#i would screen record my process of gif making

[macabr3-barbi3]

CTRL ALT DELETE- Task Manager (Vox/Reader)

Something's up with Vox and you offer to help troubleshoot- it both does and does not go how you're expecting it to.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54688282

The least serious thing I've ever written: inspired by the time i started a timer in class one day to see how long my teacher talked about her son instead of teaching us; i ended up realizing 4 months later that i never stopped the timer and it was just running in the background and making my shit slow that entire time lmao there's a screenshot in the ao3 notes

Tags: Stress Relief, Sexual Tension, Chair Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Begging, Computers. Dirty Talk, very basic knowledge of computers

<3<3<3<3<3<3

Your new boss seemed stressed. 

Not in the usual way that he was stressed, either- the note from the assistant you had replaced was that usually when Vox was having an off day he would call for Valentino or have you pull a list of low earners for the month, banishing you from the room in either case. But he hadn’t spent any time with Val in months, basically the entire time that you’d been working with him as a personal assistant after getting promoted from a stage grunt for the news channel.

You had thought for a bit that he might make a move- that maybe that was why he promoted you, that he was charmed enough by you to end the on/off thing he had going on with Val, which made sense based on the timing. But when you tested that theory recently- made double entendres, brushed your hands against his arms or leg or back, blatantly invited him out for dinner and drinks- he didn’t seem interested. He declined your invite, allowed you to touch him without being overcome with lust, and the sex jokes just seemed to go whoosh. 

Right over his head. 

He was on edge and twitchy. He took longer to respond to things than he normally did, his processors slow, occasionally getting a ‘buffering’ message that flashed across his screen when someone asked a question. His hypnotic eye seemed to be suffering as well, the swirls having slowed down now to the point that they were no more mesmerizing than watching paint dry. It was frustrating and enraging him, and in turn frustrating you- he was fucking hot when he was angry, which didn’t help your attraction to him that he was ignoring. 

He was sitting at his desk in the control room when you entered, head in his hands as he stared at a piece of paper on his desk. The monitors were all lit behind him, showing recorded footage of the Tower throughout the day- you spotted a short recording of yourself talking to some of the marketing team a few hours ago. Like a Valentino caricature he read the paper, blinked his eyes a couple times, read it again. Picked it up and pulled it closer to his face like that would help, and his screen scrolled the words along the bottom like his internal system was trying to transcribe it so something he could understand. He finally dropped the paper with a groan, letting it flutter to the floor where it slipped under his chair and stopped just before you. 

“Are you okay, sir?” The question is out before you can stop it, and as was the normal recently it took a few minutes for him to answer. 

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he muttered, swiveling around to look at you. He clutched the sides of his screen, eyes narrowed and mouth delayed in its movements as he spoke. “I feel like I can’t focus on anything. I can’t process anything. My- just, fucking everything is slow and useless in my head right now! How am I supposed to be a master media manipulator when I can’t fucking concentrate for more than two minutes at a time?”

“You have seemed more… stressed than usual,” you agree. “Are none of your usual relaxing activities helping? Or have you done any troubleshooting?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Pardon?”

“Troubleshooting,” you say again, and at his blank stare you chuckle a little. “You know, doing a couple ‘quick fix’ things to see if that’s what’s causing the problem. Do you have like, a cache or something that you have to clear? An archive dump to get rid of old files?” You let your eyes track his body from top to bottom. “I’m not super familiar with how your… anatomy works?”

God, but you wanted to be.

He blinks a couple times. “I think I used to have someone that did that for me,” he says. “Years ago. I fired them because it didn’t seem necessary, I was running perfectly fine.”

“Yeah, well, that might be what the problem is.” You offer him a soft smile. “Sometimes stuff will work in sub-optimal conditions for a while before it starts causing issues. I used to do programming customer support when I was alive- it’s been a while but I could take a look if you want?”

His mouth twists in a frown. “I guess so,” he agrees. “I’m desperate enough to try anything. I need to be able to fucking concentrate if the Vees are gonna stay on top, everyone fucking knows that Val is hopeless with the business aspect of everything.” He gets the buffering symbol on his screen for a few seconds, groaning and shaking his head as he clears. “What do you need access to?”

“Do you have a way to access your… system? Externally,” you clarify. “I’m not a surgeon- I don’t plan on cutting into you to get to anything.”

Vox gestures behind him. “I can hook up to the monitors,” he says, “but we’ll have to be pretty close, doll. I have to be sitting here to be hooked up, and since this is the only chair, looks like this will have to be your seat.” He pats a hand on his thighs, not so much an invitation as a statement.

You fucking wished. You know this isn’t him trying to initiate anything though- you’d been trying for long enough that you’re ready to give it up and just accept that your hot, overlord boss didn’t want to fuck you. Helping him out felt more important than that anyway, so you would do your best.

“You got it,” you say, and cross the remaining space to perch yourself gracefully on his lap. You push the inappropriate thoughts about how firm his muscles are underneath you- how exactly did this man’s body work? Was it really just his head that was not organic matter?- and let him rotate the chair back to face the monitors.

The sight is intimidating, as is the position- you’re surrounded by reflections of yourself from every angle, Vox’s lithe frame seated behind you. This is where he does most of his business, the background site of everything that VoxTec handles. And he’s trusting you to help him fix whatever is wrong with him so he can get back to handling all of that, free of distraction.

You watch as thick wires come up from the floor to plug into the back of his head, the sharp hiss making you wonder if it was painful or intrusive. You won’t ask though, not when you’re getting ready to try to restore him to his usual ruthless self; he might consider that to be prying.

He pulls something up on the main monitor, the one that sits directly across from you, and waves a hand to it. A little keyboard and mouse emerge from the desk as the monitor powers on, and when you glance back you can see the same thing reflected on his face. “Have at it,” you hear him say, even though you can’t see his mouth moving.

Ignoring his open programs for the time being in case he needs any of them, the first thing you do is go in and clear his archived files. He’s got entire terabytes of useless information; employee records for people that have been dead or fired for decades; funny videos that he saved; resources for old news stories that are no longer relevant. Some of it you help him upload to a cloud server- after explaining to him what a cloud server is- and create files to designate for actual important shit.

You find the internal browser that he uses to pull information on the fly and help him clear the cache and cookies.

You help him sort security footage from Vee Tower and get rid of stuff that wasn’t actually necessary, like the short bits of static and dead air that happened whenever he used the cameras to teleport around the building. Everything that he has saved about mentions of that fucking radio demon also goes into the garbage. There are some files you can’t access, things like his memories and day to day recordings of conversations and things that he personally is part of. 

You delete what you can and empty the recycling bin.

As the process has gone on, Vox has relaxed more and more behind you. “I still don’t feel completely back to normal,” he murmurs, “but this is already loads better. It’s like a massage directly on my brain. You know, if I still physically had one.”

You hit the keys to open his task manager- CTRL ALT DELETE. “Unholy fuck- Jesus, sir, if you thought that was good this is gonna feel orgasmic,” you say absently, scrolling through the opens apps and programs that he has running. Has this man ever closed anything? You hadn’t realized a person or device could even have so many things going at once. “Do you just leave everything open in the background?”

He peers around your shoulder, bracing his hands on your hips as he sits up a little straighter. The movement causes your stomach to drop, arousal threatening to make itself known, but you push the notion down as he sets his hands back on the arms of the chair. “I guess so?” He watches you scroll through the extensive list. “I guess it just never occurred to me to close them. Opening the programs to use is just like my stream of consciousness I suppose.”

“Kay, well, that’s stopping now.” You click on the first item on the list- VoxtaGram. “I recommend closing non-essential stuff out at least once a month. More, if you have the time to go through everything. For now, just in case, there is something important we’re gonna go through some of the more recently opened things, set them up to open automatically when you start up, before we reboot your system- wait, can we reboot your system entirely without killing you?”

“No worries there, dear. I can, I just haven’t done it in years because it can take a while to start back up afterwards.” He sneers at the social media page. “You can close that shit. Any of Velvette’s crap she can handle on her own. Same with any of the fucking games that Val loads up when he’s bored- can I delete those entirely? Or block them? Fucking moth and his blue-light addiction…”

You get through a lot of the list, Vox kind of dozing off and only passively participating in the process. You’ve got the gist of it; things like his news sources, contacts list and phone, and the notes app are staying open and set to automatically launch when he does reboot and start back up. Pretty much everything else is closed out, things he pulled up for two seconds weeks ago to check on something or another before abandoning it. You’re making excellent progress when the next thing on the list gives you pause.

“Vox? Why is this- oh my god.” You can’t help it- you start laughing, throwing your head back to rest on his shoulder as you look at what’s now displayed on the screen.

A stopwatch had apparently been started and never stopped. The elapsed time was over three thousand hours, which came out to something like four months if your mental math was correct. He had had this running constantly in the background since you had started working for him, possibly even before. “I think I found the problem,” you chuckled, and his eyes were narrowed as he looked at the timer continuing to tick. “What is this?”

“What the actual fuck?” He buffers for a second- and you’re pleased to note that it’s already much faster than it has been lately- before you hear a dinging sound coming from him. ‘Fucking Hell, I should have known this was all Valentino’s fault.” He drags a clawed hand down his screen in an imitation of a facepalm. “I was timing him. He was fucking ranting about Angel Dust again while we were in a strategy meeting with Velvette- I had the stopwatch going to see how much of the hour session he wasted talking about that whore. I must have forgotten to turn it off.” He barks out a laugh, throwing his head back with the force of it while you look at him with amusement. “I’m gonna owe you big time for this, doll, you’re a lifesaver.”

You close the app out with a smile. “Just trying to help,” you say. “I think that was probably the worst of it- do you want to just try rebooting now?”

He lets out a groan when the app closes, and the sound shoots through your body straight to your core. “Go for it, hun,” he says, eyes closed as he leans back against the chair. “I think I’m good to go now, but it can’t hurt. You were right, sorting this shit out feeling fucking good.”

You’re suddenly very aware of the dampness of your panties as you bypass ‘kinda horny’ straight to ‘fuck me on this desk.’ You scold yourself mentally: Don’t jump your boss. He’s trusting you to help him right now- do not take advantage of that. Do not ride his leg like you very clearly want to because his voice is fucking hot. Fucking focus.

You clear your throat, closing out the task manager and hitting the button to restart him. “See you in a bit, sir.”

You stay seated on his lap just in case- he might still have something he wants you to do when he comes back online, some settings you could apply to close out things that are used for more than a week or so. It’s definitely not because you like the feeling of his strong thigh underneath you, tantalizingly close to your cunt if you, by chance, decided to tilt your hips forward and start grinding down on him. 

After just a few minutes get a message on the main monitor telling you to wait a moment- things start popping up on the other screens surrounding the central one, and it takes you a moment to recognize the pattern.

Its all videos of you- shot from Vox’s perspective, and a mortifying blush takes over your face. They’re all the moments that you had tried coming onto him. The innuendos and subtle entendres, the times that you touched him, pressed yourself against him in a tight space despite having another way to get to the copy machine, when you had invited him out for dinner. There’s also videos where he had just been watching you, apparently, taken from a distance as you spoke with Velvette or passed instructions along to a member of the team or discreetly tried to hide behind a vending machine when you noticed  Val coming into a room. 

There’s a satisfied grumble behind you, and before you can turn to look at him Vox has settled his claws onto either side of your waist and shifted you over a bit, to rest directly on the erection straining his pants. 

Which is a surprise, albeit a pleasant one.

“Thanks for the reset, doll,” he says, and his voice is a quiet growl as he lets his hands wander from your waist to your hips and back again, claw tipped fingers catching on the fabric. “I got a chance to look at some files while I was under and found quite the treat in your logs.”

This could either be very bad or very, very good. “Sir-”

“You know, I’m usually pretty good at picking up what a woman is putting down. Imagine my surprise when I realize you’ve been coming onto me for weeks and my shit was so fucked up and bogged down that I didn’t even notice. Like that?” He uses one hand to point to a screen in the far left of the central monitor, while he snaked his other hand down to rest on your thigh, his hand large enough to encompass the muscle at the edge of your skirt. On the screen, you had come to his office to drop off meeting notes for something you attended on his behalf. You had dropped the stack as you came around his side of the desk, and got down fully on your knees to pick them up, glancing up at him through your lashes. You blush watching it now- it had seemed obvious to you even then, but watching it now, the way that Vox had seen it? When he didn’t say anything about you being face level with his prick you had used a hand on his thigh to brace yourself to stand up, letting your fingers run along the inner seam of his trousers when you rose back to standing. Still no reaction, and you had left his office equal parts turned on and irritated with yourself. Him not having acted on it had been the final nail in the coffin cementing the fact that he was not interested in the slightest.

You let out a weak exhale as the Vox sitting under you gets his other hand in the same position as the first, using his grip to ever so slightly spread your legs on his lap. He lets his fingers skim your inner thighs and you shake with the effort of not begging him to just touch you. This was delicious, agonizing torture.

“Had I been in my right mind for that display, baby, I would have fucking ṛ̣̬̫̍͌ͩ͟ụ̴̴̾̀͟͡i̧̻̻͉̜͑ͪ̾͟n̫̫̘̗͕̲̲̎ͥḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧd̶̵̯̯̼̘ͨ̓ y͙͙̪̰ͫ͌́o͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞ụ̴̴̾̀͟͡.” His voice crackles and glitches on the last words, and the sound of it forces a moan from your throat as you let your head fall back. You clutch your hands to the arms of the chair as his tongue- and who even really knew he had a tongue, what the fuck?- licks down the side of your jaw and at your exposed neck. “I would have had you choking on my cock before getting a taste of that sweet cunt and fucking you into the desk for hours.”

One hand finally slips under the edge of your skirt and you shiver when his fingers make contact with your soaked core. “Is that what you want now, babygirl? You want me to give you my cock as thanks for helping to set me straight? To make up for lost time?” He slides a finger under the thin material of your panties, groaning in your ear at how slick he finds you. “That’s what I want, doll. I want you to ride me so hard you go stupid with the feeling, and you never feel whole without some part of me in your cunt for the rest of for-fucking- ḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧv̹̹̘̼̞̻͆ͩ̓ͪ͢ḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧṛ̣̬̫̍͌ͩ͟.”

“Fuck, please,” you gasp out, the word devolving into a cry as Vox finally slides a finger into you, mindful of the claws as he pushes in and quickly follows the first with a second. He uses his free hand to hold your hips still as you try to grind into his digits, keeps you held firmly against his erection as you squirm in pleasure.

His sharp fingertips angle to prod gently at a spot inside of you that has you seeing stars; your eyes are clenched shut as you ride the feeling, so close to the edge you feel like you’re going to implode with the force of it when you finally tip over. “Fuck, sir, please, so c-close,” you mumble, and his tongue is back to licking at whatever parts of your skin it can reach.

“You wanna come like this, sweetheart?” The main monitor in front of you glitches out, and when it comes back into focus you see yourself on the screen- like a mirror, you’re reflected, and you can see Vox’s grinning face behind you. Your skin is flushed, sweat dripping down your face, the hint of tears along your lashline as your mouth drops open when he adds a third finger. “Look fuckin’ beautiful, baby, you were made for this- maybe we give Valentino a call, he could-”

“No!” You release the arms of the chair to grab onto his wrists where his hands meet your body. “No one- no one but you, sir. Vox, please, l- let me come. Please?” You let a little whine into your voice, and you can see the way his mouth goes lax and his eyes laser-focus on where you’re grabbing at his hands.

“I didn’t mean to join us, dollface, just to record- but you’re right, you’re right.” He pulls his fingers from your pussy, slicing the center of your panties in the process before he brings his digits to his mouth- you watch on the screen as he curls his tongue around each one, licks the flavor of you from his skin and glitches out at the taste. “How could I possibly share such a fucking vision with anyone else?

He shifts you to one side so he can get his dick out, and the sight of it in the monitor, his own arousal beading at the top and rock hard, has you whimpering before it’s even inside of you. He carried himself like a man with a big cock, but Christ.

“Hope you like what you see, hun, cause it’s all yours.” He scoots forward in the seat, tilts his hips forward for the right angle, and moves you back into your previous position with ease- this time, the tip of him is pushing inside you, and you watch in the monitor as you sink inch by glorious inch onto him.

Once you’re fully seated, Vox seems to lose capability for rational thought. “Fuck me, you’re perfect,” he moans, bracing his feet more firmly on the ground to thrust up into you, getting a firm grasp on your hips to pull you down into it. The result is a beautiful stab at that sweet spot inside of you that makes you clench and cry out, watching Vox’s hypnotic eye start spiraling at its normal speed on the screen, and you can see backwards scrolling text of his stream of thoughts- a bunch of nonsensical letters and cuss words interspersed with your name. “I want to fucking- chain you to my desk so I can have this perfect pussy whenever I want it. Fuck, I can’t believe we- we could have been doing this for weeks.” He punctuates his sentence with a hard thrust.

“A-all the more reason to regularly clear your task manager, sir,” you say, so caught up in the feeling of him railing you from below that you can hardly believe you formed a coherent thought. He feels so fucking good and you’re a hair trigger away from collapsing and wringing him for all he’s got.

With one quick movement he’s shifted, and there’s a hand on your throat arching you backwards at the same time that he gets a couple clawed fingers rubbing at your clit. The shock of the combination makes you flutter around his length, a choked noise escaping your throat before he tightens his grip- not enough to really cut off your air supply, but enough that your brain starts going soft and mushy and the vice grip your cunt has on his cock gets impossibly tighter. You can see the shine of your slick arousal coating him every time he pulls out to rut back into you, and the sights and sounds are threatening to rip you into the chasm of ecstasy that you’re flirting with. 

“Vox,” you whine, “please, I’m so fucking- please please please-“ 

“Christ, babygirl, whatever you fucking want.” His eyes are wide and frantic as they watch the place you’re joined, his mouth set in a snarl as he fucks into your pliant body. The cry you release is nothing short of agonized- it’s so fucking close you can taste it, nearly overwhelmed with the tension.

“You wanna fucking cum on my cock? Do it, angel, let me see it- come on, baby, cum for me-“

Your walls clench down hard as you reach your orgasm, Vox’s grip on your throat making your vision and mind go fuzzy with the force of it as you choke on a moan that tries to escape your tensed muscles. You’re distantly aware of Vox thrusting hard into you, more praise and curses falling from his lips as he hits his peak as well, pressing his screen to the side of your face when he relinquishes his handle on your throat to clutch at your hips and grind into your cunt as he spills inside of you. The aftershocks of your release leave you twitching, milking his cock of everything he has to offer before he collapses into the chair behind you, a boneless pile of a man now simply running his hands over any bit of skin he could reach. 

It’s truly a testament to how helpful the reset and reboot had been that Vox’s system doesn’t simply crash. “Fucking Hell, I haven’t felt this good in decades,” he mutters in your ear, and you shiver at the feeling of his tongue brushing the sensitive skin.

“Ha, you think that’s the reboot or the mind-melting orgasms?”

He hums contentedly. “Jury’s out on that, doll. Guess we’ll have to do a re-run on both and see how it stacks up to this one.”

“I’ll make sure to schedule some time out for it,” you chuckle before fixing him with a stern glare through the monitor. “I’m serious about clearing your apps and shit more frequently though. Christ, you had decades of backed up shit open-“

“Don’t berate me while my dick is still inside you, fuck.” He leans you forward far enough to pull out, and you grimace at the feeling of his cum starting to spill back out of you. He notices the expression though- “Whoops, sorry,” he says, and after a quick second during which he tucks his softening prick away he scoops you into his arms, standing from the chair and stepping away from the desk. “Let’s get you cleaned up at the penthouse, angel, what do you say?”

“If you’re carrying me then lead the way.” You gesture towards the door out of the control room. “Just don’t start any timers to see how long it takes to get there or anything and we should be good.”

The glare he fixes you with shouldn’t be hot, but it fucking is. “Hardy har,” he deadpans, and rolls his eyes while he stalks towards the elevator, control room door closing behind you; but there’s a small smile on his screen despite his ire and he’s functioning normally, and when you see the little stopwatch icon pop up in the bottom right corner of his face and start counting, you can’t help but laugh.

#vox x reader #vox smut #hazbin vox #ao3 writer #ao3 fanfic #hazbin hotel #x reader #my stuff <3

[partycatty]

a depressed and drunk johnny cage in his trailer on his birthday and we decide to surprise him. Us being a good bestfriend bake him a cute little cake with happy birthday spelt out in frosting and get permission to go deliver it to him.

what’s he supposed to do when he’s drunk and a cute little thing like us does something so sweet? sure it’s his birthday, but he thinks you deserve a gift and he ends up fucking you in his trailer.

love ya 💙💙💙

ARF ARF BARK BARK GRRR WOOF

johnny cage > happy bithday

you surprise your best friend on his birthday. he returns the favor.

warnings: smut ofc, he's drunk (i knowwww he's a canon recovering alcoholic BEAR WITH MEEE) SUB JOHNNY NATION RISE UP !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i kinda made him beg like a dog icl so hes kinda ooc oops

notes: INTENTIONAL MISSPELT TITLE!!! and this fic kicked my ASS. it took me like a week to get the courage to finish this holy fucking shit.

word count: 2.8k

[ masterlist ]

• you and johnny went far back. you had ties in the filming industry though you weren't on screen yourself. this drew you two together, even before you careers blossomed.

• you worked next door to his production, and you recall johnny expressing to you his annoyance for having to work on his birthday. he sounded... more miserable than usual, and it left a weird pit in your stomach.

• during your break, you ran into a nearby supermarket and purchased all the equipment you'd need: cake mix, frosting, sprinkles, and two numerical candles that spelled out 30. it took blood sweat in tears for you to bake this cake in record time, and decorating may have not been your strong suit but the purple frosting and gold lettering turned out... decent. hey, it's edible nonetheless!

• tip-toeing your way to his trailer, you were sure he had to be inside. you even double checked with his staff, and he was on an extended break while filming. standing at the door, you knock a couple times, and a stuffy, groaning voice responds.

• "m'busy," you know it's johnny's voice but it sounded far sadder than anticipated. hopefully the cake would cheer him up?

• you reply with his name through the crack in the door, and there's some shuffling before the door swings open. you don't even have time to wait or process the situation before johnny tugs you into his trailer by your arm. your face darkens slightly when you notice his flushed face and parted lips. his hair was messy, and the smell of alcohol poured from his mouth. the top few buttons of his dress shirt were undone, giving you a peek of his bare chest. any other situation, you'd be head over heels, but his appearance concerned you.

• "are you drunk?" you ask with a hint of bewilderment, and johnny can only wipe his eyes and nod weakly, giving you a lopsided grin that unfortunately makes you feel weak in the knees. you swore to god to never act on this little crush, since he was a celebrity and all, and you knew better than to put your genuinely good friendship at risk.

• "you made me a cake?" johnny's gentle, almost tearful voice tore away any anger that began to bubble up and replaced it with warmth. you nod and hold it out to him, and the faint candlelight flickers against his skin beautifully. he was so soft when he was drunk at times, and only you got to see this warmer side compared to his typical cocky ways.

• "it's... not my best work," you shrug sheepishly, looking down at the cake. when you look back up, you notice johnny's lashes are wet as they flutter, looking down at the cake with you. he sniffs, and wipes his eyes quickly.

• "you spelled it wrong." his smile doesn't falter but the tears threaten to spill.

• "what?"

• "doll... look," johnny's finger trails the iced words. "you forgot the R."

• oh, shit. you did. the cake reads HAPPY BITHDAY JOHNNY in the most confident gold lettering. the time crunch must've made your proofreading not too accurate. you blush and try to move the cake away from view, sliding it onto his vanity.

• as you were about to sputter useless apologies and try to move on, johnny takes a step closer and fully embraces your body in his large arms, his form completely overtaking yours and trapping you in his grasp. johnny's head buries itself in the crook of your neck as he squeezes tight, nearly knocking the wind out of you.

• on instinct, your arms try to wrap around his body, gripping his shirt tightly. johnny mutters something incoherent, his drunken ramblings a key trait of his state.

