#that poor photographer in the background had no idea he could be making $$$$$ with those photos...tragically he probably deleted them

[il-predestinato]

The race steward has a word with Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc at their first race together since the infamous "inchident" at Val d'Argenton one month earlier.

Max Verstappen & Charles Leclerc | WSK Euro Series KF2 | Wackersdorf 2012 🎥: [x] (June 8-10, 2012)

(Max: *nods his understanding, shakes the steward's hand* 🫤 ... meanwhile, Charles: *I refuse to even look at him* 😠)

[sirfrogsworth]

Adventures in Cooling

The 5-star rated HVAC repair service I used kind of depressed me.

It was almost... too good?

Like, they offer 24/7 service. They have a text message system that lets you know when the tech is coming. Every tech has their own custom van that serves as a giant advertisement. The entire process is documented with a tablet computer. Every serial number and model number must be photographed. He has to follow a diagnostic checklist. And an upsell checklist. And a repair checklist. He had so many checklists that at one point he pulled a card out of his wallet to make sure he didn't forget one of the steps. He had a poorly memorized speech for every upsell. You could tell he didn't have "his" tools, but the company's tools that he borrowed.

None of this was "bad" as far as a workflow. The service was flawless and nothing was forgotten. But you could tell that every detail was micromanaged and if the tech didn't follow the procedures to the letter, he would probably get some kind of demerit.

I felt sorry for my tech. He was in his 60s and clearly had a severe chronic knee injury. He walked slower than I do. He was quite monosyllabic and difficult to make conversation with. Not unpleasant, just not great at communicating.

At one point I asked him if I was a good candidate for a heat pump and he was like, "Everyone is."

End of advice.

Oh, and the uniform.

The uniform was very silly.

Every square inch of his shirt was meant to assure people they have a qualified technician. The one sleeve listed his certifications from some Alphabet Association that certifies such things. And then the other sleeve made sure to let me know my technician was drug tested and background checked.

The entire visit I kept trying to imagine how being stoned might negatively affect HVAC repair. I mean, if he was on a little cocaine perhaps we could have wrapped things up 30 minutes sooner. Marijuana might have helped him communicate. Opioids could make his knee feel better. I don't think shrooms would have been a good idea. If he hallucinated an angry fan monster in my A/C unit that could have been really awkward.

He was a terrible salesman—but for some reason, I fell for every upsell. Actually, I sold all of the upsells to myself in my head. I got a new filter and had him install it because I worried I would forget or I would install it improperly (not really possible, you just stick it in). But for the price I paid I could have bought 6 years worth of filters.

I just wanted everything sorted. I am so stressed and do not have the bandwidth to deal with A/C troubles. So I just said "yes" to everything. But the price kept inflating as we went along and every time it inflated he required a signature on his tablet.

This repair business had been corporatized to death and it made me miss all of my dad's friends from the old days who he would ask for favors. He always "knew a guy." He would trade car repairs for discounts on things we needed around the house. And they all worked for themselves and had their own tools and their own shitty truck and they all said, "There's your problem!" with the same masculine affect.

Their uniform was a flannel shirt and jeans and I bet some of them were high as fuck.

And this elderly gentlemen with the bum knee kept checking his checklist to make sure he checked every check because he feared managerial discipline.

He got to the sales pitch for the fluorescent dye. He was like, "Do you want this? You don't have to buy it." And I started selling it to myself in my head despite his assurance it wasn't really necessary. I worried if I had a big leak and I don't discover it until the middle of July, I would regret saying no in this moment. But then I realized he hated the dye injection process. And his poor salesmanship was mostly him not wanting his hands to be fucking radioactive yellow for the rest of the day. He tried wearing gloves to avoid it, but he still ended up with yellow hands and grumbled, "I really hate this stuff." Which was one of the few unrehearsed things he said to me the entire time.

Once the checklist was complete and the house was already starting to cool, he had one final sales pitch for me. He asked that I give his company a 5-star review and to make sure I mention his name. He told me that in July all of the techs with the most 5-star reviews will have their names put in a hat. And "the boss" will give one lucky employee a free vacation.

This vacation thing sounded like such a manipulation. And I'm sure "the boss" has instructed his techs to tell this tale of the free vacation so customers will be like, "Well, shit. I don't want this poor old guy with the shitty knee to miss out on that."

And it was then I realized just how this company got so many 5-star reviews.

Diabolical.

But the good news... my house is cold as heck.

And I keep shivering because I can't figure out the perfect setting on my thermostat. I guess I was used to the inefficiency and I will have to recalibrate.

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s4 episode 4 thoughts

woohoo!! it feels, again, like our separation has been so long, but it has been about… 3 whole days. oh, how i miss the earlier months in which i had time to post episode thoughts every day… 

this episode sounds interesting!!! no idea how someone’s thoughts could be captured on film, but we do a lot of disbelief suspension around these parts, with varying levels of success.

wait. hold on. i just saw the description for the episode after this one. what the hell is mulder getting himself into with that. do we need more mulder ex lore? i don’t need that. it doesn’t make me feel warm and fuzzy inside. 

putting aside my many questions on that matter to focus on what is here in front of us.

(author’s note post-episode: …. woaghhh. scully…)

in all honesty, having processed my thoughts, i think this one was just a LITTLE bit too intense for me. which i recognize is okay, and to each their own. but i need to speak my Truth.

liveblogging commences below 

we begin with this sketchy looking dude, who is being rude as hell to a woman putting on lipstick before getting a passport photo taken. god forbid a woman want to serve… then he says to act natural while not acting natural himself. HYPOCRITE!

she goes in for a passport photo and…. she left her money in the car! she must return to this unfortunate man and go get it. but someone is following her…. 

he did something to her… and she gets back to the car to “billy”, but someone did something to him, too!! he appears to be dead and bleeding from the ear!! then she falls to the ground and tries to crawl to safety, but the mystery man in the yellow rain jacket comes back for her…. 

and the man in the photo store looks at the passport photos, but despite taking just a standard headshot, he sees the woman’s dying face in the images!!

oh. that is an unpleasant day on the job for such a nice seeming man.

this intro always makes me laugh... i’m sorrrrryyy the ufo pictures just remind me that this show is fundamentally unserious 

scully and mulder are rolling up to a town in michigan, while he asks her for any thoughts on the case. it appears this woman was abducted three days ago. and billy was punctured in the brain. yuck.

okay, so her name is mary. and this poor pharmacist…. he has to take people’s pictures, and give them drugs, AND deal with this nonsense 

they are at the pharmacy where the “druggist” (they keep using that term which i have never heard before) is showing them his camera, which he keeps under lock and key, and i notice he has some fun candy in the background. but i assume things are not fun at this time for him. 

scully wants to see the camera, and mulder takes a step back to let her pass. it kinda looks like he does that thing where he touches her back, but it’s hard to tell. and once again for all readers, that thing where men touch your back is only attractive when it’s mulder to scully and not between some randos!

scully notices something on the pharmacist’s foot, and also that the film is out of date. she is always noticing things. one of her many lovely qualities. 

mulder calls the pharmacist “bruno hauptman” and i don’t get that reference so i do what i do best: go to wikipedia. oh! bruno is the guy that was executed for kidnapping the lindbergh baby. i don’t know why i thought that mystery was unsolved. i guess it’s because the article is saying it was a heavily criticized and debated case. huh, a mystery for another time.

anyway, mulder is saying this all tauntingly with his stupid beautiful mulder smile, but scully is saying yeah, this nice old pharmacist doesn’t look like a usual suspect.

but she does point out that the film has heat damage, and a heater is right there… “so you think that would make it look like she posed screaming for a passport photo?” <- LMAO MAN LET HER FINISH

BAHAHA she is onto nothing 🔥🔥 

“plus, the film is two years out of date” “oh” the- the photographic chemistry could have changed” (mulder nodding) “uh-huh” “the- the dyes fade… they… alright, what’s your theory?” <- BAHAHA love that… you have to admit when you don’t know wtf is going on! i had full confidence she would pull something out of her science-y brain, but sometimes you just don’t know!

(this stupid scene had me giggling, as did her face of resignation)

mulder seems to ALSO have no idea wtf is going on, but as they discuss this, a police officer walks in and says they might have wasted the agents’ time…. what does that mean? did they figure it out that quick?

back at the house of the victims, they meet a postal inspector. okay!!! that’s fun and different. and i pause to write this down, and scully is SO beautiful, i actually might blow up. a full on explosion where once stood me is liable to go down. oh my gooooood.

okay: postal inspector is investigating a mail theft. mary had been working at the postal office, stealing people’s credit cards, and her boyfriend was signing them! oh! very illegal. inspector seems to think she faked her disappearance, but mulder points out that would not explain the stabbing of the boyfriend. also, they have this creepy ass broccoli magnet on their fridge which. bleugh. it did not spark joy.

mulder wants a camera from their house, and he finds one! did he just. take a picture of scully…? oh my god. he said “stand back, scully, it’s loaded” and took one… he didn’t even let her pose or anything… that's so cute... even if it's a little weird to use a dead person's camera from a crime scene... he wanted to take her picture

no, i am all wrong, for it appears he is just… taking random photos. because someone in the 60’s once claimed that he could concentrate really hard on undeveloped film and show his thoughts. uh. press f to doubt.

(man, i want to live in that very brief and exciting moment where i thought he was taking a cute little candid of her again… it was so blissful there)

wait. what da hell. he just clicked the camera a bunch of times and it comes up with the screaming mary photo again and again.

oh… he thinks that someone was stalking mary, and the stalker’s psychic energy altered the film by him coming in its proximity. i didn't realize that was how psychic powers worked but i am listening and learning

scully says that these images had to be doctored, which is, again, a reasonable conclusion, but he asks her to “what if” the situation and just think about it!!! just imagine!!!

cutscene to… someone crawling on the side of the road. it’s mary!!! she’s bleeding from her eyes (?) and not responding at all to the police car arriving behind her.

now she is in a stretcher at the hospital that our agents are helping to steer. they are kind like that. she had a “painkiller cocktail” in her system, but that wouldn’t account for her condition. scully orders a PET scan for her, a term i have never heard before. i love when she uses terms i have never heard before.

they’re putting mary in what looks like an MRI sort of thing to look at her brain. whatever it is, it is clearly very bad, as told by scully’s visible reaction and audible declaration of “oh my god”, while mulder looks at her and asks “what is it”? 

(and while i appreciate that this is a sensitive moment for our story, mulder not knowing wtf is going on with these medical things always is a favorite trope of mine, 1. because me too, and 2. he is usually such an insufferable know-it-all i love watching him admit when he knows nothing. humility!)

oh my god… “she has been given what’s called a transorbital lobotomy” <- oh that does NOT sound good… it used to be known as an ice pick lobotomy!!! oh my gosh i’ve heard of that one!! ice pick… eye sockets… i can feel myself growing faint…

but whoever did it, did it wrong… who would do a lobotomy without knowing how to do it the right way???

in the machine, mary is mumbling!! she is saying “unruhe” according to the closed captioning, but it just sounds like faint groaning to me. however, given that this phrase is the title of the episode, i venture to guess that it IS in fact relevant.

a policeman bursts in and says there has been a second abduction, and our agents look deeply sorrowful at this news, seeming to know what will happen next if they cannot crack the case.

oh! now we are seeing the new victim, and whoever took her is in fact saying “unruhe”, and other stuff in german! NO! he pulls out a pick…. fade to black. 

WHO in this small seeming town speaks german and has a psychic effect on cameras… ?? i hope this can be narrowed down to a slim pool of candidates!!

scully is going into the next crime scene, where mulder reports that a man has been murdered, and his secretary alice taken. this is not good.

mulder has been looking into what that word alice was mumbling means- first in a phone book, but then as a translation, i guess, because it means “trouble” in german.

WOAH, WHAT?

! SCULLY LORE REVEAL ! she took german in college!!! and knows that the word is more accurately translated as “unrest”! 

(oh my gosh, i need to get back into compiling lore reveals at the end of each season like i did for s1…. good thing i take such detailed notes so i can go back and do them for s2 and s3)

((we didn’t get a ton in the last 2 seasons, so i thought of doing one post for both seasons- but the organization freak in me wants to do 1 per season, so i’ll go through them again and see what i can find when i get bored someday))

scully hands him a photo from the first crime scene, but mulder says the criminal wasn’t there, because if he was, he would have altered the photos. scully seems annoyed that he’s looking for psychic photos and not crime scene evidence, but he explains that whoever did this has to be very good, and photos may be their only lead since he doesn’t seem to know he is doing it. but then scully sees something and her eyes go SUPER wide… and she says she wants to show him something. 

oh! they find a construction company’s logo at both sites. so maybe the criminal worked at places under construction and was able to kidnap the women…? this theory is brought to you by scully.

he says she might be right, but he is going back to DC to get analysis on the photo. she still is skeptical, but he says that since the woman’s time is running out, that’s all the more reason to analyze the one piece of hard evidence they do have, and that he’ll be in touch. 

he must have really cared if he said he’ll be in touch, because usually he just runs off to god knows where to do god knows what. 

(and how much time would they even HAVE if he has to drive all the way back??? that isn’t a quick trip, is it???)

the same criminal dude from before is now saying stuff in german and taping alice’s mouth shut, while mulder is back in the photo lab sitting practically on top of this nerdy yet attractive fellow, asking for the blurriness in the image to be reduced. and it reveals very scary looking demon things! 

mulder sees someone in the back of the photo… and they get a more enhanced image on the face, but it isn’t clear to me who it is. i felt like i was supposed to know who it was, but luckily i wasn't!

scully is ordering people out to canvas and investigate the employees who may have been working at both construction sites. i like when she does that.

mulder and the lab guy figure out that there is a shadow in the background of the photo from the kidnapper. “he’s standing over her, he means to pass judgement on her, like a god” <- an unsettling thing to say, mr. spooky

scully rolls up to one of the construction sites and i’m thinking, oh please, do not get kidnapped, please please, it’s not something we need today. she’s yelling “hello” and no one is answering... but she hears something….. 

it’s a… guy on stilts? it’s the foreman named gerry. oh… could he have made the big shadow in the picture his stilts? but he doesn’t sound german…

mulder calls and says the kidnapper’s legs are unusual, either he’s very tall or he wants to be. stilts man?!?! is it you?!

instead of playing it chill upon hearing this news, she hangs up on mulder, and turns to gerry and says “unruhe”, pulling out her gun. but he uses his stilts to jump across the building! only to collapse and fall. his getaway is thwarted as scully tells him to stop or she’ll shoot, and to prove her seriousness, she does so. but i’m not buying he’s the guy!! sorry my queen!!

NO!! I WAS FOOLED, WASN’T I??? she reaches into his pocket and pricks her finger!!! NOOO! it’s a huge pick in there! like we saw before at the kidnapping!!

is she gonna be drugged from that….

(thankfully, the pick itself did not contain the drugs)

they’re interrogating the dude, and he denies everything. i mean, i guess a lot of people could have stilts and a pick at construction sites. maybe they didn't grab the right fellow.

he says that tool is used to start keyholes in the sheetrock and all fixtures. a good excuse…

but he really does seem confused. 

however, mulder brings up that gerry was arrested before, for attacking his father with an axe handle until he spent the rest of his life in a wheelchair. OH! this is not promising.

gerry says that he was institutionalized, which mulder reveals was for a schizophrenic disorder. gerry claims that since his release, he had been taking care of his father 24/7, until he passed away in january. well i’m not entirely sure if that makes amends, but i guess it’s better than nothing?

“and how did you feel about that?” asks mulder about gerry's father's death, sounding very much like the psychology expert i sometimes forget that he is. then he reveals that the same year gerry attacked his father, gerry’s sister passed. connected….?

gerry is staring intently back at scully, saying that she looks troubled. oh! do not talk to her that way.

then mulder comes in with the enhanced photo from earlier, and asks if it shows gerry’s father. he seems taken aback, like it really is his father, and then further taken aback when he pulls out the full photo and asks if those demons figures are what he sees when he closes his eyes. this finally gets gerry to crack and say that he knows where alice is, and that she is safe, “from the howlers”. HUH? 

