#scan from analog print

[ultralowoxygen]

La foto che credeva di essere in bianco e nero. by Michele Nicoletti Via Flickr: Avere corpi analogici senza finestrella per inserire il cartoncino del rullo può portare a certe conseguenze, quando si dimentica la macchina carica per un po' di tempo :-) ... Ero convinto fosse caricata a fomapan 400, vedendo impostati gli iso a 200 con rimanenza una decina di scatti (perchè la fomapan 400 la espongo sempre a 200 iso). Invece al termine del rullo...sorpresa...:-) Analogica eseguita con Canon EF, obiettivo Canon FD 50mm f1.8, pellicola kodak Gold. Scansione con reflex digitale canon eos 60D, sviluppo del raw e inversione con negative lab pro.

[juniperdugong]

Be my first? - Wonwoo

WC: 824 || Genre: Fluff || CW: Some swears, despite the title, there is only a smidgen of suggestiveness || Wonwoo x fem!reader (established relationship)

A/N: This is a quick little thang that could be (very much insinuated to be) a pt.2 to this lovely fic that's gotten so much love

"How do you like it, baby?"

Wonwoo wrapped his arms around your waist pulling you onto his lap. Resting his chin on your shoulder as he watched you in amusement.

"How do I like it? I don't just like it, I fucking love it, Nonu!" You quickly turned around to meet him face to face. The goofy smile adorning your lips makes him sit tall and proud knowing that he's the one who's made you like this.

You pepper his face in light kisses as you fumble with the box. You've long discarded the gift bag at this point and Wonwoo sighs knowing that he's gonna have to pick it up later because you'll inevitably forget to clean your mess. He just enjoys being showered in your physical praise for the moment, pushing all other thoughts to the side.

Finally, you get it open. Your face gleaming with joy as you hold your new treasure. Excitedly you dart between your present and Wonwoo's face, like a puppy asking for permission from its owner to run around the park full speed. He nodded gently and you were off to the races!

The Instax mini evo instant film - a beauty of a modern film camera that you've eyed since its release.

To be honest you weren't as into film and photography as Wonwoo but you always admired the look of some of the older analog film cameras he had. You expressed a slight desire to get into the hobby but only if you could do it digitally... the only thing stopping you? You absolutely hated the way modern cameras looked. Of course, the aesthetic shouldn't matter when it comes to equipment but it mattered to you just enough to not commit to photography, although you'd never admit it.

But with the Instax mini, you could basically say FujiFilm read your mind and came out with the perfect product for you to fulfill your oh-so-selfish desire of looking like someone who knows their way around a camera. All of this of course to impress your handsome nerd of a boyfriend, Jeon Wonwoo.

"Be my first?" He looked at you quizzically before scanning his own body with his eyes, "Baby, we've already-"

"No, you ass. I meant let's take the first picture together..." You hit him on the chest lightly before skimming over the manual for a gist of how everything worked. He gave a small chuckle and a light peck to your cheek, relaxing into your shoulder once again. "Sure, pretty girl. I'd love to be the first."

Once you're sure you've got down the basics you raise the camera above your heads, making sure your angle is perfect. "You better smile very prettily for this, Jeon Wonwoo." you say through gritted teeth as you hold "the perfect poised smile".

"Of course, I won't dissapoint, angel." He tucks your hair behind your ears on the side that he's resting against, puts on his best smile, and reaches up to meet the hand you're using to hold up the camera.

"What are you do-" Before you can get your question out Wonwoo uses his other hand to push your head towards him, catching you in a kiss. His timing is perfect because just as you're about to push him away he snaps the photo.

Immediately he takes the camera from your hands and prints the picture. You stare at him in complete shock at his audacity. "Wonwoo~" You whine as he holds an iron grip on the device you're so desperately trying to get back from him.

"Just a second... and... Got it!" He all but tosses the camera onto your lap as he hastily grabs at the photo once it's printed. The content laugh that comes out of him as he sees the result has you fuming.

"Let me see!" You snatch it from him and cringe at what you see next.

Wonwoo with his perfectly sculpted face, eyes closed gently, leaning in ever so gracefully and meeting you. You who had your eyes wide open in shock and lips pursed out of habit, but they more so resemble duck lips than anything else.

"You should put that in your phone case, baby." With a look of complete and utter dissatisfaction and disgust, you look at your boyfriend, who is thoroughly enjoying your reaction with the biggest smile on his face. You punch his chest, he pretends to be hurt for a second before returning to his state of euphoria.

"Yeah? Since you seem like it so much maybe you should put it in your phonecase." You hold the picture up to his face, a chuckle coming from him as he beholds his masterpiece once more.

"I'm good, I've already got the perfect photo in mine." He flips his phone over and thumbs at the cutout frame of a photo strip, your first kiss. "Plus, it's your first picture with your new camera, cherish it, baby."

A/N: Not proofread!! A little something something because I was in the writing mood~ A question to any fanfic authors who read this, what's your word count per day? Me personally, whether it's a part of a longer fic or not, I average about 1000. This fic was actually written with like an hour and a half. Anyways lovelies, let me know what you think!!!

Please Reblog and Comment (They act as power-ups for me)

Taglist (OPEN): @bemybabiibish @bath1lda @porridgesblog

[fadingdaggerr]

creatus sanguine (18+, mdni)

pairing: agatha harkness x gn!witch!reader

summary: part two of effuso sanguine | 5.3k

includes: blood magick reader, (not even) borderline obsession tbh

warnings: blood, description of injury, smut, afab reader (no chest description), oral (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), thigh riding (a receiving)

note: blood magick differs from the show’s definition of a “blood witch.” rather than coming from a magical family line, blood mages are more aligned with the physical body and use of what billy would call “analog magick” (sacrifice, blood letting, etc), as well as incantation/spells

April 1749

Your back aches as you rise from your leaf-made mattress, thin blankets falling off like the thin rags they’d become. Heading pounding, you move to pour the last of your water into the small pot over the fire. It had been nearly three weeks since you’d been able to stop to get more food. You’d managed to forage wild flowers for more tea and tree sap to chew on, but the traps you’d set hadn’t proved fruitful.

As the tea steeps, you roll your blankets and shove them into your bag. Transferring the drink to your cup, you throw the pot into the bag as well. Smothering the fire under your boots, you head southeast.

Morning gusts caress your skin as you pass through the forest. The birds chirped through the trees, flying from branch to branch above your head. Rolling up your sleeves, you embrace the warm air. Raised and faded scars litter your skin, some healed cleaner from your growing experience. You made sure none would be as jarring as the one painted across your ribs. It’s taken years for you to be unbothered by their appearance, though the same cannot be said by those you meet.

Removing your attention from your skin, you look to the ground instead. Scanning the grass and leaves, you see impressions of foot prints. Recent enough that the ground still held their mark. Someone has to be close.

Slowing your pace, you try to focus on the sounds around you. Closing your eyes, you hear the birds, squirrels, your own breathing, and the faintest sound of multiple heartbeats. The sound grows, clearer by the moment. Five heartbeats, resting rates sounding human. They are so close, you immediately speed up your pace.

Within minutes, you hear the faint sound of feminine voices. A sigh of relief passes your lips, feeling immediate safety. The crunch of your steps makes all five turn and face you, defensive in stance and expression.

“Good day,” you speak up.

The oldest of the group steps forward, and you match her step. Her hand rises, stopping you from getting closer. Amber eyes scan over you, “only we may enter this space.”

“I meant no offense,” you take a step back, “I only hoped you may know the way to the closest settlement.” Your eyes shift from the woman to the meat on the cutting board behind her. Seeing your stare, the one with an orange skirt moves to stand in front of it.

“And you found us how?” The amber-eyed woman refuses to lose your attention, keeping you from the group. At your silence she speaks again, stressing each word, “how did you find us?”

“I was heading this way before I saw you. I promise I would not harm you, nor your sisters,” you affirm, trying to maintain a calm demeanor. Her brow furrows in disbelief, and you know you cannot pretend with her. You know what she is, she knows what you are. “I am alone, covenless, and entirely out of food. All I require are directions, then I will leave you and yours alone.”

She nods with a hum, eyes moving to partially look behind her. The woman with a soft pink overcoat reaches out, hand grasping your wrist lightly, and tugging you into the protection circle. Forcing you to sit, you watch as they carry on how they were before you arrived. A small plate of turkey and apple slices is placed in your lap.

