#I commented this but i think adding the image sells my point

[nightofnetter]

One person on tumblr: I headcanon Barbie as aroace!

People in the comments: (being queerphobic)

Other people in the comments: actually I think she’s lesbian/pan/other.

I heard someone call barbie disappointingly heterosexual and I've never disagreed with anything more strongly in my life

[thatone-brightstar]

More than all the stars (Carmy Berzatto x Fem!Reader) (The Bear & The Fox Series)

Chapter 2: Heavy is the head 'n all that

Words: 4.9k

summary: Carmy gets a visit from an old friend/ you offer Richie a fresh new start.

a/n: Hiii, i know i took my sweet time to update this but i did have some fun stuff to write for kinktober (link here! if you haven't read that) and it truly helped to regain my creativity to continue this bad boy so here ya go!

remember reblogs and comments are the way to show appreciation for your favorite creators and lmk if you wanna be added to the taglist!

Warnings: Minors DNI, p in v unprotected, in the shower, fluff and smut, oral sex (male receiving), cock warming if you squint

Chapter 1.

Carmy’s hand holds a gentle yet firm grip on yours as you scout the various colorful stands selling all sorts of produce along the busy street. Despite the restaurant being closed for a few weeks now, the routine seemed hard to break and you had both woken up early enough to catch the market. Between coffee scented clouds and the murmur of conversation, you stroll alongside Carmen, stopping at every few booths to check out the products and take the vendors information for future deliveries. Though not buying as much as you usually would for The Beef, it felt nice to buy your groceries directly from the source. 

“So what did Marge say about Ava’s classes?” He asks in your direction, distracted by the crate of shiny tomatoes occupying the sidewalk.

“Oh, I think her words were ‘anything for your little niece, my sweet’.” You answer back in a terrible imitation of an english accent. 

“Your little niece, huh?” He adds with a smirk, taking a sip from the tea filled travel cup in his other hand.

“Alright, chill-” You reply with a similar smile. “It’s for Ava.”

You stop and let go of his hand to pick out a box of cherries and pull cash from your bag to pay. Carmy notices the bag starting to fill up and takes the handles off your shoulder, swinging it over his own and threading his fingers through yours once again. He pulls up your hand to place a warm peck on it, raising a red on your face that almost matched the cherries. 

From your point of view, the morning sun casts a brilliant glow over the baseball hat hiding his untamed  hair. Little specks of gold dance along his barely  untrimmed jaw and another blush sparks over your features as the image of you kissing his stubble pops into your head. 

“D’you think it’d be weird if I gave Richie my mom’s number?” You voice your thoughts suddenly. 

He turns to you with a puzzled expression. “And the thought came to you because…?”

You shrug and redirect your attention back to the rows of polished apples beside you. “Dunno. I just- I don’t think she’s ever gone out with anyone since well… y’know.”

Carmy nods his head slowly in a way that shows he understands and doesn’t pressure you to over explain. “And you wanna start with Richie?” He jokes instead. 

“C’mon he’s not a bad guy. And he’s not bad lookin’ either… he just needs a push.” 

A low mumble from his direction makes you turn your head and you almost don’t hear him whisper against the lid of his cup. “If you like stupid  Richie so much, why don’t you fuckin’ marry ‘em…”

You laugh at his words, joyful and warm, and shove him softly with your elbow.  “I meant, that it’d be nice to see them happy...” Your eyes wander up to him again, only to find his already darting over your face, a sweet smile set in place. “To have something like this. Don’t you think?”

Carmy lets go of your hand to throw his arm over your shoulder and pull you in even closer while another giggle blooms over your chest. 

“I think that’s a great idea.” He whispers near your ear. “Your mother’s definitely the push Richie could use.”

Once your bag is too full to keep cramming stuff in and you’ve swept the streets multiple times, you finally make your way out. There’s a tiny old lady in a small booth by the edge selling colorful bouquets that you almost don’t notice. But he does and stops beside it, quickly handing her the money with a shy smile and picking out the one with the most Carnations on it.

“Here.” He says  and leans down to peck your cheek. 

You flush and whisper a sweet ‘thank you’, cradling the delicate buds between your free hand and your chest.  Even in the cold breeze surrounding you, the heat radiating off you is enough to keep you warm all the way home.

**********

He had not known a second of peace after dropping you off at the gallery that morning. Between deep cleaning and crunching numbers with Nat, Carmy’s head felt like it was splitting in two. 

“Jesus fuck…” He mumbles, pinching tightly between his brows in hopes that it dissipates the incoming migraine. “I swear we can’t catch a fuckin’ break.”

“Yeah, it doesn’t make my day either-“ She answers back sarcastically. “We’re gonna need someone to come get it tested-“

“Tested for what?” Richie interrupts, hand pointing to the same spot on the wall where the siblings are staring. 

“For fucking rabies- mold Richard,  what do you think-“

“-You’re makin a storm out of nothin’ Nat-“

“It’s not nothing, it’s mold-” 

“Mold is just a trigger word, okay-“

“Shut the fuck up and let me think.” Carmy speaks louder than intended, the sound vibrating in his skull and making him wince. 

He takes a deep breath then rises his head up again. 

“Yeah- yeah I think we’re gonna need to call someone for that. Check how much it’s gonna be?” He asks his sister, who only rolls her eyes  and nods, turning away. 

“Cousin c’mon, I can totally fix that shit-“

“Cousin-“

“-I just need some sealant and-“

“Cousin-“

“-good as fuckin’ new-“

“Richie!” He shouts and shuts his eyes at the shutter in his head. “Just… let an expert do it, alright?”

He watches as his cousin opens his mouth to respond, then instead closes it and raises his hands in surrender, muttering a soft ‘alright, fine.’ 

“Oh, that reminds me, I gotta go pick up Ava and drop her at your girl’s class. Need anythin’ while I’m gone?” 

Carmy shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose once again, a habit often repeated and confirmed by the tender ache on his nose bridge. “No, we’re good. Still can’t do much without the fuckin’ permits.” He mutters back.

“ Did Jimmy get back to you on that?”

“Not since you asked this morning…” His voice sounds irritated, but it has more to do with the pulsing in his head. 

Richie only nods and despite wanting to, doesn’t keep pushing it. He instead only throws a ‘call me if you need anythin’ and quickly exits through the patched up front door, washing Carmy in yellow afternoon rays before it quickly closes and he's back to the fluorescent blue.

With the silence of the empty restaurant, he allows himself a second to breathe, even falling heavily on one of the few dust covered stools that haven’t been taken down to storage yet. Carmy pulls a cigarette from the fresh package in his back pocket and lights it, taking a deep drag that instantly numbs out the start of a headache. While he takes another deep drag, he pulls out his phone where your text sits under a reminder to ‘call the fucking fridge guy, carmy <3’ from his sister. 

There’s another rattle from the door and he rolls his eyes, typical of his cousin to forget something when he was probably too far away to come back, so he doesn’t even bother to turn around. Instead he presses the call button and waits, leg shaking impatiently over the footrest and camouflaging the steps moving closer to him. 

“Hey…” He hears once the call sends him to voicemail and the delicate tube in his hand almost breaks at the filter. The familiar voice crashes over his back and drowns him instantly in freezing water. “...I’m looking for a Ms. Carmen Berzatto?”

**********

For the first time in weeks, the gallery finally seemed to fall into its usual serene pace. Winter vacation was over and your classes had begun filling up again- with children retelling the tales of the places they visited while out of the city. Marjorie had informed you that morning that word of mouth had followed its course since the charity event and six more kids would be joining you in a few days, and now you had more easels to put together before the weekend.

The small plastic screw falls off your hand for the second time and you groan up to the ceiling before picking it up. The easels came with too many small pieces to count and the fact that you still had four more to finish in the back, did not help with the overall mood. As you place the screw back into the little hole and press the screwdriver against the head, it pops to the side and goes bouncing off out of your view.

While you crouch down and pull your hair back to try and see if it’s anywhere close, the entrance bell signals a new arrival, and the excited steps that follow have you straightening back up. ‘Is it five o'clock already?’ you think and instinctively run your hands down the paint hardened apron, as if that’ll make it seem more presentable. A relaxed breath calms you down at the familiar sound of Richie’s voice calling you from the front.

“Back here!” You call out and begin to group up all the scattered screws you can find for a day where each piece won’t make you want to cry.

“There’s our Michelangelo!” He belts out as soon as he spots you, extending one long arm to his side, while the other is taken hostage by a small little thing cradling a Bluey backpack. 

Once he’s close enough, the extended arm hooks over your shoulders and pulls you to his chest, placing a chaste kiss over your hair. ‘okay-’ is all you can say and push him away  lightly once he’s already letting you go.

“Again- thank you for this-” Richie groans slightly while carefully placing Ava on the floor in front of him, his hands on her shoulders swallowing up her small frame. “She promised to be on her bestest behavior, right Ava?” She nods shyly.

It’s a side of him you’ve never seen before. He’s being tender and kind, and has spoken more than five words without wedging a single ‘fuck’ into the sentence. You can say you’re impressed, though the feeling soon turns sour- like the many times you’ve been a spectator to a loving father/ daughter duo. Richie’s rubbing his thumb softly over her cherry cheeks and even though it’s a simple action that shouldn’t arise anything, the uncomfortable knot in your throat still takes its place. 

From his kneeled position, he can see the various pieces of chunky plastic laying astray and he signals with his head in its direction. 

“New exhibition or somethin’?” 

You clear your throat quickly and wipe the beginning of your sweaty palms on the back of your shirt, embarrassed that you may have been caught staring.

“Uh, no actually. Just some fuc-un-” You correct yourself instantly when your eyes flicker to the small child. “-some fun easels I have to assemble for the new kids.”

“Let me help you-” He’s quick on his feet, already picking up the screwdriver before you get a chance to decline.

“No, leave it- it’s fine. I’ll try again tomorrow… plus, don’t you have to head back to The Beef?”

He only shrugs and takes off his jacket, then begins to count the number of holes on the plastic and pulls out the same number of screws.

“Can’t do much without permits. And you look like you could use the help.”

You crack your locked knuckles as you watch him work, still considering rejecting the offer. But he joins together more pieces in those ten minutes than you have in half an hour, and who are you to reject a man searching for purpose? Instead, you take Ava’s bag from her and lead her to one of the newer stations before the rest of the kids arrive.

“Thank you.” You offer with a small smile in his direction, right before the bell rings again and more hurried footsteps echo in your direction. 

“If you’re still feeling charitable, there’s four more in the back-” You add in a hurry and shrug apologetically at the stunned look over his face. “You offered to help…”

Richie ended up staying through the whole lesson. Wandering every few minutes behind his daughter’s station, arms folded with the screwdriver still in hand and contemplating the canvas like the world’s most respected critic. It took him the whole hour and a half to finish assembling all the easels and only had plastic wrap to pick up by the time the last kid left. 

Ava sat happy in your rolling chair, sugar-free cookie crumbs sprinkled around her face and paint stained fingers.

“Isn’t that shit toxic?” Richie asks through a concerned face as he bent down to pick up the last of the trash.

You also turn in her direction and shrug, cleaning your own hands with a rag. “Not really, we buy non-toxic for finger painting. It was easier than asking them to stop licking it off…” He only nods at your response- but not fully convinced- sends Ava to wash her hands a second time.

“Thanks again for the help.” You call out with a nod in his direction, then bite your lip. 

You don’t know what to say or how to bring it up, only left staring at him as your mouth opens and closes, popping the bubble wrap in your hands. “Hey, Richie?” 

He turns, brows raised. ‘There’s no turning back now’.

“Have you tried uh… y’know, dating after Ava’s mom?”

“Listen kid, you know I love ya, but Carmy’s family and-” You roll your eyes and throw the trash in his direction, barely missing his head.

“Not like that, dumbass!” You scold with an amused smile. “I just thought- god this is so fuckin’ weird- here.”

Richie’s expression is puzzled, eyes darting between the contents of your outstretched hand and your own flushed face. He reaches towards it and when he finally takes it, your hand retrieves back to your body and crosses over your chest.

“And this is…?”

“It’s my mother’s number… I know you kinda got a thing for her.” You wave your hand in the air when it looks like he’s about to contradict your statement. “C’mon dude, I have eyes, ‘kay? ’m not blind. A bit grossed out, but not blind.” You admit the last part only to yourself.

The silence breaks with the sound of soft steps on the stairs and an enthusiastic rendition of ‘shake it off’. Richie folds the small paper and buries it securely in his jacket pocket, clearing his throat in the process.

“She likes white wine but not the sweet kind, salsa- both food and the dance- and don’t even mention Celia Cruz or she’ll never shut up about her.” You rush through as the little steps move closer to the back.

“Thanks.” He mumbles back, then a slight grin forms over his face. “So does that make me your dad now?” He teases and you groan, rolling your eyes for the third time in less than two hours.

 “Don’t make me regret it- and don’t make it weirder, okay?!”

Your phone rings from inside the apron before he has a chance to bicker back and a smile grows on your face at the caller ID. 

“Hey Carm, ready for later?” You turn away from Richie, who cleans the crumbs off Ava’s face before swinging her bag over his shoulder and waving goodbye.

There’s a few silent seconds on the other line, then a heavy sigh travels through the phone and perches over your chest. “Uh, yeah about that…”

“Oh no…” You interrupt before he even has the chance to explain.

“I know, I know, I’m so sorry-” He begins and you can hear the shuffling on the other side. You can almost picture him running his hand through his already messy hair and staring up at the ceiling as if he’ll find all of life’s answers there. “I’ll explain at home but right now I gotta stay later.”

“It’s okay, I’ll just reschedule and see if they can show us the place another day.” Your voice sounds reassuring, though all that’s running through your head is the lightweight promise he made a few days back.

“Yes-okay, great.” Carmy answers rushed, not catching the slight disappointment in your tone. “This is turning out way more difficult than I thought.” He mumbles against the mic.

“Well, y'know ‘heavy is the head’ ‘n all that.” Your smile grows nervous as you try lightening the mood but only a distracted half sigh, half laugh follows a second later.

He clears his throat and rushes through his words again. “Listen, don’t make dinner. I’ll buy us somethin’ on the way home, okay?”

“Yeah, sure… see you at home.” 

**********

The train ride home bombards your thoughts with a little guilt. You couldn’t help the slight disappointment ringing in your ears from the failed promise. Then you remember how hard he’s been working lately- or since you’ve known him really- and you feel foolish for letting such a small thing get to you. 

So once you arrive home, instead of dinner, you round up the few candles you brought with you and place them strategically around the small bathroom. Then you do your best to scrub the paint out from under your fingernails and strip into nothing but the soft fluffy blue robe he gave you on Christmas. Once you see the short ‘omw’ text, you begin to light the candles, praying they won’t burn the place down, and entertain yourself by arranging the Carnations from that morning in a little vase you made at the gallery. ‘I should give it a friend’ 

The muffled jingle of keys cuts your train of thought short, followed by his footsteps and a heavy sigh once he shuts the door and takes his coat off.

“Babe?” 

“In the kitchen!” You call back and bite your lip in anticipation, quickly rearranging the robe so your collarbone is a little more exposed.

“What? No- I brought dinner…” His tone dies down once he spots you around the corner, take out bag weighing down from his outstretched arm.

“‘M not making dinner.” You answer with a soft smile and keep your attention on the flowers sitting beside you on the counter. 

His gaze shamelessly runs along your bare legs, crossed in a way that exposes all the way up to your upper thigh but no more than that. You take your time to finish trimming the rest of the stems, then push the vase to the side and swing your legs to hop off the counter. The movement seems absolutely graceful to him and he can’t do anything but lean against the wall to regain his balance as you move closer to him.

You hold on to the sides of his torso and stand up on your toes to kiss his lips sweetly. You wanted it to be a quick teasing kiss, but his hand wraps around your back immediately and presses your chests together. He sighs against your mouth, the ‘thump’ of the bag hitting the floor vibrates in the room and soon both his arms circle you close. 

Your hands cling to his broad shoulders and your toes drag along the floor as he lifts you lightly and moves deeper into the room. The simple movement makes your head swoon with  love.

“...missed you.” He mumbles between kisses down your cheek and buries his face in the crook of your neck, sighing again.

“Hard day?”

He only nods, too occupied with the kisses he leaves on your exposed skin. You place another on his hair and peel yourself away slowly, hands still tight over his. 

“C’mon.” You whisper and nod deeper into the apartment.

His brow creases with questions he doesn’t ask, instead following behind you silently into the room. The usual white tiles glow yellow with the tiny dancing flames, Carmy’s eyes instantly catch on to the flickering shadows and take his breath away. When you turn to him, his eyes are wide and soft, with the small specks of the candle wicks glistening inside them. Your hand lets go of his to run a tender finger over a smudge on his cheek, while the other begins to undo the knot on your robe.

He’s motionless. The only sign of movements come from the slight bob of his Adam’s apple and the way his eyes constantly drag down to your chest before he pulls them back up. 

“I wanna help you relax…” Your voice is sweet, barely above a whisper and drowned out by the sound of the soft fabric cascading down your body and pooling around your feet. “Can I?” 

All he can do is nod, transfixed by the way your tan skin glows almost golden in the flickering lights. He lets you pull the white shirt over his head, then while he finishes undressing, you turn the water on and watch as the steam starts invading the empty space. Carmy’s hands caress the sides of your hips and little kisses spark the goosebumps on your shoulder, but once you’re both fully inside, you wiggle away from his touch and turn to face him again.

“I’m taking care of you.” You repeat, and grab his biceps to push him deeper into the streaming water.

You let it fall over his head until the locks grow a shade darker and most of them lose their bounce, then you turn the water down and reach for your scented shampoo.

“Turn ‘around for me?.” You request while you lather the soap on your hands.

Carmy rolls his eyes and gives you a toothy grin, but obliges anyway. You can see his shoulders instantly relax as your fingers tread through the curls, nails raking gently over his scalp in a rhythmic motion that has his neck losing a hold of his head and tipping it towards the cold tile. A smug smile covers your face, wet strands of hair decorating your cheeks, and you even make an effort to continue the gentle movements even after the bubbles have disappeared.

Instead of washing it away, you bring the massage down to his neck, thumbs pressing insistently over the numerous knots you find on your way down. He’s no different than the clay you’ve been experimenting with at work, you offer him as much tenderness and dedication as you would any other work of art.

The soft sounds of his breathing mix with the thin stream of water rushing over your bodies. You didn’t even notice how close you’ve moved to him until your breath bounces back to your cheeks. You take the chance to place little wet kisses along his spine as your fingers dig into the muscles of his back and the shudder he breathes out makes the taste of shampoo on your lips completely worth it. You press them to his warm skin again and again as your hands work down his spine and to the pretty dimples decorating the bottom of it. 

