#i think i have the whole scene memorized at this point

[vampibutch]

picking LINT off the SOFA????

[howtodrawyourdragon]

Does Berk think Hiccup is frivolous in Httyd 1? Maybe a little bit aloof?

Stoick tells him to stop joking around in the opening scene of the movie, after the dagons have left. "This isn't a joke, Hiccup!" He tells him. And he tells him that after his rant about how he has things to worry about, like making sure the village doesn't starve in the coming winter, Hiccup answers to with a sassy "the village could do with a little less feeding, don't you think?" Which really only manages to make Stoick even more mad.

After their first lesson in dragon training, Gobber asks the class "where did Hiccup go wrong?" and Astrid's response is "he's never where he should be." I think she means it literally. Why is Hiccup, of all people, in dragon training? Ruffnut and Tuffnut make sense. Snotlout makes sense. Even Fishlegs makes sense. (especially since Fishlegs has already shown effort by memorizing the Book of Dragons, effort Astrid clearly approves of given her shock at the twins and Snotlout disregarding Gobber's order to read the book.)

But Hiccup? Hiccup McSassyPants? Who gets told that his village could starve in the winter and answers with "well maybe they should eat less"? Who steps outside during a raid and actually causes more damage than the dragons pretending he's capturing a Night Fury? What is he doing in dragon training? That class literally ended with Hiccup almost losing his life to a Gronckle.

This is further backed up when after she has to protect both herself and Hiccup from a Deadly Nadder, which happened because Hiccup wasn't paying attention the whole time, getting them both in trouble. (Which is because he's fixating on figuring out a certain Night Fury, but they don't know that. To them, it just looks like he's annoying Gobber with meaningless questions. Why are you asking about the Night Fury? The one dragon who's single instruction is "hide and pray it doesn't find you"?) She explicitly asks him "Is this some kind of a joke to you?"

Followed up by "Our parent's war is about to become ours. Figure out which side you're on."

Once again someone questions Hiccup about how serious he takes things. But it's more than that, she's trying to give him a wake up call! Wake up, Hiccup, our parents are actually fighting a genuine war here and someday it'll be your turn! Stop making everything a joke before you get yourself or someone else killed!

Astrid actually isn't as much against Hiccup at this point as people often believe. There are actually a few points in which she eithers feels sorry for him or tries to help him in her own Astrid-y way. (And if the deleted scene hadn't been deleted, there would've been an almost friendly conversation had between the two before dragon training even starts)

Let's also not forget Hiccup's and Stoick's talk before dragon training even starts. When Stoick shows some actual vulnerability by laying his son's life in his son's and Gobber's hands when he decides to give in and let Hiccup go to dragon training while he's off on a voyage.

Hiccup tells his father "I don't wanna fight dragons!" in a tone that is rather pleading. To which is father chuckles and says to him "come on, yes you do!"

Remember in the opening, Hiccup practically makes the claim that he lives and breathes to kill dragon, it's "who he is." And now he suddenly claims he doesn't want to fight dragons at all? Can't fight them?

Stoick keeps his tone light, telling his son that he will fight dragons, don't you worry about that, Hiccup. With Hiccup doubling down that he's very extra-sure that he can't fight dragons, which makes Stoick double down in return, his levity disappearing.

"Can you not hear me?" Hiccup asks, desperate to be heard.

"This is serious, son!" Says Stoick. Which makes this three times that Hiccup is explicitly told to take something serious. (And you can just see the disbelieve or realization in Hiccup's eyes as he's once again not being listened to.)

(Followed by Stoick telling him to act like everyone else and to stop being Hiccup, which gets him, you guessed it, a sarcastic remark from Hiccup.)

We know that Hiccup changed his mind about participating in dragon training because he found out he couldn't kill Toothless. (or rather, he can't kill the scared and the defenseless, as the Red Death would later show) But Stoick doesn't know that. Berk actually seems to know very little about Hiccup and that's why they think that he's joking around at all times.

I'm willing to bet that the "disasters" he causes "every time he steps outside" aren't much of a help either. (and I wonder how many of these are actually Hiccup's fault or if Hiccup happened to be involved, so the blame is just automatically put on him.)

And this isn't a post to bash Hiccup. I love him to death, I love his sass as much as any other fan. And I am very much of the opinion that Hiccup's sass is a defense mechanism.

His feelings get hurt, so he tries to hurt someone else's back. Like when he probably feels guilty about his father worrying about the village getting through the winter, so he makes that comment about how the village could eat less to offset that guilt. (Which again, only makes Stoick angrier.) And I think the proof is in the rest of the franchise.

Hiccup sasses the most when he's 15-16, a.k.a from Httyd 1 to DoB. But by the time we see him again in RttE (chronologically) he sasses a little less and in a friendlier and more playful context, but he has also matured to deal with his negative feelings differently. RttE is, chronologically, when Stoick actually begins to consider if his son is ready to be chief. He can see how much Hiccup has matured, especially when there's such physicaly distance between them. It's the equivalent of not seeing someone over summer break or watching someone go traveling and see how much they've changed when you reunite with them.

(also, he can knock Snotlout unconscious with a single punch, I bet that helps as well.)

But it is the way Hiccup chooses to defend himself, giving sassy comments (think "Thanks, I was trying!" to Snotlout's comment about the mess he made) to either painful comments about him or actual serious statements like the ones Stoick makes that still gets him in the feels that make him seem so shallow and unserious in the eyes of Berk.

Then there is his apparent history of crying wolf. When he actually does manage to shoot down a Night Fury, his father doesn't believe him and Hiccup explicitly says "this isn't like the last few times, I mean I really actually hit it! It went down!"

When you combine all of this, you get a teenager who doesn't appear to take anybody serious, including the lives of himself and others. Terrible traits to have as a person, let alone when you're the chief's son.

Somehow, a narrative of frivolity and aloofness was build around Hiccup that he just could not escape no matter how much he tried to crawl out of it. At some point, Berk put him in a box, marked it "jokester" and Hiccup's efforts to get out of that box only grew and grew. When his efforts failed, whenever he sassed back, Berk just pushed him even deeper into that box. Not looking further into what Hiccup actually needed or was trying to say.

Do I think Berk was right? Not at all, because this is all surface-level, things Hiccup legitimately says and does to protect himself and nobody realizes this.

Toothless doesn't speak a single word to him during the Forbidden Friendship scene, yet he can get across exactly what he expects from Hiccup (mainly "keep your distance, I don't trust you enough") without being mean about it. He doesn't snap, he doesn't bare his teeth. He just gives him faces that Hiccup understands. Only growling or hissing when Hiccup passes a boundary Toothless very clearly isn't comfortable with. (or, let's say, when his feelings are hurt, like when Hiccup steps on toothless' first drawing.)

And it's because he's not mean about it that he actually makes more progress with Hiccup in half a day than Berk does his entire 15 years.

And that's sad. That's what this post is about. About how sad it is that Berk takes Hiccup at a very shallow level and decides that must be his entire self as a person.

[instantpansies]

ok so @mostlyintact and i were talking about the strengths of each of the sfth boys, and i think i was finally able to get some words out, so i thought i'd make a real post lol. a brief summary of each of their strengths, and examples of plays where those things are visible.

longish post, so i'll put it under the cut.

aj: he really shines in caesar and juliet. the narrative sort of revolves around juliet, and aj gets to really drive the story forward. his portrayal is iconic and natural and just so fun to watch. also, he's excellent in the oopsie daisy bulge, the grape depression, and priscilla's final petal: all plays in which he's got a whole lot of control over the way his characters are going, and gets some shining moments to drive the scenes forward in really compelling ways. he really reveals himself as a director and storyteller. also obviously death for a dollar, where he IS the actual narrator. to be honest, aj might be my favorite from an acting standpoint: his quick turnarounds and seemingly wild word associations and ability to grab a single piece of information and turn it into a whole story is both amazing and very similar to my own style of improv, and seeing him do it so well (even if he gets made fun of for being confused) is just. delightful. idk. his scenes where he's playing two characters at once (in grapression and oopsie daisy) might be the best of all the boys', to be honest.

sam: i think he does well when he's the center of a web of connections. his performance in, say, the evil make-a-wish kid is really fun, where the narrative is focused on him alone, but my favorites are things like the mystery of the midnight circus, the unrelenting aubergine, strange noises, or moist and magical. his characters feel more like an "everyman" in some ways, but always with a really unique personality. theyre relatable without being blank slates. excellent protagonists made better by their worlds. he takes the energy surrounding him onstage and sends it electric at the audience, using his surroundings to bring you in. it's really cool

tom: he is absolutely enamoring as certain archetypes. and he does an excellent job of making an impact with even the smallest amount of screentime. i'm always a sucker for abigail from the neighbour's under the bed--the monologue, the mannerisms--but a lot of that comes from a whole lot of overanalysis of her character, and that's not really relevant here. instead i'll say he's really really good at capturing the audience in death for a dollar, wild wet and worrisome, ballet on the battlefield, wine under the bridge, and priscilla's final petal. but tbh i could point to memorable scenes from almost every single tom character, he's so good at making his time count. his english degree comes out, ofc, which gives us those glorious tomologues, but also he can build up tension so naturally and make a silly story seem so real for a moment. sometimes that "oscar bait" moment can distract from the plot as a whole, but you don't think about it while you're watching him because he's so good at filling the space (to use a theater term).

luke: he's the absolute king of sympathetic characters. no matter how ridiculous the rest of the play is, you can always count on him adding a layer of humanity to his characters. it's easy to see in the milkman, of course, but also in divorces and teddy bears, wine under the bridge, toby's secret pocket, and the grape depression. his people are human, in ways that the others sometimes forget to be, and his storylines are impressively coherent. he seems to be the most concerned with getting the details right--sam nitpicks to get a laugh, but luke keeps track of details really really well, and does a good job of bringing in little things that make a story come together beautifully. more than anything, though, he is so good at building a character throughout a story and leaving you actually satisfied with what you got.

they each have really unique and somewhat specific strengths, but they complement each other so well. i think that's part of the appeal of sfth - they're so so comfortable with each other and find it so easy to read each other that you can tell they're having fun. it feels natural. they click, almost all the time, and even if things go off the rails they can pick up the debris from the crash and run with it. that's what i found really appealing about them--as someone who loved improv when i got to do it, it makes me wish i had friends close enough to do that with. it takes a ton of trust and a really solid relationship to do that, and i just. i just think they're neat :)

thank you so much mostlyintact, i can't come up with this sort of thing without prompting and i can't wait to see if you end up posting smth too 👀 love hyperspecific analysis

[m4tthewmurd0ck]

Tom Blyth x Actress!Reader

TBOSAS Vogue Interviews — Rachel + Tom

(next part will be you and Josh’s interview)

no descriptors other than reader being shorter than tom but i use she / her. click [HERE] for the table of contents for all things tom x actress!reader

for the interviews, rachel and tom are still paired up since they’re the leads, and you’re with josh. sorry hunter hshxhsdi. also in this tbosas has been out for a month so the cast is allowed to talk specific scenes and give “spoilers”

The first bit of the video shows short clips of some answers, but no context as to what the questions are.

“Oh that’s an easy one, my girlfriend,” Tom can’t help but smile.

Rachel playfully slaps him with the card. “I was going to say her!”

~

“Pepper jack,” Rachel shrugs.

“Maybe… maybe a sharp cheddar?” Tom laughs.

~

Tom sighs, “that was quite a hard scene to film. After each take I’d ask if she was alright at least a couple of times.”

“Honestly the games as a whole, because I missed a lot of the stunt training.”

~

THE INTERVIEW —

“Hi Vogue, I’m Rachel Zegler.”

“And I’m Tom Blyth. Today we’re here to ask each other some questions, rapid fire.”

Rachel shuffles the interview cards around. “Okay first question, what would you say was the most difficult scene to film and why? Ooh I have my answer already.”

“You go first, I’m still thinking,” Tom laughs.

“Well for me, the most difficult scenes physically were honestly… the games as a whole. I missed a lot of the stunt training so to have one of my first scenes be me running like crazy screaming for Jessup, it was pretty intense.”

Tom blushes a little. “Sort of piggy backing off of Rachel’s answer, the hardest physically I’d definitely say my scene with Josh when we’re running out of the arena. The first few takes were stopped fairly quickly because either he or I would trip. But the most difficult emotionally, the scene in the cabin with Coriolanus and Nova May.”

“Aww,” Rachel puts her hand over her heart. “That’s was so cool to watch you both but yeah I can for sure see why it would be difficult. Did you guys rehearse it a lot?”

Tom shakes his head. “Not at all actually. We ran through the lines a few times but as far as acting out the whole scene, not until we were on set and they wanted a run through. And thankfully after the third take they were satisfied. That was quite a hard scene to film. After each take I’d ask if she was alright at least a couple of times.”

Off camera, someone asks “how long have you guys been together?”

“Pretty much since we met,” Tom tries, and fails to hide his smile. “So she and Josh were actually cast on the same day in June of 2022. At that point Rachel and I had already been cast, and the 4 of us, it just so happened that we were all in London for one thing or another and we all went out to dinner that night. Knew I fancied her right away, and I wanna say it wasn’t even a couple of weeks later that I asked her to be my girlfriend. Sorry I know I went off topic. To answer your actual question, almost a year and a half.”

Tom and Rachel chat for a couple of minutes as cameras are moved around to capture different angles.

“Next question, something a lot more lighthearted. If you were a cheese, what—”

“Pepper jack,” Rachel shrugs, not elaborating.

Tom bursts out laughing. “You had that answer ready awfully quick.”

“What can I say, I’m a cheese girly.”

“I guess that’s my go. Pepper jack is a good answer by the way. I’ll go cheddar. Maybe… maybe a sharp cheddar?”

Rachel taps her chin as if considering what Tom just said. “Yeah, I could see sharp cheddar. Okay guys sorry they’re motioning behind cameras that we have to speed it up. This is rapid fire and we’ve only answered two questions, sorry!”

“Sorry guys! Okay okay next question. Who is your favorite person to run lines with? Oh that’s an easy one, my girlfriend.”

“I was gonna say her!” Rachel faces the camera. “You guys, she’s seriously the best person for that. She memorizes lines sooo fast. By the end she won’t need a script to help you and she’ll be able to still correct you if you mess up!”

