#I have some art stuff to post soon but right now I’m hyper focused on planet zoo

[frogitivity]

#bug talks #poll #I have some art stuff to post soon but right now I’m hyper focused on planet zoo

[demibillyloomis]

Hiiii, you’re like, one of my favorite writers on here! You kinda also inspired me to write my own stuff and allow myself to post it and be proud of it! even if I kinda suck

Anyway~

My favorite thing you’ve written so far is the sensory overload thingy and I was wondering if you’d ever write a part two, or a neurodivergent reader in general? Possibly having a stressed out moment, or how billy and stu would react to y/n during more noticeable stims. Whatever you wanna do :) I just really really love how you wrote them to be so caring, especially during something that can be really scary

So I wasn’t entirely sure what to write here but I this is what I ended up with, assuming this is earlier in the relationship and the first time they deal with Y/N having happy stims and very noticeable happy stims also just some cute Billy x reader centric stuff towards the beginnings

Poly!Ghostface with Reader having Happy Stims

Warnings: mentions of stimming (obviously), mentions of food and forgetting to eat due to hyper focusing (maybe that’s a more me thing but I think a lot of us do that) and bad writing (also one slight nsfw line in the authors note at the end)

“Hey babylove,” you heard as Billy walked through the door of your apartment, the nickname was new, something he had randomly started calling you after you had began the relationship. He walked behind you pressing a kiss to the back of your head before flopping down next to you on the couch.

“Hey Billy,” you hardly look up from the book your reading to greet him, to infused in the action to notice his slight pout, however you did curl into his chest after a moment enjoying the silence.

Eventually after a few hours of reading you zone back in enough to hear that Billy had (at some point) turned on a horror movie. Looking up from you book you peered around the room, “Is Stu here?” you asked not hearing any sign of him despite him having informed you this morning he’d be coming over.

“Nah he said he had something he needed to do I think he mentioned something about how it’s probably be kinda late before he got back,” he answered eyes trained to the screen where Glen’s death scene was playing out, you watch the smile creep over your lovers lips before he laughed at how the blood shot everywhere in the scene, you smiled slightly kissing his cheek before closing the book and setting it down finally.

“Do you want to order out for dinner? I do not feel like cooking, and I don’t think I’ve ate since breakfast,” without actually waiting for an answer you began to shift through the pile of take out menus St had allowed to cultivate on your coffee table (not that you had bothered putting them up either).

“Y/N you have to eat babe, I know you said you get kinda hyper focused or whatever but you can’t go all day without eating,” Billy began to lecture you, but instead of fighting you sighed continued to shift though the menus.

“Well I’m eating now. What do you want?” You hand him a menu from Stu and yours favourite place, and with a deep sigh Billy took the menu.

“I’m getting a number 7, you want your usual right?” He asked after a moment and you nod. “Okay can you hand me the phone, I’ll call it in for us,” and soon the two of you where watching the film again while waiting for the food.

“Want to watch Freddy’s Revenge while we eat?” You asked once the end credits began to roll.

“I love you,” Billy said in lieu of an actual answer but you got up to put it on anyway. As soon as it started however food was there, you the two of you left Stu’s meal on the coffee table as you waited for him, munching happily as your gaze was fixed on the film.

By the time the credits are rolling you’re half asleep on Billy’s chest, falling farther and farther as his fingers trace patterns lazily across your arm, and then finally the door is opening to reveal a smiling Stu.

He runs into the room with a giant grin taking over his face “Y/N you won’t believe it!” He says practically bouncing as Billy and you share a tired look.

“What won’t I believe baby?” You ask as he pulls out a copy of your favourite book, and a stack of papers, handing them to you.

Upon turning over the papers you see art work of the characters from the book, signed at the bottom by the author, you hands begin to shake widely at the intricate details, and you look at the book, a little worn with love and open it to see the authors signature big and bold on the first page. You begin to rock back and forth a smiling taking over your face as you stim trying to get the excitement out. Billy sits up alert behind you and Stu drops to his knees in front of you both looking concerned. Neither had seen you so like stim quite like this before, both thinking it was something that only happened when you where sad or angry or over stimulated.

“I’m so sorry I thought you’d like it, Y/N,” Stu said

“Y/N baby what wrong,” Billy ask placing a gentle hand on your back to calm you.

As calmly as you could with the overwhelming excitement rushing through your body aside to hug Stu hard still moving the rocking and began chanting a chorus of thank yous. You kiss his cheek before bouncing “I love it, I love it, I love you,” you say giving him another kiss, “thank you so much,” and Stu and Billy both breath out a sigh of relief, as they realise you’re happy.

You laugh loudly still moving as you try to get the energy out, “You’re the best,” you yell hugging him again.

———————————————

In other words this really sucked, and let’s assume you gave him something that involves sucking once you finally calmed down, I wanted to write something involving happy stims, because a lot of time people don’t mention those in fanfics but turns out I had a really hard time explaining it in action without stating what stims Y/N is doing because I mean I don’t know I didn’t want to write how I stim and not have it be relatable or whatever. I’m sorry it’s not the best love, but I hope you still like it... also I don’t know why I wrote the whole thing with you and Billy to be honest but I figured that’s a mostly relatable thing for me and other neurodivergent ppl and that it was kinda cute I’m sorry

#poly!ghostface #poly ghostface #stu macher x reader x billy loomis #billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #x reader #slasher #neurodivergent #scream 1996 #scream fanfiction

[clumsydarknut]

Scripted Wishes

Chapter 4: Anima Extalia

Beginning | Previous | Next | Most Recent (That’s this! Hi!)

Lucy sighed, stretching and flopping back onto her bed. The dress rehearsal – if you could call it that – had only gone for maybe an hour and consisted mostly of the crew running a few of the more complicated dance scenes and rubbing out a couple bumps in the cues, none of which Loke seemed interested in helping her learn. The Loke she’d met that morning was nowhere to be found, instead replaced with a nervous, twitchy, hyper-focused stagehand who was determined to pretend she didn’t exist. He hadn’t said a word to her, even when she asked him things.

“Which one’s the left spot again?”

Point.

“So you play guitar?”

Nod.

“When do you think Natsu will be back?”

Shrug.

That hour had seemed like an eternity, dragged out second by second with anxious glances and awkward coughs. It wasn’t a total loss, though. She’d been able to see first-hand why Jellal got the praise that he did. Most of the cast of Anima Extalia were adult actors who seemed very experienced, and Jellal matched their skill note for note and step for step. They had done a battle scene featuring some crazy aerobatics – the choreographer had called it capoeira – where Jellal had pulled some off some incredible flips and twists. She was kind of bummed the show was sold out, and based on the way Loke behaved it wasn’t likely she could watch from the sound booth.

Guess I’ll just have to try out for something, she thought. Probably the next musical.

With nothing else to do, Lucy wiggled her phone out of her tight pockets and unlocked it with a few quick taps. She was used to most of the notifications – a few spam and school emails, a new video from a YouTuber she liked, and suggested pins for her astronomy board weren’t out of the ordinary. To her surprise and delight, however, all of those lined up beneath six new texts from Levy.

I saw Natsu drag you to the sound booth. Nothing kinky going on is there? ;)

omg i can’t believe i said that plz don’t show him

Lucy?

Oh right probs busy learning sound booth stuff k nevermind

We hope you’re here to stay, Lucy! Welcome to Fairy Tail!

The last text brought tears to her eyes. Beneath the welcome message was an awkwardly thrown together group selfie, with Levy holding the camera and doing her best mock-Instagram face. Jet and Droy crouched next to her, grinning, while Cana leaned on them, pointing a finger gun and winking. Erza stood over Levy with her soft smile, and Gray stood just next to her, arms crossed over his chest and giving the camera a smirk. In the corner, she could make out the boxy shape of the sound booth, a blur of pink and a blur of blonde just visible in the fuzzy background.

Lucy grinned and rubbed a tear from her cheek. She let her thumbs dance over her keyboard while she tried to think of a good response. They really like me, she sighed. I’m in Fairy Tail, and they like me!

Her phone gave a buzz and she squeaked as her hands jerked in surprise, making her lose her grip on the slender piece of technology; she juggled it awkwardly for a second before it landed flat on the pillow next to her. She scrambled onto her stomach and flipped the vibrating phone over, grinning at seeing Natsu’s profile picture humming on the screen. She slid her thumb across the icon and put it to her ear.

“Hello?”

“Heya Luce!”

Lucy winced at the sudden noise, moving it a little further from her head. “Hey! What’s up?”

“Are you coming to the show?” he sang. She could almost see his toothy grin in the tone of his voice.

“It’s sold out, isn’t it?”

“Well yeah,” Natsu replied, “but you’re in the company now! You can watch from the sound booth with me!”

Lucy bit her lip. “Is that okay? I wouldn’t want to get in your way – it’s already pretty cramped with just two people up there.”

“You won’t get in the way,” Natsu chuckled, “Right Loke?”

She felt her breath hitch. Though she heard a faint “uh, sure” wobble on the other end, she knew the red-head was most certainly not okay with that. She wasn’t particularly fond of the boy, and certainly not of his playboy kind, but… he seemed genuinely afraid of her, and for no reason that Lucy could deduce. She didn’t want to make things worse if she could avoid it.

“No, it’s okay, Natsu,” she replied, “I should probably rest up – I’m a little woozy from all the action yesterday and today.”

“Aww, c’mon Luce! Is it cuz you’re afraid Loke will make a move on ya?” She heard Loke splutter something frantically. “Don’t worry, I won’t let him use a single pick-up line!”

“No, no,” Lucy laughed uncomfortably, “I just really need some rest.”

“Oh, okay.” Natsu seemed disappointed, but only for a moment before perking right back up. “I found a great role for you, by the way! I’ll tell you about it tomorrow, yeah?”

She smiled. “Sounds good!”

“Yosh! Ja na!”

“Bye!”

The screen turned black and she sighed. I’ll just have to miss this show, I guess. She rolled onto her back and picked up her phone again, humming as she decided what to do. She opened Instagram on a whim and flicked down to a random spot in her feed. It was another video posted by the school, bearing a very familiar face and a very familiar tag. She grinned.

I’d prefer to hang with him in person, but I guess this Salamander will do.

---

Gajeel really wasn’t one for theatre.

It was cheesy, weird, and straight up uninteresting. People prancing around on stage in frilly costumes, pretending to be things they’re not? And set to music? No, not really his thing at all.

Well, maybe that was a lie. He was in the Cosplay Club, after all.

But there was no way he’d ever admit the two things had anything in common. Cosplay was an art – a dedication to replicating a character so perfectly that it seemed they had stepped out of the world of fiction and straight into reality. Cosplaying a character was the ultimate testament to how incredible that character and their world truly was, and thus, being a cosplayer came with the heavy responsibility of making sure that character was done justice. It wasn’t this… thing, that played out on the stage in front of him.

He couldn’t really complain, though. Not since he was here on a date.

A second date, at that.