By the time your movements have ceased, both of your breathing is struggling with need.

You use the last bit of control in your voice to call his name. “Carmy…” It’s almost silent, but the plea in your tone is enough to make him turn to you.

The sight of his blown out pupils and the way his hair darkens his face is enough to make you come on the spot. Without hesitation, you gently drape your arms over his puffing chest, raking your nails over it as you pepper kisses in a messy line down. Your knees fall over the tile with a soft slap that resonates in the quiet room.

“Fuck-” Carmen blows out, eyes fixated on how fucking good you look on your knees for him. 

Your need is too strong to tease him, instead you take his already hard cock in your hand and start giving it a few soft pumps without losing his stare. 

“Will you let me take care of you?” You ask again in a sultry voice. The water droplets have accumulated over your lashes and your wet hair cascades over your shoulders, making you look ethereal in Carmy’s eyes and all he can do is nod and sigh when you kiss the tip.

His hand flies up to grip the slick tiles when you finally wrap your lips around his girth and take him fully into your mouth. The rhythm is slow and torturous as you pull moan after groan from the depths of his chest, until he grows too impatient and his hips begin to buck forward into your mouth.

“That’s it baby, that’s it… oh fuck.” Carmy whispers words of encouragement that travel straight to your aching pussy. He groans into the side of his extended arm, but only for a short second, because he can’t dare to take his eyes off you any longer than that.

Each sound he makes pushes your movements faster and each slurp and drag of your tongue makes him groan even deeper, it’s a vicious cycle of obscene sounds that neither of you want to break. Through hooded eyes, he spots your other hand dragging into the inside of your parted thighs and he thinks he might come just from that alone. 

With a few more bobs of your head, you pull him out with a soft ‘pop’ and he takes the chance to catch his breath, before leaning down, hooking his hands under your arms and pulling you up to him in one swift motion.

In a second, your feet are up and off the floor and the cold contrast of the tiles on your hot back brings chills over your excited skin. He latches onto your lips in seconds, one hand cradling your cheek while the other wraps tightly around your waist. Your legs circle his hips with strength as he rubs his stiff erection between your thighs.

“You like sucking my cock, huh?” He whispers in a shaky breath while his hips grind incessantly over your slick cunt. “Look how fuckin’ wet you got. You gonna let me take care of you now, baby?”

He pulls his hand from your face and readjusts his arms around your thighs so he has a better grip on you, but doesn’t slip in yet. Instead he drags the length along your folds and watches you whine and squirm with want between his arms.

“Yes, Bear, take care of me please. I need you.” His cock jolts at your words and the neediness behind them is enough teasing for him.

He slips right in, like coming home, and wastes no time in pulling back out to set a rapid pattern that has your breasts bouncing in his face. Carmy buries his mouth by your neck, dragging his teeth down to your chest and back up, leaving crescent shaped bruises that you’ll probably have to cover with makeup tomorrow. Right now though, he doesn’t care, he’s proud of them and how they represent that you’re truly and wholeheartedly his.

“You’re fuck-ing me so good.” A string of mewls falls from your lips at the mixture of sensations and your nails dig firmly into his shoulders to help ground you back. 

But Carmy’s hips snap up continuously to a spot he’s learnt you like, making your head fall heavy over his shoulders. You’re gasping for air with each stroke and drag of his cock, unable to regain strength in your neck to look up at his eyes. 

“Yeah?” He whispers near your ear, erupting shivers along the skin his breath caresses as he continues railing into you. “And you’re takin’ me like such a good girl.” His movements are too fast for you to keep up with your hips, so all you do is take it, and happily so.

“C’mon baby, come f’me yeah?” 

You’re too high to listen to his words, but your body reacts on command as the tension in your navel snaps and a guttural moan rips your throat open. Carmy follows close behind you, groaning into the side of your neck and pressing you impossible closer to his heaving chest.

As the bliss dissipates into tiny waves, you reach up to his clean locks. He answers back with another soft kiss.

“Can we stay like this?” He asks timidly into your skin. 

You smile at the sudden softness and reach down to fully turn the water off. “Don’t you wanna finish showering first? or… pull out?”

Carmy answers with a soft ‘no.’. You expect him to let you down so you can both dry yourselves at least, but he doesn’t. Instead, he presses you securely to his chest again and makes his way out of the shower. 

You squeal and press your thighs hard around his own when he leans down to blow out the candles, one by one, in fear that he may drop you. A relaxed laugh vibrates in his chest and joins your nervous giggle as he manages the task flawlessly.

“See, I got you.” He says with a proud smile- one that crinkles the sides of his eyes and makes him look boyish and carefree- as he carries you to the warm bed.

‘I know you do' You think to yourself all night, wrapped in the safety of his arms.

Taglist: @pearlstiare @teteminne , @beebslebobs, @harrysmatcha , @yum-yahgurt , @pussy-f41ry , @kirakombat , @redsakura101 , @hobisunshine13 , @feyhunter78 and that's it lmao

[byemambo]

We Are Lead Actors as K-Pop Boy Group Concept Photos: A Deep Dive [1/2]

Because I can't be normal about anything, I took it upon myself for self indulgence (rip We Are Wednesdays) to share my takes on which boy group concepts the We Are lead actors are based on their editorials/professional photographs (with my own ideas for future photoshoots). I had a lot of fun with this and if anyone has other comments to add, please feel free to do so!

Pond Naravit as NCT 127 - 2 Baddies

Pond is such an amazing performer (yeah I see them kpop covers!) and I feel like his vibe definitely suits the more modern take on the hip hop concept. His pictorials from ELLE Thailand suited this perfectly, especially with the accessories (the earrings are my personal favorite). I'd love to see Pond's future editorials showcase more accessories and experiment with pattern and cuts of clothing, but keeping it on the darker side. His hair is also his selling point so styling his hair to show his facial features more is a huge plus.

What I'd Love to See: NCT 127 - Favorite (Vampire)

Pond's features can be emphasized by playing around with lighting since his clothing is rather simple, or even utilizing motion blur like Taeil's image second on the left. It's also the era of vampire content in QL recently (still mourning over no Boss as a vampire but we have Zomvivor so I guess I'll let it go this one time) so playing around with set design and props would be interesting, even something as simple as the location of the photoshoot itself to take advantage of the architecture.

Phuwin Tangsakyuen as ATEEZ - BOUNCY (K-HOT CHILLI PEPPERS)

I feel like from the images that I've seen Phuwin in, from his editorials to the fashion brands that named his ambassador like LOEWE, they seem to keep him in a more dapper and polished style such as the Frank Muller photoshoot for the Vanguard Beach watch collection. The green background instantly reminded me of one of the various concepts for ATEEZ's THE WORLD EP.2: OUTLAW EP featuring BOUNCY (K-HOT CHILI PEPPERS) as its title track, but the clothing for ATEEZ is more cyberpunk influenced to fit their alternate universe in their music video and lore. I'd love to see Phuwin take on more experimental fashion for his future editorials but I'm sure that's a big ask given he's very set on what he wants for himself as a person working in the entertainment world, which I heavily respect.

What I'd Love to See: ATEEZ - 멋(The Real) (흥 : 興 Ver.)

Jongho's hat always sends me but to not take away from Phuwin's dapper style, there can be experimentation with color and pattern with minimal fashion statement accessories. From something as simple as including a turtleneck like San in the second image or adding mismatched pattern like Yeosang's dress shirt in the third image, I think his stylists could include more fun textures into his wardrobe without overwhelming or taking away from his established image.

Winny Thanawin as ONEUS - Baila Conmigo

I was torn knowing that Winny is overdue for a new editorial since L'Officiel and I need someone to get on the ball with that asap. Although I included both images, ONEUS's La Dolce Vita EP had gorgeous photos for their mermaid concept (which I'm still mad at RBW for not even including it anywhere except the story teaser images like bruh not even in the damn MV or physical album), so I can totally see Winny embracing a more oceanic and beach vibe (just from scrolling his Instagram feed with all sorts of photos of the beach or poolside). Blue being his favorite color is also just a no brainer for this type of concept.

What I'd Like to See: ONEUS - 쉽게 쓰여진 노래 (A Song Written Easily)

I need the photographer to take this man outdoors, preferably somewhere along the coast to really utilize the sun and ocean breeze. He also deserves to expand more with his blue tones, given that he seems to wear a lot of it just in every day life. If not a denim set, definitely in some cargo shorts with a Hawaiian inspired shirt.

Satang Kittiphop as P1Harmony - 겁나니 (Scared)

We need to give P1Harmony their flowers because when I saw these Satang photos for KAZZ Magazine, my mind really went to their DISHARMONY: BREAK OUT EP with Scared as the title track. He's also around the members' ages (born between '01 to '05) so if he really wanted to, he could be their secret seventh member (he blends in so well with Keeho in the second image my god). I also think GMMTV should continue marketing Satang's visual image as more tough and badass simply because I find it enjoyable to watch him in series like We Are as the silly goofy little brother archetype while also serving face.

What I'd Love to See: P1Harmony - 때깔 (Killin' It)

Y'all cannot tell me Satang wouldn't suit the best of both worlds with having his edge while also tying in his more silly image from the characters he's played that we know and love. Whether they achieve this look from fun statement pieces like fur coats or bold colors, I'd think seeing Satang push beyond his edgy image and becoming more experimental with his wardrobe would be insane.

If you made it this far, I really appreciate it! Y'all, I don't know anything about fashion like that so please: don't expect too much out of me. I recognize patterns because I'm neurodivergent and have a hyperfixations LOL so I have to split this post up into two due to the image limit (found here) but otherwise, I hope y'all get to check out new music or groups, or even the genre of K-Pop if you're unfamiliar and want to venture into it. All these groups are extremely talented and deserve all the love and support they can get <3

[senkusphone]

Replies to various tag comments

so I can reply but also not clutter everything with many posts, thanks for bearing with me.

@megacarapa No, thank you! That gif took so long to make, and I rarely get to use it lol. I had to undo a panning shot, and erase Senku in order to loop it. Check out this weird left over file from the process, you can see a bit of Senku under where I patched him off, and the subtitles moving as the image panned

@piuopon

Multimeter:

You don't understand, that's the multimeter I used for most of the last decade, even at the labs in university. I bought it from some guy on the street (I swear this is normal) cause it was very cheap, and it needed repairs which I did.

I gotta admit I love me an old instrument though. I think it's from the early 1970's as it's made with point to point connection (no circuit board) but it doesn't have the old Sanwa logo. Fun fact, to this day they still sell knockoffs of these old japanese Sanwa multimeters, under brands such as Sunma, Sunwa, etc (and they're still not cheaper than I paid for the og). My first multimeter when I was a kid was a knockoff 'Munwha' I believe, wish I still had it regardless.

If you want me to flex a real antique one, check out the Weston Selective Analyzer 665. This multimeter is from the 1930's. (also makes me wonder if there was a Weston Selective Analyzer 666)

The 'high grid test' and 'low grid test', the series capacitor condenser for the AC voltage scales, and the 'press to read' button are features that have long disappeared from multimeters as far as I can tell.

Senku:

It's hard for me to describe how much this series helped me pull through a comically dark time in my life. Senku is a very inspiring character, despite how much I like to dunk on him. When I needed a bit of inspiration the most, I was inspired to shamelessly and unapologetically pursue my interests in science and engineering that I had been growing increasingly disenchanted with after too many years in academic hell. Despite the fact that I am literally building a career on these interests, I have always been shamed for pursuing them in a non professional or academic way.

The dude said "get excited", and I did.

So, the fact that you perceive me that way, is really flattering to me, and I truly appreciate it, thank you.

🅱️enis:

I'll have you remember that the og KoS flag featured only one phallic shape and was designed by Yuzu, go figure what she was thinking of.

Someone must've decided it wasn't gay enough by the time Ryusui came around, and thus added a second one in conjuction (a design which Ryusui was the first to wear).

No idea who did it though, but I am putting suspicion on the artists (yuzu and namari) and Gen, because he likes to mess with people, of course. Wonder what the Ishigami villagers thought of this pattern, as they were exposed to this design long before they had any knowledge or remotely accurate concept of a rocket or spaceship...

... but they certainly knew other things.

Moving on

@aresagainstthemachine Hello again

Yes, as you say the frequencies are kinda fixed. Both the transmit and receive frequency depend in part to the capacitance of the antenna to the surrounding environment, there was even one occasion where hand capacitance to the large coil made this behave sorta like a theremin. (video there, but I no longer use this twitter).

Receive mode is a bit more complicated as adjusting the feedback/tickler coil to bring up the gain also shifts the frequency somewhat. Tuning regenerative radios is always a process of getting closer and closer adjusting the tuning capacitor of the front end and the coupling of the feedback. Now aparently I had some sort of mental void between then and now, 'cause the other day I was cleaning some boxes and I found this object

Then I remembered that back in the day I meant to discretely install this small variable capacitor to have at least a small amount of tuning control on the receiving coil. I guess I ended up not doing it when I saw it happened to fall near an existing station and adding this would have thrown that off. Feel free to message me if you got any more electronics questions, that'd be easier and I'd be happy to chat. Also thanks everyone for the reblogs and nice comments :)

[hyrulean-evalink]

I love getting comments like these.

DeviantArt gave people ALL the tools they need to avoid AI generated images. The block button, blocking tags and even added in its TOS to mark down every AI generated artwork with a specific classification so people can block it out. I made my part of the deal.

I totally understand and it is totally fair if you hate AI artworks and AI generated images, I see your points and I get it. What I am not okay with is insulting me, sending me death threats. I had someone commenting on my ART ACCOUNT (on Newgrounds) calling me a r*t*rd and a f*gg*t knowing full well I am autistic and queer. While also claiming I should "pick up a pencil for once" when I... Draw too? (for anyone calling caps on this, I still have the screenshots of these)

At the end of the day, I'm an 18yo young adult that was thrown into the world without any tools due to an abusive family. I'm trying to make ends meet and basically sell cheap AI generated artworks to FEED. What I gain in one day is almost instantly used up to buy a sandwich and some soda, sometimes a little pack of snacks or a donut if I'm lucky. Selling my hand drawn art didn't work, so I am just falling back into what works. I fully understand if you hate me for it and you are free to unfollow and block me, I will not judge you.

Just know that insulting and threatening me will just make me continue. I don't know how you think insulting people can make them change but go on I guess.

[beck-hartman]

Laughing as she etch-a-sketched him, he couldn't really deny it. Beck's eyes trailed down away from her face, purely to help her prove said point of course. "Hm? Sorry, did you say something?" With a cheeky grin, he added, eyes still not back up, "I think there was a missed opportunity on the etch-a-sketch thing though..."

"Oh, I know, baby," he murmured, barely even hiding it as anything resembling appropriate that time. "That's funny, so do I. We're old friends," he quipped, smiling back as she winked at him. "Where's your sense of danger?" He teased, kissing her temple, not that he would ever actually risk her reputation by letting someone walk in to her making a lot of noise. "My love, I'll ignore a lot of things for you, but even I can't legitimately sell that you don't do that. I'm kind of surprised you got the words out." He laughed as he ran his finger down her cheek that had a little bit of flush to it now, whether the warm water or their conversation...or the most likely option: both.

Shaking his head, he couldn't help but grin even wider at her. "It's your fault I didn't," he countered. Watching her admire the picture, he could stare at that image of her forever. How the hell did he get this lucky for her to look at him that way? Dragging some bubbles around for a more artistic shot and to give her a little more modesty, he mumbled as he took the picture, "wow. Gorgeous, baby." Then moving the bubbles away for less modesty, he playfully commented, "okay, and one for just me." Not like they weren't both for just him, but this was even more. After he took that one, he gave her a little nod to come closer with a soft "c'mere."

She laughed at his joke, taking his cheeks between her hands and shaking it back and forth a little. "Etch-a-Sketch," Shosh said in way of explanation, laughing at herself now. "You won't be paying any attention to how not bossy I'm being if this is the outfit I'm wearing." Or lack of outfit...semantics.

"I like coming in the lighthouse," Shosh countered despite the little shiver that ran through her. "Well, I can take breaks. I know the boss pretty well, I'm sure she'd understand once she saw you." She gave him a wink. "Just do me a favor and flip the sign to closed whenever you come in." She scooted further back into the cocoon of his arms, resting her head back against his chest. "I don't know what you're talking about. Blushing, me? Two things I never do, baby: blush and be bossy."

She gave him a look that was all sass. "Not my fault I think ahead." No one else but Beck could get Shosh to this level now, and it was solely because she felt comfortable enough to be herself around him. She hummed in agreement, eyes still on the photo she had taken. There were plenty photos of him or the two of them together on her phone, but this was definitely a new favorite. He looked so happy, so calm. His hands on her thighs were just out of frame, but she would know they were there. At his request, Shosh handed her phone over to him, her eye roll miniscule. As he held it up to take his own picture, Shosh gave him a closed-lip smile. Small but genuine, with her eyes holding nothing but adoration.

[elixlozgamer]

Im probably gonna get a lot of hate. Im probably gonna get death threats in my ask box (again. Yes Im looking at you "kill the soldiers" anon. Speaking of which, anon will be OFF until this post stops getting notifs. Block me if you don't want to see any other opinions than you own, because I'm allowed to have them.)

Rest of PSA is below the cut. TW for mention of death threats and possible cussing.

But we do NOT need to send death threats, things with smutty themes, etc. Into a celebrities ask box all because they're gonna be on this site.

They're people just as much as we are. If you don't like them, theres a handy-dandy feature called "blocking and moving on". Not writing rude messages. Not saying "Blazing a post is a pvp attack". (Because god forbid an artist use a feature to be seen)

I understand not wanting big corps to make their way on Tumblr. Believe me, I do. However Tumblr's advertising (or at least on mobile) is easilly skippable/you can scroll past or actually look at the ad if its somewhat interesting.

Also, Tumblr sells shoelaces for 19 dollars. That should only be like three dollars, but it shows that it really does need the money. (@indigoartistqueen mentioned that, along with other various things in this article) Such as paying programmers to create new features. Paying artists to create new logos and themes. paying the employees that check out the reports. (which I am rlly sorry for them bc I just so happen to keep finding really rude comments or things shipping an 8 year old with an 1000 year old.)

So, if tumblr got a little more money, then merch will cost less. Features will cost less. You can crab someone for less for goodness sakes. (Speaking if which, if you REALLY hate a celeb that badly, run them off with crabs.) But tumblr, just like any other site and app, NEEDS money to keep it running.

