#(telling my phone to use the 'enhance' or 'contrast' settings :( )

[the-dye-stained-socialite]

Josie Pinup for @thedeafprophet ;) (full nudity below the cut)

i think october wants her cloak back josie 🤭

(based on this:)

[faggotnadyke]

[ID: a series of 18 photographs with text on them. photos are not described in this ID (I will add it as an edit when I can). A block of text is between images, this is added here for context:

I am mad about cellphone cameras hiding the processing they do, and I am glad about software that lets me control it and opt in and out, and I dictated this rant on insta so I am resharing the images here and will attempt to turn this into a useful text post on my blog in future, when my hand is working better [rock on hand-sign emoji][thumbs-up emoji]

end explanatory text. text on images (minorly edited for clarity) reads:

So I got this cell phone a couple of years ago, and I was really excited because it has three different lenses on it, which presumably enables like a whole lot of amazing photography options. But because it's a Google Pixel, I don't get to choose which lens I use, it decides for me based on zoom and light levels, and even though it has a 50-megapixel sensor, it won't expose that to me directly, instead using it to enable digital zoom. So every photo I take is going to be processed at length, whether to downscale or to crop. And a big part of the processing on this phone is noise reduction and edge enhancement.

Honestly, this is still a pretty powerful camera. [referring to Image] This is at four times optical zoom plus four times digital zoom, and its great for viewing on the mobile! But when you look closely at the picture, the processing they have done to reduce noise and combine pixels and crop and such, it leaves this really distinctive artifacting that I super dont like. If it reminds you of some of the telltale textures of generative AI art, it's because similar processing is being done to "solve" the image in areas where the digital zoom or low light has created too much noise. Remember, its using noise reduction, where its trying to reduce differences between pixels, and its using edge enhancement, where its trying to increase contrast between pixels. and it needs to choose what to do where. In situations where the camera can't identify what it's trying to solve, you can get some really weird results. [referring to image] Legit I really, really hate this. I really don't want my phone's camera redrawing my photos for me to this extent. I would much rather have confusing noise that I can learn to decode myself than this much more opaque algorithmic process. It's still a fun camera and, like I said, it's fantastic for viewing the results digitally. but there's this like core element of honesty that's just gone to me now. Also, I dont mean to imply that it is using robust content ID, or fully regenerating my image using generative AI - first off, my phone is just too old for that, and secondly, that would definitely be a much higher demand on the memory and processing of the device. But I am extremely confident that this is what is coming. And I do not know if they will tell us what or how they will apply it to our photos. However, I have found a camera app that lets you turn off some of this built-in processing! "Open Camera", an open source app that exposes everything it can. It can't force my phone to use a particular lens, nor can it expose all 50 megapixels, BUT [screenshot of Open Camera interface] It lets me control the edge enhancement and noise reduction of the built-in driver! [screenshot of Open Camera settings] Each one can be set to default/off/fast/high quality [referring to image] Smooth! Noise! No weird AI blobs! [referring to image] Turns out I don't mind the high quality edge enhancement once you turn off the noise reduction algorithm. I know I come at this with some nostalgia and some real snobbery informing me, but good God, I would always prefer to wrestle with the noise myself than have the camera driver automatically remove it without my input. [Image with noise reduction][Same image with no noise reduction] No noise removal It is definitely a matter of taste, so y'know, follow your heart. I just hugely appreciate being able to DECIDE. As the excellent @/gblekkenhorst put it Please EXPOSE THE VARIABLE!

end text transcription.

Additional tumblr tags, taken from @/irradiatedsnakes: #for iphones, check out yamera. its what i use when i need manual lens selection and focusing

end ID.]

I am mad about cellphone cameras hiding the processing they do, and I am glad about software that lets me control it and opt in and out, and I dictated this rant on insta so I am resharing the images here and will attempt to turn this into a useful text post on my blog in future, when my hand is working better 🤘👍

[doorplays]

Door Reviews: Balatro (2024)

Balatro has been released for mobile recently. I have been avoiding this game to be honest, because I was scared of the man I’ll become when I become addicted to it. But somehow, when it came to mobile, I decided to get it. I needed something else to pass the time between commutes, and Slay the Spire was getting stale. And reader, past me was right. ‘Cos I’m ADDICTED TO THIS GAME. Time for me to tell you of what I think of this insanely good timewaster.

What’s it about? Poker, with a twist! Play poker hands and score higher the better your hand is. The twist here is that you can get Jokers between stages from the store to improve your scoring capability. Setup your Jokers well and sculpt your deck with various cards and vouchers. Climb your way through the ante’s and win!

STYLE (Gameplay, Graphics, Music)

The gameplay is simple if you know your poker. You draw 8 cards, and from those cards play a poker hand that will score you enough chips to win a round. When you win a round, you can cash in your winnings and use them to buy jokers, tarot cards, and various booster packs which can help sculpt your deck and improve your scoring capability. Each round becomes progressively harder to win, so you have to use your resources carefully and have a set of jokers and a deck that can lead you to victory.

It seems simple, but as I played through the game, I appreciated a lot of the subtleties of it. Everything can be a resource, not just your money. There is so much you can tinker with that can help give you an edge, and a lot of ways you can make your little Rube Goldberg machine of a setup. It really tickles my brain!

The UI is simple, and implemented well enough on my phone. I can easily drag and drop cards as needed. And there are a few accessibility options that can help make it easier to play, most notably the high contrast mode that can help you differentiate the suits.

The music is well implemented. You don’t even notice that it’s dynamic and changes when you go to different situations, like when you open different booster packs or go into boss blinds. It just feels natural enough.

The graphics are quaint. I love how the jokers have varied designs, all relating to playing cards and jokers. Some are obvious references, and some are subtle. I love the incorporation of tarot cards too, along with the planets and spectral cards. The designs for enhancing cards are easy to see too. It’s good design, I think, that I can tell what my cards are at a glance.

All in all, this game is just Pure Gameplay and I enjoy it a LOT! It’s so fun.

SUBSTANCE (Story, Characters, Impact)

This is absolutely not a game you play for the story. Because there isn’t one! The only narrative you’re playing is you getting lost in card game hell! Cards coming out of your sleeves. Cards appearing when you close your eyes. You will lose so much of your time with this game it’s unreal. But yeah if you want story then this game isn’t for you friendo

VERDICT

In summary this game is insanely addictive it has a lot of bells and whistles and a lot of math. If you’re into that you WILL have fun

Door Rates Balatro: 4.5/5!

[tibbohonestwithyou]

Fraud

I popped down to the Causeway today to grab a snap of the Drove. I've been waiting for a break in the turgid weather we've been having to try and get out and test the new camera, and today happened to present the opportunity.

With all the rain of late the Drove has been close to overflowing, really the highest I've ever seen the water level (or at least noticed, anyway). I figured there would be a pretty reasonable composition down here with the, now fixed, focal length of 40mm.

I was wrong. It transpires there isn't really any focus to the image, it's a bit of a nothing shot, but I took it anyway as I still needed to test out the editing software I've opted to run with for now.

Over the last fifteen odd years I've learned an awful lot in Photoshop, especially for the purpose of photo editing. I've always tried to edit my photos with the intention of subtly enhancing what is already there, not pushing things. A tweak of saturation here, a smattering of contrast there, some gentle nudging around the Curves and Levels settings, the removal of distractions in the image with the aid of the clone and spot healing brushes, that sort of thing.

I've watched Photoshop advance in leaps and bounds from CS3 all the way up to the new cloud based system, which I unsubscribed from after selling all my Canon gear. This time round, however, I thought I'd grab something cheaper and less involved for my latest return to photography. I wanted something that I wouldn't end up spending too long fussing over, something that would let me make the fundamental tweaks, something akin to the apps I've been used to on my phone (Snapseed and the stock Android editing thingy, mainly).

I found something, but I'm not going to tell you what it is just yet.

The problem I've stumbled across today though is I think photo editing software has perhaps advanced a little too much now. It has certainly made some of the more advanced editing techniques very, very easy, and I don't think that's a good thing.

To set the scene of this shot; as I walked along the Causeway there were a couple of very large flocks of birds, a good eighty to one hundred birds in each, both twisting around in the sky right where I wanted to shoot. I couldn't believe my luck! When I actually arrived at the right spot to compose they'd all flown away, which was a bit rubbish. I decided to wait it out and see if they returned. During the wait a huge Heron turned up, accompanied by three very young Herons. I had a limited amount of time to spare, and during that time the large flocks never returned and the Herons never took flight again. I popped off a few frames whilst waiting but decided to give up as the light was changing and without the birds in the right place there was nothing that would make this a great image. I left.

I dumped the RAW into the new software to see if I'd enjoy the workflow or if I should revert back to Photoshop and Lightroom. I fiddled with the basic settings, all of which were straightforward and yielded the right results. Then I found some settings that made light work of serious enhancements. I tried one out. It worked too well.

Personally I don't think there is a bridge over the gap between image enhancement and image manipulation. The latter, to me at least, feels like it becomes a piece of digital artwork, not a true representation of what the camera saw. A photo captures that moment in time, it's a visual record of the scene/person/event etc. Shooting in RAW and then pulling back the exposure, colours and contrast is nothing new, it was a darkroom process before it was digital, and if done properly just serves to enhance that photo. Manipulation is something else entirely.

There is a fundamental aspect of this picture that wasn't how it looked through the lens, and it makes me feel like the whole image has been cheated, it's a fraud.

I've punched the colours and tones a bit, and I've done a couple of little tidy-ups, removed a plastic bottle that was floating in the water, and cropped slightly to 4:5 ratio. But with just one click (then some subsequent fine adjustments) something significant changed.

It's potentially put me off the software, but I'll persevere for a while to give it a fair test with lots of different images. I don't intend on using these manipulation tools anyway, I'm only really here for the basic bits and pieces.

Can you work out the edit? What are your thoughts on manipulation? Do you like the final image or do you agree it's a bit of a nothing? All of this stuff is subjective anyway.

Sound off in the comments (or in the Facebook comments if that's why you're here).

As an aside, if you were so inclined to zoom in just to the right of the darkest ripples in the water, you'd see the Heron and it's young, but I don't know what Tumblr compression is like, so they might be a bit blockier here than in the original.

1/200s - ISO 320 - f/16

[fvrxdrm]

Last Night (Leon Kennedy x Reader)

Pairing: Infinite Darkness!Leon x GN!Reader

Warning(s): Implied sex

This is about a dream I had a few nights ago. I added a few things at the end bc the ending in my dream didn’t make sense but I’ll explain it later at the end notes.

*****

“Ugh! She’s a fucking headache!”

The coolness of the air conditioning in the briefing room dried up the remaining sweat on your back and forehead and your hands went disgustingly sticky with the clamminess clinging into your palm. Fatigued and dozy you were, you were sure you were going to pass out right there in your seat.

You, along with your partner, Leon, were tasked to save Ashley Graham again, this time in a more urban part of Italy. When the president told you about her getting kidnapped again, you legit rolled your eyes and Leon nudged your side when he saw the subtle gesture you displayed. Had Leon had the audacity to disrespect people who had higher power than him in his line of work, he would’ve flipped the president off and took the both of you to a nearby bar. He wasn’t like that though, much to your dismay. He still had that “mama’s boy” attitude in him even when he left some of it during his “rookie day” or night or something.

You were close to rioting that time. They were going to send you to that fucking mission again with only the two of you and hand you both shitty-ass pistols with ten fucking bullets. Who the fuck does that? Wouldn’t you send the whole team if you, the president of the United fucking States, had a daughter that’s been kidnapped? Also, why the fuck didn’t they enhance the fucking security level? Hello? Parenting 101?

Leon crashed onto the couch beside you, making you bounce a bit, before shaking his hair from the grease and dampness his locks held. “Agreed. I might’ve lost my ears right there…again,” he grunted as he stretched his arms above his head and managed to pop a few joints in the process. “Wanna grab a few drinks after this?”

With your head leaned against the back of the couch, you turned to look at your friend with jaded eyes and a lazy smile. You nodded in response and slapped a hand on his thigh. “Sure.”

*****

You may or may not have had one too many drinks and danced around like a fucking worm on crack. Leon had one of his arms wrapped around your waist and a glass of whiskey in his free hand as he ground against your skirt-clad ass while you responded back with the same enthusiasm as him. Both of you were drunk, that’s for sure. Not only with pure intoxication, but also with a sinful desire; something you two unknowingly shared on nights where fingers worked their magic to bring you both to a blissful high. You knew they weren’t enough to satisfy your wants, but they were enough to calm your racing thoughts temporarily instead of committing to a one-time thing and bringing awkwardness in the atmosphere, at least you thought it would’ve been a one-time thing.

Leon whispered naughty things into your ear, things he wouldn’t have said had he been conscious enough to stop himself from making a move, and boldly dipped a finger in your skirt and rubbed your pussy through your underwear. He was going to make love to you, he said, and he would make sure that you would be his. You bit your lip as you moaned at his words. He was hot and you would gladly let him fuck you anytime, anywhere. And so, you agreed.

*****

Ring. Ring. Ring.

The provoking sound of your phone pulled you away from your dream. Your fantasy was so close to getting to the good part. Leon was about to fucking kiss you and then somebody decided to fucking wake you up! You sighed. If somebody woke you up this early then you guessed it was really important. So, despite being piqued and groggy from the sudden sound, you picked your phone up from the night stand beside your bed, not even thinking about how different your room looked, and checked the time before answering the call. “Hello?” You spoke, your voice raspy and your throat feeling like a thousand knives were stabbed into it. You also took note of how your head felt like you were banging it against the wall with so much speed and vigor and attempted to ease it down with a simple massage but to no avail.

“Morning, Y/N!”, the voice from the other line boomed, causing your agonizing condition to aggravate even more.

Ashley

You groaned at the contrasting enthusiasm the girl had and you had to slam the phone on the mattress to ground yourself and keep you from dying. “Can you keep your voice down? I have a headache right now and it would be much appreciated if you could calm down,” you said after bringing your device back to your ear.

“Oh, sorry. I was just going to ask if you could meet me in the church later? I wanted to talk to you about something while we get everything set for my wedding tomorrow. I tried calling Leon, but he wouldn’t answer. Can you do me a favor of telling him about it too?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll call him.”

“Thanks, Y/N! I’ll see you later,” she said. The call ended with a series of beeps and you slammed your phone on the bed again with your eyes shut tight in irritation.

I cannot deal with that girl again. Especially now that I’m hungover… But who am I to deny the president’s fucking daughter…?

You sighed.

Welp, time to call Leon.

You raised your phone up parallel to your face and was about to press Leon’s saved contact name when you suddenly felt an arm wrap around your torso. Your heart pounded. With eyes opened wide and brain waking up from its slumber in an instant, you slowly turned your head towards your left and almost screamed at what you saw…or rather who you saw.

Leon.

His chest was exposed to the warmth of the morning air, hair strands clamped together by oil and sweat that was starting to form on his skin. He was still deep in his slumber and you noticed how the round bulge tucked in his eyelids moved around as if he was exploring something in his dream.

Never had you and Leon shared a bed together. Those times where he would come over to your place for a drink? He would always insist that he could just crash into your couch in order to avoid invading your privacy.

You panicked at the situation you were in. You grabbed the hem of your blanket and yanked it up to check if anything did happen, and surprise, surprise; something did. You were both naked and you felt something drying up down there. You also started taking notice of how your vagina felt sore from probably getting pounded and fucked silly last night-

Oh, right! Last night.

You vaguely remembered how Leon touched your body while you two were getting drunk. You two were getting a bit too flirty and began groping each other here and there, getting more and more suggestive as minutes passed, pie-eyed and unconscious with how you were treating each other as more than friends.

Every corner and every wall your eyes passed was becoming a void of something dark, something you became anxious of. What happened would forever change your friendship and your relationship with him for sure. Hell, you weren’t even sure if he was going to stay by your side starting from when he wakes up in a few minutes. And as much as you wanted to go back and prevent that from happening, you couldn’t, and you had to face the music whether you liked or not.

*****

Sure enough, when you woke Leon up, everything was awkward. No words were exchange from when you prepared for the day, breakfast, and until Leon drove you both to the location Ashley had told you to go to. The silence rose hysteria in both of your minds. You were going fucking crazy. You were fidgety when you sat beside Leon in the passenger seat and the man would bounce his leg up and down when you hit a red light. You both were trying to avoid taking a glance at each other, but those inevitable moments that you did, you would forcefully smile at each other and then gaze back out the window again. That was the cycle you lived on for a few hours and you decided to let it stay like that until one of you broke the atmosphere.

You waited inside the church as you were told. It was only the two of you inside but you acted like a handful of people were sitting beside you with the amount of space that was left unfilled between you. You were biting your lip and focusing on the pillars and stones that made up the building until you couldn’t process anything that was happening anymore and stood up, studying the interior as you roamed. “Hey,” you heard somebody whisper behind you. You looked down to your wrist when you felt something warm and saw a fairly large hand loosely gripping onto it before looking up to see Leon’s eyes gazing into yours. You nearly got lost in them but thankfully, he spoke before you got stuck into your own stupor. “I just wanna say… I’m sorry. I-it’s not gonna change everything that happened but I don’t want to break what we have. I value you and our friendship too much for me to let it go. I don’t think we can forget about last night but if it makes you feel better…I-I-“

“Can we talk about this outside? I don’t think it’s appropriate for us to talk about it here,” you chuckled. Leon nodded in agreement before leading you out to where a garden caught your attention. “Listen Leon, I know we can’t just pretend nothing happened but… I don’t wanna let go of this either. I value this as much as you do and it would be crazy stupid for me just to just hate you for something we weren’t even conscious about or something,” you said. You both laughed in relief as the weight on your shoulders dissipated into thin air before you placed a gentle palm on his cheek. Again, no words were shared but this time, no anxiety was present. Instead, you felt like this was an intimate moment only the two of you shared. Something was being written in the stars and you saw every word the gods wrote in the eyes of the person in front of you both.

As cheesy as it sounded, you two felt like magnets were pulling you towards each other, physically and mentally, and in a matter of seconds, you found your lips being pressed against Leon’s.

It was like you were recreating what happened last night without even knowing the details, except this was slower, more sensual, and certainly more emotional, and you couldn’t help the tears that flowed freely against your cheeks.

“Come on, let’s ditch Ashley. Maybe we could relive what happened last night?”

*****

Okay, so in my dream, Ashley’s not getting married and she didn’t call me. Instead, what happened was after the bar scene, Leon and I got teleported in front of the altar and just fucking talked. And then we walked outside and what happened in the end of this fic happened in my dream. Lol.

I rushed this bc I’m tired.

[fandomshatepeopleofcolor]

Hello! Is there a good blog you all know of for asking art questions? It’s just, whenever I draw and color (I usually just shade) a POC with dark skin, I try to edit it on my phone (because I’m usually trying to get a glowing-magic-light effect too) and they always end up being very light. Is there an effect I should avoid? Should I just draw them even darker in expectation of this result? I’ve scoured all the reference-for-drawing-POC posts, but they don’t seem to cover my question. Thanks!

hello, i’m afraid i don’t know of any such blogs, but i could give you some advice, maybe, even though i’m not an artist? 

under a read more because i used many pictures so the post would be a pain to scroll past.

i do edits on photoshop, and the easiest way to avoid whitewashing when it comes to filters, effects or psds is to edit the picture once it’s been applied. (well, that’s a lie, the easiest way is to color each picture individually because no filter can be properly suited for every tone or color, including skin color).

