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ma1dita · 6 months

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tangible

this was a request! read it here

words: 2.8k

summary: Holding onto love helps you through a difficult Order mission. sirius black x auror!reader (can be gn!reader)

warnings: mentions of blood, angst then fluff, domestic!sirius, reader gets injured, no use of y/n

a/n: guys i got really sick after thanksgiving and boy… thank you for your patience. i cannot ever write about sirius without bringing up him being an older!brother. i hope you enjoy this! working on more requests this week xx

(posted 12/11/23)

—

It’s funny, the things that cross your mind when you’re dying. Everyone says that your life flashes before your eyes. In the gut-wrenching pain in your abdomen that slowly but surely ebbs as a vignette consumes your vision, you can only think of how stupid it was to fight with Sirius before you left the house. The memory scrolls through your brain, flashing scenes from the evening playing like a black-and-white film, and you can’t hear the words, or understand the transcription of what caused it to be that bad.

To be that cruel.

When the war started, you both made a pact to never go to sleep with the other being angry. There’s not a lot of certainty for two star-crossed lovers with a poor chance of fighting fate. Sirius was always too stubborn, pushing at his luck and scoffing in the face of danger.

Why was he angry again?

Was it because you rearranged his vinyls without asking him? Or maybe because you yelled at him over how his boots tracked mud into the hallway after the rain. A tear slips out of the corner of your eye and it feels like you’ve been mulling through this question for hours when it’s only been 3 minutes. 3 minutes since a death eater struck you with a curse ripping life from you faster than you can comprehend and now the blood pulses between your fingertips as the waning pressure in your free hand feebly holds down on the gaping wound. Wand shaking at the ready in your other grasp, there’s much to think about as you lay here on the cold concrete. Labored breaths leave your lips and soon, they’ll weaken too.

Oh, what one would do for an extra 3 minutes?

With 3 more minutes, maybe you could’ve sat with Sirius for breakfast today and talked about visiting your godson if the coast is clear. You could’ve spent that time trying to make Sirius like the tiny cat that greets you at the door. Maybe you would’ve even had the time to put on matching socks before running out of there, not meeting his eyes as he yelled at you from the living room. A few more minutes of laying on the couch, or another kiss would’ve quelled this feeling in your chest. There’s never enough time, and as your heart races to compensate for the shock in your system, it becomes clear that you didn’t tell Sirius ‘I love you’ before slamming the door.

Ah yes, now you remember. He got mad because you switched partner assignments for the Order mission today without telling him until you were minutes from walking out.

—-

“We always go on missions together, why on Earth would you want that to change now?” he scathes, and the contrast between his tone and how he gently helps you button up your coat makes your stomach feel queasy.

“I’m doing this to be careful, Sirius. I’m not saying we wouldn’t get the job done, but—”

“But what, love? How is this you being careful? I think you’re being fucking stupid right now, and you didn’t even think to consult me!”

His hands are shaking as he wraps your scarf around your neck, and suddenly you’re not so sure anymore. A sense of foreboding fills the room as you stare at each other, and you catch yourself getting distracted by the gray of his eyes.

“I can do it, baby. Dumbledore said this was an important mission. This is what we signed up for.” Your hands catch his as they fall from your face and he’s reeling from the determination that’s clearly taken over common sense.

“I didn’t sign up for you walking towards your death without me there. How do you expect me to protect you?” His voice wavers and in the heat of the argument, you think it’s because he speaks before thinking, words striking like oil on a hot pan.

“I don’t need you to protect me, Sirius. I just need you to trust me and not look at me like I’m going to die!” Your reply echoes in the tiny house, footsteps clomping towards the door as you push away from him and walk out to the sound of him calling your name as you apparate.

—

A snowflake lands on your cheek and the only thing that comes to mind now is the address of your townhouse that you share with the love of your life. The quaint white house on top of the hill with the flowerbeds between the window shutters. A whimper escapes your mouth in a last-ditch effort to alert anyone in your surroundings. ‘Please help me,’ you try to think out loud. ‘I’ve got a home to get back to. His name is Sirius Orion Black, and I can’t let him go to bed angry with me.’ The words fall from your lips in a jumble, until the only intelligible words are Sirius’s name. SiriusOrionBlack. Sirius Orion Black. S i r i u s. Your desperate plea is your only prayer.

“I need to go home.” A blue wisp of light seeps from the tip of your shaking wand, your patronus fleeing between buildings to get to your love as a warning, or an apology. Hopefully, Sirius left the light on in the hallway. He doesn’t do that well with all that thinking in the dark.

Death is too quiet. Snow continues to fall silently, slowly burying you deeper into unconsciousness and the last thing you feel is your fingers stuck together with your dried blood. The last thing you hear is heavy footsteps crunching in the snow.

Has he come for you yet?

There’s no more time for fear or for crying, and your only consolation is that maybe in the next life, you can find him too and tell him you’re sorry for leaving without a kiss goodbye. The last thing you see is Sirius, or someone who looks like him, hair shorter and jaw thinner.

“Sirius…” you mumble before your eyelashes flutter with the last of your energy.

What only registers before unconsciousness is that his eyes show recognition, and the face might be somewhat wrong, but those eyes….you know those eyes. Death feels familiar now, as darkness shrouds your being, tucking you in for a dreamless sleep.

—-

Sirius Black can find comfort in a waiting room. At Hogwarts, he would always wait outside the cream curtain with the boys after Moony’s time of the month, sitting patiently with his friends. He’d be the one to drag Prongs to Madame Pomfrey after quidditch scrapes and broken bones after bludger hits. Late walks with Wormy after sneaking into the kitchens to get him more sleeping draught for his insomnia. Sirius loves to take care of others in the few ways he knows how to. He strives to give the love he so desperately wanted when he was younger, and though some of his methods are unconventional, he protects what’s important to him. There isn’t much value in material things as he’s lived unhappily with an abundance of it, and lived much more earnestly at the dining room of his little white house surrounded by his loved ones. What compares to endless riches when what he wants to protect is more tangible and has a heartbeat?

The waiting room is a liminal space where he can’t do much but fidget in the uncomfortable plastic chair. Though now with his fists clenched at his side and posture as sharp as a lash from his father’s belt, he thinks he’s been waiting for you to wake up for hours now. His eyelids droop in discomfort and exhaustion, the steady beeping of the monitor sounding like claps of thunder in his ears.

This is not the Hogwarts hospital wing, and you were not supposed to get hurt. You’re not kids anymore and St. Mungo’s doesn’t have the gentle touch of Madame Pomfrey as she tends to minor bumps and bruises. It smells of disinfectant instead of soft cotton and the lights are too bright compared to the warm fireplaces at the castle. When they let him in to see you sleeping, his hand softly nudges your blanket, tucking you into the thin polyester so you won’t get a chill. He can still feel goosebumps rise along your arm as his fingers glide over to hold your hand. For a second, he forgets the anger, and the worry, and a smile crosses his face with the idea of your body knowing him even in its incapacitated state.

Sirius gazes down at your face and thinks of the last fighting words he spat at you as you ran out.

“You’re just sleeping,” he mutters, and he’s not quite sure who’s trying to convince. The healers said that whoever brought you in came at the right time because they would’ve lost you if a few minutes more had been spared. Tempting fate and pushing luck indeed. If you were awake right now, you’d be the type to use this example to somehow further prove your argument, but he still can’t figure out why you wanted to go without him.

“Why go where I can’t follow?” he whispers, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

Later in the night, your mission partner comes to visit, but his endless apologies are left unheard as all Sirius can do is focus on your still form in the hospital bed. He focuses on the curve of your cheekbone, the faint sounds of your breath, and the rise and fall of your chest.

