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ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff · 8 months ago

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Purchase Your Time (John Price x Escort!Reader)

Summary: Captain John Price ventures into unfamiliar territory by going on a blind date... with a sex worker.

AN: I've got a whole universe and timeline about these two in my head. But, instead of putting the pressure of writing a full-on series in chronological order, I want to have some more reader participation and write more of what you want to see!

If you want to suggest a scenario or a question about this universe, hit me up in my inbox or DMs and I'll write something in reply!

This is also an entry to the amazing @glitterypirateduck's writing challenge! I went for the "blind date" prompt with a twist.

Content warning: Sexual references, reader is a sex worker, so minors DNI/18+ only. 5k word count. Reader is gender neutral and no use of Y/N.

You could tell that your client was uneasy, despite the façade of seeming relaxed on his expression. The notches in his broad back beneath that suit jacket were taut like rope. Head on an axis, he was constantly checking the windows. You could see his eyes but no lower down his face as he did so, view blocked by the perspective of the booths. No doubt he’d spied your car by now and was waiting for you to step into the restaurant. Yet still you waited and watched from the seat of your car for anything else that would tip you off to what kind of man you were meeting for dinner. He scrubbed up well for a man wearing a basic navy suit. That photo he sent you – the selfie from an angle that was a classic indicator of a man who seldom opened the front camera – wasn’t a lie. He was very cute.

When you could no longer put off the date in favour of recon, you shot off a message to your friend to confirm your arrival and stepped out of your vehicle.

By the time you arrived at the podium where the hostess greeted you warmly, he was looking at you. Not quite staring, certainly not discourteous, he seemed more intrigued. There wasn’t much doubt as to why.

The hostess guided you over to the booth. Fun choice, since it would just be the two of you. He likely wanted to ensure no one would eavesdrop or be spotted by someone he knew. Many of your clients were the exact same.

“John Price?” You inquired, already knowing the answer.

“Yes,” He was already scooting towards the end of the cushioned seat – something else your clients didn’t consider. There was no graceful way to enter and exit a booth.

Once he was on his feet, you offered your hand to him and your name. “Pleasure to meet you.”

Worn and warm skin enclosed your hand, and immediately you noted the lack of a wedding ring. So he was either single or had the peace of mind to remove it prior to your meeting. Your brief handshake allowed you to take in the uncommon style of his facial hair, his close-lipped smile, the crinkles by his eyes that you could now tell were blue, and it all added to a beautiful portrait of a man you would be happy to entertain. Not that you were shallow enough to deny a potential client based on looks, but you were certainly enjoying the benefits of this man being a delight to look at.

“Can I get you anything?” John asked, looking once between yourself and the waitress who’d guided you to the table.

Ice cubes in his own drink were shrinking into the amber swirls of the crystal tumbler. You gave her your own order before you tucked yourself beside him, enough distance that you could reach out and touch his bicep in an act of reassurance should he need it. By the time you were comfortable, the appropriate time for the wait-staff to be out of earshot had elapsed, and you began your lackadaisical interrogation.

“How are you?”

“I’m well, yes. Thank you. Yourself?”

“Can’t complain.” Your hands folded on your lap as you twisted to face him a bit more openly,“So, the purpose of us meeting today is to see if this is something you want to pursue with me, if we suit each other. Nothing is going to happen today, and not until we’re both certain that this arrangement is going to be beneficial. I take it this is your first time doing something like this.”

Already, you’d made him smile. Not out of nerves, he’d shown no usual signs as such. It wasn’t with a hunger that couldn’t be sated by anything on the menu. No, this man was feeling some relief, the corners of his mouth creasing and quickly disappearing. You hoped it wasn’t triggered by some kind of saviour complex, preparing to get you out of “this lifestyle” – you’d find out sooner or later if so.

“Am I that easy to read?” John asked before sipping his drink.

“Perhaps. Am I right?”

“You are,” He admitted, though it wasn’t a self-conscious confession, “This is… completely new to me.”

“That’s why I like to discuss our options first. It irons out any wrinkles, soothes any first-time nerves. Plus you seem like the kind of man who can appreciate being as prepared as possible.”

“I take pride in it.” Ah, a large hint of his perceived worth.

Your drink arrived at the table, your fingertips delicately leaving prints in the condensation of the glass. As you turned back to John after thanking the waitress, you caught him staring at your thighs. You pretended you hadn’t so as not to dissuade him. This allowed him to collect his own drink and raise it close to you.

You both gave cheers to your meeting, glasses tapping together in a clear single note that sang until your lips pursed against the rim.

“Tell me about yourself then, John.”

In that deep gravel his register rested in, John spoke about the unpredictability of his work-life. Nothing in actual detail was given about what he did, but you gathered it was high intensity, high risk, high reward. Regardless of the wall of cement he was putting up with his vague details, the pride in his work showed through. You stored up all this knowledge to note down on revision cards later. Just a little something so that you could remember what was important to your potential client.

The third time it happened, you decided to track how often he touched his Windsor knot, and it didn’t take long to figure out that it wasn’t a tell of his lying. Otherwise, he would’ve told you more details - fabricated. Clearly, this man’s occupation was not a CEO of any kind; he worked without a suit (enough to not be used to it) and without visible security guards to check your pockets.

“Why don’t you take that off?” You extended your hand to touch the space on the table between you two, “It seems to be bothering you. I want you comfortable, John.”

As if he’d been waiting for permission, John Price ripped off the tie (it wasn’t a clip on) and stuffed it in his suit pocket, undoing his top button for good measure.

“Not the biggest fan of them, if I’m honest.” Double whammy: he’d confirmed your theory and revealed a few dark hairs on his chest in one go.

“I like honesty,” You replied. That seemed to spark something in his eyes.

“I can’t always be completely honest. My job doesn’t allow for it, or value it, mind.”

“I could tell.”

“But I will be transparent – as much as I can be – about when I’ll be away, how long that’ll be for. I think that’s only fair to you.”

You agreed just as your waitress returned to take your food order. Thank God John didn’t try to order for you. As per your own personal guidelines, you let him go first, matching your order with the price of his own. While passing over the menu, he asked about you with the self-deprecating comment that you were probably sick of hearing about him. You gave your standard issue reassurance before meeting him with similar defences that he would likely recognise: very little given away in terms of personal details but all reliable information that would help.

Concluding your latest hobby – an acceptable one for small talk - you asked. “What do you like to do with your downtime then?”

John blinked at you twice, “I watch football.”

“What team?”

“Liverpool. You?”

“Never played, never watched.”

“Well, I’m going to have to do something about that,” and he smiled.

At last, he was cracking jokes. You basked in the joy of getting him to loosen up – a challenge, unlike some men who came out the gate, blasting misogynistic quips. At least that came with the favour of being about to ditch their company as soon as you were safe to do so. This was not the case with John, despite the several times now you’d spied him catching glimpses at your legs.

Another surprise arrived just after your food was served. You’d planned to begin edging towards the real reason most of your clients contacted you in the first place. However, John beat you to the punch after you’d shared the typical services you offered.

“And you’d be willing to…” He seemed to struggle with his words, though he could blame it on a tough bit of the steak if he wanted to.

You didn’t give him the easy way out, offering instead a raised eyebrow you’re your glass, “Yes?”

Realising you were gonna make him say it, John put on a sheepish smile, laughing at his own awkwardness before asking with a little more confidence, “Have sex?”

“If that’s something you wanted. Is it?”

His Adam’s apple gulped down a morsel from his fork – which remained poised in place the moment his lips touched the silver tines. There was a smouldering confidence hiding behind his eyes. You thought about why he might pretend to be nervous and act as such when he realised you caught him.

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t interested.”

This is key to your vetting process. If your professionalism wasn’t reflected back by the potential client, too lost in their horny desperate disposition to consider boundaries, then they were struck from your list and forwarded to your friends so they could avoid them too. Handsome ones tended to throw the biggest tantrums over this. They wielded their wealth or insisted you not “spoil” the mood with talks of hard limits.

You maintained your composure, and, now that he’d gotten over that first hurdle of awkwardness, John resumed his own. You could tell, by the way his pupils blew out and his lips parted, he was definitely hooked. Naturally, you didn’t feel his polished shoe creeping closer to yours though. He’d never come across as that kind of man. Keeping you at that distance with his walls up meant discussing your hard limits and no-go’s was less awkward than it had been for other potential clients. Still, you sought to knock him off his balance again to see what he might do.

“Is it mainly sex that you’re seeking?” You asked as casually as you always did.

John’s head jerked to face you head on in mild but abject shock, “No. No, it’s not.”