Also, don't you think SOME form of algorithm will be good? Or at least better search results? Because artists do tend to use very different tags. (Like memes, funny, lmao, lol, etc.) All that could be grouped under "Funny" so that people can actually find and search for their content easier.

Not to mention that with the way the tumblr staff are, I highly doubt they're gonna be implementing things that will cause a riot from their supporters, like the algorithm, bc the blogs ARE the algorythm, reblogging stuff they like to spread it out.

But just a better tagging system! i myself have stopped posting art as much because I just DON'T get seen! People just don't like or reblog my work, but if I were to blaze it, I would suddenly have 1,000 notes full of threats and "this is a pvp attack. Everybody block on sight."

Now, getting back to the celebrity thing. So many people have said that they don't want any political opinions to divide this site. Well I'd hate to break it to you, but we have, in some form, a type of political dispute. Usually its over the type of view one should have on a fiction character. How you can interpret them. What headcanons are correct. Which fandoms better. Which characters hotter. I could go on over the disputes! Plus the political side of tumblr! Science side of tumblr! Religous site on tumblr!

It never ends! If you don't like a celebrity, DON'T SEND DEATH THREATS TO THEIR ASK BOX! Some will actually commit it! Instead, BLOCK. THEM. It's easy! Don't pay attention to it! Just block them. If you really don't like them, send a cursed image, like I don't know, Patrick Star in stripper heels! A perfect circle thats slightly off! Do NOT send threats, because they're humans just like you! (Or as a Fairy myself, xenogenders as well)

Point is, quit trying to run celebrities off this site all because you're afraid of contriversal opinions that you don't agree with! Just block them! It's there for a reason! It's not like roblox where you can only block 100 people total!

Use the block feature. Don't fight fire with fire. It will ONLY get worse. You don't see firemen using flamethrowers, do you??? No! Please for the LOVE OF WHOEVER OR WHATEVER YOU BELIEVE IN quit spreading hate! It only makes things worse! You're only making yourself worse! Just because tumblr is an anonymous site does not mean you can do whatever you want... Because guess what? There's other humans right behind that post you just saw! (Unless its a bot ofc, that's a different story for another time)

Respectfully, have a good day. If you don't like my opinion, block me. If you send me a threat, I'll block and report you.

[arty-shadow-morningstar]

A Failed Betrothal (6)

Here is a new chapter for you guys. I am terrible at writing feelings and this is my best shot.😅 Tell me what you think.

[Masterlist]

(PART 1)(PART 5)

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(Words in bold is French)

“Tch, Drake is going to be busy trying to find Hawkmoth. He can’t go around Paris, being Dupain-Cheng’s boyfriend. Besides, he can’t be a proper boyfriend even in his most lucid moments. I will be her boyfriend instead.”

Tim was glad he didn’t take a sip of his coffee when Damian volunteered to be Marinette’s boyfriend. But he still choked on air. Jason with his limited knowledge of french was confused. Damian didn’t do what he heard, right?

“No, you can’t. Chloe already told them about Tim. If I come in with a different boyfriend, they would get suspicious. We can work on Hawkmoth while we go on those dates. Besides, I thought you don’t like me. That’s not going to sell the image of a loving couple.” Marinette pointed out. (She also doesn’t want to do this fake-date thing. Not because she likes Damian and she had always been a goner for green eyes and totally would be date him if it weren’t for some stupid curse dictating her feelings for him and fake-dating him might get her catch feelings for him and she would get her heart broken when this is all over and she would stay single forever and be a lonely old lady with hamsters and cats for company.)

“Actually, Mari-bug, I only told the class how romantic your boyfriend is. I never told them what he looked like. Just in case, Timothy couldn’t make it. I have back-up favors to cash in.” Chloe explained.

Marinette didn’t even know why she was surprised at that, this was Chloe after all.

“You have more than one American boy around our age in your debt who you intend to be my boyfriend? Sounds like you, Queenie. So that also means that Damian doesn’t have to do it if he doesn’t want to.”

“My offer still stands. I will be your ‘boyfriend’ before I have to go back. I will be more understanding than those other American boys when you have to rush out for an attack. That is to assume that they can come here or agree. In our initial meeting, I didn’t like that weak girl act you put up. Recent events have made me realize that you are a much stronger person. (Careful Damian, that sounds like a compliment.) You are a decent partner to date.(Shit. Shit. Shit. That wasn’t a compliment, right?)”

Damian couldn’t see why Dupain-Cheng would refuse such a good deal. He supposed her feelings might be still hurt from his first impression of her. He would give her an apology when they are alone and away from his brothers who would make a big deal of it.

“Fine. At least, the curse will at least make this fake couple thing more believable.” grumbled Marinette. The light pink blush on her face is not because he said she was someone he would date.

Oh right, the curse. He swore internally, it had possessed him to be Dupain-Cheng’s boyfriend. He now would have to endure the hand-holding, kissing and staring into each other’s eyes, and try to resist the curse which will be much harder now. Somehow, he didn’t regret it a little bit. It sounds more bearable with him doing those things with her than her with Drake. This was just a mutual agreement to ward off her suitors and prove to her classmates that she was off the market.

Chloe clapped her hands,“If we have everything sorted out, you can start being a good boyfriend by walking Marinette to school today. We want to be on time now.”

The others started packing up their stuff or finished what they were eating. Marinette was dragged out of the bakery by an impatient Damian. Chloe and Alix picked up what Marinette left behind and followed out. The rest soon left right after, leaving the two boys in the bakery.

“Hey, Replacement, tell me if I am wrong but did Demon Spawn willingly ask a girl out?” Jason asked, stealing a croissant from Tim.

“Try making himself the perfect candidate to be her fake boyfriend out of many choices, including me, and get her to agree to it. Now he has to go on a few romantic dates with Marinette in order to ward off this really pushy guy in her class. Demon Spawn also has a crush on her and he’s in denial of it. We are not hallucinating either. I’ve checked.” Tim replied, sipping his coffee.

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“Damian. Let go. Hey, Wayne, are you listening to me? Let me go. This is not how you treat your significant other. And you are not even going in the right direction.” Marinette all but yelled at him.

He released his grip on her. “My apologies for manhandling you but I wanted to tell you this away from everybody else.”

“What?” She asked, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes.

I- This is a little difficult to say for me,” Damian started. (Why were his palms sweaty? It’s just an apology. He had done it before although it was mostly because Grayson told him what he did wrong and made him do it.) “But I am sorry for calling you weak, pathetic and every other bad thing I have said about you when you have shown that you are anything but those. I was mad at myself for being caught and took it out on you.”

Her glare softened.

“Apologies accepted. The school is this way.” She said with a smile and went towards the school. Damian walked by her side, his hands in his pockets.

Marinette looked at where his hands were, “If we are going to do this fake dating thing, I suggest we hold hands.”

Damian grabbed her hand and continued walking in silence. Her hands were so small and fitted perfectly in his. Oh God, it’s the curse again. Turning him into a sap. Do not think about her hands. And the fact that she took down a man twice her size with them which was an amazing sight to watch.

“Why are you so stiff? Loosen up a little. You are with the love of your life. Smile a little.”

Damian plastered on a fake smile, “Happy?”

“It looks fake. Being a model he will be able to tell.” Marinette remarked, “Are you sure you want to do this? We can still go get Tim to be my boyfriend.”

“I can do this. Drake wouldn’t be a better choice. It doesn’t help that you are relentlessly nit-picking me. Or are you that bad of a girlfriend?” Damian couldn’t help but sniped back. “Maybe that’s why Chat Noir left you.”

He found himself back against the world and her elbow at his neck. (He would forever deny that he liked it.)

“Look here, Wayne. You know nothing about me and you shouldn’t assume that you do. Chat Noir was revoked of his status as a hero for his behaviour. If you don’t act the part properly, I am going to have my former partner, who has absolutely no sense of boundaries, harassing me in my civilian life and I have already dealt enough of his advances to last a lifetime. I have given you so many chances to get out of this which you refused and yet, you are half-assing it. So are you in this 100 percent or not? Because I am at the end of my patience right now.”

“The boy who is obsessed with you is the former Chat Noir?”

“Yes, I will explain about that later but what’s your answer?”

“I will give it my best shot but I have never pretended to be in love.”

“Were you not taught in the League?”

“There were seduction tactics shown to members when they were old enough and I left them when I was 10 but I am not sure if those skills can be applied here.”(Slamming your opponent against the wall wasn’t one of them but she was doing a great job of it so far. No. No. No. He is not his father. This is different from whatever he has with Kyle.)

She released her hold on him and grabbed his hand, leading him towards her school.

“Well then, here are the basics. Everytime you look at me, just think of your favourite things to make your smile a little more genuine. Maybe call me by a pet name if you want. Keep your touch on me like you can’t keep your hands off of me and act really reluctant when you have to let go. You will only keep them my shoulders, arms, hands and waist or I will break your hand. I will do the same. If you are going to have to kiss me, give me a warning.” He looked into her blue eyes and nodded.

“Alright.”

“Oh. I almost forgot. In case they try to question our relationship. My favourite colour is red. My favourite song is ‘Fearless’ by Jagged Stone.(I love Taylor. Sue me) And we met online a few months ago. You came all the way to Paris to see me a month ago and asked me out. We will talk more that later. Oh, I also love designing and have dreams of being a famous fashion designer.-”

Marinette rambled on which Damian found a little endearing. He looked forward to knowing more about her. He added a few comments here or there about himself (because it was only fair.) and ways to improve their cover story about their relationship.

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“We are nearly at school. Let’s start the act, Romeo.” Marinette whispered at him and looked at him with a bright smile that brought a tiny smile to his face. Okay, maybe he liked Marinette a little bit but that doesn’t mean he’s in love with her.

He moved her hand holding his to the crook of his elbow.

“Is this acceptable, my lady?”

She wrinkled her nose, (Adorable. No. Don’t go there) “This is fine. But can you not call me that? And princess too? I may have erased his memories as Chat Noir but it could be a trigger to bring them back.”

“Understandable. What about Malak?”

She blushed. Marinette had learned Arabic a while back and was very fluent in the language.

“It’s okay.” She said in a soft voice. She put her other hand on his bicep and leaned on his shoulder.

“You don’t look like a touchy-feely person so is this fine?”

“Yes.”

“Cool, let me tell you more about the atrocious lies that had passed her mouth.”

They walked into the school courtyard, arm-in-arm, for the entire school, especially Marinette’s class, to see. The perfect picture of a loving couple. Marinette’s blush from earlier was evident on her face, leaving no room for doubt about her new relationship status. (Many guys, gals and pals were upset over it.) As they both walked up the stairs, whispering and laughing about who knows what (gulliable and idiotic classmates they have to suffer learning with), two pairs of green eyes followed them.

In this case, the saying ‘green-eyed monsters’ was true. One was envious of the boy who held the girl he wanted in his arms and the other was envious of the attention the couple was receiving.

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Damian escorted Marinette to her class. He gave her a kiss on her cheek and said, loud enough for the class to hear, “Bye, Malak. I will pick you up after school for our date.”

“B-bye, Damian.”

He took her hand, gave a kiss to the back of it and departed, leaving a very red-faced Marinette behind. The rest of the class parted the way as Damian walked past.

She rushed into her seat where Chloe sat beside it, grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

“Sooooo, Mari-bug, how was your date? You two rushed out of there so quickly and left your stuff behind. So eager to spend time with your boyfriend, eh? You enjoyed it very much by the looks of it.”

“Sorry about that, Chloe. Did you bring my bag and the cheese danishes?” Marinette tried to change the topic. And she also wanted to make sure a god of destruction doesn’t go hungry and angsty during school. “Yep, here you go,” Chloe said, handing Marinette her bag and a box of cheese-flavoured snacks for Plagg, “Your mom packed some for you.”

“Marinette. Where have you been the last two days? And you came back with a boy. I am honestly worried about your behaviour.” Lila played the concerned classmate wonderfully.

“Yeah, Marinette. This is a new low, even for you.” Alya added.

Marinette readied herself to tell the cover story Damian and her worked out on the way here.

“Lila, I appreciate your ‘concern’. But the last four days have been a little hard on me so excuse me if I am a little snappy today. You see, Damian disappeared and didn’t return home after school on Friday. So when he didn’t pick up for our weekly video call, I panicked and called his family and they told me what happened. They sent me a plane to get out of Paris so I can’t get akumatized.”

“Was that why you were gone on Saturday?” Chloe asked, playing along although she already knew why Marinette wasn’t in Paris the last four days.

“Yeah. Sorry for not telling you guys. It was sorta last minute. Thankfully, he wasn’t kidnapped actually. His biological mother picked him up but never told his father that she was taking him. I just came back last night. Dami followed me to make sure I am okay.”

“What a bunch of bullcrap.” Alya said, “I don’t believe you.”

Oh. The irony... “Alya, I don’t care if you do. My life is my own business. So keep your nosy nose out of it. Your opinions don’t matter to me anymore, stranger.” Marinette internally was tired of this silly routine and wanted this to end already.

Alya wanted to pick a fight with her over the smallest things she did for the past months. She wondered why her former best friend hated her this much.

“Lila told me that you were skipping school and you paid an actor to be your pretend boyfriend.”

Pretending to not hear what Alya said, Marinette turned towards Chloe, “Hey, you never told me about how you met Tim. I can’t believe that you two are friends.”

“We met at one of those charity galas-”

“Hey, we were talking to you.” Alya cut her off. To which Chloe glared at the ombre-haired girl.

“I thought our conversation was done. What else am I supposed to say?”

Marinette was frustrated and hid that fact well, showing any reaction would give the game away. If she had reacted, it would further fuel the fire of Alya’s self-righteousness, making her believe that Marinette was somehow guilty of what Lila told her about. Lila managed to turn nearly the entire class against her by appealing to their ‘hero’ side and outbursts from Marinette and the others made them more sure of themselves of being in the right. It was so deep-rooted that nothing would sway them to logical reasoning. Maybe except Phase 2. Phase 1 was made a little easier when Talia kidnapped her and made her miss a few days of school.

Phase 2 was to not acknowledge the lies or just appear uninterested. It would illustrate the point that people don’t have to listen to them if they don’t want to. If possible, sow little seeds of doubt to the ones Lila had a looser grip on. The more people they can slowly get on their side, the better.

Alya was confused, usually Marinette would throw a ‘temper tantrum’ about how she didn’t do that and Lila lied.“I-, you should-, You should apologize to Lila.”

Marinette raised an eyebrow, “For what this time?”

“For saying that she was lying.”

“Pray tell, when did in any of our conversations so far did I do that? I mean I don’t like the fact that she just accused me with little evidence of paying my someone to be my boyfriend but I am not going to fight with anyone over it. Maybe I did do that, Maybe I didn’t. Maybe there is a good reason I did those things. The thing is Lila should keep to her own business and I will keep to mine. And as should you. I know you are a reporter at heart but you should at the very least respect my privacy.”

Alya stayed silent, fuming. Everyone was looking at them now. She realized that the designer was right and if she pushed further, she would be the bad guy.

“I thought so. Now, go away. I have nothing else to say to you. Let Chloe finish her story of how she met Tim which you so rudely interrupted.”

“Who’s Tim?” Lila asked, wanting to know more about Marinette’s boyfriend to work on an angle to get him away from the ravenette.

“Mari-Bug’s boyfriend’s older brother. Now, shoo peasants, we are talking. Anyways, Mommy took me to when I was younger so I could mingle with all the other rich kids and get connections. Timothy was there and back then, he was still with the Drakes...”

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Lila and Alya returned to their seats, both were visibly upset although Lila was seething inside. When Marinette was not at school for the last two days, the Italian thought that it was the last she had seen of her. Today, she showed up with a handsome boy on her arm and by the looks of his clothes, rich too. If she manages to get ‘Damian’ to break up with that pest and date her instead, then she would have a rich, handsome boyfriend devoted to her and that brat would be so heart-broken that an akuma so powerful would be made that even Ladybug won’t be able to defeat. A two for one deal. Lila started planning (scheming) to take her boyfriend away.

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(Part 7)

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Edit: I am so sorry. I forget to add the taglist.

Tag list: @alysrose-starchild, @buginetye, @lookatthestars1, @blackroserelina, @macncheesemonster, @mochinek0, @myazael, @tonicxworld, @thewitchwhowaited, @t1dwarrior-of-earth, @kissa-chan, @iwantasecretidentity, @theymakeupfairies, @user00000003, @woe-is-me0, @kashlyn, @mochegato,@moonlightstar64 , @greatcatblaze, @moongoddesskiana, @tazanna-blythe. @tonicxworld, @toodaloo-kangaroo, @frieddonutsweets, @local-witch-of-mn, @lady-bee-fechin, @iglowinggemma28, @indecisive-mess-named-me, @k-tea-and-coffee, @jayjayspixiepop, @all-mights-asscheeks, @idk-j-go-with-it , @loysydark, @thenillabean, @lolieg, @zalladane, @silvergold-swirl, @henie04, @blueblossombliss, @khneltea, @mochegato, @itsmeevie01, @roguishredaxion, @alyssadeliv, @steph-hearthlight, @adrestar, @eliza-bich, @abrx2002, @hikari55ttva, @doglover82, @daminette5074, @moon5608,@justafanwarrior, @allis-sun, @animegirlweeb, @aespades, @corporeal-terrestrial, @mildlydeadly, @kanamexzeroyaoifangirl,

[nightswithkookmin]

Jimin is a pretty bOY

This is a continuation of our discussion on my last post. Thanks for sharing your thoughts with me, I think I agree with all of it.

Not sure how I feel about the calling eachother out bit or near scolding of others in the comments. Please let's be welcoming and respectful of others's thoughts regardless of whether or not we agree with it. It's ok to hold diverse views. We do after all come from different backgrounds and have accumulated different experiences and I think it plays out in how we see things. Everyone's opinion is valid. Plus, I purple yall.

Now, do I think he is trying to pack on muscles........? Yes. He said so himself in Festa when he said he would rush to the mirror when he thought he had gained some muscle only to find out his biceps looks like a muscled kindergartner.

He also said lately he's into exercising and staying in shape which is true because for quite sometime now since early this year he has been talking about how "weak" he is in their Vlives and have even given instances of him not being able to do certain things- certian simple and easy tasks- which is typical of him I'd say. He's always talking about how "weak" he is especially around JK and juxtaposing that with "but JK is so strong" which I'm sorry but I have to smirk at right now cos it's such a typical gay pick me simp thing to do. We've all been there.

Do I think he's trying to be a muscle bunny or revert back to his body shape around debut? Absolutely not. But I do think he is straddling the line of toxic masculinity which is what the conversation is about.

