#At least they can put their watermarks in the corner. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

onlymingyus · 2 years

Text

Your Games Suck

header edited by me (@chogiwapadada) do not remove the watermark and do not repost

pairing; jeon wonwoo x f reader

genre; smut (minors dni)

warnings; unprotected sex, teasing, fingering, talk to punishment and reward in a manner of speaking, pet names, hand on the throat, lots of gaming talk, i think that is all

word count; 2.7k and some change

request; yes

a/n; while this was requested i also got some help and inspiration from my resident bratty wonwoo lover and best friend @wonwussy

part two

You sit in the chair with a loud huff when you almost fall backwards finding it leaned back so far. Wonwoo had a very specific way of sitting in his gaming chair and that was slouched and leaning so far back you now felt like if you tried you might be able to play a decent round of limbo. You quickly find the knobs and adjust the chair to your liking, smiling when you feel the lumbar support hitting your back just right, the height of the chair now perfect, something not made for a giant.

Your eyes move to the mouse and keyboard sitting in front of you as you purse your lips and decide to look around on Wonwoo’s pc while you wait for him to come back from his shower. You can hear the water from the adjacent room and you were already bored. With a few shifts of the mouse and clicks you were in his gaming library and scoffing at all the battle royales and first person shooters. “Lame, overplayed, boring…”

Sighing you lean on the arm of the chair that you had also adjusted to your liking as you scroll down still muttering about the shitty library, your legs crossing as you pull them up into the seat of the chair as you become distracted. You don’t notice the sound of the water cutting off, the click of the door as Wonwoo comes from the bathroom or the soft sound of the lock when he puts it in place for his bedroom.

Wonwoo first raises a brow to the sight of his chair. Clearly he would have to work on getting it back to where he liked it. It had taken many adjustments to get it perfectly balanced in that leaned back but not quite slouched so he couldn’t reach the keyboard position. Now here you were almost sitting all the way up and the lumbar support was actually pressing against your back. Shaking his head, Wonwoo runs his towel through his wet hair as he stands behind you watching you scroll through his games and listens to your comments on how shitty they are.

“Cute…” You jump at his soft but low toned voice when he finally speaks, making you push the mouse away from you as you turn your head to see Wonwoo smirking down at you. His chest bare, gym shorts hanging low on his hip bones. “Are all of them that shitty? I didn’t know you had so many opinions about my games.”

Scoffing slightly as you watch him toss his towel off into a laundry basket before returning your eyes to his torso first before his face. Wonwoo laughs as he rubs his lips with his thumb watching your eyes before they meet him and he waves at you. “I asked you a question babe. Didn’t find a single game worth your time?” You start to turn the chair by pressing your hand on the desk but Wonwoo turns your back towards the pc as he leans over your shoulder reaching for the mouse.

“I mean…I just find battle royale games to be overdone. You just seem to have a lot of the same types of games over and over. I’m sure they are fun, to you.” Wonwoo speaks next to your ear as he leans against your back, you can feel he is still slightly damp and very warm. “They are fun, but you still are avoiding my question, so I will rephrase it and make it a command. Pick a game Y/N.”

You furrow your brows at his audacity to call it a command before you glance at him as he leans so close to your face. Wonwoo smirks at you before leaning in to press a gentle kiss to the corner of your lips. “At least with the chair sitting up like this I can reach you to kiss you better. Are you comfortable?” You can hear the teasing nature of his voice and you sigh as his lips press against yours very slightly again.

“Wonwoo…” He laughs, cutting off your words before he pulls away from you before reaching up to turn your chin towards the screen again. “Pick a game.” You sigh and reach for the mouse and scroll until you reach one of the many Call of Duty games he owns clicking it to start up the game.

Grinning against your hair, Wonwoo nods and pulls the chair out before slapping at your legs. “Get up.” You furrow your brows and look up at him as the music of the loading screen starts to play as you stand up confused. You watch as Wonwoo takes your spot only to groan in annoyance as he undoes the lumbar support and sinks the chair down and lets it lean back. It wasn’t exactly where he had it before but it would work.

Looking up at you, Wonwoo winks and pats his lap with both hands before rubbing them over his thighs. “Sit down, my little gamer.” You sigh and sit on his lap letting him pull you back against his chest as you reach for the mouse and keyboard as he simply sits under you, leaning to look around you at the screen as you start to go through the lobby options. “Pick the campaign mode, on normal.”

You furrow your brows and follow his instructions as his fingers slide over your thighs before he makes a sound when the game starts to load. “Ah before it gets started. Stand up again.” You sigh and look back at him slightly annoyed, making him laugh. “Do as you are told. You came into my space and messed with my stuff princess. If you don't want something, you know what to say.”

The last comment makes your chest rise and fall quickly as you realize this was going somewhere you hadn’t really expected. You swallow and move to your feet as Wonwoo smirks up at you leaning to press a kiss to your hip as he lifts your shirt slightly while his hands slide around to your front so he can undo your shorts. “There are some rules.” You lick your lips as his hands work to slide down your shorts with your panties letting you step out of them before he pulls you back down on his lap and you can feel that he has started to get hard.

Your eyes try to focus on the game in front of you as some soldier talks to your character while Wonwoo talks to you. One of his hands pushing your hair behind your ear as he watches the screen. The other hand sliding over your inner thigh before he grabs your leg and pulls it over his. “Put your other leg just like this one and keep them spread nice and wide.”

Whining softly you glance back at him and the hand in your hair moves your face back towards the screen. “Watch the game. You can’t be losing so quickly. That’d be embarrassing.” His fingers on your thigh move towards the center of your legs ghosting over your already wet folds making you whisper his name. “What baby? I’m still talking, so listen. You are going to play the game and every time you pass into a new area, I’ll get you closer to your orgasm. I’ll play with your clit, add a finger, stretch you out. I’ll get you ready for my dick.” You moan as he lifts his hips grinding his now fully hard cock hidden just by cotton shorts against you.

“However, every time you fail, that is just another step backwards. Now I’m a patient man so we can be here all night long. Since you have so many opinions about my games let’s see how well you stand up to that tough talk.” You lick your lips and furrow your brows just wanting to get into the game and get this started and over with. You were beyond horny now, you were leaking on to his shorts and you knew Wonwoo was feeling it.

His knuckles brush against your clit and you jerk on his lap making Wonwoo laugh quietly behind you as your character also jerks on screen as you make them follow along with their party. You try to focus on watching out for enemies, you are quick to shoot down a few making Wonwoo hum in appreciation as he leans to kiss the back of your arm as he circles your clit with his thumb. “Why don’t we ever play together?”

You sigh as he adds another level of distraction talking to you while he moves his middle finger towards your entrance circling it slowly. Wonwoo groans at how wet you are, yes he could feel it though his shorts against his leg but feeling it on his bare hand was a different thing. You lick your lips and shoot another enemy before dropping to the ground like the sergeant in the game instructs marking a new area.

Wonwoo’s finger slides into you making you moan his name as you start to answer him. “I didn’t think you’d want…want that. You always play with Cheol or Vernon. I just figured it was a boys thing for you.” Frowning slightly against your arm, Wonwoo nips at your skin and furrows his brows as you continue to play while he curls his finger into you, feeling your walls clenching him.

“You never told me you liked games. I know you liked to hang out and watch but you could have told me you liked to play them too. It makes me happy to know we can do this together.” He laughs as he hits you deep and you get shot in the head falling down the screen going red before your character is revived. Wonwoo’s finger slides out and circles your entrance again.

“Stay focused baby.” You take a breath to steady yourself as he continues to tease you while you try the section of the game again only this time you are ready for the place the enemy was hiding and you shoot him first. Wonwoo slips his finger back into you and you gasp his name when your pussy all but swallows it wanting him to fill you up. “I couldn’t do this all the time, Wonwoo.”

Wonwoo laughs and leans his head back as he watches you clear another area as he slowly works a second finger into your tight hole making your legs clench around his thighs as your character slows down to a walk while the sergeant in the game yells for you to keep up. “They want you to run honey. You can’t walk through this part.” You whine and glance back at him giving him a dirty look before he turns your head back around.

“Besides I don’t mean this every single time. Though it is fun. I mean legit playing games together. No funny business. Watch that corner.” You whine clench his fingers hard when you turn the corner and you are surprised when there are four enemies waiting but his warning was quick enough and you are able to save yourself and to heal.

“Wonwoo…fuck. I need you.” He grins his sly cat-like smile as he curls his fingers and then scissors them into you as he watches you shakily move to take down the enemies one by one. “I know you do. You are doing so well. One more section and then you can have my cock.” Wonwoo bites his lip as you grind down on his fingers and back against his cock making him have to stifle a grunt.

“Mmm my needy little whore, you can wait. Don’t make me penalize you for breaking the rules. You know how games work. You are obviously good at them. So win for me.” You gasp for a breath and nod as you lean forward slightly only to have Wonwoo force you back as he buries his fingers deep into your pussy making you moan his name.

“I’m trying Wonwoo. You are very distracting and I’m so…I’m horny.” Wonwoo laughs softly but he nods, licking his lips as he tries not to grind against your ass. “The feeling is mutual. The roof, watch the fucking roof.” You groan and look at the roof in the game when you are able to just barely dodge a headshot that would have taken you back an entire level. Wonwoo groans relieved and rewards you with a kiss to the back and his thumb pressing against your clit as you clench the mouse in your hand.

“Last alleyway.” You nod as you feel the coil winding tighter and tighter inside of you as Wonwoo’s finger rakes at the spot inside of you. He was driving you crazy but you were so close and he was going to make you go through with this. The moment you make the final kill and the captain starts to talk to you in the game, sending it into a cutscene, Wonwoo's fingers are thrusting in and out of you at such a brutal pace you couldn’t stop your orgasm even if you wanted to try.

You cry out his name when you cum hard around his fingers before Wonwoo slides his hand out and over your sensitive folds before he helps you stand and does the same. You watch him push his shorts down, his hard cock at full attention for you as your mouth waters for him. Wonwoo sinks back into his gaming chair and pulls you back on to his lap as he holds his length and lines himself up with you letting you slide down over him with a matching moan.

His hands slide to your shirt quickly discarding it and your bra so that his fingers can find purchase of your breasts. His fingertips pinching and gently twisting at your nipples as his hips pistol up to meet the downward rolls of your hips. The game behind you is still going and long forgotten as Wonwoo groans your name as he watches your face for a long moment before reaching up to pull you down to meet his lips.

Wonwoo grunts into the kiss as his thrusts begin to get messy when his hand moves to find its way between your legs and to your clit once again as he sends you back over that edge once again. The way he knows your body when you begin to clench around him and the almost exact timing of when you touch you makes your head spin as you whine against his lips. Wonwoo gasps for a breath on your lips as your thighs tremble around him as you cum around his cock when he starts to lose himself muttering as much against your lips.

Your hands move into his hair and along his neck as you start moving your hips harder over him meeting his messy thrusts telling him how much you want him and how much you want his cum. Wonwoo’s brows furrow at how much your words and actions turn him on and send him over the edge as he spills into you only slowly down when you have every last drop of him.

“Baby…” You smile at his words on your lips as his hand slides along your neck before wrapping around it loosely to pull you back from his as he leans back to look at you. The look in his eyes is still dark and lustful even as he lets go of your neck and simply runs his fingers along your jaw up to your cheek as you simply sit on him for a moment.

Wonwoo shakes his head and leans it back before blowing out a breath. “I need another shower and now you need one.” You laugh and lean in to press your forehead to his with a whine before slowly moving off his lap before moving to grab his discarded towel to start cleaning yourself up some before doing the same to him as he laughs and jerks to some slight overstimulation. “Careful.”

Grinning, Wonwoo reaches out for you when you come back towards him, taking your hand into his. You smile some as he presses a kiss to your palm before groaning as he sits up and glances to the screen. “Let’s take a shower and then actually play a game together.” You can’t help but laugh and roll your eyes as he looks at you excited. His smile is so genuine you can’t help but nod before pulling him out of the low sitting chair. “Fine, but I get to pick the game. Your library kinda sucks if I haven’t told you.”

—————————————————————————–

tag list; @bangchanbabygirlx if you want to be added to the tag list send me a message

#wonwoo smut #seventeen smut #caratwritersclub #thesvttown #svt smut #wonwoo x reader #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #wonwoo #seventeen #svt

2K notes · View notes

kitconnor · 6 months

Text

recently, a lot of people have been losing their gifs to reposters, whether that be a whole set stolen or just one gif taken for a textpost. which leads to a lot of us turning towards watermarks to not lose our work. it's not everyone's first choice, particularly because of aesthetics, but it's the best way to keep what you own.

of course, it might seem silly to do a whole "tutorial" on watermarks, but there's a lot of different ways to watermark in a subtle way that still protects your work. i've also seen a lot of people incredibly hesitant to move to watermarks because they believe it marrs their work, which may be true, but there are definitely ways around that. anyway, let's begin !

WATERMARK 1: URL/TRACKED TAG

the most common watermark for people is usually 'thisismyurl.tumblr.com', 'thisismyurl | tumblr', 'thisismyurl' - at least, this is assumed for most people as the best way to watermark.

but if you're like me and constantly want to change your url, you know that there's a good chance a watermark on a gif 3 months ago could be completely different to one now. this is why people are turning to tracking tags.

tracked tags change less frequently, if at all. it's smaller, which makes it more subtle. if you want to go the extra mile like me, you can create a blog under your tracked tag (eg. i track tuserlucie) which means you can reblog anything with your watermark to the blog, showing that it is yours.

placement is key though ! here's 3 different ways you can place it.

NOTE: opacity has not been altered on any of these. depending on how it looks with your gif, opacity looks best at 10-30%.

Font settings: Momcake, thin, 10pt, #ededed.

each of these placements have different advantages.

the first placement (top left) is the one i personally use. it's centered right on the middle but not too high up.

the second placement (top right) is probably the most popular. corners mean people can kind of tuck the watermark away where it doesn't seem obvious. the fourth (bottom right) effectively does the same.

the third placement (bottom left) is 100% the most effective. it sits in a point exactly where it's noticeable, making it less desirable for reposters. on the right opacity too, you hardly notice it.

WATERMARK 2: ICONS/SIGILS

this is an idea that i've seen used mostly by nik @cal-kestis , but is a great and creative way to do it !

an icon or sigil makes your gif totally unique to you. and it's something cute on there which is different to having to put text on there.

(i've put it in orange for the purpose of seeing it)

but you can see here, it doesn't need to be anything special. i've just used an oval shape plus the initials of my url and that's it !

but a sigil can be anything. it doesn't need to have text; it could just be an image. it could just be your icon. either way, it's a cute little alternative to using text.

here's the different options that i preference in action.

SIGIL - bottom right corner

URL - bottom middle

TRACKED TAG - face/body

RESOURCES

here's some resources to use if you want to start watermarking !

FONTS:

Momcake (this one was used throughout all the text watermarks !) Cocogoose Lemon milk Bebas Quicksand PSD

you can access a psd of editable watermarks here.

