#because you DO wear gloves when working with film or photos

[shredsandpatches]

I mean would you want these on your nice clean books?

[lymtw]

Polaroid Camera

Thinking of Toji who buys a Polaroid camera for the sole purpose of capturing you on it. Some of the pictures are candid, like the one he has of you washing dishes. Your sleeves are rolled up as you lean against the kitchen sink. There's very little light shining on you through the window, but your side profile is still visible. You're holding a blue sponge, scrubbing a glass plate clean. Toji loves the domesticity of the image. It was meant to capture the view of his "wife". You're not married yet, but this photo is a preview of what he hopes one day will be a married life with you.

He has non-candid ones as well, like the one he has of you wearing one of his shirts like a dress. He was even able to capture the comfy slippers you wore with dogs all over them. You had just woken up so you had major bed head, and your eyes were slightly puffy and squinted when you looked at the camera lens. Toji remembers how mad you were that he snapped that photo of you. You sluggishly tried to snatch it away, but he held it up in the air where you couldn't reach. You gave up and went back to sleep, but once you fully woke up and saw the picture again, you told Toji to get rid of it because you looked like a hot mess. He lied and told you he cut it up, but really, he keeps it hidden in the glove compartment of his car. He even labeled it with a bold "MY LITTLE GREMLIN" written on the bottom border, beneath the picture. He pulls out the polaroid whenever he's having a rough day. It makes him crack up every time, seeing the way your hair spikes in different directions, from how much you roll around in your sleep. It really puts him in the mindset of thinking that nothing can be so terrible when he gets to wake up to you looking like you've gotten the best sleep of your life.

There are more wholesome ones that he treasures with all his being. One where you're pointing at the enormous waves that crash at the beach. You outshine everything in that picture. The burnt orange sunset that mingles with indigo colored clouds, the foamy, glistening waves that crash onto the sand—they have nothing on you and the happiness that consumes your features as you point at the explosive wave that crashes down a few feet away from you.

There's another one where you're blushing furiously with the cutest shy smile on your face. You're sitting next to him in the passenger seat of his car. Toji had just turned you into mush by bombarding you with sugarcoated words. You clearly remember the way he said "look at my pretty girl..." and "you're so cute, ma". You knew Toji was doing this to rile you up and it was working. You were feeling everything all at once. Your brain was short circuiting, and Toji was enjoying every last second of it. You couldn't even look at him with those blazing cheeks you adorned, and Toji thought it was a perfect picture so he called your name and when you instinctively turned to face him he snapped the picture.

There's one of both of you, where you're keened over in a laughing fit while Toji stares at you with the most lovestruck smile on his face. You had just started dating and nobody in the world was routing for you two, except for Shiu, one of Toji's friends. Shiu third wheeled one night and tagged along to some random bar you wanted to try out. It was supposed to be a date for you and Toji, but thankfully, you didn't have the heart to turn the man away. Shiu took the camera out of Toji's car and it ended up spending ninety percent of the time stuffed in his coat pocket. The perfect moment was hard to spot because Toji seemed so out of character around you all night. There were too many good shots and Shiu almost gave up. He had one shot because he didn't want to catch any backlash from Toji for using up his film, but finally, he looked up from his phone at the perfect moment. Toji was leaning in close to you, saying something into your ear that had you blushing with a growing smile on your face. Shiu always assumes that Toji whispered something dirty because of that sly smirk on his face, but really he just made you laugh so hard. You couldn't sit still on the barstool so you had to stand while clutching your stomach in pain from laughing so much. Toji watched you, sparing a few chuckles himself at your inability to compose yourself. Shiu clicked the button and immediately printed the photo. That picture is one of Toji's most prized possessions. He keeps that one on the dashboard of his car.

Now, Toji has a special collection. One that is hidden from everybody's eyes. Everyone but you because you're the star, as usual, in this special collection. He respects you too much to toss your consent under the rug, so he lets you know ahead of time that whatever happens when the bedroom door shuts will be memorable. With that you expected to occasionally see a few flashes of light during your passionate nights with Toji.

There's one where you're sprawled out on the bed, wearing a bra and some plaid pajama bottoms. You have one hand on your chest, your fingers nestled between your breasts, while your other hand dips into the waistband of your pants. Toji had to snap his fingers so you'd turn your attention to the camera lens because you were staring at him instead. "Over here, pretty girl," he'd say, looking through the viewfinder to center you in the frame. You give the camera a sly little grin, but once you see the flash and you know you've been captured, your gaze returns to him and you give him those eyes. They convey so much love and need for him, and he doesn't have it in him to deny you any longer of his own need for you. You're forever enticing to him, and your level of temptation is unreachable.

He captured your more blissful side in another picture. It definitely wasn't so calm and peaceful before you ended up this way, and Toji never denies it when you stumble upon on this picture during your trips through memory lane. He knows he wasn't gentle in the moments that led up to this picture, but he takes pride in the marks and scratches he left behind on you, making little comments like, "damn, I really tried leaving a scar there, huh?" or "surprised that wasn't permanent" when he sees the deep red lines on your waist and ribs. Every time you look at this picture together, he counts how many marks he left on your back because he loves how flustered you get when it makes you recall that night. The teasing is all worth it when he points at your sleeping face in the picture and tells you you look like a princess. After lots of back and forth about letting him keep a copy of this in his wallet, you caved and told him it was fine as long as his wallet was with him at all times. He became even more protective of his wallet because of this. Now he triple checks and pats his pockets to make sure it's with him anytime he goes anywhere.

There's one that he's very careful with because it has you in a position where you're fully exposed. You're lying on the bed, still fully nude with the most sultry expression on your face. Never mind the fact that Toji had just absolutely railed you and turned you into a mindless puddle on the bed, but you were glowing effortlessly, and Toji had to capture you to make this image eternal. He asked if it was okay to take your picture like this and you just shrugged with a satisfied grin on your face. Your muscles were so tense, you had to stretch your limbs out to bring back a good amount of blood flow. Toji found his camera in time to view you in this unintentional pose. You were brilliant—absolutely stunning. "Just like that, ma. Keep your arms crossed above your head," he instructed. The position made your chest pop more, and your eyes had this twinkle of saintliness to them despite the dark lust emanating from them. Your whole body was in the frame, one of your legs was bent at the knee while the other laid flat on the bed. The mess between your thighs was very much visible, and seeing it through the viewfinder only made Toji's dick come back to life even quicker. You didn't give him a bright and innocent smile, instead you went for the more seductive approach and bit your lip. The flash struck your eyes, and once again, you were a memory on Toji's camera. Toji set the camera aside and climbed right back onto you to continue what was never actually finished.

[faschionism]

‘Oh my God, this is what we needed’: the Zambia style granny who went viral

Sarah Johnson

5–6 minutes

Rainbow and gold coloured wedges, an electric blue wig and a black and hot-pink strapless gown are not what you would expect a grandmother in rural Zambia to wear. But Margret Chola, in her mid 80s, has become an internet sensation and accidental fashion icon after she agreed to swap clothes with her New York-based stylist granddaughter, Diana Kaumba.

Photos of Chola dressed in a red Adidas tracksuit, and wearing strappy high heels paired with blue Adidas socks and gloves, chunky sunglasses, gold chains and a crown first went viral when Kaumba posted them on her Instagram account in April last year.

“People were like, ‘Oh my God, who is this? This is what we needed.’”

A few days later, Kaumba set up an Instagram account for her grandmother, or Mbuya in the Bemba language, titled Legendary Glamma. It has more than 140,000 followers including singer Rihanna, the actor Jennifer Hudson, and the actor and film producer Viola Davis. Chola’s image has featured on the cover of magazines, on the BBC and in other media outlets, is printed on T-shirts, and Kaumba has appeared on TV talkshows.

Kaumba, who spends her time between the US and Zambia, hires a small team, which includes her nephew, to help her style and shoot Chola. She posts a new picture of her grandmother in a different outfit every other week as part of her granny series.

In the background of the photos are scenes from the family farm in the village of Mungule, just north of the Zambian capital, Lusaka.

Kaumba, 42, inherited a love of fashion from her father, a diplomat. When he got a job in New York, she was 20 and moved with him. There, she was exposed to glossy fashion magazines, which served as further inspiration.

While people outside Zambia celebrated Chola and were clamouring for more, the reaction in the southern African country was more critical. “The Zambian response was not positive at first,” remembers Kaumba. “People really judged me and they were laughing at me in Zambia. They asked, ‘Why would you do that [to your grandmother]? Why can’t you just leave her alone?’”

Chola’s view of herself has also changed. “She told me it has given her a second chance at life,” says Kaumba (pictured with Chola, left). “She has something to look forward to because, before, she would wake up with different pains and just talk about that. Now, you see this whole different kind of energy.”

This means a lot to Kaumba, who says Chola, who was not available to speak to the Guardian, has had a difficult life. She was raised by her grandparents, went to school until she was 12 and then for economic reasons was forced to marry a man in his 30s.

She gave birth to six children, started drinking heavily and eventually escaped the marriage. When Chola talks about it now, she becomes teary because of the trauma she went through. She had another son, but he died, aged 16. She now lives with Kaumba’s mother and has become the sole focus of Kaumba’s work when she goes back to Zambia.

[ingravinoveritas]

irvinis replied to your post “Thinking about the photo from tonight, i almost…”

@ingravinoveritas this may be fanon (canon created by fans), but it fits so well into the daddy/boy dynamic. Michael comes to David's performances with his doors wide open, wearing his best sweater (or baring his arms) and giving a standing ovation: THIS IS MY BOY! And David makes his way to Michael’s performances, wrapped in a scarf up to his eyebrows and sighs quietly in delight from an inconspicuous place in the corner.

@irvinis Ohh...this is tickling a very specific part of my brain. Oh, I love this. In the past I didn't usually go for the daddy/boy dynamic with Michael and David (because I've always seen their relationship as one of equals/switches), but this absolutely fits them like a freaking glove.

We have the picture Georgia posted of David all wrapped up exactly like that, so right away that gives us a visual:

And what you've described goes perfectly with what we saw when Michael went to see Macbeth in December--that white-bright moment of Michael gazing up at David from the audience, and David looking right back at him, captured forever on film and in our hearts. That, in contrast with last night, with David quietly going to the show and doing everything to keep the focus on Michael. David waiting until the lights have dimmed and all eyes are on the stage to let out that little sigh, feeling a shiver of unrestrained happiness work its way through his body as he watches, enraptured, as Michael does the thing he does best.

It's also interesting how this potentially ties into Michael not doing the matinee today. I know we could say it's because he's still recovering from being sick (and that would certainly make sense), but I love the thought that Michael sat out so many performances earlier in the week to make sure he had his strength specifically for last night's performance, because he knew David was coming and wanted to do a good job for him.

I could also see David going to Michael's dressing room after (with thanks to @greeneyed-thestral for planting the seed of that lovely idea) and seeing Michael all enthralled with a post-show high from performing, yet still anxious about how things went--worrying if he was on key for the musical number, if he missed any cues. I can see David slowly backing Michael into the mirror without a word, until the lights frame Michael like a halo. He takes off his ball cap and unravels his scarf in an elegant heap on the dresser, revealing himself, both of them now bare and vulnerable. David grasps either side of Michael's face in his hands, thumb tracing over the crow's feet at the side of Michael's eyes, and smiles softly. He kisses Michael, mouths opening just slightly as the kiss deepens and their tongues meet. Kisses him long enough to quiet Michael's mind, to get the overthinking voice inside to stop.

He is quiet, this David. Always making himself smaller to fit in rooms within rooms, hiding away, keeping the peace. Until Michael. Michael, who somehow had the key to every door. Something in David expands, becomes louder, growing to more than his slender frame could seem to handle, and he pours it into that kiss. A mark of this moment, of Michael bathed in light, of the two of them together and David silently saying, we are here. We are together and I am going to take care of you now.

Oh, yes...I could certainly see that happening. Thank you so much for this delicious prompt on a Saturday morning...

[weirdestbooks]

Hawaiian Propaganda (Wattpad | Ao3)

Table of Contents | Prev | Next

Hawaii's interview was written with the help of @aloha-from-angel

Propaganda Poster created in March 1942

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Error Showing Image

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[Image Description: At the top of the image are the words “Remember Pearl Harbor…Work~Fight~Sacrifice!!” and at the bottom of the image are the words “We’ll remember—and by God, you won’t forget!!” The image shows the top part of a globe, without any type of geography, with an image of Hawaiʻi lying down on top of the globe. She is noticeably drawn as white, and there is a large knife in her back. Clutching the glove is a racist caricature of a Japanese soldier. The soldier is very monkey-like in appearance. The right hand of the Japanese soldier is dripping blood and being pulled away from Hawaiʻi by Uncle Sam’s hand. The arm of Uncle Sam is labeled as “130,000,000 United Americans.”]

━─━────༺༻────━─━

Recording of an interview of Hawaiʻi, 9 September 2022. Interviewed by Mahinanuioalii “Mahina” Wakabayashi of the Countryhumans Research Archival Project. Transcribed by Angel Canesta.

[Start Recording]

[Shuffling of Papers]

Interviewer: September 9th, 2022. Interview with the State of Hawaiʻi about the role of Propaganda in the Second World War. Hello Miss Hawaiʻi, my name is Mahina Wakabayashi. It is an honor and a pleasure to be able to meet you face to face.

State of Hawaiʻi: It’s very nice to meet you, too. Wakabayashi. That’s a nice last name. You related to Charlie Boy?

Interviewer: No, Ma’am.

