red-hues

Layers in the atmosphere

Light and air make for strange mixtures sometimes, with a great variety of beautiful optical effects produced in consequence. The reddened colour of this sunset is due to the greater amount of air that the light has to pass through to reach the ground at the grazing angle of dusk, as opposed to the right angle of noontime. Particles of dust and aerosols absorb, diffract and scatter most of the higher energy green to blue wavelengths, while the lower powered red to orange hues pass through while the shorter light paths of midday scatter all wavelengths but blue.

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“Promise me you’ll save him”


My edit. Thank god I need to go soon to see Rogue One, because otherwise I’d probably spend the night doing photo edits. 🙃 

I love the Muskrat Farm scene, especially since we never see the ‘massacre’ that Hannibal unleashed there. Changed the lighting in the back to resemble a foggy/warped doorway, as if the fallen angel that Hannibal is just stepped out of it…  

Also changed Hannibals eyes to the more blackish red hue they’re described as.

Seasons

Ashton

Autumn was coffee stains and shades of gold.

It was the warm of your jumper as the wind began to pick up. It was the crunch of the leaves below your feet as they fell from the trees in hues of red and yellow. It was the flavour of toasted marshmallows and pumpkin in hot drinks. It was the smell of bonfires crackling away through the air each night.

It was Ashton in his element.

It was the heat radiating from his hand as he pulled you close to add to your warmth. It was the sound of his laughter as he walked freely around your flat during his time off. It was the taste of coffee on his lips every time he kissed you, morning, noon and night. It was the smell of his aftershave on your pillows in the morning and on his sweaters that you stole.

Autumn was the season you loved the most.

You’d met him in the Autumn, the leaves changing colours and the wind howling around you as he’d walked directly into you. He’d been so focused on the picture he’d just taken that he didn’t notice you, concentrating on doing your jacket up, and the two of you had collided. And after several curses and apologies, he’d offered you a coffee through cheeks tinged pink and bashful smiles.

And so the season of change brought yet another to your life.

You spent the first one getting to know each other, the goose bumps on your skin nothing to do with the slightly cooler temperatures. The second came and with it brought the knowledge you were both in love, the third being when he moved his things into the flat you now shared. And subconsciously, the two of you operated around the season in which you met.

“Leaves are falling off the trees.” He mutters down the phone to you one night, the two of you counting the days until he’d be back home. “Means I’ll be home with you again soon.”

“New song lyrics?” You joke, a laugh falling from his lips as your eyes fall on the calendar, smiling at how close his arrival now is.

“Don’t tempt me.”

“Because heaven forbid you write a song about your girlfriend.”

“I’ll have you know I’ve written plenty of songs about you.” You can practically hear him rolling his eyes, and you can’t help the grin on your face. “Just not about our season. Something’s are just for us to know.”

“Whatever you say Superman.”

He thinks he likes you best in the Autumn.

When the wind tangles in your hair no matter what style you put it in. When you clutch onto his hand a little tighter because the temperature starts to drop. When you tended to wear his clothes rather than your own. When he could hold you close at night rather than having to say he loved you in a text.

Ashton knew it was the only time of year he’d ever propose to you.

With your sleeves hanging over your fingertips and the leaves under his knee as he knelt down. He decided that the red hues of the leaves made the perfect setting for love, that the park was a physical representation of everything you loved about the season. Although he had to admit, nothing would ever be more beautiful to him than your smile as you said yes.

Ashton came one Autumn, and stayed for the rest of them.

Michael

Since meeting Michael, Winter had become more beautiful.

You’d always said Michael had a talent of finding beauty in things others couldn’t. The way he turned words into lyrics and notes into melodies, the way he found the positives in situations others could never face. The way he saw all of your imperfections and loved you for them all the more, even if he denied that being a talent.

You should have realised that applied to Winter too.

Because before, it was cold and it was blank and it was lonely. Winter meant shivering as you walked to work and layering on clothes as a form of protection. It meant that the colours that usually surrounded the outside world were void and faded to dull greys, as if they’d taken a break until the spring.

Michael changed that.

Not because he could warm you up. His body temperature had always been slightly below yours, a fact he took advantage of. Whenever the weather was slightly cool he’d instantly wrap himself around you, whining that he needed you to share your body heat as his was nowhere near enough to protect him from the weather’s chilled atmosphere.

Not that you minded, of course.

It was more of what he introduced to you that Winter had previously been missing. Michael showed you where to find the colours in Winter. He showed you the sharp blue of the sky when the clouds rolled away, taking with them the layer of heat they kept. He showed you the warm oranges in fireplaces and the soft pinks in people’s cheeks when they began to warm up.

But most importantly, he made sure you didn’t spend it alone.

Michael was there on the extra cold nights, body pressed close to yours and snores interrupting your sleep. He was there in the mornings to throw his sweaters at you for an extra layer of warmth, a lopsided grin on his face. He was there to take you on the stupid cliché ice skating dates despite the face he couldn’t balance on his feet, never mind two thin blades.

“So ice skating’s dangerous.” He grins as you wipe the blood from the corner of his face, the two of you huddled in the toilets after he’d slipped up for the third time. “Who knew, eh?”

“About every other person on the planet.” You rolled your eyes as you replied, Michael snorting. “You’re lucky no one skated over you.”

“Ye of little faith, Princess.” Michael sighed playfully, squeezing your hips. “Besides, what’s life without a little risk?”

“Mike you are not James Bond, you do know that right?”

“Fine. Next time I won’t take you on a cute date.”

“If it preserves your life that’s good with me.”

