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evildeadism · 1 year ago

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deadite 101

ash williams x f!reader

word count: 4.4k plot: reader is home alone whilst ash is at work, the night takes a turn when she is attacked by a deadite. ash comes home and fears the worst. (intended to be post aod ash but can be imagined as any era tbh!) warnings: canon typical violence and gore, descriptions of injury, hurt/comfort, angst, mentions of nsfw and nsfw jokes, fluff, soft! ash, mentions of getting high, use of petnames (its ash, what do you expect)

a/n: ash williams is my fave fictional character ever yall, like the love i have for that man is insane...anyways! hope the like 10 evil dead enjoyers on this app like this!!!

You had said goodbye to Ash in the late hours of the afternoon just before he had left for his evening shift at S-Mart. It was just like every other day, the two of you had fallen into a comfortable routine after moving in together.

Ash would work shifts at S-Mart, you would also work and the moments spent together were nothing short of bliss. Getting high at night together whilst spinning a record and the weekend lay-ins after spending the morning fucking each other was also rather heavenly. Date nights were a movie, or maybe a trip to the bar and it would normally end up with the two of you hot and heavy in the back of the delta, which would often continue in your shared bedroom at the apartment.

It may not have been a lot for some people, but for you and Ash? It was perfect. You were happy, he was happy. It was heavenly. Except, of course, for that night.

The apartment building was illuminated by dim lights as you read quietly, the wind howling outside, a few raindrops hitting the window every now and then. Quickly you threw a glance at the clock on the wall. It was 10pm, Ash would be back at any moment.

Settling your eyes back to the book, you nestled into the warm blanket that had bundled you up on the sofa, a small sigh of content slipped past your lips as you slowly sipped on the wine you had in your hand. It was the kind of cozy October nights you’d see in the movies and you couldn’t wait for Ash to get home to share the tranquil scene with him.

The sound of the door opening echoed through the apartment.

“Ash, I’m in here!” You called out without looking up, turning the page of your book.

Silence.

That was strange. He can usually never shut up when he first comes home from work, or ever for that matter.

“Ash?” You called out again.

Still no answer.

You were quiet for a moment, listening for any sign of Ash or any kind of movement. But there was nothing, the apartment was still. Eerily still.

Your eyebrows furrowed, slowly placing the book down on the coffee table beside you. An unsettling feeling pooled into your stomach. Pulling off the blanket covers, wine glass still in hand, you peered down the hallway directly at the front door. It was wide open. The light in the hallway outside of your apartment flickered erratically, but there was no one in the doorway.

Your mouth dried as you licked your lips. “Ash, I swear to god if this is some kind of joke, I will kill you” You called out again.

Silence.

Growing tired of this ridiculousness you marched to the door and slammed it shut. There was still no Ash to be seen anywhere.

“Fuck” You whispered, facing the door. The gravity of the situation hitting you all at once. Ash always begged you, practically drilled it into you to keep the door and windows locked at all times after what had happened to him at the cabin. And so you did, but you weren’t quite as careful as he was.

You hadn’t experienced what he had, didn’t have the upper hand of witnessing just how fucked up the dead could be. And of course you believed what he said had happened to him was the actual truth, his recurring nightmares, lack of a right hand and the look in his eyes as he very rarely recalled it was anything but fake.

But that was his experience not yours.

You reassured him time and time again that you were safe and always locked the doors but as time went on you had gotten sloppier, doubting the danger your boyfriend warned you of. Like tonight.

You had forgotten to lock the door after he left. And now there was someone in your house. You doubted that the villains Ash faced in that cabin those years ago were in your home but regardless, someone or something was.

The floorboards behind you squeaked ever so slightly, pulling you back to the present. At the sound your tear pricked eyes widened in horror as your breath became heavier and heavier by the second. Despite your brain screaming at you not to, slowly, oh so slowly you turned around.

A million things rushed through your mind, a murderer, thief and somewhere desperately in your mind you had hoped this was Ash pulling a stupid prank on you. But what you came face to face with was more horrifying than anything even the twisted of minds could’ve comprehended.

The person. No. Creature, in front of you looked like nothing short of a nightmare. Clothes ripped up and covered in dirt and blood, skin a pale and sickly gray peeling off and decaying in spots of blood and body matter, and the eyes? Oh the eyes, a terrifying striking white that pierced straight into you, through you. The wine glass you were holding fell through your now clammy and shaky hands, shattering into tiny pieces on the floor with a loud smash.

The, what once was a man, grinned slowly, baring its rotten and blood stained teeth. You tried to step back but your back met the door with a dull thud. A slight whimper escaped as you realized there was no clear way of escaping, not without a fight.

“No, Ashy slashy here to protect you” It spoke in a horrifyingly deep and monstrous tone, tilting its head at you, that terrifying grin still sporting its face.

Upon his words, your instincts finally kicked in, coming out of the paralysis that had held you still for so long and you instantly bolted to the left and into the kitchen, eyes immediately settling on the knife holder.

Always find a weapon first Ash had said to you once before, while giving you a cautionary 101 on killing a deadite This thing is not human, it is hardly gonna go down with just a kick in the nuts. You stretched your arm out leaping for the biggest butcher knife, fingers merely brushing the handle but the deadite was fast, too fast. A hand snaked around your calf and yanked you down with strength, your body slamming into the floor bringing the knives down with you, a large clatter to the floor. Without looking back you tried to reach for the knife closest to you on the ground but your leg was yanked harder, pulling you away from your only source of a weapon “No!” You cried out in fear.

Another hand sneaked around your other calf and the thing started to pull harder, pulling your body towards him. You screamed in terror. Panic swarming your brain, vision going foggy.

Was this it? You thought to yourself. A death so quick and so painful. Leaving your corpse here for Ash to find, another loss left for him to mourn as if his sister, ex-girlfriend and friends weren’t enough. Now at some point, you’re probably gonna go into panic mode, you won’t be able to see, hear or even think about anything except for the inevitable gruesome death that awaits you. Well, good news! Death is only inevitable if you let it be inevitable. Are you gonna go out without a fight? No! Well, maybe if you’re a pussy but if you’re anything like me, you’ll clear your head and there’ll only be one thing on your mind. Survival.

With a grunt and new found resolve you started to squirm out of its grasp fighting against its hold on you, arms reaching for the butcher knife. The deadite struggled against you as you heaved and writhed, slowly and slowly inching closer to your prize. Suddenly the deadite let go of your legs, without looking back or checking to see what it was doing you surged toward the knife until you felt something heavy on your back. With horror you realized, the deadite was crawling on top of you.

Paralyzed by fear, you stopped struggling and involuntarily started to hold your breath. Everything was a painful quiet except for the deadites' ragged breathing coming closer and closer. Does it even breathe? You thought to yourself but the thought quickly died as you felt its torso press into your back, its face slowly entering your peripheral vision, mere inches away from your face, so much so you could smell the dank repugnant smell of death and rotting rolling off of the corpse.

Slowly, as if not to disturb the deadite, you wiggled your fingers in search of the knife. Finally you brushed the handle and let out a breath of relief and victory but just as your hand gripped it, a much larger hand came down on your wrist and snapped it in the opposite direction. An ear piercing scream tore through you as waves of shock ebbed through your wrist, the deadites firm grasp still on your now limp hand as it laughed wickedly in your ear.

You shut your eyes in fear and whimpered quietly, tears rolling down your face. The deadite will corner you into a difficult position, but you can use this to your advantage, there is always a way out and if the deadite thinks it has you, its guard will be low. Now is the time to lay a blow to the sucker.

“Don’t cry, we’re just getting started'' It growled in your ear in that gravelly monstrous voice, followed by a low chuckle that sounded like the hordes of hell opening up. Gritting your teeth you prepared yourself for your attack, a guttural roar escaping you as you quickly lifted yourself up, using your working wrist and the limited body strength you had left and smacked your head into its chin.

It let go of its grasp on you and instantly your working hand grabbed the knife, you leapt to your feet, turning around to face the deadite that was staring you down, teeth bared angrily. It was pissed. But so were you.

There's only so much cat and mouse you can take before the anger starts, and that is when you know you have a fighting chance. “Let’s go, fucker” You spat at it, the monster grinned, evidently entertained by your new found courage. With an angry scream you charged at the deadite with the knife in hand. Instantly it caught you by the throat and started to squeeze, your eyes bulged out of your head in shock, desperate for breath and head turning lighter and lighter by the second.

Your vision was starting to dip and your body started to feel like it was melting away before in the corner of your eye you saw the glimmer of the knife. You looked back at the deadite with wild eyes and rammed the knife through the wrist that was held up to your throat. It screeched in response and finally dropped your neck, stumbling back.

Taking deep panicky gulps of breath, grateful to drink in the air you looked up cautiously at the deadite. Your hand ghosted over the throbbing on your neck, it was bound to be bruised soon. The deadite still had the knife embedded in its arm as it peered at you and a chill ran down your spine. In doubt, run.

You broke out into a sprint, eyes locking on the door but the deadite caught up, grabbing you forcefully by the hair and pulling you back, making you shriek in agony. It grabbed your waist and with a mighty strength, threw you down onto the shards of the broken wine glass scattered by the door. Glass shards pierced into your hands and arms catching your already injured wrist, scratching your cheek leaving a trail of crimson blood dripping down your face.

Groaning in pain you slowly shifted your body to turn around, the deadite loomed above you pulling the knife out of its arm with a sickly squelch and throwing it to the side with a heavy clang. Hand feeling around the sharp glass, body tired and in an excruciating pain you looked up with weary eyes. The deadite lunged forward.

Remember, ANYTHING can be a weapon. In one swift movement you grabbed a large shard of glass and rammed it into its neck. You grabbed another shard of glass and plunged it into its right eye. With a high pitched scream it backed away slowly, howling in pain.

Weakly, you stood up with a wince. Stumbling towards the countertop you grabbed a heavy wooden chopping board and stalked towards the deadite and with a battle cry, in one fellow swoop, knocked its head so hard, you were almost positive its head would roll off. The crack of its neck reverberated in the apartment and with a thud, its body fell to the floor motionless.

You stared down at the seemingly dead corpse, panting heavily. This one is important, trust me, the dead can play dead pretty well. You have to completely destroy the corpse, to pieces. You smashed the cutting board into the deadite again, and again, until if it wasn't for the slight remnant of a face, it didn’t even look like a body anymore.

Finally happy with your work you dropped the board onto the floor with a thick bang. You walked backwards and cradled your aching wrist, weary wide eyes never leaving the monster in front of you. And that, baby, is how you kill a deadite.

__________________________________________

Even before Ash had entered the apartment he knew something was up, he always knew when it came to the deadites, of course that didn’t mean he had quite expected the scene that layed in front of him.

