#flashing neon colors and harsh contrasts
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jorrated · 9 months ago
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literally the only good thing i can say about hellava bust is that they are introducing the seven deadly sins in the same order as dantes divine comedy, like following the order of the 9 layers of hell from shallowest to deepest. only smart reference in the whole show
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elderwisp · 7 months ago
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How do you get such pretty lighting in your photos? Is it relight? Would you ever do a mini tut? 🤞
halloooo! i would say relight helps elevate the lighting a bunch, i do also utilize these lights (i find that ts4 neon lighting is missing vibrancy, so these are amazing!) as well as these (i love the shadow/spotlight one if i need to add in a harsh shadow to help make things look like flash photography in a dark room). i like to mess around with contrast and color mixer in camera raw filter (for photoshop however, reshade maybe gshade has a lightroom shader and that's awesome as well!) as for like a tutorial, i can give you some pointers!
when working with relight, sometimes it helps a bunch to have a low-lit room, it seems a bit counterintuitive, but i find that the photo can get easily overexposed. (i show example below of photo before and after with relight). relight is sometimes a bit tricky because certain angles don't work well, like GAWD i was having trouble with one of the photos from the photoset yesterday, but i literally just moved the camera a little to the left and for some reason it worked ._. SO don't be afraid to try weird angles!
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^ also this little dude, super awesome, move it adjust it a bunch to see what you like! as you can see, i set my intensity pretty high, a lot of the times i max it out if i can ._.
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i wanted to add with relight, add it to the top of your order so you can avoid things looking murky/washed out!
LMAO sorry if this was all over the place, lighting is an extensive process for me sometimes, but i find that layering details is key. i do like to study lighting in cinematography and photography, i especially love street photographers that have like really cool photos with neon lighting! i find that this helps me have a better understanding too! :)
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chibsandchill · 2 years ago
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Effervescent
Chapter 1: A new face
Tsu'tey x OC
Effervescent masterlist
:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:
A streak of burnt orange and soft pink cut through the blanket of darkness falling over the moon. Faint outlines of stars promised a cold night, already Alva felt the beginnings of shivers as her skin pebbled from the chilled breeze.
"Alva?"
Her legs stopped their swinging attacks against the frigid steel. "Up here, Grace," Alva said.
"I know you have another hour," Grace Augustine was the head-scientist in her department on Hell's Base and she knew that Alva was going to protest the early night. "But today is welcome the recruits night and I am not doing that shit alone. Max is showing them around the lab as we speak."
Alva hummed and inclined her head. Over the edge of the building she had perched herself upon that night she could just barely see Grace's sleek black hair. "I do have another hour. That was the deal we made, big brother and I."
Her eyes fluttered away from the Avatar driver and back to the forest she had been marveling at. The majestic, tall trees towered over the large electric fence and had just started to come alive again after a day of rest. Vibrant blue, pink, purple and even neon green lit up the outlines of them. Like the old seasonal lighting festivals back in the 21st century, or a canvas being brought to life by blotches and imperfect curves of clashing colors, the entire forest cast away the earthy tones in favor for the more dramatic palette. Every bush and budding tree, and the well-traveled paths beneath the heavy crowns of towering helutral. Not a single living thing was exempt from the gifted bioluminescence, each little element – be it a leaf or the translucent dome-shaped flora with shivering tentacles – were as loved by Eywa as the other. As if answering the calling of their mother, the bundles and clusters of bright dots lining her Avatar body lit up like little stars on a dark evening sky.
"It's just started," she mourned, wiggling her fingers to watch the dots dance over her knuckles. "I can't leave now."
A heavy sigh.
"If you do this one thing for me, Alva, I'll make sure you get to stay up an extra hour tomorrow. I'm sure your little friends will forgive you."
"Maybe."
The dull concrete paths of the Avatar enclosure faded away as darkness won the battle, each and every little piece of man-made disasters forgotten under their heavy cloak of success. For as long as the night endured the relentless attacks of the sun, the inhabitants of the moon could forget the invading forces and their blasphemous gray buildings and deep-rooted mines, though they did not stop their pursuit for unobtanium during the nights. But the wooden shack on the far right corner of the enclosure stood out like a sore-thumb with its artificial yellow lights dangling from the beams, a contrast from the harsh white strobe-lights placed around the perimeter of the base on the high walls.
Alva heard Grace grip the old, corroded metal pipe. "I have chocolate in my office. The expensive kind with berries and nuts in them."
"If you're trying to bribe me, Grace," she chuckled, "then it's working."
Grace chuckled as well, though this body's chuckle held none of the huskiness or hoarseness that came with the decades long habit of chain-smoking cigarettes.
Alva stood from her precarious position on the edge of the sloped roof, bare feet navigating the rusty panels and stray debris with an expertise that spoke of years of practice. When she had skipped to the end with the group of pipes, she grabbed the sturdiest of them, ignored the protesting groan it let out when she shook it, and scaled down the side of the building with cat-like grace. Damp grass greeted her at the end of the descent, in which she dug her toes.
"It's going to storm tonight, did you know?"
A flash of a red cropped shirt foretold Grace's rounding the corner of the building. The taller Avatar leaned against the wall and shook her head. "Our scans would have shown us but there's not going to be one for at least a week."
"They are wrong," she chirped. A pile of dry leaves was her next victim, eager feet coming down on them with childish delight when they wrinkled, crinkled and then broke with a marvelous crunch. Brown and wilted, but held the tiniest spot of green on the stem spoke of their clinging to life though the rest of them had already left. Soon even those would rejoin the great mother before being reborn into something else. "The fkio take cover under Eywa's arms. Her voice will thunder across the sky and even the last shadow will hide. She has told me this and more."
"If Eywa told you this then this conversation should wait until we're back inside the base so I won't have to worry about her 'thundering' words sweeping you up into the forest."
"I wouldn't mind."
Thin lips curled into half a smile as Grace placed a hand on her cocked hip. "We're aware," she said. "But I think your brother would."
Alva blew a raspberry. "He's such a buzzkill. Just one teeny tiny little trip out of the cage wouldn't kill him, but leaving me in here to wilt like a little rose might."
"He's concerned about you. Spending all that time out here all alone, day in and day out isn't healthy for anyone, much less you." Grace curled her long fingers around Alva's bicep, unintended pressure making the arm-ring dig into the soft flesh there. Something within the forest screeched.
"I'm not alone," she protested. "I have Eywa and all of her children with me. They tell me things, things about out there," Alva pointed to the forest, "and they're waiting for me. I know they are. I can feel it."
Grace tugged on her arm and the two started walking towards the sleeping shed.
"If you actually bothered attending our meetings then you'd know that Jake Sully, Selfridge's new marine, is going to join my department and the big man himself is insisting I bring him with me on the next field trip." She said, maneuvering Alva around the corner of another bland building. In the far right corner the basketball court grew out of the darkness, and to the left the lengthy obstacle course with the little weight-lifting square in front. A couple of weights laid discarded in the middle of it, drowning beneath the embrace of green vines that held knife-sharp thorns. "And since he insists on sticking his nose in my business I'm going to be the biggest pain-in-the-ass he has ever seen. So, I'm taking you with me."
Alva's jaw slackened in shock, the budding seeds of hope blossoming in her golden eyes. "Really?!" She squealed, clapping twice while jumping. "Truly, truly, truly? I get to leave? Me? The forest?"
Grace laughed. "Yes, you, Alva."
'Did you hear that?' she asked as she tilted her head up to the starry sky, 'tomorrow I will finally know your voice'.
The younger Avatar driver tore her arm free of the hold, spun twice and then grabbed Grace's calloused hands in her soft ones. With a smile as bright as the sun Alva dragged Grace towards the shack, a newfound strength and impatience fuelling her skips and twirls and dancing. Grace didn't protest the sudden shift, only followed along with the movements as best as she could for she did not possess the grace or dancer's intuition that Alva did. Clumsy pirouettes and staggering leaps over chipped stones the extent of her participation. But Alva did not mind the dead-weight she pulled behind her, almost as if she had altogether forgotten about Grace's presence in the midst of her excitement.
"Come on," Alva groaned, " Max will have bored him to death with his science talk if you won't hurry up."
"You're going to be absolutely horrible about this, aren't you?" Grace asked, eyebrows pinched together. "But you're right, receiving actual information might cause his seagull sized brain to implode."
"Be nice. He just lost his brother."
Grace shook her head, a sliver of compassion in her beady eyes before it was swallowed by years-old pain. "You tell your brother to stop fucking up my projects and I'll consider it. We needed diplomacy, not another gun-toting maniac with a superiority complex."
"Fine." Alva said. "Now, come on!"
They entered the wooden shack, Alva nodding at the mask-wearing humans carrying around their screens while they scurried around the room to check brain-activity and vitals. As always, Grace was the one who ushered them out so that she could lock the steel doors. All of the beds except two near the end of the two lines were occupied by 'sleeping' avatars, each of them grown to be the perfect human-na'vi match for their humans so they were as diverse as their drivers; some of them taller, some shorter, some skinny while some were muscular.
Grace sat down on her bed on the left line while Alva fell onto hers in a mess of uncoordinated limbs. Somehow she managed to wrangle her tattered blanket out from under her, flopping onto her back with a muted groan before shrugging the thin piece of woven fabric over her body.
"Night, kiddies!" Alva called out to them but received no answers except for Grace as she was always the one to return the last and so all the scientists and doctors had already returned to their human bodies. Alva far exceeded the recommended amount of time spent in her avatar body by far but most spent a couple of hours during the sunlight or during expeditions but otherwise spent most of their time pouring over the data they had collected, while Alva spent hers staring wistfully at trees and faint outlines of ikranä.
She shut her eyes and let her mind go blank, mourning the dulling of her connection to Eywa.
-:-
Darkness greeted her, and the hoarse shouts of "Who's got my goddamn cigarette?! Guys, what's wrong with this picture?"
"Ugh," Alva muttered when the aching in her muscles slowly trickled back, and she nimbly reached up to push the clam-shell upper lid of her link unit open, only to be greeted by blinding artificial light blasting right into her sensitive eyes.
Alva sat up, bejeweled fingers digging into the soft, foamy interior of the bed. Her stomach ached with hunger, discontented rumbles muffled by her left hand covering it. With squinted eyes she looked to her left. She recognized the civilian scientist Max with his mop of dark curls and cracked glasses perched low on a crooked nose, but the other two men were unknown to her. One of them came clothed in a matching tan-colored hat and vest, along with a small bag hanging around his neck and a red shirt. Surrounded by people in flowing white lab coats and sour faces, his child-like awe was a welcome change.
"'Ello, Max!" Alva greeted the man, waving at him. "How's it going?"
Max dipped his head in greeting. "Uh, just fine, Alva. Thank you."
"Sweet." She nodded before wincing as her heel knocked into the linkin unit which sent a pulse of toe-curling pain through her foot.
"Grace, I'd like you to meet Norm Spellman and Ja-"
Grace didn't let the man finish before she rounded on them, donning her own lab coat and a cigarette hanging loosely from thin lips. "Norm," she looked pleased as she looked him over, her harsh scowl losing some of its malice. Grace returned a clipboard to one of her attendants before taking her glasses off. "I've heard good things about you. How's your Na'vi?"
"May the All mother smile upon our first meeting." The tall, lanky man with the odd clothes stuttered his reply.
"Not bad. But you sound a little formal."
"I've studied for five years but there is still much to learn." Norm chuckled.
Max shifted his weight from where he was leaning against the railing. "Uh, Grace," he interrupted. "This is Jake Su-"
So small and as little of a threat had Jake made himself that Alva hadn't even noticed him hiding behind Max. Or, rather he hung back, clearly out of his element amongst the scientists and stuck-up doctors running around the room. But now that he had been revealed, Alva could barely tear her eyes away from his – so deep and age-old was the pain in them that she could feel herself drowning in his anguish.
"Yeah, yeah, I know who you are, Jake Sully. But I don't need you, I need your brother. You know, the PhD who trained three years for this mission?" Usually not a cruel woman, but one tired of Selfridge continued dabbling in her projects and a constant political nightmare, Grace held not even a sliver of kindness in her dark eyes as she stared the ex-marine down.
"Grace," Alva warned. "Remember what we talked about, hm?"
Jake's offered hand fell in his lap. "He's dead. I know it's a big inconvenience to everyone."
In one swift movement Alva leapt out of the bed, stumbled over to the disabled man and tore his hand from where it clutched a wrinkle in his pant-leg. She shook it with abandon. Jake had a prominent tattoo on his shoulder that spelled out 'born a loser', and a neat cursive tag saying 'Sully' on the back of his yellow carbon fiber wheelchair. There was no mistaking his strength, though, as his upper-body remained firm, wide and with rippling muscles under pale skin.
"I'm Alva," she said. "Alva Enem, Grace's pride and joy. And you're Jake Sully, my brother's newest toy. That rhymed," Alva giggled.
"Nice to meet you, Alva." Jake shook her hand. "Are you a scientist too?"
The cheeky comment waiting on the tip of Alva's tongue was wrenched from her when Grace spoke again. "How much lab training have you had? Ever run a gas chromatograph?"
Clear blue eyes flickered away from Alva to rest on Grace. "No."
"Any actual lab work at all?"
"High-school chemistry. Dissected a frog once before I ditched."
"You see? You see? They're pissing on us without even the courtesy of calling it rain." Grace wet her dry lips with the tip of her tongue, steely determination setting in. "I'm going to Selfridge. Alva, please escort the new idiot to his room." She pushed past Jake and Max.
"No, Grace!" Max protested. "That's not a good idea."
She wheeled back around with her finger pointing at the disgruntled scientist. "No, man, this is such bullshit! I'm gonna kick his corporate butt. He has no business sticking his nose in my department."
Grace strode out the room with loud clomping steps.
Max turned to Jake with a grimace stretched on his face. He cleared his throat and edged towards the corridor leading into the connected bio-lab. "Be back here at 0800. Try to use big words."
"Yeah, sure." He nodded, and Max scurried out of the room and after his superior. Then Jake turned back to Alva who had taken to rocking back and forth on the tips of her sock-claden feet. "She, uh, doesn't seem to like me very much."
Alva waved a hand. "She was in a bad mood even before meeting you, don't worry about it."
Thin bony fingers swept through the air in a downwards motion before Alva's hand was snatched by Norm, who squeezed once before shaking it. "I'm Norm Spellman. It's really nice to meet you, Alva."
Alva slipped her other hand on the other side of Norm's and gave their joined hands a curt shake. The black lens of an old-time camera peeked up from the bag around his neck. She didn't recognize the brand. "Hi, Norm. What's that camera for?"
"Oh!" He exclaimed, sweaty fingers pulling it out of its confines. "It was my great-great-great-grandfather's. There's no battery left but I always take it with me whenever I leave home. Sort of a lucky charm, I guess."
"Cute," she said before her eyes caught the four-digit number displayed on a large screen above the door. 21:43. She cringed. "It was really nice meeting you Norm, but I gotta show Jake his dorm and it's my hair-wash day so see you tomorrow. May Eywa give you pleasant dreams!"
In a flurry of draping sleeves and tight curls, Alva swept out of the room with all the grace of a hurricane. Jake wheeled after her as fast as he could but he hadn't yet learnt how to efficiently move around in the new wheelchair, which was so unlike his old one. 
Next chapter
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baglove · 2 years ago
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blossom conch orchid peach puff peony pepto bismal persian petunia pig cadillac champagne diamond grapefruit lemonade sherbet polka dot powder cotton candy cranberry cupcake eraser flamingo flesh fuchsia hibiscus jellyfish lavender plum lipstick, magenta misty mulberry petal quartz rosy red ruby sand seashell strawberry jam milkshake sunset tea thistle tongue tulip turnip worm neon black cat coffee licorice pearl pepper tar blackboard blackout blue bow tie carbon kohl mars mascara mica, midnight molasses night sky ninja obsidian onyx outer space chalkboard charcoal coal ebony eclipse eyelash fig gothic hearse ink jet jetty piano key pitch pupil raven sable spade spider tarmac kick ass woman man women girl girly tough fitness, run running sprint yoga pilates cooking blaze blazing accented achromatic ashen ashy atomic beaming bi color bleached bleak blended blotchy bold brash bright brilliant burnt checkered chromatic classic clean colored colorful colorless complementing, contrasting 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gab giggle give advice birth gossip nurture overcome play provide relate rely respect sacrifice satisfy seduce, share shop shoulder stick up support sympathize treasure trust understand uplift amusing animated awkward awesome authentic big cheery defiant delicious different distorted fantastic excited famous fuzzy marvelous intriguing naughty odd realistic
(via cute dragon with wonderful colors iPhone Skin by mohammed elhachimi)
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ayamturd · 4 years ago
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payment│quackity
summary: you’re hungry and quackity is overworked; silly antics turn sweet and wholesome
warnings: none, only fluff
pairing: irl cc!quackity
a/n: i legitimately forgot covid existed when writing so lets play pretend for this fic's sake :)
wc: (1.0k) - m.list
flight - pt two
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The red light blared down at you until it flashed before your eyes, its now white, bright hue a stark contrast to the dark of the night. 
Hand in hand, you continued to swing Quackity’s arm in sync with yours, the momentum driving you both forward on the quiet streets. He yelped when you pulled him sharply onto the empty road, your giggles echoing against the seemingly abandon buildings surrounding you. 
The wind blew past your ears by how fast you ran across, the lack of cars playing into your mischief and how you strived to take the world as your own. With the moon guiding your sight and the gravel free of any obstacle, nothing could break your intoxicated feeling of free. 
You skipped on the high of excitement, your eccentric energy funnily enough in replacement of Quackity’s usual upbeat demeanor. 
He had been working far past what he promised you again, and you thought it best to take him away from his computer forcefully. While he grumbled for the first few minutes of your sudden expedition, he only had himself to blame when being persistent to stating how he wasn’t ready for bed.  
“Live a little, will you? You needed the fresh air anyway.”
Quackity let out a huff in response and tightened his hold on your hand, quickening his pace to match your stride with a tired smile. 
“Yeah, yeah. Let’s just get you your snacks already.”
Rolling your eyes playfully, you agreed nonetheless and made you way to the open convenience store nearby. The harsh neon light made you squint with narrow eyes, its rich color basically screaming its 24/7 opening status in full. 
Inconsiderate to the possibility, you led the way when running through the automatic open doors and rushing to find your desired cravings on display, your poorly tied shoes squeaking on the old, yet polished store floor. Quackity held more common sense than you in that given moment, stopping you by your still connected hands with a firm grip. 
To anyone watching, it was a sight to see you try to pull away from Quackity while he stood his ground, his unoccupied hand in his jacket pocket a show of his relaxed state in comparison to your scuffled one. Your hand was reached out as if the feeble, gripping motions ahead would benefit anything, and eventually, you spent enough of your energy to stop. 
You whined before he could justify his reasonings, tugging on his arm childishly with a pout. 
“Aleeex, I want my foooood,” you groaned out. 
Quackity couldn’t help his chuckle but nodded his head towards the front entrance behind him. You shifted your eyes as he lifted his brows at you. 
“We need a shopping cart, dumbass. Knowing you, you’ll probably buy the whole store.”
You gave a mock gasp but struggled to find an argument against it. Too hungry and anxious for your own good, you begrudgingly agreed to his reason and walked passed him towards the carts area.
Wordlessly, you pulled the metal front of the tiny cart and yanked it out, the squeal of the rusted wheels eery by the jerk. You brought it forward to Quackity’s side, all while avoiding his gaze. 
Just as he reached to hold the end of it, you began to hook your leg to the outer rim with a concentrated grunt. You attempted to push yourself upward with your own weight, but you were helpless as you continued to jump pathetically against the moving platform. 
Quackity was left speechless to your grappling noises, his soundless wheezes growing with his smile from your antics. 
“What the hell are you doing?”
You peaked an eye at him with an obvious look, as if almost irritated he would ask such a question in the first place. 
“Getting in, duh?” Before he could respond, you managed to properly lean in and fell into the space with a surprised shriek. Limbs a tangled mess, you jumped once realizing your success and proudly held your arms up in a roaring victory. 
Your eyes gleamed in pure fulfillment when you stared up at him, your joy contagious despite him being initially worn from your lively attitude. He couldn’t rid the grin on his face even if he tried. 
“Push me!” you exclaimed. “We must find the ice cream!”
Standing above you as your held your cheery beam, Quackity moved to lean down to your eye level, his arms rested against the cart handles with his chin on his folded wrists. 
“Now why do I have to be the one to push, hmm?” He smirked with a mischievous tone, the glint in his eye dangerous when presented and allowed. “Doesn’t seem all that fair if you were the one to drag me here for company. What’s in it for me?”
With a sigh, you played into his game and held a finger to your chin, pretending to contemplate his payment when looking to the artificial light encased by the moldy panels. 
He waited patiently as you hummed, fully content with watching you up close, his gaze following the curves of your face and the minute details he loved of your features. Only you could look this good in a convenience store this late at night, he thought. 
Unknowing to the complete influence you had over him, you interrupted his observation when your eyes unexpectedly met his. 
“Ooo I know!”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you responded with a shy grin before cupping his cheeks gently. His breathing hitched from the feeling of your innocent touch, and you took the last of his breath away when you pushed your lips onto his. 
The kiss was soft, and while too quick to Quackity’s liking, tender to the point where the taste of you made his lips tingle in sensation. You leaned back as he tried to come closer, his eyes opening to meet your teasing ones, well aware of your own actions; he sometimes hated how perfectly you matched his flirty larks.
“Will that satisfy?” you asked with over exaggerated batted eyelashes. 
 Quackity gnawed on his lower lip with a shake of his head, internally yelling from how little you had to do to break him down. 
“You’re too much,” he exhaled with closed eyes. You giggled and pulled your legs into your chest with a careless shrug.
“Quite possibly, but enough talk. I demand junk food and ice cream.”
“As you wish, babe.” 
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tags! - @notphilosopherstudentblog @mitzimania @basilly @inniterhq @forutheworld @esylwen@sleepysoupi @mayasimagines @dysfunctionalcrab @strxbrymilkkuu​ (feel free to send an ask or comment to be added!)
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goddamnitdazai · 4 years ago
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Little Promises {S&S} | Chuuya
Part of the Salt & Sugar Series | N.SFW | 5K words [9:30] Chuu <3: I’m going to be a little late baby. Order that bottle of wine for us? Rarely did a date start off without one of those texts from Chuuya. He made reservations in the ‘earlier’ (according to mafia time) hours of the night to avoid a situation like this. In what he called the ‘perfect sweet spot’ between him getting off normal work hours and before having to deal with anything that would come up later in the evening as most of the real mafia business did. Lately, more attacks have been occurring directly against the Port Mafia rather than an assault against Yokohama. Nothing that the Black Lizard couldn't handle but Chuuya wasn’t one to sit out of a good fight. He’d gone with Hirotsu to go handle..something, someone most likely, but assured you he’d be finished in time for dinner.