This, you, are tangible. You are real, and you are his.

Sirius’s eyes flicker over every movement, like a soldier standing guard for any change in the environment. Here, he will wait until you wake. Until he’s sure you’re okay.

—-

Everything is blurred when your eyes finally open days later. It had been touch and go, and what you didn’t know is that Sirius had felt like he couldn’t breathe until you took a deep breath of fresh air. He’d give you all the oxygen in this room if he didn’t have to take up some of his own. A gasping stuttered breath leaves both your lips, yours from the soreness in your abdomen, his from the choking feeling crawling up his throat.

“Sweetheart…” he sighs, and you don’t miss the tears in his eyes as he rushes forward to kiss your forehead.

Those eyes.

“You came for me,” you croak lowly, voice hoarse from disuse, but this is the only clear memory from that night.

“I sent you a Patronus and you came to rescue me.” Sirius stalls at your words as he readjusts in his chair. He remembers your Patronus tapping on the bay window of the home you share, that night you left. On his fourth cup of black coffee, he waited at the dining table to hear an all-clear, hoping you’d get home soon.

‘I need to get home,’ your voice broke through the magic of the protective spell, and he didn’t know if this was the message he was waiting for or the last he'd hear from you. Fabian and Gideon Prewett came knocking an hour later, telling him you were dropped off at St. Mungo’s by a total stranger, and they weren’t sure if you’d make it.

“I’ll always come for you baby, but that wasn’t me who found you. You were brought here by someone.” Sirius strokes your hair as your brain works to replicate the events of that night.

“Maybe it was death.” The joke falls flat as your love looks at you sternly until he hears the words that follow in your mandrake restorative draught-riddled mind.

“He looked like you, baby. It looked like Death had your eyes.” Sirius is frozen, watching you babble as he thinks of the enemy, of the idea of his sweet little brother who was once tangible to him too. Could it be?

“Held me so gently I thought it was you,” you sigh sleepily. “He took care of me.”

“He did, didn’t he?"

Sirius’s resolve shakes at the notion of a love he once protected taking care of the greatest love he’s ever known.

“I didn’t fall asleep angry, Siri.” Your hand pats around the blankets searching for his, and when you find him, he drops his head over your chest gently to listen to the sound of your heartbeat.

“I haven’t slept at all.” He holds you, one hand in yours and the other in your hair, and it reminds him that this is real, you’re breathing, and everything will be okay.

—-

“What made you do it? I never got to ask you.” You’re pouring maple syrup over your pancakes as Sirius cuts into his eggs one morning after you’ve been discharged from St. Mungo’s. Maybe becoming an active member will be a part of the discussion again once the scar the size of your fist doesn’t scare you when you look in the mirror, or when you’re able to sleep through the night peacefully. Gentle hands pick up your napkin, wiping crumbs off your cheek as you chew on your lip. It all sounds stupid now that you have to put it into words, but now that you have some time…

“I had this fear…that once we start a family together, it would be scary to see you die. So I thought it’d be better to go on missions with different partners.”

Sirius looks at you deep in thought, and his answer is without hesitation.

“Why would I leave you? If we die, I’d rather do it together or not at all.” The notion of this conversation being part of real life becomes funny to you as you mop up some butter with your fork. Domesticity is a privilege neither of you thought you’d be lucky to see.

“Baby, but if we both die, who would take care of our child?”

His eyes widen and fall to your stomach, and you throw the napkin at him in offense.

“Idiot, you wish! Who would take care of Mittens?” His laughter fills the small house and with it, your fear of death dissipates. After all, you’ve faced it once before, and it’s somehow comforting to think of him being with you next time.

“Mittens…Baby, is that the scrawny black cat you feed in the garden?”

You nod matter of factly, “Him and our future very real kids too. What then?”

“You fought with me and almost got killed over a tiny thing that stomps through my flowerbeds. My love, if you think I’m ever going to let you fight any more death eaters without me right beside you… That’s your time off included. Not letting you out of my sight.”

“Well if I’m not going on missions, neither are you!” You say sarcastically, but Sirius actually agrees.

“Right you are. Can barely walk straight and this time it’s not my fault.” He smirks as he kisses your wrist and you slap his cheek lightly.

“You’re lucky you’re a good nurse.”

“I am lucky, and I love taking care of you. You should stop fighting me on it. I’m not doing life without you.” Living with him this long doesn’t impact the rise of the blush in your cheeks, and that was that.

—

Later, Sirius washes the dishes and hands them over for you to dry. The two of you were meant to meet Remus for tea by now, but something black darts across your vision. Mittens peers through your kitchen window, stomping on a petunia before blinking at you curiously and you can’t help but laugh.

“Stupid cat,” he grumbles, throwing the sponge at the window, and Mittens’ tail sways teasingly, daring him to do something about it. Being more thoughtful of how you spend your time, you notice the cat has gray eyes too. Your eyes flicker to the clock above the stove, and instead of panicking, you turn to kiss Sirius’s cheek.

Both of you are living on borrowed time, but as you lean into his embrace and he grazes over your waist, you can’t help but think, well, what’s another 3 minutes?

—

"I thought pain meant that I was not loved. It meant I loved." -Louise Glück

taglist (OPEN!) : @jsjcue

#made by ma1dita ♥︎#sirius black x reader #marauders x reader #sirius black x y/n #marauders era #sirius black x gn!reader #for my gn babies (づ ◕‿◕ )づ

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ashenberry · 5 months

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[ID: a digital illustration featuring Pearl Fey, Athena Cykes, Maya Fey, Jinxie Tenma and Florent L'Belle from the ace attorney series.

Pearl is the largest character in the illustration, standing in front of everything and to the right of the canvas. she is wearing heart shaped glasses, a denim jacket with a fluffy collar, and black sleeves that lead into fingerless gloves with a break inbetween for her spirit channeling bracelet. she is also wearing a magatama and has earrings. She has a shocked expression with her hand covering her mouth

Behind her is crossed film reel featuring the other characters. One reel features:

Maya in a directors outfit yelling into a megaphone, smiling and winking

Athena in court, wearing magenta star sunglasses, her designed slightly tweaked from canon featuring a bowtie widget, suspenders, and a moon hair tie instead of her cyan ribbon. she is pointing ace attorney style

a partially obscured dead body in a puddle of blood

the feet of the jammin ninja and the bottom section of his scarf

Behind that is another film of reel featuring

Jinxie, hiding behind a clapboard, sscared,

L'Belle as the Jammin Ninja

a close up of tenma taro

The background consist of various sections of a movie set, including the rig of lights above, a boom mic and chair, an under passage, and the camera

end ID]

LIGHTS ⭐CAMERA ⭐TURNABOUT

#ashenart #ace attorney #i dont think this contains any spoilers since its an au case yay yippe #“ashen whats going on” wouldnt you like to know wether boy.#pearl fey #maya fey #athena cykes #jinxie tenma #baa6au #le epic follow up to last years magical turnabout piece

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fortheloveofarchons · 3 months

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Xiao comforts Aether in the Serenitea Pot

C.W. - Fluff and angst - Aether is so done - Aether needs therapy - Xiao being kind - Kiss!

Aether sighs, looking around his own serenitea pot, his feelings mixed with emotions of proudness and tiredness. It’s been a long day for the traveller, and all he’s been doing is decorating and furnishing his little teapot realm.

Aether whips out his furnishing blueprint, which was titled as the, ‘Chorus of Desert and Wood’.

With leaves that resemble the contours of starlights, lush and demure plants with brightly coloured flowers, some purple plants that grow in clusters like a dense bush, these components pair well with the fountain. To Aether, the fountain is made to be exactly like the one that’s in front of the Zubayr Theater in Sumeru. Its mist is able to bring a cool breeze to the audience, including himself, whose face is gently sprinkled with water.