“It’s ok if you are,” You said, still smiling calmingly.

Waiting for his reply, you watched John hover his drink in front of his lips before the last droplets slid down his throat.

Swallowing again, John gave his reasoning, “As I’m sure you’ve gathered, my job makes it difficult to maintain a relationship. I’m not able to… provide stability or consistency a lot of the time.”

Nodding sympathetically, you said, “I can imagine.”

“Also, there are… certain measures I’d want you to take for when we meet that aren’t really attractive to anyone, let alone a long-term partner.”

“That must be difficult for you.” You slipped your hand over his that was planted firmly on the table, feeling it tense then slack beneath your touch. Easily, you could empathise with the fact that he wanted to replicate the kind of life he couldn’t have. “Tell me about these measures. I’ve a few of my own.”

“You don’t tell anyone my name. You need to make sure you’re not being followed. If you are, tell me. Do you have your own driver?”

“It was a cab today.”

“I’d like to order your cars from now on.”

“Awfully protective of me already.”

Your blithe smile cut off at John’s reply, “Those are my terms and they’re necessary if I’m going to be using your services.”

There was not an inch of room in that statement for a joke. If you were naïve, you’d say he was taking this too seriously. But the balance you’d found within John and the tidbits of his life that he’d laid out for you sounded the alarm that these precautions might just keep you alive. Your job was also a precarious one; adding another layer on top of it might be beyond your comfort levels.

Then John asked you, with the same earnestness, “What about your safety measures?”

His question checked a hidden box in your head.

“Mine is that I’m available to be in contact with a colleague at all times. They’ll check in regularly to keep me safe when we’re together. I’ll tell them where and when we’re meeting and for how long.”

John nodded along, mirroring your body language as you leant just a little closer and continued:

“I also have a policy on mandatory aftercare for myself and my clients - so you. If this is going to work, we need to take care of each other and that courtesy extends until we’ve parted ways.”

“I understand.”

“And do you accept them?”

“I do,” and John lowered his voice a tad more as he implored for your answer “Do you accept mine?”

Your thumb rubbed over the hairs on the back of his hand once more before releasing him, “I do. I’ll add your terms to our contract and we can discuss any further details once it’s drafted.”

John raised his eyebrows, “Contract?”

“Of course,” You said, a hint of coyness slipping into the professionality, “Get it in writing, make it official and keep us both protected.”

“So that means you’d let me see you again?” The corner of John’s mouth betrayed him as it struggled not to smile.

“I would, John, I really would.”

With that decided, the pair of you clinked your newly topped-up drinks together.

Though you both decided against pudding, you stayed for another half an hour after your plates were cleared and escorted back to the kitchen. Of course John paid the bill too, left a tip, helped you into your coat and all, whilst you ordered a new cab to take you home – you insisted. John may want precautions.

“I’ll send you my details tonight so that we can arrange to get the contract drawn up and signed. Then the ball’s in your park to arrange our next meeting,” You adjusted your coat collar before cupping his elbow innocuously. “Thank you for dinner, John.”

“Thank you for meeting me,” He said

“My pleasure.” And, just as you were about to close the door, you added, “Look forward to hearing from you.”

-------------

While he did get back to you within the minute you sent across your further details, and even faster in drawing up and signing your contract , it would take John Price a month to request an official meeting.

“I’d like to book us a room and spend some time together.” That was what his newest message said.

Perhaps he’d been taken away by that busy, busy schedule. Perhaps he was just shy. Despite being able to read his surface level emotions, you found the man was like a safe inside a vault inside a sealed bunker when texting you. It was when you got this text that you realised everything you’d learnt on your date was likely a deliberate choice from John. Rehearsed and ready, just like you.

“Would you like me to stay the night?” You replied.

Unlike his previous messages, John took some time to respond with quite a short message: “Yes please.”

“Any requests for what you’d like me to wear?” You asked once he’d sent you the date and location.

You managed to complete a swift clean of your kitchen and make yourself a drink by the time you received your next text.

“Something that makes you feel good.”

Not a common request.

Even so, on the night of, you took extensive measures of preparation. Your outfit, to the untrained eye (so men), would seem like you’d just thrown on an outfit and effortlessly looked ethereal – and it was still something you picked based on what you thought John would like. Trousers and shirt cuddled your skin, neatly ironed even though it was likely to end up creased on a bedroom floor within the next hour.

He had sent two cars to pick you up and an encrypted, preplanned journey. One vehicle dropped you off at a random location that was noted with a giant red pin on the map; the second scooped you up precisely four minutes later. Nothing new, you’d been a mistress before and that came with similar routines.

A key was awaiting for you at the front desk once you had been delivered and the code word was shared.

You had the decency to knock three times before you slid the key card into the slot. Despite that minimal warning, the door jerked open with John at the handle.

“Hi,” He said. Hair damp and sticking up at the back like he’d used his hands instead of a brush to collect it into some order, he’d clearly just finished trimming his beard – based on the occasional trimming on his white t-shirt. Jogging bottoms hid his lower half.

“Hello,” You smiled.

John looked you in the eye, then adjusted his gaze to look down at your outfit. Perhaps he didn’t like that you had hidden your legs beneath flared trouser because he stepped aside quickly and held the door for you to enter.

It was a cosy suite, boasting a quiet immodest comfort. Poncy art still hung on the walls, and it had all the hallmarks of a usual hotel room – little kettle, stack of teabags and coffee – were hidden behind a sliding cabinet door. You saw a duffel bag poking out the entrance of the wardrobe. Hanging above it across the railing were several dry cleaning bags. Had he even gone to his home yet?

“How’ve you been, John?”

“I’m good. How are you?”

“Well, thank you.” And you dropped your overstay bag beside his.

Followed your agreement to the letter, handing you a wad of cash that he didn’t mind you counting upfront. The total sum left you expecting this would probably be an eventful evening and you tucked it into your coat pocket for safe keeping.

“What would you like to do, John?” You pulled off your coat to hang it up.

When you returned to face him, you found John unable to break away from looking at your waistband, specifically the side of your shirt that you’d made the conscious choice to leave untucked. Whatever, you’d seen it somewhere and it looked good on the model so you tried it. The doubt that it just made you look a bit lazy left your head as John pinched the hem of it, his thumb rubbing the material.

“Could you…” John sighed as soon as he paused. His voice was still that low and sustained register. You wondered what he might sound like while you were taking care of him.

He’d said, when adding the fine print to your contract, that he was ok with you initiating touch. So, you were a tad surprised (though you hid it well) when he seemed unnerved at your hand finding purchase over his heart, fingers tracing over a large fold line in the fabric, that had been ironed in from a nap presumably – he seemed the type to know how to fold a shirt properly.

Your voice dropped to a hushed timbre, as if you were letting him in on some workplace gossip around the water cooler, enticing him to join you in this little game, “You can tell me, John. What do you want to do?”

How John’s eyelids twitched, you could tell it was working. A moth to a flame, you drew him in, but you saw how John’s frustration brewed in his tight jaw over how his words didn’t seem to want to climb out of his mouth. The first hurdle was always the toughest; once he got over this embarrassment, he’d be fine. You just had to coax him a little further, lead him closer to the water until he took the initiative to drink it.

Measured breathing took hold of his body again and he looked you directly in the eye, “Could you hold me? In the bed, please?”

“Of course,” You said in the same calming tone, taking his hands in yours to give a reassuring squeeze. This allowed him, spurred him perhaps, to lead you over to the Queen-sized bed, where the only blemish in its immaculate sheets was a dip on the edge that you could picture John taking up as he waited for you to arrive.

When you leant in that same spot he had and began to take off your shoes, John reached his hand out as if to stop your hand. It hovered for a split second before gesturing at you.

“Clothes stay on. Please,” He said in the same voice.

Both times he’d asked you for something, his manners seemed like an after-thought. You were reminded that his job likely meant he wasn’t used to having to be polite. Though it was the bare minimum, you appreciated it nonetheless. That confidence you’d spotted him hiding last time wasn’t unfounded. Here, it just was clearer that he found himself floundering and being uncomfortable with the very fact that he wasn’t able to sail smoothly through this interaction. You reminded yourself that he had wanted something akin to a romantic relationship, but you didn’t expect him to struggle with it this much. You’d have to be a lot more merciful with him then.

