#until henry is the one to start smiling more often than scott

[reikunrei]

trying to be normal and go about my day but my mind is plagued by creelarke thoughts

#litchrally can't stop thinking abt scott being the breath of fresh air and freedom #that henry desperately needs after being in the lab his whole life #scott being so kind and patient and understanding with him #making him laugh and being silly and gentle and kind #like i love fucking unhinged scary henry and scott just being a smiling idiot (affectionate) next to him #but im in tears over the thought of him just making henry softer and softer as time goes by #until henry is the one to start smiling more often than scott #ANYWAY time to take my doggy on a walk #i say things #creelarke #stranger things //

[fallenfurther]

Rival

Happy Thunderbirds Day!!

I thought I would post a little bit of fluff to celebrate (Though I did wear Thunderbird 1 and 3 on my lanyard at work :D ) and get in there before the Whumptober posts start.

This is a little something that I found out the blue having forgotten I'd written half a fic with @selene-tempest in it. She's not demanded much for a while but this one needed to be finished. Enjoy!

**********

John stepped in time with the music, one hand on the hip of the most gorgeous woman in the room. His other hand was in hers which he raised high so she could twist beneath it. The edge of her black and deep purple dress brushed against his trousers as she turned. The lighting in the ballroom was perfect, as expected from the old English mansion. Penelope would never throw an event that didn't pass muster. All his family was somewhere nearby, either dancing with guests or snatching up as many of the canapés as they could. For once, John was able to enjoy the evening, with Selene he could happily dance the night away, avoiding small talk with most of the guests. The last time he'd been forced to come he'd been told the life stories of seven different people with no interest placed on his own. Though John should have expected to have a rival for his wife's attention. So far he'd managed to steer clear of him, but as the pool of women he hadn't danced with reduced, it was only a matter of time. John let his eyes dart around the room, scouting him out.

"Who are you looking for?"

John gave Selene a guilty grin; she knew him too well. Before he could answer a hand fell on John's leg. His rival didn't even reach his hip and dressed in a slightly ruffled black suit, he seemed irresistible to women. With his sparkling blue eyes and dimples, he was a favourite at the party.

"My turn. Dance with me, Selene!"

John glanced down at his nephew. Scott, as Selene's best friend, could wrangle many favours out of her, but his son was twice as bad.

"I'm dancing with Selene right now"

Those blue eyes turned to glare at him.

"No, it's my turn."

The little hand started to push on John's leg. Did the child really think he could push his way between him and Selene? John turned to Selene, who was smirking at the situation. Thankfully, she held her ground.

"I'm dancing with John right now. I'll dance with you later."

That little lip puckered even more.

"No."

Suddenly the pressure on John's leg was gone and the child was in the air.

"I told you to leave them alone."

Scott held the mini-version of himself to his face. In matching suits no one could doubt who the child's father was.

"My turn to dance with Selene."

"And she said not now."

The boy struggled in his father's arms, obviously wanting to be put down so he could continue his attempt to barge between his aunt and uncle.

"Come on, I don't think you've danced with Mrs Langley yet and she's free."

Scott carried the child away with a hand waving toward a friendly older lady that often frequented Lady Penelope's balls. If John remembered correctly she had two sons who were both married but had no grandchildren. She would fall head over heels for the youngest Tracy.

"You'll have to let him dance with me at some point."

John gazed into his wife's eyes as they started to move around the floor again. He wouldn't have minded giving the boy a dance, if dancing with Selene wasn't the best part of being at the event.

"All I have to do is delay it long enough for him to get tired and go to bed."

John slipped his hand around her waist and stepped in closer. His heart rate increased at the contact and a sly grin crossed his face. Selene grinned as their eyes locked.

"I know exactly what you're thinking."

They pressed their lips together, a little longer than appropriate for the setting, but John was past caring. They stayed close for the next dance, energy buzzing between their bodies. Only twenty three minutes until it would be socially acceptable to leave. Penelope had offered them a guest room but they had declined, preferring to head back to London and Selene's cosy little flat. Her car was outside and John had stayed away from the champagne that floated around the room in the hands of the most experienced wait staff. All he had to do was wait.

"I need a drink."

Selene kissed John's cheek before she twisted and sauntered away. Hastening after her, John scouted the room for his nephew. He stood beside Selene as she leant on the bar, asking for her favourite cocktail.

"Oh, you must be John Tracy."

John turned slowly, plastering a smile on his face instead of groaning. The speaker was a tall beanpole of a man, with neat silver hair and a thin hand outstretched. Respecting social convention, John shook the offered hand.

"I am indeed, and you are?"

"Sir Henry Tumblewood."

"Pleasant to meet you, Sir Tumblewood. Have you met my wife, Selene, yet?"

John twisted so his back was against the bar, revealing Selene and bringing her into the conversation.

"Hello fair lady, pleasure to meet you. I am Sir Henry Tumblewood."

John caught Selene's eyes flick at him as she fought a laugh. It appeared Sir Tumblewood would have fitted in well a few hundred years ago. Selene smiled as she took the man's hand to shake it, however Sir Tumblewood twisted it and started to bow down, lips pursed. Thankfully the man's grip on Selene wasn't too strong as she whipped her hand away, shaking it slightly before her fingers wrapped around the glass again. Sir Tumblewood rose with elegance while his previously soft eyes gave Selene a stern gaze. The witch just raised an eyebrow in challenge as she sipped her drink. The aristocrat appeared only slightly disgruntled at her response, making John suspect she wasn't the first to decline his graces. Unfortunately for John, the man turned straight back to him.

"You were just the Tracy I was hoping to meet. You see, I've always had a passion for the sky; you should see my collection of vintage meteorology instruments. I have the most wonderful selection of barometers and a few very unique pyranometers, but I digress. While I have been enjoying my retirement, I need a little something to keep myself busy. I'd like to study the mesosphere, and maybe branch a little into the thermosphere, and seeing as you probably know a lot about that area, I thought you'd be the right person to ask for advice."

"I don't agree with your logic there, though studying the mesosphere and thermosphere are tricky and would require significant funds."

"Do not worry yourself about funds, my dear boy, I have more than enough. Despite coming from old money, I made some good investments in my early years which has allowed that wealth to increase significantly."

John wanted to finish the conversation and his eyes glanced at his wife and her drink, which was still half full. A dance had just started so he might be able to convince her to join the next one. John just had to find a way to politely excuse himself.

"Well, I do know of a few companies who are…"

"I don't want to invest in companies! I've done enough of that. I want to build a rocket that will take the equipment up into the mesosphere."

Sir Tumblewood's voice had sharpened and he was clearly offended at John's most reasonable suggestion. Did this man not know of the many rules and regulations there were regarding research into that part of the atmosphere? A rocket or significant vessel, as he was suggesting, would need so many permissions and inspections before being allowed to launch. Despite his frustrations, John put on his best tone to try and calm the man.

"Sir, I didn't mean to offend you, however the legislation around sending rockets and similar devices up into the mesosphere would make it extremely difficult for you…"

"I have a friend who has done it. He's already advised me on the licences I will require and even allowed me to survey his previous designs..."

John didn't like being interrupted, particularly by someone who wanted his help but didn't respect his opinion when it was given. He could already tell this conversation was going to go nowhere. John was only half listening to Sir Tumblewood's drabbles as he turned to Selene. His heart dropped as a small figure raced towards them.

"Selene!!"

The cry made everyone around them turn, and even Sir Tumblewood paused, as his nephew flung himself into Selene's legs. That small face gazed up, surrounded by the fabric of her dress with sparkling hopeful eyes.

"Dance with me, Selene."

Scott appeared, having briskly followed after the boy.

"Oh my, isn't he just the most handsome little thing!"

A well dressed lady had appeared on Sir Tumblewood's arm, her pleasant weathered face betraying her age.

"Please, Selene."

John gazed down at the boy, knowing he was about to watch his wife be led onto the dancefloor, leaving him to converse with Sir Tumblewood without backup. Both Selene and Scott were about to speak when the lady beat them to it.

"Go on, dear, give the lad a dance. He's smitten with you."

"It's actually getting close to his bedtime."

Scott tried to explain, crouching down to his son's level. John’s brother placed his hand on the child's shoulder, bringing himself into the child's focus.

"It's bedtime."

"Noooo!"

A small lip puckered as fists clenched the fabric of Selene's dress.

"Come on."

His nephew shook his head and pressed his little body into Selene's legs. Scott gently encouraged he's son to let go, though it wasn't having much effect. Selene's cocktail was suddenly being held before him, and John just took it. There was only one way out of the situation without causing a scene.

"One last dance with Auntie Selene, okay? Then Daddy's going to take you upstairs to bed."

A wide dimpled grin radiated up at her and a hand stretched out asking for hers. Selene accepted the small hand in hers and was slowly led away. Scott stood and took Selene's place beside John as the pair started to dance before them.

"Isn't that just the sweetest thing?"

John caught Scott shaking his head out the corner of his eye, the man's gaze firmly on his child. Selene had to bend over so she could hold her nephew's hands, and John couldn't help but smile as the pair grinned at each other. The boy bounced around, forcing Selene to turn in circles, though he started to slow down very quickly.

"Now, Mr John Tracy, we were discussing the project and the legislation around it. Like I said, my friend has informed me of the licenses I will require and I was wondering if you could offer some suggestions on the matter of design. I've seen a few of my friend's, and they are extravagant to say the least, however they did pass muster and showed some success…"

John forced himself to listen, keeping one eye on the dancing pair. It appeared the night really was catching up with his nephew. After his pace had slowed, Selene had scooped him up and danced with him in her arms. They pair swayed together happily while Sir Tumblewood babbled on at John.

"Excuse me for barging in," Scott's voice was full of authority, though John hadn't realised he was listening, "this friend of yours sounds a lot like Langstrom Fischler."