With these components, thus orchestrating a beautiful chorus of flowers, trees, and some wild grass. In front of the fountain, lies a dream-like aura furnishing item that’s called the, ‘Floral Swing’. The suspended chair is supported by gracefully-curved trees, the seat held by vibrant vines twisted into ropes, while the trunks and beams are dotted with clusters of blue and white flowers that exude a pervasive fragrance capable of carrying people off to a floral sea in the clouds.

“I think I did a pretty good job!” He says, admiring his new furnishing set. Thanks to the placements, the grass also growed wonderfully, without any unnecessary weeds growing.

“If only Paimon was here to see this…”

~~~~~~

Meanwhile, Paimon is snoring loudly in her little bedroom, sprawling across the bed in a messy tangle of limbs and blankets. One arm hangs off the side of the bed, while the other is tucked awkwardly beneath Paimon’s own body. Paimon’s tousled white hair sticks out in all directions, evidence of a day filled with play and adventure.

“Ehe~ eheheheh~” The emergency food’s face is relaxed in sleep, with a slight smile playing at the corners of Paimon’s mouth, perhaps dreaming of mountains of food or mora.

“More… more food… bring in more food… yummy…”

…Right.

~~~~~~

Settling himself onto the floral swing, he pushes his legs from the ground, gently swaying amidst the blossoming flowers.

“If only Lumine was here…” Aether says it to himself. Surrounded by the vibrant colours of Sumeru’s nature, the immortal traveller is lost in contemplation, the shine in his golden eyes reflecting a depth of loneliness that only eternity could bring.

Each petal and leaves that dance in the breeze whisper tales of fleeting life, contrasting sharply with the immutability of the Fourth Descender’s existence.

As the swing gently rocks back and forth, making a little creaking sound, reality seemed to flicker and fade in his eyes, like an old film reel skipping frames. Travelling and venturing into many worlds, he and his kin watched as the seasons changed, flowers bloomed and withered, people growing old and passing by, and life ebbed and flowed around them. Yet to him and his sister, they remained unchanged, forever separated from mortal existence, both twins burdened with the weight of endless years.

Despite the vibrant surroundings, Aether felt an emptiness in his heart that no amount of furnishing sets and nature splendours could fill. Ever since he and his twin sister were separated, he has longed for companionship, for someone to share in anything he could ever think of.

But he knew that such a connection was impossible no matter what.

“If only there was someone who could see this with me…” Aether says.

The first person that came to his mind was someone with a purple diamond marking on the forehead, and a familiar green tattoo around their right arm.

“Don’t be ridiculous…” Aether gives himself a laugh, adjusting the white scarf on his neck. “There’s no way Xiao could even appear in this teapot realm.”

Under his own little rambling, the golden-haired immortal didn’t hear the gust of wispy black smoke coming from behind him.

“I mean– Xiao is always so busy extinguishing demons, he probably doesn’t even have time to deal with… What does he call them again? Oh! Right!” Aether tries to mimic Xiao’s voice, making his voice a bit more deeper. “ I have no time to deal with your mortal affairs. How absurd of you, I’d rather eat snow than stay in your company– Unless you have a plate of almond tofu, of course. ”

That made the yaksha’s brows furrow tightly, crossing his arms.

“If you awake to a knife at your throat!! If monsters dig their claws into you!!” Aether starts bolting out a song out of nowhere, his voice crackling and bolting with every note. A tuneless melody that’s out of sync. “If death comes knocking at your door!!!”

Xiao glances around the realm at nothing, as though he might see something that would explain this.

“Call out my name!! Da dum da dum!! Adeptus Xiao!! Da dum da dum!!” Aether continues. “I will be here!!! Right when you call–”

Squeeeezeeeee… .

Aether could feel a rough pinch on both of his cheeks, halting whatever song he was singing out loud.

“Eh?”

“Are you done singing?” Xiao asks near Aether’s ear, leaning in close. “Perhaps this would be enough to shut you up. By the way, why exactly did you call me?”

“Oh, Xiao!” Aether lets out an awkward laugh, his cheeks turning to a light tint of red due to the squeeze. “I… Uh… I missed you?”

“Hmm? Why would you miss me? I” Xiao gives a confused hum in response and lets go of Aether’s cheeks. “I mean– Why would you miss me , of all the people you’ve met?”

Aether’s cheeks are now flushed as pink as a rainbow rose...

Full version down below!!!

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sarpedon · 6 months

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idk how people can even handle being delivery drivers in this age of ring cameras like you just try to do your fucking job and every middle class suburban family is filming you as you bring them their 4th takeout meal of the week or the scarf they definitely could have gone to the fucking store to pick up, and god forbid you do ANYTHING “odd” while you’re dropping it off because then they post it on their instagram reels and lord knows they didn’t get your fucking consent first.

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wambsgender · 1 year

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oh my god i cant believe i havent posted about this already. so this afternoon i was sitting in my dorm room reading when i got a terrifyingly assertive knock on the door.

i open it and it's the most uppermiddle class guy ive ever met with his partner. hes got a ridiculous scarf and sensible footwear and has clearly never felt out of place in any situation ever. he tells me he used to live in my room and he wanted to see how it had changed. i welcome them both in, but a) my room is a mess and he is clearly not impressed, and b) i completely forgot to tell him about my lifesize colin morgan cutout. anyway they eventually get over that and start chatting about how all the fixtures are the same (my guess is he graduated 20-30 years ago). BUT THEN.

he notices i'm studying english. oh poor you he says. oh dear. i've read the alumni mag, aharharhar. implying it is a terrible course nowadays (it's not). he asks me if i'm enjoying it. i say yes. harharhar. i sense some reservation. he asks if i still know what a book is. do they still teach you about those things these days, aharhar. i am still reeling from having to explain the colin morgan cutout to a 50 year old stranger in my bedroom so i just nervously laugh and say well yes of course. he says by the sounds of it it's just folding paper and watching movies. i say yes they have added an optional film module recently but you don't have to take it and the bulk of the degree still follows the very very traditional western literary canon. i choose not to disclose that i take said film module, which IMMEDIATELY proves itself to be the right choice as he goes: Ah, so that's the course for all the stupids, AHARHARHARHARRAHR.

i think i black out for a second at the audacity. his partner is visibly cringing. i decide to just go along with his narrative. he complains a little longer about how all the greats are being erased from the curriculum (they are absolutely not) and recommends me a poem (i have already read it) until finally he leaves when i assure him we still read euripides. then i turn all my lights off and shut all my curtains and lie on my floor in the dark and pretend it was all a bad dream.

#tedtalks!#calling me stupid. IN MY OWN ROOM.#i honestly nearly laughed in his face at the sheer audacity

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inapat17 · 2 months

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A short film as a clip video ? A challenge that turns out well for Taylor Swift

youtube

For this first article, I wanted to talk about “All Too Well: The Short Film” By Taylor Swift in 2021. She is primarily known for her music and especially for the re-edition of her first albums under the name Taylor’s Version. So after the release of “Red (Taylor’s Version)”, she extended her iconic song All Too Well to a 10 minute version. I find it interesting that she accompanies her music not with a clip video but with a short film. She released, directed and produced the film herself, and she was helped by Rina Yang for the photography. The "All Too Well" short film is a cinematic masterpiece that invites viewers into the heart of Swift's emotional landscape. Starring Sadie Sink and Dylan O'Brien, the film is a poignant exploration of love, loss, and the bittersweet passage of time. At its core, "All Too Well" is a song that resonates with melancholia and remembrance of a past time as we can understand throughout her lyrics and the introduction of the film “Love is so short, forgetting is so long”, by Pablo Neruda. Set against the backdrop of a wintry landscape, the film follows the journey of two lovers as they navigate the highs and lows of their relationship. The film is structured around seven parts that represent the status of their relationship: “An upstate escape”, “the first Crackin The Glass”, “Are You Real?”, “The Breaking Point”, “The Reeling”, “The Remembering” and “Thirteen Years Gone”.

