#inspired by this screenshot I found in my camera roll from when I still had tt

[samwise1548]

Featuring a rarely drawn s3 Jon design

[ID: a drawing set in a bathroom. The format of the drawing is meant to emulate the layout of a TikTok. In the mirror above the sink is the reflection of Jonathan Sims from the Magnus Archives. He’s a brown skinned man with greying hair of medium length, glowing green eyes, a mustache and some stubble, pockmarked scars, as well as a scarred slit across his throat. He’s wearing a light blue NYC hoodie. He’s only visible above the hips in the mirror. Jon has a serious face on. One hand is holding a black phone to the mirror, and the other is raised above his head mid-dance. Pink text above him reads “Doing the caramelldansen dance every say at work until I’m fired” with the word “say” being a typo for day. Near the center, a pink text box says “Day 568.” On the right of the drawing is a row of icons. In order from top to bottom: a circular profile picture close up of a cats eye, a red heart, a speech bubble, and an arrow pointing right to send. The bottom left text reads “sims [dot] jarchivist” with an asperand symbol before it. Below that there is a hashtag followed by “caramelldansen” \End ID]

Version without the text under cut

[ID: The same drawing as above but the texts and icons on the right have been taken out. \End ID]

[hispipsqueak]

Late Night Calls

Tsukishima x F!Reader (NSFW)

A/N: Finally, writing about the actual love of my goddamn life. I hope you guys enjoy it! Yes I listened to the entirety of Ariana Grande’s discography while writing this.

TW: Daddy kink, sex over video call, semi public sex, dirty talk, exhibitionism (kind of?), mutual masturbation, no actual sex. 

The night was lonely and your bed felt way too big.

You rolled over for the twelfth time that night, looking over to the empty space where your boyfriend, Kei Tsukishima, usually slept. He was away at a game with his team, the Sendai Frogs, and even though you were extremely proud of his accomplishments, you couldn’t help but miss his large hands wrapped around your waist while you slept. You picked up your phone from the nightstand.

3:15 A.M

You groaned into your pillow. You had work in the morning, but without sleep, you knew you were going to be absolutely miserable. You tapped your phone until you found his contact name, and sent a quick text.

“Hey baby! I know you’re probably sleeping. Just miss you. Hope your trip is going well. <3”

You closed out of the app, and began to scroll through social media until your phone vibrated with a new text.

“Isn’t it past your bedtime, little girl?”

You couldn’t help but blush at his words. Tsukishima had a habit of making you feel so small in the best way. Call it an authority kink, but you loved it.

“So bossy. Plus, I can’t sleep without someone stealing my covers.”

You smiled, and curled up against his pillow. You could still smell the faint scent of his body wash embedded in it, which brought you some comfort. Your phone buzzed again.

“Sounds like a personal problem. Sucks to suck.” followed by a yawning emoji. 

You rolled your eyes. Though Tsukishima had definitely matured since high school, he was still a sarcastic jerk when he wanted to be. You looked around, before inspiration struck. You giggled to yourself and pulled the strap of your tank top down. You tousled your hair a bit, and grabbed his pillow, placing it in front of your chest, giving a peek of the top of your chest. Your mouth formed a sultry pout and you snapped a pic and sent it to him.

“I’m too cute to sleep alone.”

You waited for his response, hoping he didn’t fall asleep. What you didn’t expect was the chime, alerting you of a video call request. You accepted and the sleepy face of your boyfriend filled your screen. 

“As much as I agree, you need to get to sleep, doll.” Tsukishima said, his voice low. You figured he was rooming with a couple of his teammates and had to be quiet. His earbuds seemed to confirm this.

“I’m trying, but this bed is like, way too big. And I miss you, loser.” you pouted, knowing there was nothing he really could do but feeling bratty anyway.

His lip twitched with a small smile.  

“I miss you too, brat. But, I’m going to be away for two more days and I’m pretty sure you’ll die if you don’t sleep until then.” Tsukishima, turned and propped himself on his arm. You looked at him and were reminded by how gorgeous he was. His lips were soft and pink, his sleepy eyes were like liquid gold, and you could see the shadow of his Adam’s apple when he spoke again.

“What are you staring at, shortcake?”, he teased and your face flushed. 

“Aren’t I allowed to stare at my hot boyfriend?” You smiled and he rolled his eyes. But even through the phone you could see the blush creep on his cheeks. 

“You’re such a pervert.” He said, clearly at a loss for better insults.

“Like you aren’t. I know you only called me because my tits looked amazing in that picture I sent you.” You said, moving against the wall, so you could tease him with a slightly better view of them.

He parted his lips slightly, before looking back into your eyes. “Well, I certainly can’t argue with that, doll. Though, I might need a refresher, since I’ve been away for so long.”

You smirked at him. “Aren’t you in a room with other people right now? Pervert,”

He cocked his eyebrow and gave you a stare that you felt electrify your body.

“How about you stop being a brat and show me how much you miss me, little girl?” His voice was still low, but commanding. You could feel the heat pool between your thighs.

You slid off your tank top and the urge to cover yourself from his piercing gaze was overwhelming. He could see your arms itching to move to create some sense of modesty.

 “You look absolutely delicious, baby doll. Play with your tits for me.” He said, while his hand found its way to his boxers. You looked at him through your eyelashes and brought your fingers to squeeze and pinch at your nipples. You let out a soft moan.

Tsukishima lightly gripped the base of his cock and began to stroke himself to the private show you were giving him. 

You could see his arm muscles tensing and you licked your lip.

“Let me see how I make you feel, daddy.” you whispered, as your hand began to travel into your shorts.

Tsukishima’s eyes rolled back as he began to squeeze his cock tighter. “Fuck baby girl, I want you so goddamn bad.” 

He repositioned the camera so you could see his hand fisting his cock and your mouth watered at how delicious it looked. His cock was slender and long with a rosy pink tip. You imagined how good it would feel to lap up all of the precum that currently coated it and let out a whimper.

 You moved your camera so it was propped up against the pillows and slid off your shorts and panties. You could hear him let out a soft groan as you ran your fingers over your dripping cunt. You pushed a finger in while your thumb ran over your clit. You dragged your finger around the plush walls of your pussy before pulling out and thrusting back in. You moaned, wishing you were being slammed on his long fingers instead but knowing he was getting off to you had you want to perform a good show for him.

Tsukishima let out heavy, uneven breaths as he watched you play with yourself. He could see you creaming all over your fingers and it dripping down your thighs. He gripped his cock tighter and ran a finger over the slit on top, thinking of how you would leave soft licks on his tip when he had you on your knees. 

“Kei, god it feels so fucking good…” your voice moaned through his earbuds. He watched how you slid another finger into your pussy, and the sounds of your arousal only made his cock grow harder.

“That’s it baby doll, fuck...fuck yourself on your fingers. Be a good girl for me and show me how, fuck, how you cum around those fingers.” Tsukishima groaned, louder than he hoped, but he didn’t care. All that mattered was your moans, your body writhing in pleasure because you belonged to him. He could see you were getting close and he could feel his balls tighten. He knew he wouldn’t last much longer.

“Kei! Fuck, I want to cum for you. Let me cum for you, please daddy.”, you cried, and he could hear the desperation in your voice.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck baby doll. Cum for daddy.” Tsukishima groaned as his hot cum splattered, covering his abs and his fingers. He slowly loosened his grip and gave a couple more tugs to his cock as it shot smaller drops of cum. He watched as you came down from your high and he had the strongest urge to hold you in his arms as you rode out your climax.

You panted as you pulled your soaked fingers out of your cunt slowly. As he watched, you slipped your fingers into your mouth to lick off your juices. 

“Good girl.” Kei whispered, clearly spent but still in control.

You released your fingers with a small pop and pulled your phone close so now your face filled the screen, 

“I guess I can let you go to sleep now, baby!”, you giggled, as your drowsiness began to envelop you.

“Such a brat.”, Tsukishima teased, before rolling over to take off his glasses. He could hear your soft breaths even out and saw your eyes close. He smiled and took a quick screenshot of your sleeping face.

“I love you. I can’t wait to be home, Y/N.”

[tiramisiyu]

【未定事件簿】 Tears of Themis: Main Story 7-30 Translation

Translation Masterlist | Video

Chapter 7 – Rains of Monte Cristo: 7-1 / 7-3 / 7-5 / 7-7 / 7-9 / 7-11 / 7-13 / 7-15 / 7-17 / 7-19  ♦️ ♦️  7-20 / 7-22 / 7-24 / 7-26 / 7-28 / 7-30 / 7-32 / 7-34 / 7-35

Content Warning: This section contains topics that may be uncomfortable to some readers (mentions of abuse). Please proceed with discretion.

✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼

NXX Base

After deciding on what to do, Marius and I rushed to the base.

Marius: Just import the surveillance footage and Hang Jiahe’s photos into the system.

MC: Okay.

I followed Marius’ instructions, entering the necessary information into the computer and started the program. On the common screen, large amounts of data started to move again. Fluorescent blue lights flashed past, casting a mottled light. Ten minutes later, the data search and comparison stopped, and the final comparative results displayed itself.

MC: Based on the results, the “Qi Yu” who started to appear at 9pm was indeed Hang Jiahe. Plus, she appeared in the surveillance 6 times in total.

Marius: Three of those times were to enter the apartment – 12pm, 8pm, and 9:45pm individually.

Marius: The other three times were to exit the apartment – 7pm, 9pm, and 10:15pm individually.

I carefully looked over the brown silhouette that appeared in the screenshots and confirmed her identity.

MC: That’s got to be Hang Jiahe.

MC: The figure that appeared at 8pm and 10:15pm is wearing the same brown trench coat as the one I saw at Hang Jiahe’s house.

MC: She even rolled up that stack of dry-cleaned clothes she’d brought back, like she didn’t want us to see.

Marius: So we can figure out what Hang Jiahe’s trail of actions were on January 28th.

Marius grabbed a random sheet of paper and started to write as he spoke.

Marius: First, Hang Jiahe returned to the apartment at 12pm. After confirming that Hang Fei and Qi Yu were home…

Marius: She entered Room 1001 using the safety route near its door and murdered the two victims.

MC: At 7pm, Hang Jiahe left the apartment and headed to the suburban villa. After, she disguised herself…

MC: And secretly re-entered Room 1001 at 8pm.

Marius: At 9pm, she disguised herself as Qi Yu, and asked the security guard downstairs to help her move the two suitcases with the bodies in them.

Marius: At 9:45pm, she carried the empty suitcases back to the apartment. The bodies probably were placed elsewhere by then.

Marius: So she had completed the illusion that “Qi Yu was still alive at 10pm”, and her alibi with it.

MC: As for her leaving at 10:15 in disguise, she probably went to dispose of the corpses and then returned to the suburban villa.

Marius: Probably.

Marius: After disposing of them, Hang Jiahe also buried the swapped hammer that she’d long prepared with them.

MC: Then Hang Fei and Qi Yu last appeared at…

I looked at the surveillance footage.

MC: 12:30pm on the 28th. Hang Jiahe had not left the apartment yet.

At this point, we had completely figured out the process of Hang Fei and Qi Yu’s murder case.

Marius: But is the evidence we have now insufficient?

MC: Yes, though the logic’s sound…

MC: We lack objective core evidence to accuse Hang Jiahe with, especially her motive and murder weapon.

MC: The opposition will easily refute a few photos and some inferences.

Marius: …It won’t be easy to solve the murder weapon issue. Hang Jiahe always wears gloves, so she wouldn’t have left fingerprints.

Marius: But for the motive… let’s wait for Captain Morgan’s analysis results on that hard drive.

Marius: If it’s as the bar boss said…

Marius had just spoken when his phone rang.

Marius: Speak of the devil – see, Captain Morgan’s calling.

Marius: Captain Morgan, is anything the matter?

Darius Morgan: We’re finished analyzing the photos and hard drive you gave us.

Marius: What are the results?

Darius Morgan: They match with what the bar boss said.

Darius Morgan: There are many videos of Hang Fei’s child abuse, as well as domestic violence against Qi Yu, in the hard drive.

Darius Morgan: But based on the people featured in the photos, we are missing the videos that feature the child that appeared the most.

MC: (Hang Jiahe must have bought the videos of her abuse…)

Marius: Have the identities of the other children in the photos been confirmed?

Darius Morgan: Aside from Hang Jiahe, the children in the photos are not from Stellis.

Darius Morgan: Hang Fei and Qi Yu traveled overseas, so these children just might be from those countries.

MC: (It’s a transnational case now?)

Darius Morgan: How are things on your end?

MC: We’ve figured out how Hang Jiahe got the fingerprints on the murder weapon and how she created her alibi, but…

Marius: We lack direct evidence.

Darius Morgan: What about the video she took away? That evidence should be convincing enough.

Marius: But the question is, where is that video right now?

MC: The boss said before that he advised Hang Jiahe to not destroy those videos for now…

MC: Undestroyed… but can’t be found by the police…

MC: Can’t be found… so they should be hidden… hidden…

I had a flash of inspiration.

MC: “Liqing Bank”!

I thought of that useless-looking membership card in Hang Jiahe’s house.

Both Darius and us headed out at the same time towards the Liqing Bank in the suburbs, but due to distance, we arrived before Yan Wei. Marius used his own connections to find the manager to ask about Hang Jiahe. The manager admitted that Hang Jiahe had opened an account here and kept things here, but he refused to tell us which was her vault.

Vault Room

Manager: My apologies, but our rules state that unless if our client asks or the police issue a search warrant…

Manager: We cannot allow any others to open the safes.

MC: This…

Marius: We were just in contact with the police in front of you, and he said that he would be bringing a search warrant over immediately.

Marius: Even with that, you can’t let us see Hang Jiahe’s vault?

Manager: My apologies, but we must see the documents first, per our rules.

Marius: …

The male manager looked calmly at Marius.

MC: Then we…

I was about to speak when Marius tugged at me.

Marius: If so, we won’t trouble you anymore. When the police arrive, we’ll come again.

Marius then tugged me to leave, walking out without looking back once. However, we’d just turned past aa row of shelves when he suddenly tightened his grasp on my wrist and took me into the shadows of another row of cabinets.

MC: Marius, what are you doing?!

Marius: Shh, quieter. Don’t let the manager know that we haven’t left.

I took a deep breath and lowered my voice.

MC: What are you trying to do?

Marius: Of course, I’m trying to find Hang Jiahe’s vault.

Marius: Since he won’t show us openly, we can only wait for it in secret.

MC: Are you aiming to open the vault secretly?

Marius: Of course not. Opening vaults in banks like this is usually a complicated procedure.

Marius: Some need two keys, some need biological info… all in all, without the owner, they’re very hard to open.

MC: Then you want to…

Marius: I want to follow the vault.

MC: ???

Marius: Based on how this bank’s operating guidelines, that manager is sure to contact Hang Jiahe that people came for her box.

Marius: And with how cautious Hang Jiahe is, she’s sure to come get what’s in the vault herself.

Marius: I’ve calculated the timing – Hang Jiahe’s place is closer to here than the police station is. Even if she receives the alert and heads out only now…

Marius: She might get here earlier than Captain Morgan.

Marius: To prevent the evidence from getting taken, I decided…

Marius took out his phone and opened up the screen for Darius’ shared location.

Marius: Before Captain Morgan comes, we’ll follow the manager secretly and prevent him from taking Hang Jiahe’s box away.

MC: Can we really?

Marius: Of course, why not? Nothing will happen.

Marius: Jiejie, just trust me this once. If anything happens, I’ll just apologize to them.

MC: Then… alright. If anything does happen, I’ll go with you.

MC: What do you plan to do?

Marius: Look around first.

I looked around, per his instructions. Liqing Bank’s vault room was very large, and there were many vaults in it. Above the room, at set intervals, there was a full-scene camera rotating nonstop to monitor the whole room. Aside from that, there were also bodyguards on patrol in the vault room to prevent suspicious persons from moving about.

MC: There are a lot of bodyguards and surveillance cameras. How are we supposed to follow him?

Marius: Don’t worry, just listen to me.

Marius: I just observed that the patrolling bodyguards will pass by the same place around every 5 minutes.

Marius: As for the full-scene cameras above, I can’t tell if there are any blind spots for now.

Marius: But we’re luckily wearing dark clothes today, and it’s dark here.

Marius: We’ll just stick to the walls where the light doesn’t reach – maybe we’ll get by.

MC: Why do I feel like we’re acting in a spy movie…

MC: Then how should we move? We’re pretty far from the manager right now…

Marius: See that old table in front?

Marius pointed at a table that was around several tens of metres away from us and stacked with random items.

Marius: That table’s in a pretty subtle spot. People outside can’t see in, but we should be able to see out from inside.

Marius: When the nearby guards move away, we’ll head under that table.

Marius: On my count – when I say 1, we’ll move.

MC: Okay.

I took a deep breath, focusing my attention on the table.

Marius: The guard’s almost about to leave.

Marius: 3 – 2 – 1, go!

I held my breath and rushed to the corner.

MC: Huff – huff –

I supported myself against the table, suppressing my sounds as I gasped.

Marius: A-are you alright?

Marius’ breath was also somewhat short, probably thanks to our nervous moods.

MC: I’m alright. You?

I turned around to look at Marius, but the scene before me stole my breath away in the next second.

Marius was awkwardly crouching under the table, and the height that he was usually so proud of had become a sort of sweet “burden”. Maybe because the air circulation was bad, or maybe because the crouching pose was tiring him, but his face was somewhat red. Under his opened collar, there were small drops of sweat rolling down his fair neck. He breathed lightly, and each of his movements and breathing sounds became unusually heavy in this tiny space.

MC: …

Marius: Hm? What are you looking at me for? Is there something on my face?

MC: T-there isn’t…

Marius: Then… did you get fazed from staring at me?

Marius: Though I do like it when you stare at me, since we’re this close…

Marius: Even I’d get embarrassed.

MC: This close…

MC: !!!

My rationality returned, and I belatedly realized just close we were.  

MC: S-sorry, it wasn’t on purpose, I was just…

I apologized as I attempted to pull away from him, but I hadn’t moved much when Marius suddenly pulled me back.

Marius: Don’t move. If you keep pushing, you’ll bump into the table.

Marius: This space is tiny – best not to move at random.

MC: …

I could only stiffen my body and not move in the slightest. The tiny space sunk into silence again, and I could clearly feel Marius’ gaze on me, never shifting away. And my heartbeat became more and more intense, along with this gaze.

MC: W-why do you keep staring at me…

Marius: I’m just thinking that right now…

Marius: Your heartbeat and your breaths only belong to me.

Marius: It’s great…

MC: …

Marius: But this is too little. It’s not enough compared to what I want…

MC: !!!

MC: M-Marius, you…

Marius: Oh well, now isn’t the time.

Marius sighed quietly and shifted his gaze away.

I tried my best to calm my heartbeat and refocus my attention. Simultaneously, the manager, who’d been lingering in some shelf row for a while, finally moved.

Manager: Hello, Liqing Bank. Is this Miss Hang?

Marius and I exchanged a glance.

Manager: Two people just came to see the contents of your vault.

Manager: Yes, a man and a woman, and the woman was a lawyer.

Manager: Don’t worry, I did not allow them to open your vault.

Manager: You want me to take a video for your confirmation?

The male manager spoke as he strode to a shelf in the corner, then used his phone to take a photo.

Manager: Look, it’s been well taken care of – no one has opened it.

Manager: Alright, I will send it to the back door for you.

The manager hung up and pressed a button on the side of the safe. After a small electronic startup sound, Hang Jiahe’s vault suddenly disappeared. The manager walked to an elevator on the side.

MC: Where’s the vault?

When the manager had completely left on the elevator, Marius and I carefully got near the vault shelf.

Marius: Don’t worry, it’s been sent elsewhere – should be the back door.

Marius: Let’s follow.

MC: Sure.

Following behind the manager, we boarded the other elevator beside the vault shelf.

✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼

MC: How did we end up in another warehouse?

Marius: …

Marius: Follow the manager first. If anything else unexpected happens, we withdraw immediately.

MC: Okay.

✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼

Marius: Where’s the manager?

MC: In front!

MC: We’ve already been following him for over half an hour…

Marius: Is the back door of Liqing Bank that far? We’ve got to get through a warehouse and then a basement…

MC: Marius, could he be leading us in circles?

Marius: …

Marius: … But Captain Morgan’s almost here, and Hang Jiahe’s been held back by him too.

Marius: We can’t just give up here.

MC: Then let’s keep following. If things don’t change, we’ll give up.  

Marius: Okay.

✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼

The manager finally stopped at the back door of the bank warehouse.

MC: Why isn’t he walking anymore?

Marius: …

Marius: This is bad, let’s go back…

Manager: The two of you, stop hiding. Come out.

MC: …

Marius: …

We could only walk up to the manager.

Manager: CEO von Hagen, what are you trying to do here?

Marius: Didn’t I tell you my request before?

Manager: Then I’ll have to reject you once more. No…

Marius: Wait.

Marius looked behind the manager and suddenly laughed.

Marius: This time, you can’t refuse.

Manager: Wh…

Darius Morgan: City Criminal Investigation Police Brigade, Captain Darius Morgan. Please cooperate with our investigation.

Darius Morgan: This is the search warrant.

[dearingbooks]

The Difference one Woman can make.

Late Friday night in June, we had stopped for a burger on the way to the cinema, we used to do family movie nights at the cinema when a new film came out that the majority of us wanted to watch, this time I was the one who was reluctant to go, sadly we do this significantly less now.  So, stubborn 2015 me, rolling her eyes and dragging her feet up the cinema steps to find our seats to watch the new Jurassic World movie. Pathetic! I thought, why pay money to watch a movie about a dinosaur theme park! My parents had completely lost it! Huffing and puffing I took my seat on the aisle and sipped my blue raspberry slushie and looked up at the big screen. Ugh! I wanted it to be over, quickly. I sat down and shut my mouth, despite not wanting to watch it, I wasn’t going to spoil it for the others; but I didn’t get why they would want to watch it, I watched the trailer before going, was not impressed, it looked dumb!

However, as much as my pre-Jurassic self would not like, I found who I was during that movie, I discovered a whole new admiration for actors and movies. I found that I related to the main female protagonist, Claire Dearing. She did not need a man, or children, she was so focused on her career and let no one boss her around. She was top dog, and I completely fell for this fictional character. I evolved through that movie with her character, I felt content with being a strong female who put career over family. I wanted to embody this fictional woman; I wanted to be her.

On the journey home I typed ‘Claire Dearing actress’ into google and saw this stunning redhead- Bryce Dallas Howard. I immediately recognised her from movies I had watched prior, and I was completely astounded at her range of characters she can portray and portray them well. After scrolling through her Wiki page and reading news articles about her, I learned that she is the daughter of Ron Howard, one of my parents’ favourite people in film.

“Dad, that woman in the movie is Ron Howard's daughter”, I needed to inform my family that my now favourite woman in film is the daughter of my parents’ favourite people in film. My parents were shocked that I enjoyed the movie despite my loud vocalisation of not wanting to watch it.

Googling ‘Bryce Dallas Howard’ became my new after school routine, learning that she applied to acting school as Bryce Dallas to avoid people knowing she is the daughter of an already famous actor and director, and she had met her true love at nineteen and is still happily married to him. Yet what most stuck out to the self-conscious, body hating 2015 me, was that Bryce wasn’t a skinny twig of a woman that you see in most movies, she had classy curves and promoted body positivity despite some backlash the media gave her. I made a connection with this woman I had never met because I too received negative comments about my figure, yet Bryce took that on the shoulder and learned to love herself. I wanted to feel that self-love about myself that she acquired.

After watching Jurassic World, I explored many more fandoms, and from there I became obsessed with movie franchises and TV shows, actors and directors. I could not give you a full list of all of the fandoms I am in, there are too many to count, and they have all played a role in helping me evolve to who I am today. All because I latched onto one character from one movie I did not even want to watch, one film got me hooked on this life: it’s like a drug. I cannot stop. I also went back and forth with my hairstyle due to this woman; in the movie Bryce has a stunning ginger graduated bob with a fringe, however I never had the guts to go ginger until now; shame the hairdressers are all shut.

Now, almost six years later Bryce Dallas Howard has had great success in directing two episodes of The Mandalorian. Over the Christmas break I watched the show with my dad, sat on the sofa, fire lit, the chocolate Labrador curled up between us, peach vodka and diet lemonade in my hand, hot cup of tea in my dad’s. We binge watched both seasons in a week (it’s amazing) and he was shocked to see ‘Directed by Bryce Dallas Howard’ at the end of one, let alone two episodes. “Shit, she’s come far in the past few years” he said putting another episode on.

