#really pleased with how the colours and the tv and the perspective and expressions turned out

[abrielarnold]

The lights overhead sputter.

Danny doesn’t look at either of them. It’s still cold in the room, despite the warm air now running.

Alex’s chest is hollow.

“Your parents work for the Foundation,” he says softly. “That’s why you’re on the run, isn’t it? Because they would turn you in?”

Danny pulls into himself even closer. “No—I—I don’t know,” Danny snaps. He has that same wild animal look in his eye that Alex saw on their first day together. “You don’t—It doesn’t matter now.”

aaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA chapter 6!

more more MORE art for Things That Bleed by @dp-belongs-in-a-hoodie @kkachis and @artistfingers

(every chapter is good so so good. loosing my miiiiiind. devouring this fic with both hands)

[musicalmagic]

Scared Of Being Swept Away (Self-Doubt)

Summary: You're a college student studying linguistics with Namjoon. He offers to help you study one day, but ends up scaring you when he attempts to get you to open up after you keep saying you're stupid and'll never get anything. Namjoon then ends up drunk on your doorstep after texting you, apologising and worried for you. The next day is when he finally realises why you're so afraid. 

A/N: The first of my stories to reach past 1k into 2k territory (included the alternate title as well). I hope you don’t mind such a lengthy one-shot, I’m open to writing more for all the members for the stories I’ve written. I did really enjoy writing this, as you must’ve guessed! Hahaha, wow... This story was also the hardest for me to write so far... 

*Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Reader

*Word Count: 2,136

*Genre: Fluff

*Warnings: None

“You’ve used the wrong word for this again, _____.” Namjoon calmly explained. You were both friends in college studying Linguistics. Currently, you two were going over syntaxes. Of course Namjoon picked everything up well (but you were sure it’s because of his motivation…), you however, kept getting mixed up between word grammar and operator grammar.

“I’m telling you Namjoon, I’ve got this,” you assured him.

He rolled his eyes, “Yes, sure. You got confused about reduction and mis-labelled it for word grammar. I believe that.”

“Come on! It isn’t my fault I can’t pick this up! I’m not smart like you Namjoon!” You grumbled, dramatically dropping your pen on the textbook in front of you. He picked up the rolling pen, twirling it absentmindedly, amusement traded in for worry.

“____, you are. You may not believe me, that’s okay. Smartness, intelligence, everyone’s different, you know?” He leaned back in the library chair, watching you as you bit your lip, “Your talent lies in other things, and besides,” He moves closer to you, pointing the pen to your heart, “It’s all about perspective. You believe you aren’t smart, that’s fine. But may I pose the question, if you thought you were all the time, what would you think then?”

“I would be ignorant into my own thinking, Namjoon,” you replied while crossing your arms. Namjoon placed the pen in front of him.

“True. But now, going back to saying you weren’t, if you recognise your own perspective, isn’t that intelligence? Plenty of people claim they are geniuses, high IQ, no? Personally, I believe that if you see your own faults, that’s how you can grow. If I say that I’m smart since I was born, that isn’t growth, is it?”

You sigh, Namjoon’s lectures always seemed to go over your head. You stared at him with a puzzled expression.

“Okay, maybe,” He sighed, “Sorry…Maybe we should just keep studying.”

“I should be the one apologising, sitting here making you study with me.”

Namjoon tapped the table all of the sudden, startling you.

“Let’s go,” he said quickly, gathering all of his things, and yours straight after, “We need a change of pace.”

You get tugged out of the college library, the brightness of the sun glaring against your eyes. Namjoon wraps his hand around yours softly, pulling you along to a nearby park.

“Namjoon—!” You start to say before he sat you down and hold your hands close to your heart.

Namjoon breathes deeply before whispering, “See here, that’s where I want you to focus. _____, how do you see yourself?”

“Stupid,” you replied softly.

“Let it go.” He stated.

“What?” You asked, confused.

Namjoon lets his own hands drop to his lap, “Let it go.” He said again.

“Let go of…?” Sighing gently, Namjoon holds your hands that were pressed against your chest, pulling them downwards to your lap, copying him from just before.

“What you think,” he replied simply, studying your expression, “You need to, _____.”

You shake your head, “I can’t, Joonie. I just can’t do that…”

“Are you afraid of it?”

“No…” He stared at you as you dug your nail into your palm. Nervously trembling.

“What’s stopping you?” You don’t look at him, preferring to stare at the tree behind Namjoon. Spring is gently touching the leaves, turning the colours to a nice, tranquil green.

“…____?” He tried again. You still don’t reply.

______

After your humiliating study session with Namjoon, you ended up sulking. Why did he have to do that?

He texted you after you left, after you went to go for a coffee. You were waiting in line to order when a message from him popped up.

[Namjoon: 4:23pm] I’m sorry for stressing you out.

You quickly typed out your reply.

[You: 4:23pm] Can you please not do that again?

[Namjoon: 4:28pm] I won’t ever again. That was wrong of me. I shouldn’t have overstepped like that.

Pleased, you ordered an Ice Americano instead of a latte (what you were originally going to order), as a small treat and headed back to your apartment. Namjoon didn’t text you again pretty much the entire day and early evening the next day. Until, you got a message from a drunk Namjoon, very rarely would Namjoon drink; so him drunk is a novelty despite being in college.

[Namjoon: 6:12pm] ____, don’t you now I hare tgar youew mean to urself?

[Namjoon: 6:12pm] I try ti help youuu but I feel likw it sometems goed nowhere… 

You chuckled at his drunk writing, but a little teary at what he was saying (well, trying to say).

[You: 6:14pm] Namjoonie, please drink some water. You’re drunk right now…

[Namjoon: 6:14pm] Nooooo I don’t wanna :( :(

Ah, he sounds so needy…It’s weirdly cute, you thought to yourself as you typed out your reply. But, a knock from your apartment door broke your concentration. When you walked over to the front from the living room, you were surprised to find Namjoon standing there.

As you opened the door, Namjoon crushed you into a bear hug. You had to physically man-handle him inside as he clung to you. Shuffling him into the living room to sit down.

“Kim. Nam. Joon. What are you doing here?” You asked, a little crossed, but also a bit worried.

Namjoon looked like a sad puppy as he replied, a little slurred, “I wanted to see youuu.”

“But Namjoonie, you shouldn’t have come over drunk!”

“I-I felt really badddd…” He said sourly, pouting.

You sighed, rubbing your forehead. After a couple moments of him staring at you, you headed off into the kitchen to get a glass of water. You returned to Namjoon hugging your pillow, but it was looking close to popping.

“N-Namjo—” The pillow popped.

You stood there just as stunned as Namjoon was, and him being drunk, was slower to realise what just happened. He slowly looked up at you with puppy-dog eyes as he held the lifeless pillow, looking close to losing it.

Once again, you sighed. Albeit a little heavier than before.

That’s when the rant happened, “I’m sorry ____! I didn’t mean to pop the pillow I seriously didn’t want to do that I don’t know what you want me to do and I promise you this wasn’t meant to happen please don’t get mad I’ll pay you back,” you tried to interject, calling his name, but he just kept going, “I-I really didn’t want to pop it and I’m sorry for coming over like this I just felt so bad and worried and that I betrayed our friendship or that you wouldn’t like me anymore,” you stopped him by belting his name this time.

“Namjoonie!” He stopped immediately, mid-sentence and looking like he was caught chewing on his owner’s shoes, “Please stop rambling, okay?”

You gave him the glass of water, which you held through all that time, “Drink this and stay here. You obviously, somehow rode your bike here, but I doubt you’d be able to do that back home now.”

He sniffled, it was cute, but you were more worried about the man on your couch drunk and in a panicked state. You were more worried if he was okay.

“I’m sorry…” he softly pleaded. You patted his head as he drank the water, “No biggie, okay Namjoonie? Nothing to be so upset over. It’s just one pillow,” you cooed.

He had finished quickly, a slight blush on his cheeks as he handed the empty glass back to you. You smiled gently as you padded back into the kitchen. Coming out to see him settling in on the couch.

“Y-You--I make you act like a mother… I never mean to,” Namjoon mumbled, words slurring together, as he adjusted the unhappy popped pillow. You only rolled your eyes, slipping out the popped pillow for a fresh one and drabbing over a doona on him that rested atop a table up against the couch.

“I know, I know. But hey, you help me more than enough too. You respect me, I respect you. It’s mutual Namjoonie,” you reply.

He smiled, dimples and all, “You sounded like me!” You chuckled, clicking off the light as you exited into the hallway.

“Sleep tight.”

______

Namjoon had groaned as he opened his eyes. His back ached, and his arm felt like it fell asleep. But more importantly, he was hungover. Badly. He knew where he was, on your couch, he made sure he didn’t drink to the point of blackout; yet the headache that pressed up against his skull was more than enough to piss him off into a promise of never drinking again. That, of course, being a futile thing. Linguistics was a pain, even to him.

He looked around from his head against the pillow, the TV blackened like the night sky, as he moved his head, Namjoon felt his neck crack in anger. He slept on his neck wrong as well!

You walked into the room, humming softly. You wore your favourite pjs, all-cotton pastel blue, with a little moon embroidered onto the pocket on the right side of your chest.

Namjoon watched you silently, a little gasp on his lips. Never seeing you like this, it was definitely a sight that he wouldn’t forget anytime soon. How soft you appeared to be, even more so than two days ago. His heart still ached when he saw how distraught he had made you. He hadn’t wanted to make you feel like that. He just really hated to see how little you thought of yourself.

“____, you’re,” Namjoon paused, mulling over what to say, “W-Well…do you need help with breakfast?” He finally asked.

You just laughed breathlessly, “No Namjoon. Last time you tried to cook, we ended up having to scrap the entire thing because you burned all of it!” He shyly looked away, covering his face as his blush fully creeped up, embarrassed was only the half of it.

“I apologise for everything…” He began, still covering his face as he spoke, “I really didn’t mean to come here so out of it, and it was wrong of me to forcefully try you to be more open. It was wrong, and I really, really didn’t want to hurt you,” Namjoon finished, his shoulders relaxing slightly. Worry thudded its way through his bones when he didn’t hear your reply.

“Namjoon,” his name from you suddenly startled him, he dropped his hands from his face to see your lips pursed, “It’s okay. I understand why you did what you did. It was just sudden, and you left me with no way to breathe… You don’t, quite know why it bothered me so, no?” He shook his head.

“No, I don’t, and I shouldn’t have assumed things so quickly,” you hummed at his answer.

You sat down next to him, he had to shuffled his legs out of the way and curled up underneath the doona. You sighed, staring at him, and somehow Namjoon knew what you were going to say. He choked up as you started, “I-I’m… just afraid Namjoon… I’m afraid of being swept away, there’s others in the class who are just so much more able to pick up on things better than I can,” despite himself, a man who rarely gave physical affection by his own, he wrapped his arms around you tightly.

“You need to be kinder to yourself,” he said, wincing after as his headache panged, “You can do so much that you don’t see. I want to help you see it, but I know I can’t; I’m just a reminder for you.”

“Namj—”

“Let me finish, please ____.” You rested your head against his shoulder, huffing, “____, I hope you know that you can do this. It may seem bleak right now, our exams are coming up and I know it’s going to be difficult; but you really can get through this. Please, please find that strength to believe in yourself. I hate seeing you this way.”

You felt tears prickle its way out, so scared of it falling yet you didn’t want to leave Namjoon’s embrace. So instead you held onto him as he whispered to you.

You really did hate it all, how your thoughts seemed to counter everything he said to you. That you weren’t good anything. It was screaming at you to let go, to sulk, to change majors. But Namjoon kept on, even if he didn’t know everything, he at least knew that you were dealing with so much hidden away. He couldn’t help you completely, but he was still going to be there for you.

