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cheolbooluvr · 2 years

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the social club - chapter one

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pairing: svt x fem!reader

genre: murder mystery, angst

word count: 4.4k

warnings: murder, graphic depictions and mentions of death, nausea, grief, swearing, rich ass motherfuckers

a/n: okay nice ! we're finally starting to get the ball rolling here :D thank you to all my beta readers, you guys were awesome *claps hands* i don't rly have too much to say other than i hope y'all enjoy this!! and also PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS HOLY IN THIS WORLD *gets on knees* PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK IN MY ASK BOX OR IN THE TAGS OR WHATEVER JUST P L E A S E *ahem* okay. yeah. enjoy :D

social club masterlist

my main masterlist ＼ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ／

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↤ prologue

In all your years of living, never had you wanted to be more… unalive. Perhaps not dead, necessarily (and perhaps it was too soon to be using that word), but just nonexistent.

You were never the type to really prefer or enjoy the spotlight and some might call you a “wallflower,” someone who hangs on the periphery of social circles, and moves through life without being seen. Though never perceived often, if at all, a wallflower can be extremely observant if they choose to be.

That also wasn’t you.

You were the kind of person who kept your eyes glued to the floor, only ever opting to take the road less traveled because the road less traveled meant less people. And less people meant less sets of eyes to look at… well, you. When you first transferred to the Academy, you had hoped that maybe you could finish out your high school years quietly, but as your luck would have it, they put you in a dorm with the most popular girl in school: Lee Hyeyoon.

Now, Hyeyoon was the exact opposite of you—she was a small petite girl with skin so smooth you might mistake it as “real-life photoshop,” and she had long, black hair that was as dark as the night. She was bright and bubbly, and the kind of person you might avoid at all costs because girls like her were usually mean. And despite your mom always telling you to expect the unexpected, you certainly didn’t expect to become friends with Hyeyoon, and even more than that, best friends.

To say that Hyeyoon changed your life would be an understatement. She helped you discover a love for fashion and style that you never knew existed because all you did was wear boring (albeit designer) tan and plaid uniforms. She dragged you to social events and introduced you to a plethora of people, and even if you couldn’t remember their names, at least you could recognize their faces when you passed by each other in the hallway. Being friends with Hyeyoon naturally meant being in the spotlight by association because that was where she always was, and actually, you were starting not to mind it at all, and maybe even enjoy it a little bit.

However, now, this time was different. If you were starting not to mind having eyes on you before, you definitely minded now. Every time you took a step down the long hallways, it was as if a new pair of eyes turned to look at you—some looked on with pity and sadness while others looked on with confusion and questions. Could you blame them? After all, your best friend and roommate was dead (there’s that word again), and nobody knew how or why.

Today was your first day back in classes as you had spent the last week or so laying in bed, barely eating or drinking water until Jihoon, Hyeyoon’s twin brother, came knocking to check in on you.

“Welcome back,” your homeroom teacher greeted with a small nod that was paired with yet another set of pitiful eyes. You pressed your lips into a thin line, unsure if your attempt at a smile was successful. As you made your way to your desk, your classmates looked on, trying their best not to stare, but you could feel their gaze glued to you like onlookers watching a car crash.

Fucking rubbernecks.

You removed your backpack and slipped it onto the chair, a physical relief on your body though the aching pain of grief still weighing heavy on your chest. Sitting down, you pulled out your textbook and opened it, trying to skim through the chapters you had missed though your eyes just glazed over and your vision turned blurry.

You wanted to look.

You wanted to look, but you couldn’t. Next to you was a mahogany table, identical to yours, right by the big window, the books and pens inside untouched, and…an empty chair. An empty chair that shouldn’t have been empty, but was nonetheless.

That feeling you had felt when you had first learned of Hyeyoon’s death suddenly returned, and it was as if someone was slowly stabbing knives into your heart, but as they went on the knives became duller. You couldn’t help the overwhelming sense of guilt that washed over you the longer you looked at the empty space where your friend should have been, a part of you wondering if this was all your fault.

You were snapped out of your thoughts to the sound of your name coming from your teacher. Without realizing, class had ended and you had been sitting there staring blankly out the window. He had been calling your name for a while now, but to no avail. Only after the fourth or fifth time did you break your gaze to find him standing at the front with concern plastered all over his face.

“The headmaster would like to see you,” he told you before turning around to erase the things he had written on the chalkboard to which you realized you had missed an entire lecture’s worth of notes. He was leaning over your desk now, trying to check if you were okay which you obviously weren’t. “Please,” he went on, “let us know if you ever need anything.”

You offered him the same half-assed smile from before, but nothing he, or anyone for that matter, did would bring Hyeyoon back from the dead. You organized your papers and binders into a neat pile before shoving them into your backpack, the feeling of zipping it up somewhat unfamiliar after not having done it for a week. Your bag had remained untouched and you were sure there were several missing assignments that you had to turn in, but none of your teachers had mentioned anything to you. How could they? Everyone in this school knew of your relationship to the deceased, and to force you to do something as meaningless as a history essay was just inhumane. Despite being at the top academy in the country, at least your teachers had a heart. You were thankful for this as you made your way past the crowds of people, their ogling becoming somewhat familiar now.

The headmaster’s office sat at the end of a long hallway, dark grey exposed brick walls were covered with ancient photos of former headmasters and notable alumni, some you recognized and some you knew the names of but only because they had been mentioned during assemblies or events. Maroon banners with gold embroidery touted the school’s motto, “Scholarship and Integrity of the Highest Honor!” You couldn’t help but scoff, knowing full well that some of these kids were spending Daddy’s™ money on adderall and xanax just to get by. You admittedly considered trying some when nights became too long and you found your nose buried in your laptop, the blue light ruining your vision the longer you stared at it. But as a scholarship student, if you were caught, the consequences for you were dire—for the other kids, it was a slap on the wrist, maybe detention or community service because their parents were on the board of trustees (read: $$$)—but for you, it meant not only being removed from the school, but also expulsion. You simply couldn’t let that happen, not after everything your parents went through to get you into this school in the first place. They worked too hard at their little fried chicken shop, slaving over hot oil and scorching kitchens and tending to customers hand and foot to let you have this opportunity. So, yeah, that’s why you didn’t deal with shit like that, and you just toughed it out, opting for sleepless nights, constant migraines, and torturous suffering because, well, maybe you hated yourself a little.

But Hyeyoon, she was your light in this hellhole, someone who would remind you to take breaks, get you water and food when you yourself would forget. There would be nights when you’d come back to the dorms at three or four o’ clock to find a glass of water and aspirin by your bedside table with an encouraging note written on her cute stationery with dogs on it.

She was your guardian angel.

And now she was gone.

As you neared the giant birch doors that led into the headmaster’s office, you saw that one of the doors was slightly cracked open. Unsure if that was an invitation for you to enter, you poked your head near it but stopped when you heard hushed voices come from inside.

“It’s been over a week and we still don’t know anything.”

“I said I’d handle it.” You recognized this voice as the headmaster’s, a sort of gravelly yet shrill tone that you had heard countless times before.

“How? By brushing it under the rug to save your reputation? Your daughter died and you’re just going to sit back and say that you’re ‘handling’ it? You deserve the father of the year award.”

“Who the hell do you think you are?” The headmaster’s voice boomed, followed by a loud sound similar to skin hitting skin. “I cannot believe you are my son.”

“Likewise,” the other voice rebutted.

Suddenly the door shot wide open and you were met by a familiar face: Jihoon’s.

His furrowed eyebrows relaxed a bit, his enraged face melting into one of confusion and surprise to see you standing outside his father’s office. However, that expression didn’t last long as the anger returned and he stormed off without acknowledging you any further. Despite being your best friend’s twin brother, you had never really talked to Jihoon much. He and Hyeyoon were very different—where Hyeyoon always had her head in the clouds, Jihoon was always rooted in the ground, very cold and pragmatic, teetering on the boundary of realist and pessimist. A part of you wondered if maybe he would have been more of a social recluse if not for the rest of his family’s social standings (his mother being a wealthy socialite herself). Most of what you knew about him had been through stories you heard from Hyeyoon, how when they were little, he often made her cry because he would shoot down her big ideas and as they grew up, their only commonality was their quiet disdain for their father.

If you were being honest, a small part of you initially resented him and how fast he seemingly moved on, having returned to class just days after her body had been discovered and continuing on with his role in the Social Club as the treasurer. Meanwhile, you were bedridden, sick to your stomach, vomit threatening to crawl up your esophagus at any point in time while he was probably laughing with his buddies about what ridiculously expensive items they would buy for the next event.

Yet, after overhearing his conversation with his father, you realized that maybe he wasn’t okay, that he had been suffering just as much as you, if not more. Clearly, he was more upset than he was letting on and surely he knew something that you didn’t. It was settled. Tomorrow, you would talk to Jihoon and ask if he’d want to help you in figuring out what happened to Hyeyoon.

The sound of Headmaster Lee clearing his throat brought you back to reality. The man was small and stout, much like his son, though less muscley and more wrinkly—you could certainly see the resemblance that ran in the family. He had moved standing from his previous spot by the window and now sitting in the leather chair behind his oak wood desk on which he placed his elbows, clasping his hands together and looking at you through his wire-rimmed glasses.

Clearing his throat once more, he said your name with a certain firmness, the hairs on your arms standing up as you anxiously awaited the words that would come out of his mouth. “As you know, being a scholarship student is an…impressive feat. Clearly you have been able to work hard and earn your way into this school,” he spoke, though a part of you had a bad feeling about the direction this conversation would go. He continued, “But of course once you’re here, it doesn’t mean you can stop working hard. You understand that right?”

You nodded, unsure of where he was going with this.

“I understand the… incident… from this past weekend was traumatic for you, and we want to give you the time you need to grieve.” You weren’t sure how the headmaster could be so indifferent right now. If anything, he should have been grieving now, but just like Jihoon, he came straight to work that following Monday, completely unfazed. Guess it ran in the family, huh? “However, you need to attend class and maintain the 3.75 GPA minimum if you wish to keep your scholarship.”

Fuck off, is what you wanted to say, but instead, your head just moved back and forth in acknowledgement. You ended up zoning out for the rest of the meeting because honestly, whatever the headmaster had to say, it just wasn’t important. Now, all you could think about was what Jihoon had been saying to his father earlier.

“Do you have any questions?” he finally finished.

“Headmaster Lee,” you cut in suddenly, “Have… have you heard any news about Hyeyoon?”

An exasperated sigh left his lips and you were sure it was because he was reminded of the conversation he’d had with his son just moments before you came in. There was a long pause as he scrambled to find the right words to say. He sighed again, this time his shoulders dropping and his eyes turning elsewhere. “Just worry about your grades for now. If you need counseling, you know our counselor is available to scholarship students as well, right?”

Another nod.

“Okay, well let’s worry about the things we can control, okay? I trust that you’ll have no problems catching up, but if you do, please let me know if there is anything I can do to help.”

It might help if you tell me what happened to my best friend, asshole. With that, you pressed your lips into a tight line—your attempt to seem pleasant—stood up from the hardwood chair that your ass had been stuck in for the last however many painstaking minutes, and you left his office, feeling his stare burn into your back like lasers.

———

You found your eyes glazing over as you stared at the forest green chalkboard, whatever notes your calculus teacher had written turning into a dusty white mess by now. It was hard to focus on school (not that you’d had much luck with that recently anyway) now that you were thinking about what to say to Jihoon. As soon as class ended, you would find him and talk. But… talk about what, exactly? What would his reaction be to you proposing to him that you wanted to dig into his sister’s death? Surely, based on the conversation you accidentally overheard with his father, he’d have to say yes, right?

“Absolutely not.”

“But Jihoon—”

You felt his fingers constrict around your arm as he pulled you close to him, his lips ghosting over your ear. “I don’t know what you’re up to, but stay out of my family’s business.”

You wanted to fight him, to tell him that she wasn’t just his family, but yours, too. Maybe not by blood, but certainly by choice, and that should have been enough to qualify you to know what happened. But given his stone cold expression as he pulled away to look you in the eyes, you could tell that he didn’t think of you as anyone but a friend, maybe even just a roommate. He loosened his grip around you before shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his trousers, turning to return to the club.

Oh, that’s right.

For a moment, you had forgotten you were in their “lair.” It was actually called the Board Room, a special room meant only for the 17K members (you could only imagine everyone’s surprise when you barged into the room demanding to talk to Jihoon), where they would meet and discuss who knows what. Despite it being intended for meetings, you couldn’t help but think these fuckers were bougie as fuck, but then again, this was the Academy that you were talking about.

Though you had to admit, the room was nice. When you barged in, Jihoon immediately pulled you to the opposite end of the room by the arched window. It was huge with two slightly smaller, yet still large, windows adjacent to the edges of the main one. It overlooked the courtyard, a selling point of the school and also your favorite part about the campus. In the middle was a grand marble fountain with a statue of Apollo dead center to represent wisdom and knowledge (remember that motto? Scholarship and Integrity of the Highest Honor? Yeah, that one.) Surrounding the fountain was grey stone that seemed to span for miles, creating a small plaza of sorts, encompassed within rose bushes. You found yourself staring at the fountain where you and Hyeyoon used to sit between classes, laughing and taking in the crisp autumn air before heading back inside to resume your studies.

You missed her.

Turning your attention back to the room, you realized you had probably overstayed your welcome—though, to be fair, you weren’t exactly welcomed in the first place. Yet if someone didn’t want you there, they certainly didn’t seem to make a fuss about it, as the other members didn’t glance in your direction, not even once. They were too engulfed in their own activities to spare you their attention, but that was fine by you. On one side of the room was a bookcase that was built into the wall, spanning from the floor to the ceiling, the shelves lined with leather-bound and hardback books with gold embossed along the spines. Along the other side of the wall were black-and-white portraits of each of the chair members, all thirteen of them dressed not in the usual uniforms, but in dark, sleek suits that were perfectly tailored to fit their shoulders. You couldn’t help but notice how eerily solemn they looked in their photos, the kind that kids years from now would say their ghosts haunt the halls of the academy. It was the kind of face that looked like they were harboring some deep, dark secrets.

Currently, only half of the members were there and you recognized most of them. In the middle of the room was a large wooden table with six chairs on either side and a single chair at the heads of the table. You assumed the head was where the president sat, Choi Seungcheol. Seungcheol was a year above you which meant you had never crossed paths, and you never planned on it. You had only really known of him by word of mouth, specifically Hyeyoon’s mouth. Not many people scared her, but he had a coldness to him that she found hard to get through. And you couldn’t blame her because he was scary. His long, pitch-black hair often covered his eyes, his demeanor always grave and humorless. His physical build wasn’t any less intimidating either—he had broad shoulders and arms that you swore probably ripped through his uniform so many times he had to get two sizes up just because it was becoming too much of a hassle to get it tailored weekly. Simply put, you did not fuck with Choi Seungcheol, especially when it came to the members of the Social Club. Though he was cold to outsiders, he was known to be protective of his boys, something you found to be incredibly problematic and, well, cringey to say the least.

Seungcheol was standing on the opposite corner of the room talking to Yoon Jeonghan, his vice president. If you didn’t know much about Seungcheol, there was little to nothing that you knew about Jeonghan, only that he had bleached his hair after losing some stupid bet. But even with his fried platinum hair, people called him “The Angel,” because no matter how you looked at him, he really had the face of an angel. High cheekbones, soft eyes, yet all of that was offset by the devilish grin he’d sometimes don. Irony in its truest form. Like Seungcheol, he was also a year above you, but you’d hear the girls and guys swarm whenever he walked down the hallways, the sunlight from the windows hitting him perfectly as he combed his fingers through his hair, flashing that lazy yet mesmerizing smile at the crowd.

With the two of them was another guy in their year, someone you recognized as Joshua Hong, the secretary. He was in charge of keeping track of the thirty something other members of the Social Club and ensuring the code in which they were supposed to swear by was always up to date. It was also his responsibility to report to the headmaster and dean with details of what the group has been up to. Not only that, he was also first violin in the orchestra, co-captain of the debate team, and the so-called “Gentleman” of the school, a nickname he had earned due to his, well, gentle nature. You could put this boy through the worst day of his life, but at the end of it, he would still smile at you when he passed through the halls, his large doe eyes creasing at the corners. He was your textbook definition of ‘perfect,’ the kind of boy people would want to bring home to their mothers who, in turn, would love and adore him, treating him as their son-in-law.

To the far left of the room, your right, were a couple guys hunched over a foosball table, the players all carved from marble. Bougie as fuck, you noted. One of them was insanely tall, with shoulders that spanned further than the Great Wall and gorgeous bronze skin, he had a jawline so sharp you swore he was carved from marble, too. Kim Mingyu. His focus was zeroed in on the small stone that swept past his players, his eyebrows furrowed as his exposed forearms flexed when he pulled the metal poles towards himself. You swallowed. Now that you saw him up close, it was understandable why anyone would fall head over heels for him. He was hot, and him being in that white dress shirt with the top few buttons undone and his sleeves rolled up didn’t do much to disprove that fact. He was a modern Adonis, beautiful in all ways, and to add to his beauty, he was also extremely talented in art. He had an eye for design which aptly made him the Social Club’s chair of design. He was in charge of creating posters and eye-catching social media posts, and really anything that had to do with getting people to come to events, it was all him.

Across from him was Seokmin, the chair of philanthropy. Seokmin also happened to be your classmate and friend, one of the few members of 17K whom you knew well. Based on what he had told you in the past, his role was to reach out to charities and host events to raise money for them. You found it strange, honestly, this idea of paying your way into this club just to do good in the world. How many of their members actually cared about any of the charity work the Social Club did? Though, admittedly, they had done a lot for numerous groups, among them cancer organizations and organizations for…the less fortunate. Despite this irony, if there was anyone suited for this specific position, it was Lee Seokmin with the heart of absolute gold. This boy could do no wrong, and he, like the rest of the members, also happened to be insanely beautiful. He had a smile that literally lit up the whole room whenever he laughed, and a warm look to him that was always inviting. Without fail, he always offered to walk you back directly to your dormitory’s entrance even though it was only a few minutes from the library after your study sessions would run later than expected. Seokmin was a good friend.