"You know Mr Fischler?"

Sir Tumblewood brightened up at the mention of the name. It appeared Scott was on the money.

"I do, in a professional manner. That man's designs are world renowned for being poorly designed and a safety risk to anyone onboard or in the vicinity. If you are unwilling to listen to my brother, and prefer Mr Fischler’s guidance, then I can assure you your endeavours will be in vain."

"I beg your pardon! Mr Fischler is the son of a good friend of mine, a friend whose reputation is infallible."

"I'm sure your friend has a spotless reputation, but I am informing you that his son does not share that reputation."

Selene returned with a content young man in her arms. Their nephew's head was resting against her shoulder, the late evening obviously catching up with him.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I have to tend to my son."

Scott held out his arms to his child, who turned back to Selene and planted a kiss on her cheek.

"Love you, Selene."

"I love you too, sweetie."

A hug later and the boy was in his father's arms, displaying his teeth with the biggest yawn John had ever seen him do. John checked his watch as he passed Selene her cocktail back. She sipped it gratefully. John slid his hand behind her so it was on the small of her back.

"Have you enough energy for one last dance before I chauffeur you back to London?"

"I do."

John kissed her, before turning back to Sir Tumblewood.

"You'll have to excuse me, Sir, my presence is required on the dancefloor. Have a pleasant rest of the evening."

Selene slid her empty glass onto the bar before looping her arm in John's. Just ahead of them Scott turned.

"See you two back at the island. Have fun."

His brother gave them a cheeky grin and a wink, which John let slide as a small hand waved goodbye.

"Bye, bye."

Scott headed over to the mirrored wall where Penelope and Gordon were standing, deep in conversation with some of the other attendees. It would be rude to leave without thanking the host, and John would be doing just the same in a few minutes. As they stepped into the dancers, the music slowed and gave time for people to change partners before the next dance began. They didn't go too far onto the floor before turning to face each other. John guided Selene in close, stealing a kiss before the dance started. They swayed slowly, eyes on each other, enjoying the moment but also eager to head back to Camden for some privacy.

#thunderbirds are go #john tracy #selene tempest #thunderbirds fanfiction #scott tracy #scott's son #baby tracy #dancing #soiree #rival #fluff #cute little boy

[jmespottuh]

❛  if there’s one thing the gods love, it’s tragedy. with wings that burn and boys who fall. ❜

* ╰   brandon arreaga  ;  17 ;  he/him  —— wow, james potter sure has changed. i guess he is feeling isolated from the other gryffindor members. guess you can’t really blame them. i still remember them being so charming & incisive now they just seem dependent & inexorable.  guess being a  pureblood isn’t helping matters much either.  i’m hopeful though. they’ll be just fine.

links: pinterest, stats character parallels: bellamy blake ( the 100 ), shane madej ( buzzfeed unsolved ), jake peralta ( brooklyn nine-nine ), stefan salvatore ( the vampire diaries ), scott mccall ( teen wolf ), steve harrington ( stranger things )

james henry potter ( named for two his two grandfathers, maternal and paternal respectively ) was born on april 4th, 1960 to two of the most loving parents a child could have.

fleamont and euphemia had been trying for a child for years. they’d been together for basically all of time, having been that typical good-looking, well liked couple in hogwarts that everyone always just assumes will get married ( spoiler alert: they did ), however had had to postpone kids due to fleamont’s brief stint as a professional quidditch player for eight years following their graduation. after that, they would try every month for a child, and after many years of disappointment, eventually gave up. it was during this time that fleamont developed the sleekeazy hair potion which only added to their immense wealth. 

finally at age forty-one, they were surprised with the arrival of james. obviously, they saw him as their miracle child, and as such he was pampered and completely spoiled from the moment he was born.

i cannot stress enough how much this spoiled upbringing shaped james into the person he is today. if you’re wondering why he was ever an arrogant prick, it’s because he was always used to getting absolutely everything he ever wanted. he grew up with money, he grew up with fame and with every bit of attention he could garner, and so it was really no wonder he was a bit of an asshole by the time he started at hogwarts.

obviously, james had a pretty cushy childhood, and as such, shit didn’t start getting real until he started at hogwarts. 

it took all of three seconds for the hat to sort him into gryffindor, and i guess you could say he pretty much considered himself to be the gem of the house. he was the absolute epitome of a gryffindor, basically considered him the poster boy and all but expected everyone to love him.

really did not help his ego to know that everyone did.

in typical sterotype-gryffindor fashion, james hated slytherin. he had always been taught growing up that purists were basically the root of all evil, and his father had had no qualms in lumping all these people in with the house of the snakes. james and his friends took a particular disliking to severus snape almost immediately for the poncy way in which he seemed to believe he was superior to all for his intelligence and his house status, and this dislike only grew when lily evans was tossed into the mix, too.

for basically the first four or five years of hogwarts, james really was that stereotypical arrogant asshole that he’s often made out to be. he always got everything he asked for, he was incredibly popular and incredibly intelligent, he had the most amazing friends and his eyes on the most amazing girl. he was set!! shit was good!!

shit was not good, though. definitely was not.

despite having known of remus’ furry little problem since second year, things didn’t really start to settle in james how awful it was until third or fourth year. he hated seeing his friend in pain, he hated that he couldn’t help, and so he rallied the boys to put into action their worst plan yet!!!!

becoming animagi!!!!!!

it took fucking forever, obviously, but by the end of fourth year they did it!! we stan icons

except then in fifth year shit hit the fan again in just, like… so many ways

first, it was the whole severus ‘mudblood’ situation. honestly, james was absolutely furious. he’d always hated snape but this just made everything 1000 times worse. even if it had happened to anyone else, he would have been fuming. but for it to have happened to lily like… yikes. 

this was also a horrible time for james though because lily rejected him for the thousandth time. like, look, what a yikes thing to think when she was just called a mudblood, but frankly he was sick of being rejected and he was sick of being the asshole who kept pressuring her so that was the breaking point — he gave up on her. 

and tbh, he changed a lot from here on out. grew up!! became a better person bc he saw how horrible snap was and decided he was sick of horrible people!! saw, recognised and acknowledged that just bc he was hot and intelligent and rich he wasn’t always going to get everything he wanted ( see: miss evans ) and just generally learned that oh shit the world doesn’t revolve around him!!!

oh and then there was that whole thing with sirius and snape and remus the werewolf and ohhhh boyyyy…. that infuriated him. 

he loves his bros so much and y’all know he would die for them, but to see his friend abuse remus’ pain and suffering for his own gain was heart wrenching. it just pushed him further to pull him in line, to realise that not everything was about games, or petty rivalry, or ‘ getting the girl ’ — life was heartache and mistakes and it was never going to go the way he wanted it to.

now look, this isn’t all to say that james is now a super strict, super intense, brooding weirdo. he’s still a bit of a child, and he’s still a bit of an arrogant prick, but ultimately what wins out is his morals — every time. he wants to lead the world to a better place, without war and without hate, he wants everyone to have the same opportunities he had as a kid and he wants nothing more than for blood purity to be eradicated.

get that shit outta my house!!! gross!!!!!!

now in his final year, james is always flipping between taking his role as head boy deadly serious and turning it into one big game of mischief. he’s still a marauder at heart, after all, and has definitely abused his power sometimes for the benefit of fun and games, but when it comes down to it, he can be very strict and lowkey paternal. the leader really just…. popped right outta him, it came to play and it came hard, and really you’d think he’s minister for magic with how serious he treats it sometimes.

i hate him.

the disappearance of one of his best friends, one peter pettigrew, landed james to flop pretty fucking hard on the side of seriousness. once you spend months without knowing where your best friend is, thinking he’s dead, you’re bound to start to lose a bit of that which once made you smile. it was this piled on top of what james had already been feeling which led the head boy to start finding ways he could join the revolution within the walls of hogwarts --- it’s been bloody hard but james is determined to make a difference, to make sure no one else he loves suffers in a war that they never asked to fight in the first place.

anyway here’s some fun facts that didn’t fit up top

james is a lot less intense with his hatred for slytherin’s. he has come to recognise that not everyone from that lifestyle is going to be the same, not everyone who grew up a certain way or was sorted into a certain house is going to think with a deadly mind, and while he’s still a bit wary, he’s a lot more relaxed about it, especially as head boy ( gotta at least pretend shit’s fair !!! )

he’s very dependent as in like… boi cannot go a week without his friends. he is used to having people to bounce off, that’s always the type of leader he has been, and as much as he would probably be amazing at anything on his own, he’s never really tried. too scared!! i hate him!!!!!

super unforgiving. like, if you have gotten on his bad side…. i’m sorry. it is going to be very difficult to return from there. his moral compass is pretty black and white, you’re either good or your bad, and if you’ve done something he considers bad well sucks to be you, i guess. sorry not sorry.

takes his quidditch very seriously tbh. so many people have told him he needs to be a pro like his dad, but he’s like haha fuck you i know what i wanna do ( hint hint: he wants to rule that goddamn auror office, make that shit far more efficient then he thinks it is now ). but srsly, he’s so intense abt the game and it really like… idk gets him in the zone, keeps him level-headed in amongst all this chaos. 

he’s smart. i guess. straight a’s and shit idk. just very naturally intelligent, finds everything he does easy, like.. really is that asshole who is just good at everything he does.

