#it turns out editing photos of buildings is just extremely boring to me no matter how pretty they are

[windandwater]

Oxford, England

[sugarkinky]

Gamers gotta game | 2 |

Pairing: Gamer!jungkook x Nerd!Reader x Fuckboy!Jimin  Genre: Future smut, fluff and angst.  Warnings: More angst than anything on this part, mentions of alcohol abuse.  A/N: I’m happy to see that many of you liked the first part, this is a slow-burn fic so bear with me. *gif not mine*

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PART 2

▪♡▪

10:15

You felt like your hangover from yesterday was there again, even if you didn’t drink anything the night before. It felt like your head was about to explode when you got up. Sundays are pretty lazy for you, there is something in the vibe of it that makes you incapable of being productive.

There is no need to get out of your PJs, so you just lay on the small couch and watch some Netflix on your cellphone. Maybe Kenny is already up so you decide to text her, just to see if she’s ok with the hole Seokjin ordeal.

But then you see something that makes you look at it twice, a message… From Jimin?

Okay, not that big of a deal. He was drunk, you saw him and he may remembered you. That doesn’t mean he changed or will change. Come on, you don’t have to change someone, you’re not some kind of savior of boys who can’t keep it on his pants right?

You don’t know if you reply it or not, but for your own safety you just delete the text and his number all together. It was about time.

▪♡▪

Freshmen year.

There are some things you couldn’t quite understand about your body, how it shivers when next to him, the way you’ll blush every time he say something about you or your heart stopping just because of the sight of him. You were totally fucked and with a massive crush on him.

It all started by his way of talking to you, always sweet and really listening you. The conversations weren’t the boring type, you could spend hours talking to him and he seemed to get everything you were saying. After some classes together, you both ended up meeting for projects and studying for exams on the library. That seemed pretty friendly and at that point you felt like it was good this way, he was a good friend.

One day, things got weird between you two. After the first year’s midterm exams you both went to a party because Jimin got in this frat and needed to bring as many people as possible to cheer for him in a kind of “initiation”. You went with Kenny and that was your very first party, so she dolled you up. When you got there it was loud and too crowded for you, but since Jimin wanted you there you stayed.

“Y/N, you made it!” Jimin said when you saw him in the kitchen.

“Yeah, when did you got here?”

“Not long ago, do you drink?” He asked you with some random bottle in hand.

“Sure.”

The night went by, soon enough you’ve learned that Jimin liked drinking a little too much. The said “initiation” was actually many drinking games with some weird penalties, like twerking in front of everybody. Jimin was pretty good at that, you truly started having fun when they announced the final game: chicken fight. The only problem was that the newcomers should have a partner to put on his back. The time Jimin glanced a look at you, you started to shake your head as saying “please no”.

“Come on, Y/N. Do it for me, please?” The puppy eyes were your weak spot.

“Fine but I don’t have a swimsuit.”

“Not a problem you can go with some of my clothes.”

Not necessary to say that the game was a total mess, Jimin almost couldn’t keep straight because of how wasted he was. But you didn’t drink that much so it wasn’t that difficult to beat the other girls. You both got to the last match and Jimin was happy and giggling.

“Y/N, you’re amazing.” You blushed at that, maybe the alcohol finally got to you.

“Let’s win this thing!”

And after what felt like a half of an hour you beat the other girl down and everybody cheered for you two. When get down from Jimin shoulders, he embraced you in a hug.

“I can’t believe you did it. WE DID IT.” He got a big smile on his face that harmed you up.

But then you felt that it was too close for you and started panicking a little, that’s when Jimin closed the space between you two and got his lips on yours. Nobody seemed to notice or care for that matter, they were too drunk for this.

“Hum, I need to go to the bathroom…”

So you almost trip getting out of the pool and heading to upstairs where your clothes were.

▪♡▪

Your Monday’s classes were you favorites, even it being Monday, Econometrics and Statistics were the reasons you chased the Economics major. At the end of the morning classes you got a message from Kenny inviting you to lunch.

“Do you even know the hellhole I went through because of you?”

“I’m sorry.” She looked sad and you know why.

“Hey, I know that something went wrong Saturday. Was it Seokjin?”

“Yeah… He told me that he liked this girl and…” She was almost crying and you embrace her in a hug.

“Hey, it’s okay, you don’t need to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“No, I’m fine, it was just an enormous crush no biggie.” You started laughing with her at that.

“So… Did he ditched you to go to her?”

“I wish he has done that, he asked me to play Cupid for him. I’m so angry at myself that I did it. He’s not a bad guy but damn… I can’t believe he’s that stupid.”

“Let’s change the subject, how’s your midterm project going?” Kenny made part of the Art’s Department and everyone on it had to submit twice a year to the University Art Festival, even her Audiovisual major.

“I feel stuck, it’s like I can’t vision it anymore.”

She once told you that her project were about history of our city photography, I pity her because it seems a lot of work for just one person to do. But you know she can do it, her last year’s short film were amazing, she’s brilliant with artistic stuff.

“Isn’t it too much for just you?”

“Actually, this year I can make some freshmen work for me to earn credits. I just didn’t decide who it will be.”

“WHAT? You have two months until the deadline.”

“I know, okay. I’m doing interviews this afternoon. The difficult part is done, I have the materials treated but analyzing and selecting them is not my cup of tea.”

“How many are they?”

“Around 200.”

“Girl…”

“I know right? How could you imagine this city would be that interesting.”

You both laugh at that.

“So… Do you have some time? I don’t really like meeting new people alone and those freshmen just scare me to death.”

“Just two hours, I have Statistics at 3 pm.”

“Wow, your major schedule is crazy.”

Oh, yeah it is. Ghosting Jimin made you pass more time between classes than in your own house. Worthy though, the Math Department had a good Statistics teacher. The Art’s Department is not that far from the cafeteria so you get there pretty fast, the interviews will happen in an empty classroom near the auditorium.

“At what time will they be here?”

“Probably in 20 minutes.”

And the first freshmen entered the room, she was a small girl with a timid smile called Mariam. She seemed fine but a little too clumsy, almost falling to sit on the chair.

“What are some of your interests in our department?”

“I like filmmaking and photography”

“Did you ever made part of an art project before?”

“Not really, I didn’t study arts in High School.” At that me and Kenny looked at each other, it is extremely difficult getting to any artistic related major without having any background. It’s like getting to a Med School without doing biology.

“How did you choose your degree?”

“Well… I always liked the cinematography studies I did for a Movie Club we hold with our history teacher. I never went to practice on it but I know the basics on cameras.”

“Right, I think you’re the only one showing up so…”

“Wait! I’m sorry, Mr. Rogers extended his class.” Two men entered the room with heavy breaths probably from running here. The one who talked had a quite long hair and was a little tanned. The other one… wait a minute, you knew him from the party, he was the one playing online games in his room.

“It’s fine… I know how Mr. Rogers is.”

“Well Mariam, I will let you know the results by email.” The interview continued with the one called Taehyung, but what you were looking at was Jungkook. He seemed to notice it as he stared at you for a second after turning his head away blushing.

“So you both are freshman?”

“Well… I’m a sophomore but I switched majors this year.”

In the end of the interview Kenny looked amused with Taehyung and his portfolio. Then it was Jungkook’s turn.

“Then… Jungkook, right?” He nodded “I’ve heard a lot about you in Ms. Turner class, you seem to be her favorite of your year.”

She knew him too?

“I… I’m sure it’s not true, she’s just very generous.” Kenny smiled at that, you knew that this one professor was hell on earth when it comes to personality.

“Okay, what editing programs can you work with?”

“PS, Illustrator, Corel, Lightroom and Luminar.”

“Well, have you worked with curation of photos for an exhibition?”

“Yes, back in High School.”

At the end of the interview you were running late for your class so you stared heading to the Math Department building. But before you could proceed, you saw Jungkook standing at the exit.

“Hum… Thank you for helping me at the party.”

“It was nothing.” He looked surprised that I talked to him directly. “I know how these parties are… Are you from the department?”

“Oh, no. Actually I’m just Kenny’s friend.”

“Well… I gotta go.”

“Hum… Yeah, see you.”

The man surely was not what you expected from the BTS frat house, he seemed a little lost and timid but maybe it was because you didn’t know him that well. One thing you’ve learned the past year is that you can’t be sure based on first impressions. 

▪♡▪

In the end Kenny opted for going with the last two freshmen but you didn’t see any of them for the next tree weeks. You and Kenny were lunching at the cafeteria when the both of them sat on the same table as you.

“Hey guys, are you done with the descriptions yet?” Kenny seemed worried, her deadline is next month.

