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satsurikusajira · 3 years

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Here, Kitty, Kitty, Kitty 01

words: 2108

Grimmjow just wants some lovin’ like the cats in the World of the Living. Chin-scratches escalate to something more.

He stood on top of a pole, watching the humans walk by, just as the sun was beginning to set. He had been sneaking out from Hueco Mundo often enough to make it a habit, and recognized some of the people on their way home. Grimmjow had taken a liking to watching them, and would occasionally follow one or the other to see how they lived. He was mostly bored, and itching to go back, but his visits to the World of the Living had an ulterior motive. Usually, he would escape the wrath of Aizen, or in rare occurrences, one of the other espadas, and he couldn’t fight his way out of whatever trouble he had found himself in. So, instead of skating on thin ice, he would cool off in the small town neighbourhood.

The jingling of a bell caught his attention and he turned to see the one human he had actually taken an interest in locking up what he had found out to be a small bookshop where she spent her days working. He frowned at her change in attire. Two weeks ago, she was wearing a short sleeved blouse. Today, an oversized knit sweater slipped off her shoulder and a handkerchief was tied around her neck. Had it gotten colder? Grimmjow barely noticed the temperature changes, but other humans were starting to bundle up as well, so he shrugged it off. He hopped down to the pavement to keep her in his line of sight as she shut off the lights to the shop and vanished up the stairs in the back.

Since his last visit two weeks ago, he had learned she lived alone above her workplace. Well, not alone. This was why he had taken an interest in her. She had a cat. The thing was massive. It was a cross-eyed, lazy, white maine coon with an overbite. At least it wasn’t one of those inbred, flat-nosed persians. His interest wasn’t the cat per se, but the way she interacted with it. Something about the way she ran her fingers through its fur and cooed softly at it as it made itself comfortable on her lap sent a pang through him that confused him to no end.

Grimmjow sat on the neighbour’s roof and watched through the window as the cat stretched languidly across the couch and shook its head to rid itself of any sleep still clinging to it. It sat and stared straight back at Grimmjow. He was used to it, animals could see him perfectly well, but that cat seemed to have a grudge against him. Every time he visited, the animal would glare at him through the window. When the woman finally entered her small apartment above the shop, the cat turned, hopped off the sofa and padded over to the door to greet her, as it always did.

“Hello, my love!” Grimmjow heard the muffled conversation between human and cat through the glass. Every time she talked to it, it would meow back at her, in varying degrees of tone, length and volume. “How was your day?” it purred loudly at her. “Really?”

And so it went on as she slipped off her shoes and made her way to her bathroom. The door was wide open during his first two visits, but the damn cat had noticed him leering at her as she showered, so he took to leaning its heavy body against the door to slam it in his face ever since. Grimmjow scowled at the closed door and listened to the shower run, a very faint aroma of soap reaching his nose. It wasn’t long before she finished up in the bathroom, a knit cardigan and fluffy socks added to her usual short nightgown.

Grimmjow watched as she made a beeline for the old record player sitting in the corner and put on a black disk of smooth music. He rather enjoyed her taste in calm tunes, even went so far to crane his neck once in an attempt to read the square paper the disk was encased in. It read ‘JAZZ’. He had no idea what that was. After she adjusted the volume to her taste, her next stop was the refrigerator. She made a plate for herself out of leftovers, something that looked like a lumpy beige sauce and white rice. Grimmjow could smell chicken after she had reheated it. He never had the need to eat proper food, being an Espada, but the smell enticed him enough to make him lick his lips. He watched enviously as she hand-fed the cat little pieces of chicken, berating him on how he had his own food on his dish. Grimmjow growled as the thrice cursed animal actually turned to sneer at him, while rubbing his side against her calves.

“What are you looking at, Hemingway?” She glanced out the window. “You want some fresh air?” She received a loud meow as an answer. Standing, she made her way to the balcony window and slid it open just enough for him to slip out, purring and chirping as he slid past her ankles. “Just until I’m done eating, okay? It’s getting colder. Don’t wander off into the neighbours.” Another meow and his prompt plopping of his furry butt down on the balcony chair was her answer. “Good boy.” She went back inside, leaving the door ajar.

“Who are you to have taken an interest in my mistress?” came a raspy voice from the feline, much to Grimmjow’s surprise. “Yeah, you, with the hole in his stomach. You’re not a hollow, I can tell that much.”

“No, I’m not.” Grimmjow studied the cat more closely. He was busy licking his paw and running it over his whiskers. “The fuck are you?”

“Do you mean to harm my mistress?” The cat, Hemingway, if he recalled correctly, completely ignored his question. Grimmjow remained quiet. He had no idea what he wanted from the woman. “You’re a cat too, of sorts.” It wasn’t a question, so he received no answer. “I will not share my mistress with a stray. Off with you.”

“Why, you little--” Grimmjow sonidoed to the balcony and grabbed the cat by the scruff of his neck. A loud yowl and a swipe to his arm startled him to the point of dropping the furry asshole. Grimmjow was shocked to see four long gashes on his forearm.

“Hemingway?” The woman’s voice came through the gap in the window, accompanied by the dining chair scraping on the floor and her footsteps approaching. The cat scampered back inside just as she stuck her head out to look at the balcony, her gaze immediately landing on Grimmjow.

It was a split second decision. Grimmjow saw her chest inflate and her mouth widen to what he was sure would have been a scream, but he snapped his hand to her mouth and bodily forced her inside.

“Don’t scream.” He growled at her. Her eyes were wide, and her cardigan had slipped off her left shoulder, but her hands instead went to his chest, where a transparent force pushed him away from her.

“Who are you?” She panted. “How did you get past the wards?”

“The what?” Grimmjow rubbed his chest, but he wasn’t hurt.

“I allowed him in.” The raspy voice called from the sofa. “He’s just a stray, probably after some food.” She glanced at the cat, but turned quickly back to the intruder with a questioning frown on her face.

“A stray?” Her stance was still cautious. Grimmjow was confused. How could she see him, he felt no reiatsu on her.

“He’s stupid, too.” Hemingway snickered. Grimmjow made to grab his sword, but his arms were glued to his side as soon as the woman snapped her fingers.

“Now, you listen here, Mister!” she pointed her finger at him and he felt his arms squeeze further into his sides. “This is my domain, and I will not have anyone threaten me or mine!” He faintly saw a green aura surrounding her body as she spoke, but could not feel any reiatsu whatsoever.

Grimmjow, however, was the sexta espada, and would not be held immobile on any account, so with little effort, he broke through whatever invisible restraints were around him and finally pulled out his sword, pointing it at the woman’s chin. As soon as he did so, the scratches on his arm burned so fiercely, he was forced to grab his arm, though he managed not to drop his sword.

“Your doing, Hemingway?” The woman asked, eyeing the scratches. The cat appeared to nod, and before Grimmjow could ask, he explained:

“Those will keep you from harming my Mistress.” The white cat was relaxed on the couch, his paws crossed and green eyes trained on Grimmjow. “I have already said I will not share my Mistress. Be gone with you, vagrant!”

“I’m not a vagrant!” Grimmjow had no idea what a vagrant was, but he understood he was being insulted.

“Then where is your home?” The woman’s voice softened a bit. “What’s your Mistress’ name?”

“My Mistress?” Grimmjow relaxed when the burning in his arm subsided, but he did not sheathe his sword.

“You are a cat, are you not?” She asked. How could she know? “Whom do you serve?”

“Aizen-sama.” Came the bitter reply.

“Aizen? Never heard of her. Is she new in town? Hemingway, do you know of any new arrivals?”

“Aizen Sosuke is a man.” Grimmjow finally sheathed his sword. “We don’t live here.”

“Oh, you poor thing.” Was the last thing he expected to hear as she took a step closer. “Is that why you look like that? I always hated Warlocks and what they do to their familiars, just look at you.” She clicked her tongue and reached out to touch the bone on his cheek. Grimmjow grabbed her wrist and glared at her.

“What. The fuck. Are you talking about, woman?” He growled out.

“He’s not a familiar.” Hemingway had his eyes trained on Grimmjow’s hand as he held his Mistress’ wrist. “He’s part Hollow.” Grimmjow let her wrist slip free as she gasped and stepped back in shock.

---

“So, let me get this straight. Lora, is it?” Grimmjow was sitting at the table across from the woman, trying to absorb the new information she and Hemingway were dumping on him. “You’re a witch.” She nodded. “This is your familiar, some kind of...animal servant.” he pointed to the cat currently on her lap, who yowled, outraged at his description. “And you’re telling me that there are Warlocks, male witches, who abuse their familiars.” His mind snapped to Aizen.

“Well, most of them do.” Lora nodded. “I’ve met a few who are...civil.” She scrunched up her face. So, definitely not Aizen.

“But you know about Hollows?” He asked.

“And Shinigamis, but I don’t know what an Arrancar is.” She looked at him expectantly. Grimmjow wasn’t too worried about explaining anything to the human. Instead, his eyes snapped to the empty plate she had pushed aside when they sat to talk. He hadn’t touched the tea she served him, but the smell of her dinner still wafted around the apartment. She noticed with a small smile as he licked his lips. “Would you like anything to eat?”

“Don’t feed the stray, he’ll never leave us be!” Hemingway protested.

“I’m not a stray!” Grimmjow barked at the cat. “And I don’t need your food.” He stood to leave, but a small hand on his forearm stopped him.

“Here.” She pushed something into his hand, but otherwise didn’t stop him from storming out into the night.

“You fed him. Now he’ll keep coming back.” Hemingway sighed as he stretched and made his way to her bedroom.

“He looked so lonely…” Lora looked out into the night, but seeing no trace of their guest, she shut the window and shivered, switching the lights off and retiring to her bed, Hemingway curling into a warm ball at her feet.

---

Grimmjow stopped a few blocks over and looked at the package in his hand. It was a white triangle, wrapped in plastic. He pulled the film off and sniffed at the riceball. He smelled fish and spices. Taking a tentative bite out of it, his eyes were blown wide at the taste. He had tried human food before, but it didn’t make him care much for it. This simple riceball was cold, but awakened his tastebuds in a way he hadn’t thought possible. He scarfed the whole thing down and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before opening a Garganta back to Hueco Mundo.

#grimmjow jaggerjack #bleach #grimmjow #fanfic #fanfiction

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elsanna-shenanigans · 3 years

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April Contest Submission #3: Prism of White

Words: ca. 5,200 Setting: Modern AU Lemon: No CW: none

Light filtered through the window casting the room in a golden glow. Papers lay crumpled and torn on the coffee table and the floor beneath. Anna tossed her sketchbook on the table and threw her pencil next to it. Weeks passed and she still didn’t have another good idea for her next art piece. Her hands grasped a pillow on the couch beside her. Her freckled face buried in the soft cushion, a muffled groan joining the white-noise of the television in the background.

Art had been a passion of hers ever since her stubby toddler fingers first grasped that pack of cheap crayons. Her parents laid scrap paper out in front of her at the kitchen table. The adults left the room shortly after thinking little Anna would be occupied for a little more than five minutes. Overjoyed with all the colors in the box, now strewn over the table some rolling to the floor, little Anna picked up the green and began to scribble in swirls and loops like any child does. Her mother came back ten minutes later to check on her and grab a cup of afternoon coffee. A gasp tore from her throat and her blue eyes widened at the site. The walls had been little Anna’s first canvas.

She laughed at the memory, the sound muffled by the pillow still pressed against her face. The scolding she received after that event lost to the feeling of joy at the colors swirling around her. Back then art had been carefree and fun. Now the blank pages in her sketchbook mocked her with that textured whiteness.

Twenty-one years of sketching, painting, throwing color on canvas’ of varying degrees, making a life out of it. A dream come true. One that would have been impossible if not from the support of her friends and family. One person in particular. Elsa.

Little Elsa could light up Anna’s world by merely stepping into the room. She used to be so very timid and quiet, often opting to hide in the corner with a book than engage with the other kids her age. Anna managed to pull her into their little games anyway.

As the two grew older their interests diverged slightly. They both found joy in the arts, joining in theater at school for fun, playing and listening to music (although their tastes differed vastly at times), and studying the history behind all forms of art. A bond formed and kept them close even when one started painting and sketching while the other used words to color with.

A writer’s search history and an artist’s eye left plenty for friends to laugh and grow concerned about.

Anna lifted her head from the pillow feeling someone fiddle with her twin braids. She smiled already knowing who it was behind her.

“What are you so distressed about?” Elsa hummed out sweetly. Her eyes swept over the paper littered around and the discarded sketchbook. “Can’t think of a good idea?”

Anna groaned again and buried her head back in the pillow. Her reply came muffled and she knew Elsa wouldn’t be able to understand a word of it. This problem she had wasn’t that much of a big deal. Anna knew that. Every artist had periods where they couldn’t draw. An artblock as she so affectionately called it. But this felt different. She had ideas. The vision of what she wanted to draw sat crystal clear in her mind’s eye, but when she picked up the pencil each stroke on the page felt weighted. She knew what she wanted to put on the paper. She hated each stroke she made and the finished result. Weeks of this and the stress of not creating made her head spin. The ride she had been on had stopped with her sitting upside down unable to do anything.

The couch dipped beside her as Elsa sat down. Pale hands pulled the pillow Anna was secretly hoping would suffocate her until freckled cheeks and a pouty lip were visible. Anna whined and reached out for the cushion. Elsa held it out of reach ignoring the dark spot where Anna drooled on it.

“Ah-Ah,” Elsa wagged her finger. Anna’s shoulder slumped forward in despair. “You can get the pillow back and resume your little, um , whatever you were doing after you tell me what’s wrong.”

Sea-green eyes lowered to the open sketchbook, a frown settled on her lips. “I - I hate everything I make and it’s driving me crazy.”

Elsa set the pillow aside and shuffled closer to Anna. She gave her knee a reassuring squeeze and gently asked, “Is it one of your artblocks?”

Anna shook her head, braids swaying. “No, this is different. I know what I want to draw, I have the motivation to draw, but I can’t seem to like what I make. I hate the finished result, even if it looks how I wanted.” Her eyes glistened with frustrated tears, “It’s been like this for weeks and I’m going insane trying to fix it.”

Elsa cupped her cheek, running her thumb soothingly over the skin. Anna nuzzled into her palm, eyes fluttering shut at the coolness of her skin. “Anna,” she opened her eyes to see an amused smirk dancing on pink lips, a glint of humor dancing in blue eyes, “is this your first burnout?”

Her whole body stilled at the question. Burnout had been something she knew her artist friends over the internet talked about. How it could hit someone suddenly or slowly creep on through the years. The former could usually be seen coming and dealt with by short breaks, but the latter often crippled careers as it snuck in through the cracks undetected and infected everything slowly like a poison. Anna gasped lightly at the realization.

The ride she had been on for the majority of her adult life (granted it had only been 3 years since she graduated high school) was fast paced and constantly moving. She did not stop or get off, only urging it to move faster and faster. The need to create and improve outweighed any thought or concern the stress her body and mind were put under. She ignored all the signs, the warnings people told her to look for and now the stress had crushed her.

“What am I gonna do?” Her voice came out broken and unsure. Burnout was a completely foreign field for her. There was no map for her, no field guide to help her navigate through this problem. People mention taking breaks and stepping away from art for awhile to recharge, but that seemed impossible. How could Anna stop creating, when all she wanted to do was create?

“Is this new project for a client?” Elsa noticed the distress on Anna’s face and dropped her hand down from her cheek to grasp shaking ones.

“No, it’s one I plan to sell, or have prints made for my shop.”

Elsa nodded, “Okay. And do you have any client work lined up for the month?”

Anna answered in the negative. She had started a new system for her works where certain months she decided not to take on any client work. It was an attempt not to be too overwhelmed working on custom pieces that allowed her the freedom to work on her own as well. The system worked fairly well until this burnout happened. At least it happened now instead of when she had to work on pieces for clients.

“Okay, okay we can definitely work with this,” she breathed out a plan already forming in her mind. She knew Anna wouldn’t take a break willingly, that wasn’t her style. She would draw and paint until her hands fell off and even then she’d learn to use her feet instead. Nothing would stop her, not even the end of the world. The complete opposite of Elsa who procrastinated her own projects till motivation was high or the deadline approached. She often wondered how they never drove each other crazy doing things so differently. Instead of finding a reason she just blamed it on love. It was better not to question it anyway.

“Anna,” she turned and faced the younger woman determinedly, prepared for protestation, “do you trust me?”

Anna cocked an eyebrow and smirked. “Of course I do, silly. It’s part of why I married you.”

Elsa smiled and held her tongue to keep from commenting. That experience would be one she would never forget. She at her wife, eyes bright and said,

“Then you’ll understand what I’m about to do.”

Anna’s gut twisted in apprehension. She trusted Elsa with her life, but the twinkle in pale blue eyes told her not all of this would be a pleasant experience.

—-

“Anna, what color is the sky?”

From her position in the passenger seat of the car Anna scowled, her eyes screwed shut in a desperate attempt to fall back asleep. Elsa refused to let her in on the plan the day before, only telling her to pack a days worth of clothes and food and then promptly took all her art supplies and locked them inside a large chest. She never quite figured out why they had a large empty chest lying around and when she asked Elsa the older girl shrugged saying something about secrets.

“What.” Anna grumbled confused at the question and irritated at being woken up at three in the morning and rushed out of the house.

Elsa glanced at her from the driver’s seat. “What color is the sky?” She turned her attention back to the road, very much awake and relaxed. The half empty cup of coffee sitting in the cup holder helped.

��What kind of question is that? The sky is blue!” Anna twisted over and leaned her head on the window, arms folded across her chest. Elsa still had yet to tell her where they were going and only mentioned a three hour car ride. That left plenty of time for her to catch up on sleep if her wife would let her.

“No, not - “ Elsa laughed at herself, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I meant what color is the sky right now?”

Anna cracked one eye open and grimaced at the passing street light that blinded her. “Black,” she stated matter-of-factly. Elsa hummed a smile on her face. She let Anna sleep the rest of the way, picking up and sipping her coffee. The low songs of the radio filling the silence in a quiet peace. She didn’t care for the station, but it was one of Anna’s favorites. The little things would make the difference on this trip.

Barely any time had passed, that’s what it felt like to Anna anyway, before a hand on her shoulder gently shook her awake. “What is it now,” she sighed tiredly and shuffled further into the car door. When she agreed to whatever Elsa had planned, losing sleep hadn’t even crossed her mind. She knew she was being unfair to her wife. Elsa only wanted to help. The stress of her burnout had taken its toll without consent and Anna wanted nothing more than to curl up in a corner and sulk. Sleep was the closest she could get right now, but the woman driving had other plans.

“What color is the sky now,” she asked eagerly. Her pale hand fell away and gripped the steering wheel again.

Anna squinted at the light outside. The night had faded to be greeted by the light of the sun just peeking over the horizon. Reds and oranges bled into pale blue as the orb of yellow and white ascended slowly. Any other day the she might have appreciated seeing the sunrise, she might have stared at the way the light shone and glistened along Elsa’s skin, bathing her in rays of gold. But it only annoyed her at having the same question asked in place of sleep. Still she answered,

“Red.”

Her eyes closed again with the plan to catch more sleep. Elsa didn’t bother her after that. She sipped her fresh cup of coffee, having stopped for gas before the sunrise. Anna grumbled under her breath adjusting to get comfortable in her seat again. Pink lips turned up at the corner in amusement. Anna may be grumpy beyond belief this morning and she knew it was her doing. The outcome of this trip will be worth it. Elsa knew it, could feel it in her bones. She could only hope Anna didn’t throw her in the lake as payback when they got there.

Elsa smirked watching, pulling out a pair of sunglasses and slipping them on. The day was only beginning. The coffee singed her tongue as she took another sip.

If Anna did throw her in the lake, she made sure to have plenty of jokes ready.

Gravel crunched under the tires as the car pulled off the main road. The road itself wasn’t too bad in terms of a drive. Anna woke up quietly glancing around at the trees and greenery around them. She said nothing to tell Elsa she was awake and continued to stare out the window. The sight felt familiar, she knew this place but couldn’t quite care enough to place it. Sleep still clouded mind and even if it was Wednesday she liked to sleep in late and stay up late instead. This whole early to bed and early to rise business wasn’t for her.