“This is all we have to spare,” the pink witch says. “I’m Marjorie.”

You give her a soft smile in thanks and your name in return. Listening to their idle conversation, you eat slowly to avoid stomach pains. The ease of their conversation, the way they lean on each other, it’s simply lovely. They speak so surely about their lives and their abilities, even as young as most of them are. With them distracted by one another, you finally take in the space around you.

The protection circle, as even as it was, did little in stopping you. Your fingers twitch with the knowledge that it would never have worked. Despite their efforts, you heard them without their voices. Only the leader knew this, that much was apparent by her apprehension, never trusting the glow of the stones.

You feel the hairs on your neck stand up, eyes going to the source. Eudora, you now know, stares you down with a ferocity. You glance to the stones, then back to her. She nods slowly, warning held within. Nodding back, you eat the last apple slice, standing quickly.

“I thank you kindly for this meal and your generosity,” you never take your eyes off the head witch. “I wish you safety, and may our paths cross again.”

“Perhaps they shouldn’t,” Eudora says strictly. From beside her, Marjorie goes to protest but is silenced by a raised hand, “misery follows one who searches.”

Your brow furrows, confusion and anger twirling on your tongue. Keeping quiet, you back out past their barrier. Nodding one again, thankful to the other members of the coven, you turn away. The hard, angry heartbeat fades as you walk away. Their fates with their leader are nothing, desperation for a coven gave them false security. Misery follows, you think to yourself, amused.

Their green witch, Abigail, had told you of the Plymouth settlement, the best option if you found yourself needing to nab something to eat. If any of them survive that imbecile, you hope it’s her and Marjorie. Following the path given, you hope to get there before sunset.

—⛤—

The sun becomes golden as you finally break the trees to a road. Tracks lead south, and now you do too. Promise of a real bed was so close, perhaps if you had enough, even a drink. Food feels futile now, rest is the real virtue. The entire trek back from the settlements in Rhode Island had been on beds of moss, tree bark, and leaves. A thin pad and blanket without tears will likely make you cry with joy.

Closing in, you finally see the town. Houses, market stalls, and various other buildings cover the area. You rush on sore feet towards what you pray is an inn, the largest structure in the center. 

Almost falling in the door, you’re greeted by an elderly woman at the counter.

“Hello, sweetheart. I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before,” she chirps.

You smile, “I’m just here for a few days, hopefully. Is there a chance you’ve got a vacancy?”

“Do you have a way to pay?” She retorts with a cocked brow. You smile at her, digging into the bottom of your satchel. A secret pocket holds coins you’d found in a tavern weeks ago. Offering up most, you look at her with pleading eyes. The woman counts visually, peeking back at you, then counting again. She clears her throat, “this here, this is barely a night. But, I know downtrodden when I see it, so I’ll give you three. But no food, that’s on you. I don’t care how you do it, but no guests here.”

You blink at her incredulously at the insinuation, but thank her anyways. The last room at the end of the hall, tiny with a small bed. A bed. Tears spring to your eyes as you drop onto it, the padded plank feeling like a cloud. Hunger creeps in, but is wholly ignored as you fall into a deep slumber.

When your eyes open, the room is still dark. Sore muscles ache less than the day before as you rise from the bed. Grabbing your things, you step into the hall and go into town. The sunlight nearly blinds your sensitive eyes, glare becoming tolerable as you navigate the space. If careful, you could stretch your money to last these few days. If you are even more careful, you could find something without pinching pennies.

Slumping against a tree, you slice an apple from your bag. Of the many they had, you surely took the only good ones. If the kids hadn’t run back home, you would’ve given them some as a thanks for their distracting of the vendor.

Walking back into the center of town, you hear different speakers going on long rants. Preachers about sin, mothers about sin, a hog farmer about sin, it’s all quite repetitive. Everything sounds like one long drone, it always has. Nearly sixty years and all they had taken out was the focus on witches. Being closer to home than you have been in years felt sickening.

The speeches of hellish sins to be avoided becomes nothing but a monotonous hum behind the rest of the world. The air through the trees, the carts moving over dirt roads, the animals chittering in the pens, it all falls away. Behind it all, a beating. Strong, steady, and there. Your heart starts to beat in time with it, eyes beginning to scan the streets.

Walking quickly, you try to follow the sound. The closer you get, the clearer it becomes. The more familiar it becomes. Moving as fast as you can without drawing attention to yourself, all you can hear is the rhythmic beating. Passing a tavern, you immediately reverse yourself, looking in the open door.

At the counter, a deep purple cloak around her shoulders, sits a woman. Finger resting on her chin, she waits for whatever she ordered. She scans the room, and you feel your face drop, all warmth draining from you.

Angelite eyes land on you, squinting as she feels your stare, but her confident demeanor drops. Scrambling from her seat, she runs from the tavern and crashes into your stiff body. Wordlessly, you stand with your arms at your side, stuck in shock. Leaning back, she looks at you confused.

Prying yourself from her, you grab her arm and drag her towards the inn. Rounding the outside, you find the windows to your room, pushing open the shutters. Climbing over the ledge, you motion for her to follow.

Straightening in front of you, she smiles. It drops at your words, “you are alive.”

“So are you,” she scans you quickly, “and as you were. How?”

“I imagine similarly to your reason,” you answer. “I have spent a near lifetime looking for you. Do not tell me you’ve been here this whole time?”

“Of course not, I only arrived this morning,” she says. Careful hands grab yours, “had I known you were still out here, I would have looked for you.”

You grip her hands tightly, “I was where I told you I would be. Home.”

“Yet you knew I was gone?” She asks, almost knowing.

You pause. It is not the time. “You never showed, it was worrisome. But you were gone, and there they were. I knew what they had done,” you tell her. “I had to find you.”

“And so you did,” she smiles, leaning into you. Her forehead comes to rest on yours, eyes closing. She whispers into the small space between you, “I should never have ran. I should’ve come home to you, my love.”

“Agatha…” you sigh, nose rubbing against hers, “my heart.”

Lips brush against yours softly, testing if she’s still allowed. Pushing into her harder, you press a bruising kiss to her lips. Warm hands side to grasp her face, keeping her as close as possible. Greedily, you run your tongue over her bottom lip, and she quickly lets you in. The moment she does, her hands tighten around your waist, shoving you back into the wall.

Your nails dig into the skin of her neck, letting her take control of the kiss. Fifty-six years of searching, of not knowing, of longing, done with each pass of a masterful tongue. Moaning into you, Agatha’s teeth bare down on your lip. A groan mixed with slight pain and arousal topples into her mouth, body desperate for more of her than you’ll ever get.

Running out of breath, she moves to press wet kisses against the expanse of your throat. The thrumming of your pulse beneath her lips matches her own, each beat falling in tandem.

A shaky breath passes your lips, “Ag-Agatha we can’t, not here at least.”

“I missed you,” she attempts to reason, soundly awfully close to her excuse all those years ago. Then, she spoke for the future, that much is clear now. At this moment, she means it for the present, for the accumulation of time apart.

You gently pull her from her place in your neck, “and I you, more than I’ll ever be able to verbalize. But we are not safe here, you know this.”

“Then we leave. We will find where we may be at peace,” she says, forehead back against yours, “we will make it so, if we must.”

You press your lips against hers, a promise to go with her. All the time you spent, the first ten years, was pure ache. All of it melts away, feeling her with you once again. She feels different, stronger in a way, but time has done the same for you. You’re almost strangers like the day you’d first met in the woods.

—⛤—

December 1749

The candles on the windowsill flicker wildly as you reshelf the books in hand. Sighing, you put the stack back on the table, going to the window to see what the flames do. Out the window, you see the grass parting, a figure racing through. A torch illuminates her face, grinning wide with satisfaction.

Moving to the door, to open it to lean against the frame. Cupping your hands around your mouth, you shout, “Agatha Harkness, it is too cold for this! Hurry it up!”

Shooting through the door, she doubles over in panting breaths, shaking dustings of snow from her hair. Hands on her hips, she stands back up, mouth open to the ceiling as she recovers.

“You best not have anyone behind you,” you say, shutting the door and barring it.

She chuckles, “you know me better than that, my sweet.”

You hum, looking her over. The back of your hand brushes her cheeks, shifting to cup her neck. Shutting your eyes, you feel her heartbeat, quick from her running, but what catches your attention is another sensation.