“What — oh wait I’ve already asked that question,” Tom flips through the cards, “okay here we go. If you could play any other character in the film, who would you play?”

Rachel claps and points at Tom. “We were just talking about this! I’d either want to play your character because I think it would be so fun to kind of switch to the villain. Or Nova May because hello she’s a badass.”

“Do you know what, and I swear I’m not making this up, my answers are the same as yours. either Nova May because I feel like she’s the opposite of Coriolanus in a way. Or Lucy Gray because I love that even after the games, she’s stayed true to who she is and she doesn’t let Coriolanus corrupt her.”

Rachel and Tom chat again as cameras and lights are moved around. They each do 2 questions.

“Okay we’ve each got one more question. Ooh this one’s fun! You’re stuck on a deserted island for a month and can have five things with you, what do you bring? And it says people don’t count,” Rachel thinks for a moment, “you go first because I need to give this some real thought.”

“No people, okay let’s see… my phone, one of those solar power generators so I could plug things in, phone charger, a book, and mini fridge. I’m sure I could cook some things up and be able to save them for later.”

Rachel nods in approval. “I am going to copy your first three things because I think I’d go crazy not being able to at least write out my thoughts in my notes app or something, or record what’s happening on my camera. But for my last two things, a guitar now that I can play, and… oh crap this is harder than I thought. And… a surfboard! If you’re stuck on an island that’s the perfect time to pick up a new hobby.”

“I think we’re finally getting the hang of this, of course right at the end. Oh I have the last question that’s right. Let’s see… what three characters from other shows or films do you think would do well in the Hunger Games?”

“I love that question!” Rachel nearly falls out of her chair. “Definitely someone from Game of Thrones — ooh or House of the Dragon! You know what, Juliette would do really good. A bow and arrow can take you really far in the games and that’s her go-to weapon.”

Tom smiles and blushes once again at the mention of his girlfriend, or at least the character she plays.

Rachel thinks about her last two answers. “Joel Miller from The Last of Us, and Spencer Reid from Criminal Minds.”

“Why Spencer?”

“He’s a literal genius. I bet he’d be able to rig a bunch of traps that no one would suspect and he’d be able to eliminate most of the other tributes without any physical contact.”

“Ahh I didn’t think of that. Hmm also from House of the Dragon, Aemond Targaryen. He’s quite ruthless isn’t he, he’d have no problem getting rid of the other tributes. And also Clint Barton, like you said because a bow and arrow is a really good weapon to have. Also… Uhtred Ragnarsson from The Last Kingdom.”

Someone behind the camera says it’s time to wrap it up.

Tom smiles at the camera, “thank you so much for having us.”

“We hope you enjoyed watching, bye!”

TOM BLYTH x ACTRESS!READER TAGLIST —

@callsignwidow | @spencerstits | @coconut-dreamz | @daenerysqueenofhearts

[cherryblossompink303]

Patience:~The gradeschool host is the naughty type!~

➼ pairing: Kyoya Ootori x Reader ➼ summary: Tamaki gains an apprentice, but you are a little too knowledgeable on his true intentions ➼ what to expect: "Would he wait do you think?" "I think he would...when you have a look like that you find yourself to be incredibly...patient" ➼ warnings: none ➼ Part five | Part seven

When you enter the host club that day the last thing you expected to find was a literal child. Yet as you stepped through the doors to music room three there was one sat concerningly close to Tamaki and a guest. "What's going on?"

"Tamaki's got an apprentice" Kyoya recaps, eyes focussed on the scene unfolding. "How old is this...apprentice?" you hesitate to call the child that but struggled to find a better word. "Not old enough to be here" Haruhi points out.

Isn’t it a bit strange, making Shiro observe him up close like that?”

He hums, “There is a theory that people are considered more beautiful the closer they are viewed. Tamaki seems to live by that theory.” He says it like he has it memorized- which he probably does.

"Hmm is that why you always insist on sitting near me during club hours?" you joke, batting your eyelashes dramatically, to your surprise this seems to fluster Kyoya a little, or at least much as one can expect from him "I- Well- thats so i can get your consultation on things"

“You look more like the carp that swim in my pond at home. I’d never give false compliments like that!”

Both of your attention is drawn to Shiro, already running his little mouth.

“Carp?!” The guest cries out, an embarrassed blush flushing over her cheeks. Tamaki is quick to reach out and comfort her.

“Oh, don’t listen to him. He’s just a kid- you know how kids are- they can’t help but be honest.”

“Oh, Tamaki.” You cringe at his statement and sigh.

“Honest?!” She shrieks, turning herself away from Tamaki, shedding tears.

“But that’s just his opinion! I wouldn’t say you look like a carp, and even if you did, you’d be the most beautiful carp of them all!” Tamaki tries his hardest to console his guest, but it only results in further insulting.

“So I am a carp!?” She gasps, shrieking once more. You have half a mind to cover your ears but only wince.

Tamaki, dumbfounded, “Uh, no, that’s not what I meant.” He sweats.

“Tamaki, you’re an idiot!” An all too familiar phrase.

“No, wait! Mermaid Princess!” Tamaki reaches for her, desperate.

Blank-faced, Shiro stands beside him, “Man, what a crybaby.” He scoffs, utterly unfazed by the whole ordeal.

Tamaki peeks at him over his shoulder, his eyes narrowed, and teeth bared, growling animalistically. How could such a young child have lost him a guest already?

Hikaru snickers, “So how’s it going, boss?! That’s an adorable little apprentice you’ve got there.” He finds it hard to withhold his laughter.

“Hikaru…” Hikaru’s attention only diverges when he hears his twin’s whining voice.

“Do you wish you had a little brother like Shiro?” In a split second, invisible to the naked eye, Hikaru sweeps Kaoru up in a tender embrace, cradling him against his body.

“Don’t be silly. I could search the globe, and I’d never find a better brother than you, Kaoru.” Hikaru presses his lips to the top of Kaoru’s head.

“Hikaru.” Kaoru lets out in a breathy moan, his eyes hooded in his brother’s embrace.

Two patrons pop up over their shoulder, “Look! They’re doing it!”

“It’s forbidden, brotherly love!”

Shiro stumbles back, grips the table, “They’re homos! And they’re brothers! That makes this totally ‘insectuous’!” He grips his grade school uniform tightly with his other hand.

You appear behind him, “I think what you meant to say was incestuous.” You nod firmly.

Before he has a chance to reply, Shiro is firmly embraced by Honey.

“Hey, Shiro-chan! You wanna have a piece of cake with me? We’ve got three kinds: chocolate, strawberry, and lime.” Honey dangles from Shiro’s shoulders, roughly similar in size.

Shiro roughly shoves him off, “Hey, back off! What grade are you in, anyway?! Why are you wearing a high school uniform?” Shiro nearly shouts, irritated to no end.

A large shadow casts over them, “Something wrong, Mitsukuni?”

Shiro looks up, and, to his horror, Mori stands before them.

Honey leaps toward Mori and wraps himself around him. “That’s not fair! A little kid like you isn’t supposed to have a cool, older friend like him!”

Truthfully, both are in the same class.

Shiro backpedals a little, unintentionally bumping into your leg, wipping around to stare up at you in shock. He stares at you for a moment as if analysing you, eyes landing on your pile of notes about the host club tucked under your arm.

"Are you some sort of super fan for these weirdo's or something"

Your jaw drops, what is intended to be a laugh instead comes out as a scoff, resisiting the urge to ball up your fists at a child. Kyoya's gaze frantically darts between the two of you, nerves rising as he recalls how you felt when your position was dismissed not too long ago by renge.

You let out a shaky breath, turning to look up to Kyoya "I can't deal with him, don't make me" you plead "You deal with them everyday" he nods to the other club members. You sigh, knowing he had you cornered.

“Okay, that’s enough! I think Shiro should take care of the tea for us, don’t you?” tamaki interrupts, nervously handing a tea tray to you to give to Shiro.

"Fine, but watch out it's heavy" you conceded, leaning down a little to offer the tray to him, which for a moment he seems to accept, wrapping his hands around the handles, however as soon as you let go the tea tray falls to the floor, shattering what is easily upwards of sis figures worth of ceramic.

"It’s not my fault I dropped it. It’s your fault 'cause you’re the one who made me take it in the first place.”

You quite nearly lost it at that one, about to lunge at the kid.

Before you can make any move, Kyoya wraps his arm around your torso and tugs you back, his strength preventing you from moving. You grunt and squirm, eager to give Shiro a piece of your mind.

“That’s enough, y/n, if you're charged with assault you'll never gain citizenship and you would have to go home” his reasoning, although dramatic, is clear. You slump in his arms and let your features go blank with a deep sigh.

“I’m not here to carry tea sets- I’m here to learn how to make women happy!” Shiro’s voice has reduced to nothing but a whiny, high-pitched tone to your ears.

“You won’t get anywhere with that attitude. And I am not going to let you disrespect y/n. So!” Tamaki points his index finger in Shiro’s direction determinedly. “Put this brat in isolation!”

More than eager to comply, the twins are at his side, “You got it, boss!”

An iron cage falls from the ceiling on chains and traps Shiro where he stands. “What’s going on here?! Why’d you put me in a cage all of a sudden?!”

“Yeah, and where’d it come from? This is supposed to be a music room, right?” Haruhi questions aloud, tilting her head at the cage.

Shiro climbs onto the bars of the cage, “This is no way to treat your loyal apprentice. Now let me out of this cage!” He demands irritatedly.

“Not until you’ve learned your lesson. I made you my apprentice because I thought you were serious about becoming a host, but I guess I was wrong.” Tamaki sighs woefully, intending to draw a reaction from the grade school student.

“I am serious. Totally serious.” When Tamaki refuses to reply, unconvinced and sipping his tea, Shiro falls desperate.

“I want you to teach me how to make a woman happy!”

Still, nothing. No one is convinced. Especially not you as you sit near Kyoya on a love seat, boredly flipping the pages of a nearby book as he writes adjacent to you.

With a defeated cry, Shiro falls to his knees, gripping the bars tightly between his fists. This draws your head up to glance at him.

“I’m gonna run out of time. Please, won’t you teach me?” his tone is no longer demanding, only forlorn and pleading.

“You’re a host because you like girls. You like bringing a smile to a girl’s face- that’s why you do it, right?”

Shiro’s pleading manages to draw Tamaki’s attention, only earning a side glance.

“Please, won’t you teach me how to be like you? You’re a genius at it! You’re the king!”

You look at tamaki, knowing that all anyone has to do was say the K word to convince him.

The titles Shiro’s given to Tamaki in his desperation calls the aforementioned king to his feet. He feels a sudden urge to teach him again; God could only know why.

“Well, you may be a brat, but I admire your desire to become a host, so I’ll teach you.”

This draws no reaction from Shiro.

“You know, Shiro, you and I are so much alike.” Tamaki wraps himself in his own arms.

Haruhi appears, “You poor kid.” You snicker at that.

Shiro straightens immediately, a smile stretched across his cheeks, “Then you’ll help me become the kind of host that can make any woman happy?!” his tone is hopeful.

“Of course, making women happy is the sole purpose of being a host. If this is what you really want, Shiro, then you have to figure out how to use the material you already have.”

“What does that mean?”

At the opposite end of Shiro’s cell, Kyoya appears. Shiro stands with his back pressed to the bars in sheer terror at his appearance.

“You see, here at the Ouran Host Club, our policy is to use our individual personality traits to meet the needs of our guests. For example, there’s Tamaki, who is the princely type.” he nods over to the leader who is staring wistfully out of a window.

"the strong, silent type" he nods over to mori, who is holding up honey on his shoulders. "The boy lolita type" The twins soon slide in , attempting to steal the attention

"The little devil type" you attempt to hold back a laugh at the name, fogetting that was the label that had been given to the two of them. "And the cool type"

You once again look up to Kyoya, forgetting that he had a host type at all, he rarely ever actually saw clients. But then again he definitely fit the bill.

It makes you wonder what he would be like if he ever dropped the persona. All of the hosts had personas they played up during club hours, you knew that, but even when there were group hang outs with no clients, his never drops, maybe he relaxes a little, but theres always that wall.

It makes you wonder how much you know about him at all, what do you know about him that wasn't curated for your perception.

"It’s all about variety. And now our group is complete with the addition of Haruhi, the natural."

The complete host club stands in front of Shiro’s cell, “It would seem that right now we have a perfect blend of characteristics, so it’s going to be difficult to find a new type for Shiro.”

While you stand off in the distance behind them, watching from afar. It hasn’t been much different from this before, but when you notice it, it feels a bit difficult. You fold your hands behind you and hang your head. It’s not like this isn’t expected.

“If you go by his age, he should be the boy Lolita type.”

“But Honey-Senpai’s already got that covered.”

Tears streaking down his cheeks like a river, Honey turns to the club, “Is he gonna replace me?” he sniffles.

“Oh, come on! Is that all you’ve got?”

Your head snaps up at the unbodied voice. But when it clicks in your mind, all you can do is groan and fall clumsily onto the sofa behind you.

A powerful motor rumbles under the floor and shakes the ground. Renge rises on a platform as she does.

Renge sighs pensively, “Sorry to interrupt, gentlemen, but what’s with the lackluster character analysis? I must say, I’m quite disappointed. I thought I taught you better.” she shrugs.

You laugh to yourself looking at the two of them, he brought this on himself.

“Alright then. How would you work Shiro into our collection of characters? He can’t be the boy Lolita because Honey’s already got that covered.” Tamaki lifts a sobbing Honey by his underarms to present him to Renge.

“You just don’t get it, do you? Now listen up! There are plenty of girls out there who have a thing for younger boys or boys with baby faces. These girls would be considered shota fans. Now, shota can be a fairly broad category, so it’s important to know that the genre can be broken down into many different smaller sub-categories. For example, shota fans with an interest in Lolita boys would favor a boy like Haninozuka-Senpai.”

Kyoya’s pen moves furiously quick to record every word Renge says.

“But this little boy is different. If I had to pick a character for him… Yes! He’d be the naughty-boy type, without a doubt!” Renge’s smirk and determined gaze ought to terrify Shiro further.

“The naughty type?” He inquires curiously.

The cage rises off the ground and back into the ceiling.

“Now, to play up the naughty type, you have to wear shorts.” Renge crouches and points to Shiro’s uniform shorts, nodding, “Okay.”

