#flash point 2007

[in-your-walls]

You can’t even make this shit up. He literally leaves Judy to go back to help Ma EVEN THOUGH HE’S HEAVILY INJURED AND WILL PROBABLY GET KILLED, it’s HIS turn to help out his partner. Sick and twisted. Don’t even get me started on how Judy’s wish to go away and leave Hong Kong with Wilson has been paralleled with Tony’s wish to go back to Vietnam with his mom. And neither are getting that. But also how this is in a way Wilson talking responsibility— he can’t just leave like nothing’s happened. He is connected to Hong Kong. He’s connected through Ma. or something. Whatever. What do I know. 🤡

[stellaspectral]

Hello! How are you! I have literally binged all your work on ao3 in the space of a few hours! I am besotted!!! You write angst like it’s no one’s business!

Lucky me I see your requests are open!

Okay I was wondering if I could request 2007 or bayverse , either Raph or Leo with an established relationship!reader

who had a life altering event happen, ( for e.g being involved with the turtles got her in danger ) and the trauma completely changes her , she becomes cold, secretive ( bonus point if reader becomes vigilante to get revenge ) as a way to cope. how Would the turtles react to that? How would they mend their relationship?

up to you whether it’s straight up angst or angst to comfort!

I know this is a lot so please disregard this if it’s a bit out there, or take what you want from this and make your own spin! I’d frankly read your grocery list!

A/N: Hey there! 👋 Thank you so, so much for your incredibly kind words about my work! Hearing that you binged it and enjoyed the angst has really made my day 🥰

For this request, I’m going with Bayverse Raph. I hope you enjoy it! 💖

The Space Between a Touch (angst)

❤️ Bayverse Raphael/Female Reader ❤️

CWs: Angst, depictions of PTSD and trauma aftermath, past kidnapping, self-destructive behavior, light swearing, some violence and fighting. All characters are aged-up.

The change didn’t happen overnight. It was a creeping frost, starting in your eyes and slowly encasing your heart.

Before, your laughter used to echo in the lair. You’d spar with Leo, teasing him about his seriousness, play video games with Mikey, and assist Donnie with ideas for his inventions. At the end of the day, you’d curl up against Raph’s side, his massive arm a familiar, comforting weight.

That was before.

Before the ambush, before Karai’s blade had sliced too close. Before you’d been grabbed, used as bait.

The memory of the knife’s edge against your neck, the feeling of rough hands dragging you, the chilling pronouncements and threats from Shredder—they play on a loop. You were a vulnerability, a weakness they exploited. And that knowledge has become your armor, keeping everyone out.

Mikey will hold out a controller, his eyes hopeful and pleading. “Just one round? For old times’ sake?” The flashing colors on the screen and the upbeat music feel garish now. You shake your head and tell him you’re busy. The lie tastes like ash in your mouth as you walk away, his smile faltering.

Donnie still shows you his latest gadgets, his explanations enthusiastic, but you no longer offer suggestions. Your mind, once buzzing with complimentary ideas, feels … blank. Static-y. He’ll look at you, searching for that spark. And when he doesn’t find it, his voice trails off, a quiet disappointment settling in his eyes.

Leo approaches you with a different tactic. He finds you in the dojo. Not meditating, not practicing. Just standing in the center, your arms wrapped tight around yourself as if trying to hold the splintering pieces of your composure together. His footsteps are deliberate on the tatami, giving you ample time to acknowledge him.

You don’t turn.

“We need to train,” he states, his voice devoid of its usual older-brother warmth, replaced by the clipped, focused tone of a leader assessing a critical situation. It’s not a request. He moves to stand a few feet in front of you, his expression unreadable. “Now.”

The words are like stones dropped into a frozen pond. For a moment, you almost expect them to skid across the ice you’ve built around your heart. You finally meet his gaze. The Leo before you isn’t the brother you teased; he’s the warrior, the strategist—and he’s looking at you like a problem to be solved.

Training. As if a few katas could erase the phantom feel of steel against your skin. As if a perfect block could undo the way your own body had betrayed you by freezing in terror.

“Why?” The word escapes you, a broken shard of sound, barely a whisper. It’s more than you’ve said to any of them in days.

Leo’s jaw tightens almost imperceptibly. “Because out there,” he gestures vaguely towards the city beyond the lair, “they won’t care if you’re not feeling up to it. They won’t wait for you to be ready. Shredder knows your face. He knows you’re with us. You think he won’t try again?”

The implied threat, the reminder of your vulnerability, stabs through the numbness. It’s the very thing that haunts you. You slowly unwrap your arms, your fingers stiff. “Fine.” The word is flat. You don’t reach for a weapon. You simply settle into a basic defensive stance, rigid and shallow.

Leo observes you, his gaze sharp, analytical. He doesn’t comment on your lack of a weapon, nor on the reluctance radiating from you. Instead, he mirrors your stance. “Defend yourself,” he orders, and then he attacks.

His fist comes at your face. A deeply buried reflex from countless hours spent in this very dojo makes you raise an arm. Though it’s too slow, too hesitant. His knuckles connect with your forearm, not with full force. But enough to send a shockwave up your shoulder. The thud echoes the dull ache that has taken permanent residence in your chest.

He doesn’t pause. A leg sweeps towards yours. You stumble back, ungainly, your feet feeling like lead. There’s no grace in your movement, none of the familiar rhythm of sparring. He’s peeling back the layers of your composure, one precise strike at a time.

“Again,” he says, and launches another flurry.

You try to parry, to block, but your limbs feel disconnected from your brain. The commands get lost in the haze. Each impact, even a glancing one, sends a fresh jolt of memory through you.

Rough hands gripping your arms, pinning you.

The glint of steel too close to your vitals.

You flinch, and the movement leaves you open. Leo’s foot connects with your side. It’s controlled, a training tap, but you gasp, doubling over slightly. The air rushes out of your lungs, and with it, a sliver of the ice around your heart seems to crack, releasing a fresh wave of chilling fear.

“Focus!” Leo barks.

His words strike a nerve. An animal—that’s what you feel like. Trapped. Helpless.

“I can’t!” you yell. A choked sob escapes you, a sound you instantly try to swallow. But it’s out. Hanging in the air between you, more damning than any outcry.

Leo stills, surprise and concern flickering in his eyes.

You can’t fight him. Can’t fight this.

You can’t go back to who you were.

“I … I can’t,” you whisper, the admission tearing through you. Before you rush out of the dojo, out of the lair.

Of course, your change in behavior hits Raph the hardest.

When he reaches for you on the couch, you flinch, the phantom weight of Shredder’s hand a cold press against your skin. It’s a reminder of helplessness, of being held against your will. At night, you lie rigid, your back mostly to him, feigning sleep almost immediately. You feel him hesitate, his breath warm against your hair, his hand hovering as if unsure whether to touch you, to bridge the gap.

The feeling of Raph’s plastron against your back, the rumbling chuckle that vibrated through you when you said something particularly cheeky. The surprisingly gentle way his massive, three-fingered hands would cup your face—those are memories now. Sepia-toned and distant, from a life that feels like it belonged to someone else.

The closeness you once craved now feels like a brand, and the frost inside you deepens. Preserving the pain, ensuring no one can get close enough to make you vulnerable again. Your armor is strong, unyielding.

And utterly, terribly lonely.

A chasm has opened between you and the brothers. You see the worry on their faces, the way they exchange glances when you turn away. You hear the hushed tones of their conversations, though the words remain just out of reach. But the fear whispers insidious lies, telling you that distance is safety.

And so, you remain encased, a prisoner of your own memories.

You don’t visit the lair much anymore. Instead, you train at home. At the gym. Becoming faster, more ruthless. You patrol on your own, taking down Foot soldiers and other criminals with a fury that would make even Raph pause. You’re protecting them, you tell yourself.

You won’t be the weak link again.

You’re rarely even at your apartment long enough to talk to Raph when he visits. And sometimes, you disappear for hours on him, often returning well after midnight. You offer vague excuses: “Needed air” or “Just a walk.”

But Raph sees the new bruises overlaid on top of the fading ones. He sees the cut above your eyebrow you try to hide with your hair, the way you move with a carefully concealed stiffness that speaks of fresh pain.

And tonight, something in him snaps.

You barely have your keys out of the lock when his enormous frame fills the narrow hallway of your apartment, blocking your path. He crosses his arms over his chest, his shadow engulfing you. The dim light from the living room throws his features into sharp relief, and the usual gruff fondness in his eyes is gone, replaced by a simmering, dangerous stillness.

“Where were you?”

“Out,” you mumble, trying to sidestep him.

He doesn’t move. Instead, his hand reaches out, his fingers brushing against the fresh scrape on your cheekbone you hadn’t even realized was bleeding. You flinch violently, recoiling as if burned.

His hand freezes, then slowly retracts, a flicker of hurt crossing his face before the anger resettles. “Out gettin’ this?” he presses, his voice tightening. “And the one you’re hidin’ over your eye? What about the ribs I know you’re favorin’?”

“I can handle myself, Raph,” you say, your voice harsher than you intend.

“Handle yourself?” He takes a step closer, and you instinctively brace, your back hitting the wall. “More like handling gettin’ yourself killed. There’s a difference, you know.” His eyes, usually a warm green, are narrowed, boring into you. “You think this is protectin’ us? Runnin’ around like a maniac, pickin’ fights you can barely walk away from?”

“I’m not weak anymore,” you spit out, the old fear twisting into a snarl. “I won’t be a liability. Not again.”

“A liability?” He scoffs. “You think this ain’t makin’ you one? What happens when you don’t come back one night, huh? What are we supposed to do then? What am I supposed to do?”

His voice cracks on the last question. You see the deep worry lines etched around his eyes, the exhaustion in the slump of his shoulders that he usually hides so well.

“You think we don’t see you? The way you keep pullin’ away?” he continues, his voice dropping again, thick with pain. “Leo’s beside himself. Mikey keeps tryin’ to get you to smile, just once. Donnie … he just looks lost.” He shakes his head, his gaze dropping to the floor for a second before snapping back to yours. “And you … you look at me …”

He hesitates.

“You look at me like I’m … like I’m him,” he says, his voice barely a whisper. “Like I’m gonna hurt you.”

The accusation hangs in the air, heavy and suffocating. His eyes search yours, desperate for a denial. For any sign that the you he knew—the you he loves—is still in there, somewhere beneath the ice and fury.

You open your mouth, but no words come out. The shame of his statement lodges in your throat, a bitter pill. Because sometimes, in the dark, when a hand reaches for you—even his—the terror is so blinding you can’t tell friend from foe.

His expression crumples, just for a second, the sight more devastating than any roar of anger. Then, the hardness returns. “This ain’t strength,” he says, his voice flat, final. “This is you dyin’ slow. And you’re draggin’ us all through hell with you.”

He turns then, not waiting for your response, leaving you alone when he departs for the lair. The cut on your cheek stings, a reminder of the battles you keep choosing. And for the first time since everything went to shit, you wonder if this is a battle you can actually win.

Or if you’re just ensuring everyone you care about loses.

Donnie confirms your late-night habits one night. As if Raph didn’t already know. But he dreads his brothers’ reactions.

You’re not here, of course. You’re out somewhere in the city’s sprawling darkness, chasing the adrenaline that numbs the ache, oblivious to the fact that your carefully constructed secrecy is crumbling—because Raph knows his brothers aren’t going to let it go.