A light chuckle from her left told Anna all she needed to know. “There’s hot chocolate for you since you’re not the biggest fan of coffee.” Elsa never took her eyes off the road and merely motioned to the cup holder between them.

“Thanks.” Anna took the cup nearly dropping it. No protective sleeve saved her from burning fingers, not even the paper cup itself. “Geez, why’s it so hot!” She glared at her sister.

“Didn’t know how long you were going to stay asleep so I asked them to make it extra hot.”

“Extra hot,” Anna guffawed, “This cup feels like it came straight out of Orodruin itself! You could have got me a protective sleeve for it or something!”

“I didn’t know how long you were going to sleep!” Anna folded her arms at Elsa’s response, “Besides, you always get annoyed at the sleeves opting to burn your fingers anyway.”

“Yes, but the cups are never that hot!”

Elsa only smiled.

The car slowed and stopped with a slight jolt. Anna hadn’t touched her drink again still waiting for it to cool down from Mount Doom level temperatures. She figured out why this place had seemed so familiar. Her parents used to take her camping out here toward the end of summer, always running around the lake and sometimes taking a ferry over to the small island.

“I grabbed us a backcountry permit if you wanted to stay away from the normal campsites.” Elsa held up the piece of paper before tucking it into her jacket pocket. Anna hummed her agreement and stretched in her seat.

“I’m gonna find the bathroom then we can hike to wherever.” She ducked out of the car, breathing in the fresh air. A warm feeling of nostalgia washed over her at the familiar sight. She hadn’t come back to this park in years. Anna walked across the parking lot toward the public restroom. Coming back to the lake hadn’t even crossed her mind. It’s almost sad really. To forget about a place she once loved so deeply, have it take up a corner of her mind as a memory she kept but never thought about.

She turned the faucet off and shook stray water drops from her hands, wiping the remaining wetness on her jeans. Anna never trusted the automatic air dryers.

When she arrived back to the car, Anna bit back a bark of laughter. Elsa had strapped each and every pack and bag to herself and looked overloaded, but all too eager like a puppy. She smiled broadly at Anna and handed her the much cooler cup, “Come on, let’s go! I know of the perfect spot!”

Anna took the cup, her shoulders shaking as she held in her laughter.

“Wait, Elsa. Let me carry some things.” Elsa paused mid-step and tilted her head. All the coffee had gone to her brain in the most adorable way. “How did you even manage to hold all the bags, even mine?” Anna pointedly looked at the deep green duffle bag with a bright orange patch on the side.

“I played a lot of tetris as a kid.” She shrugged but gave Anna two of the bags anyway.

Anna adjusted the strap of a bag on her shoulder. “Alright, now show me this perfect spot.”

The blonde grinned and grabbed Anna’s hand practically dragging her along toward the trail and into the bush. Anna could only keep up and pray her hot chocolate didn’t spill.

—-

Anna had to admit the spot Elsa had picked was perfect. A little spot hidden behind dense shrubbery. Well off the path and if someone did make it this far the thorn bushes were certainly a discouragement. She knew she’d be picking the sharp thorns out of her clothes for a while and if it weren’t for the view and the feeling of peace she’d make Elsa do it without a second thought. Anna’s had her second thought and is still intent on making Elsa do the work.

“Nice view, right?” Elsa wiped the dirt off her hands stepping over to Anna. She had finished setting up the tent and decided to see what was keeping her wife. The view itself looked over the entirety of the lake and the mountains surrounding it. The trees swayed in the breeze.

“It’s beautiful.” Anna tucked a piece of hair back into place. Elsa stepped up beside her. They stared at the scene in silence. A sense of peace forming around them. Anna closed her eyes listening to the birds singing in the trees and the wind rustling the branches. The smell of the air and the sun on her skin eased the tension in her shoulders she didn’t realize had been there. Anna felt free like she could step off the overlook and just fly. Elsa smiled at the content look on her face.

“Anna,” the red-head hummed and turned to face her, “what color is the sky?”

The question had her sighing exasperatedly. How many times would she ask that damned question. It didn’t make sense. She had answered it twice already. Inhaling deeply, Anna decided not to let this ruin the moment. She looked up at the sky, fluffy clouds dotting the expansive space.

“Blue. It’s blue.”

Elsa made no comment. Anna would have yelled at her but the pure love in pale blue eyes killed the thought before it formed. She found herself smiling back and shaking her head lightly. “You’re lucky I love you so much.”

Elsa chuckled, “I know. Now come on, let’s go exploring a bit.”

Anna followed eagerly. Exploring she could do.

—-

Night life in the forest seemed impossibly loud compared to the day. Anna didn’t mind much. She found the noise comforting in a way. All the little life coming out with the safety of darkness. Comfortable now that the sun has gone and they can hide in the shadows of the night. She could understand it. The night offered a sort of peace the day could not. She loved the sun, loved the hustle and bustle of day life, but the night hit differently. She closed her eyes, a soft smile on her lips. The day’s activities replayed in her mind’s eye.

After running around, revisiting old trails and memories and making some new ones, the two women sat around a little fire. Anna made Elsa pick out all the thorns and burrs while she roasted marshmallows. While Elsa didn’t agree with s’mores before dinner she let it slide this once.

They relaxed after that, Anna rigged a stick with fishing gear and went fishing. She didn’t catch anything. She came back soaking wet and Elsa only raised a brow. She changed into some dry clothes and sat by the fire to get warm. Elsa turned from her book then, a cheeky grin on her face and said,

“You know I love it when you -” Anna smacked her before she should finish.

Now they lay peacefully staring up at the stars.

“Anna,” Elsa started in the quiet. Anna hummed in acknowledgment before her mind jump started back to nearly every quiet moment previously,

“You better not ask me what color the sky is or I swear to god you will find yourself at the bottom of the lake!”

The crickets chirped.

“What hue doth the heavens above appears to thine viewing orbs?”

Anna laughed. She laughed loud and hard. She knew Elsa would find a way to rephrase the question the second she threatened her, but she never expected her to phrase it like that. She rolled onto her side and clutched her stomach from the force of her laughter. “I-I can’t -” she wheezed, tears pricking the corners of her eyes, “I can’t breath.”

“You should have let me ask the question normal then.” The cheekiness in her voice had Anna swatting blindly behind her. Her hand connected with nothing but air.

“Fine, this is the last time I’m answering that stupid question,” Anna finally said after she stopped laughing and caught her breath. She rolled back to look at the sky and exhaled deeply a smile on her face, “Black, the sky is black.”

“Wrong.”

Anna propped herself up on her elbow. Wrong. The first response back to her answers and it was to tell her, Anna, that she answered wrong.

“What, how can I be wrong? Are you seeing the same sky I’m seeing?” Anna grit her teeth ready to fully argue her point.

“No, no calm down, feisty pants. Right now you could argue it’s black, or a very deep blue.”

“Then how am I wrong?!”

Elsa kept her gaze on the sky. “I asked you three four times today what color the sky was. Only two of the answers were the same. Can you explain that?” “The sky changes colors, you numpty.”

“So what color is the sky then if it changes?”

Anna didn’t have an answer to that. Elsa turned to face her, the moonlight making her blue eyes glow in the night.

“What color do you say the sky is then,” Anna asked, moving closer to Elsa. The night breeze had a bit of a chill, but she didn’t feel like getting a jacket. Her arm brushed against her wife’s.

“If you asked me what color the sky is, anytime of day or night, I’d tell you it’s white. I know it’s crazy, but think about it. In general people say the sky is blue, but it’s not always blue. You said it yourself, the sky changes colors, so why is it blue then?” She raised a hand and traced along various constellations as she spoke. “Is it because that’s the color we see it as mostly. Blue during the day? The history behind it is actually fascinating, but I won’t go into that. But the sky can be any color depending on when you look. Black, dark blue, orange and red, yellow and pink, purple and light blue, even green. The sky isn’t just one color or one shade. It’s all of them all the time, we just only see what the light shows us. That’s why I say it’s white. White reflects all colors, the sky cycles through the colors based on a bunch of scientific stuff that I’m a bit too tired to get into. I didn’t really prepare to get into that bit anyway.” she laughed at herself.

Anna lay in silence. She never really thought about it like that.

“But why white, why not black?”

Elsa sucked in a small breath before answering, “Black is the absence of colors. If the sky was black that’s all we’d see. A black hole sucking the colors away and leaving nothing behind but darkness. That’s why it’s white and not black.”

“Geez, that took a depressing turn.”

Elsa hummed and entwined her fingers with Anna’s. “Think of it as a prism. The sun shines through and casts the colors fresh and new through the day.”

“A blank canvas.” Anna found herself mumbling aloud. A blank canvas to be painted each day in the same ways that vastly differed if you looked hard enough. The subtle hues shifting day to day, the contrast of reds and oranges against purples and blues. All of it spinning endlessly in a cycle, a prism of color splattered across a canvas of white that never is seen as white.

The two remained watching the stars for a bit longer. The little dots of color splattered across the dark sky. Almost a reverse of my freckles. Anna mused to herself. The crisp air raised goosebumps on her arms.

Anna went to sleep that night, snuggled in her wife’s arms, feeling so refreshed and full of love she thought it might overflow. And it did. Her emotions flowed over in little drops that ran down her cheeks and she whispered over and over how much she loved Elsa. In turn with each ‘I love you’ a kiss was placed on her head, her cheek, her lips, and her body squeezed a bit tighter.

The white sky, painted with the color of night, left them to rest peacefully. The moon watching over them.

The trunk slammed shut and all the bags and trash were loaded in. Not nearly as neatly as before but as long as it wasn’t falling out Anna didn’t care. She awoke buzzing with renewed energy ready and eager to get back to work. Her burnout long forgotten. The three hour car ride didn’t seem so long even though Anna sat wide awake the entire trip. Elsa would probably need a day to recover from the amount of talking Anna did in that small time. Maybe a new book and quiet day in a coffee shop or a day spent curled up in her bed with nothing but mindless games to entertain herself with. Anna made a note to thank Elsa for forcing her out for a day, whatever she wanted.

Anna went to work the moment she stepped through the doorway. Pencil marks flew across the page in hurried fashion almost as if the vision would fade before she could get it down. Supplies were strewn out over the kitchen table and counter tops as Anna fell into what Elsa called ‘The detonation zone’. It was a mess, but also the time and place where Anna seemed to get the most work done.

Guess I’m not cooking. Elsa thought and picked up the phone. She was kinda in the mood for pizza anyway.

Pale blue eyes watched from where she leaned against the wall as the blur of auburn worked in a frenzy. Her movements were both hurried and agonizingly slow to preserve the details in a way only Anna managed to do. A mesmerizing sight she could watch for hours if not for the delivery man ringing her doorbell.

She made sure Anna knew of the food sitting in the living room.

“Okay, thank you!” Came the reply from the kitchen. Elsa chuckled and shook her head taking her own slice or two of pizza. She disappeared into their shared room for the rest of the evening. The one day trip seemed to have worked in Anna’s favor. Elsa made the mental note to schedule more day trips once in a while.

Time ticked by and Anna didn’t even notice. The pizza had gone cold and the sunlight faded away. The brush in her hand was set in the water cup for the last time.

“There.” Anna sat back finished. She smiled at the creation in front of her leaving it to dry as her stomach made known it’s need for food. The clock read late into the night, or early into the morning, depending on how you look at it. Maybe setting an alarm for food and breaks would be a good idea in the future. She decided it’d be worth a shot if only to save her from a stiff back at the end of the day.

Her paint stained hands grabbed a cold slice of pizza and promptly inhaled it followed by three more. The kitchen sat in a disastrous mess and the urge to put off cleaning up until the morning hit hard. Anna considered cleaning up the worst part about doing art. Elsa would likely clean up for her in the morning since she always woke up first. Anna knew that and decided not to let that happen. As much as Elsa said she didn’t mind and that’s what she signed up for by marrying her, Anna wouldn’t have it. Not after what she’d done for her the past day, or really since they first-started dating.

Anna turned the faucet on, warm water cleaning her stained hands, and she began the cleanup.

It wasn’t until around four in the morning that she finally headed to bed. The bedroom door creaked softly. Elsa snored softly, curled on her side snuggling a pillow. The sight made Anna fall in love with her all over again. Anna would never get tired of seeing her wife in such a peaceful and vulnerable state. Gently, she climbed into bed beside her.

“I love you.” she whispered and kissed Elsa’s cheek. Elsa let go of the pillow at the contact and fully snuggled against her wife. Anna wrapped her arms around her and kissed her softly again.

“I love you so much.”

Elsa woke to gentle rays of sun dancing across her face. Untangling herself from Anna she stepped outside of the room. She paused halfway closing the door and looked on fondly at the sleeping mess of her wife.

The kitchen was spotless, save for the canvas resting on the table. Even the sink was clean, supplies neatly drying on the rack where they were supposed to be. A smile graced her lips.

The coffee pot sputtered to life as it began brewing. It was only nine o’clock and Anna likely wouldn’t be up for another few hours. Being your own bosses had their perks. The brown liquid steamed as she poured it into a plain ceramic mug. The rich scent very much welcome this morning.

Anna would always scold her for drinking too much coffee. The thought brought another smile to her face. She really loved Anna and all that came with her.

Coffee in hand Elsa approached the canvas on the kitchen table. She made sure to stay for enough back that if something drastic happened her coffee would not stain the creation. She rounded the table and the sight made her pause. The colors and detail splattered across it showed just how much that camping trip had meant to her.

“Oh Anna,” her eyes lined with overflowing emotions as she took in the painting. “You’re still full of surprises.”

#elsanna #submission #April 2021 contest #prompt: break

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ohmysparkle · 3 years

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Dearly beloved Sparkle, what is it you write?

Absolute nonsense.

Stories - very plot driven, actually developed stories. The work I write here will mostly feature male idols. Some of the things I write do not focus on the featured idol because that’s not the point of my writing. I don’t really like to say I write “for” NCT and Stray Kids because they are not the reason I write or what I’m writing for. I like to write funky stories and these are my little muses that I fold in according to what I want, but most of the time my stories I write about them.

Smut - ok I write lots of this. Guilty as charged. Female reader, because I am a woman and I want to write about the experiences I want to immerse in, based on my previous experiences and my fantasies, including all the things I am able to associate with my anatomy. I draw heavily on things I can relate to/experience, and I don’t want to misrepresent anything that I have no knowledge of.

I make stupid cat edits sometimes too.

Oh, great and beloved Mistress Sparkle, what kind of smut do you write?

I write involving several tropes and elements. I like to have lots of setting to any sort of sex scene, and sex isn't just about actions, as many people write. I like reasoning and justifying, delving deep into why people like certain things, why kinks are gratifying and fulfilling. The things we enjoy in sex aren’t just because they feel good. The most rewarding sexual practices answer to things that are fundamentally psychological. Degradation isn’t hot “just because”, getting choked and spanked doesn’t actually feel good as a stand alone activity - so why do they feel good in certain sexual scenarios?

Most people do things just on the surface, don’t really explore themselves and their feelings, or those of their partner. We live in a superficial world and never question the why’s and the significance of things. The majority of the smut I read is very exploitative, and replicates tropes because (and this is evident in the way it’s written) the writer has been told that X or Y trope or kink is good and they ‘should’ represent it as the peak of sex.

Sex is very poorly represented in this circle, and its always boiled down to binary sub/dom dynamics, aaaand that’s not what happens in the real world nor what I think is most enjoyable in fantasies. Sure, power dynamics are there, but it doesn’t always have to be center stage, nor does it have to be a zero sum thing. It’s all very fluid and flexible, and people unfortunately learn about sex in a way that’s very odd to me. So I try to show different elements that are realistically represented, with all of those emotional components that show us why something feels oh so good.

I primarily enjoy soft femdom. And no, contrary to what you’ve read, the end goal of femdom isn’t latex and whips and chains (even though that sounds great). I am comfortable with most kinks and practices, except those which are evidently immoral. I’m pretty open and I’m not going to act all puritanical and judge anyone.

However, I am very uncomfortable with scenarios where there would be a female insert in a very submissive role with harsh elements like bondage/restriction, impact play, and degradation. You can talk to me about it and we can talk about it in a conversation - but my issue comes with people expecting me to write this or demanding it. I don’t have to explain why, just refrain from doing so because I don’t like it.

Oh wise Sparkle, what groups/members do you like to incorporate in your writings?

For now, I’ve included NCT and Stray Kids. There are several members I like to include in certain things depending on the type of dynamic/scenario I can see them being compatible with. That means, I won’t write everything for everyone - except maybe Hyunjin because I could make all of my writings about my Mr. Sexy Spaghetti Man.

I won’t write for all members, especially not ones that are younger or that I don’t get creative vibes with.

Sparkle, why are you Sparkle?

Because the internet is where we have fun and I can’t be a cat in real life despite wanting to. But in all honesty, I think it’s cute and I don’t really want people to know of me as a person on here. I might have had some TMI slips here and there, like revealing my (formerly) very hot (pre-covid) face, but I don’t want anyone to know much about me here. There is only one person here who knows my name and it was an ACCIDENT.

Sparkle, can you tell us about yourself?

No.

Ok, maybe a little.

I’m in my early-mid-20s. I’m a former hot girl turned quarantine potato, honestly I used to be so hot. Enjoy your 21st year of life as it were the last because after that all of the hangovers and bad mistakes leave a scar on your soul and you’ll get wrinkly and less cool.

Other than my gorge k-boys I love all sorts of pop divas. I adore RuPaul’s Drag Race, cats, coffee (iced, bitter, and black, like my frigid heart), Britney Spears, history, economics, languages. I like nature stuff in general, plants, animals, things like kayaking and hiking when I’m not in potato mode.

My hobbies include crafts like sewing and embroidery, assembling miniature houses, watching freaky movies, finding cat memes, and crying.

I have a concerning obsession with horror films and zombies.

What kind of music does Sparkle listen to with her furry ears?

My music taste varies. It’s either the soundtrack of the life of an anti-war Woodstock hippie or a Studio 54 frequent Halstonette. 60s/70s/80s. I like R&B, soul, jazz (not that nyc white people elevator jazz, but the real jazz), disco, glam rock, classic rock, pop rock, whatever the hell you’d use to describe David Bowie and his unicorn space trips, that stuff Prince did that probably made lots of babies, and Queen.

I adore pop divas - Britney above all. I really like the Weeknd too.

K-pop isn’t what I listen to the most and there are veeeery few songs that I listen to and go “omg wow”. I actually enjoy girl groups more than boy groups.

Precious Sparkle, do you take requests?

Sort of/not really. Feel free to drop an idea/request and I’ll elaborate on it if it’s something I’d like to write. I won’t write everything. I also don’t like receiving a bullet list of steps to follow and what to include that are followed up by “when are you going to do my request?”.

Some of my series have been a result of requests, or I answer them as minifics. Maybe I’ll tweak some of the things you include.

That’s all folks.

#about sparkle the cat

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remingt0nleith · 4 years

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thorns | remington leith

try & find the hidden palaye royale song title in the fic! & additional A/N at the end.

A/N: hi wow long time no write :( SORRY! I have ideas and I try to write then my brain just doesn’t want to put the ideas on the word document. + y’know having depression doesn’t help things bleh... BUT I did write a full something finally (yay bare minimum author things!) This was requested! gonna keep trying to turn out requests & work on dark cherries also my birthday is on thursday and i’m turning 24 (wow im getting old help) & also the bastards comes out the day after so yay! lets chat about it when its out ok?

Request: Where Remington cheats on the reader and she finds out, but he does everything he can to get her back?

Thorns - A Remington Leith one-shot. || 1.9K words || under cut.

The catalyst for a ruined night came in a round of shots. Emerson poured the amber liquid into hot pink shot glasses that the boys had picked up days prior. Remington wasted no time in downing his, barely flinching at the bitter taste that now coated his tongue.

“Slow down there, cowboy”

Sebastian laughed before throwing his own shot back, placing a hand on Remington’s cheetah print covered shoulder.

“We can’t have our lead singer fucked up out of his mind, can we?”

The eldest brother chided playfully as he took the bottle from Emerson and poured more shots.

As the brothers drank and talked anxiously about their first show of a new tour, Remington’s phone buzzed in his back pocket, taking it out he suppressed an eye-roll at the message filling his screen;

My Love <3: HEY BABY JUST WANT TO WISH U LUCK TONIGHT YOU’LL KILL IT. LOVE U.