“No matter what it says, I’ll be here to tell you reality. Even if it takes an eternity, I won’t let you be swept away anymore.”

[baldwin-montclair]

Baldwin’s Nightingale (Part 1)

Characters: Baldwin Montclair/OC

Timeframe: Before the S1 Finale, TV Show canon only (haven’t read the books yet)

Summary: Daemon violinist Alisha Black meets the enigmatic Baldwin Montclair during the intermission of a performance and finds herself trusting him after he intervenes with a disgruntled former colleague.

Tag requests: Christi14

—————————

Once was unusual, twice was disconcerting but the presence of a vampire at three of Alisha’s Concerta’s firmly falls into the category of alarming.

Unfortunately, the short smoke break in the alley behind the concert hall wasn’t quite helping to lower her stress level.

Having made first chair in the philharmonic she was already hyper aware of just how much rested on her and as a daemon, attention from any other creature, witch or vampire was entirely unwelcome.

It was definitely the same vampire, their stare was distinctive compared to the few she had experienced. Usually it felt like a focused, cold, laser but this was different. It was unnerving in how not unpleasant it was. Under the hot lights of the stage, the gentle blanket of loose packed, soft snow was welcome.

Hey,” the irate voice was all too familiar and it shook her from her reverie, “you’re blocking my calls now?” Alisha looks up to see Angelo approach.

Of all the problems she thought she’d have to deal with that night, a pissed off former first chair was not one of them.

“What are you doing here?” Alisha rolls her eyes in annoyance, not in the mood.

“I wanted to apologise, actually, but since you blocked my calls-“

“Bullshit,” Alisha hits back, “this is a very small business we’re in and I happen to know that you’re struggling to get a place anywhere.”

Angelo’s jaw clenches.

“I’m an idiot, I was up my own ass and when you got the chair it floored me, I said some things I regret. Please don’t ruin my career over a stupid mistake.”

“I’m not ruining anything, you chose to quit without notice and if nobody’s hiring you’ve only got yourself to blame. Now, please leave and do not contact me again.”

She only got the door open a small crack before he slammed it closed and pushed her against the hard brick wall of the alley, her knee connecting with the uneven masonry, causing her to full to her knees.

“Who the fuck are y-“ she heard him start from behind her, followed by a yelp of terror then nothing for a few seconds.

Here,” a second male, a voice she didn’t recognise, offered his hand from behind her. The scent of his expensive, subtle, aftershave joined the familiar, cool greeting of his gaze, “let me help you.”

She accepted his hand, cold, strong, and surprisingly gentle as he helped her to her feet.

When she turned to see her saviour, in full suit, long coat it hit her that he was the vampire she had sensed, it was him.

Him.

Doesn’t quite describe his presence and that is what hits her first. His aura, a warrior, a protector and a leader all in one.

“Where’s Angelo?” She blurts out, her mind blank to everything else.

“Does he know where you live?“ He asks, ignoring her question.

“Not as far as I know, why?”

“He ran off and although I’m not anticipating his return, I’ll have Jonathan add more security.”

“Jonathan, the company director?”

“Of course.” His eyes fixed hers before he glances down at her grazed knee.

“Baldwin Montclair,” he answers simply and she feels her breath catch in her throat as her heart thumps.

Not only is he a vampire but the head of the oldest and most powerful vampire family, the De Clermonts.

“You know who I am.” It wasn’t a question and she knew it, he could obviously hear the frenetic pace of her heartbeat.

“And that you’re...yeah, I know who you are, which is why I should deal with this.” She gestured to the cut on her knee.

“Nonsense, I can control myself,” he reaches inside his jacket to produce a crisp, white, monogrammed handkerchief, “may I?”

She nods wordlessly and watch him go down on one knee before her, like a knight. He takes her hand and places it on his shoulder.

“For balance.” He explained and with one fluid motion he flicks off her heel and lifts her leg to rest her bare foot on his knee.

The dress she had chosen was just covering the graze and he glanced up, looking for her permission to move it which she also nodded at, whilst swallowing hard.

“It’s important to me that you say it.” He explains, patiently, his request for express consent harkening back to a more Chivalric time.

“Yes, Mr Montclair.” She answers as he carefully folds the hem of the dress away from the graze.

“Baldwin.” He corrects, his hand on her calf as he gently dabs the area.

“Alisha.” She answers.

The sharp sting of contact makes her inhale sharply but after a moment, it becomes soothing.

A concert hall back alley in New York City is not the most romantic location but this is easily the most romantic thing that had ever happened to her.

That was, until he helped her slip the shoe back on and brought to mind one very obvious fairytale.

When he stood, he removed his long overcoat.

“Why on earth would you come out here without a jacket?” He asked, holding his coat open to help her into it.

“I just stepped out for a cigarette and it’s kind of you to offer but I’m fine, really.” He tilts his head to the side, his gaze unrelenting and she feels compelled to comply, allowing him to wrap her in the warm, expensive wool of the dark coat, drowning her with it’s size.

There was a faint scent of what she could only vaguely identify as incense on the fabric, or maybe that was just him.

“You should go back inside. He’s not likely to return but I’d rather know you’re safe.” He answers whilst placing the phone he retrieved from his coat into an inside pocket.

“Will you be back,” she asks, “the concert...I mean, you’ve already been a few times.”

“I’ll be back in town in a week, dinner?”

“You eat?” She teased and saw the faintest flicker of amusement in his expression.

“Drinks then?”

Alisha didn’t know how to reply. She wanted to trust him but her mentor’s deep distrust of both vampires and witches had somewhat coloured her perspective more than she thought it had.

Also, she knows how angry he’ll be if he finds out that she agreed to see him again.

“Drinks?” She relented and he nods in response.

“And stop smoking.”

“Excuse me?” She stares, shocked at the command.

“I tend not to repeat myself and I know you heard me.” His stern yet patient tone stirred something in her that threw her off balance momentarily.

“Don’t you think that’s kind of controlling, we’ve literally just met.”

“An embittered violinist is not the only danger to be found in a dark alley at night.”

“Like a vampire?” She hit back at his condescension with a jibe and has to prevent the involuntary step back when he steps closer to her.

“No vampire would dare to so much as look in your direction with my scent on you.” Despite what seemed like such a lofty act of chivalry in offering his coat, the primal underpinning of marking one’s territory gave a head-spinning contradiction.

There was something strangely arousing - and infuriating - in being so viscerally claimed.

“One week.” He confirmed and held out his hand for hers. Without thinking, she obliged, watching as he raised it to his lips and bestowed a light kiss on the back of her hand.

“Oh, my phone’s inside, I don’t know my number.”

“No need, I know where to find you.” He gestured towards the stage door with a glance.

“Makes sense.” She agreed and headed back to the door.

“I am serious, about the smoking.” He warned.

“What? Are you going to put me over your knee as punishment?” She turned to deliver her jibe to his face.

“Don’t be absurd.” He answered, unfazed.

“Good.” She confirmed, feeling victorious over her push-back as she opened the door and stepped inside.

“It’s not punishment if you enjoy it!” He answered just as the door closed and locked.

By the time she swiped the security badge to unlock the door and answer his statement, she opened the door to an empty alley and found herself cursing both the vampire speed and their sense of drama.

—————

PART 2

Notes: Tame for this part but I intend for this to get hella smutty!!

[justanotherloveaffair]

The Layover (Part 2/2) - Chadwick x Reader One Shot

LINK TO PART 1

Summary:  You’re finally together but the interruptions continue.

Warnings: smut, oral sex, language, NSFW

Word Count: 6,877

Author’s Note:  Let it be known I have no idea what filming a movie or being on set is like and am sure all of those details are horribly inaccurate. 

Also I didn’t have a lot of time to edit this so I’m sure there are a ton of mistakes...

Taglist: @brianabreeze @sarahboseman @kumkaniudaku@grandadchadwick@supersizemeplz, @purple-apricots, @deliciousstreetkidcroissant, @ashanti-notthesinger, @onyour-right,  @maverickabull, @lavitabella87,  @fullonfrenzy,  @builtalongthewayside, @belauriette, @jaeee-http, @airis-paris14,  @fortuitoushappenings , @queentearra, @h-challa @90sinspiredgirl @wildaboutchrisevans@theunsweetenedtruth @stevesthot @afraiddreamingandloving @killmongerrss@nah-imjustfeelinit @tchallaholla @a-heretic-child @simplyyamberr@tacohead13 @heyauntieeee @big3gocandykahn + sorry if you didn’t want to be tagged, just ignore.

With the morning sun came perspective on just how much snow had fallen over night.

Outside of Chadwick’s place, several feet of snow blanketed the sidewalk and street, still collecting volume from the outpouring that continued from the heavens. Boot tracks cut through the middle by brave pedestrians who needed to get by. On the street, parked cars had a fresh, snowy makeover that would have looked beautiful if it wasn’t so inconvenient for their owners. 

You woke up to dim, grey light from the sun’s rays filtered through heavy clouds and still falling snow. To those outside trying to go about their day, the weather was wreaking havoc. But from the warmth of Chadwick’s bed, there was a quiet, simple beauty to it. A coziness that made you snuggle closer into his side.

His contented sigh when you did it alerted you that you weren’t the only one awake, taking in the quiet morning. You peeked up through your eyelashes for your first glimpse of Chadwick that wasn’t blanketed in darkness. 

There was just something about being in his embrace that fulfilled a deep yearning. FaceTime did the job, but robbed your senses of all that made him real - touch, colour, scent, feel. He was a work of art by a master’s hand, vivid perfection in every line and stroke.

He returned your look with the same quiet reverence and you both broke into cheesy smiles.

“Lovely morning,” you bit your lip, grinning.

Chadwick’s finger trailed a line down your spine, all the way down to your butt where he followed with his gaze. “Lovely indeed,” he murmured, his eyes glazing over as he drank in every part of you he could see. 

He slipped his finger underneath the garter around your waist. “Present for me?”

“Surprise,” you announced. You shuffled forward to kiss his prominent cupid’s bow, in the act giving his hand more access to the lower parts of your body for him to cup and squeeze. “Sorry I fell asleep baby,” you whispered. 

His palm was warm on your ass and he couldn’t resist giving it a hard squeeze. You had a delectable round ass, and anytime it was near Chadwick, his hands were on it, even in public. 

“Yeah you’ll be sorry alright,” he teased, playfully biting your bottom lip into his mouth. 

At that moment you both heard an electronic vibrating sound nearby. 

It was coming from Chadwick’s phone, face down on the nightstand which forced him to pick it up to see who it was. 

He sighed.

“I have to get this, it’s the director.”

Frowning at the interruption, you scooted down his body to hold your arms around his middle and listened intently as he answered the phone. It was so quiet in the room you could hear the entire conversation. The more you heard, the more you sat up, your mouth opening in protest hoping Chadwick would acknowledge your indignant expression.

Apparently the snowstorm had given them the perfect day for shooting one particular scene and they had to do it that day.

“No!” you hissed in the background.

“Isn’t there any way to do it another time? You know I’m off today – I wasn’t even supposed to be in town,” Chadwick was calm but stern in his response.

You could hear the voice on the other end and he wasn’t budging.

“Come on man,” Chadwick gave it one last shot, ending with a dramatic sigh and pressing his hand to his forehead. “Please. Just one day.”

Your blood boiled at the muffled “I’m sorry” in response. 

Chadwick’s lip was curled up but he kept his tone professional with a curt, “I’ll be there in an hour.”

He ended the call while you curled your hands into your face, holding back tears of anger and frustration.

You felt his palms touch the sides of your arms. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” you croaked.

“Maybe this is God’s way of punishing us for having premarital sex,” he joked and you dropped your hands to make a face at him, but found his little smile and stupid joke breaking through the cracks of your angry demeanor.

“We’ve sinned a lot,” you agreed, warming and Chadwick pulled you closer to him. 

