#yes they’re dressing up as their actors previous roles

[maryhanaae4]

happy (late-ish) halloween

[catch-me-hello]

Shining SOLO, Episode 3: Attack of the Perfectly Nice Women

We ended on a cliffhanger last time. Let’s hope the mystery woman entering the house will be able to fix the strange dating mission that has left three of our TREASURE guys hanging out at the house with nothing to do.

But we know how these shows jump around by now. We open this episode back at the folk village with Junkyu, Ye Won, and Ji Yeon. They’re having lunch at the nicest food court I’ve ever seen. As they eat, Ye Won asks Jungku who the shyest person in TREASURE is. Jungku calls it a three-way tie between Haruto, Asahi, and Jae Hyuk. If he could see Haruto over at the bowling alley right now, he might drop that name from the list.

After lunch, they go to the part of the village that actually has amusement park rides. The Viking Ship gives them pause because it looks scary. They decide to give it a try, even though the girls are wearing those billowy dresses, and they all just had lunch. Ye Won looks very nervous, and I don’t blame her. I’m not big on those kinds of rides either. As soon as the ride starts, she puts her head down and hangs on for dear life.

This is probably a bad time to remind her that she could have been at the movies with Asahi. In fact, I just looked up some Asahi Fun Facts and learned that his favorite actor is Leonardo DiCaprio. She could have been at a nice theater somewhere, eating popcorn and watching the Buz Luhrmann version of The Great Gatsby right now. Just saying.

Okay, Lala, but if it’s fear you want, she could have been watching Shutter Island with Asahi. Or … (Googling “Leonardo DiCaprio horror movies”) she could be watching … Critters 3. Okay, I’m not making my point very well. Back to our show.

Junkyu is concerned about Ye Won and talks reassuringly to her through the ride. She finally puts her head up for the last swing. She’s a bit dazed when it’s over, but she’s okay. Later, in a confessional, she tells us how impressed she was by the way Junkyu looked out for her.

Moving on. Time to check in on Haruto’s bowling date with Mi Ho and So Won. They’ve moved on to a café for lunch. While they wait for their food, Mi Ho asks if they should drop the honorifics now. To Western ears, this sounds like a simple request, but Haruto isn’t sure he can switch to casual language. Korean sounds like an incredibly complicated language to learn. It’s not just what you say, it’s the tone and showing respect.

Haruto decides to give it a shot. He asks if they’ve eaten anything today, and I really wish I could hear the difference in the way he’s speaking to them now. Mi Ho says she hasn’t eaten yet today, but So Won casually says she had a sandwich earlier and eats six meals a day. Okay, I still love Ye Won’s style, but personality-wise, Se Won is the one I’d want to hang out with. She’s tomboyish, fun, bowls like a champ, and eats when she’s hungry without apologizing for her hunger or worrying that she’s not being ladylike. She even tells Haruto that the previous day, when she was hungry, she got snacks out of the fridge and ate them while playing Jenga with everyone in the living room. She is a role model. Go Canada!

The trio continues their conversation, but Haruto is still hesitant as he tries to speak casually. He’s twenty years old, and both girls are older, so I’m guessing he feels like he’s being disrespectful, even though they’re the ones who suggested it.

The food arrives, and this is officially the best date ever. Someone take me bowling and feed me like this. You can use whatever honorifics you like.

Out of nowhere, Haruto surprises me with his boldness. Now that he’s getting used to speaking more casually, he looks directly across the table at So Won and asks, “Why did you give me a voice recorder?” Boom! Here we go!

There’s a few seconds of awkward silence, and then all three start nervously laughing. Mi Ho quickly excuses herself and gets ready to bolt for the ladies’ room so Haruto and So Won can talk.

So Won looks confused and says she doesn’t think she was the one who left him the recording, which stops me dead. I wasn’t expecting her to deny it. Did she maybe put the recorder in the wrong locker? Oh no … was Asahi supposed to get THREE recorders?

Here’s where Mi Ho sits back down. She’s not missing a word of this. Girl, same.

Haruto pushes back with So Won. He says he recognized her voice on the recorder. Her response: “Don’t they modulate the voice on that?” WHAT? Did the women think their voices would be disguised? Also, I’m so disappointed that So Won is trying to lie about it, especially since she seemed straightforward and fearless a minute ago. Now, she’s so thrown at being confronted that she’s trying to wipe her mouth with her hand, too rattled to reach for a napkin.

So Won starts stress-eating and says with a mouthful of fries that they had hardly talked, and then she stops mid-sentence and asks if hers was the only recorder he got. He says yes.

Mi Ho steps in to try to diffuse the situation. “It’s really a shame we couldn’t talk much yesterday out of shyness,” she says. Haruto agrees. Mi Ho adds, “If we had talked like this yesterday, we would have gotten much closer.” She tries to interpret what So Won said on the recorder as meaning she was excited to see what Haruto would be like the next day, when they spoke again.

Mi Ho is a loyal soul for jumping in to help So Won like this. But if So Won had  the courage I thought she did, Mi Ho wouldn’t have had to intervene at all.

Mi Ho the diplomat

So Won, still chewing and reaching for more fries, tells Haruto that today’s bowling date was very thoughtful. Mi Ho agrees. Haruto smiles at that, and So Won finally finds her napkin. “I feel like today was really productive,” Mi Ho tells Haruto. “It was unexpected.”

Haruto says he feels better after her compliment. Mi Ho seriously deserves a jewel for saving that situation. So Won tells us that Haruto is like a totally different person today (in a good way), and I could say the same about her (not in a good way).

Turns out Mi Ho came in last place in bowling, so she’s got to buy the snacks for the house. Well, that’s a bummer. Speaking of the house, we finally cut to the mystery woman arriving. Time to see what’s going on here. I find it funny that the guys go into panic mode when they see her on the security monitor, thinking she’s the homeowner, and they’re in trouble. Did they break into the house to film this?

The woman walks in, and the guys react like a grizzly bear just lumbered into the living room. They legit look frightened. Asahi is literally pressed up against the wall.

Asahi is running from a non-threatening girl. This is actually happening. You'd think she was covered in blood and carrying an axe.  What is wrong with these guys?

Jihoon finally invites the poor girl to have a seat in the living room. If she had actually been the homeowner, she’d probably wonder if her house was being used to keep hostages.

The girl sits in the living room and watches in bewilderment while the guys scramble around the kitchen, frantically trying to decide what to do next. They know she can see and hear them, right? This can’t be for real. I know these 20-something year-old men have been isolated as trainees, but as children, did NO ONE ever visit their homes? They NEVER had ANY guests? Those must have been some incredibly depressing birthdays and Christmases.

Jae Hyuk finally introduces himself, and we get this great shot from the girl’s perspective. HELLO. WE’RE TOTALLY NOT SERIAL KILLERS.

Asahi and Jae Hyuk huddle on the couch, as far away from the girl as they can get. (I’m guessing Jihoon has tied bedsheets together and is rappelling off the second floor patio so he can flee into the mountains.) The girl can’t help laughing and asks why they’re sitting so far away. I don’t think they respond.

See, this is why Asahi and Jae Hyuk should have been able to go on those group dates. They both got voice recorders saying they needed to open up more with women and talk to them, and then all the women WENT AWAY and LEFT THEM ALONE, and they’ve completely regressed back to Day One. This is officially one of the poorest decisions I’ve ever seen on these reality shows, and I have seen a LOT.

Jae Hyuk finally offers her something to eat. Seeing an opportunity to interact, she asks them if they cook. Jae Hyuk points to the kitchen and says, “He’s good at it. He’ll cook for you.” We cut to Jihoon shuffling into the kitchen, looking resigned, like the camera crew just dragged him out of the mountains, threw an apron on him, and shoved him back into the house.

Jae Hyuk actually calls to him, “Jihoon! Kimchi fried rice!” And I’m pretty sure Jihoon is the LEADER OF THE GROUP. (checking notes) YES. YES HE IS.

Jihoon springs into action and starts cooking. He asks the girl if she’s had anything to eat today, and she stammers that she has not and then asks, “Do you know my name?"

“We haven’t even asked your name yet!” exclaims Jihoon, who I’m pretty sure WON THREE JEWELS YESTERDAY FOR BEING CHARMING. (checking notes) YES. YES HE DID.

The girl introduces herself as Jo Hyun Seo. She’s 23 years old and studies fashion and textiles at Seoul National University. She asks how old they are and learns that while Asahi and Jae Hyuk are her age, Jihoon is one year older. She asks Jihoon what honorific she should use with him, and he says, “They call me Hyung.” This is a term normally used by males to address older males, but I don’t think women use that title when addressing men. (I’m guessing that would be like English-speaking women calling guys “bro.”) Hyun Seo laughs and says, “Am I supposed to call you Hyung?” He says yes. She looks confused for a second, but then appears to decide to just roll with it before they all run away again.

Hyun Seo sits with Jihoon in the kitchen for a while to watch him cook, and presumably to get away from the other two, who are staring at her like she’s a zoo animal trying to break through the fence. After chatting with Jihoon, she decides to try again with Asahi and Jae Hyuk.

She sits on the floor, probably to seem less threatening, the way one does with small children. Asahi turns all the way around and stares out the window behind him. I just … I seriously can’t with him. He finally does turn back around to face her but still stares at the floor.

Jae Hyuk jumps up to help Jihoon in the kitchen, leaving his petrified bandmate to fend for himself. We then cut to Jae Hyuk running into another room to be alone. He says he needs a break.

This is beyond normal shyness. This is something these guys may need medication for. Asahi is now muttering that he doesn’t know where Jae Hyuk is, so to keep him from melting down, Hyun Seo suggests they go look for him. Asahi starts running through the house, calling for Jae Hyuk, while Hyun Seo tries to keep up. In the midst of all this insanity, the doorbell rings again. No. Oh no. No no no. This is a bad idea. The guys are freaking out over one woman in the house. We can’t have another one right now. Not until we can get these guys sedated. I’m not even joking. I am genuinely worried right now.

Asahi hears the doorbell from the upstairs hallway and freezes in fear. “Let’s go see who it is!” says Hyun Seo, the way you would to a toddler when Grandma comes for a visit.

Back in the kitchen, Jihoon does something amazing. He actually turns on the security panel and … I can’t believe I’m typing this … ASKS THE WOMAN AT THE DOOR FOR HER NAME.

Ladies and gentlemen, we are three episodes in, and one of the grown men in this house has finally, unprompted, asked a woman for her name.

Ju Hee, who officially has the honor of being the first woman whose name we learn before she enters the house, now enters the house. She is another woman with fabulous hair and fashion sense. Hyun Seo greets her because Asahi has given her the slip. The two women go to the kitchen, where Jihoon invites them both to sit and have lunch. He is suddenly a gracious host.

We learn that Ju Hee is 24 years old and a student at Yonsei University. Jihoon asks about her major. We don’t get her answer because the camera suddenly cuts to the second floor. Asahi has found Jae Hyuk, and they are aimlessly wandering the halls. I’m guessing the producers threaten off-camera to throw them off the balcony if they didn’t get their terrified K-pop butts into the kitchen NOW, because suddenly they’re in the kitchen. The girls sit down to eat while Asahi nervously paces the room.

Per Koran social rules, Jihoon tells Ju Hee his birth year (2000), which makes him 24 years old, but then he says he’s 23 in international age. I had to look that up, and now I’m thinking I would also be an emotional mess trying to talk to people in Korea. So many rules. So much math.

Both women are impressed with Jihoon’s manners and hospitality. Asahi and Jae Hyuk are now obsessed with the dishes. Jihoon goes over to them and asks in a low voice why they’re doing dishes now, while the women are still eating. “I have to do something,” Jae Hyuk whispers back, “don’t talk to me.”

Ju Hee turns around to face the kitchen and says hello to the two dishwashers. She has to say it several times before getting two surprised hellos back, like they just realized she was there. She asks how old they are. They exchange looks of alarm and then tell her. Okay, we’re making progress.

I just checked, and Wonho is being discharged from the military on September 4th, just a few days from now. We need to send a helicopter to pick him up at the barracks at the crack of dawn on that day and get him over to this house ASAP. I know there’s probably some kind of discharge ceremony he’s been looking forward to, but this is way more important.

Asahi and Jae Hyuk race through the dishes and disappear, and the girls can’t help laughing. They’re not making fun of the guys. They’re just reacting in disbelief. Suddenly, Jae Hyuk reappears, and … wow. He sits at the table to join them.

He’s actually smiling and talking with them. What happened during those few seconds out of the room? Did he chug a Red Bull? Did Wonho actually show up and give him a pep talk? Whatever the reason, he’s now carrying on a conversation with them. We get Ju Hee in a confessional, and she’s as stunned as we are.

Asahi reappears and starts lurking around the kitchen again before finally joining everyone at the table. We learn that Ju Hee is studying nursing. That’s surprising – she’s so beautiful, I just assumed she was a model. This is the guys’ first time meeting a peer from a completely different field, and I think this is brilliant of the showrunners. Now they have a lot to talk about.

Ju Hee has nursing vlogs? I looked her up, and yes, she has a YouTube channel about nursing and health, and the videos have English subtitles. I immediately subscribed. (You can find her here on YouTube.)

So the guys are asking questions, like does she have to give injections, and does she handle IVs when people have the flu. Then they start asking Hyun Seo about clothes and fashion. (By “they,” I mean Jihoon, who’s doing most of the talking, but the fact that Asahi and Jae Hyuk are sitting with them and paying attention instead of trying to tunnel their way out under the floorboards is a HUGE improvement.)

In the middle of this discussion, the bowling alley date group returns to the house – Haruto, Mi Ho, and So Won.

I’m actually the one confused, because when they walk into the living room, our three guys are just sitting there alone, doing a puzzle on the coffee table. Then we hear Hyun Seo and Ju Hee giggling and find that they’re hiding in the kitchen. They come out to greet everyone. Haruto appears quite taken with the new arrivals.

Haruto tells us right away that Hyun Seo, the fashion and textiles major, has a very intelligent look. He’s quite good at checking her out without looking like he’s checking her out. He also tells us he thinks Ju Hee is a dancer.

Now the folk village date group returns – Junkyu, Ye Won, and Ji Yeon, who are quite surprised to find a house full of people and conversation. I’m quite surprised that they’re still wearing hanbok.

I really like this scene of everyone relaxed and happy and introducing themselves. Junkyu tells us he’s delighted to meet more people. He’s curious to see what kind of synergy the group will form. I’m already seeing a dramatic change in both Junkyu and Haruto after their group date experiences. I’m hoping Asahi and Jae Hyuk will get to have the same experiences, getting them out of the house so they can’t hide so easily.

As the group settles into the living room, the classical music starts up again. Stairway mailbox time! The boys run out of the room, while the others get Ju Hee and Hyun Seo up to speed.

The two new girls get to open the envelope and read the mission.

Now we’ll start the food delivery taste battle.  Men, please order delivery food you’ll eat with the women now.  The men will order delivery food, and the women decide only by the menu!  They’ll have a dinner date with the person who ordered the food they like the most.

The guys gather in one of the bedrooms to place their food orders so the women can’t hear. They place the following orders:

Jihoon: tteokbokki This is a simmered rice cake that is VERY popular in Korea I think I’ve seen people eating it on every one of these shows I’ve covered.

Jae Hyuk: takoyaki A Japanese snack made with diced octopus and vegetables.

Junkyu: malatang This is like a Chinese street food version of ramen.

Haruto: fried chicken This is one of the most popular foods on Earth. Haruto is no dummy.

Asahi: pasta Again, smart move. If I were one of the girls, I would choose either the pasta or the fried chicken. Asahi knows what he’s doing when he orders it. He is definitely getting a date out of this.

While this is going on, the women gather on the second floor patio to compare notes on the guys. Mi Ho talks about how she got to know Haruto better on the bowling date. So Won agrees, saying he was funny and attentive. She doesn’t mention how he challenged her about the voice recorder. Also, when Mi Ho and So Won came into the house earlier, they were barefoot, and Haruto brought them both slippers. I have a hunch Haruto’s getting a jewel at the next voting session.

Dinnertime! The food delivery arrives. As the guys unpack the food, we learn that Asahi ordered eggs benedict along with the pasta. This man has gained some confidence and is determined to get a date. We learn that if none of the women choose a food item, that man dines alone. Well, that’s harsh.

The guys spread out over the house, choosing separate spots to set up their meals. Inside the house, Haruto is in the living room, and Asahi is at the kitchen table. Outside, the other three guys have set up tables around the courtyard. They really will be isolated and eating alone if no one chooses their food. This show is meaner than the Tower on Wild Idol. Although Jihoon does not appear worried. “Finding a girl in Korea who dislikes tteokbokki is really hard,” he says.

Haruto is making the same bet with the fried chicken. Honestly, I wouldn’t choose one item. I’d go from table to table, sampling all of it. I’d get kicked off the show.

The women come downstairs, one by one. They already know the menu item they want and just have to find the right table. We’re told that dinner could be a group dining experience for some of the guys and a solo dining experience for others. Again, this show is SO MEAN.

Hyun Seo, our fashion and textiles student, is the first to come downstairs. And what happens next is BRUTAL. She stops at Asahi’s table and asks what he’s serving. He tells her pasta, and she pretty much says, “oh, that’s nice,” and moves on to Haruto. He shows her the fried chicken, but that’s also not what she’s looking for. She heads outside to check the other tables. I’m cringing. Every cell in my body is cringing. I may have permanently lost several inches in height from cringing.

She keeps checking the tables until she finds Junkyu and the malatang.

Now Ji Yeon comes downstairs. She heads right to the pasta and Asahi.

The viewer comments pop up quickly now, debating whether or not Asahi actually wanted to be alone. I’m pretty sure he wanted a date, because he chose pasta, a popular dish. If he’d really wanted to be alone, he would have served cottage cheese and olives.

But then we cut to Asahi in a confessional, and he’s honestly amazed that someone chose pasta. At the dinner table, he seems flustered that Ji Yeon is sitting there, and he doesn’t know what to do. I swear, I can’t get a read on Asahi at all.

Now Asahi feels badly for Haruto, who’s still sitting alone, so instead of sitting at the table with Ji Yeon, he sits between his table and Haruto’s, leaving Ji Yeon at the table by herself. You know what? Just scrap the whole show. End it right here at Episode 3 and just air reruns of HIT Village for the rest of the series run. We’re done here. Pack up the set. Everyone grab your final paychecks on the way out. Someone cancel Wonho’s helicopter. Get home safe.

A third woman comes downstairs, and she races past Haruto and Asahi so fast, we can’t even see who it is. My money’s on So Won. After he caught her in a lie on their date, I doubt she wants another meal with him. But nope, it was our nursing vlogger Ju Hee. She is off in search of something that isn’t pasta or chicken. If I were Haruto, I’d really start taking this personally. At least ONE of the girls has to like fried chicken. But Ju Hee chooses Jihoon and his tteokbokki in the courtyard.

Haruto invites Jae Hyuk to come in and eat with him. But at that very moment, Mi Ho and So Won come downstairs together. So Won chooses takoyaki with Jae Hyuk, and Mi Ho chooses malatang, which means that Junkyu now has two dates for dinner.

Jae Hyuk is grateful to So Won, thanking her for sitting with him and saying he would have skipped dinner if no one had chosen him. Now I’m so sad. He’s not happy because she chose to eat with him. He happy SOMEONE did. I don’t blame him. This is so painful.

Haruto is now curled up alone on the couch in the living room, and I hate this so much. Ye Won comes downstairs, goes outside, and chooses takoyaki with Jae Hyuk and So Won. That’s all the girls. Two of the guys have two dates, and Haruto is alone. This show can go pound sand.

Haruto must be hungry, because he starts eating the chicken by himself. If I were him, I’d just find a book and an empty room and enjoy my dinner in solitude, away from the cameras.

Outside, Jae Hyuk is shy and awkward with both of his dates. He tells the girls he hates silence, but he doesn’t know what to say. He’s really trying. “Earlier, the new guests initiated a lot of conversation when they arrived,” he tells them, “but I got shy. I feel so bad that I want to apologize to them now.”

Haruto has no dates, and he’s sad. Jae Hyuk has two dates, and he’s sad. This show can’t do a mission right to save its life.

Then Ye Won asks Jae Hyuk if he got a jewel yesterday, because sure, go ahead and remind him about the voice recorder on top of everything else. WHEN WILL THIS EPISODE END?

Wait a minute. (checking notes) YE WON IS THE GIRL WHO LEFT JAE HYUK THE VOICE RECORDER. She knew that when she asked him the question. What the hell, Ye Won?

But Jae Hyuk must not have recognized the voice, because he thinks Ji Yeon left the recorder. The show gives us a flashback, confirming it was Ye Won, but now, she’s willing to let Ji Yeon take the fall. She asks if his feelings were hurt, and he says yes. She looks sad and says she hopes he feels better, and he says, “I’m okay,” in a way that means that he’s not okay.  Please just end this episode now so I can go to bed and stare at the ceiling and be depressed.

Suddenly, Jae Hyuk tells So Won he knows she was the one who left a voice recorder for Haruto, because all the guys compared notes. Wait, they all compared notes, and he still thinks Ji Yeon left him the voice recorder? Ji Yeon left one of Asahi’s two recordings. Was Asahi so depressed, he didn’t try to figure out who his critics were? And wait – JI YEON IS INSIDE EATING PASTA WITH ASAHI RIGHT NOW.

Jae Hyuk says he knows Ye Won gave a recorder to Asahi, but she didn’t, and she says she didn’t. “I don’t think you know our voices yet,” she says. Jae Hyuk does the math and realizes his recorder was from Ye Won. Both are embarrassed.   I can’t imagine how this evening could get any worse, but we have nine minutes left, so I’m sure this episode will find a way.

Now we cut to Jae Hyuk in a confessional, and HE’S ON THE VERGE OF TEARS. Congratulations, Shining SOLO. Somehow you got worse. I am in begrudging and horrified admiration.

Back to this dinner date from hell. Ye Won and Jae Hyuk make peace, and I’m sure So Won is stress-eating again because I sure am.

Now we cut away to Asahi and Ji Yeon, who are eating pasta without talking, because that kind of atmosphere is just great for digestion. They look like a couple out for their anniversary dinner who just decided to get divorced. She’s probably mentally rehearsing her next voice recorder message for him.

Finally, Asahi murmurs, “Do you have any hobbies?” She says, “I really like watching movies alone,” and he says, “Me, too.” That sparks a conversation. They both like late-night movies. Asahi likes watching movies alone in his room.

Suddenly, Haruto’s voice booms from the living room coffee table. “WOW, this chicken is DELICIOUS!” he says in the loudest passive-aggressive voice I have ever heard, and I kind of love it. Honestly, when the camera cuts to him eating while shouting, the only thing that would have made it more perfect is if he were taking swigs from a bottle of bourbon and watching depressing French cinema on his phone.

Concerned, Asahi turns around to check on his friend. He calls Haruto’s name. Haruto takes a huge bite of chicken before turning around and yelling “WHAT?” and I am 100% here for this.

Both Asahi and Ji Yeon look worried, and I just want Haruto to yell, “Oh don’t mind me, just enjoy your PASTA,” and then I want him to pick up one of those Mr. Treasure jewels and sling it right through the living room window before going back to taking more enormous, life-threatening bites of chicken while shards of glass fly everywhere. It needs to be snowing outside while this happens. Gusts of wind need to be blowing snow through the broken window and all over the $2.1 million USD house while everyone screams and runs around and Haruto keeps eating chicken.

It doesn’t happen that way, which is a shame, but it’s still a defiant ending on Haruto’s part. Asahi and Ji Yeon invite him to eat with them, but he just dismissively waves his fork at them and keeps chewing.

Asahi and Ji Yeon go back to talking about movies. These two are seriously clicking, and I know I’m supposed to see this as a heartwarming end to the episode, but I don’t want to because Haruto is rage-eating chicken TEN FEET AWAY FROM THEM and I cannot WAIT to hear the messages on all four voice recorders that are going to be crammed into his locker tonight.

We cut to Jihoon and Ju Hee outside in the courtyard, also connecting on their date, talking about the life of a K-pop idol, while Haruto’s villain origin story is unfolding in the living room. It’s a weird way for the show to try to end the episode on a happy note, and despite the showrunners’ best efforts, all the viewer comments can focus on is Haruto.

I’ll just end it here with these questions for next time.

Should Haruto actually turn into a villain for the rest of the series?

Would he be a Joker type villain or more Phantom of the Opera?

Seriously, why did no one choose fried chicken? Do these women hate joy?

Remember, all it takes is one bad day to reduce the sanest man to lunacy.  See you next episode.

[aion-rsa]

Doctor Who: Perfect 10? How Fandom Forgets the Dark Side of David Tennant’s Doctor

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As recently as September 2020 David Tennant topped a Radio Times poll of favourite Doctors. He beat Tom Baker in a 2006 Doctor Who Magazine poll, and was voted the best TV character of the 21st Century by the readers of Digital Spy. He was the Doctor during one of Doctor Who‘s critical and commercial peaks, bringing in consistently high ratings and a Christmas day audience of 13.31 million for ‘Voyage of the Damned’, and 12.27 million for his final episode, ‘The End of Time – Part Two’. He is the only other Doctor who challenges Tom Baker in terms of associated iconography, even being part of the Christmas idents on BBC One as his final episodes were broadcast. Put simply, the Tenth Doctor is ‘My Doctor’ for a huge swathe of people and David Tennant in a brown coat will be the image they think of when Doctor Who is mentioned.

In articles to accompany these fan polls, Tennant’s Doctor is described as ‘amiable’ in contrast to his predecessor Christopher Eccleston’s dark take on the character. Ten is ‘down-to-earth’, ‘romantic’, ‘sweeter’, ‘more light-hearted’ and the Doctor you’d most want to invite you on board the TARDIS. That’s interesting in some respects, because the Tenth Doctor is very much a Jekyll and Hyde character. He’s handsome, he’s charismatic, and travelling with him can be addictively fun, but he is also casually cruel, harshly dismissive, and lacking in self-awareness. His ego wants feeding, and once fed, can have destructive results.

That tension in the character isn’t due to bad writing or acting. Quite the contrary. Most Doctors have an element of unpleasantness to their behaviour. Ever since the First Doctor kidnapped Ian and Barbara, the character has been moving away from the entitled snob we met him as, but can never escape it completely.

Six and Twelve were both written to be especially abrasive, then soften as time went on (with Colin Baker having to do this through Big Finish audio plays rather than on telly). A significant difference between Twelve and Ten, though, is that Twelve questions himself more. Ten, to the very end, seems to believe his own hype.

The Tenth Doctor’s duality is apparent from his first full appearance in 2005’s ‘The Christmas Invasion’. Having quoted The Lion King and fearlessly ambled through the Sycorax ship in a dressing gown, he seems the picture of bonhomie, that lighter and amiable character shining through. Then he kills their leader. True, it was in self-defence, but it was lethal force that may not have been necessary. Then he immediately topples the British Prime Minister for a not dissimilar act of aggression. Immediately we see the Tenth Doctor’s potential for violence and moral grey areas. He’s still the same man who considered braining someone with a rock in ‘An Unearthly Child’. 

Teamed with Rose Tyler, a companion of similar status to Tennant’s Doctor, they blazed their way through time and space with a level of confidence that bordered on entitlement, and a love that manifested itself negatively on the people surrounding them. The most obvious example in Series 2 is ‘Tooth and Claw’, where Russell T. Davies has them react to horror and carnage in the manner of excited tourists who’ve just seen a celebrity. This aloof detachment results in Queen Victoria establishing the Torchwood institute that will eventually split them apart. We see their blinkers on again in ‘Rise of the Cybermen’, when they take Mickey for granted. Rose and the Doctor skip along the dividing line between romance and hubris.

Then, in a Christmassy romp where the Doctor is grieving the loss of Rose, he commits genocide and Donna Noble sucker punches him with ‘I think you need somebody to stop you’. Well-meaning as this statement is, the Doctor treats it as a reason to reduce his next companion to a function rather than a person. Martha Jones is there to stop the Doctor, as far as he’s concerned. She’s a rebound companion. Martha is in love with him, and though he respects her, she’s also something of a prop.

This is the series in which the Doctor becomes human in order to escape the Family of Blood (adapted from a book in which he becomes human in order to understand his companion’s grief, not realising anyone is after him), and is culpable for all the death that follows in his wake. Martha puts up with a position as a servant and with regular racist abuse on her travels with this man, before finally realising at the end of the series that she needs to get out of the relationship. For a rebound companion, Martha withstands a hell of a lot, mostly caused by the Doctor’s failings. 

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Series 4 develops the Doctor further, putting the Tenth’s Doctor’s flaws in the foreground more clearly. Donna is now travelling with him, and simply calls him out on his behaviour more than Rose or Martha did. Nonetheless the Doctor ploughs on, and in ‘Midnight’ we see him reduced to desperate and ugly pleas about how clever he is when he’s put in a situation he can’t talk himself out of.

Rose has also become more Doctor-like while trapped in another reality, and brutally tells Donna that she’s going to have to die in order to return to the original timeline (just as the Doctor tells Donna she’s going to have to lose her memories of travelling with him in order to live her previous life, even as she clearly asks him not to – and how long did the Doctor know he would have to do this for? It’s not like he’s surprised when Donna starts glitching). Tied into this is the Doctor’s belief in his own legend. In ‘The Doctor’s Daughter’ he holds a gun to Cobb’s head, then withdraws it and asks that they start a society based on the morals of his actions. You know, like a well-adjusted person does.

What’s interesting here is that despite presenting himself as ‘a man who never would’, the Doctor is a man who absolutely would. We’ve seen him do it. Even the Tenth Doctor, so keen to live up to the absolute moral ideals he espouses, killed the Sycorax leader and the Krillitanes, drove the Cybermen to die of despair, brought the Family of Blood to a quiet village and then disposed of them personally. But Tennant doesn’t play this as a useful lie, he plays it as something the Doctor absolutely believes in that moment, that he is a man who would not kill even as his daughter lies dead. It’s why his picking up a gun in ‘The End of Time’ has such impact. And it makes some sense that the Tenth Doctor would reject violence following a predecessor who regenerated after refusing to commit another double-genocide.

