#seeing our interactions in the notes or captions...i don't even want to look at it

[viscericorde]

in the uncomfortable situation of having drawn a lot of art of characters that belong to a person that i want nothing to do with anymore. it's frustrating bc a lot of these pieces are also stuff that i'm proud of, skill-wise, but they are essentially tainted now. they will always remind me of who i drew it all for. but i also hate the idea of essentially throwing paintings into a digital fire.

[isfjmel-phleg]

Damage #1

I reread this issue this afternoon and had a sort of idea about a series of posts walking through Grant's solo and early appearances. So if no one objects too much to that, here we go.

The very first appearance of Grant Emerson: Damage #1, entitled "Damage," written by Tom Joyner and pencilled by Bill Marimon.

The first page: we meet Grant in his powered-up form, grotesquely muscular in a way that clashes with his youthful face and haircut, rubble at his feet, wearing his costume and an expression of rage. A very 90s look in general, but the absurd proportions do also give a sense of the uncomfortableness of the physical changes that Grant experiences at full power.

The captions introduce us to a boy frustrated by a lack of control in his life after constantly having to move, and how he has developed the Emerson System of five rules to survive socially as the perpetual new kid. And this system has failed. (I've already discussed the Emerson System in depth as a trauma response, and you can read about that here.)

Grant's school is in Marietta, Georgia, not Atlanta. He has never lived there, just in one of its suburbs.

Then we get a very different view of Grant as a typical lanky teenager, trying desperately to join the track team (Rule #1: Go out for the team, any team. Being on a team changes you from "the new kid" to "the new kid who's on the team.") even though it's not his first choice of sport, hoping to win but resigning him to settling for second place when a bigger guy shoves him around (Rule #2: Make friends, not enemies. If you don't have any friends, enemies are luxuries you can't afford.), and getting distracted by a girl who's watching him run (Rule #3: Don't even think about girls for the first two months in a new school. Girls cause you to break Rule #2.)

We can see that he's analytically minded, views social interactions as strategic, and tends to be a people pleaser at his own expense.

But then he somehow manages to come in first, "a few seconds off Olympic pace," which surprises him.

He has done a lot of odd, unexplained things lately: pulling the kitchen door off its hinges (his dad says the wood was just rotten), surviving falling out of a tree, and now being "fast enough to try out to be the new Kid Flash." Surely these are coincidences that will have no bearing on anything.

There's a lot of stock characters and situations for a teenage superhero comic: the unattainable and personality-less love interest, the nerdy friend, the bully, the soon-to-be hero struggling socially at school. It's nothing out of the ordinary, and perhaps that's intentional--lulling us into a certain set of expectations before throwing in the twists (such as: the hero's powers are actually a problem for him, not a source of liberation).

We're introduced to a significant trait of Grant's--his lack of emotional control. Enraged by getting bullied in front of his crush, he punches the nearest car--and destroys it. He instantly regrets this and runs away in a panic. Before Grant ever has explosive powers that he can't manage, he has explosive emotions and not the healthiest way of dealing with them, which will complicate the powers.

Note the 'Keep Out" sign on Grant's door. It's a typical item for his age, but in light of what we find out much later about his home life, it's not surprising why he would want to (futilely?) try to keep his parents out of his bedroom.

Our introduction to Grant's relationship with his parents reveals that they are not close. (Rule #4: Never tell your parents what's really happening with you. If it's good, they won't get why. If it's bad, they can't handle it.) They have a tendency to dismiss his concerns and here seem to be trying to gaslight him out of believing that he destroyed that car.

Grant has a very teenage outburst about how they never listen to him and don't care what he thinks. His parents' shocked expressions suggest that this isn't normal for him. When he punches a wall, he finds his powers are gone.

John Emerson plays the disciplinarian, ordering Grant to calm down and telling him to stay in his room for the night, while Kate Emerson positions herself as the "nice" one, promising to bring him his favorite dessert later. This seems to be the established family dynamic.

Grant's punishment isn't abnormally harsh, but his dad is clearly just enraged as he was a moment before, and Grant seems to fear his dad's anger. There's a pattern developing of mounting frustration, reacting and losing control, and regret.

(Note the glimpse in Grant's interests that we get in his bedroom--that model of the Enterprise hanging from the ceiling!)

Meanwhile, his parents are calling somebody to report that "Subject Telemachus is active" and rejoicing that "By tomorrow, he won't be our problem anymore," which is a totally normal and reasonable thing to do after your teenager yells at you.

The Emersons keep a photo of Grant by the phone...for reference? if they ever need to describe him to somebody?

The attack that leads to the complete unleashing of Grant's powers occurs in the middle of a history lesson on Pearl Harbor (which is an odd place for a history class to be at the beginning of the school year). There's a comparison being drawn between Japan's having "woke the sleeping giant" of America's power and America been irrevocably drawn into war and leading to the use of the atomic bomb and Grant's powers awakening, leading to his being drawn into another sort of war (being a hero) and causing great destruction.

Grant's first fight is with the supervillain Metallo, who has been contracted to kill him and breaks into the school looking for him.

But Grant doesn't go down easily: he survives being thrown through a wall and across campus, feels stronger, finds that his hands are glowing with power, and starts to expand in muscle mass.

As Grant punches Metallo, he is both trying to understand the situation and distracted by how cool his powers are.

By the time that he's gratuitously shirtless and able to lift a bus over his head, he's quite confident that he can outlast Metallo, but he's starting to be overpowered.