(is it bad my thoughts went straight to a howler monkey when he said that? i was thinking man, monkeys do not look like that at all. you and i have seen some different monkeys, gerry. but no, he does not refer to those types of howlers)

a ton of cop cars are arriving in the woods, to find alice, who is bleeding from the eyes, which can only mean one thing in this context. oh noooo. scully seems horrified and as if she is blaming herself 

oh, we get a very charged exchange here. she says it doesn’t matter what is in the photos, or if it shows gerry’s dreams or nightmares, because it’s over, and they couldn’t save alice. she starts the engine, and when i think she’s gonna drive off without mulder, he hops in. i bet that guilt that doctors feel when that cannot save a patient is even worse in her than in usual doctors, because she also has to deal with trying to rescue people from crime. :(

gerry is being taken in and photographed by the cops. but instead of a mugshot, when we see the picture, it’s the guy who was taking him in with a bullet hole in his head. oh! so that seems to confirm earlier suspicions on behalf of mulder. 

OH NO!! gerry reaches out and grabs the gun from the cop! NOOO! 

mulder points out that the image from that interaction showed the man shot in the head, but in reality, he was shot in his throat. so i guess it’s not based on reality as much as his intentions? sure, why not. and scully says there was a robbery at the pharmacy back where the very first photo was taken. no! our druggist friend!

gerry took all of the film in the store and a ton of drugs for more “twilight sleep”, which is a bad sign. i think i’ve seen this film before…

scully thinks that perhaps he was stalking his next victim at the construction site, and i’m thinking, girl i think he picked out his victim alright, but i don’t think she’s in the apartments.

mulder wants to wait a bit for his photo to come out. so he sends her to pull the car around and i’m screaming NO, NO, DON’T SEPARATE, NOT WITH A GUY ON THE LOOSE WHO LOOKED AT HER AND SAID “YOU LOOK TROUBLED” AFTER DOING 2 DIY LOBOTOMIES ON OTHER WOMEN AND KILLING 2 OTHER MEN! JUST WAIT A MINUTE AND WALK TO THE CAR TOGETHER!!!

but she cannot hear me….

NO! as she unlocks the car, a hand from beneath reaches out and pierces her foot with a needle NOOOO… and it’s gerry and she’s going down and NOOOOOO!!!!

AND MULDER PULLS THE PHOTO OUT TO FIND GERRY WAS THINKING OF SCULLY WHEN IT WAS TAKEN!

he is RUNNING after that car. despite his best efforts, even trackstar mulder is not as fast as a car, yet he follows her and screams her name regardless. until he realizes he will not win this race.

back at the police office, mulder is STARING at that photograph, the one showing scully being taken by these horrific creatures known as “the howlers”. he’s asking for any leads, including “does he have a summer house? a winter house?” which could be seen as desperation for answers or mulder being out of touch with how many people grew up with summer houses, take your pick.

OH! in gerry’s wallet was his father’s obituary. and his father was a dentist… and the name sounds german… 

so they go to his old dentist’s office, where they did an ad for the pain medicine cocktail he’s been cooking up. and mulder finds a footprint and a missing dentist’s chair. 

NO!! scully is in the dentist’s chair at some undisclosed location. waking up to find her arms and legs bound with a pick on the table and gerry in the distance. she’s watching him…. and she says to let her go. 

he begins his german ranting that has happened before the other lobotomies, and she… RESPONDS???? in clumsy german??? she says she has no unrest and doesn’t need saving, but he insists she does??? WHAT!!!

good on her for remembering some words after all those years :,)

he says everyone has some unrest, but especially her. she thinks she must remind him of his sister, and they talk about “the howlers”, who live inside your head, and make you say and do things you don’t mean.

so she turns the tables on this, and says maybe there are no such thing as howlers, and maybe he made them up to justify what his father did to his sister, which sets him off further. OH… so she thinks gerry attacking his father and his sister’s death were related. damn… that’s heavy

she tries to convince him that the “howlers” are just in HIS head, and no one else’s, as he approaches with a camera to try and prove they do exist. because cameras cannot lie!!

back at the dentist’s office, mulder appears to be losing it. mumbling about the 6 fingers the howler had in the photos, and yelling “WHY are there 6?” to no one in particular, as if he can find an answer through sheer willpower. one of the cops is asking him what to do while he looks at the obituary and counts five headstones…. and the father makes 6? sure, if that makes sense to you king!

they’re off to the graveyard while scully is still in a mystery location, with tears in her eyes as gerry shows her the photos he took. he takes the photos to mean he doesn’t have much time left, and tapes her mouth… and oh my gosh, i think of what would go down here if i knew she wasn’t gonna pull through… until gerry hears a tapping and MULDER IS LOOKING IN!! YES!!!

gerry is doing this in a camper van! by the graveyard!!! mulder is peeking in, sees a tooth keychain, and realizes she’s in there!!!! he’s yelling her name, and she’s yelling that she’s in here, while gerry tries to hold her down!!!

mulder’s BEATING on the window of the camper with his hands, and when that doesn’t work, he finds a giant metal pipe and SLAMS it into the window, goes in, and shoots gerry. this escalated quickly, but it was almost not quick enough.

mulder asks if she’s hurt, and neither of them say anything as she walks out, with mulder kneeling down to see that the last photos gerry had taken were of himself dead on the floor. it’s a terribly thick tension that reminds me of the ending to irresistible, but without the tension bursting like it did in that episode with her finally revealing her fear to him. i wish that she did it again this time. 

scully is doing the episode wrap up, sounding terribly solemn. she is reporting that gerry had written a diary intended as a letter for his father, including the list of the women he hoped to “save”. and her name is the last entry. she has no explanation for the photographs. but she empathized with him, which her survival depended upon.

“i see now the value of such insight. for truly to pursue monsters, we must understand them. we must venture into their minds. only in doing so, do we risk letting them venture into ours?” (said while there are tears in her eyes, as she looks at the photograph of her being pulled by the howlers)

WHAT THE HELL.

okay, so chris carter… you and i need to have some words. 

i have a lot of thoughts. perhaps number one: what if mulder had been 5 minutes later… can you imagine him never being able to cope with that….? oh my gosh. oh my gosh. no, i shan’t imagine. but i’m sure they both were imagining it. and that is probably why she couldn’t say anything as she walked out of the camper van. it was too horrific.

second. this was a dark one. i was giggling at first and then it got really dark. lobotomies… are a hard subject.

third. when the writers make the bad guy have a mental illness, i do feel it to be insulting, because we don’t often get a character where a guy with schizophrenia is just a guy doing normal things like working at the store or going to get his oil changed. no, he’s gotta be up to something nefarious. i wish that wasn’t the case and that these episodes didn’t use mental illness in that way, and i understand that things were kind of Like That in the 90’s and arguably still are in media, but it has been observed with distaste. 

okay, final thoughts? like i’ve said before, i believe in gender equality when it comes to kidnapping and rescuing, and i hope that will be evened out at some point. i understand that gerry had a fixation on women for his own personal reasons, but that’s the doyleist vs watsonian debate thing. and i want a 1:1 ratio on who goes about saving the day. although the ratio was uneven in s2, i’m not recalling the ratio from s3, and we’re 4 episodes into s4 with a 1:1 ratio. so i hope that overall, the entire series ratio evens out eventually. damsel in distress is gender neutral

i was actually really invested in this episode, probably because it let us look into scully deeper, and also because the stakes were high, the pacing fast, and the horror a new kind rather than a standard serial killer we get in a lot of episodes. 

but… while i appreciate that, i’m not sure i can say i enjoyed it, you know? because even a “scully speaks german” lore reveal cannot save me from the feeling of… something adjacent to fear? not horror as in “ahhh i’m so scared” but maybe a sort of horror as in “stop putting her into these fuckass situations, let my girl have a day off” and also a bit of terrible grief in knowing that lobotomies were a very real thing and did untold harm. and to be clear, i’m not saying that fact shouldn’t be explored and discussed, i just think that for me it seems to provoke some intense feelings that make me want some fluff. now. 

deliver it. to my door. as we speak. in fact, here is an incomplete list of things i want to read our agents doing in fanfiction form:

apple picking and apple cider sipping, hiking and sharing weird facts they know about the things they encounter (scully will be all “this type of spider has a unique silk production gland” and he’ll be all “this type of wildflower is used to induce hallucinogenic states” while they look at a pretty view), ice skating (can they ice skate? need to explore that), getting ice cream cones, a visit to the beach, decorating for various holidays, a very serious game night- perhaps uno or some sort of trivia where it turns into a real nerd-off, arguing over unsolved mysteries, more implications of them starting a family together if you feel bold and brave, even, but for those who like it more reserved we can just have an aquarium date, watching a meteor shower, scully attempting to understand his fascination with the various sports of the world by tagging along on an anthropological expedition to a knicks game with him, baking, movie theater trip, etc

well! i have gotten myself so enthused at the idea of them doing silly stuff like handing out halloween candy that i have forgotten all about my initial feelings, which shall surely resurface soon when i go through and edit my notes, but you’re gonna sit there and tell me you don’t want to play dolls in your head of them getting hot chocolate together? 

canon? what is canon? c’mere, kid. let’s daydream about them eloping without ever having the “what are we” conversation and ignore the suffering 

[laithraihan]

Hey I really love your art - I wanted to ask if you use references from anywhere specific.

Also, have you considered the idea of Reigan becoming Minori's Guardian Ad Litem? I agree that Reigans not exactly the kind of person to make the most responsible father (at least where we leave him in the show) but I could totally imagine him becoming her guardian for some legal reason.

He's really the only adult she'd know to trust outside her father.

I can imagine they're put a whole court case together with Reigan as her guardian just for legal reasons and they win, and then Minori's like. "Oh shit where do I go? Guess your my guardian for real now." And Reigan is like.

What?

Thank you 🫶💜 hmm well for pose references including clothing etc I just get them from google stock images, I generally try to avoid making the pose too similar to the images I see so I sometimes draw in different angles (honestly most of the time I struggle looking up references because I cant find a picture in a specific angle I want, so I go with my intuition even if it's wrong), honestly google is probably the place I rely on the most for this. Like if I forget what a shoe looks like then I'll just google it.

If you're talking about where I got inspiration for my art style (or what I look to get ideas for my art etc) I'd say the major ones for me are ONE's sketches on twitter (especially his shaky lineart and how he draws eyes), early episodes of Detective Conan (clothing folds, color choices sometimes, body proportions like the chest being pointed etc), Revolutionary Girl Utena (also clothing and body proportions), FLCL (I have no idea what parts of it influenced my art but I feel like it's an obligation to list it here)

Uhh for the fun drawings that require more effort I'd say music is inevitably the most important part of it. 99% of the time my drawings that arent plain sketches are modeled after a specific song I listen to (primarily from ZARD but other artists too although not as often) even then I think my sketches are still influenced by ZARD somehow. Wait I completely forgot to mention I also look up images of ZARD on Pinterest for poses or just... to draw anything honestly. Theres a good number of pictures of her in various angles (I remember one of her photographers said she was very photogenic so most of her pictures are very casual as if a camera wasn't present) I think it's good to look at them if you are looking for something natural. Just looking up "Izumi Sakai" there will give you results.

For text placement/colors/vibe/whatever I like to look at old media I grew up with like MADs, shitty websites made in the 90s/2000s, old anime subtitled in Arabic (I have plenty of DVDs with anime dubbed/subbed in Arabic that I have no idea where we got them from, I assume it's all pirated. Anime openings/endings in Arabic also have very poor aesthetics when it comes to logo placement/text color/text animation/etc but that's exactly why I like them) I also have a Pinterest board with outdated ZARD edits that I look at often while drawing. For image textures or backgrounds I use this website. If I struggle with art block or don't know how to draw a specific thing I also look at everything I previously listed and reference from there. Anyways I talked a Lot but hopefully I could help with that.

As for Reigen being a guardian .... I never considered it seriously but I think he could pull it off. He'll definitely make mistakes but he could succeed if he had a daughter. I just have to kill off Minori's real dad or something and it'll work. The only problem would be that Minori has to live with the fact that her new father is broke and unable to spend thousands of dollars for her every week.

[royallymagpied]

It is between you and me

Submitted into Contest #75 in response to: Write about someone whose job is to help people leave their old lives behind.

How does it feel to be the never-ending flavor of the month, to be on top every year? To be everyone`s dark shameful secret, promising not just pleasure but possibilities; to linger, to echo, to land on somebody`s moist lips jumping to an eager ear, worm inside and curl, purring, in the trembling jelly of a brain, growing into a tumor of a thought there, a thought evolving into desire? My secret is that the very essence of me crawls under your skin and makes its nest around your beating heart poisoning it with stinging snake kisses. I make all of you my home, my castle, my fortress, my birth place and my dying bed. I turn you into a tomb bearing me inside forever.

Some falsely claim that they have discovered my true identity of a spider and though the idea of me having those funny hairy paws with claws is ridiculously amusing, it is entirely wrong. I strangle you gently with my silky threads but you are not a victim trapped by my greed, you are an active and willing participant joining me in my little games. Rejoice, brothers and sisters, for I am not an enemy, I am your loving savior. 

When I was a boy, I found lots of pleasure in imitating others, forging and lying. Poor souls, how little they knew, subjecting my ink-stained fingers to a punishment with a crooked ruler. Did you really think I was afraid of pain and could surrender to its burn? Could you weed out all the venomous twigs and recreate the garden of Eden? I shape shifted, I slipped through your fingers like hot Moroccan sand, leaving just a hint of exotic scents. You could not tame your poor, ordinary children, how could you tame the devil? The creature hiding in plain sight? 

The creature, the devil, and finally God. The promise is given, the lips are sealed. 

God. 

What is God for? God is the one who listens to prayers and answers them. I always answer, I’m not picky. I inhabit neither churches, nor cathedrals. I live on the receiving end of a phone call, one business card and a few beeps away. Is that my voice? Have you ever heard God? Then why are you asking? A secretary will take your details and full payment - non refundable, I am sorry, but this is the rule. I do not care about the vulgar economics, it is merely a question of dignity. Besides, people give more value and attention to things they had to pay a lot for and I respect myself and my time.

So I guess you are wondering what is that thing that I do so gracefully? It is a funny thing to ask God, but I will tell you. I am the one who can drag you out of the colorless dullness of your insignificant life and give you another chance. Yes, this is magic, but I can do it. No need to try to follow, you can not make fire lick your hands with tenderness and the ocean to rock you to sleep safely.

Some time ago I had a rich client. To be frank with you, I would never shake his hand, I would never stoop so low. He was a disgusting, greedy piece of highly unprofessional work. So he came to me, ready to kneel and crawl, and kiss my feet. A famous actor, he killed his young lover. A total accident, of course. He wanted to fake his death and start a new life in South America where he could go on sinning free from any legal consequences. It is tough to be God so I had to agree. It took me some time to arrange his alibi, to have photographs doctored, bank statements falsified. It amazes me how much people love money. Give them enough and they will sell themselves out to the very last cell of their bodies. So I had my client networking at parties all over the world and later going to an Italian villa which burned down one night. Nobody survived. A total accident, of course. Oh, what a fire that was! A burning torch amongst the tall cypresses`, dark silhouettes against the raging fiery background. A few more crisp bank notes and a few pennies and I had the forensic papers falsified as well. I even went to his funeral and brought some white tulips - a nice subtle touch as white tulips mean rebirth. I went incognito, as you could guess. I do not like fuss. Some cash and a few hours with the best plastic surgeon paved the way to a private jet for my client and I, being my modest self, treated myself to a nice dinner at the Ritz and some nice expensive Pinot Noir. We live once, after all. 

But even God gets questioned. Just as I was working on my next case, that man came again. The one who cheated on me and called my eyes the black windows of a dead house. The one who thought I was the deadly stillness of a white forest, its killing beauty, its poisonous lullaby. 

"I know it’s your work, you promised." 

Oh, people. "To die, to sleep…" Don’t confuse death with sleep. In death you lose yourself, giving in to the endless ocean of space. Sleep is still you, your brain sending electric impulses through the body, questioning the existence of your soul, rebelling, arguing. Death is absolute, death is disintegration. I am above that. I do not play by the book. 

