#also when the camera decided to focus on me he said I was photogenic and then corrected the pronoun with no reminder

[cesium-sheep]

matt wanted to watch an extra movie since I wasn’t feeling well so we watched plan 9, it is as easy to be fond of as I remember it. it was nice but I was very out of it and my neck hurts now. after he ended the call to go to bed arin told me I have two partners that love me very much. she worries about him being lonely since at least she and I are in the same place. (also beforehand she sent me the video I requested after that last really bad flashback night that she kinda remembered because of talking about stuff today, and she did what she could to like heat up soup and refill water bottles and stuff for me.)

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Winning the Championship Date

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 夺冠之约, which has not been released in EN! 🍒

[ Released on 28 September 2021 ]

The vibrations of my phone rouse me from the tediously long document. After looking at the caller, I answer it hurriedly.

MC: Gavin? Has your mission ended?

Gavin (on the phone): Soon. I’ll be back before the weekend. I should be able to make it in time for that café event you mentioned.

I suddenly recall how I had mentioned this event to Gavin before he left for the mission last month, but...

MC: Sob sob. I can’t go this weekend. I’m producing a new show, so I’ve been busier lately.

Gavin (on the phone): Is it a difficult show?

MC: A little bit... Come to think of it, Gavin, what type of sports shows appeal to you?

Gavin (on the phone): ...appeal to me? Competitive sports with commentators.

Just as I’m hesitating on whether to tell him about the problems I’m facing, someone on the other end of the line seems to be calling for him.

MC: Go and do your thing. I’m not facing any issues.

Gavin (on the phone): Okay. Contact me anytime if needed.

Right after hanging up, Minor knocks on the door and comes in.

Minor: Boss, I’ve made the arrangements for the collaborative filming of “Life’s Limits” with the City Sports and Culture Bureau. As per your request, I’ve selected a group of amateur racing hobbyists. The name list and materials have been sent to your e-mail.

MC: You’ve worked hard.

Minor: Boss, why don’t you take a break? Your dark circles have appeared.

MC: The company competing with us for this project is Light Media, and it’s much more experienced in producing sports shows as compared to us. We can’t let our guard down.

After more than half a month of research, I locked in my decision regarding the filming site - Hurricane Club.

This club is very well-known amongst motorcycle enthusiasts, and often organises competitions for amateurs.

This weekend, the club will be conducting a three-day training, and participants will be guided by professional coaches. There will even be a friendly race at the end.

The competition has a very novel format - it’s a three-person relay.

I intend to search for three photogenic motorists to form a small team. By following their daily experiences throughout the entire process, including their training sessions and the race, I’d produce a story about the team.

Minor: Boss, according to your request, isn’t the best choice Bro Gavin?

MC: That’s true...

During the initial planning stage, the first person I thought of was actually Gavin.

However, he doesn’t like appearing on shows, and was only willing to appear in previous shows because of me.

Moreover, he’s been away for a mission which lasted close to a month, and should get a proper rest over the weekend.

MC: In short, he... doesn’t quite fit the standard. You can leave work for now.

After sending Minor away, I re-focus on the thick stack of materials in front of me.

-

Before the peak hour on Friday, I head towards Hurricane Club in a rental car. While doing pre-filming checks, I answer the phone.

Minor: Boss, the three people we agreed on have set out. I’ve also found a suitable substitute. After careful selection, he’s definitely a top quality choice. I can guarantee that nothing will go wrong! You’ll get to see him once you reach the club! Boss, thanks for your hard work!

Before I have a chance to probe further, the dial tone sounds in the next second.

MC: This fellow is once again acting first before reporting afterwards... there shouldn’t be a problem, right?

Upon reaching the club, I meet up with the three team members we had contacted earlier.

Based on background research conducted by the company, they are generally outstanding, and are very enthusiastic when it comes to racing.

One of them is a young participant called Kelly, who obtained an amateur championship title in the past.

I quickly introduce the details of the shoot to them.

MC: Bro Liu, Xiao Yu, Kelly, thank you all for participating in this shoot. Afterwards, the club will be allocating you to your coaches for guidance. Even though this team was put together at short notice, I hope everyone can have faith in each other, and motivate each other. We also prepared a substitute team member...

??: Sorry I’m late.

A familiar voice drifts from behind me, and I immediately turn around.

Sunlight falls on every step Gavin takes towards me. The pair of eyes looking at me are bright and clear.

Gavin: I’m the substitute team member, Gavin. I’ve kept you waiting, Producer.

-

After the club assigns the coaches and enters the test run phase, I finally digest the “unexpected surprise” of Gavin’s sudden appearance.

I initially think of finding a chance to talk to him privately, but the coaches who arrive one after another leave me with no choice but to retract the gaze which keeps straying towards that figure.

I shake my head, forcing myself to focus on my current task. By the time all the filming angles are checked, most of the morning has already gone by.

Scanning my surroundings, I don’t see Gavin anywhere.

MC: ...where is he?

-

Walking along the racetrack and towards the vending machine, I decide to get a bottle of coffee to fill myself up before looking for Gavin.

Perhaps because I didn’t have breakfast, I suddenly feel dizzy after taking a few sips.

By the time I regain my senses, I’m carried over to a long bench by a familiar force. Meeting Gavin’s evidently frantic gaze, I quickly tug the corners of my lips upwards into a smile.

MC: Gavin, I was just about to look for you. Turns out you were here.

He doesn’t speak. Lifting his hand, he wipes away the thin sheen of sweat on my forehead lightly. Then, a breeze envelops me gently, warm and comforting.

He takes the coffee in my hand smoothly, then retrieves soya milk and a sandwich from the bag in his hand.

Gavin: Eat your breakfast.

MC: ...okay, I’ll listen to Sir Gavin.

I munch on the sandwich obediently, occasionally blinking at Gavin to convey a message which says, “I feel much better, so there’s no need to worry”.

Gavin’s slightly furrowed brows finally arch subconsciously.

Gavin: I heard from Minor that you’ve been working overnight to prepare for this show.

MC: Haha, don’t listen to his nonsense. It isn’t that exaggerated...

Gavin: I also heard that I didn’t fit the standard. What standard did you set?

MC: ...

I clench my fists in secret, condemning Minor from the bottom of my heart for his “heinous act” of betraying me.

MC: I can explain! You don’t like appearing on camera, and your identity in STF is a pretty sensitive topic...

Gavin: Mm, you’re right.

Gavin deliberately elongates his words, as though he doesn’t plan to let the matter go just like this.

Gavin: So what’s your standard?

MC: ...we hope for the motorists to have a certain level of professional competence, to be sufficiently photogenic, and most importantly, to have an enthusiastic heart. But I really didn’t mean to say that you didn’t fit this standard!

Gavin is finally unable to suppress the upward turn of his lips.

Gavin: Once you’re done today, sleep early tonight.

-

The training proceeds methodically, and filming goes very smoothly.

The roar of motors drift from the club’s racetrack, and motorcycles of every hue speed freely along the racetrack.

In the camera lens, two blue and white motorcycles seem to be speeding at the same pace, as though they’d break through the finish line at the same time.

Kelly: Have you ever participated in professional racing?

Gavin: Nope.

Kelly: The way you cornered the motorcycle a few times - you can’t do that with ease without a few years of experience. How did you do it?

Gavin: I just drive often.

Kelly: Let’s find a chance to ride together some time.

Kelly pats him on the shoulder before continuing the training. Gavin walks over to me, twisting open a bottle of water before taking a sip.

Gavin: Is filming going well?

MC: There’s too much footage from the training sessions. I might consider adding a special segment for interviews.

While speaking, I’m struck with an idea.

MC: Mr Gavin, why don’t you have a pre-interview with me to test out the effects?

I lift a bottle of water towards Gavin. 

MC: What made you like motorcycles?

Gavin: I don’t have a precise answer. By the time I realised it, I already liked them.

MC: In that case, are there any motorcycle-related experiences which left a deep impression on you?

Gavin is silent for a moment. He seems to think of something, then chuckles softly.

Gavin: The time it overturned.

MC: Overturned? When did that happen? You can tell me in secret - this will definitely not be disclosed to the public.

Gavin looks at me, and he speaks in a volume only the both of us can hear -

Gavin: [whispers] The time when I rode on a snowmobile with the girl I like.

The snow field in my memories is cold, but the breath at my ear causes the temperature of my ear to rise.

[Note] This is a reference to Snow Mountain Date

MC: [blushing] Cough, that was...

All of a sudden, a clamour from the racetrack interrupts my words. The both of us stand up, only to discover that a motorcycle has overturned on the track.

Many people are standing at the side, and some call out for the medical staff.

Gavin: That seems to be Old Liu. Let’s go over to have a look.

-

Doctor: There are soft tissue injuries to your wrist and leg. Recuperate properly over this duration, and don’t engage in any intense activities.

Bro Liu: What about the competition tomorrow...

MC: Bro Liu, just recuperate. The doctor said that once your injuries are healed, you can still ride motorcycles in the future.

Bro Liu glances at Gavin.

Bro Liu: I guess I must admit that I’m getting old. It’s time to hand the baton to the young.

After contacting Minor and telling him about what happened, Gavin and I leave the hospital.

MC: Bro Liu worked so hard over the past two days. He must have really wanted to participate in tomorrow’s competition...

Gavin: In that case, we’ll work hard together with his effort. This is when the substitute steps in.

-

It’s the night before the competition, and I’m looking through the contents of the edited shoot over the past two days in my room.

After cutting the cornering training, I modify it into a slow-motion feature, then insert a few casual interactions between the team members as embellishments.

But no matter how I edit it, the clip is unable to convey the feelings I hoped it would.

I grab my hair in frustration, unwilling to accept my defeat. I locate the original video, watching it from the start.

The sound of the doorbell interrupts my slightly muddy train of thoughts. Opening the door, I see Gavin standing outside.

Gavin: I saw that the lights were still on in your room, so I came over to take a look. Why aren’t you sleeping?

MC: Gavin...

Hearing the gloominess in my tone, he takes my hand and pulls me over to sit down on the sofa.

Gavin: Filming didn’t go well?

Placing the notebook laptop between us, I play the recording.

MC: For this shoot, I wanted to edit it into a small unscripted story to showcase the competitiveness and fun of being a racer. As of now, the story aspect is going smoothly, and the interactions between people are interesting too. But I think it’s missing something which can grab one’s attention immediately...

Gavin looks at the screen and ponders for a moment. Then, he suddenly asks me a question.

Gavin: Want to go for a stroll? It’s too stuffy in the room. Getting some fresh air might give you new inspiration.

-

Likely to conserve energy for the competition tomorrow, everyone has returned to rest very early, and the racetrack is completely empty.

Gavin leaps onto the bleachers, then reaches out to me.

Gavin: Let’s go for a spin.

He takes my hand, guiding me onto the vehicle. Then, he puts on a helmet for me, teaching me how to grab the throttle and brakes.

MC: Gavin, are you sure this is okay?

Gavin: You can’t go onto the road, but we’re still within the venue. After filming for days, don’t you want to experience it yourself?

MC: I want to!

Gavin sits behind me, two arms securing me steadily in his arms.

Along with the familiar sound of the engine, the motorcycle moves. The speed is incredibly steady, and is just right for enjoying the pleasant evening breeze.

MC: Gavin, can we go a little faster?

Gavin: We can. Sit tight.

A loud roar drifts to my ears, and the motorcycle flies forward like an arrow leaving a bow.

Very soon, the most difficult part of the racetrack appears, comprising of consecutive bends. During the training sessions, many motorists faced many trials at this area.

Gavin grips my hand, loosening the throttle, causing the the motorcycle to slow down.

MC: There’s no need to step on the brakes?

Gavin: No need. Engine braking is enough to reduce the speed.

While speaking, the motorcycle tilts at an unbelievable angle at a turn. Gavin controls the direction with composure, air currents at the side keeping the motorcycle steady.

The motorcycle dangerously yet steadily completes the curved track, returning onto a straight track and picking up speed once again.

Gavin: MC, can you see where the cameras are? That’s the goal. On the racetrack, that’s the only thing in a racer’s eyes.

The sound of wind at my ears seems to quieten down. The moment we charge past the finishing line, I suddenly have a feeling that a full stop has been drawn on the racetrack.

Even after the motorcycle makes its gradual halt, I’m unable to return to my senses.

Seeming to understand my silence, Gavin doesn’t speak. He simply pushes the motorcycle that I'm on patiently, walking slowly.

MC: Gavin, I know what this story is missing. Stirring the emotions of viewers requires the most important thing which can make them seethe with excitement -

Gavin: Winning the championship.

MC: That’s right. All the effort from before is meant for the final sprint towards the goal. Winning the championship is the core of a competitive spirit, and is also what the show’s theme of “limit” is seeking after. But... Gavin, do you think we have a chance at winning the championship tomorrow?

Gavin: Yes. But while we’re improving, others are improving as well. Everyone on the racetrack will be aiming towards victory. The people you selected are very outstanding. Believe in them, and believe in yourself.

MC: Mm, everyone has already worked very hard. When it comes to winning, it’s good enough if they try their best.

Gavin parks the motorcycle properly, then carries me down from it.

Gavin: Go back and have a good sleep. You don’t have to worry too much about the competition tomorrow.

-

It’s finally time for the competition. Seeing the filled audience seats, I feel incredibly nervous.

Kelly: I didn't expect to see so many people.

MC: It’s a Sunday, and the club decided to open the venue to the public as publicity.

I take a deep breath to calm my emotions.

MC: Let’s enjoy the fun of racing to our heart’s content! Shall we do a pre-competition ceremony?

While speaking, I stretch out my hand. Gavin cooperates, placing his palm over the back of my hand. He gives it a gentle pinch, and it feels as though an endless stream of strength is being transmitted.

It’s a sense of security belonging only to Gavin.

MC: Safety first, the competition second. Everyone, all the best!

All the motorists have taken their places at the starting line. Based on prior suggestions by the club, I’ve arranged Kelly to take on the first battle, and Gavin will be the finale.

With the green light signalling the start of the competition, twenty motorcycles which have been waiting for action seem to sprint forward at the same time.

The sound of motor engines causes everyone’s adrenaline to spike, and the crowd becomes immersed in the competition.

I’m positioned closest to the audience seats. This is the first time I’m viewing a competition from such a close distance. Even though it’s an amateur competition, it’s sufficiently astounding.

Xiao Yu makes a few minor mistakes at the bends, causing the team to lag behind temporarily.

Carefully observing the changes on the racetrack, I don’t feel overly anxious.

Because it’d be Gavin’s turn next. With him around, I always feel exceptionally at ease.

I look at Gavin as he waits at the handover area with a helmet over his head. He seems to sense my gaze, and turns around to see my thumbs up.

In the next second, his motorcycle charges into the racetrack.

The blue and white motorcycle courses past the bends nimbly in almost “L” shape movements.

As compared to my experience last night, I can see Gavin’s cornering techniques even more clearly from the audience seats.

Although the camera is unable to capture his expression, it isn’t difficult to imagine his focused and bright eyes from underneath the helmet.

When the competition enters its final round, Gavin has already reached the second place, and there’s hardly any difference between him and the first competitor.

The audience’s emotions are stirred by this intense competition, and the sound of cheers surge forward like a tide.

I find myself being influenced as well, staring fixedly at that sprinting figure.

After the upcoming bend, the goal will not be far.

Unexpectedly, a motorcycle behind suddenly accelerates towards the bend, using its full strength to make a last effort.

However, the motorcycle tilts too much. It’s clear that the centre of gravity was not controlled properly, sending the motorist collapsing onto the track.

At this point, Gavin’s motorcycle is already over half of the bend. He controls the dip of the motorcycle, barely avoiding the fallen vehicle.

Because of this incident, some distance is pulled between himself and the motorist in first place.

On the straight road, Gavin’s motorcycle suddenly accelerates, keeping pace with the motorist in front.

In this moment, time seems to slow down. I hold my breath, feeling as though my spirit has become one with that sprinting figure.

The rustling of leaves, the flapping wings of birds, the yelling of the audience, the checkered flag waving mid-air... all of them gather into one voice-

Announcer: The first place goes to No. 07!

On the big screen, Gavin’s name is listed impressively at the top.

At the final moment, he attained first place with a 0.06 second difference, winning the championship.

Gavin did it!

The motorcycle comes to a gradual halt. Gavin removes his helmet, droplets of sweat reflecting bright rays of light beneath the sunlight.

The smile on his face is sparkling and dazzling, bringing with it the confidence belonging to a victor.

Such a result is both unexpected yet within my expectations.

Gavin turns around, looking squarely in my direction.

He shakes his head casually, which has gotten messy from his helmet, and says two words.

Gavin: We won.

-

The employees push the motorcycles back to the venue. Gavin heads over to the referee’s seat, lowers his head and says a few things before walking to me.

The gold medal in his hand dangles slightly, reflecting a dazzling light.

Cheers from the surroundings grow brighter as he draws closer. Separated by the bleachers, he stretches out his hand towards me -

He leans over the bleachers slightly. As he draws closer, I can detect the scent belonging only to Gavin.

Gavin hangs the medal around my neck, announcing our victory.

Gavin: The champion title - we’ve got it.

My mouth opens, but I have no idea what to say. My body reacts faster than my brain. I stretch out both arms, hugging him with all the strength in my body.

Scorching warmth and the dampness of sweat from the competition linger on him.

Gavin returns the embrace. It’s as though this hug is enough for us to understand each other’s sentiments.

Gavin: I think I heard you cheering me on.

MC: I did it so softly, but you could hear it?

Gavin: Mm, the wind told me. Everything you say - I can hear them.

MC: There’s still one thing the wind hasn’t had the time to tell you. I’ll say it myself right now.

Turning my face to the side, I bring it close to his ear.

MC: Gavin, you’ll always be the only champion in my heart.

🏍 Call and Moments: here

🏍 Art based on this date: here

🏍 Support the café by dropping by the tip jar!

[liberty-barnes]

Tom being in love with your baby niece

Tom Holland x Female!Reader

Prompt: You meet Tom at a hospital and he’s immediately infatuated with the little girl in your lap (inspired by this video I found on tiktok)

Warnings: F L U F F, Tom being amazing with kids, mentions of alcoholic/drug addict mother, mentions of child abandonment, but overall fluff and feel good story

Word Count: 2379 words (this was supposed to be short but oh well)

Estimated Reading Time: 9 minutes

A/N: me, sweating profusely: calm down, just finish writing this, you are stronger than your baby fever, you are too young to have a child CALM TF DOWN

Masterlist

So, funny story, you met at the hospital

Tom had dislocated his shoulder while doing a backflip *dejected sigh*

And you were just trying to keep your baby niece calm while waiting for the nurse to come get you

You were sitting on the bed, Tom was right next to you, only a curtain separating you

But there was a tiny crack near the end from where it was pulled too far

And when you pressed Olivia closer to your chest, her head resting on your shoulder, she made eye contact with him

He saw her tear-filled eyes

(broke his heart)

So he started to make funny faces at her

Which made her start to giggle and coo and make grabby hands towards him

You turned around, visibly confused because hellooo she was just crying a second ago and now she’s???laughing???

