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jesncin · 2 months ago

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Caped Crusader, "Safe Diversity", and Catwoman

We're at a point where it's expected that a new incarnation of any story previously with a white-dominated cast would be reimagined with a "more diverse" cast. This can mean racebending them, genderbending them or making them queer, but for the purposes of this analysis we'll be focusing on racebends. Most of the time, executives will take the "safer" routes with diversifying their cast- pick a couple of unproblematic supporting characters to be incidentally "diverse this time". Other times, there might be "braver" takes where more prominent characters (perhaps even the main character) are racebent. This doesn't necessarily mean racebending prominent characters is an inherently better thing to do.

I've been more than critical of MAWS' portrayal of BIPOC characters but especially their Asian Lois before. Sometimes BIPOC representation is just a decorative palette-swap change for these shows. Caped Crusader however, is different. It's more complicated- but it's rooted in very similar problems. Unlike MAWS (though I can only speak for S1), CC is far more willing to take on political topics: classism, sexism, police corruption and brutality, even beauty standards in the entertainment industry! Yet, in choosing to portray these topics in their stylistically anachronistic 30s-40s set piece- it makes it so the show's reluctance to discuss race intersecting with any of these topics far more apparent.

(spoilers for all of Caped Crusader)

Take for instance, episode 2: "...And Be A Villain". The story is about Basil Karlo, a less than handsome actor who wishes his appearance wasn't holding him back from both love and playing roles saved for better looking people. He makes a deal with Jack Ellman, an experimental makeup artist who turns him into Clayface. This story is set in motion when Miss Yvonne Francis, a beautiful actress, goes missing. Miss Francis is a woman of color (brown skinned, unspecified) played by Lacey Chabert: a white actress. CC goes for a generally colorblind casting what with Stephie (a white girl) being voiced by Amari McCoy (a Black actress) but it always feels icky when a white actor voices a character of color. Prominent characters of color in CC are more accurately casted. However I do think animation should be wary of using their medium to get away with their show appearing more diverse than the actual talent behind it.

The episode's theme is pretty clear on how unfair the entertainment industry is in regards to who it prioritizes in leading roles. Basil is constantly emphasized as a tragically talented actor whose appearance is holding him back. "With your talent you should be a leading man, Basil." Yvonne says to Basil in a flashback. Meanwhile as Alfred is watching through movie clips featuring Yvonne and Basil together, he comments "while lovely to look at, Miss Francis is no Gloria Swanson." So Yvonne has the looks, but not the talent and still gets prestigious roles because that's showbiz. The only time this is weirdly inconsistent is when Yvonne calls out Basil/Clayface in the finale, saying:

"I don't believe your performance. You're chewing on scenery. Relying on makeup effects to enhance weak characterization. It's insincere, Basil. It's not real."

I honestly feel like this scene was just meant to quickly "subvert" Yvonne being a damsel in distress by having her call out Basil's acting. It's a moment that isn't reinforced by anything the episode set up. After all, according to Alfred, she's not as good an actor compared to Basil. That's supposed to be how they foil each other, so this moment feels unmotivated. Again, I get what they're going for, that Basil's performance ironically relies on his newfound appearance so much that even a bad actress like Yvonne can spot his meager acting. But it doesn't work when our protagonists were actually convinced by his imitation of others. She's still a damsel in distress character regardless of her having a bit of attitude when calling her captor out.

What I don't understand is: why make Yvonne a woman of color if this was the story you wanted to tell? It's not like they're paying homage to how her voice actress looks, after all. Why, in your story set in purposely anachronistic 30s-40s era noir, did the character who was meant to represent the epitome of "not talented but gets by the industry because of her conventional beauty and pretty privilege" a woman of color? We're missing the very obvious conversation here where Tinsel Town is a white industry with white biases to what it considers attractive. It doesn't matter how many attractive actors of color exist, they're still pigeon holed into stereotyped and often racist roles (especially back then), and have to work twice as hard to get the opportunities their white colleagues get. Why is Basil, a white man, the only one afforded a marginalized narrative when Yvonne is quite literally a woman of color right next to him? The episode is especially painful to sit through when Basil is afforded so much sympathy compared to Yvonne.

"He didn't have the right look. He didn't have the right face."

"The camera is kind to some, but cruel to others."

This is transparently a colorblind narrative. Yvonne is written and even casted as a white woman. The CC crew just decided she should be a WOC likely because "wouldn't it be neat if the beautiful actress in this story is POC" without thinking about how that would drastically change a narrative already critical of the showbiz industry based on appearances. It's not intersectional and flattens the narrative to being selective of the prejudices Tinsel Town has. This episode is a great example to what CC generally does with diversity. It's not afraid to be critical of society, but it gets oddly squeamish with discussing how race intersects with these topics- opting mostly for a palette-change type of representation.

It's not entirely fair to say CC doesn't ever touch on the topic of racism. It sort of does: if you read between the lines for why the mayor gives Jim Gordon his commissioner role, and more prominently with the Gentleman Ghost (a rich aristocrat ghost that steals from the poor, believing wealth is his right) being offended that his mansion is sold to Lucius Fox (saying "and you would sell it to rabble like this?")- racism is somewhat present in the world of CC. We see the women in this show experience misogyny, but it's ambiguous if any of their struggles are intersectional with that of race. But that's... just about it. Racism isn't discussed more than it is alluded to, whenever the writers decide it's relevant. Because of this, CC has a spectrum of hits and misses when it comes to integrating characters of color in their reimagined cast.

Here's how I would visualize that spectrum using canonized instances of Asian Lois Lane. I should emphasize that representation of people of color doesn't entail the narrative owing us "a racism arc" or what have you. This spectrum is more used to measure how much racial identity was integrated in the characterization of the character: whether that be cultural identity or history. Being a person of color isn't just "person who goes through racism".

This is how I'd personally place the prominent characters of color in CC on my "spectrum of racebends" chart. Generally most of the characters of color (whether reimagined that way or were originally POC already) are fairly harmless in how they were integrated into CC's world, but none of the characters feel bespoke as a reimagining of the character and are interchangeable with their white counterparts. To quote cartoonist Juni Ba (in a discussion on CC):

"...stripping characters of color in these time period stories of any cultural, [a]esthetic or social signifiers that’d make them true to the groups being represented. Instead they dress, act and speak very western."

In my opinion, the only character that is an exception to this is Linton Midnite (or as he's popularly known as: "Papa Midnite"). Midnite is a character so interlinked with Haitian culture and mysticism that even CC couldn't erase that aspect of his identity (important note: historically, the portrayal of Midnite since his creation is riddled in racism, but that's not my place to discuss here). Midnite at most speaks with an accent, dresses more nonconformingly compared to the western standard dress of all the other characters, and practices occultish stuff (though I don't think there was anything culturally specific in that episode, please correct me otherwise if someone has more insight!). That's a lot more cultural representation than just about any other character of color in CC. Midnite can't be changed to a white character, his African identity is too interlinked with who he is.

There are a few characters I consider in poor taste to be POC- that being Arnold Flass, Yvonne Francis (who we've covered already), and Harley Quinn (who will be getting her own post, as her case is complicated). So let's talk about cops, then.

I tend to be indifferent about media choosing to diversify cop characters because it feels like choosing the most "respectable to society" role for a marginalized character to play. Cops uphold bigoted systems of power at the end of the day, so that's a very comfortable place to represent your marginalized characters. It's why we keep getting gay or lesbian cops, which Batman media absolutely perpetuates as well with Renee Montoya. It's hard to cheer for two women of color being allowed to date and kiss in public when one of them is a cop, y'know? But this doesn't mean re-imagining cop characters doesn't have narrative merit.

In regards to Jim Gordon being reimagined as a Black cop, I'm gonna refer to La'Ron Readus' video on "Fixing the Batman's Copaganda problem" where he goes into detail about the missed potential of Black!Jim Gordon from Reeves' The Batman (2022). Generally, I felt that opportunity was missed in CC as well. While I love that Barbara Gordon is in CC, nothing about her being a WOC is integrated into this version of her. It felt like if either character was white, the story wouldn't be that different. The bigger issue here is the choice to racebend Arnold Flass- a previously white, blonde, cunningly smart, and brutally corrupt cop.

CC follows some of this in their version of Arnold Flass- he's paired with Harvey Bullock (also a corrupt cop). While Bullock is the brawns of the duo, Flass is the smarts. He's cunning and even implied to be willing to frame Bullock if the worse comes to it. It isn't an inherently bad idea to racebend a corrupt white cop into a Black cop. If the writers want to tell a story about how the police force assimilates people of color into the system and forces them to be just as if not more brutal than their white counterparts, then by all means tell that story.

But that's not what CC gave us. By rarely acknowledging race, we don't get to have a conversation or themes surrounding that delicate intersection of identities. We just have "diverse Flass". Look at these panels from Year One for example, can you imagine how Flass' casual disrespect for Gordon by constantly calling him "Jimmy" could be re-contextualized with a race change? Unlike other characters who just feel like missed opportunities for not integrating race into their characterization, Flass is an elephant in the room. To not acknowledge his race in themes of police corruption and brutality is to white wash the narrative with diverse paint.

I personally think the stronger narrative decision would have been to racebend Bullock as Black instead of Flass. Flass could still be the conniving cop, but he encourages Black!Bullock to be the more "violent brute" who does the dirty work for him. It would put a newfound racial layer to how Flass considers Bullock disposable. Then we could have some kind of commentary on how the police force encourages a system of abuse that makes even fellow POC turn on each other. It'd also make it so a certain scene would be better in optics.

I have many criticisms for the scene where Batman holds a gun to Flass in the finale of CC. It's a narratively unmotivated (see my criticisms for CC's Two Face here for elaboration) and weak moment that relies on metatextual shock value to cover up how underdeveloped this take on Batman is. But it's also just very uncomfortable optics-wise. It's a common and valid criticism that Batman as a character can very easily fall into copaganda, with his status, goals, and collaboration with the police force. In many ways, Batman is often written to be committing his own kind of vigilante police brutality.

Caped Crusader wants to be a deconstruction of a Batman tied to power and hellbent on his mission to eliminate crime. But because CC occasionally omits race from its narrative, the scene where Batman holds a gun to a Black cop-a man stripped of his ability to fight back-just falls flat for me. There's no acknowledgement in this scene that Batman basically gets to be an anonymous cop, "warning shots" and all. Batman shoots at an unarmed Black man several times. It's meant to be shocking to us how Bruce is willing to stoop to such a level and indulge in gratuitous gun violence, but it honestly hits too close to real incidents where this is racially the case for me to enjoy the narrative point of this scene.

You know a character who would be perfect for calling out Batman's many privileges? Selina Kyle. Let's talk about Caped Crusader's biggest downgrade.

I've heard just about all the arguments in favor for CC's reimagining of Catwoman and none have convinced me that this was in any way a good take on the character. I see people saying that this Catwoman is a return to her golden age roots, and there's a lot of misconception surrounding that assumption. So bear with me as looking at Catwoman's history is necessary to discuss race and how a character evolves.

Catwoman debuted in the 1940s as a jewel thief who disguised herself as an old lady. She was just called "The Cat" and would not don her more feline appearance until later. True to the mystery woman femme fatale trope she was inspired by, her backstory was left unknown for a long time. 10 years later, in Batman #62 it is revealed that after a plane accident bonked her head, the now named Selina Kyle got amnesia and went on a crime spree. Giving her leeway to reform and be an ally to Batman. This would historically inform how Selina Kyle toed the line between good and evil as an anti-hero.

Her origin would be revisited in 1983, in the Brave and the Bold #197. Although not canon to the mainline universe, it is still a crucial development for her character's history. In this story, Selina reveals that she lied about having amnesia to get out of facing punishment. Her true story was that she entered a life of crime to escape an abusive relationship with a rich man. The only loss her husband understood was material loss, loss of property, so stealing was how Selina fought back.

This crucial re-examination of her character transformed her from shenanigans inducing femme fatale, to a marginalized fighter. Shortly later in 1987 in Batman Year One, Catwoman is reimagined as a street-hardened sex worker in poverty. She is inspired by the Batman to become a vigilante for her own goals and gets annoyed that she's assumed to be his sidekick.

The moment Catwoman became marginalized by power, was the point where she became worthy of solo-character status. She was not only a compelling foil to Batman-capable of going toe to toe with him and make him question his motives even though she did not share his privilege-she could lead her own adventures reflecting a side of Gotham Bruce Wayne's perspective doesn't. She actively makes the setting of Gotham stronger because of how she's evolved as a character.

Catwoman's character would continue to evolve, with some iterations reimagining her as a latina woman and others where she's canonically bisexual.

While Catwoman has been portrayed by Black actresses before, I want to focus on the most recent and prominent iteration of a race-swapped Catwoman. When Matt Reeves' The Batman (2022) featured Zoe Kravitz as Selina Kyle, an explicitly biracial character within the text of the story, we see another step this character evolves. I think La'Ron Readus' video on "Why Race-Swapped Characters Are Not The Full Story" does a fantastic job of explaining why this is a narratively great race swap. To summarize (though I do encourage watching his video as he goes into depth about 2022 Batman's Jim Gordon as well among many other examples) and add analysis of my own: Selina being the byproduct of an Italian crime lord and a Black sex worker is a brilliant marriage of her original backstory (being connected to and abused by powerful men) and her modern backstory where she's poverty stricken (and tangentially related to a sex worker if we're talking about Batman Year One).

We understand why someone of her background would have an affinity for stray cats because of how she lost her mom at a young age, she is sympathetic to fellow people from the lower class, and explicitly calls out privileged white people- including Batman who attempted to over moralize Selina's partner as a sex worker.

"All anyone cares about in this place, are these white privileged assholes."

It's especially that last line that makes it so Selina's character isn't interchangeable with her white counterpart. She's a textually rich character to contrast Bruce in Batman 2022, and we can see how years of history and evolution has brought such an empathetic character to the screen. Interestingly, Readus feels that while 2022 Selina was an example of a race-swap that works, he believes it was great by coincidence, because of the miss that was Gordon's characterization in the same movie. I think with Reeves as a collaborator on Caped Crusader, that assumption was correct.

Selina in CC is back to being a rich socialite, but (unlike her Golden Age counterpart) she's not married into wealth- she's got generational wealth (with a dad serving jail time for tax evasion). Worse yet, she's taking what little remains of her money and spending it on superficially imitating the Batman to create her Catwoman persona. She even has her own reluctant Alfred, a Catmobile, the works. Selina steals things because. She likes shiny things. And is something of a kleptomaniac. Catwoman is instantly discovered to be Selina because of course she's not as good as Batman is with keeping a secret identity (another key difference from her Golden Age counterpart, whose backstory was shrouded in mystery for a decade).

It is laughable to me that CC touts that their version of Harley Quinn has an origin of her own outside of the Joker, only to turn around and make a Catwoman that is completely tied to copying a man as her origin (did they decide Harley's goofyness as a character needed to be replicated in Selina for some reason? In their supposed dark and edgy show?). What a strange choice to fixate on the part in Year One where Selina didn't like being mistaken for Batman's assistant despite being inspired by him and turn it into a quirky bit. It feels like such a regressive take that frames Selina as a sillier, whimsical version of Bruce that just spends money on a whim because women just aren't smart enough to know how to keep track of their money. They're too busy looking for shiny things to steal. The fact that both 2022 Batman and CC have a scene where Selina is looking through her many bills she's yet to pay is wild to me. How am I supposed to care for a Selina that has the expendable wealth to create a Catwoman costume, car, and gadgets, but delay paying her maid? One of these versions of Selina is far more sympathetic than the other.

