#first time collaborating on anything

[cursed-crow]

Dating sim screenshots I collaborated with @banana-anabun on for Titan's Hand, the Neon Fantasy Horror D&D game we play together. (She made all of the background art and UI elements, I made the character portraits and item icons.)

[abyssalzones]

i keep seeing news about a potential gravity falls reboot. as someone who very much despises reboots and who thinks gravity falls ended very well (it's something gf has been REPEATEDLY praised for,) do you think there's actually a chance they'd legitimately reboot it?

I watched a bit of hana's interview with alex hirsch out of (somewhat morbid) curiosity and from what I could glean there, it seems less likely gravity falls is going to get a legitimate "reboot" any time soon and more that there's potential for spinoffs when alex's contract with netflix expires. my honest prediction is that the book of bill is a prelude to more if it sells well, as it's very possible they're testing the waters to see if gravity falls nostalgia-hype is alive and well.

as much as I dislike reboots- and I have some strong feelings about the book of bill as a concept- I actually wouldn't be mad about some of the concepts alex has in his back pocket, such as a miniseries set on the stan o' war, or potentially more comics. I criticize elements of writing and what's being done with the story now because, obviously, I love gravity falls dearly, and I do think it could be adapted or continued faithfully... in the right hands, under the right circumstances. reboots exceeding the production of new, director-driven stories is symptomatic of a larger problem in the entertainment industry, but I don't think they're the disease themselves. people love strong stories, y'know? I would be a massive hypocrite if I acted like there was something wrong with wanting more, I've been actively making art for this show since I was 12.

so, do I think they're going to fully reboot the show, take us back to the mystery shack for "summer 2013" or potentially something further ahead in the future? ...mm, probably not. the series ended at two seasons for a reason, and in the age of, yes, pointless cash-grab reboots in a time where the entertainment industry is hopelessly dependent on selling established IPs, I respect that decision a lot. but I feel like it's inevitable there will be more gravity falls in some form or another in the future, which I honestly wouldn't have guessed if not for alex's words himself and the release of a new book this july.

whether or not it's any good... I guess we'll have to wait and see?

[fragmentedblade]

Just how big was Teng Xiao if Cirrus calls Jing Yuan a "lightweight"???

[oh-katsuki]

remind me to never ask ppl in college for favors ever again jessusssss...

[mrbingley]

i am white knuckle resisting the urge to ask if anyone wants a sneak peek at my unfinished existential horror interactive/online fiction story b/c i want constant validation but i am forbidding myself from asking this b/c i know it’ll delay me finishing the story b/c the possible compliments would sustain me for days.

[reyalvr]

SHE’S MINE | 00

CATCH ME, I’VE FALLEN IN LOVE FOR THE FIRST TIME.

synopsis ┊ thrust into the spotlight, ken sato had easily become the next big thing tokyo had seen in decades. alongside his fame came the inevitable string of rumors, of which sprung forth scandals and discrediting information against his image. of course the obvious and most rational solution would be to address them like every other celebrity, but this was ken sato; nothing would ever be rational with him, which is how you wound up with a ring on your finger and the sato name in your papers.

genre ┊ fake dating, fake marriage, idiots-to-lovers, friends-to-lovers, mild angst, chaotic fluff, smut

pairing ┊ ken sato x fem-PA!reader, ken sato x fake-wife!reader

warnings ┊ mild cursing, eventual smut, mentions of alcohol, all events in ultraman: rising take place a year after kenji moves back to japan, RUMORS isn’t related to anything that happens in this series

word count ┊ 798

author’s note ┊ YAY i finally wrote it! i really love the fake dating/marriage convenience trope and i’ve been itching to write it with kenji. this is highly inspired by one my favorite books of all time, terms & conditions by lauren asher! if you enjoy fake dating i highly recommend reading it. as mentioned at the top, this is only the prologue! i'll be putting out part one and the series masterlist asap hehe... as always, happy reading!

prev. | next

SOMETIMES YOU WONDERED IF ANYTHING YOU SAID EVER STUCK WITH KEN. For the past year and a half, you had the supposed “dream life” that every assistant yearned for. It confused you, really, as you tried to ponder on what part of your job was envious. Were the late nights drafting NDA breaches so desirable? What about the press statements after altercations, were those résumé worthy? You let out a deep sigh as you watched Ken from the TV in his dressing room, crossing your arms as you sunk deeper into the couch.

He was on a press tour for his latest collaboration, his overconfident persona charming everyone left and right. You had to physically stop yourself from rolling your eyes when he used his signature flair to charm the show’s host. At least he was sticking to the script… for the most part. He wore the product, threw in a few adlibs, and of course, flirted. Be it a talk show host or a random photographer on the street, Ken always found a way to leave people smitten with him- save except you. 

It’s not like you were actively trying to hate him, he just made it so easy. At first you thought it was just some awkward phase, like he was just trying to adjust to working with a new team. But then he just kept doing the same things over and over again. A brawl with an opposing team member? Just another Sunday night. A rumor about having a fling with yet another supermodel? Sounds just about right. 

“I mean of course I have to thank my team,” Ken’s voice cut through your train of thought. “It was a dream of mine to play for the Giants as a kid, now I actually get to do it.”

Tone it down, asshole. You thought to yourself, noting the sarcasm laced in his words. Of course the general public wouldn’t have caught on, but you had no doubt his coach and the other players would. Then again, he’d been relatively untouchable because of his rank in the sports world. You poked your tongue into your cheek, shaking your head as you sat through the rest of his interview. The clock on the wall counted down the remaining time, the bright red numbers casting a reflection on the screen. Two minutes left, and all he had to do was to keep the act up…

…Until he didn’t. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what was about to happen next. 

“Now I don’t want to hold here any longer, but you know I have to ask it,” The host teased, almost like an overexcited child ready to tattle. “Any special someone back home?” 

Ken chuckled, just like he usually did when asked the question. “Cheeky question,” He paused and grinned, his eyebrow raised slightly as he shrugged his shoulders. “What if there was?” 

“Well, is there?” The host pushed, his tone eager to have the Ken Sato answer such a juicy question. He gestured toward the crowd before he continued. “I mean there are a lot of fans here today who would love to know more…” 

“Yeah? And if I said yes, then what?” He replied, his smile growing brighter and his eyes shining. 

The crowd cheered even harder, itching to find out the truth. You shared the same sentiments, trying to figure out what the hell Ken was up to now. Did he have a girlfriend? If he did, why didn’t anyone know about it? You stood up straight now, your right hand deathly gripping the remote. What the hell do you have up your sleeve, Kenji Sato? Your inner voice seemed to yell as you waited for him to speak up. 

“I mean only time will tell, yeah?” The host replied, leaning back in his seat. “C’mon Ken, it’s not nice to keep secrets.”