I don't think there's anything wrong with wanting to stay in shape or even enjoying work outs. Last night I ran downstairs because I had left my stew on the stove and now this morning I called renew my gym membership because I discovered running can be actually fun to do... No. No it's not. The gym instructor would have to come for me kicking and screaming.

RM have said even though JM looks skinny and fragile he is one of the strongest within the group. Besides, this is not the first time he's expressed interest in working out and building his body- hello, on Era?

I remember people complaining he looked too buffed up in that period on SNS and PJMs quickly jumping in to clear the searches for it. The choreo for On required agility and endurance and required the members- not just JM build up some definition in their muscles.

We've seen them go through all that. So it's not simply a matter of black and white staying in shape or doing it because he feels pressured to do so. Especially, when you consider that he's undertaken some pretty unhealthy measures in the past in attempts to lose weight or soften out his body post these muscle building, weight gaining periods and we've always chalked it up to his dance and how as a contemporary dancer he has to look a certain way or this or that to try to justify and make sense of it. Next you, know there are six chapters of break the silence of him talking about all the dark places he's been, the pressures to look his best for his fans or for his job and all these other painful stories he's shared with us over the years. And it's like, but why? Why do this to yourself?

I'll never forget the look he gave JK when JK was talking about wanting to build muscles in one of the interviews for the promotion of Be- I think I made a post on it. When JK noticed JMs disapproving glare he backtracked saying he would want to stay skinny after gaining all that muscles.

I mean if I'm to be honest, he was bound to crack at one point. The signs were there being surrounded by all these men who adhere to the traditional aesthetics of a masculine body- from Namjoon to Taehyung.

I wish y'all will steer the conversation in this direction and make it more about gender norms and expressions and breaking stereotypes and diversity in the body aesthetics of men.

Jimin is a man too. He just isn't what people traditionally will label masculine. Androgynous is more an apt word in my opinion. How many times have I said, I think Jungkook hetero passes because his body aesthetics is quintessentially what most associates with a masculine man?

Breaking gender barriers is not just about embracing feminine apparels- that teeters on cross dressing quite frankly and can be a bit performative and baity. Then you have to consider their culture in itself has an inherent pro gender diversity feel to it.

Now, let me explain my problem with the Klout ad campaign a little bit.

Do you see how Tae stands out? And I'm not saying this to fuel the "Tae was their fav" debacle. It's the 007 feel... I'll explain in a bit.

Most often, alcohol advertisers as well as most advertisements intended to sell to men often try to appeal to men's internalized ideals of masculinity or try to shape and define what a man or masculinity should look like. These ideals are so often toxic and detrimental to men and mostly women too.

Take a look at these ads for example. All I had to do was google search ads for men.

Real men drink milk and look at the image they present as real men. This blatantly implies if you don't look like this, if you are not a strong cliff climbing man with abs you are not a real man.

The second image is subtle. I call it the 007 slash Kingsmen-esque ideals of masculinity. It portrays men as sexy cool badass- works out but isn't too buff, filthy rich or middle class, wears Rolex, designer clothes, is kind but has a mean exterior and is every 13 year old wattpad girls's dream of a man. In fiction, you see this kind of masculinity in characters such as Edward cullens to Christian Grey. And a lot of ads for men alternate between these two ideals of masculinity.

Do you see how they modeled Taehyung in these ads after this kind of masctheme? Tae looks the same in almost all the ads. 007 sexy cool badass.

Now, I may not be a makeup beauty guru or MUA or whatever, but one thing I've picked up on especially when it comes to makeup for men- BTS and Kpop idols mostly is that, they soften out the harsh features on their faces and make them appear more androgynous or effeminate to suit the Kpop look and they ditch it entirely in different settings.

So for instance, Tae and Kookie's natural hawkish eyebrows tend to get softened around the arch and edges- don't know how the fuck they do that- but it appears less in your face intense most times when they wear make up in kpop related contents.

However, in certain other contents that lean towards a certain gender theme those features are emphasized. Not to say hawkish features are masculine features. Just saying in men, Kpop idols, my observation is they soften those features out with makeup or surgery.

Now, take a look at JM in these ads and look at everything from his posture, make up, hairstyle and brows. It's as if someone took an eraser to his androgynousity and erased his feminine side. Take a look at his photo above and compare it to the ads.

I am not a man. But I feel the gender look they went for, intended to appeal to men, tapped into a rather outdated stereotype of what man and masculinity should look like.

What is a man?

What should a man look like?

What aesthetics of masculinity is Jimin gravitating towards now? And I'm not talking clothes, I'm talking the expression of his gender. Time and again, he's talked about how looking a certain way made him uncomfortable in the past because he was constantly fighting his feminine side. He is androgynous. Sometimes he leans more into his feminine side. Other times he leans more into his masculine side but this is the only time he's leaning into his masculinity that makes me uncomfortable to watch because like I said it bothers on toxic masculinity.

He's said whoever he was, the version fighting to look masculine, that wasn't him. So forgive me if I worry whenever i see him suppressing his feminine side and acting like 'one of the boys.' Him staying in shape is not synonymous with him erasing a valid part of himself or suppressing it. He can stay in shape, celebrate his masculinity and still be FILTER.

What I'm saying is, this not a conversation about him exercising. This is a conversation about an ad erasing his feminine side and boxing him into a narrow expression of his gender and how that might be affecting his view of himself especially in the way he's been gravitating towards a certain masculine aesthetics and how that could be toxic.

Tae has said the same thing and BTS have agreed the JM as of 2019 was the real JM according to them.They said he was that way- suppressing his feminine side, because there weren't much songs and choreos that suited him and so he had had to bend himself to fit with the others.

And so when I see him leaning a certain way I tend to wonder if his exterior environment is playing a role in that. I hope you can understand that.

He is a contemporary dancer and strength and flexibility are prerequisites for his craft. The company go out of their way to incorporate contemporary dance in their choreos for JM's sake which helps solve that problem of him trying too hard to look a certain way.

May be I'm projecting. May be my little brother is effeminate and I've always recommended Jimin as a role for him to tell him not to try to look different just because other boys look different. May be I've seen him try one too many times to kill himself in the gym trying to build on muscles and getting frustrated with himself because he ends up looking like someone else. You can't gym the queerness away. Society will never let you be who you want to be so you might as well flip it the middle finger.

These boys are being shaped by their environment. I hate to say this but the environment they are in isn't exactly progressive and the longer they stay in there cut off from the outside world...

Flying out helps. Meeting different people and being exposed to different cultures and conversations on gender expression helps.

Anywho, these are just concerns I have. Will have them till I see that's not where he is headed towards. But let's not act like these ad campaigns do not and can not psychologically impact these boys especially as these advertisers are not looking to tap into their own definition of gender and masculinity but shape it and redefine it to appeal to the demographic they intend to market to.

I think this is just a grey area for me. Rather than try to change JM to look a certain way in order to sell alcohol. I think the ground breaking thing would be to have a man who looks like JM show us how someone like him would sell a can of drink. I think that would be revolutionary.

Signed,

GOLDY

[lizamango]

Finding You (Bucky Barnes x Reader) 8/?

A/N: three weeks back into uni and it is kicking my ass so here’s the next chapter loves!

Summary: You’ve been one of SHIELD’s top spies for years but what happens when the organisation you’ve put your trust in crumbles and Captain America gives you a mission to help him find his best friend? The last thing you expected to happen was to fall in love with your assignment and become best friends with a witch.

Taglist  ~ just comment if you wanna be added

@buckylokisimp​​, @white-wolf-buckaroo​​, @austynparksandpizza, @markandlexies,  @yaszx​

Word Count: 2137

Masterlist

Chapter 1 ~ Chapter 2 ~ Chapter 3 ~ Chapter 4 ~ Chapter 5 ~ Chapter 6 ~ Chapter 7 ~

Warnings: none

Chapter Summary: You take a back seat this mission while everyone returns traumatised.

Chapter 8: WHAT HAPPENED?

Steve enters the common room with Clint and Maria following closely. He passes Stark a tablet and my interest is piqued at what they’ve found.

“What’s this?” Stark asks.

“A message. Ultron killed Strucker.”

I stand from my chair to look at the image.

“And he did a Banksy at the crime scene just for us,” Stark remarks.

“What’s the point?” I wonder.

“This is a smoke screen, why send a message when you’ve just given a speech?” Natasha asks.

“He knew something… Something important enough to get him killed instead of recruited,” I add.

Nat types away on the computer which reveals that all files on Strucker have been erased.

“Just digital intel…” I say, thinking of all the printed versions hidden away as a result of Fury’s paranoia. Speaking of Fury, I’ll need to get in touch with him soon.

We collect boxes of files and sort through them. Known associates, mission reports and experiments.

“Wait, I know that guy,” Stark says. “He operates off the African Coast, black market arms.”

Steve gives a disapproving look.

“There are conventions okay? You meet people, I didn’t sell him anything,” he defends. “He was talking about something new, a game changer. It was all very Ahab.”

I look at the photo. “What’s this?” I point.

“It’s a tattoo but I don’t remember him having it.”

“Those are tattoos but this is a brand,” I say. “Dr Banner, can you scan it?”

“Oh, yep. It’s a word in an African dialect meaning ‘thief’ but in a not… so friendly way.”

“What dialect?” Steve asks.

Dr Banner looks closer. “Wakanda.”

Steve and Stark look at each other in a knowing way.

“I thought your father said he got the last of it…”

“What’s with the whispering?” I ask.

“What comes out of Wakanda?”

Steve looks at his shield as Stark replies. “The strongest metal on Earth.”

“Where is this guy now?” Steve asks.

As they locate the dealer, Clint catches my eye and he tilts his head to a quiet corner.

“I have a feeling…” he starts. “I need you to go to the safehouse.”

My eyes widen. “What? Why is everything okay?”

“For now… but I don’t think it will be,” he responds.

“You don’t want me on this mission?”

“I think we’ll need you elsewhere.”

“If this is about Maximoff…”

“It isn’t. Okay not completely. She’s been in your head. I know what that’s like –“

“It’s nothing like that, Clint. I’m fine, I’m me.”

“I know. I wouldn’t be sending you to my family if I didn’t believe that. Steve told me she never engaged you when we raided Strucker’s base. If this goes south and we need somewhere to go… I think it’s better you’re there than with us.”

I shake my head, confused. “I don’t understand what you’re saying. You think something’s gonna happen to you guys?”

“I do. And I need you to be at the safe house. If we go down, we need you to be okay. I don’t think she’d hurt you.”

“I had a five minute conversation with her –“ I argue, he’s putting way too much faith in nothing.

“She was a hostile and she had the chance to take you down along with Steve but she didn’t. That’s important. That means something.”

“Fine.”

“Get in touch with Fury too, this is bigger than us.”

“SHIELD is dead, Clint,” I raise a brow.

“I know but there were good people there that will still be willing to help. I know he had you working on the sceptre and that’s why you were at that base. They don’t call me Hawkeye for nothing.”

“No one actually calls you that, though,” I retort.

I tune back into the conversation with the rest of the Avengers as they’ve found some coordinates. “Wheels up in 30,” Steve announces.

“I’m getting called away on another mission,” I lie and I know Nat detects it.

“Right now?” Steve raises a brow. “What’s so pressing?”

I shrug. “Classified.” I see the frustration in his eyes that always appears whenever I use that word on him and almost smirk. “Take it up with my superiors.”

I leave the tower and set up my travel plans. A plane is fastest but Ultron can track finances so unless I can acquire my own jet with stealth mode that’s off the table. A train takes over a day. Looks like I’m driving.

It takes 16 hours but I finally arrive at Missouri in the 4th car I’ve borrowed as Steve Rogers would say.

I approach the front porch and see a face peak through the curtains.

“Aunt Y/N!” I hear a yell and smile as Lila bursts through the door. An excited Cooper and a pregnant, surprised Laura come out, following Lila’s yelling.

“Hi there sweetheart,” I smile as she runs up for a hug.

“What are you doing here?” Lila asks, looking up with a big smile. “Did my daddy send you?”

“He sure did.” Laura meets me and she smiles as she gives me a one armed hug and I’m careful around her baby bump.

“Why don’t we come inside?”

“Hey Coop, you a pro baseballer yet?”

“Getting there!” he grins.

The kids continue to play and draw as Laura and I go to the kitchen. She makes us tea despite my insisting so I make sandwiches instead.

“Is everything okay because Clint wouldn’t send anybody if it was? And he wouldn’t send you…”

“It’s fine, Laura. For now. He just said he had a feeling something would happen on this… mission. He wanted to be safe.”

“I’ve been living this life a long time, Y/N… this isn’t a just in case, this is something bigger.”

“It’s fine, don’t stress yourself out. It’s not good for anyone.” I sip my tea and look up at her sincerely. “I’m not here for your protection… I’m here for theirs. For the… after.”

“We’re not in danger?” Laura clarifies.

“No. Fury kept his word; your family isn’t on any files – digital or on paper.” The tv in the kitchen catches my eye as it switches to breaking news of destruction in South Africa.

Laura follows my gaze. “Is that them?”

“I think so.” It’s easy to recognize the Hulk’s handiwork when it’s buildings being destroyed. “It must’ve been some fight.”

“This is what Clint was worried about,” Laura comments as newscasters look for people to blame.

“We should all get some sleep…” I suggest. “They’re probably on their way.”

Laura nods. “I’ll set up the guest bedroom for you.”

“Absolutely not. I’ll do it. You rest, pregnant lady.”

She laughs as she goes to put the kids to bed. “Spare clothes are in the closet!”

I set up the room and get ready for bed and send a message to Fury through my communicator knowing he’ll get here before the Avengers.

It’s not a restful night as my thoughts are filled with the chaos and destruction shown on the news and the fear that I’ll never find Steve’s best friend. I stare up at the ceiling of this nice… peaceful farmhouse. A house with a porch, white picket fences and, most importantly, a family. When I was an agent I never thought to think of such a thing but now that my world is different, I suppose so am I. Taking a deep breath I allow sleep to take me to a place of dreams, not darkness.

“Breakfast!” Cooper announces, waking me from dreams of blue eyes and charming smiles. I get up and brush my teeth.

“You did not need to make breakfast,” I grumble, sleep still making my eyes feel heavy.

“You’ve had a long week. Plus, I have kids. I kinda need to make breakfast,” she retorts.

I roll my eyes playfully. “I meant I could have made breakfast.”

“Oh just eat will you?” she gestures to the plate prepared in front of an empty chair.

“Thanks mom,” I reply, sitting down and making a start at devouring the homecooked meal. “Fury will be here soon,” I tell her. “He’ll probably want to talk to Stark,”

Laura nods.

“How did you sleep?” I ask.

“Alright. I know they’re okay, you know? When you find your person, you know when they’re okay and when they’re…” she gulps at the thought. “when they’re not.”

“And they’re okay?”

Laura nods. “They’re okay.”

“Honey? I’m home,” Clint calls. He enters through the living room, an arm supporting Nat and the Avengers following behind them.

I sigh in relief, hugging Nat as the husband and wife reunite. “What happened?”

“Maximoffs.” I look Natasha in the eyes and she looks shattered. “Later,” she says as she senses I’m about to ask for more.

I look up at Steve who looks sad and give him a hug too. She really did a number on them, I think as I see not just the superficial wounds but also the trauma in their eyes.

“Gentlemen, this is Laura,” Clint introduces who looks less war-torn than the others which may be on account of seeing his wife and family safe.

“I know all of your names,” Laura smiles.

“Incoming,” Clint says before his kids run up to greet him.

“These are… smaller agents,” Stark comments, trying to make sense of everything.

“Did you bring Auntie Nat?” Lila asks.

“Why don’t you hug her and find out?” she says walking towards Lila and picking her up causing a fit of giggles.

“This was your mission?” Steve asks.

I shrug. “It was classified.”

He rolls his eyes and I laugh. “Sorry for barging in on you,” Steve says politely.

“Yeah we would’ve called ahead but we were too busy not knowing you existed,” Stark says sarcastically.

Clint explains their situation and Dr Banner’s shakiness catches my eye. “Do you want some tea, Dr Banner? Laura has chamomile, that’s supposed to be calming?” I offer and prepare to be lashed out at for offering tea to solve the deep psychological issues he’s going through at the moment. But instead, he smiles and nods. The toaster releases the toast and Thor walks out with Steve following him. I pour tea for everyone in case they want some and serve it up.

Natasha approaches Banner so I give them some privacy and found Steve on the porch swing.

“Chamomile tea, Captain?” I offer.

He looks up and smiles at me. “Thank you.” I sit next to him in silence, waiting for him to be ready to talk instead of forcing him to.

“The first time I met Clint’s family wasn’t like this. He was on a mission in Budapest and it was dangerous for Laura. They had just started dating so he was worried about her… I was a Level 4 agent at the time but he trusted me. Maybe because I’m a SHIELD legacy or because I was just that good… he sent me in to make sure she was safe. Then after that he came back and instead of crossing off his mark like he was ordered to… he brought Agent Romanoff back with him. She was different back then. She never smiled, kept to herself… she would look at you like she wanted to kill you.” Steve stays quiet as he listens. “No other agent would risk sparring with the Black Widow.”

“But you would,” Steve smirks knowingly.

“It was a chance to learn, right?” I shrug. “She knocked me on my ass every time but this one time it ended as a tie. She offered truce first though so technically I won. She said I reminded her of someone…”

“Who?”

“She wouldn’t tell me but after that she was… Natasha,” I smile softly.

“I went into it thinking of them as kids,” Steve starts. “I said they could walk away from all this. And then we saw what they were capable of.”

“Nat was capable of –“

“Wanda Maximoff caused the destruction in Johannesburg. She made Dr Banner turn into the Hulk, messed with his head made him see something and he wreaked havoc on the city. She took us down one by one and didn’t even touch us.”

I look up at him and his face is serious but his eyes are sad. “What did you see?” he looks at me with a frown. “You said Banner saw something so that means you did too.”

“She sent me back to the war,” he says quietly. “I saw Peggy.”

“The life you want to get back to?” I ask.

“I don’t know. It doesn’t matter anyway because I can’t. I thought I could move on from it – I thought I had. Until I saw it all again.”

I place a hand on his shoulder. “Just because she was your first love… doesn’t mean she has to be your last.”

💖

This was a bad chapter I’m sorryyyy 😣

Add yourself to my taglist!