Bryce allowed me to find my best friend, Iz, through Instagram; Bryce has brought so many people together it is so surreal. And when I found out that Iz was going to Southampton University in 2019, a 20-minute drive from my house, I was finally able to meet her, because of one woman we both adore. I was friends with Iz for three years before I was able to meet her, I asked my school friend to come along with me so she could film the moment Iz, and I met! We got pancakes and watched the second Maleficent movie at the cinema, it was one of the best days of my life. I was so thankful that I met a truly hilarious and loving girl through this one actress! Because of Bryce Dallas Howard, I have made so many other friends from all over the globe as they too idolise Bryce and together we have created the ‘BDH online family’. A small group of us do regular zoom calls to catch up and chat about the recent photos and updates that Bryce has posted on Instagram, talk about Covid-19 and the types of restrictions and lockdown rules each of our countries has. During one of our calls, we had the craziest idea- Invite Bryce to one of our zoom calls. Bryce said yes! And after a few months of organisation, we had the date. The date was-

My.

Birthday.

The day came around and I was so nervous, it was 11pm exactly. The Wi-Fi had cut out fifteen minutes before the call. I was in tears. Mascara down my face, puffy eyes, I joined the call with a few minutes to spare before Bryce joined it. My mum hung around off camera for the first 5 minutes to double check the Wi-Fi was stable, luckily it stabilised. The other girls had never been so glad to see me, everyone was panicked for me; I could not miss it for the world (despite telling my parents, in floods of tears, that I cannot join and that it’s the end of that).

“Kat! You’re here!” “Happy birthday!” “Are you okay? The Wi-Fi sorted?”

They all chimed, happy to see my little face in the bottom right corner of their computer screens. Luckily Iz was there, otherwise it would have been extremely awkward with only one of us since we are known as a duo in the online family, we have to do everything together, we come in a pair and there can’t just be one of us.

“Shit girls, that was stressful”

I hadn’t realised I was holding my breath until I exhaled the large breath when my    Wi-Fi settled, and I was on the call, I fixed my makeup and was ready to meet Bryce.

The few minutes we had before Bryce joined were intense, two of the girls left to get a drink and we weren’t sure if they would be back in time, luckily they did return.

“No way!” One of them, Anna who was hosting the call, gasped “Bryce is in the waiting room!”

We all freak for no more than 10 seconds, we compose ourselves then our faces are reshuffled, and we see this stunning glowing face that we all admire smiling at us. Omg, it's her.

“Hi girls!”

I have never smiled for so long in my entire life, my cheeks hurt afterwards. Don’t get me wrong, I am not complaining at all, it just hurt as I thought I would only be smiling for half an hour, since that is how long we were told Bryce had. However, we were speaking to Bryce for nearly an hour and a half, she just kept talking and asked us questions! She was so lovely to talk to, so relaxed; it was if I was talking to a friend that I had known for years!

“Before we go I want to all sing Kat a happy birthday!”

My idol wanted to sing me a happy birthday! The other girls were really ecstatic for me, I still can’t believe to this day that The Bryce Dallas Howard wanted to sing to me!

It was both the best and the worst happy birthday song that has be sung to me. It was the best because, well my idol was singing to me! And proposed the singing! It was the worst in terms of the actual song as they were all out of sync and lagging, it was bloody hilarious!

At 10:27pm the next evening, watching a rerun of Game of Thrones on Sky, I got a notification ‘Brycedhoward just posted’, I clicked the notification then see our smiling faces on her page, she posted a screenshot of our call on her social media! The call was supposed to be a secret so other fans weren’t upset. There’s a few snotty comments on the post, but they’re just jealous and to be frank, I don’t care! My smiley face is on her page forever! All ten of us have printed the screenshot of Bryce’s post off and put it in a frame, one day all ten of us hope to congregate somewhere, most likely in America, and sign the backs of all of our photos. I’m still in utter awe and shock-  How many celebrities have you seen that would do a free zoom call with some fans? Not a lot, and that amount is even slimmer when they talk for an extra hour than scheduled. Bryce truly is one of a kind and the best idol anyone could ever hope to have.

Compared to a zoom call with Bryce herself, the few times she has liked my comments on her posts feel like nothing in comparison! I remember being so excited, running downstairs to my parents.

“Mum! Dad! Bryce liked my comment! She knows I exist!”

“Was it actually her? Remember when you got a Facebook request from Robert Downey Jr and it turned out it was a fake account?”

I rolled my eyes at her, it was Bryce, it was her verified account. The comment was a book recommendation I had for her, she posted on her hashtag BDHbookshelf and I thought I’d take a chance and comment a book recommendation I had for her, and the chance paid off.

I cannot wait to see what the future holds with Bryce, she has been such an inspiration to me for the past few years, and she promotes such wonderful causes and body positivity! I hope to one day meet her and thank her in person for changing my life for the better, and I think I’ve come up with the perfect opportunity to meet her- Iz and I have decided to travel up to London for the Jurassic World Dominion premiere in 2022 (if Covid lets us!), we’d get a hotel and actually meet Bryce in person, as well as meeting other members of the online family!

Words cannot fully contain the admiration that I possess for Bryce, her soul is utterly and truly exquisite, she has been such a visionary while I’ve been transitioning from a girl who had no idea who she was with no dreams or aspirations, to a woman who has now found so many new friends and now knows who she wants to be.  

[fearfulkittenwrites]

Zukka Youtuber AU (pt 1)

Youtuber au inspired by @ratatosk-express – Link to the post (https://ratatosk-express.tumblr.com/post/622032956613115904/okay-so-idk-if-youtuber-aus-are-still-a-thing)

Sokka has a channel dedicating to his inventions and other projects, but his live streams are particularly famous for the amazing stories he tell.

Basically everything is the same, except it’s in a modern setting and Sokka is relatively internet famous.

** Hey, just a little heads up, I change some things from the original post, I hope it’s not a problem! **

Sokka tells his audience a lot of stories during his streams. Most of them are from his journey with the avatar, although he occasionally talks about his childhood in the Southern Water Tribe. Many of his fans watch these streams because of them, even if the overwhelming majority believes them to be fake. After he came back and decided to expand his content, Sokka found out he is particularly good at storytelling, and it granted him an audience that didn’t even followed his main channel but appreciated the contents of his lives.

He got annoyed sometimes when he recieved comments that treated his life experiences as a fantasy. His biggest mistake was sharing Yue’s story with his fans; all of the teasing and ‘yeah right’ comments really got to him, but there wasn’t much to be done. It was quite a surreal story, and if they wouldn’t believe him there wasn’t much he could do to prove it. Too many people have already forgotten the old spirits of the moon and the ocean and how crucial they are to water benders, so if they didn’t believe that, they wouldn’t believe Yue’s sacrifice.

They did believe his stories about the Kyoshi Warriors. After all that happened the girls became quite famous, and even if they thought the details were too exagerated and fake (I mean, the avatar was there? And he dated one of the warriors? Please.), it wasn’t impossible, that’s for sure. I mean, he did talk about attending formal events with his boyfriend, so, yeah, why not? The Kyoshi Warriors attend those too, don’t they?

Speaking of his boyfriend, he told them little about him. His audience knew he existed, but he was never seen on camera and there were many stories or commentaries involving him, but he never went too deep into it. When asked about it, he told them his significant other was a private guy, and he himself didn’t feel like there was a huge need to share their romantic lives online. Most people were pretty respectful from that point onwardars, although there are always some exceptions.

More often than not, his quick comments about his daily life involved him, and everyone though they were super sweet, although most of them gave his audience the impression that he was dating a very socially awkward and overly emotional man. They weren’t exactly wrong, they just didn’t have the whole truth; still they always asked Sokka to see them at least once during his lives. One of the most know and loved stories about him had been told in a stream as he built a new house for the turtle ducks’ lake. The last one was getting too old, and he had nothing else to do with his time.

“Hey, did I ever tell you guys about the time my boyfriend brought like, eight little turtle ducks home?”

The comment section was filled with negative responses, although some were very panicked.

“Yeah, it’s true. Happened about two weeks after I moved in. They were all babies and their mom got hit by a car? Some jerk was probably speeding and the poor creature died, leaving her children behind. He brought them here because they were too young and he was afraid they’d die if left alone.”

Many comments were praising him for the action, and some were worried about what happened to the little creatures.

“It was kinda of cute but I got a little freaked out about where to put them. Then he told me we have a pond? I swear, this place is so big I could die from starvation after getting lost on my way to the kitchen.”

He laughed. Once again, a lot of comments talking about how full of shit he was flooded the chat.

“I’m serious guys. I’d rather bring him to my tribe, but that’s really not an option, unfortunatly. So I moved here, and I think I only know about 30% of this building even after being here for like, almost a year.”

Someone told him to write a map.

“Hah, yeah, I should probably do that.” He smiled. “Actually, that reminds me of that time me and my friends got stuck in a cave with a bunch of crazy hippies while trying to get to Omashu. We were looking for an earth bending master for Aang. It was wild, the tunnels kept moving so I couldn’t keep a map of the labyrinth, and a badger mole almost ate me.”

The comment section went wild again. Some people were excited because he was finally telling a story, some people were calling bullshit on the moving tunnels... It was chaotic, and Sokka loved that. He was pretty chaotic himself, so this crazy comment section always amused him.

Sokka didn’t care that his stories weren’t believed. He understood that his situation was... unusual. Besides, many stories he told were of public knowledge already, he just set the record straight for most of them, adding unknow details or straight up correcting lies. There was only one thing he couldn’t stand being questioned on; his skills. When he mentioned he once built an armor for Aang’s sky bison, he wasn’t mad when they laughed at the idea that he was the avatar’s friend, no, he was mad when someone commented that he was lying about knowing how to build an armor. After that, he put out a series of videos on his channel in which he forged an armor for himself from scratch, even if he knew he’d never use it (And every single one of them started with a screenshot from said comment).

So his irritation at this moment really shouldn’t be a surprise. After showing off the sword he made for his channel, he told his audience about how he learned all he knew in the art of the sword from Piandao, who told him he had great potential to surpass even him. Of course, the comment section laughed again.

“It’s true!” He exclaimed, exasperated “Why would I lie about something like that? Okay, I see why I would lie about something like that, but really, I’m not lying. I swear!”

The comments still went on.

“Okay, you know what? I’ll prove it.” He got up and moved some furniture around to open enough space for a duel “HEY JERKBENDER,” He yelled from his door “GET IN HERE! AND BRING YOUR SWORDS!”

The audience heard a voice.

“What is it, Sokka? Did something happen?”

“No babe,” They heard Sokka answer, with a much softer tone this time, before planting a kiss to the other’s face “My viewers think I’m lying about being a swordsman, so I need to prove myself.”

“Really?” They heard an unimpressed voice.

“Hey, you’re all about honor, aren’t you? Help me defend mine for once.” Sokka apeared in the picture again, smiling, followed by Zuko, as in the Firelord Zuko. Many jaws were dropped.

“Fine, but I won’t make this easy.” He swung his dual swords.

“Me neither.”

They attacked each other for some time, occasionally getting out of the frame before jumping back in. Sokka eventually tossed an used shirt at Zuko’s face to throw him off. It made him confused, but he didn’t give up so easily.

“Unfair!” He exclaimed, getting up and defending himself from another one of Sokka’s attack “I’ll fire bend if you keep this up.”

“You’re getting me a replacement for anything you burn!” Sokka complained, jumping on his bed for leverage, but Zuko kicked it and he fell with an emasculating yelp. The fire bender had the upper hand now, but Sokka was quick to get up.

Eventually, Sokka managed to disarm Zuko, and used the tip of his sword to lift his chin up.

“You really ought to practice more with the swords.” He said, a smug smile on his face.

“Shut up, you dork.” Zuko answered, a little frustrated from the loss, but mostly proud of his boyfriend’s mastery.

He walked up to his boyfriend, replacing the blade with his fingers.

“Thanks baby. You’re the best.” He leaned in and softly kissed him. Once he tried to step back, he felt Zuko gripping him by the waist, holding him and deepening their kiss.

“I miss you. We barely had any time together this week.” Zuko complained “Go by my room when you’re done, okay?”

“Sure babe.” Sokka smiled, still being held by Zuko “Wait, why don’t you say hello, then I end the transmisson, huh? They’ve been wanting to see you for a while.”

“Really?” Zuko asked, a little amazed and curious.

“Yeah! I think they fell in love with you after I told them about the turtle ducks. But, honestly, who wouldn’t.” Sokka smiled and guided him to the camera “See guys, I told you I’m a...” He turned his face to the screen again “Oh.”

“Oh.” Zuko mimicked, watching as the comments rolled in faster than he could read, all of them some sort of variation of ‘Is that the fucking Firelord?’.

“I-I...” Sokka stuttered “I mean, I’m pretty sure I mentioned his name.”

A comment said ‘Yeah but there are many Zukos in the world’.

“It’s not my fault you don’t believe my stories! I told you I travelled with the avatar, the same avatar who is friends with the Firelord, who happens to be my boyfriend. I thought it was kinda obvious.”

‘Wait’ Said another comment ‘SO IT’S ALL TRUE???’.

“What do you mean it’s all- Yes it’s all true. Of course it is.” He looked at the comments flooding in and sighed. “Y’know what? I’ll deal with this tomorrow. I love you guys, but I’m a little too tired to do this now. Byeeee!”

With that, he turned the stream off. Zuko had an amused smile on his face.

“What?” Sokka asked.

“Nothing.” He answered “I’m just... I don’t know, when you said they wanted to see me I thought it was because I’m the Firelord and all. But... They didn’t know. They wanted to see me from the dumb stories you tell them about me.” Zuko smiled at the ground “You must’ve painted me in a very kind light, love.”

“I mean... There’s no way I can paint you in a bad light, really.” Sokka placed his hands in Zuko’s waist “You know that, don’t you?” Zuko kept his gaze fixated on the ground “Zuko, baby, you’re a great, kind, brave man. And I’m madly in love with you because of it.”

“I love you too Sokka.” Zuko smiled, but still couldn’t bring himself to look at Sokka. After some time together, Sokka figured it was best to just let him look at wherever, if it made him comfortable. He already had to sustain too much eye contact as fire lord, so when he was in his arms, Sokka just wanted the man to be at ease. Even if that meant he wouldn’t always look him in the eye.

“C’mon,” He squeezed his sides slightly “Take me to your room, my lord, because mine is too messy for the cuddles you deserve.” Sokka teased, getting a small chucke from Zuko as he turned to walk out of his boyfriend’s chaotic room.

“It is impressive how messy your room is, considering our maids clean it everyday.”

“What can I say? It’s one of my many talents.”

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

I know that originally Zuko’s supposed to win, but like... In my mind, after all that happened, their skills were pretty much on the same level, and considering that Sokka would have more free time to practice than the Firelord would, well... I think his victory is not all that surprising plus i think his smug smile directed at zuko would be so cute and make him melt af

[nova-shadowtail]

The World Burns And Someone Gets Hurt (A Mystic Messenger Fic)

I know this isn’t marvel and that’s what i mainly do on this account but i got inspiration from 2 songs and had to write this. Stuff might be off because I only know what I’ve read online cause I haven’t done every route and stuff might be ooc but oH WELL

These are the songs I was inspired by:

https://youtu.be/3rU2Xf1LK-g

https://youtu.be/7hBy11aK-qw

I used the song lyrics for the dialogue I’m sorry (I also changed some lyrics to better fit this)

I also feel the need to put a trigger warning because this is DARK AF AND THERE’S A LOT OF DEATH I’M SORRY

Rika leaned on the desk as she glared at herself in the mirror. She hated MC. Hated how she took over her position. Hated how she stole V from her. Hated how everyone suddenly loved MC and no one ever paid any attention to her anymore.

“My name is Rika Kim,” She spoke to herself, “And I am a massive deal.”

She looked across her desk at all the destroyed pictures of MC. Some had been ripped so much you couldn’t tell what the picture originally looked like. Some were just ripped in half. Some of them she had written all over with a marker.

She picked up one of the only photos that weren’t ruined and held it up. I was a picture of you and everyone in the RFA, excluding Rika, at a restaurant smiling and laughing. You were holding the camera but you weren’t looking at it. Instead you were looking towards V, who was spreading frosting on Jumin’s face. You had pure love in your eyes and Rika hated it.

“I will grind you to sand beneath my Louboutin heel,” She said, taking her other hand and ripping the photo in half.

Rika turned around and looked at the walls. All were covered in more ruined pictures of you. Words were written everywhere. “Husband stealer” “Liar” “Demon” “Ugly bitch” “Slut” “Stupid” and many more.

“This is what I get for helping,” Rika glared at the picture she just tore up and dropped it, watching it fall onto the floor, “Helping someone worthless fit in”

She walked across the apartment. More pictures were pasted all over the walls, “MC, enjoy your temporary win.”

She picked up her phone and opened the RFA app, no one knew she still had it, or that she could get in. She had found a way to hack it so she could watch the chatrooms without it saying she was in them. So she watched as you, V, and Jaehee chatted. Rika swore and closed the app. 

She had to ruin you. Force you out of the RFA. Make them all hate you. She had to torture you. But how? She glanced back at the app and got an idea.

“My name is Rika Kim,”  She said, opening an editing app and getting to work.

She took a screenshot of a conversation and edited it to make it look like you were talking shit about everyone else.

“Saeran is an evil bitch,” She said, writing “I’m so terrified of him. He always has a murderous look in his eye and I’m just waiting for the day he’s going to snap and kill one of us.” on one of your text bubbles.

She smiled as she kept editing, “Hey MC, how do you like me now?”

After a few hours of perfecting everything, she quickly saved them to her phone and opened messages. She decided against sending the screenshots in the app because no one knew she still had it. So instead she sent them anonymously.

“I wanna watch the world burn,” She sent Saerans, “I got the gasoline,” She sent Saeyoungs.

“I wanna watch the world burn,” She sent Zens, “And everyone gets mean,” She sent Jumins and Jaehees.

She quickly sent Yoosungs and Vs, not even hesitating even though she knew it would hurt them. She sat back and watched as they all responded, everyone, asked who you were. You couldn’t give that away though, so you just sent them all the screenshots and waited. After they all saw every screenshot, they stopped responding.

“MC, time to watch your back,” A new chatroom opened, “MC, time to turn and cough.”

The chatroom was titled: How could you do this? Rika beamed when she opened it and watched everyone start screaming at you. They were all really hurt, some even said they were heartbroken or crying, but she couldn’t care less.

“You took me down, but you didn’t finish me off.”

Zen has entered the chatroom

Jumin has entered the chatroom

707 has entered the chatroom

Saeran has entered the chatroom

Jaehee has entered the chatroom

Yoosung has entered the chatroom

V has entered the chatroom

Zen: IS THIS REAL

Yoosung: Looks like it

Jaehee: Why would she say that about us….MC, did you really say these things?

Zen: Of course she did! They’re screenshots!

Jumin: I agree with Zen. It seems she did indeed say these things.

707: Who was she even talking to?

Yoosung: They should’ve told us as soon as she said something bad about us.

MC has entered the chatroom

MC: What’s going on? Why is everyone here?

Jumin: Why would you say that about us?

707: We trusted you, MC. How could you?

Zen: What did we ever do to you?

MC: What are you guys talking about?

Jaehee: “Where do I start with her? Her whole personality is just work. All she does is follow Jumin around and do whatever he wants. She’s like his servant.”

Zen: “He’s such a narcissist. The only reason he’s in the position he is now is because of his good looks and he knows it. He always brags about it.”

Yoosung: “He’s just a child. A stupid child. All he does is sit around and play games all day. He shouldn’t even be in the RFA”

707: “He’s not even that great. Everyone acts like he’s such a hero and a genius because he’s a hacker but he’s actually really stupid. Not to mention he’s not even funny.”

Jumin: “He’s just a heartless, wealthy, billionaire who doesn’t care about anyone other than himself”

Saeran: “I’m so terrified of him. He always has a murderous look in his eye and I’m just waiting for the day he’s going to snap and kill one of us.”

V: “He’s just a stupid, blind, photographer. He’s not even that special. He’s the worst out of all of them.”

MC: I didn’t say those things! I would never say that about you guys. I love all of you!

Zen sent 7 images

V: There are screenshots, MC. You can’t pretend they aren’t real.

MC: They’re fake! I didn’t say those things!

Jumin: MC, I’m sorry. But I don’t believe those screenshots are fake.

MC: I would NEVER say those things about you guys because they aren’t true. You guys are my family. I would never talk shit about you guys.

707: MC…

MC: Saeyoung can check if they’re real or not. Can’t you Saeyoung?

707: I-

Saeran: Do you really think I’m evil? Are you really scared of me?

MC: Of course not, Saeran

MC: You know what? I know who’s behind this. I’ll fix this, don’t worry.

MC has left the chatroom

Rika beamed. They hated her now. She was going to be forced to leave. The conversation quickly ended and everyone left. She shut her phone off and went back to the desk. She picked up a marker and wrote MC on one side of the mirror and Rika on the other side.

“MC might have one the battle,” She put a mark under her name, “but I will win the war.”

+++

You knew Rika was behind this. You would never say those things about them and they should know that. They have no reason not to believe you. Saeyoung should’ve checked to see if they were real before accusing her.

You had to do something about this. So, you grabbed a knife, just in case, and took a cab to the one place you knew she would be.

The Mint Eye building was abandoned after Rika was sent away, but the doors were still unlocked and occasionally people snuck in so snoop around. A few weeks after everything that happened, Saeyoung and Saeran went in to clear everything classified out so no one would find it.

The cab could only go as far as the main road, so you had to walk the rest of the way. You thanked the driver and paid him before taking a deep breath and starting your walk towards the building.

The sun was setting by the time you reached the door and you didn’t hesitate to go in. You walked down a hallway and back to the main room, where the throne still sat. You weren’t surprised to see Rika sitting on the throne.

“You did this didn’t you?” You asked, glaring at her.

She didn’t look at you but she nodded, “This is just the first step in my plan.”

You scoffed, “What plan? Do you want your role as party organizer back? I would’ve given it back if you had asked.”

Rika shook her head and you rolled your eyes, “You want me to leave the RFA don’t you? You want me to leave cause you’re jealous I got close with everyone and me and V are really close now. Is that it?”

She glared at you when you mentioned V, “He isn’t yours. He’s my fiance.”

Your jaw dropped, “You’re the reason he went blind. You fucking attacked him and then stabbed him, Rika. You hurt him. He didn’t deserve that. He’s too good for you,” you practically screamed.

Rika stood up and walked towards you, “He loves me.”

“You don’t deserve him.”

“And yet he’s still mine.”

“You haven’t seen him in years, Rika. What makes you think he still loves you?”

“I know him. He still loves me.”

You rolled your eyes, “Is this really what it’s about? You’re mad cause I hang with V?”

She laughed, “Oh, it’s way bigger than that MC. You see, everything was so perfect before you came along.”

Now it was your turn to laugh, “You’re the one who brought me to your old apartment and had me join the RFA.”

“That may be true, but I expected everything to go back to normal once I returned. And it didn’t. You took everything from me. So now I have to take everything from you.”

“What do you mean?” You said.

Rika looked at you and motioned for you to follow her. You took a step forward and felt something prick your arm but you assumed it was just a bug bite and shrugged it off, continuing to follow her.

She led you to a hallway with 6 doors. She stopped at the entrance of the hallway and turned to a desk that was tucked away in the corner, “Yes I look perfect. Ice Queen that’s what you see.”

You furrowed your brows and looked around at the pictures lining the walls. The pictures of you, torn up and ruined.

“What…?” You asked, but she ignored you.

“It’s what they all expect from me. But it’s all a show.” She turned to you.

“Face it, you used me.” She spoke bitterly.

You shook your head, “I didn’t-”

“You saw the RFA, and saw a family. But did you know?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Was I a game to you?”

“Of course not-”

“Was I a way to be cool?”

No. Rika-”

“I truely cared,” She brushed passed you and admired the wall behind you, covered in your pictures.

“I know you did Rika,” You followed her and stood behind her.

“Was I the fool?” She asked, looking over her shoulder.

“No, Rika.” You said, grabbing her arm.

She shook off your grip and grabbed your wrist, leading you to the first room. She slowly opened the door, “It’s fine for you.”

You walked into the room, confused before your eyes landed upon Saeran. He was tied to a chair with a cloth around his mouth like a gag. He glared at you as soon as he saw you.