#incantareintro #| ❛ the shackles of a martyr. ❜ ( character study. ) #enjoy this rambly mess of a recycled intro that most of yall have read before fsjaklg

[bevioletskies]

let’s stay together

summary: For all his missteps and mishaps, Scott has been on pretty good terms with the Pym-Van Dyne family lately. That is, until Cassie started calling Hank "Grandpa".

a/n: Fic title is from the song Let's Stay Together by Al Green because I've yet to figure out how to title Scott/Hope fics. Takes place post-Ant-Man and the Wasp, with the optimistic assumption that they at least had a month to relax before that post-credits scene.

word count: 3.9k | ao3

The first time it happened, Scott was reasonably certain that the universe had momentarily ceased to exist, or at least, that’s what it felt like. All the air had been sucked out of the room, everything went mind-numbingly silent, and out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Hank turning an alarmingly violent shade of red. Well, THAT can’t be good, he thought.

“Oh!” Janet finally said after a minute too long. Hank was now purple.

So, Scott did what any reasonable person would do (that’s what he told himself, anyway) and promptly stood, hauled his daughter up by the armpits before she could finish her bite of mashed potatoes, and practically carried her to the front door. “This-was-great-we-should-really-do-this-again-sometime-okay-bye!” he blurted out, tripping over his own feet in his attempt to pull on his shoes and jacket at the same time.

“Scott?” Hope was half-skeptical, half-concerned, as she often was when it came to Scott’s...Scott-ness, but before she could get up and follow him, the door slammed shut. She glanced over at Hank; his knuckles were white. “...did Cassie just call you ‘grandpa’?”

“Don’t,” Hank grouched. The color in his face was slowly returning to normal, but he was still clutching his steak knife with a worryingly vice-like grip. Janet patted his hand consolingly before resuming her dinner like nothing had happened.

Hope texted Scott the moment dinner was over, reassuring him that it wasn’t as bad as he thought - Hank had only ranted for three minutes about being anyone’s grandfather, then Janet interrupted to remind him of his age - but Scott’s reply was an uncharacteristically curt response about arriving late at the laboratory tomorrow morning. It was only because of Hope’s good memory that she remembered that it was because Maggie and Paxton were picking up Cassie from Scott’s place, and not that Scott decided to preemptively berate himself at home before joining them to work on the latest iteration of suits.

Janet, who was still getting used to an adult daughter and not the child she’d unintentionally left behind, hovered in worry, fretting over Hope’s shoulder at Scott’s message. “Seriously, Mom, it’s okay,” Hope repeated for the fifth time while she put her jacket on, preparing to leave for the night. “I’m not seven or sixteen, remember? Nothing to worry about. Scott’s just a little...excitable.”

“That’s one way of putting it,” Hank grumbled from the sitting room. Despite her best efforts, Hope couldn’t help but roll her eyes like a child.

“Bye, Dad,” she called, kissing Janet briefly on the cheek before walking out the door.

The next morning, Scott arrived even later than he said he was going to be, looking just as agitated as he’d sounded last night. “Hope, I swear, I didn’t say anything about - ”

“I’m sure you didn’t,” she said calmly. “Besides, he’s probably forgotten all about it.”

“I haven’t.” Hank emerged from behind one of the enormous machines, startling Scott. “Did you - ”

“Nope!” Scott said a little too quickly. “Hank, I would never - ”

“Does she call her anything?” Hank wildly brandished his pen in Hope’s direction. She fixed him with a stern expression in return, plucking the pen from his hand and neatly tucking it into the breast pocket of his sweater vest.

“Henry,” Janet called from across the room.

“I already told you she doesn’t,” Hope said exasperatedly. “Can we focus, please?”

“Grandpa,” Hank muttered under his breath as he returned to his workbench, where Janet gave him a playful poke for his troubles.

“For the record, I think Mom was secretly thrilled,” Hope whispered to Scott. He snickered in relief.

After the day’s work was done, Scott and Hope said their goodbyes to a cheerful Janet and a temperamental Hank (though really, when were either of them anything else) and got into Hope’s car, promptly shrinking down to a more...elusive size. It was a new routine for them after Scott had completed the terms of his house arrest, and although there was still a search out for Hope and her parents, it wasn’t too difficult for them to evade the authorities now that they had everything and every one in one place. Scott spent his weekdays working at X-Con Security and Pym Tech, while he and Hope, sometimes Cassie, spent their weekends at his place. Hope had grown quite attached to Scott’s house, finding it far more inviting than her own apartment, and of course, she’d adored Cassie the moment they met. After everything she and her father had been through ever since the Sokovia Accords had come into play, it was nice to have some normalcy in her life.

Scott drummed his fingers restlessly against the window. “Where do you think this whole ‘grandpa’ thing started?”

Hope groaned. “I thought we were going to drop this, Scott. Besides, you and Cassie have been coming to dinner for several weeks now and Dad’s the right age to be her grandpa, so it just...came out. Not that big of a deal.”

“Yeah, but what if it means something?” Hope’s eyes briefly flickered over to his unusually serious expression. “Hank’s never been a big fan of...us.”

“Then it’s good that what he thinks has no impact on our relationship,” Hope said testily, her grip tightening on the steering wheel. Scott winced in memory of how angry she’d been when they first met, often at Scott himself for being in her life, but mostly at Hank for everything he’d done - or rather, hadn’t done. “He kept me out of his life long enough. Just because we’re back to being a family, it doesn’t give him the right to tell me what I can and can’t do.”

“Of course,” he said automatically. He suddenly looked very interested in the loose thread on his jacket sleeve, picking at it with a strange fixation. “Look, I just don’t wanna be the reason you guys fight again, alright? And if he doesn’t want me to be part of your family - ”

“Oh, Scott.” Hope briefly let go of the wheel to squeeze his shoulder in reassurance. “Dad’s got his hangups about you, but you know him, he’s like that with everyone. Doesn’t mean he wants to cut you out. Besides, Mom adores you, and there’s no way he’ll go against her.”

Scott laughed despite himself, his shoulders finally relaxing as he settled back into his seat. “Your mom’s great. Perceptive, too. It’s almost like she can see inside my head - ”

“That joke was only funny the first time,” Hope interrupted, though there was a smile in her voice as she said it. “Please stop telling people my mom was inside you without context.”

Another week went by - a relatively uneventful one at that, all things considered, in which the only mishap they encountered was a couple of random thieves that tried to break into the lab and received an unpleasant surprise in return for their efforts - before Cassie was at Scott’s house again. On the first morning of her return, she was chatting a mile per minute about her most recent soccer game, the last math test she’d had, and anything else that came to mind. “How come Hope isn’t here?” Cassie asked once she’d taken a second to breathe between her bites of cereal.

“She doesn’t live here, peanut,” Scott reminded her, absent-mindedly thumbing through the newspaper.

“But why not? She stays over all the time, and she drives you places, and - ”

“That doesn’t mean she has to live here,” Scott pointed out. He then sighed in realization, knowing they had to talk about it eventually, and now was as good a time as ever. “Hey, when you called Hank ‘Grandpa’...did you mean to do that?”

“Yes,” Cassie said bluntly. “Hope is kind of like my second mom, so her daddy is kind of like my grandpa.”

“Okay, well, I think you scared him a little,” Scott said gently. “I’m sure Hope loves the idea of being your second mom, but it’s making Hank feel like me and her are getting really serious.”

“Serious?” Cassie furrowed her brow in adorable confusion.

“Like we’re gonna get married.” Scott sat up straight as if he just realized what he’d said. “Which is...I mean, you know...wow.”

“But don’t you wanna marry her, Daddy?” Cassie prompted, in the sort of tone she used when she asked him to help with her science homework, like it was just another topic of conversation. “She’s your partner.”

“That’s not - I - oh.” Scott rubbed his temples, willing the conversation to go away on its own. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the idea; in fact, the very idea of marrying Hope was simultaneously thrilling and terrifying and very much something he’d like to do. But it was far too early in the morning to be processing anything more complex than the latest episode of Cassie’s favorite morning cartoon. “Finish your breakfast, okay? We gotta head out soon.”

It was only when the two of them got in Scott’s car - a relatively new investment for him, though it was about as rundown as Luis’s van - that he remembered they were picking up Hope on the way to Cassie’s school. Usually, he enjoyed the ten minutes they had together, where he could just sit back and listen to two of his favorite people in the world chat and laugh like they’d known each other forever, but now he was rather paranoid that Cassie was going to do...something.

“Hey, you two,” Hope smiled, radiant, as she got into the passenger’s seat, leaning across to briefly kiss him. “You’re early today.”

“Daddy wanted to finish breakfast super fast,” Cassie shrugged, grinning toothily. “I think he was excited to see you.”

“Is that so?” Hope quirked an eyebrow in his direction before putting her seatbelt on. “Well, better early than late, right?”

“Right,” Cassie chirped. Scott started the engine, crossing his fingers that she wouldn’t bring it up - “Daddy thinks your daddy is scared of him.” - and there she went. Fantastic.

“What?” Hope rounded on him instantly. “Scott.”

“Listen...sometimes, we say things that - ”

“Scott,” Hope repeated. It amazed him that she was capable of saying his name so affectionately some of the time and so authoritatively, well, most of the time.

“Cassie,” Scott said firmly, glancing at her through the rearview mirror.

“Daddy,” Cassie said plaintively, blinking innocently in return. When that didn’t work, she added, “I don’t want anyone to be scared of anyone,” her bottom lip wobbling in the way that they all knew would change anyone’s mind no matter what.

“I didn’t say Hank was scared of me,” Scott finally explained with a sigh, briefly glancing over at an unimpressed Hope. “It’s just what I was saying before. About him and our relationship.”

“Of course you didn’t let this go,” Hope groaned, turning to face the window. “When it was just me and Dad on the run, he had a lot to say about you. But he never said anything about us.” She turned to look at Cassie, whose nose was scrunched up in worry. “No one’s scared of anyone, alright?”

“So...he doesn’t think Daddy’s gonna ask you to marry him?” Cassie asked. Scott felt the gas pedal slip underneath his feet, nearly flinging them all forward in the process. For the second time that week, he felt his chest seize up with one single word blaring through his head like a siren - PANIC.

