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#these were a fun challenge to work with since the shots are so choppy and short
honeysweetcorvidae · 8 months
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for the ask meme: 21, 22, 37, 38, 75 (I rolled 5 d100s for you <3)
ROLLING D100S? SWOON. almost as many as i rolled on sunday when you were beating my wizard half to death(delighted)
21. Would you ever collaborate with another writer for a story?
well. (looks at lsoh.) yes! i’ve done a lot of rp in my time and i really enjoy collaborative storytelling, and i think it would be super fun to make a more formalized collaborative narrative—i don’t know if i’d do a short-answer-rp-turned-fic again, since those can get choppy, but if i ever drag my head above water on all my other ideas? man. with another writer i trust and work well with i’d LOVE to give it a shot, i say, blinking slowly and meaningfully at the person who sent me this ask,
22.Are there certain types of writing you won’t do? (style, pov, genre, tropes, etc)
I mean, yeah, probably! I can’t name them off the top of my head because there’s exceptions to every rule, but I have comfort zones and I have things I’m just not that into— but generally speaking I write the way whatever story i’ve been possessed by most recently feels best, you know? which means that i’ll do just about any POV and a LOT of genres and tropes. I guess I’d say I’m uncomfortable writing things that feel like I’m making Gender Roles Again, But This Time We Like Them— that’s a pretty broad statement but it has a bunch of different applications, whoops.
I also don’t like to take characters that are source-material equals and make them ontologically, fundamentally, irrecoverably unbalanced to a point where there is simply no hope of gaining that equality— I was thinking about this the other day, actually. Like, it’s a little weird coming from Godfucker McEldritchguy, but I think. hmm how do I describe this. a) i love to make a story where gods get dragged down to a human level, b)in ones where they don’t, they tend to have been Designed to be gods, not designed to be an equal, and i can have a character be their most specialest little bug in a jar, and c) god i am so obsessed with guys that are mutually obsessed with each other. i am so weird about it. and it’s challenging for me to write something lacking that mutualism, although i can write it in a way where it’s antagonistic instead of positive or whatever. does that make sense? i don’t know.
anyway, at the end of the day I’d say my limits depend on the characters I’m working with; there’s things I’d do with some of my OCs that I’d rather die than touch akeshuake with, and things I do with them that I would never in a thousand years hand to karkat homestuck, And So On. dunno!
37. How do you choose where to end a chapter?
(hysterical laughter) if you figure it out please god tell me
38. Would you ever write commissions?
god, I wish I could, but my brain simply would not allow it. I do not determine the subject matter or length of what I write, I set out the ouija board of concepts and lay my hands on my ADHD planchette and hope to hell that what comes out isn’t more absolutely balls to the wall insane nigh-unreadable clown nonsense
75. What scene in [Winner Take All]took the longest to write? What was difficult about it? 
oh boy okay uh. WTA was written in a feverish haze over the course of like two weeks, so it’s hard to remember, really, but I remember driving myself INSANE with the opener of chapter 2; I kept sending messages to the group chat like “i’m 5k in and they Still Haven’t Fucked, help, this chapter wasn’t even supposed to exist”
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pieklalat · 3 years
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Tech getting Wreck(er)d - for @coruscas​
(+ bonus Hunter)
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I’m Here
The airbenders had a secret, beautiful-sounding, wordless-word language, and Aang is a lonely lil bird after he becomes the last airbender. ...so the Gaang improvises. 
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A/N: A lil Gaang-love hurt/comfort/FLUFF one-shot because Aang needs a hug, and the Gaang will start taking people out at the knees to give him one. 
Rating: G (H for hugs)
Words: 3,491
ArchiveOfOurOwn
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When Aang was a boy in the Southern Air Temple, he talked with his friends in whistle-speak all the time. 
They sang challenges over gales when they surfed around with their gliders, they stitched banter out of wind when they raced their bison, and they bled joyful congratulations and soft comforts into the air when words failed—when babies were born or when elders died.
He and his friends often used it to sneak around the temple. They channeled winds so high-pitched that the elders, sleeping or not, couldn’t hear them. Two tunes were a gusted high-five, and eight lifts and two pauses were a jest and a smack on the back. It was even their calling card on hot days when they were too lazy to move from their sunning spots or their bison’s backs to find each other to play. The passing breeze carried their conversations and their laughs, and it curled warmly around them with memories of good times. 
But, sometimes, when he was without a partner in the woods, Aang whistled a whirlwind that echoed across the canyon.
/I’m here./
And then he waited. And someone, somewhere, would always call back. Sometimes it was to chastise him for wandering too far, and sometimes it was to make fun of him for being so scared. He didn’t care, though. Their winds wound around him and comforted him all the same.
He hated silence. Mostly because he was so used to hearing his friends and Gyatso speaking or whistle-speaking all the time that, when it was quiet, it felt like he was alone in the world. Like something was missing.
Like he had been forgotten.
He wasn’t the only one, though. All airbenders didn't like to be alone, to an extent. Nomads migrated together. 
...But then the storm happened. And the Fire Nation. And now he was fighting a war he was a hundred years late for.
But even now he finds himself doing it on instinct. Sometimes it’s when they’re lounging as they set up camp, and other times it’s when he goes off on his own to collect kindling. Usually, it’s when he lounges on Appa’s head with his eyes on the sky, and the wordless words burning at the back of his mind spill out in braided winds.
His friends don’t notice the pain pinching his face whenever he catches himself doing it. And they couldn’t possibly feel his heart cringing—frozen—before convincing itself to keep beating. His family adores his whistle-speak, though he doesn’t tell them what it really is. He doesn’t want to talk about it. Whistle-speak was never about talking.
They say it sounds beautiful, like the wind itself was singing. They ask him on occasion—many, many occasions—to do it, just because it was pretty. 
It gets harder to hide how sad it makes him. But he would have preferred the sad feeling to what came when sadness became easy to bear.
He starts to feel nothing for the wind that carries his words without words. 
Just thinking about it made his eyes sting.
Aang loves his friends, his new family. He loves the smiles his whistle-speak puts on their faces—even Zuko’s face, once he joins them. He loves the relaxed atmosphere brought on like a spell as the winds wind around them, too.  
But he hates the pit each lyric digs deeper into his chest. The emptiness consumes him in pieces, and it only grows deeper with each note he sings. Because although he loves what they sow on his new family, his heart always bleeds into his winds those questions that never get answers—and that never will.
/I’m here. Where are you? I’m here. Are you there? I’m right here./
Aang doesn’t stop doing it, even though the silence yawns wider and wider every time. He does it without thinking when he’s alone, on instinct when it feels like his back is facing the void. 
/I’m here./
His shoulders curl to his ears, and he waits for minutes at a time. It’s only when he starts worrying why faces from a lifetime ago aren’t answering him that he remembers. He grips his staff tighter and shuffles away. He kicks the dead leaves even though their crunching screech raked across his ears. Even they are better than silence. He whistles softly between each step.
Sometimes he whistles things that Gyatso often did. Whistle-speak wasn’t as individual as a person’s voice, and if he bent the air just right, he could almost pretend it was his old master’s. He did it just to hear it. Just a familiar security. 
/Oh, there you are. I’ve been looking for you, Soft. I thought I might find you here. Are you alright?/
He keeps doing it even after it loses its ability to make him cry.
The Gaang eventually catches on, but not until after the war. Not until after Appa starts calling for other bison and looking sad, one day leaving them for several weeks and coming home with two other bison. His family had all guessed what Appa’s calls were for, so they weren’t surprised when he came home with friends. 
But Aang had always felt not as alone since Appa was alone with him. And after his buddy comes home with other bison and he hears them ‘talking’ softly to one another late at night when all else is quiet and he is alone in his bed, Aang finds himself whistling a broken tune. Even Momo finds more of his own after searching hard enough.
Now, he was truly alone. And the silence is deafening.
That’s when his new family notices something isn’t right. It gets eerily quiet, and they can’t find him one day. They split and search for him. 
It’s Sokka who finds him. 
He finds Aang sitting on a branch high up in a large, ancient tree. The young Avatar is hugging one of his knees while the other leg dangles, and he is whistling. The whistle is soft and soothing on Sokka’s ears even though the sound somehow carries for miles. 
After a few seconds of whistle-music, Aang stops, waiting expectantly. He swings his dangling leg to tic off the seconds.
Sokka waits to see what the airbender paused for. After a near minute, a bird somewhere deeper in the forest chirps and tweets, not holding a candle to the melodic sounds Aang can make, and after a few seconds, it stops, waiting.
And then Aang whistles again. And then he waits. 
And then the bird sings again. And then it waits.
The back and forth goes on for a while, and Sokka thinks Aang’s gone crazy. 
But then, when next the bird sings and Aang prepares to answer, another bird cuts him off. 
Aang flinches like the newcomer had smacked him in the face. Sokka winces along with him, and Aang hugs his leg a little tighter, hiding the lower half of his face behind his knee. His shoulders curl to his ears. His leg stops swinging. 
The two birds call to each other, singing together, without him. They harmonize like it was the most natural thing in the world, knowing the lyric and rhyme of their shared song so well that they don’t need to take pauses in their duet. They fly further and further away, taking their songs with them, now that they’ve found each other. 
Their chirps fade and die somewhere beyond the mountain, though their last notes echo like footprints left in their wake.
And then it’s quiet. It’s quiet for a while. It’s almost creepily quiet without the birds or Aang making any music. Sokka could’ve sworn he heard his heart beating. Even the wind died, and the trees were all still.
And then, like a beaten animal approaching its master, Aang whistles again, just a few notes. Hardly a song. More like a call. A plea.
His whistle carries loud and far, but just like the birds, it disappears into the mountains.
And then he waits. 
And he waits. 
And he waits.
He waits so long that Sokka starts to shift and sweat. Gravity itself was growing heavier in the quiet.
Aang waits some more.
Sokka’s lungs suddenly feel three sizes too small, and his heart falls somewhere by his stomach. That moment is when he realizes that Aang’s whistles are more than just the melodies of pretty songs. They’re the lyrics as well. 
He knows this because, when next Aang whistles, the sound is wet and choppy as his shoulders shake and he hugs both of his knees to his chest. His lyrics are so raw and broken and desperate that it makes Sokka’s chest cave-in like they were strikes from a metal pole to his sternum. Aang’s whistle was a universal sound, as unmistakable as a smile was for happiness or tears for sadness—a wolf’s howl after being separated from its pack.
/I’m here./
Sokka doesn’t know how Aang wants to mourn since he went out of his way to be alone, so he leaves him to get back to the others. 
And as he leaves, more whistles and long pauses follow behind him, like the mournful wails from the creatures in the sad stories told by tribesmen who’ve been at sea for too long. 
...The group discusses this finding, and Zuko, who studied air nomads in his quest to capture the Avatar, pieces everything together. They are all heartbroken and think back on every time Aang had whistled and how much they liked the sound and how they even sometimes asked him to do it. They all feel horrible. 
But Katara has a plan, and Sokka has the brainpower to make it work. 
So over the next few weeks, Katara and Toph follow close behind Aang whenever he wanders off. They study his songs, and Toph, having the best ears of all of them, can pinpoint almost every note that he makes. When they rejoin the others, Katara makes little ice vases and bends water atop them to emulate the whistles, and Toph is the gauge by which the pitch is corrected. They do this as well as they can for as many notes as they can (also trying to write down Aang’s songs like sheet music, but it is very difficult). 
Once they have enough data, Sokka spends several weeks, as often as he can with Zuko’s assistance whenever the Firelord has time, whittling the sizes, diameters, and depths of the correct notes into a type of ocarina. He makes one for each of them. Every ocarina is about the size of their palm and is given a little personalized flair that Sokka is quite proud of. 
They spend weeks and weeks practicing Aang’s songs. They dodge him and collaborate their schedules like they were planning to invade the Fire Nation while undercover all over again.
And then, one day, they master a few of his songs. They’re not nearly as flowing or clear or beautiful as Aang’s whistle-speak (Zuko said that’s what it was called)—and the sounds don’t carry nearly as far—but they were as good as they could get. It was, after all, impossible to capture the songs of the wind unless you were born of them.
...And not too long after comes the day to surprise him. 
Aang is up in his tree again, singing and waiting, when, from out of nowhere, there comes a response. 
He damn near breaks his face as he falls from his branch to the ground. He slips on the dead leaves and falls three more times as he scrambles to stand. 
Aang’s pulse pounds so loud in his ears that each thump feels like an earthbender somewhere is lifting and dropping a mountain. He has no idea what the whistle-speak said, so he asks, on impulse, one of the same questions he had been singing since he woke up in the South Pole. 
/Are you here?/ 
And he gets four responses.
/I miss you./ 
/I’m here./ 
/Where are you?/ 
/I’m here./ 
And Aang’s heart throws itself so hard and so fast against the cage of his chest that it felt like it might burst out of his torso. 
He chases their sounds, whistle-speaking like he was talking a million miles an hour—
He skids to a stop when he sees them. 
He stares, and they stare back. 
He is still high on adrenaline and frozen in place when he notices the small blanket they were sitting on. And the tea and small fire pit. And the few bits of burning incense—incense that he hadn’t smelled since a lifetime ago.
His confusion is nearing critical mass, but then Katara plays her ocarina. 
And Aang freezes, his breath leaving him like he had just been thrust under icy water.
There’s an awkward pause as he doesn’t respond, but then Sokka plays the same notes that Katara had.
And then Toph.
And then Zuko.
And each lyric plucks Aang’s heart in his chest.
/I’m here./ they all say.
Aang only makes it three steps towards them, his shaking legs not letting him run over and hug them before his first sob breaks him into a kneel. The next brings him to his knees, and he is surrounded by warmth and kind voices just as he learns to breathe again.
And he weeps.
He weeps so hard that even the presence of his past lives at the edge of his mind is somber and sad.
But his family holds him closer, holds him tighter, and they each tell him that he is theirs and that they will never let him go. They won’t let him drown in the silence anymore.
They eventually break apart, and Zuko places something in his hand as Aang chases away the last of his tears. It’s an ocarina. The wood is smooth and the whittling is sloppy, but the focus put into each cut is clear and shakily sanded as carefully as one could. 
It has a messy, squiggled air nomad crest carved onto its front, and on the underside, protected under a thick coating of lacquer, are the names of his family in four sets of handwriting that he recognized. And there’s a message, right beneath, in Sokka’s nearly illegible but very carefully carved font. 
/We’re here./
Aang vaults himself into his big brother’s arms. 
Sokka pats his back and tries to hide from the others how tightly he returns his hug.
There’s tea and more talk, and Toph asks Aang to teach them the ‘whistle-speak’ like she was asking him to share the code to unlock some large safe. Aang just smiles and asks them to teach him since he didn’t know how to work this thing.
He doesn’t need to learn, but he wants to. He wants to learn and have them share as much with him as he with them. He wants them to learn together in that moment.
And so, Aang teaches his family the language of the wind, the whistle-speak of his people.
The silence becomes a passing thought like a fading bad dream. 
And when next Aang is by himself and feels that inky blackness winding around him like chains and sinking into his racing heart like claws, he swallows dryly, scared like he was about to jump from a cliff without his glider, and he whistles.
His lyrics are weak and timid in the night air, but they carry far because they came from an airbender’s lungs. 
/I’m here./
There’s a long beat of silence, but then, in the distance, there comes an answer. It’s incredibly high and scratchy because whoever was making it was blowing their lungs out trying to make the sound travel as far as possible, but it was a response, nonetheless. 
Then there is another, a little further to the left. And then another. And then another, close by. 
/Oh, there you are./ 
/I’m here./ 
/Where are you?/ 
/Looking for you./
Something blossoms in his chest. It’s warm like he’s never felt before. It makes him feel all fuzzy inside. 
Aang whistles again.
/I love you./
He gets four immediate responses—one now much closer than before.