You were about to rush forward and help him or hurt Rika before she could hurt him, but as soon as the thought crossed your mind it was like a mental barrier stopping you. You felt like you didn’t have control of your body anymore and you were just watching the events through a screen.

“It’s fine to flirt,” Rika said, walking around you and picking up a glass full of blue liquid from a shelf nearby.

Your eyes widened as she came behind Saeran and took his gag off, pressing the bottle to his lips, “It’s fine….until someone gets hurt”

The blue liquid flowed into Saeran’s mouth and he shut his eyes as he drank it. Instantly choking when he swallowed it. Rika took the bottle away from his lips and you sobbed as you watched his body go limp and watched him stop breathing.

Rika looked at you with a satisfied smile and walked back towards the door. She set the glass down on the shelf and took your wrist, leading you across the hall.

You didn’t want to go in, but you knew you didn’t have a choice, “Rika don’t do this.”

She ignored you and stopped before the door, “Feel my heart beating,” She pressed your hand to her chest and you felt her heart. It wasn’t sped up with adrenaline, instead, it was calm and slow. Like this was therapeutic.

“I’m just like you,” She said and you shook your head, ripping your hand away.

“People forget I’m human too,” She said, putting her hand on the door.

“No, they don’t,” You said.

“Yes, they do.”

She pushed the door open and you both entered. Saeyoung sat in a chair tied up and gagged just like Saeran. He was staring at a screen in front of him.

You looked closer and realized it was a live feel from Saeran’s room. He had just watched you do nothing while his brother was murdered. Tears streamed down his face and you felt yourself tear up when you still couldn’t do anything to stop Rika.

This time Rika didn’t say anything as she grabbed a bottle of pills from her pocket and force Saeyoung to swallow all of them. You turned away from him and sobbed when you heard Rika set the bottle down.

She grabbed your wrist and lead you across the hall to the next door. She opened it, and you saw Zen tied up exactly the same as the other two. This time the walls were covered in writing. All hate comments and rumors about him.

“This is performance. This is all self-defense,” You saw her take out a knife. The same knife you had brought, “I thought you had the sense to see through that.”

You didn’t look away this time. You couldn’t. You looked Zen in the eye and tried to give him an apologetic look as Rika slit his throat. His body went limp and you cried as the dragged you out of the room.

“Was I too proud with you?” She asks as she opened the next room, “Was I  too cold and forbidding?”

“Please stop hurting them,” You begged.

She dragged you into the room and you saw Jumin and Jaehee tied up, right next to each other. You shook your head and looked away until you heard a gun cock.

“And you chose them over me,” She pressed the gun against Jumins temple, “Are you kidding?”

She pulled the trigger on the last word and you screamed. You kept trying to force past the barrier. To fight back and stop her before she could hurt anyone else.

She took you back out in the hallway and you stood in front of the final door. V was the final person. The final one she would hurt before she inevitably killed you. You sobbed and begged her not to do this. Not to hurt him.

“If you love him, please don’t hurt him. Please.”

She ignored you once again, opening the door. You went to the doorway, hoping to stop her from hurting V...but the room was empty aside from one picture of V that sat on a table in the center of the room.

You furrowed your brows for a second before you were pushed into the room. You fell to the floor and looked up at Rika as she came in and shut the door behind her.

“Poor little me,” She glared at you, “All trapped inside this fabulous show.”

You tried to stand up but she kicked you back down, “You could set me free.”

She held out the knife and you wanted to take it. Wanted to badly to take it and stop her from hurting V, but you couldn’t.

“If you’re going, go.” She said, smirking. She knew you couldn’t.

You shook your head and begged again. Trying to get her to stop this whole thing.

“It’s fine for you. It’s fine to flirt.”

“I’m so sorry Rika. Please stop this,” You cried.

You watched as she walked to the table and picked up the picture of V, tracing her finger across the frame, “And god he’s hot.”

She looked at you and showed you the picture, “Why does he even wear a shirt?”

She was teasing you now. This was all a joke to her. She didn’t care she was killing her friends as long as she was hurting you in the end.

“No, It’s fine,” She said, and you both turned when another voice spoke at the same time as her.

V was standing in the doorway. Dressed in his normal black shirt and grey jacket. You tried to scream at him, beg him to run so she didn’t hurt him. But he didn’t even look at you.

He walked into the room and looked Rika up and down, “Damn, you’re fine.”

He held out his hand and Rika took it, “Damn, you’re fine,” Rika replied.

You watched in horror as they looked into each other’s eyes, “And it’s fine���”

They turned so Vs back was towards you and Rika glanced at you over his shoulder, “Until someone gets-.”

He cut her off by pulling her into a kiss. Long and passionate. You couldn’t look away as he pulled her closer, ignoring your screams and cries. Rika pulled away after a long while and smiled at V. You saw him smile back before Rika looked at you.

“Until someone gets hurt,” She looked into Vs eyes and you saw the murderous look, “Until someone gets-”

She cut herself off by plunging the knife into Vs chest. You screamed as you watched him fall backward, betrayal written all over his face. He landed on his back in front of you and you crawled over to him.

“Hurt…” You heard Rika say, but you could only focus on V.

You used one hand to press down on his wound and your other hand to cup his cheeks and wipe away the single tear that fell. You let out a sob as he closed his eyes. 

You tensed up in anger and finally stood up. The barrier was broken now that everyone was dead. Facing Rika, you saw her bright smile and her satisfied look.

“You bitch!” You shouted, lunging towards her.

Right before you reached her you felt something grab your foot and slam you to the ground. The last thing you remember is Rika’s laugh before you passed out.

When you opened your eyes, you were back in the throne room. Rika was on the throne, and you were tied up and kneeling in front of her. You sobbed as you remembered what happened, how she murdered all your friends just because she wanted to torture you.

“Just kill me,” You begged, “Please.”

She laughed at you, “But that would end the suffering too soon.”

You watched her stand and walk towards you, stopping before you and tilting your chin so you were forced to look at her. She smirked at you and you tried to fight her grip, but couldn’t.

You closed your eyes and screamed, thrashing around and trying to escape. You sobbed when you felt a knife lightly caress your cheek and you leaned into it, wanting Rika to just end the pain she caused.

You heard her laugh, but it was cut off by shouting and voices coming from down the hall. You opened your eyes and saw Rika’s smirk fall and eyes widen as the shouting got closer.

You couldn’t understand what they were saying, but Rika evidently did. She quickly looked around for an exit, but before she could go anywhere someone tackled her to the ground as men in black suits surrounded her.

You looked around and sobbed in relief when you saw Zen, V, and Saeyoung at your side. Alive, and real, and safe. Zen and Saeyoung untied you while V just stared at you in horror. He kneeled in front of you and you saw his eyes tear up as he saw how broken you looked.

When the roped released you fell into Vs chest and sobbed, wrapping your arms around him and hugging him tightly. He hugged you back just as tightly and you silently thanked every got out there that everything she did didn’t actually happen.

“You can’t do this! I didn’t even touch her!” You heard Rika scream.

You buried your face into the crook of Vs neck and tried to ignore the pain you felt when she spoke. You felt Vs arms move under your knees and shoulders as he lifted you up bridal style.

You kept your arms around his neck as he carried you. You looked around and saw Jaehee, Jumin, and Yoosung by the doorway looking at you with concern. You bit your lip and tried not to cry when you saw them. You noticed Saeran glaring daggers at Rika as she was taken outside and forced into a cop car.

You buried your face into Vs neck when the sun hit your face. Wasn’t it sunset when you got there? Had you been gone all night? You heard a car door open and felt V try to set you down.

His arms loosened around you and you screamed, holding him tighter in fear that it was him dying or leaving you. You heard him sigh before tightening his arms around you.

Suddenly you were in his lap, his arms wrapped securely around you. You moved your head and opened your eyes, looking around. It looked like you were in a limo. Jumin, Jaehee, and Yoosung sat on the seats across from you. Seven sat on Vs left and Zen on his right. They were both trying to offer comfort but it was hard because of the way V was holding you.

Seven ran his hand through your hair and Zen awkwardly rubbed your leg, but you didn’t mind. You notices Saeran sitting next to Seven and he looked like he was deliberately looking away from you. After a few seconds, you notices his tears and instantly felt guilty for hurting him like this.

V tapped your arm to get your attention and you looked up at him.

“What happened?” He asked.

You swallowed, trying to get rid of the image of everyone dying in front of you, “Um…”

“V, she just got out. Give her a bit,” Zen said from next to you.

You shook your head, “No. No. It’s fine,” You just wanted to get this over with.

“I went to go find her because I knew she was behind the fake messages and I wanted to fix everything. She said it was only step one of her plan to torture me and then she told me to follow her so I did and she must’ve drugged me or something because no matter what I did I couldn’t attack her or escape. And the whole this wasn’t even real but it felt so real. I thought it was real. I-”

“MC,” Jumin spoke up, cutting you off, “Breathe. It’s okay. What happened after that.”

You took a deep breath, “She took me into a hallway filled with torn up pictures of me and started accusing me of using her to get to you guys. After a while, she led me into a room and she-” you cut yourself off when a sob forced its way out of your throat.

“It’s okay. You’re safe now,” Seven said.

You nodded and looked at Saeran. He was still facing the window but he was looking at you, “Oh god she killed you Saeran.”

You sobbed as you looked at Seven, “And you,” You turned to everyone else and explained what happened more. You were on the verge of a panic attack when you reached the part where she killed V.

You looked up at him, “I kept screaming at you to get out but you wouldn’t even look at me and then she kissed you and-” you gasped, clutching your chest.

V pulled you closer and you buried your face back into his neck, trying to calm down. His hand rubbed comforting circles on your back and you could feel everyone staring at you.

“Shh, it’s okay MC. Just breath. I’m right here. I’m alive. I promise.”

You listened to his voice and followed his breathing, trying to calm down. Images of everyone dying flooded your mind and you squeezed your eyes shut, reaching a hand up to latch on to his shirt.

“We’re all okay, MC,” Jaehee said.

“Yeah. We’re all alive,” Yoosung agreed. Everyone slowly began talking and comforting you and slowly you were able to calm down.

“I’m sorry,” you said and were instantly shushed by everyone there. They reassured you that they were okay and you were safe. With that knowledge, you were able to fall asleep. Safe and comfortable in Vs arms. 

Your dreams were plagued with nightmares for the next year, but the RFA stayed by your side and you knew you would be okay with them there.

Yeah sorry about that. Kinda just random and not accurate at all to the game but when inspiration hits i have to write.

[absolxguardian]

My Italy Vacation Photos Recreated in Assassin’s Creed

I’m putting them under the cut since they’re fairly large. I tried my best. A lot of times it’s not 1:1 because proportions were played with due to memory limitations. Oftentimes the piazzas certain monuments are located in aren’t large enough for me to get the same distance from the camera in the game as I did in real life. Also, the lack of a photo mode kept kicking me in the ass. Still, I’d like to think they returned out pretty well. I hope it captures the feeling I had when I was there in person, a feeling of familiarity.

FLORENCE 

The Basilica of San Lorenzo, home of the Medici crypt. The street the basilica faces in-game is much thinner than it is in real modern life.

A view of the river Arno and the Ponte Vecchio. In the time of the game, houses bordered the street parallel to the river on this side. Ezio is actually standing in someone’s yard. The bridge itself had too much foot traffic for me to take a photo crossing it.

The Mercato Vecchio, Florence’s market. The covered area still acts as a market place today for street vendors catering to tourists.

The Duomo/Basilica di Santa Maria del Fiore. The Baptistery near the Duomo is missing in the game due to technical limitations. The lack of detail on the facade is a combination of technical limitations and that some parts of the decoration had yet to be added.

Palazzo Medici. While the game sizes the palace down, a lot of interior decorations were only added in the preceding decades as the Medici increased in power.

The Palazzo della Signoria. While the shrunk down piazza was one factor that limited my ability to recreate the photos, the gallows that executed the Auditorie family prevented me from standing in the correct position. And that isn’t just something left in the game world from a story event, but historical accuracy. Public executions were held in that square, standard for the time, but a fact I had forgotten and my tour guide didn’t mention.

The Loggia dei Lanzi. In Ezio’s time, it was a public meeting area. With the rise of the Medici dukes, it became an open-air museum of statues. The originals of those (most of) same statues remain there today.

MONTERIGGIONI

Oh yeah, Monteriggioni is a real town, if you were just as surprised as I was when you found out.

Monteriggioni sits at the top of a hill, one that’s barely replicated in-game.

For safety reasons, large sections of the walls of Monteriggioni were removed and the overall height of the walls were lowered. They are still very impressive in person.

Tourists can walk on a small section of the wall. For some reason, walking on metal slats with gaps in them is more terrifying than centuries-old stone.

Modern Monteriggioni feels a lot more open than it’s depicted in the game, even in the modern parts of Brotherhood. Speaking of which, there’s no equivalent to the Auditore Villa, historically or in modern times. And while in the game, Monteriggioni is focused around a main street with all the shops for gameplay reasons, the real center of the town is this piazza. I figured out the game equivalent based on the location of the church.

 Attached to the church is a very nice small museum containing replicas of medieval weapons and armor for you to attempt to wear and wield. There are also some dioramas of medieval warfare. And since the town knows that a lot of Assassin’s Creed fans are going to be visiting the city, a good third of the merchandise in the museum gift shop is Assassin’s Creed merch.

There’s also this. Because while the Assassin aesthetic is copyrighted, Templars are not.

SAN GIMIGNANO

Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to visit San Gimignano myself and take pictures. I had to use the photos taken by my extended family members.

San Gimignano’s very iconic city skyline. Except for the highways, the rolling hills and valleys of Tuscany and the Romagna in the game remain accurate to the real world. Riding from the Rome airport to Rome on my first day. This was the first time I felt a sense of Deja vu thanks to Assassin’s Creed.

The church Santa Maria Assunta.

Some of San Gimignano’s famous towers. Since I didn’t take the photo myself, I have no idea which specific towers these are supposed to me. I just ran around the city in the game until I could see a similar amount and height of towers.

L'AQUILA

Yes, L’Aquila isn’t a town depicted in Assassin’s Creed, but it should have been. Just look at the name! If AC lore doesn’t have Assassins using it as a base in its very early days, I would be very surprised.

The Basilica Santa Maria di Collemaggio. Why are my photos of it included here? Well according to my relatives who live in L'Aquila, this church was actually built by Templars (hence the red and white facade). At least in English, I can’t find anything online supporting that, so I have to assume it’s just local folklore. Said folklore also says that the Holy Grail is buried under it. In the ACverse, there has to be a Piece of Eden under the church. With the earthquake in 2009 damaging the building and several companies helping to fund the restoration efforts, it’s now my headcanon that Abestergo was one of them and they grabbed the piece.

VENICE

Again, I had to use my extended family’s photos for this. I was only able to use a few of the ones they gave me, simply because neither I nor reverse google image search could even figure out what the rest were, and checking several of the monuments in the game gave me nothing.

The Doge’s Palace, the Basilica di San Marco, and the Campile San Marco. Despite not being there myself, from trying to recreate the pictures, I got the feeling that the piazza is much bigger in real life. And just like with the Signoria, the gallows got in my way as well.

The Ponte di Rialto. Before construction began in 1588, the bridge was made of wood. Today you can see it in its full stone glory.

ROME

The Colosseum. For game design purposes, the Colosseum is circular while the real Colosseum is ovular. The drastic difference in the inside of the arena is due to the fact that archaeological work to uncover the lower levels is currently ongoing.

The area around the colosseum, the forum, is quite different from how it was in 1500. That’s because Rome is built on Rome, and while it was a prime area for grazing in the renaissance, most the classical architecture remained buried under the ground. Archaeological work has drastically changed the elevations of the forum. The last photo isn’t even of the same place, strictly speaking. It’s just a random place in the countryside to demonstrate what was under Ezio’s feet.

It was taking these photos of the Pantheon that inspired me to start this photo project. The obelisk on the fountain was a later edition. Perspective is extra wonky for this one because of my own carelessness. Which I’ve only just realized typing this out as I remembered that the obelisk was on top of a fountain.

“Apparently, most gods had this building constructed in their honour. I, however, recommend worshipping at the modern-day espresso bars surrounding it.”

The piazza around the pantheon didn’t actually seem to have much in the way of espresso. There was a sign for a McDonald's directly across from the pantheon, and that was some cool contrast.

The Pantheon is still an active basilica, and as such, I wasn’t allowed to take photos of the inside.

Ponte Sant’Angelo. Unfortunately, I don’t have any other photos of Castel Sant’Angello because I hadn’t had the idea for this project yet. My dad took this photo for me because I’ve never been able to cross this damn bridge in Brotherhood because of all the guards (I’ve fully beaten the game now, so I just killed them to get the screenshot, but when I needed to get to the Castello I couldn’t).

This was the only photo I was able to recreate from the Vatican, and even then it’s very rough. That’s because most of the Papal complex, museum, and apartments (now Vatican City) was built under later Popes.

So instead have pictures of things I saw in the Vatican that look like Apples of Eden

(The last one is a modern art installation that the artist has refused to explain. It also spins around. Several versions of it exist around the world)

And one last thing is a painting I saw in my hotel in Rome that looks like Maysaf. The label was in Italian and reverse google image search can’t find it, so I can’t tell you what it really is or give you a better scan

[marvelgbt-posts]

Projects

{Photographer! Peter Parker x Bigender! Artist! Reader}

Warnings: i dont know much bout the bigender community, and so i did my research. So you identify as two genders? I dont know what ‘genders’ exactly you’d want here, so i’ll put they/them pronouns if thats okay :)

Summary: ‘can i please get a bigender reader who goes to art school with peter, that has like, “god like abilities” and always compliments/draws/tells peter hes amazing. ((tag @give-you-the-sxn please?))

Ofc my beautiful valid child <3

A/N: i decided to change it up a bit and have the art class as a club after school instead. Also I hc that tom hollands peter parker is into photography. I hope you like it >///<

I listened to ‘youth’ by Shawn Mendes and Khalid while doing this.

*not edited*

“Welcome class,” the teacher greeted you all brightly, “I’m glad you could make it after school today, what with all the rain and all I assumed only two or three of you would have shown up today. Anyways, you know what to do. Best get to it.” She clapped her hands, before turning her heel and moving to write on the board, writing ‘Integrated Arts Club’ in a cursive calligraphy font. That was her contribution to the club. Calligraphy.

You sighed. This was a way for you to escape the harsh reality of the outside world. Half the students in this club were members of the community, no scratch that, the majority of students were gay. There was maybe only one or two straight people apart of this club.

You took out your paints, paintbrushes, pencils, and then got your canvas from inside the supply closet where you had left it yesterday. It was your newest project, a painting of a woman in white, with bright red lips and a black dress that blended into the black background of your canvas. You were inspired by a woman you had seen one night on the streets of Queens.

Taking a seat by yourself- taking up the whole table with your paints and brushes spread everywhere- you began painting. Everything was already finished, you just needed the details. You heard the door open and close, only choosing to look up when you finished an eyelash stroke.

“Yeah, this is where I go after school. That over there is Mia- the one spray painting the poster paper- and the dude over there with the guitar is Jay. That over there is (y/n), their bigender so I’d just use androgynous pronouns for them. Over there is Ms. Burningham, our club sponsor, and the dude in the corner is Max, he’s a comic book artist. You’d fit right in, Peter.”

The voice belonged to MJ, a close friend of yours. She often helped give you inspiration, letting you paint some of her sketches to life. You heard her walk behind you, leaning down so her hair was in your peripheral vision. You looked up, “Yo, MJ.” You smiled at her, then up at the newbie.

He was short, about an inch or so shorter than you, with brown eyes and hair. He wore a sweater over another shirt, jeans, and ha a camera in his hands. He was trembling, probably nervous.

“Hey, ahh, who’s this?” You asked MJ, who looked at Peter. She leaned back against the table, her palms getting paint on them from the splatters that had fallen off your plate of paint.

“Parker- Peter. Peter Parker. Nice to meet you.”

He went to shake your hand, you lifted yours up to show him you had gotten black and red all over them, “Sorry, dont wanna mess up your hands. That camera looks expensive.”

Peter made a small ‘oh’ noise, looking down to his small Canon camera. “Yeah, it- its almost completely brand new. I sold some of my old stuff to get it. Useless stuff, shirts and books and stuff.”

“Cool, cool. Uh, MJ, could you tell Jay to keep it down over there? Can’t hear my own thoughts over his wanna-be indie music,” you said, completely disregarding the boy in front of you now. It wasn’t that you were rude, you just wanted to get this painting finished hole everything was still wet, otherwise it would make problems later on. MJ rolled her eyes, but nodded. You flashed Peter a smile, before turning to you painting.

After about a minute of silence, you heard a gasp behind you, “Holy shit- that’s really good!” You looked up, seeing Peter next to you with his camera turned on. He blushed, “Sorry! It’s just you looked so calm and pleasing, I snapped a quick photo while you weren’t looking- sorry.”

You half-smiled, standing upright, “Thanks, and it’s okay. This class is freedom of expression. Just not expression, ‘kay? As in, no swearing,” you laughed and pointed to the lady at the front of the class, her hands busy grading the Latin worksheets. Peter nodded, surprise clear across his face, “Oh- sorry.”

“Can I see?”

“What?”

“The pictures, can I see? I mean, they're of me, right?”

“Oh- yeah! Totally!”

Peter pushed a few buttons on his camera, and he scrolled through some of the photos until he found yours. “Here-”

“Wow, i look hot!”

You moved closer to Peter to get a better look, gawking at the aesthetic that was put into one simple photo. You did look good in this photo. “Mind sending me this? Not just this, other stuff, too. I’d love to make a piece from these- oh, if that’s okay?”

“Uhh- yeah! Sure!”

***

You flopped onto the bed, curling up next to a pillow. It was cold from loneliness, making you snuggle closer to it. You looked at your nails- paint ad managed to get wedged between the nail and the skin, and no matter how hard you tried it wouldn’t wash away.

You sighed, ready to turn off the light until your phone went off. You checked it to see there was a message from MJ, asking you if it was okay to give Peter your number. You texted back, ‘Yeah. Totally.’

Three minutes later, your phone went off again and it was Peter.

Unknown

Hey (y/n) its peter

Parker

Peter parker

Um

I just wanted to know if you wanted the photos to be on a hard drive or through gmail or something?

Hello?

-11:13-

You

Yeah

I’m here hi

A hard drive would be nice thanks

-11:15-

You took a moment to change Peter’s ID to his name. About five minutes later, Peter responded with more spam

Peter

Okay cool

Yeah okay

Yeah i can do that

Sure

Yeah

Okay

Cool

-11:32-

You

Lol

Imma sleep

Night peter

-11:35-

Peter

(…)

Night

-11:45-

***

The next day, you bumped into Peter in the hallway, “Oh, hi Pete. Can I call you that?”

“Hi, (y/n)! Yeah, totally cool!”

“Cool, got the hard drive?”

“Yeah, right here,” Peter patted his jean pockets for a bit before pulling out a black and red hard drive, “It has maybe 20 or 25 pictures here. Their mostly just random pictures of places around Queens, hope that’s okay?” You nod, “Thanks Pete.”

***

That night, you went home and changed Peter’s ID to ‘Pete’. After that, you plugged the hard drive into your laptop, opening the file titled ‘images’ and scrolling through the photos. Most of them were taken at impossible angles, and you wondered how Peter was able to capture photos like them. One was at the top of a building and looking down onto a busy interstate. Another was of the stars, a bit of the background trees getting in the frame. They were beautiful. Another was of MJ, her back towards the camera, a backpack strap in her hand, looking to the left at the sky with a sunset background. You saved that image as ‘Michelle_jERKFACE.jpeg’ on your computer. The photo Peter took of you earlier was amongst them as well.

You went to bed that night with a smile on your face and ideas fresh in your mind, ready for tomorrow's Club Meeting.

***

“Hey (y/n)! Like the pictures i sent?”

“Holy Shii-shhh! Peter! That sentence can go two ways!”

“OH! Sorry...”

“Its fine, and yes I did like them. They were really good! How come you never joined before?”

“Never thought i was good enough.”

“Not good enough?! Peter, those photos are professional level photos. They are wonderful and beautiful and deserve to be in a museum.”

“Oh, wow, thanks...” peter blushed, looking own with a small smile on his face.

