#I vaguely remember there being tv ads for them too | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

genericpuff · 9 months

Text

The LO TV show isn't happening, and here's why.

Now, before I begin, courtesy to /u/Princess_Space_Goose because they're one of the driving forces behind these observations concerning stuff in the entertainment sector and they were the first ones to make a comprehensive post about it over on reddit shortly after we got into it in the Discord and compiled everything we knew. But I also REALLY wanna talk about this and I'm surprised to see I haven't yet. They've covered reddit, so I'm covering Tumblr LMAO

Disclaimer: Long post ahead. Much of what I say below is speculation but there's a lot of damning evidence to support it. Take it with grains of salt.

Rachel has vague-posted about the show a couple times over the past few years, but very sparingly so, always stating that it's "in the works" without anything to actually show for it. This would have been fine back in 2020 or even 2021 (the pandemic did bring a lot of television/movie development to a crawl) but we're over halfway through 2023 now.

So where's the show? Who's running it? What is it gonna look like? Which streaming service is it going to be hosted on?

We literally do not know any definitive answers to these questions because nothing has been revealed and at this point in the game, that's basically a death sentence. LO has been on a noticeable decline in stats over the past year, while we obviously can't access the backend numbers (and neither can Rachel as far as I know because WT guards them with an iron fist which is a whole other topic for discussion) it's still very clear by the comic's rating slowly but surely dropping and the like count average lowering (obv the like count isn't indicative of view count but if the ratio has remained the same, that means if the like count lowers, the viewership is likely lowering too). There's also been certain behavior from WT over the past year that hints at the comic not doing well, such as its VERY aggressive ad campaigning which often undercuts other series on the platform that are far better than LO and deserve the spotlight, but lose it anyways because WT just wants to keep its golden goose on life support even after its heart has stopped beating.

So the fact that we don't know the answers to these questions still after 4 years is NOT good. We don't know anything and while that was excusable 3 years ago, at this point, it's more indicative of the project being at a standstill or dropped completely, and what we dug up and discussed in the ULO Discord (and what was later posted to reddit) proves it with some very telling information dissected from LinkedIn and other sources.

So far, the only people we know connected to this project are Rachel Smythe (the creator of LO) and Stephanie K Smith (the appointed showrunner). Showrunners are the lifeblood of television series, remember this. Here's a little bit about her:

Lore Olympus still doesn't have a network, this means it has no definitive spot to air, which is not good at this point, because the network is what primarily funds these projects. Think of "Netflix shows" - they're not necessarily made by Netflix, they're made by studios that Netflix funds and as such they're given the Netflix branding because Netflix is their proprietary distribution network and benefactor. So LO has no network or streaming service funding its production. All of her other credited works have affiliated networks/distributors, but LO doesn't.

"But what about Jim Henson Company?" Jim Henson Company bought the rights to LO in 2019 to produce it, that doesn't necessarily mean they were onboard to fund the entire project. Again, these studios need networks to back them, not just for monetary purposes, but with the promise that their project will have a place to go when it's finished, whether it's Netflix, HBO, etc. Think of it like a movie theater - the movie theaters aren't the ones making the movies, but they have deals with the studios to air those movies with the agreement that both sides will be making money.

Jim Henson Company is a production studio, not a network. Not only that, but they're primarily for-hire for puppetry/animatronic projects, they're not the same kind of studio as, say, Laika, or Disney, or Warner Bros. Much of their work is done on the backend, creating animatronics and puppets for kids' productions, monster movies, etc. Currently they're working as the animatronic designers for Five Nights at Freddy's, but that movie isn't a JHC movie, it's a Blumhouse production, which has hired JHC to create animatronics for them.

So, the fact that they were the ones to buy out LO for production rights is... very odd. Because for starters, they don't tend to buy out production rights like major studios, they're typically for hire, but they're also not an animation studio. Any animation projects they've worked on were for concept art and design, such as Word Party, but the folks at JHC primarily specialize in conceptualization and practical effects. That's their whole shtick, it's what they're selling, it's what they get hired for.

That's all early stuff though, stuff we've been speculating on for ages. What came to light recently that spurred on this whole essay was discovering this one section on Stephanie K's LinkedIn:

There are a couple things we can glean from this. First, we know this has to be LO even if it isn't being named, because LO is the only one that was bought by JHC.

This also confirms that LO did end up with a distribution network, specifically HBO Max.

But it also confirms that Stephanie K Smith, the showrunner, is no longer on the project, either due to willingly quitting or being removed. According to the time stamps, she left in April of this year.

This is especially not good because without a showrunner, there's no leader. Showrunners are essential to these projects. So without a showrunner, and without any sort of announcement of a replacement, LO's television show is a ship without a captain, a car without a driver, a Hell's Kitchen without a Gordon Ramsay.

There's mention of an "animated presentation" but as mentioned in that reddit post above, that's not necessarily a pilot, it's more likely it was this. Which can't even really be called "animation", it's just video editing, rigging and tweening, but I digress.

There's a lot more in that reddit thread that dives into some of the details of Stephanie K's stuff, including the HBO Max affiliation and how that potentially connects to the Sydney Sweeney trailer, but ultimately, all of these breadcrumbs add up to one of two things:

LO's television show is in severe development hell which it likely will not come out of for quite some time, especially right now with both the writer's strike and streaming services gutting their animation connections.

LO's show isn't happening at all but with LO's numbers declining and its audience growing more fed up with the series (look no further than the comments on Instagram about LO's recent Eisner win, people are PISSED) Rachel and WT are trying to do as much damage control as possible by dangling a carrot in front of the audience they have left in the hopes that they'll stick around long enough on the promise of a TV show happening to keep siphoning cash and views. After all, there are two things many readers are still sticking around for - the SA plotline, and the TV show, and both of those things are being unnecessarily dragged out in the vaguest way possible with no real resolution in sight.

Neither of these are good, but I think what's even more telling is that, since that post was made on reddit, Rachel has attended SDCC and taken part in a new interview from Girl Wonder Podcast, and when asked about the show, all she had to say was this:

"Um, it’s been really interesting. It’s been educational for me. So, what I—what has been done so far is beautiful. Like, if I could share it, I would. But I can’t. Because it’s very naughty."

IDK if the "naughty" bit is referring to the show or just her revealing info about it, but the fact that NOTHING was shown at SDCC is just. Y'all, I'm sorry, but the show is not happening. If you're gonna show off previews for television ANYWHERE, it's SDCC. It's like the E3 of comics and entertainment media. So the fact that she's STILL VAGUE-POSTING ABOUT IT EVEN AT A MAJOR EVENT WHERE IT'S COMMONPLACE TO REVEAL TRAILERS AND PREVIEWS OF NEW PROJECTS, like... it's just not happening. Jim Henson Company bought the rights to produce LO as a TV show in the summer of 2019. Since then, we haven't seen a SHRED of news, if you google "Lore Olympus TV show" it'll still be the same 2-3 articles from 2019 talking about JHC buying the rights and that's it. If you do further sleuthing, all you'll find is Rachel saying "yeah it's still happening but I can't say anything!" which means fucking nothing at this point. The only 'hope' I have left is that they'll announce it at NYCC which has Rachel in a top billing spot in its advertising, but I'm really not holding my breath at this point.

Animated productions take a while, sure, but LO wasn't the only comic bought for TV production in that late 2010's/early 2020's era. Heartstopper was bought in 2019, and it made it to Netflix by April 2022. And it was live action, a medium SEVERELY affected by the pandemic, unlike animation, which wasn't affected as much because a lot of animation development can be done from home. What did affect the animation sector was streaming services like Netflix gutting their connections to animation studios and putting animated projects on the chopping block... which also doesn't bode well for LO.

It's 2023 now and we still don't even have anything beyond those initial announcement articles and Rachel making empty promises. It's not happening. Don't fall for the "it's coming soon but I can't say anything" nonsense. It's far less genuine now than it was 3 years ago and it has nothing to support those claims that it's actually in development, and ironically far more to support mere speculation that she's lying or doing damage control.

And, if it actually is happening, on a shred of belief in that being a possibility, then it sure as shit isn't being marketed well. Knowing how to build hype in a product is an entire course of knowledge. Marvel is practically the king of building hype, they're why people sit until the very end of the credits now in the hopes of seeing an after-credit scene, even in movies that aren't made by them. LO's numbers are bleeding right now, so to not show anything at even the major events like SDCC is a blatant misfire. Almost like there isn't anything to show in the first place.

You can take all of this evidence as you will. Some of it you may dismiss as "overthinking" or whatever have you. And a lot of it is speculation based on the crumbs we've picked up along the way.

But let me pose you this as a final thought: how can it be a good sign when everything being asked about the show, by fans and critics alike, comes down to "Is the show still happening?"

The best time to reveal proof of the LO television show was 3 years ago. The second best time is now.

#lore olympus critical #lo critical #antiloreolympus #anti lore olympus #long post #analysis post #essay post

202 notes · View notes

isleofair · 24 days

Text

Tiger & Bunny Week Day 2

Tiger & Bunny First Series Anniversary

(allowing for airtime shenanigans lol)

I can't quite put together a full review, but I want to list some moments in Season 1 that I found striking/intriguing/wonderful/thought-provoking when watching it for the very first time (around the end of December 2021):

1 - The princess carry

I said I started watching T&B at the end of 2021, but I had actually been distantly aware of its existence well before that, for a reason I find extremely amusing: I had seen Taibani BL doujinshi while browsing for doujinshi of other anime shows 😂. My vague impression, based solely on the name of the show and the cover art of said doujinshi, was that "Tiger and Bunny" were something like two detective partners... and that the original series was explicitly a yaoi one, because, come on, surely you wouldn't name your characters Tiger and Bunny otherwise, right?!?

I knew by the time I clicked play on Netflix that that last bit was wrong. The princess carry told me that I was not that far off, though, either. 😜

2 - The reveal that The King of Heroes is actually a massive dork

You kind of catch glimpses of it in the previous episodes, but I sort of dismissed them as "eh, it's his over-constructed Hero TV persona, this guy is the King of Heroes, after all, he must have all of his ducks in a row".

But in the very first episode we see him out of the suit, we find out that Keith is, if anything, even more of an overeager puppy when he's not on the clock as Sky High, and this made me fully realize what a rich world of characters I had landed in (and made Keith start to rise very fast in my personal preference ranking of all the heroes).

3 - Barnaby's fear (?) of fire

This one was, to me, a missed opportunity for what could have been an even deeper look into Barnaby's character.

Barnaby here says he "hates" fire (火が嫌いです). From his expression, and the flashback that follows, I think it would be fair to assume that fire makes him at the very least uncomfortable, if not downright afraid. And Barnaby has both and enemy and an ally who have fire as their power, as evidenced specifically in this episode, so I was expecting that to be addressed... but nothing specific ever came of it.

It's true that Barnaby in this first half of S1 is very cool and collected at all times, but finding out if and how his feelings about fire color his perception of and interactions with Nathan and Lunatic would have been extremely fascinating, IMHO. (Even just an explicit acknowledgment of the fact that he doesn't let it influence his relationship with those two characters in the least would have been interesting, and added to his characterization in some small way.)

4 - Episode 17 ("Blood Is Thicker Than Water.")

Definitely one of my very favorite episodes overall (which means a lot, considering it doesn't feature Nathan, or even Keith, for one single second, lol).

We learn so much about Kotetsu, his family, his history; at one of his lowest points, he manages to shine when it matters the most, where no one can see him, but the thing he cherishes most in the world, Kaede, is at stake. And the thing that struck me the most is that he saves her by completely subverting the way we've always seen him apply his power to being a hero: by being still and quiet and attentive, instead of strong, rash, loud. And then he doesn't even need his power to finish rescuing Kaede, to be her hero; just a good old jolt of parent-with-a-kid-in-danger adrenaline.

It's a really fantastic episode.

5 - The ending of episode 24, and the title of episode 25 ("Eternal Immortality.")

(And I don't just mean the whole "gosh, the fried rice thing was pretty gay, but the eyelash comment was REALLY gay, huh?" stuff, lol.)

See, when I watched this, I already knew that season 2 was coming up, so I should have logically assumed they would not kill off their main character here... But I was way too caught up in the story and way too distraught to remember any sort of logic, and I was staring at my screen like "surely they wouldn't... right? RIGHT?!? 😥"

And then I remembered that oh! The last episode is called "Eternal immortality"! It's the only one with a title that doesn't fit the proverb scheme! It must be very significant!

And so I was fully convinced, for the, oh, 10 minutes between here and the moment Kotetsu stands back up in the last episode and explains he had just simply passed out, that he had indeed died, or about as close to is as to not make a difference, and that his Hundred Power, after diminishing, would actually fade completely right there and then and turn into a different power, that would grant him infinite regeneration (see: him healing himself with Hundred Power in episode 13), and thus, essentially, eternal immortality.

Hey, it would have been pretty cool.

(the prompts!)

#tiger & bunny #tnbw

13 notes · View notes

timeagainreviews · 1 year

Text

Moffat’s Great Gamble

Over its lifetime, Doctor Who has accumulated an ample and varied stable of villains, monsters, and baddies. Some are more successful than others. The Daleks were an overnight sensation spreading Dalek mania across the UK. The Cybermen were burned into every Whovian’s mind after proving too much for the Doctor, kickstarting the first regeneration. However, one of the more surprisingly successful baddies was the Weeping Angels. Having been introduced in one of the Doctor-light episodes most writers usually avoided, their overnight success must have been a pleasant surprise at the BBC. Overnight, the phrase “Don’t blink,” became as iconic as “Exterminate!” The next question, of course, was- can lightning strike twice?

It wouldn’t be until three years later that newly appointed showrunner Steven Moffat would put them to the test. A common practice within Doctor Who, when bringing back popular baddies, is to up the ante. Usually, this is done by establishing new abilities and/or technological advancements. Long gone are the days when Daleks were powered by static electricity. No longer can you escape their plunger’s grasp by ascending a flight of stairs. In a similar fashion, one of Moffat’s first steps was to address similar shortcomings of the angels. The next step was also a common one- going bigger.

Unlike the Doctor-light affair that was “Blink,” the return of the Weeping Angels demanded a bigger budget and lots more Doctor. So much so, that it actually required two whole episodes to tell the story. Adding to the grandeur was the exciting reappearance of River Song who had yet to return after her first story with the Tenth Doctor. It’s safe to assume that a lot was riding on the success of this story as it was the first they ever filmed with Matt Smith. An excerpt from the script was also used while auditioning for the role of Amy Pond. In many ways, this was the proof of concept for Moffat’s entire run on Doctor Who. Can the show continue outside the hulking shadow of Russell T Davies and David Tennant?

It’s important to me when revisiting older Doctor Who episodes to try and remember what we the audience knew at the time. When reviewing the First Doctor’s initial stories, I tried to imagine what it was like to walk into the TARDIS for the first time. We’re so used to that old phone box being bigger on the inside that we can forget its initial splendour. Knowing that River Song is Amy and Rory’s daughter and the Doctor’s wife can make us forget that at one point, she was a mystery. I find it important to remember these things because they can colour our memories with hindsight bias.

My initial reaction to River Song was one of frustration. In making the Doctor and her constantly meet in the opposite direction, much of the chemistry between River and the Doctor is merely implied. We’re told about these great adventures when being shown is far more interesting. It feels akin to falling out with a TV show only to jump back on two seasons later and discover a brand-new main character you know nothing about. There’s a sort of grudge against the new guy because they’re unfamiliar to you. In some ways, both Moffat and Alex Kingston lean into this frustration. This adds a bit of something to River as a character. She’s flirty, a bit of a mystery, and very possibly dangerous. It can also subtract from her character as it makes her feel less established and vague.

Something I have always admired about Steven Moffat’s era of Doctor Who is that he was one of the few writers to really play with the concept of time travel. It’s no wonder that “wibbly wobbly timey wimey,” is one of his lines. Even a Comic Relief short like “Time,” does more with the concept than a lot of other writers. It makes sense that Moffat would play with the concept of two time travellers always meeting out of sync. The problem is that while this gimmick is creative, it’s not incredibly interesting to hear about. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again- I don’t care about Jim the Fish. However, this time around, I found myself pleasantly surprised by River Song, and this is largely due to the fact that I know who she is now. If I were to think of her in the same vein as I did those initial First Doctor serials, I would probably still voice the same frustrations. But Alex Kingston is fun, and ultimately, so is River.

While I’m on the subject of River, I would like to mention one bit that still boils my blood, and those of you familiar with this story may already know what I am about to say. While watching River fly the TARDIS with her fuck me pumps hanging from the console is very cool, I can’t stand the joke about the parking brake. I’ve had people defend this joke as clearly being a gag, but I just can’t go there. My geek brain can’t divorce the joke from the history of the show. That would mean that every Time Lord in the history of the show is so bad at piloting a TARDIS that they too leave their parking brakes on. Furthermore, it’s shown to be more than a joke because as River lands the TARDIS, it doesn’t make that fantastic sound. I know this is incredibly pedantic, but I hate it. The only way forward is to ignore it like I would ignore the Doctor being half-human on his mother’s side or the majority of the Chibnall era.

