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hobbitsnapes · 4 years

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The Red Hoods Protègè chapter 20

Older Damian Wayne x ofc

(Photo made by my lovely friend @iamhollows)

Summary:Red Hood has taken a young vigilante under his wing and subsequently changes Damians life forever.

Tags: @comic-nerd-dc @comic-brew @psychovigilantewrites @psych0crybaby

Her feet screamed in pain as she walked into the cave, each step growing more tiresome than the last.

It was a long night, going from 9 to 5 in the morning. The sun hadn’t rose from the sky yet, not for another hour or more. The first 3 hours was nothing but sit and wait, the cold November air shaking to her core as she sat and prayed that they would just hurry along.

At midnight was when they finally came, her patients slim to none due to the freezing temperature.

She managed to get the information and take out majority of the men with little bloodshed.

The next 6 hours was spent delivering the information to her fathers bunker, where he sadly wasn’t there to meet her. Also managing to stop 3 robberies, 2 hit and runs, and stopping an elderly man from being jumped.

The night had been fairly uneventful, that was until her bike halted mid way to the manor. She swore up and down for half an hour as she walked her bike back to the manor, through the storm that conveniently hit when she started walking back.

A groan leaves her as she peels her suit from her body, her muscles sore from having walked from the middle of the city back home.

A hiss breaks the silence as she feels a sharp pain in her right shoulder blade. Feeling behind her and wincing when she felt the small drop of blood.

Her scars had almost completely heeled over the years, no longer open wounds that would always scream out in pain. But once in a while, when she might have swong her arms wrong, some of the deeper scars would slightly open up.

It was nothing major, nothing that required stitches or immediate care. Just a clean and a bandage

A tear slips past her eye when she saw where it was, the largest j scar on her shoulder was slightly dripping, reminding her of the first time she saw them.

A gasp leaves her as she looks in the mirror in horror, sobs wrecking through her as she fell to her knees. Raw skin and stitches barley healing covered her shoulders, some of the skin being completely gone and looking like chunks were missing. The skin was red, some lighter and darker as blood dries along all the wounds.

She knew it was bad, the excruciating pain that she constantly felt a clear sighn that it was going to be large. But nothing could prepare for the mangled skin of her back that once was scar free.

Her heart throbbed in pain as she yells out in anguish. Her sobs breaking as she passes out on the dirty bathroom floor.

She wipes away her tear as she grabs for the alcohol, sucking in a deep breath before squirting the liquid on the cut.

A hiss breaks out as the burning consumes her shoulder, trying to steady her breath. Once the pain subsided, she patted the skin dry and applied the large bandage to the cut, finally turning away from the mirror and walking back to her room.

The sharp air hit her skin almost immediately, sending a wave of goosebumps to erupt from her skin.

It was snowing, quite lightly in fact. The ground barley had a layer of the fine white snowflakes over it, like a sheet covering a bed.

Her feet walked along the ground, watching each step as to not slip. Looking around the vast garden as the small flakes made a beautiful picture. This is what she wished winter could be. But alas, it would only be a matter of weeks before a thick layer of snow blanketed every inch of the beautiful garden. Rendering it near impossible to venture out past the lines of the old manor.

She walked out past the large tree, over past the small patch of plain grass to, a walkway?

She had never seen this before, a path through the thick forest.

She walked into it, seeing the footprints in the almost frozen dirt. She bent down to look, noticing the size difference between hers and the prints.

The wide space between each prints indicates running, and the almost perfectly pristine prints showed it was from today. But who would be out running today? Then she remembered.

She watched as he walked by her open door, a plain under armour shirt with tight sports shorts. He didn’t glance once at her, his permanent furrowed brow on his blank face.

But why would he be running this morning? He hadn’t gone in weeks, preferring to exorcise in the cave as of late.

She decided to stop it and continue walking, ignoring the prints as best as she could.

She came to a stop when she spotted it, no more than a hundred feet in front of her was a pond. It looked almost perfect, no trash, no leaves or grass, only a few lily pads scattered around.

A laugh bubbles out of her when she sees a family of ducks in the pond. She walks up to them, careful as to not scare them. She notices one in the back who was having trouble swimming with the others, flapping its small wings around and trying to keep up. She reaches over to the little one, petting the little bird with the pads of her fingers. “Hey little guy.” She cooes, watching as the small duck shakes it’s soaking body.

She reaches out, grabbing one of the lily pads, and sets him on the pad. “There we go little guy.”

She watched as he sits on the pad as if it’s a ride, a smile on her face at the sight.

Neither one noticed each other when they walked down the hall in opposite directions. Colliding into one another, making them jump and look up, pains igniting in their chests. They just stood there like dear in headlights, both not knowing what to say. Should he say something? Should she apologize? Neither said anything as they looked away, walking back down the hall, their eyes slightly glossing.

She ran down the steps as fast she could, her heart pounding out of her chest as she nearly misses a step.

She runs through the door and barrels over to her dad, running up and latching onto him like a koala bear. He picks her up, laughs bubbling out of him as he spins her around. “I thought you said you’d be here tomorrow?” She says, muffled by his chest. “Welll, I kinda lied cause I wanted to surprise you.” He laughs, letting go of her.

They hadn’t seen one another for about a week, having trouble not only finding the time but a way to get there. Jasons motorcycle had been in the shops for a few weeks, having engine problems that even he couldn’t fix. He’d use his car, but had forgotten to get it inspected.

She hears him before she sees him, the smoothness of his voice a stark contrast to Bruce’s gruff and raspy tone.

A gasp leaves her when she sees him, the tall man in blue jeans, a red flannel and smooth jet black hair and blue eyes.

Jason looks behind him, seeing his daughters hundred yard stare. A laugh bubbles out of him when he sees she’s looking at Clark. He can’t help but find it funny, he remembers the day he met the man of steel for the first time, mirroring the same look as her.

“Robin, meet Superman.” Bruce says to the young boy, a smile on his usually cold face. Jasons heart drops in his stomach when he sees him, nearly at his waist.

Clark bends down to the young boy, a fond smile on his face. “Hi Robin.” He says, extending his hand. Jason shakily resigns the favor, feeling the impressive grip from the kryptonian. “H-hi Superman.” He shakily says back. A chuckle leaving from the man at his shyness.

He smiles at the fond memory, looking back at her and seeing she has the same look as before. “Wanna go meet him?” Her head whips to her father at his question. Eyes wide like a deer in headlights. “Are you kidding? That’s Superman!” She whispers. A large laugh leaving him at her statement. He lightly grabs hold of her shoulder, slowly walking her over to him. “He’s not as scary as you’d think. I was exactly like this when I met him.”

Her heart beats so loudly she is sure he can hear it even without his heightened senses. An awestruck look on her face when she gets closer. Jason walks behind her, a hand still softly planted on her shoulder.

Clarks head turns when they both walk up, a large smile on his face when he recognizes Jason. “Well if it isn’t Jason Todd.” He says, pulling the now grown up man into a hug. “Nice to see you too Clark.”

Both men pull apart and look down at her, Jason having trouble keeping a chuckle in at her face. Her eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. “And this must be that daughter of yours.” Clark chuckles, making her face erupt in red. “Nice to meet you, I’m Clark.” He says, extending his hand to her, like he did to her father all those years ago. “Y-you’re Superman.” She stammers. Making all three of the men laugh. She doesn’t even acknowledge his hand as she stares at him. “That I am.” He chuckles, finding her look of pure awe Endearing. “I-I remember seeing you fly once when I was 4. My parents said it was a fever dream.” She says, making each of the men laugh so hard they held their stomachs.

“What do you do if you’re in the middle of flying and you have to pee? Like I’m talking no holding it you gotta pee NOW?” She asks, making him laugh. “You know, I’ve been asked many questions over the years. But none like that.” “Well it’s a genuine question that I’ve had for years now. I mean it must happen at least once in your life?” He can’t help the laugh leaving him. “Alright fine, once in a while it does. And what I’ll do is find the nearest body of water, and apologize to Arthur.” He chuckles.

“What does it look like up there? Does everyone look small like ants?” She asks, face resting in her pals as she lays on the couch in her stomach. “It’s, hard to describe. And you haven’t been up in the sky before to know?” He asks, “I mean, I’ve been on top of buildings before so kind of?” She replies. “Wait so you’ve never been in the air before? Even gliding with a cape?” She sighs at his question, looking down at her hands. “I don’t have the same gear as Bruce or the robins. The closest I’ve come to is gliding with a grappling hook, but I’m more so looking in front of me rather than below.” She replies. A smile breaking on his face at her confession. “Come on then, I’ve got something I think you’ll like.”

Both of them stand outside of the manor, watching as everyone but her father walks out. “Um, what’s going on?” Tim asks, seeing Clark wrapping his arms around her. “Taking her on a trip like I did for all you kids.” Clark replies, a smile on both their faces. He looks down at her, feeling her hands gripping onto him as hard as she can. “You’ll be safe, I’ve done this for all of them.” He whispers, calming her stammering heart slightly.

“Alright you ready?” He asks. She shakes her head yes, legs slightly shaking. “Alright on 3,2,1.” He says, before she feels her heart and stomach drop as she shoots high from the ground. She can’t help the scream that erupts from her throat as she feels the wind fly around her.

She clutched onto him with her life, tears nearly escaping from her closed eyes. She feels, weightless, but a strong force surrounding her at the same time. Her heart beating wildly in her chest as her stomach catches. Feeling the shaking of her insides as she holds on tighter.

She feels him come to a stop, the force of the wind no longer astounding her. “Hey, open your eyes.” He whispers. She finally opens her eyes and moves her face from his chest, her eyes widening. She’s right above central Gotham, high above every building in sight. She looks around in sheer wonder and awe as she takes in the sight. People below her walking look so small, it’s hard to believe that she’s the same size as they are. Buildings that shed gaze up at, now look small in comparison to the skyscrapers that she's level with.

He can’t help but let out a chuckle at her expression, reminding him of her fathers exact same expression when he was young. She might not be his, but she was surely meant to be his daughter. He watched as her pupils adjust to take in all the sights. He hears her heart calm but still aratic against her chest as the adrenaline courses through her. “Wanna see a trick?” He asks, watching as her attention is now back on him. She shakes her head yes, a gleeful childlike smile on her face.

He tucks her head back into his chest as he shouts through the sky, laughing at her scream of excitement.

“And today’s top story is this photograph taken just this morning. It appears to be a set of angel wings written in the sky. Some eyewitnesses say it was work of a plane, some even say they saw the infamous Superman. While some believe it’s a sign from God. Maybe there will be some saving grace for our city after all.”

Her and Tim let out a laugh as they watch the TV, barely able to hold the bowl of popcorn between them. She falls into his side, trying to stop her wheezing breath but to no avail. He wraps his arm around her, trying to stop himself from crying.

They hear his footsteps before they see him, watching at the open door as he glares at the two. “TT” he says, before walking away. She sighs as she gets off of Tim, rubbing her temples. “I don’t get it, why is he so pissed when I’m around you? I mean doesn’t he know?” She asks, annoyance heavily laced in her words. He looks away and sighs. “Actually, no he doesn’t know. None of them do.” He admits, hearing a gasp from her. “Tim, why haven’t you told them yet? I mean no offense but, how do they not know?” “I had a girlfriend at one point. Everyone thought we were gonna be like dick and babs, they, were all shocked when we split. And since then, I haven’t dated or even mentioned anything about it.” She puts her hand on his shoulder, making him finally look at her. “Tim, this is something they should know about you.” He scoffs as he moves her hand from his shoulder, a pain shooting through her heart. “Oh yeah and how would I even bring it up? Oh hey Damian that line you drew looks pretty straight, speaking of straight, I’m not. Oh and also I’m in love with my best friend for years. They’re all emotionally constipated. You’re the closest one here who’s actually got some emotion in you.” He says, both anger and sarcasm in his tone. He feels her hug him, wrapping his arms around her. “We’ll figure something out, but only when you’re ready.”

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dgchg · 3 years

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fangirlbase · 3 years

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The Howl of the Moon - Remus Lupin

Summary:

After a terrible accident in the battle at the Ministry in 1995, Hermione Granger wins a one-way ticket to the past. Unable to go back to his time, his only chance for survival is to adapt to the late 70s and get on with his life, interfering as little as possible so that the future does not fall apart.

However, everything goes downhill when Remus John Lupine starts to notice too much the new girl who clearly wanted to go unnoticed by Hogwarts.

Warnings: mature

6. The one of the full moon

Three weeks had passed since the last weekend in Hogsmeade, three different moon phases, which indicated that the full moon had finally arrived. Although it would not appear until Wednesday, already by Friday Remus was completely agitated. At first he could not stand still or concentrate on anything at all. At the second, he had bursts of energy at inopportune moments - as well as that time when the fat woman had to open the passage at four in the morning so that he could run in peace to see if he could discharge all that accumulated energy and, above all, the frustration of not having settled with Jean yet. More than the effects of the moon what kept him from getting a good night's sleep was how everything had fallen apart between him and the witch. Since he couldn't stay still in bed, going around the black lake at least fifteen times and climbing the stairs twice without getting tired seemed like a good idea, even if carrying James' invisibility cloak made the whole exercise more complicated.

However, none of this helped him to relax and worse, it only made him reflect how cowardly he was being by not being able to talk to the girl he saw almost every day because she was a classmate and workmate! He had said that they needed to work it out, but he was running away from her and in those three weeks it was the first time that the boy found himself grateful for not being from the same year as the brunette and so they didn't share classes ... But the monitoring had become a real torture simply because the two treated each other as complete strangers, only discussed issues that had to do with the classes and doubts of the students ... Not to mention that all this strangeness between the two consequently made Jean approach Snape, which only infuriated Remus more and more, even without him understanding why she was friends with the slytherin bothered him at that point. .. Of course he had already pointed out his reasons to worry, especially regarding the witch's safety, but the level of anger he felt when he saw the girl with that snotty guy was not proportional and even Lupin knew it, but being so close to the full moon he justified his terrible behavior as one more of the effects of being a werewolf.

Speaking of the moon's effects on the boy, it wasn't the restlessness, the anxiety, or even the anger that bothered him, but what came after that, the phase that bothered him the most: erections that were more spontaneous than usual, along with an immense desire for sex. Since he didn't have a girlfriend and didn't even allow himself to be with someone, there was only one way to alleviate this situation - and no, ignoring was not an option. He had tried this a few times since he had started puberty at thirteen, and it had not worked. His outbursts were getting heavier, along with the more violent transformations than usual. He didn't consider himself a sex maniac, but the situation was very uncomfortable during the proximity of the moon. I mean, only before and after, but during the moon he didn't complain at all, after all, let's face it, he was a human being and had his desires.