***

You looked at the scenery before you, trees brown and crisp from the fall air. Peter sat next to you, his camera ready to snap a picture at any moment. MJ sat opposite Peter, sketchbook in hand and sketching the trees and people. Ned was posing by a fountain as Peter playfully took photos of him. You started sketching Peter into your own book, smiling when you finished and began shading.

MJ looked over at you, “Damn, you’re gay for Peter Parker.”

You looked at MJ with a shocked expression, before looking at the sketch and at Peter, who was now out of ear shot.

“Totally,” you smiled, before both of you went back to your drawings.

***

“Peter,” you looked at him seriously from your spot on his bed, “Ever think about kissing dudes before?”

Peter blushed, “I- ah, um...” His eyes widened, before looking down shamefully, “Y-Yeah… more than a few times...”

You smiled, “Cool, so what? You’re… bi?”

“More pan, I look for personality more than gender.”

“Cool, same. I’m (sexuality).”

“Oh, cool!”

***

“Peter, where are we going?”

“Behind the school. There’s something I need to show you.”

Peter had your hand tight in his grip, pulling you through the almost empty hallways. His voice didn’t stutter, which worried you.

Finally, you made it. Peter pulled out his camera, “Stand in front of that street art Mia did yesterday.” You did just that. Peter moved your arms to move in front of your sweater, telling you to tug at it a bit and look up at the sky. He moved some hair in front of your face to cover your eyes. He knelt down, snapping the photo.

“Cool, now stay there.”

“Do you always get like this for a photo?” You asked as Peter pressed record, moving next to you, “What do you mean?”

“Nothing, um. What are you doing?”

“Its for a project. I’m gonna screenshot part of the video later. Please, this is important.”

You watched Peter as he took control of the situation, taking your (smaller/bigger) hands in is own, intertwining them as he leant up.

“Kiss me.”

You coughed, moving back. Peter moved his arms around you again, “Please?”

“Why?”

“The project- please (y/n).”

You slowly gave in, letting Peter wrap his arms around your waist as you looked down into his eyes, your hands cupping his cheeks softly. He leant up to kiss you softly. Both of you stayed there, afraid and unsure of how to move.

“I’m sorry,” Peter said after a while, moving away. You were quick to react, taking the back of his head and slamming it back onto yours.

“Mph-!”

He was taken aback by the action, soon melting and whimpering into it.

Yep, you were so gay for Peter Parker.

[buoyantsaturn]

Tennis Court (1/1)

summary: “I can see it on your face, Will. You think he’s cute.”

For a second, Will tried to pretend that - what, that he didn’t have eyes? - but groaned and folded almost immediately. Kayla had always been able to see right through him (the most memorable time: Kayla was thirteen and Will was fifteen and Will said, "I’m going to ask that girl out on a date," and Kayla said, "no you’re not, you don’t even like girls," and Will, having recently only figured that out for himself but having not yet come out of the closet, kind of cringed and said, "okay, maybe you’re right, but we will not speak of this to anyone").

“Fine, okay, whatever, he’s cute,” Will said with a huff.

word count: 4966

read it on ao3

Will plopped down onto the couch next to his sister. He cradled a full bowl of cereal close to his chest as he nodded to her laptop. “What’re you watching?” he asked through a mouthful of cheerios.

“Youtube,” Kayla answered, shifting closer to her brother so he could watch the screen. She pointed at the girl in the video. “Look at her! All she vlogs about is fitness and makeup, and she’s gorgeous. Look at her eyeliner - so sharp it could kill a man - but she doesn’t need her eyeliner to kill a man because her arms could do it.”

Will glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “I thought I was the gay sibling.”

“No, you are,” Kayla assured him. “Doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate beauty, though.”

Will nodded. “So you just watch her videos for makeup techniques?”

“Sometimes. She also does videos with her roommate on occasion, those are pretty great,” Kayla told him. They watched the screen for another minute, before Kayla said, “Ooh, here he comes!”

Will watched the video with curiosity evident on his face as the girl on the screen - Reyna, it looked like from the video summary at the bottom of the page - called off screen, “Nico, can you come help me with something?”

After another second, a shaggy head of hair came through the doorway. “What is it?”

Reyna - who must’ve been in a rolling chair - slid to the side of the screen and gestured Nico over. Will could see him roll his eyes before fully entering the room, revealing a baggy t-shirt and flannel pajama pants, and taking a seat in front of the camera.

As Reyna set up the table that Will couldn’t see, Nico pulled his hair away from his face and into a ponytail. Now, Will could see dark eyes and pale skin and tiny freckles and Will was in love.

He had completely forgotten about his cereal when Nico closed his eyes and tipped his head up toward Reyna as she explained her makeup process and started dabbing some kind of cream on his skin.

“So, um,” Will started while Reyna rubbed the cream into Nico’s skin, effectively hiding each of his freckles and evening out his skin tone. “You said they’re roommates?”

“Yeah,” Kayla answered. “A lot of their fans think they’re dating, but they’ve never explicitly said they were, so I don’t believe it.”

Will nodded. “And how’d you find their videos?”

“I have a class with this girl named Hazel, and Nico’s her half-brother.” Kayla took the bowl out of Will’s hands and started eating the now-soggy cheerios. “Gross, you can’t even eat the good cereal. Anyway, we sit next to each other, and she was watching one of Nico’s videos one day and complaining the whole time about how dumb he is.”

“He looks dumb,” Will muttered in an awe-filled voice, eyes locked on where Reyna was lining Nico’s eyes with flawlessly pointed wings.

Kayla slammed the computer shut and placed both it and the bowl of cereal on the coffee table. “You think he’s cute,” Kayla stated, turning back to her brother who was wide-eyed and obviously startled.

“What? I never--”

“I can see it on your face, Will. You think he’s cute.”

For a second, Will tried to pretend that - what, that he didn’t have eyes? - but groaned and folded almost immediately. Kayla had always been able to see right through him (the most memorable time: Kayla was thirteen and Will was fifteen and Will said I’m going to ask that girl out on a dateand Kayla said no you’re not, you don’t even like girls and Will, having recently only figured that out for himself but having not yet come out of the closet, kind of cringed and said okay, maybe you’re right, but we will not speak of this to anyone).

“Fine, okay, whatever, he’s cute,” Will said with a huff and stood from the couch. “I have homework to finish for class tomorrow.”

Which was true. It was totally true and he really needed to do all that homework so that he could get into a good medical school in a couple years, but he also had a laptop in his room, a laptop that had internet access, which meant he could go on Youtube all day.

He started on Reyna’s channel, since he’d seen her handle and knew how to access it, and figured that he’d be able to find Nico’s channel from there. What he didn’t expect to find at Reyna’s channel, however, were her two newest videos: the first, which started playing as soon as he opened the page, had Reyna almost in tears as she picture-in-pictured fan videos on the bottom of the screen. Each of the fan videos were similar, all how Reyna had inspired them to get in shape and be the best me that I can be, but all of them, plus Reyna’s reactions, were the sweetest thing Will had ever seen.

The second video, however, was a shitstorm. While it was on Reyna’s channel, it started out with Nico standing in a kitchen holding a metal whisk and saying, “It’s cookie time.” Nico had gone on to explain that he’d somehow pissed off some guy (he clearly didn’t pay attention to much around him) and his sister had said to bake cookies for forgiveness.

“As I have never used an oven without adult supervision, and seeing as this is not my channel, Reyna will be helping me with the forgiveness cookies. I hope we still have an apartment after this is all over.”

It was clearly not in any way a professional video; one, because they had to keep referring to the recipe, even if it was triple checking that it was definitely one cup of flour, Nico, not the whole bag; two, Nico swore constantly, no matter what he was doing, but it was mostly when he was pouring things (it was shit when he cracked a bit of eggshell into the bowl, and holy shit, that’s gross, what the hell when he dug the bit of shell out of the mix with his fingers, and a few more assorted shits and damn its thrown around); and three, the final product was a mess: there had been three batches, the first of which they had forgotten the chocolate chips, but that batch had burned anyway, so they were a throwaway no matter what. The second batch was decent, still overcooked and with barely any chocolate. While those were cooking, Nico had dumped the rest of the chocolate chips they had into the batter, which left the third batch a mess.

From this video, Will found the link to Nico’s channel (TheGhostKing; Reyna’s was praetorRARA) and started his videos from the beginning. Almost.

The first few videos looked a little cringy, with terrible camera quality and an equally terrible hair cut, so Will skipped over those. He started instead, about ten videos in, with one titled I’m gonna collab w a ghost.

The video started with Nico, about two years younger than he was now though he didn’t look much different, sitting alone and explaining that he was going on a ghost hunt. “But not really a hunt because these ghosts haven’t done anything wrong; we’re just gonna talk to them.” After that, the video was mostly just night-vision shots of trees and the ground and Nico talking over it. It got quiet for a second and Nico shouted something, and then the camera hit the ground.

The screen lit up again and Nico was back in the room that the video had started in, though this time there were twigs in his hair and his face was smeared with dirt.

“So I didn’t find a ghost,” Nico said, wiping at his cheek with his equally dirty fingers and really just spreading the dirt around. “Turns out I had wandered out of the graveyard and into somebody’s back yard; I dunno, it was dark, I couldn’t really see anything. But yeah, they heard me shouting, and it’s like, three in the morning, so they weren’t very happy. They set their dog on me, but I’m good. I’m fine. Still gotta collab with that ghost, though.”

As the video ended, Will couldn’t help but think, I can’t believe he’s even cuter somehow.

Will had spent almost an entire day watching Nico and Reyna’s videos. One of Reyna’s - one that didn’t include Nico, however he was mentioned frequently - had particularly upset Will. It showed tons of screenshots of Youtube comments and Tumblr asks, all demanding to know the nature of Nico and Reyna’s relationship that they weren’t showing the audience. Reyna had - rightfully - acted disgusted at the comments, told everyone to mind their own business, and explicitly stated that her and Nico were friends and roommates and nothing more, and if anyone was watching for something other than makeup, fitness, or a plain-old good time, they were free to unsubscribe from her channel.

After watching that video, Will had scrolled through Nico’s from around that same date to see if he’d made his own comment on the matter, but the closest video to the date and time that Reyna’s was posted was one titled hella.

As far as Will could tell upon playing the video, it was just one where Nico sat and talked to the camera directly.

“I bet you’re wondering, hella what? Right? Lemme tell you,” Nico said, leaning in. “Hella gay. As in I am. Hella gay since birth, the gayest person you’ll ever meet, also the coolest person you’ll ever meet, but that’s not what we’re talking about right now. We’re talking about how incredibly gayI am, and how I’ve never dated a girl ever so we should quit suggesting that I have.

“Have I ever mentioned how not-straight I am? Have I ever even suggested that I was straight in any way? Nope, I don’t think so. Because I’m super gay. Have I ever told you about that time I snuck into a gay bar and got kicked out because I was only seventeen? Or about all the boys I’ve dated? Or the men I’ve had crushes on? How about all of those males I’m attracted to?

“Wow, it’s almost like it’s none of your business what my sexuality is, but when people start harassing my friends and coming up to me on the street and insisting on how super straight and in love with my roommate I am, I kind of feel like it’s necessary to make sure every single one of youknows that I’m super extremely gay.

“And I clearly don’t mean gay as in happy, okay? If you think that, then you’ve clearly never seen my face. I mean gay as in flaming homosexual,okay? Like, if I were on Will and Grace, Grace would be in love with me because of how super gay I am. For those of you that don’t have any idea what that is, it’s a super gay show from the nineties about a straight woman who always falls in love with closeted gays, and her gay roommate who’s super gay, just like me.

“Amazing, a gay man and a straight woman living in the same apartment in New York City, that sounds so familiar. Leave out the falls in love with gay men part, and you’ve got me and Reyna, imagine that! Just a single man who loves gay men, and a single woman who loves...whoever she loves. Honestly, I have no idea. Maybe nobody. Definitely not me. Not even platonic love. Reyna hates me.”

Nico glanced down at his bare wrist as if reading a watch. “Wow, would you look at the time, I’ve got somewhere gay to be, see you around.” And the video was over.

Will didn’t click on another video. He simply stared at the blank screen for a moment or seven before rolling out of bed and rushing into the living room.

“Kayla, I have a huge problem,” Will said as he stood in between his sister and the TV.

“Why do you always have to stand right in front of the screen like that?” Kayla groaned, but Will knew she would listen to him.

“Nico’s super gay and I think I love him a little bit.”

Kayla rolled her eyes and pulled out her phone. “Do you want me to ask Hazel if Nico wants to go out with you?”

Will jumped over the coffee table and fell onto the couch next to her. “Holy shit, would you do that for me?”

“Maybe,” Kayla said, eyes narrowing, “for a price.”

Will pouted. “Not money. Not homework, you know I can’t do your homework, I’ve tried. ”

“No, of course not,” Kayla told him. “Dishes for two months.”

Will rolled his eyes but agreed. “Ugh, fine. Whatever. Please, just talk to Hazel?”

“Alright, fine.”

“Thank you, Kayla!” Will lunged forward, wrapping his arms around her. “You’re the best sister I’ve ever had!”

“I’m the only sister you’ve ever had, get off of me, or I’ll reconsider.” She pushed Will off of her just as she sent a snap off to Hazel. “Alright, I’ve made contact. We’ll see what happens now.”

Hazel happened to be helping her brother film his next video. She didn’t really understand why she was there - sometimes Nico just asked her to be there to help fill in story details and sometimes they were in the middle of hanging out when Nico got a new idea. This time, she was simply watching him complain to the camera, and when she felt her phone buzz in her pocket, she fished it out.

It was a snapchat from Kayla, who sat next to her in one of her classes. The full message actually came across in about three snaps, all of a hardwood floor and read, my brother thinks your brother is cute, and he wants to know if nico is interested, and like in dating and being gay or whatever.

Hazel giggled, which drew Nico’s attention away from the camera.

“What are you laughing at?” Nico asked. “Are you snapchatting, what the hell. Now I have to find a place to cut and restart, Hazel, c’mon.”

In response, Hazel lifted her phone and took a picture of Nico’s glaring face, which she sent back to Kayla with, I’ll ask later, we’re filming now.

“Did she say anything yet?” Will asked impatiently, hugging his knees to his chest.

“Nope,” Kayla answered without checking her phone.

“Kayla! You didn’t even look!”

“You’re acting like a four year old, Will.”

“Whatever.” Will pouted, staying quiet for a few seconds before Kayla’s phone screen lit up. “Ahh! She answered!”

“What the hell, Will! Stop acting like a child,” Kayla told him as she picked up her phone. Will tugged on her arm until he could see the screen too, and Kayla opened the snap. It was a close up of Nico’s face, and he was glaring but kind of smiling at the same time, and Will could see his freckles so clearly that he forgot to read the message.

“Wait, I didn’t read it, what did it say?” Will asked when the image disappeared.

“She’s gonna ask him later, they’re busy.”

Will groaned and fell back against the arm of the couch.

“Hey, Nico,” Hazel started when they were sitting on the couch, watching cartoons.

“Yeah?” he answered, still looking at the screen.

“Those snapchats earlier? They were from a friend that wants to know if you’re interested in dating somebody,” Hazel told him. “That somebody being my friend’s brother.”

Nico glanced warily out of the corner of his eye. “What did you say?”

“That I’d ask you later because we were busy.”

Nico huffed. “Do you know anything about him? I’m not gonna agree to a date with some stranger, Hazel, especially if I don’t even know what he looks like.”

“Well, his name’s Will, he’s pre-med, and has a sister named Kayla that I know a lot more about,” Hazel told him. “I can ask for a picture of him?”

Nico nodded, and as Hazel was typing, he asked, “They’re not gonna ask for a picture of me, are they?”

“No, he’s seen some of your videos, I think. Kayla said he thinks you’re cute.”

Nico turned back to the screen and tried to hide his face from his sister. “That’s a start, I guess.”

Kayla kept taking pictures of Will when he wasn’t looking, and he freaked out whenever he caught her, thinking that that was the picture going to Nico. He could Not! Look! Bad! To! Cute! Boys! It was not allowed! And Kayla was being the opposite of helpful!

“Please, Kayla, you can’t send him a bad picture, I’ll die,” Will begged as he tried to snatch the phone away.

“You’re so overdramatic! You know you don’t take bad pictures, Will, you’ve literally looked decent in all of these.”

“But decent isn’t good enough! Nico is super cute and if I don’t look even half that cute, I’ll never have a chance with him!”

The room was quiet enough that Will could hear the video loop coming from Kayla’s phone, starting at Nico is super cute . Will couldn’t see the video before it was gone.

“You did not just send that,” Will demanded. “Kayla.”

“Whoops,” she said, though she was smiling triumphantly.

“I’m dead. I’ll never be a doctor because I’m dead and you’ve killed me.”

Turns out, Kayla had actually been sending tons of pictures to Hazel, and Nico seemed to be having a hard time believing that somebody like Will wanted to date him.

Will looked like he had just rolled out of bed, but still looked amazing. He looked good in pajama pants, what the hell, and he was all tan and had messy curly hair and these amazing blue eyes, and Nico was ready to tell Hazel to start planning the wedding when a video started to load.

“Nico is super cute and if I don’t look even half that cute, I’ll never have a chance with him!”

Even his voice was amazing.

Nico put his head in his hands, but he couldn’t keep the elated grin off his lips. “Hazel, I-- Date, him. I want-- I want to-- Shit, Hazel, how the hell do you ask someone out?”

“Leave that to me and Kayla, Neeks,” Hazel told him, holding up her phone. “Smile!”

“I’ve got a snap!” Kayla announced, and while Will had been curled up in fear beforehand, he was now at Kayla’s shoulder, nervously chewing his lip as she opened the message.

The picture was Nico, turned away from the camera but obviously smiling, cheeks a light pink and one hand covering his eyes as the other reached out as if to push the camera away. Will’s eyes flickered to the message just in time to see the It’s a date! before the image disappeared.

“What?” Will muttered, disbelieving.

Kayla rolled her eyes. “Did you forget to read the message again? It said--”

“No, I saw it,” Will cut in. “I just-- He said yes? I-- We’re gonna go on a date? He said yes to going on a date with me? And that was his face when he said it? Kayla, did you see his face? He looked so happy, and that was because of me! He’s never looked that happy in any of his videos ever, but now he’s going on a date with me and he was smiling like that.”

“Yeah, yeah, I saw his face,” Kayla drawled, but she was smiling a little bit, too. “Where do you wanna go on your very special date? Or do you want me and Hazel to do everything for you?”

Their first date was be a simple meet up at a coffee shop. Hazel and Kayla went with them, but sat at the opposite end of the shop, spying on their brothers as Will (who refused to let Nico pay for him) bought the two of them drinks and they sat down at a small table.

It took a couple of minutes for conversation to flow, because the two boys kept looking down at their drinks and blushing whenever they glanced up at each other.

Eventually, Nico got the ball rolling with: “So, um, Hazel told me you’re pre-med?”

Kayla rolled her eyes from across the room. She didn’t even need to hear the conversation to know that they were talking about Will and medical school. Every time somebody new brought it up, Will would get this big, dumb smile and he’d start talking with his hands.

“Do you know what they’re talking about?” Hazel asked quietly, not that she could be heard by the other pair from across the room.

Kayla sighed. “Will only gets that stupid look on his face when he’s talking about becoming a doctor. Honestly, I’m tired of hearing about how he’s got his life together.”

Will talked for a while about his pre-med program, but Nico didn’t mind at all. Will had this super excited look on his face the whole time he was talking, and even if Nico didn’t really understand what was going on, he appreciated being able to see Will’s face.

They moved on to other topics, mostly so that Will could learn more about Nico. Nico had kind of shied away at first, saying that if Will had watched his videos then he really already knew everything about Nico.

“I think I probably know more about Reyna than I do about you, honestly,” Will had told him. “I might have even watched more of her videos than yours, to tell you the truth.”

“And why might that be?” Nico had asked a bit cautiously.

Will had blushed and let his eyes stray away from Nico. “Well, it’s not that I didn’t find that ghost hunting video interesting, it’s just that watching you goof off with your roommate is a lot cuter than occasionally seeing your feet through night vision.”

“We’ve been here for three hours,” Hazel said when she checked her phone. “And I think that barista’s giving me the stink eye.”

“Whatever, we’ve bought like two drinks each,” Kayla said. “Lover boys over there, on the other hand...” She trailed off with a glance toward her brother, who was leaning an elbow on the table with a big dopey smile on his face.

“Still, I’ve got other things to do,” Hazel complained. “That paper for class that was assigned like, two weeks ago? I haven’t even started that yet!”

“Ooh, same, we should get on that,” Kayla responded. “Do you think they’ll even notice if we leave?”

“They look pretty wrapped up with each other,” Hazel said. “I think we’re probably safe.”

“Go slow and be silent,” Kayla started with a joking tone. “Don’t startle them, and we’ll be home free.”

The two were outside the shop in less than a minute, watching through the window for a moment to make sure they hadn’t been noticed.

“We’ve created a monster,” Kayla muttered.

They had been dating for about a month. They’d gone out, they’d stayed in, Nico had met Will’s friends and Will had met Nico’s. Will had been mentioned in one or two of Nico’s videos, and had even been brought up for a second in one of Reyna’s. Until now, at least.

Reyna hadn’t told them beforehand about her next video idea. She had just waited until she knew that Will would be around, grabbed her one camera that wasn’t directly connected to her computer, and set to work.

She creeped into Nico’s room, early enough that she knew Nico (for sure, but she didn’t know about Will) wouldn’t be awake, filming the entire time. Reyna sneaked closer, starting her best impression of a nature documentary narrator.

“Here, we see the natural habitat of the domesticated gays,” she started quietly, though her voice still caused Nico to stir. “Note the pre-med, who actually cares about his health, lying flat on his back to eliminate muscle pain. And note the emo, laying half on top of the pre-med with, as usual, no care for his physical health.”

At this point, Nico was awake, chin resting on Will’s chest as he squinted up at his roommate. “Ra-Ra, what the hell are you doing?”

Reyna cried, “I’ve been spotted!” before running out of the room.

The next time she found them was about twenty minutes later, in the kitchen. Will was standing at the counter, making himself a bowl of cereal as he waited for the coffee to brew, and Nico was pressed up against his back, arms tight around his waist, and eyes closed. He looked like he’d fallen asleep standing up.

Reyna turned on her camera. “Here, we see the domesticated gays retrieving their first meal of the day. Well. One of them, anyway. Again, note the pre-med, looking well rested and preparing a healthy meal, and note the emo. Not eating, trying to leech the warmth from the pre-med, and probably still asleep. Probably stayed up on his phone all night while the pre-med was sleeping, like usual.”

“Shut up, you don’t know me,” Nico mumbled as he turned his face to the bare skin of Will’s back.

“That’s exactly what happened,” Will told the camera, before reaching into the cupboard in front of him and pulling out two mugs and placing them on the counter. “You want any coffee, Reyna?”

Will had finished his coffee and cereal, and Nico was now on his third mug. The two were sitting on the couch, Nico between Will’s legs with his back to Will’s chest, two freckled arms settled around his waist. Nico had his mug cradled against his chest, and both him and Will were focused on the TV across the room.

“Here, the domesticated gays are relaxed,” Reyna narrated, and Nico shushed her. She continued: “The pre-med having had a healthy one cup of coffee, and the emo is now on his third.”

“Reyna, shut up, we don’t talk during Voltron,” Nico demanded, keeping his eyes on the screen.

Will shot her an apologetic look, but Reyna just shrugged. She was used to this.

When she found them again, she made sure that Voltron wasn’t still playing. Will was laying back on the couch, Nico laying completely on top of him, fast asleep once again with a hand fisted in Will’s t-shirt.

Will was holding a textbook up over his head.

Reyna started recording. “Will, what the hell are you doing?”

His head shot in her direction, obviously startled, but still made sure not to disturb Nico. When he spoke, his voice was hushed. “I, uh, wasn’t actually planning on staying over this long? And I have a test tomorrow. So I’m studying.”

“Why don’t you just wake Nico up so you can leave?”

Will glanced down at his sleeping boyfriend, before looking back to Reyna. “I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

Will hesitated, cheeks growing pink. “No comment.”

Reyna rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help but smile a little bit. Until she glanced at the TV. “Are you watching Voltron again ? You just watched every episode yesterday!”

This time, it was Will that rolled his eyes. “Yeah, and we would’ve watched every episode again today, but now you can stop it before he notices.” He tipped his head toward the remote control just out of his reach. “Please, all I ask for is quiet time to study.”