Again, I get what CC is going for. Batman is characterized to be hellbent on catching criminals, Catwoman is supposed to serve as some kind of reflection of his obsession. They're both self destructive in their goals, but one is vengeance and the other is chasing thrills. But is that really as interesting a foil as having Catwoman be marginalized, just as skilled, and making Batman second guess himself? Is it a take that strengthens Gotham as a setting by shedding light on its lower class characters? Is it a take that makes her worth revisiting as a perpetual rogue and not a one off episode where's she's basically a shenanigans-inducing nuisance to Batman? Evolved takes on Catwoman have talked about her desire to seek thrills and paired it with how she dismantles power. So it's not like CC's take is particularly unique, it just lacks all the depth that usually surrounds Selina's thrill seeking.

In a show that is frankly desperate to make it so Bruce doesn't have a personal relationship to his rogues gallery because he's too busy being "A cold, remorseless avenger of evil, seemingly more machine than man. Forged in the fire of tragedy, every fiber of his being is dedicated to the eradication of crime." (according to promo) that's how we end up with Barbara as the foil and humanity to both Harvey Dent and Harley Quinn. How the show focuses on the police force more than Bruce. It feels especially pointed that Catwoman is characterized this way. When she doesn't contrast Bruce, she becomes less personal to him as a character that is poverty stricken but still matches up to him in skill. She can't challenge him or his worldview, he can't find her fascinating as an equal, all of their chemistry and intrigue is erased.

All this to say that of the characters revealed for CC, I was honestly surprised that Selina wasn't one of the many characters racebent. CC followed up on a Black Jim and Barbara Gordon, two characters that have been race swapped before in previous media. Most prominently! Harley is Asian in this iteration, something never done before. So why is it that Selina doesn't follow up on the many times she's been portrayed by Black actresses?

It's because it's an actual good racebend if written well. It wouldn't be a "safe" racebend because writing Selina this way means you'd have to acknowledge racism, and it would be much more noticeable if you didn't. There is no canonized version of Asian Lois Lane that parallels her relationship to Superman as an immigrant. But there is a version of Selina as a Black woman who directly calls out white people and is aware of systemic power. It's in something as prominent and mainstream as Matt Reeves' 2022 Batman. So instead it just reads as cowardice to me that CC couldn't follow up on this evolution of Selina.

Not only does it weaken Catwoman and Batman's relationship to regress Selina this way, but it actively weakens Gotham as a setting and the very themes of Caped Crusader. I personally think all the energy that went into Harley Quinn should have been shared with (or straight up gone to) Selina Kyle. Because unlike CC's take on Harley, the way Selina Kyle's marginalization intersects with race and queerness would have actually critiqued Gotham's class corruption effectively. As a Black queer woman, Selina would be among the most vulnerable people in Gotham. We don't have prominent characters in CC that truly reflect the lower class, there are these unnamed characters Harvey Dent sits next to on a train. There are some orphans with Batfam names. A proper Catwoman reimagining that takes advantage of her evolution would have filled this gap in their narrative.

But that's not how "safe diversity" works. CC would rather racebend and canonize the queerness of a character like their take on Harley Quinn. A WOC who gets to kiss a cop and call out powerful men, but not in a way that makes white people uncomfortable.

If I could edit the Sandman quote that "The great stories will always return to their original forms" for Superheroes, I'd say "The great stories will always return to their most resonant forms" because without iterations we don't get characters like the Kents, Alfred or Catwoman as we know her today. Classics are good to look to, but we like these characters because they evolve. In my opinion, none of CC's takes on these characters of color feel resonant. They're not definitive to the level of Mister Freeze's tragic love story in BTAS, among many standout narrative choices in BTAS that continue across media iterations.

In my opinion, CC isn't as thoroughly clumsy as MAWS is in regards to POC representation and race-swaps (all characters of color in MAWS get put in the left side of that chart I made. In the Sunken Place. Where they all Missed The Movement). However, I can't help but see Caped Crusader's take on the world of Gotham as nothing more than an anecdote in the evolution of Batman's story for the modern era. "It's BTAS but superficially more diverse and with less compelling narrative choices."

#ramblings #caped crusader spoilers #jesncin talks caped crusader #jesncin dc meta #long post under the cut #catwoman #rememberrr pls be nice these are just my thoughts

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queensunshinee · 1 month ago

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His favorite toy- Part 3 || Art Donaldson x reader

Word Count: 3.5k

(Part 1) (Part 2)

His favorit toy- Part 3:

Art regretted few things in his life. He regretted the number of times he ignored his grandmother's calls or told her he was in a hurry when, in reality, he didn’t have any special plans. It was rude and ungrateful toward a woman who genuinely loved and cared for him, something he couldn’t always confidently say about his parents. He regretted the fact that he lost to Patrick in the Juniors US Open final nearly a year ago, which changed the entire dynamic between them. More than the loss itself, Patrick won and claimed the ultimate prize- Tashi Duncan. Tashi Duncan, the talented, the perfect one. The one who was going to change the world of tennis as they knew it. And Patrick Zweig is fucking her. Art certainly regretted that. The tragic consequence of Patrick and Tashi’s relationship- Art was left alone. He didn’t realize how much of his life revolved around Patrick until their paths diverged. Patrick decided to be Patrick and try his luck as a pro; Art decided to go to college. And he thought that the fact he and Tashi were at the same college would give him a relative advantage, something to hold onto. Something stronger than winning a stupid tennis match. But not for Tashi Duncan. For her, a win is a win, and a loss is a loss, and they always come hand in hand. Tied up with a black ribbon, rubbing salt in his wounds. He hates losing. Being sidelined. He regretted every moment that led to the point where his best friend and the girl the entire universe revolved around, treated him like a charity case. Like he needed to be taken out for a walk before bed whenever Patrick came to visit, so he wouldn’t feel neglected. Fuck it. And fuck them.

Art regretted the day he met you. The time when he came late to the lecture, and you were sitting in the corner, relatively in the back. The first thing that stood out were your glasses, which complemented your delicate face, smiling at him with the shyest smile he’d probably ever encountered. He regretted the feeling that filled him and hasn’t left him since, the desire that you’d never smile at him like that again. He regretted the urge to tell you a joke, to see what you looked like when you laughed. To feel pride because he was the one who made you laugh. He wasn’t the funniest or most charismatic guy in the room—that was always Patrick. But you laughed. And he was right; your real smile, with teeth, was mesmerizing. He regretted how he acted with you. He wanted you to develop some character. Not to be a pushover, certainly not because of him. He loved the power he had and simultaneously hated it. He loved knowing exactly what you were thinking the moment you thought it. Everything seemed to be written on your face, like a superpower he had only with you. He’s a worse person for letting it spread like ivy on a building. So beautiful, but useless. Wrapping around him from all sides until he was choking.

He regretted not treating you the way one should treat a protected flower. To watch from the side and not pick. To watch from the side and not touch. To watch from the side and not ruin. He regretted it because, usually, his impulse was to touch, hurt, and destroy—and for some reason, only with you. Only because you smiled with your teeth and bought him coffee without him asking, because you remembered his order, because you let him use a free smoothie you were supposed to get during your shift, because you tried to teach him statistics in the sexiest way anyone has ever explained averages. Patrick always said that the most delicate and quiet girls are the sexiest, and Art always thought it was bullshit, because what’s sexy about silence? What’s sexy about calmness, and what’s sexy about insecurity? But then you came along. And he regretted that you got the chance to prove him wrong. And wrong again. And again.

And he’ll never tell you, but he woke up early and stared at you sleeping for the last ten minutes, maybe for the last hour, maybe he's been lying next to you for a month already, looking at your face. If you had woken up suddenly, you would have seen the regret smeared across his face like a badge of shame that would never give him peace. He couldn’t believe how many times he had stopped himself when he could have woken up like this, with you breathing deeply, clinging to his arm, completely carefree. The desire to let you keep sleeping turned into a need to touch you, to feel your face under his fingers. If he could, he would tuck you into his back pocket, tie you to a keychain, weave you into a necklace. And his hand gently brushed your cheek, part of him trying to wake you. To poke the bear. The bear that still doesn’t trust him. He knows his place now, he knows that trust is a complicated feeling, and that he hasn’t done anything to earn it. He knows he took and took and took, and even when he clearly saw you had nothing left to give, he knew he could still take more.

"Morning..." Your voice was hoarse from sleep as you blinked in his direction. He needed to get used to this. To learn new things about you. He didn’t think there were more things to learn. He was afraid to know more than necessary—more than what was needed to make the sex good. The sex had been good for a long time. He knew everything he needed for that. He knew your favorite position, knew where to kiss and where to bite, and where his tongue could do the work. He didn’t know that you rubbed your hand on your nose the second you woke up. He didn’t know what your voice sounded like before you had your first coffee. He didn’t know your eyes had a slightly different shade in the morning.

"Hey," his hand, which had been tracing odd shapes on your face, now gently tucked your hair behind your ear. "How do you feel?" he asked, trying to remember the last time he felt such an intense need to be gentle. The thought that you could break in his hands, like an irreplaceable porcelain vase, sent a shiver down his spine. How had he managed to suppress all of this until two days ago? How had he managed to push you into such a distant drawer? To believe that it was just sex. He had even imagined you with other men, sharing experiences with other people. Kissing someone else. Moaning someone else's name. He didn’t think anyone could say his name more beautifully than you did.

"I'm okay. Maybe I had a migraine? I thought I was coming down with something, but I probably exaggerated. I’m sorry you didn’t go home, I feel guilty." Your voice hadn’t fully steadied, but you looked at him with big doe eyes, and all he could do was smile.

"Don’t..." He lowered his head slightly on the awful bed you were sleeping on and looked at you at eye level. His nose brushed against yours in small movements as his hand settled on your waist. "Patrick and Tashi are here too. She has a match tomorrow, so I’ll get to see it." He said, seeing you nod, but something in your body language became tense. "I promised Patrick I’d have breakfast with him, is that okay?" he asked.

"You don’t need my permission to have breakfast with a friend, Art," you said, rolling your eyes, clearly unhappy with the question. In response, he chuckled and gave you a quick kiss on the lips, causing you to pull back almost reflexively. "I haven’t brushed my teeth, Donaldson, and I think we’ve slept for 24 hours."

"Are you implying I smell bad?" Art looked at you with amusement. "You have no idea how bad I smell," you declared, not breaking the playful gaze, as if issuing a new challenge. "So you don’t always smell like peaches? Disappointing. Makes me reconsider everything," he feigned surprise while standing up and quickly getting dressed. "I’ll see you later, Peaches? There's a party tonight, kind of a farewell thing for those still here and not planning to go home. Patrick will come too. It'll be fun," he stated, leaving you no choice as he walked out of the room before you could resist, like he knew you would.

'Wear the sexy dress.' -A- He didn’t wait long to send you that. . . . "So," Patrick looked smug as Art approached the cafeteria. "Anything you want to tell me?" he asked with a half-smile. "No, not exactly." Art sat down next to him with his tray, causing Patrick to roll his eyes. "Where did you sleep last night?" Patrick asked. "You slept at Tashi's," Art responded. "I know where I slept. Where did you sleep?" Patrick was starting to lose patience, not enjoying the fact that there was a whole part of Art's life he didn't know much about. "On a bed," Art said, taking the first sip of his coffee. "You're pretty pleased with yourself, huh? Tell me about the cheerleader, come on," Patrick laughed, unable to ignore the question lingering between them. "Cheerleader?" Art asked, raising an eyebrow.

"She knows nothing about tennis," Patrick stated. "Not everyone knows everything about tennis," Art shot back, looking at his best friend, who was so curious and yet so clueless. Something in Art knew that once Patrick saw you, he wouldn’t be able to let it go. He knew you were exactly what Patrick once wanted, before he met Tashi. And that wasn't why Art was interested in you. That wasn't why Art wanted to make you laugh and orbit around him. It was a nice bonus though. Patrick's curiosity and his need to be a part of everything were always a bonus. "What does she know?" Patrick asked, taking a bite of a sugary roll, managing to get sugar in his hair, which made Art reach out to wipe it off his cheek. Art just bit his lip for a moment and took another sip of coffee.

"You're evil," Patrick declared. He wanted details, and he wanted them now. "Let's just say all your theories about 'good girls' are right," Art said, unable to hold back when he saw Patrick's expression. He was gaping, unable to believe Art had what it took to get a girl like you. "What did she see in you?" Patrick asked. He didn’t mean it to sound mean, but he couldn't understand how someone who was embarrassed to look him in the eye during a tennis match could be with someone like Art. How could she even communicate with him? "I'm a catch," Art rolled his eyes. "A catch of diseases, maybe. I'm serious, Donaldson. Are you in a relationship with her? Should I start saving for the wedding?" he asked. He didn’t want the dry details of how they met. He didn’t want to know the whole history of their relationship. Patrick wanted to know if Art was fucking you. Art knew it, Patrick knew it. He wanted the sign he once gave Art about Tashi. He wanted to know if there was someone new he'd have to fight for Art's attention.

"She's a good friend," Art mumbled. He didn’t know how much he wanted to reveal you to Patrick. How much he wanted you in his best friend's head. Because he knew that if he exaggerated the details, if he told everything he could, Patrick would find a way to ruin it. Not out of malice. Out of pure selfishness. Out of the need to be number one in everyone's priorities. He'd find a way to take this thing Art had, that was just his, and destroy it. "A good friend you sometimes fuck," Patrick said, unable to hide his smile, causing Art to shake his head. "A good friend who's a good friend. She’ll be at the party tonight, so behave like a human," he said, giving Patrick a sharp look. One that didn’t leave room for jokes. "Maybe you should tell Tashi not to call her 'Stats Girl.' I don’t think she liked that," Patrick said in response, raising his hands in fake surrender. "She called her that?" Art looked horrified. "She's not a good cheerleader," Patrick mumbled, looking back at Art. He wasn’t afraid of the little challenge in this staring match. "She left in the middle of your match," he concluded. "Not everyone has to love tennis," Art replied, defensive. "True, but you love tennis," Patrick said, taking the last bite of the roll. Art didn’t wipe the sugar out of his hair this time. He didn’t care anymore. . . . I didn’t wear the dress Art told me to wear. Because, well, it’s Janet’s dress. I wore a different one, simpler but still revealing. Enough cleavage and thighs to define it as revealing, and to define me as someone who feels uncomfortable. At 9, Art still wasn’t in my room, and at 9:15, he texted me which building the party was in and said he was already there. That I should come. So casually. When I arrived, the place was surprisingly packed with people, considering most of the students were supposed to have already gone home. Someone passed by and burped, making me cringe and step away, trying to find Art among the crowd.