“Not really, there are some things we would like to discuss about it.” Taehyung said.

“What about it?”

“I don’t think the photos make sense together yet.” That’s when Kenny took a long breath.

“I know right? But I don’t know what to do anymore.”

They all seemed lost on it. “Can I take a look on it?”

All three of them were surprised but Taehyung showed you the project on a folder. The images were incredibly good in quality for the time it was taken, but they didn’t seem to be from the same city. But one took your attention, it was a small market that was in front of your house with some old man in front of it.

“Why don’t you talk to these people? Maybe they can give you a hint of how these photos could make sense together.” Kenny scoffed at you.

“And where would we find them, on the cemetery?”

“No, dummy. This market is the one in front of my house, maybe you can talk to people nearby and see if there is someone from that time still alive, it’s called Oral History and maybe I can go with you and take some notes for my microeconomics class project.”

A/N: Even if this part ended up being longer, I don’t know if I really like it. I’ll try to do better for part 3, send me any feedback you think I need :)

[schoolastica]

Writer in the dark

Starker AU. Based on the song by Lorde. Also in my AO3 profile, as ilikesadstories.

Break the news, you’re walking out

To be the good man to someone else

His bags are by the Penthouse door. Tony has a lump on his throat and a Tablet in his hands showing the headlines:” Stark and Parker are officially done!!!.”

Peter has a lump in his throat and the Penthouse keys in his hands. He already said goodbye to Edith, Tony’s dalmatian, and he cleared the place of anything that belonged to him. No reason to stretch the pain more than it needs to. Tony’s back is turned on him. 

He wants to scream, to command Tony to the acknowledgment that he's leaving. He does no such thing. Tony only starts to cry when he hears the elevator doors closing. That’s it; that’s three years of relationship on a ride to the lobby. Tony suppose they have been rotten for a long time, they just didn’t want to let it go, not just yet. But it happened. After three years, 2 cop-related problems, 4 major fights, 1 photo of Tony cheating.

They hanged more than most people would. 

Sorry, I was never good like you.

 Tony Stark wasn’t a good man. Not good like Rhodes was, or good like Steve was, not nearly as a good man as Peter Parker was. He was rotten through and through, too old, too spoiled. He was a writer, he made his fortune written the sci-fi book series called “Avengers” when he was 15 and bored. All of the characters were based on his friends at the time, friends that didn’t even keep contact with him now. But he made money, real money. Enough to start his publisher, the Stark Royal Seal, worth billions, now that he was at his 50’s.It seemed like an eon ago when he was young and excited about being famous. 

That was a time, right at the beginning, that Tony loved press, every tabloid about him, good or bad, was a prize. He was 15, inexperienced and easily lead on. By his 20, he was a world-wide playboy, he never stopped being. Now, a much older man, he had written 20 novels, 15 for the Avengers series(and he's not going back to writing it, Steve deserves a rest) and 5 romances, 3 of them were a critic failure.

Now he gets to live in his big, brand new Penthouse in the middle of Manhattan, all alone; because the love of his life is going down the elevator to never come back. As he lays down, crying in the fetal position, feeling a pain he only ever felt when his parents died, he thinks he will write a novel about hurt the next morning.

 Bet you rue the day you kissed a writer in the dark 

Their first meeting was a thing from the movies. Tony Stark, the acclaimed writer, the same man that was in a sex-tape leaked last week at the same time to have a billion contract with Netflix to produce the film adaptations of his book series, had to make a commemorative reading of the 30th year of the release of Avengers: The year of the fallen.This event was the most waited for in his whole schedule, Pepper had been talking about it, how he should be dressed and how he should behave since January. 

The reading would be more symbolic than anything, it would take place in the first bookstore Tony ever did the first reading, Schmidt & Cia Bookstore. It only fits about 300 hundred people there, so the tickets at 500$ each were sold out in 40 minutes and about 10 of them were donated to raffle to the NY Writing course students.  When the day came, Tony drank so much in anxiety that Pepper almost had a fit. She arrived at the Penthouse, threw the last of his expensive scotch in the sink and practically made him look presentable. Pepper had been with him since he was 18, they had a brief romance in the ’90s but now, seeing at how they behaved, it made sense to broke up, she was more of a mother to him than anything.

 So here they were, once again at the front of Schmidt & Cia Bookstore. The building was still intact, even after years, all its colors and its old sign at the front of the window. The major difference was that now, at least a thousand of hallucinated fans were surrounding it, all screaming when his car, drove by Happy, approached. When he got out, the did the usual: smiled to everyone, old or young, talked to some reports and flirted around. He only wanted to come out of the little room they had prepared for him when the time of the reading came. When that happened, he lifted himself a little podium to speak and looked around the little crown that gathered around him.

 Some faces there surprised him, they were middle-aged men, by the end of the room, witch Tony knew were powerful. All of them looking eagerly for his words. The ones closer to the podium were pretty, extremely young. His gaze wandered in each of their faces, landing on the prettiest boy he ever laid eyes upon.  Curly, brown hair, smooth and fair skin(probably never touched) and a Cherubin's face. His brown eyes were sparkling while he held a hold, absolutely worn down a copy of his book, close to his heart. He was probably from the NY Writing course.

 It seems like a foolish thing now, how Tony took one good look at that open and fresh face and got his strength from there. But he did. He smiled at the cameras pointed at him and said: “I want to start this reading by saying that a lot has changed since the first time I did this. People came and people left, but throughout all of this, I always had this crew” he lifted the heavy book as in indicating what he was saying,” to help me”. And with that, he began the reading. The first chapter was pretty much introductory, Captain America was aboard the spaceship J.A.R.V.I.S in search of his long lost crew that was lost in their last mission. The chapter had about 4 pages of text, and while reading it, Tony couldn't stop thinking how his first draft wasn't much different than this, and how his writing style had changed since he was 15. 

When the chapter was over, everyone stood to give him a minute of applause and all of the journalists present shouted questions about him, about his legacy. He tried to ignore it because now it was time for him to give his autographs.Pepper and their team set up a little table, in front of a wall full of posters from the books, where Tony would sit and sign everything that 300 people wanted him too. He had his special pen for this, alongside with a bucket full of ice for his tired hands and a sly smile and soothing words for everyone. Tony had probably given his signature to about 100 people when he received the old and worn down first edition of his book. 

Surprised, he looked up to see that beautiful and shy boy fixing his glasses while looking at him, blushing. If Tony was a good man, an honorable man, he would have smiled and signed the book without a word, being polite but not curious about this youngster in front of him. But he was a nasty, nasty man. He smiled his sweet smile, the one he knew made people’s knees buckle and said:” You must be quite a nerd to spend this kind of money in a first edition, Mr……?’ he fished for a name. “Oh’ the boy seemed surprised that Tony recognized the book “This was a gift, actually,” The boy said.

Tony kept looking at him, for a more elaborate story.“My dad bought it when it first came out’ the boy’s voice was soft and open as his face was “He gave it to me one month before he died. That's why I want you to dedicate it to ‘Richard and Peter Parker” if that's not a bother’ he said, his voice disappearing through the sentence. Tony analyzed him, smiled broader, and wrote: To Richard and Peter Parker, always in each other's hearts. He got the book back to its owner and said:” What are you doing after this?”. 

 Bet you rue the day you kissed a writer in the dark

They meet that same night, in a new restaurant called Francesco's Dark Dinner. The whole thing was a weird concept, a place where you had to use all your senses minus the sight, and it a young, youthful place. Tony suggested an old, well-known restaurant, with fine culinary but Peter had said that it was a place with great Italian food. He arrived earlier and waited for his partner to arrive while listening to the conversation around him. 

When Peter arrived, he couldn't see how he was dressed or if he had a good day, the only thing he was glad he could do was smell a sweet, strawberry scent that he basked in. Their conversation was fluid, vivid, along with truly great food (Tony was really satisfied with his dishes) and Peter was, in no short of words, a true genius. He was in the NY Writing program and he was older than what he looked like, he was 20 years old. He was an only child, like Tony, who lost his parents at a young age, like Tony, but he never drank or took anything, unlike Tony. He almost didn't get a place at today's reading, his name was the last call, and he had cried of happiness when he got it. He was extremely polite and his voice stutters every time Tony brushed their hands together.

He was a prey ready and ripe for the taking.

 When they kissed, Peter tasted like youth.  

Stood on my chest and kept me down

Hated hearing my name on the lips of a crowd

Did my best to exist just for you

They had been great, really good for each other in the first year. Tony decided to be the best version of himself, he was punctual and caring. He introduced Peter to Pepper, Rhodes, and Happy as his boyfriend and he demanded respect. They pretended to dislike the boy at the beginning, saying he was too young and naive, but Tony saw Pepper’s hidden smirks, Rhodes open laughs at Peter’s stupid space jokes and saw how protective Happy became of him.