Eyes shooting open, you rip the thick cloak from her shoulders, tugging the torn material of her dress to the side to expose her shoulder. A long cut across her skin, stretching from the point of her shoulder to just above her breast. Running your finger over the edge, you assess how bad it really is.

“Not too deep,” you murmur, “uneven. Serrated blade?”

Agatha hums, eyes having never left your face since you first touched her, “I hadn’t planned for them to come with weapons over their powers.”

“Perhaps you are too conspicuous, lover.”

She gives you a faux-shocked expression, “why I never! I am nothing if not reserved.”

You try to keep a straight face, but a smile breaks as you break away from her to get a cloth. Knowing the routine by now, she settles on a stool to await your attention. Appearing in front of her, you stand between her legs. Warm water soaks the cloth in your hand, touching it carefully to her wound.

Agatha’s hands creep up your legs, gripping here and there. Trailing up, a hand finds the strings of your shirt, tugging them loose. Your gaze shifts from her shoulder to her face, looking at her through your lashes. Shaking your head, you continue to clean the cut, ever gentle.

Wandering, her other hand slides underneath your loose shirt. Ever so gently, she grazes her fingertips across your skin, feeling every raised mark that you’d healed on your own. It always bothered her how you refused to heal them properly, poultice and bandage, but by your hand. Each mark prominent instead of completely vanished.

Blunt nails pass over your ribs, tracing the harsh, jagged mark there. She pried many times about where it had come from, but you always gave the same answer. They all just blur together.

Agatha is pulled from her mind when you press a kiss to the junction of her neck. Lingering, slow kisses spread, crawling up towards her lips. Finger under your chin, she pulls you into her kiss, short and heavy.

“Never come home hurt again. Do you hear me?” You ask, forehead pressing against hers.

She huffs, “a fluke.”

“Agatha,” you stress, hand curling in her hair, gripping. Pulling her back, you look her in the eye, “I do not make light of harm coming to you. Promise me. I will not allow you to endanger yourself, my heart.”

The hand in her hair holds tighter, forcing her to keep her eyes on you, as if they’d ever looked away. Intensity flickers like fire in your eyes, and Agatha feels frozen in place. A tingling sensation spreads from her shoulder, feeling like hands holding her down.

A heated gleam crosses her eyes, tilting towards you again, “understood, my love.”

“Good,” you whisper, lips falling to hers with intensity. The weight on her shoulders fell, dissipating into a warmth wrapping around her. Free to move again, Agatha stands, tugging you back with her to the bed. Following her, you allow her to take control, sated in your wish to be heard.

Hurried hands work to undress you, lips coming back to yours in bursts as layers fall. Shoving you down on the bed, Agatha tries to straddle your hips, but is stopped by your sitting up. Grabbing her hips, you tug her between your legs, unlacing the front of her dress. Fingers skim over each inch of freshly exposed skin, no matter the rush they are in to take everything off. Before her garments even hit the floor, you’re pulling her on top of you.

Energy twinged every one of her nerves, power absorbed mixing with the molten adoration radiating from you. Your hands drift over her back, attempting to feel every inch of you. Lips drag from your mouth down your chin, nipping as Agatha takes purchase at your neck. Wet, open-mouthed kisses turn to suckling of your skin, teeth grazing over every mark.

Hearing your breaths deepen, she continues down your body. Strong hands take hold of your legs, settling between them. Her pupils dilate at the sight, you glistening before her. A hand buries itself in her hair, scratching her scalp gently. Pressing a kiss to your thigh, Agatha looks up at you through her lashes.

“You don’t know how I adore you,” she says quietly. There’s no second to respond before her mouth descends on you, flat tongue licking up your folds. Small gasps encourage her, stroking more strongly, taking in your taste. Her skillful tongue slides in your entrance, moaning into you as her fingers dig into your thighs. Your free hand goes to your clit, but she smacks you away.

Her tongue slips from you, wrapping her mouth around your bundle of nerves. Moans fall from your mouth, the hand in her hair tugs, the other claws into the blankets. Bucking into her mouth, you try to ride her face, but she anchors you down. Her tongue alternates between suckling and making hard circles against your clit. You can feel yourself getting closer and closer, wetter and wetter.

Unclasping a hand from your thigh, it comes to take the place of her tongue on your pearl, harsh, tight circles making you squirm. Her mouth drags down to your slit, tongue making figure-eights through your folds, burying back inside you. With the slightest freedom of only one hand holding you down, you grind against her tongue, desperate for as much of her as possible.

“A… Agatha,” you moan out, gripping tighter in her curls, “please.”

The pressure against your clit grows, tight circles wind the coil in your core more and more. Her tongue greedily takes you in, suckling and stroking, unrelenting in pace. Your hips rut against her, feeling her deeper, feeling her moan. Her own thighs press together, wetness decorating her thighs as she brings you closer to the edge.

Releasing the blanket, your hand grasps her shoulder, keeping her against you. The forceful grip burns, reopening her wound, but it does nothing to deter Agatha. If anything, it makes her work harder, devouring you with a new sense of purpose. More and more, the tightness in your core builds, a single thread still tethering you.

“C’mon, my sweet,” she murmurs, smiling against you, “give me a taste.”

Her words are your undoing, your back arches, warmth spreading through your body as Agatha eagerly licks up your essence. The grip on her hair and shoulder loosen, still holding on to ground yourself. Relaxing back down, you whimper as her tongue still dances against you.

“Lover,” you breathe out, “come here.” Climbing up your body, Agatha’s lips press against your skin. Bringing your hand to her neck, you pull her into your kiss. Wandering, you feel something against your hand, warm, wet. Pulling back from her lips, you see red painting your palm.

“Fuck,” you whisper to yourself. You look to blue eyes, barely visible from dilated pupils, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorr-”

“Don’t be,” she says, pressing her lips against yours shortly. Then again. And again, longer, more sound. Her thighs straddle you, hands pressing down on your chest, holding you in place. You can’t help yourself, clinging to her, hand grasping her face. Blood smears across her skin, soaking into yours, hearts beating in time with one another.

Agatha’s hips grind against you, desperate for friction that she can’t find. Shifting slightly, you press your thigh into her, feeling her arousal coating your skin. Whining into your mouth, she grinds more steadily. Your hands slide down to guide her, pushing her harder against the muscle of your thigh. Moans fall from her mouth, kisses growing sloppy and desperate.

You press her harder against you, wanting to feel her, needing to see her fall apart. Husky moans come from her, eyes screwed shut as she grinds needily against you. One hand slides to her back, pulling her closer to lavish her chest. Your lips wrap around her nipple, tongue swirling around the pebbly peak. Every sound she makes is heaven to your ears, the beat of her heart under your touch an addictive sensation.

Her wet cunt against you makes your own arousal pool again, wanting more of her. Always so irresistible. Hauling her closer, you feel her knee press against your heat, moaning against her chest. The hands gripping your shoulders pull you from her breasts, bringing your lips to her own. Her knee moves away, making your whimper, but is replaced by her fingers, toying with your entrance.

One finger, then two, pump into you, matching the tempo of her riding your thigh. A pitchy whine falls from your lips, walls gripping her fingers, the hand on her waist digging in. Teeth bare against your lip as Agatha feels the shockwaves rolling through her, a metallic taste coating her tongue. Pulling back, droplets of blood appear on your bottom lip. The grinding of her hips slows, thumb brushing over, eyes utterly entranced.

You tug her back to your mouth, hand on her waist guiding her faster, chest rattling with both your moans. The fingers inside you curl, thumb pressing to your clit. The pleasure becomes too much, stealing the air from your lungs with every pump of Agatha’s long fingers. Pulling from her lips, you tuck your face into her neck, licking and biting at the expanse of skin.

Agatha’s head lulls back, songs of pleasure falling into open air. Every sound from her, every motion of her fingers, her arousal on your skin– the tight cord snaps. A strangled groan passes your lips as you cum, fingers inside you slowly, but not leaving. Your head rises from her neck, taking in view above you.

Chest heaving, hair stuck to her forehead, brows knitted together in pleasure, Agatha Harkness is a sight to behold. The slice on her shoulder catches your eye, red and aggravated, drops of ichor gliding down pale skin. Leaning forward, you let your tongue drag up, collecting red, until you meet her tender wound. Lapping over it, you feel Agatha grind harder, husky moans turning whiny.