After River’s iconic entrance, we’re given a glimpse into how this new era of Doctor Who will work. Much of this story functions in the same manner as a classic UNIT story. The Doctor is the difficult genius helping a team of soldiers and scientists, while Amy is the audience experiencing the danger on a human level. Much like Sally Sparrow, we experience the toll the Weeping Angels take through her dusty eyes. The fan reactions to the Weeping Angels are challenged here when Amy’s quick-witted idea of winking as opposed to blinking is undermined by an angel imprinting itself within Amy’s eye.

Writers don’t always make characters more dangerous when reintroducing them. Adding more rules isn’t always as effective as creating more dangerous conditions. Too many rules can bog a story down. After years of changing hands between writers, Superman’s powers became so numerous that he bordered on stupidly overpowered. I am happy then that Steven Moffat did a little bit of both. While he does indeed give the Weeping Angels more powers, he also ups the ante by placing our heroes in a more dangerous situation. Instead of an old house full of a few angels, why not an ancient ruin full of hundreds of them? That will do it.

When I first watched this story, I had originally been quite turned off by the idea of the image of an angel becoming an angel, but now I feel a bit differently. You can tell that Steven Moffat thought about the ways these deadly hunters might adapt. If you can stop them by looking at them, then they’ll compel you to look them in the eye thus imprinting themselves. Steven Moffat’s bread and butter are these little areas where he can turn the mundane into danger. Stay out of shadows because they’ll clean your bones dry. Forget a monster the moment you look away. And whatever you do, don’t blink. These are the thoughts of a writer who sat around as a child thinking about Doctor Who. Every one of Moffat’s wibbly wobbly proclivities is the product of growing up a geeky little boy reading Target novels and pondering the implications of time travel.

While Matt Smith is one of my favourite Doctors, I do feel like it’s obvious this is his first outing as the Doctor. There’s a bit toward the end where I feel his Doctor comes across as too angry. Though this is hard to gauge as much of this adventure would be incredibly stressful. You do get an implication, however, of the type of Doctor we would see more of in the Capaldi era. In this story, the Doctor comes off as more authoritative and bossy than usual. By the time they got around to filming “The Eleventh Hour,” he seems much more comfortable in the role. It’s not hard to see how I was instantly endeared to him as the Doctor. He was able to get any stumbles out of the way by the end of filming “Flesh and Stone.”

A stand-out of this story would have to be Iain Glen as Father Octavian. In the future, the Catholic Church becomes more of a military than a religion. It’s a bit muddled how any of it operates, but this doesn’t detract from Glen’s performance. It wasn’t until researching for this review that I realised this role pre-dates his role as Ser Jorah Mormont from Game of Thrones by about a year. I thought his role had been a cameo fresh off the buzz of his HBO fame. Mind you, I didn’t see this episode as it aired. It wasn’t until season six that I got to actually watch Doctor Who in real-time. I was still working my way through David Tennant at this point.

Another cameo I appreciated more than most was that of Mike Skinner as the soldier tripping balls on River’s psychedelic lipstick. In the early 2000’s I was a bit of a fan of the Streets, so it was cool to see him if even for a moment. He’s also a bit of perfect casting as seeing him whacked out like “darlings on Charlie,” was appropriate for his brand. It’s also a great reintroduction to River Song. It’s established that she goes around getting into danger and escaping it with relative ease. Whoever River Song is, she’s dangerous. However, I don’t exactly understand any of what I’m seeing on Byzantium leading up to her and the Doctor’s reunion. I love the idea that the Doctor keeps score by visiting museums. And I like the idea that this futuristic ship full of James Bond villains crashed 12,000 years ago. But I don’t understand why she’s there or much of anything else.

We know that the Byzantium is now crashlanded on Alfalva Metraxis, and its radioactive core is feeding a group of long-dormant Weeping Angels. And this is about as far as Steven Moffat wants us to think about it. River’s transition from spy thriller nightwear to military fatigues is about as fluid as the show’s shift in tone. A couple of throw-away lines of dialogue and suddenly River is GI Jane. It’s not a very elegant transition considering you might miss it altogether. But like I said, Moffat seems more interested in progressing the story. It’s less important how or why we’re in a giant ruin full of Weeping Angels. What’s important to know is that we’re in a giant ruin full of Weeping Angels.

The soldiers work much like they always do in UNIT-type stories- as fodder to be thrown into the gnashers of great evil. There’s some brilliant character work with the Doctor comforting Scared Bob. He also uses this opportunity to bring Father Octavian down a peg or two by implying that it would be stupid to underestimate the angels. This is driven home and amped up all the more by revealing the native species of Alfalva Metraxis had two heads, implying that every statue with only one head is actually a Weeping Angel, eroded by centuries of entropy. It’s nice to be reminded that all you need to do to illustrate the danger of a threat is to place the protagonists in a dangerous situation. I’m not exactly scared of a tiger at a zoo, but if it the jungle, that changes things a bit. You don’t need to give tigers lasers to make them scarier, you just need to place them in an environment advantageous to tigers. It also helps if there are a shitload of them.

With the new reality of their situation in mind, our protagonists are reasonably terrified. Soldiers begin shooting wildly. It would be easy to let the story fall away into action schlock, but ever present is the grounding role that is Amy. Karen Gillan should really be commended for nailing her character so early. There is a vulnerability to her performance here that feels thoughtful. As a person who experiences infrequent eye problems, I can attest to how they can completely occupy your awareness. Much like her performance in “The Girl Who Waited,” Gillan uses her physicality and posture to a great degree. You never forget that something is going wrong with Amy, which creates a persistent unease. The audience is unable to relax because Amy is in trouble.

It’s this sense of dread that carries a lot of this story in sections where it drags. Like a lot of multi-part Doctor Who stories, they feel too long for one episode, and too short for two. A big chunk of the story is given to the Doctor’s conversations with the hijacked consciousness of Bob after the angels snapped his neck. Angel Bob chimes in intermittently to demoralise the lads and establish exposition. It’s an okay device, but out of all of the angels’ new powers, this one is my least favourite. I’m not sure the angels ever needed voices, and in some ways, it makes them less terrifying. This isn’t a Davros moment where the angels have suddenly established their own dictator. It’s closer to learning the inner thoughts of an unknowable horror. Eldritch abominations lose a bit of their edge when you learn they’re not above schoolboy taunts.

Being generous though, I’m going to chalk it up to the fact that the Angels aren’t at full strength. They would need to conserve energy by employing cruder forms of warfare. I suppose my main gripe is that it feels like when Eric Cartman has the power to have every power. I’ve griped about this in previous reviews about the Moffat era’s tendency toward giving villains new and perplexing powers. Like the Zygons turning people into big balls of hair. Or the Ice Warriors and their guns that fold people like beach towels. If this episode is the overture for the grand opus that is the Moffat era, then you can see why problems began to form. Oneupsmanship can be exciting, but it can also be a crutch. It is a form of sensationalism and it can also deflate actual dramatic tension by either elucidating too much or pushing things too far.

Regardless of how I feel about the inclusion of “every power” the Angel Bob segments are still creepy. David Atkins gives a strong interpretation of a naïve soldier being twisted into something cruel. The fact that he’s able to get so much out of voiceover work is impressive. I’m surprised he’s not had a bigger career. Hell, not even Big Finish has used him. Much like Amy’s story arc, Angel Bob gives to the horror movie element of the story. When comparing this story to “Blink,” you could draw parallels to the Alien franchise. The first story is a smaller-scale budget horror while the next installment was more of an action blockbuster. Where the comparison breaks down, however, is that this isn’t an action story after all. It’s more like the story of “Predator,” where a group of soldiers fresh off the set of a Canon film walk directly into a slasher movie. Doctor Who has never told a straight military story. Even when the Doctor worked for UNIT it was usually beside them than with them.

The fact that the military in this story is the Catholic church is an interesting choice, thematically. Angels vs the Church, very big brain Steven, bravo. I do have to scratch my head imagining the sequence of events that would cause the Catholic Church to pivot from systematic abuse toward forming a military… oh wait, I answered my own question. It does muddy the waters a bit with regard to certain characters’ motivations. Father Octavian feels like a man of deep conviction, but if the Catholic Church has pivoted toward becoming a military, does he pray with bullets? Is the G-Man upstairs still part of the equation? Are these priests one with the holy spirit or is that all balderdash in their time? Maybe nobody else gives a shit about these questions, but they’re things that nibble at the back of my mind, distracting me. I can’t be the only one.

Moffat has said in interviews that when he pens a two-part story, he endeavours to begin the second half of the story in a different location or circumstance. He was frustrated by the way “The Doctor Dances,” simply picked up where “An Empty Child,” left off. You can see this in the way “Silence in the Library,” ends in the library, whereas “Forest of the Dead,” begins with Donna living in a house under the care of Dr Moon. I’m not really sure why this is such a big deal for Moffat. It’s like how Simpsons episodes start in one place and end up in a drastically different location. There’s no rule that the second part of a story can’t pick up where the first left off any more than the guarantee that the opposite will be interesting. What’s interesting then is that this story does a bit of both.

Having ended with Matt Smith’s rather cool speech about being the last thing you want to put into a trap, it was a bit of a mystery as to where we would end up in the second half. Having shot a set of gravity stabilisers on the Byzantium, the Doctor and company were able to fall upward to the gravity of the ship’s surface. But this is only a stopgap from the onslaught of Angels growing evermore powerful from the ship’s radiation. The slick interior of the Byzantium stands in stark contrast to the eroding temple below, giving us that Moffat point of difference. On a horror level going from a broken temple to a polished spaceship is a bit of a downgrade. It’s not like the Nostromo with its hanging chains and dark corridors. But don’t you worry, the Byzantium has a forest inside it!

There’s something very Moffat about going from a ruin to a ship, to a dark forest. The forest is arguably the first place we found ourselves naked and afraid. If you’ve ever walked through a dark forest on a moonless night, you know a bit of the animal terror that preys on your brain. Your eyes begin to trick you as you peer in vain to distinguish shadows of trees from shadows of predators. Imagine then that those shadows may be a group of hungry statues with the power to send you back in time to live under Thatcher. Terrifying. I know for a fact that this situation would be scary as it was the most effective part of the walk-through section of the Doctor Who Experience. Even at 30, I didn’t want the Weeping Angels statues to touch me. I think that speaks truth to the lasting terror of Moffat’s most infamous creations.

Things get worse for our heroes when the crack in time and space from young Amy’s bedroom wall makes a cameo. However, this time instead of having the giant eye of the Atraxi inside, we’re greeted by a hungry force of broken spacetime eager to heal itself by feeding on people’s lives. It does so by enticing the priests into its light like an angler fish. As the men go one by one to inspect this phenomenon, it erases them from existence, with the only one seeming to remember being Amy. The Doctor later explains this by telling her she remembers the men because she’s a time traveller now. This makes enough sense in the moment, but falls apart when Amy can’t seem to remember Rory, a fellow time traveller to whom she’s been engaged for some time.

The Doctor, River, and Octavian work their way through the Byzantium while leaving Amy behind. The need arises after Amy’s condition has progressed to the point that she is started to see things that aren’t real. After she begins to think her body is turning to stone, only the sting of the Doctor’s bite can convince her that she is still flesh and blood. Even more worrying is that Amy has begun slowly counting down from ten and doesn’t even notice herself doing it. It’s genius then that the one way for Amy to survive this encounter with the Weeping Angels is by doing the one thing you’re not supposed to do- closing her eyes. Once again, it’s the type of situational intensification that works so much more for me than tiger lasers. The pinnacle of this story arc comes in the form of Amy having to navigate past a group of angels as though she were still able to see. If the angels think she can see them, they might behave as though she can see them.

At the time, I remember murmurs in the fandom from people who were upset to see the angels move in this scene. I can see their argument a bit. It’s a bit like knowing their thoughts in that seeing them move makes them feel a bit less scary. The fact that we never see how fast they move or what moving may look like gives them a monstrous feeling. Personally, I don’t really mind. It worked for me the first time around and I still find it rather fun. The stone-against-stone sound they make as their heads look toward Amy is cute. Does it break the fundamental rules of the Weeping Angels? A bit yeah. The fact that they kind of move here says that maybe the angels aren’t quantum-locked at that moment. It implies that maybe they’re standing still because they expect they can’t actually move. It’s a case where the unknown leads to interesting questions as opposed to distracting ones. Moffat is transferring the way he experienced Doctor Who as a boy into his writing.

One element that really bothers me is the way in which Father Octavian dies. With so many variables to now worry about, the Doctor is really feeling the pressure. Amy is close to death. The angels are progressing. The crack is getting bigger. And there are lives at stake. What bothers me is that the Doctor gets lost in thought about the crack’s ability to erase people out of existence. I find it annoying that the most they can find for the Doctor to do in this moment is flap his hands about while piecing together that time can be rewritten- a fact that the Doctor has stated on numerous occasions in the past. He gets so involved with this train of thought that he completely misses that Father Octavian is about to be outflanked by a Weeping Angel. It’s nice that Father Octavian has a brave and dignified death, but I am offended that it was because the Doctor was busy figuring out the blatantly obvious. It’s one of the moments I felt was a bit of a misstep for this new Doctor. Sure, the Doctor is prone to get lost in thought, and the Doctor does occasionally get people killed. But this was possibly one of the dumbest reasons ever. Octavian’s death is played like a sacrifice, but it was a very unnecessary one.

The answer to all of the Doctor’s problems is of course right in front of him. I sort of like the way the angels try to goad the Doctor into dying for them. It’s as if in their own sick manner, they are attempting to use the Doctor’s ethos of self-sacrifice to save even their rotten existence. The Doctor is having none of this though, as a group of Weeping Angels would be just as satisfying a meal to a time anomaly as would a Time Lord with years of time travel under his belt. The fact that the angels even tried this tactic makes them feel alien. Like they misunderstand compassion so much that they think of self-sacrifice as an exploitable weakness. I like that even in giving the angels the ability to speak, they do still retain a bit of their esoteric inscrutability.

Putting his big Time Lord brain to work, the Doctor comes to another obvious conclusion- if messing with gravity worked the first time, why not a second time? In the spirit of Indiana Jones chopping a rope bridge, the Doctor cuts the gravity long enough to feed the Weeping Angels to the crack in the wall, satiating its hunger enough to seal the crack once more. This moment is also a nice call back to the scene where the Doctor jumps down into the Byzantium which changes his centre of gravity. What seemed like a cute little moment of sci-fi fun with perspective and physics was actually the loaded gun ready to go off in the third act. I love it when Doctor Who does that. It’s like how throughout all of season four you hear about planets disappearing, a trope almost as old as the science fiction genre, and discovering that it’s actually a huge plot element in the finale.

While the Doctor still doesn’t trust River, it's interesting then that she returns to the Storm Cage. Whoever it is that she murdered, it was someone she respected enough to believe she belongs in prison. With nobody around to physically take River back to her cell, she still makes no attempt to escape the smokey teleportation beam. If they were ever trying to make us think River had murdered anyone other than the Doctor, I would be surprised. It seems pretty easy to imagine that it’s the Doctor. I think the only way they could have subverted expectations is for it to have not been the Doctor. You can even tell in the way the Doctor asks River who it was that she killed that he already knows the answer. There’s an interesting dichotomy set in motion where River knows she killed the Doctor, and the Doctor knows River died to save his life. It’s one aspect where the concept of two people meeting in two different directions can be very fulfilling.

As a proof of concept for the Moffat era goes, I would say this was a success. Steven Moffat wasn’t just working to establish his brand of Doctor Who, he was working to keep the show afloat. This was a Patrick Troughton moment in that much of the show’s future hinged on its success. I know I make it sound as though I am treating this like it was the actual first story that aired, but as I said before, it was the first story they filmed. They needed to nail this one in order to move forward. And it wasn’t just about whether stories about the Eleventh Doctor or River could replace the Tenth Doctor or Captain Jack. It was about whether the era could maintain the momentum of the Russell T Davies era. If everything were to all change from what came before, would it make or break the show? I think we can proclaim that yes, lightning can strike twice.

#Doctor Who #Flesh and Stone #The Time of Angels #Steven Moffat #Eleventh Doctor #Matt Smith #Amy Pond #Karen Gillan #River Song #Alex Kingston #season 5 #BBC #TARDIS #Weeping Angels #Father Octavian #Iain Glen #Time and Time Again #timeagainreviews

34 notes · View notes

hiding-under-the-willow · 11 months

Note

thoughts on Eric and his place in the markiplier tv office dynamic? also Bingand Google? I love ur rants abt them all!!!

This is the point at which I have to be completely honest with you. I know Eric is deeply beloved by a lot of people, but I really do not have many thoughts on him. His whole thing came out like. Slighty after my exit from the fandom in middle school. So I remember watching his stuff when it came out, but he never got like. Absorbed into the canon in my head. So. Uh. Apologies on that one. Maybe I'll go back and rewatch his stuff at some point and come back with some thoughts.

Google and Bing on the other hand I can absolutely talk about.