And there are no pauses in their group duet. 
/I love you./ 
/Are okay?/ 
/You okay, Soft./ 
/Find you here./
He is laughing and crying when Katara—the closest whistle—appears at his side, looking concerned. She doesn’t get more than three doting questions in before Aang is hugging her and drowning his jumbles of tearful laughs into her dress. 
The others whistle more—high, fluttering sounds concerned with the lack of Aang’s response. Katara one-handed whistles back a choppy response. 
/I’m here. Soft okay./ 
She hugs him tighter and rubs his back. Aang melts into her until even his legs give. Katara kneels with him on the ground, and she pulls him deeper into the protective circle of her arms, guiding his head to her shoulder and rocking them as she fills his ears with gentle words and soft coos. He is laughing and crying so hard that he can’t speak, and his grip becomes desperate like he thought she would be ripped away from him.
Katara holds him closer. She fists handfuls of his robes like she was silently promising to never let him go. She kisses the dip of his neck and shoulder, and, for the first time, whistles without her ocarina.
/I’m here./
Aang cries harder and for a while before he stops, not because he wanted to or because he had emptied all that he was feeling but because his body had nothing left to give. But by that time, his family had whistled demanding their location, and Katara had vaguely answered one-handedly. Everyone is there as he chokes down his final sobs. He just smiles, now, utterly exhausted. 
They sit on their knees and hug him until their legs tingle numbly. Aang is too exhausted to walk when they get up, so Zuko crouches and makes a ‘come on’ motion with his hands behind his back. 
/I’m here, Soft./
Aang’s smile is tired but blinding as he crawls onto his Sifu Hotman’s back and latches on like a koalapanda. He doesn’t have the strength to form words. When he tries, it’s a gargled hum. 
He whistles. 
/You’re here./
Zuko laughs and pats his leg.
And Aang gets four responses. 
/I love you./ they all say.
Aang closes his eyes and hangs his arms over Zuko’s chest. Katara and Toph hold his fingers in a gentle grip to remind him that they were there. Sokka walks behind him with his hands on Aang’s shoulders—patting and rubbing his back intermittently—, and when Aang teeters dangerously on unconsciousness, Sokka is half-keeping him pushed up on Zuko’s back. 
And on the way back to camp, his family practices a little whistle-speak conversation without their ocarinas. Aang didn’t know they had been practicing such a skill, and he doesn’t question the choppiness in their winds (the sounds are almost scratchy because they were blowing and not bending the air, but he could not give any less of a damn. They curled around him just the same).
Aang gently, tiredly, chimes into their conversation, forcing himself awake, even though he couldn’t even force his eyes open, so he doesn’t miss a single lyric. 
...They keep the whistle-speak their little secret for the longest time—years and years—, but when their kids all learn it with their own ocarinas, their offspring exploit it as much as they can. 
And their collective parents are driven crazy by the antics they accomplish with it. 
Except for Aang.
The once boy now man lets them get away with anything short of a felony. He even plays dumb when Katara demands that he at least try to stop Bumi the next time the toddler tries to raise hell with his sister and little Lin. 
Aang nods his head but crosses his fingers, and he couldn’t care less about that little guilt as he sits on the roof and listens to the whistle-speak of their little ones’ conspiring. Their plotting reminds him so much of him and his friends when he was a boy—the time gray and faded in his mind like a past life—that it nearly pains him from how happy it makes him. 
And then, one night, little Tenzin is awake. And he is alone. 
/I’m here./
His shaky whistle is wet and high-pitched like a choked whimper. 
/I’m here. I’m here./
And Aang is at his side in an instant. He hushes and coos him, easing away his little tears and rocking him in the protective circle of his arms. Small hands curl chubby fingers into his robes like his son thought his father would be ripped away from him. 
Aang smiles and soothes him to the tune of a whistled lullaby, gentle winds curling around them.
/I’m here./
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I think imma make a part II because everyone ALWAYS needs more hugs
Bonus Point about whistle-speak
PREVIEW OF PART II: “Are You There?”
PART II: Are You There?
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A Punchable Face That I Want to Kiss, Ch. 5 [18+/NSFW]
<- Chapter 4 | Chapter 6 ->
Summary: After your not-boyfriend, Frederick Chilton, turns out to be not-dead, you hope you can elevate your status from fuckbuddies. Maybe be honest about how you feel? But honesty is haaard... especially when he is more closed-off than ever.
(This is probably my favorite chapter. It has actual smut. And ridiculous idiots, and fluuuuuuuff)
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After Hannibal fled, leaving a bloodbath in his wake, Dr. Frederick Chilton returned to the land of the living and to administrating his psychiatric hospital as if he had simply been away on vacation.
Likewise, your relationship resumed where it had left off. You thought things would be different now—that you would be more honest with your feelings, and he might open up, too—but nothing changed, except for the things that changed in a direction you didn’t like.
“Oh, Doctor Chilton, I need help,” you purred, leaning seductively against the doorway of his office. He sat up rigidly in his leather chair and stammered a greeting with failed nonchalance.
Since his return, his voice shot up an octave whenever you walked in the room. He was like a shy teenager with his first crush, and you could only assume he was re-learning how to exist in the world after trauma. What else would it be?
Slinking up to his desk, you unfastened the top buttons of your shirt. He swallowed, hungry, but not immediately pouncing upon you with a lewd promise growled in your ear and a firm grasp on your hip like he used to do. New reserves of insecurity crouched beneath his skin like lions hidden in tall grass. It broke your heart to see that timidity in his eyes, but it was all incentive for you to work harder to relax him.
“I’m afraid I don’t have insurance, doctor,” you pouted, pushing aside a stack of papers to sit on his desk. “And mental health care is prohibitively costly because of a broken for-profit system, leaving the most vulnerable populations without access…” you put an emphasis on vulnerable, biting your lip.
He quirked a brow. “Your sexy-talk needs work.” 
“Oh, doctor,” you moaned, sliding off the desk and straddling his lap to pull at his tie. “Until we get universal healthcare”—you brought the end of his orange tie up to your mouth and bit it, gazing coquettishly into his eyes—“surely there’shh some ofther way I can pay you…” you lisped, mouth stuffed full of tie. 
He never knew it was possible to laugh, be annoyed, and aroused at the same time, but you were always teaching him new things. 
“That would be a severe ethics violation,” he said sternly, brows lowered, but clearly teasing. You snorted. 
It was impossible to remain self-conscious around someone flirting so badly. His hesitation melted away as he turned your awkward role-play around on you, so you moved on to phase two. Sinking to your knees at the foot of his chair, half under his desk, you smoothed the fabric of his pants over his lap, rubbing his inner thighs to coax his legs open and position yourself between them.
He drew in a sharp breath, but disguised it as a gasp of offense. “This is highly inappropriate. I am going to have to ask you to leave my office. Future visits will be attended by a nurse to ensure proper conduct, or I can refer you to another psychiatrist,” he said in a dry monotone, fully committed to playing hard-to-get. You growled in annoyance at him in between bursts of laughter. He patted your head patronizingly. “Now, now, I am a magnanimous doctor. I am not angry with you as a patient for this behavioral outburst… just disappointed.”
You licked your lips. Challenge accepted. You ran your hands over the front of his dress pants until you found the outline of his cock, and stroked it through the fabric, arching your back while giving him your best please-fuck-me look. He swallowed.
Unzipping the fly, you reached into the warmth of his pants, searching through a bed of curled hairs until you found his cock and drew it out to admire. The skin was velvety and soft, pulsing with heat as you gave it a few slow strokes, watching it grow larger and more firm. You loved it at its full arousal, when it took its sculptural form and shape with veins running up the underside of the shaft, when the foreskin pulled back and the domed pink head stood out, ready to plunge itself into you. 
God, you loved his cock. 
“On the other hand,” he quickly changed his mind, “perhaps I require a demonstration of this ‘alternative payment.’ For the sake of due diligence.” 
Your brought your tongue to its head and gave a teasing lick, tasting the salt of his precum, then kissed it like you would kiss his lips. You pecked a series of kisses down the length of his shaft until you were buried in his neatly trimmed curls, lips brushing the wrinkled skin of his balls, then flattened your tongue against his cock and traced a torturously slow wet line from the base to the tip. 
“I confess... you are my most attractive patient,” he said in a shaky, staggering breath, one side of his lips quirking upward. His chest was rising and falling rapidly now. He wanted more. “That is very good.” Not content with you stopping to look up at him, his hand cradled the back of your head, pushing you down and urging you to continue. “But I will need more payment than that.”  
Taking his entire thick cock in your mouth, you slid down it until he hit the back of your throat and you gagged, eyes watering a little as you adjusted to having your throat stuffed full of him, jaw forced open wide. His manicured fingers curled into your hair, gently petting you. “Easy,” he soothed. 
It was nice sucking the dick of someone as fastidiously clean as Frederick Chilton. You always appreciated that as you began, moving slowly up his shaft until your lips were only closed around the swollen head, licking it gently, then faster until you felt his fingers tighten. He always tasted faintly of soap and very little else. His sedentary lifestyle helped as well; he was never running around and building up a nasty sweat. It was a pleasant little bonus to the whole affair. His cock was the most delicious you’d ever had.
Your head bobbed up and down in his lap with renewed vigor, building a rhythm with his hand gently guiding you to his preference (which you followed to please him, and deviated from to get a reaction). You loved watching his face—his breathing as he struggled to control it, the way his mouth twitched, and his eyes watched you work. That desperate little whine in his throat when you broke his rhythm, which grew into a low moan he tried to suppress when you started a new one.
He gave you instructions: slower, faster, use your tongue... just like that. Good. You twisted, and sucked, and pumped his base with your hands, gliding your tongue along the underside of his cock until the exquisite moment when he broke down, and stopped trying to keep his breathing (and noises) under control. By the end, he was a shaking mess mess, barely able to stammer out “k-keep going!” You loved to watch the moment he surrendered to you completely, his fingers digging into your scalp as his hips jerked helplessly, and his mouth falling open as he released into you, moaning and gasping so loudly the staff were sure to hear. 
You kept him buried in your mouth as his hot seed spilled on your tongue, swallowing every drop until his muscles stopped their convulsions, and you licked his cockhead clean. Cleaning up was a pain in the ass otherwise (and Frederick might implode if any got on his dress pants), but also, his largely vegetarian diet made him taste exceptionally sweet. You smiled up at him and ran your tongue over your lips as he panted, a sheen of sweat on his brow. 
As he was coming down, the phone on his desk rang, and naturally, the ambitious jerk answered it without so much as a thank you, or even putting his dick away. Orgasm complete: never mind you, back to work. Based on his half of the conversation, it sounded important—something about a publishing deal for a book he writing on Hannibal the Cannibal. The tone of his voice took on that haughty smarter-than-you air as the topic turned to intellectual property rights, and he was clearly driving for more money. So you started sucking his overstimulated dick. He gasped loudly into the receiver, and stared down at you in horror as he tried to cover for it. “I apologize. A bee got into my office, and I have to swat it.” He pushed you off his lap, eyes sparking like choppy waves on a windy sea.
“That was rude,” he growled when he got off the phone, a somewhat deranged smile slanting up one side of his face. He bent you over the desk and slapped your ass, whispering promises into your ear of how he would pay you back later.
You knew he would keep his promises. Each one. He had a lot more aggression to work out lately, and while you weren’t its target, a good hard fuck always made him feel better. You knew when you went to his house tonight you were guaranteed to have a lot of fun in a lot of positions—but you also knew when you were done, he would usher you out with some excuse for why you could’t stay.
That was the biggest, and worst, change. You thought the incident would bring you closer, but he hadn’t let you spend one night with him since the day he was shot.
It made you feel cheap.
Worse, it meant you were drifting apart. He used to be grateful (though he would never admit it) that you were there for the nightmares. When he woke up shaking he would turn to hold you, crushing you against his chest like a teddy until the shaking stopped, and he drifted back to sleep still holding you tight. You would have thought he would need you there more than ever, now. Something made him stop trusting you.
  *****
“Did I do something wrong?”
You were in the cramped passenger seat of his midlife-crisis Porsche cabriolet as he drove you home yet again, and a silence had fallen over him. It was a warm spring night with beautiful stars in the breeze above you glowing their brightest, albeit faded amid the glow of Baltimore’s city lights.
“Not at all. I am simply setting healthy boundaries, darling. I begin to suspect you only like me for the amenities.”
His house was new—he did not want to move back into the place he had found Abel Gideon dissected, and Hannibal had slaughtered and arranged two FBI agents for display—and even more grandiose than the last. All of the staircases were spiral for some unfathomable reason (because it was fancier), and it contained an entire gym, pool, gourmet kitchen, and a television the size of an actual movie theater screen. The bath had hot-tub jets.
Admittedly, it was nice staying there. It made you feel like someone who’d seen the inside of a country club. But his answer was complete bullshit.
“You know I don’t care about all your fancy crap,” you groaned.
“Do I? You told me you only stayed the night because my house was nice, and you enjoyed my coffee.”
Ouch. OK. Called out. “Obviously I was lying! I only like your stuff because it’s part of who you are—I can’t imagine you not being shamelessly bourgeoisie—not because I want a sugar daddy. If that’s what you’re worried about… why don’t we stay at my apartment?”
The thought never crossed his mind that you might call his bluff. He was horror-stricken.
“At your little… chalet?” he said like he was poking a dead bug with the end of a stick.
“It’s an apartment.”
Trapped by his own logic, instead of dropping you at your front door, Frederick got out and hobbled up the narrow staircase with you.
“My god, what is this? For ants?”
“It’s called a full bed, Frederick, and there’s plenty of room,” you answered with a little annoyance creeping into your voice. You knew he was prissy, but from the moment he set foot in your two-bedroom (which you could barely afford) he had been acting like he was in a decrepit slum. It was hilarious, actually, how living like a normal human being made him squirm.
He flopped down into the middle of the mattress, a sullen expression on his face like a toddler in a time-out. “You cannot expect me to sleep on this prison cot.”
“Move over,” you nudged him, crawling onto the covers beside him. “There’s plenty of room if we cuddle.”
He didn’t look interested in cuddling at the moment, however. He stared up at the ceiling like he was about to explode. You smiled. Even at his bitchiest and sulkiest, there was no one else you would rather spend time with. He tugged at your heartstrings. You admired his profile—his square brow that could express so much emotion (right now: petulance), the new scar on his cheek that was clearly the source of some embarrassment to him (though you thought it looked rugged), the stubble down his jaw with the slightest hint of grey. He was just so handsome.
Seeing his scar this close up was rare, as he always tried to keep you on his right side whenever you were seated or laying next to each other. You rested your chin on your arm and smiled at him, but he didn't smile back, or even glance over. He just stared at the ceiling like you weren’t even there. You waggled your eyebrows suggestively, hoping to get a laugh (or an irate glare that was secretly a laugh).
No response at all. He was moody.
You rolled on your side to cuddle him, intent on kissing that scar, but when your hands touched his chest, he flinched, recoiling with a surprised yelp.
That was the last straw. His nostrils flared and eyes widened as if this was the gravest indignity he had ever suffered. He jumped up from the bed frantically saying, “I have to go.”
And he did. Just like that.
You tried not to cry. He was being a jerk. He was going through post-traumatic stress. He just needed space, and it wasn’t your fault, you said, but you counted up all of the ways it was your fault anyway.
You were always so blunt and rude with him. As much as he deserved it when he was being officious, exploitative, surly, or generally the poster child for “check your privilege,” he probably didn’t want to be around someone who called him out all the time. It was a miracle he tolerated you at all. You’d gone easier on him since he returned from the dead, but maybe he simply didn’t want a rude fuckbuddy anymore.
You decided you wouldn’t bother him. He needed space, and you constantly showing up at his office and calling his house wasn’t helping, and it obviously wasn’t what he wanted.