All you can think of is adoring her. Every inch of you, body, mind, and soul, exists for her. She is your life, your purpose. A tingle spreads down from her shoulder to her core, feeling her skin prickle. The sensation isn’t entirely new, but it has never felt like this before. All-consuming, electric, and hot, but underneath it all, it seems to pulse.

The movement of her hips begins to grow sloppy, almost entirely your own effort than hers now. Her breath stutters as your tongue swipes over raw skin, soft lips passing over tenderly. Unadulterated affection mixes with the pleasure that you can’t help but give her, and she crumbles against you. Lazy motions of her hips continue as she comes down, face buried in your neck.

Panting, she pulls back, retracting her fingers from you. Hand splaying over your thigh, she finally looks at you. Your appearances are one in the same. Sweaty, breathless, and littered in marks and your shared blood. A smile stretches across her face, settling in your lap.

“You are everything, my love,” she says quietly, thumb wiping a rogue red drop from your chin.

Your forehead presses to hers, “you, my heart, are the very reason I live.”

Lips press to yours, soft and loving, silent words passing through her actions. Agatha has never been one for her words, always hiding in her riddles. But here, with you, it’s impossible to pretend. You know her, her heartbeat, her mind. Her power never sparks fear in you, unlike every other in her path. They blast her, try to kill her, to deceive her– but not you. Nothing but devotion has ever come from you. Pure and strong, like there was so much love for her inside of you, that it was always moments away from bubbling over.

Laying down, you bring Agatha with you, letting her curl around you. Tracing up and down your ribs, her nails glide over your scars. Circling the prominent one between your ribs, she props her chin on your chest.

Peering down at her, you brush her hair off to one side. Once angry, red, and bloody, the cut down her shoulder was now a fading scar, as if it had been there for years. A small smile crosses your face, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. Blue eyes watch your expression, almost reading your mind.

“One scar will not kill me,” she says, a coy grin playing on her lips, “hasn’t killed you.”

Your brows jump, averting your gaze shortly, “I will heal regardless of what I do, I am simply impatient.” Your hand cups her cheek, “any injury to you is an insult. The memory of it is mockery.”

“Dramatic,” she chuckles, pressing a kiss to your chest before laying her head down.

Your arms wrap around her, keeping her snug to your body, “you do not understand how I love you. I would dismantle every natural law in order to keep you safe, to give you everything.”

There’s a sureness in your tone, something that tells Agatha you meant this. That you will do this, have done this. Her nose bumps against your jaw, “more with you is all I require, my love.”

—⛤—

January 1750

A cool breeze passes over the river, making a chill creep up your spine. Wiping off red hands in the snow, you stand from the riverside. For the first time in a week, your traps worked. Fortunate for you, however unfortunate for the deer that crossed your path.

Home is so close, you can feel it, but the weight on your shoulders makes time slow.  You can see the candles in the window, calling you home to her. The stiffness of your joints means nothing as you finally reach the packed down path. Releasing the ropes of the sled, you abandon your game in preference of the fire inside.

Head resting in her hands, Agatha sits with a blanket wrapped around her. Her head falls back at the sound of the door opening, eyes watching you. Toeing off your boots and shrugging your coat, you make your way behind the chair. Leaning over her, you take in her appearance.

Dark circles under her eyes worry you, sleep has been avoiding her for weeks. The weak smile on her face does nothing to soothe the worry in your chest.

Rounding the chair, you kneel before her. Your hands go to her thighs, squeezing gently, “how are you feeling?”

“Better than this morning,” she murmurs, “the tea helps.”

A little smile crosses your lips, “that’s good. I’ll make more.”

Pressing a kiss to her knee, you try to stand, but she holds you down, “not now. I just want you.”

Sitting up, you press yourself into her. Arms wrap around her hips, head settling against her stomach. Her own hands come to rest on your back, body practically folding over you. Her heartbeat is strong, breathing steady, she feels healthy. You don’t understand what is wrong, why you can’t see, why you can’t fix it. Burying yourself against her, you just breathe her in, comforted by her presence alone.

Your heart beats in time with hers, always the same. Each beat is a reminder of why you live. Relaxing against her, you close your eyes, just wanting to take her in.

As you stay there, you feel your pulse quicken. You stiffen, listening to Agatha, but hers hasn’t changed. Feeling the tension beneath her hands, she squeezes you in silent question, but is ignored.

“My lo-” she attempts to speak, but you shush her, ear pressing more intently against her abdomen. “What are you doi-” Your hand rises to cover her mouth.

Beneath the familiar beat of your lover’s heart, is a second. Quiet, rapid, but there. Your brows scrunch, listening closer. Your own heart matches the beat, almost aching with its speed. Head rising, you look at Agatha, tears welling. Blue eyes dart between yours, mouth open in disbelief at your reaction.

“My sweet, what is it?”

Blinking rapidly, you just stare at her, “two.”

“Two?” She says confused, brows furrowing, “my love, what is wrong? You are worrying me.”

A watery smile grows across your face, “you have two heartbeats.”

Agatha’s eyes rapidly blink, taking in your words. Staring into you, she silently asks you to help her understand. You move one hand to her stomach, the other going to cup her face. Closing your eyes, you focus on the little heartbeat, letting her hear it too.

A shaky smile appears on her face, lashing fluttering as she pushes back tears. Her hand covers yours on her cheek, “how?”

“If only I knew,” you breath out, “I’ve never known a spell or incantation that allows this.”

Leaning down, Agatha’s lips press to yours, slow, hungry. All the love that bubbled within you pours into her, the feeling overwhelming as you listen to two hearts. Tugging you up, she places you on her lap, knees on either side of her hips. Hands bury themselves in her hair, gently scratching her scalp.

Pulling back, you look into her eyes. All you are, all you have been, has amounted to this. Your love for one another becoming personified, beyond order and law. A second piece of your soul, born from love.

title translation: creatus sanguine, latin - the blood made

as always, feedback is soooo appreciated <3 this is very different from what i’ve written previously and would love to hear from you about continuing this. love u my babies

[artsicfox]

Made a fan animation of Spot from the Spider-verse movie

I made this animation by doing the camera and key poses in Blender, sketching the base out in CSP, printing that out and using analog materials to draw every frame and scanning those back into the computer

[sirfrogsworth]

When I got to this photo in Katrina's collection of vintage family imagery, I was pretty stumped as to how to approach it.

There is a major problem when you zoom in to 100%.

The paper it was developed on has little micro bumps. When it was scanned, the light from the scanner caused a highlight on one side of the bump and a shadow on the other. This causes a pattern which is nearly impossible to eliminate using traditional techniques.

The easiest way to fix this is actually quite clever. You scan it once, then turn it upside down and scan it again. The second pass reverses the side the highlight and shadow appear on, so you can combine the images in Photoshop and blend them together, essentially canceling out the bumps. It's weirdly analogous to noise canceling headphones.

But I don't have access to the physical copy of this image.

So... now what?

Enter Fast Fourier Transform or FFT.

This is a filter that uses extra fancy math to recognize patterns in the image and eliminate them. There is a pretty good filter for Photoshop, but it does not work easily with newer Macs with Apple Silicon. I really did not want to figure that out, and I also was too tired to go downstairs to my PC. However, I learned that a Photoshop competitor, Affinity Photo, has this filter built in. So, I downloaded a trial copy and started the process of trying to figure out how to fix this image.

It was amazingly simple. It brings up these star patterns and you just paint black circles over every one but the center. It literally felt like magic. (Full screen with sound recommended)

So once I did this process I ended up with this...

The paper still had a rough texture but it was much easier to work with using traditional techniques. I started with a black and white conversion and meticulously went through the photo zapping scratches and flaws and balancing tones and sharpening facial features. All of my photo restoration tricks were needed.

I eventually landed here...

I then thought maybe I should match the sepia tone of the original print, so I got to here...

I think the black and white looks nicer in this instance, but I always like having options and this is the most faithful representation of how the photo originally looked.

But there is something else I have been playing around with lately. Photoshop has these experimental neural filters that use cloud processing to do various tricky enhancements. Most of them are in beta and they can be very quirky. But they have a colorizer that tries to detect people and things and adds color to them. Not every black and white photo is a good candidate. I have found these professional portrait photos work decently, but the filter is very hit-and-miss. And there are tools within the filter to help you make a miss more of a hit, but often I have to accept the photo isn't going to work.