In the series finale ‘Journey’s End‘, Davros accuses the Doctor of turning his friends into weapons. This is because the Doctor’s friends have used weapons against the Daleks who – and I can’t stress this enough – are about to kill everyone in the entire universe. Fighting back against them seems pretty rational. Also – and again I can’t stress this enough – the Daleks are bad. Like, really bad. You won’t believe just how mindbogglingly bad they are. The Doctor has tried to destroy them several times by this point. Here, there isn’t the complication of double-genocide, and instead the very real threat of absolutely everyone in the universe dying. This accusation, that the Doctor turns people into weapons, should absolutely not land.

And yet, with the Tenth Doctor, it does. This is a huge distinction between him and the First Doctor, who had to persuade pacifists to fight for him in ‘The Daleks’.

In ‘The Sontaran Strategem’ Martha compares the Doctor to fire. It’s so blunt it almost seems not worth saying, but it’s the perfect analogy (especially for a show where fire is a huge part of the very first story). Yes, fire shines in dark places, yes it can be a beacon, but despite it being very much fire’s entire deal, people can forget that it burns. And fire has that mythical connection of being stolen from the gods and brought to humanity. The Time Lord Victorious concept fits the Tenth Doctor so well. Of all the Doctors, he’s the most ready to believe in himself as a semi-mythic figure.

Even when regenerating there’s a balance between hero and legend: the Tenth Doctor does ultimately save Wilfred Mott, but only after pointing out passionately how big a sacrifice he’s making. And then he goes to get his reward by meeting all his friends, only to glare at them from a distance. His last words are ‘I don’t want to go’, which works well as clearly being a poignant moment for the actor as well, but in the context of Doctor Who as a whole it renders Ten anomalous: no one else went this unwillingly. And yet, in interviews Russell T. Davies said it was important to end the story with ‘the Doctor as people have loved him: funny, the bright spark, the hero, the enthusiast’.

It’s fascinating then, that this is the Doctor who has been taken to heart by so many viewers because there’s such an extreme contrast between his good-natured front, his stated beliefs, and his actions. He clearly loves Rose and Donna, but leaves them with a compromised version of happiness. They go on extraordinary journeys only to end up somewhere that leaves them less than who they want to be, with Russell T. Davies being more brutally honest than Steven Moffat, who nearly always goes the romance route. Davies once said to Mark Lawson that he liked writing happy endings ‘because in the real world they don’t exist’, but his endings tend towards the bittersweet: Mickey and Martha end up together but this feels like they’re leftovers from the Doctor and Rose’s relationship. The Tenth Doctor doesn’t, as Nine does, go with a smile, but holding back tears.

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It’s a testament to how well written the Tenth Doctor is that the character has this light and shade, and with David Tennant’s immense likeability he can appeal to a wider audience as a result. It’s not surprise he wins all these polls, but I can’t help but feel that if the Doctor arrived and invited me on board the TARDIS, I’d want it to be anyone but Ten.

The post Doctor Who: Perfect 10? How Fandom Forgets the Dark Side of David Tennant’s Doctor appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[365days365movies]

February 19, 2021: The Phantom of the Opera (2004) (Part 1)

I love musicals.

Hands down, when talking cinematic adaptations of musicals, my favorite is Little Shop of Horrors. I’ve seen it MANY times, and will see it many, MANY more. And I’m not the only one. I mean, obviously, but in this case, I’m referring to my girlfriend. She’s chosen to represent herself with a GIF from her favorite musical, Hairspray. So, here she is:

Ravishing. Now, because it’s currently our anniversary, I let her pick today’s movie from my list. And so, she chose a musical that neither she nor I have seen: 2004′s The Phantom of the Opera. And some of you may now be saying, “What, this guy said he liked movie musicals, and he hasn’t seen TPotS? That’s like saying you haven’t seen Grease, or Singin’’ in the Rain, or, PFFT, West Side Story!”

...About that...

Yeah, yeah, I know! It’s insane, and I’m a hypocrite. I’ll be getting to the rest of those eventually, and one of them’ll be coming in the next couple of days, I promise. You can probably guess which one. Anyway, fact of the matter is that we’re gonna watch it tonight, and I’m looking forward to it. 

However, there’s another factor to this, and that’s the fact that this film...doesn’t have the best reputation amongst fans of the original musical. And, yeah, this should ideally be the Michael Crawford version, but the Butler version is the one I have access to, so we’re going for it. SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap (1/2)

Paris, 1919, back when the whole city was in black-and-white for a year. They lost the budget for color after World War I. Anyway, at an old opera house, an auction is taking place, and items found within the theater are for sale. One of these is a music box with a monkey on it, an item which sponsors a bidding war between an older woman, and an older man in a wheelchair. I’m sure we’ll find out who they are eventually.

Anyway, a broken chandelier is also up for option, and was involved in the mysterious disaster of the “Phantom of the Opera” fiasco. They turn it on with electric light, and as they raise it to the ceiling, the organist goes fuckin’ NUTS. The song’s so loud that it REVERSES TIME, and we’re now in color, in the year 1870 at the same opera house.

The theatre, managed by the soon-to-retire Monsieur Lefèvre (James Fleet), has just been purchased by Richard Firmin (Ciaran Hinds) and Gilles André (Simon Callow), who are there to observe. On stage, a rehearsal for the opera Hannibal is taking place, and the costume’s are already...like, a LOT, not gonna lie. The headliner for the show is soprano (and drama queen supreme) Carlotta Giudicelli (Minnie Driver), and is being funded by patron Raoul, Vicomte de Chagny (Patrick Wilson). 

The background dancers are instructed by Madame Giry (Miranda Richardson), and include her daughter, Meg (Jennifer Ellison), and her adopted daughter, Christine Daaé (Emmy Rossum). As the rehearsal takes place, an accident happens on stage, almost injuring Carlotta. Enraged, she leaves, and refuses to perform.

Meanwhile, Madame Giry finds a letter from the Phantom, who demands his normal monthly salary of 20,000 francs, as for Box 5 to be left open. While the new owners think that this is ridiculous, they also note that it’s pointless without a lead singer for their show. 

However, Christine is volunteered, and shows that she is indeed a talented singer. The show goes on, and Christine is a smash, much to Carlotta’s dismay. At this point, Raoul also discovers that this is his long lost childhood friend (and possibly long lost love) Christine, which she also noticed earlier.

But this is because of a mysterious teacher, who sings to her from the walls of the theatre. Meg comes in to congratulate her (through song), and asks who her tutor is. Meg responds...in song (”Angel of Music”).

Afterwards, Madame Giry also congratulates her, and tells her that the Phantom is pleased with her. Right after, Raoul also pays her a visit, and the two reconnect on shared memories of times in an attic in the summer. She tells Raoul that she is visited by an Angel of Music, and cannot go to the dinner that night with him. And the Phantom agrees, as he locks Christine in her room. YIKES. 

And as literally every person in the theatre except Christine leaves, the Phantom serenades her, angered by Raoul’s presence, and Christine’s potential dalliance with him (”Mirror”). And through the mirror, he takes her to a mysterious crypt beneath the theatre. And as they sing their strange duet in the form of the title song (”The Phantom of the Opera”)...I try to resist talking about Gerard Butler until later. And it’s hard. It’s SO hard, guys.

But, OK, he takes her away on a...sewer horse...how the FUCK did he get that horse down there? And wait, WAIT, does he put her on that horse to walk her, like, 20 feet to the gondola? Like...WHY DO YOU HAVE THE HORSE? That is...monumentally wasteful. Where do you keep the horse? Does he feed the horse? How much? How often? With what? Does the horse eat the sewer rats? Is there naturally growing sewer hay? Does the Phantom’s salary go towards buying food for the horse, or buying new horses when the original ones DIE OF STARVATION - WHAT THE FUCK IS WITH THIS HORSE?!?!? WHOMSTVE THE FUCK

And yes, I love this fuckin’ song (not the singers, but we’ll get there), but this is distracting me alongside the statues of naked men in the sewer, because...well, Joel Schumacher. What can I say, it’s kind of his aesthetic. Anyway, we get officially introduced to the Phantom of the Opera (Gerard Butler), a very handsome-looking man who likes wearing a half-mask.

I say handsome, because the Phantom in this movie, looks...fine. HE LOOKS OK. HE LOOKS LIKE A DUDE WEARING A MASK. What, did somebody throw a hot candle at his face once, and he freaked out over it and ran into the sewers forever...WITH A HORSE? NOT OVER THE HORSE SHIT.

Look, the Phantom is supposed to be HIDEOUSLY scarred. Famously, in one of the film adaptations of Phantom, actor Lon Chaney Jr. purposely distorted his own face using adhesive face in order to play the role of the hideously disfigured character. Now, other versions have just given him severe, and I mean SEVERE burn scars. But behind the mask, Butler looks...fine. HE LOOKS FINE GODDAMMIT. He looks like he’s wearing the mask because it looks edgy and shit.

But OK, what’s happening in the movie? Oh, right, more serenading (”Music of the Night”), with another song that I like quite a bit. This and the previous song were songs Id heard before, and that I’d already had on my playlist. They’re great, what can I say? Now is Butler doing it justice? Ehhhhhhh, we’ll talk about that in the Review.

During this song he kinda seduces her, or attempts to, and also shows her a wedding dress. She sees herself in it and IMMEDIATELY faints, Jesus!  Curtain falls on Christine while she’s in a bed, and we go back to her room, where Meg is looking for her. She finds the mirror, and is about to go back there, but her mother finds and stops her.

Meanwhile, stagehand Joseph Buquet (Kevin McNally) tells the chorus girls of the legend of the Phantom, and describes a physical description that doesn’t match him...even a little. We cut back to Christine, who wakes up in what my girlfriend refers to as a “bomb-ass HQ.” Which is fair, let’s be honest. Anyway, she heads over and tries to unmask her new masked lover (?).

He’s not the biggest fan of this, and he emos all over the screen (”Stranger Than You Dreamt It”). And then, as he puts his mask on, we suddenly (and I mean suddenly) jump to 1919, where the old woman, Madame Giry, bids farewell to...wait, that’s Raoul? HOW DOES HE LOOK SO MUCH OLDER THAN HER, WHAT???

Back in the past, inexplicably, the theatre owners and manager sing about the theatre and the Phantom’s demands ("Notes..."), and are soon joined by Raoul, who brings them a separate note, saying not to look for Christina any further. THEN, Carlotta joins them, delivering a letter of her own from the Phantom, warning her not to return to the theatre.

In his letters, he details how his theatre is to be run, threatening a disaster if Christine is not cast in the lead role, and if Carlotta is not cast in a silent role. However, the theatre owners and Carlotta refuse to obey, and Carlotta is cast in the role, as the owners try to appease her (”Prima Donna”).

That night, during a performance of Il Muto, Carlotta’s singing the lead role. Additionally, Box Five is full, and the Phantom is PISSED. So, like a Phantom do, it’s time for some good old fashioned petty revenge! He switches her throat spray, causing her to lose her voice on stage, and causing the audience to laugh when the show ends abruptly. They quickly and publicly recast the role, giving it to Christine instead. Well, mission accomplished by the Phantom! Guess we’re good without retribution. And then he hangs the stagehand.

Well...fuck, man. Realizing that the Phantom is EXTREMELY dangerous, Christine goes to save Raoul, who she...is in a relationship with now? Wait...wait, hold up, the fuck did I miss? I mean, yeah, he probably is gonna kill Raoul, but there is, like, NO lead-up to their connection before this point.

Anyway, as Christine explains that there is a Phantom when Raoul says he doesn’t exist...wait, WHAT? MOTHER FUCKER BUQUET JUST NOT MURDERED IN FRONT OF EVERYBODY WHAT IN THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN????? YOU LITERALLY HEARD THE...you know what? Break. BREAK. This is...this one’s tough.

See you in Part 2!

[jimlingss]

The Colour of Our Voices [10]

Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 10.5 OR Chapter 11

➜ Words: 4.8k

➜ Genres: 98% Fluff, 2% Angst, Slice of Life, Broadway!AU

➜ Summary: He wasn’t supposed to hear. He wasn't supposed to know. But the instant Jimin came into your life and pulled the curtains back, you couldn't hide backstage anymore. You were no longer merely a phantom of the opera.

➜ Warning: Spoilers to the musical Les Mis.

cr.

You show up in sweats.   If you could, you’d take a swig of the rosette right about now. But you’ve long run out and decided not to buy more after the other day’s embarrassing stunt at Jimin’s doorstep.   You still cringe when you think about it.   So instead, you eat chocolate. You gnaw on the king sized bar like it’s Halloween and you’re indulging in the post-trick-or-treat spirit.    Your hair is also unwashed, a spectacular three day record now. It’s itchy at some parts and when you scratch, white fluff comes dusting from your scalp. You haven’t showered in general for a while. There’s no point, really. Not when you don’t have any arrangements, responsibilities, no job to go to.   The unemployed life isn’t actually a bad one — as long as you don’t think about the inevitable doom of your bank account and having to go into debt to pay off bills.   Your life sort of feels like that picture of that dog that’s sipping on coffee while thinking ‘this is fine’ and the room is on fire. But what can you do?   “Is she…”   “...yeah…”   “....it’s true then?”   There are whispers that you’re not unaccustomed to, stares behind your back that you can feel and sense in your peripheral vision. “...the ghost singer…”   You turn around to look and the girls immediately seal their lips, looking away. They pretend to be discussing other things, but still, you hear it all around you.   “So is she really the Phantom? How is that possible?”   “Don’t ask me.”   “Do you think she can really sing?”   “Probably not. She’s only here because it would bring in publicity. We all know that.”   Your efforts are fruitless. They’re right. You’re not going to get a role. You’re only here to satisfy people’s curiosity.    “L/N Y/N?” The girl reads off her list. “Is there a L/N Y/N here?”   Fuck it.   What do you have to lose? You’ve lost it all anyways.   “Here!”   You raise your hand, voice loud and clear. The murmuring of the girls cease once they confirm that it is you. But you pay them any mind, finishing the chocolate bar in the awkward silence. You chew your mouthful and smear your stained hand on your grey sweatpants, leaving a streak of brown on your thigh.   You toss the wrapper in the garbage.   “Uh...right this way,” the girl says as she gestures past the curtain.   Many auditions take place in closed off rooms, but it’s an open stage this time. A modest size with the pianist tucked in the corner. There are five people sitting before the front row, a panel of them — some producers, directors, writers — you don’t know and you don’t care much for their titles either.   It feels like you’re on some TV show, ready for their judgment.    Your nose runs with snot and you wipe it away with the back of your hand. “Hi.”   “You’re L/N Y/N?” There’s a shuffle of papers, people peering up at you past their glasses.   “Yes.” You swallow the last bit of chocolate in your mouth, clearing your throat. You hope your teeth aren’t stained. Well….if they are, it wouldn’t be the biggest deal.   “You worked at the Phantom of the Opera production?”   You should probably head to the supermarket after this and get some ice-cream. You’d definitely feel better with it, curled on your couch with a warm blanket and some television to drown out the silence of your apartment.   “Y/N?”   The call of your name has you focusing again. “Pardon?”   The woman is dressed cleanly in a blazer with her hair pulled back into a bun like yours. But hers is undoubtedly neater, probably holding a bunch of pins, maybe even hair-sprayed. Yours was bunched up carelessly with a stretched elastic you found on the floor of your closet.   “You worked at the Phantom production?” she repeats.   You give her a bland answer, but one that’s unfortunately the entire truth. “As an intern.”   One of them pipes up, “Can you tell us any details about your previous work at the Phantom production?”   “I did coffee runs.”   “Umm….” The younger female in the middle gestures with her hand. “Did you do anything else?”   “I swept the floor. I did a lot of paperwork and printed things out for the director there,” you list out and shrug. “I don’t know. Things like that.”   They exchange looks with one another, probably not expecting such a boring response. “Did you...contribute to the performance in any way?”   Your eyes dim. Of course — this is what they wanted to know all along. It’s the reason you’re here in the first place. But they shouldn’t have beaten around the bush. If they asked over the phone, you would’ve told them. They didn’t need to waste their time like this.   But unfortunately, the honest truth isn’t as glamorous as they think it is. “The actor couldn’t sing, so I did. Behind the curtain.”   “And how did that come about?” someone asks with a frown, and you can see the girls peeking out from the curtain to your left, listening in.   “They needed someone,” you deadpan. “I volunteered.”   “Well...alright then.” He clears his throat and the others shift uncomfortably in their seats. You wonder what it is that they wanted to hear from you, what kind of gossip they were anticipating. “What are you singing for us today?”   “Do you have a preference?”   “Uh…” They look at one another and some shake their heads. “No, not really.”   You approach the pianist with a sigh. You didn’t prepare, but after countless auditions, you know all the basic audition pieces inside out. Every lyric is embedded into your mind. Pathetically enough. But they’re all the same — they gave you the same outcome of failure.    “Do you have any sheet music?”   The pianist blinks at you and timidly points to the top of the upright piano. “You can look in the binder.”   You flip it open and grab for the first paper-clipped set, passing it to him. “Here.” Then you step up to the middle of the stage again, cueing the pianist with a lifeless hand and the notes start, light and optimistic much to your displeasure.    Usually, you’d begin to feel your palms become clammy. But instead, your fingertips are sticky from melted chocolate. “There’s been a change in me.” Your voice draws from your chest hastily without much care. “A kind of moving on.”   Typically, your heart would be pumping fast to the point where you could feel it all the way in your throat. Your mouth would go dry. A cold sweat would wash down your body. But you don’t feel any of these things.    “Though what I used to be, I still depend upon.”   Your knees don’t quake. You don’t need to hide any tremors in your hands.    It’s not a real audition after all. This is a joke.   And if anything, you feel pissed. No matter where you go, you’re strung along by people for their own entertainment.   “For now I realize. That good can come from bad.”   It’s supposed to be a touching song sung by Belle in Beauty and the Beast. It’s supposed to be gentle. Hopeful. But every word is filled with your aggression. It’s hostile and indignant. You’re exhausted at being humiliated and you wail out the lyrics in grief. It tears from your throat.    If they wanted to hear you sing, they were going to hear alright.   “That may not make me wise. But fuck,” you ad lib, “it makes me glad.”   “And I—” you belt the note in a kind of bitterness reserved for a resentful villain, and a kind of sadness bleeds into it. It’s not at all like a kind protagonist that’s meant to be a delicate princess. Your voice even warbles against your will, cracks at the top, but you don’t care. You embrace it. “I never thought I’d leave behind my childhood dreams. But I don’t mind.”   You look off to the top of the stairs in the small auditorium. You’re reminded of how you once sang on a stage like this, how a brunette boy appeared from thin air and began clapping for you.   “For now I love the world I see.” You shut your eyes to savour the memory. “No change of heart, a change in me.”   You stop. The piano slows and ends. It goes completely silent.   One of the men open their mouth and then closes it. “Um….”   You spare them from having to sugar coat it and tell you how awful you are. “Thanks for the opportunity.”   You step off the stage, grab your bag, and brush past the crowd of males and females preparing to audition. They all stare at you — but for reasons you’re wrong about. Though you don’t dwell long enough to find that their expressions aren’t of detest. You hop down the stairs and take the emergency exit out.   //   You don’t know where to begin with your belongings.   For one, you’re going to need cardboard boxes bigger than those containing your instant noodles. If you’re going to go home, you need to pack up your furniture somehow. But in the meantime, you haul out your dusty luggage from the back of your closet. You kick the busted wheel to roll it a few meters before hurling it on your bed with a sigh.   You’re not sure what clothes to leave behind and which to take with you.   The mattress dips underneath your added weight and you look over to the hanging dresses that you never go to wear, blazers and pencil skirts that are unwrinkled and were only pulled out for the occasional audition….   You stand on your feet after a prolonged moment, not yet feeling the urge to dump all the hangers onto your bed and fold up the clothes into neat squares. Instead, you put it off by heading to the kitchen for more ice-cream.   But as you grab for a spoon, you pass by that counter. The one with the abandoned ticket pushed to the side. It catches your eye and you’re suspended in your spot, feet rooted to the ground. You almost forgot — it’s tonight.   You hold the ticket up to the light. It’s a dark blue with a streak of red, a young girl on it facing the horizon. Les Misérables, a front mezzanine middle row seat.   It wouldn’t hurt to do one more thing before you begin packing to go home…   Right?   //   You’re startled when the bell at the top of the door jingles to signal your entrance.   “Welcome to the Bloom Room!” A female in a green apron turns around with a bouquet of flowers and shears in the other hand. All around her are fancy floral arrangements, from wreaths to overflowing vases. The fresh scent overwhelms your senses, vibrant hues that render you even more uncertain. “How may I help you?”   “Umm..”   She smiles softly at you. “What kind of flowers are you looking for? Anything specific at all?”   You glance at the surroundings, still unsure. Maybe you should get something that’ll convey how sorry you are, for showing up drunk at his doorstep, for saying all those mean things to him. Something that’ll make amends, to tell him you really miss him, his presence, friendship.   You should get something that’ll communicate how thankful you are for him — for always being there even when you pushed him away, for always supporting you, for being your backbone when you needed it.   “Just….something nice, please,” you end up telling her with a modest smile.   “Certainly.” She leads the way, through the shelves and cases of flowers and bouquets. The florist glances at you, sincere in her gaze. “What’s the special occasion?”   “Oh no, there’s not a special occasion.” You shake your head and your hands, and the volume of your voice quiets as you try to explain. “Well, not really. I’m just bringing it with me to a show tonight. Someone I know is performing for the first time on stage.”   “How exciting! What’s your relationship with this person?” She stops at a station that has jars filled with single flowers, an array of brown paper and ribbons on the side. “Friends? Family member? Boyfriend or girlfriend?”   “Umm…..” You don’t know why it’s taking you so long to think about it. “Friends…?”   And you certainly don’t know why there’s a hint of doubt in your voice either.   The florist’s pupils flicker up to you, a hint of a knowing smile gracing her features. “How about peonies? They’re very delicate and I think it’ll be perfect to bring with you to a show. Seven of them and some baby’s breath and lilacs.”   “That sounds nice.” You nod and she begins to choose them. But you wonder if it’s strange to bring flowers to him. You clear your throat. “Is it…” The woman turns to look at you. “Is it weird to give flowers to a guy?”   “Not at all,” she assures you. “Trust me, everyone loves to get flowers.”   “Do you…..think I should deliver it or give it to him?” You’re unsure of what protocol is. You’ve never bought flowers for anyone before.   “Oh, you should give it to him,” she tells you without a trace of doubt. “That’s just me, but I think it’s much more personal to hand-deliver.”   You nod and there’s a moment of quiet before you remember something. It flickers into your mind, a memory hitting you in the face. And your eyes light up.   “C-Can I get them in purple?”   //   The show starts at seven thirty, so you arrive twenty minutes beforehand.    Your ticket gets scanned and you shuffle into the auditorium. There are lots of people, a sea of glamour, couples going on dates to musical fanatics eager to watch their favourite theater performance to critics ready to analyze the show. You tug on your little black number that ends at your knees — it’s modest and simple, but one of the many dresses that you never got to wear. But there's not a lot of time to be self-conscious or to second guess yourself. The people are a tide that rushes in, and you’re overwhelmed, pushed forward by their force and unable to escape.   The theater is grand, brightly lit with the red curtains pulled down. You find your seat and hug the small bouquet of flowers in your lap.   When the show finally begins, the lights dim down completely and it’s glorious. Music begins to play, thundering through the auditorium, and men march onto the stage holding sledgehammers. “Look down, look down. Don't look 'em in the eye.”   Your eyes search for Jimin, but he’s not here.   If you remember the details of his role correctly, you have a feeling he won’t show up for a while. So you sit back and try to relax and watch. But the anticipation and excitement of seeing him keeps you on alert. Any time there are characters entering the stage, your eyes always scan across.   It’s not until an hour later that you finally see the familiar boy at the very corner of the scene, catching the edges of the spotlight. Immediately, a smile tugs into your cheeks.    Jimin’s singing with the others, wearing a long brown coat with disoriented hair. He plays the part of a young man from a rich family well. You can practically see the fire in his eyes.   “Look down and show some mercy if you can! Look down, look down, upon your fellow man!”    The song is similar to an anthem, riling up the crowd for a revolution. “It'll come, it'll come, it'll come... It'll come, it'll come, it'll come…”   Jimin doesn’t have a main role, but he’s still on the stage of Broadway, singing with many others. You’re happy to see him, elated that you know the boy that’s actually performing, and you have to hold back from giving a sudden standing ovation.    “Before the barricades arise?”   The crowd breaks up as the police enter the stage and just like that he disappears again. But ten minutes later, it’s his time to shine again. Jimin’s one of the nine men — the main character, Marius, and the supporting character, Enjolras, taking the limelight, but he’s one of the many students sitting around a table, at a supposed bar.   “Red!” one of them sings.   The male playing Marius faces the audience. “I feel my soul on fire!”    “Black!”   “My world if she's not there!” the main actor responds with vigor.   “Red!” Jimin belts with others.    “The colour of desire!”   “Black!” he sings again, and you can pick up his voice between the timbre of others.    “The colour of despair!”   Jimin sings with the actors and it echoes throughout the theater. While he never sings a line by himself, you can still hear his tone ever so slightly before it melts away. “The dark of ages past! Red — a world about to dawn! Black — the night that ends at last!”   His appearance is sweet albeit short. You see him one more time right before the intermission when the cast comes onto the stage and sings for the hope of the future in ‘One Day More’.    Afterwards, it’s a fifteen minute break. It’s an hour and a half through the show, but the intermission allows people to relieve themselves at the restrooms or grab a drink at the bar. In your case, you stick around, grasping the bouquet. The brown paper crinkles under your grip and you peer at the curtain as if hoping he’ll run out.   Instead, you catch Jimin coming out from the left door as the other people are spilling out of the auditorium.   But it’s bad timing.   He doesn’t come to where you are, but towards the orchestra section, right by one of the closest rows to the stage. An older woman and man stand, clapping and jumping. He runs into the woman’s arms and squeezes him.   It’s his parents, and you smile before turning around to walk away, not wanting to interrupt the intimate moment with your presence. His parents must be proud.   You’re happy for him.   //   The show continues afterwards. Jimin makes a few more cameos here and there without singing any lyrics, simply in the crowd at the barricades. Although, he does say a few lines.   “See! The people unite!” — “So what are we going to do with this snake in the grass?” — “You wear an army uniform.” And when Éponine dies, he comforts Marius. “She will not die in vain…”   But Jimin does sing one line by himself in the song ‘Drink With Me’. His eyes sweep across the audience floor as he steps forward, pretending to take a swig of the empty beer bottle. “Here’s to pretty girls who went to our heads!”    And you swear he looks right at you.   As if he had memorized where you would be seated.   But Jimin looks away right after, his eyes passing your spot. You release your held breath, realizing it was your imagination. There was no way he could actually see you.   The show lasts another forty minutes, filled with the spectacular performances of the leads, their beautiful voices that captivate your attention and everyone else’s. During the finale when the storyline has wrapped up, everyone comes onto the stage again. You see him one last time there.   Jimin is singing, smiling wide, looking out at the audience.    It could not be a better Broadway debut.   You muse that he truly belongs on the stage — there’s no place else he should be. Along with the rest of the audience, you give a standing ovation. The applause roars throughout the auditorium, actors and actresses bowing and waving goodbye.    When it dies down, the bright lights come on again. People begin trickling out and you’d leave as well, if not for the bouquet of flowers you’re still holding onto.   You look around. “U...Um excuse me…”   You stop someone who looks like a worker and they blink at you, confused. You swallow hard and hand over the flowers. “C-Can you give this to Park Jimin? He was an actor in the production.”   “Sorry.” The teenager awkwardly points to a family that’s gathering their belongings to show he’s with them and he offers a kind smile. “I don’t work here.”   “O-Oh. Sorry.” You bow your head and they say it’s no problem. But you’re still cringing from embarrassment, and now you don’t know what to do, how to give it to him without having to face him. You should’ve thought about this better.   But before you can contemplate any solution, you hear a sudden—   “Y/N?!”   Jimin’s sweaty. Like he sprinted here as fast as he could the second the curtains fell. His parents are nowhere in sight, probably in the lobby, but he's here with you. Still in costume. The nineteenth century french clothing — blue trench coat, puffy white shirt underneath, brown slacks.   His hair is riled up with what looks like soot pressed to his cheeks, makeup of some sort that makes him appear even more disoriented and soiled. But he doesn’t care. You don’t either.   His chest rises and falls as he tries to catch his breath. The two of you stare at each other, pupils locked into one another’s, holding the other’s attention. Captivated. Then after a beat, the biggest and goofiest grin spreads into his face. It’s enormous, causing his eyes to crinkle into half-moons.    “You came! You...actually came!”   “Y-Yeah…” You’re stunned and you tear your eyes away, the intensity becoming too much for you to handle. Your arm extends. “These are for you.”   “Flowers?!” He breathlessly giggles and takes them. Jimin doesn’t fail to notice that they’re all shades of purple, from lilac to violet. Because of you, purple has become his new favourite colour. “I love them. Thank you!”   “C-Congratulations on your debut, Jimin.”   He grins, so much that his rosy cheeks look like they’re about to burst. His teeth peek out, eyes crescent moons. “Thank you. I’m glad you could make it.”   “S-Same here…..” You don’t know why he’s gazing at you so intently at you. It makes it hard to keep eye contact. “You were really amazing.”   “I didn’t have that many lines,” the boy giggles, still giddy and hyperactive. It makes you smile.   “But you were still good.” There’s a lot of things you’ve been wanting to tell him, a million versions of an apology that you’ve practiced in the mirror. And now that he’s here and you’re no longer staring at a reflection of yourself, you gather your courage to face your regrets. “You deserve it, Jimin. I’m...sorry for everything that I said. I’m sorry for being resentful towards you. I’m sorry for being jealous. It wasn’t your fault. And all those things I said to you, I didn’t mean it. A-at the time I did, but now I don’t...I don’t know if that makes it any better but...yeah….I just…..you were great, you worked hard, so…”   It’s the shittiest apology. Worse than the first one you practiced. But you can’t get it out right.    You feel nervous for the first time in Jimin’s presence. A kind of anxiousness that doesn’t make you feel sick. Rather, you feel something else in your stomach — it’s fluttery. Something uncertain brewing there, stirring at its pits.   It feels similar in your chest. It isn’t a foreign sensation, but one you had ignored for a long time now.    Jimin suddenly laughs, noisy and hearty. It squeaks, a higher pitched giggle. It makes you look at him, eyes hesitantly lifting off the floor. And then you yelp.   Jimin picks you up right off the ground, arms locked around your waist. He spins you in a circle, squeezing ticklish laughter out of you. Your hands immediately come to grab his shoulders. The boy is unable to contain the adrenaline pumping through his veins and the overwhelming joy of you being here.   “Jimin!” you squeal.   He laughs. “God, I’m so happy that you’re here!”   “Did you think I’d miss it?” you quip and it feels like forever since you’ve been able to joke around like this. “Not for the world, Park!”   He sets you down to your feet again. His swelling smile might just break his face. He nuzzles into you, hair tickling your forehead. Jimin hugs you tight. He’s so happy, you can practically feel it radiate off of his skin. And your chest blooms with pride instead of envy. “Your Broadway debut was amazing. It only gets better from—”   “Can I please kiss you?”   Your heart stutters.   Jimin pulls himself apart from you. The sudden question has you blinking twice. But the temptation for Jimin has gotten too much. If there’s one thing that could make tonight even more perfect, it would be him kissing you…   You glance at his plush lips before your pupils flicker back to his eyes.   “You don’t need to ask.”   Just like that, he roughly tugs you in by the small of your back. The flowers lose a few petals from the harsh motion. But Jimin doesn’t care. He kisses you like he’s been waiting to do it for months now. He kisses you like he wants you. He’s hungry for it and savours your whimper that’s muffled between his soft lips. He’s been wanting to hear your voice like this.   Jimin’s half-lidded eyes soak up your pleasured expression before he gives in, shutting them to succumb to your scent. He breathes you in and you become helpless in his arms, the pad of your fingers pressing against the nape of his neck. You’re unsure if you want to part just to gasp for air, or if you want to push him even closer.   But your thoughts turn to mush as his hot tongue licks inside your mouth, eager. The pair of you don’t care that other people might be watching, that you’re placed in the middle of the auditorium, that you’ve stolen the spotlight.   When the both of you break apart, you stumble back from each other, mouths swollen. You wipe away his saliva that’s made your lips shiny with the back of your hand. The both of you are dazed and embarrassed, catching your breaths, his own cheeks reddened.    You divert your eyes from one another. But then infectious giggles spill over.    God, you might’ve been in love with Park Jimin for a long time now.