‘Where are you?’ –(Y/N)–

A few minutes passed, and he didn’t answer, so I found a corner free of people making out and stood close to the wall, scanning the room. “He’s with Tashi,” the half-familiar voice of one of Art’s friends sounded beside me. “Excuse me?” I mumbled, trying not to stare at the guy leaning against the wall, almost mirroring my movement. “He’s outside, talking to Tashi about her match tomorrow. You know, tennis,” he answered, and for once, I actually looked at him. His dark curls were the antithesis of Art Donaldson’s, but the smug smile, the one that knew secrets and wasn’t ready to share them with me, was almost identical. “Okay?” It was more of a question than an answer. I didn’t understand why he was telling me this. I didn’t understand the point of burdening me with this information.

“I asked him why we didn’t pick you up before the party, so you’d come with us too,” he spoke as if he were telling a bedtime story to a three-year-old, as if there was a moral to every sentence that came out of his mouth. As if I needed to listen and decode metaphors now, learning life anew from someone whose last name I didn’t even know. “Did he have an interesting answer?” I asked, not taking my eyes off him. “He said you two arranged to meet here,” Patrick replied. “Well, Pete,” we both knew I remembered his name, that I was trying to maintain some semblance of power even though the balance was currently against me, “he didn’t lie, if that’s what’s bothering you,” I rolled my eyes. And no, Art hadn’t said he’d pick me up, and we’d go to the party together, but I hadn’t even wanted to come. I’d have preferred to be in my dorm right now, working on my assignment or reading a book. I would have preferred not to see familiar but foreign faces, not to watch people making out in front of everyone and drinking themselves senseless.

“It’s Patrick,” he corrected me despite everything, “are you dating him?” he asked, his gaze fixed on my profile because I had stopped looking at him, trying to focus on everything around me instead. And I couldn’t say it was dating, because yesterday was the first time he suddenly decided I was important enough to call me 'girlfriend.' Important enough to treat me like a person and not like something that belonged to him, something he bought without spending much. “Why do you ask?” I answered with a question, because that was the only answer I had to offer. “Want something to drink?” he chuckled. Who chuckles these days? Why does he sound exactly like Art?! “No, I need to get up early tomorrow,” I replied. “One glass?” he insisted, closer to my ear now because the music was loud. “Okay,” I shrugged, not fully understanding the nature of this interaction or where Art was and why he told me to come to this stupid party if he had no intention of even saying hello.

Patrick came back with two red cups and handed me one. He tried to talk to me, but all I could do was stare at the entrance until Art walked in, deeply engaged in conversation with Tashi, not even bothering to look up to search for me. “I need to get up early tomorrow,” I mumbled suddenly, cutting Patrick off in the middle of explaining something about his tour and why he wasn’t in college because he decided to go pro. “It was nice talking to you,” I smiled the most genuine smile I could muster at that moment and peeled myself off the wall.

“He’ll always do this, you know that, right?” Patrick suddenly said. And there was a knowing look in his eyes and a serious expression, as much as he could muster. “Excuse me?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “He’ll always choose Tashi,” Patrick declared. “Isn’t she your girlfriend or something?” I asked, feeling my jaw tighten. I didn’t have to be nice to this guy. He was Art’s friend, not mine. Aside from offering me a drink, he hadn’t tried to be nice to me. In fact, in every opportunity he had over the last two days, he had been rude. “It was nice meeting you, cheerleader,” he concluded and walked toward Art, as if leaving me behind.

I felt the tightness taking over me. I took advantage of the fact that Art was no longer near the door to slip out of the party, allowing myself to let the tears fall on the way. “Hey, hey, Peaches. Wait a sec,” his voice sounded from afar, and I knew from the tone that he was panicking, that he realized too late what the situation was. “Are you getting off on humiliating me?” I asked, turning to face him. “I mean, what the hell did I ever do to you? What did I do besides love you that makes you treat me like this?!” My voice was mixed with sobs I was ashamed of. They broadcast weakness more than anything else. Art stood there, slightly open-mouthed. His eyes were glazed over and red from alcohol. “I, I was just talking to friends—” he started. “Why did you ask me to come to this party?” I asked, sniffling a little. “Because I wanted to spend some time with you, show you off,” he got closer to me, his hands finding their way to my cheeks, as if that were their natural place while his forehead pressed against mine, not taking his eyes off my face. “Yeah? How’s that going so far? Because in the hour I’ve been here, you didn’t even think it necessary to respond to my text.” I gently moved his hands off me and took a step back.

��I—” “You what? You’re going to keep trying to convince me I’m important? That you love me? That you talk about me with your grandma, and then treat me like I’m some old shirt you bought at a second-hand store and will throw away in two days?” I asked. “What the hell do you want from me, Art? Why won’t you just let me move on?” It was desperate. “Because I can’t. The thought of you moving on scares me,” he mumbled to himself. “It’s not my fault she doesn’t love you,” I said, wiping my tears. “You don’t have to make me feel like she makes you feel.” I looked at him, almost pleading. “You’re exaggera—” “I wore a nice dress. I came to a party I didn’t want to come to. I stood in a corner for an hour with your rude friend. While you were outside with someone you care about more than me, someone whose company matters more to you than mine. And that’s totally fine. Just let me go already,” I said firmly. . . . And as he watched you walk away, he realized exactly what he had lost. And he doesn’t know if it’s love, but he felt the pain in his bones. And if there’s one thing Art Donaldson is sure of, it’s that you deserve better.

Hi there, how are we all doing? This part was more chill on the smut stuff (sorry) but had more Patrick in it, and we got more of Art's pov. Tell me what you guys think. I still don't know if it's the end of the story. I think it might be. Maybe it's time to move on to other ideas and take some requests. I don't know yet. Feel like it's the end for these two. Anyway, tell me what you think. Hearing from you guys is always the best part <3

taglist: @lalalandofive @wild-rose-35 @theynothem @angelism13

#challengers fic #art donaldson #patrick zweig #art donaldson x reader #patrick zweig x reader #challengers #his favorite toy #art donaldson smut

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xplore-the-unknwn · 6 months ago

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The Core of the Planet of the Apes Franchise ft. Wes Ball (Director)

"Can Ape and Human live together? and I think what its really saying is Can two people who are different live together?"

Sci Fi’s purpose is always to question, test and challenge what we understand. And Planet of the Apes has always been a satire to the ego of humanity and their hunger for dominance. In a fictional world where Apes became the 'humans'/sentient intelligent species and men are likened to beasts. What kind of world will that look like? What kind of dynamic or relationships can that bring? and the Franchise has always been about asking that question.

Now enter our new main characters. Wes said the focus of the new movies will center around Noa and Mae’s very unique dynamic. A girl and a sentient ape both different but both similar in doing what they can to protect their loved ones.

and there’s nothing wrong if you get curious with how their relationship will develop. Is that something heinous? to root for a dynamic that can greatly influence the fictional world they live in?

tbh thats what the film WANTS- Make you curious. ASK THE QUESTIONS IT WANTS ASKED.

Peak storytelling. All I see is a Director smartly pinning the tension between these two main characters to further hook us to seeing more of the next films they’re making. A masterclass in creative writing too. With that we can ask the questions- If apes were sentient like humans how will we treat them? Who do we root for knowing human nature tends to be destructive? IF we understand each other’s differences can we learn from each other and live side by side? Circling back to the question-

Can Ape and Human live together?

And those questions will be answered through THEM- Noa and Mae.

Theres a-lot of importance in their dynamic and the future that they’ll bring with it. Will it be tragic or hopeful?

See, it intriguesss.

and thats Sci Fi’s purpose. That’s the Planet of The Ape’s message.

Also with the fandom ship or not ship yall just ENJOY this franchise and let its underlying messages speak to you. Thats what the filmmakers and actors behind this film would want too (I feel for them sm and see the passion to get this done and I just want to VOICE out that this beautiful movie and the characters they worked hard on are greatly appreciated)

#I love their dynamic theres alot of good writing between them #If those questions dont shake you to your very core then you better start reading more Sci Fi and get your minds blown more often #Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes #planet of the apes #pota #kotpota #noa #mae #pota noa #pota mae #wes ball #nomae #noamae #noa x mae #owen teague #freya allan #sci fi #franchise #analysis

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realmermaid333 · 2 months ago

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I love how the hunger games is about maintaining empathy and fighting for justice no matter what. But also how it is about perseverance.

All the surviving characters persevered. They found a way to be okay despite all of the horrors they'd been through. Despite them all losing everything they feared they'd lose. And they were still okay.

Katniss lost her sister even though she was terrified to lose her and did everything in her power to save her, including sacrificing herself. That's why this story started after all. And despite it, Katniss kept on going. She found hope and joy in Peeta, in the songs her dad taught her when she was a little girl, in the woods and the comfort they'd always bring her, she found hope in herself.

Peeta lost the version of himself that he so desperately clung to in beginning. And despite it, he still kept fighting and getting help until he could get better and pick up the pieces. He painted his memories, the good and the bad, and found joy in the little things. In the sunsets, in the smell of the breads he baked on his own terms without his cruel mother looming over him. He found joy in Katniss and the life they built together.

Haymitch lost his mom, brother, and girlfriend after surviving his brutal game and losing his district partner. And after years of rotting away and drowning himself with alcohol, he pulled himself together and showed up once Katniss and Peeta gave him hope. And despite it all he found comfort and joy in his geese and in Katniss and Peeta in the end. He still spent his days drinking, but this time he wasn't alone and he had to get out of bed each morning to tend to his feathered babies.

Annie lost Finnick even though she wanted nothing more than for him to be safe. Even though they'd just gotten married after finally being reunited. And she persevered anyway. She didn't let the darkness after his passing consume her like it did after she won her games. She became a mother and survived due to and for the love she had for her son. Like Katniss, Peeta, and Haymitch- she survived.

And I think that is tragic, yes, but also incredibly beautiful. There's always another way. Despite it all.

#the hunger games #thg #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #annie cresta #haymitch abernathy #Thg analysis #mermaid speaks

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spectrum-color · 1 year ago

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So we all know GRRM, like all authors, took a lot of inspo from real life fairy tales, religion, and mythology. There are a ton of parallels but I picked out a few to put in this poll

Propaganda: Before anyone says anything, I know a lot of these are dark spins on the original. I’m not trying to say Littlefinger is a handsome prince or whatever. Also note that some of this is based on either things that haven’t happened yet but are highly likely to happen in Winds/Dream up to and including being confirmed by GRRM.

Arya and Jaqen as Hades and Persephone-the young maiden of spring is found by the lord of the underworld, who gives her an object (in this case a coin) to trick her into being trapped in the world of the dead. When she leaves home, winter comes, but when she returns, so does spring.

Sansa as Rapunzel-a princess locked in a tower by an evil sorceress (or just queen) who is spirited away by a man who wants to marry her. Strong focus on her hair as a symbol of her identity.

The Brotherhood Without Banners as Robin Hood and his Merry Men-a band of outlaws who defend the common people against corrupt authority figures. This one is really self explanatory.

Cersei as the evil queen and Margaery/Sansa/eventually Dany as Snow White-a vain, cruel women terrified of her beauty fading and being replaced by a younger woman who outshines her, so she tries to destroy her perceived rival, ultimately leading to her own downfall. The girls in Snow Whites slot are the popular choices for the identity of the YMBQ and the one Cersei is currently convinced it is.

Jaime and Brienne as Beauty and the Beast-a double subversion. Jaime is handsome and Brienne is ugly, but when they meet she’s brave and kind while he’s selfish and cruel, so it’s the beast who helps the beauty be better.

Lyanna, Rhaegar, and Robert as Helen of Troy, Paris, and Menelaus-a beautiful woman fiercely desired by two powerful men, she either runs off with or is kidnapped by a prince, leading to her (soon to be) husband retaliating by starting a tragic war.

Stannis and Shireen as Agammemon and Iphegenia-a king and commander sacrifices his daughter to the gods to win a war. Bonus if this ends up causing Stannis’ downfall.

Lady Stoneheart as Demeter-a mother wanders the land bringing destruction and misery as she searches for her daughter(s.) When her daughters return to her, spring comes.

Cersei and Jaimes children as the emperor wearing no clothes-the emperor walks around naked insisting that he’s a wearing magic invisible outfit, but everyone is afraid to tell him the truth until finally a child points out that he’s wearing nothing at all. See: everyone pretending not to notice that Cerseis children are the result of incest with her brother, and Ned finally realizing the truth when his 11 year old daughter points out that Joffrey is nothing like Robert.

Bran as the Fisher King-the Fisher King is a character from Arthurian myth. He is the guardian of the magical holy grail, protecting it so it (and power) does not fall into the hands of the unworthy. Notably, he also has a deliberating injury to his legs or groin (depending on the version.) Of course the endgame Bran of the show is a blatant rip-off of Leto II from Children of Dune, but I think the Fisher King sounds more like GRRM would do.

Dany as Moses-a leader who has prophetic visions, who after performing a miracle, frees her people from slavery and leads them on a harsh journey to a new land. Notably regarded as a critically important figure by a monotheistic religion.

#a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #lyanna stark #rhaegar targaryen #robert baratheon #jaime lannister #cersei lannister #sansa stark #tommen lannister #joffrey lannister #myrcella lannister #arya stark #jaqen h'ghar #danerys targaryen #margaery tyrell #shireen baratheon #catelyn stark #I almost put jon as cinderella #but I feared the flame war it could kick off

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kingmaxstatic · 9 days ago

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Mainly putting this on my main blog because F/Ovember is currently happening on @staticshipstation (check that out btw)

But one of the reasons I have “if you villainize Amanda/Wooly DNI” is not only because.. well they’re my kids and I adore them. Like these are not villains these are my beautiful imperfect children.

But also because honestly?… I think it’d really hurt the story if either turned out to be true.

One of the reasons I love and adore ATA is its story and how fucking tragic and almost real it is. Guy with genuine heart and ambition wants to achieve his dreams (Sam) but some fuckass corporation taints his goal of wanting to help children (Hamlen). It’s the story of a shitty company doing shitty things to people who don’t deserve it.

And I’m sorry but having the wrench of “OH YEAH AND ALSO THE LITTLE GIRL/SHEEP ARE EVIL!!!” Is.. so out there and would honestly just be really awkward in the story.

Like are Wooly and Amanda perfect? By all means no. But people are acting like Wooly is some Disney twist villain from the 2010s or that Amanda is some spoiled brat. When the reality is that both of them, to an extent, are victims.

They just deal with their traumas VERY VERY differently.

Amanda keeps being invasive and even aggressive at times. This anger is justified, by all means, Jesus Christ. She deserves to be angry. But at the same time that doesn’t negate the fact she’s hurt people doing this, though it’s important to note that doesn’t mean her own pain doesn’t valid. Wooly tends to bootle shit up and push it to the side. When something in his so obviously wrong in front of him he hides it so deep. He’s scared it might trigger something and that he might get hurt.

These characters and the dynamic is just so deep and complex that the sudden twist of “OH AND WOOLY WAS WORKING FOR HAMLEN THE WHOLE TOME >:D!!” Or “AMANDA WAS ACTUALLY TRYING TO KILL YOU!!” In my opinion, minimizes everything set up.

I want to end this off by saying that anyone is valid for believing these theories, despite my qualms with them, I can understand how people came to these conclusions… however it’s just not content I really want to engage with personally.

