#still working on stuff so I still have no time for Maya May

[turnaboutfix]

The story can still be turned around.

[sohnric]

plot twist – k. sunwoo

pairing: kim sunwoo x gn! reader

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

wc: 21k

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

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

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

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

TONIGHT'S PREMIERE – UGLY TRUTH (2009)

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

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

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

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

Until one fateful day, of course. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait– newbie–”

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

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

“Oh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

TONIGHT'S PREMIERE – PALM SPRINGS (2020)

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

Why?

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

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

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

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

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

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

He just laughs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, pretty much.”

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

“My dad’s watching.”

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

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

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

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

Oh, how foolish of you.

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

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

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

“Look, you don’t have to-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Who are you kidding?

You’d definitely say yes.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – THE HATING GAME (2021)

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

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

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

Maybe you should thank him, in a way.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know what those are–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sunwoo–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Absolutely not.”

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

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

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

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

“Which one?” he asks, seemingly interested.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wrong.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?”

“Because,” he shrugs. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Look, I really can’t-”

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

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

“Because…?” you demand a valid reason.

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

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

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

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

Maybe you should quit yourself, actually.

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

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

Yeah. Not too many.

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

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

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

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

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

Wrong.

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

“Fuck, man–”

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

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

“Oh?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Kim Sunwoo–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You have to be kidding me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Do you believe him? No. Absolutely not. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Look, it’s not me, it’s my dad–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

The screening room was definitely cleaned before.

Which means that Sunwoo brought you here for absolutely nothing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What…?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I couldn’t,” he shrugs.

“Huh? But you bought two tickets..?”

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

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

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

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

“Probably,” he admits.

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

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

“Are you not leaving?” you ask.

“No,” he hums, “should I be?”

“Well, you’re on the clock…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – CLUELESS (1995)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sir, I can’t-”

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

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

“So?”

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s ridiculous-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sure he will.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – ME BEFORE YOU (2016)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You force yourself not to care.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How would you know?”

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

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

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

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

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

He fails you, though. “No.”

“Why not?”

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

“Oh come on–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Okay, so it’s not working.

You’re fucked.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – THE PROPOSAL (2009)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not fair.”

“Very fair, actually.”

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

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

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

Fuck, you think. That’s my favorite. 

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

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

“Just because. It’s too long.”

“It’s not even two hours?”

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

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

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

“Y/N, come on–”

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

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

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

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

“Maybe,” you shrug.

And maybe, the true reason is something completely else. 

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

You decide you no longer want answers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Grab a chair…?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

The choice is yours.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sunwoo!”

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

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

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

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

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

Kim Sunwoo does make a really good kisser.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – PRIDE AND PREJUDICE (2005)

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

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

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

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

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

It’s the first snow of the season. 

Kim Sunwoo loves it when it snows.

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

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

Well, here goes nothing, you think.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I thought so too,” you nod.

“And you don’t?”

Shrugging, you reply. “Not really.”

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

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

“You don’t?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re so cheesy.”

“But you quite like me anyways, no?”

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

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

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

“We’ll see,” you shrug.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[damiansgoodgirll]

I would like a story where Damian becomes extremely protective of his wife and child after a dangerous event occurs.

i looooove writing about this kind of stuff! let’s say this is kind of an utopia but it could still happen, okay?

anyway

damian priest x reader

‼️angst and fluff

wrong house

your life was perfect.

perfect like in one of those romantic comedy.

you had a loving husband, a beautiful daughter and a big house like you dreamed about when you were a kid. a huge living room, plenty of space for your daughter to run and play, a backyard pool and the classic white picket fence. you were in a nice and wealthy neighbourhood, surrounded by lots of parks and kind people.

what more could you ask for?

a couple of blocks away from your neighbourhood there’s been a few robberies, nothing major, just some teens thinking it was fun scaring old people, but police officers told you multiple times that you didn’t have to worry about it, that they have it handle it.

damian wasn’t so sure about it tho.

he made everything in his power to provide you with a beautiful house, a nice neighbourhood so you could feel safe when he was travelling for work so the idea of having teens breaking into people’s homes late at night made him shiver, especially when he thought about you and your daughter.

“are you sure it’s okay? i can come home early…you know it’s not a problem mi amor” he said through the phone.

“dam…” you said laughing “everything been calm for over three weeks, we’ll be okay…”

“i know it’s just…you know how i get when i’m not home, i’m only thirty minutes away from you and in case anything happens you give me a call okay?”

“i promise you dam…go back to training” you said laughing again.

“i will, tell maya that i love her okay? and that i miss her so much and that i will crush her with hugs and kisses once i come back home” he said smiling, thinking about his two years old daughter.

“i will i promise…go back to training, we’ll see you in a couple of hours…” you said giving him a kiss through your phone and hanging up.

you smiled watching your daughter being completely invested in the cartoon she was watching.

the evening went on normally.

you and maya had dinner together, you got her ready for the night but as usual she didn’t want to go to bed without having a goodnight kiss from her father, so, instead of going to bed, you spent the early night together, watching some cartoons and eating popcorn.

you watched the time and you knew damian would be back in an hour so you took a few seconds to close your eyes and relax a bit.

non even a minute passed that you heard some weird noise coming from the back door.

you knew for sure that damian wasn’t back, you didn’t hear the car and even if he was, you knew he never used the back door, so what was going on?

then you heard them, two, maybe three voices talking softly. saying how hard it was to open your door and that maybe they should go to another house. you prayed that they would let you alone but when you heard the click sound of the door opening you realised it was too late.

you grabbed maya into your arms and pulled her towards your chest. moving fast to the bedroom, you locked yourself in, and then you locked yourself into the bathroom, hiding maya behind you in the tub.

you knew you should have called the police, you knew that but the first person that came to your mind was damian.

you didn’t know what was going on, and if something bad was going to happen you wanted to hear damian’s voice one last time.

“please…” you whispered, waiting to hear his voice.

your hands were shaking and even if you were crying, you were praying no one would be able to hear you from downstairs.

“hey love” he answered.

“dam?” your voice broke.

“hermosa…what’s going on?” he asked, alarmed by the sound of your voice.

“dam they’re here…”

“who?” he knew who, he just didn’t want it to be real.

“someone’s in the house…dam, they’re in the kitchen, looking for something i guess, i’m in the bathroom with maya, we’re locked in…i know they never hurt anyone, they’re just kids but…damian i’m so scared, i don’t want anything to happen to maya” you broke down, trying to muffle your cries.

“listen to me amor, i’m coming back home right now okay?” he said and you hummed “you’re on the speaker, finn is with me and he’s calling the police right now, you stay at the phone with me okay?”

he didn’t know how he was able to remain so calm. in reality he was freaking out, just the thought of you and maya being in danger made his blood boil.

“is maya okay?” he asked.

“she’s okay, she’s scared too but she’s okay” you said, looking at your daughter’s face. she was confused and definitely scared but still she didn’t know what was going on.

“are you okay love? i’m coming back home, right now..you stay at the phone with me okay?”

“okay…” you said.

you hear the noise from downstairs growing closer to you, they were in the living room right now. you were lucky your house was big enough that you had the time to hide.

“damian they’re closer…i can hear them… i’m so scared…”

“i know princesa i know….keep holding on for me okay…i’m driving as fast as possible, keep holding on”

“i love you so much damian…so so much”

“don’t say that like it’s the last time you’ll say this…” damian’s heart broke, he couldn’t imagine how scared you must have been “i love you so much mi amor and i’m not going anywhere, ill stay at the phone with you, finn just told me the police is on their way…”

“okay…” you whispered.

damian kept talking to you but you stopped him when you heard the sirens ringing.

“police is here…” you whispered letting damian know about it.

you heard them breaking down the front door. you heard them chasing the kids around your house and you heard them calling your name.

you waited until they found you. they were police but you didn’t trust them enough to come out yet, you didn’t feel safe. the only place where you always felt safe was between damian’s arms and you couldn’t wait for him to be back.

you and your daughter were brought downstairs. you didn’t care about the broken furnitures, not when something worse could have happened.

damian ran into the house, fighting off police officers who told him to stay outside.

“my wife and my daughter are inside!” you heard him screaming, shoving past one officer.

“dam…” you said, tears running down your face.

“hey…” he whispered hugging you tight. maya was watching the whole scene with a confused smile. she was just a kid, too young to understand what was going on. one police officer was sat next to her, while you couldn’t let go of damian’s embrace.

“i was so scared…”

“i know mi amor, i know…everything is over now, you’re safe, you and maya are safe…” he kept repeating, more to himself, because he couldn’t describe how terrified he was when you told him someone broke into your house.

“i’m so glad she’s okay…i would have fought with all my life if something happened….”

“i know hermosa…she’s so lucky to have you as her mom, i’m so glad to call you my wife…and i’m so happy to see you both here alive, i’m so sorry i wasn’t here”

“damian, it’s not your fault” you said before he could blame himself “you’re here now and it’s all that matters”

“i love you so much…and you too maya” he said moving to bring her up in his arms.

she was just happy to see his daddy smiling at her.

“missed you” she said with her soft voice that always made your heart smile.

“i missed you too princess…and i’m not going anywhere for a long time” he said kissing her head “daddy is gonna stay here with you”

she seemed happy with his decision and so were you.

it was kinda selfish taking him away from his work but he knew that you wouldn’t trust yourself to be home alone for some time now and he didn’t want to leave you alone, never.

[season40]

Welcome to ALNST Season 40!

hello! i’m june, the admin of this account! my main blog is @junebluues. here’s some organizational tags i will be using on this blog:

#! round matchups -> for anything regarding the round brackets!

#round [number] -> this is going to be for easier searching, mostly

#! asks

#! reblog

#! announcements -> announcements can be made at any time! please send me an ask at any time if your oc will be escaping before their round so i can make a proper announcement at the time of your choosing. if there are any other things you’d like me to announce, you can send those over as well!