For me, the "All Too Well" short film is interesting regarding visual storytelling. Taylor Swift demonstrates a keen eye for composition and atmosphere, using evocative imagery to enhance the emotional impact of the narrative, with the repetitive apparition of the red scarf for example. The wintry setting serves as a metaphor for the coldness of heartbreak, while the juxtaposition of intimate moments represents the conflict within the relationship. The cinematography, characterized by its muted color palette and light lighting, further heightens the film's atmospheric beauty. Each frame is meticulously crafted to evoke a sense of melancholy and longing, drawing viewers into the depths of the characters' souls. The use of slow motion and close-up shots intensifies the emotional intimacy of key moments, allowing audiences to experience the raw intensity of the protagonists' emotions and introduces the viewer as an invisible third party peering into the journey of two lovers. But perhaps the most remarkable aspect of the "All Too Well" short film is its ability to capture the essence of Swift's songwriting in a visual medium. The film allows the lyrics to put a setting and atmosphere to the song. In fact, thanks to the film we know from the beginning that the characters are opposed due to their age gap, as Sadie Sink is 11 years younger than Dylan O’Brien. That creates a sort of foreshadowing, because generally these kinds of relationships do not end up well. To conclude this article, it seems to me that the perfect quote that best describes the song is : Time won’t fly, it’s like i’m paralyzed by it, I’d like to be my old self again, But I’m still trying to find it.

Boileau Ninon

#Youtube

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lserver362reviews · 5 months

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The season of giving thanks is officially upon us! This is just such a beautiful film capturing a moment both bittersweet and cumulative of all the history of The Band. The theater I saw this in cranked up the volume on the music sections and despite watching it every year for the past 3 or 4 years, I had forgotten just how energized this film makes me (Neil Diamond being the one and only low point). The audio for the interviews was significantly lower than the concert footage, but it still worked for me overall. I really noticed how the sections and performances were tied together thematically. I also think that there's a undercurrent of politics that goes untouched. My dad, upon leaving the movie theater remarked, "It sure was a different time." I will note that the previews consisted of a voice over from Robbie Robertson (that had been advertised as a special introduction from him) over clips from the film, and then they played a highlight reel of just his parts as tribute. It felt really weird and inflated when the movie was about to be shown. Don't play a highlight reel when we're about to experience the whole thing! I think it would have been better to just have an in memorium at the very end. (Alright, I had to get that out of the way). I really love how this is not a completely polished product, you see some of the sausage getting made and I love that for it. Also having just seen Mavis Staples in concert this last week (aka God's gift to the world) sing The Weight with local rock hero Grace Potter, seeing her in this felt extra special, and that section received the only full audience round of applause of the night. I guess I had also forgotten that Pops gets a verse on The Weight and delivers it so so nicely. I need to start a new paragraph just to talk about Rick Danko and how he oozes a sweetness that cannot be named. He's just such a jolly player and totally buoyant, just so talented. Rick Danko is the ideal man. My best friend Lynn, turned to me and said, look at the bassist, during the Dylan bit because Rick looks like a Muppet. It is sobering to see him mention something about drug use and the rest of the guys kind of joke and chuckle while he remains stone faced. Marc Maron mentioned thinking about him a lot and how sweet he was the other week to Joan Baez, and I completely relate to that. It Makes No Difference is just a stunning song, performed so magnificently and I just have to wonder, who hurt you, Rick? His vocal talents and joyful bass playing, along with the fiddling, are a wonderfully captured gift. I love Rick Danko and will think about him so much, always. Also Robbie Robertson rocked that fuchsia scarf so hard while absolutely shredding the guitar throughout this night. I loved seeing all his interviews, as he oddly kind of seems the most mature. I loved hearing about Garth teaching music lessons for a price. Richard Manuel had my favorite voice out of the guys, but I always thought I liked Levon's songs the best (I've kinda come around to Rick having my fav songs though). I plan on watching all the docs I can this month devoted to The Band. I'm so long overdue on Festival Express, but hopefully I'll be able to find: Once Were Brothers: Robbie Robertson and The Band, Ain’t in It for My Health: A Film About Levon Helm, Revisiting the Last Waltz, and Bob Dylan & The Band: Down In The Flood. I hope you join me! Now let's take it from the top!

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kudosmyhero · 7 months

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Detective Comics (vol. 1) #404: Ghost of the Killer Skies!/Midnight Doom-Boy

Read Date: March 07, 2023 Cover Date: October 1970 ● Writer: Dennis O'Neil / Frank Robbins ● Penciler: Neal Adams / Gil Kane ● Inker: Dick Giordano / Frank Giacoia ● Colorist: {uncredited} ● Letterer: John Costanza / Ben Oda ● Editor: Julius Schwartz ●

**HERE BE SPOILERS: Skip ahead to the fan art/podcast to avoid spoilers

Reactions As I Read: (first story) (read it but didn't take notes) (second story) ● oh god, Barbara Gordon falls victim to the single-female-tear of so many comics back in the day

● is she going to cry throughout this whole comic? so unlike Babs… ● 👏👏

Synopsis for Story 1: When murder breaks out on a World War I movie set devoted to the story of Rittmeister Hans Von Hammer, the Enemy Ace, Batman investigates and finds a modern-day "Von Hammer" devoted to keeping the original's memory untarnished in his own eyes.

The movie, which had been funded by Bruce Wayne, is forced to cancel after their lead actor and director are killed. Batman soon learns that someone has hired goons to sabotage the film and that same person murdered the three time Academy Award winner, director Anson. After following the clues left by the thugs, Batman confronts Heinrich Franz, the man behind the attacks and a descendant of Von Hammer.

In order to settle the dispute, Franz challenges Batman to a duel in the sky and Batman has no option but to agree. During the aerial combat, Batman's plane is damaged beyond repair and he takes the chance of jumping across the sky to Franz's plane, taking the fight directly to the criminal. In the struggle, Franz's scarf gets tangled with the rotor blades and he is thrown out of the plane as he plunges to a gruesome death. After the case is closed, Batman admits that he had some sort of help during the flight and the spirit of Von Hammer shines upon the Dark Knight.

Story 2: When a police surveillance film showing Jason Bard murdering X-rated film director Billy Warlock, the criminologist is arrested. Although the evidence shows that Bard killed Warlock, Barbara Gordon believes that Bard is innocent of the crime and begins launching her own investigation as Batgirl.

Reviewing the film she sees that in the footage of Bard leaving the scene, "Bard" is putting weight on his bad leg. Realizing the footage has been doctored with, she goes to Warlock's studio (Where the reels where originally taken) to find that the footage shows Veda, the woman who Bard claimed drugged and framed him for the murder was on the scene. But before Batgirl can do anything she is attacked by Veda herself, and during the combat a studio light is broken and the fumes inside knock Batgirl out. When some comes too she finds herself bound to a chair and Veda preparing a plaster mix to pour on Batgirl.

(https://dc.fandom.com/wiki/Detective_Comics_Vol_1_404)

Fan Art: Batgirl Barbara Gordon 3D by Untay

Accompanying Podcast: ● Batgirl to Oracle - episode 12

#dc #dc comics #my dc read #podcast recommendation #comics #comic books #fan art #detective comics #podcast - batgirl to oracle #batgirl #barbara gordon #fanart

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jsbmarketresearch01 · 1 year

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Stree 2 to Release in 2024, Know the Date, Cast, and Other Details Here

Stree 2 is going to be a reality soon as Jio Studios has already announced a sequel to Rajkumar Rao and Shraddha Kapoor starrer Stree in a grand event held in Mumbai. The announcement followed after the actors performed hilariously a play on the stage, entertaining the audience. And then the markers said that the most-awaited Stree 2 will be released on 31 August 2024.