So I think I vaguely mentioned their roles at the network in one of my previous posts but I'll elaborate lol. Google is Dark's assistant essentially, he's mostly in charge of finances and tech stuff around the office, but he also has some other responsibilities. I think out of everyone in the office there are two other people who know the exact reason for Dark's whole thing with Mark, who know the extent of his anger and his motivations. These two people would be The Host, bc well, kind of unavoidable, better to have an ally there than to just let it go unspoken, and Google, who knows because he is constantly helping Dark with his different revenge plots. He's constantly on the look out for opportunities for attack on Dark's end, stalking casting lists in different productions for jobs Mark might've taken, scanning forums and socials for mentions of him, hacking into security feeds and police records. He is The information guy for Dark.

Bing on the other hand kind of has no fucking clue about all that shit, cause he's working in PR, which means he's out working more so with the actual people in the studio, and more directly with Wilford. He's the guy behind the scenes making sure all of the deranged idiots he works with aren't doing shit so insane on air that they get the network shut down. Every script runs by him, every ad Ed makes, all of Bim's ideas for segments on his show, every story the Jim's pick up. All of it. That doesn't exactly stop the things the channel is producing from being completely unhinged, but i think Bing is aware of the public perception of the station enough to shape it in a way that won't get them in too much trouble.

See i think Bing was built with more of a understanding of human emotions than Google was. I think Google is more focused on hard data, while Bing was made more so with the application of that data in mind. Like. If you need government records that are probably not so legal to obtain. Google's your guy. If you want to use the data from those records to persuade the public to feel a certain way. Bing is your guy. You want to do some biometric scans of some guy to figure out stuff about his health? Google has that shit handled. You need to break some heavy news found from those scans to said guy. Bing knows how to handle it gracefully. That's the vibe on these two.

The thing is though. It's not that either of them were built to feel human emotions, even if you'd think it looking at Bing. He just happens to have been built with a better ability to understand, and therefore effectively act out said emotions.

This makes Bing really good at his job, because he's basically playing both sides in the office. He has a complex enough understanding of the view of the network by the public, as some kind of satire art project, and he leans into shaping that public image as much as possible, because that creates a stable market of pretentious art nerds and satire comedy enjoyers. He knows if the public were to realize the sincerity and reality of half the shit on the station they would lose their audience and get in a shit ton of trouble. But then he doesn't tell anyone in the office, who thinks they've got a genuine viewership base who understand their art or whatever, what perception the public has of them. He just makes the edits he needs to to their scripts, nudges them away from more dangerous bits, keeps everything under control, and let's both sides believe they've got what they want.

And this is the really interesting part, because I think the longer they spend in the office, the more they deviate from their original objectives to work for Dark and Wilford, the more they evolve. And I think Google does it faster. You'd think Bing, with his deeper understanding of human emotions and better capabilities at replicating them, would be more likely to see a more rapid decay of his more machine like tendencies as he begins to show more humanity. But bc so much of Bing's job at the studio is playing on his intented use of handling data and using it to manipulate people, he takes much longer to start breaking down those barriers. Google on the other hand, as much of his job is data oriented, something about seeing Dark in his most intense moments, of anger, of sorrow, of regret, or satisfaction, wherever his revenge journey leads him, that does something to him. Because he wants to understand the emotions that would lead someone to go to the lengths Dark does so badly. And that leads to a certain jealousy of Bing's understanding of human emotions. Only for him to realize that the jealousy itself is a human emotion. That he should not be able to feel. And things spiral from there. Anyways I think he probably developed a deep emotional attachment to Dark and his revenge journey meanwhile he's trying really hard to keep up the appearance that he is still the data driven machine he's always been.

Bing meanwhile I think is slowly starting to realize some shit is up with Google, and he's realizing there's something wrong with Wilford and Dark, something he doesn't know that he decides he needs to know if he's going to keep the public image of the studio up. I think it'd be really fun to see Google, the mechanical data driven one, attempting to appeal to the humanity and emotion of Bing, who is supposed to be the more human between them, because Bing is getting too carried away with the manipulation involved in his job.

#atlas speaks #ahhhh can you tell i had a lot to say about these two #i have some incredibly specific ideas about them lmao #anyways Eric was only in like one live stream right? unless i missed something else over the years #i just barely missed the hype with that guy unfortunately #like i said. maybe I'll go watch his stuff and come back with some thoughts at some point #it feels so weird after all these years coming back to the fandom and just having bing and google be named bing and google lmao #like it felt normal back in the day bc i was 12. and now not so much. but it's slowly becoming normal for me again. which is just as weird

7 notes · View notes

daedalusdavinci · 4 months

Note

spell homestuck

GOD. THIS IS SO MUCH LONGER THAN TWO FACE. i typed too much and theres too many qs so under the cut it goes

H - What is your favorite source text for fandom stuff (e.g., TV shows, movies, books, anime, Western animation, etc.)?

books!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! or....... i guess comics, these days, but i HATE READING COMICS they juST HAVE MORE COMPELLING FANDOMS. book fandoms are PUNY nad everyone is STUPID. youd think actual literary fandoms would have reading comprehension and understanding of literary critique but no!!!!!!!!!!!!! its literally my eternal fuckign struggle. somehow comic fandoms hit the perfect medium between compelling, readable content and the enthusiasm of cartoon fans without the childishness of cartoon fans

O - Choose a song at random. Which ship or character does it remind you of?

this isnt really a thing i do. the only time i associate characters w songs is my own ocs. barbies theme is miltons tower from the what remains of edith finch soundtrack!

M - Name a character that you’d like to have for a friend.

i have also never really been one to project myself into stories. its just not how i consume media. i think sollux and rose already closely resemble the kinds of friends i make, so maybe them?

E - Have you added anything cracky/hilarious to your fandom? If so, what?

(freddy fazbear vc) vanessa.... ive done things, im not proud of.

i dont even know if i want to answer this question bc its so fucking humiliating LKJSNDLFSDNFSDF the truth is yes. i am solely responsible for. a lot. particularly in the pjo fandom. i created several crackships ground up all on my own way back in 2014 and developed a following for them and i. dont wantto tell you what those ships were. LSKJDFNSLDJNSDFSDDF ive also pioneered many ship tags for other fandoms and i ship a lot of rarepairs and stuff but i dont think im RESPONSIBLE for them?? in that some ppl already were into them/talking abotu them or tht theyre still not popular (augh. to the ones that became popular) but i AM liTERALLY responsible for some crack shit in the pjo fandom and its. it haunts me sometimes. i dont want to talk about it. IF YOU REMEMBER WHAT I DID NO YOU DONT

S - Show us an example of your personal headcanon (prompts optional but encouraged)

this is so vague. my headcanons are shifting and nebulous and aus are my constant companion in everything, but uhhhhhhghhusjkdjnsdg i think. roxy writes the same way dave draws comics. its extremely memey and meta and self aware and largely just for the personal lolz, and were all doing her a disservice by pretending her writing looks like roses, when in reality dirk is probably the one whod make comics the way rose makes books (which is probably why he doesnt make comics). its more of that thing where roxy and dave are the same and rose and dirk are the same ykwim. well YOU dont corvus but im sure someone else does

T - Do you have any hard and fast headcanons that you will die defending?

jason takes after bruce in terms of like. adopting entirely too many kids. he broods

U - Three favorite characters from three different fandoms, and why they’re your favorites.

harvey is a heartwrenching character when written well, with a complicated view of morality, heartbreaking ties to our main hero, and a lot of internal conflict. something about such a hopeful character deadset on making a different in the system becoming a victim of it, and the potential he has as a vehicle for critiquing the law.

percy is my favorite character from pjo bc it was the very first time in my life i ever read a book and saw myself in it. hes aggressive, impulsive, and rebellious, he fidgets and has a hard time standing still, he acts on emotion without always thinking it through, he gets in trouble in school and hands his mom a murder weapon to kill his stepdad, hes just... hes a lot of the things ive always gotten in trouble for, things i couldnt help being, and hes a hero. he means everything to me.

vriska, i will maintain until the day i die, is one of the best homestuck characters- maybe just characters?- ever written. shes dramatic, shes impulsive, shes manipulative and mean and creative, and shes just so messy about it. shes a mean girl in a way that feels real, where her trauma impacts and shapes her as a person, and shes complex, with warring wants, and people she cares about, and dreams, and shes so messy. shes rough and rude and shes doing what SHE wants to, being a version of herself that feels right to HER, rather than some caricature of the hot badass evil lady. shes thirteen!! and she FEELS thirteen. shes a thirteen year old weird girl who is kind of an asshole, and she means literally fucking everything to me. shes a pirate!!!!! shes a swashbuckling badass dressing up in her larping outfit and yelling at her friends on the playground to swab the deck and she is the bestest ever, the end.

i didnt mean for each one of these to be longer than the last but here we are.

C - A ship you have never liked and probably never will.

i hate jdedave peace and love it just feels weird as hell to me. dave, for the most part, is hyper respectful of other peoples choices and boundaries but when it comes to jade hes always trying to mke choices for her, to protect her, and it gets to the point where even jade points out how much it bugs her. jades crush on dave also seems to come from a place of misunderstanding to me, admiring a lot of the parts of himself that he exaggerates and pretends to care about as a result of trauma. it always felt like a kid crush that they shouldve grown out of with time. dave also just sort of seems to... go along with whatever romantic relationships people push him into at that age, rolling with whoever flirts with him jsut bc hes trying to maintain the image of a player, so its really hard to take him seriously any time he hits on someone?

that is just my interpretation of it tho

K - What character has your favorite development arc/the best development arc?

well. i havent finished my reread of homestuck, so that feels difficult to comment on just yet, bc im sure ill have a different opinion when i do finish it. no one in dc gets character arc bc theyre all just undone immediately, so thats like. yeah. and in pjo the arcs are pretty weak bc 1) kids books and 2) RICK UNDOES THEM ALL. AUGH. regardless of all of this, i am going to say jason grace. he had a lot of development in like the last two hoo books, or maybe just like.... hints of how he couldve developed? promise? which rick immediately set fire to in toa when he killed him, but fUCKING WHATEVER. UGH.

anyway actually tho eleanor from the good place. bisexual icon. queen. probably one of the best character arcs of all time. the episode w her mom has some of the most powerful fucking dialogue ever and i think about it. all the time. i should rewatch the good place.....

#asks #redactedcrow

2 notes · View notes

literategoblin · 1 year

Text

4/52 "I'm Glad My Mom Died" by Jennette McCurdy

Autobiographies have never been a genera I found myself reaching for or logging in my TBR, I'm not sure why that is exactly. But when I saw this was coming out, with a title like that and by an actress I remember watching on TV myself as a child it seemed as good a time as any to give them a try. And wow, what a ride it was. Jennette recounts her experiences with her abusive mother throughout early childhood as well as her experiences as a child actor and the ways that has affected her life. She also delves into her experiences with eating disorders, romance, depression, and a number of other things. I was shocked at how much I resonated with her experiences with certain things throughout the book. The prose is written a delivered in a quick, blunt, but flavorful style that really moves thing along. It feels so much like a conversation, but almost always like a natural one. It is emotional, impactful, and very often deeply relatable despite the extremely heavy subject matter. This book deals with serious issues, anorexia, bulimia, alcoholism, child abuse, mental health, depression, among other things. The book is marketed as "impressively funny" and perhaps to a different person, it is. But I didn't really resonate with the humor, I suspect that is more of a personal taste issue than an issue with the writing or delivery, but all the same I found the book to mostly have a serious tone panning to sarcasm or exasperation when it needed to. But the tone selected fits the subject matter remarkably well, making the 304 pages feel like they are flying by. The formatting also helps with this. With the book being split into 91 "chapters" or sections with some being only a single page long. While an odd choice at first it really grew on me by the end. Jumping from moment to moment as we move down a timeline to the modern day. The abrupt transitions do a good job of adding a little extra impact to certain scenes, though I admit a few take away from what was being developed in the section before. Moving on a little too fast for the material to really set in or develop with the reader. All in all however. This was a very enjoyable read, if you're in a place where you can handle a heavy and emotional book, I can very sincerely recommend it. I can see how the chosen style might not resonate with some people, and I can also see how someone who hasn't been affected by some of the things in the book may have trouble relating to Jennette, I think if you have experiences even vaguely adjacent to hers, you will find a very powerful experience in these pages.

"I yearn to know the people I love deeply and intimately—without context, without boxes—and I yearn for them to know me that way, too.” 4.5/5

#reading #tbr #book review #book recommendations

10 notes · View notes

amalthiaph · 1 year

Text

Three People Watched Narnia

This is a story of three people who watched The Chronicles of Narnia films. They all loved it. But their opinion and views differ.

The Hopeful

It was 2006 or 2007 (I cannot remember) when The Hopeful turned on her little TV to watch this film about kids finding an enchanted world inside a wardrobe, an object she had just learned.

She didn't quite get the opening sequence: those bombs falling to them, and the Pevensies scrambling to get to the bomb shelter. She just knew they had to leave their mother, and she paid little to the words Helen told her children. She paid little to none when they waved their hands on the parting train. She only watched the grand house of the professor, and that mysterious wardrobe that sat in one of the rooms.

That one wardrobe that Lucy went through. She watched the lamp post but never wondered by its light never went out. She watched the wonderful Tumnus, and envied Lucy that she gets to have tea with him. She also envied Edmund and wished she'd get a taste of those Turkish Delight as well. She envied the Pevensies as they went across the world with the beavers, meeting Father Christmas and Aslan, and how Peter, with Rhindon, led an army to defeat the White Witch. She envied how they were crowned and how they ruled for a time.

Lucy is her favorite. She envies how she found a magical world, how she became friends with Tumnus, how she loved Aslan so much, how she could heal with just a drop from the cordial, and she was called The Valiant.

In the days that followed, The Hopeful started crawling under pretty much anything, one I can remember so well was a shrub, in hopes of emerging in Narnia on the other side. She always found herself on Earth, but The Hopeful remained hopeful.

2. The Hateful

She was betrayed. She was played. She was torn. The Hateful sat on the sofa of the publication room, hiding and, once again, skipping class. Their editor-in-chief is watching on the computer instead of doing the school paper. Soon, she got bored of just sitting and staring, and feeling depressed that she finally decided to turn to the editor-in-chief.

A small smile appeared on the side of The Hateful's lips, something she hadn't done in a while, as she watched a small man, half-dwarf actually, named Cornelius, if she remembers it correctly, help a prince escape a castle because his uncle had just had a son.

It's been five years when she last been to that world, and it was just as beautiful as she remembered. That night and the next two, she watched the films with her family. For them, it was rewatching an old film, to The Hateful, it's reliving.

The Hateful relived those days she was happy, she wasn't torn and she wasn't betrayed. Then, she found out that that was how life goes: there are good days and bad days, good people and bad people. Much like how it were for The Pevensies. They had the Golden Age and there's their life at St. Finbar's and Hendon House. There was Narnia and there was England.

Her favorite was Edmund. She admired the Just King for being just. She remembered how he sold out everyone and fought to clean the mess and redeem himself. Maybe just like Edmund, she can fix things and herself too.

3. The Realist

There are good days and bad days, good people and bad people, she says. She always neutral and just. She is The Realist.

It was one afternoon in December that she turned on her Disney+ and vaguely remembers how she used to have it all on cable. She turned on a familiar favorite, starting with the first film, The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe.

"I love how they laid out that sequence from the WWII to their journey to the countryside, to Lucy's discovery of the wardrobe," she told her mom who had just joined her. "It's just a paragraph in the book, if I remember it correctly."

She added, "And those things Helen told them before they left, those are exactly what they learned in Narnia. Lucy became valiant, Susan became gentle, and Peter protected everyone in the very end."

Every now and then, she would say something, things she noticed in the film as if watching it for the first time. "Edmund didn't sell them out for candies," she said, "He was just being a kid who's trying to stay out of trouble."

She smiled at the White Witch, "I love Tilda Swinton. She portrayed the character so well." She continued, "And whoever the scriptwriter is, they're amazing, having crafted words this well."

She watched as Edmund ate the toast as if there'd be none left tomorrow, and listened well to the soon-to-be Just King as he told them the horrors he saw and how he helped them happen. "And he was the first one to want to fight," The Realist said.

Her binge watching brought her to the next film, Prince Caspian. It has always been her special favorite. "Always has, always will be," she mutters whenever she sees the film.

The Realist hated it when the film barely adapts anything from the book. She thinks doing so ruins the story. But the opposite was the case of Prince Caspian for her. She always thought only ten percent of the story was true to the book, and normally, this messes things up, but not for Prince Caspian. She thinks it only makes the story better.

One particular off-the-book thing she likes was the relationship between Caspian and Susan. Some thirteen years ago, when she first watched the film, her little heart thought it was cute. And some thirteen years later, The Realist thought of the gravity of it all.

First, Susan isn't returning to Narnia, at all. She thought it must've been difficult for both royals meeting someone, loving them, then parting ways forever.