Five or ten minutes wasn’t a big deal. Annoying, yes. But you knew what you signed up for. Being with Chuuya made the irritation worthwhile. Just his smile was enough to erode any negative feelings weighing on you from the day. Sighing quietly you order a bottle of his favorite wine and watch the stars twinkle through the glass. The restaurant itself was gorgeous. Brand new on the eightieth floor with a deck spread out around the entire outside. Chuuya was able to get a table in a heartbeat. The best one in the restaurant. Secluded right next to an expansive window showcasing Yokohama’s glittering amber skyline. Your reflection stares back at you in the window, restless fingers tapping on the newly filled glass of wine. Waiting. [9:45] Chuu <3: On my way back to the office, Boss needs something. Wait for me at the bar? We can sit outside instead. For a man who couldn’t hold that much liquor the wine Chuuya liked was strong. Your head was already buzzing even with the bits of spicy edamame you’d popped in your mouth as a distraction. Your posture deflates further when you read the text flashing on your screen. Deep scarlet liquid sloshes in the glass before passing through your lips to etch a burning pathway down your throat. The dress Chuuya had bought you fit perfectly against your curves. Silk. Red--his color.  A sign you were his. The diamond choker he bought for your birthday suddenly feels too tight around your neck. You hated eating alone. [10:15] Chuu <3: Shit, I’m sorry baby Boss needs me to go take care of something. I’m really sorry, I’ll try to make it quick. Half the bottle churns with a sickly heat in the base of your belly. His chair was still empty. You whip your phone from it’s idled place on the table and tap out a response. [10:17] Chuuya? It’s been over an hour. Where are you? [10:45] You’re not coming are you? [10:50] I charged a bottle of wine to your card. I’m going home. Your shoes land somewhere in your apartment with a loud thump. Keys are next missing the wooden end table meant for them and your purse. Fuck, you were slightly more drunk than you realized. Overpowering vehemention towards the man supposed to be treating you to a nice dinner was the only reason you hadn’t stumbled out of the cab. If you had any type of superhuman strength your heels would have stomped four inch holes into the pavement. Your hand clumsily fumbles for the light switch as you make your way into your apartment muttering curses on Chuuya’s name the entire walk from your door to the kitchen. Compared to Chuuya’s two story penthouse your place was small but cozy. More decorated and homey-- Chuuya liked that about it, he said. Most of his walls were barren except a few pieces of expensive art he purchased on a whim. Chuuya preferred sleeping here over going home when he was out working late and you were already beneath the covers. Coming home to his lover was a treat sweeter than wine according to him. Your shoulders slump. It had been a few weeks since Chuuya had taken you on an actual date. Executives didn’t exactly have frequent pockets of unoccupied time. Leisure was more of a luxury to Chuuya than the most expensive wine in his collection. But, at least in the past few months, he’d been trying to spend more time with you the way a normal couple would. However his promises were falling shorter than you anticipated and at a much higher frequency than expected. There was nothing normal about your situation.. but god damn having a nice dinner with your boyfriend maybe once a month didn’t sound unreasonable. You drag your hand down your face and trudge to the fridge flinging the door open unceremoniously. There wasn’t much in here other than the few healthy snacks Chuuya left.  Your diet mainly consisted of take out or to-go meals from the convenient store down the street. Chuuya hated it and usually preferred places that offered healthy meals, but the man rarely got home before ten at night and was exhausted the moment he crossed the threshold. Hence the dinner date. Your frown deepens. At some point you’d grabbed a water bottle but you weren’t even in the mood to open it. The fridge shuts with a harsh echoing click as you spin on your heel and head towards your bedroom. Between steps your bra ends up on the standing lamp and the matching panties get lost in the shadows. It took an hour to pick out that lingerie. Chuuya tore everything in his haste unless it was something he wanted to see you in more than once--he would have loved that little set. “Fucking asshole.” You snap to the empty bedroom, falling face first into the mess of pillows and blankets. It smelled like him. Unintentionally you inhale deeply cherishing the familiar scent of his shampoo and cologne mingling together. His lingering warmth contrasted the cold emptiness of the bedroom for a few moments bringing a comforting elation, and then the realization that you were in fact without him knocked you right back down. Chuuya was a workaholic. You knew that from the beginning. Working parallel with him exposed his dedication within the first week. A tiny bit of you (that was beginning to grow larger) had begun to truly resent Chuuya’s workaholic tendencies. The Port Mafia was important to him, you got that, but..weren’t you important too? You flip on your side to stop your head from spinning in rapid circles. The wine wasn’t sitting well on an empty stomach but at this point you were too tired and upset to get up and eat. Nothing sounded good anyway. Chuuya’s shirt you often slept in felt like a weight in your hand. “Fucker.” You hiss, throwing it onto the small chair in the corner of your bedroom. Fine. If you weren’t important enough to have fucking dinner with then you wouldn’t bother texting him again. This was pathetic. You try to focus on the wobbling lights of the city through your bedroom window. Gold and neon flecks blur like water droplets against a deep navy sky. A heavy melancholic silence fills up the apartment. Between the wine sloshing in your stomach and the pounding of your head sleep would most likely evade you tonight. Welled up vexation had suddenly melted to pure sorrow, choking you quietly as you lay curled up in the blankets. Finally, little sobs part your lips bringing a few tears in tow. This was stupid, it was just dinner. Chuuya didn’t do it on purpose but why the hell did it feel like a knife twisting in your heart? “Fucker..” you repeat, squeezing your eyes shut forcefully. You’d deal with it tomorrow. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++ At some point you’d passed out holding Chuuya’s pillow tightly in your arms. Unfortunately the thing to awaken you wasn’t the gentle kiss of sunrise or your lover’s tight embrace. The wine you’d downed had resurrected with a vengeance that had you sprinting to the bathroom. From the darkness still drenching the apartment morning hadn’t come quite yet. Your stomach heaves all the contents in a burning violent wrench that barely makes it into the toilet bowl. There’d be bruises from how hard your knees hit the tile but at least it caught all the mess. “Sh-shit..ow.” You mutter, spitting the rest out before wiping your mouth with a piece of toilet paper. “______?” Chuuya’s voice resonates from the living room. “_____? I’m really sorry. Baby...I’ll make it up to you..” Chuuya speaks softly, almost deflated. His voice hits you like a ton of bricks. A miniscule burst of energy helps you stand with aid from the sink at your side. The sudden rush of blood sends your head sloshing in a circle again nearly pushing you back down to the floor. With a deep inhale you force yourself to stand straight again and splash water on your face before looking up at the mirror. Make-up, it had smeared all down your cheeks and beneath your eyes from crying and rubbing against the pillow. You groan at your appearance and grab the mouth wash. Chuuya’s ears perk. “Baby? You okay?” His footsteps are light and quick until they reach the bathroom. “Baby! Are you alright!?” He’s at your side in an instant wrapping his arms around your waist and spinning you to face him. “Don’t---” You press your hand to your forehead, “dizzy. Wine.” You mumble leaning back against the sink. Chuuya’s expression changes from worry to soft concern melded with guilt. His hands steady you with a gentle grip, coaxing you forward with unnecessary slowness (though it was appreciated by your stomach and head). All the crying had caused your eyes to swell enough that the details of the apartment, especially in the dark, were hard to see. If Chuuya hadn’t been guiding you back to your bedroom there’s a good chance you would have ended up face first on the floor. “____…” the guilt in his voice just made you feel worse. “I’m sorry.” He repeats, gentle ungloved fingers reaching for a tissue from the box on your night stand. Your vision was, at the least, bleary but the striking sunset tendrils framing his face stood out beautifully against the low light coming from the bathroom. “Hold on..” Chuuya murmurs, rising to his feet in quick steps. You sit in silence sniffling a bit and trying to keep the bile in your throat. Your eyes flutter shut to keep the light out. The blankets beneath you had bunched uncomfortably at the edge of the bed leaving you lopsided from sitting in the center of the mattress. Any attempt to shift could send whatever was left in your stomach flying, so you wait. Something creaks. Floorboards, then the mattress. Chuuya’s touches are two steps above gentle. Whatever it is, it’s cold. Something soft and cold in his hand over your eyes. It takes a few seconds for it to register. He’s cleaning the smudged make up off your face. Acts like this were the reason it was so hard to stay mad at the man. His gestures were sweet and honest. Showing you love in the only ways he really knew how to. Physical touch, gifts and sweet words after being gone for too long or bailing last minute. Your throat clenches as your fingers grip the loose sheets by your thighs. “Baby, I’m sorry.” Chuuya says it again. Your teeth cinch the inside of your lip. “You promised.” Chuuya’s shoulders sag but his hands keep working the smudged mascara off your face. His other hand nimbly massages the back of your neck finding the pressure point to relieve your headache. “I know.” What else could he say? “I don’t have a different excuse. Boss needed me. It was important. I wouldn’t have done it otherwise. We can have dinner tomorrow or another night. I swear.” Chuuya tries to coax your eyes open with a soft rub of his thumb on your cheekbone. He knew all your spots and that’s what made it hurt the most. “But you promised.” You repeat, almost childlike in the inflection of your voice, but your eyes open. Immediately you’re mesmerized by the expression change on his features. Chuuya, when overcome with too much, tended to drop his head in defeat allowing his bangs to hide him from the shame he felt. Your fingers on his chin keep him from succeeding. “It’s…” you swallow the dry lump in your throat, “I need to be as important too. I’m not asking you to drop whatever Boss has you do when I want attention and I know you’re going to have to leave sometimes when shit comes up unexpectedly... but fuck...you need to give me something.  Anything.” You set your hand timidly on his. “Unless the fucking world is collapsing...I need a promise I know you’re going to keep, Chuuya.” His eyes widen a bit, soft blue glimmering and reflecting bits of your distorted face in their tides. Chuuya stays silent for a moment but moves closer on the bed shifting you carefully until you’re on his lap, legs draped over either side of his thighs. His arms come around your waist (where they belong) to pull your torso flush with his. The hum of his ability tickles your skin as he leans himself back until his head hits the pillow. “Give me a little time to come up with something?” He finally breaks the silence. Hope diminishes and the swelling in your chest grows into a thick knot. “Okay.” You reply against his neck. There wasn’t a chance in hell Chuuya didn’t catch the desolation in your tone, but he says nothing. His fingers begin to detangle your messy hair in feather-soft strokes. Chuuya tended to melt into you without trying. Curl up around you keeping you comfortable enough to fall asleep in any environment. This position draws your face to the crook of his neck magnetically. A place molded to fit your head perfectly. Often, it was the only place that properly hid you from your thoughts and exhaustion when the world became too much at once. You inhale; his skin pebbles. He always smelled like sea salt and vanilla. He swears he puts cologne on but after working so much his natural scent clings to his skin and it’s much more intoxicating. His left hand slithers up and down your back drawing nonsensical patterns in your skin. Down your shoulder to the valley both blades create, following your spine lazily, methodically.  His dexterous fingers spread open to reach the skin that encases your rib cage touching light enough it’s almost a tease. Chuuya’s gestures come from the depths of his emotions that so often tumble beneath the surface. Trained in the art of persuasion and deception he’s better at hiding what he’s thinking than he lets on. It’s all a matter of if he cares enough to do so or not. You tangle your legs together with his, thankful you’d forgone wearing anything to bed. Summer heat tended to creep into your bedroom despite the air conditioning, and the man beside you could melt chocolate with his touch. With Chuuya's skin constantly overheating (Arahabaki in the shadows) it was surprising his layers didn’t bother him. On cold winter mornings it was magnificent against your chilled face. In the summer he’d laze about in only his underwear with the air conditioning blowing, keeping you just cold enough to need the warmth from his skin. (He claims it’s not on purpose but you like to think it is).  Heat had begun to spread the moment he pressed you up against him and held you like you’d disappear if he loosened his grip. Right now the little crook beneath his ear that curved down his neck forming a broad muscular shoulder happened to be the perfect temperature to soothe your headache. Chuuya cuddles you closer when he notices the tension dissipating. His head turns slightly to rest against your forehead, the soft ghost of his breath trails over the shell of your ear each time he exhales.  Whatever alcohol remained in your system had slowly begun to recede with Chuuya’s presence. Falling asleep rather than passing out cold seemed to aid in the depletion of your headache, and truthfully, being with him cured every part of you. Scientifically correct or not--it always worked even when you were pissed at him. Chuuya’s chest softly begins to vibrate as your eyes flutter shut. A gentle tempo that remains tranquil but familiar.. Chuuya’s humming finally settles the ball of nerves tied up in your stomach. The last remaining irritation of the night quietly begins to melt away at the edges leaving your heart frayed and tender. Pure exhaustion was overpowering your will to stay awake and wait for Chuuya’s answer. Against your own command your eyelids droop and soak your environment in black. ++++++++++++++ Fuck that wine. From the moment you peeled your eyes open it felt like someone nestled their way into your skull to continuously pound it with a ball peen hammer. Your legs twist in the sheets as you try to get comfortable again and turn away from the sunlight sneaking through the window. Your arm smacks against the mattress, it felt strikingly cold. “Chuuya?”. The only response you receive is a small rustling from outside the bedroom door. A soft hum. Music? Something. You flop onto your back and force your eyes open. Thankfully the dizziness subsided permanently, unfortunately it’s counterpart (a killer migraine) still throbbed to the point that you were halfway convinced your eyeballs were physically pounding. “Chuu?” You call again, twisting on the bed until your bare feet hit the hardwood.  Chuuya’s shirt fits comfortably over your head. Instinctively you inhale sharply holding the collar close to your nose before it settles and the smell of eggs draws you out of the bedroom. Normally you’d walk out completely naked but you felt beyond shitty. Lazily you tug up a pair of sweatpants and meander out into the kitchen in search of your boyfriend. Chuuya turns over a shoulder and gives you a soft smile. His back muscles were getting bigger, or perhaps the way he was holding the pan made them bulge. Regardless he looked damn good cooking you breakfast in a tight shirt bathed in morning light. “Good morning baby. Hungry?” Your stomach growls loud enough to echo down the street. Chuuya laughs and sets two plates down at your small table. Omurice, toast, and a few strips of bacon he’d picked up from some fancy market in Tokyo the last time he went. “Good. You need the protein after throwing everything up last night.” Chuuya pads over to you arms immediately wrapping around your waist snuggling you close against his bare chest. “I’m sorry baby.” He says for at least the fifth time. Two soft kisses to your forehead, one on your nose and a final on your lips. You slump against him letting your arms remain limp at your sides. “I figured out what I can do for you though. What you deserve.” “Oh?” Your arms find themselves around his waist, fingers spreading out to feel the rigid muscles in his lower back flex beneath your touch. Chuuya nods forehead now resting against yours. Sunlight funnels through the window scattering amber over the floor. Cresting Chuuya’s right side and across to the middle of his throat bathing him in light. The man truly emulated warmth and fuck he was more gorgeous than the sunrise itself. “Breakfast together. Every morning. Some days I’ll cook for you. Some days we’ll go out before work, and some days…” Chuuya begins to trail soft kisses down the side of your throat. Catching your breath suddenly becomes much harder with his mouth tasting your skin, “we’ll have breakfast in bed. I’ll eat you...and then we can eat together.” He chuckles darkly, waiting for the words to unfold in your head. “How can I turn that offer down?” Your fingers glide up the back of his neck carding through his hair. Chuuya sighs into your touch but continues the lazy, deliberately gentle line of kisses over the curve of your shoulder then backwards until he reaches your collarbone. “My place---” you gasp sharply, Chuuya loved to bite that spot on your neck, “or yours?”. Chuuya hums in thought hands now trailing down your curves around to the swell of your ass. “Whoever gets off work last goes to the other’s place. So, probably here a lot.” Chuuya squeezes, low growls emitting from his throat when you jolt into him. “Means you gotta actually buy food for me to cook.” You rise up on your toes moving closer and away from his grip on your ass. You couldn’t give in easy just yet, where was the fun in that? “Mmmm..but what if I like starting off the day with your cock?” You muse, teasingly dragging the sharp edges of your nails down his shoulder blades. Even through his shirt Chuuya’s shoulders were overly sensitive. Another set of animalistic growls erupts from him. He squeezes harder and nips at the center of your throat. “Guess I’ll have to give you what you want then, won’t I?” He smirks crookedly. You yelp when his hands dip between your thighs splitting them open to lift you up and onto the counter. “But first,” he murmurs, thumbs digging circles against your inner thighs, “I get my breakfast.” Chuuya leans into you, hips slotted between your trembling thighs so he can kiss you until you’re dizzy. Your hands wind up back in his hair holding him close. You inhale him greedily, savoring the taste of him in your mouth. Your sweatpants join Chuuya’s shirt on the floor in a puddle of fabric. The heat from his body sweeps you up into the clouds. You weren’t sure if it was the hangover, the speed in which Chuuya had you spread open on the kitchen counter or a combination of them both but your head was already fogged. Chuuya’s breath along your thigh keeps you lucid enough to feel every movement he makes. The tickle of his hair on your leg, the gentle prodding of his thumb spreading open your wet lip and the oh so lewd sweep of his tongue up your pussy. “Fuck!” You gasp, hair tugging roughly at the bundle of red hair between your fingers. Chuuya’s chuckle vibrates up your core. His tongue expertly flattens against your pussy, long strokes beginning at your entrance ensuring to taste every inch of your folds all the way up to your clit. The edge of his tongue flicks over the swelling bud once or twice before descending through your lips again. Chuuya moans into you, muttering praises of your taste between licks and prods of his tongue deep inside you. “Ch-Chuu!” The knot in your stomach was near ready to snap. “Do it baby. Right on my fucking tongue.” Chuuya commands, looking up at you from between your legs momentarily before returning to his work. Chuuya’s two fingers hold your pussy open for his tongue to explore. Dipping in and out, traveling up to tease and suck on your clit until stars burst behind your eyes and you’re moaning incoherently. Chuuya doesn’t waste a drop. “So good..” his praises are saturated with lust, “fuck you taste so good.” Arousal smears across his cheeks and lips as he cleans the mess between your legs. Gentle licks and motions, just enough to begin overstimulation to carry over into what would come next. You curl over him trying not to fall off the counter. Chuuya gets to his feet, hands remaining on your shoulders to give you leverage as he discards his sweatpants revealing his fat hard cock red and dripping pre-cum. You lick your lips and reach for him, pumping it a few times in an off-beat rhythm. “Already fucked out baby?” He taunts playfully, lips still glistening with your cum. You pout at him and jerk him forward by the hair. Chuuya laughs, using the motion to line his cock up with your weeping entrance. “Yeah? You want it that bad?” Your hips jerk forward when the head rubs up against your clit. “Chuuya!” You huff, switching tactics. His eyes widen to saucers moan loud and deep enough it rattles in your chest. Your fingers tweak and tug at his pebbled nipples egging him on to submit. Or piss him off. Regardless, the outcome would be the same. “Do you want it that bad? Just one touch..” you mimic his teasing tone. Chuuya’s eyes narrow, chest still puffed out towards your hands. “I always want you.” He replies, punctuating the last word with a jerk of his hips. Your head lolls back in surprise, the burn of his cock stretching you out to the hilt makes your toes curl. “Ohfuck!” You choke on air; Chuuya is quick to grip your hips and bite down on your throat. His pace is relentless. Needy. Sticky, hot and slick. You keep one arm wrapped around his neck the other slanted back on the counter for balance. Chuuya buries his face in the crook of your neck as he fucks your hard and deep. Your knees end up by his ribs allowing you to cross your ankles behind him. The angle change makes Chuuya moan deep against your skin. Somehow, his speed picks up sending you bouncing up and down on his cock. Every stroke inside you hits that sweet bundle of nerves that keeps you moaning his praises. “Fuck--” he grits his teeth and slides one hand down to hold you up by your ass lifting you off the counter. He grunts again, moving in just a few steps into the center of the kitchen. Chuuya drops to his knees with the aid of his ability and places you on your back, hips following the natural path of gravity to push his cock deeper inside you. “Fuck..there..” he murmurs, shifting his hands to your thighs pressing them back until your knees reach your shoulders. “Just like that baby..fuck you’re so god damn beautiful..” His eyes glisten, gemstone blue clouded in the haze of arousal and pleasure. This position was so lewd and fuck it turned you on knowing Chuuya was watching you like this. Vulnerable and split open by his throbbing cock. Chuuya tilts his chin down mesmerized by the view of his cock pistoning in and out of your wet pussy. Cum and slick squirting against him with every harsh thrust forward. Your back arcs off the floor; the head of his cock relentlessly slams into your g spot until you’re cumming again. “G-goodgirl!” Chuuya sputters out, pounding into you three more times before he’s spilling inside of you gasping your name in a sultry, silky voice only you get to hear. Chuuya rolls his hips a few more times in rhythmless sputters before collapsing (gently) on top of you. Sweat matting his bangs left and right, skin a rosy pink and body taut. You wrap a shaky arm around his back, eyes fluttering closed. “Mm..you doin’ okay?” He asks, pushing himself up with one elbow to look at you. “Yeah…fuck..” you couldn’t even think straight let alone articulate just how good you were feeling now. Chuuya smiles--the rest of the world doesn’t compare to the brightness of it, you think. “You’re forgiven.” You finally say, long exhale following. Chuuya beams and kisses your nose. “I am sorry baby. And I promise we’re going to eat breakfast together every morning.” Chuuya rolls to his side bringing you with him. Your leg ends up thrown over his hip and his arm pulls you flush to his chest. “I love you ______. I love you so fuckin’ much.” Chuuya drops kisses along your cheek as he speaks. “I love you too, Chuu.”
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bonesofapoet · 4 years ago
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ABANDONED VALOR
[frank castle x musician!reader]
author’s note: one of those 'i didn't want you to see me like this, but here we are anyway." things, in which our beloved musician!reader figures out who frank castle Really Is. we all knew i would come back to them eventually. implied violence, blood/injury, Feelings.
word count: 1394
ao3: here
Almost every morning, he woke from a dream.
It wasn’t always the same dream – rarely was it, actually – but the themes were the same, the plot was similar, and he always felt like he’d been shot in the chest, in the stomach, in the heart.
Dreaming about you – that only meant he had gotten too close, is all.
Fuck.
August melted seamlessly into September, the nights growing colder, longer, darker. Summertime sadness drifted off over the sea into the Southern Hemisphere, and that occasional Winter Depression dipped it’s toes in it’s cousin’s place, ready to fill those shoes when the time felt right.
Frank Castle felt the chill of the wind tickle the tips of his ears, tugged the worn leather jacket closer to his body with his hands buried in the pockets. You were walking beside him, arm carelessly, casually, looped through his. He kept eye contact with you scarce, only glanced at you from the corner of his always alert, always on edge gaze.
He had a job to handle that night, and he wasn’t about to let you be caught in the middle of it.
Frank held your old, sticker covered guitar case while you unlocked the door to your apartment building. He reminisced silently over the familiar weight, the familiar feel of having an instrument he loved in his hands for the first time in months, years, eons. He almost forgot what doing something for joy was like, then wondered if that’s why he hadn’t jumped town yet; left without saying goodbye.
Your apartment was very you, the signs you just played a gig prevalent in the organized chaos that overtook the most prominent spaces of your place. Sheets of music scattered on this table, open notes here, lyrics scrawled on scraps of paper there. Empty guitar stands, small holes in the decor void of practice amps and effects pedals. The equipment that belonged in those voids stayed with your band for the night; all you needed was your acoustic and the man who had breathed fresh life into your lungs.
Ars longa, vita brevis you said, when he commented on the way your music worked it’s way into your apartment decor. ‘Art is long, life is short.’ Art doesn’t wait for organization. When inspiration is there. . . it doesn’t wait until you’re primed and ready for pretty note taking. It comes in messy waves and late night dreams; it follows me home on the train when all I have is my phone recorder and a shitty Starbucks napkin.
Fair enough, he answered, lips tilted in that almost-smile, the one that made your heart beat fast against your rib cage. Frank respected the shit out of your artistry, your undying commitment to it – this was not an easy thing to chase, as a hobby or professionally.
God, he fucking missed playing music.
He waited until you were fast asleep, the movie still flickered soft neon colors in the darkness when he slipped out the front door and let himself out.
He wanted nothing more than to stay with you, just for one night. And maybe he should have, because he fucking hated that he came back instead of sticking to protocol, instead of going back to his apartment where no one could trace him back to you.
Whispered curses, heavy footfalls, soft thuds of jostled furniture. The noise of Frank’s return was careful, quiet, controlled. He wasn’t loud enough to pull you away from dreams being dreamt, but you never slept when Frank slipped out into the night. Never dreamed. It was a lazy doze at best, part of your soul reaching out to the soft embrace of a healing sleep, the other clawing for every part of the world to keep awake.