Director Lee sits at his desk with a sigh.   He shuffles his papers before sitting back in his swivel chair, unsure. Right at that moment, a blonde, lean man enters with a hot brewing cup of coffee. The assistant sets it on his desk.   “Are you sure you should be taking in caffeine this late at night?”   “Not like I’ll be able to sleep anyway.” He brings the cup up for a small sip. “I’m still deciding on the main cast.”   “Who do you have?”   “The casting director narrowed it down to these people.” He lays out the applicants of possible options and sighs. “Now I just have to decide who’s going to be part of this and who’s who. You should’ve been there today, Kim. If you weren’t late, you might be able to help me right now.”   “Sorry.” Taehyung sheepishly grins. “My alarm clock didn’t ring.”   The director is disgruntled, but still playful. “Same excuse every time, Kim.”   Taehyung laughs, but still tries his best to assist. He scans over the applications haphazardly, but then his breath hitches. He turns his body to get a better look and his eyes grow wide, recognizing you. “Oh. What about her?”   The director follows to where his assistant is pointing and hums a low note. “Oh. Her. We called her since we heard she was the ghost singer of Phantom.”   “Oh yeah.” The blonde nods. “I heard about that.”   “I was thinking about tossing her papers.”   “Why?” Taehyung looks at his mentor, genuinely curious.   “Well, her audition was….” He struggles to find the right words. “Impactful. It was really something. She stood out, that’s for sure.”   “Then….?”   “I just don’t know if we could find the right place for her.” He shrugs and taps his finger against the armrest of his chair. “She might outperform the other actors and actresses.”   Taehyung makes a noncommittal sound at the back of his throat. “I don’t know. But I think she should be considered for a role. That’s just me, but I have a good feeling about her. You said it was impactful, right? Isn’t that what we should be going for?”   Director Lee glances at his assistant, but Taehyung simply smiles and waltzes out the room.

[brianprobablywill]

Just Like This (Joe Mazzello x Reader)

summary: joe helps you out when you need his help for extra credit, but you have no idea how your night will end.

joe x reader, 1.8k words, fluff

warnings: none

author’s note: this is for @royally-rogers​‘ s follower challenge!! jacqueline is lovely, you should definitely check her out and give her a follow!!! she’s been super kind in offering me an extension to submit my piece, and here it finally is!! thanks, jacqueline, for letting me take part in your challenge, and for being an awesome frined <3 enjoy!

“No, no, Y/N, you have to feel it.”

“Fine.” You cross your arms across your chest for the hundredth time that evening, trying to feel it. “It’s almost midnight, where were you?”

Joe looks like he’s about had it. He throws his script onto the sofa, bringing his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Do you actually care about where I’ve been?”

“Huh?”

“It’s almost midnight.” Joe juts his chin out, looking at you incredulously. “You have to care about where I’ve been, damn it!”

You’re about to snap too, tell him that acting is not your thing, but the sound of a door opening stops you. 

“Whoa, hey.” Ben steps out of his room, glasses perched delicately on his nose. “I’m trying to study.”

“And so are we.” Joe retorts. 

Hardly. You’re only filling in for one play that your college was organising. You really didn’t want to, but participation is a big deal and you’re not going to slack in any area, no sir. This is just something you have to do.

“Keep it down,” your roommate hisses. “These definite integrals are hell.”

Joe scoffs. “Okay, electrical engineering.”

Ben doesn’t leave before flipping Joe the bird, but once the moment to his bedroom door is shut, Joe turns his attention back to you. “Okay.” He turns his eyes to the ceiling, presumably to work out a plan for what to do about your predicament. 

You’re busy picking at the aglet of your converse when Joe exclaims, “Yes!” You watch as he makes his way towards where you were sat on the couch.

Crouching in front of you, he begins, “We’re friends, aren’t we?” His hands come to lay flat on your thighs, sending a wave of electricity through your body.

You nod, letting his eyes make direct contact with yours. 

“Close your eyes for a minute.”

You do.

“And imagine we’re a couple.”

“Oh, no.” Your eyes are open within an instant, looking at Joe, alarmed.

“Hey!” he holds up his hands in defence. “I didn’t think the idea disgusted you that much.” He looks down at his feet, scoffing lightly. 

“No!” you’re quick to respond, twisting your hands together in your lap.

Joe nods, waiting for you to back your answer with some more substance. When you don’t, he asks, “And?”

“Huh?”

“No, what?” He shakes his head. “No, you’re really sweet; no, it’s not like that… no?”

“It’s not like that.” your response is weak. 

Truth is, the idea of dating Joe isn’t disgusting to you at all. Not one bit. It’s almost a little tempting, letting him know how you really feel.

But you’ve been burnt in the past, you’ve been hurt. Your previous attempts at confessing to crushes have gone sideways many times, and you’re not sure if you’re ready to put yourself out on the fire like that. Yet again. 

Joe exhales shakily, using the support of his hands on his thighs to stand up. He holds out a hand to you, prompting you to get up with him. “Is it okay if we pretend to be a couple?”

You nod firmly, not letting a single bit of hesitation seep through. But when Joe takes one step towards you, his hot breath fanning your face now, you wonder if you should have simply said no.

Joe’s lips land on yours in one smooth motion. They’re soft. Joe’s grip on your hand gets just a little more firm. But before you can respond to his kiss, he’s pulled away already, grabbing the script from your other hand and handing you his.

“Let’s switch roles,” he says quickly, turning to sit down on the couch. “You come home at midnight, and I’ll show you how a doting boyfriend would respond.”

“Isn’t acting interpretative? Maybe my interpretation about a loving relationship is different from yours.” There isn’t any real meaning behind your accusation, and you make your way towards the door to ‘come home at midnight’ anyway.

Despite having practiced the scene several times, you still have to look at your-- Joe’s script to find out what you have to do. Joe’s character - Sam - doesn’t really have many lines. It’s just a few grunts and mumbles while your character - Anna - does all the talking. 

“It’s midnight, where the hell were you?” 

Whoa. He’s taking his liberties with expanding on the dialogues, you realise. The conviction is strong with his dialogue. It really feels like you’re his girlfriend. Like he’s really worried about you after you’ve come home late. And it makes your stomach do a little flip, because, damn, is this what it would feel like to have Joe as a boyfriend? 

“Just out,” you try your hardest to match your acting skills with Joe’s, but that’s a losing battle. Half the time you’re really only focusing on Joe, watching how he takes the dialogue and makes a scene out of it.

“Out?” Joe stands up, his eyes flitting over his script briefly before looking back up at you, and you can swear you can see a flash of rage in his eyes. “I called your work.” He put his hand on his hip. “They said you left hours ago.”

Joe’s fingers were slender, the tips pressing into the fabric of his shirt. You’d very much like to smoothen out the wrinkles in his shirt.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Dialogue,” he sings, his shoulder sagging. 

Your script falls to the floor as you bring your hands to your forehead. “Oh my god.”

“Hey, hey, hey.” Joe is quick to rush to your side, putting a gentle hand on your lower back. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t do this,” you whisper, looking at Joe through the corner of your eye. 

“Oh,” he mumbles, not sure what to do for just a second. “Um, sit down?” He slowly guides you to the couch, sitting a considerable distance away from you. 

You know what comes next in the script. Sam apologises to Anna after realising how worried she was, and they kiss. They kiss. And if you’re going to be acting it out with Joe, you’re not sure you can handle it.

Even then, you’re trying to keep it under control. He can’t see why you’re so upset about such a simple thing. So when Joe looks at you questioningly, you only shake your head vigorously, reaching for the water bottle you’d placed on the coffee table.

“Look,” Joe begins, his voice gentle, “I get that you’re not an actor. And I get that this is a difficult task for you.” He goes on once you nod. “Are you sure you can’t pull out of the gig?”

“I’m sure,” you state, even though you’re not. You really want this extra credit, and you were going to get it. 

“Okay. Maybe we can try practicing another day. You’re tired. Aren’t you?” Joe hooks two fingers under your chin to get you to look at him. You can see the concern in his eyes, you can see that he cares about you and wants you to be okay. “You should get some sleep.”

“What if I do horribly?” Your question is meek. You almost already know the answer, but you still have to ask.

“You won’t.” Joe’s hand moves from your chin to your shoulder, squeezing once. “You have me, remember?” He smiles, wide and goofy, and for a minute you forget about the impending doom that’s going to come during your dress rehearsal. “I’ll get you whipped up for the role in no time!” He snaps his fingers.

You can’t help but giggle softly. 

“Sleepytime?” He asks, putting his hand on your back to guide you to stand up. 

But you don’t. You nod, and shuffle closer to Joe, putting your head on his shoulder. “Can you, um, can you call Lucy and tell her you’re staying over?”

“What?”

“I want you to stay.” You look up at him through your eyelashes, heart beating fast lest he says no. “Please?”

“Of course. Of course, sweetheart,” Joe whispers. His next words are a shout, “Yo, Ben!”

“A heads-up would’ve been nice,” you snap, rolling your eyes.

Joe grimaces, shouting again. “Benjamin!” 

Ben’s bedroom door opens immediately, with your roommate storming out, one airpod in his hand, the other in his ear. “What?” he hisses.

“Call Lucy and tell her I’m sleeping over.”

Ben cocks his head to the side. “I didn’t ask you to sleep over.” That’s when his eyes fully take in the visual in front of him. “Oh. Oh.” He smirks, “Okay. I’ll tell her you’re sleeping with Y/N tonight.”

Ben looks like he’s about to say something else, but a hot look from both you and Joe shuts him right up. He holds up his hands in defence, muttering, “I’ll let Lucy know,” before heading back into his room.

As soon as he’s gone, you turn to look at Joe, still leaning on him. “You’re sleeping with me tonight.” You wiggle your eyebrows and give him your best goofy eyes, and it looks like it works, because Joe’s face breaks into a smile and he shakes his head fondly.

“Can’t wait,” he whispers back with equal goofiness.

No more words are exchanged as Joe holds your hand to lead you to your room, waiting for you to change, and then tucks you into bed. As he slides into bed next to you - now changed into one of Ben’s shirts and a pair of sweatpants - you simply have to peep at him, watching as he lays down slowly, putting his hands on his chest. 

His chest rises and falls slowly, and you can see, even in the dark, he blinks. 

The logical part of your brain has no time to stop your heart before you’re reaching up to run a hand through his hair. 

Joe lets out a sharp breath, turning his body towards you and offering better access to his hair. “You’re not asleep?”

You say nothing. Joe can feel the tips of your fingers on his scalp, and it sends a wave of relaxation through him. Hesitantly, he asks, “Do you want to get closer?”

You wordlessly shuffle closer to him, your free hand reaching around his body. You can still play with his hair. And now, Joe can play with yours. You can tell why he likes it - it is very relaxing.

“I like sleeping with you,” you whisper, “just like this.”

Joe giggles softly, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “Me too. Just like this.”

You’re not sure which one of you falls asleep first. Just that it’s a very relaxing night for you. And that when you wake up, Joe is there to give you another kiss, this time on the lips. And that you kiss him back, mocking, “Just like this?”

“Yeah, like this too.” Joe sasses, still wrapped up in the high of kissing you.

You’re sure you don’t mind. You could spend night after night wrapped up in Joe’s arms, waking up to sleepy kisses. 

Just like this.

------------

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[lovelyirony]

“But I remember you the way that we rehearsed” for winter13, please?

Fake dating. Bucky didn’t like that it had come to this. He glared at his agent, Natasha, who pays him no attention. 

“And this is necessary exactly why?” 

“Because you scare people,” Natasha says. “And it proves on some level that you have a heart somewhere in there.” 

Bucky snorts. “Let them think I don’t have one. It’s how I get all my roles, right?” 

He had had previous experience in the military. With squared shoulders, a deadset gaze, and good-enough looks to be noticed by a talent scout? He’d been shipped off to Hollywood and gotten typecast as a handsome military man in every single movie. He didn’t mind it. As long as it paid the bills, he’d do it. 

Natasha didn’t like this. Apparently he had to be a “real person” and “interact with people.” 

He did not like that. Why interact with people? He talked with Steve. He made fun of Sam. This was enough! 

“At some point, people grow bored of the whole ‘I’m tough and distant, watch me gaze stoically’“ Natasha tells him. “And I know it goes quickly. With a dating life, it proves there’s more to you.” 

“There’s really, really not.” 

“Then it will boost Carter’s career,” Natasha says. “You don’t want to kick a fellow star down, do you?” 

“I don’t particularly care.” 

Sharon is dragging her heels in the dirt. 

“Maria, what the hell? What’s all this about me dating Barnes?” 

“It’ll be good for his image.” 

"What, to prove he can date someone?” 

“On the nose,” Maria says. “He needs someone that shows a...softer side of him.” 

“Does he have a softer side?” 

“You can make one.” 

“And if I don’t?” 

"Then you have a lower chance of breaking out.” 

“Still a chance.” 

“Do it and I’ll make sure that you get a wine cellar,” Maria says. 

“...fine.” 

- 

They both look at each other carefully. 

“I’m Bucky.” 

“Sharon. Good to meet you.” 

She sticks out a hand for a shake. It’s firm, to the point, and they’re both thinking this might not be the worst. 

“So, how do you want to spin this?” Natasha asks Maria. 

“They meet at a red carpet event,” Maria says. “Bucky asks after her, she gives him her number. They meet up for coffee. Become a thing. Short and sweet, exactly how it should be.” 

They nod. 

Sharon stares. 

“So we don’t get input?” 

“What would your idea have been?” Natasha asks. 

“I meet her at the shooting range,” Bucky mutters. 

“That’s literally the worst idea I’ve ever heard,” Maria says flatly. “Nope. Red carpet. We’ll coordinate outfits a bit, leave the public saying ‘aw’ that it was ‘destined in the stars’ or whatever bullshit they’re going to put in the magazine. Any questions, concerns?” 

“Can I pick the coffee shop?” Sharon asks. 

“Yes.” 

- 

The red carpet event. One of Sam’s newest spy flicks, and Bucky can’t lie and say he isn’t excited. Sam makes a good spy with smooth looks, an easy smile, and a way with a suit and acting like he’s acting for espionage. 

It also helps that he can make fun of him while they’re at the theater. 

Sharon looks nice in a simple blue dress. He’s wearing a blue tie. 

Coordinating. By chance. He almost laughs at the absurdity of it all. 

She saunters over to him. 

“Bucky Barnes, right?” she asks. 

“You, uh, got it,” Bucky says. 

“I’m Sharon. I liked your last movie. You pulled an impressive move with the motorcycle. Was that a stunt double?” 

“Nah, although I did have a nice guy for the building leap,” Bucky answers. “You were in the last murder movie, right?” 

“The detective, yeah,” Sharon says. “How’d you meet Sam?” 

Conversation goes smoothly. Sharon fills in where Bucky breaks off. She doesn’t say anything about his short, blunt answers that so many others flounder over. She doesn’t even pause for any pity when he mentions the prosthetic. 

“Is it a Stark model or something else?” 

“Um. Stark.” 

“Good choice,” Sharon says. “I was reading about the success rates.” 

“What, because you knew I have one?” Bucky asks. 

“No, my cousin’s Tony,” Sharon says. She puts on a teasing smile. “Not everything is about you, Mr. Barnes.” 

“I wouldn’t presume, Ms. Carter,” he answers, a smile playing at his lips. “Mind if I escort you to your seat?” 

Take notice. Pictures. He knows it’ll be on one of those late night “News” stations. (News. What a fucking joke.) 

- 

He gets her number at the end of the night. She slips him a notecard. 

“Special occasion and all,” Sharon says. “I’ll send you the address for the coffee shop once you text back.” 

- 

That night he stays awake a bit longer. He tells himself it’s just because of the fancy, late event. 

It is not because he thinks Sharon may just be one of the most interesting people he’s ever met, and not just because she’s his type. 

Besides, coffee is nice. He can drink it and not answer anything while he’s sipping on it. 

- 

He’s early. By half an hour. She is five minutes late, orders some fancy concoction, and sits down. She looks very nice, put-together. Bucky can already see everyone staring and taking pictures. 

“So, how was your night?” Bucky asks. 

"Not anything happening besides sleep after the premiere, you?” she asks, stirring the foam around. 

“Not really. Ate a hot pocket.” 

He cringes. 

He really made the choice to say that, didn’t he? Ugh. 

To his surprise, Sharon laughs to herself. 

“Glad I’m not the only one who still eats garbage food. The amount of people who say they eat a smoothie bowl...” 

They launch into conversation about stupid foods that celebrities eat, and how much they both would kill for a grease-stained-paper burger that honestly tastes like your aorta is gonna fail. That’s how unhealthy it is. 

Sharon finds out that he likes rock climbing, and she offers to host the next outing at the club she goes to. 

They get photographed exiting. She admires the beat-up car that he refuses to get rid of. 

“Still runs, don’t see why I would get rid of it,” Bucky mutters. 

“Can I just say, for one, that I don’t know why anyone in Hollywood would deny having a car that’s fifteen years old and has a ‘My Son is an Eagle Scout!’ sticker on the back,” she says. “Oh my god, did you get this from your mom!” 

Bucky laughs. 

- 

Dating is easy. 

Feelings are hard. 

Because Sharon can go on dates. They go on walks and answers questions and grin for pictures, and that’s all good. She can do that. 

What she can’t do is at least attempt to stop trying to feel the way his fingers press into her waist, the way she smiles at him. She knows how she’s smiling at him. 

She needs to stop sitting with him at an old diner at sunset, cheeks red with laughter and long-faded sun, and they bicker over who has the best shake. 

She needs to stop taking his jackets and shirts and wearing them out and feeling a sense of pride that other people know that she knows him more than anyone else. The way that he only smiles at her. 

They’ll have to talk to the Oscars board to get him nominated for Best Actor. Hell, maybe she can even convince them to have him win. He’s convincing like that. 

- 

Bucky hates that he has feelings as well as memories. Had lobotomies not been highly risky and (mostly) illegal, he probably would have signed up for one right about now. 

Dating is...nice. He likes Sharon. He hopes that she likes him, at least. Tolerates maybe. 

Natasha says their break-up is scheduled for a month from now. Mutual parting, careers in the way. Whatever excuse is cooked up, he’s sure it’ll make sense. Sharon probably has a life to get back to, and Bucky...he’s sure he’ll think of something to say in the interview when they invariably ask him about it. 

- 

It’s Sharon who comes to his house at ten-thirty at night in old cut-offs, a t-shirt that’s paint-splattered from when she helped him paint his kitchen table chairs one boring afternoon, and her eyes are rimmed with red. 

“Feel free to tell me I’m stupid, but I don’t wanna break up,” Sharon says. “We have a good time, I think you’re probably the only actor in this whole scene that I’d ever date, and you’re the best guy I’ve ever met.” 

Bucky blinks. 

“Are you...me? The best guy you’ve ever met?” 

Sharon giggles a bit. 

“Yeah, you.” 

“Sharon as long as you’ll have me, I’m yours,” Bucky confesses. “Can’t promise I’m the most interesting guy alive.” 

“Says the guy who drives a beat-up town car with stickers on the back,” Sharon says with a snort. She pulls him into a hug. “But yes. I want you, Bucky. I really, really do.” 

- 

They inform Natasha and Maria, who already saw this coming from the moment they met. 

“Another match in the books,” Maria says, pouring a glass of wine for herself. “Who’s next on your list?” 

Natasha thinks, sliding her sunglasses down. “Well, I think Sif and Jane would do quite nicely together, don’t you think?” 

“It’s gonna need more planning than Bucky and Sharon,” Maria says. “You sure you’re up for that?” 

Natasha grins. 

“When have I not been, dear?” 

[therainroguefanfiction]

💙 Heart Beats (Choutarou Ootori) #17: Slippery When Wet✶

📑 Table of Contents | ◂Previous

-ˋˏ ༻❅༺ ˎˊ-

“Ahh, well… you see…” Choutarou blushed, rubbing the back of his head. What was he supposed to say? Surely he couldn’t just come out with the truth.

“We were told of a murder that happened here,” you responded bluntly. Apparently, you could…

“Senpai!”

“What?” You glanced at your boyfriend, but before he could respond, the woman started laughing, making a tic mark appear beneath your eye. “The hell’s so funny?”

“I… haha… I’m s-sorry… hahaha!” The woman took deep breaths, clutching the glass tight so she didn’t drop it. When she finally stopped laughing, she motioned towards the kitchen. “Come have a seat and I’ll explain.”

You started forward but Choutarou grabbed your wrist. “Are you sure about this, senpai? What if she’s dangerous?”

“Relax, Chou-chan. It’ll be fine,” you slipped your hand into his, gently tugging him toward the kitchen.

“Have a seat. Would you like something to drink?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder at you as she reached into the cabinet to put the glass away.

“No. Thanks.”

She shrugged, walking towards another door, which looked like it led to a hallway. “Sean! Get in here!”

“What?” A male voice yelled back before the source appeared in the doorway, shirtless, with a towel over his dripping dark brown locks. His expression turned surprised when he saw the two of you sitting at the kitchen table, one looking annoyed and the other worried. “What’s going on, Sarah?”

“Sit, sit,” Sarah ushered him over, earning a scowl from the male. She took a seat next to him before speaking. “Now, you claim to have seen a murder here earlier, correct?”

“We didn’t see it. A couple idiots did,” you answered, vaguely aware of the disapproving look from Choutarou.

“Ahh, I see I see. So that’s what this is about,” the male chuckled, resting his cheek on his hand. “First, we should introduce ourselves. I’m Sean Warner,”

“And I’m Sarah Veil. We’re actresses – “

“Actors,”

” – from America. Both of our families are close to the Atobe family and the two of us grew up together. We were rehearsing a scene from our new movie. Mrs. Atobe let us use one of their cabins so we’d have privacy,”

“The scene we were practicing earlier was a death scene, where the husband and wife end up murdering each other because mphdfhj – “

Sarah firmly planted her hands over his mouth. “Sean! We can get into a lot of trouble for giving away that much information about the movie!”

“Soffmpry!”

She shook her head with a sigh, removing her hands and re-taking her seat. “Anyway, that’s the story.”

“We must be pretty good to have fooled your friends like that,” Sean said smugly, leaning back in his chair with his arms folded across his chest.

“I don’t know how we missed them, though.” Sarah sighed. “Poor dears. They must be running crazy!”

“If I may, what’s the name of your movie?” Choutarou questioned.

“Slippery When Wet. A murder mystery!” Sean announced proudly. “Due out in the fall of this year~”

You and Choutarou exchanged a look.

-ˋˏ ༻❅༺ ˎˊ-

The sun was starting to peek over the horizon and the boys of Hyotei had received no sleep. How could they possibly even think of sleeping when two of their own were missing? They had gone out on a mission to check out the scene of a murder that Gakuto and Shishido had stumbled upon, but they had yet to return. They had been gone for hours!

“I knew this was a bad idea! I just know something bad happened!” Shishido ranted, pacing around in the same circle he had been creating for several hours now.

“It was your idea to send them,” Yuushi pointed out from his seat on the recliner, one leg crossed over the other.

“No. It was my idea to send Y/N, not Choutarou!” he snapped in return, turning to glare at the tensai.

“So it’s okay for Y/N-chan to be in harm’s way, but not Ootori-kun?” Jirou questioned, cocking his head to the side.

“Yes!”

Before any of them could respond to that comment, Atobe entered the room, dressed in a frilly pinkish-purple nightshirt and black slacks, with Kabaji right behind him. His eyes scanned the room and he raised a brow. “Since when did all of you wake up this early?” he questioned, mainly pointing it towards Jirou, who failed to notice that fact.

“Buchou!” Gakuto cried, springing up and latching onto the captain, who looked mortified at the contact. “They’re gone! They’re dead! Murdered!”

“Murdered? What are you going on about? And get off of Ore-sama!” With some reluctance, Gakuto backed away. “Yuushi! Just what the hell is going on here?!”

Yuushi sighed, glancing at the door. “We were woken up in the middle of the night by gunfire. Shishido and Mukahi went to check it out, and saw – “

“Dead bodies!” Gakuto interrupted. “There were two of them, one man and a woman!”

“There was blood everywhere,” Shishido added, shaking his head as if to rid himself of the memory.

“Yes, well,” Yuushi gave them a look. He clearly did not take too kindly to being interrupted. “After waking them up, Y/N and Choutarou headed over to take a look. They have yet to return.”

“Which cabin?” Atobe questioned, his face devoid of any emotion.

“It starts out East and then a sharp turn and you end up West,” Shishido explained, pointing to make his point.

Atobe shook his head with a sigh, barely refusing the urge to facepalm. “That cabin is being lent to friends of Ore-sama’s mother. They are practicing for their roles in the new movie, Slippery When Wet. It’s a murder mystery,”

“So they… were acting?” Gakuto questioned dumbly and Atobe nodded. “But… Y/N and Choutarou…”

“They either got lost or are talking with the two staying there.” Atobe ran a hand through his hair. “Ore-sama is sure they will return soon.”

“I hope you’re right,” Shishido muttered, staring outside, which was slowly becoming brighter as the sun rose higher into the sky, escorted by a mass of light gray clouds.

-ˋˏ ༻❅༺ ˎˊ-

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[mexicancat-girl]

Another for @bnhawlwweek! Day 2 Prompt: Clothing: Swimsuits

Fuyumi Todoroki/Miruko (Rumi Usagiyama)

ao3: link

It’s ridiculous that Rumi’s so nervous right now. Really. It is.

 She’s used to wearing stuff that shows off a lot of skin. A swimsuit should be no different.

 She runs around every day in a leotard as her hero costume, after all. She’s out there in the world as Pro Hero Miruko, wearing what is essentially a swimsuit while she literally kicks people’s asses, because the higher-ups and the public wouldn’t consider her ‘viable’ enough as a heroine without showing off a little skin.

 “You’re not feminine enough, Miruko.”

 “You’re too muscular, Miruko.”

 “You’ll never get popular, Miruko.”

It’s all a fucking ridiculous balancing act, honestly. If she shows off too much skin she’s ‘inappropriate’ and a slut, but if she doesn’t show off enough skin she won’t win popularity polls because she’s not playing the fanservice card like it’s expected for most female heroines.

 And then there’s her ‘abrasive and mannish personality’, which apparently also doesn’t do her any wonders.

 “You need to smile more, Miruko.”

 “You’re too violent Miruko.”

 “Your merch sales are down, Miruko.”

 Rumi takes in a breath and lets it out, counting down from ten just like her anger management specialist told her to do time and time again.

 Thinking about her managers and the sleaze-balls in charge of the hero system will only piss her the fuck off. Thinking about the misogynistic fuckwads that she has to save on a regularly basis and pander to for her to keep her ranking will make her want to punch a wall.

 She has to keep calm. She can’t step out of the changing room wanting to kill a man. She’s on a date. She’s wearing a swimsuit. She’s going to go swimming and flirt with her girlfriend, and then maybe buy a piña colada if she’s feeling too restless before realizing that she’s more partial to margaritas, downing both of them because she doesn’t want to waste the drinks.

 Yeah. Okay. Alright.

 She can do this.

 Rumi slowly opens the dressing room door, taking a cautionary peak out.

 Fuyumi is standing right outside. Abort, abort!

 She squeaks and instantly shuts the door again, heart jackrabbiting her chest and face flushing hot because oh God, she can’t do this.

 Especially after catching a glimpse of her girlfriend in her swimsuit. Just. God. God, she’s so fucking gay, and such a huge fucking disaster.

 Fuyumi was wearing a one-piece swimsuit. White and simple, with red trim, a red ribbon acting as a halter top to keep everything in place and modest.

 It was the most gorgeous sight Rumi’s ever laid eyes on in her entire life, she’s sure. Like. 1000% sure.

 With a groan, she puts her hands on her warm cheeks and tries very, very hard not to melt into a puddle of goo.

 “Rumi-chan…?” Fuyumi’s voice drifts through the wooden door, sounding so sweetly concerned it should be illegal. If it was illegal, Rumi would have to arrest her on the spot, and—yeah, no, her brain’s going down the drain fast. Abort.

