#i just saw the new poster and the director said they invited him back for s2 but sm turned it down i hope that company burns to the ground | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

just-some-random-blogger · 4 years

Text

Here’s My Problem: I Can’t Get You Out Of My Head

Seventeen + BTS Detective!Jeon Wonwoo x Actress!Reader Characters: Jeon Wonwoo, Jeon Jungkook, Kim Mingyu, Chwe Hansol (Vernon), Seungcheol (S.Coups), Chan (Dino), Yoon Jeonghan Summary: Wonwoo’s cold and calculating personality makes him a top detectivee. He’s currently in the middle of a murder investigation when he meets you, his favorite actress. His mind goes gooey when you’re near him though, and it messes things up for everyone. Can he deal with his dilemma? Word Count: 5k+ Warnings: Mystery, fluff, angst, detective au, actress au, TRIGGER WARNING graphic depictions of violence, stalking, killing, obessession, etc.

A/N: I’m going for that fall out boy/the 1975 kind of song title, ya feel me. And just like my Hoshi fic, I made Jungkook and Wonwoo siblings just because they have the same last name hekhek

And in case you start thinking otherwise, yall this is a work of fiction that does not represent reality at all.

Playlist:

Forget About It - All Time Low

Oh My! - Seventeen

Dream Girl – SHINee

I Love You 3000 – Stephanie Poetrie ft. Jackson Wang

Red Moon – KARD

Love U – Monsta X

Touch – NCT 127

Focus On Me – Jus2

Blue Flame – Astro

Psycho – Red Velvet

Let’s Not Fall In Love – BigBang

Slow Dancing In The Dark – Joji

Try Again – d.ear ft. Jung Jaehyun

Guess Not – eaJ

You Calling My Name – Got7

The Jeon brothers were popular in their neighborhood for being swoon worthily good looking. They were so popular in fact that girls from other schools in their proximity came around just to glimpse at them on the school bus.

The younger of the two, first name Jungkook, was an all around remarkable fellow. He was good at sports and academic, making him popular not only for his looks but as well as his athletic achievements.

The older Jeon on the other hand, Wonwoo, was far more reserved and mysterious. He excelled in his classes and was a top student in his class, but whatever loudness or extroversion his dongsaeng had, he did not possess.

It was somehow a match made in heaven for the brothers. They complimented each other and helped where they could.’

It was unsurprising the two began extremely different careers after graduating, Wonwoo having studied criminology, and Jungkook, filmography. Never did the two brothers think they would get an opportunity to work with each other having left the academic scene, until Jungkook finally got the greenlight to start production on his childhood dream project: a murder mystery film.

To be honest, it was an old, black and white mystery film that shaped the brothers into choosing their careers. Having been so fascinated with solving puzzles since he was younger, Wonwoo remembers vividly how amazed he was at how intricately woven the movie he watched with his brother was. And his said brother, Jungkook, found so much splendor in being able to watch such things, that he told himself he wanted to be someone who made those for a living.

And now here they were years later, working on a murder mystery film together.

Jungkook hired his brother to be as a specialist on set. To be honest, Jungkook thought his hyung would be a little bit more excited about it when he was going to be helping Jungkook not only live out a childhood but as well as be on set for a production he actually enjoyed the genre of.

In fact he had to beg Wonwoo to agree to work with him. Wonwoo argued he was in too deep with real life cases to be focused on the fictional case Jungkook wrote about.

And to be fair, Detective Jeon did not reach his rank for nothing, but neither did Director Jeon earn his reputation for nothing.

Still, the only reason why Wonwoo agreed to his brother because of you.

His favorite actress.

"Hyung," Jungkook calls his brother from the couch, "you should watch this drama. It's really good."

Wonwoo was too busy with his English homework to care.

Jungkook ate some chips and turned to his brother that was sat by the far off desk, "Hyyuuunnnngg!"

Said hyung grumbles, "I'm busy."

"Ya, the girl is really pretty."

"Good for her then."

Jungkook scoffs.

After Wonwoo had finished his homework, he decided to watch with his brother, not before scolding him of course. "You know, you'll be in the last year of your college soon too, so you better stop wasting your time watching dramas."

Jungkook rolls his eyes, "I'm literally studying filmography. This is studying for me."

"Aish, what do I know," Wonwoo hisses, grabbing some chips from Jungkook's bag. Once he turned to the screen, Wonwoo felt his eyes widen slightly. "You're right, she's pretty."

"Right? I'll hire her for my murder mystery movie," Jungkook says, nonchalant.

It amazes Wonwoo, even after months of working behind the scenes on this film, that he gets to see you in real life.

Even right now as you acted out a dialogue with another famous actor, Kim Mingyu, it felt surreal when he remembers you're actually just a few steps away.

Jungkook was initially baffled by how star struck Wonwoo was to meet you. I mean, he expected his brother to maybe fan girl, but he flat out blanked when you introduced yourself. For the first time in Jungkook's life, he saw his brother had no wits with him. It's still so hilarious to him that Wonwoo lost his so-called mysterious grace when you smiled.

"Cut! Good take," Jungkook called. He then went over to his brother who was holding a paper bag. It was obvious to anyone Wonwoo was holding some lunch.

Jungkook smiled. He extended his hand out, clearly expecting whatever his brother bought was meant for two, "what is that?"

Wonwoo scowled and moved the brown bag away, "it's not for you."

"Aw what? You bought food just for yourself."

"No. I bought this for-"

"The country's sweetheart," Jungkook teased and wiggled his eye brows.

Wonwoo deadpans and replies dryly, "Yes. Mingyu asked me to buy the sandwich I had the other day."

Jungkook raises his brows and crosses his arms.

Wonwoo clears his throat, "and yes. I bought an extra for her. Why? Can't I?"

Jungkook sneers and slaps his brother's shoulder, "homie is whippedt, with a T."

"What are you? A prepubescent teen?"

"I am cool."

"Ya, is that the sandwhich?" Mingyu calls, suddenly near them. Wonwoo's breath hitches when you smile and wave his way.

Jungkook sniggers softly and decides to watch it play out.

"Thanks, hyung," Mingyu states. Wonwoo and he were close because Jungkook and Mingyu were friends after working so often with each other.

Wonwoo turns to you but looks away when you catch his eye. He clears his throat and finally gains the courage to turn back, "ya... I got you a sandwich too."

Mingyu, who had gotten his sandwich at this point turned to the remaining one in the bag, Wonwoo, you, then pushed the sandwich your way.

You gratefully take the bag and turn to Wonwoo with a grin, "you didn't have to get me one."

Wonwoo scratches his nape, "... the thing is, I wanted to."

Mingyu and Jungkook turn to each other with wide eyes. You chuckle and feel blood rush up your neck.

"You know actually--" Wonwoo starts but gets cut off by his phone ringing. Jungkook eyes him hotly, trying to telepathically tell him not to answer it, but Wonwoo does anyway.

Mingyu rolls his eyes as Wonwoo begins to get into a deep conversation with whomever is on the other line.

Once he's done, Wonwoo turns back to his brother and says, "there's been another murder, I have to go."

Jungkook only nods and doesn't stop him, not that he would, not thay he could. It was terrifying to know that his older brother was so close to bringing a serial killer in.

It started long before production to Jungkook's latest project began. Missing person reports for college girls began to get filled, soon after these girls would be found dead. Initially, theses cases were treated separately since the incidents were scattered all over the city and were seemingly random. It had only been a few months since authorities announced the murders were done by the same person.

It was Wonwoo who spearheaded the investigation.

Wonwoo was on his way to his car to get to the latest crime scene when he was pulled from the back of his coat.

He quickly turn to see what it was holding him back and felt his cheeks burn at the sight of you panting and smiling, "hi."

Wonwoo raises a hand.

You huff, "detective Jeon."

"Yes."

"To be completely honest with you, I'm not sure if you like me or not. You don't really pay me much attention, but when you do you're awfully sweet when you're not avoiding eye contact."

Wonwoo opens his mouth but closes it right after.

"I understand you're a very busy person, and again I'm honestly not sure if you even like me, but I wanted to aks anyway: would you accompany me to a party next week?"

Wonwoo audibly gasps to which you gasp and giggle to. At this point, Wonwoo's face is burning, he can feel it, but he manages to nod, "I would love to."

You break into a smile and nod, "okay? Okay."

"Okay."

"Okay. Next week, friday, okay?"

"Okay."

"Okay good."

tIt was honestly not tha good, considering Wonwoo couldn't stop thinking about it. How was his brain going to get through this crime scene before him when all he could think about was you. It was a real problem. Every time he looked into the room, he found something that reminded him of you, the laundry scattered in the bedroom floor, the posters of celebrities on the wall (to be fair there was one of you in the room), the trinkets on the table. Your everything was fogging his head.

He was lucky Hansol was as sharp as ever because it seems not even the putrid smells in the air was snapping Wonwoo out of his trance.

The date- was it a date (YES IT'S A DATE HYUNG -Jungkook)- came both quickly and agonizingly slowly.

Wonwoo wore a new suit he brought just for the occasion, and for that he was grateful, because this party you took him too was a lot fancier than he had anticipated. It was apparently one of those exclusive events that select people got invited to.

To say Wonwoo was intimidated and out of place would be completely accurate. He was never a party goer, even in college, but if it meant he got to see you dressed up in a rose gold dress and red lipstick then count him in.

Wonwoo tried to stay as close as you as possible-- not for any perverted reason, but so he wouldn't lose you and to protect you from anyone who would dare attempt anything perverted.

You forced him to dance though he never really danced much, but much like the reason why this party was appealing, he enjoyed dancing because of you.

Bless your soul you noticed how awkward Wonwoo looked and decided to call it quits for the dancing. The rest of the night was then spent drinking champagne in the venue's tiny balcony. It was honestly the first time you two had talked by yourself, and though it was awkward, your heart skipped at how Wonwoo described his passions with his deep voice and how he clumsily complimented you.

Honestly, you thought Detective Jeon was the most attractive man you had ever seen, both outwardly and inwardly. He had been nothing but a gentleman around you and never treated you like a distant celebrity, though the many times you've been told how much a fan of yours he was. You wanted to kiss his lips as he continued to speak, but you controlled yourself.

The most that you gave him was a kiss on his cheek when he called a cab for you. Wonwoo would've drove you home had you not specifically told him not to bring a car cause you two would be drinking.

It was still an amazing night regardless.

Page 6 of the newspapers thought so too, Wonwoo learned, as he walked into the station when he got to work.

Hansol rolled over with his office chair, wiggling his eyebrows, "how you doing there, chief."

Wonwoo pretends like he isn't all smug about it when he is, but when he thinks about how this may be impacting you, he doesn't feel smug at all, "mind your own business, Chwe."

"Ya. It is my business because you're dating my first love!"

Wonwoo snaps at him and sneers, "ya! Focus on your work."

Hansol sneers, "so protective."

Wonwoo mutes him out by putting on headphones that played the soundtrack of his favorite mystery film. As he tapped his foot to the beat, he reviewed the file of the serial murder case he was on.

There were a total of 13 victims-- that's how many films you've been in--

Wonwoo screws his eyes shut and shakes his head. That was the most inappropriate thought he could've suddenly thought of.

He reviewed the latest profile of the victim. She was in her last year of high school and played the flute. Wonwoo recalls how you attmepted to play a flute in a variety show.

Wait.

Stop it.

Shit.

Wonwoo increases the volume of his music. He reads that the victim is from your hometown. This actually makes him shiver. Wonwoo rips his headphones off and decides to take a bathroom break, taking his phone with him. This is where he sees a text message from you that reads: are you coming on set today?

Wonwoo quickly replies: yes.

Can you buy me a sandwich?

Yes.

The rest is history.

From that moment moving forward, Wonwoo's confidence is through the roof.. he not only manages to have a decent conversation with you with other, but even when it's just the two of you. He asks you out, to which you agree. He takes you to an ice skating rink, when he flaunts his skating prowess to your shaky legs. Don't tell him though, but you were faking it so that you can cling on to him tightly and closely. But no one mention either that Wonwoo totally saw through it.

Soon enough you became comfortable enough to cook to take him to your place to hangout. This was were Wonwoo finally addressed something that had been bothering him.

"Are you okay with what's happening?"

You knit your brows at his question.

Wonwoo clarifies, "I mean there are a lot of articles about us. At first it was pretty vague, but now they are mentioning my name in the papers. Are you okay with that?"

You pout and raise your brows, "are you okay with that?"

Wonwoo shakes his head, "I've never really cared about what people thought about me, only my friends and family."

You nod. Wonwoo looks in expectation. You can't help but chuckle, "if you want the truth, it's good publicity. You're a famous detective and the netizens are actually in love with you now because you're so handsome."

"... wait really?"

You pout and cross your arms, "I can't believe you're enjoying that."

Wonwoo can't help but laugh at your faintly jealous reaction. He pulls you to his chest and kisses the top of your head, "well, what I really enjoy is being close to you."

You relax against him and unwrap your arms just so you could cling on Wonwoo's torso.

"But you know what I would enjoy more?"

"Hmm?"

"...if... you became my girlfriend."

You pull away slightly and turn to him. You break into a smile, "I thought you'd never ask."

You then take his cheeks and pull him close to your face. You plant your lips on his and his pulls you closer by the small of your back. The kiss encloses the both of you in warmth. It's electric and so calming all at once. It just... feels right, y'know.

It's just pure bliss for the two of you.

At some point, Wonwoo really wasn't need on set anymore, and yet he came around to visit you and Jungkook. Who were you fooling, clearly Wonwoo came around to see you.

He would sometimes be able to take you out to lunch, depending on both of your schedules.

One this for sure was, you clearly both loved each other.

But that shouldn't have been affecting him so badly at work. It perturbed him that everywhere he went, too often even on his case that he thought of you. It disgusted him so much. He pushed all these thoughts away whenever it sprang into mind.

Wonwoo leaned back on his chair and turned from the evidence board he had been staring at for the last ten minutes, to the cup of coffee on his desk. He begins to recall one early morning he spent drinking some hot brew with you.

He smiles. Now that is a welcomed thought.

"I still don't get the correlation," Hansol spoke, making Wonwoo turn to him. He continues, "I'm starting to think that maybe the killer is just fully psychotic."

Wonwoo sighs, "the chances of him being a random picking killer is pretty slim at this point. Some of these girls are the same height and build, and some of them play the same instruments."

"Yes, but they have nothing collectively in common."

Wonwoo shakes his head, "there has to be. My gut is telling me there is."

Wonwoo's phone rings, except it's not his handphone but his work telephone.

"Hello, Detective Jeon from Seoul district 1 station."

No one replies, but there is heavy breathing from the other end. Wonwoo stands from his chair and presses the record button on his phone.

"You can't get her!" he growls in anger. He begins to scream and throw things in the background. Wonwoo pulls the phone away at the loudness.

The man on the other end heaves again. Wonwoo asks, "who is this."

"you know exactly who I am, you bastard!"

"No. If I did, you'd be in jail."

He laughs, "you think you're so good, huh?"

"Who and where are you?" Wonwoo asks, turning to Hansol pointing to the phone. He immediately understands and runs off to try and track who's calling form the other line, or at least where he is.

The man is shuddering in anger, "you will never have her. She's mine!"

Wonwoo feels bile rise from his throat, "who is she? Did you kill another girl?"

"Not yet, but I will if you don't back off. She's the only one I've actually loved and you want to take that away from me?"

"If you love her, why would you kill her?"

"SO YOU COULD NEVER LAY A FINGER ON WHAT'S MINE!"

"Women are not posses--"

"I WARNED YOU. STAY AWAY, OR SHE DIES!"

Hansol couldn't trace the call fast enough. And Wonwoo couldn't sleep that night.

This was when his visits began to lessen. He began to fully focus on his work again, no distractions, and for once, he hadn't thought of you. This was a direct consequence however of both sleep deprivation and not seeing you for a whole eight days.

The next day you visited him at work. It caused quite a commotion and Wonwoo's exhausted mind didn't take kindly to that, which was why he snapped at you and was super cold.

Hansol told him off for rudeness, but he just couldn't rest easy when he could do something at work that could help fins that lunatic serial killer. Chief Seungcheol agreed however that Wonwoo should take a break though.

The moment his head was put on straight, he felt extremely guilty for taking out his emotions on you. Wonwoo apologized profusely and of course you couldn't stay mad because you understood how much stress he was in.

But the thing was, he just couldn't get you out of his head. Again and again, everything he did reminded him of you. The evidence even lead him back to you like a compass and it was too much for him too handle.

This was exactly why it hurt so much when Wonwoo decided to let you go for the sake of the case.

He explained everything to you so neatly. "I am so madly in love with you that I see you everywhere. I see you in the sky. I see you in my coffee. I see you in the breeze. I see you in my sweaters. But I see you too in the evidence I have for the case. I see you in the files and the map board, and it's seriously messing with my head."

It was a line out of movie. It didn't mean it didn't hurt. You were crying your eyeballs out. You didn't understand what breaking up could do to help.

"You wouldn't be mine anymore, so that would incline me not to think about you."

You so badly wanted to slap Wonwoo for saying that, but you couldn't, because he was breaking up with you to catch a killer and prevent anymore murders from happening. If he was that bothered, he probably shouldn't be on the case anymore but you couldn't ask him to leave it when he was distracted because of you.

So instead, you turned away and left.

Wonwoo almost ran after you; it took everything in him not to.

"Don't worry, Jeon," Seungcheol comforted, placing a hand on Wonwoo's shoulder, "the sooner we catch the lunatic, the sooner you can get back with your girlfriend."

"Not unless I get her first," Chan from forensics chimes in, walking with new files of evidence.

"Dude," Hansol barks.

Chan gives an innocent face, "what? I'm trying to lighten the mood." He then hands the file over to Seungcheol, "here you go chief. The killer branded the latest victim's neck with three squares."

Wonwoo spins on his office chair.

Hansol knits his brows deeply, "has he done that with the other victims?"

"No. This is the first time."

Seungcheol places a hand on his chin, "wait. Why does this seem so familiar to me?"

Hansol watches Wonwoo begins to spin the other way around.

Seungcheol shakes his head and rattles his brain for some answer. He suddenly turns to Wonwoo, "ya. Do you know 'The Sleeping Tower'?"

Wonwoo turns to Seungcheol, "yeah, the killer in that drama marked his victims with three squares."

eSungcheol has goose bumps. Hansol turns to Wonwoo, "wait, what is The Sleeping Tower?"

Wonwoo says faux nonchalant, "a drama my ex is in."

Hansol pulls his head back.

Seungcheol moves to the evidence board, "wait just a second, Wonwoo. Did you say all the evidence point to her?"

Everyone shifts their attention to the chief. Wonwoo stops spinning on his chair, "are... are you telling me wh-"

"What do you see, Wonwoo?" Suengcheol asks.

Wonwoo stands form his chair and walks over. He begins to explain the correlation between you and the evidence and the... victims' personality. He argues with himself as he explained what he saw. As he pointed out one thing, he disagreed it could make sense. Wonwoo continued on like that until he actually hears himself say it. This is the first time he’s ever said all this aloud.

Hanson and Chan turn to each other in bewilderment as the detective being to point out strong points.

Wonwoo nearly falls down when he realizes it. Seungcheol turns to him, but Wonwoo's already bolted out the door.

Wonwoo is calling you nonstop. He's gripping the steering wheel so hard.

It all makes sense now. The shirts, the hobbies, the physical attributes, they were all yours. The victims had your merchandise, liked things you did, had procedures done to look like you-- they were your fangirls

And the killer was obsessed with you.

Wonwoo stepped on the gas and turned the siren on.

He screamed your name when he got to your home. You lived in a quiet apartment complex. The good thing about that is the people would be alerted by suspicious people and noise, there were bound to be at least eye witnesses, and there would be cameras in the area.

Wonwoo still had the keys to your apartment. His hands quivered as he jammed the key open.

Once he stepped in someone screamed, "YOU'RE TOO LATE!"

Wonwoo fumed as he saw a long haired man laughing as he stood an open window. He took a moment to assess that he has nothing but a twisted look on his face, he had nothing on his hands or clothes. He charged for him, which in hindsight may truly have been a bad move because he got kicked in the gut.

"I have nothing to live for anymore," he whispers as Wonwoo recoils at the assault. It enrages the detective, and it drives him with enough adrenaline that when the psychopath tires to jump out of the window, he catches him and sequentially bashes the guys face into the sill. He pulls him away and begins to assault his face.

Wonwoo is screaming with tears running down his face when it dawns to him the psychopath said it was too late. He pulls away from the knocked out man. He is shaking.

He screams your name and looks for you in every room. His mind is racing. He’s just too frantic to even begin to think what could have happened to you. He falls to his knees when he reaches the bathroom. There is red scattered everywhere and tub full of it. He makes a desperate sound.

He can't see properly from all his tears. He quickly crawls to the tub and heaves heavily when he sees the body in it.

Wonwoo's hand his trembling when he takes on of yours and feels for a pulse. His lips quiver when he can't find it. He turns to your submerged face and gently moves it to try and get a pulse from your neck. He reels back and makes a horrible sound when he finds a long slice that is gushing out red. Wonwoo at this point is sat on the wet ground, trembling with tears.

He is out of his wits.

He has no idea what to do.

He doesn't even notice that the police team is already here. The next thing he knows is he isn't in your apartment anymore. He is inside a police car, he thinks.

Wonwoo is numb to it all-- the sounds, the flashing lights.

He wonders how he wound up in his brother’s house, and how they both ended up crying in each other’s arms.

"Breaking News: After finally a week's worth of trial, the Supreme Court rules 25 year old Yoon Jeonghan triple life sentence after finding him guilty of the murder of 14 women. He admitted to his crimes and claimed they were out of love. He was a deeply obsessed fan on one if his victims, the actress who was recently given a memorial three days ago. Detective Jeon Wonwoo, who was head investor of the serial killing case, was awarded a medal of honor for apprehending Yoon, which he declined. Detective Jeon was also the boyfriend of the late actress, and was seen with his brother, Director Jeon Jungkook, at the service saying a few words in memoriam of the country's sweetheart."

224 notes · View notes

sodone-withlife · 3 years

Text

icarus fell, and blood stained the ground

i'm back!! (but not really—the new school year literally starts in an hour and it will be back to my pathological dependence on academic validation. at least i can say i've technically published another fic before summer break ends)

anyway, here's the fic in response to part 1 of sumayyah's post. i published a companion poem for this some time ago. as per usual, i gave up on proofreading so hopefully any mistakes don't detract from the story. also, i hope the formatting and jumping back and forth between italics makes sense—let me know if it doesn't, though it might be easier to read on ao3 (it should go up on there by 4pm PST because school)

warnings: murder, major character death (may potentially be classified as suicide-by-proxy, depending on your interpretation), guns, canon typical violence, slight gore at the end, mentioned substances

word count: 1.9k words

The damned man thought of everything, Jessica thought as she scowled at the damned folder that sat innocuously on the large mahogany desk.

The desk that would soon be cleared, all traces of the previous owner gone.

She lifted a shaky hand and brushed it through her hair, shuddering at its greasy and unkempt state that hinted at the state she had been in recently. Weary to the bone, she forced herself to sit back up and grab her phone, dialing the number that was written on the sticky note placed on the inside cover of the folder. It didn’t surprise her to hear an unfamiliar female voice answer the phone with a “Ms. Brooks?”

He had thought of everything, after all.

Really, the only thing she was surprised at was the sheer extent of his connections—but thinking back to her phone calls with Haley back when he was still practicing law, the talks about extravagant offers from top corporations and firms, she really wasn’t surprised. Thus, it made sense that her call to the top law firm in the state would be answered within two dial tones and by someone who already knew who she was.

And within minutes of talking with the woman who introduced herself as Ms. Stevens, Jessica became even more aware of just how prepared her brother-in-law had been before he walked to his dea—

Not an in-law anymore—her brother. He had long since earned that designation, that spot in her broken family, no matter how much self-flagellation he put himself through in regards to her sister’s murder and no matter how much abuse her father hurled at him in the years before the man who once viewed him as a son succumbed to dementia.

Hours later, despite having already reached her limit twenty minutes into the call, she finally hung up the phone with only funeral arrangements as an immediate concern. Slowly, she stood up from the chair and mechanically made her way into the tiny bathroom that had once been a familiar sight, when her nephew was still a child—

She forced her mind away from that minefield; she wasn’t willing to spend another sleepless night thinking about what had gone down in the past month, what had happened a week ago in that apartment, what her nephew was doing and thinking in the cell that only seemed to become colder and crueler the more she thought about it.

How many prisons had he visited? How many interrogation rooms, holding cells, general population cells, max security cells, death row cells? Did he ever get used to it? Could he allow himself to get used to it, to forget that these people are also human no matter the crimes they’ve committed?

A careful hand fell onto Jessica’s shoulder, and she shuddered under the warmth that seeped into her body, a warmth that had been lacking from her life for a long time now. She turned to see Morgan staring back at her, concerned.

“You didn’t pick up your phone,” he explained neutrally, flicking his eyes towards her phone—and sure enough, there were ten missed calls, each from a member of the team. She looked back up but avoided his concerned gaze only to latch onto her reflection in the mirror and internally winced at her haggard appearance.

“Did you—“ she coughed, clearing her throat, “have you figured out what happened?” Morgan’s unspoken question about her well-being went unanswered, and she continued to avoid looking at him.

She watched the man shake his head through the mirror, unsurprised and once again cursing her brother for his incessant habit of playing his cards close to his chest, especially when it came to personal issues.

How else is—was—he one of the best at poker in the bureau, often even beating Reid?

“He hasn’t talked, either,” Morgan informed her quietly, saving her the pain of asking the question herself. “Forensics is still struggling to put together a cohesive picture. To be honest, I doubt we’ll ever find out what actually happened in that apartment.” He shook his head, frustrated at the man he considered his brother.

If either of them bothered to ask, they would have found that both were truthfully unsurprised at this outcome, given what they only recently learned about the factors and circumstances that led to it. The few established facts about this case in addition to speculation based on systematically organized notes left in an even more meticulously organized folder painted a clear enough picture of the events preceding the fall.