Not three days went by before he called wondering where you had been. You could hear him trying to hide the worry in his voice, and the relief when you told him you were fine, and not angry. He wanted to see you. Not just the usual tryst, either: he wanted to take you out for dinner.
You had no idea what was going on.
  *****
Chilton was terrified when you stopped calling him. His greatest fear hit him deeper than a scalpel—that you were dead. Hannibal was back from wherever it was he went, and he was killing off everyone close to his enemies. Or any other of hundreds of killers. When it was clear that nothing horrible had happened to you, and you were, in fact, alive, he realized his second greatest fear—he had fucked up and finally driven you away.
A few of his exes used to give him the cold shoulder when he had committed some error, like failing to spoil them with gifts or expensive dinners, or pretending to forget their name. Maybe you, too, were punishing him, and he still had a chance to win you back. It seemed very likely that you wanted more from him than just sex. He had been selfish and unreciprocal with you—though outwardly, you never asked for anything else, except to stay the night. But he could never do that, not anymore.
Instead, pampering you at a Michelin-star restaurant seemed like a good start.
  *****
Dinner with Chilton that night made it clear why you had never gone out on a proper date with him before. His world was not your world.
As you walked in, you were fairly sure the maître d' glared at you for wearing what you considered your nicest outfit—but given that your typical dinner was boxed mac n’ cheese in your underwear, your best may not have been up to standard.
Frederick was at the bar waiting for you, severely out-dressing you in a formal black suit and dazzlingly contrasting tie, but didn’t make any underhanded comments on your attire. He crossed the room to meet you, flashing that used-car-salesman smile he hadn’t used on you since the first time you met, and offered his elbow in a revoltingly genteel fashion. It was like he was a stranger.
The the maître d’hôtel guided you to your reserved table, and Frederick set his cane to the side, sat, and crossed his legs. You felt like you were being interviewed. Was this an interview? From an inner pocket of his suit jacket, he produced and handed you a silver-inlaid pen that cost more than your rent.
“I don’t want this.” You left it sitting on the white tablecloth and stared at it like an alien artifact, trying to figure out what made it better than a two-dollar pen from the drugstore. Maybe he could still return it.
He got flustered, blinking in confusion, then held his chin up haughtily, jaw clenched. “No accounting for taste, then.”
You groaned. For some reason he wasn’t pretending to be wounded this time, he actually felt rejected. Over a stupid overpriced pen. “Fine! I’ll take it if it’ll make you feel better,” you caved in, snatching it off the table. “But if we break up, I’m pawning this.”
His mouth curled, primed to make a retort, but then went slack.
Was he thinking of breaking up?
Was that what dinner was about? That’s right—that trick of breaking up in a public space so you won’t cry and make a scene. It would explain why he’d been acting so nervous and distant lately. Why else would he suddenly want to take you out?
An awkward silence fell over the table. You wished this place had paper napkins you could stress-doodle on with your stupid new pen. Was it a breakup gift? Were breakup gifts a thing?
The waiter blessedly interrupted to take your orders, which Chilton gently assisted you with because everything was in French, the menu did not have pictures, and none of it appeared to be mac n’ cheese. He also ordered an entire bottle of Chateau Lafite Rothschild for the table, which you divined from the slight puffing out of his chest was meant to impress you.
When it didn’t, things went back to being sulky and awkward. By the time the bread arrived at the table, he had already downed a glass, and reached to pour himself another.
Instead of grabbing the open bottle, he completely misjudged the distance and knocked it on its side with a string of swears. Dark red liquid poured out onto the table. Acting quickly, you reached to pick it up, but collided with Chilton who was also trying to salvage the bottle, and succeeded only in batting it toward him where a puddle of wine began overflowing over the edge onto his suit.
Puddle! Spilling! You needed to mop up the excess quickly! You grabbed slices of baguette and started soaking it up.
“Why are you using bread when there are napkins for this?” Chilton hissed.
“I don’t know! You’re the dumbass who knocked over the Roth IRA Burgundy.”
His eyes bulged from his skull. “Rothschild! Bordeaux! And it wasn’t that bad until you flung it at me!”
“Do you want to help, or do you want to continue berating me?”
“I am more than capable of doing both!” he cried, grabbing a napkin and righting the bottle.
The table was a complete disaster. Wine even got all over your stupid fancy pen, which matched the stupid fancy pen in his office. Oh. That was sort of sweet, actually. As you wiped it dry, you noticed it had your name inscribed around one of the silver rings.
The waiter hurried over to assist, and Chilton looked positively mortified.
“Sorry,” you shrugged sheepishly. “I’m a little clumsy.”
After much fussing and cleaning was finished, Chilton sat back in his chair, eyes boring into you. He swallowed.
“Why did you...?”
“They already think I’m a mess, this way they’ll at least let you back in here.”
“Well, that is very…” a dark blush crept up his neck from under his collar. “You didn’t have to do that"
You reached your hand across the fresh tablecloth, and he took it, rubbing soft circles in the flesh between your thumb and forefinger. (It was a testament to your familiarity that the massive, ostentatious gold ring he always wore no longer felt in the way when you held his hand.) His eyes lingered on you, and the blush continued working its way up to his face.
Things felt open enough to quietly ask, “So, what is all this, anyway? You’ve never wanted to take me out before.”
“I assumed you wanted something from me; you have been ignoring me,” he bristled slightly at your density. “If this is not it, then what?”
You blinked. He really thought you’d been holding out on him to… get something? And the way his voice strained when he asked, “then what?” told you he would do whatever it was you requested.
You shook your head at the tablecloth and squeezed his hand. “The way you left the other day, I assumed you didn’t want to be around me.”
“Oh.” The brilliant psychiatrist hadn’t thought of that.
He didn’t apologize, and you knew he never would (about anything—it was one of the reasons so many people wanted to punch him), but his demeanor softened and any resentment you’d been holding onto faded with his dumbfounded expression.
“So.” You cleared your throat. “How’s… uh, psychiatry?”
“Well, most daily therapy sessions I have delegated to focus on writing…” He launched into a mundane description of his work, and you just… talked. Like a normal couple. It was strange in its ordinariness, but it was nice to not have your entire interaction revolve around getting dick. It made going back to his mansion after dinner and getting dick even more meaningful. You were sure this time he would let you stay.
When he tried to send you away again, you had had enough.
  *****
“I don’t understand, what changed?” you asked a little too brusquely and immediately regretted it. “I know you need space,” you breathed out in a more understanding tone, “but I need to know where we stand… Do you want to break up with me?”
He froze in the middle of throwing a shirt on over his bare chest and dropped it back into the dresser, turning to gawk at you with shocked-wide eyes. “What? No! Of course not.”
That was a relief at least. “Then why won’t you let me stay?”
He was far too exposed: his abdominal scar still prominently pointing up to his blaze of brown chest hair, and you, ambushing him in his own bedroom. “You cannot let it go, can you? You want to know?!” he snapped, limping resentfully across the room. He had reached a breaking point. “It’s because I cannot sleep with the prosthetics in.”
“The...” your brain crashed and you frantically clicked enter on the reboot screen, “...prosthetics…?”
He scowled. “Did you believe the bullet passed neatly through the copious empty space in my skull without causing any collateral damage? That this little scar is the sum total of my injury?”
Of course. You hadn’t even considered that there was more to his near-fatal shooting than what you saw on the surface. It was breathtakingly ignorant now that you thought about it. He was shot. In the head. He spent weeks at an expensive medical resort where they could perform all kinds of reconstructive miracles, and he let you believe he was dead until they had finished whatever it was they were fixing.
“Show me.”
His face twitched. “You do not want to know.”
“I do.”
“Then I do not wish you to know.”
“Why?”
Emotion boiled under his face, but he breathed in through his nose and kept his outward composition calm, controlled. “It would change the way you see me. Every time you look at me, I do not want you to see that.”
You crossed the room to him. Gently, you put your hand on his arm, and slowly rubbed up and down. His breathing was shallow, controlled but barely. He didn’t push you away. You wrapped your arms around him and buried your face in his neck, listening to his pulse whispering a swift beat. “I just want to know you, Frederick. Please.”
  *****
Doctors had seen it. That was by necessity: he had paid for the best cosmetic prosthetics available in the country to look exactly like his old self, with the exception of the scar on his left cheek which could never be fully hidden.
He had shown it to Mason Verger, but that, too, was different—a mutual display of their motivations for revenge. It was almost a contest to see who was the more disgusting, the most wronged.
You would not be the first to see his face, but you were the first whom he cared about disgusting. The first whom he cared about. He did not want to see you recoil from him in shock. He did not want to lose you. He did not want you to see the darkness hanging over him.
He acquiesced, but refused to make a circus display of taking his teeth out in front of you, and vanished into the master bathroom for a long time. As you waited, you rehearsed not reacting—not showing a hint of shock that would make him regret the choice to let you in—yet as each minute ticked by, you grew more and more anxious.
The door opened.
“Jesus fuck.”
His lower eyelid sagged without the support of a massive chunk of facial bone holding it in place, and the eye within was the milky blue-white of a fish preserved in formaldehyde. The skin of his cheek sagged over half a mouth of missing teeth, and the left corner of his lip hung slightly too loose.
“Eloquent as always,” he said, adding some bite to the word. He hoped you knew what a jerk you were.
You rushed in to hold him, and he stiffened, looking away. “Oh, your eye,” you whined. He must have been completely blind in it, but he masked it so well you never noticed. He flinched as you touched his face.
“Don’t,” he whispered.
You pulled your hand back and searched his expression. “Do you want me to stop?”
He thought about it, and huffed, rolling one eye. You were being so cute, and at least not fleeing in terror. He stuck his chin out. “Go ahead. Do what you want.”
With a sour frown, he let you explore his skin with your fingertips, finding scars and hollow cavities where bone was supposed to be. “You’re missing… oh, god, it must have shattered the maxillary bone, and,” you felt farther back, continuing to find hollow gaps. “Oh god, baby…”
“Do not pity me, it is unbecoming.”
“Heh,” you breathed, slyly sliding your hands up over his shoulders and arcing them loosely around the back of his neck. “I thought you didn’t care about my motivations,” you said, languidly drawing out each vowel.
That earned an irritated look, finally meeting your gaze. You grinned back.
“Sorry,” you said, biting your lip.
You kissed him all along the sagging side of his mouth, pressing your lips to every new contour and texture. A few worried noises escaped his throat, along with half-formed words of caution of what you might not want to kiss, but they were quickly swallowed by groans of pleasure as you worshiped his mouth, reveling in each new discovery. All his imperfections were perfect, and you wanted him to feel that in every touch, filling each glowing breath with all the love and acceptance in your heart.
“Does it hurt?”
“Not anymore, but it itches.”
“I hate itches.”
“As do I,” he breathed.
You kissed him again, this time his tongue danced along your lips to taste you. It darted between your teeth, curling around your tongue as his strong hands snaked around the back of your head, pulling you harder into the kiss. He grunted, teeth clashing with yours as your lips interlocked with feral passion, consuming each other until your lips were bruised and you had to break away, breathless and panting.
“I’m so glad you're alive,” you smiled, trying not to let tears well up in the corners of your eyes. “You came back to me. You’re amazing, you know that? What you can survive.”
His chest puffed out a little. He was amazing, wasn’t he? But when he spoke again, it was sullen.
“I did not want you to see what a monster I’ve become.”
You shook your head. “You’re still beautiful. Absolutely perfect. I’m sorry it happened, but you know I’m going to love you no matter what…” You trailed off as a word snagged in your throat. Did you just say…
“You love me?”
Dry. Your throat suddenly felt drier than sandpaper, and swallowing didn’t fix it. You weren’t supposed to admit that to him. He was going to tease you, to twist it around somehow to use against you—
“I love you, too.”
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antpernas · 3 years
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1/23/21
This day was... whew boy. A trip.
So, we started off alright, we woke up at an OK time but didn’t end up getting ready to do stuff until after my parents had left for work. At that point, we decided to *get it on* which was SOOOO much fun. Douching together was hilarious, and a nice little throwback to when we first met. It was also nice to finally have sex with someone that I truly, deeply cared about again, and (MOST IMPORTANTLY) to have it be reciprocated. The fact that it was good sex was just a nice perk :) Definitely boosted my confidence with topping, since it had been so long!
After we finished up, we started getting ready to head north! Our first task was to test my kayak and see if it would hold up under our combined weights. The answer; barely! But barely would HAVE to do, since the beach I wanted to take him to was only accessible by boat or by kayak. We loaded my kayak, and this time I made sure that I actually grabbed the oars! Then, off we went!
Before we got to the park, we made a stop at Joseph’s market to get some lunch. Oh my GODDD how horrible a decision that was!! Scorpio was, yet again, overwhelmed with the many choices available to him. He ended up buying various quantities of different items, as opposed to doing the dinner combo like I had suggested, and spent just a bit too much money on food. But, GREAT food, so in my opinion it was worth it! Though, I’m sure his wallet didn’t feel the same.
Afterwards, we made a straight shot to the park, all the while making sure my kayak wasn’t slipping off my car to go tumbling into traffic like a large boulder the size of a small boulder. I think Scorpio ate a little bit while I was driving, and I, as always, took the opportunity to show him more music. This time, I showed him the soundtrack to the sequel of the game I tried to get us to play the night before, which we ended up dozing off while playing. Once we got there, I parked so I could eat my food, then we started getting ready to launch!
Getting into the kayak was the simple partl. The real challenge was getting across to the entrance. Poor Scorpio had to sit in the seat and row us across on this barely balanced kayak, otherwise the weight wasn’t properly distributed. I remember him asking me to hold him tighter while he rowed, which was just... UGH butterflies! It was in this moment that I started singing “Go the Distance,” sparking a new, very unique step in my intimacy with him. Singing seriously was something I had never done in front anyone, and especially not intentionally. I felt very vulnerable, but it was also kind of liberating. And he told me it helped, which made me feel even better. Soon enough, we made it across!
The walk to the beach was gorgeous, and we ended up sparking a discussion about Disney movies and Broadway musicals, which was a part of my memories I hadn’t brushed off in a LONG time. It was also interesting to hear about some of his experiences with them. As much as I love to talk, hearing him talk about his past or his life at any time he felt comfortable sharing it was so amazing. It was almost like it made him seem more real to me, like he wasn’t just this perfect, extraterrestrial angel that brought happiness everywhere he went, but in fact, a human! It was nice.
We ended up singing some more until we got to the beach, which was choppy as SHIT. I already knew from the clouds that it wouldn’t be a good day for snorkeling, but to say I had anticipated the water to be that bad would be a lie. We ended up making an attempt for a few minutes before we just decided to swim normally and then walk the beach and chat more. At some point, we turned around to start trying to get to the exit, but we couldn’t find it! We ended up passing it and hitting the north end of the beach/island, talking about musicals and stuff the entire way there. We found a pretty cool abandoned jetty/pier thing, though, which was SUPER cool. We decided to risk losing the daylight and walked along it while chatting some more.
We got a ways into the path before he stopped me for a second and said there was something he wanted to tell me.
Oh boy.
He didn’t even finish the sentence before I knew where this was going. And then he said it. “I just don’t think I like you that way... You’re like a bro to me.” Surprisingly, I took this pretty well at first! I didn’t cry, didn’t pout, and I think I handled it pretty well. But then we sort of finished the conversation that we were having and it went dead silent between us. And THAT’S when I started to feel it.
I don’t even think I can recount the absolute rollercoaster of emotions and thoughts I had while we started searching for the exit again. I tried my best to be as sweet and enthusiastic as I normally was with him, but I just wasn’t in the headspace to do it, I don’t think. And halfway through the walk back to the dock from the beach exit, I just started choking on my tears. I remember just being so very... conflicted? Angry? Sad? I just couldn’t even begin to piece it together. I was disgusted with myself for thinking I was mad at Scorpio simply because he didn’t feel the same way about me, and I felt stupid for even thinking to feel entitled to that from him in the first place, even though, up until that point, it had never occurred to me that I was! I still don’t even think I was; my mind was just trying to jump to an easy answer to the questions I had bouncing in my head, and blaming Scorpio seemed like the most simple solution, even though every part of me knew that’s not what I wanted to do.