She blasts her whistle again, “You’ve gotta have bumps and bruises! Give him a couple of scars!”

The twins are hunched by Shiro, covering him in bandages and marking him up with a pen.

The whistle, again.

“Run like a spoiled child! Make it reckless!” Shiro sprints on command.

“Now I want you to trip and make it big!”

Shiro’s foot catches on a taut rope with a yell, and he crashes to the ground with a loud thud, face first.

Renge bends near Shiro, her eyebrows furrowed, “Are you okay, little boy?” The character doesn’t last long; she blows once more on her whistle. “Now give them your catchphrase!”

Shiro wipes his cheek with a far-off look in his eyes, “No big deal, it was nothin’.”

Renge coos, “That was perfect! Absolutely perfect, Shiro!” She gushes.

Tamaki claps his hands together gently, “That was outstanding. I never knew you were such a great coach, Renge.”

Renge laughs haughtily.

“Oh, I never knew you were such a great coach, Renge.” Your face scrunches as you mock Tamaki, reaching for the teacup and saucer before you and taking a long sip.

Shiro stumbles to his feet, an alarmed expression crossing his features.

“Ugh, I’ve had enough of you people!” He captures everyone’s attention, including yours. You set your cup and saucer down as you observe.

Shiro practically shakes with frustration, “This is so stupid- none of this is ever gonna help me make her happy!”

You can see the panic in his eyes; you stand, head tilting, “Her?”

Shiro breaks into a run for the door.

“Shiro!” You call.

Oh. It all makes sense now, how did you not realise sooner.

“Wait, Shiro! We haven’t taught you how to apply the techniques you’ve learned yet!”

The door slams, and he’s gone. Your shoulders drop. Renge climbs back onto her platform, descending into the floor.

Much to your absolute delight.

“I swear, younger boys are good for nothing. I went to all that trouble to coach him, and he quits.”

“I can’t believe he ditched us because he didn’t like the lesson. What a selfish little brat.”

“There aren’t many people who’d enjoy that kind of lesson. But never mind that, did you hear what he said?”

You roll your eyes "You call yourself romantic experts, don't you see? didn't you hear what he said? This is about a girl!"

They stare back at you blankly, heads tilting to the side.

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“How… on earth… did we let them talk us into this?” You grumble, picking at your skirt. Haruhi crosses her arms adjacent to you.

“It’ll be okay, y/n-chan. It was so easy to sneak in, and wearing this uniform, I really look like I’m in elementary school.” Honey peeks around the corner, dressed in a grade school uniform.

You and Haruhi, respectively, are dressed in middle school girls’ uniforms. Haruhi wears a darkly colored wig, and your hair is styled neatly straight, clip-on bangs secured to your hairline on the center of your head. They nearly cover your eyebrows, two longer pieces framing your eyes. You look exponentially younger, it reminds you of when you first arrived in Japan.

“Yeah, you do. I understand why they wanted you to wear an elementary school uniform. I mean, we are sneaking into an elementary school, and you totally fit in, Senpai.”

You and Haruhi stand on the opposite side of the doorway, Haruhi leaning on your shoulders.

“What I don’t understand is why they made us dress up in middle school uniforms,” Haruhi grumbles.

"Why did we even bother with disguises? We stick out like a sore thumb!” You growl in a harsh whisper, the outfits not really doing much for your heights.

A pair of doors creak open as the remains of the host club observe the three of you.

“Oh, there’s a reason, a damn good reason,” Tamaki assures, more to himself than anything, adding to his slight delusion of having completely protective intentions.

“This way, Haru-chan and y/n-chan!” Honey exclaims cheerfully, wrapping his arm around your own, as you, in turn, wrap your arm around Haruhi’s. The three of you trail along in a chain, you and Haruhi in your miniskirts that both of you try not to pay attention to.

“Aren’t they the cutest?” the twins exclaim.

“Oh, look at her in that miniskirt. Haruhi looks like a little doll!” Tamaki sighs.

Kyoya takes a moment to glance up from his book, catching you in the uniform as well. He can feel his lips tug upward, although the darkness shields his face, and that helps a little. You look youthful and optimistic, something he hasn’t noticed from you in a long while, it reminded him of when the two of you first met.

He quickly caught that he was smiling, and he was smiling because you were seemingly happy. it was strange to him, well-it's not like he wasnts to see you miserable- but why was he getting happy that you were happy?

Maybe it was because you were his fiance and he has a level of responsibility for you, but that is strictly business, he has to remind himself that now. He could not understand. What was this feeling?

He doesn’t stay silent for long. “So basically, you just wanted to see her dressed up like that.” he accuses with a sly smirk.

“A fair reason, of course.” Kyoya nods to himself.

Honey pries open the door to a classroom, “This is it. Shiro-chan’s classroom.” He creaks it open enough to fit inside. “When I was in elementary school, this was my classroom too!” he glides between desks excitedly.

You and Haruhi enter shortly after, marveling at the size of a mere elementary school classroom.

You place a hand on an empty desk, “There’s nobody here.” you acknowledge aloud.

The club appears. “So the kid’s classroom is empty, is it?”

The twins are the first to arrive, “This sure takes me back.” They chorus, striding in casually with their hands tucked into their pockets.

“I wonder if doodles are still on my desk.”

“Doubtful, the school changes out the desks every year.” Kyoya voices from behind them.

“Let’s check out the cafeteria after this.”

“I wanna see the old gym.”

“Good idea, Kaoru!”

You roll your eyes as you realise the true reason why you were in uniform “Hey! If you’re just gonna barge in here like that, then why’d we wear these stupid disguises?” You whine.

“Don’t worry about it.” Hikaru shrugs, his brother mirroring him.“There’s no one in here to catch us.” Kaoru informs.

“That’s my point!” you deadpan.

“And besides, who wouldn’t want to see you in this adorable little uniform?” Kyoya tugs at your collar gently and playfully, kknowing that you probably hated everything about this situation.

“Of course you only compliment me when I am seething" Kyoya casts his eyes down, “I think you look fine.” He shrugs.“Ah, I can see straight through your little 'disguise’ plan, mister, I-”

Suddenly, footsteps echo in the hall outside. None of you miss it.

You grab Kyoya by his wrist and yank him down under a desk along with you. The other hosts duck in nearby desks with gasps.

What you didn't consider was that it is tight fit for even one person never mind two, resulting in you and Kyoya being closer than ever. Physically that is.

“If the teacher finds us-”

“-we’ll have a hard time explaining why we snuck in.” the twins voice their concerns.

"Shut up" you whisper yell from across the underside of the desks Kyoya smirks "mad are we-" You press a finger to his lips and give him a stern glare, “You’re not very good at being quiet.” your voice is considerably quieter than his.

His eyes move down to your finger upon his lips, and so do yours. The two of you realising what exactly you were doing with a delay. blood rushing to both of your faces.

What happened next was peculiar to you, because it was not something you could describe. Suddenly you can feel you're heart thudding against your chest, your eyes lock as you feel yours almost melt in a way. Your mouth hangs open as if something is on the tip of your tongue but at the same time you can't form any thought of a word.

You linger for a moment before you notice the footsteps receding, breaking the sort of trance that held the two of you, your finger falls from his lips and your head snaps to the door. You quickly escape from your compromising position and head for the door.

The club groans exasperatedly as you peek out to watch the teacher turning the corner with no indication of catching the lot of you.

In your normal voice, “It’s alright, he’s gone. But you guys, we came here to get the scoop on Shiro, so what do you think we should do now?” You direct them back to the task at hand as they climb from their desks.

Kyoya’s migrated to the other side of the room, where pictures are pinned to the wall along with Honey.

“Well, here’s something interesting.” he captures the club’s and your attention. You stride to stand near them, “What’d you find?”

Kyoya points to a picture of Shiro at a piano with a girl his age, looking cheerful.

A look you had only seen on him once, however you quickly realised that wasn't the only time you had seen that look today.

“Hey, that’s Shiro!” You smile, stepping closer and craning your neck upwards to get a closer look.

“So he’s in the Classical Music Club.” Kyoya acknowledges.

“He looks like he’s enjoying himself. It’s nice to see him with a smile on his face. I had no idea he could look so sweet.” You hum, finding great comfort in knowing he’s in a club that makes him happy. Or, at least with someone that evokes that feeling.

Tamaki takes a moment longer to gaze at the photo.

“Yeah.”

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You all find yourselves watching Shiro through a window in the room where the Classical Music Club congregates. He sits wistfully at a large window, far from the other children, peering out of the glass as he balances himself on the ledge.

“There he is! There’s Shiro-chan!” Honey gasps.

He looks pensive, thoughtful. Someone would say almost grumpy but the best word you could place for it was forlorn.

“Excuse me, Takaoji?” the calling of his name only earns a side glance.

“I’m sorry, but have you been practicing the new piece teacher gave us?”

“The new piece? Not really.”

“If you want, I can show it to you. Do you wanna come play it with me?”

“No thanks, you go ahead. After all, there’s only one grand piano. You should use it, Kamishiro.”

The girl stares at him a moment, a little disappointed, before shrugging it off with a smile, “Thank you! I will then! And if you want to join me, just let me know.” She hints.

As she begins to play, a soft smile stretches across Shiro’s face, and his eyes slip shut.

You and the club look on with intense curiosity. Although, Tamaki’s expression is solemn.

Just at that moment, a girl leaves the music room and is immediately approached by Tamaki.

“Pardon me, mademoiselle.” He offers her a white rose, “I’ve never seen a rose more lovely than you, my dear. Here, this is for you.” Tamaki’s ever-charming tactics prompt the girl into answering his questions.

“I was wondering if you could tell me anything about that young lady playing the piano. Do you know her?” his voice is gentle.

“That’s Hina Kamishiro.”

“Her name is Hina?” Tamaki clarifies.

“That’s right, but you better not fall in love with her.”

What a strange thing to say, especially for an elementary school girl.

Tamaki pushes further, “Why?”

“Didn’t you know? Hina has to move away soon. Her dad just got a new job in Germany, so they have to move there at the end of the week-”

“What do you think you’re doing?!”

Everyone’s attention is drawn to an enraged Shiro, practically shaking with fury.

“I want you idiots to leave immediately!” He orders.

Tamaki decides he’s had enough of Shiro’s ungrateful attitude and his mysterious motives.

With his blonde fringe covering his eyes, he lifts Shiro off the ground and hauls him over his shoulder with little effort, not even blinking an eye.

“Put me down! What are you doing?!”

Much to Shiro’s dismay, Hina peeks out from the music room to watch this embarrassing display.

The rest of the club follows in suit, “Let me go! Just put me down! Where do you think-”

“It’s time to go, guys. Quit thrashing around.” Despite the circumstances, Tamaki’s tone is relaxed and unfazed.

As the group returns to the club room, Tamaki tosses Shiro down on the nearest sofa, the room shrouded in darkness.

Shiro grunts at the impact and promptly sits up, “What is your problem you, big idiot?!”

His fringe still covering his eyes, Tamaki turns to you and gestures to Shiro. You nod.

“I’m sorry, but you’re the idiot.” Shiro instantly shuts his mouth, staring at you with wide eyes.

“You said that you wanted Tamaki to teach you how to make women happy. But that’s not what you wanted, is it?” You point an accusing finger close to his chest.

“You don’t want to make all women happy; you’re concerned with the happiness of one woman in particular. She’s the only one you care about, Hina Kamishiro.”

“But I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do to help you with that, Shiro.” you let your fingers drag across his chin before receding and allowing Tamaki to step in.

“Listen, Shiro. I know that I told you, it’s the job of a host to make women happy. But when you care for someone, you must find the courage to express what is in your heart. You have to tell her how you feel about her!”

“You didn’t come to me looking to become a full-fledged host. You want to be a full-fledged man.”

Shiro leans forward and hangs his head, placing his hands over his knees, “It doesn’t matter anymore. I’ve run out of time. I just wanted to hear her play before she left for good. That’s all.” His bratty composure has wholly fallen, giving way to his longing, loving side.

“That piece she played. It’s Mozart’s Sonata in D major for two pianos, isn’t it?” Tamaki pulls away a pale yellow curtain to reveal a grand piano in all its glory. He lifts open the lid and reveals the shining black and white slick keys like they’re brand new.

“Wait a minute, since when is there a grand piano in this room?” Haruhi drawls, confused.

“Well, this is a music room, after all-”

“So why wouldn’t it have a grand piano?” the twins ask as if it’s obvious.

“It is a music room, after all.” Kyoya sips a cup of tea, seated across from Honey and Mori.

“It is a music room.” Mori’s monotone voice is low and soothing.

“It’s always been there. We just had it covered up.” Honey shrugs as he swallows a bite of cake.

Tamaki poises his fingers over the keys and begins to flawlessly play the piece in question.

As usual, Tamaki seems to be putting no effort into his performance, his fingers gliding skillfully over the ivory keys like gentle feathers ticking the surface. It’s a learned skill.

Shiro rises from his place on the sofa to watch in awe.

“Awesome.” he exhales breathlessly. He is certainly someone who can appreciate this sort of skill.

“For the next week, you will spend your mornings, lunches, recesses, and free time after school in piano lessons with me.”

“But, why?”

“You wanted to be my apprentice, right? Besides, that young lady looked like she wanted nothing more than to play the piano with you.”

It’s like watching a creature in its natural habitat- Tamaki on the piano.

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You and the hosts stand in two lines on either side of the doorway, welcoming your guest, “Welcome, princess, we’ve been waiting.”

“I present to you, Shiro Takaoji’s piano recital.” Tamaki gives way to reveal Shiro sitting at a grand piano, an identical one just beside him with an empty, calling chair. Shiro’s face remains stoic as his gaze bores into the keys in front of him.

Hina hesitates in shock, her eyes wide and innocent as she processes her surroundings.

Tamaki pulls out the empty chair and gestures to the piano, “If you please, princess.”

She finally puts the pieces together for herself.

“Let’s play together, Hina.” Shiro flashes her a genuine smile.

“Okay!” She agrees quickly, settling down beside him, and they both begin to play.

With fond expressions, you and the host club are the perfect audience.

