#green screen sydney

[powwowstudio]

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For more read:-https://community.wongcw.com/posts/795086

[unladyboss]

THE BIG GREEN SCREEN: THE BEAR SEASON 3 with update

In behind the scenes shots I noticed this big green screen with all these cars.

We didn't such scenes in season 3, so I wonder what they filmed there

What is this all about?

The crew made a BIG deal about how big this was

UPDATE: Someone told me it was when Nat was in her car. Episode 8.

[low-budget-korra]

The Legend of Korra Fancast

This one was hard to make. Specially the Watertribe that is based manly on the Inuk people but it physical appearance also resemble a lot other native people, like the Maori and other Native American people.

This fancast is based on appearance, ethnicity and vibes.

Korra- Devery Jacobs and Sydney Park

Devery Jacobs is a native actress who stars in Reservation Dogs, a show I haven't watched but it is on my watchlist. She is the first pick for the role, because she is native american, despite being light skinned in comparison to Korra.

The second pick is Sydney Park, I read she is mixed but I choose her based on her appearance only. I haven't seen none of them acting, but in those pictures I could see Korra in both of them.

Asami Sato - Havana Rose Liu and Kelsey Chow

I've Watched Bottoms and in the moment I saw Havana Rose Liu on screen I thought "that's Asami Sato" and, I mean, just look at her. She is gorgeous, sophisticated, charismatic, she even has those beautiful green eyes. And importantly, the acting is there.

I feel the same with Kelsey Chow, especially after watching clips of her in Yellowstone. Sure, she ain't asian or asian American (I've read that she has some native american background) but still, I think she is a good second choice even being too old for the role cuz like Devery Jacobs, who is also in her 30's, they look younger than they really are.

Mako - JJ Jr Mackenyu / Ludi Lin

I haven't watched One Piece but one look at JJ Jr Mackenyu and I saw Mako.

Same with Ludi Lin, sure he is also too old for the role but he has that "cooliness" , that "bad boy" aura that Mako has especially in book 1.

Bolin - Niko Hiraga // Kai Bradbury

I only saw Niko Hiraga in Booksmart and haven't seen any work of Kai Bradbury but look at those eyes, such sympathetic eyes man.

Tenzin - Donnie Yen / Ke Huy Quan

Ip Man himself as Tenzin is a dream and one of the most common fancasting of the character but I think Ke Huy Quan would be The Tenzin, I mean, in Everything Everywhere all at once he shows an heart and an light that justs would fit Tenzin so well

Lin Beifong - Michelle Yeoh // Ming-Na Yen

The same with Michelle Yeoh, I mean just look at her and her works. Ming-Na Yen would also be an amazing choice for Lin, if see her in clips from agents of shield and damn she seems so good in there.

Suyin Beifong - Maggie Q / Lucy Liu

Maggie Q is a baddie with such kind eyes and mother vibe (yes, I loved Nikita) that fits so well with Su. Lucy Liu brings the same as Maggie Q but with some swagger that would be fun to watch.

Amon - Meegwun Fairbrother / Adam Beach

No, Meegwun is not a white man but it is white passing just as Amon. I haven't see any of them acting, I'm going just by looks here. Adam would be the choice if they choose to make Amon look more like a Watertribe man.

Tarrlok - Tatanka Means // Matariki Whatarau

Same with Amon fancasting, Mataraki ain't native american but he is Maori(according to google) and yes, he is too young for the character and that's also why Tatanka is my first choice

Zaheer - Henry Rollins / Ron Yuan

Before y'all jump on me because I pick a white guy has first choice to play Zaheer, let's remember that he has a view of the Air Nomad culture and mentality that he considers superior even in comparison with the only Airbender master at the time, he also is a hypocrite since he let his friends destroy a millennial temple symbol and museum of the culture he said it's inspired him. This is the type of arrogance and disrespect that typically comes from a white man c'mon

I didn't know any of Ron Yuan work but just by his appearance I think he would be a good choice for Zaheer

Kuvira - Sonoya Mizuno / Natasha Liu Bourdizzo

Sonoya and Natasha , can't choose who I like best for the character, both of them has that damn penetrating powerful gaze.

[silvervioletvalentine]

🏑Everything has changed 🏑

Pairing: Sydney Crosby x Single mom Cherrie

Word count : 6.7k

Summary: falling in love can come as easily as breathing sometimes . The right person can be the one who holds the door open for you .

'And all I've seen

Since eighteen hours ago

Is green eyes and freckles and your smile

In the back of my mind making me feel like'

Sydney didn't know what was coming over him as he froze by the apartment complex door , barely blinking , barely breathing as he watched her brush past him.

Mumbling a small, shy , sorry as she cradled a small baby to her chest . Not even looking up at him as he held the door open for her , arching his arm up high on the doorframe so she could duck underneath it, not even thinking to move himself completely . Feeling like he had been stuck in a daze , as though somebody had cast a spell over him.

She glanced briefly over her shoulder at him, still stood there holding the door like a damn fool. Eyes wide and chest still, struck on her , swallowing as he dazedly watched as she flashed him the most prettiest smile he had ever seen.

"Thank you." She mumbled to him gratefully , arms full. And Sidney recognised that the baby must have been her own, the same head of hair and the biggest bambi eyes looking around over her shoulder , then straight at him too.

He didn't know what to do or what to think , barley managing to mutter a quick "it's alright." Before she was gone. And he could finally breathe.

Letting out a small groan of humiliation as he let the door close shut again, rubbing the palm of his hand over his face as he replayed each split second of their encounter in his head.

Cringing in mortification to himself at how stupid he must have looked to her then, frozen still , unable to move and practically forcing her to duck underneath his arm instead of just stepping aside for her like a normal person.

He swallowed thickly , felt the rapid beating of his heart and cursed beneath his breath. Wondering if he was coming down with something because what else could explain his strange behaviour ? If his friends could have seen him then, he would have been getting chirped on for life after that display.

So he sees a pretty girl and suddenly he can't fucking speak? He was a grown ass man for gods sake! What the hell was wrong with him? He wondered embarrassed as he quickly hurried back up to his apartment .

Shaking his head to himself because this was not how he wanted his new nigh out to meet him at all. Not only was he a sweaty mess from the gym, he had also acted like some hormonal teenager that couldn't talk to girls at all. Hell knows what she thought of him now

The rest of that night all he could think about was her, wondering what her story was. Wondering why a beautiful , young woman would be moving into an apartment on her own with a baby. Wondering if she was married, it somebody loved her . Barely believing that a woman that beautiful could be single , I mean, that smile ...

She had took more breath out of him than all the times he was getting bodied slammed in ice by a grown man  , and that was not normal at all.

He placed his hand over his chest and his frown deepened , his stomach twisting as he replayed her shy smile in the back of his mind, exhaling uneasily.

Met the new girl next door. He text his friend slowly , still feeling strange in ways that he just couldn't , and wouldn't , explain to his friends.

Oh yeah? She hot? He texted back.

Sydney paused , fingers hovering over the screen of his phone before hesitantly typing

Yes.

She had dimples man. He sighed , stressed.

Oh? Where?

Sydney rolled his eyes, a small smile playing on his lips.

On her face asshole. She Has a smile like the sun.

Ah man. His friend knowingly typed back and Sydney Could just picture his smirk through the screen. You're fucked.

Completely. Sydney agreed. Sighing , hands over his eyes. Because when he woke up the next day and went about his day, eighteen hours later and her smile was still all could think about

'Cause all I know is we said, "Hello"

And your eyes look like comin' home

All I know is a simple name

And everything has changed'

Sydney finally got to officially meet the girl that he had been practically obsessing mentally about that very next weekend.

When he was once again getting home late from a game , she was there by her front door. The little baby balancing on her hip, crying a little as she struggled to get the keys into the lock properly . Clearing tired ands stressed out as she sushed her baby softly , rocking side to side in attempt to soothe him.

Sydney took a deep breath To gather his confidence as he felt his stomach twist again, cautiously approaching them before his mind could convince him that it was a bad idea.

He cleared his throat , then winced A little as he watched her nearly jump out of her skin at the sight of him suddenly appearing beside her.

"Sorry! Sorry!" He hurriedly apologised , cheeks flushing with colour as he offered her a smile that he hoped showed that he wasn't a threat.

"I'm Sydney." He then blurted out before he could just continue to awkwardly stare at her and freak her out some more.

Seeing the way that she was looking at him, brows furrowed and shoulders tense, gripping her baby tighter in her arms. He winced again "your neighbour. I held the door open for you last week." He felt the need to explain some more, feeling the heat spread from his cheeks to his ears now.

And he felt so fucking thankful that he hadn't offered to host hus friends for beers at his place because If they are to witness the way he was behaving now, they would never let him hear the end of it.

It was humiliating and Sydney didn't understand why he was behaving like this at all.

Her face softened a little then as she saw just how nervous him scaring her had made him, letting out a small giggle as she offered him another one of her smiles.

Sydney felt goosebumps break out across his skin.

"I remember you." She said quietly , relaxing now that she realised just who had crept up on her.

She looked at him sweatpants and hoodie, his wet hair and frowned a little "is it raining out? I was just out and it wasn't.." she wondered out loud. Mother instincts kicking in at the thought of him wandering around in the cold with his wet hair freely.

Sydney chuckled a little, rubbing his fingers through his hair. "Nah. I had a shower after the game." He said . Then he saw her confused look and his eyes widened in disbelief .

"What game?" She asked him curiously , wondering if he was some type of rugby player. He was buff enough to be one but his face was far too pretty.

Sydney looked at her in shock, blinking in astonishment because this was a first. He felt a little dizzy.

"You don't know who I am?" He blurted out. Then cringed at how entitled that sounded.

Fuck me. He mentally complained. What the hell is wrong with me? Why am I being so...uncool? He wondered to himself in embarrassment.

Thankfully she just let out a small Confused laugh and shook her head a little . Rocking her gurgling baby a little more in her arms as he wiggled about restlessly .

"No? I don't know you do I?" She winced at the thought while eyeing him up and down, scanning her memory for his face and coming up blank . Hoping to god that he wasn't some ex hookup from her wild college days or something.

She was a wild child before life had crashed down on her ass and forced her to grow up and face the consequences of drinking every night to the point where she apparently thought that she was allergic to rubber. But alas. That was the past and this was now.

And she had a ridiculously handsome man as her new neighbour , smiling down at her like she was his Christmas gift come early.

"You do not." He breathed out , grinning now.

Eyes flickering down to the baby in her arms, his little head now facing him as he blinked his big eyes up at him curiously . Syd he  his face soften at how adorable he was.

"And who's this little man playing where's Waldo?" He teased , motioning towards his red and white striped jumpsuit and hat. He looked cute as hell, there was no denying it. That baby had hit the genetic genes with her as his mother .

She rolled her eyes at him playfully , stroking the top of her baby's head affectionately. "This is benny. And those are his pyjamas since it is nearly midnight." She pointedly told him, smiling up at him. In awe by just how attractive he was.

Sydney smiled , reaching out to gently tap bennys little nose. Chuckling when he giggled , all high pitched and cute.

He awed softly . Enamoured by the both of them then.

"And do I get to know mammas name too?" He wondered a little nervously . Glancing over at her again, giving her a hopeful smile, heart pounding in his chest as he crossed his fingers behind his back.