He wasn’t sure what had gotten into him lately, usually, he’d be thrilled at the love and adoration his girlfriend of three years was showing him. She was always cheering him on, listening to his music, and supporting his band in every way she could. Although she was unable to come to most shows due to a fast-paced work schedule she always made a point to let the band of brothers know they had her support. That should’ve been enough to keep Remington happy but recently he had become cold towards his girlfriend and as he put his phone away without responding all thoughts of her disappeared as well.

Remington headed backstage after the show still high from the performance. The adrenaline from the encouraging crowd and kick-ass concert his band delivered had Remington feeling happier than he had in months. Once in the dressing room, the boys quickly changed out of their sweaty stage attire into more relaxed outfits, and like clockwork, shots were once again being handed out.

Once everyone had a decent buzz going the boys and their crew headed out to a nearby nightclub to celebrate the success of the show. Remington realized halfway to the club that he had forgotten his phone in the dressing room, a fact that didn’t phase him, in fact he was happy to be rid of the constant ringing.

Once inside the packed club, Remington waved goodbye to his brothers and made his way to the bar. His buzz had diminished slightly in the car ride and that was a no go for Remington so he ordered a drink, which quickly became two, then three before he headed to the dance floor.

Packed in a sea of bodies the singer danced to the music, enjoying the happiness that came from the night’s events as well as the alcohol in his system. When a manicured hand grabbed him and pulled him close, he didn’t object, instead, he wrapped his arms around the dark-haired beauty.

The pair danced together to the techno music blaring overhead, strobe lights illuminating their faces, hands roaming freely over each other’s bodies before the woman leaned in and planted a sloppy kiss to Remington’s lips.

If there was a moment of panic, a spark of recognition somewhere in the sober part of his mind, Remington ignored it. Instead, he deepened the kiss with the gorgeous stranger, when the pair eventually pulled away from the kiss, they headed to the bar for more drinks.

When Sebastian came to let Remington know it was time to head to the hotel, the frontman wasted no time in asking this new girl if she’d like to go with him. Much to the dismay of the older (and wiser) brother, she said yes and everyone piled into the van and were chauffeured back to the hotel to continue the party.

Morning light filtered through the window a sign of a new day, but as Remington opened his eyes the gravity of last night hit him. He was alone in his hotel bed, the white sheets crumpled and covered in streaks of makeup (his or hers, he wasn’t sure). Flashbacks of last night filled his mind and all at once he realized the hickeys on his body were from a stranger, the realization filled him with shame and dread.

He found his phone which had been placed on his nightstand by one of his brothers or their touring manager (who always cleaned up after the boys’ wild nights) and on it were several unread texts and calls which came in at varying points of the evening.

[9:13 pm] My Love <3: It should be time for u boys to be on stage! I’ll be stalking twitter for updates and vids love u

[12:02 am] My Love <3: Watched a ton of vids that are already being posted! Get back to me when u get this my love so proud of u xx

[3:56 am] My Love <3: Guess your phone died or your out celebrating a great night. Call me when you see this or wake up. I love you.

[10:20 am] 5 missed calls

[10:27 am] *attached photo* REMINGTON.... FUCK YOU.

The photo on his phone screen displayed the girl from last night under the covers as a passed out Remington slept beside her. The caption didn’t say anything besides a winking emoji and she tagged him and his band’s account.

Instantly, he was dialing his girlfriend’s number, hands shaking as he paced around the spacious hotel room desperately waiting for an answer.

“Hello?”

Rose answered, soft voice hoarse from hours of crying.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry..”

Remington started to explain, words tumbling out of his mouth faster than he could form them.

“Save it”

Rose snapped before continuing her voice harder and more assured now than it was just moments ago.

“I never thought you’d do this even as the band started to gain an audience, I told myself that I had nothing to worry about. All the pretty girls and boys didn’t matter because what we had was strong but it sucks being proven wrong huh?”

Remington’s sudden surge of tears prevented him from speaking as the pain in his chest grew with each word. The saddest part of it all was that she was right and that ripped him up inside.

“Rose I-”

he whispered, voice barely audible even to himself.

Instead of an answer he was left hearing the sound of the call disconnecting.

The tour passed by in a daze for Remington and while his brothers desperately wanted him to be more present, they understood. He’d get on stage and sing, forgetting about the pain in his heart for that hour or so, as soon as the curtain closed the ache in his chest was back, a cruel reminder to the life-changing mistake he’d made.

Rose had cut off all contact with her now ex-boyfriend instead choosing to go through Emerson to inform him she was moving out of their shared apartment in LA.

Each night in his hotel bed, memories of the past three years filtered through his brain until he exhaustingly cried himself to sleep.

Remington used Emerson’s phone to send a series of texts to Rose to apologize, to accept full responsibility but the only reply he received was instructions to give Emerson his phone back and to leave her alone.

Just as quickly as the tour started it was now coming to a close a few months later. The boys were back in LA for a sold-out show in typical Los Angeles fashion. Remington never stopped trying to get ahold of Rose -- he sent flowers to her new address, letters where he begged for her back, apologizing and pleading for her forgiveness yet he was never awarded a reply. He didn’t blame her at all but that didn’t mean the pain hurt any less, he’d do anything for a second chance.

Shots of vodka were taken, cheers and high fives were given and the boys hit the stage. Remington gazed out into the crowd, a see of silhouettes behind bright stage lights. After a few songs, Remington sat down at the end of the stage, dark boots quietly thumping against the side.

“Y’know fans like to think we’re perfect”

he stated which earned a chorus of “I love you’s” as well as cheers from the crowd.

He smiled before continuing,

“As much as I love to hear it, it’s not true and sometimes we royally fuck up. I fucked up and these past few months have been hell so I wrote this song.”

The crowd applauded as they watched their favorite singer head to the piano, the spotlight shining on him as he sat down.

“This song is called Thorns,”

Remington began to play a hauntingly slow ballad about losing the love of your life and how apart of you is lost as well.

The pain in my heart is defeating me

Cracking me open for all to see

I’m numb to life, deep inside

Needing you to realize, you’re the better part of me

An illusion of love is what I fear

Taking each step is now unclear

A rose garden in my dreams,

You leaving now in front of me

Take my heart it’s filled with thorns

A rose trapped inside a perfect storm

Throw me to the wolves I’m on my knees

Begging for my rose to please believe

I made a mistake that I can see

Yet this pain without you is deafening

My heart of thorns cuts me deep

Paralyzing me and making me weak

Please my rose I beg you, have sympathy.

The rose garden in my dreams,

But you’re leaving right now in front of me

Take my heart it’s filled with thorns

A rose trapped inside a perfect storm

Throw me to the wolves I’m on my knees

Begging my rose to please believe

I love you Rose it’s all I know, I’m sorry for all my sorrow

By the time the song ended, Remington had tears blurring his vision. He was so wrapped up in playing the song he didn’t realize he had started to cry but to the audience that just made it so much more beautiful.

After the show, Remington hurried off the stage in order to collect his emotions but in the dressing room sat Rose. Her blonde hair was curled and she wore a red dress and in a true movie moment a dozen roses sat in her lap.

“Rem that song…”

she started but before she could finish, Remington ran over and threw his arms around her, hugging her to make sure she wasn’t just a figment of his imagination.

“I’m so sorry”

he whispered once she hugged back.

“The flowers were from Seb”

Rose mumbled, green eyes flicking down to them after their hug. Sebastian must have ordered them because he knew what Remington was planning. That was his older brother alright, always playing the papa bear role.

The singer’s mind was racing a mile a minute, he had a million questions but all he could do was apologize.

Rose shushed him with a chaste kiss before speaking,

“By no means have I forgiven you completely. That song however beautiful doesn’t make everything go away but I’m willing to work on us”

Remington nodded, happy she was here and willing to give their relationship another shot.

“I’m willing to do whatever it takes,”

he whispered, wrapping her in another hug.

They knew it would be a long road to get back to where they were before but Remington was happy he had his Rose back in his life.

A/N: omg that song was not that good I came up with it on my own though and I’m not a lyricist lol hope u enjoyed xx

#remington leith fic #remington leith imagine #remington leith #request #palaye royale fic #palaye royale imagine

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codango · 4 years

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10 Things I Love About The Untamed

I’m just gonna spitball this.

I clicked on The Untamed in Netflix because a lot of authors I admire were geeking out about it on Twitter. I’d seen it around Tumblr, but I’m not much of a TV show person, and there are 50 episodes. I have a bajillion books on Kindle I can’t get to. I did not have time for this.

But these authors were into it, man. And I’m trying to respect the tastes of people I respect, and allow it to broaden my horizons. So last weekend, I said fuck it, and clicked on the show.

Halfway through the first episode, I was absolutely one hundred percent sure I did not have time for this, and took to an online writers’ group to say, um, hey y’all, this is bonkers, I don’t understand anything, the CGI is awful, the martial arts on wires is terrible, and the fake playing of musical instruments is worse, and do I really want to do this?

And then my betrayers said, Yes, you really fucking do. Traitors, all of them.

Get through the first three episodes, they said.

Guh, fine. I mean, I like Gintama, I can respect that instruction. So I did.

And by the time I got to, oh, about the 15th or 16th episode, you could not have paid me to spend my time any other way. Dear god.

Hence, a list of ten things I have fallen in love with about The Untamed. This is pretty much spoiler free, just evaluating the feels:

1. It is SUPER applicable to our current zeitgeist.

Globally, I’d say. A common recurring theme in the show is what is morality anyway? What makes something good or bad, black or white? Why do we choose to follow these ideals or those? Do we listen to our gut about our loyalty to this or that person, this or that teaching? How do we know when we’re being deceived or deceiving ourselves?

2. Family is everything and nothing.

This really ties into the first point, I think, especially with how divided so many families are right now with politics as they are across the world. How do you love a family member who doesn’t think like you do? Who rejects you and makes it known to the world that you, in fact, are the one in the wrong? What do you fucking do with that?

This includes found family, which the show explores beautifully.

3. Morality demands things of you.

Life is messy, and there are no easy answers. What does your morality demand from you? Listen, listen hard, and follow it. Question it constantly.

4. Sometimes you just want someone to tell you what to do.

When life gets SUPER messy, and you’ve tried your damnedest, and everything is still going to shit, god, wouldn’t it be nice if someone just told you what to do?

Who can’t relate to that emotion?

5. Romance is wwwwaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyy more than sex.

There is no way, zero way, that the two main characters are not in love. Zero. There is no goddamn way to read their relationship as straight and platonic. They never kiss, but in fact, no one kisses. There is one (1) straight romance that we see unfold over the course of the show, and even they do not have any physical intimacy onscreen.

Most people looking into The Untamed probably know that its source material is a BL novel. In that context, the heroes are unquestionably queer. However, the material from the book that the TV show left out is mostly dubcon and external and internal homophobia (yes, I read the BL novel, too. I did nothing else but wallow in this show for like four days).

I’m not here to kinkshame, but I am here to say that the soft-eyed, I-would-die-for-you romance onscreen was way more heartpounding for me than the hardcore sex of the BL novel. I also didn’t feel that the homophobia in the book was dealt with in any particularly meaningful way; it was just there. Your mileage may vary.

There are perhaps two physically intimate scenes in the book that I’d call sweet and would have liked to have seen onscreen. But even those could still be considered dubcon lite for readers with triggers or squicks in that area.

So when we take out the homophobia and the sex, we’re left with SO MUCH romance. Beautiful teasing, drunken escapades, flirty looks, stolen glances, awkward blushing, inside jokes, and about a bajillion declarations of loyalty and I’m-with-you-forever.

6. Friendships across genders are things of beauty, and I want more of them onscreen, dammit.

The main characters both interact respectfully with women constantly. One of the main characters develops a friendship so strong and loyal with a woman that it reduced me to tears on more than one occasion. And it is never, ever even remotely hinted as being romantic.

They are hilarious together, and fierce together, and goddamn, their friendship is beautiful. It’s honestly one of my favorite elements of the show.

In fact, all in all, there are just some really fantastic female characters in this show. They’re well-rounded and entertaining and surprising.

7. Sometimes mistakes create damage that just can never be fixed.

Sometimes that damage hurts, hurts so much. But there’s still life after it. Sometimes life will look very different, but there is always life, and life will always hold beauty. Keep going, loves.

8. Loving and guiding the next generation is important and rewarding.

Hatred and hurt are taught and passed down, but so is love and healing. You can always choose to be kind. It’s important for those younger than us to see that.

9. The music is beautiful.

Again, the fake playing of the musical instruments by the actors is, ahem, not great, but the soundtrack itself is gorgeous.

10. This show is a gift to bisexuals.

There are so many—so many—very pretty people in this show. Augh.

#the untamed #mdzs #wangxian

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artistic-writer · 4 years

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The Contract :: CS Omegaverse :: Ch 9

Title: The Contract Rating: E Summary: Emma had never wanted much in her life, despite being married to one of the richest men in the world. For ten years she has felt like a prisoner in her own marriage, denied the one thing she wants the most, but her husband cannot help but bargain her want like a cheap business deal. Enter Killian Jones, the Alpha her husband has hired to make sure she gets what she wants. And then some.

AO3 - Ko-Fi (100% of coffee’s bought go towards buying @adognamedkillian toys and treats!)

A/N: Ok, so, full disclosure, the next two chapters will be mostly smut. Those of you waiting for Graham to get what’s coming to him will have to wait a little longer. I’m sure you won’t mind the smut though, right?

Artwork by me, @artistic-writer and beta’d by the lovely @shardminds who deserve all the love you guys can throw her way. And as ever, thank you to all the ladies in Discord! Thanks ladies!

This is an Omegaverse fic featuring A/B/O dynamics. Whilst this varies from fandom to fandom, for the purposes of my fic, there will be no mpreg. Just so you know. There will however be knotting, breeding, heats and other delicious things that come along with A/B/O. If you do not know what A/B/O is, feel free to message me :) Many thanks to @hollyethecurious @shardminds @kmomof4 @darkcolinodonorgasm @resident-of-storybrooke and @ineffablecolors for letting me bounce my complicated ideas of you lol

If you wish to stay away from this fic, blacklist the A/B/O tag.

Taglist: I’ll be honest, i have lost my taglist for this fic, so if you want a tag, please message me here on on discord (Salem #5158/ [email protected]) and I’ll add you! I’ve tagged the following people i KNOW want to read this, but i don’t want to accidentally tag you if you do not like ABO.

@hollyethecurious @shardminds @kmomof4 @resident-of-storybrooke @darkcolinodonorgasm @thisonesatellite @xemmaloveskillianx @hookedonapirate @teamhook @winterbaby89 @carpedzem @courtorderedcake @profdanglaisstuff @itsfabianadocarmo @donteattheappleshook @ultraluckycatnd @jennjenn615 @melly326 @klynn-stormz @stahlop @tiganasummertree

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Killian didn’t sleep much when Emma was around. Instead, he liked to simply lie there and listen to her sleeping, soft snoring soothing the ache around his heart that often crept in during the early hours when he remembered she wasn’t his. Previously he would inhale the scent of her hair as she rested her head on his chest, enjoying the way that she smelled of him and he had thought it the closest thing to marking her that he could get. And he was happy with that until she had turned up to his apartment in the middle of the night with the biggest revelation about herself he could have ever imagined.

Emma wasn’t some lowly Beta woman crazed by an Alpha’s knot because she had experienced it a few too many times to simply slink back off to her husband. No, Emma was nothing of the sort. In fact, she was the answer to his prayers, the solution to all his worries that had miraculously appeared at the exact moment he had wanted her to. Emma was Omega, and Killian’s life had just become more complicated.

He wasn’t sure what it meant for her now. She wasn’t the same person she was yesterday, that was for sure, and she would need some time to adjust to her new body. Things would happen, things she should have experienced more than half her lifetime ago, thanks to some cruel suppressants and more than misguided Alpha thinking. The Humbert’s had, for whatever twisted reason, kept her constantly drugged and in a complete state of suppression, and all Killian could do was hope that Emma would have no residual effects.

He didn’t know what she wanted to do now, with the new information that she was someone she had never known. He knew what it meant for him. There had always been something about Emma that pulled him towards her, stroked the inner animal like it was some kind of pet. She owned him now, body and soul, whether she knew it or not. There wasn’t a single thing he wouldn’t do for her and he would fight tooth and nail to make sure she was always safe, including from him right now. A full rut could scare her away, so he would go as slow as he could, wrap her up in his arms and protect her for the duration of her heat. Protect her from other Alphas, protect her from the new world she was about to experience, and above all else, keep her safe from Graham Humbert.

The silvery light of the moon shone through the skylight in Killian’s bedroom ceiling as it reached its peak, resting high in the night sky against a glittery backdrop of bright white stars that twinkled around it like they were dancing. Their naked bodies were entwined, sheets cast aside in favour of each other being the only covering they needed that night, the moonlight bathing them both in a blue hue that helped Killian peruse the woman in his arms She had somehow become stronger than the woman he had left a few days ago, even in sleep she exuded a new presence, and it made Killian smile.

She was stretched out like a content cat along the length of his body, his fingers stroking through her sex messed hair so gently he was almost hovering his fingers over the shape of her skull. Her face was nuzzled into the juncture of his neck and where she had previously been stroking the softness of his chest hair, her hand had gone limp over the steady beat of his heart, and he had covered it with his own. He needed sleep, but he didn’t want to miss a single breath she took, his lips pressed permanently to her crown where he could inhale her brand new scent.

It had been becoming stronger as the hours had passed by, their first tie having soothed the crippling pain of her heat but a new wave of contractions and perspiration hot on its heels. Killian could smell it; in her hair, on her skin, on the wisp of breath that escaped her lips when she shifted position and her jaw dropped open, and he was addicted to the sweetness of it. It made him hard and he didn’t hide his arousal, the thought of making sure Emma was cared for and kept as safe as possible giving him an impossibly hard cock.

She shifted her position as if she knew, her hand slipping out from under his and hovering over the layer of hair that travelled down his torso. When she got to his waist, Killian growled, his entire body vibrating and his hips nudging his erection into her waiting hand. He felt Emma smile against his chest and she lifted her chin, inhaling the woody sea salt flavour of Killian’s skin, something too good not to taste with a quick dart of her tongue.

“You’re up,” Killian rasped, his fingers setting a steady pace as he tapped over the nerves at the base of her spine.

“Mmm, so are you,” Emma purred groggily, seizing his cock in her grasp. Killian gasped from the sudden contact, his surprise quickly turning to lust as, with a low rumbling growl, he scooped her up in his arms and flipped them over until she was trapped beneath him.

“I’m trying not to be,” Killian snarled, nuzzling her scent gland with the tip of his nose. “But, love, if you don’t smell like the most enticing thing I’ve ever encountered.” Killian made sure she knew exactly what she was doing to him. With a nudge of his knee she was open for him and a thrust of his hips had her slick coating his length, her breathy sigh like music to his ears.

“You want a taste?” Emma crooned, her voice unfamiliar to her own ears. When Killian looked up at her, the darkness in his eyes had turned them a stormy grey and Emma grinned like a cheshire cat. “You want to taste me, Alpha?”

Emma used his title without even realising it, the word slipping from her lips like it was the most natural thing in the world. She felt more alive than she ever had, like she had the most energy she had ever possessed, and her skin itched from how electric it felt against his. She needed Killian, on her, in her, and as his dizzying scent washed over her, another wave of slick between her legs had Killian clawing at her skin as he moved down her body.

“I’m going to fucking devour you,” Killian groaned through clench teeth, sliding further down her petite frame, leaving hungry kisses in his wake. “My sweet, beautiful Omega,” he breathed against her skin between kisses, his tongue darting out to taste the sugary sweat on her skin.

Emma was in heaven, a really lucid dream, or somewhere in between, and either way she really didn’t care. What Killian was doing to her body, his tongue like a cool balm on the heat of her skin, snaking its way towards the ache between her legs between feverish kisses that sent shivers wracking her spine, it didn’t bear thinking about. If she moved he held her down, intent on lapping up every inch of her flesh with a feral growl that made her yearn for him even more.

It was all new, not the emotional feelings because if Emma was honest she had been having those for a while, but the physical, real tactile presence that was Killian Jones. Before a few days ago, Emma thought he was something special, someone who could make her forget the bullshit of her own life, if only for a night here and there, but what Killian Jones was was something else. Every cell in her body reacted to his touch, his voice, even the way he looked at her, and she loved every single minute of it.