His eyes widened in horror as he saw the deadite corpse lying in the hallway. He instantly rushed in, but the sound of something crunching under his shoes drew him to a halt. Confused, he looked down to find shards of glass covered in blood. Dropping his stuff right there and then he looked around the apartment frantically calling out your name. Stepping carefully around the deadite and inspecting the mush that was once a body, “Definitely dead” Ash murmured, his eyes fell on the discarded knife just a few feet away from the corpse, he swiftly picked it up, just in case. Ash called out your name again.

“Ash?” A voice quietly responded.

Ash whipped around, to find you huddled in the corner. Resisting the urge to rush over to you immediately, Ash slowly crept towards the corner you had hidden yourself in, he knew all too well that if that deadite was truly dead then there was a chance the kandarian demon had now possessed you. Despite his mind screaming to make sure you were okay, first, he had to make sure you were really, well, you.

He couldn’t quite see your face due to the dim lighting of the apartment, and the corner you had crept into was particularly dark. He very quietly said your name, slowly advancing. Finally you looked up. Your face, though streaked with blood and tears, was yours. Ash let out a breath of relief, quickly dropping the knife and instantly running to your side. Slowly he sank to your height

You looked up at him with wide eyes, full of relief. “Ash, thank god” You breathed. His eyes frantically scanned you looking for any injuries, they widened when finding your bent wrist, carefully he took hold of it and moved it towards him. You whimpered in pain. “Shh, shh, it’s okay” He said. “You’re safe”

Continuing his scan he found numerous cuts along your arms, some even with shards of glass nestled deeply into the wound. “You need to go to the hospital, baby”

“Ash,” You hoarsely whispered.

“Can you get up?”

“Ash-”

“These could get infected, we should go now”

“Ash!” You sharply called, finally gaining his attention. Ash looked up at you, eyes falling on your face, his gaze softened.

“Fuck,” He sighed, eyes tracing the cut on your face, his non-metal hand softly came up to your cheek, you nestled into his hand beyond relieved to feel his touch, to finally feel safe.

You swallowed dryly, casting your gaze behind your lover, and onto the dishevelled corpse “Is it…gone?”

Ash gently pulled your cheek back to face him, looking away from the deadite. “Yeah, It’s gone”

He sighed heavily, casting another glance behind him at the corpse. “How did it get in here?” He frantically asked. "I mean the door is always locked” Ash shook his head in confusion, turning back to you.

You looked down guiltily and gulped slowly. Fuck your throat still hurt from the deathgrip the deadite had on your neck.

Ash’s eyes narrowed at you. “The door was locked, right?”

You remained quiet, still refusing to meet his eyes. He said your name slowly, “Tell me you locked the door."

You bit your lip. “Ash, liste-”

He scoffed in disbelief, cutting you off, hand pulling away from your cheek. “You’ve gotta be shitting me”

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, still refusing to meet his eyes, instantly missing his touch on your skin.

“Why do you think I always say that crap? For fun?” He angrily asked, hand rubbing his eyes in frustration. “I say it so shit like this doesn’t happen!”

His voice grew louder and you flinched instinctively. Ash bit his tongue and shook his head regretfully. Both his hands took yours, carefully and gently held your broken wrist. “I’m sorry, I just-”

“I know, it's okay, I’m just jumpy” You said, cutting him off. “Every time I close my eyes or hear a slight noise I just think that thing is gonna come back and finish the job”

“It’s not gonna come back” He reassured you confidently.

You gave him a faint and tired smile while nodding. “You’re right anyways, I should’ve locked the door I just never y’know expected...” Your sentence died on your tongue you couldn’t even will the words out.

“I know” He responded, giving you that knowing look because of course he knew what it felt like. You looked into those brown doe eyes you had grown to love and find comfort in and felt your lip wobble ever so slightly, tears pricking at your eyes, you cast your gaze back down, not wanting to break and burst into tears.

But the tears were strong and a quiet sob escaped you.

“Hey, come on look at me” Ash said head bobbing to try and catch your eyes. You timidly looked up, and Ash swiped a tear away with his thumb. “Are you okay?”

You lifted an eyebrow at his words. “Yeah” He chuckled. “It’s a stupid question, I know” He threw his gaze behind him to the still deadite.

A faint smile played on his lip as he looked back at you. “You beat the crap out of it though”

You smiled back, sniffing ever so slightly. “Had a good teacher, I remembered all those tips”

“Damn right you did, What did you beat it with anyways?”

“A chopping board” You responded

He let out another amused chuckle. “That ought to do it”

“Well, I seem to remember someone telling me anything is a weapon”

Ash nodded proudly, “Atta girl”

You blushed softly at the endearment. Ash gave you a knowing smile, thumb slowly drawing circles on your skin. “It did, however, beat the crap out of you and there's no shame in that, I mean hey, I lost my hand to those bastards. But we need to go to the hospital”

You nodded. “I know can we, please, just sit a little, I just need a second”

He nodded timidly as the two of you sat, hands intertwined. “Hey, on the bright side I don’t seem so batshit crazy now do I?” Ash shrugged in a joking tone.

You let out a small laugh. “Ash, I’ll always think your crazy”

Ash smiled in response and the apartment fell silent again, another chill drawing down your spine. The stillness of the apartment was unsettling after the attack and you felt your heartbeat start to speed up, you needed to distract yourself before you had a full blown panic attack. You cleared your throat ever so slightly, “So, those things, that’s what you fought off back in the cabin?”

“Yeah,” Ash’s smile faltered ever so slightly.

You considered him for a moment and shook your head. “Just one of those fuckers nearly finished me off and yet you fought god knows how many and survived”

“Well, I don’t mean to brag but I am the king, sugar” Ash responded, a smug smirk appearing on his face.

You rolled your eyes playfully at him. You always knew Ash was strong, I mean physically of course he was built particularly well and from what he had told you he was a fucking god when it came to combat. But this put it in proportion, to have survived that many of those things takes something truly incredible in a person.

People would probably describe Ash as lucky for what he survived and he would most likely grunt in response and say some crap like, “Lucky? That’s one way of putting it”. Because it wasn’t luck to have lost his sister, his girlfriend and his friends all in one night. To have to live with the memory of their gruesome deaths, no, there was nothing lucky about that. Ash would never admit it because it made him feel weak but at the end of the day he was a victim and a survivor, and if survivors guilt was personified it would be personified in Ashley fucking Williams.

You peered at him slowly. “Ash?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m so sorry that happened to you, I mean, I know I’ve said it before but now that I..” Your sentence trailed off your mind still unable to process what had just happened. “You have no idea how glad and lucky I am to have met you, let alone be with you” You spoke quietly. “How glad I am that you lived, and that you’re here, with me”

Ash was never very good at being in touch with his emotions and you knew that but that didn’t mean he was immune to them, and you hadn’t noticed the slight shimmer in his eyes and the gulp of breath he took in. He blinked slowly for a while, and for one of the first times in his life he was speechless, you had hit something buried in the deep crevices of his mind and my god, did it feel strangely good. Quickly trying to recover himself he plastered on that obnoxious smirk that didn’t quite erase the gentle look in his eyes. “Hey, me too babe”

Awkwardly coughing, Ash’s eyes flickered down to your neck and his smirk dropped, jaw flexing and eyes widening again “Hey, what the fuck happened to your neck?”

Your hand flew out of his and instinctively brushed the stinging skin, you winced in pain.

“No, no” Ash pulled your hand away from your neck, taking soft grasp of it again, his eyes still focused on the blue-purple bruise forming across your neck. “Don’t touch it”

“Is it bad?” You asked, eyebrows furrowing in concern, panic rising.

Ash scoffed. “Uh, Yeah it’s bad, babe”. Noticing your worried face, he cleared his throat. “Nothing that won’t heal though, Uh don’t worry, just you know I wouldn’t recommend doing anything too strenuous with your throat”

You chuckled quietly. “Sorry, Ash, no blowjobs for a while”

Ash smiled at you but it didn’t quite meet his eyes. You cocked your head ever so slightly at him, a dirty joke that he didn't laugh at? Something was definitely up with him.

You watched him, the way his gaze lingered on your throat and wrist, the look in his eyes, it was the same look he had whenever he spoke about the cabin or his friends, his sister. You cleared your throat but the sensation made your already sore neck sting a little. “Ash, you know I’m gonna be okay, right?”

Ash lowered his head ever so slightly, ducking so he couldn’t meet your eyes. “I should have been here”

“Hey, come on that’s not fair to yourself”

He shook his head quietly.

“I mean I was the one who forgot to lock the door, you know, you were at work, as you should have been” You explained softly, his head remained hung.

“Ash, look at me” He reluctantly looked up, a tired look in his eyes. You tugged on his hand ever so slightly. “This is not the cabin, this is not your fault”

He blinked quickly, that strange sensation from earlier coming back. Ash’s thumb swept over your hand again as the two of you peered at each other. You both sat in comfortable silence for a few moments before Ash finally stood up, offering you a hand. “Right, come on my little deadite slayer, you gotta go to the hospital”

You wanted to protest, not wanting to move at all but you knew he was right. Putting your non-injured hand in his he pulled you up, all the pain rushed through your body and you let out a cry. “Woah, come on, sugar, I got you” Ash reassured, an arm hooking around your waist so you could lean in to him as the two of you started to stumble to the door.

Ash came to a halt just as the two of you reached the deadite corpse. You looked up at him quizzically and he looked back at you softly as he nervously licked his lips. “You know that I-” He cleared his throat. “That I, well-”

Ash always struggled to say I love you, but you knew.

“Yeah, I know” A big smile erupted on your face. “Me too”

Ash nervously let out a huff of air before planting a kiss on the top of your head, you smiled to yourself before the two of you continued towards the door, carefully stepping over the deadite mess.

“Y’know for future reference, the shotguns in the closet” He said.

“And you couldn't have told me that while you were giving me one of your ‘deadite 101’ lectures?”

“Now that would’ve made it to too easy for you”

You rolled your eyes playfully, as he opened the door and gently guided you through. The door shut, leaving the horror of the night behind. Ash pulled you back into him, leaning against his chest, the two of you stumbling down the hall.

“So,” You cleared your throat, “When do I get to use the chainsaw?”