Soon enough, Nico had woken up and Will had left, which meant that Reyna had to hold off filming until Will (inevitably) returned the next day after his test.

Reyna had actually arrived later than Will, and only had time to pull up her phone’s camera before she was in the living room, filming the two boys making out on the couch.

“Ah, it seems that it’s mating season for the domestic gays,” she said, loud enough that Nico jumped out of Will’s lap.

“What the hell! How long have you been home?” he demanded, though his glare was a lot less threatening when his face was so pink.

“Ten seconds,” Reyna answered, looking at the timer on her video.

Nico made a frustrated noise before he stood from the couch, grabbing one of the hands that Will was currently using to cover his red face, and pulled his boyfriend to his bedroom. “You are not allowed to follow us!” he shouted before the door shut and locked.

“Fine, just hold off on the gross noises for five more minutes,” Reyna yelled through the door. “I’ll be at the gym.”

When she returned, the two were back on the couch, though this time it was Will using Nico’s chest as a pillow. As far as Reyna could tell, neither of them were asleep, though neither of them were talking, either. She pulled out her phone again, staying silent as she started filming.

Nico threaded his fingers with Will’s, running his thumb across the back of Will’s hand. “Why’re you so tired, anyway?” he asked softly.

Will yawned into Nico’s shirt. “Stayed up all night studying for that test,” he mumbled, nuzzling into Nico’s chest.

They were quiet for a few more moments, almost long enough that Reyna considered turning off her camera, but then she heard, “Is that your hand on my ass?”

“That was an accident,” Nico said, and Will propped his chin up on Nico’s sternum with a glare. Will was too soft for his glares to be threatening, though.

“It’s still there,” Will told him.

“It’s still an accident,” Nico answered, and Will’s glare only lasted half a second longer before he was laughing into Nico’s neck.

buy me a coffee

[dansphlevels]

The Subject Series

  This fic was written for her @phandomreversebang with artist @corgi-lester. You can find the art here. This fic has been in the works for a long time but I really like it and I hope you will too!

Summary: Tensions have been rising in Phil’s hometown at the rise in gun violence and string of robberies. However, Phil has bigger things to worry about me, like his newest art assignment to paint a series of portraits showing the true character of a person you know. Phil has his subject, the only problem is, he doesn’t actually know Dan, though he’s more than willing to rememdy that. 

Length: 8k

Highschool!phan au with artist!Phil and newkid!Dan, including the growth of a friendship, Phil being a little stalker-y, and Dan not understanding the concept of stranger danger. Was heavily inspired by my Drabble series ‘Artists’ and recent events involving gun violence. 

“I want to do five paintings, all different sized canvases that link together.”

 Mr. Hebbs shook his head. “Phil, this isn’t that complex an assignment. You only have to do three, and canvases aren’t required.”

 “It’s fine, I get a discount on them at my job,” Phil insisted. “And I like to paint at home.”

 “But Phil—” Mr. Hebbs saw the look Phil was giving him and changed direction. “You have other classes, I don’t want-”

 “I really appreciate everything you do,” Phil reassured with his teacher-pleasing smile. “How about I let you know if it’s too much? Then I’ll go down to only painting three canvases.” Mr. Hebbs started saying something else, but Phil quickly cut him off with a “You’re the best! I’ll see you in class!”

 Phil was already halfway out of the door when Mr. Hebbs called out, “But Phil! Who is going to be your subject!”

 “I’ll figure it out!”

———

 The beginning of the semester was not something to be excited about. You could be the best student in school, but you still wouldn’t cheer about it if someone held a gun up to your head.

 Phil was right in the middle of the spectrum. He definitely didn’t hate school, but the end of winter break meant less free time for art and more brain power having to be spent on things like trigonometry and physiology.

He spent most of Trig staring at the other students in the class. For the art project, he had to find a subject to paint a few times, but no one in his classes stuck out to him.

 As Mr. Goinstein lectured, Phil felt his hands fidget almost on their own merit, scribbling out a design on his travel-sized sketchbook. It ending up being the teacher, with his hairline receding almost as far back as in real life, his suit cheap looking but well pressed. Phil wondered if his hair had gotten greyer in the past few weeks.

 Phil jolted when he felt a hand on his shoulder. “Hey,” a voice whispered, “do you have a pencil?”

 Phil turned around to double check that he wasn’t hearing things— he sat at the back of the class for a reason, how dare someone move to be further back than him— except no one had moved. The boy sitting before him- or rather, behind him— wasn’t a regular face in the class.

 Phil would know. He’d drawn every face in the class; or attempted to, at least.

 The boy was looking at him expectantly, and his mind snapped back in to focus. “I don’t have a pencil,” Phil replied. The boy looked down to his hand, where he was holding a 2H pencil. “This is special. I can’t— I might have a pen?”

 Phil wanted to frame the slightly wonderstruck expression the boy gave him. With his face a little warmer than it had been before, he dug through his backpack and found a pen, giving it to the new kid.

 Phil looked back at his doodles. Would it be creepy if—. Before he could finish the thought, his pencil was back on paper, sketching out an oval with two lines intersecting it. He marked the eyes, then the nose, adjusted the chin, and added the hair. Before he knew it, he’d drawn the boy sitting behind him.

 If the boy was a troll.

 Phil flipped to the next page, trying again only this time with more space. The problem with drawing faces an inch high was that in real life, they were notably bigger, which meant that details were lost in the drawing. Sometimes the faces turned out fine. And sometimes they turned out looking like the person had just crawled out from underneath a bridge offering to grant your fondest wish in return for your first born child.

 Phil scribbled out another face, this one closer to scale. It was more accurate. This time, the boy looked like he’d ran into a brick wall. He didn’t look ugly, per say, just… flat.

 Phil turned to the next page, drew out another oval to act as his guide, and then turned around, looking at the boy while pretending to be looking at the clock. He was very convincing, too. However, there was no clock on the wall.

 But the boy was new, he didn’t have to know that.

 By the end of class, Phil had made four different drawings of him, all of them barely recognizable. The last one was more accurate, though it still wasn’t quite there.

 Phil closed his notebook as the bell rang, sighing as someone taped his shoulder. “Here’s your pen back.”

 Phil took it, and took the opportunity to look at the boys face again, trying to find where his features lines up with his guidelines. “You’re new, right?”

 “Um, yeah.” When he smiled, little dimples formed on the sides of his cheeks. “I transferred from AHS. I’m Dan.”

 “I’m Phil. Could I take a picture of you?”

 “Um, what?”

 “I’m in Photography,” Phil quickly lied, the muscles in his face hurting from the effort of smiling. “We just needed to take a picture of someone for a warm up.”

 “Oh, I’m in Photography too!” Phil tried not to let his panic show through. “And sure, I guess. As long as it’s not for a big project or anything, I don’t really want to see my face framed in the middle of the hallway or anything.”

 Phil smiled, grabbing his phone and clicking the video button. “Don’t worry about it.”

 He kept the video recording for just long enough to catch Dan’s dimple on camera before turning off his phone and stuffing it in his bag.

———

 Dan’s nose was practically perfect. It was very proportionate to his face. The problem Phil had been running into, Phil later found out, was his eyes. Dan’s eyes were more almond shaped, with discreet eyelids. Phil had been emphasizing his eyelids too much.

 That night, in his room, Phil played the video over an over, screenshotting it at the best moments. Then he pulled out a piece of drawing paper and sketched out his face, this time with a reference picture, and kept erasing and adding to it until it was clear who the subject was.

 The paper still felt too empty, so Phil sketched in some flowers around his head. He got his blending stump and darkened his cheeks, making it look like he was lightly blushing. “Yes, very kawaii,” Phil muttered.

 That would be his project. And Dan would be his subject.

 Though he’d have to get Dan to agree to it first. Because unlike Photography warm ups, this project would actually be hung up in the school hallway.

———

 “Hey Dan!” Phil called out, jogging up next to Dan in the hallway. He turned around, smiling a little uncomfortably.

 “Hey...”

 “Phil,” Phil reminded him.

 “Right, I knew that. Hey Phil.”

 Phil would do one of the paintings with Dan laying in coffee beans. He would still do the flower one, but each painting would have a different background, Phil decided, all very soft, aesthetic things. Dan seemed very soft and aesthetic, even though he was wearing all black. Phil bet he ran a pastel tumblr blog.

 Dan turned to head towards one of his classes, and Phil kept in tow with him, even though his class was on the other side of the school. “So, I was wondering. We have this project—”

 “In Photography?” Dan finished. “The rule of thirds thing?”

 “Um, no. In ADAPA-”

 “What?”

 “It’s, um, Advanced Art Design and Presentation but the letters are in the wrong order because AADP doesn’t roll of the tongue that easily. I’m doing this subject series, where I paint a person a few times. It’s very low key, and I was just wondering if I could paint you.”

 Dan stopped in front of one of the English classes, giving Phil a weird look. “Why?”

 “I dunno. Why not?”

 Dan considered this. “Wouldn’t that be weird? You, just… painting like, two pictures of me?”

 Phil didn’t correct him. “Nah, it’s pretty normal. Everyone in ADAPA is doing this project, so you won’t be the only subject or anything.”

 Dan hesitated, squeezing the strap of his backpack.

 “I’ll just need to take a few pictures of you. And I’ll pay you fifteen pounds,” he added.

 Dan glanced into the classroom, still hesitating. “Only if you let me take a picture of you for the photography project,” he conceded, “and help me with the camera. They wouldn’t let me in the Beginning Photography class because I’m a senior, so I kinda lied about my skills. And since you’re in Photography too…” he trailed off, looking hopeful.

 “Sure, no problem.” Phil hadn’t touched a camera since 6th grade. “Here, let me give you my phone number so we can set it up.”

 “Great.” Dan’s cheeks were the same shade as they’d been in Phil’s drawing, only Phil’s drawing was in black and white. In real life, Dan was in full, vivid color.

———————-

 “Are you okay?” Phil asked with a comforting smile, leading Dan up the stairs to his room. “You look kind of pale.”

 Dan ran a hand through his curly mocha hair— it was mocha, Phil had decided— following him up the stairs. “I’m fine. I walked past the bakery on Main and it was closed. Do you think anything happened?”

 Phil shrugged, leading him into his room. His dirty laundry was kicked into a corner by his bed, which was little more than a cheap box frame and small mattress. Most of the room was taken up by his art supplies, paint splattered tarp spread out underneath his desk and two easels. Notebooks and canvases sat in piles along the wall, some blank, others completely filled, mostly with paint.

 “Wow,” Dan commented as he looked around. “You're a very convincing artist.”

 Phil laughed. “What else would I be? Do I look like a sportsman to you?”

 Dan looked him up and down, biting his lip. “No. But the tarps do suggest you may be a serial killer.”

 “Well, I'm not. Unless you consider killing trees as being a serial killer. With all the supplies and paper I use, I'm probably one of the leading causes of deforestation.”

 Dan snorted. “Nice.”

 Phil found his phone, waving it triumphantly. “Got it. Let's go take some pictures?”

 “Sure.”

 “Come on. The basement has really good lighting.” Phil lead him downstairs, the silence getting awkward quickly. “What was that you were saying earlier? About… the cake shop on Main?”

“The bakery. It was closed. Do you think it could have been the same thing that happened with the funeral home?”

 Phil sighed. “I hope not. I hated it enough the first time.”

 “Right? I hope the police find whoever is doing it and lock them up for life. I don’t care if Mrs. Roes will recover, it’s not fucking okay.”

 Phil glanced back at Dan who was following him tensely, his arms crossed. “You good?”

 “‘M fine. It’s just frustrating, it’s like, what are we supposed to do about it, you know?”

 Phil knew what he meant, he did. But he was more focused on the way Dan’s features curled when he was frustrated, the way his eyes changed with intensity. Dan looked angry and helpless at the same time and it was so contradictory, Phil had to do one of the paintings with this expression. He’d paint it so Dan was surrounded by blooming flowers and scowling like they did something to personally offend him.

———

 Phil didn’t make a habit of lying, but he found himself lying to Dan almost as often as he told him the truth. Dan sat down on the couch and Phil adjusted his phone lense until it was just right, then pressed the record button.

 “Let me know when you’re taking a picture,” Dan requested, squeezing his hands.

 Phil nodded. “Three, two, one…” He twitched his thumb, pretending to touch the screen. Dan smiled falsely, holding it for a few moments then breaking it.

 “So natural,” Phil commented from behind the camera. “Hey Dan, what do you call fake spaghetti?”

 “I don’t know, what?”

 “An im-pasta.”

 Dan laughed, smiling widely enough for both of his cheek dimples to be on full display, and Phil knew he was going to be screenshotting that later.

 “That’s horrible. Phil, what’s the difference between a snow-man and a snow-woman?” Dan waited a second for dramatic effect before answering: “Snowballs.”

 It was Phil’s turn to crack up, the phone shaking in his grip.

 “Hey, just take the pictures without telling me,” Dan decided. “Otherwise it’ll feel too fake.”

 “Okay, I’ll do that. Why did the farmer win an award?” Pause. “Because he was outstanding in his field.”

———

 “You certainly don’t waste your time,” Mr. Hebbs commented, peering over Phil’s shoulder. “Who’s that?”

 “He’s a new student,” Phil replied without looking up from his work. He was just adding the final touches to Dan’s painted face, carefully adding a highlight. “He’s in one of your photography classes.”

 “Oh. I suppose I’m just not used to seeing him with the flowers.” Mr. Hebbs scratched his jaw, thinking. “I would make sure to highlight the glabella,” he suggested after a moment.

 “The… what?”

 “The glabella. Right… here,” he said pointing to the space in between the painting’s eyebrows, careful not to touch it.

 Phil dabbed his brush back in the paint, adding some of it to the area Mr. Hebbs had been referring to.

 “How long are you planning on staying?”

 Phil glanced at the clock on the wall. It was already 2:50 and school got out at 3. “How long are you going to be here? I won’t need too much more time.”

 “I need to leave at the bell, but you can stay as long as you clean up, and turn off the lights and lock the door when your done. If anyone asks where I am—”

 “—I’ll just say you’re in the bathroom,” Phil finished, smiling down at his painting. “As per usual.”

 “Perfect.” The art teacher looked at the painting again, tilting his head to the side. “I’d add more lowlights to the hair too.”

 “Can do.”

———

 It happened again. Sometime that afternoon, a man had broken into the garden store a few blocks away from Phil’s neighborhood, brandishing a small handheld gun and demanding the cashier on duty give him everything in the till. The cashier went to get the code for the safe— apparently he wasn’t a very smart cashier— and the shooter opened fire. The gun only had a few rounds in it, but it was enough to shatter the front windows and stun the cashier.

Phil saw the destroyed storefront as he biked home from school, his completed painted sticking out of his book bag. The next morning, he listened as his mum read to him the article in their local paper describing the events.

 “‘We recommend all small shops in the downtown area invest in panic buttons and try to have more than one person on staff whenever possible. And, until this situation is under control, we ask that all students avoid walking or biking through town on the way home from school.’ Sorry Philly, it sounds like you’re going to have to find a new way home.”

 Phil slouched, cupping his cooling coffee in his hands. “Do I have to? We don’t know if they’re going to rob another shop.”

 “They’ve got a gun,” Kath reminded him. “And there’s already been four incidents now.”

 “They may not have all been the same person!” Phil argued, but it was futile. Kath shook her head.

 “I’m sorry, but it’s just not safe.”

———

Phil was wheeling his bike out from the rack when a familiar voice called out his name. He looked up and was met with an even more familiar face- one he’d studied and recreated a few times over various types of papers and a canvas.

 “Phil!” Dan called out again, jogging over, smiling widely.

 “Hey!” Phil called back when Dan got closer. “What’s up?”

 “Absolutely nothing,” Dan said easily, “Do you want to hang out? I’m biking home too.”

 Phil smiled back. “Sure! I have work soon-ish, but I can hang out until then.”

 “Nice.” Dan pulled out one of the bikes a few away from Phil, walking it around the rack. “Where do you work?”

 “Hobby Lobby. It’s not very exciting, but I do get a pretty good discount on art stuff.”

 “And you get money for art stuff,” Dan added. “I thought only professional artists used real canvases, aren’t they like, super expensive?”

 “To someone getting paid minimum wage? Yes. But they’re not that bad.” Phil mounted his bicycle, buckling his helmet on under his chin. Dan got on his own bike, except was missing something vital.

 “No helmet?”

 “I’m not seven,” he teased. “No offense.”

 “None taken. Because unlike you, I’m not going to crack my head open on the concrete and die before I can even graduate secondary school.”

 An image flashed before Phil’s eyes of Dan laying on the pavement with a perfect stream of blood coming down from his temple. For a moment, he really wanted to paint it, before he realized that was probably not the appropriate reaction. He shook the thought away.

 “Ooh, fighting words,” Dan teased as they carefully pedaled away from the school. “Do you wanna race?”

 The image flashed before Phil’s eyes again, except this time Dan was smiling, his lip bloodied. Imagination-Dan winked at him.

 “You’re on,” Phil responded to Real Life Dan, the one that had just challenged him to a race. “After this street, we race until we get to the park, deal?”

“Deal.”

 As soon as they crossed the street, Dan took off, speeding down the way. Phil pushed harder, pounding at the pedals until he was almost in line with Dan. Dan glanced behind him, and upon seeing Phil, laughed, pushing to go even faster.

 “Slow down! Let me— let me pass!”

 Dan let his feet up from the pedals, the wheels still spinning at about 200 rotations a minute as he thundered down the street. Phil kept pushing until he was side by side with Dan, the park within view.

 Then Dan’s feet hit the pedals again and it was all over.

———

 Phil arranged the canvases in the way they’d be set up once he was done. They were all slightly different sizes and lined up perfectly with about two centimeters between each one, so they ended up as a large square shaped collage. Only one was done so far, the one with the flowers. It had Dan with his head slightly tilted, looking off to the side with his lips pressed closed. Dan’s skin ended up a little paler than it was in real life, with his cheeks and lips a little extra pink to complement the flowers. His hair was softer looking than real life, the individual hairs not emphasized. All in all, he looked more like a porcelain doll than Phil had intended, but he wasn’t one to complain.

 Phil typed up the card for it:

Phil Lester Subject Series: Ethereal (adj): extremely delicate and light in a way that seems too perfect for this world.

 One down, four to go.

———

 Phil waited for most of the students to leave the classroom, looking out for one in particular. But soon no one else really seemed to be leaving, so Phil shuffled over to the door, peeking in carefully like he was doing something he could get in trouble for. In reality, the only person he could actually get in trouble with was Mr. Hebbs, for leaving his independent study early to walk to the other side of the school. Except Mr. Hebbs didn’t care about things like that, so really, Phil’s caution was very unnecessary.

 A few people remained in the class, putting away props or talking in small groups. Phil scanned it until he saw the familiar black shirt and brown hair. He hadn’t ever draw Dan from this perspective before- well actually, he’d really only drawn his portrait. Phil could do one where Dan’s arms were crossed in front and his back was bare. Backs were so cool to draw.

 But that might look like Phil was looking for an excuse to draw Dan shirtless, which was not a normal friend thing to do, so he scrapped the idea.

 (That was a lie. He actually put it in the ‘Work In Progress’ folder in his brain.)

 The group Dan was talking to dispersed, and he looked down at his phone, completely oblivious to Phil creeping up behind him.

 “Rah!”

 Dan stumbled forwards, fumbling with his phone. When he met Phil’s gaze, his eyes were wide. “Phi-il!”

 Phil stuck out his tongue as he laughed. “You voice just went up, like, two octaves!”

 Dan brushed off his pants dramatically, not smiling, but not quite scowling either. “What do you want, pleb, now that you almost made me piss myself.”

 Phil was still smiling. “You biking home? We could go together, you could come over if you want. It’s a lot more boring biking now that I have to go the long way around town.”

 “I should shun you for scaring me like that. Alas, you still owe me fifteen pounds, so I shall wait until I’ve been paid to shun you.”

 “Fifteen pounds?”

 Dan smiled. “For modeling for you,” he said sweetly, pushing his curly fringe out of his face flirtatiously.

 “So you’re not just doing that out of the goodness of your heart?” Phil joked.

 “The goodness of my heart?” Dan scoffed. “Nonsense! I’ll have you know, Lester, that my heart is made out of pure coal.”

 “Right. So, are you biking with me or not?”

 “It depends. Do you have the money?”

 “At home,” Phil promised, then cringed. “This feels dirty. Like you’re my drug dealer or something.”

 “Daniel?” The teacher called out from behind her desk. “Are you leaving now?” A quick scan around confirmed that besides the teacher, they were the only ones left in the class.

 “Oh, yes, sorry!” Dan rushed over to grab his backpack and he and Phil sped-walked out of the class. When Phil looked at Dan next, his cheeks were the same color as the tulips Kath liked to keep on their kitchen table, or #15 in his acrylic set. “Oops.”

———

 They rode their bikes back to Phil’s house, then played video games there until Dan had to go home. He said a polite hello to Kath on his way out, and gave Phil a little wave goodbye.

 “Who was that?” Kath asked after Dan had left.

 Phil smiled casually. “That’s Dan, he’s a new student at school. I’m doing a painting project with him- well, of him.”  

 “Oh, what will it look like?”

 “A few different pictures of him with different backgrounds that represent him. It’ll be mostly really soft pastel things.”

 Kath looked back at the door even though Dan was long gone. “Huh. He didn’t really strike me as soft, especially with all that black.” Phil was about to argue when she cut him off. “But you’re the artist, do whatever you think would look best.”

———

 Phil had set up his phone when Dan had left to go to the bathroom. The video was only four minutes long, but it had some good moments in it. Phil had stationed his phone under the tv so it filmed their faces straight on. He paused it a few times, screenshotting, until he got to the perfect point.

 Phil stared at the image for a few moments. No. He couldn’t.

 The picture was of Dan biting the video game controller, his competitiveness getting the best of him. Originally, he’d bitten the controller as a way to make fun of Phil’s habit of doing just that when the game got too stressful, but before long he was doing it without realizing it. The shot was very, very real, very candid, very original. It was also not pastel.

 Oh well. Surely, Phil could put some sort of spin on it so it’d fit his theme. He wanted these painting to really represent Dan’s personality, that soft side he’d seen earlier in the day when the teacher embarrassed him. The real Dan.

 He pulled out canvas number two and got ready to go to work.

———

 Another store was broken into, though this time the criminal left without stealing anything. Phil didn’t bother reading the full article, scanning for the important parts. He’d have to continue taking the long way home, and the small store owners downtown would have to continue spending their money on security that shouldn’t be needed instead of more important things. The identity of the shooter remained unknown.

 “I hate this,” Dan ranted, dumping out the dirty water with so much force that Phil almost felt the need to protect his canvas. “How dare they? I heard that it might be more than one person doing it, too.”

 “Like, a gang?”

 Dan scowled, shaking his head. “Worse. People saw one person doing it and getting away with it, plus getting a bunch of media coverage. It’s a low life’s dream.”

 “I heard there’s going to be a protest later,” Phil recalled. “A bunch of the business owners are marching down to the police station and asking them why they aren’t doing more.”

 “Meanwhile, people are in the hospital, and the government hasn’t even mentioned it.” Dan sighed, rubbing his hands on his pants. “I don’t hate the government or anything, but they’re completely pointless if they’re idle. There are people out there with guns, literally shooting people and causing chaos, and our leaders are silent.”

———

 The second painting took longer to make. Phil wanted this one more realistic and it as harder to paint the way Dan was biting the controller.

 When it was done, he typed up the description on the document with the other one:

Phil Lester Subject Series: Zealous (adj.): having great energy or enthusiasm in pursuit of a cause or an objective.

———

 “We don’t think that there will be any attempted robberies on our store, armed or otherwise,” the balding manager explained. “However, it is important to go over procedures like these from time to time. If an armed robber enters the store and demands money, we ask that you are complacent. There is a panic button under each of the registers that you can press, which will alert the police station.”

 “Will an alarm sound?”

 The officer standing next to the manager adjusted her ponytail. “No. The panic button won’t set off any alarms or give you away.”

 Someone directly behind Phil spoke up, startling him slightly. “Has a panic button ever worked?”

 The officer smiled reassuringly. “They haven’t been used much in our city, but earlier this week one was pressed by mistake, so we are assured that they work just fine.”

 Phil’s phone buzzed in his pocket and he slipped it out, checking the screen.

 From: Dan  Do you wanna hang out Saturday?

 From: Phil  I thought you had work?