With your shoes off, but socks still on, you knelt in the centre of the shockingly plush mattress and reached out for him. Your coy smile warmed him up, his own sheepish one growing as he took your hands again. Balancing carefully, you pivoted your legs out from under you and lay back in the mountain of pillows. Your descent encouraged John to follow you, tuck himself up into you, rest his head atop your chest as you curved your arms to accommodate his giant frame. The instant he finally ceased fidgeting, you heard – and felt through the thread of your shirt – John taking a deep breath right where your collarbones kissed. The tension down his spine started to slouch its way out. You made a mental note to wear this scent around him more.

“Do you want to watch anything?” he asked, already holding the remote control.

“I’m not fussed,” You replied. It emerged as a half-whisper.

“I don’t know any of these, d’you?”

“All a bit rubbish, to be honest. Just gotta find you your type of rubbish.”

“Don’t have the energy right now, love. What’s your type of rubbish?”

You let him flick through the categories, none of these sparking hope. At last, the cursor landed on a safe option, a no-man’s-land of a TV show.

“There, that’ll do,” You said, pointing and wagging your hand over when John accidentally skipped past it, “It’s not mind-blowing, but it passes the time.”

“Good enough for me.”

And it was for you too. Quite a nice paycheck, all things considered. Not once did John’s hands stray down your body; one arm was tucked into his front between the two of you and the other crossed over your chest. Your shirt creased where his cheek pressed against your chest. He was like a heated, weighted blanket that smelt incredible and would occasionally make scathing commentary on the programme, making you chuckle. Among his other noises, he let out grunts of approval whenever your nails scratched up where his skull met his neck. The third was a little snore he let out whilst dozing – a few snorts pushing out his nose until he either woke himself back up or disappeared into deeper sleep. You yourself fell victim to the Sandman shortly after, but not before texting your friend that you were safe and sound with your burly customer as good as a lamb.

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Beneath a throw blanket, you woke up at half past seven. There was no doubt in your mind that John had been awake for some time; he was sitting up beside you, pretending to watch the TV still, wearing the same clothes but evidently a lot less groggy than you were.

“Good morning, I wanted to order breakfast,” He indicated the menu he was reading, “Didn’t know what you wanted though. Didn’t wanna wake you either.”

Your elbow propped you up to say, “That’s so sweet of you.”

Clearly not used to a flattering remark, John turned his attention back to the screen with rosy cheeks, the menu held out to you, “Let me know what you want.”

How ironic, for a man who dictated the entire scenario but was still unable to confess outside of a legal setting that he wanted to fuck you, to ask you if how you’d like your eggs. Eggs you would not be ordering because of the awful breath it would give you.

You pushed up to sit beside him against the scarlet cushioned headboard. A few stretches resulted in a satisfied groan against the clicks of your back and you handed back the menu with your order.

Just like last night, John seemed to have trouble getting out his requests, which you interpreted as him wanting to ask you to shower with him. Instead, he offered it to you first, which you graciously accepted.

In your reflection, an imprint of a button winked faintly at you from your chest, right where John had rested his head. You touched over the impression before you set your shower up for a quick scrub. Yet you lingered in the stall for a few minutes longer, the water pressure and temperature pacifying the stiffness in your back.

Steam rolled out like fog over a lake when you opened the shower door. A complimentary robe transitioned you from your towel and kept you cosy as you began massaging lotion into your face, skin staying soothed in the circle you cleared of condensation in the mirror.

A chill reached your shoulder blades as John let himself into the bathroom, still in his clothes from yesterday.

“Breakfast will be here in about ten minutes,” He perched on the toilet seat.

“Thank you.” Continuing to make odd faces to ensure your lotion reached every pore, you took note of the intrigue with which he observed your routine.

You offered your hand out, two fingers wielding a healthy dollop of face cream. “Want some?”

Price looked down at it, instinctively leaning back an inch to decline, “No, thank you. You’re alright.”

You didn’t push it – his freckled skin seemed fine without your products – so you just let him watch you from his spot in the steam. In the reflection, you caught him smiling wistfully at you, though never initiating eye contact. Having gone off assumptions of contentedness when you cuddled him last night, you were glad that you could actually see John smile again.

Still, that wall, for your “safety” as he’d phrased it, was up.John sprang for the polite rapping at the door and was blocking you from the view of the visitor with both doors plus his own body. From that alone, he was clearly capable of taking charge in any situation. So why not this one? Why was he so obviously nervous when he’d been able to hide it in the restaurant? You wanted to find out. You wanted to break that wall down to see his reasons why.

Maybe next time you were together, once this routine became a little closer to his comfort zone, he’d be a bit more alright with asking for more.

As you exited the bathroom, you caught John and found him guilty of reorganising the trays, removing all signs of hotel logos from the plated food. Maybe it was to aid the pretence that he’d made you breakfast, an attempt to add to the domesticity of this rendezvous. Maybe he was just picky. Regardless, he met your eye with no shame of being found out.

You made use of the tiny iron (why did hotels always have such tiny irons?) to neaten up your clothes whilst tactfully ignoring the packet of condoms poking out of John’s bag. He must’ve noticed you noticing them however; he carefully nudged them deeper into his bag whilst retrieving a clean jumper.

His desires from your dinner still ringing in your ears, you tested the waters again and pointed to the smallest of creases at the cuff of the jumper, “Want me to press it quickly?”

For a split second, John looked at you with pupils blown and a firm grip on his clothing. Then he scoffed light-heartedly, “You’re not my maid.”

“I know. I’m offering.”

Though his smirk twisted into an appreciative smile, John still denied your request and disappeared to change in the bathroom. Yet his choice still quietly confirmed how your new client would veer more towards the domestic clauses in your contract.

Based on his reactions over the past twelve hours, you deduced he was not quite at the stage where you do his coat buttons up for him or adjust his beanie. You’d get there eventually. But he did let you do the little zip up on his jumper when it came time to part ways.

“I had a lot of fun, John.”

“You don’t have to lie just because I’m paying you,” He said, in such an earnest way that you knew instantly he wasn’t saying it to fish for compliments. Still, that underlying insult stung you.

Not wanting to let this become a habit, you forced him to face your stare with a hand on his cheek to keep him locked in place, “Do you really think I’m lying to you, just because you’ve given me money?”

How he observed you, his eyes travelling along where bones and tissue connected, over the valleys of blood vessels and stretch marks, you felt a slight chill. John was not scanning you to total your physical worth to him but genuinely deciding based on your behaviours, body language, if you were lying. Your morbidly curious mind leaned into the darkness of what might happen if he landed on a false conclusion and how often he came to those.

Remaining to be seen, John shook his head once, “No.”

“So, don’t be rude. I enjoy your company and it’d be a shame to ruin that with your assumptions,” You said, playfully whilst hoping he inferred your warning.

An exhale through the nose, John’s shoulders shrugged his body with a warm smile, “Sorry.”

“I forgive you.” Again, you spoke with a teasing tone over the layer of seriousness. It persisted as you wondered if he’d like a kiss goodbye. He was still letting you thumb over where his dimples were hiding from the daylight. If he wanted a kiss, would he want one on the cheek? The lips? The corner of his mouth to hide and save for his greatest adventure?

Not even the J.M. Barrie connection could soften your disbelief (which you really should’ve been adjusted to with this slow-release enigma of a man). John who opened up about wanting sex and more was the same man who wouldn’t even initiate a kiss. So your hand slipped down from his face and squeezed on his bicep instead, a tip at the end of your bill as you absorbed the strength he was capable of. John’s already straight posture adjusted underneath your gesture.

“See you again soon?” You prompted as you let go of him.

John confirmed, “I’ll let you know as soon as I do.”

#john price x reader #john price oneshot #john price fanfic #cod fanfic #cod x reader #cod oneshot #my writing #wc: 5k>#r: gn

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timeagainreviews · 7 months ago

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In Space, Nobody Can Hear You Scream for Your Nappy Change

Few shows have had as many pilot episodes as Doctor Who. From “An Unearthly Child,” to the 1996 TV movie, to 2005’s “Rose,” and now “Space Babies.” However, one could argue that every new Doctor is essentially a pilot episode. There are notable shifts in the show’s dynamic to such a degree that it’s practically a reset. Any major personnel shift is a renewal. The transition from William Hartnell to Patrick Troughton, the transfer of power from Russell T Davies to Steven Moffat, and again, from Moffat to Chris Chibnall, for example. Even series ten began with the cheeky title “The Pilot,” where we find the Doctor earthbound as a college professor with his student, Bill, and his wife, Nardole. But “Space Babies,” is an odd one, for so many reasons. Mostly because it’s introducing us to characters we’ve been getting to know for a couple of episodes now. Then, of course, there’s everything else.