“What,” Hope said flatly.

“Hey, hey, no distracting the driver,” he said weakly. “Besides, didn’t we say we were gonna talk about the regulator in my suit before we get to the lab, something about the whatchamacallit - ”

“Were you going to ask me to marry you?”

“No, I - ”

“So you don’t want to marry me.”

Scott paused. “Hope, I gotta be honest, I don’t really know what the right answer is.”

Hope merely shook her head, jaw clenched tight, staring straight ahead. “Just drive, Scott.”

Cassie looked at Scott in silent apology once they dropped her off, hugging Hope as she always did before running up the steps to the front door. The rest of the car ride was expectedly uncomfortable, lacking a single word out of either of them. Upon arriving at the laboratory, Hope continued on like nothing was wrong, hanging up her coat and setting down her bag, briefly hugging Hank and Janet with a warm smile. She then settled down at one of the workbenches and promptly got to work on her faulty blasters, her back pointedly turned on everything else.

Scott meandered around for a bit, picking at the wires in his suit’s regulator (“You’ve got some nerve calling this a working suit, Hank!” he’d said pretty much every single day since he first put it on) but entirely unable to concentrate. All he could think about was how he’d managed to mess things up with Hope, again, and he didn’t even have to get arrested this time for it to happen.

“Don’t you look all bothered?” He looked up to see Janet smiling pityingly at him from the other side of his table. “What’s troubling you, Scott?”

“Didn’t sleep great,” he lied. Janet quirked an eyebrow.

“It’s cute how you think you can lie to me,” she said not unkindly, clicking her tongue in disapproval. “Is it about the whole ‘grandpa’ thing? Because I can’t tell who’s more hung up about it, you or Henry!”

“I’m embarrassed she said it in the first place,” he admitted, setting his tools down. “Cassie loves being around you guys, and I guess I should’ve seen it coming.”

“It’s okay,” Janet said, squeezing his arm. “Personally, I’d love it if Cassie thought of us as her grandparents, she’s one of the loveliest kids I’ve ever met. Reminds me a lot of Hope...before I left her.” Her smile faltered somewhat. “Is it you and Hope, then?”

“You could say that,” Scott said carefully. He glanced across the room to where she was sitting. She hadn’t looked at him since they got out of the car.

“It’s one day at a time with that one, isn’t it?” Janet hummed, briefly turning on her heel to look at her daughter, too. “Always have to remind myself she’s so much...more now. All the things she wants, all the things she is, I have to get used to that.” She turned back to look at Scott knowingly. “That goes for you, too.”

“I’m gonna fix it, Janet,” he promised. “And...please don’t tell Hank.”

Janet laughed throatily, though Scott wasn’t sure what was so funny. “Oh, honey, what makes you think he didn’t already notice?”

Hank, meanwhile, sidled up to Hope’s side in a way that he thought was subtle enough, but she merely gave him a look that said, “I know exactly what you’re doing, and I don’t like it”. “What?” he barked, embarrassed. “I wanted to check your progress on the - ”

“Dad,” Hope said firmly. “Just spit it out, okay?”

“You’ve been tense,” he observed, pulling up a stool so he could sit beside her. “I wanna know why.”

“Because it’s affecting our work?” she snorted, turning back to her blasters.

“Because you’re my daughter.” Her hands paused in mid-air. “I don’t give a damn about the work right now. You’ve been all wound up lately, and it’s affecting you. So what is it?”

Hope couldn’t help but smile at her dad’s usual gruff tone, how it completely failed to hide his concern. “It just...feels like we’re in between everything right now. We’re sort of on the run but we sort of aren’t, we have Mom back but we’re trying to figure out how to be a family again, not to mention you and Scott being weird about what Cassie said even though we’re all growing closer...I’m a little stressed out, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. I promise.”

Hank smiled ruefully. “Someday, those Sokovia Accords are going to be through, and we’ll be free. Respected. And me and your mother, we’re going to make sure you don’t have a single thing to worry about. I’m sure Scott’s on board, too.”

“Surprised to hear you say that,” she admitted. “You really need to stop antagonizing him, okay? I’ve forgiven him for Germany, and I think it’s time you did, too.”

“I thought I already did,” he said, briefly looking to where Scott and Janet were conversing. Janet seemed to be laughing at something that Scott couldn’t quite follow; the very idea that she knew something he didn’t amused Hank greatly. “What, you think I’m working with him and inviting him and his daughter to our house every week because I’m angry ?”

“It’s hard to tell with you sometimes,” she shot back without missing a beat, though her grin was widening regardless. “Be nice, Dad.”

“I’ll...try to say something at our next dinner,” he said through gritted teeth as if the thought of expressing any emotion other than mild annoyance toward Scott was inherently painful. “But I mean it, Hope. Once this Accord nonsense is all over, we’ll get my company back on track, and we’ll be a family. All of us.”

Hope nodded, her eyes shining, and reached out to squeeze her father’s shoulder. “And I won’t vote you out of our company this time.”

Hank chuckled, briefly leaning in to kiss her on the forehead. “That’s my girl.”

Scott and Hope got into Scott’s car several hours later, both still somewhat tense. The rest of their time at the lab had been quiet, with Hank and Janet doing most of the talking. Both of them clearly suspected that there was more to it than they’d discussed, but wisely decided to let it be. Or rather, Janet had caught Hank by the arm every single time he seemed like he was about to open his mouth. “We have to remember she’s an adult, Henry,” she had murmured. “I know we both want her to need our help, but she doesn’t. Not this time.”

“I’m sorry,” Scott said the moment they were on the road.

“You’ve been apologizing a lot lately,” Hope sighed. “What is it for this time?”

“Freaking out, not letting stuff go, and everything that Cassie said this morning,” he replied like a child reciting the alphabet, listing his fingers off on one hand, the other drumming restlessly against the steering wheel. “I almost got over it, you know? But then when we were having breakfast this morning, Cassie said all this stuff about living together, getting married...I started overthinking it.”

She nodded, sinking back into her seat. Her anger had mostly dissipated over the course of the day, evolving into something more akin to contemplation. “I know you, Scott,” she said quietly. “Maybe we haven’t known each other for as long as we think, but I know you. And you know me. You know that I’m not going to sit around waiting for you to tell me or ask me anything. So just...get to the point, and we can move on. For good.”

Scott inhaled, then let out a short huff of an exhale, his fingers still drumming on the steering wheel, though quieter now. “You’re my partner, Hope. In more ways than one. And I...do wanna marry you someday, just not yet. It’s early, and there’s too much going on, and it feels like - ”

“ - like we’re in between?” Hope guessed, smiling slightly.

“Yeah, exactly.” He looked away for a moment to return the smile, his eyes twinkling in the way that made her feel just a little bit more at ease about everything. “So why don’t we get to the ‘in between’ first?”

She paused. “What do you mean?”

“Move in with me. Or, I guess we could get a different place together if you want more space, though I dunno if I can afford a house as big as your parents’, but maybe you could, and - ”

“Okay,” she said, biting her lip to stop herself from grinning as giddily as she felt. “And for the record, I meant it when I said I’m not going to sit around and wait for you to ask.” She paused, letting the smile spread across her face despite herself. “Maybe someday, I’ll ask instead.”

Hank and Janet arrived at the laboratory at precisely nine in the morning, chatting quietly in the elevator ride up to their floor. They hung up their jackets, changed them out for their lab coats and protective equipment, and Hank went about telling his ants their orders for the day. Janet, on the other hand, went to log in on the main computer, only to find someone was already in her seat.

“Hi Grandma,” Cassie said, smiling like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth.

Not missing a beat, Janet immediately drew her into a hug, then leaned back to tuck Cassie’s hair behind her ears. “Hey, sweetheart! Never seen you in here before,” she fussed, beaming. “You looking for a science lesson today?”

“Yes, please,” Cassie chorused. “But first, Daddy and Hope wanted to tell you something.”

Janet turned to see Scott and Hope approaching from the other room, looking somewhat sheepish. Instinctively, her eyes flickered to Hope’s stomach, though her daughter’s immediate visceral response told her she was incorrect. Hank then came over to join them, letting out a stifled grunt when Cassie went to hug him as well, though he patted her on the back in return. “What’s this all about?” he asked.

“I’m moving in with Scott,” Hope announced matter-of-factly, holding up a copy of his house keys. “I’ve had it with hiding in my own apartment, what with technically being on the run and all, so this just made sense.”

“Glad I’m the most logical choice,” Scott drawled, nodding her way. “So Hank, Janet...what do you guys think?”

“Oh, we think it’s wonderful! Don’t we, Henry?” Janet exclaimed, briefly turning to narrow her eyes at her husband before clapping her hands together in excitement. “My precious jellybean - ” She swept Hope and Scott into her arms, letting out an overwhelmed sob of elation into her daughter’s shoulder. Hank, whose jaw was clenched but was also not one to be left behind, walked over to awkwardly clap his hand on Scott’s shoulder; Cassie followed, nestling herself in under everyone’s arms.

“Didn’t realize we were gonna have a group hug today.” Still, Scott tried his best to get his arms around everyone, even Hank, who merely squirmed. “If I’d known, I would’ve remembered deodorant - ”

“Scott, I swear to god - ”

“Obviously I’m wearing deodorant, Hank, what kind of guy do you think I am?”

“Okay, I think we’re done here,” Hope sighed, withdrawing herself from the mass of bodies. “So Cassie, you ready for my parents to show you the ropes?” She nodded, looking unusually shy, staring up at both Hank and Janet expectantly.

To everyone’s surprise, it was Hank who reached for her first, gently taking her by the shoulder and guiding her over to his workbench. “Let’s set you up with some protective gear. There’ll be no accidents in my lab today.”