“We’re gonna sin a lot more tonight when I finally get you to myself,” his voice rumbled in his chest. Warm kisses found their way onto your neck and along your jawline, up to your ear.

“Do you really think you’ll be gone all day? What am I gonna do here?” You pouted.

He leaned back to give you his impossible to resist pleading, puppy dog eyes. “Come with me, to set. I know it’s not exciting for you, but at least we’d be near each other.”

You huffed looking outside, every inch of you protesting having to go out in the snow and having your fantasy of spending all day with Chadwick ruined. But the idea of being alone in the house without him wasn’t appealing either.

“Okay, I’ll come.” 

You couldn’t help but smile at his excited expression. “There’s just one small problem. I literally only brought one outfit…” you looked down at your lingerie with a shrug and a suggestive smile. “I didn’t think we’d be leaving this bed.”

Lost in staring at your body, Chadwick blinked the distraction out of his eyes and his gaze slid towards the ceiling in thought. “Hmm... think you can wear one of my sweaters as a dress?”

“I guess,” you laughed and he jumped down to hunt around for something appropriate. You accepted a green knit sweater and went to the bathroom to wash up and change, deciding to keep the stockings and garter on underneath. 

Together you descended the stairs and grab your jackets. Your scarf was dry and you wrapped it around your neck multiple times, covering the lower half of your face. Chadwick took similar precautions against the cold and also gave you a pair of his gloves to wear, even though they were giant on you.

A wall of snow met your mostly bare legs on the sidewalk and you yelped, trying to seek out the path others had made to avoid the snow touching you, while Chadwick began clearing the powder off of his car. 

Inside the car, the leather seats were cold and you could see your breath. Chadwick started the car while you rubbed your hands together. Once you joined traffic, it was slow going with the slippery driving conditions. 

He drove into an uncovered parking lot while you observed the nearby action. Living in New York, you were used to seeing movie sets. Big bright lights, backdrops, film cables, production assistants in bright vests, craft services tents and trailers for hair, makeup and wardrobe, as well as private ones for the bigger stars.

Thankfully, that included Chadwick who quickly led you from the car over to a large white trailer.

“You okay to hang out in here for a bit while I head to wardrobe?” 

You looked around at the sleek interior with a little private bar, books, a TV and a comfy bed and nodded.

Chadwick slid his big hands over your cool cheeks, his warm breath gusting over your lips as he kissed you. “I love you. I’m sorry.”

“I know,” you smiled. “I’ll be right here. Go on,” you kissed his forehead and watched his face until he closed the door and left you to wander around, once again snooping all over Chadwick’s other space away from you. 

You found an interesting book in his pile and were just getting absorbed in its pages when a gentle knock came at the door, followed by the door opening. Hovering in the gap was Chadwick’s immaculate face, his beard freshly groomed and his skin flawless. 

“Hey, did you want to come with? I’m heading over.”

“Oh, yes,” you jumped to action, pulling your arms through your coat and following with the scarf and gloves. 

As you followed Chadwick, you couldn’t help but think how terribly ordinary making movie magic was in reality. You took it all in as you navigated towards a black tent where a cluster of people who weren’t standing in the elements, actively setting up lighting equipment or cameras, were chatting near black chairs.

You felt a little shy even though everyone was totally normal and friendly as Chadwick introduced you around with his hand on the small of your back. Once the round of introductions were made, he turned to you.

“There’s a tent over there with some food, why don’t you go get something to eat? When you get back you can have my chair and watch.”

Your gaze followed where he was pointing and at the prospect of coffee and food, you lit up. You hadn’t eaten since you left New York and the coffee withdrawal headache was starting to kick in.

“Okay,” you said obediently and he leaned down to kiss your cheek, giving you a wink before he gently shoved you towards the white tent. You gathered your coat around you and half walked, half jogged between tents, marvelling at how the snow was continuing to fall.

The whole shooting area was in an abandoned street, where the entrance was being tightly controlled by police and production assistants to keep it clear from the public. An empty brick building was the backdrop for the scene they were shooting, which you watched with interest while chewing on a dry muffin.  Chadwick’s distinct frame was easy to spot and you watched him perform the same few movements and lines over and over until your large coffee was long gone.

The longer you were still, the colder you felt, even after you took shelter under the black tent with a fresh coffee. The frigid air on your mostly bare legs made you shiver so bad your knees were knocking together.

You started to feel your bravery and patience slipping until finally, you saw him walking back to you after the director yelled “CUT!” 

When he got close enough to you to see your body shaking, he frowned with concern and closed the distance at a jog.

“You’re freezing,” he grabbed your face.

“I’m o-oka-a-a-ay,” your teeth chattered.

“TAKE 20!” You heard a loud voice behind you, which was followed by relieved groans all around. Chadwick turned back to you as people vacated their chairs and wandered over to the white tent in search of lunch.

He cast a look over his shoulder at the retreating crowd and then turned to you, lowering his face next to yours. “Come with me,” he whispered, finding your hands and tugging you along with him away from everyone, towards his trailer.

The way Chadwick was hurrying had you suppressing a smile at what you were sure was about to happen.

The trailer door slammed shut behind you, closing behind you the cold, the wind, and the rest of the world.

As you were gripped and lifted onto a high surface, a grunt escaped you as your butt made rough contact. There was no time for questions or protest. Chadwick was already sucking on your pulse point and groaning at the taste of your skin, the feel of his tongue and lips making your body temperature rise in an instant. He dumped off his jacket, aiming and throwing it behind him, and when his hands came back to you, they began working you out of yours.

“Fuck, Y/N....” his lips broke from your skin as he ogled the sight of his hands running up the sides of your stockings, discovering the ribbons of your garter belt you were still wearing. “So sexy,” he hissed, fingering the thin straps. 

At the touch of his hot hands on your upper thigh, you arched towards him, rubbing your silk-covered center against his pants. It occurred to you that you were grinding on his character’s costume and if Chadwick didn’t care, neither did you. 

It had been too many weeks since the last time and you were overcome with need, so you weren’t exactly feeling delicate and careful about removing his clothes. Chadwick had to take over from your ripping and pulling to remove the pants and button up shirt of his costume as rapidly and efficiently as he could. While he did, you lifted the sweater over your head and savoured Chadwick’s expression at seeing you braless underneath.

He sighed on your neck. “I wish we had more time,” he moaned with regret. Your legs circled his hips and pulled his naked lower half against you, relishing in the press of steely warmth of his trapped dick against your panties. 

“Plenty of time later,” you murmured as he nibbled your neck and began to grind himself against you. Gratifying yourself on the animal need for each other was all you would have time for right now. You reached down and pulled your panties aside, and Chadwick was there, holding himself still to guide himself into you. “Do it Daddy,” you whispered encouragingly in his ear, “Give me what I’ve been missing.”

You both groaned loudly when he thrust suddenly forward. Your nails bit into his back while you whimpered at all those inches you weren’t used to anymore. 

“You okay baby?” His hips grinded slightly in a circle, deep inside you.

“Oh, yeah” you breathed out, awed by the sensations he gave you that made your toys, your only companion for the last month, so disappointing in comparison. 

Once Chadwick was sure you were fully adjusted, he didn’t hold back. His large hands gripped your body to keep you still and all you had to do was hold on for the ride. He soon had your breasts bouncing, your voice straining in high pitched gasps, your skin slapping against his as he grunted and gave you his all.

There was no way the trailer wasn’t rocking from side to side, nor was it possible anyone in the vicinity weren’t hearing your screams. 

Chadwick’s face was between your breasts, his fingertips clutching on your skin pulling you towards him and you were sure you were going to pass out from the intense fucking. Your orgasm was within reach, with just a slight move of your hips, his angle started to grind your clit and your hands flew to his face, your mouth dropping open in a O. 

“You gonna cum on this dick, huh? You gon cum for Daddy?” You heard him grunt and you started to unravel the second you heard his words. 

“Ye—eeeesssss!!” You, Chadwick, and everyone nearby were privy to your loud cry of pleasure. Holding your thighs around him, he slammed deep in you and unloaded as your inner muscles gripped him. His sounds of pleasure joined yours, the trailer filling with the intermingling cries of relief from two lovers who’d been separated too long.

You eased your body backwards, each breath coming almost painfully from effort and Chadwick’s eyes twinkled down at you. You both smiled around your ragged breathing, a shared moment of connection you couldn’t wait to repeat later.

The moment ended too soon. He stepped back and quickly dressed, the twenty minute break almost up. You had no interest in getting dressed again yourself and going back out into the cold, especially now that the trailer was steamy from sex.

“You okay if I hang out in here?” You swayed your stocking-clad legs side to side.

Chadwick paused in his haste to kiss you and run his fingers over your cheek, while his other hand stole a squeeze of your ass. “Course. It’s freezing out there. I’ll come get you when we’re done.”

“I’ll be waiting,” you nipped his lip. 

When he was gone, you pulled the sweater back on, grabbed his book and wandered over to the bed, where you collapsed with happy satisfaction and drifted off into a nap after only reading a few sentences.

You were amazed to find that after waking up from a two hour nap, Chadwick still hadn’t come back. The first thing you noticed when you sat up was that the snow outside had stopped. 

You considered going back outside, and ultimately decided to but only because you already missed his face.

You shrugged on your coat, and returning outside you could have sworn it had gotten colder, even though the snow had stopped and the clouds were starting to clear. 

From the looks of it, the production was still in full swing. From getting to know this strange world through Chadwick, you appreciated your office job more than ever. Standing outside in the cold all day, waiting for hours and shooting take after take was much more bland and boring than anyone realized. 

You spotted him at the director’s tent, sitting in his chair watching a monitor with narrowed eyes that opened in surprise and delight when he saw you. 

Even for as long as you’d been together, giddy excitement still possessed you at the sight of him. Your heart pounded that much faster as the smile spread across his face, and his arms reached to snatch you up and pull you into his lap.

You laughed, feeling a bit self conscious at the attention as he nuzzled you, his lap already warming the backside of your body.

“We’re almost done Y/N,” he murmured at your ear, making you tingle. “Just watching some footage. Have a good nap?”

“I did,” you accepted his snuggles and attention while in front of you, a monitor attached to expensive looking portable equipment was showing scenes shot that day. Surrounding you were a handful of people sitting in chairs or standing in a huddle which thankfully blocked out some of the wind. You were the only non-industry attendee and nobody questioned why you were there. 

A few minutes later, the director stood from his chair and turned around, cupping his hands around his mouth. “Alright, great stuff today everyone, that’s a wrap!” He clapped his hands together, prompting cheers and applause in a wide circle all around you. You and Chadwick joined in more enthusiastically than anyone, because it meant you could finally go home and fuck again.

As you were climbing down from the chair with Chadwick’s hand firmly in yours, the director turned to him. 

“Oh hey Chadwick, I was hoping we could chat a bit – I don’t mean to take more time away from your lady, but can you spare a few minutes?”

You felt his body stiffen next to yours, as you did the same. 

He hesitated and looked to you, searching your face for either disapproval or permission. You couldn’t dictate either way, so you settled for a noncommittal shrug.

“Ok, sure, I have a few minutes,” he responded with emphasis on the words a few minutes. 

“Promise it won’t be long. Can I just show you something I noticed?” he started walking back to the monitors and when his face was turned, Chadwick made you smile with one of his patented eye rolls so sassy it used every muscle in his face. 

You lingered nearby watching everyone around you pack up equipment and half-listened to the low, serious tones of Chadwick’s intense conversation, not really paying attention to the words. They were still talking as film cables were rolled up onto giant wheels, loaded into the back of white trucks that soon drove away. The debate continued until hardly anyone remained and you were once again shivering, teeth chattering at the cold breeze swirling up your coat.

You were just about to head back to the trailer to seek warm shelter when finally their conversation wrapped up.