For some, an episode called “Space Babies” was always going to be a hard sale. Back in March when they revealed the new episode titles as a series of vignettes, Space Babies looked and sounded a lot like what we got. Sometimes a very literal title can be a bit of fun. “Snakes on a Plane,” tells you everything you need to know going in. While it may have benefitted from a bit of virality, you could argue that it does more with its premise than something like “Cocaine Bear,” which was little more than its title. I’ve complained in the past that my issue with the concept of the Timeless Child was that you could figure out the story by hearing the words. If I can watch a story in my head from its title, then in the words of Amy Pond- what is the point of you? My reaction to the title “Space Babies,” was very similar. Except in this case, I would say it was closer to a “Snakes On a Plane,” than a “Cocaine Bear.”

We’re off to a great start. I got to mention cocaine and babies in the same sentence. Speaking of awkward starts, why did Russell T Davies decide to open the show with the twee episode for the kiddies? Those types of stories are usually relegated to the mid-season point, after a really good one. I guess they needed a palette cleanser to put some space between “The Giggle,” and “The Devil’s Chord,” as they’re essentially the same story twice. But that’s for the next review. Though “Rose,” has its own brand of wacky weirdness with man-eating rubbish bins and plastic boyfriend doppelgangers with pizza peels for hands. Even still, it’s an odd choice for the “pilot.”

A lot of the episode’s enjoyment is predicated on how cute you think babies are. In my case, it’s not very much. If they had called the episode “Space Kittens,” it would have hooked me. But babies come with baggage. People are weird about babies. Babies are often politicised, which this episode definitely does, but more on that later. Another reason why babies were a hard sell for me is they’re not actors. Child actors are rarely good, so filtering their performances through the vacant faces of babies is like making a bad thing worse. Sure, they animated their mouths with cutting-edge technology straight from 1995’s “Babe,” but their faces gave us no range of emotion unless you count Eric, whose facial expression was that of one constantly bricking it in his diaper. I was reminded of the Gelflings in “The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance,” in that it takes some getting used to the look of their faces. Except in the case of the Gelflings, the Jim Henson Creature Workshop knew their limitations and used CGI where the puppets fell short. A furrowed brow would have gone a long way to sell the babies.

However, I’m not made of stone. I’m not so joyless that I can’t send my critical brain on a little vacay for 46 minutes. I also appreciate that Doctor Who still takes the time to do stories for children. It’s a family show, after all. I was even impressed that the episode was able to sell me on the concept of a booger man (or Bogeyman to be precise) when “Sleep No More,” had so utterly failed to sell me on the concept of eye booger men previously. Even more, I had never expected to feel an emotional connection to said Bogeyman. While a lot of it had to do with Ncuti Gatwa’s performance, I’ll admit I actually got a little choked up at the end of the episode. Even a snotty little freak of nature deserves a place in the world, and I identified with that. It’s nice when a Doctor Who episode ends and it was actually about something.

As mentioned before, Russell T Davies uses the baggage that comes along with babies to stoke the fire of his own story. Through the eyes of Jocylen, the ship’s reluctant nanny, we see the babies in another light- as a constant source of worry. Having never wanted the job in the first place, Jocylen’s part is one of necessity rather than vocation. No one working in the field of charity or crisis aid wants to be doing the work. Sure, it’s fulfilling, but the nature of its necessity is telling of the world at large, or in this case- star system. In a perfect star system, no child would go unhugged, unattended, or forgotten. Yet here she is, forced by circumstance and emboldened by compassion to rise to the occasion. She may not be nailing it, but seriously, who the hell else was taking care of the children they forced to exist? If “Kill the Moon,” was Doctor Who’s pro-life story, this episode stands in stark contrast as the pro-choice story.

An episode with a butt-shaped space station that farts its way to the shores of freedom seems like an odd choice to talk about refugees, but it’s also the episode that gave a booger a soul. While a lot of the tone aligns more with “Aliens of London/World War Three,” or “Love and Monsters,” the message aligns more with something like “Turn Left.” Russell T Davies is giving us a spoonful of sugar with our medicine, which seems the correct approach in a show where Christmas trees are capable of murder. Suffice it to say, seeing a Rwandan refugee playing a British icon on the BBC commenting on the conservative government’s Rwandan bill is better than anything the show could do on its own. You almost have to do it, and more than I’m glad RTD rose to the occasion, I’m glad it was Ncuti who got to do it.

Speaking of things only Ncuti Gatwa could do, I appreciate that his Doctor is emotionally available enough to offer a hug to a child while still being alien enough to scare the bejeezus out of them. I can’t really picture Tom Baker hugging anyone, though I can imagine him scaring the bejeezus out of someone. Maybe Matt Smith would do it. Jodie as well. But Gatwa’s Doctor is an interesting mixture of compassionate and completely aloof. It’s a mixture that is sometimes at odds with itself, but it works. You see it in brief moments like when Ruby’s caretaker instincts take over and she runs head-on into danger, while the Doctor takes a moment to pop around the corner and catch up to her. It’s the classic dynamic of the Doctor being reminded of human nature by his companion.

I really like this selfless defender of the people streak in Ruby’s personality. It reminds me a lot of an ‘80s companion. She’s like a mixture of Nyssa and Ace. She puts herself in harm's way to protect others. She writes songs to cheer up lovesick lesbians. She’s got a very full personality that is palpable very early on. We got this level of character development with RTD’s earlier companions, and it’s nice to see it continue. What’s less nice is how he seems to have also taken a page from Steven Moffat’s book where the companion must also be needlessly complicated. What’s more is it feels less enticing and more like retreading familiar territory. It’s giving “The Impossible Girl,” vibes with an Amy Pond pregnancy body scan to bring it full circle. This is one of my biggest issues with the RTD2 era so far- it feels like a remix of past Doctor Who. That isn’t to say he’s added nothing new to the show, but it does feel a bit Clara 2.0. I’m just saying, it doesn’t always have to be some star-crossed destiny. If you do it every time, it loses its power. Sometimes people just meet each other. Say what you will about Yaz’s characterisation, but at least she was allowed to be a person.

The story at the heart of “Space Babies,” is ultimately a bit thin. You could argue that there was never any real threat, but that happens sometimes on Doctor Who (take “Listen,” for example). I’ve seen some people online complaining that the Bogeyman doesn’t die, but what does it really do other than scare people? Sure, you see Eric’s pram toppled and find him characteristically bricking it in his diaper, but he’s not got a scratch on him. What if Eric went missing because the Bogeyman “ate” him. They could reveal that he actually was protecting Eric from the dangers of the malfunctioning bowels of the ship. Imagine the bogey bits tearing away out of the airlock, slowly revealing Eric inside. Not only would Jocylen have almost taken an innocent life, but two innocent lives. Pair that with the Doctor's brave rescue and blammo! It could have upped the tension and implied more danger, is all I’m saying.

I was a bit confused by the ship’s computer creating the Bogeyman in the first place. That entire aspect of the plot was skimmed over and very flimsy. I thought they were doing something with the show’s new magical premise, a “superstition of the Bogeyman made him exist,” sort of angle. But no, it was just something the ship did, for reasons. I also expected that to be the reason for Ruby's transformation into the weird scaly lizard woman. I expected it to suddenly be possible through superstition that stepping on a butterfly could change the course of history. But instead, the Doctor forgot to push the butterfly compensator on the TARDIS console. Kinda weird that RTD had two moments to further his own mythology but sided on technobabble. Not bad, just odd.

One aspect that bothered me was how long it took them to reveal the Bogeyman was made of snot. When they took the time to do this whole to do with the babies blowing their noses, I immediately looked over at my wife and said “The Bogeyman is made of baby boogers,’ to which she responded “I hate that you’re right.” They telegraphed it so hard that it made the Doctor seem slow on the uptake. If you recall from my review of "The Husbands of River Song," I felt like they did the same thing to River with how long it took her to recognise the Doctor. However, I imagine it's a bit of a balancing act to know when to reveal something. The Doctor doesn't necessarily have all of the information we have as an audience.

As pilots go, “Space Babies,” could have done better at introducing a new audience to Doctor Who. Much of the expository dialogue about who the Doctor is or where he came from felt rushed and unnatural. My friend Taryn said she enjoyed this aspect of the Doctor being less cryptic and more forthcoming with information. While I agree, I feel like the execution was clumsy, a word we’re starting to see more often in my reviews of the RTD2 era. For comparison, take Fallout, a show that came out only a month earlier. Both are technically first seasons of tv shows based on pre-existing properties with dense lore. Both have eight episodes to tell their stories. And yet with Fallout, we get a trickle of information as things happen. With Doctor Who we have the Doctor stopping his companion mid-sentence to say “Oh yeah, by the way, I have two hearts.” Look, I get it, I’m neurodivergent. I appreciate a good infodump. But there’s a big reason people are calling Fallout a triumph- it respects its audience enough to reveal things over time.