Hawaiʻi: Shame, he’s a good boy. [Long pause.] So what, I don’t get Miss Corbelha to question me about this? I thought Sera would be the questioner, she’d like this kind of information for her editing of that biography she’s making. Anyways, what was the topic again?

Interviewer: She wished to, but unfortunately, Sera’s schedule didn’t allow it. And we are speaking about propaganda during the Second World War, Miss Hawaiʻi.

Hawaiʻi: Right. Oh, f*ck, I was in quite a few of those films and posters, wasn’t I? Don’t remember all of them. Those years were very blurry for me, with the martial law and all fogging up my brain. 

Interviewer: How exactly did martial law affect you? We know very little from first-hand sources what something on that level of almost mind control to be. What was that like?

Hawaiʻi: Sort of like a dream. You vaguely know something’s wrong, but you don’t question it. You watch, and you don’t speak back, and you say, “Yes, Sir, yes, I will let you take photos of me in clothing no man nor woman in the war effort would ever wear.” Those stupid little skirts were the bane of my existence.

Interviewer: I completely understand. And what was it like being “woken up”?

Hawaiʻi: Am I allowed to be blunt on this thing? It was a nightmare to finally have your mind cleared enough to think about just how fu—I mean, messed up it all was, and then you see all these posters, all these propaganda pieces are putting back years of work to be respected. Though I suppose it was never a matter of respect at all. 

[Insert Bullshit Here]

Interviewer: Were you aware of what sort of propaganda was being made, and did you have any say into what was created using your image?

Hawaiʻi: Kuʻuipo, most of it I wasn't aware of at all. They took my likeness and ran with it because they were allowed to do so during a time when I couldn’t say no to anything. It was patriotic to want to protect the poor little territory woman, and it was patriotic for me to be the face of that. Though, I think the one recurring piece that surprised me the most was all the Avenge Pearl Harbor posters that used the same illustration of me sobbing into my hands. Never knew who drew that.

Interviewer: I have seen some of those pamphlets and posters. 

Hawaiʻi: It was to pull on the heartstrings. Make you sympathetic. And by God, it worked. Of course, there were a few that depicted me as strong and capable, mostly used in the islands themselves. 

Interviewer: It sounds like something you really would have hated.

Hawaiʻi: It was. Being completely honest, I would have much rather been on the battlefront in the Philippines. I’d rather have been one of the ones taking them back. Though, Lika was right in benching me, because he knew I’d be reckless. I would have done something stupid. 

Interviewer: But it would have been more respectful to you as the territory than what you did do during the War, wouldn’t it?

Hawaiʻi: In some ways, it would have been. But the homefront needed people. Where would those recaptured territories have gone if not to me? Where would the Polynesian Outliers have gone? Most of the other states or territories available wouldn’t have known what to make of them. Of course, I can whine about being a propaganda piece or someone to pose and take pictures with or someone in the dance halls, but in the end, I was a part of the war effort. No matter how humiliating it is.

Interviewer: That sounds like it. 

Hawaiʻi: It was. Let’s talk about something different. Something relating to the topic. Oh, I had mentioned about the dance halls, didn’t I?

Interviewer: Yes, you did. I don’t understand how that is rela—[Cut off by Hawaiʻi]

Hawaiʻi: Don’t underestimate live people as propaganda. I loved dancing, even the more American dances, especially after the 20s and leading up to the Second World War. I’m rusty on the foxtrot and jitterbug and such. One of the few good things during the war were the dance halls. Oh, lots of haole men there, but there were quite a few cute wāhine as well. I remember learning the men’s side of the dances in hopes there would be less men than women one day and I’d get to play the other side for a moment.

Interviewer: I…

Hawaiʻi: Oh, there was a girl there, around ‘35. She looked a bit like you. Didn’t end up as anything. And then there was Rachel, Rachel was there a lot during the war times. All young girls, a lot of them ended up as Navy wives. Or Navy mistresses. Oh, I could tell you a story from the War about how my friend became the breaking point for a Naval Officer’s messy divorce with his wife in New York.  

Interviewer: While I would love to hear about this, I do think we need to stay on topic. 

Hawaiʻi: Your loss. I’ll tell Sera about it at our next Zoom meeting.

Interviewer: Right. Was the fact that you are—and were—noticeably a Person of Colour during this time affect the propaganda in any way?

Hawaiʻi: Somewhat, depending on what was being portrayed. In more patriotic illustrations to spur the public into the home effort, because “Hawaiʻi is putting her all and so should you!” my eyes were widened, and my lips thinned. My hair was straightened at times, but some liked my wild curls better.

Interviewer: So you were whitewashed for a mainland audience.

Hawaiʻi: Yes, though mostly to get rid of more “Asiatic” characteristics. The Japanese were our enemies during the war, so I couldn’t look Japanese. A third of my population was Japanese. How could I not look like the enemy while still looking like me? And so they needed me to look the part. I still remember the blonde phase.

Interviewer: The what?

Hawaiʻi: I thank God that most of those films are considered lost media in this day and age. There’s around, oh, I don’t know, maybe twenty old films of me with my bleached hair.

Interviewer: Well, out of those twenty or so, there are few propaganda videos available to the public in archives and sites such as YouTube. What was it like to be involved in the making of those films?

Hawaiʻi: I wasn’t exactly a willing actor. At the beginning of the war, a few months after martial law started, I was “suggested” by the military government to work with a propaganda film crew. I was “suggested” to get my hair bleached and “suggested” to allow myself to be used as a face for the home to return to.

Interviewer: I don’t think I can imagine you with blonde hair, Miss Hawaiʻi.

Hawaiʻi: Well, it’s a piece of trivia I don’t tell many people. My face never did look quite right to me after the war, more so than usual. It scared me to see what I’d be like if I was white-passing or even just not as dominantly Asian as I am. My hair was damaged for a long while after. It took me years to get it to look somewhat normal.

Interviewer: That is horrible.

Hawaiʻi: It was. Oh well, what can you do when you’re unable to say no?

Interviewer: The immediate aftermath of the Second World War was an ongoing struggle to become a state. Do you think that any of this propaganda from the war furthered or hindered your efforts?

Hawaiʻi: I don't really know. I think the “Hulahula Girl” craze of the 50s and 60s wasn’t helped by how I was portrayed to the soldiers who were stationed here, and worst off, the Navy. If you know me at all, you know that my history with the United States Navy was less than pleasant for most of my time as an American.

Interviewer: So I have heard. Was the Navy involved at all in the propaganda you were in?

Hawaiʻi: Not that I remember. They could have. They wouldn’t have told me, anyway. I remember there was this one man who was in nearly all the films I was in, sometimes as a lead, sometimes not. He was in the Navy at one point or another, I think. Charles something. He was… He was kind to me during it all. 

Interviewer: That must have been a patch of light for you.

Hawaiʻi: He was kind to me because he thought I was weak because I am a woman. But kindness is kindness, all the same, I suppose. I wonder what became of him. I wonder if he was real.

Interviewer: If he was real? But you remember him; he should have existed, right?

Hawaiʻi: Remember how I said the martial law era was foggy to me? Nothing is exactly concrete, and I have been assured some of the things I remembered didn’t happen. I do hope he was real.

Interviewer: If you would like, after the interview, I can request some of the films we collected for the archive, and we’ll see if we can find and identify him. It would be good to know the identities of the people within the films.

Hawaiʻi: [Her voice softens] That would be lovely. Thank you, Kuuipo.

Interviewer: It’s nothing, Miss Hawaiʻi, don’t worry. What sorts of films were you in?

Hawaiʻi: I’m not someone who’s very knowledgeable about types of films, but I know there was at least one full-length movie, several shorts, and a few… Aue, you know, da kine?

Interviewer: PSAs? Public Service Announcements?

Hawaiʻi: Exactly what I was thinking about. Propaganda was easy to make. I was restricted to background roles for many, and I am happy for that. I am not an actress and never have been one. 

Interviewer: Do you think any of the propaganda was effective?

Hawaiʻi: Of course it was. But we would have made it anyway. [Her voice fills with contempt.] Anything to rally the troops to beat Japan. Anything to bring her to her knees and regret touching the perfect little territory woman. Anything to make soldiers care about a territory that was partially the exact race they hated so much.

Interviewer: Your relationship with the Empire of Japan, it was— [question cut off by Hawaiʻi]

Hawaiʻi: My relationship with that is for another time. When I’m not sober enough to shut you down. Propaganda, right? Any more questions on that?

Interviewer: Sorry for my intrusion, Miss Hawaiʻi. 

Hawaiʻi: It’s nothing. Just… What else do you want to know?

Interviewer: That’s about it, about propaganda. Thank you so much for your participation, Miss Hawaiʻi.

Hawaiʻi: It was my pleasure, Kuuipo. Aloha nui loa. I hope this interview gave you the information you seek. So, do I hit this button?

Interviewer: Oh, I can do it. Don’t worry about it.

[Shuffling]

[Click]

[End Recording]

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Propaganda video starring Hawaiʻi believed to have been made in late 1942. Transcribed by Carmen Nielson.

[Video opens up to a blonde Hawaiʻi sitting at a desk, smiling. It is not a smile that looks fake, but still one that looks wrong.]

Hawaiʻi [Accent is more typical of a Standard American Accent]: Hello, my fellow Americans. While the young boys of the front are undertaking the war, there are many things that you at home can do to help the war effort. One of the most important things you can do to help our boys is buy war bonds and help ensure that they are well-fed and well-supplied. I hope that all of you will do your part in helping with the war and avenging myself for the cowardly attack on myself by the Empire of Japan.

━─━────༺༻────━─━

Propaganda video starring Hawaiʻi believed to have been made in early 1942. Transcribed by Carmen Nielson.

[Video opens up to Hawaiʻi lying in a hospital bed, with bandages wrapped around her arms and head. Her hair is not blonde. Hawaiʻi looks to be in pain, but the expression seems forced]

Hawaiʻi [smiling]: The cowardly attack against me by Japan has left me injured and broken. I am unable to defend myself in my time of need. I ask of you, able-bodied men of America, to join our forces in defending the coward and defending me from any future attack. I plead for your help and your assistance. I know that you, brave men of America, can defeat this threat and bring peace back to my islands.

━─━────༺༻────━─━

Recording of an Interview with America and Caleb, alters of the “US System,” 18 September 2022, Interviewed and Transcribed by Carmen Nielson of the Countryhumans Research Archival Project.

[recording begins]

Interviewer: Hello. It’s nice to meet you. All of you…sorry, I have never met anyone with DID before, and I hope I do not offend anyone.

America: It’s alright, we don’t mind, so long as you aren’t trying to be rude. My name is America, and I am the one currently fronting right now. Caleb is close right now, and we might switch. We’ll be sure to let you know if that does happen. I also might start dissociating during the interview, so if I start doing that, just give us time.

Interviewer: Okay, thank you. Now, onto the subject of today’s interview, World War Two propaganda involving the State of Hawaiʻi.

America: Not my proudest moment. Of course, I was never involved in the making of the propaganda, being busy with war, but…I was the reason why Hawaiʻi even went along with it in the first place, with martial law and my orders for her to stay on her islands and not fight.

Interviewer: Why did you order her to do that?

America [with a sigh]: Because she’s a hothead, because she was friends with Japanese Empire because I didn’t want her to be hurt. It was a whole mix of reasons. I admit I was motivated some by my initial feelings after the attack. Guåhan, my daughter, had been captured by the Japanese Empire, and my son was in the Philippines, a place that all my prewar military plans planned to abandon. I…[America lets out a deep breath] I was losing too many people, and I thought that if I let her fight, she would become lost to me as well. And I can’t stand that.

Interviewer: So you made her stay against her will?

America: Yes, I did. Not everyone agreed with me, and if it wasn’t for the fact that the universe can somehow tell when I’m fronting, I’m pretty sure James would have stopped it.

Interviewer: What? What does that mean?

America: Martial law commands can only be given by two entities. One is obvious: the military government. As long as someone is a part of that government, they can command the personification. The second, if applicable, is the…country in charge? Not sure how to word that. But basically, if the personification is a statehuman like Hawaiʻi, then I, as the country she is a part of, can also command her. It doesn’t just work for states but also any form of subdivision under martial law. That being said, even though we all share the same body, if one of the others is fronting, they can’t command Hawaiʻi. James tried so she could fight, but it didn’t work. It only works when I am fronting. I guess…I guess since I’m the only one here who’s actually the country. It makes sense, but it’s odd that whatever martial law control is, it can tell who’s fronting.

Interviewer: That’s…really interesting.

[America gives a little laugh]

America: It is, yeah. But after I gave Hawaiʻi that order, I just…I ignored her and her land. I got so focused on the war and doing what was needed for that, which was a lot of diplomacy with the other Allies. I never commanded her to do anything else, and the military government wasn’t going to change the commands.

Interviewer: Could they have done that?

America: Of course, they could. They are the true ones that were in control of Hawaiʻi. While I could do a little as the country, martial law, and its control originated with them. They always have more power relating to it.

Interviewer: That’s…worrying for you guys, I bet. 

America: It was, yes. Now, we have gotten a bit off-topic, and while I don’t have much to say about the effect of martial law and propaganda on Hawaiʻi, not stuff that I feel comfortable sharing, Caleb has some things he would like to talk about involving that.

Interviewer: Caleb being on of your alters, correct?

America: Yes. He’s here right now, so I’m going to let him come up front.

[There is a pause of about ten seconds]

Caleb [The accent now being used differs from the Standard American one being used by America and is instead a Georgian accent]: Hello, Ms. Nielsen. My name is Caleb, he/they. I’m a human alter and one of the alters that is closer to Hawaiʻi.