Donnie swivels in his chair to look at his monitors. “I’ve been tracking the use of my tech,” he says, tapping some keys. A map flares to life on the main screen, your recent patrol routes shown in red lines. “As well as unusual activity on police scanners and reports for the past few weeks.” He pauses, looking over his shoulder at his brothers. “She’s been going out alone. Not for walks. She’s been hunting.”

Despite already knowing, Raph’s blood runs cold, then hot. The protective fury that defines him surges, so potent it makes him tremble. Not at you. For you. And at Karai, Shredder—at the world that broke you.

Leo’s breath hitches. His eyes, usually so focused and analytical, widen as he stares at the patrol routes—your patrol routes—illuminated in damning red across the city map. The sheer recklessness of it, the isolation, hits him like a blow to the chest.

“Alone?” he murmurs, the word laced with a dawning horror and a sharp sting of guilt as he remembers your shattered cry in the dojo.

Leo thought it was a momentary break, a surrender to fear. He hadn’t grasped it as a declaration of this self-imposed, dangerous exile. His mind races, replaying every interaction, every sign he missed or misinterpreted. His gaze flickers to Raph, seeing the barely contained storm in his brother’s eyes, and then back to the screen, a muscle working in his jaw.

He should have seen this. He should have known. The strategic part of his brain screams about the tactical disadvantage, the unnecessary risk. But beneath it, he aches with a profound sense of failure.

Mikey goes utterly still—before his head snaps up, his eyes wide with an emerging, terrible understanding. “Hunting?” he echoes, the word small, almost childlike. He pictures you out there, alone in the dark, facing down the kind of threats that make even their seasoned team move with caution.

The image of the you he knows being consumed by this cold, violent purpose is hard for Mikey to comprehend. A knot forms in his throat, tight and painful. “No …” he whispers, shaking his head slowly, as if denying the truth will make it somehow vanish. “Not … not by herself. She wouldn’t … she knows better …”

But even as the words stumble out, he remembers your averted gaze at his game invitations, the way you recoiled when he tried to sling an arm around your shoulder. He’d thought you were just sad, lost in a funk he could eventually coax you out of with enough persistence. He hates he was so oblivious.

“She could get really hurt, guys,” Mikey says, his voice filled with a visceral fear for your life. “We gotta find her. Now!”

“What are we waitin’ for?” Raph slams a fist into his palm. “Donnie, you got a lock on her?” His voice is a low growl, the protective fury he feels for you practically radiating off him in waves.

“I’m working on it,” Donnie replies, fingers flying across his keyboard, his brow furrowed in concentration. “Her tracker signal is faint. She must be deep in the old warehouse district by the docks. And—oh no.” His voice drops, a note of alarm entering his tone. “Multiple heat signatures converging on her position. Foot. A lot of them.”

Leo’s face is grim, his earlier guilt solidifying into steely resolve. He meets Raph’s furious gaze, then Mikey’s, and finally Donnie’s. “Gear up,” he orders, doing his best to remain calm despite his rising panic for your safety. “We go in fast, we secure her, and we get out. No unnecessary risks, but she’s our priority.”

This isn’t just a rescue mission. It’s about bringing you back from the brink.

From the abyss you’ve thrown yourself into.

You’re crouched on a rain-slicked rooftop, the city’s neon glow reflecting in the surrounding puddles. The wind whips your hair across your face, stinging your eyes, but you welcome the bite. It keeps you sharp, keeps the ghosts at bay, if only for a moment.

Below, a van pulls up to a darkened warehouse, figures clad in familiar black outfits spilling out. Foot. Too many. Caution tries to pierce through the anger that’s become your constant companion. You ignore it. This is what you do now. This is how you prove you’re not a liability.

You drop silently from the rooftop, landing in the shadows of an alleyway, your breath misting in the cool night air. You move with a speed and ferocity that is born of a reckless disregard for your own safety. The first two Foot soldiers go down before they even register your presence—a swift strike to the temple, a brutal knee to the gut.

You move through them, a whirlwind of focused rage. But they keep coming.

They’re more prepared tonight, or maybe you’re just pushing your luck too far. You narrowly avoid a kunai, the metal grazing your arm, drawing a thin line of blood. Spinning to meet the next attacker, you grit your teeth against the sting. You block a punch, counter with an elbow, but another soldier comes at you from the side.

You duck, but not fast enough; the weapon connects with your ribs. It steals your breath and sends a jagged bolt of pain through your side. You stumble, a gasp escaping your lips. For a horrifying second, the faces of the Foot soldiers blur, morphing into Shredder’s visage. Panic lances through you.

No. Not again!

You fight back with renewed desperation. You take down two more, but you’re outnumbered, outmaneuvered. A blow to the back of your head sends you sprawling onto the pavement. Stars explode behind your eyes, and the world tilts precariously. Rough hands grab your arms, hauling you to your feet.

“She’s the one,” a gruff voice snarls, too close to your ear. “Karai will be pleased.”

Your heart plummets. This is it. This is exactly what you were trying to avoid, the scenario that’s haunted your nightmares. You’ve failed. You’ve become the weak link all over again. Despair washes over you, so potent it almost extinguishes the fight in you.

Just as a pair of Foot soldiers begin to drag you towards the warehouse, a familiar roar cuts through the night.

“GET YOUR FILTHY FUCKIN’ HANDS OFF HER!”

A massive green shape hurtles out of the darkness, slamming into the two soldiers holding you with the force of a battering ram. You fall to your knees as they’re sent flying. Before you can even process it, another green blur, smaller and faster, clears a path around you while another deflects incoming attacks.

From the rooftops, shuriken fly with pinpoint accuracy, disarming several more soldiers. You look up, then look around you.

Raph. Leo. Donnie. Mikey.

They’re here.

They found you.

They came for you.

Leo lands beside you, beating back a blow aimed at you. “You okay?” he asks, his voice tight with controlled urgency, his eyes assessing you quickly for injuries before flicking back to the remaining Foot.

You can only stare, the word “Fine” dying on your lips. The fight is still raging around you, but for a moment, everything seems to slow.

Raph is a force of nature, tearing through the Foot with a righteous fury that makes your own recent efforts look like child’s play. Mikey is a vibrant, chaotic blur of orange amidst the grunts and sounds of combat. Yet every move is precise, protecting your periphery. Donnie uses his tech-enhanced staff, sending out small electrical charges, creating openings, and controlling the flow of the fight.

You watch them move as one, a perfectly honed unit. Protecting you.

The armor around your heart cracks.

They dispatched the remaining Foot soldiers with brutal efficiency. The clash of metal fades, replaced by their heavy breathing and the distant wail of city sirens. But your world has narrowed to the colossal figure dropping to his knees in front of you.

Raph.

His eyes are wide, frantic, scanning you from head to toe. The fury that propelled him through the fight is still thrumming beneath his skin, but now it’s overshadowed by a desperate concern that makes his features almost painfully vulnerable. “You hurt?” he asks, his voice a hoarse rasp.

His hands, the ones you’ve flinched from—the ones you imagined were Shredder’s in your nightmares—reach out. They hover for a heart-stopping second. Then, with an almost agonizing tenderness, one hand gently cups your cheek, his thumb brushing your jaw. You don’t recoil.

You try to nod, to form words. But a choked sound is all that escapes. The fight, the fear, the sudden appearance of your saviors—it all crashes over you.

“Hey, hey, look at me,” Raph murmurs, his other hand coming up to gently take your arm, examining the graze from the kunai. “We gotcha. You’re safe now.”

His gaze locks with yours, and in their depths, you don’t see accusation or disappointment. You see the raw, unfiltered fear he must have felt, the pain his own words inflicted on you earlier. And beneath it all, an unwavering, stubborn love.

A single tear escapes, tracing a path down your cheek. Then another. You try to stop them, to maintain some semblance of the hard shell you’ve cultivated. But it’s useless. The crack widens, and the pent-up emotion floods through. “Raph …”

He carefully pulls you forward, and you don’t resist. You collapse against his broad plastron, your face buried in the crook of his neck. His arms wrap around you, strong and secure, holding you together as the sobs wrack your body.

He smells of rain, sweat, and the faint, familiar scent of the lair.

Of home.

“Shhh, it’s okay. I got you. We all got you.”

He just holds you, murmuring against your hair, the rumble of his voice a soothing vibration near your ear.

Through your tear-blurred vision, you see the others. They’re all here. They came. Despite everything, despite the walls you built, they came.

The mending won’t be easy. The shadows of what you endured, and what you have become, will linger. But as Raph holds you, his brothers stepping closer to form a protective circle, you feel the first, tentative thaw around your frozen heart. The journey back to being yourself will be long—

—but you won’t be walking it alone.

[oviraptoridae]

research & development is ongoing

since using jukebox for sampling material on albedo, i've been increasingly interested in ethically using ai as a tool to incorporate more into my own artwork. recently i've been experimenting with "commoncanvas", a stable diffusion model trained entirely on works in the creative commons. though i do not believe legality and ethics are equivalent, this provides me peace of mind that all of the training data was used consensually through the terms of the creative commons license. here's the paper on it for those who are curious! shoutout to @reachartwork for the inspiration & her informative posts about her process!

part 1: overview

i usually post finished works, so today i want to go more in depth & document the process of experimentation with a new medium. this is going to be a long and image-heavy post, most of it will be under the cut & i'll do my best to keep all the image descriptions concise.

for a point of reference, here is a digital collage i made a few weeks ago for the album i just released (shameless self promo), using photos from wikimedia commons and a render of a 3d model i made in blender:

and here are two images i made with the help of common canvas (though i did a lot of editing and post-processing, more on that process in a future post):

more about my process & findings under the cut, so this post doesn't get too long:

quick note for my setup: i am running this model locally on my own machine (rtx 3060, ubuntu 23.10), using the automatic1111 web ui. if you are on the same version of ubuntu as i am, note that you will probably have to build python 3.10.6 yourself (and be sure to use 'make altinstall' instead of 'make install' and change the line in the webui to use 'python3.10' instead of 'python3'. just mentioning this here because nobody else i could find had this exact problem and i had to figure it out myself)

part 2: initial exploration

all the images i'll be showing here are the raw outputs of the prompts given, with no retouching/regenerating/etc.

so: commoncanvas has 2 different types of models, the "C" and "NC" models, trained on their database of works under the CC Commercial and Non-Commercial licenses, respectively (i think the NC dataset also includes the commercial license works, but i may be wrong). the NC model is larger, but both have their unique strengths:

"a cat on the computer", "C" model

"a cat on the computer", "NC" model

they both take the same amount of time to generate (17 seconds for four 512x512 images on my 3060). if you're really looking for that early ai jank, go for the commercial model. one thing i really like about commoncanvas is that it's really good at reproducing the styles of photography i find most artistically compelling: photos taken by scientists and amateurs. (the following images will be described in the captions to avoid redundancy):

"grainy deep-sea rover photo of an octopus", "NC" model. note the motion blur on the marine snow, greenish lighting and harsh shadows here, like you see in photos taken by those rover submarines that scientists use to take photos of deep sea creatures (and less like ocean photography done for purely artistic reasons, which usually has better lighting and looks cleaner). the anatomy sucks, but the lighting and environment is perfect.

"beige computer on messy desk", "NC" model. the reflection of the flash on the screen, the reddish-brown wood, and the awkward angle and framing are all reminiscent of a photo taken by a forum user with a cheap digital camera in 2007.

so the noncommercial model is great for vernacular and scientific photography. what's the commercial model good for?