"Stop it, you promised."

I have a modern Blue Beard, another rich creature, this time an American. He marries rich women, gaslights and humiliates them, casting a merciful blessing of death upon their exhausted souls in the end. He is looking for a new bride and a way to get rid of the old one, deformed by numerous plastic surgeries done to appease his insatiable appetites. An appalling type. No poetry, no beauty. A butcher. He says he loves them. Every single one is the greatest wonder. My man loved me as well. He told me so but he lied. He left me. Does it equal me with those poor ladies pumped with silicone longing for love, waiting for the knight in shining armor?..

Love is overrated. It`s just words, pulling the strings of overworked hearts loaded with cholesterin aimed for selling soapy novels to make some graphomaniacs rich. I need a stand in, a bait to hook up with my Blue Beard but this time I am going to hit the last nail in my lover`s coffin, to alter his life forever. I will send him a message – "Marry me" carved deeply into my client`s chest.

"Life is whatever happens between you and me."

[miraculous-magicalconnections]

MMC: Arc 1, Chapter 5: Hansha

"Nadja!" The woman startles, turning to the open window to see none other than one of Paris' protectors themselves climbing through, "Glad I caught you before the news started, I need to make an announcement."

"Uh, sure!" Nadja says, completely shocked by her presence.

-----

"It's gonna be alright Jules, promise!" Despite her girlfriend's words, Juleka still couldn't help the nerves that shot through her at the mere idea of taking the photo.

"Hey, uh, if it helps," Juleka turned, a redhead standing not too far from them, "I'm also not the biggest fan of photos."

"It's not that!" Rose says, "Juleka has a curse!"

"A... curse?" The redhead repeats, "I probably would've said that sounds bizarre but after the whole reveal of superheroes and villains, I can't say it'd surprise me."

Juleka hugs themself, glancing away as Rose continued, "Juleka's photos always go wrong. Look, this was just yesterday!"

Rose showed them a picture, and Juleka knew what it was. Yesterday they tried to take a selfie at the park and a pigeon flew right in front of their face. Their photos always went wrong, and for once they just wanted this one to go right. They'd have prom to look forward to, and the sooner they broke this stupid curse, the better.

"Well, I might be able to help." They offer, "I'll help you be in the center of the photo, that way nothing bad can happen."

Rose gasped, "It's perfect! Thank you so much, uh."

"Nathaniel." They supply, holding out a hand.

"Rose!" Rose greets, shaking their hand, "She/her today."

"Today? Oh uh, he/him. Always."

Juleka couldn't help the small chuckle she let out, "Juleka, she/they."

"Come on," One of their classmates say, "We're up."

Juleka really hoped this went well.

-----

"Get out of my way!" Chloé says, trying to push Marinette with her shoulder.

"Stop being a nuisance and go to your spot!" Marinette says, "It's not my fault you're in the back!"

"I need to be in the center, Fashion Fad, move!"

If you had asked Marinette yesterday if staying up all night to catch Nadja before she began her news segment, she'd have said it was the only way to get the information out about herself, Chat Noir, and Monarque. But right now? Marinette would have rather had some sleep to deal with Chloé's nonsense.

"Girls, enough!" The photographer, Vincent, says, "Move back to your spot or you will not be in the photo at all!"

Chloé huffed but followed his directions.

-----

Juleka hated this. It's decided, she needed to throw herself into the seine and let herself sink to the bottom. Being in the center, she quickly realized, was the worst idea possible. She would be the person everyone laid their eyes on, and while sure it would break her curse, was it really worth this?

They could barely hear, barely think, their mind was racing as they tried to calm themself down. As they take a breath, someone pushes them and the flash goes off. After a moment, the photographer complains about her not being in the center.

Snickers fill her ears and suddenly she can't breathe, like she's drowning and she's panicking and she doesn't know what to do! She wanted so desperately to be in the center of the photo and she got it and even now her photo was ruined!

"Poor girl," A voice enters her mind and suddenly all her tension fades away, "You want so desperately to be rid of your curse of always being in the background? If you do me one tiny favor, I'll make it so no one forgets you ever again."

"You would do that?" Juleka asks in disbelief, catching everyone's attention, "Anything!"

"Hansha, I am Monarque." The voice says, "I'm granting you the power to make everyone vanish! In return, bring me the jewels of Ladybug and Chat Noir, the earrings and ring."

"I'll show everyone here exactly what it's like to fade into the background!" She announces proudly.

-----

Adrien smiled, watching the interview from this morning. Ladybug had managed to make an announcement about what Akumas were, that they were the result of Monarque, and that the two would be protecting Paris from him. Even though he had already told Alya, who had streamed it and later put it on her blog, most of the public didn't know until now. Especially since he's seen a bunch of people angry at Stormy Weather, Statuesque, and Bubbler, namely those directly in the line of fire. Adrien didn't exactly blame them, but he felt bad for Aurore, Nino, and Nathalie; it wasn't their fault their negative emotions were preyed upon.

"Hey Adrien," He looks up as Alix walks up to him, "What's with the look?"

"Nothing," He shakes his head, "Is it almost our turn?"

"Nah, we got a bit," Alix says, sitting beside him on the bench, "So, in the meantime, I wanna know all there is to know about you Agreste."

"What do you wanna know?" Adrien asks.

-----

"Fashion Fad!" Marinette groaned, turning to Chloé, "You ruined my photo!"

"I didn't ruin anything, Bourgeois." Marinette says, crossing her arms over her chest, "It's not my fault you got in trouble for trying to shove me out of the way."

Chloé huffed, "It's your fault for not just dealing with it!"

"Seriously?" Alya says, walking up to them, "Back off Bourgeois, you're making yourself look stupid."

Chloé went to speak but all three's phones went off; Marinette grabbed hers quickly, opening the news broadcast.

"Don't be bemused, it's just the news," Nadja says, "A new supervillain has appeared inside Lycée Kingsworth. If you missed this morning's broadcast, this supervillain is called an Akuma, a victim of Monarque. Don't engage, this is to be dealt with by Ladybug and Chat Noir."

"An Akuma?" Alya repeats, "Damn, it's too far to get footage of!"

"I'll be back in a few minutes," Marinette says, leaving no room for argument. She sent a look to Alya as she said, "Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone."

-----

Chat Noir used his baton to launch himself forward, faster than if he simply ran. He was worried for the kids at Kingsworth, he had no idea what kind of Akuma they could be facing.

"Noir." Ladybug says, landing on the roof to his right and keeping pacing with him, "Any extra knowledge?"

"Just that there's an Akuma," Chat Noir says, "We're almost at Lycée Kingsworth."

"We need to be careful, we have no idea what the Akuma's capable of."

He nodded and the two hurried to the school, landing in the courtyard after only a couple of minutes. The entire school seemed to be deserted, it was extremely eerie.

-----

"Is it just me, or does this feel like a trap?" Ladybug questions as the heroes walk into an abandoned classroom.

"Not a trap," Chat Noir says, "But the Akuma is definitely toying with us."

"Eh," The two immediately turn to the voice behind them, a ghostly figure hovering before them, "It's not fun if you know."

A mask appeared over their face and they scoffed, "Whatever Monarque, let me have some fun with them first, besides, it's not like anyone will miss them."

The two heroes prepared for an attack but the Akuma vanished from sight.

"Where did they go?!" Ladybug exclaims.

"Back to back, don't let them sneak up on us!" Chat Noir calls, the two quickly pressing their backs together and slowly spinning in a circle to cover all their bases.

"The Akuma looked like a ghost."

"Acted like one too." Chat Noir adds, "Could they be able to move through objects?"

"If they could, they'd have attacked us already." Ladybug says, "Likely just some kind of invisibility."

Chat Noir stops moving, "The Akuma's still toying with us."

"We can't do anything if they don't show themself." Ladybug says, lowering her guard, "We need to draw them out."

"How do we do that if we don't know anything about them?"

"Lucky Charm!" She calls in lieu of a response, getting- "A hand mirror?"

Chat Noir leans in and looks at it, "I don't think reflecting on the situation is what we need to do Spots."

She rolled her eyes, holding the hand mirror up, only to almost drop it and turn around, "There!"

Chat Noir extended his baton, hitting... nothing.

"Spots, don't scare me like that!" He hissed.

"No!" Ladybug looked around, eyes scanning the classroom, "I saw her!"

She looked back in the mirror and saw the Akuma yet again, her eyes widened as she threw her yo-yo back. The Akuma dodged but as Ladybug looked, the Akuma was nowhere to be seen.

"The Akuma's inside the mirror." Ladybug says before suddenly she's hit in the back, sending her flying forward.

She barely hears Chat Noir shout before she's surrounded by silence. She shot to her feet, yo-yo at the ready; she reached for the mirror but it wasn't with her. She rushed over to where it was on the ground and grabbed it, only for her hand to phase through it.

"That won't work here." Ladybug whirled around, yo-yo at the ready, "You're in my world now, and I get to do whatever I want."

"You don't need to do this, Monarque isn't your ally."

The Akuma growls, "Monarque made me this, made me Hansha, he gave me what I wanted. You know what they say, if it's wrong I don't want to be right."

"You're helping a supervillain!" Ladybug says, barely catching her Lucky Charm move out of the corner of her eye.

"So what?!" Hansha snaps, "He actually gave me what I wanted and where were you!?"

-----

Chat Noir grabbed the side of the building, using the mirror to see exactly where the Akuma was. They were talking, likely to Ladybug, which meant they were distracted.

"Cataclysm."

-----

Ladybug readied her yo-yo, "Don't make me do this Hansha, you're better than this."

Hansha stutters but goes to attack, only for the floor beneath them to crumble. Ladybug's eyes went wide before she quickly focused, throwing her yo-yo to grab onto the Akuma. Hansha struggled for a moment but Ladybug was quick, yanking the Akuma out of the hole and throwing them into the wall. Before they could reorient themself, Ladybug rushed up and grabbed their arms, looking for the Akumatized object.

"I just wanted to break this curse!" The Akuma yells, "Is that so bad?!"

"It is if you hurt innocent people in the process." Ladybug grabbed their wrist and smashed the mirror, freeing the Akuma from Monarque's control and transporting them back to the real world.

"Spots!" Chat Noir says, excitedly, "Glad you're safe."

She smiled, "You too Noir."

Both their Miraculous beeped in warning, "We should go, are you gonna be alright?"

The victim slowly stands, nodding mutely.

"Stay safe." Chat Noir says, "But before we go."

"Pound it." The heroes say.

-----

That night Juleka was sat beside her girlfriend, Luka playing a soft melody to help her calm down.

"You really don't remember any of it?" Allegra, one of Luka's université friends, asks them.

"I got really upset," Juleka answers, attempting to recall any of what happened, "Then... someone talked to me? They calmed me down, then I was in a classroom with the heroes."

"Damn, that's kinda terrifying that Monarque can do that." Allegra says, "On the bright side, you didn't hurt anyone at least."

Juleka frowned, hugging their knees to their chest, "I did. Nathaniel was terrified, he told me as much."

"He was scared of Hansha, not you Jules." Rose reminds them, "Besides, anyone would be scared if their new friend just turned into a supervillain."

"Still." She mutters.

"If it helps you at all," Luka speaks up, "You looked pretty cool."

Juleka flushed as Rose continued, "Totally!"

"Kill me now." She quietly begs.

"No one's killing you." Socqueline says as she walks into Juleka's room, "I'd rather not think of these stupid fucking Akumas for now, please. I think Juleka would agree."

"Hey Rhythm." Luka greets his girlfriend, "How was work?"

"Hell." Socqueline groans, "Allegra, why don't you work with me so we can be in hell together?"

"Sorry hun, but that's a hard pass from me." Allegra says, to which Socqueline pouts.

-----

"Hey Nino!" Alya calls excitedly, smiling brightly.

"Hey Als." Nino greets, walking up to her, "Where's Nette?"

"She slept in," Alya quickly answers, "Again. I am glad the girl’s getting more sleep but it's been messing with our plans since school started."

"Hey, it's only been a week," Nino reminds her.

"Yeah but I already miss summer." Alya pouts, "But on the bright side, my dad got a promotion at work, he's working with the new panthers."

"That's really cool." Nino says, intrigued.

"It opens on Tuesday if you want to go." Alya offers, "I was gonna go by myself but when my dad gets excited it's kind of a lot."

Nino chuckled, "Don't worry, I'll be your bodyguard."

"What, you're gonna fight my dad and the panthers?" Alya teases.

"If that means you're safe, so be it." Nino says with a confident smile.

"Wow, my own knight in shining armor." She teases.

Next Chapter: Animan

Previous Chapter: The Bubbler

Chapter Index

[abigailvonah05]

Artist Research #6: Bruce Gilden

Introduction/Background: 

Bruce Gilden is an American street photographer born in 1946 in Brooklyn, New York. He is most known for his up-close candid shots of people walking the streets of New York City. His love for the arts started at the age of 18 when he began visiting museums with beautiful paintings in them. From these frequent museum trips, Van Gogh became a figure that eventually inspired to be a photographer. This was because all of his paintings had dramatic striking colors, even though photography at the time was black and white. He wrestled with the idea of becoming an actor until he settled with photography and purchased his first camera. He always had a fascination with his surroundings, therefore he decided to document it through photography. He’s almost entirely self taught with style being very distinct. Gilden focused on getting “graphic and often confrontational close-ups made using flash” (Magnum), In order to establish a feeling of “intimacy and directness.” All of his photographs portray marginalized and neglected communities which is evident by looking at his photos. The photos make the subject look exposed in a way and without a filter which has caused some controversy in the past. In fact, American photographer Joel Meyerowitz called Gilden “a fucking bully” who only wants to embarrass and humiliate people with this “in your face” strategy he has with all of his publications.  It seems though with the type of people he’s photographing he could be instead of humiliating them, just bringing awareness to these mistreated and forgotten communities. 

Notable works: 

One notable work of Bruce Gilden is his photo book titled Haiti. This was published in 1999, and like his other works this one has the same up close shots present throughout. For some background information, Haiti is a poor Caribbean nation and with this publication, Gilden’s goal was not to flatter the subjects, rather to cause a “visceral reaction” to the photos. This gives the viewers a “mysterious, unsettling, but profound glimpse into the ‘otherness’ of the native population of this storied Caribbean nation” (Street photography, submissions). 

Another notable work of Gilden is Facing New York, published in 1992. This was Bruce Gilden’s first major publication during his career, and is now recognized as one of the classics. This project seeks to capture New York City as the days naturally play out, in order to capture the unique energy of the streets. In capturing New York as it is, he also wants to uncover the humanity underneath their shell of persona. To do this, confrontational “in your face” photos are taken of people that expose their true form without it looking perfected or edited. 

Awards/Nominations: 

Bruce Gilden has won many awards in the past. These include some of the following: 

1979: Artist's Fellowship, New York Foundation for the Arts, New York.

1980: Photographer's Fellowship, National Endowment for the Arts. 

1984: Photographer's Fellowship, National Endowment for the Arts.

1992: Artist's Fellowship, New York Foundation for the Arts, New York.

1996: European Publishers Award for Photography for Haiti.

1999: Artist's Fellowship, from the Japan Foundation, for Tokyo Extremes.

2013: Guggenheim Fellowship from the John Simon Guggenheim Memorial Foundation.

Personal thoughts: 

This photographer was by far the most unique one I’ve researched so far. When I first found him, I thought the same way that many of his critics thought, which was that he’s “embarrassing” and “humiliating” people on purpose for his own personal game. But in photography, sometimes that truth isn’t always gonna be pretty and most of the time in order for a photograph to be effective, there needs to be some ugly and sometimes graphic images that directly communicate something. This is clearly what Gilden’s purpose in his photos are, to spread awareness. I also found his work to be inspiring in a way. This is because I struggle with taking photos and I’ve realized that it’s because I haven’t been getting close enough or zooming in enough to really capture the essence of what I’m trying to communicate. His is a very exaggerated example of closeness, but the idea is still that simply zooming in or getting closer shows the emotion and message more clearly. 