#! juneposting -> basically things related to me running this blog but not related to any of the rounds or announcements. think of this as me going ooc, in a way? i can't explain it til it happens 😭

(this is subject to change as the season goes on)

i'm not alone in running s40, by the way! i'm only running the blog. so far, zen ( @zerostyrant ) and plip ( @pwippy ) have both offered their help!

here is the masterdoc for all the characters (s39 to some of 41):

participating S40 ocs:

innamorati / @alien-til-i-stage

toki / @eventseraphim ( @zerostyrant )

clove / ^

yumi / @imperfectnothing ( @rockwgooglyeyes )

asuka / ^

dante / ^^

sebastian / @sotogalmo

eeta / ^

naz / @lookatmysillies ( @bluemoonscape )

yael / ^

monica / @nottoonedin

isla / ^

yvonne / @thorny-chaparral ( @aakaneeee )

eliana / ^

atlas / ^^

aamon / ^^^

zero / @myworld-collapsing ( @apriciticreveries )

asahi / ^

ciaran / @starry-skiez

yuna / ^

eri / ^^

casimir / ^^^

jiu / @severedscales

kioku / ^

numa / my oc!

xael / ^

sirius / ^^

brandon / @neverforgetyou ( @tsukacchako )

willow / ^

mentha / @rosedeleca

ambrosia / ^

mill / @waterydream ( @amuseables )

wren / @ivanttakethis

juliet / @yunoftheclouds

gaia / @subzeromoron

leto / @paradisedisconcert

can / ^

clementine / @chevalperd

maya / @cloverandstuff

ava / @tinypaperstar

if anyone needs me to update this list, please tell me!

other:

please try and send me round songs in advance! if not, i completely understand!

hello,, creators of the s40 announcers... would you like me to use them in announcements in the season? i'm rather confused of their roles in this all, please tell me what you'd like me to do with them.

if there is any lore you need me to know in advance, please don't be afraid to tell me!

don't be afraid to spam notifs on here. the season can get hectic, and i don't mind waking up to people freaking out over rounds

i will sometimes need breaks, please understand! i'll let everyone know when i'll be taking a leave. i think i'll still implement the 1 week breaks between rows. we will still be taking 1 day breaks in between rounds like season 39.

be patient with me! i might sometimes release rounds late. i'm sorry if that happens!

please send me your oc's icons, or any art you'd like to use as their round profile! it would be very helpful!

zen is doing the season bracket, not me! please thank zem for zeir hard work <3 more information on this is in this post!

please enjoy season 40! i'm going to try and see when this should start after s39, and i really want to give everyone enough time to get stuff done. thank you!

(this post may update in the future.)

[goldenempyrean]

I am LOVING your Marina stuff! Can I request a fic where Maya goes to work sick because duh it’s Maya, as a result she gets injured- nothing serious just broken ribs or a dislocated shoulder (basically anything that makes that makes coughing/sneezing/blowing her nose little bit more inconvenient). Cue hot Italian doctor wife looking after her :))

Doubled Down Misery

〚 Notes - This request was adorable so hopefully I've done it some justice, please ignore any editing errors, It's late and despite unintentionally falling asleep at my desk for 6 hours I'm still tired :,) 〛

〚 Pairing - Maya Bishop x Carina Deluca 〛

〚 Summary - What happens when a too sick to work Maya Bishop gets injured and ends up at Grey Sloan? 〛

〚 Wordcount - 3,400 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙

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Maya dragged herself out of her bunk with a groan. God, everything hurt. Each movement seemed to make a different part of her body ache, a bitter reminder of the consequences of her stubbornness. She knew she should have called in sick when she felt this cold settling in her sinuses a few nights ago. Maya needed to rest. Captain Bishop needed to work. 

She’d hoped a nap would’ve had her feeling a little better but, in all honesty, she’d woken up feeling worse. The first call of her shift had been eventful. They’d been at the site 4 hours in the pouring rain, shouting orders and organising the scene had torn apart her already hoarse voice leaving it a raspy wreck. 

The blonde sat up woozily, blinking slowly as she adjusted to the spinning room. With a sudden, violent sneeze, she hastily covered her mouth with her elbow, the force of it causing her to sway unsteadily. Maya groaned, leaning back to flop back onto her bed but the moment her body made contact with the mattress, the blaring of the klaxon rang out. 

Maya's heart sank as the shrill sound pierced through her already throbbing head. She cursed under her breath before coughing deeply into her arm. She gave herself a second to compose herself before pushing herself off the bed, fighting against the wave of dizziness threatening to overwhelm her.  

By some miracle she managed to change into her turnouts without falling over and climbed into the engine. She slumped into the front seat, swallowing thickly as Andy slammed the engine into first gear as they hauled out of the station. 

Honestly, she tried her hardest to pay attention as dispatch relayed the information of the scene they were arriving at, but her sinuses demanded her attention. Maya scrunched up her nose, hoping to alleviate the burning itch but it didn’t seem to help. Her breath hitched. Maya tried to hold it off but an inevitable, sneeze seized her, and the firefighter hastily brought her elbow to her face, attempting to muffle the sound. "’Iiishhiew!" Her body jerked with the force of it, and she winced, feeling the ache in her ribs from the strain. 

Andy’s eyes glanced from the road to the sniffling blonde after her head ducked into her elbow twice more. She pulled down her headset and motioned for Bishop to do the same, “You sure you’re up to this? This storm isn’t letting up and you really don’t sound good Cap’.” 

“I’ll be okay.” Maya nodded, clearing her throat with a deep cough, before sniffling damply, “I just need to not lose my voice.” 

Andy gave her a look but said nothing, she knew Maya’s habit of pushing herself in times like this - the fear of being percussion as weak had been deep-rooted into her from childhood, something like that wasn’t easily overcome, “Well we’re only a block out now. Get yourself ready Mai’.” 

“This is gonna be rough.” 

✧.*  

Understatement of the fucking century. 

“What the hell happened?” Carina’s worried voice yelled above the commotion of the ER. She had just been finishing up a patient’s paperwork when she felt her heart drop as she caught site of the messy blonde hair visible from behind the crowd of numerous firefighters and doctors wheeling a bed through the corridor out of the corner of her eye. 

“Bambina?” Oh my god Maya!” The Italian practically dropped the file she’d been holding to race to her wife’s side. Maya was laying on her back, one arm clutching at her side with a visible grimace and the other in a makeshift sling as an oxygen mask was loosely attached to her face. 

“Carina. Carina!” Andy backed up from the bed to pull the doctor aside, encouraging her to take a deep breath as the other doctors got Maya settled in a bay, “She’s okay Carina, she’s gonna be okay. “ 

“Wh-what happened? Maya- she’s-“The brunette spiralled, looking around desperately to make sense of things, she was too worried to think straight. 

“Carina!” Andy gripped her shoulders and used her lieutenant voice, snapping the Italian back to reality, “She’s okay. I promise you, she’s okay. There was an incident at the scene. Maya ran in to save this little boy’s puppy and a support beam from the roof fell onto her. She was on oxygen on the way here for minor smoke inhalation but her O2 levels were improving when we arrived. We’re looking at a broken rib and or arm at the absolute worse, she will be absolutely fine Carina.” 

Carina nodded numbly; her eyes glued to Maya as the doctors continued to work around her. She could see the small grimaces on Maya’s face, the way she clenched her jaw in pain. 

She was just about to head to her side when the rest of the firefighters backed away from the bed, Jack and Travis came jogging towards them both. 

“They’re taking her to x-ray, Dr. Altman said to tell you she’s gonna hand everything.” Jack explained, giving Carina’s shoulder a comforting squeeze. Despite their initial incompatibility, the two had grown closer with the clinic and Jack knew just what Carina needed to hear to reassure her, “She also said that they’re gonna put her in another room since her condition doesn’t require urgent care. She’ll be in B.04 when they’re done.” 

The half an hour or so it had taken for them to be done felt like days. Time had felt like it had crawled by as Carina paced the room. The rest of the Station 19 team had been called away to another fire somewhere downtime and as much as they hated it, they had to attend. 

She was sat on the little armchair in the corner of the room when the door was pushed open by a nurse followed by the bed being wheeled in. “Maya!” Carina’s voice was loud as she called out, instantly jumping up to be at her side.  

“Carina?”  

“Mio Dio,” Carina nervously eyed up the sling that Maya’s right arm had been placed in, her worried gaze following as she noticed Teddy step into the room, “What on earth have you gotten yourself into bambina?” 

Dr. Altman calmed her down for a moment, flashing a reassuring smile, “Carina, Maya will be just fine. I’ll go over anything in a moment, I just need to set up a drip first, okay?” 

“Okay.” Carina nodded but wasted no time in coming to sit on the bed alongside her wife as, the firefighter mumbling something before curling up to her as the blonde doctor carefully inserted an IV into her left hand. 

“Okay. Well, let’s start with the worse of it. Maya had bruised several ribs and fractured her right radius, but please don’t worry, I can assure you theres no severe damage to either. She’ll need to keep the sling on for 4-6 weeks just to let the bone heal.” Teddy explained and instantly the OB could feel her jittering nerves relax as she squeezed Maya’s hand a little softer. 

“However, we took her temperature on arrival and it’s actually a little elevated though and her WBC count is slightly raised, not to mention the fact she’s clearly dehydrated so we’ve given her a fever reducer and general fluids along with the pain relief.” Dr Altman continued as she read from the chart in her hands. Maya stirred in Carina’s hold, turning her head away to cough raspily against her upper shoulder, whining softly at how it caused her chest to throb. 

“You can probably hear but her breathing is a little rough, but we heard congestion in her lungs. She most likely just has a viral infection from what Andy told us but ut we’ll keep an eye on her O2 just incase” 

The OB murmured sympathetically as her wife hid a sniffle against her shoulder, “This really isn’t your day is it sweetheart? Did you not feel well this morning?” 

“No- no, m’fine.” Maya’s eyes fluttered open, her brows furrowing as she tried to sit up a bit more, wincing as pain shot through her ribs. "Really, Carina, it's just a little cough. I'll be fine. I can—" 

"No, Maya," Carina interrupted firmly but lovingly, pressing her hand lightly against Maya’s shoulder to keep her from moving too much. "You need to listen to the doctors. You need to take care of yourself." 

