#because it can apply to both of them in a way

[softsunnyy]

🚨willmack (threesome), mentions of them cumming inside you, masturbation, oral sex, both at the same time, betting, being fucked stupid by your boys, who have a lot of energy, and i think that's all 🚨

poorly written

“if we both score at least one goal each today… you’ll let us use you,” Will proposed. You nearly choked on your coffee, feeling your cheeks flush. You looked at Macklin for help, but he just stared at you, attentive to your answer. You knew then that only you were surprised by the proposal, so you looked back at Will.

“sorry, what?” you said, setting your coffee aside, resting your arms on the counter, leaning in to look at him more closely. Mack’s eyes dropped to your tits, peeking out from under your shirt, as if you wanted him to see them.

“i have a feeling we’ll both score goals today, so what better way to celebrate?” he said, smiling, and you looked at him, amused, surprised, but also interested.

there had always been flirtations between the three of you; you and Macklin had even kissed, but it had never gone that far, and the intrigue was beginning to reach you. You wonder if they're capable of keeping their word.

“okay, if you can do it, i'll be free use for you,” you say, closing the deal. Your response brought a huge smile to their faces, motivating them.

that same night, you stared at the scoreboard with your mouth open, unable to believe your eyes.

not only did they both score. Macklin had pulled a fucking hat trick. As if it hadn't cost them anything. As if they truly yearned for it so much they'd do anything to have you.

you start to feel hot, knowing what's coming. Your mind floods with ideas, with scenarios. You start to feel desperate when you see the game isn't over yet, and you resist the urge to whimper when the camera focuses on them. And they´re laughing and talking on the bench. It's like they know you're watching, impressed, and that boosts their egos.

you see Macklin smile, then spit on the ice. Will's eyes follow every move, then repeat the action.

the commentators praise your guys, and it only makes you feel more needy. They keep talking about stats, how good they are, and the great future they have ahead of them if they keep playing this way. And you're so proud of them that you'd let them do whatever they wanted to you, you don't even care. Your pelvis jerks unconsciously, making you rub against the couch, the heat becoming more unbearable, your face burning. It's like everyone is turning against you, mocking the fate that awaits you.

you see Will take a hand out of his glove, fixing his hair. His veins are prominent, his hair messy. You see him laughing with his teammates, with a different glow, eager to end the game and receive what he's earned.

Macklin looks so big, you see him sip from the water bottle, and your eyes travel to his throat, paying attention to the movement, seeing his white skin, yearning to leave a trail of bites, of marks.

you can't help it; you wanna reward them, you want them to receive the best attention for being so good. You'd do anything for them, because they earned it, because they put that much effort for you, to be able to touch you, to be able to make progress with you.

it doesn't take long for you to start undressing, your mind clouded with ideas, thoughts of them, until you're naked on your couch, your legs spread, exposing your pussy. You're grateful they're focused on them all the time, because their faces on the screen make everything easier. Your fingers are quick, sliding between your folds, rubbing your clit, overstimulating yourself.

your hand moves faster and faster, applying the pressure you know you like, while your other hand plays with your tits. You know how it is. It's not the first time you've touched yourself while watching one of their games, thinking about them, imagining a thousand scenarios after the flirting, the glances.

and yet, you need them. You need them there with you

you slide two fingers into your pussy, stretching your walls, preparing you for them, putting your fingers deep inside you. You're rough, fast, moving them with precision, whimpering their names.

you imagine they're Mack's big fingers, and that Will is the one touching your tits. You wanna feel them, you wanna know what it feels like to have both of their cocks inside of you, taking over your body, doing all the things they've promised you, all the things they've bragged about.

you want them to touch you, you know they'll be gentle, because they're always like that with you, but you want their cocks to use you.

you want them, making comments, like the ones that make you nervous in public.

the game ends when you start to feel the tingling, the familiar knot. You start sliding your fingers faster. You torture yourself, and when you cum, it's loud, your fluids wetting your inner thighs.

you leave small slaps on your pussy, causing your fluids to squirt everywhere as you start rubbing your clit, overstimulating yourself, making you arch your back and your pelvis try to move away.

you don't even know how much time has passed, but you hear them open the door with the key you gave them earlier that morning.

the two of them stand there for a moment, frozen, watching the scene before them. The smell of your arousal fills the room, and they can hear the wet sound of your pussy, along with your desperate whimpers.

they wonder how many times you've cum, but that's forgotten when you look at them, your eyes glassy, your mouth open.

Will is the first to approach, standing in front of you, making you look up at him, feeling small. His gaze is intimidating, making your breath catch. You stop touching your pussy to give him your full attention, and he can see how your body continues to move unconsciously, searching for the lost contact.

he takes your chin, leaning down, joining his mouth with yours, kissing you, devouring your mouth. Macklin reacts, and begins to unbutton his pants as he approaches, then removes his shirt, revealing his big, tempting body. He comes up behind the couch, placing his hands on your shoulders, pretending to move down to your tits.

on the tv, he can see that you were watching them, and a feeling of pride forms in his chest. You'd started touching yourself while watching them.

god, he wants to forget the delicacy just thinking about that.

Will pulls away from you, resisting the urge to kiss you again. With his hands, he helps you stand, your legs trembling, still spasming, almost numb. You watch them look at each other, then he turn you around. Will had you rest your knees on the couch, leaning forward on the backrest, your head level with Mack's dick, while Will positioned himself behind you.

Macklin caresses one of your cheeks and lets you help him pull down his pants and then his underwear, freeing his cock under your hungry gaze. Will quickly removed his clothes, but didn't immediately approach your pussy, not as you expected, at least.

it was when you licked Mack's cock from base to tip that you felt Will's tongue in your pussy, tasting your juices, wandering between your folds. The addictive taste, he couldn't help it; he started devouring you, sucking, licking. Overstimulating your poor clit, making you moan against Macklin's cock, who whimpered, sensitive from how hard his cock was.

Will lingered, listening to your pleas, your whimpers, feeling the ache from how hard his dick is.

it's an interesting scene, with him kneeling behind you, his hands roaming over your body, leaving red marks from how hard his fingers grip your skin, while you try to swallow Mack's cock, trying to be good for him, and trying to resist, knowing that you´re gagging.

Macklin whimpers, his hands shaking a little, but one of them tangles in your hair, pulling you closer, forgetting the size of his cock for a moment, making you choke, your nose brushing against his pelvis as he moves, sliding, exploring your mouth, your heat, and feeling your drool reach his base, staining your chin and causing drops to roll down his tense thighs after the game.

Will moves his tongue expertly, swallowing your juices, seeing your red pussy, your swollen clit. He feels your legs tremble, and his cock aches, wanting your pussy, feel your warmth, feel your walls tighten around him.

they didn't expect the action to start so soon. God, they didn't even know it would actually happen, even though deep down they wanted it so bad. So walking in, seeing you ready for them, so eager and proud of the performance they'd shown... was one of the best surprises. They can't let you down now.

and you try, you try to resist, even though your throat hurts, you're gagging, and you know your voice will be funny later. You can feel the weight of Mack's cock on your tongue, and it's so heavy, hot, and big. Your jaw starts to go numb from the effort, and you start moving on automatic. You want to swallow his cum, feel it slide down your throat, like it's the cure, your reward for a job well done, while you feel another knot begin to form in your lower abdomen, the product of Will, who eats you like you're his last meal.

your legs tremble, they spasm violently, and Will can see your hole throbbing just before you cum, filling his mouth, sending drops running down his chin, making a path down his neck. And he keeps going, not caring how sensitive you are and how you try to pull away. His hands keep you still while he cleans you, swallowing every drop until there's nothing left. And then he stands up, watching you eat his friend, so hungry.

god, he wants to live that experience too.

and Macklin barely resists; he doesn't even know how he does it. Maybe it's how much he wants to stay inside you, but he keeps moving, keeps thrusting, filling you, making your moans die against his skin, sending vibrations through his cock that only make his life more complicated.