She looked at him for a look moment . Taking in his flushed cheeks  and nervous smile. The way he wouldn't stop fidgeting on his feet , shoving his hands into the pocket of his sweatpants .

The longer she took to answer him, clearly expecting her not to, the more anxious he visibly got, Having already decided in his head that she was way out of league anyways .

She felt the familiar butterflies ravish across her chest and down to her stomach , fighting back a defeated sigh.

It'll happen when you least expect it. Her grandmother used to always tell her when she asked her about falling in love.

You probably won't even want it and then bam! Some stupid man will walk casually into your life and wreck all your plans . And you'll just know .

It'll be easy. and it will be sweet. Don't trust any of that 'love hurts nonsense honey.' She used to tell her fondly , like the wise woman she was. 'Love isn't like that That at all. Love is supposed to feel like coming home . Like everything has changed."

So she took a deep breath and told him gently "it's cherrie. It's Nice to meet you Sydney." Reaching out her free hand for him to shake, giving him this one chance.

And he took it.

He wrapped his fingers around her own and felt his skin burning , gently shaking her hand with his. Lingering there for a moment longer than he should as he looked into her pretty eyes, sighing a little As he did so.

"It's nice to meet you too Cherrie." He told her , having never said a more honest thing in his life.

And as Cherrie watched Sydney turn away from her to carefully take bennys tiny hand in his own, shaking it gently with a smile on his face. She just knew that her grandmother was smirking down at her knowingly , a 'I told you so' look on her beautiful face.

"And it's nice to meet you too little man." Sydney muttered , gently nudging his chubby cheeks before straightening up again. Giving Cherrie another glance "hopefully we'll get to bump into each other more often?" He hoped. Eyes glistening like daylight .

Cherrie just smiled and Sydney knew then that everything had changed.

'All I know is you held the door

You'll be mine and I'll be yours

All I know since yesterday

Is everything has changed'

It turned out that Sydney did a lot more than bumping into them after that night . Almost like he planned it. (He did).

The very next morning he was up at the crack ass Of dawn , excited and pumped , having his confused assistant get him a load of baby merchandise from their team catalogue . Ignoring her startled look and worried questions of 'did you get someone pregnant and not tell us Sydney?!'.

Instead he was grinning widely when she opened up the door, yawning cutely and looking behind confused As he silently held up a tiny Crosby jersey for her to see. Excitement  written across his face.

Hyped up on coffee and hope and nerves, his confidence was at a all time high . and he hadn't Given himself a second to overthink a single thing before he was at her front door . Not even thinking , just doing what felt right.

"Look how cute this is." He stated proudly , grinning as he looked down at his name on the jersey . Turning it around for her to see.

With messy hair, just a oversized tshirt dried with baby food on. Face puffy from sleep , she was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen as he watched her yawn again. Squinting at the jersey in his hand in tired confusion.

Blinking slowly , she sniffled . Barely there.

"Crosby? Who's that?" She mumbled out tiredly , rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. Stepping away from the door to head back over to the high chair where little benny was sat, impatiently waiting to be fed.

Sydney didn't hesitate to wander in straight after her , an arm full of baby clothes coming with him . All penguins and Crosby. Giddy with this new feeling inside of him, refusing to even question it.

"My name." He simply answered her. Grinning down at Benny who started clapping his hands and holding his breath in excitement , squirming in his chair as soon as he caught sight of him.

Sydney laughed "breathe little man!" He said in amusement as he took a seat at the table beside his high chair . Not even thinking to ask, completely missing the incredulous look on cherries face as she watched him settle right in like he had always been there.

"I know I'm amazing but come on.." he chuckled , gently stroking the curls on top of his little head. Shaking his head fondly at him, heart feeling soft .

"He's gonna be the coolest little dude wearing this." He then turned to face Cherrie again , nodding towards the clothes proudly .

Still confused and shocked and tired , she scratched at her forehead warily . Blinking at him slowly as she tried to catch up "football?" She muttered. Carefully lifting one of the tiny jerseys up to look at it , not a sports fan at all.

She could name messi and neymar and that was about it. She had a baby to take care of after all, no time for sport games.

Sports had never interested her. Maybe some of the players in college when she was in her hoe era but that was about as far as her knowledge went . How to blow a football player underneath the bleachers in less than five minutes . That she knew.

Sydney Crosby? She did not. Alright, she bit her lip gently as she looked at him, sat at her table in Nike shorts and a tight tshirt , looking like he belonged in the front page of GQ. She wouldn't mind being a hoe for him at all.

Teenage Cherrie could be foaming at the mouth. Adult Cherrie was just wondering why such a hot man was sat at her table , bringing her baby clothes and smiling up at her like she was something special.

"Hockey." He corrected her in amusement . Picking up the tiny bottle of baby food and the little spoon, he gathered some of the mushed food onto it.

Before pausing just before he could feed benny, cheeks flushing As he glanced back over at her. "I can feed him? Sorry...I didn't ask." He muttered embarrassed that he had gotten caught up in it all.

She didn't know him after all . But he wanted her to. and he wanted to know her, he wanted to know everything.

Cherrie just smiled , heart softening as she looked at him nervously fidget in his seat. His eyes wide and apologetic as he looked up at her.

She knew what was happening and god was she scared. She's had been burned before after all. A single mother in her early twenties told everyone all about that, but she was trying not to let one guys cruelness affect another, Especially not one as handsome and kind as Sydney seemed to be.

So fighting off the instinct to push him away and physically recoil from men entirely , she gave him a smile and relaxed .

"Sure. As long as you don't mind getting pudding all over you." She simply said .

Sydney just chuckled as he carefully fed benny a spoonful, grinning in Awe as he watched the little baby hum and wiggle in his seat As he practically tried to chomp the plastic spoon out of his hand.

"I don't mind." He muttered continuing to happily feed him. Then he remembered what he had promised himself to do and took a deep breath.

I can do this. He encouraged himself firmly. I'll regret it forever if I don't at least try. He then tried to reason with himself but the words failed to come out.

"Cherrie?" He finally called over to her. Watching as she poured herself a cup of coffee , leaning against the counter to face him when he said her name .

"Yeah?" She hummed. Curious .

He hesitated , then finally exhaled "you prefer going out for dinner or staying in?" He asked her as casually as he could manage to while feeling like he was going to have heart failure .

She frowned slightly in confusion. Tilting her head a little at him as she answered "staying in. Baby's and restaurants just don't end well."

Sydney nodded his head , giving her a grin. "Pizza?" He asked her. Wiping bennys mouth with his bib gently once he was done feeding him.

Cherrie paused, cup raised to her lips as she looked at him hesitantly . Wondering if he was really suggesting what she thought he was.

"Sydney..." she sighed. Nervously fidgeting with her cup as she watched his smile drop when she didn't say yes. But she felt the need to warn him. "I'm a mother." As though he didn't already know that.

Sydney frowned back at her , confused. "And I'm a hockey player?" He replied back blinking "what's that got to do with pizza?"

She gave him a look "you know what I mean." She said a little annoyed . Used to guys running for the hills as soon as they Realised that benny was in fact hers. "You won't just be having pizza with me. You'll be having pizza with benny too." She told him matter of factly. Expecting him to take it back and agree with her.

But Sydney had laughed and shrugged his shoulders with a grin. "Sounds good. Do they even do baby pizza?" He wondered out loud casually . As though his heart wasn't threatening to leave his rib cage then.

Cherrie just shook her head with a small smile tugging at her lips. Giving in With a defeated little huff because what else could she do?

"There is not."

He nodded again , pulling up the Crosby jersey again. "He's gotta wear this gem for pizza night." He stated. Grinning at her boyishly .

Cherrie just sighed because her grandma was right.

She did know.

'And all my walls

Stood tall painted blue

But I'll take 'em down, take 'em down

And open up the door for you'

But it wasn't always easy and Sydney had never expected it to be all sunshine and rainbows because that wasn't how real life was .

He had come to learn that She was as beautiful as she was stubborn but by then Sydney had learned to just roll with it. Because he knew that she needed a solid presence there for her when she got all knitted up like this, knew that he needed to stay calm and factual with her.

She was used to silly , stupid boys that were easy to push away. Insecure men that didn't know how to handle a woman like her, but Sydney was determined to prove to her that he was nothing like them at all.

And he thought that he had been doing a pretty great job at it so far.

He had made sure that she knew just how much he wanted to be around her, everything really had changed for him . And so quickly it had become that Sydney could barely bare to be away from her or benny for very long at all .

They were quickly becoming his whole world and Sydney wasn't going to let anybody ruin that.

So when they were out on a rare night out together at some bar her friends had been bugging her to go to, benny at his grandmas for the night.

Sydney Could only watch in confusion as Cherrie suddenly went tense beside him and then pulled her body away from him, making his arm fall down to his side from where it had been placed comfortably around her shoulders for most of the night.

Holding her purse in his other hand, he frowned warily to himself as he watched her straighten up with a odd look on her pretty face just as a woman walked over to them.

There was a moment where the woman just looked Cherrie up and down, eyes widening before she let out a loud laugh.

"Oh my god!" She gasped , grinning at her like they were best friends . "is that really you Cherrie? You've changed so much.." the way she said it didn't sound so nice either.

Sydney tensed up , his frown deepening as he silently stood to the side and just watched. Not wanting to step in , knowing by now that she hated being coddled and that she got embarrassed whenever he stepped in before .

So this time, he just stayed silent because she had pulled away from him. and it stung . But he knew her boundaries and knew what her body language meant by now.

"Yeah." Cherrie muttered, clutching onto her drink in her hands tightly . Swallowing drily when she noticed Maxine eye the drink in her hand with a smirk on her face.

"Still a party girl then? The baby not take you away from your wildness huh?" She laughed , clearly judging her.

And Sydney kind of wanted to grab that drink and throw it in her bitch face but unfortunately that would be assault .

Cherrie didn't answer so Maxine took it upon herself to continue on despite the uncomfortable look on cherries face , Sydney tried to gently place his hands on cherries waist in support so that she knew he was there, but she shrugged him off, not even looking at him.

He inhaled silently then , telling himself not to take it personal. She was clearly upset , she would tell him why she was acting like this when she was ready.

Hopefully.

"I can't believe you actually went through with it! All the girls were placing bets on which footballers baby it was! Was it Harrison's? You two were always fucking around between classes.." she smirked at her meanly .

Cherrie swallowed , skin prickling as Maxine brought up all of her past shame right in front of Sydney who knew nothing about it. Because she didn't want him to know what a wildcard she had Been before benny came and settled her down.

She had been the definition of a whore and she knew it. She had been easy , she had been the party girl.

The girl that everybody wanted to get with and most of them she let hit it too, because she was lonely and desperate for attention back then. Mix in alcohol and daddy issues and she was your average college girl who was trying to find love in all the wrong places.

But she was better now. She was grown up and she didn't just sleep with anybody anymore. She hasn't been with anybody since bennys dad , and Sydney had been the only man that she had been with since then.

But she didn't want him to know about it because she was scared. What if he thought differently of her after finding out what a party girl she had been? Her body count was way more than his, there was no doubt about it.

Would he think that she was easy and that he didn't want a girl that had been around the block a dozen times?

What if he didn't want her anymore?