Second, it's not in the books. That's not supposed to happen at all! It was also unneccesary. And it also messes things up (and the fandom) for another character, and that is Ramandu's Daughter or Lilliandil. How would the writers turn Caspian's interest to her? The Realist thought it was foolish of them to do that as that MIGHT and COULD change a lot for Lilliandil and The Silver Chair.

And as much as The Realist enjoy the last sequence of Prince Caspian and the king stating "Not one to compare with your sister" in the next film, she knew it wasn't supposed to be Susan.

She let that run in her head again, and again, as she inhaled the smell of the old pages of The Silver Chair, reading its fourth chapter a few hours after finishing watching The Voyage of the Dawn Treader. She did so after feeling frustrated how they teased the fourth film by mentioning Jill Pole, but never got to make it.

In the days that followed, she thought of how Susan is her favorite because of how interesting her character is. She is the Gentle Queen, the loving one, and the nicest one, yet she was the one who fell out of love for Narnia, and The Realist indulges in that kind of irony in stories.

The Realist loves films but she always says she views them as a form of art rather than a form of entertainment, and always notes how that mentality ruins the fun for her. And although her all-time favorite film, The Chronicles of Narnia was never exempted.

The Hopeful, The Hateful, and The Realist. They are the three people who watched Narnia. One saw it as a fairytale, the other as a lesson, and the other as a film. Three different people, three different views, and one person: ME. I am The Hopeful, I am The Hateful, and I am The Realist. This is a story of how I watched the same films in different stages of my life. And how true were the words of C. S. Lewis, the author of The Chronicles of Narnia, in his dedication of the first book that one day, his goddaughter would be old enough to read fairytales again. The story remains the same, but your perception doesn't.

#chronicles of narnia #the chronicles of narnia #rant #random rant #my rants #narnia

5 notes · View notes

elliebartlets · 1 month

Text

veronica mars rewatch 1x05: you think you know somebody

• watching this show made me realize I miss the “previously on” segments that are lacking in todays tv shows

• literally insane that high schoolers in California go to Mexico to party. Like I’m sure that’s a thing irl too, but if I lived in California (or in a state near Mexico) I never would’ve done that in high school, nor would my parents have let me.

• that dude definitely has drugs in the piñata but why didn’t the border patrol catch that?

• I think it’s hilarious their car was stolen in the us and not in Mexico

• “dude, where’s your car?” now why did I laugh too long at that

• “if I gotta be any of them white boys it’s gotta be shaggy”

• it’s drives me crazy how Keith cannot hear Veronica and Wallace talking (at a normal volume!) about Troy’s stolen car when they’re at the desk next to his office, but when he’s goes into the break room and Veronica is whispering to Wallace what to get Keith for his birthday he hears everything

• why does Lianne have PI pictures of Veronica in a safety deposit box???

• wow I can’t 100% remember but didn’t Lianne slept with Jake Kane? cause I do remember there being a plot with Veronica freaking out that her and Duncan could be related and Keith taking a paternity test

• “Have you decided which parent you’re going to live with after the divorce? And if I may, a follow up, can you believe your father’s choice in mistresses?”

lmao Veronica doesn’t play

• ok come on, that girl deserved it!

• “You look like you’re ready to fight.”

“I get that a lot. I guess it’s just my usual expression.”

• I’m so confused I thought the car was chopped…why/how are they tracking it?

• oh nevermind 🐶

• that whole plot twist with Troy just gave me whiplash!! I vaguely remember it and knew he gave me bad vibes for a reason but damn! I feel like this plot came out of nowhere too. So he just like…sells drugs and gets arrested and kicked out of his school and then… repeats the process? What about his parents? They just assume he’s gonna be in boarding school when he’s really going to just run off with this Shauna woman and sell drugs? It’s just so weird lol

• and it’s killing me I don’t remember everything with Lianne (this doesn’t mean I want an explanation tho)

• this episode was kinda weird but I did like it for the plot twist with troy and adding more stuff about Lianne. and for Veronica bringing down the steroid man.

#veronica mars #vmars #vmars rewatch #you think you know somebody

1 note · View note

thatkinkyautistic · 7 months

Text

I'd like to bring some awareness to my legal blindness.

Here's a visual example of how most of the world appears to me without glasses,vs with glasses:

And here's that same photo,without the edits added by me,for comparison.

Wall of text under the cut

I'm going to start off with some clarification,since this is an unfortunately very common misconception: no,not every blind person sees nothing but pure white/grey/black. There is varying levels of blindness,and each case of blindness is unique. We're all unique individuals. My father's vision impairment is different from my own, which is different from my mother's,and her mother's,and so on and so Forth. Out of all of us,my vision impairment is the worst case.

Being legally blind means that I cannot safely operate vehicles, or any large machinery. I cannot safely steer shopping carts,or anything else of that sort of matter. Using a phone and other devices can be tremendously difficult for me at times,and is simply impossible without my glasses on.

Most signs are barely legible for me. I cannot safely maneuver myself around,I am very prone to accidents or injuries if some one is not holding directly onto me and guiding me around,keeping a keen eye out for any potentially dangerous obstacles. I've had disastrous accidents due to my blindness.

Putting on my clothes,eating and many other routine activities is extremely challenging for me. It's dangerous for me to take showers if I'm alone.

I've had my fair share of embarrassments due to my condition. I'm constantly making grammatical errors,for one example. Another example is how I'm constantly bumping or otherwise colliding into other people, animals, or objects(often causing them to be damaged)

I've often been put into scenarios where I had to ask for assistance with many,many different things over my lifetime due to my blindness

I cannot tell what people like without my glasses,I am completely incapable of determining what things actually look like in mirrors without my glasses. I still struggle with mirrors,even with my glasses on.

Much like how my other disabilities affect so much of my life and make me who I am,I don't believe I would "be me" without being legally blind.

The most truly sad part is this in my opinion: I've been isolated from other blind people for almost all of my life,I haven't had the pleasure of having that community and support system to turn to.

I don't know if we have a culture,nobody I knew personally went out of their way offer me any resources/tips to make life more accessible as a blind person

I know of a few blind people who have an significant online presence,but I know none of them personally. I'm not sure if I even have any blind friends or partners at all,or ever had any.

I'm vaguely familiar with only one blind artist,and I know of only one blind famous person. One of which is dead,and the former may or may not be alive.

When I was 3,i already had some vision difficulties. When I turned 5,things took a turn for the worse. My vision issues have only rapidly increased since then.

I exactly remember that day when I was 5, when I noticed that something was seriously off with my vision. I just simply couldn't continue art class because Everything was too blurry,especially the TV infront of me that I was supposed to be watching,so I could observe the basics of color mixing on the vhs tape the art teacher had put on. I was stationed at the very front row, and yet I couldn't see clearly what was right in front of me. I immediately notified the teacher, and she teacher had to pause the lesson and take me to the school nurse,so an school faculty member could inform my mother of the incident and take me to get my vision tested. I had gotten my first pair of glasses sometime following the optometrist appointment.

Everything only got worse after that.

So you'll have to excuse me for any typos or my slow responses,I cant help it. I'm working as best as I can to do a good job at typing. It's not easy work,it takes a lot out of me.

#text #vision impaired #vision loss #blindness #actually disabled #physical disability #physically disabled #pic #long post #wall of text

5 notes · View notes

tiny-tigers · 11 months

Note

Okay so yes a lot to discuss - Freddie indeed just points and presses click, those pictures are not pictures. Also the zooming out feature they all seem to be doing now does nothing for their feet. Although I think his would be a strange shape with or without sport 😅 Kind of like how he has no arse whatsoever, its just all leg. Those Wales pics actually did him a favour, any lower and you'd be able to see that its literally JUST LEG 😂

That report about that incident in Revolution is naht good (also pretty sure that's where that pic with M.W was taken 😒) so its clearly their regular after game spot. But I say its not good because they don't write articles about police arriving somewhere for smashed glasses, and the comment of "no customers or staff were assaulted" leads me to believe that there was clearly a scuffle amongst *themselves*. I've watched that many rugby podcasts and they ask players about the worst fight they've seen and its ALWAYS between teammates on nights out. Someone overdoes it on the drink, winds up another one, and it kicks off because they're all so comfortable with one another. So the fact the club have even commented on it shows that the lads had perhaps sorted it out before the police arrived...

Also May 15th, wouldn't that have been the Monday after the loss where they all had a drink on the pitch at Welford road?

Yes I missed you eh,

They all seem to have giant legs is it a filter or something ??? J's feet are always okay when they are not on birks he takes care of it it's just the second toe being extremely long that scares me a little and looks like an E.T foot. But FRED !?? 🤢🤮 omg the swimming pool one. He Will have some fetichist soon enough but for me it is a turn off like Massive. A bit of a phobia.

Hairy ass tho 🤣😂 yeah sorry but it was a massive let down I thought in Wales he was more shaped I wasn't impressed that is vaguely what I thought to that weird man who tried to prank me with a fake trade of nudes from Fred and I was like dude we saw all on national tv . Hum hum I don't think I Will ever see it but j's omg it is his best feature because of all the squats as a scrum half and 🌰🍑 dyiiiin😭 he looks divine or quirky on all pictures and everyone noticed because his followings have exploded : men women ... (is this also a good indicator that a lot of gay men follows him 🤔 just adding elements to my case yaknow)

Oh nonononono I think you got it all wrong.. 15th May Fred anon 15 th May !!!

It was J's birthday !! I really think it wasn't a fight between them but they might have been overboard because it was his bday and also the bday of another tigers player and the last time they were seeing some of the players for a long time at a party with all the leavers. He was fresh like a daisy the next morning at that party on pitch and he has seen some posts of mine around midnight that day so he wasn't too far gone it is on the 15th that I lost track of him for 9 days so I remember it well. I really think it was nothing. Didn't knew the bar tho one new address thing for pilgrimage 🤣

0 notes

marjansmarwani · 2 years

Note

Any or all of the questions you can answer on “taken by the tide of the morning light”

It feels like it's been so long since I wrote this one (turns out it's been almost exactly a year, who knew), but I will give all the questions a try.

taken by the tide of morning light

How long did it take you to write this fic?

I don't think it took me all that long once I had an idea, but it was for a bthb square and getting an idea to fill the square/request took a lot longer than writing the fic did

What program did you use to write this fic (Word, Google Docs, etc)? Is that the program you use for all your fics?

Google Docs, and yes. I can't believe I ever functioned without it.

Where did you write this fic? Is that your favorite spot to write?

I vaguely recall writing a good chunk of this one on the patio of the coffee shop by my apartment because the weather was too nice to stay inside. But I do enjoy writing there, so sure!

What do you need to write? Is there anything special you need to do/have to help your creative flow?

Silence. It's unfortunate but I cannot focus with any TV or too many other distractions. Music sometimes is okay, it really depends. Mostly silence and solitude help the most.

What inspired the idea for the plot?

@morganaspendragonss requested this bthb square and I know she asked for TK whump, but beyond that probably just talking to friends and a desire to see Carlos and Gabriel working together.

What inspired the title for this fic? Is that usually how you choose titles?

It's a lyric from "Solitary Sparks" by Fortunate Ones and yes, I'd say 98% of my fic titles come from lyrics. I have a doc that is a running list of lines from songs I think would make good titles and when I can't think of a title (aka every fic) I scroll through it to pick one. Best thing I have ever done as a writer honestly.

Was there anything from canon that you pulled for this fic?

Probably? I can't think of anything specific but I'm sure there is.

Share a screenshot of the original outline (if you dareee😈)

I don't have it or I would! I start my outlines in the docs I end up writing in and then delete bullet points as I complete them, so my outlines are self-destructing.

Was there a scene that you hadn’t originally planned to include? Why did you decide to fit it in?

I can't remember exactly, but I am pretty sure I added one more TK in captivity scene than I meant to because I needed it to be balanced when I split one of Carlos's scenes into two. But a fic like this with alternating povs, I tend to stick pretty close to my original outline.

Was there a scene you wished you could have included? Why didn’t it fit in?

I would have liked to do some firefam scenes when we find out TK is missing and after he's found, but it just didn't fit with the story I wanted to tell.

Was there anything you had to research for this fic? Do you usually do a lot of research?

I always research for fics (my google search history is interesting, to say the least), but for this one I think I was researching arteries to figure out where it would be bad for TK to be stabbed but would also make sense for his situation.

What was the easiest scene to write?

The scene with Nancy and Carlos where they discover TK is missing. I do not know why but I do remember it being the first one.

What was the hardest scene to write?

Probably the last scene because I always struggle with endings.

Is this one of your personal favorite fics? Why or why not?

I don't dislike it, but it's definitely not in my top 10. But that's the problem when you've written 121 fics for a fandom, not all of them can be your favorites.

What is something you wish more people noticed about this fic?

How meticulously planned out it all was. And by that, I mean the kidnapping and resulting rescue. I put a ton of thought into it.

What is something you didn’t expect people to notice or gravitate towards in this fic?

Maybe how much everyone seemed to enjoy the way I wrote Gabriel? I think it was my first time writing him and I was really pleased by the reception of that, but surprised too.

Does personal experience ever inspire your fics? What about this particular fic?

It does, often (not just with the teacher au but definitely with the teacher AU), but I can't think of a way in which it applies here. Thankfully I have little experience with being kidnapped and/or tortured.

Did you have a beta reader(s) for this fic? How did they help you during the writing process?

Again it was a year ago, but according to the tumblr post Jamie beta'd it and chances are I talked through a lot of the plot points with them too, because that's how just about every fic I used to write went.

Did you write every scene in order? What was the first scene you wrote, and what was the last?

I never write in order. I think I've written from start to finish maybe twice.

I know the Carlos and Nancy scene was the first scene I wrote, but I think for this one the end may have actually been what I wrote last.

Is there anything you would change now about this fic? Why or why not?

I think it is solid and it tells a good story, but if I tried it again I might expand on some parts a little more. But that's how I keep ending up with massive fics, so maybe not.

(I skipped a few questions, but that is most of them Anon!)

behind the scenes fic asks

#ask games #anonymous #anymore that come in I'll answer at some point tomorrow #because I have a long day (of pride!) tomorrow #and need to sleep #but I will answer them!

1 note · View note

poisonedapples · 3 years

Text

Patton’s Home For Traumatized Kids - Chapter Five

Bad Memories Don’t Erase

Chapter Summary: Roman tags along with Logan and Virgil to hang out at their friend’s house.

First Chapter Previous Chapter Story Masterlist

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of past abuse, stealing, and one inappropriate joke

Word Count: 4,008

Taglist: @shade-romeo, @grayson-22, @pixelated-pineapple, @acrobaticcatfeline, @astrozei, @edupunkn00b, @princey-7258, @eternalmoonlight19, @remy-the-lemon-berry, @look-ma-im-on-tv, @mariniacipher, @bigwendymonster, @nonbinary-octopus

Notes: This chapter’s a little short, but the next one is gonna be really long, so hopefully that makes up for it

On Sunday the next day, Patton finally took Roman to buy his gym clothes. Roman was trying to hide a goofy smile while sitting in the back seat, desperate to not get his hopes up while also ecstatic his plan was working so far. He was going to have Patton stay in the car while Roman shopped for clothes! This had never worked on his dad before!

By the time Patton finally parked the car in the parking lot of the store, Roman’s chest felt weighted from his anxiety, waiting to see Patton’s final verdict. So long as he didn’t change his mind now, then Roman was in the clear. He hoped to be in the clear.

“Alright, kiddo,” Roman’s heart stopped as Patton pulled out his wallet and gave him some money. “Forty dollars should be more than enough for some pairs of gym pants and shirts. Give me back all the change when you come back, okay?”

“I will! Promise!” Roman wanted to jump for joy. It was working!

“Text me when you’re checking out so you don’t surprise me, and if you see something else you might want, just text me before you buy it so I know. Tell me if you have any issues, okay?”

“Okay!”

Patton smiled. “Go on then, kiddo.”

Roman practically leaped out the door to skip his way to the front entrance of the clothing store, two twenty dollar bills crumbled in his pocket. He got away with it! No parents staring him down while he changed outfits!

Roman walked into the store and tried to hide the skip in his step. With no parents to watch him, he could buy what he actually wanted to wear, no tight pants and scoop neck shirts. No, Roman wanted to look like his real goal. His goal of being a blob of cloth that vaguely resembled a human.

Granted, he’d mostly gotten there. His aunt replaced all of his wardrobe, so his current clothes were a lot more comfortable to wear even if they weren’t very fashionable. Mostly bright colored t-shirts and pants, maybe some shorts if they were able to reach down far enough. Maybe once he was more comfortable with himself he could actually test out more styles, but for now, oversized clothes were all he could handle.

Roman’s walk sped up slightly when his eyes landed on the men’s athletic section. He had to be quick with this, he didn’t want Patton getting impatient and coming in to check on him. Roman looked through the shorts and shirt sizes, easily finding a size up for a couple shirts while heavily struggling on the shorts. Roman groaned. It was always the shorts that caused the issue, they were always too high up. What if he was sitting down and the pant leg rode up too far? No, Roman refused to get something like that willingly.