But it wasn’t really an accidental, flailing fall.

In all truthfulness, he didn’t fight it.

Icarus let himself fall to his death in an attempt to compensate for his hubris, to suffer the consequences of his mistakes, and it was both a cowardly attempt to escape the hellish burns caused by the boiling, melting wax and a selfless attempt to teach posterity to avoid ending up like him.

Jessica remembered the warmth of Morgan’s embrace when he ignored all protocol and took it upon himself to inform her of what had transpired in the past two months, regardless of the still-ongoing investigation. It didn’t do much to soothe the cold that had threatened to swallow her whole as she listened to the details in silent horror.

He had sat her down in her apartment, the one she had taken care of her ailing father in before he finally died and the one she couldn’t bear to move out of for all of the memories that had been formed inside—with her father on his good days, with her brother, with her nephew

“A week ago, we were invited by MPD to consult on a series of killings that happened over the course of a month. We had an eye on the situation since the second murder, and there were two more victims in the span of a week before we were finally called in,” he began quietly.

He had suspicions as to what was happening by the time the team was invited in on the case at the personal request of the MPD chief. It certainly wasn’t the first time he had come across this profile before, but there were simply too many puzzle pieces with matching edges for the connections to be brushed off as a coincidence.

“Based on the rate at which bodies were popping up, we anticipated another one within two days of us being called in, but the killer had gone suspiciously silent. We went through crime scenes, forensic reports, and things weren’t adding up.”

"It’s a local case and we’ve coordinated with MPD multiple times, they know the drill. I’d like to take a personal look as well, the brass has been all up in my business about this case given its proximity to the Hill."

That’s what he said to the team regarding him suddenly taking the initiative to go to the crime scenes despite his responsibilities—it had been a while since he last went out to crime scenes, often taking care of the office politics and coordinating the investigation back at whatever precinct or office the team had taken over.

“There were odd inconsistencies, missing pieces of evidence… There was evidence to show that the killer was an amateur, but ultimately the profile we ended up building was nowhere near as detailed as we hoped it could be—but it ultimately went a long way in helping us figure out what was really happening.”

Old case files going missing from his home office, growing interest in his job, sudden mood swings happening long after the worst of puberty, increased isolation, dropping grades…

Absentee fathers of Georgetown students being stabbed and shot to death as if the killer was unsure about what to do, an innocuous Jack-in-the-Box takeout bag sitting near the last three bodies…

Numerous signs, and yet it was the outwardly irrelevant piece of trash, perhaps a sign of the killer’s gluttony—a sick joke that only he could have recognized—that led him to put all of the horrifying pieces together. It’s been over a decade, and yet the memories of that damned day remained as clear as ever, dogging his every footstep. Nightmares in which the worst happens still often visit him in his sleep, sometimes even combined with the effects of Peter Lewis’s drug concoction, effects lingering even after all these years.

“Somehow, we completely missed the fact that he fit the victimology. Maybe it was because of his efforts to distract us… If we had put it together earlier we might have been able to figure it out much earlier, and maybe everything could have turned out differently.”

Only after intensive counseling and careful editing of his case reports was he allowed to continue in the bureau after Lewis and his targeted attacks, and yet he knew he was still being watched. It was with that thought in mind that he made a decision on how to handle the situation. Either way, his life would be irrevocably changed, and there would be casualties alongside him.

All he had to do was figure out how to minimize them.

“He never came in that morning; Reid was the first to notice the lights off in the office. We were headed towards his apartment complex as soon as we saw a cleared-out office with a retirement letter being the only thing left on the desk. All of the pictures, trinkets, law books, messy stacks of paperwork—gone.”

A retirement letter for formality's sake, one copy emailed directly to the director and one printed on his desk, to simplify some things for the bureau and to ensure that Jessica and his son get his pension should the worst happen. All of his decisions, meticulously recorded and justified, except for this last one to protect the team from the consequences of his choice. All of his notes, all of the claimed evidence, carefully stored in the file box he left next to the retirement letter back in the office. Favors accumulated since law school called in, contacts throughout the local justice system ready to step in and deal with the fallout.

All of this, an attempt to compensate for the mistakes he’s made over the years and his hubris, to protect the remnants of his family and the team.

Morgan couldn’t finish telling Jessica what had happened, voice somehow caught in his throat and refusing to cooperate. He simply shook his head, and she folded in on herself, the weight of the last week too much for her to hold up. Slowly, he pulled her into a hug, rubbing her back but not doing much more to soothe her.

This is a wound that wouldn’t ever heal.

The story ends like this:

Icarus burned, and Aaron Hotchner said nothing as the hand that held the gun against his temple shook with uncertainty. Everything he wanted to say was written—one might call him a coward, but writing had always been so much easier for him—and he knew that he would be the final casualty, that the killings would stop after tonight.

Icarus fell, and Aaron Hotchner was flung sideways, the unyielding bullet from his gun fired by his own son shredding the brain that thought had of everything but the emotional and psychological effects his final decision would have on his family and friends.

Daedalus grieved over his son’s crumpled form, and Jack Hotchner would be found with his father’s dead body in his shaking arms as he stared blankly at sights unseen to the team, who had come hours too late.

Blood stained the ground, seeping into the cracks and crevices of grasping fingers, and nothing would ever be the same.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #bau #jessica brooks #jack hotchner #tw character death #tw guns #tw violence #tw murder #tw death #just to cover my bases #tw substances #tw drugs #tw gore

32 notes · View notes

jalapeno-princess · 4 years

Text

Hey Santa

Mark Tuan X Reader

Word Count: 2.8K

Genre: Fluffity fluff

Summary: Christmas has always been your favorite holiday, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to be all that happy this year since your favorite person in the entire world is currently thousands of miles away on a business trip. However, Santa always seems to have a few tricks up his sleeve and this Christmas turns out not that bad after all.

The lights and festive decorations surrounded all throughout town were a constant reminder that Christmas was just around the corner—five days to be exact. As excited as you wish you could have been right now, especially because winter just so happened to be your favorite season and Christmas was your favorite holiday for many different reasons, you couldn’t find it in yourself to really get in to the Christmas spirit this year.

If anything, you felt like the grinch. Witnessing how happy everyone you were surrounded by—your family, friends and colleagues did make you feel the least bit jealous.

Just last year, you were the one trying to get everyone in to the Christmas spirit. You set up your Christmas tree in your apartment a week before Thanksgiving. You stayed up with your boyfriend Mark making dozens of different cookies to pass out, the two of you decorated the tree to the best of your abilities—or at least tried your best to.

You’d cuddle up on the couch together watching a bunch of your favorite Christmas movies and hummed along to some of the best Christmas songs; new and old while washing dishes or doing the laundry. Last year had to be the best year, especially because it was your first Christmas together as a couple.

He brought you to see the lights; something you’ve been indirectly hinting towards wanting to do, you brought him ice skating—one of the only activities you did better at than him, he invited you to go snowboarding and sledding with his family up in the mountains and on Christmas Day, he gave you the prettiest heart shaped necklace and told you he loved you for the first time after five months of dating.

Maybe it was because you had the time of your life the previous year with the man you called your soulmate and now you were miserable and lonely. Mark was currently away on a business trip in Japan, trying to secure one of the biggest business deals that could bring his company a lot of success.

You had a hard time understanding why his boss felt the need to send him just days away from Christmas but you didn’t want him knowing that it bothered you. Your boyfriend was one of the youngest department supervisors at one of the top technology companies in the country.

Not only was he extremely intelligent; graduating with his master’s degree in business at only 24-years-old, but he was very passionate in his field of work and he did anything and everything in his power to help bring the company as much publicity and prosperity as he possibly could. You admired his work ethic and how determined he was to excel in his career, but you would have preferred for him to be with you right now.

It was currently snowing in California and there was nothing more that you wanted than to be cuddled up in bed with Mark—a tangle of limbs underneath your blankets watching the snow fall against your window while drinking some hot chocolate and stealing sweet kisses from one another.

If Mark were to come home and saw how dull and empty the current state your apartment had been because you had no desire to do anything merry—he would have been upset. He loved Christmas as much if not just a little bit more than you did—so you were sure he wouldn’t have been too happy if he found out you were having such a horrible time.

On the day that he found out about his trip, he was visibly upset. He wasn’t as verbal as he was physical with you—clinging on to you like a sloth. Following you all around the apartment like a lost puppy and holding you in his embrace as you cooked dinner for the two of you. It was then—mid bite of his shrimp pasta—Mark admitted that he tried to prolong telling you about the trip because he knew you would be devastated.

Honestly, that had to be the understatement of the year. You were heartbroken beyond belief. This year, your grandparents were flying down for your younger cousin’s graduation and it’s been at least two years since you’ve seen them, so you expected this holiday season to be one for the books. However, you didn’t take his absence so lightly. Your boyfriend has left on business trips multiple times for weeks and even months on end.

Sure, you hated any moment spent without him by your side and talking to him through your phone and computer screens weren’t the same as having him there with you in person—but you did your best to be a supportive girlfriend by not showing an ounce of distress. It’s just that—Christmas came around once a year; you suffered through work and school; crying while staying up and studying for exams—being scolded at work for things that were out of your control. You waited all year for this one day and now it was ruined.

You hated the fact that you were acting so childish, there was nothing he could do. It wasn’t as if he could tell his higher ups that he didn’t want to go—no matter how much he didn’t want to. Mark even nonchalantly tried to reschedule the trip, but the director already purchased his ticket.

He made it a habit to call you right before a meeting, before he went to bed, right before you went to sleep and when you woke up in the morning. Hearing that Japan was decked out in Christmas decorations and how even their food was festive made you wish you could have taken off from work to be there with him. You didn’t care where you ended up spending the holidays, all you cared about was who you spent it with and the only person whose presence you craved the most was more than 5,000 miles away and 19 hours ahead of you.

Working at your family’s Christmas annual “Santa’s Workshop” that they held every year since before you were even born never failed to bring you so much joy. When your cousin was diagnosed with Leukemia when the two of you were only 6-years-old, your aunty decided after seeing all the children in the hospital not able to celebrate Christmas as they probably would have wanted to—that she would give them and their families a chance to have their own little private festival in one of the hospital ballrooms so that the kids could get a visit from Santa Claus along with toys that were donated from families all across of California. You loved being able to do something like this; you wanted to give back to the less fortunate and seeing the bright and hopeful smiles on all the adorable little children’s faces always seemed to make your heart flutter.

How could you be so selfish—letting the fact that Mark wasn’t there with you get in the way of your happiness when there were little ones who were suffering through some really tough battles. But you were only human; you hardly ever got to see Mark as it was—and that said a lot considering that you lived together. His job took up most of his time and you did your best to hide the fact that being his second priority bothered you.

Trying to take on more hours at work in order to take your mind off of the distance in your relationship wasn’t enough to cover up how much you were falling apart at the seams. Mark Tuan was the love of your life—your life revolved around him. He was genuinely the biggest blessing that you couldn’t even fathom in to words how grateful you were to be the lucky one who got to love him and was vehemently loved by him. You missed him even when you were with him. You felt pathetic—allowing someone to have this much power over you, but that just showed how much you loved him with your entire being.

As much as you would rather have been locked up in your room watching home alone reruns while stuffing your face—being dressed up as an elf and assisting the children as they made their way one by one on to Santa’s lap; telling him what they each wanted for Christmas wasn’t all too bad. It was actually the best thing to happen so far since December came around. You found yourself smiling every time one of the patients beamed up at Santa Claus.

Honestly, nine hours went by faster than you would have expected it to. Observing the way the kids would grin in delight after receiving a present tugged on your heartstrings and opened your eyes to the idea that Christmas was so much more than asking for and getting all the items on your Christmas list. It was seeing these hopeful little faces gleam even for only a few moments. You might have missed your boyfriend dearly, but you knew he would make up for lost time once he finally arrived back like he always did.

After the last child got a gift from Santa and made their way back to their hospital room, you and your cousins began to close up shop—turning off the lights on the tree, folding up some of the poster boards and just preparing everything for the next day when you heard someone gently whisper your name.

You smiled softly at the older man; he was a friend of your uncle’s who has been dressing up as Santa for longer than you could remember. You made your way towards him and laughed softly to yourself when he patted his lap.

“Do my old eyes deceive me or is your smile not as sincere as it usually is? what’s wrong y/n? you’re always so bright and cheery this time of year but these days, your excitement seems so forced.”

Releasing a sad sigh, you were well aware you couldn’t lie to him; he already knew there was something bothering you so there was no point in hiding what was currently clouding your entire thought process.

“You’re going to think it’s silly—“

“Your feelings aren’t silly y/n. You’re only human, it’s okay to be sad sometimes, even during the most wonderful time of the year. I’m sure you haven’t told anyone else what’s wrong, so why don’t you tell Santa? Maybe I have a gift for you that might uplift your spirits.”

You were too busy staring at the ground in disappointment to notice the glint in his eye—but you didn’t want to keep him waiting. It was late, you were sure he wanted to go home just as much as you did, so you poured your heart out to the older man.

“My boyfriend—he’s currently on a business trip in Japan and I just—I don’t know, I miss him dearly and I just wish he could have been home for the holidays and now I feel like a grumpy little scrooge.”

He laughed lightly while gently squeezing your arms as a way to comfort you. Admitting it out loud sounded so pathetic but it also made you feel lighter in a way. Telling someone else of your problems felt good; it took a huge weight off of your shoulders, but it didn’t feel the void Mark always seemed to cause whenever he had to leave.

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with moping around because of that. The holiday season is the time you want to spend with your loved ones the most. Your parents told me about him a few months ago—Mark is it? He sounds like a really great guy and your mom seems impatient waiting for the two of you to get married. I’m sorry about the unfortunate situation y/n, but just think about it this way, you’ll have many, many more Christmases to spend with him. Don’t let this one circumstance ruin the way you look at this glorious wintertime. If you’ll excuse me, I have to use the bathroom, I’ll be right back.”

He was right; it has only been almost two years since you and Mark began dating, but you knew he was the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. You sat there for a few minutes, looking at your phone to see if Mark had gotten in contact with you and you let out a sad sigh when you realized there was nothing. He did say he had meetings to attend the entire day—so you understood that he was probably busy, but it didn’t make you feel all that much better.

Finally, you could see in your peripheral vision that the older man arrived back and motioned for you to get up before sitting back down and had you take your spot back on his knee.

“I’ve never felt this way about anyone before—I love that man with every single breath that I take. Waking up next to him—feeling his heartbeat against mine, I can’t explain how exuberant he makes me feel. Every time we’re together, it’s like we’re in our own little worlds. He’s been so busy these days and sometimes I feel as though I’m a burden to him. I’m sure he’s probably exhausted after coming home from work, but he never fails to do whatever it is that I want to do together just to make me smile. I want nothing more to marry him one day—maybe I should fly up to Japan and surprise him—“

“I don’t think that would be the best idea right now.”

You frowned at his words; wasn’t he encouraging you earlier to try and make the best of the next two weeks until the new year? What made him change his mind in the few minutes while he was away? Before you could ask him about what he could have meant, he wrapped his hands around your waist and placed his chin on top of your shoulder.

You were surprised at the sudden movement—you didn’t want to seem rude and push him away because you were now feeling uncomfortable, but you didn’t know how to feel. However, before you could say or do anything, he brought his mouth up to your ear and whispered softly before placing a gentle kiss right below your ear.

“If you go to Japan, then we won’t be able to celebrate the holidays together babe.”

Your eyes widened in shock—how could you not differentiate between the two voices? Maybe you were too deep in your self pity to notice—but you flung your arms around his neck and smashed your lips against his. Your boyfriend smiled against your mouth and depend the kiss as his hands made their way down to your lower back.

“Mark you ass! I was about ready to sock a family friend in the face, why didn’t you tell me you were coming home? You knew how miserable I’ve been—“

He stole a wet kiss from the corner of your mouth; his way to silence you before playfully squeezing one of your thighs.

“I’ve been just as miserable baby. I’m sorry, I was actually debating on whether or not I should tell you—but your mom told me that it would be a lot more fun if I surprised you. You’re well aware that I can’t keep secrets for shit. I almost blurted it out last night when you told me how rough your day was. None of that matters though—I’m here now and I have a lot planned for us. I’ve missed you so fucking much baby. Don’t get me wrong, Japan is such an amazing country—but fuck, I feel so numb when you’re not by my side. By the way, I feel the same exact way about you y/n. You’re my entire world. I love you so—so very much. I don’t think there’s enough words in the English dictionary to form a sentence perfect enough to describe what it is that I feel for you. I’m sorry—so fucking sorry that you think my job means more to me than you do. Nothing in this entire world means even half as much to me as you do. I’m at fault for making it seem that way, but I plan on spending the rest of my life showing you and telling you otherwise. Now, there are a few mistletoes that have our names on it—why don’t you let me make up for not being around as much as I should. This Christmas will be a lot more astounding, that’s a promise.”

He reconnected your lips together, not being able to stay away from your lips for too long. You really did miss this. Being held by him, feeling him lick on your bottom lip—nonverbally asking for entrance, having him run his fingers through your hair. Mark was your home—you always felt so safe in his arms and God, you’ve been homesick for quite some time. After a couple minutes of fervently making out, you grabbed at his hand and pulled him up with you—laughing at how the santa suit he was currently wearing practically swallowed his silhouette.

“You’re such an adorable Santa Clause.”

He playfully rolled his eyes at your comment as you led him to the back in order to get your things. Mark made sure you weren’t paying attention as he tapped on his leg to make sure the velvet box was still safely in his pocket. If you thought his early arrival home was already quite the surprise, he couldn’t wait to see the look on your face when he were to pop the question he’s been wanting to ask you from the beginning of your relationship. This Christmas was definitely going to be one for the books, and he couldn’t wait.

#got7 imagines #mark tuan #mark tuan imagines #got7 #got7 mark

47 notes · View notes

villainousshakespeare · 4 years

Text

Clippings A Loki One Shot

A year or so ago I started reading Sucker’s Luck, the brilliant story by @wrathkitty, and we were messaging about Loki pranking the Avengers with newspaper and magazine articles. I always had it in the back of my mind that I wanted to do something with it, so this is the result of that! Just some silly fun!

Loki/Reader

Rated T - Kissing, flirting, silliness, fluff, obnoxious Loki, bored Loki

Summary: You are the head of PR for the Avengers. Normally you love your job, but a series of pranks has you scrambling to recover. At last it occurs to you who the culprit must be - a certain God of Mischief living just a few flights down.

It had started simply enough. Tony had stumbled into his office one morning in Stark Tower, hung over (naturally) and grumpy as hell (as goes without saying). He banged into the corner of his desk, cursing the piece of furniture for existing, and an avalanche of treacherously stacked mail flurried down around him.

He hadn't looked at any of it for over three weeks. He and Pepper were "on a break" and she was working exclusively from the California office. As a result, nothing was where it was supposed to be. It was unfortunate, but you had told the temp assigned to his mail that it was better that way. Should she touch or misplace the wrong thing, it would be far worse than if she simply let it lie where it came in. People knew well enough to direct the important things to his department heads, including yourself in public relations.

As he stared sourly at the pile of paper littering his floor, Tony's eyes were drawn to a copy of Time Magazine. There on the cover, in bright red and gold, was his picture in his suit, face plate open to reveal his handsome mug. The banner read "(IRON)Man of the Year!"

Or at any rate that was what it was supposed to say. You had spoken at length to the publisher to ensure that it was the banner. Unfortunately, on closer examination that made his head pound as though a certain Thunder God was using it for hammer practice, the words had been altered to read "(IDIOT)Man of the Year!" In addition to the change in text, devil horns had been inked onto his helmet, a long tail was curling out from behind him, complete with pointed end, and he held a pitchfork in his hand. For a final insult, the artist had blacked out three of his teeth.

Half an hour later, he had stormed into your office a few floors below.

"Alright," he said, slapping the offending magazine down on your desk as you quickly hung up your call and gave him your attention. "I can take a joke. So one of my subordinates wanted to be clever, did they? I suppose I might have said or done something in the past to have deserved it."

"Oh dear," you tried not to laugh as you stared at the cover. "Do you know who it was?"

"No, I don't," he growled, throwing another copy with the same alterations onto your work space, "because they are All. Like. This!"

One by one he slammed a stack of magazines in front of you, each one displaying the altered text and image of him.

"I examined it, and it seems to be the original ink, not an alteration after printing," he ground out. "I assume, of course, that this was not the copy you approved? Because if it was, I am grossly overpaying you."

"It is not what I agreed to," you hastened to assure him. "Maybe it was a saboteur on the print floor. Someone from Hammer Tech maybe? Or, not to get all personal here, maybe an ex-girlfriend?"

"I don't know," he snapped, glaring at the desiccated image. "All I know is I want them pulled. All of them. Now!"

"Of course," you agreed at once.

It was not as easy as you might have hoped. It seemed every copy had been printed with the alteration. Worse than that, there were posters and billboards all over New York where Tony could see them, as well as in other cities, and all had somehow been created with the offensive graphic. It was a nightmare getting them pulled, and by the time you did the television media had already picked up on them.

A week later, it was Steve and Bucky's turn. You knew something was up when you entered the Avenger's Tower and saw the lobby festooned with hundreds of bouquets of flowers. Curious about the preponderance of blossoms, you had plucked a card from one and choked back your laughter as you read.

"To Steve and Bucky," it said in a loopy script, "congratulations on making it official. You are a lovely couple."

Oh dear, you thought. This could not be good.

When you reached your office, your assistant was waiting for you, a newspaper in her hand.

"Um, boss," she said with a worried tone of voice, "have your looked at the Times today?"

"No," you felt a wave of dread flow over you. "Why?"

"I put a copy on your desk," she said instead of answering directly.

Warily, you picked up the paper open to the Wedding Section of the Weekend Times. There, right in the center of the page above the fold, was a picture of Captain America and his friend The Winter Soldier. Underneath the article read:

"Steve Rogers And James (Bucky) Barnes are delighted to announce their engagement. The two have been secretly a couple since before the invention of the color television, but decided to finally go public. Says Rogers, 'I got tired of him trying to keep his options open. If he wants all this, he better put a ring on it!' A date has yet to be set, but the couple are hoping for a June wedding. In lieu of gifts, please make donations to your local AARP."

The fact that a church had been booked and a florist and caterer engaged made it even harder to unravel all of the headaches that went with that particular prank. Steve was mortified by the announcement, insisting to anyone who would listen that he was more than happy with the status of his relationship with his oldest friend. Oddly, Bucky didn't seem particularly bothered by it, but did give Steve some searching looks after word of the article made its way around the building.

You received the Thor article yourself, two weeks later. You had been lulled into a state of false security as things calmed down in Avenger's world. You should have known better. An envelope addressed to the public relations depart had of course ended up on your desk. Inside, a clipping from page 6 was stuck inside a note card. Looking at the card, you found an elegant, bold hand had written "For Thor" on the card.

The article was not good. It appeared that Dr. Jane Foster had been seen out and about in London with a wealthy, outrageously good looking scientist. The two looked quite close as they sat sipping cocktails under the stars in the picture, her hand clasped in his. A red marker had been used to draw a large heart around the image, and in the margins of the article were written such commentary as "Oh dear, is she cheating?", "Good for her!", "Looks like someone is trading up!" and, most cuttingly, "Is someone's hammer bigger than a certain God's? Inquiring minds want to know!"

"Oh, good God!" you groaned, lowering your head to the desk, dreading the thought of sharing the offensive paper with Thor. Briefly, you thought of hiding it from the blond Asgardian, but you thought better of it. Though you had no way of knowing for sure, you would bet money that, just as with the Time Magazine cover, every copy of the story was similarly compromised. Someone was bound to see it and say something to Thor. As director of the Avenger's public relations, it was best to come from you.

It just made no sense! Tony you could understand. You loved the man, but even he had to admit that he had made his share of enemies in his life. Hell, half of the Avenger's work seemed to be neutralizing people that he had offended at one time or another to the extent of turning them into super villains! Steve, Bucky, and Thor, however, were all likeable, inoffensive men. Who could possibly want to make mischief for any of them?

Mischief. Your head shot up and your eyes narrowed. It couldn't be. Could it? The more you thought about it, one name screamed itself into your brain, to the point where you couldn't understand why you hadn't thought of it before. It was so bloody obvious!

With grim determination you rose from your desk and tromped your way to the elevator, punching in one of the residential floors when it arrived. The call, it seemed, was coming from inside the house.

When you got to the door, you knocked hard and tapped your toe impatiently as you waited for a response. You knew he was there, of course. He was not allowed to go anywhere else, at least not unless escorted by his brother, and you knew for a fact that Thor was off world at the moment. Just when you were considering going to get reinforcements, a lazy, bored sounding voice called from within, inviting you to come in.

Bracing yourself for what was sure to be a confrontation, you opened the door and let yourself into the rooms of Loki, prince of Asgard and "guest" of SHIELD. If guest could be used to describe a God held against their will in an impregnable tower containing numerous enhanced individuals intent on seeing that he stayed where they could keep a constant eye on him.

The room was decorated in golds and greens, all lush and comfortable looking. Bookshelves lined the walls, and additional stacks of books littered the floor and table. Loki himself lay on a couch on the far side of the room, one arm behind his head, the other held a large volume that he seemed completely engrossed in. He did not so much as look in your direction as you stood on the door step, unsure how to begin.

"If you're looking for Thor," he said in a lazy drawl, not bothering to look up, "you might try next door."

"Thor is off world and you know it," you snapped, fighting down your agitation.

No one in your life had ever made you as anxious al Loki did on a good day. The man... the God was a public relations nightmare! He was the living definition of "loose canon", libel to say or do anything without warning. You supposed it came with his job description, but it did not make your life any easier. The fact that he was stupidly handsome and cuttingly witty just insured that any chance the press got to cover him was leaped at.

"I said you could try, I didn't say you would find him," Loki smirked, still looking at his book. He read for a few more moments before seeming to come to a stopping place, marking it with a bookmark, and finally, finally raising his eyes to you. "Ah, director! How nice of you to visit!"