He leaned back further into his seat, scrunching down into his gray hoodie and tilting his head to look at the girl next to him. Sue was cute. She was at least a head shorter than him, with darker, tanned skin and forest green hair cut off at her shoulders. Now she wore a beige blouse and a short black skirt, but Gajeel much preferred her usual attire – a blue shirt with ripped sleeves and green cargo pants, along with an oddly adorable purple jester’s hat. He’d asked her out casually last week and they’d gone four-wheeling; when she asked him in return, this had been her suggestion.

He almost said no, but he actually kind of liked her.

He sighed, settling in for the show. The overture had finished, as well as the opening number – a solo by a guy in some weird ninja gear. Gajeel was pretty sure he’d seen him around school hanging with the other Fairy Tail dorks, which was a little bit of a surprise. Then again, all Fairy Tail had to work with was Fairy Tail, so maybe giving the title role to a teenager was the best they could do. Either way, the number was somewhat foreboding and left Gajeel with prickly discomfort itching at the back of his neck.

Sue gasped as the scene changed in a flash of smoke and a sheen of light. The eerie set the ninja dude had occupied was replaced with a multi-tiered stage painted as floating isles on a backdrop of a beautiful blue sky. Gajeel gave a smirk as Sue turned back, smiling, to see if he was watching. As soon as she looked back to the show he scrunched further into his seat. Maybe I can pick up some cosplay design ideas at the very least.

The show was pretty strange, in Gajeel’s opinion. Half the characters seemed to be humans from some post-apocalyptic magic-science hybrid country, and the other half were… cats? Cat people? Cat angels? Whatever they were, at least they weren’t furries. He had to admit the half-cat costumes were very well done, blending prosthetics perfectly into skin and avoiding the whole mostly-naked-with-body-paint deal that so often killed good animal cosplays. The rigging they used for some of the aerobatics attached to very well disguised harnesses with pretty impressive angel wings that seemed to be high quality animatronics. They’d somehow managed to get realistic tails as well, which moved and swished about like real ones instead of dangling limply or sticking out at awkward angles. Pretty cool, that. He made a mental note to scare the technique out of one of the stagehands later.

The main protagonist appeared to be a bluish cat called Shiawase, who, of course, was in love with a girl. Typical of musicals. The girl was a beautiful white cat called Charlotte who seemed to be a princess of sorts. From what Gajeel could tell, the two were just trying to elope while the humans warred with the cat people and it really wasn’t going well.

“Gajeel,” Sue whispered suddenly, pointing to Shiawase, “Isn’t that… Gray?”

Gajeel did the air equivalent of a spit take as he suddenly recognized the blue cat, sitting forward in his seat to study him with a squint.

“Sure is,” he chuckled. “Damn that’s a lot of makeup. Too bad he still looks like a twat.”

Sue gave him a pout. “C’mon, Gajeel, be nice. He helped you with the kanji on one of your katanas, didn’t he?”

“Tch.” Gray had been helpful that one time, being from Japan and all, but he was still a Fairy Tail dork.

As the show went on the story got more complicated. If Gajeel had cared, he would have found himself torn on which side of the war to get behind. The cat angels were some sort of tyrannical deities or the like, in which case he favored the humans, but the humans were merciless executioners who slaughtered their own kind as readily as they slaughtered the cats. As badass as that was, he couldn’t really get behind that either. Not that he was emotionally invested or anything. If he had to pick, he’d probably go with the humans – mainly because of the large, bulky black cat who had betrayed his kind to fight alongside them. Gajeel really didn’t care much, but that character was pretty neat.

The ninja guy from the beginning – Mist Can or something – was turning out to be kind of cool too. He was revealed to be the exiled prince of the human nation, swooping in to save the imprisoned cat protagonists right before intermission, and Sue bubbled over him through the entire break. Gajeel would have preferred to go get a snack, but… she was pretty adorable when she got all excited like that, so he didn’t mind too much. He’d lost track of most of the plot at this point, but he was actually sort of enjoying himself. Kind of. Maybe.

The entr’acte ended with a very mournful piccolo solo and the lights rose on the remains of a blackened forest. Charred branches scraped and clawed at the orange sky. Smoke effects drifted up in billows and the crackling of flames hummed in the silence. This was a totally different feel from when the show had begun. After another moment, the three main protagonists rushed onto the stage.

“W-wait,” Charlotte stammered, stumbling “I… I need to rest.”

“We cannot stop now,” the ninja man replied. “We have to get as far from the city as we can. It’s only a matter of time before my people use the Dragon Cannon.”

“There must be something we can do!” Shiawase cried. “We can’t just run away!”

“There is not,” he growled. He turned to continue the escape, cloak swishing behind him.

Shiawase rose to his full height, gesturing back the way they came. “You would just abandon your people? Your friends? You would turn your back as hundreds of innocents are murdered?!”

The man whirled around and ripped his veil from his face, storming up to the blue cat and leering over him. “I do not do so lightly, Exceed! May I remind you that it is your people who began this war?! That your kind have used us as slaves for centuries?!”

“That doesn’t change your cowardice! You’re running away, Mystogan! Running from your throne and your duty! It was not my people who made you this way!”

The two continued to argue as a harp plinked a note and the lighting around Charlotte changed tones. A tear ran down her face as she sang a pitiful, “Please, stop…”

“Stop?” Mystogan laughed as a bass tremolo hummed beneath him. In a darker tone he sang back.

“It is not I who slaughtered thousands.

Who killed children!

Who drove their slaves to madness!”

Shiawase picked up the melody, gesturing to the burning landscape.

“Do you think this is what we wanted?

Do you think this is the life we crave?

No, your Highness.

You’re wrong.

We may be at fault, but we tried to stop it!

It is you

who ran away.”

Mystogan stormed forward. “You speak of things you know nothing about,” he spat back.

Shiawase hissed. “And you run from people who need you!”

Mystogan’s voice took on a tone of fury.

“There’s naught I can do,

she’s doomed them all.

My people are dying, Exceed.

Our kingdoms have slaughtered each other!”

“We can end that,” Shiawase sang more insistently,

“We can end it all!

We can’t just save ourselves

we have to do something!”

Mystogan took a deep breath. “All you will do is die.”

Shiawase leapt at Mystogan, letting loose a vicious snarl. Gajeel raised an eyebrow in surprise. Damn, Gray, that was startlingly realistic.

“Please, stop…” Charlotte sang again.

Mystogan pushed Shiawase away and removed his staff from his back.

“We can’t fight like this…” she sobbed.

Shiawase took a fighting stance and the invisible rigging lifted him off the stage.

“I said STOP!”

The outburst from the white cat reverberated in the theatre. Her labored breath was the only sound heard in the room as she got to her feet. She stepped up to the unmasked ninja and looked him straight in the eye.

“I am sorry.” She intoned softly.

“I could have stopped this.

I could have tried harder.

Mother wouldn’t listen.

Couldn’t listen.

The blood of your people is on my hands.

We have both made grave mistakes

and cost innocents their lives.

Millions may yet die and it will be our faults.”

She paused and sighed before clenching her fists. When she began again, her voice was made of fire.

“But how dare you!

How dare you just give up?!”

Mystogan stumbled back a step, mouth dropping open slightly. Charlotte didn’t back down.

“This is your country, isn’t it?

Can’t you do anything without your throne?

Though it was all a lie

didn’t you try to live your best life,

protect your people where you could?!

Why are you giving up?!”

The air around Charlotte began to shimmer and slowly her feet rose off the ground. Mystogan stared up at her in awe.

“So what if you’re weak!

You’re not alone!

When weak things work together

Strength is born!”

As if by magic, Charlotte’s wings grew and turned iridescent. Gajeel’s jaw actually dropped – he could not fathom how they managed that.

“My country will not be destroyed!

It is my homeland!

It’s not going anywhere!

I will die before I abandon it!

And I will die before I let you abandon yours!”

In a burst of radiance and glitter her wings spread wide. The backdrop turned from burning orange to a smattering of stars as luminescent mist rose from the stage. She looked into the distance beyond the audience as she belted the last lines of the powerful refrain.

“I won’t give up!

I will stop this all,

or I will die trying!”

The rigging pulled her out over the audience at a startling speed, her wings and gown sweeping through the air in a dazzling blaze of light. The walls of the theatre suddenly became the night sky as she soared past, sweeping higher and higher until finally she was out of sight. In the near silence a single violin held a harmonic quietly as attention turned back to the stage.

Shiawase met Mystogan’s gaze with a stern resolve. Hesitance flitted in the man’s eyes, and the cat extended his hand.

“Are you coming?”

The violin dwindled to nothing. Gajeel suddenly realized he was holding his breath.

With purpose, Mystogan took the hand.

Shiawase smirked. Suddenly, the bass of EDM rumbled from beneath the seats, setting up a slow build. A chill shot down Gajeel’s spine and he exchanged amazed looks with Sue.

“Hold on!” Shiawase hooked his arm under Mystogan’s and gripped his wrist with both hands. The call of distant bagpipes echoed in the room on top of the building music. The two men took a few steps back. Shiawase flicked his wings out wide. The music grew as the bagpipes seemed to get closer. Mystogan nodded. Shiawase smiled. Then, they sprinted and leapt off the stage.

The scoring roared into a variation on the main theme at twice the speed it had been sung; Shiawase took off over the crowd, carrying Mystogan higher in a maelstrom of light and fire. Gajeel’s mouth hung open in awe as the audience let out whoops and whistles. Mystogan’s not wearing a harness. Is Gray… legitimately carrying him?

The two made a few more circles of the audience, the walls of the theatre – which Gajeel had figured out were screens – providing a continuous backdrop that gave the illusion of distance. As the music came to a close, they landed back on the stage, now a broken battleground of a city.

This was where Gajeel suddenly felt very, very strange.

“Cougairis!” Mystogan shouted. The scene was a blur of motion, cats and humans in combat in every conceivable space. Actors had spawned miraculously in the aisles near the stage and on one of the side balconies. That combined with the flash of explosions and the clang of swords made the battlefield come to life. He was surprised he could still easily focus on the main characters despite the chaos.

“Cougairis! I need your help!” Mystogan called again.

The man in question was forced onto the stage, locked in combat. This was the cat that he’d liked. The panther held back three other cats with his giant blade, fighting for control as they pushed their swords against his own. With a roar that Gajeel was sure just had to be recorded, the giant cat shoved his adversaries backwards, two falling off the front of the stage and out of sight. The last stumbled back, gripping his side painfully before crumpling to the floor in a heap.

The black cat turned to face Mystogan, and Gajeel froze.

Over Cougairis’ left eye was a slash; a deep, thick, raw slash that hadn’t been there in the first act.

Gajeel’s head throbbed and his heart pounded, chest tightening until all he could manage was a raspy pant. The edges of his vision grayed. Wha…? What’s happening?

“Gajeel?” He heard Sue whisper his name, but it sounded as though it were a thousand miles away. “Gajeel, are you okay?”

He lifted his hands and felt them tremble wildly as his eyesight shrunk to a pinpoint. He could hardly see, hardly feel. His long, wild hair fell over his shoulders as he tried to shake away whatever was doing this to him. He could no longer register Sue tugging at his arm in worry.

What…? Is this one of those… panic attack things? He couldn’t think of any reason he would have a panic attack – he’d never had one before and didn’t have any traumatic experiences that he could think of. It can’t be a panic attack. Why would a play give me a panic attack?