Chadwick turned to you and immediately wrapped his arms around your shivering body. “I’m sorry…” he looked remorsefully down at you. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“Y—y-o-u k-know of a-a-n-y wa-a-ys to w-w-warm me u-up?” You tried to sound suggestive and sexy but your chattering jaws made you stutter and you both laughed. 

“I do,” he answered smoothly, wrapping one arm around your side as you both began to walk to his car. “I’ve got a hot bath with your name on it when we get home.”

Under the glow of street lamps, you walked hand in hand from the car to his front door step. He let you in first, then firmly shut out the cold, frigid air you’d been standing in for half the day. The chill had set in to your bones, a damp, wet cold typical of the East coast winter that was hard to shake.

Chadwick hung your jackets, then spun you around so you were facing the stairs, his warm hands on your shoulders and the tickle of his beard at your ear as his honey-smooth voice murmured into your neck, “Now go up and get naked in the bathroom. Daddy’s gonna run you a hot bath.” 

He gently smacked your behind while you bit back a grin. Finally, you were going to have him all to yourself. 

You hurried up the stairs and you both made a beeline for the bathroom. He bent to turn on the water of the deep, jetted tub while you whipped the sweater over your head.

“I’ve been dying to use this tub,” he thought out loud. “Been thinking of all kinds of ways I wanna have you in here.” 

“Oh? Like what?” You raised your eyebrow, pleased at hearing how much he thought about you.

He looked over his shoulder from where he was kneeling next to the porcelain tub, a hungry look raking over your body from your toes to your chest. “You’re about to find out,” he smiled. 

Right now, you couldn’t think of anything better than hot water and Chadwick’s glistening, naked, wet skin surrounding you.

You raised your foot onto the edge of the tub, presenting your stocking covered calves and thigh. “Will you do the honors?” You tugged on the garter strap, pulling it loose from the top of the lace.

Chadwick’s smiling lips met your upper thigh where he left a dirty french kiss with plenty of tongue as his fingers peeled back the silk until it was rolled all the way down your leg. He gently lifted your other leg to do the same thing, his teeth raking slightly on your sensitive inner thigh and you shivered. 

The tub was half full already and he quickly finished undressing. It had been too long since you’d last seen Chadwick naked. Your eyes went right to where his abdomen tapered down into a V, to his thick, beautiful dick. You were longing to treat it with the attention and love it deserved. 

He stepped over the lip of the tub and reached for you. With both your hands in his, you daintily stepped into the hot water, and followed his lead to sit down as he arranged his limbs behind you, encouraging you to rest back against his chest. 

As soon as you were in place, using his shoulder as your headrest, with his much bigger thighs and knees next to yours and the water covering both of your bodies, he reached out to crank off the tap and the water slowed to a drip. At that moment, true contentment finally settled into your bones. Your previously freezing skin was now warm and sweating and Chadwick had his arms crossed over your belly, hugging you tight, his breath next to your ear. You had the whole night ahead with him. Everything was right with the world. 

All you heard was the occasional plink of water from the tap, Chadwick’s breathing and your own. Silence and contentment took you both. There was plenty of time for sex, right now was about the intimacy of your bodies, reconnecting in a steamy cocoon. 

Your fingertips traced the skin of his arms and he responded with kisses on your neck. Occasionally he would make the slightest little moan or sigh that you felt through your whole body. You wanted to pinch yourself, thinking about this moment where you were finally in his arms after missing it for so long.

As if hearing your thoughts, he murmured, “I’ve missed you so much.” 

You hugged his arms under the water and he squeezed back. “I’m useless without you. I’ve been a wreck.” 

“I can’t wait to come home.” He lifted his hand out of the water, spreading his fingers and you pressed your palm to his. Chadwick’s fingers were so long, they completely engulfed yours. 

He lowered his hand onto your body and cupped your soft breast, the silky feel of his touch making your eyes lull closed in pleasure. He wasn’t satisfied with one breast and soon filled his other palm, gently massaging both. Your nipples became hard and he lazily toyed with them, pinching in teasing passes. Immediately, arousal started to electrify your core and make you want more of his fingers elsewhere, and your legs fell open to encourage it. 

One hand broke away to travel down your belly towards your crotch. No matter how many years with him passed, the anticipation for the touch of Chadwick’s hand on you still made you lose your breath. His fingers slid down until he covered your pussy fully. He pressed down firmly and rubbed up and down in a flat handed gesture that made your clit sing with each pass. You grabbed Chadwick’s thighs and grinded up against the pressure as you gasped. He knew your body well and what it took to make you come fast, and was close to giving you your first of the night.

Confident he had the rhythm down, he let his other hand roam and palm your breasts while his lips explored your neck, fanning your wet skin with hot breath mixed in with his groans. Hearing his voice in your ear was a weakness of yours. You held on to him, happily succumbing to his controlled, skillful touches. He was rubbing faster now, still grinding in little circles while your hips moved with him.

It was almost too easy to reach your first peak. As you were feeling the sweet spread of bliss in your body, he added to the sensations by sliding two of his fingers inside and fucking you slow, drawing your orgasm out to twice as long and intense as you bucked on him. Chadwick had turned making you cum into a beautiful art, each time different and spectacular. 

As you finally stopped quaking under his hand, you rubbed his thighs and knees and became aware of how hard he was behind you, pressed into your back. All you could think about was taking him inside you and you didn’t care if you were in the bath, on the floor, or anywhere else.

You began to reach for him when he stopped your wrist. “Hold up. There’s something I wanna do first.” His fingers, wrapped around your wrist, held you still as his hot mouth moved to your ear to breathe, “Will you let me lick that sweet pussy from the back?” 

Your stomach tightened. “Fuck,” you swore around clenched teeth.

“That a yes?” He asked breathily, starting to guide your arms forward and water began shifting around your bodies as he started to move you into place.

“I don’t… yes.. okay,” you said dumbly and allowed Chadwick to arrange you in the tub so you were on all fours, your ass above the water, right in front of him and your head was hovering just above the surface in your kneeling position.

You felt how slippery your pussy was as his two fingers slid back inside. Chadwick groaned and bit the apple of your cheek, then repeated it on the other as his fingers gave you some of the penetration you needed, but not all. Wanting more of him, you pushed back, and water sloshed around your bodies at your greedy movements. Chadwick spanked your butt, not hard, but loud enough to bounce off the tile walls of the small space.

His fingers withdrew to spread your cheeks open and you felt a soft, wide tongue at your entrance, teasing you with little flicks. You weren’t prepared and made a loud whimpering sound, your hips stilling immediately as you waited breathlessly for the next touch. He gripped your thighs and pulled you back on his tongue, plunging right inside of you. You cried in choked surprise, “Chadwiiickk fuuuuuuck!” 

He did it again, fucking his tongue in and out of your hole firmly but slowly, so you felt everything and then he began circling over your pussy in wide laps. “Shhittttt!” you squealed. It felt so luxurious, and you pictured how he looked, face grinding into your pussy, his lips and tongue sucking and swirling and your cream dripping all over his gorgeous face. 

Each pass of his tongue overwhelmed you and you struggled to stay on your shaking limbs, above the water.

“You need to stop,” you gasped and crawled forward, breaking your bodies apart so you could turn around. 

Chadwick wore a lazy smirk along with your juices glistening on his face and beard. You crawled over to attack his lips with yours, licking your flavour from him ravenously as your hands shot down to his dick. 

In your shifting around, you must have kicked the plug out because you both heard the sucking sound of water draining around you and the water level began to recede. 

“Whoops,” you grinned, but not really feeling sorry about it, because you were done with the bath anyway. 

Chadwick rose up to his full height, taking you up with him.

You both negotiated your way carefully out of the slippery tub to dry yourselves and each other off with towels until you were dry enough not to drip all over the carpet on your way to the bed. 

The towels were discarded on the floor, and you both climbed up on the bed, turning to each other with lust and excitement. 

Chadwick cupped your cheeks and kissed along your bottom lip. “What do you want baby? Sweet and slow? Hard? Fast?” His lip lifted in a smile, “want me to send you back home with a bruised ass tomorrow?”

You laughed, cherishing his face with your hands.

“I know this is boring,” you looking up at him with hopeful eyes, “but I just want you on top of me. I swear we can do kinky shit the rest of the night,” you followed quickly. 

He lifted your knuckles to his lips. “We’ve got all night and we can fuck however we want.”  His eyes settled on yours with a playful intensity. “I’m not even close to tired so I hope you’re ready.”

Heat throbbed in your body at the thought. 

“I’m ready to go all night, I don’t even plan to sleep.” You proclaimed with pride.

“You talk a big game,” he smirked. “I’ll be reminding you of that if you try and tap out on me later….” 

“I’ve never done such a thing,” you lifted your chin, enjoying the banter while your hands were roaming his upper torso.

He looked upwards in recollection, his hands stroking your arms, “I remember a certain Saturday you promised a full day of sex until you claimed I broke your pussy after two rounds.”

“Chadwick!” You squealed, recalling the day perfectly and shoving him as he rolled his eyes. “My pussy was sore because your giant dick had no mercy that day, I swear you took some performance enhancing drugs that morning. That erection just would not go away and you were pounding me like a sex doll for hours.”

“No drugs needed with you around,” he said sweetly and you narrowed your eyes.

“That hardness was unnatural, Chadwick.”

He shrugged, a secretive smile spreading over his face. “Alright, I took something that morning … just to see what would happen.”

“Chad, you fuckin’… liar!” Your expression was a mixture of shock and amusement. He lifted your legs suddenly and you squealed, laughing as you bounce landed onto the mattress and he immediately laid down to cover you.

At the press of his body you began to sigh as his hands started moving over you as yours did the same. The mood quickly turned changed and you reached for him, eager to be taken while he looked in your eyes. 

You didn’t stay up all night, but you damn near tried. 

It was way past midnight when you both succumbed to exhaustion. After  intimate, face to face sex and a languid period of recovery, you took advantage of his energy to have him in as many positions as you could think of. Your feet on his chest as he plunged deep in you. On your knees. Flat and face down on the mattress, trapped under his heavy weight while he plundered you. And on, and on, until you had only the strength to pull each other close and fall asleep.

You awoke the next morning with the disappointment that it was Sunday.

In the warm daylight of the early morning, you had lazy morning sex, in a spooning position where Chadwick drew out your orgasmic gasps holding your thighs apart with his face in your neck, whispering softly in your ear as you came.

Neither of you wanted to acknowledge the impending goodbye and made the morning last as long as possible. You had coffee on the couch, with Chadwick sitting on the floor next to you plucking at the strings of his guitar. 

When it came time to finally address that it was time to go, Chadwick helped you get your small bag of things together, a cloud of melancholy settling over you both.

He drove you to the airport under a bright, winter sun beaming in a clear sky down onto the frost-covered landscape, making the snow twinkle so brightly you both had to squint. If only you’d had this weather one day earlier, the film production would have left your boyfriend alone.

Noticing the familiar stares in the airport, you tried to insist Chadwick turn back before there was a mob for photos and autographs, but he kept your fingers enclosed in his as he waited with you through check in. Only when you reached a point he couldn’t continue at your side did you turn to hug and kiss each other goodbye.

“Hey,” you smiled, tracing his cheekbone with your finger as it sharpened from his smile, “maybe next time let’s tell each other if we’re planning a surprise visit, yeah?”

“Then technically it’s not a surprise, but I see your point,” he agreed, kissing your finger. “It all worked out in the end, though. Don’t think I didn’t notice you limping around today,” his eyes glimmered.

Your thighs, calves and butt were burning and sore, and there were other souvenirs, little bite marks, on your body under your clothes.

You laughed, cupping his face and feeling an overwhelming surge of love in your heart.

“Another four weeks until you’re home.” You pressed a kiss to his lips. 

“I know.” He let out a sigh. “Call me when you get in.”