Ken mimicked the host’s moves, leaning back into his sofa chair as well. He shrugged his shoulders, licking his lips as he fiddled with his fingers. He bit the inside of his cheek, and though it was brief you caught it. You knew that look; his look of contemplation. Your grip on the remote was still taut as your breathing seemed to quicken the longer he waited. Granted it was only a few seconds, but those seconds felt like hours. 

He tilted his head slightly then, his eyes staring directly at the camera. It slowly zoomed closer to focus entirely on him, and he let out a small laugh before he finally replied. His gaze was strong, and it almost felt like he was actually looking at you.

“Yeah, yeah I do.” He finally said, throwing in a lovesick smile for good measure. “And she’s the best damn thing in my life right now.”

reyalvr © 2024 … do not repost, alter, or steal my work.

[prickly-paprikash]

Pushing aside the fact that I am, quite possibly, a Kendrick fan—disregarding my biases, I think Drake needs to stop. Push Ups was a good diss. Surface level, vapid, but it possessed that mean, petty spirit that carries a diss track all the way. Even bringing up accusations that are, realistically speaking, unlikely still works because a diss is supposed to show just how much you hate a person and how cleverly you can bring it.

Taylor Made was weird. I get that it was a strategy. Drop the main diss first and then drop this one to really prod at Kendrick. Using Pac and Snoop AI voices sucks though. Distilling Kendrick as Taylor's underling also doesn't work because Kendrick only collaborated with her once (twice when they remade Bad Blood) and that's it. Meanwhile Drake is out here always looking for new, up and coming artists to pounce on their trends or cling to established artists. Then it got taken down, because of course it would have been. You used 2Pac's voice. Did you really think his estate, his family, wouldn't do anything?

So he bought Pac's ring and used his voice without permission. More and more we see just how much of a vulture Drake is.

And then Euphoria drops.

Your first diss was met with solid reactions. Your second got taken down. Kendrick drops on a random hot Tuesday, and in a matter of hours surpasses your numbers that took weeks to accumulate. Kendrick did that. Euphoria was also harsh, clever, and sounded so good that people kept replaying it over and over again. Once more, Kendrick schools you.

A few insiders then say that Drake will drop that night. Right after. But he then allegedly gets cold feet. A few hours later from when Drake was supposedly ready to drop but backs out, Kendrick drops 6:16 in LA.

In your previous disses, you begged Kendrick to drop something with quintuple entendres. Euphoria did that. But he took it a step further by naming his second diss 6:16 in LA.

June 16: Father's day. Referencing the fact that Drake has been proven to be a deadbeat father.

June 16, 1971: Tupac's Birthday. Kendrick idolizes him. Drake steals from him.

June 16, 2019: First episode of Euphoria drops. A show Drake is listed as a producer on. A show about underage girls entering a life of sex, substance abuse, and more. Things that Drake has been accused of repeatedly in the past.

June 16, 2011: in June 2, 2011, Kendrick posted on his twitter that there will be a concert at Toronto on 6/16. Allegedly this is where Drake and Kendrick first met.

6:16 AM: The time of release for this track.

6:16: Multiple possible Bible verses, given Kendrick's Christian background.

Other claims felt like reaches though, so I'll stick to that.

The final two lines of 6:16 also reference the Michael Jackson, R. Kelly, and their song "You Are Not Alone". Drake, who has always claimed he is Michael Jackson or at the very least his equal/successor, is now tied to him in a way he does not want. Because we know all of the dirt that came out after MJ's death. We all know what R. Kelly was sent to prison for. And we all know what Drake has been accused of multiple times.

Kendrick also alludes to the fact that you have a leak in your circle, Drake.

So Drake drops Family Matters. A scathing 7 minute song that makes fun of the GKMC van. Saying that Kendrick's daughter isn't his. Saying that his wife cheats on him with security. Saying that he beats his wife.

Now, these are enormous accusations levied. But Kendrick has responded before, years ago, that the DV accusations were false. He has also always been open about his faults. Adultery. Sex addiction. Insecurity. God complex. Kendrick, for better or worse, has always laid out nearly every aspect of his younger life on his songs. This also helped by the fact that in both Euphoria and 6:16, Kendrick says that Drake has spent millions on finding dirt on him but came up with nothing. Again, these accusations can still be proven true and if so, Kendrick needs to be held accountable for them.

But if not? Then Drake just adds another to the pile of "He's a liar and a master manipulator."

Drake also posts a Parody on his Insta that gains little to no attention because 30 minutes after dropping Family Matters and supposedly going on his victory lap, Kendrick drops meet the grahams.

Another thing. 6:16's cover was a glove. That meant nothing to us, the audience. meet the grahams makes it make sense by zooming out of the glove and showing off a shirt and drugs that Drake supposedly uses. Drake has not had any receipts with his accusations against Kendrick. Kendrick puts Drake's supposed prescription, his full name, on a bottle of Ozempic. Kendrick, for now, seems to make good on his threat. OvO, Drake's company, is full of leaks. And they're leaking it straight to Kendrick Lamar.

Nearly 24 hours later, Kendrick drops Not Like Us.

Euphoria was a general character dissection and assassination of Drake: Insecure about his identity as a biracial man. Culture Vulture. Blaccent user. Code switcher. Fake abs. Womanizer. Misogynist. Using black features just to feel black enough. A deadbeat dad that knows nothing of raising a child. And even revokes Drake's ability to use the N-Word (I have no stake in that I am Asian so I will keep my brown mouth shut for that).

6:16 in LA was an ominous threat that slowly reveals that Kendrick has insider information on Drake. That he is ready to leak so much more should Drake continue.

meet the grahams is a brutal open letter to Drake, his parents, and even to Adonis, Drake's son. Saying that Kendrick could be a better mentor to Adonis. Saying that Drake abandoned you and that's not your fault. Don't be like your father—whatever anyone says, for better or worse, you are a black man and don't code switch just to make yourself feel better. He says that Drake failed his mother for what he did to women. Saying that Drake's father is the cause of his gambling issues. Drake is a body shamer. Leaving the mother of his children to rot. And of course, the reveal that Drake has a secret daughter, the same way Pusha T revealed Drake has a son. Adonis.

And of course, now. Not Like Us. Where Kendrick goes all in on one topic that he has alluded to in every diss track before. Drake is a groomer. A pedophile.

I am sick. I should not be tuning into this beef. But my fever can go ahead and end me, I need to know how this ends.

[leftmysoulbythesideoftheroad]

we’ve talked about switching around who dms our games, but my sister said she wants to watch me do it before she tries, and now i’m feeling the pressure. all i’m going to do is try to channel johnny chiodini, hopefully that’s enough lol

[renthony]

It's darkly amusing to me that some people thought my mom didn't "discipline" me enough as a kid, were not shy about making sure both she AND I knew it, and now as an adult I'm one of the only people in my friend group who still wants anything to do with their parents. The proof is in the pudding, as they say.

When I was a kid, I broke a ceramic soap dispenser. I burst into tears and was terrified that I was going to be in trouble. My mom told me that it was okay, because accidents happen sometimes, and the important thing was that I didn't do it on purpose and apologized.