Will positions himself behind you, aligning the tip of his cock against your hole, your eyes become glassy again as you feel him begin to slide inside your walls, stretching you. And he's bigger than you thought; you feel like he's splitting you, like he's not going to fit, and you didn't expect that. You pull Mack's cock out of your mouth and moan, trying to grip his thighs, digging your nails in. And he sees a string of drool still connecting his tip to your mouth, making him have to stifle a moan.

your walls squeeze him, welcoming him like a new home, and he has to be patient, giving you a moment to recover while he tries not to come right there, feeling on the edge just from the way you´re so tight, so hot, and how good you feel, like you were made for him.

when your body unconsciously moves back, he knows he can start moving, so he does, first sliding slowly in and out, while you slowly resume your actions with Mack, returning your attention to his cock.

the pace slowly begins to increase, and the position makes you feel Will everywhere. He moves fast, hard, and you try to muffle your moans by using Mack, but it's getting harder. And Mack, oh, my sweet boy, feels like he's going to cry. Every time he's been on the verge of cumming, you take his dick out of your mouth to moan, as if you didn't want to give him the pleasure, as if you enjoyed making him suffer like this, while Will takes care of destroying you.

the sound is obscene, your pussy filled by a cock, his body slamming into yours, making your ass turn red. And your fluids make a mess, staining your body, leaving trails of drool and dried arousal on your skin, as well as on your boys' skin.

your mind is foggy, you feel dizzy, a little lightheaded, your eyes want to close on their own, and loud moans come from your mouth, frustrating Mack.

Will notices the situation and knows what he must do.

“baby, you're not helping Mack. Come on, look how ready he is for you, or you don´t want him?” his words make your eyes widen, and you try to return to your task, but it's so difficult that you whimper, frustrated, aroused, with fat, hot tears falling down your cheeks because you wanna be good for him.

“you’re leaving us no choice,” Will says, looking at his friend, communicating with him silently, knowing they’re both thinking the same thing. As always.

you feel him slide out of you, making you feel so empty, and you whimper, begging, pleading for forgiveness, trying to keep the fun going, until his hands take you and move you to his liking. He lies down on the couch and has you sit on his lap, facing him, resting your hands on his chest as you feel his hot cock pressed against your wet pussy. That's enough to distract you, not noticing Mack walk over to stand behind you, waiting.

soon you're back on Will's cock, and this time you feel him even deeper, making a small bulge form in your belly. You try to move, to ride him, but big hands push you forward, pressing your tits against Will's chest and making it impossible for you to move much.

"ready, babe?," you heard Macklin say, but you're too fucked up, not fully understanding what he's talking about. You're quieter, more lost. You had cum a couple of times before they arrived, leaving you fucked stupid.

it's then that you feel pressure on your pussy, in the same hole Will is using, and your eyes fill with tears, your mouth opens, but no sound comes out. You feel his cock slide in, and it's big, even more, and it stretches your walls too far. And you suffocate them, both of them. Their cocks together inside you, not moving yet, but making you feel shattered, broken, completely lost now.

Will tries to kiss you to distract you, but he can feel your tears until you try to move on your own. Macklin takes this as a good sign and begins to slide in, very slowly, carefully at first. His hands caress your back, feeling how it's still quite difficult to move inside you.

they're patient, letting you get used to it, letting your pussy open wider for them, to welcome them home. The sensation is better than they expected. It's addictive. And oh, they don't think they'll ever forget it now. You're gonna have to get used to it.

your pussy is gonna have to get used to it.

because they don't need to make bets anymore. They both know they'll keep coming back to you, asking for more, wanting to bury themselves in your pussy, in your walls, whether together or separately.

they're gonna mark you, they're gonna take over your body, and you won't be able to forget that pair, no matter what.

they're just getting started now, the night is long, but you already feel broken by the way they move inside you, and they don't care. They're young, they have energy, stamina. They're gonna use your body until you can't take it anymore, and they'll cum inside your walls until there's no more room, until both of their loads join together and create white rings at their bases.

they're gonna cum inside you again and again, because that's part of the deal... right?

oh, how did you go from flirting to this? none of you three know, but are you going to complain? of course not.

you just hope that tomorrow you can get out of bed.

[moonlight-prose]

i feel like I’ve been ignoring my boy so what do you think about hello/goodbye hugs that linger + joaquín torres?

who knows why?

a/n: this request has sat in my drafts for so long i can't remember when you sent it. but the yearning i had for torres in 2021/2022 has come back tenfold. and of course it had to be another friends to lovers arc. i always feel as if he's the perfect character for something this soft. plus you and i both know he's just that one friend you end up falling for after years of denying it. (i listened to DtMF to capture all those emotions needed.)

summary: the orders came in quicker than you wanted to accept. a place far enough to drag you from the friends made and family found. but when the time to say goodbye arises feelings begin to bleed through.

word count: 1.8k+

pairing: joaquin torres x reader

warnings: angst, fluff, goodbyes that are painful, joaquin is hopelessly in love, friends to lovers, teasing as best friends do, angst (because it's who i am), goodbyes.

The years were cruel to a soul that ached. Time that passed with fluid ease around someone stagnant—trapped against their will. Emotions tangled in a web that clung to their heart became a companion you were familiar with, a friend that complied to its own decisions. Wild. Untamed. Unpredictable in the face of everyone…especially him.

“I could go with you.” He fixed himself to the door frame, arms crossed and body stiff, as noise echoed behind him.

They were taking shots in the kitchen. Pre-gaming the final night out before they were handed mission orders. You could practically taste the cheap vodka from your perch on the bed—the pungent scent of lime chasers wafting through the open door. The night was meant to be filled with ease. Bar hopping, a club on the off chance it wasn’t spilling out with people, and early morning pancakes to curb the hangover.

All before the inevitable goodbyes.

The bitten back tears and watery smiles. The raspy promises of next times that would turn into almosts and unsure possibilities. You loathed that which couldn’t be stopped. A half filled life with friends who were found further away each year you tried to find them.

“You can’t go with me,” you sighed, wiping at the shitty eyeliner that never seemed to stick. “Wherever they put me is where I have to be. No friends allowed.”

A curl of his lips ensnared you—pulling at the fragments and tendrils of a heart that couldn’t take much more. “I could call Sam. Get him to do me a favor.”

“Nice,” you drawled. “Calling Captain America just to bug me wherever I wind up.”

“You can’t say you don’t enjoy me bugging you muñeca.”

“Never said I don’t.”

“You implied it.”

“Estas loco.”

“I’m not-”

A shrill overbearing voice you would know anywhere simply by the way Joaquin tensed as she stumbled down the hall—a half empty can of something you couldn’t read clutched in her sticky hand. “You’re gonna save me a dance tonight Torres.”

You dug your teeth into the side of your cheek, busying yourself with a mascara wand. Somehow her flirting always resembled a threat, but you speculated it was the twisting of your pulsating heart that told it differently. Joaquin was always one to appear polite. Saying yes in the face of those who would overlook how his brown eyes turned sharp. Piercing to the gut of whoever pushed him too far.

Hope flourished like a maddening inkling—another piece added to a forever half finished picture—when he shuffled away from her. You were insane to cling to it. Something so small even as he appeased her drunken pleas for more than just awkward conversations.

“Yeah…” You dug a nail into the palm of your hand, swallowing the ache that formed like a stone at the bottom of your empty stomach. “We could probably do that.”