"blue dragon sitting on a stone by a river", "C" model. it's good for bad CGI dragons. whenever i request dragons of the commercial model, i either get things that look like photographs of toys/statues, or i get gamecube type CGI, and i love it.

here are two little green freaks i got while trying to refine a prompt to generate my fursona. (i never succeeded, and i forget the exact prompt i used). these look like spore creations and the background looks like a bryce render. i really don't know why there's so much bad cgi in the datasets and why the model loves going for cgi specifically for dragons, but it got me thinking...

"hollow tree in a magical forest, video game screenshot", "C" model

"knights in a dungeon, video game screenshot", "C" model

i love the dreamlike video game environments and strange CGI characters it produces-- it hits that specific era of video games that i grew up with super well.

part 3: use cases

if you've seen any of the visual art i've done to accompany my music projects, you know that i love making digital collages of surreal landscapes:

(this post is getting image heavy so i'll wrap up soon)

i'm interested in using this technology more, not as a replacement for my digital collage art, but along with it as just another tool in my toolbox. and of course...

... this isn't out of lack of skill to imagine or draw scifi/fantasy landscapes.

thank you for reading such a long post! i hope you got something out of this post; i think it's a good look into the "experimentation phase" of getting into a new medium. i'm not going into my post-processing / GIMP stuff in this post because it's already so long, but let me know if you want another post going into that!

good-faith discussion and questions are encouraged but i will disable comments if you don't behave yourselves. be kind to each other and keep it P.L.U.R.

[radioactive-earthshine]

Hii🙈🙈 do you perhaps have any bart and wally comic recs? I want to read more of them both but I can't find any reading orders or a jumping off point besides barts debut. Thank yew in advance💝

Here is a reading guide, I am doing this mostly by memory and looking at my own reading list/notes on their relationship, so I know I am not hitting every single comic they appear in together, but it's still pretty comprehensive imo. They start off VERY rocky, but once Bart becomes Kid Flash things between them are written less grating as they come to an understanding of each other and respect each other more.

Note: this is all pre-Flashpoint and these issues focus on their interactions/feelings between each other, a lot of it pretty caustic. Some issues might have only one panel, others many pages.

The Flash (1987) #189

Bart and Wally West's Interactions Reading Guide

Wally Doesn't Do Sidekicks/Bart's Introduction The Flash (1987) #92-#101 Dead Heat The Flash (1987) #109 Impulse (1995) #10 The Flash (1987) #110 Impulse (1995) #11 The Flash (1987) #111 Impulse (1995) #12 Bart's 15th Birthday/Bartday Impulse (1995) #22 When Bart Said "Goodbye" & Came Back Impulse (1995) #24 Impulse (1995) #26

Bart Helps Wally Out While He's In a Wheelchair (he twisted his ankle) The Flash (1987) #131

The Black Flash Saga The Flash (1997) #139-#141

Wally Freaks Out About Bart Being Bart #1 The Flash (1987) #142 Wally Freaks Out About Bart Being Bart #2 JLA: A World Without Grown-Ups Chain Lightning Saga The Flash (1987) #145-#148

Sins of Youth Young Justice: Sins of Youth #1 Sins of Youth: JLA Jr. #1 Sins of Youth: Kid Flash/Impulse #1 <- most important issue of this arc Young Justice: Sins of Youth #2 Bart Remembers Linda & Endures Walter Saga The Flash (1987) #152-#159

Wally Shows Deep Worry For Bart During Our Worlds At War The Flash: Our Worlds At War Wally Freaks Out About Bart Being Bart (and sort of regrets it) #3 Impulse (1995) #84

"You're going to be a dad?!" The Flash (1987) #198-#199

Wally Has Reservations About Bart Joining the Titans The Flash (1987) #200

Wally Freaks Out About Bart Being Bart (and they all hated that) #4 Teen Titans (2003) #1 Bart & Wally's "Slap-Fight" Teen Titans (2003) #6

"I Stand Corrected About Bart..." The Flash (1987) #208

Wally and Bart Work Together Against SB Prime Infinite Crisis (2005) #4

Wally Turns Thad into a Statue for Killing Bart All Flash (2007) #1 Wally's Thoughts About Bart After his Funeral... Teen Titans (2003) #50 Wally and Dick Toast Bart Nightwing (1996) #141

Wally and Bart Reunite After Bart Comes Back To Life Final Crisis: Legion of Three Worlds #5

Other Random Issues Impulse: Bart Saves The Universe The Flash (1987) #189 The Flash (1987) #214 The Flash (1987) #223-#224 The Flash (1987) #228-#230 The Flash (1987) #235 The Flash (1987) #241 Enjoy and happy reading!

[otdiaftg]

The King's Men - Chapter Sixteen (18)

Day: Friday, April 5th / 6th* Time: 9:48 PM PST

"Is it over?" Neil's backliner mark gasps out. "Oh, thank god." Neil looks over at Alvarez and is floored to see her smiling. She thrusts a gloved hand his way even as her legs wobble and give out. Neil catches her somehow and helps haul her back to her feet. She props herself against him and scrabbles ineffectually at the straps on her helmet. It takes her a few tries before she realizes her fingers are too numb to manage it. She gives up and taps her helmet against his instead. "Is this what dying feels like?" she asks, and calls over her shoulder, "Babe, I think I'm dying. Do I still have legs? I can't look down. I don't think I have legs. I don't think I'll ever walk again." "Uh-huh," Laila says, trotting over to them. "You'd better figure something out, because you're definitely too heavy for me to carry off this court." "Rude." Alvarez gropes blindly for Laila's shoulder until Laila hooks an arm around her waist and pulls her off Neil. Alvarez is still smiling, that half-crazy too-wide look that reminds Neil a little of Lola and a little of Nicky. Neil tries to remember if she'd been hit in the head at any point tonight but the Foxes had kept the violence within excusable limits. It seemed only fair considering what good sports the Trojans are. "That was fantastic," Alvarez says. "I want to do it again. Next year, maybe, when my legs grow back." "Stop being such a baby," Laila says. "Ignore her," Alvarez says to Neil. "She's just sour because she lost nine goals in forty-five minutes. Don't know why, not like it's a new personal record or—ohhh, it is. Ouch, that's gotta sting a bit. So much for being first-draft." "Bitch," Laila says without any heat. "That's what you get for calling me fat," Alvarez says. She looks back at Neil and gestures past him. "Oops, looks like the party started without you. Go, go, go!" Neil looks over his shoulder to see the Foxes celebrating on the half- court line. He starts to turn toward them, then looks back at Alvarez and Laila. "Your team is terrifying," he says, inspired by Alvarez's enthusiasm to be honest. "We'll be cheering for you next week." Alvarez flashes a thumbs-up, so Neil jogs to meet his team. He hears Alvarez ask how anyone can still run after "the world's longest game", but he figures it is directed at Laila and doesn't slow to hear the answer.

Art used with permission by llstarcasterll. Thank you @llstarcasterll!

*Due to the Leap Year, I have opted to highlight the day rather than the date to keep the events in occurrence to the 2007 year. I will continue to mark both days accordingly.

[justwhisperingfantasies]

The One That Got Away -5-

Characters: Reader. - Jensen Ackles - Eric Kripke - Karl Urban - Antony Starr - Jack Quaid - Erin Moriarty - Karen Fukuhara - Chace Crawford - Tomer Capone - Seth Rogen -Lily [o.c] - Brett [o.c] - Frank [o.c] Summary: Jensen comes to Toronto to read over his contract with his lawyer and tries to make you realize your marrying the wrong guy. Finding out how far the limits can be pushed before something breaks. Warnings: Language. Drinking. Angst. The Boys Spoilers. My Master List Series Master List Tag List Hope y'all enjoy 🩵

October 2007.

“Ya know Ackles.” Jensen turned his head towards Jared but couldn’t take his eyes off her. “You won’t have to say anything if you keep staring like that.” He teased.

“Can’t help it.”

Jared shook his head. “So, what are you gonna say?”

“I really don’t know yet, but it’s happening this time.”

Her eyes went wide as they met Jensen’s, mouthing the words “help me.” she nodded to his uncle Larry. He was probably talking her ear off about something she didn’t care about.

He shook his head slowly as his lips twisted into a smirk.

She peered at him with her lips pressed tight. But then, her expression softened, and a smile broke out as Uncle Larry glanced back at her. The moment he turned away, though, her face went back to threatening, Jensen couldn’t help but laugh.

Pleading she stuck out her bottom lip.

‘Damnit you win ‘he thought

 “y/n!” Jensen yelled across the yard. She smiled and winked at him. “Come here!” She said a few words to Larry and began making her way over. As she got closer, Jensen popped the cap off a beer and passed it to her.

“Thank you. I owe you one.” She took a drink.

“I’m pretty sure you still owe me from the last cook out.”

“Sorry Ross, they expire if not used in 30 days.”

“Um, who made those rules?”

“Me.” She flashed him a smile.

“Hey if we are still going to the lake, let’s go.” Jared exclaimed looking at his watch “I wanna get a good spot.”

“No! They need to start Hoyte. I’m telling you Jensen he is going to be big.”  She argued as they spread out the blanket

“I don’t know….” He playfully taunted.

“Change the subject before she hits you Ackles.” Jared laughed. grabbing 2 of the blankets from the pile.

“She won’t hit me, she loves me.” He smirked at her.

“Keep bad mouthing my boys and we’ll just see about that.” She threatened him, making him laugh. “And you!” She pointed at Jared. “I can’t believe you Padalecki, bailing on your friends for a girl. Whatever happened to bros before hoes?”

The boys laughed. “Well, bro. Sex is always an exception to that rule.” Jensen explained making her roll her eyes.

“Come on Jared. It’s getting dark, it’s going to start soon.” Sandra whined

“I’ll see you two later.” Jared waggled his brows and walked away.

Jensen’s phone dinged as he sat down next to y/n on the blanket.

Jared: DO NOT CHICKEN OUT THIS TIME ACKLES!!

 A light chuckle escaped his lips after reading the message.

“What’s so funny over there?” She asked him

He cleared his throat, “Uh, nothin’ Jared being stupid.”

He took a deep breath stealing a whiff of her sweet perfume as she leaned in front of him, her arms stretching for the cooler. Her brows furrowed looking back at him.

“What? You smell good.” he confessed.

She chuckled. “Well, thanks.” She said sitting back up beside him.

“Look, I gotta tell you something.”

She stopped mid drink. “What did you do?”

“Why do you just assume I did something?”

“Because you’re you” she giggled.

“that’s just rude.”

“So, what’s up, Ross?”

“I um.” Her eyes flicked to the screen as the movie started to play, he needed to get this out. “Fuck it. “He turned his hat backwards and leaned in. He felt her breath hitch as his lips pressed against hers.

“Jensen are you sure about this?”

“Sweetheart, I’ve never been this sure about anything in my life.”

She smiled and slid her hand onto the back of his neck, pulling his lips back to hers.

He would always remember that night, the night when she finally became his.

Jensen

He blinked back the tears as his dream from his memories faded. He reached for his phone; through squinted eyes he looked at the time 7:43am. He knew she would be awake, his finger loomed over her name. ‘Fuck it’

It rang twice. “Hey, its y/n leave me a message and I’ll get back to ya.”