So: let’s say you have a person with dark skin. let’s go with this picture: 

I add a random psd/filter, and it ends up whitewashing her: 

(i purposefully chose one that would wash her off, for explanation porpuses). now, i know how to do this on photoshop, but if you don’t have photoshop, you can check out photopea, or any editing app that lets you edit brightness, contrast hue, saturation and tone. 

any case is different, but for this one, adding contrast, turning down the brightness, enhancing reds (but with a bit of a cyan undertone), and adjusting the yellows a little gives more or less the effect the PSD was intended to give: desaturated reds and yellows turned green-ish, with no cyan tones:

it’s not ideal: the quality of the picture was affected due to the heavy editing and it’s not...vibrant. however, it’s an improvement on the one with the unedited filter.

for reference, and to make another point, this is the same psd on a white girl: 

personally, i dont like it at al  (there is such a thing as “too pale”, look at how it makes her hair look...you can barely see her eyebrows), but the important thing is the third picture: the one with the “no whitewashing” edition. notice how the background looks pixelated? how her skin has a purple-ish undertone? see that the first girl i edited doesn’t have the same problem? thats because coloring is different for every picture. a psd that works well for a light skinned person with a dark background is not going to work with a brown person in a well-lit setting. the opposite is also true: a psd or filter that works well for a person with dark skin is unlikely to look as good in a person with light skin. 

tldr: you can apply the filter you’re using if you’d like, but see the pictures on a case-by-case basis. if you’re always going to use the same one, you can --as you say-- preemptively color the drawing so that the person looks good with that filter, or you can recolor the picture afterwards with an editing tool of your choise. 

ideally, to avoid the loss of quality, you’d find a filter that can be directly used with dark skin, but make sure that it works with every setting, or that you have one for every setting. there’s PSDs that are made for people with dark skin, and they look beautiful if, for example, the person in question is standing against a light background, but as soon as the bg is dark, the settings make it so that you can’t tell apart the background from the person. 

even more ideally, you learn to make a similar effect yourself. that way, you get to choose the settings. if i hadn’t used that pale filter on the first girl, and if i had colored the picture myself, i could’ve make it look like this: 

which, in my opinion, looks far better than adding the filter and then fixing it up, in all respects (tone, clarity, contrast... maybe it’s a little oversaturated, but i kinda like colorful stuff) ~mod ara

[howtodownloadgta5installer8]

Grand Theft Auto 5 is re-released on Mobile phone, as well, such as Android as well as IOS. So GTA 5 Android is precisely similar to the PC/Consoles variation, and also the storyline as well as video game mechanics are simply made mobile with the very same gameplay, so it is ideal for the mobile gamers out there. Generally, the adjustments that are made in GTA V mobile is simply the control and also game mechanism. Riding the vehicles appears rather very easy due to the easy control mechanism developed by RAGE specifically for mobile phones.

After each unsafe battle, gamers can stop anywhere to see the views of the city. Each scene in this video game is carefully brightened in terms of the image. So it is not just a disorderly location however additionally consists of much poetic appeal. They when fell short, however after that they found each other as well as the distinction in their characters is what links them to ending up being a group. Since then, they have been associated with numerous significant missions, showing opposition to the federal government and also at the same time ruining other terrifying opponents in the underworld. Therefore, if you are a player who suches as to check out the criminal world.

Whenever a phone is seen on promotions, it constantly has a battery life with one segment missing out on (the battery degree seems at 69%, another referral to the 69 sex position). Nonetheless, personality's phones have unlimited battery life. In older editions of the video game, if the player has twin handguns possessed and also gets a telephone call, Carl will certainly pull out two phones. In the console variations of the video game, the phone can likewise be used as a type of "super handbrake", to immediately quit any lorry, regardless of the speed.

As an example, the police car chase in the game has actually been completely redone, and the financial institution heist goal. The enhanced variation of the game also includes the brand-new moped automobile, which can go across the countryside without excessive problem. The storyline is based on the famous book/poem 'We Are Older' created by William Christner.

As GTA V go back to Xbox's prominent Game Pass from Thursday, it has also been exposed that the game will certainly now be usable on smart phones also. Make an entrance directly right into the activity ofGTA 5 Mobileby downloading the records at this moment! You should merely get snap for Android catch and you're great to go. Try not to squander your time on remote recurring communications or emulators with different designs.

The video game is presently offered for consoles as well as Windows PC. It will be released for PlayStation 5 and also Xbox Collection X in late 2021. There is also an on the internet multiplayer mode where up to 30 gamers check out the open world where each gamer can engage into a cooperative or competitive communication in between themselves. This video game series is very well-known by players and reviewers for it having a flexible story and also packed with activity. This GTA 5 for Android has the very same feature as the COMPUTER variation and PS3/PS4 variation have. The only thing that differs in this variation is you can not play this video game on your android devices in the first-person setting. We are still attempting to make it possible on this variation.

Keep in mind, you'll be play the prominent video game just by means of Heavy steam Web link, which is the electronic distribution service. Superstar additionally stated that although it may shed some "functionality", it will get new functions also. Rockstar explained it as being a modern phone, with Dan Houser claiming that the player will utilize it for points like "accessing the internet",.

The other one is created apples iphone, iPads, as well as various iDevices that are suitabled for boosting the video game. GTA BOOM is the original source for all points Grand Theft Auto. We are the only web site committed to posting day-to-day GTA information and have the largest collection of GTA video game overviews available anywhere. Making use of the invincibility cellular phone cheat codePlease read our FAQ if you experience any concerns using these cheats, or if you have any type of questions.

More information was released on the internet site on 24 August, 6 September, and also 13 September. Superstar Gamings first confirmed the video game's existence on 25 October 2011 in a news on its main internet site as well as Twitter feed. Take-Two Interactive's share cost subsequently raised by 7 per cent. Journalists claimed the announcement ignited substantial anticipation within the gaming industry, which they owed to the series' social value. The game did not meet its original projected March-- May 2013 launch day. By 30 October 2012, advertising posters had spread to the Internet, as well as a listing by the store Video game had actually leaked the projected release date.

Superstar Games made their fortune from this highly popular along with questionable franchise. The whole series redefined the benchmark of open globe video gaming. Grand Theft Auto V is the most up to date entry in the schedule, initially released on PlayStation 3 as well as Xbox 360 in 2013.

If you bought the video game from one more Store, you would certainly need to include the executable data of the game to Heavy steam. The designer did an excellent job on their criteria and pictures. The programmer attempted to keep all the features as well as move the video game to Android phones and also tablet computers without shedding performance. If you have not attempted the video game yet, after that we advise that you do it today. This video game is not a main advancement of Rockstar Gamings. The game is badly enhanced, so it will be difficult to run it on the majority of mobile phones.

These two games are additionally quite prominent till now in the whole Grand Theft Auto collection as a result of a selection of factors. In this modern-day pc gaming age, Graphics decide how effective any type of game is. There is no contrast between the graphics of GTA 5 and GTA San Andreas, GTA 5 features superb and top quality graphics that look much more practical than GTA San Andreas. We understand there is a major distinction in between the release date of both of these video games, yet to be extremely truthful GTA 5 is a clear victor based on facts as well as logic. Thousands of individuals are now able to play this GTA 5 on their Android devices.

If you remember i have posted GTA 5 Lite 100MB variation prior to however this game is various. This video game is created by MikeGaming who has a working YouTube Network. You will reach play Its GTA5 mod apk Mission with nearly all main video game information on it Grand Theft Auto 5 was launched in 2013 as well as is still among one of the most played games, many thanks to its ever growing on-line mode called GTA Online. And also while the game does not have a mobile version, it's really possible to play on your Android phone if you want. The video game very first released on the Xbox 360 as well as PlayStation 3, after that made its means to PC.

We will certainly upgrade brand-new functioning download links immediately. Do not hesitate to ask your any kind of question pertaining to this tutorial with remark area, we will reply you shortly. After seeing lots of passion of Android users in the direction of GTA 5, Rockstar has determined to make this video game feasible to run on Android OS. SO they had developed as well as introduced GTA 5 Apk in beta variation.

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The initial point that you were mosting likely to require to do is confirm that your device hardware is established as well as effective enough to run the video game to begin with. If you  would certainly love nothing greater than to have the possibility to play this groundbreaking game on your favored Android gadgets, you're going to require to get your hands on a correct GTA 5 APK. No, the GTA 5 APK is not established by the official GTA engineer. Some game engineers have actually created the mobile APK variation.

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That song is a streamlined version of the GTA I motif's history music. It was also the pager's ringtone in GTA III, as well as remained in the GTA Vice City introduction under the retro Rockstar Gamings logo design. If the gamer switches or discharges weapons after a call, the phone will certainly not disappear on CJ's hand. Switching to other weapons, or entering an auto would after that remove this technique. If Carl has his phone out as well as encounters water being splashed from a Firetruck, chances are that if he is simply completing a conversation as well as is about to put his phone away, he instead will keep it in his hand.

[its-ya-boi-autumn]

Butterflies/Chapter 5

Warning: strong language

Chrollo: Tia, are you sure?

You: Of course~ no one is home and they most likely won’t be until really late tonight. My parents leave me home alone a lot.

Chrollo responded differently than how she thought he might, but at the same time what else could she have expected? They just met and she was already inviting him in her home. It was risky, but she wanted to see him.

Chrollo: How about we meet somewhere else first, like at the cafe downtown?

You: What’s wrong with you coming over here?

Chrollo: I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable or anything.

You: But I’m not! I feel safer with you than anyone else. I know I just met you yesterday but nobody else has treated me like this…

After Celestia sent her message, she immediately regretted it. She should have kept it to herself. Why did she tell him that? He probably thought she was insane. That she was weak. Maybe she just messed everything up. Maybe he wouldn’t want to see her anymore. She realized then that she was becoming more and more attached. This was stupid. This was dumb. This wasn’t her. She felt like crying. Why did she always mess everything up? Celestia was already typing the words to tell him never mind her but he replied before she said anything else.

Chrollo: Alright. I can’t stay long though, I don’t want your parents to be angry with you. Or me for that matter.

All her previous feelings from not even a second ago faded. Her face brightened again. Her body bounced on the mattress and she squeaked. Celestia had never had anyone over before. What would they do? She searched around her room. She didn’t have much, everything used for entertainment was downstairs. She didn’t have money to go out either. She was just so excited to invite him over that she didn’t even think about anything else.

You: I don’t have much to do. So maybe leaving the house is a better idea… but I don’t have any money.

Chrollo: I’ll take care of it. Do you like coffee?

Celestia hadn’t had coffee in a long time. All the coffee they had was for her dad. If she even dared to go so much as near it, she’d be done for. She remembered the taste though. The one time Mr. Nymph had brought coffee to school and she asked for a sip. The relaxing aroma of it and the taste of pure coffee beans warm on her tongue. She remembered the flow of it as it passed through her body.

You: Yes, I haven’t had it in a while though.

Chrollo: I’ll come pick you up here in a couple minutes. Be ready okay?

You: :)

Celestia squealed in her head. She hadn’t felt this happy in a long time. Not since she got accepted to Silver Sycamore. What should she wear? Should she fix her makeup? Should she find her mom’s perfume? Celestia silently padded downstairs. Though no one was home, it was almost second nature to stay completely silent in the house. She turned down the hallway and gently pushed open the door to her parents room. Of course, no one was there, but for some reason she expected her mother to be laying in bed drinking her tea.

Celestia glanced around the room again, looking for something that might indicate where her mother’s beauty products might be. Somewhere her father wouldn’t mind leaving it. Her father hated makeup and despised perfumes. Though, Celestia knew she had them somewhere. Her mother didn’t just naturally smell like hibiscus and lilac. Celestia turned to double check, making sure no one was around. She entered the room carefully. The closet was the first place she decided to try. The sliding mirror of the door creaked as it opened. The sound made Celestia’s ears hurt. How had she never heard this before at night? It was so loud.

Her ears ringing, Celestia moved over some clothes near the walls and around the corners. Nothing. She put everything back neatly- or messily- where she found it, closing the door with another loud creak. She winced at the sound again. She checked under the bed and in the dresser drawers. She didn’t find a single bottle. She could smell it though. Flowers filled her nose with a pleasant scent. Celestia followed it. Behind the dresser were three bottles that reeked of overwhelming florals. Odd. She couldn’t smell it unless she was next to them.

She tried with all her strength to move the dresser over. It wouldn’t budge. Her arms weren’t long enough to reach the bottles either. Maybe she could use something to grab them. There wasn’t much she could use in the room. She smelled her clothes. It wasn’t that she smelled bad, she just wanted to smell different. Just putting on clean clothes should have been enough though. Plus, she was sure Chrollo wouldn’t notice much, even if she did smell like hibiscus and lilac.

She left the room exactly where she found it, going back upstairs to change before Chrollo came to pick her up. She changed into some dark skinny jeans, a simple black t shirt and some low top sneakers. She’d never dress like this normally. She tucked the shirt in, adding a bright red bandana headband to contrast with her hair. She liked it. Simple, yet she still looked nice. Casual. It was a little warmer today as well, but she’d bring a jacket just in case. Chrollo was sweet, but she was sure he wouldn’t give her his hoodie. That would be embarrassing to expect. Celestia tied the jacket around her waist to enhance what little curves she had. She was getting thinner still. Not close to anorexic yet, but a small thigh gap had started to form between her thighs and her stomach sunk in without her inhaling. What would he think of that? Would Chrollo think she was gross?

She pushed the thought out of her mind. She had to stay positive, stay happy. She had to look like everything was fine. He couldn’t find out. Not now. A honk signaled someone was in front of her house. She went to check, making sure it was Chrollo. The white car was parked parallel to her front door. Celestia smiled, grabbing her phone just in case. She raced to the door, opening it and strolling to the car, pretending she wasn’t ecstatic about seeing him. When she opened the door and sat down, Chrollo greeted her with a smile.

“Good evening Tia, how was school?” he smiled with his eyes. Celestia returned that smile, the nickname sounding sweet off his tongue.

“It was good, nothing really happened.” she spoke softly since there was no need to be loud. She didn’t mention the stares and whispers from the girls across the cafeteria or even how nobody was really messing with her anymore.

“That’s good, I’m glad. We won’t be out too long. I’d feel bad to cause you another panic attack like at the bookstore. I was worried for the rest of the night.”

I was worried for the rest of the night.

He worried about her. She now wished she would have said something to him, letting him know she was okay. Telling him that nothing happened to her.

“Sorry about that, I just didn’t want it to seem awkward. I felt like it’d seem weird if I just texted you immediately when I got home…” she let herself be honest about it. Celestia kept her head down, not able to look at him. A part of her thought that sounded stupid.

“Oh Tia… you don’t have to worry about that. I wouldn’t have minded.” he replied softly. He finally started the car, moving forward to go downtown.

“Have you started Endurance yet?” he started a conversation suddenly. Celestia whipped her head around, all of her attention on him.

“Yes actually! I’m almost done now.” she smiled. Chrollo widened his eyes in surprise.

“That’s good! What part are you at?” he actually wanted to talk to her. She went on about the story, talking about how good it was and that he had been right. It felt like she was right there with Shackleton as he explained the story to her. The detail in the novel invoked intensity on her physically and mentally. She was in love with it. Chrollo listened the whole time, not interrupting at any point until the end.

“Ah I see. So when is your report due?”

“In a few weeks, we don’t have an exact date yet.” she checked her phone. It was almost dead! She audibly gasped without realizing. For a moment, Chrollo’s attention was on her and her only.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, facing back to the road.

“Nothing serious, sorry. My phone is just nearly dead and I didn’t bring my charger…” she lied. It was serious. Very serious. If someone messaged her and she didn’t answer… she didn’t even want to think about it.

“Here, I have a similar charger I think.” Chrollo pulled out a cord from the small compartment in the middle of their seats. The cord matched her phone and she plugged it in. A charging symbol appeared briefly on her screen. She smiled.

“Thank you Chrollo.” she set her phone down in the middle compartment. Chrollo nodded, turning his attention back to the road.

Downtown was a lot busier than usual. Her stomach twisted slightly at the sight of so many people in one spot. She wouldn't panic today. Not in front of him. Not again. Celestia leaned back in her seat and focused on her window. The people that passed by were a blur now. It made her feel a little better. A voice suddenly came from the radio. She turned her attention from the window to see Chrollo’s hand on the dial.

“You seem nervous, so I’ll try some music for you. Any recommendations?” he asked. A black cord was plugged into the radio port and Chrollo took out his phone. The man on the radio’s voice stopped entirely. The car was silent, Chrollo waiting for her to reply.

“Um… Beethoven?” she tried. Chrollo gave her a surprised look.

“You like compositions?” he scrolled through his phone, turning on Piano Sonata 8 for her. She smiled, nodding.

“That’s interesting. I also enjoy a good classic. I prefer Mozart myself.” he smiled as well, keeping his eyes on the road until they arrived near the beach.

The café near the beach, a relatively smaller place that didn’t look too busy for her to function in. She’d only been there once, and barely even went inside. She had been waiting for her mother to order some tea. Celestia would have gone in with her, but her mother stopped her at the door, saying children weren't allowed. At the time, she knew this wasn’t true, but she didn’t dare go against her mother. Not that she feared being hit by her, but her father would have had her ass for it.

“Have you been here before?” Chrollo had turned the music down, waiting for Celestia to answer. She shook her head, not entirely lying but she hadn’t ever seen the menu, so technically it was the truth.

“I think you’ll like it.” he chuckled. Celestia kept the sound in her memory, storing it away in the back of her head. He had a nice laugh. Chrollo parked close to the door, shutting off the car and getting out before her. Celestia was in the middle of taking her phone off the charger when her car door opened. Chrollo had opened it for her, smiling down at her. The gentlemanly gesture made her shiver. She stepped out of the car and he closed the door behind her, leading her into the little shop.

Bright floral lights greeted her as soon as she walked through the glass doors. Sunlight flooded in from all sides, huge windows taking up most- if not all- of the wall space. Pink and white tables and chairs scattered around the cream linoleum flooring. The center counter was covered in flowers and crammed with sweets. Cakes, bagels, sandwiches, and other foods filled the glass case to the brim. A chalkboard hung close by with specials written in colorful lettering and the main menu was lit around the rim with string lights. Celestia smiled at the delightful sight. Chrollo took notice, staring down at her. He was studying her reactions, her in general. What was she like, what did she like, and how did she react? All of these would be essential later.

“It’s so pretty~” Celestia praised the hard work everyone had put in here. A barista caught her attention, asking if they could help. It startled her, so Chrollo moved forward first. Celestia followed close behind.

“Do you know what you want?” Chrollo whispered to her as she came up behind him.

“Just a regular black coffee please…” her voice was small, shy. Chrollo was slightly surprised. He expected something different. He ordered for the two of them, receiving the two tall disposable cups almost immediately after paying.

“Thank you…” Celestia spoke first after receiving her hot coffee, the warmth filling her hands. She had to hold it with both since the cup was rather large. She set herself up at a table, waiting for Chrollo to follow suit. He sat across from her.

“Black coffee huh?” he laughed. Celestia glanced up from her cup.

“What about it?” she didn’t understand why he was laughing at her. Was it weird?

“I just expected you to prefer something else. Something sweeter.” he explained, taking a sip from his. Celestia did the same. The coffee was hot. She didn’t know what she expected.

“I mean I do like sweet stuff,” she wiped her mouth with a nearby napkin, “but I’ve never had anything too sweet coffee wise. I just didn’t want to order something I’d end up not liking.”