Those days before the full moon were not very different from the previous months. Although the moon was only the next day, his body was already showing signs of exhaustion from fighting the wolf's energy blasts, but that didn't mean he wasn't ready for another one. Locked in the male cabin of the dormitory, Remus played himself almost angrily, wishing it would all be over soon so he could sleep in peace. His movements were quick and hard, rubbing his member without any shame - just holding back his vocalization. It was enough that he felt like a wanker, he didn't need others to call him that. He didn't usually think about much while touching himself, since it wasn't his rational side that was turned on, so he didn't even worry about it much, but that time.... Oh, that time....

Remus knew he was close, speeding up his movements when a vision filled his mind: long, voluminous brown hair, along with a charming smile, grinning at him. The table-splitting during the monitoring, their thighs together, her leaning her head on his shoulder, him holding her hands in front of the Fighting Willow... Without him realizing it, Remus had drastically slowed his movements to a slow pace, just enjoying the occasional memories of the times they had touched each other, smiling with the pleasure he felt. But then the projected image of the licking Moony had proposed the day after his birthday appeared, and along with it the most pornographic scenes between the two of them together. Jean sitting on his lap, Jean sucking him, Jean begging him, Jean moaning his name along with a...

"I like you, Remus"

After that sentence, Remus's eyes widened in terror, but it was too late: the jets of his release were coming out harder than usual, forcing him to bend forward for balance. Had he really touched himself thinking of a person? Worse, of Jean Granger?

Remus felt his pressure drop-both from the strong enjoyment and from all the shame and embarrassment he felt, only having the strength to pull up his pants, wash his hands, and almost fly to his bed, violently closing the canopy curtains. What the hell had happened to him! How had he done such a thing!

Remus couldn't shut his eyes that night, anticipating the last phase before the moon: the one where he looked like he had been beaten by three kangaroos. His whole body ached, deep dark circles settled under his eyes, and his mood was more than acidic - almost effervescent. And of course, the damn erections! But this time he refused to give in to temptation, knowing that he would suffer later, but he didn't care.

No wonder he hid from Jean all day.

Until ten o'clock at night had arrived, and with it the time to go to the House of Screams.

- Are you coming or not? - James joked at Remus's delay in leaving the room.

- I'm coming.

His plan was simple: skim the communal hall and get to the house as quickly as possible, but he hadn't counted on Jean's presence near the fireplace with her face sunk in a book, completely oblivious to their presence. He didn't want to, but her neck almost swiveled like an owl in his direction, just as her scent slapped his already sharp nostrils at that point. If it hadn't been for James pulling on his wrist, he thought it very likely that he would have shoved his face into her neck, only to die of shame later.

What was happening to him?

"I hate you"- Remus threatened Moony, who only had a smug smile on his lips.

- You sick wolf. - he muttered to himself.

But it hadn't been Moony thinking about Jean the day before. Moony was just keeping himself horny, his imagination was solely on Remus. Wolf, I know....

Hurriedly, Remus rushed out of the castle, ignoring Rabicho tightening the Willow knot and heading straight for the largest room in the House, he tried to abstract himself from the smell. Although the boys tried to talk, they couldn't get more than grumbles of pain. By this time they were more than used to seeing their friend naked during the transformation and afterwards as well, since they refused to leave him alone during the whole process.

It was around half past eleven that Remus lost his sanity. It started from his back, with his shoulder blades bending forward, followed by the changes in the bone structure of his legs. His bones snapped breaking and reshaping themselves while his arms changed, with his claws growing sharply and cutting his skin, and finally his jaw changing, complete with the growth of all the fur, as well as that tail.

Troubled, Moony was confused and nervous. The smell still lingered in his nostrils, and it was too good to just enjoy. He wanted to be close, to enjoy it, and to smell it some more, but for that he needed to get out of the box. Almost stepping on the poor little tail, Moony bumped into the branches of Pontas, but interested in the way out. That would be quite a night.

Even under protest, Almofadinhas allowed his friend to pass out, with he and Pontas acting as the werewolf's front guard, preventing him from gaining too much freedom - with poor Rabicho almost hanging on to Almofadinhas' tail, trying to gain space and balance so as not to be left behind. Walks like these were quite common when Moony was calmer, but this time the wolf was quite agitated.

He had even howled at the moon in his desperation! Worried about the lecture they would hear if they found out that instead of the werewolf being trapped in the scream house he and his friends had escaped to run in relative safety through the forbidden forest, the detention did not begin to define the size of the jam they were in. When the boys realized that Moony was getting closer and closer to the castle - which was unusual of the runs that usually got away from the village and Hogwarts, - what was supposed to be a "game" of catch where the deer that was James was usually the wolf's favorite prey in the hunting game had to step in preventing the werewolf from getting any closer to the school grounds and that's when things went downhill. Points and Pillows finally managed to drag Moony to the House of Screams, putting up with all his violence for the rest of the night.

It was no surprise to any of the boys when Remus returned to normal with the sunrise looking like it had been the scene of tap dancing by elephants, hippos, horses and a very angry werewolf in the early hours of the morning - even James and Sirius had some pretty ugly cuts resulting from last night's fight Fortunately Peter had been quick on the healing spells knowing that if Lupin saw what he had done to the others he would feel immensely guilty.

"BORING!" - Shouted the wolf protesting at being suppressed yet again by the witch who was so tired he barely wanted to think about how much his other half still had the nerve to complain!

Completely finished, Remus didn't run away from the infirmary that morning, remaining in the hospital area until shortly after lunch, only then showing up for herbology class which was a colossal waste considering that the healing potions had left him so doped up that he just propped his head on one hand and kept counting how many leaves the potted mandrake seedlings on the shelf next to the teacher's board had. Unfortunately for him, it was a Thursday, which meant that he would spend at least an hour with Jean, in a very low-traffic environment, and he hadn't even settled down yet.

Feeling trapped in a nightmare, Remus crept into the transfiguration room, seeing that Jean was already in her usual place. Although he approached cautiously, the girl's natural perfume filled the room temptingly, and with his sense of smell still heightened by the recent transformation, he needed all the control he had and didn't have not to simply hug the girl like a madman and ask her forgiveness for being an idiot! But who said he could? The smell stirred his entire nervous system and caused him to act without thinking.

In a burst Remus threw his backpack aside along with his sanity and any rationality he proudly admitted to having, and ended the distance between them in stride, coming face to face with the girl.

Jean looked as beautiful as ever, the afternoon sun streaming in through the skylight, and for a second Remus could almost imagine how her angry curls would look in that light. He could easily blame Moony for his attitude as he gripped the witch's waist tightly and with his other hand pulled her neck close. When he captured the brunette's lips between his own in a dashing kiss he could no longer lie to himself, it was he who desperately wanted to kiss her. It was he, Remus Lupin, who wanted Jean Granger as something much more special than a friend, much more than a co-worker with whom he shared the responsibilities of monitoring. He wanted everything!

Surprisingly he was reciprocated, the witch thrusting her body forward attacked his mouth with more vigor, waging a real battle with their tongues, being instigated by the movement of the brunette's body, Lupin pulled her closer.

- Remus... - Jean sighed.

- Remus... - That sound was far away, but they were the only two in the room.

- Remus? - Jean's voice was present in front of him, waking him from his reverie.

Shaking his head, Lupin realized that he was standing in the middle of the room, staring at nothing. He felt his body on fire with shame. For Merlin! The wizard tried to turn around, he needed to get out of there before he did something similar to what he had imagined, but was stopped by her.

- Did something happen? - Hermione asked worriedly, standing in front of him, blocking his way. As far as she knew transformations left you finished, not looking like a cherry tomato.

- I.... I'm just feeling a little sick. - Remus closed his eyes, shaking his head hard, practically holding his breath.

"Hehehe" - Moony laughed in the face of danger, yawning and falling into unconsciousness lulled by the delicious aroma of old book and honeyed oranges.

Hermione stood on tiptoe and put her hand on the older man's forehead, being sure about his elevated temperature.

- You look a bit feverish to me... Why don't you go rest? I take care of things around here, I'm sure Minerva wouldn't mind.

Seriously tempted to accept the offer, Remus heard Snape's voice talking to Malcides in the distance down the hall, immediately changing his mind - who knows why.

- It's nothing so bad... - Remus declared marching over to his usual wallet - but I can't guarantee anything about staying conscious. - He made a pillow out of his backpack, staying as comfortable as possible, even if alert, until he was sure that in the event the sonserinos hadn't come for monitoring.

And well, just when he thought he had abstracted himself from the outside world, he felt Jean's scent once again close to his body, along with an extra layer of protection on his back.

- Like it or not, you might be running a fever. - She declared, placing the cover of her uniform over him before sitting down at the next desk and beginning to rehearse ignoring him again.

Remus was too tired to think or argue, falling asleep soon after. But if things weren't looking too good for the griffin, for Hermione, who was still upset about the fight, they only got worse when she saw Lily walk through the door.

- Is everything alright? - The redhead ventured, not liking the younger girl's hard stare. - Don't worry, I just came to see how Remus is doing.

- Sleeping. - He answered with false indifference, turning back to his parchment.

- It's just that he's never spent this much time in the infirmary... - Lily let slip, turning back after noticing Jean's eyebrow arched in suspicion. - He wasn't feeling well and of all the times he had been sick, this was the worst!

- Do you know what happened? - Hermione asked, and seeing Lily's panicked expression, decided to help. - He came here with a fever, but refused to go to the infirmary.

- Fever? - That was news.

- Yeah. Lethargy, red body, hot forehead, and unexplainable tiredness. Do you know where he might have gotten sick?

- I have no idea, but he is a little.... Fragile.

Fragile! Did they really use that excuse?

Hermione had to hold back the urge to roll her eyes, but she began to worry more about her roommate. Even if they weren't "on good terms" she didn't want him to get sick, especially after such a difficult night of the full moon as she inferred after the redhead's speech. Then sighing resignedly she put away her materials.

- He can't afford to stay here, the castle is freezing and if he's really sick like this he needs to be warm and comfortable, not sleeping in his purse.

- I'll try to fix that. - and disappearing for the next fifteen minutes, Lily returned with James following her, her features genuinely concerned.

The last time Remus had been sick was when Moony had jumped into the semi-frozen lake at Christmas three years earlier, providing the poor guy with pre-pneumonia - along with a shrinking wolf of shame in his mind.

He was a water wolf, damn it!

- Did he say anything? - James asked worriedly.

- He told a certain Moony to stop bothering him. - Hermione replied, having monitored her friend's sleep. - And he ordered fries with arugula.

- Wouldn't that be dried tomatoes with arugula? It's his favorite salad. - James corrected while trying to wake Remus up.

- There is a big difference in vocalization from potato to tomato.

- Actually, not much.

- One is a vegetable and one is a fruit!

- But...

- Arguing about his salad preference is not going to help at all now. - Lily interrupted the crazy conversation. - James, can you help me carry him to the Common Room?

James merely agreed, walking over to his friend and crouching down beside him, checking his temperature-which, although already normalized, he preferred to use as an excuse to take him for some well-deserved rest. The night had been violent, as it had not been for many years.

- Moony? - James tested, being ignored. - Remus? - He was relieved to see his friend's eyes blink sleepily.

- Tip...? - Remus didn't understand why his friend was there, after all, Potter was one of the group that only showed up at the monitorship the week before the exam, completely desperate.

- Let's go to the dorm, you don't look so good. - James stroked his back, situating the teenager.

- No....?

- No, Jean said you had a fever and asked Moony to leave you alone. Shouldn't you go to the dorm?

Remus merely nodded, getting up with difficulty. Ignoring Jean's existence, he leaned on James while Lily carried his backpack, thanking Jean for warning him.

Hermione in turn almost followed, but it wasn't as if they were still friends... not after what he had said on the walk in Hogsmeade. And for the first time in a long time she missed her time of her friends, unconsciously she had clung to the presence of Remus, Lily and the naughty ones, but there in that empty room she realized how alone she was.

She was the alien in that time and as much as she wanted to fool herself she couldn't change the future. She should never have approached them in the first place, so sighing resignedly she told herself that it didn't affect her! She needed to focus on her studies!

___________

- Ask her, Jamie! - Lilly pleaded with her boyfriend, who was trying to concentrate on that afternoon's quadribol game.

- Why don't you ask her yourself?

- Don't you see how she runs away from me?

- And why don't you ask Remus?

- He won't like me asking about her. Please, James! I never asked you for anything!

- Lily, saying that every time you ask me for something doesn't make your point any more valid! But what can I not do for you...? - James melted, stealing a brief kiss from the redhead, before addressing the rookie, who was just finishing descending the dormitory stairs.

- Hey, Newbie! Are you going to the game today? - drawing the attention of a few curious listeners.

- Are your fans so bad that you need to buy other people's fans? - Hermione couldn't help herself, laughing internally at Potter's affectedly offended expression.

- You'll be cheering for me then? - Sirius asked excitedly, coming down the stairs after her.

He had forgotten his gloves in his room, returning just in time to hear the teasing.

- Harry.... I mean, Potter has a better chance of getting my cheers than you do, Black. - Hermione let slip absently.

- What does he have that I don't have?

- He doesn't give me a hard time.

- UUUUI.... - Peter whistled, armed with his fan costume that would make Luna Lovegood jealous.

But Remus didn't opine on the matter - preferring to remain stretched out on the couch in front of the fireplace pretending to be part of the furniture. Since the moon two weeks ago he had avoided as much as possible being alone with her, or thinking about her, or talking to her. He was deeply bothered by her perverted thoughts, as well as her request that Moony stop tormenting him that she had listened to, preferring to play dumb by saying it was a nickname, but she shouldn't have missed him, since she hadn't sought him out either.

He really thought that she didn't intend to go to the game that Saturday so that his afternoon would be another time when he could get peace of mind by focusing on cheering for James and Sirius with equal animation as Peter demonstrates glued to the protective bar of the bleachers - but when he saw those brown hairs three seats to his left in the bleachers, he couldn't stand to stay away any longer and without really reflecting simply sat down next to the girl.

Hermione just sighed resignedly when she realized that it was Remus who had taken the vacant seat next to her and when she realized that the other would start talking she couldn't contain herself.

- Now you talk to me? - she poked. And she mentally slapped herself because even though she told herself that the witch's estrangement didn't affect her and that it was actually the best thing since she shouldn't mess with the past, but there she was unable to hold her tongue or hide her displeasure with the whole situation.

- You haven't spoken to me these days either. - Lupin might have sounded offended as if it was all her fault in the end, but his tone was completely pitiful because this was the reality that their estrangement was killing him little by little.

Hermione looked at Remus and all she could think was that he looked like a real puppy that fell out of the move.

- You know I would never ask you to stay away from James and your friends, I just wanted to prove my point, it wasn't supposed to be a choice or put you up against the wall or anything like that, but I didn't think you'd walk away from me like that.