Interviewer: Nice to meet you, Caleb.

Caleb: I know these are meant to be interviews with countryfolk, so I apologize for intrudin’, but I just had to say my part.

Interviewer: You are a part of the same…system as America, so I think you are close enough to count for these interviews. After all, you have spent your entire life sharing a body, and a more human perspective on country things is never a bad thing.

Caleb: Good. Well, I hated the martial law. It changed Wai. It made her less her. It’s hard to explain, I think, but it was like watching her get drained of who she was and replaced by a shitty-ass copy of herself, pardon my French.

Interviewer: What do you mean by that?

Caleb: I mean, her culture got turned into a product, and her the advertisement. She…she was a hothead, and now she wasn’t. She fought for herself, and now she would lie down and let others walk all over her. It was wrong. It wasn’t her. She…she would say she was fine, but then do something so horrifically out of character. She was blonde, for fuck’s sake! I didn’t see it much, as America was ordered away, but what I did see was…disturbing to me.

Interviewer: Why did it affect you so much? What about it made it disturbing?

Caleb: I…spent so much of my life pretending to be America. We had to so we could be normal. So…it…it reminded me of that, except instead of being done out of necessity like it was with America and me, it was done out of a desire to warp Hawaiʻi into a docile little white American. It wasn’t done to protect her or anyone else. It was just done to control her. It’s…it’s horrific that humans can be granted that kind of control over a person.

Interviewer: Do you think this propaganda and martial law changed Hawaiʻi?

Caleb: How could it not? Martial law will always warp the person it’s on. [Caleb sighs] Especially if, after martial law, the social environment wants to enforce wherever change was made. That’s what—

[Caleb cuts himself off suddenly, and there are a few moments of silence]

Interviewer: Caleb?

Caleb: Mmm…sorry. James didn’t want me to talk about that. Sorry. But…uh…it’s hard to get over that. I’m not going to speak for Hawaiʻi…but that changed her and hurt her—a lot. She burned a lot of it, the paper stuff. She destroys it when she can. She doesn’t want to remember. But I can’t seem to forget.

Interviewer: Is there anything else you would like to talk about?

Caleb: Nothing that wouldn’t get us off topic. I…there’s lots to say about Hawaiʻi and how we as a system and as a country have treated her and changed her. I think that it is better to leave it for another time. Or, you know, for that biography that that one woman is doing. 

Interviewer: Well then, thank you for coming, Caleb and America.

Caleb: It was our pleasure.

[recording ends]

━─━────༺༻────━─━

 Propaganda Poster created in March 1942

━─━────────━─━

Error Showing Image

━─━────────━─━

[Image Description: A World War Two Era propaganda poster that says “Remember Pearl Harbor�� at the top and “Buy War Bonds” at the bottom. The image itself consists of a racist caricature of a Japanese man holding out an olive branch that says “Peace” on it. The Japanese man has an image of the Nazi swastika on his right shoulder. In front of the Japanese man is Hawaiʻi, with her hair cut short and colored blonde. She looks white in the image. Behind Hawaiʻi is a large knife labeled “Dec. 7th,” being welded by an arm with sharp fingernails labeled “Jap Treachery.” On the hilt of the knife is the Nazi swastika.]

[neocogent]

Homemade Parodinal Recipe

Makes 150ml developer concentrate for B+W film and paper – enough for many rolls of film, see usage below. Cost: pennies per roll. Typical buy quantities may last a lifetime.

WEAR GLOVES – Caustic Soda burns are nasty! Work outside. It’s easy but be careful.

16 x 500mg tablets paracetamol, crushed (cheapest kind with no added stuff)

20g sodium metabisulphite (ebay, or sold as Camden tablets from brew supply)

19g sodium hydroxide (sold as Caustic soda in hardware stores)

Cooled boiled water (boiling softens and reduces dissolved oxygen), seal while cooling to reduce re-absorption.

1) Dissolve slowly 10g caustic soda in 50ml water. It will get warm. While still warm add the paracetamol, stir and allow to cool (always add soda to water and not the reverse).

2) Dissolve slowly 9g caustic soda in 70ml of water, allow to cool and add metabisulphite.

3) Mix two solutions at room temperature and add water up to 150ml. Decant to a darkened glass bottle that you can exclude air from. I use some well washed and dried discarded small medicine bottles because that’s what was around. Try to have as little air at top as feasible.

4) Allow to 'meld' for at least 72 hours. I gave it a shake now and then, no worries.

There will be crystals that deposit at the bottom of the bottle, those appear to act as oxygen scavengers and should not be removed.

Oh and word of warning - do the mixing in a well ventilated area and nowhere near photo film or paper as sulphur dioxide from camden tablets will fog them. Wear eye and skin protection when mixing, caustic soda burns are nasty. See “Fight Club”... Usage and Dilutions:

You can use like Rodinal developer. The batch you mixed is concentrated. It lasts for decades if well stored. Dilute it with water in various strengths for use. Like Rodinal it gives nice grain with lower ISO films, and pronounced grain, some say ugly even at higher ISO – say 400 and up. Longer development times seem more grainy. You have some control. See: Massive Dev Chart Film Development, Film Developing Database Examples:

1+25, faster, typically ~ 4-5 minutes. eg. 12ml into 300ml water, 150ml batch does 12 rolls of film.

1+50, slightly slower, around ~ 8 minutes but economical. eg. 6ml into 300ml water, gets 25rolls per batch.

1+100, for 60 minute stand development, acts as multi-ISO, grainy. eg. 3ml into 300ml – 50 rolls out of 150ml batch. Yikes.

(pdf printable version available here)

Notes:

This developer is usually made with sodium sulphite but sodium metabisulpite is often more readily available from brew supply shops (and cheaper). From my online reading I believe mixing the latter with sodium hydroxide converts it to the former and that's why it is mixed separately and then combined. In any case I've used the above method and it works fine.

I often fill 5ml syringes with the developer and have on hand for quick and easy measured use, quick mixing and then into film tank. Use old jars for mixing as you don't want this stuff on kitchen food utensils.

The above info was gleened from various online forums and sources. There are youtube videos showing how to make Parodinal as well.

[shiinata-library]

Photography lessons [2/3]

< Chapter 1

Relationships: Ray Levine x fem!Reader

Summary: You ask Ray to teach you how to develop an old camera film because you have a crush on you.

Chapter 2

Second lesson: how to turn a film to a negative? 

A few weeks pass before you plan a new lesson with Ray. Taking good photos takes time and it was something you haven't had for a while, but you released you enjoyed it very much. Maybe it could be your new hobby! So, once you took the 24 shots, you called Ray and he agreed to a new lesson on the Friday following your call. 

Like the last time, you come to his home after work. It’s night and humid since it’s the end of autumn. The coat you choose is just enough to keep you warm, and you almost slipped on wet leaves on the way. What an idea to want to be pretty and wear heels! 

When Ray opens his front door, his smile has nothing to do with the one that does when you come to pick up your nephew. He lets you enter, taking your coat like the last time. After offering you a warm drink, you sit on the same chair from the last time with the old camera in your hands.

 “How did it go?” he asks as he starts making your warm drink. “I was beginning to worry since I hadn't heard from you.”

 “Oh sorry. It’s just, taking good photos was hard. I didn’t want to waste the film,” you say, embarrassed.

 “I already told you not to worry about it. Out of 24, it's impossible not to have one or two good ones,” he jokes. “Ready to turn the film into negatives?”

When he joins you, you both chat about what you took in the photo while you drink. Ray looks interested in what your subjects are. City? Nature? Family? Friends? Boyfriend?

No boyfriend, it seems. Then, Ray explains to you how to recover the film correctly. 

To take the film out of the camera, it has to be in the dark, but it's not like in the films where the character is in a room with a red-light. Ray takes out some equipment and spreads it out on his desk, explaining that you will have to take the film out of the camera without seeing it. You will have to use several tools in a kind of big bag that is totally opaque to light.

After a long but clear explanation, and a test on a non-usable film, you try. It works the second time, and your film is now in a round box as he asked for.

After that, you have to change the film to a negative. Ray explains to you the process, which requires patience and chemistry. You have to use the right volume of chemical products to change the film to negative, and for that, you have to remove your pullover and put gloves on. As Ray removes his red and black shirt to be in a t-shirt, you notice all his tattoos. Obviously, you can’t help but observe them. 

 “Cassie?” you read on his arm in a playful tone. “Lucky girl!”

As you see him avoiding your eyes and focusing on the material, you understand you made a blunder.

 “Not anymore. Hm, put 350mL on that in the beaker,” he says as he gives you a small can of chemical liquid. 

After that, you only talk to say something intelligent or useful. No more personal questions. 

It takes you more than half-hour to finish it, and when you can get out the now called negative, you are so proud of you! You can see all the photos you took on it, one after the other in a long succession of negatives. Ray hooks it on the top of a shelf so that it falls straight down.

 “It’s great! So great! I was worried I didn’t do it correctly! It’s so small but I can see my photos even so. Look, it’s my nephew and my sister!”

Beaming at him, you point him some negatives without touching it. He walks closer to you, laughing at your exaggerated reaction. 

 “Yes, I can see them. I hope they won't be blurry,” he laughed.

 “It’s almost impossible for him to be motionless, so it’s very possible it’s blurry. It won’t be my fault, I paid attention not to move like you told me,” you say, shrugging as you are still looking at the negatives.

Ray looks at it as well, interested in what you photographed. His eyes watch seriously every negative, one by one.

 “Are you looking for something in particular?” you ask with a worried smile. “Or did I do something wrong?”

 “No. It’s perfect,” Ray says with a smile. “It looks interesting. I’m only eager to develop them.”

 “And so am I!” you exclaim. “What is the next step?”

 “The next step is not for tonight. Sadly,” he laughed at your disappointed face. “It’s already after eight, so we will continue next time.”

 “Oh you’re right,” you say, embarrassed as you look at his clock and take your pullover. “I didn't realise how late it was. Do you have something planned? I’m sorry if I made you late?”

Your embarrassed behaviour troubles Ray as well. He didn’t want you to think he wanted you to leave. It’s the opposite, in truth, but he won’t tell you. He hurries to walk to you with his hand raised before him. 

 “No, I have nothing planned. Don’t worry about it. I just wanted to say the next step will be long too, so we should do it another time.”

If you can see him privately once again, you won’t refuse, right?

You try to hide your excessive happiness inside of you, and confirm him with a nod.

After you fix the day for the next lesson, Ray walks with you to the exit door, putting his shirt on. Can you tell him you want to stay a little longer because you enjoy being with him? Of course not, who could say such a thing to a handsome man like him? Maybe his girlfriend – not wife since he doesn’t have a ring – is waiting to join him.

When you see Ray is looking at you attentively, you understand he talked to you but you didn’t listen to him.

 “I’m sorry, what did you say?” you ask him given that you were lost in your thoughts.

 “I was asking if you were hungry. I know a small pub where we can eat something. It’s very simple but the burgers are good and the boss is my friend.”

 “Oh, I’m starving!” you smile, impossible to hide your joy to stay with him longer than you expected.

The way to his friend’s pub is short and you are glad it doesn’t rain. Ray barely steps inside the pub that a voice calls him. A man behind the counter smiles at him as you both walk towards him. His smile grows as he notices you.

 “Who knew that Ray knew such a lovely lady?” he kindly asks.

 “Good evening to you too, Fester,” he laughs. “This is Y/n. She’s my student. Y/n, this is my friend, Fester.”

 “Nice to meet you,” you start, laughing at Ray's introduction. “‘Student’ makes me young again. Ray only teaches me how to use old cameras, and he told me you make good burgers.”

 “The best of the town! Well, nice to meet you Y/n. Sit wherever you want, I will come to you later,” he winks at you while Ray sighs with a smile.

Ray leads you in a quiet corner and you sit on a quite comfortable chair. The place is, as he told you, simple but you are glad to be here with him. It's better than a restaurant where you would have been uncomfortable, right? 

Now sitting in front of you, Ray holds you the menu, a double-sided laminated page. His smile is too big for a place like this, so you can’t help but laugh as you take the menu and look at it.

 “Is it the idea of a burger that makes you smile so much?” you laugh, hidden behind the menu.

With no response from him, you pull your head out of the menu to look at him. He continues to smile and doesn't seem to have heard you. Not wanting to stop him from smiling, you finally stay quiet and look back at the menu.

At some point, Fester joins you with two drinks: a beer and a cocktail. Only with your eyes, he understands your surprise.

 “I don’t know your taste, but I’m sure you will like this one,” Fester says as he puts the drinks on the table. “And the same beer as usual for you, Ray.”

You didn’t want to drink alcohol tonight to enjoy the evening, but now it’s on the table, you can’t refuse it. You smile and thank Fester before he takes your order.

.

It's easier than you might have thought to talk to Ray. Of course, you started talking about photography, and then the topics changed quickly.

Like they said to you, the burger is very good, and you don't feel the dinner pass. Another thing you didn’t pay attention to was Fester serving you the same cocktail several times; you don’t even know how many times he gave you. You think everything is fine until you have to stand up to leave the place. A little wobble and a laugh are enough for Ray to understand that you have drunk too much. He too has had several beers but he seems to be holding his liquor rather well, at least better than you. It’s always too late when you realise you drank too much, and you can’t help but be embarrassed even though Ray helps you with a hand on your back. Oh, and your heels don’t help either.

As you both walk to the counter, you search for your credit card in your bag. Once you find it after a quite long rummage, you hear Fester thanking Ray for his payment. Then, Ray put his hand on your back like earlier, leading you to the exit.