#tutorials #ps tutorials #resources #**l.myeditss #mine: resources #photoshop tutorials #idk who to tag so sorry 😭#usersmia #usercats #usernorah #userrsun

219 notes · View notes

mermaidsirennikita · 3 months

Note

re the darkest corner of the heart it stirred up some discourse about people having a preference for age gap & size difference couples in fiction. also somebody on twitter wrote up a badly written excerpt pretending it was from a review copy of the book to mock it. they literally put a fake watermark on it and everything

I need the "leftists" who actually feed into conservative dogwhistles at every given opportunity to realize that these tropes have been popular since the dawn of romance novels, and somehow we survived. I mean, at least in terms of reproductive freedom (American) people with uteruses were honestly in better shape during the heyday of problematic romance in the 80s so.

I saw the excerpt, and that shit is so nasty. Whether or not you like the book, that's a person's job and income you're messing with. People are so incredibly callous and ignorant. And to be real? I also find the fake excerpt thing simply pathetic. One of the main voices in the current moral panic.... who always seems to be involved in booktwt moral panics re: romance...... is always talking about how books like theirs!1! can't get published! when this filth can!

When first off, a lot of the books people freak out over are indie releases or indie releases until a trad pub picks them up because they have great sales. So these aren't authors trying to get agents or book deals. They cut out the middleman and go for it (something I personally think a lot of book snobs highkey look down on, but whatever, the means of publishing are not inherently reflective of quality).

Second.... that kind of shit reeks of jealousy, and I do often feel like that's what it comes down to on some level. People can't beLIEVE these SHITTY BOOKS are earning authors real money. Sometimes good money. Which is another sort of split from reality, because let's be real, unless you get a super rare book deal from a publisher who wants to funnel money into getting your book into Reese's Book Club or whatever, your highbrow litfic was almost definitely not going to make the type of cash commercial fiction can (though commercial fiction also often doesn't because most authors do not make much money).

#romance novel blogging

5 notes · View notes

daemonhxckergrrl · 1 year

Note

re: your ask from greyr4t about win10: as you said in your answer its free, just needs a key for 'activation.' ime activating win10 has been worth it. like you mentioned, it isnt strictly necessary, one can make do fine in a somewhat limited capacity with the watermark in the corner forever (unless your monitor is an OLED then have fun with 100% guaranteed screen burn in lmao. or unless always seeing it enrages you disproportionately. as in my case). but having windows activated is honestly just nice, it makes many things easier and is more sustainable in the long run... worth the extremely minor hassle as like a QoL thing imo. you also brought up that its possible to circumvent microsoft (and its brazenly insane asking prices 🤬) & buy cheap keys online from third parties. i wanted to talk about how i did shit, hopefully it helps the original asker directly or at least comes in handy to know

so i bought my (shady bootleg, yes, but perfectly functional for years now) win10 activation key for even cheaper than what Synthia listed as a price point- iirc, under 5 bucks USD. (might be higher now w inflation, but id be surprised if its much more than around 10.) if things still work how they used to, you can do this on ebay. technically ebays policies dont allow it, so the accounts selling these keys come and go frequently due to getting shut down by ebay after popping up. thus, dont necessarily be put off if the seller hasnt existed for long, as often thats just how it goes (or it did. hopefully this sort of thing is still going strong🤞); do trust happy reviews. now, there are a few TYPES of activation keys– priced slightly different, nothing big– that correspond to different editions of windows 10. so basically its home edition, pro edition, and "pro for workstations". might be worth finding a brief summary of each to determine which edition best meets your needs. (there are more editions beyond the main trio, look into those too if you want, but the tldr on em is theyre for like niche markets w/ highly specific use cases.) fwiw, i got pro & am happy with it. another thing, from personal experience: may or may not be obvious but you're gonna wanna save a screenshot of your key somewhere safe and accessible. additionally though, label the screenshot somehow so you know what it is later, and if youre a disorganized scatterbrain like i am then put that in multiple places you can reliably access so if/when youre having trouble tracking it down you know where else to look; it came in handy for me to have access to it in places both online (cloud storage like google drive or dropbox for example, or even just saving the email copy of the ebay mssg in the designated folder in your email for the ones containing info you wanna save) & off (physical note on paper, stored in the files on one or more personal devices, etc). theres a huge chance youll need it again in the future– like say if you want to upgrade certain hardware– and likely more than once. final advice: highly recommend looking into comprehensive ways of "defanging" and/or "lobotomizing" windows, as they say. i.e., a tip that gets circulated is doing the initial setup for windows w your pc in airplane mode / ethernet unplugged so you dont have to make a microsoft account so they cant create a profile on you to collect your data to sell off & target ads at you (which is obvi totally reversible later if you decide the benefits of having an account outweigh the drawbacks). shit like that, plus the loads of guides out there– many here on tumblr itself– on extensive fucking around in various settings to disable bloatware / preserve privacy / other useful stuff, that can get pretty granular. i think ive even seen Synthia herself reblog posts like that here a couple times, maybe? perhaps try checking relevant-seeming tags from the tagging system in her pinned, or do a blog search for the term 'windows' and see what all there is to find

phew, anyway, jesus christ! sorry this got to be such a long writeup!!! some of this blog's aggregate of resources have been a big help to me, so i wanted to try to pay it forward a little <3 and, Synthia, if you wouldnt mind, tagging the original asker in your response to this anon so that greyr4t is more likely to see all this would be very much appreciated by me!! ty in advance!! thanks also for your careful curation of useful info on this blog, plus the helpful posts and guides youve written here for us yourself 👍🌈

hi anon ! thanks for writing all this up !! lots of great points here - hopefully they help you out @greyr4t ! the airplane mode one is real important too if you care about privacy (and the fact you can't choose to make a local account during installation unless you are disconnected from the internet is awful and yet another dark pattern-type tactic.

i'm glad my blog's been good for you <3 (though i do need to go through and make all the important stuff a bit easier to access at some point)

iirc there's some reblogs on general privacy stuff (probably under one of the REPO tags and like "net privacy" or similar) as well as my own firefox post, and maybe more will happen in the future when i get to them

#Anonymous #DATA_REQUESTS #for greyr4t

4 notes · View notes

ghost--arts · 2 years

Text

COMMISSIONS ARE OPEN! 4 SLOTS AVAILABLE!

I am officially opening commissions! I've given myself some time to really hone my artstyle and I'm happy with where it's at! If you're interested in commissioning me, DM me so we can discuss some things! Keep in mind that I will keep record of our conversation for purposes of making receipts of purchase and in the event that I need a record of what was agreed upon.

Partial payment will usually be at least 1/4 the price of the full order. When reviewing the order I'll show you the finished piece with a large watermark and then once everything is paid you'll get the full piece with just a little watermark in the corner somewhere so you can enjoy the rest of it :)

I'll only have 4 slots open at any time and once those fill up you can still come to me and request a commission, however I'll be putting you on a little list and then get back to you once my slots are back open. I will go in order of who asked first as well.

Please note that my style can vary, I'm still a young growing artist :'D

Thank you for reading, and I look forward to making stuff for you guys!

#commissions open #commissions info #art commissions #commissions

10 notes · View notes

cloudiness · 10 months

Note

it was on the fyp side of it?? i saw the watermark in the corner and was like 🌚 and came runnin over here. idk who the person was who posted it though cause twitter refreshed by the time i went back 😭

i hope life can settle down a bit i know how stressful it can be when things get crazy 🧡 and i hope ur enjoying p2 lando at his home race 🫡

That's fine, don't worry! Maybe I'll search for it myself but the fact that the watermark was still there and visible and that it made you find my original post is good enough for me, at least I know that putting watermarks on gifs/edits works 😊

Thank you! And ofc! Absolutely loved it for Lando, as Carlos said "I wish he would have won more than p2" but still, really happy for Lando! ❤🧡

#hlsugar #ask #asks #answers #💖

1 note · View note

arialim639 · 1 year

Text

mtline9.com BET SELECTION Tips

All self assessed experienced gamblers lost and will lose their money. http://www.bbc.co.uk/search?q=mtline9.com Balance gambling with other leisure activities. Gambling shouldn’t be the only activity you do in your spare time. The mid to late 1930s saw a huge increase in the popularity of Bridge. Thought up one summer night by Austrian gamester Walther Marseille, Ph.D., rules were first devised for a fifth suit based on a "green" or invulnerable suit. In 1937, a book for rules using the fifth suit was written in Vienna, Austria, and patented for this set of rules. This fifth suit was produced by a number of companies. In 1938, De La Rue of Great Britain created a Bridge deck called "De La Rue's Five Suit Contract Bridge Playing Cards." This deck contained cards using grey-blue colored crowns called "Royals" as a fifth suit. According to the rules published by Parker Brothers, credit is given to Ammiel F. Decker for the rules in 1933. The fifth suit of "Greens" was called "Blätter", or sheets. In 1938, Waddington's of London created a fifth suit of more detailed crowns also called "Royals". In the same year there were three American decks that included a green "Eagle" as a fifth suit in similar Bridge decks of playing cards. The deck published by United States Playing Card Company used the Eagle in a medium green and the pips in the corners were inside green circles. The second deck was by Russell Playing Cards (owned by the United States Playing Card Company) used the same Eagle but in a darker shade and the pips in the corners were devoid of the circle. The third deck was by Arrco in 1938 and used an Eagle as well. At least five other bridge books were subsequently published to support playing Bridge with rules for this fifth suit, including one by Arrco in 1938. It is more than likely the book that Arrco published was for their own deck. Parker Brothers created a fifth-suit Bridge deck in 1938 called "Castle Bridge", in which the fifth suit of Castles looked like a Rook chess piece and was colored green. The rules are still available from the Hasbro website. After 1938, the popularity of this fifth suit fell off and the decks were no longer produced for Bridge. Bank craps is a variation of the original craps game and is sometimes known as Las Vegas Craps.

Unlike a standard lay bet on a point, lay odds behind a don't come point does not charge commission (vig) and gives the player true odds. From the 19th century to 1945, the structure of the cards used for domestic consumption was regulated by the French government. any cards were proposed on watermarked paper made by the state to show payment of the stamp tax. A few more subjects from the Piemontesi deck can be viewed by clicking here.Furthermore, in some editions all Genoese courts feature pink or flesh-colured skin, a detail never found in the typical French and Belgian styles (with the exception of very few editions produced for overseas markets). Lastly, in some editions the doubling line is no longer marked by a band or stripe (see picture on the right), but by a simple line. A side benefit of being rated for comps is that the casino puts you on its mailing list for special offers. Rated players frequently get free or discounted rooms and tournament invitations from casinos.

This middle eastern system of suits was later adopted by Latin countries in 1370s. In 1818 De La Rue moved to London with his family and set up shop as a paper manufacturer. He tried his hand at a number of enterprises including the production of straw hats, and the proprietorship of a newspaper. But nothing would bring him good fortune and financial success as would colour printing and playing cards. The price to switch was the product of the Ante bet and the number of cards drawn. I have seen this game myself in Curacao, Panama and Argentina, under various names, but I refer to it as Oasis Poker. Individuals who had never visited a commercial poker table began spending their weekends at local casinos or in online poker rooms, trying to wrest money from each other.

In France, the common playing card decks included numbered cards, 4 face cards, and 22 tarot cards called atouts. Spinning-reel slots in particular are profit juggernauts for most casinos, outperforming table games like blackjack, video poker machines and other forms of gambling. It was on 22nd October 1628 that Charles I granted the charter to the Company of the Mistery of Makers of Playing Cards of the City of London, and from 1st December that year all future importation of playing cards was forbidden. mtline9.com The dealer only qualifies (plays) if his hand either contains both an ace and a king or forms a pair or any higher-ranked poker hand.

Four-of-a-kind is a hand consisting of four cards of the same rank, with four aces being the highest ranking four-of-a-kind and four twos being the lowest ranking four-of-a-kind; "Full house" is a hand consisting of "three-of-a-kind" and a "pair," with three aces and two kings being the highest ranking full house and three twos and two threes being the lowest ranking full house; In this game variation, one red deck and one blue deck of six cards each (A through 6), and a red die and a blue die are used. By 2003 a particular type of poker known as Texas Hold 'Em emerged as the game of choice.one fascinating thing about blackjack is it has 52 cards in a deck, and surprisingly, there are 52 weeks in a year.

Note that the points must all be different numbers for them to count towards the fire bet. For example, a shooter who successfully hits a point of 10 twice will only garner credit for the first one on the fire bet. When a blackjack occurs for the dealer, of course, the hand is over, and the players' main bets are collected - unless a player also has blackjack, in which case it is a stand-off. This reduces the maximum payout percentage to 98.39% for players betting five coins per hand to receive the Royal Flush bonus.The 1950 Broadway musical Guys and Dolls features a major plot point revolving around a floating craps game.

The Canton of Baccarat includes 20 communes: Azerailles, Baccarat proper, Bertrichamps, Brouville, Deneuvre, Flin, Fontenoy-la-Joûte, Gélacourt, Glonville, Hablainville, Lachapelle, Merviller, Mignéville, Montigny, Pettonville, Reherrey, Thiaville-sur-Meurthe, Vacqueville, Vaxainville, and Veney. How many decks are in play? Is the option of surrender played? The Founder of FedEx Frederick Smith has to gamble to save his company.Therefore, players who do not play with the maximum number of credits at a time are playing with a smaller theoretical return.

For instance, since the liberalization of casino licensing in 2002, gaming revenues in Macau reached a record high of $45.09 billion U.S. dollars in 2013 and the annual revenues of casino gambling in Singapore reached $4.1 billion U.S. dollars in 2013. However, the house advantage or edge is greater than for chuck-a-luck, which itself has a higher house advantage than other casino games. The program code used to calculate these results can be downloaded from this site, so that everybody can verify and compare them to their preferred counting method.If one or both dice hits a player or dealer and rolls back onto the table, the roll counts as long as the person being hit did not intentionally interfere with either of the dice, though some casinos will rule "no roll" for this situation.

0 notes

merveiilles · 1 year

Text

⋆˚ ⁭ ✧. ┊┊ ANONYMOUS;; asked: You know if you temporarily use beta, you can post and change the settings so nobody can reblog your said posts with warnings?

// You know, if you check my post, you will see that I do have reblogs turned off! :D I don't want non-mutuals and non-rp blogs to touch my personal things such as drawings that I want to share with my friends. I've been on the internet/this hell site for long enough to know that non-rp/other random people on the internet give 0 fucks about people's feelings or rules that someone might have in place. Why do you think that I put a large watermark in the middle of my drawings? I also found my art on a dvd in Wal.mart years ago. The people that stole my art never asked to use it. And I tried to hunt them down, but eerily enough, it was like they never existed and only one dvd ever was. My family knew/knows multiple people in wal.mart, one somewhat in the higher-ups of the company... and they said that they have no record of said dvd...it was by chance, I was at a store 3hrs away from home, and I noticed my art sticking out like a sore thumb among other covers. it was insane, and now, I don't trust posting my stuff on the internet I know that once it's posted, it's there forever. But at least I could put some watermarks through it, because the one that was stolen, the watermark was in the corner, but my signature was visible. And they had cut my watermark out. needless to say, it really fucked me up. But thank you for your concern. I am 100% taking advantage of the non-rebloggable options on this site since it came out. <3

#:☆: random babbling ( out of character )#:☆: we just got a letter! i wonder who it's from? ( inbox )#:☆: a silly little grey face asked... ( anonymous questions )

0 notes

vewornatural · 2 years

Text

App to make a gif from a video

#App to make a gif from a video full version

#App to make a gif from a video trial

#App to make a gif from a video free

It’s really nice, you taking the time out to share your experience with us.