Works cited: 

https://www.dewilewis.com/products/facing-new-york

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bruce_Gilden#Publications_with_contributions_by_Gilden

https://streetphotography.com/bruce-gildens-haiti/

https://independent-photo.com/news/bruce-gilden/

https://store.magnumphotos.com/collections/bruce-gilden

[artxyra]

Damian Acting Like A Teenager? Impossible.

When Damian entered the halls of Gotham Academy, the first thing he notices was the change in the dark atmosphere. It felt oddly kinder and more lighthearted. Everywhere he turns, there are whispers focus around the new girl. At first, he didn’t care about the gossip, well, that was until he met her.

It was an unusual encounter, something that he would look down on.

It was the passing period, and she was running down the halls in a hurry as he was walking to his next class, one that he didn’t particularly care for; they bump into each other, causing a standstill in the halls. Everyone wondered how the dark prince would react to their newly dubbed princess of sunshine. They expected a yelling match, which, of course, occurred, but what they didn’t expect was an eventual best of the worst of alliance ever made.

Several months passed since the two had met and several weeks since the blooming of Damian and Marinette’s friendship, and not a single student could say that there weren’t surprised.

The moment Marinette had broken down any (and all) walls that the boy had placed, she was able to make the stoic teen become his age. It started small with a joke here and there; then it progressed into card games followed by video games. To this day, Damian swears that he’ll beat her at a shooting game at one point, to which Marinette would respond with a laugh and an over-the-shoulder wink. The young Wayne swears that he has never blush a day in his life, but the photographic proof on Marinette’s phone says otherwise.

The school soon became accustomed to being Daminette’s playground. At first, the teachers were opposed to the idea, but after seeing how slightly more open Damian has become, they slowly agreed to the concept of allowing the duo to have less strict rules. That and they didn't want to be sued by the Wayne family.

Which now brings us to this moment: Marinette swings on a swing set while Damian practices his form with a katana; don’t ask how he managed to get it past security-- cause there is no answer.

“You know, maybe we should do something wild?” Marinette thinks aloud, looking up to the sky with a mischief smirk on her lips.

Damian doesn’t turn to her; he only sets the blade down to his side. “What mayhem do you have in mind?”

Marinette giggles uncontrollably.

Let’s assume that whatever Marinette had in mind would rule the yearbooks for years to come.

~☾★☽~

Since his partnership with Marinette, Damian has been hiding his characteristic change at home. Surprisingly, it was simple. A few death threats here and there, maybe sneaking out moments every so often. No one at the Wayne cared enough to pay any attention to it. It only then became a shock when Damian left for school along the lines of being late. Alfred had offered to take him to school to which Damian declined and got onto his “normal” motorcycle and speeds off.

“Does anyone else seem to think that Damian is acting strange?” Dick asks, pipping his head down from the ceiling. He’s on the chandelier again. Poor Alfred, maybe Dick should dust the chandelier for him as an apology.

Tim walks in with a large, filled to the brim, coffee mug in hand, “Which one?” He absently wonders, taking a long sip. The dark circles and bags around his eyes explain it all.

“I do concur with Master Richard; the young master has been acting somewhat strange for quite some time now.” Alfred appears out of nowhere, thus starting an array of concerns.

It wasn’t long before Jason came in shouting demands with the head of the household trailing behind him. Alfred reprimands Jason for the yelling as he hands Bruce a cup of coffee.

Not caring enough about the conversation and looking like a madman, Jason shouts, “Look, I can’t explain it, but we’re going to need Demon Spawn for something huge.”

“Uh, why would we need Baby Bird?” Dick asks, dropping onto the floor and twisting his body. “Not that I don’t mind getting Damian involved.”

“Look, there’s no time to explain,” Jason facepalms and begins to push everyone towards the door despite the lack of proper wear they have on.

After several protests and one change of clothes, the Wayne household now stands in front of the gates of Gotham Academy.

“Is it me, or does this place look less you know Gotham-y and full of life?” Tim ponders, narrowing his eyes, as he takes a long sip from a to-go coffee cup with Red Robin’s emblem.

“No, no, Timmy, I see it too.” Dick whispers as Jason struts past the gates and onto the school’s property like a man on a mission.

Bruce sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, “Come on, let’s go get your brother so Jason can stop being Jason.”

Tim shrugs before passing the gates himself, with Dick following him.

Upon entering the school, they could immediately see that it was either a passing period or free time from the number of students in the halls. Some student dared to pull out their phones while other whispers amongst themselves.

Bruce makes his way to the attendance office, where the attendance assistant, Joyce, resides sitting at the desk.

“Hello Joyce, I’m here to pick up Damian. He has a, uh, dentist appointment this evening.” Bruce speaks, hoping that she wouldn’t catch the lie.

“Well Mr. Wayne, Damian is, uh…” After lingering in her thoughts, Joyce turns to someone besides her. “Do you know where Damian Wayne would be at today?”

“Try the art room.” A feminine voice answers, followed by a series of typing noises.

Joyce turns back to the Wayne family and smiles, “He should be in the art room; it’s down the hall to your right, you should not miss it, as it’s in the only hallway that has a series of artwork posted on the walls. Before you go, please sign here."

Joyce hands Bruce a sign-out sheet, to which the man signs and ushers his wards to search for his youngest.

“They’re so screwed.” The same feminine voice speaks, causing Joyce to break out laughing.

It took a total of four different locations for the men to find the youngest Wayne.

First, they went to the art room like Joyce’s co-worker told them to do.

When they got there, Damian wasn't there, but the teacher did show Bruce a couple of Damian's artworks. Bruce couldn't help but feel proud.

While looking around the room, one of the art students told them they last saw Damian playing Pokémon Go near the gym; he was trying to catch a legendary Pokémon that spawned there.

So, of course, after an awkward eye contact with one another, they walk to the gym. Once again, Damian wasn’t there but a different student in his stead. He tells them that Damian was making ice sculptures out of ice cream at the cafeteria. The student then goes on to explain that Damian had some wicked skills with a knife.

Jason, with wide eyes, practically shouted at the student that he was crazy and that Damian would never, and he means NEVER would do something that stupid. The student shrugs it off like it was an everyday occurrence. It was Dick that had to hold Jason back from thrashing the teen. Bruce then apologizes to the instructor for their disturbance, as Tim walks casually behind Dick carrying Jason.

By the time they got to the cafeteria, it was damn near empty aside from a few students still eating. There were no signs of ice cream or the tools that would go into making an ice sculpture. Tim had to ask a few students to see if Damian was in here at some point in time. One of the workers overheard the question and answered him. Evidently, Damian was there earlier making sculptures out of ice cream before handing it out to students.

When they asked the question that has been slowly driving the four insane, the worker replies with: “Upstairs racing on these old colorful scooter board down the halls."

After three locations and no Damian, Tim wanted nothing more but to have a mental breakdown, and he would have if it wasn’t for Bruce holding him up and taking his coffee away.

So, they quickly found themselves on the second level of the school. There was no sight of Damian Wayne, though there were wheel tracks smudged into the flooring.

“Are you kidding me?” Jason shouts out into the ceiling. Thankfully, there were no students in the halls to hear it. Well, that might have been the case if it wasn’t for a teacher to open their door and shh the male. It took every bone in Jason's body not to show the teacher his middle finger.

After a beat of silence and walking down the hall, they overhear a familiar voice.

“Angel, you are desperately in the wrong here. The bear only wears one color, so it has to the color red.” Jason stops dead in his tracks and turns to railings.

The voice was too good to be true.

Looking over the staircase, they find an alcove, and sitting in it is none other than Damian Wayne himself, but he’s not alone.

“I’m telling you, Wayne. Pooh’s favorite color is yellow.” The female answers before taping her fingers as she makes her points, “He loves honey, which is by default a yellow color. He's never seen with a yellow background, and if yellow didn't clash with his fur, he would definitely be wearing it.”

“I disagree. Winnie the Pooh has been drawn on numerous of occasions with red items, not yellow. Case in point, the red balloon, his shirt." He counters. The conversation continues with banters and statements; whether it was true or false is up to debate.

This was not happening.

Tim.exe has stopped working.

Jason.exe has stopped working.

Jaws dropped, a low groaning sound.

They cannot be witnessing this. The most deadliest of the Wayne’s is currently arguing about Winnie, the motherfucking, Pooh’s favorite color.

Bruce has no words. He's practically in the same stance as his middle children. Dick, on the other hand, pulls out his phone and begins to record what remains of the conversation.

No one dares to move or utter out words. This version of Damian is the apocalypse. Nothing in the world is okay.

Slowly, the four Waynes exit the school; no one saw them leave.

Legend has it that Damian never went home that day despite being excused from his classes. When he had returned home, his family didn't utter a word to him. He was meet with either a profusely blinking, unwanted hug or laughter, as they were still in shock at what they just encountered. It wasn’t until a couple of months later that all hell breaks loose. Damian had introduced the family to Marinette.

----

A retouch version of Request #2

[jeannereames]

Hi, love your blog and your books, they have been good for my knowledge, they had made clear some points that were cover by the mist of ignorance, I mean, when I was at school my teachers didn't know about Alexander so when we saw him in history class there were a lot of incoherences (sorry for my poor grammar, I'm still learning english).

Hephaestion is an interesting character, we don't know much about him but I have always wonder how he was as a husband, in my research it seems that he wasn't so interest in women like others were. I have wonder if that make him a careless or a typical (in the context of the history) husband? Did he marry because Alexander say so or because he wants to ensure his place? Does he felt pity for the girl or he didn't care about her at all? Was a better husband than Alexander?

And talking about Drypetis, we know about the famous beauty of her mother and of Roxanne. But how do you think that beauty was? Certainly, not like my modern view about attractiveness of a female, so I wonder yours.

Sorry for the long post! 🙃

We know nothing about his interest (or lack of it) in women. He did marry in Susa in 324 because Alexander told him to…along with 90 other officers. That doesn’t mean he was against the idea—may have been one of the few fully in favor of it for the politics.

While fictionally I’ll make hay over his lack of recorded lovers (of either gender), from an academic point of view…it’s meaningless.

This is probably a good time to review “arguments from silence,” and why they’re so tricky.

An ARGUMENT FROM SILENCE suggests a lack of evidence is significant. BUT this only works if one can demonstrate that such evidence ought to be there…and isn’t.

That’s hard to do for the ancient world as “a lack of evidence” describes our cursed lot. My modern historian colleagues are regularly astonished by how little we have, and what we can spin out from that little.

I bring this up is because arguments from silence are too common in pop history, which too often does them badly due to a lack of understanding regarding 1) what evidence IS available, 2) what should be available, and 3) what’s absolutely unsurprising not to find.

Sometimes students will ask me, “But didn’t they write stuff like that down?” (‘That’ varying.) The answer is often, “No.” Or more colorfully, “They didn’t give a shit.” Even in the Roman Empire, they lacked bureaucratic record-keeping as we understand it. In Greece, centuries earlier, a few city-states kept some records, but most didn’t, especially prior to the mid-4thCentury BCE. It’s connected to the “epigraphic habit”: the desire to record information (in public) for posterity, and the idea that record-keeping might be a good general idea often merge.

Even so, WHAT they thought worthy of recording isn’t always what we’d like to know. This, in turn, pertains to how they wrote historical texts: what they chose to report (or not).

So, with that background…

The problem with knowing Hephaistion’s sexual interest (or lack of it) in women is how and why our sources relate such information.

In short: they mostly don’t.

This owes to their LASER focus on Alexander. Even then, what each source tells about him varies. I think we can probably be sure we know all Alexander’s wives, although Barsine’s status is not completely clear (imo). I assume she was at least a palakē, which is a formal mistress: less than a wife, but more than a hetaira. Yet given Macedonian marriage practices, perhaps she was a wife in Macedonian eyes? The Greeks regularly “demoted” Macedonian royal wives to mistresses, so I don’t trust our sources on this score.

Whatever the case, we don’t know all Alexander’s female (or male) sexual liaisons outside his wives because the sources mostly don’t care. When they do care (ala Plutarch and Curtius), it’s for some—often Romanized—moral point. Which is a looong-ass way from anything the Macedonians cared about.

And if we don’t even know his, how can we assume we know his officers’? Hell-to-the-no!

We hear about these women only if they matter to the larger (Alexander-driven) narrative. So we know the name of Philotas’s mistress, Antigonē, because she was hired by Krateros to bring pillow talk back to Alexander. We know Harpalus’s mistresses because he spent oodles of treasury funds on them, and got in trouble for it (twice). We recognize the name Laïs because she later became the long-time mistress (palakē) of Ptolemy I, mother of some of his important offspring in the Successor wars.

Ergo, not knowing the names of Hephaistion’s mistresses—or whether he had any—is not significant. Outside of special circumstance, we wouldn’t expect to.

We DO know the name of his wife from the mass-marriages at Susa in the spring of 324 because she was a princess, sister of Alexander’s wife, and her selection for him had distinct political significance. Yet that doesn’t mean he didn’t have a wife already, back in Macedon. Others of Alexander’s officers did–one reason many promptly divorced their Persian brides after Alexander’s death. I note the possibility largely as it illustrates the level of what we don’t know.

My educated hunch is that Hephaistion’s marriage to Drypetis was his first marriage. And I don’t believe he had any children (even by-blows), or we’d have heard about them as a result of Alexander’s extravagant grief. Yet this is far from saying he had no mistresses—or boyfriends, for that matter.

Regarding Drypetis and his relationship with her…it’s a complete blank. We just don’t know how Hephaistion treated her, what she thought of him, or what he thought of her. They weren’t married long enough. The weddings were in early spring, after ATG got back to Susa following the Gedrosian march/rest in Karmania. He spent a while sorting business in Susa before he went on to Opis (and subsequent unrest/mutiny there). I suspect Hephaistion and Drypetis were married no more than 6-7 months. He died in early/mid-October. She wasn’t pregnant by his death, but given how busy that period was, it could be a function of his duties and lack of time.

As for the beauty of Persian royal/elite women, it seems to have been something remarked upon by more than just Alexander historians. We lack images of Achaemenid Persians, alas, but below is a lapis lazuli bust of among the most famous: Atossa, daughter of Cyrus, wife of Darius, and mother of Xerxes (lived second half of the 6th century BCE). Note the large eyes, high eyebrows (apparently plucked), and small mouth. Given the tendency to idealizing in Ancient Near Eastern art, this suggests what would have been considered high beauty.

Beneath her is a Roman copy of Praxiteles’s original Aphrodite of Knidos—considered the ideal of Greek female beauty in the early-mid 4th century BCE (based on the incomparable Phryne, Praxiteles’s mistress).

Both have an oval face with full cheeks, and we can see Aphrodite’s nicely plump. That meant something! She had enough to eat = wealth. The modern starved-skinny model with long face, strong jaw, and stark cheekbones…that’s attractive now partly owing to what photographs well: prominent features and thinness (because the camera adds pounds). Persians and Greeks preferred rounder features, heart-shaped faces, small bow mouths, soft jaws, and fullness in the body (plump, not overweight). About the only hold-over would be large eyes.

What I haven’t really noted is coloring…other than a preference for pale skin as that signified one had slaves (= rich) and didn’t have to work in the fields outside. Hair color and eye color just wasn’t that big of a deal. Sometimes it comes to the fore: gray-eyed Athena. (Although the word is generic for blue/gray/greenish.) Similar for Apollo and Dionysos, in the Homeric hymns. Dionysos had black hair there (as did Apollo). Both “blond-up” only in the Classical era. And Hera was noted for her extraordinarily beautiful “cow-eyes.” E.g., large and dark-dark brown.

BUT, because I love to support the Gingers of the World…RED-blond hair was considered the most desired in Greece. Aphrodite was a strawberry blonde (at least sometimes), as was Helen…when anybody bothered to note it. And (quite probably) Alexander.

[jayankles]

The Culmination: Endgame

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader

Word Count: 2362

Summary: Y/N doesn’t feel so good and it’s not like her to not answer the phone to Sebastian. He was right to send over Josie, Y/N’s friend, over to find out what’s wrong.