 “Wait, I didn’t pay,” you laugh at Ray’s hurried behaviour. “Even if Fester is your friend, I’m sure he wants to be paid.”

 “He already paid for you both,” Fester says with a smile. “Thank you for coming here, I hope you’ll have a good night!”

 “W-what? You didn’t have to pay for me!” you turn to Ray as he is shyly smiling.

Ray remains silent until you both leave the place. The weather is much colder than earlier and it’s even raining. Outside, you are protected by a small roof but without it, you would be soaked in two seconds.

 “I wanted to invite you to thank you for the lessons,” you sigh. 

 “No need to pay me dinner for that. You already pay me again for that,” he laughs. “You’ll pay next time if you really want to pay.”

Next time? Will there be a next time? Oh, that’s good. Very good!

Lost in your thought, you take a step and if Ray didn’t catch your arm, you would end up on the wet, dirty floor. Tsk. You really drank too much. And those damn heels!

 “I didn’t think that I had drunk so much,” you sigh. “I must look ridiculous.”

Even if you’re embarrassed, you raise your eyes to Ray while he still holds your arm. Oh, he is close! Enough close to notice his eyes are still beautiful. And his lips. Oh, they’re looking so delicious. Are you looking at them for too long? Maybe…

 “I’m sorry. Fester shouldn’t give you as many cocktails. Are you ok?” he asks, honestly worried about you as your eyes come back from his lips to his eyes.

 “Yeah, maybe not tomorrow, but now I’m fine,” you joke, shrugging. “I just have to find a way to go home. And that will be a challenge!”

As you take your arm back, you look at your phone and notice it’s too late for public transport. It almost made you sober. So the only solution is an Uber, and it will cost you an arm and a leg.

You really shouldn't have been drinking…

As you open Uber’s app, Ray clears his throat and looks away, in his flat’s direction.

 “You can stay at my place if you want. I’m used to sleeping on my couch anyway,” he says in an uncertain voice as he looks back at you. “If we walk fast, we shouldn’t be too wet. Or I can pay for your Uber, I feel like it's my fault that you can't go home.”

 “No, it’s me. I'm a grown woman, I should have stopped drinking on my own.”

Frustrated by your own state, you ran your hand in your hair. Of course you can’t accept his offer. You can’t sleep in his home drunk as you were. 

Ray lets you have a moment to decide what you will choose. You don’t see it but he feels very bad about all the cocktails. Of course he hopes you will stay at his place, despite all the mess upstairs because he didn't expect the evening to end like this.

 “Thank you for your offer, but I should go home,” you say as you are ordering an Uber. “Oh, it's more expensive than I thought but it’s ok, I guess! “

Your laugh isn’t enough to stop Ray from blaming himself. He would have paid for the Uber too if you didn’t order it so fast. 

As you finish your order, you notice Ray’s hand on your back. He surely understands that you hardly stand up alone. It’s pathetic…

 ”Do you want to wait for the car at my place?” he tries with a smile. 

 ”Thank you, but the car should be here in 5 minutes. And while I'm thinking about it, thank you again for the lesson and the dinner.”

The quantity of “thank you” you told him makes you laugh. You still feel silly about the end of the night, and you try to hide it by tucking a lock behind your ear. Ray’s hand that you had forgotten again tenses on your back. Afraid you said something wrong, you look up at him.

Oh the darkness of the night looks so good on him…

Ray silently looks at you, his hair falling forward. He knows he shouldn't take advantage of you when you have drunk too much. He knows he should let you go, but you look so cute with your pink cheeks, your pretty outfit, and above all your lovely smile. How could he resist?

Is he leaning towards you or have you had too much to drink? Of course it’s the second option. Oh, wait. Maybe it’s both because he is really close. Close enough to smell his perfume and his hair touch your face!

The vibration of your phone startles you and you look at the screen immediately. Your Uber is here. What is that damn timing?

 ”You should go,” Ray says as he releases you gently.

Still troubled by what could have happened and his now distant behaviour, you only nod and wish him a good night before walking to the Uber under the rain. 

Ray looks at you and leaves only when he is sure you are in the car. Now you aren’t with him, he can’t help but feel empty. Your presence always makes him warmer no matter what the weather is. Then, he remembers the state you were in and he can’t help but feel guilty about it. Everything could be different if… Could anything really have been different? It's not as if you would have agreed to stay with him when you hardly know him anyway.

Due to all his thoughts, Ray enters home soaked. Maybe a shower will do him good, or a drink. Or both.

Chapter 3 >

[fourseasonsfigs]

Stomping Jun

This fig is the spiritual successor to yesterday's Sprinkling of Love Water.

First, let's get the actual name for this fig out of the way! It is "Stepping on Shit Jun". Yeah, this was back when I could still be surprised around fig inspiration.

What could that inspiration possibly be, you might ask? Some filming mishap best swept under the rug (or away, really)? No no, Gong Jun posted on a story on his Weibo:

Yep, there you have it. I was the kind of serious child that never found poop jokes funny at all, but now at my age I find a young Junjun posting this silly and endearing.

The actual footage of Junjun stomp-dancing is this absolutely delightful BTS from Flavour It's Yours:

I really don't know how they didn't get super dizzy! If you can't watch it now, here's a screencap of Junjun dancing:

I love seeming him so happy and laughing! It's great.

I was not actually going to utilize the poop for this figure. That's right, keeping it classy! But then I realized he doesn't stand without it. So, sorry Gong Jun, this is literally on you, buddy.

All poop humor (?!?!) aside, this is a really cute fig. Junjun is happy and blushy and adorable.

You can see the balancing act here. I'm not even entirely sure this is going to work long term...I used a fig sticker, and the fig stickers are remarkably pliable. I could come back to tomorrow to Junjun doing the backbend, just held on by a stretched out fig sticker.

In the meantime though, I'm going to enjoy him being glue-free, just delicately balanced there!

Wow, this pic caught him in the second before he stepping down on the little poop emoji (I can't look at it without mentally tacking on the word emoji). The fig has since settled in to his foot resting on it, but here he is standing up tall.

I had originally thought the one-glove look was an artistic choice from a photo shoot, but he's just actually only wearing one glove in the video - looks like he originally took one off to hold something. I actually really like it in fig form, it's a neat touch!

They really did artfully mold that, didn't they.

His squinched-up laughing eyes and big laughing mouth! I love it. The fig maker did a great job on his expression - the placement of the eyebrows and all the features. Having now seen several figs cancelled because the factory couldn't get the eyes right, I appreciate it when it's well done!

Jeez I'm regretting my decision to put the poop emoji item up front and center.

So. Much. Regret.

The top down view for figs isn't always very interesting, but this one is fun! I also really like how the fig maker did his hair - very swoopy and like the video.

Although these didn't come in a pair and were sold individually, I feel like they're too good not to give you a shot of together! Zhehan's hose will be extremely useful here.

I think now you've seen all these figs except the Wumei one there on the far right. To be posted later!

Material: PVC (and only PVC!)

Fig Count: 286

Scene Count: 22

Rating: Glad we have Zhehan there, is all I can say!

[link back to Master Fig Index for more posts]

[writingquestionsanswered]

Tattoo Shop AU - a quick, practical guide for writers

Guest Post by lebanon-hangover

lebanon-hangover said: this is based on my personal experience with the industry only, so depending on the era and country you are portraying, it may not be 100% accurate for your setting.

Hygiene

It may not be obvious at first glance, but most tattooists are clean freaks. We work with human blood every day, and we get clients from all ages, ethnic and social economic backgrounds, with all sorts of medical conditions.

We usually mop frequently, bleach the sinks, wipe down everything, and use cling film or bags to wrap everything. I mean fucking everything. We also scrub in, and sanitise the area on the person we work on.

Needles are collected in a sharps bin, and handled very carefully. Medical waste goes in yellow bags, and both are collected by a professional service.

Used ink caps may look full, but the ink gets diluted by blood. Like you dip the inky needle into the person, but you also dip the person’s blood into your ink. These are medical waste too.

Cleaning up must be done promptly after the session. Bin everything disposable, put things through the ultrasonic and the autoclave, and sanitise the area. We may take machines apart, but more for maintenance than cleaning, sometimes we swap parts in them too.

We have two sinks, one for hand washing, one for cleaning.

All inks and needles have use by dates.

The internal dynamics of a studio

Depending on the country, some tattoo shops tend to have ties to biker gangs, and some of those internal dynamics and unwritten rules are often present.

There’s a pecking order and it’s dead serious. Basically the longer you’ve been in a shop, the higher ‘rank’ you are, you get the better positioned stations, first pick of walk-ins, etc (Unless the client is asking for someone by name). Regardless of your actual experience in the industry, like if you move into your old apprentice’s shop, they are still senior to you. If the owner or their partner is an artist, obviously they are on top of the chain by default.

We are self employed, but we have a boss. You are only making money if you are working, but you still have set work hours.

We get paid by the clients, and we pay the studio a cut. In return, there are some items provided by them, and some we buy for ourselves. Usually the chairs, tattoo beds, gloves, cleaning products, clip cord covers, masks, aprons, ink caps, vaseline, green soap, and some basic ink is provided by the shop. We buy our own machines, arm rests, stations, pedals, power supplies, clipcords, tips and grips, needles, special colours, stencil fluid…these are a personal preference, and often depend on the artists’ style.

We totally ask to try out each other’s equipment sometimes, or ask for a certain type of needle if we ran out.

The receptionist is usually just one of us, maybe a piercer, but it also can be a hired person in top studios.

The apprentice in the traditional system is often mistreated, and they have to pay for their education, have to be there multiple days a week and don’t make any money. It’s kind of like a tear them down, build them back up again thing to see if they are really serious about the job. Times are slowly changing, but 99% of them will always need a second job. Most of them are working as bar staff.

When you open a new studio, you must visit all the existing local ones and introduce yourself, otherwise you may get a brick through the window. Otherwise there’s not much beef among individual artists, they are often friends, go to conventions together and party after, etc.

The Artists

Tattooing is a fairly physical job, stretching skin is very important. We have to also keep our clients safely still, so we often use positions to pin them down a bit. Sometimes you hit a reflex point on the foot or under a knee, and you don’t want to get kicked. Sometimes you have to pull away super fast, cos they are sneezing, yawning or giggling.

Most tattooists drink a lot of coffee, tea or energy drinks.

Some people are all rounders, some have specific styles, but we recognise each other’s art styles. Sometimes we delegate work to each other, if we think our coworkers style fits the concept better. For example if there’s a person who does script well, we give them those projects.

We don’t like when people come in with designs from other artists. Art theft is frowned upon, and we work best with our own drawings.

Most apprentices practice on their own legs, and sometimes we tattoo each other when it’s quiet. Most people have cover ups, or bad pieces from their early days. The artists’ own tattoos sometimes are in a different style than what they do, but we like to collect ink from friends or colleagues we admire.

In the first 1-2 years one is an apprentice, then junior artist. At 5-8 years of tattooing, you have earned your stripes and are considered an experienced artist.

Conventions are really fun, but can be stressful. You can make good money working at one, and sometimes get awarded for it too. We can also spend a lot at a convention.

Sometimes we poke our fingers by accident, and it’s a scary thing. Good case scenario is just some random dots on your fingers. Let’s not go into the bad case scenario.

We do guest spots sometimes, just to meet new clients, and change it up a bit.

We spend a lot of time drawing up things, and designs are meant to fall on specific muscles, stretch with the skin a certain way, so they are tailored to the body proportions of the client. A good tattoo is also an optical illusion, complimenting the body shape.

Social media presence is like a second job, you need good photos, and you need to market yourself.

Tattoo ink does not wash out, so some stains are inevitable when pouring it out. Those ink bottles get stuck so easily, and we wrestle them a lot. We try to avoid it, but wearing all dark colours is a thing for a reason.

The Clients

Tattooists need to have a good ‘bedside manners’ too. We get nervous or self conscious people, and we are told personal things during long sessions. For example scar coverups and memorial pieces can be very emotional.

We have pretty good poker faces and first aid trainings. People can faint, get shaky, throw up, some have seizures, have b.o., get sweaty, etc the same way as at a blood donation event? It’s no big deal really. We sit them down, give them some water and some sugar, and re-book them if necessary. Most artists keep some wet wipes, mouth wash, deodorant, sweets, maybe even some clean clothes at work, just in case.

If someone comes in with a wild idea for a jobstopper, we would sit down and have a long talk. If they haven’t got many tattoos, we usually try to stir them towards more safe choices, offering them creative ideas. It’s like those jedi mind tricks sometimes.

If someone is undecided, we show them our own hand drawn flash sheets. Once its gone, its gone tho, we don’t use the designs twice.

Pinterest is full of photoshopped fake tattoos, some that won’t even work as real ink. Many people also touch up their work digitally on photos, so some clients have really unrealistic expectations.

We can totally tell if someone is intoxicated or hangover. It thins the blood, and they bleed out the ink, and it’s super annoying. if it’s bad, they will be sent home and rebooked.

Some folks are self conscious about body hair, their size, stretch marks and scars. Chances are, we have seen similar, and we aren’t bothered by it, because it’s work. Surgery scars, scars from accidents, self harm scars, burns, we see it all the time. We shave some really hairy dudes all the time girl, your legs are fine. Seriously. If something makes tattooing you dangerous we will tell you.

Fit, muscular people are harder to tattoo because they are really firm. Its a workout for us.

Everyone gets midnight messages about the aftercare from nervous clients, and drunken booty calls about getting inked right at this second. We have copy paste replies…

We get creeps sometimes. Stalking, weird conversations, tmi info dumps etc.