You nodded and forced a smile, trying not to think of the next four weeks of loneliness waiting for you at home as you hugged goodbye.

[12freddofrogs]

An episode of my ideal Batfamily TV Show

Over the past few weeks I’ve been writing about how I’d make a Batfamily show. It got somewhat longer than I expected. I’m still not entirely sure how I feel about the dotpoint writing style, but at this point I’ve invested far too much effort not to start posting.

This is an extract from Chapter/Season One, aka the ‘Dick is Robin’ era. Specifically the ‘Dick is seventeen and starting to chafe under Bruce’s leadership, beginning to plan a move to Bludhaven’ era. The formatting doesn’t quite translate to tumblr, but the full chapter is available on AO3. Please check it out - other episodes include the time Batgirl accidentally told the internet Batman’s breath smells like pepperoni, has to frantically make sure he never finds out; a full-length flashback episode that draws paralles between how Dick met Bruce and how growing up changed their dynamics; Dick trying to work out the best way to invite Babs to prom; and a glimpse into what the general perspective of Bats are when Gotham City puts on a play about them. Lots of Batfamily fluff, and in the coming weeks another five seasons/chapters will be added to play around with character dynamics for everyone.

Season One, Episode Thirteen - Birdcage

One episode revolves around Dick Grayson, the billionaire ward of Bruce Wayne, getting kidnapped.

 Bruce is going frantic.

 He can’t even leave because he has a dozen police with him at all times. It’s clearly killing him that Batman can’t go.

Batgirl on the case, though.

Bruce is trying to whisper tips about the detective work into his phone without letting Detective Montoya see him. Batgirl grumbles that she knows what she’s doing.

Dick, meanwhile, is very bored.

He’s tied up on a chair, trying to entertain himself by untangling the knots. Whenever the kidnappers glance at him, he goes still again, not letting them realise his hands are free.

He makes it into a game, waving and pulling faces whenever they look away.

They don’t catch him at this, but when moving him to a new location, they put a blindfold on.

Naturally, Dick takes this off as part of his game. Just slightly, only barely enough that he can peek.

 It has the added bonus of letting him see the kidnapper’s faces once they remove their ski-masks.

Less of a bonus when one of them comes over and sees the hint of Dick’s iris peeking through a gap.

The one that finds it curses violently, and tries to pull it back to where it should be.

“Just take the whole thing off; it’s not worth it if he’s already seen our faces.”

The kidnappers call Bruce.

He’s sitting in the police precinct, waiting impatiently and frustrated that he can’t do anything.

 When he realises who it is he waves over Gordon, putting it on speaker phone.

 “I’m here. Where’s Dick — is he okay?” Bruce asks, an odd mix of frantic and controlled.

 “He’s fine. Have you got our money?”

  Gordon cuts in. “We want proof of life, first.”

  “Alright, fine.”

 Back in the warehouse, the phone is jammed to Dick’s ear. “Hi, Bruce.”

 “Dick! Are you okay? Have they hurt you?”

 “I’m fine.” Dick glares at the kidnappers.

“For the time being,” the lead kidnapper corrects, taking the phone back. “Have you got our money, Mr Wayne?”

  “Yes, yes,” Bruce’s voice comes over the phone. “I’ll send it through now, just don’t hurt Dick.”

 The kidnappers wait until their laptop announces that money has been paid into the account. The one sitting on the laptop nods at the one with the phone, while the third waits in the corner.

  “Well, it looks like that’s all come through,” the lead kidnapper says. “Which means I’m actually really sorry about this, Mr. Wayne.”

  Dick immediately stiffens. The boredom vanishes from his face.

 “See, if all had gone according to the plan, we would have handed him over now. But unfortunately, someone put the blindfold on him wrong, and he saw our faces.”

 Dick’s eyes widen as the man takes out a gun and hefts it at him. “Wait—”

 “Please understand, this is just protocol.”

The scene switches back to the precinct as a gunshot echoes.

 BANG!

“No!” Bruce jumps to his feet, so hard that he nearly overturns the table. 

Gordon goes white, and the rest of the police listening in look alarmed.

The phone keeps playing, sound of something crashing, a fight going on off-screen.

Shot changes back to the warehouse.

A bullet is embedded in the wall.

Dick is standing in the middle of three unconscious men, breathing heavily. “Please understand, this was just protocol,” he mutters venomously.

 He picks up the gun, unloading it before placing it safely on the table. Then he turns around to focus on the squawking phone.

  “Richard, are you there?”

  “Dick, Dick, talk to me!”

  “What is happening?”

 He almost takes it, before he pulls back, glances at the unconscious men around him.

Bruce at the precinct is still looking sick before a new voice hits the speakerphone.

 “Batman, the phone’s still going.” The voice sounds muffled, as if whoever’s speaking is halfway across the room. “Could you maybe get it… nope, heaven forbid you ever talk to anyone. Fine, I’ll do it.” The voice clears up as the phone is picked up. “Heya, this is Robin. Yes, that Robin. Don’t worry, Grayson’s safe.”

  Bruce lets out a long slow breath, and needs to clutch at the desk to remain standing. Colour begins to return to his face.

 Gordon takes the phone. “Hi, Robin. Gordon here. Can we talk to Richard?”

  Camera changes back to Dick, holding the phone.

 “Heya, Commish!” ‘Robin’ says it cheerier than would be natural, his voice slightly higher than usual. “Sure thing, just give me a second. The kid’s, um, throwing up. But you know the first attempted murder’s always the hardest.”

  “No rush,” Gordon says in the precinct, checking with his eyes to see if Bruce is okay with that. Bruce nods. “Can you tell me what happened?”

  “Nothing special, really,” Robin says, grimacing despite his cheery tone. “Batman and I tracked down these guys, and right on time. Stepped in before it could get ugly. We’ll leave them tied up for you at the scene.”

  He reaches for his belt, realises he’s not wearing it, and goes for the rope that had attached him to the chair.

  “Okay. Where are you?” Gordon’s voice is mildly scratchy — the signal isn’t great.

 The question makes Dick freeze. He glances at the window, and can only see that they’re several storeys above the ground.

 The shot changes back to the station as ‘Robin’ stumbles for an answer. “We are… hold on, one second I’m talking … just a minute… okay, fine, here.” There’s a stumble of movement as if the phone was being passed from hand to hand, and then a new voice comes on.

  “Bruce?” The ‘Dick Grayson’ voice is quieter than ‘Robin’, soft and very shaken and not as high pitched. “Are you there?”

 “I’m here, Dickie,” Bruce says immediately. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m — I’m fine. Robin and Batman got here just in time.” Dick’s voice hesitates. In the warehouse, he’s struggling to tie up one of the men who’s semi-conscious. “Robin was so cool when he broke in, he just took the guy out like that!”

In the precinct, Bruce can’t help but roll his eyes. But he’s smiling nonetheless.

Dick moves onto tying up next kidnapper, holding the phone at arm’s length. “You weren’t too bad yourself with that flip out of the way, kid,” he says as Robin. “Where did you learn to do that?”

 Switches back to ‘Dick’. “The circus.’

 ‘Robin’: “Well, nothing beats Bat training, but that was pretty cool.”

Batgirl bursts in through the window.

 She lands on the ground in a perfect spring, and then pauses to notice the unconscious men.

“Di—”

  Dick shakes his head frantically, striking one hand across his throat. “Hey, Batgirl!” he says gleefully, his voice contrasting with his expression. “Sorry, I can’t talk right now. I’m on the phone with the Commish, talking about how me and Batman saved Grayson.”

“Right.” Batgirl nods once, relaxing against the wall. “Sorry I’m late.”

“No sweat. Batman and Robin are capable of doing this ourselves.” He winces when Batgirl raises an eyebrow. “Sorry Commish, gotta go, we’ll drop the Grayson kid off for you on the ground.”

He hangs up.

“ ‘Batman and Robin are capable of doing this ourselves’?”

“I know, I know, don’t mock me.” Dick rubs his hand over his forehead. “It was the first thing I thought of.”

They decide Batgirl should deliver Dick back to safety.

Batgirl takes the phone back, texts an address to the precinct, and hangs up.

They finish locking up the criminals, and then wait at the window until they see a patrol car approaching.

“Alright. Let’s go.” Batgirl opens the window and holds out her arms to Dick.

“What – what are you doing?”

 “Well, you can’t exactly swing down yourself, Boy Wonder.”

“Oh. Right.”

Dick is awkward about pressing himself so close into Batgirl, wrapping his arms around her neck securely. “Is this okay? Am I hurting you?”

Batgirl doesn’t even answer, just wraps one arm around his back and then other to her grappling hook.

 They swing out the window. Dick gasps and clutches tighter without entirely meaning to.

They land behind the police car.

“Wow, that is terrifying when it’s not your line,” Dick whispers in her ear.

“Go on.” Batgirl pushes him forward to the police rushing towards them.

Dick obligingly untangles himself from her and sprints towards them, collapsing theatrically to whimper when he reaches the patrol.

Bruce arrives later in Gordon’s car.

Dick is sitting in the patrol vehicle, a shock blanket draped around his shoulders when he sees his guardian.

He jumps up and runs forward, hugging Bruce.

Bruce hugs him back.

Later, they’re driving back home.

It’s the first time the two have been alone since Dick got kidnapped.

“In all honesty. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sure. I’m fine,” Dick says dismissively. There’s no sign of the fact he’d been crying moments before he got into the seat.

“Good. I’m glad.” Bruce hesitates. “I was… worried, when I heard that gun go off.”

“Didn’t think I could handle it?” Dick challenges.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

Dick’s jaw tenses, but he relaxes into the chair, finally safe. “Yeah. I know.”

Full Fic Available on AO3.

[kokoronopikuseru]

Review: Pixelogue

A little late to post this, but I intend to share details and reflect on the editing of Pixelogue, in hope that it will help editors and organizers who need advice. (If you’re not interested in editing info, just skip to the last section)

Details are in Chronological Order -

# Software:

I designed everything from scratch in AE, with all the stock plugins. I had to relearn everything I used to know about AE; I last used it extensively in Pixelophobia years ago and furthermore, I wasn’t really used to the new CC interface. I had to seek tutorials for every simple effect I wanted to execute. It sure was difficult for me. For english speaking editors, this is probably your main tool if you intend to do simple video animations and graphics.

# Planning: Song Choice

I had intended to use a Korean Indie Track as stated in the collab details page. Sadly, the music really didn’t fit the music. I spent about 3 days rearranging the clips in every permutation I knew. I didn't really manage to find an arrangement that suited the clips. The unfortunate reality for editors is that we are usually at the mercy of the submission clips. I finally chose something Tigres’ described as “Shawn Wasabi-like”. It was a major challenge for my editing since I wasn’t exactly used to creating work that is colourful or cheerful rhythm-wise. I had to have major re-planning if I wanted it to work out.

# Editing: Draft

My process for editing clips always starts from arranging the combos. I used Vegas for this since, well, it IS a video editor, and it is pretty fast in processing clips. For learning purposes, here is the link of my very first draft (https://youtu.be/kRDwXTnxXGw). I think it’s necessary to spend a longer time at this stage, so as to visualize how its gonna turn out. And of course, to ensure that this is the flow of the CV you really wanted. By this stage, you should also have planned out the fillers (as denoted by the empty instances in the draft) and roughly how long your intro and outro will be. 

# Editing: Intro

I didn’t really want to make something too kawaii. But yet, I can’t really escape the colourful imagery I imagined the intro to be. I compromised and made something that alternates between some modern TV visuals and old school TV visuals. 

Modern TV; I was greatly inspired by those colour wipes that vloggers used for their youtube channels. It was one of those common and simple transitions that AE users exploit regularly. I found ways to incorporate it in a radial and a rotating wipe. The font animations were all plugins in AE that I found. I wasn’t gonna edit every alphabet like the previous CVs I made.