She was tired of playing hard to get. By Merlin, she was only 16! She had lost her friends, her family, her own time, and just when she thought she could finally accept the reality she was in - as Minerva had suggested by making new friends, pursuing her studies and dreams - Remus who had become such a dear friend had simply stopped talking to her. And worse, she felt as if it was her fault, as if she had told him to choose and in this case he had chosen the others, leaving her alone.

Right after the fight she felt extremely let down by Lupin and all his prejudice towards the sonserino, not to mention his insistence on turning a blind eye ignoring the inexcusable attitudes of the other rascals. Then she felt anger, she felt truly outraged by the fact that the boy was acting all macho towards her as if to say: "I have to defend the fragile and foolish Hermione who can't tell friend from foe.

She was never helpless!

She was a highly trained and capable witch, who had faced a Mountain Trasgo at the age of eleven (even though in this case it was Harry and Ron who incapacitated the magical creature while she was hiding under the sink, but yelling is part of it, it gives encouragement and moral support) and then survived long enough to be nose to nose with an enraged wolf (the same one that was now overprotecting her) when she howled at him at the age of thirteen! Okay, it was exactly because she got careless in the battle of the ministry that she ended up in that mess, but if it hadn't been for her, Harry and Ron would have spent half of their school days in the infirmary. And now came the melancholy, she hadn't felt this sad and alone since Halloween in her first year.

- You said you cared about me and that's why you didn't want me to hang out with Severus, but avoiding me is not something a caring friend would do. - And for a second she had to take a deep breath to keep from bursting into tears, luckily everyone around her was too alert to the game to notice her or Lupin.

And there, seeing the girl he claimed to be his best friend so unhappy about something he had done Remus felt like a real and complete idiot!

- I'm sorry. - Remus sighed defeated. - You were right about everything! I can't tell you who can be your friend, and yes, everyone deserves a second chance... I hate the way things are between us! You are my best friend and I want you to stay that way! I just didn't know how to fix all this... Damn, I still hate seeing you hanging out with Snape, but that's my problem and I didn't have to say all that to you! I'm sorry for being such a jerk... Can I ask you a question?

Hermione laughed lightly and answered as the boy had answered when she had asked the question that had started the whole fight.

- She just did.

- Would it be too much to ask for a second chance too?

- No, it wouldn't. Even if you were a complete prejudiced jerk!

A stabbing.

- And it's not like I'm some helpless witch who needs you to protect me! - Well, not specifically, but Snape did, to protect her from Moony that night fifteen years ahead.

Another stab.

- But it's like I said, everyone deserves a second chance and I would really be happy if we could continue to be friends without any resentment. - She concluded relieved after getting all that off her chest.

"Just... friends?" - Moony asked sadly, feeling Remus' heart also wither like a birthday balloon at the end of the party.

- I am very happy about that...- Remus replied with a yellow smile on his face, making Jean suspicious of his real feelings.

Friend was better than colleague, wasn't it?

- You don't seem very happy....

- It's not that, I'm really happy, it's just that I'm not that much of a fan of quadribol, especially when we're losing. James will be unbearable later in the dorm, and after all our... this mess, I just wanted some peace. - He confessed, looking tired.

- Did I keep you up that much? - Hermione said playfully, happy to be back in the mood for the casual banter between the two of them, but soon noticed the pink confusion on Lupin's face.

- Not you specifically! M-but the whole situation itself.

"LIE!" - His conscience had shouted, muffling the shout Moony was about to give.

"I'm glad you know"-The wolf agreed.

- Do you want to get out of here? I'm not willing to watch Pettigrew cuss all and more when James loses his pomo in a little while.

- The two of us sneaking out of a quadribol game seems a bit suspicious to me, Miss Granger.

- I see it more as two not interested in quadribol going away for their mental sanity living in the silly uncertainty of not knowing who really won or lost.

- I'll take it, but only if you answer my other question. Why do you come to the games if you get such a frowny expression?

- Quadribol reminds me of a very dear person. - he said with a genuine wistful smile on his face. - Even though I hate everything about this extremely violent and unsafe game. Watching the matches refreshes my memory, but not enough to want to see a Potter and Black being badly beaten.

And with an understanding smile, Remus placed his hand at the base of her back - just so they wouldn't get lost, of course - as he led her toward the steps of the bleachers and then followed her away from the field, wasting the next thirty minutes in the Commons Hall enjoying each other's company, betting the exact moment James Potter would come in like a hurricane through the portrait, ignoring the presence of the two. Despite not being able to move around much in the stands, Remus Lupin and Jean Granger spent much of the late afternoon and early evening half cuddled on the couch in front of the fireplace, re-establishing the bond of super best friendship - a friendship with many more physical touches if it were up to the Lupine subconscious in question.

#remione #remus lupin #sirius x remus #sirius x remus x hermione #sirius black #Hermione Granger #travel time #time turner #back in time #wolfstar #harry potter fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #Autoria

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roswellroamer · 4 years

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Day 18. February 16, 2020. Kaiteriteri day rides. 275km

Glad I took some great shots yesterday from Kimi Ora resort since it was pretty gray in the AM. Still, really cool to wake up in the woods in a modern unit with a view of the water. I enjoyed my continued vegetarian diet through no choice of my own as the included breakfast was served at the main lodge (about 300 steps down the hill). Plenty of nice choices there and still pleased with the taste of the veggie dinner offerings from last night. One thing I also woke up to was a good amount of swelling and puffiness around my left eye, as the histaminic reaction had spread. Still able to use my eye, but feeling weird and half swollen shut, I felt like saying "Cut me, Mick". Actually got a bit worse for the first half of the day but as of now which is nighttime I will hope that the swelling reduces tomorrow. No real hindrance other than folks asking me if I had fallen from my bike! Heading north we managed to get Ted's debit card to be taken at the local unattended station then aimed up over the very tight and a bit scary hill just to get to the main road. We turned right on Takaka Hill Road and were immediately greeted with a sign that said we may have construction delays. after just a mile or so we ended up first at the traffic light. Theee indicator LED lights showed 6-12', 2-5' & 1'. We had just missed the green light as we saw the last car a few turns up the steep hill but waited it out. We joked about timing our return so that we wouldn't have to again wait another 12'. It wasn't construction but the recent heavy weather had actually washed away a few sections of road, dropping 4-6' of roadway down the hill and now cordoned off with construction barriers to be fixed who knows when. We aimed for the northernmost point on the South Island, Cape Farewell. There are some dramatic rock features that are worth the few hundred meters of tramping up to see them as the South Island abruptly ends into the see. Pics above. The "cave" is hard to see as it is under a very high and steep cliff with no safety measure but the water actually flows into and through this dramatic hole in the mountain's base. Also you can see the water flowing in but didn't want to have a "hold my beer" moment trying to capture the wave action inside the cave. The other spit of headland is marked by a flying buttress of stone and this was the last bit of land that Cook and his crew saw when returning to England in 1770. https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cape_Farewell,_New_Zealand

We explored all 3 of the areas we could ride to and they encompassed maybe 10 or 12km of gravel roads around the top of the island. It felt pretty remote and it was beautiful even on a gray day. Next we retraced southward with a slight detour to cruise through Collingwood before opting to stop at the Mussel Inn. In addition to the bohemian vibe, we were treated to a culmination concert of African circle drums and dance provided by a group from around the country that had come together for a 4 day drum circle camp there. I got into the beat as they accompanied my tasty and quite large New Zealand green tipped mussels. Yes Jerry, I pulled the hair patches! 😉 In the toilet though I didn't need it, instead of toilet paper there was a bin of shredded cardboard. As the rain started up again we took our leave and the next brown sign turnoff took us to the Te Waikoropupu springs. This was a great stop as the size of the springs and especially the volume of water billowing from the ground was impressive. A sizable river basically emanated from there in just a couple springs. They are the largest freshwater springs in New Zealand, the largest cold water springs in the Southern Hemisphere and contain some of the clearest water ever measured! Took some pics but hard to grasp the clarity of the water and the volume. Spoke to a couple from Madison who were riding for a couple months on a BMW 1200GS they bought from the dealer in Dunedin we visited. McIver & Veitch. They bought it and have an agreement to sell it back when done which saves them a good third over renting. Good idea for longer rides/rentals. Heading back to the highly technical Takaka Hill, after crossing that Old Takaka River (insert Larry David joke here!), I had the uber geeky idea to count the turns since it had seemed twistier than the Dragon this morning. Of course with a 10' delay at the same one way light location due to bad timing or poor planning, I had to remember I was at 222 turns while at the light. I counted 250 turns in what Ted researched to be a 14.8 mile stretch of road. That is a turn per mile rate of 16.83 turns per mile. The Tail of the Dragon boasts 318 curves in 11 miles. That is a T.P.M. ratio of 28.9. So the Dragon wins. But I have never counted the Tail's twists myself. My impression was that this road is twistier but at this point I'll just accept that all the T-shirts are correct and Takaka Hill is just a bit less twisty. Still a fantastic road that wouldve been a lot more fun if not enveloped in fog at the top and wasn't raining/wet. We then headed past our resort to the closest sizable town of Motueka. Lots of restaurant choices there since the woman at reception yesterday seemed to indicate there wouldn't be much to choose from on Sunday in Kaiteriteri and our resort's kitchen is closed for Sunday dinner. If the weather held off we would try to head there for dinner. However the rain persisted and we also found that the nighttime and slick wet turns required to get back to Kaiteriteri were strong dissuaders. We explored Kaiteriteri a bit more and found the Beached Whale which said they'd be open for dinner later. It also said entertainment 7 nights a week so that sounded good. We rolled back up the hill to our jungle unit and I actually got a one hour nap which was sweet. 😴

We headed back on the bikes in our riding boots and Goretex jackets since it was still raining lightly. I wore jeans, for a mile trip you weren't gonna get very wet unless the weather opened up on us. Ted was far enough ahead of me that I didn't see him slide on the curve approaching the main road. He didn't go down but I also slid at the exact same spot, I'm guessing at least 3-4"". Closer inspection on the return ride revealed a white painted yield sign which must've had lines 6" to 12" wide painted right on the turn covering 2/3 of the width of the lane. We had been warned in the first couple days by a biker about the painted lines in NZ. They are slippery at home too but I think they use no grit here at all on some of them. When wet they can be especially dangerous. We both almost had a real problem at that same spot which we discovered during dinner discussions. A mushroom pizza and a Coke were then serenaded by possibly the owner on guitar and a computer and equipment to provide the accompanying rhythm and occasional synthesizer. He was very good. Again mostly American stuff. Eagles, Johnny Cash, Ike & Tina, Nancy Sinatra, Van Morrison (Irish I know) etc. Good day and going to head toward Havelock tomorrow with some great looking detours to French Pass if the weather cooperates. 😴

#newzealand #kaiteriteri #advrider #motoadventure

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fontainebleau22 · 6 years

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Box of Frogs (Part 6)

From @tramstrams‘ not-at-all-serious prompt, ‘an AU with magic, but something has gone terribly awry and people are being turned into frogs. Only Sam Chisolm can stop this madness’.

Part 1 here. Part 2 here. Part 3 here. Part 4 here. Part 5 here.

---

I go away for one week, just one week, and when I come back my entire friend-group is living in tanks and eating flies. Sam was cruising slowly through a tangle of suburban streets, checking the names as he passed. It had taken him some effort to persuade a reluctant Red Harvest, in a conversation conducted through the skylight, to adopt human form long enough to tell him the address of the woman who had wreaked such havoc. And Goody so upset - ain’t going to be much in the way of entertainment on poker night till this is all set straight.

He drew to the kerbside beside an unremarkable one-storey house with a well-tended yard; as he stepped from the car a young man strolled by, fingers clicking in time to the tinny beat from his headphones. Tiny rainbow-coloured fish leaked from the earpieces and gathered to dart behind him in a rippling shoal. He paid Sam no attention, but one or two of the fish lingered in his wake, swimming curiously over to inspect him; as they neared him their colours began to fade to black and white. The boldest, nosing towards him, suddenly popped like a soap bubble, and the others flipped their tails and fled.

Sam squared his shoulders and strode to the gate. He had one hand on the latch when a dog the size of a kitchen table came cantering round the side of the house, rowfing enthusiastically. Sam withdrew his hand from the latch. Goody hadn’t mentioned a dog, nor Red. Not that it would have made a difference: Sam Chisolm wasn’t afraid of dogs, even disturbingly hairy dark brown ones.

‘Good boy?’ he said experimentally. The dog sat down and scratched itself vigorously; its eyes, if indeed it had eyes, were hidden under a shock of thick fur and it occurred to Sam, purely coincidentally, that it might be more polite if he stayed on this side of the gate for the present.

‘Who is it, Gavin?’ called a voice; the dog turned its head and Sam was half-surprised that it didn’t answer.

A woman appeared, dressed in a plaid shirt and jeans muddy at the knees, her red hair coming loose from its braid. She seemed younger than Red’s rather incoherent explanation had led him to expect, though her face was pale and drawn. ‘Can I help you?’ she asked in a tone of glacial coldness.

‘Ms Cullen?’ asked Sam politely. ‘Name’s Sam Chisolm.’ He glanced at Gavin who had settled down again, a tongue like a roll of carpet lolling from his mouth. ‘Fine specimen of a dog you have there.’

‘What do you want?’ she demanded impatiently. Well, he’d been warned she had a short fuse. ‘If I could – ‘ he started, but she interrupted. ‘How do you know my name?’

‘You’ve had some recent dealings with my friends.’ Her face darkened like a storm rolling in and Sam quickly held up his hands. ‘Ain’t come to quarrel with you or pass blame; it’s just the whole – frog issue.’

Ms Cullen rolled her eyes. ‘Who are you friends with, my macho jackass of a neighbour? The asshole from the café who wouldn’t stop winking at me? Or the strange old guy who told me to look into my heart for the Lord’s guidance?’

Sam winced. ‘Jack meant well, I’m sure.’

Ms Cullen looked at him narrowly. ‘Are you like the one with the cheekbones who tried to order me around?’

‘No, ma’am,’ said Sam with dignity. ‘I’m not here to do anything but talk with you, and if you let me in I swear I won’t outstay my welcome.’

‘Gavin will see to that,’ said Ms Cullen darkly; it was hardly encouragement, but it seemed as good as he was likely to get, so Sam squeezed cautiously round the gate.

Gavin perked up at the prospect of a visitor and Sam loosened his collar. ‘Is he … friendly?.’ Ms Cullen sighed pointedly, cast around for a stick and hurled it away into the bushes; Gavin went cantering obediently after it.

Sam looked optimistically at the wooden bench nearby, but Ms Cullen just stood and folded her arms. ‘Well?’

