#the character designs for this would be off the charts

[parisoonic]

sunday shitpost

[fishing-lesbian-catgirl]

Girl who can’t stop thinking about how arknights characters would play in a fighting game.

[synthetic-sonata]

its awesome being into a thing with a small cult(??? ig) following but it also means if you dont like someone's characterization you can outright talk about it or else youll be a dick . Except almost everyone has bad characterization of your favorite character and you're about to kill someone

[cosmiclily]

hii - jst wanted to say girl Ur writing is *chef's kiss* okok so i saw requests were open and im a SUCKER for actors au arcane soooo could u write a actor vi x co star!fem reader?? could it be a lil not like enemies but at first their energies don't match, but they soon learn to like eachother. on the premiere they were seen together and get asked questions abt eachother. vi keeps her hand on co star's waist whispering in her ear. idkkk jst some fluff plsss

- btw i was the anon who asked for the domestic vi teehee 🤭

love your work, xx

play pretend

✰ vi x f!reader

wc: 6.2k

notes: (snoopy pfp twins!!!) first of all, thank you !!!!!! and also your requests are so good i always have fun writing them😭😭 second, kinda got a little too excited about the request lol

If anyone watched Complex without doing any prior research, they would undoubtedly say that you and Vi had undeniable chemistry. The tension, the longing glances, the way you played off each other—it was electric. So electric that after the movie was released, the audience wanted more and more from the two of you.

But off-screen? Things weren’t nearly as perfect.

At first, Vi had been thrilled to work with you. She had been a fan for years, and when her manager called her about the role—and, more importantly, who she’d be working with—she couldn’t say yes fast enough. She had pictured smooth sailing, late-night script reads, inside jokes, maybe even the start of a great friendship.

What she hadn’t pictured was the absolute nightmare that was your first meeting.

You were thirty minutes late to the chemistry read, walking in with a sour expression and barely sparing her a glance. No pleasantries, no introductions—you simply read your lines (flawlessly, of course), nodded at the director, and walked right back out. Vi had sat there, script still in hand, completely thrown.

Things did not get better from there.

The two of you bickered about everything. Blocking, line delivery, even what music should play between takes. It was like you had been designed to push each other’s buttons.

And then there was the first kiss rehearsal.

Vi, in all her brilliance, had eaten a tuna sandwich right before the scene.

The second you leaned in and caught the scent, you recoiled so fast you nearly toppled over. "Are you serious?!" you had shouted, fanning your face as if that would somehow make the stench disappear.

Vi? She had lost it.

She laughed so hard she had to physically hold onto the set piece to keep herself upright. It took a full ten minutes and an entire pack of breath mints for you to even consider going through with the scene.

But as much as you bickered, there was no denying it—the chemistry was off the charts. The moment the cameras started rolling and you weren’t Y/N and Vi anymore, something clicked. Suddenly, you were two best friends hopelessly in love, bound by circumstances that would never allow them to be together. It was raw, it was emotional, and it was so frustrating for the director.

"Cut!" Frank shouted, exasperation dripping from his voice. As soon as the word left his mouth, you immediately stepped away from Vi, your longing expression vanishing like it had never been there.

"You delivered your last line too late," you huffed, flipping through your script. "The silence was awkward."

Vi rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. "It’s called dramatic tension. Like my character is hesitating before saying it. You don’t know art."

You scoffed. "That’s bullshit."

"Oh my god," Frank groaned, rubbing his temples. "Can’t the two of you just stop?"

Both of you turned to face him, blinking as if you hadn’t just spent the last five minutes arguing.

"If I hadn’t sunk so much goddamn money into this movie," he continued, his face red with frustration, "and if your chemistry on screen wasn’t so damn perfect, I would’ve fired you both by now! This is insane! You can’t go three seconds without fighting!"

You and Vi exchanged a glance—one that probably lasted all of two seconds before she smirked and you scoffed again.

This was going to be a long shoot.

Later, after finally wrapping for the day, you were in your dressing room, peeling off your character’s persona and replacing it with your own. You had just finished touching up your lipstick in the bright vanity mirror when your manager, Mel, stormed in—her expression immediately telling you she did not bring good news.

"Frank is fuming," she announced, crossing her arms. "Livid. He says you're a brat who thinks she runs the set, and that Vi has the humor of a twelve-year-old boy."

You let out a small snort, not even bothering to look at her. "Well, he’s not wrong about Vi."

Mel shot you a glare. "What the hell are you two doing? How are you supposed to promote this movie when you can’t even be in the same room for five minutes without arguing?"

You sighed dramatically, turning back to the mirror as you fixed a stray hair. "Well, if she wasn’t so damn stubborn and stupid, I wouldn’t have a problem with her."

Mel groaned, rubbing her temples as if you were single-handedly giving her a migraine. "You know what? That’s it. I was talking to Vander, and he agreed—the two of you need figure this thing out, go out together or something."

That caught your attention. You turned to her, brows furrowing. "Go out together? Like what? A forced bonding exercise?"

"Yes, exactly," she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Then she pointed a perfectly manicured finger at you. "And don’t look at me like that. I wanted to lock you two in a room for the entire weekend, but Vander thought “hanging out” was a better option."

Your lips parted slightly in disbelief. "That was your suggestion?"

Mel shrugged. "It would've worked."

You groaned, dragging a hand down your face. "What exactly are we supposed to do together?"

Mel smirked. "That’s for you and Vi to figure out."

Mel had given you Vi’s number—which you didn’t have after working with her for more than a month—and told you to text her. She even threatened to call your mom if you didn’t, which, honestly, was a low blow.

Naturally, you did not text Vi.

By the time you got home, showered, and settled into bed with a book you’d been dying to read, you were so ready to ignore the outside world for the next three hours. But, of course, your phone pinged with a notification from an unknown number.

(Unknown Number)

hey

(it’s vi by the way)

vander said i have to text you and we have to go out together ?

You sighed, rolling onto your back before lazily typing out a response.

You:

yeah, mel said the exact same thing to me. not that i’m too excited about it.

Violet Lane:

i know you hate me and stuff, but if we could just get this over with it would be better lol

You frowned.

You:

?

i don’t hate you?

Violet Lane:

you don’t like me either

anyway, we can just go to a restaurant or something, talk this over and “bond” (or whatever)

You stared at your screen for a moment, chewing on your lip. Did Vi really think you hated her? Sure, you bickered—a lot—but that was just how you two were. You pushed, she pushed back. It was an endless back and forth, but hate? That was a strong word.

You hesitated before typing.

You:

fine. tomorrow at 7?

Violet Lane:

cool. see you then.

You sighed, tossing your phone onto your nightstand and staring at the ceiling.

Yeah. This was either going to be a complete disaster or the longest two hours of your life.

──────────────────────

At 6:35 p.m., you were already ready—probably too ready. You had checked and rechecked your outfit, adjusted your hair at least five times, and debated whether your makeup was too casual or too much.

Your stomach was tight with nerves, anxiety creeping up for no reason at all. It was just dinner. Just a casual outing with a coworker who thought you hated her (and who, admittedly, got on your nerves more often than not). You were only doing this because Mel and Vander had threatened you into it.

Still, you found yourself sitting on the couch, staring at the time on your phone like it would magically change.

Should I text her?

Would that be weird?

Would it be even weirder if I just showed up at the restaurant early?

Before you could second-guess yourself, you opened your messages.

You:

i know i said 7, but i finished the things i had to do earlier, so i’m ready. do you wanna meet there or go together?

(Lie. You had absolutely nothing to do today—but Vi didn’t need to know that.)

A response came quickly.

Violet Lane:

i can pick you up, if you want. i’m ready as well.

You blinked. That was… unexpectedly nice of her.

You:

k

[your address]

As soon as you sent it, you tossed your phone onto the couch and exhaled, running a hand through your hair.

Okay. No big deal. You were just getting dinner.

Then why the hell did it feel like you were about to go on a date?

──────────────────────

Vi picked you up, and the drive to the restaurant was… painfully awkward. You slid into the passenger seat, muttered a quiet hey, and she responded with a nod and a simple hey back. And then… nothing.

No music. No conversation. Just the sound of the road beneath the tires and the occasional glance exchanged between you two.

At the restaurant, things weren’t much better. You placed your orders, handed the menus back to the waitress, and then sat there—staring at each other like you were both waiting for the other person to break the silence.

You cleared your throat, shifting slightly in your seat. This is ridiculous.

“Soo…” you started, grasping for anything remotely close to small talk. “Anything good happening these days?”

Vi shrugged, leaning back against her chair. “Nah. Just working, you know.”

Riveting.

“Right. Of course.” You nodded “Me too.”

Another pause.

You took a sip of your drink. Vi did the same.

This was painful.

You were supposed to be bonding, fixing the weird tension between you, but so far, it felt like the two of you were just tolerating each other's presence.

Vi exhaled through her nose, drumming her fingers against the table. “Okay, this is weird, right?”

You let out a breathy laugh. “Oh, so weird.”

Vi cracked a small grin, shaking her head. “Alright, let’s just—be normal. For once.”

You raised an eyebrow. “For once?”

“You did spend the first two weeks acting like I personally offended your ancestors.”

Your mouth dropped open. “I did not!”

Vi shot you a knowing look.

“…Okay, maybe I wasn’t the most welcoming.” You rolled your eyes. “But you were annoying as hell.”

Vi smirked. “Still am.”

“Unfortunately.”

And from then on, you actually talked.

Your food arrived, and for the first time since you started working together, the conversation flowed easily. You talked about why you got into acting, your dream roles, the best and worst people you’d worked with, the projects you would never do, and the actors you’d always wanted to work with.

“Well, I always wanted to work with you.” Vi’s voice was softer now, a little hesitant, as she cut into her steak.

You blinked, caught off guard. “Really?”

“Yeah.” She shrugged, avoiding your eyes as if embarrassed to admit it. “One of the reasons I took this role was because your name was already on it.”

That was… surprising. Vi, who you were sure couldn’t stand you, had actually wanted to work with you?

“I always admired your work,” she added, still not quite meeting your gaze. “Your performances always felt so real—like you weren’t just acting, you were that person. I thought, ‘damn, if I ever get the chance to work with her, I have to take it.’”

For a moment, you just stared at her, unsure how to respond. This was the same Vi who had laughed for ten minutes over a tuna sandwich before your first kiss rehearsal. The same Vi who had argued with you over every minor detail on set. The same Vi who, up until an hour ago, you were convinced didn’t even like you.

And yet, here she was, admitting that she’d taken this role, in part, because of you.

You swallowed, setting your fork down. “I—wow. I didn’t know that.”

Vi finally glanced up, offering a small, almost sheepish smile. “Well… now you do.”

And maybe—just maybe—you could actually make this work.

──────────────────────

After that dinner, work became bearable.

Frank no longer looked like he was on the verge of a mental breakdown every time you and Vi were in the same room. You still bickered, but now it was more playful than anything—teasing quips, exaggerated eye rolls, and smirks exchanged between takes.

And, to your absolute horror, you actually laughed at one of her jokes.

“I can’t believe my eyes!” Vi exclaimed dramatically, pointing at you like you were a rare species on display. “She’s actually laughing at my joke! Somebody get a camera, this is a historic moment!”

“Shut up!” you said between chuckles, trying (and failing) to regain your composure.

After that, things just… shifted.

Vi started bringing you coffee in the mornings—because apparently, she noticed that your usual sour mood could be fixed with a large caramel macchiato. She never said anything about it, just handed you the cup with a smirk like it was no big deal.

And maybe it wasn’t a big deal.

Maybe it also wasn’t a big deal that you’d started looking forward to seeing her face every morning. Or that you caught yourself glancing at her between takes, watching the way she effortlessly charmed the crew with her stupid jokes and easygoing attitude.

It was not a big deal.

Until one of your last scenes together.

Vi’s character was leaving. It was an emotional scene—there were tears, there was rain, there was heartbreak. The two of you stood on a dimly lit train platform, the cold air thick with tension, with unsaid words.

And then you ran to her, your shoes splashing against the wet pavement as you grabbed her arm, desperation spilling from your lips.

“You can’t leave me in this town,” you pleaded, breathless, water dripping from your soaked hair. “It’s not fair. They can’t make you do this!”

Vi turned to you, her face half-lit by the flickering station lights, raindrops clinging to her lashes. “It’s not their choice,” she said, voice unsteady, tears mixing with the artificial rain. “I want to leave.” Her throat bobbed as she swallowed hard. “I can’t keep living this lie. I can’t be myself here.”

Your breath hitched. You shook your head, your hands trembling as they clutched the fabric of her soaked jacket. “Please,” you sobbed, the cold making you shake, but not nearly as much as the emotions clawing their way out of you. “I—I love you.”

The words came out like a confession, like a wound torn open.

And for a moment—just a moment—you weren’t sure if the silence between you was scripted or not.

Vi’s eyes locked onto yours, her breath shallow, her lips parted slightly. You could hear the rain hitting the pavement, the distant sound of a train horn echoing through the empty station.

Then, she kissed you.

You had kissed before. Countless times, in countless takes. But this? This was different.

Her hands found your waist, pulling you in, grounding you in the middle of the storm. One of them trailed up, fingertips ghosting along your skin before settling at the back of your neck, holding you like you were something fragile.

You melted into her, fingers curling into the damp fabric of her shirt, letting yourself sink into the warmth of her despite the freezing rain.

And then, just as suddenly, she pulled away—her breath ragged, forehead resting against yours.

“I love you too,” she said, softer than she should have. “But not enough to stay.”

And just like that, she was gone.

She turned, stepping onto the train, leaving you standing on that rain-soaked platform, crumbling from the inside out.

When Frank called cut, the entire set fell into stunned silence.

No one moved. No one spoke. The only sound was the steady patter of artificial rain against the pavement, mixing with the remnants of your ragged breathing.

Then, as if snapping out of a trance, crew members rushed forward, wrapping warm towels around your trembling frame, fussing over you, making sure you weren’t too cold.

But none of it registered.

Because your eyes were still on her.

Vi stood a few feet away, drenched, her chest still rising and falling from the weight of the scene. Strands of wet hair clung to her forehead, rain trailing down the curve of her jaw, but she didn’t move to wipe it away. She just looked at you.

It was a silent conversation, one you weren’t sure you understood.

And then, just like that, someone called her name, and the moment was gone.

──────────────────────

After wrapping up filming and sending the movie into post-production, you and Vi barely kept in contact.

It wasn’t intentional—at least, that’s what you told yourself.

Life simply got busy. You had new projects to consider, meetings to attend, scripts to read. You were thrown back into the chaotic whirlwind of the industry, and Vi… well, Vi had her own life.

But that didn’t stop the weird feeling in your chest. The absence of her was something you noticed, in ways you didn’t expect.

Her face wasn’t the first thing you saw when you walked on set every morning, You no longer groggily accept the caramel macchiato she always brought you with that smug little smirk. You didn’t hear her humming on set, or listen to her dumb jokes between takes.

The worst part? You caught yourself missing it.

You missed the way she’d argue with you over the most insignificant things, how her eyes would light up whenever she got you to crack a smile, how easy it had become to just be around her.

And maybe that was why, after a month of telling yourself you were too busy to reach out, you found yourself sitting in Mel’s office, trying—and failing—to make it sound like you weren’t fishing for an excuse.

“Have you heard from Frank?” you asked, leaning casually against her desk, as if this were just a passing thought.

Mel didn’t even look up from the magazine she was reading—the one that featured an interview you had given a few weeks ago. “About?”

“Post-production for Complex,” you said, picking at the edge of a business card on her desk. “We must be starting promotions soon, right?”

That finally made her glance up, one perfectly arched brow raising as she studied you. The sharp gold liner on her eyelids made her green eyes look even more piercing.

