#also i recently bought this small photo frame which i thought would be perfect for a pc display so theres that too

[xoalsox]

[anightflower]

Come and Find Me Chapter 4: The Andrew Curtis Case

Guys I am so sorry this took so long. On top of school kicking my ass, I had to rewrite and reedit this chapter several times until I got to one that I deemed worthy. I am going to try and post Chapter Five early for you guys if I can. 

Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Violence, Rape, Abuse

Masterlist 

Spencer glanced around the room at all the police officers assembled. He cleared his throat. 

“The Unsub is a white male in his late 20s to mid-30s. He is a man with an average build and a friendly face, someone who women would not pose as a threat.”

“Since there were no signs of forced entry, we believe he’s posing as someone who women would let into their house. Classic cases of this include maintenance men there to check up on things, someone who needs help after their car broke down, or a similar case like that.” Emily explained. “This is a man who fakes confidence, but in reality views himself as inadequate in some way, he knows he can’t fight off another man, so he chooses women who live alone and are essentially defenseless.” 

“Yet, he hates that they are successful enough to support themselves or that they have any sort of power.” Morgan chimed in.

“He clearly was cheated on or had some sort of marital issue that caused him to spiral into this spree. He is a sexual sadist projecting his partner onto the women he attacks, that’s why he chokes them, watching the life drain from their eyes sparks something in him and gives him a sense of power. That is also why he rapes his victims, he loves the idea that he is all powerful and they are helpless.” Hotch explained. 

Spencer swallowed, “Comparing his last four victims it seems his type is 20-30 year old females with (Y/C/H) and (Y/C/E).” 

Which coincidentally looks like the love of my life. Spencer thought, repressing a shudder.

________________________________________________________________

Spencer starred in shock at the scene around him. He was just finishing up the geographical profile, when they had received a call about yet another body. 

Her empty bulking eyes stared up at the ceiling, her body was beaten, cut, and bruised. 

“Strangulation marks on her neck, multiple stab wounds and injuries, this looks like our unsub.” Emily resisted the urge to shudder. 

“Man, whoever cheated on this guy, must have really broken him.” Morgan mused, looking around at the bloody scribblings on the wall. 

Spencer knew that if they tested the blood on the wall, it would match the victims. He looked at the frames on the wall, trying to ignore the blood that seemed to coat everything. The victim had her diploma hung up and multiple pictures of her smiling with family or friends. Spencer stared hard at the name on the diploma; Adria Winston.

It scared Spencer how easily he could see you in this woman’s place. Injured, dying, pleading for him, for anyone to save you-

“Reid. Reid, are you alright?” Morgan clapped a hand on Spencer's shoulder, drawing him back to the present. 

Spencer shook himself out of his dazed state. “Yeah, uh I just need to step out for a second.” He said, pushing past Morgan and making his way outside Adria’s house. He pulled out his phone and dialed your number, it was late, so you would most likely be asleep, but-

You picked up on the third ring. “Hi baby, are you alright?” Spencer bit back a smile at the sleepiness in your voice.

“Not really, but I just really needed to hear your voice. How is Ohio?” Spencer asked, trying to distract himself from what he just saw. You could tell, but you played along with it. 

“Not too bad, whoever designed the Google lounge has nothing on me.” You joked. 

“Well, we already knew that.” Spencer smiled. 

“Yeah, you wouldn’t believe some of the cool stuff I found, I’m telling you if the employees complain about these amazing comfy chairs I got for their break room, I am totally coming back and stealing all 22 of them for my apartment.” You said enthusiastically. “They're perfect for reading in Spence, I’m telling you, you would love them.” 

Spencer let out a little laugh, “I’m sure they are. We will have to see if we can find some, but I don’t think 22 will fit in either of our apartments.” 

“I suppose you’re right” You sighed dramatically, but then took a more serious tone of voice. “Are you alright baby?” 

Spencer’s chest tightened at your worried tone of voice. “There’s a sick selfish part of me that is so glad that you aren’t here (Y/N). All of these girls look so much like you-” Spencer paused, swallowing back tears. “I just am so glad you are safe, I don’t think I could focus as well on this case if I knew you could possibly be in danger.” 

“Aw Spencer, I am so sorry baby. You aren’t sick or selfish for wanting me to be safe, everyone focuses on the safety of those they love, it’s only human. I know you are going to catch this guy, you are the most brilliant man and agent I have ever met. Just don’t tell your team I said that, I don’t want a bad reputation before they even meet me.” You teased, trying to lighten his dark mood. 

Spencer let out a small laugh and sniffled. “Trust me the team is going to love you. We will have to figure out when you can meet them, but I definitely want to wait until things settle down a bit here.” 

There was silence on your end for a second. “Listen Spence, I can stay here a bit longer if it will help you focus, but when I come home I am taking self-defense classes and such. I want you to have a sane mind knowing that your girlfriend actually can handle herself. I honestly think it will help me keep sane too, after hearing everything about this case.” 

Spencer heart skipped a beat, as much as he wanted you safe and sound, he also needed to hold you in his arms to keep his sanity. But ultimately you were the one who should lead your life, not Spencer.  “I appreciate you considering me, but I want the ultimate decision to be made by you Princess, I trust your judgement and I don’t want you living your life based on my fear.” 

You breath caught in your throat at the sentiment. “I love you Spencer Reid.” 

Spencer could have sworn his heart stopped. The two of you hadn’t said I love you yet. Part of him wished it was in person, but just hearing you say it, meant the world to him. “I love you more (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

So help him god, Spencer would catch whoever this unsub was and put him away, so you could come home to a safer city. 

________________________________________________________________

“You know what strikes me as funny?” Emily asked, looking at the crime scene photos. 

The room was silent, waiting to hear what she had to say. 

“Each of these unsubs reported strange gifts and letters being sent to their home. The police had thought it was nothing, but now I am thinking that maybe this could be a connection. I mean think about it, didn’t you guys notice that each victim received a gift box wrapped the exact same way?” 

Morgan nodded. “Yeah they had the white box with the red bow-”

Spencer chimed in, “Red typically symbolizes love and infatuation, but in this case it was the unsub’s warning, red meant war or violence was about to come upon this victim.” 

“Reid and JJ I want you to talk to the officers and get the reports these women filed for harassment, I think we are missing a connection.” Hotch ordered. 

An hour or so later they had that connection.  

“All of the victims received their gifts from a delivery service called ‘Special Delivery.’” JJ explained to everyone. 

“Well it seems we have to pay them a visit.” Hotch said. 

________________________________________________________________

Special Delivery was a small Ma and Pa store, located just a couple blocks from Ava’s coffee shop. Spencer debated on stopping in to check in with her and maybe grab the team coffee. 

Spencer had quickly taken a liking to Ava, not only because he had called him your “sexy superhero boyfriend,” but because she was a reliable friend to you, one who always managed to bring a smile to your face. She reminded Spencer of a more wild Emily, in the best way possible.

Emily stopped outside the storefront window, glancing at the display of chocolates, gift baskets, and jewelry. “Why is it always the cute small places that get ruined? Can’t it be one of those big corporate offices that fuck over their employees instead?” 

Spencer huffed a laugh. 

As they entered the store, the bell let out a delicate twinkle. Causing a silver-streaked brunette to pop out from the back of the store. Her round face held a warm smile as she approached them. 

“Hello dears! What can I do for you?” She asked as she excitedly clasped her hands together.

“Hello Mrs. Ellison, my name is SSA Prentiss and this is Dr. Reid, we had a few questions for you.” Emily said gently, flashing her badge to the woman. 

The woman's smile dimmed a bit, “Oh, uh of course, is everything alright?” 

“Mrs. Ellison I am sure you’ve heard of the recent tragedies-” Emily began, 

“Oh yes, I’ve been keeping up with the news, it’s just dreadful that something so horrible could happen so close to home. You see these things in movies or in other places, but you just never expect them to happen right near you.” Mrs. Ellison said sorrowfully, wrapping her arms around herself. 

“Mrs. Ellison, I am afraid everyone of these victims received several deliveries from your shop. Each was wrapped exactly the same, white box, red bow, does this ring any bells for you?” Spencer asked, cutting to the chase. 

“Well dear, it is Valentine season, red, pink, and white are the typical go to colors.” She shrugged. 

“Do you have any regulars? He would have each gift he bought wrapped the exact same way? He would seem friendly, but would be on the quieter side?” Emily asked, attempting to prod the older woman’s memory. 

“I’m afraid none of that is ringing any bells dear, I am so sorry.” Mrs. Ellison said apologetically. 

“Do you have any other employees? Or do you run this place all by yourself?” Spencer asked. 

Mrs. Ellison, let out a small laugh, “Oh goodness me, no. I get so many orders, I could never do it by myself. I previously had three employees, Jess, Remy, and Andrew, but I had to fire Andrew when I found him stealing from our stock. It was a shame too, he was a hardworking boy, but I’m afraid he just fell apart after his wife left him.”

Emily and Spencer exchanged a quick glance. “Do you happen to know why his wife left him?” Spencer asked, his heart picking up speed. 

“Oh it's not my business to share-” Mrs. Ellison hesitated. 

“Please Mrs. Ellison, this could be crucial information.” Emily urged her. 

Mrs. Ellison let out a sigh. “That horrible girl cheated on him. I just couldn’t understand it either, Drew was such a doting gentleman to her, it simply didn’t make sense.” 

“Do you still have his contact information? His address?” 

“Why of course, but you couldn’t possibly think he has anything to do with this-” Mrs. Ellison began, making her way to behind the counter to grab a binder. She looked up worried when Spencer and Emily didn’t answer right away. “Do you?” She urged. 

“It’s quite possible he had nothing to do with it, we just need to follow through with every angle.” Emily quickly explained. 

“Of course.” Mrs. Ellison said, but her hands slightly shook as she opened up her binder to get Andrew’s address. 

________________________________________________________________

“Andrew Curtis, this is the FBI, open up.” Hotch hollered from outside the door. There was no response. Hotch looked to his team to make sure they were ready, then kicked in the door. 

As the team checked different rooms, several calls of “Clear!” echoed throughout the house. Curtis was not there. 

Morgan made his way to the basement and swallowed back a gag. “Hotch! You better come see this.” 

Guns at the ready, Spencer, Hotch, Rossi, and Emily, made their way down to Morgan. 

“What the hell.” Emily huffed as they all beheld the horrific sight before them. 

It was a girl, for sure. She had the same mutilated marks as far as they could tell, but her body was decently decayed. 

“He’s displaying her like a trophy.” Spencer observed. “He props her up naked and makes sure her wounds are fully on display to remind him what he did.”

“There’s more trophies over here.” Rossi said in disgust, gesturing to a shelf full of different valuables. 

“He’s sick.” Morgan hissed. 

“We need a med team down here to remove a body. As soon as it’s IDed we need to know and alert any next of kin.” Hotch ordered into his earpiece. 

Rossi put on a glove and began to go through the other trophies for evidence. “I’ll talk to the victims families and see if any of them recognize these items.” 

Morgan dialed up Garcia. 

“Speak and be heard, the all-knowing goddess listens.” 

“Hey baby girl, I need you to look up any missing person’s reports from around this area. The victim has (y/c/h) and (y/c/e). She fits our victimology to a t, but we need to figure out who she is.”

“I’m on it.” Garcia said. 

“And Garcia,” Hotch said, stopping her before she hung up. “I need you to find a license plate for Andrew Curtis. Also check to see if he rents or owns any other property, he’s currently not at his home and it is too close to other buildings for his victims to not be heard.” 

“You got it. Talk soon.” She said, hanging up. 

About half an hour later Garcia got back to them. “Curtis drives a 2003 silver sedan with the license plate 637-IRT. I also found that he rents a small storage unit that’s a 20 minute drive in a more secluded part of town. I am sending the address to you guys now.” 

“Thanks Garcia.” Hotch said. He turned to JJ “I need you to get an APB on Curtis. I want you to warn the public to keep an eye out for him.” 

JJ nodded and rushed off with her phone. Hotch looked to the rest of the team. “Everyone else, vests on, we are heading to that storage unit.”

________________________________________________________________

“Fuck Drew, what are we going to do?” The boy asked as he looked at the screen projecting a news report on Andrew Curtis.

“Well, it might be the end for me, little brother, but I have you as my legacy. They don’t have a clue that you are even involved, so I need you to get out of here.”

“No, no, no. I am not going to leave you!” The Boy cried, tears streaming down his face. 

Drew huffed a laugh. “Now, now, little bro. It isn’t the time for tears. I’ve taught you everything you need to know. You need to get your girl from that Doctor remember?”

“How am I supposed to do this without you?” The Boy asked, fear filled his voice. 

“Your time will come. You have to be a man about this. You have the skills now and you have our little videos to watch. Your own little tutorial to pluck that girl right out of Dr. Reid’s hands. You need to hide those and hide them well. Promise me you won’t fuck up your chance.” Drew growled. 

The Boy whimpered and Drew smacked him. “Promise me!” He yelled. 

“I promise.” The Boy sobbed, grabbing at his pained cheek.

Drew’s face softened and he gave the boy a smile. “Good, now get out of here legacy and make me proud. I expect to see you on the news someday.” He winked. “You remember our code right?” 

The boy nodded. 

“Then this isn’t the last time we will speak to each other. Now get the fuck out of here, I already fucked with the security footage, so they won’t even know you were here.” Drew explained, pushing the boy out towards the parking lot. 

The Boy’s heart broke as he rushed from his mentor, not only because he knew he would never be able to see Drew in person after this, but because he knew that he would never be able to ruin the 6th victim. The sixth whore that was tied up in the trunk of Drew’s car. 

________________________________________________________________

The girl sobs were muffled by her gag. Drew pulled on her hair harder as he dragged her to the storage unit. He knew he didn’t have much time left, so he might as well let every moment count huh?

The girl’s sobs turned into terrified screams as she beheld the bloodied storage room and the various knives and devices within it. 

“Shut up you stupid bitch.” He growled in her ear.

The girl whimpered something and Drew ripped away her gag. 

“Please.” She begged and Drew simply laughed as he lugged her limp body towards the table in the center of the room.

“Please, just let me go. I won’t tell anyone, I promise. I have a family who cares about me-” She pleaded. 

“Whores don’t have families. Whores have nothing. They just cheat and lie and move onto the next guy. Huh Madelyn?” He growled as he threw her up onto the table.

“My name isn’t Madelyn, please it’s Emily-” The girl sobbed.

“Enough of your lies Madelyn. You stupid slut. You couldn’t stay loyal could you?” Drew snarled, hitting the girl’s head hard against the table.

She sobbed harder. “My name is Emily, my name isn’t Madelyn, please it’s Emily.” She babbled.

“SHUT UP.” He said, hitting her again.

Suddenly a shout rose up from outside the storage unit door. “Andrew Curtis, this is the FBI, come out with your hands raised.” 

The smile that crept across Drew’s face was wicked. He grabbed a knife and pulled Emily against him. “Let’s have some fun, shall we?” He whispered in her ear. 

“Andrew Curtis, this is your last warning. We will come in armed and ready.” Hotch’s voice shouted again. 

Drew remained where he was, the sick smile on his face, as tears streamed down Emily’s face. 

When the door burst open and several agents poured in, he did not flinch or cower away. 

“Drop the weapon.” Hotch boomed, his voice echoing in the space.

“Now, now, now, where would the fun be in that?” Drew mocked. 

“Put down the weapon, Curtis and let the girl go.” Rossi ordered. 

Drew’s eyes looked past all of them and fell on Spencer, he bit back a smile.

“Come any closer and I’ll slice her throat.” Drew threatened, pressing the knife harder to Emily’s throat, a few drops of crimson blossomed and crept down her neck.

“If you don’t let Miss Bloise go, then we will be forced to take action Mr. Curtis.” Rossi explained.

Drew’s hand shook, god he wanted them to come at him, but then he thought of his mentee, how lost he would be without him. 

He lowered the knife and let the girl go. She ran towards one of the agents, tears mixing with the blood that ran down her neck. JJ wrapped an arm around the girl and guided her out. 

Morgan rushed to Curtis, pinning him down against the floor and putting cuffs around his wrists. 

Though they had caught him, Hotch felt uneasy. Curtis had given in too quickly. The greasy smile across Curtis’s face as Morgan led him away only heightened his suspicions. 

________________________________________________________________

The team sat outside the interrogation room, watching as Hotch tried to get a rise out of Andrew Curtis. He and JJ had gone in; Hotch to be the intimidator, JJ to be the trigger as she looked a bit similar to the victims. So far the man had just sat in the chair, his arms crossed, silent and smirking. It had been almost an hour and they had gotten nothing out of him.

Spencer felt as though Curtis could see him through the two-way mirror. 

“You know Agent,” Curtis began. “I know you’re trying to be the big bad wolf, but it’s not going to work, I’ve dealt with worse than you.”

Morgan looked about ready to kick in the door and beat the confession out of Andrew. 

“Send me in, I’ll get an answer out of him” Morgan growled, cracking his knuckles.

“Unfortunately, the confession won’t stand up in court if they found out you beat the shit out of Curtis to get it” Emily smirked, trying to lighten the mood.

“The Court doesn’t have to know” Morgan argued, making Emily scoff. 

“Focus kids.” Rossi ordered sternly, but Spencer could tell he was fighting back a small smile. 

Hotch and JJ came out of the room. Hotch looked to Spencer, his expression grim. “He wants to talk with you.”

Spencer looked at Hotch confused, “Why me?”

“He’s ‘fascinated by you’” Hotch explained. “I know it’s not ideal and you don’t have to go in their Reid, but-”

“But, we could get the confession out of him. We have the charges for Miss Bloise, but we want to pin him for the other girls he attacked. I understand and I will do it.” Spencer said. 

“I’ll stick with you Spence” JJ reassured, putting a hand on his arm. “You won’t be alone.”

Spencer nodded, sending a grateful look JJ’s way as they made their way into the interrogation room.

“Ah the elusive doctor. So glad you could join us.” Drew purred.

Spencer said nothing as he moved to sit down across from Curtis.

“-your wife left you Mr. Curtis, is that correct?” JJ asked.

“Please doll, a pretty thing like you can call me Drew” Drew said, looking JJ up and down. 

Spencer’s fists clenched in anger as he felt JJ tense next to him.

“The file says she left you after she cheated on you. Did you have medical issues Mr. Curtis?” Reid asked, drawing Curtis’s attention to him. “Did you struggle to please your own wife?”

Curtis growled. “That stupid whore has nothing to do with this.” 

“Ah so you couldn’t and when she left you for a man that could, you projected your anger for her onto these women. You were angry at them for being confident and independent, much like your wife who knew what she wanted.” Spencer said, sitting back in his chair with a faint smirk. 

“These women were nothing but whores, willing to let men in like me. They wanted someone so badly they let a stranger into their house.” Curtis hissed.

“Mr. Curtis, you were a delivery man. They didn’t let you in, you forced your way into their homes didn’t you?”

“If a man needs a glass of water, can’t he let himself in?” Curtis purred. “They turned their backs on a predator and got what was coming to them.” 

“Did you attack them in their homes?” JJ asked. 

“Only to make them quiet, couldn’t have the neighbors hear them scream.” Curtis laughed and Spencer resisted the urge to choke out the man across from him. 

They placed images of all of his supposed victim’s before him. “Do you recognize these women?” JJ asked, her voice harsh and cold. 

Curtis looked over all of them, silent for a couple minutes. Spencer’s patience thinned. “Well?” 

Curtis pointed to an image of Lila Jennings, the third victim of this case. “She screamed the loudest.” He pointed to another image. “She was a hot piece of ass, it was fun breaking her.” 

“Enough.” Spencer hissed. 

“In short Doctor, yes I do recognize these women. Every single one of them and no I do not regret a single one.”

Without saying another word, JJ and Spencer got up, taking the files with them. Curtis’s laughter rang out behind them as they shut the door.

________________________________________________________________

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[casuallyimagining]

Postcards

Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Summary: Jungkook goes on tour without you, and he sends back mementos to let you know he’s thinking of you. Notes: Part of the Long Term Couples series.  Read more here

The postcards had started to appear in your mailbox in mid-August. One or two a week, sometimes three, always a few days between to space out their appearance. And while it was October and they had been appearing regularly, you had to admit that each one was a surprise.

You thought maybe eventually the novelty would wear off, or that it would become too expensive to send mail to Seoul from halfway across the planet. But their appearance never ceased.

Sometimes, you would find more than one postcard in your mailbox at a time, the handwriting on each different--sometimes sloppy, sometimes cramped, sometimes tall characters, sometimes short ones--but you looked forward to the neat, even-spaced handwriting the most.

It had been months, and even though you talked on the phone every night, you missed Jungkook more than you anticipated.

Any other tour, you’d be there with him and the rest of his members. Any other tour, you were a valuable member of the crew--working with the stagehands and the production staff to make sure every concert ran as smoothly as possible. But this wasn’t a world tour, and really, it hadn’t been planned too far in advance. So as Jungkook and the boys traipsed across Europe and Asia, you were stuck in your apartment with Kimchi, Jungkook’s Jindogae puppy.

The first few postcards were a little worse for wear. Kimchi hadn’t mastered yet to leave things alone when you commanded him, and the postcards--which were just the perfect size for a puppy to steal from your coffee table--had been punished for the pup’s poor behavior.

You worked harder on Kimchi’s training, and you went out and bought little frames to protect the postcards from any further punishment. You had agonized over which side to display at first--knowing Jungkook, he had really put thought into which postcard image to send--but in the end, you decided that the message was more important than the location. You could always flip them later when you were missing him less.