“Ah, I wouldn’t have minded.” he gave her another smile. Celestia blushed again behind her cup, hiding her face. She felt goosebumps on her arms. Cold, she put her jacket over her arms. The warmth provided was minimal, but enough for the time being. She continued to shiver despite the feeling. Chrollo furrowed his brows.

“Are you cold?” he asked as if it weren’t obvious. She nodded.

“Yeah a little, but I’m sure I’ll be okay…”

“I can give you my jacket, I feel like I’m overheating.” he offered. A chill ran up her spine for a different reason, though she shook her head.

“No thank you, I don’t want you to end up cold later.” she replied. Chrollo nodded, taking off the jacket he wore and setting it down on the chair behind him. She could have said yes, could have felt the warmth he provided, but she felt that it was awkward. She didn’t want anyone to think they were dating.

They sat in silence for most of the time, increments of conversation coming up every now and then. Chrollo could tell something was going on just by how reserved and private she was. Though, Celestia could have very well just been nervous. With the way she said people treated her though, there had to be more to it than just being a shy young girl.

They stayed and talked until the sunlight in the café turned orange and pink. Chrollo took notice and checked his phone.

“It’s almost 7. Would you like me to take you back?” he set his phone down, resting his chin on his hands.

“I probably should be getting back… she stood, picking up their disposable cups and throwing them away. Chrollo wasn’t far behind her, glancing around the café at anyone who passed. He politely opened the door for her to exit.

“Did you still want to come over for a little while? No one’s home and I don’t really have much to do…” she offered one more time. It was likely he’d say no, but she still wanted to try. Chrollo sighed.

“Alright, but just for a little while. I don’t know how long I can stay.” he obliged. Celestia audibly squealed in delight, nearly sprinting to the car. Chrollo laughed at her excitement. She went to open the car door, but it was locked.

“Hey!” she turned to confront him, a smile still making way in her face. He returned it, walking to the other side of the car to unlock the doors. The two of them stepped inside and started moving.

“So, why do you want me to come over so bad?” Chrollo chuckled. Celestia continued to stare out the window, shrugging her shoulders.

“I don’t know, I just like spending time with you. You don’t have to if it makes you feel uncomfortable.” she replied. She started messing with the cuticles on her fingernails, pulling them off and discreetly throwing them on the floor. She knew it was a bad habit and she hoped he hadn’t noticed it.

“I enjoy your company too, Tia. But are you sure you want me to come over? What will your parents do if-“

“They won’t know. They don’t come home until late. You can leave before then.” she accidentally cut him off, covering her mouth.

“Sorry… I didn’t mean to cut you off…” she felt her face flush for the millionth time that day. Chrollo didn’t respond with anger as she had expected, instead, he laughed again. Genuine laughter. She could listen to it all day.

“You’re okay. You don’t have to worry so much with me, I won’t yell at you for anything.” he promised. Celestia couldn’t help but peer at him out of the corner of her eye. He was so kind. Why? Everyone else made it seem like she was a terrible person, but Chrollo made her feel different.

They pulled up at the end of the street. He must have remembered what she said last time. It’s better to park somewhere not too close to the house just in case someone was home. Chrollo turned off the car, following Celestia out and to her house. She checked the door to see if it was locked. She twisted the handle, opening it with ease and holding up her hand.

“Wait here. I didn’t see a car, but I’m going to double check just in case…” she whispered. Chrollo gave her a confused face, but nodded. She acted like something terrible would happen if she brought him in. If that was the case, then why even risk it?

Celestia crept into the door, double checking to make sure Chrollo was still there. She dipped around in her parents room and in the rooms upstairs. No one was home. She came back to him at the door, signaling he was safe. Chrollo entered and shut the door behind him. He stayed close to her as she led him upstairs to her room.

“It’s not much, we don’t have too much money. Most likely my fault, my mom wanted me to go to a good school.” she warned, remembering that Chrollo had a lot of money and that her house might look completely abhorrent to what he was used to. She creaked open her bedroom door.

“Ta-da…” she joked, slightly laughing at what was considered a bedroom. Chrollo frowned.

“Oh dear…” it was more sympathetic than rude, but Celestia still felt a pang in her chest. At the very least, she cleaned her room a little that morning before leaving for school. She covered the stains on her mattress with the thin blanket she had so she wouldn’t look as dirty.

“I know… it’s okay though, it’s enough for me.” she faked a small smile at Chrollo. He still gave her a concerned look. Worrying.

“Alright, do you mind if I sit down on your bed?” he kept his voice low as he gestured for the mattress on her floor. She plopped down on it, patting the spot next to her. Chrollo wasn’t super tall, but his legs took up most of his body. He squatted down and bounced a little on the mattress. Celestia looked around her room for something.

“I don’t have much, and my tv isn’t too interesting, but I have a DS we can play.” she suggested. A purple DS was stashed somewhere in her closet. She jumped up to go and grab it, moving clothes over to find it. She tried her best to hide the enormous pile of dirty clothes on the floor. The smell was just wafting past her nose when she found the device and shut the door. She checked to see if it was charged. A full battery flashed on the screen, making her smile. She handed it to Chrollo.

“I don’t play video games much, but I wouldn’t mind watching you.” he said, a hand waving to decline. Celestia hummed, sitting back down next to him and starting up the game she had. She tried to start up conversation while playing.

“What are some hobbies you have?” she asked him, keeping her eyes on the game. Chrollo was a little startled by her question, but answered nonetheless.

“I enjoy reading and spending time with people close to me. I don’t do much.” he replied, laughing lightly. Celestia smiled.

“It’s okay I don’t do much either. I mostly watch what I can on tv and play this DS.” she felt the device vibrate in her hands. Her character died and she whined to herself. A warmth hovered over her. She glanced up to see Chrollo leaning over her shoulder. Instead of being frightened, she leaned a little closer. They hadn’t touched yet, but she hoped a little that they would. She shifted her attention back to her game, starting the level over again.

A loud bang sounded through the house, making her character die again. Celestia jumped.

“Fuck!” her dad's voice echoed through the house. Celestia was already shaking before she could stop herself. More slamming occurred through the halls of the house. Celestia eyed Chrollo. He hadn’t flinched, just sat where he was still leaning over Celestia, his eyes on the door. A mumble indicated her mother trying to calm him down.

“I am not taking that piece of shit with me Naomi!” he yelled. He was talking about a Celestia. There was nothing he hated more than her.

“Nick she doesn’t even have to be close to you, she can move somewhere else-“

“I can’t take her to the boss! She’ll make me look fucking terrible, she always does. She’s a shit eating brat and I wish she’d fucking kill herself! It’d take the burden off of me!” another smack on the counter. Celestia could hear him shaking in rage just by his voice alone. Stomping up the stairs made her jump into action.

“Go! Hide in the closet, I’m sorry for the smell-“ she pushed Chrollo into her closet, shutting the door and hiding the DS under her bed before her dad opened the door. She fell onto her mattress, staring up at him. His face was beat red, anger radiating off of his whole being. Her father stormed up to her, shoving a crumpled sheet of paper into her chest and winding her.

“I’m being forced to take your dumbass to the fucking dance with Angel May next week. You’d better fucking behave or I’ll fucking kill you, do you hear me Celestia Marie? Am I fucking clear?” he was practically spitting in her face. She bit back her tears, unable to stop shaking. He was so close to her face she could see the veins starting to pop in his forehead.

“Yes Daddy…” she uttered, trying to keep her voice steady even though her fear was obvious. Her father stood up to his full height, his breathing still heavy as he slammed the door behind him. Celestia was left shaking again, as she had every other time he spoke to her. She felt as if she couldn’t breathe, her throat and chest completely constricted. A slight crack sounded from the closet. Chrollo peeked out of the doorway. Celestia didn’t move, afraid she’d collapse if she stood. Chrollo crept out towards her, careful not to scare her.

“Are you alright Tia?” he whispered, trying not to make a sound. He glanced at the door to make sure her father didn’t come back. Celestia didn’t respond, completely unable to.

And then she started crying.

She had learned to keep quiet when she sobbed, covering her face and hiding it from Chrollo. He wasn’t supposed to find out. Not yet. Not like this. Chrollo put his hands on her shoulders and kept her close to him. He didn’t envelope her in fear it might cause more panic for her.

It took a while, but eventually she stopped crying, feeling empty.

“I’m sorry…” she apologized. She felt awful for having him witness that. She didn’t mean for him to. She should have known better. She was just so excited that he had agreed. At least her dad didn’t notice Chrollo in the room.

“They usually don’t come home until after midnight… it’s rare they come home any earlier, and that’s normally around 10 or 11…” she sniffles in between words, wiping her nose on her sleeve. Snot glistened in the dim light of the room and she hid her arm so Chrollo wouldn’t see it. Celestia couldn’t even bring herself to look at him. Her face was probably swollen and her mascara was run down her face. A sigh sounded over her head.

“It’s not your fault, you didn’t think about it. Don’t worry, I don’t think any less of you.” his words were simple but completely unexpected. She didn’t know what to do about him now though. Her windows were bolted shut so he couldn’t get out from there. Her father would most likely be up all night from being angry with her, even if she did nothing wrong.

“I don’t know how you’re gonna get home… I-“

“I’ll stay. I don’t trust you alone here for the time being, I might not be able to do much about your dad but I’ll be here to comfort you for now. I’ll just take you to school in the morning.” he offered. Celestia whipped her head around, already shaking her head.

“But what if-“

“I’ll be okay…” he offered her a smile, calming her down slightly, but not enough. Her mind was still spinning, afraid for both of them. She stared back down at the floor. He wouldn’t leave her, not right now at least.

[colesterstrudel]

New Worlds

Elias/reader: Part three to the ‘Worlds’ series (Worlds Apart and Worlds Collide). The holiday season approaches and brings its own struggles for you and Elias. A lil bit of angst but mostly fluff.

Sometimes a family is a vampire, their vampire significant other, and all their vampire friends.

Tagging (also pls let me know if you would like to be added to my tag list bc I promise I’m working on posting fics more regularly lmao): @toxiicpop @wrestlingfae @sporadic-fics @moxleysbaby @helplessly-nonstop @cookiethewriter @thirstiswet @renegademustelid @sophiagriff @concussed-to-pieces

You hadn’t spent much time thinking about your lost family around the holidays, traditions lost along with them. It was easier to suppress those memories, those thoughts as you tried to survive undetected amongst the humans. Now, though, as you settled down with Elias, you couldn’t stop yourself from finally allowing those thoughts to come to the service. Thanksgiving was weeks away, and you were inundated with memories from your human life, surrounded by your family and all of their laughter and joy. It was a harsh contrast to how you had spent your more recent years navigating the world alone, forced to watch the humans around you celebrate the holidays with the same joy you used to feel.

At least this year you wouldn’t be alone. You had Elias with you, and that was more meaningful to you than he would ever know. As the holidays grew nearer, you spent more and more time with him, pressed against his side as he slept during the day, curled up on the couch with him in the evening. You two were practically attached at the hip, more so than usual. 

Which is why your behavior after Elias got off the phone with one of his friends was so startling for him.

The two of you were cuddled up on the couch together, each with a book in your hands. One of his arms was draped over your shoulders, pulling you even closer to him. It was peaceful, normal for the two of you, something you had come to treasure in your time spent with him. And then his phone rang, interrupting the peace and quiet that surrounded the two of you. 

Your enhanced hearing made it all too easy to hear the conversation Elias was having with his friend as he pulled himself away from you, shooting you a smile as he walked away to let you read in peace. You didn’t mean to eavesdrop, didn’t want to mess with his privacy, but at the mention of a Thanksgiving get together, you paused your reading to listen a little closer. 

The longer the conversation went on, the more you found yourself drawing your limbs in closer, folding in on yourself. You knew it was an overreaction spurred on purely due to the fact that you had been drowning in memories of the holidays with your own family. Hearing Elias set up a get together with his own friends, one that apparently happened every year, was proof that your nomadic vampire life was not as great as you had convinced yourself it was. Here Elias was, just as much a vampire as you (albeit slightly different) and he was able to have a family, friends, who allowed his holiday traditions to live on for eternity. And you weren’t even enough to convince any other nomadic vampires to let you tag along with them for longer than a couple days. 

When Elias finally hung up the phone, his soft footsteps making their way across the floor back to you, you fixed your eyes back on your book. He knew you heard the conversation with his friend, but he still explained to you the plans that were made. A group of his friends would drop by on Thanksgiving and they’d have a feast akin to those they had in their human lives. Everyone would bring their own favorite dishes and catch up, celebrate the holiday together. 

As he sat back down on the couch, arm moving to settle around your shoulders again, you stood up quickly, setting your book down on the coffee table in the same movement. With a forced smile you told Elias you would go for a walk and before he could ask if you wanted him to tag along you were halfway into the woods behind his house. 

Forgetting the almost hurt look on his face as you practically ran out of the house was hard, almost impossible, and it haunted you for the entirety of your walk. You knew you were overreacting, that there was a better way to respond to his news. Despite that, there was a part of you that was so hurt that he was able to maintain his humanity through his traditions with his family and friends while you were alone for so long, forced to navigate your new life with no one.

The longer you walked, the more you grieved for your lost family and friends, your lost holiday celebrations. You felt the peculiar prickle in your sinus cavities, a feeling you hadn’t experienced in a long time. The feeling you get right before you start crying. Of course, now there were no tears at all, only the uncomfortable dry prickling, causing you even more distress. Elias could cry, you had seen it when the two of you were comparing the differences in your physiology. It was just one more thing Elias had that you didn’t, and you felt the familiar pull of resentment deep in your chest. He didn’t deserve it, of course, Elias was the best thing that had happened to you since you woke up alone as a vampire all those years ago. Even still, the feeling continued to grow as you looped back toward his house.

You should’ve expected to see him standing on the back porch when you returned, his eyes scanning the woods closely to see you coming back. The look on his face was worried, mouth set in a grim line until he finally caught a flash of you between the trees. Immediately, his eyes softened and a smile pulled at the corner of his lips. Here he was, waiting for you with a smile while you spent hours starting to resent him. You didn’t deserve Elias, not even a little bit, but you let him pull you into his arms, allowed him to tuck your head under his chin and press a kiss to your hair. 

“Are you alright, princess?” he asked, voice as soft as his eyes were mere moments ago.

“I’m fine,” you brushed off his concern, easily slipping out of his arms. “Just wanted to breathe in the autumn air, ya know.”

“I could’ve gone with you,” Elias offered, following you into the house.

“Didn’t you have plans to be making?” Try as you might, you couldn’t stop the tension, the bitterness, from worming its way into your voice. You heard the sharp inhale of breath from behind you, able to picture the questioning look on Elias’ face perfectly. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked again, more intent this time as you resumed sitting on the couch, this time on the far end from where the two of you sat before.

“Elias. I’m fine.” Avoiding his gaze on your face, you picked your book back up and kept reading from where you left off. The silence was heavy between the two of you as Elias stood there, dumbfounded as he looked at you. Finally, he realized you weren’t going to look up at him any time soon and he padded away into his bedroom. 

When the sad strains of a guitar being played hit your ears, you put your book down again, tucking your limbs into yourself as you settled into a ball on the couch. You had hurt his feelings, your overreaction to his idyllic life, and the worst thing was that you weren’t sure if you completely regretted it. 

---

The next week was weird, to say the very least. Instead of going to bed with Elias, snuggling with him as he slept during the day, you stayed in the living room with your books. When he started trying to stay awake all day to spend that time with you, neglecting his need for rest and encroaching on the space you needed to be grumpy, you started going outside. Here, Elias couldn’t follow you and you were finally granted the space you needed. At first, you could sense him watching you through his bedroom window, eyes watching the sun dance across your skin, but you didn’t acknowledge him. After a few days, he no longer watched you through his window before falling asleep, ignoring the fact you were even out there.

In the evenings, you locked yourself away in one of the spare bedrooms, spending most of the time staring at the walls around you. For a while, Elias paced back and forth in front of the door and you could hear his lips brushing together when he readied himself to say something, anything, to you. But as the time passed, you heard him shut himself away in his own room, the sound of the guitar making its way down the hallway to your ears.

It was the worst week you’d had since moving in with Elias, starting a new life with him. No longer the nomadic vampire you were merely months ago, you had him by your side constantly. But now, your emotions were getting the best of you and you couldn’t even appreciate the fact you had him, that he was your family. You wouldn’t allow yourself to. All you could do was think about how he had his family, how he never had to lose what you had to. And then the cycle of negativity and grief started all over again.

---

“You haven’t drank in a week, I can tell. Now either open this door and come get your mug or I’ll bust the door down.” Elias said from outside your door, two days before his Thanksgiving gathering. 

“I’m not thirsty,” you argued, rolling your eyes at yourself for sounding like such a petulant child.

“Please don’t make me break this door down,” Elias answered quickly, as if he was expecting you to say something like that. “Come on, princess, you really need to drink. And we need to talk.”

With a sigh, you climbed out of the bed and unlocked the door to the bedroom. It opened slowly, revealing Elias’ face. His eyes were guarded, tense, but softened when he finally saw you. You stared at each other in silence for a moment before he guided you to the kitchen. Wordlessly, he handed you a warm mug - his favorite, you noticed - and sat down across the table from you. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, knowing your normal speaking voice would be too loud for this situation.

“It’s no problem,” he assured you, eyes studying you as you drank. 

And then it was quiet again, eery. The atmosphere was cold and uninviting, the exact opposite of what you were used to in this house. Elias still looked guarded but hurt at the same time, barely concealed in his eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” you finally blurted out, pushing the mug away from you. “I’ve been awful to you this whole week and you didn’t deserve that. I’m so sorry.”

“What’s been going on with you, princess? You’ve been drawing back for so long...Do you want to leave?” Elias looked upset at the prospect, but you knew he would let you go if that’s what you wanted. 

“No!” you nearly shouted, lunging forward to take his hand in your own. “I don’t want to leave. Ever. You’re stuck with me until you decide to let me go,” you assured him, offering a half smile. “I just...The holidays are a weird time for me. And ever since I was turned, I was able to forget about my family and what I was missing around the holidays. But then I found you and you’re so different, your life such a contrast to mine but we still fit, we still get along so well. And I was starting to feel normal, being here with you. But then you got that phone call about the Thanksgiving gathering you have with your friends and it hurt that you got to have your family, celebrate with them and maintain your traditions while I couldn’t even find anyone to be with for so long before I found you. And I was feeling sorry for myself, I guess, and I just needed some space, needed to work through it, I guess.”

It was silent as your words settled and Elias let it all process. And then his hand was tightening around yours as he stood up and moved over to your side of the table, pulling you into his arms. Your fingers tightened in his shirt, grasping handfuls of the fabric as he held you close. 

“I’m so sorry you felt like that for so long,” he murmured into your hair, arms tightening around you even more. “I never even considered what this get together would be like for you. I was just excited to introduce you to my friends, to celebrate with you. But if it’s too hard for you, I can cancel and it can be just me and you.” At that, he separated from your embrace, pulling back to look you in the eyes. “You’re my family, princess, I hope you know that. And I hope you feel the same way, so I don’t want you to feel like you’re alone. Not anymore. Not with me.”

The prickling behind your eyes was back, and all you wanted in that moment was to be able to cry. Instead, dry sobs racked your body as you moved back into Elias’ arms, crushing him to you. “I love you,” you sighed, tucking your head into his neck. 

