#excellent street images

[streetsofdublin]

A TRIBUTE TO SINEAD

I visited Phoenix Park on Friday and at the bandstand near the Zoo I came across what I would describe as an impromptu memorial to Sinéad O'Connor … sorry about the quality of the photographs but my camera was giving me problems

A MEMORIAL AT A THE BANDSTAND IN PHOENIX PARK Sinéad O’Connor was a truly unique and iconic artist, and her death is a great loss to the world. In her memory there have been a number of memorials. I visited Phoenix Park on Friday and at the bandstand near the Zoo I came across what I would describe as an impromptu memorial to Sinéad O’Connor … sorry about the quality of the photographs but my…

[floorpancakes]

[cuntylestat]

i saw the tags on this post i made and i find this super interesting because i don't think the problem was actually that he just doesn't have enough light - it's a hindrance for street photography, sure, but a tripod and a shutter cable could solve that and you can take creative approaches to street photography to outweigh the lack of light. you can also shoot in well lit interiors, you can use faster lenses, faster film, etc. you could even pivot to a different type of photography. of course, as technology advances, this would become less of a problem and light is important in photography, but that's solvable. people have made and continue to make great photography in the dark. the pictures that turn out to not be taken by louis are mostly taken at night or inside.

partly, it's down to louis. as dreamstat says, louis is impatient and doesn't take the proper care, e.g. by cleaning his lens, framing his shot with care, taking enough film, or sticking around to try out different compositions in different conditions.

but this is something that he could train himself to do. the real problem (as the dealer points out) is that the compositions do not say much. louis doesn't have "the eye." the photograph they discuss is not good because it was shot in daylight, it's because it tells a story, there is depth to the image, the subjects are framed in a way that it lets you interpret the meaning. it's human.

however, it also goes deeper than that. louis cannot connect with humans to properly picture them or tell their stories because he's a vampire, and therefore there is no relationship that goes beyond predator and prey anymore. he is separated from humanity at this point, even if he doesn't want to realize it. he cannot (and does not) want to stick around to get to know humans, make a connection with them. he finds the idea of doing that preposterous and impossible - they're sustenance and not interesting enough for him to actually invest time and interest in them. i think he likes to think that he is interested in humanity, and that's why he tries to capture them on film, but really, the gap between him and them is too big at this point.

and then there's this excellent point that @feedingicetothedog made in this post. vampires are mimics but they cannot create. louis can recognize the story when it's in front of him in form of a picture, but he cannot recreate it in his own photography because he's no longer human.

so i don't think that, no matter the technology, louis will ever be the type of photographer he wants to be, the one that captures people and human life, its essence and its complexities and its emotions. he's not capable of that anymore because he's a vampire.

[httpswritings]

if you were my little girl: the series

alexia putellas x child!reader; this story contains mentions of traumatic experiences as drug addiction, child abuse and similar topics. don't read it if you find those topics triggering.

A Barcelona Hope Blooms

Alexia never felt the desire to have kids.

She enjoyed being around them, but maternity wasn't for her.

You, however, were a whirlwind of seven years old, a hurricane of energy fueled by football. Barcelona Femení's rise, intertwined with the Spanish National Team's success, had ignited a passion that burned brighter than any birthday candle. And at the heart of this inferno stood Alexia Putellas, your idol.

Her laser focus on the pitch, the way she orchestrated every move with an almost telepathic precision, it all mesmerized you. You saw in her an ideal – relentless pursuit of excellence, unwavering dedication to the beautiful game.

The Eye of Barça: A Scout's Discovery in Barcelona

The rhythmic thud of the worn-out ball against your worn-out trainers was the soundtrack of your afternoons. Barcelona's bustling streets were your training ground, the chipped brick wall your loyal opponent. You weren't just playing keepy-uppy - you were weaving magic, dribbling past imaginary defenders, scoring wonder goals against a rusty shopping cart guarding a den of discarded tires. You were a queen on this dusty pitch, ruling with every flick of your foot.

Suddenly, a sharp tug sent you stumbling. You whirled around to see your mom, her face etched with worry as she glared at the man in the crisp suit towering over you.

“Who is this?“ she demanded, her voice a tight knot of concern.

The man smiled reassuringly, flashing a badge that glinted in the afternoon sun. “Don't worry,“ he said in smooth Spanish, “my name is Mikel, and I'm a scout for FC Barcelona.” He gestured toward you. “I couldn't help but notice your impressive skills.“

Your stomach lurched. Was he serious? Could this be real? Your mom's frown deepened, a million questions swirling in her eyes. Mikel sensed her apprehension and continued, “We have a fantastic girls' academy at La Masia, where young talents like your daughter can learn and grow. We'd love for her to try out.“

Barcelona's prestigious academy, La Masia, was a name whispered with reverence. It was a factory that churned out legendary players, a dream factory for any aspiring footballer. Your heart hammered in your chest, a frantic drumbeat against your ribs.

Your mom, however, looked unconvinced. “But she's just a kid,“ she protested, her voice softening. “Isn't she a bit young?“

Mikel chuckled, a warm sound that calmed her ruffled feathers. “We start training young, señora," he explained. "But don't worry, we have a great program for girls her age. It's a chance to see if she truly has the passion and develop her talent.“

You looked from your mom, her gaze filled with a mixture of fear and hope, to Mikel, his smile radiating both professionalism and genuine enthusiasm. This wasn't just a game anymore. This was a potential turning point, a fork in the dusty road that stretched before you.

Taking a deep breath, you met your mom's gaze, a silent plea unspoken but clear. A flicker of understanding passed between you, a silent pact forged in the gritty heart of Barcelona. With a hesitant nod, your mom turned to Mikel.

“Alright.”

Facing Alexia

The day of the camp arrived, a nervous flutter in your stomach battling with pure excitement. Stepping onto the field, you scanned the faces, searching for the one that graced your bedroom walls. And then, there she was, Alexia Putellas, no longer a poster image but a living, breathing embodiment of your footballing dreams.

The drills began, each touch, each pass judged by the watchful gaze of your hero. You focused on the ball, desperately trying to block out the pressure, the weight of Alexia's scrutiny. Yet, every now and then, you'd steal a glance.

A whistle blew, stopping the drill. Alexia walked towards you, her expression still unreadable. You braced yourself for criticism, for disappointment. Instead, she stopped in front of you, a hint of a smile playing on her lips.

“I'm amazed,“ she said, her voice surprisingly gentle. “You have some raw talent there.“

You stared at her, speechless, the weight of her words settling on you. It wasn't praise from just any player – it was from Alexia Putellas. A wave of pride washed over you, a feeling far more intoxicating than any goal you'd ever scored. This wasn't just about drills or impressing coaches. This was about proving yourself, about earning a nod of approval from your hero.

Bruised Bloom

At La Masia, you thrived. Here, amidst your teammates, you weren't just a kid caught in a crossfire. You were a footballer, a budding talent with a future that stretched beyond the grimy walls of your apartment.

Training was your sanctuary, a refuge from the chaos that permeated your home life. The hushed whispers, the acrid smells, the constant tension – it all dissolved the moment you stepped onto the field. Here, the only pressure was the weight of the ball on your foot, the thrill of the game.

Back home, your world was a minefield. Your mother, despite the worried facade she put on at the park when Mikel first scouted you, was a ghost, lost in a world of her own until she felt it was time to punish you. Your father, a storm that brewed unpredictably, filled the silence with violence and toxic fumes.

The thought of returning after practice sent a knot of dread twisting in your gut. Yet, you faced it every day, a warrior donning a hopeful smile like armor. You knew you couldn't speak, couldn't reveal the truth behind your closed-door reality. So, you played, harder than anyone else, pouring every ounce of your hurt, your anger, your fear, into your game, hoping time would pass fast and you would reach adulthood and the possibility of escaping home.

The Girl Who Played with Ghosts

Days morphed into weeks, and the vibrant memory of Alexia's praise began to fade, replaced by a dull ache of missing her. It wasn't just the validation of your skills; it was the warmth in her eyes, a flicker of something that mirrored your own yearning for connection.

You were a child overflowing with love, a dam overflowing with affection that had nowhere to spill. Your home life offered no solace, your parents existing in their own desolate realities. So, you latched onto any adult who offered a sliver of kindness, a fleeting pat on the head, or a word of encouragement.

Alexia, with her quiet intensity and unexpected gentleness, had become a beacon in your world.

You would often daydream about her being your big sister, your mother, anything that made you feel secure. You craved her approval, not just for your football, but for your very existence. The thought of her watching you play again, that focused gaze that made you both nervous and exhilarated, filled you with a strange longing.

Alexia's Eye

One afternoon, during a particularly grueling training session, your heart sank as you saw Alexia emerge from the building. Your body ached, your muscles screaming in protest, but a surge of energy coursed through you nonetheless. Every drill, every tackle, became a silent plea, a desperate attempt to catch her eye, to earn another nod of approval, another fleeting moment of connection in this vast, intimidating world.

As practice ended, your teammates dispersed, their chatter fading into the Barcelona dusk. You lingered, hoping, praying Alexia wouldn't vanish like smoke. And then, as you were about to turn away, defeated, you saw her. She stood by the entrance, a hint of amusement dancing in her eyes as she watched you catch your breath.

“I was supposed to watch you training but my day got a little derailed. Still, I hear whispers of a wonder-kid on the pitch today. Any truth to that rumor?"

Your heart soared. It wasn't the words themselves, but the way she said them, the unspoken recognition that ignited a spark of warmth within you. You weren't just another trainee anymore. You were someone she saw, someone with potential, someone who, maybe, just maybe, deserved a little bit of her time, a little bit of her attention.

"I... I just try my best," you stammered, suddenly self-conscious under her gaze.

"Well, that best seems pretty good," she countered, her smile widening. "Mind if I see a sample?"

Bittersweet Symphony

You nearly tripped over your own feet. Alexia, wanting to see you play?

Taking a deep breath, you straightened your shoulders, a newfound determination coursing through you. "I'd be honored," you declared, voice surprisingly steady.

As you ran through drills, fueled by a mix of excitement and nervousness, you felt a different kind of pressure. No longer was it just about proving yourself; it was about capturing that spark, that flicker of something special, in Alexia's eyes. You weren't just playing football anymore. You were playing for recognition, for connection, for a chance to forge a bond with the woman who had become your hero.

The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the La Masia training grounds in a warm glow. Alexia watched you with a smile, a hint of amusement and something deeper, a flicker of recognition, in her eyes.

"You're good, kid," she said, her voice surprisingly gentle. "Reminds me of myself at your age. Full of fire."

Your chest puffed out with pride. Alexia Putellas, your idol, was complimenting you! A warmth bloomed in your stomach, a feeling so foreign and comforting it made your eyes sting. It was like a hug, a feeling of love and acceptance you didn't think you'd ever experience.

Lost in this bubble of newfound joy, you didn't notice the other players filtering out, their chatter fading into the twilight. You were completely focused on Alexia, hanging on to every word, every encouraging nod.

Finally, a hand rested on your shoulder. You looked up, expecting Alexia's brilliant gaze, but instead, saw the concerned face of a coach. "It's getting late, kiddo," he said kindly. "Where are your parents? Are you leaving with them?"

You blinked, the realization hitting you like a cold wave. Your parents. You hadn't thought about them all afternoon, consumed by the warmth of Alexia's approval. Now, a knot formed in your gut. If they were late, that meant... you knew. The picture wasn't pretty, the familiar scene of their slumped figures reeking of alcohol playing in your mind.

Suddenly, the thought of a chaotic homecoming was a thousand times less appealing than the gentle reprimand of a coach and the lingering hope of Alexia's smile. You mumbled, "They'll... I guess they'll be here soon."

Alexia, who had been watching the exchange, now looked closely at you. The amusement in her eyes was replaced with a spark of concern, a question unspoken. You knew you couldn't stay here forever, but the thought of facing your reality was terrifying.

Behind The Charade

Then, there they were, your parents, their faces flushed, their laughter grating against the now-silent training grounds.

Your coach, Jordi, observed them from afar.

He knew something was off, but couldn't figure out what.

Jordi, your coach, watched them approach, a knot tightening in his stomach. Something was off, a forced joviality that didn't reach their eyes. They were experts at this charade, fooling people into believing their dysfunctional family was a picture of normalcy.

You, however, knew their routine all too well. A quick excuse, a feigned apology, and then the inevitable escape. You squeezed your eyes shut, a silent plea escaping your lips. When you opened them again, a desperate hope filled them.

"Alexia," you blurted, your voice barely audible, "would you… would you come watch me train next week?"

Alexia, who'd been observing the exchange with a growing sense of unease, met your hopeful gaze. Your fear, barely veiled, tugged at her heartstrings.

"Of course," she replied, her voice surprisingly firm. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

Your parents seemed oblivious, their attention focused on their next conquest, whatever that might be. You knew the drive home would be a terrifying journey, a cacophony of drunken arguments and reckless driving.

Eyes Shut, Hopes Open

As your father lurched the car forward, you squeezed your eyes shut, a single image flashing before them.

The image of Alexia in your imagination, her strong hand clasped in yours, a silent promise of protection in a world that seemed far from safe.

The roar of the engine filled the car, but it was Alexia's voice, a whisper in your mind, that brought a sliver of solace: "We'll get through this, together." The destination might be uncertain, but for the first time, you weren't alone.