I kept thinking about it, though, and once we were coming up on the entrance, I finally realized who I was REALLY angry at; myself. I was angry because I felt stupid for devoting so much of myself to someone who never felt the same way, for potentially making someone I cared about so much feel that they were obligated to show me that same affection back. Once I came upon this realization, the waterworks REALLY started coming down. But it was liberating to know that I wasn’t truly angry at Scorpio. Really, all I felt in my heart for him was, and is, love. And it was comforting to know that there was nothing more to this situation than that it just. Plain. Sucked. We can’t control who we get butterflies for, and it just so happened that Scorpio didn’t feel that way for me. And that’s okay!
(Sidebar, he chipped his toenail soon after he told me that, and joked that the universe was already putting him in his place. I have a thing to say about that later.)
And this is when I asked myself one very important question; what’s next? That’s what I got to mull on once we got to the kayak and I had to hold him while he rowed us across again, still in silence.
Loading the kayak was a bit of a chore, but we managed to do it and started heading on our way. As much as I tried to hold back my tears once we started going, it just wasn’t happening. This was especially true once I REALLY tried to choke them back to finish talking about the soundtrack to the game I was showing him. The floodgates were OPENED. But it was a relief.
We started chatting and I got what I wanted to say off my chest; that it was all okay. That I realized I’m just mad at myself, and that it’s not his fault that he doesn’t feel the same way for me (not that he needed my validation or anything). I thanked him for being honest and giving me the chance to see him again, as well as this closure, and I apologized for being distant while we were heading back to my car. He was reassuring through all of this, telling me that it was okay, and making sure I understood that he still wanted to be friends, as long as I wanted to be.
And this is when I sort of came upon an answer to that question. I realized a LOT in that hour~ long period after he told me what he needed to, but perhaps the most important takeaway for me is that I just want to be happy. All the other details about situations are semantics; if I love someone and it makes me happy to spend time with them, then I should do it! And if it doesn’t, then I won’t. It’s as simple as that. It doesn’t matter if we’re dating, if we’re friends, or whatever it may be; I didn’t even have concrete definitions for those anyway, so this thought process was the real answer to all my problems. Do what makes me happy. And Scorpio makes me happy. So even if he doesn’t love me the same way, if he wants to be friends, then I’m thankful he’s not just cutting me out of his life and I get to spend more time with him some day! I just need time to get over the heartbreak and adjust to our new relationship. A strong relationship at that.
The “thing” I had to say earlier was that I didn’t by any means want Scorpio to feel as though he deserved some kind of punishment just for breaking my heart. I can already imagine it sucks to hurt someone you care about, and the last thing I would ever want is to rub salt in his wounds. I may poke fun about it in the future when we see each other again, but I would never want to make him feel as though he needs to truly be ashamed or guilty for being honest with me. It’s sort of for this same reason that I don’t like saying he “broke my heart.” Even though he did, just saying it like that paints him as an antagonist, when really, he was just honest with me, and he still means the world to me. He made me realize I need better friends, JAJA!
But, yeah! That was my internal journey, and after that all that was left was to heal, mostly. On the way home, I gushed more about the soundtrack and we chatted about my background with music. He said he was always impressed with me and how I’d taught myself so much about music, and it made me feel all sheepish, but good! We stopped at my old middle school and took a walk around the park/trail right outside of it, and chatted a little bit more about me and my childhood. Once we finished there, we hopped back in the car and went home.
For the most part, home was alright! The only weird part was figuring out our new boundaries, and since everything was so fresh, I wasn’t sure where I wanted to set them. Of course, the ball was in my court, but I didn’t want to suddenly turn on a dime and act as if I didn’t like Scorpio at all, because that would never be the case! My second greatest regret of that trip was not cuddling him when we went to sleep that night.
EDIT: I LIED we tried to play Monument Valley before we went to sleep but we ended up dozing off. Also we talked about our views on relationships when we parked at Red Reef park.
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thedeaditeslayer · 4 years
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Running Time Restored Interview: 1997 Josh Becker and Bruce Campbell Indie Gets a New Life in 2K.
You can read the full interview on the upcoming release With Josh Becker, Bruce Campbell, and Don May Jr. from Diabolik Magazine below. 
In 1995 on New Year’s Eve, Josh Becker had an idea. Born out of a session pondering Alfred Hitchcock’s legendary, true crime classic, Rope, he decided that he was going to improve upon the master of suspense’s legendary concept of shooting a film in real time. A daunting task but Becker was up to the challenge.
What resulted was perhaps one of the most ambitious efforts to ever grace the silver screen, Running Time. This neo-noir thriller about a heist gone wrong and a small-time criminal who rekindles his love affair with his high-school sweetheart was a hidden gem that didn’t get the recognition that it deserved. Written expressly for Becker’s childhood friend and Super 8 cohort, Bruce Campbell, the pair were once again, doing gonzo-style filmmaking just like when they were growing up in Michigan with the likes of Sam Raimi and Rob Tapert.
Josh Becker was and is an adventurous soul who does things his way, just like the director gods of old. When I think of his work, the names of John Ford, William Wyler and John Huston readily spring to mind. There is something admirable about his driven determination that was the heart and soul of this black and white throwback to another era which is ultimately endearing. Yes, I have a special place in my heart for Running Time because it is honest and not filled with “tentpole” tendencies. At the core of it is the written word. The end result is one of the most overlooked masterpieces of both Becker’s and Campbell’s careers.
What is truly amazing is that this flick was shot in two weeks and that everyone went home early. It was like having a 9 to 5 job. No 18-hour-days, just fast, efficient, run and gun style filmmaking that resulted in a production that could stand toe to toe with noir classics from a bygone era like The Petrified Forest and Desperate Hours.
Prior to Running Time, Bruce was known predominantly for his work in the horror and science fiction genres which can sometimes be limiting for an actor. Becker gave him an incredible script to work with that really showcased his range as a thespian. Behind the smart-ass quips and bravado lies a talented individual who takes his craft seriously. He is capable of creating complex characters and he is most assuredly fit to be a romantic lead.
I had the chance to sit down with the major players in the restoration of Running Time (Josh Becker, Bruce Campbell, Don May, Jr. and Gerry Kissell) to reminisce about the journey of this film from its humble beginnings to preserving this indie classic for future generations.
The Director and His Muse
Diabolique: Bruce, I have to start off by telling you that Running Time is my favorite out of all of your films.  
Bruce Campbell: It’s a cool, little flick. Too bad it sort of escaped, it wasn’t released as the old joke goes.
Diabolique: What I like so much about it is the neo-noir aspect. It’s a throwback to the 40’s and 50’s. In Josh’s book, Rushes, he talks about how he convinced you to be in the film. You weren’t getting paid and you invested in it. What was his pitch, how did he sell the concept to you?
BC: The pitch was that it was NOT McHale’s Navy. I just spent 11 weeks in Mexico just sort of bullshitting our way through that film where we would make up our lines of dialogue because there was nothing written for us. In the script it would say things like, “McHale and his guys get off the boat,” “McHale and his men go to Cuba.” Which means they hadn’t thought anything up for you. I did it because I liked the show as a kid. It was a very popular thing; it was from Universal. It made sense at the time. It was just a case of when something is underwritten, the problem that it causes actors. I had just come off of that, and Running Time was very ambitious, low budget it was meant to be this conceit of being done in one shot so it was cinematic. So, I was like, okay, yeah. It was like the anti-studio movie, small crew, fast moving and yet no money. Basically, I invested the money that I was paid back into the movie in order for them to make it. It was definitely for a love of the movie type deal.
Josh Becker: I’ve known Bruce since we were twelve and I’d seen him in a number of plays. I knew that he had a much bigger range as an actor than he’d had a chance to show at that point. Plus, he’s a pleasure to work with. Once I pitched him the idea, he was all for it, partially because the long takes are a way for an actor to really show their ability.
Diabolique: Thinking about your filmography, Bruce, you haven’t played a traditional romantic lead. Do you see Running Time as a love story of sorts?
BC: What’s funny is Josh had Carl come back. In a proper film noir, he would have gone, you would have heard the tires squeal and she would be sitting there crying and the credits would roll and that would be it. It would be bleak, but Josh deep down is a sentimentalist and I think I am too. We had no issue with the happy ending. We wanted to make the audiences think for quite a long period of time that it’s going to be a sad ending. She packs her bag and then she unpacks it. The whole thing is quite an extended piece but I thought it was well worth playing just to kind of throw a little wrinkle in it. Maybe even in a criminal story you can have a happy ending.
Diabolique: In terms of the storyline, Josh, we all know that Rope was the blueprint for Running Time. You hadn’t made a film in 7 years. What was it about that production that captured your imagination besides the challenge of the “long take”?
JB: Part of my inspiration was simply getting another feature film made after seven years of working in television, which was never my goal.  But as I thought about Rope, I wondered why the continuous, real-time concept didn’t really have any impact on the story. Then it occurred to me that there was no time element involved.  Two young men—ostensibly Leopold and Loeb—have killed another young man for the fun of it, put the body in a chest, then invited people over for a party, including a cop. Well, if the chest was spring loaded and had a timer on it so that at some point it would pop open and reveal the corpse, that would be a time element. So, I thought, how do you use the real time technique and add a ticking clock? The first story that came to mind was a heist which generally has a time element—we’ve got to get the money and get out of here before we’re caught.
Diabolique: Running Time was shot in sequence like a play. Did it pose any challenges for you as an actor?
BC: I liked what Josh was trying to do. These long uninterrupted takes from an actor’s point of view, you know stuff can get really choppy these days. My complaint from Burn Notice is they wouldn’t let a full sentence stay on camera; they would have to cut away to somebody else. It felt like they had to keep cutting, cutting and cutting. This movie was no cutting for like ten minutes at a time. It’s great from an actor’s perspective because you can feel the juices flowing. It’s like a play. You can work on the pacing; you can have something build over a period of time and minutes to play out in literally real time. It’s a real time crime drama. I liked it conceptually and it was challenging. There was a fair amount of dialogue because my guy, Carl is calling the shots. I thought it was a good premise. Guy gets out of prison turns right around and robs the prison because he knows how the prison laundry system works. I thought that was pretty sound. I am always sympathetic for the low budget independent movie. I always will be.
Diabolique: Were there any other films that influenced you and your writing partner, Peter Choi? The entire concept is very noir and the desperate situation that Carl finds himself in is reminiscent of any number of films from the 1940s.
JB: My main inspiration was Straight Time with Dustin Hoffman, an overlooked movie from 1978. And though I didn’t think of it at the time, several folks brought up Joseph Lewis’s Gun Crazy after it came out, and I do see that. The film has one long take in it during a bank robbery, and even though the camera stays in the backseat of a car, it has that same feeling of a real time event.
Diabolique: I know you are a fan of classic movies, Bruce and in a sense Running Time reminds me of Desperate Hours or The Petrified Forest especially when the robbery is botched and the situation is escalating in the enclosed office. Did you find any inspiration from the noir genre for your portrayal of Carl?
BC: No, but the classic tough guys were always awesome. We loved them all, Bogart and Robert Mitchum…the fact that Josh shot the film in black and white was perfect. Because it really helped lend itself to a look of that time period when Jack Palance was a leading man.
Diabolique: In your book Rushes, you talked about your decision to shoot in 16 mm Kodak ASA 64 black and white stock. You get sharper images due to the finer grain of the film, but did that pose any problems in terms of showcasing your work at that time since most people weren’t shooting in black and white?
JB:  I didn’t think of it regarding showcasing my work. I thought it was appropriate for the subject matter and that it would be visually striking.  Also, moving the camera from inside to outside in color posed the problem of adding or removing filters which would not be an issue with black and white.
Diabolique: You shot over a period of 10 days which was unheard of even back in the 90’s. How were you able to keep things moving along?
JB: It was based on pre-planning. I knew exactly what I wanted. We rehearsed the film and the actors were all very comfortable with the dialogue. Then it was just an issue of getting the complicated camera moves in regard to the actor’s blocking to work right, and that didn’t turn out to be all that difficult.
Diabolique: As an actor, did you enjoy working on an accelerated timetable?
BC: It was exciting to do and so different. The toughest thing was the technical demands. It wasn’t like there were explosions and stuff like that. But in order to do blocking inside of an apartment, the camera is moving in circles, well, the crew had to move every object behind the camera before it got there and then had to put it back before the camera saw it again. So, there was a lot of voodoo, a lot of magic. We would rehearse and rehearse and rehearse and we could never get it right. Finally, we were like fuck it. Let’s just start shooting because everyone gets a little more alert when you shoot. That did it. That allowed us to conquer the impossible. After 3 or 4 takes if we got it, we were done even if it was 10:30 in the morning. I don’t think we spent more than two thirds of a day getting that particular shot. The end result is cool. I’ve seen the cleaned-up version without all the scratches and the dust marks. You can’t even tell what year it is. It almost seems like its videotape transferred like those teledramas of the 60’s that were done on TV. There were moments in the film that weren’t perfect, and that’s okay.
Diabolique: When I revisited Running Time recently, I was impressed with how well it holds up because some efforts don’t. With the 2K restoration, Bruce, this will give your fans a chance to see it. For some, it might be their first time. Do you have a scene that you are particularly fond of?
BC: There’s some scenes that are fun to do. After I get shot, I am in Janie’s apartment and she’s trying to put me together, that fainting on the toilet while she’s trying to patch me together it felt kind of real, playing shot and being delirious. Stuff like that. Just fun to be able to take the moment to do it.
Diabolique: Josh, do you feel shooting in black and white made the 2K restoration more challenging?
JB:  Slow speed black and white film stock has a lot of silver in it which creates an inordinate amount of static electricity. When I did the initial film transfer back in 1997, the negative kept getting covered with dust, causing us to have to stop and clean the film every 30-60 minutes. Since the transfer was $375 an hour—in 1997 dollars—I could only stop so many times before it became financially prohibitive.  Dust on a black and white negative shows up as white dots. Using the newest technology, Don May was able to remove all of the dust digitally. Therefore, the film has never looked as good as it does now.
Diabolique: What excites you the most about Running Time getting restored, Bruce?
BC: I am always happy when something gets re-released which means in this case, it gets preserved. It will look fantastic in 2K. That’s why with all these reissues fans are like, “Why should we care?” Like well, if you care about preservation, this means it will be the latest version of a movie that is fairly obscure. Sometimes a movie can die on the vine because no one will pay the money to keep it current. Now, we can show the sucker, hopefully, anywhere.
Diabolique: Josh, do you have any plans to showcase Running Time once the restoration is completed? This is a great film that fans should definitely see.
JB: We have no plans at the moment, but then the film isn’t out yet. When it’s done, we’ll see what happens.
Breathing New Life into Running Time: The Art of Restoration
Don May, Jr. along with Jerry Chandler and Charles Fiedler created Synapse Films in 1997. Known for their work in preserving unique genre classics, May had previously collaborated with Josh Becker when his company restored the director’s 1985 production, Thou Shalt Not Kill…Except.
Gerry Kissell was the official artist on Running Time and will be reprising his role for the 2K restoration. He has been friends with Josh since the Freaky Film Festival where he and Bruce premiered the film on the University of Illinois campus.
Both gentlemen were kind enough to take time out of their busy schedules to talk to us.
Diabolique: Were you able to obtain the original negative for Running Time?
Don May, Jr: Yes, thankfully. Josh Becker is a true movie fan and loves the filmmaking process, so we were fortunate to work with him. He kept everything stored properly in a climate-controlled vault, as a man who cares about his movies should.
Diabolique: Can you talk about the scanning process for 2K?