A video is going viral on the internet. It is from the event as the play is seen being performed by the entire cast of Stree 2 comprising Pankaj Tripathi, Aparshakti Khurrana, Shraddha Kapoor, and Abhishek Banerjee. They announced the sequel to the movie after enacting some of the popular scenes of Stree. The announcement was also quite dramatic.

The event was glamorized by Aparshakti Khurrana in a dark blue suit, Rajkumar Rao in a white shirt and green suit, Pankaj Tripathi in a black shirt with a blue scarf, and Abhishek in a pastel-shade outfit. Shraddha Kapoor wore a side-slit red sequined lehenga-saree. Stree can go on floors by mid of this year, June 2023. Jio Studios said that they will release more than 100 web series and films along with sequels to Bhediya and Stree.

They will also associate with popular filmmakers such as Raj Kumar Hirani, Sooraj Barjatiya, and Ali Abbas Zafar. And also with Amar Kaushik, Dinesh Vijan, Laxman Utekar, Prakash Jha, and Aditya Dhar. Multiple genres will be looked into by the directors. The web series as well as the films will see a release in different languages such as Hindi, English, Gujarati, Marathi, Bengali, and Bhojpuri.

Some of the movies in the pipeline are Bhul Chuk Maaf starring Kartik Aaryan and Shraddha Kapoor, and Bloody Daddy starring Kirti Sanon and Shahid Kapoor. Then there is Amitabh Bachchan starrer Section 84.

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youremyonlyhope · 2 years

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The Power of the Doctor

I’m so late, I came home at 8:30 but I can at least watch the rest of the episode!

I have no clue what happened in the first half hour. I fully expect to be confused.

Heeyyyyy it’s my baby the Master. He’s a professor now. Nice. Oh I missed the whole Rasputin plotline apparently. Erased from existence. Interesting. She WANTS her companion to have a gun?? ”I said I’m in your head, dear.” Vinder! That looks like the Death Star. A TARDIS. WHICH DOCTOR IS IT? IS IT FOURTEEN? I HOPE IT’S FOURTEEN. OR FUGITIVE DOCTOR/RUTH??? TEGAN AND ACE! YAY! And my girl Kate. Brilliant as always. She’s still calling the Doctor “Professor”!?!?!?! I’m gonna sob. Help me oh my god. I wish I got to see the first half hour to hear Ace call her that for the first time. Why is the Doctor staticky? I really missed a lot I guess. Why Bolivia? It’s just now coming to me, what did Yaz think of meeting other companions? Did that make her have a “I really am not the only one” moment? OH NO THE LONE CYBERMAN. OH NO WAIT IT’S WORSE JUST A SHELL TO TRANSPORT OTHERS. OH AND THE LONE CYBERMAN’S REALLY THERE TOO. These Cybermen learned how to shoot from Stormtroopers. Ok Ashad knows how to aim. Wait. WAIT. Where’s Dan in all of this? Where’s our beloved himbo? God I love Sacha as the Master so much. Oof. Forced regeneration. “They did that to you once. Or more than once. Who knows? Not you.” Rude. But true. I WAS HOPING WE’D HEAR THIS SONG. Yes. Good. What is this cell phone Vinder has? Did I forget this from Flux, or was it from the first half hour? Where are Bel and the baby anyway? Daleks and Cybermen judging the Master’s dancing. Love it. Plot twist prediction: What if Tennant is playing the Master in the special that was just filmed? That’d be fun. I’d prefer that. WEIRD. But honestly it’s sort of adorable to see him in Thirteen’s outfit. So. Does that make this number Fourteen... I am... confused. ACE’S JACKET??!?!?!?!??!?!? “Beyonce copied all my moves.” YES SHE DID. NO. NO NO NO. NOT THE MISHMASH OF COSTUMES. I LOVE IT. BUT ALSO IT’S DISGRACEFUL THAT IT’S HIM IN THE CLOTHES. BUT I ABSOLUTELY LOVE IT AT THE SAME TIME. Four’s scarf, Seven’s vest, Five’s celery, Ten’s tie, Thirteen’s coat, and Twelve’s pants. I love it. NO NOT TWO’S RECORDER. That hurts me. But I love it.

Stupid me decided to refresh my dashboard so I saw a post that involved a gif of Ten I assume from this episode, being compared to other scenes but I scrolled before properly seeing which scenes. Oh well. Whatever.

Are we finally gonna see Howl’s Floating Castle with all of the Doctor’s past lives? IT’S HIM. IT’S ONE. LOOK AT HIM. DAVID BRADLEY YOU ALWAYS MAKE ME CRY. I’M ALMOST MAD TO SEE YOU BUT I’M SO HAPPY. SIX!!??!!??!? FIVE?!?!?!!??!!?!? EIGHTTTTTT?!?!?!?!!??! MY LOVE!?!?!?!?!?! SEVEN?!!?!??!?! EIGHT DOESN’T DO ROBES. GOD I LOVE EIGHT SO MUCH. LOOK AT HIM. HE’S HERE. ON MY TV. TELL ME WHY WE GOT OLD WHO DOCTORS IN THIS SPECIAL BUT NOT IN THE 50TH!??!?!?! Is Tom Baker going to show up? I’m not surprised he’s not here but I’d love if he was. My god I love Paul McGann as Eight. So much. It’s the voice. Yes bad way to start a hologram message Doctor. OH THAT’S WHAT’S WITH THE STATIC. Oh good Vinder. Where’s Dan in all of this, seriously? Was that explained at the start and I missed it? Tegan’s great. I’ve seen none of her original run. But she’s great. Kate, my girl, don’t die. Please.

I’m still reeling from all the Old Who Doctors. Especially Eight. But also oh my god.

Chibnall really achieved what Moffat didn’t even dare to try for the 50th. Chibnall: 1, Moffat: 0.

Cute, falling into the TARDIS. Like River diving into the pool. “Wicked.” She’s so great. Dhawan!Master has always had a weird fixation on Yaz. TEGAN GETS TO TALK TO FIVE. HE’S IN THE OUTFIT. I’M SAD. AND SO HAPPY. LOOK AT HIM. “YEAH? WHAT AM I THINKING SEEING ALL THESE CYBERMEN?” “...Adric.” OH GOD NO DON’T BRING UP ADRIC. That was such a sweet emotional scene. And now Ace’s turn? I’m already sad. “You never failed me, Professor.” Help. “All children leave home sooner or later, the joy is to watch them fly.” Now there’s a quote. “We’re ace.” God that must have been incredible for the fans from the 80s. GRAHAM?!?!?!!??!!?!?! AND HE’S USING THE PSYCHIC PAPER. YES. I knew he was supposed to show up in this special, but I wasn’t sure if I missed him already or not. MY GIRL THE FUGITIVE DOCTOR. “I’m the Doctor, mate. Who the hell are you?” MY GIRL. YES A HOLOGRAM. “I’m freelance.” Love Vinder. I love seeing Thirteen in this mishmash outfit. Yes. ”I thought that was a given.” Tegan, I love you. Has Kate never been in the TARDIS before???? Yeah where is Ryan? Too bad he wasn’t in this. ”How is it bigger on the inside?” How has she NEVER been in it? Moffat, you had so many chances to make that happen. Chibnall: 2. Moffat: 0. Don’t know where the Master’s TARDIS came from but oh well. I assume it was in the first 30 min. “Do you think we can let go yet?” Oh Graham. I closed my eyes and missed the Doctor and the Master both going down. YAZ CARRYING THIRTEEN. THIS NEVER HAPPENS. THE DOCTOR CARRIES THEIR COMPANIONS. “I need more time!” “I have loved being with you. And I have loved being me.” that’s a very Nine thing to say.