Elias stiffened in your hold momentarily before his hands went to the sides of your face, tilting your head up to him. “I love you, too.” And then his lips were on yours and the universe righted itself again. 

---

For hours afterward, the two of you discussed your human celebrations for the holidays. You told him all about your family’s huge spread, how every year you forgot ice and had to send a cousin out quickly before dinner. There was always at least one heated game of Uno with the cousins while all the adults settled around the table and napped and watched football. It was the one time of year that you could see all your family members, the ones scattered all around the country. It was a great time every year and you looked forward to the annual celebration. 

Elias, on the other hand, had a more lowkey family celebration. His consisted of only his immediate family, all cozy and gathered in his house. He spent years side by side with his mother the night before Thanksgiving baking a pumpkin pie. It’s his favorite dessert and something he looked forward to every year. He hadn’t had one since he was turned and had to leave his family behind, but he was fine with it. He found his new family, his friends, and that was all that mattered to him. 

By the time your discussion was over, the sun was up and Elias grabbed your hand, leading you to his room. He was exhausted, you could tell, and he told you sheepishly that he hadn’t been sleeping well for the past week as he was so concerned about you. Now, though, he settled into bed easily with his arms wrapped around you and fell asleep quickly. 

You watched him as he slept, thinking about what all he told you about his own family holiday traditions. The fact that he’s missed out in his favorite dessert for years stuck with you, even though he made it sound like it was fine. Still, when he rolled over in his sleep, you climbed out of bed, intent to do something special for him. He deserved it for opening his home, his life, to you and for dealing with your whirlwind of emotions for the past week. And you knew just what would show him you appreciated him. 

---

Baking was harder now since you couldn’t rely on your tastebuds to tell you how things were coming along. Instead, you had to settle for just using your sense of smell. You followed the recipe you found to the letter, precisely measuring each ingredient and hoping beyond hope that the pie turned out well. 

Just as you were pulling it out of the oven, sniffing the air to see how it worked out, Elias walked into the kitchen. He stopped short, mouth agape as you placed the pie on the counter. 

“What’s this?” he finally asked, walking closer to you. 

“I um. Wanted to do something for you. And this way I contributed to this little gathering tonight, too. I hope it tastes okay, I followed this recipe I found but I don’t know-“ you rambled, wringing your hands together as you looked at the pie in front of you. 

Before you could finish your thought, Elias wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close, pressing a kiss to your lips. His eyes glimmered in the light of the kitchen as he pulled away, a soft smile on his face. “It looks perfect. Thank you.”

Hours later when all of his friends arrived, he introduced you to each of them individually. You sat right by his side during the meal, laughing and joking with all of his friends while they ate and reminisced on their long lives lived. Looking around the table, you realized that you did have a family, even if they weren’t what you so fondly remembered from your human life. This family was different, more eccentric, but you wouldn’t trade them for the world. 

As Elias reached for the pumpkin pie in the center of the table, he caught your eye. The smile on his face widened when he saw the smile on your own face, one hand grabbing yours that you left on the table. He kissed your knuckles softly, squeezing your hand before turning his attention back to his pie.

This was exactly what you had been missing in your life, what you refused to think about for so long. And now with Elias, you knew you would never have to face the world alone. Not anymore. Never again. 

[kazosa]

A Mutually Beneficial Arrangement - Part 6

Summary: All you wanted was to use your skills in automotive engineering and design to open your own custom car shop. When the rug gets yanked out from under you, one of your regular customers offers you a job that you just can’t resist. Will it stay a mutually beneficial arrangement, or will something unexpected bloom?

Pairing: AU Dean Winchester x Reader

Appearances by: John Winchester, Bobby Singer, Ellen (Harvelle) Singer, Sam Winchester, Jessica Moore, Benny and Laura Lafitte, OC Jack, OC Mom

Chapter Synopsis: It’s finally the day of the Gala. Dean and the reader go check out the ballroom with Bobby. Reader and Jess have a talk. John and the Reader have a mini showdown. The end of the chapter culminates with the reveal of who gets the Family Business!

Word count: eleven thousand, eight hundred fifty

Warnings: Shameless Star Wars reference. Extremely inappropriate behavior. Mild violence. Bad language. Alcohol consumption.

Masterlist

Tagging:  @coffee-obsessed-writer  @closetspngirl  @sorenmarie87   @adoptdontshoppets  @parinarain  @his-paradox  @babykalika2001   @docharleythegeekqueen  @22sarah08  @flamencodiva  @deans-baby-momma   

@collette04  @maralisa124   @mml232   @sympathyforluci   

@superthingsilike   @lookwhatyoumademequeue  @jxnnxbrxwn  @winchest09  @sandlee44  @screechingartisancashbailiff  @31shadesofbrown  

@theconfusedcat​   @cherryofdeath 

It was Christmas Eve and finally the day of the Gala. You and Dean had gone with Bobby to the brewery warehouse in town to check on the party set up. When Dean had said he ran the floor at his dad’s brewery, what you had pictured was completely different. Your imagination had seen a small, mom & pop set up. The reality was a monster of a building that held both the brewery and the warehouse. Each was on it’s own wing with a central visitation/sampling area where people could look into the brewery or the warehouse. How he had run all of that and oversaw the dealerships, with Bobby’s help, you would never know. He had been so young at the time and had so much on his plate.

“You didn’t tell me you ran the fucking Empire! I thought you were like Endor or some shit,” you couldn’t believe the enormity of the place.

“Welcome to Winchester corporate offices and brewing facility,” Dean said in a very professional voice.

“Dude!”

Dean gave a small snort and showed you around. The offices were surprisingly modest in size and made up for what they lacked in size with rich décor. The combination of wood, brick, and steel was visually stunning and was carried to the second floor where the viewing/sampling room was located.

“Wow,” there was nothing left to say as you entered the room.

The floor kept the same square footage as the main floor with none of the walls, only the brick pillars and wooden support beams. The party people that had dressed the room, had hung Edison lights from the support beams, giving the space a glow you hadn’t expected. A small stage at one end of the floor told you a DJ would be providing the music for the gala and had large speaker towers on either side of the DJ booth.

“Thought you and your friend did research,” he kept his voice quiet.

“She did, but she didn’t say it was like this,” you waved your hand at the expanse.

“You need to up your research game,” he said.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he continued. “Like I checked on you. What the hell are you doing working for Chuck with your skills? That … car you have? Holy shit.”

You smiled when he wouldn’t say ‘Tesla’.

“Mom asked me to, you know how it is. Plus, it was nice turning his mess around. Proved to myself I could do it on my own. My Black Beauty goes faaaast.”

Dean held her hand and wondered how he could give her everything she deserved. There was no guarantee that his dad would give him anything, let alone, the business. (Y|N) had her own money and talent to get started tomorrow, if she wanted to. He was impressed with her drive and resistance to anything that would derail her dream. It just made him wonder how he would fit into her life, or she into his, once this week was done.

A bustle of people were coming into the viewing room, carrying decorations and other items, to set up for the gala. Bobby was directing, barking orders at people where to go for the set up and when he was finished, he met up with you and Dean.

“Now that these yay-hoos have things under control, whaddya say we get the cars ready?” Bobby asked, a glint in his eyes.

“Cars?” you parked up.

“The one good thing that came out of Mom dying. Dad uses cars from the dealership to run people to and from the Gala so there’s no drinking and driving,” Dean filled you in.

“Ooo, what kinds of cars?”

“Mostly the big SUVs,” Bobby answered. “Excursions, usually.”

“Oooooooo,” you said again. “You’re gonna let me drive one, right?”

You really only got into fixing cars because you loved to drive them and your dad always said that if you were going to drive ‘em hard, you’d better know how to fix ‘em. Though, your love of cars began way before you were old enough to drive…

“Why do you think I brought ya down here? Need to have a couple at the house to haul y’all down to the office.”

You were practically giddy and Dean just shook his head at you.

“I’m ready, boss, let’s roll!” you said.

“I don’t get why I can’t see you dressed up before the party,” Dean asked again.

You were back at the farm and getting ready with him in his bedroom. You weren’t sure you could exactly explain the ‘why’ of it. There was a sort of honesty that comes in a moment of surprise. You wanted to see Dean’s face. You wanted him to be proud of you. And maybe, if John saw his reaction, he would finally see that Dean really did have feelings for you.

“Don’t take away my fun. I want to surprise you,” you explained. “I want to give you the wow factor.”

“You don’t need to impress me. Trust me, you already got the guy,” Dean was puttering around the room taking care of his last minute details.

You were wearing the dress under his robe, only small hints of green and black lace peeking out from the bottom.

“Stealing my robe now?” He asked.

On an average day, Dean Winchester cut a handsome profile, but it wasn’t an average day. Dean was wearing a tuxedo for the gala, minus his jacket and shoes. A word to describe his look hadn’t been invented yet. The stark white of his shirt in contrast to the black of his slacks only enhanced his already handsome features and appeal.

He caught you staring as he fiddled with the cuffs on his shirt. “What?” He finally got his cuff link to cooperate and laid on the bed near you, not caring if he got wrinkled.

“I didn’t think you’d mind,” you said again in response to him questioning you about his clothes. “I like your things, they’re comfortable. You might wanna get a bag of back up clothes ready, in case we need to bail or just ditch the getup.”

“Oh, good call,” he agreed. He paused for a long while, his finger tracing the zig-zag design on the comforter. “No matter what happens tonight, I gotta come clean to Sam. I don’t want this cloud of lies between us.”

“Are they lies, though?” You thought the feelings were real, even if the circumstances weren’t quite as you’d led his family to believe. Your thumb touched the band on your left hand, absently rubbing the smooth metal. “The only thing not quite true is how long we’ve been together.”

“These last few days with you have been an amazing dream,” he sat up.

It sounded like there was a ‘but’ coming and you tried to ignore the feeling of dread that was building. It had been a great few days with Dean, but it was all a fairytale, wasn’t it? Maybe he just told you what you wanted to hear. He didn’t even hint that he had said ‘I love you’ the night before, he just continued like nothing had happened. What would happen when the magic was over, would he still want you?

“It’s been great,” you agreed. Your voice sounded like it belonged to someone else. You didn’t want to keep him from telling Sam the truth, but would it ruin his chances of taking over the family business?

“No matter what happens tonight, I’m not sorry, not for any of it.” His hand went you your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin.

“Me either,” you whispered. “Speaking of after… how are we doing this? Are we leaving tomorrow? I really need to go see my mom…” you reached to grab your phone, remembering the notifications from the night before.

“You want me to meet your mom?” He seemed a little skeptical.

“I have literally met your whole family,” you said to him, holding down the power button on your phone to turn it on. “I think you can handle one person.”

“What did you tell her about where you’ve been this week?” He was curious.

“Told her my friend needed help dealing with family… and that I would come over when we were done,” you smiled. Your phone kept buzzing with each notification that finally got through. You wanted to look but Dean had your attention.

“I’m not usually the kind of guy that meets the parents,” he hemmed.

“Yes you are. You just haven’t been with the right woman. Don’t worry. She’s easy to get along with. Now my dad…he would have scared the shit out of you,” you snickered.

Dean smiled, his eyes bright, teeth showing through his grin, “Okay. I bet I could have gotten on his good side in five minutes.”

“Well, you would have been the first,” you laughed.

“Then what?” He asked.

Not understanding what he meant, “Then what, what?”

“After your mom’s house, then what?”

There was still so much you had to do and you hadn’t thought much about any of it for days. You’d been working so long to get to a point where you could leave Chuck behind, but then what, indeed. How would Dean fit into your life after this week? How would you fit into his? Before you could formulate any kind of answer, a knock at the door startled you both out of your building panic.

“Dean?” Sam was at the door again. “You ready?”

“Be right out,” he called to the door. “We can talk about it later,” he leaned in to give you a quick kiss. “Sam and I need to do the walk through with Dad but I am going to talk to Sam tonight.”

He’d made up his mind and his expression said that there was no changing it.

“Okay,” you nodded, “I’ll come find you later.”

Dean kissed you again and got up from the bed. He opened the door to the bedroom to reveal Sam and Jess standing outside in the hall. Jamming his feet into the still tied dress shoes, he grabbed the tux jacket and left with Sam.

Once the boys were gone, Jess came in carrying a cosmetics case and hooked her thumb in the direction they’d left.

“Dean looks awful serious,” she noticed. “What’s that about?”

“I guess he needs to talk to Sam about something,” you covered.

Jess narrowed her eyes from just a second, then put the case on the bed by you. “More than what they aired out in the nail salon?”

You only shrugged.

“Okay, lady,” she said, “let’s see the gown.”

Standing up, you pulled the stay on the robe and slipped the garment from your shoulders. Jess let out a long whistle in approval.

“Wow. You are definitely going to turn heads with that dress. Now I wish I’d picked a green one, too,” she said. “Smart move, John will approve.”

“That was the idea when I picked it, but now I don’t give a shit,” you said, spinning for her.

Jess studied your face. Seeing your mix of anxiety, anger, and worry, she asked, “You really do care for Dean, don’t you?”

“What?” You hadn’t expected her to say that and it took a moment for your brain to catch up. “Yes? Why?”

Jess was rooting around to find the perfect shades of green and was holding them up to compare to your dress. When she found ones that looked close to what she needed, she set them aside. She pulled out several pieces of makeup and you had no idea how she would use it all.

“It’s obvious to anyone around you two for more than five minutes that you two are the real deal,” she said. “Close your eyes.”

You closed your eyes, aware that she was beginning to lead you down a path you weren’t sure you wanted to travel yet.

“If you ask me, that’s pretty damn good after a whirlwind romance…” Jess applied eyeshadow.

“It’s been quite a week,” you agreed, unsure where she was going.

“I checked on you,” she said, applying more makeup, “like you kept telling us to do… I also know you and Dean may have known each other for a year, but you haven’t been dating,” she continued, moving to another color palate. “I mean, I get it…kinda. Dean finds out about me and Sam getting engaged and shopping around the business… I warned Sam, but he’s as stubborn as a moose. John has his hangups and Dean was looking to get his position solidified. But what I don’t get…”she blended the colors on your eyelids, “is why you said ‘yes’.”

Your heart sank. Jess had practically figured out the whole arrangement on her own. Jess paused long enough for you to open your eyes and answer her.

“Yes to what?” You stalled.

“Oh, there’s more than just playing his fiancé?” She raised an eyebrow at you. “We can unpack that later.”

She waited for you to answer.

“How long have you known? Are you going to tell John?”

Jess waved her hand in dismissal, “I doubt he would believe me if I did tell him. I knew the day I met you. A simple search on my phone, just like you said. I’m just curious as to why. You don’t need whatever it is Dean offered you, so… what gives?”

You couldn’t answer, not because you didn’t want to tell her, you didn’t know. Impala Guy had caught your eye for his car, but you’d definitely noticed his good looks, too. Maybe it was because he wasn’t like your other customers. Maybe it was the way he ate the donut when he asked you. Jess was right, you didn’t need Dean’s collateral…

“I don’t know,” you answered. “I just felt like, if I didn’t, I would miss out on someone great. I thought about what you said, about maybe I was waiting for him. I don’t know, maybe I was.”

“Hmm,” Jess grabbed the eyeliner, “your secret is safe with me. It’s not really for me to tell anyone, even Sam. What else did you say ‘yes’ to?”

Jess had you close your eyes again so she could apply the eyeliner.

“Nothing I’m willing to admit to right now,” you said.

“Dirty girl,” she teased.

“You aren’t making me look like a painted whore, are you?” You asked.

She snorted a laugh, “No. Promise. I’m going to pat myself on the back, actually. You’re gonna drop jaws.”

“Is it bad that I want this to be a big ‘fuck you’ to everyone?”

“To who? ….specifically.” She was curious.

“I want everyone who ever doubted Dean, or screwed him over, to see that he doesn’t need any of them and that…”

“He has you,” Jess concluded. “It’s not bad at all. Winchesters, in spite of everything, always back up their family.”

You took a deep breath and let it out slowly. You would not cry and ruin your makeup. Jess put on your mascara and lip stain next. You were on such a wild, rollercoaster week, it was starting to wear on your nerves.

“Alright, done.” Jess popped the lip stain stick back in the bottle with finality.

Forgetting you were even holding your phone, it buzzed once, letting you know you had missed messages. You got up from the bed in an anxious daze, curious to see what you looked like now that Jess had worked her magic. The full length mirror in Dean’s bathroom was the only mirror to afford you a full view of yourself. You’d already put on the earrings Dean had bought for you and slipped into your heels. Never one to look at yourself objectively, it wasn’t difficult this time, you looked like a completely different person. You pulled up the camera on your phone and snapped a quick picture.

The only thing that snapped you out of your shock was the opening strains of “Born to be Wild” coming from your phone. Bringing the device’s screen back into your view, the display showed the face of the person calling you.

“Weird ringer for Dean,” Jess said from the door. “You good?”

“Um, yeah, thank you so much, you did an amazing job,” you said.

“I’m gonna head out,” she said and waved so you could answer the phone.

When she was opening the door to leave the bedroom, you accepted the call.

“What do you want, Jack?”

“Merry Christmas to you, too,” he sounded annoyed.

“Merry Christmas,” you groaned. “How can I help you, Jack?” You gave him your best customer service voice.

“Been tryin’ ta get a hold of ye for a few days,” he said.

“And I told you I was going to be away for a week, or more, with probable shitty cell service,” you shot back. This call just proved Jack never listened. “I told you that when I asked you to watch Harry.”

You could hear him sigh heavily on the other end. It had always been a battle with Jack to get him to hear you.

“I know ye did,” he continued. “Something came up.”

The words made your skin prickle and your heart began thumping. When he’d called you up in the past and uttered the same phrase, something bad had happened. If it wasn’t him, it was someone in the club and one time, one of them hadn’t come back…

“What happened? Are you okay? Someone in the club?”

Though you and Jack had parted ways romantically, you still cared about him and his brothers in the club. They’d been like a second family for you in the last five years. You loved Jack, just not the way he had wanted. Club life was rough and every time the phone rang, he would either leave you, or it was bad news, never knowing if he was going to come back.

“Ach, no. Everything’s fine, luv. Me ma sold some o’ her baubles ‘n got me a ticket for a visit,” he explained, immediately feeling bad for worrying her.

“Oh, that’s good. It’s been a while, huh?” You said.

She was a nice woman. You’d been around for a few of the video phone calls Jack had made for special occasions. She still sent you cards for your birthday and Christmas even though both you and Jack had moved on. She even said, in front of Jack, that she still wished the two of you would get back together, or “at least give me a wee gran’baby.”

“Please give her my love, she was always nice to me,” you added.

“Aye, I will. Anyway, since ye’ve been incognito…”

You rolled your eyes.

“…I called yer mum.” He let that statement hang in the air a moment. Jack was not her favorite person ever, but she tolerated him. “Asked her if she would take the laddie.”

“And how did that go over?”

“The usual lecture on being a responsible adult not realizing that’s what I was bein’.” Jack sighed, he’d tried to be civil with your mom, but it could be difficult. “So, he’s with your mum. Thought ye could stop by on the way back ta get him.”

“Good idea,” you said, “That’s exactly what we were going to do.” You softened toward Jack. He was a good man, but he would never leave the club. You would always have been second, no matter how much you may have loved each other. To make things worse, you knew just enough about what happened in the club to scare the hell out of you and wonder what may visit you when he was away. That fear is where Harry came into play. Harry was the 65 pound gray pitbull Jack had gotten for you for protection and company while he wasn’t home, which was often. Jack was never going to settle down, not even for you.