He looked back to the stage. His tunnel vision centered back on Cougairis. He tried to look away, to any other character, any other piece of set, but the cat’s scarred face seemed to fill his view. That scar. That black fur. That white muzzle. Something seemed to be stabbing his brain at every angle and yet he could not tear away from that face. Suddenly the cat looked out into the audience – looked right at him. As if being shot through the heart his breath stopped, and somewhere in the deepest recesses of his mind, he heard his own voice.

I’m taking you back to my guild one way or the other! And then, I’m going to make you my cat!

---

Gray watched from the shadows as Elfman strode to the front of the stage, their one and only child actor, Violet, perched on his shoulder. The audience roared and whistled as the large black cat set her down and she gave a small curtsey. Incredible, for a third grader, Gray smirked. I hope she sticks around.

The curtain call had always been one of Gray’s favorite parts of a show. Especially the final curtain call, on closing night. Molding yourself into another character was a huge, exhausting effort, and sometimes it was difficult to let go and become oneself again after rehearsal. The final curtain call, Gray felt, was an effective way to bridge the gap between being the character and living his own life. The audience, just for that final scene, now acknowledged you as both the role and the actor. In a way, it was a moment where he could be both people at once.

The music changed from Cougairis’ theme to that of Shiawase and Charlotte. Gray straightened his moss green, one-sided shawl over his bare shoulders and strode out from behind the curtains. From the other side, Charlotte – or perhaps now he should say Laurissa – strode out to meet him, a spring in her step as she took his hand. Renewed whistles and shouts rose from the house as they approached the edge of the apron, and just as they had done for every curtain call, Gray pulled her in for a kiss before they took their last bow. It had been her idea, of course, and the audience ate it up like free salsa at a Mexican restaurant. He and Laurissa weren’t romantically involved, but the reaction from the crowd was something they could both get behind.

The two parted as the music changed again, gesturing extravagantly as the star of the show took the spotlight. Mystogan rushed forward, twirling his staff several times before planting it solidly and whipping off his veil. The crowd screamed, applauding wildly and jumping to their feet. Gray clapped just as fiercely – not just for the performance, but for the grin spreading slowly over the blue-haired boy’s face. He knew that grin. The sage-prince Mystogan was gone; Jellal was back.

The company linked their hands and took their final bows as the music finished, and for the last time on that show, the curtain dropped.

“Excellent work, everyone!” Director Dreyar joined the scene from backstage, a toothy grin peeking from behind his mustache. “Very good indeed! A show well worth the effort! Head on home and we’ll strike the set tomorrow evening!”

“And don’t forget, the cast party is on Friday!” Mirajane added. The group bubbled into an energetic hum, matching the chatter of the audience just beyond the curtain. Hugs and claps on the back passed around along with laughter and the repetition of various inside jokes. Gray was happy – sometimes the afterglow of a performance was just as good as the show itself.

“Gray!” He twisted around to find the source of the call. Jellal waved him over. He grinned.

“Good to have you back, Jellal,” Gray replied. They did an elaborate fist-bump.

“It’s good to be back,” Jellal sighed. “At least, for a bit. King Oberon’s not a very complex character, so I won’t have to get into him for another couple weeks.”

“I’m sure Erza’s happy about that,” Gray nudged playfully.

Jellal blushed. “You could say that.”

“MYSTOGAN!” Gray turned just in time to dodge Elfman barreling through the crowd. The burly teen clapped Jellal hard on the back, and Jellal looked like he might’ve had the wind knocked out of him. “Your performance! OTOKO DA!”

“Thanks,” the blue-haired boy coughed. “You can call me Jellal now, though.”

“Oh, right,” Elfman chuckled. He turned to Gray. “Gray! You coming to Angie’s with us?”

Gray was tempted to say yes. He really wanted to. But he wasn’t sure if he’d make it that long.

“No, I gotta head home,” he replied. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Homework, y’know?”

Elfman gave him a funny look. “Homework? How? Today was literally the first day of school.”

Gray gulped. “Japanese stuff, y’know? Have to prep for tutoring.”

“Mmmm zannen da ne…” Elfman hummed.

“Yeah, that’s too bad,” Jellal continued. He didn’t look as convinced as Elfman was.

“Yeah…” Gray trailed off. He glanced between the two nervously, but tried to continue as if nothing were strange. “I should probably head out, actually. It’s pretty late and I really gotta get started.”

Jellal nodded, though his eyes still flickered with doubt. Gray gave a slight wave and sauntered away as confidently as he could, despite the knot in his stomach.

He made a short stop by the dressing room to pick up his things and drop off his shawl, his wings, and a few of the smaller accessories. The majority of his costume had been body paint and various prosthetics, so there wasn’t much he had to return to the company – there wasn’t much he had to wear on his way home, either. Body paint wasn’t a fun stain to get out of clothes, and he certainly didn’t want to scrub it out of his favorite jacket.

He made his way out the back to the rear parking lot, the night air chilling his bare chest. The cold didn’t bother him much – he was a hockey player, after all – but he was glad he’d come extra early to school to snag the closest spot. He clicked his key fob and the lights of his Chrysler 300 flashed. No one else had left yet; traffic was clear.

The ride home passed in a haze, as it always did. A turn here, a traffic circle there, the wonky tree on the end of the block followed by the gas station. He pulled into the dark driveway of his small, blocky house. No lights were on; his roommates were likely asleep. Good.

He locked his car by hand so it wouldn’t make a sound, then slipped inside as quickly and quietly as he could manage. A fan was on in the entryway, blowing softly against his bare chest. He cursed silently. His roommates wouldn’t have known better – he’d never said anything, never even gave a hint. At least, he was pretty sure he hadn’t. He wasn’t really sure if that was actually a good thing.

Just get to the shower, he thought. Get the paint off. You’ll be fine. Only a few more minutes.

He left the lights off as he made his way through the house, familiar enough with his home not to bump into anything in the dark. He figured most normal people could do that, could walk through their own house in the dark. This wasn’t strange. He was normal, too. Completely normal. Other people had sudden adrenaline jumps, right? It was nothing. Normal people occasionally had their heart start beating out of control, too, right? He was fine. He would be fine. This was normal.

Gray wasn’t sure he was being so stealthy anymore – blood pounded in his ears and he could hardly breathe, let alone tell if anyone else was awake. It was fine though. He shut the bathroom door behind him and ripped off the last of his prosthetics. It stung; the glue was particularly strong on his face. It didn’t matter though. If he was bleeding, he’d find out later. He couldn’t tell if he had cuts without the lights on.

His hands fumbled with the shower handles, shaking more than he would’ve liked. The water spattered for a moment before coming in a steady stream. Good. Warm. Paint. Take the paint off. He kicked off the last of his clothes. Steam. Hot water, sliding over his skin. Peeling away the paint. Not fast enough.

The blue skin of his character fell away, and left behind was only Gray.

Gray, and her.

#fairy tail #scripted wishes #fanfiction #japanese #anime #nalu #lolu #jerza #gajevy #gruvia #theatre

[faiththefox]

The Sun of the asylum Chapter 2: Meeting the patients

Sorry its taken so long to post this Ive got school and there have been some big storms in my area so I have put my laptop on charge just in case. Anyways I hope you guys enjoy.

@uirene you wanted me to tag you with every chapter so here you go! lets start the story

@ask-the-new-killer (I wrote this a while back just check the Sunlily tag next time! I’ll try to tag you when I finally get around to the third chapter lol)

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I wait in the lobby of the asylum for the head nurse so I could find out where my on-site room is and get a tour of the building. I stand there for only a minute before a women her 50′s comes in with a very sour look on her face. She huffs at me before extending her hand out to me. “Welcome Miss.. Rose was it?” She says as I mumble “Its Tori.. rose is my surname” to which she ignores me. “I’m Miss Rachael and this is the Hills asylum the home to some of the famous killers in history more commonly know as the slashers. You are going to be replacing me as the head nurse of this facility so its best to give you a tour now before meeting your patients” She drones on as she starts walking. 

She lead me around the asylum showing me all the activity areas available to the patients ‘although she commented on the fact they shouldn’t have to have them for murders’ I think back as she showed me each of their rooms. It seems like all the brothers were roomed together while Billy, Micheal and Jason were put in their own rooms. The place wasn’t as big as I thought but this just means there should be better chances of getting closer to them right?  Suddenly, Rachael brought me to a room completely covered in Christmas decorations “This is billy’s special places.. as he calls it. This is where you bring him if his “fits” become to much.” She says bluntly before pulling me away and started leading me outside. 

There they were.. the Slashers. Micheal was throw flat rocks at what looked like a makeshift person. Bubba, Chop-top, and nubbins were playing tag and running all around the place. Bo was leaning on a wall looking very pissed off while his brother was sitting by the fence drawing in a sketch book. Jason was also sitting near the fence but facing more towards the woods with his shoulders slumped down almost... sad looking. Brahms was just sitting smack dab in the middle building a very sad looking castle out dirt but the weirdest thing was billy who was chained to a bench with a straitjacket and muzzle. I look over at Rachael who waves her hand out over the yard “Why don’t you go meet them while I go finish getting the last bit of paperwork ready for you then Ill show you their activity planner so you know what they do on which days.” She bluntly says again before walking back inside.

I start walking over to Jason cause something was pulling me over to him. I sat down in the dirt, getting my uniform dirty, before looking at Jason tilting my head. He turns and looks at me as I notice what he had been doing. In the dirt was a a childish drawing of a little boy and what looked like an older woman. My eyes widened as I realized that this was him and his mother. “Do you miss her?” I say softly as he kept looking at me. He looks back at the drawing before nodding with his shoulders slumping down more. I gently placed my hand on his shoulder and smiled “I miss my mom to sometimes but all I need to know is that she loves me with all of her heart” I spoke gently before Jason hugged me surprising me. I forgot to meet all of the other slashers as I just sat with Jason telling him stories my mom told me about herself. Soon Rachael came back outside and walked over to us which made Jason tense up. “I see you are getting close to Mister Voorhees. Shall we head inside?” She says in her dull tone. I nod getting up as Jason turns back to the woods and his little drawing. 

We walked inside and did everything that was need before she lead me to my room. Giving me the key before walking away leaving me to my own devices so, I start to unpack and put all of my stuff away. As I putting away my Brahms costume my phone started ringing from my purse on the bed that I had just pulled out of my bag. I pull it out and check the caller I.D and surprise surprise it was my brother Alex “Whats up bro?” I say as I answer the phone. “Hey! How was your first day..? Did you get hurt?” He asked and I could hear the worried tone in his voice. I laugh before replying “No but Jason seems to like me now! I told him.. about mom” My smile faltered as I said the last part. Our mom had died two years ago during her trip around the world... She was walking around Paris and her heart-rate got to high... they couldn’t save her. Alex was quiet before I say “I didn’t get to meet the others so its going to be a crazy ride tomorrow.” He laughs halfheartedly. We chat for a few minutes about random things trying to get our minds off of mom for a moment because her death hurt us terribly. 