You and Kyoya watch from a distance, even both of your somewhat cold exteriors melting at the sight of young love blooming. "It must be difficult, moving to the other side other side of the world so young"

You hum "It is." you mutter, not entirely sure whether or not he was referring to Hina, or you. "I just pray that Hina is good at german" you whisper, silence between the two of you. Kyoya knew your struggles when you moved to Ouran well, everyone did. It wasn't that you didn't know Japanese, but knowing it and using it are two different things. It didn't need to be restated.

"At least...Even if she isn't....she'll have someone waiting for her" now this was an odd, not in the context of Shiro and Hina, that made perfect sense, but the two of you did this a lot, talking about one thing when in reality you're talking about each other.

"Would he wait do you think?"

"I think he would...when you have a look like that you find yourself to be incredibly...patient"

Next time on patience 'Jungle pool SOS!'

Tag list (reply to be added): @skottch @cgmajor @rebirthbunbun @bbybubbles @blueberry19000

[ode2rin]

Was it because he sometimes fail to call you due to opposite time zones? Or was it the frequent periods when he wasn't at home? Had the distance finally played its game in your relationship?

Out of all people, you were the last person Sae would have expected to betray him like this.

Yet, it happened. You blindsided him.

“I’m just three episodes ahead! Stop being so dramatic!” you protested from the other end of the couch.

Yes, that's the grave betrayal you've committed. Was it worth fighting over? Maybe. Was he being petty? Of course not. The act itself could be the equivalent of your partner lying to you. A literal crime, if he can say so himself. 

“We were supposed to watch it together,” he frowned, his eyes fixed on the Netflix series playing on the TV with its soft glow highlighting the contours of Sae's face as he continued to express his mock indignation. “Together.” He stressed every syllable, dragging out the pettiness, much to your annoyance.

And there you both were, caught in the crossfire of a relationship dispute sparked by the unspoken rules of synchronized streaming. 

Were there any rules in the first place? Well, according to Sae's book, there certainly were. Because, much to his denial, Sae loves your relationship’s traditions. One of them being this – the two of you wrapped in thick blankets with you curling up to his side and his hands fiddling with yours while you both spend the night away watching a show you mentioned in your call with him when he was away. 

Now, however, the two of you (mainly him) are faced with the big question of how to enjoy said tradition when you're already three episodes ahead.

“I apologized already,” you point out.

“You said sorry after saying oh yeah, I kind of watched it and shrugged. Talk about sincerity.” 

You bite back your laughter at his words. You knew your boyfriend had a great tendency to be dramatic, but he surprises you every time he pulls out a fit like this one. 

“And look, you’re even laughing.” he glares at you. “You find it so funny that you broke your promise to watch it with me, is that it?”

“Oh, come on! How did you even know that I already watched it?! I was acting pretty well!” you exclaimed at him while inching closer, trying to get close to where he’s seated. 

Five minutes before this whole theatrics, Sae was sitting close to you. However, after realizing your betrayal, the sheer spite in him compelled him to retreat to the opposite end of the couch, far from your lying ass.

“Your acting skills are shit,” he tells you before rolling his eyes again.

It was a lie. He almost couldn’t tell except after one passing comical scene of the show.

Sae has developed a habit of looking at you whenever there’s a scene he thinks you would find remotely funny, no matter how ridiculous the said scene might be for him. At every joke and witty banter, he would turn to you for your own laugh.

You never caught on to this habit, and Sae would rather feed on those horrendous french fries than tell you how he seeks the way you throw your head back, and how your eyes momentarily shut from laughing because the sight spreads an indefinable warmth in his chest and how the sound fills every quiet corner of his once empty space. 

So imagine his surprise when you weren’t laughing. You were smiling – yes, but it wasn’t a laugh he seeks.

Sae was on the verge of turning his head again after hearing a sigh escape your lips. You’re sighing? And it was deep too, like it was telling him you’re getting sick of it. The absolute nerve.

“Did you just sigh–”

But before Sae could finish his sentence, your arms gracefully snaked around his torso, enveloping him in that comforting back hug you always bestowed upon him.

“I said I’m sorry,” you whispered against his shoulder blades, your right cheek caressing his back as you planted a feather-light kiss in that spot. You saw him momentarily close his eyes at your touch, making you smile secretly in triumph. 

You’ve loved this man long enough to memorize how to soften his rough edges.

“I was bored to my wits’ end last week, I couldn’t help it but check it out,” you added, your voice carrying a persuasive tone.

Last week. He was supposed to be home by that time. If he was, the two of you would be comfortably cuddling on this very same couch. But some lukewarm fool managing the team decided to extend his misery in Spain for another week.

“I don’t like that look.” 

His thoughts were cut off by the sound of your stern voice. Unbeknownst to Sae’s preoccupied self, you’ve been staring at his face far longer than a minute to notice his miniscule change of expression when you mentioned last week. Turning to his right shoulder where you were, he raised an eyebrow in question.

“I know you. Spit it out,” you demanded, a knowing glint in your eyes.

And truth be told, you do know him. You were right. For a moment, his thoughts lingered on how much easier it would be to have more nights of just you and him if he wasn't away all the time.

But he couldn’t tell you that, not just yet. Maybe when the timing finally called for his proposition. “I’m sorry my stay got extended,” is what he said instead, hoping to convey what he couldn’t put into words.

“You know I don’t mind, besides, I understand.”

“I know.”

Sensing an unspoken ‘but...’ in his words, you looked up to him, meeting his perceptive teal eyes. He didn’t need to say anything more. You knew him, after all.

To lighten the mood, you decided to test your luck by teasing him. “Oh, my big dramatic baby,” you cooed.

“I’m not a damn baby,” he snorted, beginning to squirm out of your embrace as if to prove a point without letting his ears betray him by turning red.

“Shh, you are. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone else. I wouldn’t dare sabotage the Japan prodigy’s aloof badass rep to shit.”

You saw his mouth twitched, holding back his own amusement. God, even after all of those tender affections from you, this guy is still trying to be petty as hell.

“I don’t have an aloof badass reputation.”

“Yeah, because what you are is a dramatic spiteful boyfriend who thrives on being petty.”

“You’re really making it hard to forgive you, y/n.”

“Forgive me already!” You gaped at him, “And you say I’m the dramatic one in this relationship!”

Sae, like the rude person he is, ignored your whines, reaching for the remote to turn the show to the fourth episode. He then carefully placed you in his lap, turning you to face the TV, your back now pressing against his chest. As you watched everything he did in bewilderment, you turned to him, “but you won’t enjoy the story if we start on the fourth episode.”

True, but he preferred it when you were the one enjoying. “I’ll ask you questions along the way, and you can tell me about it,” he reassured you before pressing a kiss to your hair.

Exactly as he anticipated, your excitement to catch him up on the last three episodes was palpable. 

The living room transformed into a sanctuary of your laughter as you animatedly narrated each event that happened. He could barely understand the fourth one with all of your extra comments and snarky remarks on the characters that he doubts is even a part of the actual plot. The night danced away in the soothing rhythm of your voice and the murmur of a TV show, until your breaths finally eased into the cadence of sleep.

Silently, Sae turned off the TV, reveling in the tranquility of the room as he gathered you in his arms to head into your shared bedroom. Gently placing your slumbering form on your side of the bed, he settled beside you and draped the blanket over the two of you. Pulling you close, he nestled your head against his chest, one arm securing you at the waist.

But before sleep could fully claim his senses, he heard you mumbling.

“Sae?” 

Responding with a gentle hum, he felt your movements, your hands exploring the contours of his back as if tracing invisible lines and circles.

“About earlier,” you start, your voice barely above a whisper, “I’m not going anywhere. I'll be here, waiting for you to get home.”

His eyes opened, the drowsiness dissipating in the wake of your words, replaced by your warmth all over his body next to yours.

“So, it’s okay,” you continued, your words a tender caress against his collarbones, “We have plenty of time for movie nights and catching up on shows.”

Silence embraced you both, the room a canvas painted in the soft strokes of your steady breaths and the gentle thud of his heartbeat. Sae didn’t verbally respond to your assurance. Instead, you felt him pressed a soft kiss to the crown of your head and his arm around your waist tightening its hold.

He didn’t say anything, but his silence and his embrace was loud enough for you to know everything he wanted to say.

Of course, you both had time— a wealth of moments to spend more nights like this. He’ll make sure of it. After all, he looks forward to spending his days off in the tranquility of your presence. No matter how mundane it could get — as long as it’s with you.

note. it's been a while since i wrote this man.. i still cannot stand him and his petty ass by the way.

[rallamajoop]

That time Heisenberg stabbed Ethan with a rusty fencepost

Thanks to this one fic project that needed a pornographically detailed list of Ethan’s most memorable injuries, I've spent some time trying to figure out exactly what Heisenberg stabs him with when they first met. Working mostly from a free-camera version from youtube, I settled on calling a metal pipe with a square profile.

Tumblr: I was wrong. The reality is so much worse.

Having cracked the game files and installed my own free-camera mod, I tracked down the original asset for this thing, and, well...

No, really, this is it! Check out those matching cross-bars if you doubt me.

FWIW, it isn’t actually a spear. Those semi-mangled crossbars flag it instead as a spear-headed fence-post. (This may not be a distinction that Ethan would find very comforting after being stabbed with the thing, but there it is, regardless.)

In fact, if you poke around the cemetery area just outside the castle gate, you can even find the fence it presumably came from.

Look in on the cemetery near the church from the lane leading up to the Duke's shop beside it, and this is what you'll see.

It's not a perfect match (in fact, it's even worse viewed from the opposite side, because someone has clearly stuffed up the textures on different sides of the same asset). I'll also note that if you go back to this fence again after meeting Heisenberg, you won’t find any suspicious gaps in it where a post was recently ripped out. So I’m going to just go ahead and assume this particular piece was lying in a pile of surplus scrap in the cellar somewhere, and Heisenberg did not, in fact, drag the thing all the way there from well outside the whole damn building. I mean, at that point, you’re just showing off.

The fence post is, admittedly, pretty hard to get a good look at in the actual game. Unlike all the other crap Heisenberg already has levitating around him in this scene, the fencepost doesn’t appear at all until Heisenberg stabs Ethan with it. It actually seems to emerge at speed from between a couple of barrels at the back. But if you’re enough of a lunatic to play around with the various slow motion/rewind settings that came with the free camera mod, you can get a decent shot of it in flight, cleaning up any remaining doubt that this is the same asset that was used in game.

It even freaking spins in the air as it moves. FTR, yes, it does go in pointy-end first. And the whole fucking spearhead ends up buried in poor Ethan. (Please feel free to insert your own dick-joke here.) Those paying really close attention might even note that the blood on Ethan's shirt is present even before the spear hits him, but that's just going to be virtual-stunt-coordination having a normal one.

I can offer you no similarly definitive insight into why Heisenberg would think stabbing Ethan with this thing was a good idea. I can’t even tell you if he knew for sure that it was Ethan Winters he was talking to at this point (maybe he's just playing dumb, pretending not to recognise him. Or maybe he legit didn't know that Ethan himself had made an appearance until Miranda told him. Sure, he's already got that whole conspiracy board, but finding real pictures of this Ethan-guy is surprisingly hard.) But whether Heis was already testing out Ethan’s ‘interesting body’, or whether he’d just generally assumed that anyone who could survive a full lycan assault on the village wouldn’t be too seriously inconvenienced by a little stabbing, hoo boy was this one way to make a first impression.

I’m not even sure which of these losers is the bigger idiot here: the one who imagined Ethan might still agree to work with him even after inserting a very convincing imitation-spearhead into his intestines, or the one who never thought to seriously question how he keeps shrugging off injuries just as exciting as this one.

They probably deserve each other.

[punkshort]

somewhere to run | 3. the statement

Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: You finally visit the station to give Joel your statement about the incident and he has concerns about you returning to work.

Chapter Warnings: language, angst, PTSD type symptoms, slow burn, possessive thoughts, mutual pining

WC: 5.5K

Series Masterlist

Joel's business card was taped to your fridge, a glaring beacon every time you strolled by for a glass of water or to throw something in the trash. Every single time, your eyes drifted to it, the numbers practically memorized by now.

You knew he gave you the card for professional reasons. But he did make a point of mentioning his cell phone was also listed. What did that mean? What did you want it to mean?

It's been two days. Two whole days since the attempted robbery, since that man put his hands on you, since the last time you saw Joel. You were supposed to work the dinner shift tonight. The first night back at work since the incident. Joel never came in at night, you've only ever seen him at lunch, and you felt fear. Fear of going back there, to the literal scene of the crime, and knowing this time Joel wouldn't appear from around the corner to protect you.

You took a shaky breath in and looked at the time. It was almost nine in the morning. You had been up for hours already, the anxiety of going back to work waking you far earlier than you wished. Walking back in the kitchen, you looked at that card again while you chewed on your lower lip. He did say to call him when you were ready to give your statement. You picked up your phone and stared at the black screen, your thumb hovering over it, poised to wake it up.

Which number do you call? His office, or his cell?

If you called his cell, that would mean something else, right? That's far more personal. He might misconstrue things if you called his cell, and things could get complicated. You couldn't let him get wrapped up in the drama of your personal life. He didn't deserve that. He had a daughter, he has a life. You couldn't let things get personal with him, although the lines already felt like they were blurring.

Before you lost your nerve, you punched in the number to his office and hit the green button. You paced around your kitchen, listening to ring after deafening ring until finally the line picked up. Voicemail. Shit.

Without thinking, you hung up before his outgoing message finished. You didn't anticipate leaving a message, you didn't have anything rehearsed.

You walked by the fridge again, your phone clutched in your hand, your eyes glancing at the little white card taped there. With a sigh, you punched in the second number - his cell.

While you waited for him to pick up, you nervously chewed on your nail, your heart thudding in your chest wildly. You thought his voicemail was going to pickup again, but at the last moment, the ring was cut off and you heard rustling on the other end before his deep voice carried through the speaker.

"Miller."

Your breath caught in your throat. His voice sounded stern. Stoic. You forgot to breathe. You heard him pull the phone away from his ear, checking to see if the call dropped before repeating himself a little louder into the receiver. Finally, you forced yourself to speak.

"Joel?"

Your voice sounded so small, so weak compared to his. You heard him take a breath in and say your name softly before asking you to hold on. There was more rustling on the other end, voices fading into the background before you heard the soft click of a door and then silence.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice no longer hardened.

"Yes," you lied, fidgeting nervously with the cuff of your sweatshirt. There was a long pause before he spoke again.