#App to make a gif from a video full version

After that if you like this, you can subscribe to enjoy the full version of the app then it allowed to make unlimited gif.

#App to make a gif from a video free

The free edits are to demonstrate the features of the app. Also, nothing in your case, people want one where they don’t get an obnoxious watermark of the app name in the corner cause they’re making them “for free”. Most people looking for GIF creation apps are looking for something they don’t have to pay for and they can just make things real easy with. GIPHY has an app that allows you to make as many as you want (granted, I’m not a huge fan of how the quality is sometimes and sometimes it gets screwy, which is why I came to this one). But, again, I would love to be able to make as many of them as I want without having to pay to just simply make them. The reason for 4 stars is cause the gifs can be made pretty long and the quality is overall good. But paying to be able to make more than 2 GIFs is ridiculous. Not everyone has the means to pay this kind of money every month to MAKE A GIF! Sure, paying to have features like effects and filters, I get that. Giving only the ability to make TWO gifs from video to those who do not have premium is extraordinarily limiting and may even make people not want this app. We are working hard on bringing you new features and effects. Thank you for the wonderful feedback! It really means a lot to us that you are enjoying our app as we are working very hard on it. I love being creative and the app lets me do that.👍👍👍👍 I am sure that it’s quicker than the others Gif maker.Īlready I make some Gif by editing videos & photos. It put takes a very short time to make Gif. 👌👌Most entertaining thing is that you can also make funny meme by using photos. The outcome of the Gif I have made these are high quality although while I making them it looking not good but after that you check the Gif you made, it’s supperv. You can even edit live photo to Gif, slo-mo, lop Gif also. Various ways it has that you can edit videos or photos. After installed just take videos or photos & converted to Gif. When I was start using the app then I discover that this is the best ‘Gif Maker’ I have ever used. I don’t know why people has given much negative review in this app. At first I was being confused to see the reviews. I have tried all of the Gif maker on App store. Then I was trying to full-fill my expectation by discover the app. Last of the days I was looking for a Gif maker which give me total package of making smart Gif. Please mail us at: in touch to receive all updates.Thank you! Please read our Terms and Service & Privacy Policy:įound any bug? or Have any suggestions? or Wanna new features?

#App to make a gif from a video trial

Any unused portion of a free trial period, if offered, will be forfeited when the user purchases a subscription to that publication, where applicable. Subscriptions may be managed by the user and auto-renewal may be turned off by going to the user's Account Settings after purchase. Account will be charged for renewal within 24-hours prior to the end of the current period, and identify the cost of the renewal. Subscription automatically renews unless auto-renew is turned off at least 24-hours before the end of the current period. Payment will be charged to iTunes Account at confirmation of purchase.

Trial: Free for first 03 days, then $9.99 per month.

■ GIF Maker Special: Huge Collection of Trending GIFs & Memes! ■ Share GIF to Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, Messenger & More. Use GIF Maker to Create Funny GIFs, Boomerang & Memes.

#App to make a gif from a video

0 notes

djarinsbeskar · 2 years

Text

ANTIGEN

defⁿ - a toxin or other foreign substance which induces an immune response in the body.

A/N: A standalone one shot that can be read as part of the wider Stitches universe (between EA9 and NRA1). This is a long overdue request from the gorgeous @daddydindjarin who has been so patient and encouraging because sex pollen is not my strong suit by any stretch of the word! Hopefully it's unique enough to be enjoyable for your Friday night!

Word Count: 7.7k

Pairing: Din Djarin/Fem!Reader

Rating: 18+ (NO Minors)

Warings: SMUT! (dub!con sex pollen within an established relationship, overstimulation, dirty talking, breeding kink, general filth...)

Stitches Masterlist | Main Masterlist

“Cyborg technology?”

The skepticism was evident in your voice as you examined the unassuming wraparound visor. The Bith merchant had insisted you see them when a hollow ear picked up on the list of items you had requested from his colleague. Items too specialized to be for your run-of-the-mill first aid kit. No, you requested medicinal ingredients, needles and tweezers, bacta-laced suture thread and antiseptics.

You were a medic.

Better yet, you were a medic without a meddroid if those items were anything to go by. A medic like that was hard to come by these days.

“New on the market. New Republic licensed and approved,” he explained first, noticing the sharp mistrust glinting in your eyes at the possibility of being scammed.

The merchant might not have had the cleanest track record, but he learned the hard way that you never got on the bad side of the person who could save your life, and you never messed with their equipment. He would sooner steal from a Hutt than mislead a proficient medic.

To his surprise, you ignored the slim, single lens visor – the black glass opaque and shiny as it stretched across both eyes for uninterrupted vision – to the certificate stamped with the emblem of the New Republic. Expert eyes ran over the initial specs of the device, appeased by the unique identification code listed for this individual piece.

Turning the certificate over, you sent the smiling merchant a warning look – I’m not done yet – and looked down to the small green creature watching the exchange with rapt attention.

“Torch, cutie,” your voice softened, features melting from the guarded stoicism you treated the merchant with. When a clawed hand lifted a small, handheld torch after a few failed attempts – a silver ball, crab leg, and pendant necklace later – you stroked a hand gently over his wrinkled forehead, “thank you sweetheart.”

Flicking the torch on, you held the certificate above it.

Even the Bith was impressed by your knowledge. That striking intelligence that made you look for the hidden watermark of a legit New Republic piece of equipment.

Not just a medic, then. A good medic.

One who didn’t cut corners.

Happy with the authenticity, you handed the torch back to the child distractedly, the end immediately going into his mouth to chew on while your curiosity remained piqued.

“So, what does it do?”

One battle won with legitimacy, the next battle was convincing you to buy it.

“Great for someone of your profession who doesn’t rely on droid assistance,” he pitched, “travels a lot—works under.. less than ideal circumstances.”

Combat.

You copped his insinuation immediately. He meant combat.

How could he not after what the galaxy had been put through during the war? You would be surprised if there was any medic alive today who didn’t have at least some combat experience because of it.

“X-ray, infrared vision with built-in diagnostics, intermittent scans of vitals that remain updated in real time to keep your hands free. It’s a worthy piece for any kit,” he explained, your fingers measuring the weight of the high-quality materials that made up the device.

Can’t be too heavy or clunky, can’t be too big.

Combat medics measured value differently than your average clinical medic. They wanted top of the line technology, but not at the expense of efficiency. No amount of technology would assist in triage if it weighed half a ton.

“Infrared?” you challenged, “Half the goggles on the market have infrared at a fraction of the price—”

“Common infrared only concentrates on healthy temperatures,” the Bith continued confidently, “this variation of infrared focuses on the deviancies from the common body temperature of your patient.”

“So for a human?” you posed, intrigued, “Approximate body temperature is 36.5 to 37.5 degrees.”

“When the initial scan determines you’re looking at a human patient, the infrared highlights temperature vitals above or below that healthy approximation.”

“Interesting…” you hummed.

You had heard of this kind of medical advancement in clinics and medical centers. But this was the first time you came across it in a mobile device. Maker, you could have done with one of these during the Rebellion.

The merchant was obviously taking your silence as a sign of your dissatisfaction. Blinking bulbous, watery black eyes, he held out his hands amenably.

“Here—give it a go,” he encouraged, tapping the left side of the frame to turn it on.

A ripple of red crossed the unwavering black of the lens. Hesitating, you held it up to your eyes; the material adjusting snugly to form over them and latched behind your head with a thin clasp.

“I can’t see anything,” you huffed, impatient.

“Unfortunately, the lens is all technology—there’s no glass to see out of them,” the merchant admitted, “as a first model, you’ll only be able to flick between the view options. Once turned on, the default in infrared—giving you a good initial scan of the patient from temperature to blood pressure to the location of any internal bleeding or wounds hidden under clothing.”

As he spoke, he came into view.

An outline of his form filled in pulsing reds that cooled to yellows the closer to the skins surface it got. A throb of crimson down the length of a thumb – hidden from view by gloves – drew your attention.

“You cut your hand”? you enquired, nodding to the hand in question while his vitals and stats from the preliminary scans filled one side of your vision.

Featureless, with only a mass of heat and color to distinguish him from the surrounding shop, he looked down with a chuckle, “Bit of torn metal nicked me while I was going through deliveries this morning.”

You tapped the left side of the frame, the lens switching to a skeletal view of the merchant in better detail than you had seen on any portable x-ray machine available. One more tap, and your vision turned black again, the device switched off.

Once the goggles were off and placed safely back in their case, you tapped a pursed bottom lip contemplatively. Weighing the pros and cons before a chirp from the bag drew your attention back to the child.

You smiled, “Think so?” to the nonsensical babbles you received in response that made you chuckle, “you’re right—it would help with the armor.”

Looking back at the merchant with an easy smile, his heart settled with a done deal.

“I’ll take it.”

It was a week later that you had the chance to use the visor and certainly not in the way you anticipated.

You spent the week playing with its features, noting with some disappointment that it couldn’t determine the child’s appropriate body temperature as his species was unknown even to the vast central database of the New Republic census.

That disappointment was inhibited however, when Din walked into view with a “what in Malachor are you playing with?” and the infrared diagnostics filled his mass with reds and yellows beneath the armor he wore. The pulsing heat of a heartbeat and the throb of a recent slice across his bicep had you beaming at the warrior, showing him your new toy.

Satisfied that he remained hidden with this device despite his outline being seen, he listened quietly to your excited explanations of how useful it would be and all the ways you could have used it in the Rebellion. You reconciled his easy accepting of you seeing him in infrared with the fact that you saw his shadow often enough and – more recently – his naked back from when he flicked the fresher light on before the door had fully slid closed.

He had infrared in his helmet too, you remembered. He knew the featureless quality of heat masses intimately.

That must have been the reason for how… casual he was about it. He didn’t seem to mind one bit. It still made butterflies swarm in your stomach at the level of trust that required.

Stars… this man, you smiled small – intimate – at the affection you held for him.

The normality of him now removing his armor and helmet to join you night after night on your mat. To fuck and – in your case at least – sleep. The intimacy of a name, the connection of a kiss—you cherished them.

That habit might have been why you struggled to sleep properly whenever he was out hunting. Your small sleep mat seemed excessively large without him and probably why you were left staring up at the dark ceiling tonight.

Another vague lead to the Jedi had brought the Razor Crest to a planet that bordered on Wild Space.

A humid, wet planet that made clothes cling to skin and the air suffocate your lungs with the cloying drag of moisture whenever you inhaled. But as uncomfortable as it was for humans, the plant life thrived.

Thick, waxy leaves that shone under the sun folded down under their own weight from even larger stems of plants that arched overhead in bursts of color. You felt miniscule here. The Razor Crest hidden so completely by the towering jungle trees that – by your estimation – you could easily stack seven or eight additional Crests atop one another before you reached their heights.

Din had left a few hours earlier.

The lack of information on this unknown, unnamed planet prompted the warrior to caution. An hour or two of reconnaissance and then he would return to base – the ship – to figure out how to trace a single watery story about the Jedi to a precise location on this entire planet.

He still wasn’t back, and frustration warred with an inability to sit still inside you.

If he had gone without you… after promising he would let you help—

It was past dark already. The child tucked into his pod in front of Din’s bunk hours before, when the Mandalorian finally staggered up the ramp and into the belly of the Razor Crest. Your initial relief at him being back, however, was stunted by the way his feet dragged. By the irritated shake of his head—the aggressive toss of a bull reek during mating season.

He didn’t look well.

“Din?”

His helmet snapped up from where he had dropped it into his hand. A head wound? Maybe. That same hand instinctively fell to the blaster at his hip before he realized who it was.

A groan – fatigued, frustrated – rattled through the modulator and his shoulders remained tense, pained.

“Waste of time, there’s nothing here.”

The biting growl of his tone – a feral undertone of barely restrained composure – threw you because while he looked injured—he sounded turned on. It warred with your instincts as both a medic and his lover. The stall in your confusion giving him enough time to brush past you – Maker, he was boiling – a stomp of heavy boots through the hold towards the ladder leading up to the cockpit.

Trained eyes honed in on that same hand held against the side of his head again, before disappearing up onto the second level. It was only a moment, but it was revealing. If Din was physically exhibiting signs of discomfort, it meant he was hurt, bad.

As the ship began a rocky ascent out of atmosphere, you made the pre-emptive decision to pull out your medical kit from the crate you kept it stored in and out of the way of prying claws. You huffed a breath of annoyance. You hadn’t gotten a close enough look at him to know what he had done to himself this time. It made it difficult to anticipate what you might need.

You never wanted to make the assumption that it wasn’t serious. Din had a track record of minimizing bad injuries after all. That in mind, it was safe to say you would probably need a few staples for the injuries he usually sustained; open lacerations, blaster burns, even the occasional dislocation.

Saline, bacta, gauze, clean cloth and—

Your eyes were drawn to the unassuming black case, reminding you of your most recent purchase. Excellent. You had completely forgotten about it in the immediacy. Time to find out if it lived up to expectations. Din was a grumpy SOB when he was hurt. He was less than forthcoming with showing you where the injury was and you were usually left bickering with him over it.

The diagnostics visor would be perfect in this kind of situation.

Alas, things never went according to plan—not on the Razor Crest. Not with this Mandalorian who – somehow – was still alive despite being so accident-prone.

Whatever planning you had hoped would help you along the way evaporated when the ship lurched violently. A shuddering rock that tipped the center of balance sideways; medical supplies, crates and anything not bolted to the wall falling along with it. You steadied yourself with a hand to the wall, regaining your footing with some stumbling struggle.

“Wh—”

You yelped as the ship gave an off-kilter jump, slamming to a premature stop and hurling items around the hold carelessly. Throwing a quick glance to the child’s pod that mercifully remained tethered to the bunk, you raced to the ladder with dizzying steps. Instinct might tell you to go to the child, but logic won in telling you that protecting him meant figuring out what in Malachor was going on in the cockpit.

Up, up, up you climbed—the flashing lights and hammering of your heart painting disjointed movements in your vision as you scrambled inside.

Fuck, fuckfuckfuckfuck—he was hurt worse than you imagined, he—

Labored pants filled the small space. The cockpit thick with heat and as humid as the planet you had just left. Din was completely unaware of the warning lights and alarms that lit up the dashboard like a tree on Life Day, his hands frantically clawing at the buckles of his chest plate. Hands that should be on the controls of the ship that had taken a tumbling nosedive back towards the planets’ surface.