You found him in the bathroom, door half closed with the sink rinsing away the gore from his hands, then freeing it from his face. It was like a second skin, the way shades of red clung to him in varying stages. Rain slick freshness, also tough, dried, aged.
Wide eyes met guarded ones in the mirror’s reflection under the harsh, bright light. The early stages of a black eye began to blossom over Frank’s right eye, and you tensed – he didn’t miss the way you stopped short, the way words died right there in your throat, before they ever left your lips.
Your heart constricted once, twice, thrice – when your eyes finally adjusted from leaving the dark. Knuckles bright red, deep blue, swollen and raw from constant use. An arm cried crimson, begging for anything to stop the tears. Tender ribs, plum colored bruises blossomed the length of his side, around his jaw. That, too, had already begun to swell. He wore the beautiful colors of a sunset on his skin, though instead of being inspired, he threatened to break your heart and paint the tile floor with the rising tides of emotion.
This man with night blooming gardens for armor, for bones, for a life. It was breathtaking, nonetheless.
“Let me,” you said, voice quiet in strained silence. Tentative fingers closed around his shaking hand, took hold of the alcohol ready to kiss his injuries clean.
The fresh thrum of adrenaline went ignored as you worked, slow and efficient. Every time he hissed in pain, clenched hands around the counter top to keep from flinching – the deep ache in your soul flared something bright and fierce and ruthless.
What remained of the night passed primarily without conversation. The occasional questions left your lips, and Frank refused to lie to you. He knew you deserved better than this, than him, than everything his life entailed – but he was not going to poison what little solid ground this – whatever this was – had found by candy coating truths.
When the sky began to deliver the safety of daybreak, he was finally able to meet your eyes without fear. The blue hour was in it’s prime, dripped fresh, thick emotion heightened by a sleepless night. The contrast of his broken body to the regret that made home in his eyes – well.
This sure as shit was not what you signed up for.
“At least,” you spoke, unsure of so many things – unsure of what he expected you to say, after making it quite clear that no, I’m not going to throw you out, and yes, this isn’t ideal, but I knew, Frank. I knew there was something more to you. I knew it wasn’t conventional when you dodged my questions about what you do for a living. “At least you’ve given me new material to write about. Discreetly, of course.”
His shoulders shook before you heard the quiet laughter. It was natural, the smile that broke your sullen expression.
“Always the artist,” his voice was hoarse, but tension melted with the shadows. Soft peony pink light gave chase to unease. The night had begun to settle, and nothing seemed impossible when the sun illuminated skeletons in the closet.
Steady fingertips lifted to graze skin that still resembled skin, traced his cheekbones and threaded through his dark hair. Your touch was feather light, barely there, yet it still made Frank’s heartbeat rage more than any fight ever could.
In that moment, he made up his mind.
History was not going to repeat itself – not this time. Not in this city. Not with you.
A marred hand reached to twine with the one at your side, always gentle, always kind. You minded his injuries best you could, but he would rather feel the white hot flash of pain by your hand than by that of any other.
You lost yourselves in one another, but it was different that night, that morning, that place where time wasn’t quite one thing, nor the next. The lines blurred, then disappeared altogether, because the only thing that mattered was the grasp of those moments. The stark existence of a simple life made of anything other.
When you drifted off to sleep, his fingertips left ember trails smoldering along bare skin. You wondered if you loved him.
You were glowing with golden dust from fallen stars, glittering bright and hazy and he knew, deep, deep down, where this could go, what this could be. If he were someone else, if this was another life.
He slipped out before the sun rose above the horizon.
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ikonct95 · 4 years ago
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Because I’ll Never Be With You
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The underground train moved in a  fast yet very smooth pace that Johnny falsely believed that he wasn’t moving, the train standing still at the station. 
The fluorescent light glared harshly down at him, making the honey haired idol closed his eyes at the invasion. 
The train compartment was lit brightly, a harsh contrast to the dark blue and indigo painted sky outside. It was evening and Johnny had finally managed to leave the dance studio after being there since eight in the morning, preparing for 127′s latest comeback.
He was sweaty, exhausted and hungry. His muscles ached with every jostle the train made but he was too tired to even complain about the slight pain he was feeling. Instead, he continued to close his eyes and fall in to a brief slumber. 
His head jostled awake when the train came to a slow stop. Opening his eyes, Johnny bleary read the flashing neon red sign that read the current stop. Fearing he’d miss his stop and would have to get a cab. However, the neon red sign informed him that he had three more stops before he arrived his destination. Good. Enough time for him to rest and regain his energy enough to buy take out on his way home.
The train started to move again and just as he was about to close his eyes and return to his slumber, his ears were met with an oddly familiar melody. A melody he hadn’t heard for nearly five years. 
Opening his eyes, he scanned the compartment for the source of the melodic laughter. His eyes landed on an average hight woman who stood close to the doors. Her dark brown, almost black hair, fell to her shoulders. She was dressed in a white sun dress and Johnny winced at the wedge heeled sandals she wore. Perfectly imagining the aching pain his own feet would feel if he stood in the train for ever how long he needed to in those sandals. 
The woman was holding onto the pole next to her, pressing her side to the long metal. Her hand was covering her mouth as she tried to smother her laughter in hopes to not bother anyone. 
The sound of her laughter had Johnny’s heart aching in nostalgia, remembering all the times he had made her laugh. 
And just as he was about to stand up and greet her for good o’l time’s sake, Johnny finally acknowledge the muscled arm wrapped firmly around her waste. Trailing after the arm, he was met with a tall man. Almost taller than him. His hair was dyed a silver color that fell on his left eye. He wore a black shirt under a black leather jacket and a black pair of jeans. Johnny wanted to snort at the attire but he suddenly remembered that the woman had always been smitten by the “edgy” and “Rock N Roll” and he drowned in dread. 
It had been five years since he’d last seen her. Five years since they had their biggest fight that had the both of them crying and screaming at the top of their lungs. Five years since they both had agreed that the best thing was for them to break up.
It was difficult. They were childhood friends and high school sweethearts. They even planned to get married. But the music industry in Korea was harsh and demanding. They always pressured Johnny to break up. Though, Johnny never listened and stood his ground. 
However, the two grew tired of the long distance relationship. They grew tired of the excuses of the missed birthdays and anniversary. Tired that they couldn’t really be in each other’s lives due to the different time zones they both resided in. It was difficult and they both tried with all their might to make it work but it wasn’t enough.
Johnny watched with heart-rending eyes as the taller man leaned down and whispered something in her that caused her to chuckle again and playfully smack his chest. The man had a teasing smirk on his lips as he stared down at her. 
He remembers a time when Johnny used to do the same; try to make her laugh just to sweet that honey sweet laugh that she produced. Always telling her whatever new joke he had learned or whatever funny video he’d seen on YouTube. 
His stomach churned at the distant fond memory. Tears collected at the corner of his eyes. 
Oh, how Johnny longed to be the man making you laugh. 
His mind cruelly presented to him a play of the both of them in that very same position, still together - their fight from five years ago never happened - and she had come to pick him up after practice to get pizza on the way home to watch Netflix and just spend a relaxing night together. 
His mind was merciless as it kept displaying images, old and new, of the both of them together. Living their lives happily together, stronger than ever.  
A single tear slid down his tanned cheek and Johnny quickly raised his hand up to wipe away the tear. 
And, in that moment, the woman looked away from the man she was with to stare out the window across from her when her eyes caught his. Her dark brown eyes widened in surprise before they blinked back to normal and her expression becoming black. 
Johnny didn’t look away. Didn’t blink. He just kept staring into her eyes, praying that this moment would never end. 
It was a brief indirect interaction but it felt as if time had frozen and the moment lasted a life time. 
Weakly, Johnny managed to lift his lips upwards into a smile. Unaware of the sadness drowning in his dark honey colored eyes. 
Perhaps that’s the reason why the woman returned the smile, albeit smaller. Maybe she felt sympathetic towards him, over the heartbreak he was experiencing that clearly wasn’t mutual on her end due to the man standing close to her. Whatever the reason was, Johnny was going to take it. It had been five years. 
And that small moment between them, where the world around them had disappeared, vanished in a blink of an eyes as the train came to a slow stop and for the silver haired man to unwrap his arm from her waist to instead interlock his hand with hers and tug her towards the open doors. 
The woman never looked back as she followed after him. 
And Johnny never looked away from the closed doors as the train began to move. 
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greenglasslov3 · 5 years ago
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Forget Me Not - Chapter 8: Black Orchid
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A/N: Soundtrack for this chapter is Billie Eilish’s Bad Guy and many thanks to @missclairebelle​ for our writing power hours and giving me a swift kick in the pants when I need it.
Ch.1 / Ch.2 / Ch.3 / Ch.4 / Ch.5 / Ch.6 / Ch.7
Chapter 8: Black Orchid
Later that night…
The throbbing base pulsed loudly around Geillis and Claire as they entered the club.  Heavy and intense, the latter’s teeth rattled in her skull with every undulation.  Acrid smoke billowed from a hidden fog machine and filled her nose with its bitter perfume.  Neon lasers and phosphorescent lights cut through the darkness, a spattering of technicolor rays against a black canvas.  With each flash, a new tableau of writhing bodies appeared - flickering scenes in the high contrast black and white of a classic film.  A husky voice echoed from the speakers, hypnotizing the club’s patrons further into her clutches with her siren’s call.
Creeping around like no one knows Think you're so criminal Bruises, on both my knees for you Don't say thank you or please I do what I want when I'm wanting to My soul? So cynical
And Claire wondered how in the hell she got here.
Geillis.
The moment Geneva (she carved the name in blood red ink and underlined it three times in her diary to commit it to memory) left her shop she’d texted her partner in crime.
S.O.S. I cocked it all up for sure this time. And btw we need to find a boyfriend named Tom.
It didn’t take much to rally the troops.  Within half an hour, the blonde arrived at the flower shop, a flask of very potent whisky in hand.  She cackled loudly, rivaling the witches of lore when Claire unearthed the champagne intended for her earlier meeting.  Their giggles only increased after they’d drained a bottle each before venturing out to the club.
Claire squinted against the glaring strobes and blamed the bubbly spirit for her heightened sensitivities.  Her surroundings reminded her of some perverse circus - too brash, too bright, too blunt.  Typically, she preferred intimate pubs and live music provided by local entertainment - cozy yet worn upholstery, richly stained mahogany, and a pitchy tenor with a guitar.  They were comfortable and casual like an old uni jumper… but she was on a mission where slubby, misshapen yarn would not suit.
“Tonight, I’ll make you my pet,” Geillis had promised.
Bubbly in hand, the pair had ascended the staircase to Claire’s messy flat, where they rifled through endless piles of laundry - all clean, but limp and wrinkled carelessly deposited in enough mounds to create a small mountain range throughout the florist’s bedroom.  Geillis critiqued every article of clothing she owned, holding the offending articles with pinched fingers, arm fully extended and nose wrinkled until she found the ensemble worthy of bringing all men (and probably most women) to their knees to worship at the altar of St. Claire of Little Flowers.
“Black Orchid,” Geillis had explained as she spritzed her friend with some sickeningly sweet perfume. “It’ll drive the lads wild.”
Hair painstakingly straightened, eyelids dusted in smoky shadows, and torso tightly corseted in the thick wrappings of a crimson bandage dress, Claire leaned against the bar.  First and foremost, she wished to relieve her aching feet from the tortuous stilettos that bound her ankles with flimsy ribbons (she wondered how ballerinas managed such feats of graceful athleticism when she could barely stand).  Secondly, she gripped the cool stone ledge for balance as the swirling light show and the bottle of champagne (on an empty stomach, mind) left her feeling more than a tad off kilter.  Thirdly, Geillis had vanished the moment they arrived at the club, abandoning her morals along with breaking one of the holiest laws in girl code: one does not leave one’s friend alone at a club.
Claire hissed as her elbows collapsed onto the sharp counter’s edge.  Though it didn’t hurt much now with her ragged nerves numbed into submission with alcohol, her fingers massaged the tender skin of the joint.  She’d certainly have bruises tomorrow, but she didn’t care.  Nothing could rival the wounds that marred her heart.
Her reputation ruined…
Her competency questioned…
Her relationship with Jamie further tangled in the web of lies she wove...
“Oi!” The bartender’s cries rang out above the din, and Claire’s head snapped upwards suddenly in response.  Hasty hands roughly push a glass across the counter towards her, sloshing excess liquid over the rim and onto Claire’s fingers as she intercepted the tumbler.
“From ‘im,” he explained as his head jerked sharply to the left, towards the opposite end of the bar where she spied a man.
A handsome one at that.
While the flashing lights against the pitch darkness of the club around them did little to reveal the specifics (the color of his eyes, hair, and skin a mystery in high contrast black and white), they highlighted his attributes brilliantly.  He perched on a stool, reclining back against the bar on his left elbow as if he were sunning himself in the harsh rays of the violent lasers.  The glaring strobes highlighted the peaks and valleys of his well-defined musculature visible beneath the simple cotton tee that clung to his frame.  His right arm hung by his side, the fingers of his right hand gripped the top edge of his glass with casual confidence.  He brought the dram (color and liquor choice imperceptible at Claire’s distance and state of inebriation) to his lips.  He swallowed and his jaw flexed, clenching and relaxing as the liquid trickled down his throat.  As she watched him, she found herself hypnotized by the stubble on his chin and the fullness of his lips, secretly wishing to taste them herself.  
Even if it was only to wash away the bitter sting of lost love.
Pressing the glass to her lips, Claire tossed back half its contents (wincing slightly at the sharp tang of gin and lime on her tongue) before slipping into the crowd.  A snake in the grass, she silently slithered through the narrow spaces between the bodies that separated her from her prey.  She sought him out, lids narrowing as she honed in on her target.  When fate left the seat next to him perfectly empty, she stole her chance, sliding onto the vacant stool.
“Thank you…” Claire bellowed, desperately trying to make her request breathy and wanton yet still heard over the throbbing base.  Swiveling on her stool, she crossed one leg over the other and leaned in towards the man in question, tipping her chest forwards to offer him the best angle to appreciate her dress.
He didn’t turn, shoulders squared and gaze straight ahead as he sipped his drink.
“Thank yer friend,” he shouted back in between nips, nodding towards the throng writhing on the dance floor. “She said ye were lookin’ for me?”
Flipping her hair back, Claire cast a glance over her shoulder just in time to catch Geillis at the edge of the crowd.  She shimmied in time with the music as she walked, her hand clasped firmly in the grasp of a much older man (the glare of blinking strobes against his completely bald head betrayed his age).  She winked towards the bar and offered her approval with a quick thumbs up before disappearing behind the curtain to the VIP section.
That bloody witch.
“... I’m Tom,” he turned to her then as his introduced himself.
One eyebrow cocked, Tom flashed her a smile - an almost wolfish grin that revealed pearly white teeth.  In the flashing disco lights, his eyes twinkled with a hidden mischief perfectly intended for nights such as these.  The tip of his tongue darted out to wet his lips, and Claire wondered if he truly knew the affect his boyish charms had on women (and men for that matter).
“Tom Christie.”
With the second utterance of his name, the brilliant machinations of one Geillis Duncan slowly clicked into place in Claire’s inebriated state.  She certainly found him handsome enough, and she thanked her past self for offering Geneva a first name (and a common one at that) for her aforementioned beau.  She might even have a little fun playing this game of revenge with Jamie and his child bride...
“Well, Tom…” she repeated his name, allowing the letters to fill her mouth.  The T zinged against the roof of her mouth and tickled her nose like the fizzy champagne she’d enjoyed just an hour ago.  The O and the M blended together in a harmonious chant, a breathy moan rumbling deep in her throat.
The smile fell from Tom’s face, his expression turning mercurial.  Claire smirked behind the lip of her glass before downing the second half of her drink.  She slapped the empty tumbler against the countertop and grabbed for Tom’s hand, pulling him from his perch.
“Let’s dance, shall we?”
She took three… four… five steps before her elbow locked stick straight and her body recoiled backwards, the bungee cord of her tendons snatching her just before she fell.  Rather than tripping over her own two feet, Tom gathered her to his chest, capturing her in the iron bands of his arms.  The aftershocks of her near nose-dive rocked them both.  With Claire nestled in the triangle of his thighs, they slowly swayed - nose to nose, chest to chest, hip to hip.  Her pulse pounded in her ears in time with the thundering base in the club.
So you're a tough guy Like it really rough guy Just can't get enough guy Chest always so puffed guy
“No’ so fast…” he murmured, his lips inches from hers as he released one hand to motion for another round of drinks.  “Ye owe me a wee favor as well…”
“Oh?” Claire sighed, rocking back on her heels.
Their replenished drinks materialized, a magic trick produced with the snap of Tom’s fingers and his devious smirk.  He tapped the rim of his glass against hers before taking a generous swig.  Claire matched his pace.  She found the icy yet tart liquid now refreshing as it cooled the boiling blood that now raced through her veins, flushing her skin pink.
He bent his head, bringing his lips to the outer shell of her ear to whisper all sorts of naughty secrets.  The gesture flooded her mind with memories of that afternoon, when Jamie had done just the same… She shivered at the chill that ran up her spine, her body shimmying closer to her present admirer, and she felt him smirk against her cheek.
“Ye see her?” Tom whispered, his breath tickling the soft skin along her neck.  His free hand left her waist to point towards the dance floor, where Geillis had been just moments before.
Claire turned her head and brought her drink to her lips, using the glass to disguise where her eyes chose to wander.  As she spied the girl in question, her breath hitched, nearly choking on her limey tonic.  She was a total stranger, though the florist’s stomach turned with queer recognition at the sight of her.
She was a slight thing - petite in build and stature.  Her milky skin glowed in the dark cavern of the club.  Her willowy limbs danced above her head, swaying like branches bending in a breeze.  Dark hair crowned her head, thick tresses gathered into a tight ponytail piled painfully high on her skull.  Her lithe frame writhed against some guy (could’ve been Tom… could’ve been Jamie…) as her eyes narrowed to snake-like slits, zeroing in on her observer from across the room.  Their gazes met through the murky lens of her drink, and Claire’s stomach dropped suddenly.
Tipping her head back, she finished the final dregs of gin before the glass slipped from her fingers and clattered loudly against the counter.  She swallowed hard against the bile that bubbled at the back of her throat.  Eyes shut, she inhaled deeply through her nostrils before slapping her hand down twice, signaling for a third round.
It couldn’t be...
Ghostly visions of Jezebel temptresses danced behind her closed lids.  First, Geneva appeared with her cruel smile and child-like demeanor.  Her ostentatious diamond glittered on her finger as she waggled it dramatically in front of Claire’s face.  She spun suddenly, pivoting on her heel while she rolled her hips.  When she returned to face the florist once more, she was gone… and Malva stood in her place.  Her prized pupil mocked her with feigned sweetness, while poison dripped from her lips.  Her fingers smoothed a striped tie dangling between her breasts.  It’d been Frank’s… the very same silk that had bound the student’s wrists when she discovered them in his office one afternoon… 
The glass bottom of a decanter met the wood counter with a loud thunk as the barkeep deposited two more drinks before Claire and Tom.  She shook her head before she grabbed at the glass and greedily sucked down the liquid, hoping to quell any further nightmares staring the ghosts of mistresses past.  Still, her hands trembled as Tom clasped one within his own.
“She’s my ex - Mona,” he spat, glaring daggers at the dance floor.  “Cheated on me with my own brother.”
Cheated.
Claire knew the term intimately - strongly steeped in her morning tea, lurking behind the shadowy corners in the house she thought they’d made a home, hidden within the luscious petals  Betrayal left the deepest of wounds weeping with infection, never to fully heal and scars always newly pink and raw.  It was a vile toxin that flooded her body with jealous fevers and that left the bitter taste of uncertainty on at the back of her mouth.
“Care to help me make her jealous, hmm?” Tom’s question broke through her reverie.
Could she?
Claire’s eyes quickly darted between Tom’s smile and his outstretched hand and back once more to his face.  Now with his face inches from hers, the steely blue-grey of his gaze turned her knees to water.  He caught his bottom lip between his teeth, and the only thought dominating Claire’s mind was the image of her sucking the plump skin there between her own lips.  Her mind cried out in protest, battered and war-torn with cautionary tales of what happened when she fell for mysterious men too fast… but the alcohol flowing freely in her veins encouraged her to be bold and to satisfy that hungry basal need gnawing deep in her belly.
She placed her hand in his, signing a deal with this silver-eyed devil.
With a hand gently pressed to the small of Claire’s back, Tom guided her to the edge of the dance floor where the undulating throng lapped at their limbs, brushing against them like the tempting, warm waves of a late summer sea.  They swayed on the outskirts, hips pressed together as they slowly waded further and further from the shore.  Bodies wound around them, a revolving current that held them in the deep.  Entranced by the siren’s song that called out above the hypnotizing swell, they were drowning in an ocean of each other (skin, breath, heat)...
...but it wasn’t Tom Claire was dancing with…
Once she’d spun herself around in the circle of his arms, it was all too easy for her mind to wander.  In the dark - and after so many drinks - he could be anyone.  The strong hands that gripped her hips matched the make and model of a certain red-headed client, and her skin still erupted in goose flesh as he traced the lines of her body (just as he’d done in her dreams).  The firm muscles of his chest that braced her back were the perfect balance of firm-meets-soft (just as she’d hoped when she thought of resting her head there).  The small Scottish noises he mumbled against her ear brought her just to the precipice…  
The base bottomed out with a gasping whoosh, the water in their imaginary sea sucked down an imaginary drain.  Claire’s eyelids fluttered open - completely unaware that they’d even been shut - only to meet the gaze of her arch rival.
Malva. Geneva. Mona. 
She was back - the mysterious being who embodied all three women at once.  Her piercing gaze bore holes straight through Claire’s chest, where her heart hammered against her ribs.  Crimson painted lips parted into a sneer before a sinister cackle bubbled forth, taunting the florist with their youth and their beauty.  Fear gripped her belly and pushed her over the edge.  She pressed herself into the body (Jamie’s or Tom’s she was no longer certain) behind her.  Her hands wandered over his frame before reaching upward and tangling her fingers in his unruly locks.  He pressed his lips against the nape of her neck, sighing as she arched further into him.  The siren faded from view, and it was Claire’s turn to smirk.
You said she’s scared of me? I mean… I don’t see what she sees but  Maybe it’s ‘cuz I’m wearing your cologne...
Her head fell back against Tom’s shoulder as she pulled him closer, bringing his ear just to her lips.
“Let’s get out of here,” she murmured huskily before grasping his hand and pulling him through the crowd behind her.
The act of walking through a doorway is said to cause one to forget why they entered that room in the first place - a sort of temporary amnesia.  Coupled with copious amounts of alcohol, however, crossing a threshold could wipe one’s memory completely clean.
Once Claire exited the club, her short-term recollection flew away on the wings the brisk night air.  The rest of the evening came to her in a series of flashes, moments frozen in photographs preserved for posterity with the stories in between hazier than the early morning mist.  First, they were in a cab, hands roaming while mouths greedily nipped at fleshy lower lips.  Then, they were on the stairs of her flower shop, tripping on the uneven pitch and laughing at each other as they both fell flat on their backsides.  Finally, they were behind the closed door of her apartment and tumbling towards her bed - shirt, dress, and pants all carelessly tossed aside before they sunk into the pillowy depths of her mattress.
And then it all went black.
The violent light of midday streaked across her face and blinded Claire even with her eyes closed.  She scrubbed her eyes with balled-up fists in hopes she could block out some of the brilliant summer sun with her hands.  The pulsing base from the club found a permanent behind her temples, painfully throbbing before she had even fully awoken.  Her throat burned and her mouth tasted of cotton from the champagne and the three (or was it four?) gin and tonics she’d had the night before.  Every muscle in her body ached from the tips of her toes to the crown of her head.  She groaned aloud as she wondered if she’d gotten in some sort of fight last night (positive she’d have some bruises to make a seasoned boxer blush).