When someone else I know was a kid, they broke a dish on accident and got screamed at and guilt tripped. To this day, they have to push down a panic attack at the sound of broken glass, and have had to actively work on healing from that trauma. They will always have to carry that.

I think maybe it's not MY mom who fucked up in the "how to discipline your child" department. Quite frankly, I think the idea of "disciplining children" is fucked up and deeply harmful on a fundamental level.

When a kid does something wrong, you have to teach them how to fix it and do better. Humans are messy and complicated and we don't know everything there is to know just by being born. Children are learning how to be human beings, and that's a really hard thing to learn.

Kids question and fight back against authority that mistreats them, but someone treating them like a human being with human emotions is usually going to have a lot of success. Kids just want to be respected, and it's our job as adults to give them that basic human dignity. The world is utterly terrifying, and made scarier when all the grown-ups seem to hate you and wish you would just shut up and go away, even the ones that claim they want you around.

Kids can be mean, because they're still learning how to socialize and communicate and collaborate. Sometimes you have to give them time to cool off, and sometimes you have to redirect them. Sometimes you have to be firm. Sometimes you have to be an adult, and hone your conflict de-escalation and resolution skills. None of that requires punishment.

And if a child does something truly cruel and fucked up and shitty, and it hurts someone in a big way? My first question isn't "what should their punishment be," my first question is always, "who taught this kid that, and is this child in active danger from them?"

[inkskinned]

"the curtains weren't blue on purpose. why should we care?"

my love! let me ask you this - did you eat breakfast today? this tiny moment in your life. just think about it. did you?

for some of you, the answer is yes and for some of you it is technically and for some of you it is does coffee count. some of you reached for cereal or gmo-free overnight oats or frozen waffles or 3-day-old pizza. sometimes we eat the same thing, every day, for weeks. i get tired of eggs randomly, only to go back to craving them desperately. i'm cuban; i take my coffee like my father showed me, very milky and sweet.

some of us ate in a hurry. some of us hate eating breakfast but if we don't we will get nauseous later. some of us took our meds first or took our meds after. some of us have a kitchen 5 feet wide and sometimes it's the biggest room in the house. some of us are confident there will be food in the pantry and some of us flinch and say well, the paycheck is coming. some of us turn on a podcast while we eat or we scroll our phones or write in our diaries.

some of us are choosing, specifically, not to eat breakfast. some of us are too busy. some of us are pretending we "just forgot," but we are ignoring the warning signs that everything feels too-heavy. some of us are so consumed with anxiety or grief that we can't eat. some of us can't stand up long enough to make our coffee. some of us have no table to sit down and eat.

i cannot tell you what an artist "meant" by their choices. but they did have to make a choice, conscious or otherwise, to give you information. to give you a little bit more light. each of these choices are little stars of data; connecting speckles for you to weave through, drawing a line.

you cannot use a mirror in a dark room. for some of us; we will not care that the curtains are blue, because that will just be a data point and not enough light to see by. for some of us, the blue curtains will be the same as our childhood bedroom. it will make us seasick. for some of us, blue will be the color of frostbite. it might look like a pixel up close; but from a distance, oh! the picture blooms.

i cannot tell you what will stick out for you. what will carry meaning. some of you will read the sentence "i didn't have breakfast today" and say "this means nothing." some of you will read that and say "oh, me neither." some of you will say "this means the character is probably a little grouchy." some of you will say "oh, i wonder if they're okay. why didn't they eat anything?" ... art is a mirror. i am holding hands with you, over space and time, and asking you to feel something with me.

i want you to read my work and find a blue pair of curtains. i want you to read my work and find things in it that i never imagined placing. i have no way of knowing what will resonate with you, that's true. and maybe i just was hungry while i wrote this, and thinking about the eggs in my fridge. but if you found meaning, that meaning is yours. it cannot be erased just because i didn't "intend" it. you created a different world by interpreting my work. it's collaborative! that's beautiful! that's stunning!

just! imagine looking at the night sky and saying - it's stupid to have a favorite constellation or a favorite star. they're just there.

because here's the thing - across centuries and cultures, we look up. we still find meaning in the stars. these beautiful, lovely scattered accidents. are you looking? they call. and we look back and say oh! of course we are!

[yanderenightmare]

Bakugou Katsuki

♡ TW: implied and/or present elements of dubcon/noncon, yandere, kidnapping, captive reader, quirkless reader, mentioned death of important character, discrimination, drawn comparisons between quirklessness and disabilities, implied bakudeku, drugging, needles, mentions of hypochondriasis, also angst

♡ manga spoilers in a way, but also not really. anyway, read at your own discretion.

♡ gn reader

Sharp crimson eyes assess the fresh scrapes and swelling ruining your soft skin. A deep scowl on his face.

“Tch—look at all this…” he grumbles disapprovingly to no one but himself—too upset with you to acknowledge you, yet treating you no different than if you were glass. “These are gonna last weeks.”

You’d tried running away again—tripped and slipped up all on your own, stumbling through hallways and tumbling down stairs in your panic, only to stop short at the locked door—bolted and padlocked beyond all sane reason.

He was disappointed with you, sure. But that’s not the reason for his current anger.

“Sit there while I get bandages,” he orders, getting up from his crouch, pointing a strict finger at you in threat. “Dare move, and it’ll be bed rest for a whole ‘nother week.”

Bakugou’s obsession with your quirkless nature started a couple of months ago…

It was okay at first—he was hardly the first person you’d met who addressed you with patronizing resolve—but he got weird about it quickly.

You worked at another hero agency he was going to be collaborating with for a big upcoming mission. You weren’t a sidekick or anything grand like that, but a simple pencil-pusher—because they need those too, you know? And you liked your job. You got to work along with some of the greatest heroes in the world, see them up close, and help them out with those things they didn’t have time for—paperwork like budget justifications and incidence reports. Yeah, you might have been somewhat of a pushover, but hey, the salary was good, the environment was lively, and even though you don’t have one yourself, you got to see some really amazing quirks in action. It was, out of what you could hope for, your dream job.

The place was in a real buzz when they heard the number one hero would be joining them for a couple of months. You were excited, too—it wasn’t often your smaller agency would undertake big missions—especially not ones that required such big hero names.

DynaMight wasn’t one to share much of anyone’s enthusiasm. He was strict and down to business and otherwise had a major pet peeve for unnecessary rabble loitering around. He’d stopped mid-meeting at the sight of you, seeing as you were obviously no fieldworker, and had gone as far as to demand you tell him your value as if your presence had been some big distracting nuisance.

Luckily, your Pro-Hero coworkers had stepped in on your behalf and told him you were a transcriber keeping track for later reference. It was probably only a slip-up that they’d added the fact that you were quirkless.

You don’t hold it against them, or well… you did a little, but you couldn’t really blame them either. Evoking the explosion hero’s rage must have made them flustered and desperate to play any sympathy card available to them in the spur of the moment.

