm enough, because she’d had goosebumps along her skin, and her nose burned at the feeling of the cold air. Then again, anything cold had a tendency to bother her, side effects of the bootleg black market serum that’d been forcefully injected into her somewhere between Europe and Madripoor.

Everything from that period was a bit fuzzy.

They’d had her in this room for nearly two hours. For the first twenty minutes, they’d tried to question her, and she simply ignored them or answered them solely in Spanish. When they’d found someone who did speak Spanish fluently, she started speaking French.

Then everyone had left, leaving her like an animal in a zoo exhibit, the bright fluorescent lights shining down on her while they watched from behind the one-way mirror. Three cameras in the room, all with a flashing red light, letting her know that they’d been recording the entire time. 

She was a few minutes away from breaking out of the cuffs and throwing them at one of the cameras, but then the door opened. She scoffed at the sight of Sam Wilson: the new Captain America.f she was honest, she liked the guy and she hadn’t heard anything negative about him…well,  from anyone who actually had any sense.

The negatives were usually from racist morons, but Sam Wilson was a great Captain America.. He fit the morals and values, and from what she’d heard, he was genuinely a good person, and those were very rare these days.

She would’ve been perfectly fine if it was just Sam, but when his new protege walked in behind him, she couldn’t hold back the scoff of annoyance.

It’d been years since she’d actually seen him in person.

She’d unconsciously squeezed her right hand, the same hand that a thin horizontal scar sat on— the same scar that he had on his right hand.

Sam’s gaze was focused on the file in hand so he’d missed the glare that she was shooting at Joaquin, and his sudden stiff demeanor. They’d both sat across from her, and the sounds of metal scraping against the tiled floors made her cringe. Then, Sam tossed the file on the table, the papers sliding out of the manilla folder and towards her.

Different criminal charges, alleged photographs of her at global crime scenes, a series of witness descriptions—anything and everything that could possibly incriminate her, outside of genuine substantial evidence.

“Didn’t know Captain America did jail calls, thought that was reserved for the Raft.” 

Sam shook his head at that, raising a single brow as he looked at her.

He knew she hadn’t even hit thirty yet. The girl was still young, and from her records, she’d had so much potential, potential to do good. Yet here she was. Not only did she graduate with honors from Florida State University, she was a Stark scholar her freshman year, having interned directly for Tony at one point, president of several campus organizations, had not only a full ride to the university, but was also given several merit based scholarships during her time there, had significant research that was involved in several scientific journal publications, and she had even been an intern for the department of defense.

He also knew that the world wasn’t the best place following the Snap in 2018; it impacted everyone drastically. Some vouched that it was a great time, but a lot of people had suffered, and the world was left to grieve and mourn for five years.

“Well, now you do know that. Care to share how you’re involved with Serpent?” 

She rolled her eyes at that, shaking her head and letting out a sigh. “I’m not.” 

Sam raised a brow, opening the file and pointing at not one, but two images of Y/N very clearly speaking with one of Serpent’s main shot callers, Sidewinder himself. “Then explain your relation to Sidewinder”

“That’s not me in the photo.” She blinked several times, clearly bored of the conversation.

Joaquin just stared in silence, it was probably the most quiet he’d been in years, staring at his childhood best friend turned wanted criminal. He never understood what happened to her. They’d kept in touch when he’d gone to boot camp, and even after that, when she was in college and he was getting his deployment orders, she always wrote to him.

They’d written to one another, even after the Blip.

He knew her family had been blipped away, and he also knew that was a major turning point for her. She’d spent most of her time on her studies, overworking herself to the point of exhaustion, distracting herself from the truth.

Two years into the Blip they lost contact. He knew she was still in school, but he was stationed overseas, and the time zones, plus the stress of life had gotten to them both.

He tried to find her again when he was stateside, tried to got to the neighborhood, only to find new families living in the house that had been in her family for decades. He’d also found out that the county government had forcefully repossessed the house. They’d gone to court over it and she’d lost.

All he’d known was that she did end up graduating, and as a last ditch effort, she invited him to her graduation. She’d written to him a lot, but turns out most of those letters had gotten lost along the way. The Blip had left several economic issues, and had impacted a multitude of different industries, which accounted for the loss of most of her letters. The ones he’d finally gotten from her were all stacked up, scattered thoughts throughout three years—references to things he didn’t really get, random bits and pieces from stories he’d assumed he would never get to read, and most importantly, the invitation to her graduation.

Typically he would’ve been able to request time for that andhe wished he got the letter on time, wished that he would’ve been able to go to Florida State (although begrudgingly) and watch his best friend cross the stage and get her degree, especially considering he’d be one of the few people there for her after what happened to her family.

Seeing her was like seeing a ghost, except now he was seeing the ghost of who she was, of who she could’ve been. The woman across from him wasn’t the same girl that he’d seen all those years ago.

It’d been almost nine years. Nine years since he’d properly gotten to see her. He still remembers the way her voice sounded that night, the last night they were genuinely together. 

“Stop staring, Torres” 

His eyes widened at the sound of her voice, or rather, the sound of his name leaving her lips, because it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t his first name, or one of the several different nicknames she’d granted him over the years; there was no friendly tone, just venom.

He blinked a few times, brows knit together as he glanced at Sam, who was already looking at him with a curious expression.Sam looked between the both of them, glancing between the woman across from them, then back to Joaquin.

“Wait a goddamn minute, you two know each other?!” 

She scoffed at that, shaking her head. 

“Not anymore.” 

It was cold. Deep down, she knew that the response hurt Joaquin, but when she needed him, he wasn’t there. She hadn’t heard back from him in years. All she could do was sit and bury herself into her academics, striving to be the best of the best in hopes of becoming something or make her family proud.

She remembered the heartbreak she’d felt each time she hadn’t gotten a letter back. Then she sent him her graduation date, an invitation, and had even included a ticket.

He didn’t show up. 

She was alone in the world, left with no family, and she was hurt. Her home was gone, her family was missing, disappearing for what could’ve been forever, and she had nothing but a college degree and the few bins of stuff she’d had left.

The Blip had led to several criminal organizations skyrocketing, and it just so happened that Florida was home to a few of them, organizations that were using illegal alien technology to create weapons of destruction, organizations that had focuses in overthrowing minor governments, organizations that went hand in hand with any and all underground and black market affairs. 

So she’d taken advantage of that, used her brains to actually prove herself, and once they’d found a good use for her, she was helping engineer weapons. Thenshe was helping with mass production on a global front and she’d spent time traveling, doing illegal arms deals, and even wooing other crime bosses. 

That’s how she ended up tied in with Serpent, it wasn’t exactly difficult to hack into their secure systems, nor was it hard to convince them that they needed her, villains without real weapons couldn’t actually do much. Things had gone pretty smoothly until she’d been practically kidnapped, taken to a remote space, and used as a test subject for a new brand of super soldier serum following the arrest of the Flag Smashers.

She wasn’t proud of her actions following the injection, she knew she had blood on her hands, but it wasn’t her fault, not when they’d treated her like a lab rat.

“Okay, we’ll talk about whatever history you two have later. Right now, you need to come clean about your involvement with Serpent, or you’re looking at thirty years in the Raft.” 

She simply shrugged again, raising a brow before glancing down at the photos again. It was very apparent that it was her, and she had been mid argument with Sidewinder, who she should’ve just killed—another regret truly.

Then she lifted her wrists, and the cuffs snapped as if they’d been made of paper.

“That answer your question, Cap?” 

His eyes widened t, glancing from her wrists to the broken steel on the table. Sam watched as she pulled the documents closer, raising a single brow at the different photos and angles from the conversation.

“So it’s true then, they’re still experimenting on people?” 

Sshe laughed at that, nodding her head.

“Sure are, now can we get to the Raft already?, Pretty sure I can break out.-Ddefinitely not as secure as some would believe. I’ll take that sentence now.” She looked at the one way mirror, snapping her fingers a few times, as if she was summoning the cops to arrest her yet again.

“You’re not going to the Raft Sun- Uh- Y/l/n.” 

Sshe glanced back at Joaquin now, shaking her head at him. Any semblance of a smirk had left her face, now it was as if she’d been devoid of any emotion.

“Don’t call me that. You don’t get to call me that anymore.” She clenched her jaw, looking away from him and towards Sam. 

“I can help you. I know you’ve got a plethora of connections in the realm of illegal arms dealing, not to mention you’ve also been the brains behind a lot of the weapons that we’ve found, confiscated, and examined. I like your signature that you leave on them, too.” 

She smirked at that, nodding her head, then sifted through the photos, finding the close up of one of the larger automatic rifles she’d built, except this one relied solely on Chitauri energy-based ammunition. It didn’t need bullets, and she’d engraved the outline of a small bird onto the handle. 

“What can I say? It’s part of the brand. Now, I don’t need help Cap, what I need is to get the hell out of the U.S.” 

He nodded his head at that, pulling some folder papers out of his jacket pocket. Unfolding them, he slid the documents across the table.

“Here are my terms. I can get you a presidential pardon for your crimes, a pardon that would allow you to be back in the states without hiding out. A pardon that would get you a fresh start. But you’re gonna need to start being honest here.” 

Her brows were knit together as she slowly grasped the papers, eyes scanning along the different legal terms as she flipped through the pages.

It was clear that she had to cooperate with Sam if she wanted the pardon. It guaranteed that she’d no longer be deemed as a war criminal ora domestic terrorist. That would also ensure that she’d be able to go back home, to see her family, to be someone else, to be anyone but the person she’d become. 

“If I agree to this, you promise my family’s gonna be alright?” She looked up at Sam. 

 In that moment, he could see through her walls. He could see a scared girl that had lost everyone to the Blip, a girl that had fallen into this lifestyle because it was her only real choice. 

Sam nodded at her, handing her a pen. “If you sign them now, you have my word.” 

She took the pen slowly, jaw clenched as she stared at the pages. It was almost too good to be true. However, a clause that stated any divergence from the very clearly outlined plan, which included court mandated therapy sessions, would result in her imprisonment, bringing her back to reality.

“What the hell do you need from me anyways? I’m not some hero, I don’t even think I count as a good person anymore. Don’t you have more happy and hopeful people like him to recruit?” She motioned towards Joaquin without even looking at him.

Joaquin was dealing with his own inner turmoil, there were so many things he wanted to say to her, so many things that he hadn’t gotten the chance to express. He’d waited years to see her again, and now, even if she was a bit rough around the edges, he felt almost happy to see her and know that she was alright—even if she was a wanted criminal.

But he was disappointed that she’d managed to become what she was now.

“Well, truthfully, you’re smart. Smarter than most. And with your network, we could do a lot of good, starting stateside, and moving from there. Besides, not everyone that does good has to be a hero. Just like not everyone who’s done bad shit, is a bad person.” 

She nodded slowly, then glanced back at the files.

“Sidewinder has a bounty on his head.Some big crime boss in Madripoor is pissed that Serpent didn’t deliver on their end of a large weapons deal a few months back. It was supposed to be some covert scam. They’d get the wired funds, stay stateside, or really anywhere other than Madripoor—y’know places that have real laws, and they’d be able to avoid the consequences.”

She sighed, glancing at the photo. “Tried to get me to speed a few manufacturing processes up.ell, no first he practically threatened me. but y'know the whole serum thing kinda reduces any real threat at this rate. Told me that if I helped him out, I’d get seven million.”

Sam nodded at the information. “Did you take the deal?” 

She simply shrugged then shook her head.“And have a ten million dollar bounty on my head? Hell no. I told him I was out of the business.Besides, can’t really have any high paying deals with shady government officials if I’m legally not supposed to be seen within the United States, or any U.S. territories.” 

Then she signed the contract, putting the pen on top of the indented papers and slide them back to Sam. She still avoided Joaquin’s stare, she had nothing positive to say to him, and the last thing she wanted to hear was a lecture about the person she’d become from the one person that had abandoned her.

Maybe if she wasn’t aware that he didn’t blip, then maybe she wouldn’t have held the grudge. But one of the last letters she’d gotten from him was after the Blip, so she knew he was okay, she knew he was alive.

“Welcome to the team, kid.” Sam placed his right hand out, and she easily grasped it, shaking on the deal.

Baltimore MD, 2027 Five Weeks Prior

If there was a word that could fully describe the relationship between the two former best friends, it would be strained, but that was a severe understatement. Over the past week they’d been staying in the same house in the suburbs of Baltimore county. Sam had stated that Y/n needed to be under constant supervision, mainly because part of him was still a bit weary with her.

He hadn’t given her a reason not to trust her, not yet at least. But with a criminal record as substantial as hers, within the short time span of about four years, she was definitely someone to keep an eye on. 

It wasn’t the first time Sam had opted to help in the rehabilitation of a criminal. To be fair, he’d placed a lot of hope in several different people, and most of the time, they truly did change. There were people like Karli Morgenthau, the former leader of the Flag Smashers that had been victim to the circumstance of the Blip, followed by the reversal of it all.She was willing to do better, willing to change, but it was too late for her.

Sam wouldn’t admit it aloud, but he held a lot of regret whenever he thought of the girl, even if it was several years ago. Some deaths weren’t easily let go of, especially those that could’ve been prevented. 

Maybe that was why he’d had so much faith in Y/n, he knew she wasn’t always the way she is now, that much was confirmed by the long winded rant that Joaquin had gone on the second they were out of the precinct.He’d spoken for what felt like hours about his former childhood best friend, and at some point, Sam had started tuning him out.

Of course Sam was going to be there to support Joaquin, who was clearly in love with his former friend, but at some point in time, he naturally tuned out the constant chatter. 

Things hadn’t gone smoothly whatsoever at the house, mainly because when Joaquin had tried to speak with her, she’d quite literally thrown a pan at him, slammed several doors in his face, sprayed him with a water hose, and had even opted to fully abandon her meals just to get away from him. She did eventually come back and clean up after herself, but at the moment, she wanted nothing to do with him.

When he tried to sit with her in silence, she’d roll her eyes and storm off. 

She hadn’t said a single word to him, and he was still doing his best to make amends with her, even though he really didn’t know what he had to make up for.

Today was no different, she’d ignored him and acted as if he didn’t exist, any time he’d enter a shared common space, she’d leave. It didn’t matter if she was in the middle of doing something, she’d find a way to leave as swiftly as possible.

Joaquin was over it, completely and utterly over it.

But before he could attempt to be confrontational and most likely get his ass kicked, there were several knocks at the front door, and of course, he was the one to open it.

In the doorway stood Dr. Christina Raynor, the same therapist that had worked with Bucky Barnes following his presidential pardon journey. It had taken several phone calls, and a lot of flaunting the title of Captain America for Sam to actually get her to do house calls for Y/n. It wasn’t exactly easy, and he didn’t trust that she’d be able to go to her appointments on a consistent basis. 

So he brought the appointments to her.

“Ah, Captain Torres. You’re not the person I’m here for, but a lovely surprise nonetheless.” She motioned for him to step aside, and when he did, she entered the home.

She’d taken a few minutes to look around. It wasn’t the fanciest of homes, but it was a nice house to live in, with three bedrooms total, a few bathrooms, and two floors, not including the basement. The place was small, but it didn’t feel small, it was nice, cozy even. 

It made sense why Sam chose a place like this for her. 

“So where is she? I’m sure she’s well aware of our appointment today.” Joaquin’s brows knit together. Truthfully, he wasn’t even aware of the appointment. Then again, it’s not like Y/n had said a single word to him over the past seven days. If her nonverbal communication said anything, it was that she didn’t want a single thing to do with him.

“Uh, upstairs, probably. We don’t really talk much.” 

She slowly nodded her head at him.“And why is that? Sam said the two of you knew each other well.” 

He scratched the back of his neck, glancing towards the staircase, then back at Dr. Raynor.

“Well, we did.We grew up together in Miami, but then she went to college and I enlisted, and then the Blip happened, and it’s been a while. So, we know each other, but I don’t think well would be the right way to describe it.”

She observed him as if she was taking note of everything he’d been saying. It gave Joaquin a minor spark of anxiety, but he chose to ignore it, closing the front door, then proceeding to guide her in the direction of the room that Y/n had occupied.

He knocked on the door several times, and the silence that followed was mildly concerning.

“Hello, it’s Dr. Raynor, here for our three o’ clock appointment.” 

The door opened, and at the sight of Joaquin, she rolled her eyes, but then she glanced at Dr. Raynor.  The older woman stared directly at her, so Y/n stepped to the side, motioning for her to come in before slamming the door in Joaquin’s face. 

“So, Joaquin tells me that you two grew up together. I think for today’s sessions, we should start there.” Y/n blinked a few times, watching as Dr. Raynor moved towards the windows, pulling one of the few chairs in the room with her, leaving it closest to the window, then took another and left it across the room.She took a seat at the one furthest from the window, opting to cross one leg over the other. 

Y/n was hesitant as she sat down, arms crossed in front of her chest, a look of irritation on her features.“We grew up together. A lot of people grow up together, what's the big deal?” The negativity in her tone was unmistakable, that in combination with her clenched jaw, stiff posture, and now shaking leg, emphasized not only the anger in her words, but the stress in her body.

“Well, Sam tells me that you’ve pretty recently started going downhill, sorry, not really a better way to say that. Don’t worry I won’t make you make amends with the people you’ve wronged and go through some long winded process to make things better. Truthfully, most of the time, you can’t make things from the past better, but you can work on the future. But, that does rely on looking back a bit, pinpointing the start of all of this.”

She groaned, shaking her head.“I know how it all started, I don’t need a shrink to psychoanalyze me and tell me when I turned into a shitty person.” 

Dr. Raynor nodded, watching as Y/n glanced outside, her gaze focused on the neighborhood around them.“Okay, so tell me about that then.” 

She thought the girl would fight, but she didn't; she just took a deep breath and nodded her head.

Joaquin stood outside of the room, hesitating as he debated leaving or eavesdropping, he knew it was wrong of him to stay, but he also wanted to know what went wrong, what caused all of this. More importantly, he wanted to know how to fix it. 

But he knew this wasn’t the right way to fix things, so he headed down the hall, opting to go back downstairs and get back to work. He had a few systems that needed some adjustments, so he’d occupy himself with that for now.

Her eyes traced the skyline, taking in the angular tilts of every rooftop against the soft blue hues of the sky. She hated talking about the Blip, she hated even thinking about it. There wasn’t a time that she’d ever felt so lost and so alone.

“After the Blip, I mean, to be fair I was okayish the first year, but my family was blipped away, and with my shit luck, all of my friends were also blipped away. Well, except for Torres, but at that point he’d already been deployed. We still talked for a while at least, he wrote me and I wrote him, then maybe two years in, he uh, he stopped writing Or maybe he didn’t, but I stopped getting them.” 

She blinked a few times, trying to ignore the burn of tears welling in her eyes as she avoided Dr. Raynor’s gaze.

“I dunno, I was just alone. I did keep writing though, and I drowned myself in my academics. I interned for all of the big major hard hitters, I had merit scholarships that I was positive I didn’t really deserve because someone more capable was most likely blipped away. But y’know, it was a good distraction.”

She paused again, this time wiping a few tears away, Dr. Raynor took minimal notes, mostly on her mannerisms rather than her history.

“Then I graduated, and no one was there, and I went back home, and no one was there either, then the county took my family’s house. I went to court, but I was poor and I couldn’t afford a good lawyer, so they won. They won and they took my family’s house.” 

Raynor nodded her head, raising a single brow at the very clear emotion. Prior to this, based on her file, the few interrogation tapes she’d viewed, and what she’d gathered from Sam, the girl in front of her wasn’t very emotional. She was meticulous, logical, and a complete smart ass.

This was a good sign.

“Tell me about the house.” 

She nodded, eyes still focused outside.“My great grandfather had purchased the land when they migrated over, it took him decades to buy it. He’d worked for twenty years before he was able to afford it. Even back then, when inflation wasn’t kicking everyone’s ass, it was still hard for an immigrant to get something as solid as land. Over the years my family has always lived in that house. It’s been passed down through the generations. Or at least, it was until they took it from us.”

She let out a deep breath, wiping away a few more tears.

“I grew up there y’know, my brothers are all older than me by at least eight years, then I met Quino, and we spent years causing a ruckus there. I don’t think I really have a singular bad memory being there, from being home.”

She sighed, running a hand along her face for a moment before turning to face Dr. Raynor.

“My parents got the house back, and this time I had the money, sure it was dirty money, but I got them the lawyer after the blip, I couldn’t even go see them physically, I’d already had too many warrants in the U.S., but I made sure we had what was ours again.”

Dr. Raynor nodded her head, glancing down at her watch for a moment.

“I want you to tell me about your family.” 

The two spent the next thirty minutes speaking about Y/n’s family, starting from her grandparents who were both deceased, to her parents, to her siblings that she hadn’t spoken to in years. She’d even mentioned Joaquin’s family, stating that they weren’t blood relatives, but they were still family nonetheless.

That’s also how Dr. Raynor found out that Joaquin’s mother had been Blipped away.

By the time that the session was over, Y/n had cried more than she’d cried in the past three years, and she actually felt a little better about the world, maybe therapy wasn’t just some ‘mumbo jumbo’ that they tried to force onto people. Then again, it could’ve also been the simple act of having the opportunity to actually speak with someone about her issues that had made her feel better.

She was quick to walk Dr. Raynor out, but when heading downstairs, she realized that Joaquin was no longer alone.Based on the loud voices and laughter, Sam was also present, along with someone else.

Sam rounded the corner, a wide smile on his face as he said his hellos to Dr. Raynor, shaking her hand for a moment before glancing at Y/n, taking in her bloodshot eyes

“Session go well then?”

“As well as pouring my heart and soul out to a complete stranger can go.”

Washington D.C., 2027, Four Weeks Prior

“Sam this is stupid, I’m not gonna waltz into the White House and ask for a damn expedite on a pardon from the Hulk Hunter of all people!” 

He shushed her, making eye contact through the rear view mirror as he drove. She sighed, brows knit together, frustration evident in her features.

It was bad enough he had her wearing business professional attire. There was nothing that she hated more than dressing up, especially in blazers and button ups, not to mention the obnoxious pencil skirt that he insisted she wear. This had to have been her own personal hell.

Maybe that was it, she’d died and was forced to live in this lifetime as a karmic cycle.

Then, to make matters worse, Joaquin was currently sitting in the front seat of the SUV, doing his best not to look back at her, knowing she’d probably find something to throw at him, or worse, she’d curse at him again.

Over the past few days she’d moved on from giving him the complete silent treatment, which might’ve been nice if she wasn’t verbally assaulting him any chance she’d get. It made sense that she would want to push him away, but being cursed out constantly was the last thing he needed.

Joaquin was getting tired of it. 

He was beyond frustrated with her, especially given the fact that Sam had practically dropped him off with her and stated that he was the best bet for ‘fixing her’ as if she needed to be fixed. What she needed was a hug, or maybe a xanax, he had no idea, but Joaquin knew the last thing she needed was him.

Sure they’d grown up together, but they were drastically different at this point.

“Well, you can’t start on a new foot if you’re dragging a ball and chain the size of Australia with you everywhere you go.” 

Y/n knew that Sam had a point, but she didn’t want to accept that.She was looking down at her hands, her left thumb nervously running along the thin scar decorating her right palm.“I didn’t even do anything that bad.” 

Sam laughed at that, shaking his head.“Yes, because contributing to several global wars by distributing biomechanical alien tech based weapons isn’t anything bad. Not to mention working with several major underground crime families.” 

She shushed him, kneeing his chair like an angry little kid on a long car ride.

“To be fair, at least you didn’t really kill anyone.” 

She rolled her eyes at Joaquin’s input, glaring at him from her seat.

“Also, not technically true, Joaquin.” Sam nodded as he spoke, finally making it through the plethora of security gates and guards, being able to actually park the car in the underground garage that was typically utilized for staff-only vehicles. 

Y/n was relatively silent as she got out of the car, adjusting her skirt uncomfortably before following Sam’s lead, rolling her eyes at Joaquin when he walked beside her.

When they were younger, they always walked together, and she remembered the way that she’d gravitate towards Joaquin, linking her pinky with his, especially when she was nervous about something. She felt as if she was fighting that part of herself, doing her best to ignore what was probably her inner child—or at least that’s what Dr. Raynor described it as.

He chose the worst time to extend an olive branch, she flinched the second his hand brushed against hers. At first she assumed it was an accident, but the second time she took a few steps away from him, putting some distance between them both.

She hated being patted down, but , it was part of the process, and as the security did so all she could do was roll her eyes and hold her arms up. 

Sam gave her a pointed look when they stood in front of the oval office doors.

“It’s now or never kid, time to right your wrongs.ell, at least start righting your wrongs.”

She nodded slowly, running her thumb along the scar on her palm again as she followed Sam and Joaquin inside.

Truthfully, the entire time that President Ross spoke, she simply nodded her head, offering faint and forced smiles, doing her best not to have a fully fledged panic attack. She could practically feel the anxiety thrumming through her heart, and it was getting harder to breathe, she needed to relax, needed to calm down.

Then the President shook her hand and she had no idea what he was saying, she just nodded her head at him, eyes a bit glossy as she fought the nervous tears.

Joaquin noticed it first, he could see how stiff she was. It wasn’t normal, or at least, it wasn’t what he was now used to. She looked almost afraid, or maybe it was panic. Then he noticed her rubbing her palm, and he knew it was panic, she’d always done that, it started when they were kids, and now it was resurfacing.

He excused himself, and in the process, also excused her, a single hand on her lower back, guiding her with him as they stepped out of the office, leaving Sam and President Ross to speak with one another. 

She didn’t have the energy to curse at him, she needed some air.

Joaquin guided her movements, taking her to one of the smaller more secluded gardens outside, a place that most of the public wasn’t allowed.

“Sunshine, you need to breathe.” 

She nodded her head at him, vision a bit hazy as she tried to focus on breathing. She hadn’t realized that her panicking had gotten this bad, the anxiety practically surging through her, she was too busy overthinking about everything she’d done over the past four years, trying to piece together the fuzzy pieces, trying to remember who she really was.

It was clear that just talking to her wasn’t helping, so he stepped forward, gently placing one hand on the side of her face, practically caressing her warm skin as he held eye contact with her.

“I need you to breathe. You’re okay, everythings okay. Ross approved the pardon, you just need to follow through with Dr. Raynor. You’ll be alright, Sunshine”. He spoke slowly and quietly, and for the first time in a long time, he felt as if he was really seeing her.“Take a deep breath. Exactly, in and out—just like that.” 

She nodded along, following his lead until she finally felt like her heart wasn’t going to beat out of her own chest. 

There was something calming about Joaquin, and maybe if she’d genuinely let him in again, she would know that it was just his presence overall that calmed her down. 

But it was never that easy.

Then she was shoving him away from her, blinking a few times when she finally realized how close they were.

She let out a cynical laugh, shaking her head at him. “Can’t you just leave me the hell alone?!” He stared for a moment, face void of any emotion for a few seconds.

“What the hell is your problem, Sunshine! I mean come on, I’ve been trying to talk to you for two weeks.I haven’t seen you in almost ten years at this point, and God, I’m so tired of this weird silent treatment, oh lets be mean as hell to Joaquin fiasco. I just want to be there for you!” his voice was getting louder as he ranted to her. 

“Seriously?!” she raised both brows at his outburst, rolling her eyes.

When she tried to walk away, he stepped in front of her, blocking her way, knowing she couldn’t exactly shove him. They were at the White House for her presidential pardon, any and everything that she did could easily get it ripped away from her.

“Stop calling me that! It’s not my freaking name!” Her voice was loud as she yelled at him, swatting his extended arm away from her, he rolled his eyes, letting out a deep sigh, shaking his head.

“I don’t give a shit if it’s your name, I’ve always called you Sunshine! What the hell is so different now?!” 

She let out another cynical laugh at that, fighting the urge to shove him away from her.

“Everything is different Torres! Every single fucking thing is different! You’re arguing with me in a garden outside of the damn White House where I have to get a fucking presidential pardon because I’m a god damn criminal. But you…Torres, you’re a freakin Avenger! We’ve never been more different!” Her voice cracked as she yelled back at him, her eyes burned as she felt them start to water, and she did her best to make sure she wouldn’t shed a single tear around him.

“It doesn’t have to be! You don’t have to be like that anymore! It’s a fresh start for a reason! You’re so god damn stubborn that you refuse to see yourself as anything but what you’ve been over the past few years. Newsflash,Sunshine, the Blip wasn’t good to all of us.It brought out the worst in a lot of people! You don’t have to be that same person anymore!” 

She shook her head at that.“What the hell would you know about what happened to me? You weren’t even there. Do you know how many times I wrote to you?! How many days I stayed up hoping that maybe I’d hear back from the one person I knew was still around?” Her voice cracked again as she spoke, her bottom lip quivering by the time she’d finished shouting at him. Her heart was practically pounding and her ears were ringing, her skin was flushed and all she could focus on was trying not to cry, trying to hold it all in.

She hated crying.

Once the first tear fell, it was as if the floodgates had been unleashed. She couldn’t hold it in, but she wouldn’t allow herself to break down, not like this. So she turned on her heel, hands clenched in fists as she started walking down the stone path, steadying her breath as she shook her head.

But his voice had her stopping in her tracks, still turned away from him. 

“You think I didn’t write you? Do you know the kind of shit I had to see when I was overseas, the shit I wished I had someone to talk to about?! I never stopped writing to you! Then I waited and waited for your letters! They were the only thing that got me through in the beginning, you were the only one.” 

He was exhausted, he’d been exhausted for years. Sure he’d found productive distractions, he’d even found parts of himself he’d thought he lost after the Blip. But there was always something missing, and that something had been her. She’d always been there, she was one of the largest constants in his life, then suddenly, things got hard, and she’d been gone.

She wasn’t the only one who had felt loss, that had felt that sense of loneliness.

But he didn’t know how to say that, he didn’t know how to let her know that he’d been hurting too, that the hurt hadn’t just gone away. But it wasn’t numbing, not like it had been that first year they’d lost contact. He’d managed to stay busy, working his ass off in the Air Force, using his own skill set, and expanding on it. 

He’d spent years drowning himself in work, sure he still had family back home, but it wasn’t easy going home, it wasn’t feasible for the most part. He’d been overseas for years, and in all of that time, he’d hardly gotten to speak to any of his family or friends. But he did his best to not let that loneliness overcome him.

So he’d done his best to show his superiors that he wasn’t just intelligent and athletic, but also diligent, committed, and useful.

That’s how he’d ended up meeting Sam that day in Tunisia, after years of climbing the ranks. There was so much he wanted to tell her, so much that she wouldn’t hear.

His voice cracked as he spoke “You act like I forgot you, I’ve never forgotten you, Sunshine.” 

She shook her head at that. Looking down at the ground, feeling the tears falling faster.“I don’t wanna hear that from you. Now leave me the hell alone Torres”

Then she walked away, heels clicking against the pavement as she walked through the lush space, shaking her head while wiping away her tears.

Baltimore M.D., Three Weeks Prior

“I’m not avoiding the question!” Y/n shook her head, jaw clenched as she stared at Dr. Raynor. They were currently sitting in the living room of the house that Sam had called her ‘new temporary home’. 

She was seated on the large burnt orange sofa in the middle of the room, one leg crossed on the oversized cushion she sat on, the other extended in front of her, foot resting on the edge of the small glass coffee table in the room. She held a throw pillow in her lap, glaring at Dr. Raynor who sat across from her, except in the room itself, she was technically diagonal as the recliner she sat in was angled away.

Of course the small brown leather bound notebook was still in her hand alongside a black ink pen that she jotted down notes with.

The woman sighed, adjusting her glasses as she glanced back down at the notebook, clearly making a note of Y/n’s defensive behavior.

“Yes, yes you are avoiding the question, It was a simple ask, what do you think your genuine purpose is? I’m not asking for an essay, most people have some kind of answer, some would say to work, others would say to help, I’ve even had clients say their last purpose is to make amends. If you don’t have an answer—then that itself is an answer as well. But you? You’ve completely disregarded the question”.

Y/n sighed, shaking her head again as she glanced down at her hands, the skin around her cuticles were peeling, some of it red, some of it scabbed, from her constant need to pick or fidget. 

The question was simple in thought. Dr. Raynor had asked the question ten minutes ago, and for the past ten minutes, Y/n had done her best to avoid it, opting to bring up random thoughts, extend on previous things, and ask her therapist questions instead. 