He took a deep breath. Need to tread carefully here. ‘Thing is, I just got home from Albuquerque, been away for a week, this thing I –‘ Ms Cullen raised an eyebrow and he hurried to change gear. ‘You’re right, never mind all that, but I came back and found my friend Goody with an apartment full of frogs, and it seems ‘most everyone I know is now in a tank under his care.’

Gavin came crashing back, stick in his mouth, and Ms Cullen wrestled it from him and tossed it again to send him racing off.

‘Now I’ll grant you Joshua can be overenthusiastic, and you’re not the first that’s threatened to turn him into a rat or a skunk or the like, and I can see that if Billy – that’s the one with the cheekbones – started trying to order you about, you might get tired of that, and Jack, well, he is strange, and that’s the truth…’

Ms Cullen seemed puzzled and Sam had to admit that Gavin’s looming presence might be keeping him from top form. He ploughed on regardless. ‘But Ale – he’s Josh’s boyfriend, he was distraught, Goody said, and Goody’s just beside himself with Billy being a frog and I’m here to ask if you’d find it in you to turn them back again.’

Ms Cullen stared at him. ‘Back.’ Her flat tone was unnerving.

‘To human. You can turn them back, can’t you?’

Ms Cullen shrugged. ‘Why would I want to?’

Because they’re frogs. Sam tried to rein in his temper. ‘I undertake that they’ll have seen the error of their ways; and surely you must feel some sympathy for Ale and Goody, and Red too, losing their partners so sudden? Red won’t stop being a bird, and Goody, well, he ain’t so sensible at the best of times and this has just thrown him for a loop…’

He realised, too late, that Gavin had snuck up behind him and was growling a basso profundo accompaniment to his words, and worse, he was caught between the devil and the deep blue sea as Ms Cullen drew herself up; it felt as though rage was rolling off her like heat from sheet metal.

‘Yes, Mr Chisolm. I know what it’s like to lose a partner suddenly – I know exactly what it’s like. And no one’s going to wave a hand and bring Matthew back to me.’

Ah. Quite a lot of things became clear to him at once. ‘That’s a hard thing-‘ he began with awkward sympathy, but she hunched her shoulders defensively. ‘Thank you, but I don’t need your pity. I just want you and your friends to stop bothering me.’

In all honesty Sam could see her point. ‘I get that this was all Joshua’s fault at the start - that ain’t usual...’

‘Just go.’ She was running out of patience, that was clear, but Sam owed it to Goody not to give up. ‘But - they’re frogs.’ If he could just find the right words to convince her. ‘Do you really think this is what your hus-’

Gavin’s growl turned into a bark. ‘How dare you?’ Ms Cullen lifted her hand and Sam, despite himself, took a step backward.

There was an electric zap! followed by a startled yip, and Gavin flashed from an intimidatingly large dog to – an intimidatingly large frog, the largest frog Sam had ever seen, more than a foot from snout to tail, with thighs like a turkey and enormous paddle-shaped feet.

‘What did you do?’ demanded Ms Cullen, horrified. FrogGavin opened his mouth and let out a strange whistling noise, like a deflating football, before hopping away across the grass.

‘Now that is downright unsettling,’ observed Sam. Ms Cullen looked in disbelief from frog-Gavin to him, then flexed her fingers again; Sam stared at her levelly. This time there was no zap!, just a sound like the slap of a wet cloth, and Sam stood there, resolutely unfrogged. ‘Won’t work on me,’ he said, almost apologetically.

They’d clearly reached an impasse; but as they stood, eyes locked, another car drew up outside and running footsteps approached. ‘Sam!,’ cried Goody, vaulting over the gate. ‘I looked it up – I’ll undoubtedly be a Cajun chorus frog – we’re compatible!’

‘What?’ asked Ms Cullen, too taken aback to protest his invasion of her property.

Goodnight turned to her, manners forgotten in his agitation. ‘I need you to turn me into a frog so I can be with Billy again. Sam will put me in the vivarium with him and we’ll be fine.’

No, no, no. ‘Ignore my histrionic friend,’ said Sam to Ms Cullen, trying to pull Goody away by the elbow, but, ‘You have to,’ declared Goody feverishly. ‘I can’t live my life with Billy on the coffeetable in a tank! He’s my husband and I love him.’

Terrifying visions of a future sitting alone surrounded by frogs began to dance through Sam’s head. ‘Don’t listen to him,’ he begged. ‘Goody, be reasonable...’

Ms Cullen frowned in confusion. ‘You actually want me to –‘ she started, but then broke off, pointing an accusing finger at him. ‘Don’t I know you?’

Goodnight frowned. ‘Well, you turned my husband into a frog, I think that must count as a basic acquaintance…’

‘No,’ said Ms Cullen with more confidence, ‘you’re the man from the pet store, I recognise you. You were buying-’ ‘curly-winged flies,’ supplied Goody, the light of memory on his face – ‘and when I went back after they said you’d paid for my leash.’

‘That’s right,’ agreed Goody. ‘You were upset, it seemed the neighbourly thing to do.’ He looked around vaguely. ‘Big dog, wasn’t it?’

Sam indicated the enormous frog rooting about happily in a flowerbed. ‘There was an accident,’ he said awkwardly.

Goody whistled, impressed. ‘And I thought Jack was big.’

‘An accident.’ Ms Cullen glared at Sam, then clicked her fingers sharply. Goody jumped expectantly at the flunch! which followed, then looked down at himself, still warm-blooded and mammalian, in disappointment, but Gavin popped back into canine form and came sauntering back towards them, apparently unfazed.

Sam retreated behind Goody in what he hoped was a subtle manner. ‘So you can reverse it.’

‘Reverse it?’ Goody’s attention refocused like a laser. ‘Permanently? Sam tried, but Billy kept frogging and unfrogging again and – can you bring him back?’

Ms Cullen tried to scowl at him, but her composure suddenly wobbled. ‘Yes, I can bring your husband back for you.’ She turned her back hastily and went to sit down on the bench, hugging her arms; Gavin hurried over to offer a wall of doggy comfort.

Goody looked to Sam, who cleared his throat. ‘Ms Cullen lost her husband unexpectedly.’

Understanding dawned on Goody’s face and he went to sit down beside her. ‘You said, you moved here after he…?’ he asked gently.

Ms Cullen hugged Gavin close, tears beginning to creep down her cheeks. ‘I just – I thought being somewhere new would help, but I miss him every second, just the same.’

Goody put a tentative hand on her back. ‘What happened?’

‘An accident. Hit and run. One morning he was there, and then – just gone, in an instant. It’s so unfair.’

‘It is unfair,’ agreed Sam, sitting down on her other side. When she looked at him, he added gravely, ‘I know a little about losing family. And so does Jack. He’s always been a help to me.’

Ms Cullen rubbed at her eyes. ‘Maybe I have been a bit quick-tempered recently.’

Goody patted her arm comfortingly. ‘Now, Ms Cullen,’ – ‘Emma,’ she interjected quietly – ‘it’s understandable.’

‘Though it’s true,’ added Sam, ‘you can’t solve every problem by turning people into a frog.’

Goody glared at him over her head, but Emma managed a watery smile. ‘That’s what Matthew used to tell me. I never met anyone I couldn’t turn before.’

‘Sam here’s immune to magic,’ explained Goody.

‘Blessing and a curse,’ said Sam.

‘What about you?’ she asked Goody curiously. ‘What can you do?’

‘I can cure things.’ Goody took her hand sympathetically. ‘Though unfortunately not broken hearts.’

Ms Cullen – Emma – shut her eyes again briefly, then shook herself and sat up straighter. ‘I shouldn’t be making everyone else suffer. Let me bring them back.’

‘We can take you-‘ started Sam, but she shook her head. ‘I can do it from here.’

She lifted a hand again, but Goody suddenly grabbed it. ‘Wait!’

‘What?’ squawked Sam, but Goody gave him a withering glance.

‘How exactly does this work? Is Billy going to find himself standing on the remains of my coffeetable in a busted tank? I left Ale and Josh on the bookshelf, and Jack is still in the washbasin…’

Emma had the grace to look slightly embarrassed. ‘It should bring them back to the place where it happened. Reset the clock.’

‘So they’ll be here?’ Goody took her hand with one of his charming smiles. ‘Would you?’

Emma closed her eyes and concentrated, then clicked her fingers. The mother of all flunch!es set Gavin barking and started off car alarms down the street, and Billy and Jack popped into existence, staggering in surprise.

‘Billy!’ Goody jumped to his feet. ‘Thank the Lord!’

‘Goody?’ Billy blinked at him in confusion. ‘I left you at home. No, I was at home with you. Sam was there, but he’s not back.’

‘Sam’s over there,’ interjected Jack, equally at a loss. He peered at Billy. ‘Aren’t you a frog?’

Billy looked around. ‘Where’s Ale?’

‘Where’s Red?’ asked Jack. His question at least was answered as a dark blur came plummeting down from the sky, changing form at the last moment to land in a flurry of feathers and hair.

‘There you are!’ Jack enveloped Red in what could only be described as a bear hug, and Goody followed suit with Billy. ‘I’m so glad to have you back, cher.’

Emma turned to Sam, deliberately ignoring the heartfelt reunions. ‘The red-haired guy and his boyfriend will be at that cafe.’

‘We’ll go and fetch them,’ declared Goody, all smiles. ‘I can’t thank you enough-‘

Emma shrugged and the corners of her mouth tugged down. ‘Back to normal for you all. Gate’s over there. Come on, Gavin.’ She began to walk back to the house, shoulders slumped.

Sam exchanged glances with Goody. ‘Look, we shouldn’t trespass on your time, but won’t you…’ Emma looked back expectantly, and Sam faltered.

‘…come and be sure the others are OK?’

Sam threw Goody a look of gratitude. ‘Yes, just in case it hasn’t worked.’

‘It will have,’ said Emma, but Goody was already back to his regular voluble self.

‘Wouldn’t want either of them to end up different – you know, Josh left with frog feet or Ale breathing though his skin.’

‘We wouldn’t?’ asked Billy.

Jack nudged him reprovingly. ‘We’d be honoured if you’d come with us to the café, ma’am.’

Emma looked cheerful for the first time. ‘Can I bring Gavin? He likes company.’

‘Of course,’ said Goody blithely, ‘Billy and I will take Jack and Red, and Sam can take the two of you.’

Hellfire, Goody. Sam ground his teeth. ‘No problem.’

When Emma laughed properly Sam could see how young she really was. ‘Want me to frog him up again for the journey?’

‘I think,’ said Sam resignedly, ‘ I’m going to need to learn to love him as he is.’

---

[Just a short coda to follow, and this idiocy will be at an end.]

#mag7 #the magnificent seven #box of frogs #sam chisolm to the rescue #sort of

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slutforragnarssons · 6 years

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Swollen

Warnings: Smut 18+

Synopsis: When Bjorn’s heavily pregnant fiancé starts complaining more regularly about her growing weight, he sets out on a mission to make her feel like the most beautiful woman ever.

Word Count: 1,105

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Six months pregnant, and it felt more like sixteen months. My stomach was lined with dark red stretch marks, my ankles were swollen so large I could barely fit some of my favorite shoes, and even my cute maternity clothes began to feel tight. After unsuccessfully going on a shopping trip with my sister in law, I came home crushed. Not even the largest size fit me, Ouch. Before, I could easily fit into a size 6 in jeans and a small in tops, but now it seemed that nothing came over my swollen stomach.

After storming into the house and surprising the dogs, I run up to our bedroom and shut the door, falling into the bed and crying into the pillows. Not thirty seconds later, I hear the slow sounds of Bjorn trekking up the stairs. He knows that I’ve had a bad day, and opens the door slowly, walking in, our German Shepard following behind him, tail down as he jumps up on the bed next to me and licks my cheek. I smile an ruffle his dark fur and sit up, looking at Bjorn.

“Bad day?” He asks simply, and I let out a sigh.

“You wouldn’t even believe it. I don’t fit any cute clothes and when they do fit, they’re big everywhere else on my body. My shoes won’t even fit. I’ll be damned to flip flops and Birkenstocks for the rest of my life.” I wipe away my red and puffy eyes and sniffle, snuggling my head into the crook of his neck and Bjorn envelopes me in a tight embrace.

“I believe it darling. When you’re growing a life inside of you, it needs some room to wiggle around and exercise. I imagine the baby is enjoying the extra play room. When he or she comes out they’ll be thankful that they weren’t squashed, yeah?” He explains, stroking my hair softly. I snuggle once again, wiping my nose off on his shirt and nodding.

“Okay... I suppose you’re right. “ I sit back on the pillows and watch Bjorn take off his shirt and grab a white t-shirt. Just seeing him like this practically makes me salivate, and when he glances over and sees the primal lustful look he smirks and drops the shirt on the dresser, walking over and kneeling on the bed, hovering over me.

“You know what? I’m going to prove to you that you’re the most beautiful woman ever, and that I love you just the way you are.” He helps me settle down on the bed with pillows behind my back for comfort, as I wiggle out of my maxi dress. My breasts are spilling out of my bra, and I blush when I look down at my granny panties. He lets out a chuckle and helps me remove my remaining clothing items. His belt slowly comes off, and his jeans fall to the floor with a light thump. I do a once over to make sure none of the dogs are here, and point to the door. He shuts it with his foot and walks back over, just in his old green boxers. It shouldn’t be sexy, he’s had those sincewe met, but it is. I want to sit up and pull them off, but my tomafh prevents me. He watches me struggle for a second before tugging them off himself and moving onto the bed next to me, picking me up and placing me on his stomach. I straddle him and grab his shoulders for support as I leave kisses on his tattooed chest.

“Leave some for me babe!” He says and gently pushes me back, andbegins leaving kisses on my engorged breasts and my round glove of a belly resting atop my newly widened hips. His hands wander to my stomach and he places them on each side, his thumbs caressing the taut skin. I feel a blow delivered to his hand from what I presume is the feet of my unborn child. His smile lights up as he waits for another kick. When another comes, he moves his hands to my chest to massage my aching breasts. I’ve been complaining since the third month about the soreness, and he’s always been willing to massage them. His open mouth finds my nipple like a newborn waiting to be fed as he suckles my chest, causing my hands to fly into his hair, tugging on his braid as my hips grind onto his now semi erect package.

“That’s the ticket there baby, I found it. “ he smirks as he continues to pay special attention to my chest. When he’s done , he very gently guides me to a position where I’m sitting on my hands and knees, my belly barely touching the bed. After he’s made sure that I’m comfortable, his hands find my dripping slit. My mouth waters at the sight of his lengthy dick, and I rock my hips on his. He gives me a smirk as he delivers gently kisses to my back and guides his tip to my entrance. I feel the head, and then slowly feel the shaft as he slides in easily. My head lulls forward as I arch my back in pure bliss. It’s been a month or so since we’ve had contact like this, especially his him being ultra cautious about hurting the baby.