“You know you don’t need an excuse to talk to her, right?”

Your hand froze mid-pick.

You let out a nervous laugh. “What do you mean by that? I’m asking about the movie.”

“Uh-huh.” Mel’s lips curled into a knowing smirk as she lazily flipped another page. “Everything’s on track. Frank said you should hear about it soon. The movie trailer should be out in a week or two.”

You nodded, trying to keep your expression neutral. That was good. That meant press tours, interviews, red carpets—things that would inevitably bring you and Vi back into each other’s orbit.

You should have been focusing on that.

But all you could think about was your phone, sitting in your pocket. And the fact that nothing was stopping you from pulling it out, scrolling to her name, and just—

You swallowed, pushing the thought away.

You weren’t sure if you were ready for that yet.

──────────────────────

After the movie trailer was released, you filmed a couple of interviews, and suddenly, it felt like you were whole again.

Vi’s presence was there—her lazy smirk, the sarcasm wrapped in dry humor, the way she’d nudge you under the table just to see if she could get a reaction.

It was like nothing had changed.

Like you hadn’t spent weeks pretending you weren’t waiting for a message from her. Like you hadn’t caught yourself missing her laugh in the middle of a quiet afternoon. Like there wasn’t something undeniably different lingering between you, hidden beneath the playful banter and easy rhythm you fell back into so effortlessly.

But it was different.

Because now, every stolen glance lasted a second too long. Every brush of her fingers against yours felt intentional. And every time she looked at you—really looked at you—you swore you could still feel the ghost of that last kiss, the way her hands had held you like she was afraid to let go.

And you didn’t know if you were imagining it, if you were just hoping for something more than what it really was, if you were being downright delusional.

But if it meant she would be around you for longer, you would be the most delusional person in the world.

“Earth to Y/N.” Vi’s voice cut through your thoughts, and you blinked rapidly, turning to face her. She was looking at you with a knowing smirk, her elbow propped on the armrest between you. “You good over there? Looked like you were having a moment or something.”

You scoffed, leaning back in your chair. “Just thinking about how much I regret agreeing to this interview with you.”

Vi gasped, placing a hand over her heart in mock offense. “And here I was, so excited to see you again.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah, yeah. Keep telling yourself that.”

The interviewer, who had been watching your interaction with amusement, cleared her throat. “It’s clear you two have amazing chemistry, both on-screen and off. Was it always like this during filming?”

Vi grinned, glancing at you. “Oh, absolutely not. Y/N hated me at first.”

You groaned. “I did not hate you!”

“She totally did.” Vi turned back to the interviewer, ignoring your protests. “She was all serious and broody, barely talked to me for the first couple of weeks. But then I broke her.” She smirked, tilting her head toward you. “Didn’t I?”

You gave her a flat look, but you couldn’t stop the warmth spreading through your chest. “You wish.”

The interviewer laughed. “Well, whatever the process was, it clearly worked, because your performances in Complex are incredible.”

Vi nodded. “What can I say? We’re just that good.”

And maybe she was right. Maybe this—whatever this was—was just the natural result of spending so much time together. Of playing two people desperately in love.

But then Vi glanced at you again, her expression softer this time, her arm brushing against yours on the armrest.

And suddenly, you weren’t so sure.

The next interviews were all like that—her lingering touches, the way her fingers would find the small of your back when she guided you through a crowd, the way she’d stare at you like you were the only person in the room.

It was weird. Even for Vi.

Sure, you were both actors, but she couldn’t be acting all of it. Not when her hand rested on your waist a second longer than necessary. Not when she looked at you like she was memorizing your face.

And yet, you kept telling yourself you were imagining things.

Until one particular interview made it impossible to ignore.

“So, we heard rumors about your interactions on set,” the interviewer, a short blonde girl with an overly cheerful tone, began, her eyes locked onto Vi. “How you bickered all the time and made the director go nuts. What do you have to say about that, Vi?”

She acted like you didn’t even exist.

Almost all the questions were directed at Vi, and even when you did answer something, she barely spared you a glance, her attention fixed entirely on Vi, nodding eagerly at every word she said.

You tried not to let it bother you, but with every passing minute, you felt yourself shrinking in your chair.

By the time you left the studio, you were fuming.

Vi, however, was thoroughly entertained.

She gave you a ride home, and the moment you got into the car, you turned to her with an exaggerated voice.

“What do you have to say about that, Vi?” you mocked the interviewer’s tone. “Oh, I think you’re so hot, and I’m going to ignore Y/N while I talk to you!”

Vi chuckled, shaking her head as she started the engine. “Damn, that’s pretty good. You should do impressions more often.”

You crossed your arms, glaring at her.

“What?” She smirked, sparing you a glance. “Are you jealous?”

Your cheeks burned instantly.

“Of course I am! She ignored me the whole time!”

Vi snorted, her grip tightening around the steering wheel. “Yeah, because she was too busy flirting with me.”

You huffed, looking out the window. “Could’ve at least redirected a question or two…”

Vi was quiet for a moment before she said, voice laced with amusement, “Didn’t know you cared so much about my attention, princess.”

You turned to glare at her again, but she was grinning, eyes still on the road.

“Shut up.”

Vi only laughed, shaking her head.

And when her hand dropped from the gear shift, resting just close enough to your thigh, you didn’t move away.

The rest of the ride passed in comfortable silence. The night air was crisp, the windows rolled down just enough for the wind to kiss your face, ruffling your hair as the city lights blurred past.

For a moment, it almost felt like old times—like the months apart hadn’t left a hollow space in your chest, like you hadn’t spent too many nights staring at your phone, hesitating over an unsent message.

And then, just before Vi pulled up in front of your place, she spoke.

“Why didn’t you text me?” Her voice was casual, like she was asking about the weather, like it didn’t really matter. She kept her eyes on the road, fingers tapping lightly against the steering wheel. “Or call?”

Your breath hitched, caught off guard by the question—by the way it hung between you, heavier than it should be.

You turned to look at her, studying her profile, the soft glow of the streetlights casting shadows across her face.

“Why didn’t you?”

Vi finally glanced at you, just for a second, but there was something in her expression—something unreadable, something that made your chest tighten.

She let out a soft scoff, shaking her head as she pulled the car into park.

“Touché” she muttered.

Neither of you moved. Neither of you spoke.

The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was charged—like a question waiting to be answered, like a decision waiting to be made.

Then you opened the door.

Pausing for just a second, you glanced back at her. Vi was watching you now, her fingers still drumming against the steering wheel, jaw tense like she had something to say but wasn’t sure if she should.

You offered a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“See you on the premiere.”

And with that, you stepped out, closing the door behind you.

──────────────────────

On the day of the premiere, a driver picked you and Mel up. She spent the entire drive coaching you—how to answer questions, how to walk, how to carry yourself—but none of it stuck. Her voice was just background noise, drowned out by the only thought looping in your mind.

Vi.

How would she act? Would she pretend like nothing was going on? Would she ignore you? Would the two of you just be professional—smiling for the cameras, standing side by side like coworkers instead of... whatever it was you had become?

The knot in your stomach tightened with every mile closer to the venue. Your palms were damp, your heart hammering against your ribs.

“Are you even listening to me?” Mel’s voice finally broke through your daze.

You blinked, turning to her. “Huh?”

She sighed, exasperated but amused. “That’s what I thought.” Then, with a knowing smirk, she added, “She’s probably thinking about you just as much as you’re thinking about her.”

You scoffed, looking away. It was like Mel had a sixth sense.

She just chuckled, shaking her head. “Hopeless.”

The car slowed to a stop, and suddenly, it was time.

Blinding flashes erupted from every direction, a chorus of voices calling your name. You moved with practiced ease—smiling, posing, keeping your posture pristine as you stepped onto the red carpet.

But your mind was elsewhere.

Your eyes scanned the crowd, searching. Looking for her.

If Vi had arrived, you couldn’t see her. And that realization made the knot in your stomach twist just a little tighter.

You spotted Frank mid-interview and took the opportunity to approach him.

“Hii!” You waved, making your presence known.

“Oh, there she is! One of our stars of the night!” Frank beamed, his entire demeanor much warmer than the no-nonsense director you were used to seeing on set. “She’s one of the reasons we’re standing here tonight!”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Don’t flatter yourself, Frankie. Without you, this project never would’ve happened.”

The interviewer smiled at your exchange, clearly entertained. “The chemistry in Complex felt so real—especially between you and Vi. What was it like working so closely together?”

At the mention of her name, you hesitated for just a second—just long enough for Frankie to notice.

“Ah,” he teased, nudging you lightly, “now that’s a question.”

You cleared your throat, forcing yourself to focus. “Vi is... incredible. She’s the kind of actress that makes you better just by being in the scene with you.”

The interviewer nodded eagerly. “And off-camera?”

Your lips parted, but before you could say anything—

“Why don’t you ask me that?”

Your breath caught.

Because there she was.

Vi strolled up beside you, effortlessly charming, effortlessly her—a lazy smirk playing at her lips, the sharp cut of her suit fitting her entirely too well.

And just like that, the entire world shrank down to her.

She stopped beside you, her hand instinctively finding your waist—like it belonged there. A gentle squeeze, warm and grounding, as she turned to answer the question.

“I’m wonderful to work with. Ask anyone, they’ll tell you.” She smirked, her tone playful, but you barely registered her words.

Because damn.

She looked stunning.

The open-back suit she wore left little to the imagination, her toned muscles on full display beneath the flashing lights. It wasn’t fair—nothing about her was fair.

Your focus shattered, your train of thought completely derailed.

The interviewer laughed, oblivious to the way your eyes shamelessly roamed over Vi. “And what about her?” she asked, motioning to you. “What was she like to work with?”

Vi tilted her head slightly, considering. Then, as if she hadn’t just ruined your ability to form a coherent sentence, she murmured

“She makes it easy.”

Your breath hitched.

She wasn’t looking at the interviewer. She was looking at you.

And you felt it—like a spark catching fire, like something you couldn’t ignore anymore.

After countless photos, interviews, and polite smiles, the entire cast finally made their way inside the theater for the screening. But Vi was still glued to you—her hand finding your waist, her fingers brushing against yours, her presence a constant, undeniable force.

So you did the only thing that made sense.

You grabbed her wrist and dragged her toward the nearest bathroom.

“Whoa, where’s the fire?” Vi chuckled, but followed you without hesitation.

You pushed open the door, stepped inside, and locked it behind you.

Then you turned to her, frustration boiling over. “Okay,” you started, jabbing a finger into her chest, “I need you to be sohonest with me right now.”

Vi raised an amused brow but said nothing, letting you continue.

“Are you being serious or is this just for the movie?” You demanded, your heart racing. “Because I swear to God, Vi, you’re giving me serious mixed signals, and I don’t know if I’m being down-right delusional or—”

And she had the audacity to smirk at you.

That damn smirk. The one that made your stomach flip. The one made impossibly more infuriating by the bold red of her lipstick.

Vi took a step closer, slow and deliberate, her voice dropping into something almost dangerous.

“What if I am being serious?”

Your pulse skyrocketed. The air between you felt thick, charged with something that had been simmering for too long.

“Then we need to do something about it,” you said, inhaling sharply—your lungs burned like you had been holding your breath for weeks. “Because I’m tired of you joking around and then holding me like you want me, looking at me like that…”

Vi tilted her head slightly, her smirk softening into something real. Something that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Like what?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper.

You swallowed, your throat suddenly dry. “Like you feel something,” you admitted, forcing yourself to meet her gaze. “Like you want this as much as I do.”

She exhaled, long and slow, her fingers twitching at her sides—like she was holding herself back.

Then, so quietly it almost got lost in the space between you, she said, “I do.”

You barely had time to process it before her hands were on you, pulling you in, closing the distance in a way that left no room for uncertainty.

Her lips crashed into yours, and this time, there was nothing to hide behind. No cameras, no script, no excuses. Just her. Just you. And the way she kissed you like she had been waiting for this moment just as desperately as you had.

Your hands went straight to the opening of her suit, fingertips dragging down the exposed skin of her back, desperate, needing to hold her—to make sure she was real and not just another scene you’d have to pretend didn’t mean anything.

Your back hit the door you had locked only moments ago, the cool surface a stark contrast to the heat pooling between you. Vi’s hands were everywhere—on your neck, slipping under the fabric of your dress, gripping the back of your thigh as she lifted it around her waist. The only sound in the bathroom was your breathless kisses, the rustling of clothes, the quiet hum of a moment neither of you wanted to end.

Until your phone started ringing.

You groaned against her lips, fumbling for the device in your purse without pulling away completely. Vi kissed down your neck, her lips never leaving your skin as you glanced down at the screen.

Mel’s name flashed on the display.

“Fuck,” you exhaled.

Vi huffed out a breath, her thumb brushing over your hip, her smirk returning. “You gonna get that?”

You hesitated. No, you really didn’t want to.

But Mel was persistent, and if you didn’t pick up, she’d probably barge into the bathroom herself.

With a groan, you answered, trying—and failing—to steady your breathing. “Mel—”

“Where the hell are you?” she hissed. “The movie is about to start! I swear to God, if you and Vi are off somewhere being unprofessional—”

You locked eyes with Vi, her smirk only growing.

“We’re coming” you said quickly, voice slightly breathless.

“You better.” And with that, Mel hung up.

Vi chuckled, pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Guess we should go be professional, huh?”

You sighed, reluctantly letting her step back, already missing the warmth of her. But as you looked at her—lipstick smudged, pupils blown, her suit out of place from where your hands had been—you knew there was no more pretending.

Something had changed.

And this time, neither of you wanted to run from it.

──────────────────────

You fixed yourself as best as you could, smoothing out your dress, running your fingers through your hair, and dabbing at your lips to make sure they weren’t too swollen. But Vi—Vi was a mess. Her lipstick was completely gone, her eyeliner smudged just slightly at the edges, and the faint red marks on her back, stark against her skin, were impossible to ignore.

“Why did you wear this stupid suit?” you muttered under your breath, practically dragging her toward the theater.

Vi chuckled, completely unbothered. “You liked it, didn’t you?”

You shot her a glare, but the heat rising to your cheeks betrayed you.

By the time you slipped inside, the room was dim, the screen displaying the production company logos as the final guests settled in their seats. You spotted Mel near the middle row and made a beeline for her, thanking God that Vander was still across the room, too deep in conversation with Frank to pay you or Vi any mind.

Mel barely spared you a glance as you slid into the seat beside her, Vi dropping into the one next to you. Then, without missing a beat, she leaned in and whisper-yelled, “Where were you? Actually—” she held up a hand before you could answer, “don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.”

You pressed your lips together, fighting back a smirk.

“Just sit down,” she sighed, adjusting in her seat. “You’re lucky Frank decided to give a speech before it started.”

Vi leaned in, just enough that only you could hear. “See? We are professionals.”

You rolled your eyes, but when her hand held yours on the armrest, when she shot you that look, like this was your little secret, you knew—tonight wasn’t just about the movie.

It was about you and her.

──────────────────────

masterlist

[halflifebutawesome]

BEHOLD! FOR THE SECOND TIME, THE GBVRAI LINEUP! now with another weird old dude!

waves my hands around vaguely I wanted to make a nicer looking lineup and more coherent post actually explaining the au. I've now made 2 gbvrai lineups but never a plain old hlvrai lineup. Whatever.

There's a complete AU explanation and individual character profiles (?) under the cut! check it out! ASK ME ABOUT IT !!! SMILES!!!!!

The basic gist of this au is that the science team, are a group of ghost hunting paranormal researchers. The Ghostbusters. You mightve heard of them. This isn't a 1 for 1 au where certain characters take the role of others, it's more just. What if the science team existed in the Ghostbusters universe. They're just the Ghostbusters now.