She knew for a fact she’d been avoiding the doctor’s question. 

Mainly because she’d always thought her purpose would be to do something good, something great even. To find the next biggest scientific discovery, to use her smarts for the benefit of helpful research, to engineer something substantial, to expand upon biomedical sciences and studies. 

Instead she was technically an ex-arms dealer, the engineer behind a series of potentially country-ending-weapons and machinery, a contributor to several global wars, and a literal felon with a criminal record. Not to mention the fact that she couldn’t leave the jurisdiction of the State of Maryland or Washington D.C. without pre-approved supervision.

She used to believe that maybe, on the simplest level, her purpose was to help those in need. To help those who were sick, those who were wounded, those injured in wars, but instead, she was part of the reason for those injuries in wars.

“Okay, so I don’t have an answer then.” 

Dr. Raynor shook her head “now you’re just lying to me, y’know for a global criminal considered a national threat, you’re a horrible liar” she took a note of that as well.

Y/n sighed, looking up at Dr. Raynor then back down at her hands, specifically at her right palm, running her left thumb over it again. Tracing the scar, back and forth, several times over. 

The only reason they’d had today’s therapy session in the living room was because Joaquin had been called into work late last night, some local mission that Sam needed intelligence backup on. It worked out perfectly, she’d finally gotten a day of peace and quiet.

That and her usual therapy session didn’t need to be in the mess that was her room, and Dr. Raynor wouldn’t be able to jot down any notes about the disastrous state that the bedroom was in.

“Fine. When I was a kid, I wanted to help people. Do something good y’know, my mom always said with as smart as I was, I’d be able to find the cure to the most untreatable diseases. I uh, I remember when Quin—Torres, uh yeah, Torres, would tell me that I’d be able to make a real difference for people like us y’know, people who grew up in poor areas with shit access to things like health care and real genuine medical treatments. But it all seems so far-fetched now.”

She took a deep breath after that, finally looking over at Dr. Raynor, who’s brows were knit together as she listened, then she took another note, it was short, and quick.

“You do know that you still have time to do that, right? In a world like this, where aliens, gods, and superheros are all real, there’s really no such thing as an aspiration that’s far-fetched,”

“That’s what Quino used to say to me, said we could be anything since aliens were real,” she smiled, shaking her head while looking down at her palms again.

“Tell me about your friendship with Joaquin.” 

She coughed at first, slightly taken aback before shaking her head at Dr. Raynor. 

“I’m being serious, I’d like to know more about your past, and he seems to be a consistent figure” 

She sighed, nodding her head “I dunno, like I said before, we grew up together, we were best friends for years, our families are friends, they always told us we’d get married someday, that way our families could just be one big family y’know. We were close for a long time, he was my closest confidant.”

The session ended shortly after that, mainly because time had run out, and Y/n had nothing to really respond with, sure the words of encouragement were nice, and even if they made complete sense from a logical perspective, morally, Y/n didn’t think she really deserved a second chance.

Maybe that was why this entire predicament was so difficult. It was hard to adjust, hard to accept that Sam Wilson had really given her a second chance, that maybe she’d actually be able to do some good and be able to actually help people instead of hurt them.

She’d sat in the living room once Dr. Raynor had left, opting to use one of the large throw blankets on the couch, covering herself to get comfortable, eventually opting to lay down, TV now on as she mindlessly scrolled through the channels, well at least, things were mindless until Y/n caught the local News.

Then her eyes widened as she sat up swiftly, a recorded footage feed showing Captain America and the Falcon mid air, both fighting what looked to be missiles over the Indian Ocean. She wasn’t even sure if they were actually fighting, it looked more like they were trying to lure them away, and at first they’d been doing a great job.

Then Joaquin had been hit, and not only had he been hit, he’d crash landed into the Indian Ocean. Based on the timestamps on the footage, that had happened almost four hours ago.

It was like she was on autopilot, immediately standing up, eyes wide as she rushed to gather her things and put on whatever clothes she could quickly find. Sam had mentioned that if anything ever happened, they’d be rushed to the hospital at the air force base twenty minutes outside of Washington D.C., so what did Y/n decide to do? 

Steal Joaquin’s keys and drive herself to that hospital.

It didn’t help that she’d been questioned at the security gate, and then they’d also tried arresting her, which did lead to a very unnecessary fight, but she defended herself by stating they’d triggered her fight or flight response by putting their hands on her first and practically ripping her out of the car that was registered in Joaquin’s name.

To be fair, she’d even told them that they’d been living together, and that he should’ve been flown in by then, or at the very least, he’d be arriving shortly. She had also tried showing them the paperwork that Sam had provided to her, all of it had been filed electronically, notarized, and in the legal sense, it was concrete proof that she was no longer a wanted criminal.

Technically, she wasn’t exactly a regular civilian either. There was some subclass that she’d fallen under after being experimented on, and then, of course, being a former enemy of the state wasn’t the best title for someone actively trying to get onto a military base, especially when they had zero military clearance or involvement.

It had taken two additional hours for her to actually get to the hospital on base, and the only reason they hadn’t fully arrested her was because Sam had managed to find her. 

The walk to the hospital, and through the halls was quiet. Sure there was the general noise and ambiance of a hospital, plus the stench of alcohol and antiseptics, and the ongoing background chatter between staff and patients, plus the beeping of different machines, but between Y/n and Sam, they were silent.

Sam felt guilty, guilty for it all, as if it was his fault that this had happened.The past twenty four hours had been miserable, everything that could’ve gone wrong, had gone wrong. He’d even gotten guidance from Bucky Barnes of all people, sure he loved Buck, but at the same time, getting guidance from one of the least level-headed people he knew was tragic.

Now he had to deal with Y/n, who he practically ripped away from several military police after she’d taken down two of their guards after claiming that they’d hit her first. Truthfully, he wouldn’t be shocked if they had acted with aggression towards the girl, her record was beyond worrisome and she did have several red flags that equated to violent tendencies.

But he also knew that she was worried, the concern was practically oozing off of her. 

She acted as if she hated Joaquin, but Sam knew that she was just hurt, and it was the kind of hurt that would take time to heal. It wasn’t exactly easy for her to go back to normal, especially when the past five years have been anything but normal.

They walked side by side, neither wanting to be the first to speak, at least until they’d reached the door to the room he was currently admitted into. It was a recovery room, he’d just gotten out of surgery about half an hour ago, his entire right shoulder had been burned and partially broken, not to mention the bits and pieces of metal that had pierced through his skin from his suit, wings, and the shrapnel from the missile. 

With the blinds to Joaquin’s room being open, Y/n could see him lying in the hospital bed, elevated, from where she stood.  His upper body had been bandaged, but she could see bits and pieces of his burnt skin along his jawline and his neck. 

He even had a few cuts and scrapes on his face, but they weren’t major, not like the burns, breaks, and fractures. 

It broke her heart to see him like that.

“Y’know, he really needs you right now. He’s probably needed you for a long time. Same way you’ve needed him.” 

She nodded her head at Sam, jaw clenched and brows knit together, as she blinked rapidly, trying to force the tears away at the sight of Joaquin unconscious in the hospital bed.

“I can’t do this Sam.” With that she’d walked off in the opposite direction, wiping her tears away as fast as possible, but it was no use, they’d kept falling.

Washington D.C. Air Force Base, Two Weeks Prior

To say that it was easy getting Y/n on and off base over the time span of a week would’ve been a bold faced lie, Sam had to pull several strings for it to happen, especially considering her not so subtle fight with several members of their military police unit. It would’ve been easier if she hadn't won the fight by a landslide. He had to pull the Captain America card several times, and even stated that he was taking her under his wing.

Once she was officially allowed on base, and considering that’s also where his main headquarters was based out of, it was much easier for her to have somewhere to be while Joaquin was in the hospital on the opposite end of the Air Force campus. She hadn’t gone to see him again, instead she’d spent her time bothering Sam, hacking into random systems, and going through their records.

She’d even managed to pull the records on the super soldier serum that she’d been injected with, she found out its origins, even found records of illegal tests, experiments, and medical data from overseas that had been discovered through a series of raids and top secret missions.

Every single day Sam would ask if she wanted to go see him, he’d try to convince her, and she’d always decline. He’d even mentioned that Joaquin had asked for her a few times. 

Although he wasn’t fully conscious. 

So she’d decided that maybe it was time to go see him, she couldn’t hide from seeing him forever.Sure she was mean to him, and she did push him away, but she’d never ever wished harm onto him, and she never would. At one point in time he’d meant the world to her, and if Dr. Raynor was right about anything, she was right about the fact that Y/n needed to work on opening up to people again, and letting them in.

So she left Sam’s office space and made her way to the hospital, glaring at a few officers that had given her questioning looks. By the time she’d made it to the hospital she was nervous, so nervous that she couldn’t bring herself to go into his room, she’d managed to get directions to his floor and now she was standing outside of the door, arms crossed as she tried to give herself a mental pep talk.

Then her soul had practically left her body the second an older woman spoke to her.

“Going inside sweetheart? You’ve been out here for about twenty two minutes now.” 

Y/n slowly shook her head at the older nurse, taking note of her badge that read ‘Shirley ICU RN’. Her hair was fully grey and pulled up into a ponytail, she couldn’t have been taller than Joaquin’s abuela—the woman standing at a whopping 5’1—and she was full of life.

“Uh no, I don’t think he’d want me in there with him, not the person I am today at least.” 

She shook her head at that, raising a single brow.“I think it sounds like you don’t want to be in there because of the person you are today, y’know, I saw the way you looked at him when you’d first came last week. I don’t know your history with Captain Torres, but I know he means a lot to you. Remember sweetheart, holding grudges only does harm in the end, it’s easier to forgive and keep moving forward.”

With that she reassuringly patted Y/n’s forearm, offered another smile, then made her way down the hall towards another room.

When Sam had gone looking for Y/n to ask if she was going to come see Joaquin today, she wasn’t there, and naturally he , but after about fifteen minutes he’d found the note that she left on his desk that read ‘Going to go see him’.

That’s how he found her sitting in the uncomfortably stiff cushioned chair beside his hospital bed, tear stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes, looking right at Joaquin as she held his right hand with her own, or rather she held onto his right hand even though his stayed open.

She hadn’t noticed Sam at first, too busy sniffling as her eyes kept retracing the burns along his shoulder and neck, the previous dressing had been removed, the nurses stating that it would be good for the burn to ‘breathe’—whatever the hell that meant. Sam had also watched as she reached over with her left hand, slightly brushing the loose curls along his hairline back.

He was typically very put together, his hair never really fell out of place, and Y/n knew that, he’d always been particular about how he liked his hair.

She shook her head at him, eyes tracing each and every ridge, line, and curve of his face. 

“You’re such an asshole,” she’d mumbled, looking at him.

“Glad you finally gave him a visit.” 

Her eyes widened as she sat up, left hand instantly moving away from Joaquin, but she’d instinctively squeezed his right/ The moment she was about to respond to Sam with a witty remark, Joaquin had squeezed her hand.

Sam caught the movement too, his eyes widening as he approached the bed, now standing at the foot of it as he glanced at Joaquin, who’s features were slowly but surely moving, brows knit together, his eyes squeezed shut even harder, then he slowly opened them, blinking a few times, struggling to adjust to the bright fluorescent lights in combination with the sun shining in from outside.

“S-sunshine?” his voice was hoarse, throat dry, and he was confused as he started to process everything around him.

“Glad to see you’re finally waking up, kid” 

He slowly nodded his head, easily seeing Sam in front of him, however he didn’t register Y/n next to him, not until he went to move his hand and realized someone was holding it, then he shifted his head a bit, rolling it to the side, a little groggy still as his vision focused on the woman beside him.

He could feel her squeezing his hand, and he let out a slight laugh. Although it didn’t really sound like a laugh, more like a dry breathy cough.

Then one of the nurses walked into the room, she was an older woman who had taken the time to speak with Y/n before she’d gone into the hospital room, giving her a few pieces of helpful advice about actually being there for someone. 

The nurse smiled at the sight of Joaquin waking up, and she approached the bed with a small cup of water, taking the time to raise his bed, letting him sit up a bit more before helping him with the water.

The entire time Y/n didn’t let go of his hand, and he’d made the effort to hold onto hers as well.

“It’s good you’re awake Captain Torres, we were getting a bit worried about our resident hero.” 

He nodded his head groggily, smiling slightly.

Her assessment took about ten minutes, she’d asked him several questions to see what he remembered to judge his cognitive function, and she’d also asked him to move certain body parts of his, which he could mostly do. It was a bit uncomfortable, but it showed that while he was injured, it wasn’t anything debilitating.

Everyone was quiet as she took his vitals, making several notes before letting them know that she’d let his care team know that he was awake.

He finally looked over at Y/n again, a small smile on his face “Sunshine, how long was I out?” His voice was still hoarse, but it sounded a bit better, as if he was getting used to talking again.

“Consistently? A week, but they said you were in and out for the first week.” 

He nodded his head at that before looking over at Sam. “Did I at least look cool in the air?” 

She lightly slapped him on his side, meanwhile Sam shook his head, hands in his pockets with a small smile on his face.

“Yes, you looked cool in the air. Now I’m gonna give you two some time.I’ll be back in a bit, I’m sure you have a lot to talk about." With that, he left the room, closing the door behind him.

Joaquin took a deep breath, now looking over at her again, meanwhile she did her best to avoid his stare, gaze moving around the room, taking in the small details that she truly didn’t care for such as the small crack in the drywall above the door, the several wires behind the bed, all tangled as they connected the medical machinery to the bed, a power source, and most importantly Joaquin.

She’d even realized that the table on the opposite side of him didn’t match the table closest to her, it was clearly the older version of the side table.

“Have you been crying?” 

She rolled her eyes at him, silently nodding her head 

“Why?” 

That had her looking at him as if he had three heads, eyes squinted as she craned her neck back a bit.“Why have I been crying? I dunno because I had to watch you get shot out of the air by a goddamn missile then crash land into the ocean? Plus you’ve been hospitalized for two weeks, one of which involved a medically induced coma?!” 

He slowly nodded his head, squeezing her hand again.

“I thought you hated me.” 

She took a deep breath at that, jaw clenched as she shook her head.“No you moron, I don’t hate you, I just—I dunno okay Dr. Raynor has had me thinking and I guess talking to Nurse Shirley and just—just-fuck shut up!” 

He nodded his head slowly at her frustration, he was still a little groggy, and it was clear that whatever pain medications they had him on were strong.

He looked down at himself, doing his best to see his lower chest and lower body, noticing the few wires and patches under his hospital gown, and he’d even been able to see the burn along his chest, it was clear he’d screwed up going after that missile, he just wanted to impress Sam. Hell, he wanted to impress the entire world.

“I missed you, y’know.”

She shook her head at his words, bottom lip quivering.“Of course you did” 

He nodded at that, now looking at her again, and this time, she couldn’t help but get closer, leaning into his space as she brushed his curls away from his face, doing her best to fix his hair. He smiled at her look of focus, the same concentrated look that she’d had since they were kids.

Her brows were furrowed and it was clear that she’d been biting her tongue slightly with her teeth, lips barely spread as she focused on what she was doing.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come to your graduation, I didn’t get the letter on time.”

His voice was quiet, and that was what finally broke her, the tears were flowing along her cheeks while she looked at him, shaking her head as she nodded.

“I’m sorry I held it against you, but Jesus, I’ve never felt more alone, I didn’t have anyone. Then I needed you and you just, you weren’t there—and it hurt so fucking bad.” 

He nodded at that, a singular tear of his own sliding down his face. “It was hard, wasn’t it?” 

She nodded at his question, sniffling, squeezing his hand a little tighter.Harder than anything I’ve ever experienced. I guess that's why it was so easy to fall into shitty habits and routines.” 

He nodded at that, eyes trailing along her figure, taking in her disheveled state. She’d been stressed, that much was obvious.“Yeah, you’ve got quite the rap sheet now.” He was teasing her, and for a second, things felt normal, it felt like they were seventeen in Miami again, going back and forth with each other while sitting outside on the hood of her dad’s truck. 

“What can I say, being a criminal mastermind was quite the regrettable career choice out of college.” 

He raises both brows.“I’d say so, too.” 

And in that moment, they’d both realized that she was still close to him, she could’ve moved at any point in time, but she didn’t. His eyes took in the details of her face, slowly but surely taking note of everything that had changed about her over the years, there wasn’t much, truthfully she looked almost the same, just a little older now.

The same way that he’d grown up, so had she.

Then he was leaning forward, ignoring the radiating pain from his shoulder and his ribcage, slowly lifting his left hand until it was resting against her face.

Neither of them had moved away.

Her gaze had shifted from his eyes to his lips, back and forth, and she wasn’t sure if it was the overwhelming emotions rushing through her, or the close proximity of Joaquin, or maybe even a mixture of both, but she’d been the one to lean closer, connecting their lips.

The kiss was soft and careful, just as it was sweet and gentle. 

He smiled against her lips, they moved slowly in sync with one another, and she squeezed his right hand again, her left hand now finding its way to his jaw as she kissed him.

Once they’d finally pulled apart she rested her forehead against his.“Promise me you won’t get shot out of the fucking sky again” 

He laughed. “Only if you promise me you won’t go back to being a war criminal.” 

She rolled her eyes, giving him one last quick peck before standing up fully. “I mean, I guess I could give Sam’s plan a shot.”

Washington D.C. Air Force Base, Present Day

Joaquin’s major rehabilitation plan involved a multitude of physical therapy, specialist visits, and most importantly, he had to stay on base. Meaning, he couldn’t leave the Air Force base unless it was on a work related trip that didn’t involve being the Falcon.

Even after sustaining his injuries the doctors were a bit shocked that he was up and moving around so quickly, it’d been about two weeks since his accident, and one week since he’d been fully awake and functional. They tried to get him to stay in the hospital, stating that they would be able to move him to a more comfortable room, but he swiftly declined, stating that if he had to be on base, he’d prefer to be in his office space, considering it also had a somewhat private attached living quarters.

It wasn’t the biggest living area, it was practically the size of a studio apartment, but it was enough for him to actually have his own space. Well, almost his own space.

Instead of him being Y/n’s babysitter, she was his. 

Sam had advised her that he trusted her enough at this point to make sure Joaquin was alright, it also helped that the two of them were on a genuine speaking basis again, and following their kiss two weeks ago, they’d been friends again.

They truly were the epitome of old friends that could catch up in the time span of an hour, it was as if nothing had changed, as if they hadn’t gone nine years without seeing one another. 

The day that he’d woken up, following their kiss, they’d talked for hours about anything and everything. She’d told him about the less than legal activities that she’d been involved in, even did her best to describe her stint in Madripoor before and after being injected with the serum. That was something that did worry Joaquin, especially considering she couldn’t really piece those memories all the way together.

But she’d reassured him that there were no lasting harmful side effects of the serum, her body had adjusted to it, and now it was just a part of her whether she liked it or not.

He’d told her about his different missions, even let her know about the day that he’d met Sam, which she did tease him about, knowing that the Falcon was his childhood hero. 

Then he was moved into the lackluster studio space attached to his shared office with Sam, and Y/n had spent two days cleaning and organizing it, the first day was about cleaning, the second she’d been driving to Baltimore to get their things, then she’d practically bullied some of the men that typically worked under Joaquin into helping her move things.

Sure she could’ve done it on her own, but everything was bulky all together and it would’ve taken more than one trip.

Joaquin still hadn’t fully processed that Y/n was fully back in his life again, she’d apologized profusely for the way she’d been treating him, he knew that she was hurting, he also knew that she wasn’t the best when it came to coping with her emotions. 

He’d forgiven her a week into having her back in his life.

But she didn’t need to know that, nor did she need to know that she had him wrapped around her finger. He’d do anything and everything for her. 

He’d always been that way when it came to her.

What he hadn’t expected was the immediate resurgence of the feelings that he’d harbored for her when they were younger, the same feelings that he’d tried to rationalize the day he’d left for bootcamp. He was never able to truly define them, he couldn’t exactly let himself fully accept and acknowledge that he’d been in love with his childhood best friend.

Not now and not then, well maybe now. Things were different, they were adults now, adults who would most likely be spending a lot more time together for a while, plus she wasn’t on the run and he wasn’t somewhere overseas.

They were currently in the main office, Y/n was busy researching super soldier serum, she’d found herself heavily invested in this over the past few weeks, and in her downtime she’d take advantage of the various softwares and technologies they had. 

It was a good distraction.

She was currently reviewing the various interrogation tapes and video diaries from one of the last few hydra bases that had managed to survive well into the blip. It was remote, somewhere in the middle of Russia’s countryside, and the diaries documented failed experiments, potential recreations of the Red Skull, and even notes on how to adjust and ‘train’ soldiers like The Winter Soldier himself.

She stood in front of one of the large table-top touch screen monitors, gaze focused on different feeds, manuscripts, and translations.

Meanwhile Joaquin was seated on the large sectional, his feet propped up on the small coffee table in front of him while his laptop was in his lap where he was supposed to be doing some work and reviewing some encrypted data that Sam had sent over.

However, his gaze was held on Y/n, more specifically, on her lower half. It was hot outside, so she’d been wearing shorts a lot more often, however these shorts-if one could even call them that, were so short that anytime she bent forward he could see the bottom of her ass, and it had him biting his bottom lip while blushing. 

Not to mention they weren’t exactly fitted shorts, but they weren’t overly loose, and he was positive they were made of something soft like cotton based on the way the fabric sat. Then she’d shift and he’d see the way her thighs and ass would slightly jiggle, and at this rate, he was losing his internal battle.

They hadn’t even spoken about the kiss, maybe it was a one time thing, or maybe it was a pity kiss on her behalf. He tried to blame it on the emotions of the moment, but truly, he’d wanted to kiss her for a long time. 

Then she dropped her notebook, mumbling a quick ‘shit’ before stepping to the side, now fully bending over, back arched while she reached to grab the notebook that had slid between the desk itself and one of Sam’s large filing cabinets. 

The entire time she was mumbling curse words and his jaw was practically on the floor. The way he was looking at her was down right perverted, his entire face was on fire at this rate and he was positive he was sweating.

But he couldn’t tear his gaze away as he traced his eyes over the span of her legs, then towards her ass, and now her legs were somewhat spread and the thin little shorts she had on were riding up, meanwhile the more she moved, the more the fat of her ass moved, and the more she spread her legs, the more prevalent the outline of her cunt between her thighs became.

The fact that she had on thin little red panties wasn’t helping either, his brain was short circuiting.

Then she’d grabbed the notebook, standing back up and doing a small victory cheer, except when she turned around to check on Joaquin, his gaze was on the laptop screen in front of him and he would’ve looked normal if he hadn’t been so red and flushed.

It was somewhat concerning, especially because she’d been so involved in her own research and task at hand, that she hadn’t realized he’d been staring at her. So, she placed her notebook on the table in front of her then waltzed right towards him.

He was praying she didn’t catch him staring, and he was also angling his laptop to hide his very evident ‘issue’ that had occurred because of his staring.

“Torres, are you okay?” she blinked a few times, now looking down at him, moving while very clearly examining him. 

He nodded his head and did his best to act nonchalant, pretending to type something, meanwhile he had a small sticky note open on his laptop and was typing random letters into it. 

But then she got closer, shutting his laptop to gather his full attention, her brows were knit together, her eyes quickly scanning his figure over and over again, double checking that she hadn’t missed anything or that something wasn’t wrong. 

Then to make matters worse, she was even closer now, one of her legs brushing against his while she propped herself up with her other knee on the sofa cushion beside him, now leaning into his space, before placing the back of her hand on his forehead, then his cheek.

“Why the hell are you burning up?! Do I need to call one of the nurses?!” 

He shook his head, gently swatting her hands away while avoiding her gaze“I-I’m uh fine. Trust me I’m just a little hot—it’s fine” she squinted her eyes at him, not buying his horrible lie.

“Tell me the truth, are you feeling okay?” Then she grabbed his chin, slowly tilting his head towards her, both of her brows now raised as she looked at him with an expectant look on her face.

The motion shouldn’t have turned him on as much as it did. It also didn’t help that he was already turned on.

“I’m fine, I promise, just hot ‘s all” 

She nodded.“Okay, you want me to turn the air on?” 

He shook his head at her.

“But you said you’re hot Torres” 

He groaned, nodding his head while grasping her wrist, pulling her hand away from his face slowly and carefully.“I’m fine, it’s probably a side effect from the pain meds or something.” 

She raised a single brow at that, now finally catching him in his lies. “You’re not taking any pain meds, you literally argued with me about it yesterday because you said you’re not gonna risk getting reliant on narcotics, and heat flashes sure as hell are not a side effect of ibuprofen.”

The way that she was concerned about him was also turning him on, it was so nurturing and sweet, but also a little mean, and honestly, this was the worst time for him to be acting like some kind of horny teenager. He’d always known Y/n was attractive, but this was absolutely insane to him.

It could’ve also been the fact that she was so comfortable around him too, prior to this current living arrangement, she’d never worn anything like that in the other house, not for the almost month that they’d lived together. Now she was walking around in little shorts, and he couldn’t even think about the top that she’d worn last night.

She’d been sleeping on the sectional, stating that she wasn’t going to just start sharing a bed with him, and then she’d told him that she’d slept in way worse places than their expensive ‘cloud of a sofa’ when he tried to protest.

But it made sense to go to sleep comfortably, however, he hadn’t expected for her to walk into the room and give him his antibiotics for the shrapnel wounds wearing a little pair of shorts and a fitted, cropped tank top with nothing under. He’d very clearly seen the outline of her breasts, alongside her nipples poking through the thin fabric, and he did his best not to watch the way her chest bounced as she walked. 

Maybe he was acting like this because he hadn’t had sex in a while, but sex wasn’t ever a huge priority for him, sure he slept with people from time to time, but he didn’t go out of his way to seek out people to sleep with.

The last time he’d thought about Y/n like this was when they were nineteen and he’d actually managed to come home to visit for the winter holidays. She’d shown up to his family’s annual christmas party in a fitted off the shoulder red dress with a white faux fur neckline and a similar trim at the bottom of the dress.

Everyone from the neighborhood had been invited, plus his extended family, and their friends. It was always a huge deal for everyone to come together around the holidays, but what he hadn’t expected was for her to show up like a Christmas vixen.

What had gotten to him though, was when she’d bent over to grab something from the oven for his abuela, and he’d been flashed her barely-covered ass, only adorned in what he assumed was a thin black thong.

He’d also made a scene out of it, rushing behind her to pull her dress down some before harshly whispering to her that she needed to ‘put her ass away’, which led to her shooting up, nearly dropping the hot pan in her hands while she whispered that she’d forgotten to put on her shorts because she was rushing out of the house.

After that, he made sure to walk her back to her house so she could change, then they walked back together. But that night, all he could think about was how she looked bent over in her skimpy panties and her little dress, and it was sending his mind into overdrive.

“Hello, earth to Joaquin?!” She snapped her fingers a few times in front of his face, and he’d blinked and finally realized that she’d been talking to him the entire time. But now he was stuck on the sound of his name from her lips.

“What’d you say?” 

She rolled her eyes, arms crossed in front of her chest.“I said earth to Torres, I’ve been talking to you for like five minutes and you’ve been zoned out thinking about whatever the fuck.” 

He slowly nodded, brows now knit together as he stared at her before shaking his head.“No, you didn’t call me Torres.” 

She sighed, hands now on her hips, irritation evident on her features.“Okay, big deal, I called you your name, I’m trying to make sure you’re okay and you’re over here in la la land! I should kick your ass!” 

He shook his head at that, now leaning back into the couch, except usually when he’d relax, he’d move his laptop, but he made no effort to do so, so mindlessly Y/n reached forward to grab it, then he surged forward too, grasping it and holding it in place with a panicked expression.

He’d also lightly shoved her back, making her laugh as she tried to regain her footing, however she hadn’t processed that she’d still been leaning into the sofa, so when he’d pushed her, she’d started falling backwards in a fit of giggles—but instead of catching herself, she simply grasped his left arm and had managed to pull him down with her.

Both of them were now lying on the ground or rather, she was on the ground while he was above her. They were laughing at one another, except Joaquin had barely managed to balance himself on his left arm, and it was a bit wobbly, which had them even closer than before. 

Then they both suddenly got quiet, now realizing how close they’d actually been.

His gaze was glued to her lips, meanwhile her eyes were trailing his features again, then she paused on his lips, and truthfully, neither of them were sure who’d made the first move, but their lips were connected again, except this kiss wasn’t slow, soft, or sweet.

It wasn’t anything like the kiss they’d shared a few days ago.

This kiss was fueled by frustration from both ends, as if they’d been pouring years of emotion back into one another. One of her hands was now in his hair, lightly tugging at the strands while her other hand slowly slid beneath his shirt, fingers gently running along the warm ridges of skin.

They were both fighting for control, it was clear that Joaquin wanted to win, however, the second she pulled his hair with a bit more force, he groaned against her lips, and his arm wobbled.

That had her pulling back, brows knit together as she caught her breath, looking from his kiss swollen lips to his eyes, then towards his left arm. She’d then realized that his right hand had been lightly caressing her jaw, however the position looked uncomfortable for him, and she knew he was straining too hard.

“Get up.” 

He blinked a few times, caught off guard by the sudden demand, then she was shoving him, making sure it wasn’t too hard. He could feel her hesitating when her hand was closer to his right shoulder.

He slowly nodded, listening to her.

“Did I do something wrong?” 

She shook her head, now standing up before giving him an expectant look, so he slowly got off of the ground, and he also made sure to check that his laptop that had hit the floor was alright—it was okay enough.

Then she pushed him back onto the couch.

“Y’know you really shouldn’t be over extending yourself, Torres.” 

He nodded his head, watching as she easily straddled his lap—then both of their eyes widened the second she was properly situated against him. There were a few moments of silence before Y/n started laughing again.

“You’re seriously hard right now? Wait,is that why you were being so weird?!”

He groaned again, this time covering his face with his hands feeling overly embarrassed as if she wasn’t the one on his lap right now. It also didn’t help that with each movement, it was as if she was slowly grinding against him and he wanted nothing more than to moan.

She was still giggling, shaking her head while she gently pried his hands from his face.

“Oh c’mon Torres, it’s only natural, don’t be shy about it,” she smirked, her teasing tone had him nodding his head, then she leaned closer to him, trailing a few open mouthed kisses along his jaw, then moving towards the left side of his neck, lightly nipping at his skin, tongue trailing over the marks she’d left behind.

Meanwhile she slowly moved her hips against him, letting out a few gasps, enjoying the friction against her core. His hands gripped her thighs, fingers digging into the soft skin while he leaned his head back and a bit to the side, giving her more room. 

Her hands were shifting his shirt up, nails lightly tracing along his abdomen, the feeling making his mind fuzzy.

“Take it off, Torres.” 

He blinked a few times, nodding his head at her words as he scrambled to pull his shirt off, tossing it to the side somewhere, then her lips were back on him, but each time he tried to lean forward-she’d push him back against the cushions. 

Then her lips were back on him, except now she was slowly moving lower and lower, leaving a trail of minor bite marks and bruises along his skin before she was situated between his legs, now on her knees looking up at him. He hadn’t even realized that she’d been on the ground, his eyes had been shut while he leaned back, enjoying the feeling of her lips and teeth against his skin.

He’d been dreaming about this moment for years.

Seeing her looking up at him from between his legs had his mind short circuiting, then she started undoing his belt while still holding eye contact with him.

Truthfully, it was a feat in and of itself, she’d been nervous, but she was doing her best to play it off. Once she managed to undo his belt, she raised a single brow at him, as if asking for his permission, which had him practically whimpering as he nodded his head.

His eyes were slightly hooded, lips parted while he tried to steady his breathing, and he’d kept running his left hand through his hair. 

By the time that she’d undid his jeans and slid her hand into his pants, he was already biting down on his lip, chest rapidly rising and falling at the feeling of her hand against him, the only thing stopping her from actually touching him had been the thin layer of fabric separating the both of them.

She’d been palming him over his briefs, a smirk on her face at his quiet moans.

Then she tugged on his jeans a bit more and pulled his cock out, her eyes widening at the size of it, he was bigger than she’d expected, and he was certainly thicker than she’d thought. But it almost made sense, Joaquin had never really been scrawny, he’d always been broad, but now he’d filled out a lot more, the years in the Air Force had been good to his physique.