"This isn't a social call, Loki," you said with very little grace.

"Well, that is a shame," he purred, sitting up and smoothing out his soft green tunic that veed to show just a teasing glimpse of his chest. "I get so few visitors, and those I do are not nearly so pleasing to converse with, or to look at for that matter."

You felt your eyes narrow as you stared at him, trying to tell if he was mocking you or not. You knew that he could lie as easily as breath, but you could not suppress the small, niggling hope that he meant it. It galled you to know end, but you could not quite rid yourself of an asinine crush on the God. Pulling yourself together, you tried to recover your initial irritation.

"The pranks, Loki," you told him in a severe voice, "they end. Now."

"What pranks?" he asked innocently, one eyebrow arching.

"You know damn well what pranks, Loki! The Time Magazine cover. The wedding announcement. And now the article with Dr. Foster."

"Ooh, what has my brother's favorite mortal done now?" he asked, seeming for all the world like he was legitimately curious.

"So you are saying you are not responsible for altering the articles?" you demanded.

"Director, how on this blasted realm would I be responsible for anything?" he asked reasonably. "I am confined by this infernal bracelet on my ankle to this suite of rooms, only allowed out when my hulking mass of a brother chooses to take pity on me."

"You have magic," you said tentatively.

"Yes, once again confined by this device they force me to wear. I don't know why you need me to tell you this, Director. You yourself spoke most eloquently on the television about me. What was the quote now? Let me see...'We owe Prince Loki an apology. Far from being the mastermind behind the Attack on New York, he did everything in his considerable powers to prevent it. Were it not for his double agent machinations, the loss of life would be catastrophic. He is, in my eyes, a hero. None the less, the Asgardian Prince, realizing that tensions are running high in the aftermath of the incident, has graciously agreed to certain precautions, including a device to curtail his magic for the duration of his stay.'"

It was word for word the statement you had made on behalf of the Avengers and SHIELD months ago. That fact that Loki remembered it, and had altered his voice somehow to mimic your cadence and tone, rendered you momentarily speechless. As you struggled for response, a wicked grin spread across his face.

"I did so love to hear you defending me that way, my dear. Tell me, do you really consider me a hero?" his voice was smooth as honey as he rose from the couch and moved toward you, unconscious grace in his every movement.

"It is my job to put a good spin on things," you said, sounding lame to your own ears.

"So, then you don't find me gracious? Or even just a touch heroic?" he purred, now very much intruding on your personal space. "You don't think I have considerable powers?"

"Of course you have powers," you gulped, feeling your pulse race as he leaned his forearm on the wall next to your head. "It's why I am convinced that you altered those articles."

"Ah yes, the articles," he said as though he had forgotten all about them, as he grinned down at you from far too close.

"Yes. The articles. It's why I am here," you reminded both of you, wondering how to describe the smell that surrounded him other than delicious.

"If that is the case, then why ever would I stop? If I were to be the one creating them. You presence here in my rooms is the most enjoyment I've had in months."

"Why?" you blurted out, hating yourself the moment the word left your lips.

"I like you," he said simply. "You don't shy away from me when I so much as look at you. You don't moralize at me. You don't pity me."

"Pity you?" your voice squeaked upward. "You're a gorgeous, princely god with super powers! In what universe would you be pitied?"

"I am a captive, gorgeous, princely god," he corrected, eyes sparkling as he held yours. "One hated by the Midgardians, cast out by both birth and adopted parents, suffered at best by my host jailers. Many might pity me. But not you. You see me as something else."

"I see you as a pr nightmare!" you grumbled, unable to look away from him. "The amount of chaos you cause for my office with your little jokes is more than even Stark, and I didn't think that was possible."

"Oh, I am sorry," he said, sounding anything but. "You could have avoided it, you know."

"How?" you demanded, swallowing as he leaned in even more.

"By coming to visit sooner. I thought I was going to have to get Banner's friend accepted to the Bronx Zoo before you finally showed up here."

"You did this on purpose?" you gasped. "To see me?"

"I'm not saying I did do it," he hedged, eyes glittering with amusement, "but if I did, that would certainly be one of two very good reasons to do so."

"And the other?" you asked, just to have something to say while your mind processed the information.

"It was funny," he laughed, breath ghosting across your neck and making you shiver.

Against your will, you suddenly laughed as well. The picture of Tony, the announcement for Steve and Bucky, the comments on Jane and Thor, now that you weren't in the throes of putting out the fires they had caused, you could see clearly the hilarity of his silly pranks. It felt good to let down your professional demeanor and giggle like a teenager over the outrage they had caused.

"Did the jests truly make your job too difficult," he asked, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear and making your mouth go dry.

"I handled it," you said, voice distressingly unstable.

"I have no doubt. You are good at your job. I watch you on the box whenever you appear before the moronic press. You make even my brother sound as though he knows what he is doing."

"Thor is sweet," you protested weakly.

"Thor is an idiot," he said, though not without a trace of affection. "You are not. I find it a rare treat."

"Thank you," your voice was little more than a whisper.

"If the pranks, as you called them, were to stop," he said, eyes lowering to look at your lips, "and you had more free time on your hands, do you think you might spend so of it with me? Say, for dinner?"

"I... I could probably manage that," you said. "If you would like."

"I would very much like," he murmured. "May I, Director?"

Not needing him to clarify, you gave a small nod of your head. As soon as that brief sign of consent had been given, Loki lowered his lips to yours in a kiss that was gentle and tentative, not at all what you had been expecting. He pulled back after a few moments, the taste of his lips lingering against yours, and you gazed up at him with glazed eyes.

"Tonight then?" you asked, not caring if you sounded desperate.

"Tonight would be fine," he smiled at you, brushing your cheek with the back of his hand. "I will look forward to it greatly.

"I should get back to work then," you sighed, not wanting to leave but knowing you had a deadline. "There's an interview on now that I need to monitor."

"Very well," Loki sounded resigned, but still walked you gallantly the two feet to the door. "I shall see you later then."

You smiled goofily at him, not believing you had a date with the god of mischief, when suddenly Loki's eyes snapped up to the television in the corner.

"The interview," Loki said, improbably appearing just behind you. "It is with Director Fury?"

"Yes. Why?"

Wordlessly Loki snapped his fingers and the television began playing. On the screen, a buttoned down news anchor was doing his best not to break as Nick Fury expounded on the benefits of the Avengers Initiative. It would have been an intimidating speech were it not for the message flashing in bright green lights across his eyepatch. "I'm Nick Fury, Bitch!" was the least obscene of the bunch. Slowly you closed your eyes and shook your head.

"Perhaps we should move dinner until tomorrow," he said with evident disappointment.

"Is this all" you asked, feeling impending doom.

"I promise," his voice was warring between amusement and chastisement. "I had forgotten about this one until now. I mean, if I was responsible."

"Dinner better be damn good," you sighed.

"I promise you, pet," he said, smiling smugly, "dinner will be worth it."

"In that case," you bit your bottom lip. "I will go clean up this mess and see you tomorrow."

Loki raised your hand to his lips and kissed it, letting his tongue just ever so slightly graze against your skin. It was enough to set you tingling to your toes.

"I live in anticipation," he told you.

"Loki," you said, smiling sweetly.

"Yes, darling?"

"Remember, I control the press. You do something like this again, I will make sure that everyone knows how devoted you are to Thor, and what a soft, sentimental soul you have."

"You wouldn't!" he gasped, horrified.

"Try me Mischief," you smiled, feeling at last a bit more like yourself.

"Oh, I knew I was right about you," he smiled in admiration. "My dear, we are going to have so much fun."

Turning slowly, you sauntered to the elevator. All in all, it had been a good day.

@arch-venus25 @caffiend-queen @ciaodarknessmyheart @frostbitten-written @hopelessromanticspoonie @hiddlesholic @just-the-hiddles @kellatron55 @nonsensicalobsessions @poetic-fiasco @redfoxwritesstuff @shiningloki @vodka-and-some-sass @wrathkitty @yespolkadotkitty @thecutestlittlebunbunfairy

#Loki #Loki/reader #Loki/you #Loki is bored #Obnoxious Trickster God #Fluff #Silliness #Pranks #Tony Stark #Thor #Bucky Barnes #Steve Rogers #fan fic #Avengers Fic #loki fic #Kissing #Flirting #Post Avengers Assemble

58 notes · View notes

mirkwoodshewolf · 5 years

Text

Give love one more chance; Gwilym Lee x reader

*Author’s note*

Hello everyone well I have yet another request that came from my wattpad account and this time the request is all about our lovely mini-Bri Gwilym Lee. Now as a warning THERE IS HEAVY MENTIONS OF CHEATING (not on Gwil’s part but it’s for the back story) and due to that there is angst but I PROMISE FLUFF IS THROUGHOUT MOST OF THIS STORY esp. once the ending comes around. So I hope you all enjoy this little fic and until the next update my darlings :)

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@psychosupernatural

@waddles03

@ixchel-9275

@georgesgentlyweepingguitar

@queendeakyy

@geek-and-proud

@simonedk

@kairosfreddie

__________________________________________________________

I was walking around the main stage set where they would be filming the most iconic scene ever, the Live Aid sequence. I was just in awe at how the stage designers were following everything by the book, from the brick wall patterns, to the posters that hung on them at the time, even some of the paint chipping away.

For those that are curious, the name’s (y/n) (l/n). I’ve been on the road with Queen ever since they started working alongside my best friend, Adam Lambert. Yep, Adam and I go way back since middle school as a matter of fact. We were both the awkward kids who no one really paid attention too and loved classic rock, esp. Queen. When Adam told me he was planning to audition for American Idol, I just couldn’t let him go on alone.

I was his big supporter and went to every live performance cheering him from the sidelines, even helping his team organize and making sure he had everything he needed to his performances. And even though he was a runner up, he was still a winner in my book. Then when he came out to me as well as the world about his sexuality, that didn’t change my perspective of him. I stuck by him because we were the Odd-kids through thick and thin.

Then by 2014 he met up once again with Queen a few years after performing with them back during his season of American Idol and that’s when they offered Adam to be the new leading man for their concerts and thus Queen+Adam Lambert was born.

And then just two years later, Queen officially began to project that was the film ‘Bohemian Rhapsody.’ Adam had invited me along since he had a small little cameo to play and he said that I could potentially have a small role in the film too, but I turned to role down. I just—never really fit well with a camera’s attention on me.

But here I am as support for Adam as well as Brian and Roger. Those two men have really become role models and sorta like second dad’s to me in a way. When life got to stressful on the road; Brian always took me aside and the two of us would look at the SaveMe animal videos he had on his website, while Roger was the one with the good therapeutic music to listen to, he even got me into some bands that I never really had the chance to listen too. Even his former solo band’s ‘The Cross’ music.

“Oh my god. This is beautiful.” It was then I bumped into someone’s back.

“Oh sorry my fault.” We both said at the same time but when I looked up to see just who it was that I had bumped into, I felt like I needed to do a double take because I swear to god I thought I was looking at Brian May at the time of Live Aid.

“Wow you’re gorgeous.” I thought I had said in my head but apparently my lips just had to voice it out loud to him. Embarrassingly I hid my face but I heard the Brian look-alike softly chuckle and he said.

“It’s fine love, I’m flattered, really. Guess I really look the part don’t I?”

“Yeah.” I nervously giggled.

“I’m Gwilym. And as you can probably tell by the wig, I’m playing Brian May in the film.”

“(Y/n). I’m uhh—Adam’s best friend.” God could this be any more humiliating.

“Oh so you’re the one Brian and Roger told us about. The clever roadie.”

“Well I wouldn’t call myself clever. They just flatter me because I work for them.”

“No, no, no. Brian especially talks about how you’ve been able to work on fixing all the AMPS that break down during rehearsal, or knowing when exactly his red special needs a tuning or new string set.” I blushed and that’s when he said, “Oh I’ve gone and rambled making you uncomfortable. I’m so sorry (y/n).”

“It’s fine Gwilym. So is this your first acting gig? Or have you been doing this for a while?”

“I guess you could call me a child actor. My first gig was in a show called Animal Ark, I think I was 13 years old when I auditioned for it. Then after getting my education I dived fully into the acting industry with a few television shows and a few movies. My recent big project was when I was in Midsomer murders, have you heard that show?”

“I think so. My dad was always into British tv more than American tv. Even though he was born in Minnesota.”

“I was only on for only 3 series before I went into some other projects.”

“Well I’d love to see the show sometime. And you said it was called midtown murders?”

“Midsomer, actually.”

“Oh right sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

And that’s kinda what we ended up doing. We just sat there and talked right up until it was time to start filming. I wished him good luck and as the actors got into place, I stood beside Roger, Brian’s daughter Emily and Peter “Phoebe” Freestone. Shortly after the boys entered the stage much like Queen did 31 years Brian came up and sat down beside me and that’s when Rami, who was playing Freddie, set down at the piano and the guys all began to play the full Live Aid set.

As I looked at each of them I knew each of these guys had done their homework. And seeing them in full costume and shtick, it was like I was actually there at the concert seeing them. Of course my eyes were especially focused on Gwil who played Brian’s red special with such ease and finesse, it was like I was really watching Brian during the time of Live Aid.

Of course being a Queen fan, I couldn’t help but interact with each song they did, the double handclap for Radio Gaga and We will rock you, following along to the Aye-oh’s, headbanging to Hammer to fall, dancing to Crazy little thing called love, and swaying to We are the champions.

After doing several rehearsals, Dexter finally decided to film the guys for real this time. And even though it was cold and the guys were probably exhausted, they still managed to perform the whole show once more with even more energy and enthusiasm when the cameras were really recording. By the end of it all, I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face.

When I finally came backstage after the guys and some of the crew congratulated them on a job well done, I don’t know why it happened but I couldn’t help but fling myself towards Gwilym and embrace him.

“Seems our Brian look-alike has found his little groupie.” Teased Rami using his Freddie voice. At that point I backed away and released him.

“Sorry. I just—got a little excited. Seeing you four up there it was like—finally seeing all four members of Queen back together for the first time in a long time.”

“We’re glad you loved it (y/n).” Gwilym said with a soft smile that made butterflies tickle my stomach.

“So you said you love Queen? What’s your favorite song of theirs?” asked the John Deacon look alike, damn much like Gwil, he definitely looked like Deacy, I can see why the casting directors chose him, it was like he was his son or something.

“Oh god well don’t tell them this but it’s definitely Somebody to love.”

“I like her already. We match!” he raised his hand up for a high five which I complied to give him as he introduced himself as Joe Mazzello.

Pretty soon I knew the other two actor’s names, Ben Hardy who was playing Roger, and Rami Malek who was playing the legend himself Freddie Mercury.

*Brian’s POV*

As I watched our genius little roadie chat up with the actors playing us, my mind kept going back to that hug she gave my look-alike.

“I know you saw that right, I mean I maybe blind as a fucking bat but I know my eyes didn’t deceive me on what I just saw.” Roger said as he came up to me.

“Your eyes do not lie Rog. I saw what you saw.”

“You know our girl doesn’t just hug any random guy.”

“Yep. And that shy little gleam in her eyes, dare I say I think our mini-Deacy is in love with my look alike.”

“Not to say I’m happy for her, but I feel like she could’ve chose better.” Roger teased.

“Oh shut it you old tart, you’re just jealous she didn’t pick your actor.”

“Nothing against yours, cause bloody hell it’s like I’m looking at you 30 years ago over there.” I softly chuckle. Yeah they definitely casted the perfect actor to play me, and seeing Gwilym with the wig on its…..mind boggling (although I had to slightly adjust the wig a bit) but other than that he was perfect. “So, shall we go and confront her about it?”

“Now hold on Rog, you know how she gets when she’s being fully confronted. She’ll completely shut down. Let’s—wait it out. See what happens, and then we’ll see if this is something to discuss with her. But it’ll be on my terms.”

“You just wanna suck the joy out of everything.” I shook my head at Roger’s statement before turning back towards (y/n) and Gwilym. Seeing the two of them talking and laughing with each other warmed my heart. Because ever since we’ve met her, (y/n) has been the best roadie we’ve ever had. She’s always on top of every sound and light equipment we’ve got, she knows how Adam likes his speakers to sound and she’s even clever enough to see when I need a new string set on my guitars or when Roger’s kit needs a tuning because of a loose screw that might’ve happened while unloading.

But for whatever reason she sometimes puts herself down, claiming that she’s not all what we’ve both told her she is. That she’d rather just remain invisible, and I can understand some of her pain because I’ve been there myself with my own self-doubt and insecurities. So I hope that if her and Gwilym do somehow manage to form a relationship, he could probably help her see that she is more than she seems.

*My POV*

After a couple weeks of being on set, Gwil and I were definitely spending a lot of time together and every time we got the chance to hang out, we’d talk about our lives or love of Queen.

“So you and Adam Lambert really knew each other that long?” he asked me.

“Yep. It just happened one day during lunch, I was the new kid in town and I feared no one wanted to hang out with me so I ended up eating in the courtyard by myself when Adam, all donned up with his green dyed stripped bangs introduced himself and we’ve been friends ever since.”

“So he was even extravagant even back then.”

“Yep. Then when we found out we both had a love for Queen, he refused to let me out of his life afterwards, cause I was the only friend he had that liked or even knew who Queen were.”

“Wait are you serious?”

“Dead serious. It’s hard to find people to talk about classic rock with when all they cared about was the rap music or Britney Spears. Or spice girls.”

“Wow.”

“So how did you come to know Queen’s music?”

“You’ll have to thank my old brother. He had basically almost every single Queen record there was, one day I heard him play Bohemian Rhapsody and I was curious. And I guess you could say the rest is history.”

“Well then your brother gets an A+ from me for good music taste.”

“So how is it touring with Queen and Adam?”

“Well I’ve toured with Adam for so long it just feels like a normal hang out day for us. Once he got the offer to tour with Queen themselves it was like not only meeting my role models but they became family to us. Brian and I have a common love for animals, so much so that I’ve become a daily donor to his SaveMe organization.”

“Hey Gwilym. They’re ready to start filming.” One of the producers came up.

“Well that’s my cue, see you after?”

“You bet.” We stood up and I went ahead and sat down at one of the chairs and watched as the guys did the performance for a Japan concert. I’ll admit even with the 70’s silk/satin angel shirt that he was wearing, he still looked pretty handsome and he sure was a brilliant guitarist if I do say so myself.

“I see what you’re doing.” Adam’s sing-song voice whispered in my ear. I came out of my daze and whispered to him.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh don’t play dumb with me dearie. I have eyes I’m not blind.” I shook my head and went back to paying attention to the guys now doing Brian’s song ’39. I clapped along with the song and softly sung the words (cause out of every song Bri had written, this was definitely my #1 fav.) When Dexter called cut, I suddenly felt myself being dragged away and soon found myself in a closet of sorts.

“Adam what the fuck is the matter with you?”

“Well would you rather talk about this out there where everyone can hear, potentially your secret lover too?” I immediately covered his mouth with my hand and I hissed at him as I shushed him.

“Shh! Shh! Speak louder why don’t you I don’t think they heard all the way from Glasgow!” I then retracted my hand in disgust as I felt him actually lick my palm. “Why must you do that?”

“Cause I know it annoys you.” He shrugged.

“You can be such an asshole sometimes Lambert.”

“Yeah but you always stick around me dearie.” He said smugly as he leaned up against the wall of the closet crossing his arms. “Now as I was saying back there, you’re really starting to get attached to Brian’s mini-him aren’t you?”

“No!” I snapped abruptly. He quirked his brow at me before I cleared my throat and said. “No, we’re just friends is all Adam. In fact if you keep going down this path, I might just replace you with him.”

“That hurts (n/n), that really hurts.” He mocked in pain as he placed his hand over his heart and gave me the puppy dog pout. “But girl c’mon for realzies, what’s up with you?”

“Nothing is up, okay can you just drop it? Now if you’ll excuse me Gwilym and I are due for a coffee break.” I walked out of the closet and stormed out trying to get my mind off of what Adam was hinting. As I was walking, I soon came up to Gwilym and when he saw me he smiled and I tried to calm my anger down as I approached him calmly.

“You okay (y/n)?”

“Yeah, yeah why would you say that?”

“Just—for a moment it looked like you were pissed at something.”

“Oh nothing you need to worry about, so you free for some coffee and catering? I know you’ve got a long day ahead of you, might not be a bad idea to have a good lunch.”

“Great because I had to skip breakfast when my alarm failed to wake me up this morning.”

“Well then we better hurry. We need food stat, can’t have one of the four Queen members perform on an empty belly.” We then raced over towards the catering and got us some food and coffee.

When we got it and was now walking through the studio where they were now setting up the Madison Square Garden set just opposite of where the Japan stage was earlier this morning.

“Wait so that actually happened?” asked Gwilym.

“He tries to deny it and blames it on the poor lighting the camera had but don’t be fooled. His son Rufus told me the whole story of how it happened.”

“I can’t believe he made his hair green.”

“His hair was already blonde as it was, he’s lucky it didn’t make his hair bleach blonde.”

“Well that’s not as funny as Joe thinking he’ll be able to wash out that perm he got.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa he thinks what now?”

“Yeah Joe thinks that in the next week or two it’s gonna grow out and go back to normal.”

“Oh my god Joey!” I laughed.

“Like just the other night we were all out in the pub the four of us and he was chatting away to a girl with his Yankees cap on. So I went up and flipped the hat off and said as I pointed to his hair ‘he’s got a perm’!” I couldn’t help but laugh hysterically.

“You are so bad.”

“Yeah. Bad wingman but good friend.” I continued laughing which turned into giggles.

“Ahh Joey, Joey, Joey, Joey.”

“GAHH SON OF A BITCH!!!” we both heard someone call out.

“Uh-oh.” I said as Gwil and I looked at each other and set out stuff aside on a nearby table before racing across the studio and I asked. “What happened?”

“Damn circuits in these lights shocked me and now I can barely feel my hand anymore.” Said one of the light engineers.

“Okay, okay here let me see it.” I walked up to him and held his hand in both of mine. There was some slight swelling but I thankfully no serious burn marks. “Well good news is, is that there’s no serious burn marks. But it is swollen red. I suggest some ice and rest for the rest of the day. And get a medic to check out your reflexes in case the shock might’ve nulled your muscles.”

“But we need another light technician to help us raise these lights for the Madison Square Garden set.” Said a female volunteer.

“You’re looking at your spare one. Besides I’ve spent my whole life with Roger and Brian to know how they want MSG to look. Now, what’s your name?” I turned to the guy who got shocked.

“Arnold.”

“Arnold, go see a medic about your injury and take the rest of the day off. Anyone asks or has a problem with it, send them my way, okay?”

“Okay, thank you.” He said with a slight smile before heading out to the medics trailer.

“Okay now what exactly are we dealing with here?” I asked the seven other light technicians.

“Well we’re trying to make sure all these lights intersect with each other so that they can change colors like they do at the real MSG. Arnold was working on the main circuit board to work the code in when it backfired and you heard what happened as the result.”

“Okay well first things first it could’ve been prevented if he were wearing gloves, rookie mistake.” I then took out my gloves that I always keep on me in my back pocket and put them on. “Goggles.” I said as I extended my arm out and someone handed me some spare goggles. Once I had them on I proceeded to work.

I called out for various equipment pieces like the 4 in 1 Podger rachet, a Leatherman supertool, and some batteries. Once I had the main board opened I began working on finding the loose circuit that probably caused Arnold’s shocking surprise because that needed to be fixed immediately.

Using a mini-flashlight I managed to find the area and found the problem.

“Okay I see the problem. Can someone hold the flashlight for me?”

“I got it.” Said one of the female volunteers as she came up and took the flashlight from me and I went right to work on the wires, making sure they were tucked in correctly and un exposed. It took some time but by the end of it all, I punched the code that was needed for the lights to turn on.

“There, that should do it.” I said as I took my gloves off and removed my goggles.

“Okay boys raise her up!” called the main lighting technician and soon the lights were raised up. Then using his phone, he activated the lights and they soon began shining into a red and blue pattern that would go along with the orange, yellow and green pattern. The light technicians clapped and thanked me for the assistance and when I turned to Gwil, he just had this awed look on his face.

“Sorry you had to see that. Whenever I hear a technical problem I just gotta jump in.”

“Well I’m glad you did. I was amazed to see how you were able to work all that out.”

“Oh it’s not that hard. All I had to do was just tighten the circuits and then replace the batteries while also—oh there I go again. My tech ramblings again, sorry if I’m boring you Gwilym you don’t need to hear all that.”

“No, no, no it’s genius. I mean back when I was doing theater in secondary and university, I never really had a good grasp on the tech theater side of it even though I was trying my best.”

“Not everyone does. I was the only one who took the class seriously back in high school. Everyone else rather just look at their magazines or porno books. Don’t ask me how they snuck it in.”

“Wow, well thankfully they had you to take it seriously.”

“Uh-huh.” I said sadly as I looked down and rubbed my wrist nervously.

“(Y/n)?”

“Hmm?”

“You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Just—thinking back.”

“Anything you’d…..like to share? I’ve been told I’m a good listener.”

“Thank Gwilym but I don’t wanna bore you with my life. C’mon let’s get back to our food before you’re needed on set again.” I said as I walked away and went back to my donuts and Cinnabons. Gwil followed behind me and began to eat his celery and carrots as well as drinking his coffee, as we ate I tried my best to avoid eye contact with him up until I finished my things and tossed them in the bin before heading out.

Making an excuse that Bri and Rog had texted me saying that they wanted to talk about the lighting and sound for their next concert.

Later that night as everyone was packing up to do some of the outdoor scenes like Adam’s big cameo appearance, I found myself standing away from the set just staring up at the night sky.

“Penny for your thoughts?” I looked up to see Gwil coming by to sit beside me in the spare chair where Adam was just sitting at before he went to hair and makeup.

“Just—taking in the sky.” He looked up and he said.

“It’s a full moon out tonight.”

“Yep. The one time for a straight week where the tides are stronger and can sometimes have an effect on the human mind.”

“Quite the philosopher you are.”

“Well I did minor in it in college. My major was in electrical engineering.”