[fullonfandomindulgence]

please clic for larger images, tumblr compression made these look all blurry. id below the cut

here i am still making mp100 comics in april of 2024. its just such comfort food. im highly normal about mob and tomes friendship

ID: three pages of black and white comics about Mob and Tome from the anime Mob Psycho 100.

panel 1: a leg and an arm extend from out of panel so that the hand on the arm can tie the shoe on the leg. lying on the ground is the other shoe, a cell phone, a keyring, and a polka dot carrying case. on the carrying case rests a sphere with a strange pattern on it. in the top right it says "January."

panel 2: a figure (its tome) pulls on a jacket. visible in front of her are a cabinet and a wall-mounted rack, all messy.

panel 3: with a door in the background, a closeup of tomes hand on her flipphone. the screen says "dialing."

panel 4: tome shrugs on her jacket and, holding her phone against her ear with her shoulder, smiles and says, "Oy, Mob! It's Saturday! Let's go telepath-hunting!"

panel 5: ritsu and mob sit on a blanket on the floor in front of a bookshelf. a little "pause" label extends from off-panel. both of them are holding controllers. ritsu leans against his hand, looking bored, as mob holds his cellphone to say "Hi Tome. Didn't we already find a telepath?" tome responds, "Oh, right."

panel 6: tome and mob dont really know what to say next. they both look cartoony and stupid. "..."

panel 7: tome, looking pained, curls a hand in the air in front of her and says, "Do you want to... walk around the city? Pointlessly?" mob says, "Sure, I guess that's what we normally do."

panel 8: tome looks mad. "No! We walk pointedly! In the direction of telepaths!" she points, pointedly. mobs eyebrows go a little down as he scratches at his face. "It's pretty funny that you were looking for so long when Takenaka was right next to you. For months. And then he left because you were too weird."

panel 9: tome, opening her front door, says, "Y'know what, Mob, maybe I'll invite him instead." Mob says "That's a good idea. Let's see if he can come with us."

panel 10: now exiting onto the walkway in front of her apartment, tome says, looking excited, "Actually I have been investigating something new. We should look for a haunted house!" mob thinks to himself, "Sounds like work..."

panel 11: mob looks skeptical and asks, "In the city?" tome responds, "Yep." behind mob, ritsu unpauses the game (ssb brawl) and starts thrashing mob (ritsu mains lucas, mob mains kirby)

panel 12: tome walks down the stairs of her apartment building to a concrete sidewalk with a row of trashcans nearby. she says, "My first guess is that new shaved ice place on 5th street." mob responds, "Oh." tome says "It's an old building! I think it's haunted!"

panel 13: mob, contented, says, "Okay. I'll meet you at the train station." pleased, tome responds, "Excellent!" ritsu looks back at mob with a mean smile on. the tv screen says "GAME!"

panel 14: mob yells, "Ritsu! What the heck!" tome, at a stoplight, replies, "Sure, he can come too." she presses the walk signal button. "BIP."

End ID.

making this comic i learned that you cant just put masking tape over your mistakes and re-ink on top of it bc the masking tape looks too dark when its scanned in. i guess ill just have to warm up more and be more deliberate when i ink like some kinda loser. or i could become truly insane and start gluing on little pieces of bristol

[milqueandsugar]

🌼☕` Wearing His Clothes`☕🌼

Gen / Fluff

Includes / Alastor , Lucifer

| ALASTOR |

If Alastor could spend every evening like this, he would. A warm hellish day, a pleasant breeze that made the usual sulphuric smell that lingered in the air tolerable, and most of all, you by his side. The scarlet parasol you carried over your shoulder sifted the dying rays of the sun into a glorious red. If Alastor could devour an image he'd have this walk on a plate.

"Have I ever mentioned how marvelous you are in red?" The static of his voice crackled to life, so did the blood in your cheeks. "Very, very often." You tease, his grin widens. "Oh so not nearly enough."

You were working up a come back when something heavy dropped onto your shoulders. It smelled of chicory and black coffee, it smelled of Alastor. You poked your head up out of a collar, his collar. You stared up at your lover who twirled the parasol you must have dropped in hid hand. Spinning the red refracted light around the both if you like a kelidoscope.

"You are darling in red, I'll have to ring up Rosie to get you one of your own."

"Matching outfits Alastor? Tattoos next?"

"I was thinking rings, but by the by."

Alastor is definitely a possessive character but I don't think that translates at all to you wearing his clothes

He's actually quite protective of them, he's as particular as he is possessive and it has to be some sort of gesture for him to lend it to you

He especially holds off on lending clothes to you if you make it know you like it, just for teasing purposes of course!

He only truly lends you his bow tie or jacket and only, of course, on his terms

He finds it endearing, how flattered or excited you are at something as simple as a coat, though he holds this little secret close to his chest

It's not as fun if you can tease him back!

Due to his more animalistic tendencies/physicality he is particularly sensitive to smell

If you REALLY want to rile him up use his cologne or soap, it might take a day or two but it's impossible not to notice his increase in physical affection

Once he registers that wearing his clothes is another, far more subtle way of having you smell like him he'll be far more generous with lending you garments.

| LUCIFER |

Every few months you cleaned out the closet, Lucifer liked to buy things, you liked to wear things, both of you were terrible for over filling your closet. He was out for a day out with Charlie, which made things easier. You loved him truly but he made tossing things out difficult, it was too pretty or to cute, to sexy for him to part with. He wasn't wrong, he had an excellent eye for picking clothes you liked, but at this rate you'd need to buy a new home to accommodate for the mass amounts of clothes!

It was when putting the keeps back when you noticed it, his hat. A hat you both loved and hated, the golden snake around its brim gleaned in the light. You snatched it from the shelf at the top of the closet. Your surprised he didn't bring it today, he wore it always, especially when with Charlie. You wondered if she liked it, or if she liked it when she was a kid and bright colours were like moths to light.

You step over to stand in front of the floor length mirror. It felt like a normal hat, of beautiful craftsmanship of course, but just a normal hat. You couldn't see why he was obsessed with the thing. You felt a little silly wearing it, you felt even sillier when a snort sounded from behind you.

"Oh so that's where my hat went"

He thinks it's cute!!

He's confident so he doesn't see any real need to mark or claim you, he knows he loved you, and he knows you love him just as much!

Absolutely pleased to lend you clothes!

If it becomes a habit of yours he even goes out of his way to pick up clothes he thinks both of you will like

Turns into a fun shopping activity!

Be fully prepared for him to start stealing your clothes too though this is a two way street

Maybe it's for the best too he's got no style let's be honest

Absolutely tortures you if he discovers you think it's hot, wears your clothes out, wears your clothes in private, when your on a date

Good luck, they're pretty much his now

No hiding if you dress more feminely either he's not afraid of rocking a mini skirt

The act itself doesn't do anything but seeing you so excited about it?? That does it for him

[leonw4nter]

The Dimming Star of a Formerly Worthy Show Dog

RE4R!Leon x F!Reader royal AU

To his mother and father, their princely son is simply checking on his subjects in person to assess the detrition of the plague in illness-struck towns and uphold the dignified and respectable image of the house of Condor for the hopeless masses to look up to. If one were to ask why the king and queen would not step a single foot out of their grand palace, they both feared that they would be tainted by the wrath of God that rained down like hellfire on the sinful masses– their fair skins swollen with black and oozing lumps, the healthy glow of their rosy cheeks taken away by the pallidness of contagion; they both very much preferred to be safe and secure in the comfort of their grandiose palace, wrapped in silks as they stayed away from the suffering below. Their son, the crown prince Leon, could not sit idly and stubbornly left the luxurious threshold of safety and clean air. He reasoned that he must see how the populace is doing in this time of pestilence, arguing that to see him would lift their weary spirits for it offered solace to know that the kingdom is still intact. He did not lie– that truly is his intention, ever the benevolent man he is, but he also wanted to look for you; the last he’s heard of you was from the palace’s dance instructor, somberly informing you that you moved to a town away to find a profitable alehouse to dance in.

“She does not feel the welcome of the palace,” he recalls the instructor saying as he looked out the window. “Most especially from the king and queen. Their gazes were always one of disrelishness when casted on her.”

“But I dearly welcome her,” Leon recalls responding as a deepening frown curled his lip downwards. “She has never done the king and queen wrong, hasn’t she? What is their motive for this animosity?”

The instructor beside him sighed, hands clasped behind him to rest at his lower back. “It is for the very reason that you dearly welcome her that they are contemptuous. She is a stellar dancer, yes– an excellent one at her craft, but she is not nobility. In this world, what are God-given gifts if one is not of the aristocracy?”

“All of them are radiant stars– her, her sisters. Their only fault is that the Lord planted these stars on the wrong sky, with the incorrect folk. Their light will not be marvelled in the manner that they deserve.” The instructor finishes.

Anger and earnest irritation brewed in the pits of his stomach, threatening to rise to his chest, and spill through the piercing and violent nature of emotionally-fueled language. His fists balled at his side, nostrils flared, as indignation dulled his will to adhere to princely decorum.

Not even the mask that covered the bottom half of his face could keep the stench of death at bay, the eastward bound wind worsening the putrid air. Death was everywhere– in the air, lined along the streets, at the mouth of rivers, in houses of stone and wood; corpses could be seen brought out of houses and tossed into carts before the carts would head to either the plague pits in churchyards or the mouth of the rivers. Distant cries and groans could be heard as well, dampening Leon’s spirits but he can’t stop now– he has to keep going, for you and for the people that need him. Mud squelched with each step he took, depressions in the ground trailing behind him as he walked further deeper into the settlement. Not even those with money and the firmest belief in the Lord were free, the body of a wealthy landlord being carried out for a burial as a priest mumbled prayers. He figured that it would be the least he could do for those that have already died to offer a prayer, a futile action yet one that brought comfort; he found it uncomfortable to think that those who were well-off in life were sent back home with services from the church, to lay in a nicely dug pit with a stone to remember them by yet the poor were tossed into a hole with no sign that these people ever lived, smiled, cried, and loved.

He passed by 3 dug holes and prayed 3 prayers each time: a prayer for firmer faith, guidance for the beloved departed, and protection for a friend before a long journey; if only he had brought his prayer beads, he would’ve prayed the rosary too. He walks along the grassy shore of the river, rocks crunching beneath his leather boots. River air was supposedly good for one’s health, said the physicians, for it brought clean air downstream with the flow of water; just like him, there were people flocking to walk alongside the moving water and breathe in some of the supposedly healthy air– children, girls with buckets to fetch some cleaning water, and mothers who were out for a stroll with their children. He recognizes a woman as he trails a distance behind her; her back is no longer upright and now has a slight curve, her hair tied into a short ponytail at the base of her skull. She appears to be carrying a weight concentrated to her right hip, which Leon realizes is a child. The way she walks is familiar yet also foreign to him, bringing flashes of the past to the forefront of his mind. He takes longer strides towards the woman, wanting to check up on her if she is really someone he once knew or if the weariness of the town is playing tricks on his mind already. Within a few steps he is an arm’s length away from her but she turns around before he can approach her and the sadness that seized him felt like a lightning bug getting trapped in a small, black box with one hole to let the light in. Seeing her felt like coming across a time-worn book, the lines on her eyes telling stories of endless struggles and dreams let loose; she looked far beyond 31, each graying strand of frizzy hair a marker of the trials that aged her beyond her time. The youthful sparkle of her eyes were now buried under the heavy cloak of sorrow, he noticed, as she peered at his face to try and remember who he was.

“Amanda,” Leon breathed in an airy voice. Her face lit up at seeing him, the unexpected presence of an old friend a balm to her marred soul.

“Leon,” she said back to him, stepping forward. “Oh, Leon. You have grown into a fine man. You tower over me now! Life has been kind to you, it seems.”

Leon grimaced slightly; if this is what has become of your sister, what fate has befallen you? “I have thought about you and your sisters, what you three have done upon leaving the palace.”

She sighed, a sad one, as she looked at the river where more bodies were being disposed of, opposite to your shoreline. “My hair has become streaked with gray because I spent most of my life worrying and fearing instead of dreaming. I am unhappy to tell you that the same has gone for my two other sisters. Years were endured rather than enjoyed,” she regretfully told him.

“Lucia,” Leon recalled. “I would also like to see her, before I see [name].”

Amanda fell silent, readjusting her position to carry her child a lot more properly. A hand coming up to cradle the base of his delicate skull.

“She had only 27 years when she passed this mortal coil,” she quietly said as she attempted to conceal the cracks of her voice. “Perhaps her body was far too weak to birth a child and thus failed her, physicians said that she had lost too much blood. This baby I carry now is hers, as I have decided to care for him in her stead. God grant her young soul eternal repose.”

Lucia had adored Leon when the sisters still danced regularly in the palace, always accompanying you in finding flowers to adorn Leons’ hair and armor with. She was the youngest among your trio and the fiercest; she did not stand for any prejudice and mistreatment to anyone she cared for deeply, disliked by some standoffish men of the court for her unlady-like decorum, an opinion Leon did not understand. He shed a single tear for her, reminiscing fond memories– memories of when he and her engaged in vulgar banter which resulted in Leon getting beatings, her keeping the palace dog company, and Leon timidly asking for advice in successfully courting you.

“What have you three lived through?” he faintly asks, eyes slightly glossy.

“The world demanded much too soon for three girls who only wanted to dance in gilded halls and feel the rhythm of strings and percussion lift us closer to heaven. Alas, we would have continued to dance until our legs could not and our strengths would fail us but the eyes of the king and queen are not purposed to see my sister with her love.”

Leon knew what she talked about, hanging down his head; he regrets that he did not fight tooth and nail to keep the sisters he has grown fond of growing up with, agonizing over the bitter ebb of love denied.

“Take me to [name]. I want to see her.”

“I am afraid I cannot do that.”

“Why not, Amanda?”

“I cannot let you do that, I cannot.”

“It would kill me swift if you continue to deny me to see [name] than any wrath of a pestilence. I beg and implore you, Amanda, I need to see [name].”

She looked at the blond in front of her, visibly growing more antsy and overwrought with unease. She sighed, growing weak at the possibility that this dignified prince would get on his knees and press his lips on the dirtied ground if it meant having to his love. “It would kill him swiftly if he heard the tenderness [name]’s voice possessed when she spoke of you rather than my denial of you seeing her”, she thought.

“[Name], she has it.” She said.

Leon asked what ‘it’ was, though that was done in an act of denial of the fact for he knew what ‘it’ is.

“She does not want anyone near her– not even I, she speaks to me through her boarded window. She fears that I and the young one will catch it too.”