“Shit you don’t have to—” 

She cut him off, shushing him as she scooted a bit closer, now leaning over him as she slowly spit onto the tip of his cock before spreading it around with her thumb. “Let me take care of you Joaquin.” 

He nodded his head, her voice so soft and sweet, his heart was practically hammering out of his chest. 

“O-okay—” then he moaned, it wasn’t a quiet moan either, it was loud and throaty. She’d wrapped her lips around the tip of his cock, tongue swirling around the thick mushroom tip, then she pulled back, tracing her tongue along the weeping slit, the pleasure made him shudder.

She wrapped her right hand around his thick shaft, slowly raising it up and down, spitting on his cock again, using it as a lubricant to keep her motions fluid. 

“You’re always saving everyone, always being the hero, taking care of everything else. Can I take care of you this time?” 

He nodded his head, his entire body was on fire, it was as if he’d been possessed, maybe she was possessing him, maybe she was actually a witch and this is how’d she’d kill him.

Or maybe, just maybe, the love that he’d thought he’d been over, the love that he’d felt for her was making things one hundred times more intense.

“I wanna hear you say it, baby.” 

He whimpered, brows knit together as he looked down at her.“Yes-please-do it-do anything you want to me-fuck ‘m all yours, promise” 

That made her heart flutter.

Then she was taking him into her mouth again, inch by inch, and when she’d finally gagged on him, he let out another guttural moan, struggling to keep his hands still, then she’d looked back up at him and he felt like he was about to pass out.

She took her time with him, slowly bobbing her head along his cock, letting her spit trail along his thick shaft, some of it even dribbling down her chin while she used her right hand on what she couldn’t fit in her mouth. 

He finally placed his hand in her hair, it was a bit frizzy and wavy from being in braids and he’d gathered what he could, holding it in a ponytail, keeping it out of her face while she focused on sucking his cock. She’d even hollowed her cheeks, moving herself a bit faster, taking a little more of him down her throat.

This was downright sinful.

His ears were practically ringing as he fought the urge to buck his hips into her mouth, but the faster she moved her head, the closer he was to cumming.

Then she pulled back, a string of spit connecting her lips to the tip of his cock, he blinked a few times, heavy breaths leaving his lips when he watched her smirk, then she was leaning down, her tongue tracing the veins on the underside of his cock for a few seconds before she’d moved lower-that has his eyes widening.

She didn’t hesitate to trail her tongue along his balls, then she’d taken them in her mouth and he’d pulled her hair so hard it stung, but she’d just moaned, moving back up to his dick again, tongue back along the shaft before she wrapped her lips around the tip, tongue swirling around it again.

Meanwhile both of her hands were pumping and slightly twisting along his shaft, he’d bucked his hips a few times but she’d ignored it, watching as he writhed above her.

“Fuck-baby I’m gonna cum-fuck-you gotta stop before I cum-” he was borderline whining, voice a bit higher as he tried to catch his breath and tried to hold back, then she moved again.

“I want you to cum, so cum Joaquin” she’d practically demanded it, and that sent him over the edge, as her hands moved, he was cumming, thick spurts of cum shooting from his cock, trailing along her fingers, then she’d pulled the head back into her mouth, swallowing the rest of it before moving back, licking along her fingers before using her thumb to slowly drag the mixture of spit and cum along her chin into her mouth, dragging it against her bottom lip.

He thought she was done, he was already getting soft, but clearly she was a fan of torturing him.

She’d brought the sensitive tip of his cock back into her mouth, sucking on it as she stared at him, moaning around it for a few seconds, as if she was milking him dry.

The overstimulation made his eyes water as he shook his head at her.

“Baby, fuck-give me a minute-please-oh-” he whimpered when she took more of him into her mouth, lightly running her teeth along the sides of his cock before pulling away, letting him go with a ‘pop’. Then she kissed his tip, and out of everything she’d just done to him, that was downright filthy.

“You gonna let me keep goin’ Quino?” his jaw dropped at the nickname, watching as she stood up, easily slipping her shorts off, then straddled his lap again, leaving just enough room between them for her to spit on his cock and go back to fisting it. 

To say he was overly sensitive was an understatement, however that hadn’t stopped him from getting hard, not when she was on his lap making him pant like a dog. 

“Don’t call me that right now.” 

She laughed at his strained voice, leaning a little closer to him, resting her forehead against his as she kept her motions up.“Why not, Quino?” 

He moaned, shaking his head.“F-fuck, you know why.” 

She shrugged at that, moving back a little bit, she looked at him as if she was on death row and he was her last meal. “No I don’t Quino, you gonna tell me why I can’t call you that?, I’ve always called you that.” Her tone was mocking and degrading, he shook his head again, now bucking his hips into her hand, watching her bite her bottom lip, he was hard again, his head was spinning, his heart was racing, and he was five second away from telling her he’d been in love with her his entire life.

He moaned, using his left hand to grab her neck, pulling her into a kiss, practically slamming his lips into hers. 

She was surprised by the motion, especially considering she could still taste him on her tongue. 

Joaquin didn’t care about that, he was practically drowning in her. The kiss was rough, it was all teeth and tongue, the both of them swallowing one another’s moans as she ground herself against one of his thighs while slowly and lazily playing with his cock.

He pulled away first “I need to be inside of you-” and as he tried to push her off, attempting to switch positions, she used her enhanced strength to push him back into his spot while shaking her head.

“You're still hurt, or did cumming make you forget that?” 

He rolled his eyes, shaking his head.“It’s nothing I can’t handle, Sunshine” 

She shushed him again, giving him a pointed look.“No, your shoulders still hurt, you have a long recovery, no way in hell you’re about to make things worse because you want to have sex.” 

He groaned, nose scrunched with his eyebrows furrowed.“So we’re not having sex anymore?” he sounded unsure of himself, and that made her laugh again, shaking her head, their previously heated exchange now filled with a combination of their laughter. She smiled at him, rolling her eyes playfully.

“Do you trust me, Quino?” 

He groaned at the nickname, nodding his head, trying to ignore the butterflies he was feeling in his abdomen. He felt like he did the last night they’d spent together after high school, he was undoubtedly in love with her, and that love was all consuming. 

“That’s not my name.” 

She shushed him, moving her body forward now, easily sliding her panties to the side before slowly gliding his cock against her sopping cunt, practically coating him in her essence, teasing him.

“Yes it is, or would you prefer Joaquin?” She leaned closer to him, lips brushing against the shell of his ear “You want me to call you Joaquin when you’re inside of me? Tell you how good you feel against my tight little cunt, huh Joaquin?” 

He moaned again, eyes squeezed shut at the feeling of her lining his tip up with her entrance, then she was sliding down,taking all of him.

She moaned at the stretch, resting her head against his shoulder as she took him inch by inch until she was stuffed to the hilt, clenching around his thick cock,whimpering at the burning stretch.

“‘S so fuckin big-feels so fuckin good” 

He nodded at that, his hands now holding onto her waist, fingers digging into her skin hard enough to bruise trying to keep his composure. Then she’d fluttered around him over and over again while slowly grinding herself against him-enjoying the feeling of being so full.

“Should’ve done this a long time ago-shouldn’t have let you go so easy.” Her words were quiet as she finally started moving, bringing her body upwards, then slowly back down, setting a slow pace-rambling against the crook of his neck. 

“Missed you so much, Quino” 

He moaned, nodding his head as she moved against him, hands now moving, pulling her even closer to him.“I-oh shit-missed you too-S-sunshine.” He was stuttering at this point, head thrown back as she bounced on his cock, she was gradually building her pace, doing her best to keep things gentle, to make sure he’d be okay.

She kissed along his throat again, except this time, she moved, shifting towards his right side, peppering soft open mouthed kisses along his scarred skin, the doctors had said the burns were pretty superficial around his neck and shoulders, he’d scar, but it wasn’t as major as his other injuries.

If this wasn’t genuine love, he had no idea what love was supposed to feel like.

She was moving faster now, her moans a little louder against his skin, it was as if the only sounds in the room were their shared breathy moans, the sloshing sound of her cunt, and the sound of their skin. 

Then she reached between her thighs, fingers easily finding her clit as she kissed him again, it was difficult to focus on kissing him, their lips were moving, but it was sloppy, they’d been moaning against one another while she bounced a bit faster.

He used his left hand to move hers out of the way, two fingers now focused on rubbing fast half-circles against her swollen bud-earning several high pitched whimpers as she kept her movements up, cunt clenching around his cock as she lost her rhythm.

“I’m gonna cum-fuck Quino I’m gonna cum.” She was whimpering, her forehead resting against one of his shoulders again as she grasped onto his forearms.

“Just like that, you’re doing so good-so good for me baby.”

She nodded her head, feeling herself getting closer and closer to the edge.

Meanwhile he was doing everything in his power not to cum again, his mind was hazy and his only real goal was to make her cum first, he knew she was close, so he started bucking his hips up into her-knowing she wouldn’t argue with him right now-not when she was like this.

That sent her over the edge, moaning out a string of expletives and his name, alongside a few jumbled words, begging him to cum again.

“W-where?” 

She whimpered again, hips still moving slowly, “Inside-fuck need it inside, Quino.”

That pushed him over, and in his own orgasmic haze he hadn’t realized what he’d been moaning.

“Fuck-fuck-so perfect-shit I love you-oh god love you so much” 

The both of them sat in a comfortable silence as they came down from their highs, then she slowly started sliding off of him, wincing at the soreness of her cunt, followed by the feeling of his cum leaking out of her.

She slowly stood up, and instead of saying anything, she simply gave him an expectant look, that look resulted in the both of them being in the shower together, she was washing his hair for him, the intimacy of it all made her heart flutter even if he was complaining that she was doing it wrong.

“How the hell do you wash hair wrong, Quino? I have more hair than you, I think I know what I’m doing” her response was a bit snappy, however the few giggles that left her lips after reassured him that she wasn’t mad at him, besides he wasn’t even supposed to be lifting his shoulders too much, she was doing him a favor.

“Okay, there, now rinse it pretty boy.”He nodded at that, looking back over his shoulder, smiling at her.

When he was done rinsing his hair, he’d volunteered to wash her back, it made both of them laugh, however as she stood in front of him, he took the time to glide his fingers along the deep indented scars in her skin, brows furrowed as he realized this was what she had left to show fro everything she’d been put through for years.

“I’m sorry this happened to you.” 

She shook her head at that. “Don’t be, you should see the other guys,” she laughed softly, rolling her shoulders back when his touch tickled her, a smile on her face.

She turned to face him now, and they held eye contact for a few moments, as if they’d been taking one another in for the first time in a long time.“Is what you said true?” 

He blinked a few times, caught off guard by the question—trying to rack his brain to figure out what she was referring to. 

Then she raised a single brow “You don’t remember do you? Y’know it’s very in character for you to confess your love to me while literally cumming inside of me, then forgetting that you said something so major.”

His eyes widened, practically popping out of his skull.“Well- I uh, y’know we’ve known each other for a long time, and uh-well I guess old feelings uh y’know resurfaced when we were, well doing that-” 

She cut him off with a smile “Doing that huh? We’re literally butt ass naked in a shower together and you can’t say having sex? Really Quino?” 

He scoffed.“Stop making fun of me when I’m trying to explain myself to you!” 

She laughed at him, a little louder than she meant to, then she tried to hold it in, biting her bottom lip, the same way she always had when they were younger.“Okay-sheesh-sorry lover boy-go on and tell me how much you love me.” She was teasing him now, and he couldn’t help but shake his head at that, droplets of water splashing her from the motion.

Then he got closer, wrapping his arms around her waist as he looked at her, their faces only a few inches apart at this rate, the water bouncing against their skin as he pulled them closer to the shower head.“You got me okay, I’ve been in love with you since we were kids, you totally broke my heart when you were all cold to me for a month even if we hadn’t seen each other in years, you’ve always been the one for me, Sunshine, even if you are a reformed war criminal.” 

Her jaw dropped at his jokes, shoving him.“You asshole!” she couldn’t hold in her fit of giggles. “Is now a bad time to say that I wanted to kiss you on prom night?” he shook his head.

“No, because I wanted to kiss you too—but we can make up for lost time. Besides Sam said I need a long term babysitter. Okay, now it’s your turn to say you love me, too.” 

She laughed again, smiling at him as she held eye contact, then she kissed him, it was practically a peck.“I guess I love you too, you loser. Although it did take you crash landing into the ocean for me to realize that. Now can we please get out of the shower before I prune up like a raisin?” 

He raised a brow before reaching back to turn off the showerhead. “You do know that prunes and raisins are two different dried fruits right?”

-

Thanks for reading secksies <3

[hotvintagepoll]

LAST POLL OF ROUND 4

Danny Kaye (The Court Jester, The Inspector General)—Danny Kaye, idol of my childhood, maker of the weirdest faces! This man SETS HIMSELF ON FIRE and then puts himself out in a bucket in a movie based on a Gogol short story. In the same movie (Inspector General), he flirts by playing a carrot as a musical instrument. In Wonder Man, he's brilliant but struggles with things like riding buses. I have been envious of his fake Italian/French/German/Spanish monologues in The Court Jester for the past three decades. As Walter Mitty, he is SUPREMELY SILLY yet also somehow manages to be a comic foil for none other than Boris Karloff. All this is to say nothing of The William Tell Song (TV, thus not linked, but great.) I adore him.

Donald O'Connor (Singin' in the Rain, Francis, Call Me Madam)— LOOK AT HIM. Those giant blue peepers. Those tappy tappy little feet that don't quit. The ears that stick out like little wings, ready to lift him up to goofy heaven. The way his face contorts into the strangest yet most endearing expressions. His ability to sing and dance alongside the hunk that is Gene Kelly and yet pull all attention away with his big-eyed buffoonery. The way his energy is unmatched in songs like "Make 'em laugh" - bouncing off the walls and tumbling through the air straight into my cold cold heart. Who else but a true scrungly lil guy would sit upon the witness stand and defend a talking mule with all the love and affection in the world - staring out into the court room with his bright wide eyes and eternally mouse-like expression, openly admitting that the mule is his best friend?!??! I see him and I want to pull him from the screen into my hand and just squiiiiiiiiiiiiish with all my might. I want to pinch his cheeks and have him bat those eyes at me. He just makes me go "eeehehehehehe" every time I see him and his silly little self. He is pure chaotic, ridiculous, scrungly perfection!

This is round 4 of the contest. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. If you’re confused on what a scrungle is, or any of the rules of the contest, click here.

[additional submitted propaganda + scrungly videos under the cut]

Danny Kaye:

He's so stupid. I love him.

Donald O'Connor:

My silliest little guy. My funnyman. My horsie. I have watched many a bad movie for this man. The scrungliest fact I know about him is that he was supposed to star as Danny Kaye's role in the iconic White Christmas (1954), as he had known Bing Crosby since he was a child, but couldn't because he caught a mule disease while working on those Francis the Talking Mule films Universal endlessly made him do. I wouldn't exactly recommend those movies, but Don's character getting psychologically tormented by a sardonic mule does make for quite a good movie night, if you know what you're getting into. Are You With It? is another one I don't exactly recommend, but it does open with Donald as a math genius actuary who is about to kill himself over a displaced decimal point before getting taken in by a traveling carny instead. His more well-known and beloved roles have plenty of scrungliness too, in my opinion. This man slapsticked so hard he wound up bedridden for his physical exertion! Rather than submitting Make 'Em Laugh, which the electorate has likely already seen (I hope), I'm submitting an underrated dance number of his, where he explains maths through tap dance. That movie is Not good, but god do I love him in that role.

I think it's arguably very scrungly to seemingly be a real life cartoon character made out of rubber, as proven by how slapsticky the list of scrunglies is so far. In which case, Donald O'Connor? He scrungles supremely. He even played Buster Keaton in a movie (that apparently can't be recommended, but still).

[therealmrrobinson]

THE DAY THE EARTH BLEW UP: A LOONEY TUNES MOVIE Movie Review

Let’s be honest, when it comes to movies, the Looney Tunes brand has not had a very good run this decade. In 2021 there was Space Jam: A New Legacy, which turned out to be nothing but a shameless commercial for all things Warner Bros., and then there was the infamous tale of the shelved Coyote vs. Acme movie that may never see the light of day. So it’s with all of these tragedies that it’s a miracle that this movie, The Day The Earth Blew Up, even got released. (Granted through Ketchup Entertainment and not WB. themselves.) Not only that, but it’s also incredible that the end result is undeniably the best Looney Tunes ever made.

THE GOOD

What separates this movie from something like the Space Jam sequel, is that it is made by people who clearly love Looney Tunes. Despite the fact that we only have three characters, this movie stays true to who they are. Daffy Duck is more reflective of how his was when he was first introduced and before he started being paired up with Bugs Bunny. He’s a complete lunatic, he’s overly confident, and has a tendency to cause more trouble than what they have to deal with in the moment! Meanwhile, Porky Pig is the more sensible of the two, complete with his famous stutter. Eric Bauza does a fantastic job voicing both characters and much like Mel Blanc long before, it’s incredible how many of the Looney Tunes characters he’s able to voice to perfection. Petunia Pig is also a fun character. She manages to be the most sensible of the group, while also being crazy and…dare I say looney in her own way!

The animation is spectacular. It’s great to not only see classic 2D animation, but also 2D animation that was made for a big screen experience. The last two animated movies that I can think of that look like they were hand drawn are The Lord of the Rings: The War of the Rohirrim or Teen Titans Go! To the Movies. In both instances, you watch those movies and question the reason to release them in theaters. The animation in The Day The Earth Blew Up is not only smooth and well detailed, but it also amplifies the insanity and comedy. One of my favorite gags is with Farmer Jim, the adopted father of both Daffy and Porky. While our two main characters are fully animated, Farmer Jim is mostly a static drawing played for full comic effect.

The movie is not just hilarious in how it captures the spirit of Looney Tunes, but also how it works as a parody of the alien invasion movies of the 1950s. From mind control, alien goo, 50s style flying saucers, and the title of the film itself, this movie is a perfect homage to those old school science fiction movies. However it’s mixed with that very chaotic tone that you expect from Looney Tunes and features enough twists that make the movie feel fresh and funny! The big masterplan of the alien invader is ridiculous but makes sense within the nature of the film!

OVERALL

This is about as good as a Looney Tunes movie can get and the flaws it has, aren't worth mentioning! I never got the appeal of Space Jam, and this is coming from a kid of the 90s. That movie should’ve been my childhood, but it just doesn’t work for me. As for Looney Tunes: Back in Action, I have a soft spot for that movie, but even then I can’t deny that The Day The Earth Blew Up blows that one out of the water. It’s got spectacular animation, it’s fateful to the source material, the characters are fun, and it’s jam-packed with jokes that made me laugh hard! Not to mention it has a lot of heart when it comes to Daffy and Porky’s friendship. It’s a reminder of what made Looney Tunes work in the first place and why they will endure until the end of time despite David Zaslav’s hatred for them!

RATING

GET OFF YOUR ASS AND GO SEE IT NOW!!!

[8loveletters]

"is this everything you dreamed of?"

pairing: kim mingyu × fem reader

genre: smut, mutual pining (or: mutual lowkey unhealthy obsession lol), little fluff at the end

word count: ~4.7k

content warnings: mingyu is a few (like 3) years older than reader, reader is smaller than mingyu and has somewhat longer hair, voyuerism, mutual (kinda) masturbation, dom!mingyu, oral (both receiving), tit sucking/nipple biting, spanking (literally once), unprotected sex, doggystyle, big dick gyu.., filming a sextape (not to be seen by anyone else), creampie, multiple orgasms, sir kink, praise kink, manhandling, lots of pet names given by mingyu (baby/pretty girl, princess, sweetheart, etc. (but also slut/whore..)), mingyu is a lil rough but also a softie,, lmk if i should add anything else!

summary: you've been hopelessly in love with your best friend's older brother for the past decade. you've fantasized countless times about a future in which you could be together. but you've accepted the fact that it will probably remain just that -- a fantasy. that is until your best friend and roommate's weekend trip out of town leads to a rare opportunity. will tonight finally be the night that all your dreams come true?

this weekend would be the first time you were going to be completely alone in a really long time. you and your roommate have been best friends since middle school. so, it only made sense that you would move in together and become roommates when you went to the same college together.

now, it's been a couple years since you graduated but you're still living together. you both enjoyed it though. being with each other practically 24/7 never put a strain on your relationship the way you had heard from others that it might. but you knew the time would come soon that you would have to part ways as you both established yourselves in your careers and became more independent. also, you knew it was only a matter of time that one or both of you would find a romantic partner you were serious enough about to move in with. and this weekend seemed like the first step towards that for your roommate.

she and her boyfriend were taking a weekend trip together for the first time. before that, however, she was going to take him to meet her parents and older brother. it was a way of seeking their approval before taking this next step in their relationship. but frankly it seemed like just a formality, as she was so head over heels for him it probably wouldn't matter whether they approved or not.

you were bored in bed scrolling through your feed while some dumb reality show played on your tv as background noise. you saw the picture your best friend posted earlier that night of her, her boyfriend, and her family taken at the restaurant they had met at to eat dinner. you smiled when you saw how happy she looked. her boyfriend was good to and for her and you knew how excited she was to introduce him to them. you were relieved it seemed to have gone well by the looks on everyone's faces.

however, your eyes eventually locked onto the one face you were trying your best to avoid: her older brother mingyu's.

mingyu was a few years older than you and your best friend. you met him the first time you ever spent the night at her house at the beginning of the first year of middle school. you really hadn't developed any interest in boys yet, and your new friend's awkward older brother was no exception to this, so you really paid him no attention. that, of course, changed over time the more you grew up and became more interested in boys and the more he grew up and became more handsome.

your crush on him really started to grow your freshman year of high school. he was a senior at your same school and seeing him everyday in the hallways in addition to the multiple days a week when you hung out at your best friend's house instead of your own just intensified your feelings more.

you never let onto it though, not wanting to make your best friend uncomfortable. so many girls in your grade already gushed about him around her and you could tell how awkward it was for her. it did make you a bit jealous though, other girls talking about how attractive he was. even though he'd never date them, focusing more on playing sports and hanging out with his friends than fooling around with any girls despite his playboy looks, you couldn't help but feel jealous when they stated the obvious -- that he was hot as hell.

after that year, though, he went off to college and you saw much less of him during those years. you would think that would make your lame high school crush fizzle out, but well, absence makes the heart grow fonder as they say. you cherished anything you could get. the times you would be at the same family functions as your families had also become so close over the years it was like one big extended family. or the time he helped you -- sweaty and shirtless -- move furniture into the new apartment you and your roommate had rented in the dead of summer. or the times he'd be on a roll posting the most boyfriend-coded pictures on his social media for days on end before disappearing from them again for weeks.

and now, after all these years, you still can't bring yourself to commit to a relationship because you just can't stop thinking about him. and you had met some really good people over the years who would be really good partners. but you just weren't ready yet. you just weren't ready to give up on the delusion that you and mingyu could still somehow end up together.

you couldn't stop yourself from clicking the tag on the picture and scrolling through mingyu's profile for the millionth time. you also couldn't stop your mind from wandering straight into the gutter while your free hand wandered underneath the waistband of your sweatpants.

you know it's wrong. you've known it was wrong for about 10 years now. but you just can't help it. you want mingyu, your best friend's brother, desperately. in the worst way possible. you turn off the tv and toss your phone on the bed, letting yourself yet again be immersed in the fantasy of having mingyu deep inside you. you tell yourself if this dream could become a reality just one time, you'd be satisfied and able to move on. but for now, you try in vain to pleasure yourself with just your fingers even half as much as you're convinced his cock would be able to.

so lost in your delusions, you don't even hear the front door of your apartment open and shut.

at dinner, mingyu's sister had asked him to stop by the apartment on his way home. she had forgotten to water her plant and she figured you'd probably be out with your other friends since it was the weekend. maybe you might have heard him struggle twice before finally entering the passcode correctly, but your bedroom was farthest from the front door and you had left your bedroom door open only a crack out of habit. plus, not much could be heard over your pathetic moans and whimpers thinking about the man who was now in your apartment.

mingyu was never the most observant person, so he didn't notice anything as he went to water the plant. even when he did think he heard something, he just chalked it up to maybe the walls being thin and it being a neighbor with their tv up too loud. so, he set the watering can down and started to leave the apartment. that is until he heard something akin to a siren's call: your voice. after all these years, it was unmistakable to him.

his mind tried to convince him he didn't hear what he thought he did. while his body, more specifically his cock growing harder by the second, led him toward your bedroom door. toward a sound he had only dreamt of: you moaning in pure ecstasy. as he reaches your door, his brain tries one last futile attempt to persuade him that you must have left your tv on and that's what he's hearing. as a good guy looking out for your electricity bill, he'll just pop in real quick and turn it off...

mingyu slowly pushes the door open and sees exactly what he was both hoping and dreading at the same time.

you are sprawled out on your bed in just a tiny tank top and panties, your sweatpants discarded at some point to the middle of your floor. mingyu cannot believe how beautiful you look biting your bottom lip with furrowed brows, hair all disheveled. his hand has a mind of its own as it quietly unbuckles his belt and releases his throbbing hard length from his slacks.

mingyu knows it's wrong. he's known it was wrong for about 10 years now. you were his little sister's best friend. he should not ever have been attracted to you, nor should he still be. but he was and he is.

countless nights over the years he dreamed about you two being together. but he could never cross that line and initiate anything. especially since he could never quite gauge how you really felt about him. he thought there was something to the looks you'd give him, and the way you'd blush when you realized he'd noticed. but then you'd usually act so indifferent or at the most cordial when you were around him. so he was always wondering if those lustful glances were all in his head. but it was just enough to always keep him wondering about what it would be like to be with you. so much, that it was hard for him to be in any kind of serious relationship. no one could compare to you, even if it was just an idealized version of you.

"mingyu!"

his blood runs cold and he stops in place, hand mid-pump down his thick cock. he stays frozen in place like a thief who has just been caught red-handed. when his eyes look up from your hand in your panties that he was focusing so intently on to your eyes, he realizes they are still shut. you haven't seen him. then, why would you have screamed his name..?

"mingyu, please. i want-- need you so bad." you are desperately chasing a high that won't come because your fingers just aren't enough. mingyu realizes immediately what's going on.

you're fantasizing about him while you touch yourself so desperately. this finally confirms that all these years he really wasn't crazy. you wanted him just as badly as he wanted you.

his body takes over once again giving his mind no time to even try to be rational. within seconds mingyu is hovering over you on your bed.

your eyes shoot open and you scream, heart nearly stopping. when you come to your senses and realize that the man over top of you is, literally, the man of your dreams and not some random intruder you relax slightly. but that doesn't last long before your entire body is burning with embarrassment as you try your hardest to push him away from you and cover yourself.

"mingyu!" no matter how you say his name it drives him crazy all the same. "w-what the hell are you doing here?!"

"my sister asked me to stop by and water her plant and-- well none of that matters now. what i want to know is what you were just doing?"

mingyu is still towering over you, your attempts to move his large frame amusing at best. the look on his face is something you've never seen before, like that of a ravenous wolf staring down its meal.

"i, uhh, i was just--" you shift under his gaze and turn your head slightly. if you can't get away from him you at least want to hide how hard he's making you blush right now.

"cat got your tongue, baby girl?" his smirk is so evil, his voice so cocky. "how about i give you the rundown? you were playing with that pretty little pussy of yours imagining it was me deep inside you and not your fingers. sound about right?"

you can't bring yourself to look at him directly, but your body is fighting hard to let him know he's exactly right. with much resistance, you're able to give him a slight nod. but it's not good enough.

mingyu grabs you somehow both roughly and gently by the chin and forces you to look him in his beautiful brown eyes that are saturated with lust. "use your words, darling. is that what you were doing?"

"y-yes.." it's soft but seems to satisfy him and he lets go of your jaw.

"well this is no good. all these years i never dared try anything because it didn't seem you felt the same way. but here you were so desperate for me all along." mingyu repositions himself so he can spread your legs apart, eyes locking onto the soaked fabric of your panties. your face is still burning but your body gives up on trying to resist him anymore and you keep your legs spread wide while he stares for what feels like ages. "oh y/n... if you really wanted me this badly, all you had to do was ask."

"i--" your voice catches in your throat, but you gather all your strength and try again, way too needy to care about how pathetic you're about to sound. "i don't just want you mingyu.. i need you.. been dreaming about you in my guts for years now.."

mingyu chuckles and cups your cheek with his large hand, looking down at you like you're the most adorable thing he's ever seen. "well then, tonight i'll make all those dreams a reality for you."

within the time it takes you to blink, mingyu crashes his lips into yours, all but devouring your lips with his own. his kisses are passionate and sloppy, giving away just how much he's been waiting for this moment as well. he trails more kisses down your neck as you unbutton the nice white dress shirt he was wearing and throw it on the floor near your sweatpants. he clumsily takes off his slacks and underwear, leaving himself fully exposed while you were still (barely) covered by your small tank top and panties.

you take in his form, his chiseled body and long, thick cock making you clench around nothing and bite your lower lip. he smirks at your reaction for a moment before quickly moving down to the end of the bed, positioning his face between your thighs right in front of your dripping core.

without warning he drags his tongue along the length of your cunt over the ruined fabric. your moan makes him smile wide, fangs on full display. "mm, baby, already so wet just for me." he places a few kisses on your thigh, surprisingly soft compared to the rough ones on your mouth moments before. the teasing becomes too much for you though, and you buck your hips up on instinct trying to get more contact on the place you need it most.

you whine as mingyu pulls his head away and forces your hips down onto the mattress. "not so fast, sweetheart. i need to hear you say exactly what you want from me. be a good girl and ask nicely, and i'll give it all to you."

"your tongue.. need your tongue on my pussy. please, mingyu."

mingyu gives you a satisfied nod and wastes no time ripping your thin panties clean off you and tossing them aside. he dives straight into your folds, lapping at your cunt like a dog who hasn't drank anything in days. the sensation quickly becomes overwhelming and when he moves to focus his attention on your clit, you're brought closer and closer to the edge. you manage to get a few words out at a time between moans and heavy breaths. "mingyu, i'm so close.. c-can i please come?" you catch on quickly, knowing he probably wouldn't let you unless you asked nicely.

and it seemed to work. mingyu nods and lets out a hum of approval and that's all you need to allow your orgasm to overtake you. your hands grabbed at his thick, dark hair as you pulled him closer into your core, hips rocking back and forth as you rode out your high.

mingyu licked up all your juices as you came down and then looked up at you, chin wet and eyes looking even hungrier than before. he crawled back on top of you, kissing you somehow even more wildly than he had before. once he felt you had had enough time to recover from your first climax, he effortlessly picked you up and swapped your positions in one swift motion. he was now the one laying on his back while you were over top of him. you knew he must be strong with the way he was built, but you were a little speechless at the maneuver he just pulled off like it was nothing. once you snap out of it, you take advantage of your position being literally on top and try to take a bit of the control in this situation.

"now it's my turn to make you feel good. would you like that, hm? like to see me choking on that big dick?" you grind your core down onto his rock-hard member as you ask, eliciting a quiet groan from mingyu's throat. when he doesn't answer right away, you decide to rephrase the question in a way that makes him feel he still has all the control. "can i please suck your cock, mingyu?"

he nods and you get right to work. you position yourself between his legs and are a bit taken aback when you see just how big and thick he is up close and in detail. you lick your lips at the sight and get started. you bob your head up and down a few times, stopping only part of the way down as you don't think you'd be able to take all of him. this isn't good enough for mingyu however and he suddenly wraps your hair tight around his hand and pushes your mouth down his full length. the pain of his tip pushing at the back of your throat brings tears to your eyes, but it feels so good at the same time.

after bringing your head back up and letting you catch your breath for a moment, mingyu starts relentlessly fucking your mouth. the sounds that fill the room are so filthy and it's like music to his ears. "look at you. so pretty while i fuck your mouth. such a beautiful little slut for me." you moan at his praises, tears streaming down your cheeks. the vibration of your voice around him is enough to finally push him towards his climax and his thrusts become sloppier but more forceful. "fuck, baby, feel so good choking on my cock. you ready to swallow my cum like a good little whore?" you do your best to nod your head in agreement and seconds later you feel him unload down your throat. when he's finished, he pulls out and you swallow hard. you open your mouth to show him you took it all and he smiles, a little out of breath. "good girl."

the way he praises you makes your heart skip a beat. all you've wanted for so many years was to be with him like this. and even if this is the only chance you ever get, you're glad you could make him feel good and be his good girl for the night.

you think mingyu might need a minute to recover, but you're amazed when he's ready to go again almost immediately. he quickly sits up and begins messily making out with you again. as he does, he finally pulls off your tank top which somehow has stayed on this whole time. once your tits are free he takes a moment to look at them in awe. then, he's kissing and sucking on them just as gently as he had your thighs earlier. you appreciate the way he can be so rough and so gentle with you, making you feel better than anyone you'd ever slept with before.

the stimulation on your nipples heightens your arousal, but you need more. "mingyu.."