“So not only good with your hands but also a brilliant mind in philosophy as well. No wonder why Brian calls you the mini-Deacy.” I smiled briefly.

“The reason why I know about the full moon is because of him. He did give me a little lecture on astronomy. But I’d be lying if I didn’t have a fascination with space already. Just—never could understand the specific science talk it came with.”

“I hear yah. When I was a kid; my brother and I would go out to the backyard and we’d just look up at the stars and make as many pictures with them as we could. Sometimes we even stayed out all night. Worried my mum to no end.”

“I think it’d worry me too if my kids ended up staying outside in the cold night with no blankets or a tent to sleep in.” we turned to look at each other and once again Gwil had this awed look on his face, just like he did this afternoon. “What is it?”

“Nothing it’s just…..” he trailed off.

“Just what?”

“Your eyes.”

“M—my eyes?”

“They….they sparkle underneath the moonlight. Almost like they were two stars themselves.” I was speechless. I felt my heart race and my face beginning to heat up. I turned away probably blushing as red as an apple right now. I felt Gwil’s hand gently go on top of mine, before intertwining them together which made me look up at him. It was then I saw him lean closer towards me, his forehead pressing against mine while his nose gently brushed up against mine.

At this point I could hear my heart racing in my ears as the smell of his cologne sent me into a hypnotic state. I felt his hand cup the side of my face as he faintly whispered.

“So beautiful.” But just before he could kiss me, Joe’s voice could be heard from a mile away.

“YO GWIL WHERE ARE YAH!? WE’RE ABOUT TO START FILMING!!!”

“If this is payback for the pub he’s so gonna get it.” I heard him mutter angrily. He turned back towards me and he said, “Sorry love.”

“It’s okay.” I strained out. “Just, just, just, just go film your scenes for the night.” I said as I crossed my arms over me protectively and looked down. I couldn’t look at him, I just couldn’t find the strength to do so. I then heard him walk away and that’s when the tears started pouring down.

I took off running to the nearest place I could find. I didn’t even bother to look and see what it was, all I wanted to know was that I could be alone and that I could cry to myself in peace. I collapsed to the floor on my butt and tucked my legs up into my chest and began to softly cry.

I don’t know how long I was crying in wherever I was for but it was then I heard the door open and soon coming in was Adam and Rami.

“(Y/n)?” Adam said surprised. I felt myself being torn down as I had finally been revealed. I must’ve came into the hair and makeup trailer and now that they were probably calling it quits, everyone would soon come in and see me crying my eyes out.

“(Y/n) you okay?” Rami asked.

“Hey uhh Rami could you give us a moment alone? Maybe guard the door so that no one comes in just yet?”

“Yeah, yeah sure thing.” I heard the door shut and that’s when I saw Adam sit down in front of me. I looked up at him to see him in the truck driver get up with the full beard and long haired wig.

“You were right. Okay you wanna hear me say it Adam Lambert?! You were right! I’m in love with Gwilym Lee!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa okay. Okay. Calm down, calm down.” He said as he cautiously reached forward and gently gripped my arms in his hands. “I’m happy you finally came to terms with it dearie, that’s great news actually. But what’s got you so upset?”

“For Christ sake Adam tell me you didn’t forget about the bullying I had to endure all throughout middle and high school! And Jared!” at the mention of the boy’s name his eyes widened and he said.

“Okay hold on, wait just a damn second. Gwilym is nowhere near what that dick Jared was. I’ve seen the two of you together and he makes you happier way more than what Jared did.”

“Well Jared made me happy until he did what he did!” I looked down at my knees and continued lowly, “Oh Adam. I thought I could just keep up a friendship with Gwilym, but now I—” I trailed off as more sobs came up my throat as I choked out, “Now I…..I wish I never came here!” I then broke down once more.

I felt Adam sit close beside me before he wrapped his arms around me bringing me into his chest and kissing my forehead as he rubbed my back in soothing circles and stroked down my hair.

Once I calmed down after what felt like crying all night, Adam took me out of the trailer and already I could see a crowd of people including Gwil standing around asking all sorts of questions at seeing me.

“Guys please. No questions are necessary and please don’t ask me because I won’t answer them either. What was said in the trailer stays between (y/n) and me.” Adam made a clear statement before finally taking me away to find Brian or Roger.

When we finally came across Roger, he soon got protective and asked.

“What happened?”

“Roger could you just take (y/n) back to the hotel, I’ll explain later.”

“Alright, come with me lovie.” I was soon switched out from Adam’s arms to Roger’s and he guided me towards his car. He helped me into the backseat where I could hide away while he drove us back to the hotel.

I was now in my room lying on my bed hiding under the blankets after just spending a long time under the hot water trying to get rid of the memories of Jared.

You see—I had met Jared during the first collaboration with Adam and Queen. He was actually one of Brian’s roadies and helped set up all of Brian’s AMPS. We had a common love for electronics and gradated with the same major even being an ocean apart. We shortly began dating afterwards and were madly in love.

But when a serious accident caused him to take an early retirement from being on the road since the damage had been done to his lower back. Which left me to go on the road with Queen and Adam, but we still kept in touch.

Fast forward to just a year ago after four years of dating, I began to wonder if there was gonna be a future with the two of us together. So one day after we had gotten done with a tour, I get a text from Jared saying that the next night he wanted to meet me at the very restaurant where we had our first official date at. Adam of course was thrilled thinking that a proposal was in the horizon so he helped me get dolled up the next morning (even with him being completely jetlagged) and I met Jared at our restaurant.

I was trembling with anxiety but also with joy. He took my hand, looked deep into my eyes and that’s when he dropped the bombshell, but it wasn’t what you’d think it was. Jared had confessed to me in our restaurant where we had our first date, along with many others that he had been cheating on me.

But not just with one woman, not two, not three, but lots of women. All in the entire span we had been dating.

I refused to listen to anything else he had to say as he tried to defend himself. But no that’s not the worst part, the worst part of it was, was that the following day (after crying in Adam’s arms all day), Jared came to the stage where Queen and Adam were performing in London and tried to win me back. Saying that it was just a fluck and that he still loved me with all his heart.

He’d constantly tried to call or text me over 100 times a day. The harassment went on for months till finally I had a restraining order put against him and if he should violate it in the state of England, he’d be arrested. To which he was and was sentenced to five years in jail for refusal to obey the restraining order as well as stalking (yeah he’d stalk me cross country during some of the tours and even snuck backstage and confronted me with arms open and tears rolling down his face).

Ever since then, I’d been afraid to love again because what if they end up being another Jared. Charming, sweet, noble, funny and charismatic, but the second I turn my back he’d go and sleep with half the women in America. And then make me to be the bad guy because I couldn’t give them a chance to explain why he had to cheat.

I heard a knock at the door and I could only groan as my door soon opened and I felt three separate dips around my bed.

“Adam told us (y/n).” Brian’s voice said. I groaned and buried myself into my pillow.

“You know you’ll suffocate yourself if you do that.” Adam said.

“Better that than dealing with this bitch.” I groaned pitifully.

“C’mon (n/n), come out from under there and look at us.” Roger said. I shot up and glared at him and said.

“There, happy? Goodnight!” before I could collapse back down onto the bed, Adam held me up and trapped me in his arms as he said.

“Stay out here.”

“(Y/n). We know that—you know who really hurt you.” Brian started off.

“Hurt doesn’t even come close to how I felt the day he told me that. God never did I want to kill someone until that day.”

“I don’t blame you, none of us do.” Adam said as he rubbed my back. “But you can’t let what Jared did affect you for the rest of your life.”

“Think it’s already a little too late for that.”

“No it’s not. Because look at what you’ve accomplished since his arrest. The only guys you had a close connection with are me and the guys. Now you’ve become friends with Rami, Ben, Joe and Gwil. And what’s even greater is that you’ve come to accept that you’re starting to have feelings for Gwil.” Adam said. I looked down and I said.

“How do I know it’ll work out? What if it’s like Jared all over again?”

“You’ll never know unless you go for it.” Roger said. I looked between the three of them but didn’t answer.

“The choice is up to you (y/n). Just make sure that whatever you do decide, you won’t regret it. And just listen to your heart. We’ll support you no matter what you choose.” Brian said as he placed a comforting hand to my shoulder. I nodded and thanked the guys as they brought me into a group hug.

The next morning I came onto set for the last time (since Adam was done with his cameo, he was needed back at the studio to promote some of his solo stuff, and as his SM manager I needed to be there to spread the word) to confront Gwilym and finally let go of the past (if I could).

I walked around the set till I finally found the person I was searching for. He was fiddling around with a mock Red special practicing before he would have to film the ‘We will rock you’ scene. I took a deep breath in before exhaling out and walked towards him.

“Hey Gwil?” he looked up at me and said.

“(Y/n). You’re—you’re still here. I thought you and Adam already left?”

“No, not till tomorrow. I uhh—I wanted to talk to you. About……” I trailed off and that’s when he stood up setting the guitar down and finished my thought.

“About last night?” I nodded. He sighed heavily as he pressed his hands to his face, “I’m really sorry (y/n). I never meant to upset, I was impulsive and stupid to do that. Can we just forget what happened? I was way out of line.”

“Actually Gwilym I—I have something to confess. But can we talk somewhere privately?”

“Of course, we can talk in my trailer. If you’re comfortable with that.” I nodded and soon the two of us headed towards his trailer.

When we got there, he closed the door and I sat down on his sofa while he sat down at one of his chairs and said.

“Okay (y/n), what is it you need to confess?” my leg was bouncing up and down as I tried to formulate the words that I was about to tell him. I felt the familiar sting of tears in my eyes.

“God I’m sorry.” I choked out.

“No, no, no never feel sorry about this. Please take your time.”

“Last night I—I wasn’t upset because of the, well the about to be kiss. In fact I—I wanted to kiss you too.”

“But.” He stated knowing that I had something else to add on.

“There’s a—reason why I’m so insecure about myself. And—why I haven’t been in a relationship.” I then proceeded to tell him everything. From the bullies at school, to Jared’s story and how badly he had hurt me. Used me. Treated me like trash. By the end of it all, Gwil was leaning up against his chair with a heavy expression.

“That son of a—bloody hell. (Y/n) I—I’m so, so sorry you had to go through that hell.”

“Brian, Roger and Adam made it easier on me. After his arrest they allowed me to take some time off from the rest of the tour that I was dealing with to decompress from all that stress. I thought I would never love someone ever again. Until……I met you.” I admitted the last part shyly.

“You—you love me?”

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same. I just—had to get it off my chest. So if I’ve made things awkward between us now, I’m sorry. We don’t have to see each other again.”

“(Y/n), (y/n) (y/n) (y/n) (y/n), (y/n).” Gwil came up and knelt in front of me and held my face in his hands. “Sorry you were starting to ramble on so much I could barely understand you.”

“Sorry. Adam always said I did that whenever I get to anxious. Bad trait of mine.”

“No worries love. Now to put your fears and anxiety aside, I want to tell you that I felt the same way about you. After spending these last few weeks together, I came to know the real you and not just through the stories from Brian and Roger. But now hearing this story, which I commend you for telling me. I know you didn’t have to tell me but you did. And I could go on and on about my feelings for you but to summarize it all up, if you’ll give me a chance. I’ll show you that not all men are like that selfish arsehole. I can be the man you deserve. The one who will treat you right, like you’re the only women left on Earth.”

“Do you really mean that?”

“The only girl I’ll love as much as you is my mum.” I smiled and pressed my forehead against Gwil’s and softly thanked him. “I promise (y/n). You’ll be my clever girl.”

“Think I like the sound of that.”

“Well you better get used to it, because there will be a lot of cute little nicknames in the future.”

“Just as long as you don’t give me any cheesy ones like bunny, or cupcake, or turtledove.”

“Spoil sport. And those were the first three I was thinking of.” I softly laughed as a true genuine smile came across my face. “And there’s that beautiful smile that makes me week at the knees. Next to your eyes, your smile is the brightest thing about you.”

“Gwil stop it you’re making me blush.” He softly chuckled before slowly leaning his lips towards mine and he gave me a soft kiss. When I felt that sudden bolt of electricity shoot up my spine, I knew that Gwil was definitely going to be different than Jared. Even with that soft peck, there was so much passion and love in it that Jared never brought me.

I leaned forward and captured his lips once more, this time brushing my fingers through his short brown hair as I felt his arms slowly wrap further around me.

This was gonna be an adjustment in the days to come. After coming out of the relationship I had, I knew there would be some doubts in the future, especially with Gwil and I having separate careers always being a part from each other (me more than him) but I felt in my bones that when he made that promise earlier, he meant it.

And I was proven right that within 2 years shortly after the Bohemian Rhapsody premiere, I got a proposal right there at the red carpet.

89 notes · View notes

kuratoki · 4 years

Text

Changes 6.5

Annyeong~ So it’s been a long time since Changes was last updated...was it? Honestly I can’t remember >< I’ve been wanting to post more consistently so instead of posting a chapter time I finish one, I decided to finish the whole story instead and this post means...CHANGES IS COMING TO AN END!! I’m thinking no more than 3-4 more chapters before I get started on the SEQUEL! Distance

Depending on the flow of things, I may post every other day as I bust out the sequel and another fic that I have in the works so I can post them co-consecutively but we shall see...anyways, thanks for supporting Changes ^-^

Also I think I may have bias switched six times this comeback. Just saying.

Do you agree that things change in time? Well four years abroad would tell wouldn’t it?

Pairing: Reader x Jeno ft. NCT

Words: 4769 (Why was this longer than the last chapter T-T)

Warning: Mild swearing

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 6.5

“So are you guys thinking about joining the club?” Doyoung asked.

After school activities were done and a large group of people which consisted of various members of the NCT Dance Club and a few others were at a restaurant to welcome Renjun, Chenle to the school as well as welcoming back Sicheng.

“WinWin said we had no choice.” Chenle answered, “He said it was part of the transfer requirement.”

“Transfer requirement.” Taeyong said, using his fingers as air quotes, “It’s your choice but from what we’ve heard, it’d be great to have you both. I heard you aren’t a dance major Chenle.”

“I’m a voice major.” Chenle said and pointed at Renjun, “He’s the dance major.”

“Speaking of dance,” Renjun said wiping his mouth, “Jeno, I heard you won the National School dance competition as a junior soloist last year.”

Jeno looked up at the boy mid bite and nodded his head.

“Are you planning on competing again this year?” Renjun asked curiously and you looked at Jeno with the same curious look, wondering if he too was planning on competing.

“I’m still deciding.” Jeno said, mouth full of meat before swallowing, “I might just compete in the group dance this year. Give someone else a go. Why do you ask?”

“Just curious. I heard through some friends that you really stole the show.” he said with a small smirk that Jeno picked up on and his eyes narrowed, “Wish I saw it myself.”

You looked at Renjun, wondering what he meant by that and the bright smile your friend gave you made you suspicious. It was that, I’m going to do something stupid but I also know what I’m doing smile. First he cut you off in the library and now he was asking weird questions.

“Yea! Jeno’s dance was one of the best I’ve ever seen him perform.” Mark said hyping him up, “It was so emotional yet so powerful. Totally deserved the national title.”

Many people around the table agreed and Doyoung almost looked like a proud father.

“Must’ve been about someone then.” Renjun said with a nod, “You know what they say, the piece comes out more meaningful when it’s meant for someone else.”

“It’s like how Y/N’s contemporary piece got her the role of Omlgmlsml” Chenle started but you were quick to lean over and muffle the brunette boy with a steamed bun and the look you gave him told him to shut up.

Renjun turned to look at you in shock, he knew what Chenle was going to say and he was surprised you didn’t tell any of your friends about it.

“You never told them you were THE Odette?” Renjun gasped and curious heads turned towards your conversation as your friends around you stared at you in shock, making you smack your head down on the table. This was not how you wanted your biggest secret to come out.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want anyone to know. You were still healing from your sprained knee at the time of auditions and despite all the late night practices(doctor approved) with Renjun, you weren’t confident. Even when Renjun said you were a shoe in for the part, you felt like you couldn’t do it. In the end you skipped the audition. What you didn’t know was that Renjun already had a plan B and that was what got you the role.

The day the roles were announced, you were floored to see that you got the part of the Swan Princess herself. When you asked the casting director how you got the role without auditioning, he had told you that your audition video made most of the team cry and they couldn’t not have you as their Swan Princess.

You knew Renjun was behind this right away and you wondered what video he had submitted on your behalf. Of course you couldn’t be mad at him even though he went behind your back. He was one of the few who knew that your dream was to play Odette in the Swan Lake Ballet production and thanks to him, you were able to achieve that dream.

The production consisted of the top ballet dancers of the junior level and students all over Europe auditioned for various parts. It was a grueling process that took several months and many students waited anxiously for the results. Once the roles were announced, the new cast would spend half a year in London practicing before performing for sold out shows in one of London’s most well known theaters.

The year that you were in the production, the producers wanted to do something fun and made you wear an elaborate Swan mask throughout the production. On the promo poster the only persons name who was not mentioned was yours and the picture was of Renjun as the Prince and you wearing that swan mask. Only those who attended the shows would’ve seen your face but tickets at the time were limited. You would think that you’d invite your friends along with your parents to at least one of the shows but no, you only invited WinWin and his family along with your parents. This was your best kept secret. What you didn’t know is that it was also known as the best portrayal of Odette performed by a junior.

“You were Odette?” Hana asked with wide eyes, “With Renjun?”

“Mhm.” you said muffled.

“But Renjun was the Prince for the Select Junior Ballet performance…” Jisung said looking down before he looked at you in shock, “W-Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“What’s chicken little getting at?” Yuta asked looking around the group and Renjun had the urge to smack you in the face but reached over and started to shake you violently instead.

“Are you serious right now? I get that you wore a mask for like half the production and your name wasn’t even in the program for surprise sakes but it’s literally you in the promo poster they’re using to promote the ballet even now!” he raged, “Why didn’t you tell anyone?! Were you that embarrassed to dance with me?! Your nickname was fucking Swan Princess for fucks sakes!”

“Stooooop!!” you whined, sitting up straight and attempted to stop Renjun from shaking you as your stomach had yet to settle, “You know I didn’t want the attention. I wasn’t going to audition and then you went and submitted the tape behind my back.”

“We promised that we’d audition together!” Renjun growled, “And what do you do? Not even show up for the audition. Thank goodness I made that excuse that you were sick and they let you send in an audition tape instead.”

“Which you broke into my apartment to get.” you growled back, “The key I gave you was for emergency’s only.”

“Yea and that was an emergency.” Renjun argued, “You were already set for the part and I was not going to put the hours of practice we put into it to waste!”

“I only rehearsed with you because you wanted to audition!” you exclaimed, agitation evident in your voice.

“Guys cut it out.” Chenle called out from his seat fed up with his friends behavior, “This is why people still think you hate each other!”

During the time, Jeno, Jisung and Jaemin could only observe your bickering with Renjun like a ping pong match. It was a side of you neither of them was familiar with and truth be told, Renjun was the only person who was able to bring this side out of you.

The two of you met on the first day of practices your first year and truth be told, you didn’t like each other right away. The two of you came into the academy under high recommendation from your previous schools so the expectations for you were high. In the beginning, the two of you would discreetly argue over the smallest of things, Renjun always acting more superior. It wasn’t till you were paired for a project that you had to suck it up and get along.

You found out that when you weren’t arguing or being nitpicky over the others posture, you actually had very decent conversations. He also had this weird side which you weren’t sure if you should be taking seriously or not but in the end, the two of you became as close as bread and butter.

“So this is a normal thing?” Jisung asked Chenle and the boy nodded.

“There’s something wrong when a day goes by where they actually agree on something. But he’s her Ying to his Yang and they both brought out the best in each other.” Chenle said eyeing his two friends who were now getting harassed by Hana for not inviting her to such an iconic performance, “He helped her heal.”

“Jeno?” Jisung asked curiously as he looked at Jeno, who was looking somewhat annoyed with the way Renjuns arm had yet to leave your shoulders and you, who was completely immersed in a story Renjun was telling. “Renjun helped her with the piece?”

“He helped her get her emotions out.” Chenle corrected, “The choreo was all her. She performed it for her end of year recital and ended up winning first place that year...she was supposed to come back the year after and claim her spot back but she got into the accident and gave it up to second place.”

“Who was that?” Jisung asked and Chenle was shocked he didn’t know.

“Wong Yuwen, Yukhei’s sister.” he answered and thought again, “I still find it coincidental that it was Yukhei who caused her accident that summer though...I know that the girls didn’t really get along since Yuwen saw Y/N as competition from day one”

“Yukhei’s sister? You guys know Yukhei too?” Jisung asked again, his eyes wide and Chenle gave him an odd look from all of his questions but Jisung had good reasoning for it.

“Renjun was the one who introduced Yukhei to Y/N. We all knew each other in China and Yukhei came with me since his sister attended the same school when I visited the first time. We spent a lot of time together...well Y/N spent a lot of time rejecting Yukhei so..” Chenle said and noted the look on Jisungs face, “You good bro?

Jisung’s mind was boggling. It couldn’t have been a coincidence could it? He knew that you had won first place in your schools competition, he even knew bits and pieces who Renjun and Chenle were but never ever had you brought up knowing Yukhei on that personal level. He just knew that you had met briefly before camp the first year and that you rejected him once. Outside of that, he had no idea why Yukhei loved to bother you so much but now the pieces of the puzzle were coming together.

Jisung shook out of his thoughts and gave Chenle a reassuring smile and thumbs up. This new person seemed to know a lot and Jisung was curious to what else he knew about your association with Yukhei.

“Oh yea, I forgot to ask. Where are you guys staying?” Hana asked once everyone had finished eating.

“We’re both staying at a house my family bought recently nearby.” Chenle answered, “If I remember the address correctly, it’s not that far from Y/N’s.”

“That’s so cool, you guys are all in the same neighborhood.” she said, referring to you, Jeno and Jisung, “Well, Jaem and I are gonna get going. We’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“Do you guys need a lift?” Jaem asked, swinging his eyes around one finger while his other hand was interlocked with Hana’s, “I’m gonna take Hana home and then head back to Jenos.”

“I heard there was a Moomin Cafe in town and there’s still a few hours till it closes.” Renjun said and turned to you, “Care to join me? It’d be great to touch base on a few things.”

“I’d love to watch you weeb out for a few hours.” you said giggling, knowing your friends obsession with character, “There’s a few things I wanted to ask you as well actually.”

“Perfect, lets go then.” Renjun said,“It was nice meeting you all. We’ll see you all tomorrow.”

You gave the group a quick wave and Hana quickly hugged the two of you before you looked at Renjun and the two of you set off, with your arm looped through his.

A few hours later, you walked through your door deep in thought from your conversation with Renjun. The two of you discussed a lot in a short period of time, from a potential reunion with the rest of the cast of the Swan Lake to information regarding Yukhei.

Waving at Sicheng and Yuta(who you assumed would be a regular in the house now that Sicheng was back), who were currently digging into a piece of the chocolate cake you made the night before for Sichengs return, you made your way up to your room. Because you were so deep in thought, you literally screamed when you walked in and saw Jeno lying on your bed,hair pushed back, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose and reading a book.

“SORRY, I FORGOT TO TELL YOU HE CAME OVER.” Sicheng yelled from down the stairs, there was no apology in his voice.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, hand over your heart as you tried to calm your breathing.

“Jaemin decided to bring Hana over instead of taking her home and I wasn’t in the mood to listen to the conception of Baby Na.” he responded, looking at you from the corner of his eye, noting your concentrated look and your lack of reaction to his joke, “Everything okay? How was the cafe?”

“Everythings fine.” you said distractedly, putting your things away, “Renjuns a Moomin weeb so this was like a dream come true for him. It was nice to catch up since we really haven’t talked in months minus the odd text here and there.” you said, forcefully shaking your thoughts from your mind and paid attention to the person on your bed who was currently looking like he just walked out of Mens Athletic.

It was obvious he showered before he came over since his hair was still slightly damp and pushed back while he was dressed in black sweats and a white wife beater. It was a nice sight for the eyes.

“Are you planning on staying long?” you asked curiously and Jeno looked up from the book.

“Am I intruding?” he asked back and you shook your head.

“Of course not.” you said quickly, “I just wanted to know how many pieces of cake I had to bring up.”

“Three.” Jeno said holding up his fingers and giving you that reserved for special people eye smile, “The one you made a few days ago was so good and with Yuta downstairs, there probably won’t be any left in the morning.”

“True.” you said, grabbing a few things, “Be back in a bit. I’d tell you to make yourself at home but you seem to have done a good job at doing so already.” you snickered as Jeno waved, going back to the book from your shelf he had immersed himself in.

“Don’t be long.” he said, settling himself into your bed, “Do you want to watch a movie?”

“Sure.” you said looking behind you as you stepped out the door, “My laptops on my desk. The password hasn’t changed. If you still remember that is.”

Jeno looked up when he heard the bedroom door shut and marked the place in the book he was reading, before putting it down.He made his way over to your desk which was decorated with stationary and few pictures from the past and present.

The ones that stood out were from his fifth birthday party where he had a mouthful of cake and you had the happiest grins two five year olds could muster while “Say cheese!" was being yelled at you in four different directions.

There was another one where Jaemin and Jeno were at some beach and they had you lifted in their arms during a big family vacation that the three of you somehow managed to convince your parents to have after weeks of begging. Jeno remembered that day more than any other vacation memory since seconds after that photo was taken, you were thrown into the ocean. He remembered the grovelling he and Jaemin had to do since you decided to ignore the two for the rest of the day.. He chuckled to himself at the memory, remembering that despite the one hiccup, it was one of the best vacations he’d been on in his life.

Before he could press the power button on your laptop, a polaroid under your keyboard caught his attention and Jeno couldn’t help but feel his heart swell when he realized when it was from. It was a photo of the two of you that Jaemin took during a break between dance classes when you were in middle school.

The two of you were leaning against the mirror, Jeno’s arm wrapped around your shoulder while the two of you watched something on his phone. Your head was resting on his shoulder and he was resting on top of yours. He remembered Jaemin showing him the photo, telling him that this was when he knew the two of you were meant to be more than friends. Jeno brushed it off at the time, but he couldn’t help but think how right his friend was in this present moment.