And then you saw him

oh shit he’s hot

He smiled at you

You smiled back, cause what else are you supposed to do?

He got up and pushed the curtains back 

And sat on the chair instead

Still on his side of the curtain

But looking at you straight in the eye now

“So... what’s a pretty girl like you doing in a nasty place like this?”

Poor boy thought he was smooth

But he rested his weight on his injured arm

(that idiot) 

And it lead to him hissing in pain and cradling his shoulder with a pout while you laughed

“Fell down the stairs and twisted my ankle. You?”

“Dislocated my shoulder while doing a backflip.”

Meanwhile Liv was now resting on your lap

Looking at him with a smile on her face

And clapping while he smiled at made funny faces at her again

But then he noticed you were watching

And he was kinda making a fool of himself in front of you

(cue the blushing)

(so cute)

So you decided to help him out a little

"Thanks for putting her in a good mood again."

"No problem... is she yours?"

He didn't want to seem rude so he kept the judgment out of his voice, but you seemed a bit young to have a kid already.

"Nah, she's my niece"

"Oh, okay... Why'd you bring her to the hospital with you? It must be hard having to take care of a kid and get your ankle checked."

You looked a bit sad for a while.

"My sister left her with me as soon as I turned eighteen. My parents were never in the picture so it's been me and her for almost a year now."

"I'm sorry..."

"'S okay. Besides, at least I'm not alone all the time you now? I mean, it's hard to take care of a 13 month-old, but at least I know she won't grow up like I did... afraid... wondering if her mom was gonna come home drunk or half-dressed with another guy on her tail, wishing her sister would let her sleep on the bed instead of locking herself up with her boyfriend there."

He watched you smile as you looked down at the little girl in your arms that seemed to be a perfect reflection of you.

That was the moment he fell in love with you

Dark circles under your eyes and all

He got your number (yay!!) and had to work (read: pester you) for two weeks before you agreed to go out on a date with him.

Liv stayed with Harrison (after you checked that he was a good babysitter)

He took you to a nice little restaurant near the beach

They served giant burgers

Which you liked at lot

Conversation was easy 

He asked you what you were currently doing

"I'm working as a waitress in a little diner downtown."

He also found out you were doing online college to get your creative writing degree.

You told him about your family life. 

How your dad died in a car accident when you were three. 

How your mom was an alcoholic junkie and OD'd when you were fifteen.

How your nineteen-year-old sister had to take care of you for there on out. 

How she left soon after you graduated high school and left you with a three-month-old baby to take care of.

In turn, he told you all about his life

How he became an actor and got his big break as Spider-Man

He told you about his family and how much he misses them

How thankful he is to have Haz with him

You excused yourself to the bathroom just before dessert

And that bastard took advantage of that tiny window to pay the bill

You scolded him for that obviously

And tried to pay him back

He laughed and said no

Then he bought you a giant cotton candy

"Tom, seriously I can pay for my own stuff."

"I know but I like spoiling you."

You finished the cotton candy together while strolling down the beach

Then once it was done he threw out the cone and took your hand

The sun was just setting so it was like a picture-perfect moment

So he took advantage of that and kissed you

(so cliche)

You tasted like strawberry from your chapstick

The cotton candy you just had

You tasted like sweetness

And comfort

And home

You started dating officially not long after that

And that's when it all really started

You knew he was good with kids

That first day at the hospital told you as much

But you didn't expect him to be this good

Olivia was very much in love with him

They were practically glued at the hip

She constantly wanted hugs from him

He took her to the park and threw her up in the air while she squealed in delight

He picked her up and carried her while you were making dinner so she didn't feel left out

She sat on his back while he did push-ups

He'd kiss her nose every time he did a sit-up

They would have kissing contests

He kissed her cheek

She kissed his back 

Then he kissed hers again

And so on

Her first word was Tommy

You'd never seen him so happy

You, on the other hand, were not

"I raised you on my own ever since you were three months old and this is the thanks I get?"

They'd often fall asleep together on the couch

Your camera roll was full of photos of them sleeping

Her favorite thing to do was grab him by the sides of his head and kiss his curls

(a d o r a b l e)

He helped you plan the perfect birthday party for her

"Only the best for my best girl"

"I thought I was your best girl"

"Only the best for either of my best girls but in this case the youngest one"

She loved it

You're pretty sure he loved it more

But who can say for sure?

On your six month anniversary, he told you he loved you and that he had no plans on ever leaving you two.

He forced you to quit your job at the diner

"You're overworking yourself. I have more than enough money to take care of all of us and that way you'll be able to focus on your studies and travel with me since you do online college. Everybody wins."

So you went wherever he went

Including filming for Infinity War/Endgame

He took you to set one day

Everybody loved you

But as always, Olivia stole the show

They passed her around like a little doll

She loved the attention

It was quite funny seeing such a tiny baby being held by the mountain of a man that is Chris Hemsworth

She only referred to Chris Evans as 'Cap'

And Robert would forever be 'Tony'

But they didn't mind one single bit

"She just looks so cute when she says it, I can't be mad at her."

You met his family when the filming ended and he went back to London

Dom was ecstatic to finally have a little girl to take care of

"At least she laughs at my jokes, not like those idiots"

"You can leave her with us whenever you want"

Nikki was very happy to have one more girl in her corner

"I swear, if I hear one more second of golf talk, I'll go nuts"

Harry loved taking pictures of Liv

"She's just so photogenic, it's so easy"

You learned a lot of recipes from Sam

"Finally someone that won't wreck my kitchen and taint my food's good name"

Paddy liked playing with Liv and Tessa in the backyard

"It's nice to take care of someone for a change, I'm always the one being babied"

You made your relationship public while you were in London, a year and a half after you started dating

The public loved you

Because he just couldn't help but brag

And Tom with kids is the content the fans live for

tomhotland: omgggg they're so cuteee

spideysbae: the heart eyes thoooo

peterpprotectionsquad: i hereby declare that Olivia is the cutest baby to have ever existed and she must be protected at all costs

He took you to the Far From Home premiere

Your dress matched his suit

The fans went crazy

Olivia was living her best life in her little red and black dress

She'd gotten used to the flashes after Harry's numerous photoshoots

So she was just smiling and clapping a lot

The paparazzi loved her

The interviewers kept asking about you two

"(Y/N)'s the love of my life and Olivia's the sweetest baby I've ever known, I couldn't love her more if she was my own"

"So, do I hear wedding bells ringing?"

"Well, you never know"

That caught your attention for a second but you let it go in favor of posing with Liv after the paps all but begged you to

"Livvy say bye-bye"

She sent a kiss a said bye-bye in all her baby glory

They awed so much

His Instagram was filled with pictures of the three of you

Zendaya took a bunch of selfies with her as well

"Our dresses match, I have no choice"

She kept pretty quiet during the movie

But hugged Tom especially hard when she saw him cry on the big screen

The next morning, you were all over the headlines

"The sweetest little family in Hollywood"

On your third anniversary, he took you on a week-long trip to Bora Bora

Liv stayed with his parents

He took you on a walk to the beach

(déjà vu much?)

And proposed

Clumsily, but he proposed

How can a proposal be clumsy, you ask?

Well, he kneeled on a rock at first

"Ow! Fuck my knee, hold on a second"

Then he kept stuttering because he was so nervous

And in the end (after you said yes and he checked about five times cause "Wait seriously?") he started freaking out cause the ring didn't fit

But she wears the ring I used as a reference all the time!

"Um, Tom?"

"Yeah, babe?"

"The ring's supposed to go on my other hand..."

Ah, that explains it

The wedding was simple but beautiful

Livvy was the flower girl cause she wanted to throw petals in the air

Tessa brought the rings

His heart almost stopped when he saw you walk down the aisle

He was convinced you'd never looked more beautiful than that day at the premiere when your clothes matched 

But right now, looking at your smile and how gorgeous you looked in that dress, he realized he was wrong

He sniffled, trying to hold his tears, but Haz just handed him a tissue

"I came prepared"

You two adopted Liv

She was your daughter anyway, you just made it official

She started calling you 'mommy' and 'daddy'

"She called me 'daddy'."

Oh, the tears

To Tom's great delight, she started picking up a British accent, as she grew

It didn't help that she stayed at Nikki and Dom's all the time when you started teaching at a university in London

So they dialed they're British-ness up to eleven so she'd pick up on the accent

"Mummy, what's for pudding?"

Good Lord

After two years of trying, you found out Tom was unable to have kids

He cried a lot, and felt like he failed

You shut him up with a kiss and immediately mentioned adoption

"There are hundreds of children begging for a home and parents to love them."

You adopted an eight-year-old boy named Lucas and his five-year-old sister Cleo

Olivia loved having another girl her age

They had tea parties

And played dress-up

And forced Lucas to play the prince

You taught them to bake so they could have cookies for their tea party

And Tom found himself often ambushed in one of their games

"No, daddy, you gotta pretend that the big bad dragon took you so we can save you."

They rolled around on the floor and made 'pew pew' noises to imitate guns

Lucas was always quieter

He was your little angel

You two were very close

He shared your love for writing and literature

As well as cooking, to Uncle Sam's greatest delight

You often sat down on the couch, the five of you (and Tessa, obviously) and someone read a book out loud, while the others just laid back and listened

Cleo became very interested in Uncle Harry's camera and took a bunch of photos of her sister and her dad with the polaroid camera she got for her seventh birthday

Olivia still loved the attention and remained the bright and photogenic child she'd always been

She became a model, to no one's surprise

Cleo became a freelance photographer, which allowed her to fulfill her dream of traveling the world while taking pictures and earning good money

Lucas became one of Hollywood's best and brightest screenwriters

But everyone still made time for each other

Attending every single one of Liv's fashion shows

Every time Cleo showcased her pictures in a gallery, they were the first ones there

All of Lucas' films

Going to all of Tom's premieres and wearing matching clothes, per Liv and Cleo's request

"It's for the aesthetic"

Everyone was happy

And life was good

i’m pretty happy now, ngl

i need a Tom in my life

[jaskierswolf]

You Set My Heart Ablaze (24/25)

Previous

Warnings: Jaskier has a small panic attack in this chapter, but Geralt helps him through it. The whole thing is barely a paragraph.

_______

Saturday.

Finally!

The first day of the summer holidays! Jaskier had barely been able to resist throwing his arms around Geralt the day before when the fireman had come to collect Ciri after school but they’d both agreed that they should at least try to wait until the weekend. So he’d forcibly stuffed his hands in his pockets and shuffled on his feet. He couldn’t help the dazzling smile he flashed at Geralt but at least he managed to keep his hands to himself.

But that was now a thing of the past.

He sat up in bed with more energy than he’d had in the mornings in years. He pushed his glasses up his nose and ran a hand through his hair as he searched for his phone within the pile of sheets. He found the bastard under one of his pillows and immediately rang Geralt without looking at the time.

It rang a few times before Geralt picked up.

“The fuck?” Geralt grumbled into the phone.

Jaskier frowned and pulled the phone away from his ear so he could look at the time. “Oh shit!” He cackled and then put the phone on speaker. “Sorry, darling. I’m still on school time.”

“Jaskier, you’re never on school time, even during term time,” Geralt muttered.

“Oh shush. I just wanted to say that I love you!” He trilled happily.

Geralt grunted.

“Oh ho ho! Aren’t you a grumpy arse this morning?” Jaskier giggled and rolled onto his back, planting his legs up against the wall.

“Fuck off.”

“No! Because it is the school holidays and I, Jaskier Pankratz, love you, Geralt Rivia.” He sighed wistfully.

“Hmm.”

“Geralt!” He whined.

He knew the fireman was tired but he could at least say it back once. The fucker.

“Love you too, now can I get back to sleep?”

Jaskier rolled his eyes. “Yes, dear heart, but call me when you’re awake, alright?”

“Fine.”

The line went dead.

The bastard.

He considered going back to sleep himself but he had too much energy. He jumped out of bed, tripping over his shoes that were on the floor right by his bed, and went flailing across the room.

“Oh cock!” He cursed as he landed, rather painfully, against the door. He would probably have a lovely bruise on the hip that crashed against the wall, but it was better than landing on his wrists and breaking them.

He sort of needed those to play his instruments.

He supposed he could always just sing.

Nah. That was shit.

Plus Priscilla would kill him if he couldn’t finish up the new album. He still had at least one lute track to put down, and even though she could play the lute, he was more skilled and she preferred to focus on the singing. She’d complained enough about his insistence on using the lute over the guitar on this album but he’d refused to back down. He had a vision!

So fuck the guitar.

He sighed and straightened his glasses, frowning as he noticed the smudges on the lenses. How the fuck were they already dirty? He’d only cleaned them last night before bed.

Fuck it.

Pancakes!

Ooh he could make the chocolate chip kind and send photos to Geralt. They had an unspoken rule that one did not make chocolate chip pancakes without photographic evidence unless they were both there to enjoy it. He frowned as he reached the edge of his living/kitchen area, and stuck his tongue between his lips. Maybe he should wait until he could make pancakes with Geralt and Ciri? He didn’t want to make them too often. They wouldn’t be special if he made them too often.

He scoffed. “Yeah, well. I’m hungry.” He muttered. He gazed longingly at the flour and sugar on the top shelf of his cupboards and then grabbed a box of chocolate cereal instead.

Yes he still ate chocolate cereal. The boring old flakey stuff was shit and he actually had taste buds. He preferred his food to not taste like cardboard.

Gods, how was he an adult?

He sighed and scrolled through the social media on his phone. Triss had put up a few pictures from the pub the night before. He’d reluctantly declined the invitation as the wolves were going along, even though Geralt had stayed behind to look after Ciri. There were quite a few of Triss and Eskel pulling funny faces at the camera, and one adorable photo of Triss kissing his cheek. Eskel looked incredibly happy. They were cute together. Jaskier hit the heart button and typed out a string of heart-eyes emojis in the comments.

Even Yennefer had put up a rare personal post. She normally kept her social media for her art stuff  but there was a stunning photograph of her outside the pub. She was wearing a long white chiffon  dress matched with a leather jacket and heavy leather boots, not exactly summery but it was Yennefer. She was gazing off to the side, her face lit by dull glow of the street lamps, one fiery violet eye almost glowing in the darkness.

Jaskier pouted. How was she so fucking photogenic all the time? Seriously how was Geralt now dating him after that?

“Urgh,” he groaned and hit the heart button.

JaskierTheBard: Stop making us all look bad, Yennefer! Stunning photograph darling x

He reread the reply twice and hit send. It was kinder than he usual response to Yennefer but honestly he had to admit she was a little bit sexy in that one, which just wasn’t fair.

Renfri had posted a group photo of the whole gang and he whined. It looked like a fun night. Stupid Philippa and her rules. It wasn’t fair that he had to miss out, but thankfully those days were officially over!

He lost track of time as he scrolled on his phone. He swore as he suddenly remembered his cereal. He groaned as he peered into his bowl. The milk was chocolatey and the cereal had all but disintegrated. He fucking hated soggy cereal.

“Cock,” he muttered and threw the whole lot in the bin.

He was about to put some toast on when his door bell rang. He yelped and jumped at the sound. He looked down at himself. He was still just wearing his boxers. Fuck. He ran to his bedroom and grabbed his dressing gown. It was too hot really to wear it in the summer but he wouldn’t have time to get dressed.

As it turned out, he needn’t have bothered. Geralt was at the door holding a bunch of roses with a sheepish smile on his face.

Jaskier grinned. “Geralt!” He flung his arms around his boyfriends neck and then swore as he realised he was probably crushing the flowers. “Umm, let me just go get some water. Wait. These are for me? They are beautiful. Geralt!” He whined and covered his face in his hands.

Geralt, the fucker, just laughed at him. “They’re for you. I thought… well, Ciri said I couldn’t go on a date without flowers. She was really stubborn about it.”

Jaskier snorted and carefully took the flowers from Geralt. They weren’t too badly crushed, thank Melitele for that. “I wonder where she gets that from,” he teased.

Geralt rolled his eyes. “Calanthe, her grandmother. Even Pavetta had a stubborn streak. Trust me, this one has nothing to do with me.”

Jaskier’s eyes went wide. “Oh shit! I’m sorry. I forgot. I didn’t mean… hmmph!”

Geralt had kissed him.

Not that he was complaining. He smiled into the kissed and then pulled back to gaze into Geralt’s beautiful amber eyes.

“You don’t get to do that every time you want me to shut up, dearest,” he chided gently.

Geralt smirked and just kissed him again.

Ok so perhaps he could.

Gods he was so smitten.

“I love you,” he breathed against Geralt’s lips when they finally pulled apart.

Geralt brushed his nose against Jaskier’s. “I love you too, even if you do have morning breath.”

Jaskier gasped and shoved against Geralt’s chest. “Rude!” He pouted.

“You love me,” Geralt reminded him. “How are you not dressed yet? You’ve been awake for hours.”

Jaskier shrugged. “Internet.”

“Come on, get dressed. I want to take you out.” Geralt instructed with a tilt of his head.

Jaskier laughed. “Take me out how? Kill me or date me? Honestly I’m down for both.”

“Jaskier!” Geralt growled and rolled his eyes.

“Kill me, right. Got it,” he winked at his boyfriend. “Now are you absolutely sure you want me to get dressed? Because I have the perfect outfit to wear but once I’m in those jeans I am not taking them off again,” he stroked Geralt’s cheek with one finger and then bopped him on the nose.

“Hmm. Brush your teeth and I’ll get water for the flowers.” Geralt took the roses back off him. “Do you have a vase?”

Jaskier scoffed. “Of course I have a vase. I’m gay!”

“That’s not an excuse for everything, Jaskier, and I’m pretty sure you’re bi,” Geralt rolled his eyes.

Jaskier laughed. “That’s just homophobic.”

“That’s not—” Geralt cut himself off and pinched his nose. “Bathroom. Now. I’ll find the vase.”

Jaskier giggled happily and went to brush his teeth.

Oh sweetest Melitele! He loved the summer holidays!