We said goodbye and I finished putting away my stuff before flopping into my bed and passing out almost as soon as my head hits the pillow.  

~~~~~~~~~~The Next Morning~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I woke up to the sound of loud knocking on my door. I jump up and walked over to the door opening it forgetting I didn’t change last night so I probably look like crap. At the door was a young nurse about 20, I guessed fresh out of college or nursing school. “H-hello Miss Rose... umm Miss Evans wanted me to tell you today is the day you get control to see how to do with the patients...” She says in a shy and nervous tone. I place a hand on her shoulder and smile “Thank you for telling me and call me Tori! Also don’t be nervous around me Im only older then you by 6 year hahah” I say jokingly. She nervous smiles back before rushing off to something. I shut the door and quickly see that my hair was a rats nest and my outfit was a bit wrinkled. I groan as I brush my hair out but decide that I wouldn’t have much time to change and headed out the door. 

I head to the dining room (it was to small to be a cafeteria and seemed more like a dining room to me) and see all the slashers sitting at the table but no food in front of them. “Hello I’m the new head nurse Tori! Sorry for the quick intro but why don’t you guys have food?” I quickly question. “I dont know you tell me? Man you are shit head nurse” Bo says making glare at him before walking into the kitchen area. “I’ll make something does anyone have any requests for breakfast?” I call out to me through the window thing as I put an apron on. “PANCAKES!” Three very hyper voices call out making me laugh. I quickly make a chocolate pancake recipe my mom used to make for me. Then I put the two pancakes from the huge batch on 9 separate plates. I brought two out and sat me in front of Jason and bubba before running back and trying to being the plates out as quickly as I can.

Everyone dug in quickly after I set all the plates down expect for Micheal, Jason and Brahms. I sigh walking back into the kitchen and making some toast for myself as I used all the batter for their food. After 30 minutes I walked back in to see everyone’s plates were clean making smile just a bit as I grabbed everyone’s plates to put them in the kitchen. I walk back in and smile “Ok guys today is a free day so I can fully get to know each of you guys!” I say with a happy tone. Everyone (expet for the ones with masks) looked happy and rushed off but billy grabbed my arm as I walked to follow the rest out. I only then noticed that he wasn’t wearing the muzzle or jacket today. “Flithy pig..” he softly mutters and I see that his eyes aren’t fully focus which made me a bit sad. I lead him to his christmas room and set him down. His face lights up and he starts playing with all the toys in the room. 

Billy finally got focused with a coloring book I was able to leave the room and start to check on the others. The first group I found was the sawyer brothers listen to the radio and playing with some blocks. I knocked lightly on the door frame when the music went to commercial making them all look at me. Bubba clapped his hands and run up to me hugging me practical lifting me in the air. “Whoa! Bubba can you please put me down!” I say laughing a bit with a smile which I guess he didn’t expect the me be happy? I could see his eyes widen behind the latex mask the replaced his original one. He giggled setting me down as his brothers started chanting “Bubba’s got a girlfriend behind him”. I smile and say “Just wanted to see how you guys were doing! and if you needed anything!” Bubba nods and points at the blocks before pulling me over to them. Chop-top laughs and says “He wants to play with ya! Good for ya!” as Bubba and I started playing for an hour before I had to go. Bubba was happy and waved as I left to go check on the others which lead me to the art room where Micheal, Brahms and Vincent. 

I watched Vincent work with the clay making a beautiful statue of an alicorn before I was snapped out of it by Brahms’s childish whining as Micheal grabbed one of the colored pencil that he wasn’t even using. I walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder like I did with Jason and the young nurse. “Is there a problem sweetheart” I ask defaulting the nickname out of habit. I could see Brahms’s eyes widen as he looked up at me from his coloring book on the table. He shook his head before turning his head back to his coloring book (which looks like greta and him making me sigh in my mind). Micheal didn’t even look at me as he worked on this beautiful looking mask so I left him alone. I left and found Jason by himself outside looking at the forest again. I walk up and gently put a hand on his shoulder like yesterday making him turn to me. “You missing her again?” I ask in a soft tone but he shook his head. He made a drawing of eyes “You want to just look at the woods because you like nature?” I guessed making him nod his head quickly. “Mind if I join you?” I ask making him nod as I sit down next to him. This was a good start as any I guess.

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FINALLY DONE IM SOOO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG TO MAKE THIS! IVE BEEN SO BUSY BUT HERE IT IS! HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY! IM GOING TO GO DO RANDOM STUFF LOL!

Also She didn’t find Bo because he was hiding away from her so he didn’t have to deal with her. 

#micheal myers #jason voorhees #brahms heelshire #vincent sinclair #bo sinclair #billy lenz #Bubba Sawyer #nubbins sawyer #chop top sawyer #Sunlily #Oc #Chapter 2

[mushyyroom]

To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before (1/?)

This amazing edit was made by the even more amazing @persongoingslow

Read on Ao3// TRAILER PARODY PLS CHECK OUT!// and @evaeselgreatest made a version of this story thats awesome too so I highly recommend checking it out!

I’m just getting around to posting this on here! I hope you like it! This version is more based on the book than the movie so hopefully you still like it!

Next Chapter// Word Count: 5209 

Summary:

Cyrus writes love letters. Letters that he writes when he feels emotions so strong that he doesn’t know what to do with himself. There are 5 letters in total- one for each boy that he has ever loved before.

There was TJ, the popular basketball captain, Gus from homeroom, Marty from the party, Walker from the art gallery, and Jonah, the boy with the cutest dimples, but he was Andi’s boyfriend.

These letters were never meant to be seen by anyone else but Cyrus himself. Until one day they are.

Jonah is Andi’s boyfriend, but everyone in their group was a little in love with him. Before he was Andi’s boyfriend he was just Jonah Beck. Older, Amazing, ultimate frisbee playing, something to look at from afar, Jonah Beck. And by some miracle, he started hanging out with their ragtag group of friends.

Buffy liked Jonah because he could stand his ground. She didn’t mind having him invade their little group as much as she did with other people. He was someone she could arm wrestle with and not give in right away. Cyrus assumed that Buffy always wished that he and Andi were more athletic. She loved them for who they were, but he knew that she wished that she could fully share that part of her life with them.

If Cyrus had to take a guess as to why Andi was enamored by Jonah, he would have to guess that it was because Jonah was damn near perfect. He was always polite around her parents and grandparents, they adored him, and he was always friendly to everyone. There was absolutely nothing that he couldn’t do. Okay there probably were some things he couldn’t do, but he seemed almost invincible most of the time. His smile could end wars. Wars!

He used to have a crush on Jonah. But that was long gone now. He had made peace with the fact that Jonah and Andi were just going to be a thing and not just a phase a long time ago. It was the right thing to do, to let go of it.

He had even wrote a letter. The kind of letters he’s written only four other times in his life. A letter he writes when he has a crush so intense that he can’t function until he does something about it. And they were for his eyes only. They were stored away in a T-Rex shaped container he had gotten as a child and they were only taken out when Cyrus felt like taking a self pity trip down memory lane. Jonah’s goodbye letter was in there along side the one for TJ Kippen from seventh grade, Gus from homeroom freshman year, Marty from the sophomore party, and Walker from that art gallery (who was now one of his close friends). Those were his most secret possessions. Not even Buffy or Andi knew about them, and he intended to keep it that way until they were older and could just laugh about it.

“Cyrus? Are you okay?” Buffy nudges him out of his thoughts. The Spoon was half full with people they didn’t know and the sun was just beginning to go down.

Cyrus shook his head and popped a tater tot into his mouth, “Yeah. Just lamenting over the fact that we have to start school tomorrow.”

Jonah slightly jumped when Andi put her fingers in her ears, making noises, “La la la la! Shh! Cyrus we’re not supposed to be talking about it. We have to just have a nice last day of summer before the worst year of highschool ever!”

Cyrus forgot that they agreed not to talk about the impending junior year of doom. But it’s not like that was what he was actually thinking of. He blamed himself for not being able to come up with a better lie. Buffy laughed beside him at her friends antics, “Although Andi is right, while were still on the topic,” she turned to face Cyrus, “You’re driving me tomorrow right?”

Shit. He forgot about that too. Although he got his license a while ago, Cyrus still paled at the thought of having to drive. Buffy still had to go through the whole process and since Andi only had her motorbike, a motorbike for one person that is, it was Cyrus’ duty to take himself and Buffy to and from school. Why did he agree to that again?

“I can always give you guys a ride if you need,” Jonah smiled, his eyes filled with light and all things heavenly. Jonah really was his savior.

Buffy shook her head, “No need Jonah. Cyrus needs to defeat this fear of driving that he has. But just in case I got this,” She ducked under the table for a second before smugly presenting a bike helmet.

“You got a new bicycle?” Cyrus raised a skeptical eyebrow. Last time he checked Buffy said she’d rather run all the way to school then get a new bike. She wasn’t too fond of them after their seventh grade fiasco. But if she was planning on riding to school instead he was more than happy to celebrate.

Buffy fit it snuggly on her head and clicked the strap on under her chin. She grinned, “Nope. I brought it for the car ride.”

“Well that does wonders for my self confidence,” Cyrus said sarcastically.

“Can’t be too prepared!” Buffy replied in a chipper manner.

“Well I guess Jonah can drive you home tonight!” Cyrus swings his legs out from under the booth, promptly standing, “I should get going.”

Andi groaned, pouting a little as she watched him tug on his coat, “Aw! Okay fine! See you tomorrow?”

“Of course!”

Buffy called after him as he left, “This is the year Cyrus!”

She was right. They’ve already decided on this a while ago. This was the year that everything was going to change. This was the year that they would check a bunch of stuff off of their old bucket lists before creating a whole new one just for senior year. They were going to make the best of a supposedly crappy year. That was the plan, and if Cyrus loved one thing, it was a good plan.

The bell dinged and the air was still warm from the summer sun. Cyrus walked around the corner from the restaurant where his beat up little car was waiting for him to drive the 5 minutes back to his house. He could do it! Or at least that’s what he kept chanting to himself as he buckled up and turned on the engine. Why was he so scared of driving? It wasn’t like he was a risky driver like some of the kids in Shadyside. He just couldn’t help the heart racing rush of anxiety he got when he was behind the wheel.

He really didn’t want to have to drive Buffy to school everyday. Andi was a much better driver than he was, she should just drive them in her mother’s car everyday, it’s not like Bex didn’t walk to work anyways. She could handle the pressure of controlling a machine that could kill someone in the blink of an eye.

Maybe it was because Cyrus was so hyper focused on his impending dread that he didn’t notice himself drifting into a fourway stop, or that he was running a stop sign, until another car made a deep dent in the side of his passenger door.

For a moment all Cyrus could register was his own screaming and his heart trying to escape his chest. With his eyes still squeezed tight, Cyrus moved to put his car in park before shaking his leg. Alright well those were still working at least.

The pavement beneath his feet felt like jello as he took a shaky step out of his car, only to be faced with an annoyed woman. She was older looking, older than his mom but not quite as old as Cece, and she was wearing the typical soccer mom outfit.

“Didn’t you see the stop sign?” She questioned, and oh boy did she look pissed.

Cyrus shook his head fastly, he was sure it was just gonna fly off at any minute, “N-No mam! I’m so sorry.”