Chapter 9

[popculturebuffet]

Watchmen Reviewed Issue by Issue Part 1: “At Midnight, All The Agents” (Patreon Review for WeirdKev27)

Hello all you happy people! I’m Jake, I review comics and animation, and as you can tell I have a new project.. and this one’s a bit nervewracking. Watchmen is one of THE Comic Books. When people think about the medium, this is one of the things that comes to mind. It’s so integral to comics, how they evolved for better and for worse, and so iconic that the idea of tackling it it’s a lot, especially since SO MANY people have analyized it before me. So many people have poured through this iconic work. What could I add?

And i’ve realized the answer is “i don’t know, but it can’t hurt to try���. I’ve read no analysis’ on the comic, no think pieces, i’m going into this purely with my own opinon and it if overlaps, it overlaps. If I miss something, I miss it and with this much detail and craft I likely will. I’m going to give this series my best analysis, make silly jokes all the while and see how it all turns out. 

So with that an introduction for that one person in the back who hasn’t at least heard of Watchmen: Watchmen is a 1986 DC Comics Maxisereis from legendary bitter hermit and actual wizard Alan Moore and the should be also legendary but isn’t often David Gibbons. 

Watchmen came about as Alan Moore’s star had risen to it’s absolute top: he’d made his name reinventing second tier Captain Marvel (Aka Shazam) knockoff Marvelman (Redubbed miracleman in the states because marvel didn’t own him.. yet), via a horrifying deeply introspective run that heavily deconsturcted comics. This lead to DC giving him a shot, giving him their low selling and low rent book Swamp Thing in hopes he could work the same magic. He did and having read about half that run, it’s a true work of art that still holds up. 

 So with a bonafied rep for taking characters and making them bonafied stars and with DC having just bought Charlton comics, which had a massive line of superheroes to play with, Moore was the obvious choice to reinvent them and teaming up with Gibbons (Who as he realted in a story ironically found his career thanks to a poster Moore Made for a small sci fi novel company that lead to Gibbons getting an ad job for them and then getting scounted as a comics).

The problem was while the story they turned in was great it was also unusable for it’s intended purpose. This story would leave a few of these characters dead and those left wouldn’t really work in a wider universe. The editors wisely didn’t just throw things out entirely though: they knew what they had and simply had Moore and Gibbons rework it into an original tale. So they tweaked a few things and truly got into the meat of it , creating an alternate history so they could comment on just how terrifying Regan Era America was without pissing off people who loved the right wing bastard right away. The results speak for themselves: Watchmen is all time iconic. 

That said before we can get into this first issue and see why there’s one last thing to address I don’t want to leave for later.  Moore and Gibbons got screwed over terribly with this series. And I don’t mean in terms of things like promotion or what not: the book was heavily promoted as far as I can tell and while a sleeper hit caught on enough to truly change comics, for better and for worse. But when Moore you know wanted to OWN something he’d clearly created... DC Refused. It’s not a new story, creators being mad they don’t own their creations but here i’ts especailly galling given DC has pumped out a movie (Which we’ll get to at the end of this yearlong look at the story), two sequels (which I might get to at some point but probably not RIGHT after this. We’ll see), and tons of merch.  How DC screwed him out of this is incredibly obnoxious and one of their worse acts and I feel you really CAN’T takl about the series without this. It helped lead to Image which while that started.. messily to say the least, it’s bloomed into tons of indies that allow the creators to take their work if the contracts up and creators to get WAY more rightful residuals. So while things overall have changed.. it’s still shitty how Moore’s treated. I may not always agree with the old curmudgeon.. but I do get why he REALLY cannot stand DC. Same with Gibbons who has done more work with them again but isn’t exactly fond of them either. 

But enough elephants in the room, enough prep, the clock has hit midnight, a window has been broken, a man is dead... and the agents are all stirring under the cut. Content Warning: Gonna be a lot of these over this series but content warnings for talk of Rape and Suicide. Discretion is advised. 

We open with a great shot, which pans directly in from the cover, as do they all. The covers are all fantastic by the way, I just choose to go with the titles for each story as it’s a bit more distinct and helps my reviews stand out. 

Our first page is beautiful, with Gibbons art truly being striking, using an iconic 9 panel layout that many comics would ape after this, just enough for the action but enough to fit everything in. It’s gorgeous work. 

What’s less gorgeous is the dialouge coming from Rorschach's war journal. Rorshach is a costumed vigilante in this setting.. and is to me THE prototype for the 90′s style anti-hero. He kills, he’s heavily flawed, he’s deranged, and he constantly calls out other heroes for not doing enough. Rorschach is one of the primary inspirations for 90′s love of assholes who kill and monologue constantly, along with The Dark Knight Returns of course. 

The thing is though... the edgelords who kept making characters like this.. entirely missed the POINT of Rorschach. All they saw is that he looks cool (Which fair play, Gibbons design for him is iconic for a reason and one of the best superhero designs period), and does some really cool things. But from page one.. Rorschach is a terrible person who rambles about how bad society is, judges other and is about as far right as you can get. 

These are the thoughts of a man who needs serious psychatric help. He even does get a therapist later.. i’ts just a shame it’s a guy hoping to write a book and who Rorschach slowly destroys instead of anyone actually capable. 

This came as a shock because I hadn’t re-read watchmen in decades, so young me likely didn’t focus on just how far right this guy is. And i’m not against the character for being on the right. There’s been plenty of good rightwing characters and there are a handful of real life right wingers who AREN’T horrible monsters who rail against masks and vaccines while the world burns around them. I’m against him because his views are extreme, he looks down on other people as a judgmental asshole. Again one of his first, and most iconic lines is “All the whores and the policticans will lookup and shout “Save Us!” and i’ll whisper back... “No”.”. While he drives the plot and IS trying to solve a genine crime that dosen’t make him a good person. Putting on Spandex dosne’t make you a hero, it’s what you do in it, what you do as a person that counts, which is a big part of this story: just because you WANT to make a better world dosen’t mean your capable of it or that the world will LET you improve it. It’s one of those works that takes superheroes and slaps them in the face with reality, but does so in a way that dosen’t condem most of THEM (There are some really bad ones like Rorshach and Comedian) but shows society wouldn’t let that kind of idealisim and heroisim change it for the better. 

Point is Rorschach is not a good person, nor someone to idolize. Cosplay as yes, his costume again is straight fire, but he as a person sucks. 

Okay so moving on. We pan up, yes Dave Gibbons pulled off a freaking camera pan in a comic my god this art is amazing, to two detectives investigating the murder of Edward Blake, a goverment agent and costumed hero known as the Comedian, as they posulate HOW he could’ve died and we see it in flashback, though minus who actually did it. This is a murder mystery after all. I might spoil that mystery when the time is right, just as a heads up, but it is a well crafted one. It also gives us some needed exposition on the World of Watchmen.  In 1977, 8 years before this story, the Keene Act was passed which banned all costumed heroes, with only two staying active as sanctoined goverment agents.  If this sounds familiar both the Incredibles and Civil War (both the godawful comic and awesome movie adaptation) took this idea and ran with it. 

Thus only three heroes were left active: Blake, Doctor Manhattan who we’ll meet.. and Rorschach who didn’t quit when the act was passed, the one likeable thing he’s done all comic. So Shacky breaks into the crime scene and finds Comedian’s costume and it.. certainly is a choice

Like i’m all for BDSM, truly, and I get it was intetinonally supposed to be like this.. but why? Ed isn’t into BDSM, that i’m aware of the comic may correct me on this, and as a black ops mask it’s no less conspcious. He didn’t even change the res tof the outfit. He just changed from a domino mask to something out of Dennis Renold’s Tool Chest. And that’s not even getting into the fact that, as we’ll learn, Blake is a bastard so there’s a LOT of disturbing implications from him choosing to wear a fetish mask. And also the implicatoin that Moore and Gibbons do not know how BDSM works. But given this was the 80′s and the internet didn’t exist yet, they at least have more excuse than 80% of media. 

So we next cut to my faviorite of our main cast, Dan, aka Nite Owl II, whose having his weekly chat with Hollis Mason, the first Nite Owl. Like Rorshach was based off the Question, a crime solver with a near identical outfit just no face instead of bloch face, Nite Owl is based off my boy Ted Kord, the endearingly dorky second blue beetle. Though I feel Ted being an endearing dork with weight issues is ironically BASED on Dan whose BASED on him. It makes my head spin just thinking about it. Dan and Hollis relationship is really sweet too, with Hollis gladly regalling his replacement with how he ran into an old foe at the supermarket. Turns out hes a great guy, they have a lot in common. Gonna get brunch saturday. So the two head off. 

Dan heads home to his apartment and finds Rorshach eating a can of beans Dan had in a suprisingly iconic shot. The two used to be team up buddies, kind of like spider-man and daredevil if daredevil went off his meds. He throws Dan the iconic button from the opening, seriously that shot of the smiley with blood my god, and says i’ts “human bean juice” before having a laugh”

Anyways Dan takes Inky Boy down to his old HQ to talk things over, and Inky shuts down Dan’s attempts to right this off as a burglary or political killing: Blake was too good for a common burglar to get him, even at his current age and made far too many enmies. Shack Attack suggests Hollis because he has no tact, since Hollis wrote some things about Blake in his book.. things we’ll get to.  We’ll also actually get to see some of the book but more on that later. 

We do get a REALLY good scene with the two though where for once, Shake Shack makes a good point. 

Dan is geninely rattled by this. This also sets up the format for the rest of this issue: Rickity Shack visiting people to invetigate them for the murder case.  It’s a clever way to get everyone on the board and feed us small bits about them, things that will be filled in later as the story goes on. 

So Your Gonna Hear Him Roar(Schah) decides to go to a dive bar and randomly intergoate people. The bartender is udnerstandably afraid of him as Inky has MURDERED people before.. and his response to some guy wh dosen’t know him laughing.. is to break the guys fucking fingers to get info no one has any clue of. Great detective work top notch.

So after that scene that.. sure did happen.. we get our next interview, Ozymandis, the world smartest man who retired before the writing was on the wall and became a mega mogul and liseecned himself to all shit, which Rorshach takes issue with because of course he does. Which I also find hilarious given how most conservatives love selling out, aint that right bottle of alex jones supliments that flies into my window to haunt me every night before I go to sleep? Veidt is shown in a positive light though, showing that he retired for his own reasons, is seemingly conflicted over it like everyone else, and points out blake was “pratically a nazi”. We also get another humanizing moment from Shack Diesel as he admits he didn’t suspect Veidt yet but as a likely next target if this is a superhero killing spree, he wanted him to be ready. 

So we get out final interview and it’s a two fer as I”m Regretting this Running Gag And Probably WOn’t Do It Again Next Month breaks in to talk to two more heroes: Dr. Manhattan, the cold detached only other superhero and his girlfriend Laurie, the former silk spectre II, picking up after her mom. Also just so we can get this out of the way yes, Dr. Manhattan is extra super duper naked and yes we do see his penis on OCCASION, though Gibbons takes pains not to show it too often. He has a big blue penis that probably glows too. 

The conversatoin between the two is so far ahead of it’s time I see it in the corner of my eye as I type. Laurie isn’t remotely sad about Blake’s death as Blake attempted to rape her mother and actually did choke her. And Inky’s response to this.. is to call them allegations and call an ATTEMPTED RAPE a “Moral lapse”. This causes Dr. Manhattan to casually teleport Rorshach away because he upset his girlfriend. It’s a nice subtle display of just HOW powerful and detached this guy is: with just a THOUGHT Rorshach is outside and unlike everyone else he never intergoated manhattan or laid into him like everyone else. We’ll get more on smurf dick later. Laurie is still a bit rattled and feeling cooped up decides to call up Dan for a friendly reunion dinner. 

So after another page of deranged man ranting, and a nice show that Nixon is still in office, another nod for things to come, we catch said dinner as it’s ending, with the two old friends reuniting with tons of chemistry, a nice contrast to how detached Laurie’s relationship with her blue beau feels. IT’s just small storytelling things like that that tell you you have a great one. The two reminsice over an old villian who was into being beat up.. who naturally met rorshach and thus his death as they didn’t have a safe word. We also get more of Laurie’s character: While Dan clearly misses the life.. Laurie seems not to because her mom shoved her into it.... yet part of her clearly does miss it. It’s more complicated than being forced into a roll she never wanted and as the two muse on the comedians death.. things will only complicated further

Under The Hood:

Yeah for those not familiar with Watchmen, every issue has a suplementary written bit. As a teen I stupidly sped through these as I was and still am an impatient bastard. That was a huge mistake as a LOT of the work’s worldbuilding and a lot of good stuff are in these, a mistake I thankfully won’t be making again. Oddly adding prose bits to comics never truly caught on, and only might NOW thanks to the Krakoa era of x-men which has added little info page bits that really splash things up or get otu exposition well

So for this issue it’s chapters of Hollis’ Book, Under the Hood. The first is simply to settle people into the book, relating a story about how the boss at the garage his dad used to work at used to really love tacky sexual novelty gags... which lead to a truly tragic moment when the guy gets a call his wife left him for his head mechanic and emptied their accounts and has been cheating on hi mfor two years. He comes out to announce this.. while wearing fake boobs which leads to resounding laughter as no one knows how to react.. and possibly to the poor man’s suicide that night. The reason for this grim tale is that Hollis wanted to open with what he considered the saddest thing he could think of. And that he felt more rediculous dressing up as an owl.

The second is more plot based, going into Hollis’ grandpa an absuvie racist old asshole who his dad hated, but who was sweet to Hollis. and while Hollis acknowledged the guy was a bastard he gave him an ingrained sense of justice which lead to Hollis joining the police.. but it didn’t feel like enough. Cue the dawn of superhero comics with Superman, and Hollis sneaking copies from kids while on the beat (to avoid being demoted for reading a childrens magazine. yes the stigma against superhero comics existed even in the 30′s.). He fantasied a bit about a simplier world as a costumed hero but wrote it off as just fantasies.. till he read a paper article about the first costumed hero, hooded justice, a man in a black hood with a noose around his neck... nad decided to be the second. 

So overall an excellent first issue. I don’t be doing my usual final thoughts as watchmen, while released issue by issue really is one massive story, so I feel judging each instalment may not work. I could change my mind as this project is going to span a year, one issue a month. Still it was an incredibly strong start in both stories and I look forward to next month. I don’t remember when everything happens, so I look forward to revisiting it and if this issue is any indication it’s every bit as good as it’s rep. See you real soon.

If you loved this review, follow for more, reblog it to help get the word out and if you want to help me make more reviews like this consider joining my patreon.  This retrospective is entirely thanks to one of my Patrons, Kev, and you too can have me look at whatever comic you want issue by issue if you sign up. 5 buck patrons get a review of a single comic issue or tv episode or special a month, so ther’es no better time to sign up! You can also talk to me personally on my discord server and twitter, links to all bellow. Good day to you. 

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[drzootsuit]

Hi, I saw ur comment on the AI post while combing thru the notes. I’ve been seeing a lot of gorgeous architectural images come up in my feed and I’m discovering a lot of it is done with AI. I remain on the fence abt whether it’s cool or not, or whether to use it, bc im uneducated on what the ramifications could be. Do u think if we didn’t live in a capitalistic shitworld where artists didn’t have sell their creativity and their labor to live, that AI would still hinder or push out human creative expression? Is it’s shittiness inherent or is it just bad under these circumstances?

This is actually a really good question, and a very worthwhile chain of thought. While I endeavor to be thoughtful it's all too easy for my frothy-self to descend to loom smashing, so this is an angle worth considering. My opinion on things is heavily colored by my upbringing. It may sound pretentious, but for various reasons, I consider 'artist' as one of my cultural designations. For those who have taken sociology 101, I consider it one of my inherent status' rather than an ascribed status. Call it what you want, but for me, it's in my bones.

My problems with AI artwork are slightly hysterical at points as a result, but let's start with the most sensible note that you bring forth; the fact that we are within the system we are.

Our current form of capitalism is based around an eternal cancerous expansion of profit, and if one follows certain industries, (in my case, the games industry) one can easily see the problems with always trying to grow bigger in a finite world. Companies firing whole development teams right before shipping so that they don't have to pay them for actually completing the project, and other such acts of corporate autocannibalism are the signs of an animal that is nearing the cliff edge and begun choosing which of its own internal organs it can claw out in order to make itself lighter.

Art has always been at war with money. Making art requires money, but the people that control money tend not to understand art. This is obviously a gross tribalistic simplification, but the point is that the two need each other, can achieve great things in concert... and absolutely hate each other.

In a perfect money world, art and artists would be eliminated entirely. I speak with proof behind this: look at the NFT bubble from earlier this year. This was an attempt to boil artwork down to a stock price. Numbers to be traded and nothing more. The art attached to NFT's was crude, designed as such to carry the message of "the artwork doesn't matter. Only the money that makes it up."

So. When we look at AI, it becomes clear: a machine that can spit out art perfectly to order with no involvement from those annoying artists who demand respect, freedom, and worst of all, pay? This is a wet dream for the money. Under the current system of corporate function, AI art is one of the single most dangerous tools yet created. It stands against artwork, it stands against labor and negotiation in all forms, and it stands against the idea that art is worth anything more than cash.

But that wasn't your question. Do I, personally, consider AI art valuable if viewed without the context of the war of art vs money?

Me personally? No. This is where I will appeal to emotion so hard it will make anyone versed in debate weep enough to fill an overly-salty swimming pool.

In my view of things, Art is the result of every stimulus we recieve. Everything. Every single thing any of our senses receives goes into a huge bubbling rendering vat, and then we use that bubbling material to sculpt new works to portray our experiences and view of the world.

As such, I don't think it's worth using AI art as a jumping off point. Yes, it can provide some gummy material that can kickstart creative impulses, but to anyone that strapped for ideas, I would beg that they instead experience more things.

Hideo Kojima has spoken about his philosophy that an artist must always be adding new things to their rendering vat of experience, and I agree with him. no matter who you are, you haven't seen everything. Even within the purviews you obsess over. I love video games dearly, and even I have not played every single one. There will always be something new within the things you love, wether those things are sci-fi novels or urban architecture or tax filing systems. There is always something new to learn and see, and the pursuit of knowledge, of fresh experiences, of new people and new conversations about new topics, will, if you are an artist, spark something within you. And I think that shows what I think is another danger that AI art poses to artists: complacency.

Life begins at the end of our comfort zone. Artists must by nature be curious about the world and her people if they are to dream up stories within and without her boundaries. If an artist is able to punch in familiar keywords and receive a computer-made blob of associated goo made from stolen, unaccredited, scraped work, that artist has robbed themselves of the chance to examine themselves and the world around them.