"Hadn't seen you at the diner. I asked, no one's heard from you and I -" he stopped talking and you realized you had stopped breathing, waiting for him to continue. "I was worried. Almost came by, but I didn't wanna upset you."

You nodded as though he could see you.

"Sorry. I just needed some time to get through it," you explained.

"You coulda called me, y'know," he said quietly. "We coulda talked about it, or if you want, I got the number of a shrink we use here to help people out when stuff like this happens. She's real good."

"That's okay," you said, declining the offer.

It was silent for another minute before you remembered the reason for your call.

"You wanted me to give a statement?"

Joel paused, realizing now that you called not for a friend, but for the sheriff.

"Right," he said, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and index finger. "When are you free?"

"I work tonight, can I come by before then?"

"Yeah, 'course. I'm here all day."

"Okay. Maybe an hour?" you asked, glancing at the clock.

"Sure."

"Okay."

There was another long silence again as you waited for him to end the call. When it became clear he wasn't going to say anything, you spoke again.

"I'll see you in a bit, then."

He sighed, a deep, heavy sound filtering through the phone, then repeated your words back. See you in a bit.

You hung up, taking a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. Then you caught sight of your reflection in the toaster and you cringed. You desperately needed a shower.

You hadn't been to the police station before, but everyone in town knew where it was. It was a two story building near the center of town, with three big flagpoles and a handful of police cars parked out front. It wasn't very far from your apartment, but it was in the opposite direction of the diner. You realized as you walked up to the front door that Joel most likely walked past your apartment twice a day as he made his way back and forth for lunch. The thought of him nearby so often brought you a strange amount of comfort.

When you approached the older woman at the front desk to explain your reason for being there, she seemed to already know as she picked up the phone and hit a button, waiting for Joel to pick up on the other end. Her eyes stared a little too long at your neck as she told Joel you were there, and you self consciously fiddled with your purse strap over your shoulder. You had tried to cover up the bruises with a little bit of ancient makeup you found in a toiletry bag, but apparently you didn't do a very good job.

Moments later, you heard a door unlock and Joel step out, his eyes instantly stopping on you standing in the middle of the lobby and you felt the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. He was wearing a dark blue suit you didn't remember seeing before, with a black tie and a white dress shirt. And you could have been wrong, but it looked like he had an air of nervousness about him, as well. His hair looked tousled and his voice held a small tremor when he said your name and motioned for you to follow him back.

As you walked through the station, you glanced around at the familiarity of the bullpen: rickety old desks shoved up against each other with piles of folders, empty mugs of coffee and ancient looking computers adorning them. Men hunched over eating or talking on the phone, barely sparing you a glance. You followed obediently behind Joel as he led you towards the back, towards the interrogation rooms, and you froze, a small noise slipping past your lips. He heard it and turned around.

"Somethin' wrong?"

"No," you said quickly, but he could tell you were lying. He waited, looking at you expectantly. When you still didn't say anything, he looked around, trying to figure out the problem.

"Did you prefer to talk in my office?" he finally asked, jutting his chin towards the front where there was a small, messy area with windows around the whole room so he could look out at the bullpen. You glanced at it and nodded.

His office was what you expected: a few outdated photos of him and Sarah sat on the lip of his desk, along with file folders, half of which were open with a black ballpoint pen left on top, as though he were in the middle of writing out a thought when you arrived. His computer didn't even look like it was turned on. The chair he sat in groaned under his weight, the cracked leather squeaking against his belt. You sat in the chair opposite him: an old, stained thing that you could feel had all of its padding flattened underneath the blue fabric.

"Can I get you anythin'? Coffee? Water?" he asked you, his eyes glued to his desk as he tried to tidy up his mess.

"No," you said softly, watching as he pulled out a legal pad and flipped to a fresh page, then clicking his pen and scrawling your name and date at the top with a few other notes, most likely a case file number or another identifying code.

"Alright, ever done one of these before?" he asked routinely, still writing on the pad.

"Yes."

The pen stopped.

Slowly, he brought his gaze up to meet yours, but you just waited for him to continue.

He wanted to ask. You could see it, the question burning behind his eyes, and maybe he was about to before he remembered his place, and he swallowed it down.

"Okay," he said, setting his pen down and lacing his fingers together on the desk. "Shouldn't take too long. I saw most of it. We got a few statements from other customers, too. Just need to know how it started, what you were doin', what he said. That kind of thing."

You nodded and steeled yourself with a deep breath before speaking.

"You had just walked away to use the restroom," you began, and he picked up the pen and started writing. "I had just filled your coffee. I wasn't paying attention, I was distracted that day." You glanced up at him, but he kept his eyes down on the paper. "I heard someone clear their throat. He must -"

"Marcus?"

"Yes, Marcus must have sat down when I wasn't paying attention. I apologized and grabbed another mug for him. I already had the coffee, so I walked over and poured it -"

"Did he ask for coffee?" Joel interrupted, and you stopped to think.

"No, I just poured it. Most customers ask for coffee so I guess I assumed."

"Okay, keep goin'," Joel said, his brow furrowed in concentration as he scribbled on the pad.

"I was looking down at the mug, telling him the specials and then-" you stopped, your words getting trapped in your throat. His writing paused and he looked up at you.

"It's alright," he soothed. "Take your time."

You took in a shaky breath and forced yourself to continue.

"He slid the gun across the counter, and I panicked."

"Did he say anythin'?"

"Um, I don't think so?" you replied, swallowing the lump in your throat as you dropped your eyes to your lap.

"Okay," he said softly. You looked up at him again and met his warm gaze, his eyes soft and kind, and you found the courage to continue.

"I asked him what he wanted," you said, your voice beginning to shake, but you pushed through. "He said he wanted the money in the register and gave me a bag."

"Mhmm," Joel said, nodding along as he began writing again.

"I was scared. M-my fingers - my hands were shaking. I was trying to open the drawer, but I couldn't and he was getting impatient," you said, tears welling up in your eyes now. Joel was still focused on writing but you could see the muscle in his jaw twitch as you spoke.

"Then what?" he said, his voice turning colder, and you shivered involuntarily.

"He told me to hurry the fuck up or something like that," you said, sniffling a little. "I told him I was new and I was trying-"

Joel muttered something under his breath and you stopped. You looked at him, waiting for him to repeat himself, but he just sighed.

"Sorry, go on," he said, rubbing his thumb across his forehead.

"That's when you saw him," you said. He nodded, his pen hovering over the page.

"I don't wanna make you relive it," he said, his eyes cast down. "But can you briefly explain what he did?"

"You told him to put the gun down," you continued, trying to be quick at this point. "He grabbed me by the neck and pulled me across the counter. He held me against his chest and had his gun against my head."

"Okay, thank you," Joel said firmly, effectively telling you to stop, but you kept talking.

"I couldn't breathe," you whispered, and he dropped the pen, squeezing his eyes shut, his nostrils flaring. "He was gripping my throat so tight, it made me dizzy. I was so scared, I thought-"

"That's enough!" Joel said loudly, making you jump.

"I'm sorry," you whimpered, a tear trickling down your cheek. He shook his head, his eyes still closed.

"Don't apologize," he said, but his voice was tense.

Finally, he opened his eyes and looked at you. At first, his gaze traveled to the tear on your cheek and guilt flashed across his face before looking into your eyes again. You swallowed and it felt like the muscles in your throat seized up. Looking at the anguish in his face, you wondered what you did wrong.

"Is that all?" you asked, breaking the silence. He just looked at you, his eyes traveling down your face and stopping on your bruised neck. His fingers twitched.

"Wish you woulda called me," he said, his voice soft again. "Shouldn't've been alone."

"I'm fine," you told him, but neither of you believed it. "I will be fine," you conceded when he gave you a look.

He sighed and leaned back in his chair, then raked his fingers through his already tousled curls and you watched as each one flopped back into place.

"Tonight your first day back?"

"Yes."

He nodded and ticked his jaw to the side, his eyes moving up and down your face.

"How're you feelin' 'bout that?"

You shrugged, trying to come off nonchalant, but he saw right through it. He tilted his head to the side and gave you a look that said cut the bullshit.

"Not great. But I'll manage," you finally admitted. "Gotta move past it sometime, right?"

"You want me to pop in later?" he asked, but you quickly shook your head.

"Thank you, but no. What are the chances it'll happen twice?" you said with a dry laugh. He allowed himself a small smile for your benefit then looked down. You picked up your phone to check the time, then stood.

"I should go, I have to run some errands before work," you said, reaching down to pick up your purse as he got up from his desk, his hands on his hips.

"If you wanna talk-"

"Call you?" you finished for him, raising your eyebrows with a smirk. He smiled and nodded, then led you to the front lobby.

"Now I got your number, so you can't go disappearin' again," he reminded you.

"I didn't disappear, I had a couple days off from work," you said, rolling your eyes but you couldn't stop your lips from turning up into a smile.

"You left me with Betty, y'know."

"What's so wrong with Betty?" you asked, turning around when you reached the front door. The older woman at the front desk glanced up at you both.

"Nothin', and don't you dare go sayin' otherwise or she'll have my hide," he said, and you giggled.

"Well, you'll have me tomorrow," you assured him, and he felt a rush of blood between his legs. Get your mind outta the gutter, Miller.

"Lookin' forward to it," he murmured, and you waved goodbye, pushing the door open and leaving him standing there, his mind swirling.

He turned around once he could no longer see you walking down the sidewalk, a stupid grin on his face which quickly disappeared when he saw Helen staring at him.

"What?"

"Nothing," she said, turning to look at her computer.

When he got back to his office, Joel mentally scolded himself for his behavior. What was he thinking? He couldn't believe he let his feelings for you get in the way of a case. But when you began to describe what happened from your perspective, something inside him snapped. He felt the rage bubbling below the surface with your every word and shaky breath. It was a miracle he didn't run in the back and strangle Marcus with his bare hands.

But he felt even worse for raising his voice at you. You didn't deserve that. All you were trying to do was what was asked of you, and he practically yelled at you.

You looked confused, but how could he explain himself? He couldn't tell you to stop talking because hearing how scared you were was doing something to him. Something that he knew was not part of the job. Something he thought before today he could keep separate.

He ran his rough hands over his beard and he exhaled slowly, letting his mind drift back to that day.

When he saw Marcus standing in front of you at the register, he never felt fear like that before. His job didn't usually put him in much danger. It was a quiet town, but every town had their bad apples. Over the years, he had a couple run-ins that might be considered close calls, but the other day at the diner took the cake.

Everyone knew Marcus was relatively harmless. He had never hurt anyone before when driven to do crazy things by his addiction. But Joel wasn't ready to take that chance. Not with you.

He had told Marcus he would have killed him, and he meant every word.

He told you over and over that he wanted you to call him if you wanted to talk about what happened, but now he wasn't sure he could. How could he, when his blood ran hot at just the mere memory of that gun pressed against your sweet, perfect face?

He was worried you would flee. That you would run back to Pennsylvania, back to your home where surely things like this never happened to you. You had been here but a couple weeks and someone already threatens your life? If it were him, he would probably consider leaving town.

When he didn't see you for the past two days, he thought that was exactly what you did. He laid awake at night, fighting the urge to sneak out while Sarah slept to see if your lights were on. He was so desperate to confirm you were still in town, he had actually paced outside of your apartment after lunch, coming dangerously close to ringing your bell, but he was too afraid. He was afraid if he rang the bell and you didn't answer, his heart would break. And he wasn't sure he could handle that. So he let you be, and prayed to whatever god was above that you were still around, because he realized far too quickly that he had no way of contacting you if you disappeared.

But now, he did. He stared down at his phone, at the number you called him from earlier that morning, and he saved it under your name. He considered briefly if he should put an emoji next to your name, but realized that would be ridiculous and just left it.

His thumb hovered over your contact, the little message symbol tempting him beyond belief. He wasn't much of a texter - he usually only texted Sarah and the occasional poker buddy - but he really wanted to send you a message. No, he shouldn't. It would come off too desperate. You just left, what else was there to say?

What a ridiculous question. There was mountains left to say, but he couldn't do it. Betty already tested the waters for him and you said no. But maybe that's changed. And if it hasn't, he would keep trying until it does. He was nothing if not persistent.

He sighed, looking out of the window of his office at the men typing away at their computers or talking on the phone. Then he remembered something. You said this wasn't the first time you gave a statement. You also seemed hesitant to follow him towards the interrogation rooms. Something happened to you, and he hoped one day you would trust him enough to tell him because he wanted nothing more than to hold you in his arms and keep you safe. To prove to you that there was nothing to fear, that he would treat you right and take care of you. If only you'd let him, he would give you everything.

Even Sarah liked you. How could she not?

That night after you had pizza with them, she teased him in the car on the way home. She could see it within minutes, why couldn't you? He barely even put up a fight when Sarah brought up his obvious infatuation. What was the point? He was grateful to know that his daughter approved of him dating, he couldn't deny that. Not that he hasn't seen any women since his ex left, but it was always casual. Always secretive, until the flame burnt out and the excitement was gone and he was left all alone again.

It wasn't lost on him that women around town looked at him a certain way, but he never gave it much thought. None of them interested him. Not until you.

He thought about you, running your little errands and then getting ready for work. He looked at his shared calendar with Sarah: she had a sleepover tonight after soccer practice. Maybe he would swing by the diner. He could stay in the parking lot, just to make sure you were okay.

"I'm glad we didn't scare you off, darlin'," Tommy said after the dinner rush died down and he emerged from the kitchen, wiping sweat from his forehead and smelling like french fries.

You gave him a smile and waved him off.

"It would take a lot more than that to scare me off," you said with a laugh as you refilled the sugar caddies at the counter.

"Damn, I don't think I want to find out what that is," he said, grinning as Maria approached him with a kiss.

"Busy night," Maria told him, rubbing the palm of her hand over his back soothingly. You glanced back down at the sugar, ignoring the pang in your chest from watching their open affection for one another.

"Yeah, middle of the week, too. Must be the rain that drove everyone inside," he said, peering out the window at the sheets of rain that fell. His eyes paused on something outside and he squinted before you drew his attention back.

"I'm glad it was, it made the night go by fast," you replied, moving on from the sugar to the condiment bottles, wiping them down and refilling them as you went.

"Why don't you finish up and head out," he told you, nodding towards the door. You glanced up and agreed, regretting not bringing an umbrella but maybe if you timed it right, you could leave when there was a lull in the weather.