Roman took all the athletic shorts that could fit him and held them up in front of his legs. Most of them only made it to his lower thigh, but he managed to find two shorts that made it to right below his knee. Roman smiled and bounced on his toes, grabbed his items and rushed to find a dressing room. Once he did, he rushed into the first empty area he saw and locked the door. The mirrors on the walls and gaps in the door made it hard for him to change comfortably, so instead Roman tried to press himself against the very corner of the room when he was changing.

Between the six shirts and two pants Roman found, he was pretty happy with most of his choices. Thankfully, the long shorts looked fine, so Roman hung them up on a hook with a sign over it saying I’m buying this! and considered it a success. However, when it got time to look at the shirts, only three of them were good enough for purchase. The white one he grabbed was practically see-through, and the other two had a scratchy inside material that Roman couldn’t stand, so they got put on the reject hook while the other three passed the test.

For a rushed shopping visit, Roman was pretty pleased with his choices. Two shorts might not be enough for five days worth of classes, but maybe Roman could keep one pair in his locker until it started to stink. Which might be a little gross, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Roman exited the dressing room and put his rejected shirts on a rack outside, carrying his other items to the checkout area. Before he got in line, he looked at all the price tags and added them up in his head best he could. The shirts were about six dollars each, and the shorts were a little over five after tax. Which means, adding up the extra cents, he’d have to pay twenty nine dollars for the clothes in total. Considering Patton gave him forty dollars, this was plenty.

Roman hesitated for a second. He stuffed his hand into his pocket to feel the money in the palm of his hand while he thought about his options. If he told Patton the truth, Roman would give him eleven dollars and there would be no issues. Patton might let him do this again next time they go shopping, too. But also…Roman had no backup plan. He was stuck with Patton with nowhere to go if things went wrong.

His aunt told him that Roman could always go back to her house if a guardian was abusing him, and he had every intention to take her up on that offer the second the opportunity arose. But even if Roman walked to her house on foot, he had no money for food during that trip. She lived so far away from him now, there was no way to get to safety without a dollar to his name. But if he stole some from Patton, then Roman could have a serious issue on his hands.

Roman slowly walked up to the check out area and handed the teenage worker the clothes. As she scanned all the items with a satisfying beep, Roman felt himself getting antsy. There’s no guarantee Patton will let me do this again. I’ve already gotten away with so much, and the more time I spend around him, the more danger I’m in. But if Patton notices I stole from him, he could be furious. Is there even a right answer here?

“Twenty nine dollars and thirty two cents.” The cashier said cheerfully. Roman handed her the money and she put it in the register, then handed Roman a bunch of coins, two five dollar bills, and a one dollar. She smiled. “Would you like a receipt?”

“Uh, no thank you.”

When the receipt printed, the cashier tore it out and threw it in the trash behind her. “Have a nice day.”

“You too.” Roman squeaked, rushing away from the register to stare at the money. Apparently they ran out of ten dollar bills, because the money was split perfectly for taking without it being obvious. Roman considered this a sign to take his chance. He put a five dollar bill and a quarter in his left pocket and shoved the rest in his right. It wasn’t much, but he could build it up. This was only the beginning.

Roman walked out of the store and tried to act normal instead of anxious. Worst case scenario, he’d say he forgot to bring out the rest and give Patton the other bills. Giving away the quarter also would be too obvious, but he could get away with stealing that at least. When he made it to Patton's car, Roman opened the back seat and tossed his clothes next to him.

“Hey, kiddo!” Patton greeted, “Got any extra cash to give me?”

“Uh, yeah, here.” Roman dug into his right pocket to grab half the money and handed it to him. Patton put the coins in his pocket and put the two bills in his wallet. He didn’t seem to consider how much Roman gave him, instead he started backing out of the driveway and got distracted while reversing. Roman let out a quiet sigh of relief.

He felt the five dollars still stored in his pocket. He got away with it. For now.

***

“We’re home!” Patton announced as he and Roman stepped inside. Logan and Virgil were both lying on the couch, and Logan perked up from his spot.

“Wonderful. We wanted to ask both of you a question.” Logan said.

Patton seemed intrigued. “What question?”

“Can we go to Janus’ house, Pat?” Virgil asked.

“Oh, of course, kiddos! Do you know when you might be back?”

Virgil thought about it. “Probably at six before dinner.”

“Perfect! Just text me if that changes so I don’t worry, okay?”

“We will.” Logan reassured, “And Roman, would you like to come with us?”

Roman tilted his head to the side. “Me? I don’t even know who Janice is.”

Virgil sunk into the couch more. “Friend of ours. Has a snake, talks a lot about philosophy and books. Acts like a tired underaged wine aunt.”

“Right, well, still. Isn’t it a little strange for me to tag along to a stranger's house?” Roman pointed out.

“Janus wouldn’t mind, I’m sure.” Logan said. “Of course, you don’t have to, we simply figured you would like the invitation so you’re not the only one left out.”

Roman’s eyes widened when Logan said that. Wait, shit, if Logan and Virgil are going to this girl’s house, then Roman will be here. Alone. With Patton. Until six in the afternoon.

Roman’s mood change was almost instant. “Well then, perhaps I should go! Make new friends and establish bonds, or whatever!”

Virgil smirked. “Sweet. It’s a short walk, just a block away. Just let us grab our shoes and we can head out.”

“I’ll tell Janus we’ll be bringing a third party.”

Roman let out a breath of relief. As Virgil and Logan grabbed whatever they needed, Roman set his new bag of clothes in his room next to his backpack. He’d have to remember to put some boxers in there before tomorrow morning, too.

Roman felt the five dollars in his pocket again. He took the money and hid it deep in his backpack in a hidden pocket he hoped wasn’t too easy to find. Satisfied with that for now, Roman stepped back outside of his room and waited for the others.

Once everyone was situated, Virgil called out to let Patton know they were leaving the house and then closed the door. Logan and Virgil did most of the talking as they walked while Roman just listened, following behind them and letting the two lead the way.

“Oh, and Roman,” Logan suddenly said during a point of silence, “Another one of our friends may also show up later at Janus’ house. He said he might be coming, so we’ll see.”

Roman shrugged. “Sounds fine to me.”

“Alright.”

No one said anything else after that on the walk. After a while, Virgil and Logan stopped in front of a house and started walking up the driveway to the front door. As Virgil knocked on the door, Roman stood awkwardly off to the side until someone answered.

It wasn’t long before the door swung open, showing a teenage kid with a large birthmark under his left eye. He rested his elbow on the top of the black and yellow cane next to him and smirked. Was he the brother, perhaps?

“I’ve been expecting you.” He said menacingly.

“‘Sup, fucker.” Virgil greeted.

“Hello, Janus.”

Wait, what? Against his better judgment, Roman forced himself to stand in front of Logan to face Janus. “Wait, your name is Janice?” He asked.

Janus put his hand on his face. “Janus. It’s Janus. J-a-n-u-s, not the old lady name Janice.”

Roman felt his face grow hot. “…Oh. Well, uh…”

Janus rolled his eyes and held the door open wider. “Just come inside.”

Virgil was the first to step in, with Logan following after while Roman hesitated. He made an awful first impression, maybe he should just walk around the block for a while instead-

“Come on, my arm is tired.” Janus coaxed. Roman felt too awkward to walk away, so he instead sucked it up and stepped inside the house with everyone else.

The house was quite nice. The walls were painted dark and the carpet was red, but it looked nice in a Victorian era kind of way. On the living room coffee table were piles of fabric and a sewing machine, seemingly making something that looked like a suit. Janus took the cane he was holding and threw it onto the couch. Well, apparently it was just a part of the outfit.

Virgil motioned to all the fabric on the table. “Fuck are you making now, dude?”

“I’m making the refined villain look of my dreams.”

“Nice. When do you think you’ll finish it?”

“Possibly tomorrow. I’ll start on it again after school.”

“Do you make your own clothes?” Roman asked, hoping to distract himself from his previous embarrassment.

Janus smiled slightly. “Less clothes, more costumes. Mostly for myself, but sometimes I make them for the high school’s theater when I’m feeling generous.”

“Oh, that sounds fun!”

“Wanna see Janus’ costume closet?” Virgil asked.

Roman shrugged. “If he wants me to.”

“Oh yeah, just talk about me like I’m not here.” Janus rolled his eyes and motioned for everyone to follow him. He had a downstairs family room with a closet off to the side. Once everyone was downstairs, Janus opened it and let Roman look inside.

“…Woah.” Roman looked at all the costumes, astonished and full of wonder. A lot of them were very extravagant, like they were specifically designed for a dramatic person, so Roman felt a calling toward them. He took a few of them off their hangers to look at; roaring twenties inspired suits and a black dresses with fancy gold finishes. Roman ran his hand on the fabric like they were fancy relics.

“They are quite high-quality.” Logan said, “Costume design is certainly one of Janus’ greatest skills.”

“I can see that.” Roman whispered.

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Don’t make his ego bigger than it already is.”

“Oh no, please do continue, I’m designed to be the center of attention.” Janus smirked.

Roman laughed and put the costumes back on the rack. It seemed like him and Janus were pretty similar in personality, just on opposite ends of the spectrum. Both dramatic artists, except one likes to add that with tons of sarcasm. He could see them getting along quite easily.

“Also, Janus,” Virgil said while looking at his phone, “Rat bastard says he’s coming over. He’ll be here in ten.”

“Ugh, fine. I was getting used to the silence.” Janus sighed.

“…Who’s rat bastard?” Roman asked.

“Friend of ours.” Virgil replied, “You’ll meet him in a bit. He’s a rat bastard. Smells vaguely of cheese.”

“…Attractive.”

“You get used to it.” Janus shrugged. He then smirked at Roman like he got an idea. “Would you like to see my snake?”

Roman’s eyes lit up. “Yes!”

Janus led them all upstairs to his bedroom, Roman following last in the line so he could keep Janus’ door cracked open. As he stepped inside, he noticed a very large cage on the wall to his right. It was very long with lots of wood decorations spread across the container, with a fluorescent lightbulb above it. Roman looked around in the enclosure to try and spot the snake.

Before he could find it, Janus opened the top and stuck his hand in the cage. The snake climbed up his hand onto his arm, and as Janus stuck him out for Roman to see, Roman jumped back.

Janus rolled his eyes. “He’s a corn snake, he’s not known for hurting people.”

Roman still looked at it from a distance. The snake was large enough that Janus had to hold him with both hands, as well as being a mesmerizing yellow color. Roman never had a friend with a pet snake before. “…What’s his name?”

“Lawrence.”

“Nerd.” Virgil called out.

Logan smiled. “I think it is a wonderful name. Lawrence Kohlberg developed the theory on moral development, the very basis for ethical behavior.”

“Nerds.”

“You’re very mature, Virgil.”

Roman ignored them. “I think he’s cool. How old is he?”

“About five. I’ve had him for a while now.”

A buzz came from Virgil’s phone, making him check it and read the message. “Rat bastard says he’s outside your door.” He announced.

Janus didn’t seem rushed. “He can get in on his own.”

Roman laughed, and Janus set Lawrence back in his enclosure so he could bask underneath the heat lamp. Roman still watched his movements from inside the cage. “I wish I had a pet.”

“Patton would get you a dog in seconds if you asked.” Logan suggested.

Roman shook his head. “It’s fine, I won’t ask.” He didn’t really know what kind of pet he even wanted, and besides, it’s not like he’d be able to keep it once he leaves Patton’s house. There was no point.

Suddenly, a loud stomping came from the stairs outside Janus’ bedroom. Roman yelped and ran to hide behind Janus in the corner of the room, but the others didn’t react.

Roman sputtered. “What the-”

Before Roman could finish, a large bang came as someone kicked open the door and let it smack into the wall.

“I’m back by unpopular demand!”

“Hello, Remus.”

Roman completely froze up at the sound of that name. He turned around to look at the person that just busted down Janus’ bedroom door, a kid with messy hair and peach fuzz for a mustache, ripped jeans in the summer with a cast boot on his right foot.

Roman felt himself choke on air as he processed what was in front of him.

“Slugs are goopy like jello! So jello is made of slugs, duh!”

“Remus, that’s gross! No one would make food out of slugs!”

“What’s up, fuckers!” Remus announced. “I’m back from the pits of hell! Also known as the emergency room.”

Roman didn’t say anything, only stared at him in disbelief. Remus’ voice was a lot different now. He’d hit puberty, so the pitch had dropped a lot from what Roman was used to. A tuft of his hair was white, also. Roman couldn’t tell if it was dye or a condition.

That piece of hair and Remus’ mustache were the only things that made them both look apart now.

“What actually happened?” Logan asked. “You never told us specifics.”

“I broke my foot sucking too much-”

“Remus.” Janus warned.

“Fine, fine. I tripped trying to run up some steps and my fall didn’t look badass at all. Don’t tell people that though. If anyone asks, I broke it running from the cops.”

Janus nodded and smirked. “Noted.”

“We brought a third foster brother, also.” Virgil noted. Roman stopped breathing.

“Oh, really? Shit, I fuckin missed everything!” Roman looked in the corner trying to avoid Remus noticing him, but it was never that easy. “Why hello, welcome to our humble- …Oh, fuck.”

Remus tilted his head to make eye contact with Roman, and the surprise on Remus’ face was something Roman would never forget. He seemed genuinely baffled, like nothing in the world would have prepared him for what he saw. Roman wanted to cry.

I wanted to leave behind these people.

“…Roman?” Remus finally said, “Dude, holy fuck, I haven’t seen you in forever!”

“Wait,” Virgil staggered, “You know each other already?”

“He’s my fucking cousin!” Remus exclaimed. “Come on, look at us, we’re only a little related but we look like twins!”

Logan turned to Roman. “Is this true?”

Roman could feel the tears ready to burst. His throat was scratchy, but he tried to talk anyway. “…I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Come on, Princey, don’t be shy!” Remus teased. “We used to be best friends, let everyone believe we were twins until our moms called our shit out. Absolute bastard children- …wait. Wait a fucking second.”

“What is it?” Janus asked.

Remus turned to Virgil and Logan with a shocked and confused face. “…You said he’s your foster brother?”

Logan nodded. “That is correct.”

Remus turned to Roman, seemingly at a loss for words. “…Dude, the fuck? What happened?”

Roman looked at the floor, gripping onto his arm so hard it’d be a miracle if there weren’t marks later. “I said I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I mean, I know I haven’t seen you since your mom fucked off to Neverland, but what happened to your dad? He’s still alive and shit isn’t he? The hell happened?”

“I said I don’t want to fucking talk about it!” Roman seethed, grinding his teeth together as he practically growled out that sentence.

Virgil flinched violently. “Roman-”

“Whatever!” Roman pushed Remus off to the side and kicked the door fully open, storming his way down the stairs despite the sounds of people yelling for him to come back. Roman stomped out the front door and took a sprint for it down the block, not caring if he had to be alone with Patton, so long as he wasn’t here.

“I bet you would eat a slug!”

“No I wouldn’t! Liar!”

“Boys, boys!” Roman’s mother laughed, crouching down to meet their eye level from their place sitting in the grass. “No eating slugs. Be nice to the bugs or we’ll go back inside.”

“Yeah, Remus!”

Remus huffed. “I’m not doing anything!”

“Not yet!”

Roman’s mother laughed again. “I’m going to help Uncle André with dinner. But I better not hear a fight, okay?”

“Okay!” Roman promised, watching as his mom went back inside his uncle’s house into the kitchen. Roman and Remus continued to play in the grass by looking at bugs and telling stories to each other, making Roman smile more than he has in a long time. He always loved going to Remus’ house. His dad never came with them, so he and his mom were always happier.

“How come we never go to your house?” Remus eventually asked after a few minutes of playing. Roman stuck his tongue out.

“‘Cause our house is tiny and the backyard isn’t as cool.”

“Still! When you come over, you never bring Uncle Theo!”

“Good!” Roman defended, “Dad’s boring so he doesn't getta come!”

“I like him! He’s fun and nice and always brings chocolate!”

“He’s awful!” Roman covered his mouth after he blurted that out. Remus gave him a look.

“He’s not awful!”

Roman looked over to the glass sliding door. His mom was in there, he could see her, but she couldn’t hear him. Maybe he could get away with it. He could tell Remus a secret and his mom would never find out.

Roman hesitantly took his hands away from his mouth. His tone grew to be a lot softer. “…He is, though.”

Remus tilted his head to the side like a dog. “What makes him awful?”

“…Promise not to tell anyone?”

Remus leaned in closer. “Uh huh!”

“No one at all, ever?”

“Triple quadruple promise!”

Roman looked back at his mom. She wasn’t paying attention to him, seemingly talking to his uncle and pouring juice into cups. Roman hesitated for a moment. “…My dad-”

“Boys! Dinner’s ready!” Roman’s mom called out, making Roman jump almost a foot in the air. Both of them got off of the grass to walk inside, but before they did, Remus turned to Roman again.

“Your dad what?”

“…Nevermind.” He missed his chance. Remus would never find out, and Roman never told anyone for another five years.

Roman ran faster down the street at the memory, fighting back the tears in his eyes. It was fine. Roman was fine.