“Where is she?” Leon asks, the sensation of the prick of tears in his eyes letting itself be known.

“She won’t want to see you.”

“I want to see her. Give me directions and I will walk to where she is, swim if need be.”

And so she told him where she lived, heart heavy as she watched the stubbornly persistent and brave prince make a mad dash to the house she lived in, praying to God that He listen to humankind just this once to provide Leon with the bravery in his heart that he so needed.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

The portion of town where you lived in was where all the sick were placed in order to properly separate those who were well, unwell, and dying. Doctors went in and out of houses with their beaked masks and black cloaks, carrying bags of medicinal implements and prayer booklets; they performed the rites for the religious dying because no priest was willing to, so they offered reprieve in a form different from the medicines they typically offered. Doors were marked and plastered with signs cautioning visitors to take measured decisions to avoid catching the plague themselves yet the fear of catching the plague did not faze him in the slightest bit, determined to soothe you with his presence and try to initiate conversation to put up the illusion that all is well and death does not surround them like a bird eager for a worm. Leon lifts his mask higher up his face, walking down the path that led to the house you were in. He did his best to not linger too much on the faint prayers, crying, and groaning he heard as he passed by other houses, growing increasingly overwhelmed with a potent melancholy. After some time, he gets to your house and knocks at the door then waits until you acknowledge the knocks.

“Amanda…?” he hears your weak voice call out, a rattling tone beneath your shrill voice. If he didn’t know that was you, he wouldn’t have recognized it.

“It’s Leon,” he says as he knocks again but this time a little louder. “Your Leon.”

“Leon…?” you ask from behind the door, trying to figure out if this is delirium that came with the plague or if it really is your Leon. “Amanda…?” you weakly call out once again.

“No, it’s not Amanda. It’s Leon,” he patiently repeats in a gentle tone as he picks up on the uncertainty in your infirm voice.

“You mustn’t… come in…,” you say as you try to sit up, which proves to be a Herculean task for you. “I am… terribly… ill.”

“No, I insist I see you [name]. My body is strong and my mind is sound, I do not fear neither illness nor death because my true fear resides in the possibility of never seeing you again. Please, open the door.”

You scoff to yourself before you cough once more, mustering what little strength your body has left to arise from your bed and get up to open the door. The door was only a few steps away from you yet the distance felt longer, hobbling along on unstable and weakened feet to reach the rusting metal handle and finally see your love after 6 long years. You open the door and see Leon, the lower half of his face concealed with a white cloth; his hair still remained the same flaxen color, albeit his strands have grown a little longer for they now veiled his rosy ears; his eyes have become more deep-set yet his blue irises still retained their piercing gaze, if not more intensely.

“Oh, [Name].”

He takes your hand, only holding on to the scarred tips of your finger as he tries to stave off the overwhelming desire to kiss you again like he did 6 years past. Your knee begins to fail you, brought down to the ground by weakness and Leon rushes to meet you at your level, worry furrowing his face.

“Let me carry you,” he says as he begins to scoop you into his chest and stands up to full height, walking to your bed. You nod as you shut your eyes, ashamed that he had to see you in this undesirable state with your hair strewn and sticking to your sweat-drenched forehead with lumps all around your neck, clavicle, and arms.

“Surely you must fear illness in one way or another,” you quietly whisper to him as he lays you down. “Does your stomach not churn when you see the work of contagion upon my body and grow afraid that this may happen to you?”

“There is a slight fear that threatens to paralyze me, one that lingers at the back of my mind and it stays there, for a more powerful fear of leaving you alone settles at the forefront.”

He gently lays you down, bringing your blanket up to your chest and taking a handkerchief from a pocket in his pants and using it to wipe the accumulating sweat on your body.

“Thank you,” your voice comes out in a shrill and raspy whisper and Leon simply nods, giving you a closed smile as he settles right at your bedside and tucks the handkerchief back to his pocket.

“How have you been, [Name]?” he asks, beginning the conversation.

“Swell,” you respond with a strained smile. “All soft and easy… for a… little… while.”

“I understand why you and your sisters chose to leave the palace, it can be… suffocating in there but I am quite baffled as to why you never wrote to me. Did you not love me enough or did I love you too much that it suffocated you in the same manner that life in the palace did?”

“I… love you… in ardent devotion… far greater than… the most devout… Catholic and their worship… of God, a force too… great that it could… divide. I very much… wanted to see you, talk to you… but my presence and involvement in your life… shall blight your image and your family’s regality.”

“[Name], forget about my family– they are far too occupied with image and I am far too occupied with you. I would abdicate for you, nevermind the ire of my mother or father towards me for all that matters is you.”

“You know… how they are–” you are interrupted by a cough, sitting up to be able to breathe a lot better with Leon gently patting your dampened back. “T-thank you, sweetheart. As I was… saying, they’ll think… that I have bewitched you… rendered you stupid…”

“You have bewitched me, that they have gotten right, but I care not for what they think– only both of us know what we have.”

You nod weakly and muster up the strength to smile up at him through glossy eyes as his hand strokes your hair, gently patting you without the fear of contracting the disease. A comfortable silence befalls the small house, with Leon occasionally humming some tunes and softly reassuring you: “all is well, all is well”.

“I will find medicine for you,” Leon breaks the silence. “My father has a cousin who has come down with the illness but has recovered, he took medicine from the far East. Just wait until I get back very soon, can you do that for me sweetheart?”

“Medicine?” you rasp almost noiselessly. “No, no… it is far too… precious to be… used… on me.”

“No, [Name]. Please, let me save you. You have saved me from an emptying sadness all those years past now it is my turn to save you so do let me.”

There is not much that you can do as your love is steadfast in finding this famed herbal medicine from the farthest east there is. You are grateful for his efforts and stay silent instead, listening to him ramble on and talk endlessly while he tenderly enveloped your pale hand in his as if you were both young adults once more.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

“How is the town doing, son?” His mother asks sternly as she drops a sugar cube into her steaming cup of tea.

“Morale is down, there is death everywhere.” He coldly responds, gaze distant. “This malady is far worse than we thought– plague physicians and prayers alone are not enough to stem the progression of this disease. We must step in, after all, we have resources–”

“Resources that we will use to treat your father’s cousin. It is at our family’s disposal so do not even think that we will squander away what meager medicines there are. Perhaps it is the fate of those sheep-biting scuts that God has stricken them down with His wrath and our family dare not to interrupt His will upon them.”

“Mother!” He exclaims, slamming a heavy hand down the table. Tea sloshes around in its cups and pots, small droplets of a burnt red shade staining the table cloth. “How dare you invoke the wrath of God as justification for your selfishness and moral cowardice! It is extremely abhorrent of you to withhold aid from those who need us most, your arrogance in deciding who is to live and who is to perish is nothing short of blasphemy!”

She sips her tea silently, lips softly touching the teacup as her eyes look on at the variety of roses in the garden. After taking a sip, she presses her lips together and sets the cup back down to its plate.

“Your anger is coming from somewhere,” she observes, returning the iciness back to her son. “Have you gone stupid from the dancer again, Leon?”

“That is none of your business.” He seethes, glaring.

“You dare call me ‘abhorrent’ for putting our family first when deep down, you want the medicine to give to her specifically.”

“I am the crown prince of the people– to her, most of all. I value their lives more than I do mine.”

“You truly have gone stupid because of some wench, Leon, this is unprincely of you to the superlative level. You are willing to lay down money on the possibility that she is to live? How foolish– did you not realize that the buboes of this plague leaves unsightly scars? You will grow to dislike her–”

“I have carried her ill-stricken form in my arms and fondly patted her hair with these hands. I cannot find it in me to dislike her nor do I wish to, it is simply impossible.”

“Leon–”

“I will go back to the town after 3 evenings with medicine. I will crawl back, if need be, and that is final.”

“Very well, then.”

Leon is surprised that his mother says nothing and returns to calmly sipping tea, yet he sees that her knuckles have gone pale so he stays alert, knowing that she could very well be scheming.

“I shall go talk with father now.”

He turns around and marches back to the inside of the palace, walking to the study of his father the king.

His father was just as apprehensive as his mother, incredibly unwilling to let Leon have even a single flake of the medicine. This resulted in screaming and threats of abdication and disowning, as an argument between two stubborn men of the house would usually do. Leon, though unwilling, resorted to a compromise: he would obtain the medicinal ingredients and produce them himself with the assistance of a scholar educated in the art of healing. This process would take long, for it required all ingredients to be finely ground into powder in order to be packed into a ball easy to swallow for the driest of throats. His parents grumbled and let him have his way but not before warning him that this would be an arduous undertaking, a Herculean effort all for a woman who is due her time soon. Right away, he sent his right hand men and advisers to seek out any available merchant who was willing to enter their kingdom. He struggled with the efforts, most of them bearing no fruit, but refused to appear bothered or intimidated by the pressure of his situation, not wanting to prove the king and queen right. Soon, he acquired several roots and herbs needed and got to work, seeking the guidance and knowledge of apothecaries and scholars knowledgeable on healing. The sun has awoken and slept but Leon did not sleep when the sun did, keeping the moon company as he toiled and studied, perfecting the required ratio to maximize the improvement of his condition. He also read up on balms and salves to soothe and reduce the scarring of the buboes, forgetting to partake in meals and hydrate in his haste.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

He sat on his horse, a female Palfrey with an ink-dark glossy coat, and headed for your town, urging her to go faster with the promise of apples and sugar cubes to spur her on. On his leather satchel was some fruit and in a smaller pouch, were the medicines he needed. Before packing it in his pouch, he has already had it reviewed by trusted advisers. He pushed down his confidence, not wanting to grow certain when he hasn’t distributed it yet. Upon spotting the first few houses in the distance, he softly encouraged his Palfrey to go on faster, just a little more.

“Come on, beauty, you can go faster– please,” he urged her.

Soon he arrives, dismounting from his steed, and spotting a few doctors exiting and entering houses. He calls one over and does not let them kneel down, informing them of what he brings.

“These, these medicines. I have crafted them a few days back, but they are still of quality, as my tutors have said. They are well-versed in healing so I trust their judgement,” he says. “I have obtained ingredients and herbs from trusted merchants in the far east, where the herbs are in abundance and the plague has not reached them yet.”

The plague doctor takes one of the tablets and lifts his avian mask, bringing the tablet near his nostril and takes several precautionary sniffs and observations. He nods, informing Leon that he will provide this to a patient of his and check back with him to note improvements in condition. Leon meets more of the cloaked doctors, advising them and repeating the same things he said. His confidence grows and he is certain, speeding past other houses to get to yours. He arrives there and knocks on your house, vigorous clacks against the wooden door.

“[Name]? It is your Leon, I am here.” He says a little louder, so he may be heard from the inside.

“Leon?” A weak female voice responds, but it is not yours. He stays silent, trying to give this voice a name.

“Who is inside?” He asks. “I have come to visit [Name], I bear medicine that may help her.”

He hears soft steps approaching the door, growing increasingly hyper in his eagerness to see you. The door finally opens but he is met with Amanda’s face instead.

“Where is my [Name]?” He asks, trying to see over her shoulder.

Amanda appears as if she is wearing a veil, a very thin one for if Leon dared to peer into her gaze, he might know what rocked his love’s sister. She steps aside and quietly allows Leon entry, the man pacing quickly to your bedside to see you. You look far worse than you did days ago when he just visited, the lumps on your neck scarily large that Leon felt weak. Your eyes were closed yet you were still breathing, albeit very shallowly and hoarsely, each intake of air marked with a low rattle in your chest. You lift a hand slightly from your abdomen where it rested and point a finger at Leon, to which he responds by identifying himself.

“Yes, it is your Leon. The Leon who you loved at 21,” he softly says. “Worry not, my dear, I have medicine in my pouch.”

Amanda steps beside him and places a hand on his shoulder and he feels her hand shake so he turns around and his gaze is met with glassy eyes.

“[Name] has just received her final rites, there is a man nearby with dead carts waiting for her,” she sadly says. “She is quite fortunate that she has received blessings, most of the sick here do not for the reverends are quite apprehensive.”

Her voice cracks and she stops speaking because she knows that her voice will crawl out in cracks and shakiness. Leon can only stay silent and appear strong yet his soul was crumbling away, turning into dust being blown away by a cold wind.

“She hasn’t much, has she?” he asks silently as he pats back the matted hair on your head, trying to offer you some semblance of comfort.

“Yes,” your sister responds. “She exhausted her throat screaming your name, she thought you’d been here with her as she was growing more delirious with fever. I could hear her sing the songs you taught her– ‘Dearest Sight of My Heart’ and ‘Greensleeves’.”

“So she has been seeing visions of me when in reality I am not near?” he asks.

“Yes, she has. And for that moment, she looked quite… jovial. Even the vision of you soothed her for a moment and I did not wish to whisk away what little comfort she had.”

You were asleep now, a finger inched near Leon’s. The rattling was still low in your chest yet your intakes of breath were now more shallow, more rapid, as if you were fighting some force and losing.

Leon curled his finger around yours yet you gently withdrew it. Instead, your arms were stretched out to the side like how it was when you danced. Your fingers were spaced out, gently fluttering as much as you could as your arms were swaying. He could see your feet twitch as well, along to some music only you could hear. This routine is familiar with Leon, the routine he loved to see you dance in gilded halls and grand banquets. He hummed the tune of the ballad, Amanda joining him, as he watched you slowly begin to grow more impassioned with whatever movements you could make. You opened your eyes and you were back in the grand ballroom in beautiful drapes and your hair in wavy tendrils above your head, pinned in place with a jewel-encrusted hairpin. Amanda looked youthful again, and so did Lucia– she was a maiden once again. You were spinning and jumping in the air, arms stretched above you as you felt the heavens on your fingertips. Your movements accompanied the lute and shawms, floating from one corner of the room to another. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Leon– soft, bright-eyed, and all smiles. He’s 21 again, just like you are, and he runs up to you to hug you.