Warnings: Angst, Implied Smut, Fluff

Written for: @anyfandomangstbingo​ | @anyfandomfluffbingo​ | @anyfandomgoesbingo​ 

Squares Filled:  Sick fic | first time | “I really don’t like doing this over the phone”

A/N - Blake Lively is not a representation of the reader; it’s just for the dress. And the other beautiful woman is exactly who I pictured for Josie.

Feedback is gold and appreciated

Of course, you were sick today. The day that Sebastian had told you that he was to take a day at the gym then spend it with Don. You knew that when you woke up this morning it wasn’t going to be a good day, the cold sheets a little foreshadowing of how your day would have gone. The little guttural feeling you had punching you in the gut right now, it had you on the floor, bent over the toilet seat with your head in the bowl.

You felt awful. Unable to move, unless it was your throat spasming. Definitely the worst day so far, you couldn’t move and when you finally were able to move at all you felt like a robot. Not a good look.

You decided that it was time to head back to bed, none of your food would stay down so you made yourself a bottle of water and stumbled into bed with a bucket in your hand, ready to put the bucket on the floor beside your bed.

Pulling at the covers, you curled up under them and took a swig of your drink. Tears rolled down your face as you felt the pain grow stronger, you rubbed your stomach in hopes it would make you feel better; it didn’t.

All you could do was pray that you would fall asleep to not feel this pain anymore. Sleep evaded you. The pain is all there is that you feel. You threw up another three times before you finally succumbed to the pleasures of sleep. Rattling of keys had been the object that had drawn you out of your few moments of slumber. You didn’t dare move though, there was no point, you couldn’t move anyway.

“Y/N! Y/N, where are you?” It took you a minute to realise that it was your friend, Josie, shouting your name in hopes of finding you. “Y/N, Whe- There you are. What are you still doing in bed? Oh...”

She looked as if she sighed out a breath of relief before she retracted, covering her mouth and nose with her hand. Inhaling the stench of the room, she quickly ran out of there, returning with air freshener, spraying it around you to make her feel better.

“You need a bath, babe. Stay here and I’ll run you one. Of course you’re going to stay here, you poor thing.” Josie rambled, you stopped her before she could go on for another hour.

“Jo, pour some lavender in there. Love you.”

Freshly out of the bath after thirty minutes, you were wrapped up in Sebastian’s bathrobe, a reminder that he was home as it still smelt like him. “I hate feeling like this. It sucks. But I feel better already.”

Josie softly smiled at you, pity in her eyes. “Must have been that nap you took but I know it sucks. Could you imagine Seb with this kinda illness, though? It would be 100% worse just because it’s man flu.”

“Thank you for being here.” You said, taking a seat on the couch. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“Seb called, said he tried texting and video chatting you but you wouldn’t pick up. I guess he was right to have me come over and check on you.”

“He’s such a cutie.” You groaned as you walked, the bath only slightly relieving some of the pain.

“I know. It makes me wanna barf… not like you, though. That shit is nasty, no, thank you, ma’am.” She tutted through a pinched nose, reminding of just how gross you felt and smelt not even a mere hour ago.

“You’re a pleasure as always, Jo. Always so kind to me, when I feel like shit. Thank you.”

She shrugged knowingly, a smirk on her face as she reached forward for the remote, finding a music channel and turning it down a little so it faded into the background becoming nothing but white noise. “So do you know what brought this on? Eat some bad food?”

“I don’t think so, otherwise Seb would feel the same way right?”

“Well you aren’t pooping as well as being sick so this isn’t a viral or bacterial thing. You’re not burning up? No severe migraines?” She asked and you only had one answer.

“Nope. And no, my appendix hasn’t burst because I’ve already had it out.” You said, becoming tired again as you let out a yawn.

“Well, I think I might need to slip out for a little bit.”

“Why? Where are you going? I thought you were going to take care of me?”

“I am. I’m just gonna head to the store and grab you some stuff to make tomato soup. I’ll be twenty minutes tops.” Josie was true to her word, never taking more than the twenty minutes she promised. Putting the bag of groceries on the counter, Josie pulls out the contents, revealing the ingredients she offered to get for you but you could tell that there was something else in the bag.

“What’s in there?”

Josie was fidgety, her fingers twiddling together. “I need you to keep an open mind because I think I know why you’re grossly throwing up.”

“Hit me. I wanna know how I can feel better right now.”

“It’s a good thing that you’re sitting down because…” She paused, making a face that she knew you weren’t going to like. “Because I think you’re pregnant.” her face unchanging as she pulled out the pregnancy test.

Then it hit you. 

No.No.No. Fuck!

Hands dancing.

Tongues twining.

Passion blooming.

It was everything you could have asked for when he was away but now that Sebastian was back, you couldn’t keep your hands off of him. You covered every area of the apartment possible.

Oh crap.

“Fuck!”

“Yes you did.” Josie laughed at her own joke, the reaction not quite the same on your end.

“Oh god, Sebastian is going to kill me. He’s never going to want to talk to me. Why was I so stupid? Oh, I’m never gonna hear from him again. I’ll be kicked out. I’ll be a single mother. I’m gonna have to live with you and if I have this baby, you’re gonna hate me, then you’re gonna kick me out too. ”

Josie scoffed at you, helping you scurf back your hair away from your face, making you look into her wide eyes. “First of all, chill. I gotchu, you know I gotchu forever. Sebastian isn’t like that, but if he is you will never see him again and that is a promise and maybe a little bit of a threat. He’ll deserve it if he hurts you so. Just be my alibi if anything ever happens. Just go take the test. Negative? You’re just sick. Positive? You call Sebastian and you talk to him like an adult.”

“Why are you always right? Don’t you ever get sick of it?” You huffed before you smiled at her, squeezing at her hand after taking the small handful of the pregnancy test boxes back to the bathroom.

Five minutes passed and you were holding the peed on sticks in your hand, four out of five of them being positive. “I think I need to call Sebastian, and a doctor.”

After making an appointment with the doctor, you took a deep breath and pressed the button to call Sebastian. He picks up the call pretty quickly and you are not surprised.

“Y/N! Finally! Are you okay? What happened?”

“Hey bubba. I’m fine, just a little sickness. But I really don’t like doing this over the phone. When are you coming home. We need to talk.”

Two months later.

It was the night of the premiere of Avengers: Endgame and you couldn’t be more thrilled for the success that the Marvel Franchise had. It was 10 years of absolute lovable craziness. Thank you, Stan Lee.

You had no idea that you would be here on the aptly coloured, purple carpet with Sebastian after all you would have thought that you would still be with him after the whole pregnancy fiasco but the two of you were able to talk things through. Things were thrown, voices were raised, and tears were shed but still after all of that, Sebastian made the executive decision to calm the two of you down. The stress was no good for anyone at this point. You were both going to be parents; it’s what was established.

The two of you walked hand in hand, palms sweating as the cameras flashed, and photographers called out to each and every star that was involved in the production of Endgame. The culmination of the whole franchise was just so surreal, the fact that it was ending with a bang both made you swell with pride but it also made you a tad emotional because this collection of amazing characters wouldn’t continue but the legacy they left would. And that was what mattered.

“Sebastian! Y/N! Over here!” You heard from one of the interviewers, looking beautiful in her outfit, Sebastian rubbed his thumb across your knuckles, you were going to be okay. He was right there with you and you had done this a few times before. He was there for you.

“Hi.” “Hello. You and Sebastian answered at the same time, making the interviewer laugh.

“Wait, I remember you. I bought you a soup in a thermos and Tom gave you his jacket. I see we got lucky with good weather today, huh?” You said, smiling at her.

“Yes. You remember me?!” The woman turned to the camera looking right into the lens of it. “Guys, I’m fangirling so hard right now. Ah!”

Once the woman got her fangirling out of the way, she moved onto the interview, trying to get any information that she could before the movie premiered. Sebastian took over that one, telling her that there was no way that they were allowed to say anything about the movie other than he was dust.

“Now we’ve got that movie non gossip out of the way. Are you okay to talk freely about your pregnancy?”

You looked to Sebastian, it was his decision just as much as it was yours, you knew that Sebastian wanted to keep his private life separate from his professional acting career. “It’s okay, honey. Go ahead.”

“I think you’re good to go.”

“Thank you. I must say that you do look stunning in that dress.” She gushed, you thanked her, hiding your face a little. You loved this dress, the nude under layer and the little white and purple flowers that scattered across your dress, your bump barely visible through your dress.

“How far along are you?”

“Well, we’re in the first week of the second trimester. So I’m a little more confident when telling you that.”

“That’s amazing. Was the pregnancy planned at all?”

You made a face, sucking in a little air, looking to Sebastian for a little light to be shed on the situation. “Not at all. It was Y/N’s friend that actually realised that her morning sickness wasn’t her having the flu. She felt absolutely awful that morning, it was enough to know that it was bad when I tried to call her and I didn’t get an answer.

“We had our issues, you know, we didn’t know what to do, we're new at this. But I think that it’s important to know that you don’t abandon your family.” Sebastian softly smiled at you, subconsciously putting a hand on your slowly growing stomach. “I guess that is what this franchise is about though, right? It’s about family and- and looking out for one another. Everybody’s got a somebody here and I love that.”

“And Thanos, fucks it all up and snaps his goddamn fingers.” The three of you and the cameraman began to laugh at your little outburst about the mad, purple titan. “God, I can’t wait for the premiere tonight but I’m scared. For everybody. But especially for me, you know, I’m an emotional person anyway, add a hormonal woman to the mix and a whole lot of angst. Get my ice cream and tissues ready, because I’m coming for you, Thanos.”

“I heard that!”

“Love you, Josh. For the record, Josh is a nice guy, the character he plays is a big old sack of balls and I have no idea how he does it so convincingly.” Lovingly, you made eyes at Seb. “But it’s just like my Sebastian, a dark hydra assassin but in reality he’s a big ball of sunshine and goofiness. And I love him for it.”

“This is- this is what gets me.” The interviewer leaned in a little as Sebastian’s voice dropped to a slight whisper. “I know that she is going to be the best mom for our child because Y/N loves everything and everyone and that is a great quality to have but she’s also caring and matches my goofy side but her sass outweighs mine of course, no one can beat that.”

“Aww, he’s making me cry already. Seb,” you whined. “My makeup.”

“Well that's it folks.” The woman spoke, telling the audience that this was one of the cutest interviews that she had ever taken, that she could die happy and quickly saying congratulations before the two of you were whisked away to walk the carpet again and pose for pictures.

“You’re way too good to me, you know that right?” You said to Seb as you admired the sky blue suit he was wearing over his plain white tee. “I never even got to tell them that this baby will have the hottest dad in the world as well as the sweetest man. Thank you for being my baby daddy.”

Unbeknownst to you, the cameras had caught every single moment the two of you shared. The kisses you shared together, were now shared with the world, all over social media. At this point you didn’t care, you only cared about the man in front of you and the baby growing in your stomach. And this god damn movie!

Feedback is gold and appreciated

[ghostbustershq]

Ghostbusters: Afterlife - Trailer 2 Full Breakdown

This is it, this is definitely it!

A meaty and goosebump-evoking trailer just dropped today for Ghostbusters: Afterlife.

Much like the first trailer, the main focus of this is the family - forced to move to Oklahoma after falling on tough times. Janine, Terror Dogs, Mini Pufts, and Ghostbusting in motion as Jason Reitman has referred to it are all here. There’s a whole lot here to unpack, plus a whole lot that I’m sure we still haven’t seen. In fact, I would argue that we now have a pretty complete picture of what’s in store come November and are being shown just enough to tide us over until the fall.

This was a solid trailer. It hit all of the right notes. It invoked goosebumps on several occasions. And oh boy, does it demonstrate that Jason Reitman wasn’t kidding when he told us hardcore nerds that if we loved easter eggs, we were in for a treat.

Let’s break it down, shall we?

A GREAT MOM

The trailer begins with a very quiet and intimate bit of dialogue between Paul Rudd’s Mr. Grooberson and Carrie Coon’s Callie.

The two sit at a table, and while the trailer frames it to appear to be Spinners, a quick glimpse at the wall next to the two in a later shot shows they’re actually in a Chinese restaurant. In fact, I love that Grooberson has what looks to be one of the deluxe Benihana cocktails in a ceramic glass in front of him. Grooberson tells Callie that she’s a great mom, but she’s not so sure. Callie feels like she’s been a great mother to her oldest, Trevor (Finn Wolfhard). But feels like her introverted daughter Phoebe (McKenna Grace) keeps her at a distance. There’s a sense that Callie and Phoebe can’t find much common ground, and for this her mother is struggling.

I really love how the trailer gently brings us into the world, helps set the stage, and gives us several glimpses of some of the incredible cinematography in store from Eric Steelberg.

AN AWKWARD, NERDY KID

Grooberson’s dialogue reassures Callie that what Phoebe is going through is normal. He calls her an “awkward, nerdy kid” to imagery of her at school being teased. Ghostbusters: The Video Game fans concerned about if the story and events from the game will somehow be referenced or acknowledged in some way will probably quickly notice the Doritos product placement. Hours of gameplay has trained them well.

Anyway, not only is Phoebe failing to connect with her mother on a deeper level, but it appears that she’s an outsider at school as well. It makes the friendship we know she’s to have with Podcast (Logan Kim) that much sweeter. And you feel for her right out of the gate here, hoping that she’ll find that friend as soon as possible.

Callie and Grooberson’s conversation comes to a conclusion with Phoebe’s mother just wishing, “she’d get into some trouble.” As her mother laments about her daughter needing to be bold and a little more adventurous, we see a continuation of the scene from the first trailer in which Phoebe solves a puzzle built into the floor of the farmhouse in order to find a hidden ghost trap. Perhaps Ghostbusting is exactly the trouble the young and brainy kid needs?

As we, the audience, see the familiar ghost trap, there’s quite literally a drum roll added to the music scoring of the trailer. Perhaps Ghostbusting is exactly the trouble we need too.

JANINE, YOU HAVEN’T CHANGED

The trailer continues with the Trevor dialogue we heard in the first trailer as he explains to Lucky (Celeste O’Connor) that they’re broke and the only thing they have is a “creepy old farmhouse” left to them by their grandfather. But that is the lead in to our first major surprise of the trailer: a glimpse of Annie Potts’ return as Janine Melnitz!

Janine jokes to Callie that her father wasn’t much of a homemaker. “He could hardly keep the power on,” Janine says with a chuckle. If there was any question of the family lineage, this trailer solidifies that Callie and her family are Spengler through-and-through.

It should be noted at this point that the quiet music that accompanied the beginning of the trailer suddenly has these eerie choral notes added to it. Adding a little bit of that paranormal/otherworldly feeling but keeping the trailer light and playful. I’m not sure if this is Rob Simonsen’s score, but if I had to guess given the way the music builds and shifts, this is an original music bed for the trailer only.

It’s also interesting to see how we’ll be able to revisit the past in the film by use of footage from the original (as seen in the YouTube videos playing on various computers) but also the use of one of my favorite set photography moments framed and displayed in the farmhouse presented as a personal photograph. I know, given how some people reacted to seeing a headshot of Sean Connery used in an Indiana Jones film, these types of touches can take people out of a film. But I think the trailer gives us a great idea of how these moments will be integrated and I love it.

The trailer takes a hard turn with a great back and forth between Callie and Janine. Callie tells Janine that it sounds like her father has left her nothing. Janine playfully retorts, “Well, I wouldn’t say nothing.” This line is masterfully juxtaposed with Trevor opening the barn doors to find the Ectomobile housed under a tarp. The music comes to a crescendo as Trevor lifts the tarp and reveals the Ghostbusters Mooglie logo.

Let’s call this goosebumps moment number one.

THE ONLY ONE WITH AN ENGINE

It’s this part of the trailer where it does something that’s a rarity these days, and that I appreciate so much: the music takes a breath and completely drops off to give us a small vignette of a scene from the film. Phoebe enters the barn to find Trevor working on the Ecto. She ribs him that, of all the broken down cars on the farm, he’s chosen “the station wagon.” Trevor responds that his vehicle of choice was the only one with an engine.

The music and percussion come back in full force to score Trevor on a joy ride through the wheat fields of the farm. He seems to be having a good time.