DMJ: The 16mm negative was separated into A/B rolls, so we had to scan a lot of reels separately at Prasad in Burbank, CA. Luckily, because of the actual nature of the “one-take” aesthetic Josh utilized, there were only a total of about 30 cuts in the entire film… hidden in editing, of course. So, we basically scanned the 30 separate shots, and then assembled them digitally using DaVinci Resolve. We had to be VERY careful the way we put the 30 cuts back together, making sure the shots were frame accurate and of the proper length. Unlike a film that has a conformed negative separated into 10- or 20-minute reels, Running Time was all in separate pieces, with each shot edited on separate reels. It was a challenge, but we were able to use a previous master as a reference and most of it went together without a hitch. Being shot in B&W also helped in color correction to hide the edits properly to make the real-time aspect as seamless as possible. Once the film was properly assembled, we were able to ship everything off to India for restoration. Because Josh had everything stored properly for decades, the negative itself was fairly free of a lot of dirt and scratches, but we did carefully sonically clean all the pieces before scanning commenced.
Diabolique: How long does it take the digital artists to fix debris or scratches on the original negatives?
DMJ: There’s a lot of data wrangling involved. Copying data for safety. Making backups, etc. But we have a great working relationship with Prasad. They have worked on such classics as Lawrence of Arabia, How the West Was Won, A Fistful of Dollars, Gandhi, The Red Shoes, etc. They do the lion’s share of my output, and I put a lot of trust in them. They’ve never failed me. We do ship the film scans to India and that takes time. I think Running Time took about 4-5 months. I let them take their time, though, because I don’t want to have to keep sending things back for fixes. With Running Time, they did an excellent job, right from my first restoration test reels. But, again, Josh had taken very good care of his materials, so it wasn’t much of a challenge.
Diabolique: Gerry, what artwork did you originally provide for Running Time and what can we expect from you for the 2K restoration?
Gerry Kissell: I did promotional art that ended up on tee-shirts. It included the shot of the three main characters, which I called Tres Hombres, on one, Jeremy Roberts aiming the pistol at the camera on another, and the last, which you’ve seen of Bruce’s mug all heroic and chinny. All of the art was done on Bristol cold press illustration board. The new painting for the Synapse release is me, 20+ years later, a tad bit better at drawing and painting, lol.
Diabolique: Besides the idea of preserving Running Time, Don, what attracted you to the project?
DMJ: We had worked previously with Josh on Thou Shalt Not Kill…Except, and we had a lot of fun with that one. I like working with Josh. He’s a great guy, and I love that he’s so passionate about film. He loves movies, and he loves MAKING movies. It’s so great to see people like Josh doing things like Running Time, back when using computers to do a “one take” approach was non-existent. You see things today like the film 1917, which is a fine film in its own right, but they cheated a lot of its “one take” aspect using computers. Josh did Running Time, but used his brain, and actual organic film splicing and editing to achieve the same result. He’s smart, funny, talented and I love working with people like him. It also doesn’t hurt that Running Time stars Bruce Campbell, so… yeah… of course, we jumped at the chance to do it.
Diabolique: When can fans expect to see the Running Time 2K restoration?
DMJ: I would imagine late summer/early fall 2020. We’re wrapping up extras and artwork now.
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Can you do like a 7 minute in heaven series or like a spin the bottle one? I know it's a lot to ask. If you like the idea but you can't make it into a whole series please do either or ( the 7 min or spin the bottle) but with Kags, Noya, Suga. ( as reader inserts please (( the guys like the person they're paired with)) ) no specific theme out of that story thing. Since you're the writer I want it to seem as natural as it can be for the guys being stuck in this game w/ their crush.
I can DEFINITELY do that!! The ask box is technically still open? Lmao like I never made a post about it being closed - so if you guys want something for this prompt, just send in the character and the challenge (7 min in heaven or spin the bottle) - and I’ll write something up for you when I get to it! :D Thanks for the request/idea love! - Admin Satori
Kageyama Tobio: 7 Minutes in Heaven
Nervous.
That’s really all you could figure you were feeling in this moment. Super nervous. Sweaty hands. Fast heartbeat - you were surprised you hadn’t fainted yet with how shot your nerves were!
For years you’d been dying for this moment. You knew it had to happen tonight - all the signs pointed to it happening tonight!
You would finally be able to spend some time with your crush. Kageyama Tobio. Sour King of the Court…. Just a little time with him and you could be happy for the rest of your life… probably….
“______, it’s your turn to spin…” Your friend, Yukino, prompted beside you, nudging you with her shoulder to get your attention on the present.
“O-oh! Sorry, sorry!” You smiled sheepishly, leaning forward and taking the cool glass bottle in your hand, feeling the heat of your skin fog up the glass. Jeez, was there any way for you to calm down your nerves?
Did he notice? You glanced up from the cool bottle in your hand, just before spinning it, to see his intense blue eyes trained on your hand. Waiting. He was as smooth as stone - not a single vibe of positive or negative coming off of him…. A master of shielding himself - you wanted to be the one to peel back the layer, to see his true self.
You must have been waiting too long because suddenly his eyes were on you and you were drowning in his oceans. A hiccup of a gasp left you as you set the bottle spinning on the wooden floor, hearing it clatter and clink as it made its rounds, pointing at everyone in the group. Your heart hammered in your chest, your eyes having immediately fallen to the bottle the second you’d let it loose.
Clink, clink, clink, the bottle continued to spin - slowing with every rub of the floor against its smooth surface. You held your breath as it continued to slow, finding the person you’d spend a few minutes with in the closet. Away from everyone’s curious gaze, you didn’t know what you’d be doing….
With Hinata… He was too cute, but in a plushy toy sort of way. The sweet boy stared at the bottle before glancing at you, seeing you were staring at him had his face flushing with embarrassment and a wide smile breaking his otherwise cheerful expression.
With Tsukishima, your eyes slowly traveled to his disinterested expression. He wasn’t even looking at the bottle. What would you do if you got him? Hide in the darkness, pretend he wasn’t there? He wasn’t exactly scary or really intimidating… Just mean… Mean-looking.
What would you do if you got sweet, freckled Yamaguchi? He was probably just as nervous as you were. When he’d reach for the bottle, his hand would shake. He’d already spent a few minutes in the closet with your friend… You hadn’t been able to hear anything during that time… But she’d come out pleased, and him flustered…. So you figured he was already a betted on young man.
A full house overall, young adults well into the party swing of things, ready to have fun and explore each other - young enough to have those raging hormones and old enough to have that liquid courage flowing through their veins.
Finally, finally… it started to slow.
Yamaguchi…… Tsukishima…. Kiyoko…… Hinata…. Yachi….
Kageyama.
It landed on him. You couldn’t believe it. You sat there dumbfounded as he rose to his feet easily. As if he’d been expecting it.
“______….” You blinked rapidly, smiling sheepishly again to your friend before standing and walking after Kageyama’s tall form to the closet. The doors closed behind the two of you and the time began.
All idea of what to do in this situation left you. You couldn’t even see him, honestly - your hand reaching out, hesitantly, until it came into contact with his sleeve.
The sudden touch surprised him, and he blinked in the darkness to gain accustomed to the limited light - being able to make out shapes and outlines after a few seconds.
You were fumbling, he could tell, and he offered his hand to the one gripping his arm, “Sorry… You probably wanted someone else…” His voice was quiet, though his delivery was a bit choppy - was he nervous, too?
“N-No! No… uh….” You fumbled now with your words, taking his offered hand in yours. It was cold, yet slick…. Definitely nervous. “I actually… really wanted to spend time with you….” Heat rushed to your face, and you were absolutely taken by surprise by your…. confidence? Or was this word vomit?
“Me?” His volumed raised in his surprise. Kageyama cleared his throat, his hand holding yours a bit tighter now, reminding himself these few minutes were precious and between only the two of you. “Me? Why? I mean….” He didn’t know what he meant, he didn’t know what he’d wanted to ask, but the mere thought of you wanting to spend time with him was…. unbelievable.
You didn’t answer right away, taking a deep breath before focusing your attention on his cool hand, your fingers lacing with his, your other hand resting on his opposite arm.
There wasn’t really anything more you could say that would make any sense. And you weren’t really one to be known for your actions, but this was different.
The closet for 7 minutes in heaven… You wanted some of that heaven, and the confidence you rarely found in yourself surged for that goal.
Leaning up on your toes, you pressed a kiss to his cheek…. Well, you aimed for his cheek.
But he’d sensed something coming close to his face and had turned his head.
Just in time for your lips to press against his.
Then the door opened, light flooding in and blinding the two of you as you pulled away in a hurry.
“Time’s up, love birds~.” The lanky young man cooed, motioning for you two to come on out and take your place back with the group.
“Actually….” Kageyama still held your hand in his, his other shielding his eyes from the bright light of the main room, “We’re not done.” Then he was pulling you back into the closet, taking the door of which and closing it behind him. Newly blind, but hungry.
He’d had a taste of heaven… And he wanted more.
Nishinoya Yuu: Spin the Bottle
How was this not a game of mono? Kissing anyone the bottle landed on?
You’d been kissed so many times now, and none of them were by the guy you really wanted. Sure, your best friend was sweet and awkward, Ennoshita was gentle but stiff…. Kyoutani was…. Rough to say the least - he bit your lip as if that’s how he normally kisses people… Tanaka was… Overly excited and a bit… messy.
Honestly, you were surprised he hadn’t full on gone into a make-out session with you.
Not that you wanted that from him.
Because your eyes were set on his best friend.
Nishinoya Yuu.
Who you’d seen kiss your best friend and had felt a fire in your belly you never had felt before. Jealousy. She’d sat back after the kiss with a less than impressed expression and the feeling turned to slight insult. She’d kissed your crush and had the audacity to show it didn’t meet her standards?
Petty, you’d wanted to bring up the trash boyfriends she’d had in the past, the junk drawer dwellers she’d kissed for hours over the course of your friendship… Bad choices…. And she had the nerve to pretend Nishinoya’s kiss didn’t blow them all out of the water?
His turn to spin, he wasn’t shy with the speed, almost sending the bottle flying off outside the realm of the group. Spinning, spinning, your eyes followed it - praying and praying it would land on you, it would grace you, bless you…..
For it to land on…. Not you.
A girl two people down from you. Nishinoya visibly deflated and leaned over the bottle, pecking the girl on the lips once before falling back beside Tanaka with his arms crossed.
When would it land on you?
The bottle made the rounds, spinning and spinning.
By the time it got to you, you’d kissed Ennoshita once more, Yahaba once…. And pretty much had Terushima’s tongue forced down your throat. You’d slapped him when you pushed him away, “It’s a kiss, right? Frenching is a kiss.” He’d defended with a playful laugh.
If it hadn’t been for the slight possibility of getting Nishinoya, you would have quit the game a long time ago. You would have left in a huff of embarrassment, and would have just… hid yourself away until the memory of this get together was far off in your memory to be blocked by any self-preservation.
Your turn…. You hesitated in spinning the bottle. Your hand shaking before finally resting on it. Did you really want this? Did you really just want a kiss from him and that was it? All of this? For just a peck?
Was it worth it?
“Yes….” You whispered to yourself, reinforcing your intense desire to kiss your crush. You’d walk on hot coals for him - though you really hope there wasn’t a sudden invention of that kind of game… You spun the bottle.
Spinning, spinning, you crossed your fingers and bit your lip, watching it with an intensity your best friend found… amusing. The guilt inside her for kissing your crush easily subsiding at the expression you were currently making. As if you were willing the bottle to land on him.
…. And it worked.
It slowed to a crawl as it neared Nishinoya.
…….Tanaka…… Futakuchi…… Mai… Aone..
Nishinoya.
“YES!” The both of you cheered at the same time.
Your eyes widened as you met his equally surprised expression. He’d wanted to kiss you? This whole time? You blushed deeply, his expression seemed to melt at the sight of your rosy cheeks; ‘Cute’ being the only thought at the sight of you.
Nishinoya wasted no time, his jitters getting the best of him, nerves exploding all at once, as he jumped to his feet - he couldn’t sit still any longer, and leaning over the bottle seemed to be a disservice to you…. You deserved so much better than a quick peck.
So he brought himself to you, squatting in front of where you kneeled, his hands taking yours… They were shaking, in nervousness or excitement you couldn’t really tell. But he was overflowing with emotion, and you were drowning in the liquid gold of it in his eyes as he leaned closer. And closer. And closer….
Until he yelped and fell to his side, hands falling from yours to his calf.
“Dead Leg.” Yamamoto snickered, pleased with himself.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” Nishinoya whined, gritting his teeth as his muscles spasmed painfully.
You gave Yamamoto a harsh glare, he’d ruined your moment, “Dick…” You moved so Nishinoya’s head was by your knees, lifting him up gently before resting his head on your lap.
It’s like the pain washed away with your touch, his eyes staring up at you in wonder. Were you filled with magic? The world of his he saw in your eyes definitely pointed to it being true. You smiled tenderly down at him, your heart hammering in your chest as you leaned down, pressing a kiss to his forehead - it was the only thing you could reach…. You damned your inflexible spine for letting you down.
But he wanted more. He wanted a kiss.
So he pushed himself up, his hand grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you down for a heated kiss.
Explosions of color, of feeling, of all this world’s secret wonders flashed in your head, in your heart. You squeaked in surprise before it easily turned into a hum of approval, your lips moving against his slowly.
“Get a room!” Tanaka teased with a wide smile, proud of his best friend for finally getting his girl.
Nishinoya waved off his friend, not daring to separate from your lips, smiling into the kiss at the passive groans of disgust surrounding the two of you.
Sugawara Koushi: Spin the Bottle
Whoever said older guys were intimidating… Had obviously never met this group of young men….
Kuroo and Bokuto were having a blast with their time, pulling the ‘there’s quarter in this bottle’ splash trick on Asahi more than once tonight and actually getting away with it. Daichi would get after them, like a father with his children, and Asahi would, bless his heart, just take it in good nature.
It was a party after all.. There were tricks and treats abound. The ball would fall tonight, and the real festivities would ramp it up to be… honestly? More amazing than it really was. A new year, new goals, and new things to do that aren’t really new.
Oikawa, too, was a target for pranks - though by his own teammates rather than acquaintances from other cities. Hanamaki and Matsukawa had no limits to the teasing and jokes on Oikawa. Iwaizumi usually having to go in and play father figure in those cases.
The fun was running rampant, yet you stayed well behind the sidelines - not wanting to be targeted, but also just wanting to enjoy the group. Celebrating life and celebrating good times.
All in good fun….
Until the better part of it turned into a… kissing competition of sorts.
You took your seat, next to Suga, “Are we really all doing this?” You asked him, finding his slightly embarrassed smile shooting straight to your heart. A literal angel putting up with the antics of his friends to make them happy… You were blessed to be sitting beside him.
“Well… I think the alcohol has gone to their heads… Especially Tokyo’s kids…” He nodded over to Bokuto and Kuroo, who were slurring harshly and laughing at nothing in particular. They wouldn’t be playing, but heckling from the sideline before either of them inevitably passed out. “Worst case scenario… Everyone falls asleep before the ball drops.” He chuckled patiently, and you felt your heart hiccup to the sound of him.
Sweet. Soft. The blush on your cheeks had no reason to be there, but it made sense to you - You’d had a crush on Suga for the better part of this last year. Being friends with him just didn’t feel fulfilling anymore…. You wanted more.
Your best friend sat beside you, sending a knowing wink towards you, “I think Wakatoshi should start us off!” How did that help you? What was with the wink? You gave her a confused raised eyebrow to which she pretended she didn’t see.
“Whaaat? Why not me~?” Oikawa pouted as he sat opposite of you, crossing his arms like an indignant child.
Iwaizumi smacked his head as he took a seat beside your best friend, “Because we don’t let children handle alcohol.” Oikawa whined in dismay, voicing his verification that he was not a child.