“Motherfucker.”

He called again.

“Jensen, Everything ok?”

He cleared his throat surprised she answered “Uh, yea.”

“You need something?”

“Do you remember the night we got together?”

“Jensen…”

“Hear me out.” he insisted

She sighed. “Ok...”

“Do you remember what movie was playing?”

“Did you really call me this early to ask me what movie we watched the night we got together?”

“Don’t act like you weren’t already awake.”

She chuckled. “Do you remember the movie?”

“I do.”

“I don’t believe you.”

He chuckled. “It was PS I love you.”

“I know. What about it?”

“I just wanted to see if you remembered.”

“I also remember your corny ass writing PS I love you on every note you left me in your trailer for a month after that.”

“Um, not corny, romantic”

She laughed.

“Ok maybe a little corny, but it was cute right?”

“Yes, Jensen it was cute.”

He stayed silent.

“Are you done reminiscing?” she asked.

“For now. So, what are you doing?”

“I had to take care of a few things. Lily is picking you up today, don’t worry I texted her your Starbucks order.”

“You’re an angel.”

“I don’t know about all that,

“I do.”

He heard a tapping sound

She sighed “Yes, I’ll be right there, calm down.”

“Well, tell Brett I said hi.”

“Probably not the best thing right now.”

“You guys still fighting?”

“Yea.”

“I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have called.”

“You’re fine.”

“Do you want to get this done or do you want to talk to your boyfriend all day?” he heard Brett sneer.

“Ross, I gotta go. I’ll see you in a little bit k?”

“Ok.” He sighed as he hung up the phone.

Jensen.

“Aw, thanks Lil.” He took the coffee cup from her hand after settling in her passenger seat.

“Well, babes said if I didn’t want to deal with grumpy Jensen, I had to keep pumping you full of caffeine.” She remarked pulling out of the hotel parking lot.

He laughed. “She ain’t wrong.”

Lily tapped her fingers on the steering wheel as she drove.

“So, how much shit did I stir up last night?” he asked

“No comment.” She said pulling into the complex.

“Oh, come on.”

“I’m not going into details, but it’s pretty bad.”

“Like I should stop with my shit?”

“Maybe just take a break today.” She said honking the horn twice 

He sighed and looked out the window. Jack and Karl came out separate doors.

“Where’s y/n?” Jack asked, getting in the backseat.

“She had some stuff to take care of. She’s meeting us at the studio.” Lily explained.

“Off tasting cakes?” Jensen’s stomach twisted at Karl’s question.

“Eh, something like that” Lily pulled out onto the road and started tapping her fingers again.

“What’s got you so nervous?” Jensen asked her.

“Uh, what makes you think I’m nervous?”

He looked down at her fingers and raised his eyebrows.

“Because I’m enjoying the song?”

Her phone started to ring, Lily’s hand rushed to the center console, grabbing it. Making the car swerve a little.

“Hey.” She answered, once it was to her ear.

“How’s that going?”

“Oh, I can imagine.”

“No. For real though that’s adorable.”

“I just gotta pick up Chace and then I’ll be on my way.”

“Ok, I’ll see you when you get there.”

“And you better fucking get there.” Lily snarled.

All 3 pairs of the boy’s eyes snapped to her.

“Bye babe.”

“What the fuck was that about?” Karl asked.

“Well, she’s going to be late. But promised she would be there.”

“Ya think he’s doing this on purpose?” Jack asked.

“Do you?” Jensen asked

“Well a, it’s the reading for Soldier Boy. He’s been jealous since Eric asked her to help with him. And b, Jensen.” Jack explained.

Lily huffed. “Yes, I think it’s on purpose.”

Jensen

The more the chairs filled, the more worried he got. He raised his wrist, looking at his watch.

“She will be here.” Karl whispered.

“Cutting it close, y/n”

He looked up when he heard her name, feeling a pang in his chest at the sight. Her eyes were slightly pink and puffy with small bags underneath.  She nodded at the comment, tilting her head down. Trying to hide her stress under the bill of her baseball cap.

“Alright. Looks like everyone is here.” Eric announced, “We wanted to do this table read to get a feel for chemistry and character interactions before we make everything official.”

She finally looked up, giving him a fake smile. He flashed one back. She looked over at Eric as he started again.

“Everyone this is Jensen he will hopefully be signing for the soldier boy role later today.”

“Just depends how many helicopters are in my contract Kirpke.” Jensen teased.

Everyone laughed except for the one person he was attempting to amuse. She shook her head and gave him a half smile; he took the small victory.

“Does anyone want a water, snacks, or coffee before we start?” Lily asked.

“Who made the coffee?” Antony asked, looking over to y/n

Lily huffed. “I made it exactly like she does.”

“Oh, yea I’ll take one then.” Antony laughed.

“So, any questions, concerns, comments, before we start?” Eric asked. Everyone shook their heads. “Alright. Let’s go.”

Reader

You glanced at Jensen, a smile spread across his face as his eyebrows jumped, making you chuckle.

Your eyes fell to the script as Eric cleared his throat.

Eric: “The scene cuts to a motel where Butcher, Hughie and Soldier Boy are. Soldier Boy empties a bag of food from Vought-a-Burger as Hughie scratches his ear and sees blood on his finger.”

Jensen glanced over at her; she was looking at her page smiling.

Jack: “What the hell?” he whispered. Looking at the blood on his finger.

Jensen: “Where’s the Chop Socky Oriental Sauce?”

He talked in a voice lower than his own, but not quite Dean’s.

Jack: “They … don’t have that… anymore.”

Jensen: “Why the fuck not?” 

Jack: “Uh, many… many good reasons.”

Jensen: “Did you get the other shit?”

Eric: Butcher takes out a bottle of whiskey and a bottle of pills.

Karl: “Here you go, guv.”

Jensen: “Man, I miss Bennies. It’s how we won D-Day, you know. We were wired to the fucking gills.”

Karl: “Listen, let’s have a little chat about this team-up, yeah?”

Jensen: “Yeah, what the hell do I need a team for? The last one handed me to the Reds.”

Karl: “And we got you out of that little pickle. We wrapped up Crimson Countess and delivered her like a fucking Christmas turkey, and I even sorted Gunpowder for you.”

Jensen: “Why am I supposed to be impressed with that?   That’s like killing Emmanuel Lewis.”

Light laughter filled the room.

Karl: Well, he grew up a bit since you last saw him. Anyway. You want payback on Payback don’t cha? Well, it just so happens we are experts at exterminating shitbag supes. You see it’s a whole different world out there now, son. We’re here to help you find your way.

Jensen: “Well I can find them on my own.”

Jack: “Are you sure? I mean, do you know what GPS is? Or- or Bluetooth. Or… I mean…. The internet?”

Jensen: “You made those words up?”

Jack: “No… no, no. Those are real words. Um… and you need those to find them. Alright? You need us.”

Karl: “The kids right. And all we ask in return is that you add one more name to the list.

Jensen: “Who?”

Karl: “A right cunt named Homelander.”

Jensen: “I’ve seen pictures. Who is he?”

Karl: “He’s the new you.”

Jensen: “No one’s the new me, pal….  But why him?”

Karl: “Let’s just say you’re not the only one that wants payback.”

Jensen: “Hm.” He chuckled. “Alright you help me find the rest of my team, and I’ll help you will this Homelander.”

“Well, babes, what did you think?”  Karl shouted across the room.

“Eh he’ll do.” You winked at Jensen.

Jensen

 Her phone started ringing. She whispered to eric who nodded his head. She stood up, bringing the phone to her ear and walked into the hallway.

Eric stood up “Alright, grab some water, go to the rest room, grab a snack.  y/n and I will be right back.” He followed her.

Jensen looked at Lily and raised his hands in a questioning way, as his eyebrows arched.

She shrugged.

“Wonder what that’s all about.” Karl stated.

“I think I know.” Jensen confessed.

“Alright then, out with it.”

“Last night after we dropped everyone off. y/n and I got into a tiff, and I might have pushed a little too hard.”

“Ah well, a gem can’t be polished without a little friction, mate.”

“Yea, but what happens if there’s too much friction?” Jensen retorted.

Eric and y/n finally came back in, Eric whispered something to her as they sat back down. She nodded.

“Alright, let’s run a couple more.” Eric announced.

Jensen.

“So Frank, what do you think?” Jensen asked as he finished reading the contract

“I think it’s a damn good contract, Jensen.” Frank confirmed turning to the signature page. “I think Eric really took care of you.”

Jensen looked up and winked at her, knowing who really took care of him.

“If I were you, I’d sign before they change their minds.” Frank laughed.

“If you say so.” Jensen leaned on the table and signed his name below the printed version. “Alright. I am officially your Soldier Boy.” He affirmed as he laid the pin down. He watched a conspiratorial smile cross her face as everyone clapped.

“Looking forward to working with you.” Seth said as he stuck out his hand.

“Likewise.” Jensen said, shaking his hand. The other writers and crew followed suit and headed out the door after he went through the same routine with them.

“Jensen!” Eric exclaimed

“Eric!” Jensen matched his tone, shaking his hand.

“This is gonna be fun.” Eric said with a waggle of his brows.

Jensen chuckled. “Yea it is.”

“Frank.” Eric turned to him. “Thanks for coming out.”

“Not a problem.”

“So how many choppers did you end up with?” she smiled.

“Like you don’t know.” Jensen replied.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about?”

He chuckled. “Right.”

“Is that y/n?” Frank asked playfully, elbowing Jensen.

She turned to him with a smile. “Hello Frank.”

“Little lady, I haven’t seen you in a coon’s age.”

“How’s the wife?” she asked.

“Sheila is good. Gonna be mad she missed you.”

“You should have brought her; I know all the good shops in town.”

Her smile faded as Brett walked up and rested his hand on her shoulder.

“You ready, dear?” Brett insisted.

“Yep,” Her voice was cold, he walked back over to the door.

“Frank, it was lovely to see you again.”

“You too darlin’. Next time you’re in Austin, you have to come and see what Sheila has done with the house.

She smiled. “I’ll call you.”

She tipped her hat to Jensen. “See you at Owen’s?”

Jensen nodded.

She started toward the door. “I’m comin. Hold your horses.”

“Well, you’re the one that wants to get this all done today.” Brett barked.

“Yep, the sooner the better.” She countered.

Reader.

“So did you get everything taken care of today?” Lily asked sitting on your bed scrolling on her phone

“I did.” You looped the earring through your earlobe. “Lost a shit ton of money on deposits though.”

“Trust me. It will all be worth it.” She beamed.

You looked at yourself in the mirror. “Do you think this dress is trying too hard?”

“No. I think you look amazing. He’s not gonna know what hit him.”

“Oi!” Karl yelled from the living room.

“Bedroom!” You yelled back at him.

Karl let a whistle out as he walked through your bedroom door.

“Holy shit.” Jack remarked.

“Is it too much?”

“N... No. you look amazing.” Jack choked out making you chuckle.

“Where’s Brett?” Karl asked.

You shrugged with a smirk. “I don’t know.”

His brows furrowed as he looked around. His face lit up when he realized none of Brett’s stuff was there. “You kicked him to the fucking curb, didn’t ya?” you smiled. “Ah. Fucking finally!!”

You laughed. “Alright let’s go.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Your heart raced in your ears walking down the hallway to Jensen’s hotel room. You stopped in front of his door and took a deep breath. The anxious energy made your hand heavy, knocking a little louder than necessary. You waited, but there was no answer.