 She tries to reply, but all that gets out is a strangled noise that sounds like a dying rabbit, which wow if that ain’t a huge Mood…

 “Rumi-chan, are you okay in there?” Fuyumi asks once more through the door, tapping it lightly in a knock. “Are you having trouble with your swimsuit…?”

 “No!” Rumi squeaks out, just a bit panicked. Oh fuck, she’s made her girlfriend worries now. Shit. “I-I’m fine! It’s fine! Everything’s fine! Ahahaha…”

 Gah, it’s so obvious she’s not fine! Christ, she’s such a bad actor! It’s no wonder she barely gets into commercials nowadays, much less any huge roles in TV or movies! Ugh.

 “Are your clothes damaged? Did a seam rip?” And now Fuyumi sounds a little panicked and frantic. “That’d be awful! It’s no wonder you don’t want to leave the changing room. I-I could get you an extra set of clothes, if you need it—”

 “I don’t—it’s fine, nothing’s ripped!” Rumi reassures her quickly, still feeling flustered, but not wanting her girlfriend to panic and worry even more. It must be her heroic instincts kicking in, even with a situation as ridiculously mundane as this.

 Though, it’s admittedly a little dumb that she’s being so chicken-shit, hiding and talk-yelling through the changing room door…

 Aw, fuck it. She’s gotta have to put her big girl panties on and just. Open the door. And let her girlfriend see her in her swimsuit.

 Her very frilly, sorta tacky swimsuit that she’d decided was a good idea to buy two weeks ago and is still sort of regretting.

 Rumi crosses her fingers behind her back for good luck, hoping she looks less dumb than she feels, and opens the changing room door.

 It almost takes her aback, seeing Fuyumi right in front of her in all her gorgeous ice sculpture-esque glory. Fuyumi blinks back at her, seemingly equally as stunned and startled.

 Her girlfriend’s hair is pulled back in a little ponytail with a red ribbon matching her swimsuit. And it takes Rumi a hot second, but to her astonishment, she notes that Fuyumi has hairclips in her hair.

 Little bunny hairclips.

 Rumi has to stop herself from clutching at her chest as the realization hits because oh my God, her girlfriend is so fucking adorable.

 “B-Bunnies?” Rumi squeaks out, cheeks aflame as she spastically gestures at her own temples, emulating where Fuyumi’s hairclips sit.

 Fuyumi’s already pink cheeks flush into a deeper pink as her hands fly up to said hairclips. “I-I, um…It’s—it’s going to sound so stupid, but, I…” clearly hesitating, she finally stutters out, “N-Never mind!”

 “They’re cute!” Rumi blurts out, voice way too loud in her effort to assuage her girlfriend’s worries. Clearing her throat, she forces herself back into a normal volume. “I mean, er…They’re…I like ‘em, is all.”

 Fuyumi’s embarrassed grimace wavers and is quickly replaced by a shy smile. “Oh! Um. Do you really…?”

 “Yeah. Yeah, they really suit ya,” Rumi says with a cough, awkward and trying to push through it. She was going to compliment her girlfriend, damn it, and her own terrible social skills weren’t gonna stop her! “Your swimsuit’s nice, too. You look good.”

 Wow, someone get a goddamn camera to catch this spectacular failure of Rumi Usagiyama giving basic compliments. She sounds so eloquent and convincing, she should win an award for Worst Flirting Ever.

 While Rumi beats herself up in her head over her less-than-stellar comments—seriously, could she only think of ‘you look good’?! Who even says that?!—she nearly misses Fuyumi’s answer.

 “Thank you! I…I don’t tend to wear swimsuits very much,” her girlfriend admits bashfully, idly fingering the red halter strap. “Haven’t exactly had many situations where one was needed, honestly…”

 “That so?” Rumi asks, quickly trying to scramble for a decent reply. “Can’t see why you wouldn’t. You must’ve gotten people flocking to take you on a summer date to the beach or pool. Sure thing for someone as smart and nice and pretty as you.”

 Ah, hell, she was rambling now.

 Rumi avoids Fuyumi’s gaze, scratching the back of her neck, smile awkward. Is she coming on too strong? She’s probably coming on too strong. Fuck.

 She hears a giggle, and carefully glances to see Fuyumi flushed and smiling.

 “I was never exactly popular as a person, really, so I didn’t tend to go out much… But thank you,” her girlfriend says, voice soft and warm, but with a sad look in her eyes.

 Rumi decides instantly that she hates the bittersweet tint in those sea-blue eyes and tries for a joke to lighten the mood. “Eh, I dunno. Sounds fake, but okay, babe.”

 This seems to startle a laugh out of Fuyumi, who clamps a hand over her mouth to ride out her ensuing giggles. Her eyes are bright and crinkled, happy; Rumi’s done her job.

 “C’mon, let’s head out. We’ll never get to swim at this rate,” Rumi says, a lopsided smile in place as she nudges her girlfriend. Fuyumi nods, an occasional giggle still stuttering out, and Rumi wraps an arm around her shoulders to guide them outside the changing rooms.

 The action seems to make Fuyumi go pink and duck her head, peering up at Rumi through her clipped-back bangs. Her skin is soft and slightly cool to the touch, surprisingly. Rumi’d always figured that it was just her hands that got cold. Maybe it’s got to do with her ice Quirk…?

 “I really like your swimsuit, by the way,” her girlfriend says, snapping Rumi out of her mesmerized state. Yeesh, she’d spend a whole day staring, if she wasn’t careful.

 “Eh? Really?” she asks, blinking dumbly, a pleased flush rising up her neck.

 Fuyumi giggles and nods. “Yes! It’s really cute. I think you look perfect in it.”

 Rumi feels herself puff up in pride, her confidence coming back full force from the compliment, assuaging her previous fears of her choice.

 She hadn’t been sure about her choice in swimsuit before now. It was a white two-piece, the top a sort of tankini that stopped mid-stomach. The bottom was a skirt made of ruffles. It showed more stomach than she was used to, but that wasn’t a problem; after all, she had a pretty great set of abs, if she did say so herself.

 The problem was that it was…cutesy. Ruffles usually weren’t her thing. And neither were bows, which were decorations scattered across her swimsuit. Even a huge bow decorated the front of her bust. But it fit her well, and it showed off her abs, and it wasn’t too flashy or too provocative. It gave her decent mobility as well, so she could take a swim and not have to worry about accidentally flashing anyone in the process.

 All Rumi had wanted was a swimsuit that was practical, but she’d left the store with the ruffled swimsuit thinking that it looked cute, so it might just help her look cute, too.

 Looks like her pick was right after all, huh?

 “Hell yeah I’m cute!” she hoots, bumping hips with her girlfriend. “But not as cute as you in your swimsuit!”

 “Oh, stop it,” Fuyumi waves her off bashfully, a hand on her pink cheek but still smiling goofily.

 “Just tellin’ the truth,” Rumi says seriously, eyes bright as she gently tugs on the other woman’s bangs. “Specially with those clips of yours? You’re the cutest girl around.”

 Fuyumi was thrown into another fit of giggles and Rumi grinned wolfishly.

 “I, ah…I-I actually got these hairclips to, um,” her girlfriend starts, smile soft and embarrassed. “To match with you…? Sort of.”

 Rumi stops in place, and blinks once, twice. It takes her a few seconds, but then she’s grinning so hard her smile nearly splits her face, and her ears twitch excitedly.

 “You wanted to…match with me?” she asks, still a little in disbelief, pointing at both her rabbit ears. “Seriously?”

 “I know, I know…” Fuyumi sputters out, waving her hands wildly in front of herself in defense, face nearly matching the red streaks in her hair. “It’s…It’s really cheesy and kinda dumb, and—”

 “Babe,” Rumi starts, serious, gently taking her girlfriend’s flailing hands in her own. She leans down and quickly pecks Fuyumi on the nose; if the other woman’s face wasn’t already the shade of a tomato, the public display of affection probably would’ve done it. “Babe, that is the sweetest fucking thing I’ve ever heard in my life. I love it.”

 Her girlfriend’s nervous and mortified smile wobbles, and in just a second, she’s breaking out into a radiant smile so bright that it rivals the sun.

 “I’m…I’m glad,” Fuyumi murmurs softly, leaning forwards to rub their noses together. “I just wanted to show some way of supporting you.”

 “Babe, you’re always supporting me,” Rumi reminds her, but it gets a wide smile from her anyways, her ears perking up.

 “And I always will,” the other woman confirms with a light peck to her lips. Rumi makes the approximate noise of a teakettle and gets a peck on a burning cheek as a reward, the sweet sound of Fuyumi’s giggles in her ears.

 She feels so mushy and soft and warm, like she’s just sunbathed for an entire day. And she hasn’t even been outside for ten minutes, yet.

 Fuyumi’s just got that sorta power, though. Even if she’s got an ice Quirk, she always makes Rumi feel warm and comfortable and oh-so-fond.

 Being with her is worth a hundred—no, a thousand summer days.

 And, honestly? Rumi can’t wait to spend each and every one of them with her.

[v-thinks-on]

The Valley of Fear

Part 5 of The Man Who Sold the World

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In the weeks that followed the debacle of the second Scandal in Bohemia, Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson came to a somewhat uncomfortable truce. They spoke amicably about anything other than the case at hand or any other that Watson may have been investigating, the topic of which was avoided at all costs. The doctor was left to pursue his practice alone with no input whatsoever from Holmes, who instead dedicated himself to housekeeping and music, which left him restless and frequently irritable.

It was early in the afternoon, nearly a month later. Watson was sifting through that day’s mail while Holmes watched from where he lay, strewn across his own chair in a fit of boredom that threatened for the worse. Amidst all the bills and advertisements, Watson came upon an old fashioned envelope. It was nothing special, at least it wouldn’t have been in 1887, but now it could not have been mistaken for an ordinary letter. Even the feel and weight of the paper were different.

Watson tore the envelope open to reveal a page of thick well worn paper bearing a familiar cypher. Holmes craned over to get a glimpse of the seemingly random string of numbers - and one letter - intercut with three words; “Douglas” followed by a repetition of “Birlstone.”

“What do you make of it?” Holmes asked, unable and unwilling to hold his peace any longer.

Watson put down the letter and gave him a reproachful look.

“Look at me, Watson, I’m wasting away. My mind begs to be used!”

Watson let out a sigh. He could feel this was not going to go his way. Still, he tried, “We can’t risk letting him get away again. Another man is dead, and the longer it takes to catch the culprit, the more victims will follow.”

“I can help,” Holmes insisted. “You know I am equal to it. For me to stay here and stagnate would be unfair to the both of us - in Moscow or London it’s the same. This is no life for me, my dear Watson, please understand.”

Watson heard the ultimatum as though it had been spoken aloud; if he did not allow Holmes to work with him, he would leave and that would be that. It stung badly to hear it aloud, even though Holmes had said it with a little more delicacy.

Watson had no choice, he could not bear to see him go, and Holmes knew it. There was no one else in the world who knew who he really was, who shared in his past. That alone may have settled it, but this was not just anyone; this was Sherlock Holmes, the dearest friend he had ever known, returned from the dead. No, he could not let Holmes vanish again.

Still, he reluctantly handed the letter over to the waiting detective.

Holmes glanced at it for a moment before rattling off, “Antique paper” - he sniffed it - “ink too, but still fresh. He was careful not to leave any prints, clearly a forgery - look at those horrible Greek e’s. It’s a standard book cypher, based on an old almanac, if I recall.” He turned back to the doctor and offered, his tone just shy of condescending, “So, what course of action do you suggest?”

After a moment’s consideration, Watson said, “We ought to solve the cypher to be sure - I think an old edition of Whitaker's almanac should do the trick, but we’ll have to go to the library for that. In the meantime, did you see anything in the morning paper?”

“Very reasonable,” Holmes declared, his energy returned with a vengeance. “I haven’t had a chance to look at the paper yet, but that can be remedied quickly enough.”

Watson stood as Holmes reached for the morning’s news. “Mrs. Houghton may know more than the press, especially if the case has already made it to London.”

“Don’t count our intrepid reporters out just yet. And there are advantages to working independently from the official force.”

“There are advantages to working with them too,” Watson said before picking up the phone, cutting one conversation short with another.

“Dr. Holmes, I was just meaning to call you!” Mrs. Houghton exclaimed on the other end of the line. “There’s been another one, out in Sussex this time.”

“I’ve just received a warning about it. I take it Mr. John Douglas was found dead in Birlstone Manor?”

“I don’t think the place is called Birlstone, but you’re right about the victim. I got a call this morning from the country Inspector. Apparently Douglas was shot around eleven last night. According to Inspector Mason, it looks like someone planted evidence of an intruder, but the current theory is that it was someone inside the house. The whole place is set up like the others were, all Victorian, which is why I was called in and I thought you might want to come along.”

“There’s not a minute to waste.”

“I can drive you, I’ll be over in a few.”

They both hung up and Watson turned back to Holmes, who was still flipping through the paper.

Holmes put the paper aside as Watson returned to his chair. “It seems Douglas’s murder was not quite in time to make the morning press. Tomorrow, I’m certain there will be a full feature on the matter.”

“I’m sure,” Watson said, his smile a little smug with his victory.

They were interrupted by a knock at the door.

Holmes and Watson exchanged a glance, but neither was expecting anyone - it was impossible for Mrs. Houghton to have arrived so quickly. Finally, Holmes gestured for Watson to go ahead.

So, the doctor shouted, “Come in.”

The door swung open and banged against the wall.

“A letter for Dr. Holmes!” a small boy proclaimed from the doorway.

He couldn’t have been older than twelve, dressed like a page boy not dissimilar from the one Holmes once had. But his oily hair and rough skin suggested he was a homeless child who had been paid to play the role.

“I am he,” the doctor said and held out his hand for the letter.

The boy handed it to him and the doctor gave him a tip.

“There's more where that came from if you can tell me who put you up to this.”

The boy laughed and shook his head.

“How much did he offer you? I'll double it,” the doctor insisted.

“He said he'd double your offer if I didn’t say anything.”

“And how will he know what you did or didn't say here?”

The boy thought about it for a moment. “He said his name’s Fred Porlock.”

“And where did you meet him?”

“Camberwell, in front of the post office.”

“Could you describe him for me? And then you can go on your way.”

“He was wearing a big yellow jacket. He’s tall and old, with gray hair and a silly moustache that he kept twitching.” 

Dr. Holmes nodded in thought. The moustache must have been fake, his hair could have easily been dyed, and it wasn’t so difficult for an experienced actor to play a man taller or shorter than himself. There wasn’t much he could glean from the description, but at least the boy had seen his face, if he could find him again.

“Did he say anything else?” Dr. Holmes attempted.

The boy shook his head. “Just to bring you the letter as fast as I could. He seemed pretty nervous about it, kept glancing over his shoulder like someone was following him. Are you spies?”

“No,” Dr. Holmes said, though he couldn’t help but smile a little at the suggestion. He handed the boy a sizable payment. “Where could I find you if I had more questions?”

“I’m usually in Camberwell,” the boy said, already running out the door.

If he hurried, Dr. Holmes could probably follow the boy on his next errand, perhaps catch a glimpse of the so-called Mr. Porlock for himself, but the chances of success were low compared to the risk of delaying their journey to the countryside.

“I doubt it would come to anything,” Holmes said, startling Watson out of his reverie. “We would do better to search for answers in Sussex than London.”

“How on Earth do you do that?” Watson exclaimed, caught entirely off guard.

“I’m relieved to find I can still surprise you on occasion.”

“Yes, I fear I’ve become entirely unaccustomed to your tricks.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t mastered it. It’s rather superficial.”

“I suppose I occasionally give Mrs. Houghton a bit of a shock, but I never intend to.”

“You’re much too modest, my dear Watson.”

“Am I?” Watson asked pointedly.

Holmes let out a barking laugh. “A distinct touch, Watson, a distinct touch.”

Watson smiled with his victory as he tore open the envelope the boy had delivered. Inside was a short note from one Mr. Fred Porlock announcing his resignation as turncoat. It had been hastily written, but holding the note and the cypher side by side Watson could see that they had the same distinctive features, forged and genuine.

“It’s a shame,” Holmes remarked, greatly subdued. “Porlock was the first man to turn informant on Professor Moriarty despite the grave risk. He didn’t have the courage for it in the end, but I shall always remember him for having taken the first step. And here he has been reduced to yet another agent playing his role.”

“Perhaps it’s not all in vain,” Watson suggested. “There may be some record of his presence at the Camberwell post office by which we can trace him, and that boy could serve as a witness - if we can find him again.”

Holmes just shook his head. “I fear our Mr. Porlock is long gone.”

As loathe as Watson was to admit it, Holmes was probably right.

They both sat ruminating in silence for a little longer until Mrs. Houghton arrived en route to Sussex.

“This may be our chance,” Mrs. Houghton declared as she waited in the doorway for Dr. Holmes to gather his things. “We’re pretty certain it must have been someone in the house - it doesn’t look like anyone escaped - and they’re all clearly in on it. Really, I don’t know what they were thinking, setting it up like this.”

“I’m afraid they very well know what they’re doing. I doubt the man behind these crimes is among the suspects, but perhaps he has made a mistake that will lead us to him. After all, no chain is stronger than its weakest link, we just need to apply the necessary pressure. Shall we?” The doctor gestured toward the door.

“Mr. Holmes, will you be joining us?” Mrs. Houghton asked with a glance at the doctor.

“I would love to,” Holmes answered with exaggerated politesse, “but I fear the decision is our dear doctor’s to make.”

The doctor gave a reluctant nod and they all made their way out onto the street.

It was nearing evening by the time the three detectives arrived at the old manor that served as the stage for the latest crime. They wound up a long driveway lined in old beech trees and parked in front of a large vegetable patch that encircled the house in place of an outer moat. Beyond that was the inner moat, still full of muddy water, surrounding the grand old manor house. As Mrs. Houghton had explained during the drive, the drawbridge that lay open across the moat was the only way into or out of the house, and it was raised at night.

A stout middle-aged man in plain clothes greeted them as they stepped out of the car. “Inspector Houghton,” he called out, “There you are! Inspector Gregson said you had gone into the city to find a specialist.” He gave both of the amateurs an appraising glance with a measure of disapproval. “We still haven’t found anyone tromping around in muddy trousers. At least one of them is lying, and the whole lot of them are pretty suspicious if you ask me.”

Mrs. Houghton nodded along as he spoke. Then she waved the amateurs forward - “Inspector Mason, this is Dr. Jonathan Holmes, and his friend, Sherlock Holmes. Dr. Holmes has been working with me on the case from the start and should be able to help us get to the bottom of it.”

“A pleasure to meet you,” the doctor said with a tip of his hat.

Holmes, in turn, stepped forward to greet the inspector with an outstretched hand, which the Inspector hesitantly shook. “Pleased to make your acquaintance. I don’t suppose you’re related to the late Inspector White Mason? I am quite familiar with his remarkable work in the Birlstone Manor case, but I didn’t know a penchant for detective work ran in the family.”

“My father was an officer and his father before him,” Inspector Mason explained with equal parts surprise and pride. “It’s good to hear that at least some word of my family’s work has gotten around.”

“The case your ancestor pursued was a very noteworthy one, not the least so in its parallels to the matter at hand. I believe you are quite right, and we intend to find out what’s going on.”

The doctor stepped in - “Shall we go in and see for ourselves?”

Inspector Mason startled and stared at the doctor as though he did not know what to make of him.

Holmes laughed. “Very well, we should not keep our dear doctor waiting.”

Watson was, to his credit, not disarmed by Holmes's smile as he passed, leaving the doctor and Mrs. Houghton to follow after. They exchanged a glance, but the doctor found little sympathy; Mrs. Houghton was on the verge of laughter herself.

Inspector Mason led them over the drawbridge and into the manor. The entire house was an antique, from the architecture,​ to the walls, to the furniture. It had not even been wired with electricity as the Baker Street flat had been. The various trappings lying about that should have given some insight into daily life in the manor looked to be as old as the house and could have once belonged to a country gentleman, but there was little evidence they had been used in the last century.

At the door they were greeted by a butler who, at first glance, looked as prim and proper as any. However, upon closer inspection, his clothes were not quite the right fit and he was more muscular than any butler the doctor had ever met. And then there was the tell-tale sign of a concealed weapon at his hip.

“What can I do for you” - the butler hesitated and what remained of his air of prim composure disintegrated into discomfort - “gentlemen?”

Holmes deferred to Watson with a glance, and so the doctor answered, “The scene itself first, if you will. And then we will need somewhere to interview everyone.”

The butler assented and led them a short way into the study. By the time they arrived, he and Holmes were in the midst of an avid conversation about football, of all things. They lingered at the door while the doctor followed Mrs. Houghton inside. Inspector Mason went off to attend to his own business.

The room had been emptied of its grizzly inhabitant, though some of the blood remained to emphasize the tape outline that marked where it had been. The familiar clues were there; the muddy footprints by the window, the bloody track on the sill, and the lone dumbbell sitting in the corner. The sawed off shotgun had no doubt been taken to ballistics already, assuming it had been present at all.

“Forensics finished up here a while ago,” Mrs. Houghton explained. “They've taken everything back to the lab to be analyzed, we'll get the report in a few days. If you want, I can show you all of their photographs of how everything was when they arrived. They removed the corpse, obviously, and a shotgun which we're taking to be the murder weapon unless they tell us otherwise.”

Dr. Holmes nodded. “Do those footprints match any shoes in the house?”

“The one on the sill was clearly made by one of Cecil Barker’s slippers, it was obviously faked. Someone dipped the slipper in blood and pressed it there, but we're still trying to figure out who. We haven't found the boots that made the muddy prints on the floor.”

“This is truly a marvelous piece of work,” Holmes remarked, having joined them at last. His eyes shone with enthusiasm. “It's a shame your people have mucked about the scene so thoroughly, you haven't left us much to work with.”

He examined the scene, his eyes flitting this way and that, performing calculations the doctor could not even begin to fathom, as familiar as he was with the detective's methods.

“We haven't been ‘mucking about,’” Mrs. Houghton replied, with only a touch of humor to soften her otherwise sharp tone. “The forensic scientists have done their job and now we're doing ours.”

“Things have changed a lot,” the doctor attempted to explain, “The police have picked up a lot of your old methods and they’ve got the resources to more than do them justice. There's even new technology-”

Holmes cut him off with a wave, “No matter, there's enough left to draw a few conclusions.” He rounded on the doctor with an impish smile, “You have your methods, what do you observe?”

The doctor frowned. Though Holmes’s prompting questions had helped him begin to learn to imitate Holmes's deduction, now the detective's tone grated. Would he always have to prove himself - and then not even be Holmes's equal.

Still, the doctor had his pride. He examined the ground until he had gleaned enough to say, “These tracks are clear thanks to the rain a few days ago. I believe they include some of the dark mud we passed by the station in town, perhaps he arrived by train. They go straight from the door to those distinctive marks behind the curtains. Then, after some time, he stepped out and there was some sort of scuffle” - he followed the footprints around the room as he narrated - “And they end here by the body.”

“Excellent!” Holmes exclaimed, and for an instant Watson glowed with pride. “Though, of course, we both knew all that before we so much as entered the room. What do you see?”

The doctor’s smile quickly went flat. Two could play at this game - “What do you see?”

“Aside from the drops of blood on the floor made by the slipper as it was being carried to the window to make that print, a candle that is only barely burned - suggesting that there was only a brief interview between the victim and the perpetrator - and of course the missing dumbbell?” Holmes answered with a smirk and turned to Mrs. Houghton - “I take it your forensic scientists removed the card bearing the initials 'V. V.’ and the number, ‘341?’”

She nearly jumped in surprise, but quickly regained her bearings. “Yes, of course, it's in for handwriting​ and materials analysis. I think they're also sweeping it for fingerprints.”

“It must have been laid down after the crime was committed - see how the blood is smeared here” - Holmes pointed at a roughly rectangular spot on the ground that fit the description. “Shall I go on, or do you want another crack at it?” he challenged the doctor.

The doctor considered the facts and his surroundings for a moment before he responded, “That the candle was only briefly lit reveals little. It could have been lit any time today or even in the past week, especially if someone in the house was involved in setting up the scene. People nowadays use torches or even cell phones to the same effect. The lamp wasn’t even used, suggesting that for anything longer than a few minutes he must have had a different source of light that’s no longer in the room.” He turned to Mrs. Houghton and asked, “Was there anything here earlier?”

She shook her head.

Holmes stepped over to the candle and examined it. “It’s new and can’t have been lit more than a few days ago,” he pronounced.

Dr. Holmes frowned. “That still doesn't mean-”

He was interrupted by a pair of sharp knocks at the door. Without waiting for an answer, the door swung open and banged against the wall to make way for a rather excited young man who must have been none other than Mr. Cecil Barker, the friend of the Douglas’s who happened to be staying with them at the time of their misfortune. He was breathing hard as though he had just returned from a long dash and his pants legs were splashed with mud that could have easily come from the road leading up to the house. He glanced between the detectives gathered in the room.

“Just in time,” Holmes remarked.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Mr. Barker said, paying Holmes no heed. “I have news!”

Mrs. Houghton stepped forward. “What is it?”

“We- they’ve found a bicycle, his bicycle! He left it behind, not far from the house!”

“We may as well have a look then, shall we?” Holmes declared as though the matter was decided.

The doctor, however, turned to Mrs. Houghton, “Would it be possible for you or Inspector Mason to look into the bicycle, perhaps determine its origin? I would rather get a start on interviewing the witnesses, if it is all the same.” He shot a pointed glance at Holmes.

Mrs. Houghton followed his gaze. “You’re sure you’ll be alright?”

“There is no cause for concern,” Holmes answered. “We’re quite accustomed to working together.”

“At least, we once were,” the doctor could not help but add.

Watson regretted it as soon as the words left his lips and for an instant he saw a look of deep hurt cross Holmes's face, but it was gone as soon as it had come, replaced by a smile he may have only fancied was a little forced.

“Don’t worry,” Holmes insisted in his easy way, “we’ll manage.”

“If you're sure…” Mrs. Houghton said and allowed Mr. Barker to lead her out of the room.

And so, Holmes and Watson were left alone. Watson was about to apologize, but Holmes spoke first.

“What now?” he asked, watching Watson with steely gray eyes and a sharp, critical air.

Watson hesitated, suddenly uncertain, “Well, I was thinking of interviewing the witnesses first…”

“Yes, you said as much. Who first? You seemed to have a plan.”

Watson glared at him, but he didn't really have much more of an answer. The doctor had just planned on hearing the witnesses’ stories and going from there. Was it not Holmes who had always cautioned against theorizing too much before the facts of the case were known? Watson elected not to dignify Holmes with a response and instead led the way out of the study and called for the butler.

The butler promptly arrived and greeted Holmes with a smile.

He seemed ready to resume their conversation about football when the doctor interrupted in his closest imitation of Holmes’s exaggerated politeness, though it came out a little sharper than the original, “Pardon me.”

The butler turned on him with a somewhat uncomfortable, “Sir?” that was a tad more aggressive than was proper.

“We’re finished in the study,” the doctor explained, “Do you have somewhere prepared for us to interview the witnesses?”

“Will the dining room be sufficient?” the butler answered stiffly.

The doctor nodded and answered with a smile, “It’ll do quite nicely, thank you.”

The butler exchanged a glance with Holmes, who merely shrugged in an intimation of innocence, before leading them to the stately dining room that would serve as their base of operations for the next phase of the investigation. The room was rather sparse aside from the requisite period appropriate decorations. The table bore a few small scratches and stains that indicated a few meals had been eaten there recently, but not many. Mostly, it seemed to be a set piece like the rest of the house.

The butler made to leave with a sharp nod to the doctor and an easy wave to Holmes, but the doctor motioned to detain him.

“While you are here, we may as well interview you first.”

With another glance at Holmes, the butler nodded and took a seat across from them at the table.

“For starters, I don't believe I ever got your name,” the doctor began.

“You can call me Ames.”

The doctor frowned - that was a point against the butler. “Your full name, please.”

Holmes cut him off with a dismissive wave before the butler could refuse to answer and asked all too casually, “What was Mr. Douglas like as an employer?”

The doctor shot Holmes a glare, but accepted the line of questioning. “It was Mr. Douglas who hired you?”

The butler nodded. “I met with him personally.”

“And what terms were those?” the doctor pressed.

“That’s between me and my employer.”

Holmes nodded in agreement. “Of course. All we need is to know is what you observed on the night in question and then you’re free to go.”

“Now wait a minute, Holmes!” the doctor exclaimed. “That may be all you need to know, but I have a few other questions I’d like to get to.”

“Really? And what essential questions did you have in mind?”

The doctor took a deep breath and tried to forget his insufferable companion.

At last, he turned to the witness and asked as cordially and professionally as he could, “If you don’t mind, I would like to begin with your own history, starting with your name please.”

Holmes made a noise of impatience, but did not interrupt. He had leaned back in his chair to watch the proceedings with the air of a critic observing a piece by an artist for whom he had very low esteem.

The butler considered for a moment, but seemed to take pity on the beleaguered doctor, “My name is Phillip Cole. John suggested I take on the name Ames while I worked here.”

“Do you know why?” the doctor asked with a glance at Holmes.

The detective continued to judge his performance in silence.

Mr. Cole shrugged. “Maybe he thought it fit the theme of the place better.”

They would come back to the question of Mr. Douglas, instead the doctor continued on in order - “Mr. Cole, where are you from?”

“London. I’ve lived in the city for most of my life,” Mr. Cole said.

“I wouldn’t live anywhere else,” Holmes put in with a wistful smile.

Watson tried to catch Holmes’s eye, but he was staring off into space with a distinct air of melodrama. Knowing him - a former spy no less - it was probably just an act, though Watson could not fathom to what ends.

The doctor forced himself back to the matter at hand. “Where were you employed before coming out here?”

“I was a bouncer at a bar in London.”

“How did you meet Mr. Douglas?”

“He came by the bar a few times, asked me a lot of questions, though he could have just asked for a resume” - Holmes chuckled - “eventually he offered me this job.”

“And what does your job entail?”

Mr. Cole shrugged. “Mostly delegating things to the maids and the rest of the staff. Mr. Douglas tells me what to do and I pass it along.”

“You don't have any prior experience as a butler,” the doctor remarked.

“None whatsoever.”

“Do you know why Mr. Douglas hired you for the job?” the doctor asked as delicately as he could.