 From: Dan  Lol  I was fired

 From: Phil  Why???

 From: Dan  …  They didn’t like the way I dusted  We on for Saturday??

 From: Phil  Sure

———

 “It’s perfect. Phil, can you help me get the camera ready? I want to take your picture under the cherry blossom tree.”

 Phil made a face. It turned out Dan hadn’t just intended to make Phil pay him for his ‘modeling’, but planned to make Phil follow through with the entire deal. That meant Phil had to be the model for a change, so Dan could take pictures of him for his art project, in the advanced photography class Dan was underqualified for. And Phil had to help him use the camera, because, oh right, Phil had lied to him about being in a photography class too. Phil couldn’t even remember why he lied, but he did, and now he was eating his words.

 They went up to the tree and Dan inspected it with a critical gaze. Phil did too, but for a different reason. “No way this is a cherry blossom tree. Do those even grow here?”

 Dan shrugged, tilting his head to the side as he looked at the tree. “I don’t know what it is, but here it is. Can you stand by the trunk?”

 Phil stood by the trunk and Dan handed him the camera expectantly. Phil fiddled with it, pretending that he knew what he was doing, though he probably wasn’t very convincing, as it took him about three minutes to realize the reason nothing was showing up on the screen was because the lense cap was still on.

 After at least another ten minutes, they had the camera working and adjusted to the sunlight.

 “What was the assignment again?” Phil asked, getting progressively more nervous the more Dan fiddled with the camera.

 “Rule of thirds or something, idk. I’m pretty sure it’s just making sure you have three focal points, which I have. You, the tree trunk, and the flowers.”

 Phil shuffled uncomfortably. He may not have held a camera since sixth grade, but the rule of thirds was not exclusive to Photography. “I think you’re thinking about something else. The rule of thirds is where the subject of the art only takes up one third of the space.”

 Dan looked up from the camera, genuinely surprised. “Oh. I guess I’ll have to back up then.” He ducked under the drooping ribbons of pink flowers and Phil listened to his footsteps walks away, chewing on his lip nervously.

 “Should I come out, or—?”

 “No, that’s perfect! Move your feet together!”

 Phil did as he was told. He stood so his feet were almost together, with both of his hands hanging limply by his side. He tried to make a normal face, though he wasn’t sure how Dan could see him through the thick flowers.

 After a long minute, Dan exclaimed “Got it!”

 Phil happily ducked under the flowery branches, meeting Dan on the other side where he showed him the viewfinder of the camera. Phil blinked. “It’s…”

 “It’s cool, right? I feel so hipster and artsy.”

 “It’s cool,” Phil agreed, still taking it in. The picture didn’t have his face- in fact, it hardly had his torso at all. The picture showed the entirety of the blossom tree, framed on either sky with an intense blue sky, darker than normal as the sun just barely began to set. Underneath trees flowers were Phil’s legs with his hands on either side. “Yeah. I like it a lot.”

 Dan smiled widely, taking the camera back and flipping through the pictures. “Thanks! I’ll have to choose my favorite one and then edit it, which I don’t actually know how to do-”

 “Hey Dan?”

 “Hmm?”

 “Can I see the camera for a second?”

 Dan gave him a curious look but handed it over. Phil messed with it for a second before finding the off switch and putting it back in its case, carefully hiding in in his backpack he’d left on the grass.

 “Phil-”

 Phil looked up, giving Dan a small, almost sad smile. “Hey Dan?”

 Dan swallowed. “Yeah?”

 “You’re it!” Phil clumsily tapped Dan on the shoulder, sprinting past him.

 Dan was so shocked it took him a moment to react. “What! Lester!”

 Phil laughed, trying to run faster, but within moments Dan was gaining. “How are you so fast?! On a bike is one thing, but-” Phil cut himself off with an annoyed noise as Dan smacked him on the arm, turning and sprinting in the other direction. “Agh!”

 Dan’s laugh echoed as he ran away, Phil in hot pursuit. “You’ll never catch me! I am the jolteon of humans!”

 Phil cupped his hands around his mouth as he yelled “Nerd!”

 Dan turned, running along the edge of a small grassy hill. “Slowpoke!”

 Phil forced himself to run even faster, despite his aching lungs. He refused to lose to Dan again.

 He swiped at Dan, mumbling in annoyance when he missed. Dan cackled, turning his head to look back at Phil. He turned back and immediately stumbled, tripping and rolling. Phil tried to stop so quickly he ended up stumbling over the same rock and found himself toppling down the hill, the entire world becoming a blur of grass and sky. He’d seen photos that people had taken as then rolled down grassy hills like this one, and for the first time in a long time, he found the urge to get into photography again.

 He gave up trying to slow his descent and gave in, tucking his arms in to protect his face and letting his body speed up.

 There was the blue and there was the green, the green that was the true definition of ‘grassy green’ and Phil had never thought it was that nice of a color but it really was. Then there was the slight dizziness, and the unmistakable sound of Dan laughing, and Phil found himself not minding the downhill lull anymore.

 He slowed to a stop as the hill flattened out. One more half roll and he was face to face with Dan, laying on the soft ground with grass in his hair, trying to hide his wide smile with his hands.

 Phil didn’t even try to hide his smile, rolling over a little and tapping Dan lightly. “You’re it.”

———

 The painting showed Dan with grass in his hair, grinning from ear to ear as the bright blue sky blurred behind him.

Celeste (adj): belonging or relating to heaven.

———

 Phil pushed the door open hesitantly, looking around. As soon as they heard the door open, a large woman hurried over to the sandwich counter. “Hi, how can I help you?”

 Dan followed Phil in, both still looking around. “Um, hi, are you open?”

 “We are. Though we haven’t been getting much traffic lately.”

 “Since the shootings,” Dan translated grimly.

 She nodded solemnly. “Unfortunately. But the sandwiches are as good as ever, what can I get for you?”

 They ordered, paying individually then going to table to eat their sandwiches. “I’m getting closer to finishing the paintings,” Phil announced. “The theme I was going for was kind of lost, but I think it will still be fine. What’d… the Photography teacher say about the cherry blossom picture?”

 Dan had just taken a huge bite of his sandwich right before Phil asked him, and he made a face, trying to swallow it but failing to. “She liked it,” he answered when he’d gotten most of it down. He wiped his mouth, swallowing again. “She wants to hang it in one of the hallways for the rest of the semester.”

 Phil choked on his sandwich. “Actually?”

 Dan smirked. “Literally all you can see of you is your legs and hands. And it’s a good picture, you shouldn’t be self conscious.”

 “But still… I don’t know how I feel about my picture being in the hallway.”

 Dan leaned on his elbow, smiling at Phil a little too sweetly. “Mr. Hebbs was setting up the folding panels to display your classes latest project on. Which I believe is the Subject Series, with my face in literally every single painting of yours.”

 “Oh.”

 “It’s fine. You can hang up my pictures if I can hang up yours.”

 “Deal.”

 They talked for a little longer until they finished their sandwiches and brought the wrappers to the trash. The woman from earlier came over, wiping down the table. “Thanks,” Phil said. “The sandwiches were great.”

 “I’m glad you liked them!”

 “Do you mind if we hang out here for a while?” Dan asked, looking around. Besides the sandwich counter, there were a few rows of shelves with different fancy looking foods stacked on it.

 “Go for it, I’ll just be cleaning up back here but if you need anything, let me know! My name’s Bertha.”

 They looked around for a while. There was a shelf full of fancy olives that they looked at, making fun of the names and trying to make bad innuendos with some of them.

 “Extra stuffed. Mmm.”

 Phil shoved him gently, smiling. “What about this one? ‘Chopped red’.”

 Dan shivered, “it sounds like a murder scene.”

 “Did I show you that thing?” Phil wondered aloud.

 “‘That thing?’”

 “The… goose thing? Here, I’ll show you.” Phil pulled up the article on his phone, handing it over to Dan who began to read it quietly. It was so quiet that when the door opened, they both heard it clearly.

 Loud footsteps and then the sound of something being dropped on the counter. “Anyone there?” A gruff male voice said.

 “I’ll be right there!” Bertha replied, hurrying over. “What can I-” she stopped mid sentence.

 Phil peered through the wire shelves, trying to see what was happening. There was another row of shelves between them and the other customer, making it difficult, and even when Phil managed to see through them, it took a moment to process. He’d seen guns on tv, and he’d seen bigger guns carried by police in other countries, but it was the first one he’d ever seen in England. It was so small, so unassuming, but still it made Bertha’s smile drop and the color from her face drain. He gestured towards his bag and she opened the cash register, slowly moving the money into his bag. There wasn’t much there.

 Phil tapped Dan urgently, covering his mouth for a second when Dan opened it to say something. He pointed to what was happening, and watched as Dan went from confusion to shock to something else.

 The man turned around, walking over to the shelves where they were hidden. Phil gestured for them to crouch. That was what you were always supposed to do, you were supposed to crouch, make yourself smaller, do your best to hide. Escape if you could, but if that wasn’t an option, then learn to breathe a little quieter.

 And Dan, poor Dan. Poor pastel-souled, gentle Dan, with his soft curls and brushed pink cheeks. He stared at the man through the shelves intensely, not even blinking. He held his phone so tightly his knuckles were white.

 The man was less than a meter from them. Phil squeezed his eyes shut, staying perfectly still as the steps got closer. A small gun and an even smaller bullet and just like that, it would all be over.

 But the bullet didn’t come. Phil opened his eyes and immediately caught onto the dirty jeans on the other side of the shelf. He hadn’t seen them.

 Dan nudged him, making intense eye contact and holding a finger in front of his own mouth, then he stood. Phil tried to pull him back down, but Dan just carefully stepped away, knowing Phil wouldn’t dare make a noise at a time like this.

 “That’s all there is,” Bertha announced in a monotone. The man turned around quickly and for a moment Dan was frozen. Then he kept moving, walking slowly to the side of the shelves.

 “You think I’m fucking stupid? Where’s the rest?”

 “There isn’t any—”

 The man pointed the gun straight through the shelf, right at her. “I know how these businesses work. There’s always a safe.”

 Bertha was a statue. “There isn’t a safe. Or if there is, I don’t know where it is, I’m new—” the man cocked the gun and Bertha became more desperate. “Honest! I have money, I’ll get you that, but there isn’t—”

 “Get me your money. All of it. Then we’ll take a look around and see if we can find the safe, and you’d better hope we can.” He brought the gun back down, but didn’t put it away.

 Phil didn’t dare turn around, but he could feel Dan standing next to him, as still as a statue. The man turned around, picking something up off of the shelf, and that’s when Dan made his move.

 He walked forwards quickly, raising his phone in his hand and slamming it down on the man’s head. He stumbled forwards, more annoyed than hurt, and Dan jumped on his back, wrapping an arm around his throat. Then it was all a blur- the man yelled out, Bertha was calling 999, the man lifted the gun, Phil stood up, Dan grabbed a can of extra stuffed and broke it over his head. The gun went off, another broken jar of olives to the man’s face, there was a fight and it didn’t seem anyone was winning and then they toppled into the first metal shelf and five dozen jars of fancy sandwich toppings rained down on them, followed by the shelf. They fell to the ground, crushed under the heavy shelf. Then Dan was free and the man was almost free, but Dan had an aluminum can of something in his shaking hands that he brought down on the man’s head with a “Fuck! You!”

 Then there was the police and Dan was in handcuffs and the man was unconscious and Phil was still just standing there.

———

 Phil had finished all five of the paintings.

 They were completed, all with their printed out labels. The hallway was quiet as Phil carefully hung them on the folding platform, arranged just as he’d planned from the beginning. There was the Ethereal painting with soft, porcelain Dan; the zealous painting with Dan gnawing on the gaming control; and the celestial painting, with a smiling Dan laying at the bottom of that hill with grass in his mocha curls.

 Then there were the two other paintings, the newer ones. The fourth painting was a side profile of Dan with shadows covering half of his face. The side of his face that could be see was deathly intense, a somber anger that Phil had failed to identify that day in the sub shop. That painting was tilted Undaunted (adj): not intimidated or discouraged by difficulty, danger, or disappointment.

 The final painting was of Dan a week after the incident. They were walking along an empty school hallway after class had ended. Dan was wearing a black hoodie, his hands in his pockets. He stood tall with a confidence that Phil supposed was always there, but he’d never really noticed. The painting was from the front perspective, with Dan smiling that smile he only really gave to Phil, his head tilted to the side.

 Dan had been walking beside him, maybe a little in front. He turned around, giving Phil that fond smile. “I feel like you have the wrong idea of me. Like, you think I’m this shy, timid person or something, or like I’m really innocent or soft or something.”

 Dan hadn’t gotten in trouble for attacking the man with the gun. He’d been told he should’ve avoided confrontation if possible, but he didn’t get in trouble with anyone besides his mom, who’d given him a ‘stern talking to’.

 Phil had wiped his hands on his shirt. “I don't think that,” he lied. Sometimes it seemed as though he only lied around Dan.

 “Okay. Just checking.”

 Phil adjusted the last canvas, the painting from that day.

 Enigmatic (adj): difficult to interpret or understand.

 He stepped back, admiring his work. It was the first time he’d seen them all together. Ethereal, zealous, celestial, undaunted, enigmatic. Soft, competitive, radiant, unyielding, mysterious.

 Mr. Hebbs came up beside him, admiring the work with a quiet appreciation. Phil crossed his arms, feeling the exhaustion from the last few weeks finally set it.

 “He looks so different in each one,” Mr. Hebbs commented quietly. “Which one is he really?”

 Phil looked at each painting again, individually. Soft, competitive, radiant, unyielding, mysterious.

 He sniffled. “I don’t know.”

  The End.

[rebels-advocate-blog]

fbi: don’t move

hOwDy hO, hErE wE gO

Ivan is a completely ordinary, totally unassuming, simple meme-loving guy, and Alfred is the FBI agent who secretly lives in his camera. Governments and grudges are thrown aside as chance encounters in Washington D.C. bring them closer and closer together.

read it with your own eyes on fanfiction.net!

read it with your own eyes on archive of our own!

or, just scroll down a bit and read the first chapter right here! (with stolen eyes)

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fbi: don’t move

Ivan laughed, which was to say he snorted very, very lightly. Even snorting was an overstatement; a silent wisp of breath escaped him as he swiped away at his screen, liking the photo and commenting: LOLOKOLKOLOLOL1!1! He switched gears to search up the hashtag under the meme, something he almost never did, and found a semi-sorted collection of posts following the same theme. He wasted no time screenshotting a few of his favorites to pirate for himself later.

Soon. Soon he would break 999K followers. And then, and then. Then he would have a million followers. A million was a lot, depending on who you asked. Beyoncé only had fifteen million—at least on Twitter. (On Instagram she had eleven hundred million.) He wanted to rule the Internet.

Ivan turned his phone off and threw it across the bed, forcing himself to get up and move if he wanted to retrieve it. Stretching languidly, he rolled out of the warmth of the covers and faced the day.

He dressed in comfortable, durable clothes; Ivan had recently secured a position as a horticulturist for the Smithsonian Gardens along the National Mall, which was a fancy way of saying he cut grass and trimmed hedges all day, except it was really nice grass and they were really nice hedges. Obviously, wearing his favorite scarf was less than ideal for the sweaty work, but Ivan would never and could never take it off. He slipped into his boots and thrust a spare pair of gloves into his pocket. Sadly, he couldn't use his phone on the job, but he could use headphones. He began to hum to himself, imagining the songs he would listen to on his first shift.

Before shoving his phone into his bag, Ivan took a glance at the blank screen. A strange feeling overcame him as his eyes drifted upwards, making contact with the minuscule blue dots of light inside his camera lens. He held its gaze for a brief, piqued interest that lasted about two seconds, then giggled. "Goodbye, Mr. FBI," he sang to himself.

It was silly. He dropped the phone into his bag and left his apartment with haste.

.

Alfred grabbed street food on the way to work, washing it down with a hefty Starbucks to go. Whipping the shades off from overtop his regular glasses, he strode into headquarters. Immediately, he had to give up his meal so it could be scanned for toxins while he himself was stripped and searched. Elizabeta Héderváry, chief of the gray division, took an eternity to scrutinize Alfred's badge. Alfred tapped his toes and fidgeted to himself. Predictably, Ivan would be online in seven minutes. "Alright, Jones." She handed back Alfred's ID. "You're clear. But don't let me catch you in here again, or it's straight to the slammer." She drew a line across her throat.

Alfred gratefully collected his food and his badge. "Wait, what the? Dude, I work here!"

She stared him down.

Alfred, without hesitation, steadied himself and stared back.

After a few seconds of silence, Chief Héderváry burst into hearty laughter. "I'm only testing you, kid! I guess it's very Gilbert of me. But gosh, you would have thought I had just admitted to you that the tooth fairy isn't real, or that Santa is Illuminati propaganda, or that JFK is still alive up on a secret moon base in space...oops." She covered her mouth. "I've said too much."

Alfred blinked slowly. "Okay. I'll just...get to work then, um, before you zap me and wipe my memory."

The agent nodded. "Better bolt. Gotta keep you on your feet." She then began drawing her stun gun, but Alfred had already disappeared down the hall. He frantically dove into an arriving elevator and jammed a finger down on the button to close the doors as the clunky boots of the Héderváry's footsteps came closer. Alfred hugged his food to his chest and pressed into the corner of the tiny metal box. He had had his memory wiped before, he was certain, and had even had to do it to others once or twice—it was a ghastly, abominable experience. The chief's image appeared between the elevator's two closing doors and Alfred screamed, but when the shot was fired the elevator had already begun its descent.

Alfred shivered, cradling himself. He was safe for now. He dug into his food and snuck out a bite of greasy fry. It would be two hundred more dings of the elevator before he arrived at the secret underground black zone where all the FBI agents monitored their respecting, (un)suspecting citizens.

Alfred had finished half of his coffee before he made it to the negative two hundredth floor. It was pretty swampy down there, due to the thick consistency of cubicles, the heat coming off of so much compressed technology, and also due to the government having concealed the fact that, yes, Washington D.C. had really been built atop a swamp. He had his semi-greasy fingerprints scanned a second time and then navigated the maze toward his cubicle. He only had two minutes at best before Ivan came home.

Ivan was Alfred's monitor man, Alfred's subject of spy. Alfred had Ivan's schedule practically burned into his brain: he woke up at six-thirty, dabbled on his phone for fifteen minutes, then put it in his pocket and didn't use it again until four, when he got off work. Ivan did not have a computer, making Alfred's hacking tasks both easier and harder by reserving everything to Ivan's cell phone. Alfred would transfer Ivan's morning visuals to Alfred's own laptop to monitor in the morning, and Alfred usually came to headquarters to watch Ivan during the rest of his day. Sometimes he took shifts with another agent, but lately Alfred had been finding himself at headquarters more and more. After all, it was important to develop a deep understanding of your subject, even if your subject had no idea you even existed.

Alfred fired up his special, government-issued laptop, opening the monitor. Just in time, too; Ivan's face soon filled the screen. Alfred sighed. It was on.

Alfred knew almost everything about Ivan. His names (Ivan "Vanya" Braginsky), his family (one older sister and one younger sister), and even the songs he sang in the shower (surprisingly a lot of Taylor Swift). Alfred knew Ivan was the head of a semi-famous online meme domain. Alfred knew Ivan watered the sunflowers in his window every day as soon as he came home. Alfred knew Ivan didn't have many friends. Alfred knew Ivan had long, red scars circling around his neck, hidden under that huge off-white scarf he always wore. Alfred knew Ivan liked soft things and had five blankets on his bed. Alfred also knew that Ivan was at the top of the FBI's list of suspected dangerous Russian intelligence agents, and it was Alfred's duty to report any fishy activity. So far, Alfred had observed none.

Other than the fact that Alfred had to be constantly alert in his job, monitoring Ivan was pretty easy. Ivan had a cute face, and often made little childish noises and expressions whenever he saw something that grabbed his attention. Alfred had trained in the Russian language for years and still couldn't capture the melodiousness of Ivan's murmurs to himself. Sometimes Ivan would be scrolling through social media at night and fall asleep on his phone, which was annoying but undeniably adorable. And he was an immigrant; Alfred could damn well appreciate the hard work it must have taken Ivan to leave his homeland and adjust to life here.

However, this morning, Ivan had addressed Alfred personally, saying "Goodbye, Mr. FBI" before he put his phone away, and that had been hella creepy.

Ivan wasn't saying anything now, just staring at the screen, his eyelids half-shut, eyes moving in line formation over whatever he was reading. Alfred took a sip of his Starbucks and tapped into Ivan's phone display, bringing up a rectangle of white with a thick block of Helvetica text. Alfred's eyes scanned it himself, knowing it was another online post, and Alfred had read thousands of Ivan's. They were quality. When he finished laughing, he switched focus back to Ivan's camera visual; the ceiling behind Ivan was moving as Ivan sat down at his kitchen table. Ivan picked at his lip, snorting a little. The sound of his bags hitting the floor echoed to Alfred, and soon Ivan began humming a sweet song.

Alfred kicked back in his ultra-comfort wheely chair and popped in another fry, enjoying the music. He had no reason to feel so comfortable in the artificial presence of a creepy Russian, yet his wariness was drowned out by tribute for the memes. And Ivan's face. Thank god Ivan at least had a nice face that Alfred got to stare at all evening.

There was a knock on the wall of Alfred's cubicle. He spun around too quickly in the wheely chair and had to overcorrect, graciously spilling a couple of fries into his lap. "Whaddya want?"

It was Toris. A fellow FBI monitor, the long-haired Lithuanian stood stiff in the doorway to Alfred's workspace, making more eye contact with Alfred's inspirational NASA star map poster than with Alfred. "Hi. Um, Felicks went to the bathroom, so I was going to be taking break, and if I remember correctly, you told me to 'mosey on over when you get a chance, because I got the goods?'"

"Aw yeah!" Alfred pushed down his laptop screen so it was at a forty-five degree angle. Toris knew who Ivan was, and sometimes covered Alfred's shifts when Alfred stayed up too late playing video games or reading Marvel fanfiction, but Alfred still didn't want to be interrupted on the job. After all, both Ivan's screen and his camera were blank and black; he must have gone to take his daily shower. "Right here, man. Check it out. They were handin' them out all down the Mall, and I managed to snag a few extras!"

Toris took the item in his hand and inspected it cautiously. "This is a…a SAVE THE WHALES sticker?"

"No, a SAVE THE WHALES magnet!" Alfred corrected, spinning it over. "I thought you might want one, since your space is so plain and boring and all. It'd give you something to look at other than Felicks's fancy skirt collection, or whatever."

The tips of Toris's ears turned red. "They're designer." Yet he didn't refuse the magnet.

Not every FBI monitor happened to be stationed in the vicinity of their subject; Felicks lived halfway across the world from Toris, and was an alleged underground market weapons dealer, with emphasis on alleged. Mostly he just took selfies in the bathtub and embarrassed Toris to no end. Alfred considered himself lucky that Ivan was only half a city away, though they had yet to cross paths in public.

Toris drifted out with the magnet in hand and Alfred was left to finish dinner in peace. He flipped his screen back up and found that Ivan was at the stove, cooking his own meal while watching a Vine compilation. Alfred grinned, keeping up both the front camera and screen views as he dug in so he could laugh along with Ivan. "I smell like beef." A long time passed. They finished eating their dinners at the same time; Alfred imagined the noodle casserole thing Ivan had cooked tasted better than Alfred's weak Starbucks.

Now Ivan had set his phone against the wall to rest while he washed the dishes. He was mumbling peacefully to himself again, but Alfred couldn't tell if he was singing or talking over the sound of swishing water and clinking silverware. After a couple more plates, Ivan's movements slowed, and his gaze slowly climbed back up to the phone screen. The phone camera. "Are you there, Mr. FBI?" he whispered.

Alfred jolted in his seat. It was just like this morning! No warning, no nothing. In English! There was no way Ivan could ever know, of course, that he was being monitored, so the sudden unprompted conversations with a seemingly inanimate object had to stem from Ivan's latest meme obsession. Alfred knew about it.

He was onto them.

"How was your day?" Ivan asked, redirecting his gaze towards the skillet he was scrubbing. "Mine was well. I planted flowers today, and I had a nice conversation with a policeman. Do you talk to police often, Mr. FBI?"

Alfred let his shoulders relax, his mind wandering unintentionally, following Ivan's statements. Coincidentally, his brother Matthew was a DC police officer and friend of the division, but sadly, they didn't have many chances to talk. "What are you doing, man?" Alfred blurted out. "You know this is weird, right?"