He looked to side when he heard your phone buzz and a text from someone showed up on the screen.

[9:55pm] E.T - Think about it...It’ll be fun, just like the old times. I’ve got your back Princess~

Jeno’s lips formed a straight line at the text and was tempted to check the message himself. He had an assumption as to who this “E.T” person was and fought the jealousy that bubbled inside him. You and Renjun were friends and he had no right to feel this way, he didn’t know your friendship but he couldn’t help but let that fact bother him. Were you and Renjun closer then the two of you let on or was it just his paranoia?

A few minutes later, you walked in, freshly showered with a tray that consisted of cakes and hot chocolate along with a bowl of marshmallows, a big satisfied smile on your face.

“I took like a quarter of the cake and I think Yuta growled at me.” you said placing the tray on your desk before picking up your phone and reading Renjun’s message and responding, making Jeno question what you said since you rolled your eyes.

“Yuta is aware that you’re the only one who can cook in this house right?” Jeno asked, taking the cake from your outstretched hand, his face in pure bliss after taking a bite, “You can always give his portions to me you know. Now that my parents aren’t here, I think I’m gonna starve.”

“Isn’t that the reason why Jaemin is staying with you? So you won't starve?” you asked with a lifted eyebrow, knowing that his parents had just left to meet with your parents somewhere in Europe.

It was a blessing and a curse that your parents enjoyed travelling, it meant that you and Jeno had grown up travelling together during the holidays and you always had someone to experience new things with. It may have been the main reason why your friendship with Jeno had maintained its strength during your transition from children to preteens despite the differences in personalities.

“With the amount of time he spends with Hana, I probably will.” Jeno snorted moving slightly when you settled next to him on the bed, “Did you know that he’s serious about her?”

“Good” you said, taking a bite of your chocolate cake, doing a little dance when you felt the velvety texture of the frosting on your tongue, “Cause from how our talks are going, she feels the same.”

“Ah…Young love...” Jeno sighed, leaning back thinking about his two friends before his eyes caught a small album on your bedside table that hadn’t been there before, “What’s that?”

Following his gaze, your eyes landed on the album and Jeno saw the excitement in your eyes and you put down your plate to reach for it.

“I found this while I was cleaning my room a few days ago.” you said handing him the medium sized album that contained so many memories, “I’ve been waiting for you to come over to show you.”

Jeno opened the album and was greeted by a sense of strong nostalgia. It’s contents familiar but distant memories of your combined family travels. They lasted from when the two of you were three to about the age of thirteen, where dance became more important and you were both enrolled in your respective summer programs and the year after you left for Europe.

“I can’t believe you still have these photos.” he said, slowly flipping through each page, chuckling to himself at certain photos that caught his eye “This is like a decades worth of history.”

“I couldn’t believe it either.” you said, resting your head on his shoulder so you could look at the photos too, “It made me think of all the carefree days we had. It sucks that we only went to tropical destinations. I think I would’ve liked Europe as a child.”

“Did you travel a lot while you were abroad?” Jeno asked, still looking through the photos and felt you nod against his shoulder.

“Renjun and I did a lot of that during the small breaks we had when we realized that we could actually tolerate each other” you said, looking through your phone for a specific picture, “We would travel to different places by train and spend a few days exploring. Depending on the holiday, our trips lasted several days to several weeks.”

“Just the two of you?” he asked, looking down at you from the corner of his eye, frowning at the sound of the China Princes name once more.

“Mhm.” you said and smiled when you found the photo you were looking for, “Chenle, Sicheng and Hana joined us once during winter break and we spent two weeks in Germany before we met my parents in England for Christmas. Outside of that one time, it was just Renjun and I. A travelling photographer passed our cabin while we were headed to Paris to watch Swan Lake and asked Renjun if he could take a picture and told us to hold the pose. It's still my favorite to this day..”

You flipped your phone around and showed Jeno the picture on your phone where you and Renjun were seated in a cabin on a train. The two of you must’ve been on your way to some sort of event since you were both dressed in semi-formal wear. You were wearing a long sleeved emerald dress and black tights and black boot heels. Your head was resting in your hand and you were looking out the window. Renjun, who was wearing a dress shirt and vest, was looking at you with what to Jeno looked like admiration? Adoration? Passion? A sketch book rested on the table and Renjuns hand was in mid sketch. Had you known that he was sketching you at the time?

He thought the long sleeved dress was different but brought out the more mature aspects of your figure with how it hugged you in all the right places and made your legs look longer. The beret that rested on your head while your wavy hair was thrown over one shoulder completed the look and Jeno decided that he liked seeing you in hats.

His eyes narrowed when he realized that the drawing in Renjuns sketchbook looked familiar and he looked at a painting that you recently hung up.

“Is that painting of you?” he asked and saw the wistful smile on your face.

“Yea...Renjun enjoys doing art in his free time and painted that for me after our fifth trip together. The photo itself was taken only during our first trip but he worked on it for quite some time after that. He told me that he’d been looking for a muse for a while and all the travelling did it for him. I was floored when he gave me the painting, I think I cried a bit too..” you said thinking back to your travels with your best friend from abroad.

“There was always something missing though…” you muttered quietly and Jeno almost didn’t hear you.

“What’s that?” he asked, eyes still on the painting and wondered what it would be like to travel the world with you now that you were older.

“You.” you whispered looking down, “I guess a part of me always wondered what you’d think of the places I’ve gone and what it’d be like to experience what I did with you.”

A smile made its way to Jenos face as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you snug against him and trapped you in his arms. He was glad your head was on his shoulder since it was easier to hide his blush this way. He was giddy to know that you often thought of him during your travels and even though someone else was your travel companion, he was still on your mind.

“One day,” Jeno promised, “We’ll go together and you can show me all your favorite spots you’ve been to. We can even take a summer and travel Europe by train if you want. I think that’s what our parents are meeting up to do. I saw them plan the trip and heard them talk to your parents over the phone about it. Seems like a lot of fun.”

You looked up at Jeno wide eyed, had he really just promised that he’d travel all of Europe with you? Why was he saying things like this so loosely? Did he know that when he acted so nonchalant but sweet like this, it made the butterflies in your stomach flutter?

“Y-You want to travel with me?” you managed to stutter out and he gave you a look with furrowed brows.

“Of course. You’re the only travel buddy I had for most of my life and we have five years to catch up on. I wouldn’t want to experience those things with anyone else.” he said confidently, looking down at you, moving his arms to wrap around your waist and you felt him play with your fingers when your hands met his, “A trip with just the two of us.”

“A trip with just the two of us.” you agreed quietly, settling into Jenos embrace and felt his arms tighten around you, the chocolate cake forgotten as your eyes drifted close.

You weren’t sure what was happening with your friendship. These nights had become a thing after you had woken up completely jet lagged and Jeno had so happen to be coming back from a late night bathroom run. He’d seen your light on and texted you to see if you were alright since you were in the house alone.

When you told him that you couldn’t sleep, he had come over and the two of you spent hours watching Netflix; thankfully for the two of you it had been a weekend.

After that, Jeno came over whenever he was bored, he even helped you clean the house when Sicheng said he was coming back. You constantly wondered why he’d spend time with you when he could be out with Jisung or Jaemin; though Jisung spent a lot of time playing video games at your house just as much as Jeno did. He just said that he was lazy to socialize which totally didn’t make sense since he could be a social butterfly around the right people.

You just knew that over the short time you spent together, your heart would beat faster whenever he was around at school and now you were partnered for the project so spending time together was inevitable.

Little did you know, Jeno was working hard to show you that he was serious about you and you only. He just hoped that whatever he had planned didn’t backfire, especially with the arrival of one Huang Renjun.

#nct imagine #nct #nct dream imagine #nct dream #lee jeno #jeno #jisung #jaemin #kpop #kpop scenario #kpop imagine #nct scenario #nct fiction #nct dream fiction #nct dream scenario #jeno imagine #jeno fiction #jeno scenario

22 notes · View notes

kwrittink · 5 years

Text

Wrong - ABISM

Pairing: F!Reader x AdoptedBrother!Jungkook

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Warnings: language, a tiny bit of belittling

It had been two- no, three - years since you last saw him. Your brother... If you could even call him that. No visits, no calls, not even a letter. He'd be completely out of your life, wasn't for his inevitable successful life, which caused people to talk about him once in a while, not aware of your past. Why would you even tell people you once were Jeon - after he took back his real name and career as the famous missing heir of the family's huge company - JungKook's relative when by that point you were nothing more than a complete stranger?

"Y/N, is the sketch finished already? Boss Min has been waiting for it since you arrived," Mou, secretary of said boss - your boss, precisely - asked, walking up to you and snatching your attention back to reality, the screen of the tablet showcasing an ad of some beauty product under Jeon's name. That's why your mind was wandering off.

"I have the final version already, I'm just waiting for TaeH-"

"I'm here, I'm here!" Kim TaeHyung, TI trainee and probably the best boy you've ever met in your entire life came rushing in, almost knocking stressed Mou out of his way, the art printed into a small poster. "Our printers were all malfunctioning, so I had to go to the copy place- Hope I'm not too late," he breathed out finally, strands of hair glued to his forehead as he tried to catch his breath. You chuckled at him, grabbing the page with one hand and patting the top of his slightly bowed head as you stood up.

"Don't worry, you were just doing me a favor, Tae. I'll pay you a coffee later, 'kay?" You reassured the newbie, then made your way towards your boss' office, happy that the whole printout was exactly the way you imagined it would be. Those sleepless nights wouldn't be wasted, it seemed.

"You know, sometimes it's a little painful to watch him," Mou started, by your side. You had barely noticed she was walking with you and snapped your head towards her startled, what she might have read as a confused look. "The new intern. TaeHyung, I mean."

"What about him?" You asked, now truthfully confused. Mou scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"I'm sure you're not that blind, Y/N... The boy obviously has a crush on you." She whispered, giggling as your eyes widened in surprise.

"Wait TaeHyung? No, he's just really nice. And I'm his mentor, he just wants to please." You waved it off, shaking your head in dismissal. There was no way that a guy like Kim TaeHyung was interested in you. He was really nice to you, but obviously, he was still a youngster, if the gossip was any indication.

Mou snickered, pushing the black glass door that separated the firm's director Min YoonGi from the rest of the world. "Whatever you say then. But keep that in mind when you have your coffee with him today." She advised, and it was your turn to roll your eyes at her before she announced your arrival.

Min YoonGi was someone really easy to deal with, once you did your job. The meeting was short, he had really liked your work and even had asked you to help in the presentation the company would have to the hirer - which meant he wanted you to talk about it. It was good to know your job was recognized, but you've been working hard for a while and was about to ask for a break before you collapsed. Sigh. Maybe after the deal was made.

"Hey, you don't seem so well," a voice came from your right, a small box of doughnut holes from that famous bakery on the building's street appearing into your sight. A smile was immediately plastered on your lips when you turned your face and met the dimpled cheeks of Kim NamJoon - not blood related to earlier mentioned Kim Taehyung -, thick glasses hiding his eye smile.

"You're water for the thirsty men sir," you sighed, picking one treat from the box and practically moaning at the simple yet tasteful ball of happiness. "Also, I can't believe you went to Jin's without me!"

"If you had answered my texts you'd know I was going," he quipped back, shrugging teasingly. You squinted at him, grabbing your phone and seeing that, for it was on silent the whole weekend you had let slip NamJoon's invite for this morning. Tsking, you put it away, snatching the box from his hands.

"Not an excuse mister, you have full access to my house," you countered, and he had the nerve to look coy, looking away in defeat. But in that motion you were able to see the badly hidden hickey painted on the side of his neck, giving you an idea why he didn't invade your apartment that morning. You'd tease him for that later, after figuring out who he had a date with.

"Anyway, be glad there's still some left, I ate most of it on my way here, I was starving,"

"I know you since we were children, you owe me this." Yes. Kim NamJoon, head of TI and the clumsiest guy to walk on earth was your childhood best friend and the only one in your current circle that knew about your past. Even more, JungKook used to admire NamJoon from a young age, and though you two were glued at the hip since even before your brother joined the family, JungKook warmed up pretty well to him. But when JungKook left, he had cut all ties with everyone from his past, embracing the new life presented to him, and leaving an equally devastated NamJoon missing a younger brother. That you couldn't forgive him for.

You got back to your desk, followed by NamJoon that was still after the doughnut holes even after having half a portion. He was stressed with the end of the month, where deadlines piled up and everyone was at each other's throats to get stuff done. You couldn't do much to ease his burden, too piled with your own work to try and help him with his. Besides, you were shit at programming.

"Oh I knew I smelled something familiar- Wait, you went to that patisserie down the street?" A cheerful face peeked from the other cubicle and revealed a handsome man eyeing your food. You quirked an eyebrow at Jung Hoseok, one of your other co-workers and part of said circle of friends. Not that you had that many people you truly enjoy talking to but you liked to live by the company's motto: quality is better than quantity. And that was also why the number of employees was so much less than others in the same area because Min YoonGi liked to hire only the best ones - and because he didn't want to waste time firing people later, you were aware.

For example, Jung Hoseok was an amazing designer, perfectionist and hard-working, even if he looked aloof and happy-go-lucky most of the time. But there was a reason for that, and because he expected from himself only the best, Hoseok - or Hobi, how he was called endearingly - also expected near perfection from his colleagues.

Unconsciously he had put himself in charge of keeping everyone in the line. And if anyone thought he wouldn't impose respect with his light demeanor, better change their mind quickly. The man was sharp and ruthless when disappointed, flipping his entire mood in a matter of seconds. It wasn't a point of him being bipolar or anything, he was just the type of parental figure that you wanted to only be on his good side.

"Not me, NamJoon fetched those before arriving at work. Want one?" Extending the bag at him, you saw how Hobi's eyes twinkled as he fetched a couple of sweets from the bag and chuckled to yourself, thinking he was cute, even if a couple of years older than you.

"Thanks, man I really needed this- Wow that's a hickey, if I've ever seen one," Hoseok was quick to notice as he turned to NamJoon, voice getting louder as he couldn't get a hold of his surprise. Your best friend's eyes widened greatly, apparently not aware that either the bruise was showing or that it was there at all while pulling his collar up. "Sorry dude, I couldn't help it, just... Sorry." Hoseok winced again, retreating to his desk while NamJoon glanced around in a panic to access who had heard the announcement. Apparently no one, but the crew had a sharp ear, you were aware. You just hoped Mou - who had a massive crush on him since he joined but never had the courage to tell him - hadn't heard it too.

Sighing, you got up your chair, grabbing NamJoon's hand and your purse in the other, meeting his lost puppy eyes. "C'mon, I'll fix this up. But you owe me an explanation, mister." You demanded while dragging him to the unisex room.

Your only regret was leaving the doughnut holes on top of your table, easy prey for all the wolves in the section.

The meeting was first thing in the morning, so you arrived an hour earlier to avoid any accidents and had a spare outfit in your bag if anything - NamJoon and his clumsy ass - were to happened to the cute but professional outdo you had put together so carefully. Mou was the first to greet you in the morning, her smile not quite reaching her eyes - maybe she had heard Hoseok's outburst the day before after all - as she handed you a cup with coffee and the keys to the meeting room.

You sighed. It was a tiring job the one you had, but it was at the same time fulfilling and well-paid. Min Yoongi was strict as he did expect everyone to work hard, but he was extremely fair when it came to paychecks. Every single extra thing the employees did was taken into account and correctly inserted into your account - including that one presentation you were to do for him.

"You're early today huh?" As if by summoning, a sleepy toned voice echoed through the room while you arranged your things - jolt of surprise barely concealed, and you could hear his quiet snicker when he noticed - and Min YoonGi entered the room. "Wouldn't expect any less of you."

You turned to him with a small smile, acknowledging his compliment, and waiting for what he had to say. YoonGi wouldn't show up before the meeting for no reason at all, you were aware. "So, I'm sure you read about our employers and are well-prepared for this but," He started, and suddenly your blood started to run cold. But? That's never good. He's going to make my life difficult, I feel it!

"The thing is, that company was recently bought by another one - don't look so scared, nothing has changed technically - and now you're going to be meeting the new owners, so just wanted to give you a heads up." The way he spoke was clearly as if he was casually mentioning that he had coffee in the morning and had an easy trip to the job today, but his words still couldn't avoid your internal panicking. Still, you nodded, swallowing the nervous lump in your throat, because you were a good designer, but could handle so much pressure. At least the whole ordeal wouldn't be changed. You breathed out.

"Okay boss, I'll handle this to the best of my abilities," you assured him, trying to put a brave face to the man that had hired you but was usually treating you like a sister/daughter he kept at arm's length. Even the satisfying glint of his eyes wasn't unnoticed by you, a sign of trust in your words.

"Good. Now, they have arrived earlier than expected, you think we can start or should make them stick to the schedule?" At that point Min YoonGi was definitely taunting you, corner of his mouth twitching slightly with undisclosed humor. You rolled your eyes.

"Send them in, I'm ready." Was what you answered, but minutes later you would regret that sentence immensely. Maybe you should have trusted your gut for once, as it told you that something was not right the moment your boss stepped outside the meeting room to get the new employers.

Because your smile faltered upon seeing that the man following your boss back inside was no less than - and that for some reason wasn't unexpected - Jeon JungKook.

So this is the layout we had and the whole process our team worked on with the previous employer - Mr. Park right here can confirm," you smiled warmly at the man who was accompanying the new owner for the meeting, glad of his reassuring and soothing presence. "But we are completely open to discussion and suggestions if the idea isn't to Mr. Jeon's interest." You tried to keep smiling as you glanced at the man who once had been part of your family now standing at the other side of the table with a completely unreadable expression while glaring at you.

"Well, I think we don't think that much different right?" Park Jimin, later owner - now co-owner of the 'ARMY' clothing line - nudged JungKook's arm to snap him back from staring at you so blatantly. YoonGi cleared his throat softly by the end of the table.

"Yes, we'll discuss some more of this project in the future, but for now it's fine," he said, and you had to restrain from quirking at eyebrow at him, though you could feel droplets of sweat trickling down your neck. Fine? "Next time though, I'd like to hold a meeting on my grounds, if that's okay with you?" And then he fucking turned to your boss, as if you weren't the one busting your ass in the last half hour explaining a project almost set to happen all over again.

"I think you should ask Miss Y/L/N, she's the one responsible for this," JiMin piped up again, and you were so glad he did, but not as how that forced the arrogant face of that other man to look back at you as if he was too tired to repeat his question.

"Won't be a problem, sir. We'll-"

"We? Weren't you the head of this project alone?" A frown creased deep between JungKook's eyebrows, as he looked down to his phone - probably checking his schedule -, already up and ready to leave. JiMin got up as well, seems to be confused by his partner's behavior, and you bit the side of your cheek in anger.

"Of course Miss Y/L/N is the prime creator of this whole entrepreneur," this time it was Min YoonGi's time to sprout into the conversation, and you were thankful he did before you said something insolent. "But to avoid being persuaded for any side whatsoever, she will be taking one from the team with her to the meeting - having in mind that Mr. JiMin will also be attending to keep it balanced."

For some reason, it looked like Jeon was taken by surprise, for his eyes widened for a moment before glancing at your boss. He wouldn't think we'd meet completely alone now, would he?

"Right, exactly. Mr. Park and I will be the only ones present, so it's only fair. I shall then talk to your secretary? I have a few days available."

"N-no JungKook, I think this you'll have to discuss with Miss Y/N, she's the one that's going to meet us there..." And just like that JungKook seemed to have lost his pose of nonchalant, seeming exasperated to leave the room but needing to face you one more time before doing so.

"Next Tuesday at 8 am at the north building?" What was he trying to do, set a romantic date or a professional one? Because either the case, he was failing miserably. You grabbed your mobile from the table, expression still stern and serene.

"I'll put it on the schedule. It's okay with you if I take Kim TaeHyung with me, boss?" You slightly turned to the man that looked as amused as someone would be while watching a drama unfold. He was only missing a snack.

"Sure, though he's a trainee..." The little squint your boss gave you was enough to tell you he was onto something about this whole thing - and if you could bet, you'd say he was thinking of something along the lines of ex-lovers or some other cheesy crap he secretly loved so much.

Thought it was much, much more complicated than that.

"It's good for him to learn on the job, plus his skills will help me, I'm sure." You explained, receiving a shrug in response from your boss. That was that then.

"We're all set then, I'm glad!" Park JiMin chirped, extending his hand at you. "It was really nice seeing you again Miss. Y/N, keep a great job!" He complimented after you shook his hand back with a small bow and a smile. Jeon's hand also appeared in front of you, for grasping.

"Till we meet again, Miss. Y/L/N." He said as you did the same to him, after a beat of hesitancy. It was somehow hurtful the way he said your family name in such an easy, detached way. As if he never was under it in the past, for so many years.

And it was in that way you realized the abysm between the two of you, the gap that separated your worlds definitely and clearly. He was no one to you, and you were no one to him.

________________________ masterlist

#wrong!jungkook #bts jeon jungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader

47 notes · View notes

birdycurtains · 4 years

Note

What about Tony being an old school horror director who feels like he’s about to be upstaged by Peter, a new horror director - think Blumhouse - and Tony, never having met him, both hates and fears him, until he bumps into him at a movie theater and hit it off until Peter introduces himself -des

this inspired me beyond belief, i have no idea why. i don’t think this was the direction you intended, but once i started i couldn’t stop haha. - birdy

He Calls Him Anthony

wordcount: 2,357

Friday nights were sacred. They were nights centered around going to see old movies at the IFC, and there was never to be a schedule conflict. Because that was one of the three nights he was awarded for seeing his daughter a week.

And he would die before he didn’t take Morgan to see a truly good movie every Friday night.

This night was Sunset Boulevard, he did always enjoy a good Wilder film, as did Morgan. Her twelve year-old self had mastered the art of the Norma Desmond gaze.

But here was Peter Fucking Parker, waltzing out of a showing down the hall.

Morgan blearily leant into her dad's side as he attempted to speedily walk out of Parker’s field of vision.

It wasn’t that he hated Peter Parker, well maybe he did just a little.

He was once that fresh face on the scene, basking in the limelight, being the true face of modern horror.

But now his takes weren’t exactly fresh, and what the younger audiences were looking for. They wanted a twisted gore, with just this side of odd comic relief, that Parker had perfected while Pepper was serving Tony divorce papers.

So maybe he was envious, maybe he was just tired of everytime he attended a premier, or so much as breathed in the direction of the media, he was hounded with questions of what exactly did he think about Peter Parker?

In the beginning, he didn’t care or think much. But as trailer after trailer was put out, the movies being produced at a rapid rate while maintaining or increasing their following, even Morgan was asking her father if they could rent this, or if they could go to the cinema to see that.

And maybe he caved once, and with a hoodie, and sunglasses, a hat. For good measure of course. He went and saw one. With Morgan, because she insisted, and who was he to deprive her.

It was good. And he resented Peter Parker for the same craft he held a torch for.

So here was Peter Parker, coming out of Casablanca. And making a bee-line towards him.

“Mr Stark! Mr. Stark! Mr. Stark?”

God damn it.

Tony willed his body to face the younger man. Morgan follows in suit, her eyes widening in realization, and proceeding to prod her elbow directly into her father’s side.

“Mr. Parker, well, nice to see you.”

Tony could play nice, put on his ‘customer service’ voice, and act chummy with Peter Parker.

Although, the in-person Parker didn’t exactly match what he imagined.

This one wore thread-bare jeans, and converse that had seen better days, three years ago.

He didn’t match the one he had seen plastered over last month's vanity fair, the pictures that had circulated his time-line a little more than his liking.

They ran in the same circles, it wasn’t like he was actively looking for him.

“Gosh, Mr. Stark, it’s an honor to meet you really. Please, call me Peter.”

He was like a chihuahua that took a five-hour-energy-shot.

His handshake was firm, and he slipped his glasses back up his nose as he collected himself.

“I’m sorry for bothering you, but I thought I had seen you here before, I come here all the time y’know, every time they have a Rocky Horror showing, I’ve got tickets.”

It was easy to catch that he was a New York native, unlike Tony himself. His Queens drawl interweaving between vowels and catching on to his r’s. It was rather cute, and personable.

Did he just- Tony called him cute. Christ.

“My daughter and I like the classics.” He put simply smoothing down Morgan’s unruly strands.

“Yeah, me too. I’m usually knee deep in everything going on right now, that to just enjoy the good ol’ stuff-”

He gave a dramatic sigh of pleasure, Tony felt his ears turn red.

“That’s everything man. You would know of course. God, of course you know- I mean”

The younger man cut himself short as he realized he was gripping Tony’s shoulder, his face and neck flushing red.

“I’m sorry- I’m probably taking up your family time. But, we should totally get together. Like talk shop or whatever?”

Peter flashed him the brightest smile, he swore the dim hallway was a little brighter.

“Yeah.”

The man was gone with a friendly wave as he jogged back to a small group of people, probably his friends, towards the exit.

Tony looked down at the ground and focused on his hand that hung limply by his side. On it was a chicken scratch phone number.

Peter had written down his phone number. On Tony’s hand.

And he hadn’t even noticed.

A few days later, Tony decides to grow a pair. He types the number into his phone, makes an individual contact for a Mr. Peter Parker.

He never thought this day would come. And he’s not sure the exact connotation behind that thought.

Does he call? Does he text?

In all honesty it has been a minute since he attempted friendship, or even communication outside of his usual social circle.

Things had never been like this when he and Rhodey had initially become friends. Even the rest of his band of misfits had just happened naturally, never really taking this much preamble communication.

He texts.

They decide to meet at a small cafe around the NYU campus. Peter had said the place was quiet and usually uncrowded, one of his favorites.

Going against his gut, he trusts Peter and agrees.

Now here he is, looking presentable for the public eye, it’s a Monday. He’s just dropped off Morgan at school, and here he is. At another school.

“Anthony!”