"what is it, princess?"

"please-- can you please fuck me? need you inside me now." your last word comes out more like a moan as mingyu lightly bites your sensitive nipple before pulling away to look you straight in the eye.

he can see the way your eyes beg for him and he just can't keep you waiting any longer. he throws you onto the bed on your stomach, the way he can just toss you around so effortlessly like a doll turning you on even more. he positions you with your head down on your pillow, ass up in the air as he gets on his knees behind you. then, he notices something that catches his eye: your phone that you had tossed onto the bed next to you earlier. it gives him a naughty idea and he grabs it quickly and before you can react, he's got the camera app open and recording a video.

"mingyu, what are you doing?!" suddenly you feel shy all over again.

"just filming a little something so you know this wasn't a dream." as he says this, he runs his tip through your folds, camera angled perfectly to capture everything. your shyness subsided and all you can think about is him finally rearranging your guts.

"ah, don't tease," you whine. "please put it inside. please, gyu." the nickname and the begging tone of your voice somehow make him harder, if that was even possible. he intends to oblige, but first, he hands you your phone.

"i'll give you all that you're begging for and more. but you gotta keep the camera on that pretty face of yours while i fuck you stupid. got it, baby?"

you nod and feel mingyu's hand come down and smack your ass, clearly not content with your lack of a verbal response. "not good enough, dear. need to hear you say it. do you understand?"

"yes, sir."

he groans, showing he clearly likes when you address him this way. as soon as you get the camera angled perfectly on your face, mingyu slowly starts pushing into your entrance.

"oh, fuck." you both say it simultaneously. his cock is so thick inside you and your pussy is so tight around him. you're not sure all of him will even fit, but he keeps slowly pushing in further and further until he bottoms out with a deep groan.

"that feel good, princess?" he stays still inside you, giving you time to adjust to his massive size.

"mm, yes, feels so good. filling me all the way up so fucking perfectly." you make direct eye contact with the camera as you speak, having enough foresight to know how hot it will be when either of you watches it back later.

mingyu takes this as his cue to finally start moving in you. he pulls back slowly, almost pulling all the way out before harshly thrusting back into you. you basically scream as he hits your sweet spot, nearly dropping the phone before quickly repositioning it. he then starts thrusting in and out of you at a steady and relentless pace.

the room, and probably your entire apartment, is filled with your moans and the sounds of skin slapping against skin, the camera capturing it all along with the tears that begin falling down your cheeks once again.

"fuck, baby, you're so tight. feel so fucking good clenching around me. better than i ever imagined. is this cock everything you dreamed of?"

"fuck, mingyu. so much better. so much bigger. fuck, just like that. please keep using my pussy just like that. it's all yours. i'm all yours, mingyu." you just keep babbling on, coming closer and closer to exploding again. the way you keep clenching around him is bringing mingyu back to the edge again as well.

"damn, baby, i'm so close. tell me where you want my cum and i'll let you come as well."

"inside. please, sir. i want you to come deep inside me. fill me up, please, gyu." you meant it when you said you were all his. and you wanted all of him, every last drop, inside of you.

after a few more strokes you both started coming undone. you tried your best to keep the camera focused on your face, but the video was probably going to come out just as shaky as your whole body was right now. mingyu painted your walls with his thick, hot white ropes of cum that mixed together beautifully with your own juices.

he stayed inside of you as you both caught your breaths a little. he reached forward and grabbed your phone from your hand, and focused it again on your cunt as he slowly pulled out. once his member was fully removed, he zoomed in on your hole as the mixture of liquids began to leak out and down onto the sheets below you.

once he felt like he got all the footage he needed, he locked your phone and threw it back onto the bed. mingyu could see you were too exhausted to move much on your own, so he went into your bathroom to get some towels to clean both you and the sheets up a bit before crawling into bed and cuddling with you.

he began petting your hair and showering you with praises. "you did so well, pretty girl. took my cock so well and looked so beautiful coming undone just for me." he kissed your forehead and you snuggled up closer to him, feeling so safe and warm in his big arms, comforted by the sound of his heart beating through his chest. you lay just like this for a bit before looking up at mingyu.

"thank you." he looks at you confused, cocking his head to the side like a curious puppy.

"thank you for making my dreams come true. even if it was just for one night.. i'm so happy to finally be with you like this."

mingyu looks a little upset at your words and you start to panic internally, fearing you've said something wrong.

"you don't have to thank me. i've wanted this just as badly, you know. but--" he stops for a moment but eventually continues. "was this just a one time thing for you?"

you're taken aback by how upset and almost insecure he seems, compared to how confident he had been all night.

"no!" it comes out a bit more panicked than you intended and you tried to calm yourself before continuing. "i just assumed.. i mean, would you want to do this again?"

"of course i would. you're the only girl i've wanted for years now, y/n. now that i've had you, i don't think i can ever let you go."

"but what about--" you stop yourself, realizing it would be weird for both of you to bring up your best friend and his younger sister while you're both laying naked together in bed after what you've just done. "are you sure?"

mingyu rolls over on his side, getting in a better position to look you in the eye and show you how sincere he is. "i've never been more sure about anything in my life. i'm completely yours, as long as you'll have me."

your eyes start to well up and you blink a couple times, mostly to make sure one final time that you're really not dreaming, but it also causes the tears to start streaming down. mingyu quickly wipes them away and caresses your cheek.

"of course i will, mingyu. you're literally a dream come true for me. like i told you earlier, i'm all yours."

mingyu pulls you closer to him and kisses you long and hard. when you finally part he just rests his forehead on yours for a moment and smiles, eyes still closed. when he's finally soaked up the moment, he quickly gets up from the bed leaving you a bit confused. he then walks around to your side and picks you up bridal-style without warning. you squeal at first and then start to giggle. he finds it so endearing how adorable you are and chuckles along with you.

"come on, pretty girl. let's go get properly cleaned up and get some well-deserved rest." he carries you across the room toward your bathroom so easily, as if you weigh nothing in his arms.

"yes, sir." your voice is so teasing now, completely unlike how you said the same phrase earlier that night.

"don't tease me, love. not unless you're ready for round two."

you smirk as you look up at him, still holding you while standing still in the doorway to your bathroom.

"i'm ready if you are."

a/n: this is my first nsfw piece so i hope it's okay 👉👈 any constructive feedback is greatly appreciated!! also, if you liked this please check out my other works here, and please reblog instead of just liking!

[butlervibesonly]

𝟕𝟑 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘/𝐍 𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐑

• Summary: You are an actress and Austin’s wife. Vogue has decided to make one of their famous interviews and you are more than happy to do it!

• Pairing: Austin Butler x Priscilla actress! reader

• Warnings: None, probably just my own admit that there is definitely not 73 questions cause it was so hard to make up

• Note: Hi there, loves! I watched 73 questions Vogue videos and I thought of this! All replies are from my head, and they are of course not personalized. Since we are all different you can change to reply for yourself, just like you would do! 🤍

“Okay, so Y/n, tell us what’s the first thing you do when you wake up?”

You smile, walking through your and Austin’s house.

“The first thing that I do when I wake up? I kiss my husband!”

“How would you describe your morning routine in three words?”

You think for a while, coming up with the three perfect words.

“Slow… cozy and… romantic.”

“Poetic! What’s the best part about being married to an actor?”

You step into your living room, camera following you to the couch.

“Probably the fact we get to live a thousand lives together.”

“Beautifully said! Is there any biggest challenge of working with your spouse?”

You chuckle, knowing exactly how to answer this.

“Probably film serious scenes. We can’t be serious when we’re together!”

You laugh, recalling the times when you and Austin couldn’t stop laughing while shooting arguing scene.

“What’s the most romantic thing Austin has ever done for you?”

Austin has done so many beautiful things but…

“Hmm... The fact that he married me and is spending the rest of his life with me is the most romantic thing I could wish for.”

The interviewer smiles, loving your answer.

“Ah, you two! If you and your husband could remake any classic film together, which one would it be?”

You laugh, as you look at your coffee table in front of you. There is the book that’s movie adaptation is your answer.

“Pride and Prejudice, indeed. I need to see Aus as Mr. Darcy flexing his hand!”

“What’s the secret to your on-screen chemistry?”

“There is no secret, we just go with the flow and let things come naturally.”

You stand up and make your way to kitchen.

“What’s one word that perfectly describes your relationship?”

“Passion.”

“Vintage or modern—if you had to choose one forever?”

You turn to your house, sensing the answer.

“Both mixed together! Duh!”

“What’s some of your most prized vintage possession?”

You smile widely, as you turn to arrange the flowers in your vase.

“A piece of jewelry that once belonged to Audrey Hepburn."

“Is there any classic Hollywood couple that inspires you?”

“Mmm… Love of Katherine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy was really interesting!”

You walk over to the musical part of your house.

“Wow! You have a lot of vinyls! What’s your go-to Elvis Presley song?”

Austin would love this question, but so do you.

“I would say… Where No One Stands Alone. The cover with Lisa Marie.”

“Perfect choice! If you could travel to one decade for one day, which one would it be?”

You sit down by the piano.

“The 1970s—pure rock and roll energy. Obviously!”

“Haha! I should have expected that! What’s your dream role that hasn’t happened yet?”

You look back at your roles and think…

“Something completely unexpected—a gritty, transformative role that challenges everything I’ve done before.”

“Y/n, I think fans are dying to know; what’s Austin’s underrated talent?”

With a grin you reply very quickly.

“He’s an incredible cook! Our kitchen turns into a five-star restaurant when Austin leads the kitchen and also, he writes the sweetest handwritten notes—every single one of them is a keeper.”

“That’s wonderful! What’s a book you recommend to everyone?”

You move to your bookshelf where you and Austin keep your books.

“Probably… Great Gatsby. Wonderful story and! Pride and Prejudice of course!”

You grin.

“If you could have coffee with any author, dead or alive, who would it be?”

“Jane Austen… Louisa May Alcott and… J. K. Rowling.”

“That would be fantastic meeting! What’s a fictional character you relate to the most?”

“That’s tricky one… Maybe Jo March? I love books, independence, and a little bit of rebellion.”

You lead the way to your yard.

“Who’s your dream co-star?”

“Meryl Streep.”

“Who is your biggest inspiration?”

You sit down on the porch.

“My husband—his passion and dedication push me to be better every day.”

“Do you prefer preparing for dramatic roles or lighthearted ones?”

“Preparing for both is fun!”

“Sweet or savory?”

“Sweet, anything homemade.”

“What’s your favorite movie that you and your husband have done together?”

You smile, thinking.

“Every single one is beautiful, but Elvis was fun.”

“What’s one film you both watch over and over again?”

“Easy! The Notebook!”

“Do you believe in love at first sight?”

“I do.”

You reply simply, because that’s exactly how you and Austin fell in love.

“What’s your idea of the perfect date night?”

“Good food, movie and each other’s company.”

“Sounds romantic! What’s the best meal you’ve ever had?”

“True, Italian Carbonara!”

“Who’s the funniest person you know?”

“Awh, c’mon… my husband again!”

“What’s the best compliment you’ve ever received?”

“That I am the best wife-“

You reply with love and affection.

“If you could own any piece of Hollywood memorabilia, what would it be?”

“That’s a tough one… I have no idea, probably script of Titanic?”

“Do you have any pre-show or on-set rituals?”

You nod.

“Listening to music eases my tense.”

“How do you unwind after a long day of filming?”

“Hot bath, and a good book.”

“What’s one thing your fans might not know about you?”

“I can’t go a day without reading a chapter from a book—even if it’s just a few pages.”

You chuckle, admitting.

“What’s your most-used phrase on set?”

“I am really clumsy sometimes so I say; Can we film that again?”

You can’t help but laugh.

“Cats or dogs?”

“Dogs!”

“Heels or flats?”

“Depends on where I wear it!”

“What’s your go-to accessory?”

You look at your hand.

“My wedding ring. Anywhere, anytime.”

“What’s a fashion trend from the past you’d love to bring back?”

You gasp, loving the question.

“Oh! I don’t know if this was ever fashion trend but I loved the way Princess Diana combined hoodie and cycle shorts!”

“What’s your signature perfume?”

“I love Miss Dior!”

You stand up and go your garden.

“Who’s your ultimate Hollywood icon?”

“Audrey Hepburn! I really love her, she was splendid actress.”

“What’s your dream vacation destination?”

You stop by your pool and smile.

“Some tropical paradise… Mauritius let’s say.”

“What’s a talent you wish you had?”

“I wish I could play the violin. Or any other musical instrument.”

“How do you memorize lines so quickly?”

You smile and raise your eyebrow.

“Who said I memorized them quickly?”

“What’s your favorite piece of furniture in your home”

“Even tho I can’t play it, probably our piano. I love watching Austin play it.”

“What’s one thing you always keep in your purse?”

As you remember, smile forms on your cheeks again.

“I carry a four leaf clover in my wallet. It’s my lucky charm!”

“What’s your favorite thing about being on set?”

“Making a lot of memories with my co-stars and having a lot of fun.”

“What’s a song that always gets you in a good mood?”

You chuckle and try to think of one song.

“I would say Dog Days Are Over by Florence & The Machine.”

“That’s catchy one! What’s your hidden talent?”

“Hidden talent? Haha, I have no clue!”

“How do you handle nerves before a big event?”

“Dancing! Shaking off the stress and nerves.”

“What’s your favorite way to spend a Sunday?”

“I love lazy Sundays so cuddles on couch, movies sometimes walks.”

You get up and walk to your house again.

“If you weren’t an actress, what would you be doing?”

You walk into the house and think about it.

“Probably… Fashion designer.”

“What’s your biggest pet peeve?”

“I really don’t like when you are talking to someone and they are not listening. Communication is a key.”

“What’s your go-to comfort food?”

“Croissants. Try the ones filled with chocolate!”

“What’s a moment in your career that you’ll never forget?”

“When Aus was nominated for an Oscar and both of us were surrounded by the actors we always looked up to.”

“What’s your favorite holiday tradition?”

“I love to bake gingerbread cookies on Christmas!”

“What’s the last book you read?”

You look back to your shelf.

“The last thing I read is From Here To The Great Unknown.”

“Who’s your ultimate style icon?”

“My dear friend Zendaya!”

“How cool! What’s the best advice you’ve ever received about marriage?”

You smile warmly, thinking of Austin immediately.

“Always support each other’s dreams, even when they take you in unexpected directions.”

“That’s beautiful, Y/n… What’s your favorite part of old Hollywood glamour?”

“The elegance—everyone carried themselves with such grace and mystery.”

You explain with a wink.

“What’s one thing about fame you didn’t expect?”

That’s interesting question you never thought about.

“How much more I’d value my private life once my public life got bigger… I appreciate the quiet moments away from it all.”

“How do you handle bad days?”

“Austin makes me happy. Always. Whenever I feel down he is my reason to raise up again.”

“Speaking of him… What’s a hobby you and your husband love doing together?”

“We try new stuff together! Whether it’s sport, art or anything else, we always try to do new things together.”

“If you could duet with Elvis on one song, which one would it be?”

You laugh, loving the thought of it.

“Well… maybe the classic Can’t Help Falling In Love.”

“What’s your biggest career goal right now?”

“Right now I focus on the upcoming projects, and do my best to make them happen.”

“Goos luck with them! What’s a quality you admire in your husband?”

“That he always listens. He can just sit there and listen to my hourly talking, but he listens every single word.”

You smile warmly, love spreading through your chest.

“What’s a quality he admires in you?”

“He always says I make any place feel like home.”

“How do you want to be remembered in Hollywood?”

“For my performances, but also for my kindness.”

“What’s your biggest hope for the future?”

“To build a family, a home, and a results of work I’m proud of.”

“And lastly what’s one piece of advice you’d give your younger self?”

“You don’t have to be perfect to be successful—just be real.”

From the many interviews you ever did — this was your favorite. Finally you could share the love and passion for everything. For your career, and especially for the love of your life.

[absolutebl]

MY BEST & WORST BLs of 2024

My Top 10 BLs of 2024 are (in order)

1 Cosmetic Playlover

Japan Gaga

I love this little show. It's a classic office BL about the older workaholic who loves his job and the younger upstart who unexpectedly loves his boss.

It’s a hyung romance where everybody is extremely earnest and sweet and pretty about everything. Except our seme, who is slightly unhinged and a little obsessed in all the ways one likes best from Japan. Utterly charming unexpected gem of a show. What fun!

Already in hard rewatch territory.

2 Love For Love's Sake

Korea iQIYI trigger suiside

KBL isekai about a man who must win a game by convincing a reserved teen outcast to fall in love with him. Of course, that teen represents himself and his own unhappiness. Like many queer narratives, this show is actually about self worth, trust, and found family, and it is VERY on the nose. But I don’t expect subtlety from my BL and I enjoyed it's truly lovely redemption arc and earnest performances. The narrative tension is tight, and the pacing is killer.

That said, I did find the flow a touch disjointed with overworked filming angles and poorer than average captions, but the consistency of tone, script, and immersion is spectacular, beyond the norm for BL (even KBL). You will drown in this show and like it that way. The leads have fantastic chemistry and it's ultimately highly rewatchable and utterly charming, which counts for a lot.

3 Unknown

Taiwan YouTube

Unknown is a wonderful BL with a pitch perfect portrayal of long term pining, age gap, and the stepbrothers trope. The acting and chemistry are ON POINT (especially from the leads) which made the resulting characters very believable.

When it dwells in intimate family drama, it's stunning. It's slightly less successful when it leaves the home and goes gritty. It's few flaws are the result of curtailed length. It could have used more breathing room to deal with side plots, characters, and companion character development. The editing was occasionally choppy and packed with flashbacks that broke the emotional tension. Still, those are mere quibbles for me. This is an excellent show based on one of my favorite old school BL tropes that I know I'm going to be recommending for a long time.

4 We Are

Thai iQIYI

I unabashedly loved show. It was slow to find its stride (I didn’t get into it until ep 6!) but I’m so glad I gave it a chance. It’s a soft ensemble piece with multiple couples and very little plot, but I didn’t care because it’s not trying to be anything more substantial.

Essentially, this was a series of vignettes covering one year of uni for a queer friendship group finding love, new friends, and laughter. It’s not being harsh with us or it’s characters the way some offerings of this ilk have been (side eyes Friend Zone and Only Friends) nor did it tumble into Gen Y chaos. In fact, this reminded me more than anything of a refined Love Sick - just with older characters and occurring within a genre that has matured over this last decade. It has that close queer friendship group meets earnest gentleness that made me adore Love Sick and Make It Right so much.

In other words, this was Thai BL at its finest, finding it roots again 10 years on, but also stretching upwards and showing us what it could do with that original seed. So? I adored it. Did it blow my mind? No. But it left me smiling and made me belly laugh quite a bit.

5 Cherry Magic (Thai remake)

Thai grey

A soft charming warm hug of a show about crushes and mind reading and self worth that really worked for me. With no-fuss execution from a consummate team and an OG lead pair (proving why they remain eternal and deserve to grow up).

Look, here’s the thing, Cherry Magic is a great Thai BL in its own right - not comparing it to any other iteration. But even when I do compare (and I've seen all the Cherries and read the manga) it stands strong.

I, personally, like the Thai BL slightly better than the Japanese live action yaoi, but I think that’s because I just really enjoy Thai BL's style and I LOVE TayNew (who may be my favorite OG branded pair still in operation). Also all the kissing was both present and better in this version. As it should be from Thailand.

Highly recommended.

6 Wandee Goodday

Thai YouTube

Such a FUN show. A charming quintessentially modern Thai BL about a doctor and a boxer who start as a one night stand and then fall in love. Great rep for everything from Muay Thai, to safe sex, to FUN sex, to ace, to bisexuality, to smiley kisses, to the first legal gay wedding in a Thai BL.

It’s a delight and I enjoyed (almost) every single moment of it. With out question it's best traits are active positive representations of green flag boys, communication, and grown-up relationships but the chemistry is ALSO on point. I personally can't (and don't) ask for much more than this from my BL.

Highly recommended as one of 2024's best pick-me-ups.

7 The Sign

Thai YouTube

This show is literally everything (except straight) all at once. It's BL, queer, band of brothers, romcom, erotica, PNR, fated mates, police procedural, fantasy, mystery, suspense, and slasher. It’s the king of genre mash-up chaos. Sure, it's madness but there is genius in it.

Was it a crazy unhinged mess +1 roll for damage? Yes. Yes it was.

Did it manage to hold all those tangled threads together? No it did not.

Was it also a charming, sexy, engaging, non-stop piece of entertainment? Sure thing.

I think this show is basically my KinnPorsche, and frankly I’ve been chasing that dragon naga since KP aired.

Is it perfect? No. But it was balls to the wall FUN.

Emphasis on balls.

8 Century of Love

Thai Gaga

This is a very pretty drama about a young man who fell in love with a nice girl 100 years ago, and when she died in his arms, he was cursed to live until he could meet her reborn self. Only this time around, she’s reborn into the body of a man. Or is she?

I love it when Thailand gets all up in its own historical business and reincarnation and shizz. I like this pair (it’s not DaouOffroad’s fault I didn’t enjoy their first series.) Daou’s wushu is snazzy and we got a unique meet cute. (Erm… Remeet cute? Meet cute 2.0?)

Ultimately, this is I Feel You Linger in the Air + First Love Again, rather than (as one might expect) Until We Meet Again or The Director Who Buys Me Dinner.

The leads turned in great performances, although Daou outclassed everybody else on that screen by making us really believe he's over 100 years old.

It’s a good story and a great BL and I can’t find any major faults with it beyond a certain level of camp that is sadly endemic to lakorns. I’m going to give it credit as the kind of BL that one could safely recommend to lovers of melodrama and historical romance, without having to qualify it as “good for a BL.”

It was, to put it succinctly, a VERY ENJOYABLE show.

9 Sugar Dog Life

Japan grey

This is a phenomenally charming and adorable little romance about a forlorn university kid and the police officer who adopts him. They are relentlessly kind to each other, in fact it’s an extremely kindly show over all (everyone in it is so nice to everyone else including us) so there’s very little tension. But what it lacks in drive, angst, and complexity it makes up for in earnest acts of service and simple affection.

These two are basically boyfriends from the get-go, it’s just one of them acts like it and doesn’t realize it and the other one realizes it and has to figure out how to make it a reality. It’s incredibly sweet and incredibly wholesome, nourishing but delicious.

Everybody who can, should watch this show. It will make you feel better about life.

10 The Rebound

Thai iQIYI

I am well aware that objectively this show was, erm, NOT good. But this was a sports romance Thai BL pulp with everything I could have asked for given this sub genre. More, actually, since MeenPing are both great basketball players and the team component really did form part of the connective tissue of the show (vital in a sports romance IMHO since these are band-of-brothers narratives).

Meen has his shirt off within the first two minutes which is all I needed but he's still pretty great as the sullen secret-keeper against Ping's cheerful survivor - childhood sweethearts torn asunder and now reunited. Then Frank sweeps in to give everyone a bad case of second lead syndrome.

I always try to judge BL for what it is AS BL, and what it’s trying to do within its own territory and purview. This did exactly what it claimed on the tin: gay boys play b-ball and fall in love. That was all I wanted from it. Sure there was random kidnapping and a light bought of mass murder, but what’s a BL in 2024 without a touch of the mafia? You do you little pulp, I’m disposed to be pleased.

These BLs all got 9/10s from me. Unlike in 2023, I did not hand out any 10/10 to any BLs in 2024.

The 13 BLs That I DNFed in 2024

(no particular order)

7 Days Before Valentine

Bad Guy My Boss

Bad to Bed

Beside You

Close Friend 3 Soju Bomb

Happy of the End

Kiseki Chapter 2

My Universe: Refund Love

Ossans Love – Season 2 (5 years later)

Playboyy

The Hidden Moon

The Whisperer

Time the series

You can consider these my "worst BLs of 2024." I am no longer a BL completest, too many aired in 2023 and it broke me. I now DNF all whenever I feel like it.

Codicil

I only carefully track/watch Thailand, Taiwan, Korea, and Japan. Other countries are not fully represented.

2024 - My Numbers

So my spreadsheet chronicled 109 BLs that finish airing in 2024 (down substantially from 138 last year). Japan has increased production slightly (length and consistency), Taiwan stayed steady, but Korea cut back - as did Vietnam, the Philippines, and Thailand.

73 = watched & reviewed (almost 30 less than 2023! I fell off the wagon in a big way)

3 = I'm still thinking about watching/finishing (4Minutes, Blue Canvas of Youthful Days, Spare Me Your Mercy)

20 = CNF (could not find)

13 = DNF (which accounts for how few very low scores I handed out, I just stopped watching). Speaking of which...

Ratings spread

(# of stars. & # of BLs given that rating)

0 (see DNFs instead)

1 - IT'S DEPRESSING they killed the gay, save yourself

1 - I DON'T KNOW WHAT I AM WATCHING AND NEITHER DOES IT

3 - FATALLY FLAWED but still basically BL, however… do we want to support this kind of behavior?

3 - WATCH IF YOU HAVE NOTHING BETTER TO DO but don’t expect much, it’s a total hot mess

9 - WORTH WATCHING BUT FLAWED probably around the ending or in narrative structure/cohesion or censorship

24 - RECOMMENDED WITH RESERVATIONS i.e. isn’t quite BL, convoluted, not strictly HEA, too short/long, or chemistry issues

22 - RECOMMENDED some concerns around tropes (like dub con) or story structure but still satisfies as BL

10 - ABSOLUTELY RECOMMENDED probably a few pacing issues or one flaw

0 - HIGHLY RECOMMENDED faithful to tropes, happy ending, good chemistry, few flaws, high rewatch potential

Favorite 2024 call out?

The Sign's nod to UWMA

Most adorable meta moment of 2024?

Wandee Goodday

Most stunning execution of a traditional trope in 2024.

Began Beginning (the shoulder lean)

(source)

[spider-stark]

INFINITELY YOU

part three // spitfire

SUMMARY - In every universe, Peter Parker seems destined to fall in love with you. And, in every universe, he realizes it too late. When universes collide and two of them are granted a second chance at rectifying their biggest mistake, neither of them are willing to let the opportunity go to waste–even if you end up not being the person they thought you were.

WARNINGS - 18+, minors DNI

WORD COUNT - 4.5k

// masterlist // series masterlist // send me your thoughts // no way home fan fiction // rewrite

name key: tom!peter = peter // andrew!peter = parker // tobey!peter = pete

On the walk back from Peter Pan’s, it seemed as though Parker had managed to entirely escape the sputtering awkwardness that had ensnared him the night before. 

And, after countless city blocks of listening to him babble about absolutely everything and anything, you realized that there was one very striking similarity between him and Peter. 

Both boys had a fervent interest in all things nerd. 

“New Hope takes place nearly two decades after the rise of the Galactic Empire, meaning that Leia is only nineteen when she's kidnapped and forced aboard the Death Star! Which is like, absolutely insane, right? Seriously! Imagine being nineteen years old and stuck inside of something that has the potential to obliterate an entire planet!” 

Shoving open the lobby door to your complex, Parker hardly even waits for you to hum your agreement before continuing his retelling of the Star Wars film. 

“And at the exact same time, Luke is finally beginning his Jedi training! Which, honestly, nineteen is actually super old for that, but-” 

Moving towards the stairs, Parker close on your heels, you cut him off with a question. “Too old? Nineteen is hardly even an adult,” you argue. “What age do most Jedi start training?” 

“About four or five, so obviously Luke was way behind,” 

Not even a full three stairs up, you come to a grinding halt, leaving Parker to bump into your back. “Four?!” You cry out, wide-eyed as you spin around to face him. “That’s insane!” 

Parker only lifts his shoulders, clearly not understanding the reason for your horror. 

Furthering your point, you add, “There’s nothing ethical about taking a bunch of little kids and training them to be weird, intergalactic warriors!” 

“It’s the best way to train them!” He lifts his hand defensively, explaining, “The earlier they start training, the less likely it is that the kids will have formed an attachment to their families! That way they learn to act out of logic instead of emotion!” 

For a heartbeat, you’re rendered entirely speechless by the absurdity of his claim, left to stand with your mouth agape as you blink at him. 

“That sounds like emotional abuse,” you finally huff, shaking your head. “Actually, scratch that—it doesn’t sound like emotional abuse, it just is!” 

“It’s not abuse-” 

You hold a hand up, stopping him before he can say anything else. “Give me one good reason why a group of adults should withhold love and affection from children if they aren’t abusing them.” 

“Uh, how about the fact that love is basically what made Anakin turn to the dark side!” Parker scoffs, clearly unwilling to recognize how insane the notion he was pushing actually is. 

“Or maybe Anakin turned to the dark side because he was indoctrinated and traumatized by some stupid space cult!” 

The expression on his face is downright laughable. 

It was as if you had just reached out and slapped him across the face. His jaw went slack, his mouth hung open in blatant offense. As a sputtering noise falls from his lips, trying and failing to come up with a good rebuttal, you smirk. 

“Exactly,” you boast, taking his inability to speak as a sign of victory. 

Twirling on your heel, you continue up the stairs, nearly all the way to the top before you finally hear him come stomping up behind you. 

“The Jedi Order is not a cult!” He finally shouts after you. 

Already traipsing through the hallway, fiddling with your keys, you sing-song, “Whatever you say, bug-boy.” 

Reluctant to admit defeat, Parker continues grumbling under his breath as you unlock the door, spouting something off about your lack of respect for George Lucas. 

“Look,” you tell him, pushing the door open, “if liking Star Wars matters this much to you, then I’ll gladly watch them with you.” A wry smile plays on your lips as you turn to look at him, standing in the doorway, “Maybe watching them will be enough to change my opinion on turning kids into galactic slaves.” 

Eyes narrowing in a playful glare, he’s only able to hold the expression for less than a few seconds before a laugh causes him to break character. “I just can’t believe that Peter hasn’t made you watch them already,” he admits. “I had you watch them so much that you could probably recite the scripts from memory alone!” 

His amusement dies off as soon as he finishes the sentence. Despite having been the one to bring it up, the mention of his world seems to cast a sullen shadow over him, ruining his sweet, boyish smile. 

Curiosity instantly claws at you, begging you to ask him why his world seemed to have such a negative effect on him. Or, rather, why his version of you seemed to have such an effect. 

This had happened last night too, when you had asked him if the two of you were friends in his world—and it was because of this that you assume that you’re somehow the common denominator in his discomfort. 

Still, you don’t let yourself ask him about it. For as much as you’re starting to like Parker, you don’t know him nearly well enough to try prying into his life. 

Not yet, at least. 

“Well, you’re more than welcome to force me into sitting through them in this world, too.” You tell him sweetly, sweeping an arm out to gesture inside of your apartment, inviting him. “It’s not like I’ve got any plans for the rest of the day.” 

You couldn’t even remember the last time you did have plans. Life had been so quiet since that last night with Peter and Mj—the night when everything went so horribly wrong. 

Parker sucks in a breath through his teeth, a hand coming to rest against the back of his neck. “I should probably get back out on the streets,” he reluctantly says, sounding more like he was convincing himself of that than you. “But, I don’t know, maybe we can take a rain check on it, yeah?” 

Disappointment washes over you, sudden enough that you’re sure it shines through on your face. It takes a shocking amount of willpower to stop yourself from trying to persuade him to stay, wanting to remind him that two other Spider-Men were already running themselves ragged in pursuit of the villains—so why did he have to go, too? 

You had grown used to his constant talking, having found solace in the chatter that kept you from slipping too far into your own thoughts. Selfishly, you wanted him to stay so that you wouldn’t have to be alone; so that you wouldn’t have to risk thinking too long about Doctor Strange or the multiverse or constants or Peter. 

The thought of admitting any of that out loud, however, felt incredibly humiliating. 