I’m so exhausted I dozed off for a minute or two when the Cyber planet thing started shooting, so that’s why I missed both the Doctor and the Master ending up on the floor. I have no clue what happened there.

But I’m awake. I need to be. She’s about to regenerate.

I know Thirteen’s probably about to regenerate into Ten, just from that spoiler gifset and him being in the next special, but I don’t want that. I love Tennant. I love Ten but I do not like Ten. And I don’t like that Fourteen is gong to have to share his first episode with Ten. It’s not fair to Ncuti.

DAN! MY BABY! YOUR’E ALIVE! THANK THE LORD. WITH GRAHAM. YAZ GETS HER EMOTIONAL SUPPORT OLDER MEN BACK! Is this a companion support group? IT IS. LOOK AT THEM ALL. “Look after the next one.�� Ow my heart. If Martha walked in I’d sob. “Doctor Whoever I’m About to Be.” That’s great. I love it. Yeah see. I’m salty about this. Awww the teeth. “What. What!? WHAT?!” Ok that’s why I saw the gifset. That’s cute. Fine. You did the one funny Ten bit that I truly truly enjoy.

But I am still mad that RTD is doing this. Bringing back Ten for this. I don’t like it. Let Doctor Who do its thing to move into the next era without having to fall back on Ten. And let Ncuti as Fourteen get to shine on his own.

Ah the 50th Anniversary special is on now. And I forgot how much I love Clara’s theme. It’s truly just... so special to my heart. I love it. Aww and baby Eleven. Dare I watch this whole special now... for the billionth time... God I forgot how cute Eleven and Clara are. Stupid BBC-A’s captions says that Osgood said “mum” not “ma’am.” They should let me do the captions. Eleven hanging from the TARDIS. This was so cute. Ah. God. I’m getting NOSTALGIC for when this first aired. And when the first set pictures leaked. So cute. I might have to just keep watching this. Let me end this post here.

Overall. The Power of the Doctor, from the 75% I saw, was fun and sad and I am going to miss Thirteen. I just hate that I can’t even truly appreciate her departure since I’m salty about RTD bringing back Ten for no good reason. And no, the 60th is not a good enough reason to overshadow the first Black Doctor (of the main regeneration order) with fan service of bringing back another popular Doctor.

I loved the past companions. I LOVED seeing the Old Who Doctors more than I can even put into words. I am going to miss Jodie and Mandip. I’m going to miss Sacha and I hope they find a way to bring back his Master.

Another year until we get more Doctor Who. Another year until we PROPERLY get introduced to Ncuti. I hope they do him justice. I hope that the 60th anniversary special isn’t solely focused on Ten.

And Thasmin didn’t end up canon. Thirteen said she loved being with Yaz. And of course all the stuff in the Sea Devils. But that’s it. I didn’t truly expect it anyway, but I had hoped they’d actually address it.

#hope watches doctor who #dw spoilers #doctor who spoilers #doctor who

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aquaticstyles · 4 years

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unchained

A while ago I was asked for a “Have You Ever Been In Love” sequel, and while this is probably not the direction you guys were expecting, this is what I came up with. Also, this one’s (loosely) inspired by the song “Scott Street” by the lovely Phoebe Bridgers (highly recommend listening to the spotify sessions version while listening). Fun fact, for forever I misheard the lyrics, thinking she was saying “unchained” instead of “ashamed.” After noticing that I have, in fact, been wrong this entire time, I realized I kinda liked my version better (sorry Phoebe). And, me being me, I ran with it and it spun into this quick, 1.4k part two. Reblogs + feedback help so much! Enjoy!! xx, Jane

“Have you ever been in love?”

Harry’s heart stops.

The question catches him off guard, and not just because he’s not used to interviewers asking such personal ones (he guesses this is what he signed up for when he agreed to be the first male flying solo on the cover of Vogue). It makes his heart stop because of his answer, because of the woman that had once asked him the same exact question.

Harry has never been one to linger in his sadness; he finds it unproductive, and quite honestly, completely depressing. After a break up, one can find the caramel-colored curls belonging to the world’s latest phenomenon sweating out his sorrow, or frustration, at the gym, pounding the boxing bag again and again and again. “Nothing another set can’t fix,” his trainer, Mike, would often tease the man in denial, knowing good and well by his posture upon entering the ring, slumped shoulders and an ever-present crease between his eyebrows, that another one had bit the dust the night prior. Mike had learned fairly quickly to never ask questions, to simply let Harry work out his emotions as he pleases, even if that means letting him walk out with wrapped fists masking throbbing, crimson knuckles.

Harry has never been one to talk about his sadness either; he finds it prolongs the pain rather than diminishing it, an annoying gnat swarming around an abnormally large bite from a crisp apple, halting his progression in enjoying his afternoon snack because he just can’t catch the bloody thing. His sister has tried to break him from his stubborn ways, even resulting to getting the lanky man drunk off tequila in hopes of him finally opening up about his incessant missed targets; however, that only ever ends up with Gemma’s arms holding up the giggling teddy bear and folding his bulky body into a taxi, mimicking cramming a cotton ball into a straw. Therapy was suggested and waved off with an inked palm, because if he doesn’t want to talk to his sister about it, how on earth is he supposed to talk to a stranger?

Never-ending claims of “I’m fine,” and “It just didn’t work out,” and “Don’t worry ‘bout me,” and “It wasn’t even that serious.” Sure, each breakup took a little something out of the man that insisted he was “fine,” but eventually, a couple dozen inked journal pages later, Harry would be back to his normal, happy-go-lucky, perfectly-kind self.

All of these rang true for most of Harry’s young adulthood.

All of these were common occurrences, that is, until Harry met you.

You were unlike anyone he had ever met. Selfless, but not in an over-bearing, walk-all-over-me kind of way. Funny, but not in an underlying-hatred, fake-laugh kind of way. Genuine, but not in a look-at-me, fake kind of way. Honest, in a I-want-to-know-everything-that-makes-you-you, ask-you-questions-until-the-sun-rises kind of way. Drop-dead-gorgeous in the most unbelievable, glowing, ethereal, kind of way that he constantly reminded you of. You were the perfect balance, the missing diamond to even out the coal on the other end of the scale.

Loving you felt like the ocean.

In the morning when there’s a hazy screen covering your lenses, clouding the soft sunlight in a muted, white-washed filter. It’s more gray, yet still golden as the shining mass of fire lazily rises from its slumber. It’s calm, clouds stretched apart like cobwebs in the faded blue sky above, waves leisurely, almost too relaxed, crashing along the bleached shore then disappearing back into the horizon. Still sleepy, still new, an entire day ahead of you.

In the afternoon when the sun is at its highest and hottest, radiating down ultraviolet rays that burn your skin, causing alarmingly red shoulders in need of aloe that soon progressively heal and turn into a bronzed exterior. Speckles of light dancing upon excited waves, similar to a neighborhood of children dressed in pink polka dots and orange overalls running towards the ice cream truck filled to the brim with dreams of sugary stomachaches. It’s saturated, every color its brightest and loudest, pops of cerulean and coral. It’s a blanket of comfort, a suffocating scarf. It’s sweet. It’s sour. A cool glass of lemonade sinking into a bed of quicksand. Annoying and astonishing.