But I decided to give it a shot with this one and surprisingly, the colorizer got me most of the way there.

I can work with that.

The one thing it does well is skin. Manually painting color onto skin is tricky and requires more skill and knowledge of traditional painting techniques than I have. But if a filter can do that part for me, I can do the rest.

So after my touchups, I got the image to here.

All I have left to do is my standard color enhancements to make them a little less ghostly and a little more human.

And I present to you where I started and the finished product. I encourage you to flip back and forth.

I'm not sure how, but I was able to go from an image I thought was impossible to edit to a beautiful colorized memory for my best friend's mom. I cannot wait to show her.

[tildeathiwillwrite]

The Thief has Now Committed Arson

The Watcher and the Thief, Chapter 2 Scene 2

June of Doom Day 14: "What were you thinking?" / Surrender / Human Shield / Outmatched

Prompts List | Masterpost

Tales from Valaria Masterpost

<- Previous | Next ->

Fandom: Original Work

Words: 1800

Tag List: @juneofdoom @fourwingedsnake @whumperofworlds @pigeonwhumps @mr-orion

@scaewolf

CW: deception, thievery, being watched, monster, scratches, claw wounds, stress position, explosion, fire, book burning, arson, swearing

A/N: You read that correctly.

----------

The Draigo archives was a majestic building, second only to the Council chambers with its detailed stone pillars and intricately carved architecture composed of both wood and stone. Rift mentally calculated the cost of the construction as he entered through the massive double doors made of thick, dark wood inlaid with reliefs. 

This building alone was worth almost as much as the entire city of Valdove, by his estimation. The Draigo could certainly afford to miss one of their fancy little gemstones. Even if it was supposedly rarer than a kind-hearted magician.

Rift chuckled to himself at the analogy as he surveyed the archives. Shelves upon shelves packed near to bursting with books and tomes and scrolls sprawled before him, a nearly endless maze of knowledge. Artifacts rested on open display on wood and stone pedestals scattered throughout the archives, not even a barrier of glass between them and potential onlookers.

It was almost too easy.

Almost.

He had to find the damned gem first.

His employer had given him a detailed description of the specific gemstone he wanted stolen. Notably, it didn’t even appear to be a gemstone at all, but rather a pretty shard of opaque sea glass, yellowish orange in color. Of course, his mysterious employer had refused to clarify, so Rift was left to wonder why in the depths it was so valuable.

Rift was unlikely to find out even after he delivered the cargo, so he put the thought out of his mind and entered the archives proper, casually strolling through the standing bookcases and pretending to read the titles printed neatly on some of the spines. He subtly scanned each artifact display that he passed, seeking a gemstone that matched the description.

He was so engrossed in his search that he nearly ran into the Draigo woman before noticing her. “Oh!” he exclaimed, grabbing her arm to stabilize her as she stumbled back in shock and nearly fell into one of the nearby bookcases, “my deepest apologies, madam! I was so captivated browsing the tomes that I didn’t see you there.”

“Thank you,” she said quietly, tucking a lock of curly red hair behind her ear, “I must apologize as well. I assumed we wouldn’t have any visitors until after the meeting ended and Miss Sorro returned.”

“Of course,” Rift agreed, chuckling softly, “I would be at the meeting as well, except I have only  just arrived from a long journey.” He lowered his voice conspiratorially. “If I may be completely honest, the last thing I want after my journey is to sit in a crowded meeting hall listening to a bunch of stuffy officials talk in circles.”

The woman smiled at that. “The only reason I’m not there myself is because Miss Sorro—Skylyn, the head archivist—is attending on behalf of the archives and there always has to be an archivist here.” She shrugged. “Everyone volunteered, but she chose me.”

“If she’s the one in charge of this wonderful place, I certainly trust her judgment.” Rift gave a slight bow. “My name’s Theodoric Graves, and I am an agent from the far east stronghold.”

“From across the ocean?”

“The very same. I’d always heard wonderful things about this archive, so I decided to visit while waiting for the meeting to end. And you are…?”

“Oh!” The woman blushed. “My apologies. I’m Amari Kieran, acting head archivist. What sort of business brings you from so far away?”

Rift shook his head. “Unfortunately, that information is classified.��

“Oh… of course, that is to be expected. Apologies for prying, my curiosity got the better of me.”

He shifted from one foot to the other, nervousness curling in his stomach. How much longer was the Council meeting going to last? “Say… I’ve heard many things about the artifacts displayed here, and I’m very curious about some of them. Why don’t you show me around the archives for a little while, until the meeting ends?”

“Oh!” Amari brightened. “I don’t think the meeting will last for much longer, so how about I start with my personal favorites and we go from there?”

“Sounds perfect.”

“Okay!” She spun around and started walking, not even checking to make sure he was following behind her. Rift almost had to run to keep up, her pace was brutal.

The first artifact display they stopped at was a stone mask, carved with intricate symbols that Rift recognized to be runes. “This one here,” Amari began, “belonged to one of the Cardinal Points, the magician of the south herself. The runes are incredibly complex, and….”

Rift tuned out most of her words, pretending to nod and listen while keeping an eye out for the gem. He’d already clocked most of the items he saw as objects of immense power or historical significance, sometimes both, setting them at hundreds of millions worth of gold each for the right buyer. Shame he was only here for one item….

Amari finished whatever she was saying about the mask and moved on, walking just as quickly to the next artifact, this one several rows of bookcases deep into the archives. “This gauntlet is composed of a metal rumored to grant its wielder strength equal to that of ten sang.”

Rift blinked in shock that wasn’t completely feigned. “I… what? Ten sang? From a glove?!”

Amari nodded earnestly, smiling at his surprise. “Indeed! No other artifact has been found across all four strongholds that matches its worth. Of course, we can’t have something like that out in the world to be used for evil purposes. Its first documented appearance was in the year….”

His stomach churned as his eyes darted around the archive. Why was he so nervous all of a sudden? No one else was around but Amari, and she had no intention of harming him, no knowledge of what he planned to do.

So why did he feel like he was being watched by unfriendly eyes?

Amari moved on again so suddenly he almost didn’t notice her departure, swiftly vanishing ever deeper among the maze of knowledge and danger. When he reached the display she stopped at, his mouth almost dropped.

There, draped on a smooth chunk of stone, was the gemstone he sought. It truly did appear to be made of sea glass, yellowish orange in hue. The gem was attached to a thin chain of dark metal and didn’t look anything more than a pretty necklace. But Rift’s employer wanted it, so that was what Rift was going to steal.

“What’s this?” He finally said, shoving down his excitement.

“It doesn’t appear like much, does it?” Amari asked, noting the look on his face. What she thought of it, he couldn’t guess, her expression of excitement remained unchanged.

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Then why do you want it so badly?”

Rift blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

Amari’s expression was now cold as ice. “You came here searching for something. Something to steal from the archives, while everyone else is busy at the Council meeting. You deceived everyone you came across, and you attempted to deceive me. Explain yourself, and perhaps I may let you live.”

Rift forced out a laugh. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about, Amari. This is ridiculous.”

“You’re right. It is ridiculous.” Her eyes narrowed. “Ridiculous how a common thief such as yourself thinks he can just waltz into the archives and take what he wants!”

“A common thief!” Rift exclaimed, heart pounding in his ears. “Quite the accusation.”

Amari’s eyes darkened, and this time when she spoke, a lick of flame darted from her lips. It winked out immediately. “You continue to lie to me. You had your chance.”

Before Rift could ask what she was talking about, she snapped her fingers. The sound echoed eerily throughout the archive, bouncing off the stone walls and floor. For a long moment, nothing happened. He wondered if she was bluffing.

And then he was tackled from behind.

Rift cried out as sharp talons dug into his left shoulder, slicing through skin and muscle and sinew and scraping against bone. Pain coursed across his nervous system as his arm went numb and the claws that wounded him began to lift him off his feet and into the air. 

White light streaked across his vision as he screamed, fire flowing through his veins, burning in his shoulder and at his right side.

Wait. His side? That was where… where….

Rift slowly reached into his pocket, his fingers closing around the strange object given to him by his employer. It was hot to the touch, like it had been left in a flame for too long. Why was it burning…?

Oh.

Oh!