When a new one arrived, you reread the old ones. After a few weeks, you had most of them memorized. And while you loved and cherished them all, the first one was your favorite. Partly because it was the first and it was a surprise, but partly because it was so different from the others.

The front was a photo of London’s Tower Bridge at dusk, the lights on the supports twinkling in the near-darkness. On the back was an image of the Union Jack with the opacity turned way down. The message was a short and simple “London isn’t the same without you. We miss you a lot. I love you! - Kookie,” but it was how it was written that made you smile. The handwriting was the messiest you had ever seen Jungkook produce. It was almost like he was in a hurry, like it was a last-minute, rushed decision. Like he had seen it at the train station and just had to buy it.

The second had arrived with two friends. One, from Jimin, was a picture of a Scottish Terrier in green and red plaid and simply said “Wish you could have come with us! We met a friendly dog wearing a kilt. You would have loved him.” The second was from Yoongi and had a picture of the Clyde River at sunset on the front. On the back, he told you in a fairly lengthy message about their first of three concerts in Glasgow, how much fun they were having, and how much you would love Scotland. The writing was so tiny you could barely read it, and even then, Yoongi had almost run out of space.

The last one was a cute cartoon of a shaggy-haired Highland cow. On the back, Jungkook’s handwriting was neat this time and evenly spaced. No more rushing. This one was intentional. “We saw these cows in person! They reminded me of your hair in the morning!”

A few days later, a postcard from Amsterdam. The following week, ones from Berlin and Paris. By the time the European leg of the tour ended in Barcelona, you had at least one postcard from each of the six other members. You had started hanging them in the small makeshift office space you had in your living room, 12 in total so far, clustered together in what you hoped was a tasteful display.

The messages were mixed. Some, like the ones from Yoongi and Taehyung, were longer and more thoughtful. Hobi’s was just bright musings about his day and a wish for your wellbeing while they’re away. Namjoon had sent one from Amsterdam that also contained vandalism by Jimin. Jin’s from Paris was simply just a collection of jokes he had picked up along the way. Really, they were all very predictable.

Jungkook’s on the other hand… those were all wildcards. And you wouldn’t have it any other way. In addition to his cow from Glasgow, he had sent you one from Amsterdam in which he mused about clogs and windmills, one from Berlin that was just him saying “I love you” in every language he could think of, one from Paris where he just talked about some ice cream he and Jimin had gotten, and one from Barcelona where he told you how he made some sort of mistake at the concert that he knew he wouldn’t have made had you been there because, in his words, “you always have my back.”

The postcards were chaotic, and stream-of-consciousness, and oh so Jungkook that it made your heart both ache and swell every time you looked at them.

When the boys arrived back in Asia, you could tell immediately just from the postcards you received. Not just the images, either. The messages had an entirely different tone.

From Tokyo, it was a watercolor painting of one of the shrines and a simple message of how much he missed you.

From Osaka, it was a photo of the cherry blossom festival and the desire to make a point to visit to see the flowering trees the following year.

And from Fukuoka, it was from the art museum, and held a promise to take you there as soon as he could because they had works by Roy Lichtenstein and Mark Rothko he and Namjoon both thought you would love to see.

One postcard from Jungkook for every international city the mini-tour stopped in. They had one more concert in Seoul and then he would be home. Unfortunately, they landed early in the morning and then were swept away to rehearse, so you wouldn’t be able to see him until after the concert.

So you sat on your couch, curled up under a blanket, watching reactions to the band’s various music videos and fan compilations on YouTube. It had become one of your favorite pastimes in recent weeks. Currently, you were making your way through one channel’s reactions playlist. Three men sat at a table, two of whom were apparently hip-hop dancers, and they were reacting to “Daechwita.” Clearly they were into it--the two dancers kept making the guy in the middle pause the video so they could rewatch certain bits.

You and Kimchi both jumped at the knock at your door, the dog giving a warning bark, his ears trained towards the door. It was quiet, and then you heard the soft ‘fwip’ of something being slid under your door. Kimchi was up in a second to investigate, and you followed, giving the dog a sharp ‘leave it’ so he wouldn’t destroy whatever it was.

Curious, you bent down to pick it up. It was a piece of thick paper, no more than 16 centimeters in length. Immediately, your heart began to race. It was a postcard. From Seoul.

Kimchi must have sensed your feelings because he gave a confused bark, his attention turned back to the door. You flipped the postcard over. It was blank--no address, no stamp--except for one small line of neat Hangul. “I missed you.”

Without thinking, you opened the door. Kimchi was in the hall in a second, barking at a pair of black combat boots. The man attached to the boots attempted to shush the dog. You laugh as he tried to shoo Kimchi back into the house. His wide eyes met yours then, and he was laughing, too, a smile blazing like wildfire across his lips.

“Kimchi, in,” you commanded the dog sharply, and with one more bark, he retreated into your apartment. You motioned with your head for the man to enter as well. He did as he was told.

As soon as the door was shut, you pulled him to you. He smelled like Downy and vanilla, but also airplane and sweat and rain. His clothes were drenched--was it raining? You hadn’t noticed. His arms wrapped around your waist, holding you to him tightly. You had forgotten how much his hugs felt like home.

A few moments passed as you stood there in your entryway just holding each other. Your mind vacillating between getting lost in him and wandering. Why wasn’t he at the concert? It didn’t matter, because he was here. Did they get rained out? Who cares, he’s home. You felt his lips press against the side of your head.

You pulled back, your hands going to his cheeks, thumbs ghosting against his soft skin. “Jungkook,” you breathed. He smiled softly, his eyes giving away how happy he was to be there.

Silently, you stood there, hands on his face, his own on your waist, as you stared at him, trying to commit him to memory. His hair was longer, the ends turning under slightly as they dried from the rain. His face was a little flushed, though you weren’t sure whether it was from the chilly bite of the late October air or something else.

“Not that I’m not so incredibly glad you’re here,” you began, your eyes meeting his. “But why are you here?”

He laughed, letting go of your waist so he could loosen the laces of his boots. “Rained out. I guess they’ve been having problems with the retractable roof at the stadium.” He shrugged, kicking his boots off haphazardly. Kimchi barked at the noise, running to investigate the shoes. “They’re going to reschedule, I guess?”

You nodded. As soon as his shoes were off, Jungkook pulled you close again, one arm slung over your shoulders as he led you into the living room. You sat on the corner of the couch, and immediately he was leaning into you, nudging your arm up over his shoulders so that you were the one holding him. You could feel him sigh against you, his head falling and resting against yours.

“God, I missed this,” he admitted softly.

“I missed you.” He ducked his head, burying his face in your neck. You felt him smile against your skin, pressing a light kiss there.

With the excitement of him finally being home starting to wear off, you remembered the postcard still clutched in your hand. You made an excited noise and jumped to your feet, scurrying over to your desk. Jungkook protested the lack of contact with a whine, his arms trailing after you as you moved.

He watched you pick up one of the empty frames and slide the postcard into it. “Whatcha doing?”

“Saving it,” you said simply, holding it up to the wall with the others to see where it would look best.

“You framed them?”

“I like them. They’re sweet.”

He laughed, and you could hear him stand and move closer. His arms snaked around your waist, pulling you into his chest. He rested his chin on your shoulder, going silent as he inspected your handiwork. “You really liked them?”

You hummed, placing the newly framed postcard on your desk before reaching up to pat his cheek. “Of course I like them. I missed you guys.”

“Honestly, I don’t even remember sending some of them. We only spent like a day in Amsterdam and Barcelona. I had to grab some of them at the airport.” He squeezed you tighter. “Do you know how hard it is to find a postcard nowadays?”

You spun in his grasp so you were facing him, one hand on his cheek. “Thank you for making the effort.”

Jungkook smiled at you, gentle and sweet. “I will always make the effort for you.”

Read more of the series here

[jemelle]

these are ties that bind (7/8)

you can also find this story on ao3!

fandom: criminal minds

rating: t

(chapter) word count: 2,671

story masterlist / all writing

summary: emily and hotch must pretend to be in a long-term relationship in order to foster carrie. shenanigans and serious conversations alike ensue.

a/n: just the epilogue after this!

seven.

The state of Virginia gave them two day’s notice for the first home visit. Emily cleaned the house from top to bottom the day before, not wanting a single thing to seem out of place. Aaron caught her in the hallway, making sure all the picture frames were hung perfectly straight.

“Emily, we live here.” She stopped fiddling with the frame long enough to look at him. His expression was mostly one of concern, though she could see the occasional flash of amusement.

“I know.” She also knew what he was implying, but the Elizabeth Prentiss-like voice in her head was strong. He was going to have to say it outright.

Aaron, as always, delivered. “They’re not going to expect the house to be perfect.” But my mother always does, she didn’t say. Truthfully, she didn’t think she had to. 

He sat down on a stair, motioning her to join. Emily obliged, leaning absentmindedly towards him once she was settled.

“What’s important to them is that Carrie is healthy and happy. And trust me—“ he said, looking meaningfully in the direction of Carrie’s bedroom. “If she weren’t, she would tell us.”

And wasn’t that the truth. Carrie’s frankness was one of the things that Emily loved most about her. Emily had always been like that, except that only a few had ever cared about what she had to say.

“Okay?” Aaron asked, letting his hand drift over to rest lightly on hers. Emily took a deep breath, silencing the thought that they would be judged for anything less than perfection. The social worker wasn't her mother, and neither, for that matter, was Emily. She had to stop trying to live up to impossible standards.

“Okay.”

Jack came up to the two of them, then, asking for someone to admire his Play-doh creations. Aaron agreed, standing up and glancing at Emily over his shoulder as he was led away, Jack’s small hand clasped in his. Emily sat on the steps for a moment longer, caught in the memories of every time her mother had deemed her lacking. When she rose, it was with the determination that it would never happen again.

(If she caught Aaron meticulously fluffing the couch cushions some hours later, she didn’t say anything.)

~

The social worker’s name was Meghan. She was young, mid-twenties, with honey colored hair and a periwinkle scarf that matched her winter coat. She sat in Emily’s favorite armchair, clutching a mug of tea. Emily had laid out cookies as well, though nobody but Jack had touched them. She might have let go of perfection, but that didn’t erase the need to be polite.

“Can I show you around?” Aaron asked, breaking the silence. Emily knew the whole visit was a formality unless Meghan found something damning, but she couldn’t stop herself from worrying. The smallest thing could give them away, and the state would not be as forgiving as Carrie had been.

“I'll do it,” she found herself saying. She flashed her winningest smile as both Aaron and Meghan turned to look at her. “You stay here and look after Jack and Carrie, honey.”

Aaron’s eyes crinkled slightly at the pet name, which was practically a full-on laugh from him. She smiled openly at him, standing up from the couch and motioning Meghan out of the room with her.

Meghan paused on the stairs, looking at the photos Emily and Aaron had hung there one Sunday. Emily was suddenly painfully aware of the lack of family photos. There were plenty of Jack, of course, and Carrie had allowed some of the photos from her scrapbook to be framed, showing her progression from giggly child to sullen teenager. There was even a photo of Haley holding a baby Jack, but none of the four of them together.

As much as she wanted to offer some excuse about busy schedules and photo-shyness, Emily forced herself to stay quiet. It was the kind of detail a non-profiler wouldn’t necessarily notice, and bringing attention to it might even raise suspicion.

Indeed, Meghan simply resumed climbing the stairs, allowing Emily to take the lead as they toured the second floor. 

“When did you and Aaron meet?” she asked as they exited Carrie's bedroom.

“Aaron and I work together… well, he’s my boss technically,” Emily amended, watching Meghan’s face carefully for any signs that this would count as improper behavior. Seeing none, she went on. We didn’t get along at first, but once we sorted that out the rest was history.”

In reality, Emily wouldn’t describe their problems as history. The two of them were still working on their relationship every day, but that only made it stronger.

As Emily led her around the house, Meghan kept up a steady stream of questions, mostly about Carrie and how she was adjusting. Emily responded as succinctly as possible, though she couldn’t keep the emotion from her voice when describing how they truly had become a family. Eventually, they ended up back in the living room, Emily’s heart melting at the sight of Carrie and Aaron playing with Jack on the floor.

Meghan sat back down in the armchair, refusing Aaron’s offer to bring her another cup of tea. They chatted for a little while longer, Emily suppressing a smile every time Aaron’s answers to Meghan’s questions lined up exactly with hers. Who would have imagined that Emily Prentiss and Aaron Hotchner would one day have a bond like this? Not Emily, that was for sure.

For once, Emily felt secure. They would pass this test, not because they had cheated, but because they really were the best place for Carrie to be. She let herself tune out of the conversation, mind wandering until Meghan leaned slightly out of the chair and said something that snapped her back to reality.

“I hate to ask, but where are your wedding rings?” Shit. Perhaps she was more observant than Emily had given her credit for.

Aaron stepped in before Emily, mind racing, could come up with an explanation. “We’re both federal agents who deal with highly dangerous criminals. Wedding rings would make us an immediate target.” Like any good lie, it was grounded in the truth. Though he had worn a ring when he and Haley were married, it was quite another thing to be married to another agent. A canny unsub who figured out their relationship could put the whole team in jeopardy.

Meghan nodded sympathetically, though Emily wasn’t sure she was totally convinced. “That must be difficult, having to hide your relationship.” 

Emily found her voice: “We have Jack and Carrie and each other, and that’s what really matters.”

It was terribly sappy, but also the truth. 

If she didn’t believe them, Meghan was smart enough not to say anything, simply nodding before moving to the next topic. “I just need to speak to Carrie alone in the hallway, and then we’ll be finished!” she chirped, and the two of them exited the room, Carrie holding the door on the way out. 

The moment they were gone, Emily turned to Aaron. No wedding pictures and no rings. If one slipup was dangerous, two seemed to guarantee failure. Still, Meghan was looking for abuse, not marital fraud. They could still pull this off. They just needed to take the final step.

In an almost laughably perfect demonstration of their connection, Aaron, without prompting, voiced her thoughts exactly: “We need to get married.”

~

The wedding day dawned bright and cold, a light dusting of snow covering the ground. For once, Emily was the first one awake, though she was content to lie in bed, Aaron’s solid warmth next to her. When he began to stir, opening and closing his bleary eyes, she slipped out from the under the covers, heading for the kitchen.

Carrie was already there, eating cereal and reading the Sunday comics. Emily bustled around the kitchen, making conversation and coffee and trying to ignore the small knot in her stomach. Getting married was just a formality, a legal recognition of what they already had.

Coffee ready, Emily poured mugs for her and Aaron and sat down at the kitchen table across from Carrie, taking slow sips while she waited for it to cool. Eventually, Aaron and Jack joined them, and the four of them sat together, enjoying the silence before splitting up to get dressed.

Emily had already picked out her outfit, pulling an unworn sky-blue dress from deep within her closet. She thought wearing white might have been a little too on the nose with regards to the sanctity of their marriage. Aaron, in contrast, was wearing a tuxedo that Emily strongly suspected was the same one he had worn to his first wedding. 

Jack and Carrie were dressed in complementary outfits they had bought on a recent trip to the mall, the navy blue polka dots of Jack’s socks and bow tie matching the pattern of Carrie’s dress. 

“Do a spin?” Emily asked when they had reassembled in the living room, and Carrie obliged, her skirt flaring out as she laughed.

JJ met them at the courthouse doors, passing a wrapped present over to Emily before she could protest. Though they didn’t technically need a witness, JJ had been invited nonetheless. She was still the only one who knew the true circumstances of their situation, though Emily supposed it was only a matter of time before someone else (probably Penelope) figured it out. 

Even if the team had known, Emily wasn’t sure she would have wanted to invite the entire team. They were family, more than her own had ever been, but it would inevitably transform the wedding into an event of epic proportions. Neither her nor Aaron were much for parties; the current plan was to be in and out as fast as possible, hopefully early enough to have lunch somewhere in Arlington.

When their names were called, they entered a small courtroom. JJ and Carrie and Jack sat down on the first row of benches as Emily and Aaron approached the magistrate. Emily reached out and wrapped her hand lightly around Aaron’s. His answering squeeze grounded her, a reminder of why they were there. 

The magistrate began speaking. “Ladies... and gentleman,” he said, inclining his head towards Jack, “we are gathered here today to witness the joining of Emily Elizabeth Prentiss and Aaron Arthur Hotchner in the bonds of matrimony.”

Arthur as in ‘Arthur Sullivan of Gilbert and Sullivan’, he had admitted when she’d asked while filling out the wedding forms. Haley and I picked it out when I changed my name after college.

Elizabeth as in ‘I carry the weight of my mother with me wherever I go,’ she had responded, only half joking.

“Marriage is a matter that should not be entered into lightly,” the magistrate continued, looking at each of them in turn. “I trust the two of you have thought about what marriage means to you, and that you stand now, ready to offer a life-long commitment based on love, trust and respect.” 

Emily glanced back. Jack was focused on swinging his legs against the bench, but Carrie met her gaze and smiled softly. Emily returned the smile. She knew for the first time in her life what commitment really meant to her, the promise to be there for the good days and the bad.

“I would ask you to please join hands, but I can see that you’ve jumped the gun a little with that one.” He chuckled slightly at his own joke, pausing briefly before beginning again. “Do you, Emily, take Aaron to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness or in health, to love and to cherish, until death do you part?”

As he spoke, Emily saw first Hotch and then Aaron in her mind’s eye. She saw the man who rarely cracked a smile and the one who would do anything for Jack and Carrie. The one who would never admit to weakness, and the one she had found passed out on the bathroom floor. They seemed to have nothing in common, and yet they both cared so deeply, so selflessly, even to the point where it began to hurt them. Even when she was in the wrong, he cared, expecting nothing in return except a promise to try and do better next time.

When Emily said “I do,” it was a vow to Aaron Hotchner, the sum of all his parts and nothing less.  

The magistrate repeated the vows, looking expectantly at Aaron when he finished. Emily had a brief vision of Aaron refusing to say the words, deciding that he was finished, that enough was enough, but she pushed it away almost as soon as it appeared. He had earned her trust, proven time and time again that he would be there.

“I do,” Aaron said, turning to look at her with that signature Hotch intensity, the sternness all but replaced with warmth.

“The rings?” 

Aaron produced the velvet box from his jacket pocket, opening it to retrieve the rings. They were a matching set, plain silver bands that they had picked out together. No rings in the field, of course, but Emily had wanted one nonetheless, something to remind her of their partnership even while separated. Aaron had agreed, and though Emily had watched him carefully for signs that he was simply conceding to make her happy, she had found none. 

The bands were inscribed, the one sentimentality they had settled for. As well as being a fitting quote, it also came from one of Emily’s favorite movies, one she had watched over and over. Almost cloyingly sentimental, it still never failed to move her deeply to hear the words come out of Robin Williams’s mouth: “But if there's love, dear... those are the ties that bind, and you'll have a family in your heart, forever.”

a family in your heart, forever. That was the etching on the rings, and those were words Emily hoped would always ring true.

Aaron slipped the ring on her finger. It was cool against her skin, the feel of it making her unexpectedly emotional. Blinking away tears, Emily slid his ring on in turn, looking down briefly at his hands before returning her gaze to his face.

“With this ring I marry you and pledge my love, honor and devotion,” the magistrate prompted. They repeated the words dutifully, knowing that all those things had been promised long before this ceremony.

“By the authority vested in me by the laws of the State of Virginia, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.” Once upon a time, Emily would have recoiled, but she let Aaron pull her close, knowing he wouldn’t do anything she wasn’t comfortable with. Sure enough, he simply pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek.

“You did it,” he whispered. Emily leaned back so she could see his face fully, his smile filling her with warmth.

“We did it,” she said. This time, she didn’t try to hide her tears.

 JJ snapped a picture of them on the courthouse steps. Emily held Jack in her arms, letting him pull at her dress, while Aaron stood next to her, arm around a beaming Carrie. The snow began to fall again as they stood there, a picture-perfect wonder.

Years later, Emily was trying to find a file that she was sure had been on JJ’s desk when her elbow caught one of the framed family photos. When she propped it back up, Emily realized it was the wedding photo, tucked in between a picture of Henry on his first day of school and a photo the whole team had taken on Halloween. She was touched by the fact that JJ thought it had been a moment worth remembering in and of itself; Emily had always loved the photo because she knew what it had taken to get there.

taglist: @robins-gf @catgrantknows

[thethoughtsfromthreeam]

Monument Woman

Pairing: Marcus Pike x OC (Rosemary Carter)

Warnings: A bit of angst

A/N: Sort of trucking along, now into chapter 4, which gets us into the meat of this whole story, so I guess this sorta qualifies as a slow burn?  Not sure.  Anyway, enjoy!

Reminder: I ain’t ever seen Pedro Pascal in FUCK ALL, I’m just coming up with this as I go along, using imdb.com, wiki, and 84,000 tabs I got open to plan out this shit.  I also write soft versions of his characters so if you’re craving asshole vibes, I ain’t got any but my own to offer.

Tag List:

@zeldasayer , @beskars , @coolmaybelateruniverse , @the-feckless-wonder , @pascalisthepunkest , @mandoandyodito , @randomness501 , @fioccodineveautunnale  , @ahopelessromanticwritersworld , @lilkermit14 [please message me to be added or subtracted]

Part 2 – Well, It’s Valuable for Starters

Coral Gables Restaurant sits right on the banks of the Kalamazoo River, serving as the perfect backdrop to any lunch or dinner date.  It was Robert’s favorite place to eat and the whole staff knew him.  So, lunch dates for the two history buffs could last hours and no one would say anything to them.