“Din, the ship!”

Fear lodged in your throat when he didn’t respond. Only pants of “hot—too hot,” saturated the air as the beautifully crafted beskar fell forgotten to the textured sheet metal of the floor. Bandolier of ammunition already tossed carelessly over the co-pilots chair, you had never seen the warrior pull his armor off so haphazardly. Dread chilled you at the thought of a nerve agent or chemical attacking his system.

Maker, there would be no saving any of you if that was the case—ventilated air would make sure of that.

Steeling your spine, you stalked over to the pilots seat. Contagion or not, crashing would assuredly kill you if you didn’t get this ship flying back in the direction it was supposed to.

You weren’t nearly strong enough to make Din move. The brutal strength he hardly needed to tap into to keep you under him night after night would be a waste of time to go up against in trying to get him out of the seat. His mind was completely absent of the immediate danger and that frightened you more than anything.

Slipping between him and the console, you sat down on his lap and ignored his groan of pain – thigh injury too? – as you grabbed the controls to pull the Razor Crest up and away from impending doom. She was old, pre-Empire and solid. She needed a much firmed hand to guide her against the resistance of gravity and her own weight. It was a struggle just to get her level again when…

“Mm, fuck… kitten—”

What?

You hardly had time to look over your shoulder incredulously at him, when two gloveless hands wrapped around your middle, pulling you back closer against his chest. The rough fabric of his flight suit teased along the thin material of your sleep shirt while your ass settled over the prominent bulge concealed and straining at his crotch.

“D-Din, what are you—the ship!” you gasped, your grip on the controls tightening as his hands fanned up heavily over your ribcage to cup your breasts.

Nipples pebbling – the adrenaline of trying not to crash tangling with the arousal he always inspired – you gritted your teeth and leaned forward to engage the thruster to take you up higher out of atmosphere.

“Wanna… wanna fuck you so bad—can’t… can’t stop—”

The forehead of his helmet dropped between your shoulder blades. Restraint – paper thin and tearing – straining in his voice even as one of his hands abandoned your breast to drag your hips along the solid outline of his cock, his own rocking up against your ass desperately.

“S-something, fuck—in that jungle, kitten… too—too hot—”

His words even sounded pained, edged. The gasp of mute relief when he led your ass over his crotch fleeting, haggard breath making his chest rise and collapse in violent drops. The heat rolling off him feverish and clammy. But fuck, your hands were tied—all your strength used to keep the Razor Crest climbing up and remaining steady in the air as indigo bled into the black of space.

“What happened, talk to me—” you tried.

“Don’t—shit, dunno.”

He thrust up against you. A whimper of your name laced along his tongue and distorted in his vocoder, pulling your hips down to meet him.

Your body was helpless but to respond.

How could it not?

Wearing only a sleep shirt and panties while waiting for him to return, you felt every solid inch of him in addition to the rasp of rough duraweave rubbing up against the soaked seam of your underwear. Your cunt throbbing with an instinctive clench to hold him deep inside you and lamenting its emptiness.

“Let me, just—just let me get us into hyperspace,” you breathed, propelling the ship away from that Maker-forsaken planet, “just a little more.”

“Want you…always want you ner baar’ur,” he growled into your back, one hand dropping between your bodies to try unzip the pants of his flight suit. A stilted tug at the metal tongue to release himself forced a sweet smell to waft from his hands to fill your nostrils, tickling the inside of your nose and making your eyes water, “it burns, kitten—burns… need—”

C’mon… you begged the ship in your head, your brain hazy with a growing – untimely – lust, sparks of clarity zapping across the synapses over what might have infected him. Poisoned him? Not raquor’daan venom this time, that’s for sure. You snorted in misplaced humor over the circumstances of your first meeting with the cantankerous Mandalorian you now shared your bed with.

His head fell back against the leather headrest in the reflection of the viewport, panting through every exhale as you finally input the co-ordinates of some far-flung planet to enter hyperspace. You had no idea how you managed it. Combat training hadn’t accounted for this sort of distraction. What with his rutting and filthy mouth and the hand that spread your leg wider over his thick thigh so he could press his fingers along the soaked fabric of your panties with a growling moan,

“Can smell you from here, all wet and ready for me—"

You whimpered, sensitive. Awash with heat rushing down the length of your body when he pressed the pads of his fingers against your covered clit with determination. You bowed forward with a jolt of pleasure, trapping his hand. Too much. Gripping the console, you clamored for support—for something as the intensity of his touch tore through the wooden battlements of your composure with devastating precision.

“Fuck—”

The position pushed your ass harder against his cock. Your stomach flipped at his size – still dazing you after months of being his lover, his paramour. It twitched with anger when you moaned, his hand picking up traction in rubbing your clit, his strength alone guiding you faster to dry hump him.

How did you always end up in positions like this with him? It would be almost comical if the burgeoning pain of emptiness wasn’t consuming you with jagged rows of beastly teeth.

You wanted more. You always did.

Stars, this would be so embarrassing, how horny you were—had Din not been more undone than you were.

Moaning your name, panting through the pain-streaked pleasure caused by an unknown agent—he rutted up against you, not even attempting to enter you. He was too needy, too desperate for anything that he could hardly see past the immediate gratification – the relief – of humping you. When he came against your back a few moments later, the release sounded… brief.

Struggling to clear the impossible, cloying fog that filled your mind—you turned in his lap and cupped the side of his neck. The seal was feverish and wet. Hot from the skin burning beneath it.

Something was definitely attacking him from the inside.

You might have thought it an infection, scepsis even. But the steadily growing symptoms you were displaying, the prickling discomfort that only found a modicum of respite in his touch spoke of a different affliction altogether.

It was in you too.

You tried to strategize in your mind. Figure out what was on that planet.

Wild Space, unlikely to be synthetic or lab-grown—probably a natural substance.

Wet, humid—fuck he was still hard—a fungus of some kind? Fungi preferred more temperate climates, didn’t they? Couldn’t rule it out.

His hand found yours atop his neck, covering it in its size and moaned at just that touch.

Maker, still? Still so sensitive?

But of course… because his hand felt so fucking good on yours too—so hot but in its’ inferno, it was a balm to the torrid hurricane brewing inside you.

Focus, girl.

For the sake of probability, it was likely a plant. Some sort of nettle or spore, perhaps.

You lost your train of thought, the weak attempt to concentrate fluttering dandelion light in the gentlest of breezes.

You glanced down to his cock – swollen and messy with his cum – trapped against your thigh and his navel told you yes, still.

“I’m going to get my kit—”

Maker, your throat was dry. Did your voice really sound like that? So damned breathless and inviting? It echoed in your head, muffled—submerged.

He groaned his disapproval and you sighed, your resolve wasn’t strong enough for this. By some harrowing inner strength you didn’t know you possessed, you managed to extract yourself from his lap. Belied by wobbly legs, you steadied yourself on the back of the co-pilots chair.

“W-wait here, I’ll figure s-something out—”

“Kitten—” he rasped.

He tried to catch you, the heavy swipe of a paw. But you knew once he did, there would be no escaping him—not until he had fucked you within an inch of your – and his – life. That commendable strength had already been depleted, you wouldn’t be able to resist if he got his hands on you.

Din snarled as you side-stepped out of reach. His hand found nothing but thin air and the threat of a predator losing his prey filled the air.

A desperate hunger.

A need for survival.

That was what you felt filling the cockpit the moment you eluded him, and it awoke every single instinct you possessed as a living organism to flee or yield to his intoxicating dominance.

It was a bloody miracle you made it down into the hold at all.

And Maker, it was a mess.

Crates lay strewn across the floor. Anything loose had been thrown into complete disarray when the ship tumbled. That included your medical kit. Fuck. It had been open too—fucking bantha ball sucking nerfherders.

Falling to your knees where it had been laid out, you went onto your hands to begin grabbing whatever was in reach. Forced to fall further onto your elbows to reach into awkward slivers of space beneath the carbonite chamber, the black case of the diagnostics visor blessedly found its way into your hand.

Finally, something that worked out.

And it was a good thing too. You had just managed to fumble the visor on, fingers more like clubs in their dexterity in an effort to get a diagnostic reading on what had transferred from Din to you when his hands found your hips. A powerful lift and he had your ass snug against his naked body.

Naked.

Din was naked.

He hadn’t turned off the lights.

Shit.

“Think you can escape from me?” he slurred hotly, breath disturbing your hair and painting your neck with a wet claim. Your nerves tingled with desire despite your better intentions. The bright red heat signal of your arms told you he wasn’t the only one burning up.

“D-Din, the lights—” was all you managed to exhale.

Your eyes slammed shut before they could read the scan and despite the fact that you could only see in infrared. It was a long established habit difficult to break, and the lack of sight left you at his mercy on all fours.

Cunt slick and exposed to him in such a prone position, the furnace of his body – hard and big – made you positively clench with a push of arousal soaking your passage and making your panties sticky. Damning evidence in the case against your mental capacity.

“Caught you,” he growled, biting into your shoulder and spreading one of your thighs wider to pull the seam of your underwear to the side. The chill that immediately licked through your folds was combatted by the head of his cock nestled between your cheeks and you keened.

You should have protested.

Should have demanded he let you examine him to figure out what was wrong with both of you now. But all sensibilities and logic fled your mind at the siege of chaotic desire. A painful need that only the man behind you could satiate. One you knew on some primal level, you would suffer without.

That weak protest of his name was cut off on a moan, sheer bliss escaping you when he lined himself up and slammed into you. He gave you no time to adjust, no time to stretch—forcing your walls around the girthy fat length of him until you could feel him throb in your throat. Words lodged in your throat, your eyes crossed and even the stars that dotted your vision blurred when he filled you.

He groaned, sweaty forehead falling to your shoulder and the relief that flooded out of him was nothing short of infectious. Your lips parted, frozen on the shape of his name—the flavor of his pleasure. Biting scores of possessiveness into your shoulder, his cock withdrew. Dragging along soaked walls, it grazed every hypersensitive nerve that had pleasure bolting to you clit and your arms trembling.

Your head bowed between your shoulders and you saw down the length of your body – flushed red and aroused – to the pulsing heat where you were joined. White hot. How fucking affected you were by each other. How it only served to turn you on more.

He was brutal as he fucked you, mounted like a bitch and keening for his cock.

That same sweet smell entered your nostrils when he gripped your jaw to drag your head back—his mouth slanting over yours with a hungry passion. Tongue molten, it swiped across yours, fucking your mouth the way his cock was hammering into your pussy.

It was filthy.

There was no other way to describe it. Half-dressed on the floor, the shredded exhales of your Mandalorian met with every willowy moan he punched out of you with his thrusts. The sweat and arousal leaking and mixing and making a mess of you both.

The floor bit into your knees, but you could hardly spare a thought for the unyielding cut of metal curling up into your soft skin. He had your upper body forced down onto that same inclement floor a moment later, wrists pinned behind your back that he used as leverage to ram into your harder.

Slap slap slap interspersed with feral growls and pitiful whines for more filled the hold. The squelch of your wetness soaking his cock, your thighs, the damn floor itself didn’t abate—it only grew as your desire did.

Heat pulsing, a torturous stab of unbearable suffocation straddled you the moment his cock slipped out of you. The whimpers of please please Din—fuck me, quick—only registered as your voice seconds later. A blanket of survival—of fuck fuck mate mate mate covering anything and everything else.

Your lips split around a throaty moan, tongue swiping across desert dry lip and you tasted it—that acrid sweetness you had smelled on his hands. Something… something was in that substance. Making you both horny, making you both slaves to that primal urge to mate and fuck and breed.

Your eyes flew open for the diagnostic scan to confirm what you suddenly realized as you begged him to fill you.

Contact copulation.

An evolutionary trait of certain plants to encourage the wildlife around them to search for a mate. The pollen spores clung to fur and skin alike as the secondary symptoms of the pollen consumed the affected organism. Made it blind to anything else—and forced it to movein search of a partner. In doing so, spreading the spores far and wide to take root.

All semblance of abstract thinking abandoned you. Replaced with only the base desires you had as a living organism. Survive and reproduce.

You fed into it as much as Din did. Pushing your ass back into his thrusts, walls tightening around him greedily as soon as heavy balls slapped against your clit.

Keep him in. Keep him deep.

His snarls danced with your moans, your pleas—and when he filled you with his fat load, buried to the hilt in your quivering pussy—you felt the heat subside momentarily, following him over the edge. His semen the milk to the fever of this infection, cooling it—giving you an instance of repose before that too subsided and you were plunged into the inferno once more.

“More—” he rasped, sandpaper roughening his throat to a jagged ring of fangs. He moved his hips again, elbow braced by your head as his size swallowed you whole.

Rutting into you with hard, fast strokes—he pushed all of that delicious cum out of you before it even had a chance to cool. Every wet slip of his cock into your full hole shoving dribbles of it down the backs of quaking thighs.

“More, please—” you agreed, words airy and impossible.

Lifting your head as much as his restrictive hold would allow, you met his lips sloppily. The red hot infrared showing he was still as affected as before, throbbing with need and you were no better.

Your temperature climbed alongside your arousal. Horny as though edged for weeks and an instinctual fear that you would die if he didn’t fuck you again right now climbed up your windpipe. Fear you might die, or fear he might find another pussy to bury his cock into—you couldn’t be sure, but you were determined; yours would be the only one he needed, the best.

You arched, tightening around him to a choked moan of the warrior above you. Mutters of “fuck kitten… so fucking tight—” dripping honey thick into your ear. A swollen heat made your skin feel too tight—too restrictive, it was uncomfortable. But you couldn’t deny the feminine pride you basked in as this massive warrior took you.

Your agreement – so easily given – was met with his cock moving in and out in and out – fuck yes, Din – while he released your wrists to paw at your shirt. Ripped it down the back to pool around your elbows and buried his nose in the flushed skin behind your neck.

“Can smell you, baby—” he growled, “can smell how fucking fertile you are for me.”

His words spread wet and scorching over your neck, cooling against the damp strands of hair at your neckline. Lips moving down, he planted open mouth kisses down your spine, inhaling your scent and leaving teeth marks and bruises of rabid claim along your back.

It made you gush. A primal claim like this; to be taken by the strongest, the smartest, the most dominant male you had ever encountered. Logic and reason had no place at this table of instinct, and your base desires thrived on the virility of your partner.

“Take me, want y-you to…”

“Want me to what, kitten?” he growled, cock swelling and hips snapping into you brutally that you sobbed his name, “Want me to fuck you so full, it won’t be just my cum making your belly big--?”

“Yes—yes, Din—"

You mewled—in agreement or just at the fact that he could get you off with his voice alone. The floor slippery from your combined sweat and heat and release that fogged glass and condensed on the metal surfaces of the hold. His frame kept you prisoner though, safe from being pushed up too far away from him, his powerful forearm a paddock of muscle in front of you.