“Leon!” you squeal when he hugs you even tighter, acting like a second corset, as he lifts you off the ground. “I am still rehearsing, surely it cannot be as great as you regard it to be!”

He places you back down on your feet and cups your cheeks, pressing his lips to yours to capture it in a silken kiss. You hear your sisters cheer and squeal in the back, prompting a smirk to widen on your lips.

“You discredit yourself for your artistic prowess, my [Name]. You are my god and I am sure I exist for the sole purpose of worshipping your grace.”

“Oh, stop it Leon. What do you want from me?” you tease as he peppers your cheeks in kisses.

“You,” he responds. “And that is all I ask. The banquet is yet to begin and our guests have not completed attendance yet so may I take you to the gardens?”

You look behind your sisters, who urge you on. You nod and Leon chuckles, bowing to your sisters before he takes you by the hand and leads you out to where it is bright.

Leon carries you in his arms with a tearful Amanda trailing closely behind him, her nephew asleep on her shoulder. You have fallen into the slumber with no end so he carries you to where you will be laid to rest properly instead of letting the cart take you away and toss you into a pit with many others. He sheds tears, albeit silently, as he lowers you. He and your sister fix your hair away from your face and pose your hands to appear as if you were praying, fingers entwined before dirt conceals you from the upper world to finally let your soul freely prance and leap around in fields of eternal repose where you greet your second-eldest sister and patiently wait for the loved ones who you’ve left behind.

NOTE - This fic has been marinating in my docs for like a month bc I've been fighting off writer's block and I'm also starting to grow busy bc I've already got like 5 projects assigned by the first week of the academic year so there's a chance that this fic is like... wonky which I understand tbh 😭 I have some WIPs waiting to be finished, some of them are requests so for the people who requested like months ago yk... dw I'm getting around to working on it 😭😭 Also yk that one bongo remix of that one Coldplay song? I don't know why but I find it so funny like it's so overstimulating, I just have to laugh 😭😭😭 ALSO I GOT IN IN MY SCHOOL'S BOOK CLUB SIUEHSH!!!@!$#% Anyway, thanks for reading my fics!! I appreciate it a lot!! I <3 YOUUU!!!!!!

The star dividers were made by @adornedwithlight , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

[connorsui]

▪︎▪︎ 𝓐 𝓓𝓪𝓲𝓵𝔂 𝓓𝓸𝓼𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝓨𝓸𝓾 ▪︎▪︎

Nanami Kento, known for his structured life and efficient routines, finds himself drawn to a quaint bakery he never used to frequent.

Nanami x baker! Reader

Contains: Love at First Sight, Fluff, Shy Nanami (nanami cute tho) , Awkward Confessions (he tryin let him be) Slow Burn, a taste of readers cake (not literally tho.....he wishes)

Warnings: nah suffer the taste of coffee down ur throat

A/N: I'll admit I wrote this at 5 a.m......it's more of an imagine than anything..

Nanami Kento wasn’t accustomed to deviating from his meticulously structured life. Every day unfolded with the same precision: he awoke at the same time, enjoyed the same brand of coffee, and fastened his tie with practiced efficiency. This routine wasn’t born out of necessity but from a preference for order and predictability.

However, his carefully crafted schedule was upended when he started walking down a narrow side street he’d never noticed before. The street housed a quaint bakery that had caught his attention a week ago.

The first time he entered the bakery, it was pouring rain. Not the gentle kind, but a relentless downpour that drenched him in seconds. Seeking refuge, he was welcomed by the warmth of the bakery and the enticing aroma of fresh bread. But it wasn’t just the atmosphere or the bread that compelled him to return. It was you.

You, with flour dusting your apron and a smile that could brighten the dreariest of days. You greeted him as if he were a regular, despite it being his first visit. You handed him a croissant and coffee with a care that made his heart skip a beat.

Becoming a regular wasn’t part of his plan, and neither was experiencing love at first sight.

The routine quickly established itself. After that, first encounter together. Some quick name exchanges and smiles of each morning at 7:30 a.m., Nanami would enter the bakery, greeted by the comforting aroma of baking bread. You’d be there, ready with a warm smile.

“mornin'!” you’d say cheerfully.

“Good morning,” he’d reply, receiving his usual order: one croissant and one black coffee, just as he liked it.

It was a simple exchange, but the warmth of your greeting became a highlight of his day. The predictability was comforting, and he convinced himself that was enough.

On the fourth day, Nanami noticed something different. A bit of flour had settled on your nose. It was a small detail, but it stood out to him. He found himself wondering how it had ended up there and if you were even aware of it.

He wanted to tell you, but the words caught in his throat. He was merely a customer, a stranger who visited daily. He wasn’t sure if he had the right to comment, so he accepted his croissant and coffee silently and left. The image of you with flour on your nose lingered in his mind all day.

By the seventh day, Nanami realized he wanted more than just the brief pleasantries exchanged each morning. He wanted to engage with you beyond the usual routine.

When he walked in that morning, you were behind the counter, arranging pastries with careful precision. The bell above the door chimed as he entered, and you looked up with your usual bright smile.

“Good morning!” you greeted him.

“Good morning,” he said, his voice tinged with nervousness. “Do you have any recommendations today?”

You looked pleasantly surprised. “Actually, yes! I’ve been working on a new recipe—a strawberry danish. It’s not on the menu yet, but if you’d like, I can give you a sneak preview.”

The prospect of trying something you’d personally crafted was too tempting to resist. “I’d love that,” he replied, trying to maintain composure.

You handed him the danish with a look of anticipation. “I hope you like it. It’s a bit different, but I think it turned out well.”

As he took the pastry, your fingers brushed against his briefly. The touch was fleeting but electrifying, lingering long after he left the bakery.

The danish was excellent, but what stood out was the way your eyes lit up when he complimented it the following day.

Nanami found himself concocting reasons to visit the bakery more frequently. He convinced himself it was for the variety of pastries, but he knew better. The real attraction was the moments shared with you—the easy conversations, the warmth of your presence.

One morning, as he prepared to leave, you called out to him.

He turned to see you hurrying over with a small brown paper bag. “I’ve got a special treat for you today.”

“Oh?” Nanami said, a touch of curiosity in his voice. He accepted the bag from you, his fingers brushing against yours briefly. “What’s the occasion?”

“Just a little something to brighten your day,” you said with a playful grin. “I hope you like it.”

“I’m sure I will,” he replied, trying to steady his suddenly quickened heartbeat. “Thanks for thinking of me.”

“Anytime!” you said with a smile that made his day feel a little bit better. “Enjoy!”

The pastry, as always, was perfect. But it wasn’t just the food that captivated him; it was the connection he found in those brief moments with you.

On the tenth day, Nanami arrived early and saw the bakery’s closed sign. He felt an unexpected pang of disappointment. The thought of missing even one day felt unsettling.

As he was about to leave, he heard your voice.

“Oh! You’re here early!”

You approached, apron tied around your waist, a smile on your lips.

“I didn’t want to miss you,” he said, the words escaping before he could stop them.

You laughed, a sound that made his heart flutter. “You’d have to get up pretty early to miss me! I’ll be open soon. You can come in and wait if you’d like.”

He followed you inside, feeling unusually at ease in the quiet bakery. You hummed softly as you prepared for the day, and he watched, captivated by the grace of your movements.

“So,” you broke the silence, “how do you like the new pastries? Be honest!”

“They’re wonderful,” he replied. “You’re very talented.”

Your cheeks flushed at the compliment. “Thank you. I’m glad you think so.”

A moment of silence followed, one filled with unspoken thoughts. Nanami wanted to say more but found himself content just being in your presence.

By the twelfth day, Nanami knew he couldn’t continue his routine without expressing his feelings. His visits had become more than a habit; they were a necessity. He needed you to know how much you meant to him.

That morning, you greeted him as usual, handing over a new pastry you’d been experimenting with. “I hope you’re ready for something a little different today.”

“Thank you,” he said, taking the pastry. Instead of leaving, he lingered by the counter, his heart racing. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

“Oh?” You looked up, curiosity evident in your eyes.

He took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his words. “Would you like to have coffee with me sometime? Outside of here.”

Your eyes widened, and for a moment, he feared he’d made a mistake. But then your expression softened, and you smiled. “I’d love to. How about tomorrow? After your usual visit?”

A wave of relief washed over him, and he couldn’t help but smile back. “Tomorrow sounds perfect.”

I consider this an imagine now

[nitrowyverine]

I thought playing Obscura would help me get rid of my brain worms. no, it just gave me new ones. For Obscura, specifically.

I'll be adjusting the format from my TOUCHSTARVED expanded thoughts post. Brain dump after the cut!

[Demo/CH 1 spoilers are included]

(Header Image from Itch.io page! All images in this post are either from there or the Rotten Raccoons tumblr page)

Design/gameplay thoughts:

In full honesty without fluff: this game fucks immensely.

The setting for Obscura might be my new all-time favorite, like, ever. Mystery underground scandalous marketplace??? Under a mountain???? it's a diverse and vast city that's still elegantly contained and claustrophobic, but in a spicy way. The worldbuilding and flavor is excellent. I really want to run a TTRPG in a similar setting now, since its an area with so many possibilities.

CH. 1/the "demo" has a LOT of meat on it. It's got different endings, variations, a whole soundtrack. Speaking of sountrack-

Obscura is also one of the few games I've put on the soundtrack to just to vibe to. The soundtrack is SO good, and sets such a strong mood/tone. I think it complements the game perfectly.

Allot of people have mentioned it, but I am also a fan of the Safeword pause menu. It's a nice and comforting touch, especially when the game can get so intense. It lets players take a breather if they need it, but also doesn't interrupt the intensity/mood of the game for someone who doesn't want a break from the narrative.

Now, onto character specific thoughts!

Cirrus:

IN MY HOUSE WE DON'T BELIEVE IN NOT STARTING OUT STRONG

Shout outs for having your asexual option in the dating sim be. The kinkiest guy there

Cirrus is a bit too intense for me, however, that is NOT a bad thing in the slightest. I think his route is well done for those who are up for his brand of intensity.

I might still play his route because. damn this boy's issues got me curious about his backstory. ($10 on mommy issues)

I had the hardest time getting to Cirrus's good end during my playthrough because having pretty much any self-preservation instinct around Cirrus gives you a bad/neutral ending. He's the only one I had to pull the guide out to get the best ending. (I think I'm just too sassy)

I get medusa vibes from Cirrus. The snake imagery is more likely tied to the lunar church, but his staunch reluctance to take his own mask off makes me wonder (this is mainly referenced in asks answered by the Rotten Raccoon studios). Refusal to let people see his eyes + snakes + power + slightly unnatural abilities to influence is, something.

I am shaking this man like a snowglobe WHAT IS YOUR DEAL I MUST KNOW MORE

(I am. metaphorically shaking him like a snowglobe. I would never shake this man im terrified)

CONCLUSION: Most likely to shame you for your anime choices. Least likely to be normal about it when you ask for help peeling an orange.

Keir:

HERE COMES BIG MAN

yeah he's tied for favorite right now. the slow burn in his plot is just too good? big man....freckles...secret soft side...im weak

he's so nice I keep forgetting. He kind of kidnaps you? not even kind of he just drags you off the street and goes "you live in my house now". Even Griff calls MC a stray early on. My man really said "Here's a convenient lost human I'm dragging them home now"

oh my GOD they were ROOMATES

I definitely was too nice to him in my first playthrough until I realized he does need (and want) to be sassed to death.

this man is like 6'6 and the canon-ish Vesper height from the CG is 5'4. THE HEIGHT DIFFERENCE. This kills the man (me)

The sprite of Keir's ears blushing SENDS ME INTO A FRENZY

I quite liked the gameplay style of Keir's route. I was so focused and invested as soon as I realized I needed to remember specific directions to save the heist group during timed decisions

Something I haven't seen discussed yet: I'm mega curious about the dagger Keir has on his outfit. It's specifically pointed out in text that it's high-quality, and I vaguely remember an ask that Rotten Raccoons answered that said it's a status symbol. (The dagger also just looks SO cool. and....it looks like Francesco's...?)

(My bet is that he either 1. stole it. or 2. got it from Oleander during their tryst (WHICH WE ALSO NEED TO TALK ABOUT-))

CONCLUSION: Most likely to be gifted a "WORLD'S BEST DAD" mug from his similarly-aged peers. Least likely to live down that one time he ate soap because he thought it was edible.

Francesco:

someone keep the "silver dust" away from this lad im scared

Originally, I was least looking forward to playing Francesco's route since I just wasn't interested in his initial concept. After playing his route though? It was excellently done, and I genuinely had fun. It was refreshing to have a character more naive than Vesper, so more cultural aspects were explained and we got a good alternate perspective on the marketplace. Also, it got REAL spicy in new and exciting ways the other chapters didn't. I'm really looking forward to the next chapters with his route!

I totally love the contrasts in his design and his character. He's got both bright red and blue highlights in his design, his outfit is very pointy and angular while his hair/smile is soft and flow-y.

And in his personality, he's both sweet and open, but extremely cagey about some information, and quite pragmatic when he wants to be. I think he's way smarter than he lets on.

that doesn't mean I don't want to bridal carry him and tuck him into bed at night after a all-nighter party

I do think Fran's slightly looser demeanor could lead to him being even more brutal than the other LI's. Remember that one anime clip (Found it, it's this one from Danshi Koukousei) where a group of friends wants to fight for fun, but one of the friends asks why they need rules in a fight? And said friend is shown like secretly holding a rock and was ready to use it? that's Fran. He would not have chill and does not heed the rules.

"Protect the boy", but mostly to prevent him from tasting blood. Because if that happens we're all fucked

CONCLUSION: Most likely to eat that M&M off the ground because you dared him. Least likely to beat the puppy allegations.

Oleander:

Oleander is tied for favorite with Keir. Oleander is just *chefs kiss* LOOK AT HIM. inscrutable......