__________________

After a few false starts they finally made it out of Jaskier’s flat. He was slightly regretting his choice in black skinny jeans but really they made his legs and arse look great. It was was his first proper date with Geralt and he wanted to look good. They both managed a quick shower and Jaskier braided Geralt’s hair to elevate his usual half up do. Geralt even let Jaskier slip a couple of buttercup clips into the braids.

Geralt was wearing the outfit he’d turned up it which Jaskier hadn’t managed to appreciate before but he could now as he gazed happily at his partner across the table. Geralt had also gone for black skinny jeans, thank you Freya, and a slick black short-sleeved shirt. Honestly Jaskier didn’t know how the man wasn’t boiling in the heat of the summer in all that black but he wasn’t going to complain. It was the first time he’d seen Geralt in a shirt and he was loving it.

In comparison Jaskier had decided on a bright turquoise shirt. He’d left the bottom few buttons undone and tied the ends in a knot to turn the shirt into a crop top. The intensity of Geralt’s gaze on him when he’d finally been allowed to see the whole look had almost cause yet another delay to their date but Jaskier had just winked and pulled his slightly dazed partner out of the flat, switching his glasses for his prescription sunglasses.

He had been far too hungry to delay any further and he wanted to go on a cute date with his boyfriend!

Geralt suggested an adorable little sandwich parlour. It didn’t look like much from the outside but inside it was cosy and quiet, a perfect lunchtime date spot.

Or it would have if they hadn’t been interrupt by Lambert and Renfri… again.

Seriously, every time they ended up in a coffee shop those two were there. They both had wet hair and flushed red faces. Jaskier assumed the pair of them had been at the gym. Geralt had mentioned they liked to spar together on the wolf pack’s days off, that and the work out clothes sort of gave them away.

“Well, well, well,” Lambert laughed as they approached and crossed his arms. “So much for Triss and Eskel’s theory of you moving on, Dandelion.”

Jaskier gaped at the redhead. “Wait what? Have you been talking about us?!” He pointed a finger at the pair of them.

Renfri rolled her eyes. “Do you honestly think they have anything better to do? I’ve had to keep my mouth shut for months whilst these idiots try and think of a plan to set you two up. Triss was heartbroken when you told her you’d moved on. She was really rooting for you guys.”

“Wait, you knew?” Lambert growled at Renfri, she just shoved him in the face.

“Of course I knew. It was fucking obviously. You just had to look at Geralt’s face whenever Jaskier was mentioned. He lit up like a petrol can.”

“Renfri,” Geralt sighed. “I wasn’t that bad.”

Renfri snorted and Jaskier cackled. Oh ho! He was going to have so much fun with this. He held Geralt’s hand over the top of the table and smiled at his lover. “Oh darling, I didn’t know you cared so much,” he simpered with a flutter of his eyelashes.

“I’m pretty sure I showed you how much I care this morning, more than once.”

Jaskier blushed and pulled his hand away. “Touché, dear heart, touché,” he licked his lips as he remembered the morning’s activities. “Please, feel free to remind me any time.”

“Nope!” Lambert yelled and covered his ears. “No. You are not going to be that couple. Urgh.”

“Months I’ve had to put up with this!” Renfri complained. “Come on, wolf. Let’s leave the love birds in peace. They’ll put me off my lunch otherwise.”

“So gross,” Lambert agreed.

Jaskier laughed as the pair of them scarpered from the shop, and he rested his head on his chin as he ate his chips. They were like the kind you get in fish and chip shops and covered in blessed salty goodness. Geralt, the monster that he was, covered his with vinegar so Jaskier wouldn’t steal his chips as well.

“So what’s their deal?” Jaskier asked though mouthfuls of delicious fried potato.

Geralt tilted his head, he also now had a mouthful of cheesesteak sandwich.

“They said they weren’t dating?” Jaskier tried to explain.

Geralt huffed and Jaskier waited for him to finish eating. “Renfri doesn’t date. She has no interest in it.”

Jaskier nodded. “Asexual?”

Geralt shook his head. “Don’t think so. Just the dating thing,” he scowled as he tried to formulate his thoughts. “I think she called it aromantic, but even then her and Lambert are practically siblings. They’d probably both stab you for suggesting anything else.”

“Right. Noted. Rather not be stabbed. I made it all the way through the school year. It would be a fucking shame if I got stabbed now,” he flicked his fringe from his eyes. “Especially when you look so bloody sexy in that shirt.”

Geralt scoffed. “Says the man wearing a crop top.”

Jaskier grinned and leant forward so his lips were almost touching Geralt’s. “It would look better on your bedroom floor, darling.”

Geralt’s eyes went dark and Jaskier kissed the tip of his nose. “But not yet. I’m starving and these chips are brilliant! I cannot believe you would ruin them with vinegar.”

Geralt groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re a fucking tease, Jaskier.”

Jaskier just laughed and brushed his foot up against Geralt’s leg under the table. “You love it,” he agreed with a wink.

“Hmm.”

“You doooo,” Jaskier insisted. “And you love me!”

“I admit nothing.”

“I’ll make it up to you later?” He flashed his most flirtatious grin at Geralt, rubbing his foot further up Geralt’s leg.

“Jask,” Geralt half moaned and Jaskier laughed at the pretty blush on Geralt’s cheek.

“Yes, dearest Geralt?” He sang, feigning innocence.

“I hate you.” His boyfriend groaned and hid his face behind his hands.

“I know, love. I know.”

____________________

Jaskier was busy pulling on one of Geralt’s hoodies that he’d pinched earlier on in their relationship, when Geralt sighed loudly. Jaskier bounced back over to the bed and straddled his boyfriend’s hips.

“What’s up, dear heart?” He said with a tilt of his head.

Geralt’s long hair was now loose. Jaskier had taken great delight in undoing his own work and letting the silver strands fall loosely by Geralt’s face. His hair was naturally wavy after a shower anyway but it had been accentuated where the braids had been, and by the gods, Geralt had looked so beautiful. He still did. Only now he had his grumpy face back on. Jaskier gently stroked his thumb along Geralt’s cheek, brushing a loose strand away from his eyes.

“We need to tell Ciri,” Geralt groaned.

“Already? I thought we were going to tell her we’re friends first.”

“Won’t work.”

Jaskier raised an eyebrow and huffed. “And why not?”

“She’s too clever, and I love you,” Geralt grumbled.

Jaskier felt his smile soften at Geralt’s words and he shifted so he could lie back down on Geralt’s chest, nuzzling into the crook of Geralt’s neck. “And I love you, my dearest of hearts.”

“Hmm.” He felt Geralt kiss the top of his hair and he sighed happily.

“So we tell her when?”

“Come home with me?” Geralt suggested. “She knows I was on a date.”

“It has been a long date,” Jaskier hummed thoughtfully, and it really had. Geralt had arrived mid-morning at it was now late afternoon bordering on early evening. “Won’t she be worried about you?”

Geralt chuckled and Jaskier felt his heart race faster in his chest. Geralt’s laugh was so warm, rough and woefully underused. It always made Jaskier’s day when he could make Geralt laugh so freely. “Yennefer took her to the zoo. She thought we might need the extra time.”

Jaskier giggled. “I cannot imagine Yennefer Vengerberg at the zoo!” He laughed harder as he pressed his face against Geralt’s bare shoulder.

“Why?”

“Oh I don’t know,” he grinned, placing a kiss on Geralt’s shoulder. “She seems too classy for the zoo.”

Geralt threaded his fingers through Jaskier’s hair and he hummed in contentment. He’d always enjoyed it when his partners played with his hair. The gentle tug at his scalp just turned him to goo. If he was a cat he was sure he’d be purring. As it was he couldn’t stop the happy hum in his chest.

“No one is too classy for the zoo,” Geralt said with such sincerity that Jaskier let out a peal of laughter and rolled onto the mattress next to Geralt. He felt Geralt roll onto his side and their eyes met. Geralt was smirking at him with mirth in his eyes.

Jaskier was overwhelmed with the love that was in his heart. In reality his time with Geralt really hadn’t been that long at all but it had just been blissful. Their forbidden romance seemed to have extended their honeymoon period and he still felt as gooey over his boyfriend as he had the first time he’d seen Geralt enter his classroom ten months prior.

“Quite right, dear. I love the zoo,” he sighed longingly. It had been ages since he had been.

“Next time we’ll go.” Geralt suggested. “I like the animals.”

“Deal. Ooh does this mean I finally get to meet Roach?!” He cried in excitement, a smile lighting up his face.

Geralt nodded. “She doesn’t like new people though. Don’t get your hopes up.”

Jaskier reached over to kiss Geralt and then rest his forehead against Geralt’s. “Of course not, darling.”

“Good…” Geralt paused. “Darling.”

Jaskier’s heart clenched in his chest and he buried his face in one of the pillows of the bed, making sadly incoherent noises that he wasn’t proud of. “Geralt!!” He whined pitifully. “You can’t just say things like that!”

Geralt scoffed. “You do all the time.”

Jaskier glared at him with a pout. He could feel the heat of the blush on his cheek. “Yeah, well…”

“Don’t worry.” Geralt smirked, kissing Jaskier’s temple. “I don’t think pet names are my thing.”

Jaskier pouted. “Hmmph.”

Reluctantly he rolled off the bed and pulled Geralt to his feet. With one last kiss he let Geralt get dressed. His boyfriend really did need to get back to Ciri and apparently Jaskier was going to be re-introduced to the young girl as her father’s new boyfriend; only a day after the term had finished.

Jaskier wasn’t nervous. Why would he be? Ciri loved him… as her teacher. Oh gods, he was going to fuck this up so badly. His heart was racing, and not in the good I’m in love way. Oh no. No, no, no, no.

He gasped a breath and leant against the wall. Geralt’s arms wrapped around his waist in an instance. “Breathe, Jaskier.”

Jaskier breathed, trying to match his breath with Geralt’s. “Sorry,” he mumbled when the worst of it was over.

“What happened?”

“What if she doesn’t like me?” He asked, his voice sounding pathetic even to his ears.

“She adores you, Jaskier.” Geralt nuzzled his neck gently. “She was disappointed when I said it wasn’t you.”

Jaskier groaned. “She’ll hate that you lied to her.”

“She’ll come round.” Geralt insisted.

“How are you so calm?” He snapped.

Geralt sighed. “Because she’s my daughter and she loves me, and she adores you.”

Jaskier nodded. “Ok. Ok. Yes. Let’s do this, before I run away and decide to live in a cave with just my lute for company.”

Geralt scoffed. “Always so dramatic.”

Jaskier managed a smile at that, even after his little wobble of anxiety. “You wouldn’t have me any other way.”

__________________

They were standing, hand in hand, outside Geralt’s house. Geralt and Ciri’s house. Jaskier hadn’t been here since the beginning of May when Ciri had been away with Yennefer. Ciri wasn’t away this time and they were about to reveal everything to her. He curled his toes in his shoes and hummed nervously under his breath. Geralt’s house suddenly seemed a lot larger than it had before.

Geralt squeezed his hand. “It’ll be fine, Jask.”

He nodded and took a deep breath. “I know. I know. I trust you.”

“Come on then. You’ll stay for dinner?”

Jaskier nodded again. “But I should probably go home after dinner. I imagine we’ll both need our own space by then.”

Geralt chuckled quietly. “Yeah. Ready?”

“Yes?” Jaskier’s voice squeaked a little, much to his embarrassment.

“Good.” Geralt moved to unlock the front door but it opened before he could get the key in the lock.

Yennefer stood on the other side with her hands on her hips. She was smirking at them both, looking far too evilly delighted for Jaskier’s liking.

“MR JASKIER!!” Ciri shrieked and there was a blur of blonde hair before Jaskier was knocked flying by the young girl.

He laughed nervously and hugged her back. “Hello, Ciri.”

“I knew it was you!!” She screamed happily. “Dad said it wasn’t but I knew it was you!”

“You don’t mind?” Jaskier asked, tentatively patting his former student on the back as she clung onto him.

Ciri pulled back and looked up at him. Her nose was scrunched up and she pouted. “Why would I mind?”

“Well, because I was your teacher and now I’m dating your father?” Jaskier stammered. He glanced at Geralt who just raised a knowing eyebrow at him. The bastard had known this would happen.

Ciri rolled her eyes and scoffed. “So? Everyone will be jealous. You’re the best teacher at school!”  She announced as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

He laughed at the ridiculousness of it all. “Maybe you shouldn’t boast too much about it Ciri. It’s not kind.”

Ciri just stuck her tongue out at him. He stuck his tongue out right back at her and she giggled.

“Jaskier’s right, princess. It would be best if you don’t tell everyone just yet,” Geralt said as he scooped her up into a hug.

“But it’s Mistle’s birthday party next week!” She pouted.

“Ciri,” Yennefer sighed, brushing the young girl’s hair out of her eyes. “Can we trust you to keep this a secret for now?”

Ciri scrunched her nose but nodded. “Ok, but only if we can go back to see the lions at the zoo! They were my favourite.”

Jaskier met Geralt’s eyes and smiled. “Well, buttercup, funny you should say that….”

____________

Next

[ohayohimawari]

Kakashi Asks-Answer

Q: (From @thetoxicstrawberry) What are your thoughts on Sukea? Do you think this disguise existed prior to him messing with Team 7?

A: I know that you and I have congratulated each other on having the same brain before Berry, and this is another of those priceless occasions, haha! I’ve been hoping that someone would ask me about Sukea so that I could have an excuse opportunity to geek all over my favorite ninja dork’s alter ego. Thank you for reading my thoughts (your thoughts? Our thoughts?)!

*Cracks knuckles* My study of the development of Kakashi’s photogenic photographer not-so-secret identity starts below the cut.

It’s a beautiful coincidence that I answer this question so close to my first anniversary as an outed writer in the Naruto fanfiction community. I wrote my headcanon of the origin of Sukea in my very first (and very naughty) fic! Seriously, I can forgive Kishi for almost everything simply because he removed the mask from my favorite character and put a camera in his hands (for those that don’t know, I’m a photographer).

In my story Supplemental Training, I portray Kakashi just as I imagine him when he’s nearing the end of his ANBU career. While he claims to be a man of many hobbies, he is first and foremost a ninja. He goes to sleep and wakes up a shinobi. His ability to form plans and strategies makes him both a powerful ally and a formidable enemy, but beyond the scope of missions, I don’t believe him to be an especially imaginative person. At the very least, I mean to say that he doesn’t put much stock in his own latent creative ability, and that prevents him from attempting such. Further, at that stage in his life and career, Kakashi is wound tighter than a two-dollar watch.

In my fic, he is reluctantly thrust into a situation that he is suspicious of, and is determined to control. He plays along with another character when she asks what he would like to call her, and Kakashi dubs her with a name that is obvious and unimaginative. She, in turn, christens him with a name that is equally obvious and unimaginative: Sukea.

(Side note: sukea is the Japanese pronunciation of the English word scare. Kakashi means scarecrow in Japanese, so, his alter ego’s name is a play on his own.)

In the story, Kakashi accepts the offered moniker, and it’s not long before he realizes that he stands to gain new skills if he manages to successfully navigate his situation. I’d written that my quick-thinking bean likens this experience to being an actor that is assuming a role. In scrambling for a costume, he tugs his mask down; effectively removing the face that most have come to recognize as his. Then, he’s nervous af.

This leads to the pivotal moment of my story, and in the creation of Sukea. Konoha’s prodigy, for all of his brilliance, doesn’t shine in the social interactions arena. Kakashi, bless his heart, wants so badly to be in control of the situation. However, it’s only when he lets himself go in favor of becoming Sukea, that he finally does gain control of it.

Near the end of my story, I write that Kakashi considers, “… what he had gained, who he had escaped, what he had beaten back, and who he became.” It’s from this moment on that I believe Sukea is an important part of this character’s life.

This transition doesn’t have to play out the way I’d written it in that fic, but I think Kakashi would have to be pushed into stepping outside of himself. We don’t see him assuming different identities in his career. He’s not a role-playing kind of dude in his downtime. He lives in a mask and wears an additional one when he clocks in for his shifts. He insulates himself during missions and isolates himself between them. I sometimes wonder if, by this stage in his life, he’d hidden his identity so well that Kakashi had lost sight of himself.

So, the experience of being Sukea-however it comes about and for whatever reason-would be something between refreshing and liberating for the Copy Nin.

Now I’m going to pull a Kishi tactic and employ a time jump with minimal backstory. A couple of years go by in which bad things happen to the Uchiha clan, Konoha adopts yet another orphan, and Kakashi is released from ANBU.

I imagine that this is one of the most difficult stages of Kakashi’s life. Nothing could be more unsettling for this dork than idleness after the familiar, strict, comfortable routine of the decade he spent in ANBU. I honestly think Kakashi wouldn’t know what to do with himself in the years between Black Ops and Team Seven. As a result, he begins to have a greater appreciation of Gai and his challenges. Also, this is when Kakashi would flesh out his secret identity as Sukea.

Because escapism.

Kakashi can’t stand himself in the years between Team Minato and Team Seven, and after he’s out of ANBU, he’s got too much time on his hands to ruminate on it.

There’s no way in hell that he would just wake up one day and decide to skip along the streets of Konoha without his mask on though. Kakashi would approach this consciously and meticulously. It helps to occupy the extra time. It postpones the moment between deciding to go out as Sukea and actually doing it. He would need time to prepare for this, mentally and physically.

There’s more to my headcanon than loathing himself though. The Third Hokage decided that this traumatized soldier was grade A teacher material, and Kakashi takes his orders seriously. While I don’t think he would view his eccentric nature as odd, I think he would be aware that he is socially awkward (at least, he would be aware that he feels awkward in social situations). I think he would strive to improve at this, if only for the sake of being a sensei.

This is why Sukea is a photographer.

Being a photographer is similar to being a fly on the wall. In order to capture candid moments or gather pictorial evidence, a photographer needs to melt into the background. Kakashi, being a ninja, would know how to succeed at that. He’d come to terms with the fact that the mask that hides his face makes him stand out. He’d know to cover his luscious, outrageous silver cowlicks, his famous scar and borrowed eye.

I can almost hear a couple of you piping up in the back asking, “But Hima, he’s a ninja! He can just don a henge!” The answer to that is no, unfortunately. As long as that sharingan is in Kakashi’s eye socket, that shit never shuts off. Even though he’s wearing a contact lens, as long as both of his eyes are open, it’s a constant drain on this poor knucklehead’s chakra reserve. Also? I think he doesn’t want to.