Other things to include (for fun, or for plot reasons)

We sometimes have those “oh fuck” moments. We all do, but mistakes can be fixed, and we play it cool.

Tattooing takes time. Usually 30 minutes to multiple sessions though years and years.

Healing tattoos takes about 2-4ish weeks, and your characters shouldn’t go roll around in dirt, sunbathe, swim, pick at the scabs. Nasty infections, and messed up tattoos would be the results.

If you have a strong immune system, and you get a lot of work done in one sitting, you may get a brief bit of a temperature. It’s normal, and will go away.

Its a lot easier to get seriously drunk after getting a tattoo. Be careful.

We sometimes draw on each other for practice with our marker pens.

Tattoos are inside the skin, not on top of it. Imagine a low opacity, skin toned layer over the ink, adding to the healed tattoos’ colour. Please stop making your characters skin fully transparent.

Heavy blackwork and palms are done in multiple sessions.

You can’t cover up moles, because if they develop skin cancer, the dermatologist can’t see the signs.

There’s a stereotype about piercers having blacked out sleeves.

Stencil fluid looks just like cum.

You get that annoying itch on your face when you scrubbed in, put on gloves and finally ready to go.

Some artists have a strong preference for coil or rotary machines, and they bicker about it a lot. Coils are louder, more punchy, and more traditional, perfect for lineart. They can be customised, and they last forever. They are also called glorified doorbells by people who prefer rotaries. Rotary machines are smoother, lighter, and often use needles that are pulled back into the cartridges for safety. They are better for shading and delicate line work. Older tattooists often say they are dildo or butt plug shaped, overly delicate and are for “soft millennials” only.

Every artist owns like 5 to 20 machines, and they have specific machine builders they are loyal to.

The “which cable is broken and cutting out” guessing game. Clip cords and pedal cables get worn out easily, and that results in your machine running really jerky.

Walk-in always show up 10 minutes before closing.

We often look quite silly at work. Sleeves rolled up, folks use all sorts of plastic ppe, headlamps, and we tie up our hair. Add couple of purple smears from carbon paper, and we aren’t scary at all.

[mypoisonedvine]

Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x actress!reader (part 3)

(part 1) (part 2) 

series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself.  except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.  

word count: 3k

chapter warnings: mention of past sexual harassment, very mature karaoke (lol), mention of pornography

Day 63 and you still hadn’t talked about it.  He’d actually gotten to know you a lot better over the past two months, even almost confessing his feelings for you with that stupid half-asleep storybook thing he’d done way back when, but you still hadn’t talked about the night you saw him looking in the rearview mirror.

Tonight actually reminded him of that night; this time was a premiere, for a movie you hadn’t actually been in but apparently you were supposed to go anyways?  He didn’t get it but he figured he didn’t need to.  As long as you came back alone this time, he’d be happy.

Of course, when he saw you step out to the car to leave for the venue, he was confident that would be impossible— not that you ever looked bad on a red carpet or anything, but wow… this was different.

“It’s not too slutty, is it?” you asked him nervously, spinning around to show him the back.  Don’t look at her ass don’t look at her ass don’t look at her ass—   

“Just slutty enough,” he responded with a gloved thumbs up.

“Perfect,” you smiled, and he opened the door for you to get in the back.  He took a moment to catch his breath before circling around to the driver’s side.

You actually chatted with him on the way, which was a new thing you two had started doing when he drove you.  He looked forward to your talks a lot— especially the ones where you ranted about whatever was on your mind.  You would usually apologize for rambling but he liked it; and, you were cute when you got really worked up about something, even if he thought it was kind of trivial.

As he pulled up to the red carpet, with cameras flashing and the indistinguishable yelling of reporters and fans, you shot him a look as if you didn’t want to go.

“Everything alright?” he asked.

“Oh, yeah,” you shook your head incredulously, “I just… I wish you would’ve come and seen it.”

He recalled a few weeks back when you offered him a ticket to the premiere showing, but he’d insisted on just sticking to what he knew and letting your assistant have the spare ticket.  “I’ll catch it on Netflix,” he dismissed.

“No, I mean, I wish you were coming with me,” you explained.

Was it hot in here, all of a sudden?  Because his cheeks felt warm.  “Uh, you don’t want me in there.  I always fall asleep in theaters anyways.  Just go have fun and I’ll catch you after.”

“Okay,” you nodded with an adorable little smile.

So he waited, wondering if he should’ve taken you up on it all those weeks ago, but decided he probably made the right call.  He would just embarrass you in a place like that, more than likely, and you had enough to deal with already.  He felt more useful waiting in the wings than being in the spotlight, to use a fittingly-timed theater metaphor.

It was a few hours of him killing time in the car, but he got to relax a little more since the event already had pretty good security on its own.  You’d recommended a book called Flowers for Algernon to him, even lending him your copy for the time being, and so he leaned his seat back and picked up where he’d left off from this morning.  Of course, if he had known that you’d be gone long enough for him to finish, and that the ending was going to make him cry, he probably wouldn’t have read it.  WIth his luck, it was inevitable that he’d be all but sobbing when you texted him to pull the car around.

Wiping his tears and hoping his eyes wouldn’t be too red, he tossed the book into the glovebox and started the engine.  You waved cheerily when you saw him from the entrance, and he attempted to navigate through all the other cars pulling up so he could reach you.  Thankfully, you didn’t have a new friend with you this time— or an old friend.  Jealousy crisis averted, for now.

“How was it?” he asked with a smile as you opened the door and slipped in, unable to hide how happy he was to see you.

“The premiere itself was a lot of fun, I got to see some people I hadn’t seen in ages; the movie, though?  Sort of pretentious,” you admitted as you shut the door and he got the car moving again.  “And way too long!  I could watch movies all day, but that doesn’t mean I want to watch a movie all day!”

“Fair enough,” he laughed.

“What did you do?” you asked innocently.

“I finished your book,” he frowned, trying not to think about it so he wouldn’t get emotional again.  

“Ah, I can tell you’re still a little hurt about it,” you smiled mischievously.  “Should’ve warned you about the ending.”

“No, no,” he disagreed, “it’s not a bad ending just because it’s a sad one… it was a good book.”

You’d already been smiling, but your smile undeniably changed as he watched it in the rearview mirror.  Something softer, something more sensitive.  He liked this one better.  “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

Just in time to interrupt the moment, you saw something on the passing street outside that caught your attention.

“Ooh, karaoke!” you piped up, pressing your face against the inside of the window excitedly.  “Pull over!”

He chuckled at how easily distracted you were, but did as you’d asked.  He barely found time to slow down to a stop before you were opening the door and running out, flashing your ID to get inside.

He groaned as he realized how completely unsafe it was for you to be in a bar… especially now, when you were at your most recognizable and literally still wearing what you’d had on at the premiere.  Thankfully, he managed to pull the car around and park in the closest spot he could find, jogging to join you inside the bar and hoping you hadn’t already made too much of a scene.  His hopes were dashed the moment he pushed through the door, however.

“Is she perverted like me?  Would she go down on you in a theater?” you sang along with the grungy backing track of Alanis Morrisette’s You Oughta Know; your lips were curled into a faux snarl as you stood on stage with your heels in one hand and the microphone in the other.

Bucky’s head fell into his hands, looking around to see hundreds of bar patrons, nearly all of them with their phones out filming you.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Bucky mumbled to himself, hoping you would somehow hear it and take his advice.  Instead, you pantomimed sucking a dick with a cute little wink and everyone cheered.  “Jesus fucking Christ.”

“And I’m here, to remind you,” you continued, jumping around wildly; you looked like you were having the time of your life, honestly.  If he wasn’t so worried about you, he would’ve let himself smile seeing you so happy.

During the bridge, you stole someone’s water off their table and poured a bit on your head, slicking your hair back and shivering from the cold.  There was something about the water dripping down your face, starting to soak your clothes and make your skin glisten...

Bucky glanced around to make sure no one was looking at him before subtly adjusting his jeans.

He watched you sing the entire song, making most of the notes and definitely capturing the anger of the original song— if clearly having a lot more fun with it than most would.  The entire bar cheered when you finished, and you took a moment to take some pictures with people and meet a few fans, which he thought was sweet even if his bodyguard instincts forced him to interrupt after a moment.

“Alright, that’s enough,” he guided you away gently.

“Goodnight!” you waved goodbye to someone who was already buried in her phone and posting the photo you’d taken with her.

“Have a good time?” he asked sarcastically as the two of you began to walk out together.

“Would’ve been better if you hadn’t been glaring at me the whole time,” you smirked.

“I wasn’t glaring, I was just… watching.  You have a good voice, you know.”

You seemed surprised by the compliment.  “Oh.  Thanks.”

“And your stage presence is certainly… energetic,” he grinned.  “I bet your little charade is already trending.”

“I checked, and it is,” you giggled, showing him your phone for a moment where Twitter was open and you were the #7 topic in the United States and climbing.  “And the part where I poured that water on myself is pretty gif-able, don’t you think?”

He raised a brow as he held the back door of the bar open as you slipped back on your heels and walked past him.  “Is that why you did it?  For the reaction?”

“I did it cause it was fun,” you corrected.  “You wouldn’t know anything about that.  And the water thing was just practical, I was getting hot in this dress.”

That didn’t seem to be a problem anymore with the way you shivered in the night air as he walked you through the parking lot.  “Want my jacket?” he offered.

“No,” you frowned, but you eyed the leather with a hungry stare.  He chuckled and took it off, draping it over your shoulders anyways.  “How far is the car?” 

“Uh, a block?  Not much parking this time of night,” he explained.

“Ugh, these heels,” you groaned, “they hurt so bad.  I don’t know if I can make it.”  You began to slip them off but he stopped you.

“You can’t go barefoot out here, god knows what’s on the ground,” he shuddered; what if there was broken glass or something?

“Well, I can’t wear these,” you frowned, “and I probably shouldn’t be walking on asphalt in red bottoms anyway…”

He probably should’ve warned you before he scooped you up into his arms, but it was sort of instinct and he kinda forgot to say anything first.  You squealed a little but then went lax in his grip.

“You’re gonna carry me the whole way?” you asked incredulously.

“It’s only a block,” he shrugged, adjusting you in his arms a bit before starting the walk. 

It got quiet after that, the cool night air rustling the trees and blowing through his hair— frankly, he was a little chilly without his jacket, but it looked better on you anyhow.  The drive home was quiet, too, or at least quieter than usual, but it didn’t feel awkward, necessarily.  It didn’t feel like a lull in the conversation; it felt more like the conversation had just changed from verbal to non-verbal.  You both looked around at the city lights surrounding you on the drive, silent because there was nothing that needed to be said.  It wasn’t nervous, or tense, or anxiety-inducing like most of his interactions with you (or with anyone) could be.

It felt like time spent with an old friend.  He hadn’t known you long enough for that to be accurate, but he was happy to think of you as a new friend.  He just hoped you thought the same.

Arriving at the house, he dropped you off at the front and watched you make a mad dash for the stairs and presumably your bedroom, smiling to himself as he parked the car and came in to follow you.  He saw his jacket tossed onto the couch and your expensive shoes discarded right by the door.  Going upstairs and peeking into your room, he saw your limp form flopped onto the bed, your back exposed from the low cut of the dress.

“You’d better not get comfortable, you’ll kill me if I let you fall asleep with all that makeup on,” he frowned, leaning against the doorway.

"I couldn't fall asleep yet, anyways.  I'm wired."

“Any plans to burn off all that energy?” he pressed.

You groaned a little as you sat up, starting to unclasp all the jewelry on your wrists, around your neck, and on your ears.  “It’ll take me a while to get out of all of this— but not as long as it took me to get into it,” you laughed.  “Then I’m thinking TV and beers.”

“Beers?” he questioned, emphasizing the plural.  “You plannin’ to get toasted right before you go to sleep?”

“No, it’s plural because there’s one beer for me and one beer for you,” you explained with the slightest air of condescension, but he couldn’t really think of it as rude since it was an invitation.

“I don’t want to intrude on your chill evening,” he refuted.

“No, really, you’re not intruding!” you insisted, standing up and setting the jewelry on a nightstand before approaching him and turning to face away from him.  “Will you unzip me please?”

He stammered a little.  “I don’t… see a zipper,” he admitted with a weak voice.

“It’s on the side here, see?” you lifted your arm a bit, and pointed to it.  

Reaching out to touch your zipper was reminiscent of that old boardgame Operation: he needed to touch the zipper and only the zipper, cause if he bumped into anything else nearby, he got the feeling he’d get zapped.

His breath caught a bit as he watched more and more of your skin become exposed, the zipper ending up so low that he could just barely see the top of something lacy around your hips— and he had to stop there because anything more could induce cardiac arrest.  

“Thanks!” you piped up happily, slipping away to your closet to do the rest in private.  “Will you get the beers while I take my makeup off?” you requested through the shut door.

“Sure,’ he replied, turning to leave but realizing he should ask first: “Shiner or Pabst?” 

“Don’t patronize me,” you grumbled, and he laughed because it was a stupid question.  Trodding downstairs, he grabbed the Shiners from the fridge, stopping to check his phone only to see that it had started to automatically send him headlines pertaining to you.

‘Touch of Blood’ star gives impromptu karaoke performance at Queens dive bar!

He laughed at the picture of you onstage, even though he thought it was kind of reductive to describe you by a movie you’d been in so long ago when you had so much great new stuff coming out.  Jumping back up the stairs, beers in hand, he found you makeup-free (aside from some leftover mascara and eyeliner that hadn’t really made it all the way off) and in a robe, laying on the bed as you pointed the remote at your TV.  He thought you looked almost more beautiful like this than you did on the red carpet; of course, objectively, everybody looks better when they’ve been painted to the point of perfection, but he liked the domesticity of this.  When you were casual and relaxed like this, he could almost, almost pretend you were his girlfriend or something.  And not, you know, a global superstar and his employer.