Long after the lunch plates had been taken away, Robert nursed his beer and Rosemary leaned back in her chair, letting the early summer sun warm her skin.  As she sat there with her eyes closed, Robert let himself just watched her.  She was tall with a brunette pixie cut – the only hair style he’s ever seen her sport – and he noted there was greyer hair than when they first met and finer lines on the youthful face.

She took up a lot of space with her personality and that’s what he loved best about her.  Of all the people Robert called his friends, none were close to him like she was. When he met her not long after she started at the museum and it was an almost instant rapport.

He never had children of his own, never even gotten married.  But something about Rosemary drew him to her and he felt this love for her like he hadn’t ever felt for anyone else in his nearly seventy-two years.  When the doctor gave him the prognosis, he realized the sadness that had washed over him wasn’t about his death but the fact that he had someone he was leaving behind. It both hurt and consoled him.  He wasn’t going to be alone.

“Rosie.”  His voice was soft, but she still heard him and opened her eyes.  He smiled at her and she sat up and nodded, pulling her chair closer so she was more comfortable to chat.  The waitress appeared with refills for Rosemary’s lemonade and another beer for Robert.  They stayed quiet until she left.  When they were alone again, she raised her eyebrow and gestured for him to continue.

“If there are things in those boxes that you can sell for the museum, go for it.  There are a few I want the museum to have and one item it needs to take.”

“Well, I doubt I’ll take anything that will cause me extra work, but we can draw up the deed of gift on the other items as normal.  I already have my eye on a few things, which are probably among what you are already giving us.”  He nodded. “What’s the item you want us to take for sure?”

“The Cornucopia.”  Her eyebrow raised in confusion at the comment.  “It’s a priceless art piece, a friend of mine valued it at three-quarters of a million dollars. On the low end of things.”

“WHAT?” Rosemary’s jaw dropped.  Holy shit.

“I know, I was surprised it valued so high as well.  I bought it at an antique shop in Chicago years ago and given how valuable it is, I want the museum to have it.”

“Uh, hell yeah!”  Rosemary’s eyes began to gleam with glee and Robert laughed.  He knew she was thinking of Fred and he was pleased he could help her get a leg up on the man.  While Breyers had never been anything but courteous towards the storeowner, there was an underlying hostility to the curator’s words and actions.  Something about the greedy curator never sat well with Robert and he shared in Rosemary’s dislike of him.  

“When we head back to the house after lunch, we’ll talk more.”  The two sat back and grinned at each other.

---***---

“But, ma’am. . . Ma’am. . .” Agent Horacio paused, the murderous look on their face not even showing up in their voice.  “Ma’am, I get what you are saying.  I’m asking you to set up a meeting with me to go over the case. Yes, we reopened it.  Yes, we’re working on it.  Now if you would just. . .”

The ever-patient voice of the agent faded into the background as Carmichael skirted the table with a handful of photos, a small smirk on her face. She walked up next to Pike as they filled the evidence board with the last of the pictures from the case files.  A second and third board were set up on the other side of the room, allowing the team to make further critical connections to the cases they had so recently linked together.

They worked quietly for a bit, Carmichael subtly shooting glances at Pike, whose brow was furrowed in concentration.  Finally, her curiosity got the better of her and she turned to look at her partner.

“Okay, spill.  How did the date go with Lucy in Accounting?” Her voice dropped to a whisper belying the eager look on her face.  Pike grimaced at the question as he pressed on the last of the push pins.

“There was no date. She stood me up.”  Her loud gasp caused a few of their team to look their way, but she ignored them, giving Pike a look to continue.  “I called twice, and she never answered.  Never even showed up to the date itself.  I don’t think I can go back to Bobby’s anymore.  Lindsey is starting to feel sorry for me.”

“Hell, I feel sorry for you, Pike.  That’s the third date you’ve been stood up on in, what? Two months?” Carmichael’s voice softened.  The poor man was having a rough time of it, what with Lisbon breaking his heart, his divorce before that, three failed short-term relationships after he came to D.C., and now this series of no-show dates over the last year.  She frowned and laid a hand on his wrist, which had stilled on the last pin as his words died on his tongue.

He didn’t look at her and she could feel him stiffen underneath her touch. He pushed down his growing frustration at the situation and turned to smile at her, the grin not coming close to reaching his eyes.  His shoulders squared up as if to say the conversation was done.  She had known the man for six years and just wanted him to be happy, but for the moment, she gave him a small smile to help him with his charade.

“It’s okay Carmichael, maybe I’m just not meant for a relationship.” His voice sounded almost sad at the tone and she bowed her head.

“I don’t think that’s true, Marcus.”

“Yeah, well the universe is working hard to tell me that I’m meant to be single. I should be listening instead of fighting it.”  He sighed and turned away, walking out of the room before anyone could comment on the large frown that had formed on his face.  She looked after him, a defeated look in her eyes.  No one loved as hard and as loyal as him, he deserved the world. She knew that the right person for him was out there, but she couldn’t understand why Pike hadn’t crossed paths with his soulmate yet.  

She turned back to the board, picking up the marker to begin labeling the photos they had posted.  While she wrote, she silently prayed to the universe that her partner’s heart found its home sooner rather than later.

-*-

Pike looked at himself in the mirror, droplets of water still on his skin and the strands of hair framing his face were damp.  Splashing water on his face helped cool down his skin, but Carmichael’s words of sympathy had stung, even if she meant well, and he had to leave the room before he got upset even more.  As he leaned against the sink, he bowed his head and took a few deep breaths. The small moment of zen from earlier in the day had faded and the headache had returned.

It was known that the agent wore his heart on his sleeve, that he was loyal and generous to a fault.  Most of his colleagues loved him for it and it inspired loyalty from those who worked under him.  But none of that seemed to translate into anything romantically successful.  At this point, he was certain that he was a running joke throughout D.C. and that women agreed to a date to see how long he’d wait at his favorite diner for someone to show up.

Last night, Lindsey comped his dinner because she just couldn’t take the defeated slump to the man’s shoulders one more time.  She even went home and hugged her wife, hoping a little of her joviality would seep into her bones.  If Pike knew that, he would have bitterly laughed at the idea that he can help other people love harder, he just couldn’t get people to love him back.

After letting the dark thoughts swirl through his brain for a little longer, he stood up straight and glanced into the mirror.  He wiped his face one more time and straightened his tie. Without looking back at his reflection, Marcus Pike vowed to himself that he wasn’t going to let anyone in anymore. He was here to catch art thieves and that’s what he was going to do.

He just prayed the yearning in his heart heard the declaration, too.

---***---

Rosemary huffed as she staggered up the walkway to the front door of the museum with the heavy box in her arms.  She cursed herself for thinking that she could carry such an awkward and heavy load by herself, but she was a stubborn mule and was determined to get it all done in one trip.  She sighed when she reached the top of the short staircase.

She reached out and kicked the frame of the door into the building knowing that their long-time volunteer, Bob, was at the front desk.  There was something about him that grated against Rosemary and if truth be told, he was a bad volunteer, but he was the only reliable one and so she had to put up with him and his nonsense.

She realized with a start that she’d been standing there for several minutes, and no one had come to the door.  She peeped through the glass and saw Bob sitting there, looking her way. Grimacing as she shifted the box, she kicked the door again, harder this time.

And he still didn’t move.

With a low growl, Rosemary shifted around and pressed her butt against the handicap button on the wall and with a sigh of relief, she walked through the now open door.  While the June day wasn’t particularly hot, the sun was still warm and the physical activity overheated her.  The cool air of the lobby felt like kisses of heaven on her skin and she slightly closed her eyes at the sensation.  When she opened them, she looked directly at the man in front of her.

“Bob, did you see me kicking the door?”

“Yep.”

“So why didn’t you come open it for me, you clearly saw my hands were full.”

“Kicking is rude.”  The man’s rheumy eyes stared at her and it took two deep breaths to ensure Rosemary wasn’t going to start screaming.  She gave him a tightened smile instead and she walked over to the elevator. “Rosemary, the elevator is for handicap people, you’re not handicapped.”

“Bob, the elevator is for everyone.  Goodbye!”  She entered the small space and leaned against the wall.  We need him, we need him, we need him, she chanted to herself, nothing convincing her that it was true.  The ride to the third floor was a short one, but the heavy box made it seem longer.  When the doors opened, she took a left down to the staff offices and her workspace.

She did her best to carefully set the box down on the bench, but she grimaced as she heard rattling inside.  When it didn’t sound like anything broke, she heaved a sigh of relief. She turned her head as she heard footsteps from the hallway and within moments, Helen enter the room.

“How did it go?”  She had a small smile on her face, coming closer to the work bench

“Not bad, I took one big box of stuff – good stuff, too.”  The curator grinned and Helen grinned back, curiosity all over her face.

“Nothing ugly?”

“God no.  As my grams liked to say, ‘God don’t like ugly.’”  She lifted the lid off the box and suddenly Rosemary screamed, scaring Helen and causing her to scream, too.  The latter jumped back towards the door, unsure of what was happening.  The sounds of the two women yelling echoed in the room until the scream Rosemary let out evolved into a laugh, tinged with adrenaline. “FUCKING ROBERT!”

“WHAT? WHAT? WHAT?”  Helen was now on edge and creeping back closer to the work bench, still wary. Rosemary reached into the box and lifted out the stuff monkey she passed over earlier.  Helen recoiled at the sight.

“I thought you said you didn’t bring back anything ugly!”

“I didn’t!  He must have put it in here after I told him it was worthy of the dumpster.”  The laughter continued as she looked at the stuffed animal.  Finally, she sighed and set the monkey down on the bench.

“You’re not putting it in the collections are you?”  The director still looked at the item with wariness.  It was truly ugly with its almost realistic eyes. She shuttered before looking away.

“No, but I’m going to keep it, though.  He’d probably make a better watch dog than Banana.”  Looking around, Rosemary turned to her boss.  “Speaking of which, where is that dog of mine?”

“He’s in your office, conked out on the couch and snoring away.”

“See?!  I need the monkey now.  My own dog, of whom I am his whole world, didn’t even come hither at my screams.  I am abandoned and unloved.”  Rosemary ended her dramatic comment on a sigh, her hand against her forehead.  The two women began to laugh again.

“By the way, please for the love of all that is holy, find someone to replace Bob at the front desk.  He watched me kick the door to get in and refused to get up.”

“Did he say why?”

“Yeah, ‘kicking is rude.’”  Rosemary mimicked the old man’s gravelly voice and rolled her eyes. Helen patted her shoulder and said she’d chat with Bob about it, but the curator didn’t have much faith in the forth-coming conversation.  The director left the room and Rosemary dove back into the box to pull out the rest of her treasures.

---***---

“Here is the paperwork on the history of The Cornucopia. Please promise me that you’ll list this as a restricted item.”  Robert sat down, a file folder in his hand.  “I know better than to make outrageous demands, but I want it in the paperwork that this item cannot be loaned out, it cannot be displayed, and it is to remain the collections for the rest of the museum’s existence.  I don’t even want it announced that you have the piece.”

He took a breath and Rosemary’s eyebrows furrowed.  He hadn’t been kidding when he said he had restrictions on the item.  He continued.

“The piece is valuable; I don’t want the museum becoming a target for it. I’m giving it to you because I know you’ll protect it.”  Rosemary nodded as she thumbed through the file, skimming the history of the sculpture. She looked up at him.

“Let me write up the deeds for you and we’ll note everything you want me to list in terms of restrictions.”  She got up and went to her computer set up on the table.  For the next hour, she sat asking Robert questions and filling out the forms, using the printer to create physical copies. After she was done, she sat back.

“We’ll take good care of it.  I promise.”

---***---

The next day, Rosemary sat at her desk, imputing the new collection pieces into PastPerfect, transcribing notes she had scribbled in her binder.   Most of the pieces she had taken were worth it; besides the map, she took a few pieces of pottery from a celebrated local artist, a couple of prints that dated back to the Fort’s early years, seven quilts, and several history books.  And of course, The Cornucopia.

She pulled the file out for the sculpture and sat back in her chair. After opening the folder, she began to read the files she had skimmed earlier.  The more she read the appraiser’s history more her eyebrows crawled up her forehead.

The Cornucopia was created for Russian Tsar Nicolas II by renown Ukrainian artists Artem Chumak.  The bronze sculpture was inlaid with rubies, sapphires, yellow diamonds, jade, pearls, and opals, most mined from around the Russian Empire.  Ukraine historically has been known as the breadbasket of Russia and the piece was commissioned by the Ukrainian government as a gift to Nicolas upon his marriage to Princess Alexandra of Hess.  It’s value at the time of creation was $250,000 USD.

It is known that Dowager Empress Maria took the piece, along with several other valuable items after the fall of the Empire and she sold it to the Grand Duke of Luxembourg in 1920, who in turn loaned it to the country’s National Museum of History and Art the following year. The museum returned it to the family during World War II to protect it from the advancing German army.  It was again loaned to the museum for another twenty years before the family chose to cease ownership.

The piece was then sold via Sotheby’s Auction House in 1965 to a private collector in the U.S. and has remained in private ownership since then.  Because of its history and the materials used, the value of The Cornucopia is approximately $750,000 for insurance purposes, but on the auction block, could fetch upwards to . . .

“Three million dollars?!”  Rosemary shrieked, her feet dropping to the floor as she sat up.  She looked at the sculpture sitting on her worktable and her face broke out in a grin.  Oh, ho ho ho, she really got the leg up on Fred Breyers this time.  This was the best gift that Robert could have ever given her.

[lavenderbones22]

Video Games - Ben Hardy

Summary: Ben's obsessed with his new video game and his girlfriend must find a way to get his attention back to her.

Requested: 'Hey👋🏼 I was wondering if you could do an imagine with Ben where you're sitting on his lap while he plays fifa or something, this is vague sorry!'

Word Count: 2314

A/N Okay....I had this sitting in my drafts...haven’t posted in a while, let me know what you guys think! love xxx

PS. It wouldn’t let me post a gif...weird.

--------

The sounds of Fifa echoed through our apartment. Crowd cheers, commentator voices, Ben swearing and complaining. This had been going on for five days straight now and I'd had enough.

I was sat on the edge of the sofa rolling a joint on the coffee table. It was nearly one in the morning and thankfully neither of us had work tomorrow (or today really). I was a little drunk on red wine and high from smoking half the joint that Ben hadn't finished. I was tired too, but also horny.

"For fucks sake!" My boyfriends voice bellowed down the hall in frustration. He was honestly being crazy about this game. Maybe I should call his mum?

I fell back onto the forrest green velvet sofa that my mum had bought us when we moved into this place a year ago. It was my favourite thing to suck Ben's dick on. I fiddled with the perfectly rolled joint between my fingers. I relied on this stuff too much these days. I should cut back.

But not tonight.

Reaching over to the arm of the sofa for my baby pink lighter, I placed the spliff between my lips and brought the flame to it. The burn to the back of my throat as I inhaled the smoke eased me.

"Right," I said out loud to myself. "Ben!" I called out, standing up, wobbling, catching myself-giggling. "More fucked than I thought," I mumbled absentmindedly whilst meandering towards my lover.

"Ben," I attempted to gain his attention again when I reached the doorway of the study. Watching him I couldn't help but smile. Eyes wide with focus, biting his lip in concentration. He always did that whenever he was paying particular attention to something. The lip bite on those perfect, plump lips made me wet.

He still hadn't acknowledged me after a minute, so without another thought I sat myself down on his lap. "B-babe," he groaned, eyes still glued to the television, fingers to the controller. I threw my arm around his neck, my spliff moving back and forth to my lips in the other as I continued to puff away.

"Are you losing?" I asked, bringing the joint to his lips where he inhaled sharply.

"Mmm."

"Then why are you still playing?"

No response.

"Ben," my fingers delicately glided along his neck and although he tried to hide it, I felt him shiver under my touch. "Then why are you playing?" I asked again, a lowered voice this time.

The sounds of the game and the clicking of his fingers on the controls resonated around the small room. The study was one of my favourite places of our small Notting Hill apartment. The walls were adorned in bookshelves and black and white framed photos of bands from the seventies and eighties. I was a huge glam rock fan, Queen being a vice of mine, so you could imagine my excitement when Ben called to tell me he had gotten the part of Roger Taylor in the movie.

My fingers slid from his neck up into his hair, a shiver again.

"Do you like that?" I whispered into his ear, kissing just under it.

The sounds of the controller were getting less frequent. I was getting to him.

In between turning my boyfriend on, I shared the spliff with him, reaching the end quicker than anticipated. Dropping the roach on the ground carelessly, my lips attached themselves to the soft skin along Ben's neck. Licking, biting, sucking, everything to make him forget this stupid fucking game.

"Give up yet?" I murmured against his skin. Both hands were now wrapped around his neck whilst I still sat on his lap, both legs to the side of him. I wanted to straddle him desperately but his hands holding the remote like it was life or death if he didn't, prevented me from doing that.

I could feel his dick growing underneath me so whatever he said to convince me he wasn't turned on now was completely redundant.

"What would you rather do Ben?" I sighed, agitated. His lack of response to me was insulting now. "Me or the game?"

His green orbs met mine briefly, moving back to the television. At my wits end I grabbed the controller and threw it on the ground.

"Hey!" Ben's voice was a pitch higher than usual. "D'ya really have to do that?"

I raised my brows, unimpressed. "Did I really have to do that?" I threw back at him.

"Yeah..."

"You've been ignoring me for days now! I'm over it Ben. Any other girl with sense would have left you to fuck your video game console for christ sake!"

He tried to stifle a laugh at my ridiculous comment.

"Shut up," I slapped his arm playfully before he grabbed me tight around my waist and kissed me hard.

"Better?" He asked, his voice now lowering as his attention was fully turning to me.

"Much better," I smirked.

"Get up then," his hands guided my body off of his lap, as I stood a tap to my bum made me chuckle. "Lemme just turn it off and we'll go to bed," he told me, leaning down to turn his game off and pack the controller away.

"What's so good about it anyway?" I questioned as I raised my arms into the air stretching my back.

"Dunno really," Ben shrugged, looking over his shoulder at me from his spot on the floor. "Just love playing it."

"Well it's time you play something else," I winked at the gorgeous man in front of me who was now raised to his full height, a cheeky smirk plastered on his face as he walked closer and picked me up so I could wrap my arms and legs around his body.

"I love playing that game," he began with light kisses to my neck. "But I fucking love playing you even more."

He carried me into our bedroom, throwing me down on the bed recklessly, giggles flying out from between my lips. Ben was stood in the middle of the bedroom on the red patterned rug we had adorning the floorboards. Ben hated floorboards but I for one loved them. His compromise when he wanted to remove them to put carpet down was that we put a rug in the middle of all the rooms he would have preferred carpet. Although I would never indulge him in knowing I thought it was a good idea, I really loved the coziness it brought to our little townhouse.

"Come here," I beckoned him with one slender finger. He shook his head, laughing, and pulled his sweater over his head taking his t-shirt with it. His ripped chest was exposed, a sight that never got old for me to look at. I must have bit my lip, licked my lips or something suggestive because Ben's face turned animalistic and before I even could process the thought, he'd stripped the rest of his clothes off and was on top of me.

"God you're sexy," his voice breathed heavily into my ear where he was kissing up and down the side of my neck. "So, so sexy." Travelling down my body ever so lightly. I was itching for him to rip my clothes off.

"Touch me, Ben," I begged. "Be rough...you know I love it like that." I was whining and I didn't even care. I'd been so fucking annoyed at his obsession over that stupid game that I'd held out on him for the past few days. We hadn't had sex and what annoyed me even more than not having sex was the fact that Ben hadn't seemed to notice.

"Baby you don't need to tell me how you like it," he croaked, his rough hands that had become rougher recently from all his drumming pulled at my singlet and bra straps. "I know your body like the back of my hand." I shuffled myself around in order to help him remove my clothes easier which after a second he managed to do and threw them across the room.

I arched my back, grinding my still clothed hips into his not-so clothed ones. His erection was huge, pulsing and poking right into me. His moans were drowned out by my nipples that his tongue was appreciating at a rather nice pace. One hand cupped my lonely breast while the other creeped its way down into my pants.

Ben knew how to tease me better than anybody I had encountered before him. He was rough and intense but always knew the juxtaposition that I loved which was him being slow and sensitive right before he fucked me senseless.

I kept telling Ben how much I was enjoying him and what he was doing to me. My words seem to fall onto deaf ears though as he continued to be silent, still endlessly appreciating my body. I supposed I couldn't complain too much, he was about to unleash his inner beast on me and by god was I ready for it.

My hands were ravaging his hair while he undid the buttons and zip of my jeans, pulling them down my tanned legs, pressing a soft kiss to my saturated panties now thanks to his delicious fingers.

Kicking my jeans off Ben pushed them to the corner of the bed in a crumpled heap. Leaning on his shins, he rubbed the outside of my soaked panties purposely pressing harder on my clit that was incredibly swollen by now. I could feel myself throbbing. I could also see Ben throbbing right in front of me, his rock hard dick standing practically on it's own by how turned on he was. Leaning over me, he grinned while he kissed from the middle of my chest down to my belly button.

"Ben please," I begged, arching my back into him more.

"Calm baby," he soothed me, putting his finger to my lips. My neediness subsided for a moment when I took a second to admire him naked before me. The soft glow of the fairy lights that wrapped around our bedhead made him shine in an almost angelic way. It was a warm, orangey glow that illuminated him like he was sent from the heavens. And he kind of was.