Old School TV; I took most of my inspiration from the adjustment knobs on analog TV. I found that it goes well with the subtle static noise in the music track. Hence I employed selection circles, and drew an actual knob (not sure if you guys realised that was what it was supposed to be). I also warp bulge the static background as well as the words, to emulate the concave glass distortion present in analog TVs. 

And in the final burst of images, I made the clips alternate between 16:9 and 4:3, just to show the juxtaposition between modern and old school.

I really hope people notice all these small details. I didn't feel it was impactful enough, but I guess these are probably cool facts for those who are interested.

# Editing: Combos

I always render my CV in a 16:9 resolution, simply because it IS more pleasing to the eye now that computer monitors are no longer square. My preferences have yet to change. However, with regards to the clips, I have read enough indirect feedback that the cropping wasn’t something that most people liked. I took this criticism pretty seriously, and thought it was time for me to hop on the bandwagon, to try the new-age style of CV editing.

I had to put in much more effort to retain a 4:3 combo in a 16:9 visual space, with an additional need to create a secondary background layer. But because of this decision, it gives me more freedom to explore options of panning and perspective movements.

I create a blurred and expanded duplicate of every combo as a background. I thought it was great that I could retain the original colours and give the clips a “floaty field”. No one has done something like this before, so it was instantly cool and hip. It also gives more room and potential to play around with the transitions too. Eg, fading the background before the clip (transition from Tigres to popte). Interestingly, all the backgrounds all have different properties, namely position, scale and degree of gaussian blur. The reason was really because some clips were seizure inducing due to their extensive movements. I thought it would be nice to vary all of them, which adds a unique aesthetic touch to all the combos.

I am pretty new to editing in a 3Dimensional Space and camera tracking. I was intending to do something as simple and fluid like Talentica Neue. Well, I learnt it wasn’t as simple as I thought. I had about 5-6 Parameters of camera movements, and frankly till now, don’t really know what each one does. I highly suggest for editors who wanna try 3Dimensional camera tracking, watch more tutorials and try simple practice projects. Learning how to utilize it properly will extensively improve your editing game.

Oh yeah, remember to use the graph editor for EVERYTHING. Acceleration and Decelerations have too much aesthetic value to miss out on.

# Editing: Outro

Because I have spent so much time on all other parts of the CV, it’s only responsible for me to put in some effort on an outro which I am usually way too lazy to make. Yeah guys, it’s important to make outros too guys. I used the same warping and television static effect from the intro to retain a sense of continuity. It's simple and nice, I liked it.

# Combos; (Warning: Difficult to Stomach) 

I’m gonna be a little too frank about this- the quality of combos I received were lower than what I usually work with (I love my UPSB submissions tho). I guess this is the huge downside of organizing sign-up CVs to an international community that is slowly dying and regressing. It was even harder when most didn’t submit on time. I had only 7 clips by the deadline. I wanna admit that I had moments regretting that I was organizing Pixelogue as a majority-signup CV. Some of the filtered combos either didn’t fit the style of CV (really sorry padrace) or was just bad due to the lack of effort. Mostly bad.

But here’s the heart of the matter, this might really reflect the standard of the international community. 

I’m not sure if I am the only one who feels this way, but I feel that most of the current international CVs can be separated into two groups, the JEB invites, and the rest of us. Don’t get me wrong, I do acknowledge the high standards JEB spinners deliver. But I’m not comfortable with the fact that they don’t submit better materials since their combos are guaranteed to be featured, and mainly because the quality of an international CV is often a 50/50 hit or miss (could be lower). Who can blame them really. Even so, their names are usually enough to make the lineup look great. 

> Pixelation was an all JEB sign up CVs. Pixelarium, Pixelophobia, Pixelography, Pixeholic were invites-only CVs, a mix of international and JEB guys. <

Most of my CVs have a JEB last spinner or a JEB dominant lineup towards the end. (coffeelucky 6th is also guilty of this). Clearly, you can see how much we use japanese invites as a way to boost the “quality” and hype of our projects. Yeah, sucks to admit it, but I am sure these are common sentiments shared with many of us international CV editors for a pretty long time.

Well, its not something I’m really contented with. In fact, I don’t like the way this becomes the norm. 

More recently, around the time I released “Express 12.1.18”, I really wanted to believe in us - the international community veterans, the borderline pen spinning retirees, that we can perform. I didn’t wanna believe that the international community was any inferior. I finally felt ready to edit something solely from our pool of people. I can accept that I don’t have to rely on japanese invitations to superficially enhance the CV. We have enough to make something great ourselves. 

I fondly assert that the international community does NEED this kind of confidence. Otherwise, we will always be second rated. Seen as the lesser beings. Y’all JapEn tiering meme-lords know what I’m talking about. I personally  needed this to prove to myself that it will work out for us even when the scene looks pretty shitty now. And yes, I did feel better after this.

# Conclusion

It didn’t really garner much attention especially when there was a flood of CVs being released around the time it was released. But I do love it a lot. It’s made up of familiar spinners that I cherish, good combos that I’m thankful for, and finally, an editing that drained my whole summer holiday away. Yeah, I do love it a lot. Definitely one of my proudest work.

[bizarre-dollhouse]

Animation Direction and Aesthetic Appeal: Why I Didn’t Like Book of the Atlantic

For the record, if you really loved Book of the Atlantic and thought it looked great and/or are sick of people bitching about it, you probably won’t want to read this post.

If you didn’t like the movie, thought the movie looked terrible, are curious about how and why people don’t like it, or, most importantly, want to read about aesthetic techniques and how they relate to anime in general, please continue.

I want to really talk about animation, visual direction, and adaption techniques, and I want to use Kuroshitsuji: Book of the Atlantic as a negative example, because I soooo wanted to love this movie and ended up really disliking it.

For the most part, this post is just me getting something off of my chest, because I feel like there’s this grand misunderstanding held by people who didn’t like the movie about why the movie looked bad.

I just disagree with the consensus so strongly that I...I have to make a post about it. Because every review I’ve seen of this movie mentions how just the cgi is bad, or it just looks like they didn’t have enough money amiright? 

I just think it is so much more interesting complicated than that.

Lots of text under the cut.

I’ll just get the basics out of the way: the cgi does not look well integrated and some of the background faces are derpy.

Moving on.

Part 1: Something to keep in mind:

Anime movies tend to look better than weekly anime tv shows because they are given both more time and a higher budget. This is why so many people thought it was unfair that A Silent Voice was up for Best Animation in the Crunchy Roll awards.

This is kind of unimportant but I would like you to keep it in mind while reading the rest of this post.

Part 2: What does good animation even mean?

I’ve heard a defence for the movie’s lacklustre animation is that it looks like all of the money went towards the fight scenes, or that the fight scenes make up for everything.

I’ve seen the fight scene between Sebastian, the reapers, and Undertaker a few times and I’ll admit, there are a few nice cuts early on with some very dynamic dodges and attacks, but after that it’s a lot of easier techniques, like held poses, slow motion falls, cut aways, frame movement, etc. The fight scene as a whole I would (personally) consider to be pretty “meh.”

This might sound kind of harsh, but even if you totally disagree with me and think the fight scene looked great, that just means it looks nice.

That fight scene is not especially well animated. 

What takes up the most time and money in animation is the amount and detail of movement (key animation). Look at any important fight scene from FMAB, or BNHA, or the early episodes of Kabaneri of the Iron Fortress. Those big fight scenes have a lot of key frames and details, and they all have wwwaaaay more key animation than the big fight in BotA despite being weekly tv shows.

One Punch Man is a great example because the animation in that show is fucking stellar and the director straight up said that the budget for One Punch Man is not much higher than a typical tv anime budget. Time and skill are the more important factors.

So, not speaking from the perspective of visual appeal, but from the perspective of animation quality, the big reaper fight scene in BotA isn’t that good.

Even the scene everyone raves about, where Lizzy fight all of the zombies: there’s a nice cut of her steps and a cool shot where she stabs one of the zombies in the head from above, but her sword then turns into a flash and we don’t see many details involving aim or choreography. Her stabbing them through the hallway also doesn’t have any real choreography other than her running and spinning once. After she stops to talk to Ciel, the scene gets a little more dynamic with more complicated moves, but it’s shot from far away and still has few key frames. I’ll admit I think it still looks kind of cool and maybe better than how it looked in the manga, but I don’t even think it’s close to the level of quality that’s in a lot of Bones shows.

Anyways, even if you’re in the majority camp and think these scenes look good, compare them to any of the shows mentioned above and you’ll see that even if they look good, they wouldn’t be especially difficult or expensive to animate, and aren’t impressive from a technical standpoint. 

Part 3: Make a collage with those cut corners

Shifting focus a little bit, let’s talk about Higurashi.

Higurashi is one of my top 10 favourite shows (I highly recommend it if you’re not too squeamish). This show also looks awful. Like, really awful. There’s barely any movement, the characters are off model almost 100% of the time, and it has a very simplistic art style.

Despite being outright ugly, Higurashi still visually impresses me more than BotA because of one very simple, yet very very important fact:

The director and animators are trying their best. 

Check out the scene in this gif set (gore warning). There’s a shadow silhouette, repetitive movement, and not much detail in the eyes, so it’s not technically impressive in terms of animation, but the way that the screen shakes when the bat lands, the lower angle used to put Keiichi in a dominating position of the frame, and the colour blur expressing the fact that this is both very emotionally intense and set at a different time make my brain say “ah yes, thought was put into making this scene look good with limited resources.”

Simpler yet is this scene, where it’s just two characters standing and talking while being atrociously off model. But the way they’re placed on the screen (ie parallel but opposing) is both cool visually and thematically relevant. It’s got a nice colour pallet, too.

Higurashi likes to play around with visual perspectives. This scene (violence warning) has no animation in the first gif and repetitive, fast movements in the second, but it takes the perspective of a man about to be beat to death with a baseball bat, which still makes it feel tense.

There’s another top fucking notch scene where someone is digging their own throat out with their finger nails, and instead of showing what would be a difficult scene to animate, they have a zoom in on the character’s back from the perspective of an impending threat that may or may not exist closing in on him and it’s terrifying despite the fact that nothing is animated.

Directing choices like these are extremely common in Higurashi.

Another slightly less obvious example would be Princess Tutu (which is one of my top 5 favourite shows that I recommend to everyone). Princess Tutu has very very few moments of sakuga and lots of repeated animation and kind of inconsistent movement in some scenes. 

It looks cheaply made and is not well animated, but literally no one gives a fuck because that show has beautiful character designs, beautiful colour design, and interesting/creative set pieces.

The point is it’s 100% possible to make a cheap as fuck, poorly animated show and not have it look terrible. 

I guess this is just my opinion, but when I compare the visual direction in Higurashi and the art of Princess Tutu to the flat, poorly blocked, and underwhelming visuals that make up a lot of BotA, I grow significantly less impressed with it.

The production team stuck pretty damn close to the manga, but the manga looks good because the panels are highly detailed illustrations that are specifically designed to look good when they are standing still and in black and white. They are also placed on a page which controls the visual pacing and lets you fill in movement with your imagination.

Translating this directly into animation but taking out the detail and shading in the illustrations and having the movements look worse than they did in my imagination does...not...look as good.

Part 4: Adapt

Let’s say, hypothetically, that BotA had fewer resources than most anime movies for some reason (money, time, staff, etc.). Sure, I don’t know the behind the scenes details. I doubt this was the case, but it very well might be.

.......Then why did they adapt the source material the way they did?

The manga for Kuroshitusji is fucking gorgeous and has some really iconic panels. For example, check out this post comparing a beautiful panel with the same scene from BotA.

...Why? Why would you make it that way?

Is it because you think it’ll please the fans to keep it the same? Because you wanted to cut a corner and use the manga as a storyboard?