“Beer me,” you requested as he sat down next to you, handing you a bottle and trying to ignore the thorough view of your legs he was getting in that robe.

“Anything good on?” he prompted as he watched you scroll through the channels on the guide.

“Uh, not particularly,” you frowned.  

“They’re showing a game,” he pointed out as you passed the sports channels.

“I’d rather watch this pay-per-view porn,” you rolled your eyes.

He cleared his throat but said nothing because he was confident there was no good response to that.

“Hey, I’m in this!” you beamed, changing the channel quickly.  He nearly had a heart attack until he realized you weren’t scrolling through the porn channels anymore.

He recognized the film instantly as the one of yours that he’d seen the most, for one very embarrassing and slightly sinister reason; looking down to the corner, he saw the HBO logo and realized it wasn’t going to be edited.  His palms got a little clammy but he tried not to worry about it too much.

“Oh, this girl was super nice,” you remembered as you pointed to a character on-screen.  “She had a bigger role but most of it got edited out.”

“That must be a bummer,” he imagined.

“Eh, it happens,” you shrugged.  “Beats getting fired, or recast in the sequel.”

“Have you ever been fired during filming?” he pressed, morbidly curious.

“Once,” you nodded.  “We were only a few days into it so they had no trouble finding somebody new and redoing my scenes.  Just think: I could’ve been a Bond girl if I’d slept with that producer.”

“You— what?!” he squawked.  “You got fired because you wouldn’t have sex with a film exec?”

“I got fired because of ‘creative differences,’” you explained with exaggerated air quotes, “and, unrelatedly, those creative differences surfaced the morning after I refused to get down and dirty with the EP.”

“Jesus,” he shook his head, “that’s… I hope you told someone.”

“Yeah, anonymously.  Somebody will care someday, but not yet.  He’s still too profitable, and not enough people have come forward.”

He glanced over at you, admiring your profile as you kept your eyes on the TV and took a sip of your beer.  When you turned your head and looked back at him, he realized he’d been staring a bit too long.

“What?” you asked, quirking your brow a bit. 

“What?” he repeated.

“You’re staring at me,” you frowned.

“Sorry, I was just… sorry,” he shook his head and looked back ahead.  What he found there wasn’t much less embarrassing, though: he knew all too well that this was the scene right before THE scene.  The scene he’d watched over and over until his arousal overpowered his shame.  The scene that he’d used to try to satisfy his crush on you, but it only made it worse.  The scene that had burrowed into his mind and deepened his obsession even as he fought it with everything he had…

You know, that scene.  And he was about to watch it with you.  

Bucky was completely, entirely, and supremely fucked.

[angelkurenai]

Subtext - Sebastian Stan x Reader

Title: Subtext

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader

Warnings: None

Prompt: Hii, could you do a Sebastian imagine where you're his costar and he has a crush on you, and you're doing a interview together and the interviewer is being very flirty and checking you out and you're oblivious to it.

“You look at some of those suits and wonder: How did they even get in them in the first place? Because it's so intricate, it makes me wonder. About the actors and actresses I mean.” the interviewer added, his eyes mostly on you, but his words going out for the both of you.

“Superheroes have it so much easier all the time.” you said with a sigh “It's such a struggle to get in those suits, not to mention get the makeup on and whatnot.”

“For some it takes up to five hours for the makeup, like Karen, and I remember hearing someone once had an issue on set with the suit while we were filming Civil War and they-” Sebastian paused in thought “Yes, it took about half an hour to get on their suit. Which, by the way, is no easy thing to keep on in the scorching heat of- of the location we were filming in.”

“Oh my gosh, that day-- I still remember. A nightmare. But-” you said, your eyes mostly on Sebastian before you met the interviewer's eyes again “See? And then people wonder why I'm such a fan of the Phoenix force. Like, that thing enters your body and gives you a different outfit without the trouble of having to chance or be careful for your makeup and hair! And it has plenty of different outfits. The moment I saw that I was like: sold! Get me one, where can I get me one?”

Sebastian laughed next to you, shaking his head “I mean she's got a point. Personally speaking, though, I can't say I have to complain. I mostly wear normal clothes and a glove that covers my supposed metal arm. And even when I do have to wear the arm itself it's just the easiest. So yeah, my suit is just that and I certainly have the fastest dress up on set. Plus it's not as uncomfortable as most.”

“A lucky asshole is what he is.” you teased, trying to say with as much seriousness as you could master at that moment before breaking it with a laugh, focusing back on the question “Personally speaking, it is rather time consuming to get into my suit. But given that we've managed to keep it on two pieces I usually wear the upper part with like a pair of shorts and only when I have to film I wear the lower part. It's only then that it gets a bit uncomfortable, but again it's not for like the entire time I'm on set so it's good. Even though the look itself is... tragic, to say the least. I'm still comfy so that's what I care about though.”

“Shorts?” the interviewer's eyebrows shot up in surprise as his eyes did a once over of your body which only made you giggle “I've seen photos and let me tell you, they were far from tragic. You always look amazing, but- Along with half of the suit? Well, that's what I call one heck of a look!”

“Well, it's a lot sillier than it sounds.” you admitted with a laugh, completely oblivious to the way Sebastian's eyes narrowed “Because Scarlett had gotten me those shorts as a gift and they have tiny (Y/S/N) signs in them that earn laughter from my friends when it's topped with the top half of my suit.”

“I assure you I would most certainly not laugh.” the man in front of you said in all honesty “Not at such a sight, believe me. I would be more, like, thanking my lucky stars for being that blessed.”

But despite all the honesty, or maybe because of it too, the way the man look at you was unmistakable. Just as unmistakable as the feeling rising in Sebastian's chest. He clenched his jaw and tried to bite back any words that could so easily pour, especially if the man kept it up, and he knew it would lead to no good. Not being he was technically working but because it wasn't really his place. You were friends, granted the closest of friends and he knew and admitted it (at least to himself) that he had stronger feelings for you but that didn't necessarily mean it went both ways and he couldn't risk what you already had for it. And that itched him more, it frustrated him more and it annoyed him more, more than anything else.

He was annoyed and not just with the interviewer but with himself as well. It was this annoying feeling of wanting to do something when other men looked at you this way, when they were being too friendly and too flirty, an annoying feeling that put him on edge and ready to do something, anything, to make it stop -jealousy Chris had called it with a knowing smile -and each time his mind provided him with the word he tried to deny it as much as he had done that day to Chris. But for how much longer?

His patience, will and all-around strength was seriously tested and he had to clench his fists along with his jaw to hold himself back.

“Aw thank you, you're too sweet to me-” you insisted too oblivious to everything that was happening, unlike Sebastian next to you who highly doubted he was being only sweet to you “But I can take the hard truth: It was silly to say the least. Though, if I am completely honest, my character has had plenty of different suits and variations of the main suit and yet none of those were nearly as good as the shorts Scarlett got me. I also have an over-sized T-shirt that goes with them and there are times I seriously consider turning that into my suit for a movie. Let's add matching socks and boom, best superhero costume ever!” you laughed and Sebastian only forced a chuckle as he noticed the raised eyebrow and look of interest the other man in the chair gave you “Not that I am sure if there is even a single person that would like to see that to be honest.”

“Oh trust me, I gladly volunteer! And I'll be the first one to buy a ticket to that movie!” the man smiled, a smile that could easily be considered one of his most charming ones, no wonder one of those smiles that he used on women at bars that would have them falling or him in seconds if they weren't as oblivious as you at the moment and accompanied by a sulking- no, scratch that, by a glaring and broody man that is. And he went on “Not as if I'm not already one of the first people to get tickets to your every movie anyway.”

“Oh my gosh, stop- I can feel my face heating up!” you grinned, and Sebastian recognized it as one of the most genuine and heartfelt ones you reserved for the people you wanted closer to you “I am seriously doubting you'd want to see it, though, or anyone else. I think the fancy suits are a great factor in drawing in crowds, you know?”

“But I mean, so is good acting, right? And you're undoubtedly one of the best if not the best actress of our era, and I dare anyone to fight me on that cause I and the Oscars got all the facts on this.” and after the easy smile came the really flirty one that was hard to miss, at least to Sebastian; who only shifted in his chair and took a deep breath to calm down and listen the rest of it cause there was more “Plus, I don't know about others, but I love a woman in baggie clothes, in tight clothes or with no clothes at all. Honestly anything that makes her comfortable. However she feels beautiful is what matters. It's not my business what she does with her body too, you know?”

“A catchy line with a lot of subtext, of course he would.” Sebastian thought bitterly.

“Wow I might have a terrible memory but I don't think a man has ever told me that?” you gasped your smile getting bigger “What have you been all this time? I gotta have my friends meet you!”

“Oh just here and totally ready for grabs if you're interested!” he spread his arms wide and grinned, easily earning another laugh from you, before he let them drop and added “Though, to answer your question, you probably haven't been looking in the right place.” the man laughed, again a warm and charming chuckle, that Sebastian didn't doubt could have many women falling for him yet fearing at the same time that you'd be one of them.

The thought, as small and quick as it might have been, when it flashed through his mind, it was greatly disturbing for his entire nerve system. He felt the unpleasant shivers as his back straightened and his muscles tightened. His breathing stuttered as it came out of his lips and he could swear he felt his heart do a scary leap to his throat.

“Sorry, on her part, for not paying attention. Since (Y/n) can't come up with an answer now, I'll speak on her behalf.” Sebastian said with what he hoped looked like a small easy smile and it probably worked because you chuckled.

But before you could open your lips to speak, he beat you at it and this time every hint of a smile had vanished “We were under the impression that this was a professional interview.” he heard a small sharp intake from next to him but he ignored it “Maybe we should have checked before we came in here. Do you do this with every actress that walks in here by the way? Wonder how's that working out for you so far.”

“Seb” you muttered, but once more he ignored you.

“Must suck that I'm still the one she'll be walking out of here with and spending the rest of the day and you'll be left daydreaming about how her bed looks like. I don't need to.” he shrugged “But hey, I can always give you a tip of two for the next one that walks in, how about that?”

“Oh my- How many more minutes are there to this interview again?”

[pitiful-anonymous-vampire]

Hey!!! I hope ur doing okay!

I figured I’d ask you some lost boys questions…I love to hear peoples thoughts on them!

Do you have a favorite boy?

If you had to pick one fashion sense from the boys + Star to wear yourself, which one would you choose?

Do you have a ship amongst the boys you prefer more than others?

What kind of content do you wish there was more of in the fandom?

If you could make a reboot you felt was worthy of the original, what would make it special?

I hope this helps distract you <3

first of all, thank you so much 💗 you are a lifesaver 🥰 what a wonderful distraction! love the questions!

do I have a favourite boy? no, I don’t think so. i love them all 🖤

if I had to pick one fashion sense, I guess I’d pick David? I kinda already dress like him. I feel like my fashion choices align most with him and Sam haha 😆 I’m either wearing leather, dark colours, gloves, boots, etc or crazy bright patterns (most of the time it’s the dark colours and stuff though)

basically me when I’m not wearing dark colours^

favourite ship?

parko! 🥰

what kind of content would I like to see? good question. i love seeing all kinds of content tbh. I love seeing all the fics, headcannons, incorrect quotes, art, edits, jokes, etc. just more content in general, i guess?

i think if I were to make a reboot, there’s a few things I would want for sure. i love the whole aesthetic of the film. So I’d want to do something similar. I love the makeup and costumes so much, and would love to have a similar vibe (maybe a bit more updated though depending on when the reboot would be taking place?) I’d also like to stay as true to the original as possible, just because I love it so much 💗

it would also be super important to me to have actors with good chemistry who work well together. one of my favourite things about the movie is how the characters interact with one another, even those who have very little screen time. it just feels so natural. I’d absolutely want to have a cast that just enjoy the project and work well together (I had some photo examples but tumblr wouldn’t let me post them so whatever)

thank you so much for the distraction 💗 i really appreciate it! you are amazing! thank you 🥰

[chrisevansszn]

THE GAMES WE PLAY‼

This is a story about you and Chris journey after filming your first movie together. Life comes at you fast. 👀

1.2k word count

 

 

                     You and Chris just finishing up shooting a movie together. A little romantic film, and it was time for press tours. The film took six months to film in Atlanta, GA. You flew back home to Texas for a week of rest, and he went back home to Boston. You can Chris developed an amazing friendship during filming. This was your breakout film, and to have the privilege to shoot a movie with Chris Evans! You couldn’t believe it!

 

*Income Facetime from Chris*

 

“Hey Chris”, you answered. You were just sitting in your living room watching a football game on tv. You could hear Dodger bark in the background. “Y/N, what are you up to”, Chris asked. “Just sitting watching some football” “I have never met a woman who loves football the way you do, I swear”. He giggled. “Chris, I watched it all NFL and college football”. “That’s crazy. I just absolutely love that”. You laugh. What do you have going on today? “I just took Dodger to the dog park, and now we are back. Football for me too!” You watch Chris walk to his kitchen, he’s chatting away, and grabs a beer. While filming you and Chris constantly went to bars, or played drinking games at each other’s rental homes, and you could hang with him too! “Let’s take a shot”, you say. He stopped and looked at his screen. “That’s my girl” You both grab a shot of liquor and cheer through the phone. “Scott is calling me. Let me get this call. I can wait to see you Friday in NYC.” “Same, talk to you later”, you say and hang up the phone.