An even louder moan followed her own whine, and Claire froze, each joint in her body becoming rigid.  Her breath came short, panting as she tried desperately to fill her lungs to no avail before she finally cracked open one lid…
… only to find a naked Tom Christie lying next to her.
To be continued...
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Text
Seeing the Light - Research (4)
25/9/20
Researching Qualities of Light
There are different types of light, and different characteristics of light.  
Outdoor Lighting
Sunlight
Streetlights
Neon signs
Moonlight
Reflected light
Indoor
Window
Tungsten
Florescent
Artificial
Flash
Strobe
LED
Speedlight
Normal bulb
Mixed light
Sunlight and flash
Window and tungsten
Tungsten and florescent
Characteristics of light
Think about the direction of the light – where is it coming from?
Front
Side
45 degree
Back
Above
Below
The Degree of diffusion
Is the lighting soft or hard?
What is the colour temperature?
Is the lighting warm or cool toned? How does this change the atmosphere?
Examples of lighting
Direct light
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Back light
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Side light
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45 degree light
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Window light
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Soft light
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Hard light
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Below
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Things to consider during a shoot:
The light intensity – how bright or dim is the light source? How can you manipulate this to create a mood or atmosphere within the image?
Soft light is non-directional and diffused, so the shadows and highlights in the image will not contrast against each other.  The light will be more even on the subject.
Hard light is directional and harsh, so the shadows and highlights in the image will be well defined and create contrast within the image.
By moving the light source closer to the subject, the light will be softened.
Colour temperature can be used to create a mood within the image, a cool colour temperature will make the image feel cold and could convey feelings of isolation or sadness.  A warm colour temperature could convey feeing joyful or cozy.
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dannyphantomisameme · 6 years ago
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Lies (One Shot)
Genres: Drama and Comedy
(Links to Fanfiction and AO3)
"Dude hold still." Tucker fumbled with his PDA as he called out to Danny.
"Let's make this quick man." Danny replied. The trio stood in the Manson's backyard on a Saturday evening. The sun was slowly setting, halfway at the horizon, and the sky displayed vibrant colors of pink and orange. They had just finished their assignment for Lancer's class and as usual, the boys were goofing off.
"Ok, and…. Action!" Tucker called out. He was holding his PDA, recording their daily adventures. Danny stood off far in the distance near a tree as Sam sat on her patio overlooking the two boys.
Danny looked around and then shrugged while murmuring "guess I'll die". Suddenly, a bright white ring appeared at his waist and split into two vertically. His dark blue jeans and red and white plaid shirt was replaced by a black and white hazmat suit with neon green accents. He was floating in the air positioned in a typical fighting stance. The atmosphere around the iconic ghost boy became colder.
"CUT!" Tucker yelled and ran up to his best friend. The two high-fived and chuckled as Danny transformed back into his human form, his feet dropping to the ground. Sam face palmed from where she was. Idiots. They’re wasting my time. But then she smiled, ha, I still love these idiots nevertheless.
Sam stood up from her seat and shouted for the boys to come in. They ran up the stairs to the deck and entered back into her home. Sam was the richest person in Amity Park, other than the Fruitloop. They entered a modern kitchen, the black marble table tops matching the pristine white stove and refrigerator. Sam grabbed a vegetarian milkshake from the fridge and 2 soda's for the boys. She passed them over to them and they quickly popped the tabs, the fizzing sound filled the air.
"You guys are so stupid. We have another two hours to submit our video assignment for Lancer and I intend on it being in time." Sam pointed at the other two and they just snickered.
"Well, we may be stupid, but I want to remember the fun times Sam. And Tuck's video diary is the perfect way to record that stuff." Danny smiled his goofy lopsided grin. Gosh he's way too cute. WAIT, snap out of it Sam. He sipped a drink from his can and looked over at Tucker.
"I finished editing it anyways. We can go submit it on your laptop." Tuck said as he leaned back against the fridge door pointing at Sam.
"Ok, lets go to my room." Sam suggested, and they began to walk past the living room. They passed by Sam's grandma watching TV on the huge flat screen and greeted her. They walked step by step up the regal stairs, a grand glass chandelier hanging above their heads.
The walked past the multitude of doors, which contained gold engravings on their fronts to distinguish the rooms. They finally reached a black door and entered the huge gothic room. The walls were painted a dark maroon, filled with posters of bands, and a black four post bed stood in the center. A black dresser was placed off to the side as well as a matching desk. The purple curtains added a contrast to the maroon and black room. Sam's room was neat and organized, no doubt the work of her maid.
The trio plopped onto the bed, Tucker grabbed the laptop sitting on her comforter as Danny leaned back onto the pillows. Sam grabbed a pillow in the shape of a purple bat and hugged it. Danny and Sam started chatting about their other classes while Tucker connected his PDA to the computer and uploaded their assignment to Lancer's website.
Five minutes later Tucker finished submitting their video about the effects of Shakespeare on the field of literature. He let out a sigh of exhaustion, he knew his friends felt just as tired as him. They had been up last night fighting off Technus. That ghost can never get a break.
"And… done!" Tucker said as he threw up his hands in accomplishment. Danny and Sam patted him on the back for completion.
"Let's go watch a movie. I'm so tired and I don't feel like doing anything." Sam spoke as she hugged her pillow tighter.
"I call horror!" Danny raised his arm as he shouted. Tucker groaned, he hated horror. He was into drama, comedy, or his favorite, sci-fi.
"Yes! I need a good scare, but it's not that I find horror movies spooky." Sam said as she raised her fingers in the universal sign of 'boo'. The trio began to head downstairs again, grabbing snacks along the way.
The movie lasted two hours and Tucker was curled up into a ball by the end. I'm not going to be able to sleep tonight, am I? he thought. Danny and Sam mocked him, calling him a 'scaredy-cat'. Finally, the trio decided to have a sleepover at Sam's, so they grabbed their sleeping bags out of the closet. They talked for a while in Sam's room, the conversation jumping around from topic to topic. Finally they all fell asleep. The last sound heard was the snores of the trio as they slipped into their dreams.
xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx
Danny hurried through his shower. He quickly grabbed his towel and ran into his room, searching for his clothes. He found a pair of khaki joggers and a baby blue t shirt in his hamper and put them on. No time for the sniff test. He grabbed his backpack and stuffed his homework inside. I actually finished it for once. He ran out of his room, slammed the door, and slipped down the banister of the stairs. He grabbed a piece of toast from the table and greeted his parents.
"Hi mom, hi dad. Bye mom, bye dad." He stuttered out through his rush. He didn't wait for a reply and dashed out the door. He ran all the way to Tucker's, where his other two friends were waiting.
"Man, can you ever be on time?" Tucker asked as he crossed his arms in annoyance.
"S-sorry" Danny panted out through his harsh breathing. Running a couple of blocks in 4 minutes was tiring, even with his super speed. Sam chuckled at his disorganization and hasty appearance.
"Danny you look like death." Sam replied, still laughing and Danny just shrugged. They began walking towards the school where it would take another 10 minutes to reach it.
"Well I'm technically halfway there." Danny smiled, he was happy for reaching his friends before they embarked on their path to school. He was usually late, either from sleeping in or the freaking box ghost showing up in the middle of his shower (it was extremely tough to catch the nuisance while holding up a towel wrapped around his lower half to prevent it from falling).
They continued to talk and laugh as they walked to school. They finally reached the open double doors and walked in with other students. They turned right towards their lockers, going to Danny's, Sam's, and Tucker's respectively to grab their supplies. Students chatted as the trio passed by them, standing by their lockers. Once the three had their supplies they walked down to Lancers English classroom, chattering among themselves all the while. Immediately Lancer stood up as the trio entered the classroom, a nervous look on his face.
"Mr. Fenton, Ms. Manson, and Mr. Foley, the principal would like to speak to you three. Please head down there before class begins." He gestured towards the door awkwardly, unlike his usual sharp movements.
The three passed questioning glances towards each other, turned around, and headed towards Principal Ishiyama's office.
"What do you think this about?" Sam asked her best friends as she crossed her arms. Frustration rose in her being for being sent to the Principals for no specific reason.
"Probably my constant tardiness." Danny said as he shrugged. He nonchalantly walked as he shoved his hands into his pocket. He had been sent to the Principal's office quite often by Lancer for being late, so he thought this would be the same. Tucker just stared straight ahead, no doubt lost in thought about their possible encounter ahead.
The reached the principals office and swung the door open to enter. Mrs. Ishiyama was in her seat scrolling furiously through her computer. She looked up and saw 3 faces of confusement staring right back at her.
"Oh sorry, I didn't notice you there, please take a seat." She gestured to the 4 chairs in front of her desk and the trio sat down reluctantly and silently. "There have been some complications regarding your… um, project." She grabbed the remote on her desk and aimed it towards the TV, turning it on. Immediately the news station flashed and a familiar woman appeared, sitting at a desk.
"Good Morning Amity Park. My name's Tiffany Snow and I'm here to bring you the town's latest news." How did their project relate to the news? Danny thought. "Saturday night, Amity Park's resident teenager, Tucker Foley, uploaded a shocking video that may or may not change this town's beliefs." How is Shakespearean literature revolutionary? "Here's the video that may change you forever."
A video played on screen. Danny was standing by a tree and someone off camera had called action. Dread poured through Danny's body as he realized what the video was. The color drained from his face. The camera focused on Danny as he shrugged and muttered "guess I'll die", but then what happened next was shocking. A bright light flashed around his waist, and in place of Danny Fenton was Amity Park's greatest hero for 4 years, Danny Phantom.
Danny stopped breathing. He didn't know what to think other than the video replaying through his mind. He wasn't ready for the world to know, not everyone accepted him yet, especially his parents. I'M GOING TO KILL TUCKER… was the next thing Danny thought. Sam's head was in her hands and Tucker sat slack jawed staring at the TV.
The video ended and Danny was speechless, so were his friends. Principal Ishiyama turned the TV off and faced the trio, a nervous expression across her face.
"Is it true?" their principal squeaked as she sat back down in her desk.
"O-OF COURSE NOT! I-I mean, we uploaded the wrong video… uh, its an animation?" Danny said it as if it were a question and Sam stepped on his foot. "Ow-I mean I'm a HUGE fan of Danny Phantom and Tucker here is really good at animations." Tucker nodded aggressively at his side, mouth zipped in a tight line. "It almost looks real right? Hehe…" Danny nervously chuckled and hesitated to look his principal in the eye. He fidgeted with his hands and slowly looked up at the woman in front of him.
"Well I believe you. The graphics seemed somewhat inaccurate anyways." Danny almost shouted a 'hey' in defense, but decided against it and kept his mouth shut. "Your video has caused quite the commotion nevertheless. I've been receiving calls left and right since early this morning. I will inform the press about the video being a mishap. I would suggest that you upload the correct video this time, understood?" The three nodded vigorously. "Ok, you are dismissed. Please return to your first period classes."
The trio stood up and shuffled out of the office. Danny had to put so much effort into not lashing out at Tucker as they exited. Stragglers in the hallway stared at the trio as they stormed down the hall, no doubt having already seen the news.
They found the janitor closet that the typically went in when they wanted to discuss in secrecy. Danny phased them through the locked door and almost screamed at Tucker in reflex, but glared daggers at him instead. The anger within him simmered as his eyes flashed a ghostly green. Tucker gulped in fear.
"D-dude, I'm so sorry. I didn't know I uploaded the wrong video." Tucker said as he pinched his eyebrows together in an apologetic expression.
"Before you lash out Danny," Sam interjected, placing her arm between the two boys, "It's equally our fault for not checking the video after he posted it. You can't blame him. We avoided the issue anyways. You said it was an animation and people will believe it." Sam pleaded returning her hand to her side.
"Fine," Danny muttered as he crossed his arms and leaned against the shelf by the wall. "Lets just get to class, I don't need this now." They unlocked the closet door and exited the small space. They walked back to the classroom in silence, Danny leading them as he stomped in fury. Luckily, no one was in the halls.
They knocked on the door and Lancer was startled to see the trio as he answered. "You're back? Please take your seats." He opened the door fully and gestured towards the back of the classroom. The other students stared at Danny as he sat in his seat, and Danny just looked annoyed. Before Sam could shout at her classmates to back off, Danny beat her to it.
"It was an animation. I'm not phantom…" he rolled his eyes and threw his arms into the air in frustration. Students began whispering and Danny could hear everything they said through his heightened ghost hearing.
I knew Fenturd couldn't be Phantom, he's to wimpy. And he's a freak.
Phew, for a second there I thought I had a crush on the geekiest kid in school.
Ha ha. He wishes he could be Phantom. He's got muscles!
It's impossible for a human to be a ghost, right?
That's what Danny thought, until he became half ghost.
"Quiet students. I guess we've all seen the news and it was just a small mishap, right Mr. Fenton?" Lancer calmed down his students as he looked over to Danny who nodded and sunk down in his seat. Students were still staring at him and he almost banged his head on the desk in annoyance.
Lancer began to pull up students' assignments and displayed them on the screen. Students watched the board as it broadcasted their fellow classmates informing them about Shakespearean literature. The final video was the trio's work. Tucker must have submitted the correct video during class because the last video started with a mini play of Romeo and Juliet, acted by Danny and Sam respectively.
Finally the bell rang as the video neared its end and Danny ran out of the classroom. He didn't even wait for Sam and Tucker. He raced to the bathroom across the hall and locked himself within a stall. He didn't want to deal with the students in the hallway. Eventually Tucker found him and knocked on the door to his stall.
"Dude, you alright? You looked like hell was chasing you." Tucker asked in a concerning voice.
Danny put his head in his hands and rubbed his face in irritation. "That's because it is. I can't deal with everyone looking at me like that. I don't need this attention." He said as he got up and cracked the door of the stall slightly, peering out the sliver of space. Tucker stared back at him shaking his head.
"Get out, scaredy-cat. Just brush them off, their opinions don't matter. If you need to prove to them that it's fake, you can duplicate yourself and be Fenton and Phantom at once, kay?" Tucker pulled him out of the stall and they both went over to the sink to wash their hands.
"Whatever dude." Danny replied, but in reality, the reassurement from Tuck made him feel better. They both dried their hands and left the bathroom. The leftover 3 minutes of passing time was spent walking off to their calculus class, silence overwhelming the two. They met up with Sam and entered the classroom.
xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx
The rest of the school day went by quickly. Students stared and whispered at the trio all throughout the day, but Sam sent venomous glares to anyone who did, shutting them up. The three left the school together and walked to Tucker's and then split. Danny waved goodbye at his friends and headed home. Cars passed by and few citizens stopped to watch the teen walk and ask questions.
Danny was going to go insane. People would not stop pestering him, he couldn't catch a break. When he neared his home, he almost raced back in the opposite direction. News vans and reporters had gathered by his front door. The crowd consisted of at least 50 people. He thought of going invisible, but people would suspect something. So, he ran. Straight ahead.
He sprinted right through the crowd while they shouted questions at him. He felt as if his ear drums would burst due to all the noise affecting his heightened ghost hearing. He pushed through the people and finally reached the door. He twisted the handle. Locked, figures. Can't let the ghosts in. He ran to the other side of his yard and hopped over the fence. It was quite a tall wooden picket fence which would work in his favor, blocking out the crowd. Although he might give more evidence towards his increased agility and strength for the reporters, oh well. He got to the other side and dashed to the back door. It was locked as well. He fumbled for his keys through the mess in his backpack. He glanced up and noticed people trying to hop over the fence but having trouble. Yes. He found his keys, unlocked the door, and slammed it just as he got inside. He locked it from the inside and leaned his back against the door.
He let out a huge sigh of relief, just barely escaping the mob of news reporters. He looked up and saw a pair of furious parents. Oh shit. He forgot about them.
"Explain." His mother demanded. Her expression showed anger as well as sympathy. Her father displayed a little less anger than his mother, but disappointed nonetheless.
"Well, um…" Danny hesitated, "It's just an animation. You caught me… I'm just a fan of Phantom. It was created by Tuck… We accidentally uploaded the wrong video for our assignment in Lancer's class." The information poured out of Danny as he rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment, a nervous habit he needed to get rid. His parents were a silent for a second too long, Danny was sure they would see through his lies.
"Danny-boy! You scared us! We really thought you were the ghost boy when we saw the news!" his father boomed as he grabbed Danny in a bear hug. CAN��T. BREATHE.
"You need to be more careful when you submit your assignments young man. You really scared the entire town, and us. There's no reason for you to like that horrible ghost anyways. " His mother said as Danny winced. She hugged him next, possibly tighter than her husband. RIBS. BREAKING.
"Ok, sorry," Danny said as his mother released him and he straightened his shirt "but now people are following me. There's a MOB outside our front door." He crossed his arms in frustration.
"Yes, well we told them to leave, but they insist on getting an interview or something. Since then, we just let them be. Everyone knows it was an animation; Mrs. Ishiyama made it clear and concise in her interview. I'll try again." His mother suggested as she turned and grabbed a bazooka off the table.
She walked to the door, opening it while aiming her gun out at the crowd. She shut the door behind her and yelled something along the lines of 'Don't swarm my baby' and 'I'll shoot', but Danny didn't care to listen. He was more focused on going to his room and lying down.
He dragged his half dead body up the stairs and entered his room. It was messy since he never cleaned it. He threw his backpack onto his desk and plopped down onto his bed. His eyes had just begun to close in defeat to sleep when he heard a ringing.
Danny groaned and got up hazily, shuffling over to his backpack. Tucker was calling in their group chat on Skype. Danny answered groggily. "Hello?" Sam was already on the call looking at something off camera.
"Dude turn your TV on, its crazy." Tucker said rapidly. Danny moaned and reached for the remote on his desk and pressed a red button.
The TV fizzled to life and displayed the news channel. What Danny saw almost made his eyes fall out of their sockets. Vlad Masters was standing behind a podium on the camera next to some bulky item underneath a white sheet.
"-fternoon Amity Park citizens. There has been a mass amount of commotion regarding a video posted by Tucker Foley on his teacher's website. As majority of you may already know, the video displayed Daniel Fenton transforming into Danny Phantom, our iconic ghost hero." Vlad's face twisted slightly at the word hero. "Daniel claimed this video to be an animation created by Tucker Foley, but when my experts checked the video for digital tempering, no evidence was seen. Although I know this boy very well, I propose that we should not trust this teen to tell us his secret identity, hence the secret. I am holding an immediate town meeting to solve this issue as soon as possible as to reduce the commotion created by this mishap. At 6pm, please join us at Town Hall for a grand reveal." And with that, the screen switched back to the news station.
Danny turned his TV off and almost threw his remote across the room. Fuck it. He chucked the remote across the room in fury. It hit the wall and broke into pieces. Danny blasted it with an ectoblast for good measure. His hands ran through his long raven hair. I'M GOING TO DESTROY THAT FUCKING FRUITLOOP INTO PIECES. He heard someone call his name. Right, his friends.
"DANNY!" Sam yelled through her phone "LISTEN TO ME! If, and only IF, Vlad exposes you, it will all be fine. People already somewhat accepted you. You're fine Danny." Danny could see Sam trying to hide her nervous look through the call.
"Plus, what could Vlad possibly do to reveal your secret?" Tucker added and Danny groaned.
"You just JINXED it, Bad Luck Tuck. Fuck." Danny argued as he got up and started pacing. His hands roamed through his hair, his mind wracking for a solution to his possible revelation.
"Sit down Danny," Sam demanded, and he plopped onto his bed immediately, "Ok, lets meet at Town Hall in 10 minutes. The meetings in 20 minutes giving us ap-"
"DANNNYYYY!" his mother called him from downstairs and cut off Sam.
"COMING!" Danny shouted out his door and returned back to his friends "Ok let's meet there, see ya guys." Danny ended the call and ran down the stairs, shoving his phone back into his pocket. "What?" he said to his mom as he swung across the stairs into the kitchen.
"Vlad has called a –"
"A town meeting, I know. I was just about to tell you. We gotta get going or we're going to be late. I have a feeling I'm the star of the show." Danny rolled his eyes and grabbed his mom's wrist and pulled her towards the garage as his dad followed them.
"I don't know why Vlad would doubt you. You always tell the truth." Danny's mother said as she pressed the button on the wall to open the garage door. Danny grumbled something inaudible under his breath. His mother knew of Danny's distaste for her colleague, but she didn't think too much of it.
They all hopped in the car and Danny began to sweat. He was nervous, really nervous. His phone started to ring, vibrating in his pocket. He fumbled to retrieve it and finally answered. "Hey Jazz."
"Hey Danny. I saw the news, you've made national television little bro. Great job." Jazz said as she chuckled.
"Glad to hear Harvard gets to know about the town screwup. Well, Vlad called a town meeting to quote on quote fix this situation once and for all. We're heading there right now."
"Good luck. You don't know what Vlad could be hiding under his sleeve. You need to be careful before you reveal everything."
"I know, thanks Spazz."
"Hey! Should I call you-"
"NO!" Danny's parents looked at him at the sudden outburst of noise. He mumbled back to Jazz "Don't you dare mention it…" He could hear Jazz laughing on the other side.
"Well I need to get ready for my lecture class. I had some free time and I thought I could call. Good luck little bro, you'll need it."
"Thanks Jazz, talk to you later." Danny cut the call and slouched in his seat. He let out a sigh, today had been a long day, and it was about to get longer, hopefully not.
xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx
The red sedan began to slow as it neared the huge Grecian like building. A sizeable crowd had begun to form, consisting of a variety of people. Danny spotted his two best friends near their parents at the back of the crowd. Danny got out of the car, along with his parents, and walked up to his friends, shoving his hands into his pocket. People watched as the raven-haired boy walked past them, some staring furiously at being entangled in the teen's mistake.
Sam and Tucker, who were whispering to each other, finally noticed Danny walking towards them. They looked at him with guilt. Guilt because the situation was something they could have avoided. Guilt because they could have prevented this with one simple deletion of the video from the beginning.
"Hey Danny, you ready?" Sam asked. It seemed she didn't have a plan this time. Shit.
Danny shrugged "Let's just get this over with. I just have a sick feeling that somethings not going to go right." He whispered towards his friends. His stomach was churning within him, the feeling of dread overwhelming his mind and body. Usually when Danny felt something was going to go down, shit was going to go down.
Vlad Masters, mayor of Amity Park, entered from the town hall building behind a podium. He walked stiffly with confidence and Danny gulped, his tension increasing. I'm screwed, aren't I? Vlad tapped the microphone on the podium for attention.
"Good evening Amity Park citizens. I would like to start immediately as to not use up too much of your time. Would Daniel Fenton please join me on this stage?" Vlad said his name in a fake sweet voice as he turned towards Danny, eyes flashing red, only noticed by the other halfa.
Cameras from news stations as well as people turned behind them to see the youngest Fenton child. The crowed glared at the teenager as he sulked to the front of the crowd. Finally, Danny walked up the small set of stairs and joined Vlad on the stage, giving him the death glare.
Vlad mouthed 'ooh the scary eyes' and Danny rolled his eyes. "Please have a seat Daniel". Danny muttered some incoherent swear and sat down on the chair next to Vlad.
"Ladies and gentleman, in order to determine the question that is tearing our beloved city apart, I present you with the D.A.L.V. Corp lie detector!" Vlad exclaimed as he removed a white sheet covering the machine by his side. People 'oohed' and 'awed' in the background. Danny almost facepalmed, he was done for.
But what if it's a defective machine? Like, do they even make lie detectors that are 100% accurate? There was no telling what Vlad could pull out of his sleeve. Danny looked over to his best friends for any signal of help, but Sam and Tucker were both dumbstruck as he was.
Vlad swerved over to Danny as he displayed a devious smile. Danny wanted to curl up into a ball and simmer in his depression, but he just glared daggers at Vlad. 'Fruitloop' he mouthed and Vlad rolled his eyes and turned towards the audience.