“Yes, Doctor Pym,” Cassie said obediently, hoisting herself up onto the bench stool. Hank paused, turning to look at her, to really look at her. Cassie’s eyes were bright, wide, inquisitive, her posture both anticipatory and patient. He looked over at the others, where Janet was standing between Hope and Scott, her hand over her mouth in a poor attempt to hide her pleased smile. Hope’s eyes shone back at him; he barely noticed her fingers intertwined with Scott’s.

Hank turned back to Cassie. “You know what? ‘Grandpa’ is okay, too.”

a/n: I have been talking about writing this fic for at least six months now and I'm sure some far better version of it exists elsewhere, but I finally finished! Still figuring out my characterization of these lovely characters, so bear with me if anything seems particularly OOC, and I'm looking forward to writing even more Scott/Hope in the future and getting better at doing so. Thanks so much for reading, likes and reblogs would be much appreciated, and I hope you enjoyed :)

#langdyne #scotthope #hopescott #langdyne fic #scotthope fic #myfic #marvel #not 100% sure if the characterization is accurate but i definitely wanna practice some more with these lovelies

[cescalr]

Hi same anon from before, I wanted to request a stalia post break up au "we broke up after I left and moved away and months later I find out you rushed to the airport to stop me but you were too late" or "I found the ring when i was moving stuff out of your apartment and now everything makes sense" Pleasee

hmm, alright, here we go:

‘We broke up, and after I’d already left and moved away, months later, I found out that you’d rushed to the airport to stop me but you were too late.’

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

Malia hadn’t really had any reason to stay in Beacon Hills, all things considered. She’d lost her boyfriend, her mother had tried to kill her, her ex had been erased from reality - Malia hadn’t had any reason to stay. Sure, she’d had friends - friends who had decided her feelings for her ex didn’t exist, friends who had guilt tripped her into staying as long as she did - Malia had had to leave. Her life in Beacon Hills had never been a nice one even when she’d had the memories of her ex - and, once she got them back, that’s what he was. Her ex. Someone who... just, well, didn’t love her any longer.

Or did he? Malia didn’t spend her time thinking about those sorts of things - they hurt too much. And besides, as far as Malia knows, Lydia had resolved to start something with him anyway, and - it hurt, sure, but Malia...

He’d told Lydia he’d loved her. That was enough for Malia.

So yes. Malia booked tickets. She’s been in France for a few months now and it’s - nice. The younger drinking age is a bonus, and even if she’s not very good at French the language is nice enough on her ears. The boys are cute enough, even if a few look down on her for not speaking French which she gets; she’s in France, after all. Anyway, Malia’s staying with Isaac, who lives in a three-bed apartment near where Chris Argent lives with all his Argent buddies. 

Isaac isn’t around much, really, so Malia hasn’t gotten to know him very well. She’s kind of glad, in a way, because he vaguely reminds her of Stiles. And that... actually hurts, a little. The vagueness. 

Regardless, Malia’s free to do what she wants. Which is cool, and all, but she’s only free for the rest of the year. Come twenty-fifteen, Malia will no longer be free. Which, ugh, but - that’s fine. A year out of education isn’t a bad thing; Malia had nine and she’s done pretty well for herself, all things considered.

It’s not like Malia doesn’t miss Beacon Hills in a weird kind of way, though. Not that she isn’t glad to be out of that hell hole, it’s just that - well, it was familiar. She had friends there, she’d had a home, her dad - not, vehemently not Peter - and it had been - safe. At least emotionally.

Here - it’s so different. Small. Beacon Hills was small enough, sure, but that’s by the standards of a country way, way bigger than France. Malia feels like she could run across the entirety of the width of France and still be back by dinner, and that’s - Stifling, in a way. 

So sue her. She’s feeling nostalgic. It’s been - months, sure, and Malia... well. Call her curious.

Malia opens her laptop and goes with a safe option. She calls up her dad, first - on her phone, actually, not her laptop; that’s for later - and sees what he’s got going on. She tries her best to be discrete about it, and Henry seems to be unaware of her gentle probing for info.

He’s fine; his job is going okay, now that he’s drinking less, and - so far as he tells her - nobodies been around to see if she’s spoken to him recently.

Malia wonders if they did that at all. Or if they just... let her go.

“Bye dad.” She says, at the end of the conversation, and hangs up. 

Malia opens skype, hesitates her cursor over a few names. Malia doesn’t know if Stiles took his laptop to wherever he ended up, so Malia doesn’t call him.

That’s her excuse, anyway. She still has his phone number.

Malia calls up - Liam, because he isn’t Scott and he isn’t Lydia and the call rings out for a few then:

“Malia?” Liam asks, surprised. Malia still isn’t happy with him for bringing back Theo, but she doesn’t really have any other less painful options, due to Kira no longer being around. 

“Yeah.” She says. “Been a while.”

“No kidding,” Liam frowns at her. “Scott’s been worried. We all have.”

Malia keeps her face carefully blank, and shrugs. “I arrived safe,” She says, dry, and adds, “I thought that was - was all that was needed.”

Liam - keeps frowning, but it softens. Malia doesn’t really know what to say - it’s only been a few months, but it feels like so much longer. 

(Malia travels France as a coyote, now that she can. Perhaps it’s due to that? After all, once Malia had turned back to human that first time, days felt like forever compared to what she was used to. Maybe it’s a similar thing.)

Liam looks her over. “Just... call more often, okay?”

Malia nods, swallows. She cancells the call.

---

Two days later, Malia calls Scott. 

“Hi.” She says. Malia’s using her phone because she doesn’t think she could stand to see his face right now. “Were you ever planning on revising your ‘had a connection like you guys’ to Lydia or what?”

She’s drunk. It’s three am, here in France. Malia has no idea what time it is back in America. 

There’s a pause. “... You’re drunk, Malia.” Scott says, oh-so-soft, and Malia glowers at the ceiling. 

Malia doesn’t respond to that. Silence, for a moment. Then - 

“... I was wrong.” Scott says. Contrite. “The memories hadn’t come back yet fully - I... I was wrong.”

Malia feels - vindicated. But it hurts. She cancels the call.

---

Four days later, Malia calls Lydia.

“Fuck you,” She says. “And I’m sorry for bailing.” 

Malia had heard about the fear guy, the hunters. Malia is sorry, but it’s over now, and there’s nothing she can do about what has happened in the past.

She would if she could. But she can’t.

“I’m sorry we didn’t tell you,” Lydia apologizes, genuinely.

Malia’s lips twist. That wasn’t what she’d swore for, but she’ll let Lydia think it was. Lydia was sorry, after all. And Malia has gotten better at forgiveness because Malia wants to be nothing like her biological father.

It’s been months. Malia should be over this by now. It’s not even a betrayal - Malia wasn’t dating him. He was just -

It’s nothing. It can be nothing but nothing, so Malia pushes aside those thoughts.

There’s a pause, and then:

“... I thought you should know,” Lydia says, “that-”

Malia hangs up.

----

“You should really pick that up.” 

Isaac is at the apartment, for once, and it just has to be when Malia gets another call. It’s been a few weeks since she called Lydia, and Malia doesn’t want to hear any of what she has to say. It’s petty, Malia knows - but Malia has already said her part. 

Fuck you. And I’m sorry.

Malia groans and closes her laptop, resigned. “You’re right,” She says, sighing. 

“Always am,” He says, then leaves, and she grumbles before grabbing the phone and hitting accept.

“What?” She demands.

“I was never dating Stiles and I’m sorry if we made it seem that way,” Lydia rushes out, “And when I kissed him, he didn’t kiss me back.”

Malia - paused before hitting the end call button. Lydia takes this as permission to continue. 

“Remember when I sensed he was in danger and ran off?” Lydia asks but doesn’t give Malia time to respond or end the call. “I saved him from being shot by one of the Riders, and then from being choked to death by his fake mom - along with Noah; he shot her, I screamed -  but, before we got accosted by her, after I’d saved Stiles, I kissed him. It - it was kind of awkward. I squished his nose, and he just sort of stood there. So - I figured that I’d read things wrong; turns out I did. Stiles told me he loved me, Malia - I took that to mean he was in love with me. There’s - there’s a difference.”

Malia swallows, and Lydia seems to take a second before continuing.

“He’d have said the same to Scott or his Dad or - whoever he cared about to that extent that was in the car with him.” Lydia says, and Malia takes this in. “I don’t know what he would have said to you, but - I thought you should know.”

“What took you so long to tell me?” Malia asks and regrets it. The hunters, of course. The fear guy.

“Things went to hell really fast.” Lydia sighs. “I just.. forgot.”

Malia nods. 

“... I’m sorry.” Lydia says. Malia ends the call, but texts her - 

Thanks. 

Smart people make mistakes.

Malia - smiles, slightly, at the usage of that. It - hurts, though. 

I know you might not want to but - talk to Stiles. Please.

Malia doesn’t owe anyone anything. But she is owed an explanation. 

----

Another week passes, and Malia finally stops avoiding the last person she needs to contact. 

Malia hesitates - she can’t call him, can’t video chat; they’d both be a disaster.

Malia opens her laptop and deliberates over what to say.

It’s been a while, I guess. It’s been... long enough.

You up to talking?

- Mal

Malia hesitates.

- Malia

Malia sends the message, the email, and waits. 

----

Sorry that it took so long to reply. It’s been a little hectic, catching up with what I missed when I left college to help out Scott and the others - the hunters and then Scott getting his eyes clawed out and having to talk him into healing, it was a mess - so I didn’t see this for ages.

Kinda feels like a theme, huh? Nevermind, you won’t get that.

Anyway... yeah. It’s been - long enough. 

I’d be good with talking, if you want, still.

- Are we using full names now? Because I can’t spell mine. Anyway; Stiles.