Grant is overwhelmed and in pain but decides to put everything into one punch. He can feel energy building in his glowing hands, but it builds up too fast and he can't hold it in--and he explodes!

He destroys his high school and has "skipped straight to Rule Five" (Rule #5: When you're ready to make your mark, make it big. Never be afraid to make a name for yourself.)

The first comment he hears in the aftermath is "Look at th' damage!"

Having expended his powers, Grant is now weak and exhausted. He appeals to his track coach for help, but the coach won't come near him and tells him to wait for the authorities to take care of him. He calls to his classmate Elliot, but he won't get too close either.

Grant is crushed to realize that everyone is now afraid of him, and he agrees that they should be, because he's not normal! So when Mandra, the girl he likes, tries to approach him, he runs away, afraid he might lose control again and hurt her.

Out of control and with no rules or anyone to look to, he heads home...

...only to find his parents gone and three costumed guys with weapons telling him to come with them. And that's where we leave off until #2!

The editor's page offers some background to the story's origin and creators. Damage was created by Bill Kaplan, Tom Joyner, and Bill Marimon, and was originally called Nuke, but Marvel already had that name in use (for a supervillain!). Kaplan ended up leaving DC for another job, so Joyner and Marimon took the book from there. At the time of writing, Joyner was getting his BA in English. (Imagine co-creating a successful comic book character as a side gig while you're an undergrad. I am impressed.) He has a website where he discusses his work on Damage (among other things), and he does seem to still have an affection for the character--he refers to Grant as "our boy" a couple of times.

My observations: This is a very 90s comic in general, and while the scenarios are bizarre (it only gets weirder from here), what makes it stand out for me is Grant himself. His "Emerson System" approach to life and how this controlled, analytical method conflicts with his inability to contain his own emotions make him believably human--and his powers tie in with this struggle. This isn't a story about a downtrodden kid suddenly empowered by acquiring amazing abilities; instead, power is a danger, something alienating. His problems have not been conveniently solved--they're only beginning.

Next time we'll take a look at #2 and find out where the Emersons vanished to.

[ekingston]

Ok, I just spent the last few minutes doing nothing but staring at Kara in that DWTS piece and I don't see it AT ALL. Beyond being blonde I see absolutely no resemblance between your Kara and either Sara or Ava. It's just not there.

It's a gorgeous work of art. If anon needed to look at Lena’s hair (ignoring the fact both characters are clearly named in the piece and the caption) to figure out the blonde was Kara I suspect that they have worse eyesight than me without my glasses, and I’m not legally or safely allowed to drive without them.

And you would think that humans as a species would have figured out by now that “Not to be [incredibly insulting in one way or another] but [is incredibly insulting]” is not a thing that is ever ok to say to anyone at any time. “Not to be a dick but” then don't. Just stop talking and cut your losses there. Creatives in particular have already said it to ourselves a million times in our heads, we don't need outside confirmation that our self-doubt was right all along.

I had a chapter I posted with a note “this is the most nervous I have been about any piece of writing I have ever done. I hope it doesn't suck too much.” and then got a comment “Since you asked for criticism [here are all the reasons this sucked and one minor ‘compliment’ at the end]”. Like exactly what in that note says “yes I welcome people ripping apart something I spent the last several months agonizing over”? Nearly made me quit writing altogether. I do not understand the way these people think and hope I never do.

i’m sorry that happened to you! making something and sharing it with the world will always be two very different joys to me — creating is a given but publishing it is a choice, and especially when you first get started, putting your work online is an incredibly vulnerable & incredibly brave thing. i know how devastating having even one person receive it like that can be — good for you for not letting it stop you!

to be honest, i'm still amazed by how much the culture in the fandom spaces i’m in subscribes to the ‘don’t like, don’t interact’ idea. my first experiences with publishing fanwork (fic) happened in the early 1700s, when getting feedback was rare (most websites didn’t have a built-in function to respond, so you’d only get people going through the trouble of emailing you their thoughts directly) and when it did come, the comments leaned toward the brutally honest, like you had presented your work to a classroom of your peers ready to pick apart the things they thought needed work. (in other words, there were a lot of shit sandwiches.)

the thing is that anonymous critiques like that — while having their value, especially when english was still a foreign language to me! — will never be very effective, because they’re coming from a random stranger whose credentials are entirely unknown. i’ve always learned the most from friends whose work i admire and who i know are genuinely interested in helping each other improve. those are the people i want to be learning from (and with)! 

i’m sure you know this but it bears repeating how much of what we love about fanwork is exceedingly subjective, and the more you find your own style, the more you realize there’s not one way to ‘do’ art (whatever kind) correctly. no matter how ‘good’ your work is, someone will inevitably be unhappy with your choices.

so i assume most of the anonymous criticism we do receive is from people who aren’t writers or artists themselves, and that they’re clueless both to what they’re talking about and how their words will land. it’s made it much easier for me to shrug off their remarks and continue doing what i love. i hope you feel that way too! i hope we have an easy week ahead with plenty of time, energy and inspiration to create whatever we choose to!