“Oh you’re not ready for that yet, kid”

#ash williams #evil dead #evil dead 2 #army of darkness #ash williams x reader #slashers x reader #the evil dead #ashley williams #ash vs evil dead #horror #ash williams imagine #80s horror #horror movies #slasher x reader #slasher community

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agentoffangirling · 9 days ago

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Okay. Now that I'm all finished with The Dragon Prince s7 and FINALLY having some time for myself (I went from a theme park to a holiday to D&D for five hours in the span of three days and I'm going to another party later), I'm going to list out my pros and cons for the season. This is the pros post, I'll be doing the cons later. And yes, THERE WILL BE SPOILERS IN BOTH POSTS

In general, I'm a very big fan of finales. No matter what media it is, I always tend to like the final movie/season/book and rank it the highest. There are exceptions obviously, but overall, finales are my fave, so I already have to give s7 a point for that

I LOVED Ezran being allowed to be angry. Really and truly, I appreciated that they didn't just go the whole "forgiving" route in the beginning and took the time to show his evolution in feelings about Runaan. I dislike how the show tried to portray him in the wrong, but that's a whole 'nother can of worms. But it was a good move and I 100% support Ezran in that regard

RAYLLUM AHHHHHHHH. JANAYA AHHHHHHHH. SORVUS (even though they technically weren't confirmed AHHHHHHH)

I'm glad that Terry left Claudia. While they were always very sweet and showed the nice side of Claudia that we hardly ever got to see, this relationship was flawed from the beginning. Terry is someone who loves life in all its forms while Claudia sees it as something to be used; after Aaravos being released and her just being okay with everything he did, it was bound to happen. Good on him

Leola's last wish. I have nothing more to say on that

Them upping the violence and gore for the final season >>>>. That scene of Aaravos squishing Karim made me stare in shock that they were allowed to do that, and then the later scene of Stella straight up decapitating one of the monsters? I love it

KARIM IS DEAD DING DONG THE WITCH IS DEAD

Gren finger-spelling "Miyana" and then doing the sign for "pregnant" made me laugh. Don't know why, it just did

Runaan and Ethari reuniting with Rayla was soooo sweet

The fact that Harrow was in the bird. No words. The theory from season 1 we all thought was dead. HE WAS IN THE BIRD WE CALLED IT

It's quite interesting to me that technically, Aaravos won. He'll just return in seven years (which is nothing to him) to a world without Archdragons. Callum using dark magic to seal him away will allow him to corrupt him, and if anyone uses the Nova Blade, they're dead. It's only the calm before the storm

Overall, I enjoyed this season a lot. It's not my favorite, either season 3 or 6 takes that spot, but acceptable for a finale (although it better not be, continue the fucking saga, Netflix). I'll have my cons coming in a later post, but for now, a very well done show, it will always be loved

#the dragon prince #the dragon prince mystery of aaravos #mystery of aaravos #tdp #tdp spoilers #tdp s7 #the dragon prince spoilers #the dragon prince season 7

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seiwas · 9 months ago

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i maxxed the tags (what did i expect) but!!

what a soft piece ari 🥺 thank you for sharing this hurt/comfort piece w us!! i think satoru will always be a figure of strength—but i think it’s in part because that’s how he brands himself to be around the people he cares about. he’ll never truly share how he thinks and feels about things, will almost always downplay it really. but he’s always worrying, always aware and cautious, overthinking 🥺 and i felt that loads here!!

there’s a shipwreck stuck between your ribs ; satoru gojo

synopsis; three times satoru sees you cry, and the understanding you gain of each other from it.

word count; 4.6k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, the synopsis speaks for itself i think, copious amounts of hurt/comfort, i just think he’d be so good at comforting u :ccc, also fluff!!, he’s addicted to calling u ”baby,” satoru gojo vs human emotion (he loses)

a/n; pls ignore the fact that 90% of my gojo fics are hurt/comfort ok we dont need to get into that <33 the writing in this one might be a lil rusty but im pretty fond of this gojo :’3

dim lights, buttery popcorn, and boredom.

the senses invading his mind are mellow, coaxing, a little tedious. all he can see are the buzzing lights before him, all he can hear is the insistent chewing of the people around him, and all he can feel is just that:

boredom.

satoru stifles a yawn, resting his cheek on the heel of his palm. he’s trying to pay attention — really, he is. trying to pay attention to the movie he picked out himself, after thoughtful consideration, one he’s been looking forward to watching with you all week. he’s trying his best. but, gosh, it’s just so boring.

or maybe he just doesn’t have it in him today — with all these too-dim lights, too-loud popcorn-chewers, and the too-convoluted plot playing on the big screen in front of him. he has no idea what’s happening, anymore, what scene this is supposed to be. some sob-story? he clocked out a while ago.

so, with nothing better to do — satoru decides to savour another view.

that’s how it always goes. no matter the movie, no matter the snacks, whether you’re watching at home on the couch or a nearby movie theatre — eventually, when his eyelids begin to grow heavy, or when his attention span begins to falter, that blue-soaked gaze of his shifts. a moth to a flame, following his instincts. constantly looking over to see what kind of face you're making.

after all, your reactions are far more entertaining than any movie could ever hope to be. little sighs of exasperation, jolts and shivers down your spine, or a laughter so bubbly he can’t resist leaning in for a kiss or ten — he loves it. adores it. lives and dies by it.

so satoru turns his head, and looks at you, knowing you’ll save him from the boredom clutching at his subconscious.

and something in his chest constricts.

at first, he doesn’t notice it. hungrily lapping over the expanse of your jaw, to your cheekbones, his gaze drinking in everything he can see. scanning your eyes for a hint of emotion; and he finds it. he finds it in something that glimmers in the dim lighting of the theatre, something that has his breath drawing back to the depths of his throat.

tears.

crystalline, dew-drawn, a fresh set of tears clinging to the edge of your lash line. they’ve yet to fall, but satoru sees them — he sees them and he doesn’t know what to do.

tears.

tears?

you’re crying.

in the depths of your glassy eyes, he sees a fractured scene — playing against the scope of your iris, as the movie reflects off your pupils. there’s a turmoil there, a sadness, one that has you covering your mouth with the front of your knuckle. and you’re crying.

satoru wants to tease you. he wants to lean over and purr against the shell of your ear, poke fun at you for being so emotional. such a little baby. what else is he supposed to do?

the tricky part is that he can’t. he can’t move, can’t shape his voice into a purr, can’t even speak. he’s frozen in place like a bug trapped in amber, stuck to his seat, unable to do anything but blink at you in what he thinks might be bewilderment.

his breath hitches — and that’s all.

something about the sight of you makes him falter, makes him stop in his tracks. catches him off guard. he doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t recognize the feeling stirred deep within his chest, something discomforting and foreign. doesn’t understand why his heart feels so itchy, all of a sudden.

then your eyes meet.

and you blink. once, then twice. eyes just a little wide, an embarrassed kind of surprise. he thinks you must be flustered, and he’s proven right when your gaze flees from his.

a mingle of words clog up at the base of his throat. say something, say something, say something. but he doesn’t know what.

he wets his lips, preparing to part them, but before he can get the first syllable out you're leaning in. close. close enough that he feels your breath ghost against the shell of his ear, close enough that his heart starts skipping the way it always does when you press yourself against him like that’s where you belong.

a whisper. it’s small, hushed, a little frail. but there’s something else, too, laced together with the vowels — amusement.

”you didn’t tell me this was a sad movie.”

a pout plays at your lips, as you murmur your grievances. but then there’s that amusement; it’s there when you pull back, in the crinkle of your sparkling eyes, the curve of your smile.

and satoru’s shoulders relax. stiffened bones melting. he exhales a breath he had no idea he was holding, and his heart feels at ease. a grin finds it’s way to his lips, wide, teasing, cheshire and sweet.

he leans a little closer, bumping his head against yours. gently. ”i think you’re just sensitive, baby.”

his teasing is rewarded with a little huff, as your elbow meets his side. soft. everything you do is soft.

”oh, shut up,” you scoff. smiling. he’s so relieved that you’re smiling.

a moth to a flame, following his instincts, satoru brings you closer. an arm around your waist, pulling you into his orbit, until you’re practically sharing seats. searching for your hand — and he finds it, intertwining his long fingers with yours, just to give it a little squeeze.

(for some reason, he feels more protective than usual.)

he feels your gaze. questioning, maybe. but you melt into him quickly, with your head slumped against his shoulder, and his heart settles back into a sleepy rhythm. just watching the movie pass you by.

the dim lighting of the theatre casts a hazy shadow over your face, a tender desaturation, and his eyes stay glued to it when you aren’t looking. the smell of popcorn hangs heavy in the air, salty and buttery, warm and sweet, and he’s almost grateful to feel that familiar boredom tug at his veins.

anything is fine. anything is better than that discomfort, that irritating itch.

satoru watches the movie flicker by, scene by scene, whispering commentary into your ear and stealing your popcorn with a satisfied hum. chuckling when you whisper-shout at him to cut it out!

he tries not to think of the glittering tears at your lash line, and almost succeeds.

rain clouds, cups of chamomile, and frustration.

it seeps out into the open air, engulfing your living room in a feverish haze. thick and suffocating; the scent of heavy rain, lukewarm tea, and that ugly, ugly feeling underneath his skin.

it pulses. it itches. and oh, how it aches.

satoru hates it. he hates feeling angry, feeling upset — hates when either of those emotions are in connection to you. hates it, hates it, hates it more than anything.

he does everything he possibly can to avoid it; his eyes are keen, always have been, and he can see when that thin line he shouldn’t cross crawls a little too close for comfort. when the rubber band of your patience just snaps. he sees all your buttons, knows which ones not to push. he knows you.

and, more importantly, more than anything — nothing you do could ever make him angry at you.

(well, at least that’s what he thought.)

satoru’s anger is a fickle thing, controlled, kept under wraps. it’s a slow process; it simmers, boils, a cup of chamomile brewed too long. and then it all but invades his senses. it never gets the best of him, never, but right now he can feel it — little pinpricks against his skin, a frustration that stirs his guts and has his eyes going cold.

satoru towers over you, like this. full height on display. not slouching or draping himself over furniture, but standing tall, and proud, and menacing. he isn’t smiling, and that’s all you need to know that he’s upset with you. his eyes are layered over with discontentment.

a sigh spills from his lips, a little gruff, unmistakably annoyed. it slices the silence of the room in half, and a shiver travels down your spine. he doesn’t notice it. his voice has a rough edge to it, something firm. something that doesn’t sound like it could come out of his mouth at all.

”don’t act like such a child.”

a flinch. or maybe more like a jolt; this time, he notices, but it’s too late. he’s in too deep, boiled water licking at his ankles, pulling him down. frustration nips at his skin, and he can’t quite seem to push it away.

and you’re just so, so unaccustomed to it. unaccustomed to seeing him wear anything but a smile, unaccustomed to that cold gaze, usually nothing but warm and fond when it meets your own. this isn’t like him.

it’s not like him at all.

swallowing thickly, you do your best to calm down. but before you can make any attempt to contain it, wetness begins to gather in the corners of your eyes. pooling, little droplets yearning to fall.

satoru notices them instantly. he sees that sad glimmer, framed by the murky darkness seeping in from beyond the curtains, accompanied by the symphony of pitter patter against the windowpane. tears, much like the rain beating down outside.

and his chest goes cold.

a tiny sniffle pushes past your lips, and the dam inside you begins to break — tears tripping over your lash line, rolling down your cheeks. cascading across your pretty face. the air fills with a sense of dread, and both of you seem to be thinking the exact same thing.