“Fuck- Bjorn- don’t fucking stop...” I breathlessly moan as I feel him press more kisses to my back, and feel his balls slap against my ass. I groan in pleasure and grab his wrist softly.

“Baby? You okay?” He asks, concern dripping in his voice as he slowly looks me over.

“I’m alright, just want you to slow down a little so we can enjoy for longer.” I smile, watching as he nods and slows his pace, letting me feel his hands once again caressing my chest.

Much quicker than I had expected, I feel the heat rising in my core, and I feel myself close to a glorious orgasm. I clench my muscles, and he lets out a knowing chuckle, seeimingly out of place during such an intimate moment, but for us it’s nothing out of character. After building up and up and up, I finally let out a loud moan as I feel myself slipping down as pleasure shoots through all my limbs, and Bjorn groans from behind me. After staying in the same position for an awkwardly long and silent amouth of time, he pulls out and I roll onto my back, giving him a sloppy kiss as I watch him stand and walk to the bathroom. He comes back with a warm, wet towel, and he helps clean my lower half.

“Thank you baby. I don’t know what I would do without you.” I smile and run my hands through his soft hair.

“See? I told you that you were the most beautiful woman ever. I’m right about a lot of these things, you should trust me more often.” He says with acocky tone of voice. I watch with a smirk and sigh.

“There you go, ruining the mood.” I chuckle at him.

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#vikings au #vikings #bjorn x reader #fluff #bjorn fluff #vikings fluff #vikings bjorn #vikings smut #au smut #bjorn smut #pregnancy

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augusmarcellus · 3 years

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I have been many things, Bran.

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Mediante un agarre suave y flexible que se sirve de una construccin tubular y surcos de flexin, esta zapatilla ofrece una mejor transicin, despegue y aterrizaje. Pigs, was his first thought, but after a second sniff he changed his mind. Just as for CRR, RBI now has the freedom to also cazadora vaquera tommy hilfiger fix the level of SLR.. I met some young lady and she was going to give me a ride back. The next round of frustration came in the country's major conflicts in Southeast Asia in the 1960s and early 1970s. I’ll tell you about vans giniss it afterwards. At the same time very low temps are moving over the Bering Sea area, so possibly a lot of new, very thin ice is formed, especially as some very strong northerlies are forecast for the region. Tyler will be remembered by everyone he ever met, a list too numerous to mention or to thank. It is a large castle, the largest on the Wall, and we have only been able to restore a part of it. 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unchartedterritoria · 6 years

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Dangerous (Sam Drake x OC) - Chapter 17

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 * Chapter 2 * Chapter 3 * Chapter 4 * Chapter 5* Chapter 6 * Chapter 7 * Chapter 8 * Chapter 9 * Chapter 10 * Chapter 11 * Chapter 12 * Chapter 13 * Chapter 14 * Chapter 15 * Chapter 16

As always, you can read the story thus far on A03 HERE

Reviews and comments are always appreciated!

Summary:

Sam hates a quiet car ride. What could he do to cheer Faith up?

As Faith and Sam made their way towards Key West, the car ride had been an uncomfortably quiet one, and Sam hated it. He could feel the cloud of Remy’s death, it hung over Faith’s head and the heaviness their journey had taken on permeated through the car like a fog. Faith had been almost silent, lost in her mind while she took her turn behind the wheel. Gone was the girl who had sung all the lyrics to Ice Ice Baby on the way Illinois just to prove to Sam that she could and in her place, was a girl who was so lost in her own head, Sam was pretty sure that if she thought any harder, her brain would implode.

He had tried his best to keep the conversation as they made their way south as light as possible, but the laughter between them had disappeared, and he wanted it back. Sam and Faith switched as day gave way to night. While he drove down the dark highway, Sam decided he wanted to do something nice for Faith, something to cheer her up.

I might be able to come up with something if I wasn’t going through the fuckin’ Ozarks, He thought to himself. Sam glanced at Faith who was passed out next to him with her head on her shoulder, tucked between the seat and the door.

“Maybe I can get her one of those fancy coffees from the gas station or something,” Sam muttered to himself. Even as he said it, he chastised himself in his head for the shallowness and pure suckiness of it.

Sam wracked his brain, passing one of the many brightly lit billboards that dotted the fields along the highway when the idea finally came to him, one that he knew was perfect.

“Faith, Faith.”

Faith woke up slowly to the sound of her name. Her neck had stiffened up along with her other bruised parts of her body, and she winced at the discomfort in her bones as she stretched. She opened her eyes to find the car stopped and Sam standing next to her, with her door open.

“Time to switch?” She asked, not knowing exactly how long she had been asleep, other than it was daylight when she had last had her eyes open.

“Yeah, but, I got a surprise for ya first,” He said, causing Faith to scrunch up her face in confusion.

“Just c’mon,” Sam urged, motioning for her to get out of the car. Skeptically, Faith slid out of the passenger seat and shut the door behind her. The moonless sky was spattered with stars. The occasional cloud that passed over them combined with the unusually balmy temperature made for a beautiful night. Faith trudged blindly to the front of the car, feeling the gravel crackle under her feet when Sam turned and grabbed her shoulders stopping her.

“Alright, wait here and close your eyes,” Sam instructed her, a hint of happy anxiousness creeping into his voice.

“Come on Sam,” She groaned grumpily and dug her hands into the pockets of her jeans.

“Just, trust me on this. Please? C’mon, close ‘em, you know you wanna.” He taunted her.

Faith sighed and obliged, closing her eyes and folding her arms across her chest.

“No, I really don’t,” She muttered under her breath. She could hear as Sam opened the car door, clicked the headlights on and close it again. The frayed ends of her nerves zinged for a minute until she heard the crunch of his boots over the gravel. Oh good, he’s not ditching me, she thought fleetingly.

“Keep them closed.”

“Where the hell are we?”

“Hang on. Just one more second… Ok, now you can open them.”

Faith opened her eyes, the object in front of her making them go wide with wonder. No more than ten yards in front of her, Samuel Drake stood proudly next to a comically large fork. The high-beam headlights of the car bathed the shiny utensil in a dazzling light, allowing Faith to appreciate the sheer size of it, even in the middle of the night. She looked around. A sign advertising the small town ahead of them and their famous fork was dimly lit down the road. As Sam pulled his phone from his jacket pocket, he cleared his throat dramatically.

“Welcome to the world’s largest fork! This fork stands 35 feet tall and is made of pure stainless steel. The fork was erected four years ago to celebrate the relocation of the Food Network to the nearby town of Cecee. This grand utensil that stands before you weighs in at an impressive of 11.2 tons! Well, holy shit!” Sam finished, surprised at the facts the webpage on his phone told him.

Faith ambled towards the fork, her face still fixed in awe as she stared up at it towering above her. She touched one of the large tines that anchored it in the ground. As she felt the cool steel under her hands, a small chuckle escaped from Faith's lips. Sam watched her, the girl he had met had started to emerge and bubble to the surface before his eyes slowly.

After a moment, he asked, “So, whaddya think?”

“You drove to see the worlds largest fork.”

“Yeah. Well, now I can say I’ve seen it, and you can too,” Sam answered, throwing Faith’s own words playfully back at her. “And I thought it might, ya know, cheer you up a little.”

Speechless at that moment, Faith could only offer Sam a goofy stunned smile. She couldn’t believe it. With the thought of massive treasure on the horizon, Samuel Drake cared about how she was doing. He could have driven straight through to the end of Florida and let her stew in her own head. Instead, he wanted to make sure she was ok, and he did it with a giant fork.

Holy crap, he gets me. Faith savored the revelation. She wasn’t used to that. She once had a boyfriend break up with her after six months because he couldn’t ‘get’ her, couldn’t understand her, that her personality was too weird. Sam Drake had managed to do it only knowing her a week.

Faith turned to look at Sam who was awaiting her reaction to his kind gesture. Closing the distance between them, she looked up at him, a warm grin plastered across his face. The headlights from their car causing the stubble to stand out on his strong jaw and bursting the gold flecks of hazel in his eyes, giving them the glow of a candle flame. Handsome and kind, a dangerous combination.

I really want to kiss him right now; the thought blossomed in her mind.

Sadly, another slithered in just as quickly.

As soon as this is over, it’s done. He’ll be gone, and you’ll be alone, again, the last sentence of the negativity reverberant in her head.

Instead of a kiss, she grabbed his hand in hers and gave it a gentle squeeze, letting her thumb caress the rough, bruised back of his.

“Thank you, Sam,” Faith said sincerely, giving him a grateful smile.

Shit, for a second there I thought she was gonna kiss me, Sam thought to himself, feeling a drop of disappointment. Kinda wish she did, allowing the truthful consciousness that he always pushed to the far depths of his mind to whisper to him.

“You’re welcome,” He replied, enjoying the feeling of his hand in hers. He shook off his deep thoughts and brought himself back to center.

“Geez, you had me nervous for a second there… I thought maybe you were gonna tell me to go fork myself,” Sam finished after a beat. Faith groaned playfully and let Sam’s hand drop from hers while he gave an amused chuckle.

“That was just awful!” Faith said as she shook her head.

“It wasn’t that bad!”

“Cutlery humor is not your specialty,” Faith said, heading back to the car, Sam in step behind her.

“No, but admit it, I’m still a funny guy.”

Faith stopped short at the front of the car.

“C’mon, admit it, you think I’m funny,” Sam said with a cocky grin.

“You’re hysterical, now fork over the keys,” Faith deadpanned as she held out her hand impatiently.

Sam’s cocky grin changed to a look of slack-jawed awe, causing the fragile stony look on Faith's face to give way to a triumphant happy laugh.

“You’re somethin’ else,” Sam said with an amused look as he fished the keys out of his pocket. Faith grabbed them with a confident smile and headed towards the driver’s seat. Sam let his head drop as he walked to his side of the car. An expression of relief and happiness on his face that stemmed from the thought in his head and his heart.

There she is.

#dangerous #sam drake fanfiction #sam drake x oc #samuel drake x oc #OC X Sam Drake #my writing

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charger-batteries · 4 years

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Apple iPhone 12 Pro Max Review

2020 is an anxious year. If that anxiety manifests for you in worrying that your smartphone will run out of charge, you might want to consider upgrading to the iPhone 12 Pro Max ($1,099 and up), a giant serving platter of a handset with the longest battery life of any iPhone, ever. It's also the largest, heaviest iPhone to date, and one of the most expensive, which makes it hard to recommend over our Editors' Choice award winners, the iPhone 12 mini ($699 and up) and the iPhone 12 Pro ($999 and up).

Before I continue, I should note that we also have reviews of the aforementioned iPhone 12 mini and iPhone 12 Pro, as well the iPhone 12 ($799 and up). These phones are comparable in many respects—with similar screen technologies, the same processor, and iOS 14—so here I'll focus on how the Pro Max is different from its siblings. If one of your questions about the iPhone experience isn't answered below, see our main iPhone 12 review.

It's a Big 'Un

Apple has had big phones for several years now, but the 12 Pro Max is even bigger. At 6.33 by 3.07 by 0.29 inches (HWD) and 8.03 ounces, it's slightly taller and heavier than the iPhone 11 Pro Max (6.22 by 3.06 by 0.32 inches, 7.97 ounces), and noticeably bigger and heavier than the iPhone XS Max (6.2 by 3.05 by 0.3 inches, 7.34 ounces). Like the 12 Pro, the Pro Max comes in your choice of dark blue, gold, gray, or silver, with a matte back and a shiny metal band around the edge.

The 12 Pro Max isn't the biggest popular flagship on the market, but it might be the heaviest. For starters, it's a whole 3.2 ounces heavier than the iPhone 12 mini. The Samsung Galaxy Note 20 Ultra is taller at 6.49 by 3.04 by 0.32 inches, but lighter at 7.34 ounces. That said, the Note 20 Ultra has real differentiators from Samsung's other phones in terms of stylus and camera capabilities. The Pro Max just isn't far enough from the 12 Pro in terms of power to justify the chonk.

One thing you get from the grand size is immediately evident: a 6.7-inch OLED screen. It's noticeably larger than the display on the other iPhones, and slightly brighter than the one on the iPhone 12 and 12 mini, at 800 maximum nits versus 625 for the lower-cost devices. All of the phones are quite usable in sunlight.

I use the Galaxy Note 20 Ultra as my primary work camera, as well as to test 5G bandwidth, so I've had my hands on a big phone a lot recently. Big phones are great for tired eyes and awful for tired hands. Text and icons on the 12 Pro Max's screen can be bigger than on other iPhones, or they can be the same size and give you added real estate. The phone's 2,778-by-1,284 resolution has over 200 vertical pixels more than the iPhone 12 and 12 Pro, which makes for an additional readable headline on NYTimes.com, or a few more lines of a PDF.

But I just can't use phones like this with one hand. My thumb doesn't reach across the screen, no matter how I position the phone. This creates a considerable problem when trying to take pictures with one hand if I want to use tap-to-focus, because there's just no way to reach the whole screen to tap. The phone fills up the pocket of my jeans entirely, and it's really heavy. It feels like a powerful tool, to be sure, but it doesn't feel like a handheld device.

Big Phone, Big Sound, Big Battery

The Pro Max has the same Apple A14 processor, running at 3GHz, as the other iPhone 12 models. The Pro and Pro Max have 6GB of RAM; the 12 and 12 mini have 4GB. The Pro models come in 128GB, 256GB, and 512GB storage capacities, while the lower-cost phones come in 64GB, 128GB, and 256GB levels.

The phone scores almost exactly the same on the Geekbench benchmark as the other iPhone 12 series phones, with a single-core score of 1,600 and a multi-core score of 4,099. It also scores much like the iPhone 12 and 12 Pro on most graphics benchmarks. The Pro Max did better than the other iPhones on Basemark Web, with a score of 656 compared with 600 to 602 for the other models, possibly reflecting its bigger canvas. It did a little worse on the GFXBench Car Chase onscreen benchmark, at 44fps versus 52–56fps for the other models, reflecting that it's harder to fill the bigger canvas.

In terms of connectivity, the Pro Max is on par with the other iPhone models. It can handle any form of 4G or 5G currently available in the US and Canada. Like the other models, it has dual-SIM capabilities with one SIM being an eSIM, so you can load a second subscription or number while traveling.

Tested with a very weak 5GHz Wi-Fi signal, the Pro Max didn't do any better than the iPhone 12 or 12 Pro. A bigger phone in this case doesn't mean better antennas; it just means better battery life.

It does mean slightly better speakers, though. I don't have a decibel meter on hand, but the iPhone 12 Pro Max feels like it has slightly bigger sound than the 12 Pro does. The iPhone 12 series in general all have terrific speakers for phones; you're not going to get a lot of bass, but they're relatively rich on the treble.