RTD said recently that young people won’t watch black and white. I don’t know if this is true as I am a cusp gen x/millennial. I don’t know much about what kids get up to these days, but I also don’t go around saying what they will and won’t do. It sounds a lot like “Those damn kids with their hip hop video games,” or like “Kids don’t like anything that isn’t Tik Tok or Roblox.” It feels like it misunderstands the appeal of storytelling in the first place. Studio executives have never fully understood what is good about Doctor Who. In the ‘70s and ‘80s, it was “Why can’t it be like Star Wars?” In the Chibnall era, the goal was to compete with Netflix. And now it’s “We need to meet the same standards of Marvel.” But if Doctor Who is always being compared to something else, you curse it into always being behind the curve. When I fell in love with Doctor Who, it was because it wasn’t like anything I had ever seen before. If I want to watch Iron Man, I’ll watch Iron Man.

Not all of the expository dialogue was without merit. I’ve been continually impressed by RTD’s handling of the Timeless Child storyline. As longtime readers know, I was not a fan of that story. Hell, first-time readers probably picked up on it in this article. But I don’t think it’s fair to discount the people who did enjoy that story. And I think it is far more interesting for the show to develop the idea as opposed to sweeping it under the rug. We learned that the Time Lord genocide was cellular, which helps the whole concept of the Master achieving what millions of Daleks couldn’t do make more sense. It’s amazing how much a single line of dialogue can overcome a lot of shoddy writing. I liked the Doctor stating that it doesn’t matter where he comes from, as I’ve been saying that the whole damn time. It’s also nice that despite everything, the Doctor is still a Time Lord in his hearts of hearts. We as fans kinda need those moments so we can collectively move on from what has been a rather ugly time in the fandom.

That’s not to say we aren’t still in an ugly culture battle within the fandom. Racism is still a very real aspect to the conversation. As are ableism, sexism, transphobia. And despite RTD meeting these things head-on with the grace of a fish out of water, we’ve still got some great points of intrigue. Who is this woman played by Susan Twist we keep seeing in the background? Who is the one who waits? Is Mrs Flood the White Guardian to Susan Twist’s Black Guardian? I would love to say it’s the Rani because it’s been 20 fucking years of it not being the Rani, which is also the exact reason I won’t say it’s the Rani. But god I wish it was the Rani. They even name-drop her! Give us this one, please. My point being, despite its daftness and its expressionless babies, “Space Babies,” still gives us a lot to go off of. If you didn’t like it, do what I did and watch it twice. The emotional resonance works better when it feels less like you’re watching a car accident.

Look, if you didn’t like “Space Babies,” I get it. Maybe it’s not for you. There are weird little problems with the episode. The expository dialogue I mentioned, for example. The babies are a bit much. The Bogeyman howling like a werewolf was batshit weird. I guess it was because they compared him to a dog. Even then, why not make it bark? You could ask things like “Why didn’t the Doctor use the TARDIS to fly them to safety instead of setting their space station on a crash course with the planet’s surface?” or "Why didn't the Doctor get sucked out of the airlock? It's air pressure, not gravity." Is the humour still falling a bit flat? Sure. It’s easy to pick stuff apart. But come on, the episode is called “Space Babies,” you knew ahead of time if that concept was going to work for you or not.

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Thanks for reading! I'm sorry these articles are taking a while. Having two episodes drop simultaneously doubles my workload! I'll have the review for "The Devil's Chord," up tomorrow! Hopefully next week will be more timely.

#Doctor Who #Space Babies #Ncuti Gatwa #Millie Gibson #Russel T Davies #Ruby Sunday #Fifteenth Doctor #Season one #RTD #RTD2 #Susan Twist #Bogeyman #TARDIS #BBC #timeagainreviews

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abalathia · 7 months ago

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- basics.

B A S I C S

Name: Florence Armstrong Corlieux.

Nicknames: Flo, Ren.

Age: 29.

Nameday: 10th Sun of the 2nd Astral Moon.

Race: Ala Mhigan. Half Highlander, half Midlander.

Gender: Female.

Orientation: Pansexual (femme preference).

Profession: Sell-sword. Now that the Resistance has prevailed, Florence escorts a merchant ship to and from Thavnair, splitting her time between there and Gyr Abania.

P H Y S I C A L A S P E C T S

Hair: Naturally raven though occasionally dyed.

Eyes: Amber.

Skin: Sun-kissed.

Tattoos/scars: No tattoos. Plenty of scars, her facial scar the most prominent.

F A M I L Y

Parents: Ada Armstrong, a retired dancer, and Frederick Corlieux, an Ishgardian soldier. She maintains a close relationship with her mother. The only knowledge she has of her father, however, is his name which she adopted in order to spare her family the embarrassment of being linked to her unsavory transgressions.

Siblings: The twins, Emmett and Elias.

Grandparents: Unknown/estranged.

In-laws and Other: None.

Pets: A street cat.

S K I L L S

Abilities: Years as a soldier for the Crystal Braves and subsequently the Ala Mhigan Resistance cemented her strong skillset with varying melee weapons, most notably swords and lances. Her prowess in close-quartered combat makes up for her lack of practice with ranged and magical armaments.

Hobbies: Fishing, jewelry crafting, and reading are a few of Florence's beloved hobbies. Following the war, however, she drowns herself in drink and work, eager to eliminate as much downtime as possible lest her demons rage.

T R A I T S

Most Positive Trait: Ambitious and passionate, she is a hell of an addition to any roster. Failure will never be an option, and Florence will stop at nothing to succeed.

Most Negative Trait: Florence is reckless, impulsive, and hedonistic. You can give her a command, but it's a coin toss whether or not she will follow through. If it does not benefit her, you can assume the latter.

L I K E S

Colors: Jewel tones with a preference for oranges and blues.

Smells: Leather, tobacco, and spices.

Textures: Metallic and jagged textures.

Drinks: Anything stiff and neat.

O T H E R D E T A I L S

Smokes: Yes.

Drinks: Daily. Florence suffers from survivor's guilt and PTSD, and inebriation is the only source of relief she allows herself. Unwilling to divulge what she considers to be her weaknesses, she refuses to seek help and instead drowns her symptoms until their sting is inconsequential.

Drugs: Frequently. (See above.)

Mount Issuance: A lilac-plumed chocobo.

Been Arrested: Caught many a time for petty crimes such as thievery, Florence is no stranger to the law. Her capture for her complicity in the events at Baelsar's Wall nearly cost her her life, but she has remained at liberty since negotiating her release.

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Tagged by: I lost the post I stole this from. :')

Tagging: Anyone! i'm chronically late to the party.

#i'll take any excuse to talk about my beloved #ffxiv #prompt #florence corlieux

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vlccinstitute33 · 3 months ago

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VLCC Institute Facial Gua Sha

Gua sha is an ancient Chinese technique which helps in healing the chronic pain for a better health. This is a natural therapy which involves scraping your skin with a crystal stone to improve your circulation. Gua means scrape and sha means sand, this has been used for thousands of years.

Gua sha is done aggressively on the body but is done very gently on the face. Gentle scraping movement is repeatedly done on the face to remove stagnated fluids which carry the toxins. Gua sha encourages collagen production. It helps in sculpting and toning the face naturally. It reduces the tension from the muscles and also reduces inflammation.

The amazing benefit of gua sha is that it can be used by all ages and skin types.

Drains out the lymph fluid which often carries the toxins and thus helps in cleansing the skin.

Helps in releasing the tensions from the muscles.

Helps in de-puffing the face.

Helps in de-puffing the under eyes which aids in eliminating dark circles.

Improves skin elasticity.

Plumps the skin and gives a natural glow to the skin.

Reduces the acne.

Increases microcirculation.

Reduces the appearance of fine lines and wrinkle.

Gives relief from headache.

Because this is a natural healing remedy, gua sha is completely safe. However one must consider the following points before performing gua sha on your face or body:

As it involves scraping method, the tiny blood vessels on the skin surface may tend to burst and cause bruising.

Do not perform gua sha if you have just got done Botox.

Avoid gua sha, if you had surgery in last six weeks.

Avoid doing it on active acne and open lesions.

People who have blood clotting disorders should stay away from gua sha.