Of course, it wasn’t their card to play, nor would you ever have played it yourself, but if the humility was worth anything, it successfully managed to calm the top hero down. Actually, he didn’t say anything for the rest of the meeting. And if you hadn’t been so busy taking notes, you would have noticed his lingering stare.

A couple more incidents had occurred in the office after that. Among others, he’d caught an incoming paper airplane your coworker had thrown your way—stepped right in out of nowhere and cremated it with a controlled explosion before it could hit you.

You’d been speechless for a moment—the entire desk area along with you—confused by his strangeness and, at least in your case, even somewhat appalled by his utter lack of consideration—in your office space, no less. Seriously, top hero or not, you can’t just barge in and incinerate stuff?

“That was an important document,” you'd informed—brow quirked—no regard to how offending him could probably make grounds to have you fired. You'd only slightly regretted it after having said it. But geez, you thought—shouldn’t the top hero have some semblance worth of self-control?

“You shouldn’t be playing around,” he'd stated—tone just as sour as the stink of burned paper tainting the air. “Someone might get hurt.”

You’d almost scoffed at him but had held your tongue until he walked away.

Back then, you’d thought it was an offhand insult directed at you and your respected coworker—that the explosion hero had just called you both unprofessional to your faces, like the biggest scumbag to ever walk in through your humble doors. But looking back at it now, you realize he probably might have meant it in its most sincere regard.

His over-protectiveness knows no limit, you’ve learned—calling it patronizing would be a joke in comparison. He treats you as if anything in proximity might make you shatter by association—like a bubble made from the most thinned-out solution of water and soap.

You’d woken up in your well-prepared pillow room shortly after your agency’s collaboration with DynaMight had ended. It didn’t take long for you to piece together his sickness after that.

At first, you’d thought it was a more severe case of benevolent discrimination. After all, most people treat you with some amount of pity after being privy to your being quirkless—treating it no less than a disability of sorts.

But Bakugou’s view of you was increasingly more unsettling than that—suffering from some type of delusion that has him fully convinced you’re utterly inept without him.

In some odd ways, it would have been better if he was just faking—if he was doing it all, treating you as an inferior for some sick sense of deriving his own sadistic pleasure. But no, you think he actually fully and whole-heartedly believes you’re a danger to yourself and that anything, if not monitored in the perfect conditions of the controlled environment he’s established for you, will result in your fatal illness or harm.

He’s a full-sworn hypochondriac concerning you—even as he himself dregs home some of the worst injuries you’ve ever seen as if it were nothing but a splinter in the rough of his worn soles. Meanwhile, he’s scared that if you leave the bed without socks on, it will give you pneumonia.

You were sure you had a couple of control freaks at the agency, but nothing measures up to Bakugou’s mania. How he dresses you is one thing—how he feeds you is another. An assortment of pills first, all vitamins and supplements, a spoon of cod liver oil, then a balanced meal reminding you of those tragic trays you’re served at the hospital—four times a day without fail—breakfast, lunch, dinner, then supper—he also keeps track of all the water he’s decided you need to drink—all things perfectly regulated according to your size and age.

Then there’s the sleep schedule with a set number of eight hours—no more and no less. Exercise is also necessary—workout plans designed and dictated by him. Nothing too severe, though—he’s afraid your quirkless constitution won’t be able to handle anything beyond thirty minutes max.

And then, of course, there’s hygiene.

You sobbed and fought hysterically the first time he’d washed you—in the tub with him after he’d stripped you naked. In fact, you’d made such a fuss he’d had to fetch a sedative.

Even in your drowsed state of complete numb delirium, you’d still heard how he’d fretted over it—the tiny needle hole he’d torn in your arm—as if that was the real violation, even as he’d thoroughly molested the entirety of your body with different cloths and sponges for no shorter than a full hour.

You’d been terrified, of course—horrified by his meticulous routines and odd nature. Yet strangely, despite his rigid rules, he won't ever get violent to enforce them.

You had expected it of him—being known for his brutality—the hero without mercy—the symbol of retribution. You know he's no stranger to leaving the battlefield bloody. But with you, he won't so much as harm a single strand of hair from your head.

He will instead bargain with you, sometimes for hours. Eat what he tells you, and you’ll watch a movie afterward. Go to sleep, and he'll escort you out to see the sun for a few hours in the morning. Let him ensure you wash correctly, and he’ll allow you to dry and dress yourself.  

And in those moments when you leave him no other option, he subdues you through the help of a needle again and never ever by manhandling you—it was as if that weren’t even a viable option. It was obvious he regarded the sedative as the uttermost last resort, always muttering on about chemicals and whatnot under his breath. It seemed he would rather avoid it at all costs—but also, that if it stood between allowing the disturbance of the schedule he felt was needed to keep you healthy and forcibly putting you to sleep, he knew without a doubt which option he considered the lesser evil.

He was certain of it all. And at some point or another… you had even begun sharing his fear of attracting some sort of illness yourself—even something so small as a common cold. But no, it wasn’t the same. Yours was not a fear of the actual disease itself but of what he might do if he caught you sneezing and coughing. You could only imagine the upgraded pill table he’d have in store for you then and what other measures he’d instill due to his excessive ideas of necessity.

And that’s why you’d tried running again even after what must have been a couple of months since the last time. The thought of his inane insanity having affected you so badly you’d started playing along was all too much a painful realization—you’d felt compelled to reject it—run away even when you knew you’d never be able to make the door open if you could even reach it.

You knew it would be in vain, and even though running headfirst into something you know isn’t going to work might be the first signs of madness—you’re still relieved to have found some remaining worth of fight still in you, even if it couldn’t amount to anything.

He comes back as quickly as he’d left, still muttering to himself, cross about the damage you’ve sustained—like you’re one of the collector’s items he keeps up on the mantle in his office—green costume and a big bright smile. You remember the exposés—they’d been rather gruesome, about the hero who’d died in battle not so long ago—a couple of years back now, give or take. He had the number-one spot before DynaMight.

The current top hero retakes his spot at your feet, sighing deeply once he starts dabbing your minor bruises with disinfectant, followed by unnecessary bandages. You’re silent as you watch him work—all so diligently as he does everything, cutting no corners and running zero lights.

His efforts, done with the very epitome of care, all disgust you.

Your lip curls. “I’m not what you think I am…”

His keen glare stops obsessing over your wounds to look up at your face—he’d already tended to the ones he could see, but he’s sure more would blossom and swell in a couple of hours. It’s beyond worrisome—but it’s his fault in any case. He should move you to a place without stairs—it’s way too dangerous for someone as accident-prone as you.

You make eye contact, and his anger fades at the sight of tears welling in your corners—softening as if he’s convinced even a harsh look will have you shatter in his hands.

“I’m quirkless. But ’m not weak.” You’re sure you preached much of the same back at the beginning of your stay, though then you’d hurdled it at him—screamed it from the top of your lungs until you’d lost your voice, unknowing that it’s a statement he’s heard a hundred times over spoken by different lips from yours.