"And now, for the final reveal! Daniel Fenton… do you lead a secret double life as Danny Phantom?" Vlad stretched the sentence out and took his time emphasizing each word. Danny didn't know what to answer. What if the machines broken? What if he wants me to reveal myself? Is this all a trick?
Danny's wild eyes darted left to right as thoughts raced through his mind. He looked to his best friends who only shook their heads. What do they even mean? He looked at his parents, who held equally clueless looks as him. Here goes.
"I-I- I'm not the ghost boy." Danny said loud enough for the microphone to pick up his voice as he looked at his feet. The tension in the air rose as everyone went silent. No one dared to talk while the machine operated.
CALCULATING… CALCULATING… The machine said in a robotic voice. INCORRECT, IT IS A LIE.
Gasps and shouts originated from the crowd, but the loudest shout became the only word running through Danny's mind. Freak. Freak. Freak… Danny panicked, he didn't know if he should stay or run. Vlad only smirked his typical grin and he mouthed towards Danny 'I win'.
In the heat of the moment Danny did the only thing he could do: transform and fly away. Some people screamed, other shouted, most just stood in silence in shock. His parents looked like they wanted to die. His best friends were devastated. Danny went invisible and flew away.
The last thing he heard was Vlad exclaiming to the crowd "SEE?! We cannot trust 17 year old boys to tell us the truth. Danny Fenton is… Danny Phantom!"
"Danny!" Sam shouted to keep Danny at bay, but she was too late. He was already gone. But Sam had a feeling as to where he was headed. She whispered something to Tucker and they both took off, sprinting towards the edge of town.
"Sammykins!" Sam's mother called after her, arm outstretched as if to grab her child, but Sam was too far to hear. The two sped off into the distance as the sun began to set on the horizon.
xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx
"Quick Tucker, check inside! I'll stand guard outside just in case." Sam shouted through her cupped hands and ran to the opposite side of the bridge. The trio had created an emergency shelter in case of, well emergencies. It was hidden under the bridge, making it almost impossible to enter. Almost.
Tucker slid down the hill, careful to not slip into the creek underneath the bridge. He found the rock path the trio hid underneath the rushing water and he slowly tiptoed on them, careful to keep balance. He finally reached the end where he was now underneath the bridge. He opened a hatch to a metal door and crawled in.
Inside it was dimly lit except for the small green glow in the corner. Stashed near one wall was clothing and food while a dark shadow sat stifling a sniff by the other wall.
"Danny? Dude?" Tucker called out. There was enough space for the two of them to sit crisscrossed. Danny slowly turned towards his friend, his facial features displaying pure devastation. Tears threatened to overflow from his neon green orbs. He was in ghost form. Tucker quickly crawled up to him and hugged him tightly. Tucker felt a pang of pity for his best friend; he wasn't ready to be revealed. The world wasn't ready for him to be revealed. "You okay man?"
"I- I'm fine." Danny said as he wiped his eyes. He couldn't take the tension that had risen at the town meeting. Tucker quickly called for Sam, and she came barging into the enclosed space within seconds. She repeated the same actions as Tucker, crawling up to Danny and hugging him. She ruffled his hair as well.
"One day that statement will get you killed." Tucker replied to Danny's earlier remark. Danny chuckled lightly, but it was still evident that he was in ruins.
"Did you hear what they called me… a – a freak. Am I a freak to you? Don't answer t-that. But my parents… the look of horror on their faces… I – I couldn't." Danny said as he broke down with tears again. Danny never cried.
"Dude, don't say that. They all just need to accept the facts. Remember the reality gauntlet disaster? You will be fine. We promise." Danny didn't reply to Tucker's confirmation, he stayed silent. Sam placed her hand on Danny's back and began rubbing for comfort.
"W-what do we do n-now?" Danny whispered quietly. He tilted his head down and stared at his scuffed white boots. He quickly transformed back into human form when he realized he was still a ghost. Tucker shielded his eyes with his arm from the bright flash. Danny's bangs hung downwards, covering his face. "I'm going to be swamped by people, both Fenton and Phantom. People didn't even like me before they knew I was half human. Now they're going to HATE me." Danny ran his hands through his hair, his head throbbing In pain from the incoming headache. "I have to confront my parents too…"
"Danny… wait." Sam paused, thinking for a few seconds. "How about we let the situation die down for a day or two? Then you can return to your normal life, well it wasn't like it was normal in the first place. We just need to hide for now." Sam suggested, trying to sound optimistic.
"Yea, yea that sounds reasonable. You won't have many questions to answer once the situation deescalates." Tucker said, offering his response. The two looked at Danny for his reply.
"S-sure." Danny stuttered. "B-but how?"
"Ooh! I got it!" Tucker offered and continued "Your parents made a recent invention that quote: changes a ghost's appearance unquote. But it doesn't physically hurt them, so they threw it out. We can use that to change your appearance. That way you can still go to school and live normally as a new student for a day or two without people bothering you." Tucker crossed his arms in confidence, happy he came up with such a reasonable idea.
"And… how do you know this?" Danny questioned.
"I- uh. Hehe, I keep a list of all your parents' inventions on my PDA. This just helps me to know which gadgets to stay clear off and which ones we can use to fight off ghosts." Tucker stuttered as he explained. Sam sent a questioning glance towards his way, but he brushed It off.
"Let's do it as soon as possible." Sam added as she began to crawl out.
"Never thought I'd be sneaking into my own house. Wow." Danny said as he grabbed his friends' by the waist, turning the trio intangible and flying them through the door.
They flew out under the bridge and went invisible, soaring over the clouds. The sun had almost set by now and the moon was slowly rising. They all enjoyed the flight, the breeze blowing past their bodies. Their bird's eye view allowed them to see the cars passing, the citizens each living their own life. They finally neared the giant orange sign that belonged to the one and only Fenton Works.
They flew intangibly and invisibly to the basement, where the lab was. Danny released his friends and flew upstairs, checking if his parents had come home. Not yet. When Danny came back downstairs, Tucker was holding a silver and green remote with the word Fenton on it.
"You better be glad I found this. I had to dig through the trash for this dumb thing." Tucker joked as he held the remote in the air. "You ready man?"
"Ready as I'll ever be." Danny replied and released a sigh. "Wait, what about you two? This thing doesn't work on humans, and you're going to get mobbed just for knowing me."
"I'll just give people the death glare," Sam said as she shrugged "it seems to work quite often."
"Fair enough." Danny said. Tucker finally pointed the remote towards Danny and pushed a huge red button. A green zap of electricity hit Danny and fizzled out. Danny closed his eyes and when he reopened them, he felt the same.
"Dude, nothing happened." Tucker said defeatedly. "Man, I thought my plan would really work." Just then Danny started to feel weird and he started to smoke.
A green smoke rose of his body and filled the air, blocking the vision of the trio. Finally after a minute of coughing and pushing the green fog away, a different figure stood in front of Sam and Tucker. The latter burst out laughing as the prior stood slack jawed.
Danny had long, straight black locks all the way to his hips. His chest protruded from his plaid crop top and hips jutted out of his skinny jeans, the perfect hourglass figure. His petite feet were disguised by red high-top converse and his face was slimmer. Danny looked down at his body and only one thought came to his mind: "Fuck."
In Danny's place, a female version of his human form stood, examining his body. Laughter erupted from the African American teenager.
"Dude, I mean dudette, ha ha, can't breathe." Tucker wheezed through his continuous laughter. Danny crossed his arms and muttered something incoherent.
"Tucker this is your fault." The unnaturally high pitched voice originating from the new female made Tucker laugh even harder. Even Sam started to chuckle.
"I guess we have to call you Danielle now. Wait, that names already taken." Sam remarked, and Danny just groaned, he was a girl now. Why?!
"This is only for two days, right? I don't think I can last any longer than that." Danny said as he poked his exposed stomach. "Wait, I need a mirror!" Danny ran upstairs and into the bathroom and screamed. He just realized the extent of his changes. He couldn't recognize a single thing about him, except the baby blue eyes staring back at him.
Sam and Tucker came bumbling up the stairs, laughing to the point of joyous tears. Suddenly, the garage door began to grumble. Shit, Danny thought, they’re home. He grabbed his friends and went invisible, flying out of the house and landing on the roof of the Fenton Op Center. He released his friends as he went tangible again.
"DUDE! What do you look like when you transform then." Tucker asked excitedly, bouncing in joy.
"Nope. Not now." Danny quickly said as he twisted to check out his body.
"Well, you are kinda hot this way." Sam said and then blushed when she realized what she said. "I-I mean… you look lie uh… IF YOU EVER BRING THIS UP AGAIN I WILL PERSONALLY SEE TO IT YOUR BOTH FULL GHOSTS." She quickly dropped the point and glared daggers at Tucker who was about to comment. She saw him mouth the word 'lovebirds' and she slapped him across the head. Danny was too busy looking at himself to notice.
"Well, what do I do now? I can't live at my house. My parents will not believe me if I tell them I'm their son… or daughter, whatever. Not like they believe it at the moment though…" Danny added as he sat down on the roof.
"You can come over to my house for a sleepover. I'll tell my parents you're an exchange student from… from England and they'll probably accept you. Right? We can try." Sam suggested and shrugged. She wasn't entirely sure this was an effective plan, but it was the only thing they had now.
"Kay, so I need to go home. My parents are going to yell at me for coming home at," Tucker paused as he pulled out his PDA from his backpack "8:30pm. Yikes, curfew's at 9."
"Ok, I'll drop you off home and then we'll head over to Sam's." Danny said and transformed in reflex. Wait… this isn't right. He looked down and his heroic outfit had completely changed. It consisted of thigh high heeled white boots matched with black slim fitting high waisted leggings, clearly showing off his curves. The DP logo was displayed over his volumptuous chest and white gloves covered his slender arms. His crop top had a small zip on the front, displaying his cleavage. A white collar jutted out from the top. It was like one of those sexy versions of Halloween costumes for females. His snow-white hair flew in the air as though the breeze gushed past him ferociously.
Tucker and Sam burst out laughing, while Danny's green eyes flashed with annoyance. "You know these 'girl' hands can still punch just as hard?" he remarked holding up his fists. That shut his friends up.
Danny then grabbed his friends by the arms and flew into the air, making them invisible. Tucker and Sam mocked Danny's new body throughout the entire flight while Danny stayed silent took the abuse. They reached Tuckers, dropped him off, and headed for Sam's.
xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx
When they reached Sam's, Danny transformed back into his human form and entered through the front door. The duo fled up the stairs to find Sam's parents, passing by a butler who was dusting a glass table holding precious antiques.
"MOOOOM! DAAAAAD! I'm, home!" Sam shouted as they walked up the flight of stairs. Her parents immediately exited their bedroom and ran up to their daughter, hands extended in front of them.
"Sammykins!" They exclaimed as they embraced her. Sam's expression was priceless as she mouthed 'help' through the entanglement of arms. Danny had to take all he had to prevent him from laughing out loud, but his mouth fought with him to smirk. "Who's this Samantha?"
"Hi, I'm… Daisy." Danny said as he held his hand out in a handshake. Her parents shook it while Danny continued to talk. "I'm an exchange student from England. Sam signed up to house me for a few days. Did she not tell you?" He tried to fake expressions as he spoke to Sam's parents like he had never met them before.
"Well it's nice to meet you Daisy. We weren't expecting you. You can stay in the guest bedroom." Sam's mother responded and then she turned towards her daughter.
"Samantha, may we talk to you for a second?" Sam gulped, that wasn't good news. The three quickly walked towards the end of the hall.
"Sammy, what was that at the town meeting? Do you know what happened to that wretched Fenton child?" Sam's father asked her. Both Sam and Danny flinched, Danny could hear with his ghost hearing from the distance.
"Um…" Sam hesitated to answer. What should I say? "Danny's... um Phantom. He's been secretly fighting ghosts for the past 3 years to keep our town safe. I don't know where he went though, he disappeared. But he'll be back. I know he will." Sam said, intermixing truths with lie. Just then, Danny's phone started to ring in his pocket and he looked at the caller ID. Jazz.
"I'm going to take this quickly." Danny said as he walked off towards the edge of the stairs. He answered once he was out of human earshot. "Hey Jazz."
"Who's that? And what are you doing with Danny's phone?" Jazz questioned. She mustn't recognize my female voice.
"Jazz its me, Danny. I-I'm a girl." What the fuck Fenton. Explain. "I mean I zapped myself with one of Mom and Dad's inventions, which by the way was TUCK's idea, and it transformed me into a female." Before Danny could finish, Jazz was already on the other line laughing her ass off.
"Haha, this is way too funny. I wish I could be there. But mom and dad are worried, Danny. They don't know where you are." She said in a concerned voice.
"I-I'm in hiding. I don't want to face anyone right now. I can't deal with the stress. I'm not r-ready." He stuttered. "I'm at Sam's pretending to be an exchange student for a couple of days, or until this transformation wears off."
"Ok, but be careful little bro. You're little scene made national news again. Maybe even international." Danny facepalmed.
"Ok, ok. I'll be going to school tomorrow as a new student. Hopefully, no one will recognize me. It seems like it's working though, we were able to fool Sam's parents."
"LOL. Well I gotta get to bed. I just wanted to check up on you. Stay safe and go back home soon, kay? Also, send me a selfie, it's not every day your little brother becomes your little sister!"
"Yes Spazz."
"Ok L-"
"I said don't call me that!" Danny shouted as he hung up. He shoved his phone into his pocket as Sam and her parents began to approach him.
"Sammy, will you show Daisy where she will be staying? We will finish our conversation later." Sam's mother asked in a sweet tone. Sam nodded in reply and grabbed Danny's hand as they walked to her room.
"Thanks Mrs. and Mr. Manson!" Danny quickly thanked as Sam dragged Danny down the hall. The soft voice that escaped his mouth was still unusual to him. They entered Sam's room and she slammed the door, swerving towards Danny and placing her hands on her hips.
"Who called you?" she asked or more so demanded.
"Jazz. I told her what happened and she… laughed." Danny said as he looked away at the last word.
"Ok. Well I bet you already heard me and my parent's conversation so there's no point in me explaining that."
"Yea."
"Also, you can sleep in my room. Just grab your usual sleeping bag."
"Won't your parents think it's weird?"
"I'm goth, they're not supposed to understand my weird quirks." Danny just rolled his eyes and walked over to Sam's closet. He opened the door and searched for his signature constellation sleeping bag, but it wasn't there.
"Uh, Sam… its not here. Tucker's is also gone." Danny asked as he looked over to his friend. She facepalmed and muttered something incoherent.
"Right, well I told the butler to wash them cause it's they started to get dirty. You know me and being clean." Danny just nodded in return. "Well, I guess we can share my bed then. It's big enough for the both of us. Plus I don't trust you in your own room."
"HEY!" Danny called "I have standards."
"Standards meaning you trash a room the second you enter it? Then yeah, that's exactly what you got." Danny lightly punched Sam in the arm as she chuckled and they both sat on the bed together. They began to talk about possible solutions to their disaster of a situation, slowly nodding off. By 11pm, the two were sleeping snuggly in the gothic bed, the sounds of their snoring filling up the silence of the dark night.
xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx
"DANNY! That's the fifth time, wake up!" Sam shouted over the mess of the room. She had thrown her clothes everywhere to find the perfect outfit for Danny while he sat sleeping in her bed. She got up and pushed him off and he tumbled to the floor with a large "bang". "GET YOUR LAZY ASS UP!" Danny let out a small squeak in reply.
"Ouch. Good morning to you too," he said rubbing his back "I'm so tired." He got up off the floor and stretched, yawning. He walked over to the mirror and almost did a double take. Right, I'm a girl.
"Here put this on." Sam said as she shoved some clothes into Danny's arms. Danny looked at the clothes and then looked back at Sam dumbfounded.
"You want me to…" he didn't finish the sentence, but Sam understood. He's too embarrassed to look at his own body. She sighed and told him to close his eyes. She began to remove the jeans and crop top Danny had wore last night and thankfully he had some underneath clothing. She took the dress from his hands and wiggled it over his head. "Can I open my eyes now?"
"Yes." Danny did as he was told, and he immediately went over to the mirror. He was wearing a sleeveless red and black dress, which felt kind of odd due to the openness of his legs. It cinched at his waist and gave him a nice hourglass figure. He looked back at his face and noticed the rats nest that sat upon his head. He went over to Sam's dresser and grabbed her comb, and then began to brush his hair in light strokes.
Danny used to play around with Jazz's hair so he had practice tying it. Once his hair was silky smooth, he began to braid it into one long strand. When he was done he turned to Sam and asked "How do I look?"
Sam was impressed. He did look quite good. She immediately blushed and said "Not bad…"
It was 7 am on Tuesday morning and they had another 30 minutes or so before they needed to meet with Tucker at his house. The two went into Sam's bathroom, brushed their teeth, washed their faces, and Sam began to apply makeup. Danny just sat and watched her do her thing while also admiring himself in the mirror. She tried to put some, eyeliner was it?, on Danny but he dodged each attempt.
Danny noticed the slight muscles on his arms and began to poke them. Tough, he thought.
"What are you doing?" Sam asked looking at him questioningly through the bathroom mirror.
"Look, I have muscles, like my old self." He said pointing to his arm. Sam sighed and continued applying her gothic look. When she finished, the two skidded down the stairs for breakfast. The private chef had made some avocado toast and they quickly shoved it down their throats in silence. After, they headed out the door. Sam had given Danny one of her unused black backpacks for the time being.
They met Tucker at his house and walked to school as they continued their conversation from yesterday. When they finally reached the school, people stared at the trio. Some wondered who the new girl while others sought for the missing piece to the trio, aka Fenton. Danny didn't want to deal with the glares so he walked behind his best friends, using them as shields. When they got inside, they immediately turned towards the principal's office to introduce Danny. He entered first and greeted the principal, followed by Sam with Tucker waiting outside.
"Hello! I'm Daisy." Danny said as he waved at Mrs. Ishiyama. "I-um, I'm an exchange student from England staying here with Sam Manson. I just wanted to introduce myself so you knew I wasn't just some random person, he-he." Danny made up as he rubbed his neck, an old habit of his.
"Ah, yes. Welcome Daisy. I hope you find Casper High quite suiting. I would advise you to follow Ms. Manson to her classes as she can guide you," she said as she glanced at Sam who was standing behind Danny. "Do you know how long your stay here will be?"
"About a day or two, then I'm moving on to another state." He said and tried to smile. It's so hard trying to act as if you know no one, when you really know everyone.
"Ok, Daisy. Have a great day!" she said and Danny replied in fake enthusiasm. He then followed Sam and joined Tucker outside. The trio walked to their respective lockers and grabbed their supplies for their classes. As Danny took out his English notebook, he could hear conversations involving 'Fenton' and 'Phantom'. He decided to listen in on a few.
So, the video was real? How did he keep it a secret for so long?
Gosh who knew Fentonia could be Phantom?
I don't believe it. The ghost boy cannot be that wimpy dork. He's WAY too clumsy.
I hope Fenton comes to school today, I have so many questions. Where is he by the way?
I'm right here, Danny thought. He was glad he wasn't noticeable at the moment. He really didn't want to deal with this mess. He walked back to Tucker's locker, his dress swaying from side to side. Dresses are kind of comfortable. Damn, I never thought I would say that. The day had been ok so far and nothing had gone wrong as of yet.
"Who's the hot girl Foley?" Dash sneered as he walked up to the trio. Ew, he really wanted to punch Dash for calling him hot, but he couldn't risk it right now.
"Hi, I'm Daisy." Danny said as he pretended to be nice, he didn't want to create tensions, just lay low. "I'm an exchange student from England." Every student in the hallway turned to watch the king of Casper High flirt with the cute exchange student.
"Well, what do you say we exchange numbers?" Dash asked in a flirtatious tone. Danny almost threw up. Tucker was laughing so hard at his side while Sam just watched, crossing her arms and smirking in delight.
"I-um, I think I'm good…" Danny stammered in embarrassment as his cheeks swirled in light pink. Dash looked disgusted at the fact of being rejected, but he brushed it off.
"That's alright, you don't know me that well. I'm Dash, captain of the football team. Once you hang out with me, you'll be swooning in no time." he said as he held up his arms to showcase his muscles for Danny. Danny's cheeks transformed into a darker shade of pink.
"S-sure." Was all he could stammer out. Tucker and Sam began to laugh even harder and Dash looked at them with a furious aggression.
"What are ya laughing at Foley and Manson? Say... where's Fenton? I don't believe the little stunt he pulled off yesterday." Tucker just shrugged and clutched his stomach while wiping a fake tear from his eyes.
"We don't know where he is." Sam replied straight faced.
"Lies." Dash said. "He's probably hiding in embarrassment after acting as Phantom. I bet that lie detector malfunctioned too." He remarked quickly then grabbed Danny by the arm.
"Come with me Daisy, I'll show you around the school." He glanced at the other two and frowned "these losers aren't worth your time." He rapidly sauntered off, clutching Danny's arm. Danny squeaked with the sudden pull. He turned back to his friends and mouthed for 'help', but they were too busy laughing their asses off, due to the fact that their friends bully was hitting on him.
The bell rang immediately, and Dash groaned. "Damn it, I forgot about class. I'll show you around after Lancer's class kay?" Dash looked over to Danny in admiration. Danny was a couple of inches shorter than Dash, so he didn't have to look up too much. Did I shrink? I used to be an inch shorter than Dash.
"Um… sure. I have Mr. Lancer first period too." Danny almost smacked his head at his statement. He could have easily gotten away if he had said any other class.
"Coolio." Dash replied and they both walked off to Lancer's classroom. Dash entered first and sat down in his desk while Danny went up to Lancer and introduced himself. Lancer welcomed him and introduced Danny to the class.
"Good morning students, we have a new student here today. This is Daisy, she's an exchange student from England and will be with us for a few days." Danny waved at his classmates and then walked to the back to sit in his usual spot, between Sam and Tucker. The students gazed at Danny as he sat in his seat, then realized what he'd done. Goddamnit, it's a habit. The students turned back towards Lancer and Danny hoped no one would make the connection.
Lancer began to take attendance and only one student seemed to be absent: Daniel Fenton. The class began to murmur about the questioning reveal yesterday and Lancer silenced them immediately. Although he wanted to discuss the events of yesterday, he had a class to teach.
Class went on as usual, Lancer lectured and then gave the students time to work. When Lancer called out 'worktime' for their essays due next week, all the students turned towards Danny and he gulped. He did not want to be the center of attention again. Paulina was the first to speak.
"So, you're from England, right? What's it like there?" she asked questioningly. Danny honestly had no clue as of what to say, he was frozen solid.
"Its- uh, it rains a lot. Um…" he stuttered and tried to make up something "but it's not as fun as visiting America." He looked around at his fellow classmates. They were all staring at him in astonishment. Mikey spoke up next.
"How come you don't have an accent?" Dang, he was good.
"That's a stereotype. Not everyone back home has a British accent." Danny felt accomplished after making up the quick statements. His classmates continued to press him for answers.
"What are your hobbies?"
"I like to draw and play video games."
"What are you interested in?"
"I love the stars and astronomy. I want to be an astronaut in the future. NASA is my goal."
"Who are you staying with?"
"Sam."
"How is your skin so flawless?"
Danny scrunched his nose at that. He had no clue how to answer. "Facial scrubs?" he shrugged, mental note: learn more about ‘girl stuff’ if you're ever in this situation.
The questions continued for a couple of minutes and Danny answered with a constant pace. The bell rang and students filed out of the room as Lancer as reminded them of their homework assignment. Danny quickly escaped with Sam and Tucker at his side before Dash could steal him away. They walked towards the next class: history. The questions asked began to reduce as word spread throughout the school.