----

Malia is distracted for another month with helping out Isaac and Argent purge the Argent Hunters of any actual psychos, so she doesn’t see the email she got in response until the snow starts falling. 

Malia grimaces, wraps her coat tighter. She’ll be back at the apartment in a few seconds, and so she doesn’t need to worry so much about the cold.

Malia gets into the apartment at a quater to one on friday morning. It’s been weeks since she was last here, but her computer had been dead and she’d only had enough time to put it on charge before needing to leave again. 

Now, she gets inside, drops her coat, kicks off her shoes and grabs her laptop. Malia drops onto the couch and logs on - she’ll proabaly just watch some youtube for a bit before nodding off -

Malia pauses - stops in her tracks. She’s got an email. 

Malia’s suddenly hit with actual fear, a fair bit of worry. Fear that it isn’t him, worry that it is.

Malia clicks on the email, and reads it.

---

Stiles hasn’t had the best few months, all things considered. He’s out for the winter, though, so he’s on his way back down to Beacon - Stiles met up with Scott on the way, and they’ve stopped at a motel.

“I hate these,” Stiles grumbles, strides on into their room and drops his bag onto the right-most bed. “This one’s mine,” He says, and Scott nods, sighs. 

“Me too,” He mutters, drops his bag onto the other bed, gets out some travel soap and whatever and goes into the bathroom.

Stiles gets out his laptop. He’s gained the habit of checking his emails every week at least once, and that’s due.

Stiles pauses, sees the email. It’s from yesterday. Stiles reads it, closes his eyes, and gets out his phone.

---

Yeah. I’d like that.

- For now. Malia.

---

“Nobody stopped me,” Malia admits. There’s no greater way to get her to leave than to have nobody say she shouldn’t. 

“...I - yeah.” Stiles lets out. “Yeah. Nobody stopped you in time.”

It’s a few days later. They’re both a little drunk, which probably isn’t the best idea but - 

Well. Neither of them really want to have this conversation.

“Nobody stopped you,” Stiles repeats. His words ring hollow, and Malia frowns. 

“Well yeah,” Malia said. “Nobody came to see me off, either.”

“I tried,” Stiles says, suddenly, and Malia nearly drops the phone. “I - “

Stiles stops. Malia sits up, slowly, reaches for her laptop. 

“I wanna talk on skype.” She says, abrupt. “... Face to face.”

Malia can almost see his nod - jerky and uncertain. She hears him rub his hand down his face before saying, “Yeah, okay.” And cutting the call. 

Malia opens up Skype and hesitates. Stiles calls first - she waits for a beat before answering.

... he still looks like Stiles. It’s easy to see in his face; his features but then, Stiles has always had a recognisable face. It’s the little differences -  longer hair, no longer gelled.He’s no longer clean-shaven, either. Malia thinks he’s still in his uniform because he’s in a slightly rumpled white shirt, but he must have gotten uncomfortable because he’s loosened the tie and unbuttoned the top button. 

He looks like an adult. Malia’s suddenly terrifed of the fact that she’s no longer a teenager. 

“I havent had a chance to shave,” Stiles says. “You look - good.”

Malia’s in an old T-Shirt and some shorts. She’s not even sure if the T-shirt is hers, because it’s a little too big - big enough to fall off her should and need a camisole underneath. Due to the weather, she’s wearing leggings and a hoodie - Malia belatedly realises it was the one she’d never given back to him because Stiles -

“You too.” Malia manages. “You look good.”

There’s an awkward pause. Malia thinks this is worse than whatever he’d said before. Malia brings up that again, because she’d rather that than this silence. 

“Yeah.” Stiles scratches the back of his neck, awkward and contrite. “I came to - I don’t know. Convince you to stay, see you off.”

He pauses. 

“Be there for you, I guess. Maybe - “

Stiles hesitated. Malia simply stared, and he looked away.

“Maybe see if you remembered. I - I didn’t want to be selfish but I didn’t want you to leave hating me.”

Malia continues staring, and Stiles seems to flounder for something to say.

“Did you love me?” Malia asks. “Like you loved Lydia?”

There’s a difference between loving someone, and being in love with them.

”Not the same way I loved Lydia.” He said. “Not the same way I love Scott or my Dad.”

Malia nods. It’s... progress. She smiles slightly at the thought, and Stiles seems to take that as her smiling at him, and she’’l let him, because, in a way, that kind of was Malia smiling at him. 

Her memories of him. That she now has. 

Malia paused.

“... you wanted to see if I rememberd what the others didn’t, didn’t you?”

Stiles stops. 

“So you did?” Stiles says. “You remembered that we-”

“Were together.” Malia finishes. “Yeah, I remember.”

“We broke up.” Stiles says. “I think.”

“Yeah, nobody was really sure about that.” Malia says. “Even us.”

Stiles glances to the side, before looking back to Malia. “I’m sorry.”

“Smart people make mistakes.” Malia says.

“Not just because they think it’s right,” Stiles says. “Sometimes they’re just mistakes.”

Malia nods. Maybe, she thinks, they’ll get through this. 

“I think - “ Stiles pauses. “Theo would really hate it if you came back, and also I don’t want to have to get him a good present, so, how about you visit? For a week or so, around christmas?”

Malia laughs, slightly. “Yeah,” She says. “Yeah, okay.”

Stiles nods. “I’ll meet you there.” He says.

“You better.” Malia nods. She cuts the call, leans back -

Smiles. It’ll be good to go home for the holiday season. And maybe - just maybe - they can fix things. Malia is... hopeful.

It’s a nice feeling.

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

ok! I hope this was good?? Thanks for the prompt, anon! :D

#stalia. fanfiction #malia tate #stiles stilinski #scott mccall #lydia martin #liam dunbar #au #season six au #stalia au #Asked By Anon

[wits-writing]

IT: Chapter One movie review

Picture a middle school classroom back around 2006; the class has been asked to write short essays about things that scared them in the past and present them to everyone. Later, when the time came to present these papers, was when I first learned about the 1990 mini-series based on Stephen King’s novel IT. The descriptions of why my classmates where frightened by this made-for-TV movie were all my younger self needed to know that I didn’t want to find out any more. To this day, I’ve only ever seen small clips of Tim Curry’s performance from that mini-series and never felt any need to read the book. However, over time I began to give more of a chance to horror films and when I saw some of the positive reception the new version has been getting, I decided to give it a shot.

Bearing the on-screen title IT: Chapter One, directed by Andy Muschietti, is an intense ride of horror takes the familiar tale of a group of social outcasts in Derry, Maine during the summer of 1989 who catch onto the fact that a string of child disappearances in the town are connected to a malevolent force woven into the fabric of the town itself, eventually deciding that they need to be the ones to do something about it.

[Full review under the cut]

The Losers Club form the film’s heart that keeps the story going through all the scares and apathy of life around them. The seven of them; Bill (Jaeden Liehberher), Ben (Jeremy Ray Taylor), Bev (Sophia Lillis), Stan (Wyatt Oleff), Richie (Finn Wolfhard), Mike (Chosen Jacobs), and Eddie (Jack Dylan Grazer), all have different baggage from their personal lives and giving each other the strength to deal with that stuff helps them stand up and fight back.

Bill’s little brother Georgie (Jackson Robert Scott), was among the first in the town to disappear and has been unable to process it for months afterward. Despite a lack of social graces due to his stutter, Bill finds himself the de facto leader of the Losers as the one most prepared to go up against the force stalking them. Ben, due to his weight and being the new kid in Derry, finds himself an easy target for bullying, so he tries to keep his head down until he starts making friends with the rest the group. Bev, the lone girl in the group, is subjected to many pressures in her life, from her peers spreading hurtful rumors about her to her possessively abusive father, finally gets a chance to relax by hanging out with the boys over the summer. Stan lives his life under the pressure of his Rabbi father to set forth a good image for their family and he’s hesitant in following the journey. Richie is the loudmouth of the group and the most likely to argue with Bill over whether they should even continue towards this mad goal. Mike is a home-schooled kid living on the outskirts of Derry with his grandfather and as one of the few black people in Derry, gets harassed by the town bullies telling him to leave “their town.” Eddie has been raised to be an overly cautious hypochondriac by his overprotective mother, which means he often gets dragged into situations he wants no part of throughout the film.

All the young actors who make up the Losers are good performers who you can believe form these social bonds with each other as quickly as they do. Many of the film’s best parts are dedicated to them simply doing stuff together before any horror creeps in and it’s a great rapport to watch. The big moments where they stand together against the things threatening them, both natural and supernatural, are among the most cathartic in any film this year. Special mention goes to the rock war moment where the Losers help Mike fight back against the town bullies, led by the sociopathic Henry Bowers (Nicholas Hamilton), watching these outcasts not hesitate to help someone they barely know against one of the worst people in their lives is enough to bring a smile to my face. The ensemble works well together on screen and mostly gets a good balance out of all of them, though Mike and Stan unfortunately get the short straw when it comes to overall development. By the time the third act rolls around, it’s totally believable that these kids would face down literal monsters for each other.

The monster itself, Pennywise the Dancing Clown played primarily by Bill Skarsgård, enjoys the everything leading up to the kill as much as the kill itself. It finds ways to get personal with its victims, exploiting their anxieties to get the reaction it wants out of them. Skarsgård is at his best in this role when he’s given the chance to menace the Losers by making minor appearance while something else is going on. The movie makes a connection between Pennywise and the bullies that pick on the Losers, down to certain taunts and injuries dealt by the clown mirroring stuff the bullies did earlier. The fact that Pennywise is a supernaturally more sadistic type of bully than what the Losers already face every day is an interesting kind of terror to behold considering how the normal bullies are already uniquely sadistic.