First choose the right tool for gua sha. You have so many crystals which come in different sizes and shapes. Every crystal is unique as they are natural stones. Always opt for an original crystal rather than plastic mixed stone, as the plastic irritates your skin. These tools are pricey but are very effective in giving you the desired results with consistent use.

Follow these steps to do Facial Gua Sha:

To begin with, wash your hands and face then make sure to apply generous amount of oil so that the stone can easily glide on the skin without causing any tugging and pulling of the skin.

Simple rule to do facial gua sha is to follow the flow of lymphatic system. This helps in draining out the toxins.

The movement should be very slow and gentle on the skin & the tool should be held flat at a 15 degree angle to make full benefit of the stone.

Start from neck area because you hold lot of muscle tension in that area. Start sweeping the stone towards the direction of lymph node. Repeat it at least 3 to 10 times for the actual action.

Next sweep up on both the sides of neck (you can refer the picture provided for guidance).

Sweep from under the chin to the earlobe ending as you have lymph node here which helps in filtering the toxins.

Sweep from mid chin to the jaw line.

Sweep under the cheek bone for a sculpted look.

Sweep under the eyes, this helps against dark circles.

Sweep over the eyebrows, there is a lot of tension here because of frequent facial expressions.

Sweep from between eyebrows towards the hairline and from mid forehead to the hairline.

Now finish the session by completely sliding all the collected fluids at the sides to the neck which assist in lymphatic drainage.

AFTER CARE

After the session clean the tool with a mild cleanser, dry and sanitize. You can recharge the stone by keeping it under the full moon. You can use this stone for lifetime unless it breaks. Store the stone wrapping it up in a soft cloth. Drink lots of water after the gua sha which aids in fast lymph movement. Also rehydrates your skin and body. You can do gua sha almost every day. Do it consistently to see the results. This helps in maintaining your skin health.

#skincourse #skincarecourses #advancedskincarecourses #skincarecoursesonline

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mewritingthingsandstuff · 4 months ago

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My fight with Hirohito

When I moved in to another house for the week I ended up walking into the place with something that hit me like an airplane it was the most malevolent and negative energy I have ever felt in my life! As I was trying to settle I could not because of people mentioning these creepy dolls at the end of the basement of the house! I never really saw these damned dolls until I left this accursed place! That house was not normal nor an ordinary experience as the first night we were there the alarm went off mysteriously! That was the day I ended up seeing what looked like an apparition of a Japanese man committing seppuku! I was able to see the facial features of the ghost or what I thought was just a ghost and didn’t think about it until I went to bed the next night!

Early that day I got into two fights with two other friends (this was after seeing the ghost commit seppuku), that night after the fighting I realized that spiritually I was way in over my head as I was dealing with demonic entities….as being the clairvoyant that I am I found that it was the evil Japanese emperor who founded unit 731, Hirohito himself that was in the house….he was the demon from the blasts of hell! When I was talking more and more about it the more likely that I was getting out of character and that was when I realized that this was the first sign of demonic attachment that you have not possession! As they can only attach themselves to your soul!

“I for got my healing stones in my room,” I said.

So my friends ended up looking for quartz crystals that would help me until I was either cope or get out of this nasty situation! And one of them was a black quart!

This is what it can do

It is believed to help clear blockages in all 7 main chakras, allowing energy to flow freely through them. Furthermore, this stone has many additional benefits such as providing physical protection from electromagnetic frequencies and radiation exposure, as well as any black crystal is able to defend from negative or demonic energy!

To be honest I was atheist when my belief on the devil and the demons! I was not a Christian, Muslim nor Jewish so why should I be fearful what I thought was a man made idea! That was until I went to this fucking place…..

I came back a few crystals richer but I was starting to snap and yell at more and more people! Effectively blaming the ex boyfriend who cheated on me for opening this can of worms! I was not happy! My ex is named James by the way….. I still blame him for summoning Hirohito back to earth! As far as I was concerned the next few weeks were going to be critical Shamaniclady and spiritually as I had to do this battle with just a few ( quite a few) crystals now to help ward of the evil that I encountered!

Also I up on leave this house of horrors I decided to see this dolls that people were meantioning I said or repeated an incantation to protect my self as I took the picture of these dolls or the portal to hell as I called it! I am still very certain that Hirohito and many other demons are still in that house, evil people from history! And I think by me saying that mantra that I was able to close that portal to hell if not temporarily!

As you know I am a polarian starseed and my psychic abilities are bar none! But what the fuck I felt…..if you ever feel that kind of engery or emotion might I give you some advice! Fucking turn tail and run like the hell you are trying to avoid! That is all I have to say!

The creepiest part is that people didnot abandon this fucking fun house from hell!

#creative writers #female writer #female writers #queer writers #women writers #writers #writers and readers #writersociety #writer stuff #writerscommunity

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tea-with-evan-and-me · 5 months ago

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"the entirety of this message is a problem and a projection - he doesn’t look pissed at natalie. no one was forced to be there. they did not look “distant”. they looked like two people with cameras shoved in their face and a whole mass of fans screaming for evan. i want to give you the benefit of the doubt, but please be serious and use not even critical thinking, just basic reasoning."

Admin, I really love you and I mostly agree with everything you say, I find you a breath of fresh air and reason in the fandom, or any fandom for that matter, because you remind me that truly funny and reasonable Evan fans exist and have a whole life of their own.

But, I think that you might be going to hard on the anon here 🥺 What they were trying to say, maybe, is that he seemed pissed. He did, what can you do? Maybe he wasn't,all they say is that he did seem pissed. As for the distant part, I don't know, they looked normal to me, but hey, I am not them,so how would I know. And how do we know that he was not forced to be there? Not by his gf of course, I don't think so, but by an agent / a deal? A deal he couldn't say no to because, you know marketing ties and everything? I'm just listing a couple of possibilities that may or may not be true. An anon a couple days ago in here ( I cannot find the post lol) has said that we don't know anything. I cannot say that Evan is happy, because I don't know. I can only say that he looks happy or he seems at a good place and hope for the best. We can only make assumptions, so why go hard on someone that insinuates anything that might actually be possible even by a tiny winiiiiee little bit?

Sorry for the long post, I hope my point is clear 🥺

Oh and I loved the new content from today, he does look uncomfortable but that's regular Evan in social situations I guess ✨ I loved his gf's dress too ❣️

first of all, thank you 💗 i hear you, and i genuinely do appreciate your perspective on this. but there’s a few things i want to expand on and be crystal clear about: there is no scenario in which it’s okay to make, nor entertain, entirely baseless accusations of domestic violence. this is not, and never can be, something we treat as a “let’s hear both sides” type situation. everyone who wants to play softball needs to remember how very quickly their words can sprout wings and start doing the rounds on social media, destroying an innocent persons character. some people may actually BE acting in good faith out of concern over the discourse they’re seeing about natalie potentially becoming violent with evan - again, based on dust. nothing. it’s already happening, and this is not okay. those that don’t want salacious and harmful rumors persisting must shut this down immediately and relegate those who play into it to the fringe parts of the fandom that no one takes seriously.

please take a moment to reflect back on the damage done during the worst of the brigade some fans started on frances. i literally spent hours debunking an elaborate plot where people photoshopped nude images of “evan” and his privates, fran’s tumblr page, AND patreon so that they could sell a story where she victimized evan and posted revenge porn. before that, these fans created a made up story about frances selling evan’s phone number to fans, and it STILL gets repeated years later. i’m sorry. i have thousands of people on this blog and with the audience i have, i DO have a responsibility to use strongly worded language to denounce people attempting to, or unwittingly going along with character assassination against a woman some hate simply due to her dating evan.

on a lesser note, i don’t find it appropriate to analyze every facial expression or movement actively looking for reasons to say they’re unhappy together, when we are quite literally discussing something that’s by nature, uncomfortable and unnatural. posing for photos in front of flashing lights, screaming fans, socializing with strangers… again, please place yourself in their position and try and imagine if you’d look jubilant and at ease. if you’d look like you were having fun and wanted to be there. now imagine you’re socially anxious as a person. i am asking people to stop seeking out negativity and projecting it onto these people - it’s not fair, and whether or not you are purposely trying to be problematic, it’s honestly just not necessary to paint every interaction in a negative light. as i said, i want to give the prior anon the benefit of the doubt that they got swept up in the negative commentary and baseless allegations.. and that’s why i responded to them directly. sometimes, we just need to take a breather and think critically before we put serious stuff like that out into the universe. i really hope that makes sense and you understand where i am coming from. 🫶🏼

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muhammadarslanalvi · 9 months ago

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Seeing Beyond the Pixel: An Introduction to Digital Image Processing

Have you ever stopped to wonder how that blurry picture from your phone gets transformed into a crystal-clear masterpiece on social media?