“There’s something else,” his voice had turned serious.

“Oh god, what?”

“Some arsehole came nosing around, askin’ about ya. Got real personal. The lads filled him full a bullshit, sent him on his way. What’re ya gettin’ into, luv? You running from something? What kind of friend gets a private DICK sent after ya?”

Jesus fucking Christ, it’s been an eventful week.

“What did he ask and what did you boys tell him?” You knew it had to be John behind this latest bit of fuckery.

“Ah… well… the boys may have implied that… you were a club bunny. Not in so many words though,” his voice was low. “And that Harry is our son.”

If it had been under any other circumstances, other than Dean’s disgusting dad, you might have laughed. Of course, the boys thought they were covering for you, not knowing the circumstances of why the PI was there.

“For fucks sake, Jack,” you groaned.

“What’s going on, lass?” He asked again.

It took a little while to get through the high points of your visit to Kansas. You didn’t go too deep into detail, but Jack was no dummy. He could hear all of the things you weren’t saying. When you finished telling the story, the other end of the connection was oddly silent, his breath the only thing that told you he was still there.

“Jack?”

“Do ye love him?” He was blunt. “The way ye couldn’t love me?”

“Jack, you know I love you, but yes. He’s the one, Jack,” not for the first time, you felt the twist in your gut with the feeling of failing Jack. The two of you had talked about it many times, and he’d had plenty of ‘bunnies’ to keep him company, but you’d both agreed that it wouldn’t have worked for you two.

“Ach,” he scoffed, “now I’m grossed out. You know who to call if ye need backup.”

“I’ve dealt with some scary and fucked up people in my life. John fucking Winchester is nothing to get riled up about.”

With nothing left to say, Jack said, “Love ya, kid.”

“Love you, too, Ol’ Man,” you smiled. “Remember to tell your mum I said ‘hi’.”

“Alright, ye nag. Bye.”

“Bye.”

As you sat on the bed, you dropped the hand holding the phone to your lap and watched as Jack’s name and face disappeared from the screen.

There was a time when seeing his name gave you butterflies, but there were far more times that it scared the hell out of you. The club never walked on the right side of the law and his calls became something you dreaded. Loving Jack had never been the problem. Living with Jack meant living with the club and everything that came with it. While it had taught you to toughen up, it had also made you a nervous wreck and distrusting. When you finally broke it off with Jack and asked him to move out, you knew you hurt him, but he also understood.

“I’m sorry I can’t give ye the life you deserve,” he’d said, both of you crying by then.

“I know you did the best you could,” you said back.

Jack would always be family, but he’d never stolen your heart the way Dean had. A smile spread across your face as you thought about him and wondered if he would light up when he saw you.

Flipping through the contacts on your phone, you stopped on your mother’s icon and pressed the call button. It took a couple of rings for her to answer and you could hear Harry when she did finally answer.

“Harry! Shut up! Hello?”

“Hi mom,” you said.

“Your dog is here,” she said.

“I know. I just talked to Jack. You okay with him until I get there tomorrow?”

“Oh, he’s fine,” she said then changed her tone to talk to him, “He’s such a goood booyyy. Jack… you know how I feel about him…”

Your mother had made it quite clear over the years. She tolerated him, and sometimes she even liked him, but she would never forgive him.

“Yeah. I do. Is it okay if Dean and I come up in the morning tomorrow?”

“Ohh… I was thinking it was a girlfriend that needed your help this week. Who is this guy, someone special?”

You hated talking about your love life with your mother, but she still had hope for grandchildren, too.

“Yeah, he is,” you admitted. “His family is crazy, but he’s not. He seems like the only level-headed one in the group. Hot as hell, strong work ethic, super smart…” you felt like you were gushing.

“I’m intrigued,” she said. “You going out tonight?”

“Yeah, big party. I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow.”

“Okay,” she said, “no drinking and driving. Love you. Harry, say bye.”

You could actually hear a muffled ‘woof’ from Harry. Your mom pretended to be put out by his presence, but it was all a show. She spoiled him something awful and he loved being at her house because of it.

“No, ma’am, promise,” you said. “They actually have a car service just for this occasion. Love you, Mom. See you tomorrow.”

Before you left the room, you made sure to grab your clutch and stuffed your phone inside it and went downstairs to find Jess and get to the party.

Dean knew (Y|N) wanted to make an entrance with flair, but he was getting bored. He was barely at the party and he already waited to bail, but he couldn’t do it until she got there so they could both go. People were milling about, mingling, making small-talk before dinner was served. Being early in the night, the lights were only slightly dimmed, the overhead lights would eventually go all the way dark and the twinkle lights would set the mood for the evening. It was quite a sight to see a warehouse lit like the evening sky.

Thankfully, Bobby had seen him loitering near the door and brought over a drink for him and chatted with him to pass the time. He had a lot to say about the dealerships and how well they were doing. Bobby still had executive control over them, despite John’s official ownership. John was the silent owner, and Bobby liked it that way.

“Look, son, there ain’t no easy way to say it,” Bobby had something to say that he’d been holding onto for a while and Dean would probably be leaving in the morning. “I ain’t getting any younger and I’d like to enjoy my golden years while I still can. Maybe take Ellen on a trip.”

Dean patiently waited for Bobby to get to the point.

“No matter what happens tonight with your daddy and the business, I want someone to take over running the dealerships for me. Thought maybe you could do that for me, help out an old man. (Y|N) could do whatever she does in the service department. Designer, ain’t she?”

Bobby had surprised him. Dean didn’t know what he’d been getting at, but he hadn’t expected Bobby to say that. His thoughts spun out in so many different directions, he couldn’t follow one long enough to give Bobby an answer.

“That’s a lot to spring on ya, boy,” the older man admitted, patting Dean’s shoulder. “You think on it. Talk to your lady and get back to me. No rush, but sooner than later. Before next Gala.”

Dean was still stunned when he noticed Bobby do something odd. The older man stood up straighter and pulled down on the hem of his jacket. He wasn’t looking at Dean anymore. Bobby’s gaze was over his shoulder and toward the entrance. Following his line of sight, Dean saw, not what, but who had caught his attention.

He almost didn’t recognize her. If not for the dress and the earrings he’d bought her, he might not have. He was mesmerized by the way she sparkled. It wasn’t until she was right in front of him that he realized she sparkled because she was moving…

On the drive to the warehouse, you’d had time to get your thoughts under control and think of what exactly it was you were going to say to Dean about what had happened with Jack. You just hoped you’d be able to tell Dean before John opened his dumb mouth first.

Once at the warehouse, you carefully got out of the Excursion and made your way inside. There was a canopy over a red carpet with holly garland and lights strung the full length of the canopy and woven through the underside of the canopy. It was beautiful.

You’d made your way to the gala floor and could see Dean talking to Bobby, but you stayed back far enough that the light wouldn’t land on you. Jess had made you look like a movie star and you were looking for your red carpet entrance. Jess was with you only briefly once you arrived at the gala. She’d spotted Sam and excused herself. When you saw your moment, you took it.

The lights had dimmed just enough to make your dress sparkle. Bobby saw you first, and you smiled at the reaction you got from him, but it was Dean that made your stomach flutter. Slowly, he turned to see you. His expression went from confusion to recognition. Then you saw it, the look you’d been waiting forever to see…

You put your hand on his chest and the tux fabric twitched under your hand as you brought him out of his daze.

“See? Now that’s why I wanted to make an entrance,” you smiled up at him. “What do you think?”

“You better marry her quick, son, before I steal her away,” Bobby winked at you and excused himself.

“You took my breath away,” Dean whispered. “You’re like green fireworks.”

“Way right answer,” you said, getting on your tiptoes to kiss him. “What are we supposed to do now?”

He cleared his throat and cocked up his eyebrow, “We go to the table, get together, have a few laughs.”

His Bruce Willis impression needed a little work.

“We need a code word so we don’t go full Nakatomi on this place,” you suggested.

“We?”

“I told you, I have your back,” you reminded. Dean still held you close. “Besides, your dad has a mouth on him and I may need to slap a bitch.”

“I want to be there if you do,” he sounded excited at the idea. “Sounds kinda hot.”

“So what do you think about the code word? Not yippie ki yay… Nakatomi?” You said and watched a defeated look cross Dean’s face, he wanted “yippie”.

“Since you shot that down, Gruber?”

“Argyle?”

“The limo driver?”

You nodded.

“That could work, yeah. Fits into conversation, too. ‘Did you see the argyle socks on that guy?’”

“Yeah, this is okay, we can do this,” he agreed.

You put your arm through his and let him lead you through the crowd of people, stopping now and then to mingle. Though he’d been away, he still seemed to know almost everyone and their families. He didn’t only talk about business with them, he knew them, asked about their kids, their parents. More than one person asked if he would come back, even if he didn’t get CEO.

Dean only gave noncommittal answers and kept you moving until you reached the table that had been reserved for the family. Bobby was there with Ellen. Sam and Jess followed right behind you, and John was already seated middle center.

“I’m not sitting by him,” you said to Dean. You could feel John’s eyes on you. It had been odd before, now it was unsettling.

Dean patted your hand in the crook of his elbow.

“I’ll be to the left of Dad, Bobby on his right, and you next to me. Then Sam next to you,” he explained. “Argyle, remember?”

“Right,” you straightened your body, steeling yourself. “No one is going to ruin this night.” You remembered your phone call from earlier in the night and knew you should tell Dean sooner rather than later, but people were filing in, settling down for dinner. There would be too many ears listening to risk it. “I need to talk to you in private later, okay?”

“Everything okay?” He said to your ear as he pushed in your chair to sit down.

“Yes, just a recurring blast from my past,” you said quietly.

“Good evening everyone!” John’s voice boomed without the need of a microphone.

Sam quickly picked up the microphone and flicked it on to hand to John.

“Welcome to the Family Business annual Christmas Gala!” John was already laying it on thick. “Thank you, all of you, for your hard work. Your family’s understanding has, once again, made this year, our best year yet.” He paused for applause. “As you know, I appreciate what you do to keep the Family Business rolling and this year, that means a 25c raise, on top of cost of living, for our hourly folks and a half day of comp time for our salaried people.” He paused again. “That is my thanks to you all for a job well done. Now, I know there are rumors going around that I’m planning on retiring. I would like to address those rumors. Yes, I do plan on retiring. When may that happen?…I just don’t know. Maybe one of my boys will be up here next year.” John looked at both of his sons, then back to the room of people waiting on him to elaborate. “Truth is, I haven’t decided on my successor. I’ll let you all know as soon as I do. Until then…let’s get this gala going! Bring on the food!”

You put your hand on Dean’s leg. He was doing an okay job of keeping his face from showing what he was thinking. His leg felt like a spring that was wound too tight, though, like the tension might get released at any moment and blast out of control. I took him a second or two to turn his attention to you. You didn’t have to say anything to him, he just seemed to know what was your question.

In response, he put his hand over yours on his leg and squeezed. “I’m good. Listen, I need to talk to you later, need to run something by you.”

“Okay,” you nodded, “Soon as we can steal away. I have something to tell you, too.”

Fortunately, the disappointment from John was soon forgotten as the party got going in full swing. Before you knew it, dinner was done, the dishes cleared, and the lights were dimmed, twinkle lights in full twinkle mode. It truly was a beautiful sight. The light cast a warm glow over the space, giving the room a cozy feel despite the size.

You and Dean got away from the table long enough for the dishes to be cleared away and get drinks from the bar at the back of the room. You’d also noticed a photo booth that you made a point to get him in later. You made your way back to your place at the dinner table, chairs turned toward one another, your knees between Dean’s. His thumb was stroking the soft flesh on the inside of your knee. He was trying to convince you to run away with him, right then and there. He told you of all the places he wanted to visit and you hoped he would, with you on his arm. He told you his dreams for the future.

“We could go to Bali,” you suggested.

“I don’t do planes,” he said.

“But it’s French Polynesia… and hot… naked cabana time… skimpy bathing suits…” you painted the picture for him. “If it’s private enough, skinny dipping, naked all the time. Or if we did a resort, we would have people waiting on us, massages, no worries, at all, ever.”

“Well,” his fingertips were traveling up your inner thigh, “That naked in the cabana thing sounds good…”

He leaned in the rest of the way, his lips telling you that he would go with you wherever you wanted, you just had to say the word. When he pulled away, he had a dreamy look on his face and, once again, you were so glad you’d said yes.

“Bobby pulled me aside tonight. Said if the ol’ man doesn’t give it to me, he wants me to take over for him at the dealership,” he watched you for some kind of reaction. “He said you’d be welcome, too. Thought maybe you’d run the service department, do customs.”

You’d only just met Bobby and were touched by his offer. If there were one person in Dean’s family whose trust you wanted, it was Bobby’s. It was nice to be offered a sweet setup like that, it was pretty amazing, and you could still do your custom work.

“What did you say?”

He shrugged, “Nothing. Bobby said I should run it by you.”

“That’s a generous offer for either of us. Is it a package deal?”

Dean shook his head, “I think Bobby just wants to make sure it’s in good hands before he retires. And I think he likes you and wants you to know you’re included if you want to be. Plus, I think he just really wants me back down here.”

“Or maybe he just knows what’s right and wants you to get a spot here,” you guessed.

“He said he wants to take Ellen places while he still can.”

“That’s kinda sweet,” you said.

“He’s not the only one that’s sweet,” he licked his lips and leaned in to kiss you again.

“Let’s go find that photo booth,” you suggested. It had been far too long since you’d kissed him properly. “Too many eyes are out here.”

It only took a moment for Dean to catch on to what you wanted to do. He pushed back from his chair and helped you up from yours. The gala had shifted back into a more jovial mood and the festivities were back in full swing. When you got to the booth, there wasn’t anyone waiting and the couple in there were just getting their photos out of the finished slot. As soon as they had passed by, Dean pulled you inside the booth and onto his lap. You pulled the curtain closed and gave Dean’s lips your full attention.

The hand that was holding you on his lap squeezed at your hip, his free hand on your ribs just under your breast. His handsome face was barely an inch from yours. Tipping your head slightly, you closed the small distance between you. Your hand went to his face, holding him to you. Your lips parted for him, his kiss more urgent. Your tongue answered his equally and passionately. Your hand raked through his hair. Dean was making sounds that told you he was almost ready to leave the party.

Panting slightly from the make out, you asked, “So how do these things work? I’ve never been in one before.”

“This is what you’re supposed to do in here, sweetheart,” his eyes twinkled.

You smiled at him and kissed him again. Pulling away, your fingers touched the sore spot on his cheek and wished things had been different for him Dean deserved so much better than he got.

“I love you, too, by the way,” you said, your voice low and full of the emotion you felt for him.

“I didn’t know you heard me,” he said.

“Did you mean to say it?”

He nodded. “I know it’s been the worst week ever, but I haven’t regretted a bit of it. And it’s ridiculous to believe that a couple can fall in love in a week, but…”

“Here we are,” you said.

“Will…” he cleared his throat, “Will you marry me? For real, I mean.”

The whole week flashed before your eyes… then it flashed forward through your whole life with Dean.

“When we get all of our ducks in a row and things are going the way we want, I’ll marry you,” you said. “We don’t have to rush. Plus, we’ll have time to talk on the way to my mom’s house.”

Dean pressed buttons on the touch screen to get the photo-booth working. You’d mentioned going to see your mom while on the long drive to Kansas, but Dean probably hadn’t thought much about it since then.

“Your mom is gonna love me,” he said.

“I’m sure she will. It was my dad that you would have had to worry about. Could have killed you with a glance,” you teased.

You barely noticed the flashing coming from the camera.

Dean got a small smirk on his face, “No one is going to scare me away, Mrs. Winchester.”

You leaned in to kiss him again.

A few moments later, the photos were done, but you weren’t done kissing Dean.

“Everything okay in there?”

“Yep, just… talking.”

“Could you talk out here? Got some folks waiting,” it was the booth operator.

You and Dean grabbed your photos quickly and made your way over to the bar. You were far too sober for it being so late in the evening. While you waited for your drinks, you looked at the photos and laughed. Dean’s hair was a mess, but remarkably, the booth had caught the moment when Dean said ‘Mrs. Winchester’ and the looks on your faces. The happiness there almost made you tear up.

“I’ve got something I need to tell you, Dean,” you said, not wanting to ruin the moment, but you needed to tell him.

Dean grabbed your drink and gave you his elbow to take you back to your table.

“I’m listening,” he said.

He brought you back to the table where you’d had dinner.

“Before getting here tonight, I got a call from my ex, Jack,” you trailed off, seeing if he would react.

“One of the biker guys?” he simply asked.

You nodded. “He said there was some “private dick” nosing around the club members asking about me.”

“And what did he tell the P.I.?” he was cautious.

“He and the club members fed him a line of bullshit that I was a club bunny and not attached to anyone in the club. Not the greatest of stories, but they protect the club, former ol’ ladies don’t get much protection. They thought they were helping, honestly.”

“Okay, so… what about this, Jack, guy? Is he going to be a problem? Does he still love you?”

It made your heart hurt to think about it. You didn’t want to hurt Dean, not today, but the truth was what you’d agreed upon and that is what he would get.

“Jack was my guy for almost a year. His club is the one that hangs around in the area. They aren’t even in Bemidji… He lived with me for a while, but even then, I hardly ever saw him. Jack will always be special to me, and yes, I did love him, but not the way people in love should love one another. I couldn’t ever see me growing old with him,” because he might not grow old in his club, you thought but didn’t say. “I loved him, but it wasn’t a lasting love. My mom tolerated him, sometimes she liked him. I was going to go to her house anyway, but Jack was calling to let me know that Harry is there because he needed to leave town.”

“Does he still live with you?”

“Harry does. Jack lives wherever Jack lands for a night, which hasn’t been my place in 4 years,” you explained.

“Who the hell is Harry,” he asked a little more gruff than he intended.

“Harry is the pitbull that Jack got me for company and protection when he was away, which was a lot,” you clarified. “Harry is huge now, but he’s such a sweet boy. Scares the hell out of Chuck. Harry hates Chuck, but loves everyone else…”

 “Is Jack going to be a problem? Is he going to come looking to start trouble?”

That was a question you wouldn’t have been able to answer just a couple years ago.

“No. We’ve talked about it a lot and we both agreed that our lifestyles didn’t match up. He’ll always be in my life. He’s family. He moved on and so did I. Though, I’m still welcome with the club. They’re protective of me and Harry.”

He put his hand on yours and brought your hand to his lips.

“Okay,” he sighed, “we can deal with that.”

He said ‘we’, you thought.

“Hey, um… Dean?” Sam had appeared.

“Dude, your timing. We need to talk about that,” Dean said, not bothering to hide his irritation.

“I thought maybe we could go to the floor and try some of the new product, have a talk,” he said, clearing his throat.

Sam’s glance flashed to you and knew immediately that it was a private conversation not for your ears. Dean said he’d wanted to tell Sam the truth. You supposed it was the perfect opportunity for them and let them off the hook.

“You boys go do your thing. I’ll see what’s going on up here, maybe see what Ellen or Jess are doing,” you said.

“Well, that just figures,” were the first words out of Sam’s mouth after Dean had told him the whole truth. “Leave it to you to try to tip the scales in your favor.”

“Thanks a lot, Sam,” Dean fumed. “How else am I going to get what I’ve earned? Of course, you wouldn’t know what that’s like to have to fight for every inch. You’re the golden boy. Things have always just fallen into your lap.”