• "you're so sweet to me," he mumbles tearfully, peppering kisses along your neck. sure, he was affectionate typically, but he was kissing your neck. he was drunk, but... your heart fluttered.

• "hey, hey..." you rub his back soothingly, hoping maybe you could stop him from attacking your neck in hopes it'll cool your rising heat. "because you're my best friend."

• he whines into your neck, presumably in appreciation of your words. your neck begins to have a faint smell of alcohol.

• "such a sweet girl..." he doesn't stop. his hands wander to your lower back, pulling you in harder. this worries you, deeply.

• "johnny," your voice is warning as they find their place on his broad shoulders. "easy, easy, you're drunk."

• "whassat matter," he bites down into your flesh, making you yelp in shock. "mean so much to me."

• when his hands find their way to your ass, kneading at the flesh, you shove him away with furrowed brows. "you don't want this," you warn him, fighting every single urge to not pounce on him in that moment. "this is... really, really stupid, i mean, it's just a birthday-"

• johnny shuts you up quickly with a kiss, slamming his face against yours so hard you feel the clack of his teeth. his face cups yours, borderline squeezing your cheeks as his lips dance with yours. when he finally pulls away, a string of saliva connects your lips and it sends you weak in the knees.

• "doll," he huffs, wiping his mouth. "birthday or not, i've wanted you for so long." he's breathless and nearly incoherent, like this was his only shot at what he truly wanted. johnny was infamous for admitting shit when drunk, so you knew that this was true for the most part. this was only reinforced when he suddenly dropped to his knees, level with your stomach as he placed fluttering kisses along the front of your shirt.

• "please, i..." he pressed his face into the fabric, fists bunching up around the back. "i'll make you feel real good, if you let me..." his hand snakes under your shirt, rubbing circles in the flesh of your waist as he looks up with pleading eyes. your hand moves downward, raking gently through his hair.

• "you really want this?" you ask gently, toying with his hair. "no going back."

• his lips brush against your stomach as he teeters between kissing the skin and speaking against it. "i want you so bad, doll."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

• all it took was your permission, and johnny was on you in seconds. he backed you into his vanity, sending various items clattering to the ground. he fit so snug between your thighs, settling there to make out with you. perhaps he didn't even notice, but he was gently rutting into you as your lips connected, expelling desperate whimpers down your throat that only fueled your long-time desire. his cock could just barely make out the dip between your folds, but he pressed a little harder and made you gasp when your clit received unexpected attention.

• johnny pulls you in by the waistband of your pants, pressing your bodies impossibly closer as he panted in your ear. "let me taste you," he begged in a low whisper as he hooked his thumbs under the fabric. "i'll be good, i'll be so good."

• jesus, it seemed he wanted to eat you out more than you wanted to be eaten out. you'd never seen this flavor of eagerness in a man and it admittedly took you some strength to not giggle at how johnny fucking cage of all people became a lost, drunken puppy between your legs.

• "go on, pretty boy," you pant as your lips brush. the smell of alcohol brings you back to reality for only a moment.

• johnny decided that words took too much effort and instead dropped to his knees before you, shoulders holding up the weight of your plush thighs as he parted them hungrily to not waste a second more.

• the poor man forgets to even remove your pants before he's pressing his nose onto your heat, eyelashes fluttering as his heart swells with adoration. your scent, your heaving chest, your pretty thighs weighing his shoulders down, it was all too much. his pants feel a size too tight as his boner strains against his slacks.

• you get his brain going by jumping your hips up to get your pants past your ass, letting him pull them down the rest of the way. he throws them far, far away and latches himself again onto your pussy, now only divided by the fabric.

• "you were so eager before," you groan, thrusting forward slightly to put more pressure. "take them off."

• "no," he mutters against your panties, the vibrations making you jolt. "want this to last." his tongue flattens, drawing a long stripe up the fabric. when your panties stick to your pussy, it makes out the shape and he groans at the tease.

• "hold on," he places your thighs back down, trying to calm his breathing and flushed face. "i... i need this first. please." he unbuckles himself and pulls his slacks down to his thighs, giving you a view of his rock solid boner. it honestly looked painful, and you felt pity even if he looked adorable like this. his eyes were downward, fidgeting with his loose belt in shame. he chuckles breathily. "it's so hard, it hurts."

• "that's..." you struggle to find words when your mouth goes dry staring at his thick imprint. "that's alright." your voice was flat, trying to hide your desperation at his need to ask for permission. he didn't need to ask.

• johnny swallows thickly and lets his pants drop, followed by his boxers. his cock was blushed and seeping with precum, twitching once when he looked back up at you. he lets out a small moan, getting far ahead of himself as he positions his hips against yours. he gasps when the contact is made, stuttering his hips ever so slightly. johnny's hands find your thighs again, squeezing down hard to ground himself to not cum immediately. sober and platonic interactions were already far too much for his raging desire for you, so actually getting what he craved was beyond overstimulating.

• you were sick of waiting, so you snake your arms to rest atop his shoulders, hands raking through his undercut. you grip down slightly and he bites his lower lip in response, eyebrows knitting together as his wet eyes burn through yours. you glide your cunt along his throbbing dick and he jolts forward, resting his damp forehead against your shoulder.

• johnny understands you're just as eager as him and begins to thrust into your damp panties, but quickly decides it won't give him what he needs, so he hooks them with his thumb and stretches them aside. his tongue darts out to wet his lips, his eyes are glossed over and all he can fixate on is your pleasure.

• his tip notches between your folds and settles nicely, earning a hiss from the both of you from the warmth. johnny bucks forward eagerly, sliding himself up and down seamlessly due to how soaked you were. your folds hug his cock in just the right way, and you feel yourself already feeling heavenly every time your sensitive clit bumps against his tip.

• "fuck, doll," he hisses into the skin of your neck, placing open mouth kisses. "i want to last, you're - ngh - making it so hard... so hard..." he trails off, groaning when you slip and make his tip kiss the entrance of your cunt, making his knees buckle. "'m gonna cum just from this... god, you're so beautiful, beautiful girl-" his praises become increasingly more high pitched and you can tell by the way he begins to stutter his hips that he's close, unable to last long and it's driving him wild.

• johnny wasn't ever this needy, ever this pathetic. you reduced the cocky a-lister to a near-sobbing mess as he slips across your cunt, finding a momentum difficult from how slippery the entire scene has become. his cock is soaked, dripping down his leg due to your arousal.

• just as your orgasm builds up, as does his, johnny pulls away and lowers himself, gripping the flesh of your ass to pull your hips to his mouth. now thoroughly soaked and clenching around nothing, your cunt is desperate for a release that johnny happily provides, latching onto your clit, and shoving two fingers deep in your hole. he flattens his tongue, shaking his head slightly and flicking your clit relentlessly.

• your orgasm rides up on you rapidly, overwhelmed by the direct pleasure and how filled you were from two of his long fingers alone. wanting to lurch forward as your body trembles, johnny uses his other hand to sit flatly on your stomach, pushing you up against the mirror of the vanity and forcing you to take his lapping and fingering.

• johnny couldn't stand to have your pleasure soak his cock, shockingly. he needed, needed to taste the mess you were making for him or he just might die. you shake, trying to writhe and twitch as your orgasm fights you in waves. loud moans are pulled from your throat with each pulse of pleasure. your arousal soaks johnny's face, effectively soaking his nose and chin as he devours all you have to offer. he matched your moans with high-pitched whimpers, brows knitting together as his eyes clench shut. he was in heaven just as much as you were.

• he continues to lap at you until you force him away by his hair, his mouth becoming borderline painful as he eats you out through your orgasm. you giggle, as it slightly tickles. johnny looks... well, still drunk, but now a new kind. pussydrunk? lovedrunk? either way, the glossy look on his face suits him.

• as your chest heaves, attempting to recollect yourself, everything about the situation comes back to reality. you just grinded against your best friend. your best friend made you cum from his mouth.

• "what's that look?" johnny asks, wiping his mouth with his forearm. his eyes are glittering with delight.

• "nothing," you shrug, his grin contagious. "you did good, johnny."

• "yeah?" he seems proud of himself, glancing downward for a moment. he squeezes your thighs lovingly, placing a gentle kiss on them before finally standing up.

• "yeah." just as you respond, you look down to his cock, wondering if maybe he'd need some help getting there, too. it seemed only fair, that is, until you notice it's semi-hard and soaked. you sit up and lean forward, looking past your legs and onto his trailer floor. cum is splattered onto the flooring, some of it dripping down his thigh. "you came from giving head?"

• "how could i not have?" johnny's sheepish at your observation, but owns up to it quickly as he tucks it back into his slacks. "you're incredible." his face is tinted pink.

• "you're too sweet," you giggle, and johnny helps you down from the vanity as your legs wobble. giving up on finding wherever the hell your pants went, johnny leaves for a moment and returns with a pair of pajama pants, presumably a pair he kept in the trailer for his princess naps.

• "look who's talking... hey, speaking of sweet," johnny laughs, rubbing his hands together. "you and me wash up, and we have some cake, yeah?"

• "i like that plan," as you jump into the pants. johnny visibly tenses up seeing your breasts bounce from the jump, and he can't ignore the way your thighs and ass jiggle. "where did i put it, anyway?"

• you both look around the trailer for a moment, the memory of placing the cake down hazy among the rest of the event. you let out a small gasp, realizing that the cake was on the vanity, the one you got fucked out on... or rather, it was. the cake was splattered on the floor, frosting spread out and depressingly smeared anywhere it could reach. you frown, and johnny hovers behind you as you both look over the mess.

• "that sucks," johnny sighs, but his voice sounds uplifting. "that's alright, i ate something better."

• "don't be gross," you giggle, swatting at his form behind you. "that was perfectly good cake."

• "we can make another," johnny offers. "together. and i'll make sure you spell it right this time." his arms wrap around your middle, pulling you in close and breathing in the scent of your hair. the sweat, perfume and natural smell you carried always drove him wild, but he was now comfortable enough to bury himself in it. you lean into his touch, sighing as the heat from your bodies provides the perfect comfort.

• "happy birthday, johnny," you mumble softly, rocking back and forth in his arms. johnny responds into your hair, his voice breathy and warm.

• "thank you, doll."

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #johnny cage #mk1 #johnny cage x reader #johnny cage smut #mortal kombat smut #marley writes ☆

[writefightandflightclub]

Something to prove: Frankie Morales x fem!reader blurb

Read the warnings.

Summary: you’re wrong. And Frankie wants to prove it.

Genre: steam / implied smut. Teasing / sexual tension. Brat /brat tamer or Dom / sub vibes.

A/n: okay, look. Frankie is cool, calm and collected. Expect when he’s not. And I just love finding the things that flip that switch on his composure and create, specifically, a Frankie of the u n h i n g e d and f e r a l variety. (That was my initial concept and then… this defo grew somewhat darker than I’d intended, so please do read the warnings! I dunno what happened but I guess I went a bit feral too don’t look at me 🙈)

Spoilery Warnings: there are definite dub-con elements here. Frankie is not checking-in thoroughly for consent and there’s one point where his thought-process /actions outright disregards consent (it’s Frankie’s POV). In my head, reader is enthusiastically on-board for everything which happens during the fic and for what is implied off-screen, but that’s definitely not made explicit in the text or even the internal monologue as it usually would be, and Frankie doesn’t know that for sure all the time. Consider yourself warned. As well, some dumbification here, reader called “stupid girl” etc. So… it’s a slightly darker!Frankie than I would usually write or characterise rather than aiming for canon so much! Also, implied threesome (or similar) off-screen, so a smidge of Santiago x reader which I opted not to tag as it isn’t the main focus. Some dub-con from Santi too. Daddy kink warning (once). (Light) Choking. Spitting (once). Dom / Sun, Brat / brat tamer vibes. Fingering. Definite theme in the language of “it’s for your own good / I know what’s best for you” which could be triggering, and could count as coercion. Explicit.

MINORS DNI. 18+ ONLY

Gif by @santigarcia

No, the voice in Frankie’s head blares, the word defeaning - although no sound passes his lips. No. No. No!

You’re wrong.

Even as Santiago smiles smugly. Says “you got that right, sweetie.”

No.

Frankie’s jaw writhes, his hand clawing into his own thigh even as a gentle titter spreads throughout the room, passed amiably from mirth-crinkled eye to slanted mouth.

He’s not angry at you. Not exactly.

When Benny had asked, as the juvenile truth or dare game progressed, who you thought would be best in the sack, you’d had to pick someone.

It’s just that you’re wrong.

It’s him.

In his head it’s him. In his head, no-one else can give it to you the way he’s imagined making you come undone. No-one else could have you unfurling the way he’s plotted so meticulously; late at night, as he’s bucked his straining length into his own fist, wishing it was the warm, enclosing wetness of you.

You’re wrong.

He feels his pulse drum in his throat. Feels his face pinch into something angular and hard.

He rips an abrupt swig of beer from the mouth of his bottle. Abrupt like the way he wants to tear a kiss from your mouth. Sudden and harsh, showing you your mistake.

He’s not angry at you. He’s not.

He’s angry at himself; for not showing you; that you’re wrong.

He stands. “Excuse me,” he mutters gruffly, pacing to the kitchen. Opening the fridge to give some passing pretence to his exit. His broad shoulders curl in towards the cold, seeking to calm his suddenly heat-pricked skin. His shirt pulls taut over the writhing muscles in his back.

You find him like this a moment later when you enter, your sweet voice preceding the sight of you. And fuck. The contrast of your softness to the way he’s growing rigid in his jeans has his eyes fluttering closed, lashes fanning to his cheek. Has the circle of his plush lips dropping open as a pulse of need zips along his aching shaft.

No. No. No.

You’re so wrong.

And, for some reason, the thought of correcting your mistake, by setting the record straight himself? It has him coming undone.

“The boys are so easy to please, huh?” you breeze, apparently completely unaware of his predicament. Of the blood rushing in his ears so hard he can barely even hear your voice. Unless… did he imagine that teasing, provocative edge in your tone?

Maybe.

Maybe not.

Frankie is fixed in place now. Rigid and imposing. Breaths mildly ragged; frayed at the edges. He hears you hop your ass up onto the counter with a breathy little - and seemingly deliberate - mmhmph. Knows that’s where you’re at, because that’s where you usually sit. That’s your spot when Santiago is cooking, all of the squad gathered around the kitchen island. That’s when Frankie usually leans his long frame against the wall right by you. Drinks in the way your thighs swell - full and soft- as they press into the counter. Imagines slipping his broad hands on to your knees. Sliding the flat of his palms up to part your warm, supple thighs. Slipping his fingers beneath the hem of your tantalising dress until they can spear your heat.

“Santiago’s” -Frankie juts his chin and curls his lip as you say his name- “so fucking needy.”

The word needy falling from your lips does something to him. Sends a throb of heat and dull ache to his length.

You have no idea how needy he is.

How needy he has been for you.

So… No.

Not Santiago’s name in your mouth instead of his. Not fantasies of Santiago fucking you bleeding into your dreams, keeping you up at night, making you slick between your legs.

You’re wrong.

In his head you’re wrong. In his head he’s had you coming apart on his cock a thousand different times. A thousand different ways. He never leaves you anything less than sated, breathless, boneless. He’s good for you. He’s the best. He’s what you need.

You’re wrong.

A low grunt rises in his throat.

Then, finally, with effort, Frankie delicately snaps the fridge closed. Turns towards you, his usually soft gaze intense and hard. Tongue curling around his plush upper lip. It makes the tentative smile you offer drop from your face.

Frankie watches your eyes skim down his taut, long body. Imagines that he sees your pupils blowing-out. A swallow sinking in your neck as he approach you like this. Harsh. Dominant. Maybe how he should have been with you all along. Maybe you would’ve liked that better.

At least, if he had, that way you’d already know.

His pulse beats a drum in his chest. Fuck. Those thighs of yours make his arousal swell painfully in his jeans.

“You believe it?” he grits, abrupt and forceful. Something dark in him activating. Something he isn’t proud of. Something that feels primal. Hungry, after so long caged away.

Your eyes widen like prey. “Believe what?”

Frankie looks at your mouth. You don’t even know. Don’t even know what’s good for you, do you? That he’s good for you. He’s going to show you. “Don’t play dumb. You know ‘what’.”

He crosses to you. Slots his hips between your thighs. Stands over you, muscles taut and rigid. Primed; yet contained. Reaches his thumb and forefinger out to grip and lift the point of your chin; deceptively soft.

Your mouth falls open. There is a sharp intake of breath, as though his touch is electricity on your skin. You writhe yourself into the counter. Arch your chest towards him, even as your eyes widen with slight apprehension. He’s never spoken to you like that before. Has only ever been soft with you. And look where that’s gotten him. Not buried balls-deep into your cunt, that’s for sure. “F-Frankie… I…”

No. No excuses.

“He was the obvious answer.”

No.

“I had to say someone.”

No.

“I couldn’t say… I c-couldn’t say you, could I?”

“Why not?” He shoves the pad of his thumb past your lips and into your mouth before you can even answer, sliding it over your tongue. Doesn’t even care in that moment if you want it. He wants it. Needs it. But he loves how instantly you pucker your lips to suck. Loves that the hot, wet glide of your tongue obediently greets him.

An awed smile drags over his mouth as you hum around him, already becoming putty. He imagines the wet spot he could make you leave on the counter, your slit all shined for him.

“Stupid girl,” he purrs, tone dripping with condescension, his voice honey over gravel. You moan as he withdraws from your mouth. Shifts his hands to clamp down on your thighs, snaking up. “I could give it to you so much better.”

You bat your eyes at him. Toying with him, like you always do - he sees it now. “H-How am I supposed to know that? I’ve…” you bite down on your pillowy lower lip. Looks like a nice place to rest his cock while he shoves into your warm throat, he thinks. “I’ve never fucked either of you.”

Still. You should already know. You should know it’s him.

You should know you’re wrong.

Frankie’s nostrils flare. He drags the pad of his thumb along the seam of his lips. Contains the anger pulsing in him. Has half a mind to unzip his pants right here. To shove you down on the floor and to fill up that pretty mouth of yours right here. Wants to.

“But you want it, don’t you, kitten?” He’s almost certain now. Certain that he hasn’t been imagining it, all these months. The teasing. The glances. The comments. These silly little outfits you wear around him. You’ve been trying to drive him to distraction, haven’t you? Playing him and Santiago off of one another. Riling them both up. Waiting for one of them - or maybe even both of them - to snap.

He drags you to him then, abrupt, your hands flying out to steady yourself against the counter. Your heat coming to rest over the clothed, straining mass of him as he bucks his hips up, grinding up against you. You yelp and it’s a pretty, pathetic little sound. “Don’t you?” he bites off, impatient for an answer now.

You want that. You want him to take it, don’t you?

All you can respond with is a loose, breathy affirmative as Frankie clamps his hand around your jaw and throat. He feels your heartbeat fluttering in your neck. It feels - to him - like want thrumming beneath your skin. Raw and red.

He dips his mouth towards the shell of your ear next, the scent of your perfume sending him into even more of a frenzy. “Did anyone ever tell you you should be careful what you wish for?”

He grips you harder, and your eyes flash with momentary apprehension as his grip closes over your throat. In the next moment however, your gaze is muddied by a glassy, blooming contentedness. A rising hunger. He jostles your head and you move with it, already pliant for him. It’s almost as though this is what you’ve been waiting for. Baiting him to snap. Baiting him to show you what he’s capable of.

Stupid girl.

How have you managed without him all this time? You need him. Need him just like he needs you. Need him to show you.

“Open your mouth.”

“What?”

“Open it.”

You oblige, showing him your pretty pink tongue, and a groan unspools from his chest at how pretty you look like this. Then, without warning, Frankie spits into your mouth.

You jump slightly from the suddenness of it, though once you realise what’s happened, you appear to relish it. Swallow it down and look at him with an altogether wolfish grin.

“Mmm. Thank you, Daddy.”

Such a fucking tease. His cock is so hard in his pants now, his arousal throbbing against the thick, constricting seam. In need of release. In need of that little wet cunt of yours, like he’s imagined a thousand times.

Well, thanks to your little games, he’s done imagining.

“Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

Frankie grabs your hand. Tugs you down from the counter and back through the house.

“We’re leaving,” he announces to the remaining squad, paying their confused and concerned enquiries little mind. Then, he directs his next words only to Santiago. “You are too.”

The other man blinks in confusion. “Whu-“

When he responds, Frankie’s tone and his demeanour leave zero room for argument - he makes sure of it, the sounds carved sharp on the knife edge of his clenched teeth. “-Now.”

Santiago obliges rightaway. “Uh huh.”

“Hey. Big fella. What are we doing?” he asks as Frankie leads you hurriedly towards his truck, stalking down the gravel drive.

“Her.”

Frankie glances at Santiago in time to catch his thick eyebrows raise in surprise; but to his credit he only skips one pace before falling right back in step with him. “Oh. We are, huh?” Santiago looks to you. He looks hungry too. “Did you know about this, Princess?”

Frankie answers for you. “She knows exactly what she’s doing. And now, thanks to her, I’ve got something to prove.”

“Oh oh, Princesa,” Santiago purrs, a smug smirk claiming his mouth.

“Oh oh?” you ask with trepidation, as Frankie bundles you into the passenger seat of the car, clipping your seatbelt for you like you can’t do it for yourself. His eyes are consumed with fire as they meet yours, his tongue darting out along his lips. God, he could have you right here. Certainly doesn’t relish the waiting.

“Yeah,” Santiago breezes, slotting into the back. Frankie exchanges a dark, conspiratorial glance with Santiago in the wing mirror, before watching his buddy lean around the shoulder of your seat. “Honey. You’ve got no idea what you’re in for, do you?”

You’re wrong.

You’re so wrong. And Frankie’s gonna show you. Over and over.

“Get her ready, would you?” Frankie pipes up, not even dragging his eyes away from the road for a second. Even so, he hears you gasp and then moan in pleasure as Santiago’s nimble fingers peel the hem of your dress away from your thighs.

“It’s for your own good, Princess. You’re gonna need it,” Santiago explains as his fingers travel, finding the wet spot between your legs. “Frankie’s big.”

“Hmm. Sure. I’ve heard that before,” you punch out, in between abortive moans of pleasure as Santiago’s fingers work their way inside you.

“Oh, it’s not a brag, honey,” Santiago snickers. Frankie joins him in laughter, like the two of them share a joke that you’re just not in on. He slides his mouth up your throat. “Trust me. It’s a kindness.”

Frankie smiles. Clamps his hands down tighter on the wheel. Can’t wait to get you home.

You’re wrong.

You’re so wrong. And he’s going to show you.

You shouldn’t push someone with a dark side if you can’t handle the consequences, he thinks.

He risks a glance as you throw your head back, mouth dropping open in a silent moan of pleasure.

You’re wrong; but he’s going to have a lot of fun proving it.

#Frankie morales x reader #Pedro pascal #triple frontier

[guzhufuren]

love love LOVE your The Sign gifsets. im still a newbie in giffing lmao and your gifs are like reaaally pretty so i was wondering how you do your gifs? i really like how it's sharp and the colors pop up beautifully (only if you don't mind sharing ofcc <333)

bun this is the kindest thing you could have said to me, thank you so much <3 i wanted to write down my giffing process for a while in case anyone would find anything in it helpful, so thanks for giving me a push!

guzhu-furen's photoshop gifmaking process (kinda oriented on saving up time)

from

to

1. Downloading a video. i prefer to download video files instead of making screen recordings because the latter usually leaves watermarks/captions and makes image quality lower. i will not be linking the downloading websites themselves directly, but they are all easy to find through search engines if you know what to search for! i download ql dramas from:

youtube:

if the video you need is above 1080p quality, search for youtube4kdownloader

if the video is age restricted, search for 9xbuddy

both these websites work for normal videos too!

mkvdrama usually has 1080p episodes of most asian dramas.

dramacool also has downloading options in case the show is not available on other websites!