Your attention was now drawn to the door which you had barged through earlier, in walking Wonwoo, the chair of academics. If anyone in the executive board rivaled Mingyu’s beauty, it was Jeon Wonwoo. He always looked serious, though not as intimidating as Seungcheol, the wire-rimmed glasses helping to soften his appearance. As the chair of academics, it was Wonwoo’s responsibility to ensure the members of the club maintained a 3.0 GPA throughout the semesters to uphold the Social Club’s credibility with the headmaster and dean. You had often seen him in the library, his nose buried in a book. Or several. If not for his status in this…elite brotherhood…you might have assumed he was just another nerd, someone much like you who tended to keep their head down and keep to themselves. Even at events, you rarely saw him socialize with anyone other than the other members of the executive board, a testament to just how anti-social he was.

“Alright, it’s almost time to get started. Where is everyone?” Seungcheol’s low, gravely voice broke you out of your thoughts, your attention now turning to the cold upperclassman across the room. You supposed now was probably a good time for you to slip out quietly—

“What are you still doing here?” Jihoon asked, standing in the doorway. Suddenly, the eyes of the boys who previously hadn’t even registered your existence were now on you like blinding spotlights. Your cheeks and ears grew warmer with every minute, needles pricking your spine as you grew more anxious to be perceived.

“I…I was just leaving,” you managed to utter. Your legs seemed to have a mind of their own as you hastened towards the door with urgency to escape. Just as you were about to turn the brass handle of the door, it flung open, a familiar laugh ringing in your ears. You froze in your tracks and looked up at the tall boy, though he wasn’t quite as tall as Mingyu. His smiling face turned into one of surprise when he looked down on you, your eyes momentarily fixated on the moles above his lips which were now agape.

Jun.

chapter two ↦

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george5259999 · 3 years

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Week 9 - Prototyping

I was really keen to get into this week's content, as it felt as though the product was approaching its finished state. I had a pretty strong idea of the bottle concept I wanted to go with, so I used Rob's advice in the initial stages of the tutorial to make a template of the bottle on its top, front and side views (Image 1). I think that really paid its dividends as it allowed me to have a reference of the bottle's volume and size, but still allowed for a bit of creative freedom when creating the forms in Max.

After aligning my views and importing the reference images onto the planes of the box (Image 2), I started with the modelling of the front view. I found that working in one view at a time was the way to go, because it meant I didn't have to split my time between the three sides at once. I started with a plane and blocked out the outer edges of the form (Image 3), adding in the swift loops I learned from last week's tutorial, as well as the general navigation of the UI. I liked the amount of control I was starting to develop with 3ds Max, and I think that from last week, my skills have improved with more exposure to the program.

After the initial plane, I used the extrude tool to give it depth. When modelling, I decided to only focus on one half, and then mirror it over to the other side. I think its important to try and get concepts done as fast as possible, and I didn't want to overinvest on something that is meant to be experimental. I was having a lot of difficulty trying to connect the mirrored halves together into one solid mesh, so it took me a bit of time to find the answer on the Autodesk forums. I ended up finding a useful video on YouTube which instructed me to use the 'attach' tool when selecting both bodies to join them, and then bridging the edge loops together in the poly modelling tools. Although it was an arduous process, I think it was well worth the learning experience, and something which can be implemented into my workflow in the future to speed up my time modelling.

To create the taper on the side view, I used my discovery of the 'soft select' tool from last week to scale in the bottom section of the bottle (Image 4). I truly believe that the week 8 tutorial was pivotal in my understanding of the program, and it was really rewarding to use all of my experimentation practically. I then used the spline and lathe (Image 5 + 6) features to make the cap, tracing the reference image from the front view. I realised I forgot the bump at the top of the cap in the reference, so I added it into the lathe operation.

After the model was finished, I hid the reference layers (Image 7), and decided I wanted to work on rendering out my bottle design. I started by playing with the material editor in the Arnold rendering engine (Image 8). Before trying to play around with lighting and angles, I just wanted a base render of the bottle to see what the translucent material looked like. It was at this point that I ran into a sizeable issue. Using the MyAccess suite, 3ds Max was refusing to render anything out, and crashed multiple times before I gave up. Instead of trying to get the virtual machine to work, I switched to Blender on my PC. I was disappointed that I couldn't render anything through MyAccess, but I was comfortable with blender, and knew that I could make something which I was happy with.

I made a small pedestal out of a cube, and placed a bevel modifier in the exact same way I would in 3ds Max. Since I had made the jump to Blender, I decided that I wanted to add some branding decals to the surface of the bottle to make it look realistic. After, I UV unwrapped the model, and designed the branding in Photoshop Images 9 + 10).

I applied some textures and shaders to the bottle after preparing the decals and UV's. Browsing on Pinterest for inspiration, I found a frosted plastic which I really liked, so I modified the default Principled shader (Like Blinn or Lambert in Arnold) to pass light through; duplicating and scaling the bottle's body to create the moisturiser inside. I set up the three point lighting and camera angles for rendering in Cycles (Image 11 + 12).

Overall I was extremely happy with how these turned out, but at the same time I was disappointed that I wasn't able to improve my rendering skills with 3ds Max. Despite not using Arnold/Max as the renderer, I still learned a lot about product rendering and staging; as it is something I haven't had to do often. If I could redo these exercises, I would definitely get 3ds Max up and running on a stable platform so that I could render it out. I would also try a few more bottle concepts, and utilise the mirror feature more efficiently now that I know how to use it.

Pre-Class Activity: Andrew Simpson Cup Case Study

I found it extremely insightful when Andrew spoke about the continual and ongoing nature of designing prototypes. Digital and Physical model making both provide the opportunity for rapid iteration and 'tweaking' of ideas. What resonated with me most was when he discussed the importance of weight, and how the object "sits in your hand". Like his cup model, I believe that the physical foam model was influenced by how the form felt in my hand when carving it out of the block.

One stark comparison between Andrew's workflow and my own in this instance was the materiality of his concepts. Obviously, his concepts had a greater range of physical materials and product concepts, but I did my best to simulate that in 3ds max and Blender. Being in lockdown, it is quite difficult to source different tools and methods of production; so I think digital modelling really shines in this instance. Being able to try different materials, colours, finishes with the click of a button really works well with Andrew's mindset of low fidelity and rapid changes. In design, nothing is a static feature; everything plays a role in the perception of the final product.

Watching this video before working on my models was valuable, because it taught me that it was ok to deviate from the initial concept, and to go back and changes to try and enhance the product. It is a goal of mine to become more proficient and confident in every stage of design, and I found it really interesting to gain wisdom from someone who has been in the industry for a lot longer than I have.

#ides1262 2021 week 9

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astaerion · 3 years

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#showyourprocess

From planning to posting, share your process for making creative content!

To continue supporting content makers, this tag game is meant to show the entire process of making creative content: this can be for any creation.

RULES — When your work is tagged, show the process of its creation from planning to posting, then tag 5 people with a specific link to one of their creative works you'd like to see the process of. Use the tag #showyourprocess so we can find yours!

thank you szabina @patel-dev for tagging me!!

This is the set I'll be looking at, more specifically these two gifs:

1. planning

I made this set for the free choice day of wandavision appreciation week, so once i had the idea to use tvtropes, i headed to the website and read through all the tropes listed for wandavision. i took note of all the ones that could work with a simple scene in my notes app. when i got to the end of the list i went through the tropes i'd chosen and narrowed them down. then i set out to collect all the clips i wanted to use. since i knew i wanted to use some that had prominent yellow tones i decided to contrast them with black and white gifs that have a yellow accent in the form of the typography. this all sounds very methodical, but when i'm not making something for a specific challenge i don't plan things out at all, i just wing it.

2. creating

bear with me, because my photoshop is in hungarian. i'll do my best to use the proper terms, but no promises. i use cs6. so after i have the clip i want, i record it using kmplayer and import it into photoshop. i save all my psds often while i'm working because i have been burned by photoshop just crashing on me randomly. for the yellow gifs i chose scenes that already had yellow tones so i only had to enhance the colors and add some basic coloring to make it pop. that one looked like this:

1. without coloring

2. with coloring

3. with coloring and typography

this is the coloring i used for the yellow gifs with some adjustments as needed:

for the black and white gifs i didn't need to find scenes that had any kind of dominant color so i was free to choose whatever. this is how the second gif looked:

1. without coloring

2. with coloring

3. with coloring and typography

for the b&w gifs i used very little coloring:

that's all for coloring. as for typography, i used Abril Fatface 40 pt, one of my go-to fonts. for the yellow gifs i just had white text and adjusted it to be in the middle of the gif. for the b&w gifs i had the same font, but put the blending mode of the text to difference and added a yellow color overlay, changing the blending mode of the overlay to linear burn. ava (@anya-chalotra) has a ton of amazing photoshop tutorials, she talks about this here in more detail, i highly recommend you check it out if you're interested. as for the horizontal lines, i just used the pencil tool to draw a white line that's as long as the text, positioned it then made a copy and moved it into position at the bottom of the text. then i linked the two layers so that i could move them together and not mess up the spacing.

i think this is everything in the way of creating. lmk if something's not clear! i'm by no means great at photoshop but i'll answer any q's to the best of my ability.

3. posting

i either post my gifs immediately after finishing them or i sit on them for an eternity, there is no inbetween. for this particular set, since i made it for an appreciation week, i had a day when i had to post it. i actually only finished it the evening it had to be posted because i debated what to do for free choice for way too long. some other sets i made for the same event i had already done like a week before the event started bc there i had clearer ideas.

i hope this was at least a bit interesting to read, and not painfully long

tagging: (if you want, no pressure)

@inejz-ghafa with this set

@smallest-stories with this set

@wandasmaximoff with this set

@niinazenik with this set

@amandaseyfried with this set

#showyourprocess #szabi i completely just stole the way you formatted this bc i'm lazy #i am quite a rambly person if you couldn't tell #but i hope this made some semblance of sense and wasn't boring #dare i say maybe it was even helpful??? probably not #in any case i love to highlight creators and their amazing sets #so if nothing else check out the ppl i tagged bc they all make stunning stuff and are overall really inspiring #i said i wouldn't do this for a few days but i'm procrastinating as always so here we are #sorry i'll shut up now

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crashdevlin · 4 years

Text

Centerfold 4- Memory’s Been Sold

Centerfold Masterlist

Author’s Note: Written for Meghan who requested some fluffy A/B/O smut and then I came up with an idea and ran with it. Smut will start after the plot is established. Also, this is gonna go toward my @spnabobingo squares. This chapter fills my Slutty Omega square and is rated E for Explicit.

Summary: Dean is living the normal-boring life with Lisa. When he opens the newest Playboy, he gets the shock of his life.

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Beta!Lisa, Alpha!Dean x Reader (memory)

Word count: 2083

Story Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, 18+! HERE BE SEX!! DON’T READ IF YOU’RE A YOUNG’UN!!! , masturbation, pornography, mentions of multiple partners, mentions of fem-fem porn

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean pulled his pickup into the gas station down the street from Lisa’s house...his house. He had a house. He had a home, a family, an 8-5 job on a construction crew. He had...a real life. A real boring life. He was bored, but he supposed it was normal to feel bored, right?

“Hey, Jerry. The coffee fresh?” Dean asked as he walked into the convenience store.

“Half hour old,” the clerk, Jerry, answered with a smile. “And, uh, it’s Tuesday!”

Dean chuckled as he grabbed a thick paper cup and poured dark, bitter liquid into it. “New mags came in, huh?”

“Yeah. The Penthouse center is hot as hell, man. Oh, and the Playmate of the Month is the hottest omega I’ve ever fuckin’ seen!”

Dean laughed as he fitted the top on the cup. “Well, bring ‘em out, man. You know I’m gonna buy ‘em.” He took a drink as he walked up to the counter. Jerry had a Penthouse and a Playboy on the counter already. “They’re that good, huh?”

“Dude...especially the omega Playmate, man. She is smoking hot.”

Dean set the coffee on the counter and picked up the Playboy, slipping it out of the sleeve and looking at the cover. The cover was a woman, Taffy Rose according to the tiny script on the bottom next to the photographer credit, in a strawberry-print bikini and bunny mask. Hot, but nothing special. Nothing different or new. But he flipped the magazine open to the center and gasped.

“Holy shit.” The bunny mask was gone, her body on full display except the bits of skin hidden by the pink feather boa. His throat went dry. His cock got hard in jeans. His head felt like it might explode.

“I know, right?!” Jerry exclaimed, happily. “Isn’t she the hottest thing you’ve ever seen?”

“Yeah. She’s the hottest thing I’ve ever…” Dean’s voice trailed off as he focused on her neck. No mark. He hoped they hadn’t photoshopped one out. She was the hottest thing he’d ever touched, tasted, the best thing he’d ever missed out on...Taffy Rose, Y/n Y/l/n...his omega. Dean cleared his throat and tried to close the magazine, but he couldn’t. She’d grown up so beautiful and he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. “She, uh...she been in anything I might’ve seen?”

“I don’t know, Dean. I’m Googling her name as soon as I get home. I suggest you do the same, man.”

“Yeah. Uh...I’m just gonna...I’m just gonna take the Playboy. I’ll get the Penthouse next time, Jer.” Dean threw a ten on the counter and walked out with the magazine, leaving his coffee behind and not even caring. He sat in his truck cab for a few minutes, staring at her photo. Y/n went into porn. Whoever would have thought that sweet little innocent young woman with the overprotective parents would- “Actually, no, that makes sense.”

He rubbed his hand over his erection as he looked at the ‘fuck me’ look in her eyes. It didn’t take long for his mind to drift back to her under him, holding him, letting out gasping cries as he fucked her, that look in her eyes as she dug her nails into his shoulders.

His cock softened as he remembered getting on the phone with her to tell her he was leaving.

He felt like he was going to cry when the line clicked. “Y/l/n Residence!”

“Y/n, it’s Dean.”

“Oh, hey! I just got finished washing every surface you touched,” she said, giggling. That giggle tugged at his heart. “I can’t wait to see you again, though. It was so worth the cleaning time.”

“Yeah, uh...it was awesome, baby, but...my, uh, my dad called.”

“Oh?” Dean could almost hear the heartbreak in her voice.

“Yeah. He...got word of a job in Connecticut. He’s pickin’ us up tomorrow.” There was silence on the line for a minute. “Y/n?”

“You’re leaving?” she squeaked.

“Yeah.” Dean had to fight the tears. “Yeah, we’re leaving.”

“But...what about...I...am I gonna get to see you again at all?”

“Not unless you can sneak out tonight. Dad’ll be here in the morning. We’ll be gone before noon.”

“Oh God.”

Dean took a deep breath and started the truck, driving home with a pit in his stomach. He immediately hid the magazine in his desk and sat in the rolling desk chair. He looked around to make sure Lisa and Ben were both out of the den area, hoping they were out of the house, before pulling up Google and searching for ‘Taffy Rose omega xxx’. Several thousand results popped up, so Dean went to the first. A video on Pornhub labeled ‘Sweet omega Taffy seduces her best friend Kat at a sleepover’. Dean swallowed and licked his lips, turning his volume down almost all the way and clicking on the video. She looked fairly innocent, without looking fake, which was a feat of its own considering he knew he was watching porn. The other actress wasn’t pulling it off anywhere near as well, especially the overacted reaction to ‘Taffy’ kissing her.

Dean could remember making out with her when she was just a little younger than the 18 year old she was pretending to be on his screen and it filled him with yearning to see her wrap her arms around this other woman’s neck and pull her in for a passionate kiss. He watched a little longer before hitting the back button and started searching through more and more results.

‘Omega Taffy Rose and her hot omega stepmom’ ‘Taffy Rose fucks her best friends’ ‘Sunny Sweets and Taffy Rose Turth or dare’ ‘Batgirl and Supergirl caught by Poison Ivy’

“Holy shit, she’s the hottest Supergirl,” Dean whispered, as he pulled his dick out of his jeans and started pumping it. It occurred to him, as he lazily jacked off and clicked through the ‘Taffy Rose’ tag on XNXX .com, that she was always with other women, usually other omegas. It took him forty minutes of clicking to find ‘Beta Brad Bull wants to know what omega tastes like’.

Not a single alpha in any of her videos, and not a mark on her neck, despite the fact that so many of her omega co-stars had marks that they had failed to cover no matter the makeup they used. And Brad and Taffy didn't go further than oral.

"That's weird," Dean whispered, tucking his dick back into his boxers but leaving the jeans open in a V. "Usually 'mega actresses are getting knotted every other scene."

He clicked off of the porn site and went back to Google, searching 'Taffy Rose alpha'. He found several blogs asking why a porn actress was unmated, some wondering how she could be in this business without fear of being taken by force, and some judging her for doing porn in the first place, but eventually he found an interview with her. He turned up the volume a bit and started it.

"Taffy, you have just burst on the scene and you've been staring in so many films this past year, it's crazy how popular you are all of a sudden!"

"Yeah, it is. I mean, I just started this as a fun way to make some money and now it's a full-on career!" Dean gasped at her voice. It was deeper than he remembered, seasoned with age, but that giggle at the end was exactly the same. That giggle made his heart hurt.

"Well, as long as you're having fun, right?"

"Exactly!"

"Now, I've noticed, and I'm not the only one, that you seem to favor lesbian scenes. Is that a personal preference, a reference to your actual sexuality, or-"

"Oh, no! I love guys. I live for cock, but…” Dean’s dick twitched at that. Why did her voice sound so musical...especially saying something so filthy? “I don't fuck alphas and there's a lot more work for an omega willing to fuck another omega than an omega willing to fuck a beta."

"Now, why don't you fuck alphas? It would seem a natural thing for you, right?"

She looked down, a bit of the bashful teen girl showing on her face. "Um...I just...it's dangerous, since I'm not mated...and it's special, ya know?” She bit her bottom lip and looked back up and Dean’s jaw dropped. “I may be a slut, but I can't fuck some random alpha and take his knot. I've never taken a knot and...probably never will."

"Fuck, I'd give anything to have you on my knot, Y/n," Dean whispered as the door opened and Lisa and Ben entered. Dean scrambled to exit out of the browser and cover the open jeans with his t-shirt. Reality crashed down on him. There was his family. There was his beta girlfriend and her son...his boy whether by blood or not. “H-hey, honey. How was work?”

“It was good. How was your day, Dean?” she asked, walking over to the desk in the den.

“It was-it was a day,” he answered, tilting his head to allow her to kiss his cheek.

“What’s this?” Lisa asked, pulling open the half-closed desk drawer. She gasped and slammed the drawer closed when she saw the magazine. “I cannot believe you!” she snapped.

“Come on, Lees, it’s just a Playboy,” Dean defended.

“‘Just a Playboy’? Dean, you’re living with a teen boy now! You can’t have this stuff! You can’t expose him to-”

Dean scoffed and stood, looking down into her eyes. “Lisa, I promise you that boy knows about porn and knows how to find the good stuff online. My Playboy is probably too tame for him.”