Now that Teddy had mentioned it, the heat radiating from her was obvious. Carina leaned over to grab the thermometer which sat on the small nurses' station by Maya’s IV and gently inserted it into her ear, ignoring her fussing and protests. 

“38.6.” The screen flashed and Carina stuck out her lip, “That’s really not good Mai, were you seriously working with a fever that high?” 

Maya stubbornly shook her head, a defiant glint in her eyes despite the pain and discomfort. "I didn't even notice, Carina. It's just a little fever. I've worked with worse." 

Carina sighed, her worry mingling with frustration. "Maya, you can't keep pushing yourself like this. It’s not good for you!” 

She took a deep breath to calm herself down. Getting frustrated at her stubbornness wasn’t the right way to go about things. knew how Maya could be around doctors. Hell, she remembered just how frantic her wife could act around them. She was trying her best to keep her calm right now, but it was obvious how fidgety and uncomfortable her wife was getting. Ultimately all she could do now was try to soothe her through it. 

As Maya tried to assert her stubbornness, she suddenly sneezed loudly… twice, trice? She sniffled and bit back a wince, clutching her one useable arm to her ribs. 

Carina offered her a tissue, but she ignored it. Instead, Maya struggled herself to sit up, determination etched across her face despite the pain. "No, really, I can—" Her sentence was cut short as a harsh, grating cough overtook her, making her whole body convulse. The coughing fit seemed to drain what little strength she had left, and she gasped for breath in its aftermath, her chest rising and falling rapidly. 

Carina's heart ached watching her wife suffer, but she maintained a firm, soothing demeanour. She gently rubbed Maya's back, her touch both comforting and insistent. "Shhh, amore, you need to rest. Let the medicine work. Let us help you." 

“I don’t need help-“ Maya tried to stifle the cough, pressing her lips together and clenching her fists, but it only made things worse. She finally let it out, the sound echoing in the room, making Teddy glance over from her charts with a look of sympathy before discreetly taking a few steps back. 

The coughing had caused wave of pain passed over her, she bit her lip, her eyes filling with tears she couldn't hold back. Her breath hitched as she tried to stifle a sob, but it was no use. The combination of pain, fever, and sheer exhaustion finally overwhelmed her. 

"I just hate feeling like this," she whispered, her voice breaking as her face crumbled up, “I hate being weak." 

Carina tried to calm her down, gently murmuring sweet nothings in her native tongue, an action which usually helped to call her nerves. But May was restless. The movement was enough to send a sharp pain through her ribs, making her gasp sharply. The tears flowed more freely now, her body trembling with each painful sob. "But I can't... I have so much to do... I can't just lie here." 

Maya's shoulders slumped, and she let out a shaky breath. The tears spilled over, and she buried her face in Carina's shoulder, her body trembling with a deep, chesty rough followed by an exhausted sob. "I hate this," she cried. "I hate feeling so weak and useless. I’m meant to be their Captain.” 

The OB rubbed her back soothingly, her own eyes misting over with sympathy. "I know, bambina," she murmured. "I know it's hard love. But you are not weak or useless. You are hurt and sick, and you need time to heal. That's all. That does not make you any less of a captain.” 

After a few minutes of just letting her cry it all out, Maya began to slowly calm down. Eventually her sobs gradually subsided into sniffles, her breathing evening out as she clung to Carina. She was beyond exhausted. The two stayed comfortable together for a moment before Carina could feel Maya’s chest rising rapidly. She looked down and recognised the way her face shifted slightly, her eyes blinking as she fought back the itching in her sinuses' 

The OB smiled sweetly, “You want a tissue bambina?” 

“No, I don’t need—” Maya began, but she didn’t get to finish her sentence before Carina cut her off with a chuckle. 

“Your nose is twitching Mai’.” 

"You’re not fooling anyone, amore," She murmured softly. Her wife’s pale face flushed slightly, whether from embarrassment or the fever, “Just let it out.” 

Ever stubborn, the firefighter tried to shake her head once more, but the any denial was pointless when she was sent forward with an exhausting sounding sneeze. With her dominant arm in a sling, and her reaction speed slowed as an effect of the pain medicine, by the time she’d lifted her opposite hand to cover it had been too late, Carina’s baby-pink scrubs were caught in the crossfire. 

“Poor bambina, bless you. Ugh, I knew you were coming down with something when I heard you snoring the other night.” The doctor mumbled sadly as she reached over to grab a tissue from the nearby table, dabbing it gently beneath the blonde’s nose, “I’m sorry. I should’ve said something, maybe this wouldn’t have happened.” 

Maya only shook her head, the last of her voice scraping from her throat, “t’s not your fault. I should’ve let someone else go in. I-“ 

Carina shushed her gently, “Rest your voice Mai, you need to give your poor throat a break,” She turned to Dr. Altman - who had been finishing up Maya’s paperwork and chart - and gave her a grateful nod, “Thank you Teddy for treating her.” 

Teddy gave her a comforting smile, “I’ve told you already before that your family is my family, Carina. She’s okay to go home once that drip’s finished up. I’ll have an intern bring the discharge papers down in a few hours.” 

The Italian nodded, flashing her an appreciative smile. She mouthed another thank you as Dr. Altman left, closing the door behind her. The two were left alone in the room, Maya’s raspy breathing and damp sniffles the only audible sound. Carina leaned down to press a soft kiss to her messy hair, “Do you want me to plait it for you?” She asked quietly, knowing it would make her feel a little better. 

“Are you sure? I can’t smell but it probably smells of smoke.” The firefighter mumbled, sniffling thickly. 

The OB gave her another kiss, “You know I don’t care about that, are you able to sit forward for me a little bit bambina?”  

Her fingers gently combed through Maya's hair, soothing the tangles with careful, practiced movements. She reached for the small pink bobble on wrist, lifting a section of Maya's hair to start the plait 

As she carefully started weaving the strands into a neat braid, Maya’s nose twitched again, and she turned her head slightly, preparing for the inevitable sneeze. Carina, noticing the movement, quickly grabbed a tissue and held it gently to Maya's nose just in time. 

The sneeze was forceful, and Maya winced at the pain it caused her ribs. Carina kept the tissue in place, wiping away the moisture with a tender touch. 

“Bless you, bella,” Carina murmured, her tone full of affection. She discarded the tissue and continued braiding Maya's hair, her movements slow and deliberate. 

“I’m sorry,” Maya mumbled, turning slightly to look over her shoulder. 

Carina shook her head, a smile playing on her lips. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, Maya. You’re sick, and you’re allowed to be taken care of. You always look after me, sì? Let me do the same for you.” 

It didnt take long for her to finish the rest of her braid and it sat neat and tidy by Maya’s ear, safety out of the way. A much better alternative than her previous mess of tangles. She knew she couldn’t take away the pain and sickness entirely but anything to ease the discomfort she would do. 

Her face lit up as an idea popped into her head, “Do you want me to go get you a drink?” Carina asked kindly, she knew Maya probably hadn’t had time hence her dehydration, “I can run and get you one of those sports drinks you like. The ones with electrolytes?” 

“Can you get me the red berry one?”  

“Of course I can, stay put bella. I’ll be 5 minutes.” The doctor smiled, gently scooting from her place beside Maya, helping her settle back down before leaving the room. Her office wasn’t far away so she knew it wouldn’t take long. 

She had a small fridge in there. One which her kept not only her emergency comfort food in but one she kept a small stock of Maya’s favourite drinks in. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen her wife dehydrated and she always liked to be able to have something on hand. 

After walking swiftly to her office, she made a delighted noise of success when she realised, she did in-fact have the berry flavour that Maya had originally wanted.  

Carina grabbed the chilled bottle, feeling a sense of satisfaction at being able to provide exactly what Maya needed. She knew how much the little things mattered. Maya wasn’t sick often but whenever she was the brunette knew that all the small little acts of kindness was what would made her feel better. 

When she got back to the room, she honestly had expected Maya to have been asleep - the fever reducer Teddy had given her was one that always made patients tired - but her eyes widened as she came back to see her wife straining herself, attempting to stretch over to reach the box of tissues sat on the nearby table. 

“Hey, hey, careful, silly girl.” Carina sighed, coming back to her side 

“I just needed-“ A deep cough interrupted her as Maya failed to reach out for the tissue box, but it was out of her reach with her only useable hand still connected and she gave a defeated sniffle in response, rubbing her knuckles beneath her nose instead. 

Carina shook her head fondly and gave a gentle pout as she picked up the box and set it on Maya’s lap. She swiped a few before the blonde had the chance and held them up to her nose. 

“Blow bella.” 

The firefighter gave her a look and she could see the red flush of embarrassment creeping up her cheeks, “Maya there is nobody else here. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, just let me take care of you for once” Carina murmured in soft reassurance, “You’re safe.” 

Whether it was her little speech, or the fact Maya was simply too sleepy from her medicine to care anymore but she did end up blowing her nose whilst Carina kindly held the tissues for her, carefully cleaning up her face afterwards before pressing a soft kiss to her warm forehead. It did feel a little cooler than earlier now. 

“Good job bambina. That wasn’t too hard, no?” The OB whispered fondly, her hand coming to soothingly massage the blonde’s scalp in just the way she knew always made Maya sleepy. As Maya yawned, Carina remembered the drink she had originally come to collect. She handed it to her, making sure to open the small cap first. 

“Here my love, drink this for me and then you can a sleep, okay?” She murmured, a small grin playing on the lips when the blonde budged up to make room for her on the bed, “Just a few hours and then we’ll get you home as soon as your IV has finished, okay?” 

“Just a few hours?” 

“Yes bambina, just a few hours andthen we’ll get you home and back to bed, okay?” 