Because it sure as fuck wasn’t because it would look good in the anime adaptation.

If the director and/or animators wanted to do the same scene but with limited resources, they could have maybe cropped it so it focused just on the undertaker’s face and the girl’s face, and then focus on making that look pretty and/or detailed. They wouldn’t have to put extra time and effort into drawing a nice full body shot, but they could still have it look good.

I came up with that time and money saving idea in less than 10 seconds and I’m not even a god damned animation director.

This goes back to my previous point, where it can be possible to make a passible looking show with limited resources, but this movie opted for sticking to the source material even though they really couldn’t do it justice.

Which is fine!!!! Embrace stylism!!! Kill la Kill has some goofy looking fight scenes with cut outs and cheeky techniques, but it does it in a way that builds the environment of the show and works within that universe because it’s clearly a part of the style. 

Heck, studio Shaft practically gets away with murder by embracing weird styles with some of their older, cheaper shows.

Those particular styles almost definitely wouldn’t work with BotA, but find your own! Adapting the source material means exactly that: adapt it. Change it in a way that makes it just as good, if not better, than the original product in this new format.

In fact, I remember 2 scenes I thought looked pretty cool in this movie: one where it’s showing how the bizarre dolls work and the animation goes all Madoka Magica, and one where it shows this shadowy version of Sebastian before he makes his contract.

Both of those scenes have a style that is unique to animation and were not in the original manga.

I mean I guess it’s somewhat admirable that they were trying to stick to the source material, but they just...didn’t do it well.

Part 5: Does anyone here know CPR?! Because we need to breathe some life into this movie!

LITERALLY ALL OF MY PROBLEMS WITH BOOK OF THE ATLANTIC CAN BE EXPLAINED IN ONE SCENE.

IT’S KIND OF INCREDIBLE HOW MUCH THIS SUMS IT UP.

So there’s this scene in the manga where Ciel thinks he’s about to watch Lizzy get eaten by zombies and is, understandably, pretty torn up about it, as seen here:

This is a really great panel: Ciel’s face is expressive, the sea water makes it ambiguous whether or not he’s crying or sweating, and it’s from a unique angle that ensures his face and desperately reaching arm are both in the foreground.

Here’s the same scene in the movie:

Ciel’s face is less expressive, the angle is a lot simpler, and minute visual details are straight up omitted. 

It’s like “yeah, we’re practically using the manga as storyboards*”

*unless the panel is like, hard to draw or expressive to the point where it might look off model.

I feel like the studio was deeply afraid of using animation that was too off model for reasons I don’t understand. Maybe it’s because they were afraid that the characters would look too unattractive but like...

it’s okay to have a character look a little fucked up if they feel a little fucked up.

Returning to Higurashi: that horror series has become famous for its highly emotive facial expressions.

Check out Rena’s furious face in the fourth gif of this set.

Or Rika’s super fucked up expression when suffering intense harm.

Or the sheer intense terror in Keiichi’s eyes in this gif and this gif set.

Like sure, the show looks like garbage and has lots of other derpy, off model faces, but they clearly had an idea of what they were going for and how to use animation as acting.

I feel that maaaybe the production team for BotA confused looking ugly (having faces distorted by emotion) for looking bad, but that’s 100% speculation.

Part of my reasoning for that speculation is in the following scene: 

So, in the manga/BotA, Sebastian and Ciel run into Druitt, and the scene plays out like a well timed joke when Druitt asks them how they know him and they go like this

and it’s funny.

The exact same punchline is in the movie but it looks like this

like, the idea of the joke still comes across, but the expressions aren’t as humorously exaggerated and the joke isn’t as funny as a result.

This is also a scene where I don’t want to hear any “this scene looks bad because of money” arguments because drawing the simplistic expression from the manga would have been easier and less time consuming. 

Again, let’s look at the comedic scenes from Higurashi:

This particular style probably wouldn’t look good in a Kuro adaption but the idea is that you can deform facial expressions for the sake of joke and sometimes it will make the joke funnier.

The point is also that Higurashi is a really well directed show despite being poorly animated. Can you tell I’m pushing Higurashi?

Please do not misunderstand this point: BotA for the most part has fine facial expressions that communicate the desired emotion. It’s fine. My point is that they probably should have been more daring with their creative choices to make certain scenes more emotionally/comedically effective.

In fact, part of the appeal of animation as a medium is the ability to play with reality through drawings.

Or just, you know, just draw a kid looking sad from a nice angle.

Conclusions:

Kuroshitsuji: Book of the Atlantic is obviously not the worst movie ever. In fact, there are quite a few scenes with good animation, good framing and competent direction. 

(Ooh, I should have mentioned this earlier, but there is a legitimately good cut where Sebastian and Ciel are reaching for each other and it shows blood appearing before you see Seb get stabbed. This was a good choice and I don’t think it’s a coincidence that it was not in the manga.)

I can totally see someone saying this movie looks good, and that’s a perfectly justified opinion, I just strongly disagree when looking at the overall product and how it compares to the manga and pretty much every other decently made show/movie.

I’m just upset because this arc in the manga is amazing and the most cinematic, and it clearly was not adapted to its full potential. And now it probably never will be.

Please let the impossible happen and let Bones or Madhouse get the rights for the Green Witch arc and make an amazing adaption. Pleeeaaaassseee.

When I die I want A-1 Pictures to lower me into my grave so they can let me down one last time.

That being said, if you have not seen this movie and (for whatever reason) are dead set against ever reading the manga; give this movie a watch. The story’s utterly fantastic and it’s a...watchable...movie.

But here’s the moral of this whole post:

Book of the Atlantic does not look bad just because it looks cheap. .

Book of the Atlantic looks bad because it looks bad.

Thanks for coming to my Ted Tal-- *passes out*

[giant-head]

I wrote a script for the first part of the film - an opening montage telling the story of how the GIANT HEAD came into existence, how our protagonist fits in, etc. I’m going to get to boarding this tomorrow either with Krita or Blender Grease Pencil (I will definitely be using Blender to handle the virtual camera stuff that this script demands!)

all in all this calls for about eleven backgrounds - easily doable - and a lot of very complex perspective drawing animation, which is really going to push the limit of what I can do, but hey, that’s the whole point of this project!

the big concept is that each scene in the montage has text that’s physically present in the scene saying how long ago it is, and the camera flies through this text to transition from scene to scene.

film is divided into two parts: opening montage and main sequence. the opening montage tells the story of why there is a GIANT HEAD, the main sequence explains how the giant head is destroyed by one plucky antifascist lesbian

SCENE ONE locale: outdoor combat class the SWORDMASTER is training the GIRL GIRL is holding her bokken ready to strike, her eyes are shut, so there is a black screen she opens her eyes, dojo fades in her eyes narrow and she swings her bokken towards the camera camera pulls back, revealing other student who parries they lower swords, bow SWORDMASTER pats GIRL on the shoulder GIRL wipes away some sweat walks to edge of square, camera zooming to follow the TECHNOWITCH is standing at the edge of the square she passes the PROTAGONIST a ragged towel, they lean on the wall together camera pans upwards to slum skyline BIG RED WORDS: "ONE YEAR AGO" camera flies straight through the letter 'A' in 'YEAR'

required backgrounds: outdoor dojo panning up into slum skyline (panoramic perspective)

SCENE TWO exterior street scene; a busy market. various cyborgs wandering around. the protagonist buys something and then walks along the street to join the TECHNOWITCH, who is hanging out with a GAY COUPLE. atmosphere is relaxed. camera continues to pan as the group laugh at a joke. the pan reveals the words "ELEVEN MONTHS AGO" and we fly through the "O" in "AGO"

SCENE THREE street scene, past curfew. shuttered market stalls. scene is lit by moonlight - city lights in the distance, but not here. contrasting colour palette to the previous scene. there is a dark alleyway in a prominent place in the frame, with "TEN MONTHS AGO" stretching across it, and the barely visible silhouette of a parked car the same GAY COUPLE from the previous scene is running home, only to be stopped by car headlights suddenly appearing in alleyway. silhouetted in the lights is the COP ; body language aggressive and smug, e.g. tapping baton in hand (no dialogue). other COPS hanging back behind, laughing GAY COUPLE backs off, hands in the air. COP gets up in their space the GIRL sprints out of an alleyway and tackles the COP. two go sprawling into the street. girl shouts (again no VA, but clearly shouting) for the gay couple to run, and they do COP calls on his guys for backup, they start advancing forwards, with sort of 'i can't believe you did that but you are going down' expressions cop lights suddenly turn off, there is a spray of sparks blur of silhouette past the camera as the girl legs it camera flies through the "O" in "MONTHS"

backgrounds required: street scene dark, street scene lit by headlamps

SCENE FOUR exterior scene. a crowd is standing under a big pyramid, with cops in the same uniforms as the ones before - our specific cop is in the near foreground, possibly with a bruise. the FASCIST LEADER is giving a speech. (crowd should be static, don't try to animate a whole moving crowd). behind the crowd is some monumental architecture: lots of pillars and pyramids and such. symmetrical composition. balloons and drones float around in the sky. the words NINE MONTHS AGO stretch between the buildings above the podium camera pans up and zooms in on the FASCIST LEADER, who's doing some exaggerated gestures. we don't spent much time with him - this is just to establish who he is (a bad dude). nasty sneer. camera rises over his head and zooms through the "O" in MONTHS

SCENE FIVE interior scene. some kind of map room, prominently featuring a map of the city with little models of the various monumental architecture. we can see the boulevard where he's giving the speech. there is a line of portraits on the back wall of previous fascist leaders in front of buildings they've created. intended message: he wants to build a building to one-up his predecessors. the FASCIST LEADER is standing over the map, reading some kind of report. a nervous-looking FUNCTIONARY is standing nearby, rubbing his hands together. the FASCIST LEADER sneers and tears up the report. he picks up one of the models on the table and throws it over his shoulder. the FUNCTIONARY runs after it as the leader peers at the table. the FASCIST LEADER gets an idea. he walks to the back of the room, and picks up a bust of himself, and lugs it over to the table. he places it down, on top of the area that represents the slum where our protag lives. the FASCIST LEADER nods, looking very pleased with himself. camera zooms in on the table where there is tiny red letters reading "EIGHT MONTHS AGO" and flies through the "A" in "AGO" just to shake things up

SCENE SIX a street scene in a clearly residential area. a large crowd of people are gathered, looking shocked. facing them is a bunch of cops and some bulldozers (only they're like, cyborg bulldozers with someone like physically wired in or something). the GIRL, TECHNOWITCH and SWORDMASTER are near the front; the NERVOUS-LOOKING FUNCTIONARY is standing beside the lead cop with a long roll of paper. in the gap between the two crowds is the words "SEVEN MONTHS AGO". try for a kind of spherical fish eye perspective where we can zoom in without it looking weird? the camera zooms in on our protagonist; she shakes her head like "no you are not going to bulldoze our houses to build a giant fascist head". the camera then pans quickly over to the COP and the FUNCTIONARY. the COP smirks; the FUNCTIONARY legs it into the cop line. the COPS start firing tear gas rounds and shooting their guns in the air, conveniently avoiding the requirement to draw an entire crowd running away at once. blurry figures leg it from the crowd. a few people run forwards instead - our protagonist among them. the camera zooms through the battle into the "O" in "MONTHS"

SCENE SEVEN interior scene of the GIRL and the TECHNO WITCH's room. tech paraphernalia is scattered around; there's the GIRL's martial arts equipment. on screen left is a window; on screen right is the door in. the bed is in the foreground. suddenly, the door pops a bit in; the GIRL jumps out of bed the COP bursts in through the door only to get hit over the head by the GIRL with a chair or something. meanwhile, the TECHNOWITCH kicks out the window, and starts climbing out. they jump out the window. the camera flies through the window this time - oh shit we're having two scenes in this part of the montage?