On a particularly odd case, they bust a ghost that seems... off. It's sentient, it's talking back, and it's psychokinetic energy is off the charts.

Thinking nothing of it, they return to the firehouse and prep the trap for containment disposal. Gordon's the new guy, so he's the unlucky dude who's been assigned the job of disposing of the traps. All the while the ghost will NOT shut up. It's weirdly powerful and seems mostly unbothered. It's name is Benry, and he's a little freak.

the ghost containment unit has been unstable for a while, overfilled with ghosts, but they have to dispose of Benry somehow, so they go ahead with it.

In this AU I'm kind of combining the Resonance Cascade with the Manhattan Crossrip (the Manhattan crossrip is the big scary ghost event that happens at the end of GB1). Basically what happens is that Benrys weirdly powerful ghostly energy, combined with an unstable ghost containment unit, tears a big rip in the fabric between the ghost realm and ours, letting all sorts of ghouls and specters free.

Imagine the Resonance Cascade, with all the aliens getting out and ravaging Black Mesa, but it's a bunch of ghosts getting out and ravaging New York. Gordon and the rest of the team have to fight their way through the ghost filled streets of NYC, and close the crossrip.

Heres some closeups and more individual info/thoughts for the gang!!

GORDON FREEMAN! The new guy. Again, this is less a direct 1 for 1 swap au kind of deal, and more just putting these guys in situations. Gordon's HEV suit, tho, I wanna talk about.

In Ghostbusters canon, they DO have a weird fucked up hazard suit. It first appears in the TRGB episode "Xmas Marks The Spot", where Egon uses it to travel into the ghost realm. I know it makes another appearance in the comics, in a way that's more HEV-esque, but I never finished the comics so idk. It's real tho.

I imagine here that the ghost containment unit is more like the reactor in half life, where it's hazardous to be around for too long, probably bcos of like. I don't know. Concentrated psychokinetic energy. Sure. In any case he needs to wear the HEV to use the containment unit.

My design here is taking the chest piece, helmet, gloves and belts and modifying them to look a little more HEV-esque.

Bennyyyy. Benrey benry beny. He's a ghost, as far as they can tell. It would be more appropriate to call him an entity of sorts.

He's not a ghost simply for the fact that he wasn't ever human. He wasn't ever a living person that died. He's some pure, really powerful, concentrate entity/being that leaked through from the ghost realm. He looks like. A guy, for the most part, but he's a mimic. Something pretending to be human. He's been around for a while, and has settled into this form. He's mostly corporeal, but can phase in and out as he pleases (noclipping) Switching from corporeal/incorporeal when it's funny.

He met Tommy when they were both a lot younger, Benry being fresh out of the ghost realm, and have been bestfriends ever since. ☝️ my au my weirdly specific tommybenny dynamic. Dw about it

TOMMY & SUNKIST!!!! Tommy has grown up around ghosts his whole life, and is pretty in-tune with them. This is proven with his bond to Sunkist, who's decidedly not a real dog, and his longtime friendship with Benry.

I gave him the goggles cos. Tommy's my fave and Ray's my fave and I think they're fun. Also cos if it WAS a 1 to 1 swap I would def have Tommy as Ray. Anyway. He's been a part of the Ghostbusters since he was little, like I said he grew up with them and around them. He's really knowledgeable about ghost types and physics. He knows all the ghost rules.

Sunkist isn't like. His dead childhood dog cos that seems. Kind of sad. Instead she's kind of a church Grimm or hell hound. An entity taking the form of a big huge dog that Tommy befriended when he was a kid, and has now kind of bonded to him. She's pretty corporeal as far as ghosts go, and can interact w the physical environment pretty well.

DARNOLD ^^ my friend darnold. Darnolds not usually super involved in the actual ghostbusting, and prefers to stay behind. He's more of the research and tech kind of guy, he studies the readings and takes measurements.

He's interested in psychokinetic energy and ghost residue and all sorts of like. Ghost sciences. Why some people stay behind, why some people just seem to die and disappear, the properties of the ghost realm and the ghosts themselves. Corporeality and degradation of personhood the longer someone's been a ghost.

When the Resonance Crossrip happens, he opts to stay behind and observe the effects of the insane amounts of ghost energy on the corporeal world.

Hes also a transfer over from the ghost engineers! That's a fun thing for me. I love the ghost engineers idc frozen empire gave me everything I wanted

FORZEN. Forzen is... the same thing as Benry. A mimic, something taking the form of a normal ghost to blend in or hide in plain sight.

He came through with the Resonance Crossrip, but obviously like. He knew Benry before (we WERE bestfriends..). He's not as powerful, which is why he wasn't able to sneak through when Benry did. He's also not super corporeal. He can only interact with the physical world if he's exerting a LOT of energy. Prone to flickering in and out of vision.

Upon coming thru the Crossrip, he kind of just. Decided to hang around the firehouse. Didn't wanna go much further, for fear of being ghostbusted and sent back into the containment unit. The source is the last place they'd look for him!

Darnold, who's holed up in the firehouse, is more than delighted to meet a ghost who's sentient and willing to cooperate to do some tests and experimentation to get never before documented results. They bond and they're cutesit. ☝️ DARZEN WIN. hi splash 👋

Dr Coomer and Dr Bubby are two of the three original founders of the Ghostbusters! They've been around for a looooong time. They're also married obviously but that's like a given.

They helped found the Ghostbusters, having met in college while both were studying parapsychology. I imagine their like. Parapsychology -> Ghostbusters pipeline was very in line with how GB1 starts, where they used to work in an academic environment before getting kicked out and founding the GB.

They're also both. Psychic. Because frozen empire has once again given me everything. Coomers got some like. Idk something that lines up with his self awareness in HLVRAI, maybe prophecy? Vauge visions of the future? Bubby has pyrokinesis. Duh.

and... Mr. Coolatta..... Tommy's dad...he was one of the founders along w Coomer and Bubby and at some point he. Died. And is now a reeeally really powerful ghost. maybe from the exposure to ghost energy or smth?

Now hes got gman powers and just kinda hangs around. Pretty corporeal and solid and. Present. For lack of a better word. But he IS a dead guy. Used to be human.

This is why Tommy kind of grew up around ghosts and knows alot about them :) Mr Coolatta is pretty benevolent, and mostly just kind of spooky and fucked up.

And that's. About it? I believe?? PLEAAASE ASK ME QUESTIONS ABOUT THIS I have so many thoughts. I've been working on this for like 2 months now. Lol.

[loz-furbies]

Zelda ages based on when their games came out. Welcome to the team EoW Zelda!

Characters and design thoughts under cut:

For starters, I did a similar Zelda piece a few years ago and ran into the problem that I can't really draw anything else than anime teen girls, which is kind of a problem in a drawing where half the characters are above 20 and their age differences are the whole point. And in addition almost everyone is supposed to be royalty with very similar clothes too. But in my defense, in general it can be pretty hard to tell the ages of 25 to 40 year old anime women anyway.

I needed a reference for the body proportions in order to even get started, so I quickly thought "who is an anime woman who doesn't look like a teenager", and used Yor's character sheet for assistance. The younger characters' proportions are a little inconsistent, since I couldn't choose if I would look at realistic growth chart or go with the anime look (where teens and children are often shorter than they would be in real life) so the result is this weird hybrid.

Four Swords (December 2, 2022) & Four Swords Adventures (March 18, 2004) - Chronologically they are different Zeldas even though they use the same promo art/character design, so I used the promo art design for the original FS Zelda and drew the FSA Zelda based on her sprite. There's not much to these designs, they have very little going on in terms of story or personality to use as inspiration and their character design doesn't offer much anything original when compared to the other more well known Zeldas either. Their only distinct element is the big red hair bow, but I thought it would look too childish when they're supposed to be in their twenties here.

Minish Cap (November 4, 2004) - There's not a lot MC Zelda that I could use for inspiration. But then I remembered that a while ago I wrote about how the pointy hat Queen Ambi wears should be used more often, so I thought I should put my money where my mouth is and draw it here, since Zelda does wear a red cap for a couple seconds in MC. In general the MC Zelda and both FS Zeldas are at a little awkward age for this picture, since they're too old for youthful child designs but not really old enough for more mature queenly designs either.

Skyward Sword (November 18, 2011) - Her design is based on her concept design, which I assume is meant to be her casual look and not the ceremonial costume she wears in the game.

Ocarina of Time (November 21, 1998) - I decided that age-wise she makes the cut of when I start using updos. Why do the Zeldas have such similar canon hairstyles anyway, it was surprisingly boring to work with them. Still not sure about the curls though, my fancy dress design artbook that I used for inspiration had so many cute curly hairstyles but I couldn't really use any here because I worried the characters would become unrecognisable. But since OoT Zelda had some curls in her "sideburns" she fell victim here.

Hyrule Warriors (August 14, 2014) - HW Zelda has a distinct enough design from the other Zeldas that it gives a lot of elements to work with, though her age here limits it a little since she's too young for bikini armour. Also because HW is a spin off, I also considered including the Cadence of Hyrule Zelda, but that led to the realisation that it would have opened the doors to CDI Zelda as well. Which I guess would have been fine, but this is already a pretty wide drawing full of adults, so while a Cadence of Hyrule Zelda would have been easy to fit on the front row, I couldn't justify adding even more adults just for the CDI games. So only HW is included because I've played it and actually like it.

Zelda 1 (February 21, 1986) - The original Zelda is at an age where it's a little awkward how there's little difference between her (38 years old) and OoT Zelda (25). But I couldn't think of any anime that would help me as reference here, and I don't think she's old enough to have that "this character is getting old" wrinkle under her eye (you know the one).

Echoes of Wisdom (September 26, 2024) - I think she looks a bit too old here to be a zero-days-old newborn but work with me here.

Breath of the Wild (March 3, 2017) - She's actually at the age where her mum died, poor girl. She's very refreshing to work with since her look is so different from the other Zeldas.

A Link to the Past (November 21, 1991) & A Link between Worlds (November 22, 2013) - Originally I also had the Oracles Zelda in this since she does have a unique design, but then again I consider the Oracles Link to be the same as in aLttP which ought to apply to Zelda as well, plus the design isn't unique in any interesting way and is just a combination of the OoT & aLttP designs, so in the end I just gave the Oracles Zelda sprite's hair buns to aLbW Zelda. Overall having to use the essentially same design for both aLttP and aLbW Zelda wasn't much fun, especially when neither really offers anything notable in terms of story or personality, but at least they're pretty far apart when it comes to age.

Twilight Princess (November 19, 2006) - I haven't played her game so I don't know a lot about her (other than reading the manga which didn't give me anything to work with either) and she's also close to her canon age (?) here so she ended up looking pretty similar to her canon design.

Spirit Tracks (December 7, 2009) - This was a tough one because technically ST Zelda does have a lot of elements to her story and character that could work for a redesign, but not really for the purposes of this picture. Anything train related is more of Link's thing, and anything ghost related doesn't really fit either since she's not supposed to be a ghost at this age. And as for the Phantom, I got the impression that while she learned to appreciate it, she didn't exactly like using it, and that personality-wise she would prefer not to go on another similar adventure. So In the end I just replaced the regular armour parts many Zeldas have in their designs with the Phantom armour and used the ghost palette for the rest of her look, and I kind of like the result. Her personality looks a little out of character though but I couldn't resist the opportunity to draw this with Grandma Tetra.

Wind Waker (December 13, 2002) - I haven't played WW so I'm not sure how accurate this is, but drawing her with the pirate design definitely added some much needed variety to this picture. I really like her twirly hairstyle in canon, but I also really wanted to draw her with short hair, so it had to go. Maybe ST Zelda can style her hair in a twirl when she gets older to compensate?

The Adventure of Link (January 14, 1987) - Really don't know what happened here, not particularly happy with the end result. I prefer to draw the Zelda 2 Zelda with her sprite design because just reusing the OG Zelda design is boring, but I really should have kept it closer to that since now she's practically unrecognisable.

[ballowvalence]

finished jentry chau last night and i have a lot of thoughts. SPOILERS AHEAD.

the good (broad strokes because there's so much to like in general!):

production quality is off the charts: fantastic animation, beautiful fight scenes, lovely character and world design, music perfectly complements the whole vibe. great style as well!

satisfying narrative arc: no cliffhangers, we get an A to B story line with character growth and progress. jentry ends the series as emotionally more mature than she starts.

interesting characters and engaging exchange and dialogue between them that mostly felt believable and realistic for teens this day and age.

the bad (my gripe in a nutshell):

the showrunners' decided to favor making the show work to what they'd prefer over cohesive character choices. (like they were trying to manipulate jentry's character around hitting plot points, instead of vice versa.)

jentry's forgiveness isn't consistent for her character.

the showrunners decided that the narrative would be more dramatic when/if she didn't forgive others.

gugu lied to her all her life about SO many things. we're given her reasoning, which we're meant to understand and relate to (she didn't want jentry to hate her/her parents), and because jentry loves gugu, she forgives her. i do not forgive gugu! she lied to jentry for 16 years about EVERYTHING.

this ties into how moonie is still alive as well. gugu knew! she could've EASILY have tracked her down. so she CHOSE to never try and reunite them. and MOONIE knew she was jentry's mother. how could you do that to your daughter? and jentry forgives moonie because she loves the POTENTIAL of her mother. what the fuck! i do not forgive moonie! she CHOSE not to be part of her life.

then we come to the only other person who begged for forgiveness for their secrets hurting her.

kit. he lied about who he was and his intentions. however, out of the him, gugu, and moonie, kit is the only one who does not intentionally obscure jentry's ability to figure out his secret, as in jentry is not forced to act for him to confess his truth. with gugu's secrets, she had to work to uncover them, and with moonie, jentry had to work to find her.

he is the only one who comes clean to her after putting his life in danger to save hers, and there's no way he doesn't know how fragile his painted skin is. he KNOWINGLY went to save her from the fire and risked his identity being blown because she was that important to him. (i remind you his death words started with "everything i did was for me." LIKE SAVING HER THEN??? THAT WAS FOR YOU???)

and how does jentry react? poorly, yes, because she hates lies (because of gugu).

but even after that, kit is never actually forgiven. in fact, jentry uses him, and then abandons him when she achieves her goal. it felt so drastically out of whack for her character that i wondered what was happening. then he is ostracized by her, and she rejects even his friendship and acts cold to him. she cuts him off.

it really doesn't make sense for her to not even want to be his friend. she bonded with him during the doppelganger experience. they WERE friends then. then she says she wants to be normal and pursues michael even when he admits to her HE isn't normal. so that's not it either.

only the narrative is what forces her not to forgive him because the showrunners need to hit the plot points of him betraying her and him needing to sacrifice himself later. (which i would argue his sacrifice really doesn't make sense at all. if you watch that scene when kit dies in her place, WHY would he even pretend to be her? if jentry had just worn the robes instead, she would've been able to defend herself as quickly she donned them as is shown after kit-jentry is attacked. it was a needless sacrifice!)

gugu is forgiven in this same episode for her lies. why can jentry forgive gugu and not kit (prior to the betrayal)? it just doesn't fit for her character.

jentry then goes on to immediately forgive moonie for never getting into contact with her. moonie ALSO lied to her her entire life. but somehow this is forgiveable now because it works with the narrative and the plot points.

anyway. that's my biggest gripe with the show.

instead of building the narrative around jentry's character, the show built a narrative and manipulated jentry's character to make it work.

also...

the mogai-human-form design was weirdly sexist?

when possessing mr. cheng, the mogai-cheng form is ugly and malformed and disproportionate. he is not conventionally appealing or attractive. he is not the same size or shape as cheng appeared. he is wearing clothes.

when posessing jentry, the mogai-jentry form is curvaceous and slim and appealing to look at. this form is conventionally attractive. she is the same size and shape as jentry appeared. she is not wearing clothes.

all of these are choices the showrunners made. they could've made mogai-jentry much more unappealing, but they didn't. for some reason, keeping her "attractive/cool" was the choice over what the design could mean. they did make her look dangerous, i guess?