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[mayakern]

hey maya! i’m a big fan of your stuff and i have a growing collection of skirts and some pins of yours ^^ i was just wondering, the first skirt i have from you is a cotton blend, (the peony print) and all the others i’ve bought since then are synthetic. i really much preferred the cotton, even with some pilling after wear (though that’s likely on me for not following the wash instructions-) though the synthetic fabric is much lighter when i put things in the pockets the waistband droops, which is kind of disappointing.. anyway, tl;dr, i know you switched manufacturers, but why material?

i’m glad you like my work!

as i said this morning, the old manu skirts were a polyester jersey. this did mimic cotton jersey to a certain extent, but it was always polyester and this was always listed clearly on our store (pretending it was cotton would actually be illegal if we had done that).

you can also read that post to see why we made the switch.

additionally, different manufacturers have different materials they will and won’t work with based on their access and their standards. there are a lot of fabrics our factory won’t work with for either reason. for example, they refuse point blank to make or work with jeans material because it is so bad for the environment.

for your future edification, in general, if you see a garment that is made by a small business and uses that large amount of custom printed fabric and is priced at $50-60 and is claiming to be cotton, in all likelihood they are either lying about the material, they are using suspiciously cheap labor, they are taking an incredibly thin profit margin that isn’t sustainable for most businesses, or the material may contain harmful substances like lead or pfas in order to drive the price point down.

custom printed cotton made with ethical labor is incredibly expensive and custom printing is necessary to achieve our more unique hem design patterns. repeating patterns can be roll printed and this is cheaper but has a higher minimum order requirement and tbh i would still recommend using your best judgement to see where money has been saved in the production process:

does the garment use less fabric or fewer stitches?

are there raw hems?

if you pull on one thread in a seam, does the whole seam unravel?

does it have stretch material, which is harder to sew but fits more bodies, therefor requiring fewer returns?

does the garment require few or no specialty sewing techniques, like sewing elastic or buttons or gussets or darts? (these drive price up a LOT)

was the garment made in china, which does not require the business to pay the same import tariffs that are charged on garments imported from other countries?

does the manufacturer have any certifications for ethical labor, environmental impact, or quality/non-harmful materials?

all of these have a significant impact on a garment’s price

as for the skirt being a bit loose, i recommend using waist tighteners like these if you want a snugger fit.

anyway i’ve answered this question and ones similar to it many times in the past and we have specifically answered this like 3 times in the past 2 days, so this question can take a break—if not forever, then for a significant portion of time. hope this clears up some things for you!

[sootcrow]

I’m gonna ask a bunch of narumistu shippers this but how do you think Iris would react seeing that happen? Also how would your dream Narumitsu wedding play out, and would pearl be invited? I just have so many questions! I also love your art!❤️❤️❤️

congrats on being my first anon haha! I’m honored to be up here with the other narumitsu artists considering I like just got here lmao

I don’t usually talk about these kinds of things of my own accord but I DO think about this literally all the time and I love thinking about character dynamics n stuff so I will take this as permission to talk about some of my thoughts lmao

Iris

If you’re talking about how Iris would react to narumitsu in general, I’ve got a lot of thoughts on the matter

All things considered and as sad as this sounds, I think iris is pretty familiar with this kind of feeling and would handle it well outwardly. Considering the time they spent together in college, I think she would be pretty familiar with Phoenix's feelings about miles and his plans about going into law on top of art, so it's probably not exactly completely unexpected to her

Iris may have had a lot of time to get over him, but also with all that time with zero contact with him until bridge to turnabout, she's never had to address her feelings until she's metaphorically and literally staring the issue right in the face.

Phoenix, on the other hand, is forced to confront this event and any lingering emotions and issues he had afterwards right away. That event was a MAJOR turning point for his whole life. He got accused of murder, he ate glass (cough), his girlfriend apparently hates him ???, he met Mia, and overall everything has been turned upside down for him. He can't just ignore it or forget about it or pretend nothing happened like Iris could, and by now, his feelings have dulled. They definitely both still have lingering feelings about each other, but both of them end up dealing with them in completely different ways

Iris is definitely going to be feeling a LOT of pain over both seeing him again and seeing him with someone else, regardless of how prepared for it she tells herself she is. It's human to hurt when you see someone you cared about move on from you to someone else. There's a lot of guilt and blame that she carries from the incident, ESPECIALLY when she has to confront her emotions and him face to face.

But Iris is not a petty person or a grudge holder, unlike Dahlia, and she cares a lot about Phoenix. She's also not an idiot. As much it makes her heart ache, she knows her chance has passed and that Phoenix has moved on, even if Iris is still working on that herself. She will heal with time. Despite everything, I think she is an incredibly strong person.

Though it's going to hurt (a lot), I think that regardless, she'd be really happy for them.

Wedding

In terms of a wedding I don't actually think about that all too much yet dfjkfhfs I haven't gotten anywhere past the pw trilogy so I don't actually know all too much about anything post-trials and tribulations yet. (despite that I do have a whole narumitsu progression timeline. aside from the pining that they both think is one sided, there is a whole lot of nothing until AFTER the 7 year gap. they don't actually get together until after that. god they are so infuriatingly slowburn i hate them)

Anyways as hilarious as I think "pearl is homophobic" is, she's still a kid. We can't completely fault a kid who doesn't know better and never really had the chance to learn. I think it'd take a lot of work on Maya's part to be able to give her a proper explanation (if nick tried to explain anything he'd just end up getting pearl-slapped and things would go nowhere probably, its all up to maya here), but I figure pearl eventually comes around with some help and is like SUPER involved in everything. Her passion for romance n stuff just gets switched to nick and edgeworth instead of maya and nick

Once I'm more familiar with all of the other characters and the events of post-pw trilogy I'll definitely have a lot more ideas

[upat4amwiththemoon]

Could I please have an imagine where the reader hooks up with Maya Bishop one night. The next morning she starts her new job at station 19 and realizes Maya is her captain. Maya tells her nothing can happen between them again, but the intense chemistry between them is apparent. So after a few months Maya realizes she wants to be with her. They get together and around 6 months later the reader is hurt on the job and has to have surgery. The whole team is worried but Maya is extremely freaked out that she may never get to tell the reader she loves her. Andy (the only person who knows about the relationship) tries to calm her down but Maya ends up revealing the relationship to the others. Then later on both Maya and the reader admit that they are in love with each other. Fluffy and angsty please?

That woman turned her world

Summary: One night stand that leads to the great love story.

Pairing: Maya Bishop x female!reader

Warnings: medical things that I know nothing about, also firefighter things I don’t know anything about, cursing, some angst

Word count: 3619

a/n: guess where I got inspiration from😌

masterlists | guidelines

Y/N wakes up with a groan. She sits up with the cover held tightly against her chest. The blonde laying next to her is still sound asleep. They met at Joe’s Bar last night and then went to Y/N’s apartment to spend the night together.

Flinging her legs over the side of the bed, Y/N stands up and goes to her wardrobe to get clean clothes, still holding the blanket to cover herself. She takes the clothes with her to the bathroom, so they’re ready for her once her shower is over.

Now fully clothed and slightly more energized, Y/N goes back to her bedroom with a toothbrush in her mouth. The blonde is almost done putting on her clothes. “Hey,” she mumbles through the toothpaste, “you kinda have to go. My shift starts soon, at my new job, meaning I can’t be late. So, it was great to meet you, uhm…”

The woman stands up, having all her clothes on now. “Maya.” She extends her hand to Y/N.

“Right. Y/N.” Smiling, she shakes her hand. Clearing her throat, Y/N goes to the bathroom to spit out the toothpaste.

Maya shows up to the bathroom door. “Nice to meet you.”

“Bye, Maya!” Y/N walks right past her, so she can start getting ready for work. Maya chuckles, but leaves, not before grabbing an apple from the fridge though.

Going through all the things in her bag one more time, Y/N makes sure she has everything she needs for her first shift at Station 19. Once everything is ready, she puts on her shoes and jacket, making her way to the station.

Stepping inside the station, one of the firefighters is there to welcome her in. “Hey, you must be the rookie. I’m Andy Herrera.” She gives her hand to shake.

“Not technically a rookie, just a transfer.” Smiling, she takes her hand and shakes it. “Y/N Y/L/N, it’s great to meet you.”

Andy laughs with a nod, making a mental note not to call her a rookie again. She glances at the bad she’s carrying. “I can take you to the locker room, where you can leave your stuff. I’m pretty sure we’re lining up soon.”

“Yes, please.” Following after Andy, they go upstairs and into the locker room, where Andy gives her one of the empty lockers to use. “What happened to your former firehouse?”

“It got shut down, budgeting stuff.” She rolls her eyes while setting her things into the locker.

“The dreaded budgets.” They laugh. “Well, I hope you make yourself feel at home over here. We’re all very excited to have a new member.”

Y/N smiles, closing the locker. “Thanks. I’m excited to be here.”

Andy brings Y/N to the engine room, where the rest of the firefighters are, except for the captain. Introducing her to the others, the group start talking and laughing together, getting along instantly.

“Get in line, 19!” A shout comes from the other side of one of the engines. While going go her place in line, Y/N frowns. The voice sounds oddly familiar. Then, Maya comes up from behind the engine. Y/N’s eyes widen. “We have a new firefighter with us,” Maya’s eyes are trained on the clipboard in her hands, “please give a warm welcome to…” Her eyes meet Y/N’s. “Y/L/N.” Shaking off her surprise, she clears her throat. “Get back to work. Y/L/N, a quick word before you get into action?”

Nodding, Y/N follows Maya into her office. Her heart is beating fast. Truth to be told, she thought she’d never see her again. It was supposed to be a casual one night stand, nothing more.

Maya closes the door and shuts the blinds. They stare at each other, just a bit too close to each other. “This is your new job?” She whispers.

“Yes.” Y/N’s eyes dart over the office. “I didn’t realize you’d be my boss.” She frowns. “I didn’t know you are a firefighter as well.”

Maya sighs, setting her palm over her mouth, calculating the situation. “Okay.” She mumbles, “this,” pointing between themselves, “whatever we did last night, can’t happen again. Are we clear on that?”