They were in their dad’s office after taking a walk through the warehouse floor. The whisky was good, but Dean already had ideas for improvement. He got up from the edge of the desk where he had been sitting, looking for his dad’s stash of the good stuff.

“Things don’t just fall in my lap, Dean. No one took the bar for me. I worked hard for that,” Sam defended. Though, Sam was aware of how lucky he’d been in his life, he hadn’t considered that it may be because of sacrifices from Dean. “Do you really want the business this much or are you trying to prove something to Dad?”

Dean knew it was both. He wanted to run the brewery how he saw fit. He wanted to show everyone that he could do it and be successful. It wasn’t until a few days ago that he was sure that he could do it. When he brought (Y|N) with him, it was like he finally knew that he could and that he wanted it with her.

“Maybe… probably,” he admitted. “It doesn’t change the fact that I need every advantage I can get.”

“Why did you rope (Y|N) into this? Are you going your separate ways after tonight?” Sam continued.

The thought of losing (Y|N) was an unexpected gut punch, no matter what had happened upstairs. But then, she said she would marry him… and a smile spread across his face. She was going to be his wife. He’d given up a lot in his life and had gotten on just fine, but he was not going to lose her. They would overcome anything together.

“I don’t know, Sam. I would see her at the garage… she looks great in coveralls… hair up like Rosie the Riveter… dirt and grease… and she ran the whole thing. She knows more about cars than even Bobby. She’s confident, smart, talented…” he trailed off a moment thinking about how cute she was bossing her employees around, but he could also see it wasn’t her favorite thing to do, either. “She stood up for me, Sam, didn’t back down. Never had a woman do that for me, usually it was the other way around… Then, watching her here, getting to know her, probably better than I’ve known anyone…” Dean found the bottle of the good stuff and poured himself a heavy drink. “Asking her to come with me might be the smartest thing I’ve ever done. I can’t imagine letting her go.”

Dean poured some of the whiskey into Sam’s glass, too. They both let his words hang for a few moments while they drank.

“So, how long have you been in love with her?” Sam asked quietly.

Dean took a thoughtful pause, “All my life.”

He downed what was left of the whiskey in his glass. His dad’s office hadn’t changed much over the years and neither had the location of the secret booze stash. Dean poured himself a single this time and looked at the pictures on the bookshelves. He was in two of them. One was the last obligatory family picture and the other was of him and Benny when the new building was finished.

“You’d be in more if you were around more,” Sam mused.

“That door swings both ways, Sam,” Dean sipped the whiskey without turning back. “Who do you think the old man is going to hand it off to?”

Sam considered the options before answering, “I really don’t know. There’s a good argument for all of us. You. Me. Adam. Benny. Who knows… maybe he won’t even do it this year.”

“Well now, wouldn’t that be something,” Dean pondered.

Dean had barely been gone with Sam before Ellen came over and took the chair Dean had emptied. She looked beautiful in her gown. Her hair was up and it showed off the beautiful jewelry she was wearing, much in the same way you were doing.

“Hey, (Y|N),” she said and looked out at the people on the dance floor for a moment. Then she turned in her seat, leaning on the table so she could look at you better.

“Dean tell you ‘bout Bobby’s offer?” she asked.

You nodded.

“Bobby likes you,” she went on, “and that’s no small feat. The old man and I have gotten real good at reading people. We know you’re not telling us everything, but we trust you… hell, we all have our secrets. Not that you need our blessing, but if it means anything to you, me ‘n Bobby couldn’t have picked someone better for our boy.” She patted your hand, “You think on that offer and let us know when you two decide.”

“I will,” you said. Ellen smiled and stood to leave.

“Ellen?” you waited for her to look back at you. “Thank you. You and Bobby made me feel welcome and I promise I’ll do my best to take care of him.”

“That’s all we want, honey,” she gave you a slight nod with a smile and went to find her husband.

There was an elegance about the woman that was overshadowed by the years of hard work that had shown itself on her face. She worked hard, took zero shit, and it had paid off. You could only hope to aspire to such levels of grace and badassery.

When you finished your drink, you were feeling warm and relaxed. You got up from the table and took your glass back to the bar. The bartender noticed you right away and moved to take your order.

“What can I get you?” he asked.

Normally, you were used to customers hitting on you and it took you by surprise when the cute bartender’s eyes raked over you, licking his bottom lip. Until that moment, you weren’t sure what you were going to order.

“Ice water,” you answered.

“Yes ma’am,” he grinned, eyes twinkling.

You barely had gotten the glass in your hand before an imposing, dark presence made itself known to you.

“I trust you’re enjoying the evening,” John’s voice was close to your ear.

The timbre of his voice and breath, reeking of bourbon, on your bare neck made your skin crawl. Quickly, you stepped away from him and barely acknowledged him.

“I was,” you kept walking.

“Seems to me, you have no trouble finding a good time,” he followed you.

You weren’t in the mood for a fight, but it seemed that was all John wanted from you. If he didn’t shut his mouth, that was exactly what he was going to get.

“Yes. I make a point to enjoy myself, no matter what situation I’m in,” you answered, still not stopping for him.

“Mmm, that’s what I’ve heard,” he said.

Your pace came to an abrupt halt.

“What do you think you know about me?” you asked, sick of his games. “As far as I know, Dean is the only person we both know. What could you have possibly ‘heard’ about me that didn’t come from me or him?”

You were so grateful Jack had called you…

“I did just as you said. Soon as Dean brought you here, I had a PI do some checking up on you. Your ‘cousin’ Chuck doesn’t like you much,” he said.

“Chuck is an idiot and I don’t like him much, either. What else do you think you have?”

“You never said anything about the biker club.”

“And? Once again, my personal life before Dean is none of your damn business,” you were doing nothing to keep your voice down.

“Those guys at the club had a lot to say.”

“That right?”

John moved into an uncomfortably close proximity, but you didn’t budge. He was not going to intimidate you, not today.

“Yeah, I knew there was something about you. They said all of them gave you a ride. Figured, if everyone else had a ride…” his fingertips touched your arm near your shoulder and slid down your arm holding the glass.

Equally angered and repelled by his unwanted, lustful, advances, you felt an unimaginable rage swell inside you. The indignation made you feel like you were, at least, twice your size. You drew back your free hand, balled it into a fist and threw your whole body into the punch that landed squarely on his cheek bone.

The jolt of it send pain through your hand and wrist traveling up to your elbow. You stumbled with John as he pulled your arm when he fell. He let go of you to brace his fall, crumpling in a heap, his head bouncing on the wood floor.

“I warned you,” you stood over John. Then you dumped what was left of your ice water on his face. The small thumps the ice made were pleasing to your ears. The bastard was long overdue.

You knew people were staring and that you had made a huge scene. You really didn’t give a shit. You slammed your glass down on the nearest table and started in the direction you’d seen Dean and Sam leave. You barely took two steps before the crowd began to part and you saw Dean.

“Are you okay? What happened? What did he do?” Dean was furious.

“I’m fine,” you assured him.

“Did he hurt you?”

“No. He just has a mouth on him. Needed to shut him up,” you responded shakily.

“Alright,” Dean said with finality, “I’m calling Argyle on this. You ready?”

He’d already taken your hand and was pulling you closer to the door. You nodded, though he was barely even waiting for your response. The altercation with John left you rattled, your emotions a mess. You wanted to cry, only because you were so angry. Never had anyone treated you so badly out of false assumptions created in their own mind. You didn’t deserve any of what John had done to you and had to remind yourself that John Winchester was not worth your energy.

Nobody tried to stop you and Dean on your way out. If they hadn’t seen what happened, the look on Dean’s face was enough to make a demon cower in fear. A modicum of relief made it into your shoulders as you rounded the corner to leave the gala party room.

“You alright?” Dean asked again, stopping with you just before heading to the elevator.

All he did was look at you and you felt the first sobs start to well up. Dean gathered you close and you lost all control you’d been desperately holding onto. The tears flowed as you sobbed into his shoulder. His arms held you tight while you wept, his hand gently rubbing your shoulders.

Dean as livid. He wanted to go kick some ass but (Y|N) needed him more. He held her as she sobbed, feeling worse about all of the stress she was letting out. He didn’t want the Family Business if it meant having to be around his dad. He damn sure didn’t want to force (Y|N) to deal with his shit. He stroked the soft, warm skin of her shoulders as she began to calm down.

“I’m sorry,” you said pulling out his pocket square. “I didn’t think I had all of that bottled up.”

“No need to apologize,” he rubbed your arms. “You didn’t bring any of it on yourself. I should be apologizing to you. Not to rub salt in the wound…” he indicated his own eyes, “looks like you went ten rounds with Tyson.”

You were already feeling a little better.

“Pfft. Tyson doesn’t have my rage. KO’d your dad in one,” you wiped your eyes with his hanky and spotted the bathroom. “I just match you now. I’ll be back.”

He smirked. “I’ll be right here,” he answered.

Only a few moments passed when he heard the elevator door open. Not wanting to talk to anyone, he turned and leaned on the wall. The group of people surrounded him and he wouldn’t be able to escape.

“Sam and I took your daddy down to his office,” Benny broke the silence.

“All 4 of you needed to tell me that?” Dean saw Laura and Jess with Sam and Benny.

“Someone had to,” Sam grumbled.

Jess noticed (Y|N) wasn’t around and went into the nearby bathroom to check on her.

“Hold on now, don’t need a dustup between you two. Only told you cuz he came to, threw a fit and ordered me ‘n stringbean to come get you back to the office,” Benny explained.

“What the hell for?”

Benny shrugged. He never did understand how John’s mind worked. Benny just took his orders and followed them.

“Who knows, but he sure got a bug up his butt about something.”

Dean looked around the open space to see if (Y|N) had come back out yet.

“I think Jess went in with her. She knows what’s going on and can find us when they’re ready,” Sam offered.

Dean still went to the bathroom door and pushed it open a crack to tell (Y|N) he was going to his dad’s office. He heard, “OK, we’ll be down in a sec,” from her before he left. His family members weren’t high on the trustworthy scale. He got in the elevator with them and a sense of unease filled him as the doors closed.

Your face was a ruined mess. Most of the top of your eyes were still in decent shape, but the eyeliner and mascara were a total loss. With only the bathroom soap and scratchy paper towels to work with, you did your best to clean up the ruins. The cold water felt good on your cheeks. You were calmer now and hoped to save some of Jess’ hard work. The door made a slight squeaking sound as it opened and closed. You looked into the reflection to see who had come in.

“It’s useless,” Jess said, making eye contact with you in the mirror. “No matter what you do, you still look amazing.”

“I’m a mess,” you scoffed.

She put her small purse on the counter and pulled out a compact.

“Stop it,” she said, “it’s not that bad.”

She cleaned up the remnants of eyeliner and mascara still on your cheeks and added powder to your face while she spoke.

“I wish I could have seen it,” she said. “I just came around the corner and he was already down.”

“He deserved it,” you stated.

Jess nodded, “Of that, I have no doubt.”

“Is everyone mad?” you felt like a kid about to be punished for fighting.

“No,” Jess shook her head, “on the contrary. Everyone knows John is a nightmare. He burns bridges so quickly. People only stay because he’s not very present…visible with employees and he throws these parties that are always a good time and the bonuses. John is the only one pissed.”

Anxiety crept back in. What if you ruined everything for Dean. If he lost out on his dream because of you, you would never forgive yourself.

“Uh-uh. Don’t do that. I see those gears spinning. Dean is proud of you.”

The bathroom door creaked again.

“(Y|N)? I’m going down to Dad’s office with Sam and Benny,” Dean’s voice was muffled by the door jamb.

You looked to Jess. She nodded and pointed from you to her mouthing the words, “Us, too.”

“OK! We’ll be down in a sec,” you called. You gave Jess a questioning look.

“John wants Dean, you, Sam, me, Benny, and Laura in his office. He didn’t say why, but I think he might have come to a decision about the business,” Jess explained.

“Oh, shit.”

“Yeah. And no, I don’t know for sure. John is… unpredictable.”

You’d learned as much, though, the only thing you could count on was for him to be inappropriate.

“Let’s go see what he has to say, huh?” Jess clicked her compact shut and tucked it back into her purse.

“Maybe you should have kept your mouth shut and your hands to yourself for a damned change and maybe she wouldna decked you!”

You could hear Dean’s voice booming through the closed door.

“You should learn to keep her under control,” John roared back.

“She did nothing wrong! Nothing! If she hadn’t dropped you, I would have,” Dean yelled.

John scoffed, “Need a woman to fight for you?”

You opened the door with Jess in time to see Benny and Sam restrain Dean and John. Dean was struggling to get past Benny and Sam was pushing John back. Laura was backed into the opposite corner, carefully watching but staying out of the way.

“Whoa, buddy, whoa,” Benny sounded like he was calming a wild horse.

When the men had calmed down, you, Jess and Laura sat on a leather couch that faced John’s desk. Two large leather wingback chairs were between you and John’s desk. Sam took one of the chairs, then Benny took the other when Dean refused. Dean paced a moment then poured himself a drink.

You sat on the end of the couch closest to the door. Jack taught you to never get caught in a situation you couldn’t get out of. Rule number one, always have an easy exit. You watched Dean struggle to keep his cool while you were waiting for John to tell you all why he called you in. Dean was drinking a lot that night, not that you blamed him. The booze just wasn’t helping him relax. When he looked your direction, you caught his eye and glanced at the couch arm.

He had a scowl on his face, but he accepted the suggestion and sat on the oversized couch arm. Dean leaned back, his elbow resting on the back of the couch for support. Dean was going to take a sip from his tumbler, but you reached up to take it from him and had a sip for yourself. Nudging his leg with the back of your hand, he reached for the glass, his fingertips brushing over your hand as he took the glass.

John surveyed his office looking like the smug bastard he is. An odd look crossed his features only further making you wonder what the hell this was all about and what crazy thoughts were running through his head.

“This turned out to be quite the night, didn’t it?” John mused.

It gave you endless pleasure to see him rub his cheek and pop, what you assumed were, pain killers. You’d thrown everything you had into that punch.

“And who’s fault is that?” Dean grumbled.

You patted his leg absently. The office was full to capacity, but you were sure Dean could launch himself over the desk in a blink.

“I’ll just cut to the chase. I’m not retiring,” John dropped the bomb.

Everyone sat in stunned silence.

“Not yet, anyway,” he added.

“If you were going to keep it, why go through all of this? Were you even thinking about it?” Sam was incredulous.

“Hell, it was me that started the rumor,” John seemed pleased. “It was my way of seeing how you and Dean would react, Benny, too. I gotta say you all surprised me. Benny here continued on like nothing happened. Sam, you went out shopping around for possible buyers. Dean… you got yourself a lady. And might I say,” he looked at you, “nice right, darlin’.” He still had an amused look on his face. “Still not sure about you, but, I’m kind of impressed.” John took a moment to let his words sink in. “I’m not quite ready to let the Family Business go just yet. Maybe in a year or two… Dean, you’re my top choice.”

The vibe in the room had changed from anticipation, to shock, to anger, to disbelief. No one, not even Sam, would begrudge Dean the business. It was the way John had divulged his intentions.

Sam sat in silent fury wondering where he had gone wrong. He had been so careful… Jess stared ahead unseeing. Her plans for Sam had been dashed so quickly. Perhaps a new path would still get them to the governor’s mansion. Benny didn’t know what he expected from John. He suspected the rumors were untrue, but how could he have known that was John’s way of checking his interest in running the Family Business? He’d been working so hard… Laura sat watching her husband, wondering if she’d made a mistake all those years ago, and now it looked like Dean would get it all. What would happen to Benny when Dean found out what they’d done?

Dean’s knee-jerk reaction was to tell his dad off and to start his own business. There was no telling when he would actually hand it over. The Family Business had been his goal his whole life. If he said ‘no’ now, it might never be his. Did he want success on the coattails of his father, or was it more important to have success under his own name? His brain spun with the possibilities.

Making his decision, Dean said, “If you’re offering, I’m willing to talk. No more bullshit. If we do this, we start now. I’m not interested in being jerked around anymore.”

John sat cooly in his chair. His elbows on the arms, his hands clasped in front of his mouth. Things were not going quite as he’d expected. Dean bringing (Y|N) with him had thrown in a variable he couldn’t plan for. He’d tried to get her to leave and he’d ended up with a killer headache and a sore tooth. Now Dean was calling his bluff. He would just have to advance his plan.

After a quick search in his desk drawer, he found the business card he was looking for and closed the drawer. Leaning forward, the business card between his fingers, he held the card out for Dean.

“Give him a call at the beginning of the year and we’ll get on with it,” john instructed.

Dean left his spot by you on the couch to step between the two wingback chairs and take the card from John.

“Arthur Charles?” Dean read aloud and Sam stiffened in his chair. “Your lawyer is still alive? Jesus, he was old when I was a kid.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam didn’t care for Art and was still a point of contention between him and his dad, “he sure is.”

Dean looked from his father to his brother and back again, his own plan solidifying.

“Well. I think we’re done here,” John declared. “There’s still a lot of party to be had and I am far too sober for this shindig.” When no one moved, still stuck in the shock of the moment, “Get the hell out of my office.”

Dean stepped back and turned to you on the couch. He offered you his hands to pull you up from the couch. Tucking the card into his inside jacket pocket, he quickly led you out of the office like if he lingered too long, the dream would fade.

He walked with a purpose toward the main entrance. The space was quiet, only hints of the music from the floor above reached your ears. You noticed there were cars parked a short distance away, ready to pick up anyone ready to leave.

When he stopped, he didn’t turn. You both stood there with your backs to the door of John’s office. Dean’s eyes were wide and he almost looked scared.

“Did that really just happen?!” he asked.

You nodded, “Yeah,” feeling his trepidation.

“Like, really for real? Not some weird alternate universe mumbo jumbo?”

“Yeah!” it shocked you too.

“Holy shit.”

“Dean, you have everything you wanted,” you realized.

Dean looked down at your hand in his.

“I’m all set,” he said softly, his mind finally coming to rest. “You ready to go?”

You nodded. Dean slipped off his jacket and put it over your shoulders. The warmth of him was trapped in the jacket, warming you in the chilly entry. Putting his arm around you, he pushed open the first set of doors. Outside, the big SUVs were lined up, ready to take people home. One pulled up to the awning and Dean opened the door for you. The heat was blasing in the Excursion, but Dean was all you needed. You sat in the center, tucked into his side. Remembering the business card, you reached inside the tux jacket. Feeling the slick paper, you ended up pulling out the photos from the photo booth.

“You look so…”

“Happy? Loved?”

“I am. So happy. So…”

You looked up at him. The week had literally beat him up, but he still looked at you the way he did in the pictures. You put your hand on his jaw. His lips came to yours, filling you with the love he felt but always found so difficult to say.

They were nearly back to the house and Dean pulled out his phone and pulled up Sam’s name.

“Have a plan. Call me later,” he text.

[twistednuns]

February 2020

I managed to use my iPad as a second monitor for my computer. So tech savvy. Yay me!

Joking about developing a sex-based cardio programme with Manu. Powerfucking! Might help against aggression as well.

A late night phone call with Tom. Not saying much.

Making a huge pot of my grandmother’s signature veggie stew.

More Bon Appétit test kitchen videos. Chris recreating tacos. Claire making Ben&Jerry’s. Priya making her mum’s Indian curries.

Writing a letter to Lena. Drawing upside down bats (which makes them look like they’re having a wicked dance-off). Just the act of writing. I thoroughly enjoy looking at my handwriting.