“How dare you? Ben would never-”

“Yeah? Check his browser history.” Dean rolled his eyes and stepped around her, walking out of the house and to the garage. He grabbed the cover and pulled it up just enough to open the door and climb into the front seat of the Impala. He took a minute to let a wave of nostalgia roll over him at the feel and smell of his baby before he settled back, legs kicked out and jeans shimmied down enough to pull his cock out.

He closed his eyes and wrapped his fingers around his base. He could see Y/n in his mind. He could hear her laugh. He could see her smile, the way her eyes lit up when he said her name. He started moving his hand up and down his length as he remembered the way Y/n looked at him the first time he sunk his dick into her.

He ran his thumb across the head and gasped as he remembered her digging her nails into his shoulder muscles, how innocent she sounded when she said ‘I think you can go faster’, the way she whimpered with every thrust, the way she wrapped her legs around his waist and babbled his name, the way she whispered ‘harder’ and thanked him when he grabbed her white wood headboard and started pounding into her like the alpha he was. He wanted nothing more than to knot her, but she couldn’t take it.

She could take it now. He wanted to fill her and knot her and make her scream. He wanted to hear her moan and giggle and gasp and-

His breath caught as cum shot out of his cock, splashing over his hand. He gasped in a breath before another stream of semen left him. “Fuck.” Dean fucked himself through his climax until there was absolutely nothing left for him to give and then he slumped into the leather.

He was suddenly filled with despair. He found her. His omega, the one that got away, the one woman his mind returned to in quiet moments. He found her, but she was in the San Fernando Valley in California and he was in Cicero...with Lisa and her boring, normal life. Lisa and her son that she coddled. Beta Lisa that sent him away when he went into rut, who would never be able to take a knot. He loved that Lisa took him in, nursed him back from the brink of breakdown, but the yearning he had pushed down since he was sixteen years old was now back with a burning vengeance.

And there was nothing he could do about it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Kitchen Sink - @emoryhemsworth @flamencodiva @wasabiwitteks @rainbowkisses31 @rissbennett @mariekoukie6661 @officiallyunofficialperson @dolphincliffs @mrs-meghan-winchester @gayspacenerd @foxyjwls007 @ilovefanfic86 @marvelfansworld @f-yeahfandoms @wonderlandfandomkingdom @hhiggs @sev3nruby @hobby27 @paintballkid711 @divadinag @thewhiterabbit42 @fantasymyth-1 @queenoftheunderdark @cosicas-cuquis @superfanficnatural @letsby @supernatural-bellawinchester @onethirstyunicorn @swinchester27 @chalicia @sunnyroadtrips @screechingartisancashbailiff @death-unbecomes-you Hunter Tags - @atc74 @sandlee44 @spnbaby-67 @kalesrebellion @tumbler-tidbits @hoboal87 @stoneyggirl @kbl1313 @cookiechipdough @mrswhozeewhatsis @winchesterxfamilybusiness @holylulusworld @pretty-fortune @screechingartisancashbailiff @we-are-all-a-bunch-of-idjits @imperiusimpala

Gaga For Green Eyes Tags- @typicalweirdbookworm @deanmonandnegansbitch @jadesupernatural @stoneyggirl @4fareader @squirrelnotsam @lyarr24 @akshi8278 @pretty-fortune @we-are-all-a-bunch-of-idjits

Centerfold Tags- @mychemicalimagines @moron225 @ladyofmaidensandwine @that-one-gay-girl @roonyxx @teresa-67

#cassie writes stuff #spn fanfic #reader-insert #a/b/o dynamics #alpha!dean #omega!reader #lisa braeden #pining #pornstar!reader

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headfulloffantasies · 3 years

Text

WonderTrev Secret Santa

For @pennywaltzy Happy Holidays!

Sometimes- A WonderTrev fic. Rated PG

Sometimes, Diana dreamed that Steve didn’t die.

Sometimes

Sometimes, Diana dreamed that Steve didn’t die. Some nights, she saw the plane explode in a flash of orange against the black night sky. And when the smoke cleared, a white parachute drifted through the air. Diana ran across the landing strip, her boots pounding the asphalt. Steve’s knees buckled as he hit the pavement. Diana caught him, held him tight against her chest. It felt like crashing into the sun. His warm body, still alive, brough tears to her eyes. She vowed to never let go.

Steve’s arms wrapped around her. He said something into her ear. But like before, she couldn’t hear through the muffled ringing.

“I thought I lost you,” she whispered. She ran a hand through his soft hair, pressing him even closer to her. His hands ran up and down her back, soothing the ache of loss.

They left the battlefield. They walked hand and hand away from a war finally won. They saved the world, and the promise of tomorrow was their reward.

Diana hated that dream. She woke with tears staining her pillow. Sometimes she put on her armor at night and went out looking for crime just so she wouldn’t have to face that dream. Eventually, she learned to live with the dream. She stopped putting on the armor.

Diana told her story to very few people. The legend of Wonder Woman became a myth, and then a fable. Just a story soldiers remembered hearing in the trenches. Sometimes though, Diana got lonely.

Bruce Wayne gifted her the photo of Steve, Samir, Charlie, and Chief. Diana sat down and sent him an email. “Thank you for bringing him back to me. Will you meet me for coffee? I’m ready to tell you my story.”

They met at Diana’s apartment. She set two mugs of earl grey tea on the coffee table. Bruce fidgeted on her couch, clearly unsure how to start this conversation. Diana sat next to him and began. “I was not born in the world of men…”

Sometimes, when she had told people she’d lost her only love, people would say “Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.”

Bruce said nothing. He sat in his brooding silence when she finished talking. Diana’s tea had made had gone cold. Bruce finally lifted his eyes. They were blue like Steve’s, but icy where Steve’s had always been warm. Bruce took Diana’s hand in his.

“Steve sounds like a very special person. Thank you for sharing. People like us seem to carry far too much pain.”

“People like us?” Diana raised an eyebrow.

Bruce didn’t respond. He gathered his coat and left.

Diana wished sometimes she’d never left Themescara. The only people in the world who might understand her were barred from her. She could never return. But sometimes, she imagined what she might say to her mother. Diana could feel the sun-warm grass beneath her bare feet. She imagined sitting in the glade where she’d learned to ride horses. Her mother would sit across from her. They’d share a drink of wine.

Diana would lift her face to her mother and say, “I found a man worthy of the Amazons. The man Steve Trevor, who defended us on the beach.”

The imagined Hippolyta raised an eyebrow. “I recall his name, Diana. It’s not every century a man finds his way to our island.”

“Yes, mother,” Diana hid a smile. “If I told you I loved him, what would you say?”

Hippolyta also smiled. “So long as you are happy, I am happy for you.”

Diana swallowed hard. “I lost him.”

“Not all things that are lost are finished,” Hippolyta said.

Diana snapped from her daydream. Her mother had never said that before in her mind. Diana’s heart raced. Where had that thought come from?

Not all things that are lost are finished.

What did it mean? Diana was sure the thought had not come from herself.

The next day Diana sat at her desk in her office. She typed up her proposal for the museum’s newest exhibition, attaching her notes on the rarity of the Greek artifacts included in the display. She leaned back in her chair and rubbed at her temples. She’d had the dream again last night and hadn’t been able to go back to sleep after.

Diana’s email pinged. She looked up, expecting something from her supervisor. The message had no subject line. She checked the sender. No sender listed. Diana frowned. She really shouldn’t open anything like this. She deleted the message, hoping no other spam would make it into her inbox. Another ping immediately drew her attention. The subject line of the new email read “READ ME, DIANA”.

There was still no sender. Diana chewed her lip. She clicked the message. It had only one line.

“Not all things that are lost are finished.”

A chill ran down Diana’s spine.

Another message popped up. Diana clicked it. She lurched back in her chair.

It was a photo of Steve Trevor. He wore a grey sweatshirt and glowered at the camera. The sight of him in colour stole Diana’s breath. This couldn’t possibly be real. Someone had photoshopped the image, surely. Diana frantically searched the message for the sender. No sender, but the subject line read “FIND ME”.

Diana’s pulse raced. Steve’s face swam in front of her eyes. Diana forced herself to her feet. A thousand memories crashed over her like a wave. Steve’s smile, his blue eyes, his hands clasped around hers, the snow falling between them. Diana could hear the music in the chilly square.

Diana couldn’t stand still anymore. She paced back in forth in front of her desk. Tears ached in her throat, but she forced them down. This couldn’t be real. Diana needed proof. She leaned over the desk and tapped frantically at the computer. There was one person she knew who would help without asking questions. Bruce Wayne.

She forwarded the photo of Steve along with a quick plea. “Can you verify this photo is real and find the source?”

Diana went back to her pacing while she waited. Her breaths came in ragged gasps. If Steve was alive-. She forced her thoughts elsewhere. She had to find whoever had sent the picture. Diana sat at her desk again. She stared at Steve’s face glaring back. His thick eyebrows pulled harshly over his eyes. Diana traced a finger over the crease in his forehead. The only photo she had of him was too faded and grainy to make out much of his neutral expression. She’d never forgotten how deeply he conveyed his emotions; but she hadn’t seen it in so many decades.

At last, Bruce replied to her request. Diana slammed her hand on the mouse to open his response.

“The photo is real. Unable to track the sender. Do you need backup?”

A sob clogged in Diana’s throat. Steve. Steve alive. How? How could this happen?

The sharp ring of Diana’s cellphone startled her out of her thoughts. “Hello.”

“Do you have any clues as to who did this?” Bruce’s low growl grounded Diana in her seat.

“No,” she admitted. “All I have is the picture.”

“I’ve also been receiving disturbing messages,” Bruce said.

Diana sucked in a breath. “Do you have any leads?”

“One,” Bruce did not elaborate.

Diana resisted rolling her eyes. Bruce remained as difficult to talk to as ever. “I would be grateful for any assistance you may have,” she said.

Bruce paused. Diana waited; the tempests of Bruce’s moods not new to her. “The messages I’ve had were not, let’s say, traditional.”

“How do you mean?”

“Dreams,” Bruce said curtly. “I’ve been having dreams of someone I thought to be dead. She might not be.”

Diana stilled. “I’ve also had dreams.”

“I’ll meet you in an hour.”

Diana went home. Bruce rang her door bell exactly one hour from when he hung up the phone. Diana welcomed him into her apartment.

Bruce glanced around the airy penthouse suite. He stuck his hands in his crisp suit pockets. “You have good taste.”

“We both know you’re not here to compliment my décor,” Diana closed the door. “Please sit,” she gestured to the couch. Bruce perched on the edge of the cushion. Diana noted he’d placed himself where he could see all the windows and doors. She didn’t comment.

Diana sat across from Bruce. “Tell me about your dreams.”

Bruce frowned. “They’ve been chaotic. I only ever dream of the night my parents died. Now, I’m having vivid recollections of Justice League missions. I thought maybe someone was trying to gather intel on the League.”

Diana noted the dark circles under Bruce’s blue eyes. “You haven’t been sleeping, have you?”

Bruce shook his head. “It seemed irresponsible to give her an in.”

“Her?” Diana raised a quizzical eyebrow. “You know who’s doing this to us?”

“Maybe. I have a suspicion.”

“Who is she?” Diana asked.

Something flickered across Bruce’s face too quickly for Diana to recognise. “Her name is Ace. I knew her when she was a child. It seems she’s grown up. And grown even more powerful.”

“How do you mean?” Diana pressed.

Bruce straightened his spine. Diana was beginning to recognise his stiff posture as a form of armor he gathered around himself. “Ace is psychic. When I met her, she was sick. Her powers overflowed, wrapping people in vivid hallucinations. I thought she had died in my arms.”

“Did you kill her?” Diana didn’t want to say it.

“No,” Bruce said. His sharp gaze reprimanded Diana for even asking.

She folded her arms over her chest. “If this girl can warp people’s minds, how do we know any of what’s going on is real?”

“We don’t,” Bruce pinned her with another look. “But are you willing to risk it?”

“Yes,” Diana replied immediately. Anything for Steve. The bubble of hope that had grown in her chest expanded. She didn’t dare nurture it. If all this was only a trick, she didn’t know how she’d react. She couldn’t lose Steve a second time.

“What do you propose?”

Bruce shrugged. “It’s probably easiest to go to sleep and wait for Ace to contact us.”

A knot of anxiety squeezed in Diana’s stomach. “Yes, I suppose,” she conceded.

Diana set Bruce up in her spare bedroom. The bed hadn’t seen any guests in quite some time. Bruce protested that he could sleep on the couch, but Diana refused.

“Hospitality is a virtue among my people.”

Diana left Bruce to try to fall asleep in her fresh sheets. She went to her own room and closed the door.

She laid down on top of her covers and closed her eyes. In the dark of her own thoughts, Diana thought of Steve. She recalled the smoke of their little camp in the European wilderness. Steve’s coat dropped around her shoulders. Charlie sang a soldier’s song of longing to go home. Diana watched out of the corner of her eye as Steve curled up and fell asleep on the ground. His face softened in repose. Diana longed to lay next to him, to drape his arm over her shoulder and to burrow into his side. She missed him dearly. What would she give for a chance to get him back?

Diana rolled over. Her alarm clock told her she’d been laying there for an hour. She sighed. She obviously wasn’t going to fall asleep. Diana levered herself up and went to check on Bruce.

She tapped softly at the door. There was no answer. She pushed the door open. Bruce lay half curled around a pillow; his fingers gone lax in their grip on the sheets. He’d thrown his jacket over the chair in the corner. Diana crossed over to the chair and settled herself down to wait until Bruce woke. His body had relaxed in sleep, but his jaw clenched and his brow furrowed. It did not look peaceful.

Bruce woke with a jerk. He made a snuffling sound like an adorable puppy. Diana hid her smile behind her hand. Bruce sat up. His hair stood up in spikes on one side of his head. He scrubbed the sleep from his eyes and finally noticed Diana.

“How long were you there?” He asked, his voice rough.

Diana shrugged. “A few minutes only. I could not sleep.”

Bruce nodded. He slid off the bed and straightened his collar. “I got a location.”

Diana’s head snapped up. “Really?” She rose from her seat.

Bruce nodded. He slicked his hair back, all business again. “Ace showed me the facility she’s being held at.”

“And Steve?” Diana pressed.

Bruce frowned. “I think so. The details are fading. We should move.”

“You have your suit?” Diana asked.

Bruce smirked. “Always.”

Diana ran to change.

Bruce was waiting at the door when she came out in her armor. His face hid behind the black cowl. He cut an imposing figure with his cape trailing the floor and the horns on his head stabbing towards the ceiling. He reached for the door knob. “The Batplane is on its way. We’ll have to go to the roof.”

“Not that way,” Diana strode to the balcony and threw open the glass doors. She braced a foot against the balcony rail and turned back to Bruce. She extended a hand. “Are you coming?”

Bruce took her hand. She tugged him into her side and wrapped an arm around his waist. Diana lifted her head, calculating the distance to the roof. She bent her knees and jumped. They rocketed into the air. They launched up over the roof. For one second, they were suspended over the city, the sunset spreading golden below. Then they dropped. Diana adjusted her grip on Bruce to compensate his weight. She took the force of their landing with a jolt through her bones.

Bruce scrambled out of her grip. “A little warning would have been nice,” he grumbled.

The roar of an engine alerted them of the Batplane before it appeared at the edge of the roof. Bruce strode over to the tiny aircraft. Diana approached the cramped cockpit dubiously.

“I can fly behind you,” she offered, noting the single seat.

“No,” Bruce answered. “We have to make a plan as we fly. Ace said there wasn’t much time left.”

“Fine,” Diana climbed into the craft. She squeezed her knees behind the pilot’s chair. Bruce leaped in and flicked a dozen blinking switches on the controls in front of him. The canopy descended and sealed with a hiss. Diana wriggled her shoulders, trying to relieve the pressure of something digging into her spine.

“Tell me what Ace said,” Diana demanded as the plane roared to life and surged towards the horizon.

Bruce kept his eyes on his instruments. “They’re in a facility underground. Someone’s been running tests on them. Experimenting.”

Diana’s stomach dropped. Images of a faceless scientist hurting Steve ran through her mind. She clenched her fists to keep her hands from shaking.

Diana finally asked the question that had burned in her chest for hours. “Did you ask Ace about Steve?”

Bruce nodded. “She said he’s been there the longest. But not awake? She thinks he was in some kind of suspension until recently.”

Diana held back a growl. “What’s the plan?”

Bruce glanced back at her. “There are other prisoners there as well. The priority should be getting them out.”

“Agreed.”

Bruce passed a radio back to Diana. “We’ll have to split up. Do you think you can make a loud distraction?”

Diana managed a savage smile. “I can do that.”

The bunker in the snowy woods crouched against the side of the mountain like a soldier defending its stance. Diana marched straight up to the solid iron doors. Her shield hung loose in her grasp. Her sword trailing the ground left a slice through the newly fallen snow. She approached with her shoulders back and head high. Diana didn’t bother yelling for attention. She drew back her leg and slammed her heel against the door. The metal buckled. Diana kicked again. The hinges groaned. One more attack and the doors crumpled in on themselves.

The tunnel leading down into the earth yawned black and abandoned. But Diana could hear the sound of running feet and shouting. Too late, an alarm shrieked overhead.

Diana strode down the tunnel. Just as the smooth floor evened out, a dozen armed guards rounded the corner. Diana leaped. She slammed into the oncoming assailants. They didn’t stand a chance. Diana cut through them with her lasso and shield. Once they were all down, she looked around. The grey concrete hallway she found herself in branched to the left and right. To the left she heard more shouting and stomping feet. To the right, then. Away from the security’s hub, where Bruce was slowly making his own covert progress.

Diana took her time, moving at a sedate pace. Any time a new batch of guards caught up, she disarmed and dispatched them quickly. She was aware of the blinking cameras in the corners following her every move. She did not care. Calculated fury filled Diana as she marched through the base.

Losing Steve before had given the same battle clarity. But this was different. The incident with Ares had been fire. This was cold as ice. Steve was here. Nothing else mattered.

Diana descended down a flight of stairs to a white door marked “Labs”. Diana shoved the door open.

The smell of disinfectant hit her nose. She found a room of sterile white chambers. Diana drew nearer, a humming sense of urgency finally breaking through her cold exterior. Each chamber resembled a cell with a white bunk and a glass wall separating it from the rest of the lab. Figures moved in each chamber.