It’s a funny thing almost… how your eyes remind him of his—so soft and yet brimming with determination—a determination that will only get you killed.

He’d put faith in those words before, believed them beyond himself, and it had cost him everything.

But even so, he can’t fault you for believing in them yourself… they’re what makes him love you, after all.

He smiles gently—a most gut-churning sight from the all-scowling man.

“I’m sure you think so.”

He doesn’t relay it with any type of harshness but pity—gross concern and better judgment—overwhelming oodles of it in his garnet eyes, weighing them down with something so awful as compassion and… you don’t exactly know… but it looks like grief.

♡ part two ♡ more thoughts on this ♡ BAKUGOU KATSUKI masterlist ♡ BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA masterlist

[merletka]

Collaborated with amazing writer @alexcors and illustrated her fanfic about Damian Wayne. You can read it bellow! 💚

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

– Concussion, multiple beatings, fracture of the collarbone, two ribs and the radius of the right arm, with multiple fragments. Do you have anything to say to that, Robin?

– This dealer raised his hand himself, covering his worthless face. What?

– You beat the suspect to a pulp! Batman barked at his son. – No patrols until Cantelli is transferred from the intensive care unit to the general ward.

– But…

– That's all.

Damian clenched his teeth, but at the last moment decided not to fight with his father over a small dealer. Cantelli wasn't worth it. And therefore, having drowned himself, the boy just fell asleep.

***

The morning began with the usual five o'clock wake-up, a workout with pruning the squalid park art that Damian disapproved of in his garden. And he was already tired of explaining to Pennyworth that the enemy could be hiding behind large figures! Then a walk with Titus on a leash, Alfred the cat on his shoulder (because the mustachioed one did not want to wake up in any way) and a red-haired squeaking lump in his hands.

The kitten was dragged by a Red Hood a couple of days ago, startling Damian at first by pronouncing his full name without hesitation (few people in the family could pronounce Hafid ibn Ksufash Dami al Ghul even from the third time), and then by an attack of compassion for the animal. However, the boy quickly recovered from the shock, named the red kitten Roy Harper and now did not miss the opportunity to tease brother with the phrase "You gave me your accomplice, Todd."

By eight in the morning, Damian had time to check on the bat cow, comb Goliath, lose the nimble red Harper and find him sleeping peacefully in the cowshed. In general, Batman's heir successfully redid all his affairs, even phoned each Teen Titan individually and gave valuable instructions. On little things like different time zones, young Wayne habitually waved his hand, and everyone also grabbed a moral slap on the back of the head for trying to be indignant:

– Do it, Beast!

– Buzz me here again, Bug!

– The aliens were not given a word.

– Witch!

Damian belatedly realized that arguing with Raven was not worth it, because the importance of portals to any part of the world is difficult to overestimate. Fortunately, he knew about the weakness of every member of his team, and in Raven's case, it was sweets. Especially his sweets, with honey and spicy notes, which the girl fell in love with from the first bite. He will have to share again… She's definitely a witch!

At nine o'clock sharp, Pennyworth served breakfast, with tea in fine china, brown sugar, a slice of lemon and... an envelope?

- You have received an invitation, Master Damian.

- It's not interesting, - the boy muttered, finished with the meal and dryly told him not to disturb him. He was going to decide the fate of the world here, and they came with some kind of invitations!

However, the plan to destroy all (crossed out) almost all people did not come to mind, but the world itself lay perfectly on paper with watercolor paints, fortunately the view from the window was conducive to this. Up to a certain point.

– Todd!

- Hello to you too, Gremlin, - the Red Hood replied, climbing into his brother's bedroom through the window, while unsuccessfully clinging to the tulle with the toe of his boot.

- Pennyworth will bury you for this.

– Yes, yes, and will plant roses from above. Not that I mind much, but that's not the point right now. Get ready to go out.

Damian took a deep breath and unleashed his entire supply of Arabic obscenities on his brother, knowing full well that Jason would understand him. Unfortunately, the pressure of the negativity did not take him back out the window, he had to take up a katana.

– Put the skewer down, shorty, the meat has just been sent to marinate.

– Will you leave on your own or will you be thrown out in parts?!

– Shut up and listen to me, - Todd barked, casually showing off his pistols with the safety off. – In short, Alfie organizes a family get-together, with meat and without a fight. Dad promised to be, I'll bring a replacement, the Gotham crime storm in a thong will come running himself. You got the simplest thing – to lift your little ass off the chair and walk to the place. You can take the menagerie with you.

- I'm not going to any gatherings with my father," Damian muttered, but he put away his saber. – So you can get out and report your failed mission. I'm not leaving my room today, basically!

- No questions,– Jason agreed surprisingly easily. - But if you walk out the door, you're going to hang out with everyone, okay?

– Tt.

–That's settled,– Jason grinned, ducked out the window and disappeared.

Damian managed to exhale with relief, when suddenly something buzzing flew over the windowsill. Titus reacted first, barking loudly at the wasp's nest rolling on the floor!

- You're dead, Todd! - Damian yelled, unceremoniously grabbing the cat and rushing out the door with him and the dog.

***

- No corpses,– Grayson repeated calmly but firmly (for the fifth time!).

- I'll beat him up so that no Lazarus Pit will help, - the boy grumbled into the phone, the call to which stopped him from righteous revenge.

– Alfred said it clearly, without a fight. Let's get together with the whole family, have a nice time, have a delicious meal.

– Tt.

– We have chosen a picturesque place by the lake, you will like it.

–Okay, - the Batman heir finally gave up. – But only because painting was part of my plans today.

– It's wonderful, – judging by the sound, Dick broke into his trademark smile. – You will draw a beautiful landscape.

– I'll paint it! Artists paint with paints, you idiot.

– And I love you, little brother.

– Tt.

Author: @alexcors

[jessica-problems]

Seeing @thydungeongal constantly wrestling with people interpreting her posts about D&D in ways that seem completely alien to me has convinced me that there are actually multiple completely distinct activities both being referred to as "playing D&D" Before we begin, I want to stress that I'm not saying one of these groups is Playing The Game Wrong or anything, but there seems to be a lot of confusion and conflict caused by people not being aware of the distinction. In fact, either one works just fine if everyone's on the same page. So far, I think I've identified at least two main groups. And nobody seems to realize the distinction between these groups even exists. The first group of people think of "Playing D&D" as, well, more or less like any other board game. Players read the whole rulebook all the way through, all the players follow the instructions, and the gameplay experience is determined by what the rules tell each player to do. This group thinks of the mechanics as, not exactly the *whole* game, but certainly the fundamental skeleton that everything else is built on top of. People in the second group think of "Playing D&D" as referring to, hanging out with their friends, collaboratively telling a story inspired by some of the elements in the rulebooks, maybe rolling some dice to see what happens when they can't decide. This group thinks of the mechanics of the game as, like... a spice to sprinkle on top of the story to mix things up. (if you belong to this second group, and think I'm explaining it poorly, please let me know, because I'm kind of piecing things together from other people saying things I don't understand and trying to reverse engineer how they seem to be approaching things.) I think this confusion is exacerbated by the fact that Wizards of the Coast markets D&D as if these are the same thing. They emphatically are not. the specific rules laid out of the D&D rulebooks actually direct players to tell a very specific kind of story. You can tell other stories if you ignore those rules (which still counts as "playing D&D" under the second definition, but doesn't under the first)And I think people in both groups are getting mad because they assume that everyone is also using their definition. For example, there's a common argument that I've seen play out many times that goes something like this:

A: "How do I mod D&D to do [insert theme here]?" B: "D&D is really not built for that, you should play [other TTRPG] that's designed for it instead" A: "But I don't want to learn a whole new game system!" B: "It will be easier to just learn a whole new system than mod D&D to do that." A: "whatever, I'll just mod D&D on my own" And I think where this argument comes from is the two groups described above completely talking past each other. No one understands what the other person is trying to say. From A's perspective, as a person in the second group, it sounds like A: "Anyone have some fun inspirations for telling stories about [insert theme here]?" B: "You can't sit around a table with your friends and tell a story about that theme! That's illegal." A: "But we want to tell a story about this theme!" B: "It's literally impossible to do that and you're a dumb idiot baby for even thinking about it." A: "whatever, jerk, I'll figure it out on my own."

--- Whereas, from B's perspective, the conversation sounds like A: "How do I change the rules of poker to be chess, and not be poker?" B: "uhhh, just play chess?" A: "But I already know how to player poker! I want to play poker, but also have it be chess!" B: "what the hell are you talking about? What does that even mean. They're completely different games." A: "I'm going to frankenstein these rules together into some kind of unplayably complex monster and you can't stop me!" ---

So both people end up coming away from the conversation thinking the other person is an idiot. And really, depending on how you concieve of what it means to "play D&D" what is being asked changes considerably. If you're only planning to look through the books for cool story inspiration, maybe borrow a cool little self contained sub-system here or there, then yeah, it's very possible to steal inspiration for your collaborative story from basically anywhere. Maybe some genres are kind of an awkward fit together, but you can make anything work with a little creativity.

If, however, you are thinking of the question in terms of frankensteining two entire board games together, then it becomes a massively difficult or even outright nonsensical idea. For example, for skill checks, the game Shadowrun has players roll a pool of several d6 at once, then count up how many rolled above a target value to see how well a character succeeded at a task. The whole game is full of specific rules about adding or removing dice from the pool, effects happening if you roll doubles, rerolling only some of the dice, and all sorts of other things that simply do not translate to rolling a single d20 for skill checks. On a basic level, the rules of the games work very differently. Trying to make them compatible would be much harder than just learning a new game from scratch. Now, neither of these approaches is exactly *wrong*, I guess, but personally, I find the rules of TTRPGs to be fascinating and worth taking the time to engage with all the weird little nuances and seeing what shakes out. Also, the first group, "TTRPG as fancy board game" is definitely the older and more widespread one. I kind of get the impression that the second group largely got into D&D through actual play podcasts, but I don't have any actual data to back that up. So, if you're in the second group, who thinks of D&D as basically a context for collaborative storytelling first and a game second, please let me know if I'm wildly misunderstanding how you approach D&D. Because I'm pretty sure it would save us a whole lot of stupid misunderstandings.

[makismei]

(18+) thinking about nanami as your kouhai at your shitty corporate job. three years younger than you and fresh to the office, but he’s almost on par with your work ethic.

it’s so attractive, you think, handsome and capable. he doesn’t even complain about the shitshow company! but nanami has gained popularity, amongst the female workers especially.

during a work dinner, you watched as women surrounded him. so you laugh with your other coworkers, trying to ignore the jealousy stirring in your gut.

he’s younger than you! you try to reason with yourself. nanami doesn’t want to date an old lady! you think. it might only be by three years, but after having a horrible dry spell in your love life, you have no idea what to do with yourself.

later that night, though. nanami clearly knows what to do with you.

he fucked you so well that you couldn’t even do anything but take it. legs over his shoulders, forehead pressed against yours, he rammed his hips into you like no tomorrow.

“i’m sorry,” he breathes, playing with your hair as you try to catch your breath. “i should’ve properly taken you out first.”

“well,” you pout, meeting his eyes. “i’m free on friday after work.”

he smiles, “i’ll pick you up at 7:30.”

you both decide to keep your relationship secret to your coworkers. you can’t lie, it’s frustrating seeing women clobber all over your painfully handsome and younger boyfriend, but you always let it slide because nanami is quite excellent at not making you feel insecure.

a few months go by and your company decides to collaborate with another. you’re put in charge of the team representing your company and you’re not surprised to find out you’re working with nanami.

but you are surprised when your ex boyfriend is the team leader for his company.

it’s uncomfortable, he’s flirty with you and no matter how many times you turn him down, he still makes advances. tucking your hair behind your ear, bringing you coffee, making you stay alone in the meeting room with him to discuss team leader things…

nanami is irked, two coffees in hand as he watches you smile uncomfortably at the other man. thank god the meeting room walls are glass, he thinks. he would’ve tore them all down if they weren’t.

he has to be rational. he can’t embarrass you and make the company look bad. but god, he’s so frustrated. he’s jealous. he’s jealous of your history with him. clearly, you don’t like him so he doesn’t need to worry, but has that man seen you like he does?

one way to find out.

“k-ken!” you cry, back arching and legs tensing. calves thrown over his shoulders, he continues ramming into you. “oh my god!”

you’re moaning carelessly, clawing at his arms that are on your waist. liquid splashes on his lower tummy and he continues fucking you through it.

nanami groans. “keep going, baby.”

he feels you try to angle your hips, like you’re running away from his thrust. arms locking around your legs, he thrusts into you with a new fervour.

“don’t move your hips away, my love.” he breathes.

“it’s too much!” you shake your head and he replies by pinching your clit. you scream, body shaking as he forces you to ride out your high.

he cums, thick and sticky inside of you. he groans, eyes almost rolling back. “squeezing me so well, baby.”

when he pulls out, his cock is still hard and so heavy. it hangs between his legs, chest rising and falling rapidly as he plays with the mess between yours.

he’s different today, you think, eyes lidded. he’s usually gentle, but this side of him… you can get used to this.

you turn on your stomach, trying to kneel but nanami tugs your ankles, keeping you flat on your tummy.

shaking your ass, you look over his shoulder and meet his gaze. “you’re gonna be the death of me.”

he pushes into you and your first instinct is to raise your head, but nanami pushes you down, plowing into you. his thrusts are heavy, hitting your sweet spot so accurately that you’re seeing stars.

he grabs your jaw, kissing you. “don’t cry,” he whispers, “don’t you feel good?”