Choosing photography as Sukea’s schtick was brilliant. Photographers are expected to focus on their subjects, affording Kakashi plenty of time and opportunity to study others. He would definitely learn a great deal about people this way. Relationships and their dynamics are captured by his lens. He gains some new social skills by watching and catches up on the lives of the folks of the Hidden Leaf at the same time. One of his many hobbies is born. The best photographers are careful in their observations, quick in their actions, and Kakashi is already carrying those tools around in his fanny pack.

Unrelated, but, only Kakashi could make a fanny pack look asjkfsd hot. Another trivial detail, but you know how I love those: I’m thinking of one of Berry’s delightful headcanons about his mask and drawing from it now in my imagination. I wonder if Sukea carries Kakashi’s mask in his coat pocket the first few times he goes out in public.

Whether he does or not, after a few field trips around Konoha, I think Kakashi would genuinely enjoy stepping out as Sukea. He would have to if he’s still doing it during his sensei days, and again in the next-gen era.

He delights in trolling Team Seven, that’s for sure. Sukea is his own private joke, and who among us tires of laughing at our own jokes? Kakashi’s no different, and that’s why we catch him smirking at his reflection when we finally got to see the goods in that special manga chapter and anime episode. It felt so good to have my anime crush validated, btw.

Every time Kakashi drifts undetected around the Leaf Village, there is one other jōnin that Sukea’s camera avoids. As much as he enjoys his joke, he wouldn’t push his luck when it comes to the possibility of Maito Gai recognizing him. I think it speaks volumes about their friendship when we see Sukea sweating it out as Gai’s eyebrows invade his personal space and he stares the other man down. I’m convinced that this is how Kakashi learns his eternal rival is hopelessly face blind, but that’s a headcanon for another day.

Sukea is still stalking the inhabitants of the Hidden Leaf when Boruto’s generation of ninja are preparing to graduate. However, we see Kakashi tugging his mask back up and pulling the wig off, transitioning in front of Iruka. In so doing, he proves how much he’s grown throughout his life. I imagine that being Sukea had a lot to do with that.

This alter ego of Kakashi’s-like so much about him-is enigmatic. It seems to me that he’s revealing himself rather than hiding himself; giving others a chance to get to know him underneath the underneath. The person aside from the elite ninja that he is.

I said earlier that I wondered if Kakashi had hidden his identity so well, that he had lost sight of himself. I like to think that in being Sukea, Kakashi reconnected with himself.

XOXO

[unavenged-robin]

Juxtaposition - 3

Part 1 + Part 2

Tim hadn’t meant anything by it, honestly. He just happened to stumble into the kid while having a camera in his hands, and that was all. It hadn’t been his fault if Damian was too busy drawing and didn't notice him: the brat was supposed to be a baby ninja, after all. Another thing he was not responsible for was Damian being... photogenic. He would never use the word cute, not even to save his own life.

Point is, the kid was sitting there, under a tree, surrounded by his pets - Titus' big head on his leg, Alfred the cat curled up by his feet - his head bent over an old sketchbook, and a look of total focus on his face, and Tim didn’t even think about it, he raised the camera to his eye and took the photo.

Click.

Damian lifted his head, looking annoyed but not surprised. So maybe he had known about Tim being there. Maybe he just hadn’t care enough.

“Taking photos of people without their explicit consent is a felony, Drake”, he said, narrowing his eyes at Tim. “I could report you and have you arrested.”

Tim snorted and plopped down on the grass in front of the kid.

It was such a beautiful day. The sun was warm over the skin and the wind was like a gentle caress on the face. Even the colors looked like they were happy to exist; they were so intense they seemed to vibrate under his stare: the blue was so blue the sky could’ve very well been the ocean, the green was so green the whole garden could’ve been just one, giant new leaf of a young tree.

And Damian, Damian was a spot of red and black in all that green, like a tiny ladybug resting in the grass, and his eyes were also the greenest green Tim had seen for a while. He had smiled at the kid with a contented heart.

“You happen to be a minor, brat”, he reminded him with a bit of teasing in his voice. “And I'm listed as one of your legal guardians. That means that, until you're eighteen, I can pretty much do whatever I want with you.”

Damian looked up from his sketchbook to squint at him. His cheeks were sun-kissed and his nose was getting too red under the warm light of the afternoon, and Tim remembers how in that moment he had the sudden, shattering realization that he felt a not insignificant amount of affection for his brother. And that had not been the only time he’s ever felt that way, but it had perhaps been the first one.

Damian had dismissed him without a second thought.

“You are not my legal guardian.”

“I am too.”

The words stayed there for a moment, lingering between them, then Damian had frowned at him, out of curiosity more than outrage, Tim thought, as he choose to believe him.

“Why?”, he asked.

Tim turned his eyes away, lifting his face to observe the branches of the tree above them swaying slowly in the wind. He didn’t want to ruin the quiet.

“Because this family is a mess and Bruce wants to be sure that, if he decides to go take another stroll in the past again, you won't be left on your own”, he explained anyway. It was both a surreal and a serious affair, and they both knew it.

Damian had considered it for a moment, gnawing pensively at the tip of his pencil.

“I won't be left with you anyway”, he decided with a shrug. “You would have to go through Grayson's body to get me.”

Tim remembers how he had laughed at that.

“Yeah, that's true”, he had said. “Neither of us need to worry about it.”

*

Tim stares at the ceiling of his own bedroom like he expects some kind of answer coming down from there, along with a few friendly spiders he’s never had the time to chase away.

That afternoon used to be a good memory, once upon a time. Now it comes at him at night, haunting him with its bitter taste of unforeseen omen, and Tim wonders if Damian ever thinks about it, if he remembers it as clearly as he does.

He hopes not. He hopes that, at least for the kid, it’s not ruined.

There’s still some good stuff attached to that memory, though. Damian had wanted that photo, marched down to this very apartment to get it. And Tim had developed the film just for him, showed him how to do it and pretended not to notice how invested Damian was. That had been nice too: teaching the kid something new, something harmless they both enjoyed. Damian had let Tim guide his hands through the various proceedings, he had even obeyed every instruction with a minimum amount of huffs and scoffs. That had been another good day.

Fast forward, Tim hadn’t been there for Damian’s eleventh birthday, but he had bought him a camera and asked Alfred to pack it up in the most childish, colourful wrapping paper he could find, and to give it to the brat when he looked less willingly to throw it away without even bothering to unwrap it. And of course he hadn’t expected much in return, but to his surprise Damian had actually texted him a short and very formal thank you. That meant the little gremlin had loved the gift. Tim had been happy about it.

Those memories still makes him smile, even if now they leave a bitter aftertaste on his lips. Nice moments like those had been a rare thing, little pearls lost in the sand of the constant fights, the misunderstandings, and the mutual disinterest.

And now the world was all chaos and fragile things, and none of them really know what to do. Not Damian, freshly deprived of the only two father figures he had ever known; not Tim, who had found himself responsible for him; and sure enough not Jason, who had just got himself trapped in the whole mess.

Tim sighs and gets out of bed. The clock radio on the nightstand marks four o'clock in the morning, but there's no way he’s going back to sleep tonight, he's sure of that. Better to make some tea and keep working on tomorrow’s case. At least that’s the plan when he gets into the kitchen.

He goes as far as to put some water on the heat, then the memories of that afternoon comes back to needle him. There must be a box somewhere, filled with the photos from the first film he had developed for Damian, the first photos the kid had ever took in his life, as far as Tim knows. And e hadn't told Damian this - of course he hadn’t - but he'd made copies for himself. At the time he hadn't even ask himself why: he had just wanted to do it, so he had gone and done it.

He finds the box tucked away on the highest shelf of his library, covered by a thin layer of dust. Housekeeping’s never been his strongest suit.

A faint gurgling from the kitchen reminds him of the tea he was making. Tim retrieves it, pushes some jasmine leaves into the hot cup, then goes and sits on the couch. He shoots a quick look at Damian's room, but the door is closed and no light seeps from under it, no noise comes from the other side. The boy should be asleep.

For some reason he can’t explain, Tim feels a pang of guilt as he opens the box.

Damian’s photos are all there and Tim picks them up with a smile. It's funny looking at his family through the kid's eyes: everyone looks a lot taller, everything seems bigger. It's a bit of a déjà-vu, because Tim remembers well enough how the world looks like on a child scale.

The first bunch of photos are reserved to Damian's pet, of course. Here’s Titus, sleeping on the library’s rug or sitting at Damian’s feet, and Alfred the cat curled up on the windowsill. There’s Batcow eating some grass in the back of their courtyard, Goliath with its wings spread out, getting ready to fly. Tim knows Damian misses them. He wish he could at least give them back to him but he has no space for pets in his apartment, and they can’t go home anyway.

He puts those photos aside, and the next one hits him like a fist in the stomach. Here, in front of him, there’s Dick. He's smiling down, his lips upturned, the affection so clear in his eyes. Tim tries to imagine whatever absurd excuse Damian had tried to made up to justify his wish to have a picture of him, and he can’t think of anything, but it’s pretty obvious that Dick had seen right through the kid.

Damian is the subject of the next photo. Even if it hadn't came up right after Dick's one, Tim would've known anyway that Dick was the one who took it. It's the expression on Damian's face to give it away, that little not-really-annoyed-but-pretending-to-be-anyway scowl that holds the same affection of Dick's smile. He can see that moment so clearly in his mind. How Dick would’ve said something like you can take a picture of me only if I can take a picture of you, and Damian would’ve rolled his eyes and then indulge the blackmail with a secret happiness.

He laughs heartily at the following four photos. They are a set of unfocused, very awkward selfies of Damian and Stephanie, with her being the head of the operation, since Damian's arms would be too short to even attempt it. Damian’s glaring in the first photo and openly laughing in the last one, and Stephanie had been quick, albeit a little imprecise, at capturing that moment. The result is a blurry picture with a very strange angle, but it’s still one of Tim’s favorite.

There are a lot of pictures of Bruce. At first they were taken from a distance, and they portray him from behind, or busy doing something else: bending over his desk to write a letter, sitting in the armchair reading a book, standing in the kitchen with Alfred sipping a tea. They all give the idea of stolen moments, even if Bruce had probably known what the kid was doing. Tim could see him playing along, waiting for Damian to decide what worked best for him.

And of course Damian had eventually decided to make Bruce a part of the new hobby. The other shots still have a formal setting, very different from the spontaneity of the photos of Dick and Stephanie, but Bruce smiles in almost all of them and there’s a complicity and a quiet happiness that makes Tim’s heart ache. He misses Bruce. And he can only imagine how much Damian’s missing him too, how all this time apart is affecting him, his memories, his relationship with Bruce.

Tim brushes a cold fingertip over the pictures and wishes he could fix, if not everything, at least some of it. They can’t have Dick back, but Bruce is still there, still alive, and breathing, and living a life that doesn’t include them anymore, and if anything, it hurts almost as much as believing him to be dead.

He takes a quick look at all the photos again and he wonders how it is possible that none of them ever realized how important those moments were, how much they would have missed them once they were gone. For all the unspoken things and the cruel past, for all the miscommunications and the fights and the bickering, the truth of what there used to be between them as a family it’s just there in his hands: it was love, love and nothing else.

He hopes that Damian can see it too.

He flips through the pictures one last time, and this time he’s forced to notice how there are no photos of himself, or of Jason, for that matter. It shouldn't have been unexpected, but it stings anyway, even if only a little bit.

Tim’s considering what to do with the photos, if put them in their box and hide it again, or leave everything here on the coffee table for Damian to find, when he hears soft footsteps behind his back and the decision is taken out of his hands.

“Hey”, he says when the kid circumnavigates the couch to come standing in front of him.

“Want some tea?”, Tim offers, lifting his own cup.

Damian shakes his head no and curls up next to Tim, tucking his bare feet under him. He looks still half asleep, which is kind of a blessing right now. Tim has a good feeling about how Damian will take the news of the existence of those illegitimate copies of his pictures, but you never know.

“Mine are still in my room back at home, I believe”, Damian whispers, as he reaches out for the box. Tim lets him have it, and watches him closely as the boy collects all the pictures in his hands.

“Alfred would never let anyone touch your room while you’re away”, he reassures him, and since Damian’s just got to the picture of Dick, he slings an arm around the boy’s shoulders and pulls him closer.

“We’re going to need an album for them”, he says gently. “Like one of those Alfred has back home. We can make a new family album or something. Show it to him once everything goes back to normal, you know?”

Damian nods as he leans against Tim’s chest. He’s still warm from the bed, and his hair is a mess, but also soft under Tim’s chin. He’s wearing one of Jason’s old shirt because for the second week in a row Tim forgot to do the laundry, and he smells like Dick’s aftershave because that’s what Jason’s using now.

Tim holds Damian a bit closer. They are all trying to pick up the pieces as best as they can. It’s not easy.

“We could go to the park tomorrow”, he adds, because why not. “Bring Jason with us. Take some new photos for your album. What do you say?”

Damian moves closer to him, eyes still transfixed on Dick’s face.

“Yes”, he answers softly. “I would like that.”

[juicifeur]

Down By The River (Castiel x Reader)

Another submission for @riversong-sam‘s birthday challenge!

My prompt was Last Goodbye

Warnings: character death, depressed Cass

Word Count: 1.7k A/N: 

Sorry I suck at keeping active 

I’m using the spelling ‘CASS’. I’m warning you because people get triggered for some reason and then they get mad at me

Also, if your URL is crossed off in my tags, it means Tumblr is not allowing me to tag you under that URL anymore. Message me if you still want to be on tags but you want to change your URL

His hand lay under your head, supporting it so it wouldn’t touch the sullied ground. The unclean ground where your body lay nearly motionless. He cradled your torso in his lap and kept you close, warm, as comfortable as he could make you. His beige trenchcoat lay in half in the mud that was close to freezing over for the night in attempt to conserve some of your body heat

  “Guess we won’t be going on that second date huh?” You smiled weakly up at him, finding his other hand with your own, resting on your abdomen. He shook his head.

  “No, I’m afraid not.” He breathed out shakily and tried to smile back.

As per usual, a hunt had gone wrong, but this time it ended with your blood slowly leaking into the dirt. It was hard for Cass to grip what was happening; you’d known him so long, and just recently you were beginning to have feelings for the angel, as weird as that was.

  “Put your coat back on Cass.” You mumbled, trying to focus on his eyes, his lips, anything that could keep you in this world a little longer.

  “I do not get cold, Y/N. I’ll be fine.” His thumb brushed against your cheek gently.

The colour of your face was slowly draining, like your blood, and your lips were turning cold along with your fingers. Cass’ hand ran through your hair gently and you breathed out, calm.

  “Please just let me heal you.” He begged. Angels didn’t really cry, but if they did, you’d guess that Castiel was about as close as they could get. His hands were leaving yours warmer and his voice broke when he managed to speak. The blue in his eyes seemed vibrant when he was most upset. You shook your head slowly.  

  “You’ve saved me...too many times, Castiel.”

  “Then don’t leave me just yet, Y/N, please.” He pressed his cool lips to your forehead and you smiled softly. Both Sam and Dean returned, stopping in their tracks as they saw Castiel kneeling. They’d gone after the demon that had provided you with a nice lethal stab wound. Lucky enough for you, you were on the hellspawn’s list just because you affiliated with the Winchesters.

They decided not to get any closer. Castiel’s shoulders were shuddering above you and your breath was getting shallow.

  “I think it’s time for me to go.” All you could get out was a whisper.

  “I don’t want to watch the love between us die...” Cass muttered, a small teardrop fell from his eye and he breathed softly, the light fog swirling and then disappearing. You were silent. It was forbidden for humans and angels to be together, but Castiel’s current track record showed that he wasn’t exactly keen on following the rules lately.

  “Y/N, please don’t leave me... Wake up.” Cass shook your shoulders gently and his heart pounded softly. He was struck with the fear that he would never again see your smile. Behind the tragic scene, Dean bit his lip and glanced at his brother knowingly, whose head was down in mourning. Losing people was in their job description, but they never thought they would lose you too.

Castiel knelt on the ground with your body early into the cold morning, just stroking your stiff, soft skin. Sam and Dean couldn’t bear it any longer, especially since they couldn’t feel their toes.

  “Cass, buddy. Y/N’s gone... we gotta go.” He didn’t want to pry him away from you; he knew as well as his brother that in the time you’d known each other, Cass felt a certain way about you that was unheard of in angel disposition.  

Rigid, Castiel stood up, holding your limp body bridal style in his arms. His eyes were cold and fixed upon the ground.

  “Cass, you know anything else about- Hey, Cass,” Dean repeated as he looked up from the lore book that lay on the kitchen table.

Castiel was standing near one of the bookshelves with an old shoebox in front of him, a shoebox he kept of your things.

  “Cass?” Sam piped up, which earned them a look from the angel.

  “You okay?” Dean asked. Castiel nodded slowly and glanced back into the box briefly before putting it back on the shelf. Whatever was in his hands, he folded and tucked into one of his coat pockets.

  “Yes, I am okay. What is it you need help with?” He was quick to change the subject.

As Dean explained their newest case file, Castiel’s mind wandered.

It had already been a few months since your death and he still regretted the fact that he hadn’t tried to save you.

His eyes had lost their lustre and his voice had lost its sincerity. He no longer could feel the warmth of your touch or the feeling that sparked inside him whenever he would see your face.

He kept thinking about that godforsaken promise he’d made to you. The promise that you’d proposed all those months back that entailed the angel not to save you if it came down to it. Your rationale was that if you were supposed to die, you were supposed to die. You weren’t going to mess with Fate. It didn’t work out so well last time.

Cass disappeared from the room before the boys realized how tight he was clenching his fists.

Dean let out an exasperated sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

  “He’s gotta get over this damn wall.” He grumbled. His best friend had been disconnected ever since the accident, and they needed him to be at his best just in case they needed him.

  “C’mon Dean, you can’t blame him, and we can’t just keep asking him to solve our problems,” Sam said softly, uncrossing his arms and walking around the table to his brother.

  “I’m not asking him to solve our problems, I’m just asking him to get his head out of his ass and take one for the team. He’s gotta get over it at some point.”

  “He lost Y/N, you can’t expect him to be...all there.” Brushing a few strands of hair out of his face, Sam sighed.

  “We lost Y/N, too, Sam. You don’t see me crying about it.” Dean glared up at his brother but Sam knew better. Both of the boys were upset that you were dead, but they both processed it differently. Already, Dean had gone overkill on three big baddies. Sam knew he was taking it hard, but still not as hard as Cas was taking it.

Defeated, Sam spoke again.

  “Even angels need time to grieve, Dean. Give him a break.”