Alas, Ivan would never be able to hear Alfred. He had already begun saying something else by the time Alfred was done speaking: "...and work around the people, because it is so fun inside, and there's AC! People are scared to talk to me when I am working outside. But at least I don't have to stand all day." Ivan's voice had gotten quieter, forcing Alfred to pay closer attention. "Do you stand all day when you work, Mr. FBI?"

"Hell no." Alfred kicked the wheels of his chair. "But don't get excited—it's a curse, dude. I would choose a nice garden with fresh air over this stuffy old garage any day."

Ivan was silent and complacent, as if he was really listening, Dora the Explorer-like, and Alfred still couldn't discern if it was endearing or eerie. Ivan's eyelids were halfway shut, a tiny smile gracing his lips. He waited a second more, then nodded. "Is your work boring, Mr. FBI?"

He considered. "Yeah. Not that you're that boring, but…" Alfred let the sentence hang. It wasn't as if it mattered if he finished it, anyway. And the fact was that Ivan was pretty boring. He was the only one ever in his apartment, and went to bed early on Friday nights. On Saturdays he did laundry and cleaned, and every Sunday he napped and called his sisters! "I'm just glad you work so much so I don't have to. Wow, I did not mean for that to sound mean. Um, it's true, though. If you had a computer, things would be differen—"

"Agent Jones?" a recognizable accented voice peeped around the doorway. "Whom are you talking to?"

For the second time that day, Alfred jumped and pushed down his screen, muting Ivan. "No one, good golly, don't scare me like that!"

Chief Arthur Kirkland, Alfred's boss and the head of the black division, didn't appear to notice or care. He stood stiffer than Toris had, clipboard and pencil in hand. "Okay, so, listen. You're mates with Agent Beilschmidt, right? He never checked in with Chief Héderváry and she wanted me to ask—"

Alfred adjusted his glasses, scrunching up his nose. "Which Beilschmidt?"

"The elder." Arthur steeled himself, putting a perplexed finger to his temple. "Apparently, Gilbert's gone MIA."

Alfred crossed his arms. "I haven't seen him since office bowling on Friday. He got his arm stuck in the ball return. Today Héderváry tried to stun me when I checked in! What is up with the gray division?"

Kirkland shook his head to himself, beginning to pace in place. His eyes were as wide as quarters, staring unforgivably at his clipboard as if it held all the answers. "With Carriedo missing already, I'm sure there's foul play to suspect, or even worse—the Mafia. They're on the same team; it's too much of a coincidence. It also means—" He gasped suddenly, raising his crazy blond head in epiphany. Then his voice lowered to a whisper. "It means someone else will be next."

Alfred sat up straighter, suddenly excited. "Whoa, really? Can I help? What case were they working on before they disappeared? Who saw them last? Where—"

"No." Arthur Kirkland was cross. "Not your division. Just let them handle it. Who are you monitoring, again?"

He hesitated. "Ivan. I mean, Braginsky. The...the guy—"

"The Russian spy, right." Arthur stuck his pen behind his ear. "Well. I'll be off, then. Remember to record any—"

"I know, I know." Alfred waved his hand. He felt more and more antsy the longer the Chief was in his space. "Just get on with it. It's fine."

"Right." Arthur frowned and touched his headpiece, half-turned away. "Good day, then. Do your work."

Alfred swiveled back to Ivan, groaning loudly as Arthur departed. Sometimes he felt like he was never taken seriously, but then again, he did sit at a desk and watch a famous memer's life all day. He wasn't sure if such a job should be taken seriously or not.

"I wish I was in a different division," Alfred blurted out. While he had been distracted by Arthur, Ivan had finished washing dishes and was now wiping down his stove and countertops. "I want to do more field agent stuff. My job would be a lot less boring if, instead of hacking all your gadgets and watching you from behind this screen, I could actually go out and spy on you. You know, like, shadow you from around street corners, hiding in the bushes with binoculars, open up the refrigerator door and BAM I'm there!" Alfred slapped his hands on his knees, grinning. "Eat all your food. Make you drop your croissant."

Ivan was still smiling to himself in that charming, unnerving way as he strangled the last drops of water from his rag and hung it over the faucet to dry. "What do you like to do when you're not working, Mr. FBI? Or do you work all the time? I imagine you taking shifts with someone else. Which FBI do I speak to now?"

"Nope, just me. I mean, other black division monitors like Toris sometimes, or Ludwig Beilschmidt if I can convince him, but mostly just me. They all have other guys to watch; y'all suspected criminals are weird. If I wasn't here I would be at NASA." Alfred glanced wistfully at the star chart above his head. "But they wanted me to work on computers, and I wanted to go to space. Diddly darn dang, I love space."

Ivan waited five more seconds before responding. "That's nice."

Alfred nodded fervently. "Damn right it is. Arthur—what a mom—says I waste my talents—"

"I hope you are having an good day, wherever you are," Ivan mused. "I assume you work at FBI headquarters. I walked by that place today. Tomorrow I work in the butterfly garden. It is very close, and my favorite place to work."

"That's rad. I've been there. It's right next to the Museum of Natural—"

"It is next to the Museum of Natural History." Ivan was staring directly at the camera. For the many months Alfred had been Ivan's monitor, he hadn't noticed the purple hue his eyes took on in this dim kitchen glow. "Very beautiful, da? Convenient that most of the Smithsonian buildings are close to each other, all in the same place. I can look at prize artifacts and arrange flowers at the same time."

Alfred was silent. A vision of Ivan with a butterfly perched atop his big nose entered Alfred's mind. He wished Ivan used his phone on the job, wondering what Ivan actually looked like while working. The phone was harder to hack when it was turned completely off; Ivan normally kept it like that during the day while Alfred was away.

"Oh. That reminds me. One moment, Mr. FBI." Ivan walked off out of view.

An idea began to take shape in Alfred's mind, replacing the image of Ivan and the butterfly. Really, allowing Ivan to go that whole slot of time without documentation was a bad strategy, especially if Ivan really was a dangerous Russian intelligence agent. Who knew what he could be up to? And with all the gray division field agents being abducted by the Mafia, apparently, there would be less people to go out and make sure Ivan wasn't, like, putting poison into the plants or something. Alfred could step up and ask. Alfred wanted to see Ivan irl.

And speaking of Ivan, where the heck was he?

Alfred instinctively leaned forward before forgetting it was impossible to see around the kitchen through Ivan's phone. He was positioned so he was staring at Ivan's undecorated refrigerator. He couldn't even hear Ivan, though he remembered Ivan had excused himself.

Ivan never did this. After dishes he would always make himself a lunch for the next day, spend another thirty minutes online, read a little of the book he was slowly working through, check his phone again, and then get ready for bed. Alfred stared frustratedly at the screen, willing it to shift. "Hey, get back over here!" he protested. "You can't just leave me hanging like this!"

From the other room came a thump and a crinkle of plastic that sounded like an empty Doritos bag.

"Ivan!" Alfred huffed. "Don't make me do it!" He brought up a tab of the phone's controls. His finger hovered over the mouse. "Alright, you asked for it. Hear that? I'm doing it, Braginsky!" He pressed a button, making the phone burst into a frantic buzzing.

A few seconds later Ivan reentered the kitchen, his soft boi face appearing innocent and concerned through the screen. Alfred shut the phone's buzzing off, crossing his arms smugly. "Explain yourself."

Ivan, however, didn't say anything. He picked up the phone, opened it, and went straight to his meme account. Alfred felt betrayed when Ivan didn't speak any more, just swiped through his feeds. "So close," he mumbled to himself, having switched back to Russian. Alfred was a bit startled by this, as well; if Ivan knew (or thought he knew) that no one was going to hear and respond to him, why had he been using English when he spoke to "Mr. FBI?" Alfred accepted it was just another of his quirks that made Alfred's job easier. But it signified that their conversation was now over.

"Okay, whatever, it's chill, then." Alfred glanced at the time. He still had a few long hours to go before Ivan clocked in for the night. He had been caught off-guard by the unprompted half-conversation, and now was embarrassed at how he had whined about being ignored. Deep down, Alfred didn't really believe Ivan was a criminal or a spy. Criminals didn't get drunk on vodka home alone and laugh so pleasantly. Spies didn't jump on their beds in excitement whenever it snowed and knit their own oven mitts. Ivan was as ordinary and unassuming and simple as one could be, and immigrant or otherwise he had absolutely no reason to be on the FBI black list.

So Alfred sighed and settled into his cubicle for another evening of memes, same as always. He waited, watched and waited, stole food from Toris and waited, but it turned out that Mr. FBI didn't even get a "Goodnight."

.

Ivan had no intention of telling his phone goodnight. In fact, he had been reading (and posting) so many FBI memes lately that he left his phone on his bed under the covers in paranoia while he went to the bathroom. But not because it was gross to have someone watching him do his business, which it was. It was because under his sink, squeezed behind the water pipe, was a laptop computer no one knew about but himself and an invisible faction of Russian hackers. Stored on that computer was vital information he had been slowly leeching from the Smithsonian Institute. He didn't know what the circle would do with the info when he sent it, wrapped up with ribbons and bows over a deep web email provider, but he knew if he didn't do his job there would be consequences. He made sure to flush the toilet and run the water on his way out.

Ivan hopped into bed and picked his phone back up, humming as if nothing had happened. He refused to look at the camera lens again, but chided himself. If someone really was watching him, he would know. He distracted himself by checking his meme account once more.

Ivan buried his body under the massive pile of blankets, turning off the lamp and letting his phone screen be the only source of light in the room. He had read that blue light before bed destroyed the eyes, but figured he was already too far gone in that direction to fix anything now. Someone had commented "Congratulations! Heart emoji, fireworks emoji, clapping hands emoji," on his most recent post. Ivan's breaths picked up as he doubled back to check his follower count, gasping when he saw it.

He had broken one million.

.

I have nothing to say for myself.

[lmfmp2021]

Creating My Own Collage

Here, I will now be creating my first collage inspired by Zerka’s work that I have previously looked at. I am hoping my own piece will incorporate some elements from his work but I will also go my own direction too. To produce it, I will have to use all the skills I already know and maybe even some new ones along the way too. Additionally, I will be relating these collages to my theme of palm oil, to try and get a message across to the viewers of the effects.  As well as this, I will use Photoshop to do this task. 

Below, I started by bringing this image over to Photoshop, to which I got it from my own camera roll. I have mentioned before, that I wanted to try and use a couple of my own images as I feel this will make the overall collage feel more personal. This is because I took the images myself meaning I will have a connection with each one. This picture was taken on a holiday a few years ago as I was attracted my curves of the structure. I also drew to the brightness of the white as the sun was hitting on it. My initial thoughts on how I could use this was that I could cut out the structure so there is no background showing and then have an orangutans face inside the centre. I thought this could show the animals being trapped as it would look like jail bars. Although, when I was looking through Pexels (free copyright images) there was nothing that really stood out to me that I could use. 

Beneath, is showing my cutting out the image, where I had got rid of the background space and just had the inside sections left to cut out. I used the ‘polygonal lasso tool’ to do this. 

Once I had cut this out, I went back to Pexels to try and find another image that could work. I tried typing in many differing words and phrases to find something I could use. These include: ‘orangutans’, ‘orangutans deforestation’, ‘palm oil’ and 'palm oil plantation’. I ended up managing to find this image. I thought of placing his onto of the structure. This doesn't really represent anything but I thought I could look unusual. However, I noticed that this man isn't carrying palm oil as it its transported like this. I found this image mentioned grass in its name which is obviously not really relating to my theme. Although, I decided to go with it as I thought I could maybe add some other images along side it which do relate. I found there wasn't really loads of images that I could use, which made it very limiting to what I could use. 

I have started to cut the man out from the rest of the image, where I was slightly worried that the image wasn't going to bold enough to use. I was going to leave some background space showing around him, but found it looked quite messy as you can no longer see what it is. To cut this out I used the ‘lasso tool’ because I found it easier to go around all the curves. I was also able to show the grass shape more effectively. 

After that, I brought this image to the file where I was arranging and creating my collage. I did this because it was simpler to cut and edit the images on a  separate page. Next, I did what I was first intending to do, which was to place him onto of the the structure. At this point I had decided on my colour palette so I chose this green colour showing on the diamond shape, where I used the ‘eyedropper tool’ to get it from the grass. Also, I chose purple as I felt this was compliment the green well. The reason for using a colour from the actually image was because I discovered Zerka did this in a few of his pieces and I thought it brought the whole design together a bit more. 

Now that I had chosen the two colours I wanted to slightly change the colour of the structure as this would then contrast against the image a little more. I went into ‘colour overlay’ where I chose this dark green. I then just went through all the ‘blend modes’ to get to ‘difference’ where it shows the opposite colour on the colour wheel. This was purple. I didn't actually know at the time but felt that it was the colour I wanted anyway. I also felt this blend mode was really effective as it looks quite realistic. 

As you can see I have also placed this diamond shape behind the man and structure. I did this as I thought it could make the man standout from the rest. I thought to have the fill as the green I prevsioluy chosen and a thick purple stroke. 

Next, I decided to emphasise the shapes a bit more so I thought to copy and paste it, where I arranged them slightly lower than the previous one. Along with this, I decreased the opacity for each as well. Another this I included was these palm oil trees. 

I got this image from Pexels, where I then cut out a few of them and placed them onto my design. This picture is showing the trees from above as I found there that there was no images from the ground view. I thought that placing them on her would show the viewers a connection to palm oil. 

Here, I then decided to go back to this image on a sperate page, to which I used the ‘lasso tool’ to cut out weird shapes from the image. The reason for doing this was because Zerka used this technique of showing unusual shapes around the design. I thought to try this concept shape instead of a solid fill out using a more textured based instead of a fill colour. I experimented with this idea to which this was the outcome. I found it didn't look anywhere near as effective as his, but I wasn't sure why. I questioned whether it was the fact that it is a texture or that I wasn't positioning them right. As you can see, I have also shown sections of this image in a more purple tone. To do this, I used the options at the right side of my screen, where I got to ‘difference’ again and found this effect come up. I thought this was really striking as it matches with my colour palette but also completely changes the picture too. 

Another thing I added to this design was an extras outline of the ma to which I placed behind him. To do this, I copied and pasted this man and changed the fill to purple. I thought this could make him more engaging to the viewers. 

Here, I have played around with the shape as I have now swapped it a circle with only a stroke. I did try this shape with only a fill too but found it didn't really work as it too flat looking. This screenshot below, is showing with a stroke but I feel its a little boring now. 

I then thought to add another image in and try to swap it with the palm oil trees. I found this image of some logs stacked up on Pexels, where I felt this would relate. 

I used the ‘elliptical marquee tool’ to create a circle on top of the image. I then copied and pasted the shape. This is then how I ended up with this design below. I positioned this circular image slightly off centre from the other shape.

I thought this looked slightly weird and not really very successful so I then decided to get rid of all the aspects apart from the man. Instead, I changed the original image of the man so that he was now a threshold. I felt this looked striking with the purple silhouette arranged behind. As you can, I have also placed the palm oil trees back, but this time, I drew over the image to change its overall look. I then brought back the other smaller shapes from earlier. I tried to show the look of the image falling apart. This idea came from one of Zerka’s pieces of work where he used a picture of a woman in a pond with lily pads around her. The artist presented sections of the lily pads almost floating away. In my case, I thought this could show the messgae of the palm oil taking over the forests. 

Here, I have then played with the shape again, to which I chose a circle this time. I also thought to add this outline shape. I created it by going into the ‘ellipse tool’ and changing the stroke to green and ‘stroke options’ to these dashes. I thought doing this would highlight this centre area a bit more. 

After that, I swapped the image to the stack of wood, where I then brought in the cut out palm oil trees, where I placed them inside the circular shape. As you can see, I also played around with the thickness of the dashes but also moved the position of the purple silhouette too. Without realising it, I have actually ended up with a more logo looking design as I would definitely not call this a collage. However, I still think its looks quite effective and I will be saving this as  a separate design just in case I ever want to go back on it. 

[btsreactionsandtexts]

BTS REACTS TO: Their s/o wearing an ugly picture of them on a t-shirt

Anon Asked: Can you do a BTS Reaction to their s/o wearing an ugly selfie of them on a t-shirt in public? I ALWAYS wanted to do this with my boyfriend but he's too photogenic uGH

Okay, I’ve totally done this before. Showed up at a friend’s birthday party wearing an ugly snapchat pic they sent me on a sweatshirt lol.

- Admin Dayna

Seokjin

Jin is handsome. He knew it, his fans knew it, and obviously, so do you. But with great beauty, comes great responsibility, and it seems like your boyfriend abuses his good-looks. Jin oozes narcissism. At times it was funny, charming in fact, but there’s only so much of it one could take. Sometimes consequences need to be dealt out to the arrogant. With just enough persistence and creativity, you’ve came up with the perfect plan. You awaited his arrival at the airport, your hoodie zipped up hiding your brilliance. Jin and the boys’ plane had landed and now they were only a few feet away from you. When you were absolutely positive Jin was looking right at you - and you could tell he had by the way he suddenly picked up his pace to a brisk jog your direction - you unzipped your hoodie, revealed your t-shirt with a rather... unattractive picture of him that his Army has turned into a meme printed on the front. You lifted your arms up high, allowing Jin, the boys, and the lucky bystanders to bask in its glory. As Namjoon, Yoongi, Hobi, Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook all erupted into laughter, Jin struggled to reprimand you between fits of giggles.

“Wha - jagiyaahh~! How could you betray me?!”

“What have I done to deserve this?!”

“Do you think this was right?! I demand respect!”

Suga

Some people date and become #RelationshipGoals, but between you and Yoongi, it was #CivilWar. Battle of the Brats: Petty vs. Savage. Yoongi loved to pick at you. As level-headed and wise as the boy seems to be, there were times where you questioned his maturity. As of lately, he’s been on a roll. Mocking the way you laughed, cheeky jabs and slick comments, talking back to you with just as extra dash of sass - it appears that Yoongi has forgotten he isn’t the only petty one in this relationship. Today he had a day off and promised to go out with you just to get some ice cream together. What he doesn’t know is that you’ve prepared a couple days ahead a little something to get back at him for all his latest antics. He rang the doorbell and called out your name from outside. You nonchalantly open the door and greet him, smoothing out the t-shirt you wore with an embarrassing selca of him printed right in the middle. He froze, staring at your shirt with mild disbelief,

“So wait... you’re wearing that out?”

“Yeah. What you don’t like it?”

“I mean well... can you not wear it out?”

“Can you never wear it?”

Hoseok

Hobi is a great boyfriend, you weren’t complaining. He treated you well, and showered you with compliments, love and affection. The one thing that you just couldn’t stand about your boyfriend was how much he loved to show the boys all the ugly selfies you sent him through snapchat. The whole purpose of you sending it to him was for it to be seen by only him! If you wanted the boys to see, you would’ve damn well done it yourself! It’s not like you showed all your friends ugly selfies of him he sent you! But at the rate Hoseok was going, it was about time you had your fun too. The second J-Hope sent you an ugly snapchat selfie, you screenshot the sucker, and ordered a customized t-shirt with the selca on it with big black letters on top that said, “My Hope”. You wasted no time when it finally had been delivered. You ripped the package open, slipped the t-shirt on, and took a selfie in it - and made sure you looked damn cute, too. Within the next 5 minutes, Hobi had spammed your SNS and Text Messages with Laughing and Crying Emojis.

“[y/n]~! What is this?!”

“I look so awful in that! Did you wear it out?!”

“You’re awful, jagi!”

Namjoon

This is revenge. Absolutely justified, of course. You let Namjoon scroll through your playlist on your Spotify, and - not surprisingly - the kid slipped up and forgot gravity existed. He dropped your phone, and the screen shattered. You watched your cell fly through the air, land on the concrete sidewalk, and skid a few feet more in slow motion. And your boyfriend just watched it with horror on his face. As much as he apologized for it between nervous laughter, you still haven’t found it in your heart to forgive him. Why? Well, because this was his third time breaking your phone’s screen. On that day you told him to remember these words: “Karma is a bitch”. Today, he can call you Karma. Jin was making the boys one of your favorite dishes, and knowing this, Namjoon invited you over to the dorms to eat some. This was the perfect moment. You knocked on the door three times, and shuffled on your feet impatient for him to open the door and see you. It was Jungkook who had welcomed you, staring down at the t-shirt and instantly drawing attention to you with how loudly he laughed. The boys hurried over confused, Namjoon taking the lead. It took a few seconds for him to finally process that it was him on your shirt, and to that he couldn’t help but laugh himself

“Why, [y/n]?! Why?!”

“Remember when you broke my phone, asshole?”

“Ugh... why are you so petty?”

“I already bought you a new one!”

Jimin

ChimChim was so fluffy it hurts. His smiling eyes were cute, his laugh was cute, the way he combed his hair back with his fingers was cute, even when he got flustered and fell weak to nervous giggles was cute! You simply couldn’t help how much you wanted to show off how precious your boyfriend was. It was only natural for one to do so, right? You saw somewhere on twitter a picture of a couple wearing each other’s selfies on a shirt and took inspiration from it. It was a great idea, but you wanted something a little more... personalized. Something that’ll express to the world how much you really loved your Jiminie. Searching deep within the depths of selcas and pictures of your boyfriend in your camera roll, you finally found the perfect one. Even when Jimin made ugly faces, he was cute! You got the shirt customized, printed, and shipped within a matter of 3 days flat, and was quick to put it on and hurry to the boy’s dorms to show off the shirt. Jimin opened the door, already excited to see you through the peep hole. Once he got a glimpse of your shirt, his cheeks grew hot, and as expected, your ChimChim began to laugh out of absolute embarrassment.

“You had to pick that picture?”

“Did you come here just to bully me, Jagi?”

“I shouldn’t even let you in!”

Taehyung

Truth be told, the relationship between you and TaeTae was quite simply shits and giggles. Of course there came serious moments, but it was silly, goofy, childish ones that always stuck out the most. Before Tae had gone off on tour, as the tradition goes, the two of you came up with ways and items to keep each other close despite the distance. Your boyfriend had gotten a blown up print of a snapchat pic you sent him using a silly filter and making a just as silly face. He told you he planned on carrying that poster with him whereever he went, and framing it when he got back to the Seoul Dorms. Hearing that, you decided to make use of the handful of crazy selcas Tae had sent you himself. You printed out the best one on a t-shirt, and took a picture of yourself wearing it. Seeing the picture put a big boxy grin on his face.

“Ahh! Jagiyaah~! That’s better than my poster!”

“I want the t-shirt too!”

“Absolutely not! You wear an ugly picture of me on your shirt and pictures of you wearing it will spread on the fansites so fa -”

“No, no, [y/n], I want to wear a t-shirt with myself on it.”

Jungkook

The problem with Jungkook is he talks too much. The two of you facetime late nights while he’s abroad during tour. You tell each other how much you love and miss one another, and end the call bittersweet. Sometimes, he makes silly recommendations on how to get by the day with him away. It’s expected that not all of his recommendations are too great, but every once in a while, he proves himself more genius than he gives himself credit for. One night you had told him, “Jungkookie, I miss your ugly face.” and he’d say in response, “if you print it on a shirt, every time you walk past a mirror you’ll see it.” Brilliant right? Guess he hadn’t taken into consideration the depths of how truly iconic the idea was. The next day, you had went out and done exactly that, sporting his face on your shirt for days. He called you one night during facetime as you were wearing it. To say the least, he was quite shook.

“... what’s on your shirt?”

“It’s you!”

“Okay but... but why?”

“It was your idea...?”

“I wasn’t being serious!”

“Did you wear it out? No - actually, don’t wear it out.”

“[y/n] DON’T WEAR IT OUTSIDE.”

[entergamingxp]

The storm chaser of Red Dead Redemption 2 • Eurogamer.net

Despite their enormous size and terrifying presence, it’s fair to say most players don’t spend a great deal of time thinking about Red Dead Redemption 2’s storms. I’d always assumed the storms were simply random weather events that spawned and vanished as soon they passed overhead. Something to create ambience while you travel the world (or a surprisingly calming ASMR soundtrack to listen to while writing). Peel back the cloud cover, however, and you’ll discover there’s a good deal more to them.