(oh, fuck.)

satoru notices, belatedly, that his throat has gone dry. that his heart feels itchy, again. it itches and itches but he can’t do anything to soothe it, and your tears continue to fall.

his heart begins to crack. right down the middle, like a gash in the reflection of a puddle, right across his chest. it hurts.

an inhale, then an exhale. you’re still trying to keep it all together, grasping for control over your emotions, but it’s not going too well. the little breaths that escape your throat are shaky at best, hands trembling as you wipe the tears away with the front of your wrists. and your voice sounds a little like it’s about to crumble away.

”sorry,” you squeak, taking a step back. there’s a silent panic in the gesture, one that makes satoru want to get down on his knees. ”i’ll just — i’ll leave —”

he wants to stop you. he needs to stop you. but he does nothing, nothing at all, even as you stumble out. leaving the haunting echo of tiny sniffles and tear-stained cheeks behind you.

satoru just stands there. once again, the sight of your tears seems to render him completely helpless. useless.

and he's frustrated, honestly. frustrated by the argument, by your tears, by his own guilt. he’s so frustrated he wants to claw his eyes out. he scratches at his forearm, but it does no good. all he can think of is your frightened little expression.

(he scared you.)

satoru slumps down on the couch, head in his hands, running rough fingers through his soft hair. it’s unruly by the time he’s done, and his bottom lip is bruised with teeth marks, and everything in the world feels so meaningless. so out of tune.

(he made you cry.)

a sigh. drawn out, tinged with exhaustion, bitter and battered like the swing of a baseball bat. he feels a little like he could throw up. it’s foreign, this emotion, suffocating. how long has it been since he genuinely felt this kind of shame?

the crack in his heart grows deeper, while you’re gone. more severe. every moment you spend outside of his vision makes him falter more and more, makes his desperation grow. desperate to plead for your forgiveness, to convince you not to leave. to wipe the tears away from your cheeks, delicately, the way you deserve. but he can do nothing but sit there, useless, repeating the same old phrase inside his mind.

he’ll make it up to you.

and when you finally come back, having calmed down a bit, he does just that. you’re embarrassed, he can tell, a little meek. it makes him feel that discomforting emotion, again, that ache. the crack that only ever seems to deepen.

but he covers it all up with a smile. a little sheepish, more than a little forced, but he hopes you understand. hopes you can see his remorse, see a man who loves you, because he does.

so satoru takes you into his arms, softly, hands finding the small of your back. delicate, protective. a little whisper spilling from his lips.

”’m sorry, baby. i didn’t mean it.”

and it’s not enough. he knows it isn’t. but he does what he can — even when it just ends up clumsy, teasing, bordering on something that most would interpret as insincere. all he can do is coddle you. shower you in hugs and kisses, gifts and praises. he hands it out like candy, eager hands finding yours, everything spilling out of his chest all at once.

there’s a desperation to it that isn’t lost on you.

but it works. he’ll make it up to you; he swears. and he dotes on you until you’re too embarrassed to be sad anymore, apologizes until his throat runs dry. until he’s sure you believe him.

he brews you another cup of chamomile, stirred to perfection, warm enough to make up for the shiver he sent down your spine. the rain beating down on your windows serves as a constant reminder of his failure, and satoru does his best to ignore it. swallowing what’s left of his frustration, focusing on you.

anything to see you smile again. anything to wash away the red tint to your eyes, the puffy skin beneath them. anything to hear you laugh, to get you to feel safe around him again.

(anything to make him forget the sight of those tears rolling down your cheeks.)

panic, panic, panic.

it’s all he can feel, all he can think, the only emotion his muddled mind can cling to. he’s in pure, sincere, genuine panic, and you aren’t saying a thing. can’t bring yourself to.

arms wrapped around his waist, tightly, you hide away in the crook of his neck. clutching the fabric of his shirt, burrowing your face deeper into his warmth — and you’re not just crying.

you’re downright sobbing.

satoru knew something was off the moment you fell into his embrace, suddenly, tackling him into a hug so desperate it left him reeling. a kind of desperation he isn’t used to, from you.

he knew something was wrong.

he knew even before he heard it; your choking sobs, those shaky, heaving breaths. muffled into the cotton of his shirt, his uncertain arms around you.

they break his heart.

”hey, hey…” there’s a soothing lilt to his voice, awfully delicate. sweet like molten honey, almost enough to hide the panic. ”what’s wrong?”

satoru holds you to his chest, safe and secure, cradling you protectively. as if shielding you from the world — from whatever or whoever got you like this. as if you’d crumble into dust, otherwise.

he tries to calm down, but his mind is spinning like a broken clock, and your silence doesn’t help. you’re trying to respond; he knows you are, but you just can’t get the words out. any attempts only make you cry harder.

a shake of your head is all he gets — and it’s not much, but satoru’s learned to make a lot out of a little.

so he continues to hold you, hiding his worry, tucking his anxiety away somewhere you won’t be able to see. he curses, inwardly, grasping blindly for conclusions — for some divine guidance. how is he supposed to deal with this?

(how long has it been since he felt so very useless?)

gentle. that’s the approach he takes, finally, hiding his nervosity. he rocks you back and forth, just a little, like he’s lulling you to sleep; his warm hands finding the small of your back, the back of your head. cradling you so close you hear his rapid heartbeat by your ear.

soothing whispers. murmured into your hair, so soft they seem to melt once they slip from his tongue, all honey and devotion. affection so palpable you taste it in the air, from the breaths he exhales.

”it’s fine. i’m here, i’m here… i’ve got you.”

he doesn’t know what he’s doing, not really, but it seems to work. because you calm down, after a while, just sniffling into his neck and letting him soothe you. sobs and unstable heaves, turning into whimpers and shaky breaths. clinging to him all the while; so desperate for comfort, for him.

it makes him feel so, so desperate to protect you, to wash every single one of your worries away.

it’s unbearable, this aching desire. like a great, insatiable, unnamed something deep within the caverns of his chest, clawing at his ribcage, snarling and hissing, itching to break out so it can open its maw and devour you both.

(it’s ugly. it’s grotesque. it wants to keep you safe so badly it might kill him for it.)

a coo. sad, dripping with care, a comforting tone that he hopes you’ll find soothing. he smooths his palm down the back of your head, heavy, doting. it hurts so much to see you hurt.

”my baby….” satoru exhales, a little shaky. but he smiles, and he hopes you can hear it, hopes it’ll help mend the pain in your chest. ”what’s got you this upset, hm? you're worrying me, here…”

a broken sniffle. the guilt eats at you, gnaws at your bones, and all you can do is hide away in the crook of his neck. apologizing, your voice no more than a tremor of a breath.

”’m sorry…”

and satoru thinks his heart shatters. he can practically hear the crash, feel the broken, useless little pieces dig into his skin.

his arms travel down to your hips, steady, and he lifts you up. just for a second, just so he can plop down on the floor with you in tow — keeping you snuggled into his neck. seated on his lap with your legs around his waist, like you’re his baby koala.

”shh, it's okay,” he soothes, a grounding rumble of his chest right by your ear. he’s got you enveloped, wrapped up in his buzzing warmth, and all you can feel is him. ”you’re okay. no matter what it is, i'll take care of it, alright? you can rely on me.”

a moment passes.

satoru clears his throat. nervous, suddenly. ”you know that, right?”

all you can give him is a shaky nod, but it’s enough. he sighs, in palpable relief, still rubbing circles into your back. ”okay,” he sneaks a hand underneath your shirt, tracing little shapes into your bare skin. ”good.”

he isn’t sure how long you spend there, on the floor, entirely focused on comforting you. washing away all your sadness, with every gentle caress, every soothing murmur of there, there… every little stutter of his heartbeat next to yours.

and when you’ve finally calmed down, melting under his touch and into his skin, arms going lax around his neck — satoru takes a breath. collecting himself, so you don’t have to. acting like his heart isn’t still a mess of crushed glass.

”you okay now?” he coos, drawing absentminded hearts into the skin of your back. his voice is teasing, but warm, spilling from his tongue and into your ear. deep and smooth. ”almost gave me a heart attack, baby.”

he feels the way your grip around him tightens, just a smidge, and he hears the weak little breath you draw in. your voice is still shaky, and it makes him want to rearrange the world, stitch those broken vowels back together.

(he doesn’t like how irrational it is, this insatiable something. how it makes him want to bend the rules of the universe, just to see you smile. a dangerous temptation.)

”i’m sorry,” you croak, clinging to him like a shipwreck to a shore. ”it’s not — not a big deal, ’m just…”

satoru pulls back. just a little bit, making sure your arms and legs stay in their rightful place, curled around his neck and waist. making sure the two of you stay connected.

then he pinches your cheek.

”don’t apologize,” he quips, a playful frown on his face. soft, a vague furrow of his brows. like he’s scolding you.

it makes you wince, your eyes downcast. you look so meek. a little like a kicked puppy, glassy eyes glancing up at him in search of comfort.

satoru clicks his tongue. ”and don’t look at me like that, either.”

he boops your nose, playful, doting, and you exhale weakly. it’s small, more breath than a real laugh, but you’re almost smiling, and —

it’s a start. it’s something.

satoru coos, voice dripping with warmth, sickeningly sweet. it seeps from his fingertips when he cradles your cheek in his palm, rubbing circles into the puffy skin beneath your eyes. there’s a mirth in his own, crinkled at the edges, tucked into that blue shade, something glazed over with pure adoration.

”there’s that smile.”

he leans forward, closer, to press a kiss against the bridge of your nose, eyelashes fluttering. tickling your skin. you fall further into his embrace and he makes no move to resist, wouldn’t do it even if he physically could. even if he had the strength to let you go.

then he broaches the subject. hesitant. tactful, careful, delicate — he tries to remember how it works. how to handle something fragile. he thinks of those boxes you carried last week, little porcelain cups. heavy in his arms. he thinks of the way you jab his side with your elbow; gentle, always gentle, even though there’s never any need.

he thinks of you, and it all comes easy. that’s how it always goes.

”wanna talk about it?” he asks, softly. fingers treading through your hair, scratching softly at your scalp. it makes you melt, a little. clearing your throat.

”it’s nothing, really,” you mumble, tiny, seeking respite in the warmth that seeps from his body. speaking with a raspy voice, a hoarse throat, all tired out after crying. ”nothing big, anyway…”

a moment passes, before you continue. ”i guess it's just been a rough week,” you admit, a sigh slipping from your lips, tinged with pure exhaustion. ”just little things piling up. ’m okay now.”

a hum. satoru clears his throat.

”anything i can do?”

(please let me help.)

but you only shake your head. ”you’ve already done enough,” you assure him, leaning into his touch. ”think i just needed to get it all out, y’know?”

a beat. an itch. satoru holds you tight, a little tighter than he should. gentle, he reminds himself. but he needs you close enough to feel the flutter of your heartbeat, close enough to delude himself that you’ve merged together. closer isn’t close enough.

he gnaws at his bottom lip, teeth sinking into the flesh. pulling words out from the back of his throat, uncertain. ”i’m always here,” he settles on. ”if there’s anything you need, come straight to me. okay?”

a frown plays at your lips. you’re silent, for a while, until he hears you mumble beneath your breath.