The thought of losing him because of what an idiot she had been when she was younger made her want to dump him before he could dump her.

She didn't want Sydney to have the power to break her heart, her heart and thoughts were going rapid with panic and fear. Irrationality mixed with hard liquor not Helping her at all. It was like all common sense had went out the window and she froze up .

"No. No. I-he-" she stammered , blinking back the stinging in her eyes. Feeling like her throat was closing as she looked at maxines mean smirk , knowing exactly what she was doing.

And Cherrie hated that she knew exactly why Maxine was doing this. Because Cherrie had been a horrible person as a teenager , boy crazy and the queen B. She had went a little power crazy and let the popularity ruin her for a while .

And cherrie couldn't even get angry at Maxine for acting this way because mostly she felt ashamed that the past was always going to follow her everywhere.

Because Maxine hated her simply because her boyfriend had dumped her for Cherrie when they were eighteen , because every boy in their class had wanted her then. And Cherrie hadn't cared at all about how the girl felt, too busy sucking faces in front of her with her boyfriend , without a single care in the world.

She had been a bitch. There was no denying it.

But it was different now. Everything has changed and now the only man she wanted was stood beside her, hearing what a whore she had been before benny. And it scared her and she hated it.

"Actually he's mine." Sydney butted in blandly , hearing enough.

Seeing the way that Cherrie had frozen up and seeing the tears cloud her pretty eyes had Him stepping up, taking her hand in his own no matter how hard she tried to tug it away.

He held on stronger . He wasn't going anywhere . And neither was she. They were a team now, they could face the world together.

He wasn't going to let her be spoken To like this. She didn't deserve it. And he wasn't going to let it happen.

The past was the past and in his opinion it should stay there. Not go be brought up in some club years later when everything had changed.

"And we were busy so.." he gave her a clearly fake smile. Steering Cherrie away, not giving the frowning Maxine another glance.

Instead he turned to face Cherrie, sighing when she pushed him away and stomped out of the bar like her ass was on fire , Sydney hot in her heels. Not letting Her get very far at all.

"Fuck off Sydney." She snapped. Overwhelmed , drunk and upset . Convinced that he wasn't going to love her now.

Sydney shook his head in frustration , not understanding why she was acting like this now.

Just wanting to make her feel better .

"No." He ground out firmly "you're going to tell me what's going on! Why are you snapping at me? I didn't do anything!" He stated annoyed .

She just scoffed , spinning around to glare tearfully at him. "No. But you're going to! Now you know what a fucking slut I was! You can't tell me that you're happy with me now!" She pushed at him roughly , sniffling . Beyond upset.

He scoffed at her. Rolling his eyes. "no I'm not happy . You're right." Seeing her face crumble, clearly not catching his sarcasm , he sighed loudly .

"I'm not happy because you're not Cherrie! I don't care what you were like in fucking college. You think that I think that you got benny by being some saint?" He sarcastically responded . Gently grabbing her wrist to pull her closer , not letting her storm off.

They were going to work this out, Right here and right now.

She looked up at him, blinking away the tears . sniffling emotionally .

"you don't care?" She couldn't believe it. She would care. She was a mess.

Sydeny just laughed at her in disbelief. Eyes scanning her beautiful face as though she was joking , shaking his head at her fondly .

"are you kidding me?" He squished her face between his hands , puckering up her lips for him , quickly leaning down to steal a quick but firm kiss, laughing at the startled squeak she let out as he did so.

"the only thing I care about is you now. And let me ask you- are you the same girl that you were back then?" He asked her seriously. Already knowing the answer.

She frowned at him , looking at him all upset and pouty . "No. I'm Not." She mumbled grumpily . Leaning onto his chest as his arms came up to rest around her back, biting back a grin at her poutiness. The same pout that benny wore whenever he wasn't allowed anymore ice cream.

He rose a brow at her smugly , "exactly. And that's all I care about. You want to fuck anyone but me?" He then casually asked her already knowing the answer to that question too . Confident in her and him and who they were together .

He trusted her and he knew that she trusted him too. It was all going to be just fine.

She paused, then blushed, then shook her head a little bashfully .

"No. You know I don't. I just want you Syd ." She whispered. It was a promise.

He leaned down and gently nudged their noses together , feeling happy when she finally let out a soft giggle. Leaning into him fully , letting him comfort her.

Wrapping his arms around her fondly , he gave her a strong squeeze. So filled with love for her that it hurt . He wanted to kill anybody that even bought a tear to her ear. That woman, her shitty ex boyfriend and that pizza shop that had put pineapple on her pizza despite her asking them not to.

That was love. Hope. Protectiveness and happiness he knew what he wanted in life and his future was standing right in front of him, puckering her lips up for another kiss.

He kissed her again ".And I want you. It's as simple As that. I didn't know you then but I know you now alright?" He told her clearly , making her understand how serious he was about this, about her .

"And I love you for who you are. All the good and all the bad. You can call yourself a problem but you're my problem now alright? Are we clear?" He muttered down to her seriously , tilting your her chin between his fingers so he could meet her eyes. Keeping her gaze on him.

Smiling to himself contently when she quickly nodded her head, cheeks flushed as she squirmed at his demanding tone and held him closer. Trusting him completely .

"Crystal." She agreed without any hesitation  . The weight being lifted of her shoulder .

"Can we go home?" She then asked him softly. Just wanting to be with him .

Sydeny smiled down at her and kissed the top her head a dozen times, Heart feeling full because he finally had her walls crashing down for him. Getting the whole story instead of just the pages in her messy book.

And he still loved her. Nothing was going to change that.

Everything had changed for the better . His sun was never going down. His daylight was never fading .

'And all I feel

In my stomach is butterflies

The beautiful kind, makin' up for lost time

Takin' flight, makin' me feel like'

"So it's serious then?" His friend inhaled sharply in disbelief . The two men stood side by side in a corner of a fancy room as they stared down at a glass case of fancy diamond rings .

Sydeny chuckling a little as he carefully picked up a emerald cut ring , titling it to the light As he envisioned it on her slim finger .

"What gave you that clue?" He joked. More than Amused by his reaction.

His friend just shot him a look, still in shock. "I just can't Believe it man! I mean- shit-marriage is a big deal! What if in a few years you hate her? Then what?!" He rambled , worried.

Sydney couldn't have laughed any harder if he tried.

"Trust me man, I couldn't hate her ever. She could run me over with my own car and I'd still tell her it wasn't her fault. She's the one." He simply responded . Believing it with everything in him.

"I can't believe it." His friend repeated , sighing loudly . Shaking his head in disbelief .

"You. Married. Plus that means you'll be bennys step dad too. That's serious." He said. As though he didn't already know, like he hasn't planned it all through .

From day one, he knew what he wanted as soon as he saw her smile at him while he held the door open for her. And he hadn't  even knew her name then, but he knew.

Sydney just rolled his eyes "that's the whole point. This is as serious as I am about her and benny.  I love that little man and he loves me. He's the next Crosby. Hopefully the next baby will be as perfect as he is." He stated without thinking , still looking at the rings.  Not paying any kind to the prices.

His friend place a hand on his chest , exhaling heavily. "Man. I feel like I'm dreaming. Plus she's so out of your league! How did you even bag her?" He laughed at him in disbelief.

He had met Cherrie on several occasions and he couldn't believe that she was  his girlfriend .

She looked like a supermodel but she was the sweetest and funniest woman that he had ever met. and watching her tiny ass put Sydney in his place was hilarious , and watching sydeny run about after her and moon over her whenever they were on the road was just as insane to him too.

His mr hockey had become mr hockey and Cherrie and benny now. It was strange to witness but he was happy for Sydney because he had never seen his friend so fucking happy before .

"Food and wine." Sydeny muttered , face lightening up as he held up the perfect ring. The butterflies swarming in his stomach , making up for lost time.

And Sydney knew that it was going to be forever because it had always felt like he had known her forever . His love for her was as easy as breathing. All he wanted to do was make her happy , because seeing her smile because of him made him just as happy too.

It really was that simple. and well, happy wife happy life right?

Now he just needed to make her his wife now. So he could annoy her with that catchy phrase.

He couldn't wait.

'All I know is a new found grace

All my days, I'll know your face

All I know since yesterday

Is everything has changed'

Cherrie was sat in the sand digging up sand castles , listening to benny giggle and whisper with Sydney with a smile on her face. Lifting up her head from the sand, she grinned over at them playfully .

Heart feeling full as she watched them, seeing benny in his Sydney shirt , matching with Sydney right down to his swimming trunks .

"What are you two gossiping about?" She called over to them in amusement.

Sydney gave benny a look and the nearly three year old started stumbling over to her , a large shell in his hand. and she sat up, thinking that her son was about to show her his findings from the beach hunting that He and Sydney had been on. Collecting shells for them to paint once they got home.

"Just about how good you look right now. You've got that sun kissed glow." Sydney told her as he slowly walked over , ruffling bennys messy hair . The toddler giggling and beaming up at him as he did so.

He winked at him , gently kneeling down on one knee beside him. Wrapping a arm loosely around his waist so he didn't topple down in the sand, keeping him upright.

Cherrie Thought nothing about his position , just him supporting benny. She reached over to give him a soft kiss , giggling a little as she pulled away.

"I think you're lying." She whispered

Playfully , looking down at benny with a smile.

"what did silly Syd really say?" She tickled his small stomach making him shriek with laughter

Sydney quickly took the shell from his hand before he could drop it , and while she was distracted , he turned it over on the palm of his hand.

Benny now sitting beside him crossed legged while he stayed there in front of her on one knee.

"Syddy wants to marry mommy!" He giggled out, pointing at him with a toothless grin on his little face.

Laughing along with him, she turned her head to see what he was pointing at and froze up. Eyes going wide as she looked at Sydney, on one knee, holding out a shell in the palm of his hand, tears in his eyes too as he smiled at her softly , patiently.

"What'd ya say babe? Want to marry me?" His voice shook as he held out his hand for her to see inside the shell.

She looked down into it and saw a beautiful diamond ring .

She inhaled sharply and looked up at him in shock, mouth dropping open. "Holy shit!" She exclaimed. Laughing loudly , hand cupping her mouth as she looked between the ring and him over and over again.

Sydney laughed too , fondly . Shaking  his head at her with a amused grin "so it that a yes? Because I really love you and I really , really want to be your husband. If you'll let me.." he told her softly. Meaning each word .

Cherrie was speechless . Then benny giggled and nudged het impatiently "let him. He's gonna get me

ice cream." He told her like that was all that mattered. To him it did.

Cherrie bust into tears and threw her arms around Sydney's neck , Sydney laughing loudly as he clutched onto her just as hard .

His own tears falling down his face as he lifted her hand and slid the ring in her finger before they could lose it in the sand. The sight of his ring on her finger made them cry harder.

"I love you so much! Of course I'll marry you syd! Holy shit!" She giggled into his neck , sniffling . Overwhelmed with love for him. Because everything had changed , for the better this time.

Sydney caught bennys confused and worried look over her shoulder, the toddler making grabby hands at him . Tears filling his eyes just because they were crying too.

"Awe." He laughed emotionally while pulling benny into the cuddle too, squeezing him to him and kissing the top of his little head.

"You happy bud?" He echoed . Kissing cherries head too while she cried into his chest making him laugh.