It was nearly ten by the time you walked out, the door locking behind you. The rain was still coming down, but you hoped the hoodie you brought with you would be enough to shield you as you hurried down the sidewalk.

It was dark out and the streets were quiet as you walked hunched over, your sneakers getting soaked from walking through the puddles. The rain was too loud and your hood covered your ears, so you didn't hear him when he approached you from behind, his own shoes splashing in the water as he jogged to catch up.

"Hey," he panted, and you yelped, jumping backwards as your heart raced in your chest.

"Jesus, Joel. You scared me!" you said with a frown, your hand resting against your heart.

"Sorry," he said with a smirk, then moved closer, just inches away from your own body. You could feel the warmth rolling off him and you could smell the shampoo from his hair, he was that close. You froze, not sure what was happening until you realized the rain was no longer pummeling your head. Glancing up, you noticed he held an umbrella over you.

"Oh," you breathed, then looked at him again. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," he mumbled, his unwavering gaze burning a hole in you. Finally, you tore your eyes away and the two of you quickly walked the rest of the way to your apartment, his arm occasionally brushing up against your own, and you resisted the urge to flinch.

You fumbled nervously with your keys as he held the umbrella over you, sacrificing himself to the weather so you had enough room to maneuver the door open. You slipped inside and he moved the umbrella back over himself.

"See you tomorrow?" he asked, and you furrowed your brow, looking up at the sky.

"Do you want to come in and wait this out? Or I could drive you back -"

"Yes," he said, cutting you off and eagerly stepping forward. You held the door open as he collapsed the umbrella, giving it a few shakes and leaving it angled against the door before following you up the steps.

He shut the second door behind him, glancing around at your meager apartment as you flitted around turning on lights and closing the shades. You turned back to look at him, standing stock still in your doorway, unsure what to do with himself. You yanked your wet hoodie off over your head, your shirt riding up just a little bit and exposing your stomach for a moment, and Joel felt a stirring below his waist. He had to force himself to look away until you managed to fix your shirt, the desire coursing through his veins becoming too overwhelming.

"Let me get you a towel," you said, noticing how drenched his hair looked for the first time. He was grateful for the extra moment to collect himself as you slipped into the bathroom and grabbed two bath towels, drying your own hair as you handed him his. He thanked you and slid his shoes off while he dried his dark curls, then wiped his face and neck. You forced yourself to look away from the droplets of water trickling enticingly slow down his throat and underneath the collar of his nearly soaked T-shirt.

"Coffee?" you asked, and he chuckled at the familiar question.

"Sure," he said, taking a couple steps forward and leaning against the doorway of your little kitchen, watching as you scooped the grounds into the coffee maker next to your stove.

"How's that faucet treatin' you?"

"Good," you said with a nod, then pressed the brew button and turned to face him. "Are you a handyman on the side or something?"

"I guess I'm just a man of many talents," he said with a wink, and you felt the heat creeping up your neck. To distract yourself, you turned and walked toward the window, peeking out through the curtains as the rain pummeled down on the street below.

"It's still really coming down out there," you said, turning back around. You gasped, not realizing he had followed you over and he was standing right behind you, looking out the window as well before his gaze fell to you. You looked at each other for a moment, both waiting for the other to do something, say something, anything to acknowledge the tension in the room.

"Were you following me?" you asked quietly, and he blinked.

"Following you? No," he said, shaking his head. But he shifted his gaze away guiltily. "I was comin' back from droppin' Sarah off at practice and happened to drive by the diner, so I stopped..."

"At ten o'clock at night?" you asked. He let a huff of laughter escape his lips.

"Might've hung out in the parking lot for a bit."

"Why?"

He chewed the inside of his cheek, still not able to meet your eye.

"You seemed shook up earlier. Just wanted to make sure you were okay," he finally said.

He spent his evening in the parking lot just to keep an eye on the place? What did that mean? You swallowed and asked another question.

"Doing some overtime, then?" you all but whispered. He took a deep breath in through his nose and finally looked at you.

"No."

His eyes flicked down to your lips and you thought you were going to pass out with how fast your blood was pumping through your veins.

The beep from the coffee pot startled you both out of your trance. You blinked and shifted around him, pulling two mugs down off the shelf. Somehow, you managed to pour the liquid without burning yourself, your shaky hands betraying you as you held his cup out to him.

"Do you mind if I go change?" you asked him, and he looked up at you over his mug, surprised.

"'Course not," he said, glancing down at your damp work uniform. His eyes trailed after you as you disappeared into your bedroom and shut the door. He knew he shouldn't be there. He knew he was overwhelming you, but he just couldn't stay away. He knew if he was at home, all alone, he would just be laying on the couch half listening to some talk show and wondering what you were doing. And he really liked being able to know instead of just wonder.

You came back out of your bedroom a minute later dressed in soft pajama pants and a sleep shirt. It wasn't anything special, but he felt himself react anyway. It was intimate, being able to see what you slept in, and it excited him.

"I'm sorry, I don't have anything..." you trailed off, pointing to his now half dry T-shirt, and he smirked. He couldn't stop what he said next.

"I'm glad you don't have any men's clothes lyin' around."

I'm glad you're not dating anyone. I'm glad you aren't sleeping with anyone. Because I want it to be me.

You cleared your throat nervously and looked around, your eyes falling on the TV.

"Do you want to watch a movie or something? 'Til the rain stops?"

"Yeah," he said with a nod. He sat down slowly at the end of the couch, watching as you fished around the coffee table for the remote and turned it on, then tucked your legs underneath you as you sat down on the other end of the couch. It wasn't a big piece of furniture, but you still managed to put as much space as possible between you two. You flicked around the channels, pausing when you found a familiar movie and you turned to check with him, only to find he had been looking at you the whole time.

"Is this okay?"

"Sure," he said, not even sparing a glance at the TV. You felt your face flush and you bit your lip, trying to breathe through your nerves as you turned back to watch some actors you couldn't quite name.

"I'm sorry I don't have anything stronger," you said, nodding to his coffee. "I'm not much of a drinker."

"That's okay, I'm not either," he said, settling back into the couch as he finally tore his gaze away from you to look at the screen.

It was a relief to hear him say that. You had spent so much time around men who drank that it turned you off from the whole idea most of the time. You opened your mouth to tell him that, but quickly snapped it shut. That would inevitably cause him to ask more questions, and you weren't ready to open that door.

The rain kept up most of the night, but you weren't sure when it stopped because even though you had drank most of your coffee, you fell asleep. You had intended on resting your head on the back of the couch and closing your eyes for just a moment, but the stress from the whole day combined with not sleeping well the night before caught up with you.

Of course, Joel noticed. He watched with a small smile as your body slowly relaxed into the couch, then your lips parted just a little bit and your breathing deepened. He probably should have woken you up, helped you to bed, then left. But he was a selfish man, and instead watched you sleep until your body began to slump closer to him. His breath caught in his throat and his body stiffened as you unconsciously leaned against him, your soft cheek coming to rest against his shoulder. His eyes fluttered shut as he tried to slow his racing heart.

Fuck, you were just too pretty and sweet, and he couldn't help himself. He was just a man. He was selfish. He was weak. And he didn't care.

Slowly, he inched his way down until he was lying flat on the couch, your body sliding down with him. Your head was pressed against his shoulder, your leg draped over his own and he felt your warm exhale through the thin fabric of his shirt. He swore he would only stay like that for a little while but it was too intoxicating. Before he knew it, his body was quickly lulled to sleep, with his nose buried in your hair and his arms wrapped around your body, holding you close.

Taglist: @harriedandharassed@merz-8@sarap-77 @nandan11 @anoverwhelmingdin @fandomscollide @survivingandenduring @honeyedmiller @pedropascalsbbg @southernbe @pedrosfanny @gobaaby-blog-blog @eloquentdreamer @yomiyasxx @mrsparknuts @missladym1981 @spacedoutdaydreamer @cosmic006533-blog @prettyinpunk85 @maried01 @sunnyskyapplepie

[merlucide]

BLLK BOYS W/ A THEATER NERD S/O

notes: HELP I H8 THE DRABBLES..🥲 (og ask)

characters: Reo, Isagi, Rin, Bachira

warnings: cursing?, implied fem, cringe

bllk mlist

MIKAGE REO

oh, he just LOVES watching your performances. 

Wether your on stage or not- he comes to EVERY show (drags nagi w/him too LMAO)

Helps you memorize any of your lines / helps you gather stuff you’ll need backstage.

He loves seeing you thrive in theater, and how happy it makes you ><

He always listens intently when you talk about your favorite broadway show, amazed how you remember even the smallest details

Sings your favorite musical songs with you, he will even act out the scene with you

Brings you a BIG bouquet of assorted flowers when the performance is over— rambling about how just wonderful it was

He is really proud of the effort you put into you craft, and the outcome always amazes him

Everyone had gathered on stage for the final bow, the crowd clapped and cheered. You smiled when you spotted your boyfriend holding up a limp Nagi. Reo clapped with a bright smile on his lips— and Nagi squinting at the bright lights. Everyone headed backstage and the crowd cleared, most left but close friends and family stayed and came backstage.

“Y/N that was wonderful!” You hear the familiar voice of your boyfriend praise, him running to you and hugging you tightly. He pecked your cheeks and held onto your arms. “My love that might just have been your best performance yet,” You snorted at his comment “Reo, you say that after every performance.”

“Well every performance is perfect my love,” Reo quips, his face into a smooth grin. Behind him trailed Nagi, who slurred a ‘good job’ with a thumbs up. Reo pulls back a bit and hands you a beautiful bouquet you can’t help but smile at. It was so pretty, full of tulips and lillies and smaller flowers complimenting the main ones.

“Thank you Reo,” you smiled before kissing his cheek. “Of course my love, just doing my job,”  <3

ISAGI YOICHI

oh he is so cute

You 100% get him into the world of theater

Thinks that it’s really cool how you’re passionate about this

Super supportive— tells all his friends about your plays and all of the stuff you like

His favorite broadway shows are Dear Evan Hanson and Hamilton— he thinks King George is hilarious

He likes being involved with your plays anyway he can—he will be try to be involved if he is free

Tells his family all about your performance!!

The whole family goes to your shows (≧∀≦)

Tries to memorize your lines / the plays lines with you but forgets them 💀

(or) Tries helping you with props/technical stuff but doesn’t know what to do so he just stands there 😭

“Yoichi- can you pass me the yellow please?” You asked from sitting on the floor, paint brush in hand. On the floor was props you were tasked with making. 

“Here,” Yoichi hands the paint bucket to you as he watches you pour some on your pallet. You guys were supposed to go out tonight but you still had some props you needed to finish— so Yoichi offered to keep you company. “Uhm, are you sure you don’t need any help..?” He nervously asks. 

“Oh no I’m okay, thanks though,” you happily replied, you already felt bad for canceling date night and didn’t want to ‘burden’ him with helping you. “Oh okay,” he sits back down on the floor and continues to watch you. 

“…Did you wanna help?” You slowly asked. 

“I dunno,”

“Yoichi”

“Yeah..”

You softly sighed and handed him a brush. “Here, you can paint the moon,” You stood up and grabbed the unfinished moon set-prop. Yoichi nodded eagerly as he started painting. His strokes were in all directions— you’d have to go over them later but you didn’t mind too much. He looked so cute with his brow slightly furrowed when he concentrated on painting the edges.

“How’s this?” Yoichi asks, pointing to his moon with a little grin. “It’s perfection,” you praise, which he responds with a soft ‘thanks’ as he admires his work. <3

ITOSHI RIN

lmao he does NOT get it 😭💀

like you showed him a clip of your fav musical and he was like ??? Ppl ACTUALLY like that..?? (Ignore him he’s stupid)

but SUPER supportive of your performances!! he just lacks artistic appreciation, aaaand he has as much creativity as a wet sock, so yk

When he comes to your performances, he always brings a small but pretty bouquet (he’s beet red when he hands them to you >< )

You have desperately tried to get him into the arts— which just continued to confuse him🫠

He likes Shakespeare though??? which is probably like the only plays he will willing watch (aside for yours ehe:3)

You call him your Romeo ;) (he gets embarrassed and gets mad at you LMAO)

Lmao he should’ve never voiced his ‘like’ for Shakespeare bc when ever he asks you a simple question you’ll end up going “To be or not to be, that is the question” (que rin groaning)

“Rin, you need to put more emotion into it!!” You exasperatedly said, flinging your paper up. You had asked Rin to go over your lines with you, which was a stupid idea to begin with. He ticked his jaw, fingers firmly pressing into the paper.

“tch. This is stupid,” Rin answered, glaring at you. You sighed, “I can’t feel the scene if you sound like a robot!”Rin huffed, his pride clearly wounded. He groaned and flicked the paper back and examined it again.

“What. do. you. mean he’s. been. lying?” Rin reads, his voice flat. 

You internally sigh, “I’m not sure, but when I asked him he was acting strange..” you spoke, already memorized your lines. “Could. it have. something. to do .with his. sister?” “No- he wouldn’t tell her about something like that… Unless!!” You clapped your hands.

“YAAAY!! I FINALLY NAILED MY TIMING!!” You exclaimed, clapping your hands excitedly. You then tackled Rin, who was sitting on your bed, catching his lips in a fat smooch. “Thanks honey, I really appreciate you tryin,” you praise, hands resting on his shoulders. 

“Tch.. It’s nothing..” Rin muttered, his hand coming to rest on your waist. “I’m never doing this again,” you snickered at his mood change  (he’s gonna end up helping next time you ask <3)

help Ik that was so bad 💀

BACHIRA MEGURU

AJHSNJANANNRNE 

HE MATCHES UR FREAK!!!!

LIKE HE GETS IT FR!!!

omg you wanna binge watch Chicago, Six, and Heathers? WELL SO DOES BACHIRA!

yall sing musicals together all the time like- yall are in character doing the choreography and all

He loves watching musicals sm

And he LOVES watching you perform/work in theater

Like- seriously goes to all of your shows, even rehearsals if he can

Gets super immersed in your performances- thinks it’s 10x better than any broadway show

Loves seeing your/the costumes- will definitely try to try them on (before he gets caught and gets in trouble lmao)

After every performance he takes you to go get ice cream- a little ritual you guys have :3

OH. And he tries to match his outfit to what your play is >< (keyword, tries)

He brings his mom to your plays and she whistles and claps so loud when the plays over 😭💗

“Y/N you were friggin’ awesome!!!” Bachira exclaimed, hands swinging yours back and forth. “I wasn’t even on stage for 5 minutes,” you snorted. “Well you were the best one there! Being a tree takes a lot of skill y’know!!” He grins, pulling you along faster. 