The woman must have seen the scared look on his face because she just sighed and her countenance morphed into only a slightly perturbed look, “You kids and your phones. Well my car doesn’t look like it was damaged, do you want to report it?”

He shook his head again. He could not live with himself if he already had to report an accident as a beginner.

“Okay, well do you want me to stick around for you to call help?” She raised an eyebrow. She sure was nice.

But Cyrus didn’t feel like he needed two people looking disappointed at him at the same time so he just said, “No. It’s okay, thank you so much mam.”

The woman just drove off after that. And while her car might have been fine, his had a giant dent in it.

How could he do this? His parents always said to drive with a clear mind and focus on the road, two things he obviously did not do. They were going to kill him! All four of them!

He sat down on the hard curb and just stared at the car. He knew he wasn’t ready for this kind of responsibility. He still needed his mom to drive him to far away places and relied too much on everything in town being walking or biking distance. God, why was he so useless!

His eyes were wet and he knew his voice was the complete opposite of calm when he pulled out his phone and went to his contacts list. It rang three agonizing times before it was picked up, “Jonah! C-Can you help me?”

He was crying on the phone. To his old, secret, forbidden crush. The crush whose letter rested in his dinosaur box with the rest of his dead crushes. Could this situation get anymore embarrassing?

Jonah, by some miracle (or curse) since he was usually such an oblivious boy, picked up on it, “Cyrus? What’s wrong?”

“I was in a car accident. Can you come help me?” Cyrus’ voice was still wet.

“Woah! Dude, are you okay?”

“Yeah I’m not hurt or anything, can you just come get me? Without Andi and Buffy?” He didn’t need his friends fretting over him. He just wanted to get home as soon as he could.

Jonah sounded more relieved as he continued, “Of course, Uh...Where are you?”

Cyrus looked around at the houses, “463 Wesmyer road. At the intersection.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can, just,” He paused for a moment and Cyrus could hear him mumble something to, presumably, Andi and Buffy. “Stay there.”

The line went dead and Cyrus almost wished he asked Jonah to stay on the phone with him. But then he started to cry again so he was happy he didn’t. The silence was almost haunting and he wasn’t too keen on being left alone with his thoughts to mull the whole situation over.

“Underdog? Are you okay?” That wasn’t a name he had heard in a long time. His head popped up at the voice. TJ Kippen squinted at him with a questioning look. He was driving one of those jeeps without doors, because of course he would driving the death trap 2.0 with one hundred percent confidence.

Cyrus just nodded and looked back down, hoping TJ would take that as a sign to just leave. And he was almost certain that TJ did just that until he hears the jeep pulling over to the side.

“Wow. You really did a number on your car,” TJ whistled, “Did you get the other person’s insurance?”

“No,” Cyrus dared to look up. He was sure that his eyes were unattractive puffy and his nose needed a fluffy tissue, but if TJ noticed, he didn’t say anything.

TJ plopped down beside him, “Why not?”

“It was my fault,” Cyrus shrugged, unsure of what else he could say.

“Did you call triple A?”

Cyrus shook his head and added, “But someone is coming to help me.”

He could see TJ nod to himself. They used to be friends. Close friends. TJ used to be apart of his little seventh grade group. The boys were TJ, Walker, Jonah, Kip, and himself. The girls were Andi, Buffy, and sometimes Amber if she was around and felt like ‘hanging with the younger crowd’ as she put it. It’s funny how it all worked out. But it’s not until you’re older that you realize how much of it was by fate. The universe. TJ and Buffy couldn’t even stand to be in the same room at first. It took them months to make up. Kip had once just been a random guy that they had seen around school a few times, and then suddenly he was around all the time. Walker had moved into their school district not even after three months of meeting him at a middle school mixer. And Amber was once an enemy as well, those Kippen siblings had a thing for trouble it seemed, but she made her peace.

By the time highschool came, they split into different crowds. Kip had outgrown their little group and started to hang out with what he considered the in crowd, leaving Cyrus to start highschool without someone he considered to be a good friend. Not that Buffy and Andi let him be deprived of amazing friendship though.

They’re not friends anymore either, Cyrus and TJ. So it was weird to be near him again after so much time has passed. But it was a familiar weird.

TJ’s phone buzzes and shook his head, annoyed, before pulling the device out of his back pocket. He reads it and reluctantly said, “I gotta go.”

“Where?” Cyrus couldn’t help but ask. Curiosity did kill the cat and all that jazz.

TJ sighed and shoved his phone back where it was, “To Kip’s.”

“Oh, you better get going then. He’ll be mad if you’re late.” It was weird for Cyrus to tease like that, but TJ just brought out that side of him. The playful and confident side. It was one of the reasons Cyrus loved being around him back in middle school. He often wished that their friendship lasted longer just because of it.

TJ rolled his eyes, “It’s not like he owns me or anything.”

“Hey! If you got married then his name would be Kip Kippen!” Cyrus remarked like it was the first time he had ever thought of it. He, Buffy, and Andi had laughed about it a bunch when they heard about the two’s relationship from the high school news grapevine, “Although, he might let  you have his last name. He’s generous like that, isn’t he?”

“Goodbye Goodman,” TJ just let an amused smile slip onto his face before turning to his car. He paused though, like he forgot something, and turned back around, “Are you okay now?”

“Yeah,” Cyrus could feel himself smiling too, “Thanks for stopping, it was really nice of you.”

“Of course,” TJ nodded firmly and turned back towards his car again, this time for good.

TJ was a character out of an old movie, timeless. He could be a debonair spy that had all the bad guys falling for his trap. He could be sipping milkshakes with another person at a diner bar and cruising down the street all slow like in an open air car. He was picturesque. There was just something that a lot of people liked about him.

He was Cyrus’ first kiss with a boy. The one he considered to be his first real kiss. It seemed like a distant memory. Or maybe something more akin to a fever dream. But it was only four years ago.

Jonah arrives a few minutes later, standing in front of Cyrus, as Cyrus is replying to Buffy and Andi’s worried texts. He looked at the house behind him, “This is 436. You told me it was 463.”

“No! I said 436.” Cyrus said with the leftover confidence he had from his encounter with TJ.

“Dude, you definitely said 463,” Jonah shook his head. He nodded towards his car, “Let’s just get going.”

Cyrus mulls over how he’s going to tell his parents after they call triple A. They weren’t going to be too crazy about it. He was supposed to be responsible. He was the son of four shrinks.

But it turned out that they weren’t too mad about it. The car had to be brought into the auto shop of course, but other then that hassle his parents didn’t seem too upset. They were more relieved that he wasn’t seriously injured.

Buffy was not happy about it though as Cyrus rung her doorbell at 6:30 AM. She gave him a tired glance and pushed right past him. He had to jog a little just to catch up.

“Hey! Don’t be too mad at me!” He wailed as he trailed after Buffy, her pace not changing.

Buffy stopped short and he almost bumped his nose against her backpack, “I don’t get why you insisted that we don’t ask Jonah for a ride. Now I have to get up earlier than before.”

“I’m sorry!” Cyrus groaned, “It’s just embarrassing! You’re my best friend, can’t you just understand?”

“Whatever,” She rolled her eyes and started walking again, but this time at a more normal pace, “I’m still annoyed at you but I’m too excited to tell you what I found out last night! Guess who broke up.”

“Who?”

Buffy leaned in like she was telling him a CIA secret, “TJ and Kip! Kip dumped his sorry ass.”

“Woah,” Cyrus’ eyes widened, “Why?”

Buffy shrugged, “Details are still fuzzy. But the most popular theory is that Kip met some college guy. Guarantee you he’s been cheating on TJ all summer.”

“That’s terrible.” Cyrus looked horrified. How could one human do that to another one?

They chatted about it all the way up until first period, which was gym. Cyrus stood next to Buffy as she did her warm up stretches. And by warm up stretches, he meant full on splits.

Cyrus thought he was imagining it when he saw TJ staring at him. But all three times that he looked up TJ was looking his way. TJ had been playing basketball with a few of his friends when he passed the ball over to someone and started jogging towards them.

“Hey, can I talk to you?”

Buffy and Cyrus share a look as she stands up. “Him or me?” Buffy raises an eyebrow.

“Cyrus.”

Buffy wraps her arm around Cyrus’ shoulder in a protective manner, “Whatever you have to say, you can say it to both of us.”

“I really need to talk to him in private?” TJ just rolled his eyes and shook his head.

Buffy gives Cyrus one last glance before huffing, “Fine. I’ll start jogging. But remember Kippen, I run fast so if you try anything!”

“Buffy!” Cyrus screeches out, motioning frantically for her to just go.

She looks at TJ threateningly before turning around and running off.

TJ leans down to whisper, “Just so you know, I don’t have an STD.”

What the fuck? Why the fuck? Cyrus was a little taken aback to say the least, “I never said you did.”

“I also don’t always eat the last baby tater!” His whisper had a bit more bite to it.

“TJ, slow down,” He tried to put up placating hands, “What are you talking about?”

“You said that. In your letter! How I’m just a overly confident guy who goes around giving out STDs! Remember?”

“I never wrote you a letter!”

Wait. Yes. Yes Cyrus did write him a letter. But it couldn’t possibly be the same letter. That letter was safely hidden away!

“Yes you did! I got it in the mail, to me from you!”

He was dreaming. That was the only logical explanation that he could come up with. There was no way that TJ had seen the letter.

“Cyrus?”

Or maybe he wasn’t. TJ was holding the letter. That letter that was supposed to never be seen by anyone else but him. But there it was! His handwriting and everything!

“How- How did you get that?”

“Mailman dropped it off yesterday,” TJ sighs and starts in a lighter tone, “Listen, it’s fine just don’t go gossiping that I-”

“The mailman? Like the one that comes to your house?” Cyrus squeaked out, interrupting TJ.

“Yeah?”

Cyrus feels his breathing begin to quicken. He feels as if he's about to faint, his head dizzy and light. If only he were lucky enough to just faint and escape this situation.

He could feel himself break out into a sweat, letting out a rushed, “I wrote that a really long time ago!”

“Okay.”

“Like really really long ago. And I don’t even remember what I wrote! It’s from like, middle school! I don't know how it got out, can I see it please?” He tried to act casual and calm as he held out his palm. But everything about Cyrus in that exact moment screamed the opposite.

Instead of doing what he’s asked, TJ smiles widely for the first time in their whole conversation, “Nah. I wanna keep it, i’ve never gotten anything like this before.”

Cyrus takes a leap of faith and jumps for the paper. Unfortunately TJ was, and probably always will be, the more agile one out of the two and he swiped his hand away, “Why do you want it?”

“Please!”

“Fine,” TJ handed it over, chuckling softly, “It’s all yours.”

“Thank you,” Cyrus said promptly, the paper starting to crumple in his hands from how nervous he was.

Cyrus started to turn away when TJ grabbed his arm. This time he looked a little more sheepish as he scratched the back of his neck, “Wait. Listen, I didn't mean to steal your first kiss. I mean, I didn’t realize that-”

“It’s totally fine!” Cyrus rushed out. Was this conversation over yet? “Forget about it! Have a nice day TJ! Buffy wait up!”

And then Cyrus bolted towards Buffy, who conveniently just lapped them, leaving TJ to stand there awkwardly.

It wasn’t until he was safely drifting off in history class, it was only the syllabus so it was fine, that Cyrus pulled the letter out.

Dear TJ K,

First of all, I know you think you’re so cool when people call you by your last name. But you’re not. It makes you seem weird and it’s confusing most of the time.

Did you know that when you kissed me that I would fall for you? Love you? Sometimes I think you did it on purpose. You definitely did it on purpose. You know how I know? You think EVERYONE loves you, TJ. I hate that about you. I hate it because it’s true. Everyone does eventually love you. Including me. Well, not anymore.

You do things like push people around and put on this defensive shell because you don’t care. But you do care. You care a lot about what others think of you.

You always take the last baby tater without asking. Rude much?