Or how scientists can analyze faraway galaxies using images captured by telescopes? The secret sauce behind these feats is Digital Image Processing (DIP)!

Imagine DIP (Digital Image Processing) as a cool toolbox for your digital images. It lets you manipulate and analyze them using powerful computer algorithms. You can think of it as giving your pictures a makeover, but on a whole new level.

The Image Makeover Process

DIP works in a series of steps, like a recipe for image perfection:

Snap Happy! (Image Acquisition) - This is where it all starts. You capture the image using a camera, scanner, or even a scientific instrument like a telescope!

Person taking a picture with smartphone

Picture Prep (Preprocessing) - Sometimes, images need a little prep work before the real magic happens. Think of it like trimming the edges or adjusting the lighting to ensure better analysis.

Person editing a photo on a computer

Enhance Me! (Enhancement) - Here's where your image gets a glow-up! Techniques like adjusting brightness, contrast, or sharpening details can make all the difference in clarity and visual appeal.

Blurry photo becoming clear after editing

Fixing the Funky (Restoration) - Did your old family photo get a little scratched or blurry over time? DIP can help remove those imperfections like a digital eraser, restoring the image to its former glory.

Scratched photo being restored

Info Time! (Analysis) - This is where things get interesting. DIP can actually extract information from the image, like identifying objects, recognizing patterns, or even measuring distances. Pretty cool, right?

Xray being analyzed by a doctor on a computer

Size Matters (Compression) - Ever struggled to send a massive photo via email? DIP can shrink the file size without losing too much detail, making it easier to store and share images efficiently.

Large image file being compressed

Voila! (Output) - The final step is presenting your masterpiece! This could be a stunningly clear picture, a detailed analysis report, or anything in between, depending on the purpose of the image processing.

Highquality image after processing

Real World Wow Factor

DIP isn't just about making pretty pictures (although that's a valuable application too!). It has a wide range of real-world uses that benefit various fields:

Medical Marvels (Medical Field) - DIP helps doctors analyze X-rays, MRIs, and other medical scans with greater accuracy and efficiency, leading to faster and more precise diagnoses.

Cosmic Companions (Astronomy) - Scientists use DIP to analyze images from space telescopes, revealing the secrets of stars, galaxies, and other wonders of the universe. By enhancing faint details and removing noise, DIP allows astronomers to peer deeper into the cosmos.

Space telescope capturing an image of a galaxy

Eagle Eye from Above (Remote Sensing) - Satellites use DIP to monitor Earth, tracking weather patterns, deforestation, and other environmental changes. By analyzing satellite imagery, researchers can gain valuable insights into the health of our planet.

Satellite image of Earth

Unlocking Your Face (Security Systems) - Facial recognition systems use DIP to identify people in images and videos, which can be used for security purposes or even to personalize user experiences.

Facial recognition system unlocking a phone

Selfie Magic (Consumer Electronics) - Your smartphone uses DIP to enhance your photos, automatically adjusting brightness, contrast, and other factors to make your selfies look their best.

Person taking a selfie

The Future's Looking Sharp

DIP is constantly evolving, thanks to advancements in Artificial Intelligence (AI). Imagine self-driving cars using DIP for super-accurate navigation in real-time, or virtual reality experiences that seamlessly blend real and digital worlds with exceptional clarity. The possibilities are endless!

So, the next time you look at an image, remember, there's a whole world of technology working behind the scenes to make it what it is. With DIP, we can truly see beyond the pixel and unlock the hidden potential of the visual world around us.

References:

Gonzalez, Rafael C., and Richard E. Woods. "Digital image processing." Pearson Education India, 2008.

Jain, Anil K. "Fundamentals of digital image processing." Prentice-Hall, Inc., 1989.

National Institute of Standards and Technology (NIST). "Digital Image Processing: An Introduction." https://www.amazon.com/Introduction-Digital-Image-Processing/dp/0134806743

U.S. Department of Energy (DOE). "Image Processing and Analysis." https://www.baeldung.com/cs/energy-image-processing

Patel, Meet, et al. "Image Processing Techniques in Medical Field: A Literature Review." Journal of Medical Physics, vol. 40, no. 4, 2019, pp. 140001. https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3782694/

#artificial intelligence #coding #machine learning #python #programming #digitalimageprocessing #dip #image

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curiositythecryptid · 6 months ago

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Hello, back again another fic promo post!

It just took breaking a Dancy Pants machine, elemental merging and stopping the apocalypse for the nth time. Are all engagements this eventful? or, Diversity win! Nya gets a serving of the trauma salad. Cole is surprisingly experienced in the particular field.

This one is vaguely a sequel to four truths of the disembodied, if you've ever read that one! It took me a while to get around to posting this one on Tumblr bc I have some things I wanted to say about it.

Author's notes below the cut!

One very common Nya take I've seen in my year of fandom experience is that Nya still has the facial markings from her time as the Endless Sea, usually blue or glowing blue at some point, or that her hair is still water or turns into water when she uses her powers.

Those headcanons and fanart are really cool, I have to admit they lend themselves to excellent visuals, but the mechanics of them (as well as the mechanics of [shudders] Crystallized in general) always bugged me just enough to keep me thinking.

Let's start with Crystallized. To defeat Wojira, Nya merged with the ocean, opened herself up completely to her powers. In order to bring her back, they had to take her powers away, but they did so in a way that we already know (from Kai's experience) is not permanent. So, she does, and awfully quickly, get her powers back.

But wait. Isn't that separation from her powers is what brought her back to life to begin with? I like to give the show the benefit of the doubt, but still... Crystallized writing, amiright?

So anyway. I'm all for, after such a sudden burst of power being essentially fixed with some duct-tape and hardy faith, Nya having some kind of permanent mark and consequence from it all. It's just that, I think the situation was too dire and too powerfully magical for the consequence to only be a change in design. I need the functionality of her powers to be affected too, or, as I present in this fic, for her power to affect and represent her mental state in an actually risky way.

This isn't a jab at anyone who does otherwise, neither is this supposed to say no one has ever done this, I just really liked my concept and needed to ramble a little about it.

The other thing is: We have a lot of fics about Ninjago characters dealing with trauma from past seasons, and especially, a lot of fics about Jay dealing with Skybound trauma. Sometimes supported by Nya, or Cole, to deal with it. And I do love me some angst.

But while there seems to be a general, vague acknowledgement of how Nya died in a wedding gown, so I see Jaya art that banks on her not wearing a wedding gown if she gets married, but still... I feel like Nya's Skybound trauma is under-explored sometimes, especially compared to Jay's. And she went through a lot that season.

She was ignored, dehumanized, reduced to a face, forced into an outfit she didn't want, had to play into that role to appease to her kidnapper, forced to marry someone creepy, got possessed, used as a human shield and then died.

So yea. I don't think she's like. Fully Okay and Healthy about all that.

Sure, having a cool, strong woman character is fun, but a woman feeling hurt and needing a support network and showing any of the traits women have been associated with and shamed for throughout history shouldn't reduce how seriously she deserves to be taken.

I think we mostly get the idea! We're on a pretty smart website full of pretty smart writers and artists. But there might be someone in the fandom who hasn't yet, so I'm putting this out there anyway.

Thank you if you stuck around this far on this blatant ramble post, and I hope you liked the fic!

#ninjago #ninjago seabound #ninjago nya #ninjago cole #ninjago tsunamiduo #my fic #ninjago fanfiction #ris rambles

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woaddragoon-nadya · 10 months ago

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Predicting the end of 2.55

Just finished up the fight for Ishgard, but I haven't started crystal tower yet so I'll give my thoughts just to see what comes of them. Also just some of my thoughts on stories/characters

Spoilers for 2.0 onwards below!

1. Betrayal of the Braves

I think the leader of the Braves is going to backstab Alphinaud. Obviously he's still alive given the trailers, but I think maybe the leader turns the Braves into an evil organization? I don't see any promo materials after this that include them. Idk he for sure killed that other kid. I just don't see the benefit other than money. Maybe he's a monetarist?

2. Alphinaud is SUPER immature

Alphinaud is pissing me off. Still love him, but he is just so naive. "You guys are the absolute worst for not helping Ishgard!! 😡😡"

The Admiral (being logical) "We have to farm out jobs to WOL because we don't have enough people for our own problems? Also we literally JUST had a war that killed hundreds (if not thousands) of soldiers? That Ishgard didn't help with? WOL also just uncovered a double agent within the Flames even though Ul'dah is already on the edge of collapse? Where are we getting soldiers from??" And Alphinaud, who really shouldn't even be at this meeting, gets mad at her! Buddy this is a stupid hill to die on!!