[slightlyrebelliouswriter23]

just want to say (cos this post is making the rounds again) that even though post + is a fairly off-the-radar topic these days, the message behind this post is still valid.

creative people on this app need you to know a few things:

posting is inherently performative.

for literally any kind of post but especially for creative works. if we wanted to create something "for ourselves" (like many people on tumblr say we should do instead of "begging" for notes), it would remain on our computer hard drives, never to be seen by the internet.

if we're posting online, it means we want people to see it. it means we're proud of our work, and sure. we might even want attention for the work we put in.

anyone who says they post their works just for themselves or who encourages others to do so instead of focusing on notes is in extreme denial about what fandom is actually about and what the internet is actually about.

wanting attention should not be treated as inherently immoral, and it's astounding how far people on here will go to make us feel that way.

just because i want people to see my writing doesn't mean i'm trying to con you out of your time and energy. i'm not forcing you to keep reading, that's on you.

the unspoken contract between writer and reader (or artist and viewer) is that if you like the piece enough to keep reading/looking, then you have consented to do so. you can always click out or keep scrolling if you decide this is not the fan work for you.

the problem with free creative works on tumblr is that just because you have read someone's work or seen someone's art doesn't mean they know you have seen it.

on tumblr, we don't have a "views" or "hits" counter. we only know if someone has seen our work if they choose to physically interact with it.

so sure, likes are appreciated. but the reason reblogs and comments are so beloved on the tumblr creative community is because it provides tangible affirmation that someone appreciated your work (comments) and spreads the content to a wider audience (reblogs).

typically in fandom, initial posting is for the self. but additional posting (as in, anything past the first few chapters/edits/art pieces/etc.) is directly linked to engagement.

i have made exactly 44 edits for a fandom comprised of about a dozen people on Tumblr. i've posted 5 of those edits. and, despite the posts being up for well over a year each, they have barely broken 50 notes.

that doesn't mean i've stopped making edits, or that i don't appreciate the love those edits have been shown by an admittedly very small fandom. it just means that the effort i go through to format a post with pretty fonts and gradients, to find a quote for the caption, to make the edits themselves look flawless and/or exactly how i want them to look, is not quite worth the attention the edits receive on here.

which is fine! i make them now just for myself, and only if i'm in the mood, and that kind of freedom is priceless. i don't have to bother with all the fancy stuff that i would if i were planning on posting, because it's just for me and it makes me happy.

however! if i got a good amount of engagement on those edits in the future, it might spur me to polish off and post one of the 39 other edits the likes of which the fandom cannot conceive (because i haven't posted them).

hiya! in the midst of the post+ shenanigans, i want to remind people that paying your content creators IS common courtesy. consider the form of payment that doesn't cost you a penny:

✨ Reblogs! ✨

if you're mad about the idea of content creators having the option of a paywall, just remember that reblogging IS payment to us lowly fic writers and content creators. the best way to convince us not to charge for our time and content is to support us through feedback and/or boosting our posts.

[echo-three-one]

I posted 4,087 times in 2021

1058 posts created (26%)

3029 posts reblogged (74%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 2.9 posts.

I added 759 tags in 2021

#asks - 160 posts

#ray rambles - 95 posts

#horrayfic - 92 posts

#alex echo 3 1 - 79 posts

#john soap mactavish - 71 posts

#codmw - 57 posts

#whateverittakes - 53 posts

#john price - 53 posts

#anon - 52 posts

#gary roach sanderson - 47 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#wait until you hear about vlookup hlookup pivoting tables doing graphs and conditional formatting oh boy excel has been my life for 4 years

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

I rly don’t want anything but a ghost x reader :’) because I miss my baby

When I saw this, I wanted to initially bail this ask and apologize. I didn't want to get called out again as a terrible Ghost fic writer and get blocked by more blogs but eh... I guess there are perks of being a writer... Just gotta accept and keep moving on.

Anyways. this one's short and kinda not what everyone would expect from me.

Hope you have fun, readers. (Wait, I have readers aside from notif squad?!)

You unloaded the last box and dropped it on the floor by the door, wiping your forehead as you placed your hands on your hips and looked at your new home. This is it, you were finally living the dream. Leaving your country was never easy, but you thought of spreading your wings and the idea of a fresh start was what's best for you.

Your new apartment room was the most decent you could get out of all your options. It looked like someone left on a rush as you saw a newspaper from last week still on the table by the living room. Guess they left some of their stuff for you.

Oddly enough, the said newspaper attracted your attention as the page was open on an article that showed 2 people, who looked like soldiers, one had a mohawk and the other looked old, had a moustache and an explorer hat. It was labeled 'Most Wanted'. You didn't bother to check the rest of the article and kept the newspaper immediately, thinking that you could use it for when you paint the walls.

Still tired from travel, you decided to unbox your albums and notebooks from highschool, as you felt a sudden wave of nostalgia. You just arrived in the new country for like 2 hours and you already felt homesick.

Among the stack of notebooks and binders, one particular book caught your attention. Your high school diary, which was unlocked for some reason and you were glad it was, because you were sure you never found any key when you packed your stuff.

You flipped through the pages of your vibrant high school life and smiled at the narration, word usage and good memories it had. Until one summer when you found a photo attached to the page.

The photo was that of you and Simon Riley, he was one year ahead of you and you both met at  art club. Well, he wasn't a member there but a football toppled your popsicle Eiffel tower and he stayed up until night to help you fix it back.

You were both sitting by the dock of the lake, your smiles were over the heavens, laughing at something that wasn't remotely funny.

The caption read: 

See the full post

72 notes • Posted 2021-05-13 10:34:23 GMT

#4

Anne and Dan are getting married? What's that supposed to mean?

"It means they're promising to be united with each other forever." Eddie replied as he tightened his necktie.

Just like us?

"Ours is too literal, V. Their union is like metaphorical."

Whatever. You said there will be something to eat. And that's all I care about. I kinda liked her, Eddie. Why did we let her go?