“Jensen. We are going to be late!!” You yelled, knocking again.  

You waited, still no answer.

You pulled out your phone and tapped the green icon next to his name.

“Hey It’s Jensen. Leave a message.”

“Hey, where are you? And why is your phone going straight to voicemail? Give me a call back. K?”

You hit the red icon and scrolled to Jared’s contact.

“Hey babe, what’s up?” He answered.

“When’s the last time you talked to Ross?”

“A few hours ago. Why?”

“Well, I’m here to pick him up for this dinner. He ain’t answering the door and his phone is going straight to voicemail.”

“Maybe he took an Uber there. When I talked to him, he said he was getting ready.”

You started walking toward the elevator. “I guess he could of.”

“I bet he’s already there. Let me know when you find him.”

“Will do.” You hung up the phone.

You stopped at the reception desk once you made it to the lobby. “Hey, do you know if the guy in 514 called a cab or Uber?”

“He did, right after he checked out.”

“Thanks.” You said, turning to walk out the door.

You pulled out your phone again.

“Hey It’s Jensen. Leave a message.”

You sighed and hung up.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Kripke party.” You told the hostess as you approached her stand.

“Right this way.”

You followed her, your eyes searched for him once you spotted everyone, but he wasn’t there.

“Here you are ma’am.”

“Thank you.”

“Hey babe, Where’s Jensen?” Karl asked.

Jensen.

“Hey, what the fuck is going on? y/n’s calling me asking where you are. Your phone has been going straight to voice mail. And you haven’t replied to any of our text mess.”

“Jared.” Jensen cut him off. “Can you come pick me up at the airport?”

Jared sighed. “Yea. I’ll be right there.”

The bartender approached him as he sat down “Macallan neat please.”

The bartender poured his drink and started to turn back around.

“Leave the bottle.” Jensen handed him his card. He nodded and sat the bottle back on the bar.

Jensen pulled out his phone.  3 missed calls and 2 text from her. 2 missed calls and 4 texts from Jared.

With a hefty sigh he put his voicemail code in and raised the phone to his ear.

“First new message” the robotic voice said

“Hey, why is your phone going straight to voicemail? Give me a call back. K?”

“Thanks.” Jensen said as the bartender handed his card back.

“Second new message”

“Hey buddy, call me when you get this.” Jared said.

“Third new message.”

There was ruffling, he wasn’t sure if she pocket dialed him or if she thought she hung up. “No, straight to voicemail again.” He could barely make out what she was saying. “Well can you really blame him?” There was another voice, too far away from the phone to hear their words. “I probably fucked it up.” ….. “Shit Lil how do I delete this.”

“End of messages.”

He saved the message and tapped the red icon. Raising his glass to his lips with his free hand he opened her text conversation.

Y/n: Where are you? Call me.

Y/n: Look I know I’ve been stupid, but can you just call me please.

“Hey man.” Jared sat down next to him. “You wanna tell me what’s going on?”

“Can I get ya anything?” The bartender asked

“Corona bottle please.”

The bartender reached into the cooler, popped the cap off, and sat it in front of him.

“Thank you.” Jared said handing him some cash. He turned back to Jensen. “So?”

“So, I came back to Texas.”

“You don’t say.” Jared smarted off.

“I made things between her and Brett really bad. I guess they have been fighting since last night. She looked so stressed out today and I could tell she had been crying. So, I took the problem away.” He took another drink of his scotch.

“Jensen, you’re not a problem.”

“I was for them.” He finished his drink and started filling it again.

“So, you just gave up?”

“What else was I supposed to do J.p, kidnap her?”

Jared swallowed and rubbed his chin. “Not a bad idea,”

Jensen gave him a blank stare.

“I’m just fuckin with you.” Jared chuckled, pulling out his ringing phone.

“Hey y/n”

“Yea, I got him.”

“Ok? Bye.” Jared laid his phone on the bar.

“How pissed is she?”

“She didn’t sound mad at all. Just worried.”

“That’s worse.”

“So, Ackles, you’re really giving up?”

“Yep.” He shot the rest of his drink. “Maybe this is just my karma.”

“What do you mean?”

Jensen filled his glass again. “She had to watch me marry someone else. Maybe it’s my turn.”

“Against your will.”

“But she didn’t know that.”

“I get what you’re saying, but.” His phone rang again.

“Yes?” Jared answered.

“We are sitting at a bar.”

“I don’t know.”

Jared chuckled. “I really don’t babe. Why don’t you ask him yourself?”

“You sure?”

“Ok.”

“Bye.”

Jensen sighed as Jared sat his phone on the bar.

Jensen.

“Good morning sunshine.” Jared said as Jensen walked into the kitchen.

“Coffee?”

“Just brewed.”

“Do you have to talk so loud?”

Jared chuckled. “You hungry?”

“No,”

Jared’s phone dinged. He smiled as he looked at the screen.

“Something funny?” Jensen questioned him

“Just Gen telling me how boring her meeting is.” He typed a message and sat his phone back down, shutting the screen off. “So, what are your plans today?”

“I should probably go check on the brewery.” Jensen took a sip of coffee “Thought about going out to White Rock Lake and putting a pole in.”

“Seriously?”

“A man can’t go fishing?”

“A man can. I just haven’t heard you mention that lake in a very long time.”

Jensen shrugged. “What are you doing today?”

“Um.” Jared picked up his phone. “I got a couple zoom meeting today should be done in 2 and a half-ish hours. If you want company.”

“Sure.”

“Our usual spot?” Jared asked.

“Yes sir.”

Jared was typing on his phone again.

“Tell Gen I said hi.”

“Will do.” He said with a grin.

Jensen

He watched the waves dance in the sunlight, the lake hasn’t changed at all since the last time he had been out here.

As his phone started to ring, he debated on letting it go to voicemail, trying to savor the peaceful moment.

The phone went silent.

“Hey Ross, you know that thing in your back pocket works better if you actually answer it.”

His heart dropped as he turned around.

Reader.

“Hi Jensen.”

“Wh, what are you doing here?” He stammered.

“Well, my best friend blew me off and ran back to Texas.”

“I felt like I was doing more harm than good. You looked so stressed out yesterday.”

“Oh, I was but not because of you. Well actually kind of.” you explained, walking to him.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” You stepped closer. “You see if you would have stuck around just a little bit longer…” you took another step. “I would have told you that after the fight you and I”

“Wasn’t a fight.”

“The heated discussion you and I had.”

“Better.” He smirked.

“Can I continue?” you teased.

“I’m all ears.”

“After that I went home and go into a fight with Brett.” He opened his mouth, you raised your hand and his mouth shut. “He asked me if I love him. I said no.” Jensen closed the distance between you. “And then he asked me if I love you.”

“And you said?”

“Would my ass really be here right now if the answer was, no?”

He laughed.

“All those errands I had yesterday, that was us canceling everything. And I returned what I could. I wanted it to be officially over before I told you.” you looked up into those green eyes.

“So, you just wanna be friends?” He joked.

You chuckled. “Shut up Ross.” You grabbed the back of his head and pulled his lips to yours.

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[soundlesswind]

Mononoke: Karakasa Review

Mononoke - Phantom in the Rain

Now that it's officially out globally, I can finally offer some thoughts and reflections on the long-awaited continuation of the cult-beloved Ayakashi/Mononoke series. My main tagline for this review can be summarized thusly:

I liked it...but it could have been better.

(~ not spoiler free, read at your own discretion ~)

Karakasa: Visually, it's a bang---structurally, it's a bomb. That about sums up how I feel about the movie overall. It's vibrant, beautiful, and full of intricate patterning and details, and is in a way: both a step up and a step down from the original.

...But what do I mean by that really? Well, I think we need to first highlight what makes Karakasa and Mononoke rather different.

Ayakashi/Mononoke has a much slower pacing, with slightly more muted, and washed-aesthetic tone despite its colourful designs. It shifts from being more colourful or more sombre depending on the type of scene it wants to depict. But even at its most saturated, it never gets quite as vibrant in contrast compared to Karakasa. ...However, you could say that may be in part due to the sheer difference in animation techniques developed over the course of nearly a decade between the two (2006/2007 vs 2024).

That isn't to say Karakasa doesn't have moments of dark imagery, but that even at its darkest, it remains distinctly vibrant and high-in-contrast. You could argue for it as a conscientious choice...but personally, at its root: Mononoke is a horror-ghost story; and the gritter, muddled palettes rather add to that charm.

(2007 Mononoke - Noppera-bou, and Nue)

(2024 Karakasa)

To match its mood, Mononoke also has a much slower cadence and story tempo, despite any singular arc being overall shorter than Karakasa. That cadence adds to another difference: which is spookiness. I find Mononoke to be far spookier and more effortlessly imposing than Karakasa. There's a bit of tension and suspense in the way it's presented: both visually and vocally* (a point I'll bring up later). Mononoke is sometimes boldly laid out in seemingly disjointed flashes, but still somehow ends up cohesive and immersive with its themes and motifs; feeding you just enough information to wet your appetite as to where and just how far it wants to take you. And this is of course, done in parts over the span of 2-3 episodes.

Karakasa on the other hand, has a pacing that feels like a marathon. It seems almost lightning fast, despite the first half of the movie being entirely sociopolitical intrigue without much in the way of anything overtly youkai-esque. In fact, our Medicine Seller doesn't even step foot into the Ooku (women's court) until around 40 minutes in...which is nearly half the movie! ...But naturally, since it's a movie, it will be movie-formatted. Everything is going to run as if it were one singular episode long. --- Still, what does that mean for the pacing?

If you don't know what "tea house tales" "is.....it's basically a format of short stories told over several sessions. It's one of the ways people in the historic East used to tell stories. They'd gather around somewhere, drink tea, eat snacks and share a bit of light entertainment. In the same way the episodic nature of Mononoke is somewhat reminiscent of that. Each part feeds you a bit of information, a bit of mystery, a bit of suspense, and a bit of action. It keeps you sufficiently entertained one way or another without stringing you on far too long before any sort of climactic reveal. In this way, Mononoke feels more balanced and evened out than Karakasa. But even the format aside, I found Karakasa a lot less clear and concise with what it's trying to portray. There were parts of the movie I had to re-watch a few times or sit down and think about afterwards just to fully understand what I think it was alluding to, which wasn't an issue with Mononoke whatsoever. The plot, both visually and thematically was always clear as day for the original series, where as Karakasa sort of muddles on and off between mystery and court drama over the course of an hour and a half.

Personally...I think one of the detriments to Karakasa is the sheer size of its cast. There were simply way too many characters (27+), and some of them even have overlapping roles. There were also quite a few without clear rhyme or reason. For example, we get introduced to Tenshi, Mizoragi and the moon twins, and an assortment of other characters who don't really have much of a presence in the movie (other than to to be positional seat warmers) and are shown for a collective total of a few minutes. Karakasa IS a trilogy however, so it's possible that their roles may be elaborated in future movies, but in regards to the current film, they feel like a distraction. I guess they're going grand and all out, but the benefits of a smaller cast is that you get more intimate with each character and their already very limited screentime. It just wasn't possible for me to feel any intimacy or investment into the large cast of Karakasa---Asa and Kame included.