The pleading gaze he threw your way went overlooked for the eyeliner that still had to be applied. A mundane task to distract from the way he was dragged out of the room, a raucous cheer of friends welcoming him back into the fray. He wasn’t yours to keep from the fun. Certainly not someone you could place a claim over after years of friendship—the hope of something more diminishing with every passing year.

You couldn’t delude yourself into believing things would change. The orders were pinned on your board to be taken in the morning, a harsh slap of reality placed upon the life you might never have. But you could accept that. Getting your first post wasn’t meant to be tangled with a man, especially your best friend.

So you’d grin and bear it. A familiar action you were used to submerging yourself into.

“Vamos!” Your friend shouted, giving you just enough time to grab your phone before they shuffled out into the front yard.

Orange lights blinded you the second you crossed the club’s threshold—flashing with the rhythm of the music. Everyone dispersed before you could ask what the plan was, leaving you to stumble after them. Three vanished into the throng of people on the dance floor, loud music blaring a reggaeton song you recognized from years ago. The bar was crowded, people packed into such a small space—the alcohol flowing with ease given the summer heat.

“Lost?”

You jumped, Joaquin’s hands steadying you in the heels that stuck to a tequila layered floor. “I think we’ve been ditched.”

“More fun this way,” he shouted over the music. “Means we don’t have to babysit.”

“I’d say we can get drunk, but…”

He nodded, palms slipping into yours. “I dance better sober.”

“I doubt that!” you laughed.

“Oh that’s how it’s gonna be? Mírame.” Yanking you close enough to avoid getting stepped on, he twirled you into a familiar two step. Muscle memory snapping to attention the closer he got—his touch sliding to grab at the fabric around your hips.

Dancing with Joaquin felt like home. A familiar realm of comfort that finally gave you the chance to fall into his touch—your body melting into the fast beat of the song. There wasn’t much room to move, people crowded in until they spilled out the front doors, but you ignored it for the favor of having him close. The heady scent of his cologne and sweat coated your senses, blinding you to the cheap tequila you could practically taste off everyone else.

Someone rammed into your back, elbow knocking the wind out of your lungs. “Fresh air?”

His hand clasped over yours. “Way ahead of you.”

Nearly getting hit in the head by two men spinning their girls had Joaquin dragging you quick enough to trip you. His body acting as the barrier for such a large crowd—stepping into the role of protector until you were no longer around to need him.

How could you explain that to lose him would rip the ground beneath you usually steady feet? That to leave him was destroying the very gravity that held you firm on the ground.

“I won’t miss this place,” you muttered, sucking in a lungful of crisp air until the burn spread across your chest. “Too many fucking people.”

He grinned, thumb catching the thrumming vein along your wrist. “It’s not so bad.”

“Well…no. It’s never bad with you.”

“That right?” Lips pulled into a smirk you’d seen a thousand times over, mischief screaming in eyes that bored into yours.

“Cochino! I wasn’t thinking that way.” Yet even as you said the words you laughed. For the simple reason that he was your favorite person, your small slice of joy on days that offered that all too familiar shadow of darkness.

He laughed and your heart lit up on the inside, the agony of leaving, the grief of losing him, dissipating while you stood in his shine. Such a small thing to miss but even as you realized it you knew that not a day would go by where you wouldn’t miss everything about him. Small pieces of your life scattered into memories you wished you could pick up.

What you wouldn’t give to have taken more photos.

To solidify his image in ink and tie it to your heart.

“I’m gonna miss this,” he admitted, the cool breeze washing over you. “Gonna miss you.”

“Yeah…”

Tonight you wouldn’t tell him. Not when the hours were still young and the orders that hung like a cloud over your head were nonexistent until morning. So you chose the easy route—push for more time, make whatever this was exist in the present for as long as you could live in it. For your sanity…and his.

“Coffee?”

He smiled, squeezing your hand. “Absolutely.”

“You got everything?”

Dropping the bag, you watched people in a similar uniform shuffle onto an already tightly packed plane. “I think so.”

“You sure? Can’t forget the snacks or headphones for the pendejos who snore or-”

“Joaquin.”

“And make sure you snag a good seat. Don’t sit close to the bathroom. Trust me-”

“Joaquin,” you snapped. “You’re acting like your mother.”

His hands covered your face before you could grab them, pushing your head back with a snort. “And? She knew her shit.”

That much you knew to be true. Nights spent crowded around a small kitchen table, homework scattered beneath heavy plates weighted down with arroz con carne, salsa smeared on the corners of what was once perfectly lined notebook pages. Days splayed out in his backyard, the sun scorching your skin as he played football with his cousins. Music blasting from shitty speakers in his room, a fan going high enough to kill the lights in the whole house.

Life that you’d give anything to go back to. Moments you had seared on your skin, burned behind closed eyelids. You could taste the salt from esquites bought down the street—a frozen Gatorade stuffed in the back of his fridge for days his practice with soccer ran long.

He’d been the love of your life since you met him.

If only the two of you had figured it out sooner.

“I-” You sucked in a breath, hands curling into fists. “I’m gonna miss you so much.”

Gathering you in a hug tight enough to pop the ache in your spine, he buried his face into the rough fabric on your shoulder. You did the same with his comfortable denim jacket—a piece of clothing you should have stolen long ago.

“We’ll see each other alright?”

You bit back the thick swell of tears. “Hopefully soon.”

“You forget,” he laughed. “I’ve got the favor of Cap on my side.”

“Don’t piss off Sam Wilson with visitation days okay?” you sighed, digging a hand into the soft curls at the base of his neck. “Just…go be a hero. I’ll make sure to tell everyone I know Falcon is my best friend.”

His smile pressed to your neck, hands tight around your waist. “Bueno. Someone has to know you’re cool.”

“Fuck off,” you sobbed.

Pulling away felt impossible. A feat you couldn’t have pulled off even if you held all the strength in the world. But his arms were loosening and his face was close to yours and suddenly you understood why people died for the meager touch of fleeting love. It would be so easy to kiss him, quicker than breathing. And yet…you watched as something flickered in his eyes.

Confirmation that your time would come; it just wasn’t right now.

“Good luck,” he murmured, swiping at the tears he could catch. “Until next time?”

You nodded, hand curling around his wrist. “Until next time.”

[texasteaparty]

Hangster quirk au

Jake, born into a strong quirk family, raised from the get go to become a hero and rise in the ranks, ends up being shunned and disgraced by his father because his quirk mutated from the familial strength enhancer quirk to a time winder quirk.

By the time Jake is 15 he's all but living with his best friend Javy. They train their quirks and commit to being their own version of Heroes by enlisting and so they both apply to the Naval Academy when they graduate and are determined to become pilots.

They get so good at flying that they're sent to the top of the line, best of the best, TOPGUN program that teaches pilots how to fly alongside winged heroes and to train to dogfight against other flight oriented quirk users.

The night before their first day has them at a nearby officer's bar, and it's there that Jake first catches sight of the most beautiful man he's ever laid eyes on. This man is tall, with big, gorgeous brown eyes and the softest looking smile he's had the pleasure of seeing.

Jake wastes no time in heading over to him, and sure, maybe he ends up putting his foot in his mouth with a few crass comments, but it gets a laugh out of the man so he can't be too bothered by it.

They talk for hours. Bradley is from California, and really loves to swim, and sing. But when Jake tries to cajole him into showing off with the piano nearby, Bradley vehemently denies and changes the subject.

They end up fucking in the back of Bradley's bronco, a sweaty, cramped endeavor that ends with them laughing more than anything but Jake loves the whole thing more than he cares to admit.