You finally arrived at the sacred land, Benny’s Ice Cream Parlor. Bachira ordered for both of you, handing you one cone of (Fav Flavor). You sat down on the bench, already licking your cone. Bachira put his foot on the bench, “Ahem, Ahem,” He began, lifting his ice cream up. “I would like to make a toast!,” You smile at his antics, waiting for what he’ll say next. “A toast to the best play in the history of the plays!” You snickered, raising your cone “A toast!” You said, ‘clinking’ your ice creams together. 

“Ah, being Tree #4 is no easy task…” You dramatically sighed, licking your ice cream. Bachira shook his head. “Tut tut..,” you both snickered, finishing your ice creams and heading back home. <3

bllk mlist

taglist: @gigiiiiislife @sharkissm @luvingshidou @kurona-theshark @soleilonthesun @duckydee-0 @rinitoshisgirl @someprettyname @nikomelo

kanakakannakkkse ive rewritten the Drabble so many times bro 😭😭 ARGH AJSNSNANANA

made August 22nd 2024

[literary-illuminati]

2025 Book Review #10 – meat4meat (ed. Gray Levesque)

This is I think the first book I have ever read before it was published – as of posting the crowdfunding campaign is still ongoing! - so it’s a fun novelty to be able to say that I received an early copy of this book in exchange for an honest review. The book itself is also – well okay no, ‘fun’ is probably not actually the correct word, but it’s a body horror collection that succeeded at making me physically queasy at several points so it’s an unqualified artistic success in at least one dimension.

meat4meat is a short story horror anthology – specifically body horror, extra specifically body horror as written by trans and disabled authors (to quote the marketing copy, ‘by those who know it best’) – properly speaking it is an illustrated anthology, but that art wasn’t ready for inclusion in the copy I read, so I’ll stick to talking about the writing. Within the very vague remit the book sets out for itself, there’s no real unifying theme or much of a throughline between the eighteen stories included. They’re all very much short stories – I don’t think any were over twenty pages? - and flipping between them is a study in serial whiplash. Writing style, subject matter, thematic concerns and perspectives, even just conceptions of what ‘body horror’ means all vary drastically from story to story.

To be clear, I consider this a huge positive – it’s an anthology that really lives up to the potential of the medium, and makes an honest effort of capturing the diversity of perspective that’s pretty clearly part of the artistic project here. It also just keeps the reading experience from ever dragging or getting monotonous – if I do not vibe with one author (as is inevitable with these things), there’s a dozen and change others with entirely different takes on the subject. Even if it is somewhat grating to have one story use different paragraph breaks and spacing from the next.

I’m on record as often being pretty annoyed with how ‘horror’ as a genre label is used in books these days – which is to say how often it ends up being life-affirming tales of togetherness and found family but cast from the universal monsters catalogue – so for the sake of consistency I should really praise meat for really living up to the genre label. Even the stories happily framed from the perspective of something monstrously inhuman and happy about it are more than fucked up enough to still be compelling reading.

I’m also very much on record as thinkingthat horror is far better suited to short stories than novels; the extra length of which seems to bring a pressure towards explaining things and giving neat, validating endings on the one hand and on dragging out the tension past what the reveal can sustain on the other. This book’s an excellent case study of that – most of the stories are bare handfuls of scenes, hitting a particular beat or bit of imagery with as much force as they can; very nearly all of them can be summed up as ‘something really fucked up happens to someone’. Triumphantly happy and reassuring endings are thin on the ground, extended denouncements nonexistent. If anything, there are a couple stories that probably could have used a bit more space to breathe – ending up feeling more like imagery without the connective tissue or context to really make it land – but that’s just the natural tradeoff of the format forcing focus and writing economy.

Speaking of imagery – the book advertises itself as a body horror anthology, and it is not lying. There are several stories I would really recommend skipping if you have a weak stomach (which is, in this context, high praise). There’s also several stories that do take a more symbolic or oblique tack when discussing the ruin and gore they make of the human body (a couple of them are some of my favourites in the whole book), but I’d be lying if I didn’t say that the most memorable by far are the gleefully, explicitly vulgar and carnal ones. Here meant in the most literal sense of being fixated on the mess and meat of your body, the way parts of you can swell and suppurate and rot and burst before your eyes (though there are one or two that leave you acutely aware the only difference between horror and niche erotica is framing and perspective).

The anthology is themed around trans and disabled authors, and it’s really very interesting how different stories lean into that. Some are very literally and directly about e.g. the misery and desperate hope of looking for a doctor who can help you until you’re willing to look past every red flag from one who says they will, others are far more symbolic or metaphorical (or else simply aren’t stories I would have though to view through that lens if they were in any other book). There is little (though not no) body horror in the sense of shocking and gory violence or something directly inflicted upon you by an obvious outside force. Instead it’s the horror of the body being usurped or broken from within, horrifying parasitism, some invisible injury or lack making it impossible to do what is expected of you, or a terrifying transformation that’s only dimly understood as it’s lived through that predominate. There are, unsurprisingly, quite a few stories that are in one way or another about the horror of pregnancy, of some disease or failing leaving you so disgusting as to be exiled from conventional society, or both.

While there isn’t much of a unifying subject or throughline between all the stories in the book, the organization and ordering of them actually does a very good job highlighting similarities between specific pairs or small sets of them. One story that is in some sense about or preoccupied with pregnancy or disfigurement or parasitism or romantic connection will be followed by another with an entirely different setting, plot and subject matter which is still very interested in the same theme. It works very well to give the book a sense of cohesion and structure, and makes some of the stories feel like much more than the sum of their parts.

This is definitely a book for a very specific audience – the kind who will read a first story that starts with strange pupating growths breaking across the narrators chest being described in careful and loving detail, and happily power through as it mostly just escalates from there. But for that audience, I absolutely recommend giving this a try.

In which case, the crowdfunding campaign is still active until March 11th – you can back it here.

[kudouusagi]

Pash Utsumi Hiroko Interview

It's sure to be a heartwarming, Fan & Fun experience!

It's about the moments you weren't able to see in the main series.

--Looking back at the scenario meetings, is there anything that stands out in your memory?

Like the fact that there was a longer version where (series writer) Ookouchi Ichirou, the producers, and I all came up with ideas for what to do in the OVA and decided on it, only to realize it didn't fit into the time limit plan I came up with myself and so it was rejected (laughs). Of course Reki and Langa are the main characters so they're going to appear in the OVA but we really wanted to include them all... and that would be difficult to do in one story so we made it into an omnibus format.

--What do you want people to pay attention to in this OVA?

I'd like it if you could check which scenes were shown in the PV. For example, Reki and the others play karuta, but what kind of karuta is it? Who's playing against who? Will Langa, who is bad at reading and writing, be okay?! In the part with Sakurayashiki and Nanjo set in the past, what was their high school life like? What were their fights like back then? How developed are Nanjo's muscles?! Also, the unknown life of Kikuchi, which was kept top-secret in the main story, is revealed...!?! And more!

--Please tell us about what you remember when looking back on recording the voices for this OVA.

I was happy to see that Hatanaka Tasuku-san, who plays Reki, and Kobayashi Chiaki-san, who plays Langa, were still the same Reki and Langa even though several years had passed. I didn't feel any time had past... ∞(eternal) Friendship! It was also memorable how Koyasu Takehito-san, who plays Ainosuke, struggled with a certain scene. Look forward to finding out which scene it was! It had been a while since I last did the voice recording for SK8, and it brought back memories for me, making me feel like SK8 was back!

--What exactly is the theme for this OVA...?

Since it is an omnibus format, there is no overall theme, but they're each filling a gap that wasn't able to be seen in the main story.

--In order to get to know the characters more deeply before the OVA is released, are there any behind-the-scenes details that you haven't revealed yet (that you couldn't show in the first season of the TV series)?

The different headband Reki is wearing in the OVA PV is a souvenir present from his sister Koyomi. It's shaped like an akabeko with a tiger pattern... it's quite unique. Reki only wears it at home. Langa doesn't care about clothes, so he'll wear anything that's comfortable to move in, so he's wearing something strange this time. Please check out the OVA to find out the details☆

--For those who are rewatching the first season of the TV series, what are some of the points you would like people to pay special attention to?

Don't miss anything! The relationship between MIYA and Reki, the outcome of Hiromi's fleeting love, the current fight scenes between Sakurayashiki and Nanjo, the vibe of the master and dog relationship between Ainosuke and Kikuchi, etc. The bond between Reki and Langa through the whole series and how it develops into friendship, keeps your eyes peeled on it till the very end!! And since the theme song for this OVA was created with the TV series in mind, so I'm certain it will improve your understanding if you watch the whole series and think of it while listening to it☆

--Finally, please give a message to the fans of "SK8". 

We're sorry to have kept you waiting for so long, but thanks to everyone who has been waiting that the day we can finally deliver it to you is fast approaching...! There's only a few more sleeps till the OVA is here ♬ How about going to the cinema to watch "SK8 EXTRAPART" as the finale to your New Year's celebrations? It's sure to be a heartwarming, Fan & Fun experience! Please look forward to its release☆

[6okuto]

EASY SWEETNESS

itadori x gn!reader | insecure reader (about your laugh and... what you look like from an angle below? he's lying on your chest and you won't look down at him)

itadori’s a sweetheart without really trying.

maybe it’s just another one of his talents, you wonder—his way of making your heart skip a beat. compliments, gifts, how, with his back turned, his hand could find yours solely from the sound of your voice. it seemed to be as ingrained in him as the raw strength he held, or the recipe to his favourite late night noodles that he made every week; practiced yet somehow innate.

“you’re such a sweet talker, yuuji,” you deflected his compliment once (you had said something about not liking your laugh, and he had called it sweet instead, because there was no bad laugh, especially yours that he always wanted to hear), warmth tingling your face and ears.

“huh?” he tilted his head. “well, i guess so…wait, no? yes? it’s just the truth, though. is it sweet talking if it’s just being honest?”

you can’t help yourself from thinking back to that as he rests on top of you, favourite throw blanket covering the both of you and tucked beneath your feet so you wouldn’t get cold, and a movie you’ve both watched a dozen times plays on the television screen.

it was a comedy—one that yuuji happened to play in the background as he studied but, inevitably, distracted him from it. he told you it stuck with him, and it’s found its way back to viewership every few months when he feels like unwinding.

it was really only a matter of time before you took part too.

you’ve both got lines memorized from the words down to the pace they’re said, even the cut-offs by other characters and the noises playing in the background. you feel the rumble before you hear yuuji’s voice, smushed like his face against your chest, as he acts out the scene.

“hey, you think at some point we’ll have the whole movie memorized?” he asks, moving to look up at you with his chin resting against you.

and the thing about someone resting on your chest is that you have to look down when you speak, and the problem with that is that the angle isn’t all that flattering.

so you smile, eyes fixed on the screen yet not following a single word being said as you become aware of the angle of your head, and what you look like from a few inches away. “maybe. that’d take at least a few more dozen watches though, unless we’re talking active memorization.”

“then what about with active memorization?”

“hm…for you? i’d still say at least a dozen. movies are really long you know?”

“and you?”

“probably the same? like, if it’s just us two, that’s a lot of lines, and i don’t think megumi would be ecstatic to join. nobara, maybe.”

a character begins to yell at another as your fingers come to card through yuuji’s hair—yuuji, whose response seems to be silence until—“babe.”

“hm?”

“why won’t you look at me?”

you snort, fingers pausing so you can gently mess with his hair instead. “i look bad from that angle, yuu.”

and you hope, maybe, he’ll leave it there, move back to the memorization idea, pick the characters he’d act out best. it really isn’t a favourable angle for anyone, so maybe he won’t look much further into the way your lips form a tight smile, or the forced breathy laugh at whatever’s just happened on screen.

“no you don’t,” he says matter-of-factly.

“...yuuji, really—”

“i think you look nice from every angle.” yuuji rests his cheek against you again. and you let your eyes flicker down, just once, just to see him grin as soon as your gazes connect. “i like looking at you from anywhere, but especially here.”

you shoot him a look of disbelief. “that’s your favourite spot to look at me from?”

“well.” he shifts his legs and kicks the blanket a little, untucking it from beneath you. “any spot that’s super close is nice so i can really see you, and do this—”

yuuji grunts a little as he moves up to kiss your cheek, hands finding home beside your head—you can feel him grinning even before he’s moved away to look at you.

“and you say you aren’t a sweet talker,” you murmur, face warm and housing a stupidly lovesick grin.

“hey.” he pouts. “i’m telling you i’m not a sweet talker, it’s just the truth as your boyfriend.”

“sweet talker.”

“i’m sweet and a talker. not a sweet talker.”

“okay, sweetie.” you try to joke and scrunch your nose, the pet name awkward and foreign on your tongue, but yuuji only smiles again in response.

“yeah, that works too. should we start calling each other sweetie now? i think it kind of fits.” 