At lunch, the A-listers swarmed him and asked him to join their table. After repeated pleading, Danny sat with them and instantly regretted his decision. Dash played footsie under the table the entire time while Paulina talked to him about girl things. He wanted to die, well half die. If they knew he really was, they would immediately scream and run away. Danny could see his friends from the corner of his eye laughing at his misfortune. Oh, they're so in for it.
After lunch, which he ran away from when the bell rang, he went to his algebra class. He and Sam had all the same classes while Tucker took a higher level math class. The class went by smoothly with minor interruptions.
Sam and Danny left class only to go to next one which he had been dreading since morning: gym class. They headed towards the locker rooms, where Danny walked behind Sam, somewhat crouched to hide. He felt so wrong walking in on females changing. He wanted to close his eyes, but he didn't want to seem out of the ordinary.
"Sam I-," he whispered, "how do I change?" they walked to the corner of the room, blocked from the view of other girls. Sam opened her locker and took out her gym clothes and her emergency gym clothes. She looked around the area for peering eyes and sighed.
"Danny it doesn't matter. You're bound to see a girl's body anyway. You're fucking 17 now." She crossed her arms in annoyance. She really didn't want to be the one to dress Danny again. Danny growled and slowly peeled off his clothes as Sam did the same next to him. He turned around so to give Sam some privacy. He put on Sam's gym clothes in haste. Underneath he wore a black lace bra and matching thong. So that’s what’s been giving me this horrible wedgie.
"Nice ass Daisy." Paulina said out of nowhere, passing by the two changing. Danny blushed and remained silent, fumbling to put the t-shirt and shorts on.. Sam snickered beside him and he jabbed his arm into her side when he finished changing.
The two cleaned up and walked out into the gym. Tucker was already standing near the bleachers on his PDA. The two sat beside him and Tucker grinned.
"How was the girl's locker room Danny?" Danny couldn't help but smile, his friend was always cracking jokes.
"Not too bad." He replied but quickly blushed.
"Paulina said he's got a nice ass." Sam said as she grinned her gothic smile towards Tucker. The techno geek began to chuckle as he put his PDA into his pocket. Just then, a shrill whistle blew.
Ms. Tetslaff ordered all the students over to the bleachers. She took attendance and noticed the new student over in the corner. "And who might you be?" pointing to Danny.
"I'm Daisy, an exchange student. I'll be here for a few days." Danny said, accustomed to greeting himself as a female. Ms. Tetslaff just nodded and began to shout instructions. She made them run a mile as warm up outside. "Now I want all of you to stay behind the red line and when I say go, you're going to run to the post over there and back. You're grade depends on how fast you make it back here, got it?" The students nodded in unison and jogged over to the starting line. "GO!"
Danny ran nonchalantly, he wasn't in a hurry or anything and it wasn't like he was being graded. He just jogged with the wind flowing through his hair. He liked the airy breeze against his bare skin, the soothing coolness against his face. He closed his eyes and imagined himself flying through the night sky, starts twinkling overhead. He rounded the pole and headed back. He didn't see anyone in front of him, maybe I'm just being really slow, ha. When he reached Ms. Tetslaff, her mouth was open in shock.
"Daisy, right?" she asked as Danny nodded through his pants. "That was…" she paused and looked at her stopwatch "3 1/2 minutes…"
"Wait, WHAT?!" Danny shouted as Dash came running in 3 minutes later. Dash was breathing hard, but he looked at Danny in surprise. Sam came running in right behind Dash and grabbed Danny by the arm. He yelped as her hot breath whispered in his ear.
"Why did you run so fast?!" she furiously whispered. Danny was astonished; he had been running really slowly in his mind. I blame the wind, it increases your adrenaline.
"Daisy, are you ok?" Ms. Tetslaff asked. Danny just sighed and nodded.
"I run back in England. I'm on the track team." He said, making up even more excuses. Students began trickling in, looking at Danny with stunned expressions. Danny just cowered behind Sam and Tucker for the rest of class, laying back on the ghost enhanced agility. When class was over, he dashed into the locker room, changed, and hid at Sam's locker. Eventually his friends met up with him and were ready to go home. Just then, things got worse.
"Hey Daisy," Dash cooed. "Mind if I talk to you for a moment?" Danny wholeheartedly wanted to say no, but he had to keep up his appearance, he still hesitated. Sam just smiled and nodded for him to go along.
"Umm…" Danny replied, but before he could say anything Dash grabbed his hand.
"I'll take that as a yes." He said and walked Danny to the other end of the hallway. "So, what do you think of Casper High?" he asked as he still held Danny's hand. His palm was sweaty while Danny's was ice cold.
"It's cool," Danny said. He tried to keep his replies short and simple.
"You know, you're a really athletic girl and, I uh- have to ask. What do you think… of me?" Dash said. Danny blushed, his cheeks turning rose pink. Dash was hardcore flirting with his bully victim.
"Um… you're cool…" Danny wanted to wash his mouth with soap. I can't believe I just said that. He wanted to erase the memory from his mind but the most horrifying experience of his life was about to begin. Dash leaned towards him, closing his eyes and puckering his lips while and Danny literally just stood there frozen in fear. Dash was about to place his lips on Danny for only a second until Danny moved. His mind was telling him to dodge the romance, so he quickly punched Dash in the face with little exertion. Dash clutched his face in agony and backed off. Danny speedily ran out of sight, hiding behind a corridor where a single student couldn't be found.
Danny's heart was pounding in his chest at the terrifying encounter. I was almost kissed by Dash. BY DASH. Tucker was going to have a good laugh at this one. He could hear Dash shouting in the distance as Danny crouched down in fear. So much for appearances, he thought.
Eventually, Sam and Tucker found Danny sitting on the floor rocking back forth, with his knees up to his chin and wide eyed. He was scarred for life. The way Dash leaned forward, eyes closed, lips puckered…
Tucker was having a great time at Danny's expense. "Oh man… that… that was good! I got… got it on my PDA!" he said through his laughter. His stomach and cheeks started to ache with this day's humor. Sam jabbed him in his side, hinting at him to stop.
"Danny let's go. You really took a number out of Dash though, his nose was bleeding." Sam said through her smile; she also found this situation quite comical. She stuck out her hand and Danny grabbed it as she pulled him up. They began to walk out of the school as leftover students stared at them. Luckily, Dash had left for afterschool football practice so Danny didn't have to see him. They walked back to Sam's home, conversing about ghosts and school.
Danny realized as they neared Sam's house that no ghosts had appeared today. He didn't want to jinx it so he kept quiet. At Sam's house, they grabbed a couple of snacks and headed downstairs to watch a movie. Halfway through the movie the doorbell rang.
A minute later, Sam's grandma called for the trio to come upstairs. Sam grabbed the remote, paused the movie, and the three ran up the stairs to the main door. When they saw who was at the door, they almost dashed back downstairs. Danny's heart started to race, pounding in his chest. He hoped he wouldn't notice him.
Vlad Masters, mayor of Amity Park, stood at the doorway, his suit crispy, clean, and black. His hands were behind his back and his face was neutral. "Ms. Manson, may I speak with you for a moment, you too Mr. Foley." he paused and his eyes darted towards Danny, confusion crossing his face. "And who might you be?"
"I'm Daisy. An exchange student…" Danny said rapidly in defense. Danny held out his hand "Nice to meet you, uh…"
"Mayor Masters. Welcome to Amity Park." Vlad said in a sweet tone. So he doesn't recognize me. YES! Danny smiled internally. "I just need a moment with you two." Vlad returned back to his neutrality as he pointed to Danny's friends. They followed him onto Sam's porch. Danny stayed behind; ready to return back downstairs when someone touched his arm.
Sam's grandma sat in her motorized wheelchair and told him to wait. "Danny how are you holding up?" she said with a grin on her face.
"Wait – h-how? What?" Danny was shocked and confused. How did she figure it out?
"You look the same. It isn't hard to tell, at least if you pay attention." She said as she winked.
"I- uh, I'm good." He replied to her earlier question. H didn't know what to think. He knew Sam's grandma was smart, but this convinced him that she had some sort of psychic powers.
"Stay safe kiddo." Danny nodded and smiled in reply. Sam's grandma patted his back and he went back downstairs. His mind raced through thoughts on where he went wrong, was I giving away too much?
AT THE SAME TIME
"What do you want Vlad?" Sam ordered as she crossed her arms and glared ferociously.
"You know what I want. Where's Daniel?"
"After the stunt you pulled yesterday, he's long gone. We couldn't find him" Tucker replied in anger.
"Don't play dumb with me child. You two would be the only ones to know where he could possibly be. He's hiding, isn't he?"
"You know, Danny could pull a Vlad and reveal your secret?" Sam said in a sly smile as she pointed her finger slowly at the older halfa.
"I don't need this!" Vlad shouted and stomped his foot. "Tell me where he is NOW." He demanded as his eyes flashed a glimpse of red.
"Why do you need him anyway? He's out of town." Tucker said and then clamped his hand on his mouth, as if he revealed a secret.
"Which town!?" Vlad shouted as he towered over Tucker. Tucker just shrugged with a neutral expression. Vlad let out an irritated growl and stomped back to his limo. He hopped in the back seat and left speedily.
Sam and Tucker looked at each other, high-fived at their acting skills, and then skipped back inside. They met Danny in the movie theater-like basement. Danny immediately started to explain his encounter with Sam's grandmother followed by Sam and Tucker's explanation of Vlad's annoyance.
They erupted in laughter after both explanations and finished the movie. The day ended same as yesterday: Tucker left for his home and Danny slept over at Sam's. As they did their homework, they began to fall asleep and ultimately ended up passed out on Sam's bed.
xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx
The morning routine began same as yesterdays as well. Sam woke Danny up, they got ready, ate breakfast, met with Tucker, and headed for school. Today, Danny wore a blue off the shoulder crop top, showing off his slight toned abs, paired with black skinny ripped jeans with his signature red high top converse. He let his hair out today, its silky-smooth strands meeting his hips and swaying back and forth as he moved. Sam wore a purple t-shirt paired with black leggings and thick combat boots. Tucker wore his usual yellow turtle neck, green cargo pants, red beret, and brown timberland boots.
The trio conversed about other students and recent gossip surrounding the school. The biggest event was Danny's revelation, but they ignored that fact. When they reached the school, students stared again. Danny cupped his hand over his face as if he was hiding behind it. He walked behind his friends and he could feel all the eyes burning holes into his body. He didn't stop at his locker, in fear of being cornered by Dash again. He followed Sam and she grabbed her textbooks from her locker. Just then, a huge, muscular figure placed his hand on Danny's shoulder. Danny jumped a little in response and turned around.
Dash stood there, with a white bandage covering his nose. "Daisy…" he started. Danny waited for a punch to the face, half closing one eye and keeping the other open, but "- you're strong. You're like THE PERFECT girl…" Danny puked in his mouth and swallowed it back down. WHAT. THE. FUCK. Can't this man get a hint?
"Um…" Danny stood there. He really, really, REALLY, didn't want to reply. Sam was laughing her hardest next to him. He jabbed his elbow into her side, but she continued as if the shove didn't affect her. Before Danny could move Dash grabbed him by the waist… and… and…
KISSED HIM. THE DUMBASS THAT WAS DASH FUCKING KISSED HIM. Danny's eyes widened, and he wanted to race the hell out of here, but he was frozen in Dash's tight grip. Dash pushed harder and asked entrance into Danny's mouth through his tongue. Danny puckered his lips tight and stomped on Dash's foot. Dash yelped backwards in pain and Danny dashed out and into Lancer's classroom. He could hear Dash's cry for wait and something about it being 'the best kiss ever'.
He was hyperventilating as he sat down in his seat. He shuffled through his backpack and found a water bottle and downed the whole thing. Lancer looked over questioningly and Danny smiled innocently as Lancer returned to his computer unfazed.
Tucker and Sam came running into the classroom, doubling over in laughter. Yeah, laugh your asses off at my expense. Danny banged his head on his desk and left it there until the bell rang.
Dash entered the room after the bell rang and sent Danny a flirtatious wave. Danny wanted to stab himself and become full ghost. Sam and Tucker had huge grins and sent Danny kisses as if mimicking Dash.
"Good morning class, happy Tuesday. Please say here as I say your name for attendance." Lancer said. Again, everyone's name had a check mark beside it except for Daniel Fenton on his attendance sheet. Lancer hoped his student was okay. "Ok class," he said as he put down his clipboard "today we are going to –" a wisp of blue escaped Danny's mouth. No. No. No. No. Danny's hand shot up in the air. Lancer sighed, "yes Daisy?"
"Can I go to the restroom please?" Danny asked sweetly, he wanted to escape this hell hole anyways.
"Yes, but go quickly." Lancer continued his announcements as Danny left the classroom. Closing the door, he looked left and right and didn't see any ghost. He walked to the girl's bathroom and entered a stall. Transforming invisibly, he flew through the ceiling and onto the school roof. A robotic ghost stood holding a huge blaster, green flaming hair flying in the wind.
Skulker immediately scrunched his eyebrows in confusion, then widened his eyes in realization. The sexy phantom that stood in front of him was none other than Danny, just female version. He started to snicker at his enemy's predicament. Danny landed on the roof and almost fell over, he wasn't used to wearing heels. This only made Skulker laugh harder at the welp trying to regain his balance on the 4 inch heels connected to his thigh high boots.
"Welp, what happened to you? It is you right? I still want to skin your pelt and place it over my fireplace." Skulker said with his grin. He aimed his blaster and fired.
Danny dodged the ectoblast, tumbling over his heels. Flying it is, he thought as he began to levitate. "Skulker, even if I'm a girl, I can still beat your ass. Don't be sexist." Danny said as he fired back three fire blasts in succession.
The first two were dodged by the flaming ghost, but the last knocked the blaster from his arms. Skulker drew up his arm and it opened to reveal 3 silver and blue missiles. He fired and remarked "Is it true that Plasmius revealed your secret to the mortals?"
Danny rolled his eyes and confirmed the ghosts suspicion. "I don't have time for this, I need to get back to class." Danny crossed his arms producing a shield, blocking the missile. He flew up to Skulker and kicked the ghosts arms off. He then proceeded to unscrew Skulker's head and grab the green little blob from within. He took the thermos out of his belt and dropped the blob into the thermos.
Danny sighed as capped the thermos and floated back down into the bathroom, transforming into his human self and returning to class. He sat down with a huff, tired from fighting the level four ghost. Sam passed a note onto his desk: 'check your arm'. Oh shit. He didn't notice the slender cut that ran down his arm. One of the missiles must have nicked him when he had turned around. He placed his hand on top of the scar to block it from view. He checked his palm and some blood was smeared across it. Great.
Class resumed as usual, Lancer went through a PowerPoint and then gave students work time. The students conversed in their respective social groups and Danny was glad for the little attention.
Suddenly, Danny felt his muscles ache. He couldn't move any of his limbs He was about to tell Sam, but suddenly a green smoke arose from his body. Students turned around to see the situation. The smoke filled the room and everyone began coughing. Lancer opened the door and a window and students swatted the air as they coughed. The smoke began to clear and everyone turned their head towards the source of the green air.
Short, jagged black hair replaced the silky black locks, thin slender frame was replaced by light muscles, pointed face replaced by angular cheek bones, and crop top and skinny jeans replaced by a blue t-shirt ad jeans.
Danny Fenton sat in the spot Daisy was sitting in, wide eyed and staring at his classmates. Students mouths were wide open while Sam and Tucker facepalmed in sync.
"Fuck." Danny muttered, clutching his arm tighter.
The loudest exclamation came from a specific A-lister with his head in his hands. "I KISSED FENTURD?!" Dash shouted as he stood up.
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mldrgrl · 7 years ago
Text
When No One is Looking
by: mldrgrl Rating: R for some swears and some gruesome imagery. Summary: There’s no real plot here.  Just a mood piece set during season 7 with a lot of moods and moodiness.
Dry heat; dry, dusty, desert heat, might just possible be the worst, Scully thinks.  Dry, dusty, desert heat in the middle of August in the middle of fucking nowhere, Arizona, in particular.  It may be as close to Hell as one could possibly get without dying.
She stands at the edge of the parking lot of the motel she and Mulder have been installed in for the last four days and raises a hand up to shield her eyes as she takes in the landscape.  It seems as though there is nothing for miles.  Nothing but sagebrush and cacti and dirt and rocks and heat vapors.  In the distance, there are brown, featureless hills, so far away they look like nothing but blurry slashes across the horizon.
For the most part, the sky is still bright and blue, but up ahead where the hills are, a mass of ominous grey clouds hangs suspended, like it was placed there by accident.  She’s sure it’s a rather large and impressive storm cloud, but from where she’s standing, she can see it end to end.  It must be headed their way, because she can suddenly smell the earthy scent of rain.
She’s surprised that she’s been able to contemplate the view for the better part of ten minutes without interruption.  If there’s anything that can be more smothering than desert heat, it’s her partner, but Mulder simply gave her a nod when she left him at the car and said she wanted to take a walk, and let her go.  Perhaps if she takes a glance over her shoulder, she’ll find him leaning against their rented maroon Taurus spitting sunflower seed husks on the ground and watching her.  She does take a glance, but he’s not there, but that just means that if he hasn’t come looking for her by now, he’s probably kept an eye on her from the motel window, and the thought of that makes the air feel every drier and hotter.  
Annoyed, she unbuttons her short-sleeved, baby blue blouse to expose the white tank top underneath.  It feels wholly unprofessional, but if Mulder can get away with leaving his suit jackets hanging in the motel closet, rolling up his shirtsleeves, and unknotting his tie for the past four days, she can unbutton her blouse.  Besides, Agent Scully is on a break.  
A swift wind kicks up from nowhere.  It rattles the sagebrush and speckles her chest and face with dirt.  She spits the grit out of her mouth and blinks it free from her eyes.  It’s a rude reminder that the desert is as harsh and unforgiving as it is secretive.  She hates it and she hates this case.
Done with the time alone she thought she wanted, all she wants now is a shower.  Her face pinches up with disdain when she turns back to the motel.  It was dark when they’d first arrived and her first impression was of a flickering neon pink M and a burned out T so that the sign on the road flashed MO EL or O EL depending on when she blinked.  It’s nothing to look at now, just a flat strip of rooms with a crumbling and dirt-caked adobe facade, but it’s got that classic Americana postcard look that induces nostalgia for simpler times.  The parking lot is mostly empty save for the Taurus and a dusty Buick that might be green or might be blue, it’s hard to tell, but she stops for just a moment and tries to imagine it full of colorful Chevy Bel Airs and Studebakers.
The brief daydream offers little respite from the past four days and she brings herself back to reality with the reminder that simpler times never really existed in the first place and that it’s all just perspective.  They have been working on a series of murders that press refers to as The Desert Flowers, but still there are murders more brutal and more notorious of the past; The Black Dahlia, The Wineville Chicken Coop Murders, The Boy in the Box, The Clutter Family, Julius Fucking Cesar.  There is no such thing as a simple time.
Thankfully, despite the lackluster exterior of the motel, the room is clean and reasonably comfortable.  More importantly, the air conditioner works.  It’s already cranked up when she opens her door, which tells her Mulder has been there.  The connecting doors to their rooms stand open and she can hear his TV, what sounds like a baseball game, over the hum and rattle of the air conditioner.  She turns it down a few notches before she gathers her things and heads for the shower.
She lets her dusty clothes fall into a puddle on the bathroom floor as she scrutinizes her face in the harsh fluorescent light.  Her cheeks and nose are red with sunburn and it looks as though her forehead may have suffered today as well.  She’ll need to be more diligent with the sunscreen tomorrow.
Another thing she can be thankful for is that the water pressure in the shower is decent.  They’ve been in worse places, where the water spits out in weak intervals or just dribbles lazily out of the showerhead, but the spray is functional here and runs clear.  She adjusts the taps to a comfortably tepid temperature, somewhere bordering both cool and warm, and steps in.  It’s still a contrast to her overheated skin and she breaks out in a shock of gooseflesh that settles almost immediately.  She feels layered in grime and sweat and like she’ll never be able to scrub hard enough to make it go away, but she tries anyway, working the complimentary bar of soap down to a sliver as she lathers her arms and legs and neck and chest and belly and hips and thighs.
There’s a soft tap on the bathroom door and then Mulder calls her name.  Not now, she thinks.  I can not possibly do another autopsy or walk a crime scene or interview a witness.  I just can’t.
“What?” she calls.
“Wanna conserve water?” he asks, sliding the shower curtain back a little and stepping inside before she can accept or reject.
She’s got her face up to the spray so her back is to him and her eyes are closed.  “You shouldn’t be in here,” she says.
“Well, you know me, I’ve never met a rule I couldn’t break.”
She acknowledges the truth of it with a hum.  His hands find her shoulders and squeeze lightly and she hums again, dropping her head forward a little.  His thumbs sweep down along the sloping wings of her shoulder blades and then back up again, moving over each other up her spinal column to the base of her neck.  He presses down behind her ears and squeezes her shoulders again a little harder.
“That’s nice,” she murmurs.
“Yeah?”
“But, you don’t have to.”
He does anyway, massaging her neck and shoulders lightly as she rolls her head under the water.  His hands are warm, and they’re always warm, but in contrast with the cool water, they feel even warmer than usual.  It’s both pleasurable and relaxing.  She picks her head up and tilts it back, lifting her hands up to push her hair back from her face.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Mmhm.”
“It’s been a rough couple of days.”
She inadvertently shrugs Mulder’s hands off her shoulders to half-heartedly disagree.  He drops them to her waist and squeezes her hips.  She steps back against him and he folds one arm up across her chest to her shoulder and the other down across her belly to her hip.  He leans down and rests his chin against her temple.
She shuts her eyes and it’s just the sound of the shower for awhile and the feeling of his chest expanding and contracting against her back as he breathes.  Maybe time can be simple if it’s reduced to moments of simplicity like this.  They are not FBI agents right now, just two people in a shower, standing quietly under a spray and letting it cool them down after a hot day.  While outside, someone, or something, as Mulder believes, bludgeons young women and leaves their bodies face down in a bed of devil cholla.  Because cracking the back of their skulls was not enough, the killer also needed to make sure the victim came away with a face full of cactus needles to boot.
Scully squirms and Mulder loosens his arms so she can turn.  She briefly raises her eyes to his and then butts his chest with her forehead.  He keeps one hand low on her back and moves the other to cup the back of her head.  Water sluices down her cheeks, past her mouth, and bubbles in the hairsbreadth of space between her lips and his sternum as she sighs.
“Don’t you ever wish we could just stop this before it starts,” she says.
“All the time,” he answers.
She folds her arms up and in between her chest and his, hands curled into fists.  She’d like to punch something in frustration, maybe the wall or maybe Mulder.  As though he senses it, he takes a step back and takes her wrists, pulling both hands up to his mouth.  He kisses her knuckles and unfurls her fists by sliding his thumbs inside her palms and running them across the bottom of each of her fingers.  She flinches a little when he passes over a spot where a cactus needle pierced her hand while she was removing them during an autopsy.  It still stings a little.
“I need to wash my hair,” she says.
“Want me to do it?”
“You want to wash my hair?”  She tips her head back to look up at him.  His mouth is still resting against her knuckles.
“I want to if you want me to.”
“Alright.”
“Really?”
“Shampoo is behind you.”
He looks almost giddy when he drops her hands and turns to find the travel bottle of shampoo.  After he flips open the cap, he brings it to his nose to take a whiff and then pours a generous amount into his palm.  It’s more than necessary, but she turns around and tips her head back for him and lets him lather her hair.  It feels nice to have his fingers massage her scalp, even nicer than when she gets her hair cut at the salon because it’s Mulder and not a stranger hovering above her over a sink.  If this became a regular occurance maybe she wouldn’t feel compelled to have her hair cut so often.
“You’re good at this,” she says.
“Call me Mulder Sassoon.  If you don’t look good, I don’t look good.  Rinse.”