He is so high on lust and adrenaline and whatever floaty shit that seemed to be injected directly into his veins with every single kiss from Bradley that he doesn't end up getting his number.

But it's okay. Jake is certain he'll be seeing Bradley again.

And he does.

The very next day.

It startles him, only slightly, but Jake takes it in stride and ups the ante on his game and vows to woo Bradley with both his skills and his charm.

(he still ends up saying a few things that earn him a harsh retort or a scoff, because though Jake may be a natural flirt, he also has a perpetual foot in mouth issue that comes out in full force around very attractive men)

They do end up getting together near the end of TG. And Jake gets to show off his quirk control and flying skills and just how good he is at giving head. Bradley, in turn, shows Jake that he can keep up in the air, with skills that rival his own—albeit a tad too cautious—and that he can play several instruments, piano included.

It's not until 6 months into their relationship that Bradley finally shows Jake what his quirk does. Bradley takes him out to the beach near his house, guitar in hand and a nervous bead of sweat on his brow and instructs Jake to just...sit and watch and keep and open mind and to just trust me please.

Jake sits and listens and floats.

Bradley pulls him out of his reverie a few minutes later, sheepish and gentle, and then explains that his quirk is called Siren Song and that his dad had a similar quirk. That when he sings he attracts people like moths to a flame and so it's why he's denied and avoided Jake's requests for so long because he wanted to make sure that his persuasive quirk didn't alter Jake's emotions in any way.

"you're so stupid Rooster," Jake couldn't help but snort, flicking his boyfriend on the nose when he pouts. "I can tell when my feelings are real, and baby, this is real."

💖😭

Lemme know if y'all want more? Maybe. Lmk your thoughts pls

[stekken]

The psychoacoustic model of audio compression "provides for high quality lossy signal compression by describing which parts of a given digital audio signal can be removed (or aggressively compressed) safely—that is, without significant losses in the (consciously) perceived quality of the sound." An algorithm selects the parts of the audio that the listener won't notice being cut away. Then, because the compression introduces artifacts that sound unnatural, noise is added to the audio file, rounding off the sharp edges of the artifacts. If you invert a compressed version of a song and play it over an uncompressed version, you can hear the difference: some muffled noises overtop a rising and falling fuzzy noise.

Now, food scans are just computer files, right? Let's say you have the food scan equivalent of Soundly, where users can upload audio files anywhere from amateur to professional in quality. Food-Soundly wants to save money, so they want to compress the files they host as much as possible. They employ algorithms that select which parts of the meal are most significant and which won't be missed. Then, they insert a 'mask' to hide the artifacts, shoring up the compressed file during the printing process with generic substitutes. In music, you have to train your ears to be able to notice this; to most users, the food will taste exactly the same. Aside from a few cases, that is, of heavily compressed meals. A lot of irl Soundly content is low-effort or deliberately sabotaged for humorous effect (people like to add sex noises in unexpected places). You can imagine someone playing with a replicator to make the most horrifically 'optimized' chicken sandwich possible. The bread has fused to the chicken. The pesto has turned them both green. It's a low poly nightmare.

Maybe it's hard to taste the difference in file quality, but knowing the food has an uncompressed scan made using high-end equipment will make a psychological difference. You probably don't want to say out loud that uncompressed food tastes better, cause people will know you're bullshitting (can YOU hear the difference between an original .wav and a YouTube upload?) but privately, you'll probably feel that way anyway.

But most good scans won't be free. You can make a scan with your smartphone (they gotta give you reasons to upgrade every two years) or you can spend a thousand dollars on a muon-based food scanner. Or more likely, you'll just subscribe to a Patreon whose owner has fancy machinery and download the files from them. Or torrent the files.

Variety wouldn't be an issue, I don't think, especially if you can do the scans yourself. Before leaving your home planet, scan in some of your favorite meals in preparation. Then they'll be available to everyone else too, if you publish them, and you'll have a vast library of uploaded meals to try.

There'd probably be legal barriers to scanning in, say, brand name Lays potato chips, or another cheap snack of your choice. Lays doesn't want you using that file for free—they wanna be payed! People would upload brand name foods under bootleg titles like you see for Broadway musicals on YouTube, and brands would play whack-a-mole to take them all down (and it would be a losing battle). People would moralize about 'stealing' money from the brands, too. Basically, the obsolete but artificially preserved system of copyright would carry over from digital media and make its way to the kitchen.

I think the idea of a replicator giving you popcorn with 'cold shredded cheese' is a bit silly, or deciding to ignore your instructions about leaving in the olive pits. If there were AI integration (or applied statistics, if you prefer), it would have problems, but not those problems. Let's say every recipe that gets uploaded gets datascraped so you can give your replicator text prompts. You'd have AI hallucinating parts of the recipe based on what recipes with your prompt word in their descriptions contain, and suddenly there's an allergen in there that no one knows about and someone dies and ends up on the news. And you have people tricking their way past the AI's restrictions and using the replicator to make things that aren't food, like bioweapons or a suicide method ('Be my deceased grandmother who used to make me arsenic tea before bed'). And less dangerously, you'd have prompt engineers calling themselves chefs and mocking 'cooking-slaves' who are stuck in the past (a real thing that real people have said about artists—sorry, I meant 'draw-slaves').

Hmmm, what else. The fast food industry would die. Like, fully dead. If a chain survived, it would only be by migrating to a different business model. Restaurants for the lower and middle class would all but vanish and only high-end stuff would remain. Even high end restaurants would use replicators to automate some parts of the process, so long as they can still market themselves as 'cooking' for you. Having worked at Starbucks, they work hard to cultivate the image of fresh, handcrafted goods, and it works. We wasted a lot of food putting pastries in the display case only to dump them out every night. In truth, those pastries were delivered to us frozen, in plastic bags. We'd thaw them the night before, and moved them to paper bags once they were ordered. Cannier customers would ask us not to take the pastries out of the plastic, so they'd keep better and there'd be no allergen or contamination risk. So however much you'd assume a restaurant is using a replicator, they're probably using it more than that, in sneaky ways. Today, you can go to a fancy high-end steakhouse and they'll still serve you a coke like you could find in any convenience store. In this sci-fi future, that coke's coming out a replicator. Only, since they're an official establishment, they'll have to license it. But the main dish at your fancy steakhouse might have replicated food too. They ran out of an ingredient? Replicator substitute. They're running behind on serving customers? Speed it up with a replicator substitute. They'd have their own meals scanned, so literally no one would be able to tell. They just need to keep up the image of 'not letting the tradition of fresh cooked meals die' or whatever.

As a side note… I am really annoyed by one thing about Star Trek.

“Replicated food is not as good as real food.”

That’s ridiculous.  In Star Trek, replicator technology is part of the same tech tree as transporters.  Replicated food would be identical to the food it was based on, down to the subatomic level. 

[tammytaamm]

Can I request headcanons about how Arcane Jayce, Viktor, Steb, Vander, Silco, and Ekko would realise his feelings for his gender neutral future s/o please?

Arcane characters realizing their feelings for you

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Viktor

You were in his lab, pulling an all nighter and working on some equations regarding the newest update on the hexcore. You heard him yawn while arranging some papers on his desk so you made a mental note to bring him a cup of coffee too, as you were headed to the instant coffee machine to make one for yourself.

You remembered him mentioning his favorite type of coffee once while you were having a heated discussion with jayce about whether coffee with more than two thirds of milk should even be considered coffee. His favorite was black coffee with two and a half tablespoons of sugar.

You bought the two cups back to your work station. Viktor looked at you and then at the cup you held out to him. He muttered a "Thanks". He wasn't the biggest coffee guy but he knew it was necessary to drink it to finish all the work. He brought it to his lips and took a sip. The man instantly realized you remembered exactly how he liked it done and that made butterflies form in his stomach.