Benny nodded his head , hugging him around his neck . "Ice cream?" He mumbled hopefully. Oblivious.

Sydney snorted "ice cream. After mommy's done crying." He told him in amusement , patting the love of his life's back as she continued to sob tears of happiness into his chest.

Take that Maxine. She thought gleefully. Who's laughing now?

Everything had changed.

[carmysgirl]

i dont know how OF works so ill do my best.

i'm going to say they don't work with each other in this. like maybe richie was talking about OF and carmen went to see what it was about. he sees sydney and he's completely in love.

he starts scrolling through her page. watching her fuck herself with dildos and edging herself with a vibrators. he especially likes a video where she's wearing this pretty green bustier top and matching panties.

the video starts with her teasing herself through her panties. when she takes her middle finger and rubs her clit through her underwear, a wet spot starts forming and carmen doesn't even notice his hand drifting closer and closer to his crotch.

when he tries to heart her video the website prompts him to make an account. through the website registration he sees he has an option to make requests if he makes a donation. suddenly he gets nervous and decides to sleep on it.

sleeping on it doesn't work though. he wakes early and sends $20 with a request to make a video wearing that emerald green lingerie set.

he goes to work absolutely wrecked. he can't stop thinking about sydney but he's so nervous. did he send enough money? will she answer? did he just scam himself? needless to say he waste no time going home and gets back on his computer to log back on.

she posted the video.

sydney is wearing the lingerie set and has a dildo beside her.

"this is for you," she says while making eye contact with the screen.

she takes the dildo and rubs along her folds through her underwear. this time carmen waste no time putting his hands in his pants and stroking his hardened cock.

sydney takes her underwear off and drips lube all around her cunt and starts fucking herself. the sounds it's making is almost too much for carmen. he spits on his cock and strokes slowly. the video is around twenty minutes long and he wants to try and last the whole time.

sydney lets out little whimpers as she sinks the dildo deeper and deeper. was that too much for her? would she be able to take carmen?

carmen tries to match her pace and strokes slowly but eventually he can't take it anymore and cums. he watches the whole video and his hand is back on his cock as he watches her ride her dildo while leaning back. it almost looks like she could be riding him.

carmen takes the rest of his night to gather himself but the next morning and the mornings after he makes more and more requests.

one day he has a message in his inbox. it's from sydney thanking him for spoiling her with his donations. he feels himself blush as he replies that it's no problem.

and that is only the beginning of their story.

im not sure if this is what you wanted. i def need to work on my writing because wtf is this pacing 😭😭

[notyourdaisybuchanan]

Let's talk about how serious this show is when it comes to visual cues and foreshadowing. How when Carmy brings Claire to the restaurant, and she interacts with Sydney, Richie, and Natalie, from their view point Claire is standing directly next to a huge piece of red tarp—a literal red flag. (To be clear, I don't think this is saying Claire herself is a red flag, but that the situation is.) She is also still standing next to it after Carmy sends them home and it is just the two of them alone.

Then we have Carmy, being looked at from Claire's perspective, with—again—a giant fucking red flag behind him. Representative of what will happen between them in the future.

We're even drawn to the red by their dialogue. "What's um, with all the green?" Claire asks, referring to the green tape showing where the stations will be. But there is no green tape visible on screen throughout this whole scene. We as the viewer see nothing but red surrounding them. To top it off, Claire is sitting on the garde manger—the cold prep. The cold prep.

And then we see Claire from Carmy's perspective when he returns after sending Fak home. She is inside what will be the kitchen while he is outside, separated by the wall, viewing each other through the window cutout. Outlined in red tape. She does not cross over–she sits, she waits. Much like in the finale, he has to move in and out of the kitchen in order to be with her.

And then the clocks—one behind Carmy, one in front of Claire: Eleventh hour. Every second counts. Ticking time bomb.

[darcyfangirlsfrequently]

My reaction to episode 3 of season 2 of Criminal Minds Evolution

Spoilers under the cut

"Are you okay?" Emily does that man LOOK okay?????

A deepfake porn site??? that's the big secret???? is anyone else a little disappointed???

Also there's no way voit could have said all that in such little time???

Luke: a secret will fracture the team and voit knows that and told me on purpose Emily: don't play his game then. just keep it a secret. Me: .... Huh?

Is... is this going to be the Ultimate Jemily Moment???? Is there some weird fake Jemily porn on this site which is why Emily is SO adamant JJ never find out and worried Luke looked???? If that is the case, Jemily fans I am so sorry

them managing to give Penelope a cat-related opening quote is honestly HILARIOUS

Oh, THIS is where Emily's wack-o neighbor comes in. Ofc. He was a conspiracy theorist after all

Bailey mention 😭😭😭

Oh so "that was fire" is about literal fire 🤣🤣

"Can I drink lighter fluid instead?" Babygirl you are so dramatic i love you. but please keep this energy toward tyler PLEASE

and we're back on the jet!!!

Luke looks physically uncomfortable keeping this a secret from JJ

I find it hard to believe Emily didn't know JJ already knew considering how close they used to be

This jj/luke friendship is SO important to me

Luke is babysitting 🤣🤣🤣

Luke is so awkward around those girls 😂😂😂

Sydney has a point...

I think Luke just wanted to watch anything BUT anime 🤣🤣🤣 otherwise he'll get upset

Fellow Girl Dad Luke truthers how we doing with this scene?? him teaching them to play soccer???

Luke is so smiley!!!! Like @lklvz said to me, his Adam Rodriguez is slipping out. he's such a dad!!!

Brian Garrity what's up my guyyy

They changed Brian's ex-wife's name???? In "Saturday" it was Patricia and now it's Sheila

Me, the second i hear the camera click: ohhhhhhhhhh shit

I need this couple to survive. They're probably not going to but oh my god she's pregnant i need them to survive

Penelope giving herself a script for a difficult phone call is such a mood

Tyler what the FUCK, man

TYLER PUT THE SYRINGE DOWN

wtf was that scene???

aaaand he cloned his cell phone TYLER FUCKING STOP

tyler texting penelope nooo

SHE SAID "NO" HAHA YESSSS

Oh Holly.... when i saw her pulling at her sleeves i though that was what was happening. Oh my heart is breaking for this poor girl.

oh i am SOBBING

yay they saved the couple!!!!

Not Tara calling Rossi old 🤣🤣🤣

"Pilates, upper-body work, a little help from SWAT" these visuals are hilarious

Tara you are so pretty when you smile

Luke definitely didn't tell JJ everything. i can TELL by his face there is more he wants to say to her

Oh my GOD poor JJ

Tyler Green if you show up at Penelope's house while she is stress-baking I'm gonna scream

godDAMMIT

And adding to the list of Luke/Tyler similarities, this pose Tyler is making against the door is the same pose Luke made against the frame of the elevator when he and Penelope had their first on-screen interaction

Go OFF Penelope

NO. SHUT UP ABOUT THE BLACK QUEEN.

Tyler is obsessed with Penelope being the black queen. Luke just... wants her to be herself. I feel an essay coming on

Brian's about to get himself fucking shot

JJ sweetie NO don't look i PROMISE you don't want to see

shaking cam slowly drawing away from JJ's face as she sees what's on screen.... three cheers for our director! I love Adam episodes. Although this is the first one with no garvez which makes me sad

aaaand now Emily's under arrest. perfect.

Brian you FUCKER

we are 3/3 so far for Emily saying "fuck" in an episode 🤣

[questionable-chnt-hc]

i hc that Sydney is the handsomest boy in the whole wide world : -)

*Feeds this into a computer and the screen makes a bunch of calculations before saying CANON in big green text*

[housedeaubemarle]

A House Call

(written with @escherstrange-ffxiv, without whom none of this would have existed in the first place)

Followed by 'A House Call: Epilogue du Oudine'.

~*~

"Sydney should be here," Joshua grumbles, adjusting the cuffs of his sleeve. 

"Probably for the best." Isillud thinks it wiser not to tell his younger brother of their brother's reply.

An hour ago:

Sydney's laugh was of a man who had suffered at the hands of House Aubemarle. It was long, sharp, and bitter. "HAHAHAHA good fucking luck," he said before the linkpearl fell silent.

Isillud's eyes narrowed at the fireplace, as if telepathically setting his brother on fire all the way at Radz-at-han. "Bitch."

"He could have given us some tips. I've never met the viscountess."

"Neither have I, Joshua." Isillud smooths his hair back, waiting for the door to open.

~*~

Marceaux, butler to House Aubemarle perhaps since the time of the Ancients, opens the door to two lanky Elezen gentlemen. 

The eye first takes in an absurdly beautiful face on the right, accompanied by well-sculpted - youthful - features on the left. Another second of scanning addresses the similar bone structures, Duskwight skin, points of ears, and builds of the pair before him. Yet a third instant notes the ruffles of cravats and shirts, unobtrusive cufflinks and neatly pointed shoes, while filing away for future reference, certain wrinkles in cloth that either point to a household without laundry maids or worse: untrained servants. 

“Our relatives, the Losstarots, are due tomorrow morning, Marceaux. We will not be home to anyone else till their visit is complete.”

“Very good, milady.”

He opens his mouth, just as the trained eye submits a fourth report: the pairs of eyes looking back at him - one impassive, one defiant - are shockingly green. 

“Good morning, gentlemen. Whom may I say is calling?”

Joshua straightens his back, clearing his throat and whipping out a card in between his fingers. “Lord Joshua Losstarot and my brother, Isillud. We are here to meet with Viscount Aubemarle."

The card is a crisp white card printed only with his name and a coat of arms. He looks as dignified and lordly as a young man due to come of age in 3 days (figuratively) can be. Isillud simply nods and smiles at the butler. 

Marceaux wordlessly and gingerly receives the tiny rectangle. He peers at it, absorbing that this is, in fact, the Lord Joshua Losstarot. Still holding the card respectfully in his gloved hands, he bows and moves aside to wave them through.

“Welcome, milords. If you would be so kind as to follow me, I will direct you to the Chantilly Room.”

He awaits acknowledgement of this, and at the briefest nod from Lord Joshua, neatly spins on his heel and walks down the hall at a moderate pace. He does not turn to see their reaction to the interior, though if one were to conduct an interview later, Marceaux would hardly dare suggest anything but satisfaction with the tasteful wallpaper of ivory striped with off-white, matching an elegant marble floor in swirling shades.  

The door of the Chantilly Room opens to, indeed, cream-coloured curtains, off-white painted walls and carpets of a darker grey-blue. Within, on a low table opposite a pale blue sofa, sits a full tea set. Along the walls are ornaments of various styles and sizes on sturdy shelves, while two painted lacquer screens stand at a corner. A gilded wall mirror completes the furnishing.

“Please make yourself at home, milords.”

Marceaux waits for a count of five, trusting their lordships to seat themselves comfortably, before he closes the door with a quiet thud. From the corner of his eye, he sees the barest whisper of a skirt and hears a stifled giggle.

He represses a sigh - and the thought that Lord Joshua’s brother’s reputation precedes itself - before quickly heading upstairs.

~*~

Being away from Ishgard for five summers has dulled their aesthetics towards interior decoration. Joshua shifts his weight, rocking back and forth on his heels. "How long do we have to wait, Izzy?"