The Pro Max's greatest strength and major sales point is its battery life. At 3,687mAh, the 12 Pro Max's battery is actually a little smaller than the 11 Pro Max's, but the phone gets much longer battery test times because of more efficient hardware and software.

I primarily compared it with the other iPhone 12 models. Using our video rundown test, I got 10 hours, 37 minutes on the iPhone 12 mini; 12 hours, 24 minutes on the iPhone 12; 12 hours, 22 minutes on the 12 Pro; and a whopping 15 hours, 29 minutes on the iPhone 12 Pro Max. That's a major upgrade.

Looking at battery usage in the background, I let each phone sit for 14 hours overnight. The Pro Max lost 6% of its charge while the Pro lost 8% and the Mini lost 9%. (While I ran this test, I was doing something else with the iPhone 12, but the standard 12 and 12 Pro have the same screen and battery sizes, so I'd expect them to have similar results.) That's an advantage for anyone who forgets to plug their phone in.

Like all the other phones in the series, the iPhone 12 Pro Max doesn't come with a charger. Here's how to charge your iPhone 12.

High-End Cameras and Pro Photo Features

On paper, the Pro Max's camera has some advantages over all the other iPhone 12 cameras. The Pro Max has three rear lenses: a 12-megapixel, f/1.6 main camera; a 12-megapixel, f/2.4 ultrawide camera; and a 12-megapixel, f/2.2 2.5x zoom lens. That's a greater zoom than the iPhone 12 Pro's 2x sensor, although it collects a little less light (the 12 Pro is f/2.0). The front-facing 12-megapixel camera is the same on all the iPhone 12 models.

The Pro and Pro Max support bokeh Portrait mode at night; the mini and 12 do not. The Pro Max is the only phone in the lineup with sensor-shift image stabilization, which moves the sensor when the phone jerks or is bumped. Combined with the phone's LiDAR sensor (which is also on the Pro), that's supposed to deliver superior night shots.

Perhaps I'm just not enough of a pro photographer for the iPhone 12 Pro Max, but aside from the nominal increase in zoom, I just don't see any advantage of the Max over the smaller and less expensive iPhone 12 Pro in the photos I took.

Setting aside zoom, I see two advantages of either Pro phone over the less expensive 12 and the mini: the Night mode with bokeh, and the LiDAR-aided focus lock, which helped generally in close-up shots and in Portrait-mode shots of non-human objects such as a mug and an apple. (I didn't see any difference between the Pro and non-Pro phones in daylight, portrait-mode shots of humans.)

Shots taken with the Pro Max in low light, at f/1.6, look the same as shots taken with the iPhone 12 or even the mini. Night mode shots are also hard to tell apart.

The iPhone Pro line has some super-high-level camera features that the lower-cost iPhones don't, specifically ProRAW mode and Dolby Vision video capture at very high resolutions and frame rates. And the iPhone 12 Pro Max's large battery make it a good daylong companion if you're putting it on a tripod and shooting a ton of 4K video. I don't think of that as a tremendously common use for iPhone owners, though, putting the Pro Max's camera improvements at the level of niche appeal.

To give a counterexample of when a big, expensive phone does have a meaningful camera improvement, look back at the Samsung Galaxy Note 20 Ultra. There, a 5x optical zoom camera, not available on the S20 or S20+, gives you an entirely new perspective on the world, and the autofocus is considerably improved over the lower-priced phones.

To some extent, this is a win for Apple: I'm saying that the cameras on the $699 iPhone 12 mini are so good that the $1,099 iPhone 12 Pro Max isn't that much of a step up. But this doesn't help sell Pro Maxes.

Do You Need to Go Max?

I come to this review with a strong bias. If you've been reading my phone reviews for the past 15 years, first of all, thank you, and second of all, you know I've never been a fan of very large phones. I like my phones to be usable one-handed, out in the world, while my other hand is holding a child's hand or a shopping bag. For an exceedingly large, super-expensive phone to get my pick, it really needs to deliver groundbreaking features, like the Samsung Galaxy Note 20 Ultra does with its stylus and 5x zoom camera.

The iPhone 12 Pro Max doesn't get there for me. It costs $100 more than the iPhone 12 Pro, and it's less portable and easy to hold. Yes, it has very long battery life, but for the same price you can get an iPhone that actually fits in your hand and a supplementary battery to keep in your bag or your car. I find a stronger argument for the Pro Max for people who have very large hands and fingers, or people who have visual issues and find larger text and icons more usable. There's nothing wrong with the iPhone 12 Pro Max; it's just not the iPhone 12 with the broadest appeal.

Of this year's four new iPhones, I recommend the iPhone 12 mini (which costs $400 less than this phone) as the best overall value, and the iPhone 12 Pro for people who see the 2x zoom camera as a must. But if battery anxiety leads you to this half-pound phone, do whatever helps you get through this very stressful year.

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shitfics · 7 years

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One of These Nights (11/11); jongyu; pg

Jinki knows that he’s gay. What he doesn’t know is how to handle a crush on someone as entwined in the music industry as he is.

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6 - part 7 - part 8 - part 9 - part 10

AO3 Mirror

Aaand here’s the epilogue! I hope y’all like it! There will likely be nothing further for this au, since this wraps it up pretty much, but I’m happy to answer any questions about their future or the au in general. I really appreciate all the supportive messages and questions I’ve gotten throughout posting this monster of a fic, and ALSO all the patience y’all have had for my sporadic updates and disappearances.

Thanks also to my lovely wife @butchyobaggins for helping beta this and the past two parts, and to @jongyued for all her help and support throughout this whole fic journey! Shoutouts to @fleckle and @mscns also for helping me through the start of this au. And ofc, thanks to all y’all for the chapters you’ve read and messages you’ve sent! <3

***

The moment they finish bowing at the end of their Christmas-day performance, Jinki rocks back on his heels and glances off stage, impatient. He doesn’t want to spend an hour mingling with the staff and the other idols they always saw at these holiday things. He had promised Jonghyun they would spend some of the night together, even if it meant waiting until two in the morning when Jonghyun got back from his own Christmas broadcast.

After what feels like forever, they finally receive the signal to leave the stage. Jinki hurries back to their dressing room and changes out of the outfit he’d been stuffed into for their performance for his own sweater and simple black jeans. Just as he starts to fix his hair in the mirror, he sees Kibum enter the room and glance at the still-open bag by his side.

A slow grin spread across his lips. "Where you going tonight, old man? It looks like you packed enough clothes for tomorrow."

Jinki rolls his eyes. "I told you already — I'm going home for a bit before New Years."

The other members file into the room just as Kibum laughs. “Uh-huh. You’re heading to your parents, when it’s nearly midnight, because you’re just that filial.”

“Oh, Jinki-hyung’s going to his parents again?” Minho stares at Jinki’s frowning reflection in the mirror as he continues to fix his hair. "You sure, uh...put a lot of effort into looking good for a visit home."

Jinki turns around to glare at them and Taemin. Though he hadn’t said anything yet — and he’s done a perfect job of keeping the fact that he was dating Jonghyun a secret — he hadn’t done a good job of hiding the fact that Jinki is dating someone. It’d only taken one stupid knowing grin after someone had asked Jinki where he’d been all night for the members to run wild with speculation, and he knew protesting would get him nowhere.

As always, Taemin smiles at him guiltily and gives an unhelpful shrug. "Hyung’s parents are pretty polite, so I can see them appreciating him dressing nice."

Jino snorts. "Yeah, okay. Tell your girlfriend we all said hi — I hope you got her something nice."

"I don’t have time for a girlfriend, and I wouldn’t have time to shop for her even if I did." Jinki sighs and pulls his bag over his shoulder. It isn’t entirely a lie — he hadn’t had time to shop much, and since Jonghyun isn’t religious in the least, he’ll just be picking up a cake on the way to share.

"I’m sure she’ll forgive you, since you’re an idol," Kibum assures, expression still entirely mischievous. "Have fun with your ‘family’ tonight. Don’t do anything that could get caught on camera."

Jinki lets a small huff to hide his smile — as annoying as the members could be, it always amuses him how similar their concerns for him are. “Merry Christmas to you all, too.”

***

Despite all the traffic and his last-minute stop to purchase a cake, Jinki somehow reaches Jonghyun’s apartment before him. He presses the now-familiar code into the keypad of his door, then enters the empty apartment and flips on the kitchen light. After putting the cake in the fridge to keep it fresh, he heads to the bedroom to drop off his overnight bag and and steals a few candles from Jonghyun’s nightstand before returning to the kitchen.

He’s no romantic, but he thinks Jonghyun will appreciate it if he makes the table a look a little more special than usual.

He finishes placing the candles in the best arrangement he can come up with his limited skill, then pulls out his phone to pass the time. One game of Candy Pang later, he hears the click of the front door unlocking, and has to rush to light all the candles before Jonghyun reaches the room.

Just as Jonghyun steps into view, he flicks off the light and grins. “Hey, hyung.”

“Hey.” Jonghyun laughs. He blinks widely as his eyes adjust to the dimly-lit room, and Jinki uses the chance to steal a kiss from him. Jonghyun’s lips are spread in a wider smile when he pulls away. “I can’t believe you set up candles. And that you beat me here — I heard the broadcast was a big production.”

Jinki shrugs. “I left as soon as I could. Wasn’t too hard.”

“Lucky you.” Jonghyun sighs. “I had to do a lot of question-dodging to get away from work...everyone there is used to me being sad and single, so they’d always take me out for drinks after our show. I missed it last year, when I went to Japan, but they still roped me into going with them once I was back.” He shakes his head. “When I said I was seeing someone tonight, you can imagine how badly they wanted to know who it was.”

Jinki raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t they already know you were dating?”

“Kind of, but I don't think they realized it was serious. Most of them think it’s a girl, but Youngbae’s convinced I won’t give any names because it’s an actor. I don’t know why he thinks that, considering I have nothing to do with that industry...”

“I’m just glad he hasn’t guessed it was me.”

“Me too, honestly.” Jonghyun steps closer to him to run fingers through the hair on the back of his neck. “Did you cut your hair shorter? It looks different, but I can never tell if you got it cut when the style changes so much..."

"Just a bit of a trim — they say it’s it's a lot of effort to style when it's long, so they keep pushing me to cut it. But I know they're giving Taemin long hair for the next concept, though, so I think I can convince them to let me grow it out too."

"You'll look good either way, but I'll admit I'm interested in you growing it out again...I never got to play with it much when it was at its longest, since we weren’t dating yet.”

"You should have tried it anyway,” Jinki says. “Maybe we could have gotten together sooner."

With a small chuckle, Jonghyun pulls him into a kiss. "I'm plenty happy with how things worked out, I think."

"Me too." Jinki places his hands over Jonghyun's to late their fingers together, but Jonghyun pulls away quickly before he can.

“Sorry, hold on — I have a gift for you. I want you to open it here, since you set all this up.”

Jinki purses his lips. “I didn’t realize we were getting gifts. I only bought us a cake...”

“Trust me, a cake is perfect. And you bought me a new earring last week — that counts as enough.”

“If you say so, hyung.”

“I mean it,” Jonghyun says, entirely seriously. “You wait here, I’ll be right back.”

Jinki nods. He watches as Jonghyun rushes off to bedroom door, disappearing inside for a moment, then reemerges with a small, wrapped box in his hands. A flush rises on his cheeks when Jonghyun passes it to him with an eager smile and gestures for him to open it.

He slips his fingers under the paper, carefully unsticking the largest piece of tape without tearing the paper, then begins to unwrap it from around the corners.

Jonghyun raises an eyebrow at his method. "I don't think I've ever seen anyone unwrap something so carefully."

"You put a lot of effort into doing it well, taking my time is the least I could do."

“The store did it, actually...”

Jinki laughs. “Okay, then I won’t feel bad if I tear it.”

He rushes through unwrapping the rest, no longer feeling guilty when the paper tears to reveal a solid black box. From the weight and size of it, he’d had suspicions it might be jewelry, but now he’s nearly certain.

Jinki’s cheeks heat as he stares at the box. Though he had never minded Jonghyun doting on him, he's still getting used to how much more intense it’d gotten since they became partners.

He looks up at Jonghyun. "...Did you get me jewelry, hyung?"

"Just finish opening it,” Jonghyun mumbles, equally embarrassed.

Jinki lifts the lid quietly. A plain silver ring rests inside, and when he begins to pull it out, he realizes that what he thought was a single ring is actually two, locked together by a small design on the band.

He stares at them, then at Jonghyun. "There's two rings?"

"Yeah." Jonghyun reaches over to help him separate them with a shy smile. "I know it's kind of cheesy, and hopefully not too soon...I just remember you sounded kind of sad that we could never have obvious couple things, so I thought something subtle might be nice...”

"We spent enough time pining after each other, so it’ll never be too soon." Jinki smiles and slips one of the rings onto his fingers. He holds up his hand to inspect it, appreciating the way the candlelight makes the silver glint. "I really like it. You don’t think people will be able to tell we're wearing part of a set?"

"I thought of that issue, actually." Jonghyun takes the box from Jinki's hands and removes the cushion the ring had been imbedded in, revealing a thin silver chain underneath. "The rings might be obvious if we both wore them on the same finger or on our hands, so I bought a chain to wear mine around my neck."

“That’s really smart," Jinki says, impressed. Picking up the chain out of the box, he runs a finger along Jonghyun's neck, "Do you want me to put yours on for you?"

Jonghyun shivers involuntarily. "S-sure."

Grinning, Jinki gestures for Jonghyun to turn around and take a seat at one of the chairs of the nearby table. He waits for Jonghyun to settle, then leans down and threads the chain through the ring and lets it rest over Jonghyun’s collar. He brushes his fingers against Jonghyun’s collarbone as he slips his fingers back to close the clasp.

Jonghyun’s breathing stutters. Even without being able to see his face, Jinki knows that Jonghyun’s eyes are fluttering shut from the sensation. He’s learned from experience that Jonghyun’s neck and collar is the most sensitive part of him.

When he finally pulls back, Jonghyun turns around to look at him over his shoulder. “I’m guessing you like them, then?”

"I like them a lot." Jinki jerks the chair back just enough to fit himself between the table and Jonghyun when he circles to the other side. Placing a knee between Jonghyun’s legs, he eyes the necklace appreciatively, then slips a hand over Jonghyun's chest, stopping once his new ring aligns with the just above the low neckline of his shirt. “It looks good on you.”

Jonghyun smiles coyly, lip between his teeth, and looks up at him through his lashes. “I’m guessing so, since you’re giving me that look. But what about the cake you got me?”

"It'll last in the fridge, I’m sure." Jinki loops his arms around Jonghyun’s neck as he straddles the chair, then slowly lowers himself into Jonghyun's lap. Jinki catches his chin with his hand, then kisses him deeply, until he can feel Jonghyun harden underneath him. "Besides, hyung...I can think of a better present for tonight.”