  “Hello, Y/N.” Cass’ gravely voice mumbled, his lips curling slightly at the ends. For some reason, he always hoped you would answer him.

The grey headstone looked back at him with the same blank face as always but he still smiled and sat down on the ground in front of it, fighting back his sadness. The old tree that twisted up behind the grave provided shade for the ground that was patched with unique rays sunlight that managed to stream through the leaves overhead. The sun would be setting soon. Cass’ trench coat flapped gently in the quiet wind and he breathed shallowly.

He made sure to bury your body in the most beautiful place he could find, so secluded and peaceful that only he could visit you there and no one could find you by accident. Having a hunter’s funeral for you, like the boys wanted, was out of the question. He could not let his last memory of you to be filled with fire. He only hoped where you were, you could be as at peace as the river was.

   “The stars should be beautiful tonight.” He looked up through the break in the trees at the sky and left himself in silence, imagining you responding to his statement with a fact about constellations or the recent meteor shower. He looked back down at your grave and sighed.

  “I thought of you again today, Y/N.” His fingers pressed to the ground where he clearly remembered laying your body, wrapped in sheets. The river bubbled by the gravesite and he watched the water find it’s way around the rocks. If only it was that easy for him to get around this rock.

  “I never got to say goodbye to you, Y/N.” Cass’ voice broke. The clouds overhead floated by, ill-concerned about whatever was going on down on earth. If any of his brothers or sisters saw him this way, they would be convinced that Earth had corrupted him, somehow made him more human, which they thought of as a bad thing.

  “You gave me more life than you’ll ever know.” A few tears slid down his cheeks and he pulled the folded item from his pocket. He couldn’t ever tell you how he felt. With trembling hands, he unfolded the photograph and stared at your smile. He’d taken a liking to Polaroid cameras just a few months before your death. And even though he wasn’t particularly good with technology, or photogenic for that matter, he found a way to get a picture of the two of you together. It always made him smile.

He quickly wiped his eyes and started digging a small hole in the dirt in front of the grave, where a few wildflowers had begun to grow.

  “I want you to have this. So you can remember us.” He folded the photograph again, into a small square and he set it into the ground, burying it gently. His tears, by now, had started to flow again, and he imagined them being fuel for more flowers.

Slowly, he stood up again and glanced at his surroundings before turning back to your headstone, where he would make sure it would never snow or be damaged. He intended to visit you often to tell you everything that was happening without you, as much as it broke his heart.

  “Goodbye, Y/N.”

With one more look, Castiel pressed a kiss to his fingers and set them on the top of your headstone.

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[jamiemcconville]

Seeing The Light

For my first mission as part of the “Seeing the Light” task for college. I have been sent out to research and discover all I can about the styles and sub-genres of portrait photography, learning about some iconic photos of such a large industry in photography, to learn what makes it such a marketable field tick. hopefully by the end of this research and with a small miracle, I’ll have developed myself into someone that can confidently market themselves as a competent portrait photographer, that can create their own style and atmospheres in multiple settings.

Street Photography

Part 1

To start this goliath of a task off, I’ll be documenting my findings on the different genres within portrait photography, and what better of a genre to start off with than street portraits. Grimy, gritty, full of detail and atmosphere, this is such a big genre of photography I’d say certain subgenres of street photography stand out themselves, however I’ll be focusing on one specific photographer who I think captures the true essence of street photography, and this titan of the industry is Boogie, a Serbian photographer who had been raised during the civil strife of his home nation during the 90’s, it defined his style, his nature as a photographer and led him to create the stunning portraits he creates today.  

Images such as the one above taken by Boogie, they create a fast-moving atmosphere of city life, the lights of the city streets he uses to his advantage, they give vibrance and contrast to the focal point in this photo. What I really enjoy myself about photos like this is the technique used to create it, a black and white format that gives a jaded look to the main subject of the photo and really makes the background lighting shine, combined with the wider angle and aperture used, it leaves just enough of the background to be seen that it gives an atmosphere of life going by, however time stands still as the subject matter looks to the camera. The composition purposefully includes the street overhead of the subject that I believe adds even more to the atmosphere already described. Also, to be noted is the height at which the photo was taken, at eye-level, as if you were in the scene standing there with someone looking back at you. I’d say as a closer that this style of photo by Boogie could be used as an advertisement for cosmetics or clothing, given that the right brands are present in the snap.

You can view more of Boogie’s work here.

Industrial Photography

 Now that there’s been a wee bit said on the topic of street photography, I’ll be moving onto a dive into the subgenre that is industrial portraiture. From a car repair garage in Glasgow to blacksmiths workshop in eastern Russia, this type of portraiture is all about capturing the subject in and around the heavy-machinery environment they thrive in. Hobby or Work, rain or shine, they are captured and presented in action, living their life and doing it in pure photogenic beauty.

For the topic of Industrial portraiture, I’ll have to look to Russian photographer Roman Shalenkin for inspiration. Roman’s Industrial portraits and landscapes are heavily influenced by the coal mining and manufacturing industry of the region, normally containing mine workers and welders in his shoots, it’s one of these photos I’ll be taking a gander at, to get a feel for and analyse his work.

                                       Straight off you can take in the scene in this photo, a coal miner down in the mines, face dirty, doing his job. Roman was very creative in this photo using the artificial lighting of the mineshaft machinery and spotlights for his scene, a wonderful feature that makes the backdrop feel alive and also helps zone in on the miners face, with the light shining behind him as he poses a little for the shot. You can practically smell the coal from this photo, as the miner is down in the mine, providing what’ll be used for energy after being carted from the mine. The type of atmosphere and setting in this photo leads me to say that this photo would be well suited to be sold independently as prints or even featured in a journalistic piece.

You can find more of Roman’s work here: http://shalenkin.ru/

Fine-Art Photography

For the third category of portraiture being discussed here I’ll be looking into Fine Art portraiture, a genre which is about beauty, art in photographic form and of course some more art lathered on top; This genre occasionally at times overlaps with fashion or Glamour photography, since fashion, beauty standards and artistic design often coincide, but it’s main focus isn’t at all the brand of robes being dawned or a logo stitched onto a bralette, it’s about, well… art, and what the perception of art in photographic and human form is. Focusing on what makes humans appear attractive and showcasing human beauty as an art form is integral to this type of portraiture.

With all that being said, after long consideration on who I’ll be talking about, I’ve decided to showcase Jingna Zhang for this genre; Zhang is a Chinese-Singaporean Fine-arts, Glamour and fashion photographer who I believe truly captures the essence of photographic art in her shots.

It’s this shot, from Zhang’s Motherland Chronicles Series that I’ll be focusing about Fine-Art photography with. I chose this shot because it showcases the cultural differences in beauty standards across the world, with this style of makeup and clothing being traditionally considered more beautiful and artistic in most Asian nations compared to western nations, the oriental style with white makeup and bright colours really appeals when contrasted with the black background, using a standard bust-up and center composition for the photo, it leaves out all other possibly distracting elements and invites you to admire the style and beauty of the subject, looking toward the camera with a gaze and slightly parted lips; Zhang has also used artificial lighting in this photograph, which aides in enhancing the focus on the main subject, brightening her and letting the red colours release their vibrance, I’d dare say this photo could definitely be a front page art magazine shot, or even controversially hang on a wall among painted artworks, as Zhang has proved many times over they are more than capable of landing multiple Vogue features in succession.

You can view more of Zhang’s work here: https://www.zhangjingna.com/new-work/

As part 2 of my task, I’ve been challenged to find a photographer that I didn’t know of beforehand, and see what I can uncover about their work, background and influences.

 I’ll be choosing one of the photographers I discovered today while writing this post up as my subject, none other than Boogie, the Serbian photographer raised in the civil strife of his home nation. Boogie has established himself in the street photography industry, taking captivating portraits that have been eaten up by capitalist industry giants all over, from the New York Times to Nike and even Time Magazine, just to drop a few names. The photographer was born in Belgrade, Serbia and began documenting the unrest in his country as a young man, which developed his iconic style of photographing the dark nature of the streets.

Boogie was granted citizenship to the united states and moved to New York City in 1998, being based in Brooklyn, the perfect area for his street photography art; after firmly establishing himself as a real contender for multiple photography awards the world over, with his unique and gritty style, he’s went on to be nominated for photography book awards and has had his work showcased in multiple exhibitions the world over.

Of all the project that boogie has taken on and posted to his website, there are certainly a few standouts of course; being true to the nature of his photography, the aptly named “Gangs” project on his website showcases what I think the man is able to photograph best: dark and violent human nature and what it means, as well as the conflict in his subjects between morality and insanity. The project is full of New York gang culture, with plenty of intense shots including gangsters contemplating with firearms, shots that are packed with raw emotions and also shots with a plentiful amount of gang-like intimidation and boasting.

[clove-teasdale]

the ticket out

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A/N: practice challenge numero one guys. barely edited really cause  t i m e. hope you enjoy it though! I’m trying present tense and a voice I’m not used to, so sorry if this sucks lol. there are some jumps in time in this just so you know

*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧

So, you all know those power walks TV shows always have with amazing background music that makes the main characters look as cool as possible, right?

You probably also know those don’t happen in real life. Sadly, we don’t have music to create perfect atmospheres every time our lives decide to have a scene and be dramatic—also there’s the fact normal people shouldn’t look that good while walking—but in my head I still do them.

Music blaring in my ears as I walk with my backpack slung over my shoulder in the school’s hallways. It does help that people tend to recognize me when they see me, even when I don’t want them to. It can’t be as nice without the beat my headphones add, however.

Pity...but I don’t really mind.

If you feel confident you look confident.

Unless you’re Wilson. The kid wouldn’t look good even if there were actual music and editing involved. Thinking about the little brat makes me look at my watch out of habit. 7:15. He should be here soon so I take an earbud out, letting new sounds mix with my background music. 

Laughs bubbling out of people’s mouths and different voices overlap each other, more than in your average high school weekday. Anyone can tell the school year is coming to an end and that’ll mean college in a few months for many. I’ve been one of the few who decided to wait another year before starting. Taking a gap year for the fun of it is as good as any excuse. No one really needs to know about my indecisiveness over a major. If I don’t figure it out film student is still at the top of my list.

Just as I’m thinking about the other options I’ve always considered and open my locker, Wilson appears next to me, shoving the book I lent him yesterday in my face.

“You owe me five bucks.”

I spare him a glance and notice his black hair is a bigger mess than usual. “I don’t owe you anything.”

He leans on the locker next to mine, eyes fixing on the opposite row of lockers across the hall. “You said, and I quote: I bet you can’t finish this book in a day.”

“That was a rhetorical bet.”

“You're too literal for rhetorical. I took it as a real bet.”

“So your excuse is that I should pay you because I usually mean what I say and therefore you thought I was daring you to do it?”

“Yes.”

I try not to laugh at his reaching there. “You let your hair be a mess just to finish the book in the morning didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Well, that’s five bucks you’re never getting, kid.”

“But I didn’t sleep to finish it!”

I snatch the book from his hand as he points accusingly at me with it, then close my locker after putting it inside with a smirk. “And that’s my problem because?”

“Whatever,” he mumbles with an eye roll. However, after a while of walking along the hallway, he adds, “okay, but can you lend me five bucks then?”

I stop before we turn around a corner, suspicion taking over. “Did Cooper steal your lunch money again?”

He clenches his jaw at the name, yet shakes his head. “No, I just lost my money on a bet.”

Glaring, I push him into the hallway his classroom is in before spinning around on my heel.

Taking a peek through the velvet curtain in our suite reveals reporters at the ready. Cameras or portable recorders in hand even though it’ll only take us a few seconds to get to our waiting car. They seem to believe they’ll get to make some questions. They always seem to believe that, but the best they get is a picture of Dad smiling as he walks, his arm behind my back as if to make sure no one gets too close.

The reporters are lucky enough to get that really. Usually, royal advisers avoid the public media unless it’s planned. Dad just happens to be incredibly photogenic and friendly. He could be in the middle of eating the biggest hamburger available, entirely focused on it, and still manage to look frame worthy.

Doesn’t mean there aren’t times when he can’t look good from any angle though. When he’s being stupid for example.

I look over my shoulder to reassure that fact and find him sitting on the sofa, glaring up at Mom as she argues with him in hushed tones. Definitely not picture worthy. He takes a deep breath and looks away from her with irritation before replying back like she’s being irrational. She isn’t. I know that even though I’m not bothering to read their lips. More often than not, he’s in the wrong and just doesn’t want to listen.

One of the downsides of taking a gap year is that now I don’t have an excuse not to go with them on work-related trips, the kind of events where arguing happens easily. I hadn’t thought that through, forgetting how bad things can get quickly, but at least they can’t really yell right now. The risk of being heard by a passing guest in the hotel is too high to take. That’s good news for my eardrums since the volume can stay at a reasonable level and it's sufficient enough to drown their voices out.

Mom proceeds the discussion by pointing at Dad, jaw clenched. That’s the moment my sight drifts back to the window. Before I get too curious about what she’s saying and lower the volume of my music. When she looks that upset she tends to mention the saddest truths.

With some time I learned hearing them fight wasn’t that bad until they got to that breaking point. I can pretend not to care until then, even without headphones. When mom’s voice breaks and her eyes get glassy though, it’s time to push curiosity away. Push it away before you start thinking about how nice it can be when the three of us are in harmony. All jokes and games and laughs. When the broken pieces aren’t overwhelming. The normal family everyone thinks the Teasdale’s are.

That’s what really hurts.

I gulp the lump in my throat and try to focus on the music again, picturing a scene in one of the projects I have in my head at the moment. If only I ever got to writing an actual script instead of leaving it in my head.

Wilson has decided to ‘be more healthy’ and take morning walks with me on weekends now. I take that as his excuse to hang out more with me since I’m not in school anymore.

“So did you receive the letter from the one and only?” He says, completely changing our topic. I pretend not to be fazed by the fact that he’s changing our line of conversation to stop me from prying about this girl he’s probably crushing on in class.

“What are you talking about?”

“The Selection? Come on, Clove. Half the girls in class are sulking about what a bummer it is they’re not old enough to apply, while the other half is squealing about how they could get a chance to meet prince Nate.”

There’s a hint of annoyance in his tone I’d probably identify with if I were in his grade. Still, I elbow him with a smirk and ask, “In which group is our mystery girl?”

His cheeks heat up in a matter of seconds and he looks at the trees around the park. “I asked you first.”

“Well, I don’t really know. I hadn’t considered it.”

“Don’t you already know the dude and all?”

Yeah, before puberty hit hard.

“That’s not really an advantage. I stopped going on trips to the palace with my dad years ago and on important events, the prince is the center of attention so...”

“You stay away, yeah, yeah.”

I look at the neat envelope in my hands and then at my mother again.

“You really think it’s a good idea?” The suggestion is kind of unexpected as she sits on the chair in front of my desk and I get closer to the edge of my bed.

Her lips turn into a thin line at the question. “It could be interesting….”

“But this would mean leaving Columbia to go to Angeles... hypothetically.  If my name gets picked over the other million girls.”  

“I know.” She smiles a bit sadly at the thought, which isn’t a surprise and is why the suggestion strikes me as odd. My confusion is evident and she takes a deep breath. “It gives you a chance to leave the house earlier. No need to wait for college.”

My brows furrow. “What are you—”

“Your father and I have been arguing more lately, I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

I scratch the back of my head awkwardly at that but nod.  

“I… I’m very sorry about that.” She adds with a sad glance at her hands, a sigh escaping her lips before she runs a hand through her hair. I tell her it’s fine. Sometimes it feels wrong to expect her to apologize when she doesn’t really plan for things to become a discussion anyway.

“It isn’t fine. Though it’s become inevitable lately.” She stares at the ceiling for a moment before continuing. “He’s stubborn and I’m done with trying to make him understand simple things, but sometimes I can’t let it slide or he’ll really mess up. Sadly, I can’t let that happen yet.”

I nod again. Whether he admits it to himself or not, Dad wouldn’t be what he is today without mom’s help over the years. “What does this have to do with me applying for the Selection though?”

“I’ll have to deal with your father for a while longer Clove… but you don’t need to be here in the heat of it all… The Selection is your early ticket out of this mess since you’re not leaving for college yet. Your chance to be independent. Or as independent as possible.” When I just stare at her she adds, “I know how overwhelming it can be sometimes when I… disagree on something with him. I know that it’s hard in the moment…” She reaches for my hand with a small smile. “I made a few mistakes and I have to deal with them now, but you don’t have to. You can live your life better than I did, find your own path and maybe even have some fun.”

“With the Selection?” I mumble, skeptically staring at the envelope once more. High-quality paper wasted on something I can’t even reuse.

“Why not? As long as you’re careful not to be fooled by pretty royal smiles...” She teases and I make a face. That earns a laugh from her. “Give it a shot if you want, that’s all I’m saying. You did always say you liked Angeles better and it’s free of your annoying parents.”

“Alright… I’ll think about it.”

And so I found myself filling a form the next day. Taking a picture like hundreds of other girls around the country. 

Maybe I’ll get to see how much Illea’s golden boy has changed.

[bangtan-spells]

Jimin Scenario: Take Me Away.

Request: Where jimin is a photographer, & Y/A is a writer. They meet in a train, & ending up stoping in unknown destination, they get to know each other, & start to like each other. Thanks

Genre: Fluff

Jimin heard the muffled rustle and took his eyes away from the lens, he’d been trying to get a nice shot of the train station and capture that sort of nostalgic feeling of it, the lighting was right, the quiet coming and going of the passersby was too, but something was bothering him and stopping him from snapping the picture, so he looked back at the sound with the hope of clearing his mind  and saw an employee from the train talking to a girl, Jimin distinguished a few apologies and the rest of the conversation couldn’t be good news for the look of it.

He wasn’t usually prying but he heard there was a problem with the seats assignments and since the train was about to leave the station you wouldn’t have time to fix it and then come back. Jimin inspected you better, his trained eyes took in the shape of your face and its angles, you would do well in portraits he thought, your eyes were expressive without being forced, your hair was tied up in a stylish bun and he liked the curve that your neck drew exposed like that, he was certain that with your head titled a little to the side your neck would stand out beautifully in a photograph along with your cheekbones. Your lips were nicely shaped and feminine, you had a bright sort of coral red lipstick that was vivacious and Jimin wondered if your personality was like that.

You started to walk with the employee towards Jimin’s seat and he busied himself with his camera, pretending he didn’t make a full study of you just seconds ago.