And of course, sometimes Winter was still the worst time of the year.

It held memories that couldn’t be erased, no matter how you tried to forget them. And there were the nights where it was too cold and too dull and Michael just couldn’t be there with you to fix it even though he wanted to. Sometimes, Winter really did just suck.

But Michael made sure that was only sometimes.

He filled it with newer happier memories that you never wanted to forget, ones you clung on to. And even on the nights that you had to spend alone he’d make sure you were surrounded with comforts before he left.

Because if there was one thing Michael did best, it was make life, and Winter, all the more beautiful.

Luke

Traditionally, Spring was the season of new beginnings.

It was nature returning from it’s break in Winter; it was the comeback of warmth and colour. Spring held all sorts of meanings for all different people but one thing that almost everybody could agree on was that when it came to Spring, the season often brought the opportunity to start over.

It was what it had in common with your relationship with Luke.

Because it was often the Spring which brought the start of a new adventure for Luke. It would be when he was going off to promote this or write that, and though you never resented him for it, you couldn’t help but begin to grow a small hatred for the season.

Luke disagreed of course.

“You can’t blame Spring.” He chuckled one afternoon after over hearing your mutters about the season. “It’s only a season, it’s done nothing to offend you.”

“It takes you away.” You shrugged back, letting him wrap his arms around you as you stood at the sink. “That’s pretty offensive.”

“Can’t argue with you there Pretty Girl.”

And so you held a grudge against the season that most people adored. Whilst many grew happy about the blossoms forming on the tree branches and the return of the animals who’s been hibernating for the previous months, your mood would often deteriorate knowing that they were all signs that Luke would soon be leaving you again, for one reason or another.

Of course, Spring wasn’t all bad.

It meant that you could begin to wear slightly brighter colours, rather than the darker tones that winter clothes seemed to prefer. It meant the return of some of Luke’s shirts that had been hidden for the cooler months, shirts that whilst you appreciated how he looked in them, you enjoyed stealing for yourself even more. Spring meant Luke humming tunes he’d thought of and singing new songs you were hearing for the first time whilst he was in the shower. It meant Luke’s hair becoming slightly blonder to a little more sun, his eyes a little brighter because of more light.

“You know, I quite like Spring.” He mumbles one night, the two of you a mess of tangled limbs in bed. “It means I get to do a whole load of new things to make you proud of me.”

“I’m always proud of you.” You yawned, tracing the freckles on his chest with your finger. “That doesn’t go away and then come back in Spring.”

“Yeah, but I get to remind you in Spring.” He shrugged. “And I think that’s pretty cool.”

“Whatever you say Lu.”

It would never be your favourite season, purely because it would always be when Luke had to leave and you never enjoyed the sinking feeling that accompanied that. And whilst Spring was beautiful and it was full of life and colour and all sorts of new exciting things that you were yet to discover, you’d always be sceptical of it because of what it meant for your relationship. But it made Luke smile and you always thought he grew confident in the Spring because he was proud of himself. Spring always meant Luke bought you extra flowers and he always spent a little extra time with you because you both knew what was coming, but he did it all with a grin and mumbled I love yous every few minutes.

And if it made Luke happy, you think Spring can’t be so bad after all.

Calum

Calum had always reminded you of Summer.

You’d first thought of it when you’d met him; every cliché coming true as the two of you had literally walked into each other on the beach. You’d been a stuttering mess of apologies as Calum’s hands gripped your elbows, a soft chuckle falling from his lips as he’d introduced himself. The warmth of his hands heated your skin, and your cheeks flushed as he grinned at you, causing you to link Calum to the season. And it wasn’t just a specific part of him that resembled the season so well; you could make hundreds of comparisons between the boy you loved and the season of sun.

Like the way he radiated warmth.

It wasn’t just the fact he never seemed to grow cold. You had to admit having a human space heater as a boyfriend came with its advantages, particularly in Summer when he would randomly discard items of clothing to become more comfortable. But just being around Calum lifted you mood, like how everyone always seemed to be happier when Summer came around. Being around Calum made you feel safe and warm and good. Just like Summer did.

Which was probably why it became your favourite season.

You soon found yourself living in anticipation of the warmest months, excited to spend time with your man in whatever way you could. Some Summers were spent on tour, different cities each night and a different sunrise every morning. Those Summers were full of rushing around and stolen moments when no one else was looking; they were full of Calum living his dream before the two of you collapsed into each other’s arms in the early hours of the mornings. Other Summers were lazy mornings waking up in beside each other as the sun streamed in, soft kisses and quiet laughter before beginning the day together. Those Summers were full of adventures and friends and living in the moment; they were full of care free days and exciting evenings.

But no matter what they held, the Summers were always full of love.

Like tonight, where Calum’s sitting in one of the lawn chairs and your curled on his knee. The last of the sun’s rays were still cast over the garden despite the late hour, and the two of you were more than content with just sitting together as soft music played from his discarded phone.

“We’re gonna have a Summer wedding right?” He mumbles, fingers dragging through your hair. You move to look at him, a grin on your face. “What?”

“Who says we’re having a wedding?” You ask, lifting your left hand to wave in his face. “Last time I checked, we weren’t engaged.”

He scoffs, pulling your hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to where a ring should be, the ring should be. You roll your eyes at the gesture, but he only smirks back at you.

“Stop being picky and answer the question.”

“Yeah Cal.” You grin, going back to your previous position, your head resting on his shoulder as he played with your fingers. “We’ll have a Summer wedding.”

Because when else would you marry the boy who was practically the human version of Summer.