Comparatively; I always felt truly, fully immersed in all the story arcs of the original Ayakashi/Mononoke. I cared about the characters, or was so invested in their sorrowful tale. But I didn't particularly feel that way about Karakasa because whatever message it was trying to convey kind of got lost in-between all the court drama...which, I'm not sure some viewers may even understand or empathize with unless they already have some knowledge of what women in the imperial harem go through or how it functions. (Speaking of which, Asa practically speed ran the exposition towards the end regarding Kitagawa and her own motives.) Just to name a few: there's the rank struggles of Asa and Kame versus the leaders of the Ooku; the political positions of Fuki, Botan and the other consorts, the political household ties of Saburomaru, the grip of Mizoragi's strange cult, and the (lack of) political power that Tenshi (the emperor) holds versus the Shogunate in the Capital (---I'm not entirely sure what timeline we're in right now, but the fact that there IS a Shogunate implies a lot.)

...Anyway, you can see why there are too many distractions in this movie for me to fully feel immersed in whatever it's trying to tell. It's supposed to be a movie of women's suffering (under the weight of men and the social sphere I suppose), but most of the time it felt more like I was just simply suffering watching women cat fight each other until they quickly got picked off by the Karakasa mononoke.

Speaking of the titular "Karakasa", though... it certainly was an interesting choice of youkai. I wonder if it was because traditionally, karakasa aren't violent youkai, they're merely scary tricksters; and it wasn't as if Kitagawa was really out for revenge (though she did pick off a few people).....actually, now that I've written it out that way, Kitagawa's motives are a little unclear. Or maybe it didn't matter anymore as karakasa grew to the point it became uncontrollable. Either way, I think if they had refocused the movie on Kitagawa and actually visually show the parallels between her, her "friend" and Asa/Kame...instead of giving us a verbal speedrun exposition dump towards the end...I might have felt a little more sympathy (...or just simply anything worth feeling towards the story). But alas.

It certainly didn't help that I was a little unsatisfied with some of the voice cast. For the most part, I was okay with the side cast (particularly the males, since the females hardly had lines); but felt it was a waste that Tsuda Kenjiro (Mizoragi) also hardly had any lines (...though I have a feeling he'll play a bigger role in the next movie). He was actually even one of my 3 ideal choices for Kusuriuri's recast (next to Ishida Akira and Toriumi Kousuke). I've said it before and I'll say it again, I love Kamiya Hiroshi, he is one of my favourites...but I think his role as Kusuriuri was a bit lackluster since his vocal range is medium-high and therefore does not go deep or husky enough to carry the same spook factor that Sakurai Takahiro's voice has. Karakasa also lacks the unique staccato often used in the original Mononoke which gave it an overall interesting sound and pace. I loved the odd vocal nuances and pauses in the previous work and was very sad that it's more or less nonexistent in Karakasa.

My second complaint would be with Asa and Kame's cast, which I felt might've benefited more from actresses with more interesting inflections. Kurosawa Tomoyo is an okay actress. She gets the job done but generally does better on long-running series since she takes a long time to fully have a grip on her role. Honestly, she was on auto-pilot and was quite boring throughout Karakasa. Aoi Yuuki on the other hand has a lot of vocal range, but generally suffers from inconsistency and just sounding like nails on a chalkboard. (I won't even mince it; my housemate walked in on me watching Karakasa on the telly and literally flinched at her voice because it severely hurt her eardrums---my condolences).

Generally speaking, I do prefer older seiyuus, they just have qualities I enjoy more, but I do also think the movie would've benefitted more from either a liveaction casting or a Showa casting. Most of the characters (in both Mononoke and Karakasa) kind of...oddly use modern speech instead of feudal Japanese (minus Utayama), and given that the Ooku IS a court drama, doesn't use court language or any regional dialects whatsoever (granted I'm not even sure if this is Kyoto, Edo, or wherever). Awashima and Mugitani do use formal language, but only Utayama uses slightly older diction. With the exception of a few notable names, most of the cast for Karakasa are from a generation of newer/younger voice actors, whereas Mononoke consists of an older one. You probably won't care unless you're a seiyuu buff, but there is actually a clear vocal distinction between those of different acting generations. For example: Sakurai, Kamiya, Ishida, Tsuda, Ogata, Hayashibara, etc...all have particular qualities to their voice that give it a layer of interest (ie. whispiness, huskiness, nasalness, etc). I don't know if it's caused by the difference in learned language or some other factor, but newer generations of voice actors tend to have more clear-toned voices with more modern inflections. Kurosawa and Aoi both have notably modern inflections when they act. You could say it's a battle of old versus new if we're going by story theme...but in which case, the rest of the cast could've been of an older generation to portray that. (But well, I'm glad they chose an older actress for Utayama, at least). The few exceptions to this are a small handful of modern actresses that are so astoundingly skilled they break that barrier. I kind of wished they had casted Hanazawa for Kame instead but she's already Kitagawa...but in which case, toss Sawashiro Miyuki in that role, I think she would've been a bit spookier. Hanazawa as Kame might've made her more endearing to me, but maybe they were going for the double-double: irritable voice and character combo, since Kame wasn't particularly written to be likeable. --- Kame does somewhat feel like a second generation Kayo (MAO), but I think MAO was still more serviceable to my ears. Anyway. I don't think I should hold up this review post any longer with my derailed rant on voice acting. It is what it is, and at the very least: we found out some lore bombshell that there are possibly at most 64 medicine sellers, and that Sakurai (Ri) Kusuriuri and Kamiya (Kon) Kusuriuri are different characters altogether (---a lot of fans rejoiced about that), making the possibility of two or more existing at one time. Wouldn't that be exciting to see?

Moving on to the music. In contrast to the trailers, the soundtrack in the movie sometimes feel like background white noise. It almost seems like a trend with newer anime, but nowadays, I hardly hear the tracks compared to older shows. Well, in Karakasa in particular, the movie is moving at such a jilted pace: most of the sounds you will hear is either dialogue or the occasional clinks and clangs. They don't really blast OSTs like they used to (...unlike Hollywood movies where I hear too much BGM). --- But following the odd quirks of Ayakashi: some of the vocal themes for Karakasa still are that weird mash of modern and traditional sounds with the occasional rapping. Particularly during the fight scene, there were some hardcore bass rap on cue. I'm not sure if I like or dislike it, but it is different. My favourite track is the Okami-esque flute theme used during the Birth Celebration Ceremony towards the end. But whether it's Mononoke or Karakasa, what stands out in both is not the score, but the sound effects which have always been the distinctive noise of the series.

The teased title for the next installment is "Ashes of Rage". I wonder what that could mean? We're left on a bunch of cliffhangers, such as why did Kusuriuri smile while looking at the clouds, what's the deal with the seal in the well, and what was Mizoragi doing in the cellar pouring water over what looked like an enclosed basin? Moreover, why on earth did they lore drop so much on the background of the medicine sellers...not in the movie but during the side interviews! The fact that they have a home base, or that the Shingi (alters) are different people... So do you mean to tell me, I still can dream of an Ishida Akira Kusuriuri!? There are at most 8 trigram Taima swords, and 2 of which are Sakurai and Kamiya's. Does that mean there's still room for another 6 Kusuriuris? That's so fruity!

If you made it this far, thank you for reading. I also I hope you watched the movie before perusing this given that it's so spoiler heavy. While it does seem like I had a lot of complaints, make no mistake: the movie was gorgeous. It was made with painstaking visual efforts and intricate architecture. Every stroke and splash is a work of art, making it one of the most visually interesting movie in a long time.

While it doesn't replace the old Mononoke in my heart, the Karakasa trilogy is a nice addition; something different and its own thing. A lot more action and a lot more abstract if you dig that sort of presentation.

Given that the trilogy isn't over, I have no doubt the rest of it will continue on with Kamiya's (Kon) Kusuriuri...but I do hope the series continues to keep receiving love so I can eventually have a whole Sentai Kamen rider group of Kusuriuris.

Until next time...~!

[insomniaccorner]

Duck Vs The Batcomputer A crackfic one-shot set in the Neglected!Villain!Reader Story

It started with a simple idea.

A bit of revenge. A little payback. Maybe just some psychological warfare in the form of nostalgic chaos.

Duck sat cross-legged in the middle of their lair, tapping away at their laptop with a devilish grin.

“Let’s see how smart you really are, Timmy.”

They didn’t disable the Batcomputer. That would’ve been too easy. Too boring.

Instead, they installed Duck Life—yes, the old Flash game from 2007—as the Batcomputer’s default launch screen. Full screen. No exit button. Unskippable intro. Quacks included.

But that wasn’t all.

They rewrote the entire operating system to respond only to bird noises. Specifically duck noises. Type too fast? QUACK. Try to open a file? QUACK QUACK. Incorrect password? ANGRY DUCK SCREECH.

The system voice? A synthetic AI version of Duck themselves. Smug, chirpy, and reading every file name out loud in the most dramatic voice possible.

“Accessing: Bruce’s Super Sad Backup Plan For If Everyone Dies – FINAL_FINAL2.docx...”

They uploaded it at 3:17 a.m. Gotham time.

Three Hours Later – The Batcave

Tim stared at the Batcomputer.

“You guys… the computer’s… quacking at me.”

Jason snorted from across the room. “It’s what now?”

QUAAAACK The screen vibrated with the intensity of the honk as Duck Life’s pixelated yellow protagonist waddled onscreen.

“No no no no,” Tim muttered, frantically hitting keys. “This isn’t—WHY IS THERE NO ESCAPE BUTTON?!”

Dick walked in with a cup of coffee. “What the hell are you yelling abou—oh my god, is that Duck Life?”

Bruce arrived next, looking entirely unamused.

“Report.”

Tim, flustered, pointed at the screen like it had personally betrayed him. “They hacked the Batcomputer. I—They replaced the entire OS with a duck-themed—thing. It honks at me when I try to open files! I CAN’T OPEN THE CASE FILES, BRUCE. EVERYTHING IS QUACKING.”

QUACK QUACK

“Attempting to override: No Dick You May Not Name This Operation ‘Quack Attack’.”

Jason was now on the floor. Cry-laughing.

“Okay but hear me out, that’s genius. I’m proud of them.”

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Reboot it.”

“I TRIED. It just reboots into more ducks.”

“Hello, Timothy. Would you like to train your duck in running, swimming, or intense emotional repression?”

Tim slammed his forehead into the keyboard.

Meanwhile…

Duck sipped a smoothie from their rooftop hideout, watching the security feed of the Batcave implode into chaos.

“Best $12 I’ve ever spent on retro flash game coding,” they muttered with pride.

A pause. Then:

“…I should install Duck Life 2 next.”

[zahri-melitor]

Okay because I am setting my expectations as low as possible in the hopes I get to be pleasantly surprised, here is the history of Black Canary as a solo title at DC:

Black Canary 1991: 4 issue miniseries. Probably best described as 'mediocre'. Dinah discovers Ollie's being an unemployed dropkick who has been stealing/borrowing money from the Sherwood Florist till and not accounting for it; out of her frustration at him she goes and beats up a drug cartel and white supremacists with the help of her new friend Gan Ngyuen, who would be a better boyfriend to Dinah than Ollie is being right now. In conversation with her Grell appearances, but seriously underestimates Dinah's actual skillset.