#amanda the adventurer #wooly the sheep #ATA #oh wow I like games other than sonic CRAZY/JOKE

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eternalwanderer-stories · 2 months ago

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Maybe I belong to that very small group in the fandom.…

Honestly, I feel a little lonely with my thoughts when almost the entire fandom is obsessed with timebomb and jayvik, and I don't feel the same love for these ships.

This is in no way a hate post – it's great that the people who love these ships have so much content and so many like-minded people who can share the same point of view with each other. It's really cool.

So, jayvik.

I love Viktor so much, but I have quite contradictory feelings about Jayce and my attitude towards him jumps from "hey, you're actually a great and very interesting character" to "gosh, what a dumbass, why do you even have fans?". But perhaps what pisses me off the most is that when I want to talk about Viktor, about his own aspirations, about his character, about his ideals, for some reason the conversation always boils down to the topic of jayvik specifically in relation to them as a couple. It seems as if for some people Viktor exists solely as a part of jayvik, and not as an independent and separate character, or, even worse, just an addition to the Mel/Jayce/Viktor love triangle in order to be more gay-drama, apparently. Viktor seems to be lost as a separate character in all this. By the way, this also applies to Jayce, I see so little of him in the fandom as a separate personality, and not as part of any ships. In any case, my attitude towards jayvik in this case is more due to the attitude of some fans towards this ship than to the relationship of the characters within the ship itself. Maybe I'll change my mind about these two when I finally figure out how I feel about Jayce.

I have exactly 3 problems with timebomb:

I don't feel any romantic chemistry between Jinx and Ekko. We didn't have much interaction between them, but when it was – for me it was more like two childhood friends who were separated on different sides by terrible events of the past. On the whole, I see these two solely as a beautiful and tragic concept of "broken friendship, but there is still hope for reconciliation and the opportunity to understand each other."

I am so tired of the fact that in almost every show/series/movies if we have a male and a female character on the screen, there must be love between them. Seriously, the media pushing the idea every time that friendship between a boy and a girl, if possible, is only possible in childhood, but when you're adults, you either don't know each other, or you definitely have hot sex and three children at the end of the story. HELLO, what about friendship?? Why is friendship not valued at all compared to love??? Especially between a male and a female character? Why is it that the desire to take care of each other, the warm feelings between you, support and understanding must always be accompanied by a loving relationship, whereas this is the basis of a strong friendship too? But no, every time we have a girl and a guy in the show, who must definitely become a canonical couple (just remember at least 2-3 shows where everything didn't end on a romantic note, but they just remained very good friends in the end, without a wedding and children)… I'm really tired of how much the media devalues the friendship between a guy and a girl, elevating an exclusively love.

My personal conviction is that Vi, Ekko and Jinx should move their own way, independently of each other. Especially Ekko, who copes with leaving the tragic past in the past and boldly moving forward towards his future much better than the sisters do. But this is a separate conversation, which I want to return to later with a separate post.

#it seems I'm just a person who isn't fixated on romance in this show #please don't devalue friendship #I think I will eventually come to the final liking for Jayce #but so far I am only on the way to this #ekko #ekko arcane #ekko x jinx #timebomb #jinx #jinx arcane #viktor #viktor arcane #jayce talis #jayce x viktor #jayvik #arcane

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cuubism · 2 months ago

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last year I saw this 1989 Dreamling art by @webonchin, became extremely obsessed with it, pondered and mulled over it for much time, and now ten whole months later I have a fic

my kingdom for a kiss upon your shoulder

Chapters: 1/3 Fandom: The Sandman (TV 2022) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Hob Gadling, Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling Characters: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Hob Gadling Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Human, 1989 Hob Gadling and Dream of the Endless | Morpheus Meeting, Musician Dream of the Endless, Stockbroker Hob Gadling, Love at First Sight, Getting Together, New York City, Alternate Universe - 1980s, Queer Themes, Disillusionment, Explicit Sexual Content, Blow Jobs, Anal Sex, Recreational Drug Use, Depression, tfw you meet someone who makes you want to change up your whole life Summary:

Despite Hob's success on Wall Street, life is starting to feel meaningless. Limitless sex, drugs, and money should be endlessly entertaining but instead he's bored, he feels empty, like something's missing.

Something, maybe, like the beautiful, tragic musician he meets at a party, who opens more than one new door in Hob's life--and reawakens the buried longing in his heart.

Hob lies on the couch of the crowded apartment he’s found himself in for the evening, head tipped back over the arm. Pounding music thumps distantly around him. Dim lights. Warm bodies moving in blurs. He ignores it all. Picks up his vodka soda from the coffee table and takes a swig. Half of it runs over the side of his mouth instead of into it.

He’s… bored. What’s wrong with him that he’s bored surrounded by as much drugs, sex, and general debauchery as he could possibly want?

But he is. All that climbing for so long and now… he doesn’t know where he is. Why he’s doing any of it. The climb, the growth, was fun for a while. Chasing hunger, chasing more, that was fun. But now he has all of it. Supposedly.

He sighs. Pours the rest of his drink inelegantly into his mouth. If he wants another one he’s going to have to get up. He doesn’t really feel like getting up. He feels like merging himself with the couch instead.

The party spins on around him, as it always does. Not everyone’s feeling as burnt out on sex, drugs, and debauchery as Hob is.

He could go track down some coke, he thinks hazily. Someone here’ll have some. Maybe it would kick his energy back up.

He just feels kind of tired at the thought.

It says something bad about the point he’s reached in life that even cocaine isn’t doing it for him anymore.

“This is very dull,” says a low voice, and a man slumps down beside him, sitting on the floor and leaning back against the couch. He tilts his head back, looking up at Hob. “Do you think so?”

“Yeah,” Hob says, and then does a double take as he catches a proper look at the man.

Christ but he’s gorgeous. Nothing like the men Hob would normally see at a thing like this—nothing like Hob himself—with their fashionable suits, slick hair, slicker smiles. This man is lithe and sprawling, like a wild predator, stark black and white lines, spiky hair, dark makeup, studs flowing down his ears like raindrops. Clever eyes. Long fingers clutching a cocktail that he doesn’t seem particularly interested in.

Hob is instantly fucked.

“I was promised good drugs and better sex and I’m bored on both counts,” the man continues. He takes a sip of his drink, and grimaces.

“That why you’ve come over here?” Hob asks. “Because I looked equally bored?”

“Exactly.” He offers the drink to Hob. “You should try this.”

Hob takes it. It’s… very blue. “What the hell is this?”

“There was a girl working the bar… very drunk. She said she would make me her ‘special potion.’”

That sounds… questionable. Hob takes a sip, and chokes. “Christ.”

��I witnessed her pour in vodka, Prosecco, and tequila. Blue Curaçao—for color, of course. And maraschino cherries.” He plucks one out of the glass by the stem—there are about seven of them total—and eats it.

“What the fuck.” The stuff’s revolting. Hob takes another sip. “That’s alcohol poisoning in a glass.”

“It’s been one of the better parts of the night,” the man says.

Hob returns the glass, and the man tosses more of the drink back, his throat working. Hob’s just drunk enough to not attempt to stop staring like a creep. He wants to ask him if he wants to get out of here, or even just to steal away into one of the many spare bedrooms—it wouldn’t be out of place at a party like this, hell, Hob could drag him into his lap on the fucking couch, everyone’s far too drunk to care—but propositioning this creature for a mere hookup feels like wearing an Italian suit to mud wrestle. What a waste of a perfectly-made thing.

How did something like this wind up at this party?

“Who’d you come in with?” he asks, as the man plucks another cherry from the glass and delicately bites it off the stem.

“Someone who gave me a rather mediocre blowjob after a show,” he says. “I suppose I thought I would find better here, but I was mistaken.”

“Fifty-fifty shot on that, I’d say,” Hob says. Based on personal experience. Sometimes mediocre is good enough. Sometimes sex, regardless of quality, is good enough. For a while it has been. He’s not so sure anymore.

“I dislike betting,” says the man. Then stretches up a limp hand to shake Hob’s. “If we are to commiserate, perhaps names are in order. I am Morpheus.”

Morpheus. What kind of name. Though he had said at a show. A performer of some kind? “Hob,” says Hob, shaking his hand despite the awkward angle.

“Greetings,” says Morpheus solemnly. “You are the first man I’ve met tonight who has not tried to impress me with inanities. I am indebted to you.”

Hob tips his head back against the arm of the couch again with a sigh. “Too tired for bullshit. What’ve people been saying to you, then?”

“I have been taught much,” Morpheus says seriously. “Thrice I have been ‘educated’ on the great promise of ‘mortgage-backed securities.’ The reactions to my disinterest ranged from offense to outright concern for my sanity.”

“I think they were just trying to get in your pants,” Hob tells him.

Morpheus frowns. “The finance lecture was not helping their case. In fact, with each passing minute, I became more aggressively repelled.”

Hob laughs. “You’re on Wall Street, baby,” he says. It comes out kind of slurred. “Only thing more important than the size of a man’s dick is the size of his portfolio.”

Morpheus hums in consideration. “Neither of those has a direct correlation to talent.”

“Try telling them that,” Hob says.

Morpheus sits up straighter against the couch, leaning his head on his arm to study Hob. “I suppose I should ask about yours.”

“You’re too pretty for me to be tacky like that,” Hob says honestly. Maybe he’s a bit more drunk than he thought.

“Am I?” Morpheus seems pleased.

“So pretty.”

“Hmm.” Morpheus rests his cheek on the couch cushion. The tips of his hair brush Hob’s hip. His eyes are so liquid in this light. Hob wonders if he’s hallucinating his existence.

He reaches out, mesmerized, to touch Morpheus’s hair. Morpheus doesn’t stop him. He lets Hob pet him, eyes falling shut. His hair is tacky on the ends with hair spray, but soft underneath.

“I’ll tell you a secret,” Hob says, and Morpheus hums. “All those self-important stockbrokers trying to impress you with their convoluted financial instruments… they just want to hide that it’s all really a scam.”

“Is it now?” says Morpheus. “I was under the assumption it was legal.”

“Something can be a scam and technically legal. Oh, it’s all very clever. But it’s just building money on top of money with nothing real to support it. Kick out the base of the tower and it’ll all go into free fall.” He makes a whistling, falling sound, and Morpheus smirks.

“And I suppose you are better than all this.”

Hob chuckles. “Oh, no. I’m a money-grubbing little vermin, too. Just letting you in on the game. How it’s not so serious.”

“Hmm. I am a musician,” says Morpheus. As Hob figured, then. “I’m afraid it’s as serious as death.”

“Hence the all-black ensemble and the makeup,” Hob says.

“Indeed.”

Hob wants to hear Morpheus play. Or sing, or whatever it is he does. He bets he’d be exquisite. Divine. Hob can imagine those lips pressed to a microphone. Or those long fingers on guitar strings.

“Do you want something more interesting than alcohol?” says Morpheus.

“Why, you still bored?”

“Less and less so.” He pulls from his pocket a small bag of pills and hands it to Hob.

“You brought your own drugs to a party where you were promised drugs?”

“Promises cannot be counted on,” says Morpheus seriously.

“What is it?” Hob asks, then decides he doesn’t care, and takes a pill, chasing it with the watery last drops of his drink, which is a terrible idea, but then, he’s full of them.

“Ketamine,” says Morpheus. Oh, great, Hob thinks. Morpheus takes it back from him and takes a pill himself. “It occasionally makes me feel less like I am going to hurl myself from the balcony.”

He doesn’t seem to be joking. “Good for something, then,” Hob says. “Why do you want to jump off the balcony?” He still has his hand in Morpheus’s hair. He honestly can’t believe he hasn’t propositioned him yet. That’s not like him. These parties are usually only good for quick, casual sex. He even thinks Morpheus would probably agree, and yet.

“The state of things,” says Morpheus. He has such a deep, solemn voice. Hob wants to touch his mouth, or throat maybe. Okay, this is already not going so well. “And the state of my heart.”

Hob pets his hair again. Morpheus leans into the touch. “Writing songs about yearning and angst and stuff isn’t fixing it?” He can well enough guess what Morpheus’s music is probably like.

“No,” says Morpheus. He seems to really think about it. “I think it is making things worse. Perhaps I will try manipulating the financial markets instead. Is that giving you existential fulfillment?”

“There’s only so much money you can make before it starts feeling stupid,” Hob says. Maybe he should just throw all his cash out the window and go live in the woods or something. Carve figurines out of fallen trees. Probably do more good for the world, not that that’s ever been a focus of his. “Maybe it was always stupid.”

“No solution has been found for us yet, then,” says Morpheus. “Would you care to go outside? I find that if you are high enough, the city lights look like stars.”

“You’re not going to jump off the balcony, are you?” Hob asks, suspicious.

“This is not the right locale for my dramatic end.”

Somehow, Hob actually believes him. Morpheus wouldn’t truly kill himself unless it could have the right effect.

Hob levers himself up from the couch. Oh Jesus, now the room is spinning. The pounding music is starting to feel louder, starting to thud through him. Feels good, though. Everything being bright and hazy.

He helps Morpheus to his feet. Leads him, hand in hand, out to the balcony. They lean against the stone wall, looking down at the street, dizzyingly far below, cars poking along like lines of luminescent ants, distant horns crying. Then up, out at the collision of skyscrapers.

Morpheus was right. The lights are spinning and twinkling, just like stars. It reminds Hob of the first time he’d come to New York, when he was looking for adventure, and to get a little rich—or a lot rich—and everything had seemed like it was glowing and buzzing and flying.

The air is clearer up here than down on street level, and Morpheus tips his head up, breathing it in. His throat is so long, his shoulders and collarbone so angular. He looks like he’s been starving. But the stud in his ear at least looks from afar like a real ruby. Intentional, then, to be skin and bones.

“I think I am tired,” he admits, still looking up at the sky. “Do you know that… all I had ever wanted was for someone to like my music. And now I have that and it has not fixed anything.”

Hob takes his arm and pulls him close. He’s feeling very touchy-feely now, which could be the drugs but could also just be Morpheus. He’s so pretty and he looks so sad, and his sadness is beautiful and all the more terrible for that.

“I could kiss it better,” he offers. It’s still not a real proposition. Hob’d just kiss his hand if that’s what he wanted. Or the sharp bone of his sternum under those hanging necklaces. Or kneel at his feet and kiss his thigh—

Christ. Hob’ll be lucky if he survives the night, at this rate.

Morpheus looks at him, eyebrow raised. But Hob must look serious about it, because he says, “Okay.”

So Hob leans in and kisses his cheek. And Morpheus smiles, a bright, truly happy smile, just for a moment.

“Do you wish to dance?” he says. “I do not usually, but I feel I may fall over if I move from this wall without something to hold onto.”

Yeah, the floor is kind of moving. And Hob will certainly not turn down having Morpheus in his arms. “You wanna dance to this shit?”

They’re playing some godawful thumping grating song over the speakers now, and Hob doesn’t think either of them is up to the kind of bouncing thrashing dance that would call for.

“I will sing something different in your ear,” Morpheus says.

So Hob draws him in, wraps his arms around his waist. Morpheus plasters himself to Hob’s body, mouth to the shell of Hob’s ear. He starts humming a low, melancholic song. Hob shivers at the brush of his voice.