Also, that's really the big issue. This shit comes from somewhere. The AI needs to be fed existing images in order to know what an image looks like, and there is no possible way for that to be done in a way that does not denigrate the work or the artists who make it. Even if that work is a cell-phone photo of a stack of pancakes, it is wrong for the machine to silently harvest it, and due to the other issues, I struggle to find any arrangement I am happy with even with consent and transparency.

So overall, while I think the technology is very impressive, and I can't blame people for getting excited about it, within my worldview, I am forced to be a curmudgeon. My view of art, the world, and humanity requires that I thank the programmers for their work, shake their hands on their success, marvel at the power of the technology, and then push the server cabinet off the edge of the building. It is a danger to human identity and the development of such.

Loom-smashers ahoy.

Thank you for your question! I absolutely love writing essays about things I'm impassioned about, and this was a blast.

[the-infamous-coat-of-baron-zemo]

Missed Opportunities - Helmut Zemo x Reader | Chapter 2

Here it is! I'm managed to whip up another part to this story. I hope you all enjoy this next bit!

If you missed out on Part 1, it's here.

Word Count: 2300 and some change

-----

Side Note: Obviously, I have taken some liberties with the plot and timeline of TFATWS. So this will be loosely based on the timings of what has happened, but will not be a chronological order of events occurred.

Much love to you, and thank you for the inspiration! And yes, there will be a Part 3 because this was more of a set-up chapter. So hopefully you won't be too disappointed with this one.

~Sandra~

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

As things turned out, your conversation with Bucky and Sam went surprisingly well. Once you were finally able to say your own piece and explain the entire story, a lightbulb seemed to have gone off within both of them.

Sam, of course, was the most understanding, realizing that the reaction Zemo had was surely due to the intense trauma of what happened. He went on to explain; he had seen those types of emotional outbursts between complete strangers who had similar experiences when The Blip happened. They would come into support groups to tell their own stories, once upon a time when the world began trying to make sense of what happened.

He said it was normal. And Sam was right, he's always right. It was a perfectly logical explanation, and those are the things you look for and stood by.

Except, this.

Nothing about Zemo's reaction felt normal. The connection upon seeing him again twisted up your insides and set your nerve endings on fire. None of your previous interactions ever gave you pause like this. No, this was different. Seeing the raw emotion on his face. The intensity of how closely he wrapped you into his body, as if he were trying to consume your entire being. You were held so closely to him, you could felt the beat of his heart, hear the raggedness of his breath, and sense the tremors beneath his fingertips.

Clearly what happened had changed you both. It would be hard not to given the enormity of the event. Again, you tried to think back to your time visiting him over the past couple of years in prison. Was there always a connection between you? Simmering beneath the surface? And The Blip was simply the catalyst to uncovering something hidden? You scoffed. Now you were just entertaining nonsense. Yes, it was emotional, but this was Zemo we're talking about. There's always a reasoning behind his actions, and they're usually executed in ways that only benefit him.

And just like that, logic and sanity had finally returned to you, like a cold bucket of ice water dowsing you over the head.

You remember looking to Bucky after Sam had finished his explanation and acceptance of everything that had transpired. You had sagged in relief noticing he had taken the information in stride and was no long on the defensive. However, in the following days after, you would always catch him now and again eyeing Zemo with some sort of suspicion. You figured with how manipulative the slightly unhinged genius could be, James was simply keeping a watchful eye on him. And why should he? We all should. Zemo was not to be trusted, and yet - deep down, you felt as if you were lying to yourself. That when push came to shove, you could trust him.

And that scared you.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

All of you were gathered around the kitchen island discussing tactics on where to locate Karli. Bucky had pitched we should be looking in isolated and abandoned areas, but Sam had different feelings on the subject. He felt they should be looking in more highly populated areas, as he believed they would want to try and blend in with the community like normal citizens.

So of course they start bickering, again.

You wanted to roll your eyes at them in utter exasperation, but held back. Instead you settle for a face palm as you continue to map out possible routes Karli and the Flag-Smasher may travel to stay accessible, but not completely visible to the public eye.

As you were zooming into a particular area that looked promising, you felt the brush of someone's hand against yours to the right of where you were sitting.

It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out who it was. Sam and Bucky were still debating who's idea would bring around to most promising results in the short amount of time we had before Karli decided to strike again.

You peered up at Zemo thinking he was hovering to catch a glimpse of what you were working on, but instead you were surprised to see he had simply poured you a cup of tea and set it next to you.

The brush of the hand was deliberate though. This you knew for a fact. Over the past few days since your little reunion, you noticed Zemo had been silently giving you brief bouts of physical contact. Nothing overtly sexual in nature. In fact, they were quite light and fleeting. Sometimes, it was a brush of his hand against yours, a soft touch at your lower back or the slide of his fingers against a hip as he walked past you.

You weren't quite sure what to make of the actions. They certainly didn't disrupt you, but your body always took immediate notice when he did it.

The chair you were sitting in had swiveled when you went to look at Zemo. You had planned on quietly thanking him, but he had already moved to the opposite side of the island to observe the land markings Sam had drawn up on a paper map.

You gently picked up the tea cup and brought it to your lips. The warmth of the tea emanating from the cup was a balm for your hands. Before taking a sip, you closed your eyes and inhaled the scent of the tea. Ah. Cherry blossom. Apparently, a favorite of his according to James.

When you opened your eyes, Zemo was now watching you. You tilted your head to the side and smiled graciously at him, mouthing a 'Thank you' in reply to his kind gesture.

The corner of his lip twitched up in response to your thanks, nodding back at you. He held his gaze as you took a sip of the tea.

Your eyebrows shot up as you swallowed the tea. It was quite delicious. You pointed to the cup and nodded your head up and down in quick succession to show your appreciation.

You could tell Zemo was holding in a chuckle, but refrained from expressing himself fully. You had narrowed your eyes, and thought about calling him out on it, but ultimately decided against it. Instead you motion your head to Sam and Bucky acknowledging their ridiculousness. Zemo just dismissed them with a, 'What did you expect?' type of look.

Finally you had enough of the two knuckle-heads on the other side of the kitchen and decided to intervene on their behalf otherwise they would never accomplish anything today.

"You guys planning on coming to a conclusion any time soon, or should I start selling tickets to this show?"

James stopped his rant and turned to you, "He started it," pointing his finger at Sam. "Sam just doesn't want to admit that my prospective places have added value that his don't."

"Now wait, that's not entirely true Bucky. I just think -," Sam started in again, but you had cut him off before he could finish.

"For the love of - how old are you two? It amazes me Steve got as much done as he did with you two around," you shook your head in feigned disbelief.

You might have felt bad about your slight outburst, but it was absolutely worth it to witness the sheepish expressions on both Sam and Bucky's faces. You wished you had snapped a picture. Definitely would have made it your new lock screen on your phone.

"If it's okay, I'd actually like to offer a third option," you said, motioning them over with a flourish wave of your hands.

As Sam and Bucky moved over to you, you shifted your eyeline to Zemo, "You too Zemo. Let's get your opinion on this as well since you are a resident to the area and more familiar with its surroundings than we are."

Zemo rose from his place and came to rest at your side, hovering, but not in a suffocating manner.

Even though Zemo had kept a reasonable amount of distance between you, Bucky seemed to show some displeasure as you saw him scoot him a bit out of the way as he tried to put some distance between the two of you.

You bit back a comment in favor of going over what you had discovered and turned to Sam, "I know we want to locate Karli as quickly as possible, but there are too many variables to account for when scouting buildings that they could be hiding out in. I propose we search in hidden pathways that could quickly get the Flag-Smashers in and out of different parts of the city without being readily detected."

"Alright, that does make sense, so what are you suggesting?" Sam tilted his head in agreement before gesturing for you to continue.

"Take a look at this map," you swipe your hand up the computer screen to show a holographic image of an underground rail system.

"Those look like the old track lines from a railway project that was never completed. If I remember correctly, the government abandoned the project when they ran out of money. Most of the tunnels were built, but never quite finished," Zemo interjected.

"Exactly," you turned to him beaming.

You moved your hands animatedly as you were excited by this prospect, "These tunnels travel throughout the entire city. Karli and the rest of the Flag-Smashers can easily maneuver where they need to with these routes. If I were to put money on it, I'd bet you could find their insignias left on the walls of the tunnels below as a potential guide that could -"

"That could lead us straight to their hideout," Zemo finished, smiling with what could be described as something akin to pride, clearly impressed with the astute observation you made.

"I see where you're going with this. You know, you might be onto something. Especially with our truncated time table," Sam chimed in. "Bucky? What do you think?"

You turned your chair around so you could face the three of them fully.

"Yeah, I agree. I think there's a legitimate chance we could find some clues at the very least," Bucky replied, leaning in over your left shoulder to get a closer look at the image.

Memorizing it most likely.

"If I may suggest, here?" Zemo said, pointing to a location not far from them.

You saw Sam and Bucky turn to each and nod in agreement of the starting point.

"That's good. It's also close to one of the last places we spotted Karli, so it makes sense to check it out first before branching off somewhere deeper," Sam assented.

You turn back around and start typing on the keyboard. A few moments later a ping erupted from everyone's phone.

"I sent the map to all of us, so we each have a copy," you stated.

You closed the laptop and hopped off the chair you had been sitting in, packing your stuff up into your backpack off to the side.

"Whoa. Whoa. What are you doing?" Bucky said, placing his vibranium arm on your shoulder to pause your movements.

"Getting ready to go?" you questioned slowly, as if your actions weren't obvious.

"You're not coming with us," James stated sternly.

You turned to look at Sam.

"Listen, Bucky's right," Sam answered. You saw him hold his hands up in the air and shrug before placing a hand on your shoulder before continuing, "I know, it's a shocker, having Buck and I agree on something - but when it comes to your safety, we both feel the same."

You chewed on your inner cheek, knowing this was going to most likely be a losing battle. You pursed your lips, closed your eyes slowly, and sighed before lolling your head to the side in defeat.

Sam grinned knowing he won and dropped his hand from your shoulder, as he left the kitchen to go get his gear.

Bucky came up from behind you and gave you a quick hug and kiss on the head.

"Thank you," James murmured before moving to the door.

"You can't fault them for caring," Zemo said, voice carrying softly through the air.

You pivoted around to where Zemo was, watching him adjust his holsters and making a move for his coat.

"I know," you begrudgingly admit.

Zemo put on his coat and walked over to stand in front of you.

"It may not be completely dangerous, but there's always a chance, and it's not one your friends are willing to take with you," Zemo stated.

You drop your head slightly to stare at the floor. He was right. Sam and Bucky just wanted to look out for you, but that doesn't mean you couldn't be helpful down there. You do know some self defense. You spent 10 years around Steve and various Avengers over time, it's not like you weren't going to pick anything up.

"Zemo let's go," Sam said briskly, as he walked past them to meet Bucky at the front door.

You lifted your head up and saw Zemo give a curt nod to Sam before focusing his attention back on you.

Zemo started to walk by you, but paused to lean into, grabbing your wrist to gently rub his thumb over your pulse point and whisper, "And neither am I."

With that, he abruptly walked off to join Sam and James.

Your wrist was tingling with sensation even after Zemo had left your side.

Before they all left, you managed lean over the island to strangle out, "Please play nice with each other and come back in one piece!"

You could hear the huffs of laughter as they left and the door clicked shut behind them.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

[fangroyal]

#3 What is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need? (consider this permission to write it and/or share it anyway)

Fun Meta Asks for Writers

Adding the link to the ask game at the start this time, 'cause this is gonna be a long one, y'all. 😂

Where do I even begin? First of all, @angie-leena​, thank you so SO much for sending me this ask! It was the kick in the ass I needed to get me to actually write this scene, and for that I’m extremely grateful. I still don’t know if I’m entirely happy with the finished product, but it exists now, and that’s something.

So some of you may remember (if anyone actually follows my ramblings, haha!) that I’ve been simultaneously complaining about and obsessing over this gigantic WIP I’ve had since fucking March 2019. Nearly two and a half years have passed since I put the first word to paper, and oh how I’ve loved to cry out in frustration about how I have about 12k written on the stupid thing and yet not a single scene finished.

AT LEAST

NOT UNTIL TODAY

YES, I’VE DONE IT. I’ve finished a scene on this amazing, wonderful, and incredibly stupid WIP, and I could just cry.

FYI for anyone who doesn’t know what the fuck I’m talking about (which I’m sure is everyone, ‘cause I don’t expect anybody to remember this insane thing I’ve been shouting about all this time, LOL): this is the Slytherin My Gryffindor WIP. Yes, that is a working title. 😅 I will find a better one.....some day.......Ron/Draco is the main pair, but there will also be plenty of others sprinkled in the background.

Anyway, about this ask and that context I haven’t been arsed to write yet...

Context required in order to understand this scene 😂:

Fred Lives AU

The Muggle world and the Wixen world has kind of mixed in recent years, and it’s very common for magical people to be using Muggle technology

The Weasley twins have opened a second shop in Diagon Alley...selling sex toys (yes, really)

Their first original product line issssssss..........dildoes shaped like the Weasley brothers’ own dicks (and a fleshlight kind of thing for Ginny)

Yes this is crack!fic (but, like, also not???)

Ron has been made general manager of the shop and is there all the time, as they’re incredibly busy

Draco wants 👏 that 👏 D 👏, but is worried about Ron finding out, so keeps coming into the shop randomly hoping he won’t be there (and of course he always is)

Eventually there’s a day where Ron’s in the backroom, Charlie’s visiting and helping out at the register, and when Ron emerges, Charlie informs him that Draco Malfoy has just run in and bought Ron’s dildo

Cue Ron being incredibly turned on by this notion

So that pretty much brings us up-to-speed for this scene - it’s been a few days now, and Ron’s been trying to figure out a way to contact Draco to talk to him about the whole thing, since they never became friends or anything after the war and don’t regularly talk unless they’re just seeing each other around

The fic is meant to touch on, like...fame in the aftermath of the war (i.e. why anyone would be interested in sex toys modelled after the Weasley siblings in the first place)

Ron has evolved from his teenage self and grown to hate the fame - it prevents him from being able to date, because the press can never let him keep anything private

After this scene, the fic will focus on Ron and Draco developing a sexual - and eventually romantic - relationship (originally under the guise of “testing out” other products from the shop together)

They will try their best to keep their relationship a secret, but, like...everyone knows 😘😘😘

Also Draco is a model in this one (not important for this scene, but just thought you might want to know 😂)

In addition, some warnings/content to make note of before reading:

NC-17 (smut incoming!)

Technology circa 2005

Phone sex

Semi-public sex

Sex toys

Both Ron and Draco are a little drunk (but very consenting!)

Crack taken way too seriously

Of course, this hasn't been betaed or Britpicked, so I apologize for how very rough it is right now, lol. It will likely be a little (or a lot!) different if I ever actually finish this whole fucking fic and post it later on. I am treating this scene like a “sneak peek” of the fic, because I definitely do still want to try to finish it someday...

HOLY SHIT, I had a LOT more to say about it than I thought. 😅 So anyway. Scene under the cut.

Friday night at the Dragon's Head was packed. It took a bit of initiative, but Ron, Seamus, and Dean finally managed to snag them all a table in the back corner, hoarding the extra seats till Harry and Neville finally arrived, trailed closely by Ginny and Parkinson ― who were curiously short one blond wizard.

Ron tried not to think about it. He bought the first round with Harry, listening to him chat about the recent Puddlemere match against the Magpies. They ordered nibbles for the table. Ron munched on chips, his heart skipping every time the door opened across the room and another few patrons trickled in.

He was on his third pint of the evening when he started getting antsy. He sipped his Simison, using the light smoke curling around the rim of the glass to discreetly glance around the pub, hoping to spot a familiar head of blond hair in the crowd. His foot tapped impatiently on the floor.

"Is he coming, then?"

Ron's head snapped to attention. Ginny checked the door as well before turning back to Parkinson.

"Who?" Neville asked, snagging a vinegar-soaked chip from the bowl in the center of the table.

"Malfoy," Ginny said, craning her neck to see her girlfriend's screen.

Parkinson tapped away on her mobile, shaking her head. "No. Says he's already curled up with a bottle of wine and a good book, and doesn't fancy getting all done up."

Fucking hell. Ron drained the dregs at the bottom of his glass. It wasn't often Malfoy joined them on a mostly-Gryffindor outing ― not unless Parkinson could convince him. Somehow, Ron felt he should've known it wouldn't be in the cards tonight. Conversation pivoted again, and Ron ran his fingers up the sides of his empty pint, thinking.

At some point, Seamus and Harry set off to get another round, and Ginny hurried away with them after a quick peck to Parkinson's cheek. Neville and Dean had gotten into a chat about proper Mimbulus mimbletonia care, and Ron saw his chance. He could feel his heart start to thud in his chest as he cleared his throat, raising his voice to catch her attention.

"Parkinson?"

She turned back from watching Ginny leave, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Yes?"

"Think you could give me Malfoy's number?"

The smirk she gave him in response made his hands shake a little as they drummed against the tabletop.

"Whatever for?"

Ron stared her down, knowing full well any excuse he told her would never be enough. Parkinson's expression was predatory ― as if she already knew the answer anyway. He waited for her to comment, bracing himself.

To his surprise, she instead dug her mobile back out of her handbag.

She turned the screen towards him, and he typed the number directly into the dialer on his phone. He waited a few minutes until everyone ― Parkinson included ― had moved on to other things and forgotten about him, and then slipped from the table.

Ron shouldered his way through the crowd to the loo, pushing inside and locking the door behind him. It was a small room, hardly bigger than a broom closet. There was a toilet and a sink, a grimy mirror hanging above it, and a dim ceiling lamp that barely lit the space.

Ron backed up to one side of the room and slumped against the wall. He gripped the phone in clammy hands. Those pints had picked a perfect moment to hit him all at once. Ron blinked away the creeping dizziness, staring down at the numbers glowing dauntingly on the tiny screen. He'd been unable to get it out of his mind for days ― the image of Malfoy riding his dildo ― and now that he had a way to contact him, he was frozen. The leaky faucet dripped, the sound maddening as it mingled with the rush of blood in his ears. This was stupid. This was so bloody stupid.

He hit call.

Ron held his breath, cupping the phone to his ear. The line rang and rang, until he started to realize he didn't have a plan B. What if Malfoy didn't answer? What if he had to leave a voicemail? What would he even say? He should've just texted him, damn it.

Then, suddenly, the ringing stopped. There was rustling and a mumbled, "Bloody useless thing." Then, louder, "Yes?"

"Malfoy?"

"Yes, this is ― Weasley?"

Malfoy sounded surprised. Ron breathed out gradually, his heartbeat slowing with it. Malfoy's voice was clear and present on the other end. No looking back. He tried to think of something to say, and only came up with one thing.