”i don’t want to bother you so much, though…”

”— it’s not a bother.”

the words spill into the air, a little more firm than he meant to sound. but he means them.

”i’m serious. if you ever need help, with anything, come find me. i’m yours,” satoru inhales, deep, his chest moving in tune with the breath. you’re carried along with it, as if being lulled to sleep, following the steady pattern of his lungs.

then he exhales. in, and out, and with it comes a promise. ”if anyone makes you cry, i’ll get rid of them.”

he says it casually, so casually that you assume it’s a joke, a bout of breathless giggles pushing past your lips. the sound has his own curling up, and he doesn’t have the heart to correct you. has enough tact to know that this might not be the best moment to let you know that he’s honestly a little terrified of how far he’d be willing to go to keep you safe and happy.

but you’re smiling, finally, laughing. and that matters more than anything. when he closes his eyes, he thinks he can even feel the telltale signs that his heart is picking itself back up, gluing jagged shards into a shape that resembles you.

"that's scary!” you gasp, amusement bubbling up inside your throat. ”you’d go to jail for me?”

satoru huffs. ”bold of you to assume i’d get caught,” he tuts, a smug smile on his face. it makes you giggle, again, and he feels like a god.

”okay, okay,” you nose at his neck, breathing him in, strawberry lotion and laundry detergent filling your senses. ”please don’t kill anyone on my behalf, though.”

”no promises.”

”satoru…”

slowly, steadily, his heart begins to stitch itself together. it helps that you’re there, he thinks. helps that you’re pressed up against him, that you’re holding him, like he’s the safest thing in the world. like you trust him.

(the word tastes like molten honey and luscious berries, sickly-sweet on his tongue. he gulps it down hungrily.)

it’s healing. the weight of your arms around him, the breaths that brush against his neck. he holds you to keep you together, intact, to keep himself together. a shipwreck and a shore — he just isn’t sure which one of you is which. but your jagged edges fit just right with his own.

”i don’t like seeing you cry.”

you blink. gazing up at him, with a contemplative look in your eyes. it melts into something a little too close to guilt for his liking. shame.

”— but i still want you to let me see you like that.” satoru smiles, with a tilt of his head. snowy tufts of hair falling across his face. ”is that weird?”

a moment passes. then you hum.

”no,” you exhale, a little breathless. smiling, somewhat weak, but still enough to have his heart skipping a beat. ”i love that about you, satoru.”

”huh?” he gapes at you — blinking dumbly. ”love what? that i want to see you sob into my chest?”

”that you try,” you stifle a yawn, sleepily nuzzling into him, all tuckered out from crying. ”even when it makes you a little uncomfortable.”

satoru stills.

silence fills the space between you. there’s nothing more to say. his tongue isn’t really cooperating with him, anyhow — all tied up. so he leaves a kiss on the top of your head, and doesn’t say a word about the tremor running through his chest.

he hates seeing you cry. hates how powerless it makes him feel, how useless. hates the fact that he can’t always protect you from the world, from himself.

but you let him see you like that.

he thinks of your tears, crystalline and glassy, like translucent marbles on a summer shore — and sees the trust instead of the sorrow. he thinks of your tearstained face, meek and feeble, and knows it’ll always be enough to break his heart to pieces.

he thinks of you, and tells himself that it’s worth it; just as long as he gets to bring that pretty little smile back to life.

#jjk #satoru #omg i am so excited i finally got to this ari 🥹🥹 and an x times kind of fic too oh my heart!!!!!!#oh he’s soooo into you 🥺 how his gaze always gravitates towards you i am sOOO my heart is SOOO #‘lives and die by it’ PLSSS reading this is like reading it thru rose tinted glasses!!! his rose tinted glasses!! like a movie in a haze 🥹#your writing is always so incredibly descriptive ari and i love love love that because it paints the scene so so well!!#it describes his emotions so well too — the part on him watching your tears is so pretty ‘crystalline & dew-drawn’ HOW PRETTY #the way the movie reflects on your irises — i love that image so much!!!! its such a vivid picture #satoru not knowing what to do when youre near; his emotions going haywire UUUGH forever a fave concept #and WHEN HE SPEAKS WKNDJEJD I THINK URE JUST SENSITIVE BABY HELLLLLOOOOOSUSJDJISJSJS #‘everything you do is soft’ MY GOSH that’s SO CUTE #anything is better than that irritating itch :((((((( GAWSH i love him #i LOOOOOVE the little descriptors at the start and how they set the mood for the scene omg love love loce #comparing his anger to a cup of chamomile??? oh my god i LOVE that how it simmers and boils omfg ari ur mind #and an angry satoru? oh my god take me tf out LOL IDK iF I CAN TAKE THAT LMAO #slicing the silence in the room into half is an AMAZING description ari omfg #‘dont act like such a child’ MY jaw DROPPED oh my god ari if he ever said that to me id actually cry #that oh fuck is so so loud and i love love love how you described that scene ari omg its so vivid and i could feel his and the readers #emotions thru it !!! i wish i could copy paste it properly but im rdg from my phone rn so 🥲#the idea that he hurts when you hurt is sooo oh my god im such a sucker for that and i think its so true!!#because as much as youre unaccustomed to him acting this way; he’s just as unaccustomed to treating you like this too :((((#oh my god him biting his lips to death :(( everything is meaningless . out of tune :(#see a man who loves you because he does :((( WAAAAH ILL SAWB RN #:(((( it makes him want to rearrange the the world & stitch those broken vowels back together HOW PRETTY #the sheer panic he feels at you sobbing bc he just doesnt know what to do #oh god :(( he thinks of you when he wants to handle you gently :(( bc thats all u rlly are :(( gentle :((#and its insane omg how kinda crazed u can feel he is abt u too. how uve managed to write in the extent of what he’d do just for y #i love the lil banter after 🥺 how he tries to keep things lighthearted still bc thats him!! thats satoru!!!#that dialogue is so tender ‘i dont like seeing u cry but i still want you to let me see u like that’ UGH i love that #:((((( and its that act of. he doesnt like it but he’ll brave it for u!! i love that line of him knowing that itll break his heart

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reizoudesu · 1 month ago

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imagine this: (a little steamy, be warned!)

barely two seconds in and you found yourself trembling under your lover's gaze of scrutiny. you never felt so vulnerable under one's eyes before – you were not in love that day, the thought of falling for someone is a little scary.

you know how much your husband wants to have you all to himself, but he didn't want to hinder you from keeping the order and control inside the bedroom. even though he is the domineering force between the pair, he still gives you the free will.

this moment feels like a scene from a movie, but people disregard the true meaning of intimacy. where everything happens in a moment of passion and maybe a little too much of lust. every scene tells the same exact story, the same moment of excitement, until it all leads down to the deepest of eroticism. but you wanted to experience what it really feels like.

the truth.

most of your time is spent with you spread on the soft white mattress of your shared bed, laid bare with your silky complexion gleaming under the moonlit rays, as if the moon itself was bathing you in ethereal glory of the nocturnal. while the predator carefully swoops in and takes a nip of his prey, not before he covers up the marks on your neck with a kiss or a lave of his tongue, cleasing it, soothing it. the colors of the bites range from soft baby pinks to deep scarlets and purples.

just as it happens, a small connection was established, and you were too distracted to even stop it from happening. it made you wince, your body trembling even more as your grip on him tightens on cue.

"shh, i'm here... don't worry about moving. just stay right here while i handle the rest."

you gasp as he made the move, your hands finding his shoulders, a silent gaze begging to continue. it hurts, but the pain only fuels your longing to stick with him. each noise you utter as the two of you collide, each aching plea you call upon the ceiling, and each cry you heave upon your soft quivering lips matters to him just as you value the way his eyee sparkle with tenderness as he keeps you in place.

for the first time, you felt so safe into his arms, even when you're doing something scandalous.

no, your relastionship was never a scandal. you were truly in love. that's why you married him.

"allow me to ease your pain. you don't have to be strong all the time."

you are too overwhelmed to speak, tears of bliss start to make its way down your rosy cheeks like an endless waterfall. he wants to share the pain, and be one of the same. by then, your heart starts to bleed... bleeding out of pain and love, all because of him.

if ever you fall down, will he catch you, when your past love never did?

finally, he answers, planting a kiss to your aching lips, and you were free. your nails scrape at his shoulders as you collided like magnets of opposite polarities.

you prayed for him to end your suffering...

"please, make it end... set me free... love me, love me, love me–"

...and he did.

your divine, oh-so-reverent temple has been tainted, all because of his undying love pouring within you, painting the very interior until it reaches the very middle. but ecstasy's pinnacle sent you both straight into heaven, even the feeling burns like inferno itself.

what scandalous sight: jealousy wails as it sights on your perfect relationship.

genshin men, hsr men, bsd men + your faves~

this, my friends... is how i normally write steamy drabbles: keeping it implict is the best way, at least in my opinion.

also, this is the first time i've ever written a full "slight smut" one-shot in this blog...

(sorry in advance to those who are confused TwT)

©reizoudesu

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin x you #hsr #hsr x reader #hsr x you #bsd #bsd x reader #bsd x you #˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥#suggestive #slight smut #smut(?)

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matan4il · 10 months ago

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Man Suang review

Spoilers! (obviously. Also, this was written after watching the movie just once, to give my opinion as "raw" as possible)

This may seem like a weird spot to start, but I feel like I really can't review this movie properly, without pointing out that it's Moulin Rouge, except set in another country AND another genre. The latter gives it a very different feel (to a great degree, due to tone as well, MS is a serious movie, while MR, even while it does want you to care, doesn't take itself too seriously), but the basic structure of the two movies is too similar, so I have to start there.

In both cases, the movie revolves around (and gets its title from) an entertainment center, which is beautiful and alluring, but also serves as a stage for some of the uglier sides of human urges. This entertainment institution houses performers of low social status, who often also must prostitute themselves to the rich and powerful people who frequent the place. And while the whoring is pretty much built in, and no one bats an eye at it, this setting also allows for some murderous intents to surface. The plot is centered around an exceptionally beautiful and talented, lowborn entertainer, who must sell their body to get by, having aspirations to get a better life through this, and the seemingly simple guy, who is a part of their social circle at this entertainment place, who has his own aspirations, and is not as lowly, which is why he doesn't have to stoop as low as prostitution, and can offer something different. Despite the connection between them, they're both trapped in plots bigger than them, set into motion before they even met, and they have to struggle to find their way amidst all this intrigue, which moves them almost like they were pawns. By the end of the movie, there will be betrayal between the two, but also repentance, and an act of choosing each other over their initial ideal, allowing them to make decisions that are "righter" than they would have, had they not met, and ones that give them more freedom than had they simply served the initial goal they were supposed to. Through that, they gain more freedom and agency. Yet despite that, they don't end the movie being together.