In the night, when the yellowing presence is long gone in the awakening of the moon, the deepest indigo swirling in between pockets of stars dotted and flecked into the atmosphere like freckles. It’s black and blue. You don’t know where the earth stopss and the water begins, familiarity lost as the waves erase each new footprint in the sand. The tide is an abuser, sweet as it sings you in, terrifying as it pulls you under. Skinny dipping, vulnerable, exciting, adrenaline, heart thumping, diving, sinking, drowning.

The morning, the afternoon, the night. The happening, the honeymoon, the heartbreak.

Ever since it ended, everything Harry had ever known was cast aside, thrown out like a Gucci jumper from last season. For the first time in his twenty-six years of living, fourteen of those juggling the obstacles that relationships can and will bring, Harry was irreversibly numb, a pair of frozen, gloveless fingertips blue from the icy wind. Not only did he linger in the gut-wrenching grief, he was absorbed by it. Instead of waking up each morning tucked into the bare side of your body diffusing innocent warmth, sipping a steaming cup of black coffee received by hands much smaller than his own, he woke up with a stranger laying on his chest, cold, with a pounding headache the bottle of whiskey had gladly supplied from the night before. The days felt as if they lasted an eternity, time stuck in slow-motion, tick, tick, ticking, one second, one and a half, one and three quarters, two. He watched the seasons pass, the grass dying and regenerating into its natural emerald shade from his bedroom, dust pocketing in the corners of a picture frame containing two pairs of sparkling eyes and genuine, toothy grins sitting on the windowsill. Nights consisted of him lying sleepless on his back, eyes wide awake, thumbs twiddling as the echoes of helicopters overhead drone in and out. Dozens of missed calls remained unanswered: Mum, Gem, Mitch, Mike, Adam, Sarah, Mum, Mum, Gem, Mum, Mike, Mitch, Gem, Mitch, Mum…

He was stuck, a pancake glued to an ungreased pan, charred. It was when this melancholy had prolonged for nearly its sixth month, and all at home remedies (which included drinking, writing, drinking because he was writing, and writing because he was drinking) failed to provide any peace that he decided to give in to the recommendations from almost every single one of his friends: therapy. After the first session, he was ready to book it and sprint off to a deserted island with nothing but a coconut filled with rum to accompany his solitude. Turns out that one session was the mento to his coca cola of bottled-up emotions, exploding months’ worth of buried feelings and memories in an hour. It took the will of God (and Gemma purposefully lying and telling him they were going to get lunch) to get Harry back in the baby-pink-painted interior of his therapist’s office. After months of talking, sorting, compartmentalizing, yelling, crying, healing, unpacking, and reflecting, Harry tackled down the closure he had been chasing. A year and an album later, when he heard your name, he no longer felt trapped, heart beating rapidly, trying desperately to break apart his ribcage, he felt unchained—a prisoner uncaged, pounds and pounds of metal unlocked from his wrists, free.

Before, your name was paired with a colorless photo album, snapshots of vibrancy draining into black and white, frozen, lifeless, still.

Now, your name resembled a film reel of the best moments, your sweater hanging in his closet, your arm thrown around his mother’s shoulder in a polaroid candid, your laugh echoing in the acoustics of his shower after you nearly slipped on the lavender bubbles coating sudsy toes, your hands massaging his scalp, twisting curls into detailed plaits, your foamy lips smushing against a stubbled cheek, leaving remnants of peppermint mocha in the winter air, your satin skirt contrasting from his purple flares in his backyard, playing thumb war and whispering confessions in the moonlight. The good memories built a brick wall to block out the bad, dimming the light of your downfall.

“Have you ever been in love?” The question echoes again in Harry’s ears, causing a grin and a dimple to pop into his cheek. The fuzzies. Once, twice, three times. Click, shake, tape.

“Yeah, I have.”

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ivebeentolddreamingsfree · 2 years

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9 I've Been Told Dreaming's Free

Chapter Nine

Charlotte + Jerry + darkroom

After two of Alice’s shows and one of Mother Love Bone, Charlotte had four canisters of film to develop. She had made a plan to use the darkroom at school after her last class on Tuesday. On Monday, Jerry called her to ask if he could see her again.

“I’m gonna sneak you into the darkroom. You can help me develop all these pictures I took of you guys.”

“Nice.”

“Don’t get any ideas, Cantrell.”

“What’s the supposed to mean?” There was amusement and feigned indignation in his voice.

Charlotte rolled her eyes and snorted. “Please.”

“Meet you on campus?”

“Yep, meet me in front of the library at five.”

“It’s a date.”

“Bring a pizza!”

The line went dead and Charlotte shook her head, looking at the receiver before she put it down.

In a new leather jacket she thrifted and a red scarf tied around her neck, Charlotte shifted the heavy messenger bag on her shoulder and smoothed down her black miniskirt over thick black tights. She checked her watch and sighed. Jerry was officially three minutes late. But then she heard it before she saw it. The big, ugly van rumbled around the corner and into the small lot next to Suzzallo. She watched the tall blond get out of the van and pull on a black beanie.

He waved when he saw her and ran up the walkway to greet her. “Hey!”

“Where's the pizza?”

“I figured we could grab one after we do the pictures.”

“But I’m hungry now,” Charlotte deadpanned, looking up at Jerry.

“Uh, I think there’s an open bag of chips in the van.”

She wrinkled her nose and smacked his arm.

The photography lab was in the basement of the library. When Charlotte led Jerry inside, she had to stop and wait while he looked around, up at the tall ceilings and the chandeliers and then at the large, leaded windows.

“Wow!”

“You’ve never been in here before?”

“No, first time. I don’t know a lot of people who go here.”

“It’s a pretty cool library.”

“Yeah. It’s huge.”

Charlotte started for the staircase that led downstairs.

“Do they check out comics”

“I don’t know. Why?”

“That’s about all I could read. You know, something like Peanuts or Garfield”

“Ah, you’re into the classics.” Charlotte grinned and gently elbowed Jerry.

He laughed and nodded. “Yep, classic literature. I love it.”

Charlotte opened the door to the darkroom and flipped the light switch. A red light over the door came on. “After you.”

Jerry stepped up and peered into the darkened room. “You’re not going to hurt me in there. Murder me and leave me for dead.”

“The thought had crossed my mind since you didn’t bring me a pizza.”

He grinned as he went into the room.

Charlotte closed the door and turned the lock. She stood for a moment, letting her eyes adjust. She cringed when a clanging sound was made a few feet away. “What did you just break?”

“Nothing! I can’t see anything!”

“Stop moving.” She reached out and grabbed Jerry’s wrist, pulling him toward her. She could feel he was directly in front of her so Charlotte grabbed for his other hand as well. “Just give it a second to let your eyes get used to it.”

He twined his fingers with hers and shifted forward a bit, forcing Charlotte against the door. “Like this?” The ends of his hair tickled her cheeks. A moment later his lips whispered across hers.

Her breath caught. “I don’t know what kissing has to do with letting your eyes g-“ Charlotte was cut off by a deeper kiss. She felt him raise their joined hands above her head. But when he drew back, she lifted her head away from the door to follow, looking to continue the kiss.

“Okay, show me how to develop pictures.”

“Jerk.”

They worked side by side. Charlotte showed Jerry how to open the film cassette and roll the film on a reel. She put the reel in the film tank and added the chemicals needed to develop the film. Then Charlotte set a timer for ten minutes.

“Now what?” Jerry asked as he pulled himself up to sit on the countertop.

“We wait. What do you want to talk about? Books?” She moved to stand between his knees.

“Tell me more about your thoughts on music.” He leaned back on his hands and wrapped his legs around Charlotte, loosely locking his ankles behind her knees.

“What do you want to know?”