You dropped a hand to your clit and began rubbing at it frantically, it was all too much and not enough. His length splitting you with ever flush roll of his hips, the head bumping against nerves you had never known to be erogenous before. Every touch the tug of puppet strings in making you arch, making your fingers curl into the metal, making your mind empty with the white light of eternity.

Like the waves on Pamarthe, your orgasm ebbed the flaming tides for a blissful moment of relief, lasting just that bit longer than the first. Squeezing him in a vice, a shudder wracked through the large warrior as he emptied himself inside you once more.

As copious as the first time, you were soon swollen—distended with cum leaking out of you around his base and trickling down semen-heavy balls onto the grate flooring cutting your knees.

“Maker,” you panted, swallowing large gulps of air to try regain some semblance of control.

Your pussy twitched with fatigue when he pulled out, contracting with the loss of his size. Kneeling up, his mouth refused to part from your skin even as he struggled to regain his breathing. It had suddenly turned manual, you could commiserate.

Was it in for two, hold for one, out for three? In through your nose out through your mouth, you remembered that bit. But it all seemed rather unnecessary when you could be kissing him instead, his tongue invading your mouth when you turned to face him. Kneeling before him, his size had you craning your neck up to meet him, mewling into his mouth and squeezing your thighs together to stay full of him longer.

Your hands ran over muscular shoulders, down pillowy pectorals where his heart hammered under your fingers and pulsed rapidly on the infrared. Down the broad strength of a stomach softened with age and dusted with a happy trail to the heft of his cock jutting with insatiable need, his hips canting slowly into your hand while you stroked him.

Chafed, he groaned at your touch. Overly sensitive but still wanting more more more.

He whispered as much against your lips, the pollen evidently having a worse effect on him. In some secluded part of your brain – the part where reason was held captive – you figured it had something to do with exposure levels. Maker, if you were this horny from secondary exposure, Din must have been in agony having had primary exposure.

“Want you, want you—” he mumbled, repeating the confession like a mantra as you pushed on his chest, guiding him to sit on the askew mat—his temperature stabilized but still too high on the infrared.

The kiss you gave him was long and deep, stroking his cock until your wrist ached from use. You didn’t stop. Not even when your hand became messy with cum once more. You used it as lubrication to slick your movements. No one could ever say you weren’t resourceful. Your own mind was gradually succumbing to the haze once more, but you still managed to lower your head nonetheless to take him into your mouth.

His head fell back against the closest crate, a hiss of sensitivity from overstimulation while his girth filled your mouth almost instantly. Breathing through your nose, your tongue lathed attention to his tip while you stroked his base, circling the head and cleaning him of his prior release.

He tasted divine. A salty tang of addiction that made you want another taste…and another…and another. Until he was completely clean and only your drool and saliva soaked him as you took him deeper and deeper down your throat.

“Fuck, kitten—that’s it, deeper—” he groaned, sinfully deep—thick with a growl at your actions, “good girl.”

You purred at his praise, damn the man for knowing your weaknesses. The noise was muffled on a gag when he leaned up. Crunching his stomach and pushing his cock deeper down your throat so he could reach a hand over your back to smear the mess at your pussy that sat exposed to the air as you sucked him off.

Crystal tears blurred your vision through the infrared, the weight of his cock on the back of your tongue making your throat convulse. You gagged properly when he shoved two digits deep into your sore cunt, whimpering in sensitivity. The squelch of arousal and cum pushing out around his digits would normally embarrass you, the sheer amount that filled you—but you were too far gone to care.

Pushing your ass back into his hand – more – he fingered you. Pistoning his fingers into you fast until you were dangling over the precipice once more without your clit even being grazed. Maker, you were so raw and wet and swollen that his fingers felt massive inside you.

A fondle to his heavy balls – still so full, must be the pollen – pulled up tight to his body with his imminent climax and he came down your throat in hot, thick spurts.

You choked, struggling to remember to swallow it all down as he channeled his ecstasy into fingering you harder, blinding you with pleasure. It wasn’t enough though, you were so edged—so so edged, it was too painful without him inside you.

You told him as much, warbled words babbled around his cock as you licked him clean. His response was simple and immediate. He coaxed you to crawl up onto his lap, muscles weak but you managed the seemingly endless stretch to him. He helped you. Big hands forming under your thighs to straddle him, eager for your touch, your mouth, your pussy.

Cut up knees not registering in your urgency, you lined him up, rubbing the leaking tip between your folds and sitting down onto his cock with a cry of blissful relief.

You came instantly. A chokehold of pleasure that required no movement on either of your part as shivers wracked your body. You chased that initial crescendo, grinding yourself on top of him. Frantic, sloppy—wild.

A chorus of yes yes yes—rang out from you as he dug his fingers into your ass, guiding you faster. Your clit brushed constantly against the small smattering of a happy trail, prolonging your climax. Pants mingling, they ceased when his lips captured yours—your fingers buried in his lush hair, soaked from exertion. Biting, licking—it was more teeth and tongue than a kiss, both too far gone to follow through the brains design with the body’s action.

“Din—” you babbled, digging your nails into the back of his neck while your sweaty foreheads met.

“I know, kitten—”

You weren’t sure what it was he knew, but you trusted he did—because you hadn’t a clue. Distracted by him still fucking up into you with shallow thrusts from beneath, the ache of him filling you was nothing to the agony of being empty. Each orgasm was giving you that little bit longer of a reprieve and you could only hope that was a good sign.

“I-It’s on your hands,” you struggled to explain, mind somewhat clearer even as your body kept bouncing on his cock.

He didn’t seem to understand.

“You are all over me,” he growled, smacking your ass hard. Spreading your cheeks wide, he kneaded them—encouraging you up and down, up and down.

You lost yourself for a moment, hungrily kissing him until he cupped your jaw once more. The sweetness had faded, but you could still smell it vaguely.

“Listen to me, Din—listen,” your head fell back with a moan—walls fluttering with the kindling of your arousal once more, “we need to wash it off.”

“I need to fuck you,” the Mandalorian snarled, bucking up into you punishingly, forehead feverishly hot and the only thing you clung to in order to keep your sanity, “need to see you nice and round, need to breed you.”

Yes please. You wished you could slap your brain sometimes.

Your pussy clenched – dammit, slapping that turned you on – and you cursed your responsible nature. A lesser woman would say to Malachor with it and continue to fuck this god of a man for as long as she could. But knowledge screamed the dangers, everything that you were risking the longer you let this continue.

So, you stood—his cock falling heavily from inside you, strings of slick and release dripping from you as you did so. And Din roared. Denied his female, he rampaged to get to you again. At least, that what you hoped he would do.

“This way…” you tempted, walking backwards through the junk and crates and little things that made up your life on the Razor Crest towards the fresher door.

His body, even in the featureless heat signal, was an intimidating sight to behold as he stood. Shoulders tense and lifting with fury. All he was short on doing was exhaling steam—he was that close to a rutting reek. Or a dragon.

“Kitten,” he warned and it was the only one he was going to give you.

You continued to back up until you could press open the door to the fresher. The tug of pain low in your navel from the pollen reigniting with a vengeance the longer you went without him. The hydraulic door slid open with a hiss much too loud for the silent threat brewing in the hold.

He stalked you. Prowled closer and closer—into the fresher where you waited for the door to close and plunge you into darkness before removing the visor and turning on the water. Ice cold, freezing—it didn’t even bother you as his bulk crowded you against the far wall when he followed you under the spray.

“Nowhere to run, kitten—” he whispered against your cheek, his hands running possessively down your body.

You let your eyes roll closed, succumbing to the pleasure with the assurance that he would be okay. You turned your nose into his cheek, stubble grazing your skin with miniscule pricks of pleasure. You failed to meet his lips, your own parting against his when he cupped your mound,

“This is mine, understand?” he growled with a undertone of command that made you simultaneously want to protest and concur.

When you failed to say anything, mind short-circuiting at his dominance and the heft of his cock pressed into your belly, he gripped your jaw. Pressing his fingers into your cheeks, he practically forced your mouth open. As though he could physically form the words on your lips himself.

“Yours,” you admitted, much more easily than you would ever be proud of in your younger years. But Maker, you wanted to be his. His and no one else’s.

He rewarded you with a hard kiss, the heat under his skin cooling with the pollen washing away and the icy water on his back and hair. It didn’t stop him hiking your leg up around his hip though, nor his hand that rubbed his cock through your folds slowly, teasing. It didn’t stop him from pushing all the way inside you so that you could feel every inch of him throbbing as he forced your walls apart.

The pollen had completely washed away as he fucked you, slower but with no less desperation.

Clarity returned to his thrusts and he seemed to thank you with his body—pouring those words he struggled to articulate into confident strokes of his cock inside you. In the honey laced drags of his tongue in your mouth. In the whispered secrets shared in darkness and passion filled confessions hidden in desire.

Your nails tore into his shoulders and back when you came this time, wrapped around your Mandalorian and completely reliant on him to keep you standing. All your strength sapped, you sagged against him. Spasms of pleasure and twitches of overstimulation wreaked havoc on your body while he soothed you through your release.

Your muscles ached from being held up so high over his hip, but you remained flush tight to him.

“Come for me, Din—” you whispered into his jaw, kissing over the small patch where hair refused to grow, “it’s all gone now.”

Whether you meant all the pollen was gone or indeed, all the cum that had been inside you remained to be seen. He didn’t ask, you didn’t tell. But only one of those statements was proven false as he spilled inside you again. Making your lower body feel inexplicably heavier with the fullness and you wondered briefly, what being pregnant would feel like.

Chasing away the thought by sucking a mark into his straining neck, you couldn’t prevent the belying clenches of your pussy milking him. Din Djarin’s baby… fuck. That was a dangerous road you wouldn’t—couldn’t go down.

He came down from high slowly, shallowly thrusting his – finally – softening length into you. Still not wishing to be parted from you, even after the… however many hours it had been.

“K-kitten—”

You hummed in question when his head dropped to your shoulder, the shower water finally heating a little and battering over his scar speckled back.

“I—” he strained, eyelashes fluttering against your skin—trying to blink his thoughts into focus, “what the fuck was that—”

You laughed, a rough-hewn husky noise after what your voice had been put through.

“Did you touch some flowers?” you asked, dragging your fingers through his soaked hair, the ends curling around your digits in a way you were absolutely addicted to.

He was silent. Grumbled something into your skin but the words were too low for you to make out. You let him finish his rumbling sulk into your neck, his grumbles turning to purrs as he settled, inhaling your scent with the deepest inhales.

“I didn’t hear a word of that,” you snorted on a laugh, running your nose along his temple—a rarity when he stood so much taller than you, and only accessible when he bent down for you.

“Said I might have…tripped over something and uh—”

You blinked in the darkness, his body humming with embarrassment under your hands

“You fell into the flowers?”

“I’m not saying it again,” he huffed, put out.

You tried not to laugh, you really did. But it still shadowed your words as you cupped his cheeks to lead his mouth back to yours for a smiling kiss.

“You’re a walking disaster, did you know that?”

#djarinsbeskar writes #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin smut #stitches #the mandalorian smut #the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin fanfic #pedro pascal #mando smut #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #mando x reader #mando x you #the mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #mandalorian

2K notes · View notes

henfox · 2 years

Text

KYLOSOLO’S/KRYLORENS’ STEP BY STEP BASIC GIFFING TUTORIAL, inc. ALL RESOURCES:

this is part one out of two not don’t worry, part two is just me filming the process, i just had to put it onto a separate tumblr post since i can’t place it in this one. PART TWO HERE: [x]

i’ve been giffing for about over six years and it’s only very recently that i feel i’ve got a grasp on a pretty good method, for me at least. if you’re reading this you probably have prior knowledge already but this tutorial is also going to go over the basics as if you know nothing. → this is just how i do everything and my ordering process, there are way better gif-makers out there but i know how finicky the process can be so i wanted to give out all my tricks! it might seem like a lot but it becomes second nature easily. (let me know of any broken links and or questions.) just to note i use windows not mac.

SORRY FOR SPELLING AND GRAMMAR ISSUES, i really pushed myself and i struggle with articulation.

things you will need/learn: (it’s all free!) →the ones in bold are essential. —adobe photoshop; i use cc2020 which you can get here: [x] —mpv; (a frame captures, i’ve used pretty much every type over the years, even ps’ inbuilt one but this is my favourite & this tutorial on how to use/dl it is the best) [x] —***at least 1080p footage; if you don’t have any you can still use this frames folder to follow along with me :) [x]*** —4k video downloader [x] —a megasync account [x]

actions: —@kylos tumblr sharpening; (these are just my favourites you can use any you find/make really but this makes your gifs look even more hq) [x] —@kylos twitter sharpening: [x] —@rory-amy tumblr/twitter save; (i just use the save action out of this pack and it’s a LIFESAVER) [x] —if you’re not sure how to put these into your ps i’ll show you how later on in this tutorial.

how to learn colouring + how to add subtitles correctly + how to make hq twitter gifs: —all later on in this tutorial with links to my own resources and might have my twitter watermark by mistake.

*what this tutorial isn’t including: —how to t*rrent. —how to upscale footage. —how to make multiple gifs/gifset are crop them the same way/move frames over to a new document; (i’m just focusing on how to make one simple gif) —how to use gradient/html text for captions but here’s a great tutorial on it. [x]

i just want to give a big shout out to @kylos because all her tips are just amazing and top-tier!!!

‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾ ☽༓・*˚⁺‧͙ ok now onto the good stuff! ‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾ ☽༓・*˚⁺‧͙

★ how to load in and sort out your layers: [1/2] ★ —once you’ve dl the frames or gotten your own you’ll need to load them into ps like this;

when load layers pops up, you can select individual files (for a more complicated set this is good) but i prefer to just use the folder option. now select your captures folder from wherever you saved it. depending on how many frames/how hq they are will effect how long the loading time is. it can really vary. —ONE THING YOU SHOULD NEVER DO: is take EVERY OTHER FRAME when making your gifs this destroys the flow of them and is an older method to gifs that isn’t needed.

—if your ps is brand new you’re going to have to add some stuff, which i’ll show you how to do. — first go to window and select TIMELINE and ACTIONS. then move your ADJUSTMENTS bar up and close the tab it came from since you won’t need those. (if you ever do, just click workspace and then RESET ESSENTIALS) and next you’re going to click on your timeline bar, then CREATE FRAME ANIMATION. — *your screen should now look like this:*

—then on your timeline bar at the right top corner there’s three little lines, click that. then select MAKE FRAMES FROM LAYERS and after SELECT ALL FRAMES and next REVERSE ALL FRAMES. (depending on the ps you use your frames might be like mine and need to be reversed, just click the play icon on your timeline to make sure). —i always play through the gif before doing anything and i noticed the gif frames are a bit long for my taste so i’m going to press my shift key and then select up to frame ten by right clicking (they should now be highlighted) and click the trashcan icon on the TIMELINE bar to delete them. you can trim your gifs at the end doing this if the mb is too high and your gif doesn’t load when uploading. currently tumblr is up to 10mb and twitter is around past 15mb. —after deleting your frames you then need to SELECT ALL FRAMES again and then CONVERT TO TIMELINE.