They sway together with very little coordination. Eventually Morpheus starts singing, though Hob’s brain isn’t capable at the moment of taking in many of the lyrics. It’s something about longing, and losing things in a terrible fire. Hob presumes it’s one of his songs. Morpheus’s voice is gorgeous, low and hypnotic, and Hob closes his eyes as it rumbles straight through him.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs eventually, filled with a sudden tragic pain about it. “Please don’t throw yourself off the balcony.”

Morpheus chuckles. “Another time, perhaps.”

“Never,” Hob says vehemently, and clutches his warm body close. He might cry about it. Fucking drugs. “We should go get food. You’re so fucking bony I think might you die of an overdose if we don’t sop it up. You had that wretched drink, too. Christ.”

“You are worried for me?” says Morpheus, sounding touched.

“Incredibly. Come on.” Hob finally pulls away from him, with chagrin, and takes his hand. “This party’s shit. I’ll take you to get pizza.”

“Pizza,” Morpheus repeats, with a tiny smile. It’s gorgeous on his face. “Very well.”

One dollar pizza is one of New York’s greatest inventions, in Hob’s opinion. They find some hole-in-the-wall place barely a block from the apartment building, and stand outside the door, eating incredibly greasy pizza off of paper plates, and it’s fucking heaven. It might be the best pizza Hob’s ever had in his life—granted he’s still very high.

Morpheus is scarfing his down like all pizza on earth is about to be chucked into space. Poor bony thing. Hob just wants to feed him up until he stops looking like a skeletal waif that’s about to drop dead at a cold breeze.

And wants to fuck him, too. Yeah, that’s still there, even with Morpheus licking grease off his fingertips. It’s actually getting worse because of that.

“Told you,” Hob says. “Needed some bread to soak up the fifteen shots in that drink.”

“I think I may throw up,” Morpheus says, with the careful articulation of someone who very well might. “But I am enjoying it nonetheless.”

“Let me know and I’ll find you a bin,” Hob says. He’s had worse nights than puking on the street corner.

“Now I owe you sexual favors in return for this generous meal,” says Morpheus, folding the empty paper plate with surprising precision, considering his enduring level of intoxication, and sliding it into a nearby trash bin.

It says something about Hob’s own level of intoxication that he barely responds to this statement. “Oh, yeah, the whole four dollars of it. What does that get me?”

Morpheus scrunches his nose in thought. “Two kisses,” he decides.

“We’ll save it for after you’ve decided if you’re going to throw up.”

Morpheus giggles. He’s so cute.

Hob tosses his own plate, and takes Morpheus by the arm. “Come on. You can come back with me. I don’t live that far.”

“Ah, now the proposition,” says Morpheus, but doesn’t sound unhappy about it.

“The ‘make sure my new friend doesn’t get hit by a cab effort’, more like, but sure.” He feels kind of responsible for Morpheus now. If Morpheus actually threw himself off a balcony Hob would never forgive himself.

“Friend,” repeats Morpheus, sounding pleased.

“See, isn’t this better?” Hob says.

“Better?”

“You got to eat pizza and didn’t even puke yet, isn’t that better than killing yourself?”

Morpheus huffs. “Quite a dichotomy. If you recall you too stated that you felt your efforts becoming meaningless.”

“Yeah, but I’m not gonna jump out a window about it.”

“Fortitude,” Morpheus says, and it sounds mocking but Hob doesn’t really mind. Maybe it is fortitude, he doesn’t know. Maybe to Morpheus fortitude is gullibility, continuing to play the game when it’s long lost its spark and its reward. Hob likes the game, though.

“What will you do about it, then?” Morpheus asks.

“Dunno.” It’s the first time Hob’s really thought about it. Up until now, it’s been about chasing. Always wanting more. But now— now he’s basically at the top. Where he wanted to be. And... there’s really nothing there at all. “Leave New York, maybe.”

The words surprise him, even as he says them. Midtown is so bright, even at four a.m. It’s something Hob once loved about the area. About the city. But now he’s staring into Morpheus’s darkness. Into the ink stain of his hair against the glowing storefront lights, the sway of his body, graceful even while swimming in dissociation. And everything feels different.

“To go where?” says Morpheus.

“Back to London, maybe.” He has enough money to go anywhere. And yet, it’s hard to feel a particular point to anywhere. Where’d his sense of adventure go? His ambition? Somewhere it all slipped, in the glut of the present.

“I grew up in London,” Morpheus says. “It is too personal there, now.”

So he’s chasing something too. Or running away.

“Tokyo, then,” Hob says, as if Morpheus coming with him is a key part of the decision. “Is’at the furthest city from New York? Gotta be close.”

“It’s Perth,” says Morpheus.

“You’ve looked it up?”

Morpheus nods solemnly. “And from London: Wellington.”

“It’s settled, then,” says Hob.

“I am coming with you?” says Morpheus.

“Course.” Hob’s not going across the world by himself. Not anymore. He bumps his shoulder with Morpheus’s, squeezes his arm where they’re leaning together. “You’re coming with me.”

“We should go further, then,” says Morpheus.

“Antarctica?”

“Mars.”

Hob finds himself giggling, mirth rising in him like champagne bubbles. Morpheus giggles, too. It’s truly a ridiculous sound in his deep voice.

“They don’t have cool jackets on Mars,” Hob says, poking at Morpheus’s studded blazer.

“Ah.” Morpheus frowns. “Maybe not, then.”

That only makes Hob laugh louder, leaning on Morpheus’s arm, and Morpheus sighs, irritated to be made fun of, but doesn’t push him away.

“Come on, I’m here,” Hob says, steering Morpheus into his apartment building as it comes up. They make their way across the lobby and to the elevator bank, only a little unsteady, and then slump against the wall once the elevator doors close.

“I think I am very sleepy,” Morpheus says, tipping his head back against the mirrored wall as they go up, up, up the insanely tall skyscraper Hob’s for some reason chosen to live in.

“You think you are?”

Morpheus squints at the infinite tunnel being created by the opposing mirrors on the walls. It’s dizzying, more so now, when they aren’t exactly sober. He shudders and closes his eyes. “I would have to be connected to my physical form to know for sure.”

Yeah, Hob’s feeling that too. The walls are kind of tipping in at him, which is particularly uncomfortable when they’re mirrored. “I’ll put you to bed, sweetie.” He still really, really wants to bed him, more specifically, but he might also be about to fall over. He’ll rue the missed opportunity in the morning, but it can’t be helped.

“Sweetie,” Morpheus echoes, with vague distaste, and tips his head against Hob’s shoulder.

The doors slide open, and they stumble out into the hall. Hob somehow manages to get his keys in the door and get them inside without dropping Morpheus, who’s now using him to support almost his entire weight, and then gets them into the bedroom.

What follows is a dreamlike whirlwind of undressing, where the floor keeps tipping under him, where he tries to hold Morpheus up as he slips out of his boots and his bloody complicated jacket, his skintight jeans and even tighter shirt, helps take each ring off his slim fingers to leave carefully on the nightstand, and the pendants too, and gives him a t-shirt to sleep in, and Morpheus says, “Wait— I must—” and flees to Hob’s adjoining bathroom to strip off his makeup with some makeup wipes scavenged from Hob’s cabinet, undoubtedly left behind by a prior hookup. The silly thing talks about killing himself but still puts effort into skincare. Hob just shakes his head, then regrets it as it makes the room spin.

He strips down to boxers and undershirt and climbs into bed, because he is actually about to fall over, and soon enough Morpheus stumbles back out and collapses into the sheets beside him. For a moment they just gaze at each other in the dark. Hob means to do something, to kiss him, maybe, claim one of the ones that was promised. But exhaustion claims him first.

#dreamling #my writing #80s au #cw drug use #cw alcohol

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timesomewhere · 2 months ago

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in honour of the West End's next to normal closing today I've finally proof-read my 'things I noticed/general thoughts' post that's been sitting in my drafts since I saw it earlier this month. it's very long I'm very sorry.

Act One:

it was really fun watching this show in September given that there's two references to it in the first song

I adore the monologue about the pills that Dr. Fine gives during 'Who's Crazy'. it's rhythmic and funny yet also unnerving. It's such a quick and impactful way to summarise what Diana has been through for the past 16 years

Gabe does a 'one of your French girls' pose on the kitchen counter under the cabinets during 'My Psychopharmacologist and I'

Jamie Parker made direct eye contact with me during the last part of 'Who's Crazy' and it was one of the most intense experiences of my life

I might just be dense but I don't get the point of the neon sign that says 'Fine' which drops down during the Dr. Fine scene. Initially I thought that then one would drop down saying 'Madden' during his scenes to help people differentiate between the doctors but then it didn't so it just feels like a weird extra prop

speaking of random props, shout out to the iPad on the table in the opening scene which Gabe pretty much instantly takes away after telling Diana that she shouldn't obsess over tragic news stories and is then never seen again as far as I remember

Dan in the flashback scene being such an optimist about Diana's pregnancy and the future they're gonna have together... soul-crushing

Caissie Levy's 'I Miss The Mountains.' Holy Shit.

I love how Diana and Gabe are the only characters who sing on/stand on the table. it's as though it's this extra dimension of the house that only they have access to and it's a really neat and subtle way to show that they relate to each other in ways other characters don't

'It's Gonna Be Good' is so underrated. Jamie Parker's somewhat genuine optimism becoming optimism-through-gritted-teeth is incredibly acted

The way Jamie delivers the first line of 'He's Not Here' is devastating. the heaviness of that moment as you feel the audience around you realising what's just happened is something I'll remember forever

Gabe body-blocking Dan from Diana during 'I Am the One' is such good staging. People talk about how Jack Wolfe plays Gabe with a lot of layers and a lot of simultaneous contradiction and this song is one of the best examples of that. how Jack manages to project a character who is goading his father and protecting his mother at the same time is beyond me

also Jack has maybe half-an-inch on Jamie which obviously isn't something the actors control but it does makes Gabe seem just that bit more threatening when he's getting in Dan's face

for the first part of Superboy and the Invisible Girl when it's just Natalie singing, Gabe is actively laughing. He's totally unperturbed by her efforts to make herself seen to her mother. it's only when Diana replies, particularly when she says "you're our little pride and joy, our perfect plan" that you see his face drop and you see him trying to figure out a way to stop her from getting Diana's attention which then results in him kicking her off the melody in her own song

"I'll hurt you" being directed at Dan and "I'll heal you" being directed at Diana as Gabe gently touches her face gets me so bad. but the most painful part of 'I'm Alive' for me is when Gabe looks at Dan as he says "I'm the perfect stranger who knows you too well." that's the first time you realise that perhaps Gabe doesn't just impact Diana, and there's something much larger at play

Caissie and Jack W's voices harmonising on 'Catch Me I'm Falling' was one of my favourite parts of the whole show. Their voices are so magical together and their mother/son chemistry is incredible

The 'I Dreamed A Dance' into 'There's a World' sequence is one of the most tragically beautiful things I've ever witnessed. I went into the show knowing what Gabe was trying to achieve during 'There's A World' and yet Jack's voice is so beautifully haunting you totally forget you're supposed to root against Gabe in that moment

Jamie Parker's 'I've Been' is some of the best acting through song out there. Interestingly my friend and I had very different interpretation's of what Gabe's horrified reaction to the blood meant. I viewed it as him being upset about what he convinced Diana to do - he doesn't like seeing her hurt. Whereas my friend saw it as him being angry at himself that she didn't manage to follow through, meaning that he has failed to regain control over her life

'I'm no sociopath, I'm no Sylvia Plath. I ain't no Frances Farmer kind of find for you' is one of the best musical theatre lyrics of all time. I genuinely don't know why I Miss The Mountains is the 'big song' known from N2N over 'Didn't I See This Movie?', it's just so good

Natalie's 'She trusts you!' line is heartbreaking, I was basically watching that entire scene through my fingers because of how high the emotion was

Act Two:

'Pfizer's woman of the year' will in fact be peak comedy every time. Eleanor's delivery is *chef's kiss*

Gabe having just one line in 'Wish I Were Here', and that line being 'Wish I were here.' Yeah. I feel very normal about that.

Natalie's line of "Can I hide my stupid hunger, fake some confidence and cheer?" being pretty much exactly what Gabe has done throughout the entirety of act 1

"And you're not a scary rockstar anymore" got one of the biggest laughs at both of the shows I went to

Dan's desperation during 'Better Than Before.' He is simultaneously trying to cajole Diana into remembering and get Natalie to be more positive. This one song really highlights how he's being pulled in a million different directions while trying to hold it all together and Jamie portrays that so well

Aftershocks. Wow. The way the last word of each line echoes throughout the theatre is great sound design. I've been in exam halls louder than the audience during that song. Holding a room that captive as a silhouette is quite the feat Jack Wolfe you will always be famous

"I don't know where the fucking pieces go" as Diana pushes things off the table as if there's a real jigsaw there that she's rage quitting and choosing to give up on is such a nice detail

"Have you talked of your depression, your delusions and your son?" The gasp in the theatre both times was sickening

the response of "good' in reply to "name?" when technically that was part of his name as they are the "Goodmans". I don't really have a point here I just think it's neat

The 'It's Gonna Be Good" reprise was one of my favourite Dan/Diana moments. Caissie and Jamie are really pushing each other to their emotional limits and they handle it so well

The first "Why stay?" is so fragile as Diana sits against the kitchen island. Also interesting given that Dan and Gabe will also sit against there later when they are at their lowest point in the story. The idea of the characters crawling to the 'centre/heart' of the home when they are at their weakest

"This is one old game that I can play so well" is the line that has stuck the most with me throughout the show. Jack's delivery of it while striding across the kitchen table - seemingly totally invincible - is crazy.

how Caissie manages to deliver "you shrugged and said that no one really knows" with humour and desperation at the same time is amazing

When Gabe and Diana stand on the table and if they let go of one another they'll fall. yeahhhhh.....

Gabe's realisation that Diana isn't going to give up on getting better. Totally collapsing in on himself and beginning to cry. How you manage to feel bad for him after all the destruction he's caused is wild

Diana's "maybe I'm tired of the game" relating back to Gabe's "this is one old game that I can play so well"

the lyrics in 'Hey #3' clearly reflecting things Diana has done, Henry cutting Natalie off at "bleeding in the bathtub"

"I am the one who'll heal you" being said to Dan not Diana this time

"Why didn't you go with her?" is the most devastating line in the whole musical I said what I said. Jamie's delivery of it is heart wrenching

the drums and bass kicking in for the loud part of I Am The One as Gabe becomes desperate to be seen once again

Jack and Jamie's acting in this moment is so intense. there's a moment where it's genuinely feels as though only one of them can make it out of the interaction alive

Jack's emphasis on the word 'loved' in the line "I am the one who loved you" nearly killed me on the spot. how somebody can deliver a line so desperately while remaining pitch perfect is unfair

Natalie coming in to kiss Dan's head at the start of 'Light' like Gabe kisses Diana's in the first scene. I'm such a sucker for a gut punching

the "And are they real?" line about Diana's parent's from Henry gets such a loud reaction from the audience. Some people laugh immediately, some people clearly get shocked out of their sobs. so good

In conclusion, this is my favourite musical of all time and I'm going to be so annoying waiting for the pro-shot to come out

#next to normal #next to normal uk #next to normal west end #caissie levy #jamie parker #eleanor worthington cox #jack wolfe #trevor dion nicholas #jack ofrecio

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evil-women-step-on-me · 10 months ago

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How Hand Jumper Treats Gender

Most of the manga/manhwa I read default to the male gaze. I don't even mean that the female characters are needlessly sexualized, which they often are, but that they're only allowed to fill certain roles. Holy figures and healers are (young, impossibly beautiful) women, the tragic, innocent character who gets assaulted is a woman, the skimpily dressed ninja is a woman, the pure, younger sibling that needs protection is a woman, the seductive villain is a woman, the extremely powerful fighter that will nonetheless always be second in strength to the male lead is a woman. Upskirt shots and carefully framed ass/boobs panels abound. Their characterization can be shallow: especially in action and thriller series, the motivations of female characters are rarely given the same consideration that male characters receive.