Black Canary 1993: 12 issue ongoing. Dinah's basically broken up with Ollie for the whole of this, which is completely fine by me, as Ollie uses some of his appearances in this book to accuse Dinah of sleeping with Ray Terrill. Who is 18 and was trying to look after the injured superhero who turned up on his doorstep. Time to go die in a firey helicopter crash, Ollie, you are terrible in the early 90s. Anyway, this is an incredibly uneven run that covers topics like Dinah's backstory, why Ray Terrill develops the biggest puppy crush on Dinah, and also the very first Nightwing-Oracle-Huntress-Black Canary team up. Tragically despite the compelling characterisation going on in this title between the four of them, the story they are in is a white slavery plot, rendering it almost impossible to recommend to people who aren't the sort to read every single appearance of a character.

Black Canary 2007: 4 issue miniseries. This would actually have been a compelling story apart from its intent and outcome. Dinah and Ollie, in the lead up to their wedding, grapple with combining their families and Dinah works with integrating Sin into the US educational system. Unfortunately, Sin is abducted and then Ollie fakes her death and doesn't tell Dinah what he's done, as he makes Connor take her off to one of the Himalayan monasteries various Arrows and companions have spent time at. Sin does not get to attend their wedding, and for some reason Dinah does not tell Ollie it's off even though he just faked Sin's death and lied to her about it.

Black Canary and Zatanna: Bloodspell 2014: Graphic novel. Paul Dini's pet project that he spent the best part of a decade trying to get DC to publish. The only decent Dinah solo on this list, it's not actually a Dinah solo because it's co-starring Zee. Dinah and Zatanna met each other as teens trying to live up to the expectations of their families, then reunite in Vegas after some of Dinah's friends tell her that someone's made them swear a magic oath to take part in a heist, and it's killing them. Hijinks ensue! This is the only title of any of them on this list that's actually full of joy. Please read it.

Black Canary 2015: 12 issue ongoing. 'What if Dinah decided to make Black Canary be the stage name of a musician in a band rather than a superhero?' Does this have any connections to previous Dinah characterisation? Not really, no. Does it sound like the premise of an Elseworlds rather than main continuity, even for n52? Yes. Dinah decides being a superhero is just too much work, so she'll be in a band instead, aside from all those times she needs to stop singing to fight crime in the audience. Contains a time travel plot involving Kurt Lance, aka the worst decision DC has ever made in regards to Dinah's love life, and I'm including Ra's al Ghul and marrying Ollie on that list. I think they made Kurt Lance save the universe but I admit I was hatereading at that point. The final issue has Dinah have her life flash before her eyes while retconning out most of the n52 changes to her characterisation and also suggesting she got pregnant with Ollie's baby at age 53 before dying of a mystery disease at age 69.

EDIT: Reminded of the Teen Book

Black Canary: Ignite 2019: DC teen graphic novel. Written by Meg Cabot, this is one of their teen alternate continuity rewrites set around the awkward period when Dinah was a teen and wanting to be a superhero like her mother, but Dinah Drake was firmly refusing to train her. Contains Larry Lance and is actually set in Gotham! (this is a good thing) On the other hand, maintains the 'was in a band' concept from Black Canary 2015, which personally I would rather stuff into a black hole never to be seen again, but angry teens singing in bands is a genre conceit for a reason. It's cute.

So really. Why would I let myself get my hopes up over Black Canary Volume 5?

[in-your-walls]

By the way Ma doesn’t have any girl in the film. He jokes about Wilson not being able to get one but as much noise as Wilson makes about not having any friends Ma also seems isolated. He doesn’t get along with the band he’s teaching/tensions high, disengaged with his mother even though he wishes her off well, etc. etc. of course one person both Wilson and Ma had was the boss/Inspector but then he died lol.

Anyway the way Ma is the one who’s concerned and trying to save Wilson’s ass throughout this film lol. Ma having to soldier the burden of TWO damsel in distresses ✋😔 rough life king. More thoughts later 🫡

[glittergridguardian]

BB stands for “Belgian Bullet”

by Brian Smith, 3.01.2012 glitterguardianmotorsports.com

At just 17 years old, Bradley Bradshaw is becoming one of the most talked-about young drivers in international motorsport. With a career that has moved almost uninterrupted since he was 5 years old, the half-Belgian talent is now within touching distance of Formula 1, having recently been confirmed as a reserve driver with backing from DAMS.

Bradshaw’s introduction to racing began in 2000, when F1 Champions Pete Mitchell and Tom Kazansky provided him with his first kart at age five. Like many top-tier drivers, he spent his early years practising far away from the spotlight before stepping into official competition in 2003. From the outset, he showed composure and natural pace that belied his age. By 2006, he was a regular contender in the Belgian and British National Karting Championship, facing off against some of the best young talents in the region.

The international CIK-FIA, in which he finished third in the championship, followed in 2007, and just a year later, Bradshaw surprised the paddock by claiming the CIK-FIA World Cup at the age of 13. The win placed him firmly on the radar of junior talent scouts, and it wasn’t long before he was snapped up by a development program and placed into single-seaters.

In 2009, Bradshaw made his car racing debut in Formula BMW Europe with Prema Powerteam—an outfit renowned for grooming future F1 prospects. He adapted quickly to the demands of open-wheel racing, delivering strong results in his rookie season. A step up to Formula 3 with the same team followed in 2010, where he continued to impress with consistent points finishes and flashes of real brilliance in challenging conditions.

It was in 2011, however, that Bradshaw truly announced himself on the world stage. Joining DAMS for a full season in the GP2 Series, he delivered a mature and composed campaign, ultimately winning the championship at just 16 years old. His title run was marked not just by raw speed, but by his ability to manage tyres, read races, and absorb pressure- traits rarely seen in drivers so young.

Now serving as a Formula 1 reserve driver heading into 2012, Bradshaw finds himself in legendary company. While no debut has yet been confirmed, his presence in the F1 paddock is already drawing attention. With proven results across every level of the junior ladder, we firmly believe that it’s only a matter of time before his name appears on the starting grid of a Grand Prix.

Bradley Bradshaw’s rise has been anything but boring: measured, relentless, and grounded in performance. If his trajectory continues, he may soon be more than just a promising talent..

This year, his long-time friends and rivals, Natasha Trace, Javy Machado and Mikey Garcia have also taken the step up into GP2. We cannot wait for the trouble these young drivers will cause if we look back at their track record.

If you are interested in reading more articles like this…

(Flipping the) Birds and Bees- Teen Drama or Rivalry? Trace vs. Machado at La Conca

Theft on Track- Karting’s new Robin Hood now found!

prev< 6 >next ✭ masterlist

[thatrickmcginnis]

DAVID CRONENBERG, Toronto 1990

Director David Cronenberg is a hometown hero. Born in Toronto in 1941, he made his early name with the Canadian version of “video nasties” – films like Shivers (1975), Rabid (1977) and The Brood (1979), and basically codified the horror subgenre of “body horror”. He had perfected this kind of film in 1988 with Dead Ringers, why which point he’d also moved into then then-thriving realm of art house cinema – smart, edgy, low- to middle-budget pictures that attracted considerable critical attention (he was already the topic of academic treatises and book-length overviews like The Shape of Rage: The Films of David Cronenberg), did the festival circuit and had long post-release lives in rep cinemas and on video. This is the point where I met Cronenberg for the first time, when he was my subject for a photo shoot for a long-gone lifestyle magazine.

It would have been perfect if my 1990 portrait session with David Cronenberg had been to promote Crash, his adaptation of J.G. Ballard’s novel about (literal) auto erotica, but that wouldn’t come out for six more years. My assignment was to photograph Cronenberg with a C4 Corvette – a car that the gearhead director had been loaned by my client, Country Estate magazine, to review for a feature in the glossy magazine, a sort of aspirational Canadian clone of Britain’s venerable Country Life. We arranged to do the shoot on Sunnyside Beach, not far from my Parkdale studio, and I showed up early to do some Polaroid tests to make sure I’d placed my single light in the right spot.

My idea for my 1990 portrait of David Cronenberg was simple – to get him near or on the signature bonnet of the C4 Corvette he’d been loaned, and to use my bounced flash to knock the sky behind him down a stop or so; a job made easier by the electronic leaf shutter on my newly acquired Bronica SQ-A medium format camera and a rented wide-angle lens. I apparently had somebody assisting me for this shoot – among the first times I’d ever work with an assistant – and I handed them my Nikon F3 to take some behind the scenes pics of the shoot. (Also the first time I’d ever done that sort of thing. Unfortunately I have no memory of who it was. They even got a shot of the art director of Country Estate checking out my framing – probably the first time I had a client on set.) Thankfully the sky that day was suitably overcast, and I was able to get some ominous detail in the clouds on the slide film I shot. Somewhere at the start of one roll I produced an accidental double-exposure that, though the client had no use for it, still amuses me enough today to want to reimagine it in black and white.

Cronenberg’s career would keep on building (though Country Estate wouldn’t make it more than another year or so into the new decade.) He’d become something like a mainstream filmmaker, with films like A History of Violence (2005) and Eastern Promises (2007), and he has just releases his latest film – a return to body horror called The Shrouds. I’d photograph him two more times (three if you count a press conference for Naked Lunch, which I don’t), but more about those shoots later.

[boardsdonthitback]

Donnie Yen, Collin Chou - Flash Point (2007)

[mr-cosmic-11]

I'm going to be brutally honest here! I'm very apprehensive about posting this tbh... </3

(Please read everything! It's okay not to agree with me on certain points!)

I love Flatland, both the book and the adaptations, and I don't think people should deprive themselves of seeing/liking one of the adaptations because the creator is extremely problematic.

That is why piracy exists!!!

Just because we like the work doesn't mean we support the creator, but it's still very important to spread to new people in the fandom about the things the person did.

In my case, I downloaded the 2007 adaptation so I wouldn't give any money or views to the creator, and I recommend that everyone do that, or see an older upload.

And yes, I recognize that the 2007 film really fails A LOT to show the social criticism of the book for obvious reasons, but in my opinion it's a good movie, it's just not a good adaptation.

Here's the link: https://archive.org/details/flatland2007

Thanks @walks-the-ages for the link :D

Oh yeah, the film have some flashing lights scenes and spinning cameras so be careful! :3

So yeah, PIRATE THE FLATLAND 2007 FILM AND BLOCK FILMLADD, BUT ALSO SPREAD TO NEW PEOPLE IN THE FANDOM ABOUT THE THINGS HE DID!!!

AND READ THE BOOK TOO!!!

I really don't want to make anyone sad or upset with me here! I really like this fandom even though I just got in at 1 month or 2 and I just wanted to show my opinion. :)

[m00npill]

[Transcript] Fallen Angels

FALL OUT BOY'S ULTRA-AMBITIOUS NEW ALBUM WILL MAKE THEM ONE OF THE WORLD'S BIGGEST BANDS. SO HOW COME PETE WENTZ IS STILL SO DEPRESSED?

source: x the other page missing ;-;

2007 Kerrang! No.1142

PETE WENTZ is an hour late.

Because of this the first thing you learn about Fall Out Boy is that nothing happens without him. His three other bandmates - singer and guitarist Patrick Stump, guitarist Joe Trohman and drummer Andy Hurley - sit waiting. They're in a conference room on the first floor of the Marriott Hotel in Lowell, Massachusetts, a pretty, vanilla flavoured town 60 minutes north of Boston. The reason the group are here is because in three hours they're due to play four songs in front of 8,000 people gathered to watch the local radio station's Christmas concert. But first they're forced to wait. Because picturing Fall Out Boy without Pete Wentz is like imagining a motorway without traffic.