And you’re perfect at everything! Too good. You could give others a chance to be good, but you never do.

You kissed me for no apparent reason. Even though I had my suspicions that you liked Kip. You had your suspicions that you liked Kip. Kip had the suspicion that you liked Kip. But you still kissed me. So I ask you this: Why? Why would you do that to me? My first real kiss was supposed to be fireworks and rain. Something perfect! But thanks to you it was none of that.

The worst part of it is, that stupid nothing of a kiss made me realize that I liked you. I never really thought of you that much before. And maybe that’s why you did it. Because you wanted me to be like everyone else and see you in that way. And your trick worked. From then on, every time I saw you my heart wouldn’t stop going Baboom baboom baboom at lighting speed.

You’re so good looking it’s unfair. Truly unfair. I think it’s your eyes. Or maybe that rare soft smile.

Even though I don’t think you deserve it, I’ll list the things I like about you:

You started to talk to me, even though I was some dorky kid and you were the captain of the basketball team. Why did you do that?

You helped me get a muffin. More than that, you had faith in me that my friends never did. You gave me confidence.

You’re unfairly tall. It’s no wonder you’re amazing at basketball.

You apologized to my best friend and let me help you. You let me in, and I could tell you don’t do that a lot. It made me feel special.

After that kiss I went on loving you for the rest of seventh grade and most of eighth. It hasn’t been easy, I nearly broke when I heard that you and Kip were official. It was even harder to see it with my own eyes. You probably make him feel special, right? Cause that’s what you’re good at.

You probably don't know what it’s like to like someone so much but know that they would never feel the same. People like you don't have to worry about stuff like that. At least it was easier since we stopped being friends. At least I don’t have to see it all the time.

And now that the year is almost over, I know for sure that I’m also over you. You can’t phase me anymore TJ. I can’t be effected. And I am proud to say that I’m the only person at school who as probably made it out alive after falling for your charms. Now I won’t have to worry about falling for you ever again! That’s a relief!

Even if I did kiss you again I bet I’d probably catch something. Although this time, it’d probably be an STD!

Cyrus Goodman

Why did he have to mention the whole kissing thing? It really wasn’t all that special.

But Cyrus still remembered that day clear as ever. They were at Andi’s house, with no parents.  Bex had to go do something and trusted them to be alone. He had worn his best outfit that day, new shoes included, even though he’d just end up taking them off as soon as he got there. Nothing even really happened! No impromptu game of spin the bottle or seven minutes in heaven like he was dreading but secretly hoping for. All that happened was that they watched a movie then played monopoly until Buffy flipped the board.

It was slightly disappointed for Cyrus, who lived for romantic stories.

He and TJ were the last to be picked up and they sat on the porch as they waited. Cyrus kept tapping his foot as he awaited a text from his mom and TJ just played on his phone with a bored expression.

And then, out of nowhere, TJ said, “You know, your eyes remind me of chocolate.”

“Thanks!” Cyrus took it as a compliment, “I’ve always thought they were more of a mud bro-”

Then TJ leaned right in and kissed him, leaving Cyrus stunned.

He hadn’t thought of that moment in a while though. But if TJ got his letter then did Walker? Gus? Marty?

Jonah.

Oh no! Jonah!

Cyrus ran home from school as fast as he could once the bell rang. Clothes and knickknacks went flying everywhere as he tore his room apart. Where was that box? He couldn’t find it anywhere. When he asked his mom she smiled apologetically and said “It probably got sent out with the donation stuff. I didn’t even know you still used that thing.”

His phone buzzed. It was a text from Jonah.

Hey did you need a ride? Buffy’s with me right now.

Cyrus just ignored it and collapsed onto his bed. He couldn’t even imagine Jonah reading that letter. He couldn't imagine Andi's reaction to it! Closing his eyes and hoping for the best for the next day.

Like Andi’s dad always said, the universe decides everything. So it was the universes fault that Cyrus couldn’t open his locker and dash to his first class like he planned. It was the universes fault that Jonah had woken up late. And it was the universes fault that TJ had to go in to meet his math teacher whose office was right by Cyrus’ locker.

“Cyrus,” Jonah scared Cyrus as soon as he closed his locker, “Can I talk to you?”

Shell-shocked, Cyrus just nods.

“What is this?” Jonah holds out the letter, “I don’t understand.”

“I have no clue...” Cyrus laughs nervously. He felt like his spirit had ascended to the heavens and he’s just watching his body in some terrifying movie.

“I mean, you are the one who wrote it right?”

“Oh wow!” Cyrus feigned surprise and took the letter back, fighting the urge to crumple it up and never look back, “Where did you even find this old thing?”

“I got it in the mail,” Jonah’s face was eerily serious. His expression was usually sunshine and lollipops, “How long ago was this written?”

“Long long time ago!” Cyrus let out an uneasy laugh, “Don't even remember when that's how long ago!”

“Right...” Jonah still looked confused, “But you mentioned ultimate camp, and that was only a few years ago.”

“Time is just a concept!” Cyrus tried to play it off casually. Fuck the universe! Why did this have to happen to him.

“So then... do you... or did you have feelings for me?”

“I mean, yeah I guess you could put it that way,” Cyrus rushed out, wanting to just drop the subject ASAP, “But that was before you were with Andi. So like, basically back in the jurassic period!”

Then Jonah asked the one question Cyrus was hoping he wouldn’t, “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

He’s looking at Cyrus like a confused first grader. A sad, confused first grader. and Cyrus panicked, so naturally he said the first things that came to his mind, “I’m dating someone!”

“You are?” Jonah’s eyes widened, which only made Cyrus panic more.

“Yep! Someone I really like so please just forget about this?” He pleaded, “And don’t mention it to Andi! I was super confused when I wrote it. I don’t need it causing problems in our relationship.”

Jonah hesitantly nodded, but that wasn’t good enough. Cyrus needed to make sure that nothing came in between him and his two best friends, “Do you swear? Swear on ultimate frisbee that you won't say a word!”

“Okay I swear dude,” Jonah still looked out of it though, “Who’s the guy?”

“Guy?”

“The person you’re dating?”

And that’s when Cyrus spots TJ coming out of his math class, “TJ Kippen,” The bell rings and Cyrus pushes past Jonah, “Gotta go!”

“Wait!”

Cyrus runs to TJ like he's never run before. TJ looks confused as he sees him sprinting towards him. At the last possibly second, Cyrus leaps at him, wrapping his legs around TJ’s waist and his arms around TJ’s neck. Cyrus had never been that close to another person in his life. TJ is understandably shocked, raising an amused eyebrow,  “Cyrus? What are-”

Cyrus cuts him off with a kiss.

I hope you liked it! Im here on tumblr to chat anytime so feel free to send me asks/prompts if you’d like! Or just plain old message me! I need friends

#andi mack #tyrus #cyrus goodman #tj kippin #buffy driscoll #marty from the party #jonah beck #sorry for the double post! #writing

[sailorrrvenus]

Shooting Dreams and Nightmares: An Interview with the Bragdon Brothers

Great photography tells a compelling story. Weaving narrative into photos and photo series is a challenging task — the storyteller cannot simply make the world conform to their imagination as the author or painter can. Photographers only have one frame to convey meaning — motion and action have to be paraphrased and the moment of transformation captured.

The limitations of physical reality and framing a decisive moment to tell a tale are what makes being a good photographic storyteller so hard. You need to think laterally, as your story relies heavily on the imagination and subconscious mind of the audience, much like infiltrating someone’s dreams.

Gareth (above, at left) and Gavin (above, at right) Bragdon are two street photographers who do this artfully. It’s unusual to find someone who performs this effectively, let alone two brother’s whose work compliments each other in a style that blends dreams with nightmares, emphasizing the surreal aspects of the everyday. There is a meaning in here, but just like in a dream the meaning is unclear and muddled- strange things are illuminated people become alien lifeforms, and life the world becomes a surreal and scary place.

I interviewed them to divine some understanding of these surreal images they create.

James Cater (to Gavin): On your old blog you wrote that “I can easily see commonalities between my handwriting, photography, music, drawing and so on…for example, I tend to favor delay/reverb which to me would be the sonic equivalents to photography’s slow shutter speeds, multiple exposures, blur and the like.” This is an interesting way for an artist to find their element in photo taking — by looking outside the photographic art to find their ‘punctum’ as you called it. Things have definitely developed since this, but what kind of art outside of photography continues to influence your style?

Gavin: I would definitely say movies/TV…in fact, maybe more so than other photography itself. Books as well. My favorite genre for all of those tends to be science fiction as well horror if it’s well done, you know focuses more on the eerie, uncanny, surreal, atmosphere and so on. And at least nowadays, consciously or subconsciously those are the sort of things I try to capture.

And I think it reflects the real world at the moment. We are living in a sort of sci-fi/horror. Everything seems off-kilter, unwinding, surreal, not quite real, this twilight zone. You got Donald Trump, of course, Britain is committing suicide with Brexit because it’s collectively lost its mind, you got other similar movements popping up in other countries. There’s also the effects of climate change becoming more and more tangible. We’re in a very weird and dark place right now.

(To Gavin) Many of your photos look like they are from stills the X-Files. How are you influenced by the paranormal or surrealism?

Gavin: As far as the former goes, when my brother and I were kids we spent a lot of time reading about the paranormal- ghosts, UFOs, cryptids and so on. I suppose that came from the fact that unlike many other kids our age, we never were able to watch say Friday the 13th or the Freddy Kruger movies. I think all kids have something of a need for horror and scares of some kinds, so for us, the books and shows about the paranormal supplemented that. The only difference was that, supposedly, what we were into was non-fiction. And there is something very surreal about the paranormal versus Hollywood horror.

Incidentally, we were/are planning to do a documentary project on “paranormal culture” if you will, in Scotland, you know tagging along with ghost hunters, UFO watchers and the like. Because of circumstances involving my brother’s illness, its been shelved for the time being but as soon as he’s in a better state its something I really look forward to jumping into.

(To Gavin) Do you have any experiences with extra-terrestrial life forms, or do you have any beliefs that some may consider ‘fringe’ or conspiratorial?

Gavin: I tend to be agnostic about the paranormal/unexplained. I tend to think there is “something” that happens, like what we think of as ghosts or alien spacecraft are things that are real in a way – that something is happening, and not just a bunch of lies or sightings of Venus/swamp gas (some of the skeptical explanations are just as ridiculous and far-fetched as the explanations of some of the most out there “believers”). But of course, yeah, there is a lot of bullshit out there.

Ghosts and UFOs and so on seem almost like glitches in the Matrix…they don’t belong in our rational, scientific natural world and yet there they are. What are they? Are they what they seem at face value? I mean even if none of it is real, I still find fascinating to think that maybe there is a thin membrane between our natural/rational world and others that leaks over sometimes. If it is all a modern form of mythology, then it’s a fascinating one.

I can say I have a short handful of what would be considered paranormal experiences, things that I can’t explain otherwise. And believe me, I wrack my brain for alternatives because I don’t want to go around believing I had an “experience” for the sake of it. I have seen what I believe was UFO once, its small fry stuff, but it’s one I really can’t explain. Basically, it looked a bit like a star flying around in erratic patterns around a larger and brighter star before the former seemed to disappear into the latter, which then just stayed there like a star or planet would. It’s a weird one and doesn’t even quite make sense as an alien spacecraft much less anything natural.

(To Gavin) How did you shoot this? Was it come across by accident with no explanation? What is the back story to this pic?