Peter's friends were a completely different story. MJ was a force to fight with, she looked at Tony as if he had killed Santa Claus with his bare hands. Ned was a funny goofy person, saw no evil in no one. Tony took them to Conney Island and they hang around the pier till sunset. During all this time, Ned would’ve shut up and MJ said about 3 words. It didn’t matter though, because Peter had smiled so wide all the time and when they went back to Tony’s place, he rode Tony’s cock like a champion.

Sex with Peter was a whole different experience. Either if they fucked quick and dirty or slow and passionate, it always made Tony shine with joy afterward. When he was younger, Tony had the habit of smoking a cigarette after a good fuck, but that ended when he quit smoking. Now, after leaving Peter sleeping in his bed, he develops the habit of writing. He starts writing and does it through the night. At the beginning, it’s just some short stories or he just describes what he just did with Peter(in very raw, crude words) but as the months are passing, it starts to form a romance novel. It’s about two man, not quite right for each other and every time Tony needs inspiration, he looks over at Peter, peaceful sleeping, his back shining with the sweat of their past activity and he has all the words he needs.

Peter was on the edge of finishing his degree and had an internship with the Osborn publishing, Tony offered him a place at his own company, Peter said no. He wats to grow alone, working in newspapers and them to release his own novel someday. Peter really wants to write a romance, but he secretly enjoys writing children’s books, actually. It really tells a lot about his personality. They are really into each other in their first year. Peter graduates and Tony is there with beautiful aunt May and Peter’s friends to celebrate. They go on summer vacation in Tony’s village in Italy and they make love under the stars there. When New Year’s Eve arrives, their picture was featured in all the major gossip magazines and Peter goes to Tony’s annual party.

 When the watch hits 0, they kiss so deeply that Tony can taste Peter’s soul. Now she's gonna play and sing and lock you in her heart7 months after their break up, Tony is releasing his first book since having crushed his heart. ‘Resorsfullness’ its called. Its a tragedy, it was developed from that first romance novel Tony had begun to write during the first year with Peter. After they broke up, his writing became bitter and it slowly morphed into an epic love tragedy. 

Pepper said it was the best works he ever did, she organized a huge US Tour and the marketing is heavy on this one. He drinks his weight and cries himself to sleep every night, but his life is still together. He still googles Peter’s name weekly and finds out that he’s releasing a second children’s book next fall. He pretends to be fine when he’s around his friends, but the only person he cant pretend to is Pepper. She sees right through all his bullshit, she invades his penthouse one day and pours his drinks in the sink and clean his kitchen. She screams at him when he wakes up and almost cries when Tony starts crying. She holds him through it all and just loves him for all he is.

I am my mother's child, I'll love you 'til my breathing stops

I'll love you 'til you call the cops on me

The first time the cops are called for them, they are dating for 19 months and they are getting tired. Tony drinks a lot, everyone knows that. Peter knows that, but he doesn’t like it. So they go to one gathering party of The Daily Budge, the newspaper Peter is working for. Tony always thought J.J. Jameson was funny, but the guy used Peter like he was a slave and pissed him off. To add up, Peters coworker, Quentin Beck, was a little shit.Peter never hid from anyone in his relationship, so Beck knew who he was seeing. Still, the guy would hit on Peter heavily and whenever he talked to Tony, he implied how old Tony was, how Peter was probably unsatisfied and that he was useless. Tony punched him, Peter screamed at Tony and they left the party in a huge arguing.

Tony gave Happy the day off so they decided to walk to and from the party, so they went the whole way to their home. At some point, they screamed so much that a passing by called the cops. It wasn’t pretty, they were on the next day’s highest searched subject on google.

The second time the cops were involved was when Tony was banging on Peter’s door at three am, begging for forgiveness, 2 weeks before they split.

But in our darkest hours, I stumbled on a secret power

I'll find a way to be without you baby

Tony’s strength cames back to him together with his words. Pepper clean his house sets him up straight and takes him to long walks in Central Park with Edith. Tony promise to stop drinking for once, he joins an AA and Rhodes and Happy take turns taking him there. Edith is the best pal he ever had, loves him and makes him do exercises every day. 

The ache in his chest slowly fades, still there, but not so latent anymore. The first work he does, besides the hurt book that Pepper makes it be a success, is poems. He never wrote poems before, but the words bleed from him every sunrise and every sunset. He’s sitting in a Central Park bench, throwing a ball to Edith, that runs excited around the park, when he watches a small family picknick. He sees how the father acts with his 2 children, and watches how they sit eagerly to read ‘Polka dot dog’ by Peter Parker when the first seed of his idea is planted on the back of his mind.

He spends the next month searching about kids and by the end, he meets with Pepper to discuss having children. Tony knows she always wanted to be a mom, never found someone quite right, but when he brings that up she just laughs at him. ‘You can’t be serious, you don’t even look after yourself” she tells him. He promise he changed, that he’s ready, but it still takes her 2 months to come around the idea.They visited a Fertility clinic right after that. 

They weren’t good for each other romantically, but they are the best of the friends and the doctor says they have a good chance to conceive. 16 months after they broke up, Pepper is confirmed to be pregnant, and Tony’s heart hurt is almost healed.

I still feel you, now and then

Slow like pseudo-ephedrine

When you see me, will you say I've changed?

I ride the subway, read the signs

I let the seasons change my mind

I love it here since I've stopped needing you

Peter was, without better words to put it, Tony’s first love. He had loved that boy as much as he could, as hard as he could, but it hadn’t been enough. He experienced his first true heartbreak late in life, but now he feels it all was worth it. His daughter, Morgan, was his true love, he knew that.

She was 5 years old and she was perfect. Tony hadn’t touched a bottle of alcohol for almost 6 years now, Pepper was so proud of that. Pepper was his best friend, she was his rock of moral rightness. They lived separated, but they were 5 minutes away from each other, Morgan was starting to walk between the houses all by herself. The last book Tony published was called ‘Parenthood and all the things I didn’t know how to do’ and it was his first attempt at poems, all about parenting. It was a huge success. But Morgan didn’t like his writing. She loves small, funny little children’s books and her favorite book was Mrs.Penguin by Peter Parker. His heart stopped every time she asked him that book as a goodnight story.

 On his Sunday with her, Pepper looked apologetic to him and said she had promised to take her to a reading of the newest book Peter was going to publish but she had a party to go. He feels bile rising in his throat but he smiles and takes Morgan to see her first favorite author. The bookstore the reading is happening is small but childlike and Morgan looks amazed.

 The book is named ‘The sunflower and the frog’ and when Peter shows up to do the reading, he looks straight at Tony and smiles. Morgan is not exactly a secret, Tony and Pepper are constantly at the news, and when its time for autographs, Tony had to wait in line for 50 minutes till Morgan got her chance. Peter looks dashing, 29 years old and beaming with health and fashion. He now looks more like a man than he did before, so pretty that Tony aches. Peter gives Morgan a big smile and asks if she likes his books. The girl is absolutely besotted by the young author, opening up like a little flower and Tony can’t help thinking that Starks always falls for Parkers. Peter gives her full attention and only looks at Tony when he’s signing the book.

 He says, looking at Tony’s eyes: “I’m writing: To my dear Morgan, the happiest girl I’ve known’ and when he delivers the book back to Morgan he looks at Tony and says: What are you doing after this?