Using the Salted Coconut handscrub by Lush. Especially now that I wash my hands so often when we’re working with clay at school. I feel like the peeling triggers some pressure points on my palms.

That Saturday productivity high. Cooking and preparing heaps of stuff, cleaning the windows, doing laundry.

Painting my nails like an expressionist artist.

Some portrait studies. Accidentally drawing Sirius Black.

Being really motivated to improve my Spanish. Working with Lorena, the Duolingo app and even starting my own grammar/vocabulary book.

This ultra quirky ASMR video. Also: watching videos with Erin an her boyfriend Chris. It’s amazing how well they work together. How you can almost feel their connection, how similar they are.

Carrot cake oats.

Seeing the The Darkness live again, this time with Margit. Justin’s outfit and personality, singing along, especially to Time of my Life, the band’s traditional first song after the show.

Meeting Chris. Having a Bramblette cocktail at Pusser’s. I like that place. Feels very old-timey with a rowing boat right under the ceiling. We made out in front of a tiger slide in a toy store window on our way to the next bar.

Peeling fresh carrots.

Pickling onions and making kimchi. My fermentation game is strong these days!

Looking through Dominik’s sketchbook. I loved the tree whose bark resembled a mole burrow with its underground tunnel system.

The flu. Yes, really. Fewer pupils at school. Quiet times. I’m actually surprisingly healthy. I’d guess my probiotics must play a role here… Who knows.

More sourdough experiments. Writing about it (DELICACY - a haiku. Oven-warm sourdough / salted butter, alpine cheese / and a strawberry).

Finding a really interesting list of SanFran hippie era book recommendations at the end of Robin Sloan’s Ajax Penumbra: 1969. In the mood to read Maya Angelou, Tom Wolfe, Jack Kerouac, Richard Brautigan.

Even more beautiful books: I really enjoyed Die weiße Stadt by Karolina Ramqvist, a feminist author from Sweden, and the graphic novel version of To Kill a Mockingbird. But two books that literally (well, figuratively obviously) blew my mind were Circe by Madeline Miller (mythology, loneliness, animals and plants, magic and monsters, some desperate kind of feminism, independence and strength) and Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo (magical realms, university setting, psychological depth, unexpected twists and turns). I haven’t read anything comparable in a very long time and I desperately hope that there’s more to come from these authors.

A beach collecting all the world’s single socks in The Magicians. Oh and of course seeing them break the moon. What a sight. The show is super confusing, obnoxious and absolutely fabulous at the same time. Best example: the Freaky Friday szene in which Margo and Eliot switch bodies. I love how the actors took on each other’s speech patterns and behaviour.

A new addition to my colour vocabular: celadon (a greyish green; there is a type of ceramics you’ll only see in this colour which is not surprising since the shade provides such an interesting contrast to the the earthy, rusty orange of burnt clay.)

Manu telling me that he had rarely seen people with more joy in their eyes than me (“Ich habe schon Freude in deinen Augen gesehen! So ein Leuchten kann man nicht simulieren.”) after complaining about being bored and lifeless. / Making curry with or, well, for him the other night. Drinking Liqueur 43 with cinnamon and milk. Playing the Jackbox party games for which you can use your phone as a controller.

Finding myself in a well-known sitation from the past. Lying in Frank’s bed in the early morning hours, not that tired yet, when he starts talking about his life and his depression. In English, obviously, because that’s our emotional filter. Relating, since I feel quite similar. Coming up with a suggestion for a reciprocal support system. Let’s see what we can do for each other.

Looking at travel photographs. The sea, the cenotes. Longing to go back to Mexico or Australia. Diving. Taking it all in.

Dreaming of my grandmother talking about her biggest regrets in life. Weirdly she was in a little bundle under a coffee table, much like Voldemort in the last Harry Potter movie.

My weird, weird brain. How both pleasure and pain enhance my sense of smell and increase my brain activity, almost causing hallucinations and fixations on ideas. Like geometric shapes in gloomy off-colours and a beige silicon-like surface the other night. All I could think of was a benchscraper.

Blue eyeliner.

Brainstorming three-letter-words with Frank since I’m thinking of getting personalised Nike Blazers. Sad cat. Yes but. Dat ass. Why tho.

Flying squirrels. Watching them wobble through the air. How they look like cute exhibitionist when they’re extending their limbs and thus stretching their, well, let’s just call it wings.

The fact that red cabbage has an intricate pattern like brain convolutions when you cut it open.

Talking to Sonja for the first time in over two years. What a strange person. Interesting, too. At least in homeopathic doses.

Ripe strawberries and nectarines. Oh my god. I love fruit.

Meeting Eve at Pub Quiz. She identifies as female, loves swing dance, used to be an animator and I love her style. Also, I realised that really like Betty. And Dennis wasn’t mean to me for once. I love my nerd friends <3 And I learned that Starbucks was named after the first mate in Moby Dick! Also, coincidentally they asked a question about the city where To Kill a Mockingbird takes place (Maycombe, Alabama) after I had read it the week before.

Inviting Lorena to the Botanical Gardens. I always feel very happy and very much myself when I’m there. I sometimes wish I was a gardener. Lorena was late so I walked along the Spring Path outside and it might have been the first time I’ve seen a brussels sprouts plant. Inside I learned lots of Spanish words and marveled at the incredible butterflies. The huge yellow one right behind the entrance was my favourite. Its delicate feelers were fascinating.

Washing my hands at the Keg’s bathroom. Looking into the mirror. Suddenly thinking of the perfect karaoke song… Rescue Me by Bell Book and Candle! I kept singing it for days on repeat. My neighbour must hate me (nothing new here) especially since my voice is too low for the chorus.

It isn’t hard to see how such attachment patterns can undermine mental health. Both anxious and avoidant coping have been linked to a heightened risk of anxiety, depression, loneliness, eating and conduct disorders, alcohol dependence, substance abuse and hostility. The way to treat these problems, say attachment theorists, is in and through a new relationship. On this view, the good therapist becomes a temporary attachment figure, assuming the functions of a nurturing mother, repairing lost trust, restoring security, and instilling two of the key skills engendered by a normal childhood: the regulation of emotions and a healthy intimacy. // An interesting article on attachment styles and why theraphy works; it makes me want to learn more about attachment theory. This School of Life video is a nice addition as well.

That dream. About a book shop modeled after my picture of Penumbra’s 24-hour bookstore. There was an old man in a very narrow but high-ceilinged room full of books. There was no light source except for moonlight or some street lights. There were loads of stairs, very steep, leading to the back of the house. Upstairs the man would set out cat food and on the rooftop there was an old sailing boat. One day the man decided to open the door to the roof and let visitors see the ship, much like a museum; perhaps to attract customers. However, in the next night a cat-shaped ghost appeared who reminded me quite a lot of Kot Behemoth character in Mikhail Bulgakov’s The Master and Margarita. The ghost was not amused about the old man’s decision and took away his key, a big golden one adorned with a red ribbon.

Toasted sesame makes pretty much every dish so much better.

Watching High Fidelity with gorgeous Zoe Kravitz (I adore her effortless style and her outfits), getting in the mood for making a playlist and listening to more music in general. There are all these great songs out there I forgot about.

Remembering the xkcd storm chaser comics.

Making a wicked good batch of Pho for Tom.

Spending a nice evening with Alex at Shamrock. Singing along to American Boy by Estelle. Confirming the hypothesis that the nerdy, quiet ones usually have a freak streak. That moment in the morning. Eye contact and kegel exercises.

Karaoke with Margit and Betty. Meeting Manu’s doppelganger. Same type, looks, voice. Eerie.

Making a BA Gourmet Makes meme for Steffen after he had passed his law examps. Strangely Gaby kinda looked like him after I was done with it.

Saturday morning in bed. Reading comics and graphic novels. Fresh bedclothes, surrounded by books. Since it was February 29 I thought about leap years and asked a few friends what their inner seven-year-old would have done that day (based on the thought experiment that your birthday was on February 29 and you’d age in 4-year-steps which would divide your age by 4 obviously).      

I came up with: visiting grandma / eating Cini-Minis / falling asleep with my face buried in a cat / beating my neighbour Anna at Memory / drawing while listening to a Bibi Blocksberg cassette.

Alex said he’d have been outside all day, building a snow igloo. Not noticing his mum telling him to come to dinner. If the weather had been bad he would have played with his dinosaur collection. His inner 7-year-old was a hopeless dreamer who got agitated whenever his parents had a fight. Who came home late from school every day because he forgot about time when he was talking to his friend next to a hedge with thorns that looked like tiny airplanes.

Lena said she would have been outside all day long, playing in the mud with the neighbours’ kids. Of course.

[dysphoric-affect]

The Unrecognized Potential Of Voice Recognition In Games

          Imagine, for a moment, you are playing an RPG - perhaps the next Elder Scrolls, for example - and you go into a weapons shop. Inside, you approach the shopkeeper. The usual prompt to press “A” or “X” to interact pops up on the screen...but there’s another way. Your headset is on, microphone at the ready, and instead you say “Hello.” The game recognizes you are targeting that NPC and recognizes the word you said as an expression of greeting. “Hey there. Welcome to the Broken Shield, home of the finest weapons in the city. What can I interest you in?” You are interested in getting a new weapon, but, as is often the case with characters in RPG’s, there is a specific focus to your character’s playstyle: in this case, let’s say they only use axes. “Show me your axes,” you speak into the mic. The game recognizes you are wanting to buy from saying “show me,” then recognizes “axes” as a specific search interest, such that you are taken to a screen showing the shops available wares to buy, but pre-filtered to only show you the axes they have in stock, eliminating the visual clutter of searching through every other item they have. You spot an “Axe of the Tempest” which does some solid lightning damage with every hit. You have enough coin and decide to buy it, so you tell the shopkeeper “I’ll take the Axe of the Tempest.” “Take” is recognized as meaning you want to purchase something, and “Axe of the Tempest” clarifies the object of interest. With the game understanding this, the screen clears to a confirmation screen with just the Axe of the Tempest displayed and to the sound of jingling coin as you pay the shopkeeper replies, “Alright, here you are. Spill some worthy blood with it, eh?”

          Intrigued yet?

          Voice recognition to me has the greatest untapped potential of all the existing forms of immersion tech, yet confusingly has been largely disregarded in favor of motion controls and virtual reality. If you find my supporting immersion tech like this seemingly contradictory after my last article, allow me to clarify here: I do support the development of immersion tech and their implementation, I only caution developers and gamers against unrealistic expectations of what they can accomplish and in the case of developers specifically, ask that they show restraint in spite of whatever hype surrounds a technology and implement it intelligently.

          As long as expectations are grounded and immersion tech is integrated intelligently where it can truly enhance the experience, however, I strongly support development in immersion tech. There is one addendum I should add to that, though, which is I also feel too much stock has been put into motion controls and virtual reality at the expense of ignoring voice recognition, which has more to recommend it as an area for focus when it comes to immersion tech in gaming. That is the point I’m here to make today.

          There are three different costs imposed on gamers when it comes to any form of immersion tech which create barriers to such forms of immersion being embraced. The first is the “acquisition cost.” This is the literal cost to buy whatever hardware it is necessary to have in order to be able to use the tech in the first place. The second is the “effort cost.” This is the sacrifice that is imposed on the gamer in the process of using the tech, from the energy needed to use it, to the limitations on what they can do while using it. The last cost is the “training cost.” This is the time that has to be spent using the tech before using it becomes second nature, at which point the first two costs become more justified in the minds of players. In each of these, voice recognition is in a superior position to motion controls and VR.

          The acquisition cost for voice recognition is the cost of a gaming headset, or a more basic set of headphones that has a built in mic. While there are more expensive gaming headsets one can get, that is just an option among many more cost-effective ones. This is a sharp contrast to motion controls and VR - the latter especially - where the hardware cost is in the hundreds and for a singular option. Notably, headsets and headphones are typically hardware agnostic as well, so a set acquired could be used across all the various gaming consoles, giving them a more diverse utility that makes their cost of acquisition a better deal. Further, while headsets may be used for voice recognition, this isn’t the only or even the primary function they stand to be useful for, as they are an indispensable tool for voice communication between gaming friends and for coordination while engaged in online multiplayer gaming. This connects directly to the last and most significant point: cost is relative, because many gamers already possess the hardware anyway. That means for a gamer considering playing a game using voice recognition, the perceived cost will often be that it is free, as they are simply repurposing something they already owned and used for something else in a different way; this is a stark contrast to the other forms of immersion tech for which you most certainly won’t have the hardware you need laying around, making for an unavoidable perceived cost to engage with them.

          While more open to debate than the other two types of cost, I believe the effort cost is most agreeable with voice recognition over the other forms of immersion tech. With motion controls, the demand for physical action from players to engage with it can be a turn-off for those who are looking to game after an exhaustive day and looking to physically relax; this isn’t purely speculative, as we’ve seen precisely that be born out in the past with the Wii and PlayStation Move and Kinect. Virtual reality presents a different kind of problem but a problem nonetheless: the sense of constraint. When engaged in VR, because of its fundamental nature you are visually locked in and unable to do anything else unless you disengage from the experience entirely. This is what makes it so dynamic, to be sure, though it does also present a level of necessary disconnection from everything else around them that players don’t always want to have.

          Voice recognition imposes no such constraint and the physical effort is merely using your voice, which isn’t perceived as demanding in the first place to the extent the other forms are. Some of this is the inherent amount of effort required in speaking, but part of the equation is familiarity those playing games have with the process involved. Most are used to using headsets in their online play already, as many are also now familiar with using smart devices that utilize voice recognition as well, whether as simple as using the speech recognition option of the Google app on their phone or something more comprehensive, such as an Amazon Echo; there is some cross-over between the two things already even, as Xbox has some capability for voice control built in with the Cortana digital assistant and more recently the addition of support for Amazon’s Alexa. Collectively, these facts mean there is a sense of ease of approachability to using this tech that creates a solid foundation of support to be able to build integration into gameplay mechanics off of and be confident they will be embraced, if designed properly.

          All that remains to consider is the training cost as it applies to voice recognition and we hardly need to consider it long, because as alluded to in examining both the acquisition and effort costs, the majority of gamers have both already adopted the hardware necessary and are well versed in using it, which even in the first instance is never a very difficult thing to learn to make use of. With that being the case, there is no training cost at all for most, but in what few cases there are those interested in using such tech in gaming who don’t already make use of a headset, the training cost that they stand to face is so minimal as to be an irrelevant factor in speculation on the adoption rate of games which were to make use of voice recognition.

          What I’ve presented should make it evident, if it wasn’t self-evident enough already, that the costs of voice recognition as an immersion tech are low where they can be said to exist at all, and therefore that there is strong reason to consider focusing on integrating this kind of immersion tech into our gaming experiences more as far as consideration for how likely it would be to be supported is concerned.

          What I’ve addressed thus far only addresses the question of whether the tech can be justifiably supported for development. The question remains, I grant, “What can we do with it in gaming?” I’ve given an example at the beginning, but let’s take a deeper look at the potential now.

          As I see it, there are three different levels of sophistication voice recognition in gaming stands to achieve. The first would be what I call the scripted level. At this tier, player interaction would consist of reciting predetermined words, phrases and statements. For example, if multiple dialogue options were available, you could read off the one you wished to say and the game would register it; the option would still remain to press a button to select a highlighted option traditionally, though. This would further the feeling of roleplaying as the player character, with players being free to “act out” the delivery of the lines as they read them, though that wouldn’t be necessary and wouldn’t affect the nature of responses given by the NPC’s spoken to. Options like mentioned in the example at the start would be possible at this level, though in more simplified form than that. For instance, saying “filter” while shopping would trigger the filter option among the items, then saying a category to filter for among the limited pool of potential options in the game would narrow it down further still. Though this level could greatly increase a sense of immersion and ease of access to game features, it is also conceptually the most limited.

          Next, there would be the dynamic level. At this level, there would be a large pool of keywords in the game’s voice recognition library and it would be able to pick these specific words out of any larger statements the player made to understand their intent and respond appropriately. Words of greeting would be known to be used to start dialogue, names of specific characters, places and items would be understood to initiate quest-associated dialogue and in bartering scenarios, words expressing intent to buy or sell would engage the appropriate transaction type and further descriptions would quickly engage transacting on the appropriate specific items. They key concept to understand with this level is that players would be free to improvise their own lines of dialogue. This level is the kind referenced in the beginning example.

          In the case of quest-associated dialogue, which isn’t discussed in that example, let’s suppose you are given a quest by an NPC to kill a troll outside the city for a sum of gold and are told you can meet with their friend, an elf named Tolund, before doing so and he’ll aid you in the task. At this point there are many questions you could ask. The critical aspect here is that the game is only going to focus on key words and phrases, not everything you say, so you’re free to express yourself how you like in terms of the specific wording. So if you are wanting an exact location of Tolund or the troll, it will look for “where” being in your question, then look for one of those two subjects being said. If you say “where and “troll” in whatever statement you make, it will understand the player is wanting an exact location of the troll, and the NPC will respond appropriately in conversation as well as give you a quest marker on your map; similar results will occur if you named Tolund. If you want to know what the reward will be exactly, saying “how much” along with another word like ”gold” or “worth” will confer your intention to the game, and the NPC will respond by giving you an exact answer.

          Let’s say you then go and meet Tolund. He’ll otherwise treat you as a regular passerby, but if you mention the quest-giver’s specific name, the game will recognize you are wanting to trigger the quest-associated behavior from him and he’ll greet you accordingly, which will trigger new dialogue options with him and will trigger his following behavior in turn when you conclude the conversation with him. The possibilities beyond this are many, but would all use the same basic key terms framework to understand player intent. This is where the potential of the tech becomes much more fully realized and very immersive, as it takes away constraints on dialogue performance and allows players to speak more naturally.

          There would remain one limitation in the dynamic system, however: word choice would be recognized, but tone would not. This is where the emotive level would be different. At this level, not only would key terms be understood to trigger responses organically, how you spoke to someone would matter. This would coincide undoubtedly with a greater pool of words that would be recognized, including derogatory terms and names or terms of endearment. The simplest example of where this would make a difference would be in expression of sarcasm. Anything said sarcastically would be misunderstood if interpreted only based on the words in the statement. For example, if you told a guard “Thanks for everything you do” and only the words were understood, he’d have a positive reaction every time. In a dynamic system, it’s the only kind of response he would know how to have. In an emotive system, though, the intonation of the statement would be interpreted as well. If spoken sincerely, there you’d get the aforementioned positive reaction, maybe a “Thanks, hero” if your deeds were well known. If the game understood you meant the statement sarcastically, however, the guard would react negatively, maybe saying something like “The people may love you, but that doesn’t mean I do. I’ve got my eye on you.”

          Volume of tone is something else that would be interpreted and accounted for in this highest level system. If you were moving through a market and called “out of the way” normally, the first person in front of you might respond, but if you shouted it urgently or aggressively a whole swatch of people in front of you would turn to take notice and then part way for you. In a scenario dealing with an enemy encampment of some kind, you could lie in wait past the perimeter tree-line and call out to get a patrol’s curiosity up and lead him away to your position where you could take him out secretly. Or, if out wandering and not looking to have any surprises attack you without their approach being noticed, you could call out and instigate anything in the area to come attack. The possibilities for more realistic NPC interactions and new organic sound-based gameplay elements are only as limited as developers’ imaginations. Combined with the existing and improved upon elements of a dynamic system, these elements stand to collectively deepen immersion in a truly profound way well worth the effort to develop and support such systems.