“I guess he just wanted the extra pair of hands.”

“You said he specifically sought you out.”

“Maybe I looked the part.”

“I see…” the doctor said, torn between hiding his disbelief and pushing for a real answer.

Holmes seemed to have no such qualms and gave the witness a skeptical look.

“Well, he did seem nervous, the past few days especially, like he knew what was coming, but I'm no bodyguard,” Mr. Cole insisted.

The doctor had gleaned enough about Mr. Cole for the time being, so he turned to his late employer. “What was Mr. Douglas like?”

“You mean aside from all this?” Mr. Cole gestured at their surroundings.

The doctor smiled. “Yes, how would you describe him?”

“He seemed pretty normal otherwise, always stopped to chat with me when he had the time. Not afraid to speak his mind either. He got into a fight at the bar one time, didn't do too poorly either. He wasn't one to back away from a fight.”

That seemed to match the original rather closely, but that could have been the man himself or the butler’s invention.

“Did you know anything of his past?” the doctor asked.

Mr. Cole shook his head. “I didn't ask and he​ didn't say.”

“What about the other members of the household? Mr. Barker and Mrs. Douglas?”

Mr. Cole chuckled darkly. “If they weren't having an affair, well, I can't fathom what else they’ve been up to meeting in secret in the dead of night. John seemed to know it too, or at least suspect. He and Cecil were best friends until Ivy entered the room. Your little tiff earlier had nothing on the fights John and Cecil have and I for one can’t say I blame the man. Cecil practically lives here, no clue why John lets him.”

“How was the relationship between Mr. and Mrs. Douglas?”

“Seemed normal enough, I suppose. She is a lot younger than him, closer to Cecil’s age. She seemed to care about him in her way, always worried about him when he was out.”

“What happened on the night of Mr. Douglas’s death?”

“Nothing unusual, I don't think…” Mr. Cole trailed off in consideration. “They did have a woman over for dinner.”

“Did you get her name, by any chance?”

“Mary, I think.”

Watson tensed. It could not be the same, she would not go under the same name, this was the wrong case. And yet, Watson had also heard her posing as Miss Irene Adler in disguise.

“Did you get her last name?” He asked, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.

“It started with a 'W,’ I think, Weston, no, Watson, that's what it was!”

Mary Watson.

Dr. John Watson blanched.

He remembered his dear, beloved wife, wasting away while he - a doctor, for goodness’s sake! - could only stand by and watch. Unlike Holmes, he had seen her die, the coffin he buried had not been empty. This- this was a mockery of her memory, the only thing of her he had left.

His fists clenched.

“Is everything alright?” Mr. Cole asked from a great distance away. “Do you know her?”

Watson forced himself back to the present and shook his head in an attempt at a  coherent answer.

“Could you describe her to me?” he asked, his voice still a little choked.

“Sure,” Mr. Cole answered sounding anything but. “She was well dressed and all - not bad looking. She was small with short brown hair…” he trailed off as he searched his memory. “Very sure of herself. She was nice enough, but she almost acted like she owned the place.”

Watson nodded. That was her. She could have easily cut her hair and dyed it or worn a wig. She had used that name on purpose - it could not have been anyone else. He did not doubt that she had kept in character as she had when the doctor met her. It was unlikely that she had let anything slip. But still, he had to try.

“How does she know Mr. and Mrs. Douglas?” the doctor asked.

Mr. Cole shrugged. “I didn’t ask.”

“You must have heard something,” the doctor insisted.

Mr. Cole hesitated, but obliged, “I didn't overhear much, I wasn't eavesdropping. They seemed to be friends, if a little distant, maybe a bit awkward or something, but I didn't see anything.”

“Did you overhear any of their conversation?”

Mr. Cole glanced at Holmes before answering, “I don't think so… just small talk. If you don't mind my asking, what does this have to do with the murder? She left long before John - well - died. I saw her out myself.”

“An excellent question,” Holmes said and turned to the doctor with a pointed look.

The doctor glared at him. “It has everything to do with the case!”

“Do you really expect to gather anything from that line of questioning?” Holmes asked, but some of the edge in his voice was gone.

Still, the doctor bristled, even as he tried to focus on the witness. “If you don't​ know anything more about-” he did not want to honor her with the name she had falsely claimed, “her, we may as well continue on to the crime itself. How did you spend the remainder of the evening?”

Holmes was mercifully silent as Mr. Cole answered, “Well, first John asked me to raise the drawbridge. It was down later than usual because of their little dinner party and he seemed a bit nervous. After that, I went to put away the dishes,” he said with a chuckle.

The doctor gave him a questioning look, and he explained, “When John told me to get out the silver for dinner, I thought he was joking. But no, there really was silver. It was in a pantry all the way on the far side of the house. When I went to take it out, it looked like it had never been used, it was badly in need of dusting. But they cleaned it up in the kitchen and used it for dinner.”

“What happened then?” the doctor pushed things back on track.

“I was putting away the silver when I heard someone frantically pulling at the bell - the house is full of bells and pulls so that John or anyone else can call me from wherever they are. I ran to the front of the house where I met Mrs. Allen - she’s the housekeeper. We found Cecil and Ivy arguing at the door to the study. At first I thought they were having a lover’s spat, but then Ivy shouted to us that John was dead. She said she had called the police and that there was nothing to be done, but I insisted on seeing for myself.” He shook his head like a man who now knew the error of his ways. “What I saw, well, I'm sure you've seen the pictures. I'm not ashamed to say it will haunt my nightmares for years to come.”

The doctor nodded. He remembered how the presumed Mr. Douglas had been found, he saw the body. The sight of a man with his face blown in had lingered in his nightmares even long after he knew the victim had earned his fate.

“Did anything more happen before the police arrived?” the doctor asked.

Mr. Cole shook his head. “It wasn't long, it's a short drive to town from here, though it doesn't seem it.”

“I believe that is all,” the doctor said, “Thank you very much for your cooperation.”

“You're welcome, good luck to the both of you,” Mr. Cole said and stood to take his leave.

“Please ask Mrs. Douglas to join us.”

Mr. Cole nodded and left them alone once more.

Once his footsteps had faded out of earshot, Holmes asked, “You mean to say you couldn't ​tell he was a bouncer? You must have seen how he stood at the door, blocking it as he invited us inside, the scrapes from fights with unruly patrons, and of course the 'concealed’ weapon.”

“I had my theories,” the doctor said.

“But only one fit all the facts.”

“I don't know,” the doctor exclaimed. “There are many other explanations I could think of, and many more I'm certain I couldn't. So much of this case hinges on who the suspects really are, I wanted to hear it from him.”

“You think our criminal mastermind would let something slip in an official interview?”

“One of his employees might. And no one can keep a story perfectly straight. If you ask enough questions they’re sure to make some sort of contradiction.”

“As is an honest witness. You won’t get anything directly tying the culprit to their crime this way, just loose suspicions.”

“Perhaps that’s all you see, but somehow I’ve managed by it,” the doctor retorted. “What method do you suggest?”

“Perhaps something a little more subtle, that’s all,” Holmes said with an enigmatic shrug.

“I’m a detective, not a spy!”

Holmes's gaze turned sharp and Watson readied himself for a retort, but suddenly the detective let out a harsh barking laugh.

“A distinct touch, Dr. Holmes,” he said with a mirthless smile.

The doctor frowned, but did not feel nearly as bad as he knew he should have. Instead of apologizing, he turned to face the door and wait for the next witness to arrive.

She did not take long to announce herself with a steady knock at the door.

Holmes was silent, so the doctor said, “Come in!”

The door swung open to make way for a middle aged woman whose dress and worn hands declared her to be the housekeeper.

“Good afternoon,” Holmes greeted her, his easy congeniality returned as though it had never gone. “Thank you for taking the time out of your busy day to answer a few questions for us.”

“Not at all. Mrs. Douglas sent me down ahead of her and said she’ll be ready soon,” the housekeeper explained.

“Let's get to it then,” the doctor said, “Do have a seat.”

She sat down and the questioning began. Holmes said little, only interrupting every so often to make some conversational comment that threatened to draw the witness away from the inquiry altogether.  But they did not last long and on the whole he was a silent observer, even going so far as to feign boredom with an occasional yawn.

As far as the doctor could tell, Mrs. Amy Allen, as she identified herself, was just as she seemed to be. She told them that she was an experienced housekeeper from London who had been hired by Mr. Douglas to do a somewhat unusual, but well paying and otherwise reasonable job. Dr. Holmes believed her, though a background check would confirm or deny the sentiment.

She was reluctant to say too much about her employers beyond that they were generally polite and agreeable. When pressed, she acknowledged that there were not infrequent disputes between Mr. Douglas and Mr. Barker, but did not dare speculate about their cause.

Her testimony about the evening of the crime corroborated Mr. Cole’s account. She had met her employers’ dinner guest and identified her under the same alias. After dinner, Mrs. Douglas had gone upstairs and suggested Mrs. Allen turn in as well. She had heard a door slam, but no gunshot. Like Mr. Cole, she had been summoned by the ringing of the bell and had found Mrs. Douglas and Mr. Barker arguing in front of the study. She had also entered the study briefly and found the same grisly scene.

“After that I helped Mrs. Douglas upstairs. She was so shocked she could barely cry. I offered to keep her company, but she said she would rather be alone, so I returned downstairs to wait for the police to arrive,” Mrs. Allen concluded.

Her story matched the original sequence of events well, but she was, by all appearances, innocent. At the very least, the doctor doubted there was much more to be gained by questioning her more now. He reflexively glanced at Holmes, but the detective appeared lost to the world, his eyes were half shut, out of boredom or in thought the doctor did not know.

So he relied on his own judgement and said to Mrs. Allen with a smile, “Thank you very much for answering all of our questions, you're free to go.”

Holmes seemed to startle into awareness, but it was a little too forceful for the doctor to believe it.

“Yes, do have a nice afternoon,” he said as Mrs. Allen stood to leave. “Those petunias will bring some nice color to that patch by the windows.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, and then she let out a peal of laughter. “You must have seen them on your way in. I do hope so, you have to come by and see them this evening when I've planted them. Good afternoon to both of you as well, and good luck.”

With that, Mrs. Allen took her leave. Mrs. Douglas greeted her at the door and took her place at the table.

“Good afternoon,” the lady said as though there was nothing good about it, but she remained composed.

The doctor could not tell whether her voice carried some undercurrent of antagonism or just the pain of loss. Did she, like the original Mrs. Ivy Douglas, know her husband - if they truly were married - to still be alive and feared for his freedom, or was she completely in the dark as the housekeeper and butler seemed to be? Or was she but another actress in yet another murder staged as a piece of macabre theater?

And what of Holmes? The doctor glanced at his companion. He seemed to have roused himself from his pretended rest and was now hunched forward, examining Mrs. Douglas with a curious air. The doctor wondered what Holmes found so intriguing, but prepared himself for the worst. As unfortunate as it was, he had a much easier time of things when Holmes was feigning disinterest, even if it was a little unsettling not knowing what he had planned.

The doctor greeted Mrs. Douglas with a solemn nod. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Yes, a real tragedy,” Holmes said, almost dismissively.

Mrs. Douglas looked taken aback, as anyone would be by the detective’s tone and piercing gaze. But she asked without a hint of trepidation, “Have you found anything out yet?”

“We are doing everything we can,” the doctor answered, “and we hope that your testimony could help shine a little more light on what happened. No trifle is too small to be of use.”

“I fear there is little I can add. Have you spoken with Cecil yet?”

“What information do you think Mr. Barker will provide?” the doctor asked.

“I didn’t see anything; Cecil wouldn’t let me into the study, said it was too terrible. And he’s known John for much longer than I have.” She spoke in a very matter-of-fact, straightforward way, though her expression remained clouded.

“He’ll have his chance,” the doctor assured her. “Now, can I have your legal name?”

She gave him a look of confusion, but answered all the same, “Ivy Douglas.”

“And your maiden name?”

“Blackmore. Why? What does my name have to do with the case?”

“It’s just a legal matter and good practice to ascertain the identities of one’s witnesses. And where are you from?”

“Newton Abbot, in Devon, though I haven’t lived anywhere long,” she said with a dark chuckle. “As strange as this all is”  - she gestured at the house around them - “I’ve really settled down since I married John-” her face fell.

She busied herself with her handkerchief and the doctor gave her a moment to recompose herself.

When she seemed ready, the doctor asked, “There was something unusual about your marriage?”

“I know this isn’t what you’d call a normal household. But I never thought anything like this would happen, John just had some peculiar tastes, that’s all.”

The doctor gave her another moment to recover before moving on, “You said you moved frequently. What for? Work?”

She shook her head. “You could call it youthful restlessness. I lived hand-to-mouth for a while, doing odd jobs or just living by what people were kind enough to give me.”

“How did you meet Mr. Douglas?”

She hesitated, drawing her handkerchief up to her face as though to preserve her appearance of self-possession. “I returned to London to try and get my life together. I was staying at a hotel and he happened to be staying there too - he had returned to England looking for a fresh start too. We met at the hotel bar and it wasn’t long before we were married.”

“And how did you meet Mr. Barker?”

“He’s an old friend of John’s from America. He moved back to England not long after we moved in here and since he’s been around more than he hasn’t.”

“What do you know of Mr. Douglas and Mr. Barker’s pasts? You said they knew each other from America?”

“They tell all kinds of stories of California and their time in Silicon Valley. That’s where they both made their fortunes mining virtual gold.”

“And that’s where they were before they came to England?”

“Yes.”

“What about their lives before then?”

“John avoided talking about his life before he went to California, but I could tell he was afraid of something from his past. He’s had nightmares and once I heard him murmur the name ‘Bodymaster McGinty.’ I asked him about it, but he refused to say any more. A few times, he mentioned a ‘valley of fear’ that he was afraid he would never escape, but that was all he would say about it. I can only assume that’s what happened.” Mrs. Douglas let out a small gasp and ducked behind her handkerchief once more.

She seemed to know her story at least, but whether it came from her or her husband was anyone’s guess. “Do you know why your husband had such peculiar tastes?” Dr. Holmes attempted.

“I always supposed he was just old fashioned,” she said with a shrug.

“Was there anything else that struck you as unusual about your life here?”

She shook her head.

“Mr. Cole and Mrs. Allen mentioned you had a guest last night, who was she?” the doctor asked.

“I think she’s a friend of John and Cecil’s - I don’t know her. Mary Watson, that was her name. Do you think she may have been involved? They did seem a little wary of her, but I was only there for a little while before I went upstairs.”

Before Dr. Holmes had a chance to continue questioning her about the night of the murder, there was a knock on the dining room door.

“Yes?” the doctor called out, perhaps a little impatient.

It was Mr. Cole with Mrs. Houghton in tow.

Dr. Holmes let out a sigh of relief and waved her inside at the same time as Holmes said, “Just a moment, Inspector, if you would be so kind as to wait outside until we’re done.”

She remained standing in the doorway, watching as the argument unfolded.

“What? Why?” the doctor demanded.

“Why do you feel the need for official oversight? You were doing plenty well on your own, weren’t you?” Holmes gave a dismissive wave and his tone suggested it didn’t really matter how well or not Watson was doing.

“What are you playing at?” the doctor snapped. It felt like Holmes was just making argument for argument’s sake.

“I just don’t appreciate your implication that we need official supervision,” Holmes retorted. The nonchalant way in which he said it only served to feed Watson’s ire.

“I let you come along to help! But you’ve done nothing but critique my methods and obstruct my investigation. Mrs. Houghton and the other ‘officials’ have done more to contribute than you have.”

Watson glimpsed a flash of hurt in Holmes’s eyes, but it was gone before he had time to fully register it, and then Holmes was on his feet, towering over them all. Watson could feel a subtle undercurrent of powerful emotion radiating from him - his hands seemed to shake by his sides - but Holmes kept his tone perfectly casual. “I refuse to work under these conditions. If you don’t think you need my help, then so be it - see how you do without me.”

And with that, Sherlock Holmes slunk from the room.

[yoyo-inspace]

BREAKDOWN of the His Dark Materials teaser trailer

If you’re like me and love speculating and pausing a trailer for every frame to try and figure it out - this is definitely the post for you!

If you’re not like me and would like things to come as a surprise to you, or don’t want to speculate much with months still to go before seeing the finished product, then maybe this is not the post for you. 

Anyway, below the cut, I’m going to proceed to poke and prod at the HDM teaser trailer to see what it can tell us - and also freak out a lot. Because I do that.

Alright, so first off, this is definitely a teaser trailer. As they’ve said across multiple social media accounts, it was more to keep interest up and to give the fans something, a little tease, so to say. It’s also mostly just showing off core members of the cast, or famous actors in the cast. As many have pointed out - no daemons! “We’re keeping our daemons close” as they said on twitter. Probably still in post-production would be my guess? But I’ll happily take what we have so far and run with it. So, let’s start!

First off, we have two shots which should be very easy to guess for anyone who’s familiar with how the story starts. 

Yes, that’s right, it’s Lyra in the cupboard. Listening in to the conversation and presentation Lord Asriel has for the scholars. The strong light in the second one could just be the light in the room outside, but my personal guess (considering how much stronger the light is from the first picture) is that it’s the light from the projector when Asriel shows off the pictures. 

Next up is this: 

A very vague shot of someone moving a volume of Encyclopædia Britannica. My guess would be that this is still at Jordan, maybe something involving the Master and the Librarian, or possibly even Lyra moving around the college. Why they chose to focus on it in the trailer is interesting though. Maybe just to show off the setting? 

Next up, it’s our first look of James McAvoy as Lord Asriel!

oh my god he looks so good as Asriel I’m so hyped So I think this is quite obviously the retiring room. Probably after the attempted poisoning, when the other scholars are starting to file in. Asriel’s look, the way he turns his head up, accompanied by the very next clip makes me think that this might be Asriel looking suspiciously at the Master since he now knows what he tried to do. 

Because, right next up, we have Clarke Peters as the Master of Jordan College - or as we now know him, after “La Belle Sauvage”, Dr. Carne.

Maybe him locking eyes with Asriel across the room after realising that he’s still alive. At least I think this is still in the Retiring Room. Probably very early episode 1 stuff. It’s interesting that they’re focusing so much on him in this - even giving his name a spot in the trailer. I don’t know if they’re doing that because he’s a famous actor and it gives name recognition, or if they’ve expanded his role somewhat. I’d honestly be fine with that. I’ve always found him to be a fascinating character and the movie butchered a lot of that by having it be Fra Pavel trying to poison Asriel instead but I’m getting off topic. 

Next up we have Lyra in her blue dress - running away!

Everything points to this being the night she runs away from Mrs. Coulter’s cocktail party. If I’m not mistaken, that was in London, but I think they still filmed this in Oxford. Either way, not much to take away from this other than 1) that scene is in there and 2) we’re getting more teaser trailer shots of Dafne Keen as Lyra and that’s pretty hype. That blue dress looks great. 

Next up, it’s time for Ruth Wilson as Mrs. Coulter in these two shots!

I’m taking them together because due to the way she’s dressed and the building around them, they seem to be from the same scene, or at least the same area.

The first one simply sees her opening a door at a distance. The building could either be churchly, something Magisterium related, or it could be a scholarly college building. Look, it’s (most likely) Oxford, it’s very hard to tell one from the other. 

Second is a close-up (doesn’t she look great!), and the clip shows her walking slowly, confidently, while a bunch of men run and seem to be in a bit of a hurry. I honestly have no idea what this could be in relation to the book - but we know we’re getting an expansion of her character and that we’re getting more Mrs. Coulter stuff, so this could very well be one of those. The men running, at first glance I thought they were Magisterium guards, but at a closer look, their clothes make them seem more like scholars, possibly theologians or something similar. Could also be other people working for the Magisterium, but my bet is scholars for now. As to what they’re running to (from?) that Mrs. Coulter seems to be in no rush about - your guess is as good as mine. 

Next up we have some dramatic music along with reveals of the names of some of the actors, as well as shots of said actors directly afterwards.

First up is Dafne Keen.

Lyra, in the North. She turns her head, looking quite scared, or worried. There’s not a lot of clues to where this would be taking place (except for like, in the latter half of the show, probably). Possibly when she finds Tony Makarios, or when their camp gets attacked. But given the solitude of her her, it could just as well be her 1) by Bolvangar, 2) right before she’s taken to the bears or 3) on her way to stop Asriel. Either way, likelihood is high that nothing good is happening. 

Ruth Wilson! 

Look at that outfit! I love it! Still no idea where this could be! I mean, it’s most likely in the North. It seems to me as this series will take a page out of the latter books, and follow multiple storylines along with Lyra’s. In Northern Lights, I think there was only like a chapter or two, or perhaps even just parts of a chapter, that were not from Lyra’s perspective. I for one would be all for more Marisa stuff - and my guess would be that this is one of them. Her getting to the North, her in the North - either way, she’s somewhere cold. This might even be her ending outfit, from when she confronts Asriel. It’s a very big hangar she’s in either way - could that be Bolvangar? Would they have such a big hangar? Or somewhere else? Maybe she still hasn’t gotten to the north, but is dressed for the occasion. Who knows. 

James McAvoy’s turn next!

Looking appropriately shady. Given the equipment (and the state of it) in the background, my guess would be that this is very late in the series - possibly when Lyra arrives at his “prison”. He looks like he’s had a rough time, despite everything. And his hair seems very similar to how it looked in that livestream James McAvoy did on his last days of filming. (Is it just me, or does his hair have more grey streaks than in his first appearance? Did the bears make your hair turn grey, Asriel?)

Next up, Clarke Peters!

Again, the focus on the Master is surprising, but not unwelcome (to me at least). But I’m also thinking that maybe he will just not be that big of a character, and they might just be focusing on it for name recognition. Either way, he’s probably at Jordan here, sitting in front of a fireplace. My guess would be that it’s his talk with the librarian, about Lyra and her destiny and betrayal and all that. He has cause for looking concerned. 

And now, he’s here! First shot of Lin-Manuel Miranda as Lee Scoresby! 

Looking very serious indeed! The person that’s out of focus that he’s looking at might very well be Lyra - this could be just after they’ve first met, or Lyra telling him what Iorek is about to do.

The next shot, someone taking their gun out of a holster, is shown quickly afterwards. Probably still Lee, but I’m unsure if it’s the same scene as above. Lighting seems very different. Though Lee is not the only one with a gun in this trailer, and we’ll get back to that shortly.

But before that, while we might not get a look at our favourite armoured bear in this teaser, we do get to hear him (or a roar, at least). 

This shot shows some terrified guard scrambling away from something that’s clearly terrified him (and maybe broken down a door) while other guards stand around with weapons. A solid guess would be that this is Trollesund, and this is when Iorek’s broken in to get his armour back. The way this guard is dressed makes me think that maybe the people running around Mrs. Coulter earlier might actually have been other people working at the Magisterium. Hmm.

So, speaking of guns and weapons. 

We see Mrs. Coulter in a fancy hallway, following someone who seems to have taken something (at least he has something in his hand). Doesn’t seem like he’ll get very far though, as Mrs. Coulter has a gun (!!!) and apparently a really calm, secure aim. Could this be one of the spies John Faa and Farder Coram sends out? If so, we know that doesn’t go very well, even if the detail of Mrs. Coulter taking care of it is slightly different. Could also be something completely different. On that note - she’s wearing a lot of blue so far, isn’t she? 

Next up we have some poor guard throwing himself (or being thrown) out a very fancy window. Yeet out the magisterium Given the look of the buildings, I’d say this is still Trollesund, and this might be the work of Iorek. 

What follows is the crescendo of the trailer with a lot of shots being thrown at the viewer at rapid-fire pace. 

A shot of someone (Lyra? Mrs. Coulter?) in a snowstorm, reacting to a very strong light. Given the colour of the hat, my guess would be Lyra, and possibly the moment Asriel activates his machine, or at least around that timeframe. 

Another shot of Asriel up next, in a truck (??) with a lot of equipment. He doesn’t look as worn out as the previous clip of him, so my guess would be that this is a shot before he gets captured. Which means that, just like I speculated before, we might get to follow the rest of the characters beside Lyra. Interestingly, this seems to be one thing that this tv series has in common with the movie - something I honestly don’t mind, as split storylines is usually what works better in a tv or movie format than following a single protagonist all the time. 

Following shots seem to all be from Bolvangar. First off we have a sciency-looking person pulling a lever. Given the next shot, this might be the lever that starts the process to sever Lyra from Pan. 

Lyra screaming, stuck in what seems to be a very small box. Could this be the intercision machine? Most likely. 

A shot from above, with people waving - specially a lot of children. I think this could be Lyra & co. leaving after Bolvangar. Seems a bit less chaotic than the fight in that case, but it could be that they’re leaving after the fight. Unsure if that’s Farder Coram and John Faa at the bottom, but it very well could be! That could very well be Lucien Msamati and James Cosmo. 

Lyra in her North outfit that we’ve seen previously (with the red hat). Unsure if these are the Tartar guards of Bolvangar, or the hunters that take her there in the first place. Either way the surrounding doesn’t quite seem to fit either situation (though I definitely think it’s Bolvangar). 

Lyra looking terrified, in more clinical clothing, in front of some kind of machinery. Someone is standing behind her as well. Probably by the time she’s captured and being taken to the intercision machine. 

Once we go North, Mrs. Coulter seemingly seems to wear red. This looks like the same thing she’s wearing under her jacket up above. It’s also a strange angle, her reaching out for something, first person POV. It’s definitely in Bolvangar, given the building she’s in. Could she be reaching out for Lyra (having her moment when she saves her?) or is she reaching out for the box she thinks contains the alethiometer. She looks very entranced by whatever she’s after. 

Finally, the last shot after the title reveal.

Lyra closing the box with the alethiometer. And yes, it’s square! Ish! Well, it’s round, but it’s in a box that is square. Looking a lot more like how a compass actually looks honestly even though the alethiometer was never meant to be the compass in the title but that’s another tangent. 

So, that’s that! Any thoughts? Do you disagree or agree with any of my interpretations? Any thoughts you all have of the parts that left me confused? 

[rendezvousroger]

After The Afterparty (Ben Hardy x Reader)

Summary: Y/N is a famous actress who is best friends with the BoRhap cast. After the afterparty of the Golden Globes, the BoRhap cast and Y/N head over to their hotel rooms to continue the party where a drunk Y/N and a drunk Ben have some confessions to make. 

A/N: I’m soooo excited for this!!! I enjoyed writing this so much because this is exactly what I’ve always dreamed of. I also love writing about Ben Hardy and the rest of the BoRhap cast since I have so much love for them. 

Music, drinks, laughing, dancing, glam and Ben Hardy. 

You were having a night. 

It was the afterparty for the Golden Globes Awards and you were there to celebrate the win of your dear friend Rami Malek and your win for “Best Performance by an Actress in a Supporting Role in any Motion Picture”.

You’re a recognized, young actress and you met Rami a few years ago while filming a movie. You two instantly became very close friends and when he told you he was playing Freddie Mercury for the Bohemian Rhapsody movie, you were extremely excited and happy for him. It was a well deserved role. 

Rami constantly invited you to hang out with the rest of the BoRhap cast and you gladly accepted every time since you had just got done filming a movie, meaning you had free time before the release, interviews and press conferences started. 

The first times you hung out with the cast, they showered you with questions about your movies and acting since they loved your work and as stated before, you’re a very recognized actress. You gladly gave them your best acting tips and even helped them practice their scripts. You soon became good friends with all of them.

Joe never failed to make you laugh, Gwilym constantly wanted to know more about your previous works, Rami was always the same Rami you knew from years ago, Lucy became one of your best friends and Ben.. well, everyone could pretty much tell and see there was something going on between the two of you, but neither of you ever admitted it. 

When Ben and you first met, he was pretty nervous. He constantly told you about how he loved every movie you’ve been in and how he admires you as an actress. You couldn’t help but think it was cute how he acted around you. 

It wasn’t until a few weeks after meeting for the first time, that Ben started to see you more as a close friend than just a famous actress. And Joe swore Ben didn’t see you just as a close friend, but instead as someone he had feelings for. Whenever Joe reminded you that, you just rolled your eyes and laughed, but you knew deep down you also had feelings for Ben. 

“How’s my golden actress?” 

Rami asked as he wrapped you into his arms for the millionth time that night. He was holding a champagne glass and giving you the widest smile you’ve ever seen. 

“As happy as my golden actor should be.” You smiled at him and clinked your own champagne glass with his. 

“This is our night,” he started, his Freddie side coming out as he pointed at everyone, “we need another round!” 

“More champagne?” Gwilym asked, looking at his empty glass of champagne and rubbing his eyes. 

“Yes! More!” Rami exclaimed dramatically and let go of you to grab Lucy’s arm and take her for more champagne. 

Everyone was drunk already, Joe and Ben were dancing like fools all over the room and you were sitting down next to Gwilym trying your best to not laugh at how drunk he was.

“I see you wanting to laugh at me.” He said and poked your nose.

“You’re just so silly when you’re drunk,” you laughed, “you can barely keep your eyes open!”

Gwil was about to say something in his defense but Joe sat down between the two of you, making Ben sit down to your left.

“What are you two doing sitting down?” Joe looked at you and then at Gwilym.

“Processing.” Gwil said.

“There’s nothing to process!” Joe stood up and held his arm out for Gwilym, “Let’s go do the bab dance!”

You laughed as you saw Joe’s poor attempt to pull Gwilym up from the sofa, and after what seemed like a few minutes of convincing Gwil, they finally left to dance and get more drinks, so you were left alone with a tipsy and happy Ben Hardy.

You smiled at him and rested your head on his shoulder.

 “What a night.” You whispered and he gently grabbed your hand.

“I know.” He said as he played with the rings on your fingers. 

You closed your eyes for a second, taking in the eventful night you were having and feeling grateful for your award and your amazing friends. You were feeling so peaceful and happy as you were resting your head on Ben’s shoulder, taking in his scent and feeling him breathe while the music of the afterparty played in the background.

“Y/N?” Ben whispered, making you open your eyes.

“Yeah?”

“You look gorgeous tonight.” He said and you giggled.

It was probably the hundredth time Ben had complimented you on the way you looked tonight, each time making your heart flutter. 

“Thank you,” you sat straight and looked at him, “you look very good too.”

He smiled and looked at the floor and you playfully poked his cheek.