Somewhere in an ask answered by Rotten Raccoons studio, they mentioned that for Oleander's route, they were going for a "Sexy boss situation that doesn't feel like a work safety violation". They hit that right on the nose; there's intrigue and a power imbalance, but in a non-restrictive or terrifying way.

I love being involved in the business part of his route. I keep making decisions like "Hmm yes my primary goal is to romance Oleander. But what would be the smartest business move here? How do we advance our agenda?"

Also, I do love playing a sexy evil secretary in a vn. love having a job and being evil at it AND being paid money. 10/10

That dance scene is everything I could have ever wanted no notes

I am fascinated to find out more about what he's been up to since his last trek into the marketplace. Seems like people are trying to kill him all the time anyway, so what would be enough to cause him to leave?

he's like an angler fish, but the lure is his booba

I relate to Oleander in that. I have too many online usernames because I can't stick with one. People get my 800 online names mixed up often. He has the same problem, we're basically twinsies

This man is pretending to be a himbo like his life depends on it (It probably does). He's too smart though, I know for a fact he has at least three different schemes going at any given time.

CONCLUSION: Most likely to be able to help you properly lace a corset (this man knows the boot-to-the-back necessity of the process). Least likely to be allowed to be banker during monopoly night.

Vesper:

black mask enjoyer 4 life

(all three are good I just wanted to say which one I picked. And to add my conclusion section)

CONCLUSION: Most likely to get their shit rocked by a falling piano. Least likely to survive an argument about pineapple on pizza.

Concerns:

With how separate the four routes are, the game could potentially feel like four separate visual novels all in one universe. Maybe I haven't played enough VN's, but there is a feeling of separation between the routes.

In the very beginning of the game, when you're picking your route, I wish there was a bit more heads up/information between who you're picking. For example, I had a rough idea that going into the church is where you'd find Cirrus, but only from information outside the game. I didn't know sticking around for the brawl would push you into Kier's route. It's overall pretty vague to which route you're going based on only in-game information.

Misc thoughts:

Vesper: "How are you going to keep me?? ;)" Keir and Oleander: "crimes" Vesper: "Wh-" Keir and Oleander: "you're an accomplice now congrats we're in this together. wanna get drinks"

catch my socially anxious ass wanting to be under the mountain and wear masks so I don't have to make eye contact with strangers all the time. at least its a fun thought to have when I mask for covid

OKAY FRANCESCO AND KEIR'S DAGGER MATCH? AND ARE RED/BLUE LIKE FRANCESCOS OUTFIT? DOES IT MEAN ANYTHING??? probably not but I do like the pretty knives....

For real, I got the brain worms for this game, I'm on the edge of making a big ol playlist. the headcannons? They go on my friend. they go on. I'm laying awake at night thinking about what each character would order at a coffee shop

by the time I publish this post. I did start working on the playlist

yes, I've also designed my own vesper, its such a prime opportunity for character design.

Obscura also may or may not have inspired me to get involved with an otome jam game team, more on that in the future possibly.....

OVERALL: I got the first chapter/demo of Obscura for free from Itchio/steam. High marks for writing, sound, art, game design, all of it! I am on the edge of my seat waiting for CH2.

TL;DR: If you haven't played it, and love spicy and dark stories, go play it! Part one is free! and fantastic.

Itch.io

Steam

[streetsofdublin]

NEW LANDSCAPING UNDERWAY AT RYDERS ROW IN DUBLIN

New landscaping and tree planting at the north end of Capel Street/Ryder’s Row by @DCCParksBiodiv, bounded by new Leinster granite kerbs.

APEX OF THE TRIANGLE BOUNDED BY CAPEL STREET – RYDERS ROW – PARNELL STREET New landscaping and tree planting at the north end of Capel Street/Ryder’s Row by @DCCParksBiodiv, bounded by new Leinster granite kerbs. It marks the beginning of the Capel Street interim public realm enhancement, to be delivered along the entire street by the start of summer. In 2022 the City Council had announced that…

[cool-fancier]

Love Among the Lights

Lisa x Fem Reader

Synopsis: As CEO of Louis Vuitton, you navigate fame and love in secrecy. When your girlfriend, Lisa, stuns at LVFW24, whispers of romance ignite.

Word Count:3.6k

Your journey to becoming the CEO of Louis Vuitton was not one of luck or happenstance but rather a culmination of years of hard work, dedication, and a relentless pursuit of excellence. It all began in the bustling streets of Paris, where you were born into a family with a deep appreciation for art, culture, and fashion.

From a young age, you were fascinated by the world of design, spending hours sketching and creating your own clothing designs. It was a passion that only grew stronger with time, fueled by your insatiable curiosity and desire to leave your mark on the world.

After completing your education in business and fashion design, you set out to make your mark on the fashion industry, determined to carve out a name for yourself in a world dominated by giants. You started small, working for various fashion houses and design firms, honing your skills and learning the ins and outs of the industry.

But it wasn't long before you realized that you were destined for something greater – something that would allow you to unleash your creativity and reshape the landscape of fashion as we know it. And so, armed with nothing but a dream and a burning passion, you set out to create your own fashion empire.

— — — — — — —

Louis Vuitton was more than just a fashion brand – it was a symbol of luxury, sophistication, and timeless elegance. From its iconic monogrammed bags to its meticulously crafted ready-to-wear collections, Louis Vuitton had become synonymous with quality and craftsmanship, attracting a loyal following of fashion enthusiasts and celebrities alike.

But as you set out to take the reins of the company, you knew that you wanted to push the boundaries of traditional fashion and usher in a new era of innovation and creativity. You envisioned Louis Vuitton as more than just a luxury brand – it was to be a lifestyle, a statement of individuality and self-expression.

With this vision in mind, you set about reimagining the brand's image, infusing it with a fresh, modern aesthetic that resonated with a new generation of fashion-forward consumers. You collaborated with renowned designers and artists, pushing the boundaries of design and blurring the lines between fashion and art.

From bold, avant-garde runway shows to groundbreaking marketing campaigns, you spared no expense in bringing your vision to life, determined to cement Louis Vuitton's status as a global fashion powerhouse.

— — — — — — —

It was at one of your annual fashion shows in Paris that you first crossed paths with Jennie, the charismatic member of Blackpink whose star was on the rise. She had been invited to attend the event as a guest, her presence a testament to her growing influence in the world of fashion and entertainment.

From the moment you met, there was an instant connection between you – a shared passion for art, culture, and of course, fashion. You spent hours discussing your respective careers and aspirations, your conversation flowing effortlessly as you exchanged ideas and insights.

As the night wore on, you found yourself drawn to Jennie in a way you had never experienced before, her intelligence and charm captivating you in ways you couldn't explain. It was as though you were kindred spirits, destined to cross paths and leave an indelible mark on each other's lives.

In the days and weeks that followed, your friendship blossomed into something more, your bond deepening with each passing day. You spent countless hours together, exploring the streets of Paris and immersing yourselves in the vibrant culture of the city.

And through it all, Jennie remained a constant source of inspiration and support, encouraging you to pursue your dreams and never settle for anything less than greatness. She believed in you when no one else did, and for that, you would be forever grateful.

— — — — — — —

It was at one of Jennie's parties that you first laid eyes on Lisa, the radiant member of Blackpink whose beauty and talent had captured the hearts of millions around the world. She had recently debuted as a solo artist, her star rising higher with each passing day.

As she mingled with the other guests, her presence commanded attention, her confidence and charisma drawing people to her like moths to a flame. You found yourself captivated by her, unable to tear your eyes away as she moved gracefully through the crowd.

You waited for the perfect moment to approach her, watching as she engaged in conversation with other partygoers. When the opportunity presented itself, you made your move, stepping in to introduce yourself.

"Hi, I'm Y/N," you said, offering her a warm smile as you extended your hand.

Lisa's eyes lit up in recognition, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she shook your hand. "I know who you are," she replied, her voice soft and melodic. "You're the CEO of Louis Vuitton, right?"

You nodded, feeling a surge of pride at her recognition. "That's right," you said. "And you're Lisa from Blackpink. It's a pleasure to meet you."

The conversation flowed effortlessly between you, your words dancing like poetry as you talked about everything from music to fashion to your shared love of travel. It was as though you had known each other for years, your connection instant and undeniable.

But amidst the laughter and camaraderie, there was an undercurrent of tension between you – a silent longing that neither of you dared to acknowledge. You were both bound by the constraints of your respective careers, your relationship relegated to the shadows for fear of the consequences.

Yet, despite the risks, you couldn't deny the undeniable pull you felt towards each other – a magnetic force that drew you together with a power that defied logic and reason. And as you danced around the edges of your feelings, tiptoeing around the truth, you knew that you were falling for Lisa in a way you had never thought possible.

As the night wore on, you found yourself drawn to Lisa like a moth to a flame, unable to tear yourself away from her magnetic presence. And as you stood together on a balcony overlooking the city lights, your conversation taking on a more intimate tone, you knew that you had found someone special in Lisa – someone worth taking a chance on.

As you stood together on the balcony, the city lights twinkling below, the conversation between you and Lisa took on a more intimate tone. You found yourself opening up to her in a way you hadn't with anyone else, sharing stories and laughter as if you had known each other for years.

"So, tell me more about Louis Vuitton," Lisa said, her eyes sparkling with genuine interest. "What inspired you to become the CEO?"

You smiled, touched by her curiosity. "Well, it's always been a dream of mine to work in the fashion industry," you explained. "I've always been fascinated by the intersection of art and commerce, and Louis Vuitton represents the pinnacle of luxury and innovation."

Lisa nodded, hanging on to your every word. "That's so cool," she said. "I've always admired your work with the brand. You've really taken it to new heights."

Before you could respond, the door to the balcony swung open, and Jisoo, another member of Blackpink, stepped outside, her eyes widening in surprise as she caught sight of you and Lisa together.

"Lisa!" she exclaimed, her voice carrying across the balcony. "What are you doing out here?"

You and Lisa exchanged a knowing glance before turning to face Jisoo, trying to suppress your laughter at her over-the-top reaction.

"We're just having a little chat," Lisa replied, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

Jisoo's eyes widened even further, and she gasped dramatically, clutching her chest as if she had just witnessed a scandalous affair.

"Oh my god, Lisa, are you flirting with Y/N?" she exclaimed, her voice rising in pitch as she turned to face the other members of Blackpink, who had gathered at the door to see what all the commotion was about.

"Guys, you won't believe this!" she called out, her voice tinged with mock horror. "Lisa's out here seducing the CEO of Louis Vuitton!"

The other members of Blackpink crowded onto the balcony, their eyes widening in surprise as they took in the scene before them. Rosé giggled uncontrollably, while Jennie shook her head in disbelief.

"Lisa, you little minx," Jennie teased, nudging her playfully. "I always knew you had a thing for powerful women."

Lisa rolled her eyes, but there was a playful glint in her eye as she turned to face you, her lips curling into a sly grin.

"Sorry about that," she said, her voice laced with amusement. "My friends can be a bit... dramatic."

You laughed, feeling a sense of warmth spread through you at the sight of Lisa's playful demeanor. Despite the teasing from her friends, you couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for her, grateful for the chance to spend this time together away from the prying eyes of the public.

As the night wore on, you and Lisa continued to talk and laugh together, the tension between you dissipating with each passing moment. And as you stood together on the balcony, surrounded by the laughter and camaraderie of your friends, you knew that this was just the beginning of something special between you and Lisa.

— — — — — — —

Despite your hectic schedules, you and Lisa managed to carve out precious moments to spend together. Each date was a chance to escape the pressures of work and fame, to simply enjoy each other's company without the prying eyes of the public.

You took Lisa to some of the most exclusive restaurants in the city, savoring each bite of gourmet cuisine as you talked and laughed late into the night. You explored hidden gems tucked away in the corners of the city, discovering new cafes, bookstores, and parks where you could steal quiet moments away from the chaos of the world.

On one memorable occasion, you surprised Lisa with tickets to a private concert by one of her favorite artists. The look of delight on her face as she realized where you were taking her made all the planning and secrecy worth it. As you stood together in the crowd, swaying to the music under the twinkling lights, you felt a sense of contentment wash over you, grateful for the chance to share this experience with someone as special as Lisa.

Despite the challenges of dating in the public eye, you and Lisa found solace in each other's company, stealing moments of intimacy whenever you could. Whether it was a stolen kiss in the backseat of a car or a quiet walk through the city streets hand in hand, you cherished each moment you spent together, knowing that your love was worth the risk.

As the months passed, your bond with Lisa grew stronger with each passing day. You found yourself falling deeper and deeper in love with her, unable to imagine your life without her by your side. And as you looked into her eyes, you knew that you wanted to make things official – to ask her to be your girlfriend in the most romantic and unique way possible.

One evening, as you and Lisa sat together on the balcony of your penthouse apartment, the city lights twinkling below, you felt a surge of nervous energy coursing through you. You knew that this was the moment you had been waiting for – the moment when you would ask Lisa to be yours in every sense of the word.

Taking a deep breath, you turned to face Lisa, your heart pounding in your chest as you prepared to pour your heart out to her.

"Lisa," you began, your voice barely above a whisper. "I know we've been seeing each other for a while now, and I've loved every moment we've spent together."

Lisa's eyes widened in surprise, a smile spreading across her face as she realized what you were about to say.

"You mean...?" she trailed off, her voice barely a whisper as she waited for you to continue.

You nodded, reaching out to take her hand in yours. "I want to make things official," you said, your voice steady despite the nerves that churned in your stomach. "Lisa, will you be my girlfriend?"

Tears welled up in Lisa's eyes as she threw her arms around you, burying her face in your chest as she nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!" she exclaimed, her voice muffled against your shirt as she held you tightly.

You laughed, feeling a sense of relief wash over you at her enthusiastic response. Pulling back slightly, you cupped her face in your hands, gazing into her eyes with all the love and adoration you felt for her.

"I love you, Lisa," you whispered, your voice filled with emotion.