"Honestly, I don't even know..."

78 notes • Posted 2021-08-27 16:08:02 GMT

#3

I used to write stuff.

Icon from this awesome blog

All Works are tagged with horRAYfic

Series

A Forgotten Memory (Alex "Echo 3-1" x OC)(13/13) ✅

Whatever It Takes (Task Force 141 Multichapter Fic) (45/45) ✅

The Bounty Hunter (Alex Western!AU Fic) (3/?)

Bell's Choice (Interactive Fic)

A New Start (Bell x ??? Fic)

One shots and Requests

Midnight Coffee Rush <NSFW> (John "Soap" MacTavish AU x Reader One-shot)

All in a Day's Work <NSFW> (Frank Woods x Reader One-shot) REQUEST

Echoes of A Modern War (Alex "Echo 3-1" x Reader One-Shot)

What?! We're having a baby? <NSFW> (Frank Woods x Reader One-shot) REQUEST

Hit me with your best shot (Russell Adler x Fem!Bell)

Step 8: Freedom (Alex Mason x Reader) REQUEST

As the Temperature drops <NSFW> (Alex "Echo 3-1" x Samantha)

Take Me Home (John "Soap" MacTavish x Reader) REQUEST

A Year had Passed (John "Soap" MacTavish x Reader) <NSFW> REQUEST

Home at last (Farah Karim fic) REQUEST

Wish Granted (Frank Woods x OC ft. Alex Mason) <NSFW> REQUEST

Ghost x Reader fic based off of Taylor Swift's Mine

Fluffy Adler Fic based off of Taylor Swift's Cornelia Street

82 notes • Posted 2021-03-21 07:02:36 GMT

#2

All in a day's work

A Frank Woods x Reader One Shot

NSFW warning ( Yes this means both Not Safe For Work and Naked Sexy Frank Woods)

Read at your own risk.

Summary : Frank comes home from a tiring trip and you decide to cook him his favorite dinner. Little did you know that he's craving a different menu than what you have planned.

Requested by @maximumpoetrygalaxy

⚫⚫⚫⚫⚫⚫⚫

The savory scent of roast turkey wafts across the kitchen as you transfer it from the baking tray to the plate, humming a tune of your favorite song.

Today is a very special day, because your man Frank Woods comes home from a three day work appointment across the country. You're sure he's going to be tired, so you prepared a feast fit for a king like him. He's never been a person who likes material gifts and you know full well that the best way to your man's heart is through his stomach. You set up the table, trying to make it as romantic as possible, with the hopes of sending a message. After all, you've been away from each other's grasp for quite a long time and you believe you both needed a moment together.

Glancing at the clock, you note that he could be here any minute, so you slowly dim the lights and light up the candles you've placed, sliding away your apron as you stand by the door wearing a beautiful red dress you wore when you first met.

Your heartbeat rises as you hear the revving of his car stop and heavy footsteps approach the door.

"Y/N! I'm home!" he roars, his voice is always that rough and tough, and it instantly turns you on when you hear him say your name.

"Welcome home, Frank!" You greet as soon as he pushes the door open. His eyes widened as he sees you in that dress, you also notice his jaw drop. He then quickly snaps back to his senses as he gives you a tight hug, dropping his bag on the floor. You could feel his warm length bulging from his jeans, making you stifle a moan as he pulls away.

"Hey, Y/N. I miss ya." his eyes stares at yours suggestively. You know this look, and you feel excited knowing that no matter how tired he was, he's still up to it.

You sway your hands across his muscular shoulders and slides it down to his arms, feeling the toughness by squeezing it softly using your thumbs. He might not say it, but he sure damn loves it when you appreciate his 'gains'.

"I miss you too..." You smile as your eyes never leaves his sight, it feels like you two have been sending mental images to each other, and those images happen to mean the same thing. Rough Sex.

He quickly swings his hand and slams the door shut as his hand gently squeeze your waist pushing you to the sofa. You giggle as you look at him unzip his leather jacket, and slowly take it off revealing a plain white t shirt underneath. You take your time and appreciate how the soft white fabric clings on to his shape, especially around the arms, eyes glinting reminding him of how much you miss his presence. A soft chuckle escapes his lips as he slowly crawls over you until his forehead rests against yours.

"Damn, you really made me feel welcome. I could smell my favorite food already." he hushes just inches from your face, his voice vibrates across your ears sending shivers across your body.

"I'll let you decide which to eat first." you whisper against his ear, blowing a tickling gust against it. He gets the idea as he immediately gives you a kiss. His lips hungrily crashed against yours as you respond with matching intensity, showing how much you hunger for his taste as well as his touch. Soft moans mixed with smooching sounds fill your ear as you slowly close your eyes and enjoy the magic of Frank's mouth, your hand clinging on to his hair as tight as you can, letting him know that he shouldn't stop doing it.

See the full post

88 notes • Posted 2021-03-05 04:01:52 GMT

#1

Price : Any questions?

Nikolai raises his hand : So, if each one of you we're to post a TikTok doing that Rasputin trend, which one would have the most likes?

Gaz : Probably Ghost, he has lots of girls simping over him

Ghost : *scoffs* So does Soap.

Soap : *visibly confused* What about Roach or Gaz? they're younger and trendier

Roach : I know how to use the hashtags and get most views.

Price : I MEANT QUESTIONS ABOUT THE BRIEFING!