Hand Jumper is different. First, female characters are taken just as seriously as male ones, in every way possible. Second, a character's gender does not influence their power level. While it's true that cis men are physically stronger than cis women in the real world, "men are always stronger than women" does not make sense in fantasy action contexts. Why are all the most powerful heroes in My Hero Academia men? Why must all the notable healers in Naruto be female ninja? In worlds where people possess honest to God magical superpowers, power is totally divorced from the density of your muscles. This is true of Hand Jumper's world as well, so it treats its characters appropriately: Male and female Aberrants fight on equal ground. As a result, some of the most prestigious Aberrant positions are held by women: Samin is the leader of the Crimson Society, Cell 4's instructor and mentor are both women, and Sayeon's mother Sara is so mysterious and so powerful that she seems close to godly. Sara's treatment is especially interesting, given that she's filling a role usually reserved for men: the mysterious, legendary parent of the protagonist who left their life when they were still a child. Think Gon's father in HxH, Baki's father in Grappler Baki, Naruto's father, the Joestars in JoJo, or Luffy's father in One Piece. In Hj, it's not the mother, but the father who is drowned out in the shadow cast by his spouse.

Personalities, fantasy power levels, and interests are not inherently gendered! So Hand Jumper doesn't treat them as gendered either. The bubbly, cheerful member of the main group is usually a girl, but this time it's Iseul Kim. The pretty, androgynous Min is both a deadly weapon and a baker of cute pastries- he picks up Sayeon in a bridal carry after a fight, and incredibly, it's not framed as a romantic gesture. Lastly, the aggressive, jaded rival to the protagonist is usually male, but this time it's Ryujin Kang. This position being filled by a female character is so unusual that I remember the comments section being filled with people mistaking Ryujin for a boy, even though she was clearly presented as a woman from the start. Part of this confusion is probably fueled by how Ryujin has a lot of… tension with Sayeon, tension usually found in heterosexual enemy-to-lover relationships. And Sayeon herself? She's on a crusade to avenge her childhood friend, a damsel in distress who died in Episode 2. Somehow, in Hand Jumper, the tragic dead lover that needs avenging is a man.

#hand jumper #women in comics #manhwa/manga writing needs to be held at a higher standard #I firmly believe sayjin is canon #male characters also suffer from how they are restricted in manga/manhwa #esp how they are often characterized as cool and invulnerable and nothing else #maybe I should finally read worm #webtoon

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chlorinecake · 1 year ago

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PART 1: GHOST FACE YANDERE imagine

ＢｌｏｏｄＯｎＩｃｅ | 얼음에 피 - a park sunghoon ff

⚡︎ cw: mentions of suicide, violence, bullying, character deaths, swearing, underage drinking, unprotected sex, bad ending lol, ft. ive’s WONYOUNG and le sserafim’s KAZUHA

⚡︎ summary: sunghoon seeks revenge against the girls that bullied his little sister in high school, leading up to her tragic suicide

⚡︎ wc: 8.3k ~ read part 2 here!!

three years ago

For Sunghoon Park, death was hardly a foreign concept. He committed his first murder around the age of eighteen, the victim being a fellow athlete from his ice skating team, Cha Jun-Hwan. The dynamic pair maintained a solid friendship since the day they met, up until Sunghoon’s sixteen-year-old half-sister, Wonyoung, blossomed into a beautiful young lady. She stopped wearing glasses and got her braces removed, but most importantly, she was confident in her own skin. “You’re more beautiful than any princess I’ve ever seen, Wonyo. Don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise,” Sunghoon would encourage her every day in front of her vanity mirror. “Thank you, Sunghoon-ah! You always know how to cheer me up” she’d smile, patting his head as she left for school.

Eventually, Wonyoung started dating Jun-Hwan behind Sunghoon’s back. Their secret relationship went on for about 3 months before Sunghoon caught them during a half-naked-make-out session in Wonyoung’s bedroom. She sat on the edge of her bed as if frozen, wearing black gym shorts and a pink bralette. Jun-Hwan was topless as well, with Wonyoung’s love bites decorating his bare chest. A mix of rage and disgust burned being Sunghoon's eyes. Grabbing a large pillow to cover her exposed figure, Jun-Hwan rambled on, “Sunghoon, I can explain! We meant to tell you sooner, but-“

“Get the fuck out of my house before I kill you,” Sunghoon threatened sharply, before an embarrassed Jun-Hwan ran out the door, leaving the Park siblings to figure things out.

Some time passed, and rumors about Wonyoung ran rampant throughout her high school, most of which being initiated by Jun-Hwan himself. An immeasurable pity birthed within Sunghoon whenever he’d hear the muffled sobs coming from his sister’s bedroom at night as she struggled to get any sleep. He wanted Jun-Hwan to pay for the pain he’d brought upon her.

The plan was simple, really.

Sunghoon made it look like a camping trip gone wrong, killing off four of his teammates including Jun-Hwan in the woods. He made it look like a vicious bear attack, which surprisingly fooled the police, leaving him scot-free.

Sunghoon went on to quit his dreams of becoming an Olympic champion, pursuing the academic route instead.

Though, Wonyoung’s torment was far from over.

A group of mean girls called her names like “piranha pussy” and “semen demon” after Jun-Hwan’s death, claiming that she supernaturally killed him during intimacy. Suffering from constant scrutiny at school and grieving the loss of her first boyfriend, despite all that he'd said about her, Wonyoung was driven to commit the unspeakable, and took her own life. Her body was buried soon after, with posts like “Gone too soon” and “fly high, princess 🕊️🎀” pinned on everyone’s socials, including the mean girls.

After his sister's death, Sunghoon was never the same. His innate will to kill only grew stronger as the years went by. He made a promise to Wonyoung on her funeral, saying that he would someday avenge her no matter how long it'd take him.

➠ three years later, wednesday

“Sunghoon is hosting a party at his place this Friday night. Wanna come?” Your friend Kazuha asked you from her end of the phone. She developed a habit of face timing you whenever she was in the mood for a movie. You were busy scrolling through Netflix catalogs from the comfort of your couch, searching for a descent film.

“Sunghoon Park?” You inquired at the familiar name.

“The sad rich kid whose sister committed suicide after her boyfriend died? Yes, that guy,” she said, struggling to open a jar of pickles.

“Ugh, I could totally use your feminine power muscles right now," she cried, her face contorting as she fought with all her might to release the tight lid.

“That sounds kinda gay, Kaz.”

“Only for you, ____,” she winked playfully before searching her kitchen drawers for a butter knife.

“I mean, are you sure he’s okay with us coming considering how we treated his little sister?” You stopped your scrolling, putting the tv remote down on the coffee table.

“It’s not our fault she couldn’t handle a few jokes.” Kazuha retrieved the lost butter knife from the dishwasher, walking back to the counter,

“Doesn't it make you feel guilty sometimes?”

“C’mon, ____, that was ages ago! And besides, we were kids, we didn't know any better,” she lied, neglecting the fact that you were both well informed of the life-threatening dangers that came with bullying. Kazuha was just having a hard time admitting it.

You were quiet for a moment. How could she be so insensitive?

“Whatever," you mumbled, reaching for the remote again, swiping through the horror movie section. "What’s the hype around this party for, anyways?”

“It’s a costume party, silly!”

Although you were on movie-hunting duty, this conversation was starting to make you sleepy.

“Girl? Are you yawning?”

“Give me a break, Kaz! It's past my bedtime, now pay attention to your pickles,” you joked, rubbing the urge to sleep from your eyes with your free hand.

“It’s the last week of summer break. Don’t let productivity get in the way of your fun before school starts again,” Kazuha protested in both her defense and your favor.

You meditated on her words for a moment before answering.

“Ugh, fine! Only if you promise to join me at the mall for some early morning costume shopping,” you negotiated, pointing a finger at her through your phone.

“Yay!” She cheered, bouncing around her kitchen in a fit of joy, accidentally knocking the glass jar of pickles unto the floor.

“Dammit,” she swore under her breath, running out of frame to likely grab a mop or broom.

Ring. Ring.

You glanced from the tv, taking a quick peek at your phone: Unknown Caller ID.

Hanging up, you proceeded to scroll through Netflix.

Ring. Ring.

The same number was calling you again.

Kazuha was now back in frame, both her broom and mop keeping her hands occupied.

“You can call me back after you check that, if you want.”

“No worries, it’s just some random unknown number that can’t find a hobby.”

“Oooo, spooky,” she said in a teasing voice.

You hung up the incoming call, only for it to call you back once again. Now you were curious.

“Uhm, I’m gonna call you back, Kaz,” you said before hanging up.

“Kk!”

You answered the unknown caller, holding the phone up to your ear.

“Hello?” You asked.

“I’ve been dying for you to answer.”

“Yeah? And how’re you feeling now?”

“Honestly, I’ve been better. What’re you up to?”

“Looking for a good movie to fall asleep to.”

“Really? What genre?”

“Dunno. Probably something scary.”

“Do you like scary movies?”

Yikes. These prank callers really needed to step up their scare game. You decided to play along.

“Yeah, I guess I do.” It took everything in you not to cackle at how ridiculous you sounded. This mystery man was truly a recycled character.

“Hmm, you never told me your name, by the way.”

“Hmm, and I don’t think I will.”

“Oh, it’s because you have a boyfriend, isn’t it?”

“Nooo. Now tell me, why do you want to know my name? Huh?”

“So I can know who I’m looking at.”

You rolled your eyes at his cliche script.

“Right, so anyways, I’m gonna hang up now and you can just…uh, I don’t know, touch yourself til you’re content again.”

“Don’t hang up on m-“

What a loser, you thought to yourself, calling Kazuha back.

“Hi! What did they want?”

“It was just some nerd trying to prank call me.”

“No way. Did he sound hot?”

“Kaz, do you wanna watch this stupid movie or not?”

“Fine, fine, I’ve got my pickles and everything. Now press play!”

➠ thursday

Another easy day spent between you and Kazuha went by. After raiding the strip mall’s clothing shops (and food courts) in search of the sexiest party costumes available, you two agreed on an “Angel x Devil” duo theme. Kazuha chose the devil costume, handing you the sparkly white halo from the angel set. “It’s giving Victoria’s Secret,” Kazuha said, checking herself out in the changing room mirror before striking an awkward pose. You could tell she was trying to lighten the mood, but you couldn't get over how uncomfortable the revealing outfit made you feel. You and Kaz used to slut shame girls who dressed like this, only to turn around and do the same thing yourself. This whole experience felt hypocritical. “I look like an attention-whore,” you said to the mirror, a pitiful expression waving over your features. Kazuha walked over to you, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Cheer up, ____. You’re more beautiful than any attention-whore I’ve ever seen, and don't you ever let someone tell you otherwise,” she smiled, kissing you on the head.

“Yay, how flattering.”

“No, I’m serious. We’re gonna be sophomores next semester. How long is it gonna take before we explore our scandalous side? Unless you plan on dying a virgin.”

Oh, the horror.

You considered her words for a moment, giving yourself one more look in the mirror.

“I guess this corset makes my boobs look pretty nice…”

“That’s the spirit! Now c’mon my child. Follow sugar mommy Zuha to the register,” she cheered in a high pitched voice, collecting the clothing tags and paying for your costumes.

➠ friday

12:23pm

You walked into the craft store and were greeted by the smell of sawdust and lumber. Grabbing a hand basket, you strolled around the aisles in search for a few repair materials. Last week, Kazuha accidentally broke the shelf you had installed in your wall with her heavy stretching equipment. Needless to say, you were left to pick up the pieces. To your misfortune, the wood glue was placed on an abnormally high rack. Raising up on tippy toes, you extended your arm, barely grazing the item with your fingertips. That’s when a tall figure reached over your frame, obtaining the wood glue with ease. “Thought you might want a little help with that,” the deep voice chimed, placing the wood glue in your basket.

You looked up to meet his face, jolting as if you’d seen a ghost. The helpful stranger proved to be none other than Sunghoon Park, the older brother of the girl you bullied to suicide back in high school. The last time you saw Sunghoon was at his sister’s funeral, which was almost three years ago. “Are you okay,” he asked, noticing the way your features fell at the sight of him. You tried to recollect your thoughts, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Y- yeah, I’m okay. Thanks,” you said nodding, trying to reassure the both of you.

He eyed you curiously, finding your bashfulness to be rather endearing.

“Do I,” he began, pointing at himself and back to you, “-have we met before?”

“No, I uh- Well, kind of. I- I knew your sister,” you admitted, trying to ignore your own stuttering.

“Oh, I remember. You’re ____, right? Yeah. Wonyo told me all about you and your friends. Who were they again?”

“Kazuha and Maddison.”

“Hmm, and where are they now,” he asked, following along as you subconsciously picked up a pack of brad nails.

“Well, Kaz is actually coming to your party tonight. Maddie moved away a while ago after her brother passed in the camping accident.”

All he did was smile in response. You found that odd, but didn’t give it much thought as he kept talking.

“You know, I’ve been thinking a lot about those years recently.”

You nodded, hoping he would continue.

“I tried telling her to ignore the rumors. To keep smiling and focusing on things that made her happy. I guess it just came to a point where she couldn’t pretend anymore.”

Something in you wanted to say sorry, but you came to realize a long time ago that apologies lacked much worth anyway, benefiting the offender more than the offended. You wondered if he even knew how you used to treat her.

You made your way to the check out line, placing your basket on the conveyor belt. The cashier scanned your items, and you handed her your debit card.

“I’ve been thinking about her, too. Wonyoung was such a bright soul, and put her all in everything she did. She used to talk about you all the time, sharing stories of how amazing you were on the ice. She was so proud of you.”

“Yeah,” his voice cracked.

“Would you like your receipt,” the employee asked cheerfully.

“No, that’s okay. Have a good day,” you wished, taking your shopping bag in one hand and Sunghoon’s wrist in the other.

He was docile as you guided him outside of the craft store, pulling him to face you. Breaking the tension, you gave him a hug, leaning into his chest.

He restrained his sniffles rather well before pulling away as if he wasn’t just on the verge of crying.

“So, are you in school,” he asked, started up a new conversation.

“Yeah, I’m a sophomore. We actually go to the same university.”

“Really? I’ve never seen you around before. I’m a junior. What’s your major?”

“English.”

“Ahh, that makes sense. I’m majoring in Psychology, so we won’t have many classes together.”

You couldn’t believe that he was actually this comfortable talking with you. It was a relief knowing that he didn’t hold his sister’s passing against you.