His lips that were always so pouty and pink looked even more so in this light. Those lips, fuck. They had been in every single place on my body and I needed them there once more.

"You're so fucking wet," he pressed his finger harder against me pushing a small yelp from me, a squelching sound too coming from my pussy. "You're soaking my fingers even through these panties."

"Then rip them off of me," I dared him, an evil smirk released on his face right before he did just that; ripped them right off my body.

His lips were against me, tongue delving right where I needed it within seconds, lapping at my folds and bringing me as quick as he always did to my orgasm.

I couldn't control the erratic movements of my body as I writhed underneath his strong forearms that he was using in a failed attempt to keep me still. His fingers were opening me up to him fully so that my clit was completely exposed and at the helm of the pleasure train he was currently driving through my body.

"Fuck Ben," I cried, pulling at strands of his blonde locks making him groan in response. "Fuck yeah, nearly there...like that!" I coaxed him running my feet along the curves of his gorgeous ass and up along his lower back.

My piercing screams electrocuted the air when I finally let go and came screaming like a banshee. I could feel Ben smiling as he continued licking me out through my come down obviously very pleased with the result.

"Good?" He asked, sitting up and watching me try to catch my breath.

"What do you think, Einstein?" I rolled my eyes playfully, running my hands through my hair.

Ben laughed and gripped my hips, indicating he wanted me on my stomach. "Over," he demanded simply, yet incredibly animalistic. Giggling, I did as told but not before he pressed his lips to mine.  I could taste me on him; a mix of sweetness and Ben.

I felt him lining himself up against me and a shiver ran through my body in anticipation. Uncontrollably, a moan left my lips as he placed his rock hard dick inside of me. I honestly felt like I was floating. The feeling of us being connected every time was magical,  unlike anything I'd ever experienced with any other guy I'd been with before.

We both moaned simultaneously, the feeling of us united as one almost too much after the short time I'd held out on the boy. I'd never forget the first time we had sex. The sexual tension that had radiated between us until we finally fucked and connected in a physical form was mind blowing.

It hurt in the best way possible as he pulled out almost completely then pushed back into me as hard as he could.

"Fuck," I whined in pleasure, writhing beneath his body, my head hanging between my shoulders trying to control the pleasure he was delivering me.

His lips connected to the side of my neck as he licked along it, leaving little kisses and bites. I would be littered with bruises in the morning.

The moans and groans that left my lips every time Ben thrusted into me, hard, fast and passionately over and over again; they were not human.

We went at it for a good while until Ben quite literally collapsed on top of me.

"You need to stop playing that game so much," I told him, out of breath.

"I think I need to keep playing it if this is what it makes you do!"

Cheeky shit.

[fanfictsbehereyall]

#10 : Movieverse

Summary:

Zane and Morro just want to have a fun weekend together at Morro's house but one of the family members that live there turn out to surprise our ninja boi and goth baby.

( What even are summaries? Idk, haha )

**~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Tick-tock-tick-tock

'Ugh, when is this class going to end? I just want to get started on my lazy weekend,' Lloyd thought to himself as he looked around the classroom at his friends. Kai was sitting in front of him passed out on his desk, Jay was to his left furiously writing down notes in his signature chicken scratch, Cole was sitting behind him with music blaring from his headphones, and Zane was zipping up his backpack.

'Huh, why is zane already packed?'

Tick-tock-Ring!

The final bell chimed through the classroom and kids were quick to shove there textbooks and notebooks into their bags. But, not as fast as Zane who was already heading out of the door saying a quick goodbye to the others with a big smile on his face.

"Hey guys, we don't have any special ninja training today, right?" Lloyd whispered to the others, " 'Cause Zane just bolted out the door like there was no tomorrow."

"Naw, Sensei Wu told us himself that we deserve a little brake," Cole said while scrolling through his phone's playlist.

"Yeah, Zane's just been very swift with his getaways from school and training recently," Kai added.

"Maybe it has to do with his real human boy stuff that he always goes on about," Jay said as he adjusted his long orange scarf.

Lloyd thought through it and simply said," Well whatever it is, I hope Zane is having fun."

*~~~*

Zane sprinted towards the train station, not wanting to be late. He darted through crowds of people and slid down the stair railing that lead to the departure platform. He quickly scanned his ticket at the gate and slid into the first car that was readily available. The door instantly closes and the train is off.

The usual skyscrapers and bustling metropolis slowly started to fade into more of an urban setting with small neighborhoods filled with big houses. Little kids could be seen playing in the streets and teens could be seen heading into a mall. Not soon after did the cul-de-sacs started to trickle out of view and a more rural landscape shined through the window.

The train came to a stop and Zane could only see tall grass for miles. The sky was a crisp dark blue as the sun started to set. He stepped out of the train to be greeted by strong hug. Zane could instantly tell it was Morro as a long streak of green hair popped out from the rest of the black locks.

Morro squeezed even harder as he sent them in a little twirl, "I thought you missed the train again."

"I would never want to miss any of our dates," Zane replied holding onto Morro for a few more seconds, basking at how beautiful he looked in his gothic attire, before asking, "What do you have planned tonight?"

"I was thinking that we could go to my house and you could stay over, if you want to that is," Morro said pulling Zane towards his parked car, a dark blush on his cheeks,"and, you know, finally be able to meet Gramps."

"I would love to spend the night with you and meet this famous Grandfather of yours," Zane said with a light blush on his cheeks.

"Perfect! Let's go" Morro said, and they drove off into the countryside.

*~~~*

Morro had a cute little Japanese styled home placed on an acre of land. Cherry blossom trees were scattered about the front of the house, and a calming flow of water could be hear coming from the koi pond on the side of the house.

"Wow, your house is very beautiful," Zane said as Morro pulled into the gravel driveway.

"Not as beautiful as me, right?" Morro quipped while getting out of the car, a big smirk on his face.

"Oh nothing can compare to your beauty my love," Zane exaggerates, an even bigger smirk plastered on his face.

"Hehe, you better mean that," Morro said as he opened the front door, and then shouting, "Hey Gramps I have someone you should meet!"

Morro took Zane's hand and guided him through the house, first taking off their shoes at the front. The dark wood floors were clean and sparkling, the walls filled with different kinds of framed photos from all around Ninjago's landscape and buildings. They both headed to the living room and took a seat on the couch, Morro practically draping himself over Zane. Zane looked around at the plethora of photos on the wall next to the TV.

"Your photos are very alluring," Zane commented as he relaxed further into the couch hold Morro in a more comfortable position.

"Oh you sap, you told me the same thing the first time we met," Morro said with a loving tone in his voice while leaning in closer to Zane.

"I'll never forget that fateful day," Zane said who was also leaning into Morro's advances.

"Ahem."

Zane instantly shot up from the couch, inadvertently knocking Morro off, and sharply pushing his body into a crisp bow as he said, "Sensei Wu!"

"Sensei?" was all Morro could say while still lying on the floor.

"No need for formality Zane, you are not my student but a house guest tonight," Sensei Wu said as he held out his cane to help Morro get off the floor, "so tell me, how did you two meet?"

"Well, remember when I had to go into the city to get camera fix a few weeks ago…"

*~~~*

The sun was shining bright, but Morro's attitude was sour. He thought about how he had to wake up earlier that day to try and take a wonderful photo of the sunrise on the horizon. Taking his car out into the freezing night and hiking about three miles out into the woods, just to set up his tripod on a cliff and for a bird to attack him, which caused him to trip over his camera and break it!

'Aaaaahhhhh, this is so frustrating!' Morro thought as he walked around the city, waiting for his camera to be fixed at some father-and-son tech shop. His phone instantly buzzed and looking down at the text, Morro got excited as he thought, 'Yes, they're finally done!'

Morro ran back to the shop and was very tempted to just bust through the door. But, before he got to the shop's window, he calmed down as much as he could and lightly opened the door, a lite ding could be heard from a bell above. And, as Morro looked over towards the counter, he didn't see the old man from before but had conned eyes with a blue eyed, tall, white haired, tanned skin teen.

"Why hello there. My name is Zane," the stunning sea-blue eyed teen said before continuing with, "Welcome to Dr. Julien's Technologies Shop! How may I help you today?"

"Oh um, I'm Morro and I was here earlier to have my camera fix," Morro said, slightly shying away from Zane's confidence.

"The Canon EOS 80D with the tripod, correct?" Zane asked, a tender smile on his face.

"Ah, yes that's cor-correct," Morro stammered as he could feel his face getting warmer.

"Perfect! I'll be right back with your camera," Zane said as he walked into a backroom.

"Thanks," Morro said while trying not to embarrass himself anymore and thinking, 'Oh my God! Why am I starting to stammer!'

Zane came back to the counter with Morro's Camera and tripod completely unscathed, just like when he first bought them. But, before Morro could do anything, Zane slid a USB flash drive on the counter while saying, "I noticed that you still had your SD card inside of the camera. And...And I wanted to help save your work...And I'm really sorry for looking through your things, but..." a dark blush was starting to keep from Zane's cheats to his ears as he quickly saud, "your photos are very alluring."

"Th-thank you!" Morro said as he thought, 'Think Morro, Think! Say something before he gets freaked out like the others,' and then blurred out, "Would you like to take pictures with me?"

"That would be wonderful."

*~~~*

"And that is pretty much what happened," Morro said while holding onto Zane's hand, "but, how do you guys know each other?"

Sensei Wu took a deep calming breath before saying, "Zane is one of my students and is apart of the group of ninja that protect Ninjago."

"Sensei! Wasn't that supposed to be a secret to all civilians?" Zane said in shock.

"Love should never be built on a foundation of lies," Sensei Wu said while getting off the couch and heading towards the door, "you two can have the house for yourselves. I'll go visit my nephew for the weakened."

"So, what does the savior of Ninjago want to do first?" Morro asked with a sly smirk on his face.

*~~~~~~~~~~~~*

Well here we are, first fanfic that I've ever made! Hope you guys like it ( and sorry if the the character seem oc), but keep touch for the next chapter. Hopefully it will be out by the 4rd or 5th, maybe earlier~

Oh man, so many headcanons for this story. Abd, to try and clear some things up: Morro had been adopted by Wu and So kinda just let's Morro do his own thing (Wu knows Morro is a good kid, despite where he has come from and how dresses), then there's Dr. Julien having a tech store (most likely where Julien gets spare parts for his his projects), and Morro getting into the hobby of photography. So many things, probably going to be like this with the other chapters, Ooof.

( 0v0 )

[ryoflame]

Welcome to Melburn Roobaix!

Any cyclist worth their salt knows about Paris-Roubaix, the gruelling French race known for its difficulty, danger and cobblestones. Well sometime ago (forever, if you believe them) the wonderful people at FYXO decided Melbourne, my home city, needed it’s own version of the race.

They took the seriousness down a notch, tracked a route through our fair city totalling about 50km, gave everyone scavenger hunt-style question sheets to fill out en route–and this year was the first year I gave it a go.

Loads more photos below!

I had bought a ticket to the Melburn Roobaix at the last minute; it was something I’d been trying to decide on for a while and it was only when a close friend of mine said she’d do it with me that I decided to take the plunge. Recently I’d been lucky enough to get my hands on a beautiful road bike that was absolutely worth more than what I paid for it, and I’d owned this bike for a week before deciding to put it through the gruelling 50km event.

Juicy!

The FYXO team wanted to create an event that would be a challenge, while at the same time remaining fun, tongue-in-cheek and family friendly. There was a less devastating ‘petite Roobaix’ for parents with young kids, but I was amazed to see a lot of kids 10-15 giving it a red hot try on BMX bikes or road bikes of their own. Families were out and about together and it was awesome to see.

A big part of it was the dressing up aspect, too! They encouraged costumes and crazy bikes, so we saw everything from a cardboard Pac Man being chased by an equally cardboard Ghost, to a Mad Hatter and Alice in Wonderland on a tandem bicycle with the dormouse in a basket on the back, to the full team of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

All with bike helmets, of course. Safety first!

Loads of people had poured creativity into their outfits and I felt a little under-dressed! As I’d come in so late I hadn’t planned for anything except my signature citrus-y vibe which I made sure to bring in with me. Melbourne had treated us with the perfect weather for cycling; the sun was out and the air was brisk, just perfect for getting warmed up with a nice bike ride.

There was a crazy amount of people on the starting field, more than I had expected to be there. We were soon picking up our starter kit which had our map, our question sheet and loads of fun little goodies like a sticker pack and pen, other Roobaix bits and bobs.

We headed off sometime just after 9:30am on this brisk and hectic Sunday morning.

One thing I quickly noticed; Melburn Roobaix was a fantastic way to see a city that I had lived in for years, yet somehow had never properly explored. We started off along a beautiful river trail I had always admired from a distance, winding through gorgeous forest area, that I had always thought to myself I’ll ride that bike path one day.

Even once we hit the streets we went down laneways and through areas I had never previously visited–had a reason to visit–and there was so much to see and do! So many gorgeous old buildings and great little cafes!

There were so many riders doing the Roobaix that you were really never on a stretch of road on your own, there was always a group of cyclists within eyesight somewhere, which was very useful if you lost track of where the signage was. It varied between actual signs with arrows pointing in the right direction stuck to things and stencilled arrows on the pavement, but neither were very frequent which led people to pause in their cycling trek to often check their maps, or simply to follow the cyclists who seemed to know where they were going..

If you were set on completing your scavenger hunt questionnaire you had to pay even closer attention though… where was the answer to that darn question?!

At many places there would be clusters of cyclists stopped, whether they were reassessing the route, grabbing a much-needed drink, fixing their bikes or just having a good rest. My cycling buddy and I didn’t want to stop anywhere too early because we figured once you got to sitting down it would be much harder to get yourself moving again! There were lots of cafes and rest places along the set route and we saw stacks of bicycles at each one.

One of the cafes was also a scavenger hunt answer, with two other answers nearby, and it was one of the most popular spots for people to stop for this reason. It was also a solid third of the way into the run, and by this point we decided we’d deserved a rest; by now it was getting to 12pm so we’d been cycling pretty solidly for two hours.

Can you spot me?

I had packed food for myself which I had brought with me, but I couldn’t resist a small reward in a maple and brown sugar glazed donut and a tasty soy chai. While we rested I also took the opportunity to eat my homemade peanut-butter and jam sandwich, which was definitely needed, and immediately felt renewed! Peanut butter gave me the protein I needed, the yummy seeded bread the carbs and the jam was a bit of a sugar kick to get me going again.

Up until this point we’d had a few small laneways of cobblestones which had been uncomfortable. The largest stretches of cobbles came in the second half and boy were they unpleasant!

The cobblestones are a defining characteristic of the Roobaix so we had kinda known what we’d be in for, but that didn’t make them any easier to traverse. I was on my roadbike, a carbon-framed beast that weighed next to nothing with tyres barely wider than the width of my finger; this is a bike suited to smooth flat streets and not the uneven terror of cobbled laneways.

Every time my bike’s tyres skidded on stone my heart stopped for a fraction of a second as I tried to straighten myself up. My cycling buddy’s bike was heavier with thicker tyers and fared much better, but I really had to take it easy on these stretches and concentrate as even the slightest lapse in judgement was going to send me crashing to the ground.

Not gonna lie, pretty terrifying.

It was getting tougher with every additional stretch of cobbles too, they seemed to go on forever sometimes and then even when we ended up on smooth surfaces my butt and arms were so sore (the latter from tension mostly, trying to maintain steering) that I hardly seemed to find any kind of rest. Plus we still had a lot of ground to cover!!

Honestly, my favourite part? Watching where the cyclists congregated. Seeing everyone just getting along doing the same thing, stopping for coffee or a beer, stopping along the side of the road and chatting with strangers and sharing tips, scavenger hunt answers and directions. There was a sense of camaraderie, mutual understanding and overall fun. There were people of all ages, going at all kinds of paces. Even when we didn’t stop at the same place as other people, seeing them as we rode by all having a jolly old time was an uplifting experience that energised me and kept me going.

That, and I had a cycling buddy. I don’t think I would have had nearly as much fun if I hadn’t had someone to share it all with, so a big thanks to my bestie who is always there to come with me through my crazy adventures, you’re the best!

More importantly, WE DID IT!

Here we are at Brunswick Velodrome, the finish line of the Roobaix, which we hit just after 3pm which meant we’d been out and about for approx. five and a half hours. By the time we got there the sun had disappeared, the wind had picked up and we were cold and exhausted but we had DONE IT! We took advantage of the tasty food trucks at the finish line before taking our bikes for one last cycle to the train station to head home (it was too cold for anything else!).

It was overall an amazing experience and one that I’m really glad I got to do, even if it was a super last minute decision. I’ll definitely be doing next year’s, and I’ll definitely work on a costume for it!!

Sadly I had forgotten to activate my Fitbit at the beginning so I have no tracked map in my phone, but my stats do say I have 289min of cycling clocked up all up for that day, cut in half by our lunch stop at around 12pm. I think that’s a bloody good outcome!!

See you next year, Melburn Roobaix!!

[dawnjeman]

New Year, New Beautiful Homes of Instagram

  Hello, my wonderful friends! How are you in 2019? Did anything happen? Did a switch turn on, bringing more Light into your heart during this first week of this New Year? It’s been terribly cold, gloomy and dark out there. The weather is miserable and it’s easy to feel the winter blues insistently knocking on my door, but I am not opening it… instead, I decided to take a small break during the Holidays to do what I love the most in life; which is spending time with my family and work whenever I feel inspired. I took a small break and I am finally feeling like myself again… nothing makes you feel more centered than being able to slow down and hear your own thoughts, and that was exactly what I did.

During this New Year, I certainly hope to continue to listen to what’s inside of my heart and that goes to what I want to share with you here on Home Bunch. I have to be completely honest with you guys. I am tired of cold homes, everything looks the same these days. Although I will always bring the latest trends to my readers, one of my main goals this year is to share homes that feel more like real homes, homes that have character and feel loved, and that starts with this year’s first “Beautiful Homes of Instagram”. Please, get to know Erin from The Heart and Haven. She’s someone that will inspire you to transform your current home into your “home-sweet-home”!

  Hi, my name is Erin @theheartandhaven and I’m a home renovator, home décor enthusiast and mother. I have always enjoyed staring at all the pretty things, but I never realized how much joy I would find in creating them until my husband and I bought a 1950s fixer upper about five years ago.

My husband and I are high school sweethearts from the Jersey Shore. We dated long-distance throughout college and upon graduation, we decided to move across the country to start our life together in Los Angeles. I worked in television before deciding to become a stay at home mom when I had my first son. I now have two boys, ages 7 and 4.

After getting married, we purchased a newly-built, builder-grade condo in Los Angeles and while the finishes were not exactly my taste, I was excited to just have a place to call our own and honestly never thought about changing anything. Two years after having my son and really craving some private outdoor space to have him run around, we searched our neighborhood to find a house. We found a corner house only a few blocks away on a beautiful, wide tree-lined street. It was custom built in 1950, and nothing had been updated since then. The house was head- to-toe covered in orange wood (floors, ceilings, walls, you name it!). The bathrooms had parquet linoleum, the staircase had scrolling wrought iron and each room had ceiling fixtures hanging so low that it made the 8 ft. ceilings feel much smaller. Having no reno experience under my belt, I still felt that this 2400 sq. ft. house had potential. Thus began our renovation journey, and we lived through all of it! I don’t think I knew what my style was when we started renovating our home and decisions often had to be made quickly. There are some things I would change, but I have learned so much throughout this process. And five years later, I think I have found my casually modern, beachy-boho style through decorating it , and it has truly become a passion of mine.

  New Year, New Beautiful Homes of Instagram

Our kitchen was the last major renovation. After living in what felt like a wooden cave, I wanted our new kitchen to be light and bright. We took down the wall that separated the kitchen from our playroom to open it up. I had always wanted an island but, due to building codes, the island would have been very small. So, I adjusted my vision and was able to have the counter space and seating area by making it into a peninsula instead.

Peninsula measures 6 ft x 4.5 ft. and counters are Salt White Marble.

Paint Color: Valspar Mountain Mist.

Kettle: Crate & Barrel.

“Let’s Stay Home” sign: Here.

Runner & Flooring

This pink kitchen runner is one of the cheeriest pieces of home décor I own. I paired it with the wallpaper to make our kitchen more playful.  

Runner: Here.

Flooring: Wickham Hardwood, Maple (color Walnut) – similar here, here & here.

Cabinet Paint Color

Kitchen cabinets are Maple, painted Benjamin Moore White.

Canisters: West Elm.

Backsplash is Daltile Subway Tile, 3×6 in Arctic White – similar here.

Appliances: Thermador Range, GE Café Series Refrigerator.

Marble Clock: Sur la Table.

Cabinet Cup Pulls: Hickory Hardware.

Sink & Faucet

While it might not be the most picturesque faucet, I love how we can turn the faucet on and off without dripping on our marble counters.  Definitely a functional win! 

Kitchen Faucet: Faucet, Moen Motionsense Chrome.

Kitchen Sink: 33” Farmhouse Fireclay Sink.

Kitchen Towel: Kate Spade.

Lighting & Barstools

When choosing the pendants over our peninsula, I didn’t want to compete with the chandelier in the nook. These cone pendants with their antique brass interior echoed the glam of the chandelier without overwhelming the space.

Barstools: Serena & Lily.

Lighting: Visual Comfort – 15 Inch Wide.

Utensil Holder: West Elm.