[queenpiranhadon]

Hello! You commented on my post about my dream request so here it goes...

Pro Hero! Dynamite is dating Underground Pro Hero! Y/N. He doesn't know she's a hero, doesn’t even know she has a quirk. She has a "job" where she can travel a lot; a model for Mitsuki & Masura (they know, because parent instincts). Anyway, YN gets sent on a lot of missions with Pro Hero! Deku since he's one of the few who likes working with everybody. Dynamite sees how close they are and is seething, and end ups turning it into a huge fight.

(i woke up at this point but pls make it comfort if you can)

thank you in advance!!🫶🏾🫶🏾

A/N: Idk if this is what you wanted but I loved this prompt so much!! Big thanks to @zanarkandskylines for beta reading and editing this I owe you so much 😭 Here's my masterlist!

Warning(s): f!reader, Katsuki and reader are dating. and they live together, reader is an underground pro hero with a pre-established quirk, mentions of blood, Katsuki thinks reader is cheating on him with Deku, angst to fluff, characters might be a little ooc, mentions of passing out, reader cries a lot, Katsuki does too, Katsuki almost kicks reader out, cursing, Katsuki calls reader princess.

Pairing: Pro Hero! Bakugou Katsuki x Underground Pro Hero! Reader

•─────•°•❀•°•──── ɢᴏᴏᴅɴɪɢʜᴛ ────•°•☁︎•°•────•

Shit. 

Pain flares up in your abdomen as you try not to think about the blood gushing out of your side, as the taste of iron lines your taste buds, making you want to vomit. 

You were on a mission with your close friend and pro hero, Deku, who you consider a friend till the end after endless mission assignments together. Your quirk, Rays, allowed you to control the lighting of any setting you were in- even if it were bright outside, you could plunge anything within a 100-mile radius into complete darkness if you chose to do. Along with that, you could illuminate anything within the same distance in the middle of the night. Your eyes would change colors while your quirk was active, growing lighter and darker with the lighting around you- a feature that allowed you to be hired as a model for Jiyū, a clothing company owned by renowned clothing designers, Mitsuki and Masaru Bakugou. They joked that that lighting always favored you during photoshoots, capturing your eyes in such an alluring way that it was almost like you were the one who made the clothing look exceptional. They’d often drop hints that you would, in fact, be a perfect fit for their hotheaded son. You’d laugh at their insistence, waving off their jokes. They never would guess the reason behind your choice of career path, especially as a secret pro hero. 

You were an underground Pro Hero by the name of Sola – specializing in espionage and stealth, a major asset to Pro Hero Deku as you balanced his brute force with elegance and mobility. You loved your job, not ever having to need to be prominent on the Hero charts and found your reward through the knowledge that you were helping others. It was silly, you thought, to sneak around with a secret identity like all the books you read, unlike the Pro Heroes you knew that basked in attention. And even though you didn’t need people fawning over you 24/7, you still had one issue with all the secrecy. 

That being your boyfriend, Katsuki Bakugou.  

You loved him with your entire heart, and more, as he did you. The both of you got together a few months after the explosive blonde had graduated from UA, your relationship blowing up the tabloids with a bang as he climbed the hero rankings. 

You trusted him with your life, and he trusted you with his heart, and yet you couldn’t tell him about your job as an underground pro hero.  

This was one of the reasons why.  

You hid behind a pillar in the abandoned warehouse you had caught a drug network alongside Pro Hero Deku. The both of you were tracking the pricks for months, coming home late every night with a new excuse to tell Katsuki. You knew it would burden him with worry, choosing to keep your secret hero identity just that - a secret, even from Katsuki. He couldn't worry about you when he had his own job as a Pro Hero to worry about.  

Not to mention he wasn’t exactly on the best terms with the greenette you worked with constantly. 

The fight ensued, you heard Deku’s grunts and the cracks of bones, no doubt his One for All in usage. You manipulated the light around him, effectively blinding your opponents while giving your partner the advantage of sight.  

You were losing blood at a rapid pace, head becoming fuzzy as your body slumps to the floor, giving into the exhaustion from overuse of your quirk. 

The last thing you heard before the world turned black was Deku’s triumphant call for you, reporting that all the villains were restrained.  

When you woke up, you were in Izuku’s apartment, head hazy and your temples throbbed like they were being stabbed repeatedly by blunt needles.  

You got up without a word, thanking Izuku for his hospitality before leaving to go home, brushing off his concerns and walking out his front door.  

Anxiety gnawed at you on the taxi ride home, subconsciously fiddling with your shirt to make sure your bandages weren’t visible, and praying to whatever deity was watching over you that Katsuki wouldn’t notice.  

You reached your apartment complex, taking a deep breath and settling for a somewhat content look, before inserting your keys into the lock and opening the door, basking in the familiar warmth of your shared home. 

Spotting Katsuki at the kitchen stove, you creep up to him and wrap your arms around his waist, to which he stiffens, but you don’t think much of it as you tighten your arms around him.  

“I’m home!” You sing, smushing your cheek against him but he says nothing.  

Worry works its way through your mind, wondering why he wasn’t responding, until his gruff voice snaps you back into focus. 

“Where were you.” he says, phrasing it like a statement, not a question.  

Your heart drops into the pit of your stomach- does he know? Did Izuku tell him?  

Wh-what?” A nervous laugh escapes you. Had you been caught? “I told you, I was in the US -” 

“Cut the bullshit.” he snaps, and you let go of him – you can physically feel your heart snap in two. “Where. were. you."

“I...” you trail off, the words caught in your throat, willing the tears that threatened to spill not to fall.  

You both stand there, wordless, staring at his eyes, full of pain.  

“You never even loved me, did you?” he says, voice cracking full of emotion, your eyes widening.  

“Katsuki no- I" You try to explain, but he cuts you off, the pounding in your head returning with the new rush of emotions.  

“Just stop. Please. Leave and never come back.” He spits out, tears finally dripping down his face. “Go fucking be happy with shitty Deku because obviously he’s a better fucking boyfriend than me.”

He thought you were cheating on him. Those late nights coming home, prolonged trips without explanation- god you were so stupid.  

You rush towards him, mind racing as you try to explain, try to fix things. You couldn’t lose him, you couldn’t- it would destroy you in ways unimaginable.  

And yet, he pushed you away forcefully, making you cry out in pain as he contacts your wound in your side.  

He almost stops breathing when he sees the blood, your blood, on his hands.  

You panic, and he grabs you by the shoulders, lifting your shirt up to reveal the bandage wrapped around your torso that the blood managed to seep through.  

“Kats-” 

“Who fucking hurt you.” he growls, low and feral- all resentment from the previous conversation melting away with the realization that you weren’t with Deku – or at least in the way he thought.  

“I’m an Underground Pro Hero.” You whisper, a desperate attempt to mask your feelings as you curl into yourself. You can’t risk looking up at Katsuki and seeing his reaction. 

“You what- fuck, you have a quirk?!” He looks at you, eyes wide.  

You nod hesitantly, his vermilion stare meeting your own, attempting to assess what else you could be hiding from him. 

“I wasn’t allowed to tell you- the Commision wouldn’t let me, I wanted to tell you so bad Katsuki, but I knew you had so much on your plate, and I didn’t want to bother you, and-” you break down, Katsuki cutting you off as he encircles you in his arms, consoling you silently, letting your distraught form melt into his embrace.  

Heaving sobs turned into choking cries, which dwindled into sniffles that lead to silence. You’d drifted off, cried yourself into a sleepy daze while he carefully cradled you in the kitchen. His own guilt ate away at him- he understood your situation, the Commission was as unsympathetic to a hero’s situation as the League was to anything. But it still hurt, that stupid Deku knew about your status as a Pro Hero before he did. He shook his head, dispersing his feelings. He hated himself for his words, for assuming the worst and thinking you were capable of doing something so low. Running his fingertips over your bandages gingerly, a pang of worry struck through him. He wiped the tears off his face, and then yours, lifting your sleeping form and headed for your bedroom. 

Right now, he needed to take care of you.  

Changing you out of your clothes, he settles you into one of your favorite worn out shirts of his, tucking you into bed before getting ready to sleep himself. 

He joins you in bed, heaving a shaky breath after everything, wrapping his arms around you, one hand placed on the back of your head and the other on the small of your back, holding you against his chest like you were made of porcelain - too scared to let you go, but scared of breaking you, too.  

“Goodnight, princess.”

[scourgeofmyownbrain]

This took way too fucking long- Everyone, gaze upon the Megatron/Galvatron height chart I made. If someone could get me a cold drink, I would love one, I have been working on this for the better part of a month. 26 separate designs, for one character, across 40 years of history. And I had to exclude a couple, the grand total is like 30 different ones. I left those four out because they were just pallet swaps of a design I already had; It felt redundant to include them.

This guy just can not decide if he's named Megatron or Galvatron sometimes, he just switches between the two names at random. I think in Unicron Trilogy, he switches to Galvatron multiple times, and yes, he does switch back to Megatron before every one.

My brain is kinda broken after finishing this. I worked on this one and the Optimus one at the same time (the optimus one is so much bigger holy shit-) and I've lost the ability to feel pain at this point.

Quick Disclaimer, if any of the images look weird, it's because I had to stitch a few separate images together to create a full body shot of the character.

Links to my Bumblebee Chart and my Optimus Chart. !!NEW!! -> Shockwave, Soundwave, Ratchet, and Ironhide. For future reference, all these charts will be filed under my "Transformers Height Charts" tag and my "aka the adventures of a..." tag. Hopefully, my bumblebee post is acting up and idk if the same issue will happen here.

Master Post

Explanations below the cut, I have to justify myself for a few of these.

G1 Beast Wars V1 - ~9 Feet (PMeg. TFWiki, he's so small. Dinosaur Man is so small)

G1 Beast Wars V2 - ~10 Feet (PMeg. TFWiki, This fucker has roller blades. I'm not fucking with you, they gave the T-Rex Roller Blades and he uses them)

G1 Beast Machines V1 - ~12 Feet (PMEG. The Wiki doesn't have any numbers for Beast machines, sadly, but I found an old forum post comparing the heights to the Beast Wars designs, so I win)

G1 Beast Wars V3/Machines V2 - ~13 Feet (PMEG. The TFWiki says this bitch is like 11.5 meters tall, but no, I've done the math, he is not. If he was, Rattrap, a character who is consistently stated to be 1.8 meters tall across multiple sources in multiple languages is actually not that tall. So no, he's about 2 and a bit Rattraps tall, and that translates to about 13 feet. And I'm pretty sure he reverts into this at some point in Beast machines, though correct me if I'm wrong)

G1 Beast Machines V3 - ~16 Feet (PMeg. This design is identical to the Optimal Optimus design so I'm gonna be lazy and use that number. Not like I have many other options.)

Beast Wars 2 - ~16 Feet (Galv. Idk, the wiki had the number and his name is Galvatron, was I supposed to ignore this? Never gonna watch it, but here it is)

Earth Spark - ~16 Feet 2 Inches (Mega. There are no actual numbers for Earth Spark (yet), but I was able to find Bumblebee's height, which I then compared to Optimus's height, and now I can compare Optimus and Megatron.

Yay!- he's so short it's so fucking funny tiny short man universe)

One V1 - ~17 Feet (Mega. I am aware, of the supposed "Canon Heights" listed on the wiki. 32.462 feet, allegedly. But, have you considered A: These numbers are sourced from the Walmart Promotional AR Experience that came out before the movie. B: There are three decimal points, and that number does not convert into a whole number in meters (which is originally what I thought was weird about it). C: The director has said that this movie is both canon to the LA movies and its own separate canon. AND ALSO Meg is taller than Optimus the entire movie but his height is listed as shorter than him on the wiki. They are the same height by the end of the movie, I call BULLSHIT Walmart; these are not actual numbers I will ignore them POST HASTE! Sadly, Megatron has yet to appear in the KCV live-action movies as I make this, but we know Meg and OP are the same height by the end of TFOne, so knock a couple of feet off this one, and we get pre-cog height)

Netflix Cybertron Trilogy - ~18 Feet (PMeg. Slightly confusing, but there are two Megatrons in this universe, but they are two completely separate characters. This is Predacon Megatron, design-wise identical to his V1 Beast Wars counterpart, but he is much taller in this universe. So I did some admittedly deranged comparisons to other characters and I got this height. It's a similar ratio to Prime & Primal's height difference so I'm running with it)

Gen 1 V2 - ~ 18 Feet 6 inches (Galv. So the Wiki failed me on this one, but- and maybe this is backwards thinking, the WFCT Galvatron is this height, at least comparing him to WFCT Megatron, who I've decided is the same height as Gen 1 Megatron, who we actually have a number for- I am aware it's convoluted but it's all I got)

Netflix Cybertron Trilogy - ~18 Feet 6 inches (Galv. Okay so, Galvatron and Megatron are entirely separate beings in this universe, which is a large departure from Gen 1 where they're effectively the same guy, which means I could compare their heights, and this is about the height Galvatron is. And I have decided that the WFCT Megatron is the same height as Gen 1 Megatron because they're nearly identical otherwise, making the assumption that the Galvatrons are the same easy. The amount of hoops I have to jump through sometimes...)

Gen 1 V1 - ~19 Feet (Mega. TFWiki. Hey look, it's the guy that's the foundation of like 5 other character's calculations)

Prime Wars - ~19 Feet (Mega. As I've said before, I have decided that this design is the same height as the Gen 1 design, because they're identical, yes one is 2d, and the other is 3d but I don't care)

Netflix Cybertron Trilogy - ~19 Feet (Mega. You already know what I'm going to say; it's identical to Gen 1. Just try and stop me)

Unicron Trilogy V2&3/ENG&CYB - ~19 Feet (Mega/Galv. He flip-flops so much in this universe, I think Megatron becomes Galvatron 3 separate times. For the uneducated, the Unicron Trilogy has given each of its 3 seasons separate names and 3 separate art styles. These are the designs used in Energon (S2) and Cybertron (S3). The Wiki had Cybertron's numbers but not Energon's, so for my own sanity, I decided the two were the same height. I could have done something in between Cybertron's and Armada's (S1) numbers, but there was a lot of float between the two)

One V2 - 19 Feet 10 Inches (Mega. As I have stated in the previous One entry: I don't trust Walmart, Meg and OP are the same height by the end of the movie, and the KCV LA and One are kinda one universe. Optimus is this height by the end of the movie, therefore so is Megatron. How many times do I have to explain this)

Cyberverse - 21 Feet (Oh sweet, sweet "I don't have to justify or explain my numbers, I have a source". This comes from a screen-shot of this video which has the Cyberverse height chart everyone uses, though the quality of the screen shot is iffy. If anyone has a better one, I would love to see it)

RID 2001 - ~22 Feet (Mega/Galv. TFWiki. Why are there so many Megatrons who become Galvtron at random and look functionally identical to each other why does this keep happening. Also this guy transforms into a hand)

Unicron Trilogy V1 - ~23 Feet (Mega/Galv. TFWiki. I am very tired, we have another functionally identical Megatron Galvatron conversion and I am in pain)

Bayverse V2 - 30 Feet (Mega/Galv. TFWiki, Movies 4 & 5. This time, they're actually identical, and Mr. Bay has once again blessed me with numbers from all of his movies)

Aligned Cont. WF/FOC - ~30 Feet (Mega. TFWiki. Look man, I don't know how he grows nearly five feet between the games and the shows, it's just what the video game info screen said)

Animated - ~31 Feet (Mega. Animated has no actual numbers, but the lovely @phoenix-inanis has provided a frankly astounding resource with their own calculations for the heights of all the TFA characters. Go look at it, it's wonderful -> https://phoenix-inanis.notion.site/TFA-Height-Chart-f6ad2960ca8c4c5b859ee4958723aaa4?pvs=4)

Aligned Cont. TFP V1 - 34 Feet 5 Inches (Mega. Yes, this is from Fandom. But, and I will continue to say this until my lungs give out, this entire universe is just fucking enormous. Look, I believe Bayverse is the most consistent tf universe when it comes to the transformers' models and designs, and if we do some comparisons between characters with similar listed heights (I did it at the end of this post), it's way too close for me not to believe it)

Bayverse V1 - 35 Feet (Mega. TFWiki, Movies 1-3. Look at this bitch, getting his secrets exposed by Mr. Bay. Look at him, he's going to shrink down in the forth movie, gonna get dumped down to 6th place on the podium. Get Shrunk, Idiot)

Aligned Cont. TFP PR V2 - 42 Feet 7 Inches (Mega. Look at this enormous bitch, look at the freak standing there, fuckin enormous n' shit. Wack ass Unicron- Did you know that this is probably the TALLEST base form transformer ever? Excluding any super modes or upgrades or a transforming Cybertronian Base/Spaceship, just default general body size, I'm pretty sure this Megatron is the tallest Regular transformer ever)

Not Pictured: RID 2001 Galvatron Pallet - ~22 Feet (the only thing that was different between the two designs was the colours, if felt redundant to include it), Unicron Trilogy Galvatron Pallet(s) - Armada: ~23 Feet, Energon/Cybertron: ~19 Feet (Again, just the colours changed, otherwise everything else was the same)

I have done it. I have conquered my Everest. I have finished the big two charts. If anyone has any suggestions for which transformer I should aggressively analyze next please tell me I don't know which ones to do next

Here are the different layers separated out into their own pictures, I know it's kinda hard to tell everyone apart when they're all on top of each other.