“For sure,” you force a smile, trying to ignore the many thoughts swirling in your mind. Then, eyeing the slightly too-tight Ramones shirt that he’d stolen from you, you add, “But shouldn’t you at least come in and change?” 

His nose wrinkles slightly as he shakes his head. “Nah—I think this city has more than enough spider-people swinging around it right now. I figure we might actually benefit from one of us patrolling on the ground-level, y’know? Maybe I can ask around for any giant lizards or blown light bulbs.” 

It’s hard to tell if the last bit is meant to be a joke or not, but you laugh anyway if only to avoid knowing why you should be worried about lizards and light bulbs. 

“Sounds like a plan,” you second his idea. “Well, I guess I’ll see you later then?” 

A surprising sense of joy lights his eyes at the sound of your hesitance, unfitting of the simplicity of the moment, but charming nonetheless. He grins—a wide and endearing sort of grin—as he takes a step back, “I won’t be gone long,” he promises before reminding you, “lock the door behind you, alright? And if you need anything-” 

He pauses, patting the pockets of his jeans only to remember that he didn’t bring a phone with him to this universe—and that, even if he did, there likely wasn’t a wireless plan good enough to support multiversal travel. 

“If you need anything, call 911.” 

“Got it,” you laugh, watching as he stumbles backwards towards the stairwell, cheeks red with faint embarrassment. 

Turning to go inside, you can’t ignore the warmth that now blooms in your chest. 

You could definitely get used to having him around. 

A peculiar sensation prickles at your skin, curling along your spine like icy fingertips. 

Something was wrong. Very wrong. 

The usually comfortable atmosphere of your apartment had shifted. An eerie tension fills the space, a near-suffocating feeling that has the very walls holding their breath, humming a tune of warning as you inch further into the living room. 

Your stomach twists as the sharp tang of exhaust fumes fills your nostrils. By the couch, a faint breeze rustles the curtains of a window, wafting in the nauseating scent of the city street below—a window that hadn’t been open when you left earlier. 

A mere foot or so away, you notice that the picture frame Parker had been fiddling with before is now lying on its face, having been knocked off the end table and abandoned. Atop the table, you notice that the lamp is sitting askew, its base just inches from tumbling over the edge and joining the frame. 

Someone had come in through your window—and it didn’t appear as though stealth had been very important to them, given that they had clearly stumbled into the table upon their entrance. 

Adrenaline floods your senses, your spine stiffening as you take a series of slow, quiet steps. 

Moving towards the corner, you carefully reach out a hand to grab the metal bat propped against the wall. The bat had been an unlikely housewarming present from when you first moved in, given to you by Peter’s mentor and your own reluctant renegade, Tony Stark. For nearly two years now it had sat in this corner, unused and gathering dust—until now. 

You wrap your fingers tightly around the base, wincing slightly as the rubber grip pulls at the still-healing flesh on your palm, making you curse yourself for not properly bandaging the wound last night. 

But you’re used to pain—and so you’re easily able to bite back against it as you ease through the living room, checking for any sign of the intruder's presence. 

As you walk, gripping the bat like your life depends on it, you can’t help but hear Tony Stark’s voice echo in your mind. 

If you’re gonna live alone, then you should have some sort of protection—he had told you, gently placing the cool steel into your hands for the first time, a ribbon tied sloppily around it—not that you need it. 

Satisfied with your search of the living room, you start easing towards the hall. You’re good at sneaking around, having had a lot of practice at it—every movement you make is calculated, every footfall so purposefully gentle that it’s nearly silent. 

Quiet as you were, you could do nothing to ease the sound of your blood thrumming wildly in your own ears, your heart pounding against your chest. 

The incessant beating worries you—because you know that there are people in the world with the unnatural ability to hear such things. Peter, even with his enhanced hearing, had to be close to someone in order to hear something as soft as their heartbeat; but you had heard rumors that there were others who could hear a pulse from miles away, others like the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. 

The thought makes your blood run cold, though you try to push the worries from your mind. From what you know, the Devil doesn’t have a habit of breaking into apartments, nor was Queen's his usual jurisdiction. 

No—what you were dealing with had to be no more than an average burglar! 

An average burglar who, somehow, scaled up the side of a building to break into your apartment… 

Alright—you think, approaching the end of the hall—perhaps it’s a not-so-average burglar, then! Still better than the Devil. 

Peeling one hand from the bat’s handle, you curl your fingers around the doorknob to the guest room, Parker’s room. You ease the door open slowly, trying to keep the old hinges from crying out as you peer into the space. 

The sweet scent of vanilla is the first thing that hits you, contrasted by the subtle bite of vetiver. 

Parker—the room smells of him, even though he had only been here for one night. 

On the bed, the quilt is rumpled and thrown about, pillows strewn about. The doors of the armoire are wide open, a few old shirts hanging over the edge of one of the shelves, no doubt from when he went digging through your clothes in search of something to wear. 

The room was messy, but empty. 

Your shoulders sag, half-a-breath loosing from your lungs. The relief is short-lived, however; as by the time you edge back into the hall to turn towards your own door, you’re overwhelmed with dread. 

If whoever broke in was still here, then this was the only place they could be—save for the bathroom, though you seriously doubt any burglar would have much interest in scouring through your toiletries… 

Easily, gracefully, you twist the knob, the metal yielding quietly to your careful touch. 

The curtains are tightly drawn, eradicating any trace of sunlight and leaving the room cloaked in shadows. But, even in the darkness, you’re able to see the rough outline of a figure sprawled out across your mattress. 

For a split second, you think of Parker’s advice to call 911, the weight of your phone suddenly heavy in your back pocket. 

You think of how you should follow that advice. 

You think about how fast you could run—if you would be able to reach the front door before they could catch up to you. 

But then you stop thinking, disregarding all logic and reason as you take a step into the room, as if drawn in by some invisible force. 

Remaining mindful of your surroundings, you slowly approach the edge of the bed. Squinting in the darkness, you try to study the body laid out atop your comforter. Watching the steady rise-and-fall of their chest, it suddenly hits you that, whoever they are, they’re asleep. 

Slinking around the corner and coming to stand at your bedside, you’re finally close enough that you can see them in spite of the absence of light. Crimson and blue spandex clings tightly to their arms as they cling one of your pillows to their chest, and you feel your entire body sag with relief as you loosen your grip on the bat. 

So this must be Peter 2. 

The fabric of his mask is bunched up and resting along the bridge of his nose, which is somewhat smushed against the pillow he’s holding, no doubt leaving him to breathe in the scent of laundry detergent and your perfume. 

Lower, you can make out the subtle contours of his jawline and the curve of soft, pink lips. Higher, you’re met with the impassive stare of then white lenses sewn into his mask. 

The lenses shield his eyes from your view, and a curious feeling begins to tug at the furthest corners of your mind. Take it off—it seems to whisper, compelling you to move in closer, your shins pressing against the side of the mattress—take it off. 

You grit your teeth and try to ignore the feeling, try to ignore the velvet-voice slithering through your mind; begging you to look at him, to touch him, to notice him, to-

Pain shoots along the side of your temple, likely in response to the sudden tightness in your jaw. It distracts you enough that you’re able to shake the strange feeling long enough to regain your focus—even if the remnants of it still linger. 

You shouldn’t be interested in him—you should be pissed at him. 

Not only had he broken into your house, which was already bad enough, but he had also climbed into your bed and made himself cozy! The absolute gall, the audacity he must have, has you allowing the tiniest sliver of rage to ignite inside of you. 

Both hands still gripping the bat, you lower it from where it rests against your shoulder to swiftly jab its head into his stomach. 

A cough sputters past his lips as the impact pushes the air from his lungs. 

You’re actually shocked that you landed the blow—in truth, you had expected his spider-sense to kick in and detect the incoming hit, waking him with just enough time to dodge the shot. But, apparently, his instincts had made the mistake of assuming that you were of no threat to him. 

“Morning sunshine,” you chime, your feigned cheerfulness set off by a sneer. 

He’s scrambling into an upright position, knees sinking into the mattress as he presses a hand against the sore spot you’d created on his stomach. “What the fu-” 

His voice is hoarse—from sleep or pain, you’re not sure—and he doesn’t finish the curse spewing from his mouth once his head shoots up towards you, as if finally registering the sound of your voice. 

“I don’t know what things are like in your world,” you muse, swinging your bat back to rest against your shoulder, “but in this one, breaking and entering is considered a crime.” 

He’s still catching his breath, and while those damn white lenses covering his eyes give so little emotion away, you assume that he’s going to apologize. It’s what Peter would do, and Parker, too. 

But not him. 

“Your friends said I could stay here,” he defends himself. Taking another deep breath and extinguishing the burning in his lungs, the lower-half of his face transforms into a defiant smirk. “It’s not breaking and entering if you were invited.” 

“And did they tell you to sleep in my bed, too?” You shoot back, brows rising in annoyance. “Word of advice: next time you’re invited to stay in a total stranger’s house, maybe try not to repay their kindness by crawling through their window.” 

He mocks you without missing a beat, “Word of advice: you live in a shitty neighborhood—if you don’t want people coming through your windows, you should try locking them.” 

“Ah, right! Cause the average person is definitely willing to scale the side of a building for the prospect of an unlocked window!” 

“You’re a pretty girl in a dangerous city,” he drones, lifting a shoulder as he meets your sarcasm with purposeful calm. “You’d be surprised what people would be willing to do for a chance at getting you alone.” 

The insinuation sends a shiver down your spine, but you mask your unease, flashing a smile that’s more predatory than sweet. “Aw,” you coo, “so you think I’m pretty?” 

He returns the expression, skillfully avoiding your derisive question. “I think you’re irresponsible—and a little cocky.” 

“Better to be cocky than a felon,” you remark. “Just spare my neighbors the acrobatics show next time, would you? Maybe try knocking on the door like a normal person! Preferably when you’re not dressed like… that.” 

It’s not that his suit wasn’t nice, because it was. But it lacks the advanced Stark-tech that makes Peter’s suit so uniquely sleek, meaning that it was likely safe to assume that no one in this world would mistake this boy for the real Spider-Man. 

Unless they were to catch him scaling up the side of your building… 

“I tried knocking.” he sounds exasperated, as if you are testing his patience. “You weren’t home.” 

You snort a laugh, wondering if he truly believes that is all the reason he needs to break into someone's home. 

“Then you should’ve waited until I got home,” 

“I hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours. I was too tired to wait.” 

“Then you should’ve slept in the alleyway with the rest of the strays,” you hiss at him, fingers tightening around the bat as your frustration builds. 

The sheer ferocity in your voice gives him pause, stunning him into silence. 

Then the corner of his mouth begins to twitch upwards, lazily grinning at you as if he actually enjoys the verbal onslaught. 

You can tell that he’s watching you through those white lenses, and his tongue darts over his bottom lip, you feel your breath catch in your throat. “Fine,” amusement dances in his tone as he raises his gloved hands, “fair enough.” 

For a moment, no sound comes from your parted lips, leaving you to stand there gaping at him until you remember how to speak. “Fair enough?” You echo, shaking your head slightly. “That’s all you’ve got? No apology?” 

He moves, forcing you to take a step back as he shoves his legs over the side of the bed and rises to his feet. He’s not as tall as Parker, but he still stands an inch or so higher than you, making it hard to not feel intimidated as he stares down at you, your own face staring back from the reflection of his lenses. 

“Better not push your luck, Spitfire,” 

He’s baiting you—he has to be! Using a stupid nickname to get under your skin, to try and prod further at your short temper. And it’s working—god, you hate how much it’s working!—because you find yourself contemplating putting his superhuman durability to the test by whacking him over the head with your bat. 

“By the way,” he says before you have a chance to act on your intrusive thoughts, pointing at your hands, “you’re bleeding.” 

As if his words switch a flip in your head, you’re suddenly aware of the acute throbbing in your palm. You loosen your grip on the bat, letting it clatter recklessly to the floor as you hold your hand out to examine it. 

Unsurprisingly, the rubber handle managed to tear open the barely-healed cut on your palm, courtesy of your too-tight grip on it. You hiss through your teeth, watching as blood oozed from the cut, dripping down towards your wrist. 

Slipping past you, the boy only half-manages to stifle his laugh. “You should probably take care of that.” 

He’s already slipping out into the hall by the time you regain enough awareness to follow after him, gritting your teeth against the pain. 

“And where do you think you’re going?” 

“To the other room,” he calls over his shoulder. Once he’s standing in front of Parker’s door, he spins back around to face you, his snarky expression still in-tact. “Where I’m hoping you won’t follow me.” 

Everything about him causes your blood to boil—his grating voice, his insolent attitude, his stupid soft lips. 

“Would it kill you to be nice to me?” You exclaim, your voice strained with pain as you try to wrap your hand in the lower half of your shirt. 

It takes no-time for blood to start seeping through the thin material, and you certainly don’t look intimidating like this—the lower half of your abdomen on display as you try to apply whatever pressure you can to the wound—but you don’t care. 

“I don’t have to let you and Parker stay in my house—I’m doing it because I’m nice, alright? And, so far, you’ve been nothing but a dick!” 

The thin fabric of his mask shifts, brows furrowing at the mention of Parker. Unlike Peter, however, he doesn’t bother commenting on the nickname. “Nice isn’t exactly the word I’d use to describe you. Especially since you’re the one calling me names.” 

The levity in his tone makes you want to scream—what was his deal?! 

You press harder against your bleeding palm, your breathing turning shallow. You’re not sure if it’s frustration or pain or what, but you feel like your head is spinning. “Look, I don’t know you, alright? But this? Isn’t gonna work,” you bark at him, chin lifted defiantly as you stare into his mask, unrelenting. “If you plan on staying in my house, then you’ll get your shit together—got it?” 

His head tilts, curiously watching as you continue your frantic speech. 

“No crawling in through my windows or sleeping in my bed or smarting shit off! And take off that stupid mask!” You huff, shaking your head. “Or, I don’t know, pull it down the rest of the way! Just do something because you look stupid like that!” 

The words are spewing from your mouth like a torrential downpour, fueled by the rage swirling in your stomach and the throbbing in your hand and—

He laughs, a genuine laugh that isn’t born of derision, and you feel your racing thoughts slow to a halt. “You should work on your insults,” reaching for the nape of his neck, he tugs his mask off. “Because that was pathetic.” 

It’s no longer just your thoughts that have slowed, but the entire world. Everything around you feels like it has come skidding to a stop—leaving you staring up at him like a dumbfounded idiot. 

He’s beautiful—a commonality among Peter’s variants, it seems. 

He’s smirking, an infuriatingly charming smirk that lets you know he has no intention of listening to your demands for him to silence his quick wit. But you’re not focusing on that—no, you’re focusing on the features that had been hidden from you this whole time; his dark hair, tousled from removing his mask, falls in a chaotic halo around his face, contrasting the vibrance of his eyes. 

His eyes. 

They leave you breathless, and you hate it. Colored with the deepest cerulean you’ve ever seen, his eyes feel like staring into the depths of a crystalline ocean. You can almost feel yourself getting swept up in their tides, feel them enveloping you in a feeling of familiarity, as if this wasn’t the first time you had been pulled into their ebbing waters. 

“Have we–” your mouth has gone dry, your voice cracking. “Have we met before?” 

It’s a ridiculous question, and you recognize that even as it’s spilling from your lips. You couldn’t have met him before—not when the two of you weren’t even from the same universe! 

He seems to be thinking the same thing, and you’re already preparing to take the full force of whatever smartass comment he’s about to fling at you. “I’ve met you,” he says simply, taking you by surprise. Then he inclines his head towards your still-bleeding hand, “You should patch yourself up before you stain the carpet.” 

You look down at your hand, at the hem of your shirt, soaked in blood. 

“But just so I know,” you look back up, his body half-turned towards the door, his fingers resting against the knob, “if Peter and Parker are already taken, then who does that make me?” 

You have to force yourself to take a breath. “What did I call you in your world?” He’s silent for a moment, staring at the floor and chewing on his lip. Then, pushing the door to Parker’s room—their room—open, he smiles.

“Pete.”

a/n - ayyy, pete's finally here! and, ofc, lots of other little important details sprinkled around as well.

also, i really wanna say thank you to everyone who has been reading and enjoying this story so far! it truly means the world to me to read all of the nice comments and to know that you guys are interested in this story! so, again, thank you 💖 as always, please comment/like/reblog and let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist!

part four, titled "blooms of subterfuge", to be released april 29th

[artsekey]

Disney's Wish

Look, Disney's Wish has been universally panned across the internet, and for good reason.

It’s just…kind of okay.

 When we sit down to watch a Disney film—you know, from the company that dominated the animation industry from 1989 to (arguably) the mid 2010’s and defined the medium of animation for decades—we expect something magnificent. Now, I could sit here and tell you everything that I thought was wrong with Wish, but if you’re reading this review, then I imagine that you’ve already heard the most popular gripes from other users across the web. So, let me focus in:

The biggest problem with Wish—in fact, the only problem with Wish—is Magnifico.

Whoa, that’s crazy! There’re so many things about Wish that could’ve been better! The original concept was stronger! The music was bad--

I hear you, I do. But stay with me here, okay? Take my hand. I studied under artists from the Disney renaissance. I teach an adapted model of Disney’s story pipeline at a University level. I spent a ridiculous amount of time getting degrees in this, and I am about to dissect this character and the narrative to a stupid degree.

First, we need to understand that a good story doesn’t start and end with what we see on the screen. Characters aren’t just fictional people; when used well, characters are tools the author uses (or in this case, the director) to convey their message to the audience. Each character’s struggle should in some way engage with the story’s message, and consequently, the story’s theme. Similarly, when we look at our protagonist and our antagonist, we should see their characters and their journeys reflected in one-another.

So, what went wrong between Asha & Magnifico in terms of narrative structure?

Act I

In Wish, we’re introduced to our hero not long into the runtime—Asha. She’s ambitious, caring, and community-oriented; in fact, Asha is truly introduced to the audience through her love of Rosas (in “Welcome to Rosas”).  She’s surrounded by a colorful cast of friends who act as servants in the palace, furthering her connection with the idea of community but also telling us that she’s not of status, and then she makes her way to meet Magnifico for her chance to become his next apprentice.

Quick aside: I'm not going to harp on Asha as a character in the context of Disney's overall canon. Almost every review I've seen covers her as a new addition to Disney's ever-growing repertoire of "Cute Quirky Heroines", and I think to be fair to Asha as an actor in the narrative, it serves her best to be weighed within the context of the story she's part of.

As Asha heads upstairs for her interview, we're introduced to the man of the hour: Magnifico. He lives in a tower high above the population of Rosas, immediately showing us how he differs from Asha; he’s disconnected from his community. He lives above them. He has status. While the broader context of the narrative wants us to believe that this also represents a sense of superiority, I would argue that isn’t what Magnifico’s introduction conveys; he's isolated.

Despite this distance, he does connect with Asha in “At All Costs”. For a moment, their goals and values align. In fact, they align so well that Magnifico sees Asha as someone who cares as much about Rosas as he does, and almost offers her the position.

… Until she asks him to grant Saba’s wish.

This is framed by the narrative as a misstep. The resonance between their ideals snaps immediately, and Magnifico says something along the line of “Wow. Most people wait at least a year before asking for something.”

This disappointment isn't played as coming from a place of power or superiority. He was excited by the idea of working with someone who had the same values as he did, who viewed Rosas in the same way he does, and then learns that Asha’s motivations at least partially stem from a place of personal gain.

Well, wait, is that really Asha's goal?

While it's not wholistically her goal, it's very explicitly stated & implied that getting Saba's wish granted is at least a part of it. The audience learns (through Asha's conversation with her friends before the interview) that every apprentice Magnifico has ever had gets not only their wish granted, but the wishes of their family, too!  Asha doesn’t deny that this is a perk that she’s interested in, and I don't think this is a bad thing.

So, Is Asha’s commitment to Saba selfless, or selfish? I’m sure the director wanted it to seem selfless, wherein she believes her family member has waited long enough and deserves his wish granted, but we can’t ignore the broader context of Asha essentially trying to… skip the line.

Then, we get our first point of tension. Magnifico reveals his “true colors” in snapping at Asha, telling her that he “decides what people deserve”. This is supposed to be the great motivator, it’s meant to incite anger in the audience—after all, no one gets to decide what you deserve, right? But unfortunately for the integrity of the film and the audience's suspension of disbelief, at least part of Magnifico’s argument is a little too sound to ignore:

Some wishes are too vague and dangerous to grant. Now, there’s visual irony here; he says this after looking at a 100 old man playing the lute. The idea that something so innocuous could be dangerous is absurd, and the audience is meant to agree.

... But we’ve also seen plenty of other wishes that might be chaotic—flying on a rocket to space, anyone? The use of the word vague is important, too—this implies wording matters, and that a wish can be misinterpreted or evolve into something that is dangerous even if the original intent was innocuous. His reasoning for people forgetting their wish (protecting them from the sadness of being unable to attain their dreams) is much weaker, but still justifiable (in the way an antagonist’s flawed views can be justified). The film even introduces a facet of Magnifico’s backstory that implies he has personal experience with the grief of losing a dream (in the destruction of his home), but that thread is never touched on again.

              What is the audience supposed to take from this encounter? If we’re looking at the director’s intent, I’d argue that we’ve been introduced to a well-meaning young girl and a king who’s locked away everyone’s greatest aspiration because he believes he deserves to have the power to decide who gets to be happy.

              But what are we shown? Our heroine, backed by her friends, strives to be Magnifico’s apprentice because she loves the city but also would really like to see her family's wishes granted. When this request is denied and she loses the opportunity to be his apprentice, she deems Magnifico’s judgement unfair & thus begins her journey to free the dreams of Rosas’ people.

              In fairness, Magnifico doesn’t exhibit sound judgement or kindness through this act of the film. He’s shown to be fickle, and once his composure cracks, he can be vindictive and sharp. He's not a good guy, but I'd argue he's not outright evil. He's just got the makings of a good villain, and those spikes of volatility do give us a foundation to work off of as he spirals, but as we’ll discuss in a bit, the foreshadowing established here isn’t used to the ends it implies.

              While I was watching this film, I was sure Magnifico was going to be a redeemable villain. He can’t connect with people because he's sure they value what he provides more than they value him (as seen in “At All Costs” and the aftermath), and Asha’s asking for more was going to be framed as a mistake. His flaw was keeping his people too safe and never giving them the chance to sink or swim, and he's too far removed from his citizens to see that he is appreciated. Asha does identify this, and the culmination of her journey is giving people the right to choose their path, but the way Magnifico becomes the “true” villain and his motivations for doing so are strangely divorced from what we’re shown in Act I.  

Act II:

His song, “This is the Thanks I Get!?” furthers the idea that Magnifico’s ire—and tipping point—is the fact that he thinks the people he’s built a kingdom for still want more. Over the course of this 3:14 song, we suddenly learn that Magnifico sends other people to help his community and doesn’t personally get involved (we never see this outside of this song), and that he’s incredibly vain/narcissistic (he's definitely a narcissist). I think feeling under-appreciated is actually a very strong motivation for Magnifico as a character-turning-villain, and it works very well. It’s justified based on what we’ve seen on screen so far: he feels under-appreciated (even though he’s decidedly not—the town adores him), he snaps and acts irrationally under stress (as seen with his outburst with Asha), and he’s frustrated that people seem to want more from him (again, as seen with his conversation with Asha in Act I).

              But then… he opens the book.

Ah, the book. As an object on screen, we know that it's filled with ancient and evil magic, well-known to be cursed by every relevant character in the film, and kept well-secured under lock and key. But what does it stand for in the context of the narrative's structure? A quick path to power? We're never told that it has any redeeming qualities; Magnifico himself doesn't seem to know what he's looking for when he opens it. It feels... convenient.

I think it's also worth noting that he only turns to the book when he's alone; once again, the idea of connection and community rears it's ugly head! Earlier in the film, Amaya-- his wife-- is present and turns him away from taking that path. In her absence, he makes the wrong choice.

This decision could make sense; it contains powerful magic, and if it were framed in such a way that the people of Rosas were losing faith in Magnifico’s magic, as if what he can do might not be enough anymore after what they felt from Star, going for the book that we know contains spells that go above and beyond what he can already do would be logical. Along the lines of, “If they’re not happy with what I do for them, fine. I, ever the “martyr”, will do the unthinkable for you, because you want more.”

            It would keeps with the idea that Magnifico believes he's still trying to help people, but his motivation has taken his self-imposed pity party and turned it into resentment and spite.

 But, that’s not the case. Instead he talks about reversing that “light”, which has had no real negative or tangible consequences on Rosas. Everyone had a warm feeling for a few seconds. Again, it’s meant to paint him as a vain control freak, but… he hasn’t lost any power. The citizens of Rosas even assume the great showing of magic was Magnifico.

Act III

              Then, we get to the consequences of opening the book (and perhaps my biggest qualm with this film). The book is established as being cursed. Magnifico knows it, Asha knows it, and Amaya—who is introduced as loyal-- knows it. The characters understand his behavior is a direct result of the book, and search for a way to save him. This is only the focus of the film for a few seconds, but if you think about it, the fact that his own wife cannot find a way to free him of the curse he’s been put under is unbelievably tragic. Worse still, upon discovering there is no way to reverse the curse, Magnifico—the king who built the city & “protected it” in his own flawed way for what seems to be centuries—is thrown out by his wife. You know, the wife who's stood loyal at his side for years?

              It’s played for laughs, but there’s something unsettling about a character who’s clearly and explicitly under the influence of a malevolent entity being left… unsaved. If you follow the idea of Magnifico being disconnected from community being a driving force behind his arc, the end of the film sees him in a worse situation he was in at the start: truly, fully alone.

              They bring in so many opportunities for Magnifico to be sympathetic and act as a foil for Asha; he’s jaded, she’s not. He’s overly cautious (even paranoid), she’s a risk-taker. He turns to power/magic at his lowest point, Asha turns to her friends at her lowest point. Because this dichotomy isn’t present, and Magnifico—who should be redeemable—isn’t, the film is so much weaker than it could’ve been. The lack of a strong core dynamic between the protagonist and antagonist echoes through every facet of the film from the music to the characterization to the pacing, and I believe if Magnifico had been more consistent, the film would’ve greatly improved across the board.

I mean, come on! Imagine if at the end of the film, Asha—who, if you remember, did resonate with Magnifico’s values at the start of the film—recognizes that he's twisted his original ideals and urges him to see the value in the people he’s helped, in their ingenuity, in their gratitude, & that what he was able to do before was enough. Going further, asking what his wish is or was—likely something he’s never been asked— and showing empathy! We’d come full circle to the start of the film where Asha asks him to grant her wish.

Pushing that further, if Magnifico’s wish is to see Rosas flourish or to be a good/beloved king, he'd have the the opportunity to see the value in failing and how pursuing the dream is its own complex and valuable journey, and how not even he is perfect.

 The curse and the book (which, for the purposes of this adjustment, would need to be established as representing the idea of stepping on others to further your own goals/the fast way to success), then serve as the final antagonist, that same curse taking root in the people of Rosas who’ve had their dreams destroyed, and Asha works with the community to quell it. Asha’s learned her lesson, so has Magnifico, and the true source of evil in the film—the book—is handled independently. Magnifico steps back from his role as King, Amaya still ends up as Queen, and Asha takes her place as the new wish-granter.

This route could even give us the true “Disney villain” everyone’s craving; giving the book sentience and having it lure Magnifico in during “This is the Thanks I Get!?” leaves it as its own chaotic evil entity.

All in all, Magnifico's introduction paved a road to redemption that the rest of the film aggressively refused to deliver on, instead doubling down on weaker motivations that seem to appear out of thin air. Once the audience thinks, hey, that bad guy might have a point, the protagonist has to do a little more heavy lifting to convince us they're wrong.

Look at the big-bad-greats from Disney's library. There isn't a point in the Lion King where we pause and think, "Wait a second, maybe Scar should be the guy who rules the Pridelands." Ursula from the Little Mermaid, though motivated by her banishment from King Triton's Seas, never seems to be the right gal for the throne. Maybe Maleficent doesn't get invited to the princess's birthday party, but we don't watch her curse a baby and think, Yeah, go curse that baby, that's a reasonable response to getting left out.

What do they all have in common? Their motivation is simple, their goal is clear, and they don't care who they hurt in pursuit of what they want.

Magnifico simply doesn't fall into that category. He's motivated by the idea of losing power, which is never a clear or impactful threat. His goal at the start seems to be to protect Rosas, then it turns into protecting his own power, and then-- once he's corrupted-- he wants to capture Star. The problem is, there's no objective to put this power toward. Power for power's sake is useless. Scar craves power because he feels robbed of status. Ursula believes the throne is rightfully hers. Maleficent wanted to make a statement. Magnifico... well, I'm not really sure.

[thewadapan]

So why did Transformers One bomb?

Look, I'm just going to say it right off the bat: no, Transformers One is not the best Transformers movie of all time. I am (gritting my teeth) very happy for every single Transformers fan except me, who all seem to have liked it, and most of whom seem to have loved it. I agree that, as a production, it meets some baseline level of technical competence. It's a perfectly fine movie.

It's also the worst-performing Transformers movie Paramount has ever made.

Hopefully, now that its theatrical run has unceremoniously ended, people aren't going to try to rip me to shreds for theoretically threatening this multi-million-dollar film's box office revenue some miniscule amount by sharing a few teensy weensy complaints with my fifty followers.

Because I do just have a few little nitpicks, which I've tried my best to communicate, over the next 17,000 words of this post.

If you're not a Transformers fan, sorry, this essay is mostly written with the assumption that you've seen Transformers One. However, it might still be of some interest as a window into the current state of the franchise. I've written a basic plot summary of the movie to bring you up to speed, in that case. Because Transformers One purports to be the perfect introduction to the story, no homework needed, I've also done you the courtesy of elucidating background context as needed—think of this less as a review, and more as a history lesson, or maybe a "lore explained" YouTube video. After all, that's pretty much all that Transformers One is.

(And if farcically long posts aren't really your thing, you might prefer to listen to the special episode of Our Worlds are in Danger where my pals and I chatted about the film. Many of the hottest takes and silliest bits in this essay are shamelessly stolen from Jo and Umar.)

We've been waiting for Transformers One for a very long time. It's the first animated Transformers film to get a theatrical release since The Transformers: The Movie came out in 1986. It first entered development around a decade ago. Many fandom members I know online got to see it as far back as June. Its US premiere was in September; those of us in the UK had to wait a full extra month before seeing it, for no clear reason. This is a film which purports to show, in broad strokes, for the first time on the big screen, the origin of the Transformers: where they come from, who they are, and why they're fighting.

By the end of its runtime, Transformers One does not actually answer these questions. Don't get me wrong, it takes great pains trying to answer a lot of different, related questions—just ones which nobody was really asking in the first place: What does the word "Autobots" mean, if not "automobile robots"? What does the word "Decepticons" mean, if they're not actually deceitful? Why is he called "Optimus Prime"? Why is he called "Megatron"? If they were friends, why did they fall out? Why does Starscream sound Like That? Where does Energon come from? If "Prime" is a title, what were the other Primes like? How do Transformers transform?

Writer Eric Pearson, coming onto the project as an outsider to Transformers, describes having to go to Hasbro to ask these kinds of questions:

they had a script that outlined the story that they wanted to tell. I knew Optimus Prime and Megatron and I knew Bumblebee as well, or B. I had to ask about some of the other deeper ones, the mythology, “what exactly is the Matrix of Leadership?” Stuff like that.

See, Hasbro does in fact have the answers written down somewhere. The story as I understand it goes something like this. During the wild west of the '80s and '90s, Transformers "canon" was largely a by-the-seat-of-your-pants consensus-based affair between the freelance writers and copywriters the toy company would bring on to advertise their toys. That changed around the turn of the millennium, when late later-CEO Brian Goldner saw how Hasbro's licensed IP lines (such as Star Wars) were more financially successful and realised they could make more money by aggressively promoting their own in-house IP, which they didn't have to pay licensing fees for. (For the curious, a similar thought process at rival toy company Lego was what led to their creation of BIONICLE.)