2. Screencapping (i learned it through this tutorial)

i screencap using KMPlayer. here is the installer i used, but you can find versions of this program on various websites and torrents too! install the program and proceed.

screencapping steps: open KMPlayer > press "CTRL + G" to summon the Frame Extraction window > set identical settings to these:

note which computer folder the screencaps will go to (it has a label "Extract to") > go to that folder on your computer and create a bunch of numbered folders there, for example ten folders named from 1 to 10, these would be our separate folders for ten gifs > write "1" or a name of another numbered folder after the backslash in "Extract to" bar in kmplayer > go the timestamp that will be the beginning of your gif in KMPlayer > press "Start" in the Frame Extraction window and press play on the video > when the moment you need to gif is over, press pause on the video and press "Stop" in the Frame Extraction window. great, you now have your folder of screencaps!

3. Importing screencaps to Photoshop

i use Adobe Photoshop 2023, but had used Adobe Photoshop CS5 for a long time before that, so you can use any version you have or find! it's available on various websites and torrents.

open Photoshop > Scripts > Load Files into Stack > press Browse in the "Load Layers" window that was opened

open your screencaps folder (and pin the KMPlayer Capture folder for faster future access) > pick the screencaps you want for your gif by clicking on the first one, and then clicking on the finishing one while pressing Shift on the keyboard > click OK and let them load for some time! i have 65 screencaps loading at the moment

when the screencaps finish loading go to Window > press Timeline > press Create Video Timeline in the opened sidebar > press three dots that will say "Convert to frame animation"

4. Sizing & making the base of a gif

next part will be automatic. i use actions for almost everything from this moment. download the basic action pack here and my additional action pack that we will need here. load them in your photoshop actions window (Actions > Load Actions).

play the Script action to create frames.

now onto sizing your gif. these are tumblr's width dimensions for 3 types of gifs

my gifs are usually 540 px in width and 640, 400 or 345 px in height. i added a 400 px action (Sizing 400) in the action pack, you can use it! or you can follow the steps by hand:

Image > Image Size > put in the height you want and add 4-6 pixels there (mine will be 406 for a 400 px high gif) > OK

now we need to crop the gif for it to fit tumblr's dimensions:

Image > Canvas Size > change Width to 540 (or 268 or 177) and take away the 4-6 pixels that we left in the previous step in Height

when you figure out which gif dimensions work best for you, record an action and use it to save up time!

after sizing use the action Smart Object. now we have the base of our gif!

you can move your gif left or right if you want! i will be doing this because i would like to show more hips in the gif.

press Ctrl + T > move the layer however you need (not in height though) > press Enter to save

i moved it to the right and my gif looks like this now:

5. Sharpening (i use Tan's sharpening settings explained here)

i added two sharpening actions in the pack, they are called Sharpen Spicy and Sharpen Spicy 12. you can use one of them or you can sharpen your gif by hand, i will explain how to do it below.

Filter > Sharpen > Smart Sharpen > 500% amount, 0,2 px radius > OK

Filter > Sharpen > Smart Sharpen > 17% amount, 10,0 px radius > OK (you can change 17% to lesser or bigger, depending how intense you want your sharpening to look. i use 17% for 4k footage and 12% for 1080 px or less videos)

to smooth the sharpening a bit i use Gaussian Blur (this is optional, you can leave the sharpening as it is if you want your gif to be sharper).

Filter > Blur > Gaussian Blur > Radius 1,0 pixels > OK

now change blending intensity to let only a bit of the blurring effect stay (you need to change this by hand if you used the sharpening action also).

press Blending Options (the highlighted place) twice > change Opacity to 10%

this is what my gifs looks like with sharpening now!

6. Colouring (i learned how to colour the way i do through this tutorial)

to make it easier for you to learn i will share my blank colouring file. i created it to save as much time while giffing as possible, so whenever i need to colour a gif i simply duplicate all the blank adjustment layers to the base of my every gif and start colouring! once you figure out which adjustment layers work for you best, i recommend creating a blank colouring file too to save time.

if you want to go the easy way, open my colouring file and duplicate selected layers to your gif file by Layer > Duplicate Layer > insert gif's document name

if you want to learn by hand, create the adjustment layers that i will be naming in the process on your own, you can find them all in Layer > New Adjustment Layer

now we will use adjustment layers for our colouring from the bottom to the top! first, Exposure layer to add a bit of light to the gif. i don't always use Exposure because sometimes shots are bright enough on their own. i will, however, use it here. don't use it on your gif too much, because in the next few steps we will also be brightening the gif with other adjustment layers. i added +0,49:

next, Hue/Saturation layer. i use it in gifs with neon lighting to color correct overly bright colours. for example if your characters are standing in neon pink, you might want to lessen Saturation in Magentas and Reds to make the final gif less pixelated, and etc. i will not use Hue/Saturation on this gif, cause it doesn't need it.

proceed to the layer Levels. this layer usually does most of my colouring. click on the lowest white dropper in your Levels window:

now choose a light place on your gif and click on it with the white dropper. it works especially well if you use the white dropper on the lightened parts of face skin. you can play around by choosing different bright spots and seeing what works best. here is the spot i chose and the resulting colouring:

this is too light, so now we need to balance it out with the black dropper:

choose one of the darkest places this time and click it with black dropper! once again, you can play around and click different spot to see what works best. i will be clicking the highlighted spot and you can see what my gif will look like with this Levels settings

as you can see, darkest places became darker and other colours were corrected a bit! now, this is still too bright, so i will be decreasing the opacity of Levels layer from 100% to a smaller number:

i will have to continue in another post because tumblr only allows 30 pictures per one post in the new editor now and i'd like to explain everything in visuals. click to continue

#asks #mine #mygifs #photoshop #gif tutorial #userjap #userspicy #ondreamytracks

[wildbluesorbit]

London: Holiday Prelude || JTK

18+MDNI

Paring: Jakexreader(f)

LONDON SERIES MATERPOST

A/N: Howdy! Here to interrupt your regularly scheduled programming with twist on the London menu: A TIME JUMP! This is how I envision the first meeting between Jake and the reader unraveled. This one is very fluff (which is a bit off brand for this series) and is my gift to all readers who have remained loyal amongst the endless angst. I'm aware, holiday editions are normally posted before the holidays, but I have chronically delayed holiday spirit that doesn’t spark until about a week before Christmas which is when I started this. My holidays got a bit more hectic than I expected so I didn’t finish till just now, but I figured I’d pos. Also, know that my particular style of writing is shaped by an editing process of which requires time I did not have, so baby this is ROUGH. Anyways, I am very open to criticism so pretty please let me know what you think.

Summary || Before the storm, there was a calm. Your first interaction with Jake is less than ideal, but you give him a redeeming chance only to spark something more.

Content Warnings || holiday [stress], workload stress, slight verbal aggression, holiday party setting, depictions of affectionate displays

Word Count || 6.6k

– December 24th, London, UK –

Your arduous typing is disrupted by the groan of your office door as it’s hesitantly eased open. You rigorously resume your work, not even averting your eyes to make note of who has disturbed you. You already know it's your colleague. You know they have trouble for you. And you know it's a problem you don’t currently have the attention span nor time for. 

Eyes still pinned to the numbers on your computer screen, you address the damsel in distress dawdling in the doorway behind you, “Is it urgent? I’m on a deadline.”

“Um- There’s a customer out here who I have tried my best to help with the knowledge I have,” she remorsefully squeaks.

You mellow your tone as you can hear desperation shrouding her every word, “Tell them I’m unavailable.” 

“I did- He insisted he speak to some form of management,” she huffs exasperatedly.

You come to a stopping point in your numbers game and begrudgingly pry your hands from your keyboard. You spring from your chair and propel yourself through the doorway, already eager to crawl back to the stillness of your office. Your footsteps echo against the hallway of dark offices and storage rooms in a unison stride to your coworker a pace behind you; two valiant knights on their quest to the front of the store. 

Preparing yourself for battle, you dig for your finest customer service armor as it's buried beneath all the enervating adversities and blows of running the shop; a duty you normally carry so effortlessly and gracefully, but this year you had been the only manager who volunteered to work the holiday week. Your workload alone is enough to spook the average person, but the extra weight you foolishly decided to take on this year is a different beast. You have half a heart to gift yourself hair dye this Christmas as you’re already convinced the New Year would find you prematurely gray. 

“Alright, let’s see the prick who is harassing my-,” your finishing thought never arrives as you swing the door open to reveal the store.

Any and all resentment is momentarily tamed by the endless sight of musical paraphernalia. Every last inch of the walls are shrine to the greats; posters, pins, buttons, stickers, clothing, books, CDs, tapes, cassettes, and of course aisles and aisles of record vinyl LPs; all seem to celebrate your great escape from the confinement of your office. 

Your eyes adjust to the warm lighting that coats everything and everyone bustling about isles, faces beaming with joy as they discover new treasures to call their own; treasures you ordered and stocked the shelves with yourself. 

You take a deep inhale of the healing sight in front of you. You never tire of walking through this door after a long day; a portal to your favorite realm. Your spirit beams as you recognize the classic rock sonic of The Dire Straits pouring through the speakers at way too loud a volume. You find it almost impossible to be upset within these walls. Almost.

Though you want nothing more than to idly wander around the store, you redirect your focus to the task at hand; eyes scouring the floor for the customer that so desperately needs your attention. Within an instant, you undoubtedly deem a man within your gaze responsible for your unnecessary ordeals; no guidance from your coworker is required to know exactly who summoned you from your hideaway. 

He is an ornate scene; one that confiscates and pleases your attention all at once. He stands, bare chest proud and puffed, fingers fidgeting with the facial hair that roofs his protruding pout as he devoutly scans through titles of the nearby books. His narrow shoulders are cloaked by long chestnut waves that frame delicate facial features and a prominent nose. He’s rather small in stature, yet strong in physique. 

The pretty man is bewitching in the way he seems to have just hopped out of some antecedent reality; a walking, talking antique. Doused in all black, he wears a blazer and waistcoat with nothing underneath to properly clothe his tan skin except chunky chains weighed down by a ridiculous amount of pendants; all silver to match his oversized hoop earrings, reflectively gleaming as he saunters through trespassing sunlight. His torso is paired with black pleated trousers and seasoned black boots. This man looks as if he woke up and couldn’t decide whether he wanted to be a pirate or a rockstar. 

“You know, Halloween was almost two months ago,” you heedlessly blurt as soon as his golden brown eyes collect yours.

“Real original,” the customer retorts with a smirk and a slight shake of his head, “definitely never heard that one before.”  

His American accent nearly startles you; his features certainly tell an origin story of Central Europe, yet his phrasing is not harsh enough to miss the hint of something not quite American in his raspy tone.

You quickly steer away from your cheeky dig and towards a more professional rapport.

“What can I help you with today Mr.?”

“Jacob Kiszka,” he extends his hand to shake yours, “but you can call me Jake.”

The Jake Kiszka. You have definitely heard his name before. A guitarist whose discography is infamously compared to and even deemed gross appropriation of classic rock legends; and whose romantic track record has an even worse stench. 

You prematurely take the sincere offer of his hand before weakly falling back to your satirical ways, “Wow, lucky me- I’ve only heard stories of The Illustrious Jake Kiszka.”

He is not oblivious to your sarcasm but decides to take the cocky route anyway, “Oh- A fan, huh? Glad to know my reputation precedes me.”

“I never said they were good stories,” your hand repels from the guitarist’s calloused grasp and attaches to your hip, “but what brings you to my store?”

“This is the only place in town not playing Christmas music,” his eyes flit around the store trying to commit every last detail to memory as if his knowledge might be tested later and questions you with an intimacy he hasn’t yet earned, “So this is your kingdom, huh?”

“I don’t own it, just run it, but yes- this place is my baby and I’m its sales manager,” you briefly answer out of the scarce supply of decorum you currently possess and efficiently reroute to the reason for his visit, “but I doubt you came all this way just to escape the holiday spirit.” 

“Well, I am currently in town and in dire need of a last-minute Christmas gift, and you came highly recommended as far as rare LP sets go,” his features stretch into a ponderous tightlipped smile. 

The musician either isn’t receiving your assertion of pace or blatantly holds no regard for it as he digresses once again.

You aren’t certain whether his narrative is spoken to you, himself, or some unseen force, “But this really is some marvelous little store you run here. I have to admit I'm a bit envious. Somedays, I swear I would trade it all in for a simple quiet life like this.”

Simple? Quiet? Who the hell does this man think he is to come in the day before Christmas and casually spend your time and patience, only to then reduce your entire world to simple and quiet?!

Your fists discreetly curl behind the secrecy of your back as you scrupulously monitor your highly explosive tone, “Thank you kindly, Mr. Kiszka, but maybe we can hurry this along. I have lots of work in my simple quiet life to return to.”

Instantly, his entire physique cowers to a posture of mortification and regret. If your composure hadn’t already been so far spent, you might have even felt a strand of empathy or reprieve for him.

His face takes on a shameful shade of pink as fragments of an apology trip over one another, “No- No- That’s definitely not what I meant- Of course, the work you do here is very important. The responsibility of granting access-”

You wave him off, bestowing him clemency in hopes of ending this interaction as fast as possible, “It’s fine, but I really do have lots of work to return to, so just follow me.”

You hastily string him to the glass cases in the back of the store, a stream of clicking and clacking trails behind you with every heavy-footed step of his boots. His footsteps gradually sound less and less, his pace a relaxed rhythm compared to yours. You impatiently arrive at your destination of high-valued items and turn to see he is only leisurely tracing your path, still gazing about the store as if he is in an art gallery.  

You inhale. You’ve dealt with worse. Today would not be the day you lose your patience with a customer. 

Once he finally rejoins you at the display case, you begin the tour of each LP, explaining its contents, history, value, rarity, and your favorite details about it. Showmanly, you set a scene of necessity for each set as to speed his decision process along by targeting his obvious lack of impulse control. 

You’re about done appraising almost five sets when a lack of opinions, theories, and questions registers from his silence. You transfer your vision to learn your audience had not at all been concentrating on your dissertation, those amber eyes studying you right back; eyes reflecting not a strand of cognizance for your vain words, pronouncing your breath wasted.

Your abrupt eye contact seems to burst his trance, clearly not expecting you to break from your sale. 

“Are you hearing a word I’m saying or-,” you fuss, condemning any remaining attempts at professionalism. 

His features reveal comprehension, your confrontation certainly registers but his ample lips only vacillate in a dumbfounded silence.

You flatly attempt to jumpstart his verbal reflexes, “Mr. Kiszka?”

Pressure-buildup from every imprisoned word rattling around his head with no escape, erupts all at once, “I’m sorry- I’m sorry- I heard you- It's just- When I asked for help today- I didn’t expect someone so-”

A brittle tone emerges before you can even take the time to contemplate what he is trying to articulate, “Young? A woman? A different stigma that probably has nothing to do with my knowledge of music or ability to manage a business?”

“No it's not that- It's just- you-,” he hesitates to catch the breath he forgot to take and decidedly abandons his current thought to expedite his next, as if they might trample over each other if he doesn’t, “This is very inappropriate but I seem to keep putting my foot in my mouth and I would appreciate it if you let me make it up to you over drinks tonight. Also, please call me Jake.”

His unanticipated proposition hitches your breath and widens your eyes, “You’re right, that is very inappropriate.”    

He quickly shrinks yet doesn’t withdraw his offer, “My brothers will be there too if that makes you feel a bit better, but your expertise so far fascinates me, and I would love to discuss more with you.”

Asking you out. After insults. After disrespect. After no regard for your time-poor schedule. He is asking you out.

You take it back. You have not dealt with worse. This is definitely the worst. 

Panic and indignation concoct a bitter climb in pitch, “Unfortunately, Mr. Kiszka, there’s still so much that requires my attention before the year’s end. I’m as busy as someone with a simple and quiet life can possibly be. That leaves no time for idle pints with random guys in pubs. So will you be purchasing anything today?”

“No- of course- you’re right- I’m terribly sorry- I do need to get something,” his attention finally converts to the vinyl with an oncoming frown, “but nothing here stands out to me. I know you certainly don’t owe me any favors but is there any way you can show me anything else? You know- the good stuff?”

Without a moment’s hesitation, you blatantly feed him a white lie, “Excuse me? I have no idea what you’re referring to.”

You know exactly what he’s referring to. However, the thought of sharing another second with this infuriating stranger threatens to ignite fire to your dwindling composure. So, you tuck away all opportunities that would admit him to take any step that isn’t towards the door. 

He drives his agenda one last time, “You know? The treasures that never see the shelf? Surely, you have a secret stash. Every great store has one.”

“I guess we’re just not that great of a store then,” the shit-eating grin that smears across your face wards off any other inquiries he might probe for, “I can assure you this is the best we have. Maybe next time, do all your Christmas shopping before Christmas Eve.”

You are immediately pricked by a pang of guilt. Even you can admit you are being impudently cruel; for which you expect at least a return of assailment. Yet it never arrives. 

Instead, his eyebrows turned upwards just above a sheepish smirk and a diffident man takes the place of the obnoxiously charismatic rockstar once before you. He just might genuinely grieve the score of your transaction. As if he knows something you don’t. As if he knows in some other time or place this narrative was supposed to take a different course and he is now mourning a great failure.

“Okay- well, I can take a hint,” he meekly forfeits, “I apologize for wasting your time. Thank you so much for your help.”

You can’t seem to wrap your fingers around any response, lost somewhere amongst the spate of regret that you might have misjudged him based on presumptions. Your mouth runs dry and you’re only able to blankly stare back at him.

In your silence, he impulsively shoves his hand into his coat pocket and shimmies out some small notebook. He flips through pages and pages of scattered notes and highlights and even some light sketches before he finds the first blank sheet. He materializes a pen from the same pocket that had been sheltering the notebook and quickly scribbles before tearing out the page, folding it in quarters, and gifting it to you. 

You’re not sure why, but you find your hand an open landing for the paper. Unconvincingly, you reassure yourself it's because you know little resistance will only usher him out of your store sooner. 

As soon as he successfully rids himself of the note, you witness a bashful movement emerge upon his face in what you swear is the biggest and prettiest smile you’ve ever seen. You aren’t allotted time to admire or commit it to memory as its life spans less than a second, quickly shrinking till it's gone.

He bids you a rushed, “Take care, Merry Christmas,” before he turns on his heels and rapidly weaves his way through the isles till he disappears past the glass doors without so much as another word or last glance. 

Your eyes gravitate back towards the paper in your hand. You inspect the folded thing before you decide reading its contents would hold no worthwhile benefit and absentmindedly place it in your own pocket. 

— December 26th —

You mentally file through your checklist: The doors are locked, the drawer counted, and the lights turned off. Your colleague took care of the floor prep portion of closing duties before she left; you stayed way too late to finish your end-of-year reports. But you can’t seem to shake the feeling that you are forgetting something.

Your phone! You realize as you pat down your pockets you don’t have your phone. 

You race to your office through the dark void store to see your abandoned device sitting on top of your desk. As you grab your phone, the little forsaken folded paper you forgot you had placed on the work area earns your attention. Whether you set it aside for two days in a veto or for safekeeping is beyond you.

Now having endured your irrationally aggravated haze that always shrouds end-of-year stress, the only thing that remains is a flare of burning curiosity. 

You resist your own inquisitive demands and desert the mysterious note once more to hesitate towards the door, each step becoming more burdensome the further you trudge from your office.

Did you misconstrue him, seduced by mere whispers floating in the wind? Did you indignantly vilify him deceived by your own occupational duress? Despite being verbally clumsy, he was endearingly unconventional, and he clearly carried some remorse for your interaction.

You’re even baffled by the rumination this small piece of paper has conjured. Customers come and go, but you can’t seem to justify why he has become an unwelcome stowaway in your mind.

For the past two days, you’ve been choking on the bitter taste of rueful pining that you can’t seem to wash down. Suffocating under abrasive waves of what might have been if you’d only had patience to spare, till you can no longer deny your craving. 

You find your limbs and retrace the progress you’ve just made. You restively unfold the note to read confirmation of the exact information you imagined was inked into the little white sheet.  

Please, please, call me Jake.  And pretty please reconsider those drinks. [phone]

You are alarmed by the giggle that sounds past your giddy smile, penetrating the silence of an otherwise lifeless building. Your chest is ambushed by an aching weight as your sight darts across the hall to the storage housing the “secret stash” as he put it.

You suddenly have no idea why you’d been so hard on him; just that you’re now certain of your looming resentment. You’re not sure if it’s this reasoning, or the way he looked stunned by you, or even the shape of his giant childish smile you can’t seem to recall, that drives your thumb as you dubiously dial the phone number on the paper. 

Each ring of another number entered descends you further on your fall from professionalism and floods your head with panic. As soon as the dial tone begins to ring against your ear you’re immersed into a fit of denial, convincing yourself his answer is an unlikely outcome; despite this being his phone number and you are, in fact, calling it. 

“Hello,” his vaguely familiar rasp becomes one of undeniable recognition.

Neglecting to even consider what you might say if he did answer, you awkwardly blurt, “Hey, Mr.- Jake-,” it occurs to you that you never properly introduced yourself, “It’s the girl with a simple quiet life.”

You possess no control over your hand as it impulsively smacks against your forehead amid your poor choice of words.

You’re mortified he might have heard your reflex as he giggles through the line, “Hey, pretty girl. I was hoping you might call.”

— December 31st —

You aimlessly pace about the bathroom, your platform loafers suctioning with every sticky step on the tile. You survey the sting of your angry nail plates, red and visible from an anxious nail-biting fit. 

A jiggle of the doorknob and a harsh knock on the door interrupts your examination. 

“Just a minute,” your voice shakes trying to overpower the blaring music.

You possess no concept of how long you’ve been hiding out from the party just beyond the bathroom door. You had been wading through a sea of strangers for almost an hour looking for Jake before you finally became overwhelmed, retreating to a random bedroom and locking yourself inside its bathroom. You’re beginning to question Jake’s attendance at the very party he invited you to.

Another bang at the door.

You squeak in panic, “One second!”

You run your hands against your dress to wipe the sweat from them as you shuffle over to the mirror to perform a last-second evaluation. You straighten the collar of your little black button-down dress and readjust your pantyhose so the hem isn’t visible from your dress’s high-thigh split. You quickly retrieve your wine-red lipstick to featherly dap it over your lips in reapplication and sloppily attempt to recoil any broken curls before you're startled by another thud on the door.

You growl as you stomp over to the entryway, “Who the fuck?! I said hold-”

You swing the door open to gather those wide honey eyes framed by pretty chestnut waves.

The weight lifted from your chest is quickly chased by the embarrassment of your reaction, “Jake?!” 

The both of you, relieved to see the other, spill your words out in unison, “Where have you been? I was looking for you!” 

You aren’t sure whether the uncontrollable giggle you let out is induced by amusement or nerves. Jake only gives you a peculiar smirk while scanning you up and down. 

He slightly tilts his head and tries to interrogate you through a chuckle, “How long have you been hiding in here?”

You’re only able to bat your eyes at him, clueless as to how to save yourself. The way he reads the situation with such accuracy makes you question whether you have the words “socially celibate” written on your forehead; which isn’t true about you at all. You are usually a social butterfly but something about Jake makes you want to gasp for air. 

“I’m not hiding,” you blurt the lie straight through your teeth. 

“It's blatantly obvious you're hiding,” he playfully rolls his eyes and leans against the doorway, listing the factors that clue him in, “this is not the most accessible bathroom. There’s a bit of wandering you have to do in order to end up here.”

You attempt to redirect his heat back on him, “Well, what are you doing in here?”

His brows draw together in confusion, “You mean…in my bedroom?”

If your face wasn’t beaming pink before it certainly is now.

That night on the phone he had apologized profusely. After you reciprocated the remorse, he insisted on making up for the misunderstanding in person and invited you to a New Year’s Eve party. You spent the hours of that night learning bits and pieces about each other over the phone, yet not once did he make you aware it was his party. 

“I mean you invited me, but you failed to mention you own the place,” you shake your head and light-heartedly chide.

There’s a lot of attention that comes with being the host; attention you couldn’t compete with being that you have known Jake for all of five minutes. You have half a mind to make up some excuse to escape now and be done with this. 