[moreinterestingonline]

Old Blogs

5/11/20If I was pressed, truly reamed and grilled, for the location of where the last five days went, I would not be able to produce a satisfactory answer. It seems like they just flew by with neither rhyme nor reason.What I’ve been thinking about during these past five days wouldn’t fit in a blog post, but I can highlight one central topic: world building. I’ve been trying to write three novels this year. I often get asked if it’s difficult to keep the worlds separate from one another. I usually answer with a “It’s really not that difficult” or segue into a cute anecdote about my dog, since most people aren’t interested in an actual answer. To those prepared to listen, I hand them a “yes and no.”No, it’s not as hard as it seems because I use one to escape the others. The worlds must be different, unique, and distinctive because any bleeding through wouldn’t offer me the complete new reality I crave when I am struck with writer’s block. I try to think of it as preparing for a triathlon. Sure, you use similar muscle groups to run, bike, and swim, but you don’t show up to the pool in track cleats because the detail would be identified as alien immediately.Yes, it is hard because the same overarching themes will appear as they will in an work of mortals. What kind of story would it be if there isn’t a struggle of good and evil? Would it be listed with the best sellers if there wasn’t an endearing mentor who gets killed at the beginning of the adventure? Oh? Too far? Even so, the themes that have defined my life will more than likely pop up in more than one of my books. I will have to work then even harder on my characters and their environments.These considerations are important to my approach to world building. I must carefully paint with three different pallets the physical attributes of each of my worlds. I must be cautious of what the careful reader might notice. I do not reuse sets or scripts. Still, as I compose three separate works, the ideas I believe in will show up in these different colors. I am only one writer with one perception of reality. I am extremely limited in my quest to entertain masses. All I can do is work and revise and work again, and hope that there are other people willing to step into my shoes.Personally, not a lot has been going on. Today was the first day in I don’t know how long that I did all the hygiene an average person would do in one day. I’ve started bullet journaling again and texted my goals to my best friend so I have accountability. My project right now is to make looking and feeling good my job for one month. My personal hygiene has become so neglected as I have sunk deeper and deeper into my depression. The other day, I just woke up with the motivation to turn that part of my life around.I know it’s only been one day, but it’s been so long since I actually achieved something in this area and I’ve been so sad that I thought I should celebrate this step.I’m so tired, but I wanted to get one more thing checked off my list tonight before I go to sleep.Sometimes I wonder if it’s time to learn another language. I feel like most people my age have at least two languages under their belt where I have just the one. I want to be considered bright and I feel like this is the next step.Here is the point again where I consider sleep less important than the things I could be doing instead of sleeping. Where is this little voice coming from? What is so dark inside us that wants us to fail? How can you ride a ship you’re preparing to sink? Is it fear that wants to personify it? Make it a separate entity so I can’t be to blame for my own bad habits? Who knows.I’m beginning to enjoy television, which is sort of new for me. I wonder if it means my attention span has finally reached null. Sure, there have been very well done productions I’ve been a fanatic for in the past, but I’ve never been able to turn on a random show and just enjoy. I’ve almost finished watching all the Storage Wars available on Netflix. I never thought I’d be the kind of person that turns to reality television, but here we are. Maybe this is how quarantine truly breaks me. If I don’t have focus, I don’t have anything. I’m beginning to nod off. I really want to reach a thousand words before I go to sleep. That means no editing whatsoever, just stream of consciousness. It’s been feeling more like a dry creek bed lately. I could stare at the ceiling for hours. I could sleep all day and not be bored. I know that’s concerning. I’ve already made an appointment with my doctor about switching my medications. I just want to feel like I did when I was in second grade, seventh grade, ninth grade. There is so much left for me to do here that it feels overwhelming.Nearly there. That gibberish sure helped. Take this as an example, kind reader, of what I usually cut out for your benefit and mine. It’s okay, I know no one is reading this. I just need to allow the chance for someone to hear what the people in my life can’t hear for themselves. I’m so scared of being a burden that I don’t know how to open up to people I meet in real life. It’s either I don’t want them to know my middle name to “What’s your mother like and how did that affect your psychological development?” That’s it, thanks.

5/6/20

Alas, another day has passed and! I’m still depressed. How did that happen? Did I make zero changes and expect something to happen? Maybe. But I did wish for it really really hard. (I know, in THIS economy??)

Silliness and vague misdirection aside, today sucked. I spent the morning in a weird, unawake haze because I hadn’t slept. The afternoon dragged on as I crammed for my Modern Grammar which (and now here’s the real kicker) kicked me good in the pants. Lastly, I told my roommates that I plan on moving out and they did not take it well. All this contributed to a day ill spent.

I don’t know where my weird relationship with sleep came from. Logically, I know that I need sleep. I know that sleep will do me well and allow my body to get ready for another day. One day, a little voice crept into my mind and told me that sleep was optional. I haven’t been able to shut it off since. Need extra time to study? Want to get to the next level? Only another hour before your friend in another timezone wakes up? Might as well pull an all-nighter. Objects in motion, after all.

I’m also out of my sleeping medication. And I haven’t been taking my medication. I’m struggling and I’m lacking the discipline to push myself the extra mile to potentially getting better. I think what I need are some small victories. Already, I am writing. I am journaling. I am crossing small things off my list in a desperate attempt for dopamine. Desperate, yes, but shameful? Absolutely not. It feels like I’m running a marathon underwater, but I still intend to finish. It’s just going to take me a little longer.

At one point and time, I was filming taking my medication every day and posting a little mental check on Youtube. That was good, until I missed one day, and then three days, and now it’s been almost a month. I just feel so guilty over any reveal of failure or shortcoming. How am I supposed to come back from showing that I’m not perfect?

I don’t know if this needs to be said, but if I were talking to my friend in the same situation, I would reassure them 1000% that I would love them no matter what, especially through their imperfections. It’s not that I set the bar lower for my friends than I do for myself, but I am a lot harder on me when I don’t meet my expectations. I guess that comes with being a wild romantic, right? Reality is that blinding white light that pierces through daydream. The clear solution is to have more realistic daydreams, but those aren’t nearly as fun.

Small victories, eh? What goals can I set for myself?

It’s late. I should go to bed. Today was rough and on top of everything I’m dehydrated. I hate complainers and hypocrites. I shall bless your feed with another rambling posthaste, rest allowing.

5/5/20

I’m going to pretend I didn’t see the clock strike midnight and write this from the perspective of today, May the 5th. A good, round-numbered day to start something new. I’ve always been fond of round numbers. I’ve always been fond of clean slates.

My central problem in life right now is that I’m depressed. I don’t like myself. I don’t like what I do with my time. Everything seems pointless. I lack purpose, direction, inspiration. I love the world and find myself submerged in curiosity often enough, but I don’t apply myself towards meaningful goals. My lack of application is the root of my unhappiness. If I wasn’t me, I wouldn’t want to be friends with me. And that invokes a whole other can of worms; namely insecurity, impostor syndrome, and low standards. But I digress.

I. Want. To. Be. Happy. I want to feel like I am making progress. I don’t want to feel vaguely ill anymore. I don’t think I should have to live with boredom as my default emotion. I don’t want to have to repress anything anymore.

How can I be happy? Well, isn’t that the age-old question. If there was a simple, clear-cut answer, I would bottle it and become a billionaire. Instead of a product, though, I have the following goals.

In order to be happy, I need to take care of my body. I need to be kinder to the vessel through which I experience all happiness, through which I enact all acts of generosity. What will this look like? For one, I would like to have a “glow-up”. I would like to have a before and after photo-set that I can look at and be proud of. This will mean skincare, daily showering, healthy eating, and regular exercise. I can’t expect myself to be happy in an unkempt body.

I am going to execute this goal by applying a hygiene routine, researching daily workouts, and keeping track of what goes into my body. I will also take the time to do silly, frivolous things like put on eyeliner and curl my hair simply because it makes me happy. I will have a more coordinated plan by tomorrow. For now, I research.

In order to be happy, I need to take care of my brain. Practice makes perfect and no practice makes mush. I don’t want a pile of mush directing the rest of my life. I want a clean, sharp machine dictating my every move. I want the gears to shift as smoothly as a well-oiled watch. I want to feel as efficient as I did in high school, when I was taking college courses and researching off-curriculum subjects just to ease my questioning mind.

I am going to execute this goal by finishing my semester strong, spending dedicated time each day towards active learning, and planning monthly projects. I will also find ways to implement healthy curiosity in my daily conversations. I was a “why” child. Why is the sky blue? Why is the grass green? Why do we have ten fingers and ten toes but only two ears? Why? Why? Why? I want to transition back to that motivated, inquisitive mindset. As with taking care of my body, I will have a more decisive plan for this goal tomorrow.

In order to be happy, I need to take care of my soul. One of the biggest reasons I’ve been increasingly unhappy these past months (or even years, you could argue) is because I am simply not creating more than I am consuming. A great joy that is allowed us is pure creation. I am tired of sitting passively while muses give up on me, moving onto to the next open mind. I want to build up my patience for writer’s block, to give in to the urge to write badly rather than not write at all.

I am going to execute this goal by setting word counts for myself daily depending on my schedule, setting due dates for my projects, and holding myself accountable with creative partners. I know I have stories to tell, characters to illustrate, worlds to discover. I have always felt that within myself. “I contain multitudes.” There is opportunity here, if I am only willing to open the door. I’m a firm believer that nothing worth having comes without effort, but I’ve been sitting idly anyways. What hypocrisy.

Those are my main goals. This slate is no longer clean. I have marked it with intent.