Gavin: I did indeed come across this by accident, as to what is really going on…I feel in this case it is best to say a magician never reveals his secrets. In some cases, I think the photo is best served by keeping the back story to one’s self, to keep the mystery. This is the kind of shot I really really actually hope to find every time I go out and shoot. A scene that, when framed correctly, is truly surreal and creates its own bizarre reality as a photograph separate from what really transpired in life. I really wish I would come across stuff like this more often!

(To Gavin) How did you light this? Who is this person in the photo?

Gavin: This is actually a staged shot. Back in college, I was working a project about, incidentally, the paranormal and I was trying to create photos that sort of resembled allegedly real photos you find in books on the subject. This is my brother on a rooftop in Malta. I put the flash behind him and put the camera in P-mode on a high ISO. The camera exposes for the ambient light, so doesn’t know the flash is there so thus things the flash hit end up being overexposed and seem to glow. The eyes are just basic “light-dots” I added in Photoshop. My PS skills are quite basic actually.

(To Gavin) Is this lit with a flash? Or just natural light? How did you achieve this hyper-realistic look?

Gavin: Natural light. Very straight ahead shot, point and click. I didn’t do very much with it in post-processing so I figure the hyper-real look is just from the layers in the scene.

(To Gareth) From an except I read on your bio from Forward Thinking Museum, you mentioned that you were learning photography in the hope of becoming a photojournalist, I read also in a 121clicks article recently that you have been struggling with a diagnosis of Lyme disease. How has this impacted your aspirations?

Gareth: It’s honestly a bit painful and unimaginable at this point to think I once such aspirations. The interview with Forward Thinking Museum was done back in 2013. My symptoms had suddenly started in February of 2012. I was having hundreds of skipping heart beats a day, breathlessness, random dizziness attacks. All the doctors assured me these symptoms where simply being caused by “anxiety” and “panic attacks.” I constantly felt like I was one missed heartbeat away from death. Despite this, my fascination with photography was only growing and my will power was stronger than my fears. When I look back at my old B&W pictures I can really see that weird mixture of passion and physical discomfort of the time reflecting off the pictures themselves. Living like that was hell and I still have no idea how I managed to capture those pictures, study photography, work or be in a relationship well dealing with that shit. I was sick but I was also healthy enough to still dream. What I did not expect is how much worse I was going to get over the coming years. By 2015 I started having daily headaches and migraines and by 2017 I was deathly sick having memory problems and crippling fatigue. It was not till the eleventh hour that my invisible illness that made my body into a torture chamber was finally exposed and diagnosed. Right now I’m undergoing treatment, but it’s been very difficult and is a slow process. For right now all of my dreams aspirations are being kept in a metaphorical shoe box until I’m better.

(To Gareth) When I read the quote, “I think the streets will prepare me for future battlefields,” it made me thought of a Bruce Gilden video, where he is walking around NYC and talking about the really dangerous place is ‘right here’. In any disaster area, working as a journo, you have a press pass that gives you permission to take photos. But being just a shmuck with a camera means anyone can do what they want to you. With your in your face style of photography, what are some of the most interesting reactions you have inspired from an uninvited flash to the face?

Gareth: Shooting this way, of course you’re not invisible but most of the time the reactions are fine. Sometimes people laugh or say thank you if you compliment them, sometimes it elicits a conversation. Bizarrely enough, there are quite a few people who don’t seem to notice it. However and inevitably you will get the odd bad reaction. One time I shot this guy smoking a pipe. He literally punches the camera into my face and starts having this big go at me, saying he’s a lawyer, he’ll sue me blah blah blah.

I stood my ground saying what I was doing was not illegal but physically assaulting someone was, which is what he just did to me. Usually when you get a bad reaction or whatever I try to be apologetic or defuse the situation not always “stand my ground”, but when someone acts like that and starts getting physical over their photo being taken, then no. Anyway, I was later informed that this guy was a lawyer — in fact, an infamous one well-known for his hard unionist and anti-Catholic leanings. He’s been caught out singing sectarian songs and jokes. He’s a bigot. After learning that, I did not feel bad in the least for ruining his day.

(To Gareth) In your series “Breathing Mannequins” you bring a high fashion style to the streets. It seems with this series that the intention is to make photographs that contrast human skin to the unnatural covering of clothing. What inspired you to look at people this way and how did you learn to shoot in this way?

Gareth: When I was first exposed to street photography I was attracted to its unpredictability and the unforgiving nature. I remember trying to find the “decisive moment” when I first started shooting the streets and completely failing to capture anything compelling. It was not until a Halloween night when I decided to use the pop-up flash on my camera that I discovered the potential of the flash. Soon afterward I purchased a flash gun and a set of flash triggers.

Much of my inspiration to capture subjects up close and off guard came from looking at the work of a local street photographer and friend Paul Cruickshank. I was drawn in by the feeling of energy and intimacy in his pictures. Armed with my flash gun and lots of courage I began getting closer to subjects. The black and white lighting storms soon led to interesting results and further pursuit of that aesthetic.

When I was shooting in black and white I was thinking in black & white and looked for people and things that would fit the dark and eerie look. It was not till I reluctantly switched over to color that I begin to see the visual potential of the subjects that peacocked their way down Edinburgh’s busy high street. I was also simultaneously being inspired by the surrealistic color work of Guy Bourdin. I believe his work had an even greater impact on me than most of the well-known street photographers.

(To Gareth) Do you yourself wear clothing that draws attention to yourself, that sacrifice practicality for fashion?

Gareth: No, not deliberately unless my clothes are falling apart. I used to wear this leather jacket where the sleeve was torn to shreds, but I was too skint to replace it for ages. One of my friends said it looked like I’d been run over by a car. That’s as flashy as I get with my fashion.

(To Gareth) How much warning did you get to take this- did the umbrella reverse itself just as you hit the shutter?

Gareth: Not very much warning. I was crossing the street and the umbrella reversed itself right in front of me and it was thanks to fast reflexes that I was able to catch this at the drop of a hat.

(To Gareth) Did you know this guy before you took the photo? It looks as if you were just having a drink with him?

Gareth: This was in Monmarte in Paris. There was a camera crew around this guy and I just jumped into the middle of this crowd and took the photo. Had no idea who he was but was later told he is something like a famous owner of cabaret clubs or something like that. Some celebrity anyway.

(To Gareth) What is the story behind this wretched creature?

Gareth: I caught this just as its owner was about to pick it up into a taxi cab. It’s some sort of particular breed. No idea which.

(To Gareth) How was this lit? How did the copper react to you flashing his horse?

Gareth: Lit with an off-camera flash from under the horse’s snout. It was years ago I took this, but I don’t recall the cop really reacting. I guess sometimes you have to be careful with horses. Horses can scare the shit out of me sometimes.

(To Gareth) When putting together your portfolio or an exhibition, what do you look for? What are the themes or feelings that speak to you to create a series like Under Grey Skies?

Gareth: When we put together things like that, I suppose not only are we trying to pick strong individual photos, but also have a sort of consistency to them. Not necessarily something literal, or something you can express with words, but the sort of thing you can see coming together when you’re actually in the act of putting it all together. I suppose the same can often be said of when we have series like the one you mentioned. Like when those photos are taken, we’re usually just out to take photos, not necessarily with a particular theme in mind, not consciously anyway. It’s later on that you notice when you have enough of these pictures does the “theme” become apparent.

(To Both) What is a vivid dream that you can pull from recent memory?

Gareth: I had this really vivid dream recently that involved a really strange lighting storm with these sort of UFOs in the sky and everyone looking up at them and then this apparition of a girl appearing in the hallway. It was really eerie and a bit omen-y. Then the dream moved on to going to the theater with my brother and parents and having a bad feeling about it and getting us to leave in a taxi, only for it to bring us back to the theater which then gets attacked by these guys with samurai swords. One of those dreams where you end up feeling really weird when you wake up.

Gavin: I had a dream where I found out Karen O died from meningitis or something. I was proper tore up about it.

(To Both) Lastly, this wouldn’t be a photographer interview without a gear shot, so show me what you shoot with!

About the author: James Cater is a digital and analog photographer, film lab operator, and model. The opinions expressed in this article are solely those of the author. You can find more of Cater’s work on his website and Instagram. This article was also published here.

source https://petapixel.com/2019/04/01/shooting-dreams-and-nightmares-an-interview-with-the-bragdon-brothers/

[pauldeckerus]

Shooting Dreams and Nightmares: An Interview with the Bragdon Brothers

Great photography tells a compelling story. Weaving narrative into photos and photo series is a challenging task — the storyteller cannot simply make the world conform to their imagination as the author or painter can. Photographers only have one frame to convey meaning — motion and action have to be paraphrased and the moment of transformation captured.

The limitations of physical reality and framing a decisive moment to tell a tale are what makes being a good photographic storyteller so hard. You need to think laterally, as your story relies heavily on the imagination and subconscious mind of the audience, much like infiltrating someone’s dreams.

Gareth (above, at left) and Gavin (above, at right) Bragdon are two street photographers who do this artfully. It’s unusual to find someone who performs this effectively, let alone two brother’s whose work compliments each other in a style that blends dreams with nightmares, emphasizing the surreal aspects of the everyday. There is a meaning in here, but just like in a dream the meaning is unclear and muddled- strange things are illuminated people become alien lifeforms, and life the world becomes a surreal and scary place.

I interviewed them to divine some understanding of these surreal images they create.

James Cater (to Gavin): On your old blog you wrote that “I can easily see commonalities between my handwriting, photography, music, drawing and so on…for example, I tend to favor delay/reverb which to me would be the sonic equivalents to photography’s slow shutter speeds, multiple exposures, blur and the like.” This is an interesting way for an artist to find their element in photo taking — by looking outside the photographic art to find their ‘punctum’ as you called it. Things have definitely developed since this, but what kind of art outside of photography continues to influence your style?

Gavin: I would definitely say movies/TV…in fact, maybe more so than other photography itself. Books as well. My favorite genre for all of those tends to be science fiction as well horror if it’s well done, you know focuses more on the eerie, uncanny, surreal, atmosphere and so on. And at least nowadays, consciously or subconsciously those are the sort of things I try to capture.

And I think it reflects the real world at the moment. We are living in a sort of sci-fi/horror. Everything seems off-kilter, unwinding, surreal, not quite real, this twilight zone. You got Donald Trump, of course, Britain is committing suicide with Brexit because it’s collectively lost its mind, you got other similar movements popping up in other countries. There’s also the effects of climate change becoming more and more tangible. We’re in a very weird and dark place right now.

(To Gavin) Many of your photos look like they are from stills the X-Files. How are you influenced by the paranormal or surrealism?