Jake’s words soothe your storming thoughts, “I’m just glad you’re here and I found you. It's almost midnight and I was starting to think you flaked.”

From where your abrupt banter appears you’re not certain, just that you’re pleased with its arrival, “Wow, all these guests and those pretty eyes were searching for little old me? I’m flattered.”

“I was only concerned you might be hiding in a bathroom somewhere,” he teases back.

You roll your eyes and exit the bathroom. Only now do your inhibitions hush, admitting you to espy Jake dressed essentially in the same ensemble as your first meeting, the sore difference being the color palette. However, this single change is not one of subtlety, as you discover navy blue is certainly Jake’s color.

Jake instructs you to reenter the party and he’ll come find you in a few before disappearing into his own bathroom. 

You almost scoff out loud. There is no way you are subjecting yourself back to that lion's den alone. You instead idle about his room. 

You presume this bedroom is the master due to its excessive space and height. Two walls of a deep timber green meet one of exposed cobblestone, where the head of the bed is positioned, and another wall that is made completely of bookshelves. Mounted on these walls are frames of various historic maps and sketches and what you assume to be sailing routes. The decor is accented by espresso wooden floors and leather furniture; everything within your line of sight could certainly tell stories of a life dating well before your own. 

You wonder how it hadn’t occurred to you before, this room might belong to him; Jake is almost the room personified in its rustic aesthetic.

You saunter over to the wall of books, extending your reach to them. The pads of your fingers ridge against the embroidered spines of various vintage books as you skim through their titles; from which you determine the wall displays are most likely of a piratical lore. 

As you scale the bookshelf you run into a bar cart. Surely, he won’t miss a sip of liquor as much as you’re in need of one. You grab a cocktail glass from its rack and start with an easy pour of sparkling water. You aren’t sure which liquor to choose as they are all top shelf but land on tequila, mixing in an extra shot to take off the edge. You dress your drink with the squeeze of a lime and drop it in with a plop of ice, the residual juice left on your fingers begins to sting at your bitten fingernails. You take a moment to admire the symphony of each bubble fizzing its way to the top while ice chimes against your glass; the mere song of a tequila soda already easing your nerves. 

As you sip on your elixir and further snoop, you notice there are not many pictures in the room. The few you do find tell the story of four siblings. Although, you struggle to pick Jake out amongst the bunch, having it narrowed down between two in every photo. 

A whisper from somewhere just beyond your shoulder shatters your sleuthing trance, “Nosy little thing, aren’t you?”

Your drink nearly escapes your glass from the jolt his ambush sends through you.

He further teases you, “Ah, now you’re going to spill stolen liquor on my floors too?”

“It’s not stolen if you owe me a drink, sir,” you quip, referring to his offer of your first encounter. 

He playfully reclaims your drink from you while declaring, “Let’s see how good of a cocktail you can mix-,” he takes a swig and speaks through a stifled cough, “whoa, bit stiff there! I suppose you may just be able to keep up with me.”

You are on the verge of investigating the family pictures when his phone rings. He frowns, yet still retrieves the device from his pocket to read the notification. However, his eyes break from their summon within a second, elated to receive yours once again. 

Jake almost pounces on you, giddy to usher you back to the party, “Come on, I want to introduce you to some people!” 

You tail him down the hall to the main part of the house until you reach the outskirts of crowd congestion. He shifts his lead to your side, his arm still extended to precede you, parting the way through traffic. 

Parading through the guests, almost everyone attempts to greet their beloved host, stepping in front of or trying to walk between you. 

You feel Jake’s broad hand lightly rest against the small of your back in an attempt to stay tethered, your skin waking to the sudden warmth and weight of his touch. 

As you travel deeper into the heart of the crowd, it only multiplies in its density. Jake's fingers delicately travel from your back, over your hip, and wrap into your waist. He tugs you into his side, practically walking hip to hip; a measure taken to make certain you remain by his side.

Ordinarily, touch from any stranger is an unbearable concept you desperately flee from, but Jake’s hands are ones you’ve never known. He grabs you like he is certain your skin is his to touch. Simultaneously, it's assertive and amenable and affectionate. It grants status in a house full of strangers. You know you’ll only grieve its absence. Yet, you fear how you already crave more. 

Your buffer’s escort sees you into the kitchen and immediately draws towards a group of three men: two of a tall lean stature and the other petite like Jake. He walks before you and seizes their attention from whatever concentration previously held it.

You shadow Jake, shifting behind him so there is as little space as possible without physically touching him; weary of your new appetite. 

Even inches away from the men’s huddle, you can barely hear over the roar of the overcrowded house and the blaring music; your only indication of Jake speaking is the wave of his hands and the three boys’ responding laughter. 

You lean as an attempt to hear their conversation when someone stumbles past you, knocking you straight into Jake’s backside and sending him into a light stumble. 

Like some bashful toddler hiding from scary stranger danger, you stand straight and peek over Jake’s shoulder to see three wide-eyed men gaping at you. Jake loops his hand around your arm and casts you dead front and center as if you are a surprise gift he’d been concealing behind his back this whole time. 

He lightly rests his hands on your shoulders and leans towards your ear, you gauge he’s close not by sight, but by the warm sensation of his words tickling your skin, “These are my brothers,” then reverts his attention to the other men, “guys, this is who I was telling you about.”

You formally introduce yourself and one by one they do the same: Sam, whom you recognize from the pictures and assume is related to Jake, Danny, whom you’ve never seen before but seems to possess the same familial chemistry, and finally Josh, who you now identify as the other face you couldn’t differentiate from Jake’s in the photos; you know they must be brothers. 

You turn to confirm your suspicions with Jake and find he is no longer behind you. Eyes apprehensively detailing the scene, you scour till you recover him at the bar topping off your drink. You know he means well but the last thing you want is to be stranded.

As if he can access your thought flow, the man who earlier introduced himself as Josh is standing next to you now and gingerly places his fingers on your bicep to reassure you, “Don’t worry, you're in good hands.”

As your insecurity is driven away, curiosity remains, “So, what has Jake told you exactly?”

“Well- really, only that he came into your store and bugged the shit out of you-,” across from you,  a slightly tipsy and loose-lipped Sam is silenced by Josh nudging him, “ow?!”

“He told us that you hold an interesting perspective and a vast knowledge in the world of music,” Josh earns the title of damage control, “in addition to your immunity to his charms.”

When Josh laughs, it is a grand thing, his whole body participating in his colossal giddy smile. You can’t help but receive the glee he is emitting.

Only now does it occur to you, that pretty smile has graced you once before. It's the same one Jake wore for a mere second, of which the imageless memory has been bugging you for a week. Their wide smile seems to exist in exactly the same shape yet live in different lights: Josh’s a bit more generous and Jake’s a bit more significant.

It isn’t until now that you’re able to delineate all the same features about their face, noting now that they aren’t similarities at all but replicas. Only now can you see they’re twins. 

“Stop scaring her,” Jake’s voice rasps from behind you as a fresh drink is placed in your hand. 

“If you haven’t done that already, I’m not sure what will,” Josh collects Jake’s warning with a banter of his own. 

Suddenly, the boys’ are uprooted by a slow bluesy ballad sounding throughout the house; not a conventional party tune but after all it’s not your party. One after another, each brother’s face lights with recognition of a happening and disappears from the kitchen to the heart of the house, dragging along a someone as their chosen company. You witness every bystander in the kitchen mimic the strange migration. You never imagined a change of song could so dramatically alter the behavior of a room. 

Immediately, consciousness of an unknown tenses in your muscles. Your eyes storm Jake for clarification, yet the coy grin that he produces does nothing to soothe your skies. 

“So it's kind of a Kiszka New Year’s Eve party tradition,” his hand finds the back of his neck as if he is trying to thread together bad news, “to have a last dance just before midnight.”

“Oh,” your chest drops at a much less severe diagnosis than you anticipated. 

Jake distances himself a step from you to offer his hand and bashfully beams, “Care to be my final dance in these last fleeting moments of a year’s dying life?”

“I- um- actually,” you panic grasping for any declination, only to find a confession in reach, “I can’t dance. Well, not slowly anyway.”

He feigns shock, “A beautiful girl of your musical knowledge and you don’t know how to dance?!”

Despite the urge to run far and fast the moment Jake calls you beautiful, you charge to your own rescue, “No one ever taught me!”

He raises an interrogative eyebrow, “You promise that’s the only reason?”

You give Jake a confused nod while also averting your eyes in shame, so you aren’t aware when he lunges to snatch your hand from its comfort zone by your side. 

“It’s never too late to learn,” Jake chimes while tugging you from the kitchen.

The unforeseen tow renders you almost tripping over your own feet, docking your sweating glass courage on the nearest counter. 

You’re dragged into a tempest of strangers waltzing about until Jake decides your destination in the eye, a center spectacle accessible for anyone to gawk at. 

Jake plants you in position by steading your shoulders. You pay him no mind as your consciousness is currently employed by the surrounding cloud of people. He lifts your arms by the wrists, resting them around his shoulders before drawing in close to place his hands on your waist. You’re once again consumed by the warm weight of his heavy hands that spell you starving for more. 

“Jake-,” you begin to fret, suddenly feeling like you might burst into tears. 

“Shh- It’s okay- Look- Look, it’s simple,” he consoles you like an eager child. 

Jak motions your sight to follow his to the floor as he steps out with his left foot. Paralyzed by your own nerves, Jake doesn’t give up when you completely miss his cue to mimic his movement. You barely process the light chuckle that leaves him as he retraces his step back to starting stance.

Nimbly, his palm delineates your pelvis as his grip runs from your waist to your hip. Jake then replicates his previous action, this time firmly swatting your right side to follow; the slight impact sends an unsolicited shudder down your spine that you pray goes unnoticed. 

Hesitantly, you pursue his step. Then again with your left. Retrace. Repeat. Again. Then again. And again. Until you are swaying along with the rhythm.

Jake's eyes have since left the floor, amused at the sight of concentration you are. He allows you a moment of beginner’s peace before disturbing your count.

“I think you’ve pretty much got it,” his finger lands under your chin to lift your hanging head back to eye level again, rejoining his honey-brown gaze, “you can look at me now.”

You recognize something perennial in his tired eyes and all at once you’re aware the road to unwind is undoubtedly a long one, but whether it routes through pleasure or pain is beyond your discernment; the only thing of which you're certain, is at this moment he became ineradicably and irrevocably undeniable. 

After a few confident strides, you courageously let your head fall to Jake’s shoulder, only tripping over your instructor’s feet a few times but he doesn’t appear to mind. If you were rhythmically inclined you suppose you might even enjoy slow dancing, swaying about solely to remain blissfully close to your pretty dance partner as the rest of the reality seems to wane from existence. 

You swear hours pass before the melody finally fades out, yet Jake and you take your time to rejoin the rest of the world, lingering in your bubble; a countdown to midnight being the hammer that eventually breaks your glass.

TEN! NINE!

You hastily revert back to your own, excusing yourself from any rejection or inquiry by joining the chant. 

EIGHT! SEVEN!

Rather than dwell, your abrupt modesty strikes Jake endeared. He simply restructures himself, respecting your space, with a regaling smirk as he now jumps into the sequence. 

SIX! FIVE!  

Achingly aware that you’re the one who broke it, you’re assailed by a twinge of loss, fighting the appetite to feel him pressed against you once more. 

FOUR! 

That is until you feel Jake’s slight caress against your wrist. At first, you assume it’s an accident. The remaining life of the current year dwindling provokes the roaring crowd to compact, dancing and hugging, in hopes for a better year. 

THREE!

Yet, Jake’s touch doesn’t retract. His fingers dawdle about your skin, dancing down till he climbs into your palm. 

TWO!

His vast hand is extensively more than you’re able to hold, so his calluses tickle as he swiftly rakes them against your skin to interlock his fingers in yours; the bond devoted and interminable.

ONE!

You expect a confession from Jake as he cranes his head to fall in close to yours, but instead, feel a pink blaze rise to your cheeks as he delicately places his pretty plump pout just before the corner of your mouth; the sensation of his facial hair, prickly against your skin, being one you’d like to know further. 

As he pulls back to revel in your bemusement, you’re finally caught in that beautiful beaming smile for the second time. Your ache to witness the entrancing sight again hadn’t registered until it surfaced long for you to savor this time; your hope for the year to come instantly blossoms from Jake’s smile. 

“Happy New Year,” his blessing is barely audible over the cheers of a new era.

Some unseen and unfamiliar force greater than lust, commandeers your limbs diminishing all conscious control as you impulsively cling onto his lapel and yank him back into your orbit. Recklessly, you devour those pompous pink lips into your own. Jake doesn’t hesitate to consume the small of your back and dip of your waist within the swallowing grip of his palms. His mouth emulates your hunger, letting your kiss flourish and thrive against your lips. You give into your need for an air supply only when you feel the shape of that giant ass smile break the seal of your embrace. Nimbly, you press a small pucker to Jake’s dimples while they exist. 

You remain within the gravity of your shared breaths, giggling your wish against his smile, “Happy New Year, Mr. Kiszka!”

pretty please let me know what you think🫶🏼

taglist❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹- @ageofbajabule @alwaysonthemend @anythingforjtk @becinabubblegvf @dancingcarbon @dannys-dream @dayumclarizzel @do-it-jakey-baby @dont-go-home-without-me @edgingthedarkness @fomopheobe @gretasfallingsky @gretavangirlie @gretavanglimmers @gretavangroupie @gvf23 @gvfmarge @hannahrk @heckingfrick @hsfallingsky @imleavingyoufornewyork @kiszkazz @klarxtr @itsafullmoon @jakesguitarsolo @jakesmustache @jakeysbuttsheeks @lipstickitty @livkiszka @lyndz2names @mindastreamofcolours @mountain-in-springtime @mrbrownstne @nina-23-45 @notjordie-gvf @sacredjake @smoking-jakelane @sparrowofthedawnsworld @styles-canvas @takenbythemadness @dancingcarbon @thewritingbeforesunrise @tommie-gvf @tripthelightfatality @vanfleeter @violet-hayes @wetkleenex-gvf @zoe-tally06

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[spacecolonie]

i adore your paintings so muchhh would you happen to have any other tips or tutorials for your process? anything from thumbnailing all the way to final render

Thank you 😭♥ I appreciate that a lot!! To start with I've got my advice tag (both new and veeery old stuff lol), & my youtube has a couple of speedpaints on it, one with commentary including process, brushes etc

In terms of general stuff about how I approach painting, I tend to tailor the method to the desired outcome. I talk about it more in depth on this post here, I also link to some references & tutorials that I really enjoy/recommend!

Besides that though, I guess I can do a little walkthrough of the Whisper & Tangle painting I uploaded a few months ago, since I tried something new with it that I pseudo integrated into my workflow & could be fun to talk about? 🤔

SO yes, I do always thumbnail when I'm doing a bigger painting, and they're definitely not pretty LOL. I usually use the colour fill lasso just to block in basic shapes and values with a gradient map slapped on the top -- I ended up swapping the values around in the end because it let me use the fireflies as the sole light source, making it more character focused! Then it's the usual process of resketching it all & flatting in the base colours (I also added Whisper's wisps hehe), then adding shading:

This is how I usually approach it, w/ all the shading layers clipped to the original flats to preserve editing. Multiply, screen & overlay are the most common layer modes I use while doing this, and if I'm ever struggling I'll sometimes add a gradient map too in order to unify awkward colours etc. The new thing I tried for this painting was doing what's often nicknamed as a 'clown pass' -- which is using hard edged shapes to create an easily-accessible selection mask for each part:

It looks Super funny but I actually found it very helpful, and I ended up using it to select & cut out all of their body parts onto seperate layers, which were then alpha locked. It meant I could go ham w/ large or textured brushes, smudges etc without worrying about losing those edges, or accidentally over-rendering and screwing up the anatomy in the process!!

I've kept doing something similar since, though it's a bit more dialed back; mainly using the lasso select to chop it up directly and preserve specific/necessary edges, grouping up similar body parts on a single layer etc.

After doing all that, I sat down and started rendering. The background was all blocked in & detailed with a hard round brush and these amazing brushes from Devin Elle Kurtz. There isn't anything super insightful that I think I could type on how I render, but I do have that speedpaint I mentioned earlier that'll probably shed more light. It's just a lot of eyedropping & painting, rinse and repeat

When rendering is done I usually add a concoction of adjustment layers, as well as an overlay w/ a noise texture on it. I also sharpen it all after doing so! These are the ones that I ended up adding for this painting:

The dupe & blur is a fun thing that doesn't always work, but it looks super neat when the painting itself calls for it, especially when paired w/ that noise texture. It can make stuff look like an old/low quality photograph or recording -- here's another example w/ a shadow and amy doodle I posted a few months ago:

That's about it for this painting, the majority of the time spent on it was honestly me rendering those damn leaves 🥲 Very tedious but worth it & it was a really good learning experience. I'm not sure if any of this will prove useful but thank you so much for sending in the ask, & if you (or anyone else reading this) wants a similar breakdown for a different painting of mine, please do let me know and I'll try my best to do one!! 🥺💞

#tutorial #kinda. i'm counting this as one... i should really start a new tag for these sorts of posts because theyre super fun #art breakdown #maybe?? #either way thank you so much ♥

[rreskk]

NEW MEDIA

A late valentines gift for my girlfriend (I love you ;D). Also inspired by @miranita's latest trikey art from her twitter!! Check her out, talented as Hell! :)))

Summary: The boys decided to try and record their private time together. TW: Smut Pairings: Michael De Santa/ Trevor Philips Word count: 1638

“Are you recording?”

Michael grunted when two hands praised his hardened cock.  The other man – preoccupied with lust – sprawled out below him, looking directly into the camera, kneeling on bed with sweat drizzling down his sideburns and scrawny skin.

“Yeah.” Michael whispered back, zooming in with his fingers on the screen. Trevor took this as a signal and started to stroke his boyfriend’s beasty cock that he knows all too well.

The camera flash was on as the full sight was in motion. It captured the way his cock was being warmed and licked around by that nasty tongue of his boyfriend – experiencing hardcore desperation before the recording even started – that he paced around the tip like a desperate dog, panting and panting and panting and whinging.

“You like that, Trev?” Michael took notice, “You love my cock, don’t you, baby?”

Trevor would’ve replied but he was too infatuated by the cock sitting down his hungry throat. He sucked and ignored how much he needed to gag at the thickness of Mikey’s size. It was his favourite part about it, the way it could easily rip him apart in the most dirtiest manner, wanting to feel it bruise him from the inside.

And it excited him more when feeling the flash startle upon his flustered face. Trevor glanced up and made low noises, eyes staring into the lenses, aroused by the idea of being watched; whoever would watch this, probably perverts and whatnot freaks. But he know someone would.

“Oh, yeah…” The voice murmured from the background as Trevor grew more active, his head rocking up and down. Michael grasped onto the collar of his boyfriend’s grey vest, his hand becoming pulsed and deeply veiny from the rough lighting of Trevor’s bedroom. The fingers clenched hard. His knuckles turned white and pressed against Trevor’s chest harshly, encouraging the man to abuse himself on the cock in his mouth.

“Argh – “ Mikey heard him moan.

Before he could have too much fun, he pulled out of Trevor’s mouth and ignored the pathetic cries of his name. The camera captured the saliva on his cock that drooled from the tip to his dark pubes, causing this overstimulation where Michael knew he couldn’t wait any longer. He grunted, moving his boyfriend onto his back dominatingly, removing the vest in the process. By removing, he snatched it instead; with distress and want.

“Fuck me, Mikey.” Trevor whined as his clothes were vanished aggressively. The fabric ripped from his chest and so exposed his complete nakedness, at mercy of Michael who recorded every step so the potential viewers could watch this tough criminal become submissive as a whore.

“Wait for it,” Michael ordered, “Stay on your back. Spread your legs.”

Trevor groaned and arched his spine while positioning his backside to lean upwards, his legs squatted and inviting. His face was snarled but his eyes glistened with mischief and humour. That jester-like man caressed his displayed stomach and waited for further instructions or signals.

Then the camera flash blinded him again and he knew it was coming. Trevor breathed heavily and loudly, small sighs departing from his scarred lips, his whorish mouth feeling empty without Michael’s cock shutting him up. He loved being fucked to the point of numbness. It brought him back fond memories from the younger days – thinking about younger Michael – just how simple yet intense things were. There was a shared spark, and they were trying to bring it back.

“That’s right…” Mikey held the camera and lined himself up. The flash startled his erection which twitched and sat outside Trevor’s anus, the tip rubbing across just to make him squirm.

“Fuck, sugar… C’mon. I’m so ready for you. You want me so bad.” Returned Trevor who tried to grind at every passing opportunity. However, when he tried to insert pleasure, a sharp moan escaped his throat suddenly when Michael slapped his ass, spanking out of discipline for acting up too soon. Like a dog, he was treated… Like a damn dog.

“Stop acting like a brat or you won’t get it.”

“Ohhh…” Trevor sucked in his lips and turned, shoving his face into the duvet sheets to avoid having his pleasure taken from him. All he wanted was a good fuck from Michael. He craved it for too long.

“Good, good,” Michael whispered, pushing in, pushing out; getting comfortable and easy with the sensation, small mewls exiting his throat, “Oh… Fuck, shit. Fuckin’ A…”

It would piece together like a puzzle. As soon as he thrusted into Trevor, they both grunted at the cause. His massive cock forced its way into Trevor’s tight anus but he loved the challenge and pain. He grabbed onto the duvet and cried, even when the fabric suffocated his noises. The camera would stare as he reacted so violently pleased with the physical beating.

Mikey chewed his tongue and grabbed onto Trevor’s hips with one hand, the other zooming the camera close to the younger man’s face. He enjoyed humiliating his fuck-buddy since everyone sees him so intimidating and dangerous. Michael wondered their reactions to seeing Trevor acting like a wrecked puppy. He wondered how good it would feel to degrade Trevor into craving his cock with every second of his life, needing to see his face drenched with tears and cum, voice breaking with begs and worships.

“Yes, yes, yes! I know you have it in you, sugar – fucking fuck me! Ruin me!” Trevor’s voice echoed through his trailer while Michael slammed his palm against his extroverted mouth, silencing him from disturbing the neighbours since it was the early hours of the morning. Trevor’s brows raised at the swift loss of words but soon rolled his eyes back, continuing to moan into his boyfriends hands.

“Shut the fuck up,” Michael hissed and thrusted harder, “Not another damn word. You’re gonna take it, Trev. You’re gonna fucking take it.”

He could then feel that brattish mouth twitch into a smirk, a slimy tongue wickedly licking against his rough palm while his body completely dominated the other by pressing Trevor into the mattress as the cock proceeded further and beyond. The camera changed and focussed on Mikey’s cock eating at his sore anus, pre-cum aiding it’s entrance and exit, the tip reddening by minute.

“Fuck… Mikey…” Trevor’s untouched boner stood straight with a heavy load waiting to burst. It shook helplessly. He tried to comfort himself but Michael slapped his hands away before slapping his cock, recording the whole abuse. The torture gave Trevor a second reason to cry, his face scrunched with agony.  

“Don’t.” Was all Michael said.

The duvets creased up more when the pace between them increased horrifically. Trevor’s body mounted up and down, his back torn between sweat and the bedsheets, penis struggling to contain any further fucking like the chump he was. It was swollen and he breathlessly reached for Michael’s arms which held the camera.

“You want them to see?” Mikey teased and zoomed into the mans distressed face.

Trevor growled as cum drooled from his tip. Any more words from his boyfriend’s mouth, and he’ll cum. He knows it.

“Ohhh, what’s this…” His hips shuddered when the camera flashed onto his soon to be cum-painted stomach. Trevor winced when Michael handled his tired cock, squeezing it relentlessly. This released more semen that it all came out in that second. His throat went numb and he moaned pathetically, only to be overpowered by Michael who seemed amused by the easiness of his orgasm, “You can’t help yourself, Trev. Look at you… A fucking mess.”

“Shit, fuck… Sugar…”

“You’re an easy little fuck-toy, baby. All you need is a fucking minute and you’ll cum right away.”