Isillud glances at the decor, taking in the details as he walks past the ornaments, mentally placing them in their possible places of origin. "You don't ask, Joshua. You just sit and look around. Gives you an idea of what to talk about." He peers at some. "Hingan teacup. Gyr Abanian charm. If they don't travel, their friends do."

"How do you know they didn't buy it?"

"You don't buy a single teacup, Joshua." 

Joshua points to a row under the gilded mirror. "What about that miniature fan and those dancing figurines then? Took their friends long enough to realise what they liked?"

Isillud glances at the mirror, sighs, then sinks into the couch.

The wait isn’t as agonisingly long as Joshua anticipates. Barely two minutes after Isillud sits, the door opens again. 

“Good morning, my lords.”

The woman offering her greetings is tall and fair, dressed in a blouse of soothing dusty blue with gauzy bishop sleeves, and black trousers. Waves of shiny, dark brown hair have been woven into neat braids, then pinned into a singular tidy bun; bangs frame either side of her face. Clear grey eyes crinkle above a pointed nose; lips coloured an inoffensive shade of cameo pink form a warm smile. 

She stretches out a hand towards Joshua first, as is correct etiquette.

“I am Oudine de Aubemarle. I suppose we could be called cousins of sorts.”

Joshua straightens his jacket before taking Oudine's hand and barely touching his lips with it. "Joshua Lo-" he is interrupted by Isillud's cough. "-Joshua de Losstarot, a pleasure to meet you Viscount."

He steps aside for his brother. Compared to his, Isillud seems smoother, like he trained his entire youth for this moment.

"Milady." Isillud's baritone voice is like silk brushing across her hand. "Will your mother not be joining us?"

Oudine blinks. It hasn’t been that long since she’d received hand kisses as greetings, surely. Is she so accustomed to shaking hands on business that gallantry has become a surprise? 

Focus, Oudine.

She keeps smiling. “She will, in just a moment. Her toilette requires a little more attention, seeing as the sons of her longtime connections are here.” Oudine gestures to the sofa. “Please, do sit. The staff will bring some light repast by and by, so we will have to contend with tea first. I hope red tea is to your taste.”

As her guests sit, and she picks up the teapot to pour, she continues. “If you don’t mind me saying so this quickly in your visit, hearing of your reinstatement was personally gratifying. I’m glad the Holy See is making what amends it can, though perhaps,” she looks up at them, noting the arresting green gazes of both brothers. “Such hurts will take a longer time to heal.”

"I shan't lie, it's equal parts relief and resentment," Joshua replies. "We can't even give a proper funeral for our parents and grandfather, but at least we have our home back." He shoots his brother a pointed look. "Not entirely, but I'll take what I can get." 

Idillud picks up his teacup and inhales once before sipping. Leaning back against the sofa signals to Joshua he has no intention of carrying a conversation - he's only there to supervise the lord-in-training, nothing else - and so Joshua continues. "I do confess my surprise that you are the current viscount, milady." Joshua's voice is markedly younger, and with youth carries a tone of eagerness instead of nosiness. "I thought it would be your brother."

This is not a question Oudine has heard for a few years now. She takes a quick glance at Isillud, apparently absorbed in his tea. Is this the usual pattern? The older brother hanging back, the younger taking the lead? Then again, knowing what they do of Sydney, perhaps House Losstarot must needs rely on its youth. And youth, Oudine knows, requires training. 

“I’m sorry to hear of your parents and grandfather. It is… difficult, when one does not have the chance to say the goodbyes one desires.”

She gestures invitingly to the sugar bowl, lifting its lid.

“As for Remont, let us just say it has long been an unspoken understanding in our family that birth is not necessarily the best judge of headship. My father’s passing was perhaps the culmination of that understanding.”

She smiles at the young man in front of her. For a moment, she remembers her younger brother as he had been ten years ago, though perhaps Joshua has more palpable vitality. 

“I think, in that, we have something in common, Lord Joshua.”

“And what would that be, my love? Is the head of Losstarot too an insouciant younger brother?”

Oudine nearly drops the lid. She whips around to see the Dowager Viscountess herself standing in the doorway, attended by Marceaux. She is shorter than everyone present, but commands a presence that could even match the likes of Count Charlemend de Durendaire. Smooth, very pale blonde hair that borders on white is neatly put up. A wan but clearly inquisitive smile sits on her slightly wrinkled, but still clear, face, matched by a raised eyebrow. Two hands fold atop her cane, topped by a handle in the shape of a finely carved Hornbill head. 

“Mother!”

The brothers stand and bow respectfully to the Dowager. “Viscountess," they greet, though only Joshua continues. "It is good to see you well." He keeps up the smile, waiting for the Dowager's response, while Isillud tugs his gloves up, checking that he is still wearing them.

The Dowager reaches out, not towards her visitors as Oudine had, but for her daughter. Marceaux has already melted away, shutting the door.

“Well as can be, praise unto the Fury,” she says with a sigh as Oudine dutifully takes her hand and escorts her eight steps forward to a sturdy chair near the sofa. “Remember not to get old, young men - it brings too many inconveniences.”

She sits, waving at them to do the same. Then silence falls, awkward and spiky, as the Dowager seems to read the Losstarots’ very souls.

“Hrrmph,” she says at last. “Whatever he believed, at least Cletienne's eyes outlived him. And you,” she nods at Isillud, “I see la incomparable again in your face, so clearly you have your mother to thank for your looks. Though your reputation is entirely your own.”

There is a slightly louder clink of porcelain, as Oudine turns from where she’s pouring a fourth cup of tea to give her mother an inscrutable look. The Dowager, sitting upright in her chair, returns an impassive glance, then turns back again to her guests.

“Well, Lord Joshua? You’ve not answered my question. Or perhaps I should seek answers from another authority on the subject, eh Lord Isillud?”

Isillud's cup rests on the saucer with another audible clink. He opens his mouth but nothing comes out from it; Joshua starts instead.

"Isillud is well aware that his reputation would not bode well for the house; hence why it was agreed upon that I should bear the title." The younger man flashes his brightest smile, "We are much alike in that we have overstepped our more-deserving siblings to wear our mantles, Viscount." His tone dances lightly over the sunbeams spilling through the windows.

Isillud doesn't look at the pair, merely smiles as the lanky man leans into the sofa, crossing his hands on his lap. "Hmph," he softly laughs, snow white eyelashes fluttering shut.

Joshua's shoulders relax, sloping just enough to be noticeable. "You must be curious about what we've been up to over the last five summers, we would be glad to indulge your questions."

The Dowager shows no sign of relenting. “Ah, so the answer is no. Insouciance isn’t quite the description. Dear heart,” she says, looking at Oudine who has continued to drop two lumps of sugar into the delicate cup she holds. “Your brother’s carelessness evidently is an idiosyncrasy of his own. You are to be sympathised with, it seems.”

Oudine mumbles a form of non-committal reply, simultaneously giving her mother tea, and delicately removing the walking stick for the old lady’s convenience. 

Clearly, this was no longer the Viscount’s game. Though, to be fair, it hadn’t been from the moment she’d handed her mother the Losstarots’ formal letter of introduction a few weeks ago. Oudine glances again at Isillud, looking for some kind of solidarity between older siblings. 

There is none to be found. The older brother appears to be fully meditating on the merits of some otherworldly matter. It is a shame, thinks Oudine, she can’t bring herself to do the same since her mother has started speaking to Lord Joshua again.

“Is there possibly anything more dramatic than the antics of the Warrior of Light and the Scions?” asks the Dowager, carefully stirring her cup. “Did you too ride a dragon overhead into Ishgard, guns a-blazing so to speak? Do tell us from the beginning; we are all attention, Lord Joshua.”

Joshua's laugh isn't of a carefree boy - courtesy and restraint swaddle it. "If there are I'm afraid I wasn't privy to it. My story is simpler than that: Taken under the wing of a trader, I simply learned the ropes of her business. Aside from the usual cargo she offered safe passages to refugees seeking to flee the Garlean occupation, when she abandoned it after Ala Mhigo and Doma's liberation I simply abided by her decision. There are other trade avenues to pursue after all." Joshua is less careful with his tea, even a tiny slurp echoes in the room. "Crude, but it pays the bills for now."

Isillud leans forward, nudging his cup towards Oudine. "May I have more tea, milady?" When she refills his cup, slender gloved fingers brush against hers when he lifts his cup.

"Joshua needs to learn. He will be fine. Breathe easy, cousin." Emerald irises rise to her eyes, almost glowing with a divinity that vouches for him.

His cousin wonders when he had the capacity to notice her unspoken pleas for help. She decides to question it later. The intense gaze and silken touch on the hand are distractions enough (and suddenly, Oudine reaches a deeper understanding with her brother).

“If it’s learning you both sought here, then you won’t leave disappointed,” she murmurs in reply, though as she returns to stand behind her mother’s chair, her posture is slightly more at ease. 

The Dowager on the other hand, sips calmly as Joshua recites the undoubtedly summarised adventures of five years. 

“My, my. Refugees from the Garlean occupation, Ala Mhigo and Doma. Your youth belies your profound experiences, young man. And the delicacy you’ve offered in your storytelling is appreciated but unnecessary.” Her dark brown eyes go straight through Joshua. “Pray tell what your trade entails currently. Aubemarle claims acquaintance with any number of lesser houses that deal in commerce, though we ourselves do not have such businesses.”

Behind her, her daughter quietly shifts her weight; the ease dissolves from Oudine’s spine. 

Joshua's smile tightens, eyes set straight at the Dowager. He clears his throat.

"A variety of merchandise from the east. Thavnair, Garlemald, Dalmasca even. The trade routes are perilous and there is no shortage of demand from these nations." Sip. "I simply bring people what they want for a fee, I should be glad to give you our current catalogue should you wish." The legal catalogue is what goes unsaid in his explanation.

The Dowager tilts her head slightly. “‘Bringing people what they want for a fee’. What a simple explanation it is. Have you considered a different career, Lord Joshua? Perhaps a writer for one of our illustrious newspapers? Some of their pieces are so concise, they do the exact opposite of their express purpose: to inform the public. You would do perfectly, I shouldn’t wonder.”

A knock on the door interrupts the plummeting social temperature of the room. Marceaux silently glides in, bearing a tray full of small plates. Upon them are refreshments suited for a mid-morning interlude with distinguished guests: pastries that do not flake, but can be savoured in two bites, eclairs that aren’t overfilled so as not to embarrass enthusiastic eaters, finger sandwiches that make for dignified chewing.

(Thank the Fury for small mercies, thinks Oudine.)

The butler sets the silver tray down, right beside the teapot. The Dowager’s nod sends him gliding back out of the room.

“Do help yourselves, my lords,” says the Dowager smoothly.

Joshua laughs but the heat within tightens around his gut. He's running out of options to please her, and a choice reply remains at the tip of his tongue only because Isillud would likely kick him off the sofa if he said it. The introduction of desserts has done nothing for him, for he is mentally flipping through a notebook about what to do during social situations like this. Unfortunately, the book is still fresh and blank.

He turns to his brother only for him to notice two things: Firstly, Isillud has seen Marceaux. Secondly, the glint in Isillud's eye.

No, oh no you don't-

Isillud doesn't take his eyes away from the door long after the butler has left. He plucks an eclair from the plate and without so much as looking at what he's doing, places it at his lips and sucks the cream from the hole with no pretense what's on his mind.