Diana drew level with the first cell. A woman pressed against the glass. She wore the same grey sweatshirt and pants as Steve in the photo. Her stringy hair fell across her eyes. Those same eyes widened at Diana’s approach.

“Wonder Woman?” The woman gasped. “Are you here to save us?”

“Yes,” Diana nodded. She drew back her shield and slammed it into the glass. The woman ducked with a yelp. The shield ricocheted off the glass, the vibration jarring Diana’s arm all the way to the shoulder. The glass didn’t so much as crack.

Diana stared in disbelief.

“They knew you’d come,” the woman whispered.

“Who are you?” Diana demanded.

“Tara.” The woman sniffed miserably. “I’ve been here for ages. Doctor Leslie talks about you all the time. She hates you. She designed the cages to be impenetrable.”

“We’ll see about that,” Diana studied the locking mechanism on the cell door. It looked like a simple key card lock. Diana brought her sword down on the lock. It

Tara stepped out on shaking legs. “Thank you.”

“I’m searching for someone,” Diana said. “His name is Steve Trevor.”

Tara nodded. “He’s here. Doctor Leslie came and took him away when the alarms started.”

Diana didn’t know whether to be afraid or relieved.

She released the rest of the prisoners. They told her the same thing: they knew of Steve, but hadn’t spoken to him. They’d all been experimented on, but the head scientist, Doctor Leslie, seemed to hate Steve more than the others.

Diana pointed Tara and the others towards the exit. “Head that way. Keep out of sight.”

The prisoners scurried away. Diana hefted her sword and kept going. Somewhere here, Steve was wandering around. She’d find him.

“Diana,” the radio Bruce had given her crackled to life. “I’m in the main security office. I have control of the building.”

Diana pulled the radio from her belt. “Where is Doctor Leslie?”

“Keep heading forwards. She’s holed up in lab 237. I’ll meet you there.”

Diana’s heart pounded in time with her boots as she ran down the hallway. The numbers on the lab doors streaked by. She skidded to a halt outside lab 237.

The door hung open. Diana unsheathed her sword. The lights were off in the room. Computers whined at the numerous desks. Strings of numbers ran over the screens, casting flickering patterns of light on the walls. Diana edged forward. At the head of the room, a woman bent over a desk, pressing keys on the computer.

“Stay there,” Diana ordered.

The woman’s head jerked up. Her hair escaped her bun in wild curls and her glasses sat askew on her face.

“Doctor Leslie?” Diana asked. She took another step closer.

The doctor adjusted her glasses. “My, you are a specimen, aren’t you?”

Diana ignored the jibe. “Where is Steve Trevor?”

“Dead.”

The world fell like a bolder on Diana’s shoulders. The air punched from her lungs. She flew across the room and grabbed a handful of Doctor Leslie’s lab coat. “You’re lying,” Diana growled.

Doctor Leslie seemed unaffected by the fact that her feet no longer touched the ground. Her face twisted with rage.

“Do you remember Doctor Poison?” Doctor Leslie hissed. “She taught me everything I know. And she had a special hatred for you. Together we found your precious Steve Trevor after the war. She put him on ice. She refused to bring him out to play. But after her death, how could I not avenge my dear teacher?” She chuckled. “He was such a lovely specimen. I’ll cherish his last moments forever.”

A stripe of panic ran down Diana’s spine. “No.”

“Yes,” Doctor Leslie cackled. “Dead! I killed Steve Trevor! How does it feel?”

Diana’s grip on the woman’s collar tightened. Doctor Leslie gasped for breath. Cold chilled Diana to the bone. She’d let the men responsible for Steve’s death live once before. Not this time. She’d raze the base to the ground.

“Diana?”

Diana knew that voice. Her fingers went lax. Doctor Leslie collapsed onto the floor. Diana hardly noticed. She turned.

“Steve?”

He stood in the doorway. His chest rose and fell with harsh breaths. Diana stood still as the statue of Zeus as Steve came closer. He held his hands out to the sides as if approaching a startled animal. His blue eyes were deeper than she remembered. Diana took the last step separating them.

She reached out for his face with a shaking hand. She pulled her fingers away just an inch from his skin. “I don’t want this to be a dream,” she said.

“Diana, I’m here,” Steve assured her. His pleading eyes begged her to believe him. “I’m not leaving you again.”

Diana crushed him to her chest. He still smelled the same. Apples and musk underneath the disinfectant of this place. Diana curled her fingers in the short hairs at the back of his neck. His cheek pressed to hers.

“I’m here,” Steve murmured. “I’m not going anywhere.”

There was a scrambling noise as Doctor Leslie hauled herself from the floor and made her break for the door. Diana’s hand went to her lasso. Before she could snap the magic rope around the doctor’s ankle, Doctor Leslie ran straight into a shadow standing in the doorway.

Batman glared down at the doctor. She cowered.

Diana turned back to Steve, ignoring Bruce snapping cuffs on the doctor’s hands.

Diana wrapped Steve in her arms again. “I was so scared I lost you again,” she admitted.

“Give me that magic lasso,” Steve demanded. Diana unraveled it into his hands.

Steve wrapped the cord around his wrist like he had those ages ago in London. The magic glowed gold on his skin. “I am never leaving your side again.”

Diana didn’t know how long she and Steve stayed there wrapped in each other’s arms. At last, Bruce cleared his throat. Diana pulled back from Steve enough to crane her head at Bruce.

“Did you find Ace?” Diana asked.

“Yes.” A young woman with short black hair peeked out from behind Bruce’s shoulder. Her grey eyes danced with mirth.

“I knew you’d hear me,” Ace said. “Steve won’t shut up about you. I knew if you loved him half as much as he loves you, you’d come for him.”

Steve’s cheeks flushed. Diana laughed at his blush. She dropped her hand to grasp Steve’s fingers. “Let’s go home.”

#wondertrev #wondertrevsecretsanta #wonder woman #steve trevor #secret santa exchange 2020 #diana prince #bruce wayne #batman #justice league compliant #fanfic #fanfiction #wonder woman 2017 #ace

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holy-yeosang · 3 years

Text

Content Creator year in review

This is my content creator year in review! I was indirectly tagged by @wabisaba 💖🥺

First creation and most recent creation of 2020:

Well my first creation of 2020 was this every ATEEZ member at the center of a choreo edit. While not new to editing, it was my first ATEEZ edit and also my first edit ever since I came back to Tumblr. My most recent creation is this San THANXX facecam gifset.

One of your favorite creations from 2020:

These Hongjoong/Yeosang INCEPTION stage compilation. I was new to working with Vapoursynth with the help of the lovely @sanshine. While the gifs are far from perfect, I really enjoyed making it and messing around with the colouring and the layout of the gifsets. These are still one of my favourite gifsets.

A creation you’re really proud of:

Hongjoong’s birthday edit is by far my most favourite creation of 2020. I was inspirted by @yunogf‘s NCT VHS cover edits. While mine doesn’t look as great, I was actually quite proud of it and very excited to share it after I finished it. I enjoyed putting everything together and trying to create a story that could fit the covers.

A new style you tried this year and a gifset that uses it:

The use of a gaussian blur overlay. Previously I wanted gifs to look very sharp, but I really like the soft glow gaussian blur gives to specific type of gifs. I also use an overlay of a black&white filter. I noticed it darkens the shadows and makes things pop out more, so I am kind of attached to the use of it.

A creation that took you forever:

Okay this is going to sound very stupid, but this Yeosang GwiYeomi gifset took me 3 hours. I don’t know why, but photoshop was so slow that day and at some point it crashed and I had to redo everything. I was actually gonna give up on it, but I told myself that I had worked on it so long, I might as well just post it. Another reason why it took so long was because, instead of making several small clips and gif that way...I just made a 700 frame clip and had to deal with that...

Your creation from 2020 that received the most notes:

To my own surprise it was San “accidentally” revealing his pink hair on Hongjoong’s VLIVE. Somehow I got over 1K notes and I am more than delighted about it.

A creation you think deserved more notes:

I honestly have quite a few (in my own opinion). However, this gifset of Yeosang during the Black Cat Nero MV behind the scenes. I am quite proud of my colouring of that gifset eventhough it isn’t that out there.

A new fandom you joined and a creation you made for it:

It’s not that I newly joined the fandom, but I am starting to make gifsets for NU’EST as well. I thought about it a while back, but thought no one would really care. But then came to the conclusion that if I want to make something I should just do so. So basically NU’EST content.

A creation you made that breaks your heart:

Hongjoong calling out a Yeosang hater on VLive. When I read about the entire Yeosang ordeal, I got very sad and honestly very upset. Watching that VLive with subs and hearing Joong calling out the person who kept leaving nasty comments made me happy but actually also more sad realising how open some people are with being so rude and disrespectful.

A ‘simple’ creation that you really love:

Gifset of San “jumping” on Yeosang after waking up during Fever Road. It makes me feel soft and warm inside, the way both of them are laughing while Jongho is lying on the couch like a lazy cat.

A creation that was inspired by another one (add both your creation and the one that inspired it!):

The Hongjoong birthday set I mentioned before!

A favorite creation created by someone else:

This gifset by @sanshine

This by @jwy

This by @seungyoune

This by @songmingki

This by @jaemtens

This specific gifset by @choi-san

Some of your favorite content creators from the year:

Okay so @songmingkis @songmingki @sanshine @wabisaba @seungyoune @shuhuas @jaemtens @halahala @ceojongho @lilacwoo @she @woo-san @djxiao @park-seonghwa @choi-san @joonghwas @lkeonhee @ateezgf @hongjooong and there are probably many more but my brain is mush...

And for good measure, another a couple more creations of yours that you love:

Okay so I really love this gifset of Joong during The Kolor. This gifset of Yeosang during Port of Call (I’m obsessed with the last gif). Him :(. Asia Song Festival San was smth else... and last but not least, swag rich golden boy Seonghwa.

Tagging whichever content creator wants to do this~

#tagged

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monster-madame · 4 years

Text

Impulsive Decisions (Breanna x Jackson) | Modern Orc Boyfriend x Human Witch Woman

Hello hello!

Here is a hetero NSFW orc boyfriend story, featuring a human plus size woman witch and an orc named Jackson!

I couldn’t figure out how to photoshop the tempting rugby player photographed green (what a problem to have), so use your imagination. <3

Details: This is a reader insert story, but I do name the character becuase I find “Y/N” distracting.

Word Count: 6,305 [800 ish is smut]

* * * * *

You blew your hair out of your face, pushing through the kitchen doors into the dining area. You normally didn’t work lunches, as you were taking computer science classes at the local university. Classes made the lunch shift nearly impossible, but you were on break between spring and summer courses.

Walking through the packed dining room, you mentally noted to avoid taking lunch rushes during the future. You definitely preferred the more relaxed pace of the dinner shift. The lunch shift seemed mostly made up of patrons who were on a time crunch for their lunch hour. You winced as their stressed energy grated against your Senses.

“Here you are,” you said to one of your tables, putting down your tray. The guests smiled at you and continued talking animatedly to one another, they all seemed to be friends. Their energy was open, fun and a little mischievous.

Vinnie’s attracted a more diverse set than other restaurants, and the table sat a good assortment of humanoids – a half-orc, a tiefling, a human (probably a witch by the tattoos) and a minotaur.

“Did you see that Jackson Scott is here?!” the tiefling whispered to the table. “I can’t believe we’re lunching where JACKSON SCOTT lunches! Wasn’t he just declared one of the riches men in Boston by The Globe?”

You raised your eyebrows at that. Vinnie’s was a nice restaurant, but it wasn't nice nice, like 5 dollar signs on Yelp! nice. What was he doing here?

“Is there anything else I can get for you?” you asked the table. The minotaur asked for another side of Mayo. “I’ll go snag that for you and be right back,” you said, mentally noting what drinks needed to be filled.

Turning to go back into the kitchen you heard a crash in a far corner. Looking over, you saw that it belonged to one of your BFFs, Jill, who was red-faced and mopping up what looked to be marinara sauce around a really pissed off orc. Jill is a slight dryad, and you could feel her stress emanating at you.

Striding over, you slapped on your best Hospitality Smile, ready to flex your energetic charms as an empath to diffuse the situation. You strided over, noting that the patron was seated in what the staff called the “Do Not Disturb” table, that was situated behind potted plants and in an alcove.

Well, at least other patrons wouldn’t be able to gawk at the lot of you.

As you neared, you realized why he was seated at the DND table. Oh fuck. He was a VIP.

It was, of course, Jackson Scott. Jill had a knack for ticking off the wrong customers. He was ripped, with the kind of body that would make Jason Moma ask for workout tips. Beautiful tusks and a real energy of “fucking pissed off” about him. Nearing 7 feet tall with dark hair, he was seated in one of the special chairs designed to withstand a taller being.

“Hello,” you said greeting him. “We’re so terribly sorry for the accident. We’ll of course cover the dry cleaning bill and help you get into different clothes. We can send you home with a take out order and a giftcard on the house? We’ll cover the Uber, so you can get changed?”

“This,” he grit out, gesturing to his linen suit, “is bespoke. And ruined. Do you intend to cover the cost of a new summer suit?”

Um, no, the restaurant probably couldn’t cover a suit that would cover six months of rent. Seeing your hesitation, his frustration grew.

“Look, I came here for a quiet lunch between meetings, and if I had known the staff was so incompetent,” he said, looking at Jill, “then I definitely would’ve gone elsewhere. Do you typically keep on staff that are so bad at their jobs?”

Oh, no he fucking did NOT. Jill was one of their best servers! Accidents happen!!

“Jill is one of our best staff members, and we so apologize for this accident,” you said, upping your mental defenses, just in case his energy became more aggressive. “We have an excellent dry cleaner, and I so appreciate you helping us get this sorted out,” you said. Sometimes thanking someone for being on your side helped them actually be on your side.

Seeing your words had no effect, you let out a trickle of an calm energy to the restaurant.

Unfortunately, that little oomph of calm you tried to use totally backfired. His tension ratcheted up. Your Hospitality Smile vanished right off your face.

“Are you fucking magicking me?” he grit out, shoving his chair back from the table.

Technically, no. You were magicking yourself and the energy around you, but you didn’t think he’d see it that way.

Desperately trying to figure out how to fix a situation that had totally gotten out of hand, you saw Gio, Vinnie’s son, headed towards them. Oh, thank god. Vinnie was human, and he was able to effortlessly engage with all types of beings.

Gio arrived on the scene, strategically placing himself so that Jackson had to move a bit to address him, shielding their party from prying eyes.

“What seems to be the problem here, Jackson?” he asked, addressing the Orc.

“Your staff is fucking incompetent and magicking patrons, Gio,” he bit out. “What kind of restaurant did I just put money into?”

At the word “money,” you looked at Jill, shocked.

“I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding,” shared Gio. “Breanna would never magick a customer, and her magick doesn’t even work that way –”

“Wait a moment,” you interjected. “He bought Vinne’s?!”

Jackson shifted his attention to you, realizing he had two shit shows on his hands. “I mean, he’s more of an investor–”

Well, crap. Spilling marinara sauce on one of Boston’s elite was bad. Ruining the suit of an investor was even worse. This could be disastrous for Jill.

Glancing at Jill’s face, you realized she had figured out the same thing.

Chewing your lip, your mind raced. BAM! You had a solution. Jill really fucking needed this job and, you, well, didn’t. The restaurant was trying to expand, and needed capital. Telling Jackson Scott to fuck off wasn’t an option.

You knew what you had to do.

Turning back on your Hospitality Smile, you turned to the Orc. Jackson. “Mr. Scott,” you said smoothly. “I so apologize for your experience today at Vinne’s. This is not the kind of service our staff is trained to give. Because I trained Jill, I take full responsibility for this issue. Faulty training isn’t up to our standards at Vinnie’s, so I’ll be replaced.”

You then took off your apron, and handed it to Gio. You then took out your mini-wallet that held your license, credit card and a few business cards. You peeled off one of your business cards.

“If you’ll please send the bill to the email address on that card, I’ll be happy to reimburse you.” You handed it to a stunned Jakson Scott.

The three of them stared at you.

“Miss, wait, I think there’s been a misunderstanding –” Jackson started.

“No, no totally my fault,” you said with your Hospitality Smile, emanating graciousness and competence. This needed to work. If he asked Gio to fire Jill, Gio would probably have to. Although to be honest, if a prejudiced Orc now owned the restaurant – excuse you, invested in it – you weren’t sure how long Jill would have a job.

“I’ll let Gio sort out your Uber and meal. Have a great rest of your day, Mr. Scott.”

And then you spun on your heel on and left the dining room, headed to the staff room to grab your bag. You felt hot tears at the back of your eyes as you walked back. No. You would not cry. You kept your Hospitality Smile firmly in place.

The people at Vinnie’s were your family, the only family that mattered. You knew you weren’t going to work here for the rest of your life, but you for sure thought you’d finish your degree before leaving. And even then you had planned to work the odd weekend shift or get more involved in the back office.

But Gio and Vinnie had been looking for an investor for ages, needing cold hard cash to update the restaurant and expand to another location, for Gio to fully run. They needed Jackson Scott. More than they needed you.

You grabbed your purse, dropping off a side of Mayo and a refill on the Iced Tea at your table, before heading out. “Another server will be taking over for me,” you told them smoothly.

You left out the front doors, and you didn’t start crying until you were a few buildings down the sidewalk.

* * * *

You wake up the next morning, blearily scrubbing your hands over your itchy and puffy eyes. What a crappy evening that had been.

You’d spent the evening googling the heck out of Jackson Scott. He was an MIT grad, and he had built and sold several technology companies, and he was an investor in a variety of industries. Photos showed him with his large clan, and he seemed involved in a good amount of charities.

Studying his photos last night, you could NOT get over how good looking he was. He was broad shouldered with muscles, he had a rugby player’s build. His gleaming tusks curved over his upper lip. Dark forest green eyes and great bone structure.

Plus, he had recently had an interview in GQ, and the stylist had had fun with a few shots – Mr. Scott was apparently a Calvin's briefs kind of guy. If those briefs (and what was likely under them) had made their way through your dreams, you couldn’t be blamed! You couldn’t control your subconscious!

He probably had a good PR team, but your Senses told you that this wasn’t the type of guy to make a scene at a restaurant. But he had made a scene, and you had had to quit.

You rummage around to try to find your phone in your bed, eventually snagging it.

*** 47 Notifications ***

You groan to yourself.

You’d turned your phone on airplane mode as soon as you left the restaurant, and promptly carbo-loaded as soon as you got to your apartment.