“Well, enough with the sad stuff, I’ve got some last minute errands to run for the party, so I’ll see you tonight, alright? Do you need a ride?”

“Yeah, actually. Thanks for offering.”

Why was he being so nice?

“Yeah, no problem! I’ll pick u up around 8, okay? It was nice meeeting you again!”

“Yeah, you too!”

2:41pm

9:03pm

It was a Friday night and the mood was right, as some would say. You and Kazuha were dressed to impress in your flirty costumes, earning yourself glares from every corner of the room. You arrived a little later then anticipated, but were still thankful for Sunghoon’s kind gesture of driving you two all the way here. However, he’d been missing in action for the past hour, and you were really hoping that you would have the chance to talk with him again. In the meantime, you sat on one of his fancy couches, enjoying the lively rhythms of the music. Colorful flashing lights kissed the tall ceiling, with an array of drinks and snacks displayed at a bar. You knew Sunghoon was rich, but he had really outdone himself.

Walking over to the bar, you grabbed one of the plastic red cups and filled it with whatever flavored liquid enticed you from the large punch bowl, having a seat at one of the metal bar stools. You gave the drink a whiff before taking a sip.

Someone had definitely spiked the juice.

Although you currently had no one around to chat with, you tried to find some enjoyment in the crowded solitude, watching fellow party goers dance their hearts out before joining them yourself.

9:13pm

Kazuha invited herself to take a tour around Sunghoon’s fancy abode, that honestly felt more like a mansion than a home. She wasn’t sure if it was the faint traces of alcohol in her system, but she was certainly in the mood for a good time. Walking through his home’s back door, she spotted him sitting near his pool, staring at the wind-produced waves. She walked towards him, sitting in the idle seat beside him.

“Hi,” he started, barely glancing at her before looking back at the water, reflecting the moon’s beautiful glow.

“Hi. You didn’t dress up for your own party,” she chuckled, swirling the red liquid in her cup.

“I am dressed up. As myself, of course.”

“So, ‘Sunghoon Park’ is a part of your costume then, yeah?”

“Maybe. Would you like to get to know the real me?”

“Maybe,” she said in between a long sip of the fruity drink she held in her hand.

“If you could be anything at all, what would you be?”

Sunghoon rested his elbows on his thighs in a thinking position.

“A ghost.”

“You’d make one goon of a ghost,” she humored herself until she noticed that he wasn’t amused by her antics.

“Ghosts are liberal beings, free from the taxing cares of this blood and bone world.”

‘Who wouldn’t want that,’ Sunghoon thought to himself.

“Uhuh. So, how do you think your dead little sister is enjoying her boring life as a graveyard ghoul?” He froze at her question, gripping his fists around nothing, trying to get a hold of his emotions.

Kazuha was being a bitch on purpose. It was an innate attitude of hers that she had yet to break. Still and all, she couldn’t help but wonder what Wonyoung would be like if she was still here.

‘If they’re better than me, they’re better gone,’ Kazuha often reminded herself, more so as an affirmation, rather than out of belief.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Sunghoon retorted, searching his blazer pocket for his silver flask, taking a thick gulp from its spout. Kazuha watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed with each swallow, marveling at the shadow of facial hair growing on his chin.

Cute.

His jaw clenched at the strong drink, the condensation from the silver canister leaving a print from his warm fingertips.

“Want some,” he asked, giving her a nonchalant look.

“Sure,” she said, opening her mouth for him to pour a stream of the amber liquid down her throat.

“You have a pretty tongue,” he said, using a thumb to toy with her lower lip.

Kazuha felt dizzy under Sunghoon’s dark gaze, his piercing eyes telling of all the bad things he planned to do to her.

He laid a hand on her exposed thigh, gripping at the plush skin. “Look at you, squirming in your seat for me and I’ve barely even touched you,” he whispered against her lips, tasting the rum that flavored her mouth with a kitten lick. Her eyes fluttered at the action. How was he so comfortable doing this in front of all these people?

“Is this why you hated Wonyo for so long? Because she could pull hot guys like me effortlessly? I never understood why it was so hard for you, anyway, considering that you go both ways,” he slithered.

She grabbed his wrist, snatching his grasp from her face.

“What? I thought we were having a little fun,” he grinned like a sly fox, displaying his pearly fangs.

“No, Goon! You were having fun!” She got up from the poolside, adjusting her clothes and wiping her mouth. “I don’t wanna be here anymore, tell ____ I’ll see her tomorrow.”

He set his eyes back on the water, taking another sip from the flask.

She waved her arms above her head frantically, trying to get his attention again. “Aren’t you gonna take me home?”

“Forget it, Kaz. You can walk home for all I care.”

She scoffed to herself. “You’re joking.”

“And you’re a classless bitch who bullies girls who’re better than you,” he spat, tucking his flask away in his jacket pocket before getting up to walk in the opposite direction of her.

“Sunghoon! I can’t walk home by myself in the middle of the night! I’ll get chopped up by some weirdo or something!”

“I’m afraid that’s not my problem,” he said, not turning meeting her face. “And by the way, I want you outta here in the next two minutes or else I’m calling the police!”

Kazuha gave Sunghoon the bird, walking the walk of shame as she left his party alone, dressed as the slutty devil he had made her feel like.

9:40pm

Kazuha took short strides as she walked along the concrete sidewalk, trying to get back home before her legs gave out. On the way, she found a random stick lying on a neighborhood lawn. She decided to keep it with her as a weapon, just in case she needed to defend herself.

Ring. Ring.

She answered her phone without looking.

“Kazzieeee.”

“Hello? Who’s this?”

“Oh, we know each other very well.”

A lightbulb went off in Kazuha’s head.

“You’re the perv that prank called my friend a few nights ago, right?” She said, subconsciously walking faster, feeling paranoid for some reason, though, she tried to mask it with humor.

“Where are you going?” The voice on the other end asked.

“Home,” she answered for reasons she didn’t understand.

“I can wait for you at the door if you like.”

“I think I’d like it a little bit more if you found some friends instead.”

“Then why are you walking away from me, you rude devil?”

She turned around to check her surroundings, waving the stick weapon at the sight of a stop sign, dim street lights, and suburban houses. She cackled at herself.

“Oh man, you really had me there for a second,” she sighed, turning back around.

“So, are you gonna invite me in or do I have to force my way?”

“Ugh, what’re you talking about now?”

“I'm talking about how much fun it’s gonna be to rip your insides out!"

Kazuha’s eyes bucked in fear. She never expected the caller to threaten her.

“C- call me again, a- and I’ll call the police,” Kazuha warned in a trembling voice.

It’s hard to sound brave when you’re scared for your life.

The unknown caller let out a mocking chuckle, thoroughly amused by her responses.

She lifted the phone to her face.

“HANG UP AND YOU’LL DIE-“

The dial tone filled the stale night air.

Kazuha fished through her mini bag, looking for her AirPod case. She opened the Spotify app on her phone, clicking on her “Chyll Vybe” playlist. Swallowing her anxiety, she hoped that some upbeat music would take her mind off her fear. Something in her told her to warn you about Sunghoon, and she listened, sending you a quick text before power walking down the side walk. She lip-synced to the melody, trying to lift her spirits.

9:49pm

iMessage from ”Kazzie 🦢🩰” — I still don’t trust Sun-Goon. Pls don’t go anywhere near/with him 🙏

Reply: Where r u?

read

9:50pm

Kazuha felt like someone was watching her. That’s when she looked to her side and saw a tall clothed figure with a scanty white mask walking beside her. She flinched, “Oh my God, you scared the hell out of me!”

The person stayed silent.

“I don’t remember seeing you at Sunghoon’s costume part-“ Kazuha lurched forward over nothing, the clothed figure tearing through her flesh with a sharp blade, scraping the bone beneath.

Kazuha groaned at the feeling, gripping the offender’s arm at the profound pain.

The figure pushed her wounded body on the ground, taking the knife out of her abdomen before stabbing her again and again, until her ragged breaths couldn’t keep up with the continuous blood flow. Kazuha whimpered and winced, even after the stabbing had stopped, her abused innards glistening under the soft moonlight. She watched as the psychopath removed her AirPods from her ears before walking away, leaving her dying body on the pavement.

He put her headphones in his own ears before comically mimicking the way Kazuha was ‘power-walking’ earlier. Rihanna’s cover of Same Ol’ Mistakes blared from the white pods, chanting the lyric:

“But you've got your demons and she's got her regrets.”

“What a lovely song to die to,” the killer chimed, skipping off into the distance.

10:11pm

Buzz. Buzz.

Your phone vibrated in your white hand purse. Pulling out your phone, the bright screen revealed a text from an unknown number.

What a wonderful surprise.

You jotted in your password before finally checking the message.

You spun in your seat, searching the crowd behind you. The dancing party lights hindered your vision. You got up from your seat, stepping closer to get a better look. Goosebumps dawned on the surface of your skin at the sight of the hooded figure in a distorted caricature mask, gripping a knife in their right hand. It was a horrific look to say the least.

“Screw you.” You typed angrily on your phone to the unknown number, blocking the contact and putting your phone back away. You just realized how long it’s been since you saw Kaz, so you went out to go and find her.

“You shouldn’t have done that, ____,” you heard a dark voice say from behind you. You ignored it, thinking it was just your paranoia playing tricks on you.

10:16pm

“Why did you leave my side, Kaz? Kazuha?!” You called out in search for your friend. You didn’t entirely believe what the unknown caller said, but you still wanted to make sure she was okay. You made your way upstairs, opening door after door to no avail. Your friend was no where to be found. “Kazuha?! Seriously, if you don’t come out right now, I’m eating the rest of your dried mangoes-”

Crash.

You bumped into a formally dressed party goer, only to realize that it was Sunghoon.

“Oh my gosh, are you okay,” you worried, fixing the damp hairs that framed his pretty face.

“Oh- your hairs wet.”

“Yeah, I was just at the pool.”

“Must’ve been near the hot tub, you look flushed.”

He offered his hand to lift you up.

“Sorry, but have you seen Kazuha anywhere? She texted me something, and now I can’t find her.”

“Oh, she actually left about half an hour ago,” he admitted, still fixing his clothes from the fall.

“Why? Was she okay?”

“Yes, ____, she was perfectly fine. She probably just felt a little awkward and decided to go home.”

You hummed in response. Unlike Kazuha, you trusted Sunghoon for whatever that reason was, so you didn’t spend anymore time talking about your MIA bestie.

“What’re you doing?”

“Texting her good night. Even though she probably won’t see it til the morning,” you chuckle to yourself, eliciting a smile from Sunghoon himself. You have yet to learn his reasons for smiling at some of the things you say, but you had a feeling there was nothing to worry about.

“Who’s that,” he asked pointing to your conversation with the unknown number.

“Just some rando trying to scare me,” you replied, deleting the conversation before putting your phone back in your purse.

“Hmm, I thought you liked scary,” he replied.

You and Sunghoon started to trail back downstairs, ignoring the way his knuckles occasionally brushed against the back of your hand.

“Hey, uh, I know we don’t know each other very well, but I was hoping we could go somewhere a little more private?”

You considered his offer, thinking about how Kazuha abandoned ship when she was the one who hauled you to this silly party to begin with. The night was still young, and you trusted Sunghoon. You wanted to leave with him.

“Yeah, okay. I’m gonna hit up the ladies room first though, and I’ll meet you out front.”

“Wait, Sunghoon,” you called out. “You haven’t had anything to drink tonight, right?”

“Have you?,” was all he asked before flashing a cheeky smirk, displaying his dimples.

“I’ll be waiting for you in my car, alright” he said, giving you a brief hug before heading to the door.

11:24pm

You weren’t entirely sure where Sunghoon was taking you, but you didn’t really care either.

You were too lost in the way he maneuvered the steering wheel with one hand, captivated by the prominent veins that traced his delicately long fingers.

After some time, Sunghoon pulled the shiny black vehicle into the driveway of a log cabin, hidden within the depths of the forest. The bright car headlights glazed the surface of a rectangular sign hanging above the front door, revealing the words "Park Lodge" carved into the wooden slab.

Sunghoon put the car in park, ceasing the calming sound of the air conditioner. His eyes were still trained on the view behind the windshield.

“So," you began, breaking the silence. "How many girls have you taken here before,” you teased, giving him a curious look.

“None, actually, other than my little sister.”

Peering out the car window, you took in all the trees and wildlife that made up your surroundings. It finally hit you that you were in the middle of nowhere with a guy you had known for less than 24 hours. Oh, if Kazuha could see you now.

“Do you own this place?”

“Yup. My grandfather had it built from the ground up when he was around my age. Now, it belongs to me,” he smiled, trying to mask his pride.

You both exited the vehicle, Sunghoon locking the doors behind you. The sounds of crickets and restless owls greeted your ears. He had shared so much of his belongings with you so far that it almost made you feel guilty.

“I hope I’m not giving off the impression that I’m using you,” you mumbled shyly under your breath, walking closely beside him.

“____, you’re exactly what I need in my life right now. If anything, I’m the one using you.”

Something about his comment made you feel uneasy, but you tried to brush it off. He unlocked the front door, letting you step in before him. Upon entering, the space was dimly lit, with wooden accents trimming each corner. An antique chandelier was the source of the faint light, drawing your attention to the artistic etchings that covered the ceiling. This place was truly a gem.

“You looked really beautiful tonight, by the way,” Sunghoon admitted, interrupting your gawking.

“Shut up,” you bashfully rejected his compliment, feeling a sudden heat rush to your face.

“What? I’m serious.”

“And I’m way too tipsy to think rationally right now.”

“Yeah? And what is it that you’re thinking, then? Honestly?”

You waited before answering him.

“That if you knew just half of what I’ve done in the past, you probably wouldn’t even be talking to me right now.”

He took your hand in his, turning you to face him.

“So stop talking.”

“What?”

“Follow me,” he said, beelining you to another room.

A bedroom.

He flicked one of the light switches before sitting you beside him on the bed. He held intense eye contact with you before speaking.

“I’m not oblivious, ____. You may be a nice girl, but I can tell you have a naughty side, too.”

The thought of you and Kazuha’s shopping adventure reminisced in the back of your mind. Promiscuity came so naturally for her, but for you, it wasn't as easy.

“Trust me, there isn’t a naughty nerve in my body.”

“Not yet, maybe. It just needs to be stimulated, first.”

The word ‘stimulated’ hung in the air for a moment.

“Sunghoon, what are you getting at here-“

You gasped as he stopped you mid sentence, caging you beneath his large frame on the bed.

“Maybe we could start with some on top of the clothes stuff, yeah?”

“Sunghoon, this is a little fast-“

“I really need this from you tonight, okay? Just, please. Let me explore you.”

The desperate look in his eyes softened your heart, sending a sensation of numbness through your limbs. It was hard to process that all of this was actually happening right now. A little voice in your head urged you to let go of the nerves and simply let him. As lust and desire intoxicated your senses, you accepted the fact that you were more than fine with this. More than ready for wherever this night with Sunghoon would take you.

“Okay,” you answered.

“Yeah," he asked in excited disbelief.

“Yes,” you reassured him, nodding.

“Explore me.”