So am I… this was definitely goosebumps moment number two.

A STORM COMING

Act Two of the trailer starts with a dark and ominous storm coming into Sumerville. There’s trouble in small town Oklahoma. Grooberson reiterates his line about a town with no faultlines shaking on a daily basis to Trevor and Phoebe. Only this time, he receives a response: “Maybe it’s the apocalypse.” Phoebe delivers the line to Grooberson with such amazing deadpan earnestness that you can tell she and grandpa might have a whole lot in common. Including their sense of humor.

The line gives us a good chuckle to break the tension but also sets the stage for what’s to come in the trailer: exactly what Phoebe has predicted.

EVERYTHING HAPPENS FOR A REASON

As Phoebe tells us that “Egon came here for a reason,” an archival piece of footage and dialogue from the first film plays on her laptop: the commercial playing on Dana Barrett’s television at 55 CPW. As the original Ghostbusters give you their sales pitch, this is where the trailer really kicks into modern trailer overdrive.

Flashes of imagery including the PKE meter, Mini Puft mayhem at Wal-Mart, and more quickly breathe in and out. In fact, if this trailer is our Christmas present in July, this is where we’re unwrapping and unpacking what’s inside the box.

But we also get glimpses of a creepy underground temple with some pretty intense architecture and even creepier statue work. Terror dog/human hybrid statues flanking what looks to be a pharaoh with wings. And gaunt peasants all reaching out to it all. Did Sumerians have pharaohs? Or is this something else? Certainly seems like if there were Gozer worshippers out there, this might be a stone tribute to them.

The kids discover the terrifying temple and Trevor gives us an “oh my god” to punctuate as they see what we see.

NICE DOGGY, CUTE LITTLE POOCH

Right about this part of the trailer is where my brain explodes and I’m not sure where to start. Imagery is rapid fire as the shit hits the fan.

Phoebe looks into a cauldron in the temple (where there’s numbers behind her that we’ll have to analyze further at some point). And the cork pops on the bottle. As she does so, there’s a terrifying growl in the background foreshadowing some familiar imagery we’re about to see.

But before we get to that, two incredible things are seen as well: familiar purple PKE trails that look a whole lot like those that explode from the firehouse and converge at Spook Central. And, as Grooberson’s line about New York City looking like “The Walking Dead” is repurposed to sound like he’s talking about Sumerville, there’s an incredible physical creature design sitting at a lunch counter. A half-decomposed cabbie maybe? Wearing a 1970’s collar and neckerchief. To my eye, I’d be willing to bet that’s the work of Arjen Tuiten and his team of creature designers. And it’d make Steve Johnson proud.

Plus it’s such a funny image of this corpse sitting at a lunch counter, and the waiter is pour him coffee like it ain’t no thing. I love it.

Back to man’s worst friend: the terror dogs make several appearances in the trailer. First as a cool half-manifested entity above Groobersen and again chasing the poor guy out of a Wal-Mart. Is Groobersen haunted by these things like Louis Tully? Or is something else going on here?

IN A SPIRITUAL SENSE, OF COURSE

If there was a moment that I expected Ray Parker Jr.’s iconic theme song to kick into full gear, this would have been it. The icing on the cake of the trailer, after we see the dead rising from the grave and all hell breaking loose, is Trevor, Phoebe and Podcast all in the Ecto chasing after what we now know is Muncher. The editorial of this is insanely cool. And we get to see the Remote Trap Vehicle (RTV) deployed from the Ecto and how it’s used in the pursuit of Muncher. We’ve seen the gunner seat, but the beats that this moment in the trailer hit, well…

Goosebumps moment number three.

VENKMAN, WE’RE NOT HOME

After all the debate among friends if there would be a “Chewie, We’re Home” moment in this trailer - where we’d see one of the original Ghostbusters live and in the flesh, we got the perfect tease. As Grooberson, Phoebe and Podcast watch the conclusion of the original 1984 ad, the trailer closes with a phone ringing inside a very familiar looking Occult Book shop.

Tattooed arms (I’ve tried with everything I can to see what the tattoo says) pick up the phone and the familiar voice of Dr. Ray Stantz (Dan Aykroyd) curtly tells whomever is on the other end of that phone that, “We’re closed.” A perfect little tease if you ask me. Let’s save seeing Peter, Ray and Winston on-screen to the main event.

[bibliocratic]

For your writing prompts, I’ve always found that the phrase “for you” has a certain gravity, so maybe something with that? :3

This was such a good prompt, which is my only excuse for why this is three days late and barely counts as a drabble at all.

jonmartin, post-S5 domesticity and parenthood

“He was showing me another room he's made it to on his game,” Jon offers as an explanation as he ambles back into the living room. “Some sort of creepy dungeon, lots of what I can only presume are zombies. He can turn into a dragon now with this magic cloak thing, it's all very sophisticated.”

Martin, whose knowledge and ability with video games both started and ended with having a go on someone's Game Boy Colour one rainy school break, makes a supportive, 'showing-interest' noise as he feels around for the remote before finding it wedged under his thigh, muting the sound of a gritty BBC drama he is clearly not enamoured by. He shuffles over to make room on the sofa. Disturbing the cat, who jumps off his knees, casting a betrayed gaze upon the offender before she haughtily goes to commandeer the high-backed chair usually taken up by Jon.

“Dragons are one of the few things that haven't turned out to actually exist, and tried to murder us.”

“Oh, don't be like that,” Jon smiles as he drops down next to him.  Martin's got a beer out of the fridge now Lewis has gone to bed, and Jon leans forward to snaffle it from the coffee table, takes an  slow sip, winces at the flavour and puts it back down on its coaster. “Swimming's at ten Saturday, isn't it? Still haven't fixed his goggles.”

“Half past, they had to move the rota round for some other thing,” Martin says distantly.  In the background, someone on the TV has their mouth bared in shouting, and some grim-dark poorly shaved detective is holding a gun.

Martin's shoulders are set tight. He's twisting his wedding ring round and round and round, fidgety and unsettled all evening, and now he's leant forward with his elbows on his knees, half-way through a beer on a Thursday night even though he can get funny about drinking in the house on a weekday.

“You want to talk about it?” Jon asks quietly.

Martin frowns, but doesn't ask how he knows. His palm opens from clenched to fold their fingers together, his touch chilly from the condensation on the bottle.

Jon waits for him.

Martin clears his throat. He sources out the remote again and flicks the TV to standby, the dour detective vanishing morosely.

“I'd like to talk to you about something,” Martin replies eventually. “And I know that we're not going to agree on it, but I want you to at least – hear me out, alright?”

“Alright,” Jon says carefully. A frown has rooted on his own face, but he pushes the curious simmer to a lower heat and tries to be patient. “Alright. What – what do you want to talk about?”

“What happened last week.”

“Martin...”

“Let me finish,” Martin says, his tone slightly sharper. He doesn't shout, never in the house. The only time Lewis sees his dad raise his voice in anger, he's belligerently got his hands in the guts of the boiler, pride the only thing stopping him call a plumber, or else he's stubbed his toe against the side table he always manages to catch.

Jon lets out a heavy breath.

“Fine,” he says. “Fine – we – we can talk about it. You know what I think.”

“Yeah, well, I don't.”

“It was an outlier. It doesn't mean there's a conspiracy.”

“I can't see why you're downplaying this. It was a threat, and you got hurt.”

“A few bruises from the fall. Look, Daisy and Basira handled it. They were – they were a lone Hunter. It wasn't anything organised, so I don't see the need to twist myself in knots when it won't happen again.”

Martin scoffs dismissive. “Last I counted, we've had three 'it won't happens again' in the last ten years. Face it, we've been lucky. This one got too close.”

“So what are you suggesting?” Jon says, deliberately calmly. Martin'll get to his point eventually, but he'd rather cut through whatever he's been stewing in for the past several hours.

Martin throws up his hands.

“I am suggesting that we consider the very real possibility that something like this might happen again. Something worse than some mangy Hunter or clueless cultist. These things out there.... there's more than one of them who'd see a former Archivist as a threat, Christ, I just want you to take this seriously...”

“I do take – ” Jon's voice spikes before he exhales hard and lowers his tone again. “Of course I take this seriously. Of course I worry. But if someone came here, if anyone came here, I'd – I'd Know....”

“Knowing didn't stop you from getting hurt,” Martin insists.  “It – it doesn't make you invincible.”

“I've never thought that...”

“We need to prepared, is all I'm saying. Your... the knowledge you get from the Eye, it's so much, it's so much less than before. So what if it's not enough, what if it tells you something too late or not at all?”

“Martin, I'm not going to get myself worked up over maybes.”

“Maybe you should!” Martin snaps.

They are both bullishly quiet for a moment before Martin holds his hands up again.

“Alright,” he presses on, lower pitched than before. “Alright, then lets deal with facts then. Fact number one: there are – there are forces out there that want to see you come to harm.”

“Martin.”

“Am I correct?” Martin repeats. His gaze won't leave Jon's. His temper's made his neck and throat go blotchy, but he's pressing his hands down too hard on his knees to stop their tremors.

Jon meets his eyes.

“Correct,” he says. Because it's what Martin wants to hear, because it's what Jon tries not to think about when the night-time drags loud and sleepless, and every noise he cannot account for takes on the guise of malevolence.

“Fact two,” Martin continues. “There is the possibility – no, no, listen to me, Jon – there is the chance, however small, that those forces, those people, could come here.”

“So what, we should install more locks? Buy more fire extinguishers?”

“This isn't funny,” Martin says waspish.

“I'm not laughing,” Jon replies dogged.

Martin lets out another aggrieved noise. He takes a moment, steeples his hands against the lower half of his face.

“That Hunter,” Martin says slowly. “Had our address on them. Knew where we lived. If Daisy and Basira hadn't sorted them out, they would have come here, and tried again. And if it can happen once, then it could happen again. A-and some of those people, the ones that serve their gods a-and want to make a name for themselves by going after an Archivist – ”

Here Martin's voice catches thready, the centre of his terrors finally excavated.

“I can't – I can't protect you from that, Jon,” he confesses. “I can't protect Lewis from that. And if someone comes here, what if you can't either? You're not – you're not exactly in the game of e-exploding people any more.”

“Been trying to give it up,” Jon replies. Martin's laugh is a little wet.

“Sets a bad example anyway.”

Jon rubs the skin of Martin's hand. He doesn't know what he can say to make this better.

“I would like to propose an idea,” Martin says. Softer now. More tired. “and I-I want you to hear me out.”

“OK.”

“Whatever it is.”

“You're not exactly inspiring confidence.”

Martin gives him a Look.

“OK,” Jon says, rubbing his thumb over Martin's knuckles. “OK, I promise. Whatever it is, I-I'll at least listen.”

Martin nods, and though his lips are pinched, he squeezes Jon's hand once gratefully. He separates them, and gets up, going over to his shoulder bag slouched by the door. He'd been vague, earlier this week, when he'd gone out on an 'errand'.  Jon had assumed it was something to do with their anniversary in the next few weeks.

Martin takes out a thick clump of folders from the stomach of the bag. Jon's heart drops when he sees the green-ink stamp of an imperious owl on the front of the beige folders but he says nothing.

“I have been thinking,” Martin says, planting himself back down. “About back-up plans. Last resorts, you know.  If someone does come here, if they're more than either of us can handle, if we can't keep our son safe.”

He passes Jon the folders. They're stuffed wide with statements, corroborating evidence, photographs, police reports, newspaper snippets attached with paper clips. Jon reads the introductions of a few statements as he flicks through, feeling not a little unmoored by the way this conversation has progressed – Statement of Dai Williams, regarding a library in Blaenau Gwent; Statement of  Michalis Charalambous, regarding an unusual wedding present – and something aches in him like a barely-forgotten hunger, twinges like an old wound.

Near the top of the pile,  there's a photograph, blown up to A4 size, of a book. The backdrop of an unremarkable desk, the cover itself blue backed, scuffed and foxed with age, the silver title decorated with florid curlicues: The Shipping Forecast and Other Nautical Curiosities. There's no author.

“What's this?”

“It's a Leitner,” Martin says. Not briskly, but straight-off the bat.

Jon pushes down several reactions with difficulty. Martin knows how he feels about Leitner. Martin wouldn't bring this to him, knowing what histories have left their scars on him, and beg for Jon to listen to him if it wasn't important.

“Go on,” Jon says, and nothing else.

“This book is currently in Archive Storage, where it's been for the past twenty or so years,”  Martin continues. He's to-the-point now, direct, and Jon appreciates it.  “Those are copies of all the statements I could find related to it, or people who have been in contact with it, and it makes up a fairly consistent picture of ownership and exchange for at least the past hundred and fifty years, records get a bit patchy before that.”

“Which Power?”

“The Lonely.”

That makes Jon look up. Martin's jaw is set for an argument but his voice betrays him.

“Tell me,” he says.

“The statements are all mostly the same. The book gets found or left as inheritance or in library donations, and some poor sod picks it up. Specifically, what happens is it renders people invisible when they read it.”

Jon blinks.

“... you're taking the piss.”

“No. Practical research did some basic experiments to test it before it was boxed up properly, they've – there's notes there, if you want to read in detail, but basically, you read a few lines of it, and you and whatever you're holding can't be seen. It wears off after a while, depending on how much you've read. The researchers went up to about a page.”

“There's a catch, obviously.”

“It's addictive to some people. Some of the people in the statements can use it once, get the heebie-jeebies then never touch it again, some of them can't shake the urge. The – er invisibility is more tempting to those vulnerable to the Lonely, or so the hypothesis goes. They read a little more, a little more and then, they're just gone.”

“So it's dangerous?”

“Yes.”

“Then why? Why show me this?”

“If someone comes here,” Martin says, “If it's – if it's the Vast o-or the Desolation or even th-the Slaughter, we can't fight them. We can't, OK, we-we have nothing that we could fight them with. So we can't fight them, and we can't outrun them, and I don't think hiding under the bed and hoping they leave is going to do much either. The best we can hope for is that we have a few minutes grace courtesy of your magical eyeballs. And that would at the very least give us time, to get Lewis somewhere safe, get out of harm's way, to go to Daisy's or something.”

“And your great plan is that we use a Leitner to what, turn invisible and sneak away unseen?”

“I'm asking you at least consider it.”

“I have considered it and it's – it's a Leitner, Martin! You know how I –  They're not toys, they're dangerous!”

“I know that! Of course I know that. But so is being unprotected! We wouldn't be using it for – it would be a last resort, nothing more. You can read the statements and the reports. I've read them all, over and over again, I-I've checked and doubled checked. As far as I can tell, the turning invisible is a temporary state.”

“For the right people. What about you?”

Martin does not meet his eyes.

“I wouldn't be using it.”

“...What.”

“I wouldn't – I wouldn't be able to,” he says. Quieter, self-conscious. “Much as I like to think that I'm – no. No, it'd be, it'd be too much of a temptation.”

Jon's tone has slipped flat and hard.

“So you're suggesting an escape plan that, what, doesn't include you?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Jon – ”

“No!” Jon wants to get up, to stand, to shake Martin by his ridiculous shoulders, because how dare he, how dare he. “No, how can you even ask me that?”

“Because I need to,” Martin urges. “Because it's not just us. Because if the worst happens, I need to know we have some way of protecting Lewis, that you could use that book to make sure he's safe.”

“And leave you.”

“I'm not the one they want.”

“I don't remember them being all that picky about hurting whoever was in their way,” Jon bites back, and he knows he's louder now, that his eyes are getting wet and his face hot. “You can't know that.”

“No,” Martin replies honestly. “No, I-I can't.”

Jon rubs at his eyes. The anger's boiled over and out of him at a dizzyingly come-down from furious. He listens, wondering if they've woken Lewis, but he doesn't hear the squeak of bed-springs. There's a wind picking up outside, and the cat twitches in sleep.

He doesn't feel angry any more. Just sick and scared.

“That's not fair,” he swallows, looking at the damp-blurred image of his husband's face. “That – that's not fair, to ask this.”

Martin's moved closer. Places his hand back over Jon's.