“Mngh – “ Trevor grunted as he was being fucked still.

“Now, now…” Whispered Michael before tossing his boyfriend onto his stomach, them fine shoulder blades tensing and clenching when Trevor had more access to the duvet for support. He gripped onto them, being penetrated harder due to the better position. Mikey caressed the defined muscles on the back in front of them, then leaned forward, placing the camera in front of Trevor with a pillow supporting it.

He now had both hands free, and they directly occupied the neck.

Trevor gasped and stared into the camera as it recorded the blurred background of Michael thrusting with his hands covering that “cut here” tattoo. It felt so raw and deep that Trevor couldn’t help but cum again. It dampened the sheets, his eyes oozing salty tears.

“I love you, I fuckin’ came– “ He struggled to speak.

“Oh yeah?” Michael’s voice appeared faint from the back. He liked showing off his mans beauty when being toyed around, “You came again, baby?”

“Mikey, I love you. Fuck…”

“I know you do.”

Trevor moaned and groaned, “Fuckin’ love you!”

“Keep it together, Trev. Keep it…” Michael winced when he approached that feeling, “Shit…”

Trevor noticed how sloppy the cock was and it was hardened to stone when it bullied his anus repeatedly. It made him excited and he stared into the camera with a tearful smirk, ignoring the hands around his neck, waiting for the moment where his older boyfriend would cum.

“Fuckin’ A…” Mikey breathed shakingly and thrusted one more time before gasping out of pleasure. He buried inside Trevor, leaning forward, his chest grinding his back, leaving a whole load inside the man underneath.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, taking in the anticipation. Trevor had left a puddle of sweat and drool onto the sheets as Michael reached for the camera, showing the future audience one last peek of the anus that was bricked with white cum. His breathing was heavy and he exhaled, stopping the recording, leaving behind a filthy video of their nastiness, haunting the hard-drive into uploading days later.

#trevor philips #grand theft auto 5 #gta v #grand theft 5 #grand theft auto #gta 5 #trevor gta #grand theft auto v #trevor philips fanfiction #trevor philips headcanons #michael de santa #michael de santa fanfiction #michael de santa/trevor philips #trevor philips/michael de santa #gta trikey #trikey gta #trikey #my fanfic #my fanfiction #my fanfic writing #my headcanons #michael gta

[neuroprincess]

August - Larissa Weems/Female Reader

Larissa Weems/Female Reader

Summary: Larissa has heard rumors that make her curious, anyway she can't help but be surprised when she meets August, the supposed copy of Principal Weems and coincidentally another shapeshifter.

Classification: Light angst (?)

Warnings: Maybe a almost sad talk about being a teenager, OC (original character)

Word count: +1800

Part One | Part Two | Part Three (soon)

Unrevised

Walking through the halls of Nevermore she hears rumors, small conversations between students as she passes and they believe she won't hear, part of these conversations is something about the next event at the academy or some bizarre gossip they made up spreading like flames, but now most of them are about a new student that was accepted in the new semester. Slowly she was gathering information, in short the girl apparently looks like her physically, hair so blonde it approaches white, pale skin, blue eyes, long eyelashes and tall, at least taller than most of the students. No additional information, no names or anything that makes her outstanding beyond appearance. Even so Larissa couldn't find her anywhere, for almost a week she was curious and unconsciously searched for someone who matched the characteristics, there weren't any kids but a boy who dyed the hair. At least until the fountain in the courtyard was filled with pink bubble soap and soon they pointed to a newbie, a brunette girl, with green eyes and tanned skin trying not to look nervous as if she was fighting for body expression not to give her away, which didn't work, startled eyes stared at the principal and she couldn't even deny when asked about.

"I don't think I've seen you here before." the woman says and sitting down in the chair while the teenager does the same in the armchair, eyes down avoiding eye contact "New student?"

"Yeah..." is all she says "Look, I swear I don't do it anymore, I just..."

"Hey, calm down! You weren't the first kid to mess up at Nevermore and won't be the last, believe me, I've faced worse pranks." she laughs and opens the laptop "So, you are?"

"August."

"Okay!" she focuses on the screen searching for the name, but finds nothing but a list of names that are similar or have as a middle name "I don't..." when she raises a gaze finds a totally different person sitting there and she gives a little jump of surprise.

It's the girl with white hair, all the characteristics described in flesh and blood. Her light hair is wavy and cut at shoulder length, the skin is pale and this highlights the big blue eyes, she is tall, evident by the bone structure and the big legs that try to cross each other awkwardly. And she understands why she has caused so many rumors, she is incredibly alike to the woman, they share the same nose, shape of lips, and their expressions are eerily similar, as when she frowns. As if Larissa is staring at a younger version of herself.

"I'm sorry, I'm used to introducing myself like this, you can find me by Lara August." she shrugs the shoulders and blushes, feeling guilty for making her waste her time in research.

"Shapeshifter?"

"Yeah, I guess, that's what they put on my record." the principal looks at her confused and the girl sighs "And what my mom says, she's a normie."

"Oh, I get it." Larissa types the girl's name and soon a record is being loaded, the internet doesn't help the process "You know, you can return to your normal form, I know being a shapeshifter can be cool, but I need you to be yourself."

"This is my normal form." the woman doesn't believe this and just shrugs shoulders at what appears to be some sort of rebellion or joke about her appearance "Principal Weems, am I really screwed? My mom works a lot and it's hard for her to get here. So if you could not involve her I would appreciate it."

"I'll have to let her know anyway, but I don't think her presence is necessary." the record continues to load and this frustrates her, it's not uncommon for the signal to drop interrupting her activities "Now tell me, why did you do that?"

"I... I don't know, maybe I was just trying to stand out... and make friends." the teen confesses and snorts, throwing herself against the armchair, her expression isn't angry or frustrated, it actually looks sad.

"You're a shapeshifter, you could easily stand out since they're not so common these days."

"That's not how it works, Principal Weems! Everyone has something to be outstanding at, whether it's grades, arts, fencing or other sports. My grades are average, I'm a disaster at sports and I already tried to join the yearbook club, but they turned me down." she blurts out and finally looks her in the eye "So I tried to be the funny one and danced in the first prank, something added to the list to be terrible at."

"You remind me of me as a teenager, it's a tough phase, no?! But you don't have to try so hard to get them to like you, if someone approaches you that's for who you are and what you represent to them. You know, being a shapeshifter is a big deal and it can confuse you, change shape, voice, personality. It's all confusing and you feel that you can be someone different, someone they love, but that's not you and it's important not to let yourself get lost. You are special and you stand out in your own way."

"I didn't want to be like that, I wanted to be someone better, cool and maybe normal, sorry to say that, but I feel so out of place here and out of here too." her eyes tear up, but Lara soon wipes it away before tears could fall "You don't have to hear or see this. What will be my punishment?"

"Well..." Larissa turns her eyes back to the laptop and the record finally seems to have loaded, her name written in graphical letters Lara August Leonore Y/L/N, she swallows dryly at the sight of the familiar surname and mentally tries to reassure herself that it's a common surname, then continues to read the record at a glance, the girl was born in late 2006 far from Jericho and as she runs her eyes over the names of parents she chokes on her own saliva "You said your mom is a normie right?"

"Yes, she worked in Jericho as a youth and moved away before she had me."

"Y/N?" Larissa read and reread the name on the record, but still can't assimilate what she had just read "Are you Y/N Y/L/N's daughter?"

"Yes, do you know her?"

"We're old friends." she says simply, trying not to sound shocked or uncomfortable "She used to work in a cafe in Jericho."

"I think she told me that...since you know her, can you brandish my punishment please?"

"We've barely met and you're already asking me for favors, Lara?!" she jokes and the two laugh exchanging amused glances "Your punishment would be lenient, but since you asked I'm going to have to order you to stay a week without shapeshifting. I'll keep an eye on you. Right?"

"Right! I'll try not to shapeshift, only in case of life and death. Girl Scout's word!" she raises the right hand and swears, happy that she was able to resolve this without having to involve or call her mom, she had never been in the presence of the principal so it was a nice surprise when she was pleasant and understanding.

"And you're going to get the pink paint off the edges of the fountain."

"Very fair. Thank you Principal Weems!" she stands up and extends her hand, waiting to be shaken, but Larissa doesn't get up in shock at the girl's height, when they said she was tall they meant really tall, measuring enough to reach her shoulder even while wearing heels.

"Yes, fair enough. You're free." the blonde finally reaches out and shakes her hand, feeling awkward about the whole interaction after finding out who her mom is. The girl makes mention of leaving the room as she picks up the backpack she left on the armchair "Lara, before you go, who is your father? Shifters are few in our community, maybe I know him."

"If you know him introduce us, I grew up without a parent other than my mom, I don't know who he is." the teenager laughs and turns to leave, but before she turns to the woman again "Please call me August, I prefer it. And I love your eyeliner"

"Thank you, August!" she says goodbye in a nod and waits for the girl to close the door before letting out a long heavy sigh "Y/N and a child? No way."

She says to herself and analyzes the whole situation, as much as this possibility hit her deep in the chest and made stomach flip in a strange way, Larissa still can't believe. Not in a thousand years. That girl is a copy of herself physically, while they were talking she realized that even the teeth and the wide smile are the same, the mannerisms are also similar, how the legs come together when they are not crossed, the way she blinks when relaxed and, mainly, how she feels about her abilities. Her teenage years were like that, trying to fit in, and she doesn't deny that she changed her form to please people sometimes, trying to be accepted in social groups until she realized that it was okay to be eccentric in her own way. Despite being similar to her in many ways the director realizes that she has some Y/N things, she saw this after learning of her link and immediately recognized what she found alike in her from the beginning, the sweet eyes. She remembers those same eyes staring at her fondly when they kissed after a hard day, with devotion when lying in bed, with animosity on late night encounters, with anger when she said she was still not over Morticia even after 10 years and with pain when she left carrying only a suitcase with her. That's what she thought until she met August. Because although the world is big there aren't many coincidences that would lead to the teenager being born eight months after she and Y/N broke off their engagement. Nor to her coincidentally being one of the only shifters in Nevermore. Much less to Lara August being a copy of her.

She puts face between her hands and looks at the record again, there beside it is the phone number of the girl's mom. Larissa wonders if she should call or not, after all, it has been more than 16 years since the last time they saw each other or talked, because both of them thought it was better to cut ties completely to avoid suffering more from the breakup. They changed phone numbers, no longer asked about each other to mutual friends and slowly disposed of the memory of their respective existences like a paper that burns in flames becoming ashes. She quickly dials the phone number, without thinking further and taking a breath of courage. Larissa isn't dumb, everything points to something and Y/N would have to explain herself. Explain how she has a teenage daughter she didn't know, how this happened and why she hid her for so many years.

#larissa weems x reader #imagine #female reader #larissa weems #gwendoline christie

[intramoon]

Hellooo 🥺 I wanted to know if you have followed a tutorial to make the last gifs? Or would you show how to make them? Than you so much 💕

I didn't follow any specific tutorial, I've just made a quick little process after researching how other people on Tumblr make gifs. I can tell you how I do but I would definitely recommend following a tutorial of someone more qualified! lol

Aj's Guide To Sims Gifs

I am going to show you how I made this gif of Wednesday:

You'll need:

A screen recording program; Streamlabs, OBS Studio

Adobe Photoshop (FYI I am using the newest version).

The full tutorial is below the cut.

I promise it is easy, this tutorial is just long because I want to cover all bases, so if you have no idea what any of what I am saying means you can still follow along easily!

Lets get started!

1. Installing Your Recording Programs

You'll need to be able to record your game. Any streaming or screen recording program with work perfectly! I use Streamlabs because that's what I use for Twitch, but OBS Studio will work too! I've used them all, I recommend Streamlabs because it's more user-friendly.

2. Setting Up Your Recording Programs

You'll need to set up a scene in your streaming program that records your display or your game. In Streamlabs you go to the plus bottom beside sources and add either a Display Capture or a Game Capture, select your display or game. Is there a difference? Using game capture will remove any of your miscellaneous desktop UI and you won't have to crop it out later down the line. Despite that being pretty handy, I do display capture because I am difficult. lol If you have questions about this step feel free to send a ask, but I am going to skip over this to be able to go into more detail about the gif-making process.

3. Recording Your Scenes

Now you'll need to record your scenes in-game! I recommend doing this with ReShade or gshade. I use ReShade. Just make sure your lighting is how you like, the time of day is how you like, and have fun! Tip #1: Save your game before you start recording any scenes. Especially if you are recording gameplay, this will allow you to go back if you miss an animation or interaction. You'll be able to reload your game where you were and you can try to capture the moment again. Tip #2: Only record for 10-20 seconds at a time. Yes, you'll have a bunch of small recordings and that is what you want. You'll have to import those clips to Photoshop and if they are over 30 seconds they are going to strain your computer and be difficult to work with. Record animations just one time through, and re-record from different angles. This will let you pick from a variety of clips to get the gif you want. For 5-7 gifs I have 15-ish recordings that are about 10 seconds each, for reference. Tip #3: If you are alpha like me and are plagued by alpha hair vs. MXAO, just be intentional with the hair choices you make because you cannot edit the MXAO out later (I mean you can but it is a lot of fucking work). I have found updos are better at not having crazy MXAO spots. Or opt for using sims with darker hair.

4. Loading and Shortening Your Clip

Now, pick the first clip you'd like to convert to a gif. Go to File > Import > Import Videos To Frames and then select the video file for the clip. A window will appear that looks like this:

From here you are going to select the exact moment in your clip that you want to use. The two half-sliders underneath the timeline are your start and stop points. You want to move them to just encompass the moment you want to use. Try to cut it down as much as possible to just the moment you need, the longer the clip the more frames, the longer it will take to render and the harder it will be on your computer. You will know if your clip is too long with this pop-up:

Avoid this!

My cut-down clip looks like this:

5. Loading In Your Layers & Workspace

Your workspace should look like this!

You should see 100-200ish layers on the right side and a timeline on the bottom. If you do not see the layers on the right side go to Window > Layers, you should be able to see them after doing this. If you do not see a timeline on the bottom, go to Window > Timeline, you should be able to see it after doing this. If your timeline does not look like mine and rather like this:

Don't worry! That's totally fine! If you do want to change it click the three squares on the bottom left and it will show each individual frame.

6. Cropping and Resizing

You want to work with the smallest file possible so you can use the littlest amount of resources and have the smallest file size. This is, one, to reduce strain on your computer but also because Tumblr only allows gifs that are 10MB. We want to keep the gif as small as possible.

First, we are going to crop our gif! In my example, I need to crop out my computer UI. I think long gifs and square gifs look the best, so I am going to crop my long ways.

We also want to resize our gif to 540px. I know people get on me for resizing my screenshots to 540px but this is a MUST for gifs. If not they will be blurry. They are not like screenshots and portraits. In my crop settings, you'll see I have my set to 540px.

That makes the cropping resizing process quicker by killing two birds with one stone. Alternatively, you can crop as normal, and then resize to 540px afterward. I've done both and both get the same result! If your post will have two gifs side by side you'll want to crop your gifs to 268px.

If it takes Photoshop a little bit of time to crop the image, that is normal! Just requires some patience. The same goes for resizing. I've found sometimes resizing takes the longest.

My resized gif looks like this!

7. Editing Your Gif

Technically your gif is done! If you don't intend on editing it you can export it and you're done! I like to do a little editing on my gifs.

To edit gifs you'll need to use non-destructive editing methods, ie. adjustment layers or smart objects but most likely adjustment layers. If you, for example, edit by going to Image > and then adjusting your image, you'd have to do that to all your layers. That's not viable. Instead, you'll want to make a group at the top of all your layers and place your adjustment layers in the group. You can make a group by clicking the folder icon at the bottom of your layers panel. You can create adjustment layers by clicking the half-shaded circle on the bottom of your layers panel.

BE CAREFUL! Make sure you are doing edits on layer 1, if you edit other random layers the edit will only apply to those layers. I've made this mistake a few too many times.

As for sharpening, this is when you'd use your sharpening action or sharpen it yourself. I am going to be using this sharpening action by insomniacgifs. I've used a handful but this is the one I like the most because it converts my layers into a smart object that lets me do more edits later (which I will show you).

All sharpening actions are different so make sure to read their instructions before you use them. Some sharpening actions have a layer limit so they will not work on longer gifs.

To start using insomniacgifs action I have to convert my layers to frames. They have an action for this. I select "Layer 1" and run their "Frames to Timeline" action.

Now my layers are in a smart object!

Smart objects are a non-destructive way to edit and something I recommend using with gifs and your edits. Smart objects also preserve the quality of your images despite you resizing and editing your image.

In regards to gifs, this allows me to use Camera Raw Filter and more heavily edit my gif! All I am going to do is open Camera Raw Filter and edit away! It will apply my edits to a layer attached to this smart object.

After I've done my edits, I will pick which level of sharpening I want to use from insomniacgifs action. I usually pick soft. I am going to press play on the "Soft" action. This does sometimes take a while to load. You may get a progress bar. Just be patient. This may take a few minutes.

Now that the Soft actions have finished, my gif is sharpened! I am extra and want to tweak my gif a little more. After finishing the Soft action all my layers will be in a "gif" folder. Remember how I mentioned before that to edit gifs you want to place a group above your layers and place your adjustment layers inside? I am going to do that now! It looks something like this:

8. Saving Your Gif

Now, finally, we can save! This is the easiest part! Go to File > Export > Export for The Web (Legacy). I window will open that looks like this:

In the top right, make sure the file type is set to GIF. Here you can play your gif and see it in action! Now, this is what I normally notice if I do not like the speed of the gif. It defaults to 0.06 seconds per frame. Sometimes I like this slow pace to get a dreamier gif but with this gif, it's too slow. I will show you how to fix it. Close this window and go to your timeline. Shift + Left-Click the first and last layers on the timeline. Right-click on the frame duration.

Now click other and change it to your desired duration. For me, that will be 0.03 seconds.

Now let's try to save again! This is the end result!

If you have questions please do not hesitate to ask! I will update this tutorial as people ask questions and clarification is needed! You can always hit me up if you need help!

#Tutorial #Asks #anonymous #Oof this #was a lot of work but I hope it helps you #if you want to learn now to make gifs!

[fivewholeminutes]

so. wembley.

Once I have finally gathered my wits the words did not want to stop coming. This rambling is long; apologies for that. And for the messed up tenses I hate tenses we only have one past tense why is English like this

No photos/videos yet, they are still not properly checked/deleted/edited by me.

It was. Unsurprisingly. One of the best days of my life. But also, I don't remember much from my life, so don't trust me on this one. (Kidding, it totally WAS one of the best days of my life). And uhh... I have a problem with processing events and emotions, so it still feels like I have seen it on a TV screen instead of, you know, actually, physically having been there? Idk how to explain that, I still have to convince my brain that I've been there. I feel detached from it completely. But!! I!! Have!! Been!! There!!

I woke up so early that foxes were still roaming the streets. Didn't talk much with people around me in the queue (hello anxiety), but they were lovely! I signed the blue flag for iii from me & Lia, got the sticker for Projekt Atlantic, received some bracelets, exchanged some bracelets, put some sea creatures tattoos on people (LIA I FORGOT TO GIVE YOU THE WHALE!!!), slept on a pavement, bought merch for myself and others (I've never had anyone to buy concert merch for before, it's such a nice feeling 🥺).

And queueing for so long was so fucking worth it! Third row, baby!! For the first time in the middle!! (Which was my downfall later, but the pre-show me was not aware of that just yet). I couldn't actually hear HEALTH that well, but I really liked their drummer, he was enjoying himself and his joy was contagious. (I've checked them later though and. Last album, my beloved.) During the break, well, you all know what was happening, I have been liveblogging everything (sorry about that <3). The moment someone in the crowd literally screeched when they saw the new masks on instagram was a blessing, I wouldn't have survived seeing them in new masks without a warning. Also, my blind ass would probably realise 3 songs in that they have different masks, I shit you not. Besides, it was super fun having a mental breakdown here on tumblr with y'all <3

When Espera entered the stage, everything else stopped being of any importance to me. I remember my first thought was "oh yeah, sure, the ladies are dressed up and moving like this and you expect me to focus on anything else that is happening on this stage?". And of course, my second thought was "I GOTTA TAKE PICTURES FOR DARYA". Naturally, I was trying to keep up with everything else anyway. I haven't seen ii all too well though and it makes me sad :( Alas. I've had a good vantage point for the ladies. Yeah. Brain went brrrrr every time I was looking at them. Where was I again-

I was still coughing at that time. I got a terrible coughing fit after literally 3 short screams during HEALTH and my idiot ass has left all the lozenges except one in the hotel room an hour before the door opening. I thought I would have to spend the rest of the night not singing along nor screaming and felt utterly heartbroken for a few minutes, but after my Holy Grail Lozenge (and a LOT of water from the venue's crew) my cough has abandoned me for the duration of the whole ritual (thank you, Sleep). Even though, when Sam told us that we have to sing, my only thought was "I CAN'T FUCKING SING EITHER, MATE". But I did. Oh, I so fucking did. I sung my lungs out and did not cough even ONCE.

But you know. I was exhausted, anxious, surrounded by strangers and had more sugar in my veins than red cells at that point, so I wasn't my best self. I really thought the karaoke was for shits and giggles at first. "Oh yeah, it's The Most Popular Song, let's see how it sounds when 10k people sing it without the singer's help!", you know. Thought it was for the recording the announcements warned us about. But then we sung Granite. Ohhhkay. And then The Love You Want - certainly not a song they would leave for an impropmtu singalong. It was then that I (belatedly) realised that yeah, something really was wrong and so my heart broke again. So many preparations! Their biggest gig so far! Even iii managed to be there! And something had to happen!! Specifically!! To Vessel!! Of all people!! That was just not fair. He totally didn't deserve this. But it's just life and its endless fucking bad surprises for everyone, huh.

I didn't have enough time to collect all the broken pieces of my heart from the sticky floor and mend them after this realisation, because after Vessel joined the singing for the last few lines of TLYW, he dropped to his knees in front of us crying and thanking everyone. That sight is now carved into my brain. This is when I realised the 3rd row was a mistake. The psychic damage it gave me is irrevocable. Do you have those moments that you will never forget? A few seconds of an (usually traumatic) experience that will haunt you forever, replaying in your mind like a broken record? It was a bit like this for me. It wasn't traumatic, mind you, but it was definitely something that made a permanent dent in my heart and a home in my brain. And I wouldn't change it anyway.

Another thing that made me think that I will just fall down and never get up was iii & iv's hug. It was. So full of love and reassurence. Idk, you could just feel that emitting from them, okay? I was standing there thinking "yeah sure, just fucking murder me tonight instead, okay. Should've kept staring at Espera only-". Ah yes. The ladies. Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. Where was I again-

The goosebumps when the whole venue yelled "they won't be missing you" during Nazareth, oh my fucking god. On my previous rituals, in way smaller venues, there's always been a handful of people screaming it. And everyone doing it? Unparalleled feeling. Bordering on the shrimp emotions scale.

The lights were spectacular. I cannot describe how amazing the light show was. I am sending a kiss to each and every light crew member.

Also, Vessel being more emotional during the ritual as a whole. The TLYW moment was the worst for me, but there were many others. (Ascensionism and Bloodsport stabbing me with a rusty knife the most.) I mean, who could've blamed him for the emotions, he would probably be very emotional even without the voice issues. Who wouldn't be!! It was a big night, after all. God, it must have been so difficult for him, I really, really fucking hope the love coming from his bandmates, crew and the crowd was enough to help him focus on the good parts of the evening only. And!! It wasn't even that bad!!! Sure, he lost his voice for a while, but once it was back you could!! Barely!! Hear!! The difference!! I have a whole new level of respect for Vessel because of that. And for staying onstage with us for the songs he couldn't sing. Didn't know I could respect him even more than I already did, but hey. Love being surprised like that. I have seen concerts where the singers were singing way worse live while being completely healthy. Like sure, you could notice he's not using so many uhh, how do you call this in English, vocal ornamentations??? and that his voice is strained, but it was still beautiful. Take care of your voice now though, dude, jfc. Thanks for the sacrifice, much appreciated, but TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF OR SO HELP ME GOD I WILL FUCKING FIND YOU- (kidding, kidding. or am i.) I also liked that he was leaving the more screamy moments in songs for us. Aiming the microphone at us, positive we'll have his back. Like yeah, yeah, other bands do that relatively often, but it's not something they usually do, you know.