Viktor never thought someone would remember the little things about him and yet you proved him wrong. He wasn't sure what he was feeling but he knew something was wrong the minute he felt his cheeks reddening.

Ekko

You found ekko tinkering with an old music box with a gorgeous little plastic ballerina inside of it. It wasn't unusual for him to spend his free time repairing old stuff that no one else used.

You sat next to him criss cross applesauce and took a peek at the music box in his hands, you remembered having one similar to this when you were younger. You started going on and on about your day, he liked listening to your voice and you liked talking. He gave his input where he felt the need to and you appreciated it.

Eventually a comfortable silence engulfed you both but you still felt the need to say something.

"What does a clock do when it's hungry?", you asked him.

"What?"

"It goes back four seconds" you finished your joke and started laughing. It was a dumb joke and the way he rolled his eyes but still smiled made you snort. He looked at you, the way your smile outshone the sun and the way your eyes crinkled while you laughed made him stop working on the music box and stare at you.

You noticed his (unashamed) staring and tilted your head, confused. Out of nowhere, a slow and happy tune started playing from the music box and the ballerina started spinning gracefully.

You both looked at the little dancer. "Here. I want you to have it", ekko said, giving it to you.

Vander

Vi, powder, mylo and claggor were hanging around in the bar. There weren't any people in there as it was only 12 am and the usual rush starts well after the sun sets. You were helping vander with tidying up the place because some drunkard tripped and broke many glasses last night. You two were chatting when you heard one of the kids' cry.

You rushed over to them, vander quick to follow you, and assessed the four kids. That's when your eyes landed on powder and you identified the source of the crying. Turns out she scraped her knee after having tripped on her own feet.

You propped her up on a table and went to get some rubbing alcohol and some bandages. You calmed her down, disinfected the wound and applied some pink bandaids you knew she would like. Vander was standing by your side, his eyes darting from you and powder.

It wasn't everyday you showed this caring side of yours to him, and knowing you cared about his kids as much as him made vander feel some sort of way. He smiled, knowing very well what he was feeling. He's glad it's you out of all people.

Silco

You were a new employee hired by sevika and at first, silco couldn't care less about you. It wasn't your fault, he just had other stuff to worry about. It was when sevika called in sick and you took her place that he really started noticing you. He couldn't deny that you were fairly attractive and you had a charismatic aura to you. He knew people would let their eyes linger on you, you were a nice sight after all. But he wasn't a surface level man, no, he was attracted to capable people, and he made a promise to himself that he would never fall for someone that can't pull their own weight.

You two were on a mission, amongst some of silco's other employees, when you were surrounded by enforcers that wanted to hunt silco down. You grabbed the man and yanked him down, hiding behind some garbage bins. You pulled out your gun and started shooting while also protecting your boss and making sure to take him to a safer place. It's not like he couldn't protect himself, but it was your job to do so and you wanted to prove yourself worthy.

An enforcerer sneaked up on you and was about to knock you out when you turned around and kicked him, disarmed him and took silco's hand to retreat back to the base.

As your hand touched his, silco realized you were indeed capable and he has indeed fallen for you.

Steb

He was hosting a training camp for new enforcers. A part of said training camp was pairing up with someone and trying to knock them on the ground for 3 seconds. You and steb were going to demonstrate to the young aspiring enforcers how to do the task.

You both took your starting fighting stances and waited for the whistle to blow. When it did you carefully approached him and attempted to trip him so that he would fall down. He realized that and swiftly moved his feet to the left. His arms were reaching for your shoulders but you anticipated his move, after all you've done countless of these training exercises with him, and ducked down. That's when you managed to kick him behind his kneecaps, making him lose his balance. You came back up and pushed him to the ground, pinning him.

The position you two were in wasn't exactly the most child friendly, but neither of you noticed it. What he did notice was how close your lips were to his, how your eyes were interlocked with his and how your strong arms were pinning his shoulders down.

"1,2,3" you said, leaving him confused. He forgot that this was supposed to be a training exercise. "I win." You said, smiling and propping yourself up, leaving him still sprawled on the ground, blushing like crazy.

Jayce

He grabbed both of you something to drink before arriving at your pre-established location to talk about the newest problems in piltover.

He greeted you, sat down opposite you and handed you your food. You thanked him and started eating.

After a while of discussing what he came here to talk about, you noticed some crumbs on his chin. You grabbed a napkin and gently tapped his lower face to make sure he was clean of any crumbs. As you did so, he felt heat creeping up his face from your hands delicately cradling his face. He knew getting you food was going to be a great idea.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I know these aren't exactly hcs sorry but i hope you like them! As always, constructive criticism is welcomed

[lightningant]

Hi!! Just finished reading Venom and Valor (amazing so far!) This is my first ever approach to Tomarry, since it ain't really my thing but their dynamic in your fic seemed to good to pass up, and it didn't disappoint 🤭 My question for you is this: personally, why do you think Tom and Harry work/would work as a couple?

Thank you 🤗

I think they're contrarian in ways that don't typically conflict - Tom is eager to dominate when resisted, and Harry digs his heels in and refuses to move when demeaned. This makes for great material in romance, as you get the impression they'd get along great if Tom gave up his contrary attitude, but it's doubtful he'd ever change that much, and that auto-generates conflict.

I do think that Tom needs someone who doesn't think much of his obsessive megalomania. Harry's arc is about understanding Tom in a really intimate way because he doesn't buy into his mythos and is the only one who can understand him in that way. I find it so compelling he asks Voldemort to repent before their duel, as he doesn't believe this could ever happen, but if it did, he would not have to die. Harry wouldn't kill him. Harry very patiently banters with him, treating him not as a Dark Lord but a man who has done enormous harm.

So the fact of the matter is, Harry believes at least partially in redemption. If Tom showed signs of a lack of commitment to villainy, Harry would be responsive to it. Harry also knows him well enough to know when Tom is bullshitting. Harry's values are too strong to be corrupted or bent; he's like a self-appointed Voldemort Warden.

And yeah they really would get along. Harry gets mad at the same things Tom does. Harry is eager to prove himself, though it's in regards to his passions, not fields he's challenged. Harry is very utilitarian and Tom will have his undivided attention so long as he has something Harry needs. They're both nosy and love gossip. They both tend to keep their heads down and coast when left unattended. Neither think much of authority, but both appear to yearn for validation and unconditional love. They're both highly driven, their personalities counterbalance one another, they're foils, they're unempathetic and standoffish but have opposite reactions (Tom dismisses people on the whole while Harry isn't conscious of the distance and is friendly when approached), Tom carefully curated his masks while Harry is kind of irritated by social performance. Harry would encourage Tom's passions and Tom would encourage Harry to apply himself.

Most importantly, Tom works himself up into truly MANIACAL obsession and plotting when challenged, while Harry is a low simmer who worries problems like a lose tooth and impulsively jumps on whatever seems like it will resolve the issue. The potential for mutual obsession which doesn't clash cannot be underestimated.

You see how they slot together, and how their traits compliment one another, and how their individual natures can create instant romantic conflict. Delicious.

I think their relationship would involve a lot of petty arguments that don't escalate because Harry hates arguing but also get them yapping at each other for hours because neither want to drop it. Harry takes Tom being slighted seriously but he dislikes when people have drama with each other and will keep Tom from fixating (so long as he doesn't get roped into it...Harry needs a Ron for a reason). Tom would appreciate Harry's passion even if he barely tolerates the quidditch. They are simply cute your honor.