He winces just the slightest, and is met with the vision that is Peter Parker at eight a.m. on a Monday morning. For someone so heavily criticized and praised in the public-eye, appearances must be everything on some level for the man. He doesn’t exactly aim to disappoint.

He looks so effortlessly cozy, dolled up in his black turtleneck and rust orange suede jacket, and those same glasses from the week prior perched against his brow bone. His hair looks soft, and his eyes are warm.

“Mr. Parker.”

That’s good. Set some boundaries, before you directly tell him he looks soft.

“I told you.” Peter sighs wistfully, wrapping his hands around a deep mug of hot chocolate?

He looks up again with the same kindness and warmth.

“Call me Peter.”

He invited him to dinner.

He doesn’t exactly know how it happened. It was somewhere between talking about how Peter had wound up picking up where his uncle left off, and how working as a barista in the cafe they were sitting in was Peter’s favorite job during college.

He could imagine a littler Peter, running around behind the counter making drinks and warming up scones. His open textbook to the left of the register, just like he described.

It made a fluttering in his chest somewhere, to know a personal and small detail of the Peter Parker.

Not in a, I’m a huge fan of the Peter Parker.

But, in a, this kind young man, I am having the privilege of getting to know, kind of way.

The point is he invited him to dinner, at this high-end steak house he’s familiar with. A reservation for eight.

It’s eight forty-five, and he’s on his second glass of red wine, Peter’s on his third.

Things are comfortably warm, they’re talking about Tony’s first movie, and how much of a shitshow it was, but the critics loved it.

The steak is amazing, they order dessert.

And he doesn’t budge or comment when Peter hooks his foot around his own. He only smiles softly, and watches Peter’s curious eyes watch as he brings a piece of poached pear to his mouth.

He hails Peter a cab at the end of the night, and Peter thanks him for dinner.

He calls him Anthony, once again.

Peter calls him this time.

It’s in the late hours of the night, and Tony, never really one for sleeping through the night anyway, has a lapful of script he’s reviewing, making sure it fits his artistic vision and what-not.

His voice is rough around the edges, a haze of sleep almost.

Tony wonders what it sounds like in person. If he were in bed next to him, or with him. Maybe with a lapful of Peter Parker, and not dialogue bleeding into his iris’.

He invites Tony over for Thursday night.

Peter knows the custodial schedule. That should mean something right?

He texts him an address later in the day. It’s in the Upper East Side, not too far from him, it’s in a cozy neighborhood of brownstones.

Very Peter Parker.

Tony, will never understand Rocky Horror.

Peter had invited him when he arrived a little late, just five minutes, but he could see the worry drip off his shoulders as he greeted him at the door.

His home was a beautiful thing, filled to the brim with the most eclectic vintage interior, but it somehow matched.

He had learned from their meeting at the cafe, that Peter’s aunt owned a store that specialized in all things vintage and antique. It hadn’t surprised him to see it rubbed off on him.

In the downstairs parlor, it was decorated with dozens of Peter’s movie posters. Some were beta’s that Peter and an artist had worked on together. Peter flushed when he caught him staring.

Tony would never get used to the fact that this Peter Parker was shy and not open about his work in his personal life, he liked to keep things very separate.

He watched him put together a heaping bowl of kettle corn and followed him up a winding staircase, Peter remarked it was his favorite thing about the house.

He told him they were watching Rocky Horror Picture Show.

Tony had never seen it in his entire life, he knew the cult following it had, but he couldn’t piece together that this is something Peter loved so much, but was so different from the direction he took with his work.

He only smiled and agreed and saddled up with Peter on the pink floral couch.

They’d never done this before, but it felt so familiar, like they had been through this scenario a dozen times, and it was just natural to lean into each other and fumble for the sugary popcorn between them.

It was around the scene when Frank N Furter was doing the backstroke with the rest of the cast in the swimming pool, that Tony realized their closeness.

How he had his arm wrapped around Peter, and Peter had just melted into his side.

The younger man must’ve felt the pressure of Tony’s gaze burning into the side of his face, since he turned his head to face him.

It was all very cliche in this sense.

A romantic scene directed and scripted and cast.

Except the love interests were him and Peter.

Peter kissed him first. That’s all he can clearly recall, the seconds prior being a blur of ‘is this actually happening’ to ‘it’s actually happening, do something’.

Finally the cognitive gears in his brain rekindle their function, and his lips are moving against Peter’s. He’s so warm and soft, he tastes like cinnamon sugar.

Peter’s hands are grounding against his chest, holding him to reality, in any other case he would’ve drifted off somewhere because he has to be dreaming.

But this is real. And Peter’s real.

And, oh no.

Tony gently pulls away from Peter’s grasp, and takes a breath. And Peter’s got this smile on his face like he won the grand prize at a carnival game.

“Peter- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. This is not going to happen.”

The smile falls faster on Peter’s face than the pit in his stomach.

There’s something hurt and cold in his eyes. The warmth is gone, and the guilt gnaws at Tony as he flees the Parker residence.

It’s been two weeks since the Rocky Horror incident.

Peter’s texted, and called. He believes he’s got Anthony all figured out.

To be truthful he does.

He had called Anthony out on his behavior six days ago, and hasn’t sent another message since.

Peter left a voicemail stating that Anthony wasn’t going to let himself enjoy something without finding an excuse for why he can’t. Peter wants this, and Anthony wants this, then that is all that matters. He is going to be filming at this location for the next two weeks, he can make his peace by showing up or not.

Tony stared at the message for ten minutes before Morgan told him to go get Peter.

She knew.

She always knows.

When Tony saw Peter again he was rushing past people ushering him to stop.

But Tony was on a mission, he felt like one of his main characters in the final leg of the movie, finally making it out alive, and this was the final call, where he would live to the credits, or the antagonist would leave no survivors.

Peter was beautiful.

Even if he did look like Prom Queen Carrie at the moment.

His hands and clothes were covered in fake blood, helping arrange the set to a T.

When Peter looked up at him, he knew he would make it to the credits.

His boy ran at him and swallowed him in his warmth.

It was a pining, longing, and apologetic kiss, with bloody hands cradling Tony’s face.

“You’re dumb, and you hurt my feelings Anthony.” Peter whispered as he pulled away.

“I’m sorry.” He replies, his eyes watery, insecurity wrung out like a rag, he wanted Peter and Peter wanted him. He chanted it a million times into the crook of Peter’s neck, just holding him.

Peter pulled away and held him by his shoulders “It’s okay Anthony.”

He smiled that big beautiful warm smile of his, and pushed him away.

“Now. Get off my set. I’ll see you at nine, bring Morgan, they’re playing Psycho tonight.”

#birdycurtainswrites #starker #tony stark x peter parker #tony x peter #prompt me #directors au

17 notes · View notes

trainwreckedconductor · 5 years

Text

🎞️ Writing the Love Story 🎞️

Dead Bird Studio... One of the biggest crown-jewels of the city. Even though she’d been visiting the studio for a while, it still always blew Scarlet’s mind whenever she stood at its entrance. When she’d started her career as a graphics designer, she never once imagined herself in the position she was in now. It was crazy enough to think that she’d be designing posters for a famous director, but to think that she’d be dating that same director... While nothing made her happier in this relationship, it was still a bit crazy for her to wrap her head around it when she really sat down and thought on the relationship.

She’d found it so funny how differently she saw her relationship with the Conductor of the Owl Express, at least compared to all of the onlookers. To her, he was just a bird that she could talk to casually without a care in the world, someone she could confide in when things got rough, someone she could cuddle up close to when she felt lonely. To everyone else, he was a famous celebrity whom they believed deserved a life of glitz and glamour, and nothing less. In the beginning, it had taken some time getting used to going out in public. As his popularity grew, so did his fanbase, which meant more rabid fans trying to get into Scarlet’s head, either by trying to wring her of her partner’s secrets or to shame her for not being who they pictured his ideal mate to be.

It had been a bit of culture shock, but the Conductor had been there throughout it all to help her through the rough spots. He’d helped her to stand tall and never let others push her around. Not that she’d been timid before, but she’d always found it hard to say no to people or deny them what they wanted. That made it especially hard when his popularity started to skyrocket and the fans started coming after her. The Conductor helped her to learn that it was okay to say “no” to people. There was no way she would be able to please every person that walked her way. Above all else, it was important that she make herself happy before trying to please others, and that she was the only one who could define her own self-worth. With every day spent by his side, Scarlet could feel her confidence not just as an artist, but as a person grow. It was how she could bring herself to confidently walk into Dead Bird Studio to work--and to see her boyfriend she loved so dearly.

However, there was one small hiccup that made her a bit nervous to enter the studio today... The past several days, the Conductor had started to act strangely around her. He’d gone from his usual boisterous personality to constantly being distracted and spacing out at random times. He continually insisted that he was fine, that it was only stress getting to him, but that didn’t stop Scarlet from worrying. She’d hoped that eventually he’d confess to what had been bothering him as of late, but as the week progressed, he never did. Now that she’d been invited to see the preview for his next movie and sketch up some mock poster ideas for them, it was a good opportunity to see if he’d been acting just as bizarrely at work, or if this was something that only seemed to happen at home.

With a deep breath, the snowy-white owl clutched the sketchbook in her hands. She wasn’t going to get any answers by standing at the door. Plus the other owls would begin to worry if she didn’t show up. Holding her head up high, she walked through the doors and into the studio’s reception area.

“Oh hey, Scarlet.” As she walked in, the receptionist at the front desk greeted the snow-white owl with a nod. “Glad to see you could make it.”

“Hello, Sir.” Scarlet walked up to the front counter. “I’m here to work on the poster for the movie they’re shooting.”

“Yeah, the Conductor already told me you were coming today.”

“That doesn’t surprise me.” She giggled. Any time she had a scheduled visit, the Conductor made sure everyone knew about it. “If you’re fine with it, I’ll just go head back there--”

“Actually, I’m afraid I can’t let you go back just yet.”

Scarlet stopped mid-turn when the receptionist had told her that. She looked to the owl with wide eyes. “I... beg your pardon?”

“I don’t mean that as anything offensive, miss. They’re just orders.” The receptionist began reaching for the phone at the desk.

“Orders?” Scarlet was perplexed, clenching her sketchbook anxiously. “What do you mean?”

“The Conductor told me that I wasn’t allowed to let you back when you got here.” He stroked his chin with his other wing. “He insisted that he needed to personally escort you back to the projection room today, and that I was to call him once you got to the studio.”

“He... did?” That was really bizarre. He never made her wait in the lobby. She’d always been allowed to show herself to the back rooms. What was even stranger was that he never mentioned a word of this to her. Why would he have left out such an important detail? It’s not like he didn’t have a chance to tell her--they lived together, for goodness’ sake!

Scarlet’s inner-ramblings were interrupted by a loud voice coming over the phone receiver. Even though the receptionist was the one on the phone, anyone could have heard the Conductor’s voice blasting through it. She couldn’t make out any words, but there was no mistaking that it was him, and that he was likely mid-rant when the phone had started ringing. It took a moment, but when the raving stopped coming out of the receiver, the receptionist finally spoke. “Scarlet’s here.”

In an instant, the Conductor’s demeanor took a one-eighty. His voice had died down to about half its original volume, filled with pleased inflections and rushed urgency as he muttered something indistinguishable to the eavesdropping Scarlet. “Okay.” The receptionist hung up the phone. “Conductor says he’ll be out in a minute. He’s gotta finish up the scene he’s on.”

“That’s okay. I don’t mind waiting.” She lied. Normally she wouldn’t have minded, but given the way she’d been restricted from entering the studio made her heart race. Was everything okay? He’d already been acting strange at home, but now this? What in the world was going on? She wanted to find out sooner rather than later...

“Hey, Scarlet!” Off to the side, two owls came up to greet the woman at the desk. “Good to see you!”

Hearing her name getting called out, Scarlet turned to the voices and smiled softly at the two birds. What a relief--two actors she’d gotten acquainted with during her previous trips to the studio. They’ll be able to distract her for a bit, she thought. “Robin! Jay! It’s so good to see you two.” Scarlet met them halfway.

“I almost forgot you were coming to the studio today.” The left owl, Robin, chimed in. “You’re here to design the poster for the new movie, aren’t you?”

“Yup.” With a beaming grin, Scarlet raised up the sketchbook in her hand. “I’ve come fully prepared.”

Both owls gave a chuckle. “We won’t keep you, then.” The right owl, Jay, commented. “Heaven knows the Conductor would have our heads for holding you up when you’re here for work.”

“Oh don’t worry, you boys are fine.” She scratched her cheek nervously. “Actually I’m out here waiting for him, so you two aren’t keeping me.”

“Really?” Jay folded his arms. “That’s odd. Doesn’t he usually just have you come in?”

“Usually, but the Receptionist told me he was coming out to here and told me to wait for him.”

There was a silence from the other two, Jay and Robin exchanging nervous glances to each other. That wasn’t good. When they turned back to look at her, her words only made her heart drop further. “Hey, Scarlet? Has the Conductor been acting weird outside of work?”

Scarlet frowned, glancing away. So he’d been acting strange at the studio, too. “He’s been a little stressed lately, if that’s what you mean.”

“So it’s not just here that he’s acting weird...” Robin mused. “He’s been really spacey lately. It started up about a week ago, but lately he’s just been zoning out during shoots and whatnot.”

Scarlet nodded, knowing exactly what they were about to ask next. “Yeah, he’s been the same at home.” She pulled her sketchbook to her chest. “It’s weird, he doesn’t usually get stressed out until the movie awards are close.”

“But the awards were two months ago. He’s still got another ten months before he needs to start worrying about next year’s awards.”

“And even then, that’s not even how he normally acts when he’s stressed about the awards. Normally he gets all snippy with the cast and spends every second yelling at one bird or another.” There was a pause as Jay gave Robin a look. Robin rolled his eyes. “More than usual. He doesn’t usually... space out like this.”

Scarlet couldn’t do anything but offer up a shrug. How she wished she had answers for them.

“Has the Conductor said anything to you about what’s bothering him, Scarlet?”

“Not to me, no.” Her wing moved to rub her arm. “All he’s been saying is that he’s really stressed out.”

“So he hasn’t even told his own girlfriend what’s going on?” Jay raised his beak. “I’m shocked. I figured you’d be the first person he’d talk to about it.”

“I don’t think he’s talked to anyone about it,” Scarlet sighed, “but I don’t want to force that answer out of him either.” Scarlet eyes moved to the floor. “He’s obviously going through something tough. I don’t need to make it worse by forcing him to talk about it when he doesn’t want to.” Her hand settled back onto her sketchbook, the snow-white owl looking back up at the other two. “I know he’ll tell me what’s wrong when he’s ready to... and even if I don’t know exactly what’s wrong, I'm still trying to help support him in whatever ways I can.”

Jay let out a long sigh. “Man, Scarlet, I gotta hand it to you: you have the patience of a saint.” He put his hands on his hips. “You’ve been dating him for... what, two years now?”

Scarlet’s expression flipped to a wide grin. “Three, actually.” She chirped. “We just hit our three year anniversary last month.”

“I have no idea how you’ve managed to put up with the Conductor’s mood swings for so many years. It’s a lot to handle just dealing with it at the studio. I can’t imagine what he’s like at home.”

Scarlet couldn’t help but giggle, placing a wing over her beak. That was something she’d heard a lot from the other birds. She knew they were referring to his heated moments more-so than the spacing out and withdrawing he was going through now. It never bothered her like it did the others. Why should she reprimand him for feeling emotions? As long as he wasn’t overstepping any boundaries, she didn’t see a problem with it. In fact, a part of her silently wished she could be as passionate as he was.

As if on cue, the studio doors swung open, the director in question making his grand entrance. His face was beaming. “Scarlet, dear! Glad ya could make it!”

“Hi, sweetie!” Scarlet greeted as he walked up to the group. The moment they were close enough, Scarlet and the Conductor locked hands, Scarlet giving the Conductor a light peck on the cheek.

“Hope ya weren’t waitin’ too long out here. I had ta finish up the shot before I could come out ta greet ya.”

“You know you could have had me come back to the sets or the green rooms. I wouldn’t have minded.”

“Bah!” The Conductor scoffed at the mere thought. “What kind o’ gentleman would I be if I made ya come ta me?” He fidgeted with his collar. “I just hope I didn’t make ya wait too long.”

“It’s fine.” Scarlet used her free hand to gesture to the others. “I had Robin and Jay here to keep me company while I waited.”

“Speaking of scenes,” Jay jumped into the conversation, “Conductor, do you know what scene we’re gonna be shooting once you’re done with Scarlet?”

“Yeah, we weren’t sure where you wanted us to go, since you didn’t need us for the last scene you were shooting.”

There seemed to be a moment of hesitation from their director, obvious enough that everyone else managed to catch it. “I, uh... I’m not sure yet.”

Robin and Jay exchanged puzzled looks. “Not sure...?” When had the Conductor ever told them he wasn’t sure what they’d be shooting next? “What do you mean?”

“Whaddya mean, ‘what do I mean?!’ I haven’t decided yet, ya peck necks!” In a split second he was flying off the handle. “What are ya expectin’—”

A white wing wrapped around his body had instantaneously silenced him. “Sweetie, don’t be so rough on them.” Scarlet spoke softly. “They’re just concerned for you, that’s all.” Her hand moved to rest on his torso.

There was a brief moment before the Conductor let out a sigh, his shoulders dropping. He gave a frustrated look, trying to swallow his anger as best he could. “Head on over ta the projection room. We’re gonna be previewin’ the trailer fer the movie there. I’ll decide what we’re doin’ after that.”

The owls exchanged nervous glances, but in the end decided to shrug it off. They knew they weren’t going to get any answers by drilling him there. They were just thankful that Scarlet was there to defuse the situation before the Conductor went on another heated tirade. “Okay then.” They moved past the couple and towards the door.

“You two lovebirds better not have too much fun by yourselves!” Robin hollered back before both owls made their way through the door.

Scarlet couldn’t help but laugh at the silly comment. The Conductor on the other hand was sneering. “Har har, very funny!” He shouted towards the doors. His feathers had puffed out, a clear sign that he was flustered.

“They’re just teasing, sweetie.” Scarlet cooed. She set her sketchbook on the nearby desk, then began to fix his tie. “Let your actors have a little fun with their director.” Her words were met with reluctant pouting. Once she’d finished with his tie, her wings moved to brush down the feathers on his face. “How about we get started on that poster, hm? We don’t want to keep the crew waiting, do we?”

With a sigh, his wings moved over top of hers. “I suppose yer right.” His temper had died back down, as reflected by his calmer voice. He gave her hands a light squeeze, but instead of guiding her back to the projection room, he silently gazed at the shorter owl. Upon noticing, Scarlet let out a giggle.

“What?”

The Conductor grinned. “Just wonderin’ how ya got ta be so beautiful.”

Scarlet’s feathers puffed out, the owl turning her head away. “Oh stop!”

“I’m only speakin’ the truth.” He took the turned head as an opportunity to steal a peck on her cheek, making her feathers puff out even more. “An’ I’ll fight anyone who tries ta tell ya otherwise!”

Flustered hooting left Scarlet’s throat. She tried to hide her face, but her hands were still being held hostage by the Conductor. “Y-your receptionist is right b-behind us!”

“So what?” The Conductor released her hands, moving his arms around her waist and pulling her in. “Let him watch.”

Scarlet’s flustered hooting turned to soft screeching. With her wings now free, they magnetized themselves to her face. The Conductor couldn’t help but throw his head back and howl with laughter. She was too cute when she got flustered!

“Ahh, I’m just teasin’ ya, sweetheart!” He lifted her hat up to help pat her feathers down like she had before. “How about we head back ta the projection room?”

Scarlet pulled her head back up, her cheeks puffed out in a pout. “You mean to watch the preview of the romance movie you’re intentionally getting me flustered for before watching?!” She huffed.

“The very same.” He gave her a smug look.

“You... you...!” She was choking hard on her words. “You jerk!”

“I had ta set the mood somehow. Ya said it yerself, ya draw best when you’re inspired, right?”

“Not that kind of inspired! How do you expect me to work when you’re planting these thoughts in my head?! That’s all I’m gonna be thinking about when the trailer’s rolling!”

After her last comment, Scarlet buried her face in the Conductor’s chest and let out a muffled screech, inciting more laughter from the other. She was always a hoot to poke fun at. Settling his laughter, he placed a wing on her back. “Tell ya what, Sweetheart, how ‘bout we take a moment ta let ya catch yer breath before goin’ in?” All he managed to get in response was quiet, muffled whimpering, which he took for a yes. With a hearty sigh, he began rubbing her back, waiting for her to calm back down and head back into the studio, quietly trying to quell his own worries too.

Hopefully Scarlet liked what was to come...

————

“So? Whaddya think?”

It wasn’t more than a few seconds after the trailer finished that Scarlet had her sketchbook open, furiously scribbling down every idea that was running around in her mind. From behind, all of the owls had been chattering about their thoughts and opinions on the trailer, as well as what it meant was possibly coming up during shoots. “I think it looks wonderful, dear.” She hummed while sketching. “When you’d told me you were trying your hand at an action-romance movie, I wasn’t quite sure which one of those two you were going to be leaning towards in terms of storytelling.” She looked up from her notebook for a brief moment to give him a smile. “Just based on what the trailer looks like, it looks like you managed to strike an even fifty-fifty with both genres.” She quickly went back to her sketchbook. “I’m just hoping I can make a design that will convey that as much as the trailer did.”

“I’m sure whatever ya come up wit’ is gonna be perfect.” The Conductor reassured her, placing an arm around her shoulder. He silently watched as the smaller owl sketched out idea after idea. There was something about watching her sketch that seemed so relaxing to him, no matter how calm or rushed she was making them. He’d always loved getting to watch her create. He was just thankful that she didn’t mind him hovering over her shoulder while she worked. Even when they’d first met, she never had a problem with it. The only time she ever shied away from showing him her artwork was whenever she had to capture his form. She always claimed that her artwork never did him justice, but as far as he was concerned, she seemed to capture his essence perfectly. It was one of the reasons he’d started commissioning her to make posters for him in the first place.

Scarlet had been sketching for a good several minutes. As the time passed, the conversations around them shifted from talk about the trailer to random conversations, many of which didn’t even relate to the movie’s production. While Scarlet didn’t mind the conversation change, she found it strange that the Conductor hadn’t rallied them up to work on the next scene. She stopped what she was working on and looked up to her mate. His head had been looking in the direction of her sketchbook, but something about his expression told her that his mind was nowhere near where his eyes were, especially when he gave no reaction to her stopping.

Setting her pencil down, Scarlet lightly tapped his knee. It seemed to be enough to jolt him out of his trance, the Conductor twitching slightly as he snapped back to reality. “Eh? Everythin’ alright?”

“Can I talk to you?” Scarlet whispered, nodding towards the corner of the room.

The Conductor felt his heart skip a beat. He gave a soft nod. “Sure...?”

The two owls stood up, making their way over to the empty corner of the room. The moment she was sure the others wouldn’t hear them, Scarlet took his hand in hers. “You know, if there’s something bothering you, you can always come and talk to me about it.” She came in close, giving his hand a squeeze. “I just... want to make sure you know that.”

“Eh?” The solemness in her voice made the director nervous. He lightly squeezed the hand that was holding his, placing the other on her upper arm, which was gripping her sketchbook. “I know that, Sweetheart. A... am I making it seem like I don’t?”

“N-no! Not at all!” She stammered, her concern only growing. She looked away, shrinking a bit in place. “I just... wanted to make sure you didn’t think I was ignoring you.” Her eyes looked back up to him. “You’ve been so stressed lately, but I know you’ve been going through some tough things that maybe you don’t want to talk to me about yet. That’s why I haven’t been prying... But now I’ve been worrying that I’ve been giving off the vibe that I don’t care, which is definitely not true! In all honesty, I’ve been worried sick... but at the same time, I don’t want to pressure you into talking and make you feel uncomfortable. I want you to tell me when you’re ready to tell me. I’ve been worried--”

Scarlet was cut off by the Conductor pulling her in close. “Well, ya don’t need ta worry. I never once thought ya ta be ignorin’ me.” He gave her a light nuzzle on the beak. “Sorry that I’ve been gettin’ ya all worked up about it.” He lowered his head. “I’ve just been... worried lately... about things goin’ smoothly.” He hesitantly admitted. “That’s all...”

“Do you mean... with the movie?”

The Conductor only gave her a concerned look, to which Scarlet let go of his hand and wrapped her free arm around him. “Don’t you worry about the movie. I know romance isn’t really something you’ve written before, but you’re still in your early directing days. You’ll get the hang of things as you go along.” She offered him a small smile. “If you ask me, I think you’re doing a really good job with it so far. With the way you’re mixing it with your action, I think you’ve done a great job of taking this genre and making it your own.”

The Conductor’s expression softened, now placing both hands on her upper arms. “Thank ya, Sweetheart.” He gave her a peck on the cheek. “Let’s just say I had a lot of inspiration this time around.”

It took a moment, but when she realized what he was referring to, Scarlet’s feathers puffed out, the owl meekly looking away. She struggled to find the correct words to say. “M-me!? I-I don’t see how b-boring old me inspired you...”

“Ye don’t give yerself enough credit.” The Conductor lightly squeezed her arms. “Yer always tellin’ me about how yer always drawing art inspiration from me movies. This time, it’s my turn to show how the story yer givin’ me has inspired me.”

“Th-the story?” Scarlet’s grip on her notebook tightened. “I-I-I... I-I...” That had been the first time he’d ever described their relationship like that. “You could write up a much more interesting story than anything I could give...”

“Nae, all the rewrites in the world wouldn’t give me a story like the one yer givin’ me.” He took one of his hands off to gently stroke her chin.

Scarlet could feel her face overheating. The Conductor had always been such a smooth talker when he wanted to be. It most likely came from the years of acting experience he had. Usually she could keep her cool when he played this game, but the genuine feel of his words were really getting to her right now. Not that his words weren’t genuine before, but something about hearing them now was getting her too flustered to keep her cool. “B-but we’ve barely started our story...” She tried her best to flirt back despite her nerves getting the better of her.