Over on Reddit, one player decided to take a closer look at Red Dead Redemption 2’s weather system, and came back with some unexpected findings. After asking members of the reddeadmysteries subreddit for help in tracking down lightning strike spots, “MC_Ulfric” (also known as “InsertRandomNameHere”) hopped on his horse to follow the storms himself – across the entire map. This wasn’t just a simple sightseeing tour, either, as MC_Ulfric carefully watched where the largest lightning strikes hit the ground, and compiled the data from three storms into a map that shows Red Dead Redemption 2’s storms are anything but static.

I Chased 3 Thunderstorms Across The Map And Recorded Where Large Bolts of Lightning Struck from r/reddeadmysteries

I was captivated by the idea of a lone rider out in the pouring rain, making detailed notes about the storm’s behaviour in a soggy journal. So I got in touch to ask MC_Ulfric more about his adventures in the Wild West, and how he’d managed to track the storms.

But first, why?

“I started storm chasing just out of curiosity, honestly”, MC_Ulfric told me. “One day I was fishing for a legendary fish in a pond near Butcher Creek and saw lightning striking really close to me at the top of a hill, where I found a large blackened patch of grass with exploded trees just north of the creek. I found out the place was commonly known as the ‘Why’ trees, as the shapes of the trees spelt ‘WHY’ if you turned the camera just right.”

Why knot.

“It sparked my curiosity and made me start wondering if lightning had any deeper hidden meaning in the game,” MC_Ulfric continued. “As another redditor commented on the thread, we had to follow a random group of birds to find bigfoot’s cave. Why not lightning to another Easter egg?”

One of the main theories to have come from MC_Ulfric’s findings is the idea that the storms are pointing towards a hidden Easter egg somewhere near the Colter section of the map – the snowy abandoned town which hosts the game’s very first chapter. All three storms tracked by MC_Ulfric began over the southern lakes and rivers of Red Dead Redemption 2, before moving inland to the top of the North-West corner of the map. While the storms could just be following a realistic water cycle, it’s pretty fun to imagine they’re closing in on a hidden secret. In his Reddit thread, MC_Ulfric noted it felt like each bolt would seem to hit the ground just as he’d reached the spot where the last one had landed, as if the storms were leading the player somewhere.

“Since the beginning of the game I always thought there has to be something hidden under all that snow, just begging to be found,” MC_Ulfric mused. “Either in Colter or at the Glacier or the crevasse. Who knows?”

Yet the weather system is interesting in and of itself, with MC_Ulfric explaining each of the mapped storms lasted for about 30 minutes in real-world time. He observed that shorter storms of under five minutes drifted more randomly, and more generally, not many storms travelled North-West to South-East.

The map also reveals some of Red Dead Redemption 2’s lightning-strike hotspots, such as the aforementioned Why trees near Annesburg, which explains the cluster of four lightning bolts on MC_Ulfric’s map. Wearing a viking helmet on this spot will trigger a lightning strike that kills the player, which is a fun little Easter egg. Perhaps not for Arthur. Setting fire to the Native Burial Site is also known to summon a small and angry storm, but as explained by MC_Ulfric, these scripted events are localised and cannot move.

It seems half the fun is in actually chasing the storms, and I couldn’t help but wonder how MC_Ulfric did it – particularly considering I can barely walk five minutes in Red Dead Redemption 2 without being interrupted by outlaws or a grumpy cougar. Not to mention the furrowed landscape makes a simple five-minute walk feel like 20.

“It’s pretty easy once you’re in the epilogue,” MC_Ulfric said. “The two most difficult things are figuring out what direction to move to keep the storm ‘alive’ and avoiding trees and rocks while still keeping an eye out for the lightning. It makes for some strange controller grip finger combinations.

“[Storms] are predictable and in a way, guideable. Just gotta figure out how to read them. You’ll ride one direction and the clouds will get lighter, another and they’ll get darker. Gotta keep them dark and eventually they won’t go away.”

MC_Ulfric isn’t a storm chaser in real life, but he does appreciate a good storm when it rolls through. ‘I love storm watching. That being said, have I ever mounted up my Arabian and went tearing through the back country of California to finally figure out where the pot of gold is hidden? No. But if I had an Arabian and some free time, I totally would.��

Unsurprisingly for a storm-chaser, on a couple of occasions MC_Ulfric got a little too close to the action. By this, I mean he got hit by lightning and died.

“I was struck by lightning twice. The first time I was in Roanoke Ridge at the Why trees just inspecting the area. I happened to have the Viking Helmet on (which is a trigger there) and boom. Lightninged to death.

“The second time, I was tracking a storm, saw the next strike and marked it, then thought I’d try to get ahead of it and closer to the next area so I rode forward. I guess I made it right on the money where the next one was coming down because, white flash, boom – dead.”

The process of recording the lightning strikes also required more modern methods than the old-fashioned journal I’d envisaged. In order to find the exact location of a strike, Ulfric would wait for a flash, then pause the game by opening up the photo mode. This meant the bolts were frozen in place, and he could navigate the free-cam “as high as it’ll go” before zooming in on the strike area. “Look for a landmark where you can get to, screenshot, unpause and ride there and mark the map,” he explained. “Wash, rinse, repeat.”

While MC_Ulfric doesn’t know of any other storm chasers – and he appears to be the first to have taken the hobby this far – other Reddit users have told him they’ve been inspired to try their hand at storm-chasing. MC_Ulfric has vowed to continue his own storm-chasing career, thereby satisfying my vision of a haggard, lonely storm-chaser riding off into a darkened sunset. Or perhaps just digging through piles of snow, in search of gold.

Storm image credit: YouTube channel BeyondOasys.

from EnterGamingXP https://entergamingxp.com/2020/04/the-storm-chaser-of-red-dead-redemption-2-%e2%80%a2-eurogamer-net/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=the-storm-chaser-of-red-dead-redemption-2-%25e2%2580%25a2-eurogamer-net

[screeendance]

Screen Dance Concept to Production: Critical Evaluation

This module has both given me challenges but also opportunities to learn new skills. My main focus during this module was to expand my personal repertoire as a screen dance artist and performance maker. As a group we had many creative ideas for our final submission, taking on the role of group leader meant I could oversee all these ideas and decide which was practically going to be successful and accessible. Our first challenge as a group was to decide on a theme/style/idea for our submission, we wanted to push ourselves out of our comfort zones and learn new styles of dance.

Once we had settled on the fact that we wanted to investigate 1950s style ideas started to flourish from there, we’d found a location, costumes, and a place to teach us the 1950s dance styles. Our location was ‘Great Central Railway, Quorn Station’ (Picture 1) A station which had not been decorated or changed since the 1950s. Of course, once we saw the station our piece became very site specific, we started choregraphing to suit this location, playing with shots from the track and around corners on the station. We really felt this location would give us an authentic 1950s look. After Choreographing and working with 6 dancers and running with this idea we were then contacted by the location saying that we could no longer use the station for filming as it was due for construction. One of the problems of being screen dance makers on a budget meant we were not able to find another location that wouldn’t not charge us, our piece was very much site specific at this point, so this meant we must sit back and rethink our whole idea.

This turned out to be a huge benefit to us, because it gave us a chance to evaluate our choreography, We realised the majority of our shots were of two people at a time and that it would be a considerable amount easier to only have 2 dancers to rely on for filming instead of 6. It also gave us a chance to look at how we could still incorporate the 1950s style wed been working with but juxtapose this with the location. ‘The placing of a dancing body in unexpected surroundings is perhaps another way in which video dance seizes the spectator’s eye … Not only is the video dance body often situated in unexpected locations, but also, in several cases, it is presented within circumstances that are illogical and peculiar.’ (Dodd’s, 2001) We wanted to play on this idea of day dreaming as if the dancer is skipping back in time in their day dreams. Mixing the rock and roll style dance with modern elements such as the modern park location and the modern headphones gives this eclectic mix of props and styles.

 McPherson believes that ‘the choreography should interact with the space, not just be used as a backdrop’ (McPherson. 2006) By cutting down on the number of dancers we could focus more on the two dancers we had and how they interacted with the space around them. I wanted the dancers to interact with the bench and their surroundings as well as each other. For example, when both dancers first appear on screen, they are acting very reclusive because they are in a public park and you can see they have their barriers raised in terms of special distance between them. On the flip side to this when the shot cuts to the dream like state the two have an instant connection and their proximity to each other instantly increases. The idea that in the daydream they can dance like no one is watching creates this sense of freeness and we wanted to display that through the shots we took.

When filming our piece, I took on the role of main camerawoman, this meant I had to look at what angles would be best fitted to filming each move. For example I created close up shots of the two dancers caressing each other to emphasise this close proximity they have to each other and to draw the viewers vision into this particular movement, but I also took wide angle shots of the two dancers in frame to play with this idea of childlike freeness of them running around the park. I wanted to play with mirrored shots of the two dancers looking at each other In the first few shots to show that these two people have a subtle connection although not completely clear what it is yet. (Picture 2, Screenshot from final film) When getting feedback from piers Sian Evans said, ‘It’s almost as if they have a secret between them’.

 Along with playing with Proximity, my dancers brought their own personality to their performance and from their appearances I wanted to play with the idea of what your clothes say about your gender and sexuality. Now obviously in the 1950s gender fluidity was not an accepted concept, by dressing my dancers in 1950s style costumes I asked them to add their own flare to the costumes to see what this would reveal about gender fluidity in 2019 in comparison. The female dancer chose to wear big green boots instead of small ballet pumps to show her strong side, and my male dancer chose to wear tight fitting trousers and dye his hair blue (Something generally not accepted in the 1950s) these little tweaks to their costumes mean we had this mash up of 1950s brought to the present day. It also meant when we were choreographing, we could look at play with masculine and feminine roles within rock and roll dancing. Men in the rock and roll dance scene are generally seen as rough and strong but my male dancer was very delicate in his moves which meant when I was choreographing, I had to take in consideration that his moves were light footed and flowing.

To gain research on how to perform rock and roll dance for our piece we needed to go and learn from some experienced dancers. We took it upon ourselves to join a local rock and roll night and speak to some of the regulars their about what they feel true rock and roll is. This experience of learning all the twists and turns were a real eye opener for us a group and gave us some insight into the lives of these people who had been dancing rock and roll since they were very young. We also heard many stories from the dancers there who had been dancing during the war or had been affected by rock and roll during their life time. Most dancers there had met their partners through rock and roll dancing in their younger years, we wanted to show the difference between how young people meet in 2019 in comparison to the 50s. With modern technology a lot of young people are cut off from true human connection, but any kind of ballroom dance combats this lack of touch. By setting our piece out as if it were a daydream it brings to light this crave the modern youth have for social interactions, when in the reality we see in the final shot that the two dancers didn’t in fact move from the bench at all they simply just sat there listening to music and holding this public persona as if nothing had happened. (Picture 3)

 “Deren and Berkeley both used the camera as a participant in the choreographic event that was being filmed, and both filmed with a single camera…. Deren, in her comparatively small-scale work, considered her performer as a partner in the creative process. (Lewis-Smith, C. 2016). Our Screen dance piece was a completely collaborative process between me, the camera operator, and the dancers. I wanted them to feel comfortable and give them as much inspiration to create dance as possible. Thankfully my dancers already knew each other and were fine with working close with each other and with the camera, this meant I could focus on close ups of fine details during the choreography without them feeling as if they are losing the ‘moment’. Although my dancers being close meant I could work with them easier it also meant it was heard for us all to be professional about our filming and meant filming the shots took twice as long for cuts for things such as laughing and talking.

We filmed our whole piece in March with costume and thankfully good weather, but once it came to editing I found it extremely difficult to edit the shots to look at a professional standard because in every other shot we had someone was either laughing or talking or had messed up a move. This was a major learning curve for both me and the dancers because we all saw our lack of professionalism, thankfully we could go back to film another day, but it meant we had chances to look at what choreography worked and what didn’t or could be changed. When it came to film the second time, I had a friend assisting with a second camera for different angles meaning we could get twice as many shots in a shorter amount of time. By doing this it meant we could put more pressure on the dancers to not look away from the camera and smile as they were always seen on camera. Overall, I feel I’ve had a huge learning curve from this as a dancer, a camera operator and a director.

 Bibliography

·         Dodd’s, Sherril. 2001. Dance on Screen: Genres and Media from Hollywood to Experimental Art. New York: Palgrave.

·         Lewis-Smith, C. 2016, “A brief history of the dancer/camera relationship”, Moving Image Review & Art Journal, vol. 5, no. 1-2, pp. 142-156.

·         McPherson, Katrina. 2006. Making Video Dance. New York: Routledge.

·         Picture 2 and 3: Screen shot of https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jGVjlMWogQE

·         Picture 1: http://www.gcrailway.co.uk/station-facilities/quorn-woodhouse/

[andrewmrudd79]

My Home Office Set Up and Tour

What’s up, everybody? I’m so excited, because today I’m taking you on a tour of my home office!

Whether you work from home or a coffee shop or somewhere else, you’re going to get a couple things out of this post.

First, you’re just going to see the different kinds of work that I do and why it’s important to have a specific environment where you do those certain things.

Second, hopefully it will also give you some inspiration for something to work toward when it comes to your own work space—because this is definitely not how it was for me in the beginning. It took a number of years and a lot of hard work to get this level. I’m not about dream cars and dream vacations and things like that; I’m about the dream office, because my office is where I produce a lot of what I create for you guys.

My Very First (Very Tiny) Office

I remember my very first office. It was in a one-bedroom apartment I shared with my wife, April, right after we got married. It was hardly any room at all; just a little dinky corner in the kitchen space. Check out this screenshot from a video I made way back in 2008.

But the thing is, this tiny space worked really well for me. This goes to show that you don’t necessarily need an incredibly spacious office. You just need a place to do your work—one that has whatever you need to get into that “work mode” mindset, whether you’re sitting down or standing up. As long as your location and setup helps you check in mentally to do the work you need to do, that’s what matters.

My New Digs

From there, we rented a house and I had an office for the first time. That was really nice, because I had my own door that I could close. A few years later, we bought our own house. By that point, I had a really good idea of what I wanted in a working space, and I was willing to invest a lot of money to build one I would love. And that’s what I’ve done! I put a lot of thought and care into my current office space. The design process was especially cool because I got to tap into my architecture past to help make it happen. I created some design drawings and then shared them with an interior designer, who added her touches and shared them with the people who eventually built it all.

Ready to take the tour? Let’s go!

My Home Office Tour

Here’s a shot of (most of) the space. It was definitely built from scratch and it’s my dream office. I had it very specifically laid out for all the different things I do, and each space and item has a specific reason for being there. I’m going to share those things with you now!

This room isn’t that big; it’s maybe 14 feet by 16 feet, but that space is utilized in a way that maximizes the productivity and usefulness of the entire space. As you can see, there isn’t much wall space left—but it’s not just a bunch of shelves, either. Everything in here has been very strategically designed and placed.

The first thing you’ll see is the large stand-up desk in the middle of the room. Standing up while working has been one of the best things for me in terms of staying focused and being able to get off my butt a little bit. It’s nice to stand up. It’s good for your back. And if I have to sit down, I can pull out one of the stools that are strategically placed underneath the desk so they don’t take up much room!

I use the standing desk to do some of my writing, but I also write on the board you see below. It’s not really a whiteboard—it’s a frosted glassboard. I like it better than a traditional whiteboard because it’s a little more stylish. Regular dry erase whiteboards don’t really do justice to some spaces, and I wanted to make sure this one looked really good and fit the space nicely.

The surface of the glassboard is writeable, so I can just go into one of the drawers located in the standing desk, pull out one of these markers and write on the surface. Then, if I want to, I can erase it using one of these chamois cloths. You might also recognize these Post-it notes from a previous blog post where I walked you through my book writing process.

Down on the ground on the left here is the infamous “Hello, My Name Is Pat” backpack, which some of you may have seen on me at conferences!

Now, I’ll get into some of the other important parts of the space. To the left of standing desk is my planning area. As you can see, there are no computers here.

This is where I sit down to do my planning, scheduling, and things like that. This giant calendar essentially has my whole year laid out. I don’t use this space very often—it’s more decorative than anything most of the time, to be honest. But I still keep some interesting pieces over here! Here’s my diploma from Cal.

And here is my foam roller. I sit on the floor here every once in a while and do some foam rolling to wake myself up if I’m feeling tired. It’s good for the muscles and tissues, as well.

To the right are some books you might recognize from posts I’ve written before. Here’s a fun little tidbit for you: My interior designer, who I hired to help create the space, told me books look really good when you take the covers off. If you’re trying to design a nice, elegant space, just take the covers off some of your hardcover books and set them out. Here’s The 4-Hour Body, which you might recognize as a purple and orange book, but take the cover off and it’s a nice-looking blue book for you to show off.

This is my hoverboard from Back to the Future Part II. It’s not a real hoverboard, but it does look like one. I got it on Etsy.com.

I’m a huge Back to the Future fan, if you couldn’t tell already from the hoverboard, or the Back to the Future Lego I’ve also got over here.

This next one is really cool. An artist who was a fan of SPI sent me this. If you look really closely, you can see some of the threading.

Back to the center of the room, you’ll notice this large TV.

I do a lot of my writing right here. If you look underneath the table, you’ll see some stools. Often, I’ll pull out a stool, set up my laptop up here, and do some work.

I can also use Apple TV and Airplay to show what is on my laptop on the screen, as well. Let’s pull out my Logitech Bluetooth keyboard that’s stored underneath the TV and fire up my Apple TV.

Then we’ll open up YouTube and see if we can find some Smart Passive Income videos. There we go!

I like using this space as a “learning center.” I’ll watch course material or informative YouTube videos and take notes. It’s almost like I’m watching a lecture, which is really cool. I find that I learn better sitting in this space as opposed to the area to the right with the computer screens, where it’s easier to be distracted.

Another thing I love to do at this table is practice my keynote presentations. I’ll pull one up on the screen, then walk back and forth behind the table to practice my presentation while I look at the slides on the screen.

Let’s move down to the right, where I have my computers. This is the space where I actually spend most of my time. You’ll notice these two iMacs, which I use to do a lot of my writing. My main screen on the right is one of the newer Retina display 27-inch iMacs, and the one on the left is an older 27-inch iMac.

To left of the screens is my podcasting mic and stand. Those of you who are podcasters might recognize the microphone as a Heil PR-40. This is an awesome podcasting mic (although the ATR2100 by Audio-Technica is great, as well).

The mic stand also shows off my Smart Passive Income mic flag, which is really cool. You can go to impactpbs.com to get your own.

The mic arm is really handy because it connects right into my desk. I had to modify it to do that, though. The part that’s supposed to keep it from sticking or moving around kept falling off, so I just said, “Hey, let’s drill a hole in the counter and stick it there.” And it works really well!

Typically when I’m podcasting, I swing the mic around and up so I can speak into it while standing. I like podcasting standing up. I feel like I have better volume, and I’m more alert and focused. I’ll often do Skype interviews this way, too.

Let me show you some other cool parts of this space! The shelving area to the right of my computers was originally stacked full of books. When my interior designer came in to help me design my office, she loved this space so much that she wanted to take pictures of it for her portfolio. So she gathered lots of little books, boxes, coral, vases, and bottles from her house and brought them here. I liked the way she set it up so much that I half jokingly said, “Hey, I’d love to buy that stuff off of you because it looks great there.” She said, “Okay!” So I bought them from her and left them on the shelf, along with some of my camera stuff and other things that are important to me.

You can see the trumpet up there. I played trumpet in marching band in high school and college.

A bear, because I graduated from UC Berkeley.

And of course, I’ve got the Delorean with working gull wings, from Back to the Future Part II.

This is a baseball signed by Nolan Ryan, my favorite baseball player. (Thank you, Azul, for hooking that up for me.)

This is a lightsaber. If you follow me on Instagram, you might remember I was Darth Vader for Halloween one year.

I have a lot of storage space in here, as well. Another thing you’ll notice about this room is that the wires are virtually hidden. That’s one thing that was important to me, because I didn’t want to get distracted and I don’t like seeing wires everywhere. All of that stuff is in the walls or inside the cabinets.

This cabinet is where all the internet stuff goes: my router, cables, and all that stuff.

Over to the left, this cabinet is where my printer lives, as well as my sound mixer and scanner. You can’t see it because it’s so dark, but the printer is an HP Laserjet P1102W. It’s the thinnest printer I’ve found, so it fits in that space really nicely.

You’ll notice these red boards here. These are actually padded. This is more acoustical paneling on either side of the television here, which frames it quite nicely.

The windows are covered in gray Roman shades, which absorb sound, too. I like this little white border that my interior designer insisted be placed there. I’m really glad she did, because they look really good.

If you look up, you’ll notice these track lights. These are something I’d never had in a home before. They add some modern elements to the space, and can be used to highlight different parts of the room.

Up above, you’ll notice some more books and memorabilia, including stuff from my college years, and of course, more Back to the Future items.

Moving to the right, here’s one of my favorite parts of the room. This is the banquette area (as my interior designer called it), and it’s sort of my thinking area. A lot of cool things happen in this space. More on that shortly.

Above the couch, you’ll find an image of me at New Media Expo in 2014, presenting about how to convert your casual audience into raving fans. The cool thing about this piece of fabric is that it’s not just a canvas; it’s a piece of acoustical fabric. It was custom printed on this fabric that absorbs sound from the room so there’s less echo. You’ll also see these Edison lights, which are really cool, on either side.

To the right is possibly my absolute favorite part of the room. Behind all these cards is a 5-foot acoustic panel that’s similar to the one over the couch. On this one, I’ve pinned all my thank-you notes and letters from fans of Smart Passive Income and people who I’ve helped with their businesses. This isn’t all of them, not by far. When I’m feeling down and out and lacking motivation, I’ll often just turn around and look at this board, and it always gets me fired up again. Some people have even sent me the first dollars they ever made online; one person sent me the first $5 they made online, because they promised that’s what they would do.

There’s so much cool stuff here. Someone sent me a CD with videos on it. Another person even sent me Magic cards because they knew I like Magic: The Gathering.

Right next to my thank-you board is my meditation chair. This is where I meditate using the device you see on the table there. It’s also where I journal using my Five-Minute Journal. We’ll come back to those two things in a minute here!

This really cool table cuts away to reveal storage space I use for magazines.

Back to the chair. This is my favorite chair in the room. It’s actually an Ikea chair that I reupholstered for a couple hundred bucks. I do a lot of my thinking and reflection in this very chair, mainly in the morning. Here’s my routine: Each morning I come downstairs, get a glass of water, then boil some water for my bulletproof coffee. Once I’ve grabbed that, I sit down here and journal.

I’ve been writing in my Five-Minute Journal almost every day for several years. It’s been life-changing to write down why I wake up each day, what I appreciate, and what I’m striving for. Then at night before I go to bed, I journal about the things I’ve accomplished, and write down what I wish I could have done better.

I also use what’s on this table to help me meditate, because I’ve always had issues with meditating. Having one spot where I meditate each day helps me check in mentally and get into a routine. To help me meditate, I also use this device, the Muse headband.

You may have seen me talk about the Muse before on the blog. It’s a brain-sensing headband. If you go to ChooseMuse.com, you’ll see what this device is all about. I’ll put it on now, then sit down and show you what I look like for 7 to 12 minutes every morning.

I don’t have my headphones on right now, but those are also necessary. The Muse senses your brain activity, and when you have an active brain, you hear crashing waves and loud wind in your headphones. When you have a calm brain, you hear hardly any wind at all, maybe just some trickles of water. If you’re calm for a certain period of time, you may also hear some birds chirping in the distance. It’s a really cool tool, and it helps me validate if I’m doing it correctly, because that was the biggest issue for me with meditation.

I get my work done in the other parts of the office, but this area is where I sit down, relax, journal, meditate, and read, and I love it. It’s also where I can be right next to what matters most to me besides my family—you guys, courtesy of my thank-you board.

Well, there you have it! I showed you all the different spaces in my office, including where I get stuff done, where I plan, and where I meditate and work on self-improvement. I know a lot of you might not have a home office, and even if you do, it might not be quite as intricate and planned out as this one. Maybe you get most of your work done at a coffee shop. It’s up to you! You have to figure out what works best for you.

I’d love to see where you work, as well. Where do you get your work done? Where do you do your planning? Where do you do your meditation stuff? Maybe it’s all in the same spot. Wherever it is, I’d love to see it. Click here to visit the video version of this post on my YouTube channel. When you get there, leave a comment with a picture of your workspace, too. I’d love to see what you have going on and where you do most of your work.

And if you haven’t already, make sure to click here to subscribe to my channel to be notified whenever I release new videos. Cheers!

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My Home Office Set Up and Tour originally posted at Homer’s Blog