“Sounds like a baby, not a kid, is crying, Iwa-chan~…” Tendou hummed thoughtfully as he took his seat beside Ushijima, nursing his 2nd bottle of whatever alcohol had been brought by the already sloshed Tokyo boys.
Company. A bunch of friends, far and near, and your heart felt full with satisfaction.
Ushijima wasted no time, finding the conversation around him sort of bland, reaching forward and spinning the bottle. It spun and spun for a few rotations before landing on Yukie, Bokuto’s previous team manager. She blushed deeply as Ushijima easily, without much of a show, leaned over and pecked her lips. Nothing amazing, nothing too festive - perfectly fit with the young man who wore a stone expression even in the most joyous of occasions.
It didn’t stop Yukie’s face from exploding in color.
“Me, me, me! I wanna go next!” Oikawa didn’t wait for anyone to object before he was spinning the bottle, watching excitedly as it spun and spun and spun…. Landing on Ushijima. “What?” He squawked indignantly, reeling back from the bottles center as if it’d severely burned him, his expression scrunched in a not too attractive scowl, “Hard pass on that one! Let me go again!”
Matsukawa and Hanamaki could barely contain their laughter at their former captain’s misfortune, snickering around their directions of “You can’t get a second try!” “No, no, go ahead and give’m a smooch!” Their lips wobbling as they bit them closed at Oikawa’s hateful glare at them.
“Hurry it up, would ya? Waka-kun doesn’t have all night~.” Tendou smirked from over Ushijima’s shoulder, his red eyes peering down at Oikawa’s bitter expression from their corner as Oikawa leaned forward and pecked Ushjima.
It happened so fast, it almost felt like it hadn’t happened.
Though, the flash of a phone camera would eternalize the moment forever. Oikawa gasped loudly and turned to see where the flash came from. Daichi smirked from the other side of Suga, lowering his phone smugly as the mortified King sat down, scooting a bit from the group in his childish tantrum.
At Suga’s, and your, curious gazes, Daichi waved you two off, “For blackmail… Tooru is always pranking me… I could also probably sell it to Tetsurou and Koutarou…. Since they’d have a field day with it…” He smiled calmly, finding peace with his escape plans being lain out in front of him.
“Scary….” You and Asahi whispered at the same time, looking at each other in surprise before laughing quietly.
The bottle continued to spin. By the time it got to Suga, you’d been kissed by Iwaizumi, who was slow but passionate, by Semi, who was a little harsh, by Tendou, who was a little too much with his tongue, and Oikawa… who had really soft lips….
A variety of kisses, each different in feel and taste - and you’d enjoyed them… These young men were experienced with lovers and one night stands alike… So they knew how to kiss someone to either woo them or just get them out of their face…
But not the warmest feeling from Oikawa’s soft lips or the way Semi’s blush felt against your hands could really tame the feeling of jealousy in the pit of your stomach when you watched Kiyoko, Yui, Matsukawa and Suguru kiss Suga….
You wanted to kiss him.
Suga glanced around the circle once before spinning the bottle, glancing at you from the corner of his eye, quickly looking away with a tint of pink coloring the tips of his ears when you glanced up at him. Would he be lucky? Would the odds favor him?
The bottle spun and spun before slowly, ever so slowly, clinking to a slow…. Pointing to your best friend beside you.
A gust of wind left your sails as you sat there, glaring at the bottle, feeling…. sad? Upset? Jealous? Probably all three and more….
Until the clinking of the bottle sounded off again, bringing your attention back down to where a hand was slowly turning it to point directly at you. Suga’s hand. You followed his arm up to meet his eyes with your surprised ones, confused on what he was doing.
“Sorry…. I just… figured I should take my chance now instead of waiting for a whole round for the possibility.” His cheeks were pink, and he couldn’t look directly into your eyes, but his hand moved from the bottle to find yours beside him. Soft. Warm and soft.
Your best friend laughed, not really having wanted to step in your territory anyway, “Well, go on! You can’t change who the bottle obviously landed on.” She teased with a wide smile.
Though the rest of the group had a problem, bickering about how it was unfair - Oikawa’s whining being the loudest of them all… Neither you or Suga paid them any mind.
He rested his free hand on your cheek, cupping it tenderly, his thumb stroking your skin as he slowly leaned in. Your eyes slowly closed as he neared, as you leaned forward just the tiniest bit.
Your lips pressed against something hard and flat and your eyes flew open faster than ever before to see … well… not Suga. A paper fan had been slid between the two of you and you turned to glare at Oikawa as he proudly squatted in front of the two of you, “It’s against the rules, Koushi~kun~… I had to kiss Ushijima…. Now you have to kiss Yukino-chan.”
A huff of irritation left Suga, but you didn’t give him the chance to act before you reached out, laid your hand on Oikawa’s chest, and pushed back with a little force. He’d been squatting on the balls of his feet and immediately lost his balance with your push, falling backward into the center of the circle with a yelp. “Sucha baby~.” Matsukawa called over the groups snickering and laughter.
But you weren’t done in your actions, and your hands found Suga’s cheeks, one hand stroking beyond and into his soft silver hair. You smiled sweetly at his surprised expression, finding warmth in the change of it as you neared.
Then he was leaning forward and kissing you tenderly, sweetly, softly…. An angel’s kiss. Kiss of life. You breathed him in as you kissed, finally knowing without a doubt… He was your favorite kiss.
A/N: Send in the character and the challenge (7 min in heaven or spin the bottle) - and I’ll write something up for you
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survivor-guyana · 5 years
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Immunity Results #3
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Meet Your Judges!
DAN
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Hi sisters, it’s Dan, king of half faced selfies, here to roast your lip syncs
NEHE
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Hi sisters, it's Nehemiah, king of not winning a game he deserves to win, here to judge you guys like you never been judged before, p.s Tim stop stealing my role as the one straight black guy in the org community
CHARLOTTE
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hi sisters, i’m back from the dead and ready to roast some bitches. i honestly don’t remember if i’ve played more than one main season but i was in kuang si and really that’s the only one that matters. not sorry!
CONNOR
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hey sisters, hope you missed me because im still not coming back.
DENNIS
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Hi sisters, I was forced to write this start. But entertain me
JESS
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About three things I was absolutely positive. First, Edward was a vampire. Second, there was a part of him-and I didn't know how potent that part might be-that thirsted for my blood. And third, I was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him.
HOSORORO
youtube
Dan: 31/50
Theme: 5 - No real theme tbh, I guess the editing incorporated some nice colors and stuff. I wish y'all could have been more in sync with a theme tho. Maybe I'm just being critical.
Creativity: 5 - The editing was creative, I liked the effects and the added little bits that went along with the lyrics. I think the difference between this video and the others tho was that the others tried something new and exciting to spice up their videos. Was it more creative? Maybe? There's nothing wrong with picking a bop and lip syncing, but it's 2019 ladies, spice it up.
Effort: 7 - She may have bought that hair, but y’all yanked it right off. I think some of you really tried harder than others, but I stan when people just do their best and record where and when they can. It shows dedication and I like that shit. I think that the effort into learning the lyrics without reading them off the screen and dedication to filming in the car kind of showed y'all want this.
Composition: 7 - BITCHHHHH I’M GAGGGGGT. It’s 240p, but honestly Ariana Grande who? Whoever edited this made it seemless, but honestly the low quality needs to get clocked a few points.
Entertainment Value: 7 - The dancing, the outfits, the lip sync skills? A bitch was entertained. While the other videos tried to make things new and exciting, y'all delivered what I think of as more of a successful project.
Jess: 34/50
Theme 8/10. If I had to say the theme, I'd guess that it's "bad bitches" which you all are.
Creativity 5/10. If a 0 is 1 person playing basketball instead of lip syncing at all, and a 10 is a full out choreographed dance number done by your entire tribe, I think this falls solidly in the middle. I don't think there is a lot about this that sets it apart from past music videos I've seen, but I don't think it is bad.
Effort 8/10. It seems like most of your tribe members were at least majorly involved and tried to make this good! And you all put effort into the dancing/attitude you had, it felt like everyone tried to match their actions to the song.
Composition 6/10. I think the editing is good and it matches the timing of the music which is nice, the cuts are usually on the beats! But it did get a little repetitive after a while, like I felt as though the same thing was happening throughout the whole video and there wasn't a variety in the images/cutting style/etc. I also think it was hard to tell if the video was in sync because for some reason y'all are in 2007 and only uploaded this at 240p???? Are you guys all over the age of 45 why did you do that. Finally, the flickering glitter filter was cool at the start, but I wish you'd spiced it up and not just used that throughout the entire video, also at points it was a little distracting due to the bright colours that would pop up.
Entertainment Value 7/10. Six of these points are for the girl who was in the car because she was killing it and I loved her. I took points off for a similar reason I had above -- it felt like the video was one note and I wish you guys had a little more variety throughout.
Dennis: 38/50
Theme: 6/10 Creativity: 8/10 Effort: 8/10 Composition: 8/10 Entertainment: 8/10
I know I will get alot of hate comments for this, but this in general is not really a song to lipsync too. EITHER WAY I think you did a good pretty good job with it. All of you seemed to enjoy yourself and the editing was enough to keep my attention throughout the whole video. I didn't really get the theme, but overall it was a very entertaining Lipsync!
Connor: 35/50
Ok this is good. You clearly all worked together artistically so that your individual shots were coherent. Im not crazy about the pink strobe kinda thing going on through the entire video but you were all performing and this is well done. Theme: 7 Creativity: 6 Effort: 8 Composition: 7 Entertainment Value: 7
Charlotte: 42/50
Theme:  IF THE THEME WAS FABULOUSNESS YOU ACHIEVED IT. ARIANA WOULD BE PROUD.  8/10
Creativity:  I feel like you could have done a little bit more with some of the lyrics but all in all I loved this video and now I'm just being picky. 7/10
Effort:  See above. I think you could have done a little but more but keeping the pink aesthetic through your editing and ALL THAT DANCING werk werk werk.   8/10
Composition:  Love. That. Aesthetic. 10/10  PLUS YOU'RE ALL IN THE SAME CAMERA ORIENTATION I LOVE THAT. LOVE THAT FOR YOU.
Entertainment Value:  FUN, ENJOYABLE, FLAWLESS, NEVER BEEN DONE BEFORE. 9/10
Nehe: 44/50
7 8 9 10 10
Now this is a fucking music video work bitches work
TOTAL: 224
ARAKAKA
youtube
Dan: 29/50
Theme: 7 - Annoying advertisements? Trying to show the effects of product placement on our every day life? I loved it haha I was shook.
Creativity: 6 - V creative, but was it really a music video? I guess parts were but I also was like so lost after a while. I think song choice is always important and I was so bored during the song parts. I wish you had made the song part as creative as the ad parts.
Effort: 4 - Honestly the effort was misfocused on the ads and less on the music video, was I mad about it? only like 50%. the song was boring and just kinda blah so it was interesting
Composition: 5 - Choppy, but I can’t edit so rip
Entertainment Value: 7 - Honestly this how to video taught me so much and I’m shook. THE POPCORN I LITERALLY SCREAMED. While I nodded off during the music video portion, I stanned the ads
Jess: 32/50
Theme 6/10. I think your theme was ads? I didn't really understand it but it was fun and unique.
Creativity 8/10. I have never seen anything like this that's for sure.
Effort 4/10. It seemed like everyone in your tribe was in the video I think? But most of the stuff you guys submitted was 1 take/shot and wouldn't have required a lot of editing, which is the most time consuming/effort requiring portion of the challenge so...
Composition 5/10 The editing of the commercials was pretty good, but it didn't flow as well as it should have because the audio levels were a bit all over the place. Also at one point it was in colour and out of focus but I wasn't sure why? Also a+ for doing your video in 1080p (@ other tribes take note). Since the actual music video portion was just one shot, I feel like I can't really give you a higher rating than the other tribes in this category.
Entertainment Value 9/10 First frame: a guy in a Stitch onesie with a bottle of tequila and a mug that says "ray of fucking sunshine"?? I laughed immediately. Then I was shook when later I realized it was actually a shot glass and was close to the camera and it got even better. This whole video was wild and I had no idea what was going to happen so I was pretty entertained.
Dennis: 45/50
Theme: 8/10 Creativity: 10/10 Effort: 8/10 Composition: 9/10 Entertainment: 10/10
This is probably the last kind of video which I expected in a challenge like this. I think it was really creative and connected entertainment with comedy and a nice little theme. I am very impressed good job!
Connor: 20/50
“””””Acting””””””” “””””””Edgy”””””””” Eggs?? Im vegan. What was the point of this? Was there a point? Pop corn girl gets you an extra point but this is not a music video. To quote bandersnatch, you chose the wrong path.
Theme: 3 Creativity: 6 Effort: 4 Composition: 4 Entertainment Value: 3
Charlotte: 34/50
Theme:  I've been out of the ORG world for awhile but is this what music videos are now??? I feel like the music video of your video was sorely lacking. YouTube loves ads but not that many!!!!! I did think the ads were pretty creative though so I marked up points for that below. 6/10
Creativity: See above. 9/10
Effort:  It wasn't just straight up lip syncing so I gotta reward you guys for that. 8/10
Composition: That black and white switching to color towards the end got me fucked up. 6/10
Entertainment Value:  To quote the person sitting beside me: "OMG another ad?"Cute concept, not sure it works as a music video but you tried.  5/10
Nehe: 35/50
6
6
6
7
10
Honestly this was something i never seen before and i enjoyed it hahaha
TOTAL: 195
TAKAMA
youtube
Dan: 26/50
Theme: 6 - Cats? Bikes? Awkward White People Dancing? Are these the themes you went for? If so, y’all killed it haha, but it wasn't cohesive and I don't get what y'all were going for really.
Creativity: 5 - honestly, I stan an original song choice bc I haven’t seen this before, but also, a song like this needs to be sold and I don't know if y'all pulled out all the stops. I would have liked to see more passion from some of you in the props and theatrics department.
Effort: 5 - Some of you seemed to try a little harder than others, but overall y’all were feelin it
Composition: 5 - A little choppy, but I can’t edit for shit so like good job?
Entertainment Value: 5 - Okay Miss Tim with that bike balance, idk your name sis (maybe Jones) but striped sweater, pm me on skype – dan.disbrow so I can buy it ty. Other than that I don't really remember much besides a lot of cringey dancing.
Jess: 29/50
Theme 1/10. Tbh I don't really know what the theme was here, did you guys forget this category??
Creativity 4/10. Pretty much the same reason that I gave Hororo's tribe a 5, I'm giving you a 4. I am taking one point off because they at least did some stuff to make their video more unique/specific to their song whereas I think you guys could have used this editing style/dancing/etc to any song and it would have also worked, so it wasn't super unique.
Effort 9/10. Everyone who was in the video seemed really into it and did a good job having fun! But this is a 6 person tribe... one person wasn't in it and they weren't the editor?? You should vote them out if you lose.
Composition 9/10. The editing flowed well, you showed everyone on the tribe a pretty decent amount, and everyone's individual videos were pretty on point for lip sync? Usually when people film on their webcams it's not in sync, but these were all really good! You lose one point because the video quality was low and wasn't 1080p which it really should be.
Entertainment Value 6/10. I liked everyone's attitude and dancing and I loved the cats. I originally had 5 but then I remembered the cats and went back and added another point. But I wish you guys had done something unique for each mini song, like maybe divided them up amongst your tribe, or had people change outfits or something? If you had done that, I'd have given you way more points for theme and entertainment value. But because it was kind of repetitive/one note, it's hard to say I was REALLY entertained the whole time.
Dennis: 37/50
Theme: 9/10 Creativity: 7/10 Effort: 8/10 Composition: 7/10 Entertainment: 6/10
Comment: What stood out for me in your video was the theme. I assume that you wanted to mimic the fans v faves theme with a riff off and I thought that was actually quite smart. Everything else seemed to be for me what I would expect from a lipsync, but besides the theme nothing that stood out to me especially.