Sighing, you went to the kitchen to make some coffee. As it started brewing, you began cleaning up after last night’s pity party, loading your dishwasher and wiping down the counter.The buzzer on your apartment rang.

**** BZZZZZZT ****

You ignored it.

**** BZZZZZZT ****

Go away!” you said aloud.

Couldn’t the world respect your need to mope?!?!

**** BZZZZZZT ****

The buzzing became more insistent.

**** BZZZZZZT ****

You harrumphed and walked over to the speaker, pressing the button. “I’m not in the mood to see anyone today!” you snarked into it.

“Ms. Alexander, I apologize for disturbing you,” said the voice of the and only Jackson Scott. “We had a terrible misunderstanding yesterday, and I’d like to meet with you to remedy it as soon as possible.”

Your mouth dropped open in surprise. What in the actual hell?!“How do you know where I live?!” you said tersely into the speaker. Surely this asshat had something better to do than creep on chubby witches?!

He cleared his throat into the speaker. “Ahem, well, yes I may have glanced in your personnel file. I grew worried last night when you didn’t answer messages from myself or Gio.”

You opened your mouth to speak. Closed it. Opened it.

Feeling like a fish, you cast your eyes desperately around.

Pressing on, he said, “Would you be amenable to a breakfast meeting? Or a lunch meeting? I have to go run a few errands, and then I could meet you at that little cafe down the street in two hours?”

Realizing he was determined to meet with you, yet respecting your boundaries by asking you to a public place, you decided to cut him some slack.

You pressed the buzzer. “Okay sure. I’ll see you there in two hours.”

“Great, thank you for being so accommodating,” he quickly replied. “I’ll see you there soon.”

As soon as the crackle of the speaker stopped, you were seized with a terrible realization.

You were going to brunch with Jackson Scott, and you had no idea what to wear.

************************

One hour and fifty-three minutes later, you were waiting outside the cafe. After agonizing over outfits, ou had gone for what you hoped was chic casual, high waisted jeans and a front tucked white cotton button down with keds. You put your long hair in a messy bun, braiding a headband to make it clear you put in effort – but not so much that you cared too much.

You went up to put your name on the list, “Hi, table for two? For Breanna?” The place was packed, and you weren’t sure how long the wait would be.

“Breanna Alexander?” the human hostess asked you. .

“Uhh, yeah?”

“Right this way please.”

She took you to the back garden, where tables were interspersed in amongst raised flower beds. The flower beds gave the feeling that each table was in its own garden, and also made the air smell divine.

You loved this cafe.

Turning a corner, you could see Jackson Scott seated at a table (in a corner, of course). He was almost too tall for the chair, one leg crossed flat over the other. He wore casual dark jeans and a light gray hoodie sweater.

You brought up your Senses, shielding yourself from any aggressive energy that may come your way.

You got to the table, and he stood to greet you. The hostess placed some menus down, murmuring something you didn’t catch.

“Thank you for meeting me,” he said, his hand outstretched for a professional handshake. He seemed earnest and a little nervous.

“Well, I was a little worried you would stay outside of my building until I did,” you joked lightly, stretching out a hand and clasping his.

His hand engulfed yours. Oh dear.

He warmly grasped your hand, and then released it. You put your bag down, and then sat.

Okayyyyyy, you said to yourself. This is a professional breakfast meeting. You need to make sure you call him on his shitty behavior, keep it together and not drool.

He cleared his throat. “I want to start this out right. First of all, I want to apologize for my terrible behavior yesterday. This has been a month from hades, but that’s no excuse for howI acted. I apologized and made amends with Jill and Gio.”

Oh god is this going to be a non-apology? Wait, why had this been a month from hell?

“And now, I’d like to apologize to you,” he said looking deep into your eyes.

He looked at you steadily.

“I am so sorry for what occurred yesterday. I am sorry that you felt you had to quit your job to help resolve the mess, and I deeply admire your quick thinking in a tough situation. However, I’m not the kind of Orc who would expect or demand someone to quit over an accident. I know Gio has reached out to you to be clear your job is still yours if you want it, and I wanted to meet with you in-person to promise that I would not behave that way in the future.”

He finished and looked at you, waiting. You lowered the defenses a bit on your Senses, to try to get an idea of how sorry he was.

His energy was truly apologetic, truly apologetic. You were getting embarrassment, self-consciousness and a good bit of hope from him.

Just then, the waitress came by. “Have you decided what you’re having?” she asked, looking at you.

You hadn’t even looked at the menu.

“Can you give us another few moments?”

“Sure!” she said brightly. “I’ll just bring around some coffee if that’s okay?”

You nodded and then looked at Jackson.

“Have you had the waffles?” he asked. “Not that I’m biased or anything, but I think the combination of sugar and carbs could help put you in a more forgiving mood.” His eyes sparkled at you with humor.

“Or a food coma,” you joked back.

Now that the tension had eased a bit, you realized you didn’t really hate him. His apology had been full and fair, and hadn’t been one of those half-ass apologies you were used to the men in your life making. Aaaand, truth be told, you probably should’ve offered to quit and let him get a few words in, before marching out of Vinnie’s yesterday. You could be a tad impulsive.

“There’s no need for waffles to inspire forgiveness,” you said to him. “You acted like a total asshat, but I really appreciate you going above and beyond to fix things.”

His shoulders relaxed. “It’s good to hear that,” he said. “Do you want to look over the menu? I know what I’m ordering.”

“Me too,” you said instantly.

“Waffles?”

“No, pancakes! Which are better in every way.”

This then sparked a debate about breakfast foods, which turned into you talking about food in general and travel. Jackson was really smart and witty, and he was so fun to talk to.

As the meal winded down, you realized that you didn’t want brunch to end. You really liked spending time with him. And looking at him.

“So, there was another reason I was hoping to talk to you,” he shared, as the waitress took away the plates. His energy wavered, and you could tell this was important to him. “I invested in Vinnie’s because it’s one of the only restaurants in the city that accommodates different species, and I wanted to help grow that.”

You nodded. This was one of the many reasons you loved working there.

He continued. “That said, there have been limitations. Species that aren’t as humanoid, say Driders for example, are welcome to come – but the staff has to move around furniture and it can make booking complicated. Many beings want to come, but are worried about putting the staff out by having them have to go through extra work. I know you’re studying computer science, so I was hoping we could design some sort of online reservation system – like an app – that would help us better plan for and accommodate different beings. Someone could book through the app, and their profile would signal staff as to what changes need to be made. There’s a lot of kinks to work out – wait, before I go on, is that something you’d be interested in?”

Wow, you were NOT expecting this. You did have experience in app design, and you could probably license an existing reservation platform and modify it to your needs. Your mind starting whirling.

“Breanna..?” he asked, uncertain as to what you were gonna say.

“Oh, sorry!” you said, your face scrunching in embarrassment. “I would be absolutely LOVE to work with you on this project. How do we get started? How do you see this working, from a meetings and timeline perspective?”

His energy perked immediately, and you could feel his excitement.

“Well, we’d have to start with user interviews….”

****

About a month later, part of your apartment was covered in frameworks and sketches. Jackson had given you a small team to lead, and you were having a blast learning how to delegate different parts of the platform to the other freelance contractors on the project - as well as learning a lot in the coding and design portion. Jackson was pretty involved, meeting with you throughout the week and staying updated on progress.

Jackson acted more like a collaborator than a boss, trusting your experience and know-how. But, technically, he was your boss (client?) as he was approving your invoices for freelance development.

And you had a giant huge crush on him. You’d been having steamy daydreams about him for weeks, many of which involved you, him, the restaurant and a variety of sexual positions involving the bar.

Luckily he was an Orc with zero empathic abilities, or this would be really awkward. Guys like Jackson Scott did not go for chubby computer nerds, they dated, like, supermodels. Or high powered business women. Or high powered business women who were ALSO supermodels.

UGH.

Your pity party was interrupted by your phone chiming, and you jumped to grab it. You had assigned a specific ringtone to Jackson. You told yourself it was because this was your first fully professional project, but the butterflies in your stomach said differently. In a positively Pavlovian move, you scampered over to your phone, eager to see what it said.

Hey, Breanna – I’m going to need to move our meeting next week. I have to go out of town.

Ugh. Probably to take his supermodel-tycoon girlfriend on a trip.

The phone chimed again.

A screenshot of his calendar popped up.

Is there a time you see free that would work for us to meet? I realize it’s a lot to ask, but maybe in the evening?

Shoot. Looking at his schedule you realized your classes, study nights and group project meetings all happened when he was free.

The only time he was and you were free was tomorrow night, which was a Friday night.

Hey, no problem! You texted back. Our schedules almost totally clash, unfortunately. IDK if this works for you, but I could do tomorrow night? I realize you probably have some event or probably forgot to put something on your calendar, but I can move my Netflix marathon to a different night.

You sent it without thinking, then read it back as you waited for him to reply. Reading back over it, you groaned.

Great. You had just told Jackson Scott you had no life. You usually kept Friday night free to decompress, socializing on Saturday night or during the weekend.

Then another, even worse thought hit you. What if he thought you were trying to finagle this into a DATE?!

Nope, nothing on Friday night! He replied.

Thank all the gods.

Would you prefer to meet at the office? My home office? Wherever works for you.

Eugh, go into an office building on a Friday evening? No thanks. But also you were pretty sure you’d feel super nervous and out of sorts at his home. You didn't know what his setup would be like, and you’d probably get all jittery worrying about his tech working or having a whiteboard to brainstorm on or or or

Then it hit you. He could just come to your place. You had everything here already, and your walls were practically ready for a presentation. You had met with a few of the other contractors in your apartment, Skyping in the others who didn’t live in the city.

Would you be okay to come to my place? I already have everything taped up, gantt charts and all. You texted back, knowing it was definitely the best solution for you.

Sure! He instantly replied.

We could do a 6-9pm meeting? Order takeout and eat while we work?

Perfect! You replied. Just no waffles. ;)

****

“This is not a date,” you told your reflection sternly to your reflection in the mirror. “This is a professional project update. You are a professional. You are a leading business woman.”

You jabbed your finger at your reflection for emphasis.

“You are an empowered and capable business woman!”

**** BZZZZZZT ****

It was show time.

“Come on up,” you said through the speaker.

In a few moments, Mr. Jackson Scott was in your kitchen.

Righto.

“Hey,” he said. He swung his laptop bag off his shoulder and put it on the counter. Your mouth went dry seeing his shoulder muscles flex as he put it down. He wore his usual uniform of dark jeans and a button down dress shirt. You were wearing a jersey jumpsuit, your hair in a high ponytail.

“Food should be here any minute. I realized it would be faster if we had it delivered instead of me picking it up.”

“That makes sense,” you said. “Do you want to jump on in or should we wait for food to get here?”

**** BZZZZZZT ****

“Never mind,” you said with a laugh, and a few moments later you were dumping chow-mein onto a plate. You used your counter as a table, him on one side and you on the other, as your table was covered with project materials.

You chatted with him comfortably about school and Vinnie’s while you ate, and he told you some funny stories about his nieces and nephews. Whipping out his phone, he started showing you pictures.

“This is Carrie learning how to hula hoop,” he said laughing, swiping through photos of an adorable orc kiddo, who looked to be about 7-years-old. She was gleefully laughing in the photo, and she seemed pretty proud of herself.

“She’s so cute!” you exclaimed.

Just then a bubble notification appeared at the top of his screen. Before you could stop yourself, your eyes darted up to the top of the screen.

Just make a move already, dude!

Then another bubble

Just be honest with her, she’s not going to think you’re a creep…..

Then another bubble popped up

Waiting until the app is done isn’t gonna work, because it’s gonna need updates. It won’t ever be totally….. [read more]

Jackson made a choking noise, then pushed the lock button his phone, putting it facedown on the countertop. You stared at it. Why was his friend talking about making a move and their app…?

Oh.

Your face felt hot. Oh goddess, were you blushing? You bet you looked like a tomato right now. Your eyes met his.

He cleared his throat.

“So, um, this was not how I wanted to have this conversation,” he said, sheepishly running his hand through his hair. There were those dang arm muscles again.

“I didn’t want to say anything, because it puts you in a really awkward spot if you’re not interested in me, too.”

He glanced down at his phone. “But, since we’re here, I guess I’ll just try to be an honest adult about this.”

“‘I’m, uh, really into you. Like really into you. and I’m really attracted to you. You’re smart, gorgeous, funny, and I love spending time with you. I’d like to date, if, um, well, you’d be interested in seeing where this goes…?”

Your brain had fitzed out. Date Jackson Scott? Jackson Scott thought you were gorgeous?

Your daydreams and, ahem, sex dreams came running through your mind. Spending time with Jackson? Talking with him more? Kissing Jackson? Getting naked with Jackson? Sucking Jackson off on the bar at Vinnie’s–

“Breanna?” he asked. “If you need some time to think about this, I can totally go..? We can reschedule?”

You snapped back to the present, where real sexy-ass Jackson Scott had just told you he was into you.

“Oh, um, no! I’m sorry, I spaced out for a minute imagining jumping your bones. I’d love to, um, date you.”

His face broke out in a grin. “Jump my bones, huh?”

You felt your face return to its previous tomato state.

“Sorry, I definitely need to do a better job of thinking before I speak –”

He came around the counter, standing in front of you. “No, I think you did a pretty good job of stating your position,” he said, bending down a bit, so that his mouth was about an inch away fro yours. “I’m up for whatever you’re up for.”

Galvanized by his lips so close to yours, you leaned up into him. You kissed him hard, standing up and leaning into him. His hands came around you, starting at your waist.

You arched your back into him, going on your tip toes to get his hands to go a bit lower. He obliged, kneading your lower back as he tongued your mouth. His hands went lower, cupping your ass cheeks.

Needing to feel him against you, you jumped up on the counter, wrapping your legs around his torso. You had fantasized about this so many times, and you ached to just rub yourself on him. You loved the feeling of rubbing your clit over jeans.

He gasped into your mouth as he felt you grind your pussy over his crotch. “I’ve wanted to feel that for so long,” he said, panting and kissing his way along your neck.

“Mmmm, me too,” you moaned as he nipped where your neck met your shoulder.

Your breasts felt heavy, your nipples aching as they rubbed through your lacy bralette against his chest. God you really wanted his hands on your nipples.

You tore at the top of your jumpsuit, pulling it off your shoulders so you could feel his mouth on your breasts. He kissed the newly exposed skin of your shoulders as you shrugged out of it, his hot mouth making you ever more wet.

His hands traced along the edges of your bralette, teasing you. “Jackson,” you whined.

“Oh, am I allowed to see what’s under here?” he lightly teased you, as you writhed under his caresses.

“Yes, please,” you whined. “I need to feel your mouth on me–”

He shoved down your bralette, exposing your breasts. Your nipples were completely erect. He tweaked one breast and drew his mouth over the other. Sucking and nibbling your breast, you moaned low for him.

“Oh my god, just like that, please, oh my god I need more –”

“What do you need baby, tell me what you need,” he murmured.

“Harder, I need you to bite harder” you said, ending your words in a wail as he bit your nipple harder and twisted the other one.

“Oh FUCK,” you moaned, feeling an orgasm begin to build.

“Please, my pussy,” you whined, and his hand dipped down to your crotch.

“You want my fingers inside of you?” he murmured, his hand cupping you.

“Yes, please, fuck me, fuck me hard!”

He moved away from you, swiftly pulling off the rest of your jumpsuit in one fell swoop.

“You’re so wet for me baby,” he crooned in your ear, slipping a finger inside. “I can’t wait to have you ride my face. I can’t wait to feel you ride my cock.”

His finger pumped in and out of you. He added a second finger, looking at your reaction. “More, please!” you begged.

He added a third finger, and you could feel your juices running down your thighs.

“Please Jackson, please!! Fuck me hard!”

He growled, his chest rumbling. “Oh, I’ll fuck you hard, baby,” he said. He pistoned his hand in and out of you, and you met every thrust. Your orgasm built up inside of you, and he masterfully brought you to the edge, once and then twice – backing off before you could orgasm.

“Jackson, please!” you wailed.

“Please, what, baby?” he asked, grinning down at you as he continued fucking your pussy.

“Please make me cum!!”

His grin broadened, and he increased the speed. “Like that, baby? You want it like that?”

“Yes!” you screamed, the sound cut off as his mouth covered yours. You felt your pussy convulse around his hand, and you bucked with pleasure.

Wow.

Your head fell against his chest, as you tried to remember how to fill your lungs with air.

“How you doing?” he asked, tipping your chin up to be able to see your face.

“I’m feeling pretty ready for round two,” you said, your hand trailing around to cup his still hard cock.

He thrust into your hand.

“I have condoms in my room,” you said, rubbing his length.

He swung you up into his arms and into the bedroom.

“Jump his bones,” indeed.

I hope you enjoyed this story!! I’m excited to be writing more, and as with all authors, if you like it – reblog it! <3

Send me a KoFi here, or check out my fave erotic monster novels on Amazon here!

#orc boyfriend #monster boyfriend #exophillia #exophilia creators #orc/reader #orc/human #modern orc

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shianhygge-imagines · 4 years

Text

Sundown 勿忘草 [Reno/Reader]{Final Fantasy VII} Episode 2

AN: Here’s the next part of Sundown Wasurenagusa! I’m sorry that I’ve been slow on posting any new story material! I had a bit of a writers’ block, and I’m still trying to work through it!

I had intended for this to be much longer, but I felt like this part was a good length to post. The first part of this ‘episode’ is going to be formatted weird because I can’t get Tumblr to format a text conversation in the way that I want.

If you like the content I create, please consider donating to my Ko-fi! Please help me feed my tea addiction!

|Masterlist Link|

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

December 12

Reno {07:10}

[Good morning, sleeping beauty]

Me {08:30}

[Morning]

[Do you not need sleep?]

[You probably went to bed late last night]

[And while it truly does make my day to hear from you]

[Why? It’s so early ;.;]

Reno {08:40}

[Can you blame a guy for being eager to talk to you?]

[Lol, Sorry. I didn’t disturb you, did I?]

Me {08:59}

[>///<]

[No, you’re good. I gotta get up to get ready anyways.]

[Flatterer]

Reno {09:34}

[I mean, can you blame me? ;) ]

[So, I was thinking about taking you on a date outside of Midgar, but I realized that I should probably get your opinion on it first]

Me {10:01}

[I mean, that depends? How early do I have to get up on my day off? And how long will it take to get there?]

Reno {10:05}

[Um… well, it’s getting pretty chilly in Midgar, so I was thinking about taking you to Costa del Sol… beach date :P]

Me {10:30}

[…]

[Costa del Sol is pretty far, Reno…]

Reno {10:31}

[And?]