[nostalgiclittlespace]

50 Things to put in your Agere Journal

An ‘About Me’ Page

A collage (I like using stickers and magazine clippings!)

A page full of your favorite stickers

List of reasons you like regressing

A list of all your stuffies

Possible names for new toys

Favorite affirmations

Character profiles for your stuffies (eg, their jobs, favorite things, etc)

Write a regression/kidcore themed poem

A letter to your Big, Little, or Future Self

Little Space Wishlist

Bedtime Routine

Sticker Chart for chores or work

Your favorite movies and TV shows

Big you VS Little you (chart, drawing, list, etc)

Glue in an envelope to keep important things in, such as stickers, notes, and small toys

Places you want to go

Note your favorite memories

Agere headcanons for a character

Draw yourself as an animal. Which would you be and why?

Draw a genie, fairy, or wizard—who have granted you 3 wishes! What are you wishing for?

A list of new foods you’d like to try

Write a review of your favorite picture book

Draw your dream paci

Write a story

Design matching outfits for you and your favorite stuffie

Make up a new game and its rules; note it all in your journal

Write a new, happy message to yourself every time you regress. You’ll eventually have a long list of positivity!

Glue pipe cleaners, buttons, yarn, and other craft supplies into a picture! (My favorite is making houses and people with them)

Top 10 Disney movies

Rules for Little Space

Lift the flaps using post-it notes (I tape the top/sticky end down so they don’t fall off)

Make a page for each color. How does this color make you feel, your favorite things of that color, stickers, etc

Uses beads, glitter glue, scented stickers, and more to make a sensory page

Make an OC. Are they from your favorite agere show? Are they an imaginary friend? What do they like to do?

Plan your ideal Little Space day

If you were a superhero, what would your costume and powers be?

Your regression triggers

Your favorite things to do at each age you regress to

Video games to play in Little Space

Make a word search (come back to it after a little while to make it trickier!)

Your favorite recipes

A page for each season—your favorite holidays, activities, the weather, stickers etc

A self-portrait

Trading cards (namely Pokémon or similar)

An invitation to your toy’s party

Little Space nicknames

A menu for playing restaurant

Signs you are regressed

Crafts you’d like to try

[avelera]

One thing that's amazing in the storytelling of Arcane S1 is that you can actually chart the hypergrowth and societal polarization caused by Shimmer and Hextech in Piltover and Zaun by how the number of average-looking people among the main cast diminishes.

A proper post on it would include a bunch of pictures and stuff but basically:

Ep 1.01-1.03 you have a few people who look like "main character" outliers, like Vi and Powder with their pastel hair, or Jayce and Viktor with their golden eyes that symbolizes their unique intelligence and shared vision, Mel with her gold accent makeup and stunning looks, Silco has his unusual eye but is otherwise a normal, fragile person, but overall they are rare extraordinary people who make up a small percentage of the population of people with brown hair, normal colored eyes, and fairly average builds.

This is a society more or less in-balance. Singed still looks like a fairly normal, Sevika has both arms and no Hexgem scars, Vi has no tattoos, Vander is just an unusually large but otherwise normal looking dude. He's a little larger than life as a societal figure and that is reflected in his design, because he's otherwise a normal person.

From 1.04-1.09, the narrative is dominated by people who, if you ever saw them on the street, would be the craziest looking person you ever saw in your life. You've got Finn, the tattoed undercity chem baron, and really all the chem barons are crazy looking, you've got Vi and Jinx with tattoos now, you've got Sevika with her robo-arm and glowing blue scars, Singed with half his face burnt or clawed off, Ekko with his facepaint. Suddenly, everyone looks painted or tattooed or extraordinary in some way, and normal people can't keep up anymore. They vanish into the slums of the undercity, if they're like Huck they try Shimmer to feel powerful only to be poisoned and destroyed by it, or like Viktor experimenting on himself.

The whole world is going insane and the only people who can survive are the most extraordinary, and that's not healthy for a society, you shouldn't have to perform at the top, most unusual, most extraordinary level just to survive.

Anyway, one reason I've gushed about S1 of Arcane for years and years is how they intimately tie in the script with the visuals with a wonderful understanding of societal hypergrowth and those it leaves behind and you can actually chart this very disturbing evolution in Piltover and Zaun by how few normal looking people you see as the situation there accelerates to a boil.

[maukiki1]

Bakuten Shoot Beyblade characters as adults!!!!

Notes about designs under cut

-obviously inspired by the mangas time-skip adult versions. Some of them i already liked like Manabu (hence why he’s barely different) and some i didn’t fuck with like Kai (where has his sauce gone…)

-related to the previous point, i imagined the amount of time between these versions and their regular versions in the show is the same as in the manga, i didnt go off of specific years more like just based it off the manga designs entirely

-at first i was like wow, giving the Russian character an ushanka, how original. But then i remembered Rei, the chinese character in the main group literally walks around with a ying yang on his forehead so like, its only in true beyblade character design spirit if i do this.

-i was gonna design Makoto and Goh too and make them look a little less like they’re just small Takao and Kai but i gave up so I’ll probably draw them in a normal piece somewhere else (Lin too)

-i was also thinking of writing of what they were doing now in the time skip beside the drawings but im not good at writing so I gave up. Though im guessing It wouldn’t be hard to guess how Kai lost his eye or where Yuriy’s leg injury came from lol. G revolution gives its toughest beybattles to its gayest soldiers

-their jobs or atleast the characters shown in the manga as adults are probably same, like Daichi being a blader dj was so genius to me when i first read it. Though he didn’t really look like his past self in the slightest lol or to me atleast

-im not thinking of doing any more characters maybe like 2-3 more but im good this took years off my life and it was harder than i thought it would be

-i left Yuriy for last in my drawing order because hes my favorite and i was excited to draw him the most and i promised myself to not make him more detailed compared to everyone else and i completely fumbled on that im sorry LMFAO i just love him so much FUCK

-These pictures don’t really show how tall i intended them to he so here is a Height chart

[exaflux]

BTAS pre-production stuff/official designs and artstyle stuff

Don't mind the title, I'm a bit naff at titling things...

I'm sure people have made posts about it before, but just in case there's anyone that doesn't know, there's official documents on BTAS floating around the net. Things covering episode writing, bios, a bunch of art that animators would have used. Whole lot of stuff.

I've seen people ask questions/have discussion on things like imitating the style/character heights/other general things. These documents are all official and might be helpful so, hey, might as well share for those not in the know.

Gonna keep it short (I'll provide some links so you can check out for yourself as there's a lot I won't cover) but I'll outline some stuff that catches my eye (first bit is about pre-production and ideas they had, second bit is stuff about how they went about drawing/designing the characters)

Pre-production

In animation, it's standard to have a thing called a writer's bible, also called an animation bible. They include everything from plot synopsis, character/concept art, character bios, episode ideas, basically the whole nine yards. These are used mainly in the early stages to pitch ideas and get projects greenlit, but are also kept around as a handy shortform thing to summarise the whole project as much as possible.

As it turns out, the BTAS writer's bible has been extensively documented! There's a PDF of it actually! And if you don't want a PDF, there's a website that covers all the contents too.

As per writer's bibles, it has a ton of their ideas and direction they wanted to take with the show, from episode structure to joke writing right down to how much settings should be able to change per-episode. There's a whole lot of art too! Here's a snippet about some of the changes they wanted to make with the Dark Knight himself:

And just for fun let's also leave some info about how they approached writing Bruce Wayne:

Anyway! On a more interesting topic- some of the rogues. The bios of most of the rogues are included, as are some art of earlier designs. Riddler looks like a sleezy car salesman and Joker is kinda just missing his lips and has stripy pants is seems.

Also of note: in some alternative timeline somewhere we could have had Calendar Man and Gentleman Ghost in BTAS...

As for character heights... The height chart is sectioned into "head" height for Batman's head. The uppermost line is Batman's height, so Batman is 8 Batman heads tall. While it can be hard to make out some of the character heights due to the poses, it'd be safe to guess that you do take poses into account on the height chart. Two-Face is shorter on the chart than Harvey is for example but you'll notice that Two-Face's art shows his head tilted down slightly, so Two-Face isn't actually shorter it's just his pose.

You'll notice these characters are uncoloured. The colour palettes featured are an interesting point that deserve their own post. I'll touch on them another time.

Style Guides / Character Sheets

Style guides tell animators how to correctly draw characters. Can also be applied for things like backgrounds and props and the likes though, whatever feels needed to be noted to keep consistency even if other people are drawing the characters.

Character sheets are character sheets. 'Nuff said. These just show off a character looks from different angles. Expression sheets showing how character emote, art on full-body posing and sheets on hand poses are things that also tend to be covered in animated productions.

Can be found here and here. A lot of overlap in the art shown between the two links but they're absolutely full of character sheets and turn-arounds. There's definitely a lot more design documents I've seen about in other places, but alas, I can't track them down for the life of me.

Here's some highlights:

(When Twoface blinks only his good eye closes completely. His injured eye only partially closes)

("John Crane")