“I know,” he murmurs, and he sounds sorry, but that doesn't help either of them.  “I know it's not. And if there was – was any other option, I wouldn't even think of suggesting it. But I'd, I'd like you to think about it. Please. For me.”

Jon leafs through the folders in his hands without taking any of them in. Martin strokes his back soothingly, and crowds in too close, not close enough.

“I'll read them,” Jon says eventually. Wetly and unhappily. “ The statements, reports, I-I will. For you. And if – and only if they seem legitimate – I'll come with you and have a look at the book myself. And that's all I can promise you.”

“Thank you,” Martin whispers, and presses his lips to the thinning crown of Jon's hair, Jon leaning back slightly against his chest. He clears his throat. “Basira's all for performing some more clinical tests on the book, if you wanted some more concrete validation.”

“Why am I not surprised,” Jon says, feeling too tired to enquire further.

They linger on the sofa for a while after Martin shoves the folders back into his shoulder bag.

“I better put the dishes away,” Martin says.

“Leave them. I'll do them in the morning.”

Their bedtime routine is closer and quieter. Usually Martin goes up first, and Jon watches the newspaper review or the tail end of a documentary, but tonight he trails after him as Martin checks all the plugs and double-checks all the locks.

Martin pokes his head into Lewis' room, even though they said their goodnights hours ago. Jon can't begrudge him the anxiety.

“Kicked all the blankets off as usual,” he reports back as they knock elbows in the bathroom, Jon's mouth full of toothpaste, passing Martin a water glass to take his statins. Martin dutifully swallows the pill before reaching for his own toothbrush. “He sleeps like you, arms flung out all over the place.”

Jon doesn't deny it.

Jon gets into bed first, and fusses with chargers and alarms while Martin gets into a t-shirt and boxers. He gets the light and Jon follows the sound he makes as he approaches the bed in plunging darkness, the disturbance of the covers. Jon immediately curls against his shape, tucking himself tight and buried against his chest.

Martin doesn't comment on how clingy Jon is, how he knots their legs together, clutches him over-tight. On how hot the bed is going to get, on how his arm will go numb quickly from the angle. His own arms come around just as fiercely. He tells Jon goodnight, that he loves him into his hair, and Jon whispers it back into the dark and the heat, and knows it's true to the bones of him.

Neither of them sleep all that much that night.

[endof-theline]

Day 5- Tropetember: Accidental Confessions

Day 5 of super early Tropetember is a little late but it's a little longer to make up for it! It's the Avengers' one year of being a team party and everyone's drinking but Tony, including everyone's favourite Super Soldiers who decide flirting with Tony would be a great idea... that is until it's not.

On Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32394175

At first it seemed like a great idea, why wouldn’t it? A party to celebrate a year since the team formed, to celebrate everything they’ve done and everything they’ve been through together. Tony had been excited to have the whole team together and having a good time, letting loose and relaxing since Fury had given them the all clear to be off duty for the night and reassured them that SHIELD could take care of anything that popped up. Natasha, Bruce, Thor, Sam, Clint, Wanda, Vision, Steve and Bucky were all ready for a much needed day off and they were excited to have their party as well, it’s not everyday superheroes could relax. Thor even brought Asgardian drinks so that Steve, Bucky and himself could drink with everyone else.

Unfortunately for Tony, he was the only one not drinking since Bruce had decided to join in after Clint pulled out a bottle of whiskey Bruce loved and hadn’t had since before the Hulk’s creation. Tony was fine with not drinking, his friends were either tipsy or drunk but no one was being gross or weird so it was still fun even without a buzz. He smiled at Natasha who shot him a look when she realised that Tony wasn’t going to be drinking and even offered to join him, he didn’t want to drag Natasha into his own problems so he waved her off and told her to have a drink for him instead.

It had been months since Tony had decided to give up drinking and he thought he was doing amazingly well considering that had been his usual escape after practically rough missions, he found that he actually didn’t miss it that much once the majority of the withdrawal had died down. The team had been so proud of him and helped him along the way, the topic had been brought up several times leading up to tonight about them not drinking but everytime Tony waved them off with a smile.

“Tony, I just wanna say how proud I am of you” Steve said as he dropped onto the sofa beside Tony, his arm going around Tony’s shoulders and his grin looked like it hurt with how wide he was smiling “You are doing so amazing and I don’t know how it feels but I imagine tonight has been hard for you, y’know with the drinks”

“Thanks Steve, it’s not too bad since I get to see you guys having a great time” Tony smiled back up to him, that annoying feeling in his chest returned as he looked up to the drunken hero. Tony had fallen hard for the Captain and had never had the courage to act on any of it, good thing too since when they rescued Bucky it barely lasted a month before the super soldiers were dating and poor Tony just had to smile through the pain as he just as quickly fell for Bucky.

“It’s been so long since I’ve got to have a drink and not worry about anything” Steve mumbled as he let his head lol towards Tony’s and when Tony went to speak up, Steve just popped his head back up and looked around before spotting Bucky talking with Natasha “I think it was in the war, having drinks with Buck after getting him back, s’kinda the same feeling”

“Well, I’m glad you’re having a good time” Tony chuckled and tried to catch anyone’s eye to get him up and away from Steve, only managing to catch Bucky’s which he took as an invitation to come over as well “Speak of the devil”

“Aw, you talking about me, doll” Bucky teased as he sat down on the other side of Tony, leaning into him as he smiled at the pair “Nat was just telling me ‘bout the parties you used to have”

“Oh, was she?” Tony asked as he shot a glare over to redhead who just lifted her glass up to him before turning to talk to Clint with a smirk “What did she tell you?”

“She said that they were massive and usually ended up in the news” Bucky snickered as Steve started to giggle as well while Tony had to take a deep breath “She said that’s how it came out that you like men”

“That would be true” Tony nodded along, he had been planning on coming out on his own terms but had thrown a party where he was photographed kissing a few of the guys and it was immediately leaked that he had taken one of them to bed “People took pictures of me and some guys at one of my parties messing around and they forced it into the media earlier than I wanted”

Bucky and Steve’s mood shifted so fast that Tony almost got whiplash for them, they had been laughing but as soon as Tony explained what happened they grew upset and angry. Tony guessed it was a bigger deal for them to have been outed than it was for Tony, he assumed it was because of their background even though the pair were out and proud.

“Tony, I’m so sorry” Bucky suddenly seemed a lot more sober than seconds ago as guilt washed over Tony, he had completely ruined the mood for them.

“Oh it’s fine, I almost expected it to happen and besides it was years ago, pre-Iron Man times” Tony waved his hand and smiled at them, the smile faltered when neither of them smiled back at him “Seriously you guys, my life isn’t very private and that’s the way it’s always been so I’m more than used to it”

“That doesn’t make it alright, Tony” Steve stressed and had that look on his face that screamed Steve wanted to hurt everyone who had wronged him, it was a look Steve wore whenever Tony spoke about his past “Just because you’re used to it, doesn’t mean you should expect not to have privacy”

“I appreciate the disapproval Cap, but it’s fine, I’m done worrying about the press in my life” Tony lied as he kept smiling and shaking his head, praying to any Gods out there that they would drop the topic “Besides, this is a celebration, you guys should be having fun!”

“We could have some fun” Bucky purred in Tony’s ear making the genius swallow thickly, his ears going pink in an instant as Bucky’s hand landed on his knee.

“Think that comment is directed to you there, Steve” Tony chuckled as he moved to sit up but Steve’s hand tightened on his shoulder to keep him in place, Tony looked over to the blonde to see the heated look in his eyes as he smirked at Tony.

“It wasn’t, Buck and I agree” Steve’s voice was lower and deeper than usual, Tony’s eyes flicked over to Bucky and received the same heated look he got from Steve in return “Ain’t that right, Buck?”

“Mhm, don’t you wanna have some fun with us, doll?” Bucky asked as his Brooklyn accent thickened, same as Steve’s, as the pair moved to press closer and Tony tried to ignore how fast his heart was beating. Tony had had dreams that started like this, he knew where they led and he wasn’t stupid either. They were both drunk, he could smell it on their breath and see it in their flirty looks that were a little dazed or lopsided, and as much as Tony wanted this he wasn’t going to take advantage of them like this. Never like this, no matter what the papers had said when he was twenty five.

“Please don’t do this” Tony whispered as he scrunched up his eyes, he couldn’t believe he was doing this. He had wanted these men for months and would have done to hear this anytime except from right now.

“Why not? Just some harmless fun between teammates, right?” Bucky’s hand had slid to his thigh and Steve’s had snuck under his collar so his hand rested on Tony’s bare shoulder, the heat of his palm felt like it was burning him instead of comforting like it had been.

“Just don’t, not now” Tony pleaded as his eyes scanned the room, hoping that no one was taking notice so he didn’t ruin the rest of the night for everyone else. Tony couldn’t say that hearing that Bucky just thought it was ‘just some harmless fun’ as teammates didn’t sting his heart, this didn’t mean a thing to him and he was just doing it because he was drunk.

“Give us a reason, why can’t we have some fun, Tony?” Steve pressed on and Tony swore he tried, he tried so hard not to say anything, but both men were in his space and saying things Tony had dreamt of hearing, things that had comforted him in his lowest moments and he couldn’t have it and he knew it meant nothing to them.

Tony ripped himself from their grasp, standing up and whirling to face them as he snapped “BECAUSE I’M IN LOVE WITH BOTH OF YOU!” before he realised what he had blurted out, his eyes filling with tears because of course Tony Stark can’t have a secret “Fuck, forget what I said”

Tony ran. He did what he knew best and ran, he only ran back to his workshop but he locked everything down and dived for the cot as he let himself cry out his heartbreak. He covered his ears as Steve and Bucky banged on the door and shouted at him, he wished they had just ignored him or at least didn’t want to take their anger out on him. Tony pulled the blanket over him and covered his head with it so he could try and block out everything else, the light of the arc reactor soothed him as he sobbed until he passed out with Steve and Bucky still pounding away at his door.

No one saw Tony for two days and on the third, it was hard to recognise him as the Tony they knew. Tony was dressed up in a suit, looking picture perfect with his hair styled and goatee trimmed exactly, sunglasses covered his eyes as he carried a briefcase in one hand, his knuckles almost going white with his tight grip. Natasha knew this man, she recognised him as Tony before the team, the one under Obidiah’s thumb, this was the media version of Tony Stark.

“Tony, Bucky and I nee-” Steve tried to stop him, hand outstretched and looking hurt when Tony dodged it with ease.

“No need, Cap, in a few hours I’ll be on the other side of the country. Rhodes is taking over my position as Iron Man and Pep’s handling SI over here, Fury’s agreed to it and Pepper’s not happy but hell, she’ll probably enjoy not having me be so useless” Tony held his hand out to interrupt Steve who just stared at Tony in shock, the rest of the team gathering as Tony spoke “I’m sorry for fucking up, I should have kept my mouth shut or just gone with it, I’ll see you around… well no, I won’t actually, I’m not planning on coming back”

“You can’t just leave!” Bucky protested as he came to stand beside Steve, looking equally hurt as the blonde.

“Actually I can, I am in fact, now I gotta go or I’ll miss my flight. Glad I could stick around for a year before I fucked up” Tony laughed but it was humorless and no one else was laughing with him, in fact all of them just looked sad “Cheer up, things will be better without me, you guys are always complaining about shit I do so you should be happy!”

“Tony, that’s not-, we-, you-” Steve stammered helplessly as Tony just raised an eyebrow at him questioningly, Steve and Bucky shared a look before Bucky nodded at him and suddenly Steve was there, cupping his cheeks and kissing him. Steve kissed him deeply, not caring that Tony wasn’t reacting, his hands were cupping his cheeks and his body was pressed up against Tony’s, stealing his breath away.

“Steve, what-?” Tony tried to ask but Steve stepped away for Bucky to take his place, his hands going to Tony’s hair instead and kissing him just as deep and intensely as Steve had. Tony’s body caught up as his body sagged slightly and tears came to his eyes when Bucky stepped away from him “What are you doing?”

“We love you too” Steve said and Tony’s world crashed down around him. For the last two days, Tony had convinced himself that the whole team hated him, Steve and Bucky especially, and that the world would be better off if he just disappeared.

Tony stumbled away from them, almost tripping over his own feet as he stared at the team that were all staring back at him as his reality broke. He wanted to run, he wanted to escape again so when he went to run Bucky grabbed his arm and pulled him back instead, pulling him into a hug and moving with Tony when his knees buckled and he dropped to the floor. Steve knelt down beside them and moved Tony’s glasses off his face to show the tears that were now streaming down his face, his body shaking as he tried to remember how to breathe.

“Sweetheart, take some nice deep breaths for me” Steve comforted him and wiped back the tears, only for them to be replaced seconds later “It’s alright, Tony, you’re okay”

“No I’m not, you’re meant to hate me!” Tony shouted as he pulled at his hair, frustrated that everything had changed, nothing was going to his plan and he didn’t know what to do about it. He didn’t want them to hate him, but it made leaving a lot easier if that’s what they wanted from him.

“We couldn’t be farther away from it” Bucky said softly while he pushed Tony’s hands away and started to comb his fingers through Tony’s hair instead, the soft touches helping the headache that was building up but not helping his heart “We love you, and there’s no way in hell that we could hate you”

They let Tony cry himself out before trying to talk to him sensibly, just a lot of soft words and soothing touches until Tony had worn himself out from crying and was just curled into Bucky’s chest as his breathing stopped being so ragged and his heart stopped pounding quite so hard.

“We love you, Tony, and we’ll tell you everyday if we have too” Bucky whispered in his ear before Steve kissed his cheek and repeated Bucky in a whisper in his other ear, the pair not needing to look at each other to know that it was a promise that they were going to keep until Tony no longer needed to hear it from them everyday and then continuing it because they wanted to make sure Tony always knew he was loved.

It took a lot of conversations, a lot of tears, a lot of traded kisses and touches to finally persuade Tony that they weren’t lying to him, that they really did love him and that they wanted to be with him. Once Tony knew it and was feeling more secure where he stood, the change in him amazed the team since most of them had never seen him so happy. Of course there will still be bad days, but now Tony wasn’t alone and he had two soldiers to help protect him against the bad thoughts and nightmares.

Tony woke up every morning between Steve and Bucky with a kiss and a whispered confession of love, and every morning Tony blushed and whispered back:

“I love you too”

[reilly310]

The “eyes” have it

Did you know?

A study, conducted at the University of Glasgow in 2013, found that Eye Reflections in Photos Can Reliably Identify Who's Behind the Lens.

To test how effective a mirror the cornea was, researchers took passport-style photos of college students in a lab setting. Bystanders were placed a few feet away, facing the subjects, while the photos were being taken. When the researchers zoomed in on the subjects' eyes in the photos, they were able to see pixelated versions of the bystanders' faces.

  “...the scientists found that study participants could correctly identify most of those tiny faces. When the bystanders were strangers, participants could correctly match a pixelated photo with a higher-quality headshot 71 percent of the time. When the reflected faces were people the participants knew, the rate of successful identification jumped to 84 percent. “

In this study, the researchers used a high resolution camera (39 megapixels).  As a result, their reflections were clearer than what the average cellphone camera would produce under the same conditions (The 2016 IPhone 7, for example, has a resolution of 12 megapixels).  The study concluded, though, that, if the viewer knew the person reflected, they could identify them even when the picture was blurry.

“Previous psychological research has established that humans can identify faces from extremely poor quality images, when they are familiar with the faces concerned. For example, [the researchers] found that viewers could identify blurred photographs of familiar faces with equivalent image resolutions as low as 7×10 pixels.”

Identifiable Images of Bystanders Extracted from Corneal Reflections 

The researchers used a pixelated image of Barack Obama as their example. 

For our fandom, the equivalent would be a pixelated image of this guy.

Subjects in the study were reflected in a human’s eye.  If a human eye, with a cornea measuring approx 11.5 mm in diameter, can capture reflections, imagine what a cat’s cornea, measuring 16.5 mm in diameter, might reveal.

Maybe we don’t have to just imagine, though.....

Say a cat (we’ll call her Eddie) received a jaunty Christmas bell collar in December 2016 that she felt was beneath her dignity to wear.