 

The week goes by and you fly out to NYC for interview with Chris. First up, Jimmy Fallon.

 

“As you both know, I was able to see this with early access, and the film is incredible! Your on screen chemistry has me reeled all the way in”, Jimmy says. “Chris, I really notice how touchy feely you were this entire film”. Chris blushes. “Noooooo, were not going to make me look like a creep”, he laughs. “I was just dedicated to the craft. You smile, a smidge embarrassed. You and Chris rubbed and touched all over each other while filming this. You both were just super comfortable with each other. The audience goes wild. “Y/N, how was it shooting those intimate scenes?”, Jimmy asked you. You smile, “Work was really nice.” Jimmy died laughing. Chris looked over at you and gave you one of those smiles. 

 

There was sexual tension between you and Chris, but it wasn’t obvious. It was little moments when you guys would smile at each other, or just look into each other eyes. Who could resist those beautiful blue eyes?

 

You guys had interviews a few more late-night shows, and then it was off to Los Angeles for the premiere. You were so nervous, because this was your very first one! Chris offered for you to stay with him at his LA home. You were only going to be in LA for a few days anyway. You accepted. Chris arrived in LA first, because you look at later flight so you could visit your friend Jessica in NYC. You haven’t seen her in years! You landed in LA at about 7PM, Chris had a car to pick you up from the airport. When you arrived at his house you could believe it. It was absolutely stunning, and huge. Way too big for a bachelor and his dog.

 

The driver opens the door for you, and you see Chris walking outside. “Y/N you made it”, he says. “Hi Chris,”. You run up and give him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you so much for letting me stay for a few days”. “Absolutely, anything for my favorite girl. Plus, I didn’t want to get ready alone”. You blushed, he called you his favorite girl! He grabs your luggage from the drive and both walk in the house. Dodger is lounging on the couch until he sees you. He comes running. “Hi Dodger.” You give him rubs, and he gives you kisses in return. “He loves attention,” Chris says. “Like his daddy”, you blurt out giggling. Chris dies laughing. “Are you hungry?” I made dinner if you are. “Um, yes. When am I not hungry?”

 

Chris made salmon, asparagus, and rice. It looked and smelled amazing. You both sit down to eat and he opens up a bottle of wine.

 

“I am absolutely terrified about the premiere tomorrow. Having everyone’s eyes on me gives me major anxiety”, you say. “Same, it doesn’t really get easy. I get butterflies every time”. You both finish dinner, and you suggest some drinking games. Beer pong up first! Chris sets up the game. It’s his favorite, but he knows you are a beast as well. Let’s go live in Instagram he says. That’s extremely odd. Chris never goes live on IG. “Sure”, you say. He sets up his phone and starts the live. He’s talking shit per the usual.  “Ladies, first” You shoot and miss. “This is going to be cake”, he says. “All you do is talk shit”, you blurt. He shoots and misses. “Chris, what the fuck!”, he hollers. You giggle. You shoot and it goes into a cup. “Ok”, he says and nods his head up and down. You shoot again and make it, and again, and again. He couldn’t believe it. “Y/N, you are kidding me right??”. “Talking all that shit, you knew better. Let end this….KOBE!”, you hollering while shooting into the last cup, and it goes in. Chris made one cup to your ten.

 

You walk up his phone to talk to his live. “See what happens when you talk shit!” Chris comes behind you and picks you up by the waist and moves you from the phone, and then he goes back. “Noooo IG, were having a rematch right now”. He cannot stop laughing. You guys play another round of beer pong, flip cup, and then tic tac toe. You won every game. By that time, it’s around 11PM, not only were you both drinking beer but having shots of vodka all recorded on live. You both say goodnight to the live audience and clean up the mess.

 

“I am going to go take a shower and then lay it down”, you say. “Let me take you to your room”, Chris replies. You follow him down the hall to a guest bedroom. It was stunning, walls were painted grey, its own living area, and the view you can’t even describe.

 

“Here you go, all yours”, Chris says. “Thank you.” “Bathroom is over here, closet if you want to hang your clothes, and a living space.” “I love it.” “If you need anything let me know”. Chris kisses your cheek and walks back down the hall towards his room. “Come on Dodge…bedtime”. You hear him say.  You take a shower and get into bed. It has been a long day and you are tired!

 

It’s the big day!  The premiere of your first movie ever. The anxiety you are feeling can’t be described. Think about all of the fans and flashing lights, my goodness. Your team comes over to prepare your hair and make-up. The guest bathroom is so large everyone can fit. Chris’ team is at the other end of the hall getting him together. The premiere starts at 7PM. You are wearing a black fitted long velvet down, with huge emerald earrings. You dress comes with hand gloves that go up to your elbow, and you are wearing open toed Christian Louboutin heels. Chris is wearing an amazing blue suit with a white undershirt, and brown shoes. Chris walks into your room as you are finishing up. “You look beautiful,”, he says and smiles. You blush. “Thank you, sir, you look amazing as well”. You both head out of his home get into the back of the Cadillac Escalade the company sent. You and Chris made jokes the entire 30-minute ride to the theatre. He pulls out his God-awful iPhone 6 and snaps a couple of pictures of you guys. You finally arrive. There are two men awaiting and open each door for you both to get out and Chris comes around to your side. He grabs your hand and you both walk down the red carpet. The flash from all of the cameras is causing you to barely see. Chris still has your hand, and he is leading the way. There are so many other celebrities on the red carpet, fans are waving and calling your and, you have no idea where to look. You and Chris finally arrive at the first area of red-carpet photos. “Y/N, over here, Y/N over here” is all you can hear as you pose.

 

You look up a Chris, and he looks at you.

 

“You look so fucking sexy, I could fuck you right here on this red carpet”, Chris whispers in your ear.

 

WHAT DID HE JUST FUCKING SAY???

I hope you all enjoy this! 💞💞💞💞💞

[unholyhelbig]

part 2 of the mitchsen journal au? where aubrey feels confused as the beca in the journal is different than the beca she's meeting?

[A/N: Ah, this isn’t exactly what you asked for, and I’ve also lost my touch because I haven’t written Mitchsen in a very long time. Apologies!]

Read the first part here 

Beca Mitchell woke up to the scent of eggs and the sound of bacon pushing grease into a pan. There was an even stream of light moving through the house and she fought the urge to stretch her feet to the edge of the bed, her fingers against the headboard. It would cause more pain than pleasure at that point.

She could feel the cold heat of the bullet wedged against her ribs. Beca always imagined it carving into the bone and creating a secret language that only she and the gunman could understand. This code meant she couldn’t’ do regular stuff like stretch or lift anything over twenty pounds until she got it removed.

But Beca didn’t’ want to see the inside of an OR for a long, long time; Not those neon lights that bred discomfort or the sharp stinging scent of antiseptic. She could see the worry in her doctor’s eyes as they tried to keep the blood inside of her where it belonged.

As long as it didn’t shift, and it hadn’t, she could keep it inside. She could wear it like a battle scar, a reminder- a symbol.

Emily was making breakfast and Beca flinched when the toast popped. She kept her breath silent and hugged her shirt closer to her body. Her roommate hadn’t whipped up anything stronger than cereal for the past four months. There must have been an occasion, or a change in lifestyle- or something that had the girl humming over the stove.

“I have a present for you on the table,” She said, not turning around.

There was a little journal in the center of the mahogany circle, expertly placed between some mats that echoed the Fourth of July, because that was the closest holiday and she let Emily decorate for anything and everything, knowing it brought her simple joy.

“What’s this?” Beca asked, picking up the book, the leather was cool against her palm.

“that is a journal, you know, to write in and stuff.”

Her roommate had a worried smile on her lips as she divided the eggs and set the plates respectively in their claimed seats. They hadn’t eaten a meal together in about a month, but even that wasn’t more substantial than a pizza shared over a cheesy film.

“I figured… but why are you giving it to me?”

She was grateful for the food and the kindness, and the way Emily had been trying to get her out of her shell again after the accident. She had tried, she had always tried, to entertain the idea. The idea of a therapist and a court-appointed lawyer that went after the man who had done this. But she sat quietly in both scheduled meets and nodded along.

“I think it would be a good idea to get your feelings on paper,” She loaded her fork up with steaking potatoes and eggs, “Not saying that you absolutely have to. You can burn it, or you can draw or, I don’t know, I think it would help.”

“I appreciate it, really, I do-“

Emily reached across the table, fingers warm from cooking and eyes warmer still “I want you to be okay, Bec’s. Just give it a shot. For me?”

Beca grabbed a piece of bacon, the heat residual from the pan pressed against her fingertips. She used her other hand to turn the journal around and look at its expert crafting. She supposed it could help, and if not, at least it would humor Emily.

“Thank you,” Beca settled “For breakfast, for this.”

She had an appointment later that day. There was a little annoying reminder in her phone that buzzed at the start of her day and then again an hour before she had to be at the office. It was downtown and took half an hour to walk, only ten minutes to drive, but Beca chose to walk. She always walked to Doctor Mallie’s.

The clinic tried its hardest to be warm, with its hand-painted pictures of the mountains and its smiling receptionist who grabbed her insurance each time before going back to filing her nails with that unsettling scratch. Beca picked up a random magazine each time and waited while her stomach dropped. She never registered the words, or the pictures, for that matter. But she wanted to look like she did.

She would get weighed and be reminded of her height before a cuff was put around her arm and an unfamiliar pressure lasted for a few seconds. And then she was waiting again. The tips of her boots would touch the linoleum and the lights overhead were buzzing. There weren’t any magazines for her to pretend to read here. Nothing but a photo of the inside of the human heart.

“Beca, you look well,” The woman said as she entered the room.

She was older, with salt and pepper hair that reached her shoulders. She forbade the classic white lab coat and went for a nice pink blouse instead. She never went straight into it, she asked her about life and about Emily, and about the diner before asking Beca to take her shirt off so they could get a good look at the bullet.

Her gloved hands were warm and cooking all at once. “It looks good, really, it does. You’ve been healing nicely and your vitals are steady. Blood pressure is a little elevated but I’ll chalk that up to white coat syndrome.”

“Thank you for that,” She started to rebutton her shirt “it’s still okay to keep it in?”

She got a hard look from Doctor Mallie, the steeliest one she could muster. The woman had been in children’s medicine before retiring and picking up a few extra shifts at a local clinic. It still made Beca want to shrink, so she focused her numb fingers on buttoning her shirt.

“You know I advise you to take it out. Anything that’s not naturally supposed to be in the human body should be removed. And before you make a crude joke about that, I’m referring to a chunk of lead.”

Beca sighed, but not too deep because it still pinched and pulled. “Five out of five doctors recommend removal.”

“Then maybe you should listen to one of us five, huh?” Doctor Mallie smiled weakly “Look, Beca, I know that this is important to you, a reminder of what happened. But I think… I think it would be a good idea to take it out. Physically it won’t harm you, but mentally, well, that’s  a bit out of my expertise.”

She nodded and finished with the last button, considering the woman’s point. There was no blood, no russet paste moving against her skin. That feeling of stark coldness as it spread against the tile and she heard the popping of the gun- it had all been momentary.

Maybe she should listen. To Emily, to Doctor Mallie. To anyone but herself, because what did she know?

Beca checked out with the receptionist, who was being cautious with the fresh coat of paint on her nails. She tried not the breathe the chemical scent it, tried even harder to walk the next few blocks to the diner. Her stomach rolling with the thought of food and the memory of something more.

Alice greeted her with a steaming cup of coffee and a broad smile. She would spend hours there, sometimes full days, just watching as customers walked in and out and the pie spinner kept up its slow crawl. Today she pulled out the journal, today she started to write about the appointment and the way Emily had stuck post it’s all over the kitchen to get her to remember. Today she wrote until her hand throbbed and the ink left little black spots on the page.

She did that for days, that April. Sometimes stopping at the office to make sure metal hadn’t soaked into her blood (Mallie explained that to her a few times, and she let herself get stabbed every once in a while) But she didn’t understand at all.

The journal helped, and she spent more time with Emily. She got nearly to the end of the leather-bound book before she had lost it altogether, and a dull ache ate away at her. But Beca didn’t admit that she missed it, or that her thoughts had been compromised by the darkness of the world.

Instead, she ordered a slice of cherry pie from Alice, ran her fingers over the bullet in her ribs, and resounded to the fact that she would start over that she would buy another journal and keep moving forward.

That day, her eyes flicked up each time the door opened. It had started to rain, but the sun still shone oddly through the thin grey clouds. But the scent of the spring day seemed to follow the patron in. She worked her fingers through damp blonde curls and flashed a startling green stare directly at Beca.

Out of all the seats in the small little diner, she chose the one next to her, accepting a cup of coffee and sliding a familiar leather-bound journal across the counter. Beca could feel her heart in her throat. “You uh, you should be mad, but I thought you would want this back. It seems important.”

It was so very important. She took three even sips of coffee, not caring much for the way it bit at her throat. “You got it back to me,”

The woman let out a breath and the floral scent that pulled at her was warming and captivating and Beca smiled into her cup as she took another sip to hide her pleasure in the closeness. Alice watched the interaction with a knowing gaze but when to tend to the only other occupied booth in the place.

“I’m Beca, by the way.” She said.

“Aubrey,” the woman switched into business mode, grabbing her hand in a firm shake “You have quite the story to tell.”

“Nice to meet you, Aubrey” Beca lifted a brow and tapped the cover of the leather book “Want to see a cool scar?”