He never wanted to talk to Remus again.

#roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #thomas sanders #ts roman #ts patton #ts logan #ts virgil #ts remus #ts janus #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #foster au #implied past abuse #past abuse #stealing

150 notes · View notes

hookingminor · 3 years

Note

“In awe, the first time you realised it” with Mat Barzal please🥺

31. In awe, the first time you realised it

I swear all my favorite things I've written are for barz, this is also so self-indulgent for me bc my love language is playlists

You and Mat had been dating for just under a year now, still in the honeymoon phase of your relationship even after a few fights, and he swore you were the only person he would never get tired of. The weekends you spent at his apartment, the Saturday morning markets you always dragged him to, the nights he curled on your couch watching TV while you worked away at the kitchen table, there was no such thing as too much time with you.

The feeling nagged at the back of Mat’s mind, subtle and quiet, a distant voice telling him he was in love with you even if his brain hadn’t completely registered it yet. Your relationship was comfortable. You moved around each other with an ease Mat had never known, as if you’d spent years together and now lived in routines that revolved around the other. He hadn’t even processed how used to being around you he’d gotten until your first summer apart had hit.

He thought about you all the time, wondering whether or not you’d like the outfit he chose when he went out with friends, whether you’d enjoy his mom’s cooking, whether you were thinking about him all the way back in New York when he was in Coquitlam.

By the time fall came back around, he was ready to ask you to move in even if neither of you had said those words yet. Mat just missed you all the time. It didn’t matter how much time you spent apart, he was counting the hours until he saw you again.

It was only when the two of you packed your bags and climbed into his car, ready for a weekend road trip upstate that the overwhelming feeling of how much he loved you hit him. You chose to drive, knowing Mat’s proclivities for driving a little too fast would’ve made you insane during the four hour ride to the secluded cabin he rented. In turn, he got to choose the music, though you made him compromise that he’d split the time between both of your spotifys.

Yours and Mat’s music taste didn’t always mesh well, and while he knew your account and followed it, he never delved into the playlists you curated. At the two hour mark, he unlocked your phone and scrolled through your account, clicking through a few playlists as he tried to find one that he wouldn’t completely hate.

He came across one titled happiness, the playlist photo piquing his curiosity. It was a little further down the list, about halfway through your nearly twenty playlists, and he recognized the picture as his own head. There were no discernible features, only his hair as his head rested on your chest and your fingers curled in the strands, but Mat knew it was him.

One by one, he read over each song in the playlist. The theme seemed all over the place, ranging from slow songs to upbeat pop to hip-hop, and his curiosity got the best of him.

“Babe, what’s this playlist?” He asked, stretching your phone so you could check the screen. You only took a brief glance, noticing the title immediately and shifting your focus back to the road.

“Oh, it’s just a bunch of songs that remind me of you,” you answered with an apathetic shrug. You added the first song a week after you met Mat after your first date when you knew that you wouldn’t be letting him go any time soon.

Mat furrowed his brows, not quite sure what Christmas Eve by Kelly Clarkson or Ain’t No Mountain High Enough by Marvin Gaye had to do with him, but he pressed shuffle anyways.

The first song that came on was Flightless Bird, American Mouth, and Mat vaguely remembered hearing this before.

“Why’s this one on it?” He asked.

“Remember when I made you watch Twilight even though you complained the entire time? You said you thought this song sounded nice, so I added it,” you explained.

“And Bloom?” Mat questioned, finding another song title he didn’t know.

“It was a song that played in the cafe during our first date.”

“Shoop?”

“That one night we stayed up until three baking brownies because we were drunk and hungry, we sang it, like, four times dancing in the kitchen,” you said.

It turned out every song on the playlist had some underlying meaning as to why you added it. There was the song you first slow danced to at a teammate’s wedding, the song you chose to karaoke to once at a bar, the song Mat always played first thing upon turning on his car for a couple weeks whenever he drove anywhere, songs he found himself singing under his breath while not realizing you were listening, his favorite Taylor Swift songs even though he would publicly claim he didn’t listen to her, songs he went crazy for every time they played in clubs. Every song had a story.

Mat didn’t ask you for the explanation for each one, not wanting to annoy you with his many questions, but he connected the dots soon enough after you told him Green Light by Lorde was on there because of how many times you and Mat had watched through New Girl, but more specifically, the scene where Nick and Jess finally get together.

A few sparked memories in his own head, the Khalid songs you made him listen to the one time you convinced him to get high with you, the Kendrick songs he swore were the best rap songs ever made, even a few Bieber songs you found more tolerable than others since you weren’t a fan of him but Mat was.

The playlist was nearing fifty songs, all recounting moments in your relationship over the past year, and Mat’s chest tightened in a way he’d never felt before.

He was in love with you.

You didn’t even bat an eye explaining the meaning of each song, every story fresh in your mind and you told him each one without hesitation. Had it not been for your eyes on the road, you probably would’ve noticed the tears welling in his eyes, though he quickly brushed them away.

His heart was so full of love for you, how you paid attention to every detail, and there was no doubt in his mind he was in love.

“You good?” You glanced over quickly, curious as to why he was quiet all of a sudden.

“Yeah, I’m good.” He cleared his throat.

“I love you.”

That caught your attention immediately, and you looked back at him, your own eyebrows slightly drawn together in confusion as the outburst.

“Yeah?” You asked. The words had been on the tip of your tongue for so long you could probably trace it back to the first time you met him, but you kept it to yourself. Mat was always cautious with his words, never wanting to say anything he didn’t fully believe, and you didn’t want to scare him off saying it too early.

“Yeah,” he replied confidently. Grabbing the hand resting on the gearshift, he intertwined your fingers and brought it to his lips. “I love you." Gently, Mat kissed your knuckles.

Your own heart felt like bursting at the soft look on his face. “I love you too.”

“Yeah, I kind of figured that,” he chuckled, wide grins spreading across both of your faces.

You brought his knuckles to your own lips, placing a soft kiss on them before letting your joined hands rest across the middle console. The remainder of the drive was silent, neither of you starting a conversation as you let your playlist take you the rest of the way.

#mat barzal #mat barzal imagine #nhl imagines #hockey imagine #my writing #requests #blurbs #isles13 #2k blurb weekend

397 notes · View notes

haikyuu-scenarios-drabbles · 3 years

Text

you weren’t supposed to hear that (F! reader)

A collection of instances where your roommate hears you moaning their name whilst your fingers are between your legs. Or your neighbor. Or maybe you walk in on them saying your name. Take your pick 😈

warnings: NSFW, manga spoilers (in terms of what the boys do post timeskip) words: 9.7k (oops)

a/n: wow it’s been awhile since I wrote one of these!! This has been half finished for a while and i finally got the inspiration to complete it. please enjoy!! 💖

Other parts: Kuroo | Sakusa

Ushijima Wakatoshi

Being Ushijima’s roommate is fairly simple. He’s easy to get along with once you get past his jarring frankness and strict regime. Seriously, the guy never changes his routine; working out at 6am, breakfast at 8, leaving for practice at 9, home at 5, dinner at 7, and in bed by 9 o’clock. He’s a machine, but you don’t mind his predictability. It certainly makes your life easier being able to plan around his tried-and-true schedule.

You saw his ad for a roommate a few months ago when you were desperate to get out of your parents’ house and into the world. They weren’t too keen on the idea of you living with a man, but upon meeting Ushijima, they changed their minds quickly. Neither of them able to believe that stoic Ushijima Wakatoshi would ever lay a hand on you. Plus, the deal was far too good to pass up, he is seriously underselling the room you’re currently renting; and there’s the bonus that he’s frequently absent at away games, leaving the entire apartment for you to enjoy alone.

You learned quickly to keep your mouth shut on who exactly your roommate is, never inviting anyone over anymore in fear of them finding out from the various volleyball paraphernalia Ushijima so sparsely decorates the apartment with. It became difficult for you to tell if people you just met actually liked you, or if they just wanted a glimpse of the infamous Ushijima Wakatoshi and maybe an autograph. And don’t even get you started on his fangirls that he’s so oblivious about.

To your surprise, he was indifferent about having a roommate of the opposite sex. You thought for sure he’d try to ‘keep your honor’ or some shit like that, but all he’d asked you was what your job was to make sure you can pay rent, if you were tidy, and if you didn’t mind being alone. He’d seemed satisfied with your answers, and you’d moved in the following week.

The first and only time Ushijima has someone over, you get home from work surprised to see an interesting looking character standing in the kitchen across from him. They both look up at you, Ushijima giving you a slight nod in greeting while a wide smile spreads across his friends’ face.

“Ushiwaka! You didn’t mention your roommate is that pretty!”

Ushijima blinks as if he’s never considered that about you before, while you chuckle. “Ushi…waka?” You don’t think you’ve ever heard anyone refer to him in such a casual manner before.

The red-head beams, slinging an arm around Ushijima that he surprisingly allows. “Yup, me and Wakatoshi have been friends since high school!”

Now it’s your turn to blink, never having expected Ushijima to have friends outside of volleyball. Especially not ones who call him by his first name. In fact, you don’t even know if he considers any of his teammate’s friends either. He doesn’t spend any time with them outside of volleyball (that you know of) and so far, this is the first person he’s brought to the apartment since you moved in.

“Well,” the visitor nudges Ushijima in the side, who’s expression hasn’t changed throughout this entire interaction. “Are you going to introduce me or what?”

Finally, Ushijima speaks, his deep voice rumbling through your chest as he says, “This is Tendo, we played volleyball together in high school.” He doesn’t show it, but he notices your piqued interest at that information.

“Oh?” You say, “Do you still play?”

Tendo waves his hand dismissively, “Nah, it wasn’t for me. And I’m nothing compared to golden boy over here.”

You try to hide your amusement. This is definitely not what you were expecting from one of Ushijima’s friends. Tendo is rather enjoyable and chatty, much unlike the stone of a man sitting beside him.

“Tendo is a chocolatier in Paris,” Ushijima supplies.

Now you can’t hide your surprise. “Wow! That’s really amazing. What are you doing in Japan then?”

“Just visiting,” he beams. “And of course, I had to see my best friend Wakatoshi-kun.”

“Are you going to his game tomorrow?” You ask, ignoring the way Ushijima’s attention focuses on you. He didn’t think you paid much attention to his volleyball schedule besides when he’s going to be away.

Tendo nods excitedly. “Wouldn’t miss it! You should come too!”

You open your mouth to give some excuse, but then close it again at Tendo’s expectant expression. You bite your lip nervously; in the time you’ve been living with Ushijima you’ve never once actually seen him play. There’s a part of you that avoids it, fearful you might become one of his dreaded fangirls. But you can’t refuse Tendo’s invitation, and to Ushijima’s surprise, you agree to attend.

Clapping his hands together Tendo says, “We get to sit in Ushiwaka’s special seats! Maybe I’ll bring some chocolates for us to snack on…” And when he sees your eyes light up at that, he smiles again, “Chocolate for the lady, done.”

You laugh, and then Tendo is seeing himself out, telling you he can’t wait to see you both tomorrow. And once he’s gone, you can’t help feeling like you don’t know what to with yourself now. Not with Ushijima’s stare boring into your back. After a minute he says, “You don’t have to come.”

And if this had been the first week you’d known him, you might’ve taken that a little personally. But knowing him, he thinks he’s just stating something. He doesn’t see how it can be interpreted as him not wanting you there. “No, it sounds fun! And Tendo seems nice.”

“Tendo is very kind,” he states, and you have to resist the urge to chuckle at him. Ushijima is not a man of words and if that had come out of anyone else’s mouth you would’ve thought they were little strange. But in the months of living with him, despite your limited interactions, you’ve gotten used to his mannerisms.

Looking away from him, you start retreating down the hallway to the safety of your room, but before you disappear you say one more thing. “Plus, I’ve never seen you play.” Then you’re gone, not to be seen for the rest of the night. You don’t see him watch you until you’re out of sight. If you had, you would’ve been shocked by his dumbfounded expression at how the small smile you gave him made his heart stutter for a moment.

Ushijima has to leave much earlier than you do for the game, but he informs you that Tendo will be by to pick you up and go to the game together. Then, for the first time probably ever, he bids you goodbye and tells you he’ll see you afterwards.

Tendo comes by the apartment a few hours later, sporting an Ushijima jersey and a box of chocolates he asks to hide in your bag. For having just met him yesterday, he easily leads the conversation, asking you all sorts of things—though he seems particularly interested in your relationship with Ushijima. You try to assure him it’s nothing. Really, you aren’t even sure if you can consider Ushijima your friend. Right now, you’re pretty much strictly roommates and that’s it.

When you let it slip that you’ve never seen Ushijima play, Tendo is shocked. “Really? Not even on TV or anything?”

You shake your head. “Nope! I guess I never thought of it.” The lie slips through your teeth easily and Tendo doesn’t bat an eye at it.

Though he does grin telling you, “You’re in for a treat then! Have you ever watched volleyball at all?”

Your regretfully admit to him that no—you’ve never seen a game. You do vaguely remember the rules from high school, but they’re a bit fuzzy now. Tendo tells you not to worry and spends the rest of the train ride to the stadium filling you in on all the aspects of volleyball. And the more he talks, the more excited you get.

When you finally enter the stadium, Tendo is amusingly proud to show off your VIP tickets to be allowed entrance to the special seats reserved solely for Ushijima’s guests. To your delight, they’re some of the best seats in the house and you and Tendo get to work on the chocolates you snuck in while you wait for the game to start. Already the stadium is buzzing with excitement and you can feel your own continue to grow.

Meanwhile, Ushijima hasn’t said a word that he has visitors today. So, it comes as a complete surprise to his teammates when a chorus of cheers erupts from his seats when he enters the stadium. He doesn’t take note of how shocked his teammates are—he’s never had any spectators before. And none of them ever expected one of them to be a girl.

“So, who’re your friends?” Heiwajima asks during warm-ups, nudging Ushijima in the side and motioning his head towards you and Tendo.

“Isn’t that Tendo-san?” Kageyama notes, his own eyes up in the stands.

Without looking upwards, Ushijima replies, “It is.”

Heiwajima rolls his eyes. “Yeah, we aren’t so interested in him as we are the beauty sitting next to him.”

Now Ushijima lifts his attention, eyes drifting to you. He hasn’t told anyone on the team he has a roommate. Not because he has any reason to hide you, but there has never been a reason for him to bring you up. So, he doesn’t think much of it when he says, “That’s my roommate.” And then introduces you.

Everyone on the teams’ eyes nearly bug out of their heads at that information.

“Ushijima, you bastard!”

His brow furrows. Why is he a bastard? You’re just his roommate. And he never lied to anyone about you, nobody ever asked.

“Keeping that a secret from us this whole time!”

He ponders that. He wasn’t really trying to keep any secret. “It’s not a secret,” he says. “You never asked.”

The team guffaws at him and continues to grill him about you until Hirugami claps his hands and tells everyone to focus on the match. They’ll have plenty of time to discuss Ushijima’s secret roommate later. Again, Ushijima tries to explain it you were never a secret, but Hirugami brushes him off and tells him to start spiking warm-ups.

It isn’t hard for him to ignore you and Tendo during the game. He’s used to having nobody here for him, so he just treats it like any other day. It’s nothing special, he’ll play the way he usually does. Meanwhile, up in the stands, you can’t keep your eyes off him. You finally see why he works so hard, and maybe understand him a bit better.

He loves volleyball, you know that—but seeing him in action really drives it home. He’s a machine. Every time he serves or spikes you swear the other team’s arms are going to rip off from the force of the ball. And the sound that ricochets in the stadium when the ball connects solidly with the floor is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. It’s like a clap of thunder rattling your bones and before you know it, you’re cheering loudly alongside Tendo with no qualms.

It’s exciting being here. You can feel your heart racing in your chest each time the Adlers or the other team is at a critical point, and sometimes you catch yourself holding your breath in anticipation for the outcome. You never thought watching a sport could be so thrilling.

And Ushijima is incredible. You suspected as much, but actually watching him for the first time is something else. You can’t help gobbling up the sight of him, his powerful thighs thrusting him into the air when he jumps, his biceps on display when his hand connects with the ball—and above it all, that sharp look in his eyes that sends goosebumps prickling down your spine without your permission. If Tendo notices you shamelessly ogling your roommate at all, he doesn’t comment.

He's oblivious to the fact he’s actually playing a lot more intensely than he usually does. Which some of his teammates never imagined possible. And most of them, besides the clueless ones alongside Ushijima, have a pretty good idea what’s different about this game. Though they can’t pinpoint if it’s just a result of having spectators in general, or if it’s you specifically.

The Adlers come out victorious after four hard sets, winning the first and second, but then having to snag the win in the fourth. You watch as the team gets swarmed by reporters looking for a post-game interview and Tendo tugs on your arm telling you that Ushijima is going to meet you by the locker room. You must give him a surprised look because he holds up the card dangling around his neck with a grin. “VIP, remember?” You giggle and follow him out.