“Yes, captain.”

“Good. Go, before any of them start wondering.” Maya opens the door, closing it after Y/N is out the door. “Shit.”

Maya coughs quietly as she walks into the kitchen, making herself known to Andy and Y/N, who are eating and talking together. She goes to the fridge, glancing at the two too many times to say it’s a normal amount. When they laugh, Maya turns to look at them.

“What are we talking about?” Her brows are raised and mouth is in a tight lipped smile. With an apple in hand, she goes to sit down right next to Y/N.

“Just sharing firehouse stories.” One of Y/N’s elbows is leaning on the table, so she could be closer to Andy, who is sitting opposite of her. “Do you have any juicy ones?” She grins.

Humming, Maya leans against the back of her chair, her eyes still stuck on Y/N. This catches Andy’s attention. “Andy destroyed a cop’s car on one of our calls. That cop was also her old boyfriend.”

“Really?” Y/N turns to look at Andy.

“I didn’t destroy it. I just pushed it out of a fire hydrant’s way. That’s on him.” Andy points at her, as if strengthening her point. “Besides, don’t you tell juicy stories about yourself?”

“Ooh, I’d like to hear those.” Raising her brows, Y/N looks at Maya.

Maya grins, but shakes her head. Her eyes still haven’t left Y/N. ”But please, tell me your stories.” When the conversation starts flowing between her and Y/N, Andy studies the two.

The looks they give each other, the small accidental touches Maya does, their tone, it’s all something you wouldn’t normally see between two coworkers. Even friends don’t act like that.

They’re definitely something more.

“Well, I think my break is over, so I have to get back to desk duty.” Y/N smiles, bringing her plate over to the dishwasher. “It was nice talking to you two.” She waves before walking back downstairs.

Andy leans on the table, bringing herself close to Maya so she can talk quietly. “So, what’s the deal between the two of you?” She wiggles her brows.

“Nothing.” Maya states quickly. Too quickly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, come on! That tension almost pushed me out of the room.”

Maya averts her eyes from Andy, she knows the lieutenant can read her well, they’ve been friends for a while now. She sighs. “We…hooked up, before I knew she’d be working here.”

Making a long ooh sound, Andy giggles. “Now that’s a juicy story.”

“It was a one time thing. It won’t happen again, it can’t happen again.”

“What do you mean? You clearly have a thing for her!”

“I’m her captain.” Maya whisper shouts.

“So?”

Staring at her, Maya scoffs, not understanding how Andy isn’t getting it. “So? So I could jeopardize both of our careers!”

“Or maybe you wouldn’t. Don’t you at least want to try?” Andy grabs Maya’s hand over the table. “You deserve to be happy.”

Maya leans her head backwards, groaning. “I have to tell her, don’t I?”

“If you don’t someone else will. She’s great.”

Giving Andy a glare, Maya stands up from the chair and jogs downstairs where Y/N is looking through files while waiting for the phone to ring. She watches her from the stairs, slowing her pace in the last ones as if not to disturb Y/N’s work.

“Hey.” Maya announces herself, stopping right next to Y/N.

“Hi.” She smiles, glancing at her before turning back to work.

Her finger taps the table quietly. Maya is trying to think how to word the thoughts and feelings in her head the best way. After all, she was the one who said they can’t do anything again, and now she has to go back in her words. What if Y/N already found someone else?

“So,” Maya starts, making Y/N look back at her. She hums, realizing she still doesn’t know what to say. “Can I talk to you in my office?”

Y/N frowns, going through everything she’s done during the few months she has worked there. “Sure.” Standing up, she follows Maya into the office. “Have I done something?”

“No.” Maya closes the blinds. “I just wanted to tell you something.” Y/N stays quiet, giving all the time she needs to gather up her thoughts. “I realize I’m the one who said we can’t continue whatever we had going on, but, I have changed my mind.” The words coming out of her mouth are said slower than usual, with more pauses between them. “I like you and would like to try us out.”

Y/N smiles. “I’d like that too.”

“But we can’t tell anyone, except Andy kind of already knows.”

“You got it,” laughing Y/N opens the door, “captain.” With a wink, she goes back to the desk, answering a phone call coming through.

The siren goes off. “Engine 19, ladder 19, aid car 19 requested at the scene, building complex fire.” Y/N runs from upstairs, hopping right into her boots, putting on her suit. She grabs her helmet and climbs into the truck. As the doors shut, Andy starts driving, the other cars following behind her.

The ride to the apartment complex isn’t long, they’re jumping out of the cars after ten minutes of driving. “Okay, 19! Y/L/N and Herrera fire attack, Montgomery and Hughes set up a triage, Gibson, Warren and Miller search and rescue. Get going!” Maya orders as they all get out of the cars.

Y/N and Andy put on their full gear and grab everything they need, before running inside. Going up some stairs, they get to the fire. The hallways are full of fire, so they stay close to each other, at times knocking on the doors and yelling everyone to come out, though it seems mostly empty.

“Over here!” Andy shouts, showing Y/N to turn left with her arm. Y/N follows behind her, squinting her eyes as if it’d help her see better. Her breathing stays calm even when they hear some parts of the roof come down. She knows her oxygen is limited.

Extinguishing one of the fires that has roamed from the original burnin place, they continue forward. Suddenly they hear faint screaming coming from one of the apartments.

“This is Seattle fire department, shout so we can find you!” Andy shouts, pounding on the doors on her way. They listen for the screams, getting closer to the origin of it.

Y/N stops in front of a door with debris in front of it. “It’s coming from here.” She stops Andy, both starting go lift the wood in front of it.

“Gibson, Miller, where are you? We found a person.” Andy talks into the radio as they make their way inside. They find a woman huddled near the door. “We need search and rescue on the sixth floor, does anyone copy?”

“Hey, everything is okay.” Y/N kneels next to her. “We’ll get you out of here.”

Andy groans. “Gibson and Miller are stuck on third floor getting people out.”

Biting the inside of her cheek, Y/N thinks while helping the woman up. “Take her down, I’ll stay here to put out the rest of the fires.”

“What? No!” Andy grabs Y/N’s arm. “The visibility isn’t good, you’ll get lost alone.”

“You need to get her down! She won’t survive up here for long without any gear.” Y/N pushes the woman to Andy. “Get away from here!”

Cursing, Andy takes hold of the woman and leaves. Y/N goes the opposite way, trying to find the rest of the fires. The visibility has gotten even lower. The fires are worsening.

She grunts, extinguishing another fire. A loud crash shakes the upper part of the building, throwing Y/N down to the floor. With a few deep breaths, she gets back up again. Glancing behind her, her heart drops. The way out is blocked.

“Y/L/N, what was that? Are you alright in there?” Maya’s voice comes through the radio.

“I’m okay, but my exit is blocked.” She walks forward, looking for another way out. “Did Herrera and the woman make down safely.”

“They’re down here. Can you find another exit?”

“I’m trying.” Her speed is starting to get slower. The debris on the floor and the heavy smoke are making it difficult to find her way. “Come on.” She mumbles.

Her breath hitches. This isn’t the first time she has had a close call during putting out fires, but this is starting to feel a lot worse than just a close call. When the door forward doesn’t budge, Y/N rams her shoulder into it. And it opens. But a burst of fire comes through, throwing her backwards.

She coughs loudly, feeling the air leaving her lungs. “I found the origin of the fire.” She heaves to the radio. “I don’t think I can put it out. My extinguisher is almost empty and there isn’t one nearby.” Gasping for air, Y/N tries to stand up, but a metallic part of the roof has trapped her leg.

“I don’t care about the fire, you need to get out of there!” Maya’s voice is starting to sound more panicked by the second. “Y/L/N can you hear me?”

“I don’t have a way out.” She mumbles. “My exits are either blocked by fire or debris.” Glancing at her leg, she debates telling about it, deciding against it. “I don’t know if I can get out.”

“Don’t you say that!” Maya commands the other firefighters to do something, but Y/N can’t hear clearly what. “Tell me your exact location.”

“Sixth floor, east side of the building.”

“You need to jump.” Maya states. The radio is starting to turn into static. “We’re inflating the air cushion right now, I just need you to hang on a little bit more until they’re ready.” Y/N breathes heavily. “Do you hear me? That’s an order!”

“Copy that, captain.” Whispering, Y/N puts her radio down.

She sits up and starts pushing the metal piece. Groaning in pain. Her breathing is starting to pick up from the heat. She knows there isn’t more air left in her tank. With a scream, the metal piece is finally off her foot. Tears are starting to gather in her eyes. Whether they’re from the heat or pain or frustration, Y/N doesn’t know. Maybe from all of them.

Using the rest of the extinguisher, she puts out the fire closest to her. Crackling sounds have started to come from the biggest fire. “Is the cushion ready?”

“Any second!” She can hear Maya throw commands around, her voice loud and frustrated. The tension is high. Everyone can hear their conversation through the radios. ”I need you to get ready, the c-“

The radio shuts down. “Maya? Maya!” Y/N yells to the radio, but no luck. No one can hear her anymore.

With her last bite of strength, Y/N stands up. She backs up to the wall, mostly hopping. Her leg can’t hold any weight without agonizing pain. It must be broken.

She counts to three and starts running towards the window. Yelling in pain. She can’t get enough speed without using both of her legs. There’s a loud explosion. The fire is creeping closer to her in a quick speed.

Right when the fire licks the back of her jacket, Y/N bursts through the window, the fire coming out right behind her. She can feel the heat. All she can do is hope she’ll land safely.

All she can see is the sky and the fire. She knows she’s falling down, but somehow she can’t feel it. Black spots are clouding her vision. For the moment she doesn’t feel any pain. Soon after, she doesn’t feel anything.

“Y/N! Y/N!” Maya steps on the side of the cushion to bring it down. With some struggle, she makes her way over to Y/N. “No, no, no.” She mumbles after noticing the firefighter in front of her is unconscious. “I need an aid car right now!”