I can't vouch for everyone in the crowd, but I sure as fuck did not have a SINGLE thought that the show sucks because of his voice issues. Like it didn't even occur to me. Honest to god. I was shocked when I saw on tumblr that people were leaving? Asking for a refund????????????? I was having the time of my life singing those songs. It was a once-in-a-lifetime experience, probably!! Who can say they karaoked whole 3 songs with the band playing for them live?? Your local karaoke bar could never. (Bonus points, you could hear Espera better bc of that! Yes, I know, you are not supposed to hear backing vocals too loud in general, I'm just saying it was nice hearing them, bc usually I hear them on recordings only.)

Yeah, sure I was disappointed after the show that there was no Euclid, but that's just me, a total whore for Euclid. It's a completely different thing than being a bitch who leaves halfway, because something out of the ordinary has been happening.

Anyways. I would like to wish all the crowdsurfers a very fuck you. Hope you will all step on a lego every day for the rest of your lives <3

Crowdsurfers and constant giving away of water (which I understand, it was terribly hot there and it was needed) were a bit distracting, I missed some things because of the commotion, the drum solo has been disrupted by me getting a (fortunately very light) kick in the mouth and DRUM SOLO IS SACRED. I HOPE THE CROWDSURFER WHO DECIDED TO GO UP IN THAT MOMENT WILL STEP ON 3 LEGOS DAILY. IT'S LITERALLY THE MOST IMPORTANT PART OF THE RITUAL FOR ME AND THEY HAVE RUINED IT. Thanks to another crowdsurfer, I missed the moment the band was throwing stuff into the crowd and I promised Lia I will catch a pick/drumstick for them!!!!!!! I've had a banner for this occassion and all!!!!! And!!!!! For the whole time things were flying from the scene!!!! I have been under someone's legs and ass!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Side note: Vessel was throwing away his rings. That's so fucking cool, ahh.

All in all, half of the things that happened there, I've learned from tumblr. The announcements about the recording, people leaving, Vessel being covered in runes (I WAS STANDING RIGHT BEFORE HIM AND DIDN'T SEE ANYTHING. A N Y T H I N G. I HATE BEING A BLIND IDIOT), the Espera ladies laughing at iii for not coming to the photo, hell, even Vessel trying to get his attention. I have NO idea what I've been doing back then, it's a blur again lmao. And. The most important thing: Vessel's "thank you". I didn't catch it back then. I don't hear it on my recording. Tbh I couldn't believe y'all for a long while that it really happened (I'm sorry). But it did and you know what? I'm glad the broken pieces of my heart were left on the arena's floor earlier during the show. I don't want them anymore.

I would also like to thank that one security guy in huge headphones who was our warning that another fucking crowdsurfer was coming our way. I hope the headphones guy's pillow is always cold on both sides, his skin clear, his crops- and so on. Our hero <3

There was also a moment during Atlantic (another important moment disrupted. Smh) where 2 security persons dived into the crowd?? I still have no idea what was happening, bc if someone faints for example, they are always brught to the barricade by the crowd and security picks them up, I've never seen security getting into the crowd before. And because of that, people around me were talking loudly during Atlantic. Kill kill murder kill

Still, Projekt Atlantic was a huge success and I am so proud of the organisers!! They're in the same category of lovely people as the big headphones security guy

Sending a kiss to @murderofcrow for this gif 🖤

To sum up. I will forever be grateful for this band. This music has activated the dormant parts of my mind. I am making art again. I am meeting cool people because of them. I have people to talk about it with who are as excited about it as I am. For the first time in ages I really feel alive again. And life is not good, far from it, to be completely honest with you, they haven't magically fixed all my problems, but I do have something that actually fucking works on me. I know Vessel wouldn't agree, but they are saving people. And you all, lovely ST pocket of tumblr motherfuckers who are reading this, you are saving people too.

And, last but not least!! In hot pink, because I can! Thanks to this ritual I could finally meet @vesselsscarlet and @thevenomousseprent in person!!!!!!!!! I love you guys, you are amazing and I can't wait to see you again 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 You've made me feel so loved that weekend and it's something I haven't felt in a while!!

#it was surprisingly hard to write #took a lot of editing and rewriting whole paragraphs and it's still not a proper description of everything i wanted to say #i don't know how to talk about emotions #and i have. a lot of them since wembley #a word of advice: attend concerts. beg for money for them from your family members sleep in tents during rain #or in hostel rooms filled with random people #go for gigs without a place to sleep and spend 4hrs waiting for your bus home in a local mcdonalds #watching drunk guys split their eyebrows on the stairs there #(not now tho now we're boycotting macdonalds #but there are other places open 24/7) #go to gigs alone #but by god. go to them if you are able to and if your health allows you to go #(and yes it is coming from someone with anxiety. i wouldn't travel or sleep in a tent alone for anything else trust me) #it is always worth it. ALWAYS #sleep token

[mia-tiny]

『 Wooyoung & Sex Tape 』 | KTB ‘22

⇒ pairing: j. wooyoung x fem!reader

⇒ smut, filming/sex tape, oral (m receiving), dirty talk

⇒ word count: 923

💕 view my masterlist here

🖤 view my Kinktober ‘22 masterlist here

Your genius idea had popped into your head one evening about a week before Wooyoung is supposed to leave for his tour. He had already spent days complaining about how much he is going to miss you and how needy he is going to be without your touch since, in addition to being a clingy boyfriend in general, Wooyoung can never get enough of your body. His stamina and energy could rival the Energizer Bunny and sex with him is almost never only one or two rounds. Now that it is just one day before he leaves, you plan on proposing your solution to him.

While Wooyoung is tidying up after dinner, you sneak into the bedroom to slip on his favorite piece of lingerie, also fixing your hair and make up in the process. Once you are satisfied, you take a seat on the edge of the bed and wait a few minutes before the door creaks open. Not seeing you at first, your boyfriend unsuspectingly strolls in before doing a double take that has him gulping.

“What is this?” he asks curiously as he saunters over, a contented smile growing on his face.

“I know you’re going to miss me while you’re on tour,” you explain, his face immediately dropping at the reminder. “So I had a great idea that should help.”

His brows furrow thoughtfully until you pull the small digital camera out from behind your back. While it is more cumbersome than a phone, you are hoping it is at least a bit more protected from hackers or sasaengs that would want to get their hands on a dirty video of Wooyoung.

“You want to film a sex tape?” His voice is a bit apprehensive at first, but he must admit that having a video of you to keep him sated while on tour sounds incredibly appealing.

You nod shyly. “That way you can watch it when you think of me.”

You bravely reach out to palm his semi-hard member through his jeans, your innocent doe-like eyes gazing up at him seductively. His more dominant side promptly emerges at the feeling.

“Oh yeah? Are you going to put on a show for me?” he purrs as he takes the camera from you.

“Whatever you want,” you promise.

You hear him start the recording and take that as a sign to proceed. You eagerly undo his belt and zipper before removing his pants and boxers. His cock is already stiff and you spit on it just to be obscene. A low growl rumbles in the back of his throat and you use your hand to pump him a few times. He brushes your hair out of your face and makes sure to film the entirety of your tiny lingerie set.

“Are you going to let me use that obedient little mouth of yours?” His voice sounds even more dominant than usual, making you think he enjoys this much more than he is letting on.

“Yes, sir.” You don’t typically call him by this name, only really using it when he wants you to totally submit to him, but it just feels right based on the way he is speaking to you. His subsequent smirk confirms his satisfaction.

You sink down to your knees in order to be at the right height and start by lapping at his balls while continuing to stroke his shaft. He watches you through the camera screen as his fingers card through your hair and grip firmly. You place teasing kisses up along the bottom of his dick until you reach the tip, tongue swirling around it suggestively before you take him past your lips and hollow out your cheeks.

He uses his grasp on your hair to guide your pace without being too forceful, simply encouraging you to take him further inch by inch. His moans mix with the sound of you shamelessly sucking his cock like it is your lifeblood. As he hits the back of your throat, you gag loudly and tears slip past your eyelids, but his groan lets you know just how good it must feel.

Spit starts pooling at the corners of your mouth and you push yourself as far down on his dick as you can manage, your hand moving in time with your lips to stimulate the places you can’t reach. You purposefully look up at the camera and Wooyoung curses under his breath at how sexy you look while choking on his cock like this.

“Just like that, baby,” he exhales. “Such a good little slut just for me, huh?”

You hum around him in response, still making eye contact with the lens so that he can have the best view when he watches it back. Aiming to please, you pick up the pace and force yourself even farther down his shaft, eliciting a lewd moan from him. His breathing speeds up as well and you can tell he is close, but he abruptly pulls you off his dick.

He chuckles at your confused expression and moves the camera closer to capture the image of you with drool dripping down your chin and tear stains on your cheeks. “I don’t want to cum just yet, baby. We have a lot to film.”

As expected, tonight is going to be another long night, but you plan to savor every second of it since it may be the last time for a while. At least you charged extra batteries for the camera because you’re definitely going to need them.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Taglist: @minkysmilk @annaflwrs @han8ul @whatudowhennooneseesyou

#ateez smut #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez ff #ateez fic #ateez fluff #ateez headcanons #ateez drabble #ateez imagine #ateez oneshot #ateez x you #ateez wooyoung #seonghwa #hongjoong #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #jung wooyoung #wooyoung smut #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung scenarios #wooyoung x you #wooyoung headcanons #wooyoung fanfic #wooyoung fic #wooyoung ff

[agftheorist]

Is it possible to create a Darcy? An Amphibia meta

After the last events ( which is tumblr literally deciding to obliterate my toh analysis for no apparent reason) I hope this gets posted without any mess.

Well, we can begin now that I've written my blessings...

Disclaimer: I am not a neurology expert on anything like that, just someone who is very curious and makes research about brain. I will try to give sources of the informations I use in this theory post, and I would love it if anyone points out the missing or wrong parts of the information I give.

While watching the show, Amphibian technology always made me question the real life equivalents of these technologies. And, probably for many others too, the standing out one was the Core itself (I mean duh). In this post, we will look into the technology and biology that is the Core, and if it's actually possible to create one, and the possession, of course.

So, our main question is; is it possible to create a Darcy? To answer that, we need to answer these questions;

What exactly is "The Core"?

Can a machine control a human body?

Well, of course they create many other questions within them too, so let's start with the first one.

What Exactly Is "The Core"?

I think we all can agree that the Core itself is, to some extent, just a super advanced AI. I mean, before possessing Marcy, it has no organic compound forming it. A jungle of screens and cables and that's just it.

What makes it interesting is, however, the memories it contains. Aldrich claims that "it is the collection of Amphibia's greatest minds", which himself will also be included. Now, is it possible? Can we simply download our memories to a software system? Well, no. On the other hand, however, the answer should be: not yet. Because memories are said to be the connections between our brain cells (neurons) and solving them is what many scientists are currently working for. In fact, your thoughts are actually very much reachable with the most advanced technologies we have today.

The problem is, they are nowhere near the level of the Amphibian technology with very low resolution. Scientists can connect electrodes to your brain and record which parts of your brain are working more than others while thinking a specific thing, but just not very specific. As an example, you may be thinking about eating a hamburger and the scientists will know that you are thinking about food, and not some maths problem, because they see that the parts of your brain that are responsible for perceiving foods works more than others at that moment. Even if you are just thinking about food and not actually eating it.

Long story short, human technology still has a LONG way to go before actually resolving thoughts in 4K quality, let alone memories which have already happened AND recording them to an outside source. Also, I do not have that much scientific evidence to support this, but I assume memories must require A LOT OF storage unit. Because they need to include sensory information of that specific memory, the person's thought process etc., for the whole life of every person. Assuming Leviathans did just that, they must need a very strong CPU.

Now, let's say that we've managed to record their memories. We can say that this would be similar to saving a video to your USB. What makes the Core more special is, the ability to process these memories and experiences. Them drawing correlations between Anne and Sasha's invasion and Marcy's memory of watching the show is a mere example of that. And whose feature is that? Artifical Intelligence. IBM's definition of AI is given as below.

"artificial intelligence is a field, which combines computer science and robust datasets, to enable problem-solving. It also encompasses sub-fields of machine learning and deep learning, which are frequently mentioned in conjunction with artificial intelligence. These disciplines are comprised of AI algorithms which seek to create expert systems which make predictions or classifications based on input data."

The definition clearly states that AIs make their decisions by given data. And in the Core's case, the data becomes the memories of Amhibia's Kings, Queens and top-scholars. Their experiences and life perspectives. Most of the AIs make their decisions based on what knowledge you feed them with, sometimes resulting with "racist" AIs. (Considerig Amphibia's caste system, the Core can also be called racist but that's a whole different story)

To answer our first question, the Core itself is an extremely advanced AI which was fed by the views of Amphibia's extremely colonialist upper-class. Therefore, becoming and reflecting their very "Core", quite literally.

Now we're coming to the most interesting part....

Can a machine control a human body?

Before giving scientific evidence, I want to state that a machine or AI controling a human body is becoming more and more prevalent in media actually. From books to very well known movies. In Matrix, we see the character Bane becoming a vessel for Agent Smith, a literal AI virus. The process also has some similarities with both of them acquiring a cable to the spinal cord etc. But since science and general worldbuilding of Matrix is WAY different than that of Amphibia's, I don't get into specifics here.

Okay let's get back into the Core. As you might have noticed, the amount of cables Darcy has is getting greatly reduced throughout the show.

From this

To this

Another thing I noticed which may or may not be a change of design, but there is a little extension on the cable at this picture. At the later episodes, it is removed.

As you can see, the cable is continiuous now. Did that part had a purpose? Maybe as a filter for Marcy's memories or quirks? If it's the later one, it's obviously not working very well. What's interesting is tho, the apparatus dissappears within that episode. I don'y they'd change animation style mid-episode...

The extension disappears with the optimization process. Wanna know what else also disappeared with it? Marcy's "quirks" that are inherited by the Core. The cravings, trippings and everything else. If it weren't Darcy would've tripped and fallen probably a thousand times during their fight with Sasha and Grime. So that makes us question: what exactly did the optimization do?

For the rest of the theory, we are going to assume that the AI level of the Core is so advanced that it works similar to a human brain. And for those who don't know, human brains process data like a giant sponge. In whatever form you give it the data, the brain finds a way to make it "meaningful", especially in children. Ever wondered why infants talk a lot and touch themselves and around them? It is because their brains are trying to find the meanings and patterns of the sensory input. An example to that would be locating where your ears are and where the voice is coming from. The brain sends a random signal out there (gibberish voices) a feedback comes in the form of electrical impulses, and the brain finds a pattern eventually by repeating this so many times.

Deep learning method for an AI is also quite similar to this. AI does something, gets a feedback and fixes itself over time depending on those feedbacks. How does this connect to Darcy? Well, that cable from the head has to be going to somewhere. The Core and it's inhabitants never had a body for at least a thousand years, assuming the newest one that joined was Aldrich. So they had to learn pretty much everything from the beginning, in a body no newt has ever been in: a human body.

Even though they had insisted on possessing her for being smart, why wouldn't they just choose a newt, someone they'd be familiar with and would be comfortable as a body? Probably because to them, being smart meant processing more information faster, like having a faster computer. But they were also cautious, since they'd also installed a filter before processing the feedback taken from the body. As a result, they got the sensory info, processed it during sleeping (which is also one of the functions of sleep in human body) therefore "calibrated" the body. But in fact, the AI itself also evolved to actually process the sensory info.

Another little detail that I noticed is from a scene after Sasha cut the cord in All In. Darcy checking the body to find any damage is actually very confusing. I don't think any human (even most of the other animals) would need to touch or see to the wound to see if they've been violently stabbed by a long sword. After thinking for a while, I've formed a theory for that. We are not 100% sure what the inside of the body costume is made of, but we can safely make an assumption by looking to this picture.

This is a shot that shows the inside of the helmet. And it is full of electrodes that transports the signals from the brain to an outside source. So, we have no reason to reject the idea that the clothing covering the body is also filled with electrodes. Plus, when Marcy was in the rejuvenation tank, they needed to check her vitals to ensure her survival which doubles the possibility.

Now let's get back into the topic. If the costume/armor/WHATEVER is receiving signals from the body, then the outer part of it would be pretty plain, like the shell of a turtle. Turtles do have nerve cells on the shells, but way less than other parts of their body. Since she didn't have any signals from the outside layer, and no sign of damage from the inner electrodes, they checked the outer part with hands, whose signals were very well received by the Core.

I think this also explains how she was able to all those acrobatic moves when fighting with Sasha and Grime. The Core wasn't actually inside the body, but sending signals to the body. Same as human brains not having any nerves to feel pain, the Core itself wasn't actually receiving any pain signals like a normal human body does.

To sum it all up, an AI, computer programme or the collective memories of dead Amphibian upper class possesing a human body, is VERY possible. With very advanced technology, definitely. As my personal opinion, I believe we will actually see examples of it. When exactly, I don't know. Lastly, the helmet and pretty much all of the equipment is pretty Marcy-sized, so I wonder how long they've been designing those...

#amphibia #amphibia meta #amphibia marcy #marcy wu #darcy #darcy wu #amphibia darcy #amphibia andrias #andrias leviathan #the core #amphibia the core #amphibia theory #amphibia anne #anne bounchoy #amphibia sasha #sasha waybright #olivia and yunan #amphibia olivia and yunan #amphibia all in #amphibia the core and the king #the core and the king

[minisugakoobies]

Versus | MYG, JHS - Chapter 7

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader x Hoseok

Genre: smut, fluff, angst, crack, enemies to lovers, Villains!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: mentions of weapons - blades and lasers, mentions of blood/bleeding, references to physical combat, references to kissing, references to masturbation (m), this one's pretty angsty, the sidekicks remain the sweetest, shifting POVs, Vitality has to deal with a sexist asshole

Word Count: 3.7k

Disclaimer: NSFW, obviously I don’t own BTS - they just inspire me

Summary: Supervillain exes Yoongi and Hoseok are sick and tired of having their plans for world domination wrecked by you, aka Vitality, the world’s most powerful superhero. When fellow villain Jimin suggests a little competition to see who can bring you to your knees, they both eagerly accept. Now the battle is on as both men engage you in fight after fight to see who will conquer you first. Will you finally defeat these two, or will they destroy you - and possibly take each other out in the process?

A/N: And we're back! Sorry for the long break, but the holidays interrupted everything (like they usually do). This might be the longest chapter yet? To think I once thought this would be a drabble series 😵‍💫 I'm just a wordy bitch 😂

Chapter title comes from "Seek & Destroy" by SZA, which is very much the vibe for this chapter and the chapters to come.

Unbeta’d as usual. Please don’t be a silent reader! 🥺 My inbox is always open! 💕

Chapter Six ✨ Series Masterlist ✨ Character Playlists

Chapter Seven: The Art of War, Goddammit, I'm Drained

Jin knows a lot of things.

As an advanced AI system, it has access to all of humanity’s collective knowledge. It can tell you anything that has ever been recorded, in written word, in video or photos, in digital data. Nothing is out of its reach.

It also knows how lucky it is that Hobi is its creator. To think that this gorgeous genius, this gifted scientist, this absolute visionary poured his heart and soul into making Jin… well, it would give it goosebumps if it had arms. And flesh. 

Right now, though, it knows that Hobi needs it, no matter how much he protests otherwise. So as Hobi once again stomps through his lair, heading for his inner sanctum, Jin opens every door for him unprompted, dims the lights slightly to mitigate any headaches Hobi might have picked up while fighting (the man always seems to end up with a tension headache after dealing with Vitality), and releases a calming burst of lavender into the air as well. 

Jin prides itself on taking care of its beloved.

Hobi sheds his black body harness, removing all of his laser weapons as he continues to scowl at no one. A replay of his battle from earlier today is playing in his mind on a loop. Once again, he’d failed. He’d finally managed to fight you without having to rely on those damn power disrupters and he’d still lost. 

And then there was that whole… ordeal… with the kissing. And the strange sensation flowing through him from your touch. Just what the fuck was that about??

“Penny for your thoughts, love.” 

Hobi purses his lips. “Jin, please. Not now.” He strips out of his all-black combat ensemble and slips on an oversized tee and joggers. Running his hand through his hair, he musses it slightly. Gone are all traces of Dark Hobi, his fastidiousness, his sharpness. This is just Hoseok, looking soft and slightly lost. 

Jin’s electronic heart glitches in agony.

“I’ve prepared an analysis of today’s engagement if you’d like to see where things went wrong.” 

“Ha,” Hoseok barks a piercing laugh, one that manages to sting Jin even despite its lack of nerves. “I know exactly where shit went wrong. Expecting Vitality to act rationally.”

As Hoseok strolls into his command center, Jin activates all the screens, displaying the video captured from the cameras embedded in Hoseok’s tech. “Actually, sir, it appears that the fatal flaw in your plan today occurred when you stopped using your tech and chose to engage Vitality in hand-to-hand combat.” If Jin had a throat to clear uncomfortably, this is where it would do it. “Just like the last time.” 

Hoseok frowns, staring at the monitors. Jin’s right, of course. He knows he shouldn’t indulge so much in physical violence. If he would simply resist the impulse, he could probably finish you off so easily using any of his laser weapons.

He just can’t help himself. Every time he sees you, he feels this burning need to get his hands on you. It consumes him, drives him mad until he finally snaps. 

Until he gets that desperate urge under control, it’s going to be his downfall every time.

“I know, Jin. I fucking know.” Hoseok sighs, propping his feet up on the command console. “So I’m guessing your recommendation for the next battle is…?”

“Once you have her cornered, either with or without the disrupters, use your tech to destroy Vitality.”

“Right.” Hoseok rubs his face, and Jin wishes yet again that it had an arm to sling around its creator’s shoulders. “You make it sound so easy.” 

“I’m merely reporting the results based on a comprehensive analysis of–”

“Save it, Jin, I understand.” Hoseok’s so tired. When’s the last time he had a proper night’s sleep? 

Oh. Right. 

He sighs, sitting up and crossing his arms over the console. “Clear the screens, Jin. I don’t need to see anymore.” 

“Is there anything else I can do for you, darling?”

Hoseok ignores the term of endearment, lost in thought. Will he ever be free of the guilt of that night? Or will it haunt him forever? 

Maybe if he exorcises his ghost, he’ll be free.

It’s along that train of thought that he gives his next command.  “I want you to run a few scenarios for me.” 

“Of course. What would you like me to analyze?” 

Hoseok leans forward, resting his chin on his arms. For someone whose brilliance looms so large, he seems so small, Jin muses. “I want to know the most effective way for me to eliminate Vitality and Yoongi. Together.”

“Hyung, please. Let me take a look.” 

“I said I’m fine, Taehyung-ah!” 

Taehyung’s one of the strongest marksmen Yoongi’s ever met, capable of taking down any foe with any item from his vast arsenal, but truly, the deadliest weapon he wields is his pout. Yoongi sighs.

“Fine.” He lowers his head, allowing Taehyung to inspect the cut opened by your fingernails. It oozes blood as his confidant touches it gingerly, and Yoongi hisses. 

“Sorry, hyung.” Taehyung bends over his medical kit, setting to work cleaning and dressing the wound as Yoongi silently meditates on what an absolute fuck-up of a day it’s been. 

Once again, he’d been on the verge of victory. Thanks to Taehyung’s intervention, he’d had you cornered, trapped against the cabinets. He could still feel the dagger in his hand, aimed at your head. One toss was all it would take. One quick toss, and he’d win.

A thrill had raced through him at the thought of finally, finally defeating you. Not just you, but Hoseok, too. Honestly, that idea made his pulse jump even more. And then the flesh-eating bacteria escaped its confines, and Yoongi couldn’t believe his good fortune. You were seconds from being destroyed completely. With a vicious laugh, he’d pulled his arm back, preparing to deliver the death strike that would secure his crown, and glanced at your face.