Breakfast Nook

I loved the idea of a breakfast nook and wanted to make it feel special, so I went with wallpaper and a statement chandelier. I think the wallpaper adds so much personality to this otherwise all white kitchen. I then paired it with a more rustic feeling table and chairs to contrast the crisp, geometric design.

Table is RH – similar here, here, here, here & here.

Chairs are RH – similar here & here.

Pillows: here, here, here, here, here & here.

Chandelier & Wallpaper

Wallpaper is from Serena & Lily in Denim.

Chandelier is Visual Comfort.

Playroom

After taking down the wall between the kitchen and the playroom, this is now our view.  Since this is the room my sons hang out in the most, it had to be functional for them but also flow with our kitchen.  

Sofa is from HD Buttercup 

Window Treatment throughout home are plantation shutters by American Vision Windows 

Paint Color

The barstools had to become part of the design for the playroom because of the open concept, so going slightly more coastal in this room with the oversized beach print and using blue accents in the room helped tie things together. 

Paint color is Valspar Mountain Mist.

Inspired by this Look:

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Sofa

Some might think a white sofa and children do not go together. And they would be right! However, I love the crisp look of a white sofa so I chose a slipcover that can be removed and washed.

Sofa is from HD Buttercup.

Ottomans: Etsy.

Artwork: Minted.

Rug: Pottery Barn.

Mudcloth Pillow is by Bryar Wolf – similar here.

Playroom Media Center

Not fancy or even perfectly styled, but that is mom life! This media center holds all the extra toys and books and games.

TV: Samsung.

Gray bins are from IKEA – similar here.

Media Center: Pottery Barn.

Knobs: Restoration Hardware Dillon Knobs.

African Wall Baskets: Etsy.

Desk

Both the desk and window-seat are IKEA hacks.  I upgraded the desk by swapping out the hardware and I made the IKEA Kallax bookshelf-turned-window seat feel more custom by adding a bench cushion.

Rattan Mirror: Pottery Barn.

Vintage rug found on Etsy – similar here.

Window

Pillows and bench cushion by Tonic Living – Similar Bench: here (on sale!) & here.

Bins found at Target.

Living Room

Our sectional is actually a recliner and the chaise lifts up for hidden storage.  I love how functional it is for our family. 

While there is still updating to do to this room, we recently removed the metal stair railings and replaced it with a wooden banister.  Painting and staining the banister was a beast! But it was well worth it. 

Stair posts are Benjamin Moore Super White and stain was a custom mix. 

Artwork on wall by @sarahcnightingale.

Sofa: West Elm.

Paint Color

Wall paint color is Benjamin Moore London Fog.

Rug is discontinued – similar here.

Seagrass lidded basket: here – similar.

Fireplace

Choosing a split-faced stone for the fireplace is still one of my favorite design decisions. 

Stone: Wayfair.

Chair: West Elm.

Moroccan Leather Pouf: here.

Fireplace Sconces: Pottery Barn.

Shelves

Believe it or not, farmhouse style was my first love.

Shelves are IKEA and I spray painted the brackets Rustoleum Hammered Copper.

Grid Photo Frame: McGee.

Walnut Frame: McGee.

Brass Bells: McGee.

Rustic Vase: Here.

Artwork on top by @sarahcnightingale.

Others items mix of flea market and HomeGoods finds (including bottom baskets) – similar baskets: here.

Coffee Table

Coffee Table: here.

Coffee Table Decor: Wooden Bowl, similar moss, similar wooden beads & similar vintage bells.

Sofa Pillows: here, here, here & here.

Dining Room

I love earthy elements and this rustic dining table is the perfect combination of form and function. With all of its raw imperfections, the kids can be as rough as they want with it and I don’t mind.

Dining Table & Bench: West Elm.

Rug is vintage – similar here, here, here, here & here.

Wooden Candle holders are locally sourced.

Planter in corner is from HomeGoods – similar here & here.

Good Vibes

There is a casualness about my design style which is probably why I gravitate towards word art.  And I love the boldness of this black and white piece.

Artwork by JaxnBlvd.

Stool: Target.

Dining Room Chairs

The white wishbone chairs help to bring a lightness to this space which doesn’t get a lot of natural light and the chairs’ low profile makes this small dining space feel bigger. Paint Color is Benjamin Moore London Fog.

Chairs are by InMod – similar here, here & here.

Lighting: West Elm – similar here.

Mirror: here.

Floor basket: Pier 1.

Kids Corner

This was a fun IKEA hack that I did for my 7 year old’s room.  I took the IKEA Kallax shelf unit, chose two different color doors and then spray painted the letters. Wall color is Valspar Ghost Ship.

Pillows by Tonic Living – similar here.

Rug & Seagrass boxes from Homegoods  – similar rug & baskets.

Shelf and baskets from IKEA .

Reading Nook

These fern decals make this reading nook a lot of fun for my four-year-old.  And while I would have loved a hanging chair, I didn’t think it was practical for my boys so I opted for this caged freestanding chair instead. 

Decals by Urban Walls.

Chair: World Market.

Paper Mache Animal Heads: Fox, Rabbit & Deer.

Elephant Side Table: Serena & Lily.

Rug: here – similar.

Prints by Society6.

Guest Bedroom

Adding board and batten was a game changer in this room.  It instantly made the guest bedroom feel loftier than its standard 8 ft. ceiling height. 

Leather Bed: CB2.

Duvet Cover: here.

Nightstand: West Elm.

Throw: here, here & here.

Rug: here.

Paint Color

Paint color is Benjamin Moore Chantilly Lace.

Candle Holders: Crate & Barrel.

Pillows: Black & White & Bolster Pillow – similar.

Artwork: here.

Guest Bathroom

This small bathroom was the first major renovation we did when we moved in. There was literally a treasure chest inspired toilet box in here and, much like the rest of the house, tiles and walls were orange-brown. Having no prior design experience, I went with timeless marble and this little bathroom still makes me happy.

Bathroom wall paint is Behr Sterling.

Vanity: Wayfair.

Faucet is Kohler Bancroft.

Mirror: Uttermost.

Hand Towel: McGee.

Wood pot from HomeGoods.

Floor Tile: Wayfair.

Master Bathroom

This is our only bathroom upstairs, so it was important for us to keep a separate tub for our kids.  Paint color is Behr Light French Gray.

Paint Cabinet Color: Benjamin Moore Simply White.

Tile is Ceramiche Caesar Porcelain Tile in MORE Manhattan – similar here.

Rug is from HomeGoods – similar here & here.

Vanity: Pottery Barn.

Art Print from Serena & Lily.

Crytal knob by Emtek.

Tub: Wayfair.

Stool: Serena & Lily.

Master Bedroom

I love having a neutral bedroom that I can easily switch up by swapping out pillows and throws.

Bed: Wayfair.

Blue quilt from HomeGoods.

Throw: Etsy – similar here.

Full Length Mirror: here – similar.

Rug: Lulu & Georgia.

Textures

Bench from RJ Imports – similar here.

Duvet Cover: Anthropologie.

Wall Basket: here – similar.

Pillows: Velvet Pillows, Mudcloth Pillows, Lumbar – similar.

Stripe vase from Crate & Barrel.

Faux Stems: Crate & Barrel.

Nightstands from Crate & Barrel discontinued but similar ones here, here, here & here.

Paint Color

Paint color is Chantilly Lace by Benjamin Moore.

One of my favorite things about this house is the amount of closet space.  Our master has a his and hers closet.  The smaller one behind that door is the his, of course.  

Ladder is from Crate & Barrel.

DIY

The wall art here was an easy DIY.  I put mudcloth scraps in black frames to give this corner a boho chic look. 

Chair from HD Buttercup – other beautiful chairs: here, here, here & here.

Side table: here. 

Bench: here.

Dresser: Pottery Barn.

Desk

Desk from Restoration Hardware – other beautiful desks: here & here.

Chair is from IKEA – similar here.

Pillow: Serena & Lily.

Hanging planter is from Homegoods – similar here.

Baskets: Serena & Lily.

Rug is from Homegoods – similar here, here, here, here & here.

  Many thanks to Erin for sharing all of the details above.

Make sure to follow Erin on Instagram to see more of her beautiful home!

  Amazing End-of-Season Sales!

Thank you for shopping through Home Bunch. I would be happy to assist you if you have any questions or are looking for something in particular. Feel free to contact me and always make sure to check dimensions before ordering. Happy shopping!

  Serena & Lily: Tent Sale Up to 70% off! – Enjoy an Extra 20% OFF. Use Code HOORAY

  Wayfair: UP to 75% OFF – Huge Sales on Decor, Furniture & Rugs!!!

  Joss & Main: Best Prices of 2018 – Up to 70% Off

  Pottery Barn: Buy More, Save More – 20% Off Sidewide + Free shipping: use Code: HELLO19 

  One Kings Lane: Final Days to Save: Take an Extra 20% Off Markdowns with Code OKL20MORE.

  West Elm: Big New Year Sale: 20% Off Your Entire Purchase! Use Code: NEWYEAR

  Pier 1: Huge Sales – Up to 60% Off!

  Anthropologie: Winter Tag Sale: All sales at an extra 40% Off! Amazing!

  Posts of the Week:

2019 New Year Home Tour.

Family-friendly Home Design.

Christmas Inspiration.

Interior Design Ideas.

Small Lot Modern Farmhouse.

Transitional Home Design.

Newlyweds Home Design.

Family Home Renovation with Casual Interiors.

2018 Norton Children’s Hospital Raffle Home.

Beautiful Homes of Instagram: California Beach House.

Neutral Home Interior Ideas.

You can follow my pins here: Pinterest/HomeBunch

See more Inspiring Interior Design Ideas in my Archives.

“Dear God,

If I am wrong, right me. If I am lost, guide me. If I start to give-up, keep me going.

Lead me in Light and Love”.

Have a wonderful day, my friends and we’ll talk again tomorrow.”

with Love,

Luciane from HomeBunch.com

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[ericlwoods]

Not sure how to start this write up. There is some hesitancy on my part, but not for the usual reasons.

Not for fear of Leica adherent backlash. I am a casual member of the same. Very much enjoyed a brief Leica film dalliance I fully understand the Leica allure.

https://flic.kr/p/26omc7J

And I loved what the Leica M3 (KEH Blog Post here) could do.

https://flic.kr/p/YPNiHi

What happened? As much as I loved the M3 functionally it was a dead end fiscally.

Body: I would rather in body metering. But that means a film M6 (M5 also technically) which currently goes for more than a few brand new full-frame digital cameras.

Lens: Had and loved the Voigtlander 50mm f/1.5. But why not a proper Leica? They are quite expensive, especially when you go wider than f/2. Multiples of the cost of the M3 body alone used in fact.

Media: An M mount digital Leica was beyond my reach. The cost of moving to a digital M mount was a hard proposition for me personally.

Sidebar: Not saying digital M mounts are not worth the price. They are. Simply a matter of them costing more than I am willing or able to spend.

What did I do next? I already enjoyed Voigtlander lenses so I went for a less expensive Voigtlander Bessa R2 that has in body metering.

https://flic.kr/p/261676d

Perfect for my purposes for much less spend. So it looks like I dodged the Leica bullet. What happened? Put simply the Q happened.

As soon as it was released back in 2015 I knew the Q would haunt me. Some scoffed at such an expensive all in one camera. Not me. Without knowing anything more the mere fact that this was a camera with:

An AF Summilux lens included where a manual focus M version would cost more alone.

No rangefinder, but zoom and peeking aids like those I grew to appreciate on other mirrorless cameras.

Full frame. As much as I appreciate the Leica name I would not purchase a less than full frame lens Leica product.

I stopped reading further. Knew I was in trouble. A close encounter with a Q in the wild proved problematic as well. On a local photo walk accomplished photographer Edde Burgess took what is still to this day my favorite portrait of me.

Edde took this with his Leica Q that I tried not to look directly at during the walk for too long. In short, I had a medium format film camera in hand and a bag full of digital gear, while Edde was rolling with one self-contained wonder. Still, I resisted.

Then after some years went by…

A Q showed up at my local camera shop recently.

Dang it.

Took it in hand and told myself not to look at the price on the bottom. I looked. Was initially stunned by, but not really surprised by, the price. Holding its value better than I had hoped.

Went home and looked at the prices of examples online and realized the Q really holds its value. This local example was very much priced to move. If I ever was going to get one this would likely have to be it. Dang it.

Went on to finally read and watch the reviews and deep dive into the specs I had all avoided all of these years. Hope was that these would back me down. Snap me out of it. Sheesh. A rare consensus. Praise after praise. And the specs listed features I did not expect of any all in one camera, especially a Leica.

OIS

Found this particularly surprising. My one real bogey, the RX1, does not have this feature. Digital stabilization does not count. Having long become spoiled with OIS it is now a must-have feature.

Macro

So avoided early reviews and specs that I had no idea that it had a macro function. The party piece is the shifting distance markings. Amazing bit of engineering and design that actually works.

Leaf shutter.

Silent shooting with physical shutter up to 1/2000s and flash sync up to 1/500s. Will not ever likely use flash, but the silent shooting is a definite plus.

E-shutter.

Up to 1/16,000s shutter. What? This means completely silent stills in daylight with the aperture wide open without an ND filter any time I want.

WiFi/NFC.

Well implemented remote control and file transfers by all accounts. I see you Leica.

10fps… 10fps!

3 years old and bests the rightly highly regarded newbie 8 fps A7iii (No ding intended. Love that camera. Just facts.).

AF.

Fast and accurate AF on a full frame Leica. That is a ‘take my money’ sentence.

Direct manual focus.

With assists. WIth hard stops. Focus tab with an ingenious AF/MF switch built in.

Not drive by wire. With zoom and peeking. No. it is not a proper rangefinder, but it more than makes up for it with it’s well thought out and elegant implementation.

Face detect AF.

Another ‘take my money’ feature.

Touch screen with touch focus.

Greatly helps to mitigate the omission of a tilt screen for me.

AF Tracking.

Actually works.

Favorites menu.

Most recent firmware I installed added a favorites menu where you can choose what comes up first. Found the menus already to be intuitive and quick to navigate, but this is even better.

User profiles.

Quickly switch between my favorite self defined configurations (B&W/High Speed/Street/Normal) just like I have set on all of my other cameras.

Video.

Not pro grade. No mic jack. Not 4K. But AF tracking is good and more than serviceable for the few occasions I would want to capture video.

Decided a test drive was in order. Does it add up? Have been disappointed in the past when real life experience does not match the hype and/or spec sheet. Not the case here.

Lower price non Leica comparisons.

Having owned and tried many digital cameras (Sony RX1 line, Fuji X100 line, Ricoh GR line and the like) I can honestly say that this camera is greater than the sum of its parts. It is not about capability since any number of cameras can produce excellent images. But even if you took the word Summilux out of the equation this camera matched or bested every camera listed above ergonomically in my book. I spent near no time staring at the camera wondering how to change setting X or Y. Switch to MF? Move the focus wheel on the lens away from AF. Change the aperture manually? Move the dial on the lens off of A. Change the shutter speed manually? Move top plate mounted shutter dial off of A. Change the ISO? Press button on the back marked ISO and turn the wheel. Hey, what is this unmarked dial on the top do? What do you know it adjusts the exposure compensation. All this in the first few moments after having picked up the camera without ever picking up a manual or visiting Youtube. Your mileage may vary, but add the Summilux name back in on top of that (and my notes below) and it is a no brainer for me.

Higher price Leica comparisons.

Leica M acolytes look away until the next paragraph. Nothing to see here… Seems absurd to say, but at the Qs price point there is value to be had here. To achieve the equivalent Leica M specs of this lens and body combination one would need to spend many thousands more for a digital 24MP M 240 body (new or used) or Summilux lens (any focal length used or 28mm new). And I did say ‘or’ not ‘and’. Combine the two and you easily surpass what I paid for my dadmobile daily driver on up into five digits. Some would say that an M advantage is that you can change the lens. Moot point for me. Truth is that if I ever did buy a comparable M lens and body there would be no budget left ever for another lens. And no AF at that price. Tell me of a less expensive AF true Summilux full frame experience anywhere and I am all ears. Not arguing worth. Stating what I am personally willing to pay.

But both comparisons ultimately miss the point. To say the most cliched of cliched things you have to use it and evaluate the results for it to make sense. Hard to relay in words, but since we are here let me try. Imagine if you combine:

Summilux.

I.E. outstanding sharpness wide open, class leading sharpness stopped down a little, great focus fall off, great contrast, creamy bokeh, and wonderful colors. Best lens I own hands down is permafused to this camera.

Near DSLR speed swift and accurate AF acquisition.

Even in low light. How they did this with contrast detect AF only I have no idea. Some Panasonic partner magic perhaps?

10fps.

With useable AF-C tracking in a pinch. That bests all of my other quite capable interchangeable lens cameras.

Best of the best mirrorless manual focus implementation.

Utterly silent shooting.

Best of any digital I own 1/16,000s shutter speed available.

Not to be used for panning/fast moving objects or it will distort, but fantastic in relatively static brightly lit conditions. 1/2000s leaf shutter available if need be for motion.

24.2MP.

This the goldilocks MP count for me. Any less is not enough of a post crop detail safety net for my liking. Any more eats into archive RAW archival storage space quickly and noticeably impacts the speed of my post processing workflow.

Full frame.

Some of my favorite work ever was done in MFT. APS-C is just fine for most all purposes. But if available I prefer full frame.

OIS.

Mentioned above, but deserves mentioning again.

Time lapse, panorama and other scene modes.

Have not gotten around to using any of this yet. But glad it has them.

Macro.

Mentioning again, because this is not just macro writ large on a non macro lens, but actual fast AF wonderfully implemented real deal macro capabilities.

EVF.

Best EVF I have ever used. And I have used a lot of EVFs.

In body 35mm and 50mm field of view crop.

May seem silly since you can crop after the fact. Made more useful since the images are so sharp that cropping still leaves plenty of detail.

Great for sharing real time with the Leica app. Crop while you shoot instead of after the fact.

 If you shoot RAW and JPEG like I do it is the best of both worlds since RAW files are not cropped.

Monochrome JPEGs.

 There are other JPEG settings, but this is the only one that matters to me.

 Small.

No, not as small as the also full frame RX1 line, but tried it and that camera is too small for my beef mitts. Bought and sold two RX100 cameras for the same reason. For me there is such a thing as too small. A nice size with half case and hood, but remove both and I am able to get this camera into a jacket pocket. Plus more compact than a similar M set up. And far more compact than a similarly spec’d A7III and lens. I believe this may be the most compact brighter than f/2 full frame digital camera and body combination on the market currently.

Summilux, summilux, and in conclusion summilux.

But not so fast. There have to be minuses, right?

Focal length.

This was one potential demerit that concerned me. As I have pointed out ad nauseam my usual go-to prime focal length is 50mm or thereabouts. But in use, the 28mm focal length has not proved to be an issue at all. It has forced me to move in to get the shot sometimes, but this is where the small, silent, and quick nature of this camera pays dividends. So far I have thoroughly enjoyed taking shots while in the fray rather than having to back up and away. Has proven handy with environmental candid shots also. And if I do need to step back the bright aperture, ample MPs, accurate focus, and very sharp lens means that cropping is no issue. I should not have been surprised since two of my favorite all in one film cameras are 28mm.

Lack of weatherproofing.

Would have been nice. But not really an issue for me. Some of my cameras are weatherproofed technically and they all get put away at the first sign of rain regardless.

Saved the most biased, eye roll/cringe inducing, subjective assessment for last.

Fun.

Fun to use. Fun to review the results. A highly technical and very capable contraption that is simple to use for any situation that does not require a superwide or telephoto lens. I have cameras that have high keeper rates. The Q is the rare camera that has a high “wow factor” rate. And the only one I own film or digital with that “wow factor’ that does not have some usability compromise involved.

So much so that I have gone from carrying a gear bag everywhere to just carrying this camera. In fact I have already traded quite a bit of the gear the Q displaces without hesitation to partially fund this acquisition.

But lastly it has been out so long you might mention. True. But I know of no camera released since that tops this camera. Some mentioned a Leica Q 2 one day, but why? In my humble opinion there is little that would improve this camera.

So in case you were still wondering I like it. A lot.

Here are some sample shots below and here is a link to an ongoing gallery.

Happy shooting.

-ELW

The Leica Q 4 years on: An amazing camera still. @leica_camera #leicaq #leica #leicaqtype116 Not sure how to start this write up. There is some hesitancy on my part, but not for the usual reasons.

[sunshinechii-scenarios]

Day with Jun

I've been gone from my Day with SVT series oooooof. I haven't been very inspired recently for these which sucks but I know my creativity will come back, hopefully LOL. Check out our always updating masterlist for the other parts! - Chii

✿ Seventeen’s Jun x Gender Neutral Reader ✿ Fluff ✿ 1.8k words ✿  Not requested ✿  Written by Chii

I made that divider only for this blog’s use so please don’t take it or use in your own posts, thank you .- Chii

Your morning started much later than you expected. At 3 PM your phone rang and Jun woke you up with a loud good afternoon.

“I'll be there in 10!” You lazily mumbled a ‘mhm’ as you hung up the phone. You remembered that Jun was off today and wanted to relax with you. You had prepared face masks, dumb movies and snacks before hand.

You passed out right after the call and drifted back into dream world. A few seconds went by in your head while 10 minutes really passed. The doorbell was being rung quickly and you jolted out if bed.