The guy basically singlehandedly managing the Transformers brand at the time, Aaron Archer, eventually set to reconciling all the self-contradictory lore surrounding Transformers, an endeavour which dovetailed into the creation of the HasLab internal think-tank (best known for Battleship, the 2012 store-brand Michael Bay knockoff which was a failure critically and commercially but not in my heart) and ultimately the creation of the so-called "Binder of Revelation", an internal story bible which cost over $250,000 to produce and has strongly influenced nigh on every piece of Transformers media released since, but which we hadn't actually seen until it got leaked a week ago. As it turns out, the document itself (compiled mostly by marketers and toy designers) is patently useless to any writer: it's a typo-ridden internally-inconsistent wishy-washy mess that mostly describes the characters in terms of a made-up form of Transformers astrology that has otherwise never seen the light of day.

So although the Binder is the baseline story bible for most modern Transformers media, its influence isn't direct per se; it's more accurate to describe it as being an elaborate game of telephone between high-profile cartoons, comics, and other internal documents, with the Binder itself apparently just sitting in a drawer somewhere at Hasbro; Eric Pearson says that he never received a "binder", with the "script" he mentions either being the earlier draft from Andrew Barrer and Gabriel Ferrari (the guys who originally pitched the story), or some other unseen internal document. Director Josh Cooley, however, definitely seems to have been physically handed the Binder or its mass-market adaptation:

I knew that there was a lot of origin to be told, and when I first started, [Hasbro] gave me the Transformers Bible. I could not believe how big it was. I was like, "This is way more than I ever anticipated."

When trailers first dropped for Transformers One, a lot of my friends who are savvy were immediately like: "Oh, this is a weirdly faithful adaptation of the Binder of Revelation, huh."

I. The One True Origin of the Transformers

Half of the people reading this are Transformers fans, and half of you literally could not give less of a shit about Transformers, so if you're in the 'former group (so to speak), you'll just have to bear with me while I bring the rest of us up to speed.

Before the Transformers' civil war begins, Cybertron is being oppressed by the Quintessons. The Quintessons are a race of five-faced aliens (as in, not Transformers), who execute everyone they come across, first introduced in The Transformers: The Movie, presiding over a kangaroo court on a castaway world. In the followup cartoon five-parter "Five Faces of Darkness", writer Flint Dille established that, gasp, they were actually the original creators of the Transformers! But basically nobody else at the time was particularly compelled by this idea, it seems, with most fans preferring the more mythological origin story conceived by Bri'ish writer Simon Furman for the Marvel comics. I think people kind of just didn't like to think of the Transformers as being robots—mass-produced, a fabrication, programmed—as opposed to an alien race of thinking, feeling beings like us. But because the cartoon was important to many kids, a lot of early-2000s media tried to reconcile the cartoon and comic origin stories by stating that the Quintessons didn't actually create the Transformers; rather, they simply colonised the planet early in its history and pretended to be the Transformers' creators, until the truth came out and they got kicked offworld. This is how the Binder of Revelation ultimately paid lip service to the Quintessons. In Transformers One, the Quintessons are just sort of here, they're these evil aliens secretly skimming Energon from its miners, they don't speak English (or whichever language the film was dubbed into in your market region), they're just these nasty societal parasites.

Energon is Transformers fuel. In the original cartoon, it was these glowing pink cubes the Decepticons were always trying to produce using harebrained Saturday-morning-cartoon energy-stealing devices. There was a Cold War going on, America had just been through an "energy crisis", maybe you're old enough to remember any of that. Transformers are these big, complicated machines, so I guess the idea is they need this hyper-compressed superfuel to run off, and their homeworld has run out. By the time of the Binder of Revelation, the concept had been telephoned to the point where Energon is like the lifeblood of Primus or some shit.

Primus is the Transformers God—but not the kind of God you have "faith" in, rather this actual guy whose existence is objectively known in various ways. He transforms into a planet, that's kind of cool, right? Where does Primus come from? Look, it doesn't matter, he's like, the God of Creation, he was there at the start of time. He created all of the Transformers. All the other species in the galaxy, though, they evolved naturally thanks to "science". Actually wait, didn't that Quintus Prime guy go around the universe seeding all the planets with different kinds of Cybertronian life? That's why they're called Quintessons. See, now you know. Who's Quintus Prime?

Okay, so the Thirteen Original Transformers, or the Primes, are the thirteen original Transformers created by Primus. Most of them correspond to different kinds of Transformer: Nexus Prime is the god of Transformers who can combine, Onyx Prime is the god of Transformers who turn into animals, Micronus Prime is the god of Transformers who are small, and Solus Prime is the god of Transformers who are women. You might remember the Primes from Revenge of the Fallen, although there were only seven of them there for whatever reason.

Honestly, The Fallen was the only one who mattered for a long time. The whole reason there's thirteen of them is because thirteen is kind of an unlucky number, right? Twelve would've been fine. But throw in a thirteenth guy, and he betrays everyone, he's this fucked up evil guy. In the Binder of Revelation, though, the Thirteenth Prime is his own special guy shrouded in mystery, because they kind of liked the idea that Optimus Prime would secretly turn out to have been the Thirteenth Prime all along, and he just forgot or something, because that means he has the divine right of Primes. In IDW's 2010s comic-book reboot, the Thirteenth Prime was called "The Arisen"—in reference to that one line in The Transformers: The Movie, "Arise, Rodimus Prime!" (this margin is too narrow to explain who Rodimus Prime is). Towards the end of his run, writer John Barber did some actually interesting stuff with the concept, playing with the ambiguity over whether-or-not Optimus Prime was actually the chosen one.

All of Optimus Prime's immediate predecessors as Autobot leaders, Sentinel Prime, Zeta Prime, the lineage seen in "Five Faces of Darkness"... they're all false Primes. They're Primes in name only. In fact, IDW had a whole procession of these cartoonishly evil dictators thanks to a few continuity errors leading to the addition of a couple of extra narratively-redundant fuckers. Transformers One tries to simplify it slightly by just saying that Zeta Prime was one of the Primes for real—occupying that thirteenth "free space"—and it was just Sentinel Prime who was only a normal Transformer pretending to be a Prime, then Optimus Prime who's a real boy.

But if he's not a Prime from the start, Optimus Prime needs another name in the meantime. In the '80s cartoon episode "War Dawn", before he was called Optimus Prime, he was called "Orion Pax". Have you noticed that Optimus Prime is kind of an odd-one-out amongst all the straightup-English-word names like "Bumblebee" and "Ratchet" and "Jazz"? That's because his name was one of a tiny handful from very early in the franchise's development, before writer Bob Budiansky came onboard and came up with identities for the vast majority of the toys. Practically everyone Bob Budiansky named is called like, "Bolts" or some shit, long before the characters even know of Earth, which has always just been a contrivance of the setting you're not supposed to think about.

Presumably to create a parallel with Orion Pax's transformation into Optimus Prime, someone at Hasbro in the 2010s came up with a new name for the bot who would become Megatron: "D-16". In real-world terms, this was nothing more than a dorky reference to the Megatron toy's original Japanese release being number 16 in the line ("D" stands for "Destron", which is what they call Decepticons in Japan). But in-universe, the name "D-16" was drawn from the sector of the mine where he worked. I don't get the impression it was originally intended to be part of a broader pattern.

Which is why I'm baffled as to what the hell the reasoning was behind Bumblebee's pre-Earth name, "B-127". There's this bizarre situation in the Bumblebee film, where the name "B-127" first cropped up, where literally every other bot gets a normal cool name with personality like "Cliffjumper" or "Dropkick" except for Bumblebee, who is stuck with this clunky sci-fi name until he makes friends with a human teenager on Earth and she gives him the name Bumblebee. I guess I don't find it confusing that the writers would (correctly) realise it's a bit weird for Bumblebee to be called Bumblebee on an alien planet where bumblebees don't exist. What I find confusing is that they didn't extend that logic to any other character.

So despite everything else in the franchise's direction pointing away from "robot" and towards "alien", Transformers One ends up with this ridiculous situation where two of the most important guys are, for practically the whole movie, simply referred to as "Dee" and "Bee", I guess because the writers correctly realised the numbers sound fucking stupid.

And if you squint, "Elita-1" sorta fits this naming scheme. But the great irony of it is that the very same cartoon episode which coined "Orion Pax" simultaneously established that Elita-1 also used to go by a different name: "Ariel"! Like the Little Mermaid. Y'know, because an "aerial" is a type of electrical component- oh, forget it.

By the time the script made it into Eric Pearson's hands, it's obvious that he simply was not thinking about it that deeply. He describes the genesis of a scene where Bumblebee introduces his imaginary friends, "A-atron, EP 5-0-8, and Steve." A-atron was impov'd by Keegan-Michael Key as a reference to one of his own skits on Key & Peele. Steve ("He's foreign.") was literally just because Pearson thought it would be funny. It's true that Steve is an inherently funny name, and I guess if you're struggling to come up with jokes of your own, it can be handy to fall back on something which is inherently funny.

And again, our silly answers to these silly questions beget yet more questions. If he started out as "D-16", then where did the name "Megatron" come from? And if all the Primes have epic made-up fantasy names, then surely that one guy can't just be called "The Fallen", right? That's not a name, that's an epithet. Unfortunately, someone at Hasbro had the bright idea to answer both these questions at once: The Fallen's real name was "Megatronus". Later, for consistency, they threw on the title, and we get "Megatronus Prime", which sounds like what a thirteen-year-old on deviantART in 2014 would call their Steven Universe fusion of Megatron and Optimus Prime. So you see, Megatron actually named himself after Megatronus Prime, famously the most evil of the Primes. In Transformers One, this is changed slightly so Megatronus is merely the strongest of the Primes, as part of its overall effort to make Megatron not look completely insane.

Which, it must be said, is a tall order. Better stories have tried and failed. Back in 2007, Scottish writer Eric Holmes came up with Megatron Origin, a perfectly-fine comic miniseries which drew heavily from the miners' strikes that took place in the UK from 1984-1985, coinciding with the inception of the Transformers franchise. In that comic, Megatron is a lowly miner who, through a series of chance events, winds up at the head of a dangerous political revolutionary movement.

For some reason—I guess because nobody had ever tried to make Megatron anything other than a bloodthirsty cackling madman before—this take on Megatron as a guy who rose up against a corrupt system became the defining interpretation of the character, copy/pasted pretty much wholesale into the Binder of Revelation. Orion Pax also opposes the system, and bonds with Megatron over it, but they disagree on how to fix it: Pax believes in peaceful reform, Megatron just loves to kill. In Transformers One, the problem everyone has with Megatron is basically "whoa, this guy's a little TOO angry!" and there's a point towards the end of the film where Megatron suddenly starts jonesing to kill literally anyone who stands in his way, because he's irrationally angry.

The core problem here—and it's kind of the Magneto problem, the Killmonger problem, whatever better-known example you care to insert here—is that these guys all fundamentally exist just to be a big villain who loves to kill people and who ultimately gets defeated, but the kids who grew up on this stuff in the '80s are now adults who are no longer satisfied with cardboard cutout villains. People like a complex villain, they like a villain who has a point. They like to root for both sides. And in fact, it's easier to sell more toys to people who are rooting for both sides, if your villain is just another kind of hero. But you don't really need to take the same effort with the good guys: they're good by design, righteous by nature. They don't need to stand for something, they just need to stand against the guy whose whole thing is that he loves to kill people.

But again, we're starting from a place where the evil faction—who half the planet will ultimately align themselves with—are literally called "Decepticons". It's a name you'd only ever call yourself ironically, maybe reclaiming it from your enemies. In this film, there's some tortured logic that implies they're called Decepticons because they were deceived by Sentinel Prime. Like if you met a gang of guys who call themselves "The Robbers", but it turns out to be because they got robbed one time, and they actually have zero intention of stealing from anyone.

The Autobots are easier, of course. "Auto" is a prefix that just means, like, the self, or whatever. And the most agreeably American ideal of all is selfishness the power of the individual, the freedom to seize one's own destiny. Prime's original '80s motto, "Freedom is the right of all sentient beings," is bastardised in Transformers One into the slightly less rolls-out-off-the-tongue "Freedom and autonomy are the rights of all sentient beings," because (I can only assume) they forgot to work the word "autonomy" earlier into the script. If they ever greenlit Transformers Three, I suppose the motto would have ended up as something like "Freedom, autonomy, ruthless efficiency, and an almost fanatical devotion to the Pope are the rights of all sentient beings." Even though bodily autonomy is one of the most salient motifs present in the film—all but referred to by name—I suppose the filmmakers were worried that you might think, when Prime says "freedom", that he actually means something completely different. So now you see! "Autobots" is actually the descriptive name of a political movement which believes in obviously good things. Like "Moms for Liberty".

Okay, so the cannier among you have probably spotted the mean rhetorical trick I'm pulling with this encyclopedia-entry-ass introduction. By sarcastically relitigating all the storytelling choices I dislike from the last 20 years of Transformers lore, I can build up a negative association with Transformers One without even reviewing the movie itself! On a subtextual level, I'm deliberately misattributing these bad ideas to the filmmakers, conveniently ignoring the mountains of evidence to suggest that they were just trying to make the best of whatever Hasbro handed them from on high. If anything—you might think—the filmmakers deserve even more credit, for spinning this shite into something even remotely good on the big screen.

Like, you'd be wrong, but I can see why you might think that.

II. The Spider-Verse of Transformers

Okay, I can see that I've spat in your soup. I'm sorry. There are lots of good bits in Transformers One. I can even think of one or two of them off the top of my head, without really racking my brains.

Maybe halfway through the film, there is one specific moment where the story suddenly promises to get good. You can pinpoint it down to the word, down to the frame even. Our heroes have just discovered that their planet's leader, Sentinel Prime, is a complete fraud who's been secretly exploiting them ever since they were born—and worse, castrated them by removing their transformation cogs. They are all very cross about this. Orion Pax expresses that he wants to come up with a plan to expose Sentinel Prime. Megatron is too angry to listen. Orion Pax asks, "Don't you want to stop him?" And Megatron replies, "No, I want to KILL him!" And there's like, a little tint of red creeping into the glow of his eyes.

Whoa. Chills. Up to this point in the film, Megatron has been kind of surly at times, but he's otherwise a generic kids' movie protagonist. He's often chipper. He makes quips. He has this banter with Orion Pax where he's always complaining. It's literally that one "Optimist Prime"/"Negatron" comic, committed to film. Like I'm not even being facetious, one of the film's few obligatory "emotional moments" has Elita-1 sit Orion Pax down and say, "You know what I love about you? You always see the bright side. Like you're some kind of OPTIMIST or something." And then later completely unrelatedly God gives him the mandate of heaven and says "ARISE, OPTIMUS PRIME!" Y'see, as originally conceived, "Optimus" is the word "Optimum" if it was a name, which is why people sometimes localise his name as "Best #1". But it's genuinely kind of cute to reverse-engineer the etymology as coming from "optimist", I guess. Like, it's stupid, but it's cute.

Argh, I got distracted with naming minutia again! Entirely my bad. That's the last time, I promise. Where was I? Right, we'd just found out that Megatron is kind of scary. Brian Tyree Henry's line delivery as he growls "KILL" is his crowning achievement in this film.

Where Optimus Prime's character arc in this movie sees him change from a funny, rebellious spirit to a complete personality vacuum, Megatron's character arc is kind of the opposite. When we're first introduced to him, it's weirdly hard to get a handle on who he is. He's a fanboy for Megatronus, the strongest and most morally-unremarkable of the Primes. He looks up to Sentinel Prime. He likes sports. He doesn't like breaking the rules. In fact, we get the sense that, were it not for his friendship with Orion Pax, he would be literally indistinguishable from the legion of silent crowd-filling background characters he works with. But the moment he starts to become Megatron, it's like everything starts to click. Gears catch, where once they ground and idled. There is something in this guy that was made to fight, made to kill, made to rule. It's sick.

And the underlying tension in his friendship with Optimus suddenly snaps into focus. Megatron is mad at Sentinel Prime, but Sentinel Prime isn't there, he's somewhere else, far below... and he can't help but turn that anger on the next closest thing to an authority figure he has in his life, which is his peer-pressuring bestie, Orion Pax. There is a part of Megatron that wishes he'd never learned the truth, and he blames Orion Pax for his cursed knowledge, for constantly leading them into predicaments on his stupid flights of fancy. Now that he knows, he can't go back to how he was. He can't stop thinking about it.

I'll be honest, it rules. Obviously it rules. It's complicated and toxic and darker than this movie was marketed to be. In interview, Josh Cooley describes the draft of the script he was presented with when he joined the project as having been far more jokey, light-hearted, glib—and it seems we can credit him for saying "Look, this ain't right, the minute the credits roll these guys are going to be at civil war for millions of years."

So, they started talking about it in — what did you say, 2015? I came on board in 2020, and when I came on board there was the first draft of the script. So I don't think they'd been working on it that entire time, but they'd been thinking about it, for sure. And the script that I read was a little more comical? But it was clear that that wasn't the right tone for this film specifically, because we know there's gonna be a war, civil war on Cybertron, you can't have everybody making jokes and then all of a sudden there's a war. So, um, the stakes were really important for this film. And because our characters at the beginning are a little naive, and just on the younger side, not as experienced, it allowed more freedom for them to be a little looser and have fun really getting to know these characters. But once they realize something's going on and things are getting real, it needs to get real.

Cooley also describes his "in" on the film as being the brotherly relationship between Optimus Prime and Megatron (they're not literally brothers in this film, though they have been in the past), which perhaps explains why Megatron and Optimus Prime get to be characters, instead of just like, guys who are there.

That was always the goal from the beginning and what got me on board. It was this relationship between these two characters that was very human and brotherly. I thought about my relationship with my brother and how I could bring that in. It’s not like we’re enemies, but we grew up together and then went down our different paths, but we’re still brotherly. I became a writer-director and live in a fantasy land, and he became a homicide detective who deals with reality, so we’re two very different mindsets. I have always been fascinated by the idea of two people who come from the same place but end up in different ones. From the very beginning, I was like, ‘That’s something I can relate to.’

Anyway, things I liked, what else. There's that joke at the very start, after the excruciating lore powerpoint, where Orion Pax does a fake-out like he's going to transform, the music briefly swells, and then it just cuts to him legging it down the corridor. In a similar vein, I liked the idea behind the Iacon 5000, where Orion Pax has them run in the race. I felt like the execution of the race left a bit to be desired—the only other participant who matters is Darkwing—but it's still honestly the best big action setpiece in the film. There's also that bit at the end where Megatron and Optimus Prime are both changing into their final forms simultaneously, and it's basically a Homestuck Flash (what would that be, "[S] OPTIMUS PRIME. ARISE."?), so obviously I liked that. Oh, and I really liked the environment design where the planet's landscape is constantly transforming, that's brand-new, someone had an Idea there, and it creates visual interest during the initial Energon-mining scene... even if I wished it had actually paid off in a more meaningful way than "the planet's crust opens as Prime falls to get the Matrix"—like, someone really should've gotten eaten by the planet, that's a cracking Disney death scene and they left it on the table! I also liked getting to see my blorbo, Vector Prime, on the big screen.

I think, as a Transformers fan who's had to sit through a lot of really quite sexist, racist, and plain bad films, you're well within your rights to come out of this one ready to give it a fucking Oscar. You should be ecstatic! It has none of those pesky humans clogging up the frame. It has plenty of robot action. It has jokes which- well I struggle to call many of them "funny", but they're at least trying to be funny in a different way to Michael Bay's films. The film is obviously a massive love letter to... honestly every part of Transformers except the live-action movies. It is an incredibly faithful and earnest adaptation of all the lore and iconography that has randomly accumulated the way it has over the last forty years of bullshit.

My main point of contention, then, is with the overriding sentiment I'm seeing from pretty much everyone else in the fandom: that this is not just the best Transformers movie, but that it's a great animated movie period, that it does for Transformers what Into the Spider-Verse did for Spider-Man, what The Last Wish did for Puss in Boots, and what Mutant Mayhem did for Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. That, in effect, this film will make you "get it". That it's better-looking, better-written, and more meaningful than a silly toy commercial has any right to be.

I think you can definitely see some loose influence from Spider-Verse in the overall look of the film—particularly in its color grading, and in the design of its main setting, the underground city of Iacon, where the upside-down skyscrapers hanging from the ceiling evoke the iconic "falling upwards" shot from Spider-Verse. Like The Last Wish, it's an animated franchise film that spent much longer than you'd think in development, only for the release of Into the Spider-Verse to have an immediate impact on its visual style... without actually affecting the basic story to the same extent. Both Transformers One and The Last Wish, in many ways, feel like stories concocted using an older formula; in particular, Transformers One bears startling similarities to a similar toy-franchise-prequel, BIONICLE 2: Legends of Metru Nui, which was released twenty years ago! By contrast, Mutant Mayhem—which had a much shorter development period—is a direct reaction to Spider-Verse in both aesthetic and narrative, and it has a much more distinctive creative direction as a result.

If you look at how all these titles have performed in cinemas, I think you can make a pretty strong case that audiences are perfectly willing to go out and see this kind of flick. A glance at Wikipedia tells me that Mutant Mayhem, The Bad Guys, and The Last Wish grossed double, triple, and quadruple their budgets respectively. In terms of the pre-existing cultural cachet they were banking on, we're talking about Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, a children's book series I'd never heard of, and fucking Puss in Boots. You cannot tell me that Transformers, as a brand, is on the same level as any of these properties. Meanwhile, Transformers One hardly broke even, while The Wild Robot—another DreamWorks film based on a children's book I've never heard of, which it ended up competing with in theatres—grosses three times its budget. My friends who've seen The Wild Robot say it made them cry.

Face it: Transformers One has not lit the world on fire. I've seen a lot of people cope with this by suggesting that it's to do with the film's staggered release, or even by claiming that the film's marketing was somehow misleading. I'll be honest, upon seeing it, it did not strike me as being at all dissimilar to the trailers. You can maybe say that the trailers undersold the depth of Orion Pax's and Megatron's relationship—which is its best aspect—but honestly, I think if they'd taken a lot of those scenes out of context and put them in early teasers, audiences would've laughed it out of theatres. Like, c'mon, it's toy robots, stop pretending it's Shakespeare. And otherwise, what you see is what you get; it's exactly what it says on the tin.

I wonder how many Transformers fans, on some level, have noticed that even when we're supposedly "eating good", and watching "peak cinema", our films just aren't as good as everyone else's. They're something you'll enjoy if you're already highly predisposed to enjoy them. But otherwise, they're not turning heads. They're not as funny, or as heartfelt, or as complex, or as exciting, or as charming, or as memorable, or as beautiful as these other films. Unlike with Spider-Verse, there's no word-of-mouth amongst normal people to say that this is a film worth seeing.

What I perceive in studios hoping to recreate the flash-in-the-pan success of Spider-Verse is a misunderstanding of what made people go crazy for that movie in the first place. Yes, it changed our conception of what an 3D-animated film could look like. Yes, the multiverse is very cool and all that. Yes, it had a huge IP attached to it. But on a more fundamental level, that movie has a fantastic story underpinning it. The script is razor-sharp. The story is beautifully complex. The vision of New York City it presents is a living, breathing place, populated by real people. It has the kind of craft to it that can only come from truly obsessive creators cultivating an absolutely miserable professional environment for a legion of passionate animators.

In interview, Transformers producer Lorenzo di Bonaventura actually spoke surprisingly candidly about his view on crunch:

I probably shouldn't answer this question, because I'm not exactly PC on my answer. I think the nature of filmmaking is, we're really lucky to work in a business that's about passion. Passion doesn't fit really well into a timeline, so inevitably you come to a crunch time. It's just true in the live action, it's true in every movie, and authors always tell me that about when they're writing their books — it's the same thing happens to them! There's something about the creative process that's not — it's unruly. So, I think if you're enjoying it, you need to recognize that. Like, you know, I don't wanna abuse anybody, and y'know — if you get into that period where people have to really work too hard, you gotta help them in that situation, then. 'Cause it's gonna come. It does on every movie. I've never seen it not come, no matter how well you plan, et cetera. 'Cause it's not a science what we're doing at all, and there's all these discoveries that happen near the end, which makes you go "oh, let's do some more, come on!". We discovered that on this movie, where we're calling ILM going "we've got a few ideas, you know, do you have enough man-hours?". [...] Like, you gotta be conscious of it — in live-action, for instance, there are some studios that are so cheap that when you're on — sort of medium location-distance and you're shooting 'til midnight, they don't pay for a hotel room. It's like, well, no-no-no, you pay for a hotel room. You protect the people.

According to everyone who worked on Transformers One, everyone who worked on Transformers One was very passionate about it. But there are parts of this film where I think you can say, pretty objectively, that it's falling short of its intended effect. So I guess maybe they weren't that passionate. I'm not saying that to be mean! It's just... isn't that better than the alternative—that this was the best they could do?

III. I did not care for The Godfather

At one point in the film, the gang's magic map leads them to a scary cave, which looks like this:

Bumblebee fills the dead air by saying, "A cave, with teeth. Nothing scary about that!" The joke here is that this is a cave that looks like a mouth. But as depicted, it's a cave that looks like a mouth that doesn't look like a cave! I get that this is an alien planet, but stalactites don't grow that way on Earth, so when you see the cave onscreen, your gut reaction isn't "oh my, what a frightening cave!". No, this is a cave that makes you say, "that's not a cave, that's some kind of alien monster".

(It's not like "cave turns out to be a monster" would in any way be a fresh twist. In BIONICLE 2: Legends of Metru Nui, there's a bit where a character swims into a scary cave, and it turns out to be the mouth of a massive sea serpent. In The Empire Strikes Back, the Millennium Falcon briefly hides in an asteroid tunnel which turns out to be a giant space worm. So I'm definitely not saying Transformers One would've been a better film if it had used this stock trope.)

Then once the heroes go inside, we're whisked off to an entirely different set of concept artwork, for this lush organic underground paradise. There's no danger there. The cave itself is reduced to a strange little footnote. Maybe it's only in the story because a concept artist drew it before they'd worked out the finer points of the narrative, and Keegan-Michael Key just ended up ad-libbing the "teeth!" line when he was told to vamp for a few seconds. Or maybe the teeth gag was fully written into the script from the start, and the environment artists just interpreted it way too literally.

Like, I'm sorry, I don't mean to start off on the wrong foot here by harping on about the cave thing—it's not a perfect example anyway—but to me it's a microcosm for my frustration towards what I perceive to be a lack of creative vision in this film. So much of the film feels like it's not there to be entertaining, or meaningful, or narratively load-bearing... it's just obligatory, something they threw in for the sake of having anything at all. It's colors and sounds. When you see the spiky shape onscreen, you think, "ooh, this film was pretty bouba earlier, but now it's more kiki!" They get the comedian to improvise a few one-liners while the characters walk from place to place. And it's like, yes, this is a film for children. Of course the heroes have an adventure map with a big red X on it. In many respects this is a glorified episode of Pocoyo, or the modern equivalent, which I guess is "Baby Shark | Animal Songs For Children".

Nowhere is this sense of "we are obliged to put this in the movie" felt more strongly than in its supporting cast. When you look closely, you notice that Bumblebee and Elita-1—placed prominently in the film's marketing and being technically present for much of its runtime—don't actually do anything of narrative significance. They don't make choices that impact the story; they're just there, and it would not take much rewriting to excise them entirely, so it's just Orion Pax and Megatron on their little adventure. In fact, I'll just come out and say it: I think Transformers One would have been a better movie if Bumblebee and Elita-1 were not in it.

It helps that, from a Doylist perspective, the motivations for their inclusion are perfectly transparent. Firstly, think of the merchandise! Secondly, in Bumblebee's case, it's fucking Bumblebee, he's the whole reason half the kids will be watching, you can't not have him in there. Whenever Bumblebee's not onscreen, all the other characters should be asking, "where's Bumblebee?" Also, I think the creative team felt that they could use Bumblebee tactically to balance some of the darkness in the story.

In the G1 cartoon, Bumblebee just has the default Autobot personality—good-natured, a little sarcastic—with the dial turned a little more towards friendliness. There's this iconic anecdote from the production that cartoon, where writer David Wise found himself in exactly the same situation Transformers writers are finding themselves in forty years later: he was told to write a story about something called "Vector Sigma", and he had no fucking clue what Vector Sigma was supposed to be. So he asked story editor Bryce Malek, who also had no fucking idea. Malek in turn asked Hasbro, and was told that Vector Sigma was "the computer that gave all the Transformers personalities". Upon hearing this, Malek said, "Well, it didn't do a very good job, did it!" Vector Sigma, in case you missed it, does actually appear in Transformers One, as the polygonal shape that transitions into the Matrix of Leadership in the opening powerpoint; I guess they're one and the same now. Some things never change: in Michael Bay's Transformers movies, there is again just a single default personality that every single Autobot shares, a braggadacious action-hero facade over genuine bloodthirst. Who can forget that iconic moment in Revenge of the Fallen where Bumblebee rips out Ravage's spine in grisly slow-mo?

Aside from the fact that he's small and yellow, Bumblebee in Transformers One bears very little resemblance to any incarnation of the character kids might be accustomed to. Instead, he occupies a stock comic-relief archetype, he's a zany guy who goes "Well, that just happened!" If anything, his one joke in the third act—wanton murder—reads like it could maybe be a reference to his many Mortal Kombat fatalities in Bay's films. Beginning in 2007's Transformers Animated, Bumblebee has sometimes possessed deployable "stingers" that flip out from his hands, as a fun action feature for toys. Clearly someone on Transformers One saw this and thought it was the funniest fucking thing that Bumblebee has "knife hands", because the character spends the third act of the movie just shouting "knife hands!" and cutting people in half like a medieval terror.

(In the UK, Bumblebee's lines were re-recorded at the last minute so he says "sword hands" instead. This is because in the UK, we generally aren't able to kill each other using guns, so it's knives that are the big armed-violence boogeyman. Everyone's always talking about how all the kids have knives. And look, I'm not someone to indulge in moral panic, but genuinely, when I look at Bumblebee chasing around people with knives, saying, "I'm gonna cut these guys, watch!", I'm like... what the fuck were they thinking when they wrote that?)

Frankly, whatever is going on with Bumblebee is just an entirely different movie to everything else that's happening. When Bee shanks his twelfth nameless lackey in a row, the movie's like, awww, you're sweet! But when Megatron tries to kill the one (1) evil dictator who's just fucking branded him, who's still lying to his face while his people continue to die to the guy's fuckin' honor guard, Optimus Prime is like, HELLO, HUMAN RESOURCES?

Bumblebee is solely here to be funny, but there's a point in the film where it needs to become a war story, and the best they can think to do with Bumblebee is to have him kill people but in like, a funny way.

As for Elita-1... look, to put it very bluntly, she is in this movie to be a woman. Transformers has had a long, long forty-year history of boys'-club exclusionism, if not outright misogyny, and each new series usually has a token female character, as a kind of fig-leaf for the fact that really, the only fucking thing Hasbro cares about is that the boys are buying the toys. Beginning in the 1986 movie, it was Arcee who got to be "the pink one" for many years of fiction—but not toys, y'see, when parents want to buy something for their beloved young lad, they don't buy "the pink one", no sir. In the 2010s, wow-cool-OC Windblade took over for a stint as leading lady, decked out in a commercially-non-threatening red color scheme. Recently, though, it's been Elita-1—Optimus Prime's girlfriend from the original '80s cartoon—who's been the go-to female character, and she's increasingly allowed to be pink.

There is a lot of love for these characters amongst creatives and fans alike, and especially in the last decade, female Transformers have been both more numerous and better-written than ever. Unfortunately Transformers One, which depicts Elita-1 as an arms-crossing career-obsessed buzzkill, whose arc sees her learn her place in deference to a less-competent man... well let's just say it struck me as a significant step back in this regard.

There's this great interview with Scarlett Johansson, voice of Elita-1, where she's trying to describe what makes her character interesting, and it's like she's drawing blood from a stone. She's like, "yeah, so Elita-1, I would say, she's on her own journey, because at the start of the film it's sort of like she's working at a big company, you know, and she wants to get a promotion, but then later on she learns that she can't, y'know, get a promotion". Look, it's not that Scarlett Johansson does a bad job—in fact, considering the material she's working with, she practically carries Elita-1 entirely on the back of her performance—it's just that I can't shake the impression that the filmmakers would rather pay Scarlett Johansson god knows how many thousands of dollars than try to think of a second actress that they know of.

As I've already complained, Transformers One has a pretty thin cast, but it effectively only has two other female characters who do anything. Airachnid is a secondary antagonist, Sentinel Prime's spymaster/enforcer, and it's clear that some concept artist really fucking popped off when designing her. She has eyes in the back of her head, and it's ten times creepier than that makes it sound. Her spiderlegs also create some visual interest during fight scenes. As a character, Airachnid has zero internality and is not interesting, but she is cool, so you'll get no complaints from me there.