99 notes • Posted 2021-02-15 22:22:57 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[winchester-reload]

Hi, Jackie. Hope your doing well. I've been coming across many Destiel fanart videos on Tik Tok featuring a lot of your artwork--and not just yours, but many other creators' works, including creators that specifically state "Don't Repost My Work." A lot of these creators don't have a tik tok and can't prevent this happening. The artwork's been found on Pinterest, which is even worse. It's not okay and I'm not sure what I can do to prevent it happening. Any advice/help is appreciated ❤

I wish I had a good answer for you, but I don’t. Unfortunately it’s kind of the nature of the internet beast for this to happen. People see something they like--they share it. It’s not necessarily an act of disrespect or aggression, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt the artist.

Shared, reposted, and uncredited art creates an audience with no path back to the artist who made it. In this case, the artist never gets hits, reblogs, comments, asks, prints, commission requests, FEEDBACK, etc. and the audience doesn’t get more art/a way to support the artist who made the thing they loved so much.

If the artist doesn’t get work, it eventually leads to no new artwork. Or, at least, much much less of it as the artist is forced to look elsewhere for income and thus forfeit their creative time. It’s a bad situation, and none of us want that, right? Art is like a fresh centerpiece in an old room. You might love the room, but damn, that new rose bouquet really brings it alive again, doesn’t it?

I think the most effective thing we can do right now is to help POLITELY police our own community. Find reposted, uncredited art? Seek the source. Tell the artist where their art has been reposted. Ask around and see if you can find someone who knows. Tell the poster that they need to add credit. Encourage the community to interact with artist posts above reposts/edits/etc.

I mean, you all are my heroes when I get a tagged in comments on Instagram from people who’ve found some of my uncredited art, politely reminding the poster to add credit.

And, for the record since this ask is in my inbox and it’s getting published to my blog, I want to note that I’m not as strict as some artists. I love seeing tik tok compilations/other celebrations of my art and how you all relate to it. Your interaction with the thing I made GIVES ME LIFE. I only ask two things: 1. Always include credit, and 2. on Tumblr, please don’t repost. I bet you I have a post for that art already, and if you can’t find it, feel free to ask me. I’ll dig it up. 

Actually, I lied, there’s one more thing: 3. DO NOT REMOVE MY CAPTIONS ON MY TUMBLR POSTS I WILL HUNT YOU DOWN ISTG (it doesn’t irk me at all...) 

Anyway, BUT that doesn’t mean you should apply my philosophy to all other artists. Go to their blogs and see what their policies are. When in doubt, do not repost.

Be kind to each other and support each other. 

[depressedtransguy]

if you're not @angelwiththeblue-box and you read this then I'll send you back in time to stop your parents from getting together and boom you're never conceived fuck you back to the future rocks

When she opened her mouth to respond she spoke in an alien language, so closed captioning was offered at the bottom. It was a very organized recording. "People of Creuclite! Your coward of a tyrant has been slain! And you're now free to build up your own government and live your lives!"

The allies in the crowd cheered even louder, while the tyrants' following fell to their knees in submission. But then, to Frigga's confusion, the allies dropped to their knees too and raised their hands up to her. "Thank you, our new Queen!" The crowd cheered while Frigga gasped in shock.

"No, no! I mean, I'm honored that you would want me to rule, but I'm 16! Also half of my family has a really bad experience with being royalty, so I don't think I should ever rule anything, but really, thank you!" she called to the crowd with a wave, wincing slightly in apology at their disappointed groans. "It's alright, you guys'll get to build your own government that's best for you! And I'll visit if you need help!" As they began to cheer again, she glanced at her watch and realized what time it was on Earth. "Oh, shit. I have to go, I'm late for dinner! But good luck!" With a final wave of her fingers she disappeared in a flash of green, and right after that, Anthony made the screen go black.

Thor was the first to comment. "'Half my family has a really bad experience with being royalty'?" he questioned and turned back to face Frigga who was poorly hiding a smile.

"Oh come on Uncle Thor, we've been told everything from Jotunheim to Hela, we know what the fuck happened," Frigga countered with a flourish of her wrist.

Anthony agreed with a nod and a small smirk. "Didn't stop you from ruling over Sucoria, did it?"

Frigga jumped in before anyone else could question what that meant. "I'm allowed to have a little fun too," she corrected with no contradictions. "You get to play with your little gadgets and your little science experiments, I got to be queen of a diamond planet for four months until they realized that I had no intention of ruling them, only of draining their wine supply, until a secret conspiracy stabbed me like Caesar."

"And you're proud of that?" Stephen questioned.

"Extremely! Anthony's just jealous because he's never been queen of anything." Anthony tried to butt in only for him to be cut off once more. "Scratch that, you're a queen all the time."

She laughed hard while her brother rolled his eyes and dropped his gaze back down to his tablet. Loki probably smiled for the first time that day. And Tony and Bruce were still watching from the sidelines and taking notes on the interactions of the group.

"Oh, I crack myself up."

"Well at least someone's laughing."

Thor raised his hand up again, so Anthony once again called on him. "Okay, so, that was incredibly cool, and I really want to have a drink with you-" he pointed to Frigga from over his shoulder "-at some point, but you said that we could access any point in time between now and 2066. Does that mean that you can access what is going on in the year you came from?"

Anthony's head shot up before it went right back down, him typing furiously on the tablet until he reached an answer. "Yes." He looked up to his audience. "We can see them."

Stephen and Loki especially leaned forward, knowing they and their future relationship would be the thing on broadcast to the room, and, although embarrassed, were interested. A picture appeared on the screen once more only a few seconds later.