I’ve always like clean slates because it feels better to start something new rather than digging yourself out of a hole of failure. Let me acknowledge, I am buried deep under years and years of bad habits and ill-fated mindsets. I have allowed myself to sink to this depth. It is no one’s fault but my own. I am not trying to say anything different that, nor will I ever attempt to blame someone other than myself for my circumstances. This has been my doing and my doing alone. So, when I say clean slate, you know that I know that there is no such thing as a clear state. I am merely marking a line in the sand to cross over and become a different person. Hopefully.

This has gone on for too long. I sent a goal of 1000 words per day. Initially, I was wondering if that would be enough, or if it would be too little. Would I be boring whoever came across my articles of dis-wisdom? Would I be leaving them without adequate information to ever bother reading something of mine again? We don’t really know the fate of our goals when we set them. We pin our hopes to them like ribbons, we shower them with expectations, but we can’t ever really know how things will turn out. I can’t say for certain that i will ever complete these goals, but I cannot let that discourage me. After all, this has been 1000 words.

[nitrateglow]

Halloween 2017 movie marathon: Midnight Ride (dir. Bob Bralver, 1990)

“Cut the crap, doc-- I’m still killing people!”

Russian immigrant Laura (Savina Gersak) takes off in the middle of the night to leave her workaholic cop husband Lawson (Michael Dudikoff), much to his chagrin. She plans on bunking with a friend until she can come to a final decision as to what to do about her miserable marriage, but unwisely picks up a seemingly innocuous hitch-hiker. His name is Justin McKay (Mark Hamill) and it turns out he’s recently escaped from a mental hospital where he was being treated for his erratic behavior and homicidal urges. Enamored with Laura because she reminds him of his dead sister, he kidnaps her and plans on taking her to his shrink Dr. Hardy (Robert Mitchum—yes THAT Robert Mitchum) so she can be “made better” via frying her brains out with electroshock equipment. However, Lawson is in pursuit of them all the while, intent on getting his wife back. Knife murders, car chases, bad dialogue, synthesizer music, and explosions ensue.

Why isn’t Midnight Ride a cult movie? I always ask myself this question when I watch this 1990 masterpiece of action-horror schlock. Goodness knows it has everything a so-bad-it’s-good cult classic should possess: over-the-top action scenes, cheesy but quotable dialogue, mostly terrible acting, and none other than Mark Hamill at his Mark Hammi-est playing a gleefully homicidal slasher villain on the lookout for love. How can you read that sentence and remain able to resist seeing this movie? HOW?

Midnight Ride can be viewed either as a genre-mash-up or as suffering from an identity crisis. Several action scenes are peppered throughout the movie, particularly car chases since the primary setting is the night road. Some might question my classification of Midnight Ride as a horror film, considering how enamored it is with action set-pieces, but there are tons of classic slasher elements at play here: the stalking, the murder sprees, the fact that no matter how many mortal blows you deal him Justin just won’t freaking die! To be fair, the horror scenes are far less scary than anything you could find in a darker Disney film like Pinocchio because they are so ineptly handled, but hell, you can tell the filmmakers were trying to frighten the audience. Take for example that glorious moment Justin kills a woman with a fake eye and steals said fake eye to give to Laura as a present. This should be pretty grisly, but all the murders are kept offscreen. And that is a trend here. For a slasher movie, we sure don’t get that much blood or gore or much explicit nastiness at all.

Don’t get me wrong: a movie does not need to have eye-gouging or much onscreen violence in order to be frightening: The Night of the Hunter never shows anyone being murdered onscreen, yet it is one of the scariest movies I have ever seen! The same could be said of several of the movies I’m reviewing this month, which often suggest the nastiness of their killings without showing much outright. But the thing is, in a slasher film, you expect a bit more, well, slashing. Or at the very least for the murders to appear like they were nasty or horrifying. But the thing is, a lot of the suspense should come from us fearing for Laura’s life, which might have happened were she likable and not a dim-witted non-entity with all the charisma of that plastic eyeball Justin pilfers. The only scary scene in the movie doesn’t involve Laura at all, but a young woman who hitches a ride with Laura and Justin after Justin defends her from an abusive boyfriend. When they drop her off at her house, Justin follows her inside, toys around with her, and then kills her in what is truly an uncomfortable scene. In the ten minutes or less this minor character is onscreen, we feel more sympathy for her and sorrier to see her get knifed than we ever feel for Laura. I imagine this has a lot to do with this scene perhaps feeling more realistic and less comic-book-ish than much of the other horror and action set pieces in the movie. Hamill is also truly frightening here, lending a disturbing sexual touch to the murder; after he flicks open his knife, Justin seems overcome with an agitated ecstasy.

Let’s be real, this movie is the Mark Hamill Show as the other characters are mostly morons, especially Laura and Dr. Hardy. At least Lawson has some enjoyably cheese-ball lines, like when he reprimands a trash-talking trucker by shouting, “Look man, I’m tired, I’m pissed, and I’m ready to kill!” in the most gloriously hammtastic manner. Dudikoff was a B-movie icon of the 1980s; however, I haven’t seen the American Ninja movies or other projects he was involved with, so I cannot comment if this is one of his better moments as a thespian. As it is, he makes the character more charming than he probably deserves. Lawson is ostensibly the hero of the piece, but he comes off as slightly less creepy than Justin. At the beginning of the movie, his wife is unhappy and begs him to leave her alone, at least to give her time to cool down, but nope! Lawson cares not a bit about her boundaries and appears insensitive as hell. Then again, if he wasn’t following her around, I guess no one would have saved Laura from certain death. Hooray?

Needless to say, Dudikoff and Hamill are Olivier and DeNiro compared to everyone else in the cast list. Poor Laura can’t seem to make a rational decision to save her life (literally); her demeanor is that of a total ditz. Her dialogue recitation straddles this strange gap between flat and laughably melodramatic, making an act as simple as tearfully begging for her life unintentionally funny since she seems to not care that much whether she gets away from crazy old Justin or not. She is so annoying that this is one case where you root for the heroine to get blown up.

And what can I say about Dr. Hardy? Oh man, does Robert Mitchum not give a damn in this movie. He looks bored and like he wants to pass out. Not a single line of his is read with even an ounce of what you might call conviction or enthusiasm. Case in point, when Justin ties Hardy to a chair and tries frying Laura in front of him, he looks at the horrific turn of events the way one might look at a screening of The Last Airbender: slightly surprised at how terrible it all is, but mostly bored and wondering when it’ll be over. If the characters in a movie don’t seem that affected by the crazy horror stuff, then why should the audience be?

Midnight Ride is saved from being an irritating experience by Mark Hamill as Justin McKay, the sociopathic photographer with sister issues. I once came across a review that claimed Hamill’s performance isn’t that wonderful because “playing a crazy person isn’t hard.” What inane logic! While I’m not so sure if Hamill’s performance is “realistic,” it is very entertaining and a lot of that entertainment value comes from Hamill. Some of the time, he feels like he’s doing a campy impersonation of Norman Bates with his puppy-dog look and incestuous fixation on a female family member. The other part of the time, he’s straight-up Joker, cackling madly and enjoying the mischief he causes. Hamill’s line readings of choice dialogue like the sing-songy, “I’m not goin’ till I get a pic-ture!” when he insists Laura let him take photos of her while she drives or “Don’t you ever run away from me!” are so deliciously over-the-top that if you re-watch this movie as I do, you’ll be reciting them as they come up. (My favorite Mark moment is when Laura offers herself to Justin in exchange for her freedom and Hamill just says in the most disappointed tone possible, “You’re acting like a slut!”) And as I mentioned previously, there is that one fleeting scene in which he is allowed to be scary. So, Hamill definitely wasn’t phoning this one in and he is a joy to watch throughout.

And in no scene is Hamill a greater joy to watch than in the film’s insane climax. I cannot do this climax justice with mere words and I won’t dare give any of its pleasures away to those who have not experienced this classic. Let’s just say Justin somehow gets hold of a four-wheeler and chases Lawson around. In a hospital. There is much punching and appropriation of scary surgical instruments. And the film’s final scare is pure magic. Also notice how seconds after that last horrific moment, the credits come up accompanied by smooth, cheesy jazz music.

Since the film is only available on VHS, the image quality isn’t so good. Everything is smudgy and the already dark look of the movie can sometimes make it hard to see what’s happening. Even with a better transfer, I’m not so sure this movie’s look would rank among the likes of Kubrick or Kurosawa. Being that deadly combination of extremely low budget and incompetent on a technical level, Midnight Ride is not exactly a cinematic feast. The editing in particular is BAD, particularly during the action scenes, where the editor chose to cut to things that only disrupt the kinetic energy that should be building, like when Justin has Lawson tied down to the front of a vehicle and he’s driving like hell. On more than one occasion, the editing is so amateurish that you have to wonder if the editor was trying to sabotage the movie. It’s kind of impressive.