You fixed your hair while you walked to the door and found Jun standing at it. He had a baby blue bag at his side. You stared at his outfit and frowned.

“Why are you wearing that?” He looked at his outfit and bought his brows together in confusion.

“What do you mean? I think I look good.”

“A leather jacket and jeans! I thought you would come in something comfortable.” You had wanted him to be at his maximum comfort today.

“I didn't get the memo we were supposed to look like we just rolled out of bed.” He said as he rolled his eyes and continued to stand in the door frame. You crossed your arms and pulled him in.

“Come in already you idiot! You’re lucky I have basketball shorts and a hoodie that fit you.” You said as you started to walk off to your bedroom. He took off his shoes, leaving him in his socks and following you.

By the time he entered the room, you were already halfway into your closet looking for the articles of clothing. You threw a pair of basketball shorts on the bed

“Change into those, you know where the bathroom is.” He took the shorts and went into the bathroom down the hall to change.

While he did so, you finally found the dark green hoodie from the depths of your closet. Jun entered the room and you aimed perfectly to throw it had his face.

“Is this the Clap hoodie?” He recognized the print on the back, Specialized Video Technology.

“Yes it is!” You smiled happily as he shrugged off his leather jacket, leaving him in just a tee-shirt.

“Why’d you buy one? I could have easily given you mine or gotten an extra.” He said while pushing his head through the small opening. His hair was a mess afterwards and caused you to laugh.

“Because I want to support you guys and be a good friend? Why is that a question?” You pushed him to sit on your bed as you fixed his hair by combing it with your fingers.

“Alright, whatever. What are we doing today anyway?” Jun said as he started to walk back to the living room with you behind him. You clapped your hands and smiled.

“We’re gonna get pampered!” His expression dropped, he was bewildered. He stopped walking, turned around and looked at you.

“Excuse me?”

“Well, you work a lot so you need some sort of relaxation, right? I also have a lot of movies to watch and I just got paid so food is on me!” You happily said to him. You wanted him to feel like he didn’t need to do any work today, it was the least you could do as his friend. He sighed and shook his head.

“I wish you would have told me that before I bought some of my mom's cooking over. She was taking a connecting flight and stopped by the dorms. She likes you more than she likes me.” He turned back around to walk and sit on the couch with multiple throw pillows and a large fluffy blanket.

“I think I like your mom more than I like you.” You said as you followed but didn’t sit down.

“Low blow. Why are you standing? Get down here.” Jun looked up at you but you turned your head ‘no’.

“Get comfortable! I'll get the stuff, there's a few movies already there, the remote is right in front of you! Choose anything!” Jun picked up the remote and began to flip through the movies you put into a playlist titled “For Junhui!”

He heard your footsteps and turned his head towards the sound to be face to face with a bunch of face masks.

“Choose one!” He rolled his eyes and nodded an okay as he randomly picked up a mask, aloe. You placed it on the couch as you went to put the other ones away.

“Perfect! Your skin looks dry anyway.” Jun stared at your with an offended look. You turned to see his unamused expression.

“Oh stop it! I mean it in the nicest way possible.” You hit his shoulder lightly.

“Yea, sure. I can’t help it, they don’t use the right makeup for my skin type.” He whined, thinking back to when they used a super matte, self-setting foundation on his face for a photoshoot.

“Okay, okay. Shush so I can put this on.” You said as you pat his shoulder. He rested his head on the couch as you stood behind it, ripping open the green packaging. You removed the slimy mask and unfolded it. Carefully, you fit it onto his face.

“You’re getting it in my mouth.” Jun mumbled as the mask started to coat his lips.

“Then stop moving!” You hit his shoulder then carefully pulled the mask off his lips before dabbing off the excess with a tissue. You noticed the pale and cracked skin.

“Gross, do you use chapstick?” You said as you threw the tissue on the coffee table to discard later.

“I think it wiped off on the hoodie in all honesty.” Jun said slowly to avoid the mask from slipping down his face and coating his lips again.

“I'll grab mine. Your lips look crusty.” He nodded while you went off to your room to grab the chapstick.

You applied the chapstick to his lips that looked a little too inviting even though they were gross looking. You shoved the blue tube in his hands while you excused yourself to the bathroom to cool down.

You closed and locked the door. Turning on the water, you splashed your face with the cold water. You found a tray of nail polish that your cousin left by the sink last time she visited and a great idea popped in your head.

Fast forward a little bit and Jun was patting in the extra face mask essence into his skin with one hand while you prepped the other for applying nail polish on.

“I really don't get why you’re painting my nails.” Jun said while you filed his nails. You felt the calluses on his hands and furrowed your brows for a few seconds until Jun called your name. 

“Do you think you could black?” He asked while his hand slipped out of yours to observe your job well done on his nails.

“I think so, why?” You asked as you looked through the tray in search for a black bottle.

“I'd rather do black than the light blue you have right now.” He said as he pointed to the bottle of baby blue polish on the table.

“Fair enough.” You opened the bottle and started to paint his hands. The warmth was still the same as ever.

While waiting for the layers of nail polish to dry, you kept an eye on the time.3:50 PM, 4:00 PM, 4:10 PM and 4:20 PM.

“Is that opaque enough for you?” You let go of his hands.

 “Reminds me of when I was a vampire for that drama.” You thought back to his actor days and tried to hold back a laugh for what you wanted to say next.

“Oh Mr.Junhui sir please don’t suck my blood and kill me!” You said in a very sarcastic way and it caused him to roll his eyes.

“You’re lucky my nails are still wet and I like them.” “Are you hungry by the way?” You said as you turned on the TV to slide a movie disk into it.

“Not really but let's order now. If we order any later than we’ll be stuck in the dinner rush.”

“Smart, pizza?” You asked.

“YES! I’ve been on this diet that Soonyoung put us on and I haven’t laid eyes on pizza in a month.” He groaned and you laughed at his manner.

You ordered the pizza but it looked like others got the same idea. There was an hour and 45 minute wait but Jun didn’t care. You pulled some snacks from the drawers in the kitchen and shared them between you two.

Jun took a photo of his nails and send them into the SVT group chat. They replied with a photo of a giant couch fort. Based on the photo, Vernon was taking the photo since you counted 11 boys in it.

“Do you think my nails are dry?” You shrugged and pushed the tip of your finger at his.

“Yes they are. Why?”

“Wanna build a fort?”

“Uh, yeah!” You two got to work and started to throw cushions and blankets all over the place. In half an hour your fort was erected in all its beige and soft glory. 

You two sat inside and dragged all the snacks in along with you. The comedy movie that you had put in earlier was just ending when Jun suggested something. A horror movie?

“Aren’t you bad with horror movies?”

“Sadly but where’s the fun in watching a comedy with my best friend?”

“Fine, I’ll dig something out.” You said as you walked away and came back a few minutes later with a Scary Movie disk in hand. Scary Movie was one of those movies that parodied the unoriginal scary movie cliches and made them funny.

(Scary Movie is rated R so please don’t watch it or the other movies in the series without an adult.)

The door rang when the climax of the movie had just died down. Jun offered to get it while you paused the movie. He sat down and opened the box in front of you two. 

“Are we really in a couch cushion fort setting pizza and watching Scary Movie right now?”

“Yes we are.” He rolled his eyes as he got another slice of pizza. His eyes drifted down to you leaning on him while covering your eyes. He wasn't a big fan of ghosts either but he blocked out the movie. You were much more entertaining. A light bulb went off in his head and he wanted to scare you. 

He unnoticeably moved his shoulder so his hand stopped right behind your back. The hand walked up your back. You screaming thinking it was a really big bug or a ghost, either one was bad. Jun’s laugher caused you to hit him. 

“Y/N, thanks for today.” He said sincerely as he hugged you lightly.

“Ah! What are you talking about? You decided to spend today with me instead of resting.” You tried to hide the blush that creeped on your cheeks and watched the movie on the screen.

“I made a good choice thought! I wish we could spend forever like this” Jun said. You wished the same.

I was in a RUSHHHH to finish this bc I felt bad that I hadn’t been keeping up with my written series that I work on! - Chii

Please don’t claim this as your own and please don’t do anything with it without my permission. If you don’t want it happening to you, don’t do it to others.

[tech-battery]

Ode to my DSLR: Why I Love the Nikon D610

I used my Nikon D610 to take the last photograph of my mom before she died. I’ve documented my children’s lives nearly everyday. The rubber grip is wearing thin in spots. A rubber tab on the bottom is chronically flapping loose; my fingers push it back into place out of habit. This camera has become an extension of me, and I have grown to love it. But it has not always been that way.

I bought the Nikon D610 back in April 2015. I had been using a Nikon D5200 since 2013. I quickly learned that I loved taking photos. I was using the camera for a 365 project. It turned into two 365 projects. I was on camera sites everyday learning about camera settings and techniques. DigitalRev on YouTube in its heyday! I look back on those moments with great happiness, thinking about the joy of photography added to my life.

I had collected a few lenses with the D5200, and when I wanted to upgrade to a camera body that had more accessible external controls, the D610 was the logical choice for me. The Nikon D750 had recently come out – but it was over $1,000 more than the D610. So I purchased the D610. That was 5 years ago. But in those five years I’ve often thought of switching camera systems.

I watch a lot of photography channels on YouTube. I’m always seeing the new cameras, new lenses, and new firmware upgrades. Each video makes me rethink my camera choices. At times I feel intense gear acquisition syndrome – GAS. On two occasions I even posted my D610 on Kijiji. With all my lenses. But I could never bring myself to sell it. I’ve been tempted by the Fuji X-Series cameras, but more on that later.

I want to write this review to share with others what I love about this camera – or, more universally, any older DSLR – and show it’s possible to learn and grow with “older” cameras. As well, I want to solidify in my own mind the things I love about the camera.

I have come, through this experience with the D610, to appreciate having and growing with a single, durable, and capable camera body through years of daily use. I’ve learned to see cameras, rightly or wrongly, as medium-to-long term tools: a creative partner with whom you grow. Where the more you get to know your camera and it’s limitations, the more you get out of it, accomplishing your creative vision with as little resistance as possible. And whatever resistance is there, it becomes a means to push your own creative capabilities to flow like water around a rock in a stream.

Why Do I Still Use the D610?

It may sound obvious – but because it’s the camera I own. There’s something to be said about being grateful for the things you have, rather than lust after the ones you want. It’s not easy, though.

I have three young kids in daycare and before-and-after school care. As a result, I don’t have a lot of disposable income to spend on camera gear. So once I became invested in the Nikon system, I’ve been wedded to it. As well, some of my favorite lenses have been gifted to me. My wife bought me the 50mm 1.4 G for Father’s Day in 2014. She also bought me the 35mm 1.8 ED as an early Christmas gift in 2015. A few years later, we took a family day trip to Toronto so I could buy a used 85mm 1.8 G lens. Most recently, I picked up a 24mm 2.8 D for an absolute steal before heading out to the Canadian east coast for a summer camping trip. I have all the focal lengths I could want.

Once I started looking at my camera for what it is, and to actively be grateful to have it with me to document my life, it has helped me look at it with a new perspective. I appreciate the D610. I’m grateful for it. There are many who don’t have access to this kind of technology and equipment to further their creative photography efforts. I do, and I’m committed to using it to the fullest.

I have been working hard to experience a freedom from desire and want – freedom from desiring the new camera. Only then can I truly feel free and fulfilled. Shedding the mindset of “not enough” or wishing I had “more”. For me, this starts with loving the camera I have, being grateful for it, and not wanting another camera. of course it helps that it takes great quality photographs.

Image Quality

The second reason I love the Nikon D610 is the image quality. The D610 generates what are, to my eye, very pleasing and highly usable RAW files, with lots of detail, dynamic range and lovely colours. To this day, I encounter moments of surprise when reviewing my photos in Lightroom – surprise that the D610 is capable of such great image rendering, low light performance, and magic when hitting 3200 and 6400 ISO.

Since I’m often shooting in my living room, kitchen and kids’ bedrooms in the early hours and late evenings, the ambient light is often provided by artificial sources. I love the high ISO performance of the camera – there is some real magic when this 24 megapixel sensor reaches 6400 ISO.

FujiFilm X-T2, X100F and X70

I have owned a Fuji X70 for the past 3 years. I needed a smaller camera to compliment my larger DSLR system for a vacation I was planning. The X70 was perfect, and I fell in love with the camera, and it became my daily carry.

A couple of years later FujiFilm Canada had a promotion to raise awareness of their cameras and I got the opportunity to rent a body and two lenses over a weekend for free. Because I loved the X70 so much, and considered jumping into the Fujifilm system entirely, I jumped at the chance and rented the X-T2 and X100F separately over the course of a couple months. I paired the X-T2 with the 16mm 1.4 and 23mm 2.0 and loved the results.

There’s a reason the 16mm 1.4 is a highly touted lens of choice for many well known Fuji shooters. It’s a beautiful performer, invites you to engage in some really creative shooting, and I loved the all metal feel and ergonomics of both lenses.

X100F

I loved the handling of the cameras, particularly the X-T2. The weight of the X100F actually surprised me, and made me think twice about using this camera as a daily carry, to replace my FujiFilm X70. But one thing was sure, the photos were excellent. I was able to get the results I wanted from these cameras, and they freed me up to work for tougher and more creative shots.

The files were great, but in my eyes, they didn’t provide the high ISO performance and the subjective magic feel of the D610 sensor.

X-T2

My heart loved the Fujis, but my mind couldn’t give up the idea of losing the D610 images. I really do wonder at times if I’m being too nitpicky about the image quality “compromise” of the Fujifilm system.

Having a smaller camera and lenses is really appealing; being able to have a portable interchangeable lens camera system to bring with me more places where I want more focal range versatility than what my Fuji X70 can provide is appealing. The concept of “good enough” is not lost on me, and when I really stop, pause, and review the Fujifilm X-T2 and X100F files, they certainly do seem “good enough”.

But I have a subjective preference for the slight, but noticeable to my eye, benefits of the D610.

Autofocus

Even the shortcomings of the camera, including the low light autofocus and small number of autofocus points being clustered in the middle of the viewfinder, can be overcome with creative workarounds. Finding some high contrast focus point close to where you want in focus, or grabbing the focus ring to get the shot work, and I’ve gotten better at manual focussing, which has been a lot of fun to learn.

I’m often trying to capture fast-moving kids, so I need to use a fast shutter speed of at least 125, and naturally need focus to nail quickly – so manual focus is a great way to try and get my shots, and autofocus of course when possible.

This is where I get tempted to pick up a mirrorless full-frame autofocusing monster like a Sony a7 III. I’ve even been tempted by the Nikon Z6 since its autofocus and low light performance seem quite good, and an improvement over the D610. But I’m not wild about the idea of shooting the Z6 with the FTZ adapter. Ergonomics mean a lot to me, and for some reason, shooting adapted lenses seems like a less than ideal solution, although I’m sure the end product would be quite good. I’m not sold on the long term viability of the Z Series, and I think that is what’s holding me back from jumping in (that, and my limited budget of course!).

What Does the Future Hold?

What I like about having shot the past 5 years with the Nikon D610 is that the camera has held up decently under some tough wear and nearly daily use. Sure, the rubber is thinning and looks used, but it has a certain fit with my hand and grip, and feels like an extension of me now. I’m going to need to replace it sometime in the next year I’m guessing, and I’m doing some thinking about what I’m going to replace it with.

Nikon Options

Do I stay with Nikon and continue using my excellent collection of fast primes? Sounds like a great option that would save me from having to buy all new lenses. I love the idea of picking up a used Nikon Df. I love the D4 sensor in the camera, and the physical control knobs really give me the idea that I would be finding a permanent partner for my F-mount Nikon glass. If I were to pick up the Df, it would be with me for life – I couldn’t imagine ever selling that camera. This approach would also ensure that I’m able to keep the lenses that have been gifted to me.

While there are times I think about selling the whole kit, the nostalgia and sentimental element of keeping these lenses is satisfied by keeping them. I can live with the autofocus of the Df, and the low light performance that I would take advantage of shooting indoors as I do would be magic. So tempting!

I also consider picking up a used or new Nikon D750. I love the ergonomics and deep grip, and the body of the D750 has a more premium and tighter feel than the D610 and I would be happy to use this camera. I like the idea of the flippy screen, but without quick and reliable autofocus in live view I don’t see the utility of it as I would with a flip screen on a mirrorless camera. The improved autofocus, particularly in low light, is a big selling feature for me, but the autofocus points remain clustered around the centre of the viewfinder, which will require me to focus and recompose which I want to avoid having to do, to capture the fast-moving kids I have!

That leaves the Nikon Z6. I could adapt all my lenses except the 24mm 2.8 D, which wasn’t too expensive, so not too much of a loss, but the need to adapt my lenses for the foreseeable future isn’t an idea I’m wild about, despite the autofocus gains I would get, along with the ability to autofocus using the flip screen while looking down at the waist, which I’ve really loved doing since getting used to this on the Fuji X70.

Fujifilm Options

I would turn to Fujifilm as the next preferred photography option. I love my X70 and the rangefinder style. I’ve had eyes for some time on the Fuji X-E3 – small, light and same sensor and processor as the previous generation flagships of the X-T2 and X-Pro2. The X-E3 doesn’t have the flip screen, which is unfortunate, since I’ve long loved using one, but the other compromises for size make up for it.

I would want a Fujifilm camera that would provide the same ruggedness as my D610 and can stand the test of time. I don’t want a camera body that will give me troubles – I’ve heard some build quality concerns of the X-T2 over time, and while that would be a great lower cost option, that makes me think twice. It had the flip screen so that’s a nice feature, and something the X-Pro2 doesn’t have. Otherwise, this leaves me thinking the X-Pro3 might be a great option – I see the dura-finish options providing some additional durability over time, which is exactly what I want, and with the flip screen hidden, my roughness with my cameras and back-LCD screen bashing would be mitigated somewhat by this feature.

Writing my thoughts for my D610 review, and thinking about what might be next for me, left me thinking about cameras more than I prefer to do – it triggers within me a feeling that I “need” to buy another camera. I don’t like this feeling! Keeping focused on the D610 and the art of photography is what brings me joy, not chasing the newer and faster and prettier.

[anneedmonsonus]

Spray Painting Our Old Colorbond Sheds

Recently I tackled a DIY project at our place that had been on my to-do list for a LONG time – spray painting our old Colorbond sheds black. Woohoo! I know they are just sheds, but they look SO much better now that it legitimately thrills me. I had it in my head for months how much nicer they would look black, and they turned out even better, which is always a nice surprise. I’m totally revealing the absolute dag I am here, but do you guys get the same way about house and garden projects? You think of something you want to make over, and then you cannot get it out of your brain. Every time I looked at those old sheds I would think about how much more sexy they would look if they were black. (Can I get away with using the words ‘sexy’ and ‘sheds’ in the same sentence? I think so).

AFTER

  BEFORE

I think it’s because those sheds backdrop our new deck and outdoor living spaces, and our house had this gorgeous new look with the Scyon cladding, and we had this beautiful new patio and deck, but behind it were these really average old sheds. They’ve been there since we bought the place and you see them from every single back room of our house. Practical, but not very pretty. The small shed was maybe made from Zincalume (I’m guessing?) and the large one was cream Colorbond, with bore water stains.

Mr Nerd is generally supportive of my crazy endeavours, but I can’t say he quite understood my obsession with painting them black. “Why would you want to bother painting the sheds?” he asked.

He ate his words when he saw the results. There is just something about black paint, isn’t there? It has transformative powers. Especially in a garden – plants look so brilliant against black; it makes buildings – even big sheds – seem to recede; it sort of ties everything together and it just looks bold and deliberate. I can’t get enough of black houses and sheds.

The kids have been consuming a good chunk of my energy, time and soul lately but the perfect excuse to finally paint came when Dulux put the word out about their new Jelly Beans campaign. This year from September to October everyone who buys 8L of Dulux paint from Bunnings or an independent hardware store receives a tin of jellybeans, one-of-five collectable Dulux puppies and helps support the company’s $140,000 donation to Second Chance Animal Rescue in Melbourne, and I was happy to put my blogger hat on and do my bit.

Nala was happy to put her hat on and be a MODELLE

So, I got my black Dulux Weathershield paint (Dulux Monument – to tie in with our house’s cladding paint scheme, which we did in Dulux Monument and Dulux Natural White) I cleaned the sheds with a hose and an old broom, and then I began painting.

With a brush. With the kids at my feet. I know.

I’ve done a bit of spray painting – all our old aluminium windows, chairs, planters, small things like picture frames etc – but can you believe I actually had to get up the nerve to spray paint the sheds?

I think it’s because an aerosol can seems so easy, but an electricity-operated spray gun just seemed so intimidating. I felt like if there was someone in the world who could muck it up and somehow whip that spray gun around and spray paint themselves in the face, it would be me. And I thought there would be much more backspray than there actually was. Even when I spray painted our old aluminium windows, I couldn’t believe how much the backspray went. I looked in the mirror afterward and realised the backspray had coated my eyebrows and nostril hairs white. I was horrified. I looked like a fiercely ageing Oompa Loompa.

I legit thought that painting with a brush – at least while the kids were underfoot – would be the more doable option. You can see how well THAT idea turned out on my Instagram Stories. (I saved all my progress to a Highlight reel called Shed Makeover, if you want to see videos of my fails and eventual progress). If you want the short version, just imagine Little Nerd asking me his daily 48,000 questions and telling me he wants his 34th snack of the day while I try to paint and Little Miss Nerd climbs up my ladder behind me and joyfully dips her chubby arm into the paint tin (and me screaming and admitting defeat).