Now, why do I bring this comparison up? Because while MR doesn't take itself seriously, like I said, it does want the viewer to care, and it achieves this by recognizing that they can make a mess of genres, of reality vs hallucination (hello Kylie Minogue as the Green Fairy), of time periods (soundtrack and props that have nothing to do with the year 1900), be as camp and over the top as they wanna be, but if the characters and love story are compelling, we'll all still be riveted.

And that's generally true for every movie. At the end of the day, whatever the genre, we watch first and foremost because someone made us care in some way about at least one of the characters or relationships featured in the film. My fave action movie ever works so well, not because its climax scene is so full of fists (in the middle of a lake at night in total darkness, with the very real threat of the good guy being drowned by the bad one), it hits home because this fight will actually be decided by whether the cold-blooded CIA handler, who had to train the good guy, has come to care enough about him, to be able to tell the two men apart even under these circumstances, and shoot the right person (meaning, the bad guy), saving the protagonist and countless others along the way. It's this test of their (BTW, fully platonic) relationship, that makes up the film's real climax.

So, probably my biggest issue with MS is that it seems to lose sight of that too often. It's so focused on telling us this political mystery, that it forgets at the end of the day, we're here for people and how they feel about and react to each other. The heart of the movie is the relationship between Khem (played by Apo), the entertainer forced to whore himself out, and Chat, the one guy who sees him dancing, but doesn't want just Khem's body. The parts that let their relationship breathe and develop are the best in the movie, they're the ones that feel the most authentic, interesting and impactful. They're the emotional anchor of the whole thing, and even though the movie too often neglects them, and doesn't give them enough time, they just work thanks to Mile and Apo's excellent acting, and their outstanding chemistry. Truly, it's once again a testament of how well these two fit as a team, that they're able to achieve so much, when they're giving too little breathing space for the relationship that is, at the end of the day, the very heart of the film.

The cinematography is great, though I'll admit that I was not that into the colors, I usually like vivid colors, but here they were oversaturated in a way that added a certain sense of heaviness and suffocation to my viewing experience. In a sense, it fits. Man Suang is both beautiful and ugly, alluring and repulsive. Still, I think it would have been a better choice to add the unnatural oversaturation as the ugliness unfolds. First let the viewers be seduced by the beautiful imagery and colors, only then hit them with the ugliness that all of the glitter hides. But then, the movie actually hits us with the ugly bits, with prostitution and murder, in the exposition already. Which makes me think the whole movie could have benefited from a more gradual unfolding of those parts of the entertainment world we're introduced to. Still, I will say that the parts where Khem and Chat get to know each other better, in the market, flying a kite in the field and chatting while climbed up on a tree, they don't have that oversaturation, they get to enjoy more natural lighting, and it gives these scenes a lighter feeling, which does fit. They do seem less burdened in those moments than throughout most of the film. And then the issue with this goes back to... there's just not enough of these scenes, to really give this contrast its own gravitas.

There are scenes which are redundant, they should have been cut out, like when we learn how Tubtim prefers being a whore at Man Suang than outside it. Not that her short monologue isn't touching, but let's be honest, she's not an actual character. She's a plot device, this short scene is only included to set up her change of heart, when she decides to tell Khem the truth, instead of lying. But since this doesn't give her enough depth or her own agency to become a character in her own right, and since she explains her decision to Khem anyway, it's just a waste of time, and it comes at the expense of developing the more emotionally crucial parts of the movie.

And it's not like the movie doesn't know where its emotional weight is. For example, the film's emotional climax, the moment where tensions run highest, is without a doubt the confrontation between Khem and Chat, when they accuse each other of choosing themselves and being willing to sacrifice the other one to do it. It's an effective moment, but I think it would have been so much more powerful, if we got to spend more time seeing Chat and Khem becoming increasingly more important to each other.

For that matter, the real resolution in the movie isn't to the supposed mystery of who has the secret documents and how to get them. It's the resolution of what to do with them, which is where Chat and Khem had clashed. Chat needs the documents destroyed so he and his family won't be punished (possibly killed) for his father's crime. Khem needs the documents delivered to the authorities so that he and his friend won't be punished (possibly killed) for a murder they were framed for. The real resolution of the story is when Khem chooses to burn the documents, so Chat and his family will be safe, and after he leaves, Chat saves them from the flames, and has them delivered, securing Khem's life and reward.

I really liked this part, and again, it felt lighter than the rest of the movie, giving a real sense of relief (visually as well, as there's less oversaturation, and both guys change into nicer outfits, with brighter patches of color). I also enjoyed the more complex POV they offer by the end. They both didn't want the life they were born into. Khem didn't like being of a low socio-economic status, being dependent on the good will of others. Chat didn't want to be a civil servant like his dad. As the movie ends, Khem chooses to stay at Man Suang, turning down the social mobility reward Chat was able to secure for him, while Chatra accepts a position serving his country. Seemingly, they both had to accept their predestined fate. But the fact that they get to choose it now, makes a difference. They see the good they can do, and they're not deprived of humanizing agency. The delivery of this in their dialogues is also quite lovely, with Khem talking about how each type of boat is made for very specific conditions that it must sail, while Chat brings up the fact that now, there are new types of ship, which can defy expectations, and sail in any conditions. They're both right, and they complete each other in describing the place that they ended up in. And the mutual parting, as they both "entrust" something to the care of the other, does reflect their bond.

Still, all of this would have been even more poignant, if this relationship had been given more space. As is, I feel like I even have to guess to a degree why they do care about each other, and why they do end up choosing the other's best interest over their own.

It's a bit clearer with Khem. We see him being exploited for sex, because of his beauty and grace, instead of being seen and appreciated for his talent and hard work. Chat is different. He helps Khem more than once without asking for anything in return, and Chatra also compliments him on his performance. Other than him, there's only one person who seems not to want anything from Khem, his long time friend Wan, but even he ends up betraying and being willing to kill Khem, when Wan doesn't get what he wants from his friend (revenge against all Chinese people). Once more, Chat is different. Yes, he points his revolver at Khem, but he doesn't pull the trigger, he doesn't use the leverage he has in order to force Khem to do what benefits Chat. Instead, he puts down the revolver, and tries to explain himself and his attempt to save his family.

What makes Chat like Khem? I find that a bit harder to answer, though there's a clear and real interest there, which goes beyond Chat's secret mission with the documents. He saves Khem from being discovered during their first meeting, and doesn't ask for anything in return. Chat pays attention to Khem at rehearsals, to his dancing, to his tendency of getting into trouble when not backing down at the face of bullying or injustice... So we can assume Chatra likes all of that. And then he does explicitly express his interest, when he admits to Khem he wanted them to spend that time together at the market.

Which I guess brings me to the question of... okay, so is this a love story? Their relationship is obviously vital to the story, but is it a romantic one? The movie seems to wanna leave it open to interpretation. Maybe it's my hopeless romantic streak, I do wanna see it as a love story. I think there are some hints for that. The mutual interest and liking, even at the stage when they've barely spoken to each other, the way they end up choosing each other even at the possible cost of their own life, the explicit admission from Chat that he was looking to spend time with Khem at the market even when it didn't appear to have anything to do with his secret mission, the way Chat's admission seems to not only make Khem happy, he looks shaken up, there's the kite flying scene, which is played for laughs (flying a kite is apparently Thai slang for jerking off), but still, it's a choice that the movie made, to add a layer of sexual tension there. And then there's the scene where they're trying to figure out who's the woman in red if no one was wearing red on the night they're investigating. Chat steps into the spot where the woman had been, his shirt white, and red light is projected over him. Khem stands in front of him, and they stare at each other for a moment. To me, it serves a double purpose. One is that Khem realizes Chat just handed him the solution to that part of the mystery. The other is that films often illuminate characters in red to show lust and even love. So this might also be a moment when it hits Khem that his feelings for Chat, who's been helping him, who he trusts, run deeper than he realized.

I do think Man Suang would have been braver and better if it had openly gone with the romantic interpretation. It's not just me being an incurable romantic. I also think that, much like in MR, the relationship that changes the course of the two main characters has to be a really strong one, enough for one to decide to give up his life for the other. I'm not sure that friendship quite cuts it, especially when this relationship didn't have that much time to develop (def not enough screen time, but also not enough in-story time). Was love between two men back then a simple thing to admit to? Of course not. But men did fall in love, and even acted on it. I'm not talking here full blown sex. But enough that the audience would know for sure what they feel for each other. On a local TV show, I was reminded that when the small fingers of two people, who are forbidden from any physical connect, do touch, even briefly... something that small and fleeting can still be a confession of deep love and yearning.

Another thing I wish they'd done is make more use of the unspoken tension created by one man dancing to the beat struck by another one. This was so present and delicious in the first teaser released for Mileapo's movie (before it even had a name and a script), I wish they had retained that. It's somewhat present (Khem says he danced so well, thanks to the beat Chat set for him, and then in the scene exposing Tiang, it's Chat's change in drumming that sets the stage for Khem revealing the treason through dance and song), but could have been used so much more. The play between real life and art, the connectedness or contrast between the two men when they're on the same page versus when they're not... There's so much potential for non-verbal drama, and they captured it beautifully in that teaser, so why is it almost non-existent in the film?

I also... I know that the movie is set in the 19th century, and I don't expect 21st century tolerance to be projected back onto it, but I find it hard to ignore that we have one character spew homophobic shit, Khem denying having had sex with another man, basically agreeing it's wrong, and at the same time, men exploiting other men sexually is not looked away from, it's very explicit and built into Khem's story. Each one of these things can be true in its way (there was homophobia, people did have to go with it, there was male on male exploitation alongside this homophobia), but when every explicit thing in this context is negative, while the one positive (the possible love story between Chat and Khem) remains implicit and optional at best, it feels like it unintentionally leans into the homophobic narrative. Take Brokeback Mountain for example. The environment in that movie is highly homophobic, prejudiced, rude and even violent about it. And while Jack and Ennis had a lifelong love story, they couldn't actually live it out in the open because of said homophobia. Ennis in particular would rather punch a guy, than admit Jack was the love of his life. And still, we got to see their love, we got to see that even with all of the societal hardships, it brought them warmth and comfort, and was a reason to risk a lot, even for Ennis, who was so acutely aware of the threat to their lives. I like that BBM was honest in depicting Ennis and Jack having sex, but at the end of it, even without those scenes, the love between them was enough of a counterweight, that it never felt like the movie unintentionally reinforced a negative view of what two men can have together. With MS, I feel like a homophobic casual viewer, who won't get that Chat and Khem saved each other through something that might be more than just friendship, could easily have their negative view reaffirmed.