That was the green light Sunghoon had been waiting for, pressing a soft kiss to your lips that quickly escalated into a heated tongue fight. He gently grazed his teeth against your neck, nibbling at the sensitive spot beneath your ear. He snaked a hand between your legs, only for his touch to be hindered by the corseted bodysuit of your angel costume. “May I,” he whispered against your skin, sending a shiver down you spine as his fingers drew circles atop the fabric. You could only nod in response, too pleasure drunk to come up with any words. Tossing the outfit across the room, Sunghoon dipped his fingers into the growing wetness at your core.

“Much better,” he grinned, sliding his fingers up and down past your folds. You reached out to tug at his button up shirt, aching to feel his bare skin against yours. He caught on to your desires pretty quickly, stripping himself before you. You stared in awe at his toned body, sinful thoughts of him flooding your brain. He looked down at your vulnerable figure, smirking to himself.

“Both our clothes are off. You can stop teasing me now,” you said, causing him to chuckle.

“What’re you suggesting I do to you, then,” he questioned, inching closer before meeting you on the bed again.

You felt yourself squeeze around nothing.

“I want you. All of you.”

That’s all it took and Sunghoon was already diving back into your lips, lewd sounds bouncing off the bedroom’s walls. You busied yourself with unzipping his pants, palming the bulge that hid behind his boxers.

“Fuck,” he swore under his breath, pulling his bottoms down the rest of the way, granting you access to stroke his shaft a few times before aligning his tip with your entrance. He pushed himself past your tightness, not giving you any time to adjust to his size before rutting his hips against you, groaning at the intense pleasure you gave him.

➠ saturday

5:04am

Last nights sleep was still fresh on your face, adding a weight to your eyelids that you didn’t care to fight just yet. You were laying flat on your back once you felt a different weight sit atop your hips in a still straddle. Eyes still closed, you knew the pressure came from Sunghoon once the scent of his rosy cologne hit your nostrils. You shut your sleepy eyes tighter as he grazed something sharp across the length of your neck before leaning down to kiss the spot softly, his eyelashes fluttering against your skin. He traced the sharp object across the stature of your collarbone and the valley between your chest, tracing another straight line down your stomach to your navel.

Poke.

The sharpness barely pierced you before your eyes shot open at the sting. A shirtless Sunghoon sat on your lap with a large knife in his right hand, the fresh blood from your stomach coating it’s tip. You weren’t naked, but you were only wearing his oversized white poplin shirt from the night before, now stained with a few drops of ruby red. Looking around, you noticed countless stab impressions on the mattress.

Sunghoon must’ve violently stabbed a circle around your head while you slept, loose cotton and feathers covering the messy bedspread.

He looked up from his ministrations and saw that you were awake. You wanted to scream for your life, even though you knew no one would hear you.

“SUNGHOON-,” you tried, but he covered your mouth with his free hand, a sent of iron lingering in your nose.

“Don’t you think it’s a little early to be screaming? The trees might think I’m abusing you in here!”

You rustled under his palm before biting his hand, eliciting a groan from his throat.

“What the fuck is this, huh,” you asked, trying to get up from under him. He wrestled with your arms, pining your wrists to the bed.

“I commend your bravery, but try some shit like that again and I’ll finish cutting you open.”

His eyes were dark, void of any moral conscience. He brought the knife up to your neck, toying with the ripples that made up your anxious throat. “You deserve this for what you did to her, but that doesn’t mean I can’t have a little fun with you first.” He smirked at whatever perverse thoughts ran through his mind. Your breathing became ragged, as the urge to cry grew in your chest.

“Aww, we’ve got a crier,” Sunghoon teased, pouting back at you.

“K-Kaz, sh-she, she tried to warn me.”

“A- an- and you probably sh- should’ve listened,” he replied, mocking the way you stuttered. “I still would’ve caught your ass later, anyways.”

“You fucking killed her!”

“Oh, please. That bitch had the mouth of a viper, someone was gonna put her in her place eventually.”

“You’re insane!”

“I’m also self aware.”

The tears were becoming too much for your eyes to hold back, as thick streams poured from your eyelids, dampening your supple cheeks.

“You took my virginity because of your dead sister?” You yelled again in utter disgust.

“Oh, don’t act like you didn’t fucking enjoy it.”

You spat in his eye.

“You missed my mouth, princess,” he said in a low voice before wiping the spit off of his face, smearing it against your chest.

“You’re into this, huh? Look how hard your nipples have gotten.”

He put his sweaty forehead against yours, planting a tender kiss to your lips that for some reason, you didn’t reject.

“You know, I did enjoy exploring you last night.”

He kissed you again, pushing his hot tongue past your lips, dancing with yours.

“I enjoyed our taste”

He kissed your neck, gripping your throat until your vision went blurry.

“I enjoyed your scent.”

He grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled it like horse reins, causing a choked moan to erupt from you mouth.

“I enjoyed the pretty sounds you made for me.”

He glided his digits between your wet folds, dipping his delicate fingers into your entrance.

“Sunghoon!”

“I enjoyed the way you cried out my name as you clenched around my fingers,” he slithered seductively.

“Fuck, get off of me!”

He was in the middle of admiring your tits when he looked up to meet your rage-ridden eyes, his own face a flushed hue from the heat engulfing your sweaty bodies. He sighed in disappointment.

“You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that?”

“Ugh,” you squirmed, fighting your hardest to escape his grasp.

“How long do you think your weak little body can take my insatiable urges to torture you before it finally gives out? Huh? Making you suffer will bring all the more fulfillment to my life.”

“God, Sunghoon, I don’t care anymore! Kill me! We’ll burn in hell together, I guess!”

“Jeez, would you quit pretending like you want to die? You’re taking all the fun out of it,” he said, rolling his eyes.

The sounds of your choked sobs filled the room’s miserable air.

“This doesn’t make any sense,” you sniffled beneath him.

“Here,” he offered, throwing the knife across the room, causing you to jump at nothing, “allow me to clear it up for you. When I care about someone, I don’t let anyone fucking touch them. Yet, you and your friends managed to hurt her without even doing so.”

“We didn’t know she would take it that far, Sunghoon,” you pleaded in between sobs.

“I didn’t know that my sister would be taken away from me by a bunch of mindless teenage sluts with big and dirty dick sucking mouths! Life’s unfair!”

“Fuck you,” you retorted, feeling lightheaded from all of your screaming and crying. He snickered to himself, presumably finding amusement in how pathetic you sounded. Combing his hair back with a clawed hand, he peered down, looking into your eyes.

“I’ve had just about enough of your talking, princess,” he said, reaching for a towel to shove in your mouth.

Only muffled screams filled the room from there.

He would never admit that it was his own vanity keeping you alive. He’d call it mercy, when deep down, it was his twisted craving for your touch that stopped him from going all the way during torture sessions. Your life had been reduced to its lowest, never to see the mere light of day again. He kept you in an underground basement, lined with bricks and mortar to ensure that you’d never escape his sadistic dictation. Everyday behind those walls felt like an eternity of ‘toy versus toddler tantrum’s.’ If only you knew that a simple mistake you made in high school would be the very wrecking ball to sabotage your entire life.

❅ Thank you for reading @chlorinecake ‘s “Blood On Ice.” Make sure to check out more fun reads on my enhypen bookshelf!

❅ Special thanks to @ashgonedash for requesting this creative piece and @fanficfactoryfoxxx for curing my writers block!!! 🎂

✎ ᴀ/ɴ: in no way, shape, or form does this fanfic intend to romanticize unhealthy relationships or abusive behaviors. i simply write for entertainment and creative purposes. thus, reader discretion is always advised.

!¡update: BLOOD ON ICE part TWO coming SOON, introducing more direct yandere themes and plot exploration!! stay tuned 🎧

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cieloclercs · 1 year ago

Text

what would you say (if i told you i love you)? — charles leclerc

PART: 4/? (read part 3 here)

summary. in which childhood best friends blur the lines between what they’ve always known, and something more

warnings. pure angst lmao, charles is an idiot with a capital I, swearing, basically everyone hates charles, the leclercs (minus charles) and joris being iconic + your unnamed bestie, i used pictures from france 2022 so sorry about that 🫠

pairings. charles leclerc x artsy!reader

face claim. tara michelle

author’s note. alex is in one of the pictures as a face claim for a different character but absolutely no hate is intended to her at all !! sorry for the angst in this one 😭 but i promise it won’t stay like that for much longer! <33

liked by yourfriend and 27,836 others

y/nsart experimenting with new textures and media! super happy with the outcome 🖤

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yourfriend incredible 😍

*y/nsart liked this comment

username oh fuck.

username now i really want to know what charles did

username so i’m not the only one getting REALLY sad vibes off these paintings??

username nope 😃

username will any of these be going for sale? 👀

y/nsart i don’t think so unfortunately! i’m just painting for me at the moment :)

username @charles_leclerc what the fuck did you do?

username what happened to y/n’s light tones and summer landscapes? ☹️

username charles happened apparently

username pascale normally comments on y/n’s art posts…is this confirmation? 🥲

username babes you’re reaching

username or at least i hope you are

username the charles thing aside, these are so beautiful!

username no charles like either 😭😭

username it’s the beginning of the end girls :’(

arthur_leclerc amazing as always 🖤

*y/nsart liked this comment

username at least arthur’s still here !!

username wrong leclerc. no offence arthur

arthur_leclerc none taken, i fully agree 😃

username WHAT

username ok so we’ve got no pascale or charles…but there’s still some leclerc presence 🤔

username i’ll be honest i’ve got no idea what’s going on

username same bestie !!

username i mean it’s got to be all connected. charles’ dnf in zandvoort and how sad he looked all weekend (he didn’t even post after!!) and now this?? something weird is going on

username i just want charlesy/n back 🥲

liked by formulaupdates and 9,736 others

f1wags Charles Leclerc arrived in the Monza paddock today with Italian model Bianca Santoro. Sources suggest they looked pretty cosy 👀

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username it’s over for us charlesy/n nation 🥲

username i’m literally sobbing

username YOU’RE JOKING

username this can’t be happening.

username it’s only been three weeks and he’s already forgotten about y/n??

username you say that like they ever actually dated 🙄

username no they didn’t, but they’ve been best friends since they were literal toddlers! that’s not something you just get over in a few weeks imo

username my heart is breaking wtf

username @charles_leclerc WHAT ABOUT Y/N???

username oh my god for the last time, THEY NEVER DATED !! 🙄🙄

username i seriously believed charles was in love with y/n 💔💔

username why does this feel like a betrayal 😭

username i feel so bad for y/n 🥲

username yikes

username guys this girl might actually be nice! don’t be so quick to judge just because you all want charles and y/n together 😁

username we never said she isn’t.

username but they were my endgame 😭😭

username the only positive out of this is that we’re about to be fed with the most beautiful, haunting, gut-wrenchingly tragic paintings OF ALL TIME

username y/n’s rep era (painter edition) loading…

liked by leclerc_pascale and 104,357 others

y/nsart the heart was made to be broken

view all comments…

username oh.

username not the oscar wilde quote 💔

username i was not mentally prepared for this

username i don’t think any of us were babe 🥲

username i’m never going to forgive charles for this

username why am i feeling this so deeply 😭

leclerc_pascale ❤️

username i can just imagine what pascale’s going to say to charles after this lmao

username she’s gonna tear him apart 😭

arthur_leclerc stop this now i will cry.

username arthur 😭😭

username phahah he’s one of us

username @arthur_leclerc same bestie

username as sad as this is i wish i had an outlet for my emotions like this…i feel like it would be so liberating

*y/nsart liked this comment

username this is exactly what heartbreak feels like. i’m not ok.

username charles is now enemy number 1 after making my girl y/n feel like this

username i was going to say i hope he dnfs but he’s already cursed enough it’ll probably happen anyway

username HAHAHA SO TRUE 😭

username someone said y/n’s rep era would be the only positive out of the charles-bianca thing BUT THIS IS PAINFUL. PLEASE MAKE IT STOP I WANT HAPPY Y/N BACK.

username oh god the first and last slides 💔💔💔

username she’s not even denying it anymore…

username i’m going to pray every day from now that charles comes to his senses and tells her how he feels 🙏🙏

username can i join you

username and me

username our delusional asses need to stick together rn 😔🙏

username on a slightly less sad note THE AMOUNT OF LIKES THIS HAS GOT OMG.

username as it should! y/n’s talent needs to be more widely recognised 😌

username @charles_leclerc you’re breaking all our hearts here

liked by f1wags and 15,736 others

formula1updates Charles Leclerc after his DNF in Monza 💔

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username karma.

username honestly it serves him right

username we manifesting it guys !!

username i want to be sad because that’s his championship hopes completely out of the window but he genuinely deserves it after the way he’s treated y/n…

username you mess with y/n you mess WITH GOD BITCH

username lmao it’s so funny that he brings his little girlfriend with him and then crashes out 3 laps in 😭

username he KNOWS he deserves it as well

comments on this post have been limited.

yourfriend

yourusername toujours mon amour 🩷 arthur_leclerc take care of her please ↳ yourfriend what do you think i’m doing? 🙄 joris_trouche can’t believe i wasn’t invited 😔 ↳ yourfriend do you understand the meaning of a ‘girl’s trip’? charles_leclerc please can you ask her to answer my texts? ↳ yourfriend why should i? you’ve already hurt her enough.

three weeks later…

liked by charles_leclerc and 26,836 others

tagged: yourfriend

yourusername healing 🌊🤍🌙

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yourfriend la plus belle fille 💕/ the most beautiful girl

yourusername je t’aime <3

leclerc_pascale Reviens vite à la maison, mon ange 🤍 / come home soon, angel

yourusername tu me manques, maman 🥹

username the strongest person i know 🩵

*yourusername liked this comment

arthur_leclerc i never thought i’d say these words but i miss you ☹️

yourusername awww arth 🥹🥹 i miss you too x

joris_trouche still sad i wasn’t invited on the girl’s trip :’((

yourfriend tais toi, stupide 🙄 / shut up, stupid

yourusername 😭😭

joris_trouche rude 🙁

username guys are we all seeing the same thing right now or am i hallucinating 😳

username charles liked??

username OMG IM NOT HALLUCINATING

username CODE RED 🚨🚨🚨‼️‼️‼️ CHARLES LIKED EVERYBODY STAY CALM

username not charles trying to crawl his way back bitch please 😭

username @/yourusername tell him to go fuck himself x

username HAHSHAH STOP

username nah i’m calling it he’s definitely been lurking around her and y/f/n’s stories for weeks trying to figure out how to win her back 🤞🤞🤞

username girl you’re delulu if you think y/n’s gonna take him back that easily 🙄

username y’all just ignoring the fact that he still has a whole ass girlfriend 😭😭

username let me be delulu in peace please and thanks. 😐

username this is the mediterranean girl summer i want 😍

username how to be y/n y/l/n

username babe this isn’t google

username this bianca girl has NOTHING on y/n

username fr she’s literally a goddess 😫

username if charles doesn’t want her i’ll gladly take her 🤭

username two pretty best friends 🤩

username the growth 🤍 @/yourusername i’m manifesting love and happiness for you girl !! no one deserves it more 😘

yourusername thank you my love 🥹🥹

username charles get tf out of here 😂

username lmaooo he’s ruining the hot girl summer vibe

➜ part 5

tagged: @incoherenciass

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