Andy appears right next to her. Together they pull Y/N down from the cushion and straight into a stretcher. Noticing the fear in Maya’s face, Andy grabs her radio. “We need to go! 23 and 15 have to finish this.”

Station 23 is already blasting water at full speed towards the fire, while most of 15 are helping people in the triage. Maya and Andy get into the back of the aid car with Y/N, while Victoria and Travis are at the front. The rest are driving the truck behind them after getting the green light from the captains of 23 and 15.

They arrive to the hospital quickly, where a group of doctors take the lead of the situation, bringing Y/N to a trauma room, while the firefighters get taken into a separate room where they can wait.

Maya paces around the room. Her face is hard. The other are sitting, waiting worriedly for any kind of news. It’s already been an hour and they’re getting more worried. “Maya,” Andy whispers, trying to get her attention, “Sit down.”

“I can’t sit down.” Maya grumbles, her arms crossed over her chest.

“She’ll be okay, Maya, they j-“

“And what if she won’t be okay?” Her loud voice grabs everyone’s attention. They’re surprised by the outburst. Of course, they are all incredibly worried, but Maya seems terrified. “What if she dies, huh? She can’t die!”

Victoria scrunches her brows. “Maya, she won’t die. They have the best doctors here. She’ll be fine.”

Maya scoffs and shakes her head. “She can’t die.” Her voice cracks and face falls from the hard exterior.

“Maya.” Ben says quietly. “Are you two-?” He doesn’t finish the sentence, but everyone knows what he is asking.

Stopping her pacing, Maya stares at the wall in front of her. They wait for her answer, though they can already guess what is it. Andy watches her with a frown. “Yes.” Maya sniffs, going back to her walking back and forth. No one says anything after that.

Soon after that, Doctor April Kepner, a trauma surgeon, walks into the room. Everyone stands up, wanting to know how their friend is. “Y/N Y/L/N is finally put of surgery, she had a broken leg and some complications from close proximity with fire, but, she is okay.”

Everyone is relieved. Some of them laugh in happiness. “Can we see her?” Maya asks right away.

April nods, “one at a time preferably to give her some space.” Andy sets her hand on Maya’s back, nodding at her. Maya smiles and follows April into the room they’re keeping Y/N in. “Someone will come check up on her in a while.” She says, opening the door fro Maya before leaving to give them privacy.

Taking a deep breath, Maya walks in. She wipes her palms to her pants before sitting to the chair next to the bed. Y/N hasn’t opened her eyes yet, but her chest moving up and down gives Maya comfort. She grabs her hand.

Y/N lets out a groan as she wakes up. She opens her eyes slowly and turns to look at Maya. “Hey.” She smiles. Her voice is still weak and hoarse, but it sounds better than before.

“Hi.” Maya is sitting at the edge of her seat. “You scared me.” Her thumb rubs the back of Y/N’s hand.

She giggles, but starts coughing at the middle of it. Maya stands up, she pours water to a mug and helps Y/N drink it. “Sorry.” She mumbles as Maya puts the glass away.

“Don’t apologize.” Maya sits back down, this time to the side of the bed. “You almost died.” She whispers. Tears are gathering in her eyes as she finally internalizes what happened. “I thought you died.”

“I’m okay.” Y/N grabs Maya’s hand with a smile. There’s still pain when she moves too much, but she masks it not to worry her.

Shaking her head, Maya tightens the hold on Y/N’s hand. “You could’ve died and then I would’ve never gotten the chance to tell you I love you.”

They stare at each other with wide eyes. Maya is nervous. She wasn’t sure she’d actually say it out loud, but now it feels like a weight has been lifter off of her chest. “I love you too.” Y/N smiles.

Maya grins, leaning down and leaning her hands on the bed, leaving Y/N’s head between them. Gently, she kisses her, careful not to put any extra weight on her. Y/N’s hair goes to Maya’s hair. When they pull away, they stay close to each other.

“You better not pull anything like that again, that is an order.” She mumbles.

“Heard loud and clear, captain.” Y/N grins, kissing her again before pushing her away. “Now please, I want to see the others too.”

“Yeah,” Maya stands up, “they were really worried too. You’re part of out family after all.” Y/N watches her leave the room with a smile on her face, glad to have a roomful of people behind her.

[not-quite-normal]

If the animation was made in Maya, how can I replicate it? It would be nice to have some kind of tip on how to do it

assuming you mean spiderverse, yes it was animated in maya! we use a special cut of maya at sony though, which has a lot of pipeline tools built for very specific purposes. you won't be able to find any of these tools online, though there may be some that others have built to try and replicate the style. i'm not sure though, i haven't looked

it's still possible to mimic the look without all the fancy tools though, it just takes some technical know-how. the main thing that'll make your animation look spiderversey is animating on twos, which you can do a couple of ways:

animate in stepped, putting a keyframe on every other frame

animate as you normally would on ones (or splined) and then bake your animation on twos

the tool that we use for this is called StepSets, which allowed us to animate however we wanted and then choose which frames we wanted to see and which ones we wanted to hold. most of the time all characters were on twos, but for a character like hobie, StepSets allowed us to put his main body on threes, and a separate StepSet for his guitar prop on fours

another thing to keep in mind if you animate anything on twos, is how it looks in relation to camera movements. if your camera is moving a lot, the character will look like they're strobing in screen space because the camera is on ones. our tool for this allowed us to sort of attach the character to the camera so that they were held in screen space during their held frame. you can easily do this on your own just using constraints! we had to build a tool for this because of how the sony pipeline works with cameras and constraints

other things that can help your animation look more spiderversey are multiples, smears, and inklines. we had to develop all kinds of tools to create these in 3D and to make sure these went down the pipeline properly, but if you're just having fun doing personal work, i'd recommend just drawing these overtop of your animation

there's more to the spiderverse style than just this technical stuff as well! but this post is already long enough haha so i might save that for another time :)

[lamuradex]

Friday Kiss Tag!!!

Thank you @the-golden-comet for the tag. Luckily I've got something just for this.

Rules: From your Story/WIP, share a kiss. It can be any kiss, from familial pecks on the cheek, forehead kisses, platonic smooches, to full-blown makeouts.

If you don’t have a kiss to share, no worries! You can treat this tag like a writing share instead! ✨

Rules: Share a snippet of your Story/WIP!

Alright, so Friday Kisses. As followers may know, I've recently been working on a Scary short story, Lucid and Dreaming, to post on Halloween. And this story does contain a couple, so...

Let's have some dream kisses, shall we? Or just one. A small sample of the story I'll be posting.

I try to focus. If you really focus, you can sometimes control it. Change the dream. And I want to relive something. I concentrate and keep walking. The street becomes a park. The park shouldn’t be anywhere near this street, but it doesn’t matter. There she is. My best friend, Ashley. Well, more than a best friend now. We made it official last week, when she kissed me on that very bench. We’d been dancing around it for weeks and finally… I want to relive that kiss. I want to live in that moment again. Her look of shyness, her hurried explanation. Her light brown skin, deep brown eyes, and that silky chocolate hair, all so perfect in the afternoon light. That smile, those lips, the ones she insists on painting red. Like an invitation. And those words seared into my brain. “I know we’ve known each other a long time, but I can’t keep pretending. Things are different now. You know, after that party a few weeks ago… when we almost…” “What are you saying, Ash?” “I’m saying… I really did want to, that night, and it wasn’t just the beer talking. I wanted to kiss you. I… like you, Maya. Like, a lot. I really like you.” I remember blushing. The heat replays in my cheeks in the dream. “Really?” “Yes!” she exclaims, punching me in the arm. “Oh my god, as if it weren’t obvious. I’ve been staring at you ever since.” “I noticed.” “And you’ve been freaking flirting with me. Just… I didn’t want to ruin what we have. You’re my best friend, May.” “And you’re mine too. But that doesn’t mean our friendship is ending. It’s just… gotten deeper. More interesting. More… intimate.” I sit back, arms behind my head, casual as I can be. Girlfriends are nothing new to me… unfortunately. A string of bad luck there. But Ashley has only been out of the closet a couple of years. And I loved her even before that. Have to play it a little cool, not freak her out. “More intimate?” she asks. “Yeah. It means… we get to do stuff. And be together. And kiss.” Ashley’s eyes widen. I almost laugh. I would have laughed had I not been just as terrified. “I’d… I’d like that,” she says finally. “Like we were going to at the party?” “Kiss me. Right now.” I remember it well. It plays out in the dream. I didn’t even have time to ask a question, her hand just grabs my chin, spins my head, and her ruby painted lips plant against my beige ones. Softness, gentleness, a thrill like lightning down my spine. And I relive it all in the dream. And then she pulls away. Her phone buzzes. I still curse that phone sometimes. She leaves. I am alone, but I don’t feel alone. Not anymore. I want to relive it again. Live in the dream. Live in that moment forever.

And so that's a sample of Lucid and Dreaming, short horror story to be released on the 31st. It's a little romantic, a lot creepy, and a bit of a mindfuck.

Anyway Tagging:

@wintherlywords @stephtuckerauthor @fayeiswriting @mikathewriter @sableglass @agirlandherquill

By the way, if anyone doesn't want to be tagged, or alternatively would love to be tagged, feel free to let me know. Currently I'm just tagging Writeblr mutuals, as best as I can work out.

[salty-lemon-shark-from-the-sea]

Maya and the three (Chimi x Painter Reader)

(Plotanic or Romantic)

Looking down at your map you let out another groan. “Where is it?” you whisper to yourself. Rolling the map back up you place it in your bag before setting it on the ground. Sliding down the side of a tree you close your eyes to rest under it’s shade.

Snap

The sound of a twig snapping and awoke you up in time as it hits your head. Looking up you catch a glimpse of a human leg. “Oh, hey!” you call out standing up to try and find the human. “Can you help me?” you ask grabbing your map. “I'm looking for the Jungle Lands,” you explain. After a while of standing there looking like an idiot you turn getting ready to head on your way.