Joshua's world crumples in on itself. If Isillud does not hide what's on his mind, neither does Joshua with a mortified expression on his face. He does the first thing he can think of to snap his brother out of his reverie: he elbows him really hard in the ribs. It works - Isillud jolts back to the room, blinking innocently at Joshua.

"What?"

Oudine de Aubemarle, with the seasoned practice of someone who has been trained to ignore that which couldn’t possibly have occurred in the drawing room of a highborn Ishgardian house, immediately speaks in her modulated, pleasant tone. 

“It is good, isn’t it? Though he is our own cook, I must personally recommend Mr Ofanleitasyn’s creations. Lord Joshua, perhaps you might like to try a sandwich.”

She walks forward swiftly, picking up one of each kind to place on a small plate, then turns back around to the Dowager. 

“I myself requested Cook to prepare these, Mother. They’re your particular favourites after all.”

The Dowager’s lips had already parted, perhaps to deliver a homily against the obvious dereliction of the world outside Ishgard and its regrettable influence on wayward young men. Something in the look she receives - hidden from view of the Losstarots - makes her put her lips back together and nod.

“Thank you, my pet. Such thoughtfulness,” she says, and even gently pats the Viscount on the cheek.

Oudine turns back, places two small sandwiches on a plate and offers it to Joshua. The smile that accompanies it, she hopes, would read as an apology and encouragement. 

He must and will learn, yes, but the older sister in her cannot help herself.

Joshua whips over to the plate of sandwiches. He opens and closes his mouth a few times before mustering weakly, "Y...yes, thank you." He shoves a sandwich into his mouth, breathing heavily through his nose. If he cannot say anything he might as well have something in his mouth for it.

A second of watching his brother's reaction later, Isillud shrugs and takes a dainty bite from his eclair. "A Roegadyn, then? How long has he been in service?"

“Oh, ever since I can remember, quite frankly,” says the Viscount. She looks to her mother, who hands the younger noble her still-full cup of tea. Oudine silently puts it back on the low table, and proceeds to pour a fresh, hot cup. 

“Mr Ofanleitasyn has been with us these last 30 years or so. One of my late husband’s many flashes of brilliance,” says the Dowager, the tone just ever so slightly more conciliatory. “He may be a Roegadyn, but his abilities produce thoroughly Ishgardian fare.”

The dark brown eyes of the lady gleam as she continues with, “If memory serves, your mother  quite enjoyed a variant of Dzemael Gratin he made once in the past. I believe she was carrying your eldest brother at the time, and so could not attend one of our dinners. Seeing as it was her first pregnancy, she could not help but be cautious. We had a dish delivered over to her, and she returned a most gracious note of thanks.” She pauses a moment. “La Incomparable had excellent taste.”

The Dowager receives the new cup of tea from her daughter with an arched eyebrow. There. Happy? It seems to say.

Yes, returns the answering smile of Oudine.

Chewing slowly, Joshua blinks at the story. "Huh, I didn't know that. Did you know that, Izzy?"

Isillud doesn't answer; he narrows his eyes at the Dowager, lips thinned into a single line. Her words have stirred him though he clenches his fists and says nothing.

It felt like a slap, that this woman of distant relation would have a vivid story to tell of their mother. A reminder of their place: If only she knew what has become of her children. One a swindler, the other a harlot. And you dare show your face around Ishgard? For shame.

Isillud finishes his eclair and wipes his fingers on a handkerchief. "Come, Joshua. We have tarried enough."

"Huh? But we just started-" The look on his brother's face shuts him up. "Thank you for your hospitality. It was a pleasure meeting you both, we shall call upon your house in the near future."

He gives a quick bow and jogs after Isillud, who doesn't even bother with niceties as he heads for the door.

The Dowager silently watches the rapid departure of both young men with unexpected calmness, even having the presence of mind to set her teacup down on the table. 

Beside her, Oudine is less able to control herself. “What-”

“Oudine.”

She looks at the Dowager, surprise - and since they’re alone, some hurt - in her face. “Mamma?”

The old lady reaches out, and instinctively, her daughter clasps her hand.

“I know I promised never to interfere in your dealings as Viscount. But I ask you to trust me when I tell you: do not run out to seek an explanation from them, at least for the present. Will you, dearest?”

Oudine purses her lips. Part of her is itching to do exactly that - to demand an answer, if not resolution, for this abrupt end to a visit she had had every intention of helping along. People she trusted had warned her, gently, about the possibility of these being impostors, of interlopers stealing the noble name of Losstarot, and the resulting connection to the Aubemarles. They had asked her to be extra cautious, knowing that the current Viscount de Aubemarle was inclined to see the better side of others, sometimes wishing to be right, rather than knowing she was right. She had wanted, dearly, to prove them wrong, to be able to say - firmly - that the new head of Losstarot is genuine, and that their claims are true. She still does.

The other part - the one which has seen her mother work what could only be magic on the dizzying social circles of Ishgard’s lesser houses, which has witnessed the Dowager Viscountess call on, and call out, rival houses no less powerful or influential than they, without batting an eyelash - makes her grip her mother’s hand tighter.

Finally, she asks, almost demands. “Did you tell that story of their mother on purpose? Did you aim at Lord Isillud?” Neither woman hears the front door of the house slam shut. The rooms are too well-built.

“If I aim at anything, which I will pretend to understand for the moment, logic dictates I ought to aim at the head sitting right before me,” says the Dowager. “No, dearest. My intention had been to give those boys a memory they could not have had; a keepsake now that they must step into their elders’ shoes.” 

She looks back at the yawning doorway of the Chantilly Room. 

“I forget that the young - especially young, “resentful” prodigals - may not look as kindly on memories as those of my age.”

After a moment, the old lady frowns. “House de Aubemarle can only claim to be far relations. There are others who are closer cousins, in higher places, and with even more accounts of the Losstarots as they once were. Lord Isillud will need stronger armour. And more flesh on his bones, if he intends to remain in this city.” 

Oudine cannot help wanting a complete diagnosis. “And Lord Joshua needs…?”

Her mother snorts. “Time. And more polish in his address.”

Oudine shakes her head, before realising what the Dowager had said. She takes in a deep breath, releases it. “You were listening outside the door when I first entered the room, weren’t you?” 

The Dowager makes no answer, merely returning the grip on her daughter’s hand. The Viscount can only sigh, and finally sits down for the first time since she’d welcomed the Losstarots to their home. 

Still clinging to her mother’s hand, she says consideringly, “You believe them to be real then. They are the long-lost Losstarot sons, now returned.”

The Dowager looks surprised. “Of course, dear heart. No charlatan worth their salt would have stormed out so violently.”

A wave of tired regret washes over Oudine and she closes her eyes. “Then we have given offence to our own. And it involves their mother.” She opens them again to stare at the ceiling. “How on earth can we make amends?”

“My sweet girl, ever forgiving. Thus is the discourtesy already forgotten.”

Oudine lets herself frown, obviously and deeply frustrated, at her mother. It’s been a very long morning, no matter that the fiasco had really only lasted for all of fifteen minutes or less.

The Dowager smiles. “You are Viscount de Aubemarle. You will think of something. Besides,” she nods at her daughter. “You have their calling card, do you not?”

Oudine slips her free hand (it’s also annoying how she doesn’t even want to let go of her mother, despite everything) into a trouser pocket. She pulls out the innocuous white card Marceaux had given her, and stares at it.

“...hmm.”

As the Viscount thinks and plans, the Dowager leans forward towards the table. She picks up an eclair, snorts at a thought that has just occurred to her, and takes a delicate bite.

~*~

It is three days later, when there is a knock on the door of the Losstarots’ residence.

Ser Drouhont, Temple Knight-turned-steward, all of 7 fulms (possibly more) and pitch black skin opens the door. "Good morning. Whom shall I say is calling?" The wind whips his long hair about, thankfully long and heavy enough that it doesn't obscure his face.

Before this very impressive figure stand two Elezens, both in the livery of House Aubemarle. The darker skinned one wearing a small pair of gold-rimmed glasses on his face bows respectfully. The grace of his movement is unhampered by the neatly wrapped parcel in his arms. Beside him, a very lovely black-haired maid with dark eyes dips in a polite curtsey, a clearly laden basket despite its cloth covering, in hand.

“No one, sir. We are only here to present my lady Viscount Aubemarle’s compliments, and seek your goodness to deliver them to your master,” says the bespectacled footman in an even tone.

"My masters are unfortunately currently indisposed, but I would be glad to hand it over to them."

The footman bows again. “Thank you, we are most obliged.” He offers the brown paper parcel, secured by twine, to the steward first, before taking the basket from his colleague to hand it over as well. “Good morning to you,” he says with a last bow. The maid curtsies and follows the footman’s lead to go. 

They’ve only gone a few steps when, right before Ser Drouhont closes the door, the maid turns back to call out with a brilliant smile: “Don’t ignore the box at least! It’d be a terrible waste!” 

Drouhont hooks the basket on the crook of his arm, watching the servants leave with a confused look on his face. Within the house, Joshua leans over the banister halfway down the stairs. "Who was it?"

"Compliments from House Aubemarle with a reminder to not ignore the box." He looks at the twine-wrapped parcel with the same impassive face and flat tone. "T'would be a waste to do so." 

That makes the younger elezen curious enough to take the parcel off Drouhont's hands and set it on the dining table. Drouhont puts the basket nearby, turning the cloth over to reveal its contents.

"Let's see what we have here…" Joshua muses, unfolding a blade from a pocket and starts cutting the twine.

"Oh-"

Joshua stops. "What?"

"Twine can be reused…I could use it to wrap my paintings…"

Joshua simply stares at his steward. He should be used to the man's airy comments by now but he was unpredictable when he wanted to. He shakes his head and continues demolishing the wrapper to get at the contents within.

Brown paper crinkles and rustles, falling away to reveal a perfectly square but good-sized, black, lacquered box. On its lid, a spray of flowers blooming from a shapely bough, made of inlaid mother-of-pearl, grows from the bottom corner. Closer inspection easily reveals that the box is made up of three layers and the mild sweet fragrance of baked goods begins to waft upwards. A thick looking packet sits against the box, along with a thinner, lighter envelope. On both, small wax seals, no doubt from a signet ring, bear the crest of House Aubemarle.

In the basket’s case, its contents are less enigmatic. Fresh fruit of various kinds sit within: Coerthan and mirror apples, La Noscean oranges, Lowland grapes, Pixie plums, even a few lemonettes. There is also a singular pineapple, most of its spiky crown carefully cut off for convenience. In the midst of such vibrant colours, the stark white of a small card stands out.

Not even Joshua can resist the allure of freshly baked goods. "She wasn't kidding about her cook," he says as he picks up the packet and envelope, using the blade to pry the seal open.

Meanwhile Drouhont removes the fruit from the basket and sorts it into an artful arrangement, mumbling to himself, "A fine still-life subject for a painting…Master Joshua, there is a card inside here too." He passes the card firmly held between his fingers to his lord, who now has three things to read.

The thin envelope contains a single-sided letter with the crest of House Aubemarle emblazoned in the top centre of the page. In other words, the official letterhead of the Viscount. The handwriting beneath is neat and evenly spaced, flowing in black ink.