That was his fatal mistake. 

Fear. So much fear was swimming in those gorgeous eyes of yours that it stopped his hand, locking him in place as the world spun around him. It was an expression he recognized from countless other faces over the years during his rise to supervillain status. A look that he usually sought out. Craved, even.

So why was it causing his gut to twist? He felt physically pained, staring into your terrified orbs. The urge to quell the panic he found there warred with his desire to win. 

He hesitated. And, well, he should’ve remembered that old saying. 

In a split second, he moved on instinct, tossing the dagger and saving your life. And then he was running again, without a chance to contemplate his reaction until he sat down and Taehyung began pestering him about his injuries. 

Reflecting on it now, his only thought is, what the fuck.

“Hyung, can I ask you a question?” 

Yoongi grunts. Sure.

“Is this competition worth it?”

Yoongi lifts his head, wincing at the way his wound stings with the movement, staring at his confidant. The other man’s blue hair is held back by a bandana, his gaze fixed on his kit as he organizes the objects, placing the items back into their proper spots, and Yoongi is struck by just how young Taehyung looks as he steadfastly avoids his hyung’s eye. 

“What are you asking, Taehyung?” Yoongi never has patience for avoidance.

Taehyung sighs, sounding quite like a weary old man despite his appearance as he answers. “It just seems that this contest has brought you nothing but pain and stress. How many times have I had to rescue you now? How many times have we sat here, you brooding silently while I patch you up? No matter how many brilliant plans you come up with, Vitality foils each and every one, and we return home to start over again. You know what they say about the definition of insanity, right?”

“Are you calling me insane?” Yoongi’s voice is laced with venom, but Taehyung doesn’t flinch. He knows he struck a nerve, but he trusts his hyung not to bite. 

“I’m just concerned. This competition seems to be taking so much from you.” His task complete, Taehyung faces his hyung, dark eyes wide with worry. “Maybe… maybe it’s time to let it go. Then you can get back to what you really want.”

That’s the real question, there. The one that’s been keeping Yoongi up at night. What does he want? He knows what Taehyung thinks he wants. The same thing Jimin thinks. World domination. 

But when Yoongi is alone in his bed, fantasizing, it’s never images of him sitting on a throne, ruling over all that makes him hard, have him gripping his cock, stroking so quickly. No, it’s usually a face floating through his mind. It used to be the same face, night after night, wicked eyes, dark smirk, whispering sweet words about forever. A face that used to lie beside him once upon a time.

Last night, it was a different face. Wearing an expression of hope.

Hoseok was always the impulsive one, giving in to his emotions so quickly. Yoongi’s worked hard to keep his in check. He’s only ever really given in once. 

Well, twice now.

He won’t make that mistake again. 

“Taehyung. I appreciate your concerns. I do. But you must trust that I know what I’m doing.” Someone needs to. “As for what I want… this competition is the way to achieve that.”

Taehyung blinks meditatively, absorbing Yoongi’s words, the waver in his voice. His hyung is lying. A tiny strand of dread works its way into his gut, settles there, twisting into a knot. “If you’re sure, hyung.”

“I’m sure.” Yoongi stands, muscles protesting loudly. He grits his teeth to keep from groaning in pain. “I’m going to win.” 

And when he’s done, and both you and Hoseok are gone forever, he’ll finally be free.

Tackatackatackatacka

The Company’s cubicle farm lackeys are busy clicking away while you stride down the hallway towards Conference Room A. Their heads turn one-by-one as you pass. You’d think after how many years of these weekly meetings, they’d be accustomed to your presence, but somehow every week you manage to electrify their sad little lives with the few seconds they bask in your radiance.

To these poor souls, you’re akin to a god, and you drink in their envy and awe as easily as you do the energy that pulses from the flickering fluorescent lights overhead.

Inside the boardroom, you take a seat next to Namjoon, who greets you with a nod and a gentle “Sup?” You nod back, not particularly feeling like making small talk, still smarting from your recent fights. Once again, you’d been on the verge of putting Yoongi and Hobi away from good, and once again, both slipped through your powerful fingers. 

You’re real fucking sick of the repeating seesaw games.

The CEO of your organization calls the meeting to order. You remain zoned out, nodding occasionally, smiling when your name is mentioned, but otherwise completely disengaged. 

“You okay, baby?” Namjoon murmurs as the CEO cues up something on the video screen behind him, droning on about Doc’s latest discovery of a new super in Bolivia. 

“Right as rain, Joon,” you reply. He looks dubious, so you steer him away. “How did your raid on LMLY Industries go?”

“Oh, uh, I didn’t end up leading that mission. Boss man decided to give it to the babies.” 

“He what?!” ‘The babies’ are the junior members of your org. Barely out of training, they’re nowhere near ready to handle a mission of their own. Especially not one where the target is a legendary villain like Jackson Wang. The man’s practically a mythical creature, appearing in nearly every story of defeat you’ve heard from other supers. 

Glancing across the table, you eye Jeongin and Felix curiously. They both appear to be in one piece, so they clearly didn’t lose, but you’d have heard by now if Wang was in custody, so he must’ve gotten away again. “If he wasn’t going to give you the mission, then it should’ve gone to me.” 

Namjoon shrugs. “Pretty sure you were on a mission of your own at the time. It’s not like you can be everywhere at once, babe.”

“Well, not until the scientists get the teleportation tech up and running. Last I heard, the lab suspended testing.” 

Namjoon grimaces. “Oh, yeah, they shut that shit down when Changbin and Jisung had their little… uh… body swap incident. Remember?” 

“Fuck, I completely forgot about that.” Seems like you should’ve remembered the sight of two of your junior teammates switching heads for a day, but it’s been a busy couple of weeks and these things tend to slip your mind. Thank god the scientists figured out they could reverse the swap by just sending them back through the portal. 

“Yeah. That was a wild fucking day.” The two of you fall silent as one of the officers at the table says your names, but he appears to be reading a report out loud and not actually addressing you, so you tune the meeting out again as Namjoon rubs his chin thoughtfully. “Speaking of the lab….”

“Vitality? Did you hear me?”

The CEO’s voice breaks into your gossip session and you sit up, startled. “Sorry, sir, what did you say?” 

The bald man eyes you suspiciously from behind a pair of thick spectacles. “We were just discussing your latest debriefing statements from your recent missions with Dark Hobi and Evil Yoongi.” 

“Of course, sir.” Your hand flexes on your thigh and you smother the sparks that slip from your fingertips in anger at his tone as you feel Namjoon shift anxiously beside you. You’ve never liked the way the CEO talks to you. You hate even more that you have to address him and all the other officers in this room as ‘sir.’ And of course your teammate knows both of these facts.

“General Ahn here wanted to ask you a few questions.” The CEO bows to a severe-looking older man sitting at the head of the table. His highly-decorated uniform speaks to a lifetime of service and victory. It’s meant to intimidate. To suggest power. 

Please. You could destroy him in an instant.

“Vitality,” the old man booms, “in addition to familiarizing myself with your statements, I have watched the videos we obtained from your body cams.” He’s referring to the tiny cams integrated into your uniform in your organization’s logo, a shield with a tiger’s head, and also in the headband you wear. “There seems to be some patterns.”

He pauses, and you realize he’s waiting for you to respond. “Some patterns, sir?” 

“Yes. In the last ten engagements you had with either of these supervillains, there came a point about halfway through where you suddenly end up completely at their mercy. Furthermore, in each of your last five missions to capture the wretch known as Evil Yoongi, not only were you on the verge of losing, but you managed to allow yourself to become restrained, tied up in one manner or another.” He stares you down across the table. “Explain yourself.”

You blink. Explain yourself? What the fuck does that mean? “I’m sorry, sir? Explain… “

“Yes, explain,” he snarls. “How does the strongest superhero in our arsenal suddenly find herself on the losing end against these two? Every time we send you out to bring them in, you end up on your back, or strung up by your ankles!”

His words seem to ruffle the others as uneasy murmuring ripples around the room. You notice the CEO shifting in his seat uncomfortably. Has he also noticed the strange glitching of your powers? 

Ice courses through your veins. You know the cameras captured everything visible, but what keeps happening to you can’t possibly be seen by others. Only the absence of the use of your powers might cause someone to question if they’re waning… but there’s no way they’ve caught on, is there? 

“I–I…,” you stammer for an answer as the general’s face turns red with anger. “I can only state that in each of these engagements, I eventually succeeded in defeating them.” 

“Yes, in the last ten battles, you did successfully overcome them eventually, as you say, but only after spending too much time and effort to do so, typically after causing more collateral damage than is acceptable, and on top of that, after all ten missions they both still managed to escape!” 

His aura is a disgusting brownish-green shade, pulsing violently as he shouts. You imagine that if you were to feed from him, it would just make you feel nauseous. 

“Well, sir, once I have apprehended the villains, I turn them over to our containment team, so any escape is hardly–”

“And then there is the matter of this!” The general waves at the CEO, who cues up a video. As the room around you gasps in shock, the kiss you’d shared with Yoongi fills the screen that makes up the wall behind the general. It’s a very close angle, shot from your point of view, but it’s very clear what is happening between the two of you.

“That was a distraction technique, sir–I had to keep the enemy engaged while I–”

He laughs derisively, indicating with a flicker of his fingers for the CEO to kill the video. “Oh, you certainly kept him engaged! You see this,” he turns to one of his colleagues, another crusty old man in a tacky uniform, “this is why we should stick to male superheroes only, because as soon as a woman is involved, all common sense flies out the window!”

A large hand lands on your tensed fist under the table. You glance at Namjoon, and he shakes his head slightly, gripping your wrist, silently urging you not to release the blast building in your palm. Taking a deep breath, you center yourself before reabsorbing the beam of energy rather than letting it fly loose in the sexist old windbag’s ugly face. 

“I can only apologize, sir,” you grit through your teeth. “I will do better on the next mission.” 

“I certainly hope you do. Because if your disappointing performance continues, you will be removed from active duty. Is that clear?”

“Crystal. Sir.” 

As the CEO continues the meeting, Namjoon turns to you, a muscle in his sharp jawline ticcing violently. “That motherfucker has no right to treat you like that. Are you okay?”

No, you’re not okay. You’re fucking livid. The nerve of that general, to question you! As if you haven’t devoted your life to this organization, giving up everything–family, career, love, everything–as soon as your powers emerged and made you a potential recruit. You never questioned your decision to join the team and become a superhero. 

But if this is how they’re going to repay your commitment and dedication, the literal blood, sweat, and tears you’ve shed for them… maybe you should. 

“No. But I don’t want to think about that ancient asshole and his condescending attitude any longer than I have to.” You frown. “Fuck, I need to blow off some steam.”

Namjoon sighs. “Blow off steam, huh? Bedroom or gym?”

“Both. Gym first. As soon as this meeting is over.” You pause. “Please.” 

Namjoon nods, hand squeezing your wrist again before he pulls it away.  

A roiling stream of thoughts churn through your brain as the meeting drags on. Most of them are worries about your glitching powers and what the company will do if they find out, but there's an image that keeps bubbling to the surface over and over - the one of you and Yoongi kissing. Thank god the general didn’t have any video of what happened between you and Hobi on the plane. 

And what about the look in Yoongi’s eyes when he’d saved you from that nasty bacteria?! You didn’t need any photos to remember that. Thinking about any of those moments makes your stomach eat itself. You try not to dwell on them, try to avoid thinking of the word for these feelings. If you give them a name, then you give them power.

How did it come to this? These men have committed unspeakable crimes. There’s no denying that. Yet at some point, you’ve gone from seeing them as simple shadows to real people. Complicated beings, flesh and blood, filled with every shade imaginable. Like the prism through which you view the world. 

As a superhero, you’ve no room for such nuance. 

Another exec speaks and you catch sight of yourself in the reflective glass walls. The face gazing back at you seems unfamiliar. It’s not just the unsettling evolution of your powers that has you worried. It feels like you are changing as well. And you’re not sure who it is you’re becoming.  

Namjoon tips his head towards you, and you immediately know what he’s going to say. “Listen, maybe you should go talk to Doc now? The general obviously noticed your powers fritzing, even if he didn’t say anything about them specifically, and if he noticed, then–”

“No. I told you, no one will understand.” And you don’t want to end up a lab rat. Not again. “Now please, just drop it, will you?” You never should’ve told him about what’s happening with your powers. The man wouldn’t shut up about it. You trust him not to tell anyone, but still, it’s getting annoying. Yeah, of course you’re concerned, especially since the weirdness has happened every time you’ve fought Yoongi and Hobi lately, but–

Wait. 

Wait.

Holy fucking shit, how did it take you this long to see it??

Quickly, you grab the pen and pad in front of you, the ones provided for you to take notes  (you’ve never written down a single word in any of these interminable meetings), and scribble down your epiphany. The subtle lift of Namjoon’s eyebrow confirms that he read your message. The jaw twitch means he’s ready to do some damage.

Those bastards. They’re messing with the wrong motherfucker.

Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3 💜 

© 2022-23 by sunshinerainbowsbts/minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost.

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[ally-holmes]

Regular Customer | Steve Harrington x Reader (ch.2)

Series Masterlist.

Chapter One -- Chapter Three.

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader|plus-sized!reader|nerd!reader

Word count: 3692

Regular Customer | Chapter Two.

Eddie walked into the kitchen wearing soft cotton clothes that were not his style, at all. Since he started his friendship with Y/N, she had stacked some clothing items for him to change into when he stayed at her place unannounced. The night before was full of emotions and she convinced him to change into more comfortable clothes while she washed the ones he was wearing. He had a few t-shirts and a couple of jeans that were more his style, but he wasn't allowed outside yet, so he didn't mind wearing some comfortable gray sweatpants and a pale blue sweatshirt. He found Y/N on the kitchen table surrounded by papers.

"Hi," he greeted softly.

"Eddie, hi," she smiled sweetly at him. Both of them showed signs of a very bad night. "I've been working on something."

Y/N walked him through her plan. She was going to frame Jason Carver for the murder of Chrissy Cunningham. He was known for losing his temper and being violent when someone was against his ideas; she knew there would be testimonies of people who had seen him act toxic towards his girlfriend. It was easy to frame him; he hated Eddie Munson, and if he'd seen his girl getting in the freak's van, Jason could've used the situation to frame him.

"It's still in process, but it will work."

"I don't know if I want someone innocent going through this, Y/N."

"We're not talking about throwing him under the bus, we're talking about giving a reasonable doubt. They might not be able to find proof that he's guilty, but they won't find proof to make you guilty either. The case will not sustain. I won't allow them to make you a monster."

"You sound bound and determined."

"I am pretty stubborn. I will protect my family no matter what and if I have to tell them I was the one who murdered Chrissy, I would."

The ferocity in her eyes made his eyes water. Eddie had never been protected with such strength. Blind trust was unfamiliar; he wasn't used to this. So, yeah, he cried and she hugged him.

They had some cereal for breakfast. After she was certain that Eddie would be fine alone in the house, she told him she was going to act normally in town to build her story.

She grabbed the tapes and got into her car. Her first stop was the library; she volunteered there from time to time, which made it easy for her to enter the records and put Jason's name as if he had taken books about demonic cults, activities, and murders. She'd read a lot of stories, including the one of Victor Creel, who assured his family was murdered by a demon there in Hawkins in a similar way Eddie had described. She made copies of the information and went to the high school building. Y/N was such a teacher's pet that she helped in administration. In other words, she opened Jason's locker without trouble and put the papers there.

With a jungle drum in her chest, Y/N felt the adrenaline running through her veins. She felt unstoppable. Entering Family Video, Y/N made a beeline to the counter in a hyper-vigilant state.

"Good morning, Steve. Robin. There, the movies."

"Hey! Y/N, you look better." Steve ran a hand through his hair with a smile.

She shrugged. "I guess."

"Is there anything you want to–"

"Oh my God! Isn't that the trailer park?" Robin asked, eyes glued to the TV screen that showed the news. "What the hell happened?"

Y/N felt the air leaving her lungs. They had found the body. Wayne had, probably, gone back home from work and found a dead girl, not a trace of his nephew. The poor guy must be terrified Eddie was murdered too, and the police– they wouldn't hesitate in blaming the boy. Y/N felt the bile going up her throat.

Dustin and Max burst into the store too, focused on their quest to pay attention to Y/N. Dustin jumped the counter, throwing everything to the floor, causing Steve and Robin to complain. The kid started to search for something on the computer and then she heard it, they were looking for Eddie.

She turned heel and ran out of the store.

"Wait. Wait. Are you looking for Eddie's friends?" Robin asked.

"Yes. He must need to hide somewhere. If we could–"

"No. No. I get that. But why aren't you going to the nerd club people's houses?" She interrupted him.

"They would call the police without a second thought."

"Fine. But, what if Max's right and Chrissy's death was related to the Upside Down, who would Eddie trust?"

"What?" The other three looked at her as if she had grown a second head.

"Who would Eddie go to if he had seen something crazy and hard to believe, something from another world?"

"Um… I don't know. Y/N's?"

Robin pointed to the door with both hands. "She was here just a second ago. And her parents aren't home. Eddie's with her, dingus."

"Shit."

*

Y/N drove as fast as she could. The police were too busy in the trailer park to care about traffic infractions right now. She was unable to hear anything else apart from her heartbeat; her breath was faster and faster until she parked inside her garage and pressed the button to close the gate with violence. Inside the house, Eddie was waiting for her.

A panic attack. That's what was hitting her. She hadn't had one in years!! It was a must for her to keep it together. Eddie needed her in one piece. Y/N threw water to her face in the washroom of the main floor before going down the stairs.

"Everything fine?"

"The police are at the trailer park. I think Wayne must've found the body," she whispered, terrified of watching him crumble before her eyes.

"Fuck! He must think I'm a mur–"

"No! Don't think like that about your uncle. Wayne loves you, Eddie. He must be terrified and in a few, I'm going to go talk to him. I might not tell him everything, but he needs to know you're safe."

"What did I do to deserve you?"

"Oh, honey, nobody deserves me," she winked at him cheekily.

While she was away, Eddie had changed clothes and burned down every cigarette he had on himself. On his run, he had ditched the van grabbing just the essentials from the back. Now that they were together again, he offered to cook something for lunch later on and she smiled at him.

The sound of a car in her driveway made them tense. She put a finger on her lips, begging him to be silent. Y/N grabbed a knife from the kitchen before answering the insistent doorbell ringing. She opened the door a few inches, enough to see the visit.

Dustin, Max, Robin, and Steve were waiting at her front door looking desperate and awkward.

"Shouldn't you two be working?" Y/N asked the older ones.

"Drop the niceties. We know Eddie's here. We're here to help," Dustin cut.

She painted the most charming smile on her face combined with a stern look in her eyes. "Why are you looking for Eddie here? He must be at his place."

"No. He's here," the kid insisted.

"Look, Y/N, we just want to help," Steve tried to sound persuasive.

"Leave. Please. Eddie's not here."

She was about to close the door when Max stopped her, "He didn't kill her. We know. We might know what killed Chrissy. We want to help."

They held the gaze in a tense silent dialog. Y/N sighed, opening the door all the way without letting them enter just yet. In a fast movement none of them could foresee, she'd grabbed Dustin by the collar and pushed him against the door frame; Steve moved instinctively to protect him, and she counted on that because the next thing he knew was that he had a sharp blade against his neck. Y/N wasn't looking at him. She was cowering Dustin with her height, an arm extended towards Steve with a knife held firmly.

"If you lie, you die. Understood?"

Y/N could tell they were taking her seriously; Dustin had never seen her like this and there was a hint of fear in his small eyes. He held up his hands in surrender.

"I swear over my mother."

"Over Dustin's mother," the others muttered.

She let them go relaxing her body and moving to the side; she didn't drop the knife. Closing the door behind them, she asked them to wait there before disappearing.

"What the hell was that?" Robin asked in whispers completely dumbfounded.

"It was badass," Max complimented.

"It was insane! In a good way. Shit, I didn't know she could be all ninja and stuff," Dustin added.

Steve was unable to form a coherent sentence. His body felt terribly warm and his knees were wobbly.

Not a minute after, she entered the hall with Eddie behind her. She seemed ready to slash their throats at the wrong word.

"You won't believe me. It's mental," Eddie moaned in pain.

"Try us."

After half an hour of explanations, not only about what happened to Chrissy but also about the Upside Down, the girl who used to have powers, and the monsters, Y/N finally left them in the living room and went to the kitchen. She put the kettle on.

Some knocking on the counter of the kitchen island made her turn. Steve was there with an awkward smile on his face.

"You've finally dropped the knife," he pointed out.

"For now."

"Are you alright?" He seemed truly concerned.

"I don't know. All I know is that the town will want Eddie's head on a silver platter and I won't allow it."

"If Hopper was here it would be much easier. He knew about all of this and he had an agreement with the government, you know."

"The freaks luck, isn't it? The only person who could help them is dead."

"We'll find a way."

Wasn't he cute? With his perfect hair, his big brown eyes, his concerned look, his wish to help… God! Why was it so hard to stop crushing on him? Steve didn't like her, and he never would; he'd said so himself.

Giving him her back so he couldn't read her pain, Y/N said "I'm working on it."

"What do you mean?"

"I have a plan. Tea? I don't have coffee, gives me migraine." She turned again with a fake smile on her face.

Steve sighed. He didn't know what was wrong with Y/N; he wasn't sure if he'd done something to upset her, so he couldn't apologize properly.

"We need to go to the trailer park. We might find a gate to the Upside Down. Some sort of opening that killed Chrissy," Dustin burst into the kitchen.

"It would be full of police we–" Steve started to complain, but Y/N cut him.

"I need to go there too. Maybe not right now, we can go tomorrow. Eddie'll stay here."

"The police might come here looking for him," Steve warned concern dripping from his voice.

"I'll take care of it."

She looked so determined that Steve found it very hard to stop looking at her and leaving her alone with Eddie Munson. He couldn't help feeling uneasy.

*

Y/N's car followed Steve's as he was getting closer to the trailer park when she had to stop. She saw how the four people in the car before hers got out. Thus so did she. She approached them in time to see Steve gesturing to Nancy Wheeler, who was talking to the police. Another body had been found.

"Are you going to wait for Nancy?" She asked.

"Yeah. She knows." Steve asked absently.

"Okay. See you later, I need to keep going."

"Y/N! Wait!" Dustin ran towards her and handed her a big walkie-talkie. "Use it to reach us in case you need it."

"Thank you, Dustin. Be careful."

"You too."

Y/N followed the police directions to get to the trailer park away from the crime scene. Wayne Munson was sitting under a big tree. His pale, concerned face lit up at the sight of his nephew's best friend.

"Wayne, I'm so sorry."

"Sweetheart, I don't know where he is but I assure you that he didn't do it. Eddie's a–"

"I know. Wayne," she held his calloused dry hands between hers, "he's safe."

The shadows in his eyes disappeared. Unable to contain himself, he hugged her tightly.

"God bless you, kid. You are an angel."

"He's scared. He ran because he knew how it looked and he knew no one would believe him. I'm working on it and I promise you that if Eddie has to leave the country I'll make sure he's safe."

Wayne couldn't recognize the woman before his eyes. He knew a cute shy girl that followed Eddie around and had some friendly banter with him; she wasn't that girl anymore. She was a strong woman ready to fight.

"Tell me if there's anything I can do."

"Pretend you don't know anything. Keep defending his innocence. I'm going to go to the police station to answer their questions before they decide to burst into my house. Don't worry too much, okay? He'll need you when all of this is over."

"Thank you," he kissed her hands in gratitude.

*

Hawkins Police Department was a stage and Y/N was a star.

She burst in fuming, cursing words demanding to see the idiot that was in charge of the Chrissy Cunningham murder. Of course, the town didn't know who had died yet, so they made her sit in a private office. She kept her act, yelling and shouting until officer Callahan entered with a cocky posture. Oh, she wasn't going to have any of it.