SCENE EIGHT the camera looks down onto a street scene from the first floor outsie the window, the cops are advancing down the street with riot shields. behind them they have flame tanks; the street is on fire. they're just fucking shooting people the GIRL and the TECHNOWITCH run across the street and duck into an alleyway. they can't do shit against this. the camera flies into the flames, where it meets the words 6 MONTHS AGO with a really big 6 and goes through the hole in the 6

SCENE NINE the GIRL and the TECHNO WITCH are running under a bridge in a dry canal. a bunch of trucks are driving overhead carrying sheets of copper for the GIANT HEAD (right to left). a truck drives in carrying the words FOUR MONTHS AGO and we fly through the "A" in "AGO"

SCENE TEN the FASCIST LEADER is standing on a metal platform with camera drones flying around. behind him is the GIANT HEAD, but in broad daylight. he's nodding and looking very proud of himself. the head is in a slightly earlier stage of completion. the camera pulls BACK this time, and a CRT scanline filter is applied. as we pull back, we find ourselves in a dusty room containing the GIRL and the TECHNOWITCH; the TECHNOWITCH turns off the TV, revealing the words TWO MONTHS AGO. we fly in through the O

SCENE TEN an interior scene. a dusty room; a sketch of the GIANT HEAD on the wall, next to a window with the construction site in the distance. the GIRL is sitting, tapping her foot. the GAY COUPLE from earlier are also there, and some other PARTISANS. the TECHNOWITCH is pointing at something on the diagram. there is an arrow running along the bridge we saw on the TV, down the scaffolding, and to the base of the GIANT HEAD - and she scribbles an explosion in there. the camera goes out the window towards the building site. this leads us to the word YESTERDAY and we go through the D, leading us to the scene in progress now.

[aion-rsa]

I Hate Suzie Review (Spoiler-Free): Electrifying Billie Piper Comedy-Drama

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This spoiler-free review is based on episodes one to four of eight.

This year has seen television drama so vibrant, inventive and entertaining that the first reaction is gratitude, but the second is frustration. You mean to say it could have been like this all along? This whole time, TV audiences have been stuck at the same party, in the same unending conversations about sad cops and bad men, because prejudice and failure of the imagination has kept a fabulous throng of bold, clever talent locked out on the other side of the door? Why is this only just happening now?

With TV commissioners finally giving creative freedom to writers like Michaela Coel (I May Destroy You), Sophia Al-Maria (Little Birds) and Lucy Prebble (I Heart Suzie), it’s no wonder that, once past the threshold, the first thing these storytellers are doing is blowing up the place. The explosive force of their work has been concentrated by years of being tamped. 

I Heart Suzie explodes with energy and ideas. Co-created by playwright and Succession’s Lucy Prebble with Billie Piper (the pair last collaborated on 2007’s Secret Diary of a Call Girl), it’s an electrifying series that’s constantly shedding its skin to become something new. Director Georgi Banks-Davis plays with genre, shifting style each episode to capture a different element of its lead character’s crisis.

That’s Suzie Pickles (Piper), an actor in her thirties who lands a career-saving role on the same day that her world is wrenched apart by a nude photo hack. The catastrophe reverberates throughout the episodes, destabilising Suzie’s professional and personal life, as well as her sense of self. Having grown up in the public eye since winning a TV singing competition as a teenager, Suzie has constructed herself to please other people. When her life is blasted apart, it’s devastating, but also the first chance she’s had to question whether or not she wants to put the pieces back in the same place. 

Piper is captivating in the lead. The first episode is fist-bitingly stressful and she’s the nexus of nerves at its centre. When news of the hack gets out, Suzie’s at home being primped for a magazine photo shoot. The chaotic invasion of stylists, directors, journos and hangers-on in her private space reflects the violation of the hack, but this particular incursion is all part of the territory. Wry comment is passed on how celebrities are expected to package their lives up for public consumption – comment that becomes universally applicable in the age of the social media profile.

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Suzie’s life is rarefied, with its sci-fi convention appearances, broadsheet interviews and on-set zombie Nazi shenanigans (not unlike Piper, best recognised in these parts for her appearances in Doctor Who and Penny Dreadful, Suzie’s a star of genre TV), but its demolition makes it universal. Susie’s relationships may all be affected by her career – her best friend Naomi (Leila Farzad) is also her manager, putting a business spin even on that intimacy – but her problems with her marriage and young son will be recognisable to many.

She’s married to Cob (Daniel Ings) a university lecturer who hasn’t made peace with Suzie’s breadwinner status and whom she struggles to desire. Cob doesn’t respect his wife’s line of work and belittles her achievements to shore up his own ego. Fans sexualise her and treat her creepily like their property, while a salacious and crafty media commodifies her life for clicks. On top of which, she feels as though she’s failing her deaf son, and doesn’t know who she really is or what makes her happy. Her identity crisis could be that of a great many people. 

That ongoing crisis is painted in expressive colours with stylistic ingenuity by Banks-Davis. None of the show’s surprises will be spoiled here, but there are plenty to look forward to in the first half alone. Each episode is themed around a particular emotion from the stages of grief, from shock and denial to anger and acceptance. The structure allows for a broader exploration of those concepts, and for the series to go through several figurative and literal costume changes. 

The supporting cast is strong, with a joyfully naughty turn by Dexter Fletcher in episode two (filmed in part on location at MCM London Comic-Con), and excellent work by Farzad and Ings as the two satellites orbiting Suzie. It’s a hectic, involving whirlwind of a story that sweeps you up before depositing you back on the ground with some complicated truths and hard-to-forget images. This kind of exciting, vigorous TV should by rights blast open that closed door for good, allowing for the arrival of many more varied stories by many more varied women storytellers.

On that – before I Heart Suzie went into development at Sky, it was turned down by several broadcasters, writer Lucy Prebble told this week’s Edinburgh International Television Festival. They already had their ‘woman having a breakdown’ show, she heard, so weren’t looking for another. You could lose the last three words of that quote and the same might have applied. Stories about women’s lives have for too long been considered a niche genre – like male celebrity fishing programmes or Joanna Lumley travelogues, why would anybody need more than one? Well, this and I May Destroy You and the sister-shows breaking through alongside them are your answer. Because widening perspectives in front of and behind the camera benefits everybody, television most of all.

  I Hate Suzie is available to stream in full on NOW TV in the UK. 

The post I Hate Suzie Review (Spoiler-Free): Electrifying Billie Piper Comedy-Drama appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[thesmallcast]

Ready or Not

Since I got back home from my recent trip to NZ; I have been to QLD, Melbourne, on a 2-day course in the city. On top of that, my boss walked out last week - he was meant to be leaving the end of October, which added some extra pressure at work. Safe to say, that since I got back from what I have already described as a full-on week back home, I have struggled to readjust and get into routine and normality.

Last Friday, I was starting to not feel well, I was tired, I had muscle aches, I had a cough following on from a sore throat earlier in the week. My gym girls and I were going to dinner and I was looking forward to it that morning, but on the way there I could feel that I wasn’t myself. When we sat down, immediately the lights went out and some god awful loud music went on, and out came a belly dancer. On a normal night, I would maybe have been keen on this and even joined in but I was on the verge of walking out and the verge of tears. Once we started digging into dinner, I thought it all went back to normal until I brought up that my Mum was coming - who I had told to come for a weekend…but I realised at that moment she is coming for a whole week. I had previously told her not to come that weekend as it was busy on both weekends either side. I end up crying and feeling overwhelmed and a strong sense of anxiety flushes over me, as I try to formulate how this month will look, how will I be on track. It was time for me to go home but I end up in a coughing fit and crying and end up working myself up so much that I vomit ( Please note - I did vomit outside the restaurant). I felt so embarrassed, I feel so weak in character when I'm not myself and I start overthinking. All my icicles surface. 

The weekend was tough I just emotionally wasn’t there - I was sick which didn’t help and I couldn’t get back in the right mindset. I tried to go to my friends birthday and had to leave early as I just wasn’t feeling right. I had no appetite, I was being so hard on myself. Thinking it was all on me that I overdid it back home.  I had put weight on the scale which had given me a bit of anxiety. I was so consumed on what normality should be and focusing on my mindset that I didn’t physically check in and realise I actually was sick. It turned out I had an ear infection. It just was all bad timing. It was being unwell, out of routine, struck with my period.

I took a break from the gym for a week, I took it easy on myself. The Monday following, I came back and I hit a new Personal Best ….clearly my body just needed the rest. I just failed to recognise it soon enough.

I truly was so anxious about my mum coming, and it was all in my head. I was thinking she was selfish taking a week in Sydney and not thinking about me… The irony right - who is the selfish one… it was me. Its just I hate the way I get when I'm with her and I know that I don’t want to be that way but I also don’t know how to stop it.  I have been really taking the time to work out what I will do for when she is here. I know that she really tries her best with me and I unleash these horrible words, expressions, emotions. I think that I need to work through this openly with her. My mum doesn’t like having difficult conversations but I have decided to do a few things to help get closure not only for myself but for our relationship.

Firstly, I have pre-downloaded certain quick and easy meditation tapes to help me relax and stay calm if I need it. I need to be prepared to just calm my mind in these times and also to write!

Secondly, I am going to do conversation cards. These cue cards will come out each day and have an allocated time to say positive things about each other as well as ask pre-written up random questions - What's your favourite colour?, What is your favourite memory of us as kids?. I want to talk more about the positives of ‘us’ - I know there is plenty. But I do also want to touch on the emotional topics too so that we can segway and touch on things from the past or anything that may have happened that day too. I want my mum's help… I want to tell her how I feel in a constructive way and have her feedback. I want it to be the best relationship. I want to get closure on things from the past. I want to move on. Sometimes Mum and I get stuck in awkward silences and I feel this may help us unwind. Its something a bit different and I think its a way to stay focused and have a method ( to the madness).

I was reflecting on the whole concept of ‘family’ recently - I was actually really lucky to grow up with such loving parents - I didn’t come from a broken home, I didn’t have parents who didn’t care, I didn’t grow up in filthy conditions or was malnourished, wasn’t abused. I had a pretty good childhood. Yes, it wasn’t perfect, my parents divorced, I lived separated from my brothers, my mum was strict on me in my teens (as her father was on her), I didn’t like my stepdad, I had a few nannies who looked after me and little brother, I wasn’t the baby of the family which also was hard for me to come to terms with too. I could no longer get away with everything. Even with having a nanny it wasn’t all butterflies and rainbows. We had one nanny that ended up being fired after finding out that she left my little brother in his cot all day while she watched TV (A neighbour had spotted it). Our next nanny ( her name was Dawn), she had taught me French,  when I was at secondary school, she ended up being murdered by her ex-husband ( shotgun to the head) It's hard to believe that someone that was in my life died that way and I can talk so candidly about it. I don’t think it had a large impact on me and although it was a traumatic way for someone you know to pass and I still hold fond memories and recollection of her. Its just we had chopped and changed nannies quite a few times so it just felt like another transition.

 Family life wasn’t perfect - but who has the perfect family?. I think that in general, I was a wayward teenager who just wanted to be loved and thrived on attention. I remember certain things that I felt impacted me but I seem to forget about all the positives and all the many great memories too. The bush walks at our family home in wyvern, the treehouse and backyard slide, the tree I used to climb at our house at fowler which always had the perfect foot hole, I used to have the coolest colour changing tea set, scented Crayola crayons, I remember the pohutukawa tree outside my nan and granddads, our trip away with Dad to Rotorua when we were kids. I need to keep remembering them.

I am looking forward to having my mum here - I keep repeating that. I don’t want to build it up into something negative. I am back on track mentally and physically. I have got back into routine, and writing out the grateful list and positive affirmations (although I haven’t been doing regularly enough) sure does help put the perspective back in. I am ready!