“Hey lovebirds,” Lucy’s voice snapped you out of the little moment you were sharing with Ben, “time to follow the party at the hotel!”

You checked your phone to see the time and were surprised when you saw it was almost 3AM already. The cast had decided to follow the afterparty at the hotel they were all staying in and of course you were invited.

You said your goodbyes to the few famous celebrities who were still at the afterparty and made your way to the limo with the rest of the cast. 

Once you arrived to the hotel, all of you tried to decide on whose hotel room you were going to continue the party.

“Let’s just go to my room,” Rami said, making his way to the elevators, “less thinking and more drinking darlings!”

You followed Rami to his suite and Joe was quick to play the music, you watched Rami pour tequila shots for everyone and Gwilym trying his best to keep his eyes open. 

“Here you go lovebirds.” Lucy winked at you and Ben as she handed you both tequila shots.

“They’re never going to let that die.” You said to Ben.

“Nope, never.” He smiled and wrapped his arm around you.

“Let’s do it all at the same time!” Joe exclaimed and held his tequila shot up.

“At the count of three!” Ben joined him.

Everyone held up their tequila shots and started the countdown. Once all of you drank your shots, you joined Joe and Gwilym with their bab dance and even Ben joined.

You couldn’t stop laughing at Ben’s horrible attempt at dancing with Joe and Gwil.

“Stop it!” He demanded with a smile on his face.

“Keep trying!” You said between laughs, “I believe in you.”

Ben rolled your eyes at you and your smile began to fade as you watched him run to you and grab you by the waist. You felt him start to tickle you on your sides, making you scream and laugh at the same time.

“Stop Benjamin!” 

“This is for you laughing at my dancing.” He said and kept tickling you, making the both of you fall down to the floor.

Ben wouldn’t stop tickling you and there you were on the floor, a laughing mess, still wearing your dress, and Ben still wearing his suit.

“Please!” You begged and he stopped, his arms still wrapped around you. You two just stayed there staring at each other with the biggest smile on your faces. 

You being drunk made you even more emotional, but as you were staring into his beautiful, green eyes you couldn’t help but feel more in love with him, and you knew you were still going to feel the same way the next day being hungover and the day after, when you’ll be completely sober. Your feelings for him weren’t going to change. 

He was beautiful inside and out, and he was exactly the kind of man you wanted to be with. 

“Come on.” Ben smiled as he stood up and helped you stand on your feet.

“BEN!” Joe screamed, “Come give me some love!”

“I’m on my way sweetie!” Ben screamed back at him, making you giggle.

Joe and Ben’s relationship never failed to make you realize why you loved being friends with them so much.

You went to the balcony to get some fresh air and saw Lucy standing by herself looking at the night sky. 

“Hey there.” You said and walked towards her.

“Hey.” She smiled.

“I thought you were with Rami.” You winked, hoping she would catch what you meant.

“Oh I was,” she winked back at you, “he is just taking a nap right now.”

“A nap? At 4AM?” You asked.

“He said the party’s not over yet, so he will rest a little for now.” She laughed and you did too.

“Of course.”

“So,” Lucy looked up at the sky.

“So…” 

“Ben?” She smiled and awkwardly winked at you.

“He’s inside.” 

“Y/N!” She nagged.

“What?”

“You know what I’m talking about.” She looked straight into your eyes.

You sighed and closed your eyes, thinking carefully about what you were going to say.

“Is it obvious?” You bit your lip.

“That the two of you are crazy for each other?” She said with a wide smile on her face, “Very, obvious.”

“I don’t know..”

“Don’t know what?”

“Maybe it’s all in my head,” you looked down, “maybe I’m the only one who feels something.”

“I hope you’re joking.” Lucy turned you around to face her, “Look at me.”

You looked at her. Her eyes were red and you smiled at her messy hair and smudged lipstick. What a way to celebrate Rami’s win. 

“He loves you, he wants you and he thinks you’re out of his league.” She said.

“Why would he think that?”

“Because you a-“

The door opened, not letting Lucy finish what she was saying. 

“Ready for round two!” A very happy Rami stood by the door, with Ben by his side.

“Well,” Lucy went back to you, “see you later.”

She followed Rami and they both went inside. Ben closed the door and made his way towards you.

“Where’s your lover?” You asked Ben.

“In bed,” he said, “next to Gwilym.”

“And how do you feel about that?” You acted surprised and Ben joined your little acting scene.

“Heartbroken.” He fake sobbed.

“It’s okay, I’ll keep you company.” You smiled and once again, rested your head on his shoulder.

“You’re more than enough.” He said, making you smile and snuggle closer to him.

He softly played with your not so curled hair anymore and you thought about how Lucy told you he felt you were out of his league. You didn’t want Ben to think of you as that.

“Ben,” you whispered, “I’m so happy I met you.”

“I’m happy I met you too, Y/N.”

“I mean it Ben.” Your tone was serious, and you turned to face him.

He stared at you, a little shocked by your straight face and the way your eyes were staring deeply at his. 

You could feel the tension between the two of you. His eyes were telling you his love for you and you were hoping yours told him the same thing. And you wanted to tell him, but you couldn’t find the words. 

You stared at his lips and tried your best to hold yourself from kissing them, they looked so soft, so pink and so kissable.

“Y/N, I want you to know that I-“

You cut him off by pressing your lips to his. It took him a few seconds to kiss you back, but he did. You pulled away to look at him, hoping you’d made yourself clear. 

He was looking at you in a different way now, you could see lust in his eyes, and he could see the same in yours. 

You stared at each other, not saying a word but somehow knowing exactly what the other wanted to say and then connected your lips again, this time the kiss was longer, more passionate.

Ben pulled you closer as he placed his hands on the small of your back, pressing his lips against yours and making you wrap your arms around his neck. There was an urgency in your kiss, you both had been wanting this for a long time. You craved this. You craved each other. 

“I want to be with you.” You mumble against his lips and feel him smile, he gently bites the bottom of your lip, making you kiss him harder. 

Once you pull away you stare at his green eyes and he softly strokes your cheek, his gaze making you feel like the most beautiful person in the world.

“I want to be with you too.” He whispers and gives you a quick peck on the lips.

You lean in closer to him so you could kiss him again but the sound of applause made you both jump.

You both looked over and you instantly felt your cheeks heat up as you saw Lucy and Rami standing by the door, clapping and smiling.

“It was about time!” Rami shook his head in amazement.

“This is beautiful!” Lucy said and pretended to wipe away tears from her eyes.

“We need to wake up Joe and Gwil,” Rami told Lucy and her smile grew wider, “this is better than winning a Golden Globe!”

Rami and Lucy cheered and went back inside. You turned to face Ben and saw him already looking at you with loving eyes and a smile on his face.

“Now they really are never going to let this die.” You said and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“I know,” Ben smiled, “it was about time though.”

“It sure was.” You smiled back.

Ben pressed your lips against yours once again, softly kissing you, not wanting this moment to end.

“BEN AND Y/N?!” 

You heard Joe’s scream from inside followed by Lucy, Gwilym and Rami’s cheers.

You and Ben smiled against each other’s lips without pulling away from the kiss.

Things were just getting started.

[accio-spaceman]

VORTEX Magazine - Issue 122

(April 2019)

Download PDF version for FREE on the Big Finish website

Partners In Time

At last! The Doctor and Donna are back!

[Above Cover for “The Tenth Doctor Adventures Volume Three”, featuring (l-r, top-bottom) Catherine Tate, David Tennant, Jacqueline King, Bernard Cribbins, and two Judoon.]

The Doctor and Donna Noble are arguably one of the most popular Doctor and companion pairings ever, and their adventures in space and time continue in The Tenth Doctor Adventures Volume Three. David Tennant and Catherine Tate reprise their TV roles for a second run of audio adventures from Big Finish.

(Full Article Under Cut)

Producer David Richardson says: “I actually got very nervous in the weeks before recording, as I did on their previous box set. You are just so aware that you are going to be working with two of the biggest stars in this country, and you want them to have a brilliant time and for the whole thing to run smoothly.

“The night before recording I just told myself, forget the nerves, treat it like any other production and it will be great. And actually by the time David and Catherine arrived at Moat Studios, the nerves had totally evaporated.

“David and Catherine don’t behave like stars – they walked in as two normal people who get on with everyone. When you’re sitting having a cup of tea with David Tennant talking about The Avengers or whatever, you’re really just chatting to a lovely human being.”

It was director Ken Bentley’s first time directing David and Catherine, and before recording began he admitted to Vortex: “I’ve not had much time to think about it as we’ve been extremely busy through August and September. I only just managed to squeeze in the time to schedule it!

[Above (l-r) David Tennant and Catherine Tate]

“I’m like any fan, dying to hear what the Nobles, Wilf and The Doctor get up to. What a dream cast!” 

– Russell T Davies

“I always get excited about working on a new range. The bit I love the most about directing is working with actors, and to work with actors new to me is always something I look forward to.

“In my line of work it’s the rehearsal room and the recording studio where the magic happens, and it’s always a treat to watch professionals bringing roles to life.

“All actors work and respond differently. Part of my job is to quickly figure out how an actor likes to work so I can help make the recording go as smoothly as possible for them – and for everybody else. It’s a challenge I enjoy and I like to get it right. So it’s exciting for me to work with an entirely new team and to figure out what makes them tick.”

[Above Cover for “No Place” by James Goss, featuring (l-r) Bernard Cribbins, Catherine Tate, David Tennant, and Jacqueline King.]

The first story in the set is No Place by James Goss. Script editor Matt Fitton says: “We knew straightaway we could bring the wider Noble family into it by having Donna and Sylvia together, so we gave James that brief. It meant it had to be set on Donna’s contemporary Earth, since her mum isn’t aware of her space and time travel yet.”

Former Doctor Who showrunner Russell T Davies, creator of Donna, Sylvia and Wilf, tells Vortex: “I’m so excited about the return of the Noble family. I put in a request to Big Finish never thinking they’d actually pull it off. But, I might have known, they’re unstoppable! Marvellously, I haven’t heard the adventure myself yet, so I’m like any fan, dying to hear what the Nobles, Wilf and the Doctor get up to. What a dream cast!”

Jacqueline King was delighted to be back as Sylvia.

She says: “Since we finished on TV I’ve seen David a couple of times, and I keep in touch with Bernard because he’s so gorgeous! He and I did the quiz show Pointless. And Catherine was in a play which Bernard and I went to see together, so that was lovely. We’ve just not been all together so there was so much to catch up on. I felt desperately maternal towards Catherine, wanting to know how she was!

“I was very jealous that David and Catherine were going on to do more stories over the next couple of days without Bernard and myself. Bernard and I were joking, asking, How can you do that? That’s just disloyal!

“It was lovely, and if we could have carried on I would have but it was just one day. It would be heaven if we could do more!”

Matt continues: “James came back with this ‘haunted makeovers’ idea which was great, and as it was being developed we asked James to keep in mind a role for Wilf in case we were able to get Bernard Cribbins – perhaps just a cameo role. As it turned out we learned fairly early on that we could have Bernard for the whole day, so it all worked out perfectly and Wilf was fully included in the episode at the storyline stage.”

In a similar vein to what the TV show did at the time, No Place taps into the zeitgeist of what is currently popular on TV, which in this case brings in the feed of ghost and home makeover reality TV shows.

“If you’re a fan of either Buzzfeed Unsolved or Homes Under The Hammer you’ll find lots to love in this.” 

– James Goss

James explains: “Honestly, when you think about it most horror films are home makeover shows! Family moves into house on haunted graveyard. Tries to do it up. Ends up running away screaming/being dead/finds out they were always dead so probably shouldn’t have bothered wallpapering the downstairs bathroom. This was inspired by that. Imagining a horror film but with Kirsty Allsop following our screaming family about. And making the screaming family the Doctor, Donna, Sylvia and Wilf.

“If you’re a fan of either Buzzfeed Unsolved or Homes Under the Hammer you’ll find lots to love in this. We’ve got a ghostbox, we’ve got replacement light fittings, we’ve mysterious voices, we’ve endless discussions about plumbing. The one thing we couldn’t do was Hammer’s endless, appalling punning music track. (Presenter: ‘They really do love this hopeless place.’ Music: ‘We Found Love in a Hopeless Place’)!”

Producer David Richardson adds: “I’m struck by how creepy it all sounds. Some of the sequences in the old house are really unsettling even without any effects or music, which is a sure sign of how great the writing, performances and direction are.”

[Above Cover for “One Mile Down” by Jenny T Colgan, featuring (l-r) David Tennant, a Judoon, and Catherine Tate.]

One Mile Down by Jenny T Colgan continues the Doctor and Donna’s adventures when they find themselves in an underwater city and encounter the Judoon.

Matt continues: “In terms of using new series monsters, the Judoon are one of the most recognisable and the Tenth Doctor has some history with them, meeting them several times during his era.

“Because of what’s been established on screen there are certain monsters he’s meeting for the first time, but with the Judoon he knows what they’re about and how they work. They are not power-crazed evil monsters, they are mercenaries working for other people, and their agenda isn’t always immediately clear. It’s nice to have that bit of potential uncertainty – are they an ally? Are they a threat? We get to play with that in this story.”

“We have individuals in the Judoon ranks which we’ve touched on before. There’s the trainee, Klo, who starts to side with the Doctor and Donna, realising they can do some good during the story, which is a fun thing to play with.” The story’s setting lends itself to a good soundscape, with a city beneath the waves.

Matt explains: “In the TV episode Smith and Jones, the first thing we see the Judoon do is control the rain and send it upwards with their H2O scoop.

“That means we can make use of their technology which lends itself perfectly to an audio story.”

Of course, Donna has also encountered the Judoon on TV, and Matt adds: “Watching Donna in The Stolen Earth, we get a reaction from her to the Judoon, but when we checked with Russell he watched it back and felt there was no reason why Donna couldn’t have met them before.

“What’s clearly a surprise to her is the Doctor speaking Judoon, so we were very careful not to have him doing that in front of her.”

[Above Cover for “The Creeping Death” by Roy Gill, featuring (l-r) David Tennant, Catherine Tate, and Lauren Cornelius dressed in 1952 London period-costume, holding a torch.]

Concluding this series is The Creeping Death by Roy Gill.

David explains: “We asked the writers for short pitches – I think they might have sent in three ideas each. I’ve actually been keeping a list of things I want to see in a Doctor Who story, one of which was ‘The London Fog of 1952’, so it was a no-brainer when Roy pitched that one!”

Roy was delighted to be able to write for David Tennant, a fellow Scotsman, as well as Donna.

He admits it was: “Hugely exciting. They’re one of my Doctor Who dream teams, really. The Doctor and Donna are best friends, they’re fast and funny, they wind each other up but most importantly they make each other stronger and better. Their dialogue was a joy to write – and yes please, if the opportunity ever comes up, I absolutely want to do more!”

Roy travelled from his Edinburgh home to attend the recording at Moat Studios in London, and has plenty of happy memories from the sessions.

Roy adds: “Oh, loads! David asking, ‘Is that a Scottish accent?’ as soon as he met me – and then me kind of over-explaining where I’m from (sorry, David...). Catherine cracking up over her lines about ‘bad air’ and cheese and onion crisps… How quickly all the big, exciting scenes flew by in the recording booths.

“Stephen Critchlow talking over lunch about the classic Who he’d been watching with his daughter. Lauren Cornelius telling me she’d loved her character and the story so much that when she got the script she read it from cover to cover then immediately turned it over and read it again! Theo Stevenson saying he’d watched David Tennant’s Doctor when he was about 10 or 12. He was thrilled to be in a Doctor Who – making us all feel ancient!”

Producer David adds: “This story is brilliant! Just a character piece about a group of people lost in the fog and there’s something really nasty out there… David has some terrific speeches, Catherine gets to play out some lovely relationships with the guest characters, and the whole thing feels like it was on TV back in 2008.”

Director Ken Bentley was relieved when recording was complete after three successive days in studio – which Big Finish rarely do.

He explains: “It’s great to know we have a complete box set in the bag! These days availabilities are such that we’re squeezing in recordings as and when we can, sometimes over quite long periods of time. It’s rare to record three days straight and know you’ve got it all, but given the schedule we’re all on it’s a huge relief!”

“The whole thing feels like it was on TV back in 2008.” 

– David Richardson

Responsible for music and sound design is Howard Carter, who says: “I’ll usually go through and work out if there are any background or atmosphere tracks that reappear throughout the play, or any individual recurring effects (specific vehicles or weapons, for example). If so I will create these in advance and add them to the project library so they are ready to drag and drop in when I’m working. I’ll record the foley sound as I go and layer up all the relevant backgrounds and effects scene by scene. Once the full play is assembled I’ll send a draft off to the director and move on to the score.

“I will usually spend a couple of days scoring a play although if there’s more time I will always spend longer (I’m a composer by trade!). At this point I know the play well so will have a sense of the mood, style and pacing.

“If I’m working on a completely new play I’ll create a template and start adding instruments and sounds as I see fit in order to start with a completely fresh palette. Every play is different so I don’t have one fixed approach. There are scene breaks which usually need a cue, and there are sometimes musical directions in the script, but otherwise a lot of the process is instinctive. A play may need a lot of music to keep energy levels up and maintain a sense of pace, or it may need the music to really take a background role and just glue certain elements together. Each one is unique.”

– VORTEX Magazine, Issue 122, Pages 4-8

THE TENTH DOCTOR ADVENTURES VOLUME THREE IS OUT IN MAY ON CD AND DOWNLOAD.

The Tenth Doctor Adventures Volume Three is out in May on CD and Download.

The special edition release comes complete with exclusive production notes, storyboards from Mike Tucker and costume designs from June Hudson.

For full details visit www.bigfinish.com .

(Edited to include Lauren Cornelius’ name in the image description of “The Creeping Death” cover.)

[cookiedoughmeagain]

Haven DVD Commentaries: 4.08 - William

Commentary with Shernold Edwards and Speed Weed

They start by answering a question received via Twitter: “If Audrey wasn’t interrupted by Heavy and Crush, was she really going to shoot Nathan? Was she able to do it?” And they are both very clear the answer to this is; “Yes, absolutely.” Referring to the revelation at the end of the episode that all of the Trouble-related craziness that happens in this episode is because of William, Shernold points out that William sending Heavy to interrupt Audrey and Nathan at that point was really bad timing on his part, because if he had just left them alone for things to pan out, then all of his [William’s] problems would have been solved.

They’ve been joined for this commentary by Loretta, Shernold’s dog who Speed says has “become a fixture” in the writers’ room this season.

Shernold says a common question is “How did you come up with the idea for the episode and/or the Trouble?” and that this episode started kind of selfishly for her in that she a) likes to not shoot in the woords (because there are ticks!), and b) “I love the cast and all of the relationships that the writing staff has built over the last three and a half seasons.” - all the developing relationships and the secrets. “We have such a wealth of great actors that I just wanted to throw them together and shake it up” and see what could come out. And she adds that she likes to do Troubles that affect people’s mental/emotional states, or their perception, “mostly because while Production can do amazing things, I also know I can get a bit more of what I want when I don’t have a lot of special effects.”

Speed talks about the guy playing ‘The Sinister Man’ [the shorter of the two of William’s guys from the Barn] as a jack of all trades who works on the show as an electrician setting up the lighting, “and he stepped into this role and just really knocked it out of the park. He is - in the best of ways - really creepy. And I had not met him, and I had seen the dailies” for an earlier episode “and he creeped me out in those dailies. And then I was getting a doughnut and he was an electrician that day and he came up on the other side of the table to get a doughnut and I jumped back, I was scared of him! I was not expecting to see him.”

They comment on Sinister reading Aristotle’s Rhetoric and Shernold says how great their crew is that when she was writing the script she had this idea that he should be “reading something ancient and political and whatnot … and then I get on set and he is actually reading that book. And that was one of those moments where I realised; Of course - if you write something down, it’s gonna happen. It’s someone’s job to look at what you wrote down and go get that thing, find that thing, or make that thing… and I’m always so impressed with production teams and what they manage to do.”

In terms of the episode plot, Shernold comments that she liked the idea of everyone being suspicious and having secrets. “It’s funny that I’m a TV writer because when I’m watching shows I’m the kind of person” who’s wondering why the characters don’t just tell each other the truth and then everything would be sorted out. “And everything would be two scenes long; there would be no television shows.” But even so she is always watching things wanting characters to just tell each other what’s going on, ask each other the right questions etc. “So I kind of wanted to do an episode where I got to have a bit of fun with that.” And she also talks about having fun playing with William as appearing to be this vulnerable guy who doesn’t remember anything but then at the end we learn he’s been manipulating everyone all along.

Shernold says that Brian Millikin reminded her that Adam Copeland referred to this as one of his favourite episodes to do because he got to push his range further than he had before. Speed talks about how Adam started in this small part of the cleaner, this back-seat role and how “in this season we’ve really pulled him into the front seat. And in this episode we really pushed him to show what he can do emotionally. And because of that and because we saw what he can do, we have pushed him in season five in every direction we want to. We believe in this room there is nothing he can’t do and every single day the dailies come back and prove us right.” And Shernold agrees; “We’re throwing everything at him.”

They take another question from their Twitter selection; “Please comment on how the script may have morphed due to production requirements and what you may have fought to keep in the script.” Speed talks about how there’s always a back and forth with this on any show but that it can be particularly an issue with Haven because they shoot an epsiode in 7 days where most shows usually take 8 days. He describes television as “guerrilla filming; very fast and very practical. We write fast and we shoot fast.” A typical feature production will shoot two pages of script a day, a lot of shows shoot 7 pages a day, on this show they shoot up to 9 a day. Shernold adds that the effects for the episode worked out really well, but were also practical to film - e.g. where a paranoid Dwight sees Duke taunting him with a knife through the window, that was really simple to film, and so a cost-effective way to add something creepy to that scene.

They also talk about production issues in relation to episode 4.12 - they were going to shoot a lot of it at the Gull, but Hurricane Gabrielle was rolling in and so it was practical for them to be right on the coast like that. So they ended up having to build the safe house for the episode.  It was late in the season so they had already starting pulling down sets, so they built the safe house for the episode in the same spot where the set for Audrey’s apartment had been ie they re-dressed the apartment set to look like somewhere else. And they did it in a day.

Shernold talks about the scene where we Nathan get Troubled and how it was cool to see Lucas play that moment where “he gets infected and affected” and how it was fun to write too becuase it was “poking at something that would absolutely make that character jealous… I had a lot of fun writing Jennifer’s jealousy scene too becuase, again, it comes from natural emotion” and Jennifer “has no filter right now.” And she says it was also really fun for her that Duke was a straight man for all of this; everyone else was freaking out but Duke never got affected, and she liked how that worked out.

Shernold re-iterates that everything is set in the police station so that she didn’t have to go out into the woods and deal with the ticks when she was up there for filiming, and Speed says that he must have been a bear in a previous life because he loved getting to go out in the woods when he was up there for his first episode with the Douens (for which he credits Shernold for coming up with the idea, or telling him about the Trinidadian myth they’re based on) and would much rather be outside all day.

They both comment on the coolness of Gloria. And the niceness of Colin Ferguson.

Shernold talks about how it’s fun to be on set and get a good look at the props and how invariably someone from the art department will come up “and ask ‘Is this what you were thinking?’ and it’s like, ‘No but it’s fantastic because it’s better.’”

They pick another Twitter question; “Is Julia Carr a Teagues, becuase her tattoo fades in and out?” And Speed says it’s a very astute question but he can’t really answer it “because we are still honestly discussing whether we’re going to answer it or not” in the show.

Another Twitter question; “Are you all still sticking to the original arcs while adding side arcs to stretch the series with the same ending in mind?” And the short answer, Speed says, is “Yes.” Long answer is, “Man, was there ever a more complicated show than this?” We have conversation where we have to remind ourselves what we’ve done in those side arcs because “we have a very florid and rich mythology, with truly ornate and complicated” set of rules.

Shernold comments on the extent of Speed’s vocabulary (he was once an English teacher) and says that she learns a new word every day but she is always highly amused when he uses the word fingered [to the extent she makes herself laugh saying it] and he defends himself that “it’s an old procedural word. We used it all the time when we were writing Law and Order Special Victim Unit, that the cops fingered somebody.”

Another question; “How do you keep track of the bits of information revealed in previous seasons and decide how much more to reveal in new epsiodes?” And between them they answer; “Four words; Brian Millikin and Nick Parker.” Speed adding, “They are the brain trusts of this organisation. And as I was just saying; it’s a very complicated mythology. And it’s not just what appears on screen; every script goes through five, six, seven drafts and so there are things in our brain trusts that never made it to film but which we think about. So we often have to ask Brian or Nick, and sometimes they have to actually go back and check what got shot. I’m not talking about the big things, I’m talking about nuancy little things - to keep track of it is extremely complicated and we’re very lucky to have such people on the show. I will say, this is my eighth television show and I have never seen a collective IQ as high as on this show. And I think it’s required, honestly, to keep track of everything.” Shernold adds, “This kind of story telling is not the easiest and as a fan of shows that have these long story arcs, everyone has a different opinion on what they want to know about.” And that will vary in the writers’ room as well in terms of what aspects of the plot people want to focus on and develop. “So you just have to try and keep all the balls in motion and address as much as you can” as you go along.

[Shernold interrupts herself to laugh as Duke get’s tasered] “I’m so amused because this whole episode is basically just - shit Shern would do.” Speed replies, “That’s why it’s great!”

Another question; “What input did the cast have to the episode? Was anything changed at their suggestion?” Speed talks about how they often do have suggestions and make changes because while the writers are “keepers of the characters” the actors are keepers of their characters too and they as writers are always very interested in knowing what the actors think about an episode, particularly in relation to the character they play. They struggle to think of a specific example for this episode but Shernold talks about how in 4.12 there’s a fight between William and Nathan and then William walks away whistling - the whistle wasn’t in the script, that was all just Colin on the day “turning that moment into something even better”. And she also remembers another scene where William is in the background of a scene on a tennis court and Colin added to that by picking up a racket, swinging it around and messing about.

When Sinister makes Audrey jump at the interview room window, Shernold talks about how she likes that moment because she wasn’t there when it was filmed and when she was first watching the dailies she’d basically forgotten she’d written it, to the extent that watching it for the first time really made her jump.

Speed takes a moment to shout out to Glen who plays Stan; “He’s part of the mortar that puts together the bricks of our show.”

As everything starts to come to a head in the police station, with Nathan and Dwight pointing guns at each other and Audrey trying to calm everyone down, Shernold talks about how she likes this scene and also how it’s a trade off for production because a lot of this episode may have been simple to film but at some point everyone has to get together and “the poo-poo has to hit the ceiling”. And scenes like this with multiple people speaking are really complicated to plan and time consuming to film because you need to get all the different angles to show the close-ups on all the different speakers so that it flows and is easy to understand when you watch it. Speed gives credit to the director for the work in getting the filming of the scene to work, because not only do you have multiple people you need to focus in on, but you’ve got people standing sitting and on the floor as well so it’s this three dimensional problem to plan it all out. Shernold likes Jennifer’s line to Audrey here about ‘How many men do you need?’ and is also still enjoying Duke being the one with the cool head.

Shernold is Canadian and says that “I get a lot of flack in the room for how I say ‘Dwight’, apparently I say it ‘funny’. I don’t hear it. You guys can be the judge.” [I don’t hear the difference either but then maybe she says it the same way a British person would - she says Z at one point here and uses the British ‘zed’ so maybe :) ]

Up on the hill where William finds the box in a tree stump - that is not a real tree, that’s a something the props department made. The field is just around the corner from the stages but even so Shernold talks about how she outsmarted herself and wrote something that meant she had to come outside and “the mosquitoes got me.”

Speed notices that Emily is still wearing the nose ring and says that this was “a whole big thing” as to when she would take it off. Shernold points out that at this point Audrey is still pretending to most people to be Lexie so it’s still part of that.

Shernold comments on what a good job Colin does as William reveals himself as the bad guy behind the Troubles.

Speed talks about how in the writers’ room they refer to these big mythological reveals as ‘red meat’. “We hope our fans are like rabid dogs - we say that with awe and respect - gobbling up the mythological red meat.

Another Twitter question [though not directly relevant to this episode]; “Why is Mara so important that the whole of Haven is used in her punishment purgatory? Did she save Haven while she was in the Barn?” Speed responds; “It’s a good question and the short answer is; tune in to season five.” In season four we learn about Mara and how she and William created the Troubles; how that is related to Haven “comes out in bursts of red meat in season five.”

Shernold notices the growing patch of blood on Dwight’s chest and talks about how it’s someone’s job to track that through the scenes to make sure it’s at the right size at the right time; how “it’s someone’s job to track everything. And I admire that so much.”

Shernold comments on the title of the epsiode (William) and confesses to being “the worst title-maker-uper”. Speed agrees that “titles are hard” and adds that “TV is not really a medium that lends itself to titles.” Shernold talks about how the titles she comes up with don’t tend to make it past the first draft before Matt McGuinness or someone else steps in and changes it. Speed talks about how they went through a whole load of different titles for 4.12 and how his favourite (and Shernold agrees) is still; “Don’t Cry For Me Audrey Parker” to the tune of Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Don’t Cry For Me Argentina. But Matt McGuinness didn’t agree. It was Gabrielle Stanton who named this episode William.

Speed: “Speaking personally as a guy who wore a ponytail in college, I’m a big fan of Duke’s hair this season.” Shernold: “Me too.” Speed: “But I will say that for continuity that little thread that he has hanging down over his eye was very tricky to deal with. Shernold: “It was tricky. Because sometimes he would give a great performance, but the frickin piece of hair was not consistent with the earlier shot. Or in the middle of a performance a breeze would come by and move that piece of hair. That piece of hair was our biggest foe this season; forget William - that hair was the evilest thing.”

Another question asks about “the funny things going on between takes” and Speed says it’s a good question but the truth is there’s not much to tell. There is some preservation of energy because people are giving their all during the takes. Shernold agrees but adds “Lucas Bryant is a hell raiser. There was one scene at the Gull where he was dropping little bits of things on people and then inadvertently spilled a cup of something on Emily Rose.”

[starringemiliaclarke]

Emilia Clarke on Game of Thrones finale's shock twist: 'I stand by Daenerys'

Emilia Clarke read a paragraph in the final script for Game of Thrones.