[I’ve got a way]

[Don’t sweat the details]

Me {10:32}

[You’re taking a company helicopter, aren’t you -.-]

Reno {10:33}

[Ack! You’ve figured out my master plan!]

Me {10:34}

[Are Turks even allowed to take company assets out for joy rides?]

Reno {10:35}

[ TT^TT I told you not to sweat the details!]

Me {10:40}

[I just don’t want you to get into any trouble.]

Reno {10:50}

[Awww, don’t worry about me.]

[You have a party to attend later, so do me a favor and have fun, okay?]

Me {11:03}

[That reminds me…]

Reno {11:05}

[??]

Me {11:11}

[bluedress.jpg sent]

(The image is of you in a sapphire blue dress, the sleeves long and neck high. The dress itself ends just below your knees)

[This dress?]

[reddress.jpg sent]

(The second image is of you in a backless ruby dress that ends just above the knee. There are no sleeves to this dress despite the fact that it has a high neck)

[Or this dress?]

Reno {11:13}

[…]

[Y/N]

Me {11:15}

[Reno]

[???]

Me {12:01}

[If I don’t look good in either of them, just be honest ;.;]

Reno {13:05}

[Gah! Sorry, I got pulled away for something]

[The red one. For sure]

Me {13:06}

[Just because red’s your color… >.>]

[I hope you’re okay, Reno ;.;]

Reno {13:15}

[Hey, first of all, remember what I said about red being your color?]

[I don’t lie, k?]

[But also, yeah. Also because it’s my color, you should wear it ;)]

[Do you have a sixth sense or something?]

[image.jpg]

(Opening up the image file gifts you with a selfie of Reno, looking minorly roughed up and being supported by an infrantryman. He looks like he’s by the old church that Aerith likes to visit. Despite needing to be supported by the infantryman, the red headed Turk’s winking and holding up a peace sign)

[Just a few minor bruises ;P I’ll be fine]

[Unless….]

[You want to kiss me better? ;)]

Me {13:30}

[… Well. I’m sorry for worrying (¬_¬) ]

Reno {13:45}

[Joking, joking! :D]

[All patched up]

Reno {14:07}

[Y/N?]

(´༎ຶོρ༎ຶོ`)

[I’m sorry.]

[Please talk to meeeeeee]

Me {14:00}

[image.jpg]

(It’s a picture of you in the red dress. Your hair is done up with an attractive amount of make up. You’re wearing a sensible set of black flats.)

[The party starts in an hour, so I might be answering my phone too often.]

[And Costa del Sol sounds perfect for tomorrow ;) I’ve got my outfit all picked out]

Reno {14:15}

[Uh, yeah, that’s gonna be your new contact photo]

[I’m picking you up earlier than we agreed so that we can have more time to relax in the sun]

[Duty calls. Have fun tonight, okay?]

Me {14:20}

[And what? My contact photo for you is going to be this?]

[screenshot.jpg]

(It’s a screenshot of your mobile phone screen. There’s an edit with a red arrow pointing directly at the photo icon for Reno’s contact…it’s the photo that he sent earlier except you’ve photoshopped cartoon ‘uwu’ eyes and added pink anime blush to his cheeks)

[And don’t worry, I’ll probably have enough fun for the both of us.]

[We’ll have fun tomorrow, be safe, okay?]

Reno {14:30}

[I’ll try ;) But if not, I’ll have you to take care of me.]

[Also? That picture?]

[P.E.R.F.E.C.T]

Me {18:30}

[Hope you’re safe!]

[Message me after work to let me know you’re okay!]

[image-2.jpg]

(It’s a group photo of you and your friends in silly poses)

Me {19:21}

[image-3.jpg]

(It’s a close up shot of a delicious plate of food)

[I should have brought you with me ;.;]

|You called Reno| 20:58

[Unable to leave voicemail]

December 13 - 08:21

The morning after the confrontation with AVALANCHE at the Sector 7 Pillar, one would expect the medical bay in Shinra HQ to be jam packed full of patients. There should have been a horde of doctors and nurses, running around to treat the injured infantryman and civilian survivors. But there were only two individuals in the med bay, Reno and Rude. When the plate fell, only a handful of infantryman were able to escape the chaos. Many were left behind to fend for themselves.

Despite surviving a helicopter crash and the brawl with Tifa, Barret, and Cloud, Rude only sustained a few bruises and minor bone fractures. He had been assigned bedrest after being treated by the doctors, but the weight of what he and his partner had been tasked to do twelve hours ago felt like an overwhelming burden. Needing something to keep his mind occupied, the taller of the iconic Turk duo simply engrossed himself in a novel that Elena had brought over during her visit.

On the bed beside Rude’s, Reno groaned in pain as he sat up, eyes still not open and alert as he raised a hand to press against his pounding head. “Gah, what the hell.” Reno’s face stung at the cheeks when his face scrunched up at the pain that seemed to come from every part of him. Even the act of sitting up proved too painful due to his newly broken ribs.

Rude watched his partner sink back into the sheets from his own medical bed, sunglasses on as was usual of him. He wondered how long it would take Reno to realize that it had been nearly twelve hours since they had dropped the plate. He also wondered when his sassy partner in crime would realize that he had a date this morning. Of course, Rude didn’t think you’d get angry at Reno for missing a date when he was hospitalized, but the taller of the iconic Turk pair knew that Reno would never forgive himself for skipping out on you.

While Rude watched, Reno allowed his body to collapse back into bed, an exhausted and pained groan escaping his lips as he want, arms flopping onto the bed as he fought to remember what had happened to land him in such a pitiful state.

Oh yeah…Rude and I went to Sector 7’s plate… and we fought blondie’s group of self righteous freedom fighters… and then…I blacked out. Cracking both eyes open, Reno furrowed his brows and turned his head to examine his surroundings. Med bay back at HQ… The red head swiveled in place to stare at Rude, “The mission….” He trailed off with a questioning tone.

His partner merely grunted, “We finished it and escaped.” Lacking in detail, but still straight to the point.

Sighing in relief that his work track record wouldn’t have a stain on it, Reno flopped back down, “Whooo…” The red head cheered sarcastically, pumping a fist without any energy or cheer behind it. Gah, and I promised Y/N that I’d be safe… Reno’s eyes snapped open and he bolted to a seating position with an alarmed cry, “Crap! Y/N! What time is it?” Shit, I gotta message her to let her know that I’m going to be running late! The Turk second in command thought as he pat down his person for his cell phone.

When he couldn’t find it, Reno turned to his partner, who gestured towards the bedside table. “It was damaged during our fight with AVALANCHE, but it should still be working.”

Not paying any attention to the fact that he was now bleeding through the bandages wrapped around his abdomen, Reno grinned, “Whooo boy! Partner, you’re a life saver!”

The sheer amount of relief within Reno voice made Rude stop and stare at his partner. Hmm… maybe Reno’s serious about her after all.

Meanwhile, Reno quickly unlocked his phone screen, ignoring the fact that the glass display seemed shattered beyond repair. When he pulled up the chat room that he shared with Y/N, Reno cursed, “Five missed messages and one missed call.” Quickly reading through the text messages, and smiling at how much fun you were having at the party, Reno tapped out a quick message in reply to you before listening to the voicemail that you had left.

Yesterday

Y/N {19:21}

[image-3.jpg]

(Reno’s mouth watered at the sight of the food in the picture)

[I should have brought you with me ;.;]

|Missed call from Y/N| 20:58

[Click to listen to voicemail]

Today - December 13

Me {08:43}

[Gah, sorry Y/N, I may have bit off more than I could chew yesterday.]

[I just woke up in the med bay at HQ]

[I’m going to be a little late picking you up]

[And I’m a little roughed up]

[But nothing is stopping me from taking you on our date!]

[See you in an hour?]

When Reno lifted his damaged cell phone to listen to the voicemail that you had left him, the only sound that reached his ears was an error notification that the voice recording app had failed. “I’m sorry, but the voicemail recording that you wish to listen to failed to load properly. Please quite all applications before trying again. If the problem still persists, please contact Shinra Mobile’s technical support service to resolve this issue.” The phone recording informed Reno, pleasantly.

Knowing from experience that getting through to technical support at the current hour was next to impossible, Reno merely tapped out another message.

Me {08:47}

[Hey, the voicemail that you sent to me didn’t go through.]

[What was it about?]

Satisfied with the messages that he’d sent out, Reno shifted to get out of bed, an excited grin on his lips. “Welp! Time to get going! Got a wonderful day off with a gorgeous gal!”

Sighing, Rude lowered the novel to look in his partner’s direction. “Your date with Y/N?” When Reno only gave a sassy shrug in reply, Rude shook his head, “Just remember, you’re still injured.”

“Will do, partner!” Reno saluted the older man before dashing out of the med bay, dodging the nurses swiftly as he made his way to the elevators, itching to get back to the Turk dorms to change into something that would help him blend into the slum crowds of Sector 5. On his way to his room, the red headed Turk would raise his phone to check for any new messages, lowering it in disappointment every time there was no response.

“That’s weird, normally she responds by now.” Reno mused, sending out another quick text once he’d changed into dark jeans, a red hoodie, and a dark beige trucker jacket.

Me {09:12}

[I’m on my way to your place now.]

[Are you awake?]

Around twenty minutes later, on the helicopter ride down to the Sector 5 slums, Reno furrowed his brows and bit the inside of his lip when you didn’t respond again.

Me {09:32}

[Y/N?]

[Please answer.]

[I’m on a helicopter down now]

[Message back. I’m getting worried.]

When there is still no response, Reno taps on your contact and brings the phone up to his ear, trying to call you.

“Hey, this is Y/N. I’m probably away from the phone right now, so leave a message, and I’ll call you back as soon as possible.”

Straight to voicemail.

Something wasn’t right, and Reno could feel it in his bones.

When the helicopter started to land in the Shinra barracks, Reno didn’t even wait for the helicopter to fully land before jumping out of the aerial vehicle, landing solidly before taking off in a sprint towards your apartment.

She’s not answer any of the text messages… Did she lose her phone last night? Did she accidentally break it?… Did she find out what I did yesterday? Is she ignoring me?

The worries and thoughts that raced through Reno’s mind became more and more self-depricating as he neared entered the main town area and brushed past the crowds of people gathered in the streets. I know I said it was too late to grow a conscious, but damn it, please don’t let this be the reason she decides that she doesn’t want me around.

All but flying up the metal steps to your apartment, Reno starts to bang on your front door, calling your name in the meanwhile. “Y/N!” Bang bang bang “It’s Reno!” Bang bang bang “You weren’t answering your phone. Are you ready to go?” It took another few minutes of knocking before Reno head a door open below and slow footsteps ascend the metal stairwell.

Turning and expecting to see you standing there, Reno’s shoulders visibly slumped when he came face to face with a tiny old lady. “Oh, uh. Sorry for causing a disturbance.”

“Are you looking for Y/N, young man?” The old woman inquired, tilting her head to look up at Reno through friendly old eyes.

Feeling as if he was being judged by the elderly woman, Reno stood ramrod straight and nodded, clearing his throat, “Uh, yeah. We had plans for today.”

The old woman nodded sagely, “I see, I see. Ah, to be young again. I’m sorry to disappoint you, young man, but Y/N hasn’t been home since yesterday afternoon. I think she’s still at her friend’s home.”

The first traces of alarm flashed through Reno’s head, and suddenly his Turk persona was back, “Do you happen to know where her friend lives, ma’am?”

The old woman shook her head, “I only know that dear Selene doesn’t live in Sector 5. I’m sorry, young man.”

Suddenly jittery, Reno only nods and descends the metal staircase again, “Thanks for the help. I should get going.”

Reno doesn’t hear the old woman’s reply because he’s sprinting back towards the Shinra barracks, ears ringing and vision narrowed as he contacts a friend in Shinra’s tech department for help tracking down your cell phone’s location and retrieving the voicemail you’d left him. And while his friend works on it, Reno decided to change into a clean set of his uniform, mind suddenly kicked into overdrive as he tries to recall where you said your friend’s party was.

Gah, Reno… you pay attention to everything else she says, but you can’t figure out where her friend Selene lives? Some Turk you are! Reno scolds himself as he paces back and forth in Y/N’s office, somehow trying to find comfort in familiar surroundings. Damnit, think! What has she mentioned in the past about her friends. I only remember her talking about living in Sector 7 for a whi- Reno pauses in his steps as dread begins to pool in his stomach. “No.” He doesn’t want to entertain the possibility that you had gone to a party at your childhood sector the same night that he was tasked with dropping the plate on top of hundreds. But the more that Reno thinks about it, the more likely the possibility is, and he sinks to his knees in the middle of your office, eyes wide with horror and denial. “No… I refuse to believe it. Gotta wait for-”

His phone chimes with a notification.

Pulling out his phone as fast as possible without fumbling the already hazardously damaged device, Reno unlocks the screen, only to see that a voice file had been sent to him along with tracking coordinates.

Clicking on the voicemail and tracker, Reno’s frown deepens and his face pales as he stares at the map of Sector 7 Slums with a red dot in the center of it, the sounds of your final message to him playing in the background.

No.

The voice recording loops until Reno regains his bearings, body shaking and eyes burning as his ears pick up the sounds of explosions in the background, of your sobs as you fought to leave a last message for the man who had thoughtlessly killed you, and of your fear and acceptance that you wouldn’t live past that moment. The phone slips from his hands and clatters to the floor as Reno’s fingers go slack. “No… I didn’t… Y/N…” A strangled sob escapes Reno’s lips as he raises a hand to grip onto his hair, trying to maintain his composure, “I didn’t mean to… If I’d known, I would have…” The Turk second in command paused and hunched in on himself, not caring if anyone could see him through the glass walls of your office.

M-maybe she left her phone behind when she ran? But… if she’s not there, then where would she have gone if not home?

There weren’t any excuses or any other reason he could come up with. Reno knew that. If he had known beforehand that you would be in Sector 7 Slums, he would have warned you, but you would have tried to evacuate as many people as possible from that sector, and AVALANCHE might have managed to leave, therefore ending in a failed mission. He would have done everything he could to make sure you stayed away from Sector 7, but in the end, he’d still go through with the mission.

“I killed her.” Reno sobbed in realization, biting his bottom lip so hard that he tasted copper, “Just like I killed all those people.” Shaking his head, inconsolable, Reno could only mourn quietly. “I’m just the worst. This is karma for all the shit things I did in life, isn’t it?”

Eyes dulled and slightly puffy, Reno hastily wiped at his face and sat down with his back against your desk, his phone ringing with notifications as Tseng and Rude sent him requests for ‘status’ updates. And the Turk second in command ignored his colleagues, eyes staring into nothingness as he wreaked his brain for what to do next.

I really was looking forward to the date. Reno’s thoughts trailed off, It’s sappy as hell, but I wanted to ask her to be my girlfriend. Tseng said that relationships for Turks never ended well, citing Veld as an example, but… gah! This is the worst situation for Tseng to be right!

It was only the early afternoon… maybe he could start a search party for survivors… it was probably too late, but Reno knew that he had to do something to look for you. With renewed purpose, Reno got to his feet and marched out of your office, blue eyes burning with fiery determination as he hung onto the faint hope that you might have survived.

December 13 - 12:13

You groaned in pain and shifted your body, eyes cracking open to be met with blinding industrial lights. The pain from the glaring lights startled you into closing your eyes again, turning until your body was facing away from them. For a moment, you wondered why you were laying on some sort of weird metallic floor instead of your soft bed, and then the memories of a falling sky sent your eyes flying back open as you took in your surroundings.

The floor was indeed cold and metallic because it looked as if you’d woken up in a maintenance passage. Despite most maintenance passages usually being dimly lit, the one you found yourself lying in was lit from both of the walls. The ceiling above your face had a hole in it, though it was covered with metal and concrete chunks. You assumed, as you clambered to your feet, that you’d fallen through that hole and rolled a few feet away due to the pile of rubble directly beneath the hole. Wincing slightly, you poked and prodded your person for bruises, broken bones, or fractures. Slightly satisfied with just a few small skin lesions, bruises, and maybe a fractured rib, you patted yourself down for your mobile phone, hoping to call for help. Frowning, you found that you did not have your cell phone on you, nor was it anywhere on the floor near you.

Since you hadn’t expected to live through a plate falling on top of you, you could only look on the bright side of things, turning to walk down the metal tunnel with determination set on your face. I didn’t almost die from a plate falling just to give up in an empty tunnel. Plus, a fond smile appeared on your face, I have a date waiting for me when I get back topside.

It seemed pretty simple to you. You’d falling who knows how far down, but you knew for sure that the way out was up. So the only thing to do was to keep walking until you found a passage up. Easy peasy.

December 13 - 15:35

There’s a fierce snarl on Reno’s face as he stands by several parked helicopters. All around him, emergency responders and Shinra infantrymen scrambled to load up supplies and equipment. The dark look on the normally sassy, easy-going Turk’s face seemed like a literal beacon for anyone not bearing good news to stay the away. Though, if some of the troops were to be honest, Reno had very good reason to be irate. The Turk second in command had called in an emergency rescue operation for survivors trapped among the plate wreckage nearly three and a half hours ago, and they were only just beginning to start the rescue operation.

After Tseng, the Turk commander, had authorized the mission to rescue anyone buried under the rubble, the mission had quickly been side-tracked by Shinra executives Scarlet and Heideggar. Scarlet had protested against the operation simply because of the notion that dogs living in the slums were of no use to Shinra, and therefore, the mission was a waste of resources. Heideggar, meanwhile, had agreed that while in times of disaster, Shinra’s army bore the responsibility of launching operations to rescue civilians affected, the members of AVALANCHE were widely unknown and could easily disguise themselves as regular civilians.

It took nearly two hours of careful negotiations and subtle ego inflating by Tseng and Reeve, before both executives agreed to support the relief effort. Viewing it as a strategic move to improve public opinion of the Shinra Company, President Shinra gave little to no resistance when Tseng forwarded the mission brief to be sanctioned.

Now, an hour after the mission was sanctioned, Reno felt the beginnings of a headache forming as he directed the flow of supplies to each helicopter before making sure that there were rotations of supplies and emergency responders that would journey to and from the wreckage of Sector 7 once he landed with the first round of helicopters.

