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ireturn1day · 7 months

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#street photography #original photographers #streetphoto #streetphotography #typography #photographers on tumblr #black and white #ishootjpg #fujijpg #sooc

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2janine · 2 months

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Macro abstract flower photography.

#photographers on tumblr #photography #flowers #canon #natural light #sooc #macro photography #abstract

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bubblesorbubbles · 3 months

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Mental Gym

Fujicolor Super HG v2

#travelling #street #chess #chessboard #winter #snow #baku #boulevard #fujifilm #xt5 #sooc #fujicolor #films simulation #photographer on tumblr

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gfxced · 5 months

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What a week.

#straight out of camera #sooc

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phdmama · 10 months

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Drarry vignette, ~580 Words, G gentle reminder, I prefer that people do not extend or finish my vignettes without talk to me first! Thank you so much!

From the Soft™ fic prompt meme: ‘it made me think of you.’

The pounding on his front door startles Harry so badly that he falls off the couch.

It’s one of those lovely early summer days, warm enough that he can have all the windows open but not so warm as to be uncomfortable. There’s a nice breeze, Harry had a particularly delicious sandwich for lunch, and he had, until this moment, been taking a lovely nap on his extremely comfortable couch.

How quickly life can change, Harry thinks mournfully. One moment you’re having a really good dream about cheese and the next moment you’re here, flat on your back on the dusty carpet.

There’s another round of pounding, so Harry sighs, gets to his feet, and goes to answer it.

Standing on his doorstep, looking particularly rageful, is Draco Malfoy, who shoves a large, lumpy, tabloid-wrapped package into Harry’s hands.

“Don’t make this into a thing,” he says mulishly, and then folds his arms and refuses to make eye contact.

Harry looks down at the package and then back to Draco, who’s now staring up at the sky as if it’s personally offended him.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I said.” Malfoy sighs. “Don’t make this into a thing.”

“Um.” Harry wonders if he’s still asleep. “Do you want me to, err… Should I open this?”

“If you want,” Malfoy mutters, which clearly means yes, so Harry does, rips off the newsprint and tosses it behind him into the hallway.

It takes him a moment to understand what he’s looking at, but when he does, his breath catches in his throat.

“Malfoy,” Harry whispers and blinks rapidly. “What? How did you…”

“Pansy and I were antiquing,” which Harry knows actually means they were combing through the thrift shops at the far end of Diago, “and I saw it. It made me think of you.”

“How did you know?”

Several years ago, Harry’s flat had flooded, and he’d lost most of his possessions, including the leather motorcycle jacket he’d claimed from Sirius’ few belongings right after the war. Harry still has the motorbike, but he’d lost everything else. The jacket he’s is holding isn’t identical, but it’s so close, slightly battered black leather, heavy silver snaps and zippers. It’s even got the same deep crimson lining and the faintest whiff of masculine cologne. It’s not Sirius’s, it can’t possibly the same, but it’s close. Close enough.

Malfoy shrugs awkwardly. “I just remember hearing you talk about it one night at the pub. You were pretty upset.”

“Malfoy,” Harry begins, his mind spinning, “That has to have been five years ago.”

Malfoy’s eyes narrow. “I told you,” he says, and it’s weirdly threatening for someone in the midst of carrying out one of the kindest and most thoughtful gestures Harry’s ever been on the receiving end of, “you need to not make, like, a thing about this.”

Harry stares down at the jacket, rubs a thumb over the heavy buckle at the waist. Thinks some things over. Recalibrates some other things. Finally, he looks up and takes in the sight of Malfoy, cheeks flushed, hands in his pockets, chewing nervously on his lip. Malfoy, who remembered something important to Harry from years ago. Malfoy, who, Harry would bet, has been looking for a jacket like this ever since. Malfoy, on his doorstep, just to give him a gift, looking pissed off about it.

“Draco,” Harry says and Draco’s gaze snaps up to meet Harry’s own. Harry steps back, pushes the door open wider. “Do you want to come in?”

#my writing #tiny little vignette #Drarry vignette #the only way I know how to do fluff honestly #not really a microfic #but my own version of a microfic #sooc #aka not beta'd #if you enjoy'd I'd be so grateful for a reblog!

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endless-stateless · 7 months

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@of-saudade, Athens, September '23.

Fujifilm X-T30ii with a variety of lenses.

#sooc #jpeg #fujixt30ii #portrait #diylens

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bestseasonsoflife · 9 months

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Winter by Berit Sundman

#Winter #snow #frost #trees #fog #dimma #nature #landscape #light #shadows #sooc #Åland #flickr

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zylochrome · 4 months

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trainmaniac · 1 year

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Locomotive by f//stop

#CSX #Train #Canon #EF-S #17-55 #2.8 #SOOC #Canon EF-S 17-55mm f/2.8 IS USM #flickr

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cybergus · 2 years

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Experimentando con Bleach Bypass (SOOC), Ciudad de México (Agosto 2022)

¿Alguna vez han pensado que todas las estéticas futuristas, en este caso la cyberpunk, encajan perfecto dentro de la Hauntología?.