If this movie sounds like your idea of a good time, then I want you to do something: watch it with as many people as possible. Share it with your family. Tell all your friends too! Among my admittedly limited social circle are people with varying tastes in cinema; they do not always dig the movies I recommend and vice versa. But Midnight Ride is one movie that unites people regardless of taste, creed, race, sexual orientation, gender, or where you fall on the Marvel versus DC debate. You might not laugh at Some Like It Hot or Blazing Saddles, but you will laugh your ass off at Midnight Ride. Forrest Gump or Brokeback Mountain might not make you cry, but you’ll cry with laughter at Midnight Ride. This movie unites us, binds us, could be the path to world peace. No one will fight any longer, because we can all agree that Mark Hamill chasing Michael Dudikoff on a four-wheeler while Robert Mitchum in a doctor’s coat looks on with disinterest is the height of cinematic absurdism. God bless all the people involved in the making of this gem.

[rfassholes]

[PLATONIC} HC where MC time travels (from the future) and they meets the RFA guys and gal and they end up feeling protective over them for no reason? like ?? they don't feel any romantic love for this MC they just "oh hello stranger that I suddenly want to keep safe" ?? and it turns out that this MC is their future child and they were just curious to see how their parents were in the past. But when MC returns to her timeline the RFA's memories about them are deleted for their own safety though.

I’m really sorry if this one was short; If you’d like me to add more, please request it with specifics! I’m sorry if that sounds stupid, considering your request was detailed. I just c o u l d n ‘ t write for some reason. Anyways, I hope you like it even if they’re short!

Yoosung:

As a child, you were always told that your dad was an amazing veterinarian, but you could never go with him to work

However, you were given the opportunity to go see him at any point in his life, so you instantly thought of his college years

He always was kinda quiet about those

You ended up on a uni campus when you had gone back and recognized it as the one your dad had a diploma from

Walking around, you were able to get ahold of his class schedule and decided to attend a lecture he had that day

Once you got to the lecture hall, you looked around trying to find a kid with bright blond hair

Yoosung was texting under the desk on his phone when you walked over to sit by him

However, instead of walking, you ended up tripping quite badly and hit yourself on his desk and bolted up asking if you were okay

“Would you like me to go get ice or something?” “No, it’s alright; thank you, though” “Well, we’ve got a few minutes until the professor shows up.

What’s your name? I’m Yoosung Kim!”

Wait shit

Do you say your name?

Well, his memories of you are going to be erased anyways

“Uh, I’m MC. MC Kim. Nice to meet you, Yoosung” He smiled quickly and responded before taking his phone out again, “Pleasure’s mine!” “Who’re you texting?” “Just some friends. We’re throwing a party in a few days, and we’re still planning”

The professor walked in before you could ask any more questions and now you had to sit through it

Oh well, your dad was probably going to be taking notes the entire time so it’d probably be boring

Nope, he continued texting

That is, until the professor was telling him off and you could see him still messaging the chat

Tch, and you thought you were bad

When the professor walked away, he spoke again “Sorry if that scared you at all. I’d just rather pay attention to my friends than biology. Maybe I could give you my number, so I know that you’re okay? You hit yourself pretty hard on my desk” “Sorry, I don’t have a phone, but you’re quite nice for asking if I’m alright”

After the lecture ended, you gave a goodbye and walked around just a bit more before you had to go, wondering about that party he was talking about

Zen:

Okay, if your dad was a fairly famous actor, his life had to have been somewhat interesting

After all, he mentioned a motorcycle gang and you knew he used to smoke and drink quite a bit

When you traveled back, you wound up on a movie set and were able to find him easily from that white ass hair of his

Figuring you had to fit in, you took a water bottle from a PA and decided to go bring it to him

“Oh, thank you” “No problem” “Woah, who’re you? Don’t think I’ve seen that cute face around here”

Oh hell no

Seriously, Dad?

“Uh, um, I’m sixteen” “Alright? Oh. OH. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to-“ “Mhm. Anyways, I’m MC, Hyun” “How did yo-“ “Oh, um, bye! Have to go!”

You practically ran away, not noticing you took the water bottle with you

When you turned back around to make sure no security guards were following you, you saw him staring at you

Even though he wouldn’t remember this, the embarrassment still felt like it would matter

Walking quickly back over, you saw that he took out his phone and started texting, but you were determined to get it over with

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to-“ “It’s alright. I was just worried you were feeling sick or something” “No, it’s alright. Thanks, Dad”

dAMMIT, MC

This time you actually ran

Once you were back to your time, you couldn’t look at him for a solid three days

Jaehee:

Your mother was staying up again, running up numbers for the café, and you were curious as to how she was still working

Let alone alive

You had also heard that your family friend, Jumin Han, used to be her boss

That alone had you have so much respect for her

So when you were given the opportunity to go back to the time where she worked under him, you were excited to see her

That is, until you were asked by a dozen people to get coffees in an unfamiliar room of cubicles and doors leading to offices

You ended up borrowing some paper from a random woman and went around to get all the orders

It was kind of similar to what you did in the café sometimes, anyways

Dropping off all the coffees, you had four left that were for one office

When you went to find the number, you stopped at the placard by it that read ‘Jaehee Kang’

You were trying to balance all the cups when you twisted the doorknob ad you practically fell into the room

While trying to regain your balance, you ended up spilling a two of four all over yourself and you were trying not to yell out

Sure, you had spilt a few when you were running around the café, but this shit b u r n e d

Jaehee, on the other hand, was trying to help you the moment you stumbled through the door

She couldn’t stop the cups from tipping, but she grabbed the other two before those got dropped and set them on her desk

“Would you like me to get some napkins?” “Yes, please”

She was back in barely a minute along with some burn cream and an ice pack

“I’m really very sorry that you got hurt. It’s my fault for needing so much caffeine” “Don’t worry; it’s my job” “We haven’t had new interns here in a while, so thank you for helping out. Do you want the ice pack? It should help a bit”

You only nodded and tried to set it where you had gotten burned the most

“Maybe instead of getting everyone food, would you like to help me edit some reports?” “Sure, Mo-Ms. Kang” “Jaehee is alright; what’s your name?” “MC Kang” “There’s some pens on my desk. You can grab one and read through the green one, MC. Also, make sure you don’t keep the ice pack on it constantly. You might wind up with other burns”

You ended up staying there for a couple of hours and she told you to leave after it hit eleven pm

“Have a good evening, Jaehee” “You, too, MC. Stay safe tonight”

Seven:

Your parents were very hush hush about your dad’s old work and you slightly suspicious to say the least

When you were given the opportunity to see him on the job nearly twenty years ago, you instantly agreed

You kind of regretted it now, considering you were in the middle of a forest at night

It was odd to walk around by yourself when you barely see the moon from under the trees

A little voice in your head said that you were being tricked since you’d been walking around for a couple of minutes with no sign of the red-head

And then the shouting started

“Well, I’m sorRY, MARY. We can’t all be perfect when it comes to beating the shit out of people” “You’re lucky I had my taser, dumbass”

You tried to go by the voices but ending up falling over a rock and getting your ankle wedged between it and a log

“Do you think someone else made it out?” “Always check for good measure”

Two figures with swinging flashlights were walking towards you while you were trying to roll the log away

“Not an agent” “Yeah, not an agent. Were you trying to listen to us?”

That was the voice that sounded familiar out of the two so you tried to face them as best you could

“No, I was on a hike” “At two in the morning?” “Yeah” “Do you need help? It looks like you might’ve twisted something”

The other person in a garish looking outfit started speaking

“You know we can’t bring someone back” “But they look like they’re in pain” You decided to butt in, “It’s ‘cause I am, dumbass”

One person handed their flashlight to the one in the leopard print and walked over to help you roll the log away

When they offered a hand to help you up, you recognized them as your dad and gratefully took the support to get up

“707, you can’t take them back to the bunker with you” “Watch me” “Bu-“ “Their ankle is either rolled or sprained. Do you want them stumbling around these woods at this time?” “Well, no, but you have a jo-“ “And that job is to help others”

He helped you stand up properly to walk and started leading you towards a brightly colored car, much to the dismay of the other walking behind you two

You were driven to a bunker that you recognized from pictures with a blindfold over your eyes for safety measures

Your ankle was wrapped up and your few scrapes were cleaned before he offered to drive you back to wherever you were from

“Just a few miles from here should be fine. I’ll find my way back” “You sure?” “Yep” “I’m glad we were in the woods, or else you’d still be stuck there” “Probably, thank you again” “No need”

He was the one who ended up driving you to a random intersection after driving for a few minutes

When you were about to shut the door, he spoke again, “Hey, I didn’t catch your name” “I didn’t throw it, Saeyoung”Jumin:

Being from an extremely well off family, you were curious as to how your father used to run the company

Your grandfather had only died a year or two ago and that’s when you got more involved with it

You could watch him be the big boss whenever you went to the office building

But what about when he was only the heir?