Turning around you were meet face to face with a girl who had pale skin and red eyes. Taking a step back she takes one forward and sniffs you. “Hello,” you say sticking your hand out. Sniffing your hand the girl leaves and crawls towards your bag seeing all of the sealed pots and what little food you had left.

“Hey that's my stuff!” you exclaim rushing over and gabbing your bag careful to not break anything in it. “Why do you have so many pots?” the girl asks reaching towards one. “It's paint,” you answer short to the point. “What's with so much paint?” “What's with all the questions?” you retort. Now holding eye contact neither of you back down. “I'm (Reader) by the way,” you introduce yourself.

Looking you up and down the girl stands to her full height. “ I’m (insert animal noise),” she answers, but after seeing your confused look she quickly says her name is Chimi blushing a bit. “What a nice name,” you say. “And such beautiful skin,” you comment walking around her.

“What?” she asked irritated. “Sorry it's not like I'm going to steal your skin or anything!” you explain waving your hands before going to your back and grabbing a pot. “It's just such a pretty pale color, and I've worked on a lot of skin before with different colors and textures. All beautiful in their own way, but yours is unique,” you ramble. “May I paint on it?” you ask now turned towards her.

You could see a faint blush on her cheeks as she looked at you with wide eyes. “Oh I'm sorry I was rambling I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable!” you quickly explain placing the pot back down. “You like my skin?” Chimi ask. “Yes, who wouldn't,” “My village they think of a monster, El Monster Blanco, to be exact,” she explained. “Where are you from?” you asked worried of the answer.

“The Jungle Lands,” Chimi replies. A silence falls over you two as you both stand under the tree. “My offer still stands,” you say. Looking at you carefully Chimi moves to sit on a nearby stone. “Okay,” she answers. “Really?” you ask as you grab different pots from your bag and set them next to you. “Yes,” she answers watching you as you move around grabbing brushes.

“Yeah is there anything you want in particular?” you ask holding a brush. “Lady Micte,” Chimi say closing her eyes waiting for you to start. “It might be a bit cold,” you warn dabbing your brush in black paint. Chills were sent up Chimi spine as your brush touches her face. “I warned you,” you laugh a bit trying to keep a steady hand causing her to laugh quietly too.

“If you don't mind. May I ask why you want to look like Lady Micte?” you ask. “When I was born my mother died and I wish to see her again, the only way for that is through Lady Micte,” Chimi explains. “Wow, but who do you live with now,” you say dipping your figures in different colors before poking Chimi in the face causing her to bat at your hand. “The forest animals,” she says. Looking around you take notice of different animals hiding in the bushes watching you. After a while of just being in a comfortable silence you pull back looking at your work.

“Done!” you explain proud of your work. Rushing you your bag while almost tripping on a pot of teal paint you grab a mini mirror you have. “How do you like it?” you ask holding the mirror out for Chimi to take and see her new face paint. “Wow,” she whispers imprisoned by how the flower petals look so real and the gold detail. “It's amazing,” she answers look I at the bones in her arms and legs.

“Wonderful I'm sure the Jungle Land Queen with be proud of my work then,” you say putting the pots and brushes back in your bag. “Do you just travel and paint faces?” Chimi ask. “Pretty much I started out small, but after my sibling pushed me to show off my work I've started traveling and painting, not just faces but portraits, for people. In return they give me food and sometimes a place to sleep,” you explain throwing your bag back on your shoulders.

“Now I must be on my way, but it was nice knowing you Chimi and truly I do find your complexion to be one of the prettiest I've ever seen,” you say bowing down. “I-i can take you to the jungle lands,” Chimi says. “Really?” you ask standing back up. “Just wait here,” she orders jumping into the tree grabbing a bow and some arrows.

●◦●◦●◦●◦●◦●◦●◦●◦●

The two of you now stand on the outskirts of the village hidden in the shadows. “Thank you Chimi,” you say turning towards the girl. “No problem,” she answers turning to leave. “Wait!” you call out rushing to her sides. “Here,” you say handing her a pot of purple and another gold. “As a thank you gift. It's not much, but to a painter, these are some of the hardest colors to get,” you say.

“Don't you need them?” Chimi asks looking down at the pots. “Nah I have spare and the recipe on how to make more,” you explain waving your hand dismissively. “Thank you,” She says holding the paints closer. “Of course, and hey I promise to visit when I get the chance,” you say turning to leave. “See yay!” you call out as you leave heading into the village. “Bye,” Chimi quietly says waving her hand as Monkey slides down next to her. “Maybe not all humans are bad,” Chimi says turning to leave before anyone sees her.

[plushietoon]

How about 4?

(Because of the reblog)

Hope everything's fine! ✌️

WarioWare Fan Ask Game!

4. Do you have any personal headcanons or interpretations of the characters? (In relation to design, hobbies, connections to other characters, etc)

Tagging @freakattack since they asked about this too. But I will squeeze in more headcanons in that post >:3 (please do not worry I will indulge in stuff here too)

I've been obsessed with this series since 2018, so I have like, about 6 years of headcanons. This does not include me goofing off with the Thangs in my youth, though I love them dearly. ...it's just that this love is overshadowed by ninjas.

Here's a chunk of headcanons:

Orbulon is squishy and very capable of transformation. I'm stealing the idea from @the-ren-amamiya that he cannot change his eyes when transforming into other beings so he still just wears his shades. He fluctuates between both lanky and chubby depending on his mood, but I like thinking of a middle ground between the two...like give him his boots back, please...

Him, Red, and Ana have gotten into transformation antics because we cannot forget that Red is both Ashley's wand and broom. It is very hard to beat those three when they are hiders in hide and seek. I like @scarlett-v-the-fox's idea that Red's transformations must contain the color red somewhere on him. So between that and Orbulon's eyes, only Ana can do a perfect 1 to 1 transformation when she feels like it.

In speaking of Ana, she's a bit like Ash's Pikachu because she likes contorting herself to partially resemble others to emphasize who's she's (or Kat are) talking about. That or she has a non verbal episode...she has quite a few moments where she doesn't want to talk, or simply can't. Yes I am a bit of a believer she has some neurodivergence, because I am in that boat of being neurodivergent and she has the vibes™.

Shadow was specifically bred to be a dog that's an expert in ninjutsu. Most doggos can't quite just turn into a sword. So in a sense, he's an inheritance from the ninja parents...or clan. Honestly I should pull up my notes on how...distant the parents are...if I can find them.

If you know me, you know I am very fixated on the idea that Ana and Lulu end up as besties. Ana still loves Kat. It's just that on the few occasions where Kat isn't around, there was a time Ana latched onto Lulu 'cause next best thing...that and they both love wearing dresses and eating. Ana cannot talk Kat into the whole frilly dress up time. It may not make full sense in most's lores and maybe even canon, but the one I developed with a close friend has those two also be supportive of one another in developing a sense of self. ...I really need to finish that fic where as (pre?) teens where pageant violence happens. ...It's not exactly as exciting as it sounds, but let's just say Ana defended Lulu who was being harassed by others for not being conventionally pretty.

I used to believe that the Thangs literally lived in Club Sugar. It's a tall building, and I tried to recreate that in the Sims 4. That isn't true anymore but Mr. Sugar still has to deal with the Thangs on a 20/7 basis. Also Mr. Sugar has a instagram for his kitty Bochi.

Miyakiyo has a YouTube Channel featuring her dog Jack, the doggo in the "Shake!" microgame from the first game. It's very much like like Maya the Polar Bear, and it's quite popular. She took advantage of the fact that WarioWare featured Jack in a microgame, especially because Wario ain't paying the royalties to feature that doggo. Of course, the twins are still good friends with Miyakiyo and Jack. I just haven't quite decided Miyakiyo's age.

Bridget and Sal Out are rivals...but are much friendlier to each other compared to how Vanessa treats them and Mona.

The doctor from "Listen to the Doctor" has 2 offices, with the one at Caresaway Isle as his vacation workplace. The nurse he works with tends to the one in Diamond City when he's away to that island. Yes he is absolutely the primary care doctor to all of the WarioWare cast.

I have a lot but I'll share more in other posts. Again, got 6 years of being fixated on this series. Feel free to ask for any specifics and what not!

[sapphosdickandballs]

Amy new OC stuff queen? 👀

I’m trying to figure out how I want a major story point to go. Firstly, you’re gonna need some maya backstory.

Maya’s mom is terminally ill with a rare disease. She’s one of the only members of the siren species with this kind of illness, and the only one to have lived as long as she has after being diagnosed (10 years so far) she is barely able to breathe, let alone swim, so she stays in their cove most of the time. 

Since they don’t know what causes this illness, Maya has convinced herself that she will get it too at the same age as her mom (her mom was in her twenties when she got sick) so she has a very devil may care attitude. She does whatever she wants since she figures she won’t be alive to reap the consequences. She also goes through life trying to bond with as few people as possible (Jack managed to grasp her despite that but she still has some walls up with them despite being friends for many years) because she is scared deep down of having to leave them.

Copied from my notes so if there’s mistakes it’s a less sexy version of me that did it. Anyway! Her and Jack are gonna go do Things throughout the story, and I’m thinking a big story point could be that something happens with her mom and she has to go back home. The thing is I can’t decide if I want to kill her mom or make her better. Lemme describe my thought process and then I’d like y’all’s input

Pros for killing her - I’d get to put Grief into my story and I do kinda wanna write that, I think it’d be cathartic maybe, and just overall good for the story and the development of the characters. Plus it would prolly be more realistic.

Pros for curing her - I think it would be a little less predictable, I’d get to write Maya realizing her actions kinda have more consequences than she was ready for, she could grapple with like “oh my moms okay I should be relieved why aren’t I”

I feel like either could work but I CANNOT decide so.

@foxonrollerskates @pulim-v y’all are interested in my ocs right. What is y’all’s opinion?

[thefirstknife]

Ouuugh Veil Log time!