They always say the Alphinaud is the negotiator but I'd argue like half of the other scions would be better candidates. It always is so weird to me that everyone calls him "Commander Leveilleur." He looks and acts like he's 19 (coming from a 19 year old)! Surely Papalymo, Y'shtola, Thancred, or hell even Urianger would be better? Somebody more mature with fewer anger issues.

3. Losing the Light

Also, maybe its just the RPer in me, but I really wish there was more emphasis on WoL losing the light. Hopefully that'll come after the crystal tower quests? Imagine you're the chosen one. The fabric of the universe decides to make you her sword. And some dead fuckin dragon just takes it away for no reason? The main reason anybody gives a shit about WoL is because they are so powerful and special. So the fact that we can't tell anyone that a part of us got ripped away? Minfilia goes "aw that sucks." And we just don't do anything else? Moonbryda probably would've lived if we still had the light. And we aren't IMMEDIATELY swords/wands blazing killing the thing that did that to us?

Every time my WOL shrugs when asked how she's doing I want to tell at the screen. Like "Babes, you're TRAUMATIZED. Everybody uses you for their personal benefit. You just lost like half your ability to fight the people you are famous for fighting. Say something please!" And she does not.

4. Tarturu future?

My final note: If Tarturu dies I'll riot. Idk I'm terrible with facial expressions so maybe it wasn't meant to be sinister but her send off at the end of her little quest is making me nervous.

5. Final Thoughts

I absolutely adore FFXIV, and I hope this doesn't make anybody think I don't. Most of it is great. I'm super happy to be working with Cid and his crew for the Crystal Tower because they were by far my favorite part of ARR. I've really been enjoying the 8-mans even though I fucked one up earlier by not looking up the mechanics beforehand (what a way to be introduced to tank busters lol). It's just some of the story stuff that can be a little frustrating. I know that shrugging off your trauma is kind of just the way it goes with MMORPGs but knowing that doesn't make me feel any better y'know?

#ff14 #ff14 ffxiv #ffxiv #ffxiv wol

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corailsalonblog · 7 months ago

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Hair and Beauty Salon Secrets Revealed: Insider Tips for Gorgeous Locks and Flawless Skin

Unlocking Dubai's Beauty Trends: What's Hot in Hair and Skincare

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#BeautySalonDubai #BestFacialDubai #HairAndBeautySalon #BestFacialTreatmentDubai #FacialTreatments #GlowingSkin #DesertBotanicals #SkincareRoutine #HealthySkin #FacialRefresh #DubaiSpa #SkinCareTips #BeautyInDubai #SkinCareRegimen #PricklyPearOil #CamelMilkSkincare

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9w1ft · 2 years ago

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thanks 9wing! i fully respect your interpretations of those songs as kaylor anthems - in fact, i'm reconsidering my stance on mastermind now 😅 it always felt like blank space 2.0 to me, but your analysis has helped me to see it in a different way. i am someone who is always open to multiple interpretations of the same song, so i hope our thoughts can co-exist if they're different or even contrary! instead of blown out analyses, let me share what parts of each song made me interpret it as bearding songs.

blank space -

"i can make the bad guys good for the weekend" — image control. taylor can make swifties hate or love anyone with the snap of a finger. her beards are benefitted from being with her by gaining popularity to support their works and/or to hide their own gay rumors too. once they're 'exes,' however, they're back to being the bad guys in swifties' eyes. (exceptions excluded)

the entire "cherry lips, crystal skies" verse, to me, feels as if she's trying to impress the general public with their theatrical relationship, and not quite her beau himself.

the main line "i've got a blank space baby and i'll write your name" itself, coupled with the typewriter beat, provokes imagery of bearding contracts. fun song!

cowboy like me -

her beardin' beau is hustling for the good life with stars in his eyes. "perched in the dark" makes me think that he's pretty much a very underground celebrity if we compare fame to light (another name goes up in lights - i can still make the whole lights shimmer - flashing lights). he doesn't want love, he wants a fancy car - a materialistic perk of being a well known entertainer or celebrity. taylor herself is also ambitious and she's at a point of her life where she wants to be taken seriously, so she really needs to display herself as someone with a stable love life. that's how they show 'forever' as their sweetest con.

"now you hang from my lips like the gardens of babylon" — i can't remember who, but another gaylor pointed out that this lyric provokes the imagery of a literal facial beard.

invisible string -

now this one's a bit sad, i always had a soft spot for this song and i hate to taint its innocence! anyway.

she pretty much shows how different their lives and motivations are in the industry - she wants love, he wants money. she thinks how pretty things could be if the universe aligned them, but really, she knows all too well that's very much not the case. all of this was arranged.

however, i like to interpret the "bad was the blood" verse could be a hint at karlie and their relationship, since karlie was the first person who heard 1989. although i do not know if it would make sense, but hey! that verse actually shows similarities, whereas the first verse did not.

lavender haze -

"staring at the ceiling with you" — business meeting, sitting in those formal black spinny chairs. they're both just kind of bored and staring at the ceiling, since they could technically have that employer-employee relationship.

"you don't ever say too much" — the interviews. they're sooooooo private. he's sooooo magnificently charismatic.

"you don't really read into my melancholia" / "you weren't even listening" — i could get how this could be interpreted positively, but i'm a negative nancy so i predominantly interpreted this as him not giving a shit 😅

"talk your talk and go viral, i just need this love spiral, get it off your chest, get it off my desk" — 'for the love of god, my dude, please say something a little bit more and be more convincing, i need us to be trending and to be seen as the industry titans. got it? cool, now go practise that smiling for photos exercise tree gave you and leave my office, i now need to combat the foot fetish allegations and wipe my desk clean before tree gets here.' i have a very wide imagination as you can see.

"no deal" sounds like her rejecting a (business) proposal. i also get the vibe that her team is shutting down the marriage rumors while his team is trying to boost them? not sure, just a hunch

thanks for this! i appreciate that songs can be interpreted in different ways. i vibe with a lot of what you wrote.

i did a little thinking and in my mind here are the lines i find kaylory about these songs, along with a few additional comments

invisible string

- i just want to add to what you’ve written by saying that to me the song sings like she’s listing up all this trivia that points to joe, some of which (the yogurt shop job) was cleverly planted in an interview of joe not long before folklore was released, and she sings in the chorus “isn’t it pretty to think” that there’s some connection between us that’s actually not there.

- by contrast when the music goes quiet, and she sings in a different pace and cadence, the part that begins with all the run ins, she mentions the dive bar from delicate, past mistakes and chains, changing weather, all of which is imagery that comes up in what we consider kaylor songs. plus, she closes off the line with one single thread of gold tied me to you which i believe is both in contrast to an invisible string, and illustrative of a color very often associated with karlie. this one section of the song feels like the truth hidden within the story.

cowboy like me

- eyes full of stars (this carries over from starry eyes sparking my darkest night, from the song call it what you want, where “call it” sounds like “karlie” a lot)

- the skeletons in both our closets plotted hard to fuck this up (this really feels applicable to taylor and karlie’s situation as we all have a sense of the skeletons in their closets, whereas i don’t really have a read on what skeletons joe could possibly have in his)

- that was all before i locked it down (there is a recurring theme of taylor and karlie putting their public relationship on lockdown starting in fall 2016, the thing with the gold heart locket, the love lock bridge in paris etc)

-idk man, the gardens of babylon line conjures up a… different kind of garden 🙈 in a sort of wear-you-like-a-necklace sorta way, if you catch my drift

lavender haze

- talk your talk and go viral (karlie has had more than a few viral moments in recent years, whereas i cant recall a single time joe has ever said anything memeable)

- i get the bearding interpretation of this song for sure because of lyrics like all they keep asking me is if i’m gonna be your bride which point to the you being who the public assumes taylor will marry. and the points you bring up work with this interpretation well, i think it’s a solid way to listen to the song and i’m not opposed to it,

-what makes it kaylory for me is taylor’s explanation of the song as a part of album promo. how she talks about how it’s been hard for her and her lover dodging weird rumors since 2016, and how lavender haze is about wanting to do anything to protect a love. she also references a mad men episode where john hamm’s character talks about wanting to have a relationship with ‘betty’ — a name kaylors have associated with karlie for some time now (karlie’s middle name is elizabeth). there are other things about the song that fit into a particularly kaylor interpretation i have but i get the feeling it’s my own little silly interpretation so i think i’ll keep to myself.

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