The effects for Pennywise are accomplished through a mixture of CGI, makeup, and practical effects and they all blend together in an effective manner to portray its supernatural ability to bend reality around people while building towards the kill. The major monster moments in the film rely the most on this aspect of filmmaking to be effective and a few of them got me to jump in my seat, especially the moments where Pennywise shifts between forms. Monster movies need a level of terrifying spectacle for everything else to build from and IT: Chapter One is fully capable of delivering on that front.

Aside from the monstrous circus performer, Derry, Maine is dripping with more mundane flavors of horror that helps fuel Pennywise’s ability to operate in the town the way he does. Its influence is everywhere, but most apparent in how apathetic many of the townspeople are to what goes on around them. One more missing child poster can get put up while another is taken down and forgotten. We even get the chance to see this attitude start to take hold in our protagonists when some of them consider giving up the fight against It.

Muschietti’s direction on IT: Chapter One is the key ingredient in bringing all the elements at play in the film together. The mood of Derry permeates the film as Muschietti builds tension without tedium as things moves along from one major moment to another. There are a few things in the way the story is told that don’t quite work, like that aside from Bev and Eddie we don’t get too much of a sense of any of the Losers’ home lives, but in exchange we get one of the best examples of pacing in a film this year. I get the feeling most horror movie fans have already made their minds up about this one, but if you’re like myself and don’t typically go in for the genre, I say IT is worth checking out on the big screen.

#IT 2017 #IT Chapter One #Wit's Writing #Movie Review #Andy Muschietti #Stephen King #Bill Skarsgard #horror movies #horror

[weownthenitenyc]

The 19th annual Satchmo SummerFest returns August 2-4, 2019 at the New Orleans Jazz Museum at the Mint. Produced by French Quarter Festivals, Inc. (FQFI), Satchmo SummerFest is an unparalleled celebration of the life, legacy, and music of New Orleans’ native son, Louis Armstrong.

Recently named one of the most “interesting things to experience in Louisiana” by Oprah Magazine, the event brings performances from New Orleans’ most talented musicians, with a focus on traditional and contemporary jazz and brass bands.

2 Hours of Louis Armstrong

The nominal daily admission of $6 (children 12 and under are free) helps support local musicians and pay for the event. Admission also provides access to the Jazz Museum’s collection and exhibitions plus indoor activities like Pops’ Playhouse for Kids powered by Entergy New Orleans and the Hilton Satchmo Legacy Stage featuring presentations by renowned Armstrong scholars.

Ayo Scott Selected as 2019 Poster Artist

New Orleans artist Ayo Scott was selected as the 2019 French Quarter Festivals, Inc. artist, creating the artwork for both the French Quarter Festival and Satchmo SummerFest posters. Scott graduated from Xavier University in 2003 and attended graduate school at The Institute of Design in Chicago. Immediately after Hurricane Katrina, he returned home to help the city rebuild. During that time, he started NOYO Designs Inc. and began to evolve from commercial graphic design work to making his own art.

“When looking at the impact of jazz on music and music on the world, Louis Armstrong may be the single most influential person to be born in New Orleans,” Scott said. “I’m humbled to be able to create a tribute to such a man. I’m excited to share ‘Reflections of King Louie’, the 2019 Satchmo SummerFest Poster.”

Culinary Lineup Includes Four Debuts

In addition to music, the 2019 Satchmo SummerFest presented by Chevron will feature cuisine from some of New Orleans’ favorite restaurants. Four restaurants make debuts this year: beloved local grocer Dorignac’s Food Center will serve Armstrong’s famously favorite dish, Red Beans and Rice; Gulf Tacos will offer up pork belly, shrimp, and fish tacos, along with street corn; attendees can look forward to Jambalaya and refreshing fruit skewers from Rusty Pelican; and Congreso Cubano debuts with Ropa Vieja and Maduros Fritos. Returning favorites include Big Cheezy, Café Dauphine, Company Burger, Plum Street Snoballs, Quintin’s Ice Cream, and Lasyone’s Meat Pie Restaurant. Click here to see the complete menus.

Beer and wine lovers will not want to miss the return of the Abita Beer Garden, serving favorites and seasonal brews, and the Sonoma-Cutrer Rosé Café, a shaded place to relax and take in the festival environment. For those seeking refreshing non-alcoholic options, Bubly will offer lime and grapefruit sparking beverages, and Luzianne Iced Tea and French Market Cold Brew will be available.

Ella Fitzgerald & Louis Armstrong – Summertime

A Dozen Artists Make Festival Debuts

More than 30 Acts to Perform, Along with Satchmo Scholars

The 2019 festival lineup includes more than 30 acts, ranging from traditional jazz to swing, brass and marching bands, funk, R&B, jazz fusion, and more performing on two tented stages over three days. A dozen musicians will make their Satchmo SummerFest debut, including Cyril Neville with Omari Neville & the Fuel on the Fidelity Bank Stage. Other debuts include:

· Big 6 Brass Band

· Big Easy Brawlers

· Catie Rodgers and the Gentilly Stompers

· Cyril Neville

· DinosAurchestra

· Lafayette Charter Academy Marching Band

· Michael Ward

· New Orleans Classic Big Band with Ricky Riccardi

· Smitty Dee’s Brass Band featuring Dimitri Smith

· The Garden of Joy

· Tonya Boyd-Cannon

· Troy Sawyer and the Elementz

Returning Satchmo SummerFest favorites include Ellis Marsalis, Jr., Charmaine Neville, Kermit Ruffins & the Barbecue Swingers, Preservation Brass, Robin Barnes & The Fiyabirds, Trumpet Mafia, Jeremy Davenport, and the Treme Brass Band. View the full musical lineup here: https://satchmosummerfest.org/music/.

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Hilton Satchmo Legacy Stage: Three Days of Fascinating Speakers and Discussions

On the Hilton Satchmo Legacy Stage, scholars and historians will present on a wide range of topics surrounding all things Louis Armstrong. Highlights include: Veronique Dorsey, Jazz Henry, and Marla Dixon interviewed by Gwen Thompkins on the experience of the female trumpeter in New Orleans; Melissa A. Weber: On Louis Armstrong and Black American Music: A Conversation with Nicholas Payton; Matt Sakakeeny: The Tradition of Innovation; Sally Young and Deanna Assunto: Louis and The Assunto Dukes of Dixieland; and festival favorite Ricky Riccardi, Director of Research Collections for the Louis Armstrong House Museum and Archives and the author of “What a Wonderful World”, screening rare video clips featuring Satchmo. Fans can dive deep into the life and legacy of Armstrong and learn how his craft continues to reverberate today. View the full Hilton Satchmo Legacy Stage schedule here: https://satchmosummerfest.org/music/.

Festival Features Family Fun, Cultural Activities

In addition to music and food, festival goers can enjoy a full slate of family-friendly activities throughout the event. The Pops’ Playhouse for Kids powered by Entergy will feature fun activities August 3 and 4 from 11:30 a.m. — 4:30 p.m. including: Zulu Coconut Decorating Station, Hosted by Junior Zulus; Second Line Umbrella Decoration & Celebration Station, Hosted by FQFI; Red Bean Satchmo Shakers, Hosted by FQFI; Satchmo Sewing, Hosted by Great Spirit Warriors Indian Tribe; Satchmo Sachets, Hosted by Hermann-Grima + Gallier Historic Houses; Congo Drum Making, Hosted by Kamau Wesley Phillips; Electric Bicycle, Hosted by Entergy; and Face Painting, Hosted by Ocean Heroes.

Louis Armstrong – A Kiss to Build a Dream On

Tickets for Kickoff Fundraiser Party On Sale Now

Fans can help raise funds for the three-day festival by purchasing tickets to the opening night kickoff party August 1. The party will feature music from preeminent jazz musician and New Orleans native Ellis Marsalis, Jr., with special guest Ashlin Parker. Marsalis will perform during the dinner and cocktail reception from 7 p.m. to 9:30 p.m. at the Omni Royal Orleans, 621 St. Louis St., New Orleans. Purchase tickets for the fundraiser online at satchmosummerfest.org.

Jazz Mass, Satchmo Salute, Trumpet Tribute, and other Special Events

In addition to a weekend full of great music, food, multimedia presentations, and children’s activities, Satchmo SummerFest features an array of special events including the the Satchmo Sound-off near the GE Stage on the Esplanade neutral ground, annual Jazz Mass sponsored by Rhodes Funeral Home at historic St. Augustine Church in Treme, a traditional second line parade, and the ‘Trumpet Tribute’ sponsored by Orpheum Theater which closes the festival Sunday night with a Satchmo birthday party.

Ella Fitzgerald & Louis Armstrong – Dream A Little Dream of Me

Happy Birthday, Satchmo!

Satchmo SummerFest is scheduled annually to coincide with Louis Armstrong’s birthday on August 4th; the first festival took place on what would have been his 100th birthday, the same year the New Orleans airport was renamed Louis Armstrong International Airport. The artist often stated in public interviews that he was born on July 4, 1900 (Independence Day), a date that has been noted in many biographies. Armstrong died in 1971 and his true birthdate, August 4, 1901, was not discovered until the mid-1980s. Louis Armstrong was raised in a poor section of New Orleans known as “Jane Alley.” Throughout his career, he entertained millions – from heads of state and royalty to the neighborhood kids on his stoop in Corona, New York. Despite his fame, he lived a simple life in a working-class neighborhood. The man known around the world as “Satchmo,” short for Satchelmouth, was widely recognized as a founding father of jazz – a unique American art form. In 1932, Melody Maker magazine editor Percy Brooks greeted Armstrong in London with “Hello, Satchmo!” and the nickname stuck. His influence as an artist and cultural icon is universal, unmatched, and very much alive today.