★ how to crop your gifs: ★ ***here is when i like to do it: (4th icon on the bar on your left)*** —however, you can do this before or after, just as long as it isn’t after making it a SMART OBJECT or sharpening. —there should now be a new a bar on top of your gif and next to RATIO is where you should put your dimensions in (as in width:height)

—there are tumblr dimensions but i find you can be more lax with them, i like to change it up a lot but for now i make square gifs around 450px x 450px and rectangular ones around 500px x 340px but it’s up to you. if you’re really struggling and see a set with a size you want to use yourself you can study the size of it by inspecting its elements on desktop, and rounding up. but i would recommending doing it yourself. making your own style is the fun of it!!! —for twitter the best size is 600px x 600px. this is a square, sometimes frames can’t just fit neatly into this shape/sizing so find what’s best or copy my tumblr dimensions if you’re struggling.

***note: when cropping your gif you can get weird transparent lines around it. → to get rid of those when cropping your gif, you have to: crop inwards a bit, (or as much as you want) and move the cropping square/shape a bit into the middle.

now, make sure you go to IMAGE on top bar select and put in your gif dimensions.***

‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾ ☽༓・*˚⁺‧͙

★ back to your layers: [2/2] ★ —now go to your LAYERS bar and select every frame with an eye icon next to it, right click and select on top of them and select CONVERT TO SMART OBJECT. this should leave all the frames you have deleted earlier and those have no eye icon, you can select those akin to how you did it on your TIMELINE bar, just use the trashcan icon on your LAYERS bar or just select DELETE LAYERS when right clicking.

★ how to insert and use actions: ★ —to do this you need to locate your actions folder. so, go to your adobe photoshop file, right click on the ps icon and then click ‘FILE LOCATION’ then search in it for ACTIONS. next if your action(s) are downloaded go open another file explorer tab:

then drag and drop it like this: —if it says administer permission is needed click yes.

—once you’ve done this head back into ps to use the ACTIONS, first to sharpen, then to save: —you’re going to click the arrow icon on the sidebar on the left side to your LAYERS and then the three lines as shown here:

—you’ll see where it says SELECT HERE, do that and then click the arrow icon below it and just click continue if you get the make layers error, this won’t affect anything. (sometimes gifs can glitch at this stage but just undo or you may need to restart your gif.) —ok now your gif is sharpened! if you think it’s too much you can add gaussian blur from the FILTERS bar at the top but i just prefer to lower the opacity by double clicking the bars next to the word SMART SHARPENED which has now appeared x2. —for me gif colouring at this stage is hard because playing the gif in this mode blurs it and i like having the individual layers so this is where the action pack (save) comes in handy! *it also saves you from having to open your gif at the end and adjusting to 0.07 sec bug to 0.05 gif speed the action auto does it to 0.05 for you (which i’ll explain next.) just select the action the exact way you did sharpening. just scroll down to where it says save. —now your ps should look like this (this is a good point to save, but i’m the worst and do it after i colour usually.)

adjust the gif speed by double clicking the numbers if you want to change it from 0.05 speed but even if your gif is short making it anything more slower or even faster can mess up your flow. the best range imo is around 0.04-0.06, although i usually never stray from 0.05. i also like to put do not dispose on all the frames (which you again can do by shift clicking or the three lines on your timeline to get select them all and then any frame right clicking to do that should work for both things.)

★ how to colour (basic not colourful): ★ —now this is the best part for me, however it’s the most tricky and vague in a way. one psd (your saved photoshop document that contains your colouring and usually the gif too) might not work for the next gif even if it’s the same film or ‘footage’ and getting your own style can take a long, long time. you can use other peoples psds but i find making your own is the most rewarding. but! i have studied those psds given out and incorporated them into my own style over time. —*so, what i have decided to do is just that. i have made a base psd for this gif for you to study. but i really recommend looking at other tutorials to teach you how to do that. i’m just gonna get you started, which i hope no one minds. i did try and make it less my very blue-toned grunge style and more ‘normal’. [x] —note 1: select all of the adjustment layers on the side and then to put them into a multi-set just select DUPLICATE LAYERS and put them onto your document/next gif. be smarter than me and don’t name randomly or keyboard smash your psds, sorting out your psds makes life so much easier trust me and you can reuse them!!! (i keep ALL of mine in folders in my documents and then they are sub-dived). —note 2: i like to go more extreme and lessen the vibrancy/saturation and then constantly edit and mess with the opacity rather than being subtle, there’s so many ways to do this. so again, it’s just messing around. however, even if you all your frames selected sometimes this can bug out and mess up one of the frames. so, keep watch on that and either undo or just duplicate the new version of your adjustment layer and delete the bugged one.

*if you do want me to make a how to on my colouring that goes more in-depth/colourful please let me know.

★ how to add perfectly in the middle subtitles: ★ —here i’m going to give you my subtitles with its settings preset, but edit it to your own liking! [x] —if you’re loading it in, different sizes/factors effect your subtitle placement and your text can looks random like this:

so what you’re going to do this: drag it into the place you want and then make sure your text bar looks like this:

—since this is also an adjustment layer you can get the same bug of it being fixed on one frame only and then the rest are how it used to be. so, just duplicate it into a new file like this:

—and after duplicating it back onto your main gif and get rid of the old one.it should be good. (again, this is just my own learned solution) —this is also applicable to twitter watermarking which i’ll mention later on.

now that you’ve done all of that and hopefully saved your gif it’s time to export it!

the save settings i use:

★ how to make hq twitter gifs: ★ —read this tutorial, already linked above but: [x] —if you’ve read everything above then making a hq twitter gif won’t be a hard adjustment, you just need to change and add a few things. —first: make sure it’s 600px x 600px (you can change this but to get the best result) —second: use the twitter sharpening action!!! you can adjust this, but twitter can really repress the quality if you use just the tumblr one, or your preferred method. although some footage needs you to lower the sharpening or else it can look like a lot, but don’t be afraid it’s an easy fix! —if you’re adding subtitles make them a bigger than you would for tumblr just make sure it doesn’t go through the bottom left side of your gif. —before posting, make sure you have watermarked it! which you can only do on the top left/right corner and bottom right or else it’ll get covered up! you can also place in somewhere else if you’d like it’s up to you. —the video of me making a gif will be one for twitter so if you’re unsure about anything from this or the entire tutorial hopefully it clears that up. :)

it should look something like this, just in your style!:

✨✨✨ now that should be everything!!! if you have made it this far, thank you for bareing with me and let me know if there’s anything confusing!!! this took a very long time of planning and making so if it helped, interact with this post? <3 ✨✨✨

#big shout out to everyones resources mentioned!!!#gif tutorial #mine #mine: tutorial #mine: gifs in txt #ft. charlie barber

122 notes · View notes

veliseraptor · 3 years

Text

got tagged for two fic writer memes yesterday! the one from @ameliarating first:

How many works do you have on AO3?

509.

What’s your total AO3 word count?

3,432,24. dang! that’s a lot of words

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

I have written for...counting the MCU as one fandom, on AO3 I have written for 32 fandoms, including at least one work in:

MCU, The Sillmarillion, Caliban Leandros, both DC and Marvel Comics, the book Barebacked by Kit Whitfield, Doctrine of Labyrinths, Doctor Who, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Star Wars, Black Jewels, Dragon Age, Lucifer, Dexter, Temeraire, Gentleman Bastard Sequence, Supernatural, A Song of Ice and Fire, Greek Mythology, Lymond Chronicles, Merlin BBC, Code Geass, Good Omens, Death Note, and White Collar.

this is not a comprehensive list of every fandom I’ve ever written for, because it is not including ones that live only on FFN or Livejournal.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Life In Reverse tops the list (11066), aka my 200k Loki-centric post-Thor AU fic that I wrote between 2012 and 2018 and with which I have a decidedly complex relationship at this point. I love it but also I no longer think it’s my best work but also I credit it with teaching me a fuck of a lot about writing and writing longer projects in general.

With Absolute Splendor is rapidly catching up, to my astonishment (6559), despite having been posted for less than half as long. Aka the wedding planning fic that’s really just me mucking about in my Jiang Cheng and my Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian feelings, at length.

some good mistakes (4618) was my first foray into the Untamed version of “characters who hate each other going on resentful roadtrips together, feat. Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng.” I have gone on to write others and will continue to write more.

Unraveling (3069) is a little bit of a surprise but also not - it was originally just sort of WWP stuff for my ‘what if people remembered that blunt force trauma is a really bad thing actually’ problem that pops up sometimes, re: Loki at the end of The Avengers, and then it kind of turned into a whole thing. I personally think it’s the weakest of the installments of the series it belongs to, but it is the first one and also the one that gets least into the broader family dysfunction and depression stuff that probably is less everyone’s thing (but is what came out this fic that mattered more to me, personally).

I am a little surprised to see Steve Rogers’ Halfway House for Notorious Supervillains (3068) here too! I was expecting one of the more...idk, mainstream concepts from the MCU to win out? But I also wasn’t expecting two Untamed fics to make it here, either. But I am stupid proud of this fic even if it is very extraordinarily unfinished. This is one of those unfinished fics that will nag at me unless and until I finish it, at least a little, because the concept - if I do say so myself - is so goddamn good and I think I was executing it pretty well, too.

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Pretty much never. I was never very good at it and now I’d feel like I had to go back and reply to all of them and I just. I can’t do that. and when I do try to just start at the beginning I get overwhelmed very fast and start avoiding it.

Basically I decided that if it’s a decision between wrestling with myself to reply to comments versus actually doing more writing I’m going to end up landing on the latter as feeling both more doable and more productive.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

probably it’s The Worlds Forgotten, the Words Forbidden for sheer level of “so then what was the point” of it all. but like. I’ve definitely written a few extraordinarily miserable fics, and by “a few” I kind of mean “a lot.” Other nominees I’d put down might be nor autumn falter (for currently personally making me suffer most), once there was a way to get back home (for I think having the ouchiest summary), and Waiting for the Summer Rain (which remains one of my personal favorite Supernatural fics I wrote).

but like. there are 43 fics I have marked with Major Character Death warnings and every single one of those, pretty much, has a downer ending.

Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you’ve written?

I have written several though not in a long time! My craziest probably remains the Morgoth/Cthulhu short I wrote that actually got sporked because someone took it seriously (???) enough to do that. But the craziest that actually has any merit, (I’d argue) is probably the Maeglin/Viserys one.

not linking to either, if you want to go find them I don’t think it’ll be that hard.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Yeah, a few times on a few different things. More if you count “people who seem to like the fic but love telling you how much they hate the female characters you’re writing about in it” as ‘hate’ which I would but isn’t, you know, quite as straightforward. If I had a nickel for every time someone bitched about Jane in Life in Reverse, though...lots of nickels.

Do you write smut? if so what kind?

Sure do! But what does ‘what kind’ mean, I don’t know how to answer that question. I feel tempted to just put in my “Mike’s Hard Kinks” image edit in this space.

I guess usually I tend to write smut that at least involves a little bit of a kink? I don’t think I’d feel comfortable writing entirely kinkless smut. I think I’d feel weird about it, the same way I do when I write really nice fic, generally.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I think I did back when but I don’t remember anything about it. I feel like it was one of those mass data scraping things where my fic happened to be among those caught up in it.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

I have! several actually, mostly into Russian and Chinese. every time it happens I’m immensely flattered that someone wants to put in that kind of work on something I wrote.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I think I’d be very, very bad at it.

What’s your all time favorite ship?

Depends on when you ask me! I could probably give you a top five but then I’d remember six that I forgot to mention five minutes later. I guess if I were to think about ships that feel like they hold very special particular places in my heart... Xue Yang/Xiao Xingchen, Steve Rogers/Loki, and Min/Rand come to mind.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

oh god do you want the whole list cause honestly I could just like. screencap the entirety of my “in progress” folder with a crying emoji watermarked over it. and that’s not getting into the fics that are like...half formed babies in my consciousness but not anywhere on paper.

and also I just hate to admit that I might not finish something.

you know what? the Lucifer/Good Omens crossover I started would’ve been a lot of fun. I’m probably never going to finish it, but it would’ve been great if I had. I know other people did it too but my contribution could’ve been amazing.

I can say this very boldly with the near certainty that I’m not going to finish the fic so no one will be able to disagree.

(...also the Last Herald-Mage fix it. that was going to be a good fic too, and also will probably languish unfinished forever.)

What are your writing strengths?

I’m pretty sure dialogue is my strongest point. Dialogue and emotions, which is why I always end up just wanting to write about characters talking and having feelings at each other.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Writing action sequences throws me into conniptions every time I have to do it and I will take drastic actions sometimes to avoid doing it at all, which probably weakens the work as a whole.

Also, I don’t plan ahead and this means I write myself into corners kind of a lot. If I wasn’t writing long, dense fic it wouldn’t be a problem but here we are.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I tend to avoid it unless it’s in the context of, as in CQL/MDZS fic, leaving certain terminology untranslated. I’m pretty sure I almost never write full exchanges of dialogue in a different language than I’m using for the narration within a fic, and generally speaking my reaction to other people doing it is at least mildly negative.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter was technically the first fandom I wrote for, but it was a crack fic I wrote to make my friends laugh more than anything; I tend to count Wheel of Time as my first actual fandom for which I wrote my first actual fic.

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

some days the answer is “all of them” and some day the answer is “I don’t like anything I’ve written in my entire life” and I never like giving this a definitive answer. yesterday I reread efforts in a common cause (the bound copy!! thanks @spockandawe) and you know what, that was a good fic and I’m proud of it, so I’m going with that one, for this meme, today.

tagging: @mostfacinorous, @jaggedcliffs, @silvysartfulness, @mikkeneko, @kasasagi-eye, @curiosity-killed, how many people am I supposed to tag for this one anyway

#lise memes #confessions of a frustrated writer

29 notes · View notes

kumoriyami-xiuzhen · 3 years

Text

Hakuoki Shinkai Hana no Shou Okita After Story Translation

This is my first post of the month, so I’ll start by asking you to please support me if you can through my ko-fi, and paypal or patreon which provides access to my hakuoki blog translations and early access to my postings. Also, please let me know if you have any hakuoki drama cds that you’d be willing to share that are on my Lookout List since i either do not have audio for those cds or do not have audio that I can share.... and if you are able to remove watermarks from a video, please contact me.

Finally done with all of what i refer to as these after stories. this is the last translation of what i have from the 「薄桜鬼真改華ノ章」ステラワース早期予約特典小冊子. did Souji’s last partly cuz he’s one of my least favourite routes (sorry but not sorry. also i won’t deny that my premier target audience for most of my translations for content that doesn’t come from one of the games is myself ;D), and well, i would categorize my thoughts as mostly angsty (there’s a reason why i mostly write angst lol) and didn’t exactly need more of it...

still, it’s kinda sad that it took me almost 2 years to finish translating all of what I could for these... but hey, i can’t help it if I get distracted by other stuff that i find more interesting.... ahahahaaaa....(excuse me as i go hide until next week’s translation lol).

also, in case someone doesn’t know, i’ve already translated the after stories for Saito, Hijikata, Yamazaki, Kazama, Hijikata, Harada, Heisuke and now Souji... and am unable to translate the others as I don’t have it in CN tho I can go scan the rest should someone want to translate the stories for Shinpachi, Sanan, Souma, Iba, or Sakamoto.

enjoy? maybe? lol?