Connor: 27/50
The lip sinking is a little off at times (im coming back to this part, in the middle / two ish minute point-on it is not good) and I think the transitions from song to songs could have been smoother, but I think this is creative in terms of it being a mashup. I think there could have been more “music video” aspects to it. In addition to y’all singing. EXTRA POINT FOR THE CATS ( stripped sweater??? who is this??? Queen????)
Theme: 5 Creativity: 6 Effort: 6 Composition: 4 Entertainment Value: 6
Charlotte: 28/50
Theme: Was your theme Pitch Perfect? Like, I'm not sure whether or not there was anything you guys planned out but it really just seemed kind of randomly thrown together.  5/10
Creativity: I liked the cats? 6/10
Effort: See above. I feel like y'all just kind of threw this together? It was missing something for me. The person in the stripes pulled it together for you though so 7/10
Composition: Y'all really out here in 2019 not filming in the same orientation? I'm deducting 50% for that. It's a travesty. Also, if one person does a filter and no one else does, does it really make sense? IDK.  3/10
Entertainment Value: ... again, I liked the cats. Plus the stuff with the bicycle was weirdly entertaining.  7/10
Nehe: 31/50
TOTAL: 178
Thank you judges!
That means, Takama, I will be seeing you that tribal council on January 28 at 10 pm est.
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allywrites360 · 4 years
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Fanfiction Commentary
I’ve seen some people do this is the past, and I thought I’d give it a shot!! So here’s some context/backstory/analyses of my writing! I’ll only be including pieces written over quarantine; starting on march 29th. A lot of these talk about more ideas to expand one shots, so you can always send me an ask if you wanna hear more!!
Calm in the Storm - Inspired by this beautiful piece of fan art by one of my friends. I wrote it as a surprise while we were talking.
Reunited - This was a piece that was originally intended to be the ending of an entire work made up of letter between Cass and Varian. I’d been wanting to write it since the show’s finale, but since I’ve never done a story outside of the more traditional style, I just stuck with this one shot.
City Sounds - Written just after a thunder storm near where I live; and mostly inspired by that.
In this passage, “His vision finally coming into focus, Race was facing the freshly burnt out candle from the night before, topped by a trail of smoke curling up into the early morning air of the lodgehouse until it disappeared. Laying there in the sky’s soft light, Race couldn't help but smile, despite the lack of sleep from the night before. It wasn't often the newsies talked about nights like those, but he knew they meant as much to him as they did his brothers,” the candle is meant to be a metaphor for these brothers creating light for one another, hope, when there seems to be none.
Weightless - Written when I was in the car outside the grocery store. Proof that writing can take place anywhere, if you’re dedicated to making time for it.
Painted Skies - I let this piece be led entirely by emotion rather than a set outcome. I always compared Sokka and Suki’s relationship to the sun; passionate and filled with light, and this was my representation of that.
There was a cut piece of dialogue from this, which I really loved: “Kyoshi Island is my home,” Suki said softly, “And the South Pole is yours. It isn’t fair for either of us to give that up.” -- Sokka smiled softly in response, “But you’re my home too.”
The Game Begins - One of my friends requested I write Zuko, and another mentioned laser tag, and thus, this fic was born. I typed out most of the outline for this fic on a walk to my friend’s house (and yes, I was late, haha). The end is also inspired by conversations my friends and I have had at arcades in the past; 
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Hold Me Too Tight - Not really ‘behind the scenes’ per se, but the title is taken from ‘As Long As You’re Mine’ from Wicked. One of the most endearing things in a relationship for me is when one person knows there’s nothing they can say to make the other person feel better, but they support them anyway. And that’s especially reminded me of Sukka; just look at The Boiling Rock.
Fountains - I’d never written for Jin before, nor do I really ship her with Zuko (they were cute, but honestly, single dad Zuko for the win), but my friend really wanted some content of them, so I obliged. Which meant rewatching Tales of Ba Sing Se, and making a list of Jin’s character traits. It was actually kinda fun.
A Million Miles Away - This is definitely part of a longer fic. I have a whole notebook filled, just with rough outlines and details. I was watching another cheesy royalty movie, and while I love royalty stories, I always hated the conventional ending. Royal doesn't want to be a royal, has an arc, then takes the throne. And I wanted a different ending. What if they’re not right for the throne? What if they just can’t take the pressure? What if they run and never look back? And thus, this fic was born. Super passionate about this one.
Summer Nights - This is the longest fic I’ve written so far!! And wow, was it fun. This started out as an idea for a screenplay, but after a day at the lake with my friends, I couldn’t resist writing it out in full, specifically the opening scene with Suki by the ocean. There were a few things I liked/challenged myself with in this fic; the first being ample foreshadowing for Suki’s big reveal at the end, hopefully without making it too obvious. The other was using less page breaks and adding transitions!! I had a lot of fun with the fluff here.
Quiet Nights - Character studying as a fic. And a bit of angst. After so long spent together, I always imagined it’d be hard for the gaang to be alone again. I really loved delving into Sokka’s emotions here. Also, the writing advice to only put in to the frame of your story what tells us something about a character was actually used here!!
“He looked around the room that he had spent so long away from, every detail of it committed to memory. There was the dresser, crafted from long worn wood, that he had carved Water Tribe symbols into years ago that he could trace easily in his mind. The facepaints his dad had made him lay on top of it, and he could tell without walking over there which container held which colour. There was the place he always threw his coat into the corner, never really bothering to hang it up. So why did it feel so strange… unfamiliar now?” The carving shows Sokka’s creative side (as well as more Indigenous crafts), the face paint is symbolic of Sokka trying to live up to the other warriors, and the thrown aside coat shows his more carefree side.
Secret Moments - Another Jin and Zuko fic. My friend asked for a sequel to Fountains, and she had a bad day, so I typed this out really quickly.
Walking in the Rain - I was listening to ‘Walking in the Rain’ from Beautiful: the Carole King Musical, and I got really inspired to write this. I’ve always loved rain; it’s my favourite weather, and I thought it’d be nice to see more positive descriptions of it in fanfics.
Grounded - Rather than the long, flowery prose I usually prefer, I intentionally used short, choppy sentences to convey the spiralling emotion they were feeling. I also used repetition to hammer home the tension, as that’s something that happens when you’re panicking. The emotions here were amazing to write, though. And I was really proud of the ending.
Falling Snow - I’ve been planning this fic since Christmas, yet I finally decided to write it in August. One thing that I purposely did in this fic was juxtapose Suki’s description of the cafe. at first, it’s too hot, and crowded, but after she settles in a bit, and meets everyone’s favourite sword bender, it’s more cozy.
Unfamiliar - This was my first time doing a character study of Suki, and let me tell you, I love her so much more now. I loved exploring her emotions outside of her relationship as well. And I always imagined her as the type to not ‘waste her time’ on someone who wasn’t her soulmate, hence the sentiment ending the first half of the story.
As for the latter half, entering around Sokka, I had always had the head canon that he kept the Kyoshi Warrior face paint on until sundown, holding on to the last fragment of that place as long as he could. Just added a little soulmate flair to it. And also, the parallel of him and Suki both knowing the pressure of being a leader is always amazing.
I’ll See You Around - I’ve always said Hugo is (one of) my favourite characters of all time, but I only now got around to writing him. And let me tell you, it was a blast. Normally it takes me a while to jump into a character’s body language, but for Hugo, it just flowed naturally. Maybe it’s because I’ve spent so much time reading him.
I’d also listened to ‘My Petersburg’ from Anastasia, which is such a Hugo song, by the way, and I think I was subconsciously inspired by the lyric, “Funny when a city is all you know, how even when you hate it, something in you loves it so.”
Home is Where the Heart Is - I wanted to try a different proposal for Sukka Week 2020, and I always imagined them to get married (or at least engaged) soon after the show, so I typed this up. Their relationship is what true love looks like, and I think they both know that the other is it for them. Why wait? Plus, getting married is one of the only ways for them to be together (paraphrased from an interview with Kara Lindsay).
Partners - I was watching Brooklyn Nine Nine, and made a comment about Sukka being pretty similar to Amy and Jake, and decided to type up a rendition of the ending scene from The Bet, but with these two. The ending doesn’t make total sense logically, but it was exciting/interesting to me, so I decided to just go with it.
Closed Distance - Rather than a serious piece for the prompt, ‘Letters’, I opted for the more comedic route. With an angsty characters study of Suki at the beginning, because I’ve fallen in love with her character all over again.
Always Come Back - (Sorry guys, no link yet. It’ll be up September 3rd for Water Sibling Week!!). After a post talking about the symbolism of Sokka’s weapon being a boomerang; something that always came back, when he was left behind more than once, I decided to set this whole fic around that metaphor, including these passages; 
“The weapon came back, but this time Sokka didn’t catch it. It slammed against the tips of his fingers before slipping through, landing beside him on the small cliff. He drew his wrist back, hissing slightly as he shook it out, impact echoing through his arm.”
“He put his arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer to his side. Katara moved her head to rest against his shoulder. Without saying a word, she picked up his boomerang, setting it back into his hand.”
Symbolic of Sokka allowing someone else to take on the role of ‘protector’, if only for a moment. And someone helping by ‘coming back’, when maybe he couldn't make it all the way himself. (Would’ve loved the ending to involve Suki, but I was writing for the water sibling event week, so this ending’ll do).
0 notes
bearingwater · 7 years
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April Forecast for Aquarius
Get out and circulate! The Sun is in Aries and your third house of communication until April 19, sparking up your social life. Local action could heat up, so head out and explore the happenings in your ‘hood. You might need to make a conscious effort NOT to overbook, since your calendar will fill quickly and you could exhaust yourself with too much running around. Still, this is a vibrant time to network and mingle, as you’ll easily draw kindred spirits into your orbit.
Fun as flitting about may be, April has its…complications. Five (yes, five) planets will be retrograde (www.astrostyle.com/learn-astrology/retrogrades) this April, a challenging cycle that IS ideal for inspecting and revamping. As the month begins, Venus and Jupiter are already retrograde, to be joined by Saturn, Mercury and Pluto. Retrogrades occur when the Earth and another planet pass each other in their journeys around the Sun, creating the illusion that one of them is moving backward. Since retrogrades govern the past, unfinished business often comes up to be handled, and people we haven’t seen in awhile (if not years) can resurface.
Harmonizer Venus has been retrograde since March 4 in Aries, which may have created a few social speed bumps or lover’s quarrels. It might be a relief that Venus is leaving Aries on April 2, backing into Pisces for the duration of its retrograde, which ends on April 15. Since Pisces rules your second house of work, money and security, there could be conflict with colleagues and clients, or ripples of discord at the office. Your self-confidence might take a small nosedive, so do things to affirm your worth, like treating yourself exquisitely.
We’re not saying a spa pedicure and hot-stone massage are the long-term antidote to insecurities, but pampering yourself can help lift you out of a self-flagellating slump. Just make sure any retail therapy you indulge in has a generous return policy, as aesthetic Venus’ backspin can lead to some major style missteps. Hold off on big-ticket furniture items or pricey wardrobe pieces. Instead, how about doing a closet edit and donating home decor items that no longer suit your tastes? When Venus turns direct on April 15, you can shop to your heart’s content.
Some grander plans might have sputtered a bit, thanks to expansive Jupiter’s retrograde in Libra and your visionary ninth house from February 6 to June 9. The ninth house rules publishing, travel, study and entrepreneurship—big themes for Aquarians ever since Jupiter entered Libra on September 9, 2016. But have things gotten too big too soon? Use this cycle to pause and catch up, making sure you’re not biting off more than you can realistically chew. You might enroll in a short summer extension course to build your skills (like the finer points of social media or Javascript, perhaps) or take a trip back to an old favorite place for inspiration. When Jupiter zooms ahead in June, you’ll have the spotted planet in this lucky zone until October 10, the perfect time for a really ambitious launch.
The one exception to this arrives on April 11, at the year’s only Libra full moon. This could bring an exciting opportunity to put your boldest message in the spotlight. Have you been holding back the truth? The moon will form a tense square to potent Pluto in your twelfth house of hidden information. An unexpected and intense conversation could erupt, and while the atmosphere may get heated, at least you’ll clear the air. Just don’t whip out a laundry list of everything this person did wrong in the past six months. Take some responsibility: If you didn’t tell them you were upset, how could they have known?
As if that weren’t enough to navigate, April brings three new retrograde cycles, starting with structured Saturn. From April 5 to August 25, the tough taskmaster will backspin through Sagittarius, impacting your eleventh house of teamwork and technology. Plans could get mired in red tape and bureaucracy. A collaboration could slow down, or team members might not see eye to eye. Is there a weak link in the chain? With stern Saturn here, you may need to do the hard work of asking someone to leave or of distancing yourself from a draining friend. If too much has fallen on your shoulders, you might step down from leadership and let others pull their weight. Planning an online launch or digital debut? Saturn’s U-turn pushes you to ensure your product is airtight before springing it on the public. Test everything behind the scenes. When your YouTube channel goes viral, you’ll be glad you took the extra time to craft the plan or hire that pro editor.
Speaking of all things digital, from April 9 to May 3, communicator Mercury goes retrograde (www.astrostyle.com/mercury-retrograde), disrupting technology, communication and travel for almost a month. This cycle happens three or four times a year, and it’s notorious for confounding interpersonal matters. Practice radical patience and back up your data and devices stat, before Mercury swoops down and erases your Great American Novel. If possible, delay signing contracts, or at least scrutinize the fine print before you do.
Mercury will be retrograde in Taurus and your domestic fourth house until April 20, which could stir up discord at Chateau Water Bearer. Hold off on any big plans to renovate or oust a roommate (unless you have due cause). Put together a Pinterest mood board of inspired interior design and try to hash things out with the people under your roof. And by all means, declutter your nest, especially if you’ve accumulated too much over the winter. Retrogrades are favorable times for reunions. Reconnect with relatives or important women, since the fourth house rules the ladies in your life. From April 20 to May 3, Mercury backs into Aries and your communication zone, a time to really watch what you say, email and post. All things verbal or written can (and likely will) be misconstrued.
With all this drama is going on in the stars, why not do a deep dive into your own psyche and emotions? If you can’t beat the cosmos, you might as well join ’em! As within, so without—and maybe if you get right inside yourself, your outer world will stabilize accordingly. Transformational Pluto, ruler of the unconscious, goes retrograde in your twelfth house of healing, closure and hidden information from April 20 to September 28. This could be a powerful time to reconnect with your intuition or do some forgiveness work. (Here are a few spiritual tips http://bodhispiritualcenter.org/5-techniques-to-work-on-forgiveness/). You might need to grieve a loss or deal with a mind-body health issue. Explore the link between emotions and wellbeing, since “mysterious” chronic symptoms often signal a deeper issue you haven’t wanted to confront. Pluto retrograde will snap you out of denial, but ultimately, that’s a good thing.
With shadowy Pluto backing through this mystical zone, you might be grieving a loss or having psychic dreams. You could receive healing messages from a departed loved one while you sleep or get undeniable “signs” that guides from the other side are assisting you. Meditation, listening to music, dance—these are just a few ways you can get out of your head and tune in to powerful leads from the universe.
Whew! So much going on, Aquarius. Feel free to hunker down at home and escape from April 19 on, when the Sun makes its annual sojourn through Taurus and your domestic fourth house. The April 26 Taurus new moon could bring exciting news for your personal life: a move, a pregnancy or an opportunity for some nurturing self-care. New moons unfold over a span of six months, so set intentions for your personal life. Where and how would you like to live? Start researching new cities or neighborhoods for a perfect fit. Is there a family relationship that needs healing? Extend the first twig of that olive branch. Someone has to make the first move, and it might as well be you.