-

To Lord Joshua de Losstarot, head of House Losstarot, & Lord Isillud de Losstarot,

I give greeting to my cousins both, and present our apologies for this late letter.

To come straight to the point, we ask forgiveness for treading upon sacred ground without care. While it is not lost upon us how hollow that may ring after what has transpired, please believe that it is meant sincerely. 

What we should have conveyed that day, but did not, is simply this: words do not suffice for how your house has suffered great losses, in many respects. House de Aubemarle has no power to bring back what was, but we will assist - if you are willing, and should need it - in building what will be. The accompaniments to this letter are more concrete tokens of our friendship.

I hope we shall meet again in future, in more fortuitous circumstances. Belatedly, and truly, we welcome our cousins Losstarot back to Ishgard. 

Yours sincerely,

Oudine de Aubemarle, Viscount Aubemarle.

-

Out of the thicker packet comes a small collection of papers and stiffer cards of varying sizes.

One of the cards is an elegantly decorated invitation. The space for recipients has been filled in by hand: Lord Joshua de Losstarot and Lord Isillud de Losstarot are requested for the pleasure of their company at a formal ball at the mansion of House Maintigny in a month’s time. Lady Oisinne de Maintigny is to be addressed should they accept or decline the invitation.

Yet another invitation, on a marginally smaller card but no less elegant, also requests the pleasure of the lords Losstarot’s company, this time at a musical concert, intended to showcase the talents of the newest protege of the Dowager Viscountess Philomene de Aubemarle. It is to be held at the Saint Llafymae Rooms in a fortnight, with acceptances or declines to be addressed to her ladyship at the Aubemarle manor.

Much smaller in size are four narrow tickets. Identically printed on them are admittances to the latest theatrical sensation of Ishgard, Cant and Candour. The tickets read that they are specifically for box seats on any night while the play is performed.

A folded note comes next, unsealed, so it can be opened to read, in the same ink and handwriting as in the longer letter: ‘The Viscount Aubemarle presents her compliments to the manager of the Lightfeather Proving Grounds, and with great pleasure, wishes to make known to your goodself my lords Losstarot, newly returned to Ishgard. Kindly make them welcome at the usual box whensoever they desire.’  

Yet another sheet of paper similar in thickness to the note contains the simple name and address of Etoilier at the very top. Underneath the letterhead is a message from its proprietress who is delighted to know that their chance meetings in the past could be continued in a more formal fashion. Etoile Wintour reassures her lordships that new suits will be ready in good time before the Maintigny ball, and invites them both for fittings in three weeks. Though there is not much fear there since she already has their precise measurements. She presents her compliments and looks forward to their appointments.

And lastly, the smallest of the ‘accompaniments’ is a white business card. Upon it is printed ‘Marlstone Chocobos’ with an address in Ishgard below it, and another address in Tailfeather on a third line. Flexing it under the light reveals an embossed off-white crest in the upper right corner, that of House de Aubemarle. When turned over, there is a third handwritten message, in the same neat handwriting and the same black ink: 

For any reason, if you are ever in need of a fast bird, bring this to the Marlstone office here. If in Dravania, seek out Remont. You will be given one of our finest, no questions asked, no charge. - O.A.

Once the detailed contents of the packet are perused, the last small card from the fruit basket is almost comical in its simplicity. The writing is in brown ink, and a cursive script far different from all the handwriting earlier. The message is brief:

You’ve only just begun. Eat, then fight.

Joshua shuffles through the cards growing increasingly perplexed. "Oh gods, there are so many events; do these people not do anything except socialize?!"

"That is indeed what they do, Master Joshua," Drouhont answers, carefully stacking the apples into a 3D pyramid. "Networking is very important in Ishgardian high society if you wish to remain relevant. Even a soldier of middling rank is expected to be present at the Forgotten Knight once a week at least."

"Drouhont, I can't attend all these on my own." He fans out the theatre tickets. "There are four tickets here and I don't appreciate music as much as…" His eyes follow the stairs, "Him."

"It matters not which Losstarot attends…only that one does." Drouhont frames his arrangement with his fingers, moving a fruit an ilm to the right to adjust.

"In case you have forgotten," Joshua's voice rises. "The other Losstarot is currently drowning in self-pity with only a blanket to maintain his modesty."

"You seem certain he'll always be crushed by the weight of the expectations he's failed, milord."

The younger elezen sighs, turning his attention to the box. He opens each tray to find out what's inside.

The first layer is a jigsaw puzzle of pastries: danishes, butter croissants, apple tarts, jam tarts, even a fig pastry or two to complete the picture. All have been made specially to fit the size of the box, and to be eaten in a single bite.

The second layer opens up to heavier stuff: currant scones give off a delightful scent of butter and sugar; slices of mille-feuille are artfully dusted with fine sugar and cocoa powder; a row of simple pain au chocolat sits with gleaming golden-brown skins.

The third and last layer is filled with nothing but eclairs, covered in chocolate icing.

Joshua twitches visibly at the tray of eclairs; he considers pushing it aside and bringing up only the first layers but changes his mind and slots the small card from the fruit basket among the eclairs before closing it up and lugging it upstairs. "Drouhont, bring the fruits up- on second thought, do as you like with those."

He kicks the door open; the crow roosting at Isillud's head caws in surprise and hops up to the headboard. Etienne turns and raises his eyebrow just slightly. Joshua Losstarot puts the box loudly on the side table and roughly yanks his brother's shoulder over to face him.

"Wake up, Izzy. You have a society to impress."

Isillud stares blankly through dull green eyes. Joshua removes the last tray and puts it in front of him. "See this? The dowager acknowledges you. Mother would've been proud." The crow tilts its head at the baked delicacies, plucking an eclair and gliding over to Etienne's work desk to pass to him.

Joshua grips his brother's chin between his fingers; the Fury lives in his voice, in the determination writ across his face. "You want expectations to live up to? Live up to the lord of House Losstarot's. Live up to mine."

╔═════ஓ๑♥๑ஓ═════╗ 

        end 

╚═════ஓ๑♥๑ஓ═════╝

[blackfemmecharacterdependency]

All the Black Femmes || The Walking Dead

I really didn’t do tags for all of the uncredited and/or one time appearances, and I ONLY used IMDB for the set, so if they didn’t have a photo on there, I didn’t include. Still wanted to put them on the list though.

Similar to the Star Wars ATBF POST, I’ve provided the BFCD links to the characters that are featured on the blog and also the actresses playing the roles, if I found any content for them. I didn’t bother with the nameless characters, as I definitely didn’t have the energy to search for their content in the various TWD tags, but I still included the links to their tags for this blog, in case you’d like to see their faces again (since most likely their The Walking Dead portrayal didn’t get a lot of screen time).

Characters with existing content:

Annie | Arat | Bertie | Connie | Cyndie | Jacqui | Max | Michonne | Nabila | Nora | Sasha 

Wikis for those who I couldn’t find content for:

Briana | Dr. Stevens | Jeanette | Jenny Jones (Morgan’s Wife) | Jocelyn | Maya (Alexandria, Listed only as “Woman” on IMDB) | Maya (Meridian) | Sally | Vickers | Zia 

BFCD Links to The Stars: Content will be added as becomes available

Danai Gurira | Sonequa Martin Green | Lauren Ridloff | Angel Theory | Elizabeth Faith Ludlow | Medina Senghore | Tamara Austin | Nadine Marisa | Margot Bingham | Karen Ceesay | Sydney Park | Jeryl Prescott | Rutina Wesley | Donzaleigh Abernathy | Brianna Butler | Yvette Nicole Brown | Ciera Payton | Sharon Conley | Shellita Boxie |

[saltedsolenoid]

sydney what if i threw you in a mirror and showed you your evil self

[Testimony recorded at 11:54 post meridiem]

"Well, I'd like to say that I've always had an interesting relationship with mirrors," the author starts, "it's been a mix of fear and repulsion my whole life, but with a... err- how to put this- terrified respect. Like the kind that you'd give a bishop as you knew he held you in decent standings, scared that one wrong thought and he'd ruin you eternally.

I grew up myself as not religiously superstitious, but instead personally terrified. I let into these sort of compulsions to keep myself from falling off whatever path I thought eight year-old me was on. I refused extra food on Sundays, couldn't hold the screen door open and instead passed through it in one movement in fear of some unknown entity entering the house, and worst of all, had a special agreement with mirrors. Unwritten, unshared, existing purely within myself.

Couldn't make eye contact with my reflection. Couldn't touch it without a chill on my own self. Couldn't use it to encourage sin-- whatever that means. Couldn't speak into the mirror, couldn't allow it to echo back to me. Most importantly, I couldn't let two mirrors reflect into one another.

I heard that last rule from a conversation I was listening in on at school. Without questioning it, I adopted the precept as nothing but absolute truth.

Was it terrifying? Not in the moment. They were ordinary, child-made rules. Almost like a game. That was, I'd say, until I broke one.

As a child, my best quality was definitely my ability to follow rules. Growing up in a cult gives you that much, at least. So, it took almost a year of this "game" to [heh] shatter the glass, wherein I broke a menial rule- I made eye contact.

My eyes are green. Almost scarily so. I inherited it from my mother, I want to say, but I've never seen my father's eyes, so I can't confirm anything. Staring into those sea-green eyes- disregarding the fact I've never seen the sea- I was terrified. Almost frozen, shaking, I couldn't bring myself to move. I could swear I felt something being dragged out of me, forcefully, dripping away from my heart in globs.

But I was a child. I couldn't face the mirror, so I ran away and 'healed,' still with terror in my heart, I didn't tell a soul. I looked away from the plainly framed mirror in the bathroom in the house I lived at every time I passed by.

The largest offender to my mirror's ruleset came when I was a bit older, though. About 10. I felt by then that I'd grown up so much. I had started branching out, making connections. I was at a house... don't remember who it belonged to, but they were... rich. Or at least better-off than I was.

Still young, I got exhausted quickly. I stepped out about 45 minutes, saying I had to use the restroom. I was excused.

A smaller powder-room was positioned on the first floor of the house. Meant for guests, it was intricately designed, organized to maximize space and create theme- I knew this because 10 was around the age I started learning about design.

The centerpiece, though, was easily the vanity sink mirror. It was a dark brown with golden highlights, and in the present I'm unsure whether it was mass-manufactured or a familial artifact. Was I scared of it? A bit. It was much taller than I was at the time, and of course-- a mirror.

I examined the room to the best of my ability. I was observant about these things, making sure nobody was watching. But there was. I saw my own reflection reflecting itself- a mirror mounted above my head.

The penultimate sin was committed.

I stared in the two repeating mirrors, likely in shock. I don't remember much after that... I've always had an issue with amnesia.

But when two mirrors reflect into one another, they become greener and greener, until all you can see is a sea-like reflection of nothing, or what could be hell.

The same green as my eyes."

[End of testimony.]

[powwowstudio]

A Thriving Hub Down Under: Exploring Film Studios in Australia

Australia, often celebrated for its stunning landscapes and unique wildlife, is not just a travel destination but has also emerged as a prominent hub for the global film industry. In particular, film studios in Australia have garnered attention for their world-class facilities and contributions to the cinematic landscape. This article delves into the cinematic prowess of Australia, focusing on film studios in Sydney, with a spotlight on the state-of-the-art green screen studios that have become integral to the filmmaking process.