"That's the Kyln," Thor recognized.

The 'camera' took it's time panning down the prison's hallway that Frigga knew better than the back of her hand until some sound suddenly started seeping into the room. Grunting, cries of pain, and what seemed to sound like punches and kicks landing grew louder and louder until their view was finally opened up to the main prison area.

And there were bodies... everywhere. Most were guards, prisoners seemingly still locked up in their cells and physically undisturbed, and the cause of their death quickly being revealed when a man all in black somersaulted into the area and tackled one of the last standing staff members. The 'camera' moved closer.

"I SWEAR I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING!" the man pinned on his stomach desperately begged, his arms wildly flailing until the anonymous attacker pinned down his wrists. "I DON'T KNOW!"

"And I don't care." The assailant's voice was deep and gravelly but still unrecognizable to the group watching the scene. Said assailant then took a knife out from his belt and raised it high above his head, attempting to strike a killing blow right at his C1 through C2 vertebrae, and seemingly going to get away with it.

Until something crashed into him from behind and he was sent sailing forward until his forehead smacked into the steel ground and his body skidded to a halt. His head immediately flicked up to get a look at who had dared oppose him.

It was another guard, who was doing his best to remove the floor cuffs from his friend's wrists. "You're a brave one, aren't you?" the man in black taunted, pulling a knife out of thin air and flipping it in hand just as the cuffs broke off. "Really an unfortunate trait."

"I'm not afraid of you." The tremble in his voice was obvious. "You're just a... a monster."

The assailant scoffed loudly, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Well that's not very nice, now is it?" The knife vanished as quick as it had appeared, and in its place appeared a very familiar crimson band that was soon tossed around the guards neck and then thrown over the upper railing. The guard choked desperately as he hung. "So I suppose I shouldn't be very nice either."

"Who the hell is this?" Stephen whispered to himself, his interest peaking at the use of Kamar-Taj magic. Previously he had assumed it to be Loki, since the future was supposed to be showing them two, and the Kyln was where Frigga said she had been locked up, but now he wasn't sure. It couldn't be him at least he knew since he would never choose to stab someone as a way of killing them due to the state of his hands. (Sure, the incessant killing also wasn't his mantra, but he didn't know what he'd do for his kids since he technically didn't have any yet.)

His question was about to be answered as the recently freed guard bravely ran up to him and tore off his hood from behind. Wavy black locks were released and tumbled down his shoulders until his pale face whipped around to the only guard left standing. It was Loki. And he looked royally pissed.

The guard meanwhile, looked shocked. "Holy shit, I-I'm-" the mask fell from his hands as he tripped over his words and desperately tried to get out an apology that would save his life.

Unfortunately for him, there were not enough words in all the languages in the universe that could make him live.

"I'm sorry too. But not for you." Loki pulled out a gun and shot him point blank in the face. "For whoever has to clean up the blood."

With a small sigh the god then tossed the gun aside and ran his black painted fingernails through his hair, toe stepping over the strewn bodies until he was almost at the room where Frigga had been led into. But then he suddenly jerked to a stop.

And with him did the whole present room. They were all way too over-invested. Especially Loki- but he had the best excuse to be since he was the one on screen. Maybe if he focused on the screen enough he could repress the reality of the situation even better.

Future Loki looked out of the corner of his eye without moving, clearly scanning the perimeter, before he suddenly picked up a knife from a nearby body and flung it behind him. It stopped short just before it hit a pale forehead with a little bit of brown hair drooping down. Stephen. "Impressive feat, darling," he murmured as he snatched it from the air, gesturing at all the bodies around. "It was extremely unnecessary, yet, still impressive."

"Oh shut up, Stephen," Loki responded with a quirk in his smile and a warm look in his eyes to his partner across the room.

"I mean, I expected the dramatics, it's you, but this is really something," Stephen continued as he walked forward, gesturing erratically until he was close enough to grab Loki's hips and pull him into a greeting kiss. "Hi."

"Hi." After the following tight hug they parted slightly to keep talking. "Did anyone know anything?"

Stephen sighed in disappointment and shook his head. "Unfortunately, no. I talked to everyone. Thor, Quill, Wong, Mantis, the other guardians, Valkyrie, Christine, Atreo- everyone, and they all know nothing. And now they're worried because they know that we can't find our kids. What about you?"

"Well I did manage to confirm that Frigga was indeed imprisoned here- for war crimes on Xandar-"

"I told her to stop going there."

"Yes, we all have, but she likes it there." Stephen shrugged so he continued. "Anyway, she was here, but nothing on the cameras showed anything of her breaking out. But she's not here. It's like she... vanished into thin air." Both of them took a small second of silence. "As for Anthony, I think he was supposed to be on a date with Atreo."

"Yes- I should have mentioned that. Atreo said that he canceled at the last minute, saying that he had to break his sister out of prison, and nothing else. So I suppose he was in the Sanctum in his lab, as he usually is when he helps her, but there's nothing there."

Loki groaned and buried his face into the crook of his husband's neck, digging his fingers into the back of his robes as Stephen began to gently rub his back.

"You know we're going to find them, right?"

"We better," Loki growled before pulling back. "Or else I'm going to tear the universe apart."

Stephen smirked lightly before cupping his cheek and shaking his head. "We will. They don't stand a chance against us."

"Together." Once again did Loki reveal a genuine smile before pulling his husband into another kiss.