When You’re Smiling (The Whole World Smiles With You) – Louis Armstrong

NEXT WEEKEND: Satchmo SummerFest in New Orleans | #Satchmo #SummerFest is an unparalleled celebration of the life, legacy, and music of New Orleans' native son, Louis Armstrong. #NoLa #NewOrleans #Jazz The 19th annual Satchmo SummerFest returns August 2-4, 2019 at the New Orleans Jazz Museum at the Mint.

#Louis Armstrong #New Orleans #Satchmo #Satchmo SummerFest

[robpoolephotos]

RP: Hi Jason, thanks for agreeing to talk to us to start please tell us a bit about yourself.

Hi Robert! Thank you for choosing to interview me! It is an honor to be among those that came before me, especially Jacob Murphy, Nick Mayo, and Wes Boker who over the last year have looked to for inspiration with my own Photographic Art.

Now about me, my name is Jason Brewer, and I am Full-Time IT Professional and Father of two (very soon to be three!) and a Photographer from Wisconsin where I focus on capturing Street, Fine Art, and Documentary Photography. I shoot mostly 35mm and 120mm Film but also shoot digitally on the rare occasions I am asked to capture for Volunteer events (which is something I recently stopped doing).

RP: what inspired you to become a photographer?

I have always been a bit of a shutterbug as a kid. I was regularly taking pictures with my parent’s polaroids, Kodak 110 and Disc Cameras. I didn’t have any close family members that were photographers so because of that; I had joined my High School photo club my senior year to learn more about Photography to take better pictures. However, it didn’t work out well as I quit after a week or two as I was more interested in skateboarding instead and I didn’t feel the drive to pursue it further.

I did keep taking pictures, and I was always interested in capture the mundane and banal things more than anything else especially after seeing the movie “One Hour Photo” with Robin Williams.

It wasn’t until about 20 years later at the end of 2012 and beginning of 2013 that I got serious and took the “Complete Course in Professional Photography” at the New Your Institute of Photography (NYIP) to improve my Photographic skills, and it boosted a love of the Art.

RP: You seem to have a good selection of prints and zines on your site, how important is printing your work to you?

I think it is vital to print your work. I believe we have gotten too far away from the tangible, tactile feel of holding something you created in your hands and being proud of it yourself first before you present it to the world. It feels like we all get caught up looking for instant feedback from others on social media like we are fishing for compliments and approval from others before we feel proud of it ourselves.

Additionally, printing has so many benefits. Two that stand out for me are: 1) Holding the print allows one to focus in on the good, bad, and the ugly of the image to better improve your skills and composition. 2) It helps you sort through a series of pictures by laying them out on the floor or table then physically arranging them together forming a sequence for a Print Project or Zine.

RP: Can you share with us what you’re working on at the moment?

To be honest, too many projects! As a full-time Father and IT Professional, I often have to sacrifice my photography time for work or time with my family. However, I do try to shoot during free time when on work trips or when my family is with me and make it an outing for all of us by combining Family Adventure time with my Photography Project time.

To answer your question though. The current ongoing long-term projects are focused on capturing the small Midwestern Life around where I have lived in a project called “Home Towns.”

I also drive around on weekends to surrounding small farming/pre-WWII industrial towns by documenting their forgotten history left behind by people migrating away from them to larger towns/cities for work in my “Small Town WI” project.

I new project called “Fair View” is one where during the late summers, I try to visit county fairs in the region and capture the people and activities on a Holga 120N.

In all my travels I also try to document smaller things we as humans have left behind but not torn down in a project called “Where We Were.”

Another project I have recently started though challenging my self to do more portrait work of friends and strangers is a project called “People are Strangers.”

Because these projects will go on for a long time and my limited time to shoot is why I created my “Oddments” Zine. This way I can share my projects as I work on them instead of waiting years to create a single complete body of work for each project.

RP: What/who inspires your photography?

Most of my inspiration comes from just wanting to capture what I find interesting around me. I do not have an Art background, and it wasn’t until about two or three years ago that I even heard of photographers like William Eggleston, William Christenberry, Lewis Baltz, Steven Shore, Walker Evens, and Henry Wessel. These photographers (especially Eggleston and Baltz) validated and confirmed that it was OK to shoot the subjects that I typically preferred to shoot growing up!

As far as more contemporary Photographers/Artist that inspire me, there is an even longer list. There are so many great people I have seen in the last couple of years out there that are producing great work both in film and digitally.

If I had to give a top 10 list of people I actively follow, it would be these people:

For color work: Jason Lee (@jasonlee) and Caleb Jenkins (@calebjenkins)

For Black and White: Nick Mayo (@nickexposed), Jacob Murphy (@jacobmurphyphoto), and Simeon Smith (@_simeonsmith)

For proving that I can be a Dadtographer: Matt Day (@mattdayphoto), Wes Bowker (@wesbowker), and Charlie Boucher (@charliewboucher)

For simple amazing cinematic aesthetic: Ken Kornacki (@kenkophoto)

Lastly for inspiring me to no having to choose between shooting only Black and White or Color Films: Sam Cashmore (@samcashmorephoto)

RP: What does photography mean to you?

As a Disabled Veteran, photography has been very therapeutic by allowing me to focus on something in a meditative way that engages my mind to reduce day to day stress when out on photo walks alone or with others.

I am glad I rediscovered my love for the Art and was able to learn not just from attending photography school but also from working with people that have mentored me and helped refine my Art and Vision more. The relationships I have built add to the fulfillment I get from photography and hope they grow along with my skills as a photographer.

RP: What cameras/films do you shoot with and why?

Digitally I shoot Fuji. I have an XT-1 and a few lenses and an X100T with the two adaptor lenses. I love the X100T as it is an unobtrusive street camera for digital shooters. My poor XT-1 has only been used once in the last year and a half; I should sell it in all honesty!

For 35mm film, I currently rotate between a Canon AE-1 and Elan 7e as main cameras. I recently picked up a $3 Yashica Microtec Zoom 70 P&S for a quick walk around camera when at work.

I also have a Holga 120N, FPP Debonaire, and Lubitel 166B for shooting 120mm film. I do love the unpredictability of those cameras when shooting as they produce exciting results!

For future wishlist items, I do hope that someday I can afford to get a better Medium format camera like a Mamiya 7 or 645 for more consistently in everyday work. I also would like to pick up an Olympus XA3 or Rollei 35SE for good pocket shooter to replace the Cheap Yashica.

RP: what’s your main reason for shooting film?

I use to say that fill was better because it slows you down and makes you think about your shots more due to the limited number of frames per roll or for some other reason along those lines that I feel is utter B.S. and a shallow excuse I used to be different than most everyday digital shooters.

In the last couple years I have come to realize, that for me, shooting film has become more about the process of using a type of physical media to capture my subjects versus using a digital sensor. The organic nature of the chemical reaction with the light inside a camera that physically changes the film to create the image has brought about a more profound connection with my Art. The addition of being able to hold the negative before moving on to work on the final image or print adds to the emotional satisfaction of physically holding something you created.

Lastly, and many others have said this too, but the community of film shooters is more welcoming and supportive than most others online!

RP: Any anecdotes you can share from your time as a photographer?

I don’t have any anecdotes or stories that I can tell. I have had it pretty easy for taking pictures of strangers. I have no problem just going up and asking, or if I can’t ask first, I say thank you or smile at them and wave in a friendly manner afterward. I try to be as non-confrontational as possible and talk to people I shoot when I can.

A tip I learned from Scott Kelby to make it easier when people seem like they are about to confront you is to keep a 10 to 15 Page Photo book on you that you created. Pick 10-15 images, upload them to Blurb and order a cheap book with a title and your name on it. When someone wants to know why you took a picture, you show them the book and tell them about the photo projects you are working on while letting them look through the book. Doing this often disarms the person and starts a conversation with them.

Additionally, take time get the person’s name and address or social media info and then send them a 5×7 print or tag them in your feed as a thank you for letting you take the picture! People will appreciate it.

I carry a proof copy of my first Zine in my bag just for this reason, and it has helped me get shots or keep shots more often than not when people have looked through it and talked with me about it.

RP: What are you looking for in a photo?

With most of the subjects I capture, I want to evoke an emotional response and curiosity in the viewer, but it doesn’t have to be the same emotion that drove me to capture the image. I like giving the viewer room for their interpretations and meanings to be assigned to the pieces I present. We come from such varied backgrounds and experiences, so by allowing them to attach their context, I as the artist get to collaborate with my viewers.

RP: Biggest regret relating to photography?

Getting caught up in G.A.S. (Gear Aquisition Syndrom) and buying too much digital equipment before I thoroughly knew what I wanted or genuinely liked to photograph. I wanted to try it all and be ready for anything, but in the end, it was just a waste of money that I will never get back.

RP: Any closing comments?

Just go out and shoot, make Art for yourself of the things that capture your attention and peek your curiosity.

If you are starting out in photography, fight getting G.A.S. Start with only one body and one or two lenses only. You will be amazed what you can create with a simple set-up!

Go out and meet people to ask your questions, stop using Google and YouTube (Sorry Matt & Nick!). Reach out to people via DM on Instagram or Twitter in your local area and go meet people at a Meetup!

Thank you again, Robert, for this opportunity to share my thoughts through this interview! I appreciate the work you put into these and have enjoyed reading about others that you interviewed!

Lastly, want to give a big Thank You to everyone that bought a Zine or Print since my shop went up last November! I still have a few Zines and Prints left for sale if anyone is interested at reduced prices.

Social Media Links:

Website: https://www.jasonbrewerphotography.com/

IG: https://www.instagram.com/jasonebrewer/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/jasonebrewer

FaceBook: https://www.facebook.com/jasonbrewerphoto/

In Conversation with Jason Brewer RP: Hi Jason, thanks for agreeing to talk to us to start please tell us a bit about yourself.