“so good!” you reply, vision blurry. “i… i think i’m gonna cum again!”

you heard him chuckle and makes you clench on him momentarily. “you are.”

teary eyed and drool spilling from your mouth, nanami litters kisses on your cheeks and lips, finding it addicting that you’re unable to reciprocate.

“do i make you feel good?” he questions, eyebrows pinching together as he feels his release near.

you nod, moaning uncontrollably.

he grabs your jaw a bit tighter. “can i have words baby?”

“y-yes!” you slur, “it’s only yo—ooohh!”

with his chest pressing against your back, he ruts into you sloppily. hands finding a new home beside your head, while his lips brush over your shoulder.

you squeal, fisting the bedsheets and legs quivering. you’re stuffing your face into his pillow, sobbing with pleasure when you hear nanami groan. his teeth lightly sink into your shoulder as he cums inside, pushing his release deeper with a few short strokes.

he rolls off of you and you turn to face him, tentatively, he reaches to brush your hair from your eyes. “i’m sorry, i was too rough, wasn’t i?”

you hum, “no, i liked it.”

nanami chuckles, knuckles brushing against your cheek. “good to know.”

you lay in silence for a bit, breaths slowly syncing with one another’s. nanami’s eyes flutter closed and you reach out to hold his face. he hums, a smile creeping it’s way to his lips.

your warmth. the love he has for you. it’s swallowing him whole and he’s gladly letting it happen.

“you don’t have to worry about him, you know.” you breathe, “he’s a nuisance but he’s not an idiot—he was actually teasing us because he saw how pissed off you were when we were in the meeting room.”

his eyes slowly open, “i’m sorry. i know i don’t have to worry,” he pauses and your thumb gently rubs against his cheek. “truthfully, i’m jealous of his history with you. i wish that it was me instead.”

you breathe a laugh, “you did not want to be with the me that dated him—i was horrible, you would’ve hated me.”

his brows furrow. “what do you mean?”

“i used to always be upset, i was full of anger. my previous relationships were so,” you ponder on the right words, “lonely and transactional.”

you prop yourself up on your arm, looking down at him. “you love so gently and truthfully, i wonder if the current me really deserves you.”

nanami pouts, watching your lip wobble and tears well in your eyes. “that’s nonsense. i believe you were just seeing the wrong people.”

you laugh tearfully, he continues. “you are deserving of a love that is gentle and true. i only ever want to cherish you in a way that uplifts you and reminds you i am someone consistent that you can rely on.”

you don’t reply, only reaching out to wrap your arms around him. face hidden in his neck, he feels tears drip onto his skin. naturally, his arms cage you to his chest, a hand rubbing your back comfortingly.

he lets you cry, not bothering with the fact you haven’t said anything. nanami takes your vulnerability as his answer instead.

only you have seen me this way.

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Oooh! A great Gavin Finney (Good Omens Director of Photography) interview with Helen Parkinson for the British Cinematographer! :)

HEAVEN SENT

Gifted a vast creative landscape from two of fantasy’s foremost authors to play with, Gavin Finney BSC reveals how he crafted the otherworldly visuals for Good Omens 2.  

It started with a letter from beyond the grave. Following fantasy maestro Sir Terry Pratchett’s untimely death in 2015, Neil Gaiman decided he wouldn’t adapt their co-authored 1990 novel, Good Omens, without his collaborator. That was, until he was presented with a posthumous missive from Pratchett asking him to do just that.  

For Gaiman, it was a request that proved impossible to decline: he brought Good Omens season one to the screen in 2019, a careful homage to its source material. His writing, complemented by some inspired casting – David Tennant plays the irrepressible demon Crowley, alongside Michael Sheen as angel-slash-bookseller Aziraphale – and award-nominated visuals from Gavin Finney BSC, proved a potent combination for Prime Video viewers.  

Aziraphale’s bookshop was a set design triumph.

Season two departs from the faithful literary adaptation of its predecessor, instead imagining what comes next for Crowley and Aziraphale. Its storyline is built off a conversation that Pratchett and Gaiman shared during a jetlagged stay in Seattle for the 1989 World Fantasy Convention. Gaiman remembers: “The idea was always that we would tell the story that Terry and I came up with in 1989 in Seattle, but that we would do that in our own time and in our own way. So, once Good Omens (S1) was done, all I knew was that I really, really wanted to tell the rest of the story.” 

Telling that story visually may sound daunting, but cinematographer Finney is no stranger to the wonderfully idiosyncratic world of Pratchett and co. As well as lensing Good Omens’ first outing, he’s also shot three other Pratchett stories – TV mini series  Hogfather  (2006), and TV mini-series The Colour of Magic (2008) and Going Postal (2010). 

He relishes how the authors provide a vast creative landscape for him to riff off. “The great thing about Pratchett and Gaiman is that there’s no limit to what you can do creatively – everything is up for grabs,” he muses. “When we did the first Pratchett films and the first Good Omens, you couldn’t start by saying, ‘Okay, what should this look like?’, because nothing looks like Pratchett’s world. So, you’re starting from scratch, with no references, and that starting point can be anything you want it to be.”  

Season two saw the introduction of inside-outside sets for key locations including Aziraphale’s bookshop. 

From start to finish 

The sole DP on the six-episode season, Finney was pleased to team up again with returning director Douglas Mackinnon for the “immensely complicated” shoot, and the pair began eight weeks of prep in summer 2021. A big change was the production shifting the main soho set from Bovington airfield, near London, up to Edinburgh’s Pyramids Studio. Much of the action in Good Omens takes place on the Soho street that’s home to Aziraphale’s bookshop, which was built as an exterior set on the former airfield for season one. Season two, however, saw the introduction of inside-outside sets for key locations including the bookshop, record store and pub, to minimise reliance on green screen.  

Finney brought over many elements of his season one lensing, especially Mackinnon’s emphasis on keeping the camera moving, which involved lots of prep and testing. “We had a full-time Scorpio 45’ for the whole shoot (run by key grip Tim Critchell and his team), two Steadicam operators (A camera – Ed Clark and B camera Martin Newstead) all the way through, and in any one day we’d often go from Steadicam, to crane, to dolly and back again,” he says. “The camera is moving all the time, but it’s always driven by the story.” 

One key difference for season two, however, was the move to large-format visuals. Finney tested three large-format cameras and the winner was the Alexa LF (assisted by the Mini LF where conditions required), thanks to its look and flexibility.  

The minisodes were shot on Cooke anamorphics, giving Finney the ideal balance of anamorphic-style glares and characteristics without too much veiling flare.

A more complex decision was finding the right lenses for the job. “You hear about all these whizzy new lenses that are re-barrelled ancient Russian glass, but I needed at least two full sets for the main unit, then another set for the second unit, then maybe another set again for the VFX unit,” Finney explains. “If you only have one set of this exotic glass, it’s no good for the show.” 