Killian reached his destination, the apex of Emma’s thighs and the gateway to his redemption. Her scent overpowered him, his eyes rolling in the back of his head and his lips quivering in gratitude to whatever Gods had seen fit to bless him with such a delightfully decadent Omega. He hadn’t even feasted upon her newly secreted Omega slick, and yet, Killian knew she would taste different. His cheek pressed to the inside of her thigh, scruff burning the skin there as he rubbed it back and forth, his lips curling into a lustful snarl on each inhale. Killian settled into position between Emma’s legs and helped her spread them even wider with two gentle hands.

“Hurry,” Emma panted.

“Easy, love,” Killian coaxed gently, nipping her inner thigh. “All in good time.”

His tongue was on her before she could muster anything but a whine and Emma’s entire body stiffened in pleasure. It was too much, like lightning striking her dead, flashes of white behind her eyes the only thing letting her know that she was still alive. Everything was more defined, her senses sharper, and when Killian’s skilled tongue swiped through her parted folds again, her hand flew down to clutch the hair of his head between her legs and he lifted his gaze to meet hers as she watched.

“Oh, my Omega likes to watch her Alpha consume her,” Killian noted with a smirk, keeping his eyes locked to hers, pupils blown wide with arousal as he deliberately lapped at her slick slowly with a wide, flat stroke of his tongue and with a hum of content.

“Fuck,” Emma hissed, grabbing his hair tighter and moving his lips to her clit. “There,” she whispered, her eyes falling closed and her fingers slipping from his hair, her head falling back onto the pillow when Killian obeyed.

“Oh, here?” He panted, hot, wet breath ghosting her sex, his fingers taking over teasing her, slipping through her slick and drawing hard circles on her clit with his newfound lubricant. He was grinning, jovially manic at the sight of her at his mercy and when she arched her back off the bed, angling her hips towards him with another heavy lidded stare, he gave her a dark smirk and a raised eyebrow. “Aye, right there, eh, love?”

She nodded and mewled in delight, her cheeks blossoming with a heat that was unseen in the darkness but felt like lava on her skin. Emma’s bottom lip rolled under her teeth as she watched him eat her like a man possessed, the moonlight shimmering across his shoulders as his muscles rippled each time he craned his neck in an attempt to dive deeper into her. She had no words, just the buzz in her ears and the vibrating of her skin, deafening her with arousal, but it wasn’t enough. She felt an immense need to fall, so painfully close to the edge of her orgasm like she had never known before, her body screaming on the inside for more.

“More,” Emma breathed, sweat beading across her chest, her hands slipping through it when she hungrily kneaded her breasts to try and ease some of the fiery ache burning her from the inside out.

“Yes ma’am,” Killian growled with a smirk.

He was willing to do whatever she wanted to make sure she was cared for in the way she saw fit. His cock was rock hard and his knot had already begun to push its way out of its sheath, the bedclothes a poor substitute as he ground himself down onto it with each swipe of his tongue as he doubled down his efforts. She was dripping wet, the light beard covering his face absolutely soaking wet from her nectar, her body producing much more that he could demolish before she was begging him for what she really wanted.

“Please, Killian,” she whined. “Please, Alpha.”

Emma’s heat had reared its head again, the needy creature dwelling inside of her finally breaking the surface of her subconscious with a distressed whimper that told Killian she needed something more. She needed the one thing an Alpha could give an Omega in such desperate times, her own body screaming at her to end her suffering with the delicious burn and stretch of a knot, and Killian was more than happy to oblige. He would happily leave the comfort of a fine meal to bury himself inside of her and give Emma the heat soothing orgasm her body really sought.

Killian sat back on his heels, kneeling between her wide open thighs, one hand lazily stroking himself to relieve some of the frustration he had pent up from his own rut. The fact that Emma’s heat and his rut had arrived together had not gone unnoticed. Even if she had stopped the suppressants of her own accord, it could have taken weeks before her heat arrived. The fact they were in sync meant something like they were destined, fated, soul mates even. Killian had never been so sure of anything in his life.

“You’re my Omega,” he purred darkly, moving closer to the apex of her thighs and easing the tip of his cock through her folds. “Only I can give you what you need.”

Emma immediately whimpered, her body crying out for more of him. “Yes,” she breathed.

Killian groaned, swiping his thumb through her slick, towering over her in a flash and slipping the digit into her mouth. Emma instantly sucked at his thumb, humming in appreciation for the new flavour of herself, like the freshest oranges, initially sweet but with a sour note that lingered on her tongue. Killian watched her, a wry, filthy smirk on his face.

“Say it,” Killian growled, barely able to control the tremor in his hand as he guided himself into her that little bit more.

“Alpha.” Emma let his thumb go with a pop and clamped her hands around his face, pulling his lips even closer than they were before, and letting her breath ghost his mouth. “Only you have what I crave.” The room was suddenly hot, the elevated temperature a combination of his rut and her heat, and Emma arched her back so Killian’s cock was sliding into her even more. “I’m yours.”

“Again, Omega,” Killian demanded, his voice like gravel and his lips hovering over hers with the tease of a kiss. With a forceful thrust of his hips, he was inside of her, back where he belonged, where he felt the most secure, and when she quivered with the finality of her pleasure, he nudged her nose with his to bring her back down to him. “Again, love,” he said more gently, coaxing her eyes open by brushing his thumb under her eyelids, and when they fluttered open and focused on him, he gave her a smile so endearing Emma thought her heart might explode.

“I’m all yours, Killian, I’ll always be yours.” Emma lifted her head and smashed her mouth into his, devouring him, drowning in the kiss that he returned with ardent passion. Tongues duelled, teeth clashed, and blood pounded in her ears, the taste of herself on his lips like a drug, instantly rendering her addicted. His body shifted again, pressing his slick coated cock into her and drawing a whimper from her lips that was so unmistakably Omega, his baser animal howled inside of him to claim what was his.

Killian fought his rut telling him to stay exactly where he was and slipped out of her with a groan, a sound that was mirrored by Emma’s own disdain, but she had no time to object before he was roughly grabbing her by the hips and flipped her onto her stomach. Emma squealed with glee but the sound was muffled by the pillow she had buried her face into, Killian’s pillow that overwhelmed her with Alpha scent and had her lifting her hips in an instinct she had only recently unlocked.

Killian smirked, beads of sweat clinging to his brow as he gave her arse a playful slap to each cheek and then buried his nose between them to taste her again. Emma shuddered when he inhaled, long and deep, like her scent was the one thing he required to survive. His tongue darted out to lick through her sodden folds once more, and Emma pushed back onto his face with a begging whine that roused him back from his hunger.

“Bloody hell, you’re such a good girl,” Killian growled, fearing he wouldn’t be able to hold back much longer, shuffling forward on his knees and lining himself back up with her heat. Emma’s muscles twitched at the welcome intrusion and she melted into the bed when his hands found her hips and pulled her back onto his cock at the same time he gave her a forceful thrust. “You do present so well for your Alpha.”

Emma had no words, just sounds of pure lustful pleasure as Killian finally began to move inside of her. It was everything she wanted, what her body craved the most, and it instantly soothed the fire in her blood. Each thrust was deep, long strokes of his marble hard cock that worked him up more and more with each one, his lips curling back in a feral snarl and his hands gripping the flesh over her hip as he fought to contain his instincts. His thighs shook, wiry hair pressing into the creamy skin of her behind, making sure that every inch of him was as far inside of her as he could get without knotting her, needing to feel the deepest innermost parts of her core hugging him like a cushioned vice that told him he was exactly where she wanted him to be.

He trembled to contain himself but there was no point because the second Emma stretched out like a dog in a play bow, the beast was free and he was gone. Heavy hands were on her back, clawing at her skin before Killian blanketed her with his bulk, one arm finding its way under her chin and settling around her neck. It was a tender embrace but also dominant, a true Alpha laying claim to what was his, and Emma’s elbows buckled under his weight, both of them collapsing to the sheet.

“Oh, fuck,” Emma whispered, her hand flying out to clutch at one of the wooden spindles of Killian’s headboard as his cock reached new places inside of her and his knot stretched her opening that little bit more. Her knuckles turned white from how hard she was pulling against it and with a splitting sound it broke under her assault, the shard of softwood cast aside in favour of Killian’s fingers when he skimmed his hand up her arm and dislodged it from her hold.

“Shh,” he soothed, lips next to her ear. He canted his hips, hard, and Emma stiffened a little with the welcomed pain that came from the stretch of his knot bulb threatening to enter her core. “I’ve got you, darling.”

With his words Emma relaxed, but the need was nowhere near sated. She needed all of him and arched her back, hips lifting in a silent plea underneath his weight that he interpreted immediately. He increased his pace, slipping in and out of her with ease, the wet sounds coming from between them adding to both their arousals. His whole body shook, each thrust finding a place further inside of her that threatened to hold him in place, the cacophony of moans and lustful whimpers that filled the room setting his rhythm.

Emma locked her fingers in his, the sound of her cries jumping higher in pitch, a sure sign that she was close, the pink tinge to her cheeks signalling her impending orgasm. She needed a knot, more than anything else in the world, and right now Killian was the only person who could give it to her. He quickened his pace even more, the sound of skin slapping skin now gone, instead, ragged breaths and Emma’s pleas echoing in Killian’s ears.

“Breed me, please,” she breathed out.

She turned her head sideways and shot him a pleading look, just before his hips jerked erratically against her arse, his now exposed knot pushed its way into her body and sent her rocketing for the sun where she would surely be burned alive. Emma’s orgasm triggered Killian’s and he emptied himself inside of her, his arm wrapped tightly around her and her scent gland pulsing so close to his mouth Killian could feel the thrum of it on his lips. As soon as they tied, his urges eased, but her scent was almost too overpowering to ignore and Killian closed his eyes and scraped his teeth over the gland in her neck ever so gently.

“Oh my god,” Emma whimpered, craning her head out of the way and allowing him more access. She didn’t know why she was just following her body’s reaction, her words slipping from her mouth before she realised what she was saying or doing, but when Killian had grazed her scent gland her inner core had fluttered around his knot and triggered another, weaker orgasm.

“Fuck, yes, mark me, Alpha.”

Killian’s throat closed up and he was struggling to fight his instincts. How was he supposed to? Emma, with a mile wide smile and a rosy post-coitus glow over her entire body, was both a blessing and a curse. She had no idea of what her words meant, less how her words would affect a rutting Alpha. Trust him to fall in love with an Omega currently married to a Humbert, one of the most powerful Alpha families in the world. It didn’t matter what Emma said during her heat because when a few days had passed and they were both back to their normal selves, he was certain she would be back in Graham’s arms, whether she wanted to be or not. She couldn’t have married into a more difficult family to try and escape.

Her content hum pulled him back to the now and back to her prone form beneath him, slowly wriggling. Killian eased the weight of his torso off her, supporting himself with an arm locked at the elbow on either side of her torso, the distance between him and her intoxicating scent gland easing his rut urges somewhat for now. He kissed her skin, a sheen of heat induced sweat slowly evaporating into the room, moisture collecting on his lips as he skimmed them over her shoulder blade with his own hum of appreciation.

She was beautiful, truly marvellous, and he couldn’t keep his hands to himself. Hard skin on his palms scuffed over the smoothness of her back, outlining the contours of her body. His lips followed, pressing quick but lingering kisses to her spine, each ridge tasting like the finest undiscovered delicacy when his tongue darted out between each one. Her whole skin was alive, buzzing with the faintest electrical undertones of euphoria, a pink blossom of a blush evident over her entire body.

“You smell good,” Emma hummed, peeking over her shoulder and enjoying the way Killian’s fringe fell over his face, the almost pitch black accenting his eyes which had returned to their previously Mediterranian sea blue.

“You taste good,” he teased, parroting her tone before licking the stiff tip of his tongue from the base of her spine to her neck, abruptly ending there and jumping to press a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “You always taste good,” he said with a grin, kissing her again.

“Do I taste different now?” Emma asked shyly but Killian’s senses were still overpowered by the freshness of the taste of her slick, so he gave her a quizzical look.

“Whatever do you mean, love?”

“Because of my heat,” she clarified with a little hesitancy.

“A little,” Killian told her, aware of the insecurities her heat would have inevitably brought with it. “And all the better for it.”

“You said you liked it before though, when I was...” Emma’s voice was suddenly small and Killian knew exactly why.

Being suddenly thrust into the world of being an Omega would be confusing for anyone. Just like most things in life, Killian knew that Emma would be experiencing some very strange behavioural instincts and some even stranger emotions. Her heat would have opened her self doubt, creating a needy mess of a creature who, without a family to help her understand what was happening to her, would be so bewildered. As an Alpha, Killian felt it his duty to show her being Omega was more than what she had previously known.

“Emma,” he began, licking his lips and taking a breath. “I know the last day has been confusing. I can only imagine how finding out something about yourself you have never known before makes you feel.” He paused briefly and when Emma gave him a little nod, he knew it was okay to continue. “But rest assured, as I live and breathe, you could never disappoint me.” He gave her a soft but adamant smile, brushing the hair aside that was blocking his view of her eyes and enjoying the way she rolled her shoulders in an attempt to have him touch her somewhere else.

“How do you know-?” She blushed, ashamed he could so easily have read her fears.

“You’re something of an open book, love.” He winked, flashing her a boyish grin. “And I’m here, for as long as you need, to help with any worries you might have, alright?”

“Alright,” Emma agreed.

It wasn’t long before her first questions came blurting out before she could stop them.

“Why did I-,” she stuttered. “Why did I ask you to mark me?”

“Ah, well-,” Killian began, pawing at the patch of skin behind his ear before she cut him off with a newfound confidence.

“What does it mean?”

“Well-.”

“Why would I say that?” Emma frowned to herself, drumming her fingers on the pillow beside her face.

“Love-.”

“And why didn’t you do it?”

Killian swallowed hard. Emma had no idea of the weight her words carried, so that was something he would need to address. He’d been asking himself the same question even though, really, he knew the answer. The connection of their bodies loosened and with a whimper of discontent from Emma, Killian’s knot receded and he slipped from her body. The loss caused her to roll over underneath him until she was settled on her back and Killian made sure she still felt secure by pinning her to the mattress with his weight. Emma wiggled from side to side with a salacious smile, making sure she could feel every inch of him pressing her down.

“I’ve got you,” Killian assured her again, kissing the tip of her nose. Emma’s hands found his face, pulling his lips to hers until he chuckled like a teenager in love and was forced to break the kiss to breathe.

“Why didn’t our tie last as long as when I was just a Beta?” Emma’s face was serious again, flashes of worry sparking in her eyes.

“So many questions!” Killian teased, bopping the tip of her nose with his pointer finger.

“I’m sorry,” Emma offered. “My mind is just racing.”

She blew out a breath on a sigh and without prompt, Killian knew exactly what would help her; a cuddle where she would feel safe and warm and loved. He pushed himself to his knees and the cold air of the room invaded the space between them, causing a visible shiver to ripple over Emma’s body. As quickly as he could, Killian urged her to the side, pulling back the thin sheet and slipping into the space in the center of the bed. Killian didn’t even need to offer Emma an invitation before she was curling up between his spread legs, resting her back to his chest and letting his arms encircle her once more.

“I know,” Killian offered sweetly. He kissed the curve of her shoulder before tucking his lightly scruffed chin into the crevice of her clavicle. “Might I suggest you write them down and once your heat and my rut are well out of the way, we can tackle them together?”

Emma nodded, interlocking her fingers with Killian’s and feeling a little more secure in her thoughts. She trusted him, and he was right; in a few days they would both be less distracted by each other and things would be much clearer.

“I’ll make us something to eat before we both starve, how does that sound?” Emma’s hum of agreement and the rumble of her stomach told them both Killian’s offer had arrived just in time.

“We have worked up quite the appetite,” Emma purred. She reached one arm behind her and looped it around the back of Killian’s head, urging his lips back to her skin for more of his addictive kisses.

“I don’t mean to brag, but I’m quite the cook,” Killian muttered into her neck.

“I’d like to be the judge of that,” Emma mocked sarcastically but as Killian continued his kisses a rather distracting tingle crept up her spine. “Maybe after a little more snuggling.”

Killian tightened his grip around her and his kisses drifted up the side of her face, his lips pausing on the corner of her bruised eye with a jaw clenching rage. He hadn’t forgotten how she had arrived at his place, and he wasn’t sure he would for a while, but in the past, every mention of her husband had caused Emma to close up or retreat, and that was the last thing he wanted for here right now.

Eager hands caressed her skin, massaging out kinks here and there that might have arisen from his eagerness to give her what she wanted. Killian wanted to make sure that Emma understood that being an Omega that an Alpha loved, looked at as more than a piece of meat to sate his own needs, was something to be treasured. It was something he knew she would never get from being a Humbert, a family renowned for its ruthless business exploits that nearly always spilled over into their private lives.

The window opposite the bed suddenly lit up with a dark orange glow as the sun began to rise over the horizon and began to bath the room in its light. Emma felt it on her toes first, the silent sun creeping up over the mattress and turning her skin a beautiful bronze as both she and Killian watched in comfortable silence, the sunlight inching its way up and over their bodies. When she shifted in his arms Killian let her, making sure she was comfortable again, shielding her most delicate parts with his hand and arms, shielding her skin from the sun.

“I’ve never seen a sunrise before,” Emma noted out loud, resting her head back on Killian’s shoulder.

“You haven’t?” Killian asked her, surprised. His words were slightly muffled between kisses he was still assaulting her body with, his lips soft and sparking all of her nerve endings to life each time.

“No,” Emma said with an idle smile. “It’s beautiful.” Almost lost in its marvel, she didn’t notice when Killian mumbled another question against her skin, only acknowledging him when he nudged her body playfully.

“I said,” he sing songed in response to her begrudged look. “Would you like to join me in the shower before breakfast? I think we both could use one.”

Emma pretended to sniff him and wrinkled her nose in mock disgust. “You definitely do,” she teased.

“Oi, cheeky!” Killian tightened his arms, muscles bulging against Emma’s and pinning her to him until she squealed a high pitched sound in his grip. He couldn’t really argue though, because neither of them had showered since she had arrived at his door, but both had been perspiring somewhat profusely since she had.

Emma let out a whine of protest when he moved out from behind her, never letting go of her hand as he stood beside the bed. He tugged her arm, pulling her closer to the edge and with a giggle, she rolled the distance between them across the soaking wet sheet. Killian’s eyes flicked over her naked form and he bit his bottom lip in appreciation as Emma scrambled to her knees and threw her arms around his neck, flattening her body against his. He felt her nipples hardened against his chest, his own body hair prickling to attention as she swayed her hips from side to side enticingly, deft fingers toying with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“No,” Killian scolded lightly, unable to hide his mirth because of his smirk. “Showers first,” he said softly, his mind thinking logically whilst his hands roamed the expanse of her lower back, fingertips teasing the swell of her behind with gentle kneading.

“Okay,” Emma agreed with a playful pout. Her whole body sagged and her hands slipped around his neck to his shoulders, her eyes fixed on them the entire time as they slid down the front of his thatched chest. A small whimper of longing slipped from her mouth and Killian laughed, not menacingly but in awe of her persistence. Unfortunately for her, he would need a little longer to recharge, so he hoped a quick kiss would distract her long enough for him to get her to the shower.

He leaned forward and closed the gap between them, his tongue finding the seam of her lips before pushing inside to massage her own. Goosebumps rippled over her skin and she smiled against his kiss, her fingers scratching down the contours of his chest with a content groan. His distraction worked and before Emma knew it, she was being hoisted into her arms and pulled tight against his chest, his heartbeat thumping in her ear. She let out a squeal, laughing in his arms as Killian carried her towards the doorway, the splintered edges of the frame inches from her skin as he tucked her in close and slipped through into the lounge.

His bathroom was to the left and he made short work of that door, using the heel of his foot to kick it open. Delighted, Emma squirmed in his arms, desperate for him to hold her down, or against the wall, she wasn't really that fussy as long as his hands were on her and he was showing her exactly what it meant to be loved by an Alpha, but it would have to wait. Killian reached the shower cubicle and Emma gave him a teasing smirk mid laugh.