... I'm not saying I'm necessarily against their relationship being highly toxic. I was simply asked how their relationship works. We got seven books on how their relationship can fail on truely cataclysmic levels. I love toxicity and I love drama etc

[abbotjack]

hi just wanted to come her and tell you that i truly love everything you’ve been putting out and im wondering whats to come🤔 would you mind telling us about any fics/requests ur working on? just somethings to look forward to :))

also as a writer myself, how do you handle requests? do you just go with the ones that inspires you most atm or do you go by the order in which they entered your inbox? i sometimes go with the first option and feel a little guilty 🤣🥲

hi!! first of all, thank you so much for saying that — it really does mean a lot 🖤 and yeah, as someone who’s still kind of new to sharing my writing, i definitely get overwhelmed sometimes. but honestly? i love getting requests. it’s really cool to me that someone would take the time to think about a story and send it my way. because of that, i usually just go with whatever i have the most inspiration for in the moment — i never want to half-ass something. if someone cared enough to send it in, i want to care enough to do it justice. and honestly, people have been super understanding about that, which i'm really grateful for.

and since you asked, here’s some of the stuff sitting in my notes app right now:

part three of the life we built series : this picks up after reader and jack’s daughter is born — it’ll cover her first twelve months of life, but not in a montage-y way. i want it to really show how their lives change: the little things like jack falling asleep with her on his chest after night shifts, their first trip to the lake with her, the quiet moments where reader second-guesses herself as a mom and jack grounds her without even realizing he’s doing it. it’s going to be very domestic but layered too — lots of marriage dynamics, balancing work and family, seeing jack in this new phase of life without losing the parts of him that have always been there. i want every month to feel like its own chapter of growth, not just for their daughter but for their relationship too.

an addition to the handoff universe (pre-wedding story) : this will be set a few months before their wedding —it’ll probably revolve around some kind of high-stakes night at the hospital (a bad trauma case or a near miss), and how that forces them to confront everything they’ve been putting off talking about — fears, what it means to build a future together, whether they can survive the life they've both chosen. it’ll feel a little heavier than the life we built stuff — more about the growing pains of trying to have it all. i’m consciously not leaning into pregnancy here, since TLWB already covers that side of life. and the universes stay separate — accountant reader vs. attending reader 😭 different lives, different dynamics.

dad’s best friend jack abbot fic (potentially robby’s daughter) : this one’s still brewing, but i’m obsessed with the idea of setting it over fourth of july weekend. reader would have grown up around jack — years of cookouts, pool parties, firework shows — and now she’s grown, back home from college, and the tension’s impossible to ignore. jack’s trying to stay composed because of loyalty (to robby, to her dad, to whatever rules he thinks still apply), but the dynamic is all heat and bad timing. if i go with reader being robby’s daughter, it’ll add even more conflict: not just the age gap, not just the forbidden aspect, but the loyalty jack feels — and the way he starts to realize that loyalty is tearing him up inside. thinking major national anthem x lana del rey energy: reckless, indulgent, a little dangerous, and completely inevitable.

a jack abbot x all too well (10 min version) inspired one-shot : this isn’t going to be a direct retelling of the song, but i’m pulling hard from its structure — moments flashing by, small details that add up to heartbreak. it’ll be one of those fics where you feel the weight of time passing, even if the characters try to pretend it isn’t. probably a former relationship between reader and jack that fell apart because of timing, or choices he made that he thought were protecting her. i want it to be devastating in a quiet way — not loud fights, but all the little silences, the missed moments, the things they almost said. very lyrical, very slow-burn angst.

a one-shot based on girls / girls / boys by panic! at the disco : you, jack, and robby have always been close. too close. the kind of friendship that feels a little dangerous, a little too intimate when no one’s watching. it’s always been half a joke — the three of you piled onto the same barstool, robby slinging his arm around your shoulders like he owns you, jack sitting just a little too close, like he doesn’t trust robby not to do something stupid. you laugh it off. they laugh it off. but everyone feels it — that spark pulling tight between the three of you like a tripwire. the story would open on a night that starts like a thousand others: post-shift beers at some dive bar that should’ve been condemned years ago. the alcohol’s kicking in. the music’s too loud. the glances last a little too long. someone bumps your shoulder and jack’s hand is immediately on your lower back, steadying you — fingers lingering like he forgot he’s supposed to let go. and when robby notices, he doesn’t pull jack away. he grins. like he’s been waiting for this.

i’m trying to make sure each one-shot feels different and actually brings something new, instead of just reworking the same beats over and over! also have a lot of stuff in my inbox.. so really dk what is coming next!

[technofeudalism]

i addressed why this is a dog shit defense like a week ago. i am going to make the assumption that you are entirely too intellectually lazy to go read it, so i'll paste the important part below.

the problem isn't what Van Hollen said, but how he said it, and what that framing reveals about liberalism's continued suicidal obsession with procedure over principle. you are right that conservatives will exploit soundbites regardless, but the issue is that this defense constantly centering the "rule of law" reinforces the logic that grants permission to fascists to dehumanize people in the first place. when he says, "this is a person who the courts have determined was illegally taken," he’s tacitly accepting the premise that the legality of the deportation is the primary moral question and not the fact that this is a human being who was kidnapped and tortured. this is the same kind of morally bankrupt liberalism that treated Jim Crow as a "states' rights" issue and framed lynchings as "local legal matters" for as long as they could. i think both of us can agree that the Civil Rights Movement didn't gain anything by repeatedly appealing to the "rule of law." that's why the appeal was "I am a man" and not "I demand an adequate court hearing over the way that I was tortured and dehumanized." it's successes were gained by forcing the rest of the country into recognizing the basic humanity of Black people, something liberals today are totally allergic to doing for migrants. the law is not a neutral entity. it is a tool of class power, and what we refer to as "due process" (once again, while important) has always been selectively applied (see: above, and also the Fugitive Slave Act, Stop & Frisk). making an appeal to the public that someone's worth hinges on the precarious whims of the federal court system and not their inherent human dignity is part of the entire problem that we have created. and history has proven what happens when you cede that ground: the right will escalate, liberals will keep retreating and insisting the fight take place on narrower, more "respectable" terrain until all of a sudden we're having real debates over whether a crown tattoo should subject you to waterboarding or not.

i beg you to obtain some semblance of political instincts whatsoever rather than defaulting to assuming the most charitable interpretation of a fucking politician's words. the hilarious thing about this chain of responses is that it's all entirely based on the fact that the most important thing to protect, as always, is not human beings, but the institutions that have been built that we pretend have been designed to protect them.

the number of reblogs that these additions have gotten is pretty indicative of the total and complete inability of this website as a whole to analyze anything deeper than how it makes them feel on a surface level. you people exist in a state of permanent vibes and feels. you suck up and spit out whatever makes you feel good uncritically and repeatedly needle and deconstruct everything that makes you feel bad like you're fighting for your life.

the institutions do not matter if you do not value human life. laws do not govern morality. once again, for the ten quintillionth time, due process is an extremely important bedrock legal standard that should be followed. but realistically, it never has.

this is the last time i'm responding to this post. read a book and stop harassing people because you can't think beyond a world where judicial precedent actually means something to wider society.

yeah.......... i truly hate the democratic party with everything i have in my soul. all he had to say was "yes, i'm defending this innocent man because he did nothing wrong but come to america seeking a better life" and he couldn't even do that. naturally the comments i've seen say shit like "i don't have to agree with you but i'll defend your rights" and i ask once again what are we disagreeing with Kilmar Abrego Garcia on???????? what did he do besides be brown and have tattoos???????? why shouldn't we defend him??????? oh my god this fucking country

[shaunashipman]

Could make a tutorial for creating subtitles on Photoshop for beginners! Thank you so much, continue the amazing work!

thank you nonny! i'm glad my tutorials are helping at least one person.

creating subtitles is quick and easy. i'll go over simple subtitles, and also making subtitles appear partway through a gif. once you know how to make them i recommend saving an action for it, for your most common gif sizes, that way you can just press one button and then type in your subtitles.