When he had deemed all in good order to head out, Reno sighed and hopped into the helicopter cockpit, buckling himself in to the pilot’s seat. Plopping the headset on while he waited for the rest of the crew to load up into the helicopter, Reno busied himself with flipping switches to make sure that pre-flight and the ride down to Sector 7 would be as smooth as possible. When his co-pilot buckled himself in and gave Reno the thumbs up, the red headed Turk spoke as clearly and seriously as he could into the mic. “Alright guys and gals in all active units, hope you’re all buckled up with headsets on because I sure as hell will not be repeating this briefing.” After a brief pause, Reno continued to speak while directing the helicopter off the platform. “You all probably heard about what happened yesterday. The official reports from HQ state that AVALANCHE launched an attack to compromise Sector 7’s plate pillar. Despite all efforts directed to stop the terrorist attack, the plate still fell. Our job is to go down to the disaster zone to provide relief to all affected civilians. We will also be launching search and rescue operations for survivors.” Reno paused once more as helicopter gained enough air to safely fly out of the landing zone. “I’m gonna be real with you all. Someone important to me was in Sector 7’s Slums when the plate fell and I’m going to try my damnest to look for her. So if any of you fuck this up… not gonna lie, I’m gonna be pissed.” Nobody replied to Reno’s admittance… not that he really expected much of a reply after he dropped that bomb on them. Having enough of the silence, Reno exhaled, “Alright… good talk.”

December 13 - 16:03

It wasn’t easy peasy. Definitely fucking not.

The chrome walkways and exposed piping-lined maintenance passage that you had fallen into hadn’t been a simple few meters under the surface as you thought. No. It’s was more like several meters down with a layer of minor blocked off passageways right above. And, as if that weren’t terrible already? The maze of pathways that made up the layer above seemed to take joy in bringing you up a level, just to drop you back down a level because some asshole decided to seal off the passages at various points.

Your eye twitched in annoyance when you walked down a metal walkway only to be face to face with another fenced off passage lined with reinforced plating. To your surprise, you could see a man stumble around the corner of the opposite side. When you saw one another, your eyes widened. “Holy shit!” The man gasped, stumbling forward with a noticeable limp and sliced up arm. “I didn’t think there’d be another person down here!”

“This place is like a maze, so I’m not surprised that any survivors had yet to meet up. A-are… are you okay?” The blood leaking from the deep scratches in his left arm seemed to ooze a poisonous purple color.

The stranger bit his bottom lip as he hastily hid his injury, “Yeah… I’ll be fine. Listen, girl, you should watch out while down here. I think the rumors about the underground lab were true after all. There are monsters running around everywhere.” Your expression must have been one of utter dismay and despair because the man coughed and reached into his pocket to roll two materia under the fence. “Uh. Shit. Well, it looks like you could use these then. It’s a Cura and a Fira. Hopefully you won’t need it, but it’s better to be safe than sorry. Anyways, I hope you make it out of here, girl. I gotta keep looking for other AVALANCHE survivors.”

When the man made to jog away, you called out to him, “Wait! You said that you’re looking for AVALANCHE members? Are you one of them? Do you know what happened?” You pressed yourself against the fence in order to see the stranger from around the corner.

The stranger turned around to stare at you with a grim expression. “Whatever you’re thinking, AVALANCHE didn’t cause this, okay? We were framed by Shinra.” At your confused expression, the man scoffed, “C’mon, you really think that Shinra was going to let civilians protest and riot against them? They couldn’t figure out who was a member and who wasn’t, so they figured they’d drop the entire plate on top of us to get rid of us all.”

“But that’s such a drastic move!” You protested, wanting to believe that your employers wouldn’t have such blatant disregard for human life. “They wouldn’t just sacrifice thousands to eliminate AVALANCHE!”

“Believe what you want, girl. But the reality is that my friends and I all went to the pillar to stop Shinra from dropping the plate, and it dropped anyways because two Turks were sent to finish the job.” The stranger didn’t allow you to retort as he limped away. Not that you would have responded anyways with how the stranger had said that two Turks had arrived to help ensure that the Sector 7 plate dropped.

Pulling away from the fence, you knelt down to pick up the two orbs of materia, the color of your skin taking on a sickly pale pallor. Two Turks were sent to the pillar to drop the plate on top of all of us. Your mind instantly supplied the first Turk pair that you could think of and you felt like you were going to dry heave. I don’t know Rude too well, but from what I know, he and Reno wouldn’t do something so horrendous. Surely, there must have been another pair of Turks who were sent to do it. But you did work in a different department as them, how did you know that there were more members of the Turks? And with Reno’s position within the group… He could have known what was happening…

You told Reno that you would be hanging out with your best friend… that you guys were having a party. He’s smart enough to deduce that your friends still lived in Sector 7… Did he forget? Or… Your stomach churned violently as you sank to your knees on the cold metal walkway. Did Reno just decide he didn’t care if I survived or not?

The edge of your vision burned with tears threatening to spill down your cheeks. A simple blink sent them trailing down your cheeks as you stood upon shaky legs. “Can’t worry about that now.” You muttered, eyes filled with determination as you gathered the excess fabric of your dress to gird up your loins. “I need to find a way out of here. The tunnels might not be able to hold for long.”

Lifting your arm, you pressed one of the materia into your forearm, like you’d seen a few SOLDIERs do before, marveling at how the orb of power sank into the flesh of your arm. Smiling at how seamless it was to merge flesh with Materia, you pressed the other faintly glowing orb into your other forearm, concentrating for a bit before casting Cura upon yourself.

Newly rejuvenated, you back tracked through the metal corridor to find the ladder leading down. “Welp, there’s no time like the present,” you mumbled to yourself as you descended further into the tunnels below.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#shian imagines #final fantasy vii #Final Fantasy 7 #ffvii #ffviir #final fantasy vii remake #ffvii:remake #reno #reno x reader #final fantasy vii reno

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shownuxhyungwon · 5 years

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#in the middle of me working on the 7th jooheon gif of 9 from the showcase photoshop said fuck u and crashed #I literally hate my computer so much I need an upgrade bad #im so fucking mad at myself bc I never learn I could easily save the gifs as psds in case this shit happens but no #I upload all the files and then sharpen then color then save them all in one go and like... for what if this had happened before #im angry!!!!!!!! im not even gonna finish this set anymore im just gonna cry myself to sleep its 2 am I gotta be up in less than 4 hrs fuck #saddest thing of all is that I had the perfect coloring and ofc I never use the same coloring so now I dont even know how I made it... damn #maybe this time when I say im done making gifs ill mean it ugh im just so frustrated w myself like... FUCKCKFKFJDJJS

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vampireacademysims · 4 years

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Scrapped Story Challenge

I got tagged by @skyburned, thank you! <3

The Rules:

Post a few screenshots from a scrapped scene / edit / story!

Share why you scrapped this specific thing

Tag five friends, and watch the fun play out!

As for the Vampire Academy comic, I don’t actually have many scrapped scenes/edits, I actually only found one XD I tend to plan everything as to avoid wasting time on things I’ll not use, so I guess this was an exception.

This is the full panel that got cut to only focus on Rose’s face, back in chapter I - page 7 (top right). After the wasted time editing the whole thing to just use a bit of it made me rethink how I was doing things, so I plan better now. As for scrapped stories.... oh boy, sit down and have some popcorn XD Since it’s not VA related, I’ll put it under a cut. It’s trying to keep the comic going that is hindering alternate projects, but it’s nothing too new if you fallow my other Tumblr... unless you read to the end.

I don’t want to say these are scrapped stories.... more like, Temporarily In Limbo Projects:

The NaNo-born HP thing.

Before I started the VA comic, I nearly started a comic about an original story that was born in a NaNoWriMo over 10 years ago. It was a sort of alternate future of OCs I had in a Roleplay in back in the day, set in the Harry Potter universe. I never finished the story - 250 pages in English and 3 chapters away from finishing it to this day =’). Once a year I go back to read it just to feel the cringe.

What stopped me was all the extras I’d have to edit in, mainly cloaks and robes - because everyone had cloaks/robes, dragons (even if only for a chapter... 6 years ago no one had converted the dragons to sims 2 yet) and the hair of the protagonist. So I started VA instead, because it felt easier.

The AU Slice of Life thing.

From time to time, on my reblogs tumblr, I post images from the most “recent” OCs from the last roleplay I was in - I like to roleplay, ok? Once on FB a friend had posted a link to one of those online generators, there was one about generating demons and I tried it out. Funny enough, the very first result I got remembered about me about my character Thea. So I jumped to Sims and tried to make her as a demon, based on what the generator gave me and this was the result:

This was the first pass at the idea, but I wanted a tail and different feet...

And so came the no.2 pass, that I’m still sort of working on in the background. I liked this idea, placing my characters and the characters or my friend in a different setting. I wanted to write that story, but I needed the input of my friend and she doesn’t seem very interested, so I dunno if I’d be able to write a full story, I need her to bounce ideas with. Then I thought to just make slice of life images, the cool parts I have in my head, without having to layout a whole story. Again, problem would be having to edit things in, mainly tails (all tails would have to be hand painted in), feet aaand in the case of one of my friend’s girls, wings would have to be edited in. Oh and clothes. I don’t think finding decent harem style clothes is easy even today.

The I-Was-14-and-Wrote-Detective-Stories thing.

I got my first PC in 1996/7, no internet those days. And after I finished watching the last episode of a Brazilian soap opera about a female detective (A Justiceira), I decided create my own female detective and write stories. I wrote the 1st story in one hour and it only had 7 pages (in which I believed that American female detectives sporting midriff tops and high heel shoes to active work was completely normal). I still have those printed 7 pages XD And the cover I made for the book lol Only one friend of mine has ever lay eyes on those stories. It started all good and well, robberies and murders and stuff, but fast I branched out to human cloning, space travel, time travel, genetically altered wolves, alien abductions, religious/alien cults in Mexico, plane crashes, ghosts and an incident during the Paris-Dakar event... I was a huge X-Files fan at that time and got hugely influenced u_u I had 22 books planed, I wrote from 1997 to like 2003-ish if memory serves. Only finished 11 while the others stand in various degrees of scattered notes. As mentioned before, from time to time I go back to read it all and feel the ultimate cringe and wonder what I was on back in the day. It’s completely insane at times, but maybe with a bit (A LOT) of polish I could make something out of it. If nothing else, maybe remake the book covers in the Sims because back in the day it was only MS Paint and some cartoons on Powerpoint that I stripped and drew over on paint with a mouse to draw the covers and other scenes. It’s hilarious looking back at how dedicated I was, hot damn! I made wallpapers, Win95 desktop themes, Winamp skins, you name it XD That female Detective was the very first of my OCs and I never made her in the Sims correctly, maybe I should look into that because all I have to show for her is this XD Covers ranging from 1998 to 2003 (I only learned about Photoshop in 2005).

So these are my dirty little secrets that I might or might not one day act upon. Here, have a cookie if you made it this far. As for tags, people who have stories going probably have stuff to show so, @grecadeasimsstudios, @esotheria-sims, @veninorchid, @quiddity-jones, @cindysimblr, @grisdidthis :P Again, if it is not your cup of tea, it’s ok :)

#Scrapped Story Challenge #tagged by Skyburned #tagged stuff #more below cut because its not related to the VA comic #childhood things that have been my dirty secret

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imanativeofswlondondahling · 4 years

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Hidden in Plain Sight (3)- Tom Holland X Reader

A/N: This story is fun to write, but school is taking over little by little so sorry if this gets delayed more than I mean for it to be! Enjoy Chapter Three!

Word Count: 2165

Warnings: Swearing? Maybe? To be honest I can’t remember if I swore or not but knowing me I probably did. But there is mention of a killer moth so if that’s as trigger as it was when it was flying around my room then I’ll mention it here.

You had the absolute worst day. You were hoping it was going to be a good day since you had put on one of your favorite outfits to wear to work. But as soon as you got to work, everything turned into a shit show. A project you thought was finished didn’t save the last days edits, your boss got on you for something that was your coworker’s responsibility, and someone ate your lunch, which you’re not entirely sure how that happened, but it did. Add to it you have the start of what you think is a migraine, the last thing you want to do is anything work related, but because you’re behind on the project that is due tomorrow, you’ll probably be up all night working on it before going in tomorrow to continue working on it at the office. So heating up some soup to eat while you work, you decide to scroll through Tumblr while you wait for it to heat up.

The news of Spider-Man, and therefore Tom Holland, staying in the MCU still hasn’t died down, which let’s be honest why should it? It’s fantastic news. Out of all the Spider-Mans, Tom’s portrayal of it is your favorite and you would be so sad to see him taken from Marvel just because Sony, Marvel and Disney couldn’t come to an agreement on things. It’s only been a couple days since it was announced, but you wouldn’t be surprised if this was talked about for weeks at least. You reblog a couple of photos, adding some of your usual hashtags. Honestly, you want to be distracted by asks, but you know that the likelihood that people will respond is low, plus you shouldn’t let yourself be distracted by Tumblr when you have the project due tomorrow.

Hating seeing notifications, you click on the second icon from the right on the bottom of your screen. You clear off the notifications from reblogs and likes but notices your app is still showing a notification, on the messages side. It’s probably just from one of your friends. You flip over to the other screen and see a message from none other than Tomholland2013, who you’ve been messaging on and off over the past couple of days, ever since you sent him that edit.

You haven’t been super active on tumblr lately. Everything ok?x

Been super busy at work lol. Big deadlines coming up.

You don’t expect to get a message back since you figured from your messages where he mentioned he was in the early hours of the day while you were only in the late afternoon, that he was probably asleep since you got home later from work than you had planned. So you set your phone aside as you pull the broccoli cheddar soup from the microwave. However, you’re pleasantly surprised to see a message waiting for you when you pick your phone back up to head back to your computer to keep working.

Ah, big deadlines. What kind of work do you do, if you don’t mind me asking?x

Hm, this new tumblr friend of yours is awake even though it’s probably the middle of the night for him?

I don’t mind. I work in graphic design. Isn’t it the middle of the night for you?

It would be if I was at home. I travel a lot for work. I’m currently in New York, so it’s only 9pm.x

But it definitely feels like I should be asleep. I’ve only been in New York for a few days and my mind is still on London time.x

What kind of work do you do?

You set your phone down and boot your computer back up. You know you have shadows to deal with and layers to add back before even getting to the stuff you were meaning to get on today. This project was going to be the death of you.

Tom stares at the message. How does he respond to that? He can’t very well tell you he’s an actor. That blows all of this. He likes being able to be open with you and the moment that it comes out that he is actually Tom Holland, well you might not be open with him. Could he tell you he works in the movie field without having to admit who he is? Could he play it off that he’s still a fanboy, because he will be a marvel fanboy until the day he dies, without blowing this whole thing up? There’s just something about you and being able to connect with someone who has no idea who he is that is different.

Even on your blog today, you shared things from months ago and still reacted like it was your first time seeing them. Your whole blog just radiated positivity, even though your messages sounded like you had a lot on your plate outside of the internet world. He wants to be able to know you without the pressure of having to be, well, him. But you’re not asking him to spill everything about who he is. Just a snip-it.

Film production. Getting ready to head off to a new project actually.x

Must be fun to travel for it. Anywhere fun?

Cleveland actually. Haven’t been there before, so maybe I’ll find something fun to do outside of the project while I’m there.x

Maybe you’ll run into Tom. He’s supposed to be there shooting a project I think. Especially if you’re also in the film industry, you’d already have more of a way into things than say I would lol

I don’t know if I’ll have that much time off to look for him.x

Well if you happen to run into him in said little time off, tell him there’s probably half a million if not more tumblr users willing to marry him, should he be in need of a wife, husband, or nonbianary pal.

Would you happen to be one of those said half a million?x

He shouldn’t have sent it. You have been pretty good about responding, but after sending that message, he hasn’t heard from you in over twenty-four hours and he’s beside himself. You also haven’t posted on your blog. Which makes him think you’re avoiding him on the site all together, which is even worse. The flight to Cleveland, wouldn’t have been half bad if he wasn’t worried the whole time about what you might have been sending while his phone was on airplane mode. And of course the one time he would have paid any amount for on flight wi-fi, it was down and no one could use it.

As soon as the plane lands, he’s flipping the switch to connect his phone again. He needs to see if you’ve messaged back. He’s ignoring all the other notifications that pop up, looking for only on apps notifications. And while you haven’t posted again, you have messaged back. Which makes him suddenly feel like he can breathe again.

I’m not the one who took Tom’s name on here. I feel like you might propose to Tom before I even have a chance to meet him IRL.

I don’t think I’m Tom’s type.X

And what do you think Tom’s type is?

And it takes everything to not just describe you. It wouldn’t be hard. He had spent a lot of time deep diving through your blog. He had looked through your #me tab on your blog. It was filled with everything from selfies to posts about things you had done. And you were the kind of person that he was into. It wasn’t an only physical attraction thing. It was the things that you found important enough to post about. The little things about your day that you shared about. But instead of typing back you, Tom decides to type something different.

I think he would be into someone down to earth. Someone who is into sharing time with friends and family equally and someone who has a great sense of humor. Oh and they would HAVE to love Tessa. That would be a must.x

Wow you’ve thought a lot about this.

Do you disagree?x

Surprisingly no. But I thought you’d say something more… I don’t know physical I guess.

Why’s that?x

I don’t know. I just did.

What do you think he’d be into?x

He can’t help but ask. He wants to know what you think he’s like. There’s enough speculation out there about what he’s like, but for some reason, knowing what you think about him, it means something to him.

I would say, similar to you- family, friends and Tessa would definitely be at the top. Sense of humor would be important. I also feel like with there being so much he can’t talk about to the public, having someone he can trust with stuff would be important. I also think trust would be important so that he has a space he can just be himself too. 🤷‍♀️

Pretty spot on. All of those are important to him. He wants to ask if those things are all important to you, but asking that would come off weird, so he takes a different approach.

Honestly if I wasn’t such a div when I was making accounts I would have just made a Tessa fan blog. I’m a bigger fan of her than of Tom. x

SO TRUE. How can you not be?! She’s the purest thing in this world (sorry to Tom) and every time he shares more of her with us I melt a little.

Paddy had sent him that picture of Tessa this morning, maybe sharing it would brighten everyone’s days. Especially knowing that you were such a fan of her too. Adding the picture to his Instagram story, with a quick caption of missing this sweet girl, he quickly uploads it.

APPARENTLY TOM CAN READ OUR THOUGHTS?!

What do you mean?x

Cute Tessa content just uploaded to his Insta story. Apparently he’s away from her and missing her 😭

She’s just too pure for this world x

I needed that right now.

Something wrong?x

Work project might kill me.

It’s due by the end of the day, but photoshop keeps crashing and I might scream.