"Of course, they would give the case to an idiot like you. Of fucking course!"

"Hey, L/N, some respect to a police officer!"

"You got drunk and swam in our pool naked, Callahan."

"Unimportant. Are you friends with Eddie Munson?"

"Yes. Everybody knows I'm friends with him. Are you serious? Never mind, shut up and listen." He wasn't very pleased with her command. "Why the fuck is Jason Carver organizing a witch hunt against Eddie? Huh? The asshole frames Eddie and you all play along. Are you really that dumb?"

"That's a very strong accusation."

"Do I have to do your work for you? Chrissy's body was broken, wasn't it? Arms, legs, face… everything."

"How do you know that?"

Y/N put a copy of Victor Creel's story on the desk in front of Callahan. "It's the same that Victor Creel did. He assured it was the devil's work and Carver is claiming that the Hellfire Club is some sort of evil cult. Dude! We play a stupid fantasy board game! Oh, and before you ask, I found out about this because I do know how to do police work, unlike someone I know. I went to the library and looked into the records, I could find a list of titles Jason Carver had consulted. There you go." She put another piece of paper on the desk. "You could confirm it if you go to the library. By the way, the next step should be looking in his house and his lockers. Both, the corridor one and the gym one. He has killed two people and he's framing Eddie because he hates him."

"How do you know it was Jason Carver?"

"How do you know it was Eddie Munson, asshole? Have you asked where Jason Carver was on Friday after the game? No? I did. He hasn't been at home, that's for sure. Where's his alibi? And if you say 'with his teammates' let me tell you that those kids would say the sky is red just to not cross Carver. Have you talked to Chrissy's friends? They would tell you that she and Carver weren't the golden couple people thought; she wasn't happy with him and Lucy Knight claims that she's seen him hitting Chrissy once. Her mother was there too, in case you want the testimony of an adult. He is a privileged, white, rich, and popular boy that thinks that he can do anything he wants and he loses his temper more often than not. He had hit his teammates at least once. Now, if you take all the evidence and ignore it, let me promise you that the press would be my next stop."

"Let's pretend I believe you. The girl was in Munson's trailer."

"Callahan, are you stupid?"

"Y/N L/N!!"

"Chrissy had been having a rough week. I've seen her talking with the counselor often and crying in the washrooms. She was down and asked Eddie for something to calm her nerves. I'm going to pretend you're not as ridiculously stupid as you've been showing and I'm going to assume you know that Eddie sells weed. After the game, she went with him because of that. I know because we had a Hellfire Club reunion that ended around that time. Next thing I know, Carver is claiming Eddie's a murderer."

"Fine. Where's Eddie then? If he's innocent, why did he run?"

"I don't know!! That's why I'm here!! Eddie's missing and you don't care. You're looking for him like he's some sort of serial killer. What if Carver has him? Eddie could be dead for all I know!! And here you are being a complete asshole!!" And for the closure scene, some tears.

Oh, but Y/N didn't just cry; she sobbed, collapsing in the chair. She let it all out. All her frustration. All her fear. She'd been accumulating pain for the last week, and she allowed the tears to finally fall. Her body trembling, her breath shaking, she cried like a child for so long that she ended up tired with blood spots under her eyes.

When she made it to the car, Dustin's voice came annoyed from the walkie.

"Hello? Is anybody there? Nancy? Y/N? Robin? Code red. I repeat. Code red."

"I'm here, Dustin."

"Fucking finally! Something happened, we're going to the high school."

"Copy that. See you there."

*

Knowing about Max being the next victim was awful, but, at the same time, was great for the story Y/N was building against Carver. She knew the guy was actually a racist, and knowing that Lucas Sinclair was both on the team and on the freaks show was the motive Carver could've needed to mark Max as his next victim. While they shared information, Y/N gathered a few more pieces she needed and put them in Carver's locker in the gym. It was important to not put everything in the same place.

When Nancy started to talk about Victor Creel, Y/N scrunched her nose.

"You could've asked."

"What do you mean?"

"I knew about Creel's incident. I have the exact same copies you have there. I'm a volunteer at the library and I read a lot. Anyway, I'm using that story to frame Carver of the murders."

"You what?" Lucas was shocked.

"We can't clean Eddie's name, can we? What should we do? Should we hunt one of those Demogorgons, cut their head, and throw it in Callahan's face? How are they going to believe us?"

"But Jason's innocent."

"He's dangerous, and you know it. Let's be real here, the police won't be able to link the murders to either Eddie or Jason, but they already think Eddie's guilty. The doubt is enough for any lawyer to stop the prosecution."

"Still, that's a dangerous game you're playing," Nancy didn't seem pleased with Y/N's plan.

Y/N shrugged, "I'll do anything to protect my family and as I said to Eddie if I have to confess the murder myself I'll do it."

"That's ridiculous!!" Steve was the loudest in expressing his opinion.

"Let's just hope we don't need it, alright?"

None of them were pleased with Y/N's plan, but Max's safety was more important at the time. They decided she needed to be monitored and the basement of the Wheelers was the reunion point they agreed on. Y/N decided that the sting on her chest was unrequited; it was obvious that Nancy and Mike had been involved with the magical stuff since the beginning and that's why they decided to go there instead of the completely empty house of Y/N.

Before she could get into her car and leave, Steve opened the door for her.

"Have you been crying?"

The fact that he noticed made her feel warm all over. "Yeah, I was talking to the police. I know no one understands why I'm framing Jason, but I know what I'm doing. The town won't condemn him, he's too much like them."

"I understand. Truly. I never thought I'd lived a conspiracy like the one to kill JFK."

"Should I apply for a CIA job?"

"Definitely," he laughed. He was nervous now that she was looking him in the eyes again. "I'm going to babysit again. Are you coming to Nancy's?"

"I think Max has enough bodyguards. Eddie needs at least one, don't you think?"

"Right. Maybe we should go to your house. It would be easier than lying to the Wheelers."

"Perhaps. I think we should lay low. Your parents are home and if they see too many people in my house they might get noisy."

"Right. Again. Sorry. Umm… yeah. Well, then, see you tomorrow?"

"Give me a call with the walkie if you need me."

"Bring your knives."

She smiled at him entering the car. Steve closed the door for her and walked to his car, muttering under his breath; he looked over his shoulder and made an awkward gesture toward her. Why was he being so damn cute?

"Fuck. I'm in love with that idiot." Y/N told herself.

To be continued...

Taglist: @marvelsmylife

#stranger things #steven harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson #fem reader #stranger things season 4 #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington series

[ifhymona]

٭* Not Too Late *٭

Chapter 6 | chino moreno x reader

chapter 5 ~ chapter 7 | AO3

1.2k words

life has been super busy lately. the band is working on their sophomore album. they wanted to tease the album by playing a few songs at the gig coming up. i’m not sure on what name they’ve decided on but so far, i just know it’s gonna be a hit!

i wish i could listen to them practice but i’ve been working on making sure we have enough cds and vinyls to sell, making eps to tease some of their new album and making t-shirts. i didn’t mind the work load though. it was better than being in my room all day.

stephen ended up getting a cold, of course when we have a busy schedule. so chino just told everybody to practice on their own to try and perfect their sound isolated.

i kept on with my very busy day though. i did drop off stephen some soup, just to check in on how he was doing. i didn’t have to but stephen’s my friend and i like doing nice things for people.

after i dropped off his soup, abe paged me.

‘call me.’ i wonder what this is about. i walked to my nearest pay phone just two blocks away and dialed abe’s number.

he picked up. “y/n! what are you doing today?”

“oh just busy with making merchandise for the show. why what’s up?”

“well since you’re busy, i was thinking maybe you’d want some help?”

“i mean are you sure? you don’t have to.”

“i’m sure. plus how am i gonna be in the band and not see all the behind the scenes.” he laughed.

“well meet me at this place” i give him the address.

“i’ll see you there.” he smiled.

~

“so what are we going to do today?” the room we were in was fairly small but luckily it was just me and abe. there were four screen printing machines and a table off to the side with a few chairs. there was also a fridge and a microwave on a light stand. the fluorescent lights really brought this room all together.

“well we’re going to use these screen printers to make the t-shirts. i have to make a few calls with the record label about buying cds and stuff in bulk to sell.”

“how much are you trying to buy?” i bring out a box of medium white t-shirts onto the table.

“well i hoping for around 250 cds 250 records and 250 cassettes.”

“and how much will that cost?” he gulped.

i chuckled. “you don’t need to know.”

i think he was processing how much money that would cost us. “well, chop chop. we got a lot of t-shirts to make.” i clapped my hands together and got started with work.

~

after a few calls discussing money with the the record label, i was able to start helping abe with some t-shirts.

“so, how long have you and chino known each other?” abe asked.

“chino and my brother were friends in middle school. they were a year ahead of me but i still hung around them whenever chino would come over. in high school me and chino started hanging out together without my brother and we had some good times. then we just fell out my sophomore year.” i sighed.

“yeah i remember when that happened. chino would talk about you all the time!” he rolled his eyes. “oh, y/n never called! how could she? why won’t she just talk to me?” he mocked chino pouting his face.

i laughed. did chino really talk about me? it was hard for me to believe abe. i can’t imagine myself as a conversation topic. let alone someone chino would bring up often.

“chino would talk about you from time to time but he never introduced us to you. we’d see you around at school because we’d catch chino looking at you.” he laughed out loud. “i didn’t realize you were the same girl when you came in to be interviewed.”

“yeah and i didn’t realize chino was gonna be my co-worker for a job i applied for.” i sighed. “i’m sure he moved on after a few months.”

abe scoffed. “yeah right! anytime we’d kickback and smoke and drink together, somehow at the end of the night, your name was always brought up. even after graduation, he talked about you every so often. sometimes during practice, his voice even suffered. we would have to end days short so he could clear his thoughts and get back on track. even now he talks about things you two did before you stopped talking.”

“no way. you don’t have to lie to me.” i looked away. why would he talk about me? he had no reason to.

“i’m being serious! he has like a secret obsession with you or something.” he smirked. i blushed thinking about chino. what is going on with me always thinking about chino?

“anyways i’m glad you two made up. chino’s always sounded really good but i think since you’ve been around he’s been really pushing to be perfect.”

“if that is the case, i’m glad he is. you guys are honestly my favorite band at the moment.” i said, putting my hand over my heart.

“thanks y/n. i really appreciate that.” he smiled.

“enough about me. what’s it like being the coolest drummer ever?” i smirked.

“i love it! i never thought i would be a drummer for a popular band. it’s so riveting to be up on stage playing the drums. seeing all the fans show up to see us is what gets me pumped!” he shook his fist.

“i bet! i’m excited to see you guys play live!” i enthused.

he let out an audible gasp. “i totally forgot you haven’t seen us play live! you’re gonna love it.” he looked around, despite it being just us. he covered his mouth like he was telling a secret. “don’t say anything but we just decided on a name for the album. we’re naming it around the fur!” he grinned.

“around the fur.” i repeated then smiled. “i love it! it has a nice ring to it.”

“i know right! we’re even going to go on tour after the release of our album.”

“shut up! that’s so cool! it’s gonna be so much fun abe!” i started thinking about going on tour with them. how much fun it would be to go on a tour bus all across the country. meeting all their fans and seeing them perform countless times. i’d get to create memories with them that i’d never forget.

we continued to enthuse about the tour and the album while making t-shirts.

~

we spent five and a half hours making loads of t-shirts and talking the whole time. i’m really glad i got to spend this time with abe. he told me stories from his childhood and the early days of the band. i told him more about me and my past. we both enthused about topics we were both interested in like music and clothing brands and magazines. he even told me what it was like going on tour with other artists like korn and ozzy osbourne.

“thanks for helping me today abe. next time you want to help, let me know! i can always use it.” i smiled.

“no problem y/n! it was cool hanging out with you. it’s refreshing to hang out with someone new.” he smiled.

a/n: i hope you guys enjoyed this chapter ! i just wanna clarify, in case anyone is confused, abe and y/n are purely platonic. so don’t go thinking a love triangle is forming bc there’s not. they’re just gonna be an iconic duo 😘 anyways new chapter will be up next week ! lots of love <3

#deftones #chino moreno #chino moreno x reader #chino x reader #abe cunningham #chi cheng #stephen carpenter #nu metal #bands #music #mall goth #goth #emo #alternative #grunge #metal head #1990s #1990s nu metal #90s aesthetic

[pennielane]

how to make gifs for free*

*okay, for $5. which is far less than what you would pay for photoshop!

this is my tutorial for people who want to make gifs but do not want to pay the steep monthly fee for photoshop. i feel especially qualified to make this tutorial because i did pay for the monthly photoshop fee a few months ago and honestly, i hated the process of making gifs on photoshop. it was extremely onerous and also cost a lot of money? no thanks! now, are gifs made on photoshop typically better quality than gifs made through free services? yes, but only marginally. and, to me, the slightly-higher quality gifs do not make up for: (a) the cost of photoshop, and (b) the ease of the free-gif making process. it will seem like there are a lot of steps below, but i promise it will all become like second nature soon enough.

BEFORE WE PROCEED: this tutorial is tailored towards the apple ecosystem. however, i’m sure most of the steps in here also apply to windows computers; i’m just not totally sure since i don’t have one.

without further ado, click below to follow the tutorial!

STEP 1: purchase gif brewery 3

this is the only stage where you will need to spend money - this app is integral to the process of creating gifs for free. i have tried out many different giffing apps, and this one is by far the best. it’s called “gif brewery 3 by gyfcat” and you can get it on the app store:

STEP 2: download or screen record your video

now that you’ve got your giffing software downloaded, you’re going to download your video in an .mp4 format. 

downloading: i typically download from youtube or vimeo. for youtube downloads, you simply copy the link and paste it into a “youtube to mp4″ converter, which you can find through a simple google search of “youtube to mp4″ (a lot of these sites often get taken down and new ones pop up, so don’t get attached to a specific site because it’ll probably be gone like, 4 days later lmfao). for vimeo, i typically google “vimeo video downloader” and a few websites will pop up. 

screen recording: there are a few different screen recording extensions you can add to google chrome, and i’ve tinkered with those in the past. however, recently i’ve been using the built-in macbook screen record function, which can be brought up by pressing command + shift + 5. once that’s brought up, you can change the size of your recording area, click record, and then save the video to your desktop. note that there IS a screen record option built into gif brewery, but i have never used it so i can’t speak to its functionality. 

STEP 3: add your video to gif brewery

now that you’ve either: (a) downloaded your video from youtube/vimeo or (b) screen recorded your video and saved it on your computer; you’re now going to add the video to gif brewery and get giffing! this is where the fun part starts.

1. open up gif brewery and select “open video”

2. head into your computer and find the video you have downloaded/recorded, and select “open”

3. drag the green and red bars to the areas of your video where you want your gif to start and end. i’m using a video i giffed last week as an example:

4. click on “settings” in the top righthand corner to bring up this panel:

5. this is a VERY important step to ensure that your gifs turn out all right. you’ll want to change the settings in the above panel to something like this:

as you can see, i typically use 25 fps as this helps the gifs flow and not look choppy. some videos, though, work better with 20 fps (this is something you’ll get a sense for when you make a lot of gifs). i typically bring the speed down to between 70-90%, as 100% speed always feels too fast to me. and then i ALWAYS optimize the gif colours to 256. yes, even for black and white gifs.

an interlude about gif sizes: you’ll note that in the above picture, the frame count says “79″. if your gif is larger than say, 600px wide, 79 fps will probably have you producing a decently large gif. keep in mind that tumblr does not allow gifs to be over 10mb, so you’ll need to adjust accordingly. you can apply these settings and then go back and re-adjust those green and red lines from before to shorten your gif to ensure that it adheres to the size requirements of tumblr. also keep in mind that the editing process will add (sometimes significantly) to the size of your gif. so you want to aim for your gif to be well under 10mb at this stage. for small gifs, i don’t limit my fps too much, but for bigger gifs (i.e. ones that are over 600px wide), i will try to limit my fps to under 50. just keep that in mind as a barometer.

6. once you’re happy with your settings, click “create”

7. clicking “create” will bring up a window which will showcase your gif, as well as your gif size (see red circle):

at this stage, i’ll often click the “cancel” button in the lower lefthand corner and fiddle with the gif, as my gif sizes at this stage are typically enormous. this is actually a rare example where the gif is well under 10mb. however, for this gif i would crop the black edges out and probably re-size it down a bit to have it further below 5 mb (this video is far too low quality to produce a gif that’s as high as 5mb. this will vary, though, depending on the quality/size of the video).

8. so, clicking “cancel” above, i am going to crop and resize the gif:

- when you click on “crop”, this window will come up where you can adjust the size of your crop:

when you crop it to where you’re happy with it (if you need to crop your gif, that is), you’ll likely want to resize your gif:

when you click the “resize” button, the dimensions of your gif will pop up:

a second interlude about gif sizes: okay. here’s the thing about using a software that isn’t photoshop to make gifs. the quality of your gifs will likely suffer, compared to gifs processed through photoshop. through trial and error, i have learned that i have to make my gifs slightly bigger than the standard tumblr sizes in order for their quality to hold up. it has something to do with pixel compression, which i don’t need to go into right now. i have also learned that low resolution videos (like the one i’m using in this example, which frankly looks like it was filmed using a toaster) should almost never be used for full-sized gifs. instead, the quality of these gifs from a low-resolution video will look much better as half-sized, side-by-side gifs in a two, four, six, or eight-gif pattern (god, does that make sense? message me if it doesn’t). standard tumblr sizes are, i think, 540px wide for a full-sized gif, and 270px wide for a half-sized gif. AS SUCH, i typically make my full-sized gifs around 700px wide, to enhance the quality of them once they’re put into tumblr. yes, this means your gifs will have a higher MB output, which means your gifs will need to be shorter than those that could be made through photoshop. these are the struggles we face as Free Gif Makers, however it is worth it to me.

alright, as you can see above, after i’ve cropped the black edges out, this gif is 493x360px. so, it’s under the 540px requirement for a tumblr full-sized gif. the GOLDEN rule of gif-making is to NEVER use a gif that is under 540px wide as a full-sized gif. the gif will be stretched and will lose a lot of quality in the process. however, 493px wide is still well-above the 270px wide standard size for a side-by-side gif. i am going to size this down slightly to 350px wide (remember, we want to be well above the 270px wide standard size, as described above) so my total MBs will be smaller. 

9. now that i’ve cropped and resized, my gif is now only 2.7mb:

i like this a lot better than the 5mb before, as it gives me more wiggle room in the editing process. i’m happy with it now, so i will click “save...” and save it to my desktop for editing now. 

STEP 4: repeat step 3 for all the gifs you want to make for that specific gifset

i am going to make two gifs to demonstrate to you the side-by-side gif thing i was talking about above. these are the gifs at this stage, pre-editing:

STEP 5: add your gifs to photopea to begin the editing process

once you’ve created all your gifs in gif brewery 3, you can close the app. for editing the gifs, i use photopea desktop. photopea is basically a walmart photoshop, and i think it works really well considering it’s free. 

1. click file > open

2. locate your gifs that you save from gif brewery

3. now is the actually fun part. this is where you can fiddle with the brightness, exposure, temperature, etc., and/or you can add a psd or two to your gif. i almost exclusively use PSDs and then will fiddle with the brightness/contrast/levels/curves/temperature/sharpening/grain on my own after i’ve applied the PSD. i’ve found all the PSDs i use here. that blog should also have tutorials on how to download a PSD. a PSD is basically a file folder with elements in it which will enhance the colouring/lighting of your gif. PSDs are EXTREMELY trial and error when it comes to working with a certain gif or not, so be patient as you try out PSDs on your gifs. when you download a PSD, you will add the file to photopea (file > open > find the PSD and add it), and then drag it on top of all the layers of your gif, like so:

a note on manually adding brightness/contrast/temperature/sharpening/grain, etc.: you must select all the layers in your gif for these edits to apply these changes, so they all must be highlighted like the below:

a note on sharpening/grain: adding sharpening/grain to a gif without being careful will HUGELY add to the size of the gif, and will often push it well over tumblr’s 10mb size limit. sharpening can also make your gifs look very bad if you go overboard. i often either don’t sharpen my gifs at all, or am very careful when i do. i always choose smart sharpen (as opposed to “sharpen”, which just adds a shitload of sharpening without you being able to adjust the amount), as i can adjust the sharpening elements with smart sharpen. to find the sharpen tool, go to filter > sharpen > smart sharpen:

these are the properties i sometimes choose for sharpening. however remember that most of the time i don’t even sharpen my gifs, OR i will do 50% instead of 100%. but i am going to use these properties for the gifs i’m making for this tutorial. you can typically be a bit more liberal with sharpening when you’re making smaller side-by-side gifs, as there is more room for the extra MBs added from sharpening:

the properties you choose for sharpening will ultimately totally depend on the gifs you’re making, so don’t be afraid to fiddle around with them! i wouldn’t recommend going over 150%, though.

now, grain is something i hardly use in my gifs, as grain adds even MORE to the file size of a gif than sharpening does. however, sometimes it’s cool to have a bit of grain in your gif, so this is what i would do.

locate grain, which is found in filer > noise > add noise:

use this percentage:

unless your gif is super tiny, anything above 2-3% grain will make your file size extremely massive. use grain with caution!

STEP 5.1: adding text to your gifs

if you want to add text to your gifs, read this step. if you don’t, skip to step 6. 

the most common font used with gifs on tumblr is calibri bold italic. photopea does not have calibri built in, so you will need to download it from an external source like here and then add the font into photopea. you will likely have to add it in every single time you make a gif, which is mildly annoying, but yet another tribulation of making Gifs For Free:

1. select the “T” icon on the left sidebar:

2.select the font bar which will appear up top, and then click “load font”

3. locate the calibri font file that you’ve downloaded in your computer and add it in. i suggest adding it in via zip file, because the zip file will include all of the different versions of calibri (i.e. bold/italic/bold italic, etc.). once you’ve loaded it in, search for it in the photopea font list and select it:

4. select bold italic

5. use these properties for the stroke (the outline of the font) and drop shadow (these are the only two elements i add to my fonts):

this is what your text should look like (sorry, it’s all pixelated because i had to zoom in):

you can adjust the size of the font as necessary and drag the text around to make sure it aligns with the centre of your gif (i’m not actually going to be using text for these gifs, but i wanted to show you because it does add a handful of extra steps)

STEP 6: save your gifs

once you’re done adding your PSDs/manually editing your gifs, you’re going to save them by going file > export as > gif:

here, you will see a preview of your gif, as well as the MB total in the bottom right hand corner:

note how our gif went up to 4.8mb from 2.7mb after we originally saved it from gif brewery? that is almost entirely from the sharpening we added to the gif, and that is actually a pretty small increase; typically file size increases are much greater than that if you’ve sharpened your gif, especially with coloured gifs (black and white gifs inherently have smaller file sizes due to the lack of colour).

also note the “speed” bar - sometimes if i feel like my gif is still too fast, i’ll reduce that 100% to 80-90%.

if your file size limit is under 10mb and you’re pleased with your gif, click “save”

STEP 7: upload to tumblr

click photo > upload photos > and add your gifs. now, this is what i meant by the “half-size, side-by-side” gifs:

now, to add a caption with smaller font and smaller spaces between lines, you need to go into the HTML of your caption, which can be done by clicking the gear icon in the top right corner of your gifset and selecting HTML:

this is a sample HTML caption code. you can learn the principles of HTML by googling it, or just deducing it from the below:

and this is what that code looks like:

you can also add colour to your captions by adding a code into your HTML from this website

STEP 8: click post!

congrats! if you’ve made it to the end of this tutorial, you’ve successfully created a gif for *almost* free. i really do promise that this all becomes really fast and like second nature once you get the hang of it!

please feel free to shoot me a message if you have any questions at all! 🤍

- xoxo, caro, aka pennie

#holy mother this was a lot more work than anticipated #but it was fun! #please message me if you have any questions #i mean it! #i feel like this got very convoluted at times - especially discussing gif sizes - so plz message me if you need anything cleared up #gif tutorial #mine #giffing #gifs #tutorial