“yuuji—”and you’re convinced he has a talent now, because even as he exaggerates the new term with a sickeningly sweet voice, it manages to roll off his tongue as naturally as every other compliment he’s said to the point that you think maybe you wouldn’t mind him using it—“yeah, sweetie?”

i'm gonna be so fr sweetness looks like a silly word to me rn. specfically when all capitalized...SWEETNESS... girl what is that

[five-and-dimes]

🥶🥶 for the ask thing :)

The end of this snippet is definitely something I've shared before, but because of you I finally wrote the part that connects it to the last scene! Progress! 🙌

“I would not want to intrude…” he says slowly. Hob waves him off, “Nonsense, it looks like the end of days out there, what kind of mate would I be if I let you out in that? You’d probably blow away.” Dream huffed, a little offended, but he couldn’t deny Hob had a point, “Well… thank you,” he muttered awkwardly. “No problem!” Hob began stacking their books and putting their notes into orderly piles. Dream assisted, putting his own supplies back into his backpack and handing Hob the highlighters that were just out of his reach. “I can loan you some sweats. And I know the bed is small, but I got one of those mattress toppers so it’s super comfy at least-” “Wait-” Dream interrupted, blinking in confusion, “I will simply sleep on the floor. I do not mind.” Hob shrugged, “I don’t mind sharing if you don’t.” For a moment, Dream opened and closed his mouth, no words coming out. Finally, he explains softly, “I do not wish to disturb your rest. I have been told I am. Unpleasant to share a bed with.” Hob looks up from where he was rifling through his dresser, appalled, “Someone said that to you?” “Many have.” Many have said much worse. Few people bother softening their words to Dream. On one memorable occasion a hookup had laughed in his ear and said he felt like he was fucking a corpse. After he finished, he’d practically shoved Dream out the door, cheerfully letting him know “this ain’t a morgue, sweetheart” with a wink before slamming the door in his face. When he got home, he sat in the shower for hours, wondering why no one had a problem with his body when they were fucking him, but they did when he wanted anything else. But. Hob does not need these details. Strangely, he looks upset with the little Dream has revealed. “God, people can be such assholes.” Dream tilted his head, “You often talk about how much you value truthfulness. I would think you’d appreciate their brutal honesty.” “I hate brutal honesty.” The vehemence in his voice catches Dream by surprise. Turning to give Dream his full attention, Hob continues, “The whole ‘brutal honesty’ thing is an excuse people use to get away with being cruel. I value compassionate honesty. Much different.” Not for the first time, Dream thinks that Hob Gadling is the strangest man he’s ever met. “Very well,” he responds slowly, “In that case. Out of compassion, I will tell you that I am a poor bedmate. You are being very kind to let me stay the night, you need not sacrifice your comfort as well.” Hob hums in consideration, crossing his arms as he looks at Dream in consideration, “Would it make you uncomfortable?” The question catches him by surprise, and for a moment Dream just blinks at him. “Pardon?” “Well, you keep going on about my comfort,” Hob points out, “If you’re uncomfortable sharing, and this is like, your roundabout way of getting out of it, that’s totally fine, I’ll drop it,” He raises an eyebrow like a challenge, “But be honest.”

[pippin-katz]

One Shots in Red, White & Royal Blue - Part 1: Alex's Room

Modern movies are fucking obsessed with jump cuts. Even scenes where it is completely unnecessary get cut to shreds. There's films I've seen where one, single sentence line got three jump cuts in it.

After watching Red, White, & Royal Blue over ten times now, I’ve noticed so many moments where they could’ve made jump cuts, but didn’t. There were moments where I was expecting it to cut because of how used I am to other movies cutting the shit out of scenes. They did not do that here, and believe me, it makes a difference.

Cuts temporarily remind the viewer that they're watching something scripted, professionally filmed, and edited. It's a subconscious feeling that most people probably don't even notice.

In case you're unfamiliar, a one shot in film is when a sequence happens without any cuts. One of the benefits of using them is the believability they add. Any amount of time could've progressed between cuts, like if they film a scene on two different days. When you see everything happening in real time, it just feels more real.

Red, White, & Royal Blue balanced their editing and camerawork incredibly well, and utilized one shots way more than I see a lot of other films doing nowadays. They use it for a variety of scenes, and it's done very well.

Example No. 1

From this moment, where Henry enters the room:

GIF by taylorz-nicholasg

To Henry pushing Alex onto the couch:

GIF by sheisraging

To when the sequence ends:

GIF by gay-bucky-barnes

is ALL ONE SHOT.

There are no camera cuts during that sequence, and there's a significant amount of movement and activity going on.

They are obviously aggressively making out, and crossing the room at the same time. Tracking this part might be common, but when they get to the couch, and Henry pushes him, I got this gut feeling that a jump cut was about to happen, but it didn't.

Instead, the camera rotates around to that side perspective, and lets Henry come back into frame and onto the couch in real time.

GIF by sheisraging

The camera doesn't change position until Henry moves down, which could've been a cut to Alex's face, but they opted to zoom in on him, keeping the shot connected.

GIF by sheisraging

This is not a small series of events to capture in one shot, and it means that Nicholas and Taylor had to memorize and perform the entire scene's blocking as a whole rather than in parts. If they mess up, they can't just say: "hey try that line again"

A one shot scene like this means that if you mess up at any point during the sequence, you can't use the take. You have to do it again from the beginning. That's the point of a one shot.

I think it's such a testament to Taylor and Nicholas' talent, skill, and dedication that they did such a long shot involving so much intimate, and difficult, choreography.

Breaking it down, they have to kiss for the first part, but it's not just kissing; it's aggressive kissing. Their eyes are closed, and they're grabbing at each other, while crossing the room. Taylor has to walk backwards. They need to have really good spatial awareness in order to move without hitting something or tripping.

Once they hit the couch, Nicholas has to undo the buttons on Taylor's shirt. If you've ever worn a button-down shirt, you know that sometimes you just struggle with those damn buttons; there's a moment in Paris where they joke about them. Nick has to undo them fast, and deliver his lines too. If he's too slow with the buttons, or they get stuck, take ruined.

Nick has to shove Taylor onto the couch. He has to be visibly forceful, but not knock him down so hard he falls off the couch, or land in a way that make it difficult for him to shift into where he's supposed to be. Nick also has to climb around onto the couch fast enough.

Obviously once they're on the couch, the difficulty comes in that they are being intimate, kissing and grabbing each other, and they need to remain in character. Then they have lines, and Nicholas has to get even more intimate by kissing his neck. He undoes another button or two and kisses his chest and down his stomach, all while delivering his lines correctly.

If either of them messes up a line, or breaks character for a second, or loses their balance, or anything, go back to the start, do it all again.

That is so much, and the two of them nailed every part of it. I still admire how they were able to trust each other and become confident in doing all that they do.

This being a one shot created a really incredible scene. It's fluid, and grounded in space and time. It's not the only scene that's drastically improved by the fact that it's a one shot, so I'll probably write more essays breaking down those scenes cause this movie has me in a choke hold.

Update: If you enjoyed this essay & would like to support me, you can give me a tip on my Ko-Fi! ☺️

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I've been trying to focus on thinking about things I enjoy about the idea of the TWST anime. And regarding overblots, I think an anime version would really help illustrate (even more) how terrifying the process is. I really like how the manga shows Riddle's OB, and I love anime as a medium, so I'm pretty hyped to see how it will be conveyed in it.

I really hope they accentuate the horror of it- I'm aware that they might not go all in w the horror like I would personally like, but the thought still excites me. What kind of music will they play? Will the animation change like it does in some animes when the characters are distressed (wobbly lines, glitchy effects)...? What sort of directions will the voice actors get? I mean, they already voiced the game, but anime gives them more room to do voice stuff. I'm really hyped for this aspect tbh...

And I'm also excited for the possibility of dubs, since I'm quite a fan of the whole dubbing world. (I know some ppl have their fears about this last possibility, but in my case even if it turns out to not be so good, I think we could still have a good time w something like that. Plus I've seen some popular eng dub actors hyped about the anime and wanting to be casted for certain characters)

I also wanted to apologize for my previous ask ᕙ⁠(⁠⇀⁠‸⁠↼⁠‶⁠)⁠ᕗ I already did so in the comments, but I felt bad about doomposting on your inbox. My mind's first reaction is usually to see the negative first and become anxious, and it's something I'm working on, but it sometimes goes out of hand. But now that a bit has passed, and specially thanks to your advice, I can sit down and try to focus on the things that excite me rather than the ones that scare me. Sure, building too much expectation could backfire at the end— but as you said, we have little to no information at this point. So I think focusing on the things I'd like to see is a better usage of my time. If they turn out to disappoint me... That's something I'll worry about next year, I'll suppose. I'm still a bit anxious and scared, but there's also lots of things I'm hyped for. I'll try to take your advice and focus on those. 🫂 Sorry if my previous negativity made you uncomfortable.

[Referencing this news! Asker’s prior post here.]

I’ve seen a lot of fans speculating that the OB transformation sequences will resemble magical girl ones! While that’s a fun idea, I do feel like it makes more sense for the anime to portray OB as something scary and all-consuming, similar to how it is depicted at the end of animated dorm commercials and in the manga. For the characters experiencing them, it’s not meant to be glamorous… All that agony, the dripping ink leaking out of their orifices and dripping like blood. Overblot looks incredibly horrific, and I think that should come through in the animation—whether they change the usual style for these segments or keep it the same.

I think the anime would reuse (or maybe do remastered versions of?) the Twst soundtrack for a lot of the show. The compositions are already there, so might as well. Maybe experiencing the anime will help to make the music more memorable, since it seems the game soundtrack alone isn’t doing it for some fans.

No clue about the JP voice cast; I did see some people worrying that they could replace the game’s voice cast for the anime, but as I’ve mentioned already, that’s an unfounded claim. If the usual VAs are there, surely they won’t just reuse the already recorded lines from the game?? 😂 I’d think they’d at least have to rerecord those based on how the script and its scenes are laid out, plus additional dialogue to fill in the gaps (such as new scenes).

No confirmation of an English (or other language) dubs yet either! (Again, this is another topic related to the anime that sparks worry, but I must stress that it’s pointless to get into a tizzy about something that isn’t concrete yet.) But yes, I’ve already seen English VAs expressing interest in certain characters; Daman Mills wants to audition for Malleus, Alejandro Saab has made it known he has Twst on his radar and wants to voice Leona, etc. (The latter has done Twst dorm leader impressions for fun before; I think Mr. Saab could make for a decent Leona or even Malleus!)

Don't worry about the previous ask ^^ I think it's better that we discuss these things with one another rather than post or tweet into the void and allow those negative feelings to fester. If you want to view it in a different way, think of it like the OB boys actually getting therapy/finding someone to confide in instead of being allowed to stew in their own emotions and risking OB a second time. Sometimes all it takes is that gentle nudge or a reminder to step back and take a deep breath. When we let our emotions get the best of us, we end up thinking and acting in irrational ways, and then that can lead to people--whether yourself or others--getting hurt.

[d3lly1000]

I finally watched Sonic 3!!!!! (IT WAS ONE OF THE BEST EXPERIENCES OF MY LIFE)

I had been holding back so I could talk without worrying about spoilers, but I think I can now comment on my general opinion of the movie.

There will be spoilers, so you have been warned!

I’ll admit that I found the first act a bit rushed. I understand that they had a lot of characters to “reintroduce” and new ones to add (especially Shadow), but I felt a bit lost with what was happening—it was really convenient how the script handled a lot of things just to get to the point.

For example: Shadow attacking in Japan with no real explanation, Rockwell quickly finding Sonic and the others. Even Commander Walters showed up just to explain what happened in the past, only to die unexpectedly right after. Even though he's not a particularly memorable character, I felt like his death didn’t carry the weight it should have, even for Team Sonic who witnessed it.

There was also the fact that a lot of what happened in the first act had already been revealed in the trailers and TV spots, which kind of deflated my excitement, knowing what was going to happen. But as I said, things were happening so fast that I couldn’t process all the information right away! XD

I have to say, I absolutely love the interactions between all the characters. The relationships and how they were developed felt so unique to me. I’ve always had the headcanon that Knuckles, Tails, and Sonic acted like siblings, and in the movies, I got to witness that in a meaningful and very loving way (shoutout to Tails saving Sonic and Knuckles protecting them, my boys <3).

One of my favorite scenes is definitely the argument between Knuckles and Sonic, as it really shows their maturity. It shows how much they are changing with each movie, which is so valuable to me because it demonstrates that the characters are really learning from their experiences. In a franchise, this deepens their moral journey and enriches who they are — it’s truly wonderful.

Speaking of siblings, I can’t not talk about Maria and Shadow. Right from the beginning, I could already feel the heartache hearing Live and Learn in an acoustic version. I think for fans who know how iconic this song is for the franchise, the idea that MARIA COULD HAVE BEEN THE ORIGINAL COMPOSER of it (at least in the SCU) hits so hard.

The narrative of Shadow talking about Maria always moved me, and the film managed to emphasize what she meant to Shadow in such a sweet way. Seeing the scene where Shadow recalls the day of the accident and then carrying the Eclipse Cannon gave me chills.

The parallels between Sonic/Shadow and Tom/Maria were something I was really looking forward to! The franchise often makes these types of comparisons between characters, not just in the games but also in the movies. As I mentioned before, I think this makes everything richer — it gives you a new perspective and helps you understand the complexity of characters by revisiting the "same memory" through a different person. I love when they do that!

ABOUT THE FIGHT SCENES, ALL OF THEM. I was breathless! I have to confess I was cursing A LOT during the third act. It was so epic, something you wouldn’t even think you'd see! Super Form battles were such a great concept for the situation, seeing Sonic get so angry really fed my fan dream of seeing him want to destroy everything XDD. Shadow literally crushed him, both physically and mentally. He REALLY IS THE STAR of this movie. The whole year was his. And he delivered in every possible media!

((I screamed so much when they did the pose, Live and Learn, it was so epic.))

Jim Carrey’s performance is always amazing. I’m still stunned at how naturally Gerald and Eggman felt together. It really seemed like a completely different actor, and that’s insane! I think the only thing I wish we’d seen more of was scenes between Gerald and Maria in the past, but who knows, maybe they’re planning something for a "Shadow solo spin-off."

The light shines, even when the star dies. – I was already emotionally losing it inside, there were just so many things to process.

AND THE POST-CREDITS SCENE HAUSFHSAIFHGVSNUHGUSAHGUSAH

OK OK I’M >TOTALLY< NORMAL ABOUT MY BABIES

Literally my two FAVORITES showed up. METAL WILL BE THE MAIN VILLAIN, I have so many theories and DEFINITELY it will be an adaptation of Heroes and CD. I CAN'T WAIT to see him in action, the whole Artificial vs. Natural thing is something that really resonates with me in the rivalry between him and Sonic.

AND HAUSHFUASFHUASFH AMY MY GIRL!!!

She’s so cool, she appeared in SUCH A UNIQUE way, the cracked moon in the background, revealing herself by taking off the hood... I can’t wait to see her in 2027... I need it so much aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

I definitely loved the movie a lot. I still want to rewatch it in English since I saw it dubbed in my language, but I think I’d give it an 8.5/10 or 9/10! YOU HAVE TO SEE THIS MOVIE!! I’m still shaking remembering the action scene sahufzahghaghs