“Better not kick that one down,” she giggled.

Killian growled a little, wrenching the door open and stepping inside, setting Emma down on the cold base and instantly missing the heat from her body against his. Emma barely had time to protest before he reached for the knob and the sound of water rushing through pipes filled her ears. She squeezed her eyes shut, dreading the chill from the spray that was inevitable, but it never came, and as the sound of water pooled at their feet, Emma peeled her eyes open to see Killian had positioned himself between her and the icy cold initial blast. His hands found her skin once more, skimming up the length of her arms protectively and when she met his gaze again, he was smiling at her.

“I’m here to take care of you, Emma,” he told her firmly but without an ounce of anything but love. “Will you let me do that?”

Steam began to swirl around them, the water clearly heating up, droplets running over the curve of his shoulders and beginning to dampen his front. Emma watched him, the corner of his lips ticking up into a small smile of assurance as he stepped aside and the flow of water hit her chest, stealing her breath and making her suck in a huge breath. Killian was suddenly behind her now, planting wet kisses along her collarbone and pressing his chest to her back, grounding her where she stood.

“Relax,” he whispered into her ear, nuzzling the flesh there with his nose.

Like he was controlling her just with the tone of his voice, Emma obeyed, letting the weight of her rest against the broadness of his chest. Suddenly his hands were on her, wide sweeps on his palms leaving bubbles in their wake as he lathered her body with soap. It was manly, like wood spice and bergamot, and Emma’s senses became overloaded with the smell that was so inherently Killian, her body ached for more of it. She spun around in his arms, hands clutching his face, pulling his lips to hers for another kiss, only this time the languid massaging of tongues made way for hungry gasps and the feverish biting of lips.

Killian hissed, pulling back slightly but Emma had a firm hold on his bottom lip, sucking the flesh until it stung with the pulsating of a bruise. She wasn’t letting go and when he opened his eyes in shock, the mischievous look she gave him made all the blood rush to his cock. Emma let go of his lip then, peeking down between their bodies at his length bobbing proudly against his stomach before giving him a sultry look through her eyelashes. Killian’s tongue darted out to taste his lip, no coppery tang to be found, before crowding her space and forcing her back against the cold, tiled wall. Emma gasped loudly from the chill, her heart taking off in her chest and her blood thundering in her ears in time with the pressured spray of the shower.

“You’re very insistent, Omega,” Killian growled, his forehead pushing against hers and his hands steadying her hips. He tasted his lip again, a feral growl rumbling from his chest. “And naughty.”

“I’m sorry, did I hurt you?” Emma looked up, meeting the darkness in his eyes with a carnal look of her own. He didn’t respond but she watched the tick of his jawline. “Let me kiss it better,” she purred, stroking the side of his face before crushing her lips to his once more.

Killian pushed back against her with a groan, hands grabbing the slippery globes of her arse and hoisting her into the air with an effortless strength that made the apex of Emma’s thighs hot and wet far more than from the water. She wrapped her legs around his waist, the shower spray beating down on the pair of them, his rock hard cock straining to find her entrance between them as she ground herself against his pubic bone and kissed him like he was her last meal.

Killian could smell her slick all over him, the water not dulling her one bit. The smell of her sweetness was back, coating his body as she hurriedly chased her insatiable appetite for him and her orgasm, teeth clashing with an urgency he thought they had left in the bedroom. He should have known better. Emma was a new Omega, experiencing all the world had to offer for the very first time, and at the very top of her buffet list was him.

“I need you again,” Emma begged between kisses, her body much hotter than the steam in the room. “Right here, right now.”

“So needy,” Killian mumbled with a smirk. He fumbled between them with a shaky hand, slipping his fingers between her folds just long enough to excite more slick from her, his eyes fluttering closed with sheer delight.

Emma loosened her vice like grip with her thighs and slipped down his wet body a little more. He gasped when she impaled herself on him with a satisfying arch of her back and a skin breaking scratch down his chest. Killian hissed again when the still hot water poured over his wound and the beast inside of him awoke, snatching her hands from his skin and slamming them into the tile above her head. The darkness in his eyes flashed with a feral spark, his cock throbbing inside of her, stretching the very essence of her wide open, and his knot aching in its sheath to press deeper into her.

“Yes,” Emma hissed, a pink hue spreading out over her breasts that heaved between their bodies. She began to move all by herself, riding him, rocking back and forth between what little space he had left between their bodies, taking her own pleasure in the steam filled cubicle. Killian let her, grinding his teeth with each forced thrust she made. “Oh, you feel so good, Alpha.”

Eager for her to feel every inch as sated as she could, Killian dipped his head with an open mouth and latched onto one of her nipples. He sucked slowly at first, savouring the taste of her, the heady scent generated between them as she balanced herself with a firm grip on his shoulders.

“Take it, love,” he growled, pulling the bud between his teeth and biting down. “Take my cock because you’d better believe that my knot is next.”

Emma whimpered, a cross between pleasure and pain, her head leaving the tile pillow to watch his assault of her tingling nipple. She arched her chest out more, desperate for his mouth on her but Killian released her breast with a pop, tongue laving her bullet like nipple one last time before his mouth jumped to hers, and he was gobbling up her ravenous moans again. She was like a fuel that had been poured onto the flash fire that burned inside of him so hot he thought his bones would melt right off his skin, and he needed every drop he could get.

Emma’s hands were on his face, nails raking through his stubble as she locked her ankles at the base of his spine, rolling her hips down onto him in an attempt to coax out his inner animal. With Killian early into his rut it wasn’t hard, and the sides of her smile pulled up into a smirk when he released his hold on her wrists, and, supporting her back with a wide, splayed hand, spun her around and under the spray. She cried out, her screech turning to a delightful laugh as Killian relented on his teasing and moved her out from under the cooling spray.

“Are you going to be a good Omega now?” Killian teased, rising up onto the ball of his feet and making sure she could feel him hot and hard inside of her.

“Yes,” Emma gasped. She ran her hands over Killian’s forehead, pushing his water flattened hair away from his face and grabbing a fistful of it with shaky hands.

“Are you sure?” Killian ground out, watching the minute muscle movements across her face as he rolled his hips into her again.

Emma bit her bottom lip and nodded feebly. “Yes, Alpha.”

“You won’t get my knot if you don’t,” Killian lied casually, smirking devilishly.

“No, please!” Emma whined, tightening her grip on him even more. The heels of her feet dug into his spine but he ignored the pain that ripped through him back because it pulled him impossibly deeper inside of her. “I promise, just please fuck me.” Her words were so quiet but Killian heard them as clear as day over the sound of the shower.

“Not here,�� Killian said gruffly and when he reached to turn the water flow off, the realisation of his words sunk in.

Her heart dropped. She was so close to taking his knot she could practically feel it stretching her entrance, giving her what would naturally come next, but Killian had ripped it away with two little words. The look she gave him was one of pure betrayal and just when she was about to protest his actions and remind him of his promise, he was pushing open the cubicle door and the cold air was slamming into her like a freight train.

Sure footed steps carried them out of the bathroom, still intimately connected, his cock pulsing inside of her with as much protest for the pause as the Omega in his arms. Killian barged furniture right out of the way as he navigated the lounge, eyes closed and lips of her skin, promising her with more than words that she would get what she desired. He licked at her neck, her scent gland spiking and tempting him once more, a haze making his head spin with how hard he was fighting her body’s invitation, and almost causing both of them to topple over.

He dug his fingernails into the flesh of her behind, holding her to him, making sure she couldn’t get away from him even if she wanted to. Her slick made him falter a few times as he fought to keep himself seated inside her where her muscles massaged his length in just the right way, but eventually, he made it across the expanse of the apartment and with an echoing thump, slammed Emma into the freezing pane of glass that overlooked the city lights below. Skin still wet, she slipped across the pane, her skin instantly pulling tight with the shock of the sudden contact, her core clenching around his cock.

“Oh, love,” Killian gasped into her shoulder, her unexpected muscle spasm forcing him to hold her aloft with one hand whilst he pounded a flat palm into the tinted glass beside her head.

“You like that, Alpha?” Emma smiled salaciously and clenched around him again. She watched the muscle in his jaw tick with pride and when he lifted his head, roused by her fingers threading through his wet, jet black locks, not even the sunlight could chase away the feral twilight in his eyes. Emma grinned, knowing the answer immediately.

Killian tore her from the surface of the window and Emma yelped. He was more forceful than he had ever been with her before and she enjoyed it, revelled in it, wanted him to hold her down and fuck her into next week, so when he spun them around and dropped to his knees, holding her to him so she felt secure, Emma let out a purr of delight. Killian’s cock slipped out of her and she whined at the loss but his smirk told her that it wouldn’t be for long. He positioned her on a soft fireside rug that she hadn’t noticed when she arrived yesterday evening, the fibres soft like silky fur caressing the skin of her back. Emma welcomed Killian back between her thighs, practically pouting at him when he towered over her again, a slight apology in his eyes for the roughness of their shower departure.

“Are you ready for my knot now, Omega? Killian growled, thrusting himself back into her and enjoying the fresh wave of slick her body graced him with as she stiffened beneath him. He brushed his hand over her brow as she nodded, wiping the wet hair out of her face and watching her face contort with pleasure that he knew only he could give her. “Because, love, if you aren’t going to get it.”

“Fuck, yes,” Emma hissed.

She hitched up her knees, aided by a push from Killian. She needed more of him, every inch in every direction, stretching her to the limits of her pleasure. His head in the crook of her neck made her shiver and when he bit down on the round edge of her shoulder, teeth scraping her flesh with just a tad of hesitation, her nails dug into the flesh of his back, marking a new line parallel to his spine. It made him grunt, his hips rutting her into the floor, the rug offering very little cushioning for his amorous thrusts, but she loved it.

The rug was soaked, her body reacting to him with every cant or roll of his hips. One of his hands found the curve of her hip, holding her still, taking his own pleasure must faster now that the soft whimpers coming from her mouth had turned in the breathless screams. Her name and his title fell from her lips over and over, spurring him on, and with one final push, his knot slipped inside of her and tied them together, his rut and her heat colliding in the most beautiful eruption of colour behind both their eyes.

Killian clenched his jaw so tightly as he came, sending wave after wave of come deep inside of her, not a second thought as to any of the consequences. As far as he was concerned, in that moment, with or without the mark of him on her neck, she was his. His.

“Mine,” he panted, nudging his nose into the side of her face.

In the hazy aftermath of her orgasm, Killian felt all of Emma’s aches and heat related pains fade away. She was happy, really happy, and the smile on her face was the unlike one he had ever seen before; and he’d done that. She was radiant and he couldn’t think of a thing he wouldn’t do for her. She meant everything and as her heavy eyelids fluttered open and she looked up at him with the green eyes he had fallen in love with so hard, he couldn’t help but smile back.

“Emma, I-,” he began but she cut him off, her hands on each side of his face and her words making his stomach fall away into oblivion whilst simultaneously swelling his heart like a balloon.

“I love you too.”

#the contract #cs fic #cs au #A/B/O #A/B/O dynamics #alpha!killian #rated: E #this chapter is just straight up fucking and i am not sorry

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dannymayevent · 4 years

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Oh, but I’m clearly destined to wander

Congratulations, @wholocksupersoupofpain, for completing all 31 days of Dannymay 2020!

Phic written by @bibliophilea for your Day 15 artwork - Favorite AU - because Space AU is such a phantastic AU, and what you did for it was inspiring.

Phic can also be found on ao3 and ffn.

Title from "Beautiful Times" by Owl City.

*~*~*

Dani dances.

She twirls and weaves, her long, braided hair following her every movement, her longer blue scarf flowing around her, floating gracefully in the vacuum of space.

There is a freedom in her dance that cannot be expressed with words. But there is also yearning - in the way she darts from one point in space to another, like a butterfly untethered by anything but its own whims - whims which pull her too and fro, restless in her longing for something new and exciting in the vast beyond.

Valerie watches from the airlock, helmet in hand, enchanted as she always is when she watches her lover dance. She notes the subtle desperation in the tension in Dani’s back - the longing in the way her legs smoothly launch her from nothing to nothing, in the way her arms point to stars and galaxies far, far away - and she smiles softly, sadly. She'll be leaving soon now.

Dani turns to the airlock, and waves excitedly at Valerie, waves at her to come join her in this dance. Valerie is quick to hide her sadness, and she puts on her helmet, locking it in place before venting the airlock.

She twists open the lock and pushes the door open, joining Dani in the great beyond, the vastness that is space.

*~*~*

Dani dances.

Her giggles echo in the small living space of the spacecraft, the only home she’s ever known. She spins and spins, bumping into the walls and the ceiling and the floor before she trips and flips into her father’s lap.

"Careful, my little comet," her father says, their secret language humming and clicking in her ears. He smiles fondly down at her, and she giggles, floating up to give him a kiss on his forehead.

"Yes, papa!" she dutifully answers, before darting away, her giggles and her long, blue scarf trailing in her wake as she spins and spins again, doing her best to emulate the graceful twirls of the woman in the flickering holovid.

The woman smiles at no one as she flickers, and she speaks in their secret language, voice soft and gentle, yet commanding attention.

"When we spin, we spin with our core, the same way our home spins - the core of our planet pulling the surface with it, pulling us all with it into a celestial dance which guides us in our journey through the universe."

Dani stops spinning to listen, attention rapt upon the woman, before smiling widely and spinning again. She doesn’t see the way her father’s smile cracks, the way his eyes shine with tears before he wipes them away.

She does notice when he floats to the center of the room and pauses the holovid, staring at the flickering image of the woman. Her smile is radiant, deep black hair floating mid-twirl, eyes shining with joy. Dani’s father stares into her eyes.

"It’s time to say goodnight to mama," he tells Dani. Dani looks between the holovid and her father’s eyes, wrinkled in sadness even as he smiles gently. She nods quietly, and floats up to the woman’s face, and kisses her on the forehead. The flickering image tingles her lips.

"Goodnight, mama," she says, before turning to her father and hugging him hard.

"I love you, papa," she says in their secret language.

Her father huffs in surprise, before wrapping his arms around her, burying his face in her hair.

"I love you, too, my little comet."

*~*~*

Dani dances.

She twirls and weaves through the club, almost floating effortlessly between people as she dances, flitting between dance partners like a bee collecting pollen from one set of flowers before flying to the next. The white highlights in her skin tight jumpsuit and her loosely braided hair shine in the ever changing lights of the dance hall - purple, then red, then blue, then green flashing and fading into each other in time with the music. The black in her hair reflects the lights above her, but not as brightly; the black in her suit is nearly invisible in the throng of bodies and low light, hiding the motions of her lower legs and lower arms as she dances through the crowd - hiding her hands as they filter through the pockets of dancers, picking out wallets and coins and credits before stashing them in one of the many hidden pockets in her suit.

She glances at the bar for the fifth time in as many minutes, and this time makes herself hold eye contact with the beautiful woman staring at her. The woman’s red jumpsuit seems to change color in the low, changing light, and the black, reflective highlights accentuate the curves of her muscles and body. Her dark, curly hair is cropped short, geometric designs buzzed along the sides of her head. But what captivates Dani the most are her eyes. They are bright green - almost as green as Dani’s own eyes - and though they’re hard now, they shine with a life Dani can’t help but drink in, can’t help but want to explore.

She dances over to the bar and props herself up against it, smiling a winning smile at the woman in red.

"Can I buy you a drink?" Dani asks sweetly.

"Only if you can tell me whose credits you’re using," the woman replies, raising an eyebrow.

Dani doesn’t miss a beat. "Phillip McCarthy. I’m sure he won’t miss it."

The woman’s other eyebrow raises to join the first. The McCarthy’s are notorious for their smuggling operations in this sector of the galaxy - anything from drugs to artifacts to people. If it sells, chances are the McCarthy’s have a say in where it goes. Phillip in particular is known for his ruthlessness. Heir to the smuggling kingdom and drunk on his mother’s wealth and power, he goes where he wants and brings the party with him. Few who cross him live to tell the tale; the rest speak only to the coroners, and only speak of terrible, painful death.

The woman glances to the dance floor, where McCarthy drunkenly grinds and bellows to the music in the spotlight, surrounded by his posse - pilot fish seeking out a taste of that spotlight, that wealth, that power. She seems to make a decision, and her eyes soften as she lets out a low whistle, cracking a smile. "Ballsy. I’ll drink to that."

Dani lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, and can’t help but grin. She waves down a bartender. "Two fireflies. On me."

She scans the credits, then turns back to find the woman staring at her. She notes the blush in her cheeks, and her grin turns sly. "Like what you see?"

The woman sputters. "W-what? No, no way, um, not that you’re not gorgeous or anything, I just - I didn’t come here for - look, can I get a name from the beautiful woman who just bought me a drink?"

Dani laughs, and feels her own cheeks blush green. Who knew a woman with such a confident stare could be so cute?

"It’s Dani," she chuckles. "And what can I say, I see a beautiful woman staring at me, how can I not buy her a drink?"

The woman frowns. She opens her mouth to retort, but a purple arm comes between them, hand adorned with expensive rings pressed against the bar. Dani looks up and sees Phillip McCarthy doing his best to loom over them despite his swaying stature. More intimidating is his posse - all in varying stages of drunkenness, but none as drunk as McCarthy, and there are a lot of them.

McCarthy squints his eyes at Dani. "You stole from me." Then he smirks. "But you’re new around here, aren’t you? Tell you what - I’ll let it slide if you do a little dance with me." He leans in close, and Dani wrinkles her nose at the stink of liquor on his breath. "I’ll show you what a real McCarthy can do for you."

"No thanks." Dani puts a hand on his chest and pushes him away. He stumbles back, surprised by her strength. Then he growls, stepping back towards her.

"Hey bitch, do you know who I am? I could make your life a living hell - you stole from me." He forces his face into a smile. "But I’m a nice guy. I can be forgiving. I’ll give you one last chance to do the right thing."

McCarthy grabs Dani’s arm, and Dani glares. Who is he to touch her like that? Before she can act, the woman in red grabs the hand that grabbed her, just above the wrist.

"Let her be, McCarthy. She was just about to return those credits. Right?" the woman side-eyes Dani hard. Dani rolls her eyes and pulls the credits from a secret pocket with her free hand, flicking them at McCarthy.

McCarthy‘s face sours. The credits bounce off his chest, and one of his posse picks them up. "Stay out of this, Gray," he snarls. "This is about respect. And I’m gonna teach her a lesson."

His hand tightens painfully on Dani’s arm, and Dani hisses. She feels the woman - Gray - tense beside her. Gray peels the hand from Dani’s arm and twists, earning a squawk from McCarthy, before shoving him back into his posse.

"I said, let her be." Gray growls.

McCarthy’s face twists in drunken rage, and he rounds on Gray. "How dare you-"

Dani kicks him in the throat, and he chokes, eyes wide with surprise, crumpling backwards to the floor.

Shit. She didn’t mean to kick him that hard - just hard enough to get him to shut up and back off from Gray. She stares wide-eyed at his crumpled form, barely able to hear Gray’s voice over the pulsing of her core in tune with her heart. He’s gotta be alright - she doesn’t know what she’ll do if she did any permanent damage, or worse, killed him-

McCarthy coughs harshly and works himself to his elbows. He stares up at his posse. They stare back. Then he flushes bright pink and points, croaking, "Get them."

Gray springs into action, fighting down the part of the posse closest to the door. They’ll never make it that way - not with more of the posse gathering by the door, ready to catch them should they make it past the first wave. Four of them turn on Dani, and she leaps into action, sweeping her foot out and spinning, knocking them away from her and clearing a path to the dance floor. She grabs Gray’s wrist, startling the woman.

"This way!" Dani shouts, and pulls Gray into the crowd.

Gray pulls against Dani’s grip. "There’s no exit that way!"

Dani pauses for a second, locking eyes with Gray. She smiles confidently. "Trust me."

Gray holds her gaze, then grins and nods. She twists her wrist and suddenly they’re holding hands, Gray a half-step behind Dani as they navigate the crowd together - Dani twirling and dancing between dancers and posse alike, Valerie twirling with her and taking down McCarthy’s people as they flee. They operate in sync, as if they’ve known each other for longer than five minutes, and Dani revels in the feeling. This is better than dancing on her own, better than dancing with a throng of bodies in time to the music - this is the most alive she’s ever felt.