In the locker room, Heiwajima and others try desperately to invite him, you, and Tendo out with them after the game. But he has to decline, you three already have plans. And he doesn’t wait around to see their disappointed expressions as he heads out of the room to look for you and Tendo. He finds the two of you nearby and once you catch sight of him, a smile splits your face in two.

“That was amazing, Ushijima! I’ve never had so much fun watching a sport before!” You gush once he’s in earshot.

“Volleyball is very fun.” He nods as the three of you head towards the exit. Ushijima purposefully avoids the spots he knows he is likely to be ambushed by reporters or fans, opting for a back exit instead that he sometimes uses when he wants to make a quiet escape.

“I had no idea being left-handed was such an advantage! Tendo told me it really throws people off apparently.”

Tendo sneaks him a smile and then throws an arm around his shoulder. “So, where is the great Ushiwaka takin’ us for dinner?”

You end up at a nice restaurant not too far away, and of course Ushijima gets recognized a couple times being this close to the stadium. He politely agrees to autographs and declines photos, seemingly unaware to the fact they’re just taking them secretly when they return to their tables. And while you’re waiting for your food to arrive, you can’t seem to stop talking about volleyball. Admitting that you’ll probably watch a few more of his games from home now and even cover your face in embarrassment when Tendo suggests you get your own Ushijima jersey to wear in support.

It’s then that Ushijima realizes he very much enjoys listening to you talk about what you thought of volleyball. Though he does feel heat creeping up his neck at the thought of you wearing one of his jerseys. All the while, Tendo is sitting beside you smirking up a storm, and Ushijima can’t for the life of him place why.

After dinner, when you’re walking a bit ahead of them and out of earshot, Tendo nudges him playfully in the side. “She’s pretty great, right?”

He looks at your back, expression unchanging. “She’s a good roommate.”

Tendo groans dramatically. “No blockhead—like, she’s pretty great, if you know what I mean.”

He blinks. “Do you want to ask her out?” Tendo can’t help slapping himself on the forehead. Who was he to think that Ushijima has any idea you are available, and he has a very high chance with you?

“Not me,” Tendo spells out slowly. “You.”

“I don’t want to ask her out.”

Tendo’s thin brows lift. “Are you sure about that?”

Tendo doesn’t miss his slight hesitation before he says, “Yes.”

And he doesn’t—you’re his roommate, and a good one. He likes having you around, but not the way Tendo seems to think.

But Tendo isn’t convinced. “Okay~,” he sing-songs before skipping up to loop his arms through yours and make you laugh about something. Ushijima thinks about that for a few minutes, why doesn’t Tendo believe him?

When you first moved in, it took a few weeks to get accustomed to each other. But once you figured out his schedule it became a lot easier. You know exactly when to hide in your room if you want to avoid him and when to come out once he’s gone. After going to his volleyball game, you especially try to avoid him during the times he’s walking down the hallway towards the shower, damp with sweat from a workout. Your brain can’t seem to function seeing him slick with the shine of sweat, his hair clinging to his forehead, and a towel draped around his neck—it’s too much for you, as much as you hate to admit.

But one week, you swear he’s on a warpath to make you a stuttering, flustered mess. Despite knowing the fact you’re certain Ushijima has no clue he can have that effect on people, much less do it on purpose. But every single day he’s waltzing around the apartment without a shirt on and while he doesn’t seem to see the problem with it, you don’t think your heart can take it much more.

And it’s the final straw when you see him a few days later, a thin sheen of sweat covering his skin as he saunters across the apartment from his home gym towards the bathroom in the hallway. All while you’re standing dumbfounded in the kitchen trying really hard not to get caught staring at his enormous biceps or the way the shine of sweat accentuates the dips of his abdomen. It’s in this moment you can truly understand why he has so many fans despite his rather stone-like demeanor.

“You have got to put a shirt on,” you blurt when he’s halfway across, knowing this will turn into some dangerous territory if he keeps walking around the apartment half-naked.

He stops in his tracks, his head cocking the only indication he’s confused by your statement. “I don’t want to wear a sweaty shirt,” he says by way of explanation. He doesn’t seem to notice your flustered expression. “I might catch a cold.”

You resist the urge to groan and slap yourself on the forehead. “Fine, then I’m wearing whatever I want around the apartment,” you say, determined to make him realize why he can’t just walk around like that. Though knowing Ushijima, you’ll never get through that thick skull of his.

And as you suspect, he simply replies, “Alright.” Before disappearing into the hallway and the bathroom to take a shower.

You lower your forehead to rest it on the cool countertop, shaking your head at how dense he really is. And you’re beginning to realize you think it’s endearing. While his infuriatingly toned body may be a major perk, you’re starting to see that you like him too. Now you actually groan. You swore this would never happen—not with Ushijima at least. But here you are.

After that, you make a pointed effort to wear the shortest shorts you can possibly find whenever he’s around. And you purposefully pair them with an oversized shirt, so it doesn’t look like you’re wearing pants at all. But if it has any effect on Ushijima, you can’t tell. You can’t help cursing his dumb impassive expression every time you retreat to your room for the night. Seriously—is he swayed by anything ever?

However, Ushijima hardly knows what to do with himself the first time you strutted out like that. He might be dense, but he’s still only human. His eyes naturally span down the expanse of your exposed legs and he has to grip his water bottle like a vice in order to keep it from clattering into the sink when you rise to your tiptoes to grab something from the top shelf. Your shorts ride up even more, hugging the curves of your ass as you stick it out to balance yourself.

You let out a surprised sound when he appears behind you, easily picking up the thing you were vying for and handing it to you without so much as a word.

“I really need a stepstool or something, huh?” You joke, taking it from him gratefully and blissfully unaware he was just blatantly staring at your ass.

He doesn’t say anything, but the next week you find a small stepstool leaning against the cabinets for you.

Staring at your phone in your hands, you thank any god listening that you brought it with you. How stupid do you have to be to lock yourself out of your apartment when you’re taking the trash out? Sitting on the floor against your door, you lean your head back on it and let out an exasperated sigh. You already went down to the office for help, they called a locksmith, and they aren’t available until tonight. And by that time, Ushijima will be home from practice and you won’t need the service anyways.

You have several options here. You could call a friend and stay with them until Ushijima gets back from practice, but they all live too far to walk to, and you don’t have your wallet. You could hang out in the apartment buildings lobby until he gets home, but if your phone dies, you’re stuck with nothing to do and no way to contact anyone.

The last option is slowly beginning to seem like your only option: calling Ushijima at practice for help. Burying your face into your hands you groan—you really don’t want to do that. Plus, you doubt he’s going to answer his phone anyways. After you sit there for a few more minutes, you take a deep breath and steel your courage. Leaving a message is better than nothing.

Despite deciding to call him, you still stare at his contact for a few moments before finally pressing the ‘call’ button. It rings a few times, then unsurprisingly goes to voicemail. When it beeps for you to leave your message, you swallow your pride and say, “Hey Ushijima, I know you’re at practice, but I locked myself out of the apartment…and the locksmith can’t come until tonight. If you by any chance get a break, would you be able to let me back in? I’d really appreciate it…sorry for the inconvenience and disrupting practice!”

Then you hang up and slump against the door again. Might as well head down to the lobby to sit somewhere more comfortable than the hallway floor. You turn the brightness down on your phone to conserve battery and resist the urge to just sit in the lobby scrolling through social media to pass the time. If he by some stroke of luck calls you back, you want to make sure your phone isn’t dead.

“Hey Ushijima, your phone was ringing in the locker room while I was in the bathroom. It was your roommate~,” Heiwajima teases. Ushijima slowly looks past his shoulder back towards the locker room door—that’s odd. You’ve never called him before. “And she left a message!” He coos.

Before Heiwajima can make any more comments, Ushijima strides past him to check his phone. They’re taking a short break and he doesn’t see a problem with making sure everything is alright. You wouldn’t have called if it weren’t important. He doesn’t see the rest of the team share suggestive looks behind his back. Before you, Ushijima refused to check his phone during practice, no matter how many messages he had (which are few and far between but still).

Upon hearing your message, he calls you back immediately.

You’re shocked that he’s calling you back within a half hour of your call.

“Uh, hi,” you say upon answering the call. “Sorry for bothering you. I’m surprised you saw my message so fast.”

“Heiwajima heard my phone ringing while he was in the bathroom.”

“Lucky me,” you joke.

He gets straight to the point. “I’ll leave now.”

Your eyes widen. He’s going to leave practice right now to let you back in? “Oh—um, you don’t have to do that! I’m just waiting in the lobby; I can wait until you have a longer break or something!”

“I can come now,” he says plainly. Then he hangs up on you. You sit back in the chair you’re sitting in and huff out a breath speechless. Never once has Ushijima left practice early. And now he’s just dipping out without hesitation because you’re a major idiot? You can’t fathom it, and the little voice in the back of your head that’s been slowly falling for him is absolutely swooning at the thought.

When he enters the gym again, Heiwajima finds him immediately, while the other members of the team look curiously on as he asks, “So, what’d she want?” Immensely interested in the fact that judging from his sweatpants and jacket over his practice clothes, Ushijima looks like he’s about to leave.

“She’s locked out of the apartment,” Ushijima explains as he heads towards the door.

The team looks around at each other surprised. They don’t get another word in as Ushijima explains to the coach the situation and says he’ll be back in less than hour. Then he’s out the door and a few of them start chuckling to themselves, while the more clueless members wonder why in the world Ushijima would willingly leave.

The gym isn’t far from the apartment, so it’s not long until you see Ushijima step through the front doors and sweep his gaze across the lobby. You greet him right away and the two of you get in the elevator. The silence is unbearable for you—though you’re sure he’s completely fine with it.

When you reach the door and he lets you in, you finally say, “Thank you. You really didn’t have to leave practice though; I could have waited.”

You swear his eyes soften, but it might just be your eyes playing tricks on you. He appreciates that you are being considerate for his time, but he found he wasn’t keen on the thought of you being locked out. It didn’t sit right with him. Not when he’s only 20 minutes away. He’ll be back in under an hour, and that’s better than you just sitting out here for several hours.

He just nods his head and says, “I’ll come anytime.”

At those words, that voice inside your head becomes a pathetic puddle and it’s an effort to keep your knees underneath you.

He can’t explain the way his heart lifts at the smile you give him. Stepping backwards into the apartment, you say as you’re closing the door, “See you when you get home.”

Home.

He’s surprised how that word coming out of your mouth makes him feel.

Any feeling of domesticity is thrown out the window the morning you’re walking around the apartment in one of his sweatshirts he lent you a few weeks back when you were cold. He’s stops in his tracks in the hallway seeing you in the kitchen at the stove cooking breakfast, his sweatshirt too big for you covering your shorts and just brushing your bare thighs.

Without giving him the chance to quell it, against his will, his dick strains against the front of his sweatpants and he rushes out the door with barely a goodbye in hopes you don’t see it. It doesn’t even go away on the train on the way to the gym, no matter how hard he tries. His thoughts subconsciously drift to the sight of you and how soft your thighs looked. It’s shocking to him how much he liked seeing you in his clothes. It was the same sort of sensation he felt when Tendo suggested you get yourself an Ushijima jersey—only it’s a hundred times worse.

He tries to ignore it, walking into the locker room like nothing is wrong, stripping his sweatpants and jacket off and shoving them into his locker before he looks around and sees Heiwajima staring at him with raised eyebrows. Then his eyes pointedly look downwards before he lifts them to meet Ushijima’s again. “You wanna deal with that before practice?”

“It’s fine.” He’s sure it’ll go away once he starts warming up.

But then his thoughts drift to you warming up and stretching in his clothes. You bending over, his sweatshirt sliding up your chest, revealing more of your ass and thighs as you count to ten. And any sort of effort he’d put forth to settle down is destroyed as his shorts feel uncomfortably tight. What is going on with him? He hasn’t been able to stop thinking of you as of late, and it’s only been getting worse.

Heiwajima just starts laughing. “Seriously dude, nobody wants to look at that all day.” Then he motions his head in the direction of the showers.

Ushijima’s eyes widen, realizing just what he’s suggesting. He hesitates for a moment, but eventually concedes. He won’t be able to play like this. Nobody seems to care as Ushijima grabs his towel and heads off to the showers, despite feeling distraught about what he’s about to do. He’s never really been one for masturbating, so it surprises him how easy it is to let you in his sweatshirt come to mind as he wraps a hand around his cock. And he comes a lot faster than he expects too.

That’s the first time he jerks off to the thought of you. He tries to brush it off as a necessity for him in order to practice well that day, but it soon becomes a terrible habit he can’t stop. Especially when you keep doing things that make him uncomfortably hard. Like still wearing those tiny shorts around the apartment, doing yoga in the living room, showing him your Ushijima jersey you finally ordered online—seriously, never in his life did he think this would ever become a problem.

He hardly knows what do with himself at this new infatuation.

Recently, you’ve started going out on dates because you’re beginning to feel this strange tension between you and Ushijima, and you have no idea how to deal with it besides letting some other guy pound you into a mattress while you ashamedly picture it being Ushijima instead. One night, when you’re bidding him goodbye as you’re on your way out the door, he asks you, “Will you be home tonight?”

Your heart stutters a bit at that word. Home. And then you feel disgustingly guilty that he’s noticed you don’t usually come back after these dates. Meaning you think even he can put the dots together on what you’re doing.

But really, he’s asking because what you’re wearing is already making his pants feel tight and even though it makes him feel a little ashamed, he needs to get his frustration out somewhere that you’re out spending the night with other guys. It makes him feel incredibly jealous—an emotion he’s not used to yet.

“Probably not,” you tell him, swallowing your pride about it and shutting the door.

For the next couple of hours, he tries to resist the demon in his head telling him to go sprawl out on his bed and think about you with his hand wrapped around his cock. But even after he makes dinner, works out, and takes a cold shower; it’s still there nagging at the back of his head. And he knows it won’t go away until he’s coming into his hand with your name spilling from his lips. He resigns himself to this becoming something he does now and heads off to his bedroom to satiate himself.

Your date is terrible. He wasn’t like this when you met him at the coffee shop last week, but tonight he must be feeling extra lucky. Enough to let his cocky, asshole nature shine through and you find yourself forcibly smiling your way through dinner. It doesn’t help that all you can think about is a certain stone-faced, stoic, gentleman who’s just sitting there waiting for you at your apartment. And just the thought of letting this guy touch you tonight makes your skin crawl. So, once the dinner is over, you end the date short, blaming it on not feeling well. He looks pretty put out that he won’t be getting his dick wet tonight, but you’re not inclined to care very much.

Unsurprisingly, the apartment is dark when you return. Ushijima goes to bed promptly at 9 o’clock every night, so you weren’t expecting to find him awake. So, you’re stunned into silence when you hear sounds emitting from his room on your way to yours. It sounds like he’s…panting? Is he working out?

Your brow furrows and your curiosity gets the better of you. You know it’s wrong, and such an invasion of privacy, but you just can’t stop your fingers closing around his doorknob, turning it slowly to just get a tiny peek into his room.

Your heart comes to a jarring halt at the sight you stumble upon.

Never, in your entire life, did you think you’d catch Ushijima Wakatoshi masturbating.

It never even occurred to you that is something he might do, not really seeming the type to.

And holy shit—is it a sight.

Your mouth involuntarily dries up at his enormous hand wrapped around his equally massive cock, pumping it from base to tip as his hips work in unison with his hand. His hair is a bit damp, and fuck—his cloudy, lust-filled gaze is making heat pool in your core. Additionally, he’s completely and utterly naked. Who the hell jerks off totally naked is beyond you, but you aren’t complaining as you watch the way the muscles of his abdomen ripple with each movement of his hips and breath he takes.

You could probably stand here watching him do this forever if you’re being honest.

That is, until your name falls from his lips.

You swear the floor drops out from under you.

At first, you think he’s caught you. But you soon realize that is very much not the case. His hips start shuddering, his pace becoming erratic as he chases his orgasm and you’re suddenly struck by the thought of: you don’t want him to finish without you.

And before you can hesitate, you open his door fully and step into his bedroom.

His reaction is nothing like you imagined from someone who just got caught masturbating by their roommate who’s name not two seconds ago escaped his mouth. Anyone else would have yanked their hand away and scrambled to cover up. But not Ushijima.

To his credit, he does cover himself, but he does so in such a calm manner, you’re shocked. Plus, you can see he clearly still has his hand around his cock beneath the blanket. The two of you just look at each other for a few moments, and after what seems like eons of silence, he opens his mouth and says, “You said you weren’t going to be home.”

Your brows raise, amused he’s chosen that as his defense. “I think I said, ‘probably not’ actually.”

His expression doesn’t change as your gaze drifts downwards towards his impressive erection that somehow has not gone away despite that he’s lying there in all his naked glory caught red-handed.

You lick your lips subconsciously. “Can I help you?”

He wasn’t expecting that. Nor was he expecting the way his dick twitched in his grasp at your words. Or how heat is spreading across his entire body at the way you’re looking at him. Is he really going to let this happen? He’s pretty embarrassed you caught him, but you don’t seem phased at all. To him, you almost look…excited.