"I love you too, Y/N," Lisa replied, her eyes shining with happiness as she leaned in to kiss you tenderly.

As you melted into each other's embrace, surrounded by the soft glow of the city lights, you knew that this was just the beginning of your love story – a story that would continue to unfold in the days, weeks, and years to come, filled with laughter, adventure, and endless moments of love and joy.

— — — — — — —

As the CEO of Louis Vuitton, you were constantly on the lookout for opportunities to expand the brand's reach and influence. You had seen the power of celebrity endorsements firsthand, and you knew that having someone as influential as Lisa as an ambassador could take Louis Vuitton to new heights.

One evening, as you and Lisa cuddled together on the couch, the soft glow of the television casting a warm light over the room, you broached the subject.

"Hey, Lisa," you began, your voice casual as you traced circles on her arm with your fingertips.

"Yeah?" she replied, her attention still focused on the screen as she snuggled closer to you.

"I was thinking," you continued, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "What would you say if I asked you to be an ambassador for Louis Vuitton?"

Lisa's head snapped up, her eyes widening in surprise as she turned to look at you.

"Wait, really?" she exclaimed, her voice filled with excitement. "You want me to be an ambassador for Louis Vuitton?"

You nodded, feeling a surge of pride at her enthusiastic response. "Yeah, really," you said, your voice softening as you reached out to take her hand in yours. "I know how passionate you are about fashion, and I think you would be the perfect fit for the brand."

Lisa's face lit up with a smile as she squeezed your hand tightly. "Y/N, that's incredible," she said, her voice filled with emotion. "I would love to be an ambassador for Louis Vuitton."

You grinned, feeling a sense of satisfaction wash over you at her excitement. "Great," you said, unable to hide the smile that spread across your face. "Welcome to the Louis Vuitton family, Lisa."

As the two of you cuddled together on the couch, basking in the warmth of each other's embrace, you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and accomplishment. Not only had you secured a valuable partnership for Louis Vuitton, but you had also brought your girlfriend into the fold, forging a connection that would only serve to strengthen your bond both personally and professionally.

— — — — — —

The Louis Vuitton Fashion Week (LVFW24) in Paris was one of the most anticipated events in the fashion world, drawing celebrities, influencers, and fashionistas from around the globe. As the CEO of Louis Vuitton, you were accustomed to the glitz and glamour of such events, but this year held a special significance for you.

Not only were you showcasing your latest collection on the runway, but you had also orchestrated a surprise for your girlfriend, Lisa, the phenomenal member of Blackpink. You had been secretly dating for about a year now, and you wanted to show her just how much she meant to you by incorporating her into the event in a special way.

As you made your way to the venue, your heart raced with excitement and anticipation. You had been working tirelessly on the new collection, pouring your heart and soul into every design, and you couldn't wait to see the reaction from the audience.

The venue was abuzz with activity as guests mingled and posed for photos on the red carpet. Cameras flashed and voices buzzed with excitement as the anticipation reached a fever pitch.

You scanned the crowd, searching for a familiar face, but there was no sign of Lisa. You knew she was attending the event, but you had purposely kept her outfit a secret as part of the surprise.

Taking a deep breath to calm your nerves, you made your way backstage to check on the models and make sure everything was running smoothly. The energy backstage was electric, with hairstylists and makeup artists putting the finishing touches on the models' looks and designers making last-minute adjustments to the garments.

As the showtime approached, you took your place backstage, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves coursing through your veins. The music started, and the first model stepped onto the runway, setting the stage for what promised to be a breathtaking show.

One by one, the models strutted down the runway, showcasing your latest designs with confidence and grace. The audience was captivated, their eyes glued to the runway as they took in the stunning creations.

But as the show reached its climax, there was one final surprise in store. Just as the last model exited the runway, the lights dimmed, and the music changed to a familiar beat.

Suddenly, the giant screens flanking the stage lit up with images of Lisa, her face glowing with a radiant smile as she walked confidently towards the stage. The audience erupted into cheers and applause as they recognized the K-pop star, their excitement palpable in the air.

You felt a surge of pride and excitement as Lisa took her place on the runway, her presence commanding attention as she struck a pose at the end of the catwalk. She was wearing one of your designs – a stunning gown that hugged her curves in all the right places, accentuating her natural beauty and elegance.

The screams were deafening as the audience showered Lisa with adoration and praise, their excitement reaching a fever pitch as they snapped photos and videos of the iconic moment.

But amidst the chaos and excitement, there was an undeniable tension between you and Lisa – a silent acknowledgment of the intimacy and connection you shared. As you locked eyes with her from across the room, you felt a rush of emotions flood over you – love, pride, and an overwhelming sense of gratitude for having her in your life.

As the show came to an end, you and Lisa were ushered onto the stage for photos, the flashes of cameras lighting up the room as you posed together for the paparazzi. The chemistry between you was palpable, and fans couldn't help but notice the way you looked at each other – with love and admiration shining in your eyes.

As the night wore on, the photos and videos from the event began to circulate online, igniting a frenzy of speculation and excitement among fans. They couldn't help but notice the intimate moments between you and Lisa, and soon, social media was abuzz with rumors of your secret relationship.

But amidst the chaos and speculation, there was one thing that remained constant – the undeniable love and connection you shared with Lisa. And as you held her hand tightly in yours, watching the city lights twinkle in the distance, you knew that your love for each other was stronger than ever before.

🌟 Y/N stole the show at LVFW24 with their breathtaking collection! From runway to CEO, they're a force to be reckoned with. 🌟 #YNSlayed #LVFW24

🌟 Did anyone else notice the sparks flying between Y/N and Lisa at LVFW24? 🔥 The way they look at each other is giving us all the feels! 🥺💕 #YLisa #LVFW24

@YNCeles: Y/N absolutely killed it at LVFW24! Her designs were pure perfection, and I couldn't be prouder to be a fan! 🌟 #YNSlayed #LVFW24

@YNismine: Can we take a moment to appreciate Y/N's dedication and passion for fashion? She is truly a visionary in the industry! 🙌 #FashionIcon #LVFW24

@YNCpla: Y/N's collection at LVFW24 has left me speechless! Her talent knows no bounds, and I'm in awe of everything she creates! 🌟 #YNSlayed #LVFW24

@LISALegendary: Lisa looked like an absolute goddess at LVFW24! Her runway walk was flawless, and she owned every moment on that stage! 🌟 #LisaQueen #LVFW24

@LISAicon: Lisa's presence at LVFW24 was everything! She exudes confidence and charisma like no other, and I'm so proud to be her fan! 💖 #LisaManoban #LVFW24

@coollisa: Lisa's performance at LVFW24 was nothing short of iconic! She's a true superstar, and I'm so grateful to be able to support her! 🌟 #LisaLegend #LVFW24

@YLisaUniverse: The tension between Y/N and Lisa at LVFW24 is undeniable! 🔥 They're the ultimate power couple, and I'm here for it! 🌟 #YLisa #LVFW24

@ynandlisa: Can we talk about the way Y/N and Lisa looked at each other at LVFW24? It's like they have their own little universe! 🌌💖 #YLisa #LVFW24

@lisaisY/n’s: Y/N and Lisa are giving us all the feels at LVFW24! Their love and chemistry are off the charts, and I'm living for it! 🥺💕 #YLisa #LVFW24

Together, you and Lisa had weathered the storms of fame and fortune, emerging stronger and more united than ever before. And as you looked towards the future, you knew that there was nothing that could stand in the way of your love – not even the bright lights of Paris or the prying eyes of the world.

[jaegeraether]

Sunsets and footballers (Part 31)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (29)

Masterlist (other parts here)

YFN eventually managed to find a car park and carefully park Lucy’s car. Still no phone call. It was now 6pm.

She turned the car off and sighed her stress, placing her head on the steering wheel. She didn't want to text, and now she didn’t want to call. Was Lucy ashamed that she’d been caught on camera with Ona? Was their relationship more serious than she realised and Lucy just didn’t know how to tell her? Was she just a convenient fling in England for her? Perhaps an easy break without emotional complications was for the best.

“You’re okay,” she whispered to herself. She heard her tears hit the centre of the steering wheel. “You’re going to be okay. This is why we don’t let people in, Blue.” She sniffled. “It hurts right now but we’re going to be fine. We always are.”

Talking to herself out loud always helped her when she was a kid, trying to understand the strong, scared emotions her father stirred in her, and she’d carried that on into adulthood.

She sniffed again and lifted her head, wiping her tears and attempting a smile for her colleagues. She knew that if she stayed in that car, she’d just fall further into that emotional wreck, and so she grabbed her equipment and entered the stadium.

The game hadn’t even begun yet, it was scheduled for 6:45pm, so she had time to get through security with her pass and head to the bathroom where she tidied herself up and made the decision to take Lucy’s hoodie off, and switch to a Lumos hoodie. It just felt like the right thing to do. She folded it carefully and placed it in her workbag, with the intention of leaving it at Lucy’s apartment that night. She figured it would make sense to leave the keys there as well, though her main concern was the car. She didn’t have one.

YFN: Hi Joe, any chance I can take you up on that previous offer for a work vehicle?

Joe was always working. She replied almost instantly.

Joe: Absolutely! I’ll get onto that first thing in the morning.

Joe: Also, I’ve had a look through the footage from tonight. It’s excellent.

YFN: Thank you, I appreciate it.

YFN: You picked some incredibly talented people for the job.. I can already see a need for a lot more people.

Joe: Just let me know what you need. I have a lot of faith in this.

YFN knew Joe was someone who poured her heart and soul into whatever she did. She was intelligent and a smart businesswoman, though the words from the twat, Mark, at the Charity Event had stuck with her. She knew she had to ask Joe what he’d meant when he’d mentioned “the controversy she brings”, though she knew it was best for another night, and perhaps not over message.

YFN: I do too. I was also roped into doing our first interview with a few of the Arsenal and City players. I’ll send you the rough footage now.

Joe: Looking forward to it!

YFN sent the footage and entered pitch side where the teams were warming up and was happy that the weather wasn’t nearly as cold as it had been the previous matches. Emily spotted her first and came over to chat about the best photo spots, while Bridget was scouting around the entire edging of the pitch the find the best video positions. She eventually looped back around to them to join in on the work discussions.

It was during their discussions that YFN noticed a photographer taking footage of them all together. She’d never been to Broadfield Street Stadium before and so she assumed it was perhaps someone from media for one of the teams, however he was incredibly persistent and focussed on the Lumos trio. YFN didn’t want to worry the girls, and so she finished up their discussions and let them get back to getting footage of the players during their warms ups.

As warm-ups finished, YFN took a few final photos of the teams and looked down at the images, proud of the action shots. It was then that she noticed Mary Earps walking over to her. She’d spoken to Mary at the pub quite a lot, having been introduced through the England squad. She was the goalkeeper for Man United, and for the Lionesses. Mary, Queen of Stops.

“Hey, you! Good to see you! How are you mate?” She went straight in for a hug. Mary was lovely and caring, as always.

“Hey Mary. I’m great besides the very long day I’m having.” She laughed. “You were looking pretty solid in warm ups.”

“Aw thanks mate!” She said enthusiastically, hands still on her shoulders and giving her a little shake.

“I have no idea how you jump so high or so quick and the speed that you get up… I was worn out just watching you!”

She laughed at that. “Aw you’re too kind..” then she whispered, “I’ll give you a tenner later.”

YFN rolled her eyes. “Still struggling to accept compliments, I see!”

“Always mate. It’s just so awkward! Anyways, you girls are looking so cute in your little merch. Any chance I could have a beanie?”

“Oh course.” YFN chuckled and grabbed a beanie from her merch bag before putting it on the keeper herself. “Look at that!”

“Do I look cute?” She asked cheekily. “I look cute, don’t I?”

“You’re adorable.” She laughed. “Do they put you up in hotel overnight for these late night games?”

“Oh, yeah. They’ve booked us in London though so it’s a bit of a travel. Late night for us. Where are you staying?”

“London also.” She shrugged. “We probably won’t be home until 11pm.”

Mary groaned and she joined in. They bantered for a little longer until Mary was called into the training rooms and ran away excitedly with her little beanie on.

The game was fairly evenly matched, which was a surprise as Man United were a notoriously a hard team to beat. Because it was so back and forth, the Lumos crew including YFN found themselves running up and down the field for the best footage. It was almost comical. Almost.

At half time, Brighton were up 1-0 and Mary looked disappointed in herself, regardless of the fact that she’d made some incredible saves. Following the break, there was a 2nd yellow given to yet another United player, and it wasn’t until both teams had made multiple substitutions that the next goal was scored, and it was a United goal. 10 minutes later Brighton scored their 2nd, however United managed to equalise again in over time, ending it in a 2-2 draw.

The whole game was entertaining, especially watching Mary have to make so many saves, but also uncomfortable as YFN kept noticing that one photographer who was still taking photos of Lumos around the pitch. She didn’t understand until when they were nearing the end of the game, and she saw a businessman in a suit talking to the photographer and pointing to her. She hadn’t recognised him as he walked down from the crowd, but she had when she saw them talking a little closer to her. It was Mark. Mark from the Charity Event. The one who had basically warned her about Joe without actually warning her. He looked up from his photographer and caught YFN’s eye. Usually it would be normal to smile and wave, but he didn’t. He simply stared with an expression on his face that she couldn’t decipher. Whatever it was, it wasn’t positive.

From then on, she tried to move further away, working her way around the edge of the pitch, however the photographer was always close behind, following her. She felt uneasy, however she was glad he was focussed on her and not her colleagues. She tried to keep him far away from them.