– Excuse me, we’re trying to solve a situation, there was glitch in the system and apparently some seats were given to two people at the same time – the employee called Jimin’s attention, signaling to the seat in front of his. –Is this seat occupied? –

Jimin denied with his head, looking from the man to you. –No, as long as I know…–

–Well… you could sit here meanwhile miss – the employee turned to you and then went to the other passengers, leaving you standing there looking a little uncomfortable.

–I’m sorry if you wanted to travel alone…– you said looking at him while taking a seat and Jimin laughed, denying with his head. –Things sometimes don’t work out the way we expect them to be, or as smooth as they go in books… oh, sorry, I’m rambling –

You giggled a little when you noticed the way Jimin was looking at you and he laughed again, his eyes still on you. –Did you want to start this like a story from a book? –

You met his eyes again, you looked curiously at him. –Well, kind of… maybe a story of my own, I must sound like crazy I know–

Jimin noticed the stain of blue ink on your ring finger and pinky, then the notebook with a lot of color notes sticking out from the pages and looking like you used it every day so he suspected you wrote those stories you wanted to be part of.

–You can start a story about you since the moment you sat here in from of me, wouldn’t that be nice? – he smiled kindly at you, usually Jimin was really comfortable around strangers and he hoped you didn’t think he was making fun of you, but he found endearing what you said about starting a story of your own.

You looked at him with a smile too, one that lighted up your eyes and Jimin would have loved to catch that expression with his camera for how genuine it was. –I guess it could –

–Then we are set, don’t you think? – Jimin held onto his camera, the train stared to move and you laughed, nodding, a thin lock of hair escaped your bun and you tucked it behind your ear. You had delicate hands, a soft laugh, a somehow bright air about you and Jimin told himself to stop staring or he was going to go from level friendly to level creeper real quick.

The guy in front of you looked taken out of a magazine or something, not only was he friendly but really attractive, you had never seen someone pulling off a hair with that shade so well, the color was almost gray and when the light hit it also showed some type of lilac, it was alluring to look at but you didn’t need it to look at him because you could do that without needing the lilac hair. He didn’t sound cocky or mocking, just friendly and honest, he had a pretty smile and you thought he would fit the story line of a modern prince of sorts.

You laughed, telling yourself to focus, you were always making up little stories in your mind, your imagination never seemed to stop, there were so many things you could bring to life with just a little thought and the right feel that you found yourself getting easily distracted when you found something interesting, and he was the most interesting thing you’d seen so far in your day.

–I think we are – you said with a laugh, taking off the light scarf that had been hanging loosely around your neck and placing it down on the seat, along with your old trusty notebook, a vintage piece that you loved dearly. –I’m Y/N –

–Nice to meet you Y/N, my name is Jimin –

His name suited him, you thought, it sounded sweet and simple but nice, or maybe you were just thinking silly just because you were in front of a hot guy. You told yourself to focus and said it was a pleasure to meet him too.

Jimin was a talker, that you noticed it soon, not of those who were overwhelming and didn’t even seem to breathe properly between words, he had a way of speaking that was light and his voice was nice to hear too, or at least you liked to hear him.

–I haven’t been there but it sounds so nice – you said, Jimin was talking about a time he went to Sweden and you heard him marveled, he had been in a lot of places and now you knew he liked to travel and explore, he didn’t think rainy days were a waste and Korean beef was of his favorite foods. –So you went there just for a photograph? –

–It sounds a little extreme if you put it that way – he laughed, carding a hand through his hair and looking so handsome, he relaxed against the back of his seat and when he looked down his chin and lips got lost on the hem of his black turtleneck that he’d pulled up a little. –But yes, I needed to take a pic myself of that place –

–That’s passion for what you do – if he really was like he was portraying himself in front of you, you liked his personality, his way of thinking, and his drive to achieve what he wanted to, not only was he attractive physically but his personality was a definite must. You cleared your throat and tried to convince yourself that your heart didn’t beat the tiniest bit faster with the sound of Jimin’s laughter.

–Or maybe I’m just a little crazy, but you should go there someday Y/N, it could even give you some inspiration who knows? –

You felt your face a little hot, you’d told Jimin that you were a writer after he said he was a photographer, and he’d been asking about the things you wrote but looking honestly interested, maybe because what he did was a form of art too somehow, but you still felt a little shy when you talked about your work.

The train started to slow down and you looked outside the window, you hadn’t arrived yet so what was happening? Jimin looked at you surprised too and then there was an announce on the speakers, you had to make a stop because of an apparent failure, the driver excused with all the passengers and said you were near a small village.

–Maybe it’s my bad luck that ruined the train too oh my god – you laughed, thinking of all the bumps you’d had on that day right when you decided to take onto a little exploring all by yourself. Jimin shook his head and stood up, taking a dark gray backpack from above his seat.

–I don’t think so, maybe we’ll get to see something nice around here, let’s go – he smiled at you in such a way that you wouldn’t have said no not even if you wanted to.

 When Jimin and you stepped out of the train you noticed the place was almost in the middle of nowhere, but a small village was near and there were some sellers on that station. None of you knew that place so all this was new.

–This looks lovely – you said giggling, it was like a movie or something and Jimin agreed by your side.

–It has character, I like it – he answered, looking through his camera. The station looked a little old but he liked it, so he took a photograph right there, then he turned around and saw you through the camera, gazing around just as he’d done, you were unaware of him looking at you the way he was doing and Jimin couldn’t hold himself back from taking a photograph of you.

You were standing giving your back to him, your head tilted back a little and one hand resting at the side  of your neck, even so, he could say you were photogenic, or maybe it was just that he liked the way you looked. Jimin smiled to himself, licking his lips, you didn’t only do well in photographs but you were alluring, there was something about you that made him keep the talk going, to want to know more about you and the things you liked to do, he could perfectly imagine himself with a girl like you and he didn’t know if he was a romantic or not, but maybe he’d fallen a little for you on your way there.

–Maybe we should go and explore – he said, you turned around to look at him and Jimin lost his breath a little, but was quick to disguise it, clearing his throat and looking down at the picture he’d just taken of you. He was going to show it to you, but not right now, actually, he wanted to take a couple more, you looked great just standing there with your cute bun, with your bright eyes and amazing smile, he’d never felt so enthralled in front of a girl before but he somehow wanted to fill his memory card with pictures of you.

–Shouldn’t we stay here until they fix whatever is wrong? – you asked, but he could see a shine of curiosity in your eyes, something that was telling him that you wanted to do what he’d said. –I don’t know…– you laughed cutely and looked down.

–It will be a little adventure – Jimin saw you biting your lower lip, you had nice lips and he’d lost the count of times he’d thought that already. –I promise you won’t get lost alone, we’ll get lost together –

You laughed then and he couldn’t help but do the same. –Is that supposed to make me feel better? –

–I was hoping so – Jimin fixed the strap of his camera around his neck and shrugged. –It will be you, me and this amazing place we have to know –

You looked at Jimin excited, you’d never done this, but you’d told yourself that morning that you wanted to do something new and different today, that’s why you’d taken that train and fate or not, now you had Jimin there, who was fun, attractive and nice; wasn’t this like one of those novels? Of those romantic stories you himself had written about two people meeting unexpectedly and finding each other in the middle of their wanderlust?

You smiled, nodding and tugging at Jimin’s arm lightly. –What are we waiting for? We need to be back before the train leaves Jimin –

The delighted laugh that Jimin let out right there made you feel even more excited, livelier, daring, and you two walked fast away from the station, there was this new place you had to discover together and you knew that deep down, you wouldn’t really mind getting lost with Jimin.

[kookiebluey]

Wlog for the BTS London concert on the 10th💓

Just so I don't forget, I’d like to write down how I felt b4, during and after the BTS concert on the 10th💜

 I remember it wasn't a chill day at all, and I went to tutorials and lectures in the first half of the day. Can't say that I'm extremely excited cuz I was never really hyped for anything. It's not because I didn't like BTS enough, it's the fear of expecting too much and end up getting disappointed somehow. Well, I guess I was wrong and I could have looked forward to it even more xd

 I went back home after the computational lecture ended, then packed up my stuff (which was partly packed the nite b4) as quickly as I could. When I thought everything was settled, I realised that my parcel has arrived and I haven't printed my ticket yet. Everything was done in a hurry, and I left home at 2:05 for a 2:15 train.

 On the train, I was still kinda calm and had a look thru my notes from class. Then I spent the rest of the time sleeping and imaging how would I feel when I actually meet them at the concert. Would it feel like how it was in my dream? Or would it be something completely different?

 I arrived at London and google mapped how should I get to O2 arena cuz hahah I had no idea. Everything went by smoothly and I even managed to follow someone with a "jungkook 98" shirt when I sort of got lost hahaha.

 I took pictures of boards that were at the station and made a call to see where Joey is. Joey was already queuing. Lol up till this point, I kinda hoped that I've vlog-ed this. Its gonna be so much fun going back and rewatching everything. Anyways, Joey introduced me to her friends and we went on talking about what we could do inside. She prepared everything for me - like the lightstick, batteries, telling me they wouldn't really go thru my stuff hence its ok if I had a lot of stuff with me lolz

 We finally got in and we went up to get some drinks (which I didn't). I said bye to Joey (cuz we sit in different areas) and went to the toilet to change into a black T-shirt I got from Korea (haha I know its an unnecessary fact).

 Then, finally, I entered the arena and managed to find my seat. Sadly, on my seat, there's this girl that wanted to sit with her fd and would trade for a seat that's much further away from the stage (honestly wtf). I insisted that I'd like to keep my seat and eventually she gave in.

 I then had conversations with her fd (ie the person next to me now) and she went on about how she coped with their concert yesterday at the pit. She seemed to be a really old fan and had went to a lot of the functions in the past. I don't entirely agree but I said nothing hahah (I mean whats the point in arguing - its not like Im gonna see her after this).

 The fans were really hyped and they sang fanchants in every MV that came up at the arena. Love to see how the staffs' expressions are hahah - they'd be like wtf BTS is not even here what are u guys on about? Hahah bro I feel u I felt the exact same thing xd

 Finally it hit 8pm and the concert is about to start. They came out after a series of promo vids and after a marvellous stage arrangement. It was really hyped and it really lits up your mood. Just imagine someone really calm like me (ie calm during clubbings and all) getting really hyped and stuff hahah~

 I was really worried that I could bearly see Jungkook cuz he got injured and might stay at the main stage. BUTTT he actually brought his chair to the extended stage and sat at my side of the stage!!! Don't get me wrong, but I might have saw him better just cuz he was sitting the whole time xd

 It's that feeling when something that's on ur screen, on your wall or even in ur dreams (but is somehow non existing in ur life) suddenly was in front of you. I guess I was just 20 steps away from them if there were a platform from my seat to the extended stage. It was so close and you could see their facial expression so clearly. Even tho I couldn't make a heart or anything (cuz its embarrassing), or even get eye contacts, its still like a dream come true.

 I could see their little interactions right in front of my eyes, and hear their voices live. All of the members did a magnificent job and I honestly fell in love with every one of their performances. If I did said anything about having a bias and all, its really nothing like that anymore. I like every member and they are all so good looking (omg Jin is sosososososososo handsome I cannot).

 Standing for a total of 2 hours but it felt like 15 mins. Every song sounded so much more better live, and seeing them dancing so so close to you. It's a moment when you feel they are actual human beings - not cartoon, not animations.

 Jimin's performance actually did hit me - he was so attractive omg!! He also so cute when he looked around to try to interact with any fans that tries to catch his attention!

Jhope, Suga and Rapmon's performances were so lit!! Even tho they were never my favourite, they look so much more better in person!

Jungkook got injuried, so he sat down on a chair the whole time. But his voice was so angelic - and hahah I caught that moment when he forgot to sing a line - cuteeee. His interaction with his hyungs were also adorable - I love how they involved him even tho he couldn't dance, and he also tried to join in the dance even on the chair xdd - the thing is, he is a little conserved and he do not have actual interaction with any of the fans - but that's him and it isn't necessarily a good or bad thing. (btw JK look exactly like in photos and videos and thank god he decided to sit at my side of the stage on the day of my concert)

Jin, as what I've said, is so attractive omg!! He is THE VISUAL - no doubt  - he is stunning in person!!

V has his own charm as usual. He also looks exactly the same in phots and vids - and I caught the cute moment when he smiled at JK and start dancing his part hahah he also got "shot" by a fan's heart (I believe) and pretended that he got shot on stage - hahahah so freakin cute

 They all had really natural expressions during performances - and you couldn't imagine how could a person look so good in any angle and at any moment - its almost like calculated moves - and they are photogenic at every point of their performances -

What I had to do is to pick out moments that my camera didn't went out of focus or pointing at a wrong angle - they look fab in every single moment - no joke

 Ok so the conclusion is I was totally enjoying every moment and did not felt bored at any point of the concert - like not even slightly

I only wish time went by slower cuz I couldn't grasp all the moments that I'd like to record on my phone or to be aware of

 So I could tell Jungkook was a bit depressed in general but at least he didn't cry like how he did in the last concert - I really feel bad for him and thank god he didn't perform - I have a feeling I'm gonna be even more depressed cuz I'll miss his performance the most hahah

 Anyways then the concert ended and I asked every possible person to send me their vids. But honestly the ending was so sad. I actually felt like crying, but I didn't cuz I stopped myself from anticipating the concert too much in the first place, and therefore the contrast wasn't as great.

 Joey was really really depressed and I totally get it. Never thought you'd feel so at lost after you went to a concert you love. Its that feeling that "yeah they're right in front of you but now we had to take that back". Its really hopeless and you suddenly realised they are really superstars.

Its not like I wasn't aware of that fact that they are actual stars, but this reality hit you really hard when youre in a concert. There were so many armys and they wouldn't even know that you've existed. Its sad that they were so close and now you've understood that they are not your fds (even tho they seem like it in vids) but actual stars that are so out of reach. The contrast of being so hyped then falling back down to the bottom of the valley (hhaha its so different to the feeling of riding a roller coaster when going down is the best part).

 I love you BTS❤ even tho you'd never know our existence. They are truly remarkable and loved by so many.

 So moving on from this sad topic (XD), I met joey on the next day and convinced her to take a pic of me at an enormous wall with a print of BTS poster. I was kinda shy and couldn't really take a good pic until after a couple shots. We then had flat iron and it was a great restaurant - would really want to go again! We then attempt to take pretentious shots (which joey succeeded, and I hahah obviously failed) and had desserts. We then left to catch the train - but Joey lost her Oyster card:( She said something weird would always happen when shes with me ahahha I wonder why xd

 Yah so this was my marvellous bday gift - cant explain everything in short sentences, but I was so submerged into bts music right after the concert. You could literally think of nothing, do nothing, but listen to their music and rewatch the videos. I really want to keep the solid memory of the experience I've had at the concert - and pls don't forget it!!

 PS I really owe joey a lot cuz she persuaded and helped me to get the ticket. She got a JK fan for me, knowing I'll regret for sure! She knew me too well and at some point in life we do have to live like a teenager when we are teenagers rt? xd

Add-on: OMG so V went to flat iron too - honestly, how could they just walk into a restaurant w/o getting a room or anything, literally, just a table in which anyone could have sat on and anyone could have bumped into them. Sadly he didn’t go to the restaurant I went nor the time I went (I believe) but still happy cuz we had the same food ahahaha

[licencedtoretire]

We headed from Taupo to the Motorhome show at Mystery Creek on Thursday afternoon arriving to find hundreds of motorhomes and caravans had arrived in the short period of time that the gates had been open. I remember last year being stunned at the numbers but this time with us in a different area it was much more noticeable.

We noticed as we drove in that not all where lucky enough to be parked on a level spot and it was about parking where they put you, not where you might want to be. The parking gods however smiled on our motorhome as we ended up on both a level spot and one with unobstructed views down to the Waikato river.

I had noticed in the rear vision camera that we had another Dethleffs in the queue right behind us. So I was wondering as they parked up if we knew them? It turned out to be Graham and Irene who we had met at a Dethleffs get together in Northland a couple of months ago.

It’s quite funny as we wandered around the show to hear the number of salespeople selling various NZ and UK brands commenting about their habitation doors being on the correct side. As Graham pointed out to me later with our door opening out to great views how wrong they where.

The idea of coming to the show was not to buy a motorhome as we are more than happy with the one we brought last year. It was more about having a wander around looking at other models maybe to inspire another blog or to look at the accessories to see if there was something that we really “must have”. Actually we did decided to look at a washing machine but didn’t end up buying one although we may still do so.

Prior to arriving at the show Chris Miller who writes the blog Buggeritweareoff.com had contacted me to ask if we could have a catch up at the show. I though this would be a great idea as Chris has both inspired me and helped us find travel destinations with his blogs. Not long after we were set up I sent him a message letting him know we had parked up and the kettle was on.

Chris and I write about similar things but have a quite different way of going about it by profession Chris is a photographer and so his blogs tend to focus on the visual aspect of things with Chris spending hours on the computer putting galleries together to use in his posts. Whereas I tend to be more about the story and less about the pictures and spend my hours writing and rewriting my story.

Sarah laughed at both of us when she saw us comparing stat’s on views etc she said it was almost like looking at a mirror image of me. In reality though its about ensuring that what you write is topical and interesting with the stats being a reflection of how well received your post has been.

Chris has been writing his blog now for over three years and is now approaching 600,000 views on the site a really impressive number and something that I think shows how well received his blog has been and the way that he has captured the motorhome scene with his impressive photography.

I was very lucky with Chris sharing a couple of his secrets during our discussions. It’s always nice to be able to share what you have learnt and I hope he got something out of the discussion as well.

It was great catching up with Chris (he’s the handsome one on the right) having the chance to share our thoughts about the whole blogging process and compare notes. We will need to do it again soon.

We were wandering around the motorhome show when Joy from Stories from the Road recognised my wife Sarah, probably because I very rarely publish photos of myself as she is far more photogenic than I am. Or at least I think so.

Although we didn’t talk for long Joy and her husband John were at the show for much the same reason as us a bit of a catch up on all things motorhoming also to have a look at some of those much needed accessories that go with your motorhome.

Although Joy has not been blogging for long she is keen to expand her skills. Having won some awards in the past for her photography you can see with what she has already done that the blend of photos and text lend themselves to a very readable blog.

Joy is still experimenting with WordPress the publishing medium for a lot of bloggers so expect to see a few changes to her blog as she finds her blogging feet. Maybe add her to your favourites so you will see the changes as they roll out.

The final catch up at the Motorhome Show was with Karen from TravellingK who decided a couple of years ago that living in a flat in Auckland was not for her. Karen decided that as a professional graphic designer she could take her business on the road and work and live almost wherever she felt like.