Granted, he was a director, but it still intrigued you when you had the chance to go back in time to see him

You were now standing in a hallway of what looked to be the upper stories of an office building that you easily recognized

While you were walking around taking in how the building used to look, a white cat ran past you

Only assuming it was the one from the photo albums, you followed the cat as best you could

“El-Elizabeth?” you called to the cat while it was sitting at the end of the hallway

Even though in your time this cat had died around four years ago, you still cared about it from the slightly-blurry pictures your father had showed you

At the mention of its name, the cat perked up and walked to you and you were allowed to scoop it up in your arms

Walking back through the hallways trying to find the door marked ‘Jumin Han’, you were stopped by two people in all-black suits

The first one spoke in a downright disgusting tone, “Now why is a hot piece of ass like yourself in this hallway? Did Mr. Heir dump you out here?” “No, piss off”

The second spoke with a much more business-like tone after glaring at the other

“Why are you smuggling the cat of the heir of this company?” “I’m MC Han, and just returning her”

The man didn’t want to take any chances at the name Han, so he escorted you to an office and stood outside the door while you knocked

A person called through the office, “Who is it? Did you find Elizabeth the III?” “I have your cat, Mr. Han”

At the mention of cat, the door flew open with your father holding it open

“Please come in, as you were the one to find my life mate” “Your what now?” “My Elizabeth the III” “Right”

You crouched down to let the cat out of your arms and stood back up before stepping in cautiously

“I’m indebted to you for finding her” “Not really. She was just in the hallway” “Yes, but nobody else found her. Could I ask your name?” “It’s MC Han” “I’m sorry; are you a relative?” “Not yet- I mean, not quite” “Are you a person of my father’s?” “No” “Very well, how may I repay you for bringing her back?” “You really don’t ne-“ “Yes, I do. Please answer my question” “Well, there was a guard that was harassing me earlier”

His head snapped up to you since he was sitting down to pet Elizabeth “Which?” “The one with the blond hair outside the door”

Calling once again to the outside of the door, Jumin spoke coldly, “Smith, get your ass in my office”

Seeing your father swear wanted to make you laugh, but you maintained a straight face

The guard from earlier stepped in looking around the room anxiously “Is everything alright, Mr. Han?” “Not for you. What did you tell MC earlier in the hallway?” “I asked why someone as good-looking as themselves were standing alone and if you had kicked them out” “You do realize how inappropriate that is, yes?” “Yes, Sir” “Good”

He stood up from his cat and adjusted his coat sleeve before standing right in front of the man and slapped him across the face

“You’ve thirty minutes to gather anything you have before you’re fired. Have a day”

This time, you actually laughed after the man had quickly left the room

“ ‘Have a day’ really, Da-Mr., Han?” “Well, I didn’t want him to have a nice day”

You started laughing again while he looked slightly confused“Thank you, Mr. Han” “Thank you for bringing my Elizabeth and informing me of a corrupt employee” “I’m not sure if they were corru-“ “They harassed you. That’s enough” “Well, have a good day, Mr. Han”

He gave you a simply goodbye before you left and went back to your time

When you sat down for dinner, you tried to stifle your laughter at the memory of your father bitch slapping a security guard when he sat down across from you

“Is everything alright?” “Yes, just please let me know if you ever slap someone” “Sure thing?”

Look at me actually doing two requests in one day (even though they’re like a week late I’m sorry) I hope you enjoyed these, though. I hope you all have days!

[ozzygonza]

EXCHANGE

Chapter 1.1

Despite dad basically being a complete shut-in and only wanting to stay home all day working on his next novel, he actually wanted to drive me to school; most likely to avoid emails from his agent regarding the next installment of his Blackened Rooks series. He even woke up earlier than pop, which kind of surprised me. The drive to school seemed like any other drive to school: quiet and only should last for fifteen minutes-ish. I kept my attention outside my car side window, We stopped at a light on the main street behind a white sedan and then I could hear my dad’s thoughts clamoring all at once to a halt as well.

“How are you feeling…?” he asked aloud, which already sounded like the wrong question that beat the other ones in his overactive head. He cleared his throat and exhaled. “It’s going to be a new year of high school. Obviously this past summer was not the best, what with that mess happening, but this will be a new year for you to start again with the knowledge from the year before.”

What he lacked in being social, he excelled in being eloquent and very well-spoken. He would have been valedictorian in high school if it hadn’t been for Clara Vaughn basically beating him and writing a just as good speech; he was never bitter about it since the two remained best friends even after high school.

I frowned, recalling for a moment what happened last summer. Only one photo remained saved in a folder of my current phone of me and her being happy. A small wave of sadness returned from the incident of the end of the school year. I didn’t want to remember.

“Thanks Dad, I’ll keep that in mind,” I told him, noticing him smiling a little and a hint of fatherly pride. “Now, I’m gonna go, so that I can get some education.”

“Huh? Y-yes, s-sure sure,” he stammered, not realizing he had already pulled in the student drop-off.

I gave him a shadow of a smile and headed into the campus. I stepped into the high school building, already catching sight of friends hugging each other and a couple or two saying hello for the first time after a long summer. After I grabbed my school schedule from the line in the cafeteria, I sat down near the entrance to give my legs a rest and to read the list of classes, with the first being English Literature with Mr. Perez. The rest of the school day seemed pretty steady ending with Geometry class with Ms. Fields.

“There he is.”

I looked up to see Keisha, my best friend. We’ve known each other since we were twelve, having met during a joint musical recital; she used to play the violin and I had played in a piano duet with my friend Nico. We had shared a moment of pumping the other up backstage. We remained inseparable since that day. She opened her arms out and gave me a “C’meeeere” look. I returned with a smirk and gave her a big hug, returning her embrace, despite feeling extremely despondent.

“You have been in radio silence this whole summer,” she muttered in my ear, squeezing me tighter. “You could have texted me at least once while I was at my nana’s.”

“You have my dads’ numbers, so I knew you checked with them,” I responded as we pulled away from each other. “As you can see, I’m okay. Kickin’, sorta.”

“Well, your epic of Summer of Mope is over, and it’s now time to enjoy a new year of fun, excitement, and emotional instability that comes with being in high school.” She pushed me to the stairs and held up her schedule, most likely getting the schedule ahead of time from her mother, who worked in the school. “Let’s go upstairs to Mr. Perez’s room and have our first boring class together.”

I gave her a little smile and went up the stairs. We talked about our summer, rather she talked and I listened to her. Her time with her nana had been an uneventful one. Most of it spent doing with her brother and nana doing minor chores and going to the beach every other day. She tried to make it sound terrible but I knew better than that. It sounded way better than mine, which was spent in my room with the curtains drawn, listening to some depressing and melancholy music during the time of only showering when I smelled a little rank for my liking.

I didn’t want to give her insight of that, even though she had a hint of that earlier from my parents. When we reached the classroom, a few familiar faces regarded us for a moment, one of them Colton, a guy who just hated me for the sake of it. We took our seats at the back of the classroom to see who else joined our class this first period.

When we started our talk about a TV show we showed an interest in, Mr. Perez stepped in classroom, greeting everyone in an enthusiastic Good Morning. He gave everyone a heart-warming smile and placed his materials on top of the desk. He scanned the room for a moment with his gray eyes and raised a brow.

“I know you guys would rather have stayed home today, rather than be here today, but I will try to make this as painless as possible,” he said and wrote his name “MR PEREZ” on the board. “I am Mr. Perez your English Lit teacher. I hope you guys read the pieces from the collection of Edgar Allan Poe’s work and the select works from Walt Whitman.”

A few collection of groans arose from a select students, except for myself and Keisha; I had first editions of the books from both works what with my dad having a small library of these already in his collection.

“However, today, we’re going to meet each other and get to know your peers. I am Mr. Ricardo Perez, and my parents are from a small town just north of Mexico City. They, including my brother Carlos, immigrated here.” He took a brief pause when he heard the back door of the room open.

A young man with bluish hair and horn-rimmed glasses walked in the room. Just as we all did, he also scanned the room. For a moment, our eyes met. A chill ran down my spine and the hairs on my arms stood on end. The feeling was eerie and didn’t know what to make of it. He broke our gaze first and walked to the front of the classroom, handing the teacher a piece of paper.