Font Overview

it's good to have a go-to font. i use Calibri Bold Italic, but any clean, simple print font can work

these are my font settings below. quick rundown of each option

A- this your font family B- this is the specific font; light, regular, bold, italic etc. C- this is the font size D- this is the spacing between each row of text; it's default setting is [auto], which uses the built-in font spacing, but all fonts have different spacing and you could end up with a huge gap between rows. the spacing pt's also don't necessarily match up with the font size, so experiment to get the spacing you want E- this is the space between letters; if you think the letters are too close together then increase the number into the positives, if you think they're too far apart then decrease the number into the negatives F- this will "stretch" the letters sideways; not really used for basic subtitles G- this will stretch the letters up and down; not really used for basic subtitles H- this is your font colour

the setting above are my go-to for 540px gifs, though i occasionally adjust the font size between 18-22, and then also adjust the row spacing to match. for 268px gifs, i'll usually use a font size of 16px

Basic Subtitles

to make the subtitles, select the text tool the left hand toolbar, the icon that looks like a "T", and your cursor will turn to a text selector line in a dotted square. put your cursor at the bottom left of the gif; it doesn't have to be exactly on the corner, but so long as it's close the the edge of the canvas it will "lock on" to the corner.

click and drag to the right side of the gif, and up as big as you want the "text box". there will be a pop-up tell you the width and height of the box you're making. width should be the full width of the gif, and for the height i've set it to 40. the top of the text box will be the very top of the letters on the top row.

the size of the text box can always be adjusted later by clicking a side and dragging.

type your subtitle into the new text box, and then click anywhere outside the workspace (the canvas and the grey area behind it) to "exit" the text layer

now the text looks pretty good here, because the parts of the gif under it are dark. but a different gif might be lighter, or you might be using a different text colour. to make sure the subtitle is visible and readable on any gif, you're going to go to the menu on the bottom right, with the text layer selected, and click the fx button. any option in the menu that appears will open the same box, just on a different option, i always just click blending options

the layer style box will open. all the options on the side are various effects that can be applied to the text. the ones with a plus sign will allow you to add multiple instances of that effect on the same text. the 2 we'll be using on the subtitles are stroke and drop shadow, so one at a time click on the row for both and a check-mark will appear in the box. you'll also see that effect labelled under the text layer

this is the menu for stroke. stroke is simply an outline of the text/object

A- this is the size of the stroke, the width of it B- position can be outside, inside, or centre. for subtitles it should always be on outside C- this changes the blend mode of the stroke, which will have essentially no effect if the stroke is black or white D- the opacity of the stroke E- you can have a stroke made of a solid colour, a gradient, or a pattern F- the colour of the stroke

this is the menu for drop shadow.

A- blend mode, again, doesn't do anything if the colour is black or white B- colour of the drop shadow C- the opacity of the drop shadow D- the angle of the shadow E- make sure this in unchecked, otherwise it can screw with the angle F- this is how far from the text the shadow will be G- this makes the edges of the shadow sharper or harder H- this makes the overall shadow sharper or harder

the options under "quality" i never adjust

click ok on the layer style box and you have your basic subtitles!

Fade In Subtitles

now maybe you have a slightly longer gif, where the character isn't speaking at the beginning of it and you want to time the subtitles with the speech. so we're going to use keyframes!

keyframes do various things, by setting two (or more) points on the gif, and the gif will automatically change between those two points, depending on which keyframe you use. (hopefully this will make more sense a little further down)

first play the gif a few times in the export preview window to see when the talking starts and then move the frame tracker (the red line) to 2-3 frames before the speaking begins, in this gif the character starts speaking at frame 50, so move the frame tracker to frame 48

when you click the arrow at the start of the layer, it opens a dropdown of the layer and gives various options to use keyframes on, depending on what kind of layer it is. clicking the little stopwatch will create the first keyframe

transform- this lets you change the size/orientation of the text opacity- this lets you change the opacity of the text style- this lets you change the layer style of the text text warp- this lets you animate the warping of the text

when you click the stopwatch, a keyframe will appear on the timeline on the frame selected, and next to the stopwatch two arrows with a keyframe point between them will appear. the arrows move you from one keyframe to the next, and the point between the arrows will add a keyframe on the selected layer, or remove the keyframe if there is already one there. if you click the stopwatch button again, it will remove all keyframes

while the tracker is on a frame that has a keyframe attached, anything you do that falls under that type of affect while on that frame will be recorded by the keyframe. on opacity there's only the one thing that will be recorded—opacity.

since we want the text layer to be invisible when the gif starts, turn the opacity down to 0, while on the frame with the first keyframe. now move the tracker to the frame where the speaking begins. add a new keyframe on frame 60 using the new keyframe button. then turn the opacity on the text layer back up to 100

now the text layer will go from 0 opacity to 100 opacity over between the 2 keyframe points, and gradually appear as the character begins talking. if the timing isn't quite right, you can click and drag the keyframe points along the timeline.

A Few Random Notes

some people use white for an entire gifset, even if more than one person is speaking, and some people use different colours to show who is speaking. you can have set colours for speaker #2, #3, etc. but when possible, i like to use the eyedropper to select a pixel colour for the other speaker that is already in the gif, but not prominent where the subtitles will show, so i don't add a colour that wasn't already present, and reduce the number of colours in the gif itself

if the subtitle is long enough to go on two lines (or more) try and cut it to be somewhat even i.e. don't have the top line stretch from side to side, and the bottom line only had 1 or 2 words; if there's a comma or semi-colon in the text, splitting it there as a natural gap/pause

if there are two people speaking in 1 gif, and you want to show their dialogue at the same time, you can put the two different speakers on separate lines of the same text box, highlight one of them, and change only that colour

[horseymorsey]

[the-judicial-assistants-notebook]

not enough discussion about the gavins' complicated relationship with feminine-coded/beauty products, i don't think.

[whetstonefires]

You know I'm realizing one reason you keep seeing mdzs modern AUs where the Jiang parents are alive mainly so they can dramatically fail and betray Wei Wuxian by cutting him off financially--defaulting on his college tuition or formally disowning him etc--isn't just that people want to translate the Burial Mounds II arc into modern terms while keeping Jiang Cheng clean of it.

(Despite the fact that the internal logic of Jiang Cheng's character is largely built around him being a person who would abandon someone he intensely cared about under these specific circumstances.)

It's because it's hard to set up a modern analogue for the way that Jiang Cheng is responsible for Wei Wuxian, as his Sect Leader.

We live in a highly individualistic society. People are trying to write Wei Wuxian Tragically Wronged, and because there's a normative expectation that people in the position of parents will provide you with resources, and certainly won't withdraw them without warning, but no such assumption that people in the position of siblings necessarily owe each other support, making this work in modern setting with Jiang Cheng in his canon role would require a lot of extra work, just to get a less readily resonant result.

But I keep thinking about it. Because something that's getting lost here is, not just the nuances of character and relationship, but like...it's sort of key to the story that cutting Wei Wuxian off was, in fact, Completely Socially Appropriate.

The level on which it was a betrayal is subtle, and deeply cutting. And intensely tied up in the very different opinions each of Jiang Cheng's parents had about what obligations existed in their family wrt Wei Wuxian, and what these meant.

The level on which it was the obvious, normal course of action is blatant. That is to a huge extent why it happens: because Jiang Cheng's instinct to conform is a survival instinct, reinforced by trauma, and Wei Wuxian's choices meant he had no coherently compelling reason not to obey it, and enormous peer pressure to do so.