“You’re cheesy, Jinki-yah.” Jonghyun slips his thumbs beneath the waist of his jeans. “But I like it.”

#jongyu #hyung au #long fic #this has been such a long journey ;-; thanks yall!

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westphotolukedas · 4 years

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Nadav Kander - The Meeting

210220

Nadav Kander (Born 1961) is the first photographer that I cite in conversation about which practitioner has influenced me the most. He was born in Tel Aviv and based in London, although he does not regard himself to be British. His photographs are a part of the collections at the National Portrait Gallery and Victoria and Albert Museum.

Kander began taking pictures at 13 years old with a Pentax camera. In the South African Air Force, he processed film and printed aerial photographs. In 1986, he moved to London where he currently resides with his wife and three children. Portraiture and landscape photography are the main genres that he is best known. I have an appreciation for the consistency in his career, which has traversed 30 years across fine art and commercial platforms. He has photographed celebrities, models and a multitude of other sitters. In 2009, his 52 portraits published in The New York Times Magazine portrayed President Barack Obama and his closest associates. It is the largest portfolio of work that the publication has ever showcased. Later that year, Kander was awarded the prestigious Prix Pictet Earth for Yangtze - The Long River (2008). The shortlist of nominees included Ed Kashi, Andreas Gursky and Naoya Hatakeyama. The list of his other awards is extensive and includes a World Press Photo Award 2013 and 2014, Honorary Fellowship from The Royal Photographic Society 2015 and Outstanding Contribution to Photography from Sony World Photography 2019. (Lens Culture, 2020)

During the World Press Photo Exhibition 2014 at the Southbank Centre, London, I was particularly taken by Kander’s 3rd Prize entry of actor Chiwetel Ejiofor. The photograph first appeared in New York Magazine as a staged portrait to commemorate the British actor. Ejiofor, played a black man kidnapped in 19th Century America and sold into the slave trade in the film 12 Years a Slave (2013). He received an Oscar nomination for the role and won Best Actor at the BAFTA awards. Actors have a trained ability to respond to a camera. He appears poised yet relaxed. Kander’s characteristic turquoise key light is apparent with a red back light to highlight the outline of the sitter. The lack of a fill light leaves a proportionate amount of this face in an enigmatic shadow. This low-key lighting design gives the photograph a sombre tone. Emphasis is placed upon Ejiofor’s eyes, which reveals the complexity of his role in the film. As a viewer of the work in person, I felt a closer affinity to the subject when it was close to life sized. Its considered forms had a significant presence akin to a drawing, painting or sculpture. (World Press Photo, 2020)

The Meeting (2019) is a book that acts as a homage to Kander’s career, with photography from his early foray into the genre to illustrious works recognised within the fine art and academic communities. The annotations add insightful anecdotes about each piece and the man himself. The opening, entitled ‘The Triangle’ outlines a relationship of personal interest to me between sitter, photographer and viewer.

‘I don’t photograph to tell stories. I photograph to make stories. The viewer, if they hold their gaze long enough, becomes the author of the work’s meaning.

Consider there’s a metaphorical suitcase packed with white, grey and darker clothing that we carry around with us wherever we go. When we meet someone, we choose what items to show; maybe only clean white shirts, perhaps darker one. This unpacking is symbolic of a meeting. Much like when I work with a sitter. Our stories collide and change depending on the day, the weather, our emotional states.

If I manage to make a portrait that stirs a viewer then they complete what I call ‘The Triangle’ by bringing their own story or state of mind to the picture. This is fundamental to me, but often missed or misunderstood, because photography is still considered by many to be a record of an event. It is that; but it is not only that. How can it be?

Perhaps if we replace the word ‘photographer’ with ‘poet’ the point becomes clear. It is accepted wisdom when it comes to poetry that every individual reader finds his or her own meaning in the poem and this perspective is unique - no more less valid that yours or mine. The same, in my view, is true of photography.’

In email correspondence between 4th and 28th April 2019 with David Campany, Kander describes his photographic process. These extracts resonated with me as a practitioner of portraiture and landscape photography.

NK - I’ve walked down one road since I started photographing when I was 13. I feel I haven’t deviated at all. I still need my work to strike the same chords in me that I’ve always longed and striven for. My photographs (however varied a viewer might find them) come from the same inner place. I seem to revisit a slowed-down reality, which is very beautiful and important to me. Slow, quiet and slightly uneasy, alluding to more going on beneath what you first see. The subconscious need to express what feels meaningful and profound never goes away. I just try many ways to revisit it, to come at it from different directions.

DC - The portraits you’ve made seem to have quite a special place in your work. As if a face, or a person, is a way to get to the tension between surface and depth. I feel the human face is somehow already an image before it’s photographed. It’s already a kind of presentation, or representation of the self, although a very fragile and elusive one.

NK - That is beautifully put! Yes, my photographs of people are an essential part of my practice.

They follow on from my photographing landscape. When first dealing with landscape I realised it wasn’t the natural environment I was after, but the man-altered landscape. I focused on a darker nature, our destructive ambivalence to our surroundings, but I shrouded these scenes in beauty using compositions that, purely from their form, colour and weight, would have an effect on me apart from the information shown.

DC - Portraiture is often thought of as a two-way exchange, between photographer and sitter, but you’ve talked often of the viewer being crucial to meaning. That said, there’s a real intimacy to your portraits, as if these people have been given the freedom to forget their audience momentarily. We viewers can look, without feeling we’re being performed to. Is this how it is?

NK - I’ve had to think a long time about your question. Much of what I do is intuitive so finding the words is difficult. When I’m in front of a person (or a landscape for that matter), there’s nothing in my head that matters. I’m just looking with so much concentration that sometimes it feels as if I might explode. I do not want to be stirred so badly! All I want is for something to show itself, something that if I release the shutter will become an image that will stir me and unsettle me. To get close to this I must direct people very softly, subtly, and create the appropriate light so that they experience something of themselves. Any frivolous act for the viewer will never work; it would appear transparent. It has to be just for them and me. Only once this is successful does the viewer enter and make up the triangle. Artist, subject and viewer - each one a part of the whole.

From beneath the surface beauty, comes an existential call that touches on questions of destiny and the unknown. The works of Hans Bellmer, Man Ray, Raoul Hausmann, Dalí and Hans (Jean) Arp have also had a big influence on me. Although my work is not surreal, the feeling I get from the work of these artists is something I always search for. For example Jean Arp’s sculptures were very informative when I began photographing the nudes that became the series ‘Bodies - 6 Women, 1 Man’.

DC - It’s interesting that you put it that way. Very often I find myself wondering what landscapes your sitters were in just before they came to you, what it was - out there in the world - that is on their mind as you make the photograph.

NK - A portrait is one way of looking at some facets of our condition. There’s a precious and beautiful flicker of understanding, or the opposite, that shows itself for short periods and disappears. These periods, which I must see and try to photograph, are often responses to the light or the atmosphere that the light imbues. I must try to recognise them as an image that has what I love; depth of feeling, vulnerability and poise, pride and soul, a recognition of something more than just this moment now. Little of this clear to me, but this is the best I can do to explain it. (Kander, 2020)

Summary

It is an inevitability that a photographer emulates their heroes. Whenever I read that someone like Kander also had starting points for their practice, I am encouraged. I have covered in detail the practitioners that have inspired me for this project - Smith, Andrew, Refn, Sigel and Norwood. There are blog posts committed to each of them. However, I felt that Kander required more substantial meditation. There are parallels between his voice and my own - low key lighting and moody colour saturation delivered with a quiet temperament. He reveals that these attributes are the reflection of triangles that he forms between himself, his sitter and viewer. A sitter may choose to present themselves in any number of ways to his lens then this narrative is open for further interpretation by anyone that encounters his imagery. During his interview with Campany, he explains that he implements soft direction, free of frivolity to search for each photograph. He also explains a slow and quietened reality that he occupies beneath the surface appearance of what he sees.

The Ejiofor portrait inspired me during a formative stage of my photography. There is overlap with the other photographers and cinematographers that I have mentioned. Low key lighting is a continuous theme; however, Kander’s renderings have more depth. He is reluctant for media attention and I found The Meeting (2019) to be highly enlightening. His is the work of a ‘poet’ acting as a ‘photographer’, to use his own metaphor. As an analytical student, I have attempted to dissect what makes Kander, Kander. An awareness of his process is just the beginning. My lighting will resemble his, in addition my direction style is already collaborative instead of dictatorial. Any additional intricacies are unique to his voice. As I develop as a photographer myself, I am hopeful to have as reputable career and recognition. There are plenty more triangles that I am eager to construct.

Bibliography

Kander, N. (2019). The Meeting. London: Steidl

Lens Culture (2020). Biography. Lens Culture. Available from

www.lensculture.com/nadav-kander

[Accessed 10/04/2020]

World Press Photo (2020). 2014 Photo Contest. World Press Photo. Available from

www.worldpressphoto.org/collection/photo/2014/29789/1/2014-Nadav-Kander-PS3

[Accessed 10/04/2020]

Nadav Kander, Chiwetel Ejiofor, 2014

#theconstructedphotograph #westphoto #nadavkander

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bigyack-com · 4 years

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Oil Markets Are a Mess. Can World Leaders Straighten Them Out?

Usually it’s the world’s major oil-producing countries that step in when a big drop in prices roils the oil market. But these are not normal times.On Friday, a day after the Organization of the Petroleum Exporting Countries and other producers led by Russia are set to hold their own meeting, representatives of the Group of 20 wealthy nations are expected to hold a virtual conference to try to stem the recent plunge in energy prices.The volatile oil markets of recent weeks threaten to bankrupt energy companies across the world, causing enormous job losses and threatening financial institutions that have backed the industry.The pandemic has played a critical role in this drama, but there is also a lot of jockeying among the three oil superpowers: Saudi Arabia and Russia, two longtime petro-rivals, and the United States, whose rising prominence as an oil exporter has disrupted the industry.It is far from clear that the G20 meeting will calm volatile markets. The fact that the meeting is occurring, though, may signal the beginning of a very different approach that could be a first step in restoring confidence.“A lot of countries, including those with strong free-market beliefs and credentials, seem to be coming over to the view that the global oil business needs to be managed to an extent, at least from time to time,” said Bhushan Bahree, an executive director at IHS Markit, a research firm.But are the United States, Russia and Saudi Arabia ready to agree? The unusual approach underscores the turmoil in the markets.

How did the oil markets go haywire?

Demand for oil has evaporated as commercial aircraft are grounded, road traffic has been sharply reduced and about half the world’s population is under some sort of order to stay home to stop the spread of the coronavirus, which has killed over 82,000 people.The world is using about 25 percent less oil than it typically does, a jarring collapse in an industry known for only gradual fluctuations in demand.But fighting among some of the largest producers has aggravated the volatility.Instead of curtailing production to meet the reduced appetite for oil, the Saudis and allied producers ramped up output in a tiff with Moscow, as an agreement between Russia and OPEC on trimming output expired.This helped drive prices even lower. West Texas Intermediate, the U.S. benchmark, scraped the $20-a-barrel level in late March. Some crude in the United States fell well below $10 a barrel. Prices at this level could prove catastrophic for the U.S. shale industry — a likely goal of Saudi and Russian oil producers.Faced with steep job losses in oil states like Texas and Oklahoma, President Trump is pressuring Saudi Arabia and Russia to end their feud.The Saudis, worried by the political pressure from the United States, are showing signs that they are willing to try to find a solution.The Saudis are thinking, “We need to get the heat off of us in terms of U.S. anger,” said Robert McNally, a White House energy adviser in the George W. Bush administration. He added, “There is a risk of a rupture there that Riyadh cannot take too lightly.”

The Saudis want to be in charge.

Oil analysts who track Saudi Arabia said the price war with Russia had been incited by frustration by Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman, the kingdom’s de facto ruler, with Russia for not abiding by previous agreements on output aimed at keeping prices up.Prince Mohammed could have been looking for other benefits as well. In the long term, the kingdom realizes that its vast reserves of oil could lose value as concern about climate change spreads, so it wants to get as much from its reserves as possible to invest in other sectors. Prince Mohammed also wanted to chip away at the market share held by U.S. shale producers, whose production costs per barrel are much higher than Saudi Arabia’s.“They don’t mind if the U.S. industry goes somewhat down the drain, because that will cut some production, but they really want Russia to bend to their view,” said Jean-François Seznec, nonresident senior fellow at the Atlantic Council.But in starting the price war by ramping up the kingdom’s own production, Prince Mohammed drastically underestimated how greatly the coronavirus pandemic would reduce demand. The move has caused consternation among other oil-producing nations, which has led Saudi Arabia to start looking for a new deal on production limits.“Every oil producer in the world is howling about this,” said Jim Krane, an energy fellow at Rice University’s Baker Institute.In addition, low prices are damaging the Saudi economy, reducing the crown prince’s resources as he pushes ambitious plans to diversify it away from oil.Still, if the Saudis do manage to persuade others to join in cuts, the pain may be worth it, from Riyadh’s point of view.The Saudis will “have preserved the principle that everyone must honor their commitments,” said Helima Croft, analyst at RBC Capital Markets, an investment bank.

Russia wants to slow down the U.S. oil industry.

For years, Russia had been watching nervously as a surge in shale production turned the United States from a large oil importer to an increasingly important exporter.In the view of Russian nationalists, earlier production-cut agreements with OPEC helped Russia by lifting the global price of oil, a critical export, but also helped the U.S. shale oil industry.Last month, Russia dug in its heels, seemingly at the worst time for oil markets. At a meeting in Vienna on March 6, the energy minister, Aleksandr Novak, refused to go along with a Saudi request for deeper production cuts, and the two countries’ 2016 oil policy agreement unraveled. The rupture handed a victory to Igor I. Sechin, the head of the Russian state oil giant Rosneft, who had argued that price supports helped the Americans.“Is there any point in cutting production in the future if other countries are going to increase?” Mr. Sechin asked in an interview with Russian state television as oil prices tumbled in late March.Russia’s relatively cheap production costs, he said, could also help it hold out in a price war with Saudi Arabia.On the other hand, with prices having plummeted and some U.S. oil producers crying foul and willing to talk, Russian officials are at least showing an interest in going back to the table. On Friday, President Vladimir V. Putin said Russia was ready to resume cooperation with the Saudis and even to cooperate with the United States. But how much production Russia will agree to cut remains to be seen.

The U.S. wants low prices, but not this low.