The next day I begged my mother to take my spawn for the day, and then I faced my fear, got a spray gun (I used this Dulux Rapid Finish Spray Gun) and BALLSED UP.

Me with BALLS UP…. wait

I read the manual, got it going and was so delighted with it I wondered why on earth I had been so wary about it before. It was SO much faster and the finish was good. I did two coats, and it was done! It was deliciously satisfying seeing the shed transform before my eyes. I think refilling the plastic container on the spray gun took longer than painting the shed did.

I also fixed up this ugly corner of our garden that’s been bugging me for years (because it’s what my eye would be naturally drawn to when you’re standing at our kitchen sink looking out the window) and I wish I’d remembered to take a proper before photo because it was such an unattractive patch with just some dead straggling plants in it. But as it is I only thought to take a photo of it when I’d cleared it (with the aid of my small, useless assistant). I filled it in with plants I already had – potted palms and some agaves and dracaenas I’d found on the side of the road (God I love green waste pickup) and added some brushwood fencing I got from Bunnings.

When I shared this makeover to my Stories, I got so many DMs – it seems I’m not the only one thinking of painting an ugly Colorbond shed or fence! – so here are a few of those questions and replies. I’m definitely no painting expert, so please feel free to weigh in in the comments section if you are.

HOW TO SPRAY PAINT COLORBOND 

What colour did you use?

Dulux Monument – same as our house.

How many tins of paint did it take?

I used up two 4L tins of Dulux Weathershield in a low sheen formula. You need to choose a paint that is compatible with your steel. It needs to be exterior-specific, water-based acrylic paint.

Do you have to use a special paint for spray painting?

Dulux DO make specific formulas for spray painting but you can also use other paints to spray paint with a spray gun. You just need to dilute them with 10 – 20 percent water.

Did you prime the Colorbond first?

After researching this topic online and talking to friends who’d done it before, I decided not to worry about doing a primer beforehand. I did apply an SLS metal etch primer on high-wear areas (like around the handle to the shed door and on the hinges) but aside from that I applied the paint directly to the Colorbond (and metal of the rear shed). The reason for this, is that it’s old Colorbond, which over time has more adhesion than new. If you have a brand new Colorbond shed or fence, some people seem to recommend adding adhesion by either sanding it or using a primer. And you have to make sure you get rid of all the manufacturing residue if it’s a new fence or shed. A warning, if you paint a new Colorbond shed or fence, Bluescope Steel (who manufacture them) say that it will void any of their warranties issued.

If I look tired it’s because I am. Thanks Mr Nerd for the photos, you did reasonably well at finally becoming a good Instahusband and I saw a remarked improvement on your usual”one-shot-is-all-I-got” attitude

How bad was the backspray?

It wasn’t as bad as I had been expecting however if you are painting outside I would one hundred percent recommend you wait for a very calm day (no wind) and make sure you’ve moved your cars away or taken in your washing if it’s close by! If you’re spray painting a patio etc I would make sure you cover up your paving or decking.

Thanks Dulux for gifting me the paint for this post. If you have any questions, please let me know in the comments! Do you have a project you’re dying to spray paint? Maya x

The post Spray Painting Our Old Colorbond Sheds appeared first on House Nerd.

from Home Improvement https://house-nerd.com/2019/10/08/spray-paint-colorbond-shed/

[doodlewash]

My name is Robin Arnold and I’m a self-taught artist living in what used to be the Great Black Swamp in northwest Ohio. Although most of the swamp has been drained and is now farmland, small towns, or cities, the 13 acres I live on is still a marshy area which is a haven for wildlife and inspiration for my art.

I’ve been a serious nature photographer since the late 1970s, but a few years ago, I bought some paints and decided to do something I’ve talked myself out of for decades: try to paint in my favorite medium, watercolor.

I had done some drawing over the years. I still have a set of Derwent colored pencils my grandmother bought me in the ’60s, but I thought watercolor painting was for “real” artists and not for someone, who like me, had no formal art training. But the hundreds of photos I had taken of the area wildlife were begging to be turned into paintings, and finally, despite my lack of confidence, I decided to give it a try.

I began my journey into the world of watercolor by doing very rough sketches of whimsical animals in pen and ink and then painting them with a wash of watercolor. I usually used my photos to get the general shape of the animal but then let my imagination take over. I had a lot of fun doing these and eventually I got up the nerve to post them on Facebook.

I thought this would be a great way to keep track of my progress and also to show my friends—many of whom swore they couldn’t draw—that if I could do it so could they. When I wasn’t sketching I devoured art videos and read every  book on watercolor painting I could lay my hands on.

After a year or so of doing the sketches I decided to get a little more serious about my art and do an actual painting. Something I could frame and hang on the wall. I bought better paints and paper and decided my first painting would be a bird, one of my favorite subjects to photograph.

I’m lucky to live in an area that is known far and wide for its birding, so over the years I’ve accumulated a nice variety of photos to use as reference material.  I’ve done several birds since that first painting, and have also expanded my subject matter to include other animals, flowers and even some urban sketching.

I always have a  camera with me but instead of dragging around heavy professional quality photo gear I’ve switched to an advanced point and shoot camera. I’m much less interested in capturing the perfect photo and more interested in taking photos I can use in my art. I learned over time that instead of using one good photo for my painting I can combine elements of several photos to come up with a better composition.

Because I want to improve my drawing skills I always draw my subject freehand using the photo as reference and then transfer the drawing to watercolor paper. I will probably always use photos as reference but recently I’ve tried to loosen up my paintings and not slavishly copy every detail the photo contains.

My favorite paints are Daniel Smith, but I’ve been trying out some handmade paints and I’ve been very impressed with them. I’ve tried several brands of paper but I always come back to Arches. I use cold press for most of my paintings but I switch to hot press when I do line and wash.

Although I have sold and donated some of my paintings locally, and I do have an Etsy store, my main reason for painting is simple: it makes me happy and as someone who has battled severe panic attacks most of my life it’s also proven to be very therapeutic. I’m looking forward to pursuing my passion for watercolor, and if, along the way, I inspire someone else to pick up a brush that would be an added bonus.

Robin Arnold Instagram Facebook Etsy

GUEST ARTIST: "Art From The Marsh" by Robin Arnold - #doodlewash #WorldWatercolorMonth #watercolor #watercolour #nature My name is Robin Arnold and I’m a self-taught artist living in what used to be the Great Black Swamp in northwest Ohio.

[samuelmmarcus]

New Year, New Beautiful Homes of Instagram

  Hello, my wonderful friends! How are you in 2019? Did anything happen? Did a switch turn on, bringing more Light into your heart during this first week of this New Year? It’s been terribly cold, gloomy and dark out there. The weather is miserable and it’s easy to feel the winter blues insistently knocking on my door, but I am not opening it… instead, I decided to take a small break during the Holidays to do what I love the most in life; which is spending time with my family and work whenever I feel inspired. I took a small break and I am finally feeling like myself again… nothing makes you feel more centered than being able to slow down and hear your own thoughts, and that was exactly what I did.

During this New Year, I certainly hope to continue to listen to what’s inside of my heart and that goes to what I want to share with you here on Home Bunch. I have to be completely honest with you guys. I am tired of cold homes, everything looks the same these days. Although I will always bring the latest trends to my readers, one of my main goals this year is to share homes that feel more like real homes, homes that have character and feel loved, and that starts with this year’s first “Beautiful Homes of Instagram”. Please, get to know Erin from The Heart and Haven. She’s someone that will inspire you to transform your current home into your “home-sweet-home”!

  Hi, my name is Erin @theheartandhaven and I’m a home renovator, home décor enthusiast and mother. I have always enjoyed staring at all the pretty things, but I never realized how much joy I would find in creating them until my husband and I bought a 1950s fixer upper about five years ago.

My husband and I are high school sweethearts from the Jersey Shore. We dated long-distance throughout college and upon graduation, we decided to move across the country to start our life together in Los Angeles. I worked in television before deciding to become a stay at home mom when I had my first son. I now have two boys, ages 7 and 4.

After getting married, we purchased a newly-built, builder-grade condo in Los Angeles and while the finishes were not exactly my taste, I was excited to just have a place to call our own and honestly never thought about changing anything. Two years after having my son and really craving some private outdoor space to have him run around, we searched our neighborhood to find a house. We found a corner house only a few blocks away on a beautiful, wide tree-lined street. It was custom built in 1950, and nothing had been updated since then. The house was head- to-toe covered in orange wood (floors, ceilings, walls, you name it!). The bathrooms had parquet linoleum, the staircase had scrolling wrought iron and each room had ceiling fixtures hanging so low that it made the 8 ft. ceilings feel much smaller. Having no reno experience under my belt, I still felt that this 2400 sq. ft. house had potential. Thus began our renovation journey, and we lived through all of it! I don’t think I knew what my style was when we started renovating our home and decisions often had to be made quickly. There are some things I would change, but I have learned so much throughout this process. And five years later, I think I have found my casually modern, beachy-boho style through decorating it , and it has truly become a passion of mine.

  New Year, New Beautiful Homes of Instagram

Our kitchen was the last major renovation. After living in what felt like a wooden cave, I wanted our new kitchen to be light and bright. We took down the wall that separated the kitchen from our playroom to open it up. I had always wanted an island but, due to building codes, the island would have been very small. So, I adjusted my vision and was able to have the counter space and seating area by making it into a peninsula instead.

Peninsula measures 6 ft x 4.5 ft. and counters are Salt White Marble.

Paint Color: Valspar Mountain Mist.

Kettle: Crate & Barrel.

“Let’s Stay Home” sign: Here.

Runner & Flooring

This pink kitchen runner is one of the cheeriest pieces of home décor I own. I paired it with the wallpaper to make our kitchen more playful.  

Runner: Here.

Flooring: Wickham Hardwood, Maple (color Walnut) – similar here, here & here.

Cabinet Paint Color

Kitchen cabinets are Maple, painted Benjamin Moore White.

Canisters: West Elm.

Backsplash is Daltile Subway Tile, 3×6 in Arctic White – similar here.

Appliances: Thermador Range, GE Café Series Refrigerator.

Marble Clock: Sur la Table.

Cabinet Cup Pulls: Hickory Hardware.

Sink & Faucet

While it might not be the most picturesque faucet, I love how we can turn the faucet on and off without dripping on our marble counters.  Definitely a functional win! 

Kitchen Faucet: Faucet, Moen Motionsense Chrome.

Kitchen Sink: 33” Farmhouse Fireclay Sink.

Kitchen Towel: Kate Spade.

Lighting & Barstools

When choosing the pendants over our peninsula, I didn’t want to compete with the chandelier in the nook. These cone pendants with their antique brass interior echoed the glam of the chandelier without overwhelming the space.

Barstools: Serena & Lily.

Lighting: Visual Comfort – 15 Inch Wide.

Utensil Holder: West Elm.

Breakfast Nook

I loved the idea of a breakfast nook and wanted to make it feel special, so I went with wallpaper and a statement chandelier. I think the wallpaper adds so much personality to this otherwise all white kitchen. I then paired it with a more rustic feeling table and chairs to contrast the crisp, geometric design.

Table is RH – similar here, here, here, here & here.

Chairs are RH – similar here & here.

Pillows: here, here, here, here, here & here.

Chandelier & Wallpaper

Wallpaper is from Serena & Lily in Denim.

Chandelier is Visual Comfort.

Playroom

After taking down the wall between the kitchen and the playroom, this is now our view.  Since this is the room my sons hang out in the most, it had to be functional for them but also flow with our kitchen.  

Sofa is from HD Buttercup 

Window Treatment throughout home are plantation shutters by American Vision Windows 

Paint Color

The barstools had to become part of the design for the playroom because of the open concept, so going slightly more coastal in this room with the oversized beach print and using blue accents in the room helped tie things together. 

Paint color is Valspar Mountain Mist.

Inspired by this Look:

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Sofa

Some might think a white sofa and children do not go together. And they would be right! However, I love the crisp look of a white sofa so I chose a slipcover that can be removed and washed.

Sofa is from HD Buttercup.

Ottomans: Etsy.

Artwork: Minted.

Rug: Pottery Barn.

Mudcloth Pillow is by Bryar Wolf – similar here.

Playroom Media Center

Not fancy or even perfectly styled, but that is mom life! This media center holds all the extra toys and books and games.

TV: Samsung.

Gray bins are from IKEA – similar here.

Media Center: Pottery Barn.

Knobs: Restoration Hardware Dillon Knobs.

African Wall Baskets: Etsy.

Desk

Both the desk and window-seat are IKEA hacks.  I upgraded the desk by swapping out the hardware and I made the IKEA Kallax bookshelf-turned-window seat feel more custom by adding a bench cushion.

Rattan Mirror: Pottery Barn.

Vintage rug found on Etsy – similar here.

Window

Pillows and bench cushion by Tonic Living – Similar Bench: here (on sale!) & here.

Bins found at Target.

Living Room

Our sectional is actually a recliner and the chaise lifts up for hidden storage.  I love how functional it is for our family. 

While there is still updating to do to this room, we recently removed the metal stair railings and replaced it with a wooden banister.  Painting and staining the banister was a beast! But it was well worth it. 

Stair posts are Benjamin Moore Super White and stain was a custom mix. 

Artwork on wall by @sarahcnightingale.

Sofa: West Elm.

Paint Color

Wall paint color is Benjamin Moore London Fog.

Rug is discontinued – similar here.

Seagrass lidded basket: here – similar.

Fireplace

Choosing a split-faced stone for the fireplace is still one of my favorite design decisions. 

Stone: Wayfair.

Chair: West Elm.

Moroccan Leather Pouf: here.

Fireplace Sconces: Pottery Barn.

Shelves

Believe it or not, farmhouse style was my first love.

Shelves are IKEA and I spray painted the brackets Rustoleum Hammered Copper.

Grid Photo Frame: McGee.

Walnut Frame: McGee.

Brass Bells: McGee.

Rustic Vase: Here.

Artwork on top by @sarahcnightingale.

Others items mix of flea market and HomeGoods finds (including bottom baskets) – similar baskets: here.

Coffee Table

Coffee Table: here.

Coffee Table Decor: Wooden Bowl, similar moss, similar wooden beads & similar vintage bells.

Sofa Pillows: here, here, here & here.

Dining Room

I love earthy elements and this rustic dining table is the perfect combination of form and function. With all of its raw imperfections, the kids can be as rough as they want with it and I don’t mind.

Dining Table & Bench: West Elm.

Rug is vintage – similar here, here, here, here & here.

Wooden Candle holders are locally sourced.

Planter in corner is from HomeGoods – similar here & here.

Good Vibes

There is a casualness about my design style which is probably why I gravitate towards word art.  And I love the boldness of this black and white piece.

Artwork by JaxnBlvd.

Stool: Target.

Dining Room Chairs

The white wishbone chairs help to bring a lightness to this space which doesn’t get a lot of natural light and the chairs’ low profile makes this small dining space feel bigger. Paint Color is Benjamin Moore London Fog.

Chairs are by InMod – similar here, here & here.

Lighting: West Elm – similar here.

Mirror: here.

Floor basket: Pier 1.

Kids Corner

This was a fun IKEA hack that I did for my 7 year old’s room.  I took the IKEA Kallax shelf unit, chose two different color doors and then spray painted the letters. Wall color is Valspar Ghost Ship.

Pillows by Tonic Living – similar here.

Rug & Seagrass boxes from Homegoods  – similar rug & baskets.

Shelf and baskets from IKEA .

Reading Nook

These fern decals make this reading nook a lot of fun for my four-year-old.  And while I would have loved a hanging chair, I didn’t think it was practical for my boys so I opted for this caged freestanding chair instead. 

Decals by Urban Walls.

Chair: World Market.

Paper Mache Animal Heads: Fox, Rabbit & Deer.

Elephant Side Table: Serena & Lily.

Rug: here – similar.

Prints by Society6.

Guest Bedroom

Adding board and batten was a game changer in this room.  It instantly made the guest bedroom feel loftier than its standard 8 ft. ceiling height. 

Leather Bed: CB2.

Duvet Cover: here.

Nightstand: West Elm.

Throw: here, here & here.

Rug: here.

Paint Color

Paint color is Benjamin Moore Chantilly Lace.

Candle Holders: Crate & Barrel.

Pillows: Black & White & Bolster Pillow – similar.

Artwork: here.

Guest Bathroom

This small bathroom was the first major renovation we did when we moved in. There was literally a treasure chest inspired toilet box in here and, much like the rest of the house, tiles and walls were orange-brown. Having no prior design experience, I went with timeless marble and this little bathroom still makes me happy.

Bathroom wall paint is Behr Sterling.

Vanity: Wayfair.

Faucet is Kohler Bancroft.

Mirror: Uttermost.

Hand Towel: McGee.

Wood pot from HomeGoods.

Floor Tile: Wayfair.

Master Bathroom

This is our only bathroom upstairs, so it was important for us to keep a separate tub for our kids.  Paint color is Behr Light French Gray.

Paint Cabinet Color: Benjamin Moore Simply White.

Tile is Ceramiche Caesar Porcelain Tile in MORE Manhattan – similar here.

Rug is from HomeGoods – similar here & here.

Vanity: Pottery Barn.

Art Print from Serena & Lily.

Crytal knob by Emtek.

Tub: Wayfair.

Stool: Serena & Lily.

Master Bedroom

I love having a neutral bedroom that I can easily switch up by swapping out pillows and throws.

Bed: Wayfair.

Blue quilt from HomeGoods.

Throw: Etsy – similar here.

Full Length Mirror: here – similar.

Rug: Lulu & Georgia.

Textures

Bench from RJ Imports – similar here.

Duvet Cover: Anthropologie.

Wall Basket: here – similar.

Pillows: Velvet Pillows, Mudcloth Pillows, Lumbar – similar.

Stripe vase from Crate & Barrel.

Faux Stems: Crate & Barrel.

Nightstands from Crate & Barrel discontinued but similar ones here, here, here & here.

Paint Color

Paint color is Chantilly Lace by Benjamin Moore.

One of my favorite things about this house is the amount of closet space.  Our master has a his and hers closet.  The smaller one behind that door is the his, of course.  

Ladder is from Crate & Barrel.

DIY

The wall art here was an easy DIY.  I put mudcloth scraps in black frames to give this corner a boho chic look. 

Chair from HD Buttercup – other beautiful chairs: here, here, here & here.

Side table: here. 

Bench: here.

Dresser: Pottery Barn.

Desk

Desk from Restoration Hardware – other beautiful desks: here & here.

Chair is from IKEA – similar here.

Pillow: Serena & Lily.

Hanging planter is from Homegoods – similar here.

Baskets: Serena & Lily.

Rug is from Homegoods – similar here, here, here, here & here.

  Many thanks to Erin for sharing all of the details above.

Make sure to follow Erin on Instagram to see more of her beautiful home!

  Amazing End-of-Season Sales!

Thank you for shopping through Home Bunch. I would be happy to assist you if you have any questions or are looking for something in particular. Feel free to contact me and always make sure to check dimensions before ordering. Happy shopping!

  Serena & Lily: Tent Sale Up to 70% off! – Enjoy an Extra 20% OFF. Use Code HOORAY

  Wayfair: UP to 75% OFF – Huge Sales on Decor, Furniture & Rugs!!!

  Joss & Main: Best Prices of 2018 – Up to 70% Off

  Pottery Barn: Buy More, Save More – 20% Off Sidewide + Free shipping: use Code: HELLO19 

  One Kings Lane: Final Days to Save: Take an Extra 20% Off Markdowns with Code OKL20MORE.

  West Elm: Big New Year Sale: 20% Off Your Entire Purchase! Use Code: NEWYEAR

  Pier 1: Huge Sales – Up to 60% Off!

  Anthropologie: Winter Tag Sale: All sales at an extra 40% Off! Amazing!

  Posts of the Week:

2019 New Year Home Tour.

Family-friendly Home Design.

Christmas Inspiration.

Interior Design Ideas.

Small Lot Modern Farmhouse.

Transitional Home Design.

Newlyweds Home Design.

Family Home Renovation with Casual Interiors.

2018 Norton Children’s Hospital Raffle Home.

Beautiful Homes of Instagram: California Beach House.

Neutral Home Interior Ideas.

You can follow my pins here: Pinterest/HomeBunch

See more Inspiring Interior Design Ideas in my Archives.

“Dear God,

If I am wrong, right me. If I am lost, guide me. If I start to give-up, keep me going.

Lead me in Light and Love”.