She read it again and again. Seven times, she says, she read the words that revealed the devastating fate of Daenerys Targaryen, a character she’s portrayed on the HBO global phenomenon for nearly a decade.

“What, what, what, WHAT!?” the actress recalls thinking. “Because it comes out of f—king nowhere. I’m flabbergasted. Absolutely never saw that coming.”

It was October 2017. The actress had recently completed filming Solo: A Star Wars Story and had just returned to London following a brief vacation. She electronically received the scripts the moment she landed at Heathrow and recalls that she “completely flipped out,” turned to her traveling companion and said, “‘Oh my god! I gotta go! I gotta go!’ And they’re like, ‘You gotta get your bags!’”

Once at home, the actress prepared herself. “I got myself situated,” she says. “I got my cup of tea. I had to physically prepare the space and then begin reading them.”

Clarke swiped through pages: Daenerys arrives at Winterfell and Sansa doesn’t like her. She discovers Jon Snow is the true heir to the Iron Throne and isn’t thrilled. She fights in the battle against the Night King and survives, but loses longtime friend and protector Ser Jorah Mormont. Then her other close friend and advisor Missandei dies too. Varys betrays her. Jon Snow pulls away. Having lost half her army, two dragons, and nearly everybody she cares about, Daenerys goes full Tagaryen to win: She attacks King’s Landing and kills … thousands of civilians? Daenerys’ longtime conquest achieved, she meets with Jon Snow in the Red Keep throne room and … and then … then he …

“I cried,” Clarke says. “And I went for a walk. I walked out of the house and took my keys and phone and walked back with blisters on my feet. I didn’t come back for five hours. I’m like, ‘How am I going to do this?’”

Sitting next to Clarke on the flight, as it so happens, was Kit Harington, who plays Jon Snow. Harington deliberately hadn’t yet read the scripts so he could experience the story for the first time with all his castmates. Clarke, positively bursting with wanting to talk about her storyline, found the flight maddening. “This literally sums up Kit and I’s friendship,” she says, and sputtered: “Boy! Would you? Seriously? You’re just not?…”

At the table read, Clarke sat across from Harington so she could “watch him compute all of this.” When they got to their final scene together, recalls Harington, “I looked at Emilia and there was a moment of me realizing, ‘No, no…’”

And Clarke nodded back, sadly, ‘Yes…’

“He was crying,” Clarke says. “And then it was kind of great him not having read it.”

The main story driver of Game of Thrones’ final season is the evolution of Daenerys Targaryen from one of the show’s most-loved heroes into a destroyer of cities and would-be dictator. Author George R.R. Martin calls his saga “A Song of Ice and Fire.” Jon Snow is the stable, immovable ice of Winterfell; Daenerys the conquering, unpredictable fire of Dragonstone. After years apart, they came together in season 7. The duo fell in love, help saved the realm from a world-annihilating supernatural threat and, in the series finale, their coupling is destroyed — Daenerys perishes, while a devastated Jon Snow is banished to rejoin the Night’s Watch.

Was this ending Martin’s original plan? The author told showrunners David Benioff and Dan Weiss the intended conclusion to his unfinished novels years ago but, since then, the HBO version has made several narrative detours. The showrunners are not giving interviews about episode 6 (and told EW they plan to spend the finale offline — “drunk and far away from the Internet” as Benioff put it).

Regardless of the final season’s narrative’s origin, the Thrones writers have planned Dany’s fate for years and have foreshadowed the dark turn in the storyline. In previous seasons, producers would sometimes ask Clarke to play a scene a bit different than what she expected for a seemingly heroic character. “There’s a number of times I’ve been like: ‘Why are you giving me that note?’” Clarke says. “So yes, this has made me look back at all the notes I’ve ever had.”

After Episode 5, “The Bells,” the reaction to Dany’s “Mad Queen” turn has been explosive and frequently negative. Some critics insist Daenerys doesn’t have the capacity for such monumental evil and the twist is an example of female characters being mishandled on the series. Others say Dany’s unstable sociopathic tendencies were indeed established, but the final season moved too fast and flubbed its execution.

For Clarke, the final season arc required mapping out a series of turning points. Dany’s attack on King’s Landing might have seemed abrupt, but from the beginning of the season Daenerys has reacted with increasing anger, desperation and coldness to one setback after another, shifting the Mother of Dragons into new emotional territory that would ultimately lead to her destruction.

Sitting in her dressing room on the set of Thrones last spring, Clarke broke down Daenerys’ entire season 8 internal journey leading up to the apocalyptic King’s Landing firebombing in a single breathless monologue.

“She genuinely starts with the best intentions and truly hopes there isn’t going to be something scuttling her greatest plans,” she says. “The problem is [the Starks] don’t like her and she sees it. She goes, ‘Okay, one chance.’ She gives them that chance and it doesn’t work and she’s too far to turn around. She’s made her bed, she’s laying in it. It’s done. And that’s the thing. I don’t think she realizes until it happens — the real effect of their reactions on her is: ‘I don’t give a s—t.’ This is my whole existence. Since birth! She literally was brought into this world going, ‘Run!’ These f—kers have f—ked everything up, and now it’s, ‘You’re our only hope.’ There’s so much she’s taken on in her duty in life to rectify, so much she’s seen and witnessed and been through and lost and suffered and hurt. Suddenly these people are turning around and saying, ‘We don’t accept you.’ But she’s too far down the line. She’s killed so many people already. I can’t turn this ship around. It’s too much. One by one, you see all these strings being cut. And there’s just this last thread she’s holding onto: There’s this boy. And she thinks, ‘He loves me, and I think that’s enough.’ But is it enough? Is it? And it’s just that hope and wishing that finally there is someone who accepts her for everything she is and … he f—king doesn’t.”

And losing Missandei? “There’s a number of turning points you see for Daenerys in the season, but that’s the biggest break. There’s nothing I will not do after losing Missandei and seeing the sacrifice she was prepared to make for her. That breaks her completely. There’s nothing left to making a tough choice.”

Executing Varys for treason? “She f—king warned him last season. We love Varys. I love [actor Conleth Hill]. But he changes his colors as many times as he wants. She needs to know the people who are supporting her regardless. That was my only option, essentially, is what I mean.”

Burying Cersei Lannister under the collapse of the Red Keep? “With Cersei, it’s a complete no-brainer. Lady’s a crazy motherf—ker. She’s going down.”

Yet Clarke also had another, more personal reaction to Dany’s meltdown. “I have my own feelings [about the storyline] and it’s peppered with my feelings about myself,” she admits. “It’s gotten to that point now where you read [comments about] the character you [have to remind yourself], ‘They’re not talking about you, Emilia, they’re talking about the character.”

Like many actors who have played the same role for a long time, Clarke identifies with her character and has put much of herself into the role. She believes in Daenerys’ confidence, idealism and past acts of compassion. As the actress wrote in a New Yorkeressay in March, she played the Breaker of Chains through some life-threatening personal hardships, secretly enduring two brain aneurysms during her early years on the show. “You go on set and play a badass and you walk through fire and that became the thing that saved me from considering my own mortality,” she wrote. Clarke has drawn strength from Daenerys and infused Daenerys with her strength.

“I genuinely did this, and it’s embarrassing and I’m going to admit it to you,” Clarke says. “I called my mom and—“ Clarke shifts into a tearful voice to perform the conversation as she reenacts the call: “I read the scripts and I don’t want to tell you what happens but can you just talk me off this ledge? It really messed me up.’ And then I asked my mom and brother really weird questions. They were like: ‘What are you asking us this for? What do you mean do I think Daenerys is a good person? Why are you asking us that question? Why do you care what people think of Daenerys? Are you okay?’”

“And I’m all: ‘I’m fine! … But is there anything Daenerys could do that would make you hate her?’”

During EW’s visit to Northern Ireland last March, I took a walk with co-executive producer Bryan Cogman into the dark woods near the production camp. It was around midnight and bitterly cold. Our boots scrunched on the muddy gravel and the bustling sounds of crew activity from the set slowly receded into the distance.

“Emilia has been threading that needle beautifully this season,” Cogman says. “It’s the hardest job anybody has on this show.”

As we pass crew members our voices cautiously go silent. While Dany’s Mad Queen arc was known by all, her death in the finale was a secret even among many who work on the show. Killing Daenerys was a massive and difficult move. On a show that’s introduced dozens of distinctive breakout characters, Daenerys is arguably the most easily identifiable and iconic. She is T-shirts and coffee mugs and posters and bobbleheads and memes and the name of hundreds of kids around the world with GoTfan parents; a fearless figure of female empowerment.

“I still don’t know how I feel about a lot of what happens this season and I helped write it,” Cogman says. “It’s emotionally very challenging. It’s designed to not feel good. That said, I don’t think that’s a bad thing. The best drama is the type you have to think about. There’s a dangerous tendency right now to make art and popular culture to feel safe for everybody and make everybody feel okay when watching and I don’t believe in that. The show is messy and grey and that’s where it’s always lived — from Jaime pushing a little boy out the window to Ned Stark’s death to the Red Wedding. This is the kind of story that’s meant to unsettle you and challenge you and make you think and question. I think that was George’s intent and what David and Dan wanted to do. However you feel about the final episodes of this show I don’t think anybody will ever accuse us of taking the easy way out.”

I point out Daenerys’ final season arc shifts the entire series, or at least her role in it. Upon rewatch, every Daenerys scene will now be viewed differently; the story of the rise of a villain more than a hero.

“Yes, although I don’t know if she’s a villain,” Cogman says. “This is a tragedy. She’s a tragic figure in a very Shakespearean and Greek sense. When Jon asks Tyrion [in the finale] if they were wrong and Tyrion says, ‘Ask me again in 10 years,’ I think that’s valid.”

Tyrion actor Peter Dinklage says the showrunners on set compared Dany’s dragon-bombing of King’s Landing to the U.S. dropping nuclear bombs on the Japanese cities Hiroshima and Nagasaki to decisively end World War II in 1945. “That’s what war is,” Dinklage says. “Did we make the right choices in war? How much longer would [WWII] have gone on if we didn’t make horrible decisions? We love Daenerys. All the fans love Daenerys, and she’s doing these things for the greater good. ‘The greater good’ has been in the headlines lately… when freeing everyone for the greater good you’re going to hurt some innocents along the way, unfortunately.”

Gwendoline Christie, who plays Brienne of Tarth, adds there’s another political lesson to be learned in the final season as well. “The signs have actually always been there,” Christie says of Daenerys. “And they’ve been there in ways we felt at the time were just mistakes or controversial. At this time, it’s important to question true motives. This show has always been about power and, more than ever, it’s an interesting illustration that people in pursuit of power can come in many different forms and we need to question everything.” 

Killing Daenerys also forever changes Jon Snow, leading to his circular fate: returning to serve the rest of his life at The Wall. Harington spoke about the show’s finale in a production tent on the season 8 set, his voice so cautiously low a recorder could barely pick him up. Harington explained he avoids talking about the death scene on the set, and he and Clarke came up with a secret hand signal to refer to it — touching a fist to their heart.

“I think it’s going to divide,” Harington says of the finale’s fan reaction. “But if you track her story all the way back, she does some terrible things. She crucifies people. She burns people alive. This has been building. So, we have to say to the audience: ‘You’re in denial about this woman as well. You knew something was wrong. You’re culpable, you cheered her on.’”

Harington adds he worries the final two episodes will be accused of being sexist, an ongoing criticism of GoT that has recently resurfaced perhaps more pointedly than ever before. “One of my worries with this is we have Cersei and Dany, two leading women, who fall,” he says. “The justification is: Just because they’re women, why should they be the goodies? They’re the most interesting characters in the show. And that’s what Thrones has always done. You can’t just say the strong women are going to end up the good people. Dany is not a good person. It’s going to open up discussion but there’s nothing done in this show that isn’t truthful to the characters. And when have you ever seen a woman play a dictator?”

There’s plenty of tragedy for Jon as well, he points out. “This is the second woman he’s fallen in love with who dies in his arms and he cradles her in the same way,” Harington notes. “That’s an awful thing. In some ways, Jon did the same thing to [his Wildling lover] Ygritte by training the boy who kills her. This destroys Jon to do this.”

Back in Clarke’s dressing room, the actress is preparing to film one of her final scenes on the series. Understandably, she can’t quite bring herself to feel sorry for Jon Snow.

“Um, he just doesn’t like women does he?” Clarke quips. “He keeps f—king killing them. No. If I were to put myself in his shoes I’m not sure what else he could have done aside from … oh, I dunno, maybe having a discussion with me about it? Ask my opinion? Warn me? It’s like being in the middle of a phone call with your boyfriend and they just hang up and never call you again. ‘Oh, this great thing happened to me at work today —hello?’ And that was 9 years ago…”

Clarke’s phone call metaphor is characteristically witty, and the actress has given some fascinating insight about the season as a whole. But nothing yet quite feels like the bottom, the blunt truth of how she feels about Daenerys’ fate.

“You’re about to ask if me — as Emilia — disagreed with her at any point,” Clarke intuits. “It was a f—king struggle reading the scripts. What I was taught at drama school — and if you print this there will be drama school teachers going ‘that’s bulls—t,’ but here we go: I was told that your character is right. Your character makes a choice and you need to be right with that. An actor should never be afraid to look ugly. We have uglier sides to ourselves. And after 10 years of working on this show, it’s logical. Where else can she go? I tried to think what the ending will be. It’s not like she’s suddenly going to go, ‘Okay, I’m gonna put a kettle on and put cookies in the oven and we’ll just sit down and have a lovely time and pop a few kids out.’ That was never going to happen. She’s a Targaryen.”

“I thought she was going to die,” she continues. “I feel very taken care of as a character in that sense. It’s a very beautiful and touching ending. Hopefully, what you’ll see in that last moment as she’s dying is: There’s the vulnerability — there’s the little girl you met in season 1. See? She’s right there. And now, she’s not there anymore…”

A crew member comes for Clarke and she stands up. It’s time for her to go. Clarke begins to walk away, turns around, breaks away from the staffer, and comes back.

There’s one last thing she wants you to know.

“But having said all of the things I’ve just said…” Clarke says. “I stand by Daenerys. I stand by her! I can’t not.”

Source

Emilia Clarke on Game of Thrones finale’s shock twist: ‘I stand by Daenerys’ was originally published on Enchanting Emilia Clarke | Est 2012

[shirohcsbecausewhythehellnot]

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Prompt: HI! Can I get a Shiro x female reader please. The plot will be that they are both actors for Voltron and that they're secretly dating. The whole cast of Voltron went to a convention and a bunch of fans during that convention asked if Shiro is in a relationship. Of course, since both Shiro and his girlfriend keep it low key he didn't respond because his girlfriend inst there. But then he talked to her about it then they revealed it during the convention meet up. All the fans go wild (1) Hey Hey! Can I request a Shiro x Female reader. Both of them are visiting his mother. And Shiro knows about reader and Shiros love for each other (and their married) but both of them are they to tell her news. Me personally, I think Shiros mother was a single mom so it can be like that in the story. So Shiro and reader during the day take his mother out where ever she wants to go. But after lunch, Shiro and reader reveal that reader is pregnant. Shiros mom gets emotional and happy for them. (2) So its about Shiro x Fem reader actor AU and how both of them are a couple and his mother approves of reader. In my opinion I think Shiro's mom was a single mom so can that be included in the story? Anyways since Shiro and reader are back from acting scene for Voltron, Shiro wanted to visit his mother in Japan and he wants to surprise her with something. Of course his mother is exited to see her son and her daughter in law so she clears her schedule to see them. The first week shiro,reader and his mother go out eating and do what ever she wants, becuase shiro and reader respect her and love her. After the first week, Shiro goes out with his mom and tells her that reader is pregnant. His mother is in shock and starts crying joyish tears. Once they get  back home she hugs reader and tell her she happy for them. You can change the ending or whatever but It needs to be cute! THANK YOU (3)

Okay so this was a long-ass prompt and it was requested to me literally months ago. Not even kidding. ANON I’M SORRY! So I think that the person who requested me this was the same who DM’d me to add more detail (The last prompt) and so I just added the two together. If not, I’m sorry whoops. I guess you can request again once I open them. Also, this isn’t the first AU that I was requested but it was the first one I completed WOOT WOOT! *gives self lame high-five* Anyway, enjoy!

Fandom: Voltron Legendary Defender

Pairing: Shiro x Fem!Reader

Genre: Actor!AU, Fluff?, Slice of Life

Word Count: 9,642

Warnings: I’ve decided to remove swearing as an official warning so no

  “And… cut! That’s a wrap, guys! Great job!”

You heard applause from the staff as you and the rest of the group walked off the set. You had just finished filming the pilot season of Voltron: Legendary Defender that will air on Netflix not long from now. Being advertised on such a huge platform was going to give you a lot of street cred. This was going to be your first big break.

  “This is going to be a hit, guys! I just know it!” The director enthusiastically walked up to all of you with a beaming smile on her face. You returned her smile before taking a sip from your water bottle. You noticed your boyfriend, Shiro, walk up to you. You smiled at him as well.

  You two had met before briefly during auditions for previous roles but the relationship never went further than that. He was just the “hot dude in auditions” amongst you and your friends. That is until you were both cast for this show. You played as the stowaway engineer while he played as one of the Paladins. You were also each other’s romantic interests. Although, it was only hinted in the first season. And it wasn’t even intentional. Your chemistry was just so great on-screen that everyone agreed it would be a good idea to add a bit of romance to the, otherwise, action-based show. However, what the crew didn’t know, except for the cast who had their suspicions, was that the on-screen chemistry was a direct result of your off-screen chemistry after months of quick glances, flirting, and blushing. Neither of you was entirely sure how it started, you were just glad that it did. You two were just rehearsing a newly added scene between your characters in Shiro’s apartment which then lead to the day ending with the two of you naked and in his bed. You grinned slightly at the memory before locking your gaze with Shiro’s.

  “Hey, you.” He said fondly. He had already removed his scar makeup and fake prosthetic, although his white patch of hair was still there.

  “Hey.” You replied. You looked at your surroundings to see if anyone was watching before you reached up and planted a quick kiss on his lips. He looked at you amusedly before he grabbed your hand and sneakily brought you two behind the Black Lion prop that hid you from the eyes of others and kissed your lips deeply. You sighed softly as you wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him closer to you. You slowly parted from each other with a small smile and stared lovingly at each other.

  “So I was thinking…” He trailed off with a grin.

  “Yes?” You inquired.

  “Well, we’ve been dating for a little over a year now…”

  “Uh-huh.” You urged him to continue.

  “And we’re going to be so busy once the pilot airs…” He said dramatically. You rolled your eyes.

  “Get on with it already, Shirogane!” You said teasingly. He let out a quiet chuckle.

  “I was thinking, while we’re free before the pilot airs if maybe we could go visit my mom? She’s been dying to meet you.” Your mind went blank for a split-second before it flooded with thoughts. Aside from what Shiro said about his mother being an angel, a part of you was nervous about meeting your boyfriend’s mom for the first time. Although, the bigger part of you couldn’t deny that you were happy Shiro wanted to show such an important part of his life to you. You squashed down your fears of the worst-case scenarios and beamed at him.

`    “I would love to meet your mom, Takashi. I can’t wait.” A breath of relief left Shiro’s lips before he bent down and kissed you once again.

  “That’s great.”

  A week had passed since then and you were repacking your suitcase yet again for your trip to visit Shiro’s mother in Japan. You had just closed your suitcase when you heard the door to your bathroom open. You turned around only to be faced with a wet and nude Shiro. The only thing covering him was the towel wrapped around his waist. You didn’t even try to be subtle as you admired your boyfriend’s physique.

  God damn, I’m the luckiest woman on earth. You thought.

  “Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Shiro said smugly. You only hummed in agreement. Your eyes trailed his form until they rested on the top of his head. His previous white patch of hair now replaced with a black one. Your eyes widened in surprise.

  “Oh, my god! What did you do to your hair!?” You asked in shock. Shiro raised an eyebrow in confusion.

  “I dyed it?”

  “But why?” You inquired.

  “Because it’s my natural hair color, Y/N.” He stated. You let out a little pout.

  “But your floof…” Shiro sighed affectionately before he went up to you and lightly pinched your cheek.

  “It’ll come back when we film the next season, don’t worry.” You sighed softly.

  “Fine.” You grumbled. Shiro could only chuckle. You turned around to zip up your suitcase. It was then that he realized that you had just finished packing. Shiro wrapped his arms around your waist and hugged you to his chest as he rested his chin on your shoulder with a confused pout.

  “You just finished? I thought you were halfway done before I got in the shower?” You rubbed the back of your neck sheepishly.

  “This is probably the fifth time I’ve repacked, actually.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I’m just nervous about meeting your mom.” You sighed softly and leaned into his embrace. “I don’t want to give a bad first impression. It’s bad enough that I won’t be able to have full conversations with her due to the language barrier.” You averted your gaze from his. You heard him sigh before he gently turned you around to face him. You slowly looked up and met his tender gaze.

  “You don’t have to worry about anything, Y/N. She’s going to love you. And you can’t blame yourself for not knowing the language. You weren’t raised in an environment where you had to and she gets that.” He gently rested his forehead against yours. “You’re going to do great and everything is going to be just fine.” You let out a deep breath to calm your nerves before you nodded in agreement.

  “Right, you’re right. I got this!” You said enthusiastically. Shiro smirked at your reply and stroked your cheek affectionately.

  “That’s my girl. Now come on, we should go to bed. We have an early flight to catch.” You nodded and huddled under your covers as you waited for Shiro to dry himself off and get dressed. He soon joined you in the bed and immediately wrapped his arms around you in another comforting embrace. You snuggled into his hug with a sigh.

  “Night, Kashi.” You whispered.

  “Night.”

  It was a little after 4 in the afternoon when your plane finally landed at the Narita Airport. Your nerves once again resurfaced and you even felt a little nauseous from it. You felt a big, warm hand gently wrap around yours. You turned to face Shiro.

 “Relax.” He said softly. You slowly nodded your head and forced yourself to calm down.

  Relax, Y/N, relax! You’re just meeting his mom, you don’t need to get worked up over this! What’s the worst that could happen? She doesn’t accept our relationship? She makes Shiro choose between us and obviously he has to choose his mother because come on, it’s his mother! Or maybe- You mentally shook your head to stop the pessimistic thoughts from filling your brain. Shiro told you everything was going to be fine, so it’s going to be fine. And besides, Kashi literally talks about how much of a sweetheart she is. Also, since she raised him by herself and he turned out this great, she’s bound to be just as great. You were too caught up in convincing yourself to calm down that you didn’t even realize that you and Shiro had exited the airport and was headed toward the bullet train to Osaka. You two entered the train and found your seats. You looked out the window as the train started to leave to soak in the sights of Japan. You felt Shiro’s hand lace between your fingers and you looked over at your boyfriend who was smiling at you softly.

  “We’re really lucky we were able to get here right before the cherry blossom season started in Osaka. I really wanted to show it to you.” You beamed at him.

  “Really? I can’t wait! I’ve seen the pictures online and they look so beautiful.” Shiro let out a little chuckle.

  “Trust me, the pictures pale in comparison to the real thing.”

  “I have no doubts about that.” Shiro hummed softly in agreement and brushed some hair behind your ear.

  “I’m really glad that you’re here, Y/N.” You looked into his dark eyes that were filled with love and you gave him a warm smile as you squeezed his hand.

  “Me too.” You murmured.  Everything’s going to be fine. You thought.

  After a few hours, you finally got off the bullet train and stepped out of the station. You took a deep breath of the slightly chilly air and noticed a hit of salt from the sea. But what was most significant, was the mesmerizing aroma of the street vendors holding various types of delicious foods.

  “Everything smells amazing.” You said in wonder to Shiro. He smiled at your reaction in amusement.

  “Osaka is quite known for its food. We even have a saying here, ‘kuidaore’. Basically, it means to eat until you drop.”

  “Oh, I intend to, don’t worry.” He let out a little snort at your response as he hailed a taxi.

  You finally made it to his mother’s house. It was a small two-story house wedged in between two others that faced the beach from a distance. You noticed the laundry that was hanging from the second story balcony and the flowers that decorated the fences and front yard. It looked very homey. You were admiring the exterior of your boyfriend’s childhood home when you heard the front door open. You quickly focused your attention to the petite woman exiting the house and unconsciously straightened your posture.

  Shiro’s mother reminded you of him. She might be a bit short and her dark hair might be greying slightly at the roots but she had his warm smile and dark eyes specked with silver that was filled with the same strength. Her hair was tied back and she had an apron wrapped around her waist as a delicious scent came from the house. She was probably preparing dinner when you two got here. She walked up to the two of you, beaming, with her arms spread wide.

 “Takashi.” She said lovingly. Her voice shook a little and her eyes were filled with unshed tears.

  “Kāsan,” Shiro muttered before he dropped his bag at his feet and quickly walked up to her, engulfing her small frame in a hug. Your heart warmed at the sight of him being reunited with his mother. Her arms were wrapped firmly around his back and she patted it lightly before slowly parting from him. She placed a hand on his cheek with a smile filled with motherly affection before her eyes glanced to you. You again straightened your back as you held your breath.

 “Is this her?” She asked, a hint of excitement lacing her voice.

 “Yes. This is my girlfriend, Y/N.” He replied looking back at you with a small grin. You only stood there and smiled nervously as you wondered what they were talking about. Shiro’s mother fully detached herself from her son as she walked up to you and cupped your face with both her hands. She tilted your head from side to side as she looked at you with a scrutinizing gaze and you sweating anxiety bullets before she smiled yet again and hugged you firmly.

  “Arigatō.” She whispered into your ear. Even though you lacked greatly in your Japanese skills, you were at least able to understand the meaning behind those words. Your body relaxed immediately and you returned the hug. You looked over her shoulder and smiled at your boyfriend who was staring at the two of you lovingly. Eventually, she let go of her embrace before she bent down to grab your luggage.

  “Oh, ma’am. That’s fine, really. You don’t need to-” You stopped yourself short, remembering that she didn’t speak English and looked at Shiro with pleading eyes. He looked at you amusedly before he turned to his mother.

 “Mom, you don’t have to. Y/N says she can carry it.”

  “Nonsense! I’m perfectly fine. You two just had a long trip, you must be exhausted. I just finished dinner. I made your favorite.” His mother didn’t even bother to stop as she continued to walk into her house. Shiro sighed as he glanced at you and shrugged his shoulders.

  “She’s stubborn.” He said. You grinned slightly.

  “It must run in the family.” Shiro rolled his eyes and muttered for you to shut up before he bent down to grab his luggage and follow his mother into the house. You giggled slightly and moved to follow him before you stopped abruptly at the sudden wave of dizziness that washed over you. You pinched the bridge of your nose and took a deep inhale of air as you tried to steady yourself.

  “Y/N, are you okay?” You looked up and saw Shiro standing at the entrance, his mother behind him, both looking at you with concern. You smiled warmly and waved your hand.

  “I’m fine, just a little tired. Probably from the lack of sleep.” You reassured. Shiro sighed slightly in relief before he turned around to explain to his mother. She said something back at him while glancing at you and he turned around to translate.

  “She said that it’s probably best if you take a nap to regain some energy.” You shook your head softly and looked at her gratefully.

  “I’m fine, really. Thank you for your concern. I’ll regain energy from eating your food. It smells delicious.” You smiled gratefully at his mother. Shiro smiled as well while translating for you. You grinned at the moment where you assumed Shiro was complimenting your mother’s food for you when you noticed her raise her head in pride. Shiro’s mother spoke again with a grin as she entered the house and you and Shiro followed. “What’d she say?” You asked as you caught up to him. He glanced at you and smirked.

  “‘Damn right.’”

  “The food was delicious- uh, babe, how do you say that in Japanese?” You said quietly, reminding yourself, once again, of the language barrier.

  “Oishī” He whispered back.

  “Right, yes. Oishī, Shū…tome?” You said hesitantly, glancing at Shiro for confirmation that you said mother-in-law (after his mother insisted) correctly. He nodded at you with a smile and you returned it. Of course, the two of you weren’t married, yet. Let alone, engaged. But you couldn’t deny that you have been thinking about it recently. You were taken away from your thoughts and hopes for the future when you noticed Shiro’s mother stand up and begin to pick up the empty dishes. “Shūtome, I can take that-” You stood up quickly and stopped yourself mid-sentence when another wave of nausea washed over you. You leaned against your chair slightly and pinched the bridge of your nose.

  “Y/N!” Shiro quickly stood up and rested his hand on your forehead. “You’re a little sweaty, are you sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m fine. I guess I just stood up too quickly.” You tried to settle his nerves with a smile but he still looked worried. You sighed and placed a hand against his cheek. “I’m fine, honestly. Don’t worry.” You looked up to see Shiro’s mother walk up to you too. You smiled at her reassuringly. “Daijōbudesu.” You muttered and turned to look back at your concerned boyfriend. “I’m just gonna go use the bathroom and splash some water on my face, okay?” Shiro’s eyes scanned your face before he relented.

  “Alright. You know where it is, right?” You nodded and turned your back on the two of them as you headed to the bathroom as calmly as you could. When you turned a corner and was certain that you were out of sight, you quietly bolted to the bathroom, covering your mouth with the back of your hand. You had just barely made it to the bathroom before you coughed up your recently eaten dinner into the sink. You turned on the faucet to wash it away and to drown out the noise as it continued for a few more minutes. Once you were sure it was over, you washed your mouth with water and washed the sweat away from your face. You leaned over the sink and groaned quietly.

  “Not again…” You muttered. This had been going on for the past few weeks. You’ve hidden it from Shiro because you didn’t want him to worry and because you needed to finish shooting the final episodes of your show. You were sure that it was just a stomach bug at first but they shouldn’t last this long. Your eyes snapped open. “Oh shit.” You whispered as you hastily pulled out your phone and checked your menstrual tracker app. You gasped silently in shock as you read the screen. You were over two months late. At first, you chalked up your first late period to stress from the shooting but by the time the second had been missed, you completely forgot about it due to the show. “Oh shit.” You said again. You looked up at your pale reflection as you tried to calm yourself down. “Okay, don’t stress over this, Y/N. This isn’t the first time you’ve missed more than a month. Finals week was always brutal to your cycle.”