The crowd thins, and she guides Gray to the back of the warehouse, dodging security. The back wall is lined with small windows 20 feet above the floor. They should be closed, but Dani knows for sure that one of them is open to the night air. As they approach the wall, she grins at Gray and lets go of her hand, putting on a burst of speed to reach it first. She kneels below the open window, holding out her hands to give Gray a boost.

Gray smiles at the move, kicking off of one of McCarthy’s men and using the forward momentum to sprint to Dani. She leaps into Dani’s hands, and Dani throws her into the air, sending her soaring to the window. Gray grabs the window sill and pulls herself effortlessly through, out into the night.

Dani grins and stands, surveying the mix of McCarthy’s posse and club security running towards her. McCarthy himself has somehow made it to the front of the posse, and he stops and snarls upon seeing her. She grins cheekily and waves, making a show of jumping up to the window - not many people fly in this sector of the galaxy, she’s learned. She hears McCarthy screech some sort of profanity, and something about his mother, as she pulls herself through, dropping to the next roof and picking up her backpack in a single, graceful movement. She takes a moment to look upwards, at the night sky.

The sky is only partially covered by clouds, a dark expanse faintly speckled with unfamiliar constellations where the clouds don’t touch. The light pollution from the surrounding city drowns out most of the black and stars, but she can just see Wolf 359 peaking out from behind a cloud. She smiles. Maybe she’ll head there next.

"You gonna stand there all night?"

Dani starts and turns to see Gray, eyebrow raised, but hand held out towards her. She blushes and grins, stepping forward to take her hand. This time, Gray leads, guiding Dani off the roof and through the streets and alleyways, away from the club and into the darkness.

They only stop for breath when they’re sure they aren’t followed. It’s then that Gray lets go of Dani’s hand, walking along a street and staring at the ground. Dani’s about to ask what she’s looking for when she suddenly stands up straight, turning back to Dani, hand outstretched.

"Hand over the credits," Gray demands.

"What? No!" Dani scoffs. "That’s like, half my haul!"

Gray rolls her eyes. "You can keep the rest. I don’t know where you’re from, but around here, credits are traceable."

Dani sighs, but does as she’s told. Gray shoves the credits down the sewer grate next to her. So that’s what she was looking for.

"The sewer flows downriver," she says. "You should head in the opposite direction, towards the space port." She points a thumb behind her, down the alleyway. "That’s where you’re headed, right?"

Dani gapes at her. "How did you-"

Gray raises an eyebrow. "It’s like McCarthy said - you’re not from around here. And you’ll need to get off planet now that you’ve pissed off Mr. High and Mighty."

Dani winces. "Sorry about that, Gray. But what about you?"

Gray smirks. "I can handle him. I’ve been doing it for years. Oh, and the names Valerie. It’s what my friends call me."

"Valerie." Dani tests the name out on her tongue. It feels right. She beams up at Gray - no, Valerie - and then bounces up to her. She caresses Valerie’s cheek with one hand, and kisses her chastely on the corner of her lip.

"Thank you, Valerie," she whispers in her ear.

And then she bounds away, dancing through streets and alleyways, climbing to the rooftops, almost flying as she careens upriver, towards the space port.

*~*~*

Dani dances.

Valerie dances.

They meet again, multiple times in both of their travels. And they dance.

And they dance.

*~*~*

Valerie dances.

She pushes off from the airlock, gliding into her lover’s arms. Together they twirl in the vastness of space, the stars and ship revolving around them, but they only have eyes for each other. Then Dani smiles, and kisses the top of Valerie’s helmet, and spins away from Valerie.

Valerie’s suit stabilizes her spinning with a thought, and she spins more slowly now, tracking Dani as she twirls through space, with Valerie at the center - Valerie at her center. She doesn’t know how, or why, but she’s managed to capture the most beautiful comet in the world. She is somehow the force which pulls Dani from shooting aimlessly through space - the star about which Dani orbits. Valerie is Dani’s star, and Dani is Valerie’s comet. Wherever their paths may lead, whichever outer reaches of space Dani flings herself to, Valerie knows that she will always, always come back to her.

Dani comes in for a hug, and they spin together, staring into each other’s eyes, naught but plexiglass and atmosphere and the vacuum of space between them. No one but themselves for hundreds of miles.

"I love you, my comet," Valerie says in Dani’s secret language.

Dani’s smile widens, and her eyes shine with the light of a home she’s never known - a home she chooses to make herself, with Valerie at her center.

"I love you too, my star."

#danny phantom #dannymay2020 #fanfiction #prize

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stereogeekspodcast · 3 years

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[Transcript] Season 2, Episode 3. Best Picture Nominations - Academy Awards 2021

It's awards season in Hollywood! In the first of our two-part series on the Academy Awards 2021, the Stereo Geeks team review the Best Picture nominations, make some predictions, and share some harsh truths about which films don't deserve their nominations. Do you agree with our picks?

Photo by Engin Akyurt from Pexels

Listen to the episode on Anchor.

[Continuum by Audionautix plays]

Ron: Welcome to a new Stereo Geeks Special! This week, we’re previewing the Academy Awards 2021. I’m Ron.

Mon: And I’m Mon.

Ron: Let's jump into it. Best Picture. And the nominees are The Father. Judah and the Black Messiah. Mank. Minari. Nomadland. Promising Young Woman. Sound of Metal. The Trial of the Chicago Seven. That's quite an interesting list. Mon: It's probably the most diverse and varied that we've had at the Oscars in a while. One could argue that it's probably down to the fact that in 2020, a lot of films weren't able to be released, they weren't produced, and it's given us a different flavor. But I don't know how to feel about it. Ron: I feel like some of the films on this list don't belong here. I know that sounds harsh, but the quality is so varied. Mon: I agree. Ron: And that's kind of how I'm feeling about all the nominees this year. I can't understand what the criteria was for the nominees. Mon: I think it's based on who campaigned the hardest. But at least it's not as bad as the Golden Globes. That was a shocker.

Ron: Let's not even talk about that. You can definitely see that it's much more diverse, on the Oscars side, at least in terms of race, I guess. We still have very few female directors and writers and producers. The ratio is extremely unbalanced, but some how it's better this year than it was in previous years, so I guess we should be happy?

Mon: I guess we could say it's baby steps. Though, this is the 93rd Academy Award. So, wow, this is a very old baby. [laughs] But you know what, despite it all, I'm pleased to see that there's such a variety of storytelling, storytelling styles, and the kind of characters and actors who have been recognized this year. I really hope it's not just a case of, oh, we couldn't find anything else because there wasn't as much being put out there, and that we go back to square one next year. I really don't want that to be the case because we now have a taste of just how different it can be. The Academy has been trying, but it hasn't been trying hard enough. And that's very obvious with the Best Picture selections. Why are they there just eight? What happened to Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom? Why isn't that here? Or even One Night in Miami?

Ron: I have such a bone to pick with the Academy, about One Night in Miami because, why is that not here? And I had the same feeling about The White Tiger. I think those two films should have rounded off this category.

Mon: And when you will have the potential to reach ten, why do you keep stopping before that?

Ron: Then why have ten at all? So, we have a lot to say already and it's just the first category.

Mon: And we haven't even talked about the films yet! Ron: Okay, so let's just start off with my pick for this category, Judas and the Black Messiah. I think that's a lot of people’s pick, to be honest. This is a really well-put-together film. It's got tension. It's got these moments which break the tension. It has probably the best performances this year, amazing music, and a message that unfortunately is still resonant in 2021. I think this is the complete package.

Mon: Okay, so I'm not an 11 out of 10 with this movie, as much as you are. I do feel like it had an issue in the middle. And the issue was that we didn't have Daniel Kaluuya on screen.

Ron: Okay.

Mon: And I felt his absence, and I felt like the story felt his absence as well. The first act and the third act? Wonderful. The second act, definitely sagged for me, anyway. So it's probably not as accomplished as I hoped it to be.

Ron: Oh wow, that's not how I felt, at all. Yes, I feel like the second act could have done with more of Fred Hampton’s story, but LaKeith Stanfield’s performance is just so powerful that it had me invested throughout. And I actually kind of felt like there were times when I had to look away from the screen, because the intensity, not from the action, but from the emotion, was so powerful. I just couldn't keep watching it.

Mon: No, I agree with you. LaKeith Stanfield is outstanding and at times I felt like he was even better than Kaluuya, which is saying something because Daniel Kaluuya’s performance is such a scene stealer. But I think, for me, in the middle, after we had these instances of meeting the rest of the Black Panthers, and there are these side characters, especially the one played by Algee Smith, I just felt like we needed more. We needed to build these characters up more because whatever happens to these characters, you definitely feel the impact.

And these are real people, they’re fictionalized versions of these real people. And you definitely feel that tension, the suspense, the fear, the injustice of it all. But had the film structured it so that we could have spent a little bit more time with the side characters more, maybe I wouldn’t have felt Kaluuya’s absence that much in the second part.

It just felt like they were trying to fill that hole with the side characters. Well, those people are just as important, and have just as compelling stories, but we just don't get to see it on screen.

Ron: You know what, that's why we have these conversations because I quite liked the kind of time that we spent with the other characters. I felt like it fleshed out the entire Black Panther movement, what was happening at that time, and it set up the third act for me because we took that time away from Fred Hampton, and we spent it with these people who are kind of struggling without him. They have a mission, they know what they want to do, but they don't have a leader, they’re kind of living off his letters, and it's difficult because you basically don't have a head, the rest of your body's trying to figure out what to do. I thought that that actually worked quite well, and it gave the third act that much more gravitas. But as a whole I think this film was really good. And that's why it's definitely our top pick. That final scene, though?

Mon: Yeah. And the way it's shot? It's not shot in this gratuitous fashion, which you know, most other films, most other directors would have gone down that route. It's so emotionally powerful. And I was listening to the NPR PCHH podcast, and they mentioned that a lot of this story is based off of the recollections of Fred Hampton’s wife, which explains the viewpoint that we see in the last scene.

I'll just point out one more criticism, and it's easier to criticize a film which is very good and which you like a lot, because you will always see the niggling points that could have been better. And I think this, whatever we’re saying about it, is more a testament of how good this movie is, rather than how bad it is. Okay, so this is just my last criticism.

The two actors playing the leads, which is LaKeith Stanfield and Daniel Kaluuya, they are so much older than the characters that they're playing. And I think when you realize just how young these boys were when these events took place, it makes you perceive the actions of these characters in a very different way. A 17-year-old making the decisions that this “Judas” was making is very different from a 29-year-old. And the power of a 21-year-old Fred Hampton, as opposed to the very powerful presence of the 30-odd year-old Daniel Kaluuya, is completely different. So, I wonder how this film would have been perceived had they chosen actors who were age appropriate.

Ron: That's a really good point. I was shocked at the end when the title card came up, and it said Fred Hampton was actually killed when he was 21. Oh my gosh. Like, he managed to accomplish a lot in such a short time. But his nemesis was a child, and very easily manipulated. I understand where you're coming from with that. I think the movie still has a lot of strengths, despite the inaccuracies with the ages. But yeah, I feel like that would have been putting a lot on young actors. I'm sure there are some young actors who could definitely pull this off, but for that length of time, like the entire film really, it's a lot.

Mon: And it's probably not a burden we need to put on young actors.

Ron: Exactly. But yeah, our pick for this category is definitely Judas and the Black Messiah. Now let's talk about the others.

Mon: Okay. Shall we get the stuff that we didn't like out of the way and then talk about what we did?

Ron: Okay. So, let's talk about the Trial of the Chicago Seven, because that kind of happens at the same time as Judas and the Black Messiah.

Mon: In fact, there is a tiny cameo by an actor playing Fred Hampton.

Ron: Exactly. I don't know why this movie is here.

Mon: Yeah, me neither.

Ron: So, that's a good start.

Mon: Let me put it this way, with a story like this, which, again, it is a real, true life story about a very, very difficult time for all the people involved, and you make it into this slick, witty, repartee-fest. It just doesn't work. Because this story, irrespective of how jocular or irreverent the actual events were, there was emotional heft that these people were feeling. This movie is a joke. And it made be very angry to watch this film because it treated events at the superficial level. If I need to replay all those things, then I’ll just read about it. But to be with these characters in the room, in the courtroom, to suffer with them. We needed that emotional impact of what they're doing. We don't get that. We don't get that from the first scene, and it continues in the same way, and it just made me angrier with every scene. Ron: I feel like any movie that, once you watch it, you have to do like a ton of research to understand why or how things are accurate or inaccurate. That's not a good film. It's the same problem that we've had with a lot of blockbusters over the years. If you have to tell us why this scene was included, or what dialogue you didn't include in a Star Wars film or a Marvel film, then you haven't done your job. And this movie, we had to do a ton of research afterwards.

Mon: And there's one thing to be said about the fact that you watch something or you read something and it inspires you to find out more about these incredible people involved in the story. It's a completely different matter that you go in wondering, what is this? Is this actually a joke? Is he making fun of these people? And then you find out the real events, the real stories and how it impacted them, and you come away wondering, so this was a vanity fest? And there it is, nominated for Best Picture, as opposed to so many accomplished stories. I'm a little bit outraged.

Ron: If you compare this to One Night in Miami, which really was fictional, that movie made so many statements about the four people involved, and this movie didn't try to do that at all.

Mon: No, but after the fact, Sorkin kept on saying that he was making a film which was ‘of the time’.

Ron: Of what time?

Mon: Exactly. I think the problem with the fact that Aaron Sorkin created this film comes down to the fact that he has often, in his interviews, blatantly been aware of how ignorant he is, and then doubled down on it. And it seems like this film just continues in the same vein. Yeah, you might chuckle during some of the scenes, but then, where is that impact? Where is that emotion? The performances are so good. They're all good. I mean, even Eddie Redmayne is good, and that’s saying something because he's always Eddie Redmayne. But like, I need to feel something. And he throws in this scene where this person is saying that he's basically putting his life on the line for the cause that he believes in. And I’m like, it just feels like a line, irrespective of what the real person did. That to me is not a good film.

Ron: This felt like a movie.

Mon: [laughs] Yeah.

Ron: Judas and the Black Messiah felt like a story. This felt like a movie. I think one of my biggest problems is I don't like Aaron Sorkin’s writing. I don't like his style. It’s very particularly him. It’s very manufactured. People talking over each other; people bantering all the time. It feels so fake. And it kept taking me out of this movie over and over again. And it brings me back to the same point: what is the criteria for these films to get nominated?

Mon: Films like this getting nominated just to remind you that marketing is very powerful.

Ron: Absolutely. Because there's no way that this is of the quality that some of the other films on this, just this Best Picture list are.

Mon: I agree with you. And the problem is that when I finally got around to watching this film, I had somewhat forgotten who the creator was. And then like a few scenes in I was like, this is Aaron Sorkin isn't it? [laughs] And then I went and checked, and I found it out, and then I was like, you know what, maybe my internal biases are making me hate this film, but it’s not true.

Ron: I didn't know Aaron Sorkin had created this. Mon: Oh?

Ron: And I was watching it and I was like, why is everything so weird? Why does the language of this film feel like a film? And then I saw who created it and I was like, oh, this makes so much sense now. Mon: And it upsets me because I feel like you can overcome some of your own prejudices, your own style and make something which is really powerful. But this film is not it.

Ron: This is definitely not winning anything, if it wins something, I will riot.

Mon: I really hope it doesn't win anything.

Ron: Okay. So, let's talk about Mank.

Mon: Well, we just talked about Aaron Sorkin, so we're gonna talk about his frequent collaborator, David Fincher.

Ron: Look, I understand that Mank has been a passion project for David Fincher. He has been working on it for years, and I'm very happy that he's managed to make this. Unfortunately, this is not a good film. Even by David Fincher’s standards. I'm not a Fincher fan, I’ll just say it now. Like Aaron Sorkin, Fincher has a very distinct style. Some of the stylistic elements are actually quite engaging.

Mon: I like Fincher’s Zodiac. I enjoyed that film a lot. But a lot of Fincher’s other stuff? No, thank you.

Ron: And I think my biggest problem with Fincher’s work is that he should not have anything to do with female characters. I just can't. I just can't with him.

Mon: It's actually funny that we're talking about these two films back-to-back, because there is a very distinct pattern in both these films which is that you have these waifish, nubile, coquettish women in both films. In Trial of the Chicago Seven, they literally make up a beautiful blonde detective just for the purpose of fiction. Ugh. And she has no characteristics aside from being somebody's love interest. And there's also one secretary who is outstandingly good looking, and I'm like, you can't get a normal looking person? And we have the same issue with Mank. Mank’s assistant is this extremely emaciated looking girl. His wife is this dead looking woman. Then there’s the very young Amanda Seyfried. And Mank is being played by Gary Oldman, who is a very good actor, but this role in this film just does justice to no one.

Ron: What bothered me so much was the difference in the ages of the characters versus the actors playing them. You have Gary Oldman playing Mank at a time when Mank was way younger than Oldman is now. But you have Seyfried, and you have Tuppence Middleton, who is pretty much the same age as Seyfried, playing Mank’s wife. And I'm just like, she looks like his granddaughter. And it's not even accurate to the actual characters! It was just so disorienting. And it took me completely out of the film.

This is again another film that felt like a film. The problem is a Hollywood loves movies about Hollywood, and that's what Mank is. It’s literally about the screenwriting process. So, I can see why people will love it. I just found that for me, the things that didn't work in this film, outweighed the very few things that did.

Mon: I struggled from the very start with the fact that it's in black and white. It echoes a lot of the cinematic techniques that Orson Welles used when creating Citizen Kane. At the same time, there is this polished veneer over the film that just doesn't work. There are ways to fuzzy it up a little bit with filters, or whatever. There are technical ways to do it, which makes it feel ‘of the time’. I really struggled with feeling any sense of place with this film. As you said, it felt like a film. It felt like an homage to filmmaking and screenwriting, but it fell flat on both, because we don't like any of these characters.

And this weird obsession with creating these fast-talking, beautiful women, who are there just to be observed and admired, but they don't have any personality. It was old when it started, it is supremely old in 2021.

Ron: I think this has been my problem with Fincher’s female characters for a very long time. They literally only exist for the male characters’ plotlines. They don't have any inner life, and I just don't understand how they keep making films like this over and over again, and they keep getting recognition. How's that possible? I feel like Mank has a chance, but it'll be silly.

Mon: I feel like it will be disappointing if Mank wins, but at the same time, it’s probably the frontrunner simply because the Academy loves film about films.

Ron: So, let's move on to The Father. Why is this movie on this list?

Mon: Because it's cinematically brilliant.

Ron: So, this is yet another film on this list that feels like a film. The problem is The Father was based on a play. And this film feels very much like a film that's based on a play. Throughout the entire runtime I was like, this was a play, wasn't it?

Mon: I loved The Father, up until the last scene.

Ron: Interesting.

Mon: I loved how slick the cinematic techniques were. My problem is that the subject matter deserves far more heft, and a lot more nuance than direction like this can give it. And I was on board, I was seriously on board with this film for its entire runtime, until that last scene happened where I felt like Anthony Hopkins was really trying hard for that Oscar. I think that last scene was so melodramatic. It felt completely out of place from everything else that had happened before. We are not going to spoil what the subject matter is. But the way it plays out; it's suspenseful, it's tense, and it's a novel way of handling the subject matter. But again, there's no emotional core. And that's what disappointed me. Because the emotional core is brought in literally at the end. And that's when it fell flat. But I didn't hate it as much as you did, that's for sure. Ron: I’m really intrigued by this because I didn't like this movie at all.

Mon: Wow, really.

Ron: I liked what it was trying to do. I hated the slickness. Like you said, it didn't fit with the subject matter. It’s just that it took me out of it so completely, that it made me dislike the movie intensely. I was like, this is just the wrong treatment for this film. It's so bad. And it's so disrespectful. You're trying to tell people about something that is horrifying. That is something that people are living with, that people will be living with. It made me feel very angry.

Mon: And I'm completely on board with what you're saying, and I completely agree with you. I'm actually in two minds about it because as much as I hate the subject matter that they use to make this very slick film, I can't get over how brilliantly, cinematically technical it is.

Ron: Okay.

Mon: And that's probably what the Academy is seeing, which is why this film, of all films, is one of the nominations in the Best Picture category.