“Aye, yer right. There’s still plenty o’ blank pages left in it.” He leaned in close, gently turning her head back to look at him. “An’ I can’t wait ta keep fillin’ ‘em up wit’ ya.”

Having to look back at him while he was flirting up a storm was making her head spin. She closed her eyes, letting out a soft sigh as she too leaned in. “Then i-it looks like we’ve got a lot of work ahead of us.”

“Aye, that we do.” His wing traced her arm, stopping down by her wrist. “An’ if yer up for it, how about we start writin’ the next chapter?”

Scarlet’s eyes shot back open, her expression dropped as those words hit her ears. “The... next chapter...?”

Taking a step back, the Conductor knelt down in front of her. As soon as she realized what was happening, Scarlet let out a scream, dropping her notebook on the floor as both wings clasped over her beak. The noises drew the attention of every other owl to the couple, the room instantaneously silencing itself at what they saw:

The Conductor, down on one knee, holding a ring in front of him.

“Scarlet... Would ya do me the honor of becomin’ me wife?”

The other owl was already in tears, her body trembling uncontrollably. Was this real? Was this really happening?! “I swear this better not be a dream, and if it is you better let me sleep for the rest of my pecking life!”

“This isn’t a dream, Sweetheart... It’s all real.” He couldn’t hold back the widening grin on his face. “So what do ya say, Scarlet? Will ya marry me?”

“Yes!” Her response was instantaneous. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” Her answer sent the entire room into resounding cheers. Before he could even stand back up, Scarlet had already pulled him back to his feet, holding him in the tightest embrace. “Oh my gosh, yes!”

With her answer, the Conductor finally allowed himself to relax ever tense muscle in his body. That had to have been one of the hardest things he’d ever done, more than any crazy stunt he’d ever tried to pull. While he’d managed to keep a calm composure on the outside, he’d been secretly panicking nonstop. How many times had he replayed this proposal in his head before finally attempting to do it? More than was probably necessary, but now it didn’t matter. It was finally over, and in a short while, he’d soon be a married man! His free wing wrapped around her, lovingly rubbing her back. He couldn’t think of what to say, but anyone who could have seen the beaming smile stretching across his face could tell that right now, he was the happiest man alive.

Scarlet pulled back from the embrace, but only enough so she could wipe away the tears that were still rolling down her cheeks. “Was this what you’ve been stressing out about all week!?”

The Conductor meekly laughed. “... Maybe.”

“Oh my god!” She tried to pout, but her elation was making it too difficult to hold an angry face. “You had me worried sick! I thought something terrible was happening to you!”

He couldn’t hold back his laughter. “What was I supposed ta say? ‘I’m stressed ‘cause I’m tryin’ ta find the perfect time ta propose to ya?’”

“You jerk!” Scarlet cried, burying her face in the crook of his neck as her arm flew back around him.

The Conductor snickered. “An yer gettin’ married ta this jerk.” He nuzzled the side of her head with his beak. After giving her a moment, he took his free hand and gently pulled her arm away. When Scarlet looked back up to him, he held the ring up again. “May I?”

With a loud sniffle, Scarlet nodded, holding her hand up. As soon as he slid the ring over her feathery finger, the tears started overflowing again. Once again, her free wing went over her beak as she stared at the ring on her finger. Her overflowing emotions kept her from being able to find any words to speak. She couldn’t believe this was happening... she was engaged to the love of her life!

A pair of wings wrapped themselves around Scarlet’s waist, pulling her in close. The Conductor once again nuzzled her cheek tenderly, softly whispering into her ear. “I love ya, Scarlet.”

As those words hit her ears, Scarlet closed her eyes, throwing her arms back around her fiance in the tightest embrace. “I love you, too!” She choked out between sobs.

The Conductor gave a soft chuckle. He could feel those words reinvigorating him, taking a hand off and raising it in the air in a fist as he proudly turned to his crew. “She said yes, lads!” He proclaimed, the room once again cheering joyously as a dozen or more hats flew into the air. With a beaming expression, he turned back to his fiance. “How about we celebrate with a fancy dinner an’ some mimosa?”

“Not yet!” Scarlet squeezed the Conductor tighter, burying her face in the crook of his neck. “I’m not done...”

“Oh?” He put the hand back on her waist.

“This is your punishment for making me worry sick for a week straight!”

“Is that so?” He chuckled, gently returning the embrace. “Well, I’ll gladly take this punishment, Sweetheart.” With another heavenly sigh, the Conductor relaxed his weight into his lover’s arms. After a week of stressing out, this was the best therapy he could have possibly gotten for it. Nothing on the planet could have made him happier than he was now.

“So far, I’d say this chapter’s off ta a great start!”

#long post #Short Film ( Drabble )#Light O' Me Life ( Scarlet )

3 notes · View notes

if-you-built-yourself-a-myth · 5 years

Text

Yellow Curtains - Chapter One

Lucas Lallemant happens upon several people online who appear to be living lives quite similar to his own-- maybe even the same. (Or, all the alternate Isaks find each other online when Even becomes famous)

Lucas first saw the picture on his Instagram explore page, at three in the morning when Eliott was with his parents. He should have been sleeping, he supposed, but over the previous week they’d spent together his body learned to gel with Eliott’s at night. He could only sleep with his arm draped over Eliott’s midsection. This problem should have been fixable; he tried to wrap his arm around a pillow, or a bundle of comforter, but the fabric didn’t feel as warm and didn’t have a chest that rose and fell with each rhythmic breath. It wasn’t the same.

Hence, a late-night/early-morning browsing session.

He followed a lot of actors, meaning his explore page feed usually filled with photos from upcoming movies and low-budget indie films from all over the world. Eliott loved that kind of thing. He could sit and watch foreign language dramas, unsubtitled, for hours and hours commenting on the use of color in each scene and the smoothness with which each actor spoke. Lucas had never been one for cinema he couldn’t understand. He appreciated the concepts, and English wasn’t so bad to hear, but it wasn’t his niche.

Really, the only reason he followed so many actors in the first place was to keep up with Eliott’s obsessive interest in obscure titles with equally obscure directors and plot lines. He didn’t know half of the people whose pictures he liked.

Well, he knew a few. Xavier Dolan posted a new photo. Lucas liked it without much thought. He would always appreciate the man who inspired his and Eliott’s art of a reunion, even if he’d never stayed awake through the entirety of one of his movies.

“It’s in French!” Eliott had yelled at him. “No subtitles! It’s in French!”

“Not my thing,” he’d replied.

“Dubstep wasn’t your thing either, and look at you now.”

“I don’t actually like dubstep, I just love you.”

Xavier Dolan earned his like for the sake of that conversation alone. Lucas treasured when he had the opportunity to tell Eliott how much he loved him in some sappy way. He scrolled down past Xavier Dolan’s post and into a section of related ones, probably all from similar directors.

In the midst of his browsing, he found his attention drawn to a photo of two blond boys, standing together in a location tagged as Oslo, Norway. Call it fate, call it intuition, but he knew for sure something was different about these two people.

He tapped the photo so it took up most of the screen. One of the boys wore a gray sweatshirt similar to the one Lucas himself had in his closet. The other sported a jean jacket with a small pansexual flag pin on the pocket. The latter boy’s posture reminded Lucas of someone, although he wasn’t quite sure just who. He oozed confidence. If you looked at his face though, he seemed quite shy and timid. Lucas scrolled downward to read the caption.

isakyaki Congratulations to my wonderful boyfriend, Even Bech Næshiem, on directing his first full-length movie. I love you and cannot wait to see everything else you have to offer.

Even. The name stirred something in Lucas. He looked at the picture again. Which of the two was Even? Was it the taller boy with the jean jacket or the smaller one in the sweatshirt? He felt like he’d seen them both before, if only in passing, and surprised himself by feeling a tinge of resentment towards the shorter. Maybe they fought sometime? There was that whole mess with Alex, Charles, and those boys a while ago. He clicked into his Instagram messages and shot one to Eliott.

lucallemant: Do we know Even Bech Næshiem?

Eliott took a millisecond to reply.

srodulv: he’s a director

lucallemant: yeah, but do we know him

srodulv: no???

Huh. Go figure. Lucas turned his focus away from the photo. He accessed his home feed.

Emma and Alex were together tonight (or rather, last night) judging by Emma’s Instagram story. From what he heard from the girls on Sunday, they decided to be a legitimate couple instead of just a wild fling. He wondered what Yann thought about this development. The guilt was definitely still there, from when he made deliberate plans to break Yann and Emma up, because if he hadn’t said anything to Camille about the kiss then they would still be together. He was friends with Alex, sure, but the guy cheated. He’d done it once, and he would again. Lucas didn’t want Emma getting herself hurt anymore.

Chloe posted something yesterday afternoon, too. She must have gone out with Yann to some coffee shop within walking distance. Another thing to feel guilty about. Even though he didn’t totally forgive Chloe for telling everyone she could about him and Eliott, he knew he’d really screwed her over by pretending to be in love with her for so long. Regret-central on Instagram tonight.

He couldn’t force himself to move through everyone else’s posts. He’d probably seen the rest, and if he hadn’t then he obviously didn’t care very much about the people involved.

Instead, he looked back at the picture of Even from earlier.

Logically, he knew he couldn’t know either boy. They both lived in Norway, and one was supposedly somewhat famous, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d seen them both before somewhere—and not just in a foreign language movie.

lucallemant: did we know him at one point?

srodulv: no

lucallemant: are you sure?

srodulv: pretty sure. why?

lucallemant: he looks familiar

srodulv: there are a lot of people on earth

srodulv: maybe you’re confusing him for somebody else

lucallemant: who would I be confusing him for?

srodulv: I don’t know

Lucas looked into the poster’s profile. Okay, so the shorter boy in the photo was Isak. Even was the taller, then, the one with the crazy hair and the sweet smile. The familiar one. He scrolled through Isak’s photos of the two of them together, noting at one point a girl who looked a lot like Emma. Something fishy was happening here. He’d never seen these people before, and yet it was as if he had seen them every day for his entire life.

srodulv: Could be the dynamic

lucallemant: what do you mean?

srodulv: they have our dynamic lol

srodulv: the artist and the grumpy one

srodulv: ❤️ ❤️

lucallemant: haha

Lucas turned off his phone and sat back against his headboard. Eliott had a point. He could recognize Even because he seemed similar to Eliott in interest and posture-- that’s what it was. His phone buzzed.

srodulv: here, you can really see it here

Eliott attached a YouTube link for something. An interview.

Lucas tapped to pull up the interview on YouTube and clicked on the subtitles. If he was to put them in French, they would be auto-generated. Auto-generated subtitles were never trustworthy, so he’d just have to watch the interview with English ones and fumble through the gist of what each person said.

“Where did the two of you meet?” asked the interviewer.

Isak laughed and turned to Even. “Do you want to tell him?”

“Kosegruppa,” said Even. “Thank you, Vilde.”

“And how did you get the chance to talk with him?”

Again, both Even and Isak shared a glance and a giggle.

“He took all the paper towels,” said Isak. “All of them. Then he asked if I needed one, handed me one from the trash, and invited me outside to smoke a joint with him.”

Lucas paused the video. He met Eliott at a group meeting, didn’t he? He first saw Eliott sitting in the back and they made eye contact for a beautiful moment. Afterward, when they met at the bus stop, Eliott took all the candy bars and offered to smoke a joint with him. That was… similar, to say the least. He made a mental note to Google kosegruppa later. He pressed play.

“And you found that charming?” the interviewer prodded.

Isak threw an arm over Even’s shoulders and stood on tiptoe to plant a kiss on his forehead. “Of course I did. I was in love with him from the moment we locked eyes. I would have kissed him right there if it wasn’t for Emma.”

The interviewer leaned inward, closer to the two boys. “Who is Emma?”

“Emma is my ex-girlfriend.” When the interviewer looked concerned, he clarified, “It’s okay, we’re on good terms now. Everything’s smoothed over. She sat down right next to us and started—”

“—sharing the joint!” Even finished. “It was so awkward! I couldn’t make her leave. But I guess things worked out in the end so… sorry, Emma!”

Again, Lucas paused the video. When he and Eliott were at the bus stop, the exact same thing happened with Chloe. The exact same thing. When he looked at Even’s easygoing expression again, he realized he’d seen the same one on his own boyfriend’s face dozens of times. This was starting to get a little creepy.

He closed the app before he could watch the rest, and sent another message.

lucallemant: did you watch that interview?

srodulv: yeah

lucallemant: with subtitles?

srodulv: they didn’t have French

lucallemant: watch it

srodulv: it’s three

lucallemant: you’re not sleeping

srodulv: how do you know

lucallemant: you’re answering me

srodulv: maybe I am answering you in my sleep

lucallemant: they met the same as us. Watch the interview, please

srodulv: I can’t, I’m asleep

If Lucas didn’t love Eliott so much, he could have strangled him.

He reopened the Instagram app to explore Isak’s profile once more. He could distinguish the main characters in Isak’s life from the posts: Even, three other boys, and the girl who reminded him of Emma. Maybe she was Emma, the Emma Isak referred to in the video interview. This was all too bizarre. He also was a part of a four-friend crew, had a tag-along in Chloe for a while, and had a first-and-only kind of boyfriend. Lives don’t get much more similar than that.

He figured he might as well send a message, ask about it. Isak probably wouldn’t even see it in his inbox, since he dated a film director and their relationship seemed to be quite popular. He would not even notice the new message on top of all the others.

Lucas typed the words into the box and hit send before he could convince himself to do otherwise.

lucallemant: Hello, I saw your interview and it was kind of crazy. You met Even the same way I met my boyfriend, complete with an annoying intervention. If I may ask, did you ditch a double date to have your first kiss?

#skam france #skam #elu #evak #skam france fanfiction #skam fanfiction #lucas lallemant #isak valtersen #eliott demaury #even bech næsheim #i hope this doesn't suck too much #and i didn't miss too many typos #i probs need more editing but yolo we'll see how this does

79 notes · View notes

chiseler · 5 years

Text

An Interview With Screenwriter Louisa Rose

In 1973, Brian De Palma released Sisters, his Siamese twin mystery thriller starring Margot Kidder and Charles Durning. After a string of social satires which, to be honest, haven’t aged very well, Sisters was De Palma’s breakthrough film, the one that would cement the form and style for which he’d come to be known. A year later he released the horror/comedy/glam rock opera Phantom of the Paradise starring the great Paul Williams. Hitting theaters more than a year before Rocky Horror, Phantom combined elements from Faust, Phantom of the Opera and about a dozen other sources into a bright, fast, wicked comic book satire of the music business. The film went on to become a cult favorite.

Both films were written by screenwriter Louisa Rose, though she is rarely credited for her work on Phantom. After some reputed and proverbial creative differences, De Palma removed her name from the film and rewrote the script, taking sole screenwriting credit. Although Rose disagrees with me, I think it can be argued it was her work on these two scripts, particularly Sisters, that drew attention to De Palma as a director.

After spending the first 20 years of her adult life in New York City, she and her husband relocated first to Spokane and then to Seattle about a decade back. Not long ago, I spoke with her via phone about her career as a playwright and Hollywood screenwriter.

Jim Knipfel: How did you get started in screenwriting?

Louisa Rose: {Laughs} By accident. I was one of those kids who wrote poetry in high school. I went to college thinking I wanted to be an actress. Theater was my primary interest. I found that I really enjoyed the rehearsal process, but really did not enjoy acting for an audience. That was not a recommendation for a career on stage, so part of my theater concentration (we called our majors “concentrations” at Sarah Lawrence) was writing for the theater. And that’s what I really loved. Brian De Palma was at Columbia, and though they had extra-curricular student theater, they did not have the intensive program as part of the curriculum that SLC did, and does.

At any rate, Brian and another Columbia student came to Sarah Lawrence to do theater and some film projects, because the head of the theater department, Wilford Leach, was interested in film as well. He was a mentor for Brian. The first film project, I believe, was a short piece called The Wedding Party. I don’t know if you’ve heard of that.

JK: Oh, yes, I’ve seen it.

LR: After that Brian made Murder a la Mod and Dionysus, I think it was.

JK: You mean Dionysus in ’69?

LR: Yes, Dionysus in ’69 started out as a theater piece. Scared the shit out of me when I went to see it. It was created by an interesting experimental director, Richard Schechner, as a mass quasi-orgy experience. The venue, The Performing Garage, had stadium seating, actually more like large long shelves almost to the ceiling – and you had to climb ladders to reach them. Then the actors would climb up and invite you to “join the dance.” And I saw one coming toward me… “No, I am not joining the dance. I am an observer” {laughs}.

Brian did his Masters at Sarah Lawrence, and one of his projects was to direct my senior play. That’s how I got to know him. I then went on to get my MFA in theater. So he knew me and he was looking for someone to write a script for Sisters. He felt his idea for the film would be marketable, but he needed a script. It sounded like fun, and actually became my Master’s thesis.

JK: Really?

LR: Yeah, so that’s how I got to work on Sisters.

JK: So he came to you with the story?

LR: He had kind of an outline. He had this idea that it would be twins, one evil and one good sister…You know, it’s just so long ago it’s hard for me to remember. There were certain points, certain visual things he wanted. We worked together on the story, and then I wrote the script.

As for Phantom of the Fillmore …

JK: Um, you mean Phantom of the Paradise?

LR: That’s it, Phantom of the Fillmore. It became Paradise.

{Note: After catching wind of the film’s original title, the owners of The Fillmore filed a lawsuit, forcing the change. Another lawsuit, this one filed by Led Zeppelin, forced the name of the films central record company, Swan Song, be changed to Death Records.}

LR: I took time off from working in NYC to go to LA and write scripts for Sisters and Phantom. At that point, I was a single mother, and my daughter Alissa was two and a half. I brought her with me and had her in day care. I had a contract for a total of $80,000 for the two scripts. But when it came to getting paid, Brian delayed and delayed, told me it was not a good time and that I needed to wait. As usual, actors, director, camera persons, etc. were paid. I needed the money, had to sue to be paid, and only received a quarter of the contract money. Brian had been a friend, and it felt like a betrayal.

But back to the movie, what is your take on Sisters? What are the things you notice about it?

JK: I went back just a couple days ago and watched it again. Just in terms of De Palma’s career, it was a big turning point for him. Discounting Murder A La Mod, he’d been doing all those goofy satires like Greetings and Hi Mom! And Get to Know your Rabbit. Sisters was the first of his thrillers and the first of his Hitchcock homages, the things he’d come to be known for.

LR: Right.

JK: Ignoring the Psycho model at play, one of the things that always struck me about Sisters was that in lesser hands the big Siamese twins reveal would have been saved until the last ten or fifteen pages of the script, but here we get it about forty minutes in. Even before that, they gave it away in the poster; they gave it away in the tagline. There was no secret the killer—or killers—were Siamese twins. But then of course there’s the later twist, which brings us back to Psycho.

LR: Mm-hmm.

JK: What really sticks with me, though, is the whole final sequence from Jennifer Salt’s hypnotism to that final shot of Charles Durning staring through the binoculars at the couch. It’s so good. I love that ending so much. Also, having come to know of her only later, I was amazed to see what a good actress Margot Kidder was.

LR: I thought she was very appealing and a really good choice for the part.

JK: In the end Sisters, more so than the thrillers that would follow—Dressed to Kill, Body Double, Blow Out—is the one I always go back to, because even the Hitchcock stuff is still fairly understated at that point. So I’m wondering, how much of that final script, what made it to the screen, was yours?

LR I think I have a copy of my original script here, if I could find it. It was much longer and needed to be cut. I really don’t know. It was a long time ago and I’d need to re-read it.

There is a Blu-Ray copy of Sisters put out by Arrow that has interviews of some people who worked on the film.

I’ve got it somewhere.]

My husband keeps saying I should show it to our teenage grandchildren, but it might destroy their image of me as nice old grandma. On the other hand, some years ago, our two nephews watched it as young teenagers and looked at me with new respect—or was it fear?

Now, what is funny is that Sisters is kind of a cult film, and so is Phantom. About ten years ago, shortly after we moved to Seattle, I got a call from a young woman originally from Winnipeg.

JK: The one city where Phantom was a big hit when it came out.

LR: Yes, it was a cult film there, with a festival and now possibly a documentary about the festival. We had a visit, and she mailed me – I believe it was a production copy of the script for Sisters.

JK: So what was it like for you, a young woman writing films in the Seventies?

LR: There are things funny and not funny that happened…Nothing about the movie business appealed to me, based on my very limited experience. The people were kind of awful. I have memories of someone from the studio, a married accountant. He said, “Oh, I have to go to San Francisco to scout locations, and you could come with me.” The whole approach was making me nervous, and I said, “Well, I have a two-year-old daughter with me, so, uh, no I can’t do that.” And he said, “Well, we could bring your daughter and get baby-sitting for her, and then we could have a Really Good Time.” I thought, oh, just leave me alone—I’m not a gorgeous actress, I’m a writer.

JK: Not that long ago I interviewed an actress from the late Fifties who up and left the movie business for twenty years because she wouldn’t put up with that.

LR: Women were treated horribly in Hollywood as elsewhere. When I went to look for a job in New York after college, there were separate job listings for men and women. Men could apply for management-track jobs and women could be a “Gal Fri” or a “Secy.”

I was very taken by a piece in Ms. Magazine about a woman who worked in a factory that made plutonium pellets and who became a whistle-blower. I thought it would make a good movie.

JK: You mean Karen Silkwood?

LR: That’s it. So I met a woman who worked at New Line Cinema, who got me an interview with a producer there. I came in and I was supposed to pitch my idea. It was almost like a parody of a scene in a Hollywood movie about a Hollywood movie. The guy is sitting there with his feet up on the desk and he has these three or four male cronies sitting around, and he’s cracking jokes and they’re all laughing heartily at his jokes. Eventually he said, “So you want to write a script,” and I said “Yeah.” I started telling him about it, and he kept interrupting me. He was horrified to learn that Karen Silkwood, a single mother, had left her children with their grandparents so she could take a well-paying job at the plant. “No one would ever go to see a movie about a woman who leaves her children,” he announced. Basically, the interview was over at that point. He looked at me and asked if I knew how to type. When I said yes, he said,

“Well, you could come and be a typist here.”

JK: My god.

LR: At that point, I said, “I think you’ve really got too much going on here to pay attention, so I think this isn’t working too well.” He sprang up from his desk and stalked off, bright red, furious. He came back and said, “I have never been so insulted in my life.” That was the end of that. {Laughs.}

{Note: For what it’s worth, Rose’s instincts were good. Director Mike Nichols’ take on the Silkwood story, starring Meryl Streep and written by Nora Ephron, was released in 1983.}

LR: Then, because I’d written a horror movie, I was offered other projects. One was to be a murder film involving Debbie Harry, the lead singer with Blondie, the rock group. The only requirement as far as the potential director was concerned was that it needed to have seven or eight murders. The rest was up to me. I met Debbie Harry and talked to her to get a sense of what she could do. You just get a sense of what people can do. She had no acting background.

JK: Would this have been her first picture?

LR: It would have been, I think, but it was never made. At one point, she said “Well, I just want to play the part of a housewife in the movie.” And I thought she’d be more believable as the person she actually was. So I made it about a rock group beset by a number of murders. I think it had seven murders. Then I came back for the next meeting. She’d read the script and said, “I can’t do this movie; it’s the story of my life.” And I thought, WHAT? {Laughs.}. I mean, WHAT? So that one didn’t happen.

JK: So that was, what, around 1980?

LR: I think so, late Seventies or early Eighties. Something like that.

JK: So that was after Monique was made?

LR; {pause} So you know about that.

JK: Yes.

LR: How did you find out about that?

JK: Well, it’s listed on your filmography online, and I’ve seen it.

LR: {Sighs heavily and laughs} It has very little to do with me. Believe me, I’ve seen it also. That’s the thing about screenwriting. Who knows? You sit at home and do your writing, but who knows what will emerge?

I was hired by a French would-be feature film director who had done film work for a famous French fashion house. He wanted a story about a woman who becomes psychotic when she learns her husband is gay and proceeds to murder a bunch of gay men.

I don’t recognize the script part of it and wish I didn’t have a credit on it. It’s one of the worst things I’ve ever seen, and I think you can agree with me.

JK: I was going to hold my tongue.

LR: Well, don’t.

JK: It was pretty bad. But I will tell you, it is extremely hard to find nowadays.

LR: Good.

And then there was the time an agent called and said she had a project for me, and that I didn’t have to do my best writing; I could do my second best writing.

JK: That sounds promising.

LR: Well as a writer if someone called and said they had a project but that you’d only have to do your second-best writing, what would you say?

JK: I think I’d ask how much it paid.

LR: But what would be you’re “second-best writing”? It’s like we have it in categories. It’s like, do I want Double A grade eggs? Should they be certified, “humanely raised”? Or do you just want ordinary eggs? How do you apply that to writing? Sure. I can write bad scenes, but I don’t have a special price category for them.

There was another project that I thought was extremely funny. Somebody, God, I can’t even remember who it was anymore; a producer had bought the rights to The Sensuous Woman. Have you heard of that one?

JK: Oh, sure, yes. It was a huge bestseller back then.

LR: It was written by someone only identified as “J” at the time and was supposed to be an advice book. I think one of the funniest suggestions was supposedly made by a woman who found she could have an orgasm by leaning against the dryer when it was running—or maybe it was the washing machine during the final spin cycle. {laughs}. My job was to take the book and think of some way to dramatize it and turn it into a movie. The producer, it turned out, had a history of hiring writers and refusing to pay them by claiming that they had not given him a satisfactory script. The previous writer had been a well-known playwright.

JK: So it was around that point you decided to walk away from films?