Rift slowly, the movement sending more pain through his shoulder, more white light through his vision, ever so slowly, withdrew the object from his pocket and, before he could second-guess himself, flicked it behind him, at whatever creature was holding him in place.

No sooner had the object left his hand before an explosion rocked the archive. Rift was flung out of the grasp of the creature and slammed bodily into the stone pedestal, ears ringing, the scent of singed something filling his nose.

He groaned, shoulder throbbing, head pounding, the taste of heat and ash in his mouth as he opened his eyes to find himself surrounded by fire. Starving, ravenous fire that surged towards the bookcases, hungrily devouring the tomes and scrolls that rested on their shelves. Amari was nowhere in sight.

Rift quickly got to his feet, gritting his teeth as his head spun, and frantically searched for the gemstone. His eyes finally found it, lying on the ground a few feet away. He scooped it up and shoved it into his pocket before immediately taking off at a sprint despite how his body screamed at him to stop, to bandage his wounds, to do something other than run.

But if he didn’t get out now, he would never leave.

Either the fire got him, or the Draigo did.

He passed by the gauntlet on his way out and snatched it from its pedestal. “What were you thinking?” He cursed himself as he altered his course and grabbed the mask as well. “You’re just asking to get yourself hunted down!”

He was dead either way.

Disguise or no, he didn’t believe Amari wouldn’t track him down with whatever abomination from the depths she’d used to catch him. Which was why he needed to get as far away as possible with his prizes before the Draigo regrouped.

He’d blown up the Draigo stronghold.

Celestials.

He was so fucked.

[badbatchenthusiast]

how to do well at school

(work smarter not harder)

i’m trying to compile a list of what’s been working for me academically especially with all the fun side effects of being autistic in the education system (and the variable motivation/executive functioning that comes with it). queuing this forever so i remember to apply these, but if they help you feel free to let me know how it goes!!

1.) Print out notes.

To be fair, this only really works if you have access to a reliable printer, but I imagine a sizeable percentage of people do. For me it was definitely worth investing in one. This is enormously helpful for several reasons:

no need to make notes in class - it’s all there, in front of you, like subtitles to the lesson. makes it so much easier to follow the class and if you miss a day because you’re ill/not coping/have zoned out for 30 mins, you’re not missing valuable content you’re going to need to read up on later

annotating pre-printed notes with little details the teacher is saying adds valuable context and information, and allows you to write in analogies/mnemonics/key evidence/links to other parts of the course in a really different style to the main notes so it doesn’t get confusing to read (annotating hand-written notes can get messy)

having a physically printed copy makes it feel more real, and therefore less likely to disappear in your mind, than just electronic notes. handling actual paper is also less tiring than sitting with a laptop/tablet in a lesson and typing (especially for me)

having that day/week’s notes pre-printed over the weekend makes you feel much more organised and is hours less work than doing pre-learning by handwriting notes

if you type up the notes yourself into a table on word with key word/subtitle/question on one side and definition/answer/explanation on the other, you’re transforming the textbook information into new information, which is very valuable revision and will help with keeping it in your mind; it’s like flashcards, but in note form, and helps chunk content into more manageable pieces

i struggle with processing speed. listening to information *and* comprehending it *and* taking notes at the same time is too much, especially when people talk much faster than i can write. having it all pre-written means i can focus on just understanding and consolidating, and by the time we’re set homework i don’t have note-completion and content-learning to do on top of it

it helps with understanding of the course, in terms of what you need to cover in which topics and what’s coming up next

the best thing about this is it allows for a lot of flexibility in terms of how much time/effort you put into it. on days where i have the energy to sit and learn, i’ll make detailed notes on an upcoming topic with bulletpoints from the textbook and added links to our wider reading, or google context to anything i don’t get. on days where it’s not happening, i’ll copy paste from a reliable revision source/scan a page of the book and be done.

2.) Copy out answers before attempting questions yourself.

definitely one of the least motivating things when doing questions is not knowing how to start, or how to get the answer. a quick way to fix that and get more confidence is to copy out/annotate pre-written example answers or solutions from the textbook or mark scheme. this gives you a sort of blueprint to follow, and makes your time less wasteful if you’re often going straight into questions only to get half of them wrong.

youtube videos with example problems are also really great for this. pause the video before the solution starts and try to work through as far as you can, and when you get stuck unpause and finish copying out the working. doing this before starting homework gets you a higher grade on them and means you’re not wasting time getting things wrong, learning it incorrectly, and only finding out when you get it back.

for essay-based subjects, asking for exemplary answers to annotate is also very helpful. note down use of structure, sentence starts used, anything that you find is good about it and helps it meet the criteria. then, try and write a response to a different question in the same or similar style. get that marked, get feedback, try again.

3.) Practice questions are worth more than anything.

don’t waste time making hundreds of versions of your notes or exclusively rereading flashcards/the textbook. this might be helpful for content learning early on, but long-term retention and exam technique only come with practice. it’s annoying, sure, but works like a charm. so:

test yourself regularly - identify gaps in your knowledge and work to patch them, then test yourself again

get a feel for what kind of questions are usually asked in exams and write your own, then answer them - this, with time, will make exams predictable, or at the very least make you better at understanding what questions want from you

if your teacher lets you have extra practice questions marked, use them as an incredibly helpful source of feedback for improvement so there’s not such a steep learning curve with the first few assignments. if they don’t, use assignments intelligently to see what gets you marks and what doesn’t, then use the feedback on that to revise your technique and improve. if you do badly and don’t learn from it, this is a waste.

for the most part, teachers are on your side and want you to learn. if you’re stuck and don’t know how to answer questions/get correct answers, chances are there’s someone you can go to.

4.) Interesting information is your friend.

draw diagrams. make mindmaps. add pictures to your notes. colour code by topic. highlight things. annotate little fun facts. anything to prevent notes from becoming walls of off-grey text that you can’t be bothered to read. this also has the added benefit of being more interesting to do. so if you have a process to learn, make a flow chart with funky shapes. if it’s context you’re adding, make a timeline or spider diagram. type in memorable little comments or jokes that will help you understand things. copy out graphs and models and doodle important people’s faces. this sticks.

and if you’re feeling really outlandish, make some memes! even if they’re really bad. but for information you absolutely need to know and simply have to memorise, a bad rhyme or punchline will make it much easier to keep in your head, especially when it’s associated with something you enjoy and already think about a lot. finding creative ways to transform information helps the learning process tremendously, even if you just end up writing fanfiction of your favourite characters learning it too.

5.) Have a routine.

set out clear and consistent times to do work, where it’s hard to get distracted. any time spend working (if you’re working smart) stacks up, so that 20 minute train ride where you’d otherwise be scrolling? do some reading. organise your notes. do a problem or two.

consistency is key with learning. our brains aren’t made for storing irrelevant information, so keep everything relevant. to be fair, sometimes this does require an interest in learning not everyone has, but if you can engage with your subject critically and start thinking about it in your day-to-day life, getting into the habit of noticing things and going “oh, this key thinker would’ve hated this magazine” or “woah, i know the equation for the motion of this pen i just chucked” i think makes a real difference between doing well and excelling.

using spaces where you won’t be tempted to other things is also useful. if you have responsibilities when you get home, spend an hour at the library. meet your friends after 5, until then you’ve got homework. keep mealtimes, sleep and work schedules consistent and it’ll be harder for you to forget or have other things come in your way. this doesn’t need to be hours and hours, either; an hour a day that you can sit and reread your notes when you have a spare moment, bullet point an answer to an exam question to test yourself, annotate information you missed, do some wider reading, watch a youtube video on a topic you didn’t get — this all stacks up, and quickly. working smart is using the time you have as usefully as possible, and that starts with finding time you’re currently not doing much with.

[sammeltassensammelsurium]

35mm analog double exposures - REDUX EDITION

So, I was underwhelmed with the quality of the scans I got from the lab the other day. For reasons they only gave me 1024x1536px scans. Too small for the A3 wall calendars I want to print.

I have a box full of 35mm negatives from the 90s.

My dad's always eager to buy me new gear, because we bond over that.

My birthday's coming up.

Enter via the parcel guy: https://reflecta.de/de/pc-unabhaengig/476-reflecta-x33-scan.html

Above are the first 4 of that 36 shots roll. Cropped to 3x4 aspect ratio as opposed to the original 2x3. I got everything else in 3x4 these days...