Love & Romance
Romance on the rocks? The first couple weeks of this month could be choppy while love planet Venus is retrograde from March 4 to April 15. Venus makes this tricky backspin every 18 months for about six weeks, and it's a good time to reevaluate relationship dynamics and try to iron out any differences. In some cases, couples may go their separate ways; in others, since retrogrades can bring back the past, old lovers might reappear on the scene.
From April 2 to 28, Venus is in Pisces and your second house of security. There could be discord over money: Is one of you footing an unfair share of the dinner tabs or bills? Since the second house also rules self-esteem, you might discover a need to shore yours up before hitting the dating scene again. Take a time-out from Tinder if it’s been chipping away at your self-worth or making you jaded about love. This Aquarius woman’s story of why she took a break from dating apps (http://www.rannysays.com/blog/2016/1/19/why-im-taking-a-break-from-tinder) could give you food for thought. If you’re getting over a breakup, get a shot of meme-fueled confidence from the Brokenhearted Babe Instagram account (https://www.instagram.com/brokenheartedbabe/), also curated by an Aquarius.
But don’t plan on wallowing for too long! From April 21 to June 4, lusty Mars marches into Gemini and your fiery fifth house, pumping up the passion. Spring fever cometh! You’ll be turning heads and attracting admirers without even trying. Mars only visits this part of your chart every couple years, so take advantage. Reach for bolder statement pieces and brighter colors when you go out. With the red planet here, there’s no such thing as “too much.” For couples, your mojo gets a spicy spring awakening. Single Aquarians might decide to lift your temporary Tinder ban. But honestly, your infectious joie de vivre is likely to magnetize some passionate prospects in real-time. Why swipe when you can meet on the dance floor or exchange a laugh while you wait for your brunch tables?
Opportunity Days
April 6: Mars-Pluto Trine Whoa! Who knew you felt that strongly about something? Probably not even you. Today, something could trigger you, bringing up powerful emotions that can actually be healing when they see the light of day. For couples, this karmic day might spark a gesture that brings you closer, like meeting each other’s relatives or exchanging keys, or possibly news of a pregnancy. This is a powerful moment for healing, forgiveness and breaking an old family behavior pattern. Single? You may have a soulmate encounter or romantic deja vu. Have you known each other in another lifetime?
April 26: Taurus New Moon A new emotional chapter opens as the new moon awakens a nurturing and sensitive part of you. Family and home are also in the lunar spotlight. A move, pregnancy or lifestyle change could unfold in the coming six months.
Challenge Days
April 20-September 28: Pluto Retrograde Get ready to go into those shadowy places and explore your hidden blind spots. Plumb-the-depths Pluto plunges into reverse motion, putting you intensely in touch with powerful, possibly painful feelings. Consider taking a healing retreat to work through core wounds. If you’ve skipped over the healing process, you may need to go back and deal with it now. You might be especially driven to explore the hidden meanings and mysteries of everything due to Pluto's presence in this spiritual zone. This is also a good time for intensive therapy, especially if you're healing from a childhood trauma. Art, music, dance and any right-brain activity can be especially transporting.
Money & Career
Spread the word, Aquarius! With the Sun in Aries and your communication house until April 19, this is an excellent time for networking, pitching and putting a creative message out there. Don’t hide your smarts, either, as this intellectual cycle is perfect for putting your quirky “geek chic” on full display. We love everything about your fellow Aquarius (and proud bookworm) Emma Roberts’ new website, Belletrist (https://belletrist.com), an online book club that features interviews with authors she loves. Gather kindred spirits through social media and IRL meetups, and see what you can stir up together.
Working from home could be productive this month, as motivated Mars steams through Taurus and your domestic fourth house until April 21. Convert that cluttered corner or spare nook into a productive space. Women figure into your ambitious aims. A powerful and well-connected female could open doors or make an auspicious intro. If you’re thinking of starting a cottage industry, devote some energy to that.
Opportunity Days
April 5-August 25: Saturn Retrograde Press pause or take a sober step back from a group- or tech-related project. You could face a few obstacles to building your dream team or implementing technology.
April 7: Sun-Jupiter Opposition Know-it-all alert! People (yourself included) could be blowing a lot of hot air under this ego-driven cosmic aspect. Don’t believe the hype. While it all sounds exciting and promising, very little of what’s being said can actually be backed up with action or solid evidence. Be careful about getting roped into pointless arguments, both in person and on social media.
April 9: Sun-Pluto Square Read between the lines. Someone may be saying one thing, but their body language and non-verbal cues are telling a very different story. Not every friendly person is a friend. Some are wolves in sheep’s clothing. Don’t be their sacrificial lamb today—keep your wits about you and be careful what you divulge.
April 11: Libra Full Moon It’s a great day to launch a creative idea or to take a bold risk. Express your “out-there” ideas: You might discover that others are eager to get on-board. Travel, publishing, study and public speaking are all on the agenda at this full moon. Just be careful who you bring into this endeavor, as a square from calculating Pluto indicates that a shady person may be hovering on the periphery.
April 14: Sun-Uranus Meetup No filters? The courageous Sun and radical Uranus make it impossible to bite your tongue. But choose your audience wisely. Not everyone is able to digest it all in one bite. While you shouldn’t sugarcoat the truth, you don’t want to turn people off by coming across as volatile or unhinged.
April 17: Sun-Saturn Trine Choose your words carefully, and you could win the attention and support of some well-connected people. If you’re trying to get an initiative or project approved, band together. There’s power in numbers, so show the decision makers that your ideas have clout. Even better? Don’t wait for them to give you “permission.” Form a coalition and make change together.
Challenge Days
April 9-May 3: Mercury Retrograde Uh-oh! Mercury, the ruler of technology, travel and interpersonal affairs, begins its dicey three-week backspin, which could foil efforts in all of these areas. Back up your data to the cloud, explain yourself clearly, and triple-check all plans and reservations. If you’ve been waiting for a green light, you may have to sit on your hands a little longer, but be patient! This is not a favorable time to seal any deals anyway.
Love Days: 28, 5 Money Days: 12, 22 Luck Days: 11, 19 Off Days: 30, 8, 17
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sing-imagines-blog · 7 years
Note
i have a buster centered prompt! maybe he gets sick on the day of one of the performances and tries his hardest not to fuckign die on stage
Buster woke up that morning feeling not so great, and it all started with a simple sneeze.
At first he didn’t think much of it. Animals sneeze all the time, so what? He ignored it and continued on with his morning routine. He couldn’t let a small sniffle get in the way of his big day! There was a lot to be done.
He popped out of his desk, feeling refreshed. Well, sort of. No matter, he would continue with a smile on his face, and a mind on getting work done.
Now, ever since the concert and Nana Noodleman helped salvage his theater, he had been more successful. More success, of course, meant, more money. Enough that Buster was at least able to find another place to live than his desk.
But, he chose not to. He couldn’t help it! He was too attached to just abandon his previous way of living. Besides, he often spent the night with Eddie over at his pool house, and it wasn’t all that bad.
“Okay, everyone, today we have the same as usual. Rehearse… Gunter is there for anyone actually willing to actually try and learn the choreography he has planned for this next show. I’m looking at you Mike.” He paced across the stage, reading off of a clipboard and not quite looking up but pointing at the mouse.
‘Don’t sniffle. Don’t do it.’ He mentally challenged himself.
Mike only rolled his eyes, texting lazily as the Koala continued.
“I have a few… duets… in mind.” He had to pause in between words, the tickling feeling of a sneeze coming on.
Rosita was the only one to notice, so far. “Are you okay, Buster?” She asked, eyebrow raised. Now, being a mother to 25 kids gave her special senses, especially those of which could sense someone catching a cold.
“Totally… fine.” He sighed in relief as the sensation finally went away, “Anyway! Duets.” He continued to ramble on, and everyone else, save for Rosita, groaned silently with boredom. They only hoped they wouldn’t get paired up with Mike, who was the bridezilla of duets
Buster wasn’t getting healthier, but he certainly wasn’t going to entertain that thought. Not in the slightest. Sure, the amount of sneezing has increased drastically within’ the last hour, as has the irritation in his throat, but he was also good at hiding them… especially if he just spent the majority of his time in his office.
It worked well, plus, he held on to the firm belief that if he just simply ignored it, it would go away. This was easier said than done.
He sat at his desk, sneaking a couple of advil and staying hydrated, something he remember his dad usually did when he was sick, and it always seemed to work! Well… it was either for that or something else… no matter!
“Come on, you can get through this. Of course you can! You’re Buster Moon, as healthy as a horse! You will prevai-”
He was cut off when Johnny quickly opened the door, “I think you should come down here, Ash and Mike are arguing again.”
“Oh, man, I put them together so they could try and work together for once.” Buster grumbled, rubbing his face. Jeez, this cold was even making him a bit more grumpy.
“Right, okay, I’ll be down.” He got up, wiping his nose quickly before following Johnny down to one of the rehearsal rooms.
Sure enough, there was Mike and Ash, arguing about the duet, and they were both hell-bent on getting their way.
“I am, in no way, going to sing that.”
“Oh yeah? Well, I’m not going to sing that punk rock crap, not for a million dollars!” Mike shot back, knowing very well that he would probably do anything for a million dollars… still!
Buster bust in (sorry) the room, “Hey, hey, hey! What’s the problem now?” He asked, gesturing at the two with his hands.
They immediately started pointing at each other and complaining about what was wrong. Of course, and what he could gather from it, was they both weren’t going to sing with each other if it meant having to sing a song out of their style.
Buster pinched his nose, the cold forgotten, “Did either of you even look at the list? I put songs I think would suit both of your styles, and would also force you to work together.”
Ash shrugged with an annoyed look on her face, while Mike was still having none of it, and marched right up to Buster, who was ignoring the small tickle of a sneezing feeling.
“I don’t care if it’s supposed to be a fit for both of us! She doesn’t want to try anyway, and frankly neither do I with her choppy attitude. Jeez, you shoulda’ put with Meena, now that’s a voice I’d be proud to sing with, not miss. I’m a Moody Teen over here.” He ranted, gesturing over to Ash,
“The feelings mutual, jerkoff.” She called over, monotone.
“Ya’ see!? That’s exactly what I’m talking about! What is that? What even is a jerkoff?! I don’t know! Who does!? It’s a whole different language with this one!” He added, hand on his hips.
Meanwhile, Buster was trying not to tune out the complaining Mouse when he kept feeling the sneeze settling upon him. ‘Oh, not now, not now.’ He mentally scolded himself, eye twitching as the sensation grew.
“And, another thing! … Hello?! Are you even listening, Moon? What, have you become deaf? I have terms to get off my min-” he angrily continued until:
“ACHOO!”
In that moment, everyone, even if they were minding their own business, turned around the face Buster when they heard the loudest sneeze ever.
There was a long silence, save for the small aftermath of Buster’s sniffling and wiping his nose.
“Woah, Buster, that sounded pretty nasty. You okay?” Johnny asked, peeking into the room.
“Yeah, I’m fine, I-”
“I knew it! You have a cold! I knew it!” Rosita was next to come into the room with triumph. “Buster, sweetie, there’s only two things you’re going to do now, and that is take some medicine and rest.” She crossed her arms all matter of factly.
“But!-”
“No butts! You can’t do your best if you’re sick, and you know it.”
Buster sighed, sniffling again, “…Yeah, I suppose that’s true.”
Ash started bursting out laughing, not at Buster of course, but something (or rather, someone else)
Everyone raised an eyebrow, confused to no end… at least until they saw who was exactly in front of Buster. The mouse who had beared the blunt force of Buster’s sneeze.
Mike was frozen with disgust, and also covered with snot. Everyone else seemed to lean away from the seething mouse, with the angriest look on his face, while Ash was still doubling over in laughter.
The rest of the day wasn’t fun for anyone... save for Ash. 
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welovestopmotion · 7 years
Video
vimeo
Heatwave by Skycar Creative - Check the behind the scenes video!
A heatwave brings productivity to a halt in a small office, leaving everyone sluggish, sweating, and barely able to work. But one co-worker finds an answer to the swelter.
“Heatwave” is the first episode in a stop-motion series produced by production company Skycar Creative.
Process
We decided to make a completely stop-motion show that involved humans and props. We did consider “cheating” by using a 4K camera and then reducing frame-rate in post. But, after doing some initial tests, it just looked like low framerate choppy video; too smooth and predictable. So, we decided to bite the bullet and shoot on the 5D with all stills and then sequence them in editorial. We weren’t too surprised when our one day shoot turned into one 14 hour day plus a half day the next.
The Concept
This is the first in a series where we’d like to experiment with stop motion techniques and create mini stories of solving universal human problems (being too hot is the first). We’ve since been able to do some stop motion work on a client project and from both of these experiences have developed some nice workflow improvements that we’re excited to use on the next episode. We have the next 2 episodes concepted. The goal is to push the creative and learn something for each new show.
Humans in Slow Motion
We discovered a lot here because you have to break down everyday, automatic movements frame-by-frame. For example: if you reach for something on your desk, what does your head do? If you grab something, how long does your hand pause on it before you lift it and bring it towards you? It’s an interesting micro-view of how we move through space and playing with those variables can create a curious visual feel in the shots. Also? It was very hard and awkward to do.
Effects & Props
It took us a bit of time to move from the concept (cooling off a co-worker who is too hot) to the actual execution. We knew we wanted a feeling of magic transformation, but didn’t want it to be too sci-fi. In fact, we decided to shoot everything practically, in-camera - no digital effects. We started with just an ice-cube bursting into snow but then thought it would be more fun to have some mechanism that helps to crush it. We sketched out ideas and brought  in potential props like a vintage fan and a food processor, but once Aaron came up with the meat grinder there was no arguing, as it was visually fun and would do a great job with ice. o
To get the ice cube to appear, we originally planned to use melting ice and then reverse it but that proved too unpredictable (and too much time pressure). So, we modeled 13 levels of a 3D ice cube and printed them on a stereolithography 3d printer. Add a little glycerine in each shot and you’ve got yourself a growing, wet ice cube.
The rig for the snow required four strong hands balancing a 12 foot cardboard tube, a sifting basket, a hairdryer, and some luck.
VFX
While all elements were shot on camera (even our paper towel snow), we did rely on some compositing to get our final look. Because we shot all props and people in the actual space, we relied on background plates to erase support rigs and people who were helping make the animations happen. The primary technique: roto, roto, roto.
Lighting
Knowing that our shoot would extend into the wee hours, our DP Jason Joseffer  blacked out all windows and then built a strong source from left side of frame to give us a consistent “sun” raking through the window. So, that close-up shot of Jane wiping her glasses? That was shot, much to her dismay, around 1am.
Sound Design
Jeremiah Moore and team member Jasper Sharp put in quite a bit of work creating the foley for the soundscape. One of the challenges was to create an atmosphere that accurately reflected the subtleties of the character’s movements as well as their surroundings. Much of the foley was made using household items and with our voices. For example, to make the ice formation we used the popping of a ventilation pipe and combined those recordings with Jeremiah’s effects processing. What was also cool about this process was creating the ambient noises within the office, the most important of which was the radio that allowed us to provide a narrative setting for the film and incorporate music.
Music
We went for a surf style riff that our friend from New York sent over and then Jasper pulled together a drum track to work with it. It was great to produce an original soundtrack for this piece because we could time everything as needed and have complete control of the song structure. After the track was finished we added distortion and noise to get it sounding like it was coming from a radio.
CREDITS
Studio: Skycar Creative
Directors/Talent: Aaron Barry & Jane Selle Morgan
Producer/VFX: Manuel Reta
Director of Photography: Jason Joseffer
Art Director: Maxwell Smith
Production Coordinator/Grip: Kyle Hanson McKee
Production Assistant/Fanimator: Jasper Sharp
Music: Steven Garabedian & Jasper Sharp
Sound Design: Jeremiah Moore & Jasper Sharp
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