“Favorite song ever.”

“Ever? Hmm.” Charlotte set her hands on his thighs, drumming her fingers as she thought. She could make out Jerry’s eyes gazing at her and his parted lips, waiting in anticipation. “Can’t Help Falling In Love.”

“What? I don’t believe that.”

“You don’t believe that? Why not?” Charlotte crossed her arms and turned around, pretending to be annoyed.

Jerry’s hands moved to her shoulders. “It’s too …obvious.”

“I’m an obvious kind of girl.”

“Chuck, you are anything but obvious.” The hands began to rub and knead. Jerry leaned closed and softly sang the first few lines. “Wise men say only fools rush in, but I can’t help -“

Charlotte abruptly turned back around and threw her arms around his neck, cutting him off with a kiss. Just as Jerry slid his hand to the back of her neck and attempted to deepen the kiss, the timer went off, filling the dark room with an obnoxiously loud, high-pitched bell. Charlotte jumped back and rubbed at her bottom lip as she turned to catch the timer and shut it off.

Reluctantly, they returned to work. Charlotte showed Jerry how to empty the chemicals from the tank and add a stop bath. Once the film had gone through the stop bath and the wetting agent, the next thing to do was hang it to dry.

They repeated the film tank and chemical baths on the other three rolls of film. When it was all hanging to try, Jerry examined some of the negative images. Charlotte set up the enlarger and some trays of developer. When the film was dry, they spent a few minutes cutting each roll down to a slide of five images, making it easier to work with.

Jerry picked an image of himself on stage for Charlotte to enlarge onto an 8x10 sheet of photography paper. As the image came to life in the tray, she had to smile. He was caught, frozen in mid-headbang. His long blond hair looked like an ocean wave cresting.

“I look good!”

“Yeah, that photographer has great timing.”

She picked another to develop. This one was of Stone on stage. She was shooting each member of Mother Love Bone, catching them in candid moments, but the second the camera was trained on Stone, he turned and gave Charlotte the biggest, happiest smile. And it made her heart skip a beat.

Over her shoulder, Jerry murmured, “Good shot.”

#jerry cantrell #i've been told dreamings free #fanfic #band fic #alice in chains

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jayamalprints · 2 years

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All Too Well: The Short Film is an American romantic drama short film written and directed by American singer-songwriter Taylor Swift. It was produced by Saul Projects and Taylor Swift Productions, and distributed by PolyGram Entertainment, Republic Records, and Universal Pictures. Titled after Swift's 2012 song "All Too Well", the film is based on the premise of the song's 10-minute version and stars Sadie Sink and Dylan O'Brien as a romantic couple whose up-and-down relationship ultimately falls apart, with a brief appearance by Swift at the end. It was released to YouTube on November 12, 2021, alongside Swift's second re-recorded album, Red (Taylor's Version).

The film premiered at the AMC Theatres at Lincoln Square, New York City, on November 12 as well, and received a limited theatrical release in major cities. It opened to positive reviews from critics, who praised the direction, cinematography, and Sink's performance.

Synopsis

All Too Well: The Short Film opens with a literary quote from Chilean poet Pablo Neruda: "Love is so short, forgetting is so long". The film chronicles the relationship of two doomed lovers, Her and Him, compounded by an age gap. American singer-songwriter Taylor Swift's 2021 song "All Too Well (10 Minute Version)" plays throughout the film, except during a dialogued conflict between Her and Him.The 15-minute film is divided into seven chapters—"An Upstate Escape", "The First Crack In The Glass", "Are You Real?", "The Breaking Point", "The Reeling", "The Remembering" and the epilogue "Thirteen Years Gone"—each of which represent a formative period in the relationship of Her and Him.

Plot

The story starts with the couple lying in bed together, Her mesmerized by Him. They travel to upstate New York, where she leaves her red scarf at a house belonging to his sister. Their relationship takes a turn at a dinner party, where Him ignores his girlfriend as he is busy catching up with his friends. They fight afterwards; Him is arrogant and dismissive, while a distraught Her is heartbroken but still wants to stay with Him. He apologizes and kisses her to end the argument, and they dance in the refrigerator light. Him starts to distance himself from Her when she needs him, eventually breaking up with Her. A devastated Her weeps in bed, ignoring his phone calls. A montage shows Her alone at parties and miserable on her 21st birthday. Him's life carries on as he walks alone down a Brooklyn street, recalling some of the happier moments in his relationship with Her. The film then jumps 13 years into the future. She has become an author and is celebrating the release of her novel All Too Well, presumably detailing the heartache of her early twenties, reading it out to an audience of fans in a packed bookstore. Outside, an older Him watches Her through the window, wearing the same scarf she had abandoned 13 years ago.

Background and production

Swift announced her second re-recorded album, Red (Taylor's Version), a re-recording of Swift's fourth studio album Red (2012), for release on November 12, 2021. It contains both the re-recorded version of the fan-favorite track "All Too Well" and its 10-minute-long, uncut version as a bonus track "from the vault".All Too Well: The Short Film is a dramatized account of the incidents and dynamics of the relationship described in the song. Swift said the film was an expression of her gratitude to her fans for their reception to the song over the years.

On November 11, 2021, Swift revealed via her social media accounts that All Too Well: The Short Film was shot in 35 mm film format by cinematographer Rina Yang.On a Late Night with Seth Meyers episode on November 12, Swift stated she cast Sink and O'Brien because they were the only two people she imagined playing the roles. Swift added that she is a huge fan of O'Brien's works and that she would not have proceeded with making the film had Sink turned down the offer. Swift explained, "I like working with friends or people who I think would be excited about working with me. I've never made a short film before. I needed to reach out to people who would maybe believe that I was capable with it. I'm just blown away by what [Sink and O'Brien] did—they went out and left it all on the field". Swift further revealed that Sink and O'Brien "were so electric and [improvising] a lot of what they were doing that we just couldn't take the camera off [them]".

lyrics

I walked through the door with you The air was cold But something about it felt like home somehow And I, left my scarf there at your sister's house And you've still got it in your drawer even nowOh, your sweet disposition And my wide-eyed gaze We're singing in the car, getting lost upstate Autumn leaves falling down like pieces into place And I can picture it after all these daysAnd I know it's long gone and that magic's not here no more And I might be okay but I'm not fine at all'Cause there we are again on that little town street You almost ran the red 'cause you were lookin' over at me Wind in my hair, I was there I remember it all too wellPhoto album on the counter Your cheeks were turning red You used to be a little kid with glasses in a twin-sized bed And your mother's telling stories 'bout you on the tee-ball team You told me 'bout your past thinking your future was meAnd I know it's long gone and there was nothing else I could do And I forget about you long enough to forget why I needed to'Cause there we are again in the middle of the night We're dancing 'round the kitchen in the refrigerator light Down the stairs, I was there I remember it all too well, yeahAnd maybe we got lost in translation Maybe I asked for too much But maybe this thing was a masterpiece 'til you tore it all up Running scared, I was there I remember it all too wellAnd you call me up again just to break me like a promise So casually cruel in the name of being honest I'm a crumpled up piece of paper lying here 'Cause I remember it all, all, all Too wellTime won't fly, it's like I'm paralyzed by it I'd like to be my old self again But I'm still trying to find it After plaid shirt days and nights when you made me your own Now you mail back my things and I walk home alone But you keep my old scarf from that very first week 'Cause it reminds you of innocence And it smells like me You can't get rid of it 'Cause you remember it all too well, yeah'Cause there we are again when I loved you so Back before you lost the one real thing you've ever known It was rare, I was there, I remember it all too wellWind in my hair, you were there, you remember it all Down the stairs, you were there, you remember it all It was rare, I was there, I remember it all too well

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