At the end of the game, Mary came back over for her usual, friendly chat and brought Katie Zelem and Ella Toone with her. They were all Lionesses, having played in major tournaments together, and she'd met them all at the pub, so it was a great, natural banter they had about the game. Somehow, she was also roped into doing an interview with the three of them, after Mary had seen that she’d interviewed others and insisted on it, fakely threatening favouritism if YFN didn’t. Bridget came over, they set them up with mics and the ‘interview’ was basically a good chat about all things in the match. YFN realised how much she loved the dynamic of interviewing multiple players who would tease each other and bounce off each other. It was the perfect, relaxed setting. She also made sure to not ask too many questions about the game, preferring that the girls talk about whatever they wanted to about the game to avoid the typical media response. It wasn’t lost on her, however, that Mark’s photographer was filming everything. She put on a brave face for the camera, smiling and laughing with the girls, but felt uneasy.

They all parted ways and Bridget, Emily and YFN didn’t hang around long as they’d all had long days. It was now 9:30pm and they still had a 90 minute drive back to London. They agreed to do their editing tomorrow and call it a night. As YFN entered the car, the hair on the back of her neck stood up as she saw a car parked behind her, on and idling, as if waiting for her to leave. It was strange because most of the car park was already empty, and it was right behind her. One look in the driver’s seat and she could see who it was. The photographer.

She tried to keep her fear under control as she entered Lucy’s car and locked the doors. She immediately felt better but that all went away when she found herself on the M23 being followed.

She told herself to calm down and that they were probably taking a different exit, but they weren’t. They followed her to the M25 and all the way back to towards Lucy’s apartment.

YFN was starting to get scared and ran a cheeky orange light to lose them, which worked. She parked up Lucy’s car and entered the apartment, feeling like she didn’t belong. She turned the lights on and put the keys down near the entrance as she wandered into the beautifully modern place with her overnight bag over her shoulder. She looked around briefly and was reminded of the few happy memories. Sex here. Flirting there. Making out here. Massaging Lucy’s knee there. Making breakfast there.

She shook her head as if it would remove those memories and entered the guest bedroom. She couldn’t bring herself to use Lucy’s bedroom. The one they’d cuddled in and done much worse things in. She unpacked the few items from her overnight bag and looked at the time. Just after 11pm. She needed sleep. She quickly showered and then got dressed into a pair of pajama shorts and a loose top by itself, no bra.  And socks, of course. She always needed socks.

She went to get some water and then found herself fighting a losing battle and letting curiosity and her emotions get the better of her as she entered Lucy’s room. She didn’t pry, she just… looked. Remembered. Then she went into the bathroom which was still filled with Lucy’s face care all lined up and… a blue toothbrush. Like the one she’d left at Jordan’s. YFN picked it up slowly and stared at it before her lips trembled and she gave in to those emotions from the previous few days.

“You’re okay.” She whispered to herself in between sobs. “You’re okay… it’ll pass, remember? You’ve got this.”

Suddenly she heard the front door and ran out as far as Lucy’s bedroom door to see the front door handle shaking, someone palying with the lock. The photographer? Or Mark? She didn’t call out because that would be an admittance that she was in fact there in the apartment. Instead her reaction was to close Lucy’s bedroom door quietly and then move into her bathroom, shutting that and entering the shower. None of the doors had locks and she’d never been more frustrated or scared in her life. She stood in the shower with her back to the corner of the wall, and looked down at the blue toothbrush that was her only form of defence. She couldn’t fight a man.. especially with her being so small.

She heard footsteps and could feel her body shaking as the bathroom door swung open.

[ancientcharm]

Titus Flavius and his indelible traces.

Titus Flavius was born in Rome on December 30 of the year 39. He was a direct descendant of a loyal soldier of Pompey the Great during the Civil War against Julius Caesar. After Pompey's defeat at the Battle of Pharsalia, his life was spared by Julius Caesar, returned to home and became a Publicanus (tax collector). In an incredible twist of fate, the Flavians, a family of peasants, who came from the defeat of the past, ended up occupying the throne founded by Caesar's heir, and replacing the aristocratic Julio-Claudian dynasty with the Flavian dynasty.

During reing of Caligula (37-41) Vespasian,father of Titus, was Aedile of Rome. According Suetonius, Emperor Caligula passed by a street that was very dirty, ordered Vespasian to be brought and the garbage thrown on him, and then told him "Do your job well, keep the city clean."

During the reign of Claudius (41-54) Vespasian obtained the position of praetor and the command of one of the legions that went to the conquest of Britannia.

After revolt in Judea in the year 66, emperor Nero chose the experienced and brilliant general Vespasian to put an end to the rebellion. Vespasian went with his son, Titus, who was then 26 years old, and was an excellent army's officer.

In June 68, after of the death of Nero, the first civil war of the imperial era broke out, which would last until December of the following year. On December of the chaotic year 69, known as the year of the 4 emperors, in which three aristocrats came to the throne and were murdered, Vespasian was proclaimed emperor by the army. Titus was left in command against the rebellion in Judea.

A historical event of mystical relevance.

After months of bloody fighting, on August of the year 70, the Temple of Jerusalem was looted, burned and demolished by Titus's troops.

Titus made his triumphal parade in the year 71 in Rome. Years later, in the place where Titus passed, his younger brother, the Emperor Domitian, ordered the construction of the Arch of Titus; One of its extraordinary relief depicts the triumphal parade with the treasures of the Temple.

Emperor Vespasian decided to tear down the Domus Aurea, the palace that Nero had ordered to be built for his own enjoyment, and build "a palace for the enjoyment of the people". He saw his work almost completed but died of illness on June 23, 79, at his estate. The next day Titus ascends the throne.

A mess with the gods.

Exactly 4 months after his accession to the throne and while his younger brother was celebrating his birthday, a tragic event occurred. An inexplicable and terrifying news reached Rome: the peaceful mount Vesuvius roared, exploded and became something unknown, and several Roman cities with their inhabitants disappeared under "a sea of fire." Among the victims was the prestigious politician, soldier and writer Pliny the Elder, a close friend of the imperial family, who had dedicated the book 'Naturalis historia' to Titus.

Emperor immediately went to the scene of the disaster. He made immense works and donations to help those affected in the area. Early year 80 he went there for the second time and at that time a fire broke out in Rome for three days. Rumors began to circulate that the emperor had a "problem with the gods", and it was due to his forbidden relationship with princess Berenice, great-great-granddaughter of Herod the Great.

Although he was a very popular emperor, he did not want to risk those tragedies affecting his image and the people becoming angry, so he decided in 80 to accelerate his father's work, which still had to wait to be completed. And so began the inauguration of the most famous "stadium" in history : The Flavian amphitheater, better known as Colosseum.

There were 100 days of games. Those shows were free for the people. They had never seen an amphitheater of such grandeur. Very soon the people of Rome forgot about Vesuvius and Berenice.

Coins were minted showing the work started by his father but completed and inaugurated by him. In the image: a sesterce from the time of Emperor Titus.

The pseudo-Nero

After Nero's death, rumors began to circulate that his suicide was not real. Years later, this rumor had spread throughout the empire and even beyond its borders. Suetonius wrote about an event that he experienced during the reign of Domitian: "Twenty years after his death, when I was young, a man of obscure origin appeared, who claimed he was Nero; And the name Nero was still in such favour with the Parthians that they supported him vigorously and surrendered him with great reluctance."

The Parthians were happy believing that Nero was alive because he had been the only Roman emperor they liked, as during his reign he signed the peace treaty and had a cordial attitude towards Parthia.

Titus had to face the rebellion of a guy called Terentius, another Pseudo-Nero that according to ancient historical sources "he sang with a voice equal to that of Nero, played the lyre and looked like him." The impostor had a lot of followers in the eastern Roman provinces. The Parthian king, Titus's enemy, received this man and made preparations for him to return to Rome as emperor but he was executed when his true identity was revealed.

On September 13, 81, Titus died at the age of 41 on his father's farm, due to fever. His brief reign was very prosperous and popular. Having only a daughter (Julia Flavia), his successor was his brother Domitian who would rule for 15 years.

According to Roman writers, his last words were: "I regret nothing except one thing"; And some believe that he regretted having said "no" to Berenice when she proposed marriage after the death of emperor Vespasian, the major opponent of the relationship between them.

The Colosseum and the Wailing Wall are undoubtedly the two indelible traces of Titus Flavius.

[cellarspider]

Spider's Big Prometheus Thing: Index Post

Being a list of all the posts produced in the course of this inexplicable project of mine. This project is now complete, at an unexpectedly extensive thirty entries long.

I swear, I didn't intend for it to go like that, but it was fun to write.

All entries have at least a minimum level of citations for where to start looking for more facts on any subject external to the movie itself, which includes everything from how DNA is sequenced to how Nickolodeon slime is made, and from the comedy in mislabeled portraits of early church fathers to the correct attribution of a cat's contributions to historical linguistics.

Be aware that there's also hidden rambling and bonus facts in the image alt text. A lot of them.

0. Introduction

Setting the scene, including my background, my intent, and where this movie is going.

1. Opening

Expectations, landscapes, and aliens.

Rambles: DNA, whether aliens would have it, and why it doesn't look like a pale bacon ladder.

Alt-text rambles: nano-bubbles.

2. Discovery

The Isle of Skye is gorgeous, the movie attempts to establish its themes, and why it had already got my hackles up. Rambles: how cool ancient and pre-modern peoples were, the implications of humanoid figures in European cave paintings, and misplaced lions. Alt-text rambles: seriously, Skye is just so cool. Erich von Däniken and modern publishing royalties are not.

3. David

We meet the loneliest android, and his fandom of choice. Rambles: I go nuts for a paragraph over Proto-Indo-European. Alt-text rambles: Help me remember a dude's name, that time Ron Perlman saw Sigourney Weaver do something so cool he forgot to act, and a Coronation Street conspiracy theory.

4. Humans (Derogatory)

We meet the human crew, and analyze why they're a mismatch to the movie's established expectations, and what subgenre they fit in most. It isn't the one the movie seems to be aiming for. Rambles: 50s B-movies and their Men Of Science, modern movies and their quietly suffering scientists. Alt-text rambles: inconsistently moist characters, Idris Elba's christmas tree decorations.

5. Pseudoarchaeology (Extremely Derogatory)

We meet Old Man Capitalism, poor logistics, and how the movie began to really lose me through dropping in some racist pseudoscience tropes. Rambles: more logistics (of alien bioengineering), historical art styles, what the world was getting up to in the 600s CE Alt-text rambles: Linguistics, more ranting, the life and extraordinarily ornate death of Kʼinich Janaabʼ Pakal. Rants: the existence of writing, people who don't look like you can still think, stargazing and how conspiracy theorists don't understand it.

6. Roads

Poor firearm safety with Chekhov's Gun, when movies move too fast, atmospheric chemistry, and the moment I began to yearn for blood. Rambles: First contact protocols, why 3% CO₂ won't kill you but it will make you weird, my personal experience digging up a Roman road. Alt-text rambles: the logistics of securing items in moving craft, linguistics, atmospheric science, colorblind-friendly diagram design, swearing about orology, and cursing the crew for their fictional crimes against archaeology. Rants: Why they should've stayed in orbit, and my impassioned defense of historically significant transportation infrastructure.

7. Masking

The bit that made most people realize these characters were idiots. Featuring an attempt at themes. Rambles: NASA's policies on biological contaminants Alt-text rambles: Benedict Wong having nothing to do, helmet design, driving on dusty track, the tiny overlap between archaeological horrors and Minecraft, the CDC's excellent captions on men sneezing. Rants: Nominating a man for the Heinrich Schliemann Archaeology Award, all these people are catching space covid

8. Ghosts

Comparing the Engineers to their series antecedents, and I develop a slight soft spot for the geologist. Rambles: Set design in Alien, how carbon dating works. Alt-text rambles: Adventure games, GET DOWN MISTER PRESIDENT, I get very excited for Dune: Part Two, the archival devotion of people with rare blorbos.

9. Dignity

Personal, professional, social, and media context for the treatment of people's remains. Rambles: Personal experiences around the archaeological discovery of human skeletons, professional codes of ethics, movies that handle dead bodies better by being more crass about it. Alt-text rambles: None, the main text gets full focus this time.

10. Atmosphere

How intertextual imagery is overused, how the one major character arc is developing, and a whole grab bag of miscellaneous shambolic events. Rambles: How tourist-breath can destroy artifacts, and a deleted scene Alt-text rambles: Whether explaining mysteries is always the wrong decision in fantasy, the usefulness of helmets, Mass Effect's loading screens, please someone give me more recommendations for things where Giger creatures aren't all bad, and how cultural variation in gestures can make you look like an asshole. Rants: they aren't done desecrating the dead oh boy it's just gonna get worse

11. Decontamination

How to present an audience with events that make no sense, how to do it eerily, and how Prometheus does this by accident. Rambles: NASA's Apollo 11 quarantine policies Alt-text rambles: How 2001: A Space Odyssey put on a cosmic lightshow, how traditions are faked for political and social power in Midsommar, confusing lab equipment, robot arm safety, the use of camper vans in space exploration, umarell behavior, and robot horror movies. Bonus text rambles: pressurized gas cylinder safety, and how the cargo of one truck apparently tried to join Roscosmos. Rants: Laboratory safety

12. Shocking

Mary Shelly would not be proud of them. Rambles: Which home electrical appliances their tomfoolery is equivalent to. Alt-text rambles: Semiotics and Alien, reuse of props and art department equipment, the cast's inability to look at things, how the first chestburster scene intelligently incorporated spontaneity, and I completely lose my mind over a single computer readout, finding out in the process that the Engineers are close cousins to the common house mouse. Rants: I didn't think that "don't stick electrical plugs in people's ears" would be something that needed to be said, but here we are.

13. Family Tree

A soothing ramble about some of the cool bits of my job. Rambles: How evolution has made some vertebrate blood white or green, how genomes are sequenced, and how to determine the relatedness of species. And more. A lot more. I love my job. It's so cool. Alt-text rambles: How Nickelodeon slime was made, how hecking tiny molecules are, why blue-tongued skinks have blue tongues, my review of Dune: Part Two, how hard I worked to not turn Gene Wilder into a jumpscare, lots of enthusiastic explanations of DNA sequencing techniques, the aesthetics of the machines wot do that for you, how "snip" no longer sounds like a verb to me, and how I started out as a computational scientist.