All in all, I enjoyed MS. I loved seeing Mile and Apo acting together again, I missed that, and their chemistry is just as superb as ever. I'm not sure the movie, getting as distracted from the main relationship as it did, would have worked without their unique addition of beautiful acting and chemistry. So, I would recommend it to friends, but I guess I would also really love to see a better paced, edited and re-focused version of it. Shine, Mileapo's show that will follow in the footsteps of MS, might deliver that. I can't wait to see! ^u^

(if you're curious about any of my other Mileapo/Kinnporsche posts, you can find them here)

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pharawee · 8 months ago

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I just finished watching Love Syndrome: The Beginning and... I actually really liked what they did with the source material. It's interesting that this and the series are by the same production company and director but other than the choice of skinny jeans (someone must have been a big fan lmao) and Tuss reprising his role as Neil, the movie has a very different vibe imo.

It's also unfinished, meaning it ends on a cliffhanger with a big 'to be continued' - which probably isn't intentional seeing as they were originally aiming for a cinematic release (not to mention the sudden passing of the producer/director). I can't blame them either because I think they made the deliberate decision to mostly leave this as is to honour the director's final work:

As it is, I think the movie is a very solid piece of entertainment with some really nice acting, especially by Bix Tagon as Itt.

I've read most of the novels in the Love Syndrome universe and they're actually very same-y with the same non-con kink repeated throughout pretty much every couple's story (and there's A LOT of couples). This is why Day and Itt were never my faves (especially since the tropes really be troping with these two) and tbh I wasn't really into Long and Frank's version of them either (which isn't their fault at all - I just don't think Frank was a good fit for Itt), but Nef and Bix really make them work for me this time.

For one, there's zero romanticisation. Day is positively unhinged and there's zero doubt that Itt is the victim here. The scenes between them are incredibly brutal to watch but at the same time there's this almost stageplay-like feeling to them - as if every little piece of dialogue and acting has its place and nothing is drawn out or glossed over. I really appreciated that (as difficult as their scenes were to watch). I don't think that's easy to accomplish. I saw in some of the bts that they worked closely with either an acting coach or an intimacy coordinator (or both) throughout the filming of Day and Itt's scenes and imo it really shows. As bad as it sounds because Day is such a horrible person and Itt is straightup going through hell, theirs really were the most interesting scenes in the movie for me.

According to MDL Nef and Bix are rookie actors too so kudos to them for doing an incredible job. I hope we get to see more of them especially since Day and Itt's story is far from finished and I'd really like to see if they can pull off the transition from toxic hate to toxic love (imo it didn't work at all in the series, mostly because it started with book 3).

As for Gear and Night, they chose to almost completely sanitise their story (except for the initial bet itself) which imo was a good choice because in the novel reading about the same trope over and over again got tired real fast. Night takes Gear back relatively quickly and then they just pick up where they left off (but with Night more or less in control now).

Plus, Tiger Tanawat (who btw is a Change 2561 artist) as Night is such a mood:

I already loved Rossi as Night but dang (also, I need that shirt). 🫠

There's also some cute Four and Gus moments that unfortunately (or fortunately - seeing as how the writer of the novel also seems to have an age gap kink that's better left unmentioned 😬) gloss over most of their story. Knot, Fu and Neil kind of appear but that's about it.

I wonder - providing we ever get to see the second part of this movie - if they'll scrap the horrible Neil as the villain side plot or not because I could totally do without that. 😬😬

That being said, if you thought The Effect was difficult to stomach then you probably shouldn't watch this. Love Syndrome never hides the fact what it is about but it unfortunately doesn't offer any content warnings. Its SA scenes are explicit and realistic so if that's upsetting to you please please don't watch this. 🙏

#love syndrome the beginning #jane watches stuff #spoilers #love syndrome spoilers #i might make some character gifs later #nothing spicy bc i'm uncomfy w that in this context #but bix is just too pretty not to gif #also still trying to figure out why ming scares me and day doesn't #maybe because ming is more nuanced #while day is way more unrealistic

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phagodyke · 1 year ago

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erection monologue also ^ important context hes doing this in front of a bathroom mirror after stumbling home high from his dad's nurses flat

what ppl who hate murakami fail to understand is that he's actually fucking hilarious and reading all his work in complete sincerity means u miss all the humour he lines his narration with lmaoo

#please i cantttt #every time smth bad happens to me i think well if this was a movie it would have been low budget straight to video #not even worth discussing most likely #ik murakami sex scenes ick a lot of ppl out but theyre written so tongue in cheek that i cant ever take them seriously #i think my all time fave scene of his that hes ever written is the bit in wind up bird where the guy is at home unemployed thinking abt-#how his wife is probably going to divorce him and then he gets up and decides to make spaghetti but hes interrupted by a cold caller-#trying to instigate phone sex and hes like sorry i have to get back to my spaghetti and shes like who makes spaghetti at 10am?????#and hes like mind ur business????? i find it HYSTERICAL i dont know why lmfjfbfjxndjdbfjrnf #its too long to fit it in screenshots but its like the very first chapter I think #sorry for being a murakami enjoyer i have bad taste 😌#.diaries

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mask131 · 7 months ago

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So you want to know about Oz! (5)

Now that we looked at the MGM-continuity of movie and cartoons adaptation, I propose you in those post some adaptations that are either more in line with the original novels or... just not following either the novels or the MGM movie, and just doing their own thing. Since there is a lot of Oz adaptations, for this movie I will stay by American productions, post-1939.

First my three faves, and the rest will be under the cut.

2005's The Muppets' Wizard of Oz

This movie did quite poorly upon its release - and of all the Muppets movies, it is not considered to the best in any way. There is notable use of some old CGI that aged very poorly when it comes to the Wizard's scenes... But, not only does it have one of the most hilarious depiction of the Witches of Oz ever (what do you expect when they are played by Miss Piggy?) and some cool songs - this movie has the honor of being the most book-accurate, book-faithful adaptation of The Wizard of Oz there ever was. (Well outside of Japanese animes I'll talk about later). Yep... this Muppets parody is the closest you can get to experiencing the original novel as a movie. Crazy, right?

2011's The Witches of Oz

Originally it was released as a mini-series in two parts ; and in 2012 it was recut and edited as a single movie known as "Dorothy and the Witches of Oz" (but the single-movie version deleted a lot of scenes and segments from the complete mini-series). It tells a sort-of sequel to the Oz books (yes ALL of the Oz books), while mixing it with urban fantasy - as young real-life Dorothy, all grown-up in 2000s Oz, is depicted as the current author of Oz books, only for her to discover the fictional adventures in Oz that were written about her are real, and Oz is coming to New-York to get her...

Now... this mini-series aged VERY badly. The special effects are so cheap, most of the characters are insufferable, the plot is very weak... BUT! BUT this mini-series deserves to get some attention and to be known due to specific elements, such as, the most badass depiction of Langwidere ever ; Christopher Lloyd delightfully playing the Wizard of Oz... And the Wicked Witch of the West! This incarnation of the Witch is without a doubt one of my favorit reimaginings of the character, striking the perfect balance between the character of the original novel and the MGM Wicked Witch. Just in design she is the coolest Wicked Witch of the West there ever was. Too bad the rest of the mini-series is... quite cringe.

2017's Emerald City

Yet another proof of the "Oz curse" that plagues most of Oz adaptations - because the series got cancelled after its first season, leaving the show unfinished.

What is Emerald City? It was an Oz television series from the era of "post-Game of Thrones". Since the success of GoT, every channel and network tried to create its own dark and gritty big-budgeted high fantasy series... And "Emerald City" is what happened when Oz got caught in the trend.

People were very divided on the show (hence why it ended up cancelled) - some people adored its beginning and got tired of it by the end, others hated the first episodes but by the final ones were eagerly awaiting for the next season. On one side, most people agree that it is too much and that the show handled itself in a strange way, everything being a bit crammed-in. This TV show is actually adapting simultaneously THREE different Oz novels (The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, The Marvelous Land of Oz, Ozma of Oz), all mixed together in a new, dark, adult iteration of Oz, so yes, that's a LOT.

However the show does work out several very cool and interesting concepts, playing around with both the MGM and the novel heritages. And while the story can get a bit convoluted due to the so-many plots and subplots mixing each other in a complicated way and not giving each other enough time to breath, the visuals are 10/10. There was a real visual effort on this show that makes it entirely worth the watch, if just as an eye-candy. They literaly used GAUDI ARCHITECTURE for the Emerald City, come on, how cool is that?

And also it is one of these shows were several actually working languages were created by experts, so that's always cool. I always stand by fictional linguistics.

Now I'll go a bit quicker for these ones because else it's going to be one LONG post:

In the 1960s, there was one animated show that dominated the Ozian landscape. 1961's Tales of the Wizard of Oz.

One of the early creations of the future Rankin/Bass studios, it is a cartoon that reuses the settng and characters of "The Wonderful Wizard of Oz"... But not the plot X) Basically Dorothy and Toto end up entering Oz by... by a hole, as if she was Alice. And there she meets her companions and each episode is about them trying to have a wish granted by the Wizard of Oz, or trying to avoid the schemes of the Wicked Witch. So... it is quite a VERY loose adaptation, and the modern cartoon "Dorothy and the Wizard of Oz" is kind of a modern heir to this old cartoon.

After 114 episodes, there was an animated special created to conclude the show. Called "Return to Oz", it IS actually an adaptation of the plot and events of "The Wonderful Wizard of Oz"... But happening after all of the events of the cartoon, and thus taking a different direction in terms of set-up.

1969's The Wonderful Land of Oz

This low-budget movie was an adaptation of the second Oz book, "The Marvelous Land of Oz". There's quite a lot of interesting stories surrounding this production - from Judy Garland supposedly having been intended as the narrator, to the background actresses having appeared in nude films created by the movie's director... However the movie tend to be ignored or forgotten compared to the other 60s Land of Oz adaptation...

1960's "The Land of Oz". First episode of the second season of Shirley Temple's Storybook

This was a much more famous adaptation of "The Marvelous Land of Oz", if only because of Shriley Temple's name. Retrospectively, I should have added it in my previous Oz post because this mini-movie takes a lot of visual cues from the MGM's Wizard of Oz, such as the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman being designed after their MGM incarnation, or Glinda's outfit calling for the MGM Glinda's design.

1980's "Thanksgiving in the Land of Oz"

An animated special for Thanksgiving of the year 1980, which is - as the title says - about Dorothy going to celebrate Thanksgiving in Oz. In 1981 it was re-cut to become "Dorothy in the Land of Oz" (with most Thanksgiving references being removed so the animated short could be aired at any time of the year - which is quite a challenge since the special is ALL about Thanksgiving... Dorothy is literaly brought to Oz by a "giant green turkey ballooon", come on!)

1987's Dorothy meets Ozma of Oz

This animated middle-sized movie is an adaptation of the novel "Ozma of Oz", and remained for quite a long time the only adaptation of Ozma of Oz alongside Disney's Return to Oz.

1997's The Oz Kids

A direct-to-video cartoon series that is just what it says. We follow the adventures of the children of the various protagonists of the Oz novels. Dot and Neddie, Dorothy's children ; Bela and Boris the children of the Cowardly Lion ; Tin Boy and Scarecrow Junior ; the son of the Nome King, and more...