Some early character art:

~~~

If you made it this far then congrats here's some Batmen for your troubles

[holopossums]

I dmand EVERY picture of CJ you had drew!! Pretty please

Considering I'm super disorganized about my art and don't post everything I draw (sometimes it stays just in my server or among friends, or I just don't show anyone because it's unfinished/I'm unsatisfied), I'll have to find a lot of stuff that I've forgotten about.

Actually, I can just show some stuff that I *haven't* posted! (Everything else I ever have should be here.) Some of this stuff is Krow before I added the white hair because I didn't have that idea until around April.

^ Appropriately titled "Krow Smug Bitch". Everyone has fun with the cowboy AUs so why can't I?

^ He got nervous about seeing Usagi/Yukito I suppose

^ This one is interesting. Originally it was supposed to be just Krow as a magical boy, but then it turned into a bit of a mythology AU. He's the son of Yatagarasu the Three-Legged Crow from Shinto myth. Wasn't quite sure about everything... this was probably the result of watching too much Kamichama Karin as a kid lol

^ For fans of Transformers - TFP Optimus Prime with good ol' canon CJ! I feel like they would get along. Something about that red-and-blue leader drew him in I guess.

^ This was actually my first pass at an older version design of Krow. This was a complete piece too, but I was unsatisfied within a week or two. You can still see that I kept some things, notably the piercings, beard, and the idea of tattoos, as well as the Leo-inspired shoulder pads. The tattoo designs changed and so did the armor color, but it was an interesting first try at the older design.

^ A second attempt and older Krow, I was getting closer. (Still love the fashion on this though.)

^ The point I realized that I can't draw this man thin and have to start drawing him beefier and more filled out more consistently because it would be a crime against god or something. Was still finalizing his tattoos at this point and playing around with the idea of white hair. Considered the idea of the Hamato crest tattoo near his heart before nixing it because it's too cheesy and the Hamato tattoo is something a lot of people do for older/future character designs.

^ Ninpo weapon design for Older Krow! Yes he has a cyan scythe (really more of a kusarigama since it has a chain and weight at the end). Yes it's cool as fuck. No you can't touch it.

He's basically a reaper and it plays into his whole aesthetic as a crow, which symbolizes an omen of death. Crows are also often seen with scythe and scarecrow imagery because they're related to harvests.

I don't know why I never posted this, it *looks* finished... I think there was something off about the anatomy and I intended to fix it and then forgot and ugh. But anyway! There you go.

^ A height chart for younger Krow and Yukito that I never quite finished. But it's interesting to see them to the actual scale that I imagine them to be - Krow is 5'6", and Yukito's height is reversed since he's 6'5". Since both are around 19 when they meet, they're at their full adult heights here. Long live your short king!

^ Older Krow with lightning gloves. Which doesn't make sense actually because his gloves are electrical insulators to keep himself from getting zapped from one of his attacks. But who cares about that! It's cool!

^ Scythe sketch. Just trying to get a feel for the vibe of how he wields one. His cape/cloak plus the scythe probably gives opportunity for some really cool directional flow to occur.

^ Something I doodled just the other day. Old Krow but more cartoony and goofy. Love this silly guy!

I'm sure there's many more that I've missed, probably lots of half-finished sketches and doodles, but this is a lot of what I've found.

[dat-town]

love for rent

Characters: tpop idol!Ten & fashion designer!female reader

Setting & genre: fake dating au, rich elite au, idol au

Summary: It was a fake relationship for a reason, so why does it hurt so much? Why does it hurt like it was real? 

Warnings: alcohol consumption, mild swearing, implied sexual content

Words: 11.1k

Author’s note: in this au Ten’s character has never trained in Korea and became a solo singer in Thailand instead. listen to Obsession, Lie With You and Enough For Me for the vibes. happy Ten comeback season!

It was supposed to be casual. It was supposed to be fake. It wasn’t supposed to hurt.

Tipsy from the pity wine you allowed yourself and chest hollow from heartache more real than it should have been, you wondered where it went wrong. Was it when you naively thought you could stay immune to his charms and come out unscratched? Was it when you let yourself be swept up in that dizzying world of his? Or was it when you inevitably fell into his bed? When did you lose control over the situation? When did the lines start to blur?

Maybe it started off wrong from the very beginning. From the very first time you locked eyes with the nation’s resident heartthrob Ten Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul sitting in your office like he owned the place.

“I didn’t know the CEO was so… young,” he said casually but there was something akin to amusement in his tone, something borderline flirty that you chose to ignore just as you made no comment on how his flower patterned dress shirt was one too many buttons undone away from being called decent.

“My age has nothing to do with my competence,” you pointed out firmly, keeping the eye contact, unwavering like you learned to do ever since you set out to do business as a woman in the highly competitive and male-driven fashion industry of Thailand. You were relatively young, yes, but you knew for a fact that you and the singer were almost the same age, so his comment was even more irrelevant. “You know why you’re here.”

It was a subtle reminder that he wasn’t in your office for a chat and had it not been for him the two of you wouldn’t have met at all. Honestly, when your marketing team suggested re-negotiating the terms of the contract on the basis of Ten’s recent dating scandals, you thought that the discussions would go through the entertainment company’s PR team or his manager but not the artist himself who had been the face of your brand in the last five months. You could have also let others handle the issue but when you were notified that ONER would send the singer himself to apologize, you decided to see it over yourself. Ten didn’t look very apologetic though.

“Because my company can’t handle a stalker fan’s lies,” he answered with mild annoyance coloring his voice and you arched an eyebrow at that.

“So you’re saying it’s not true.”

“Does it matter?” Ten tilted his head, black strands of hair falling into his feline-like eyes. “Other companies jumped to break off the contract without confirming anything with us.”

It was his first mistake, you thought, letting you know that he was in a slightly desperate situation if he had been losing brand deals over this already. Maybe that was the reason why his company sent him, as a token of good faith, so you wouldn’t do the same even though you were losing money because of him.

“I have been told I should too,” you admitted with a hum recalling meetings with lawyers talking about suing the entertainment company or the marketers already bringing up second choices to replace him.

To prove a point, you slid printed papers with charts about the negative dive of profit of the last campaign since his scandal broke out. To his credit, the singer did glance at it before his dark gaze settled on your face again, his eyes almost challenging as if asking what you wanted from him.

“Look, Ten, you fit my brand very well both visually and with your lifestyle,” you said because these were the main reasons he had been chosen back then. A sustainable fashion brand focusing on comfortable but chic clothing wasn’t an easy sell because of its higher price range, so you needed to market it smart and the singer ticked all the boxes. Hell, he had cats at home and sometimes volunteered at animal shelters. His first campaign with you promoting your vegan leather collection was an instant success. “I don’t want to end our partnership over personal matters because those should not concern the public but unfortunately, I can’t afford throwing out money if this goes on like this. The summer collection comes out in three months. I need your reputation to be restored by then and then we will act like nothing ever happened.”

It was the most generous offer you could offer. You colleagues thought you were being naive, that this decision could drive the company to a new low but you trusted your brand and worst case scenario you still had the female collection with an absolute pure sweetheart as its ambassador.

“What’s the catch?” Ten frowned like he doubted your sincerity and maybe he was right to do so, the entertainment industry wasn’t easy even based on what little you saw from it.

“No catch. Unless you don’t count my lawyers suing your company for all our losses if this doesn’t get better by that time,” you point at the downward curve on the chart. You were being honest but you were still giving him a chance which was more than most of the companies did in risky situations like this.

Your phone buzzed on your desk before the singer could have said anything and you would have switched it off if it was anybody else but when you saw your mother’s contract, you hesitated.

“Sorry, I have to take it,” you apologized during a brief eye contact before standing up from the desk and taking the call. Maybe this was your first mistake.

You didn’t want to be rude and send the idol away so hastily, nor did you want to leave him alone in your office, so you hoped you could end the call quickly in the corner of the room, refilling a glass with water. You should have known better though. It was your mother calling in the middle of a workday after all.

“Guess what? I arranged a date for you! His family owns the biggest hospital in Bangkok!” Your mother chattered way too enthusiastically right away without hellos or how are yous like always and way too loud in the silence of your office.

“Mom!” You hissed in disbelief, immediately lowering the volume of your phone and your voice as well. “Cancel the date. I’m busy.”

“You can’t use your business as an excuse forever, honey. You’re not getting younger. You should start thinking about settling down,” your mother chastised like all the time when you told her not to meddle in with your dating life. You were getting tired of it.

“Look, mom, can we at least not do this now? I’m with a client,” you quickly shot the topic down, keen to end this conversation. Suddenly even talking about company profit losses seemed like the better option.

“Okay, honey. But think about it! I will send you his number,” your mother made a mwah sound as a goodbye and hung up. You could do nothing but sigh and try to re-compose yourself before turning back to the idol in the room.

“Sorry about that,” you apologized as you walked back to the table with the glass of water in hand and you didn’t miss the way, the singer’s eyes followed each of your movements. He waited until you seated again and you eyes met, then a lazy smile spread on his lips and he spoke up.

“Actually, I might have a proposal to make. A business proposal if you like, that can clean my image and maybe even stop your mother’s nagging,” he claimed way too confidently to your liking, especially considering what he just said. You furrowed your eyebrows, not understanding how the two were related but you were too taken aback by his sudden eagerness to call him out on meddling with your family business.

“Y/N,” Ten brazenly called you by your name as if you were friends and he looked nothing short of determined when he continued. “Date me.”

Out of all the things he could have said, you would have never guessed that. You were so bewildered that for a moment you dropped your well rehearsed business persona and glared at him, not amused at his antics at all. Who the hell did he think he was?

“Are you out of your mind?” You questioned and you had half a mind to end his contract right there and then for being inappropriate. That was his answer to your generosity? Ridiculous.

“Well, fake date to be more precise,” the guy corrected himself with a casual wave of his hands as if it was nothing to him. Then he leaned forward with his elbows on your desk, ready to sell the idea. “Think about it. Your family is respectable, so if we say we have been going out for a while, the stalker’s words will count nothing against yours. We can even say that we didn’t want to reveal it because we didn’t want people to make assumptions about us working together. Which is also a perfect excuse to say how we met and got closer. It’s a good publicity stunt to get some positive attention on both your brand and me. You can tell people how supportive of a boyfriend I am and I can charm your mother so hard she doesn't know what hit her and she won’t bother you with blind dates for a while.”

You opened your mouth to protest, to tell him that he was wrong, that it was stupid, but no matter how crazy his idea was, it wasn’t something unheard of in the industry. Shipping culture was a soft power in your country and even if you weren’t an idol or model, you were a public figure not only because of your business but because of your rich parents’ endless socialite appearances.

“You came up with all this right now?” You asked suspiciously because it was a conveniently detailed proposal considering that your mother’s call wasn’t longer than two minutes.

“My company did suggest that I should fake a relationship with a friend for good publicity,” the guy didn’t even hesitate to admit with a shrug and you appreciated his honesty at least. If he was like that beyond the all too sweet smiles maybe he wouldn’t make that bad of a business partner.

“We are not friends,” you reminded him sharply even though you knew he didn’t mean it like that. He most definitely didn’t think about dating you either until he heard you desperately trying to get your mother to cancel an arranged date.

“We can be,” Ten said coyly with a stupid smirk sitting on his lips. “I don’t hear you say no.”

To be honest, if you were to fake date anybody, you hated to admit it but he was a plausible option. He was objectively handsome, no wonder the amount of fangirls followed all his moves, and you knew that he also came from a wealthy family if his private international school background was anything to go buy, so you were pretty sure your mother would have found him good enough to be your partner. And if you did manage to convince the public that he was a loyal boyfriend, even your brand could benefit from it. The worst thing that could happen would be him lying about dating that fan but even that would backfire on him and not you, so you don’t have that much to lose.

“We need a contract,” you simply told him after you made up your mind, pulling up an empty document on your laptop and the singer chuckled.

“Of course you would say that.”

“I don’t hear you say no,” you mimicked him mockingly, reminding him that he needed you more than you needed him because even if he could easily find himself a date, he was right when he pointed it out that your family was reputable. It was hard to match socialite power. “I want your company to send over any press release with my involvement for review.”

“Okay,” Ten agrees easily and adds his own term in exchange. “You will need to be my plus one for public appearances to sell this.”

You hum since you have already guessed that. With both of you having public personas, it was kind of inevitable. 

“That can be arranged if I don’t have other obligations. My family will expect you at dinners and at least some business parties as well.”

“I can do that,” the guy nodded and you swat his hand away when he tried to reach out to fix a strand of hair falling to your face while you typed. “I will have to touch you. You know that, right?”

“Yes, I know how couples act,” you deadpan as you look him in the eye. “Just keep it… appropriate. And don’t do it when we’re alone.”

Ten raised his hands in defence as he leaned back in his chair, letting you work in silence. You showed him the first draft of the contract, making sure to involve conditions about touching (no kissing!) and if he ever got caught in cheating rumours because he can’t keep it in his pants discreetly, you would not only end this fake relationship but also end his modelling contract with your brand. Obviously he had the right to do the same but you weren’t worried about your part. Ten made you add a clause about the consequences of getting caught lying about your relationship and it was fair because the one who would cause it would have to compensate the other. You printed two copies for each of you which you signed, then you deleted the original file from your computer. It was all very formal and business-like, even as you exchanged LINE contacts to be able to communicate easier.

“Ten… The same deadline applies. If this doesn’t work out until the summer collection is out, we drop the act,” you told him firmly but he just smiled like he knew for sure that it would work like charm.

“Sure, babe, try not to fall in love with me until then,” he had the audacity to wink at you before he left your office with your new contract tucked into his jeans’ pockets like it was spare change. Maybe you should have already known then. Ten rarely played by the rules and you were bound to lose.

When the press release (reviewed and approved) was posted online, Ten sent you the link but even if he didn’t, you would have soon found out thanks to the stir it caused among all your acquaintances. You had a separate work and personal phone for a reason but once the news broke out, both devices kept buzzing like crazy. Friends, ‘friends’ and people that you haven’t talked to in years and probably secretly wanted to see you fail suddenly contacted you to comment on your relationship status. Some congratulations, some eager questions. You ignored them all. You just let out a deep sigh, leaning back on your couch, and watched the Bangkok skyline over your wall-to-wall glass windows.

In the grand scheme of things it was such a small, insignificant thing yet the stir in the clear peaceful waters was obvious. It didn’t take long for the news to reach the person you have been waiting for and it was the first call you took, not only because you could never let yourself ignore your mother but because you were actually curious whether she took the bait, whether she believed that you could and would date a popstar behind her back.

“Honey, why didn’t you tell us you were dating all this time?” Your mother sounded thrilled and well, that was enough of an answer to your musings. It was almost laughable how easy it was.

“We tried to keep it lowkey. With his job you know how it is,” you replied in a carefully crafted, almost bashful voice. Good thing that having your formative years pass in front of the public eye had taught you to become a good enough actress.

However, you were aware that the publicity Ten received on a daily basis was different from the one you had been dealing with growing up, you knew that there was a risk with such a deal too no matter how well-established your family was or how good your reputation was. For some fans, you could never be good enough for their idol, for some, Ten could never become the kind of person who was allowed to date. So you knew better than to read over comment sections or pay too much mind to your personal social media accounts now. You were doing this for your company anyways and your PR team would handle whatever happened in that corner of the Internet. You would wait for the immense initial reaction to pass and then re-evaluate whether you had made the right decision with this deal or not.

“Well, it’s out now. I would like to meet him,” your mother insisted, an expected request, so you promised her that you would talk with Ten about his schedule and arrange something. That much wasn’t even a lie.

The idol was much more accommodating than you expected though but then again, he reminded you that he had much time on his hands now that lots of his works had been either put on hold or terminated due to the scandal that one toxic fan caused and he was ‘always up for some fun’ as he claimed. Relieved enough that he agreed so quickly, you didn’t want to try your luck and tell him that out of the two of you, it was only him who was looking forward to that family dinner as if it was something fun. You wrote it off as an obligation, something you couldn’t skip out on, something to get over with and not get used to in the upcoming three months.

Either way Ten had promised to be there and you decided to trust his word because he had been punctual when it came to business too whether that was thanks to his manager or not, you would probably figure out soon enough, so after work you headed over your parents’ house in the suburb, greeted by the familiar sight of lush greens and eager employees opening doors in front of you.

The dinner table was also conveniently set by the time you arrived, but your parents weren’t anywhere to be seen until the headmistress didn’t announce your arrival. Then, it was like clockwork: your mother making a comment on your appearance and your father asking about business, so predictable. You glanced to check the time on your watch as you were ushered to sit down by the table and while the idol didn’t have a reason to make you doubt him, it was a habit: always expect the worst, so you wouldn’t be disappointed. So when Ten showed up two minutes into your father’s monologue about investment, announced by the headmistress, you tried not to show your surprise or relief, after all if you really dated, you would have been sure he would come right on time.