Present Loki bit hard on his tongue as he turned a dark red, attempting to cover the color with his hands, and managing to make it unnoticed to everyone except Thor and Stephen. Thor since he was sitting right next to him, and Stephen because he had been glancing over at him way too often. Although he had been thinking about him and Loki since that morning, the kissing kind of sent his queer brain into hyper drive. And he couldn't stop looking.

"So," Loki began after the kissing was concluded, making the formerly distracted members of the room focus up again, "where do we go from here?"

"Home. Let's... let's start at home."

"Sounds perfect."

With their hands connected Loki then teleported them both to most likely the Sanctum, leaving the entire present room staring at the slaughter and shocked to their cores. "What the fuck," Tony broke the silence with even though it was just a murmur under his breath as he scribbled on his notebook.

"I have the same question," Stephen agreed to no one in particular.

"Well I don't," Frigga contradicted with a bit of teleportation to move herself more into the circle of the group. "Now we know they're looking for us."

Anthony concurred. "Not like there was any doubt in that, they are going to terrorize the universe, but confirmation is always nice," he pointed out.

Stephen was meanwhile once again staring at Loki. He seemed to be slightly curled into himself with his legs crossed tightly and his hands gripped on opposite arms, eyes anxious and perhaps overwhelmed, and Stephen was worried about him. He didn't like the guy, but... he couldn't not care. They were married in the future, and he clearly loved him to an extreme extent, so a new feeling of protectiveness and possessiveness had been born inside him in just the last 24 hours. And yet he barely even knew him. It was completely bizarre, of course, but, so was everything else.

His though process was thankfully broken soon enough when Tony spoke up once more, a continuation to his 'what the fuck' comment. "Question for Anthony. Just a confirmation, why was he wearing a mask? I figured Loki would like to be eminent for his crimes." After being shot a glare, the billionaire raised his arms up in defense, but didn't rescind his statement. "I just figured."

"No, no, you're right," Anthony confirmed. "All of us do. I've never worn a mask in my life, the only change being erasing my heritage lines to make sure that I'm not overly noticeable, and Frigga always leaves her calling card when she breaks the law. But I understand his actions. Basically- they're vulnerable. They don't have us, they're worried, and they're desperately searching for something that they don't know where to look for. And since they're vulnerable, if any single villain or even good guy in the universe gets even a whiff of their weakness, they'll be facing a much bigger problem than just our disappearance."

"Exactly," Frigga agreed. "The universe doesn't like us. Whether it's for our crimes, our heroism, or even our queerness, 99% of the people in the universe don't like us. So he's just protecting them from possible outside force in order to be as safe as possible. Sure, everyone died, but if someone gets ahold of the footage or the prisoners go out and tell a bunch of people what they just saw, chaos would no doubt ensue."

As Tony instantly wrote down the notes, Anthony folded the tablet into his chest and furrowed his eyebrows at his log. "Alright... Thank you for that. And I suppose it makes sense based on the little context we have."

"Little context? Put the two chaotic and unincluded sorcerers in the room together and you have your context," Frigga corrected with a knife pointing at Tony.

Bruce nodded with a slight shrug to indicate that she was in fact correct. "But since we have what we do have so far, I think we should have a discussion with Anthony about how they plan to get back, as I assume you'd both like to."

"I would love to, I have a Ted Talk in France any day now. Then? Then."

"And I have an alien dictator to kill. The hit was put out on him like a week ago, and if I don't get him soon enough, my record as a bounty hunter will get a black mark on it. And I need to make money somehow."

Tony and Bruce glanced at each other. "Okay, ignoring that since we don't have time to unpack that, and, I can't believe I haven't asked this already, but have you guys eaten anything since you got here?" the former, the dad of course, asked.

"We had some toaster waffles last night as we explored the Sanctum pre-relationship," Frigga answered. "So technically yes, but it hasn't been much."

"Why'd you do that?"

"Well we knew it wouldn't be like how it was when we grew up, obviously, so we wanted to see how bland it was before any of us entered the picture," Anthony continued after his sister.

"Yeah, and the answer turned out to be 'incredibly'. Like I knew there wasn't going to be much of an impression without any of us living there, but there was barely any fucking food for us to steal!"

Stephen held back a scoff. "I'm sorry I didn't stock my fridge for my future kids."

"You should be," Frigga shot back as she spawned a pad and pencil in her hands with a green swipe. "But, even though I do want food, I have an off topic question, Anthony."

In anticipation of her question, Anthony sighed deeply, but did wave his hand and allow her to continue.

"Are we in Back To The Future?"

"I should have predicted that, no, this is nothing like Back To The Future because time doesn't work like that," he corrected with an adjustment of his glasses.

Frigga leaned forward. "So Back To The Future is a lie?"

"Yes, I'm sorry that a time travel movie from 80 years in the past- 40 years from where we are now -isn't exactly correct on how the space time continuum works. Not even I completely understand its complexities and structure, as I was explicitly told not to mess with it no matter what," Anthony detailed. "Even though now that's exactly what I have to do now. I mean we, I suppose I'll be working along with Stark and Dr. Banner, but I'll do all the work."

Tony opened his mouth to respond, but Bruce clamped a hand over his mouth first just in case. "Who told you not to mess with the space time continuum?" the latter asked. "I mean it's a smart thing to do, the only time we took it into our hands was when it was a matter of life or death, but you... you don't exactly strike me as a person who listens to directions."

"Oh you're right, I don't. Neither of us do. It's part of the reason why the majority of the universe hates us. But when my parents give me one rule to directly abide by because I could very possibly collapse everything that we know with my 'fuck around and find out' method, I'm going to fucking listen."