Ron: Wow, that's… I'm really surprised that we’ve had such different interpretations of this. I was kind of hoping that it would be a horror film, because it's treated that way. It kind of works as a horror film, but I just feel like it doesn't do justice to this extremely important, difficult topic. And I don't think it's correct. We'll come back to the performances later when we do talk about those. But I'm surprised that we had such different interpretations but it's interesting that we do.

Mon: No, I agree with you, but I can definitely see it from the Academy's point of view.

Ron: Okay.

Mon: But I'm worried that this film will win.

Ron: Oh no.

Mon: Because, you know what that does, right? It’ll just set a precedent and suddenly we'll see a spate of these with diminishing returns, and even less respect for subject matter. Well, let's see.

Ron: Yeah. Mon: Okay, so the biggest surprise for me is definitely Sound of Metal. Because I don't think a film like this in any other year would have got a shoo-in. Even for like, performance-wise, it may have been ignored in another year, but the film getting a Best Picture nom? Surprised. Supremely surprised. But very, very happy.

Ron: Me too. I have been hearing about this film for so long, and I was really surprised that the Academy actually looked at something that was kind of small, and said, yep, this deserves it.

Mon: What I like about Sound of Metal is that it's bold in its take on a subject matter which has been done to death in Hollywood, but it's done in a very respectful way. Which is funny because we just talked about The Father which is disrespectful to its subject matter. But here with Sound of Metal, I feel like it's the complete opposite. And I feel like it's been a long time coming.

So, the film was shot chronologically, and you can tell how that impacts the actual film and the characters, because you see an evolution of how they meet, and how they end up, and I really like that. It's hard to talk about this one because I think we all know the subject matter. But it's such a small contained personal story. It's a real surprise that it’s not doing anything huge and massive and cinematic. The performances aren't over the top and larger than life. It's just the little things. It's like the natural feeling of this film. And that's what’s got me really excited about it being on the nom’s list. Hopefully setting a precedent for these films which feel like they're of the earth and of the people. I hope we get to see more of them.

Ron: As far as I'm concerned, The Father should have done what Sound of Metal did. Pitting these two against each other, my choice would be Sound of Metal because it is right there with the characters. There's nothing flashy about it. I don't think films like this about people, families, your inner life, they don't need to be flashy. The Father doesn't work because of that. Sound of Metal works because it stays contained. It's one person, his journey, his realizations, his evolution as a person.

All of that through a simple lens, and I mean that not just from the storytelling angle, but from the camera point of view, because there's nothing slick about this film. You don't see that… you know that filter that films have that tell you that it's ‘a film’. No. You feel like you're there, in the middle of that stage, next to him, listening to the drums or you're there in that dining room with all these people, just signing to each other. You're there in the story throughout. And that's what I really, really loved about Sound of Metal.

If it wins, which I don't think it will, but if it does, that will be amazing. Because this is a really quiet, personal and impactful film. There aren’t grand messages here. It's just about people being people. And I think the Academy needs more films like this.

Mon: I also think that one of the boldest moves of this film is really to have this positive message at the end, which, for a story like this, when it comes to Hollywood, doesn't usually end with. And it's not a spoiler to say that's how the film ends. Riz Ahmed himself has been very, very vocal about the message of this film. And I think the whole package, it may not be as polished as The Father, or Mank, but you don't want it to be, because it will take you out of the film, it will take you out of being with this person, with these people. I'm so glad that it's getting this kind of recognition. It may have slipped a lot of people's radars, but now that it's on the noms list, hopefully a lot more people will see it and will open their mind to watching different kinds of film.

Ron: Yeah. Sound of Metal, it really didn't feel like a film. It felt like you were with these characters, and you were just experiencing life. And I think that's basically because the sound editing is probably the best.

Mon: It's phenomenal. I don't think the average viewer will notice a lot of the technical aspects of a lot of films, but it's hard to miss with Sound of Metal, which really utilizes the sounds beautifully throughout the film. And sound itself is a character in the film. Just for that, I think, okay, the technical award, yes, please give it to them. But also, just the use of it could be enough for it to get the Best Picture nod, who knows.

Ron: The thing is that the more I talk about it, the more I want this film to win, because it's just really good.

Mon: And the fact that they cast actors who are from the Deaf community, who do know ASL. The fact that they went out of their way to make sure that their lead actor knows ASL. He's not the only one who is going around talking to people, when everybody around him is Deaf. They really put a lot of thought into making this feel as natural, as real, as possible. And I think that's the beauty of this, it feels real.

Ron: Absolutely.

Mon: And we could go on about some of the nuances that they include, which makes it even more natural, but we'll let you enjoy that.

Ron: Yeah, definitely. This is one of the most immersive films this year, and you should definitely check it out. So, Minari. I’m going to put it out there that I don't think this film will win because Parasite won last year, and oh my god no. The Academy can't do that.

Mon: You have to read two films in a row? [laughs] Considering the amount of controversy surrounding this film, for no reason. Because the Golden Globes decided that it was only a foreign film, even though the majority of it is shot in America, with American actors and producers. I'm glad the Academy put it in Best Picture.

Ron: Because that's where it deserves to be. I mean, what were the Golden Globes thinking? Mon: This is a very American film.

Ron: Yes!

Mon: I understand that they’re talking in a different language, and they’re eating different food, and the characters don't look “American”. But this is an American film. This is the American dream.

Ron: This is exactly what a lot of Americans have lived through. But the thing is that it's about American immigrants and way too many people apparently think that that's not American. Okay, so tirade aside. This is such a beautiful film. Again, like Sound of Metal, I just felt so immersed in it from the moment it began. The thing is that with family films, you don't have to have these huge events. It can be these little moments that keep adding up, and they make you think, okay, my family has their issues, I can get through it, or my family is really great, but these little issues are becoming too much. And Minari, is all about that. It's about this family coming together under very weird circumstances that some of them have got them into.

Mon: And it's really about the four of them, and then the five of them, coping with this unfulfilled, unrequited dream, and trying to fit in. But it doesn't require any of those cliches, any of those tropes, any of those stereotypes to actually take that story forward, to actually make these characters grow and evolve. It’s really heartfelt. It’s really distressing. It's very sad, but again it's very real, because these are the ups and downs of being alive, being human, having a goal, trying to achieve that dream and trying to be supportive of the people in your life who may not be thinking straight.

Ron: What Minari says, really quite beautifully, is that you can want something, you can work towards it, sometimes it works out, sometimes it doesn't. But you can still keep trying to do your best.

Mon: Plans change. There are circumstances out of your own hands which will change how you live life. But despite it all, try and look on the bright side. And I really like this message from this film.

Ron: What I love about the central family is that they give each other chances, but they also know when you can't give any more chances. They have the boundaries, they have the barriers, they allow each other to grow and evolve, make mistakes, and just be real. I think that's what really made me love Minari because it's a very real film.

These are not circumstances that we’d find ourselves in; we're hardly gonna be farmers. But I could still see a lot of our story. And a lot of immigrants are going to see themselves in the family in this movie.

Mon: Anybody who's moved out of their regular circumstances into something completely different, be it moving from the city into the suburbs or moving from the suburbs to the farmland, you are going to understand these characters, you're going to understand just how different it is to cope with a new circumstance. And the feeling of constantly reaching for a dream that is always moving its goalposts, is completely understandable to all, it is a universal feeling. If you're going to let the fact that you have to read most of this film stand in the way of you realizing what a resonant film this is, you're doing it wrong. Give this film a chance.

Ron: Yeah, I think a lot of people have really enjoyed this film. I think the small population who refuse to read films have not seen it, but I don't think this film is made for them anyway. This is just a very well-accomplished experience, and I'm really, really glad that it's getting the recognition it is because I loved it. Again, this is a very quiet film like Sound of Metal. Nothing huge happens. It's just these little moments that you feel as a human being.

Mon: Look, if a film is gonna resonate with you emotionally and it's gonna make you feel happy or sad or makes you cry at the right moments, then it's doing it right.

Ron: And everybody in this film has an important part to play. What I really loved about the way Minari is put together is that it's not too expansive. It's just the five of them; from time to time, we get to see a couple of people here and there, but it’s self-contained the same way Sound of Metal was contained with one character and the circumstances around him. And that's why these films really work because they don't aim for something that they can't reach. That's really accomplished filmmaking in my book. I think Minari has a really good chance of winning. I don't think it will, because people are gonna keep equating it with Parasite, but…

Mon: The two films have nothing in common.

Ron: No.

Mon: Just the fact that you have to read them.

Ron: Actually, what I really felt about Minari was this connection with The Farewell, because they both have grandmums. And I'm a sucker for a great grandmum.

Mon: [laughs]

Ron: And both the films have this feeling, you know, like this grandmom is just so important to everybody's life, and the way they were actually navigating the world. I'm still really angry that The Farewell did not get nominated for anything because it should have won it. It was such a good film. In that sense, I hope, Minari can actually give The Farewell, its day in the sun, because there's a really cute grandmom in it, and it's a really sweet story. And it's very affecting, so yeah, hey, here’s hoping! So talking about wildernesses, Nomadland really takes us out there into the wilderness. I really didn’t know what to expect with this film but, wow, what an experience.

Mon: Nomadland really is an experience. What I like is that this film follows a very favoured category of films, not only beloved by the Academy, but by film viewers in general: a love of Americana. But Nomadland looks at America from a completely different point of view. And it actually makes me wonder why we haven't seen this before? The circumstances that Frances McDormand’s character finds herself in, in the places that she visits, that she lives in, the people that she meets. This is really part of America and has been for a really long time. But we're only seeing it now.

It's not really a celebration of America, of the people, it's just life. And I really like that because this is one person who's not trying to make waves. She's just trying to get through life, and I love that about this film.

Ron: I totally had an existential crisis watching this movie. I was just like what have I done for my retirement? Because this is what this film is about. We don't get to see movies or stories about people after they reach a certain age, and definitely don't get to see stories about women after they reach a certain age. This movie is exactly about that. It's about people who’ve finished working, who can no longer work within the very corporate structures of our daily lives. How do they continue on?

Especially when, for the main character, everything's gone. Like, literally, the town that she called home is gone. And somehow, she has to keep continuing. It's really disconcerting when you think about the circumstances, but it's also very positive in the sense that she still finds a community, she still finds things to do, she still keeps on keeping on. This is such a great movie.

MonL One of the things you've heard a lot of recently has been found family and how a lot of communities, how a lot of people from different communities engage more and are more fulfilled, from their found families rather than their own families, for a variety of reasons. With Nomadland, and to an extent even with Sound of Metal, it really is that sense of finding your place within a found family, being accepted within a community. In Sound of Metal, the main character has to go out of his comfort zone, and eventually he needs to find himself in a new community.

Same with Nomadland. She had a life, she had a family, she had a town. Now she has none of that. So how does she navigate life? And we see her being so resistant and hesitant about this new journey that she's taking, the people that she's meeting and how different everything is by the end of it. It's this wistful, almost aspirational feeling, but not aspirational in the sense that we want to emulate her life, but aspirational in the sense that she's looking at it from a very positive point of view.

Previously, films that are very much about American landscapes, American wildernesses, there’s a very glamorous lens through which these stories are told. Nomadland is the opposite. This is not glamorous. Because let's be honest, you're living in a van and traveling from place to place, getting seasonal jobs, there’s nothing glamorous about that. But it's a job, you're making money, you're meeting people, some experiences are great, some experiences aren't. Yeah, that sounds more like life. And I really like that this film is trying to celebrate the ‘uncool’.

Ron: That's a really good point. But again, like Sound of Metal, Nomadland also involves people from the actual community that it was about. And I think that really made a difference to how this story feels. Because if everybody was an actor, I don't think we would have got that authenticity. There would have been something artificial about it.

Mon: It's that authenticity that I loved. The way the characters talk, because they’re literally talking about their real lives. It feels like you're watching a documentary, and you're learning about these fascinating people who are so interesting in their own ways, and it's almost a detached way that they're talking about these quite traumatic incidents in their lives, but at the same time, it's a part of their life so they're just telling it as it is. And I think if an actor was doing it, there’d be a lot of drama and melodrama, you’d have to tone it down. And because these people are so natural and authentic as you said, it makes it feel so real.

Ron: This film could have easily devolved into histrionics. You don't get that, even once. It's as quiet as the landscapes that it shows us. Nomadland might actually have a really good shot. Because it's telling a story that is very much American, but slightly different from what we usually see. So, it may just win.

Mon: I hope so.

Ron: I think it has a good chance. So finally, Promising Young Woman.

Mon: I'm shocked. I'm shocked this made it this far, seriously. There was so much controversy around it from like the get go. It aired at Sundance, 2020, and after a bunch of rather positive reviews, there was suddenly a lot of negativity. I don't think I would have watched this film, especially after the discourse, I definitely did not want to watch this. So, I kind of got all the spoilers of this film before I watched it, because my thought was that I'm not going to watch it, so I don't care. And the more I know about it, the better because I'll be informed.

And I think, in a way, I'm still glad that I did spoil it for myself because I don't know if I could have got through the tension without the spoilers. But at the same time, I'm like, oh, you know, past me will be kicking myself.

Ron: You know, I did the same thing. In fact, I read an entire Twitter thread about the ending. So, I knew exactly what to expect. Or at least, that's what I thought when I started watching the movie and then I was like, this is not what I thought it was going to be at all. It's so different from everything that has been said in the reviews. What is happening?

Mon: I'm also surprised because there has been a lot of discourse about that ending and especially about the ending. I think a lot of people were on board with this film till the last act. In a way, I understand. But I also feel like they weren’t watching it properly. In the sense that I feel like a lot of people, with that final act, have imprinted what they thought on to what the director was doing. I guess films are open to interpretation, so it's fine. But it's been sort of tarred and feathered when I don't think the reading is correct.

Ron: Okay so that was my impression as well, because, from everything that I read about the ending, it felt like it ends at a very low point for the people that we care about in this film. And I was like, that's not fair. But it doesn't end there. I actually feel like Promising Young Woman takes the time to give viewers catharsis, when a lot of other films would not have done that. So, I think what's happening is that what people are calling the end of the film is not the end of the film.

Mon: I feel like a lot of people are reading the actions of the character in that final act as premeditated and intended when, in all honesty, she didn't foresee what happened. The final scene is completely different. That's forethought, foreplaning, good on our protagonist for thinking that. But what actually happens, she didn't foresee it, and it's hard to explain without spoiling it so we’re not gonna spoil it for you. But what we want to say is that the hate towards that final act, it seems uncalled for. Because, as you mentioned with Minari, sometimes you have a plan, and that plan goes to hell because of circumstances out of your control. And that's what happens to our main character.

Ron: So, moving on from the ending, because that's the controversial part, let's move to the rest of the film.

Mon: Yeah.

Ron: My gosh, the tension. Too much tension. I was like, whoa, slow down, but you can't slow down. That's what this movie is about.

Mon: It's hard to talk about this film because it's disturbing and distressing from the very first scene, but because it's directed by a woman, it's not gratuitous. It centers our protagonist in a genre which has often sidelined the actual people who are suffering, the actual victims.

Ron: Promising Young Woman makes you realize what a difference the person behind the camera can make. The subject matter of the story? We've seen it before. The way Promising Young Woman has done it. We have not seen this much. There are a lot of really horrid things that happen and we don't see any of it. But a lot of people watching this movie will be like, I know exactly what happened.

Mon: It goes back to why we loved the Birds of Prey movie from last year so much. Because it’s viewed from a completely different lens, it makes you feel differently about it, as well. It isn’t there to titillate or sensationalize something which is a real horror. It’s looking at this subject matter from the perspective of somebody who's suffering a loss, but it centers that loss, it centers the horror, without actually showing it. And I really appreciate the fact that a), we have this film, and b) it’s up for a Best Picture nom.

Ron: Totally. I was not sure what to expect when I went into this film because of everything that I had read about it and still this film managed to surprise me every single step of the way. Even the ending scene that I knew was going to happen, even that I was like, oh, whoa, is this really happening? And it's a really well-made film.

We keep talking about the slickness of films like The Father and The Trial of the Chicago Seven and Mank. And this film doesn't have that kind of slickness, but it's still so, so polished. It feels like a suspenseful narrative, and it was shot in 23 days! I honestly don't know how they managed to pack in that much story in less than a month. But it is so well done.

Mon: I completely agree with you. It's got this vibe of being colorful and peppy. She works in a cute little coffee shop which is so vibrant, and her manager, played by Laverne Cox, is the most amazing side character ever. She's such a sweetheart! And the main character’s parents are against type? But also, they are just so concerned and involved, and they’re so earnest in their wish for their daughter to have the best life that once was headed towards.

But the darkness that this film has is completely understandable because the main character is facing an injustice, an injustice that she can't correct, so she's going about it in the only way that she can. It's a revenge flick, but it's a very realistic kind of revenge flick, which is weird to me. Which is weird because we watched it, but also that it is getting some recognition.

I will say that this film may not be for everyone. And it's completely understandable if that final act really does disturb you. That it does anger you. You are not wrong in that feeling. I think, go into that third act with an open mind. Don't let the biases of the discourse that you read or come across change how you perceive what is happening. I would not have given this film a shot had it not been nominated for the Oscar noms. Really I was like, I will let it slide. I don't care. But I would have missed out.

Ron: I felt like I needed some fortitude to actually watch this film. And you definitely need that because the tension is ratched up to 20, but not for the reasons that you think it should. I definitely feel like if there was a male director and a male writer, this movie would have been a really, really awful experience, but it wasn't. We had women behind the screen, women on the screen. And that's why this film, for me, really worked.

Mon: It's definitely not going to win. [laughs]

Ron: It's a very accomplishment film, though.

Mon: Yeah, this film is cohesive in a way that Trail of Chicago Seven and Mank feel like they are, but they're not, because they've tried too many things at the same time. This one is very, very clear in its subject matter and in its central story and it goes with it. This is a story first and a film second.

Ron: So yeah, those are the Best Picture nominations. Our pick is Judas and the black Messiah. We have made it very clear which ones we don't want. But let's see who wins. So, who do you think should win Best Picture at the Academy Awards 2021? Let us know. We'd love to hear from you.

You can find us on Twitter @Stereo_Geeks. Or send us an email [email protected]. We hope you enjoyed this episode. And see you next week!

Mon: The Stereo Geeks logo was created using Canva. The music for our podcast comes courtesy Audionautix.

[Continuum by Audionautix plays]

Transcription by Otter.ai, Ron, and Mon.

#stereo geeks #academy award nominations #oscars #judas and the black messiah #mank #nomadland #promising young woman #trial of the chicago 7 #sound of metal #minari #the father

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taste-in-music · 4 years

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My Favorite EPs of 2019

Big, splashy albums from the year are always fun to go over. However, I think it’s just as important to acknowledge the shorter, oftentimes debut projects from artists both big and small that get released in a year as well. So here we have it, my favorite EPs of 2019 in no particular order.

Human by dodie: dodie’s gone done it again and whispered her way right into my heart. Delivering not only her signature vulnerable songwriting and delicate, bordering-on-fragile vocals, she also mixes it up by bringing in some guest features and upbeat moments. “Monster” shines atop of a plucky groove of glassy synths, and other production elements, like swelling strings on “She” and rushing, almost ocean-like undercurrent present on the fantastic title track “Human” make this EP a consistent but also highly atmospheric listen. Now when are we going to get an album?

My Top Track: Human ft. Tom Walker

Sanctuary by Aly & AJ: In a year where the Jonas Brothers made their comeback, I was waiting on the edge of my seat for the public to finally acknowledge the fact that Aly & AJ had been back for a while were crafting some of the catchiest, most addictive synth-pop under the sun. While that didn’t happen, we still have this glorious EP to enjoy. “Church” is the personal standout for me, adorned in sparkling vocal layering and a shimmering drop that feels like diving into an icy cool pool. The rest of the EP delivers catchy tracks accented with glistening production that catapults the project up into the galaxy.

My Top Track: Church

Perception EP by Joy Crookes: Y’all want to know why I procrastinate these lists for so long? It’s because I’m afraid that I’m going to overlook gems that I’ll regret not covering in the following year. This snuck in right under the wire, I didn’t hear this until a week or so ago when Joy Crookes was featured in BBC’s Sound of 2020 longlist. But boy am I sure glad I found out about her, because Joy Crookes is one of my favorite new finds of the year. Her performances on this EP are so smooth and self-assured, supported by chill R&B instrumentals that will flow through your mind with absolute ease. Also, she’s the first artist to use “skrt” in a song and have it work for me.