Karen looked a few different options and in the end opted for a caravan as the most suitable and affordable for her. From this caravan she has set it up as a mobile studio that allows her to do her graphic design at the same time as filming and editing her video blogs.

That’s right unlike Chris and Joy, Karen shares her posts via video onto Youtube with segments around 8 to 9 minutes with a lot of these about daily life. There are however a number of practical self help videos that I would think would be really useful to watch if you were thinking about hitting the road.

The one thing about being on Youtube with thousands of followers is that you get recognised and while we where having our chat a couple came up to introduce themselves to her. It was nice for them to have the chance to meet her personally and both are avid followers of her vlog.

Whilst the couple had heard of and read my blog I am much more anonymous without having to front a video, I am not sure that I would feel comfortable doing that and admire Karen for her presentation skills.

There are a number of people writing about their adventures both in motorhomes and caravans. In fact between Karen and myself we estimate around 20, and reading these can be a real source of inspiration about places to visit or even a fix for your motorhome problem as some bloggers are also very practical (not me)

Karen has sent me a list she has compiled of other bloggers and I have added a couple of entries I think between the two of us we might publish the links on our websites soon giving our readers and viewers a chance to experience more.

I am still trying to get over all those motorhomes at the show. Someone told me that there were over 1000 parked at the show on Friday night. It was however wonderful to meet three other people who have the same passion I do, telling tales about their lives in either their motorhome or caravan.

If you are on the road and would like to catch up please feel free to flick me an email mail@johnpedersen.co.nz let me know where you are and we will see what we can do. By the same token if we happen to be staying at the same place you are don’t be afraid to come say hello, it’s always nice to meet new people.

To view the places we have visited click here to see them on Google maps. You can click the links to read the blog about that area. [cardoza_facebook_like_box] To view the Ratings we have done for other camps click here  [jetpack_subscription_form]

Meeting The Motorhome Bloggers We headed from Taupo to the Motorhome show at Mystery Creek on Thursday afternoon arriving to find hundreds of motorhomes and caravans had arrived in the short period of time that the gates had been open.

[daveywankenobie]

(Part one of this story can be found here. Part part two is here).

So, like the last two posts – I’m at the Ritz Carlton in London.

I know I know. It’s bizarre – but nevertheless I’m there, I have a key and security haven’t dragged me out yet. It wouldn’t be hard if they wanted to though – because I’m exhausted and I simply can’t sleep.

Lets face it – this is fairly typical behaviour at the best of times. I probably couldn’t write a blog if my brain ever really switched off. Content creation would be impossible. Even by my standards though this was A1 MILITARY GRADE WEAPONISED INSOMNIA.

After my friend had gone to bed I’d taken a long hot shower in my insanely massive marble shower at the end of my insanely massive marble bathroom where there was a Batphone on the wall in easy reach of the toilet, shower and bidet.

Sadly even after this and slipping on my super soft Ritz slippers I didn’t feel that it had come even close to making me sleepy.

For a moment I toyed with the idea of using the Batphone to call for a butler to read a bedtime story to me – but eventually decided against it.

It was just me vs the ridiculously nice room at 3am.

Things kept going through my mind – and as well as being in an unfamiliar place with a strange bed and a ceiling that looked like it belonged in a museum I couldn’t stop pondering the events in my life that had led up to where I was at that particular moment.

In a matter of hours I would be standing in front of the NATIONAL PRESS and then the world would make whatever it wanted to out of me.

More importantly though I realised that whilst I’d been out at the restaurant a biscuit fairy had entered the room, tidied my stuff up, pulled a little TV remote shelf out of the nightstand, rested a sky remote upon it and left a macaroon on the table by the window.

This began to turn over and over in my head.

Why a macaroon? what was its significance?

There was one in the drawing room as well and both looked as perfect as it’s possible for a macaroon to be. Maybe it was a test. Maybe it wasn’t real.

I resolved not to eat it.

I don’t trust strange macaroons that appear out of no-where on china saucers.

Besides – I’d already managed to demolish an entire fruit bowl and a bunch of grapes and I still needed to get into a perfectly fitted suit in the morning.

I went to sat in the drawing room in my Ritz slippers and my Ritz bathrobe next to my Ritz champagne to work on my blog.

Maybe THAT would make me sleepy.

This had no effect, so after another few hours I decided to take another shower and this time turn the temperature up to max.

Other than giving me third degree burns this too failed in its allowed task – and by the time the morning rolled around and the sun came up (despite sitting at the antique writing desk by a picture of Andy Warhol for inspiration) I was no further forward with my blog and no closer to sleep.

By that point I’d been awake for over 24 hours and I wasn’t sure I would be able to tell someone my name at that point if they asked me to – let alone conduct a press interview.

I decided to eat the pink stealth macaroon.

Flipping heck! It was absolutely wonderful!

With a hint of almond sweetness it practically melted on the tongue and turned into a liquid. It was gone almost as soon as it passed my lips, but left a lingering taste that was divine…

Thankfully to save me from my endless reflection (and eating the other one) my cheerful companion woke up and padded into the drawing room from her apartment next door.

I waited until she was sat down and then passed the second plate with the single biscuit under her nose.

‘It’s sooooo nice…’ I said (rather seductively).

‘Ummm…’ she replied, looking at it and (like myself) wondering about the stealth macaroon’s purpose.

‘Just eat it. Twist it’s lid and pop it in your mouth.’ I said.

She looked at me and then at the incognito pastry. Over my shoulder she spotted the completely empty fruit bowl. She knew that this was her last chance.

She needed to eat it now or I would.

She picked up the macaroon from the saucer and twisted it. It’s delicate pink body started to crumble and she quickly popped the whole macaroon into her mouth and sucked.

‘Ohaassgud…’ she said with a mouth full of stealth macaroon. ‘Assrreeeeeeelygud…’ she mumbled as it melted in her mouth.

I placed the saucer back on the table. That was the last of the mysterious stealth macaroons, but its taste was still there and it had stimulated hunger pangs.

Thankfully it was nearly time for the room service meal we’d ordered the night before – and within moments a butler arrived with a hostess trolley and set it up in front of Andy Warhol.

He didn’t blink.

The butler placed two (ironed) copies of the Telegraph next to the television and stealthily exited almost as invisibly as the macaroons had entered.

I couldn’t tell if Andy approved of breakfast (although from a SW perspective it was spot on) and as I sat down he was intently staring at me over my friend’s shoulder. Maybe he too had eaten a macaroon in this chair during his stay – followed by a full English and a copy of the Telegraph.

Both of us by now were just blown away by the sheer weirdness of it all – and it was all almost we could talk about over the fine crockery and delicious food.

the other topic was that neither of us (it turned out) had slept particularly soundly – and we were preoccupied with the knowledge that this was all a rather unreal experience. None of it made much sense.

At least there was finally some coffee though.

Some things in life remain uncomplicated regardless of the cost of the ostentatious container it arrives in.

The disconnect from reality didn’t stop me from eating a giant plate of strawberries, raspberries and yogurt with a frikkin silver spoon though.

THAT just had to be done.

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We managed to tuck the breakfast away just in time for the PR team to arrive at 8.30 sharp (as expected – they’re very punctual ladies) and when they did they began to unpack laptops, start checking any current news stories that might affect questions I’d be asked and dress the room with magazines and press packs.

For my part I needed to iron my shirt, so as soon as a butler delivered an ironing board and a steam iron I retired to my room to get rid of some creases and try to relax.

If the jacket and waistcoat had to come off I wanted my shirt to be super sharp.

Also, ironing is calming. I like getting rid of creases.

It wasn’t long before more butlers arrived next door with refreshments – and after a while the drawing room was a hive of activity, with my friend was periodically popping in and out to take cheeky snaps of butlers and get them to make cups of tea for her whilst I got ready.

Soon I was dressed and getting more than a little nervous.

I’d not seen what was going on next door and had been requested to remain separate as the press arrived until I was asked to go downstairs.

There’s only so much you can do standing around aimlessly in a suit though. You don’t want to get it all creased by sitting down unless you have to – so you just have to linger about, looking out of windows and trying to appear photogenic.

If you lurk long enough doing this eventually well dressed ladies will be lured toward you and want to get in on the photographic action on offer.

I can’t complain. It makes for a nice memory!

After a little while the press had all turned up and the PR team migrated them downstairs – so we headed down a rear stairwell to the garden.

This hotel had some pretty ostentatious staircases! This one had a grand piano in it…

I don’t think that there was a single part of the Ritz that I visited during my stay that was any less than completely immaculate and buffed to perfection. I even ran my finger along lots of things everywhere I went to try and find dust.

There wasn’t a single speck.

As we emerged into the daylight I saw a small group of photographers who were all arranged in a bunch facing some neatly manicured bushes.

I was ushered to the front and looked into the array of lenses – and it was then that the endless smiling started.

‘Look here please Dave!’

I smiled and looked. (Flash!)

‘Face me please Dave – give me a big smile!’

I smiled again and looked (Flash!)

‘Down here Dave! THAT’S the pose! Yes, just to the left – and smile!’

I moved to the left, smiled, and looked again. (Flash!)

Before long the waistcoat that I’d chosen became the focus of attention (I blame the world cup – link) and they asked for the jacket to go.

I handed it to the PR team and the smiling and flashing started all over again.

Before long it was prop time too – and I was asked to pose with my old clothes (which I’d been requested to bring along).

I don’t think I’ve ever had to smile so much on cue. I’ve no idea how long this really went on for – but as the PR team periodically rushed in to straighten a pocket, tie or hem the camera kept flashing and the requests for more ‘BIG SMILES’ kept coming.

It seemed like this went on for more than an hour.

I tried my best to accommodate them without appearing like I was smuggling a coat hanger in my mouth – but it’s hard work to look natural in the glare of flash photography for that long!

Once the initial set of photographers had completed their work a video journalist amongst them remained behind and asked me for a few link shots and then an interview.

This was actually the most enjoyable bit so far – as for the first time I’d been engaged and asked how I felt about it all – and he didn’t have a flash.

It was also rather nice to talk to the young man – who seemed genuinely interested in more than just my immense trousers and asked me a lot of questions.

His video actually turned out to be rather good in my opinion (although for expediency it was heavily edited) and can be found here.

While this had been going on a final photographer had arrived a little late and was waiting in the wings with a massive camera holster slung around her tiny waist like she was a character in Westworld.

Since the rest had gone upstairs to hit the drinks trolly, once the video interview was complete she had me all to herself. This turned out to be (I felt) a slightly more personal set of photos as the sudden peace and quiet set the tone.

Also smiling on cue for just one person didn’t feel quite so weird.

It was quite a relaxing end to the proceedings – apart that is from the need to once again clamber in and out of my old trousers – which required a team of ladies to help me get both in and out of one leg without falling over and breaking my neck…

Once that was done we all headed back upstairs – and on the way I started talking to one of the young butlers who’d been keeping us all hydrated.

He seemed very interested in my weight loss – and had confided in my friend during the photoshoots that he too had dropped a few pounds. It turned out that he was a very modest young man – and that he had lost a very impressive five stone – which I congratulated him on.

‘It’s only five stone though’ he said, shrugging a little. ‘It’s not 20.’

‘It’s not ONLY anything.’ I said.

‘Everyone has their own mountain to climb. Mine may have been a little higher – but I bet it was just as hard for you to get started. Be proud that you got to the top! I bet things are better now that you’ve done it.’

He nodded and smiled at me – and we headed back upstairs.

On the way he whispered that we needed to avoid passing too close to the kitchens, where apparently ITV had a camera crew and were filming something else. We had to be quiet.

After tiptoeing past we were soon back up in the suite again – where it was anything BUT silent. The news was on the giant TV for the photographers, and somewhere else in London the Prime Minister was addressing a group of people about something.

She looked tired, and for once I sympathised with her.

I grabbed a coffee and then started chatting to the photographers, who were all keen to ask me questions about my weight loss.

They were all being surprisingly complimentary and saying that the photos had turned out really well. The young lady who took the last few seemed really keen to show me how well – and lifted her laptop to highlight a particularly cheesy grin that I’d made.

As I talked to them it transpired that some of those present had their own battles with fitness. One of them was worried about a family member, and didn’t seem to be able to help them start the process of getting fitter.

No-one amongst them seemed to think that the life of a press photographer was a particularly healthy one. It apparently involved a lot of sitting and waiting – meaning food usually came in the shape of pastries or chocolate, and the chances to move were limited and sporadic.

Drinking was also part of the culture and the social scene invariably involved more than a few pints after work.

It was hard to stay on the straight and narrow, they confided.

I grabbed another coffee.

I hadn’t realised it – but as we were talking (and they were typing) stories were going live in the press – and the PR team were not only updating their own Slimming World pages (link), but tracking what was happening on the wider internet.

One by one all the nationals started putting stories up.

(Daily Mail, another Daily Mail, The Mirror, The Daily Star )

Then some smaller outlets started joining in too  ( link / link / link )

I was just exhausted though. It was now midday – and I’d been up for a long time.

To make it even more daunting I now had to return to Warwick as well.

One by one the press made their excuses, and I shook their hands as they left – until there was only one photographer remaining.

I excused myself, went next door to pack my suitcase and get changed – then came back in to sit down for a little while as the last one got up to leave and the butlers quietly followed.

The room fell silent and I looked over at Andy.

He stared back impassively.

That was it then. My fifteen minutes of fame was at an end.

I couldn’t help thinking how apt it was that he’d been in that room, watching me from within his black and white picture frame – impassively observing the day’s proceedings as his prediction for me came true.

I thanked the PR team and gave them all hugs. They’d been absolutely wonderful – and at no point had I felt that they had anything but my best interests at heart.

Sure – this was PR and it was business – but they’d made it clear that at the heart of the day there was a person – and that he was important to them.

I couldn’t thank them enough. It had been an amazing experience and as tired as I was I had absolutely no regrets.

It had been awesome.

After checking out, myself Angie and my friend hopped into a Taxi and headed for Marleybone station.

We arrived just in time to jump on a train home – where the final surprise was the random guy that I sat next to wanted a selfie with me…

Bizarre.

After that the surrealness was almost at an end.

When I got home Facebook was practically on fire – and the official SW page seemed to have a counter on it that was ticking around in real time. Their views were noticing up into the tens of thousands already!

After attempting (unsuccessfully) to deal with a well wishing avalanche on social media I eventually gave up tilting at windmills and decided I was ready for bed.

By 10pm I’d been awake for 42 hours and I was practically in a coma.

The day finally ended when my friend sent me a message titled simply ‘you’re clickbait mate‘ with a picture.

Mine was the last face I saw captured on his laptop as I fell asleep.

Davey

…..

P.S.

The following day life returned to normal– and I couldn’t help but smile at the contents of my boot when I did my usual Saturday morning shop at Aldi before Slimming World.

The contents of my bags – and my sustenance for the week cost about the same as my fillet steak at Gauchos, and less than my breakfast at the Ritz.

I was comfortingly back to normal.

And you know what normal is?

Going to group, seeing all my friends, telling them about my week, asking about theirs and standing on the scales.

Yay – still in target, even after stealth macaroons!

Laters internet. Stay frosty…

Davey

Slimming World National Man of the Year 2018 – Part Three (Part one of this story can be found here. Part part two is here).

[lewisswanphotography]

Documentary Photography - Brief 2 - Evaluation.

YOUTH CULTURE (New Slaves) – LEWIS SWAN

For my project, I decided to focus on the theme of “Youth Culture”. I chose to use this as my theme as it’s something I am surrounded by twenty-four seven. This is just a typical lifestyle for the youth, something I don’t bat an eyelid about, it is the norm for my friends and I, but for maybe elders or people located from other areas in England, this might be alien territory. For my project, I wanted to give outsiders an insight into the norm of the youth, something they may have been brought up to look down upon.

 I tried multiple times to go to various locations, such as Southbank Skate Park and House of Vans, to try and get photographs of a variety of different youth groups and the different cultures they display. I found that a lot of the groups of youth at these locations were quite young and didn’t really seem to fit in with the stereotype or culture I set out to portray. The photographs I ended up capturing weren’t very exciting as you can see in the contact sheets. As this was an issue that occurred a few times, I decided to contact a couple of people I knew.  They had friends who lived this type of lifestyle on a regular basis. These people were still strangers to me as I had never met them before, but I thought it would be less awkward situation and would make it be easier for me to create a conversation between me and the strangers.  

As I was photographing strangers, it was quite awkward at first and as you can see from some of the photos that they weren’t really up for being photographed. In quite a few of my photographs you can see that they are quite timid, they’re covering their faces with the Bud Light cans and hats. My subjects asked me to create a scene where their faces were covered as they weren’t comfortable being photographed or having their identities visible, but as the alcohol and other substances started to kick in, they became more photogenic and were up for having fun with the shoot. Some of the youth also came up with ideas and asked me to shoot them in certain ways and certain places. For example the phone booth photographs weren’t planned, we stumbled upon the phone booth on the way back from the park and one of the models asked if I could get a couple shots of him smoking inside it as he thought it looked cool. The lack of lighting helped me create a gloomy and quite dark aesthetic which went along nicely with my idea of portraying the youth in a bad sense, and I ended up using these shots for my final pieces. By using strangers and creating with the strangers I ended up getting quite friendly and even ended up sharing a couple of the beers with the strangers I had just met. This showed how the act of drinking, smoking and getting high works as a social aspect for the youth and create bonds and friendships with strangers who may have never even met before.

I decided to take all my photographs at night as I wanted to create quite a dark ambience around my models. The darkness of the night with the streetlights and quite rough looking park as a backdrop created the dark and gloomy outlook I set out to create. If I had taken the pictures during the day, they wouldn’t have been able to create the gritty everyday scene I wanted to use to display the rough image our elders see our youth as.  The locations where the strangers drank and smoked helped my shoot massively as they were dark and gritty. The phone box photographs stood out for me as there’s a lot of little details that add to the aesthetic. For example, the spider webs at the top of the phone box added to the “dodgy” feel to the photographs. The lack of lighting around the phone box also created a nice silhouette around my model, so I was able to hide his identity as he didn’t want to be recognizable in the photographs.

As all my photographs were taken during the night I decided to take a little clip on flash for my DSLR just to lighten up the portraits but still keep the surroundings dark. So that there was no camera shake I used a speed of 1/250 second, because of this I needed to use a high ISO speed. I needed to use a higher ISO as I was shooting at night and there was a lack of light to get the effect I required. As I wanted a big depth of field I used a high F number (f20) to keep the background and subjects in focus.