Gavin: As far as the former goes, when my brother and I were kids we spent a lot of time reading about the paranormal- ghosts, UFOs, cryptids and so on. I suppose that came from the fact that unlike many other kids our age, we never were able to watch say Friday the 13th or the Freddy Kruger movies. I think all kids have something of a need for horror and scares of some kinds, so for us, the books and shows about the paranormal supplemented that. The only difference was that, supposedly, what we were into was non-fiction. And there is something very surreal about the paranormal versus Hollywood horror.

Incidentally, we were/are planning to do a documentary project on “paranormal culture” if you will, in Scotland, you know tagging along with ghost hunters, UFO watchers and the like. Because of circumstances involving my brother’s illness, its been shelved for the time being but as soon as he’s in a better state its something I really look forward to jumping into.

(To Gavin) Do you have any experiences with extra-terrestrial life forms, or do you have any beliefs that some may consider ‘fringe’ or conspiratorial?

Gavin: I tend to be agnostic about the paranormal/unexplained. I tend to think there is “something” that happens, like what we think of as ghosts or alien spacecraft are things that are real in a way – that something is happening, and not just a bunch of lies or sightings of Venus/swamp gas (some of the skeptical explanations are just as ridiculous and far-fetched as the explanations of some of the most out there “believers”). But of course, yeah, there is a lot of bullshit out there.

Ghosts and UFOs and so on seem almost like glitches in the Matrix…they don’t belong in our rational, scientific natural world and yet there they are. What are they? Are they what they seem at face value? I mean even if none of it is real, I still find fascinating to think that maybe there is a thin membrane between our natural/rational world and others that leaks over sometimes. If it is all a modern form of mythology, then it’s a fascinating one.

I can say I have a short handful of what would be considered paranormal experiences, things that I can’t explain otherwise. And believe me, I wrack my brain for alternatives because I don’t want to go around believing I had an “experience” for the sake of it. I have seen what I believe was UFO once, its small fry stuff, but it’s one I really can’t explain. Basically, it looked a bit like a star flying around in erratic patterns around a larger and brighter star before the former seemed to disappear into the latter, which then just stayed there like a star or planet would. It’s a weird one and doesn’t even quite make sense as an alien spacecraft much less anything natural.

(To Gavin) How did you shoot this? Was it come across by accident with no explanation? What is the back story to this pic?

Gavin: I did indeed come across this by accident, as to what is really going on…I feel in this case it is best to say a magician never reveals his secrets. In some cases, I think the photo is best served by keeping the back story to one’s self, to keep the mystery. This is the kind of shot I really really actually hope to find every time I go out and shoot. A scene that, when framed correctly, is truly surreal and creates its own bizarre reality as a photograph separate from what really transpired in life. I really wish I would come across stuff like this more often!

(To Gavin) How did you light this? Who is this person in the photo?

Gavin: This is actually a staged shot. Back in college, I was working a project about, incidentally, the paranormal and I was trying to create photos that sort of resembled allegedly real photos you find in books on the subject. This is my brother on a rooftop in Malta. I put the flash behind him and put the camera in P-mode on a high ISO. The camera exposes for the ambient light, so doesn’t know the flash is there so thus things the flash hit end up being overexposed and seem to glow. The eyes are just basic “light-dots” I added in Photoshop. My PS skills are quite basic actually.

(To Gavin) Is this lit with a flash? Or just natural light? How did you achieve this hyper-realistic look?

Gavin: Natural light. Very straight ahead shot, point and click. I didn’t do very much with it in post-processing so I figure the hyper-real look is just from the layers in the scene.

(To Gareth) From an except I read on your bio from Forward Thinking Museum, you mentioned that you were learning photography in the hope of becoming a photojournalist, I read also in a 121clicks article recently that you have been struggling with a diagnosis of Lyme disease. How has this impacted your aspirations?

Gareth: It’s honestly a bit painful and unimaginable at this point to think I once such aspirations. The interview with Forward Thinking Museum was done back in 2013. My symptoms had suddenly started in February of 2012. I was having hundreds of skipping heart beats a day, breathlessness, random dizziness attacks. All the doctors assured me these symptoms where simply being caused by “anxiety” and “panic attacks.” I constantly felt like I was one missed heartbeat away from death. Despite this, my fascination with photography was only growing and my will power was stronger than my fears. When I look back at my old B&W pictures I can really see that weird mixture of passion and physical discomfort of the time reflecting off the pictures themselves. Living like that was hell and I still have no idea how I managed to capture those pictures, study photography, work or be in a relationship well dealing with that shit. I was sick but I was also healthy enough to still dream. What I did not expect is how much worse I was going to get over the coming years. By 2015 I started having daily headaches and migraines and by 2017 I was deathly sick having memory problems and crippling fatigue. It was not till the eleventh hour that my invisible illness that made my body into a torture chamber was finally exposed and diagnosed. Right now I’m undergoing treatment, but it’s been very difficult and is a slow process. For right now all of my dreams aspirations are being kept in a metaphorical shoe box until I’m better.

(To Gareth) When I read the quote, “I think the streets will prepare me for future battlefields,” it made me thought of a Bruce Gilden video, where he is walking around NYC and talking about the really dangerous place is ‘right here’. In any disaster area, working as a journo, you have a press pass that gives you permission to take photos. But being just a shmuck with a camera means anyone can do what they want to you. With your in your face style of photography, what are some of the most interesting reactions you have inspired from an uninvited flash to the face?

Gareth: Shooting this way, of course you’re not invisible but most of the time the reactions are fine. Sometimes people laugh or say thank you if you compliment them, sometimes it elicits a conversation. Bizarrely enough, there are quite a few people who don’t seem to notice it. However and inevitably you will get the odd bad reaction. One time I shot this guy smoking a pipe. He literally punches the camera into my face and starts having this big go at me, saying he’s a lawyer, he’ll sue me blah blah blah.

I stood my ground saying what I was doing was not illegal but physically assaulting someone was, which is what he just did to me. Usually when you get a bad reaction or whatever I try to be apologetic or defuse the situation not always “stand my ground”, but when someone acts like that and starts getting physical over their photo being taken, then no. Anyway, I was later informed that this guy was a lawyer — in fact, an infamous one well-known for his hard unionist and anti-Catholic leanings. He’s been caught out singing sectarian songs and jokes. He’s a bigot. After learning that, I did not feel bad in the least for ruining his day.

(To Gareth) In your series “Breathing Mannequins” you bring a high fashion style to the streets. It seems with this series that the intention is to make photographs that contrast human skin to the unnatural covering of clothing. What inspired you to look at people this way and how did you learn to shoot in this way?

Gareth: When I was first exposed to street photography I was attracted to its unpredictability and the unforgiving nature. I remember trying to find the “decisive moment” when I first started shooting the streets and completely failing to capture anything compelling. It was not until a Halloween night when I decided to use the pop-up flash on my camera that I discovered the potential of the flash. Soon afterward I purchased a flash gun and a set of flash triggers.

Much of my inspiration to capture subjects up close and off guard came from looking at the work of a local street photographer and friend Paul Cruickshank. I was drawn in by the feeling of energy and intimacy in his pictures. Armed with my flash gun and lots of courage I began getting closer to subjects. The black and white lighting storms soon led to interesting results and further pursuit of that aesthetic.

When I was shooting in black and white I was thinking in black & white and looked for people and things that would fit the dark and eerie look. It was not till I reluctantly switched over to color that I begin to see the visual potential of the subjects that peacocked their way down Edinburgh’s busy high street. I was also simultaneously being inspired by the surrealistic color work of Guy Bourdin. I believe his work had an even greater impact on me than most of the well-known street photographers.

(To Gareth) Do you yourself wear clothing that draws attention to yourself, that sacrifice practicality for fashion?

Gareth: No, not deliberately unless my clothes are falling apart. I used to wear this leather jacket where the sleeve was torn to shreds, but I was too skint to replace it for ages. One of my friends said it looked like I’d been run over by a car. That’s as flashy as I get with my fashion.

(To Gareth) How much warning did you get to take this- did the umbrella reverse itself just as you hit the shutter?

Gareth: Not very much warning. I was crossing the street and the umbrella reversed itself right in front of me and it was thanks to fast reflexes that I was able to catch this at the drop of a hat.

(To Gareth) Did you know this guy before you took the photo? It looks as if you were just having a drink with him?

Gareth: This was in Monmarte in Paris. There was a camera crew around this guy and I just jumped into the middle of this crowd and took the photo. Had no idea who he was but was later told he is something like a famous owner of cabaret clubs or something like that. Some celebrity anyway.

(To Gareth) What is the story behind this wretched creature?

Gareth: I caught this just as its owner was about to pick it up into a taxi cab. It’s some sort of particular breed. No idea which.

(To Gareth) How was this lit? How did the copper react to you flashing his horse?

Gareth: Lit with an off-camera flash from under the horse’s snout. It was years ago I took this, but I don’t recall the cop really reacting. I guess sometimes you have to be careful with horses. Horses can scare the shit out of me sometimes.

(To Gareth) When putting together your portfolio or an exhibition, what do you look for? What are the themes or feelings that speak to you to create a series like Under Grey Skies?

Gareth: When we put together things like that, I suppose not only are we trying to pick strong individual photos, but also have a sort of consistency to them. Not necessarily something literal, or something you can express with words, but the sort of thing you can see coming together when you’re actually in the act of putting it all together. I suppose the same can often be said of when we have series like the one you mentioned. Like when those photos are taken, we’re usually just out to take photos, not necessarily with a particular theme in mind, not consciously anyway. It’s later on that you notice when you have enough of these pictures does the “theme” become apparent.

(To Both) What is a vivid dream that you can pull from recent memory?

Gareth: I had this really vivid dream recently that involved a really strange lighting storm with these sort of UFOs in the sky and everyone looking up at them and then this apparition of a girl appearing in the hallway. It was really eerie and a bit omen-y. Then the dream moved on to going to the theater with my brother and parents and having a bad feeling about it and getting us to leave in a taxi, only for it to bring us back to the theater which then gets attacked by these guys with samurai swords. One of those dreams where you end up feeling really weird when you wake up.

Gavin: I had a dream where I found out Karen O died from meningitis or something. I was proper tore up about it.

(To Both) Lastly, this wouldn’t be a photographer interview without a gear shot, so show me what you shoot with!

About the author: James Cater is a digital and analog photographer, film lab operator, and model. The opinions expressed in this article are solely those of the author. You can find more of Cater’s work on his website and Instagram. This article was also published here.

from Photography News https://petapixel.com/2019/04/01/shooting-dreams-and-nightmares-an-interview-with-the-bragdon-brothers/