Hakuoki Shinkai Hana no Shou After Story Translation - Okita Souji

Translation by KumoriYami

(TN: just an fyi, Souji doesn't call Chizuru "Chizuru-chan" in this. checked the booklet just to be sure.)

The scene was in the mountains, they had been dyed bright red as the sun set in the West.

And the one looking over this scene, was the sword genius, former First Division Shinsengumi Captain, Okita Souji.

(Speaking of which, since childhood, I would always look into the direction of my hometown at dusk.)

While he thought this, the sound of frantic footsteps from further away, came closer.

As for who the sound of these footsteps belonged to, it was obvious. She was...... [It was her]

"——Souji-san! What are you doing here?

For the present Okita, this woman was more important than his own life, Yukimura Chizuru.

From the way she gasping from having run down the mountain path, she seemed quite anxious. When she found Okita was missing, she selflessly began to search for him.

Okita showed a look of ignorance and looked back at her.

"Asking me what I'm doing...... can't you tell after after looking? I'm watching the sunset.

He answered in a tranquil tone. Immediately this young woman lost her strength and fell to her knees.

"If you're doing that, please tell me first...... Just now, I couldn't find Souji-san, so I was very worried."

It seemed that her words were true. Because there was sweat on her slim neck, and her cheeks were bright red.

Seeing Chizuru like this, he felt full of tenderness/affection, and he couldn't but think of tightly embracing her small body.

On the other hand though, he also felt the urge to tease her so that he could see her troubled appearance.

(Even I feel that these days are/this day is quite boring. [can't tell if this is plural or not])

"Do you dislike not seeing me?"

"Of course, that's because Souji-san is a very special/important person to me."

There was no hesitation as Chizuru replied in this way. She was also very aware of how these words made Okita feel at ease.

"Good grief, are there really no problems? We just didn't see each other for a short amount of time."

His abrupt words made Chizuru look sad.

"……Please don't say such a thing."

Although she was well aware of what was going to happen, she didn't want think about it right now. Her innocent expression seemed to say this.

(This teasing seems to have been too much.)

As Okita thought this, he gently extended his hand.

"Come here, Chizuru."

After a short confused moment, the young woman grabbed Okita's hand. He firmly held her small hand, then pulled her small body into his embrace.

"Ah……"

She couldn't help but make a small sound and Okita hugged her. A sweet and floral fragrance emanated from her hair and neck.

He gently combed her hair, and both of their eyes coincidently found each other's. Those sincere eyes were staring straight into Okita's,

(How good would it be if we were always able to look at each other like this.)

This felt just like a dream. Before he he was in a relationship with her, the memories he had of when he lived alone....... were quite vague.

"Hey, Chizuru. Let me say one thing first."

Hearing Okita's words, she blinked at him in disbelief. Looking at her adorable expression, he opened his mouth.

"Even though I'll pass away one day, you can't/aren't allowed to follow me. Even if you're alone, you need to keep on living."

"…………"

Chizuru bit her lips.

Similarly to how Okita was unable to remember what happened when he lived by himself, she wasn't able able to imagine what would happen to her after losing Okita.

(If I was more considerate, I might say "after I die, live happily with someone else"......)

But it was impossible for him to give Chizuru to someone else. Even if he knew if doing that might make her happy.

Chizuru seemed to have understood what he really thought. "So what's your answer? Chizuru."

In the face of Okita's question, she sadly lowered her head——

"…………I know."

She responded with a depressed voice.

"Very good."

He muttered softly, then gently stroked Chizuru's cheeks.

There large eyes before him were now slightly moist. This expression indicated that she had a clear understanding of what was going to happen later.

For a good while, she quietly kept her eyes closed.

Okita put his lips against her slightly opened lips, and felt the slight warmth as they touched. Their was a dream-like kiss, almost as if it were a whisper that could not be heard unless it were attentively listened to.

Although he had kissed these lips multiple times, to the point where he couldn't remember, he also didn't know how many times he would be able to kiss these lips in days to come.

The lips that joined with his seemed to be shaking/trembling with grief. He was immediately able to tell that she was crying.

"……Don't cry. Because you're a strong child."

As he wiped the tears from the corner of the young woman's eyes, he gently reprimanded her.

But in fact, his heart felt happy because Chizuru shed tears for him.

(I didn't expect that in my lifetime/life, that I would actually meet a woman who would cry for me.)

Thinking back, this was an ill-fated relationship. Okita thought so.

(My life will not last for a long time.…… but it wasn't completely bad, because in the end, I was able to meet you like this. Maybe the purpose of my life was to meet you.)

Without even realizing it, the sun already set, and the nearby scenery was gradually coloured like the water. The two of them then set off on their way home alongside one other.

-end-

#hakuoki #hakuouki #Hakuoki Other Translation #Okita Souji #Yukimura Chizuru

46 notes · View notes

janekfan · 3 years

Text

Dismiss

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28016568

This was all Jon’s fault.

He should have known; he’d just brought about an apocalypse for christ’s sake! Of course it was too soon! Of course Martin would be upset at finding him rifling in the dark like an addict. What if there was something worse hiding away in another one and there he was, walking in on Jon pawing through the box for a goddamn snack?

But after the panic and questions and shouting at a sky that only looked on silent and steady, the shakiness was back. The ache. The draw that came from knowing they were here and whispering to him, beckoning to him, promising to ease the hurt building up in his bones as the Eye continued to take and take and take when the well had long since run dry.

And now Martin was alone. Holed up in the bedroom, their(?) bedroom, and it was Jon’s fault. He was alone again and it was because he was too selfish to think beyond feeding the monster he’d become. All because he couldn’t wait, couldn’t give him even a moment to try and forget about Jon’s dietary needs and the pain they caused. There was no way it was easy on Martin, knowing that Jon required.

This.

Worse still was the disappointment, the devastation rolling over him like the rain laden clouds of a storm as he backed away, anguished betrayal pooling in his eyes, even as Jon reached for him, excuses pouring over his lips like ink from a pen.

The mug in his hand seemed like such a paltry offering. Martin deserved infinitely more than this and Jon would never be up for the task if he kept relying on his more monstrous half. Like his resolve, his hold on the ceramic tightened. If Martin wanted him to hold off, or, or prove that he was better than his thirst for fear, then he would give that to him.

Anything for him.

“M’Martin?” He called through the door rather than knock, holding his breath while the decision to let him in or not was made. He couldn’t help but count the seconds, forty seven, a small eternity. Jon fought the impulse to apologize again, Martin said he did that far too much, likely thought he didn’t truly mean it because he never seemed to fix his mistakes. Patience. Wait.

It was not his forte.

“Come in.” Good lord, Martin sounded so tired and when Jon stepped into the room he could see him curled up on the bed facing away from him, the slope of his shoulders defeated. The desire to express remorse all but choked him and he swallowed it down with difficulty. It wouldn’t be for Martin anyway, not really, just another selfish attempt to assuage his own guilt.

“I’m. I brought tea?” Another step closer, watching Martin sit up slowly, elbow rising up as he swiped at his eyes. “O’of course it, it could never hope to m’measure up to yours. I’m afraid I’I’ve never been a deft hand.” He was babbling, rounding the frame so fast that liquid splashed over his fingers. “Mm. B’but here? It’s warm?”

“Thank you, Jon.” It shouldn’t have mattered but the lack of an endearment he’d become so used to was like a blow. Still, he accepted the tea, taking a measured sip before setting it aside and glancing up with red rimmed eyes.

“I. I wasn’t thinking.” To prevent himself reaching for more, Jon plucked at the bottom hem of his, of Martin’s jumper, picking and pulling at the stray threads.

“I was. Surprised, I guess? That you could even look at--” He shook his head, “it’s not important.” And while Jon didn’t agree considering how insensitive he’d been, he welcomed Martin’s arms around him.

“Can’t it wait, Jon?”

Caught.

As he tried to steal away up the stairs with his prize, all too aware of the inherent chicanery.

All too aware of the exasperation in Martin’s voice as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

Exasperation with him.

“I can’t exactly...avoid you in here.” He gestured absently to the small space of the cabin made smaller by fear of leaving and they both knew well there was no way Martin wouldn’t be able to hear him. It physically hurt to replace the yellowed paper back into its watermarked manila folder.

“S’sorry Martin. Of course it can wait.” But it was worse for having held it in his hands, for having been so close and the Eye was railing at him now, shouting in his mind for his denial and dizzying him with its volume. Instead Jon settled for stumbling over to the couch to burrow into Martin’s warmth, sighing when he draped a heavy arm across his aching shoulders and dropped a kiss into his messy hair. Beneath his ear Martin’s pulse beat loud, nearly drowning out the yammering want and sluggish and thick, Jon responded in a sleepy hum to Martin’s questions, sinking into a doze when he began to pet through his tangled curls.

Without a dose of second hand fear it only became worse, to the point where his scars screamed out whenever he moved, breathed, and Jon found himself losing large tracts of time even when he wasn’t sleeping. The inside of his skull was stuffed full of candy floss and digging through any of it for a spare thought was far beyond his ken.

Martin didn’t leave anymore.

For very good reason, but Jon couldn’t find a moment alone to, to, to.

Eat.

Even old and stale they would provide a reprieve.

“Martin.” His own voice sounded as though he were hearing it through the walls of a submarine, muffled and strained, and he wasn’t totally certain of his volume. “I. I need to read. To read a statement.”

Please.

The disbelief knitting Martin’s brow almost made him want to cry. It. He’d waited so long. Tried to sneak, be out of the way, to ask.

“The world just ended!” Martin avoided saying just who ended it but it was there in the set of his mouth and Jon winced irrationally at the volume; he wasn’t being yelled at, just about. “And you want to read a bloody statement now?” Incredulous, and at his tone, Jon folded himself into a small origami shape on his spot on the sofa, sharp at all his corners and hopefully harder to hit.

“No! I mean, I--”

“I don’t understand.” His voice was soft now, imploring. "Did you forget what caused this in the first place?" Oh, but he knew the answer to this question. It was good to know.

“M’me?” When Martin sighed, the disappointment captured in it stung.

“Yeah, I mean, no. It’s not your fault you were tricked into reading--look, I just think it’d be better if we waited. At least until we have a plan?” That made sense and he said so, words tripping up in a jumble on his tongue. “Jon, are you alright?”

No. He was hurting and upset and couldn't decide which was the greater ache.

“Yes. Just tired.”

“I’m ready for a kip after the staring contest I had with the sky earlier.” That would be nice. Martin was warm and soft and it didn’t all hurt so much when he was asleep.

His scars pulsed with a feverish ache, twisting, burning, smoldering embers in a body crying out for relief, thoughts disconnected, disoriented, disjointed, knotted up past, present.

He hated this. Hated himself, hated how nothing made sense anymore, all a vast landscape of, boiling, melted wax running together in a kaleidoscope of color.

Martin must hate what he is, hate that he ruined the world and want him to know it. Maybe once he’d learned to be more careful, more thoughtful Martin would let him have one. That's all, he just had to be patient. He still held him, kissed him, loved him, this was just a, a lesson. That's all. When he told him the right answers, when he figured them out, he’d be allowed to read and fill the emptiness eating him away from inside out.

He’d rather Martin than a statement any day.

Just a bit longer.

“Jon.” Martin left him in bed this equivalent to morning in hopes it would stave off whatever he’d come down with but enough was enough. “You can’t spend all day sleeping, love. We need to figure this out.” You can’t ignore what you’ve done and leave me to clean up your mess. Uncharitable, the thought came out of nowhere and Martin was thankful he’d kept his frustration to himself. He knew it wasn’t his fault. Breaking it down to blame wouldn’t help anybody, least of all the entire world. Magnus was old and he’d taken the time to plan this, manipulating them all into place, and asking Jon to carry the whole weight of that wasn’t fair. Fading in and out, thick and syrupy, Jon’s unsteady voice rose from the mountain of quilts.

“Nnn...n’feeling...very well.” He looked dreadful, flushed and fevered, and not for the first time Martin wondered if this was a leftover side effect of the ritual. “S’so cold…” Taking pity, Martin curled around his too thin and shivering frame where Jon panted harshly into his neck, the brush of overheated air humid at his throat.

“What’s wrong, darling?”

“Hur’s.” Worry flooded Martin’s chest, constricting and tight. There were no doctors here, no ambulance he could call on.

“Where?”

“Ss…” With difficulty he flexed his burned hand.

“Scars?”

“Ah.”

“Alright, I’m here.” Gently Martin ran a light hand along the seam of his spine in the hope it brought Jon some measure of comfort if nothing else.

Idiot.

It took him too long to put the pieces together. How big did a neon sign have to be before he could read it?

Selfish. Foolish. Stupid. And the one paying dearly for it was Jon.

“You need to come awake for me, love.” He’d already heaved him up once only for him to swoon and this time he bullied him to his feet where he stood swaying dangerously but Martin needed him to be awake, to get his blood moving and stay that way.

“Mma’tin…” agonized, breathless, what had he said earlier? About hurting, his scars? God, Martin, you just watched him fall apart in front of you and did nothing. Worse than nothing. “Sstop…”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” For so much, for not listening, for thinking ever that Jon would keep seeking out statements for anything other than necessity. “You’re doing so well, so, so well.” To think he nigh accused him of wanting to Know and nothing else; childish and angry. “But you need to wake up, you need to be able to listen.”

“Am...am.” Marble mouthed, dark lashes like strokes of ink fluttered, obscured the unnatural green glow always seeking. “Lis…” he broke off into a low, shaky moan, curling into himself, trying to sink to the floor, and Martin wanted to cry, worried that if he left him alone for even a moment he wouldn’t be able to wake him again. So he swept him into his arms instead, heart shattering when Jon bit off a sharp sob as his palm ghosted over the gap in his ribs, sore and sensitive and even so, he turned his face into Martin’s chest, twisted trembling fingers into wash-worn wool with a keening whine. He'd hurt him, accused him, berated him.

And Jon still turned to him as though he were the sun.

“Shh, soon now.” Shallow and short, Jon’s chest hitched as he pressed his fever hot forehead hard into his shoulder and swallowed with a wet click.

“Mmah…” around another convulsive swallow and it was barely warning enough to get him over the sink where he coughed up the tea Martin forced into him earlier. Strung tight and painfully wound, Jon exhaled in relief when Martin let him slide boneless down the cabinetry to the floor, cheek pillowed on the cool painted wood. Lifting his chin, Martin brushed back sweat soaked curls, pressed a promise into fiery skin.