I think I'm gonna put the second one up on my wall. One of my walls. Anyway. Yes, it was shot in landscape format, but rotated to portrait orientation it really looks more like an abstract painting than a photo of a specific thing. I really like that.

[rachaelmayo]

This is a color variant for Opal Sun which I completed in 2014.

Linework and pencilwork are below the text block, for those who are curious about different "phases" of a project.

This dragon design was inspired by the architectural and ornamental art of Bali and parts of Indonesia. I love the architectural flourishes that look like flames, feathers, plants, and dragons (as well as the way dragons and serpents from these areas of the world are depicted).

The original Opal Sun was done without any inking, so I printed off the pencilwork and went over it with Micron pens. I scan each major stage of a project, as I like to keep records and also may make use of earlier phases, as I did here. I'm glad I did, as I've been able to repurpose the pencil drawings as lineart for my coloring books. The image above is a test-drive that makes use of the "analog" line drawing.

I wanted a different, but similar, range of colors for this version of the dragon. If I remember correctly, the wings were the first thing I colored, and I used them to determine the color range of the rest of the dragon's body parts. It wound up with more of the pinky-lavenders than is normally my wont, but I liked the effect of both the colors and the gradations, and so kept them.

I made this with ink, Prismacolor pencil, one "druzy" acrylic shiny bit, and some Photoshop tweaking. (The black background needed to be "smoothed", as the scanner seemed to pick up every stroke of the colored pencils.)

Below is the linework before coloring (but after I cleaned it up in Photoshop), and also the original pencil drawing that I used for both versions of Opal Sun.

[thedalatribune]

© Paolo Dala

The Soul Of The Craft: Negatives

...from film’s first plummet in the 2000s, to its resilient return in the early 2010s, to its rediscovery by yet another new generation of shooters in the 2020s.

But in this latest renaissance - born of Covid-era lockdowns - Cohen has noticed one of the practice’s most precious components has been lost.

“They don’t pick up their negatives,” Cohen said of his customers, guessing that maybe 10 percent of them return for the rolls. Behind him, a colleague corrects him: “Five percent.” Another, laughing: “Zero percent.”

Across the world, the small cadre of commercial film lab developers describe similar conundrums: stacks of forgotten envelopes, limited storage space and warring impulses - to tidy the clutter, or preserve the creative souls of forgetful photographers. After all, it’s the strips of film, not the prints, that are legally the artist’s original work.

Put simply: Whoever has the negatives has the mechanism to reproduce the work but not the copyright to do so; the artist sans negatives has the right but not the means.

It’s a concept that has been battered in the age of digital cameras, then left for dead with the advent of iPhones. Dinosaurs of the photography game, negatives are the original images that are burned into frames when film loaded into an analog camera is exposed to light. They once were the primary deliverable when processing a roll of film.

In the digital age, most shops where people get their film developed will scan the negatives into a computer and just email the photographs to their customers.

“Negatives would’ve never been forgotten before, because people had to pick up the digital copy,” said Richard Damery, a developer who has worked at Aperture Printing in London for 15 years. “They can now have everything uploaded to them. They forget about the negatives.”

It can be hard for some to imagine (or remember) a time when a photograph involved more steps than just the instant gratification of looking down at a screen.

That’s especially true for much of Gen Z, the driving force behind the contemporary film resurgence. The industry has boomed in the years since the pandemic, and not just with upmarket brands like Leica; the classic Fujifilm disposables are back, too. For many young shooters, the anticipation and delayed payoff of film are a welcome salve to the 24/7 exposure of apps like Instagram...

Andreas Olesen, a professional photographer and co-owner of a lab in Copenhagen, said he still struggles to throw out people’s negatives even long after they’ve been abandoned. For him, they’re the soul of the craft.

“The negative is the score, and the print is the performance,” he said, paraphrasing the photographer Ansel Adams. Olesen has played with the concept in his own work; one of his projects, “Estate,” used a series of negatives his wife discovered in an antique shop to tell the story of a midcentury family holiday.

The forfeiture of negatives is far more consequential phenomenon than clerical clutter. It’s at the heart of unresolved questions about copyright and artistic ownership.

The likelihood that any passing film hobbyist will posthumously be elevated as the street shooter of a generation - well, it’s small odds. But perhaps it’s less about potential fame than creative diligence. After all, Olesen noted, there’s something timeless about negatives. In 50 years, his grandchildren may not even be able to access a hard drive or a CD with digital files.

Ali Watkins The Lost Art of the Negative

[vintageslideshow]

dammit, look what fell into my cart today

It happened again: today's thrifted slide/neg/print scanner is a Kodak P461. With the Kodak name on it, you would expect high quality.

But no, not quite, it was made by Pandigital in 2010, and they produced many fine products in the "best try" category. (Eight years later I still can't find my Pandigital e-reader that uses Android 3.) But with a $6 pricetag I can't complain about whatever I get. So this beast can scan prints up to 4x6 at 300dpi or 600dpi and slides at 1200dpi. The only things missing from this box are the manual (this is what the Internet is for) and half of the included MicroSD card, plus they pried the SD card adaptor open. Uh, okay, that's some pent-up aggressions there, so I'll just use one of my stray SD cards, thank you. Also included for some reason was a Targus SD card reader, so maybe that's just a swap or peace offering for the destroyed storage. Happily included are the calibration sheet, the slide and film adaptors, and the three cleaner accessories, along with the power cord and USB cable -- this scans to the SD card and runs on four AA batteries, but can be plugged into the wall and connected to the computer to either use the card as a memory device in My Computer or (with Kodak's drivers, which were on the destroyed card) saved directly to the computer. Another one of those "no computer needed, just give me a photo and I'll scan it to the card" doohickies. The difference between this Kodak (and last time's VuPoint) and most other standalones is this thing actually does scan rather than just take a photo. So you'd think the pictures would come out better?

Using the same slides for demo as I have used in the past...

Same issue -- despite scanning at 1200dpi they come out a bit jaggy despite the original being an analog film photo. Okay, so now let's try the print from a previous test also:

I will grant them credit that the sensor calibrator sheet works. I will also tell you that no matter how many times and ways I have cleaned it (by the instructions: use the cleaner tool; by geek standards: use canned air) there's still dust on the result that isn't on the print, just a lot less streaking than in the previous three runs through; the right photo is a zoom so you can see the dust more clearly.

But like the VuPoint, it automatically senses the edges incorrectly. Side-by-side are the result of scanning the last Hippies slide and what the thing really looks like according to my Epson scanner:

The purpose of the purple across the bottom is padding I put so the two images would be the same length and centering... thus you note that the top is the top, the right side is the right side, the left side got cropped by about 40 pixels, and the bottom was cropped by 117 pixels. I have no complaints about the color this time, though. The grain, yes, and the fact that it cropped the tail for no reason, but not the Kodak's slightly 'cooler' take and better balance that reduced the sunny golden tone and clarified the people in blue in the background to make the photo more aesthetic.

So I rate this one a bit higher than the last one, but still a quick and dirty amateur solution rather than anything you should rely on.

[bonyfish]

The two hobbies of mine I am the most immersed in right now are analog photography and tinkering with Linux on this scratch-and-dent refurbished no-longer-a-chromebook that I bought, and I find that kind of funny. Juggling tech from 1974 and tech from 2021. That said, given the amount of scanning and 3D printing that's currently happening in my film hobby, the levels of technology are not all that dissimilar. They also overlap in that I've purchased two heavily discounted pieces of tech and am now very tenderly getting all up in their respective businesses.

[kolajmag]

FROM THE ARTIST DIRECTORY

Vibrant, Narratively Rich Scenes

Northampton, Massachusetts, USA. Lachlan Thompson creates works of art that blend analog and digital materials and techniques to create vibrant, narratively rich scenes. Much of their work begins as analog collages, assembled through photographs, magazine collections–particularly political and psychological publications, as well as hand-me-down writings from largely transgender and other marginalized authors. They then scan their analog work, and digitally layer and manipulate it. When sourcing digital materials, they are particularly focused on using publicly available imagery, such as stock images and materials from digital archives with an emphasis on materials sourced from marginalized creators. Some pieces interweave their own personal poetry within them, while others manipulate resonate words from those of shared identity. Read More

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Kolaj Magazine, a full color, print magazine, exists to show how the world of collage is rich, layered, and thick with complexity. By remixing history and culture, collage artists forge new thinking. To understand collage is to reshape one's thinking of art history and redefine the canon of visual culture that informs the present.