"Haven't seen you round the shop yet this week."

"Don't tell me that's really why you called." Malfoy sighed, trying to sound put-upon, but Ron could hear the hint of nerves underneath. "If you must know, that would be because I found what I'd been looking for."

"I know."

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end. For a moment, Ron thought Malfoy might hang up. But then he cursed quietly. "Damn that brother of yours. Incorrigible."

So it really was true. Charlie hadn't just been taking the piss. Ron felt a warmth flare up in his belly, spreading down to the tops of his thighs.

"Try growing up with him. And the twins? Now that's a real nightmare."

"I was trying for discreet, but you were always there."

Ron leaned further back against the wall, staring up at the dark ceiling above. He thought of all those times Malfoy had dropped in at the shop, only to hurry out again if Ron ever came too close. Malfoy had jumped at the chance when Ron had been called away to the back that day.

Malfoy cleared his throat. "Well. You know. So what, then? Looking to mock me for it?"

"You always assume the worst with me. Why is that?" Although Ron couldn't exactly blame him. He hadn't given Malfoy much else to go on in years past. Neither of them had. "No. No, I was calling because…" Why had he been calling? It had seemed such a natural thing when he'd asked Parkinson for Malfoy's number not five minutes ago. "I was curious. If there was, er." He waved his free hand, searching for the words. Nothing sounded right. "Any particular reason for it."

Malfoy laughed ― a short bark of a sound. "I mean, obviously yes. It's a sex toy, Weasley."

Ron snorted, taken aback. "That's not ―"

"Actually, I thought it'd make a nice statement in the middle of my dining table. It would be an excellent conversation piece for dinner parties."

"For fuck's sake, Malfoy, I didn't ―"

A chuckle rumbled through from the other end of the line. There was that snark again. Merlin, it made Ron hot, his skin blooming from his collar up to his ears. He chewed his lip, pulling back the grin that threatened to spread across his face.

"I only meant ― was there a reason? That you'd picked mine?"

The line suddenly went quiet. Ron had to check his phone just to make sure the call hadn't dropped.

When Malfoy finally replied, his voice was soft, uncertain. "What would possess you to call and ask me that?"

Ron breathed in slowly, his hand tapping an incoherent rhythm on his thigh. "Well, I'm a bit pissed, to be honest," he admitted, still feeling the slight burn the Simison had left in his throat.

Malfoy didn't say anything more at first. The lamp above buzzed as the faucet continued to drip. Ron could hear the noise from the pub pressing up against the other side of the door.

Then, Malfoy said, "Maybe there was."

Ron felt his heart jump into his throat. "Was what?"

"A reason why I bought it," Malfoy said slowly, deliberately. "Figure it out, Weasel."

Oh, bloody hell. Ron took a shaky breath. Every nerve felt like it was on fire.

"And...how was it?" Ron heard himself ask as if from very far away.

Even over the din of the music beyond the bathroom door, he could hear Malfoy swallow. "It was good."

"Oh, ta." Ron chuckled despite himself.

"No, I mean...Bugger." It was nice hearing Malfoy so flustered. A rare occurrence, and one that the little fluttering pixie in Ron's stomach very much wanted to repeat. "It was brilliant, alright? Happy?"

Brilliant. The word tingled down Ron's spine. For some reason, he couldn't wipe the smile from his face. Bloody hell, was this really happening? He thought of fleeting insults thrown in the school corridors all those years ago ― then he thought of a night just a few months ago, the look in Malfoy's eyes as Ron told him about the shop.

"You wrote a song about me once, if I remember correctly," Ron said, feeling deliriously happy.

"I suppose I did." Malfoy sighed.

Ron's eyes flicked to the door, to the noise of the crowd beyond. "Why didn't you want me to know?"

"Oh, please, Weasley," Malfoy said bitterly. "Pick a reason."

"I know, but ―" Ron tried to argue, but Malfoy cut him off.

"You don't owe me anything. It would be incredibly unfair for me to expect you to be interested in return."

Ron supposed that was fair enough. He'd had similar feelings towards Malfoy until very recently.

"I would be, though. I mean ― I am."

Saying the words out loud gave them a weight Ron hadn't felt before. He let them roll off his tongue, flattened the tip of it along his lips as he thought about flashes of icy blond hair, high cheekbones, and long fingers swirling around the rim of a glass. He thought of the moment he'd finally realized Malfoy had been looking back.

"Oh." Malfoy paused, seeming surprised by that revelation. "Good to know."

Malfoy fidgeted. Ron listened intently, hearing the breath he released and the scrape of his fingers against his mobile.

"You wouldn't ― ah." Malfoy caught himself, and Ron waited for him to continue, his ears ringing. "Would you want to…?" Malfoy trailed off, finishing his thought with a scoff.

"Would I want to what ― oh."

Oh.

Ron swallowed hard. He wanted to believe Malfoy was asking him what he thought he was asking him, but even after everything, it was almost too good to be true. The long stretch of awkward silence on the other end told him he was right, though, and that made him jittery, his hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck.

"I could be reading too much into this," Malfoy muttered.

"No, no, definitely not. I mean." Ron licked his lips, his mouth suddenly feeling far too dry. "I just don't want you to think I expect this."

Malfoy made a sound, and Ron could practically feel him rolling his eyes on the other end of the line.

"Oh, so you don't ring up every person who buys a model of your cock and ask them how they enjoyed it?"

"What? No, of course not!" Ron stopped, realizing, and laughed at himself. "You're joking. That was a joke."

"Terribly clever, this one."

A sudden jiggling of the door handle made Ron jump, almost dropping his mobile in the process.

"Occupied!"

He fumbled with the phone, his heart thudding wildly. When he put it back to his ear, Malfoy was laughing. The sound made Ron feel weak in the knees.

"Where are you?" Malfoy asked, still snickering.

"In the loo at the Dragon's Head."

"Oh, of course." Malfoy sucked his teeth contemplatively. "Hang on. Is there anyone in there with you?"

Another frustrated turn of the door handle.

"It's a single."

"Good." Malfoy lowered his voice conspiratorially. "Do you want me to use it?"

Ron pressed his hand flat against the door, waiting until he heard the bloke give a huff and storm off. "Use what?"

"Your dildo, Weasley."

The silken drawl of Malfoy's voice spread like gooseflesh across Ron's skin. "Right now?" he asked incredulously, although he was already half hard at the thought.

"I could give you an exclusive product review. Unless you don't want to."

"No, I do!" Ron replied quickly, and Malfoy laughed again, making him blush.

"Eager, are we?"

"Yes." Ron passed a hand over his face, trying to laugh as well, but it came out shaky. Merlin, it had been all he could think about for the past few days. Still, he'd never imagined Malfoy would offer it outright. "Just didn't take you for the phone sex type."

Malfoy hummed. "You caught me in a randy mood. Now how do I �� ah, right."

Ron assumed he'd been put on speakerphone, as there was now an echo. He dug out his wand for a moment and cast a quick Silencio on the bathroom. It was a wonder how he had the brain power to spare, when all the blood in his body was suddenly rushing to his cock. He could hear Malfoy fumbling for something on the other end.

"Where are you?" Ron asked in return, trying to distract himself from the heady thrum of anticipation.

"In bed. Naked," Malfoy added with a hint of a smirk in his voice. Ron groaned, shutting his eyes against the image of Malfoy stretched out on soft sheets, hard and waiting for him. Merlin, had he been naked the whole time they were talking? Ron pressed the heel of his palm to the crotch of his jeans.

Malfoy went silent for a moment, until there was a faint intake of breath. His bed creaked distantly in the background.

Ron licked his lips, cupping his hand around the solid, hot line of his cock under his trousers. "Are you prepping yourself?"

"Of course." Malfoy breathed out steadily, the bed creaking again. "You're bigger than I thought you'd be. Although I'd always wondered."

Fucking hell. Ron arched against his hand. Was he really going to get his cock out in a pub toilet? The last shred of his resolve melted away when he heard Malfoy moan, low and guttural, a sound that shot straight through Ron, all the way to his toes. He imagined Malfoy laying back, his knees bent up, and slick fingers down between his legs, pressing in and out of his puckered hole. Ron was switching the phone to his left hand before he could give it a second thought. He flicked open the button on his jeans and pushed his pants down to hook under his balls, taking himself in hand.

Ron rolled his hand down over his length. Malfoy's breath hitched, and he cursed, the bed shifting with him. Ron caught his lip between his teeth, wondering how many fingers he had in him. He imagined himself leaning over Malfoy on the bed, licking a hot stripe along his neck as his hand worked him open, his thighs falling open as he settled between them.

"Fuck, I needed this," Malfoy breathed. Ron moaned, pulling his foreskin back and rubbing over the weeping head of his cock.

Malfoy muttered a Cleansing charm, and then a drawer was pulled roughly open nearby. Ron heard Malfoy pick up the phone, moving and setting it down again as he bounced on the bed, adjusting himself.

"Are you ―?" Ron wanted to ask, but he couldn't finish the thought, left hand gripping the phone hard as he tried to steady himself.

"Yes, gods."

Ron paused, listening as Malfoy shifted and panted on the other end. He didn't have to ask when it was fully in. He knew the moment Malfoy's breath faltered, the gasp he gave sending shivers down Ron's spine.

Malfoy huffed, the sound so loud to Ron's ears as the whole world funneled down to a point, to this moment as he listened to Malfoy move the toy inside of himself. He moaned, and Ron thought he could hear the squelch of lube on the other end of the line as it entered him.

"Talk to me, Weasley."

Malfoy sounded wrecked. It was enough to make Ron's toes curl just to hear it. It was almost too much to handle ― the idea of Draco Malfoy being thoroughly fucked out by a dildo modelled after Ron's own cock. Ron's head thunked back against the wall. His hand trembled a little as he began stroking himself again.

"Get on your knees for me," he said softly.

Malfoy swore. Ron heard him flip over, his panting breaths suddenly closer to the receiver. In his mind, he could see Malfoy bent over the bed, arse in the air and cheek pressed against the mattress, lips rosy and parted. He imagined himself knelt behind Malfoy, hands gripping his slender hips.

"There's, uh." Ron swallowed. "There's a self-shagging feature. If you want. The spell's ―"

"Oh, we're well acquainted."

"Fuck," Ron moaned. No way he was going to last like this. He rocked his hips, thrusting into the tight circle of his fist. Malfoy sounded like he was trying to collect himself, even as his voice broke on the last word. Ron couldn't begin to explain why that aroused him so much, but he didn't care, already speeding up his hand as it flew over his cock.

Malfoy cast the spell, and Ron felt his cry as the toy began to move on its own. The bed gave a jolt under Malfoy's weight. He gasped again, and Ron heard his fingers scrambling across the sheets.

Ron could almost see it. He imagined Malfoy's bowed back, his knees slipping and spreading apart, his toes curling. The bed creaked with each movement. A dildo of Ron's own making, Malfoy arching back onto it as it fucked him down onto the mattress. Merlin, he should've known Malfoy would take it so well, his eyes rolling back as he listened to the sounds Malfoy made as it thrust into him.

Ron closed his eyes and felt like he was sitting in the room, watching the whole show, watching a copy of his cock pound into Malfoy again and again. The pub outside the bathroom door fell away from him, and all he could focus on was Malfoy's voice and his hand on his own cock.

"Tell me how it feels," Ron choked out, wanting to hear it, see it, touch it, to watch Malfoy unravel under Ron's hands and cock, to capture each cry with his tongue.

Malfoy groaned. "So ― good ―"

"Tell me," Ron rasped again, thrusting his hips forward into his hand. "Tell me ― ah ― how good it is."

"It's so ―" Malfoy cried out, his hands skittering over the sheets. "So good ― so big ― I ―"

"Fucking hell, Malfoy."

At that point, Ron didn't know if he wanted to be watching the toy fuck Malfoy or if he wanted to take over for it. Was he really getting jealous of a dildo? He wished he was there. He wanted to tell Malfoy as much, but he couldn't manage it, instead moaning loudly as he felt his balls begin to draw up against him.

"Fuck, Weasley, you're gonna make me come," Malfoy whined, his posh accent slipping. 

Holy shit, and that was what did it. Ron made a gut-punched sound, his wrist flicking over the head of his cock. He was coming almost before he'd even realized. He barely had the presence of mind to do anything about it before the first spurt had dribbled onto the floor. He pushed off the wall and lent forward, pumping the remainder into the sink. He heard Malfoy swear, and Ron slumped back against the wall again, listening as he came apart with a shuddering cry.

The line went quiet once more. Ron rested his head on the tiles behind him, closing his eyes, holding his softening cock. For a long time, all he could hear was Malfoy breathing on the other end, his own heartbeat equally loud in his ears.

"I liked that. A lot."

Eloquent as always. Ron half expected for Malfoy to say just that, but instead he heard a very soft chuckle ― and then, quietly, "So did I."

Now that his heart rate was gradually slowing, the noise of the club outside wormed its way back in, reminding Ron of where he was, and what he'd just done. He shuffled his feet uncomfortably, glancing at the door when he heard a chatty couple pass by. How long had he been in there? Were the others looking for him?

Another person suddenly banged on the door, and Ron started, pushing off from the wall and quickly withdrawing his wand, disabling his Silencio and spelling himself clean.

"Right." He wanted to say more. Merlin, he did. But instead all he said just then was, "Well, I should probably, er, get back to it. You know?"

"Of course." There was rustling on the line, and then Ron was off speakerphone, Malfoy's voice close and intimate again in a way that made him shiver. "Have a good night, Weasley."

"You too, Malfoy."

Ron exited the bathroom, ignoring the irritated look the other patron gave him as he slipped past.

The entire way back to their table, he felt like he was floating on a cloud. Harry gave him an odd look when he slid into his seat, pulling the fresh pint they'd bought him an indeterminable amount of time ago towards him. Ron couldn't even begin to catch up with what they were all talking about, his mind drifting to thoughts of Malfoy, his mobile a leaden weight in his pocket as the night wound on.

[the-art-of-animated-gifs]

Interview with my friend A.L. Crego

I have not met A.L. Crego.  I have not spoken with him on the phone, in fact I do not even know what he looks like.  But I can confidently call him my friend.  Three years ago when I started this blog he immediately disagreed with me in the comments about things I was writing and I loved it.  As a person putting ideas out there, you treasure things like that....because you know someone cares.  We have had many back and forth discussions over the years....if we had lived in Paris in 1911 we would be having arguments at La Rotonde (not to compare either of us to Picasso).

A.L. Crego is a motion artist who does a wide variety of things.  He has now become a very visible and active figure in the NFT Movement.  He recently completed a large and very successful project in which he animated the work of a number of well know street artists on the building themselves, something he has done for years.  His Tumblr page is a good place to start to see his work, which is largely surrealist in nature -- another Spanish artist following in the footsteps of other great Spanish surrealist artists.

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How long have you been creating gif art?

In a conscious and intentional way since 2014. Previously I haven't pay too much attention on one hand for its common use that was mostly ads and funny little videos, and on the other hand because it was a 'standard' format we accepted as something part of the web so I never stopped to analyze its potential. The key point for me was about 2010-2011 when the concept of 'Cinemagraph' was brought to life just giving it a name. It's format is .gif but its characteristics are different so I saw there the midpoint between photography and video, which gave born another format of art.

Art mutates when a new format appears. I was using and studying this format since then but it wasn't until 2014 that I decided to publish some of them.

What is your background?

In general terms, bachelor, 2 years of stone sculpting and two attempts of photography and audiovisual mediums. I say attempts because I gave up both of them as I was feeling that I was looking for something else more than studying all the previous history, style and isms, which is nice to understand where everything comes from and to be aware what are the key points on the history to use as reference, as a map. But in some way I felt limited as I was using digital tools since I had my first computer with 14 years, and I was being taught things I learnt by then. Even more in this times we are living where we are 21 century people, been taught by teachers from the 20 with 19 century methods.

A constant line that feeds my background is literature and music overall and later Street Art, next to more temporal interests as everything related with mythology, alchemy, history, psychology, neurology, biology, human condition in general... I don't have studies buy I'm a studying guy!

I always like to highlight that all these years that internet got strong and social networks appeared, I decided voluntary to be out of them. First reason was to keep my privacy safe in a growing world where it seemed that some "curtain" felt and everybody accepted that intimacy was now 'ex-timacy' and correct to show their private life, (this shocked me). Another reason was about the psychological effect that social networks were having on people I had around and everywhere in general. I started to notice patterns and "waves" about series, aesthetics, styles, and I was seeing clearly that if I go there, I will become permeable to all this "Amniotic Culture" I was trying to avoid.

This fact of being far (but study them closely) helped me a lot about researching and developing my own ideas and style, for the mere fact that I was using all this time and attention Social Networks require, on drinking from another sources. The B-side of this is that I was 'out of the radar' of mass people as this social networks are designed to live inside them. My idea of internet and spreading ideas is not in this way.

Where do you live and work?

In the north west of Spain, Galicia. Now due to Covid I travel less but before it, I was working and traveling many places as I only need a camera and a computer. This allows me move to work anywhere.

Do you think that animated gifs are a new art form?

I think so, despite the fact that the format existed since 1987. But as every new format of art it takes its time to be considered as art. The first photographs were not considered art until many years later. Same happened with film, same with CGI. Is nice to have in mind that gif format is the last strictly digital format of the three main ones on the web: picture, video and gif. Photography has about 200 years of history, video about 130, CGI about 60. Finally gif has 33, and used as art itself no more than 10-15. In the same way anybody takes a picture of anything does not convert it into art, is the same with gifs. One thing is the format, another is the 'art'. Everybody can take a picture, record a video or do a gif. The difference is on the how, the why, and from my point of view overall, the what.

Do you think that there is a difference between pure .gif files and the .mp4 files that people post on Instagram?

The first, big and obvious difference is the format. Is not the same a painting as a picture of a painting. Here happens the same. For example, if you treat a gif with Cinemagraph technique, you are converting in picture some parts of the image, so they still remain and with the texture and totally stillness of a picture. If you convert this gif into a mp4 this still parts, despite not having motion, will convert into a video texture (noise, subtle motion in pixels, etc) so the main characteristic, among the perfect loop, is lost. Another point is that you must play a video, a gif is always running. Waterfalls are always running and this characteristic is something that is inside our human nature, we react nice to "bucle" motions as waterfalls, fire, etc. We find pleasure on this. Of course if it's a video the perfect loop is lost and the visual mantra disappear. And another key point here is the soundtrack. In a video you can use sound to enhance or give another meaning to the piece that you can't with gifs. For me this is another characteristic that give meaning to gif. For me gif is silence, the sound is generated by the motion, the melody are the details and the beat the perfect loop. You can "hear" almost every gif.