His sister was suspiciously scribbling away in her sketchbook, but she did look up at him when he was finished speaking. "I don't know why you'd say that to this crowd, there's not one of them without daddy issues," she pointed out, gesturing to them all to close her point. "I doubt most haven't if any at all have respected their parents."

"That's true. My apologies."

[barbara-costa]

5b. Probe Packs: Disposable Camera

Photo essay captions from bottom to top

1. A friend of a friend took a photo of the bartender serving his beer.

2. His 6-year-old daughter, after being instructed to take a photo of something that represented her, took a photo of her dad.

3. I took a photo of the new BT phones, because phone boxes have a very special meaning to me since I was a child.  In the 90′s we had no phone at home and I used the phone box down the road to call my father and cousins. When I moved to London,  I used phone boxes to call home using a phone card.  Many people don’t know about these new free phones.  They make a big difference in the lives of people who need them as I have spoken to people who rely on them to use the web, charge their phones and make phones calls.  I think they are amazing and something that only a city like London would care to offer.

4. The next photo was taken by my friend’s husband.  Coming from the countryside in the UK, he loves the convenience of having pubs nearby and off license shops and take-away restaurants that stay open late.

5. I took this photo for my mother who loves the London buses.  To her they mean freedom. She can go anywhere she wants safely and comfortably unlike her experience of riding on buses in Sao Paulo.

6. This photo was taken by a friend who is a photographer and loves trees.  With film photographs we don’t know what to expect, so a bit of his finger came out on it.  If he was using a digital camera, he would have taken several photographs of the same tree, but here he only had one shot.

7. A friend took a photo of the Rochester Castle because he likes the weatherperson's pubs for their convenience, nonjudgmental atmosphere and affordable food and drinks.

8. To my friend, this image represents London.  She loves riding her bike and is amazed at the fact that even though London is such a big city, it is still possible to carry a child on the back of a bike.   At the weekends, she loves going to the pub for lunch with her friends and their kids and finds this a very typical London activity.  In her country, bars and restaurants are separate and families tend to take children to restaurants rather than bars.

9. The camera used to take the photographs.

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Blog Post: Empathizing with Londoners and reflecting on Smart City

In the lecture we were given a probe pack. Ours contained post it notes, play dough and a disposable camera.  The group didn’t wish to use it, so I had the idea to experiment by asking people to take one shot of something which represented them in the city.   I wanted to see what I could capture beyond the developed photographs.  

Nowadays one can make the argument that the quality and high definition of digital photos are as important as the message that they portray.  Digital photography is certainly more disposable and a lot more accessible.  In the past, amateur photographs were meaningful for the faces, events and places they marked and more about memory than aesthetics and perfection. 

The images captured through the disposable camera remind me of the ones I have repeatedly seen at my granny’s home, which brought so much joy and laughter, every time we gathered together with a cup of coffee to relive the past. The images that did not come out well are also a reminder of those moments as even images that didn’t develop well held a memory in the mind of the person who took them.   

At this stage in the project we are still investigating what is important to people living in this city.  Through these images, and the conversations I had with the people who took them, I have created a narrative.   There may be more than one possible narrative here, and surely not everyone in London feels the same way about being here.  What I see through these images tend to repeat itself to me over and over for the 20 years I’ve lived here. 

The photographs of a pub, a tree, a bus, inside of the pub, of a man, of the street with cars and shops together made me reflect on the reasons that many of us are attracted to London.  The people I normally interact with are from different parts of the world and came here mainly to experience the lifestyle, diversity, music and the opportunity to meet people from all over the world.  They appreciate the convenience of having bars, shops and pubs around the corner, a reliable and 24-hours public transport system and many parks, which they go to relax, exercise, socialise and connect with nature.  They enjoy living here because London allows people to feel free to be whoever they want to be.   It is possible to walk into a pub anonymously and with or without money be able to sit down, use the bathroom and have a refreshing drink before continuing on our journeys or choose to spend a whole evening eating and drinking lavishly and walk home completely inebriated.  The same feeling is felt at parks, where anyone can lie down on the grass to take a nap or have a picnic. No one will question, no one will mind.  

What if the city was non-judgmental? People would feel free...

Londoners feel free...

“When we look at photographs, we don't just look at them passively; we search for meaning and message, even if we are not consciously aware of doing so. In this way, you could argue that we read images as we would a piece of writing, trying to discover the meaning and the message behind it. At its simplest, the message could be that the photographer decided the scene was worth recording. At its most complex, an image can provoke problematic and ambiguous relationships between the reader and the image.” 

By Isabela Lea https://intrepidexposures.com/photo-inspiration/how-do-we-read-a-photograph/

Anonymity is a theme that also comes to mind when reflecting on life in cities.  Initiatives such as those employed by Smart City planners for gathering data to improve life in the city have a responsibility of maintaining people’s anonymity, which is one of the reasons why we live in them and one that Londoners hold very dear. 

I can’t help but wonder the consequences of the surveillance aspect of smart cities that on one side aims to improve efficiency and sustainability while reducing costs and resource consumption, but on the other it constantly monitors its citizens through strategically placed sensors to collect data regarding many different aspects of urban living. 

We know that the data that is aggregated is analysed by governments and local authorities is aimed at helping  with crime, traffic management, energy use and waste reduction, but at what cost?

Imagine if behind every set of eyes there was another seeing through what we see, what we do, and who we are, even more than there is already. Would our priorities change? What would become more important to have or to preserve?