“Sorry for being late. I didn’t want to come empty-handed,” Ten walked into the dining room with a charming smile, a bottle of wine and a bouquet of flowers. Your mother cooed right away, complimenting you for choosing a man who knew how to make a first impression but she was watching expectantly as Ten approached you. You tried not to give it much attention, tried to shake off the feeling of being under microscope lens and maybe that was how the singer took you aback with the ease he leaned into your space and left a fleeting peck on your temple. It was quick and barely there but it clearly made your mother satisfied.

“Hey, babe,” Ten smiled easily and effortlessly charming as if it wasn’t the first time he was doing this and you had to give it to him, he fit in the role of a sweet boyfriend very soundly.

You forced a smile as he pulled the chair next to you out and sat down, the first dish being served right away as your mother grabbed on the chance to ask about details: how you met, how long this had been going on and why you decided to reveal it now after successfully keeping it as a secret. Expected questions were followed by practiced answers. Measured from your part but coy from Ten’s side. It made you wonder whether he played that part too or he was just naturally like that. You refused to think too much into it as you went through the motions of the dinner with practiced ease. You didn't interact with the singer more than you had to but even if your parents noticed, they made no comment on it, you had always been keeping to yourself even in your relationships, so it wasn’t that surprising.

Dinner went by faster than you thought it would, your father patting Ten on the shoulder and your mother promising to send him the stupid eggplant cream recipe. It left a bitter taste in your mouth that your mother had never liked the last guy you had brought home but she was already so enamoured by your fake boyfriend. It was really unfair, how charming he was but you couldn’t quite complain, not when this was exactly what you wanted.

“Your mother really wanted you to bring a guy home, huh?” The singer asked once you were out of the air conditioned house, the setting Sun leaving hues of orange across his face.

“That obvious?” You let out a snort at his question.

For a minute, Ten didn’t say anything, just followed you to your car, being a gentleman and all, but when he spoke up next, his voice softened.

“Are you okay?” His voice was quiet, eyes surprisingly deep. He barely knew you but he clocked in on that something was off tonight, your usual confidence waning at your family table, so you gulped, feeling way too seen.

“Yeah, it’s just… family. They can be a bit too much,” you shrugged, forcing nonchalance into your gestures. “Thanks for today, now at least she will believe me when I say I don’t need those dates.”

The singer made a noncommittal noise as if it was no biggie was him and you leaned against your car door before you dared to ask him about his side.

“How is the public response? Have you regretted your plan yet?” You asked, with forced playfulness, because while you had the chance to ignore all the rumours and public opinion, you knew that his job required him to be more responsive to all that or at least his company surely.

Ten however just huffed out an amused laugh.

“It’s better than expected to be honest, though there are certainly some news outlets wondering whether it's just a publicity stunt,” he gestured between the two of you way too casually for somebody who could be caught in a lie by the public. “But my fans think I do need an independent woman like you.”

At least the fans who don’t send you death threats, you thought but didn’t voice it out because the idol clearly tried to lighten the mood, so you played along.

“And why is that?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He grinned, wide and carefree, then leaned way closer than necessary with a twinkle in his dark eyes. “Just in case your mother watches from the windows.”

His predicament made you chuckle but you couldn’t deny the possibility, so you nodded at him, letting his lips graze against your cheek before stepping back, walking to his own car. You pushed down the urge to check the windows for any onlookers before getting into yours.

Fake dating Ten came easier than expected. The novelty of the news wore off in about two weeks, covered up by some new celebrity scandal. The idol’s company started setting him back up for public appearances and the spring collection sales were also doing better than before, going strong after a little hitch. You still caught sight of comments about how you didn’t deserve the guy and you weren’t even that pretty but overall the response was supportive. So when ONER sent you an invite for an event where Ten would perform, you cleared your schedule to be able to attend. Initially you wanted to arrive separately to not rub the news into the public’s face even more and add to the mystery but the agency suggested being bold about it, so on the day of the music gala, you were picked up by Ten’s manager.

Ten wore a loose shirt from your brand that fit him like a dream. But then again, he looked good in anything. You remembered your employees’ cheers when he signed with your company because with his YSL contract and all, you couldn’t have been sure he would model for an up-and-coming Thai brand. Since then, you had seen him wear clothes of your own making numerous times but somehow it was different when he was right next to you, smiling as he patted the seat next to him as he let his eyes rake through your own dress choice.

“We’re matching,” he stated, not in surprise, just observant and amused, and you snorted. Of course, you did. His company had asked you to send over an outfit for him, so obviously you color and style-coordinated your own choice of dress and accessories to match his.

“Might as well shove the whole couple thing into their faces now,” you shrugged as you lifted the hem of your long skirt to avoid stepping on it once you were in the backseat and didn’t say anything when Ten casually leaned over to help your with the seatbelt before the car lurched forward.

“Power couple, I would say,” the singer grinned and you spared him another glance, already imagining the jealous fangirls’ comments. Not to be arrogant but you did think you would look good next to each other visually and that was all people saw anyways.

“You’re awfully confident,” you noted, which made the idol laugh.

“Comes with the job I guess. You either get insecure at every turn or learn to own it,” he shrugged and for the first time you really looked at him, trying to see under that public personality mask he wore so perfectly. You knew from experience as a CEO in a still male-driven industry that a good facade could still hide many uncertainties and you couldn’t help but wonder whether he struggled staying true to himself while posing for cameras almost 24/7. But you decided against pushing for more. In a few months you would end this deal one way or another, so there was no use of getting to know each other on a deeper level than what was necessary to sell your roles.

You turned towards the window, looking at the familiar Bangkok neighbourhoods as you passed by while listening to the music faintly coming from the radio. Ten didn’t bother striking up a conversation either, so the ride spent in relative silence until you arrived at the venue surrounded by reporters, TV station staff and fans behind cordons. The lights flashing through the darkened windows still made you frown.

“Ready?” Ten flashed you a billion baht worth smile and you forced yourself to return the gesture. The show was on.

When the security guard outside opened the door for you and helped you out, you thanked for his help while waiting for the singer to join you by your side. Ten offered you his arm which you took with more gratitude than anticipated. You were relieved that he wasn’t the type of person who would touch and guide you by the small of your back when you weren’t even that close even if you were supposed to be in a relationship in other people’s eyes.

You smiled for photographs on autopilot as you walked down the red carpet towards the music hall where you were accompanied towards the VIP area and Ten left to prepare for his performance. The booth where you were assigned had other celebrities from the entertainment industry, some you recognized from Ten’s agency, so you were sure it wasn’t a coincidence that you were seated like this.

However, seating apart didn’t stop the extravagantly styled Bambam from coming over to your table just before Ten’s performance.

“Excited?” He asked with casualness that shouldn’t have come from a stranger who just sat himself down on the empty chair next to you.

“Yeah,” you answered both because it was partly true and because it was what a girlfriend should have said. You had no idea how close he was with Ten but with the entire purpose of selling the act you doubted that the idol went around telling his friends that it was fake.

“I have seen the dry rehearsal in the morning, you should prepare your heart,” Bambam winked with his mouth pulled into a smirk and while you weren’t sure what he meant by it at first, in the next few minutes you could experience it first hand.

You never really paid attention to Ten’s stage presence even though you had seen him briefly perform a few times. In your eyes, you had always cared more about him being a model than anything else because that was the most important thing for your brand even though you knew that it was far from where his main expertise lay. So seeing him on stage, in his element, was eye-opening. The way he commended attention simply with his presence and how his voice was like a siren song echoing in your ears long after the music stopped was mesmerizing. You couldn’t take your eyes off him and it wasn’t even because of the extensive amount of skin shown when his black shirt slipped off his shoulder ‒ probably not accidentally ‒ but because of how effortlessly he captured the audience’s attention, including yours.

During the performance you even forgot about the many eyes on you, waiting for your reaction, but afterwards you were painfully aware of the people around you gawking at you and dissecting your expression to read something into it. You wondered what kind of internet articles would be posted that night but before you could have started worrying too much, Ten slipped into his seat next to you and nudged your shoulder.

“Did you like it?” He prompted with clear excitement written all over his face and a playful tilt in his voice. You frowned at him as if the question didn’t make sense.

“Fishing for compliments?” You raised an eyebrow at him provokingly but instead of deflecting, Ten leaned closer.

“From you? Always.”

For a moment you didn’t know how to react. He must have acted like this because of the audience around you, because everybody expected him to but you couldn’t help the hitch in your breath. You cleared your throat.

“You know you were good,” you said eventually and poked his forehead with your index finger to push him away. He just laughed off your antics, remaining close enough that your shoulders occasionally brushed when either of you shifted to the side but you couldn’t find it in yourself to pull away. It was actually kind of nice to have somebody with you at an event like this who would share little comments that made even the boring parts fun. Somebody who made you feel comfortable even with cameras in your face.

A week later Ten had a bouquet of flowers ‒ freesias and roses in soft pink and crimson colors wrapped with white ribbon ‒ delivered to your office. Your employees swooned at the gesture and you had to admit that it made something dormant flutter in your chest too. Your ex-boyfriend never thought of doing something like that and it was conflicting to know that somebody like Ten, just as busy with his entertainment work as one could be, had taken the time to send you this when whatever you had was not even real. It made you wonder just how much more giving he could be with a real partner.

It wasn’t just a bouquet of flowers out of the kindness of his heart, though, you knew it wasn’t. It was a careful setup, waiting for one of your co-workers to break and post about the events on social media, so it could go viral just how much of a lovely boyfriend he was. Yet, despite knowing that there must have been intentions like that behind it, it felt nice to receive something like that. Especially because on the note attached to the flowers, it was clearly his handwriting and his cheeky smiley faces drawn.

Saturday evening. Come over.

Underneath that, an address.

It could have been a text. You had mostly communicated via phone already, so there was no reason for him to put into the effort to be old-fashioned about it and send you a note with flowers if he wanted to invite you over. Speaking of which, you dialled his number without thinking too hard about it and skipped greetings when the line connected after a few long seconds.

“No. It wasn’t part of the contract,” you reminded him because this relationship was fake for a reason, so you saw no reason to visit him at his home. It was one thing that he had already been at your parents’ place but it was different, it would have been just the two of you if his manager didn’t tag along which you doubted. And it wasn’t that you were afraid something would happen, you knew better than that but you also didn’t deem it necessary. The clearer the boundaries remained between the two of you, the more distant you stayed while pretending the easier it would be to end this charade when the time came.

The singer let out a breathy laugh as if he had expected your reaction. He didn’t seem offended at all.

“My company wants us to go out in unofficial settings because apparently it’s suspicious that the press never caught us near either of our apartments,” he explained and you pursed your lips, deep in thought. You hated that it made sense. Ten must have sensed your hesitation though because his voice was even lighter when he carried on:  “Come on, I won’t bite. You can just tell me about the upcoming collection I would wear or something.”

“I’m not afraid,” you rolled your eyes at the implication because being alone with him at his place shouldn’t have made anything different.

“Good. Then see you on Saturday,” Ten hung up the phone cheerfully, leaving you annoyed over just how easy he had his way.

You had been called a lot of things in life but not a coward, so on Saturday you headed over to the address on the quality paper that came with the flowers against your better judgement. You weren’t sure what you expected from an artist who lived in the lavish neighbourhood of the city, high enough to have a view of the river but certainly not being circled by not one but two cats the moment Ten opened the door for you despite knowing that he had pets.

“Oh, hello there,” you crouched down, patting the head of the more brave animal that nuzzled against your palm almost immediately. You smiled fondly as they poked their little wet noses against your hand and ankles, purring quietly.

“They like you,” the singer noted from where he leaned against the wall in the hallway and you looked up at him.

“Uhum. Do your fake girlfriends need to be pet-approved?” You tilted your head, the playful question leaving your mouth before you could think too much into it and Ten just grinned. There was something carefree in the tilt of his mouth, something easy in his bright eyes.

“It doesn’t hurt if they are,” he shrugged and held out a hand for you. You didn’t need his help to pull you up but you didn’t want to be difficult and refuse something so insignificant, so you slid your fingers over his and let him give you momentum. He held onto you while you unclasped your heels and put on house slippers instead.

“They are Levi and Louis by the way. Leon is lazily lounging somewhere too. Or trying to go through my cabinets for food,” Ten said as his hand fell off yours and you immediately missed the warmth of it no matter how absurd it was.

You linked your fingers behind your back as you followed the host inside his home. It was messy in the way that there were a lot of things on top of each other or shoved closely side by side but it was cleaner than what you expected from a bachelor. Most furniture had a light color and the wall was decorated with contemporary art pieces which was a nice touch.

“Like it?” Ten suddenly appeared next to you as you were immersed in a digital painting with bold strokes and vibrant colors.

“I didn’t know you collect art,” you said quietly, realizing that you didn’t know a lot of things about him. You assumed a lot based on his confident and easygoing attitude but it wasn’t the same. You didn’t know that he spoiled his cats nor did you know that he was the type of person who would wear a casual, loose tee and shorts at home even with the AC quietly buzzing in the background.

“I don’t, not exactly,” the idol chuckled and tapped on the glass of the framed piece. “I made these.”

You turned to look at him with widened eyes just to see if he was joking but Ten looked serious enough.

“So you were just fishing for compliments again?” You tilted your head.

“Busted,” he laughed, the sound of it echoing in the air like a song itself. “Do you want something to drink? I have wine in the fridge, juice, tea and a coffee machine I barely use.”

“You don’t seem like a wine person,” you blurted out with furrowed brows because you couldn’t really imagine him sipping wine while sitting on his couch surrounded by cats like a wine aunt.

“Well, I’m not really. But your mother told me your favourite kind,” the singer shrugged like it was normal but out of all things you learned that day about him, this took the cake.

“You talk with my mother?”

“I’m selling the best future son-in-law act,” Ten said in that infuriatingly attractive confident voice of his. No wonder your mother was so charmed by him, lately she kept telling you to invite your boyfriend over again and how he would have to meet this or that family member. You knew that this was the whole point but you didn’t want to drag your entire family into this.

In the end you opted for some lemon water, played with his cats, asked him about his new mini album preparations and the fashion show he would attend in Milano. It was nice, way nicer than what you expected and hours went by faster too.

“You could stay over, you know,” Ten offered oh so casually when you told him that it was late and you should go home.

“In your dreams,” you snorted, which made him laugh. The sound of it echoed in your ears the entire ride home.

The next time Ten didn’t have to convince you too much to visit him. You brought snacks for his already spoiled cats and shared takeout on his balcony.

Soon, it somehow became a routine that between public appearances for whatever reason, you visited him one or two times a week even after the gossip magazines posted pictures of you leaving his apartment complex late at night.

Things between you became awfully domestic after a while. The way his touch was now natural on your hand, the way your knees touched as you sit on the floor of his living room, playing with his cats, the way you stood in the kitchen side by side, him washing the dishes and you drying, the way his teasing cheek kisses in public seemed to linger a little longer lately and suddenly you found yourself craving for more.

You shredded off some layers of each other’s public personalities too. You told him about your family and the challenges of being a young female CEO while he told you about the struggles of being in the competitive entertainment industry. One day you noticed a whitened scar on his knee and asked about it, more curious about him now than ever, thinking that it was just a childhood accident but the shine in Ten’s eyes told a different story.

“I had an injury once. I thought I would never be able to dance again. So I started focusing on singing more then,” he confessed and you realized that he hid more vulnerabilities beneath that confident facade than you would have expected, so from then on you didn’t try to deflect when he asked about your opinion. You told him when you liked the demo of his new song and you complimented his performance that took your breath.

Boundaries started to bend and fade when the little touches started to feel more deliberate and the flirty comments just a bit more serious but you didn’t stop him. Truthfully, you didn’t want him to stop.

It happened on a day when he picked you up from your company and drove you to a new Chinese restaurant he wanted to try on the waterfront. You had wind in your hair and a flutter in your heart as he drove you back to his place. On days like this, you had to remind yourself that it was all fake, that it was all for the show, for the marketing numbers and reputation points. But was it really?

You sat with your legs tucked under you on the fluffy carpet in Ten’s living room with your iPad on the coffee table, one of his cats sleeping an arm-length away when the singer slid a glass of wine on the table.

“New design?” He asked as he looked over your shoulder to take a look at your drawing.

“Yeah but I’m not sure how I want the collar to be,” you hummed, reaching for the drink. Now that you didn’t come with your car you would take a taxi home anyways.

Ten sat down beside you and leaned forward to zoom in on the details of your drawing. You didn’t snap at him because you were too busy trying to even out your suddenly stuttering breath as his chest pressed against your back.

“If you widened the sleeves a bit, I think this triangle one would look the best,” the idol pointed at one of your half-done sketches eventually, seemingly unaware of the momentary static noise he caused in your brain with his closeness.

“Hm, let’s see,” you muttered and adjusted the drawing to fit his description while also being awfully aware of his breath on your skin in your off-shoulder dress.

The digital pen trembled in your hold when Ten brushed your hair behind your shoulder, so his mouth could graze against your neckline as he leaned closer.

“We shouldn’t,” you whispered, not playing stupid and asking what he was doing. You both knew what it was and what it was building up to. Ten didn’t pretend to be innocent either.

“Why?”

You had no good answer to that. All logical reasons were erased from your mind when he touched you.