La Hauntología se podría definir como “el anhelo de un futuro que nunca llegó” (término acuñado por Jack Derrida). Creo que la mayoría de ustedes vio Back to the Future 2 o Bladerunner. En Back to the Future 2, nuestro personaje principal, McFly, viaja al 2015 y ya existen patinetas que flotan, autos que vuelan, tenis que se abrochan solos y chamarras que se secan automáticamente. En Bladerunner, el futuro distópico se plantea en el año 2019 con vehículos que vuelan y replicantes(androides) que trabajan en otros planetas.

Pues nada, lo que ahora vemos circular en Tumblr, Instagram y otros tantos medios, es esa nostalgia o anhelo por un futuro que nunca llegó, valga mencionar que la Hauntología justamente conecta a los fantasmas del pasado con esa idealización del futuro, o bien cómo existe un presente obsesionado por los fantasmas de los futuros perdidos.

Vivimos en el presente de un futuro que nunca llegó y que fuimos idealizando en el pasado.

(Ya si se quieren clavar en la textura, vayan a la Wikipedia a leer más.)

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hoshhiro · 1 month

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#gundam factory #gundam #sonyalpha #sooc

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ireturn1day · 7 months

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#street photography #original photographers #streetphoto #ishootjpg #streetphotography #photographers on tumblr #sooc #black and white #fujijpg #typography

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2janine · 2 months

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Photos of 3 stages of a cluster of tulips I keep by my kitchen window.

Perfectly delicate, yet strong like a warrioress with bold beautiful colours.

Time to spread its petals, reap the warmth of the sun and embrace its alteration with understated colours.

Last moments are spent with each petal patiently waiting their turn to free fall onto the counter leaving behind a still delicate but muted reminder of the transformation of its beauty.

(I know silly.)

#photographers on tumblr #photography #flowers #canon #natural light #sooc #macro photography #abstract #original photography #canon photography #canon photos

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bubblesorbubbles · 1 month

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Flames Tower

Ilford HP5 Plus 400

#travelling #sooc #fujifilm #xt5 #photographer on tumblr #films simulation #cityscape #architecture #street #ilford #landmark #monochrome #flametowers #icon #boulevard #Baku #Azerbaijan

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brickindc · 2 years

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You cannot hide, I see you!

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phdmama · 2 months

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81 and 58 are speaking to me for Buddie. Thanks!

The Missus and the Ex & Accidental Eavesdropping

(Okay, this is what came to my mind - I really don’t have a handle on Marisol’s character so this might be off-target but oh well! Here you go, pal - hope this satisfies!!)

Buck doesn't mean to listen in. It’s not on purpose. It’s not his fault that he’s in the supply closet looking for more paper towels while Eddie and Marisol are having a fight right outside the door. He doesn’t even realize at first that that’s what’s happening — he just hears an intensely whispered conversation until all of a sudden, Marisol raises her volume.

“I’m getting sick of this, Eddie.”

Eddie’s voice is low, even, as he murmurs something too quietly for Buck to make out.

“No, I’m not just going to calm down. This is important to me, and now you’re telling me you can’t come? Because you have to go to the zoo?”

Eddie’s voice gets louder. “I told you, it’s—”

Marisol plows right over him. “The zoo where you have a membership? Where you go all the time? Oh,” and now her voice is dripping with sarcasm, “I’m sorry, I meant, where you and Buck go all the time?”

Buck freezes, clutching the located paper towels to his chest. He’s been giving Eddie and Marisol some space to explore this newfound thing between them, and he doesn’t think he’s done anything to Marisol to warrant that kind of tone. He’s barely spent any time at all with her.

“I told you,” Eddie says again, and uh-oh, now his voice is ice cold. “It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity for Christopher to get to hear this wildlife biologist speak, to get to ask questions. He’s so excited. I swear, I forgot all about your friend’s gallery opening.”

“You forget a lot of things, Eddie,” Marisol says, and now she just sounds sad and sort of resigned. Like the rest of this conversation is a foregone conclusion.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Eddie says, frustrated. “This is my kid. I’m not going to let him down.”

“I know that, and I never expected to come before Christopher,” Marisol says angrily. “But it’s not just Christopher we’re talking about.”

Then she sighs so loudly that even Buck, still frozen in the closet, can hear it.

“How long have we been dating?”

“Six months or so?” Eddie says cautiously. “I don’t remember the date exactly.”

“Six months, two weeks, four days,” Marisol replies. “I remember the date. The time of day. What you were wearing.”

“You’re angry because I’m not great with remembering dates like that?”

Marisol snorts. “It’s not just dates. It’s stuff like, I hate fish and you’ve tried to take me for sushi six times. Roses make me sneeze but you’ve sent them four times. Our coffee date where you had to help Buck with some emergency and didn’t call me until half an hour after we were supposed to meet. You don’t pay attention to me, Eddie, and I think you know why.”

Eddie sounds honestly bewildered as he says, “I really don’t know what you mean. I know I’ve messed up a couple of times, but I do pay attention. I know that your birthday is March tenth. That you call your abuela every Sunday at noon, after church. That your favorite color is teal and it was the color of your quinceanera dress. What else am I paying attention to?”

There’s a long moment of silence and then Marisol says it.

“Buck,” she says. “There’s no room for me because you’re always looking at Buck.”

#my writing #buddie vignette #sooc #I wrote some words!!!#I ask that you talk to me before finishing or extending my vignettes #THANK YOU FOR UNDERSTANDING!!#911

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