I documented my conversations by using a cheap voice recorder I purchased from Amazon. I did this as I thought it would look more professional, but also to have a better sound quality. I was going to edit the voice recordings down to best parts (e.g. my questions and the stranger’s responses) but I really liked the personality and little errors throughout the conversations by both the strangers and myself, it added a little bit more personality into the interviews. By the interviews not being perfect it made the interviews seem more realistic and personal. Then by using a tape deck and a microphone recorded my voice recordings onto cassette tapes. I decided to record on to cassette tapes as I thought it was a different and peculiar way of presenting my findings. I then used the cassette tape cases to display my outcomes. I thought this was a great way of combining my sound recordings and photographs together into one object.

I decided to display my work in the form of a cassette tape as I wanted to create something different to the normal print. A cassette tape is something you can pick up and examine. Just like my idea of displaying the youth in a bad sense of light, the cassette, much like the youth, looks quite broken and damaged from the first look, but as you examine it you find it’s actually quite interesting and has a lot of hidden details such as the photograph inside the cassette hidden behind the tape itself. I decided to use old cases I had found around my home and not buy new cases as I wanted to display the tapes how I displayed the youth in my photographs, in a bad light. The tapes are dusty and cracked, but once you open the cassette cases up their quite interesting and colourful, much like the youth I spoke to. I thought the cassettes also worked well with the documentary brief, as theoretically if you wanted to listen to the interviews you could open up the cases and put the tape into a tape deck to listen to what the youth had to say. Also by using Cassettes I thought that it was a nice way of connecting the youthful ideas (e.g. my prints and the interviews) with the older generation’s technology (e.g. the cassette tape and tape deck). I thought this would connect and bring the two generations together as a lot of the people viewing my work would be youthful and maybe wouldn’t actually know what a cassette tape was. This would strike up a conversation with the youth and their elders hopefully creating a conversation that would help the two generations exchange views.

I decided to title my work “New Slaves”. I did this as I wanted a phrase to capture the way that the youth were using these social interactions as a way of escaping everyday life. “New Slaves” symbolises how we are slaves to the government, we are all raised to do a nine to five job and are tied by the responsibilities society places on us. The government controls everything and everyone. The youth use alcohol and drugs not only to socialise but also to escape the life they are living, the life most aren’t enjoying, as they are stressed from work or even studying. The use of “New Slaves“ exaggerates how the youth are made to do a job they might not want to do or a degree they don’t enjoy, these social interactions act as a way of them escaping being “slaves” to the government.

 If I were to try this project again I would firstly try out more locations for the shoots, it was hard to arrange this shoot as I had to talk to the strangers through a friend. I couldn’t exactly plan a location and a time as I had to arrange everything around where they were and what time they’d be there, a lot of the shoots were spontaneous. I would try locations such as a rubbish dump or an abandoned location such as a factory just to add to the dirty gritty aesthetic I was trying to create around my models. I would also try shooting in the daytime just to see the differences between the moods created, but as I said this would be hard as everything was arranged around where and when the strangers were smoking and drinking. I’d also try experimenting with different means of technology to display my interviews such as maybe a CD or a VHS instead of the cassettes. I would have loved to have recorded all the encounters on a Super 8 and record the clips onto a VHS tape. This would have been very hard as it would have firstly cost a lot to develop the film and then I would have had to wait around for the film to be developed. If I had a longer time scale for another documentary project, this is something I would defiantly consider. Other than this I am quite happy with how my final products turned out. I really like the way I had physical copies of my interviews on my cassettes. It was something physical the audience could listen to.  

[duanecbrooks]

The Return Of Girls Gone Write     Further unmistakable evidence that women, by and large, are the superior writers: the former George W. Bush press secretary and current Fox News host Dana Perino's my-life-with-my-dog-Jasper memoir Let Me Tell You About Jasper...: How My Best Friend Became America's Dog and the large-screen sprite Anna Kendrick's personal/professional memoir Scrappy Little Nobody. These two books are, frankly, flat-out joys to read, the former being a frequently warmhearted, often humorous, always heartfelt telling of her life and experiences with her pet dog Jasper, who, as she convincingly claims, has become the real and true star of the Perino family; the latter being an engaging, sprightly, consistently witty literary self-examination of one of the modern-day American cinema's most succulent and most appealing chicks. To partake of these tomes consecutively, both from beginning to end, is to spend quality time with a pair of delightfully quirky, keenly aware, firmly articulate she-babes who, each in her own way, have a marvelous sense of proportion, a marvelous refusal to see themselves as having any kind of Greatness.             Before getting into just exactly why these superb books are superb, allow me to go into how I first became aware of Kendrick (If you'll remember, Perino first came into my life via her first-rate within-the-George W. Bush-administration memoir And The Good News Is...: Lessons and Advice from the Bright Side). Kendrick caught my attention, as do many other other folks and things these days, via YouTube. Specifically, first, during a compilation of Kathie Lee/Hoda's "best" Today "celebrity moments," wherein, when Kendrick was asked whether or not she'd like to play a game, she facetiously mimicked Nader and replied mock-earnestly: "No! I hate games! I hate fun, I hate laughing!" (Later, she was shown doing some mock-dirty dancing with said girls); second, during a trailer for one of Kendrick's more recent theatrical films, namely Get A Job, the aforementioned trailer's two highlights, for me, being 1) this scene where Kendrick's filmic character, Jillian by name, is sitting on the floor lamenting the fact that she spent almost all of the money she had on a BITCHIIN' pair of shoes, while clad in a pair of equally bangin' black toreador pants that, given her sitting position, magnificently show off her magnificently long, lean legs and her magnificently-proportioned bare feet; and 2) a long shot of Kendrick adorned in a man's white shirt and tie and black high heels and again displaying those stylishly long, lean legs. Thus I was already primed, due to being previously turned on by Kendrick, to favor her tome.             It's here where I'll deal with the highlights of both books, the places where our memoirists especially grab ahold of and, simultaneously, charm and delight us.               .Perino, on the vast network of fans/friends that has developed due to her having Jasper: "It is a bit wonderful that through television and social media, Jasper and I became friends with so many people across the country. I enjoy interacting with my followers and fans, and I really feel that we have modern-day friendships--people I've never met, but that I've come to know over time through short digital interactions. It has widened my circle of people I talk to, and it's deepened my appreciation for people from all walks of life. I now get a chance to communicate with people I wouldn't have ever known; the Internet has given us a way to connect and network that didn't exist before. We're all neighbors now (with the proper amount of fencing to keep things friendly).               "Often this new group of people has cheered me up or warmed my heart just when I needed it. Working in politics and live cable television can be stressful, and switching off at the end of the day isn't always easy. Jasper's following has actually given me a way to set aside the work portion of my day and exchange some messages with my electronic friends, which helps me keep grounded and cheerful."                 .Kendrick, on her brother Mike: "My brother is my hero. I've idolized him since the day I was born and I still do. He's responsible for at least sixty percent of my personality, for better or worse. I'm told that if you're an only child, you grow up thinking you're the center of the universe, and if you have tons of siblings you grow up with a healthy perspective on how small you are in the grand scheme of things. I'd like to think that my brother told me I was a worthless brat often enough that I got the same effect...     "Mike's main interests [when we were kids] were watching Star Wars, playing Magic: The Gathering, and avoiding his annoying little sister. The only time he happily included me was when he wanted to play 'Pro Wrestling Champions,' as I was an ideal partner on which to inflict moderate injury."           .Perino, on Jasper's television debut: "Jasper made his debut on The Five [Perino's Fox News political talk show] as a sleepy puppy at just two months old, and a star was born. I brought him on set and when we were back from commercial break, I showed him off for the camera. He looked right into the lens with his deep blue eyes (a Vizsla [Jasper's breed] is born with blue eyes that eventually turn amber). He snuggled into me. Hearts melted.             "Jasper has tons of personality and is as photogenic as any dog I've known. On Jasper's birthday, my [The Five] producer lets him come on the show and he sits on a chair, for the most part, wearing a bow tie collar, and you would think he knows exactly what he's doing when he looks into the teleprompter. He's certainly better behaved than [Five co-host Greg] Gutfield."             .Kendrick, on her early period as an actor: "Starting in theater gave me a basic work ethic that I may not have gotten if I started in film and television. I worked six days a week, eight shows a week (two shows on Wednesdays and Saturdays, Mondays off). It wasn't so much the schedule--I worked in accordance with child labor laws--it was that I was held accountable for my work.             "Once, during rehearsals, our director was playing with the shape of a musical number that involved most of the cast--which jokes should stay, where they should go, etc. He decided to try reinstituting a small joke I'd had in a previous draft, and we started the number again from the top. I lost where we were in the music and I opened my mouth to say the line, a measure too late. He was already shaking his head and signaling the pianist to stop.             "'Anna just lost a line. Let's go back to how it was before and start again.'"         .Perino, on her period as W.'s press secretary: "[B]ecoming the White House press secretary was the best thing that ever happened to my career. I learned so much--about policy, world affairs, management, and politics.             "But the most important lesson I learned working for President Bush was about character and how to conduct myself under stress and attack. I found out how to be productive despite obstacles, and appreciated how a communicator can help calm a situation, advance a negotiation, or lead to a solution.               "The press secretary is the pinnacle for a public relations professional--it was the opportunity of a lifetime.                 "But having worked in politics for so many years, I'd built up a fairly tough exterior. The daily battles can wear a person out, and in some ways, I became edgier and harder than I'd ever been.         "It was also a lofty position, and the surest way you can lose your way in Washington, D.C., is to let any of that power or prestige go to your head.             "Throughout those years [first dog] Henry kept me from losing sight of what was important in life: appreciation and gratitude for my health and blessings, and the love I shared with [hubby] Peter and our dog."     .Kendrick, on her early life as a struggling actor: "The next pilot season [for television series] was starting up, which meant I was usually sent on one to four auditions a day. I discovered MapQuest and wrote down directions by hand since I didn't have a printer. Between that and my growing knowledge of the city, I was only getting lost, like, six times a day. Pilot season is grim because you're sent in for everything, no matter how wrong you are for it. I kept a mountain of clothes and accessories in my trunk so I could go from the fourteen-year-old goth daughter on a TNT drama to the spoiled twenty-two-year-old receptionist on a workplace comedy. It's obvious now that splitting my focus made it responsible for me to do well on any of them, but I was in no position to turn down auditions.               "How do I describe my personal life during this time? I met funny, interesting people. I went to art galleries downtown, I performed a one-woman show for free on the street corner. Except none of that's true. I spent most of my time trying to find ways to occupy myself without spending money or ingesting calories."                     .Perino, on what she terms Jasper's "protest pee": "When I wrote And the Good News Is... I received a lot of gifts for Jasper, including an embroidered quilt with the Great Seal of the United States. It is beautiful and functional. [Peter and I] take it with us to our friends' homes if we are invited to stay the night, because, well, you try telling Jasper he can't sleep on the bed. With the quilt, we're covered. Literally and figuratively.                   "When we're at our place in South Carolina, leaving him in the house is even more stressful. For a while, whenever we'd go out, we'd come home and find that he'd peed on the floor. As soon as we'd walk in, we'd know something happened, because Jasper would grab a toy as he always does, but instead of frantic joy and butt wagging, his tail would be down and he'd look guilty. It was hard to discipline him because you're supposed to catch them in the act. [Hubby] Peter would get pretty made at Jasper, and I'd feel terrible.                 "'He's so scared to be left alone,' I'd say.           "'No, he's being a brat,' Peter responded."                   .Kendrick, on behavior at showbiz events: "There's a campaign called #AskHerMore, which was started by some thoughtful, intelligent females (Lena Dunham, Reese Witherspoon, Shondra Rimes, etc.). It aims to ensure that when women attend events, they are asked about more than their dresses. Men don't answer questions about their clothes; why should we [women]? A simple and understandable request.                 "However, if people could ask me less, that would be great. I would love it if we could limit my red carpet topics to my favorite colors, what sound a duck makes, and my thoughts on McDonald's All-Day Breakfast--blessing or curse?"                 Also: Nearly the final half of Perino's book consists of various @FiveFanPhotoshops pictures that very humorously show Jasper in a collection of quite colorful poses--Jasper painting a portrait of Perino's former boss, W.; Jasper as a race-car driver; Jasper and Perino involved in the Kentucky Derby with the latter on top of the former, et al. And Kendrick's tome closes with a "Bonus Reading Group Guide," wherein there are "a few questions to help you get the most out of your reading experience."(As an addend, Kendrick wittily 1] apologizes for the "fact" that her "Guide" offers no red meat for those of us who "happen to run a trashy celebrity news blog that requires you to peruse the content of privileged cretins like me"; and 2] gives us permission to "use these questions [in the "Guide"] as a template for creating misleading but juicy headlines." She winds up by, also wittily, summing up what she, so she claims, is conveying: "[F]amous white girls are really fun to be mad at") Among the queries asked in the "Guide":                                        .."Though every page of Scrappy Little Nobody is perfect in every                           way, which part is your favorite? Make a list (it can be a Post-it that                           says, 'Every part is my favorite') and tape it to your chest for the rest                                 of the day."                                        .."When Anna compares Zac Efron to Charles Manson, is she making                                 a joke or trying to warn us about a potential murderous mastermind?"                                .."In the sections about Alexa Chung and Olivia Palermo, the author                           viciously maligns two innocent and very fashionable girls. Is Anna a                           shady, basic bitch, or the shadiest, basic-est bitch?"                                       .."Anna makes a lot of bad decisions. Can you think of a time when                                 you've made a bad decision? Oh wow, really? We're gonna pretend                                   you can't think of a single example? YOU THINK YOU'RE BETTER                             THAN ME?!"             And thus there are the books of Dana Perino and Anna Kendrick, the former being a greatly stylish, consistently witty, always loving paean to a dog who is not only a beloved pet but, as Perino very convincingly limns, one of the most well-known and well-regarded personalities in America (easily, happily, well above and beyond any yammering about "animal rights"); the latter being an engagingly lively, undeniably honest, unrelievedly funny self-portrait of a celebrity gal who is obviously on the sides of life and living, whose unflinchingly upbeat, never-say-die attitude comes through in literally every paragraph.                 In the much-lauded theatrical film The Magic of Belle Isle, the single Mom Charlotte O'Neill (Virginia Madsen), during an evening dinner with her daughters and that evening's guest, the renowned Western novelist Monte Wildhorn (Morgan Freeman), asserted: "I've always felt that a book does something no friend could: Stay quiet when you want to think." To partake of the Perino and Kendrick tomes as they "[s]tay quiet" is to have you "wanting to think" about them--always favorably and, very often, with unsheathed laughter.

[chrisfromorlando]

March 31: Two Magical Days

I don’t remember much about Tuesday other than that I lucked out and got a good character deployment first (albeit the one character in my park whose attendant, an old racist, almost never changes), followed by a deployment to the camera center. The latter, as excited as I was to get it (it was literally a matter of me timing my phone call to base before another photographer bumped out her replacement), was kind of dampered by having to work with one of Those Guys. This one tells inappropriate jokes on stage and flirts with nearly every female CM, and I really do not like him. But thankfully, he actually spent a good portion of his time outside while working at the camera center (.....essentially taking himself out of rotation.....), so I didn’t have to interact with him all that much. It reminded me of when another coworker recently complained about having to work at the camera center with one of my friends because she considers her annoying, and how she basically said it would ruin that assignment for her. At first I thought, nooo, working at the camera center is literally everyone’s deployment of choice! It could never be bad just because of one person! 

I was wrong.

Still... the camera center is set up such that one of the computers that a photographer uses is right next to the merch person, who processes the transactions from the photos bought as well as other purchases like drinks and snacks. Mine was new to our location (and to PhotoPass), so I got to show her how to use our software and tell her some backstage magic/fun facts.

I don’t remember what prompted this, but I made a pledge to her that the two of us would make at least one magical moment that night. We said we’d know when the right moment would come. And so we thought we had found it when a family came up wanting to see their son’s Jedi Training Academy photos, and the son was SO EXCITED about going to the Pirates tutorial the next day. So we asked if they were planning on getting any FastPasses. The mom was like, “Eh, I think we’re just gonna go in tomorrow and hope for the best,” so we wrote her family a Pirates of the Caribbean FastPass with our No Strings Attached booklet, hoping for effusive and enthusiastic thanks.

They were... mildly grateful.

So another hour or so went by and our traffic was low. Like, much lower than usual for that day and time. We were starting to worry that we wouldn’t find another family in need. 

And then this family came in where a mom and her mom both wanted to see their photos. They were particularly fixated on photos they had taken in front of the castle because those were the only photos that had all 7 people in their group, and they couldn’t retake any – some of their party members had already gone home. 

Anyway, after listening to the younger woman try to decide which photos she wanted and how she was going to pay for them, I decided to just ease her anxiety, print out a photo she really liked, and void the receipt. She was VERY grateful. The merch person and I high-fived.

The only thing I didn’t like about Tuesday was that I couldn’t leave the park until close to midnight and I was worried about being able to make it home safely, as well as getting up earlier than usual for my next day’s shift. But obviously, I was fine :) (although FWIW, one of my AirBNB cats decided that it would be a really good idea to come into my room and walk all over my bed – and me – at 2 AM...)

Wednesday, I spent my entire day with princesses – one who was new to me (inasmuch as her movie doesn’t really do anything for me and I haven’t seen it in forever, but whom I quickly grew to like) but whom I spent nearly 8 uninterrupted hours with (other than some mandatory roving, which was... something. I stood in one mildly photogenic location in order to fill my quota, and all of a sudden guests just started appearing around me everywhere, as if out of the woodwork, which was baffling), and another whom I actually only spent 15 minutes with, all told, because I was offered the chance to extend into her location but my equipment wouldn’t work for like 10 minutes straight.

Yesterday I was off for the whole day, which was a serious blessing. I got a ton of stuff done and my friend and I furthered our plans for her to come visit me in a few weeks!

Also... my family is coming next week!!! I almost have the whole week off, but my mom essentially forced me into picking up at least one shift so that they can all see me at work. Thanks to spending almost the entirety of yesterday on my computer, I was able to pick up an almost exclusively princess shift one day next week before someone else claimed it (they go very quickly.) Also, I’m trying to give away my shift tomorrow so that I can do errands (gas, groceries) and just chill before my family arrives on Sunday.

That said, I woke up anxious today, which is not entirely out of the ordinary for me, especially as a cast member, but that’s another story for later. Maybe when I get home. Still, I only have a few minutes left before I have to go, so it’s time to suck it up and just focus on getting through the day. Who knows, maybe I’ll get all indoor non-Mickey assignments today! It never hurts to hope!