“I’m going to fix this.” As quick as he could Martin ran to the closet and grabbed the whole box, returning to find Jon sprawled out on his back, limbs twisted and loose where he fell. “Oh, Jon.” There was no time to make him comfortable, not when for all Martin knew he was dying because he’d refused to see what was right in front of him, what Jon had been trying to tell him. Because it meant that Jon truly wasn’t human and clearly part of Martin wanted to ignore that.

And now.

“Jon, darling, please.” In his lap, listless deadweight, face turned unconsciously toward the statements. “Open your eyes, Jon, which ones haven’t you read?” Martin clawed through the folders, skimming titles, trying to remember if he’d heard any snippets, but no. He didn’t like listening to them, didn’t want to hear the horrors of others. If he’d stayed with him would he have been able to stop Magnus’ plan? “Jon!” Listing numbers, names, until the floor around them was tiled in paper. Hitching him higher, Martin kissed his pulsepoint when his head lolled, slow and sluggish. “Jon.” Which one?

“Mmm...”

“This one?” He read the first sentence, shuddering already at the chill running up his spine. “Jon?” Another paragraph and uncoordinated, his arm struck out, reaching blindly. “Okay, alright. Are you listening?” The tiniest nod, Martin wasn’t sure if he imagined it or not, but began to read, steady as he could, sick with himself when the tremors eased and tight, spasming muscles unspooled under his worried hand. When the tears came he had to force himself to keep on, beside himself that he couldn’t comfort him. With the great gasping breaths of a man half drowned, Jon swung his arms around Martin’s neck when the strength came back to his arms as it all drew to a close.

“Th’thank you.” Damp spread over his skin, his words tinged with desperate relief. “M’sorry, m’s’sorry.”

“For what?” He clutched him back, the sound of paper crumpling in his fist sharp in his ears and punctuated by Jon’s frantic apologies, his uneasy gratefulness.

“Th’thank you, Martin, thank y’you. Won’ a’a’ask again.”

“Jon.”

“Can wait.” The quake in his voice was shivery and small and devastation pooled in Martin’ stomach.

It sounded too much as though--

“Oh darling, oh no, no. I.” He had to pause, to swallow the tangle of emotion clotting up his throat and gathered him closer. “I didn’t understand. That’s all. I would. Jon.” Gently he shifted him to get a look at his tear streaked and exhausted face, swiping at his own eyes before cupping his cheek and drawing his thumb over the too-prominent bone there. “Never, I would never h’hurt, or punish--I didn’t know. I didn’t listen.” The first statement’s reprieve was wearing thin and Martin settled Jon against his chest where he laid still, head resting on his shoulder as he reached for another envelope.

The light never changed, no matter the time, but it was softer now. Here.

Pastel behind his eyelids as if swimming through a twilight consciousness into the soft sensations of waking. The knit strands of Martin’s cardigan threaded between his tangled fingers and he shifted closer, so warm, the fever chills he’d suffered for days a thing of the not too distant past. Jon wanted to collect this feeling, this safety, bottle it up for when Martin finally figured out that the only thing he knew how to do was take. Holding his breath, he tried to stay in this moment and absorb the feeling of Martin’s body pressed against his own, slotted perfectly together like a pair of puzzle pieces, the heat generated beneath the quilt comforting, intoxicating.

Even though Jon could tell you more than most that stealing scraps of affection never amounted to enough.

Soft kisses rained over his skin, over every scar, because he’d been unable to cry quietly enough to leave Martin undisturbed. He pulled away, scrubbed his face with the heel of his scarred hands.

“Sorry.”

“Please, don’t be.” And he wanted to believe him, that he could have this even with what he was. That he wouldn’t ruin Martin like he’d already ruined so much. “Come here, love.” Patient. Martin was so patient with him even when the uncertainty had to show in his face. “It’s alright.” And Jon dove back in, hands not so much brushing against each other as colliding when he reached for more, more, more, taking, taking, taking. Hiccuping with sobs, burrowing close, closer, the closest he could be, where Martin’s kiss was a soft promise pressed between them, told to his mouth rather than his ear but a message of love and protection and tenderness all the same. Tears he forgot he’d been crying were thumbed gently away, so carefully it was as though Martin worried he would break under the weight of his touch.

Sated, the Beholding a murmur lost in the rhythm of Martin’s heart, Jon allowed himself to be lost, to let someone else, someone he loved and who loved him in return, carry it all just for a little while.

“How’re you feeling?” He approached with a cup of tea, inadequate though it was for an apology, passing it off to Jon’s eager, steady hands. His color was better, the flush faded, and he’d stopped moving like there were needles wedged in every joint.

“Much better, thank you, Martin.” Whyever would he thank him? But here he was, eyes closed in appreciation of the first sip, patting the cushion next to him in open invitation.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” After a beat of silence Jon set aside the mug and folded his hands in his lap.

“I thought you knew.” His fingers flexed and Jon forced himself to look Martin in the eye. “I thought it was what you, what you wanted.” And the confusion in his expression, that he had possibly miscalculated, was painful. But isn’t that what he’d learned time and time again? Tim, Basira, Melanie, Daisy, even Martin himself! That when he made mistakes, made wrong choices, when he’d done something they didn’t approve of he’d been yelled at, ridiculed, threatened, terrified, hurt, abandoned. He laughed, a bitter, deprecating huff. "I did end the world after all. You've a right to be upset."

“Wha--no! Jon, no! If I’d--” speechless, that Jon just accepted so easily being hurt this way, accepted that Martin, even accidentally, wanted to see him punished for his part in bringing about Magnus’ plan.

“When I, I asked. I. It made you so angry.”

"Jon. No matter how angry I am, I never want to hurt you or punish you. That’s not okay."

"But--"

“I should have never made you feel--” He grit his teeth, calmed his voice. There was no part of him that wanted Jon to interpret his anger at himself as anger pointed towards him. “Please, if I do this again. Please, love.” For a moment Jon looked like he wanted to argue and Martin tugged him into an embrace, overjoyed when it was returned, his response muffled in his jumper.

“Alright.”

#I'm still working on prompts #don't worry!#tma #the magnus archives #hurt comfort #jmart #jonmartin #statement sick #statement hunger #starvation #miscommunication #unreliable narrator #sickfic #sick jon #guilt #pain #scars #jon's grandma sucked

120 notes · View notes

steve0discusses · 3 years

Text

Yugioh Season Zero: The Yo-yo Crimes of Jounouchi Pt 2

OK, last we left off, we were in a different Youtube video. This one I grabbed off of 2 different videos (you’ll see their watermark in the corner change) and it makes me appreciate the quality that our other episodes have been, honestly. A little bit of compression going on in these, just to give you even more of that nostalgic feel of watching a bootleg anime from the 90′s your brother got from his weird high school friend’s Napster account.

Because this is done with subtitles on, it takes more caps to cover it. Part of why I rewrite the dialogue in these recaps is to help abridge stuff, and so consider yourself warned...there’s a lot of caps in this one. For most of you, that’s probably not much of a problem. But I’m just letting you know because...I sure wasn’t expecting it to be over 40 caps for half an episode, and I’ll probably just type less to make up for that. (Tumblr keeps Erasing All My Words anyway, so this is for the best, but that’s a tech issue I already went into in another post.)

(read more under the cut)

So, to start off, Yugioh and co. walk up to a bar like a really weird version of a bar joke and are like “do you know where we can find the yo-yo gang?” And, much like a video game npc, the bartender was like “I know EXACTLY what you’re talking about, and I heard every part of their intimate conversation. Let me give you all the details, children.”

Hey, PS, there’s an entire Wikipedia entry about the bar joke. And that is wild. Apparently the first bar joke was from Ancient Sumeria, and Wikipedia was like “Here is the Sumerian joke, but we Do Not Get it. Please don’t try to get it.”

The joke being: "A dog walked into a tavern and said, 'I can't see a thing. I'll open this one'."

Damn. I can’t believe the Sumerians were onto meme humor before we ever invented memes. They were in the Galaxy brain over there in the land before time, holy crap. Depositing their memes knowing that 7,000 years later mankind would look at the world’s first joke and be like “I don’t get it!” while all the millennials and zoomers with our MB of nonsense memes on our phones are like “No. I get it.” Good on you Sumerians, that is freakin the best joke ever made. 7000 years to get to the punch line of confusing the hell out of all us. Bless.

They promptly tell Miho that everything was resolved and that she should go to bed and she was like “Cool!” and exited stage left. Bye, I guess. Anzu also went home, but she didn’t have to be tricked into doing it, she just went the hell to bed.

(PS, I just realized that if I want to write less...I should probably not look up Wikipedia articles about the world’s first ever bar joke. But y’all, habits die so freakin hard, and I just feel like it’s very pertinent to this Yugioh recap, although I know it’s really not.)

Yuugi and Honda decide to visit the warehouse and harass Jounouchi. In the context of the show, they’re going out of their way to pull their best friend out of society’s systemic downward pull of a life of crime and most likely turning into exactly like his Father. But, the way that it’s storyboarded makes it look a lot like these kids just show up out of the corner and this gang was like “Damn it, again? OMG small children, please leave us alone!”

Honda hands over the symbolism sash, to which Jounouchi symbolically says “Nyeh.”

And Honda didn’t take it very well.

After tending to his kidneys for a little while, Honda decided to go back at it again at the Krispy Cream and do some sort of insane parkour over this completely ordinary fence.

Ah, the very first instance of real duel law where you duel over a relationship. In later seasons duel law is invoked for things like Mai’s marriage and the right to date Tea (and then just kind of forgetting you ever won the right to date Tea twice). But to think the very first time was Honda dueling for the right of Jounouchi to be part of nerd gang because Jounouchi had fallen to the dark side yo-yo gang across the street run by some 40 year old man with blue hair.

How many times is Honda gonna fight with a broom? Like are they just magnetized to his location? where are they even coming from?

Freakin janitor powers over here, put him in a Final Fantasy style RPG. I want to see what his limit break would be.

Not like it matters, because Hirotani very quickly explains why these yo-yo’s are at all a threat.

Which honestly shouldn’t be...so lethal? Seems like the weight is all you need, not really the spikes. But it’s at least stronger than Honda’s janitor stuff.

Unfortunate for Honda that he just destroyed an antique.

So with lightning reflexes, Yuugi does what he does most:

The death yo-yo ricochets back and does this little itty bitty scrape to this guy’s face and he’s real bothered by it. Although it’s like...well dude, you’re a 50 year old high schooler, I don’t think people will notice the scrape compared to everything else falling apart in your life.

And so then the Yugioh Season Zero team was like “oh shoot is it time to torture Yuugi???” and they got hella excited.

Like I thought it was just Yuugi’s class that were a bunch of disturbing criminal disasters, but I guess it’s the whole city. Like...was Yuugi’s class the good school?

I mean, it can’t be, there’s no way...

but like...is there a good school in this universe? How does anyone survive till graduation? If you so much as disgrace a yo-yo, you will get the torture treatment that I sure did expect in Yakuza games, but not so much in Yugioh, tbh.

Just a reminder: This is the third time we’ve beat up Yuugi this episode. Within the first meeting of Yuugi and Hirotani, he beat the tar out of Yuugi within eye shot of Jounouchi. So like...Jounouchi was reallllllllllllllllly lax on that deal, right? Like...he took his toot sweet time to realize “yeah this just ain’t ever gonna happen.”

And then the yo-yo wars begin.

Just like Solid Snake crawling through the radiation chamber.

Hirotani throws his Fyper-yoyo, Jounouchi intercepts with his Eireboy, and Hirotani’s completely terrible yo-yo just flies off the string again because Hirotani should have just sticked to using his fists. No wonder they wanted to recruit Jounouchi so badly, their yo-yo game is so off.

We never get a door to darkness in this episode, dipping our enemies into mind horrors. Instead, we get home-alone style traps. But, this makes sense. Not only do the show makers have to make Yuugi avoid solving problems with magic in front of Jounouchi, they also have to make it Jounouchi’s choice to leave Hirotani behind. If Yuugi did it for him in like...some sort of duel law situation...then that sort of leaves out Jounouchi’s choice in the equation.

Not like this ever really comes up in later seasons, since who even follows through with duel law and marries Mai? But like, it does feel like Season Zero calls out the later Seasons a bit in this regard. Honda got beat up because he tried to win Jounouchi back by force (or game, I guess.) That was just another form of coercion on the heels of Hirotani’s. What Jounouchi actually needed was to make his own decision to leave.

...most other anime I’d be like “I’m sure that’s just a translation error” but not this one.

So Yuugi runs to the roof where Jounouchi will never see this.

My audible sigh reading this line about fight club roof.

These stupid gang members went into Yuugi’s native territory, not just a fight club roof, but on a warehouse? They were dead before they arrived.

This was like maybe 3 frames of animation in just rapid succession, it was pretty silly and good.

Reminder that like 4 minutes ago, Yuugi was about to get like executed on a meat hook.

Speaking of getting executed on a meathook:

Hope you like the idea of glass in your eyes, because this anime’s got it.

They chase Yuugi around, in a sequence that was done mostly to conserve frames, so you rarely saw the ground until this shot:

Lots of falling down this episode, but unlike Tea, who fell from a warehouse ceiling once and just kind of rubbed her ass after and was like “ah damn it.” these guys won’t come out of it virtually unscathed.

Also, Honda is here now:

Jumping off of his symbolic sash trapeze, he decides to do in Hirotani for good.

Hey so like...walk the dog is a fairly gentle walk that a yo-yo does slowly on the ground right?

Just pointing out how sensitive Hirotani’s fingies are.

And he...didn’t appear to be dead, so I don’t have to add to the bodycount...but it’s gonna be a real long road for recovery.

And now, with the gang back together Jounouchi is back at school knee deep in make up assignments he’ll probably completely ignore since we know that in a years time, these fools are going to be trapped on Pegasus’ island, and at that point school will be just that place you talk about when you try to remember why you’re friends with Bakura.

---hey aren’t those chairs attached to the desks?

Because...holy crap, Anzu.

Honestly this is what you see before you die, but I guess Jounouchi died off screen after the episode ended, so I don’t have to add him to the deathcount (again). RIP.

Alright! That took like...8 tries to get Tumblr to save this one, but it managed! (well...I guess “managed” isn’t the word you’d use for a typing program that takes 8 tries to save)

Next time, we’ll be back to S5, for an arc I’ve heard is kind of boring. We’ll see. If it truly is, I can condense episodes into fewer posts. Or maybe it’s a secret gem? I guess we shall see.

And if you just got here this is a link to read all the Season Zero recaps from the start:

https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yuugi-muto/chrono

(there’s also a link to read all the Yugioh posts we wrote from the start in chrono order but straight up, this file won’t freakin save, and I just can’t even will myself to look up that link again. It’s on the home page of this blog on the right.)

#YGO #yugioh #yu gi oh #Yuugi Muto #Jounouchi #Honda #Anzu #Miho #yo yo gang #Hirotani #Yuugi and the gang do serious property damage

27 notes · View notes