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[ashutterdarkly]

Film Photography and Digital Correction

I see a lot of people online with really strong opinions about digitally touching up film photographs. The two extremes of the scale are "I touch up every photo, taking the actual photograph is only half the process" and "I wouldn't dare touch up my scans, if I need to adjust anything in post I took the photo wrong, and it would tarnish analog purity of the photo". I've been thinking about this recently, because sometimes I get a photo (or a roll 😢) where I think a color correction, a crop, and maybe a little dodge-burn. To Correct, or Not To Correct?

To Correct

Photography is old. The digital camera itself is older than most of the film photographers out there, and film is older than your great grandparents. The first digital camera was Kodak's prototype in 1975, and the first commercially available digital was released in 1990. If you see a photo from before 1990, it's a film photo. We had plenty enough time to figure out darkroom techniques to improve our photos, and a great negative was nothing without good printing technique. All those tools in image manipulation software like crop, dodge, burn, and mask? Those are darkroom techniques in the digital age. The symbols for each tool usually reflect the darkroom tools that were used. Saying that digitally correcting a shot is wrong is to say the same of darkroom technique.

Not To Correct

With enough practice, you won't need to do quite as much correction. Getting your exposure dialed in just right for the stock you're shooting, improving your framing skills, and finding the right glass for your style of shooting mean a lot. What matters is if you the artist like the results. If you find a stock that you really enjoy and practice with it enough to get it dialed right in and can pull results that you're really happy with right from the raw scan, there's no need to do anything to it. Even if the white balance is a little off, or the exposure isn't quite right, or whatever nitpick they have. You don't need to emulate the perfect and exact balance and exposure and stabilization that a modern digital will push out five times a second. It's not worth it, and it's not why we're here.

[shrutijadhav2139]

Industrial Cabineted X-ray Market Dynamics: An In-Depth Analysis of Factors Impacting Growth and Development

The industrial cabineted X-ray market refers to the sector dedicated to providing advanced X-ray systems used for non-destructive testing (NDT) and inspection in a variety of industries, including manufacturing, aerospace, automotive, and electronics. These X-ray systems, enclosed in secure cabinets to protect operators from exposure to harmful radiation, are essential tools for inspecting the internal structure of materials, detecting flaws, and ensuring the quality and integrity of components and products. As industries continue to demand greater precision, safety, and efficiency, the industrial cabineted X-ray market is experiencing notable growth and development, driven by several dynamic factors.

Key Market Drivers

Rising Demand for Non-Destructive Testing (NDT) One of the primary drivers of the industrial cabineted X-ray market is the growing demand for non-destructive testing solutions. X-ray systems allow for the internal examination of materials without causing damage, making them invaluable in industries where product quality and safety are paramount. In sectors like aerospace, automotive, and electronics, where even the smallest defects can lead to catastrophic failures, the need for high-precision inspection systems has increased significantly.

Advances in X-ray Technology Technological advancements in X-ray imaging and system integration have played a crucial role in the market's growth. Modern industrial X-ray machines are now equipped with digital imaging systems that offer higher resolution, faster scanning speeds, and better accuracy compared to older analog systems. These improvements allow for more efficient inspections, reducing downtime and increasing productivity in manufacturing processes. Furthermore, enhanced software capabilities, such as automated defect detection and analysis, have streamlined operations and reduced the reliance on manual interpretation.

Growing Focus on Quality Control and Safety With increasing pressure on industries to meet strict quality standards and safety regulations, the adoption of industrial cabineted X-ray systems has become essential. These systems are used to inspect a wide range of materials and components, from castings and welded joints to composite materials and printed circuit boards. Ensuring the structural integrity of products and components through advanced inspection techniques helps prevent recalls, reduce liability risks, and maintain consumer trust, thus driving the demand for these systems.

Restraints Impacting Market Growth

High Initial Investment Costs Despite the numerous advantages of industrial cabineted X-ray systems, the high upfront costs can pose a significant barrier to their adoption, particularly for small and medium-sized enterprises (SMEs). The cost of acquiring and maintaining X-ray equipment, along with the necessary safety and regulatory compliance measures, can be substantial. This may deter some businesses from investing in these technologies, especially in emerging markets where budget constraints are more pronounced.

Regulatory Challenges The use of X-ray technology is highly regulated due to the potential health hazards associated with radiation exposure. As a result, the implementation of industrial X-ray systems requires compliance with stringent safety standards and guidelines. Obtaining the necessary certifications, ensuring worker safety, and managing the disposal of hazardous materials like lead and chemicals used in the X-ray process can be complex and costly for manufacturers. The regulatory burden can, therefore, slow market growth in some regions.

Opportunities in the Market

Expanding Applications Across Industries Beyond traditional uses in manufacturing and aerospace, the industrial cabineted X-ray market is finding new applications in emerging industries such as robotics, renewable energy, and 3D printing. As these industries grow, the need for advanced inspection technologies to ensure product quality and performance will continue to rise. The adoption of X-ray systems for inspecting 3D-printed parts, for example, is a growing trend as these materials require new methods of testing and validation.

Emerging Markets As industrialization increases in emerging economies, the demand for advanced inspection solutions is expected to grow. Countries in Asia-Pacific, Latin America, and Africa are witnessing a rise in manufacturing activities, particularly in automotive, electronics, and heavy industries. This presents a significant opportunity for manufacturers of industrial cabineted X-ray systems to expand their presence and meet the increasing demand for quality control and safety testing.

Conclusion

The industrial cabineted X-ray market is poised for significant growth, driven by technological advancements, the rising need for non-destructive testing, and increasing demands for quality control in industries worldwide. While challenges such as high costs and regulatory constraints exist, the opportunities presented by emerging markets and expanding applications across various sectors offer promising prospects for market development. As industries continue to prioritize safety, precision, and efficiency, the role of industrial X-ray systems in quality assurance will remain indispensable.

[gelatinlabs]

How do photo labs in New Jersey offer advanced printing services?

Many photo labs in New Jersey employ the best technology and innovation and offer unique services for your prints. These labs provide various sophisticated printing services that one needs for their photography business or fun, from professional photographers to firms. Photo lab New Jersey should boast of its ability to provide excellent quality photos and impeccable details. There are also many available options for selecting the profile's glossy, matte, or satin finished appearance to the client's preference. For people interested in displaying the photos differently, custom canvas and metal prints remain the most famous.

Metal prints

Canvas prints have an artist-appealing look, making them suitable for home or even office décor. On the same note as canvas prints, metal prints have a more contemporary outlook and highly improved durability and colors. Most photo labs offer re-size and framing services to their clients to enable them to make lovely wall hangings. These items can be especially appropriate as gifts for birthdays, anniversaries, or any other holidays. Due to customizable services, customers can place text, select filters, and choose more individualistic layouts.

Large-format

For businesses and artists, large-format and exemplary art printing services are a must-have. This is because photo labs use archival qualities to develop the prints, making them quality enough for exhibition purposes or publicity. Some of the other facilities that most photo labs in New Jersey provide include printing and digital services, which range from photo restoration to retouching. By integrating innovation with modernization, it is able to continue offering premium quality printing solutions to people of different professions and everyday consumers. 

Comprehensive film processing

New York is a city for photography lovers, and it develops films and offers services to both amateur and professional people. Having developed a solid appreciation for analog photographs, this city has been full of comprehensive solutions to meet the differences in needs in film labs. Film labs, mainly located in New York, specialize in developing various kinds of film. They also provide push and pull processing for altering the film exposure, either for creative effects or in challenging lighting conditions.

Print services

Film development New York provides professional-grade print services. The customer can request either a traditional photographic print or an enlargement to show off his work. Printouts can also be styled and printed in glossy, matte, and fine art paper for aesthetic use. Some film labs also provide high-resolution scanning services. This allows photographers to digitize their negatives and slides. Scans are useful for archiving, uploading online, or digital editing. Labs provide various scan quality levels - regular, standard, and premium based on the customer's resolution level requirement and file type.

Restoration

In addition to transferring existing film, restoration, and archiving services are available for those whose film has aged or been damaged. Even scratches, fading, and other forms of deterioration can be corrected using specialized techniques to salvage memorabilia. Archiving services ensure that negatives remain safely stored for later release. Excellent results are achieved when traditional techniques meet modern standards at the film development labs of New York.