“The contract…” you tried weakly because there must have been a clause about something like this but you were already at the end of your resolve from the way Ten’s lips moved against your skin.

“Fuck the contract,” he said in a low voice which made the breath stuck in your throat.

You turned towards him and then couldn’t look away, not even if you tried. The dark pool of his eyes drew you in and you felt your cheeks warm under his intense stare. There was something syrupy slow about it, about the way Ten closed the distance between you, like he had all the time in the world, like he wanted to memorize the way your wine-stained lips felt against his. It was merely a press at first and your eyes fluttered closed before he slid a hand under your jaw, tilting his head just right.

Then the rest of the night was a blur: his satin shirt wrinkled in your hold, his elegant fingers pulling down the zipper of your dress, the softness of his sheets and the eagerness of his kisses.

You should have been more careful because if the way you got comfortable waking up in Ten’s bed wasn’t a flashing warning sign then nothing was.

The familiar sound of your alarm woke you up and you stumbled out of warm, bare arms to find your phone on the bedside table and turn it off.

“You wake up ungodly early,” Ten complained in a sleep-ridden, hoarse voice just like he did every single time when you stayed over in the last two weeks. He whined and pouted like a sulky cat but when the night came, he was the one who pulled you back into the bed.

“Go back to sleep then,” you told him, resisting the urge to kiss him goodbye just because his bed hair and sheet wrinkled face was cute.

After the first time – and the second when you didn’t want to assume that it would happen again –, you came prepared with a change of clothes, so you wouldn’t have to go back home to change before work, but you still slept in Ten’s oversized tees, so his smell lingered even as you stepped into the bathroom. There was a second toothbrush in the cup by the sink and a rose-scented shower gel next to the showerhead because Ten noticed you wore flowery perfume. It was almost too easy to slip into this routine and sometimes you found yourself waiting for the other shoe to drop.

By the time you changed and made yourself presentable, Ten was out of bed, pouring freshly made coffee into a mug and handing it over to you. He had Levi curling its tail around his ankle and a lazy smile on his face. Even with messy hair he looked devastatingly handsome.

“So what are your plans for the week?” He asked.

You took a sip of the coffee he learned to make perfectly to your taste and you told him about the new female model hiring process, the discussions with the material supplier and the dinner you had to attend because of your parents. The idol pouted when it turned out he couldn’t be there because he had to travel to Phuket for a photoshoot and his company also wanted him to shoot a vlog there, so he would be away almost the entire week. The news left a strange feeling in your stomach, more bitter than coffee, and it must have been something to do with being away for the first time since this thing started between you two. You gulped down another sip of your coffee, trying to sound nonchalant about it as you told Ten to have fun. He must have seen through you though.

“Come with me,” he prompted and you scoffed, thinking that he was joking, just being flirty. His usual nonsense self.

“To Phuket? Yeah, no, I can’t,” you shook your head, already listing off excuses: work, the Thursday dinner party, the suddenness of it…

“Why not? Just for the weekend,” Ten leaned closer, his lower lip jutting out in a pout, his eyes softening in a way that had you weak every time. “Please.”

And really, how could you have said no to that?

Even if it led to a weekend of chasing each other down on the golden beach, kissing the taste of coconut and rum cocktails off lips in the shade and waking up entangled in a hotel bed.

You should have known it was a bad idea but then again just because your fake relationship shifted into something else, you shouldn’t have had to hide it, so you showing up at Ten’s agency couldn’t have been such an unexpected thing. Sure, key personnel and managers knew that you weren’t actually dating and they had nothing to fear, and as far as others were concerned you had already gone public. So you weren’t sure why you were so nervous about it but maybe your gut feeling knew something that you didn’t.

When Ten had invited you over to watch him practice his new choreography, so then you could go back to his place together, he probably didn’t expect you to overhear something that was surely not meant for you to hear. The weight of his manager’s words muffled behind a half-closed door squeezed at your chest uncomfortably and you felt disoriented for a moment. You knew that this thing with Ten wasn’t supposed to last but the suddenness of the realization made you lose your breath. You tripped on air as you staggered backwards, back towards the exit instead of the practice room on the top floor.

Maybe it was because you had been hurt before but at the first sign of problems, your walls were building back higher than before. But you needed to stay calm because you couldn’t let Ten know how affected you were, how much he had you wrapped around his finger. You needed to keep up the professional mask until you had a reason to end this or until his agency decided that they didn’t need you anymore. At least now you knew what to expect.

I’m not feeling well. Rain check?

You texted Ten once you collected yourself as if nothing was wrong and tried to act like it too when the worried replies came. He sounded genuine and it made you wonder whether he knew what his agency was planning but then again the whole fake dating was ONER’s idea to begin with. You might not have liked them very much but at least they were straightforward with Ten when it came to parading his relationship status on billboards.

Knowing this made it harder to face Ten because you weren’t sure you could keep a straight face once he was close enough. You were afraid you would have broken into pieces the moment he touched you, so you started turning down invitations and flirty comments with excuses like you were busy or something came up. But Ten was smarter than he looked, tactful and he was insistent like wildflowers that survived in the harshest conditions and were impossible to get rid of. He kept checking in on you, reminding you to eat enough, sleep enough, or sending you pictures of his cats claiming that they missed you. A greedy part of you wished he told you it was him who missed you. Maybe then you would have folded immediately.

Ten showing up in your office really shouldn’t have come as a surprise. It’s been almost two weeks since you started dodging his inquiries, you only met for one official event and it was painfully awkward because you were way too distant even if you blamed it on tiredness and Ten didn’t push. But he must have had enough.

“You have been avoiding me,” he said the moment the door closed behind him and it was just the two of you. His tone was playful but his eyes were telling a completely different story. He looked serious, a bit unsure, as if he was wondering whether he did something to deserve this kind of treatment and the thing was he didn’t. It wasn’t even his fault. You didn’t blame him for any of it.

“I’ve been busy with the summer collection launch,” you used your well-rehearsed excuse and looked down at your laptop with your presentation open but not actually focusing on it. You just weren’t sure you could stand Ten’s intense stare at you for much longer without burning up. You feared that one look now that the two of you were alone would be enough for him to dissect what was going on in your brain and see right through you. You prayed he would buy this reasoning and leave but it was in vain; Ten was nothing if not persistent.

“It didn’t stop you before from seeing me,” he reminded you, which was unfair really because you were well aware of those nights when you stumbled across his threshold close to midnight or when you just watched a movie on his couch because both of you were tired. Really, it shouldn’t have been an excuse, you knew and he knew too. So you came up with one that was more likely, something a bit closer to the truth. 

“Is it that hard to believe that I’m stressed and not in the mood to sleep with you?” You sighed and forced yourself to look up, straight into the singer’s eyes and for a moment you thought he would make a suggestive comment on it detailing exactly how sex could help de-stress but he didn’t. Instead his shoulders dropped as if he was relieved.

It was ridiculous because shouldn’t it have been about sex for him? About the release he couldn’t get so easily? With his job, one night stands were risky, so having you must have been convenient for him and now you suddenly drew the lines between you again without proper explanation just because you caught feelings and couldn’t deal with it. It should have pissed him off, so why did he look so freaking understanding?

“You could have just said so then,” he said gently, his voice echoing in your head like a calming balm.

You had to close your eyes for a moment to collect yourself because it reminded you too much of the tone he used when he called you sweet things in bed. When you opened your eyes again, Ten’s dark, curious eyes were on you already. His lips parted but then he seemed to hesitate and you could feel your heart squeeze at the sight, half-anticipating, half-fearing what he might say.

“Do you think I only want you over for sex?” He ended up asking eventually and the way he said it almost sounded crude, almost as if it pained him.

“No. It’s also practical to sell the fake dating for the press,” you hummed, diplomatically, referring back to the original reason why you started going over to his place in the first place. It was his agency’s idea and really, wasn’t it ironic, that it was always the agency that called the shots?

“Really?” Ten scoffed in disbelief, with an unusual edge in his normally easygoing voice. It sounded like a challenge, as if he was waiting for you to take your words back but you didn’t.

“Yeah. What else would it be?”

The idol stared at you for a long second, then he strode closer to your desk and your heartbeat picked up its speed the closer he got. Your breath hitched when he put his hands down on the sleek wooden material and leaned closer to look down on you, his eyes almost drowning you.

“Do you really think I would be here if it was still fake to me?”

His words implied that it wasn’t fake, that he felt something more too, something real and that was it, that made you snap.

“You don’t get to tell me that!” You rose from your chair, facing him from the other side of your desk. Ten didn’t even flinch, he just watched you closely as if he was trying to figure you out.

“And why is that?”

“I heard your manager say that you would end this before your next album drops so you could sell the heartbreak concept better,” you blurted out, the words you had heard back at the entertainment company still ringing in your ears.

Anger boiled inside you but you weren’t sure why exactly. Was it because he kissed you like he meant it while he knew that it would end so soon? Or because he didn’t even give you a heads up which would have been nice even if you were just mere business partners? Or were you angry at yourself for being naive and falling for a popstar?

Ten didn’t deny it, he didn’t even look confused, so he did know. For some reason, it hurt more.

“What are you waiting for? Let’s get it over with,” you snapped at him, pettily wanting to hurt him back.

“Y/N…” When he spoke up, his voice was devastatingly soft. You could almost hear your walls cracking but you couldn’t let it happen.

“Oh right. I should be the one to do it, so you could be the heartbroken one,” you cut him off before he could have said anything to change your mind. You hid the trembling of your hands by pressing them flat on the table and looked him in the eye as you verbally ripped your contract in half. “It’s over, Ten. For real.”

Now, that you were nursing your wine, one from the same winery he had bought you from too, you still saw his expression clearly when you closed your eyes. He had looked like he was losing something. His jaw had tensed, he had opened his mouth to say something but then a knock on your office’s door had silenced him. A coworker of yours had come in to remind you about a meeting with a retailer, so you had grabbed your laptop and passed by Ten without any further words. He hadn’t tried to stop you and he hadn’t been there when you had been back. It was better this way but looking back, a part of you was disappointed instead of relieved.

You didn’t understand. You were the one to end it, leaving your pride mostly intact, so why did you feel so shitty?

Maybe the worst thing was that you knew things got messy even before you started sleeping with Ten. If it was only something that came with the physical part, you could have moved on easier. But you missed just spending time with him, playing with his cats, discussing designs or his drawings, seeing him smile.

You told yourself it wouldn’t have lasted long anyways, so you allowed yourself that one night to mourn the could have beens. You drank wine, scrolled over the pictures in your chat history and blocked Ten without replying to his texts. Then you buried yourself into work.

Days later, people were still busy talking about the leaked pictures of your Phuket vacation from weeks ago and there was no press release about the break up. You weren’t sure what Ten was waiting for but you didn’t want to think too much into it. Your mother, however, didn’t help your case.

“When are you going to bring your boyfriend over again?” She asked right away the next time you went home for dinner while your father was on a business trip and there was something akin to acid and guilt crawling up in your throat as you looked down at your plate.

“He’s busy, mom,” you deflected on reflex. You were getting really good at that. It probably wasn’t a positive thing.

“Is he? I talked with him yesterday,” your mother said casually as if she was talking about the saltiness of the dish and not about the fact that she was talking with your supposed boyfriend more regularly than you did. You gaped at her in surprise and then embarrassment when her eyes told her that somehow she knew. You weren’t sure how much Ten had told her and how much she had figured out on her own but she definitely knew that something was off. It was obvious from the way her voice softened. “Look, honey, it’s normal to have disagreements in a relationship, what matters is how you solve it. You have always been so independent because you had to grow up fast but with the right person, it’s okay to be vulnerable.”

You might not have ever been really close to your mother because of how much she liked to push you into things you weren’t comfortable with, be it elite parties or blind dates, but she was family and she might have known you better than what you gave her credit for.

“And how do I know if he’s the right person?”

“I guess it’s a gut feeling and a lot of hope,” your mother answered with an encouraging smile and patted your hand as if you were still a child. Maybe in her eyes you would always be.

On your way back to your flat, you were thinking about what she said and realized that even if Ten wasn’t the one, even if he didn’t feel the same about you, you needed closure, so you could really end this chapter of your life and actually move on. Otherwise the what ifs would come back to haunt you forever. What you didn’t expect though was that you would find Ten sitting right next to your front door, head leaned against the wall, eyes closed.

Your steps faltered on the vinyl floor of the corridor, wondering how long he had been waiting and how much longer would he have done so if you came back later. Your high heels clanked on the floor as you resumed the movement and Ten opened his eyes, elegantly pushing himself to stand. You weren’t about to scold him or call him out on daring to show up in front of your place but he stumbled to explain anyways:

“Look, I didn’t want to cross any boundaries by coming here but you cut off communication with me and it’s just unfair that you end things one-sidedly and didn’t even let me explain. I just want us to talk. Then if you still don’t want anything to do with me, I will leave you alone.”

You locked eyes with Ten as you stepped closer to the door and the realization that he looked awfully tired hit you hard like bricks. Maybe you weren’t the only one losing sleep over this.

“Come in,” you whispered as you pushed the door open and you could see it on his face that your easy agreement surprised him.

Even though you usually met at his place because you were more particular about your private space, it wasn’t the first time Ten was over. However, he moved around carefully, following you into the living room from a decent distance. It was a fragile little thing, like walking on eggshells around each other, a wild contrast to how you have been on each other just a few weeks ago. Ten had already made the effort of seeking you out, so when silence settled and he seemed hesitant to speak up, you decided to break the awkwardness.

“Look, I’m sorry I shut you out but honestly, I thought cutting off all contact would be the cleanest ending,” you told him, not detailing that it also gave you a sense of control that you could end it the way you wanted when in reality it wasn’t your choice.

You didn’t have to say it out loud, apparently Ten knew you too well.

“Did you want it to end?” He prompted, voice tentative and eyes focused on you. You had to look away to be able to answer.

“Does it matter? I knew it would end one day.”

“Of course, it matters,” Ten huffed, a bit of frustration bleeding into his tone and there it was again, the implications that you weren’t the only one feeling like it wasn’t fake anymore.

“Why didn’t you tell me about your agency’s plans?” You raised your chin high and straightforwardly posed the question about what irked you the most. Not that his agency was about to end your charade, but the fact that you had to get to know about it the way you had.

Ten let out a quiet sigh, worrying his lower lip under his teeth. His eyes shone with an openness you didn’t expect.

“I didn’t tell you because I’ve been talking with my manager about not doing the breakup. I…” he gulped, staring harder as if you could read his mind and he didn’t have to say it out loud. Maybe at the end of the day both of you were cowards, fearing embarrassment and rejection. “I didn’t want to do it.”

You pushed a bit further though. Not mean, just curious.

“And why is that?”

Ten laughed. A little amused chuckle as if he couldn’t believe you.

“You’re smarter than that, babe, come on,” he clicked his tongue and it made you crack a smile when you saw his mouth curl up as well.

“Maybe I just want to hear it from you,” you shrugged. Both of you had been vague enough so far. So many unsaid things, so many uncertainties.

Ten stepped closer, close enough to be enveloped in his scent but he didn’t touch you, not until he wasn’t sure you wouldn’t push him away.

“It’s been real. The realest thing in my life,” he whispered against your lips, sincere and real. When you closed the distance between you and kissed him, you suddenly remembered with blaring clarity his warning about trying not to fall in love with him. Now, you couldn’t even be annoyed that he was right.

You still had to deal with his agency and the media but for the first time since you had signed that contract in your office, you knew that you would face them together and that there was no deadline for what you had.

That night you posted a picture of Ten and his cats on your Instagram account with the caption my boys ♡ and the idol had the nerve to reply with good thing you are pet-approved, girlfriend ;)

[tikitania]

Did anyone see the Paris Opera Ballet’s Swan Lake on IMAX this weekend?

Nureyev’s libretto….lots to unpack. Rothbart is such a central character in this version pulling the narrative strings in overt and dark ways both inside the court and on the mystical lake. He’s not just evil wizard who has trapped Odette, he’s a dark force within the very halls of power who seems to have everyone hoodwinked — this fully registers with me after the recent US election.

It seems the capture of Odette and turning her into a swan was some sort of long game to destroy Siegfried, who stands in the way of power. But Rothbart also seems to have some masochistic, sexual feelings for the young prince, too. The homoeroticism was off the charts — I’ve never seen the crossbow gifted to the price so seductively! One interpretation could be that this version of Swan Lake is about doomed sexual longing because it’s Siegfried who dies in the end. Odette is forever trapped as a swan, and Rothbart’s dominance is complete.

In the sequel, Rothbart marries the Queen and rules with total power because she’s lost in grief after the death of her only son. Odile is his mistress. But the Prince’s Friends with the help of the swans come to the rescue and defeat Rothbart, returning the balance of power of good over evil. You’re welcome!

Park delightfully surprised me. I had never seen her dance before beyond short clips online. She exceeded my expectations, especially as Odile. Marque is really exquisite. He’s an expressive dancer with beautiful jumps and soft landings. But Pablo Lagasa, as Rothbart, stole the show with his technical prowess and smoldering deep-set eyes.

Seeing this in IMAX is incredible. Would love more of these, please! Love the bird’s eye views of the corps….I don’t care for a lot of Nureyev’s choreographic choices, but I did love seeing the corps formations, especially in Act 3. Normally, I like the set design and costumes at the POB, but the Easter egg hues for the court scenes didn’t work for me. The fuchsia gowns for the brides with those tiny fans were downright garish.