          It should be noted, for the record, that though I only mention RPG’s as the backdrop for imagining the execution of these concepts, they certainly aren’t only applicable there; I mention that genre just because that’s where the greatest variety and depth achievable with such systems is possible in my estimation. There is great potential elsewhere, however. Imagine playing a future God of War, for those familiar with the latest entry in that series, and being able to issue a command to your son yourself, capped with your own grisly enunciation of “...BOY” and seeing that command be followed, furthering the sense of being Kratos. Any game with a strong component of interaction, whether with an ally in combat gameplay or NPC’s in “society” gameplay could benefit from its inclusion. It’s also not difficult to see the potential for stealth games with this, particularly where the volume of voice element is concerned. That alone could provide entirely new ways of approaching encounters that wouldn’t exist otherwise, or even in cases where they could, making them feel far more engaging and intense.

          With everything I’ve mentioned considered, I think the merits are readily apparent to why voice recognition is a form of immersion tech that deserves further development. What I’ve mentioned as examples above scarcely scratch the surface of what is surely possible if explored deeper. I say it’s time we start digging.

[jose-chaveziv]

Doc mode 2 – Reflexive Documentary

For inspiration on this documentary, I tried to capture a modern take on Man with a Movie Camera (1929). To do so I took inspiration from the scenes of the woman blinking and the shutters opening and closing. It was a form of connecting human to inorganic, and later the eye to a camera lens. I took that idea and went with it, by cutting with myself being replaced by the camera, then only seeing what occurs through my phone screen or camera lens, I felt that it showed a replacement of our own eyes with the camera technology we have today. The control we’re allowed over our vision and the way it can enhance our experiences. It was great to film at an unexpectedly rainy time, it allowed a choice to leave the natural noise as a backdrop throughout so as to keep the contrast of human vs. technology as the viewpoint becomes solely technological.

Directly pertaining to the reflexive, I attempted to make the camera feel like the viewer, forcing the audience into the technology perspective of filming, and how it is near impossible to tell what device filmed certain scenes unless there are direct markers setting the scene. The documentarian can be found anywhere now, with access to a cellular device one can create beautiful documentaries on their own. The camera has become a universal tool and it can allow us to reflect on what makes a film shot on a film camera different from filming on a smaller and more “inferior” device? Is it solely a social preference? This short piece hopefully allows space to discuss with the audience that it is just as well done through a phone as it is done on a camera to film. With the correct preparation, a documentarian can piece together whatever masterpiece they can dream of.

This also could bring to question another question. If we all can be such documentarians, what makes some great? Could a great documentarian take a cellphone and make a documentary that will still impact us the same as if they used a film camera? What techniques make a documentary “good” and can those be used with any device with a camera on it? By having the documentarian (myself) only there to stand as a marker for where a camera would be placed, it allows the audience to recognize that humans still drive the power of the documentary. We have to be the ones who choose the correct angle and placement, because our eyes are still the purest “cameras” we possess. And using a camera is in many instances simply a means of recording what we do naturally on a daily basis so we may have the opportunity to share it with our fellow creators and with our audiences.

Reflexive documentary brings the filmmaker into the film so as to bring the audience into conversation with them and themselves about the filming process. The questions that come from filming in this mode are uncontrolled and can be completely different from what I even make a statement about. But, this mode of film is always a great way for documentarians to give out a conversation starter about filmmaking itself and await the audience response.

[and-all-the-rest-of-them]

A Sunset Talk || Rosy/Bastian

The sun was setting, lighting the sky up in an array of colors that Rosy knew she would be trying to replicate in her sketchbook later. But for now, she was enjoying the last rays of sunshine on her skin. Her fear of the sun was slowly fading away, but she still only felt truly comfortable when the sun was setting; the memory of the fresh burns still hung in the back of her mind. 

“There you are.” The gruff voice broke her from her thoughts, a look of confusion crossing her face as she detected the tinge of annoyance that had coated the words. 

Seeing Bastian coming through the back porch door, she turned back to the sunset as the werewolf joined her at the railing. “What’s got you all hot an’ bothered?” She had learned quickly that Bastian wouldn’t be the easiest to befriend in the house, but she had been assured by plenty that it would eventually happen. Rosy just had no clue when that would be.

“You’d be irritated if everyone was using you as an errand boy,” he muttered, pulling out a cigarette and lighting up. “Lenny said he’s almost done with all your things. No one will be able to hack anything you’ve got by the time he’s done.”

“Is it really all that important that no one can get into my phone? What would they get, pictures of my half-finished pieces?” she asked, her gaze fixed on the sunset. She found it a little easier to talk to Bastian like this, focused on something else besides his usual gruff and impatient expression he normally wore.

“It is to him. Can’t blame him, either. After everything that happened. Just say thanks and mean it when he gives you your stuff back, alright? It’s not that hard.” The moon could be seen now, contrasting sharply with the sun’s setting colors and showing how close it was to it’s full stage. It was no wonder Bastian was feeling and acting more aggressive lately; his wolf was closer to the surface and acting out it’s alpha tendencies.

Rosy bit back the question she had been wanting to ask, but never had the nerve. What had happened to Lenny exactly? So many of the people she had met so far seemed to dance around it, alluding to something but never saying anything outright. But she had never felt right about asking, despite how blunt she could normally be. It just seemed too fresh and personal and Lenny had been more than friendly and accommodating to her. It felt rude to rustle up whatever skeletons he had in his closet. At least for now.

“I didn’t mean to sound rude ‘bout it. I’m just not used to people makin’ that much of a fuss over me. I appreciate the help. From all of you. It’s mighty kind of everyone to pitch in like they have. I think I’m just gettin’ a little...overwhelmed with all of this,” she said, looking to Bastian and then towards the house behind them as if to indicate their living situation. 

Bastian snorted out a laugh, rolling his eyes a bit as he took a drag from his cigarette. Blowing out the smoke, he was quiet for a moment before sighing out a growl suddenly. “Listen, Nicholas is amazing. He’s generous, loving, nurturing, all of that crap you wouldn’t think a demon could be. He’s the best Master I’ve had so far. But, he can forget that not everyone’s used to living a life like his. Most of us are used to it. A full house is just a pack to me, you know? So if you’re feeling spooked by this, you’ve got to tell him. He’ll make it better for you because he likes looking after people.”

She looked from the house and then back to Bastian, silent for a time as she looked back to the setting sun. It was getting dark now, but Rosy could still see clearly thanks to her enhanced senses. “Now don’t I feel like a drama queen. I didn’t mean to sound like I don’t appreciate all he’s doin’ for me. An’ I don’t wanna cause a fuss. I don’t think I’ll need to talk with him ‘bout it. It’s just somethin’ I’m getting used to. I mean, it’s not every day a girl lives in a house with three vampires and two werewolves.”

“You? A drama queen? You’ve met Connie, right? And Nicholas? Shit, even Sinclair is more of a drama queen.” He laughed as he spoke, smoke spilling from between his lips as he continued taking leisurely drags from his cigarette. “I think being here will be good for you. Once you get used to this place, you’ll be able to handle the rest of Castor just fine,” he said with a lazy shrug, but he looked to her with a raised brow. “But wait, hold on. Did you say three vampires? There’s only two here.”

She laughed too, swiping loose strands from her face as she felt herself relaxing a little more around Bastian. When Nicholas had been telling her about his and Bastian’s unique relationship, he had warned her to not feel offended by the werewolf’s hard shell. But it seemed like maybe things were starting to change between them now. “Yeah, three. You an’ Cyrus are werewolves, right? I mean, you kind of look scruffy like a dog. An’ Cyrus looks like those fellas ya can see on T.V. shows about werewolves,” she started to explain, but she was cut off when Bastian started laughing again. 

“First, fuck you very much,” he said with a smirk, shaking his head as he flipped her off mockingly. “I’m no dog. I’m a wolf. And my mate doesn’t mind my scruffiness. And second, Cyrus isn’t a were-creature. He’s a fire elemental. Graham’s the other were-wolf. So, you’re wrong about all of that. I think you really need to work on your sense of smell because it really sucks.”

“Hey now, I can’t help it! It’s the human in me usin’ pop culture as a guide,” she said, detecting the playfulness in his actions and not taking any serious offense towards it. “So, maybe I do need to work on it. But at least I know now. An’ I’ll know in the future what Fire Elementals smell like,” she said with a shake of her head, her gaze trailing back to the sky even though the sun had completely set. The moon and stars were the only things to see in the dark sky now, but Rosy still enjoyed the sight. 

“So...’bout earlier...I thought you were the errand boy...?” she asked, trying to keep more of the playfulness that seemed to be starting between them. Rosy was desperate for more interactions like these since they reminded her of the friends she had back in San Fransisco, a time when things had made more sense to her.

“Ha ha. I’m Nicholas’ Slave, yeah. Not the house’s errand boy. I’ll only be that if Nicholas tells me to. But he hasn’t. So for now, I help you guys out when I feel like.” He finished off his cigarette and stubbed it out in the ash tray near them, letting the last of the smoke trail from his nose as he turned back to Rosy. “I’ll see you inside. Don’t forget to swing by Lenny’s room before you go to be. And remember to thank him. Brat,” he said with a smirk, disappearing back into the house and leaving Rosy out on the back porch alone again. 

She grinned to herself as the porch door slid closed behind Bastian, standing outside for a moment longer as she watched the night sky. So maybe her and Bastian weren’t sharing any heart to hearts but this was the friendliest he had been to her since she had moved in. And she was feeling better about living with Nicholas and the other men important in his life.

[whateveradjunct]

When I was heading to France last week, I considered taking my Nikon d750 with me, because I thought, not unreasonably, that France might be a photogenic country and that I might want to get some high quality photos of the place. I decided against it for a number of reasons, but one of the major reasons was that a couple of weeks ago I got myself a Pixel 3 phone, which reviewers have suggested may have the best camera on a phone out there. I’d previously had a Pixel 2, the former “best cell phone camera out there,” so I was curious as to how the Pixel 3 would improve on the camera.

So I left the Nikon at home and used only the Pixel 3 to take shots while I was in France. I ended up taking something around 500 pictures while I was in country (many of the best of which I have collected in this Flickr photo album), and can now tell you what I think about the experience. Here are my notes, in no particular order, with occasional art. Please remember that these thoughts are from someone who loves taking pictures but is not a professional photographer, so I’m not going to go into the weeds with technical issues and jargon. I’m mostly noting the experience of just trying to take pictures.

1. Overall I was very happy with the quality of the photos and the intelligence of the camera — the latter perhaps being a weird thing to say, but the fact is what separates the Pixel line of cell phones as cameras is not the hardware (which is mostly high-end but standard issue for a cell phone), but the processing Google applies to the photo data once the photo is taken. The camera makes choices, basically, about how it interprets the data you give it once you snap the photos.

And those choices are generally very good! There wasn’t a situation where I thought the Pixel 3 wasn’t capable of handling itself. As with nearly all cell phone cameras (and, honestly, nearly every camera, period), the Pixel 3 works best when it has a lot of good, bright, natural light, but it did very well inside and also very well in visually challenging environments with a lot of contrast between bright and dark (like, for example, the interior of the Notre Dame cathedral). Not every picture I took was perfect or even good, but the reason for that had as much to do (and perhaps even more so) with operator error as it did with the camera itself. Which is to say I can’t blame the bad pictures on the cell phone camera; a lot of it was me.

2. What do the photos look like coming out of the camera? Here are five, which I’ve not done any post-processing to (i.e., no tweaking with the various photo editors I have). These pictures were taken with the settings the Pixel 3 has right out of the box, including the HDR+ processing turned on, without zoom, and recording to jpg. Right-click on the pictures to get a larger versions of them (choose the “open image in new tab” option), and see the various details.

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Right out of the camera, the Pixel 3 a pretty good job of things. The colors are correct and not overly saturated, and the HDR+ mode does a good job of bringing out details in shadows without making them look overly processed. Note in particular the picture of the musicians in the conference room; the light’s behind them and their faces are shadowed, but the Pixel 3 does a pretty good job of balancing the data so you can see their faces clearly. In the rose picture there’s decent depth of field — not a lot, but the Pixel 3 knows what it’s looking at. There are limits, and you can see some of the choices the Pixel 3 has to make in the photo of the Notre Dame alcove, but those limits mostly show themselves in challenging situations where most any camera would show limitations of some sort.

I personally do a fair amount of photo-editing of my pictures, both to bring up details and for aesthetic effect, and the Pixel 3 gives me a fair amount to work with, even as it records the data into a lossy format like jpg (there is an option to have the camera record in RAW — the lossless format that gives photographers the most information to work with — but I didn’t turn that on and don’t really plan to except on very special occasions, because the files sizes are huge). It’s a fact that for a lot of photos, I don’t really have to do much editing at all — I merely straighten out sightlines or crop for better composition as much as I tweak colors or bring up shadows.

Out of the box, the Pixel 3 takes pictures that are better than “good enough,” and that’s a good thing. For people who like fiddling with photos like me, what comes out of the camera is even better than that.

3. One of the — perfectly reasonable — knocks on the Pixel 3 is that where other high-end cell phone cameras have an optical zoom function, the Pixel 3 doesn’t, Google instead opting to try to deal with zoom through processing (involving the minute unsteadiness of the human hand, or something, to help fill in interpolative gaps). I used the zoom function a lot while walking around and trying to get details that would otherwise be too far away. My verdict on the zoom is: well, it does something, but razor-sharp details isn’t it.

This is again probably best viewed, so here are four photos at or close to full zoom, three of statutes or architectural details at the Louvre, and one, of that tower they have there in Paris. Again, right-click on the picture for details (or in this case, lack thereof). Again, these pictures are straight out of the camera and otherwise unedited:

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My impression of these zoomed in pictures is that they don’t look like photos, they look like pastel drawings, or what happens when you use a very light “oil painting” photo filter from Photoshop or some other photo app. They don’t look bad? But at the same time, this is not what I want when I zoom in. I zoom in because I want a closer look at something, not an artful, detail-smoothed representation of that thing.

I read in a review of the Pixel 3 where a reviewer notes that the zoom works as intended up to about a 1.5x zoom, and after that things start getting overly interpretive. My experience has been that this estimation is largely correct. I have some pictures that are moderately zoomed in that are perfectly good. But too much zoom means you’re getting the AI version of impressionism. My thought on this is that this iteration of AI zoom is only the first, and that Google will probably get better at it as it goes along, because that’s what Google generally does. So two Pixel generations from now, this will likely be a solved issue (or alternately, Google will throw up its hands and just put an optical zoom on future Pixels). Here with the Pixel 3 and today, however, be aware that the zoom works up to a point (1.5x or so), and then it gets kind of wacky.

4. The only other real issue with the Pixel 3 that I’ve noticed is that it feels a bit slower than the Pixel 2; sometimes there seems to be a lag between when I press the button to take the picture and the camera registers the picture being taken. It’s a relatively small issue but it’s been noticeable to me, and I wonder if other people have been experiencing it as well. I’ve not missed any photos because of it, fortunately. But be aware of the possibility of a bit of shutter lag.

5. On the selfie front, the Pixel 3 features a “wide angle selfie” mode — an optical zoom out, if you will, thanks to two cameras on the front of the phone. This actually is very useful for when you’re trying to get a lot of people into frame while taking selfies:

Do be aware the the wide-angle selfie mode has some distortion. But then, selfie cameras have distortion anyway (it’s why your nose always looks big in a selfie), so I guess you pick your poison with selfie distortion. What I do know is that I’ve used the wide-angle selfie function several times already, so this was a smart add-on on Google’s part.

6. This is not meant to be an exhaustive review of the Pixel 3 camera, but one that touches on how I’ve been using it. I’m not covering a lot of the functionality of the thing — I haven’t used the video mode, or the panorama mode or tried the “HDR+ enhanced” mode, or sideloaded the apparently super-cool but not-officially-released “night mode” into the phone to try it out (the night mode apparently makes it possible to take super clear pictures in very low light, and the key as far as I can tell is a long exposure time, which, well, yes, it would be, wouldn’t it). I’m not covering any of those things because, as noted, this is not how I’ve been using the camera. I’ve been using the camera in a pretty straightforward fashion, as I suspect most people will.

And as a “daily driver” camera, the Pixel 3 really works. It takes great pictures and in all sorts of circumstances, and with the exception of the zoom above a certain point, steps up when you need it to (also, as an aside, the fact that the Pixel 3 comes with unlimited storage in Google Photos is a point well in its favor, since you can store your photos there and keep your phone’s memory relatively uncluttered). We’re now well past the point where the average person has to wonder whether they’re missing out on really excellent photos if they only have their cell phone with them. With the Pixel 3, the answer to that is definitively “you’re not missing out.” This phone will get that great shot for you, most of the time.

7. Does this mean I’m ready to ditch my dSLR for the Pixel 3 full time? No; the dSLR still has a better sensor, better lenses, and does specific things much better than the Pixel 3 does or will (like, sorry, Google, zoom). But this isn’t an either/or situation; this is a “this, and” situation. I no longer have one excellent camera and one camera that I just happen to carry around; I have two excellent cameras whose use cases overlap but are not a perfect circle on the Venn diagram. I don’t suspect I’ll ever stop using a dedicated camera for particular things where a high-end, single-use piece of machinery makes sense. But, as noted above, when I have my Pixel 3 with me, I don’t worry that I don’t generally have enough camera with me.

8. Does it make sense for people to upgrade to a Pixel 3? I’m very happy I did, but I also acknowledge I’m a tech geek with a particular interest in photography, and I have enough money to indulge in this sort of thing (my other phone stopped working, which prompted me to get the Pixel 3, but let’s not pretend there wasn’t a good chance I would have gotten one anyway).

If you already have a Pixel 2 (or the first generation Pixel), some of the new capabilities of the Pixel 3 camera are going to be available to you with software upgrades. So unless you’re already at the part of your upgrade cycle where you’re getting a new phone anyway, you can probably sit tight and be fine. If you have the latest generation of “flagship” phone from Apple, Samsung or any other high-end phone manufacturer, you’re also probably just fine. Cameras are the new hotness on phones and every manufacturer will tell you why their iteration of cellphone camera tech is the best. It’s getting a little silly (some upcoming phones will have up to five cameras on the back of a phone, which seems much of a muchness), but on the other hand if you’ve got a high end, recent phone, you probably have a very good cell phone camera no matter what. Finally, if you just don’t care about photos, either from your cell phone or in general, the Pixel 3’s camera capabilities won’t matter regardless.

But if you are looking to upgrade, do like taking pictures and want to have the possibility of taking genuinely good photos with your phone, are fine with Google knowing everything about your digital life, and (not trivially) have between $800 and $1,000 to splash out on a phone (or have Verizon, which will let you slide it into your existing plan for a monthly fee), then I can really very highly recommend the Pixel 3. Aside from (yes) taking some of the best photos possible on a cell phone, it is also otherwise a very solid high-end phone, with some features (call screening, I’m looking at you) that are amazing differentiators, and an operating system upgrade cycle that means you always have the best, most recent version of Android first.

For me, in any event, it’s been well worth the upgrade, and not just for the photos, although the photos probably would have been enough. I really like this camera, and I really like this phone.

Taking Pictures With the Pixel 3: Some Thoughts When I was heading to France last week, I considered taking my Nikon d750 with me, because I thought, not unreasonably, that France might be a photogenic country and that I might want to get some high quality photos of the place.