Have a wonderful day, my friends and we’ll talk again tomorrow.”

with Love,

Luciane from HomeBunch.com

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[brisbanelife]

Rebecca Peters: 'I'm not afraid of horrific grief'

Normal text sizeLarger text sizeVery large text size Flory Teletor was 17 when she began living with her boyfriend, Santo, in a cramped apartment in Guatemala City. Santo, who was 20, worked as a security guard. He was violent and controlling. He gave Flory a daily allowance of 20 quetzals ($3.50). She had to account for every cent; when she failed to do so, he would beat her. Sometimes, he would brandish the pistol he used for work, even shooting above her head. Flory was terrified, but she had already fled an abusive father and had no other place to go. Then one evening, Santo came home in a rage. He had heard that Flory was cheating on him with the man in the apartment above. "He thought I had been writing this man letters," she says. "No matter what I told him, he didn't believe me." Santo came at Flory; she thought he was going to hit her. Instead, he pulled out his pistol and fired. "I was so frightened that I didn't hear the shot," she says. "All I knew was that suddenly I was lying on my back, and I couldn't stand up. My legs seemed incredibly heavy, like my shoes were concrete blocks." The bullet had severed Flory's spinal cord, instantly leaving her a paraplegic. Santo called an ambulance and Flory was rushed to hospital, where she spent the next two days in an intensive-care unit. When the police questioned him, Santo said there had been a robbery at the local bakery, and that Flory had been shot in the crossfire. "He told me to say the same thing," Flory explains. After her discharge, Flory went to live with her mother, father and grandmother. Santo also moved in. (He has never been charged with the shooting.) The father put her and Santo in a curtained-off space in one of the bedrooms. The mother, who worked as a cleaner, would change Flory's nappies and wash her using a bowl, tying her to a chair in the laundry so she didn't slump over. After a few months, one of her mother's clients bought Flory a wheelchair so she could move around the house. But her father continued to abuse her, complaining that she was a burden. He would get drunk, and beat her mother: when Flory tried to stop him, he beat her, too. "I had no control of my life," she tells me. "I was dying there." Eventually, Flory's sister Olga and her husband Edgar intervened, moving her into their house, a tin-roofed besa-block building that clings like a limpet to the side of a cliff in the city's north. (Santo had long since left.) The house, where I meet Flory, now 40, one mild afternoon in March, is home to seven people. It has a long drop toilet that juts out over the ravine: through the chinks in the wood-slat floor you can see the rocks and rubble, 100 metres below. But Flory loves it: she has her own room, with a small television and a stereo. Edgar treats her like a daughter. When she needs to get out of the house, to go to church or a rehab session, he carries her in his arms, like a baby, up a series of steep, rickety wooden steps and ladders to the street above. "He's an angel," Flory tells me. "He saved my life." Advertisement Flory Teletor, a victim of gun violence, needs to be carried up the steps to the street above her sister and brother-in-laws house in Guatemala City. Photo: Kate Geraghty Olga and Edgar's intervention was the first bit of good fortune to come Flory's way. Her second piece of luck, no less life-changing, came a decade later, when she met a quietly spoken Australian woman named Rebecca Peters. Peters, 56, has short, dark hair and blue eyes. The morning I meet her, in the old colonial city of Antigua, in southern Guatemala, she is wearing a pair of joggers, black baggy pants and a cherry-red T-shirt that is obviously and unapologetically synthetic. She walks briskly, with a slight limp, the result of joint hypermobility, and she is very, very short 155 centimetres which, for those of you who can't picture it, is roughly the same height as the average 12-year-old. ("The most common thing people say when they meet me is, 'I thought you'd be taller,'" she says.) As she doesn't get many Australian visitors, the first thing Peters does is take me to her place, a rented, one-room rooftop bungalow which looks out over the sepulchral ruins of Las Capuchinas convent, abandoned after an earthquake in 1773, towards the perennially active Volcn del Fuego. Sitting drinking coffee, we watch as the volcano's picture-perfect A-frame periodically burps out colossal black clouds of pyroclastic ash. Peters is, by general consensus, the world's foremost expert on gun control. She was the driving force behind tightening up Australia's gun laws after the Port Arthur massacre in 1996. (She was appointed an officer of the Order of Australia for her work in 2016.) She has developed gun control strategies for billionaire philanthropist George Soros, and headed up the London-based International Action Network on Small Arms (IANSA). When the UN needs advice on small arms trafficking, it calls Peters. When there's a conference in Argentina on guns and domestic violence, Peters hops on a plane. As the head of IANSA, she even consulted on the 2005 film, Lord of War, which starred Nicolas Cage as the lizardy, cigar-smoking arms dealer, Yuri Orlov. More recently, Peters has been working with the survivors of gun violence, most notably in Guatemala, where she has lived since 2014. Advertisement "Together with its neighbouring countries, Honduras and El Salvador, Guatemala is one of the most violent places on earth," she tells me. "Thousands of people get shot here every year. But what people don't realise is that for every fatality, roughly four people are wounded, many of them suffering catastrophic injuries." Faced with an almost complete absence of government assistance for victims, Peters has for the past four years engaged in a campaign of broad-based activism, mobilising the media and anti-gun groups while lobbying politicians to address the country's notoriously lax gun laws. She also raises funds, mainly for a local charity called Asociacin Transiciones de Guatemala, which makes wheelchairs for people disabled by gun violence the Australian government has funded 177 such chairs since 2014. The rest of her time is taken up with what might best be described as simple, grassroots social work; a kind of ad hoc pastoral care whereby she visits gunshot victims, delivers medicines and food to their families, and, on occasion, stands by their bedside while they die. "I have a high tolerance for tragedy," she explains. "I am not afraid of horrific grief." One of Peters' regulars is Flory Teletor. The day we visit, Peters takes Flory and her family a bucket of fried chicken, the arrival of which elicits a loaves-and-fishes level of gratitude. A couple of years ago, Peters got Flory a new wheelchair via Transiciones. Perhaps more importantly, she has always made sure to involve Flory in media opportunities and advocacy training. The impact of this cannot be overestimated. Balancing a plate of drumsticks on her lap, Flory says that on her worst days, when she sat in her room, alone and staring at the wall, she often asked herself, "What use am I?" The training has given her a sense of worth and purpose. "Rebecca makes me feel like I am needed, like I am important, like I matter," Flory says. Then, glancing at Peters, she smiles effortfully, and starts crying. On her worst days, Flory Teletor would sit in her room, alone and staring at the wall, asking herself, "What use am I?" Photo: Kate Geraghty Despite her success and the fact that there are thousands of people walking around today who would be dead if not for her work, Peters has next to no financial security. "She does it all on the smell of an oily rag," says the Australian social activist, Eva Cox, who has known Peters for 25 years. "She doesn't own a car, or a house, or shares, or superannuation. She is not motivated by that sort of thing, which makes it hard for people to understand her." Advertisement Peters earned less than $5000 last year, mostly from writing, editing or translating reports for human rights organisations. The year before that, the figure was a princely $20,000. Most of her money is spent on flights, sometimes to California, where her brother lives, or to see friends in Australia, where she sleeps in spare rooms or granny flats. "She is not of this world," says her friend, Fairfax Media cartoonist Cathy Wilcox. "She'll turn up in a T-shirt, shorts and sandals. Clothes, food, all that stuff, it's all functional for her. They serve a purpose but beyond that, they're not worth worrying about." Peters' main assets appear to be insomnia (it gives her more time to think), her independence (she has no partner, and no children) and what she calls a "perpetual state of outrage". "It's unacceptable to me that the people who most need help are the ones who are least likely to get it," she says. Peters was born in 1961, in Maryland, near Washington DC, the second of six children. The family moved to Panama when she was three, then to Costa Rica when she was seven. (She speaks fluent Spanish.) Her father, who ran a car repair business, was cruel and abusive, physically and emotionally, "a charming, sinister man", as she puts it, who delighted in humiliating his children. "Our father was a tyrant," says Peters' younger brother, Tim, who lives in San Francisco. "We were all overwhelmed by insecurity and adapted in our own ways. Rebecca took shelter at the homes of friends and teachers, or the school library." Tim says Rebecca's "sensitivity to injustice was evident early on". At 15, she organised a blood drive for Costa Rica's National Blood Bank, with donors bussed in to her school; she even faked her age so that she could donate. Desperate to escape home, she left, at 18, to go travelling, first to Europe and then to Egypt, where she met an Australian who convinced her to move to Sydney, where she decided to settle. "I was struck by the gorgeous beaches and the egalitarian feel of the place," she says. "At the shops, the customers didn't talk down to the shop assistants." (Peters and the boyfriend split, amicably, shortly after arrival; in 1992, she became a citizen.) Advertisement After a year studying mechanical engineering in the late 1980s, Peters moved into journalism, working as a producer on Andrew Olle's radio program, and then for John Doyle's. She favoured social justice stories: homelessness, HIV, disability, domestic violence. "The criminal justice system was toxic as well," she says. "I thought, 'Who changes these things? People with law degrees!' And so I went to law school." Peters enrolled at UNSW, but she had been studying for only a matter of months when, in August 1991, a 33-year-old taxi driver named Wade Frankum stabbed to death a teenage girl before using a semi-automatic rifle to shoot and kill another seven people, including himself, in a shopping mall in Strathfield, Sydney. The killings, known as the Strathfield Massacre, attracted huge media attention and prompted Peters to look into the gun laws. "They were shocking," she says. "It was ridiculously easy to get a gun, including an assault weapon. Anyone without a serious criminal record could buy any number of rifles and shotguns legally, without providing a reason. And because there was no registration that is, no record of ownership there was nothing to stop that person from selling the guns on to someone who did have a serious criminal record." She decided to write an article about it, in the process of which she got in touch with the National Coalition for Gun Control (NCGC). Peters began volunteering for the group, in the first instance by preparing a comparative analysis of Australia's different state gun laws. "The more I looked at the whole area, the more it interested me," she says. (The analysis eventually became part of her degree thesis.) As Peters discovered, there was a long list of things wrong with the laws. "Journalists on deadlines were never going to get it," she says. And so she put together an explanatory cheat sheet. "We said what was needed were national uniform laws based on three things: registration of all guns, a ban on semi-automatics, and proof of reason for owning a gun." At the same time, she recruited the public health professor and tobacco reform advocate, Simon Chapman. "Rebecca said that all the people in the gun reform area were women, and that they needed a male voice in there," he says. Together with their colleagues, Chapman and Peters began "power-mapping" lobbying the groups that had the authority to influence public opinion, from unions and medical colleges to women's organisations, legal centres, and welfare agencies. (Peters eventually established a coalition of 350 such groups.) They also decided to frame gun violence less as a crime issue and more as a public health problem. "We broke it down into the classic epidemiological model of agent, host, vector and environment," says Chapman. "With malaria, for instance, the agent is the Plasmodium parasite, the vector is the carrier mosquito, the host is the person who gets bitten, and so on. With gun reform, the agent was the gun, the host was the victim, the vector was the gun lobby, and the environment is the public and political climate around the issue." Advertisement Their messaging became clearer. "We register cars, boats and dogs," Chapman told the media. "So why don't we register guns?" He and Peters also began lurking around internet chat rooms used by shooters. "We'd use pseudonyms and write things like, 'Hey fellas, I actually don't think a little regulation is a bad idea,' " Chapman says. "We'd then see how people responded, and that would help us shape our arguments in future." It was time-consuming, emotionally taxing work. It was also unpaid. To get by, Peters took on freelance writing jobs. She shuffled her law lectures to make time, and would regularly study all night. "Rebecca was so broke we would pay her phone bills," says her friend Rosemary Quinn, who lived with Peters in a share house in Glebe. In late 1995, however, Peters got a call from a man named Alan Corbett. Idealistic and softly spoken, Corbett had just been elected to NSW Parliament as the leader of A Better Future for Our Children Party. Peters was initially wary: "I thought he might be some crackpot, right-wing, family-values guy," she says. "In fact, he was this fabulous single-dad primary school teacher who just happened to think that every policy should be evaluated on its likely impact on children." Corbett wanted Peters to help him prepare a bill to tighten up gun legislation. "Rebecca had the knowledge and the commitment," Corbett tells me. "I was really guided by what she thought was necessary." Peters drew on her thesis work, cherry-picking the most useful pieces of legislation from all over the world. The bill, which proposed, among other things, mandatory gun registration of all firearms, was supported by the church, police and the media. But before it could even get to parliament, both major parties had effectively rejected it. In February 1996, John Tingle, then-leader of the Shooters' Party, went so far as to describe it as "a pathetic piece of publicity-seeking nonsense". Tingle's comments were spectacularly ill-timed. On April 28, a 28-year-old Hobart man named Martin Bryant used two semi-automatic rifles to kill 35 people and injure 23 more at Port Arthur, in Tasmania. It remains the deadliest mass shooting in Australian history. Port Arthur killer Martin Bryant. Photo: Archive Peters was aghast: "I remember listening on the radio as the death toll went higher and higher." And yet the response was, she says, "exactly what we thought would happen". The media called for immediate action, citing Peters' three-point plan, as did politicians, backed by the broad coalition of community and professional organisations that Peters and the NCGC had so effectively mobilised. Within 12 days, prime minister John Howard produced the National Firearms Agreement (NFA), the 11 key points of which closely mirrored everything the NCGC had been pressing for, including uniform gun registration, a ban on civilian ownership of semi-automatic weapons, and a removal of self-defence as a reason to hold a firearm licence. "As soon as the NFA came out, the state and territory parliaments scrambled to draft legislation," Peters says, "which is when the NSW Parliamentary Counsel pulled out the bill Alan and I had done and said, 'Here's one we prepared earlier!'" Guns in Sydney to be destroyed under the post-Port Arthur buy-back scheme. Photo: Reuters NSW was the first state to pass a new law; most of the other states followed within the year. Peters was in the media every day for the next 13 weeks, and spent months travelling the country, persuading state legislatures to implement the NFA in full. By mid-year, she was running on empty. "You could tell she was exhausted," says Walter Mikac, who lost his wife and two young daughters at Port Arthur. "When I met her, it was actually an effort for her to walk." Peters received not so much as a cent for her efforts. But the laws she helped create were soon being heralded by gun-reform activists as world's best practice. "Rebecca's campaign was a remarkable piece of social mobilisation," says Professor Simon Rice, an expert in law reform and social justice at the University of Sydney. "It set a new benchmark for community empowerment in Australia." The 1991 Strathfield massacre prompted Peters to look into Australia's gun laws. "It was ridiculously easy to get a gun, including an assault weapon," she says. Photo: Kate Geraghty When Peters was young, one of her sisters occasionally wet the bed. Rather than comfort her, Peters' father would humiliate her in public. "He actually got pleasure out of doing that," Peters says. He would routinely belittle his children and dismiss their opinions, or go away and not say when he was coming back. "It was his way of exerting control," Peters says. "What we had then was this guy who was bigger and stronger and had more power, using that to control the whole household. And that's the problem with guns, right? The person with a gun acquires a disproportionate amount of power over those around them." Guns are, at their very core, weaponised bullying, which makes confronting the gun lobby particularly daunting. After the Australian gun reforms were introduced, Peters' home address was published on an internet bulletin board. She had a brick thrown through her window, received multiple death threats, and had to move house. "The gun debate tends to be very gendered," she says. "My voicemail filled up with all these weird messages, saying things like, 'You wouldn't know a gun if I put my .303 up your c and pulled the trigger.' " She was later accused in the Queensland Parliament of having had a sex change, and of wanting to sell crack, heroin and speed to children. A televised debate about guns and domestic violence with the then-vice-president of the Firearm Owners' Association, Ian McNiven, turned ugly: at the end of the broadcast, McNiven was caught in an off-camera aside saying, "If I was married to Rebecca I'd probably commit domestic violence, too." Most bizarrely, it was later suggested that she may have had something to do with the Port Arthur shootings, as a way to further her anti-gun agenda. Peters has long been regarded by the gun lobby as a Svengali-like figure, part of a global cabal of neo-Marxist zealots plotting, under the aegis of the UN, to rob law-abiding patriots of their ability to defend themselves. She became a particular target after she travelled to the US in 1997, where she worked with George Soros's Open Society Institute (now Open Society Foundations). Peters' job was to make strategic grants, from a fund of $US15 million, to groups working to prevent gun violence, mostly in the US. She used Soros's money to support gun research in universities, and to fund litigation against the gun industry. She was also the first backer of the Million Mom March, a gun reform rally held in 2000 in Washington DC, which was until this year the largest mass movement against gun violence in America. "Rebecca was there at the very beginning," says march founder Donna Dees-Thomases. "When you look at all the activists in the movement now, many of them have come in since that first march. That wouldn't have happened if not for her." The Million Mom March in Washington DC in 2000. Peters was one of the rally's first backers, and is still active in US gun reform. Photo: AP Even though she lives in Guatemala, Peters still devotes much of her time to US gun reform. She is regularly consulted by state legislators looking to improve their gun laws by, for example, regulating the sale of ammunition, which in some places can be sold over the counter at a corner store or petrol station. "They often want to know what happens in Australia," says Peters. Background checks are another problem. "In the US, when police decide whether someone can have a gun, they rely on what their computer databases say about that person's criminal record. But the majority of people are not in these databases, because most crime is never reported, and most of the crime that is reported is not prosecuted and most of those prosecuted are not convicted. So if you just rely on that criminal justice system to decide if someone should have a gun, then it's hopelessly inadequate." Efforts to improve vetting procedures have long been blocked by the National Rifle Association (NRA), which has more than five million members, and is among the most powerful lobbying groups in Washington. (The NRA sees itself as the first defender of the US Constitution's Second Amendment the oft-cited "right to bear arms".) "There are other factors as well," Peters says, "such as the private prison companies that have an interest in maintaining high levels of violence." But the fundamental problem is cultural, based in large part on the deeply ingrained ethos of American individualism. "In Australia and Europe, police have the discretion to make in-depth inquiries before a person can buy a gun, because the overriding purpose is to protect public safety. In the US, though, public safety is trumped by the individual rights of the person who wants to buy the gun. It's like a nation of toddlers saying, 'I want it, I want it!'" This creates a bizarre, not to say dangerous, kind of reality-distortion field. In 2004, during a debate with NRA chief executive Wayne LaPierre, Peters claimed that, when it came to international agreements on weapons and human rights, "Americans are people like everyone else on earth. They should abide by the same rules as everyone else." LaPierre found the line shocking. "He used it all the time, like, 'Rebecca Peters says that Americans are just like everyone else!' Other people you'd talk to would be like, 'Yeah, what's the problem with that?' But he just thought it was outrageous." Rebecca Peters in 2014, lobbying a UN meeting on behalf of the International Action Network on Small Arms. In 2002, Peters left for London, where she became the first director of the International Action Network on Small Arms (IANSA). Formed in 1999, IANSA is a global movement against gun violence, a network of some 900 civil society organisations, including human rights campaigners, aid agencies and public health groups, that now operates in 120 countries. "It was a huge job, with not enough resources," Peters says. It was also her first experience with what she calls the "international humanitarian industrial complex". While IANSA was more thrifty than most, Peters was nonetheless dismayed by the profligacy and egotism that typified the sector. "There were giant amounts being spent on travel budgets and airlines and big hotels in Geneva and New York. Faced with the amount of stuff that needs doing in poor countries, for people to be focused on themselves seemed wrong to me." IANSA has had its victories: together with Amnesty International and Oxfam, it campaigned for the Arms Trade Treaty, which came into effect in 2014. Along with other groups, IANSA also successfully lobbied postmilitary governments in Latin America, Asia and the Middle East to ensure that civil society and not just the military had a role in debating weapons policy. But Peters' role at IANSA felt increasingly remote. "Public health is like that," she says. "Very global, big-picture. You never know who you're helping, which is part of the reason I'm in Guatemala. Here I can see exactly whose lives I'm making a difference in." Peters with Alex Glvez, one of the founders of Asociacin Transiciones, a grassroots charity that salvages wheelchairs and gives them to the victims of gun violence. Photo: Kate Geraghty Transiciones was founded in 1996 by local man Alex Glvez, who is himself in a wheelchair, and an American doctor named John Bell. (Bell has since moved on.) Peters first came across the group in the late 1990s when she was invited to Guatemala to lead a workshop on gun violence. Transiciones was unique, she says, "in that out of the many hundreds of NGOs in this area, it was the only one bringing the perspective of people whose bodies had actually been entered by bullets". Based in a Mission-style building on the outskirts of Antigua, the charity operates a workshop where a handful of technicians, most of them disabled, repair wheelchairs or build new ones using parts that have either been salvaged or donated, usually from the US. The charity has given away a thousand wheelchairs so far. In my naivety, I had assumed that all wheelchairs were the same. "No, no!" Glvez says. Wheelchairs made for pushing patients along a tiled hospital corridor are different to wheelchairs designed for people to get themselves about. And then, which wheelchair you need depends on whether you live in a village with dirt roads or one with pavements, and also varies according to your height, weight, disability and factors like arm strength. "Because [the technicians] are in wheelchairs," says Glvez, "they understand these kinds of things." He talks of Peters with something approaching awe. "She has a lot of other big responsibilities with the UN and in other countries, but she has decided to invest her effort in Transiciones. She's made a huge difference she's raised most of the funds for us." Some weeks after returning to Australia, I call Peters with some follow-up questions. She is in New York with Glvez, who had spoken the day before at the UN about the need for better regulation of ammunition. There were 600 people in the audience, from almost every nation on earth, and he was very nervous. He spoke about the bullet that paralysed him a .38 and how there are still fragments of it in his body. After the address, Peters and Glvez went outside the UN headquarters and posed beside Non-Violence, the bronze sculpture by late Swedish artist Carl Fredrik Reuterswrd of a revolver with a knotted barrel. Inspired by the fatal shooting of John Lennon in 1980, the artwork has become a global symbol of peace. "I love that sculpture," Peters says. "It's so simple and powerful. So much of the conversation about gun violence is about geopolitics and lofty ideals. But really, when it comes down to it, it's about the gun. That's what makes people die." To read more from Good Weekend magazine, visit our page at The Sydney Morning Herald or The Age.

Tim Elliott is a features and investigations journalist for The Sydney Morning Herald. Most Viewed in World Loading Morning & Afternoon NewsletterDelivered MonFri. https://www.brisbanetimes.com.au/world/south-america/rebecca-peters-i-m-not-afraid-of-horrific-grief-20180703-p4zp80.html?utm_medium=rss&utm_source=rss_feed