  ‘Yeah, but you weren’t having sex during finals week.’ A little voice in your head replied.     “That’s true.” You responded out loud. You started to panic. I can’t be a mom. Not right now. I don’t know if I’m ready! Plus, what’s Takashi going to think about this? Worst-case scenarios started popping up in your head before you mentally cut yourself off. “Okay, I think that we can all agree that we shouldn’t be freaking out over this until we take an actual test first.” You said to no one. You nodded to your self in agreement as you walked out the door and into the living room with a smile.

  You entered the living room with the view of Shiro and his mother talking. They noticed you right away and Shiro’s mom walked up to you and cupped your cheek.

  “You… okay?” She asked in hesitant English. You felt touched at the effort she was putting in to communicate as you nodded with a soft smile. She smiled back and grabbed your hand as she lead you to the couch. Confused, you allowed it at sat down next to Shiro. He put an arm around you and squeezed your shoulder lightly.

  “Are you sure? I can take you to the doctor’s if you’d like.” You gave him a quick peck on the lips in response.

  “Thanks, but I’m good.” You heard Shiro’s mother softly clear her throat and you returned your attention to her. She raised up both hands, fingers spread apart and made a small gesture.

  “Wait.” She said. You nodded to let her know that you would before she walked off again. You glanced over to your boyfriend and he just shrugged his shoulders as you both waited for his mother’s return. Not long after, she re-entered the room with a couple of photo albums in her hands. You sat up straighter in excitement while Shiro groaned.

 “Mom, we don't need to show her these.”

  “Well, why not?” She asked.

  “Because…” Shiro trailed off.

 “Because?” She urged him to continue.

  “It’s just embarrassing.” He muttered. Shiro’s mom rolled her eyes.

 “Oh please! It’s just pictures of you as a child! Worst-case scenario, she sees a picture of you in the bath but what’s the big deal? She’s definitely seen more than that.”

  “Mom!” Shiro gasped, mortified. You sat quietly in between the two of them bickering as you tried to stifle your laughter. Despite not knowing what was being said, you had a pretty good guess based on the photo albums before you, your boyfriend's flushed face, and his mother’s triumphant one. While the two of them went back and forth, you quietly picked up one of the photo albums and opened it. You started flipping through the pictures of Shiro’s childhood with a smile on your face. Shiro and his mother both noticed and Shiro sighed in defeat and reluctantly started looking through them with you. You landed on a picture of Shiro, no older than ten, in a baseball uniform, a band-aid and a little dirt on his face, and a wide smile with a gap from a missing tooth. Shiro’s mom pointed at it with a fond smile and held up nine fingers to tell you his age. You smiled in response as you continued to look through the album. You closed it and picked up another right away, the teddy bears on the cover indicated that these were his baby photos. You quickly opened it and let out a small squeal in delight.

  “Oh my god! Kashi, you were so cute!” You turned to see your boyfriend with slightly flushed features as he averted your gaze.

  “Kawaii ne?” Shiro’s mother asked. You nodded enthusiastically and continued to look through his baby pictures fondly.

  I wonder if our kids will look like this? You asked yourself. You mentally shook your head at the thought. You intended to not think about it until you were certain and dammit, you were going to. You finished looking at the final page of the album and reluctantly closed it and picked up the last one. Most of the pictures were of him in middle and high school. The pictures of a younger and smaller looking Shiro being goofy with his friends made you smile the most as Shiro pointed them out to you and gave you a brief introduction on them. You remember a few of them that you and Shiro met when they visited you in LA, but most of them were strangers to you. You flipped the page again and another picture caught your eye. It was old. The faded colors and grainy filter told you that. And in the picture wasn’t Shiro but a young woman with a slightly older man. You instantly recognized Shiro’s mother for she barely aged a bit. She was probably in her early twenties and she was looking up lovingly of the man who was clearly of European descent. He met her gaze with a similar look.

  “Hey, babe, who’s this?” You pointed at the man in curiosity.

  “Who?… Oh.” You felt the mood drop instantly. You looked up and saw that both Shiro and his mother looked a bit grim.

  “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to-” You were quickly cut off.

  “No, it’s fine. That’s just… my father.”

  “Your father?” You repeated softly. You looked at the man closer and noticed a bit of resemblance between him and Shiro with the facial structure. Shiro never talked to you much about his father. All you knew about him was that he was from Sweden and Shiro’s never met him. Other than that, he basically didn’t exist. You felt a small hand rest over yours and you looked over to Shiro’s mother. She was smiling sadly as she spoke to you in Japanese. After she finished speaking, you turned to look at Shiro for a translation. He looked over at his mother for confirmation that it was okay to repeat it and she nodded.

  “She said that he was a professor at her college. And that they had a secret relationship with one another and that they were doing really well. But when she found out that she was pregnant with me and told him, he quit his job and left the country almost immediately because turns out, he was married and had a family back in his country. He’s probably somewhere in Sweden, the bastard.” He added angrily with a hint of hurt in his voice. You laid a hand on his shoulder and turned to look at his mom with an apologetic look. She smiled and patted your cheek.

  “Daijōbudesu.” She said with an optimistic voice. She looked over to Shiro and looked back at you. Even though she wasn't communicating to you with words, you understood what she meant. ‘In the end, I got Takashi out of this so I don’t regret a thing. If anything, he’s missing out.’ You grinned and nodded in agreement.

  Shiro’s mother tried to stifle her yawn as she glanced at her watch. You checked the time as well and noticed that it was around 11 o’clock at night.

  “Hey, Takashi, it’s getting late. We should probably try to sleep and fight off this jet-lag.” Shiro seemed to have snapped out of some trance and nodded automatically. You got up from the couch and turned to Shiro’s mom. “Oyasuminasai, Shūtome.” You said hesitantly, praying that you bid her good night correctly, before walking up the stairs with Shiro.

  “Oyasuminasai.” She replied.

  You closed the door behind you after entering Shiro’s childhood bedroom. Bits and pieces of his past were shown through the things that he had in them. You looked over to see Shiro staring out the window silently. You frowned slightly and walked up to him. You hugged him from behind and rested your cheek against his broad back.

  “Hey, you okay?” You asked. You heard him let out a big sigh.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. I just… bad thoughts.” He muttered.

  “Sorry for bringing up those bad thoughts.” You replied, guiltily. Shiro sighed again before he turned around and returned your hug.

  “You didn’t do anything wrong. If anything it was him. I mean, how could somebody do that? How could somebody just leave a pregnant woman who was carrying his unborn child alone without a good reason?”

  “I don’t know Takashi. I don’t know why or how people do it. There are just some people like that in this world, unfortunately.”

  “But still. If it were me, I wouldn’t leave. There is no way in hell I would leave. And yet, he did.” You felt yourself let out a little breath of relief that you didn’t even know that you were holding. You were glad to know that if you did find yourself pregnant, he would be with you.

  “You’re not like him Kashi. You have a heart. And you do what’s right.” You felt Shiro hug you a little tighter.

  “But… why didn’t he care?” He asked in a whisper. You felt your heart clench at the hurt in his voice. You pulled back slightly and cupped his face in your hands.

  “Because he's a coward, Takashi. He’s a coward who doesn’t even deserve to know you anyway. You’re a better man in a day than he will ever be in his life. You’re better than him.” You repeated firmly as you tugged on his chin to look you in the eyes. “And he’s worse off without you.” Shiro stared into your eyes deeply and in silence, processing your words. He parted his lips, preparing to speak before he shut them. Finally, he let out a breath.

  “You… you are the greatest thing that has ever happened to me, you know that?” You grinned slightly.

  “That’s a given.” Shiro gently shook his head in amusement as he bent down to brush his lips softly against yours.

  “I love you.” He murmured against your lips.

  “I love you, too.” You replied. You two continued to softly caress each other lips before slowly parting from each other.

  “Let’s get ready for bed. As you said, we should fight off this jet-lag.” Shiro said before leaving your embrace and unpacking both of your toiletries.

  “Okay.”

  It had just past 4 A.M and you still found yourself unable to sleep. Shiro had managed to doze off a few hours ago, hugging you close to his chest. However, you didn’t even feel the least bit tired. And by keeping to yourself in the quiet, the unwanted thoughts of a possible pregnancy started to resurface. You tried to block out the thoughts by shutting your eyes and trying to force yourself to sleep but eventually, you gave up and let out a silent groan in frustration. You slowly started to get up from the futon when you felt Shiro’s arms tighten around you.

  “Babe, what are you doing? It’s the middle of the night.” He mumbled, sleepily. You turned around slightly and planted a soft kiss on his cheek.    

  “I can’t sleep. I’m going to take a walk around the neighborhood.” You whispered.

  “But you don’t know the area. I’ll go with you.” He replied as he started to get up. You quickly stopped him and gently pushed him back down to the futon. Luckily, he didn’t put up much of a fight.

  “I’ll be fine. If I get lost, I’ll just use Google Maps.” Shiro cracked one eye open and looked at you curiously.

  “Are you sure?” He asked.

  “Positive. Now go back to sleep. I’ll be back within an hour.” You said as you kissed his lips gently. Shiro hummed in acknowledgment before his breathing quickly went back to a slow, steady pace. You smiled softly and ran your fingers through his cropped hair before getting back up and putting on a pair of jeans and a hoodie. You quietly walked down the stairs, hoping that you don’t wake up Shūtome. You sighed in relief when you reached the door. You slowly opened the door and picked up your shoes from the shoe-rack outside and slipped them on. You put the hood on over your head and started to walk off in a random direction.

  You continued to walk in whatever direction you felt like before you halted in front of a Lawson. You noticed that it was still open so you decided to walk in and grab a quick snack. You nodded politely at the cashier who welcomed you before you started walking down the different aisles, grabbing snacks that you thought looked appetizing along the way. You were about to walk into the next aisle when something caught your eye. It was a small, pink box. You couldn’t read the words written on it but you could swear that it was a picture of a pregnancy test on the box. You quickly pulled out your phone and opened up Google Translate just to be sure. When the words on the screen matched the label on the box, you quickly reached out for it. Just before you were going to grab it, you hesitated.

  Should I really be doing this? You asked yourself. I don’t know if I’m ready to know the answer.

  ‘It’s better to know now than having a random baby popping out of you and ending up on I Didn’t Know I Was Pregnant.’ A voice replied. After a swift internal battle with yourself, you steeled your resolution and picked it up. You headed over to the counter and pulled out your wallet from the pocket of your hoodie. You quickly exchanged your money for the items and muttered a quiet “Thank you” in Japanese before heading out again.

  You quietly entered the house again and tip-toed up the stairs. You placed the snacks in Shiro’s room before heading to the bathroom with the pregnancy test in hand. Once you were finished, you placed the test on the counter near the sink while you washed your hands. You set a timer for two minutes on your phone and turned away from the test. Seconds seemed like hours as you anxiously waited for the result. When you finally heard the soft chime from your phone, indicating that the timer was done, you slowly turned around with your eyes screwed shut. After some attempts, you picked up the test.

  “Okay, Y/N. You got this. Just open your eyes on the count of three. One. Two…” You slowly opened your eyes and looked at the test. At the end of the stick, you saw two lines. The moment those lines hit your vision, every doubt, every fear or concern or hesitation flew right out the window. You were pregnant. And it was with Shiro’s baby. You were going to be a mother.

“…Three.” You whispered with a smile. Tears started to prick at your eyes as you let out a watery laugh. “I’m gonna be a mom.” You still couldn’t believe it. You rested a hand on your stomach, it was too early for a bump to be visible but you stared down at it lovingly. “Hello, little baby.” You whispered. You felt a tear slip down your face. “I’m your Mama.” It felt right having those words leave your lips. “I know you can’t hear me yet but I hope you know how much I love you already and I can’t wait to meet you. Wait until your Papa hears the news. I can’t wait to see the look on his face.” Happily, you left the bathroom and headed down the hall to Shiro’s room. You glanced out the window and saw the faintest hint of sunlight. You checked your phone and saw that it was ten minutes to six. You knew that you were defiantly able to sleep with this news so you decided to go for a walk on the beach in front of the house. You entered the bedroom and knelt down to look at Shiro’s sleeping face. You smiled warmly at the thought of the future before you reached out and gently shook his sleeping frame.

  “Mmm.” He groaned sleepily.

  “Hey… hey Kashi. Wake up.” You whispered.

  “No.”

  “Come on. Let’s go see the sunrise.”

  “We can see the sunset. Let’s just stay in bed.” He muttered as he grabbed you and brought you down to him. You let out a little squeal of laughter as you playfully pushed against him.

  “Please?” You asked cutely. When he didn’t respond you sighed and continued. “Please?Please? Please? Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease-”

  “Alright, fine. You win.” He groaned as he regretfully pushed himself off of the futon. He slowly dragged his feet and changed into some jeans and a hoodie as well before you two set off for the beach.

  You walked against the tides hand in hand, your shoes in the other. The chilly seawater tickled at your feet as the sun continued to rise, slowly, over the horizon. You two stopped walking soon after and sat down at the edge of the sea. You sat side by side as you watched the sun ascend.

  “This is beautiful.” You said in awe.

  “Yeah. You were right.”

  “I always am.” You said with a grin.

  “Shut up.” Shiro chuckled. You did as well as you continued to stare into the distance.         Alright, Y/n. Now or never. You thought. You opened your mouth to speak, your eyes still set on the rising sun.

  “Hey, Kashi?” You said. When you heard him hum in response, you continued. “I’ve been thinking.”

  “About?” He asked.

  “You know, about us. About our future.”

  “Is it a good one?” He asked. Even though you weren’t looking at him, you could hear the smile in his voice.

  “Obviously.” You snorted.

  “So what is it that you saw in our future?” He asked.

  “Oh… you know. The basics. Engagement, marriage…. kids.” You added softly. Shiro didn’t respond.

  “Do you… do you want kids?” You asked hesitantly, daring not to look at him. Shiro softly cleared his throat before he answered.

  “I mean, of course, I want kids. And I especially want them with you. Eventually. But with the show going on right now and our schedules, we can't possibly-”

  “Takashi, I’m pregnant.” You blurted out. Everything was silent again. You held your breath as you waited for a response.

  “…What?” He said in disbelief. You sighed softly and turned to face him. His face looked like if the word ‘shocked’ was created for just this moment.

  “I’m pregnant.” You said again, quieter. You didn’t think Shiro’s eyes could get any wider but they did.

  “You…” He took in a shaky breath and stood up and took a few steps into the ocean. The water soaking the ankles of his jeans. He didn’t seem to notice or care. You followed suit and walked up behind him. You placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

  “Are you upset?” You asked. You knew that he wasn’t going to leave. His declaration from the previous night confirmed that for you. But you still couldn’t help but feel scared at the thought that he doesn’t want this baby. When his reply didn’t come, your heartbeat quickened. “Takashi?” You asked hesitantly.

  “How long have you known?” He asked quietly.

  “I had my suspicions but I just found out. When I went out for a walk, I bought a test and took it.” You replied.

  “How far along are you?” You took a moment to think about it.

  “If I’m correct…. then a little over two months.” You heard him let out a quick breath.

  “Takashi? Are you upset?” You asked again, quieter now.

  “Of course I’m not upset.” You heard him whisper. He slowly turned around and looked into your eyes with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen. His eyes glistened with unshed tears. “How could I ever be upset. We’re going to be parents!” He said with a watery laugh as he picked you up and spun you around. You let out a little scream in shock before you laughed with him. He eventually stopped and slowly put you down, still wrapped around in his embrace.

  “But you just said-”

  “Forget what I said. I meant it theoretically. But now that I know that you- we,” He corrected as he placed a hand on your stomach, the bump still invisible. “are going to have a baby, I wouldn’t have it another way.” A single tear slipped down your face as you hugged him tightly. He returned the hug and let out a dreamy sigh. “I am so, so in love with you, Y/N.” He whispered into your hair.

  “I’m in love with you, too.” You replied. You two gently pulled apart from each other and stared lovingly into the other’s eyes before you both slowly leaned in and kissed deeply.  He slowly slipped his tongue inside your mouth and twirled it around yours. You let out a soft moan in delight as you pulled him closer. After a few minutes of loving kisses, Shiro’s body tensed and he immediately pulled away.

  “Ah, shit.” He muttered. You looked at him curiously.

  “What?” Shiro let out an exasperated sigh.

  “I left it at the house. Had I known… wait here.” He said before quickly jogging towards the house. You stood there in shock as you watched his figure get smaller.

  “O…kay?”

  You waited for your boyfriend’s return, your feet splashing the water slightly. He couldn’t have been gone for more than a few minutes but it felt like hours. You soon heard footsteps and you quickly turned around to see Shiro running up to you, a little out of breath.

  “I was going to do this when we went to go see the cherry blossoms, but I guess now is better than later.” You raised an eyebrow at him.

  “What are you talking abo-” Your voice left your lips when you saw Shiro kneel down and pull out a box from the pocket of his hoodie. The sea water was basically soaking all of his jeans but his only focus was on you.

  “Y/N, you didn’t know this, but I’ve been set on you for a while now. Even before we were official. When I saw you for the first time at one of our previous auditions, I knew that you were going to be a special part of my life. And when we got cast together for Voltron, I knew that I had to get to know you. And then after our first night… I knew that I was done for. That you were the one for me. I fell for you hard and fast and I couldn’t wait to ask you to be mine forever.”

  “Oh my god.” You whispered. You felt your heart swell at his words.

  “Every time I picture my future, you’re there, Y/N. You’re always there. And I know that we’re a little young and that we just got our careers off the ground but hey, we’re going to be parents now. Life is unpredictable.” He said with a chuckle. You laughed as well. “So what I’m saying is…”

  “Yes?” You whispered.

  “We’re going to have a baby soon…” He trailed off.

  “Uh-huh.” You replied. Your smile widening at the familiar scene.

  “And you’re the love of my life…” He said dramatically. You giggled slightly as you rolled your teary eyes.

  “Get on with it already, Shirogane!” You teased, your voice shaking with tears. Shiro hummed in amusement before slowly opening the box and revealing a gorgeous ring. In the center, it held a round carbonado diamond that sat on a band of white gold. An intricate pattern was carved in the band and held smaller carbonado diamonds along with miniature crystals within. You let out a quiet gasp.

  “Marry me?” He asked. His voice was soft and loving as he stared deep into your eyes. The dam finally broke and the tears spilled down your face. You couldn’t speak so all you could do was nod frantically before you finally found your voice.

  “Yes! Yes! Yes! Of course, I’ll marry you!” You sobbed. Shiro let out a small breath of relief before he stood up and gently grabbed your left hand.

  “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do this.” He whispered as he slipped the ring onto your finger. You laughed in disbelief. You looked up and saw that a few tears slid down Shiro’s face as well before you quickly grabbed his face and crashed his lips against yours. You soon parted and stared at each other lovingly.

  “We’re going to get married!” You squealed. Shiro softly kissed the tip of your nose.

  “I know. And we’re going to be parents.” He reminded you as he looked down onto your stomach. You gently rested a hand over it and Shiro rested his hand over yours.

  “I can’t wait.” You muttered happily. Shiro hummed in agreement. His eyes still focused on your unborn child.

  “You’re going to be so spoiled, you know that?” He said to the baby with a smile. You giggled at his interaction with the baby.

  “You’re going to be a great dad, Takashi.” You whispered. He finally looked up and smiled at you.

  “And you’re going to be a great mom.”

  “Speaking of moms, we should tell your mother.” Shiro gently shook his head.

  “Not yet. Let’s surprise her.” He looked back down at your stomach. “Your Baba is going to spoil you rotten as well.” He chuckled.

  “Baba?” You asked.

  “It’s short for Obāsan. It means grandma.”

  “Ah.” You understood. You looked out into the horizon and noticed that the sun was fully up. You checked the time and saw that it was a little past 7 A.M. “We should head back. We don’t want your mom worrying about us.” Shiro nodded.

  “Yeah, okay.” You started to walk off when you felt a little tug on your arm. You turned around just before Shiro pulled you close and kissed you passionately. He slowly parted his lips from yours and smiled.

  “I’m so happy.” You smiled back.

  “Me too.”

  You entered the house with Shiro and was greeted with the smell of steaming rice.

  “I guess your mom’s up.” You said. He shrugged his shoulders.

  “She’s always been an early riser.” You noticed his mother poke her head out of the kitchen and walked up to greet you.

  “Ohay-” She stopped abruptly in her tracks. Her eyes focused on you. Or more specifically, your hand. She quickly ran up to you and brought your hand up to her face as she examined the ring. She looked up to Shiro with questioning eyes. When he nodded his head with a smile, she let out a squeal of delight as she crushed your body to her small frame. You let out a little laugh in surprise before you returned the hug just as forcefully. She removed herself from you and held your face in between her delicate hands. “Welcome!” She said gleefully. You felt yourself tear up again at her kindness.

  “Arigatō.”

  It was the last day of your two-week trip to Japan. You spent a lot of time with Shiro and his mother. You also got to meet some of his relatives and childhood friends. You and Shūtome had gotten really close over the past two weeks despite the language barrier. You had managed to get by with your minimal Japanese, her limited English, Shiro’s translations, Google Translate, and a whole lot of hand gestures. You silently vowed to yourself to become fluent in Japanese as soon as possible after what could possibly have been the thousandth time you or Shūtome called over Shiro for translation help. During the trip, you and Shiro sneakily went to the doctor who confirmed that you were nearing the end of your first trimester of pregnancy. You, along with Shiro and his mother decided to have a picnic in the park where the cherry blossoms were. Even though you and Shiro knew that it was probably best to share the news after your first trimester, you both agreed that you wanted to be there in person when you told her the news. And plus, you were going to head into your second trimester within the next week.

  After you had found a decent spot to sit, Shiro set up the picnic blanket while you and Shūtome pulled out the food that you had made together earlier that day. You glanced up and admired the view of the cherry blossom trees that surrounded you.

  “You were right, Kashi. The pictures pale in comparison to the real thing.” You said in awe.

  “I know, right? You don’t see things like this in LA.” You hummed in agreement before pulling out your phone and snapping a few pictures. You noticed from the corner of your eye a pair of kids running around and playing with kites as their parents sat nearby. Your thoughts were once again brought back to the baby that was currently resting in your womb and you absentmindedly rubbed your hand against it with a smile. Shiro noticed your gaze and gave you a knowing smile. You returned it.

  “So when should we tell her?” You whispered. Logically, you knew that she didn’t understand what you were saying but you couldn’t help but be secretive. Shiro rolled his eyes amusedly at your actions.

  “We’ll tell her later. Let’s just enjoy lunch. You especially, since you’re eating for two.” You grinned slightly as you picked up a plate of food that Shiro handed to you. Ever since you told him about the news, he has even more attentive than before. Sometimes, you even woke up in the middle of the night to find him talking to the baby in hushed whispers. And now he will only sleep with his arms around you and hands resting protectively over your stomach. Sometimes you think that he’s being a little too cautious but you couldn’t deny that you found the whole thing really cute. You silently took a bite into the delicious food, glad that your morning sickness has been wearing off.

  “Oishī?” Shūtome asked you. You turned to face her and smiled.

  “Hai.” You replied. She returned your smile and continued to eat as well. You, Shiro, and Shūtome engaged in a limited, but lively conversation throughout the meal.

  You all had spent most of the day at the park. Taking pictures with one another and admiring the cherry blossoms as they fell around you and into your hair. The sky was now bright orange and you turned over to look at Shiro with a knowing look. He nodded in agreement and turned to his mother.

  “Mom?” Shiro called out.

  “Yes?” She replied.

  “There’s something that Y/N and I need to tell you.”

  “Really? What is it?” A curious look appeared on her face as she turned fully to face the two of you.  “Well…” He trailed off and glanced over to you. You smiled and gently grabbed Shūtome’s hand and rested it against your barely-visible bump. She looked at her hand that was over your stomach questionably before recognition flickered in her eyes. Her head quickly shot up as she turned to look at you then at Shiro.

  “Takashi?” She asked. Her voice laced with hope. He nodded slowly with a smile.

  “Yes, mom. Y/N’s pregnant. Nearly three months.” Shūtome gasped at her son's words before she turned to face you. She grabbed your other hand with her free one tightly.

  “Baby?” Her voice was barely a whisper.

  “Hai.” You responded. Shūtome’s eyes immediately filled with tears before she pulled you and Shiro in close for a hug. You both returned the hug and smiled at each other over her shoulder.

  “That went well,” Shiro said happily.

  Nearly three months had passed since your trip to Japan. The release of Voltron: Legendary Defender was a month prior and, like your director said, was a big hit. You had informed the cast and crew about the pregnancy and engagement and everyone congratulated you. You even noticed Lance hand Keith a twenty dollar bill in defeat. You grinned at the memory. You and Shiro were preparing to appear at Comic-Con. Your bump was extremely noticeable now so you wore an oversized sweater, despite the heat, to hide it.

  “You ready? We don’t want to miss out flight.” Shiro asked. You turned and saw that he was heading towards you. You stood on your tip-toes and gave him a quick peck on the lips.

  “Yup. Let’s go!” You said excitedly.

  When you and the rest of the cast showed up for Comic-Con, you were all immediately swarmed by fans asking for pictures, autographs, even to just shake your hand. It was all very hectic. And you loved it. You couldn’t believe that in less than a month, your show had this much attention. Surrounded by fans, you looked over to Shiro who was surrounded by his own and smiled. The fans started to ask you and the cast questions and theories about the show. You were trying to be as discrete as you could when you felt a warm hand on your shoulder. You turned and saw Shiro smiling at the crowd.

  “We would love to answer these questions for you. However, you’re going to have to ask at the panel. Where we have to be soon.” The fans all let out a collective sound of disappointment and you had to hide your smile behind your hand.

  “See you later.” You said as you waved at them. You and the cast walked away from the fans and headed off to the panels.

  “Hey, guys!” The director said as she walked up to you. “Did you see the fans? We’re swarming with them!” She exclaimed happily.

  “We just experienced it first hand.” You giggled. The rest of the cast nodded in agreement.

  “Well, anyway. We have to get ready. Our panel starts in an hour.” The director replied. You all went your separate ways to prepare.

  Your panel finally started and the room was filled with fans. There was barely any room left for any of them to sit. You and the cast and the director greeted the fans enthusiastically while the fans returned it with the same energy. You all had a lot of fun talking about the future of Voltron and making the fans laugh with your bickering. Finally, it was time for the cast to ask the fans questions. A bunch of fans stood in a line, waiting for their turn. There were some questions that you could answer, couldn’t answer, could answer vaguely, or just made you laugh.

  “Alright, next question!” The director called out. A bubbly girl, no more than 16, walked up to the mic.

  “Hi! First of all, I just want to say that I’m a big fan! Especially, Lance’s character!”

  “Why, thank you,” Lance replied smugly.

  “So my question is: Do the cast know about the big shipping wars going on? Especially Klance?” Lance’s smug look quickly turned to one of embarrassment and you had to stop yourself from nearly spitting your drink from laughter. You heard squeals from the audience and you and the rest of the crew stared at Lance and Keith with amusement before you reached over and picked up a mic.

  “Trust me, they know. We’ve read the fanfictions and we were all very amused, surprised, and a bit disturbed.” You said with a laugh. The rest of the audience laughed as well. “Maybe next time we should have Keith and Lance reenact some fan fiction.” You said teasingly. The whole audience erupted in excitement at the thought. Keith quickly grabbed a mic as well.

  “Nope. Not gonna happen.” He said.

  “Oh, come on! Everyone wants to see it!” You replied. You glanced back at the fans. “Isn’t that right?” You asked, holding your mic in the direction of the audience. A series of screams and agreements were heard as you glanced back smugly at the two actors, the rest of the cast stifling their laughter.

  “N-next question!” Lance said in mortification. To his, and Keith’s relief, another fan walked up to the mic.

  “Hello! I love your show!” They said enthusiastically.

  “Thanks!” The director replied. The rest of the cast nodded in agreement.

  “Adding on to the last question on shipping,” They continued. “Many have noticed the sparks happening between Y/N and Shiro’s characters. Will there be any more development in the future?” Now it was Keith and Lance’s turn to grin at you mischievously. You rolled your eyes and gave Shiro a playful look.

  “I don’t know, Shiro. Will there be more development?” You asked dramatically.

  “Well, I don’t know myself, Y/N. What do you think?” He asked back, just as dramatic.

  “I think….” You trailed off, keeping the suspense. “That you all will just have to wait and see in the next season.” You said with a grin. You heard the audience let out a collective groan in mock-disappointment which only made you grin wider.

  “Although,” Shiro quickly piped in. The audience’s focus was back to him. “that next season might take a while.” He said as he looked at you. The crowd immediately erupted in a commotion. Your eyes widened slightly before you smirked.

  So this is how he wants to tell them? You thought. Alright, I’ll play along. You brought the mic closer to your face, your eyes never leaving his. When you were sure that you had most of the audience’s attention, you started to speak.

  “Really?” You inquired. “And why is that, Shiro?”

  “Well, we couldn’t possibly film the next season right now. Not with the baby and the wedding coming up.” The room got so silent you could hear a pin drop. It sounded as if there was no one left on Earth. Suddenly, all at the same time, the audience exploded.

  “WHAT!?” You heard one say.

  “ARE YOU SERIOUS!?” Said another.

  “OH MY GOD, I CAN’T BELIEVE THAT THIS IS HAPPENING MY REAL LIFE OTP AGH!”

  “I KNEW IT! I KNEW THEY WERE A THING FOR REAL!” You glanced back at the audience before you returned your attention to Shiro. He shrugged his shoulders with a grin and stood up from his seat before pulling you up as well. First, he held up your left hand, showing off your engagement ring. Then he looked into your eyes for a silent question. When you gave him the okay, he slowly lifted up your sweater and revealed your very visible bump. The audience was destroyed at this point. You heard a series of congratulations and applause from the fans and you beamed at them with pride. Shiro bent down slightly and picked up the mic from the table.

  “And I think that concludes the end of this panel. We hope to see you all again soon. Maybe even with the baby next time?” Said teasingly. The entire audience squealed at the thought. You rolled your eyes at his actions before you and the rest of the crew walked off, waving at the crowd.

  “Wow, way to make a scene, Shirogane.” You said as you walked backstage. He shrugged his shoulders and grinned.

  “What can I say? I’m an actor. I have a flair for the dramatics.” You snorted and shook your head in amusement before you pulled him down for a kiss.

A/N: She lives! For like a day lmao. THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE YOU GUYS ARE HONESTLY THE GREATEST HUMANS!!!

~🐼

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