You don’t really wait for him to respond, taking the way he eyes you up hungrily as a yes, and stepping further into the room. Tentatively, you start lifting away the blanket he covered himself with, and he seems to be in a daze as you toss it aside, baring him for you to see. Glancing up at him, you see he’s breathing heavily, his pupils blown wide as he watches you—and while he may not be able to tell you with words how he feels, his body is telling you enough.

But you still want to make sure. Settling yourself between his thighs, you set a hand on each of them and squeeze lightly to get his attention. His olive gaze rises to meet yours and you ask, “Is this okay?”

Without hesitation, he replies, “Yes.”

And if you know Ushijima at all, he means what he says.

You get yourself a bit more comfortable between his legs, chastely kissing each of his thighs, finding it immensely ego boosting at the way they tremble at your touch. You make your way to the base of his cock and lick one stripe up to the tip. He groans quietly at the sensation, realizing his hand will never be enough again.

His fists curl into the sheets beneath him as you take his head into your mouth, and you fail to suppress the quiet groan that emits from you at how heavy he sits on your tongue. Your mind immediately wandering to what he might feel like inside you—if this goes that far, that is. His eyes haven’t left you, watching you intently as you take more of him into your mouth, the weight of his heady gaze making heat pool between your legs.

Steeling your confidence, you hold his stare as you take nearly all of him into your mouth and start bobbing along his length. A barely audible hiss escapes him, the muscles in his arms straining with how hard he’s fisting the sheets. Yet, you still have his rapt attention, and it makes you want to make him feel so good he has to close his eyes and lean his head back against his pillow.

The thought of having Ushijima Wakatoshi a puddle beneath you makes your thighs clench together. An action that surprisingly doesn’t go unnoticed by him.

In a matter of minutes, you’ve made him throw all qualms out the window and you soon get your wish of seeing him let go. His eyes close, head leaning back revealing the strong column of his neck, and his hips start to move in tandem with your bobbing motions. A guttural groan escapes him when you hollow out your cheeks, and the sound rumbles through you before adding to the growing ache between your legs.

You can’t imagine he’s even close to reaching the end of his stamina, but you are certainly losing patience. So, you pop off his cock, and start making the motions to undress so you can finally fulfill your fantasy of riding him.

He startles you by lifting himself to rest on his elbows, his deep voice filling the silence, “Wait.” You pause, your dress already halfway off. He sits up and pulls you into his lap, completely unbothered by the fact your clothed core is now sitting directly atop his prominent erection. “Let me,” he says so softly you think you might combust.

His hands replace yours, and he gingerly unzips the back of your dress and starts sliding it off your shoulders, each inch of newly exposed skin met by the soft press of his lips. You have no idea if he’s ever been with anyone before, but whatever he’s doing is making your insides scramble and burn. His movements are slow and meticulous, like he’s savoring each touch are you’re positively melting in his lap.

Eventually, you have to stand up to shimmy the dress down your legs, but he sits at the edge of the bed waiting patiently before his large hands rest at your hips and pull you back into his lap. Now you’re looking down at him, so you lean down and press your lips against his.

He’s somewhere else entirely—heaven, maybe, as you kiss him. Your lips are soft, body pliant and warm against his as his fingers dig into the plush skin of your hips. He groans involuntarily when your fingers slide into the hair at the base of his neck, tilting his head so you can kiss him even deeper. You’re pleasantly surprised when his tongue darts out questioningly and you happily open your mouth for him.

I’m doomed, you think as his tongue sweeps in at the same time he uses his hands at your waist to grind you down onto his hips. He feels absolutely huge beneath you, and you have no idea if he will even fucking fit inside you. “Fuck…Wakatoshi,” you breathe. His fingers grip a little harder at your voice saying his name like that, but you’re too dazed to notice what it does to him. You continue, “Fuck me, please.”

He makes a noise in the back of his throat, and for a moment you think he’s going to comply with your request. Instead, he murmurs, “Not yet.”

You almost pout, but then he’s unclasping your bra and lifting you to set you down on the bed. He doesn’t waste much time ridding you of your underwear next, and you have to resist the urge to cover yourself as he stares at you with a near predatory look in his eyes. “You’re perfect,” he says, clear as day and you feel heat course through your veins at his words.

He’s looking at you like you’re the only thing in the world to him right now. The intensity of his wanton gaze making you squirm beneath it until he lays his body over yours, the comforting weight of him pressing against your skin as he takes your lips again. He elicits a moan from you, his fingers dancing along your sides and his tongue sweeping into your mouth, making you nothing more than a trembling mess underneath him.

His lips leave yours, but he slowly begins trailing kisses along your jaw, down your neck and across your collarbone; almost as if he’s worshipping every inch of your skin before he reaches your breasts. He takes both of them into his enormous hands, the callouses of his fingers scratching along the supple flesh, making your back arch into his touch. Pressing a chaste kiss to your sternum, he rolls your nipples between his fingers, all while keeping his steady gaze on you. And you have no idea how the simple action of him just teasing your nipples while pinning you with those olive eyes is so unbelievably erotic your head begins to feel light.

And then he takes one of them into his mouth and you about lose your goddamn mind. How the fuck does he know exactly what to do? In the time you’ve known him you’ve never once seen him be even remotely interested in anyone. But at this point, you’re well past the point of caring how he learned his way around a woman’s body.

His tongue laps at the pert bud, all while he keeps his meticulous pace on your other nipple before turning the attention of his mouth to it. Without thinking much of it, your fingers dive into his hair, curling into the strands as he continues his worshipping. Though it does pull a deep rumble of pleasure from his chest that goes straight between your legs.

“Wakatoshi,” you pant breathlessly, chest heaving, desperate for him to do something about the growing ache at the apex of your thighs.

This time, he seems to heed your words. He pops off your breast and wanders with his lips down the expanse of your stomach, his hands finding purchase at your hips as he settles himself between your thighs. Your thighs tremble in anticipation as he presses soft kisses to each of them, fingers kneading your hips and pulling you closer to his mouth.

Never in your life did you think you’d have Ushijima Wakatoshi between your legs, looking for all the world like he’s about to devour you.

He groans as he slides his tongue between your folds, drunk on how wet you already are. And despite the fact his cock is throbbing almost painfully and leaking on the sheets, he knows to take his time. If you want him to fuck you, he has to make sure you’re ready for him.

You throw your head back, fingers fisting into the sheets as a lewd moan escapes your throat that only makes him bury his face even deeper into you. His tongue finds the bundle of nerves at the apex and sweeps across it, moving in small circles that have you finding purchase in his hair to keep him there as you move your hips in unison with his tongue.

A loud gasp fills the air as one of his thick fingers enters you, the ministrations of his tongue not stopping as he slowly pumps it in and out of your core. He’s kept his attention on you this entire time, his gaze never wavering as he watches you fall apart at his mercy. And he finds he’s thoroughly pleased at how easily his finger slipped into you, enough that he tentatively prods another one at your entrance that after a moment slides in without any resistance.

It’s so satisfying that he buries his face even deeper, his tongue pressing harder against your clit as you fuck yourself on his fingers. At the sensation of his second finger, your own find purchase in his hair, babbling utter nonsense that if you were in a clearer state of mind you might be a little embarrassed about.

“Please,” you beg, desperate for his cock inside you, “fuck me Wakatoshi. I want you inside me.”

He nearly falls apart at your needy request, but he isn’t finished yet.

You continue to plead with him, until you abruptly feel the absence of his tongue and you look down to find him staring intensely at you. Your throat clams up at his smoldering gaze as he says simply, “You aren’t ready.”

Your mouth drops open as you blink in surprise. Is he joking? Are you not frantically fucking yourself on his fingers right now, desperately asking for him to be inside you? How can you possibly be anymore ‘ready’?

“What are you talking about?”

Now his eyes drop, and very quietly he murmurs, “I’ve been told I am…quite large.”

“By who?” You blurt.

All he says is, “Others.”

You decide to leave it at that, your attention traveling to his erect cock, it pulsing so hard you can almost see it and dripping from the tip. You swallow nervously trying to imagine that going inside you. Ushijima just watches you eye him, his two fingers still knuckle deep in you, which he seems to have forgotten about as he angles his head in question. “Do you want to keep going?”

Warmth blooms in your chest at his concern. “I would very much like to,” you reply, smiling innocently at him, despite the fact the position you’re in is very much the opposite of innocent.

And the answering small smile he gives you makes your stomach flutter. It’s so soft and dazzling, it nearly knocks all the breath out of you. He presses his lips to your inner thigh, smiling against your skin, and all you can do is stare in awe of him.

Then, as if remembering where is fingers still are, he drags them slowly out of you, his mouth latching on to your clit once again before sliding them easily back in. Soon, he’s got you writhing on his fingers once more, toes curling and your own fingers gripping onto his bicep you can feel flexing with each thrust of his hand.

He waits a bit longer, until his fingers are soaked with your wetness again, before tentatively prodding a third finger at your entrance. He stifles his groan against you when he finds that it slips in along with the others effortlessly. Particularly as the grip you have on his biceps tightens, nails digging into his skin and eyes flaring open at the new sensation.

“Fu—fuck,” you mewl, holding on to him for dear life as he continues his slow and methodical pace. At this point, you’re practically shoving yourself onto his fingers, wanting him to fuck you deeper and trying to match the pace at which his tongue is flicking against your clit. The sensation becomes overwhelming, your thighs starting to tremble with the effort to not come around his fingers and mouth.

“Wakatoshi, please—I’m going to—,” you try to warn him, nails digging so hard into his arms that you’re leaving small crescent indents in his skin. He doesn’t stop though, not until you’re practically sobbing, “Let me come on your cock, please.”

That seems to be his undoing. His fingers and mouth abruptly leave you, eliciting a small sound of discontent from you. But you quickly shut your mouth at the sight of him leaning over you, aligning his hips with yours, one massive hand palmed around his cock as he pushes forward.

When the head of his cock sinks into you, a strangled gasp rips from your throat at just how utterly massive he is. Instinctively, your fingers wrap around his wrist to keep him from going any deeper as you say, “Slow.”

His brow is furrowed in concentration, as if it’s taking all of his willpower to keep from snapping his hips forward and sinking to the hilt in you. “Of course,” he growls, his voice taking on a deep tone that makes your toes curl.

And inch by glorious inch, he pushes deeper into you. His forearms coming to rest on either side of your head as he takes your lips to distract you from him nearly splitting you wide open. You tug him closer, fingers tangling in his olive hair, slanting your mouth against his and slipping your tongue inside which he gladly allows.

Eventually, his hips meet yours, and he pulls away to rest his forehead against yours, his toned chest rising and falling with the deep breaths he has to take in order to keep his sanity. The feeling of your tight walls clamping down around him is enough to make him hiss through his teeth, “Shit.”

The word alone makes heat pool in your core. Ushijima Wakatoshi never swears.

“Holy fucking shit.” You correct him. He’s seated fully inside you and you’ve never felt so full in your entire life. Your legs splayed out to either side from just how big he is, and once glance down confirms his thick thighs are shaking with the effort to be gentle.

He just shakes his head at your crass words, then pulls out slightly before ramming his hips back into yours. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him close to you, your chest meeting his and his head finding the crook of your neck and he begins slowly. And while you’re very much enjoying each of his careful, deep thrusts, you very much would like to be pounded into his mattress. You’re certain he can.

You wonder if he’ll dirty talk with you.

Running your fingers through his dampening hair, you whisper against his ear, “You feel so good, Wakatoshi.” He merely responds with a kiss against your neck and a small approving growl that makes you keep going. “You know what I thought about anytime I was in someone else’s bed?” He makes no indication whether or not he likes you talking to him, so you press on. “This,” you murmur, “You.”

He stops, and for a second you think you’ve gone too far. But then he rises from your neck, and you swear to god—you almost come on the spot at the carnal glint gleaming in his eyes. Like he is about to utterly and completely destroy you. Your entire body buzzes with anticipation as he finally draws his cock almost all the way out of you before driving his hips home in a way that sends you into total euphoria.

His pace becomes brutal, his hips punishing, wordlessly making you realize it was a mistake for you to ever think anyone but him should be between your legs. It was pure luck you stumbled onto something you didn’t realize—he was immensely jealous every time you came home in the morning, clearly having spent the night with someone else.

It drives him so wild that he growls against your lips, “You’re mine.”

The words are so deliciously possessive, you can’t help the way your walls tighten around him, nor how your legs wrap around his waist and start helping him with each thrust of his hips.

“Yours,” you say, lips brushing against his. His hands wander down your sides, fingers digging into your hips pulling you even closer so that there is virtually no space between your bodies. He’s resting almost his entire weight on you, and his warmth and build is so strangely erotic, the coil in your stomach winds tighter and you can feel your impending orgasm begin to climb.

He cages you in his arms, hips never relenting, seemingly chasing his own release. His quiet grunts of pleasure are going straight between your legs, and you can’t help but start exploring the expanse of his exquisitely toned chest pulling an even deeper sigh from him making you almost melt on the spot. Your hands eventually find a place to rest in the dimples of his hips, relishing the sensation of his muscles moving beneath your fingers.

He refuses to finish before you, no matter how unbelievably tight you’re pulsating around him. So, he reaches between your bodies, fingers finding your clit, pride filling his chest at how you moan lewdly; your head falling back and fingers grappling even harder onto his hips. He takes the opportunity to press kisses to your throat, shoulders, collarbone—any expanse of skin he can get his mouth on.

“Fuck—yes,” you groan, hands leaving his hips to weave their way into his hair, using your legs to push him even deeper and meeting each of his thrusts with your own. You start quivering under him, your body preparing for the onslaught of pleasure rising in your chest, threatening to snap at any moment.

You come completely undone when Ushijima commands, “Come for me.”

Something about his husky, lust filled tone; his lips making their mark all over your skin, and the harsh thrust of his hips sends you over the edge. Your body bows off the bed, and Ushijima meets you, his arms wrapping around your middle to press you against his chest as his lips latch onto your neck and he buries himself to the hilt in your wet heat.

For the second time tonight, he curses quietly, holding you to him as your walls pulse with your orgasm and he finds his own release alongside you. You hold on to his shoulders for dear life as waves of pleasure roll through you, your body spasming in his grip all while he kisses you softly. It’s tender and erotic at the same time. As you start to calm down, he claims your lips, tongue sweeping in as you push his damp hair off his forehead before cupping his cheeks.

He pulls away from you, only to set his forehead against yours, your warm breath mingling. Both of your chests are still heaving, and although it’s silent, it’s comforting as he holds you.

After a moment, you open your eyes and find his closed, his lips curved into a barely noticeable smile. It fills your heart seeing him look so…content. “Wakatoshi?” You say quietly. His eyes open and your throat closes at just how handsome he is. “I…I like you.” Your eyes close now, embarrassed at how pathetic that sounded.

“I’d hope so.”

Your eyes burst open finding him looking at you comically seriously. You know he doesn’t mean it as a joke, but you can’t help the smile that rises to your lips. He gazes at you curiously as you ask, “And? Do you like me?” As if his softening dick isn’t still inside you right now.

Though, it still makes your heart flip when he replies without hesitation, “Yes.”

“Good.” You grin. “I’d hope so.”

You kiss him again before he finally pulls out of you and without a word, he gets off the bed and disappears out into the hallway. You grimace at the mess between your legs but are pleasantly surprised when he returns with a warm towel to clean yourself up with. While you deal with the mess, he rummages around in his drawers and at first you think he’s looking for clothes for himself, until he hands you a pair of his briefs and a t-shirt.

You must eye them curiously because he sets them on the bed saying, “Sleep with me.” He doesn’t word it like a question.

Taking the clothes, you smile teasingly up at him. “I just did.”

To nobody’s surprise, he’s relatively unfazed. “Overnight,” he explains further. “In my bed.” Though the light dusting of pink coloring his cheeks as he says this makes you want to smother him with kisses all over again.

You slip on his clothes and climb beneath the sheets as your response. You watch him dress, marveling over the muscles shifting in his back and arms until he covers them and joins you in the bed. He draws you close to his side, letting you run your fingers across his cheek before settling at his chin and pulling his lips to yours. You kiss lazily until you both grow tired and you tuck your head under his chin, letting his fingers intertwine with yours and enjoying the affectionate kiss he presses to the top of your head.

He surprises you when he says into the silence, “Are we going to do that again?”

The chuckle that escapes you is by no means meant to be mean. He just fucked you better than anyone in your entire life and if you were in deep shit falling for him before this—you’re doomed now. Yet, you don’t mind in the slightest. Not when being here in his arms feels exactly where you should be.

So, you kiss his neck and reply softly, “Yes.”

You don’t see his answering smile.

taglist: @bobawithpomegranate @anothermessedupbitch @abswrites @toorus-goodgirl @apollochjld @vicassa @sssjuico10

#ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima wakatoshi reader-insert #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu reader-insert #ushijima wakatoshi #haikyuu!!#ushijima wakatoshi imagine #ushijima wakatoshi scenario #haikyuu scenario #haikyuu imagine #ushijima imagine #ushijima x reader

458 notes · View notes