2007's Tin Man

Ah, Tin Man! A cult-classic a lot of people remember fondly - especially on Tumblr. This mini-series was part of the long suite of SyFy "dark sci-fi" fantasy reimaginings (2011's Neverland ; 2009's Alice, etc).

Described as an "adult steampunk reimagining" of the Wizard of Oz, it depicts the adventures of DG, a waitress of Kansas, as she gets taken by an interdimensional storm to the otherwordly "Outer Zone", and there befriends a telepathic leonine humanoid, a man who lost half of his brain, and a former cowboy-like law enforcer of the dictature a wicked witch-queen set upon the Outer Zone...

Speaking of steampunk, the last two Oz adaptations I want to talk about are...

2015's Lost in Oz

This animated show was part of Amazon Prime Video early days at producing its own content. Originally it was just a pilot episode released in 2015. Since the pilot episode proved good, it became a three-episodes mini-series in 2016. Since THIS mini-series proved good, it became a full season in 2017. And since this first season proved good, a second season was released in 2018. And then they stopped.

At first it seems that this show is just an "updated" version of The Wizard of Oz: Dorothy and her dog Toto gets transported to the Land of Oz, and must find a way to get back home while making friends and all together fighting through the many plots and scehmes dividing the land... Except that this Oz is a more modern and updated Oz filled with magi-tech, and Dorothy's companions are not exactly your traditional band... Turns out Dorothy has to team up with Ojo, here depicted as a "giant Munchkin", and a teenage witch by the name of... West. Yes, she is the (not so) wicked witch "of the west".

And thus starts a quite unique retelling of Oz where the three teenagers must face various threats taken from later Oz books: Langwidere, here West's evil aunt ; the mysterious Crooked Magician ; and Roquat, the Nome King.

And a last steampunk Oz for the road: 2018's "The Steam Engines of Oz". This Canadian animated movie is actually an adaptation of an Oz graphic novel of the same name, by Erik Hendrix and about a modernized Oz set after the events of "The Wonderful Wizard". A young mechanician of the Emerald City, Victoria, is chosen by the Good Witch of the North to help fight the ever-growing expansion and industrialization of the Emerald City, pushed by a Tin Man who became a cruel dictator of Oz...

#oz #so you want to know about oz #oz adaptations #land of oz #oz cartoons #oz series #the marvelous land of oz #ozma of oz #the wonderful wizard of oz #tin man #emerald city #the muppets' wizard of oz #the witches of oz #lost in oz #the oz kids

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beckyblah · 7 months ago

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HEY YOUR BLOG IS RLLY COOLYOU SEEM REALLY AWESOME

IF YOU WANNA DO YOU HAVE ANY TIPS OR THINGS TO CONSIDER WITH MAKING COMICS?

OK it's been long enough. It's time to answer this. It's looooong so here's a cut:

The absolute first thing I do when I'm making a comic is doodle the stupidest worst thumbnails with a fat sharpie on a sticky note. I try to keep in mind the dialogue and where that goes (about 1-2 sentences per balloon, and I try to keep the balloons to a minimum. this is a personal preference to keep things readable online. you'll see profesh comics with more dialogue all the time.)

Something to keep in mind while doodling these is the line of action that the boxes will flow through! You'll want to read (unless its a manga) from left to right, top to bottom. That means you'll want the boxes to draw the eye that way. Here's an example of what I mean that I pulled from google.

You'll also want to keep in mind where your characters are in the boxes as well! Comics follow the same principle as movies/film when it comes to crossing the 180. (aka, you'll want to keep your characters on the same side of the "screen" for every "shot") Here's a great tutorial from someone way more qualified than me!

And here's an example from Adventure Time:

In fact a LOT of comic knowledge is improved by knowledge of storyboarding and shot composition! They're really similar in a lot of ways, but comics have the freedom to switch up the size of the "shot" which is a lot of fun. I spend a ton of time looking at animation frames, movie shots, and other professional comics to see how they frame their characters and move between scenes/shots.

Here's some tips for Head Framing (something I do a lot of because i cant be assed to draw full bodies lol)

and I've DEFINITELY used this for thinking about different panels!

Lastly: READ COMICS AND SAVE YOUR FAVORITE COMIC ART! I have sooooo many references/allusions to my favorite comic art and artists in my art (if any batman fans read my comics, see if you can spot some homages to my fave ever batman panels!) Nothing replaces seeing and saving what the industry professionals are doing.

#if people want specific tips lmk - i know this was mostly about paneling and shot composition but thats bc thats what i struggle with myself #ask #comics #i can probably do something for text but im also a designer as a day job so idk whats common text-y knowledge for the beginner

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yuukimiyas · 1 year ago

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⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ sweet disposition

₊˚ෆ 1.0k words / sfw! / est. relationship / written w fem!reader in mind but can v much be read as gn!reader / proofread by my bff & word genius @/grimmjaws / super duper fluffy fluff for the dreamiest boy ever ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა

ᕱ ⑅ ᕱ a/n: this is so V self indulgent & self ship coded!! / based off one of my fave scenes from one of my fave comfort movies <33 / tyasm for bein so patient w me as i mustered up the courage to post this ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა your support means the absolute world to me! / now, w/out further ado! chloe's writing debut!

yukimiya kenyū adored you. whether it was the sound of your laugh, the way you took your coffee, or the way you looked while going on & on about your favorite author, he adored everything, no matter how big or small.

but notably, his most endeared moments were the dates the two of you shared together downtown. getting up just as the sun rose in the morning to make it to your favorite coffee shop, or walking a few blocks to the record store you now call ‘yours’, or spending some time together at the park, or maybe side-by-side, taking turns reading passages from whichever covers you’d picked up that day, while the sun’s rays elevated your eye-color to something otherworldly – those times were yukimiya’s favorites.

every date with you was no exception.

or, so he thought.

the day had started off a lot like those others. another all-day-date-turned-adventure where you’d both gotten coffee and flipped through an abundance of jazz vinyl (most of which you owned, but continued the tradition nonetheless), then left to roam the streets of a city you were so passionate about. when your footsteps came to a halt, yukimiya stuttered to a stop just in front of you, your sudden lack of movement making him turn and raise his brow.

“everything alright, darling?” his voice was smooth and sweet, every syllable coated in pure honey. the question dripped down your spine and your cheeks took on a much rosier hue as you faced him head on.

“come with me.” wearing a sickeningly sweet grin, you took the lead. you dragged yukimiya behind you for a few paces, unable to contain your excitement, until he caught up to you, footsteps in tandem. the familiar sidewalks crunched beneath your feet, then turned into blades of grass as you traveled through the park, passing by your usual spot. you lead him up a fairly steep hill, hand-in-hand, before eventually coming to a beautiful, well-loved ironwork bench.

while the body of the arrangement used to be freshly painted, it was now a weathered black, flaking heavily near the metal arms, displaying how endeared the spot was to more than just yourself.

“alright, here we are - my favorite place in the whole city.” you turned, arms outstretched & smiled so wide that yukimiya was positive there was no sight greater in the universe, one that could rival how you looked in front of him just then. he couldn’t tell if it was the way your hair was blowing in the light, autumnal breeze, or the way your small giggles & excitable expression made his chest warm, but he was filled with the obvious & irrefutable love he had for you. it didn’t matter the reason, you were ethereal in every small moment you shared together.

yukimiya thought he couldn’t possibly love anything more; more than soccer, more than modeling, more than every star in the vast sky – it was always you who proved him wrong.

you sat down, patting the empty space beside you, its cool surface an invitation. yukimiya could do nothing but oblige.

“so this is your favorite place in the entire city?” the tall, dark-haired man questioned. a soft smile was apparent on his picturesque features, and when you felt yourself staring for a little too long, you attempted to hide the blush covering your cheeks by looking forward.

“mhm. i randomly came across it one day a few years ago & have found myself drawn to it ever since. you see that roof over there? on the left? that’s the museum of natural history, one of the largest since its founding in 1869…” you continued. yukimiya watched you with rapt attention as you pointed to numerous structures and parking garages, explaining each bit of history that highlighted all of the parts that make you, well… you.

fascinated was an understatement for the striker, and he did his best to give coherent responses besides a quick ‘yeah’ & various head nods, but he just couldn’t shake it. the pounding in his chest began to drown out the outside noises of passing individuals going on jogs, talking on the phone, and walking their dogs until all he could hear was you.

“i feel like they could have done more with the layout of some of the larger structures, but hey, i’m no architect,” you joked. blushing, you raked your fingers through your hair and gave a somewhat shy chuckle at your own statement. “i’m…sorry if i bored you at all! i know hearing all of this is probably less than riveting.”

“no!” he rushed out, words overlapping the end of your statement by just a moment. “please don’t apologize. tell me more.”

just like that, your eyes lit up & another gorgeous smile adorned your delicate features before you spoke again, cautiously optimistic, “really? because i totally get it if it’s too–”

“really. please, go on.” yukimiya’s words were gentle, tone liquid and smooth as his arm snaked around your middle. he pulled you close, letting you rest your head comfortably on his chest as you began to talk again. he could listen to your saccharine voice forever & he was absolutely positive no bit of information, too dull or too bold, could deter him from thinking so.

after you exhausted all of your favorite factoids about the city & its many tall stone and brick inhabitants, the two of you fell into a comfortable, almost soothing silence. the moment stretched on for a while before you let out a whisper - one that simply could have dissipated into the wind if not for your close proximity to each other.

“i was wrong.”

“hm?” yukimiya answered with a hum, pressing a tender kiss to your temple.

“about this being my favorite place in the city,” you nuzzled into his frame as if it were humanly possible to be any closer than you currently were, “it’s my second favorite.”

“oh? why the sudden change of heart?” he inquired, his gaze never breaking away from the concrete horizon before him. he noticed it a moment later, how the city felt a little different now - more personal. it was as if every notion & bit of information you shared with him had opened up his eyes to a whole new perspective. admittedly, he was grateful for it; he cherished knowing the city better - you better.

yukimiya knew in that moment, there, with you, that nothing else could possibly elevate the airy feeling of cloud-nine that he was already on.

and then you spoke.

“because my first favorite place in the city is anywhere i’m with you.”

fin.

#yukimiya kenyū x reader #blue lock x reader #yukimiya kenyu x reader #yukimiya fluff #bllk x reader #bllk fluff #reblogs & like until your hearts content!! just no robbery of my words or layouts!! thats not cool!! ૮₍ ˶•⤙•˶ ₎ა #if i missed any warning tags or anyth pls let me know!!! but other than that!! eat your hearts out!! ꒰♡˃̶̤́ ꒳ ˂̶̤̀ ꒱#my brain had this idea for WEEKS & i'm so so happy to get it out & onto the world wide web :3 I HOPE YOU ENJOY!!!#bllk #˚ʚ♡ɞ˚kenyū #₊˚.༄ anthology!

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