Scully turns with her eyes closed and he washes the soap out of her hair.  She wipes the water from her face when he’s finished and does her own conditioning while Mulder grabs another complimentary soap from the sink to wash up.  He tells her he’ll be out in a few minutes when she finishes and steps out of the shower.
She wraps a towel around herself and uses another to rub her head on her way out of the bathroom.  The puddle of clothes on the floor is left behind as well as the fresh pajamas she’d brought to change into.  The room is too cold so she turns the air conditioner down another notch.  She pulls the comforter down and slips under the sheets clad in her terrycloth wrap and turban.
“It looked like it was going to rain,” she says to Mulder when he comes out of the bathroom a few minutes later.  His hair is wet and there’s a towel wrapped low around his hips.
“Oh?”
“There were storm clouds out by the hills and I could smell rain in the air.”
“Is that what you were doing outside?  Weather forecasting?”
“I needed a break.”
Mulder climbs into bed behind her and puts his arm around her.  He props himself up on his elbow and leans over to kiss her shoulder.  She hasn’t had to tell him no yet in this new version of their relationship and she doesn’t want to have to, but she isn’t in the mood for this.  His hand works inside the folds of her towel and she holds her breath, but he simply lays down and pulls her close.  Her heart actually stutters just a bit and she thinks that maybe she could be in the mood after all if he’s going to be so endearing.
“Mulder,” she says, as she turns over to look at him.  His eyes are closed.  She stretches up and sniffs his head.  “You used my shampoo.”
“Had to.  Mine was too far away.”
“Have you slept at all these past four days?”
He purses his lips like he’s going to lie to her, but he gives a little shake of his head.  She puts a hand on his cheek and traces the outline of the left side of his mouth with her thumb.  He opens his eyes and shifts a little, bringing his leg over hers and pulling her hips a little closer to him.
“What about you?” he asks.
“Not much.”
“What is it about this case?”
“For me or for you?”
“For you.”
“Your profile.  The killer kills because he hates his victims and because he likes to kill.  Inflicting pain is an instinct for him, something he was meant to do.”
“It.  It instinctively kills.  Killing is what it was meant to do.”
“You’re really sticking to this skinwalker theory of yours?”
“The prints-”
“-are from a coyote.”
“A single coyote at every crime scene?”
“Coincidence.”
“And then left the body completely untouched?  Just sniffed around and went on its merry way?”
“I can’t tell you much about coyote behavior.”
“You don’t need to.”
“Mulder, a coyote didn’t kill those girls.”
“I agree.  A coyote didn’t.  A skinwalker did.  All the evidence-”
“What evidence!” she barks.  “There is no fuh…”
“There is no fuh?”
“There is no fucking evidence,” she whispers.  Her ears burn a little.
“I love it when you get riled up.”  Mulder smiles and reaches up to tap a finger on her bottom lip.  “Throwing out words you can’t say on network TV.”
“Shut up, Mulder.”
“So saucy.  And it looks like you got a little sunburn.  Does it hurt?”
“It’s fine.”
“Should we order dinner before the rain starts?”
“If I ever look at another slice of pizza it’ll be too soon.”
“There’s that diner we pass up the highway.”  Mulder shifts and pushes the sheets off his hip.  “I can-”
Scully pulls him back.  “No.  Don’t go.”
“Stay here with you?” he asks, moving his leg up higher over hers.  She feels his towel fall away from his hips.  “Where I’m not supposed to be?”
“What would you be doing right now if this didn’t exist?”  She waves her hand between them, from his shoulder to her chest.
“I’d probably have pulled the blinds and I’d be lying in the dark listening to the ballgame and brooding.  What would you be doing?”
“Poring over autopsy notes hoping to catch something I’d missed.  Have we let the work slip?  We said we wouldn’t.”
He moves his head closer to hers and peppers her face with kisses as he speaks.  “You’re still shooting down my bullet-proof theories with the same zeal as three months ago, so I’d say we still got it.”
“We can’t afford to get distracted.  Not now.”
“We’re just taking a break.”
She pulls his mouth away from her brow and brings him down for a kiss.  It’s slow and deep and  and sensual.  Over the soft sound of their lips smacking, the patter of rain begins to fill the room.  Mulder lifts his head and looks over his shoulder at the closed window.
“If you want to quit now,” he says.  “You can find work as a meteorologist.”
“What would you do?”
“Salons always need a good washboy don’t they?”
“Oh no, I’m not letting anyone else near those magic fingers of yours.”
“Magic fingers?”  Mulder lifts a hand in the air and stares at his fingers as he wiggles them.   “I do believe that is the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
Quite quickly, the rainfall becomes louder and more intense.  Mulder turns his head again and they both listen to the downpour.  The room grows dimmer and Scully lifts her eyes up where the shadows of the rain that slides down the window wave across the ceiling.  There’s a light hissing sound outside and she thinks the pavement must be steaming.
Scully tugs on Mulder’s shoulder until he turns back towards her and she wiggles down to rest her ear over his heart.  She closes her eyes and counts the beats as he twines his arms and legs around her.  She tries to stay in the moment, to clear her mind and appreciate the simple act of listening to her lover’s heartbeat, but all she can think about is the hope that no one else dies tonight.  And how much she hates the fucking desert.
The End
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thesunlounge · 6 years ago
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Reviews 207: Pablo’s Eye
My first encounter with the music of Axel Libeert and his frequent collaborators Marie Mandi and Thierry Royo came through Music From Memory’s stunning Uneven Paths compilation, which opened with the atmospheric seaside ambiance and flowing lyricisms of Nightfall in Camp’s “Cada Dia.” And though this track was an easy stand-out from a compilation overflowing with incredible music, I had little idea to what degree its creators would come to dominate my life over the course of the next year. As it turns out, Nightfall in Camp was but a prelude to Pablo’s Eye, Axel’s longstanding esoteric sound collective that I was first introduced to through STROOM’s Spring Break compilation, specifically the track “Amb 7.” I was instantly ensnared by the sonic dreamworlds of hallucinogenic beauty and in the short time it took for STROOM to release their second Pablo’s Eye set entitled Bardo for Pablo, I had taken as deep dive into the collective’s extensive and eclectic back catalog, soaking up every piece of enigmatic and mystical sound art that I could find. It was a wonderful journey through realms of enveloping minimalist drone collages, spiritual ambient experimentations, heart-wrenching post-classical string meditations, drugged up dub rituals, 90s chill-out psychedelia, jazz fusion adventures, spoken word esoterica, and so much else besides…basically some of my favorite styles and shades of music ever all coming together in way that is spiritually kin to the early outputs of Kranky and Constellation Records. And at the start of 2019, STROOM and Pablo’s Eye finally completed their immense reissue series with the spellbinding and mysterious Dark Matter.
For these collections, label head Ziggy Devriendt relies on his sorcerous ability to sift through an artist’s history, pick idiosyncratic and often unheard gems, and weave them together into a definitive yet wholly unique tapestry and the curative work across these three compilations is among his best, with the individual releases allowing him to shine a light on distinct subspaces within the Pablo’s Eye universe. Spring Break pulls most heavily from 1991’s Barcelona (Architects Of)” and 1995’s You Love Chinese Food and thus finds the band exploring pop-leaning balearica, seaside fusion, and hypnotic trance states. Bardo for Pablo, on the other hand, features some never before released studio explorations of abstract jungle rhythms, tribal drum exotica, and dub delay madness while also bringing together two of the groups most epic club cuts, as the breakbeat majesty of “Amb 8” flows into the cosmic ecstasy of “Prepare for the Others to Follow (N.Y. Cypher Mix).” Then for Dark Matter, Ziggy mines Devotions (1992), All She Wants Grows Blue (1998), Realismo (1999), and once again, You Love Chinese Food. Given that these albums in part source Spring Break, it’s remarkable how different Dark Matter is in sound and vibe, as it sees the band journeying through shadowy cloudrealms of spectral drone and unsettling kosmische. And tying the whole collection together is Richard Skinner, the visionary writer and frequent Pablo’s Eye collaborator whose words and poetry adorn each release and provide powerful textual accompaniments to the far-out sonic dreamscapes. 
Pablo’s Eye - Spring Break (STROOM, 2018) “Blind and Quiet” is introduced by ritualistic kicks and hypnotizing loops built from cosmic sub-bass currents. Cut-up drones of liquid silver fly all around and eventually, the fried electro-fractals give way to angelic atmospheres. Heavily effected string instruments morph through delirious delays in “Double Language” and lead to blissed out passages of new age beauty. Hushed cloud movements of blurred light background otherworldly prayer calls and Marie Mandi’s narcotic voice…her spiritual intonations and enchanting incantations flowing above smeared out waveforms and rattling percussive tones bouncing thought rapid-fire echoes. The ethereal beauty of an outerspace mermaid choir is contrasted by disturbing religious samples and we eventually climax with a passage of breathtaking transcendence, as Patrick Hanappier let’s loose a funeral violin folk song over dark piano bass textures and feverish siren songs and to these ears, his playing has a deep kinship with Sophie Trudeau’s on the first GY!BE album. And after all of this, we end with a carnivalesque passage of bleary pan-pipes and backwards sliding orchestrations. “La Pedrera” follows with glassy guitar chords and dreamy harmonic arpeggiations. Spacious bass pulses join Dirk Wachtelear’s ride cymbal for a swaying jazz groove with airs of Badalamenti and Twin Peaks. Marie’s hypnotizing spoken word patterns join in as the downbeat heroin jazz vibes are accentuated by scatting trumpets and hazy synth leads and towards the end, the track evolves into a beautiful trumpet showcase wherein Gino Lattuca’s gorgeous brass webs are joined by crystalline guitar chords.
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“That Night Together with Her” begins with a heartfelt violin meditation wherein bowed melodies cut the difference between hypnotic minimalism and folk Americana in a way that evokes Henry Flynt. Amorphous echo-guitars generate futuristic drone tapestries before giving way to a cut-up panorama of reversing cymbals that sound like the fluttering wings of a metallic bird. Sparse kicks and meditative bass pulses induce a spiritual jazz drift and eventually harmonious clouds of swelling guitar join in while Patrick tugs at the heartstrings with his breathtaking violin runs. And as the track ends, pastoral guitar wanderings and vaporous synths background the violin before it all gives way to beachside field recordings. Then in “Otis (Rumours of Rain),” we smash cut into a dreamworld of ambient fusion, with jamming e-piano chords riding alongside scatting synth riffs. Dirk’s rimshots and cymbals hold down a flowing pulse that’s always on the verge of exploding while Thierry’s smokey guitars vibe out with sliding licks and liquid riffs. Aquatic synths leads and bass textures float as Gino’s trumpet journeys through the sky and during a swooning coda, ghostly hazes and guitar harmonics background mournful horn flights. “El Barrio Gótico” sees noir shrouded guitar arpeggiations overlying moaning voices of desperation. Majestic and shadowy string orchestrating give way to terrifying streaks of bowed noise while the electronic hi-hats, sparse tom fills, industrial snare smashes, and stuttering kicks lock into a hypno-pulse. All the while, wild distorted leads blasts in and fry the mind…like anthemic stadium-sized 80s synths twisted into sonic fire.
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“Amb 7,” starts with looping voices and spectral clouds swirling around heart-wrenching violin runs. Things change drastically as a fractured tribal rhythms flash side to side, creating a heady glide through dark dream realms where the voices of shadow spirit entrance the mind. Subaqueous bass swells sit deep in the mix while shakers give further propulsion to the mysterious sound flows and warm guitar solos encircle the mind with jazzy runs of cosmic melancholia. There’s a moment where most of the atmospheric elements vaporize into air, leaving the toms to pound away until fluttering and ecstatic violin solos enter…sounding as if beamed in from another dimension…while all around the organic grooves resume their march through a futuristic jungle. The Henry Flynt connections return once again, though it sounds as if he has been transported to a faraway realm of electro-cosmic energy as crazed violin explosions soar over the zoned out drum ceremonials before it all ends with a soft outro of pitter-patter tom play and guitars dropping from a golden sky. “A Long Standing Dream” exists in a world of harsh phasing cymbals and euphoria drone waves emanating from an ocean of light. It’s dissonant yet purifying, as strands of feedback wrap around Dirk’s percolating tom patterns and breathy cymbal pulses. Everything slowly phases and mutates while all around, psychedelic synth bubbles and sci-fi pads bounce on heatwave currents,  cascading echoes wrap around everything, gentle oscillations ride on etherwaves, and layered metal taps and hissing tambourines give the mystical rhythms further shape.
Pablo’s Eye - Bardo for Pablo (STROOM, 2018) “Amb 8” is the epic sequel to “Amb 7” and starts with choppy waves of gorgeous sonic bliss moving back and forth across four-four kicks and rattling shakers. Dial-tone sequences bathed in cosmic mist snake through the air and as dubwise snares crack in one ear, their reverb shrouded delay trails diffuse in the other. Liquid mid-bass sequences join the sci-fi dance, simultaneously tracking the dial-tone synths and playing off the echosnares while factory industrialisms intertwine with interstellar jungle mysticisms. The same hypnotizing voice loops that appear in “Amb 7” are also here floating through the air and at some point, swelling self-oscillatory chaoswaves overtake the mix as the kick recedes, leaving the militant shakers to fly above swinging exotica basslines, mesmeric toms flows, and synth sequences mimicking intergalactic cyborg breaths. Then in a moment of pure inspired magic, a mammoth breakbeat fades in, all baggy 90s glory moving through swirling metallic fogs and mind-wrapping sequences for an extended and drugged out groove. As the entrancing voices return, they bring with them overwhelming clouds of rotating sonic light that eventually wash out the breaks and reveal a haunted passage of drone built from ascendent yet ominous color pulses, streaking synth smears, and obscured voices. The rest of the track is like a dream recollection of what came before, as funky basslines, circling toms, euphoria breaks, and splattering kicks all intermingle within an alien rainforest suffused with darkness, one where neon plants glow with strange energies and distant drum rituals vibrating from unseen origins.
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In 1996, Pablo’s Eye released the Prepare for the Others to Follow single containing various far-out remixes and reworks of the exotically dubbed out drum’n’bass title track, an easy stand out of which was the “Cypher NY Mix.” A sub-bass hum rings out from the center of the universe, its inky black waves of immersive sonic warmth suffused through by sparkling feedback textures…as if luminescent insects have been transmuted into sound. Heady tom-tom melodies bounce through echo caverns while harsh filter fx, ultra-crushed drum smashes, and cosmic winds move all around. Crystalline reverb fluids drop into glowing pools and the sense of floating euphoria is carried further by a drugged out beat that fades in from oceanic depths…a loved up and emotional break soaring on paradise waves. It’s easy to get lost in the swooning chill-out room hypnotics, as snares decay through infinite sheets of reverb, universal bass hums float the spirit towards realms of ecstasy, and ghosts of memory howl at the edges of the mix. The following track “Today” sees shadowy drum’n’bass rhythms charging through a panoramic world of delay madness while throbbing bass pulsations chug into the darkness. Clattering drum cascades roll endlessly as  longform panning fx hypnotize the mind and there are almost no transitions…just murky beat and bass loops repeating until the entrance snake rattles and palm-muted guitar percolations. And eventually the rhythms pull away, leaving wavering strings to blast through the sky as rattlesnake motions and metallic pings grow into walls of oscillatory chaos.
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“My Only Guide Is” features hallucinatory and rattle-heavy drum storms that obscure sliding liquid melodics. Delays morph and modulate everything with occasional forays in to self-oscillating psychedelia and as the overwhelming bass clouds recede, tom-toms and hand drums merge for mystical rhythm ceremonies where bells and tambourines shake and sparkle. The rest of the track spends its time cutting back and forth between various extra-terrestrial drum rituals, with snake charmer bass fluids, charging tribal cascades, and rainforest energies overflowing with wild and rapturous magic as chimes and shakers wrap the soul in colorful sound spirals. Wild beat layers falling over themselves, anxious double-time hats, bouncing dub echoes, and marching ceremonies scrambled into alien chaosclouds…this is “Self-Abandonment.” Elsewhere, unidentifiable rattling noises flow aside cosmic chirps and satellite transmissions…the vibe militant and mind-melting, powerful and propulsive…especially as clacking snare rolls fire side to side. Motorik textures give further shape to the crazed drum adventures while also allowing them to spread even further out into realms of hysteria and as the track progresses, everything seems to filter and pan while growing increasingly fractured and kaleidoscopic. “I Have No Other Compass” closes Bardo for Pablo with sickly pads wavering in the moonlight. It’s the world as reflected through the surface of a disturbed body of liquid, with overlapping layers creating feedback resonances, bodies of ether spinning uncontrollably, and heart-throb melodies transmuting across universes.
Pablo’s Eye - Dark Matter (STROOM, 2019) In “Worship & Passion,” sinister high-frequency drones evoking classical horror film music are swarmed around by echoing voices, disorienting bass textures, mournful violin fantasias, and jeweled webs of plucked guitar harmonics. Marie intones “floating down the river…to paradise” among other softly spoken lines of poetry while synthetic choirs rush in from the depths alongside atonal acoustic string slides, sampled speech, and Patrick’s aching viol streaks. Then in “More Hesitant Than Before,” looping dronewaves of string cacophony spin through the sky alongside oscillating echoes. Long deliberate bow strokes repeat endlessly while ominous atmospheres boil underneath and the vibe is like awakening impossibly far beneath the surface of the sea…no light, no sound…just unsettling, almost malevolent currents surrounding the body and hinting at unseen intelligences and unknowable animal forms. Phasing fx and psychedelic pans lull the mind into a trance as viscous bodies of black light wash over the soul and towards the end, rumbling percussive drones enter…like the fading shadow of some ritualistic tribal ceremony. 
“Different Observers” has shades of “Prepare for the Others to Follow” as toms ping-png through a deep space corridor. Twitching reverb fx are locked into pulsating rhythms alongside sub-bass kicks and murky voices are smeared into a drug haze as they flash into and out of existence. An alien muezzin calls out from a minaret in the center of an eternal desert expanse while up above, clouds of green and blue swarm amongst the stars. The massive kicks, mutating cymbals, and percolating toms grow ever louder while the voices become increasingly shrouded in dense of fogs of reverb and towards the end, fast motion melodic drum tones rolling through outerspace echoboxes overlay gigantic reverb blasts…like a bass drum heard from miles below the surface of the earth. “She Would Stand Alone” sees deep and discordant bass notes wrapping around vibrating strings of metal…as if a piano has been gutted and transformed into some sort of ritualistic mallet instrument. And all around, droning cymbal taps like falling pebbles on infinite sheets of brass flow forwards and backwards in time.
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A spiritual bath of radiant drone begins “He Closed His Eyes” before leading to a clattering and shambolic rhythm. Tin can percussion and wavering music box melodies are surrounded by glimmering streaks of audial silver and deep space atmospherics while spectacular reverb tails hover in place and vibrate with a sense of alien electricity. The barely there drum flow is accented by chain-off snare smashes and at some point, the very same looped and reversed voices from both “Amb 7” and “Amb 8” appear here as well, forming a subtle sonic thread weaving together all three parts of the Pablo’s Eye retrospective. The A-side the ends with “When You Were Asleep,” which offers a mental cleansing by way of spectral waves of new age shimmer and forms a direct contract to the preceding explorations of mystical darkness. Heavenly ambient washes are colored around the edges by narcotizing distortion smears and beneath it all, throbbing bass currents drift the spirit on a universal river of light.
“L.A. Desert” opens the B-side with Dark Matter’s first real semblance of rhythm, seeing cymbal taps, sparse kicks, and bubbling bass notes bringing more of that Badalamenti-style noir jazz. Marie glides over top with enigmatic dreamspell lyricisms while island bongos, synth blasts, and smokey fusion leads dance together. Exotic and unidentifiable voice samples drift above crystalline Rhodes chords and everything works together towards a downtempo drug sway. But as things progress, the vibe turns shadowy…almost funereal, and keeps Marie repeating “I’ve lost sense of hearing / dying couldn’t be worse”…a sentiment that is terrifying and all too relatable. Gaseous synths swell alongside diamond sound bursts as cosmic organs weave heavenly hymns and all the while, the vocals grow increasingly pleading…desperate…afraid. Thunder crashes and spring reverb flashes then begin “She Told Him The News,” while distorted voices cycle over ominous orchestrations and psychoactive drum ceremonies swirl in a vortex and sometimes recede completely into the maelstrom of droning noise.
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“Tamil Nadu” features emotive contrabass soloing and fiery saxophones from Geoff Leigh…like the score of a detective movie abstracted into pure mood. Body-subsuming bass textures and spaced out electronics wash all around as massive rumbling sub-bass noises approximate thunderstorms. Elsewhere, the brass and bass scat through a nightmare land of jazz hysteria and it all ends with bowed double bass vapors drifting into pale starlight. After this, “A Pagan Use” builds on mysterious voices emanating from unknown dimensions that intertwine, merge, and create ghostly resonances. Electro-kicks bounce and mutate through cosmic echo-chains, static transmissions hover just beyond comprehension and at some point, tom-toms enter and skip across reverb coated bass pulses. Once the shadowclouds recede, they leave the drums to vibe out within heavily distorted voice broadcasts and as the ominous atmospherics swell back in, they gyrate and combust over sensual rhythmic throbs.
The dub side of Pablo’s Eye is showcased most overly on Dark Matter’s final two tracks, starting with “Out of the Corner of Her Eye.” Here, pounding and swamped out machine riddims crash through ethereal drone vapors. Globules of liquid bass rise up through viscous neon pools…their delirious patterns locking into a strange yet entrancing groove aside the swaggering rhythm boxes. Cymbals and snares fire off in a hypnotic dance while further horror film string drones wrap around the mix and voices seem to emanate from unseen corners of the mind…childlike and all the more disturbing because of it. Shuffling shaker and cymbal patterns enters, all anxious and futuristic, and the track evolves in a heady IDM ritual while terrify ambient clouds move in slow circles. Then in “Loisaida Dub,” celestial brass melodies are smeared into bodies of white light and repeated waves of mystical magic ebb and flow. Chaotic weavings of percussive psychedelia intersperse the rapturous walls of sound…these blipping laser clouds of sci-fi noise, intergalactic fx, and chittering insect laughter that contract the meditative pulses that work the mind towards transcendence. It’s a push/pull between blissful euphoria and psychoactive drone chaos…one that perfectly embodies the entire spirit of this mercurial group of artists.
(images from my personal copies)
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baglove · 2 years ago
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(via cute dragon with wonderful colors Active T-Shirt by mohammed elhachimi)
blossom conch orchid peach puff peony pepto bismal persian petunia pig cadillac champagne diamond grapefruit lemonade sherbet polka dot powder cotton candy cranberry cupcake eraser flamingo flesh fuchsia hibiscus jellyfish lavender plum lipstick, magenta misty mulberry petal quartz rosy red ruby sand seashell strawberry jam milkshake sunset tea thistle tongue tulip turnip worm neon black cat coffee licorice pearl pepper tar blackboard blackout blue bow tie carbon kohl mars mascara mica, midnight molasses night sky ninja obsidian onyx outer space chalkboard charcoal coal ebony eclipse eyelash fig gothic hearse ink jet jetty piano key pitch pupil raven sable spade spider tarmac kick ass woman man women girl girly tough fitness, run running sprint yoga pilates cooking blaze blazing accented achromatic ashen ashy atomic beaming bi color bleached bleak blended blotchy bold brash bright brilliant burnt checkered chromatic classic clean colored colorful colorless complementing, contrasting 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vexkader · 4 years ago
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Solis Part 2
  Wet grasses stained my paws I stepped off the ship. Looking at my surroundings I was in a small field. Grass reaching a few inches. In the distance was a jungle teeming with hoots and hollers, as storm rolled in the distance. Leaving a trail of puffy grey clouds against a sky with a lazy yellow hue.
  I made sure my revolver was holstered, my armor tight, and my comms working with BB. Then I was off, marching into the jungle aiming at the mountain. 