He tested a vast array of lenses before settling on Zeiss Supremes, supplied by rental house Media Dog. These ticked all the boxes for the project: “They had a really nice look – they’re a modern design but not over sharp, which can look a bit electronic and a bit much, especially with faces. When you’re dealing with a lot of wigs and prosthetics, we didn’t want to go that sharp. The Supremes had a very nice colour palette and nice roll-off. They’re also much smaller than a lot of large-format glass, so that made it easy for Steadicam and remote cranes. They also provided additional metadata, which was very useful for the VFX department (VFX services were provided by Milk VFX).” 

The Supremes were paired with a selection of filters to characterise the show’s varied locations and characters. For example, Tiffen Bronze Glimmerglass were paired with bookshop scenes; Black Pro-Mist was used for Hell; and Black Diffusion FX for Crowley’s present-day storyline.  

Finney worked closely with the show’s DIT, Donald MacSween, and colourist, Gareth Spensley, to develop the look for the minisode.

Maximising minisodes 

Episodes two, three and four of season two each contain a ‘minisode’ – an extended flashback set in Biblical times, 1820s Edinburgh and wartime London respectively. “Douglas wanted the minisodes to have very strong identities and look as different from the present day as possible, so we’d instantly know we were in a minisode and not the present day,” Finney explains.  

One way to shape their distinctive look was through using Cooke anamorphic lenses. As Finney notes: “The Cookes had the right balance of controllable, anamorphic-style flares and characteristics without having so much veiling flare that they would be hard to use on green screens. They just struck the right balance of aesthetics, VFX requirements and availability.” The show adopted the anamorphic aspect ratio (2:39.1), an unusual move for a comedy, but one which offered them more interesting framing opportunities. 

Good Omens 2 was shot on the Alexa LF, paired with Zeiss Supremes for the present-day scenes.

The minisodes were also given various levels of film grain to set them apart from the present-day scenes. Finney first experimented with this with the show’s DIT Donald MacSween using the DaVinci Resolve plugin FilmConvert. Taking that as a starting point, the show’s colourist, Company 3’s Gareth Spensley, then crafted his own film emulation inspired by two-strip Technicolor. “There was a lot of testing in the grade to find the look for these minisodes, with different amounts of grain and different types of either Technicolor three-strip or two-strip,” Finney recalls. “Then we’d add grain and film weave on that, then on top we added film flares. In the Biblical scenes we added more dust and motes in the air.”  

Establishing the show’s lighting was a key part of Finney’s testing process, working closely with gaffer Scott Napier and drawing upon PKE Lighting’s inventory. Good Omens’ new Scottish location posed an initial challenge: as the studio was in an old warehouse rather than being purpose-built for filming, its ceilings weren’t as high as one would normally expect. This meant Finney and Napier had to work out a low-profile way of putting in a lot of fixtures. 

Inside Crowley’s treasured Bentley.

Their first task was to test various textiles, LED wash lights and different weight loadings, to establish what they were working with for the street exteriors. “We worked out that what was needed were 12 SkyPanels per 20’x20’ silk, so each one was a block of 20’x20’, then we scaled that up,” Finney recalls. “I wanted a very seamless sky, so I used full grid cloth which made it very, very smooth. That was important because we’ve got lots of cars constantly driving around the set and the sloped windscreens reflect the ceiling. So we had to have seamless textiles – PKE had to source around 12,000 feet of textiles so that we could put them together, so the reflections in the windscreens of the cars just showed white gridcloth rather than lots of stage lights. We then drove the car around the set to test it from different angles.”  

On the floor, they mostly worked with LEDs, providing huge energy and cost savings for the production. Astera’s Titan Tubes came in handy for a fun flashback scene with John Hamm’s character Gabriel. The DP remembers: “[Gabriel] was travelling down a 30-foot feather tunnel. We built a feather tunnel on the stage and wrapped it in a ring of Astera tubes, which were then programmed by dimmer op Jon Towler to animate, pulse and change different colours. Each part of Gabriel’s journey through his consciousness has a different colour to it.” 

Among the rigs built was a 20-strong Creamsource Vortex setup for the graveyard scene in the “Body Snatchers” minisode, shot in Stirling. “We took all the yokes off each light then put them on a custom-made aluminium rig so we could have them very close. We put them up on a big telehandler on a hill that gave me a soft mood light, which was very adjustable, windproof and rainproof.” 

Shooting on the VP stage for the birth of the universe scenes in episode one.

Sky’s the limit 

A lot of weather effects were done in camera – including lightning effects pulsed in that allowed both direct fork lightning and sheet lightning to spread down the streets. In the grade, colourist Spensley was also able to work his creative magic on the show’s skies. “Gareth is a very artistic colourist – he’s a genius at changing skies,” Finney says. “Often in the UK you get these very boring, flat skies, but he’s got a library of dramatic skies that you can drop in. That would usually be done by VFX, but he’s got the ability to do it in Baselight, so a flat sky suddenly becomes a glorious sunset.” 

Finney emphasises that the grade is a very involved process for a series like Good Omens, especially with its VFX-heavy nature. “This means VFX sequences often need extra work when it comes back into the timeline,” says the DP. “So, we often add camera movement or camera shake to crank the image up a bit. Having a colourist like Gareth is central to a big show like Good Omens, to bring all the different visual elements together and to make it seamless. It’s quite a long grade process but it’s worth its weight in gold.” 

Shooting in the VR cube for the blitz scenes .

Finney took advantage of virtual production (VP) technology for the driving scenes in Crowley’s classic Bentley. The volume was built on their Scottish set: a 4x7m cube with a roof that could go up and down on motorised winches as needed. “We pulled the cars in and out on skates – they went up on little jacks, which you could then rotate and move the car around within the volume,” he explains. “We had two floating screens that we could move around to fill in and use as additional source lighting. Then we had generated plates – either CGI or real location plates –projected 360º around the car. Sometimes we used the volume in-camera but if we needed to do more work downstream; we’d use a green screen frustum.” Universal Pixels collaborated with Finney to supply in-camera VFX expertise, crew and technical equipment for the in-vehicle driving sequences and rear projection for the crucial car shots. 

John Hamm was suspended in the middle of this lighting rig and superimposed into the feather tunnel.

Interestingly, while shooting at a VP stage in Leith, the team also used the volume as a huge, animated light source in its own right – a new technique for Finney. “We had the camera pointing away from [the volume] so the screen provided this massive, IMAX-sized light effect for the actors. We had a simple animation of the expanding universe projected onto the screen so the actors could actually see it, and it gave me the animated light back on the actors.”  

Bringing such esteemed authors’ imaginations to the screen is no small task, but Finney was proud to helped bring Crowley and Aziraphale’s adventures to life once again. He adds: “What’s nice about Good Omens, especially when there’s so much bad news in the world, is that it’s a good news show. It’s a very funny show. It’s also about good and evil, love and doing the right thing, people getting together irrespective of backgrounds. It’s a hopeful message, and I think that that’s what we all need.” 

Finney is no stranger to the idiosyncratic world of Sir Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman.

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