Film Studios in Sydney:

The vibrant capital of New South Wales, is home to several renowned film studios Sydney that have played pivotal roles in the creation of blockbuster movies and critically acclaimed productions. Fox Studios Australia, located in Moore Park, stands out as a major player in the Australian film industry. With state-of-the-art sound stages, post-production facilities, and an array of services, it has become a go-to destination for both local and international filmmakers.

Green Screen Studios in Sydney:

The use of green screen technology has become a staple in modern filmmaking, enabling filmmakers to transport their audiences to fantastical worlds and push the boundaries of creativity. Sydney boasts a variety of green screen studios, each offering unique features that cater to the diverse needs of filmmakers.

Green Screen Sydney: A Haven for Creativity:

One of the leading green screen studios in Sydney is aptly named Green Screen Sydney. Situated in the heart of the city, this studio provides filmmakers with a versatile space equipped with cutting-edge green screen technology. From small-scale productions to large-scale blockbusters, Green Screen Sydney caters to a range of projects, offering a seamless canvas for filmmakers to unleash their creative visions.

Innovative Facilities at Green Screen Studio:

Another notable player in the green screen scene is the Green Screen Studio, which sets itself apart with its innovative facilities. Boasting advanced lighting setups and customizable green screen configurations, this studio provides filmmakers with the tools needed to bring their imaginations to life. The studio's commitment to technological excellence has made it a preferred choice for those looking to push the boundaries of visual storytelling.

[xchemoni]

Pitchfork’s Album Review on “Embrya” by Maxwell

“ The reissue of Maxwell’s second album from 1998 showcases the mercurial spirit that followed the R&B auteur down new, aqueous corridors.

In 2011, during the filming of his “VH1 Storytellers” episode, Maxwell attempted to describe his second album, 1998’s Embrya, and its uneasy position in his discography, the way it wriggles away from the more concrete and clarified R&B statements that surround it. “It’s one of those records where you’re like, ‘Should I have done that or should I have not done that record?’,” he said, seeming to pose the question to his own audience.

When Maxwell arrived on radio and MTV in 1996, he brought a sound back with him, the quietly storming soul music of the late-’70s and early-’80s, a genre that could hover politely in the air between neighbors at a cookout or totally collapse the air between two people in a bedroom. His debut, Maxwell’s Urban Hang Suite, modeled itself after records like Marvin Gaye’s I Want You, linked sequences of seduction that either blossomed toward or shrank away from the possibility of love; it eventually sold two million copies and earned Maxwell a Grammy nod.

Now he wanted the sound he had pulled from the past to follow him and bend around whichever corner he turned. As he told the Sydney Morning Herald in 2016, “What I did with [Embrya], on purpose, was that it was the anti-Afro ’70s funk-soul record.” He resisted the notion that his music could be pinned down and examined, and he seemed to want to write music that could circulate forever, that slipped away from any attempt to capture it, like a wave of water or an anxious thought. The songs he wrote for Embrya respond to this inner stubbornness, loosen themselves from their points, spread and pale like watercolors. It was as if had he had opened a window in his urban hang suite and the ocean poured in.

Made primarily as a reaction to his own debut album, Embrya has few previous models for its itself. It is the only R&B record I’ve ever heard that’s submerged as it is. (Even the Sade records that producer Stuart Matthewman worked on periodically come up for air.) At an hour long, it spills itself across four sides of vinyl on its new reissue, released on the occasion of the album’s 20th anniversary. It can be difficult to focus on its individual hooks; they rear up and break apart like waves in bottomless lakes of songs. Flamenco guitar solos ripple and die off like pulses on a radar screen. Strings stir and resettle like clouds of silt at the bottom of an aquarium.

There’s simply not enough water metaphors on this green earth to describe Embrya. This is by design; few R&B albums, let alone albums in general, embody the liquid rush of desire as completely as it does. Maxwell’s piercing tenor is double-tracked so often that even its edges seem watery, and his lyrics crumble from the direct romanticism of Urban Hang Suite into impressions and feelings that aren’t necessarily certain of what they are; he sings words like “plush” and “blush” almost interchangeably, and they melt away in pale petals of near-meaning.

As each song wades gradually from chord to chord, it grows harder to determine one’s position in them, whether at their middles or near their ends or slipping away into new, just-forming instrumentals, as when “Matrimony: Maybe You”—a pop-jazz track smooth and untroubled as the skin of a pebble—narrowly forks into a funk workout called “Arroz con Pollo.” Which isn’t to suggest the sound of the album is uniform; its songs are as various and vivid in their depth charges of color as Monet’s “Water Lilies,” which he painted as his vision was failing and the world itself was melting into streaks of color. There are indeed verses and choruses on Embrya; there’s a deep mysterious pull in the groove of “Luxury: Cococure” from which the chorus seems to bubble upward. “Drowndeep: Hula” is one of Maxwell’s tenderest yet murkiest ballads; if its drumbeat were a little slower and dilated it might’ve produced an early draft of Massive Attack’s “Teardrop” instead. “Gravity: Pushing to Pull” finds Maxwell descending to a pressurized depth, his voice riven with low distortions. But as Embrya advances it can feel just as often like a lens is dwelling over different gatherings of sound—hands swimming up the keys of a synthesizer, basslines played so flexibly they’re invertebrate—briefly snapping them into focus before they sink back into the texture of the record.

In this way Embrya somewhat foreshadows D’Angelo’s 2000 masterpiece Voodoo, both artists searching for something even beyond the outer limits of their debut albums, both records achieving something close to perpetual motion in the slow circulation of their grooves. But where Voodoo stretches time out until it’s crisp and brittle, Embrya’s time feels thick and immeasurable and seems to pass in gradual stirrings, the liquid counterpoint to Voodoo’s spare, desiccated funk. It’s an album of traceless, amnesiac swellings, never seeming to quite know where it’s going or where it’s just been, flowing without ever seeming aware of its flowing, which is its truly remarkable achievement. According to Maxwell, Embrya is “a story that unfolds,” but it’s impossible to pick up a single thread of it and follow it to its original source; it’s all source, a concept album in which there is no concept, just feelings, impressions, intimacies and their absences, wave after wave after unending wave of them.”

Original review

[sydswccn]

as far as she recalled, sydney has always been a friendly person, which is why it wasn't surprising that she got on well with her co-stars. while she was well aware that she was only of the few lucky ones that was able to call her dream job her actual job, she thought that working was better when surrounded by the right people. due to the projects she'd been part of, which she was grateful for, she got to know amazing and talented human beings whom she'd learnt a lot from -- and glen was one of those people.

sydney couldn't truly remember how or why they ended up forming such a solid friendship, but they did. they had a chemistry that went beyond the screen -- so much so that said chemistry ended up turning into some sort of complicity, a partnership that became almost crucial in order to survive long hours in set. therefore, she wasn't shocked to hear all sort of rumors spreading about the two of them. sydney found them funny as hell and didn't take them seriously at all. if anything, she was happy that the audience seemed to like the movie they did together -- and hopefully that'd mean she'd get to work in more projects with glen in the future.

once promo season was over, syd felt herself missing glen's company, so the moment he gave her the green light to hang out, she didn't hesitate. as promised, she made sure to bake them the lemon meringue cupcakes that he wanted to try and also got brisket the spare toothbrush they'd joked about -- mostly because she needed to see the little guy up to no good. she was excited to see him again after awhile, and she knew it'd distract her from the fact that she'd be hosting saturday night live a couple of days later -- she was extremely nervous, to say the least. sydney texted glen to tell him she was on her way, and it didn't take long to arrive at his place. once she'd parked her car, she walked up to his doorstep and rang the bell -- not before grabbing the tupperware containing the cupcakes. @gtpowell

[pitheinfinite]

DigiFashion Forum 2023

Hihi, sorry for being away for so long. I've been working my a*s off lately 'cause I'm helping a friend to host an online forum. The event will be live stream on Youtube on March 29, well, in 6 hrs! XD. I just don't have time to write a decent tumblr post.😑😑😑

We have invited several outstanding leaders in the industry to share their insights on digital fashion. As a veteran TS3 player, I personally find this quite interesting. What we put on our sims is now something people have their avatars wear in Metaverse and it could be something duplicating/inspired by the real fashion world or something we can never have in reality. If you find what I wrote interesting, you might wanna join the event.

Check out the official site for further details and register (a simple process to help us screen the audience on the YT steam, and it's completely free of charge!) This event is not limited to industrial professionals. Anyone wants to know more about this emerging trend is welcome to join. See you then! 😉

Speaker overview:

Leslie Holden (Co-Founder The Digital Fashion Group, Brussel/BEL)

Beata Wilczek (Founder Unfolding Strategies, Berlin/GER)

Kun-Chou Tsai (Managing Partner Enlighten Law Group, Taipei/TW)

Olska Green (Founder & Designer Ecoolska, Lisbon/POR)

Rene Fang (CEO iStaging, Taipei/TW)

Jens Laugesen (Design & Creative Director Jens Laugesen, London/UK)

Sean Chiles (Co-Founder The Digital Fashion Group, Tábua /POR)

Dr. Roger Ng (Honorary Chairman Hong Kong Chinese Textile Mills Association/CHI)

Florence Lu (Associate Professor Shih Chien University, Taipei/TW)

René Petrevski (Business Development Manager STYLE Protocol, Berlin/GER)

Cheua-Hei Chan (Co-Founder Aurar, Berlin/GER)

Nico Owsianowski (Co-Founder Aurar, Berlin/GER)

Urja Kumbhare (Co-Founder & Director Opulentia Designs LLP, Mumbai/IND)

Hena Venugopal (CEO Envied Futur, Coppell, Texas/USA)

KC Man (Founder Virtual Touch Group Limited, Hong Kong/CHI)

Claire Chang (Founder Techmoi.com, Taipei/TW)

Jackaline Tang (Gaming Partnerships Manager Brand New Vision, Hong Kong/CHI)

Event Time:

March 29, 2023 14:00 UTC+8 (Taipei, Hong Kong, Singapore, …) March 29, 2023 17:00 UTC+11 (Sydney) March 29, 2023 15:00 UTC+9 (Tokyo) March 29, 2023 13:00 UTC+7 (Bangkok, Jakarta, …) March 29, 2023 11:30 UTC+5:30 (New Delhi) March 29, 2023 07:00 UTC+1 (London) March 29, 2023 08:00 UTC+2 (Berlin, Paris, …) March 29, 2023 02:00 UTC-4 (New York) March 28, 2023 23:00 UTC-7 (Los Angeles)

[dead-petey-au]

CHAPTER ONE!!

Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/1349345920

Archive of our Own: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47794792/chapters/121776436

The images used in this chapter (drawn by me):

“A ringing in her head caught the calico's attention. Or.. was it in her head? She looked over at a flip phone on the table. It was mostly black with gray details, white buttons and a green-colored screen.

It was vibrating and making a ringing noise, signifying someone was calling. Who would be calling this late at night?? She thought confusingly.”

———

“It was even better than before. Clusters of stars and fellow solar systems danced across the sky, as if they were dancing for the moon, which was as bright as a ruler of a kingdom.”

———

“Sydney walked over to the door, LS directly behind her. She opened it to find a face she hoped to not see for the rest of her life.”