The difference between a gif and a video is the same that between a waterfall and a hose (if this works).

What do you think are the characteristics of good gif art?

For me first and overall the perfect loop. Not using it is not using the only format that has this characteristics. Of course there can be gif art that is not perfect loop, but from my point of view and in my work is a must. It's a new way not only of creating but also of thinking. Imagine an still scene is easy, imagine an A-B point action is easy. For me the challenge is about thinking an idea that is perfect looped where all the elements interact and eventually come back to its initial point. Succeed doing this is where the perfect loop appears and you are not able to find where is the start point of the action. Like a visual mantra, that it's repetition leads you inside the piece. Gif art is nice to use the power of the hypnotic movements. Another point to have in mind for me is the flow of it, the frame rate I mean. Depending on the idea and the kind of animation this should vary; is not the same fps to achieve something with flow than if you want to achieve a more 'retro' old style. Another thing is about dithering and color palette. This second one is essential to understand as it affects the final file. When we work with photo and video we are using millions of colors but when rendered as gifs all the gradients, lights and even colors will change if there is a previous understood of this point.

As summary: If motion doesn't add, change of enhance the meaning of the piece, is expendable.

I'd would like to add that I'm not really supporter of this kind of gifs generated automatically that just move a still image itself. I understand that this 'technique' is used as a tool for certain motion (I use it) but not to move a whole image. I feel the same as if somebody hold a painting in front of me and moves it randomly. If the work was born still, it must remain still. A good example of 'inner motion', this means that the motion is implicit on the image despite not being in motion, are the photographs of Cartier Bresson for example. Giving motion to this pictures for example, will kill it because it will break the concept of 'perfect instant' .

'Instant' differs etymologically from 'moment' in the motion. So, still image (painting, photo, sculpture, etc) is an instant, videos are stories with a-b point, and gifs are moments, the mid point.

How would you describe your gif art?

I usually condense it as "Visual Mantras", as the technique and the aesthetic vary depending on the idea , but in all of them the perfect loop and the intention of hypnotizing is always present.

In another terms about aesthetics and themes I think ‘Industrial Nature’ can fit nice. I use a lot of industrial elements but I like to mix their mechanics with the biological natural ones.

How long have you been creating and selling NFTs?

I am selling NFTs since mid 2019, but it wasn't until October 2020 that I focused more on it and dug into the ecosystem to find new paths to focus my work.

Do you think that NFTs are a positive for gif artists?

For me, and the main reason I jumped into cryptoart and NFT, is that now I can certify my digital work as original. Even more to gif works as they were always understood as something banal and minor for the context of its born. Gif art was born prostituted, used mostly for ads and to claim our attention on the internet, next to the highest glamour of painting and traditional art, and 3d, photography and video these last decades. Even worst if we realize that gif format was the only visual format born by and for the internet.

NFTs are totally positive for gif artists because despite being a digital/online native format it never had its own ecosystem to live in. I feel that I was creating creatures for an ecosystem I was waiting to drop them there. Now with the blockchain, NFTs and cryptoart, I found the place where they can live, being watched by everybody and have the certify that is my work. Until some months ago my work was "free" on the web and I had no control over it at all. This was a huge problem I was suffering since my first month into gif art as people use it indiscriminately with no credit at all. It's ok, and I always defend that my work is to be seen, to be shared, but I was looking for the way to be able to have this link with my work without losing the option of being available for everybody. NFT totally changes this.

What do you think will happen in the future as NFTs get even more popular?

In general terms I think it will happen the same as when print got more popular. People will use it more, a lot of crazy and useless things will appear, tons more of different uses and useful purposes, (not only on art). This opens a new door a lot of people was waiting so the future is unpredictable but we can feel where things are going. NFT arrived to stay and the concept of decentralization is something that was always present on the internet since first days but born inside a centralized system. NFTs are being a way for people to understand the 'peer to peer' philosophy and this makes people think in different codes, so we can expect a lot of new horizons, in art, music, design...

What do you think of the environmental impact of NFTs?

This question can goes really deep but in general terms I think that is something that is being oversized due to the hype and the boiling point we are, and it's understandable because is not false that it has an environmental impact, as everything does. But on the other hand I have two main areas in mind. The first and the obvious from my point of view is that when something is new and developing is less efficient, in the way that it requires more effort to achieve the result. But at the same time, the more this technology is used the more is developed and all this issues are part of it. The first car was not electric.

The second point that usually reverberates in my mind and that it seems that 'hard critics' omit is that they are not having in mind that this NFTs we mint, give us a profit that can be used offline to do another things that can be useful to solve this problem, for example, investing part of this money on living on our own in a minimal and clean way (not working for huge multinational that their environmental impact is tons times more than NFTs and then being part of an ONG to feel clean) and on using part of this money on looking and researching new ways to mint and to keep this digital ecosystem more efficient and clean. Every development needs time.

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If you have found this content valuable considering getting me a cup of coffee

[crowtrinkets]

Your Weary Widow Marches

A Gender Neutral MCxFelix fic in which our dear barista educates their teacher and shows him some music from their home.

I’ve never really written fanfiction before but I thought Id give it a shot. The formatting looks weird on my end so if it looks weird after posting I apologize I couldn’t figure it out. Hope you enjoy!

—-

The crackling fire and pages being turned were the only sounds heard for the past few hours. Felix and I sat on either side of a couch placed in Anisa’s office silently reading our respective books. I’ve been in Astraea for nearly a week and had I known that Felix’s teaching method would be done via reading books the size of an encyclopedia I probably would have chosen Sage or Anisa instead... probably

I glance up at Felix, he’s sitting with legs crossed slouching on the arm rest of the couch, glasses on and enthralled in his book. I'm leaning with my back against the arm rest facing Felix, peering at him from behind my knees. I watch as his eyes scan the pages, partially hiding behind my book so he doesn’t notice me stare. I rub my eyes, dry from the endless reading of Astraean history. I know plenty of history and lore from this world thanks to countless hours of playing Last Legacy and stalking forums, but I don’t think I could’ve convinced Felix of that without having to explain what video games are let alone the internet. He thought if I were to learn magic I should at least know part of its history and it’s contribution to their society. 

Despite spending some time with Felix I'm still amazed at the attention span he has for reading. I scan the room trying not to move too much lest I be scolded by the warden. I glance over at the high back chair across the room. The one Anisa sat me in after my jaunt through Felix’s portal and painfully onto Anisa's desk. My mind begins to wander. 

I’ve only been here a short time but I feel like I’ve adjusted well. I wonder what's happening on Earth. Does time pass the same at home like how it does in this realm? World? Alternate universe? I still don’t exactly know how to explain my predicament. Has anyone noticed I'm gone yet? I wonder if I’m on the missing persons list, someone at work will have noticed I didn’t show up for my shifts. I cringe slightly at that last thought, my open book now resting on my chest. Ah damn it, I’m definitely fired aren’t I. How am I gonna pay my bills.... and my home, I miss my bed....my plants. SHIT MY PLANTS. I bring my hand to my face and cringe, my beloved house plants they’re going to wither away in my absence. Fate is such a cruel mistress.

“Bored of reading are we?” I slightly jump at Felix’s comment. I bring my hand down and look at him. Staring at me through his glasses a smirk on his lips. I flush slightly and close my book.

“No I just, got to thinking about Earth, and my life, I guess I’m just a little home sick,” I mumble out those last words. I want to be honest with Felix but I don’t want him beating himself up for my situation. I mean yes he is the reason I’m stuck here but I don't hate him for it. Felix frowns and closes his own book.

“Ah... I am sorry about that, I-“ I sit up interrupting him.

“No no no, I'm not mad at you, I’m actually quite enjoying my time here. I mean I don’t have to make drinks for annoying customers everyday here,” I force a laugh but it comes out awkwardly. Felix gives me a quizzical look. I then realize, with the amount of times he calls “dear barista” I just assumed he knew what it meant. “Yknow, my job? A barista?” Felix flushes and avoids looking at me.

“I must admit.. I do not actually know what that is,” I cant help but chuckle, the great necromancer Felix, is embarrassed to not know something.

“Well my dear teacher," I emphasize the word teacher mimicking the way he calls me, "allow me to educate you on some Earth information,” I sit cross legged and scoot closer to him book in my lap. Felix adjusts to face me properly and removes his glasses. I clear my throat and smile at him. “My part time occupation of being a Barista, requires me to make drinks for customers and sell them, more often I make coffee but sometimes people order tea. We sell pastries as well,” Felix gives me yet another confused look.

“All you do is prepare drinks and flakey confectioneries?” I nod in response with a smile, I can only imagine what he assumed a Barista was. Felix chuckles and runs a hand through his hair, “All this time I thought it was something more complicated, you described your customers as being annoying? I am assuming you do not like this particular job?”

“Well, I don't hate it but the customers can get a little rude and for the dumbest reasons too. One time a woman threw her drink at me claiming I added 3 1/2 shots of espresso and rather than 3,” I laugh to my self looking back at the memory, chuckling more when I see Felix’s horrified expression.

“A woman... threw a drink at you? Because she deemed it made incorrectly? I did not except Earth customs to be so. . . Barbaric,” Felix looks at me astonished and confused but all I can do is laugh. “And why are you laughing? Are you alright did she hit your head when she assaulted you with a beverage?” Felix is now standing while I clutch my stomach in pain, the combination of the story and Felix’s confusion is too much to bare. After a minute I manage to calm down enough to speak.

“No no, she did not hit me in the head, I’m just laughing cause it was funny, well at the time it wasn’t but my co workers took pictures and I looked ridiculous. I can laugh about it now,” I wipe a stray tear from my eye as I recount the experience. Thank god her drink was iced. 

“Picture?” Felix chimes in. I try to think of how to explain how photography works but I come up with an idea.

“Why don’t I show you?” I stand handing Felix my book and I jaunt over to Anisa’s desk. I let her peruse my backpack because she seemed so interested in my “Earthly items” as she called them. I walked back over and sit on the floor, patting the ground next to me so Felix can join. 

“You known there is a perfectly good sofa right next to you, I don’t understand why you wish to sit on the ground like we are mere children,” but despite his protests Felix sits next to me still clutching our books. I rummage through my back tossing the other items to the side. My wallet, a flyer, a jacket, that granola bar which has definitely crumbled to pieces in its package. Until I finally find it, my phone. My first night here I instinctively tried to use it, forgetting I am now stuck in a world without wifi or cell towers. In an effort to hopefully conserve its battery I hard shut off my phone I did not think I would need it but now is an opportunity for me to educate Felix about my world rather than his and tell him a little about myself. Really I just want a reason to prolong my time from reading anymore history. I hold the power button and silently pray. Please have some battery left, please please. Felix is leaning towards me, his face inching closer to mine, I glance at him studying his expression. He looks confused, and curious at the same time, there's a slight scrunch in his brow like he’s trying to seem like he understands what I’m doing, but I know he doesn’t. In that moment his eyes meet mine, I turn my head to fully face him, a blush creeps up his face and I can feel mine begin to warm as well. “Felix-“

BING

We both jump at the sound of my phone turning on. Damn phone, well I guess I kinda asked for that. Felix sits back and clears his throat.

“Um, what, what is that?” His voice wavers slightly but I choose to ignore it to save him some dignity.

“Its my phone, on Earth nearly everyone has one of these. You can use it to communicate with other people, take pictures, look things up, and listen to music.” I begin to unlock it and open my photo album.

“You can communicate with other people? On this... this flat brick?” Felix points accusatory at my phone the scrunch in his eyebrows have intensified creating deep crevices on his forehead. I nod while I scroll through trying to find the photo. 

“Yup and take pictures, such as this one,” I turn my phone to face Felix revealing the image documenting the after affects of being assaulted with coffee. He leans over to get a better look. In the picture I'm standing by the cash register, soaked through my clothes in an extra large coffee's amount of liquid. The brown liquid stains my apron and the parts on my white shirt poking out from underneath. There's smeared whipped cream going across my shoulder up my neck and partially along my jaw, and the scowl on my face could kill a man. The instant I show the picture to Felix he plants a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter. He turns away in an attempt to hide his amusement but I know he wont last.

“Im-I must apologize I did not mean to laugh but, but the look on your face is hilarious,” Felix faces me again trying to hide his smile with the back of his hand. I start to chuckle, I turn the phone back to me and swipe to the next picture. Its a similar picture but in this one my co worker put whipped cream on top of my head, something about it “completing the look”. When I show this picture to Felix it breaks his terrible attempt of remaining poise. He laughs loudly, and it’s extremely contagious. I laugh along with him reminiscing in his beautiful laugh. Every once in a while we calm down until we look at the picture and we start up again. After a bit I’m able to calm down enough to speak.

“Don’t feel bad for laughing, at the time I was pissed but my co workers cheered me up and now I have these memories to laugh at,” I start to look through my album again as Felix calms down from his laughing high. I find more pictures to show him. Some are of me at work with my co workers, one picture of me laughing as I held a dog that jumped through the drive through window. I show him more pictures, some are of earth sunsets which Felix claimed to look like they belong in a painting. I also show him a picture of some Geese I saw while on a walk, and then a picture of said Geese chasing me. This gets Felix to laugh again but not as hard.

“You lead an interesting life on Earth, it seems similar to Sage you are also prone to provoke others into attacking you,” I roll my eyes at Felix’s joke and give him a friendly shoulder bump. Its at this moment I realize how close he’s sitting. Our books set aside and Felix is leaning on one arm politely looking over my shoulder at my phone, I can tell he doesn’t really understand how it works but it seems he’s enjoying this moment to much to ask. In an attempt to keep the sweet moment I change the subject.

“Hey do you want to listen to some Earth music?” With a nod from Felix I close the app and instinctively go to press my streaming app. Damn no Internet. I think for a second and remember I have some music I bought in times before streaming apps existed. I find the app and open it. Dear god my taste was cringey. I scroll through the songs until I stumble across a less than embarrassing song. “This is a classic where I come from, everyone has heard this song at least once. I lay back onto the floor so I can properly listen to the music. Felix looks at me and awkwardly lays down as well, I click on the song allowing it to play.

Just a small town girl

Livin' in a lonely world

She took the midnight train goin' anywhere

Just a city boy

Born and raised in South Detroit

He took the midnight train goin' anywhere

Felix gives me a puzzled look but I just shrug and look up at the ceiling. I close my eyes and take in the song as it plays. If I concentrate hard enough I can imagine my self back on Earth. Sitting in my room listening to 80s music while I do laundry or cook my dinner. I start to feel nostalgic again but I try not let my emotions take over. The song ends and I pause it before it plays the next song. I roll onto my side and rest my head on my hand.

“So what’d you think?” I beam at Felix, I genuinely want to know what he thinks of Earth music, and more specifically a song that I am quite fond of. Felix is laying flat on his back, he ankles crossed and his hands laying on his chest. He looks nervous to be laying on the ground next to me but has made no attempts to leave.

“I thought it was... interesting to say the least. It had quite a captivating story although I was confused when the subject changed multiple times, and what exactly are they trying to “not stop believing” in” Felix does air quotes and seems genuinely enthralled in the “story” of the song. I smile and start to look for another song. 

“How about you choose the next one?” I tilt my phone towards him. Felix sits up at my question.

“I dont feel very well versed in Earth music though,” He mumbles. I shrug at his comment.

“Just pick one with a name that sounds interesting to you” I show Felix how to use the phone and hand it to him laying back down. I peek at Felix, he’s holding the phone in one hand and is scrolling with the other, he’s holding it like an old man. I watch his face, he’s thoroughly looking at every single song title and determining whether they are interesting or not. I find it... cute, his concentration face is cute. Oh if he caught me staring I know he would become a blubbering blushing mess, I mean I would be too. I close my eyes again as I wait for him to pick. 

“This one seems interesting,” I hum in response, but when Felix says the title out-loud and panic seizes through me. I sit up and shout WAIT but I'm too late. He already pressed it. And then I hear it.

That dreaded, infamous G note. Felix turns towards me surprised and hastily hands the phone to me, I pause it before another note can play.

“Hells MC what will that song make my head explode or something??? You nearly made my heart stop.” Felix takes a deep breath with his hand on his chest.

“I'm sorry, that song its kind of embarrassing actually,” I can feel myself flushing, I look away in embarrassment at the fact that I had that song downloaded and the fact that I nearly sent my teacher into cardiac arrest.

“Embarrassing how?” Felix looks at me puzzled. I open my mouth to speak but then stop. Hold on a second, Felix doesn’t know this band, let alone what an emo phase is. Well judging by his raven skull necklace he does but not in the way I do. I guess it wouldn’t be so bad if we listened to it. I do still like their music. But god did it HAVE to be this song. I clear my throat and look back at Felix.

“Nothing, it’s nothing I was just being dramatic,” I stifle a laugh. “We can listen to it, I actually quite like this band,” Felix nods and turns to face my direction, were now both sitting cross legged and I press play on the song. I smile a little as the song plays and close my eyes again. I cant even remember the last time I listened to this song. My mind begins to wander again, to my younger years when I first heard this song.

 I was such a try hard back then, wanting so badly to “be different” but also to mend the emotional pain I was going through, and this band really helped me through it. This song is a little more narrative than the last one so I hope Felix would like it. I can’t believe I freaked out like I did god he must think I'm crazy, or maybe that lady really did hit my head when she threw that drink at me. As the song plays I silently hum to it, quiet enough so that Felix might not hear. I drink in the lyrics and instruments and it feels like I'm listening to it again for the first time. 

The song ends and I open my eyes again to pause the music before it plays another one.

“So what did you think of tha-“ before I can continue I'm stopped by the sight of Felix’s face. His eyes are misty and his nose is colored pink. Was he... was he crying? Felix looks at me and his eyes go wide. He quickly turns away and rubs at his face.

“There-there is quite a lot of dust on this floor, honestly you would think Annie would have any sense to clean in here every once in a while,” I cant help but smile, wow he really is a goth child. 

“It’s ok Felix, this song makes me cry sometimes too,” Felix side eyes me and sniffles.

“I-I was not crying, yes I admit the song was... moving to say the least���. But, but I will not be mocked by you for my emotions,” Felix turns to face me again refusing to meet my eyes, his voice turning accusatory. I scoot closer to Felix and place a hand on his shoulder. He looks at me astonished and slightly flushed, either from the contact or the crying, I mean dust, I will never know.

“Congratulations” I say with a smile. Felix’s puzzled look twists even more.

“What ever are you talking about,” Felix questions.

“You’re emo now,”