"See, that's not right," says Patrick Stump. Stump is wearing a small frown and an indulgent smile. It's been said that he has no ego. As you hear him now he's checking out his own entry page on Wikipedia. "No, see, they've got that wrong...

We don't have much time. Fall Out Boy landed at Roston's Logan airport at 4pm. This lunchtime they were in Chicago; by dawn they'll be in Manhattan. The band's ride pulled up in Lowell an hour ago. It's now 6:30. At 9:25, they're due onstage. Before that they need to pose for photographs and answer questions.

"Pete's in his room," someone says. Andy Hurley goes downstairs to the toilet, taking a security guard with him. Fall Out Boy have two security men: one for Pete Wentz, one for the others.

Wentz calculates that he spends 40 minutes out of every hour on the phone. He receives up to a 100 emails a day. He owns a film production company. He's a published author. He owns his own record label. He owns his own clothing line. He's modelled for Gap. He'd be modelling for us if he could be bothered to be here.

But Pete is in his room, laid low with depression. He's sat on the floor "calling random people from [his] home town [Wilmette, Illinois]", people whom he believes will "understand [him]". Problem is, when they pick up the phone he "can't think of a thing to say". All the while it's getting later and later. He feels self-conscious about how to time his entry, aware that he might be thought of as "the asshole American guy in a band". Even now, two and a half hours later, these feelings are still resident in his mind. "It's weird," he'll say. "Although I'm functioning, half of my head is in another place.

Do you see how people might look at you, see your wealth and your privilege and your opportunities, and think: you ungrateful son of a bitch?

"Of course," he says. "I think that all the time. But you asked me about depression and so I'm talking about it. It's the culture we live in."

You don't seem to mind talking about it. "The only problem I have with it is that I don't want people to read this article and go, 'lt'd be so amazing to be depressed! That'd be cool!'. I don't want to create an industry of misery."

These days, Pete Wentz has prescriptions for Xanax, Praxil, Prozac and Ativan. To compliment this, he's taking serotonin reuptake inhibitors (more anti-depressants). In the past, he's been administered anti psychotics. If Wentz were to die tomorrow his coffin would need to be fitted with a child-proof lid.

"Sorry I'm late," he says, entering the conference room, shaking hands. "I'll be your self-conscious rock star for the day." Paul Harries, Kerrang!'s photographer, tells the bassist that we don't have much time. Pointing the lens at his face he tells him it'll need to see his full repertoire of poses. The subject understands precisely what the photographer means, and as the flash lights zap before him he gives him just that. The camera loves Pete Wentz, even if at the moment Pete Wentz hates himself.

He's depressed. You'd never know.

"NOT TO beat up on the press," says Joe Trohman. "But they do tend to take one look at our band and and say, Pete Wentz is Fall Out Boy." Trohman is answering a question as to whether it grates on his nerves that the band's bass player is the one who garners most of the public attention. "Not at all, no. Pete is the public face of the band because we want him to be the public face of the band.

Would you be screwed without him?

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Their Favorite Eurovision Songs 1956 - 2024 (Headcanons)

Rise!Turtles + Bonus!

A/N: I was just so hyped to see that Albania had chosen Shkodra Elektronike with Zjerm to represent them in Eurovision 2025, that I just HAD to write this. Two songs into 2025! Let’s see if it will get as chaotic this year like it did last year😂😅💚

Warnings: Flashing lights

Raphael:

1 points: TiTAN - Besa (Albania🇦🇱, 2024)

2 points: Ai Coração - Mimicat (Portugal🇵🇹, 2023)

3 points: Satellite - Lena (Germany🇩🇪, 2010)

4 points: Only Teardrops - Emmelie de Forest (Denmark🇩🇰, 2013)

5 points: Take Me to Your Heaven - Charlotte Nilsson (Sweden🇸🇪, 1999)

6 points: Ne Partez Pas Sans Moi - Céline Dion (Switzerland🇨🇭, 1988)

7 points: J’aime La Vie - Sandra Kim (Belgium🇧🇪, 1986)

8 points: We Will Rave - Kaleen (Austria🇦🇹, 2024)

10 points: Waterloo - ABBA (Sweden🇸🇪, 1974)

12 points: Euphoria - Loreen (Sweden🇸🇪, 2012)

Leonardo:

1 points: Making Your Mind Up - Bucks Fizz (United Kingdom🇬🇧, 1981)

2 points: Euphoria - Loreen (Sweden🇸🇪, 2012)

3 points: Take Me to Your Heaven - Charlotte Nilsson (Sweden🇸🇪, 1999)

4 points: Zorra - Nebulossa (Spain🇪🇸, 2024)

5 points: La Noia - Angelina Mango (Italy🇮🇹, 2024)

6 points: Zitti E Buoni - Måneskin (Italy🇮🇹, 2021)

7 points: Waterloo - ABBA (Sweden🇸🇪, 1974)

8 points: Soldi - Mahmood (Italy🇮🇹, 2019)

10 points: SloMo - Chanel (Spain🇪🇸, 2022)

12 points: Fuego - Eleni Foureira (Cyprus🇨🇾, 2018)

Donatello:

1 points: Because Of You - Gustaph (Belgium🇧🇪, 2023)

2 points: Only Teardrops - Emmelie de Forest (Denmark🇩🇰, 2013)

3 points: Popular - Eric Saade (Sweden🇸🇪, 2011)

4 points: The Code - Nemo (Switzerland🇨🇭, 2024)

5 points: Tattoo - Loreen (Sweden🇸🇪, 2023)

6 points: Waterloo - ABBA (Sweden🇸🇪, 1974)

7 points: Euphoria - Loreen (Sweden🇸🇪, 2012)

8 points: Before The Party Is Over - Mustii (Belgium🇧🇪, 2024)

10 points: Shum - Go_A (Ukraine🇺🇦, 2021)

12 points: Europapa - Joost Klein (Netherlands🇳🇱, 2024)

Michelangelo:

1 points: Puppet On A String - Sandie Shaw (United Kingdom🇬🇧, 1967)

2 points: 10 Years - Dadi og Gagnamagnid (Iceland🇮🇸, 2021)

3 points: Moustache - Twin Twin (France🇫🇷, 2014)

4 points: Give That Wolf A Banana - Subwoofer (Norway🇳🇴, 2022)

5 points: No Rules! - Windows95man (Finland🇫🇮, 2024)

6 points: Run Away - SunStroke Project and Olia Tira (Moldova🇲🇩, 2010)

7 points: Rim Tim Tagi Dim - Baby Lasagna (Croatia🇭🇷, 2024)

8 points: Dancing Lasha Tumbai - Verka Sandurchka (Ukraine🇺🇦, 2007)

10 points: Stefania - Kalush Orchestra (Ukraine🇺🇦, 2022)

12 points: Cha Cha Cha - Käärijä (Finland🇫🇮, 2023)

Bonus!

Splinter:

1 points: In A Moment Like This - Chanée and N’evergreen (Denmark🇩🇰, 2010)

2 points: Only Teardrops - Emmelie de Forest (Denmark🇩🇰, 2013)

3 points: Voila - Barbara Pravi (France🇫🇷, 2021)

4 points: Özülne Apar - Fahree (ft. Ilkin Dovletov) (Azerbaijan🇦🇿, 2024)

5 points: Refrain - Lys Assia (Switzerland🇨🇭, 1956)

6 points: Tout L'univers - Gjon’s Tears (Switzerland🇨🇭, 2021)

7 points: Euphoria - Loreen (Sweden🇸🇪, 2012)

8 points: Fly On The Wings Of Love - Brødrene Olsen (Denmark🇩🇰, 2000)

10 points: Teresa & Maria - alyona alyona, Jerry Heil (Ukraine🇺🇦, 2024)

12 points: Waterloo - ABBA (Sweden🇸🇪, 1974)

Baron Draxum:

1 points: De Troubadour - Lenny Kuhr (Netherlands🇳🇱, 1969)

2 points: Rock Bottom - Lynsey de Paul and Mike Moran (United Kingdom🇬🇧, 1977)

3 points: Tout L'univers - Gjon’s Tears (Switzerland🇨🇭, 2021)

4 points: Calm After The Storm - The Common Linnets (Netherlands🇳🇱, 2014)

5 points: Rock ‘n’ Roll Kids - Paul Harrington and Charlie McGettigan (Ireland🇮🇪, 1994)

6 points: Beautiful Mess - Kristian Kostov (Bulgaria🇧🇬, 2017)

7 points: Hold Me - Farid Mammadov (Azerbaijan🇦🇿, 2013)

8 points: Molitva - Marija Serifovic (Serbia🇷🇸, 2007)

10 points: 1944 - Jamala (Ukraine🇺🇦, 2016)

12 points: Amar Pelos Dois - Salvador Sobral (Portugal🇵🇹, 2017)

April:

1 points: Running Scared - Ell and Nikki (Azerbaijan🇦🇿, 2011)

2 points: Only Teardrops - Emmelie de Forest (Denmark🇩🇰, 2013)

3 points: La Noia - Angelina Mango (Italy🇮🇹, 2024)

4 points: Everyway That I Can - Sertab Erener (Turkey🇹🇷, 2003)

5 points: My Number One - Helena Paparizou (Greece🇬🇷, 2005)

6 points: Euphoria - Loreen (Sweden🇸🇪, 2012)

7 points: Shady Lady - Ani Lorak (Ukraine🇺🇦, 2008)

8 points: Évidemment - La Zarra (France🇫🇷, 2023)

10 points: Rise Like A Phoenix - Conchita Wurst (Austria🇦🇹, 2014)

12 points: The Code - Nemo (Switzerland🇨🇭, 2024)

Cassandra:

1 points: Euphoria - Loreen (Sweden🇸🇪, 2012)

2 points: Jezebel - The Rasmus (Finland🇫🇮, 2022)

3 points: Promise - Voyager (Australia🇦🇺, 2023)

4 points: Ulveham - Gåte (Norway🇳🇴, 2024)

5 points: Blood & Glitter - Lord Of The Lost (Germany🇩🇪, 2023)

6 points: Zitti E Buoni - Måneskin (Italy🇮🇹, 2021)

7 points: Dark Side - Blind Channel (Finland🇫🇮, 2021)

8 points: We Could Be The Same - Manga (Turkey🇹🇷, 2010)

10 points: Doomsday Blue - Bambie Thug (Ireland🇮🇪, 2024)

12 points: Hard Rock Hallelujah - Lordi (Finland🇫🇮, 2006)

Casey Jr:

1 points: Brividi - Mahmood and Blanco (Italy🇮🇹, 2022)

2 points: Euphoria - Loreen (Sweden🇸🇪, 2012)

3 points: The Code - Nemo (Switzerland🇨🇭, 2024)

4 points: Soldi - Mahmood (Italy🇮🇹, 2019)

5 points: Promise - Voyager (Australia🇦🇺, 2023)

6 points: Fairytale - Alexander Rybak (Norway🇳🇴, 2009)

7 points: What’s Another Year - Johnny Logan (Ireland🇮🇪, 1980)

8 points: Zitti E Buoni - Måneskin (Italy🇮🇹, 2021)

10 points: We Could Be The Same - Manga (Turkey🇹🇷, 2010)

12 points: Stefania - Kalush Orchestra (Ukraine🇺🇦, 2022)