LR: I didn’t walk away in the sense that I said, “I’m not doing film-script writing anymore.” But, I wanted to do theater, and I was also trying to bring up a daughter. The head of my college theater department, Wil Leach, had gone to work as artistic director at Joe Papp’s Shakespeare Festival. Wil decided to do an all-black version of Mother Courage. It was to be set in America at the time of the Indian Wars. Post-Civil War. Everything was recast, and he didn’t use the Brecht score. He had a composer to do a new score, and he had a black lyricist, who said, “I’m not doing this, it doesn’t pay enough.” Will knew that I had done lyrics for a couple of theatre pieces I worked on in college. So he asked if I would like to do it. It was a really interesting project, taking the Brecht lyrics in German and finding an equivalent way to do them for this production. I don’t know German, so they gave me a German professor from Wesleyan, and we went over the lyrics word by word. We talked a lot about the connotations of the words. I had a Black English dictionary, and I had all kinds of materials. I just loved doing that.

JK: Now when was this, roughly?

LR: In 1980. Before that I also did a couple of plays at La MaMa, one of which went to Off Broadway. It seems when I look back at the things I’ve done, so many of them involve really painful experiences. I think I’m not well suited to keeping my eye on the ball. I keep getting sidetracked, thinking I don’t want to lose friends, don’t want to make anybody miserable and don’t want anyone to make me miserable. Some people have been able to somehow find a home, a theatrical home. I did not. My last production was in Seattle.

JK: What was the play?

LR: It was a play about Catherine the Great. I wanted to write a reflective two-character play based on Catherine’s own writing about her life before she became an Empress. She was a teenager when she went to Russia to marry the heir to the throne, an alcoholic teenage boy from Sweden. Somehow it morphed into a much bigger deal, a costume extravaganza. I had a wonderful director, Elizabeth Huddle, who was Intiman’s Artistic Director. But, I had horrible reviews in the Seattle papers, and so that was when I gave up.

I’ve written three non-fiction books with my husband, who is a physician.

JK: What were they?

LR: The first one was for consumers about how to use healthcare, how to talk to doctors, what to do when a hospital admission was necessary. The second book was called The Too-Precious Child, and it was about parents who become so involved with their own wishes and fears about their child that they are unable to experience his or her needs. They might be very loving or not but they are unable to take the child’s actual self into account. The book was published in 1989, and the problem we discussed seems to have gotten massively worse.

We wrote the third book for Consumer Reports to help people understand the basic types of health insurance, how to choose the best plan for one’s circumstance, and how to get the most out of its coverage. My husband was CEO of a health plan and understood the issues, but I could identify with consumers who were trying to figure out how things worked. It took me two weeks and tears of frustration to understand how a family benefit works. Insurance terminology was painful, but I figured if I could be made to understand it, I could explain it to people. Maybe I could turn that into a movie {laughs}. I’ll go pitch that one.

by Jim Knipfel

6 notes · View notes

derekklenadaily · 6 years

Text

Synopsis/Review of Derek’s Solo Concert at Feinstein’s 54 Below

Monday night on January 18th, I had the opportunity to go to see Derek’s solo debut concert again but this time, it was at Feinstein's 54 Below in New York City. The place was bit larger than Cafe Carlyle and the place had an old-kind of feel to it with copper tin tiled ceiling and small lamps lit aglow at the booth at the back of the restaurant. We had to arrive at 5:00 and the show started a little bit after 7. Derek arrived in his gray pin-striped suit attire with a casual gray shirt and dark pants. He opened the show by singing ‘Some Kind of Time’ by Pasek and Paul’s Off-Broadway Dogfight, then he greeted the audience, thanking us for coming. In a prelude, before singing a beautiful mashup of “Go The Distance” (Disney’s Hercules)/“Out There” (Disney’s Hunchback of Notre Dame) He told us about the memories of him growing up, watching a lot of Disney’s films and singing their songs with his younger sister, Lauren and brother, Dillon. Before he got to sing “Lady” by ‘Styx’, Benjamin stopped him because he had something for all of us to see; with the simple click on two television screens - suddenly, a clip of America's Most Talented Kid appears with Dave Coulier as a host. A young 14 year old Derek comes out onstage, he had a neck length long hair and wearing buttoned down shirt and black pants, giving that 90's vibes to it. And I gotta to say that he seriously had the pipes at that age! Goodness! And what was very sweet that we could see his family members including younger siblings in the audience, Dillion and Lauren holding poster signs saying "Go D!" or "Derek Klena rocks!" During the clip, I took a quick peek over to the stage and under the dim lighting above Derek as he stood next to Benjamin, I could see his adorable reactions; laughing and blushing. After his segment ended, he sat with his mom Lynn and the host Dave, while the kid judges (Daryl Sabara - 'Spy Kids', Scarlett Pomers - 'Reba' and Bobb'e J. Thompson - 'So Raven') gave their review. They gave positive accolades about his segment and Scarlett pretty much had heart eyes emoji look on her face the whole time. After that, Derek continued on his journey with his performing, giving us an insight of his small, baby starting steps to his career; by doing regional shows in LA, battling back and forth whether to stay in baseball for UCLA or continue on to become a performer, getting the golden ticket in American Idol which he end up making it to Hollywood Week. He sang “Come Home” by ‘One Republic’.

Last September, Derek married his longtime girlfriend Elycia who he met during the first week of college. He sang a mash up of Maroon 5′s “Sunday Morning”, “Your Song” by Elton John and “She’s Got A Way” by Billy Joel to her. It was really sweet! Before singing “Goodbye” from Catch Me If You Can, he told us the story where Marc Shaiman heard him sing this song and asking Derek to send a recording for as Aaron’s standby before coming to Broadway. Went off to sing “Dreamer in Disguise” from Carrie the Musical which was lovely to hear! I feel like this song is a bit underrated on the Carrie the musical score. Then he introduced about his time on Dogfight with Tony Winner and a great friend of Derek’s Lindsay Mendez. For the upcoming piece from Dogfight, Benjamin collected a girl who sat behind me, named Abby. During that song, it was really sweet to watch and she did a fabulous job reading/acting as Rose while he sang "Come To A Party"! As he tells us about the decision of whether going back to school or continue to pursuing with performing - he goes into sing “Dancing Through Life” from the show. Then he went off to talk about his Broadway debut in Wicked as Fiyero, doing the special tenth anniversary of it, and his life-long friendship with Lindsay who was Elphaba. A sudden memory comes up when Derek went up to the director, Joe Mantello on how he should have his haircut for the character Fiyero. Short or long? Joe replied, “Bieber, baby.” Then the production still of Derek as Fiyero came on the television screens. He had his long bangs swifted to the side, like the younger days of Justin Bieber. He had Fiyero's one of infamous outfits; green shirt with dark overalls while holding the lantern in the mist. Suddenly, a head of Justin Bieber appears next to Derek's Fiyero to show us the comparison in between the two. It lead him to sing the Bieber medley, which was really great to watch him to sing that again and having fun, swinging the microphone around and dancing a bit on stage.

After that, he talked about his run in Bridges of Madison County with Kelli O’ Hara and Hunter Foster as his parents in the show, which couldn’t be any better than that. He goes to sing Steve's solo piece which placed in Act Two in the show, “It All Fades Away”. Next, he talked about Anastasia, he talked about how it was an embarrassment of riches, working with the creative team, Lynn Ahrens, Stephen Flahtery, Darko Tresnjak and Terrence McNally who wrote the book. Also, working with the cast of Anastasia especially the main lead actress Christy Altomare (Anya/Anastasia) who he called a 'Wonder Woman'. With that note, he suddenly gave us a special surprise to all of us in the audience; he announced Christy's name and invited her to join Derek onstage. "My face hurts from smiling so much! Your singing and acting is insane! You heal the soul!” Christy praised after watching him. Derek went 'Awww!' and hugged her in thanks. Christy and Derek reminisced their audition day for the Hartford run; Derek said that Christy was there earlier in the day (she had auditioned before), she told him that she had to come back to audition to read and sing with her "old boyfriend", meaning their respective roles as lovers, Sue Snell and Tommy Ross in Carrie. They both sang "In A Crowd of Thousands" as their audition duet. Derek said that he didn't know the lyrics as much as Christy did. But, thankfully once the creative team saw them, they knew Derek and Christy were it. So, when they sang "In A Crowd of Thousands" for us, it was so incredibly beautiful and magical to watch them in front of me because it was like going back to the Broadhurst and seeing them on stage as Anya/Anastasia and Dmitry all over again. On that little stage, it was not Christy and Derek, they became their characters. Their chemistry was just sparking so vividly - there's nothing like it on stage. But offstage, you can tell their friendship is so very special and unique after knowing each other for so long.

One of the highlight/favorite parts of the concert was Derek giving such a small inspirational speech about how you may stumble in life, you have to grow and learn from certain experiences. And one of his most known quotes, “Seize every opportunity” is the most important part when going through an experience, because you never know where, when or what will lead you. For him, it went from doing regional theatres, television singing competitions to BWW's random review that got his foot in the door to New York City to do auditions then performing in shows on the Great White Way. This led to “You Learn” from Alanis Morrisette's Jagged Little Pill (the musical is coming to this fall on Broadway), and I can't get enough of listening/watching his acoustic rendition of it on Feinstein's/54 Below's Facebook, it's absolutely gorgeous! For the finale or encore; Derek sang songs from “Always Remember Us” from the recent film, A Star Is Born was lovely to listen to again which was and “You Will Be Back” from Hamilton the Musical which led him to ask the audience to sing with him and show off his silly side once again.

I was so glad that I got to enjoy Derek's solo concert again! I thought he seemed alot more comfortable and relaxed than the concert at Cafe Carlyle. It was absolutely enjoyable, funny, intimate and personal all at once as he shared with us audience about his life experiences and career. If you want to see or follow more updates on Derek, you can follow him on social media: on instagram: @Derek__Klena, on twitter: @derekklena And if you want to follow us to keep an update on his projects and career, we are on twitter and tumblr: @DerekKlenaDaily | tumblr.com/derekklenadaily

Sincerely, Dani One of the admins of DerekKlenaDaily

#Derek Klena #Feinstein's/54 Below #54 Below #review/synopsis #Christy Altomare #txt #ours**#dani**

16 notes · View notes

heisenbergchronicles · 6 years

Photo

APPRECIATION & INTERVIEW

Better Call Saul episode posters by Matt Talbot After 4 nearly years, I thought it was time to catch up with Matt Talbot about his Better Call Saul poster project. The last time we talked during Season 1, Matt was deep in the hustle of making his name as an illustrator: juggling a full-time job, freelance projects, as well as band. Finding time for personal projects like this one can be a significant challenge. (Not to mention surviving the death of your tools: During Season 1 his Mac laptop died, and this season, his Wacom tablet bit the bullet). But despite these challenges, the 43-year-old New Hampshire native has persevered to create a clever and thoughtful series of episode posters that has garnered considerable attention, and brought with it new high-profile clients and art exhibitions.

First, congratulations on all of your success and recognition with this series of posters. It’s well-deserved. What’s been the most gratifying feedback you’ve received? Thank you! Every interaction I’ve had with anyone from the show has delighted me. I've been surprised by all of the cast and crew members who have said nice things – every note I’ve gotten has meant a lot to me. That being said, Michael McKean randomly tweeting at me that he has my poster for Chicanery hanging in his home blew my mind. I was eating dinner when my phone showed the notification and I literally jumped up from the table. I’ve been a fan of Michael’s since I saw Spinal Tap in the ‘80s and never in a million years would I have guessed I’d make something he valued enough to hang in his home.

Tell me about your contributions to Gallery1988 exhibitions. How does that process work? It's a pretty simple process. They invite me to be part of a show, and I make something to send them. I’m very excited for the opportunity to show there, and I feel like it’s a milestone in my art-making career.

Across the 4 seasons, which BCS posters are your favorites? Which one are you most proud of? I’m particularly fond of Rebecca, Rico, Marco, Switch, Sunk Costs and Something Beautiful. Oh man, it's hard for me to evaluate my own stuff. I tend to like the posters where I find a way to get a different take on something they did in the episode. I would say that “Sunk Costs” is also one of my favorites because I did something differently than how they shot it, and because Mike is so recognizable even from the back. I was also pleased with “Off Brand” because it was when I finally figured out how to draw Bob Odenkirk.

How has your process for creating these posters evolved over 4 seasons? When I started this project I had a vague idea that I would focus on scenes rather than portraits or likenesses, but that didn’t even last half a season! The characters were too good not to include. In that way, the posters have evolved in my willingness to draw characters, and also, hopefully, my ability to draw them.

My process is now something like: Watch the show on Monday; think about it on Tuesday, figure out what stood out to me and do a thumbnail sketch or two; draw it on Wednesday night; post it Thursday afternoon. I’m a bit faster at drawing these now compared to when I started. And I’m a bit more decisive on choosing which subject matter to depict.

There have been quite a few changes on the visual side of Better Call Saul over the last 2 seasons. New directors (Minkie Spiro, Daniel Sackheim, and Andrew Stanton), a new cinematographer Marshall Adams, even new cameras. What are your thoughts on how the show’s visual grammar has evolved? Has any of this impacted your posters from Seasons 3 & 4? I try not to just redraw literal scenes from the show, and I don’t need to tell you that they shoot the show in an incredibly beautiful way. I mean, they always, always, pick the best angle, the best shot to capture something. For that reason, it’s sometimes hard to to come up with another take on a moment from the show.

That being said, the visual style hasn’t really impacted my posters as much as the evolving subject matter has. The show, I think, is substantially darker than it was in the early going. It was easier to depict Jimmy’s hi-jinx in the first couple seasons. But with Chuck’s deteriorating mental state, the cartel stuff, Mike going deeper into Fring’s world and of course, Jimmy’s loosening sense of morals, the funny moments are harder to spot. That’s lead me to some more somber layouts and color choices.

We didn’t discuss this in our first interview. Which typeface are you using in your posters, or is this custom typography? The main logo and episode titles are set in Sign Painter, from the excellent House Industries.

The Heisenverse is known for it’s color theory and use of color. How has that impacted your color choices in these posters? I’ve kind of adhered to their blue=good/red=bad symbolism, but I also try to balance out colors between episodes and not repeat myself in sequential posters.

Many of your posters (especially ones this season) use a monochromatic, or simple palette of 1-2 colors. Tell me more about why you chose that approach. Is this a signature of your style? I’ve seen this approach in a lot of your work. You know, in the early seasons, I was trying to use simpler color palettes, but I wasn’t very disciplined and I got away from that. I’m trying to stick to a more consistent style in season 4. It is a conscious decision. I also feel like with the week-to-week nature of this project, it helps quickly set apart each poster. And, I really do love limited color palettes. Giving myself color constraints helps me figure out different ways to solve layout problems.

I’ve heard other illustrators say that Bob Odenkirk’s facial features are tricky to capture. Do you share that sentiment? Which characters are more challenging to illustrate? I do agree with that. I had a really hard time with him at first. I kind of think I have a better handle on it now, but I’m always trying to get better. I feel like if you can get his mouth right, it goes a long way.

I found Hector hard to capture both times I drew him. Mike, on the other hand, is just pure fun to draw. Jonathan Banks is so distinctive and iconic.

What’s been the most difficult poster thus far? Why was it challenging? Maybe it’s because a lot of time has gone by, but I can't think of one that stands out as having been really difficult.

Francesco Francavilla did alternate posters for some of his Breaking Bad posters. Inevitably, when artists look back at their work, they consider revising or redoing it because of a variety of reasons – their point of view has changed, their skill/style has evolved, or maybe they were never truly content with the final product. Looking back at 4 seasons worth of posters, are there any that make you want to scratch the revision itch? Yeah, more than I would care to admit. I would really like another crack at Amarillo. I know I could do a better job and that drawing is just super flat. In season two, I decided to to experiment with style and I kind of wish I hadn't. I like Cobbler, but I wish I had drawn it in my normal style. I would redraw Nailed for sure. Oh man, if I start going down this road it's not going to end well, so I'll just stop.

You mentioned earlier this season you were excited to draw Track Suit Jimmy. Who or what haven’t you drawn, that you are eager to illustrate? Howard! It bums me out to no end that I haven't drawn him, but it just hasn't worked out. And I need to include Kim more. It's kind of criminal that her face only appeared for the first time in a poster this season.

What’s your opinion of Season 4? Tell me about your favorites – episode, scene, character. I think season 4 is brilliant so far. The Kim/Jimmy relationship has deepened so much this season, and feels so real, but full of inevitable heartache. Oh, the flash-forward to Breaking Bad’s timeline was amazing. Mike doing his audit in the Madrigal warehouse. Really, anything Michael Mando does on screen. It's hard to pick. I so enjoy the deliberate pace of this show.

Where’s your favorite place to discuss the show? I honestly don’t talk about it too much online, though I lurk in a few places and read a lot. I actually discuss it mostly with my wife!

I know you get this question a lot, so let’s cover it here so folks understand: Do you have plans to sell any of this work online? I really appreciate that people like it enough to want to buy it or hang it, but I don't plan to sell the Better Call Saul posters online. I’m doing this for fun, not to make a buck off the show, and I don’t own the rights to sell it anyway.

What’s next for Matt? Do you have any other poster or illustration projects in the works? Is you band performing soon? I have several more pieces for Gallery1988 shows coming up. I’m pulling together an art show at a local brewery for whom I design all of their labels and stuff. I’m patiently waiting for a t-shirt I designed for one of my all-time favorite movies to be announced. And for the past several Octobers, I spent the month drawing a horror poster per day. I’m not sure if logistically I can do that again this year, but I’ll probably fit at least a few in. We’ll see how it goes. Sadly, with all of my illustration work, I haven’t had any time for music making, but someday I hope to get back to that!

Follow Matt: Web site / Tumblr / Twitter / Dribbble / Instagram / PosterSpy

– Interview by Shayne Bowman, Heisenberg Chronicles

#better call saul #artist interview #matt talbot #mine #heisenberg chronicles #illustration #fan art #posters #favorites #mattrobot #bcs season 4 #gallery1988 #g1988 #house industries #sign painter

92 notes · View notes

ceciliawyu · 5 years

Text

The Art Installation and The Academic Lecture:

Over Easter 2019, I was invited to Lecture at the ISPESCONGRESS 2019 hosted by Alanya Alaaddin Keykubat University. It was a wonderful experience as the conference was an intimidate gathering of about 40 academics and professors with interests and specialization in Global Sustainability as it applies to Sports, Entertainments, Performing Arts and Culture. There were international speakers as well as national speakers. It was hosted at the Asia Beach Resort and Spa, It was a fantastic Value!

Thank you to all the Professors, Directors and Lecturers that made this Easter Conference in a seaside resort in Turkey informative, laid back and authentic; connecting good hearts and sharp minds. Thank you for inviting me as a Keynote speaker to the Sustainability Culture Salon and Panel.

This is a summary of what my lecture was about:

2019 we will explore the implementation of Global Sustainability in the Context of Silk Roads 3 showing :

That beyond the concepts by UNFCC, ICH was instrumental in the Trade routes and Cultural Renaissance in human history, before any western academics defined it on a United Nations level.

Artists & Athletes are the Creators of Intangible Cultural Heritage (ICH) and historically they co-created the ideals of Silk Road 2. ICH transcends concepts of Nation State.

How the role of sports and arts can bring a universality that a cure to the rise of Far Right Neo Nazism that HINDERS the growth of Silk Road 3 Trade Routes.

Art (c) Kel1st.com & CeciliaYu.com , Photo (c) CeciliaYu.com 2019

The talk is part of an Arts Salon featuring a Light & Art Installation titled: “Kel1st & Yu : Preliminary Sketches for Silk Road 3 ”. The evolution of ICH in our East-West art experiment heralds the challenges of Silk Road 3. Kel1st & Yu is in its 6th years of development where the 6000 years old Chinese Calligraphic Art is “challenged” to consider New World Graffiti Art which is only 50 yrs old. ICH and Silk Road 3 can be explored as a microcosm via Artistic; co-creating a Visionary Global history Beyond Borders as ONE Human Race via Culture, Science and Trade.

The Location in Alanya, Turkey: I feel humbled to see the relics of past empires from Cleopatra’s (the real one) summer holiday spot to Caesar’s Roman Temple, Ottoman Empire Battle Forts to Ataturk’s legacy…the place itself is an educational venue full of Intangible Cultural Heritage (ICH). Empires rise and fall, human cultural connections are eternal. Alanya and Antalya is a place of great beauty and have so much Intangible Cultural Heritage that it was very hard to see everything in only a few days. I was honored that I was given a private session to view the Ottoman Calligraphy at the small blue Mosque by the sea. It is wonderful to see Calligraphic Art in their original settings, just as the creator intended it when he or she first designed the composition!

The Sightseeing: I Really Loved the diversity of experience in #Turkey! In one day, I breakfasted at a Sultan style Chocolatier with some amazing recipes, shopped in markets, sat on the beach watching a Volleyball game, then went to a local restaurant celebrating #Ataturk ‘s Children Day, then arranged a private view of some #ottomanempire #ottomanart calligraphy at the gorgeous little blue mosque. They were so kind to give me a dolphin Sarong to cover my hair as I forgot my scarf and turned on the crystal chandelier for me so I can take photos, then out to the Vegas style hotel strip for dinner, drinks, cocktails and late night shopping!!! I liked that the secular and the spiritual coexist here. Best of #ancient and #modern #privatebeachlife

Sunset at the private beach and pier was truly mesmerizing as I saw a young man, in silhouette, practiced his martial arts as the sun set on the hilltop castle and I took a moment to remember the rise of the Ottoman, and the fall of the Byzantine empire…..

The Private Beach Resort & Spa: As for the Gorgeous Asia Beach Resort & Spa Hotel: Special Thank you to all the Resort Technicians who hooked up my Art Light Installation till 2am!!!! Thank you for your diligence. The staff, management and the technicians were brilliant. Everything was brilliant and attentive! The Buffet was just amazing and it took me the first 2 meals to realize that apart from the Huge Buffet, I also had to try the fresh grill, the fresh bakery and the fresh omelette breakfast bar!

It was very hard to try everything because as soon as one thing finished, another part of the hotel is set up for more snack bars, food, drinks galore. We found the late night open restaurant where you can do a light soup, salads and a little bit of a hot meal useful as often after the conference was done, a few of us still had informal meetings.

So overall, thank you so much for making my stay and the conference a great success. Thank you for the wonderful staff at reception. The night manager and also all the technicians that stayed up till 2 am hooking up my art installation. Then had to get back by 7 am to do the IT for other conference keynote speakers!

It was an amazing location. Thank you to cleaning staff for making sure my minibar with free drinks and mineral water are always topped up.

I went to the spa on the very last day. They were so diligent in trying to give me the quality of massage and Turkish bath experience in spite of some language problem. I want to thank all of them. Being turned into a Human Cappucino with a Turkish Hammam coffee exfoliation rub and then a frothy Foam Bubble Bath on the luxurious and beautifully decorated Marbles inside the Hamman was very interesting! I also enjoyed the salt room to improve my breathing, organic face mask, head massage and the body massage afterwards. I was so tired, I fell asleep during my massage and woke up to fresh fruits and tea served in the relaxation area!

Similarly thank you to all at the hotel, bar, waiters at the large dining room, servers of drinks, cocktails mixologists etc …for treating us with Warmth and Graciousness understanding a Professional conference have different needs to a tourist vacation.

Thank you for showing us great hospitality and providing a good environment for Intellectual endeavors while all those on holiday were clearly enjoying their time too.

The Great Connection and Friendships built: All attendees and Keynote speakers spent time at the Gala dinner and also exchanging global ideas about sports, culture and sustainability after dinner, where we met for drinks, coffee and tea. We had a lot of fun as well like on the very last evening when we were all so tired, the sudden appearance of a White Elephant made up of Towels, made us all convulse into controllable laughter! It was one of those spontaneous moments of Joy and camaraderie! The white towel elephant will forever be the official mascot and injoke for Ispecongress 2019 by the seaside Resort! 🙂 Again, without the wonderful staff at the hotel, who made THAT WHITE elephant, we would have that brilliant bonding experience!

The Art contradictions with Kel1st, in between times: My decision to create a little fusion piece that accidentally became to official poster and central image for the entire Ispescongress had its usual art bicker with Randy Rodriguez, the artist for Kel1st. We disagreed on a number of things artistically but was pleasantly surprised by how well our “contradiction” worked together in the central image where half of his image done on textured paper contrasted with the wafer thin Chinese Calligraphy Art paper made from Rice and Skin that I favor when I am experimenting with Chinese calligraphy. When lights were shone through the materials both the texture of the darker hue and the rice paper, came out like a Ying & Yang contrast. It was interesting and completely unintended. While Kel1st is not into deviating from traditional wild style, I believe it was a pleasant surprise for him artistically. In the same way, I discovered that Ottoman Calligraphy had sword like strokes which had some resonance in the Wild style calligraphy’s use of arrows; a certain kind of call for protection. However I feel that before we explore this further, Wild style needs to get a better understanding as an art tradition for why there emerged a tendency to go towards what I joking described as “Holy excessive Arrows”! Sometimes less is more…like the ubiquitous style of Ottoman Calligraphy that “rounds” up the sword-like strokes in order to emphasize that Sacred Calligraphy are used primarily for the celebration of Divine peace. I think there are food for thoughts there for Kel1st’s Artist in order to contain his temperate least he ends up saying things about other people’s cultural traditions that are, in the heat of the moment rude, while in reality he is extremely diligent in learning about other’s calligraphic tradition in order to become a better Wild Style Master. I am not going to pretend that Kel1st did not see a healthy dose of the Cecilia’s famous temper. Even poor Professor Sebahattin got a good telling off when he tried to adjust a small piece in my art installation, imagining he was just helping to straighten it at 1am in the morning! 🙂

“Wow, Art Fascism!” said Professor S.

Me: “The only acceptable form of fascism is in the art world!”

We laughed! But unfortunately it is true… All artist are deep down, ART FASCIST! We might as well learn to laugh at ourselves! At least we created wonderful Art & educational Lecture events towards the UN Global Sustainable Development and Education Goals, so all is well in our world!

My Easter Art Installation and Lecture at ISPESCONGRESS 2019 at #PrivateBeachLife! Thanks Turkey! The Art Installation and The Academic Lecture: Over Easter 2019, I was invited to Lecture at the ISPESCONGRESS 2019 hosted by Alanya Alaaddin Keykubat University.

1 note · View note