The film's other other female character is Chromia, who wins the Iacon 5000 race at the last moment. She really comes out of nowhere to clinch it. It's funny, because the leaderboards show this one guy, Mirage, hovering near the top of the rankings for almost the whole sequence. And Chromia's character model really looks suspiciously like Mirage's. In fact, there's a different character who stands around in the background a couple of times who looks much more like Chromia. Funnily enough, that background character is even called Chromia in concept art! So if you connect the dots, it really seems that the "Chromia" who is the best racer on Cybertron was originally meant to be Mirage, a guy, until they switched the character's gender at the very last minute, and didn't bother changing the leaderboards to match.

There are two possible explanations for this. The first is that Mirage was the dark horse of Rise of the Beasts, and for some reason they felt like his depiction in Transformers One would've gotten in the way of their plans for the character somehow. It's plausible, I guess. The second, infinitely funnier option, is that at some point someone working on the movie realised that they only put two women in the film, scrambled to look through the feature to find a suitable character to gender-swap, only to discover to their horror that they'd forgotten to put in any characters whatsoever. Fuck it, the racer guy! He can be a girl. Diversity win, the fastest class traitor on Cybertron... is a woman!

In case you were wondering about the Transformers One toyline leaderboards, by my count, Orion Pax has ten new transforming toys currently announced or in stores, Bumblebee and Megatron have six each, Sentinel Prime has four, Alpha Trion has two, Elita-1 has two, Airachnid has one, Starscream has one, Wheeljack has one, and the Quintesson High Commander has one. In fact, one of Elita-1's toys—the collector-oriented high-quality Studio Series release—isn't scheduled for release until some undetermined point later next year, and she was entirely absent from leaked lists of upcoming releases, which to me smacks of "we realised last-minute that it would look really really bad if we didn't bother to release a good toy of the one woman in the film". Oh, and obviously, Chromia has no toys—but there is an "Iacon Race" three-pack consisting of Megatron, Orion Pax... and Mirage. Go figure.

The thing is, all of the stuff I'm grousing about here is pretty much standard fare for kids' films targeted more at boys. Hell, even The Lego Movie—which is basically the gold standard of toy commercials—gave supporting protagonist Wyldstyle a pretty similar arc to the one Elita-1 gets here, which was probably the weakest element of that film. Evidently conscious of this, Lord & Miller redeemed themselves by devoting the entirety of The Lego Movie 2: The Second Part to deconstructing common narratives surrounding gender roles. I guess I just wish the young girls who presumably comprise some portion of Transformers One theatergoers could actually get anything out of Elita-1 as a character. Ah, what do I know, maybe it's still considered countercultural simply to depict a woman punching people.

Still, to give credit where it's due: Transformers One doesn't remotely touch the gender-essentialism prevalent in the Binder of Revelation, treating female Transformers no differently to their male counterparts in lore terms. Solus Prime is, it seems, just a Prime who happened to be a woman, rather than the mythological Eve after whom all women are patterned. There's a scene where our heroes are gifted the Transformation Cogs of the fallen Primes, and the Primes named thankfully bear no particular relation to the characters; in other words, Elita-1 isn't given Solus Prime's cog. As Alpha Trion puts it: "What defines a Transformer is not the cog in his chest, but the spark that resides in their core." Dude really remembered nonbinary people exist halfway through that sentence huh.

(Actually, the bigger mistake would've been with Megatron: if he was given Megatronus Prime's cog from the start, then this would've created the unfortunate implication that his descent into evil was only the result of Megatronus Prime's fucked up and evil cog, rather than a choice Megatron made of his own free will. The film instead has it the other way around: Megatron's radicalisation into a "might makes right" philosophy is what causes him to covet Megatronus Prime's transformation cog, to steal that power from Sentinel Prime, who stole the cogs of both Megatronus and Megatron in the first place. That's cool! This does create a bit of unfortunate narrative dissonance with Alpha Trion's words, alas, as it does seem like Megatronus Prime's cog really is more powerful than the others, because it gives both Sentinel Prime and Megatron a powerup.)

There's just something that I find so dreadfully mercenary about this movie's cast—honestly, everyone except Orion Pax, Megatron, and maybe Sentinel Prime. Take Darkwing, for example. Bro was clearly designed from the ground up to fill this stock character role of "bully who pushes our guys around and later gets his comeuppance". For a more interesting take on that exact same archetype, look no further than Todd Sureblade from Nimona, a bigoted knight who gets a whole damn character arc in the background, which directly complements that film's main themes.

Again, I'm not playing some kind of guessing game here, the authorial evidence is right there: Darkwing didn't even have a name until Hasbro designer Mark Maher was shown a picture of the character and asked, "If this was a Decepticon flyer, who would it be?" This is actually par for the course with ILM; most of their concept art is labelled with very basic descriptions, with the exact trademarks being picked in conjunction with Hasbro at a later point. Darkwing just stands out in Transformers One because he's the only recurring speaking character who's an OC in all but name (unless you count Bumblebee), he's the one guy who's been invented from scratch with total creative freedom, and he's boring as sin. It's like the filmmakers just couldn't conceive of a children's movie without that stock character—and they clearly had no idea what to do with him once they'd invented him, because he disappears entirely from the film at the start of the third act, when Orion Pax throws him into an arcade cabinet, which they have in the mines on Cybertron for some reason.

In a film with as painfully few named speaking characters as Transformers One, there's really no excuse for having this kind of one-dimensionality in their portrayals. Genuinely, I ask—who are Orion Pax and Megatron fighting to liberate? Jazz, one of the biggest personalities from the original G1 cartoon, who gets all of two boilerplate lines here? Cooley seems to think so:

As you’re designing them the background characters are almost like Lego pieces where you put different heads on different bodies just to fill in a crowd. But some of them would be brought forward and be painted specific colors so that it represents a character that I didn’t know was such a big deal. But there was stuff—like Jazz, for example, has a pretty big role. It was important to have a relationship with a character that we know gets to be saved.

To me, the idea that casual cinemagoers would be invested in any of the Transformers as characters is laughable. Michael Bay's characters are famous for being hateful non-entities. In terms of the films, Jazz is best remembered for dying at the end of the first one, seventeen years ago; he looks completely different here. The one breakout character in recent years—Mirage, as played by Pete Davidson in Rise of the Beasts—was, as I've already mentioned, written out so that the movie could reach its girl quota... not that he would've had any lines anyway.

And I just don't buy the idea that the complete dearth of compelling characterisation in this film is just an unfortunate side-effect of its clipped one-hour-thirty runtime—that, given even half an hour longer, the film would suddenly be crowded with rich portrayals of all your Transformers faves. Bumblebee and Elita-1, ostensibly two of the most important characters in the film, are not in this movie because the movie is interested in telling their stories. They are in this movie for the sake of being in this movie. It insists upon itself.

IV. No politics means no politics

In fact, putting aside merchandising considerations, Elita-1 and Bumblebee serve one very specific purpose in narrative terms. The trait Optimus Prime and Megatron have always had in common is that they are both leaders—and what is a leader, without anyone to lead? Without Bumblebee and Elita-1, you'd have this farcical situation where the only person Optimus Prime ever gets to boss around is Megatron, until the very end of the movie when God makes him king of all Cybertron. The High Guard, Starscream's gang of exiles, serve a similar narrative purpose for Megatron; they're a ready-made army who've just been sitting around waiting for him to show up and take charge.

Towards the end, the movie does actually take care to show both Orion Pax and Megatron rallying groups of Cybertronians: in Pax's case, he reveals the truth to his legion of interchangable miner friends, while Megatron riles up the High Guard mob. Again, there's a bit of that narrative sleight-of-hand, a bit of a thematic cop-out, where the question of "how do Optimus Prime and Megatron come to be leaders of their factions?" is answered only in the most literal possible interpretation. Yes, we technically see the exact chain of events that lead to this point—but both characters are portrayed as born leaders. We don't see them grow into the role, except physically. The moment Megatron decides he wants to rule, he's able to take charge. Likewise, Optimus Prime just gets divinely appointed by God. At a key point, Megatron loudly declares "I will never trust a so-called leader ever again", and the movie plays a fucking scare chord like this is supposed to be ominous. Like, oh no! Optimus Prime is a leader! And they're friends! Whatever will Megatron do when he finds out his friend, Optimus Prime, is a leader?

I don't think the movie has given any real thought to what a leader actually is. It seems to take a stance that power cannot be taken, i.e. through violent action, as Sentinel Prime and Megatron do. That one scene with Elita-1 suggests the most important trait for a leader to have, above and beyond any particular competency, is simply hope and optimism. What I just can't wrap my head around is the fact that the counterpoint the movie presents to Megatron, in the form of Orion Pax becoming Optimus Prime, does not support a belief in collective action or basic democracy—rather, it's a boring sword-in-the-stone divine-right-of-kings fantasy.

Except I do have a theory for why the film is like this. Let's look again at that interview with Eric Pearson, who came onboard in the "late middle" of production:

One of the first things that I did was a big pass on Sentinel Prime. I just felt like he was too obviously telegraphing his wickedness in previous versions, and I felt like, “No, he’s a carnival barker.” He’s got to be a big salesman. He’s a bullshitter, honestly is what he is.

(Honestly, if this is Sentinel after a "big pass" to make his villainy more of a twist, I shudder to think what the earlier drafts were like.)

Now, let's see how WIRED introduces their interview with Josh Cooley, titled "Transformers One Isn't as Silly as It Looks":

He liked the script, which traces how Optimus Prime (Chris Hemsworth) and Megatron (Brian Tyree Henry) went from friends to enemies. But as the world went into lockdown as Covid-19 spread, Cooley found his story changing, if only slightly. Trump was still in office when Cooley started working on the film, and he was having meetings with the producers and they’d “start these meetings off on Zoom just going, like, ‘Holy crap what is going on in this world?’” he says. Ultimately, the infighting they were seeing between Democrats and Republicans in the same family became an undercurrent in the film’s friends-to-enemies storyline, “because that’s what Transformers is.”

So it's like, oh, this is a 2016 election thing. This is just that one election that broke everyone's brains. Of course this movie about a made-up political struggle on an alien planet being developed from 2015-2020 wouldn't be like, hey, you know what might fix our society's problems, is if we had an election. Of course the main villain is a "big salesman" "bullshitter" who says things like "The truth is what I make it!". Wow, guys, your film is so-o-o politically-conscious, and very pretty.

The fantasy is more or less that Donald Trump's army of reactionaries is marching on Washington to seize power through violent means, and on the way he drops Joe Biden into the Grand Canyon, but just before Joe hits the ground a giant fucking bald eagle swoops in to catch him and squawks, "God finds you worthy! Arise, President Biden!"

In our escapist little morality play, our best friend slash allegorical dad gets made king of the planet, and we all get jobs in the government. As in, one of the funniest lines in the movie is straightup Bumblebee exulting, "This is the greatest day of my life. I get to work for the government!" When Prime met Bumblebee—an hour ago—the dude was talking to imaginary friends, and honestly the only fucking skill he's demonstrated since then is cold-blooded murder. We have this dissonance in the storytelling, where it's mostly a story about four friends going on an adventure (are they even friends? Most of them hate each other!), but it's also a founding-fathers political origin story, which means there comes a point where our hero just suddenly starts bossing his friends around in a deep voice, and they're like, "Yes, sir!" It creates this unhinged situation where the "good" faction on Cybertron is ruled by the biblical chosen one and his nepotism buddies.

Per that quote from WIRED (or are they just putting words in Cooley's mouth? I can't help but notice they don't give an exact quote!), the film is ultimately sympathetic to the bad guys (the Republicans, I guess). It deliberately suggests that there is really nothing that should divide the Autobots and the Decepticons: their political goals, it claims, are identical, and they only disagree on the means by which to achieve them. The Decepticons, who are angry and hateful, have simply been misled by a power-hungry liar with charisma—first Sentinel, then Megatron—and so the tragedy is that they are artificially pushed into conflict with their fellow men, when really they should be uniting to stand against their common enemy, the foreigner illuminati trying to steal Cybertron's wealth.

Now, I know I've just handed you a get-out-of-jail-free card. My political allegory here is chock full of holes. What, are Sentinel Prime and Megatron both Donald Trump? Get a grip. Obviously any real-world commentary in Transformers One was only intended in the loosest sense imaginable: things like, "people should be free to change into whatever they want!" I'm being unfair, I'm reading too much into it, this is a cartoon movie for children, and if I want politics, I should start reading some fucking books. Also, come to mention it, my whole argument about that cave earlier really didn't hold water, and- I know, alright? I know.

V. Place / Place, Cybertron

I'm not mad at this toy commercial because its politics don't quite align with mine. I'm not mad at it for having a boring-ass supporting cast. I'm not mad at it for reheating a bunch of half-baked lore I didn't care for from the early 2010s. I've actually spent a lot of time mad about Transformers media that I've thought was bad. There's Transformers: Armada, where the English translators are fully asleep at the wheel and render even the most basic cartoon plots incomprehensible though constant mistranslations. There's Transformers: Micromasters, where two white guys wrote a downtrodden race of tiny Cybertronians who greet each other like "Wattup, my micro!". There's the recent series of Transformers: EarthSpark, where there's an episode that I can only describe as "the Wonka Experience but it's an episode of a children's cartoon", with a plotline that mostly revolves around our child heroes straightup robbing a Onceler-looking businessman of his most valuable possession. There's Transformers: Age of Extinction, with that one scene, and also the rest of that movie. In fact, I would go so far as to say that most Transformers fiction is some combination of bad, offensive, and offensively bad.

So even though I've just spent thousands of words whinging and moaning about how I didn't like Transformers One, the truth is that I had a perfectly nice time at the cinema. I got to go see it with five of my pals who love Transformers just as much as I do, and we had a blast. It is easily in the top 50% of all Transformers fiction.

Unfortunately, for whatever reason, I guess I've always given a lot of thought to what Transformers looks like from the outside. Maybe it's that I'm compelled to spend so much time and money on it, that it somehow compels me to vomit up these kinds of essays, and all I want is to be able to make it make sense to anyone in my life. It would be so, so nice if I could just sit down in the cinema with a friend or family member for a couple of hours, and at the end of it, they'd be able to walk out and say, "Okay, I guess I see what you get out of it." Rise of the Beasts was kind of that movie for me, but Rise of the Beasts is also the seventh instalment in a blockbuster franchise. It kind of takes for granted everything about Transformers.

It doesn't answer, "what the fuck is a Transformer anyway?"

For many years now, fans have noticed a marked aversion to using the word "transform" as a verb, or even as a noun. Optimus Prime no longer says, "Autobots, transform and roll out!", he just says, "Roll out!". Transformers no longer transform, they "convert". In fact, Transformers are no longer Transformers at all: they are "Transformers bots", the italics here serving to distinguish a registered trademark. This is because the worms in suits at Hasbro are worried that, if they continue to use the word "transform" by its dictionary definition—that is, to change—then rival toy companies will be able to make the case that anything that transforms can legally be described as a Transformer. It will become a generic trademark, like Velcro, or Band-Aid, or Dumpster.

Yet in Transformers One, "Transformers" is not just the noun by which the characters are referred to—rather, it's used in a descriptive sense to specifically mean "Cybertronians who can transform"! Characters are constantly talking about whether they can or can't transform. Prime gets to say his catchphrase in full. It's a miracle. Not only that, characters even get to say the word "kill" instead of "defeat" or "destroy".

Transformers One has a level of unrestricted creative freedom not seen since the 1986 animated film. This is a film unconstrained by location shooting, or licensing deals, or uncooperative actors; through the magic of CGI, for every single frame of its one-hour-thirty runtime, the filmmakers can put literally whatever they want on the screen. They were given the assignment, "Make an animated prequel set on Cybertron telling the origin story of Optimus Prime and Megatron", handed an estimated $147 million and a blank page, and told to go nuts. Like those born with transformation cogs, Transformers One had the power to become anything it wanted to be.

The 1986 animated film took that carte blanche to do whatever the fuck it wanted, and basically singlehandedly defined the direction of the franchise ever since. On a lore level, in terms of tone, I would say that Transformers owes practically everything to The Transformers: The Movie. Cartoons, comics, films, and video games have adapted every single one of its scenes countless times over. I'm not necessarily saying that it's a good film, or even that it's a particularly original film—much of it is ripped off from Star Wars—just that it took the franchise somewhere it hadn't gone before. It was looking to the future. As in, literally, it was set in 2005, at the time two decades into the future.

What gets me down about Transformers One is that—like most major franchise media released since The Force Awakens—all it can do is think about the past. Swathes of it are devoted to painstakingly recreating or setting up the various bits of iconography which have arbitrarily come to define the franchise. Even when it appears to be taking things in a new direction, it's not long before it course-corrects back into familiar territory: Steve Buscemi invents a surprisingly fresh take on Starscream's voice, and then Megatron half-strangles him to death, saddling him with a post-produced rasp to emulate Chris Latta's iconic performance from forty years ago.

The very title of the film, Transformers One, is an allusion to the line, "Till all are one," which originates in The Transformers: The Movie. In an early script for that '80s feature, it was actually "Till all life sparks are one", referring to a literal metaphysical process in that draft whereby one Transformer's life force could be passed on to another, presumably with the belief that they would all eventually be merged into a single afterlife. In the finalized story, it's just this kind of mystical phrase vaguely evoking concepts of togetherness and unity.

Transformers One brushes up against the phrase a couple of times. Alpha Trion almost says it at one point, when passing on his dead siblings' transformation cogs: "They were one. You are one. All are one!" Whatever that means. Later, Orion Pax starts a chant amongst the miners: "Together as one!" And finally, at the very end of the movie, during his obligatory film-ending monologue, Optimus Prime again goes: "And now, we stand here together... as one." (Half of Cybertron has just been banished to the surface forever.) "[...] Here, all are truly... Autobots." (Again, half of Cybertron- Optimus, what the fuck are you talking about?) Regardless, this is inexplicably the one instance where the movie doesn't twist itself up into knots trying to nail the exact phrasing.

Actually, there is one other sideways reference like this I can think of. Early in the film, Orion Pax is chatting up Elita, and he remarks, "Feel like I have enough power in my to drill down and touch Primus himself." To which Elita replies, "You don't have the touch or the power." This is kind of a nonsensical retort unless you know that in the 1986 movie, one of the most iconic songs on the soundtrack was "The Touch" by Stan Bush, which had the chorus line: "You got the touch! You got the power!" It's a banger. Anyway, remember when I said Darkwing gets chucked through an arcade cabinet? Well, here's Cooley revealing why that arcade cabinet is in the film:

I actually wrote [that exchange between Orion Pax and Elita] because I love that song. [...] And we had this one version where D-16 and Orion were playing a video game, like a stand-up old arcade game—it was inspired to look like that, but a Cybertonian version of that. They’re playing that together like friends and the song, like the 8-bit song that’s playing is ["The Touch"]. But that scene got nixed. And so I wanted to work it in there somewhere. And I just felt like a natural place for it. But that was one where I’m like, "I just love that song and those lyrics and that’s Transformers to me so I want to get that in there."

(I've had to amend that quote to fill in the blanks where the article has redacted "spoilers" for the movie. Spoiler culture is an absolute pox, I swear. Can't have the audiences knowing about one (1) mid joke in advance—the movie barely has enough jokes to fill a "Transformers One Funny Moments" compilation as it is!)

This actually isn't the first time Hasbro has "nixed" a reference to "The Touch" in major Transformers media. In the Transformers: Cyberverse episode "The Alliance", a character references "The Touch" right before a training montage which is clearly supposed to have the track playing, except instead it's been replaced by a generic rock instrumental, presumably because they couldn't afford the license. And in Daniel Warren Johnson's Eisner-award-winning bestselling comic run, there's one panel where he clearly wanted to include the song's lyrics as a sound effect, but wasn't allowed, so the final sound effect famously reads "YOU KNOW THE SONG". But that's a random episode of a bargain-bin cartoon, and an indie-darling comic series—not a $147 million blockbuster. You really have to wonder if it came down to money, or if it was something else. God knows Transformers One would not actually be improved for having a chiptune remix of "The Touch" in it, anyway.

The most egregious misplaced bit of fanwank in the film isn't even in dialogue. In the 1986 film, there's this one iconic moment when Optimus Prime arrives at the besieged Autobot City, drives through a crowd of Decepticons in truck mode, then fires some afterburners, launching his cab up into the air, where he transforms mid-leap, drawing his blaster to shoot a couple of Decepticons before hitting the ground. It's a fantastic bit of original animation. It's the Akira slide of Transformers. And, surprise surprise, it crops up in Transformers One. In the climactic final fight, Orion Pax shows up to save Megatron, and he does the thing.

But the problem is... he's not in truck mode! The film just cuts to him standing there in the middle of some anonymous mooks, then he does a standing jump into the air, the movie momentarily goes into extreme slow-mo like he's doing a fucking quick-time event, then he shoots a couple of guys and drops to the ground. There's no momentum. It exists purely to create that simulacrum, to take the single most iconic frame from that bit of 1986 animation, and stretch that one frame into infinity. The context is discarded, irrelevant. All that matters is that brief moment of recognition: "I know what that iiis!" God knows Transformers One has precious little in the way of impactful fight animation of its own; the choreography is stiff and uninspired, while the shots themselves are nauseatingly cluttered. Often, the best it can do is pilfer from older, better stories.

"Did you clap at any of the new moments and memorable characters?" "Were there any?"

Look, I get it. Transformers One is a prequel. By definition, it can't change the future. It has to play with the characters that are already in the toybox. But I do think it had this really special opportunity: to show theatregoers where the Transformers come from. To show us Cybertron not as a distant star or a barren scrapyard, but as a living, thriving alien world, unlike Earth, something special and worth protecting in its own right. Something new and memorable. In Rise of the Beasts—probably the best Transformers movie by default—when Optimus Prime is at his lowest, he wants nothing more to return home... but home is something we've only ever seen as a cold dystopia, ruled by Decepticons. The version of Transformers One I had hoped to see was one that would have imbued Optimus' homesickness with greater meaning. I wanted to feel his loss, and to hope that one day the war will end, and Cybertron can be restored.

I think Transformers One sincerely tries to achieve this effect. The concept artists have clearly put a great deal of time and thought into Cybertron as an environment. When the artbook comes out, I'm keen to see how much stuff didn't make it into the finished film. You have to assume most of it got cut, because there's next to nothing left!

At the end of the film, battle lines are drawn, the civil war is about to start... but strangely, the movie's setting does not convey the sense that anything beautiful is being lost. Nobody is unwillingly turned to violence, innocence-lost; they're all too eager to get to killing, friggin' Bumblebee is gleeful about it. There's no beautiful, iconic landmark, which gets tragically destroyed, like in some kind of Transformers 9/11—"What have we done! Where will this war take us!". There's no part of Cybertron's natural ecological environment to be ruined by the war, because the surface world is already turbofucked by the Quintessons to begin with. No, rather, we have the total opposite: Optimus Prime finding the Matrix (which was just, like, hanging out in the core of Cybertron or whatever) actually restores Energon to the planet, removing the unnatural scarcity which was the entire impetus behind the film's dystopia. He made Cybertron great again. So again, Transformers One fails to answer one of the most fundamental questions one might expect of a Transformers prequel: "When did things on Cybertron get so bad?" The movie ends with the planet in better shape to how it started!

The big original idea that Transformers One has is that Cybertron, the planet itself, should be in a constant state of transformation. I've already talked about the beautiful shapeshifting landscapes, but it's also the moving buildings, the complicated mechanisms, the roads and rails that magically lay themselves between the vehicles and their destinations. I've already mentioned how odd I find it that none of these environmental transformations have any significance to the story; the closest it comes to some sort of payoff is when Orion Pax falls into the hole that makes you king.

What I find most perplexing are the deer. When the gang makes it to the surface, the idea is to show the natural beauty of the surface, which the cogless have been denied their whole lives. The mountains glisten as they move. Nebulae glow in the night sky. The surface is blanketed in organic (?) plantlife, like a watering can forgotten in a garden. And, most strikingly, there are deer: mechanical animals, just like those found on Earth, being hunted for sport by the evil Quintessons. When the cruisers near, their glowing horns turn red with alarm, and they prance around in fear.

I'm reminded of a brief gag from the third season of Transformers: Cyberverse—one of very few shows to have devoted any serious effort to Cybertronian worldbuilding—in the episode "Thunderhowl". Bumblebee and Chromia stumble across a "singlehorn" (read: unicorn), and when it senses danger, it neighs, transforms into a rocket, and blasts out of frame. And apart from being really cute and funny, it's like, oh, of course that's what animals are like on Cybertron! Everything on this planet transforms. Why not the animals?

For whatever reason, the deer in Transformers One are like the one thing that don't transform. Why the hell not? If Cyberverse could find the budget for its split-second sight gag, surely this blockbuster could, I don't know, have them turn into dirt bikes with antler-handlebars. That would've been something, right? If not, then at least could we maybe see some other animals on Cybertron, to really get across that alien biodiversity? Of course not. See, the deer exist to communicate one very specific story beat: a single moment of trepidation, where the heroes know there's danger nearby, but they don't know what. And all you need for that is a single kind of prey animal, with some kind of warning light to let you know, hey, there's danger! Once this purpose is fulfilled, the deer have no further significance to the story.

We need only look to BIONICLE 2: Legends of Metru Nui to see this exact same beat play out with a modicum of competence and creative flair. Also in the second act—in fact, at practically the exact same timestamp—our heroes, the Toa, have a run-in with the bad guys, and they're nearly captured... but then there's this sudden rumble of danger approaching, we don't know what. It turns out to be a herd of giant Kikanalo! They send the bad guys packing, except they nearly trample our heroes too! But then, Toa Nokama's mask begins to glow, and she discovers that her mask grants her the ability to talk to animals. They learn some vital information from the Kikanalo, and are able to ride the creatures for the next stage of their adventure. Finally, when they can go no further, the Kikanalo cave in the passage behind the heroes to ensure they won't be pursued. Holy shit, that's like, five different story beats with just that one type of creature!

It's not just that Transformers One struggles with that kind of basic narrative flow, where a single element serves multiple purposes. It's that often, it wastes precious time creating redundant setups to achieve the same effect twice.

For example, Megatronus Prime's face happens to look exactly like (what we know will be) the Decepticon insignia. At the beginning of the movie, Orion Pax mollifies Megatron by giving him a rare decal of Megatronus Prime's face. Traditionally, Megatron wears his insignia in the middle of his chest—but in this film, nearly every character has a big hole in the middle of their chest, where their missing transformation cog should go. So Megatron sticks the decal on his shoulder instead.

Later, he gets a cog, and the hole in his chest is filled. When Sentinel Prime captures Megatron, he notices the Megatronus sticker, and rips it off. Then, he re-applies it on Megatron's chest—purely so it's in the "right" place for the iconography. And then, he uses his gun to crudely brand Megatron with a tracing of Megatronus' face, inadvertently creating the Decepticon symbol. Finally, in a post-credits scene, Megatron has fashioned a proper Decepticon brand with which to brand himself and his followers. So in effect, there are four separate moments where Megatron gets the symbol! Orion sticking it on his shoulder, Sentinel moving it to his chest, Sentinel mutilating him, and finally Megatron branding himself. You can make an argument that the symbol starts out meaning one thing, but ends up meaning another thing, which has a kind of tragic significance—but I think you would struggle to distinguish subtle shades of meaning from all four of these brandings. Considering the movie only has an hour and a half to work with, I find this lack of narrative economy to be honestly embarrassing.

(My friend Jo also points out what a misstep it is to just have Megatronus Prime's face perfectly resemble the Decepticon symbol from the start. Had it been a looser, more stylised—that is to say, original—design, the moment where Sentinel Prime roughly carves it into Megatron's chest could be a shocking reveal, as the basic outlines are abstracted and simplified. Gasp, that's the origin of the Decepticon symbol! Instead, from the very moment that sticker first shows up, it's like... oh, well, there it is I guess.)

In a similar vein, both Optimus Prime and Megatron undergo two different transformations at different points in the movie: first, when Alpha Trion gives them transformation cogs, and second, when respectively they obtain the Matrix of Leadership/Megatronus' cog. The gun that sprouts from Megatron's arm in his intermediary form bears a much closer to resemblance to his iconic "fusion cannon" than the triple-barrelled cannon he ends up with in his final form. Again, in such a short film, can we really say whatever subtlety this brings to Megatron's arc is worth all this fanfare? Now, Redditors ask: "What is the EXACT moment D-16 became Megatron?"

In fact, probably the only point of criticism I've seen levied at Transformer One from within the Transformers fandom at large is that Megatron's arc is maybe a little "rushed". He starts out being best bros forever with Orion Pax, and by the end of the film, he's ready to drop the guy into a bottomless pit. The film takes a lot of time to justify his anger at Sentinel Prime, but the deterioration of his friendship with Orion goes much more unspoken, and is framed more as a point of irrationality: psychologically, Megatron comes to conflate his bossy friend with his oppressive ruler. I liked this, personally. I liked that it's as if a switch gets flipped in Megatron's head. But you do just kind of have to buy into it. The film itself does not put in the work to really sell you on the friendship souring, because again, it's too busy fucking around with two (2) magical girl transformation sequences for each of them.

Everything in the film is like this. They go into the cave and meet Alpha Trion, then leave the cave so they can watch a FMV cutscene with Sentinel Prime and the Quintessons, who've coincidentally arrived at that exact moment, basically just to rehash what they've just been told... and then they go back into the cave so Alpha Trion can resume his infodump, and then they end up clashing with Sentinel Prime's forces once that's done. At the beginning of the movie, they're at the very bottom in the mines, then they get banished to an even lower level, then they banish themselves all the way up to the surface, then they return to Iacon, and then Megatron gets banished to the surface again so he can be mesmerized by the beauty of the world and/or get gunched by Quintessons depending on what the film wanted me to take away from this. Compare to Minecraft but I survive in PARKOUR CIVILIZATION [FULL MOVIE], where the theme of class struggle is pretty efficiently depicted in the vertically-stratified setting.

I just find it so wasteful. Outside of the one scene where they're introduced, the Quintessons—ostensibly the true architects of Cybertron's oppressive status quo—may as well not exist. If not for Orion Pax addressing his closing remarks to the Quintessons, almost as an afterthought, I'd assume the film wants us to forget about them entirely, as it knows full well that its paltry runtime does not give it time for a second action-climax against the aliens. Even as sequel bait, it feels halfhearted at best; Josh Cooley is clearly already bored of Transformers, and seems unlikely to come back for another round unless the money is really really good (which *glances at the box office* it's not). So what the fuck are the Quintessons here for? Was the idea that Sentinel might just have pulled off his coup singlehandedly really so hard to stomach? Could the conspiracy not have been simplified to just involve Sentinel and his Transformer cronies? Hang on, are all the Transformers seen at the start of the film in on it, or just some of them? How's it decided who keeps their cogs and who doesn't?

VI. Into nothing

Why does this movie, where the main selling point is ostensibly that we're getting to see Transformers civilization for the first time, mostly focus on all these guys who can't fucking transform? Surely the entire thing that makes the setting fun is the Zootopia angle of, look, they're all different animals! Or the Elemental angle of, look, they're all different elements! Or the Emoji Movie angle of, look, they're all different emoji! Or the Cars angle of, look, they're all different cars! This is a Transformers film which features several significant sequences involving these cool trains, and there is absolutely zero indication that these trains are themselves Transformers. This is a Transformers film which extensively focuses on miners, and none of them transform into mining vehicles; they're holding, friggin', space jackhammers. Even the premise of "isn't it sad that these ones can't transform" is kind of undercut by the fact that all the miners get to wear fucking jetpacks, which is a frankly much cooler and more effective method of locomotion than driving.

I'm just sick of Transformers stories having zero interest in the basic premise of Transformers, which is to say, they transform into something. I also think this is the biggest dissonance between casual audiences, who think "oh yeah, Optimus Prime, that guy who turns into a truck", and Transformers fans, who think, "oh yeah, Optimus Prime, the messiah or something". Normal people love to know what the Transformers turn into. They ask, "Wait, is there a Transformer that turns into [insert silly vehicle here]?" Of course people are interested in that angle! Vehicles are such a huge part of our daily lives—honestly, for those of us living in cities, more so than animals, the classical elements, or emoji—but the closest Transformers One comes to engaging with this lens is that aforementioned Iacon 5000 race sequence. By and large, it presents a world which is made for standing up and walking around. And personally I do think that's an insane approach to take?