  The air made things uncomfortable as I trudged through the muddy earth. Making my fur stick to everything, sweat pouring down my face. Tall vine-covered trees providing some shelter from the sun, palms with glowing purple accents dotting the forest, as poisonous yellow and red flowers dotted the ground. Warning anything that may try to eat them. 
  The scene was beautiful, if not dangerous. I had to be on my guard here. The plants, as many thorn and spines they had. Were nothing to the carnivorous beasts you found on this planet. 
  Howls and roars of these reptiles could be heard in the distance, even the odd chirping of the animals flying above. My ears twisting and turning to each sound, listening to anything that might be considering me for lunch.
  Treading ever on ward, the soft and mushy ground slowly became more rocky. The jagged black rocks mixing with the dirt. Slowly pacing itself into an incline. The trees changing slowly as well. The once bright green and purple palms, making way for dark broadleaf trees. Their roots and vines creating a claustrophobic ground. 
  The trees were so densely packed together, it was getting harder to see. Echos of the jungle creeping ever so much in my mind. My nerves keeping me on edge if I was jumped at. 
  My march continued as rocks and trees continued to change. The sharp volcanic rocks becoming bigger and bigger, wanting to choke out life. But it found its way, as the trees got bigger and bigger. The base of the mountain was near, this I was sure of now. In addition to the hiking I was now climbing over the rocks. Gingerly taking hold of them, to not slice my paws wide open. 
  Breath started to escape my lungs, feeling the burning from climbing rock after rock. gripping vine after vine. The towering mountain taking up most of my view, but I finally came to my destination. A small cave opening, once was a lava flow. Revealed itself from small bits of bushes covering it. 
  I smiled to myself. "Finally", said out loud. "About time I reached ya!" 
  Stepping forward, I treaded down into the cave. Arms slightly swaying from the sudden down ward walk. Rocks tumbled and cracked against each other. Blackened sand swished its way down. With the sudden absence of light, my suits flash light turned on. Illuminating the dark tube. 
  Its rough circular and jagged nature was still surprisingly easy to navigate. Taking time to catch my breath from the climb. Pawing at the sides with wonder. Hundreds of years ago, lava forced its way through this mountain. Helping forge the Venus we know and live on today. 
  Further and further into the tube, it started to open up into a full cave system. The warm and humid air from the outside replaced with just pure hot air, and the smell of burning. The sound of flowing lava nearby, telling me I was close. Last time I was in this cavern, I followed the lava down. Which it lead me to the ruin. Intending to do that again, I stepped to the sound. 
  Closer and closer I got, the cavern started to illuminate with a blue hue. Soon pulsing and slowly flowing lava was in sight. A deep, dark blue color. Its light bouncing off the black rock of the cave, almost reflecting off. Letting out a cough from the heavy air, filling with molten rock and smoke. I cursed myself for not bringing my respirator. No matter it was a short hike now. 
  I went deeper in, after the bubbling lava. Careful not to burn or singe myself. Staying on the cooler ends of the rocks. The small flow soon turning into a river, flowing a bit faster. My sights lefts the lava river for only a moment, turning to what was now a huge cavern before me. 
  Gazing upon the awe-inspiring sight, it was just as I remembered. This cavern was huge! Hosting all sorts of weird and wonderful things! Hopping into it, I took a bit more time to look around. Turning off my flashlight as a hole in the roof of the cave let in enough natural sunlight. Vines and ferns nearly tumbling down. 
  Off to my right side was a vast lava lake, twisting and turning. Flowing to the rock beneath me and into the crust below. A few small trees and bushes grew, shallow root systems sucking up whatever they could. careful not to reach the magma below. Sleek and shiny black rocks were everywhere, making up the structure of this place. Leveling out every so often, making me clamber up about three to four feet each time. 
  But all of this beauty was nothing compared to the mythical fashion of what laid before me. Towering above it all, nearly reaching the top of the cavern. Was a structure, not like anything made by man. Its design screamed a sophistication not known to us. 
  Flowing designs, as it looked to made of white marble. Angles never used, as everything curved into each other. Forming a tower. In the center of this tower, was a window like pane, a generous amount of gemstones filling it in. All a familiar shade of purple. Everything covered in accents of silver. 
  Everything of this contrasted with the ruggedness of this cave. The soothing white marble, compared to the harsh and slicing black of the lava rock. Stepping up to the structure was a series of stairs and bridges, all ornate with the same patterns. The white marble, purple gems smoothed and buffered into the building itself. Silver railing for the bridges, over hypnotic lava. 
  The contrast was glaring at first, but it all blended together for a beautiful serene picture. Gracefully guiding my paws against it. Feeling smooth and cool, granting them some solace. 
  Slowly I reached the top, a massive archway and door in my way. Made out of the very gems that led me here, but this time with deep moving designs. A faint blue color, they begged me to touch. Circled and planetary like designs all crossing forming with each other. Eagerly waiting for my return. 
  Then came the part I never understood, but what felt natural. I pressed my paw against the deep purple, moving against the blue. Forming them to my will, my wants. So they listened. The door began to phase away, not even leaving a cool wind in good-bye. No matter I was after its secrets beyond. 
  And beyond they were shown! In the seat of the tower was a beautiful hollow tree. Made of silver and etched in a flowing design. Leaves of amethyst. Breathing in deeply, I took in its lack of scent. Feeling calmed by the tree's presence. Moving forward, I went to the trees embrace. Enticed by its gift in the center. A glowing purple crystal. A perfect sphere in shape, with a silver ring around it. Flowing gently as the ice around Saturn does. 
  Stepping up to it, I gazed in its beauty. Filling my vision once again with promises of the future. Gently I took it up in my paw, maw gaping as I viewed it. It was majestic, nothing could recreate this beauty. 
  "Show me.. show me what you showed last time. Make me understand." The words I spoke didn't feel like my own, even though they came from my mouth. 
  My wish granted however, my vision blurring. Everything feeling fast as wind whipped across my face! Blowing my fur around all over, freezing my mouth inside!
  My eyes opened to a blurry scene. It felt like a dream, but as if this was real. A cold wind whirled and twirled. Snow falling from the sky against red sand. Mars... I was on Mars. 
  But the sand was not the only red thing, looking around I could see flames everywhere. Burning the massive skyscrapers of steel and concrete. Neon lights flickered in and out. Some still showing the stores they advertised for, others warning you to seek shelter or evacuate. 
  I wasnt there to evacuate, as a seething hatred boiled inside me. Standing up from my knees, I wiped the blood from my nose. Staining my grey fur red. Blood? I don't remember bleeding. It felt warmer than the fires around me, as my body felt colder than the snow falling. 
  Looking back up, I could see a hazy figure on an overpass above me. An unnatural being, as if it was of twisted metal. Letting out a demented and robotic yell, it surveyed my pass below. Looking over each building and spotting me. Raising a rod like arm as a purple beam shot from it! Burning deep into my chest, blistering and boiling. 
  Soon I found myself falling with the snow, coughing and gurgling. My chest turning inside out as the grey Martian sky disappeared from my view. 
  
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writinggeisha · 6 years ago
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Why is color in writing so important?
Pablo Picasso said that “Colors, like features, follow the changes of the emotions.” Picasso was an artist who evoked emotion with colorful pigments. As a writer, you can do the same with colorful words.
Note the different pictures painted by the following two paragraphs.
Ned gazed at the calypso-orange horizon. A lapis-blue speck sparkled above it in the deepening violet of a new night sky—Planet Vorton, home.
Ned gaped at the corpse-grey horizon. A mold-blue speck festered above it in the deepening black of a smoggy night sky—Planet Vorton, home.
Same number of words, different colors, with complementing adjectives and verbs. One paragraph emanates optimism, the other gloom.
Compound adjectives sometimes require hyphens.
According to The Chicago Manual of Style, if a compound adjective appears before a noun, it should be hyphenated.
Compare the following examples:
Tristan wore an eye-catching purple tie. Tristan’s purple tie was eye catching.
Wendi modeled a melon-pink dress. Wendi’s dress was melon pink.
Accent colors with adjectives.
Here’s a list over one hundred adjectives from thousands you could choose to produce more vivid descriptions of the colors in your writing.
A Accented, achromatic, ashen, ashy, atomic
B Blazing, bleached, bleak, blinding, blotchy, bold, brash, bright, brilliant, burnt
C Chromatic, classic, clean, cold, complementing, contrasting, cool, coordinating, creamy, crisp
D Dark, dayglow, dazzling, deep, delicate, digital, dim, dirty, drab, dreary, dull, dusty
E Earthy, electric, energetic, eye-catching
F Faded, faint, festive, fiery, flashy, flattering, fluorescent, frosty, full-toned
G Gaudy, glistening, glittering, glossy, glowing
H Harsh, hazy, hot
I Icy, illuminated, incandescent, intense, iridescent
K Knockout
L Lambent, light, loud, luminous, lusterless, lustrous
M Majestic, matte, medium, mellow, milky, monochromatic, muddy, murky, muted
N Natural, neon, neutral
O Opalescent, opaque
P Pale, pastel, patchy, pearly, perfect, picturesque, plain, primary, pure
R Radiant, reflective, rich, royal, ruddy, rustic
S Satiny, saturated, shaded, sheer, shining, shiny, shocking, showy, smoky, soft, solid, somber, soothing, sooty, sparkling, stained, streaked, streaky, striking, strong, subdued, subtle, sunny, swirling
T Tacky, tinged, tinted, tonal, toned, traditional, translucent, transparent
U Undiluted, uneven, uniform
V Vibrant, vivid
W Wan, warm, washed-out, waxen, wild
Enhance multicolored objects with adjectives such as these.
B Bicolor, blended, braided
C Cataclysmic-colored, checkered, compound, contrasting, crisscrossed
D Dappled, disparate, dotted, dusted
F Flecked, freckled, fused
I Intermixed, interwoven
J Jumbled
L Lined
K Kaleidoscopic
M Many-hued, marbled, mingled, mixed, motley, mottled, multicolored, multihued
P Particolored, patterned, peppered, piebald, pied, polychromatic, prismatic, psychedelic
S Salted, speckled, splotched, stippled
T Two-tone, tricolor
V Varied, variegated, veined
Nouns provide more opportunities to add color and detail.
A Accent
B Bleach, brightness, brilliance
C Chroma, clarity, CMYK, coating, color wheel, colorant, coloration, cover
D Deposit, depth, diffusion, dimension, dispersion, dye
F Film, finish, flicker, fluorescence
G Glare, glaze, gleam, glimmer, glint, glisten, glitter, glow, gradation
H Henna, highlight, hint, hue
I Incandescence, intensity, iridescence
L Lacquer, layer, lightness, lowlight, luminosity, luster
M Monotone
N Nuance
O Opacity, opalescence
P Paint, Pantone, patina, peroxide, pigment, pigmentation, polish, prism, purity
R Radiance, rainbow, RGB, residue, rinse
S Sample, saturation, seam, shade, sheen, shimmer, shine, smidgeon, sparkle, spectrum, stain, stratum, streak, stripe, suggestion, surface, swatch
T Tattoo, tester, tier, tincture, tinge, tint, tone, touch, trace, twinkle
U Undertone
V Varnish, vein, veneer
Find more writing tips in
The Writer’s Lexicon and The Writer’s Lexicon Volume II
.
Available in both digital and print editions. –
Perhaps these verbs will provide inspiration.
Colors can blend, clash, or enhance. They might revitalize, fade, or overlap. Choose carefully to provide the nuance you need in your writing.
A Accent, accentuate, appear, attract
B Balance, bathe, bespatter, blanch, blare, blaze, blench, bleach, blend, blotch, brighten, brush, burn
C Captivate, clash, color, combine, complement, conflict, contrast, coordinate, crayon
D Darken, daub, draw, decolorize, decorate, deepen, dot, draw, dye
E Embellish, emit, enhance, enliven
F Fade, flare, flash, flatter, fleck
G Glare, glaze, gleam, glimmer, glint, glisten, glow
H Harmonize, heighten, highlight
I Illuminate, infuse, intensify
J Jar
L Light, lighten
M Match, meld, merge, mingle, mix
O Outline, overlap
P Paint, permeate, pervade, plaster
R Radiate, revitalize
S Saturate, seal, shade, shine, sketch, smear, sparkle, splash, splatter, spray, spread, stain, suffuse
T Tinge, tint
V Varnish
W Wash
Invent colors.
Your ingenuity is the only limit with invented colors. Consider a few examples.
Yolanda sashayed toward me, hips swiveling in a seduction-red skirt that complemented her bad-baby-black lipstick.
Either Yolanda intends to ravish our narrator, or he hopes she’s a bad girl with seduction on her mind.
Bruise-blue eyes stared out through glasses crisscrossed with cracks. Matching lumps burgeoned from Marco’s chin and cheeks.
Readers will make the connection between bruise-blue and the lumps, imagining someone who has been beaten or injured.
Find color ideas by googling phrases such as “things that are green” or “things that look blue.”
And now, a kaleidoscope of colors.
Some of the following lists contain invented colors. Many are based on objects we encounter in our environment. You can use almost any noun to create an adjective that will resonate with readers.
For the next several years, Trump blond or Hillary blonde will produce instant mental images.
Science fiction might use deep-space black, quasar blue, or starburst yellow.
An environmentalist could choose colors such as oil-slick black, smog grey, or acid-rain yellow.
Choose or invent colors that intensify your writing.
You can use many of these words as is, or precede the color they represent to produce a compound adjective. Rather than anthracite, for example, you might prefer anthracite black.
Black Anger black, anthracite, bat black, boot black, cat black, cave black, cavity black, charcoal, coal black, crow black, deep-space black, ebony, evil black, funeral black, grease black, ink, jade black, jet, leather black, licorice, metal black, midnight, mildew black, mold black, night black, obsidian, oil-slick black, onyx, pitch black, raven, sable, shadow black, shoe-polish black, silhouette black, smoky, sooty, spider black, tar black, tire black, tuxedo black, uber black, velvet black
Blond/Blonde Although blond can be used for either males or females, I and many writers prefer blond to describe males and blonde to describe females. Likewise with gender-identified pets and animals.
Why?
Blond was adopted into English from French, and the French language uses gender-specific descriptors.
Compound adjectives in the following list are spelled with the feminine form.
Almond-crème blonde, amber, apple-cider blonde, apricot, ash blonde, banana-bread blonde, blanched, bleached, bombshell, bottle blonde, brassy, bronze, brown-sugar blonde, butter blonde, butternut, butterscotch, caramel, chamomile blonde, champagne, chardonnay blonde, corn blonde, diamond blonde, dirty blonde, dishwater blonde, electric blonde, flaxen, French-fry blonde, frosted blonde, gilded blonde, ginger, ginger-ale blonde, ginger spice, golden, goldenrod, Hillary blonde, honey blonde, honey-butter blonde, honeysuckle blonde, hot-toffee blonde, macadamia blonde, mushroom blonde, neon blonde, peroxide blonde, platinum, sand blonde, straw blonde, strawberry blonde, sunflower blonde, sun-kissed blonde, sunset blonde, tarnished-gold blonde, Trump blond/e, trumpet blonde, vanilla-malt blonde, vintage gold, wheat blonde
Blue Admiral blue, Aegean blue, agate blue, arctic blue, azure, baby blue, berry blue, blue-jay blue, blue-jeans blue, bluebell blue, blueberry blue, blueberry-juice blue, bluebird blue, blue-jay blue, brook blue, bruise blue, cadet blue, cerulean, china-blue, cobalt, cornflower blue, crystal blue, denim blue, electric blue, forget-me-not blue, galaxy glue, gunmetal blue, ice blue, indigo, ink blue, jellyfish blue, lagoon blue, lake blue, lapis blue, laser blue, lilac blue, lobelia blue, mold blue, moon blue, navy, ocean blue, quasar blue, river blue, robin-egg blue, sapphire blue, sky blue, star blue, steel-blue, swimming-pool blue, teal, toilet-water blue, toothpaste blue, ultramarine
Brown Acorn brown, almond brown, amber, auburn, autumn brown, Bambi brown, beige, brandy brown, brick brown, bronze, brunet, buckeye brown, camel brown, caramel, carob brown, cedar brown, champagne brown, chestnut, chipmunk brown, chocolate brown, cinnamon, cider brown, clay brown, coffee brown, cognac brown, cookie brown, copper, cork brown, desert sand, drab brown, dun brown, ecru, espresso brown, fawn brown, football brown, freckle brown, ginger, gingerbread brown, golden brown, hazel, hickory brown, honey brown, infrabeige, kiwi brown, lion brown, loam brown, mahogany, maroon, merlot brown, mocha, mouse brown, mud brown, muddy brown, nut brown, oak brown, orange brown, peanut brown, pecan brown, pekoe brown, penny brown, pigskin brown, pretzel brown, rosewood, russet, rust, sandstone brown, seal brown, sepia, sienna, spice brown, syrup brown, taffy, tan, taupe, tawny brown, teddy-bear brown, topaz brown, tortilla brown, tourmaline brown, umber, walnut, wheat brown, whiskey brown, wood brown
Green Apple green, army green, artichoke green, asparagus green, avocado green, barf green, basil green, blue green, bottle green, bright green, cabbage green, camouflage green, cat’s-eye green, celery green, chartreuse, clover green, crocodile green, crystal-marble green, cyan, electric green, elf green, emerald, fern green, frog green, grape green, grass green, hypergreen, jade, jasper green, jelly green, juniper, kale green, khaki green, kiwi green, leaf green, LED green, olive, leprechaun green, lettuce green, lime, lizard green, loden, mildew green, mint, moss green, neon green, ocean green, parsley green, pea green, pea-soup green, peacock green, pear green, Perrier-bottle green, pickle green, pine green, puke green, sage, sea green, seafoam green, seasick green, seaweed green, seedling green, shamrock green, snot green, spinach green, spring green, sprout green, spruce green, tea green, teal, toad green, velvet green, viridian, watermelon green, yellow green
Grey/Gray Alien grey, aluminum grey, anchor grey, ash grey, battleship grey, bottle grey, boulder grey, carbon grey, cement grey, charcoal grey, cloud grey, coin grey, corpse grey, crater grey, death grey, dove grey, elephant grey, exhaust grey, fling grey, flint grey, fog grey, fossil grey, fungus grey, ginger grey, granite grey, graphite, gravel grey, gruel grey, gum grey, gunmetal grey, hippo grey, hoary grey, ice grey, iron grey, knife grey, lead grey, mercury grey, meteor grey, mummy grey, nail grey, nickel, otter grey, pebble grey, pepper grey, pewter, pigeon grey, porpoise grey, porridge grey, rat grey, salt-and-pepper, seal grey, shadow grey, shark grey, shovel grey, silver, slate, sleet grey, slug grey, slush grey, smog grey, smoke, steel grey, stone grey, storm grey, stormy grey, stormy-sea grey, sword grey, tabby grey, tank grey, tweed grey, wax grey, wolf grey
Orange Apricot orange, burnt orange, butternut orange, calypso orange, candlelight orange, cantaloupe orange, caramelized orange, carrot orange, cayenne orange, cheddar orange, cheese-cracker orange, Chinese-lantern orange, cider orange, citrus orange, clementine orange, coral orange, crayon orange, curry orange, fire orange, flame orange, goldfish orange, mac-and-cheese orange, mango-tango orange, mandarin orange, marigold orange, marmalade orange, monarch orange, nacho orange, nasturtium orange, naval orange, papaya orange, peach orange, peach-butter orange, peach-sorbet orange, popsicle orange, pumpkin orange, safety-vest orange, salamander orange, salmon orange, sherbet orange, shrimp orange, starfish orange, sunset orange, sweet-potato orange, tangelo orange, tangerine orange, terra cotta, tiger orange, traffic orange, yam orange
Pink Amaranth, azalea pink, baby pink, ballet-slipper pink, blush, bright pink, bubblegum pink, cantaloupe pink, carnation pink, cerise, champagne pink, cherry-rose pink, coral, cotton-candy pink, crepe pink, cupid pink, cyclamen pink, damask, flamingo pink, fuchsia, geranium pink, grapefruit pink, lemonade pink, magenta, mandarin pink, mango pink, melon pink, old-rose pink, oleander pink, parfait pink, pastel pink, peach, peach-blossom pink, peony pink, piggy pink, piglet pink, pomegranate pink, prom pink, punch pink, raspberry-smoothie pink, rose, rosewood pink, rouge pink, salmon pink, seashell pink, sherbet pink, shocking pink, strawberry pink, swine pink, taffy pink, watermelon pink, Zinfandel pink
Purple Amethyst purple, amparo purple, boysenberry purple, burgundy purple, Byzantium purple, clover purple, concord purple, coneflower purple, cyclamen purple, eggplant purple, fig purple, gentian purple, gooseberry purple, grape purple, heather, heliotrope, hyacinth purple, indigo, iris purple, jam purple, kazoo purple, lavender, lilac, lollipop purple, lotus purple, magenta, mauve, mulberry purple, onion purple, opal purple, orchid purple, periwinkle purple, petunia purple, pillow purple, plum, posy purple, primrose purple, raisin purple, regalia purple, rhubarb purple, royal purple, sage-flower purple, sangria purple, sugar-plum purple, tanzanite purple, Tyrian purple, violet, wild-berry purple, wine purple, wisteria purple
Red Apple red, auburn, beet red, berry red, blaze red, blood red, blush red, brick red, burgundy red, candy red, candy-apple red, candy-cane red, carrot red, cherry red, cherry-soda red, Christmas red, cinnamon-candy red, communist red, copper red, coral red, crab-apple red, cranberry red, crimson, currant red, fire red, fire-engine red, fire-hydrant red, flame red, flaming red, garnet red, ginger red, heart red, henna, holly-berry red, jam red, ketchup red, lady-bug red, LED red, licorice red, lipstick red, lobster red, maple-leaf red, merlot red, mulberry red, neon red, pepper red, pomegranate red, poppy red, radish red, raspberry red, roan, rose, rouge, ruby, Russian red, rust, rusty, Santa-suit red, scarlet, sorrel, stoplight red, strawberry red, sunburn red, titian, tomato red, tulip red, Valentine red, wanton red, watermelon red, wine red
White Alabaster, angel white, ash white, blizzard white, bone white, bread-dough white, cake white, cameo white, chalk, chaste white, chiffon white, china white, clamshell white, cloud white, coconut white, cornstarch white, cream, crème, dumpling white, eggshell white, fizz white, foam white, fog white, frost white, gardenia white, ghost white, goose-down white, heron white, hospital white, KKK white, ivory, lace white, lather white, lily white, linen white, lotus white, milk white, mist white, moonstone white, noodle white, paper white, parchment white, pearl white, phantom white, picket white, platinum white, polar white, porcelain white, powder white, rice white, salt white, Samoyed white, sheet white, skeleton white, snowflake white, specter white, starch white, sugar white, talc white, vellum white, virgin white, wedding-veil white, winter white, wonton white
Yellow Acid-rain yellow, autumn yellow, banana yellow, bourbon yellow, bumblebee yellow, butter yellow, buttercup yellow, butterscotch yellow, cadmium, canary yellow, chick yellow, corn yellow, custard yellow, daffodil yellow, daisy yellow, dandelion yellow, Dijon yellow, duckling yellow, egg-yolk yellow, flaxen, ginger yellow, gold, goldenrod, grapefruit yellow, hardhat yellow, honey yellow, jaundice yellow, lemon, macaroni yellow, maize, mustard, omelet yellow, pencil yellow, pineapple yellow, plantain yellow, poppy yellow, rubber-ducky yellow, saffron, sawdust yellow, school-bus yellow, scrambled-egg yellow, starburst yellow, sticky-note yellow, straw yellow, sulfur yellow, sun yellow, sunflower yellow, sweetcorn yellow, tallow yellow, taxi yellow, turmeric yellow, wasp yellow, whisky yellow, yield-sign yellow
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