My Top Track: Hurts

Indigo by Erthlings: My favorite up-and-coming girl group has finally released their debut project, and I couldn’t be happier! This EP is a sweet little taste of indie pop awash in hazy guitars and gentle vocals. That doesn’t mean it’s all sugar-fluff though, there’s a snappy bass groove on “Bridges” and some spooky synths on “Cuts and Bruises” that provide variety.

My Top Track: Returning

Wild Wild Woman by Your Smith: Your Smith has made it onto this list for two years in a row, and for good reason. She takes the boppability (is that a word? I don’t care,) of last year’s Bad Habit and boosts it with a feeling of breeziness and spontaneity that is so refreshing on the ears. There’s something about the sound of this EP that makes me want to roll down the window of a car and drive through a desert, it’s that easygoing and smooth.

My Top Track: In Between Plans

chapter 2 by girl in red: Here we have another artist that has made the list two years in a row! This EP is varied, with girl in red moving into territory that gets more tender, (”watch you sleep.”) raunchy (”bad idea!”) or even joyfully absurd, (”dead girl in the pool.”) Despite this variety, this EP is held together though Marie Ulven’s down-to-earth performances that make this project feel relatable and all too real.

My Top Track: watch you sleep.

Some Place Else by MorMor: MorMor’s music makes me feel like I’ve drifted off into the ether, it is the epitome of dreaminess. The instrumental and vocals perfectly balance woozy lilting melodies and grounded elements, such as textured drums or deeper guitars. Put this EP on if you want to forget all of your troubles and let the world pass you by, it’s absolutely blissful.

My Top Track: Outside

Friends by Omar Apollo: I decided to give this EP a listen at the recommendation of a YouTuber I watch, (Alfo Media, you can check out his Omar Apollo video here. I also discovered Faye Webster through him.) This EP features a wide scope of eclectic sounds, from disco funk to bedroom pop ballads. I can safely say that there is a song on here for everybody. I played “So Good” in the car for my family when driving one time and literally everybody was bopping.

My Top Track: So Good

Talk You Down by Nightly: I was clicking through Spotify and this band popped right out of nowhere, and I’m so glad that I came across their music. They’ve got a similar energy to bands like WALK THE MOON and St. Lucia, playing vibrant electronic pop rock that puts you in a good mood. This EP is a sweet little slice of summery fun that will brighten your day in an instant.

My Top Track: Say Anything Else

you ruined new york city for me by FLETCHER: This EP saw a change in direction for FLETCHER’s sound, turning from the organic textures and dizzy-in-love sweetness of her Finding Fletcher EP (which I adore, by the way,) and moving into a moodier, more mature vibe. The best part of this EP, hands down, is FLETCHER’s performances. They’re so impassioned and effortless as they careen through the tales of heartbreak, she sells every song with her vocals. Also, “Undrunk” made it onto the Hot 100? I’m so proud!

My Top Track: All Love

Junk by Carlie Hanson: Ever since I fell in love with Carlie Hanson’s splash hit “Only One” early last year, I’ve been eagerly awaiting a debut project from her. After a slew of singles since then, Hanson returned with an EP that is a focused flurry of fresh sounding pop. Fun elements include the beat-boxing on the opening track “Bored with You” and the electric guitar that kicks the ever-addictive “Back in My Arms” into gear. I can’t wait to see what she brings to a longer project in the future.

My Top Track: Back In My Arms

Flashbacks & Fantasies by Ralph: How lucky are we that Ralph gave us an EP so quickly after her album? We truly aren’t worthy. This project is stuffed with fun, glittery pop hooks that’ll get you grooving in no time. Songs on this project range from hypnotic indie pop bops to dancefloor bangers that feel ripped right out of the 80s.

My Top Track: No Muss No Fuss

Deadbeats by Willa: What a comeback this turned out to be! Willa’s turn to bright, fluorescent pop has been an absolute joy, featuring some of the catchiest hooks of the year. “Cause You Did” made it onto my favorite songs of the year list last year, and it still holds up. “Deadbeats” is one of my favorite pop songs of the year, the chorus is absolutely euphoric. Also, check out her Twitter and the thread she made of all the colors and textures she associates with each songs, she’s synesthetic so it’s really interesting to look through.

My Top Track: Deadbeats

What were your favorite EPs of 2019? Did you listen to any of these EPs? Leave your recommendations and thoughts down below.

#EP #EPs #EP of the year #EP recommendation #dodie #aly & aj #erthlings #your smith #girl in red #mormor #omar apollo #FLETCHER #carlie hanson #willa #taste in music #taste in music 2019 faves

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therainroguefanfiction · 4 years

Text

🎃 Frightful October Act XI, #31 ~ Happy Halloween! (Crossover)

📑 Table of Contents

Genre: Crack, Crossover, AU

Word Count: 1,328

Pairing: Reader, Various

World: Various

Author’s Note: It took me three days to render this god-forsaken gif and I realized after the fact that it’s not even the same gif that I originally used ._.) It’s complete trash but oh well. It’s three days of work!

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“Y/N, honey, you got a letter!”

Curious, you headed downstairs to the kitchen where your mom was working on dinner. Your brow furrowed at the white envelope sitting on the counter, your name written in a messy print on the front. There was no stamp or return address, and the back flap was easily opened, revealing a sheet of lined notebook paper. Had your mom forgotten to give you this? Or did this arrive just now? Who delivers mail after dark?

You pulled the letter out and began reading.

You frowned at the letter, feeling something stir in the back of your mind. It was extremely suspect, but you felt compelled to attend, almost as if you had no choice in the matter. You showed it to your mom, but she didn’t seem at all concerned about the legitimacy of the letter and simply told you to have a good time.

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Dressed in your costume of choice, you approached the abandoned mill, decorated to the nines. The baren earth leading up to the mill was covered by scattered tombstones and the occasional boney hand sticking out from the ground, fingers bent at odd angles. Ghosts hung from the neck on the bare branches of the trees surrounding the property. Plastic stickers of black cats, bats, owls, and candy had been stuck to the windows, and a metal plate had been bolted to the door. ‘Welcome’ was painted on the plate in a bleeding font, in shades of purple, orange, and black.

‘Should I knock?’ you wondered, hesitating at the door as your hand hovered in mid-air. The decision was made for you when the door slowly creaked open. Low Halloween music reached your ears as you stepped into the entryway. Loud voices and laughter floated from the left and you followed the sound into the front room, which had been converted into a living room. Several people, all wearing costumes, were scattered around the room, dancing or chatting with one another.

A long table was set up against the back wall, offering various drinks placed in ice and snacks on plastic plates, decorated like pumpkins and eyeballs. You grabbed a red solo cup and poured your favorite drink before munching on a cookie, observing the other guests as they interacted with each other.

“Oi, Tetsu! I told you not to scare me like that!”

“I’ve been standing here the whole time, Aomine-kun.”

“I can’t believe you dressed like a cartoon girl, Dean.”

“It’s anime and it’s art, Sammy.”

“You are unworthy of being in Beelze-sama’s presence, Pikachu.”

“Don’t hate me because I’m beautifully electric~”

“There’s so many sweets, look Jackal!”

“Please don’t eat yourself into a sugar coma, Marui.”

“Mada mada dane.”

“There’s no candy corn…”

“I hope the cheesecake eyeballs taste good, I tried hard not to mess them up…”

“Hyung, can we go back to the forest? It’s way too stuffy here.”

“Be patient, we’ll leave soon, Junhong.”

“It’s kinda boring. I shoulda brought my Ouija board.”

“Didn’t that go horribly wrong for you?”

“Pft, Luigi Board.”

“Hyung, you’re so embarrassing~!”

You smiled at the various groups of people as they mingled together, drinking and having fun. So many varying personality types… it was awesome to see everyone together. Maybe coming to the party wasn’t such a bad idea, after all.

The music started to fade before being replaced by a female voice coming from the speakers. “Hello, and welcome, everyone! Thank you so much for attending my 2019 Halloween Gathering, I do hope you’re all enjoying yourselves.”

Hilda stepped forward, her green eyes narrowed at the speaker mounted in the corner near the ceiling. “Show yourself, coward. How dare you kill off my beloved Y/N!”

Saitama huffed from behind her. “You made Y/N get kidnapped in my story!”

“You made my beautiful Y/N a murderer!” Denki whined, his bottom lip jutting out.

“Why didn’t I get a kissing scene with Y/N?” Killua pouted. “Even a peck on the cheek would’ve been fine.”

“Killua…” Gon sweatdropped. “Shouldn’t you be more concerned about the demon that attacked Y/N?”

“My chapter was great! No complaints here~” Marui grinned, folding his hands behind his head.

“But you ruined mine,” Ryoma glared at him. “I missed my kiss with Y/N because of you.”

Laughter filled the mill before the woman spoke again, amusement clear in her tone. “You all complain and yet you give no pause to think about your ‘beloved’ Y/N, who has been forced to live through so many events.”

As if one single unit, the entire room turned to stare at you and you gulped, stepping back until you hit the snack table. You sweatdropped. ‘Just how many lives has this chick given me?’

She laughed again, reading your mind. “More than you will ever know, my dear Y/N! You are quite precious to me, after all, for, without you, my tales simply could not be.”

“Glad I could help,” you muttered unhappily.

“Now, then. I’m sure all of you are quite curious as to why you have been gathered here. Well, I wish to extend my thanks to you all for being unwitting participants in this year’s festivities. It was a long and stressful ride to be sure, but worry not! I am proud of my accomplishments and shall rest well once this night comes to a close.”

“This has to be illegal, aru.” Yao frowned, folding his arms within his long sleeves.

She giggled. “But my dear, beautiful Chinese man, it’s only illegal if you get caught!”

A chill went down his spine and he paled.

Cory turned his head to stare directly at the camera, breaking the fourth wall. “Please don’t do this at home, kids.”

“This is stupid, I’m leaving.”

The group watched as Nathan stalked to the front door, but the lock clicked before his hand could grab the doorknob. He tried to unlock it, tugging on the door with all of his strength, but it wouldn’t budge.

A streak of lightning split the dark sky, lighting up the mill with an ethereal light. The woman’s sudden laughter made the teen jump away from the door as if it had just shocked him.

“Come now, did you really think it would be so simple to leave?” Footsteps echoed throughout the mill, the stairs creaking. A heavyset woman descended the steps, dressed in a taco costume and wearing a Dr. Pepper hat atop her short hair.

Everyone sweatdropped at the ridiculous sight before them.

She smirked, stopping halfway down the stairs. “I’m afraid all of you belong to me now. We’re going to make such wonderful tales in the future!”

“This is definitely illegal,” Izuku cried, grabbing onto the closest person to him, which happened to be the smol bean, Near.

“There’s more than thirty of us versus just one of you!” Youngjae growled, baring his canine teeth in anger. “You can’t take all of us on!”

“But my dear wolf, I already have,” she grinned, holding her arms out to her sides. A pink and black mist, sparkling in the light, filled the air. Everyone quickly covered their noses, but it was already far too late for them. One by one, the guests dropped to the ground, unconscious.

You were the last one, sprawled out on the shag rug as you fought against the darkness trying to claim your mind.

The woman angled her body toward the top of the stairs before kneeling down. “My lord, I offer you forty-one ripe, new souls for your army.

You listened as the ceiling creaked under someone’s weight, footsteps approaching the top of the stairs. Your eyes widened in disbelief.

“Good job, gamer!” Pewdiepie smirked, his blue eyes scanning the group. “Send them over to Marzia for de-aging and then join us in my closet for some G-Fuel powder while we feast on dank memes!”

“Of course, m’lord!” her grin was the last thing you saw before darkness claimed you. “Welcome to the nine-year-old army, gamers!”

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dennou-translations · 4 years

Text

Chou Animedia Interview with Chihara Minori

“Amy”, the theme song of the film “Violet Evergarden Gaiden” sung by Chihara Minori, is a gem birthed from the world of theatrical animes.

About a year and a half after its TV broadcast, the new work, “Violet Evergarden: Eien to Jidou Shuki Ningyou”, started being screened on September 6, 2019. Following the TV series, Chihara Minori, who was in charge of the opening theme song “Amy”, released it as a single prior to the theatrical screening! An interview about the highlights of the song and the appeal of “Violet Evergarden” was published in Seiyuu Animedia’s October issue. Here in Chou! Animedia, we will deliver a long version of it, which includes the parts that could not make into the article.

Raw || Index

■ “I was able to feel a worthiness and sense of accomplishment that I had never felt before.”

——Please tell us your impressions regarding the TV anime series “Violet Evergarden”, in which you appear and were in charge of the theme songs.

It is a wonderful story where a girl named Violet Evergarden meets people of all sorts of circumstances through her ghostwriting job while looking for the meaning of the words “I love you”, which were left to her by someone important, and everyone grows up. The one I play, Erica Brown, is an introverted girl with no confidence in herself, but after meeting Violet, she was able to pursue her dreams and move on. (The ex-soldier) Violet supposedly shoulders a past with incalculable pain and suffering. But I believe it is exactly because of this that Violet has the power to move people’s hearts. I feel that this series has the power to take away all our negative emotions and that there is a lot of love in it.

——What kind of appeal do you feel from its Gaiden, the new film?

It is a story centered in Isabella York and Taylor Bartlett, who had a fateful meeting with each other when they were younger, and Violet carries out the important role of reconnecting these two, who ended up living separately. There are times when Isabella is overwhelmed by the decision she made in the past and suffers because of it, but once she meets Violet, her heart, which had been closed up, melts down and she changes little by little. Through this work, I thought that Isabella, Taylor, Violet herself and every single one of us can overcome hardships if they happen, exactly because we have people who can serve as support for our hearts, and we live every day while being helped out by others. This Gaiden is also a story full of a kindness that only “Violet Evergarden” has.

——What was your impression when it was decided that you would be in charge of the theme song of the Gaiden, following the TV series?

Honestly, I was uncertain if I could write lyrics superior to “Michishirube” (smiles bitterly). I have sung the theme songs of countless serial shows until now, so for the part of the series that I bear responsibility, the sense of anxiety as to whether or not I could surpass my previous work was already there with me. However, I was not just the singer but was also in charge of the lyrics this time, so I felt for real the difficulty of renewing a musical composition from a serial show, as well as how high this bar was.

——How was the theme song “Amy” created?

I talked to director Fujita (Haruka) and the staff, and it was unanimously decided that “since the scene where Violet dances in a ball in the middle of the film is very impressive, wouldn’t it be nice to make it a triple-time waltz”. (Composer) Kikuta (Daisuke)-san also told me that, as this work was going to be released in theaters, the song was made in a way that would link the contents of the film and the animation in a sonorous fashion. So, when I first listened to it, from the intro to the conclusion, including the arrangement, I thought that the composition was as if I were watching a dramatic movie and it made me emotional.

——When you were chosen to write the lyrics, how did you come up with the concept?

I had crammed all my feelings towards this work into “Michishirube”, the ending theme song of the TV series, so I thought about writing these lyrics in a way that they would be close to the story of the Gaiden. “Amy” is the precious magic word that connects Isabella and Taylor, the two who were separated in this story, for all eternity. So just like this, from the title “Amy” to each of the verses, the song nestles one hundred percent close to the series. Also, the first-person pronoun is “boku” in the first chorus, “watashi” in the second, and lastly, it is both “boku” and “watashi”, which are sides of each character. When people watch the film, I think they will definitely understand the reference, like, “Aah, so that’s what it was about”. Director Fujita has tons of love for the series and she made this together with me while having discussions about it, being satisfied with it in the end, so I really felt a worthiness and sense of accomplishment that I had never experienced before, which made me happy. This song composition definitely would not have been birthed if not for this series.

——Did you like actually singing it?

Including the part of pre-projects and voice training, things had progressed carefully, so by the time we did the recording, I was already getting along with the song very well (laughs). People were going to listen to it in the theaters, so I sang in a way that they would be able to hear the words clearly, that it would be delivered to their hearts as if I were narrating it. During the first meeting, director Fujita said several times, “I don’t want to deny choices that someone made with love”. So I had something like a sense of responsibility that I should make this song into a warm one with salvation to it. Anyhow, I sing it while wishing for Isabella and Taylor’s happiness. For me, going out into my home’s veranda and singing this song at the end of the day has turned into a routine (laughs). It goes without saying that people will reminisce to the story they saw in the theaters when listening to it, but if they listen to it before bed, they might be able to have a peaceful sleep.

——The MV also displays the dance in a way that comes close to the film.

Indeed, the film’s dance scene is very impressive, so I suggested that it might be wonderful if I also danced it in the MV. But it was my first time dancing waltz, so I practiced for two days before the filming. The instructor chose steps and moves that even an amateur like me could manage.

——The scene where you were lifted by the male dancer was also incredible (laughs). It was amazing (laughs)!

At the end of the day, it is difficult to continuously keep a beautiful posture… There is a correct position for the head, face, hips, rear and everything else, so I had muscular pains all over my body (laughs). But we were able to make an extremely marvelous MV thanks to that, so right now, I am thinking of learning a bit of ballroom dancing (laughs). Also, since the story has been finished, I want people to pay attention to the outcomes of those two as well, and we did our best in the acting, so I would be happy if people could notice the characters’ facial expressions too.

——The coupling song, “Plumeria”, is also a wonderful composition.

It is a slightly fashionable and uplifting EDM. Amongst the song compositions of “Chihara Minori” from until now, which have always given full-out and were mostly strong and cool, there had not been a song that I was able to sing so relaxed and naturally as just myself. The sense of tempo is also very refreshing and comfortable, so it became a “breaking new grounds” kind of song for me. According to the director, it seems this song has the image of “an adult woman who plays around and makes bets looking at the sunset in a resort by the sea” (laughs). That’s why I looked up tropical flowers in my phone and sang it after getting a tropical feeling. Also, about the bit in the lyrics that goes “the place where I am myself when I come back to it”, when I searched for where that could be in my case, turns out it was the live concert stage. In the end, when I come back to the live venue and hold a concert, I can think “I’ll do my best once again from tomorrow on”. To me, my fans are the plumerias inside my heart.

——The other one, “Mikashokuman no Utage nite”, is also a live concert song that will surely rile up people.

This one was made for people to enjoy the live, as the theme song of SUMMER CHAMPION 2019. Since it is a live concert festival, I had requested a melody that would be perfect for festivities, as well as an arrangement that included a traditional taste overseas fans would also enjoy, and I was happy that the composition turned out as something beyond my expectations! When I actually sang it at the concert, the duets were spot-on, the venue’s voltage exploded in an instant, and it truly came out as an amazing song (laughs). When I think about how I can nurture this composition more and more in live concerts from now on, I end up looking forward to it!

——By the way, did you like listening to these three songs one after another?

To tell the truth, I have not listened to them in sequence (laughs). The three songs here assembled are of varied natures, to the point they can give people the impression that “Is it really the same person singing them all?”, so I wonder how the people who actually listened to them in order felt. Including this aspect of it, I look forward to doing this on one hand, yet it makes me nervous on the other (laughs)… But I am happy that I was able to deliver a “new Chihara Minori” like this once again. Having reached the fifteenth anniversary of my debut last year, I am really feeling the joy of being able to make something new one more time.

——You also had a birthday live in November to celebrate your debut’s fifteenth anniversary, right?

Since it is a live concert for my fifteenth anniversary, I wanted the contents to be something that would firmly touch upon the history of “Chihara Minori”. However, I released a “the best” album and did a best hits live on my tenth anniversary, so I did a lot of planning in order not to do the same thing. It was held at a live house, so I had concluded it was going to be a very intense concert. I will be transferring to a new agency and turning a new leaf in April, so I was really happy and looking forward to spending the very day of my birth with my fans in a year that would be the beginning of trying my best while feeling like a rookie!

——Please leave a message to your fans.

Again, a new work packed with love has been finalized. I believe this one was born thanks to my meeting with “Violet Evergarden”. I would be most satisfied if you all could go to the theaters and enjoy “Amy” together with the story as you listen to it!

#violet evergarden #violet evergarden gaiden #fyeahvioletevergarden #kyoani #kyoto animation #chihara minori #interview #animedia #my translation

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