[commodorecliche]

I don't know... the casting is straight up perfection and the cinematography is of course flawless -its Villeneuve after all- but the costume design? it doesn't feel as futuristic or distinct as it should. Kinda uninspired, kinda generic, kinda Star Wars-y. We can hate on the og movie all we want but at least they managed to make it come across how far into the future it is and how different from us, how foreign and strange their culture should feel to us- all through the costumes.

i mean… frankly, i’m sorry to say this, but i completely disagree with ya there. the costuming for this is pretty…. on point with how it’s described in the book?

the stillsuits are also almost identical to original concepts for the book and the costumes in the 1984 flick:

dune 2020 stillsuit:

dune 1984 stillsuit:

some old dune concept art:

dune book description of the stillsuit design:

“It’s basically a micro-sandwich — a high-efficiency filter and heat-exchange system. The skin-contact layer’s porous. Perspiration passes through it, having cooled the body … near-normal evaporation process. The next two layers … include heat exchange filaments and salt precipitators. Salt’s reclaimed. Motions of the body, especially breathing and some osmotic action provide the pumping force. Reclaimed water circulates to catchpockets from which you draw it through this tube in the clip at your neck… Urine and feces are processed in the thigh pads. In the open desert, you wear this filter across your face, this tube in the nostrils with these plugs to ensure a tight fit. Breathe in through the mouth filter, out through the nose tube. With a Fremen suit in good working order, you won’t lose more than a thimbleful of moisture a day…”

so basically: layered, with catch pockets on it (the slightly bulged areas in both film designs), tubes in the nostrils that are connected to the suit’s water catch pockets, an optional face mask filter for open desert travel, and sealed up to the neck and wrists, with optional gloves. (there is also a cloak in order to keep the stillsuit out of direct sunlight, but that’s mentioned in a different section).

the only things missing from the 1984 stillsuit design is a face mask and the cloak. but 2020′s costume actually looks like it might have a cloak and a face mask attached to it, which is in-line with the book’s costume descriptions. the other photos show this:

as for the other costumes, it’s kinda hard to tell just because this is only a handful of pictures. we see a group photo of house atreides in their formal wear, which was a relatively plain but official dark-colored uniform; this is quite similar in appearance to the 1984 adaption:

we also see a bene gesserit, who does appear to be bald and adorned in a black robe. this is in line with previous adaptations, some of the bene gesserit in the 1984 dune would wear a full black hood and cloak, aside from the more dramatic black outfit we see them in later. so far we’ve only seen this one bene gesserit photo from 2020. we also see Jason Momoa as Duncan - doing what Duncan does best: being handsome and tough.

as for the ‘clunky’ armor: you compared it to star wars, but it’s REALLY important to remember that star wars, the original star wars (including costume design, story design, character elements, etc…) was heavily influenced by the original 1965 Dune novel; George Lucas himself has admitted this. so honestly you can’t really say that the costumes look “star wars-y”, when the entire reason star wars is the way it is and looks the way it looks is because of Dune in the first place.

the costuming doesn’t have to necessarily be a crazy-futuristic-we-all-wear-chrome sort of thing to show how far away this world is from our own. hell, the costumes in the other adaptations weren’t super crazy tbh (except for Feyd, but we havent’ seen his 2020 design yet). but it’s also super important to remember that we don’t want to just believe this world is SUPER FAR APART AND DIFFERENT from our own - because these people are us down the line. they’re still humans, set several thousands of years in the future, we have to connect to them while still understanding that they are far more advanced than us. a good, easy way to do that is to costume them in a way that is different, strange, but still normal enough that a modern human could connect to it.

and not to mention, we haven’t seen anything else so far about this film - there are so many other costumes that are yet to be seen. there are so many character designs we haven’t seen yet: WE HAVEN’T EVEN SEEN THE GUILD NAVIGATORS YET. can you imagine how wild the Guildsman might look in this adaptation? we also haven’t truly seen any of the sets yet. there is a lot of world building left to see. there is a lot left to be revealed that i imagine will very easily make us believe we’re in the year 10,191. judging it as ‘not looking futuristic enough’ based on the very few photos and costumes we have is a bit short-sighted.

personally, i’m very excited about this adaptation. Dune is a notoriously difficult book to adapt, but from what little we’ve seen so far, it looks like it’s going to be pretty good and likely in-line with the book as much as it can be. if there’s any director i trust with Dune, it’s Villeneuve.

[erhiem]

From left: Photo by Gi Naps/Getty Images; Photo by Rose Hartman/Archive Photos/Getty Images; Photo by Victor Virgil/Gamma-Rafo via Getty Images

Today, the House of Jean Paul Gaultier is relaunching its ready-to-wear line after a hiatus of six years. It comes 16 months after fashion’s “Maestro of Mehmed”, as journalist Georgina Howell dubbed her in the early ’90s, took her final bow as the brand’s designer, implying that this iteration of its namesake. will not be designed. Instead, the reins are taken over by a dedicated team from their atelier, with help crafted from the rotating doors of some of the most independent designers working today – Palomo Spain, Ottolinger, Nix Lecourt Mansion, Alan Crosetti and Marvin M’Tumo .

Since starting his own label in 1976, Jean Paul has been instrumental in turning underwear into acceptable outerwear, making sailor fashion sexy and, more generally, paving the way for designers to experiment with diverse and unexpected castings on the runway. have been responsible for. He also dedicated an entire collection – AW97 – to the fight against racism. The collection, titled ‘Fight Racism’, featured graphic prints of young anti-fascists with slogans printed on their chests.

In fact, with such a rich history behind it, and vintage JPGs becoming increasingly collectible since the recent renaissance—partly stemming from the Kardashians’ love of all things net—more thanks to the label’s revival. Couldn’t be the right time- the line to wear from now. Although it is a well-known fact that Jean Paul himself decided to step back from the category in 2014 after a somewhat tumultuous feud with Florence Tetier (graphic designer and co-founder). November MagazineNow serving as the brand’s creative and brand director, Ghar is poised to enter the field again. in an interview with WWDJPG’s general manager, Antón Gégy, described the relaunch as an opportunity to “celebrate Jean Paul Gaultier, its values, its archives and its history”. And what better way to raise the glass to the core of fashion? Horrible Instead look at seven of the most show-stopping moments from its most iconic era, the ’90s. Long live Gaultier!

Photo by Gie Knaeps/Getty Images

Madonna’s Conical Corset from the Blonde Ambition Tour, 1990

Back in 1989, when Jean-Paul Gaultier was told by an assistant that Madonna had told the audience, she was convinced that he was playing a trick with her. They knew how obsessed he was with her, just could not do be true But she soon found herself on the phone to the original queen of pop, making a match in ’90s fashion heaven. Naturally, Madonna already knew what she wanted: to create something for her that surrounded Jean Paul’s signature masculine-feminine crossover. Inspired by his love of the late ‘queen of Paris punk’ Edwij Belmore, Jean Paul conceived a pinstripe suit – the top of ’80s manhood – and a corset with the now famous conical bra, which he designed six years ago on AW84 had started for. /85.

Photo by Victor Virgil/Gamma-Rafo via Getty Images

Eva Herzigova’s cut-out dress, 1992

Thought harnesses were a new thing on the runway? Wrong! After all, you’re not known as a fashionista Horrible Without a sprinkling of kinks here and there, as this look proves well. Presented on JPG’s AW92 runway, this dress, so slick in its fit that clothes can even put on Eva’s body, exemplifies the powerful-yet-playful take on sexuality that serves as a throughline throughout the French designer’s body of work. runs as. Styled with bicep-clad opera gloves and proudly crafting the Czech-Italian supermodel’s bust, there’s a distinctive dome-y tone at play here, though no compromise on the beauty of the silhouette or the quality of the make. It speaks to an ideological throughline that runs through Jean Paul’s work – that no matter who a woman is or wants to be, she always has the right to be chic!

Photo by Pierre Guillaud/AFP via Getty Images

Houndstooth bodysuit inspired by Leigh Bowery, 1991

In an interview with iD in 2018, Jean Paul declared his love for the “London Way”, which means “just creating your own style, your own creativity and being free to do what you want to do”. When he took the idea back to Paris, it wasn’t very popular, but that didn’t stop him from creating his own trademark approach to design. He spent his youth in the 80s at famous London nightclubs such as Blitz and Heaven, where he met performance artist Leigh Bowery. In a nod to Bowery’s influence on fashion, Jean Paul sent down his interpretation of the Leigh Bowery Houndstooth bodysuit—which would later inspire Alexander McQueen for AW09 and Gareth Pugh for SS07.

Photo by Pierre Guillaud/AFP via Getty Images

‘Chic Rabbi’ Collection, 1993

For AW93/94, Jean Paul presented the ‘Chic Rabbi’ collection, inspired by the traditional dress of Hasidic Jews. Models in streamels and black suits danced to the sounds of a violinist who played live on the catwalk. The usual circle of supermodels was there, but Jean Paul also decided to cast someone who visually embodied the cultural context: a man with a big beard. During the ’80s and ’90s, designers were known for their casting choices, pioneering their diversity. “I’m fascinated by strong personalities, people who capture my imagination because they walk well down the street,” Gaultier explained in a 2014 interview. “Showing just one type of girl is a flaw,” he adds, “something I’ve always fought with. One kind of beauty – no. If I show a bigger girl, I’ll always show a younger girl.” will show.” It is now legend that Gaultier once posted an advertisement in a French daily newspaper release Looking for “atypical” models, saying that “facial distortions should not be avoided in application”.

Photo by Arnal/Garcia/Gama-Rafo via Getty Images

Mesh Tattoo Top, 1993

Back in 1993, the trend Declared this prestigious collection as “a startling vision of cross-cultural harmony”. While we’d be inclined to cringe at the somewhat reasonable look now that Jean Paul drove down the runway for the SS94 (which can actually be read as another nod to Leigh Bowery) it certainly Historical perspective. It also marked the debut of Jean Paul’s iconic mesh tops, which were inspired by a tattoo convention he once found himself spinning around – today, they are some of his most sought-after designs. The collection also includes heavy notes of punk, grunge, and 18th century men’s frock coats made in Jodhpur and denim in the typical JPG style. How did he ever find the place for all this?!

Photo by Pierre Vuthe/Sigma/Sigma via Getty Images

Björk!, 1994

Jean Paul’s celebrity friends don’t start and end with Madonna. A year after Björk’s properly titled debut solo album, First entry, Taking the music and fashion worlds by storm, she appeared on the designer’s AW94/95 show, about a magical train that stopped in a small village somewhere high in some mountains. And what, duh?! As you’d expect from JPG, the show was a mish-mash this time in terms of different styles of traditional arctic costume. The models trotted down the snow-covered runway (which almost tripped Kate Moss), decked out in a hell of a lot of fur, silk, wool, and leather.

Photo by Pierre Verdi / AFP via Getty Images

Op-Art Inspired Catsuit, 1995

Two women riding a motorcycle hit them. One of them descends and climbs onto a loft at a DJ booth. Jean Paul’s AW95 ‘Mad Max’ Show Has Started. As he was in the middle of designing the costumes for Luc Besson’s famous film fifth element In which Bruce Willis and Milla Jovovich fight a mysterious cosmic force, they had science-fiction in mind, which means it was technology and cyber-heavy. The bodysuit inspired by Viktor Vasarelli’s op-art paintings became the show’s most memorable aspect—now made super collectible by Kim K and Cardi B and partly responsible for the JPG-madness we’re seeing on Depop these days. Also on the show was Carmen Dell’Orefice, who walked with a live falcon on her arm and sported ornate football armor that lit up like a circuit board. Really prestigious.

Photo by Victor Virgil/Gamma-Rafo via Getty Images

trompe l’oeil torso top, 1995

The next season, Jean Paul took his quest for sci-fi polka dots further, this time translating it into menswear. This time, however, he brought his knack for trompe l’oeil print placement to the table—skills he had previously flexed in the aforementioned Les Tautouzes, and even as early as 1992, when he sculpted the enviable Presented Printed Mesh Top with Toros. The look sported here by Tanel Bedrossiantz is perhaps a little more figurative in its approach, though no less direct is its infrared-style suggestion of what might lie beneath the longtime house muse’s button-down shirt.

Photo by Danielle Simon/Gamma-Rafo via Getty Images

JPG Set Sale, 1998

In a promo video for JPG’s new ready-to-wear line, Bella Hadid is wearing a big red ship on her head. In case you didn’t already know, it debuted at the Haute Couture SS98 show, where it takes us back to the Age of Enlightenment. It was a time of scientific progress, the advent of modern capitalism and of course colonialism. The ‘explorers’ were sailing around the world from Europe, ‘discovering’ new lands for them – a ship serving as a nod to the continent’s shameful past. Some say, however, that it was during the Enlightenment that the fashion we know today – as a form of self-expression that can be accessed by the public – first began to emerge, making the historical period a fashion show. became an ideal subject. .

Photo by Rose Hartman / Archive Photos / Getty Images

Man Himself!, 1992

Sure enough, to write a list of Jean Paul Gaultier’s most iconic looks from his most iconic decade, and not for the man himself. Indeed, as Florence Tetier spoke to her before the label’s launch, “Everybody knows who she is!” whether it’s his striped Whether paired with a pleated black skirt or, as seen here, a denim vest and a punkish tartan kilt, JPG’s personal style has made her one of the most instantly recognizable designers of our time. Plus, there’s a direct connection between what she wore and what we then saw on the runway. While we may have never seen a proper, French Navy-standard Sailor From the designer, “he’s done a lot of stripes and nautical-inspired pieces,” notes Florence. “It’s really nice to see the link between the way he dresses and the way he designs.” we love you, Jean Paul! Follow iD on Instagram and TikTok for more fashion.

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