Is the excuse that cars can't emote? Nonsense. If you've ever seen a traffic jam, you'll know that cars can sure as hell emote. Pixar, where Josh Cooley cut his teeth, famously spent a lot of time working out how to put a facial expression on a car. No, the problem dates back to the very start of the franchise.

In the 1980s, two main people were responsible for writing the comic stories: American writer Bob Budiansky, and British writer Simon Furman. Budiansky approached the premise of the franchise from an external, human perspective, writing about culture clash, and taking delight in the Transformers' mechanical alien nature as "robots in disguise". Meanwhile, Furman wrote the Transformers as giant people: he focused on their own internal conflicts and motivations, and the grand history of their war. Pretty much every Transformers story ever told can be boiled down to one of these schools of thought: Budianskian, or Furmanist.

Budiansky quit the comic after fifty issues, allowing Furman to take the reigns as sole writer, and Furman basically got the final word on what the Transformers are. They did not evolve from naturally-occurring gears, levers and pulleys. They were not designed by a supercomputer, or built by an alien race. They are the chosen sons of God. The Thirteen are, of course, an invention of Furman's. And Transformers One is perhaps the most Furmanist story ever told. It's the culmination of years and years of lore building up, ossifying into something you can no longer describe as the history of a universe—no, this is a mythology. It's the most perfect form of brand alignment imaginable: this is not an origin story, this is the origin story. It's been the origin story for a better part of the decade—and now that everyone's seen it in theatres, it will be the origin story forever.

It's not just the fiction, either, by the way. These days, if you go into the store to buy a Transformers toy, chances are it'll turn into some misshapen made-up futuristic concept car with unpainted windows and wheels that don't even roll—and that's terrible.

There's truly a lot to hate about Michael Bay's Transformers films, but with each new entry that's released following his departure from the franchise, I feel like I only find myself appreciating them more. In the 2007 Transformers movie, we see the Transformers crash-landing on Earth in their "protoforms", and their movements are animated like they're shy, like they're naked until they scan an Earth vehicle and adopt a disguise. The visual impact of Megatron, meanwhile, is that he doesn't adopt a disguise in that movie: he's a horrible metal skeleton that turns into a jet made of knives. It's weird and alien and it rules.

In the 1980s Transformers cartoon, and in the last-minute Cybertron-set prologue added to Bumblebee, and now in Transformers One, the Transformers look basically the same on Cybertron as they eventually do upon their arrival to Earth. Optimus Prime turns, unmistakably, into a truck. He has windows on his chest, and smokestacks on his arms. He doesn't have these features because he disguises himself as an Earth truck. He has those details because that's just what Optimus Prime looks like. They're his "essential brand elements", or "trademark details", which "identify the must-have elements in character design to be carried across all creative expressions". Prime may take any form he wishes, so long as it looks exactly like himself. A mask of my own face—I'd wear that.

What I find fucked up about the reception towards Transformers One is that a lot of people seemed very invested in its success—and not its popular success, certainly not its artistic success, but rather its commercial success. They wanted this to be the first film to make one bumblebillion dollars. They wanted Hasbro to line its fucking pockets and make movies like this forever. So if you express any kind of negativity towards this film online, which might theoretically affect some other person's decision of whether or not to go and see it, which might theoretically affect the profit it makes at the cinema, which might theoretically affect the future of the franchise in some unknown way, then you're some sort of fandom traitor who oughta be executed.

If you're so worried about the future of the franchise, the fandom really isn't where you should be looking. Like, c'mon, the Transformers fandom has been good as gold, we buy so many toys. Meanwhile, Hasbro just got finished laying off around 100 employees with no warning to make their books look a bit better. Transformers designer John Warden—who'd worked at Hasbro for 25 years, is widely credited with inventing the modern paradigm of Transformers toylines, and ultimately became the creative director of both Transformers and G.I. Joe—was on assignment to a convention in the UK with the rest of the Transformers team when he heard the news. Suffice to say, he did not end up making a public appearance at the convention. With his work's health insurance snatched away without notice, he's had to resort to crowdfunding to pay his family's medical bills. As a well-known figure in the toy industry, he will presumably find a new job and land on his feet, but the same cannot be said for all 99 of the remaining employees we're told have been unceremoniously dumped.

The Binder of Revelation, which has been something of a holy grail of behind-the-scenes material for over a decade, has finally been leaked—presumably by one of these guys, presumably out of spite.

Now, I'm not going to pretend to have been paying particularly close attention to Hasbro's financials, but from where I'm sitting, it sure seems that ever since the sudden death of then-CEO Brian Goldner in 2021—credited for saving the company in 2000, and overseeing the explosive growth of its intellectual property ever since then—his replacement, Chris P. Cocks (or "Crispy Cocks", as we're all now calling him), has been dead set on gutting the company for all it's worth. The Power Rangers franchise, which the company acquired for $522 million in 2018, is dead in the water, with huge quantities of physical assets being flogged at auction for quick cash. In 2019, they acquired the entertainment company eOne for $4.0 billion, and now they're selling off the whole shebang (except the cash-printing Peppa Pig franchise) for just $500 million. I guess maybe they just fucked it big style?

Because now, Crispy Cocks has proudly announced that Hasbro is going to stop financing movies altogether.

I'm sure that in the wake of this announcement, many of those aforementioned fandom pundits will be drawing a correlation between this announcement, and the box-office figures for Transformers One, and the fact that you personally failed to convince your Mom to go see it with you or whatever. "Ah, you see! They didn't make enough of their money back, and now they're consolidating. Simple economic cause and effect. Market forces." And look, I'm not going to sit here and claim these things are wholly unrelated. Of course they're very related. But I am going to make the case that, in truth, nobody at Hasbro really cared how Transformers One did. Unless it turned out to be some pie-in-the-sky runaway hit, I don't think the future of the Transformers film franchise would've been particularly different if only the film had done better.

With Paramount, Hasbro has been making these movies and having them underperform ever since 2017's The Last Knight—which apparently lost Paramount $100 million—and that's because at the end of the day, what they're most interested in isn't making movies. It's making toy commercials. And on that level, the Transformers films have clearly been a success so far.

Now, Crispy Cocks' skinsuit fashions itself as a gamer, so he can personify Hasbro's hardcore pivot towards digital and tabletop gaming. While we await the release of the assuredly-dogshit, assuredly-hell-to-have-worked-on, assuredly-never-coming-out Transformers: Reactivate, the brand has been whored out to a procession of mobile games you've never heard of, glorified gambling machines designed to hack the monkey part of your brain with bright colors and Things You Recognize. The exact content of these games is irrelevant; all that matters is the announcement, on every single pop culture news outlet simultaneously (naturally—they're all owned by the same company, talk about Monopoly), of New Collaboration Between Transformers And Goon Warriors Free To Download Now. Your daily, weekly, bi-annual reminder to think about that thing you can buy.

That's all any of this stuff is.

All these words spilled about what a good movie Transformers One is, and how bad it is, and why the marketing failed it, and what the next one might be like, and- none of it mattered! It does not matter. From the beginning, this movie was always going to be too preoccupied with its own mercenary interests to be something anyone would ever be able to seriously talk about as a work of art, even corporate art. The actual content of the movie is irrelevant; I've spent very little of this review talking about it, because there's nothing there to talk about. It is the mere fact of the movie's existence that serves its purpose. Like the Optimus Prime Fortnite skin, it's enough for it to occupy our attention.

Maybe that's why they staggered the film's release date: because some marketing exec watched the rough cut and realised, if everyone saw it at once, we'd be done talking about it within a fortnight. And in ten years' time, after it has been paraded around whichever streaming services survive 'til then, and nearly every last cent of revenue has been squeezed out of it, the kids will be able to watch it on YouTube with ad breaks, and decide what they want for Christmas.

To the Transformers fans reading this, I am begging you, unless you happen to own shares in Hasbro for some fucking reason, to disabuse yourself of the feeling that you owe any kind of loyalty to a toy franchise. It shouldn't matter to you one jot how Transformers One did in theatres. The people who actually make the product you care about, the friendly faces paraded before you on livestreams and press tours, don't see this money anyway—they too are merely assets, who can be fired and replaced with cheaper, inferior equivalents.

I'm sure many of you will have, from the very start, seen this review for the foolish endeavour it is. I've wasted all this time criticising Transformers One for its lack of artistic vision, when the truth is, Transformers One is playing an entirely different game. Like the Disney Channel running "Fishy Facts!" segments to subliminally get kids interested in fish a full year and a half before the release of Finding Nemo, this is not a product—it's an ad for a product.

...

Okay I'll be honest, I don't entirely love where this review has ended up. It ends on kind of a "bummer note", I guess you could say. Flashing back to sections I. and II., I feel like things started out so fun. We had that whole bit at the start where I was telling you about the Transformers, remember that? We learned so much together. And there were even a few moments where I was able to express some kind of sincere joy and appreciation over this thing that I supposedly adore so much. Sure, I did a lot of complaining, but it was fun complaining, right? It had like, a sarcastic edge to it, sort of.

What happened? Why am I suddenly talking like I want to cut someone's head off? As I grow more bitter, I type this essay with increasing difficulty. The massive gun that's sprouted from my forearm keeps colliding with my monitor.

Hasbro descends from on high to reward @TFHypeGuy, a grown-ass adult who has spent untold unpaid hours fearlessly replying to every single viral tweet to tell people to go see the film, somehow netting himself 80,000 followers in the process, with a crate of toys, which was probably his end goal from the start. He and I duel. We trade blow after blow. Finally, he clobbers me with a Walmart-exclusive light-up Ultimate Energon Optimus Prime figure. "It didn't have to end this way," he says. Then he banishes me to the surface world to think on my sins.

VII. The Wrong Trousers 👖 | Train Chase Scene 🚂 | Wallace & Gromit

When Eric Pearson came onto the project,

It was late middle of the game. They had a script that had the outline of the story, which is still very much the structural bones of the story now. But what I found interesting about animation is there are certain things that were far along in the process. The train escape to the surface was very far along, so that was just kind of locked. Maybe you could change a line here or there. Meanwhile, the opening, the whole first 10 minutes, was all storyboards and sketches, which changed a bunch of times.

And I do think that's a really difficult position for a scriptwriter to be in. Sure, the parts of the screenplay I feel able to attribute to Pearson, I wasn't particularly impressed by. But I think this anecdote goes to show how unnatural the constraints can be on a story like this. When you think of like, a scene that's key to Transformers One, you're probably imagining something like the Megatron/Optimus fight, or the scene in the mine—not the train scene, which is basically a bit of arbitrary connective tissue bridging the two main locations in the film.

Josh Cooley, the film's director, the face of the film on the press circuit from a creative standpoint, came onboard after five years of previous development work was already done. Writers Andrew Barrer and Gabriel Ferrari, who originally pitched the film and presumably wrote the early drafts of the story, might have already left the project by that point. Aaron Archer and Rik Alvarez, the creative forces behind the Binder of Revelation, left Hasbro years before the film was even pitched. It's no wonder to me that the final result feels incoherent, disjointed, and oddly stilted. It's certainly no wonder that nobody at Hasbro today really seems to care about the film; it's not their baby. If any of the people credited with bringing the project to completion had been given full creative freedom to make whatever Transformers movie they wanted, it would've looked completely different.

Luckily, there are still plenty of areas of the franchise where creators have just been allowed to go ham. Over in Japan, TRIGGER has taken a modest budget for a music-video and produced one of the most visually-striking bits of animation in the franchise, a true love-letter to all the weird parts of its forty-year history. And in America, comic creator Daniel Warren Johnson is halfway through his Eisner-winning new run on the title, which is the kind of thing I would basically recommend to anyone without caveats as being a phenomenal story, period. If that comic can be said to be an advert for anything, it's for Skybound's other, nowhere-near-as-good comic series, or for the unofficial unlicensed copyright-infringing Magic Square Optimus Prime toy Daniel Warren Johnson apparently used as reference the whole time.

I dunno, maybe Hasbro stepping back from financing these films is a good thing, in the long run. Maybe we can do without Transformers movies for a while. And however many years down the line, maybe Paramount or some other studio will put together a new team of talent, and they'll get to do whatever it is they want. And maybe the movie they make will be the one that knocks everyone's socks off.

Truly, I don't know where the road leads from here. It hasn't been built yet. It could turn out to go anywhere.

If you made it this far, I hope some of what I've said has been entertaining or interesting. Thanks for reading!

Time to for me to come clean. There is one other reason why I've waited so long to release this review... and that's because I have a special announcement to make. Last month I set myself a little challenge: to write something that's at least as long as this review, but which isn't another negative-nancy tirade. It's a story.

The working title is "Ice Road Transformers". It's like an episode of that one reality TV show about Canadians driving trucks across frozen lakes—except the truck is Optimus Prime.

Early reviews say it's good! It'll be going through several rounds of revisions, to turn it into a well-oiled machine, hopefully in time for a seasonally-appropriate wide release in February. I'm very excited for you to be able to read it. You can follow me here or on Bluesky to be the first to find out when it's ready!

I'd like to thank my friends Jo and Umar for their work interviewing Cooley and di Bonaventura during the film's press circuit, along with Viv, Callum, and Omar for allowing me to enjoy this film much more than I otherwise might have. I wouldn't have been able to express many of my feelings about this movie nearly so cogently if not for the conversations I had with them. Additional thanks go to Chris McFeely, as his Transformers: The Basics videos (linked throughout this essay) refreshed my memory on a lot of the Aligned stuff, sparing me from having to read The Covenant of Primus again.

[salmalin]

My sincerest apologies and warmest welcome to my rant about FF7: Crisis Core. Or, as I like to call it,

Propaganda: The Video Game

I say this with the utmost affection. Crisis Core ranks really high up there in my favorite Final Fantasy 7 installments. I played it when it first came out, borrowing it from a friend to play on a borrowed PSP. And, the more I learn about the game and the more I replay it, the more everything lines up.

This game is not about Zack Fair.

This game is about how Capitalistic Propaganda can sink into every aspect of life to the point where it is entirely indistinguishable from reality. And it’s very overt about it. So…

Here we go.

My treatise on Propaganda’s starring role in Crisis Core.

Part One: The Timeline

Something that a lot of people gloss over due to decades of Child Heroes in media—Japanese Shonen and Shoujo series in particular—is how young these protagonists are. We’ll hand-wave a lot of stuff in non-live-action series with just a little bit of suspension of disbelief. And that’s honestly just accepted these days. But here’s the thing about those hand-waves.

Final Fantasy 7 doesn’t do that.

Now, FF7 hand-waves a lot of stuff. For example, how far you can travel in a day by foot, the distance a man weighing approximately 165lbs can jump after being genetically fused with what might as well be a cocaine demon (Jenova), and how much hairspray one can reasonably carry on a cross-country journey while on the run from the feds.

Age is not one of them.

Exhibit A: Yuffie Kisaragi.

Do I really need to say more? She acts her age. So does Zack. And Aerith, even. Most of the characters in the original lineup were over twenty for a good reason. We see several kids in the series, and they all act their age, too—both the OG and the remake. Age is not a thing that FF7 really grapples with. It’s something they take relatively seriously.

Now, to the point.

Zack is 16 when Crisis Core starts…

… and he was 13 when he ran away from home without his parents’ knowledge to join the military.

Which accepted him.

At 13.

Without a parental permission slip.

Think about that for a second.

… Or for the next several parts of this breakdown.

Part Two: The Main Character

As I mentioned in the introduction, Zack is not the main character of the events of Crisis Core. Instead, he is the focal point of the second person POV. This is not the first time Square has done this. It was done most notably with FF9, FF10, and FF12. (I’m not going to go on an Akira Kurosawa rant right now, but please check out his film “The Hidden Fortress”. FF12 and Star Wars episodes 4-6 borrow heavily from this film.) The purpose and position of this character is such that they might best witness the effects the other characters make on the world as their stories unfold, usually in the role of a love interest. For Akira Kurosawa, it may have been told this way because these people are most effected by the decisions being made.

“Well, then, Sal,” you may be asking, “who would you say is the main character? Would that be Aerith, since she’s the love interest, like in the other games?”

No, actually.

It’s the antagonist.

And by that, I mean Genesis.

Hear me out. I used to hate Genesis, for I was once young, full of judgement for flamboyancy (thanks, internalized homophobia), and was led by the narrative to believe he was mean to his friends. Then I met my Lovely beta who loved him, so I wrote a fic for her as a gift. So for that I kinda just… read stuff. Because that’s the thing about Propaganda—you gotta read stuff to navigate it. I read the in-game emails. I re-watched all the scenes I could get my hands on with him. I read his wiki and tried to track down more information about him. Then I watched the scenes in Japanese and gained a better understanding of not just Genesis, but Sephiroth’s character. And I realized that Genesis was put on this road from the start. In fact, a big part of the fact that he’s seen the way he is in Canon—only at his most hostile and lowest points—is because the story is told through Zack’s point of view.

So before we get into the breakdown, here’s the hard facts about Genesis.

1. He was a test tube baby who may or may not technically be Angeal’s fraternal twin brother, which we are not going to unpack right now.

2. He was adopted by a relatively rich family.

3. He was a child genius (which requires not only resources, but drive to achieve), and at a tender young age of like… ten or something? He decided to mess around and literally invented pasteurization. Which is incredible, and really speaks to his knowledge of the world and ability to grasp complex concepts even at a young age. But, again, this is not the time or place to unpack that.

4. He was best friends with Angeal, who might as well have been the sweetest, kindest boy to ever walk the Planet. (I’m biased. I love him.)

5. As a teenager, he became fixated on Sephiroth, who had gained national acclaim as a SOLDIER despite them being the same age. (Please see part 1 and think about that for a second.) He then goes to join SOLDIER and brings Angeal with him. And Angeal brings his step-father’s puritanical “hard work is honorable” mindset with him. (On that note, Angeal and his father’s arc really are a wonderfully scathing letter to companies that overwork their employees and how toxic/unhealthy that line of thinking is. But. Again. We are not unpacking that right now.)

6. At one point he became consumed with LOVELESS, a series of poems with heavy prose and symbolism thicker than syrup. It got to the point where he was so well known for it that there was an entire fanclub dedicated to both him and analyzing the text.

7. While he was in SOLDIER, he repeatedly had his achievements publicly accredited… to Sephiroth.

Over and over and over again.

Everyone did, really. They mention it in the beginning of the game. Sephiroth even got public credit for Zack’s raid on the castle when he wasn’t even there. How much of his legacy is real? How much of it is made up? How much of it was faked? We don’t know. No one knows. But he keeps getting credit, anyways. And when Genesis confronts him about it, Sephiroth doesn’t care. In the Japanese version of their fight scene, you could even say he indirectly implies that he wants Genesis to take his place as the “hero”. In the English, Sephiroth’s line is, “Come and try.” But in the Japanese the line is closer to, “Wouldn’t that be nice?” Which, depending on how you take his tone, can mean wildly different things—from mocking, to earnest, or even admiration—which is especially to tell because he might be annoyed with Genesis at the moment.

Fun Fact: In Ever Crisis, Sephiroth explicitly says they are making up his achievements in the press to target boys his age for recruitment. (Thus why they accepted Zack at age 13.)

My theory on this line is that he is being cynical; that Genesis doesn't understand just how harrowing and even humiliating his experience has been. This only enforces my theory that the "come and try" translation in the English not only does a disservice to a line as wonderfully heavy as, "Wouldn't that be nice?", but fundamentally misunderstands Sephiroth as a character.

8. Genesis then took the fight to Shin-Ra. Inspiring a good chunk of their staff to leave the company, he then staged multiple attacks on facilities, staff, and the main building—which also spilled out into the city of Midgar. He murdered his parents, buried them, killed everyone in town, and… Yeah. It wasn’t pretty. A lot of innocent people died simply because they were vaguely associated with Shin-Ra. These are the actions of a villain. What’s more, this is clearly a sign that he has been acclimatized to death and violence by Shin-Ra to the point where he doesn’t even consider taking hostages.

Except.

Except the entire town was a Shin-Ra town.

Banora, canonically, was a Shin-Ra built town, which means everyone there was basically an employee of the company. No one was safe. Everyone was a threat. And that…

That was how he was raised. And he finally knew the truth—that every moment of his life was touched, controlled by Shin-Ra, all the way down to his very conception. He has never known freedom. He has never known his own identity. And now that very cage was killing him, slowly and painfully, and turning him into something that couldn’t even be recognized as human. He was watching himself rot in the mirror, and it was all because of Shin-Ra’s greed. And as he searched for salvation, he sunk into LOVELESS as he always had, hinging his entire life on Minerva’s Gift because he knew he was dying and that was all he had.

9. And then he died…

10. … but then it turned out LOVELESS was actually kind of a blueprint, and he did meet the Goddess, and he did get reborn without his degradation so he was rewarded for his journey in the end.

So why wasn’t Genesis the main character of the game?

Simple.

His actions challenge the status quo without being about the status quo. It’s a story about revenge. It’s a story about retribution. It’s a story about answering mass violence with mass violence and ultimately being rewarded by it. And while, yes, the series is an action-based violence simulator, the violence in the original FF7 was a guided, tactical effort. (For all that the characters aren’t the brightest bulbs in the sun lamps.) But the biggest, most obvious shift in the narrative happened when they realized their role as terrorists—bringing mass violence to the company via bombing and open aggression—was just resulting in increasing levels of retaliation against uninvolved people. They might as well have been a child beating the ankles of a giant. The goals and themes of the game fundamentally change when they realize that answering mass-scale societal violence with mass-scale physical violence was not only unsustainable, but also wasn’t going to solve their problem.

FF7 is about change and learning when violence—and what kind of violence—is appropriate in the face of different threats.

Genesis’ arc undermines all of that, and making him the main character would contradict the very heart of the OG game.

So, instead, we are positioned as Zack, connected to him through a mutual friend. From there we see all the damage and horror this vengeance brings to those living under the status quo.

But also, that plotline’s a major downer in a lot of ways, so they needed to lighten things up a bit to keep audience involved. And that’s why Zack is, well…

Part Three: Zack is a Himbo

Please, for the love of all that is holy, keep in mind that everything I say here is with the utmost affection.

Zack is dumb as a rock.

He is a charismatic, enthusiastic sixteen year old jock who ran away from home at thirteen years old to join the military. Which, please know, why I say “military” I mean “private security guard force with a standard-issue Death Baton and a license to kill”. The first scene in the game is him being excited that he gets to murder a bunch of people in a simulation, which he is immediately scolded for by his mentor. He is a glorified, souped up private security guard who is canonically only in it for the glory at first. He wants to be a “hero”, but doesn’t seem to fundamentally know what that means. And, over the course of the story, the definition of that clearly changes for him.

Which tracks, because the story takes place over a period of time with high stress.

Occasionally I see people saying they wish that Zack had more complexity to him, and honestly? The game. Would be. SO. BAD.

Full Disclosure: I am not the biggest fan of Zack specifically because he lacks a lot of nuance. I wish he was a bit more complex, too. But I also know that would break the game. What’s worse, if he was still on Shin-Ra’s side because he understood Shin-Ra’s mission… Well… That would make him a villain, or a cog at best. That’s not main character material. It would make the ending more messed up, though.

Anywho, Zack was thirteen when he left home. He had no formal education. He didn’t tell anyone what he was doing. He even joined without a permission slip from his parents. This means that Shin-Ra was accepting thirteen, possibly fourteen year olds into the military. (Some people will say this tracks because you can get a job at fourteen in many parts of Japan. But, and this is important, you aren’t allowed to be a security guard until you’re quite a bit older, and you need a specific license for it, much like in the US.) Clearly they didn’t teach this boy critical thinking skills. Not because he’s a himbo, but because having their Super-Powered Private Security Force With A License To Kill think independently would explicitly go against their interests. (EX: Genesis.)

Shin-Ra needs SOLDIERs to follow orders or the company would no longer be able to function. Seconds and Thirds aren’t even allowed to reject missions. (One could argue that sending certain someone on back-to-back missions would be a good way for them to eliminate undesirables within the ranks by sending them to their deaths, which… would make an incredible fic idea, actually.) We already know that First, Second, and Third Class rank assignments do not actually reflect the power of the SOLDIER. This is canon. I would instead argue that those who make the rank of First Class aren’t necessarily the most powerful, but are instead the most visible in the media, thus the easiest to market, and/or the easiest to manipulate and control. (For a great example of this, see The Umbrella Academy.)

The point is, Zack may have been elevated to his position as a first specifically because he is malleable and single-minded. Even after all he saw with Genesis, he stuck by the company to the very end, with the exception of the time Sephiroth was literally guiding him to fail a mission. Zack allowed himself to take Shin-Ra’s side every time, taking down their enemies and following their orders, preserving his “honor as SOLDIER” as he had been taught. The only thing that made him stop…

… was literally getting put in a jar.

It was when he was no longer a SOLDIER.

Part Four: Honor

There is no such thing as SOLDIER Honor.

I repeat: There is no such thing as SOLDIER Honor.

It is a fictional thing that is borne of an ideology based around hard work. It only has power because it is believed in. It is an intangible social construct similar to the law, mathematical order of operations, and gender roles. So why are Angeal and Zack obsessed with it?

Pretty simple.

Angeal’s step-father followed it.

Now, we know three things about Angeal’s step-father.

1. He was chill with the fact that Gillian was already pregnant when they started dating.

2. He was a very good father.

3. He worked himself to death trying to pay off the sword he bought Angeal.

This, of course, says a lot about Angeal considering he rarely uses the sword. He essentially sees that sword as the symbol of his step-father’s life. Everything he uses it for, he sees as more important than his step-father’s life. That thing is usually Zack.

Zack, who is the child who joined the military based on stories of heroes.

Zack, who rises against Angeal in the name of his own step-father’s ideology and tries to talk him down, even at the very end. But Zack fails because he fundamentally doesn’t understand what’s going on, partially because “Soldier Honor” is just one more aspect of this narrative he was given. It is a narrative that Angeal has had to step away from, even though he doesn’t want to leave the memory of his step-father behind. He was a good man. He was a good, hardworking man.

And that is why he died.

Corporations will use you up until there is nothing left, then honor your memory/sacrifice. Shin-Ra was doing the exact same thing the company his step-father worked for did; using up SOLDIERs until they outlived their usefulness. And Angeal was horrified to realize that his “SOLDIER Honor” wasn’t honor at all.

It was willingly submitting to control.

But, unlike Angeal, over time, this meaning changed for Zack. Partially because he didn't understand it fully in the first place. It became about acting with integrity. It became about helping people. It became about not lying down and watching the abuse Shin-Ra handed out in exchange for literal money; for maintaining the status quo.

At the very end, Zack understood what it meant to be a hero.

Part Five: The Conclusion

To sum up, Zack believed in and idolized the propaganda spread by Shin-Ra at such a young age, and was so convinced by it, that he ran away from home at thirteen to join the military.

He was their target demographic, so they happily took him into their ranks. What’s more, people think this is normal enough that we see no one opposing this, because the only people who oppose Shin-Ra are “extremists” or “violent terrorists”.

Zack then became their loyal puppy, groomed to fill his role as super-powered attack dog to sick on anyone they deemed appropriate, and he filled the role. He believed he was doing good. He didn’t think they were invading another country, because that’s not what he was told.

He went after Genesis, because that’s what he was told, and he wouldn’t let Genesis’ actions shake his faith in the company.

Then he went after Angeal, hoping to get answers, only to become more confused. Angeal taught him about SOLDIER honor. He taught him about a higher calling. He was the one who made Zack truly loyal to the company. This challenged everything Zack knew.

He went with Sephiroth, planning a small rebellion of their own (a white lie on paperwork) to get answers, only to find things he wasn’t ready for and couldn’t fully understand.

Zack is shaken by each of these events. Horribly. At times, we even watch him grieve. But time and time again, he doesn’t leave the company. He sees the damage they do first hand, and he doesn’t leave the company. The company isn’t the problem, to him. He reads their emails, does their dirty work, and “maintains his SOLDIER honor”.

Zack swallows what they give him right up until what they give him is torture.

Zack swallows what they give him until he becomes their victim.

Every step of the way, Zack is fed a story of how the world is. He was raised on it. He lived it. He became part of it. He was paid peanuts to enforce the status quo Shin-Ra installed in the world by force, and he was proud of it because it was, to him, something to be proud of.

Zack believes the propaganda whole-sale, and we get to watch, from the point of view of an outsider, as it slowly destroys his life before killing him.

Propaganda has the power to make suffering normal. Propaganda has the power to make murder righteous. Propaganda has the power to take a thirteen year old boy out of his home so they can give him a sword, and when they point him in the direction of their enemies he charges of his own volition, because they made him believe in their cause. And he believes in their cause because he believes that it makes life better for everyone.

But that’s not what’s actually happening.

That’s just what he was told.

Crisis Core is about propaganda, and the depths to which it can affect our lives. It changes our belief systems. It changes our perceptions of reality. And when it’s torn down around our eyes, it can make us go insane. It can make us violent and unreasonable as we realize just how much violence is being forced upon us—violence other people just plain do not see. It's just a a piece of paper. It's just a law. It's just a job.

It's just a war.

Final Fantasy 7 was about Fascism.

Crisis Core is about the propaganda that built it. It is told from the point of view of a boy, then a man, steeped in it. He watches until the people suffering around him—Sephiroth, Genesis, and Angeal—are twisted into villains by the truths and lies around them. Genesis and Angeal are tortured by truths, Sephiroth is transformed by lies, and Zack is subsequently hunted down to conceal them.

Crisis Core is Propaganda: The Video Game.

[facts-i-just-made-up]

Could I please request some facts about the glorious country of Greece?

Greece is one of the oldest countries in the world, Earth. Born Hellen E. Kidimocratia around 830 AM (after Minos), Hellen was the most famous daughter of Alexander the Great, which made her the Aunt to Rome, and the 3rd cousin twice removed of Denver, Colorado.

Greece, as it was named because everything else was Rome for a while, was an island nation in that it was comprised of over 6,000 islands, though it is now only about 250 due to continental drift. These islands include Crete, home of the minotaur; Evia, where water was invented; Lesbos, where you can help Qamra heal workers at a farm; Phraxos, where Michael Caine had a realllly bad vacation; and Milos, who directed films such as Amadeus and Hair. Several of these islands originally proposed a set of rules by which to make a country, and the nation of Greece was formed when 30 Hellenes agreed.

Greece is now best known for its ruins of several thousand years ago, for its mythology from several thousand years ago, and for its romantic comedies with Nia Vardalos from the last few decades. In conclusion, if Greece were a shirt, it would be linen with lots of buttons and probably some stripes.

[greenteabelle]

lawrellini is many things. in chinese we call it 竹马抵不过天降. in english we call it doomed yaoi.

like aldo has all the characteristics of a main protagonist's love interest.

being his best friend for decades, thomas admires aldo in a way that one wishes the best version of themselves could be. aldo is brave in ways that thomas believes he is not; he isn't afraid to speak about his beliefs and doesn't back down even when there's opposition.

there's a certain tenacity to aldo that thomas can't find in himself, maybe due to his position or due to his struggle with his faith, and that's why thomas almost puts aldo on a pedestal with how highly he thinks of him.

(leading to the inevitable disappointment that happens in the film)

and the fact that it's not even unrequited?

aldo values thomas's opinions the most. we view the events of the conclave through thomas's perspective, so this can't exactly be confirmed, but i do believe that aldo thinks of thomas as his anchor. no matter what happens, thomas always handles matters with a steadfast attitude, as though he'll be able to take on anything with that same hint of a wry smile.

i mean, perhaps that's what aldo thinks. because we know that thomas is very much NOT calm at all throughout the book/movie. the man is literally always 3 seconds from hurling thanks to all the stress he's under!

the point is, both of them view each other as someone they wish they could be. no one else in the world could know each other as well as they do.

then vincent benitez comes along with a metaphorical halo in his luscious dark locks.

and i love lawrenitez because how can you look away from a pair who see the world in each other?

vincent's goodness helps thomas overcome his doubts, while thomas restores vincent's faith in voting for a pope who works himself to the bone for the people. they're simply in awe of each other in every scene they're together, and you simply can't look away.

neither can aldo.