He scanned through the paper and muttered something to himself. “Okay, class! This is a transfer student from our exchange program,” he responded and motioned to the young man. “I believe you will be the first one to introduce themself to the class.”

The boy grinned. “Alright, my name is Trent St. John, please to meet you all,” he said, a faint accent heard in certain syllables, projecting his voice to the back of the room. His gaze fell upon me, our eyes meeting again. “I cannot wait to be acquainted with you all.”

“You can take a seat, looks like we have one in the back next to the young man in the green t-shirt,” Mr. Perez stated, clearly indicating me.

“We should be nosy and say hello,” Keisha whispered in my ear. As soon as Mr. Perez turned his back to the class to write on the board, Keisha gave me a little wink and I couldn’t help but grin as she quickly went to Trent’s desk. She took a seat right next to Trent and nudged him with her elbow in his ribs. “I’m Keisha and that’s Abram, “she motioned to me with a slight nod. “You are definitely new around here and I think you should hang with us.”

Keisha didn’t know the definition of subtle or even hearing no as an answer to one of her demands. She propped her chin on the heel of her palm and smiled. “Everyone else isn’t as cool as us.”

Now you are being crazy, I thought to myself.

Trent nodded regardless. “I actually wouldn’t mind hanging with you guys,” he said to her. He turned his head to me. “What about you? Do you think we will get on? Or am I awkward?”

His words sounded strange but I couldn’t place them anywhere. I returned a smile. “Awkward or not, it shouldn’t matter.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Trent stared ahead and smiled.

Mr. Perez had spent the rest of the hour having us introduce ourselves. It was dumb and elementary school-ish. We practically spent most of our time on our phones; Pop had sent me a reminder to do chest workouts, either at home or the gym, via text. He should have been working in whatever warehouse or secret mission.

Once hour had ended, Mr. Perez reminded everyone to review the select poems by Poe for tomorrow’s lesson, but clearly his direction had fallen on deaf ears. Keisha snatched Trent’s schedule from his hands and scanned the page. She counted two with her fingers and then four.

“So we have second period photography as well,” she stated and looked at me, “but you guys have Geometry, American History, and free period.”

Trent raised a brow. “Sounds like we’re going to be seeing more of each other,” he stated and chuckled.

Keisha hooked her arm around his elbow and started tugging him towards their next class.

(Previous, Next)

[thevisuallogbookoflauramart-blog]

Portrait Shoot #2

My first portrait shoot was taken completely using black and white Polaroid film and it didn’t go too well. The film is so unpredictable and hard to control and most of the images were overexposed, I presume because I didn’t get them back into the box and away from the light fast enough! James encouraged me to shoot on everything, film, digital and Polaroid, and then compare the results to see what works best with my subject matter and I was open to this idea. I scouted out an abandoned location which I had visited previously: St. Andrews Asylum, Thorpe St. Andrew, Norwich. After driving around for a couple of hours looking for the place again, I finally found it. Unfortunately most of the main building has been demolished and boarded up so its completely dark inside and not suitable for shooting in, but there is another small building across the field which is still standing. I believe it was used as the morgue and it consists of two small rooms. There was a good amount of natural light in here due to a large ceiling window and the place was hugely creepy which fitted well with my theme. Unfortunately though, there was a lot of graffiti on the walls and rubbish on the floors, which gave a very modern vibe and suggested vandalism, whereas I wanted it to look lonely and untouched, left to rot away without any human involvement. Never the less, I set up my tripod and began shooting, as this was mainly an experimental shoot anyway.

Polaroid

I was very pleased to see that the Polaroid film developed better this time around and seemed to work better in an interior setting, away from harsh light. I am also really liking how the black frames instantly create such a haunting shell for the images, which I doubt the standard white would have.

Throughout the whole shoot, I struggled with poses and positions. I was very aware now that I was too over the top and cliche in the last shoot, as James pointed out and he told me not to try so hard and to make things much more subtle. I experimented with starring straight at the camera and also looking down and past the camera, mostly holding myself in a vulnerable stance. I feel that these positions worked quite well and I like the negative space I created using the peeling walls. Unfortunately though, the Polaroids didn’t really pick up the rough texture of the walls like I was hoping, due to the flash.

I also wasn’t thinking too much at the time about how what I was wearing would affect the picture. I opted for simple black clothing, and I think this works for close up shots that are above the waist, but my jeans looked far too modern in the full body shots. I also like to have a certain extent of femininity in my pictures, which helps to create that vulnerable and uneasy atmosphere which I need in order to help the audience understand my subject matter. The jeans made me look too tomboy-ish and I believe I will need to wear skirts and dresses in future shoots.

35mm Film

I had used up nearly a whole film from shooting landscapes a couple of days before this, so I only had a few shots left. I was mainly experimenting with poses here and the lighting was really nice in this particular spot. I think that the background is too busy though and it takes away from the subject, which is me. There are too many shapes and textures going on and the graffiti makes the images appear trashy and modern. However, I do love the extremely high contrast that the black and white film created and I think it has a powerful and menacing effect on the photographs. 

This is one of the images I edited the graffiti out of and I think it looks 100% better. I’m not the best at editing, but I was taught how to use the clone tool and the healing brush tool in Photoshop in college, to rid images of such things like this. On the right hand side of the photo you can see how the bricks on the wall don’t line up perfectly and the shadowing doesn’t blend completely, but I hope this isn’t too noticeable and I think I did a pretty good job. Even with the graffiti gone though, I still don’t like the setting too much and I’m not happy with what I’m wearing. Abandoned locations are very hit and miss, so I will just have to keep looking for one that compliments the meaning behind the images.

Digital

Next I moved onto digital, which I hadn’t shot for a long time and I used my Canon EOS 600D. I’ve only made very minor edits to the images below, focusing on the contrast, exposure and colour balance. I changed some to black and white and I also added an overlay which mimics the imperfections of film, showing subtle noise and scratches. Like I thought, the digital photos looked very dull and flat, nothing like the beautiful, authentic analogue images produced using chemicals in the darkroom. Obviously one advantage to it though, is being able to see them immediately and to make the necessary changes in camera settings, the crop and the pose of the subject. I was also surprised to see that I actually liked the muted colour tones and that maybe I was restricting myself too much by shooting only black and white, so I may experiment with colour 35mm and Polaroid film. However, I am very happy with my black and white landscapes and I do not feel that they would work as well in colour. 

I even experimented with a slow shutter speed here when turning my head, but looking at results, I feel that this is very cliche and amateur and it makes me cringe a little...

These next images were shot later that day, in a field outside my house. I wore a skirt so that I could achieve a more feminine and vulnerable look and now I feel that the images are perhaps a little too whimsical and cute. I need to find the right balance between gritty and feminine. I also feel that the field doesn’t work too well as a backdrop and interferes with my landscape images. I’d like to keep the portraits and landscapes separate for the time being. I will continue to search for abandoned locations, as I feel the portraits will flourish in that sort of environment. However I will have to make sure they are not too vandalised with graffiti like St. Andrews was.

I’ve never been the best at editing my images, and because I usually shoot on film, which comes with its own natural high contrast and pleasing imperfections, I rarely feel that editing is necessary. However, digital images tend to look flat and boring without some changes in Photoshop, so I made a few adjustments which you can see below. I upped the contrast slightly and played around with the colour balance, as I thought the original picture looked too warm and inviting. By adding blue tones and taking away the natural orange-ish lighting, the photo makes the viewer more apprehensive and on edge. I also changed the crop slightly so that I wasn’t in the centre of the frame, as this seems too planned and perfect and by having the subject off centre creates more of an ominous vibe. The last thing I did was add an image overtop which contained film grain and subtle scratches, then I used the ‘lighten’ overlay option and adjusted the opacity, so that it would mimic an analogue image, which I feel worked really well. Though I am happy with how I edited the image, I find using Photoshop a long and boring process which is full of trial and error, depending on how you’d like the final outcome of the photo to look. I much prefer not to edit if I can help it, and I think this is another reason why I favour film so much.

Original

Edited

I like both the colour and black and white edits, but I just don’t like how clean the pictures look overall and I like to have that very slight blur which film provides. It also feels very silly to me to be shooting digitally and then editing the images to look as much like film as possible, when I could just be simply shooting film in the first place.

Overall, this shoot has been key to the development of my work for BA3b and I feel I am closer to achieving what I set out to do. By using three different photographic methods (Digital, 35mm film & Polaroid), I feel I have evidenced my understanding of the technical equipment involved and also considered different ways of working. I then discussed which method is the most relevant to the context of my work. 

[internetblogs13-blog]

16 On Site Blogs Verses Blogger For Search Engine Optimization

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