Chioma: Chioma Esi, research log: the Veil. She did it! Maya connected people to the Veil. Our own scientists. And they survived. I should be happy, but... happy that all this horror wasn't for nothing? But I'm not. I'm disgusted. In myself. In Maya. In all of us. This thing, the Veil. It's... it's some kind of web of consciousness. Just like the Vex network, but organic instead of artificial. It makes sense why the Vex want it. Paracausal simulations? There'd be no stopping them. I should be happy. To-to be a part of history, to solve a cosmic riddle. Happy for May; happy for all of us. But I'm not. I don't feel anything. Maya is gone. The woman I knew... may as well have died when we landed on Neptune. But her ghost still haunts me... this place. I don't know what to do. There's a generation of children born here now. This is their home. [sighs] I don't know what to do. Nimbus: Damn. Osiris, this is... I don't know if I want to listen to this anymore. Osiris: Obsession is a beast with long, sharp talons. A beast that does not so easily release its prey. Maya Sundaresh is... but one victim. Nimbus: That sounds like you're talking from experience. Osiris: Painfully so. But unlike Dr. Sundaresh, I found a way out of the beast's grasp, before it was too late. Nimbus: How? Osiris: By losing.

First, I absolutely love how Osiris continues to identify with Maya and how he analyses his own obsession through hers. Shoutout to my bestie's older post analysing Osiris through the lens of OCD and pointing out his obsessions. I also want to point out the continued theme of Lightfall being grief and loss with what Osiris says at the end. I love Nimbus and Osiris together, their little chat at the end of each log is a great addition.

Onto the rest. This is the base of the CloudArk; Maya managed to get people to survive the integration with the Veil to access this web of consciousness. It's also additionally described as being like the Vex network, but "organic" instead of artificial. I wonder if that means something more about the nature of the Veil. Even if not, the CloudArk and the Vex network operate on such a closely linked basis that it's possible to easily jump from one to the other. This is fascinating stuff and possibly super important going forward: important for our understanding of the portal, the realm beyond the portal, the Vex and our abilities to fight against dangers that the Veil opens up for us.

Chioma also offers an explanation for why the Vex want the Veil which is super interesting. The Veil can offer paracausal simulations! Of course the Vex would want that. It would allow them to finally move into simulating paracausality or simulating things that paracausality affects.

Chioma's additional despair about future consequences of this for all who will continue to live on Neomuna are haunting. Neomuna seems fine to us now and their civilisation doesn't show any explicit sign of issues related to this. The CloudArk works fine and from the time of these initial experiments, it has only grown and expanded. If there are any negative consequences happening or waiting to happen, the people on Neomuna have yet to see them. No wonder Nimbus has a hard time listening to this.

And of course, depending on how in depth the remaining logs go into the CloudArk, this may or may not end up being something important for us later. Perhaps something we could go on to explore. I would love to see the CloudArk from the inside and Quinn Laghari even contemplated putting us in there once!

I’ve read some academic studies on Veil transcription of the collective unconscious. I bet if I put you in cryo, I could—

It would be cool if we could actually do that. And who knows, maybe we will, especially if in order to get into the portal, we have to "upload" our consciousness in there, rather than going in physically. Since I wrote this, we actually did find out about the Witness and finding out that it's a whole species that merged its consciousness together into one entity, an entity that also connects all other points in Darkness like the Pyramids, this seems like an even more intriguing idea.

[nerdieforpedro]

Weekend Update - 12/24/2023 Christmas Eve

Hey Nerdie! You’ve got some bags there.

I do both under my eyes and Din finally let me look through the ones he’s been using. It’s….Mandalorians are wild.

I feel like they’re not Nerdie, at least not how you’re thinking. Should we even ask?

Has to do with what I’ve written this week:

Weddings 101 with Dieter - chapter 3 came out this week. There was a fight that I still giggle about. There will be more, I’m loving the beef between Dieter and Oscar. There had to be some type of fight in the rom-com. 🤭 There was also cloud smut? I don’t know how else to put it. Ya’ll read it and tell me what it was.

Sard’ika Sessions - In Session Four Din put together something in the reader’s house. They may use it again. Liberties are taken with the Creed and Mandalorian culture though not too crazy. (That might be for an epilogue.) I’d like to thank everyone who’s been reading since Session one (we’ve come so far from thigh-riding) and are now on the latter end where our Session partners are exploring each other but communication as well. It was really sweet to read people’s comments and see that they picked up on how well they communicate with each other while indulging in their sexual appetites. I’d like to think it’s come across how I planned it originally when I scribbled all of this in my notebook at 4am when I couldn’t sleep in November after Thanksgiving of all things. We’ll see how things continue to progress.

I have a poll up for “Weddings 101 with Dieter” to determine what might go into chapter four. I’m enjoying everyone’s comments and options on what should happen with both Dieter/Maya and Dieter vs. Oscar. Click the link above to vote and have your suggestions added. I’ll announce the results and the most voted will be put in. I’ll likely add some of the other suggestions because I like them so much. ☺️

Remember Frankie~ (I read something new and caught up on a few things. Some of which weren’t even related to our favorite pilot. My mind went deep into smut. As a warning, don’t read while multi-tasking! Though I take it as a point of pride to have someone forget their name while on a call. 😉) They knew who they are. 😎 Love ya! ❤️

Nerdie’s Bedtime Stories (Might be a new series for weirdness I think up and might read to someone. This was a Christmas Carol featuring some of the Pedro boys. A Feral Carol as @maggiemayhemnj called it.) @undercoverpena and @morallyinept encouraged me. 🤣

You put a lot of thought into what you write. We really thought it was only the non-smut stuff you thought hard on. You’ve indicated you have trouble with that before.

It’s not so much I have trouble with it. I’m used to doing one-shots and exclusivity writing smut before I joined back up on Tumblr. I’m branching out and trying all sorts of smut and actual storylines (when I can make it coherent to anyone but myself) in my writing now. Even comedy with Dieter though I like to put little jokes in most of my writing.

Ah, so you’re learning as you go on as we all do. Fair. Any current WIPs you’re trying to finish up before 2023 is out?

Well, I have a Pickled Peña to finish. Everyone’s welcome to join in and write about our favorite DEA agent Javier Peña. Everyone who’s participating will post on January 1st and tag their work with the “pickled peña” tag.

I’m also participating in the PMAMC 2024 which is in mid-January. I decided to challenge myself with not only writing about pegging but also writing with a character I’ve only written for once and in his historical setting, because past Nerdie who accepted this was feeling ambitious. 😗 Present Nerdie wonders what was she thinking. 🧐 She also has to review her notes on what may have been used to facilitate pegging during the time period, there’s a long note I have on it. It should be mostly historically accurate, I guess, because that’s what matters. 👀 In pegging - the historical aspect. 😒

I have two Robbie Reyes asks to work on as well as one smut piece I wanted to do for him and one actual story.

There are three Joel pieces that I wanted to write, one will be tabled until next Christmas. I don’t think I’ll finish it by tomorrow. The second was a post outbreak one, I’ve only written post outbreak once so I want to see if it will be a one short or series. The third one might be finished. I need to edit it.

Anything else will likely be tabled until 2024 because I either don’t have ideas for it or I want to wait until I feel good about writing it. 😊

Any last remarks?

I’d like to thank any and all of my beta readers: @avastrasposts @musings-of-a-rose @frenchiereading @theywhowriteandknowthings @megamindsecretlair @pedrodascal @iamasaddie @fhatbhabie and @morallyinept @legendary-pink-dot

Ya’ll saw all the typos, swapped countries and off beat plot points. 😗

Also @linzels-blog don’t worry The Creed is fine. Mostly I believe. Like it will all work out. 😉

I usually add fics I’ve read this week but I’m going to organize them and put them in another fic rec post because I have them saved there already. 😎

The above wallpaper was made by @xxhypersomnia who did two sets of awesome retro Javier Peña edits on her page. 🥰 She even tagged me in the second one which I have to look at later when I’m home.

[pinksinsila]

~ I'm a random artist on the internet ~

My name is Deen! I'm just some guy posting art of my OCs, I like keeping my art blog clean so I reblog things on my alt, @deen-deenie. Here's some stuff about me:

❀ 21 years old, I try to stay relatively safe for work most of the time but the themes in some of my work aren't appropriate for younger audiences

❀ they/them, non-binary lesbian aka queer

❀ Romanian living in Denmark, RO/ENG OK (trying to learn Danish)

❀ I draw in Paint Tool SAI Ver. 2 (my tablet is a HUION Kamvas GT-191 v1), I animate videos in Toon Boom and gifs in Photoshop, I do video editing in Vegas Pro/After Effects

❀ Wannabe indie animation maker, projects still in development, you'll learn more later ✨

❀ I do art commissions, but they are currently closed, more information here: pinksinsila.dk/commissions

❀ I also post in other places, you can find all of my socials linked here: pinksinsila.dk/links

⬇ Below you can see all my blog tags ⬇

General tags

❀ #pink sinsila - all of my art

❀ #deen brainmelt - non-art posts

❀ #pinksinsila sketches - my not-fully finished art

❀ #pinksinsila non-oc - my art that isn't of my OCs

❀ #pinksinsila sona + friends - my art of my sona (sometimes my friend's sonas too)

❀ #pinksinsila disasters - posts about OCs part of both my Disasters projects

❀ #disasters the narrative - posts about OCs part of "Disasters: The Narrative"

❀ #disasters the underground - posts about OCs part of "Disasters: The Underground"

Character tags

All my characters have 2 to 4 tags I use for them, the format is "pink sinsila [character name]" and "disasters [character name]", if I posted something about a character they are tagged.

Here are the tags for my main ocs:

❀ Christian/Chris: #pinksinsila chris, #pink sinsila christian, #disasters chris , #disasters christian

❀ Spring: #pinksinsila spring, #disasters spring

❀ Brian: #pinksinsila brian, #disasters brian

❀ Alex: #pinksinsila alex, #disasters alex

❀ Maya: #pinksinsila maya, #disasters maya, (for their bat form) #disasters mayabat

❀ Jeremy: #pinksinsila jeremy, #disasters jeremy, (for his bat form) #disasters batjammy

Some post may not show up even if properly tagged, I'm not sure why