It is hard to see how a global solution can be reached without the United States, now a top-three oil power.American producers and the Trump administration share a goal: balance the market to stabilize oil prices and save the industry from a rash of bankruptcies and the potential loss of more than 100,000 jobs. But there is little common ground on how to do that beyond industry support for Mr. Trump’s jawboning of Saudi Arabia and Russia to cut production by 10 million barrels or more.Mr. Trump has long been a critic of OPEC and a cheerleader for lower gasoline prices. Now faced with suggestions of U.S. coordination with OPEC, he has signaled resistance to forcing American companies to drop production. A few, however, seek some form of coordination.Pioneer Natural Resources and Parsley Energy, two medium-size Texas oil companies, are calling on the Texas Railroad Commission, the state oil and gas regulator, to mandate large production cuts across the state, which is by far the biggest U.S. producer. The commission plans a hearing on the proposed cuts on Tuesday and a vote on the proposal a week later, well after OPEC and its associate countries meet on Thursday. Only one of the three commissioners has voiced support for the measure, which Exxon Mobil and other large producers oppose.“The industry is totally at odds with each other,” said Scott Sheffield, Pioneer Natural Resource’s chief executive.Mike Sommers, president of the American Petroleum Institute, the main industry lobbying group, said oil companies opposed tariffs on Saudi and Russian oil — a suggestion from some Republicans in Congress — as an infringement on free enterprise and free trade. On the other hand, Mr. Sommers said that the current glut was “80 percent a demand issue related to the coronavirus,” and that American production would naturally decline as producers cut investments in exploration and production.“Already production is being hemmed in, and I would suspect a lot more is going to be,” he added.

What might be the terms of a deal?

Analysts say producing countries are working toward an announcement of cuts on the order of 10 million to 15 million barrels a day.Just where such cuts would come from is likely to be the subject of difficult negotiations.Relatively straightforward trims might be found among OPEC’s members and affiliate countries. In the United States, although coordinated cuts would be unlikely, production might decline through slower drilling and planned shutdowns.American oil production between January and March declined by 300,000 barrels a day to 13 million barrels, according to Energy Department estimates, and will fall by two million barrels more by the end of the year.But that may not be enough for Russia, Saudi Arabia and its OPEC allies. On Wednesday, a Kremlin spokesman said natural declines in the United States should not count as cuts.

Would it have any impact on the glut of oil?

The cuts being discussed would probably make only a modest dent in the oversupply that is filling up global oil tanks and tankers at sea. Even a cut of up to 15 million barrels “will only be enough to scratch the surface,” said Bjornar Tonhaugen, head of oil markets at Rystad Energy, a Norwegian consultancy.He added that oil storage “could fill within 30 days” and cause sudden shutdowns in production from Canada to Asia.On the other hand, while few analysts expect announcements of sufficiently large and verifiable production trims to head off the glut, the burst of activity has bolstered prices and lightened the gloomy mood in the markets.“The fact that this meeting is coming together in such a difficult geopolitical context is a good signal, “ said Fatih Birol, executive director of the International Energy Agency, a Paris-based watchdog. Read the full article

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Arplis - News: Dudley Stephens Review + Comparison Style Guide (and 20% off Discount Code!)

Our normal Friday post (Weekend Update) has been moved to tomorrow so I can share a VERY exciting post with you guys!! You know I've been loving the Dudley Stephens fleeces for the past year and before the winter really hits (and everything is sold out), I wanted to round up and talk about all of their fleece styles. How they fit, what they look like, which one I like the best... AND I'm sharing a 20% off code tha is valid for TODAY ONLY! So lets get into it... Park Slope: This was my first and favorite style from the bunch. It's just a classic and for a good reason! I would say this is my favorite of the bunch and have it in navy, natural blush, and white. I would say it's their most popular style and I think the easist to style and wear. It has the classic stand up turtleneck that I love for fall and winter, it hits right below the waist and has a roomier fit in the bodice. If you're new to Dudley Stephens, I highly recommend this as your first buy! Sizing: It runs TTS, and I'm wearing a size M Cobble Hill: The Cobble Hill is what Dudley Stephens is known for and what I would call their hero fleece. It is similar to the Park Slope with the same standup turtleneck (that is seriously the best) but is much longer in the body and features a bell-shaped silhouette. It also has two wonderful side pockets along the hem that are larger than you would think (can easily hold a phone and keys). I personally love to wear this with leggings to run out the door in. It's perfect for chilly mornings when I walk the dogs or days when you just want to be comfortable. I don't love it with jeans since it is so much longer and rubs against them -- but that is just my personal preference! I'm 5'6, and it comes well below my butt, so there is no issue when wearing leggings. My hips are also the widest part of my body, and the M, like the above, fits great! The bell shape of the fleece really helps it not feel as tight but also not as boxy since it is longer. Sizing: It runs TTS, and I'm wearing a size M Brighton Boatneck: After the Park Slope style, this is my second favorite of the bunch. The wider neck style makes it really comfortable and easy to wear. I especially love it because it's easy to layer and style with other items! There are times when the turtleneck styles above will rub on my chin or transfer a lot of makeup, but this does neither of those things. It's very reminiscent of a Jackie-O neckline and has such a traditional feel about it. I love that it's so different than conventional sweaters since it has a small mock neck. It's also great for those (like my mom) who love fleeces like this but don't like turtlenecks! It's the exact same in terms of fit and style as the park slope but just with an open neckline! Sizing: It runs TTS, and I'm wearing a size M Brighton Boatneck in Terry Fleece: Along with expanding their fleece styles, Dudley Stephens is also expanding their fleece materials, and one that is not to be missed is the terry fleece! The regular fleece is what DS calls "vello fleece" and is the traditional fleece material that people typically associate with (but theirs is much softer). It's tightly woven, super warm and made from recycled yarn. The terry fleece is similar to a sweatshirt material on the inside and a towel like material on the outside so it's really the best of all worlds! I personally love it for all seasons since it's a much lighter material. I picked this one up specifically last spring to help me transition from cold to warm, and it was a dream. The vello fleece is hot and will keep you super warm, so if you're someone who gets hot easily -- the terry fleece is a better option for you! Even better, almost all their styles come in a terry fleece option: the brighton boatneck, the cobble hill, highland high-low, park slope, and the carroll street top. Sizing: It runs TTS, and I'm wearing a size M Brighton Boatneck in Bubble Fleece: In case you didn't love the brighton boatneck style enough, they also have it in a bubble fleece! This is a super soft eyelash like material that is really comfortable and different. I love pairing it with different textures and styles because it just seems to go with everything. I personally have found that this type of fleece has more give to it and stretches out more than the other two styles. It is much roomier than the traditional vello or terry fleece! It is still very warm but also in a strange way more breathable due to the material. In my YouTube video, you can see more of how it's able to be seen through when looked at closely. I personally love to layer this sweater! This sweater (unlike the others) does shed a little when you first wear it. I have yet to wash it, but I'm interested in knowing if it happens after that, as well. If you fall in love with the bubble fleece, you can also check it out in their bijou cardigan style, as well! Sizing: It runs TTS, and I'm wearing a size M. Out of all the styles, this one stretches out the most in the hem and sleeves (which I really like! It like molds to your body). Highland High Low: This is marketed as a great athleisure piece, and I agree! For the sake of the review, I wore it with jeans so the comparison would be similar throughout -- but I think it would be best worn with jeans. It has a similar boat neck style as the brighton fleece but without any kind of lip or mock neck around it. As the name suggests, it's higher in the front and lower in the back -- but it is not nearly as low as the cobble hill! I would say its right in between both the park slope and cobble hill, in the front and back of the fleece. It also has a full front pocket like a great sweatshirt does! I personally think this is my least favorite of the bunch (as of now), but I do want to try it out more going to and from the gym! I just think that where it hits on my frame isn't the most flattering of their styles. I'm not wearing the right pants with it, but I did think it was a bit tighter in the hips than I wanted! Sizing: It runs TTS, and I'm wearing a size M. Calyer Cowl Neck: I love the look of this as it's much more dressed up and formal (I think) and gives a very ~fancy~ lady vibe lol. I can totally see my sister wearing this all the time since her style is more formal than my own. I feel like this would be an excellent option for the office or events during the fall and winter when you need to look a little more dressed up. At first, I did find the neckline hard to place on my own, but after a few wears, I got it down. Above, I wore it two different ways: one more taught and on my shoulders and the other a little looser above my shoulders. I do have to admit I love the way this style pictures and how I look in it. I wouldn't wear it with jeans because it is tight in the hips -- I think either a great skirt, skinny work pants or leggings would be a great pairing with this style! Out of all the fleeces, I would say this one does run the smallest. As you can see, it is very tight in the hips -- not too tight, but tight enough! It does come right at the bottom of my butt, which is great to wear with leggings. The calyer also has side pockets (similar to the cobble hill) and, unlike all the others above, has a 3/4 sleeve, which I think is a subtle difference! I think it would be too much with a full sleeve -- this makes it seem a lot more feminine and compliments the overall silhouette. Sizing: I would say it runs on the smaller side but I am still wearing an M, and this is the right size for me. If you are larger in the hips and want it roomier, I would suggest sizing up. -------- And here comes the fun part!!! I reached out to the Dudley Stephens team and asked if they had any promos going on, and they (graciously) offered a 20% off code that is valid FOR ONE DAY ONLY! So if you're one of the lucky ones reading this on October 18th, then use code: BASES20 for 20% off your entire order. The code is valid from 7am ET to 11:59pm ET, so get to shopping!!! If you're here past the coupon code date, you can click here for $25 off your first order at Dudley Stephens! Dudley Stephens Sizing: I'm 5'6/150 and an M/6 in almost everything I wear. For all the items above, I took an M, and it was perfect. I truly believe all Dudley Stephens pieces run TTS and, if anything, size up to give you more room. The only item that was close to being "too small" would be the cowl neck, but even that was just fine! The largest part of my body is my hips, and I've had no issue! I'm usually a 28/8/L in pants. Same goes for my bust, I'd a 34DD and didn't think anything was too tight across my chest. For sure, stick with your normal size. They do not shrink when washed (they suggest not drying them -- but rather hang dry). On their FAQ page, they do mention that it's best to size up if you're over 5'9 and size down if you're under 5'2. They also share a size chart if you're curious about traditional size comparisons! Dudley Stephens Rewards: DS also recently launched a rewards program that can help you save on future purchases! Just by signing up, you can get 100 in pineapple points (where every point = $1). You can also gain points by reading their blog, following on social and sharing your birthday (which in total can get you $250 points aka $25 off). If you're looking to give your support and also save a few bucks, this is a great option for you!! If you're here past the coupon code date, you can click here for $25 off your first order at Dudley Stephens! Dudley Stephens Q&A: Q: Which style is the most office-appropriate? A: I think the Calyer cowl neck and the Brighton boatneck are the most office-appropriate if your office leans more on the formal side. I worked in a super casual office, and I wore my Park Slope style all the time, and it was great! Q: Are they really worth the price tag? A: If you can afford it, yes! Just like with anything I promote, if you have the money and you believe you'll wear it, yes, it is worth the price tag. I was debating over it for a long time and finally just pulled the trigger to see what it's all about, and I couldn't stop wearing it. I know a lot of girls who have them and swear by them. There is a reason they have such a strong and engaged following! It's also why they're never in stock -- they are that good! To save some money, you can use the code "BASES20" for 20% off (today only), or you can sign up for their rewards program and save that way as well! Q: How do they wash/hold up? What is the wash/care for the fleece? A: For wash, they suggest you wash inside out with like colors and hang to dry. On their FAQ page, they say to avoid bleach, washing with towels, ironing, dry cleaning, fabric softeners. They hold up really well in the wash, and (dare I say) get softer and more worn-in overtime!! Q: Do they pill? Does it shed or attract lint? Is it static-y? A: They do not pill, and I've never had issues with static! In terms of lint/pet hair, they do pick up a normal amount over time (pictured below is my most worn + washed fleece). But it's nothing out of the ordinary for a fleece material. If you're worried about something like this, I would suggest getting a mid to light color like the natural blush or the camel color! Q: Do they have any stretch? A: They stretch some overtime, but nothing very noticeable. I like that they keep their true shape and are more form-fitting than baggy. Out of all the styles I've tried, I think the bubble fleece boatneck stretches the most (in the sleeves and hemline/bodice). Q: If I'm top heavy, will it make me look frumpy? What is the sizing like? A: I don’t think it will, but you know your body best! I'm a 34DD, and you tell me if I look frumpy or not (as I think I have a larger chest). All the styles are more form-flattering than you would think for a fleece sweater. I do suggest scrolling through their Instagram as they feature a ton of women and their different bodies so you can see someone similar to you and how it looks on them! Q: What piece and color do you think is the most versatile? A: In terms of versatility, I think it would be the Brighton boatneck -- just because the wider collar makes it great for layering and showing off a lower collar underneath (like this post!). For color, this is obviously very personal in terms of your preference, but I think the natural blush is a great color! Q: Are they tight in the hips? A: Some styles are tighter than others like the Highland high-low and the Cayler cowl neck. The park slope and the Brighton boatneck hit just above/at the hips, so there is no issue, and the cobble hill has a bell shape to accommodate the tush! Q: How warm is it? A: It's SO WARM! Like get ready. It's perfect for fall and winter. But if you run hot, I suggest checking out the terry fleece as it's a lighter fleece option. Q: What does the material feel like? A: It's super soft and feels like a really nice fleece blanket that just hugs you all day long lol. Q: Do I need to size up if I want to layer? Or will it make me look frumpy? A: I've been able to layer just fine without sizing up. The sleeves will get tighter, but that's the case with all sweaters. I personally like to layer these fleeces with lighter material items or sleeveless tops (with fun collars, so they peek out). I don't know how it will look in terms of frump, but I suggest to always get your normal size because it would be how you'd wear it the most! Q: Can you compare the two types of fleece options for me? A: Yes! I talked about it a little above under the Brighton styles but here is how they listed out all four(!) of their fleece styles: Classic Vello Fleece — Soft, tightly woven, and warm, this fabric is most like the “traditional” fabric people associate with fleece (but ours is extra cozy!). Double-Layer Vello Fleece — Like the Classic, only doubled up for extra warmth and softness. Terry Fleece — Think sweatshirt fabric (the most luxurious sweatshirt you can imagine), this versatile, four-season fabric has a hook-and-loop texture that’s almost towel-like. Absorbent and water-shedding like one, too. Ribbed Fleece — Silky-soft and dimensionally textured, our ribbed fleece (launching in May 2019!) is lightweight and quick-drying for four-season versatility. Q: Do the collars keep their shape? Can you roll them down? A: Yes, they do! They are great at holding their shape, and the only time I've seen a difference is with the terry fleece. It still stands tall without issue but can buckle in depending on how you're wearing it. For all styles, whenever you wear a jacket or vest, it can get ruffled, but that is normal for any turtleneck. And yes, you can roll down the cobble hill and park slope styles without any issue (I shared that in my YouTube video!) #PromoCode #Fall #FallFashion #Shopping #Fashion

Arplis - News source https://arplis.com/blogs/news/dudley-stephens-review-comparison-style-guide-and-20-off-discount-code

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