She may have felt compelled to glare at the person (or people) responsible for said gift as they were taking her picture.

Let’s take a look and see if we can identify, with at least reasonable certainty, who she might have been plotting revenge against looking at.

Original picture posted by Cait on 12/25/2016

The picture has been cropped and enlarged below with the most prominent reflection (person #1) on Eddie’s left eye, circled.

Below, the image has been further cropped and enlarged, again with the reflection circled. Tilt your head just a bit to the left.  Do you see it yet?

If not, no worries.  In the following gif, I’ve tinted the reflection with sepia and enhanced the image using contrast and lighting tools (from a free, online site..nothing fancy).  At the end of the gif, I’ve removed the background to show only the reflected face.

Now that we have an enhanced face of person #1, is there a reflection of person #2?  Though it’s harder to see, I happen to think so.

Below I’ve gifed the progression of highlighting person #2.  I used the same photo enhancement tools as with person #1 (sepia tint, contrast and lighting) but also added color tints for the phone (white) and sleeves (red).  ( Note:  I can’t say for sure that she’s wearing a shirt with long sleeves, but I wanted to break up the monotony of the sepia tones, in part to make it easier for you to distinguish the hand that’s covering part of her face from her face itself.)

As the image emerges below, you will first see her arms/hands and phone and then her face/hair.

Next, similar to what the University of Glasgow researchers did in their study, let’s compare the reflections to an actual picture of the likely subject. 

Person #1 appears to have a beard, or at least several days worth of facial hair, and he’s wearing glasses. (Though appearing dark-tinted in the reflection, these would be regular glasses.) His hair is light in color and looks longish on top with some curl there and over his ear.  His overall appearance seems casual/scruffy, like he’s a man on hiatus from work, hanging out at home “sort of personally” with his cat and...well...his Cait.

Here is the reflection side-by-side with a picture of scruffy Sam from a more recent hiatus.

And here, I overlay the two images.

Moving on to person #2, here’s a side-by-side of her reflection with a recent picture of Cait.  (I flipped the 2019 picture so that her head was tilted in the same direction as the one in the 2016 reflection.)   I didn’t overlay these images, but Cait being there is a pretty safe bet.  After all, she took/posted the picture.

Like Sam, Cait appears to be wearing glasses in the reflected image with one lens visible and the other blending in with her dark hair color. 

In summary:

The picture of Eddie was taken in a less ideal setting, in terms of lighting, and with a lower resolution camera (likely an Iphone with 12 megapixels) than those taken in the University study.

Despite this, images of two faces can be seen reflected in Eddie’s eye.

As in the study, the “bystanders” (Sam and Cait in this case) were close to the “subject” of the photo (Eddie).  How can I deduce this?  Because pictures of the “pancake kitchen”,  where this picture was taken, were posted on a public realty site when the flat was for sale, so the layout of the kitchen is known.  ( *See “re-enactment” photo ...term used loosely here...below.)

Because I am very familiar with their faces, I am able to recognize that the images reflected in Eddie’s eye bear a strong resemblance to Sam and Cait and, therefore, conclude with reasonable certainty that it is them. 

Reflections aside, the cat collar always screamed “picked out by Sam” to me.

* “Re-enactment” picture

It probably won’t come as a surprise that the idea to do this “re-enactment” came to me in the early morning hours on a night I had insomnia.  I combined both the reflected faces and Cait’s reflected hands/arms with stick figure art, found online, for their bodies. The result is...well...not art .. but a cute, if a bit silly, rendition of the scene showing you approximately where SC would have been in relation to Eddie. 

It’s not perfectly accurate, of course.  In reality...

SC were likely sitting at Eddie’s level or at least crouched down to it.

Eddie was sitting on that location of the table but turned toward SC.

Based on the size of his reflection vs Cait’s, Sam’s face was probably a bit closer to Eddie than Cait’s was when the picture was snapped. 

Sam was probably not wearing a necktie and was (probably?) wearing pants. ☺ (Cait would so wear that dress, though.)

As an aside, even though there’s no proof of where Sam’s arms are from the reflection, I like that his stick figure arm just couldn’t help but go around Cait’s shoulder.  Art imitating life.

So there you have it.  Do you see what I see?  Don’t see it?  See it, but don’t want to believe it?  I respect all opinions, but this is meant to be something fun to speculate about (Remember fun?  I know it’s rare in our fandom these days.), so maybe give that a try or, if not, scroll on by. 

[you-can-call-me-wanda]

Truth Or Dare

Pairing: Sami Yaffa x Reader

Author’s Note: I feel like this is a super stereotypical idea, but oh well. I wrote this while dog-tired and suffering a headache so sorry if it’s not the best!

“(Y/N)! Sami! Come on already!”

You let out a laugh as you walked into the living room, balancing a bowl of popcorn and a six pack of beer in your arms. “Alright, alright. We’re coming. Sheesh,” you said to the four boys who were waiting anxiously for you and Sami’s return from the kitchen.

Nasty, Michael, Razzle, and Andy all sat cross-legged on the dingy carpet. Nasty had broken the sofa the week prior in a drunken mishap so now you and all your roommates were left having to sit on the floor until you could afford to buy a new couch.

“What’s the rush?” you asked, handing out snacks to the four impatient boys and taking a seat on the floor as well.

“We wanna play a game,” Andy said, his grin mischievous.

“What kind of game?” A voice asked from behind you. Sami had just entered the room, carrying more beers and food from the kitchen.

“Truth or dare!” Nasty and Andy shouted in unison.

“Oh please,” Michael said. “How old are you?” He was smiling though, and you had no doubt he wanted to play the game too. Nasty just stuck out his tongue in response.

“Alright,” you agreed. “I’ll play.” You turned to Sami who had taken a seat next to you. “How bout you Sami? Are you in?”

Sami flushed slightly under your gaze. It was no secret that the boy had a huge crush on you. Even if Nasty and Andy and Razzle hadn’t told you months ago, it would be obvious. Sami always acted so shy around you, blushing and fumbling over his words. He also used every excuse under the sun to spend more time with you. That was probably why he’d volunteered so eagerly to help you grab stuff from the kitchen earlier.

“If you’re playing, I’ll play too,” he said softly.

You smiled at him sweetly and ignored Nasty and Andy’s giggling and mock gagging noises. You always found Sami’s behavior adorable. His crush never bothered you.

“I’ll explain the rules,” Andy said, capturing everyone’s attention.

“What rules?” Razzle asked with a quirked brow. “It’s just truth or dare.”

Andy sighed dramatically. “Well, these are my rules,” he explained. “Rule one, if you refuse a dare or a truth then you have to face the punishment that the group decides upon beforehand.”

“Punishment?” you questioned, a little fearful of what you had just agreed to play.

“Yeah, like you’ll have to dress in drag for the next gig and do a strip tease in the middle of the set if you refuse to answer the question or complete the dare.”

Five pairs of eyes blinked at Andy.

“That’s very… specific,” Michael said, finally breaking the silence that had fallen over the room. “How about whoever won’t do something has to do the dishes?”

Everyone let out a groan. The dishes were a huge issue in your flat. There was a giant stack of them in the kitchen sink that spilled out onto the surrounding countertop. In the almost six months you and the boys had lived here, you couldn’t remember a time when any plates or bowls or spoons had been cleaned. It was the source of a lot of arguments, but the stack of dirty kitchenware was too big for anyone to take initiative and clean them.

“That will work!” Andy said, almost a little too excited. There was no way in hell anyone would be refusing a dare or truth now.

You all mumbled your agreement as Andy continued explaining the game.

“Rule two, the person who last received a dare or a question is the next person to ask. Okay?”

“Okay Andy, we get it,” Nasty whined. “Can we just start already?”

“Fine,” Andy huffed. “I’ll go first.” He looked around the room, trying to decide on his victim. “Michael.” He stopped at the blonde boy. “Truth or dare?”

Michael pursed his lips as he thought. “Um, truth.”

You all booed at him. Nasty threw the cap of his bottle at his head.

“What?” he asked, taken aback by your strong reaction to his choice of truth.

“Truth is boring!” Razzle proclaimed.

“Well, I’m not going to change my mind,” Michael said, crossing his arms. “I’m not gonna take a dare from Andy of all people.”

Andy frowned. “Let’s see,” he said, thinking of a good question to ask Michael. “Hmmm. Oh, I know! Have you ever tried to take a sexy photograph of yourself?”

From the way Andy was grinning and Michael was blushing you had a feeling Andy already knew the answer.

Michael glared at Andy. “Yes,” he muttered through gritted teeth. “You said you wouldn’t tell anyone about that.”

By now, everyone was howling with laughter.

“You took sexy photos of yourself?” Razzle cried out. “What were you wearing?”

“None of your damn business!” Michael snapped. “(Y/N), truth or dare?” he asked quickly, eager to move onto another round of the game.

“Dare,” you said once you finished laughing, excited and up for whatever challenge Michael sent your way. Nasty whooped at your answer.

Michael tapped his chin, trying to think of something good. Razzle leaned over and whispered something in his ear which made him smile and nod. “Good idea. (Y/N), I dare you to go over to the neighbor’s house and ask if they have any condoms.”

“Michael,” you scolded. “Our neighbor is like ninety years old.”

“I know,” Michael said, proud of the dare he had given you even though Razzle was the one who came up with the idea.

You sighed but rose to your feet. A dare was a dare and there was no way you were going to be washing the dishes. You marched out the front door followed by the rest of the household who were excited to see you ask an elderly lady for a condom.

You knocked on your neighbor’s door and looked back to your friends who were standing a ways away to avoid being spotted. Soon after, the door opened.

Your neighbor looked like she was just about to go to bed. She was wearing a nightgown and slippers and her hair was put up into curlers. You fidgeted nervously as she greeted you.

“Oh, hello dear,” she said, peering through her glasses at you. “What can I do for you?”

“Um,” you started. You cleared your throat. “I was just wondering if I could borrow, a um, a condom?” You cringed as you asked her.

“I’m sorry dear, you’ll have to speak up. I already took out my hearing aids for the night.”

You groaned internally. Michael was so going to pay for this. You forced a polite smile onto your face. “I was just wondering if you have a condom I could borrow?” you practically shouted at her.

This time you were pretty sure she heard you. Her kind expression morphed into one of offense. She quickly shut the door in your face without another word.

You returned to your so-called friends who were laughing their asses off. “Ha, very funny,” you said bitterly. Nasty swung an arm around your shoulder as you all went back inside the flat.

“That was amazing!” he said, wiping a tear from his eye.

You shrugged his arm off of you. “Let’s keep playing,” you grumbled. “Razzle, truth or dare?”

 ****

The game continued on for almost an hour. Andy stood on his head for five minutes, Razzle admitted to crying after he lost his virginity, and Nasty ate a pickle covered in mayonnaise. The game was actually proving to be a lot of fun. The six of you came up with some pretty creative ways to try and embarrass each other.

It was now Razzle’s turn. He had just been forced by Andy to smell everyone else’s armpits and rate them from best to worst (you were proud to have won best smelling underarms), so he was not a happy camper. He was looking forward to making someone else suffer.

“Sami,” he drawled out slowly. “Truth or dare?”

You watched Sami as he debated which to choose. “Um, I’ll choose dare,” he said, sending a quick glance your way.

He had been doing that all night. It was nothing new for Sami to be constantly looking over to you. You thought it was cute that he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of you for more than a couple minutes.

“I dare you to kiss (Y/N).”

“What?” you exclaimed after Razzle’s words registered in your head. “You want us to what?”

You risked a glance at Sami who was staring at you with his jaw hanging down. His skin turned a lovely shade of red as Nasty and Andy and Michael began to tease him.

“You have to kiss for at least three minutes,” Razzle instructed, clearly loving how uncomfortable poor Sami and you looked. “With tongue,” he added for extra measure.

You turned to fully face Sami who was looking a little terrified. “It’s alright,” you said. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“Yes, he does!” Andy interjected. “Or he has to do the dishes.”

You glared at Andy and were about to argue but the feeling of Sami’s hand on yours stopped you.

“Is it okay with you?” Sami asked quietly, so only you and he could hear.

Your breath caught in your throat. “Uh, yeah,” you managed to stammer out. For as long as Sami had obviously been crushing on you, you had never really expected him to make a move. He always seemed too shy. Now that Razzle had dared him to kiss you, you were quite nervous.

Sami licked his lips before hesitantly placing a hand on the back of your head. You couldn’t help but stare at his mouth as he slowly leaned in towards you.

You could faintly hear the other boys laughing and commenting as yours and Sami’s lips finally locked, but it was all garbled background noise to you. Sami’s kiss was gentle even as he parted his lips slightly and poked at yours with the tip of his tongue. You wrapped your arms around his neck and scooted closer to him as your lips moved together in blissful harmony. It felt like electricity was flowing through your veins as the kiss went on. You found yourself wanting it to go on forever.

“Okay! That’s three minutes!” Razzle shouted, ending it all way too soon for your liking.

You and Sami parted, breathless. His lips were swollen and glistened with saliva. You thought the sight was beautiful. You stared into his eyes, not paying any mind to what the others were saying.

“Wow,” you said to Sami, not knowing how to put into words how magical your kiss shared with him had been for you.

“Yeah,” Sami said breathily, agreeing with you.

“Maybe,” you said. “Maybe, we could do that again sometime.”

Sami smiled at you and ducked his head. “Yeah, that, we should do that.”

You chuckled. “How about right now? We could go upstairs.” You were eager to have his lips back on yours.

Sami bit his lip nervously but got up and nodded, nonetheless. He offered you a hand a pulled you up to join him standing. The two of you finally addressed the other people in the room.

“Well, I think (Y/N) and I are gonna have an early night,” Sami said.

Razzle, Michael, Nasty, and Andy gaped at him.

“Are you serious?” Razzle asked. The dare had been meant to embarrass Sami, not ignite some weird spark of attraction from you.

Neither you nor Sami answered him though. The two of you were already giggling like children as you ran up the stairs hand in hand.

[daniel-watson-photography]

Evaluation Seeing the light

Evaluation questions

What was the project theme and what did you think of it?

The project theme seeing the light was set to challenge us and our use of light, we had certain parameters for each shoot we had to follow and during that we had to explore our use of light and modify it in our preferred way. In concept I really liked this idea but in practice I struggled heavily with it.

What part of the project did you enjoy the most/found most interesting (preproduction, production or postproduction)?

Overall my favourite part of the project was probably the pre production as I currently don’t have Photoshop so I had to look to alternative methods for editing it was fun learning a different editing software and I am a really big fan of the colour correction edits I did.

What new techniques have you experienced?

I enjoyed the modulating aspect of the brief I bought myself a light reflector which I used for 2 out of 4 shoots.

What technique would you like to develop further?

I’d like to develop my understanding of the use of a flag more I barely used one over the course of this project with no final image featuring them.

Which photographers did you research throughout this project?

Although i didn’t end up taking much from him besides my shoot 4 image i searched up David Bailey and did some research on his work and how he used light in his images.

How have they influenced your photographs?

In shoot 4 of my project I had to shoot on a cloudy day so for a low viewpoint image i adjusted my aperture to make the clouds look like a completely white background very similar to David Baileys most famous shooting style of a bright white background.

Which technique did you enjoy the most?

I enjoyed using filters the most as i had to improvise since i didn’t own coloured gels i waited for the sun to be at its brightest and held a dark red umbrella up above the model and as the sun shone through it left a red filter cast over the models face.

 What do you feel is the most successful part of your project and why?

I’m very proud of how my first shoot 1 I feel I created some very visually and technically impressive images that i will definitely be putting in a folio of my overall work to show others.

Did you encounter any problems in your project? How did you learn from them and how did they affect your final images?

My main problem to do with shooting was the weather, due to the time of year I would check the weather see I have a few hours of sunshine, travel to the area I’m shooting to discover it was either too cloudy or it had started raining, this happened multiple times over the course of the shoot and while it may be done to me and poor planning it was quite frustrating overall to the point one day of shooting i had to bring a flashlight until the sun actually came out so i could at the very least simulate shots which i felt was a smart fix for my problem until the sun actually came out and i could shoot with it.