I’m sorry love x

I’m restarting my computer for the third time today and it’s not even noon yet.

You know he’s English so the love thing shouldn’t throw you. Plus he’s a boy on the internet. But for some reason, it feels like something more. So instead of saying anything about it, you just keep messaging like nothing happened. A small part of you is hoping that by not mentioning it though, it might happen again.

Tom spends the rest of the day messaging you when he can. He knows you’re working on a project that has a deadline, so he doesn’t expect you to be at his beck and call. But when he gets a notification at almost eleven o’clock at night his time from your blog, he hopes it’s one of your personal posts to make him laugh. He isn’t let down.

THERE WAS A MOTH FLYING AROUND MY ROOM AND NOW I CAN’T FIND IT IM GOING TO DIE. IF IT EATS ME YOU ALL KNOW WHO THE MURDER IS

#me #killer moth #save me #if i die i leave everything to tom

He can’t help but send you an ask about it.

Tomholland2013 asked: You know moths don’t eat people right?x

Y/T/B: You didn’t see how big this one was. This one was definitely of the people eating variety with how big it was. And now it’s hiding in my room waiting for me to close my eyes and then it will sneak up on me, kill me, and devour me whole. 🖕

Tom laughs at your reply before sending another ask. Sure he could do this in your message thread, but he’s betting the asks are helping distract you from the moth.

Tomholland2013 asked: That’s a quiet defensive response from someone who is going to be eaten. If you want me to come save you from a killer moth, maybe be a bit nicer.x

Y/T/B: If you will race over here, find this moth, and release it into the wild so that it can’t kill me in my sleep I will make you as many Tom edits as it takes in gratitude. 👏😘Just come save me please. I swear I can hear him laughing in the distance.

Tomholland2013 asked: If he’s laughing in the distance, I’ll be over to take care of him. No one gets to disrespect my favorite blog and get away with it.x

Y/T/B: Thanks darling. I really, really appreciate it. Now I must be off to hunt this moth, before he hunts me.

Tags: @serendipitous-amor @im-still-tryin-to-find-it @tomfiction4 @im-deeply-shallow

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland x you #tom holland fan fic #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fan fiction #tom holland fanfiction #imanativeofswlondondahling #hidden in plain sight

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aniamajewska · 3 years

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Illusion - final image

23 February 2021

EVALUATION

The Illusion project was very interesting to me. It was about create photography manipulation and combine two or more different objects into a whole, that gives the impression of something irrational, weird, surreal, unthinkable or uncanny in total.

The first idea that came to my mind was a cord and a usb cable. I think that in the past people had more freedom than today. Even though it is said that thanks to the Internet and modern devices we are more independent and we can do more things without leaving home. We have access to many places on the Internet, such as our bank, favourite stores or social networking sites. But are we really free? We are rather tied to our devices, mobile phones, tablets, laptops. We cannot do without them. We are always looking for a place where we could connect them via a usb cable and charge them. We don't leave home without it. Some people are actually addicted to their phones and internet connection, which is often a matter of almost life and death, without it they do not exist.

I think it is sad. I remember that days when I didn’t have mobile phone and there was no facebook or instagram yet. Now I'm caught in the tentacles of the system like most people. I don't know what it would be like without a phone now. I would be lost like a baby in the dark.

I never create anything like that before and my Photoshop skills were very basic. After this brief and many photo manipulation exercises I think I learned a lot and developed my skills to the intermediate level. I would like to improve this in following briefs and for self assignments.

I experimented with several objects and different light and background settings. It was a very creative and addictive activity. I learned how to use a small space to create interesting exposures and this is something I will definitely be doing more in the future.

Illusion brief brought me closer to the work of many surrealist artists, such as Salvador Dali, Man Ray and Dora Maar, or more contemporary artists such as Erik Johannson, Jarek Kubicki, Sarolta Ban and Christine Ellger. I was also very happy that I could introduce one of my favourite artists, Zdzisław Beksiński to other classmates, and that everyone was so interested in it.

At first I had trouble distinguishing between layers and masks. I didn't know exactly which layer or mask to work on and what tools to use with. After several exercises in Photoshop I finally got it and I started working on my Illusion. I experienced frustration several times when the program crashed and I had to start over again selection and masking on image with the cord. I wasn’t an easy object to select and Photoshop got freeze every time I used refine hair tool. It was so time consuming and troublesome. I managed to finish the selection using refine edge tool.

I think my Illusion image has strong message and it is technically very good. I wanted to keep it simple and dark. I have made the final adjustments and tweaked the finest details in joining the two items to make this transition look as good as possible. I finished this brief very pleased.

#illusion #postproduction

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kumoriyami-xiuzhen · 4 years

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Hakuoki Reimeiroku Saito Final Chapter

have i ever mentioned how i’m a masochist when it comes to this stuff? like, i will freely admit how i actually don’t like translating and doing more unnecessary work, but I when I do something for myself, I tend to want a certain degree of quality.... which is why i decided i’d do some video editing for this... a decision that I really regret now though i can say that it’s something that i know hate more than photoshop lol.

after i finished my yuugiroku 2 vid, i figured i might as well try to install Visual Novel Reader to see if that could offer me better visual and audio quality for this... but before I finished installing it, I went and checked what videos were available that I could use for assets and found a video made through vnr had about the same audio quality as to ppsspp... along with videos from someone other psp emulated version of this... which i then clipped for audio.

between visual and audio quality... i’ll pick audio any day so after deciding that i’d be using some of the less grainy audio i found along with my ppsspp footage... i set to work trying to layer the tracks.... but since the audio didn’t match the visuals’ timing, I had to manually cut pieces of my screencap video up so that it matched the audio timing, while also making sure that the visuals looked like they were still continuous (damn circle icon which wouldn’t go away and caused problems)... on top of which, i had to deal with removing a number of random black screens that would just flash on screen for less than a second when i ran reimeiroku through the ppsspp emulator.... then i also had to find the song that plays towards the ending of this cuz the audio i had cut before the end of my screencap vid which was also a pain because i couldn’t find the damn thing anywhere on youtube so i had to go find the game rip audio (thankfully i have a site for that. also in the game, that song doesn’t naturally fade out and i manually added in that effect cuz i felt like it and thought it was better than the audio just cutting off) so i could put that in and align it so that track matched the audio timing for the vita audio track.... and then i also had to do something about the interval where i had to increase and decrease volume since the end kept sounding off no matter what i did....tho i kinda think the video still sounds off in 2 places.

once i got all the damn visuals and text properly lined up, i gave up on having to deal with the the stupid circle icon in that was originally in the bottom right hand corner since i got pissed enough seeing it and cuz it was no longer continuously in motion so I decided to remove it entirely along with the auto-play icon (at this point im on about version 10 of the video).

then, to cover up the right side of the video, i figured that’d i’d just stuck up an image over top of that section.... but after several tries i gave up on that since every damn picture i imported regardless if that was a screenshot of the game or a screen capture of the video from the editing software itself, nothing would match the colour of the text box for some infuriating reason... which ultimately led to me redoing everything so i didn’t have the stupid text box then stringing together clips between those stupid bouncing icons to erase the damn thing entirely though i thankfully didn’t worry about the auto-play icon the second time around....

however, doing that in itself posed a whole new problem since what i could effectively clip was less than >0.5 seconds each time to create cropped video layers that would hide that stupid icon, and my comp reaaaaaallllly started to issues when i did more of this and when i copied and pasted too many of those millisecond clips together... it got to the point where i was waiting 15 minutes for about 4 seconds of copied hide-the-damn-icon-video-clips (or about 8 hours for 40 seconds worth)... which pretty much crippled my computer.....

this resulted in me having insane amounts of segments that looked entirely like this^, which occurred whenever there was an icon to hide... or text shake for some reason.... which caused me to create +20 openshot files for editing...(btw this is 138 tiny clips over the span of 6 seconds)

in the end, over the course of a fucking month, which i can honestly say that me finishing this for today was a complete coincidence (i barely managed to finish Warframe’s Scarlet Spear event cuz of how bad this was lol), i lost count of many versions of this video I made sometime after I reached version #32, openshot crashed on me at least 15 times (gave up counting that too), and my laptop crashed twice....

after i finally finished my video, i thankfully didn’t spend that long on subtitles but it took me far longer than i’d have liked to get the damn positioning right since potplayer is annoying when it comes to single lines and i had to guess and check the positioning almost every other time for some strange reason whenever i had a single line... which was never a problem when i had 2 or 3 lines of text... but editing was a slight hassle cuz i wanted the text used to be as accurate as possible... and i checked 3 reimeiroku tls of this chapter and the JP mtl of a bunch of sentences just to be sure.

anyway, thanks to doing all of this unnecessary torture, i am absolutely never going to ever be repeating this experience ever again even if someone pays me because video editing is a serous pain in the ass and I hate it more than photoshop (also why the hell does ppsspp have so many issues with reimeiroku when compared to yuugiroku 2)!!!

also, learned my lesson and didn’t write this post this after staying awake til an ungodly hour lol. my attention to basic grammar plummets like a rock if i stay up past 4 am.... so i decided to write out all my grievances beforehand.... and put my video for this at the very bottom cuz im terrible like that and want everyone who sees this to deal with a massive wall of text xD! suffer! suffer as i have dammit lol!

enjoy the fruits of my damn labour! i’ve passed the point of caring if there are errors in this so keep anything you notice to yourself!! goddammit i noticed something wrong that i couldn’t ignore... namely the chapter name and my credit.... fixed that now.

youtube

on a final note, it’ll probably be more than a year before I touch Reimeiroku again because of my commitment to what I am able to translate for SSL so don’t ask lol....

#hakuoki #hakuouki #Saito Hajime #Hakuoki Game Translation #Yukimura Chizuru #hakuoki reimeiroku #hakuouki reimeiroku #video post

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hayleynashhnd1 · 4 years

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Evaluation

Project Outline

For my personal project I wanted to produce a series of 10 images that represent the current covid-19 situation in relation to the feeling of being trapped in one’s home; the feelings of wanting to be outdoors again. I wanted to show this by combining the indoors and outdoors through editing techniques. The Brief is broken into 4 stages. Stage 1 (workbook exercise), stage 2 (plan), stage 3 (development) and stage 4 (evaluation).

Planning and Research

When originally thinking of my plan I was set on creating studio still life as I feel this is where my strengths are, and where I was genuinely interested in exploring. Covid-19 spread quickly and restrictions came into force just as fast. It soon became clear to me that studio was no longer an option and I had to create a plan with the knowledge that the UK could go into full lockdown.

My plan was created with this knowledge and understanding at the time, of the current covid-19 medical crisis. I Made the plan so that I could still work on my project even with the restrictions. Suddenly doing still life no longer interested me. I wanted to create something that was representative of what I, and many people across the world were feeling. In other words, I felt that this was a unique situation and It grasped my imagination more than natural daylight still life.

I had an interest in creating images with multiple exposures, so I began to research photographers that used these techniques. The main photographers that I was inspired by were Florian Imgrund, Christoffer Relander and Duane Michals. I picked these photographers for their artistic use of multiple exposures as it was the techniques that I wanted to apply to my images.

This gave me the idea to create the inside/outside contrast in my images. I thought it would be a good idea to shoot local parks and portraits of me inside to show that I was trapped and reminiscing.

When researching Duane Michals work I discovered that he often used series of images in such a way that tells a story. I knew that I wanted to tell a story with my images, I felt this made simple images interesting; each image unlocking a little bit more about the story.

Modifications/Plan

By the time I got my plan back even more restrictions where in place meaning I had to make modifications to my ideas.

I wanted to shoot in my local contrary parks however due to the new restrictions, public parks had been shut and only one hour of exercise a day was allowed. I knew that I had to modify my plan if I wanted to take natural texture shots and of trees like Christoffer Relander. I came to the decision to shoot in my back garden instead. This would be a safe environment for me to shoot. Although you’re technically allowed out for a walk everyday (I could go out a walk, bring my camera and take images of trees outside) I didn’t want to risk my health, or my households health for pictures of trees, and only wanted to go out if it was essential.

Modifications/Development

My first 3 shoots where heavily inspired by Christoffer Relander’s oil exposures. The technique Relander used, (multiple exposures) I set out to use in my aim for my project. The unhuman aspect of the images didn’t tell the story I wanted to tell. I noticed that I missed one key aim that I set out in my plan. I wanted to explore the feelings of being trapped in our own home. I knew that I had to incorporate a human element to the images, or this message will not come across. I then took more inspiration from Florain Imgrund and created portraits to add the human aspect into my images which followed my plan more effectively. The added restriction made my aim more relevant as the nation began to stay indoors.

When looking at my schedule in my original plan I strayed drastically from it. I created my timeline so that I would be taking a texture shoot with every main image shoot, back to back. However, when doing my first 3 shoots I noticed that I had more than enough texture images to work with. This meant that I was doing far less shoots than I originally thought I would. I had one other texture shoot after the first 3, and this was of the flowers that had newly bloomed in my garden. I did not set out to get pictures of flowers originally, but I felt they were to beautiful not to include.

I began taking portraits and liked the way that they where turning out without the multiple exposure. I changed my mind and set out to take images showing the feelings of being in isolation, but not specifically to the longing of wanting to be in nature (as I originally set out).

By the tenth shoot I decided to edit the nature texture shots over all my images to see how they would turn out, to honour my original idea, and because of feedback from peers. I was sure before editing that I didn’t want to add the natural textures on all my images. Once I was finished with editing I felt my images looked more coherent and interesting. I realised that my original idea was the way forward and decided to go down the path of natural multiple exposed images. I learned that even if you think something may not work, it can be worth trying it anyway because it could work out better than you thought it would.

Presentation and Finish

I partly edited my images as I shot. When reflecting on it, I’m glad I did. This gave me more time at the end of my project to consider presentation, as my images where already mostly edited. Should I have left all my editing to the very end of all my shoots, then edited my images all at once; I could have become tired of editing. Editing as I went along made the project more manageable for me.

I experimented with different sequencing for my final 10 images. I wanted the sequence that told the best story, as this was one of my aims from my plan. I am happy with the sequencing that I chose as I feel it makes the most sense.

Although our images will not be printed, I still thought deeply about what I would do if I was going to get them printed. I created some mock-up images on photoshop to show how my images may have looked in their target market. This looked effective and helped translate how my images would have presented in print. This made the images feel more real and three dimensional.

I considered the scale and paper type I would be using for the prints. I came to the conclusion that I would print all images A1. I think A1 would be most effective as it is large. The large image would catch the viewer’s attention therefor making more of a visual impact.

I also considered the three images which I would exhibit and what size/layout I would want them to be in. I opted for 2 A1s with no borders and on mount board, and one A0 with no boarder and on mount board. I am glad I consider these factors even though sadly I will not be printing my final images.

Obstacles

Not being able to use college facilities was by far the biggest obstacle in this project. I had to completely reconsider what I wanted to shoot and use what I had at home to create quality images. I am thankful that I have a good camera and some good lenses. However, the light I had available to me was mostly natural light or tungsten light. The way the light shines through my house was also an obstacle as I only had one well light area in my house which was the dining room. The other rooms windows where too small or in the shadow of the houses across the road; minimising the amount of light getting in. I worked round this and made sure to shoot at the time of day/sunny days where I was getting the brightest sunlight.

The other obstacle was technology. I was relying on my laptop for editing my images and struggled greatly with my laptop freezing and crashing. It runs photoshop extremely slow. I got over this by constantly saving my work to protect it in the event of my laptop crashing. I also made sure to only have one page open at once if I could on photoshop to make it a little faster.

Motivation was also a big obstacle. I struggled to have enthusiasm to experiment and take images as the current situation disrupted my usual routine. I was no longer working and attending classes my sleep schedule was all over the place. On top of that the constant Covid 19 updates on the news everyday makes being motivated difficult. I tried to view the graded unit work as something to do during quarantine and eventually it helped take my mind off things and I felt motivated to shoot again.

Skills Gained/Developed

Before the project I had never created works using multiple images before, so I was new to the technique. I have now learned how to digitally develop multiple images (multiple exposure) on photoshop.

I have learned a great deal about portraiture/figure photography. Before this Graded unit I was not confident with my portrait photography however the project has allowed me to understand how angles and perspective effects the portrait. I found that when taking images at a lower angle it created an unflattering perspective on my face, but if I was to use a lower angle on a figure shot it would make me look taller and more flattering.

I learned how to create mock-ups on photoshop. I had researched tutorials online and on YouTube. For my final presentation and consideration of print I wanted to show my images in their target market. To do so I knew I would have to create mock-ups on photoshop. I had never done this before and with some research I learned how to create them. I think they look highly effective and this is a skill I will use in projects to come.

I have developed my planning/researching skills in this project. I thought thoroughly about what exactly I wanted to shoot and why I wanted to shoot it in my plan. As well as researching some great photographers that relate back to my plan. In previous projects my planning was not as thorough and this caused me to struggle through the developing stages, I was not always completely set on an idea or where I wanted to go. I have developed my planning skills and it has greatly helped me throughout my entire project.

My conceptual ideas were something that I feel really flourished in this project. I have always considered myself to be creative however I found with most of my projects through the year I often struggled with concepts and ideas. This was something that I really wanted to develop. I was able to develop that in this project as I had many shot ideas. I organised my thoughts better and when an idea came to mind, I made sure to write it down in my notes so that I wouldn’t forget it.

Areas For Improvement

File management is an area I need to improve on as I did not always save all my shoots on the SD card and into a USB or on my computer. I also need to be more organised with folder management on my computer both in terms of labelling and clearing older file versions. I Feel this is something that I will always have to continually improve on as I know how important it is to have organised folders and backup copies of your work.

Time management is another area I feel I could improve as I often find myself working right up to deadlines. I am prone to procrastinate and this reduces the potential time and options for my final work. Improved time management would prevent me from getting overly stressed with deadlines.

Conclusion

In conclusion I am very happy with how my images turned out and I’m proud of myself for continuing to create work in this very unusual situation. When discovering that we would be required to create a project through these difficult times I felt stressed and overwhelmed as I knew I wouldn’t be able to do what I originally wanted to do with my project.

When I got the motivation and began creating images which I was proud of I couldn’t stop thinking and working on my project and the ideas I had for it, it soon became a great inspiration during the long period of lockdown.

I am happy with what I have learned throughout this project and I know I will be using all the new techniques in projects to come. I still have many areas that I would like to develop further to improve on and whilst I am proud of my work and my final 10 images there is always room for improvement.

Overall, I enjoyed this process and will continue to take more images throughout lockdown to pass the time.

#graded

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