14. Cheers

David poisons a man, and how his character arc ties into christian-influenced existential dread. Rambles: series continuity, gnostic theology, Ridley Scott's beliefs. Alt-text rambles: How to ruin petri dishes, Vickers' questionably carbon-based existence, the game of Operation, hand doubles in filming, how the funniest possible misidentification of an early church figure is wandering around the internet, the cool genders of suit actors, gnostic Archons, and the Engineers as Sophia. Rants: Holloway seems unaware that archaeologists study dead people, Ridley Scott is his own biggest problem.

15. Unworthy

The movie does something I'm not going to joke about. Don't read this if you're having a bad day. Big content warning for Holocaust imagery.

16. Intimacy

Your asexual commentator grapples with Hollywood's terrible track record on romantic and sexual chemistry. Rambles: Why we don't say an archaic-looking species is "older" than another, how religious scientists do what they do Alt-text rambles: the human family tree, Abbott and Costello, pitcher plant cultivars, the creative possibilities of a Buddhist version of this movie, and Stephen Still's lack of accordions. Rants: I've never been a boyfriend but I'm pretty sure that's not how you do it

17. Threat

Prometheus takes a hard turn into old slasher movie tropes. Rambles: A movie trailer that gave Wee Spider the screaming heebies Alt-text rambles: The age rating of Prometheus, a spontaneous X-Files crossover AU, Pitch Black, how likely it may or may not be that the images in the post will get flagged, critter behavior, insufficient EVA suit design, and the content balancing I take into account when selecting screenshots. Rants: This movie does not seem to know what it is. Alt-text rants: Ditto, focusing on characterization.

18. Flames

"Mac wants the flamethrower!" Rambles: I wandered off in the middle to watch a 40k comedy video, does that count? Alt-text rambles: More content-balancing, what kind of very English critter David appears to be, dune buggy design, Star Wars: The Old Republic is worth your time, Dune: Part Two is worth your time, an extremely long ramble about integration of CG background elements, and Oblivion memes. Alt-text rants: Movie color grading and lighting, undercutting scares.

19. Stars

The movie shows how good it can be when no dialog is involved. Rambles: The movie Contact and how Prometheus could've learned from it. Alt-text rambles: How I estimate large numbers from a still image, a brief Baldur's Gate 3 appearance, the set design and staging of a room made for giants with squishy computers, the use of color to make a cohesive scene, facts about Uranus, visual intimation of threat, VFX wizardry, practical FX wizardry, Michael Fassbender's wordless acting.

20. Expectant

The movie shows how good it can be when character choice is removed from the horror. Rambles: the inspiration and place of chestbursting in Alien movies, the continuing religious symbolism in the movie, the clunky dialog, how to build or undermine tension, and the good blending of practical and CG effects, and how tiny creatures of the ocean manage to be more uncanny than horror critters. Alt-text rambles: reading details the prop department never meant for you to see. Alt-text Rants: the return of the head-exploder and the first sight of actual PPE, slowly mangling a plot point's name until it has been thoroughly folded, spindled, and mutilated.

21. Underdelivered

The movie shows how terrible it can be when horror doesn't build tension. Rambles: Contortionists in horror, hillbilly horror/hixploitation movies. Alt-text rambles: Resident Evil 7, Dead Space and "strategic dismemberment"

22. Hubris

The movie tries to do some themes again Rambles: my ineffable desire to genetically sequence ditch weeds, Left Behind Alt-text rambles: Brad Dourif's commitment to the bit in The Two Towers, nigh-invisible wheelchair product placement, the Fallout series in general and the upcoming show in particular, praise for an epic-length critique of Left Behind, Robert Zemeckis' bizarre quest to mocap everything Rants: This movie does a terrible job representing both religiosity and atheism

23. Informed

Exposition is delivered, and plot points try to knit together. Rambles: The Silent Hill movie, Pacific Rim Alt-text rambles: Pyramid Head's secret unclothed backside, demanding environmental enrichment for scientists, greebling, Tumblr's favorite shitty copper merchant Rants: What could've been done instead of an exposition dump and daddy issues Alt-text rants: these people and their interior design are tempting fate and testing my patience

24. Inscribed

I go rogue and ramble about constructed languages and cuneiform for an entire post. Guest appearances from Klingon pop music and a delightfully eccentric Assyriologist. Rambles: All of it. Alt-text rambles: the self-awareness of conlangers, fingernail length, Schleischer's Fable as a warm-up for the next section, my primary conlang derangement, speculation about whether cuneiform was legible for the blind, my beef with the cowards at Lucasfilm for refusing to use Star Wars' coolest letters, my love for Warframe's Grineer, going into far too much detail about redesigning Prometheus' Engineer script, and finally, the many crocodiles of ancient egyptian hieroglyphs. Rants: None/all of it

25. Judgement

We discuss some of what the movie doesn't. Rambles: Fiction and morality, Blade Runner, biblical allusions the story could've made and doesn't Alt-text rambles: Lance Henriksen's insane career, the paintings of John Martin and a surprise George Washington, Rutger Hauer's effect on Blade Runner, my tentative plans for the next essay series. Rants: Germs, old man makeup. Alt-text Rants: The characters are reading ahead in the script again, the half-assed Engineer writing system continues to hurt me

26. Awoken

I go bananas over PIE. Rambles: fix-it fic for this damned movie, PIE, how to avoid PIE, how to analyze PIE, and my personal alternative to PIE. Alt-text rambles: calculating how long the Engineer's overslept, their potential spiritual kinship to Moominpapa, behind the scenes photos of the suit actors, Prometheus rants in the days of LiveJournal, the game Hades, how hard it personally is to get PIE right, the linguistics nerdery of the Hittite empire, and watermarks. Rants: how the movie fails its premise and hurts my soul with linguistics

27. Shortcomings

The characters, and movie, fail to get their message across to someone bent on their destruction. Rambles: David's confused religious symbolism, Star Trek Alt-text rambles: My desire for fanfic, behind the scenes photos, what other critters the Engineer's suit actor has played, the naming of Australopithecines, crash-proofing a movie set, alien gender, Gandahar and how French animated SF in the 80s was awesome, Scorn and its expert consultation from a cenobite, and Doctor Strangelove. Rants: the assumptions of the human characters, I go from trying to be measured to actively spiting the writer for his take on thoughtful SF Alt-text Rants: Del Toro is the only one who gets me, the movie has forgotten its main character just had a major surgery, one last rant about how terribly unsafe the Prometheus was as a ship, before it becomes definitively not a ship.

28. Momentum

It's the bit where she doesn't turn. Rambles: How to fix the dumbest thing we've seen in a hot minute, Edge of Tomorrow and feeling Tom Cruise's fear, how the dead thing is never really dead in horror. Alt-text rambles: How hard it is to find the most catchy song in We Love Katamari, more behind the scenes pictures of my blorbos, Friday the 13th Part IV, bad braille, and trilobites. Rants: I mean how can you not when the movie forgets how space works? Like, the idea of 3D space as a concept? Also, a particular rock earns my ire, and my ranting about interior designs on ships finally pays off.

29. Dissonance

The ending of the movie, and its tonal incoherency. Rambles: Protagonist-centric morality and lack thereof Alt-text rambles: Star Trek TNG, green blood, caecilian teeth. Rants: shallow christian themes, sequels that could have been, Shaw's confusingly deployed robo-racism Alt-text rants: sequel disappointments, inadvisable post-caesarian activities, how the hell do you fit that much 'burster into one chest, biological plausibility in alien extend-o-mouths

30. Justification

A breakdown of a post-release interview with Ridley Scott, explaining some missing details. Rambles: Gnosticism again, Mesoamerican and European human sacrifice and the exoticization of shared cultural practices, and a hearty book recommendation. Alt-text rambles: Icelandic volcanoes, The Collector (2009), Stephen Speilberg's War of the Worlds and how scaring the shit out of someone isn't necessarily the job of a horror film, the Tollund Man, unique cultural practices, Hello Future Me, and my opinions on what we've seen of Alien: Romulus. Rants: Ancient peoples weren't stupid, an unexamined christian-centric worldview, an unexamined christian-centric worldview, I CANNOT STRESS ENOUGh

[paigegonerogue]

My Top 5 Shots in Every Episode of TLOU

Episode 1

TW: Guns, creepy imagery

Quick disclaimer that I was not able to find two scenes I wanted for shots in this list. I couldn’t find unedited versions of the scene with the infected child, or Ellie’s introduction, however their are plenty of other amazing shots in this list without them!

Number #5

The Last of Us quite often has very shallow depth of field. That means shots in which the background is out of focus (blurry). It works well for a lot of things, like making really pretty shots or drawing attention to certain things, but in this case it uses it for suspense. Ms. Adler twitching in the background is absolute nightmare fuel, and the way that it was played, with the camera focused on an unaware Sarah the whole time, was so incredibly well done and scary that this shot became one of my favorites of the episode.

Number #4

This one is great on a lot of levels. Not only is it pretty, with the out of focus fire lighting half of Sarah’s face (making the shot prettier with shallow depth of field), but the color scheme absolutely rocks too. But I think my favorite thing about this shot is the emotion it portrays without saying a word. Props to Nico Parker, because the tone of the visuals and her devastated expression really show the toll the apocalypse is taking on Sarah.

Number #3

This shot is a masterclass in “show don’t tell”. With just this image, we instantly know exactly what type of place our protagonists are living in. Dirty streets, snipers on roofs, lack of freedom or happiness. Somehow this one shots delivers paragraphs of exposition, and does it so well and good-looking that it’s not only bearable, but excellent.

Number #2

Another example of how well this show uses depth of field, this shot works on so many levels, and also just looks absolutely awesome. The contrasting colors of the oranges and browns of the set vs. the blues and grays of the screen is so striking, and I have just always been an absolute sucker for shots of shots, and this is one of the best executed ones I’ve ever seen.

Before I reveal my #1, here are some honorable mentions…

This shot is simply fantastic. The explosion, the people, the view through the car window, it all just works absolutely so well.

Another excellent example of visual world building, showing the tanks driving through the streets. The ultra-high camera angle also looks fantastic, and the way they used the rooftops and textures is just incredible.

Two really gorgeous, well-lit shots of Sarah.

Just like the entire show, this is a really well lite scene, and the way it uses depth of field is so well-done and pretty. Also the high 3/4 angle is fantastic, and don’t even get me started on the eery, creepy tentacles.

Number #1

This is just an I incredible shot all around. The side profiles and rim-lighting for Joel and Sarah, the out of focus explosion centered in the background. It’s so well executed, and you can feel the emotion, the fear, coming through the screen. Bravo!

Tune in for ep 2 tmrw!

[yaellaharpe-blog]

Antigua Via Latina / The ancient Via Latina

In the middle of the Roman periphery, between the modern Via Appia and Via Tuscolana, a section of the 3rd mile of the ancient Via Latina is preserved in perfect condition.

It has ancient origins: the natural route, already followed in prehistoric times, was used by the Etruscans to colonise Campania in the 8th-6th centuries BC.

Definitely laid out by the Romans around the IV-III centuries B.C., it connected Rome with Capua, maintaining its importance throughout Antiquity. In fact, even in the Middle Ages, it was preferred as an access road to Naples because of its better preservation compared to the Appian Way and the presence of a number of Christian places of worship along the route..

Entering the Archaeological Park of the Tombs of the Via Latina, it is now possible to walk along a section of the original paving of the street. With a pleasant walk you can admire the rich tombs dating back to the I-II century A.D. that overlooked the route, which still have perfectly preserved polychrome decorations on the façades and inside: vaults covered with painted plaster and stucco, walls frescoed with funerary scenes and rich mosaic floors are still substantially intact in their original context.

From the street it is also possible to reach the Basilica of S. Stefano, a rare example of an early Christian building erected under the pontificate of Leo the Great in the middle of the 5th century.

Santo Stefano en Vía Latina, restos parcialmente reconstruidos, 1911.

Santo Stefano in Via Latina, partially reconstructed remains, 1911.

The Archaeological Park of the Tombs of the Via Latina was created in 1879 following the acquisition by the State of a vast area in which important remains from Roman times had been discovered.

BARBERINI TOMB

The so-called Barberini Sepulchre, or Sepulchre of the Corneli. The funerary monument, dating from the 2nd century AD, consists of two above-ground floors and a hypogeum in an excellent state of preservation. The upper floor is covered by a ribbed vault completely covered with plaster painted with a red background and stucco elements. Groups of figures, winged victories on chariots, love affairs, birds, marine animals, mythological themes and architectural backgrounds can be recognised.

Sepulcro Barberini y su interior / Barberini Tomb and its interior

TOMB OF THE VALERI

The Tomb of the Valeri. The richly decorated underground rooms dating from the mid-2nd century AD are preserved, while the elevation is a hypothetical reconstruction dating from the mid-19th century. An elaborate white stucco covering, articulated in 35 medallions and panels, adorns the lunettes and the barrel vault of the underground room. The medallions depict Dionysian themes, female figures and sea animals, while in the central tondo there is a delicate-veiled figure on the back of a griffin, representing the deceased being carried to the afterlife.

Tumba de los Valeri, exterior e interior / Tomb of the Valeri, exterior and interior

THE TOMB OF THE PANCRATII

The Tomb of the Pancratii. Much of the visible structure is a modern construction that protects the monument below by resting on the original 1st-2nd century AD walls, about a metre high. Upon entering the tomb, one can admire the beautifully decorated underground rooms, with mosaics on the floors and vaults and walls frescoed in bright colours and stucco in an excellent state of preservation. They depict mythological scenes, natural and architectural landscapes, images of women and animals. In the centre of one of the underground chambers is a large sarcophagus for two Greek marble depositions.

Sepulcro de los Pancracios, exterior e interior / Tomb of the Pancracios, exterior and interior