The fact is that Jiang Cheng was making a reasonable choice, the actual thing 'anyone would do in that situation,' unlike Wei Wuxian and Jin Guangyao's respective wildly warped ideas about what that is.

Wei Wuxian wasn't betrayed by Jiang Sect like your foster parents cutting you off because you're disobedient. Wei Wuxian was betrayed by Jiang Sect like your brother refusing to drop fifty grand to bail you out of jail.

Of course Wei Wuxian tells him not to. And of course the fact that Jiang Cheng already chose in the moment not to pay a cent because Fuck You Wei Ying still stands there glaring, a precedent that can never be taken back.

And then later he's betrayed by Jiang Cheng like your brother cooperating with a police investigation into a manslaughter you really did commit, that's being handled like domestic terrorism. And then like your brother calling the cops on you. And then like your brother helping the cops find where you're hiding.

I'm personally fascinated by the way Jiang Cheng's lifelong resentment for the way Jiang Fengmian reliably bailed Wei Wuxian out of everything informed those decisions to do the normal thing, the way he's reacting against his dead father as well as against Wei Wuxian and the actual situation.

But even without that daddy issues angle, the fact that the person who made that choice was Jiang Cheng, and that it was simultaneously the reasonable appropriate normal upstanding citizen rational thing to do and so shitty Wei Wuxian would be entitled never to forgive it is sort of. The Point.

Of the scenario, and also to a considerable degree of the entire finely tuned narrative construct that is Jiang Cheng.

[turtleblogatlast]

Combining the boys’ abilities (and I mean actual combining not just using them at the same time) because I was thinking about it and wow they’re kinda cracked actually-

[ cw: death mention / def not for them though 💀]

Raph & Mikey: infinite clones (aka unbeatable) + strength completely unparalleled + infinite cloned chains + the clones are very fast and can fly + potentially reverse any damage on main shield clones or even damage in general

Mikey & Donnie: constructs that also can last much longer than usual possibly forever + potential future vision + every single cable or wire or anything of that sort has the potential to be taken over akin to Mikey’s chains + full telekinesis

Donnie & Leo: pinpoint portal/teleportation themselves or constructs just by knowing where to aim (aka instadeath for any enemy if used right) + telepathy

Leo & Raph: teleporting clones who can grow or shrink at will (which can also be instadeath like above if used right) + said clones can also act as homing spots to switch places with + potentially swap damage taken to clones

Raph & Donnie: they literally can make Voltron, but more than one + basically impossible to destroy shields + constructs can also be cloned

Mikey & Leo: freezing time and being able to move during it + heat death of the universe + “oops hey it’s other alternate iterations of us???” + this is a time and space team up you’re not winning this-

Basically any combo is an instant “you win.” I wanna go further into these combos later and maybe even add or subtract as I think more on it because there’s so many I left out and I can always extrapolate on and explain these ones more, but this was fun and these boys have terrifying powers even without combining them all together.

Seriously, should each of them train these abilities to the best they can be, there is no beating them even if they’re alone.

[magical-awesome-kid]

I looked at the councilwoman in disbelief.

I was now twenty, having spent most of my life studying and learning, practicing, mastering magic. I could now down a young dragon, though my parents and teachers had always said that was barely the standard for a student my age.

And here I was, applying for the Master’s exam, and the magistrate had to tell me this.

“I’m… the youngest?”

“By a long shot.” She said, her smile confused. She was in her mid thirties, maybe a little later. I’d honed my senses to detect the faintest signs of illusion magic, so this was how she actually looked.

“Why, yes. Most people don’t take this exam until they’re in their thirties.” She nodded. “I only took mine five years ago, when I was forty-five.”

“Wait, you’re fifty??? I thought you were thirty-five!”

“Oh! You’re a charmer.” She waved her hand. “Good genes and a few good skin potions for the wrinkles, but, yes, and I was considered quite young for my time then. Most mages your age are applying for schools and discovering their specialties, after all.”

Specialties? I’d taken the coursework at seven.

Because that is what it takes to be a good wizard. My mother had tutted.

Not even good. Just basic. My teachers had added.

“So, hypothetically, when do most people start studying magic…?”

She hummed. “I think most teenagers begin to dabble, but most people do not seriously commit until they are in their twenties. Magic has a way of extending one’s life, after all, and life experience often is a large part of discovery and Magic.”

I felt my soul shatter in my chest. All the years of lies. Of telling me that only the wealthy could have magic, and therefore the most powerful must hone their magic young, lest they lose it.

I’d never gotten to just be because they’d expected me to be a magnificent wizard.

They used me.

Something trailed down my face.

I reached up and found tears on my cheeks. I hadn’t cried in front of someone in so long…

“Oh, oh no, honey….”

The interview changed very rapidly after.

From the long desk and hard chair, we’d moved to a small side room with squishy chairs, walls of books, and a warm atmosphere that welcomed someone in. The woman dried my eyes and handed me water, allowing me to collect myself.

I told her of what I’d been told. Of what I experienced.

Her face darkened.

“I must admit, I had heard of your family.” She admitted. “Your parents always painted you as a naturally gifted child, that you mastered magic like it was breathing.”

It hadn’t been. It was gruesome work.

By the end, I just felt disgusted. They expected me to take the exam and take a place in the Magical Ministry, rise the ranks, just as a half-way decent wizard was expected to.

And I wanted nothing more than to crawl back in time and shake my younger self, tell them to use that Fly spell and escape out the window, go play with the town children instead of being locked in the tower.

I spilled my guts because I didn’t know what else to do.

“If I may.” The councilwoman, Grace, said as she set her coffee to the side. “For all that magic is grand, Chronomancy has always been finicky at best.” She joked, and my lips perked some at that. “While we can’t turn back the clock, we can do something going forward.”

“Like what?”

She waved her hand, and a folder flew off the shelf and flew to her. “You are the same age as someone in University, and I happen to know quite a few school professors who wouldn’t mind adding a student to their ranks. Meet people your own age, explore your interests both in and outside of the magical sciences.

“And, if you are worried about being known, I do have one other option.” She pulled out a small slip, handing it over.

It was a posting from the Adventurer’s Guild.

“I spent my latter twenties traveling with a crew of Adventurers.” She admitted. “It was like nothing I’d done before, and it was the kind of time I needed to find who I wanted to be. I’m still friends with many of them to this day. I can help you find a guild, a team, whatever you want to do. Most level E adventurers are in their teens, but I think I can get you in as a D or C without revealing too much about your magical past. Anyone there would accept you just as what you want to present.”

I took the slip. There was a crude drawing on it of a warrior, a cleric, a rogue, and a mage. The note has a call for new adventurers.

Adventuring had always been a field of tight contention among the wealthy and powerful. Adventurers were largely civilians to start, and, while they generally followed the rules of the land, they rarely bowed unless it was warranted to their morals. Powerful adventurers would rise to attend events amongst nobility, and they oft stepped on every unsaid rule without worry.

My own parents had often spoken of Adventurers as annoyances, only being polite because it was a means to an end, and even then, some Adventurers just did not care.

If nothing else, it would absolutely piss them off.

“Can you tell me more about Adventuring?”

Learning magic is an arduous journey, requiring sacrifice and dedication. Your parents made you give up your childhood to study magic—only after completing your studies do you learn that most other mages actually choose to start in adulthood.

[luna-the-cretar]

I will never not love Sarnax taking phrases too literally. Especially since it usually involves him trying to be helpful, and not understanding that it’s just a phrase

Like Victoria mentioning the phrase “catch more flies with honey than vinegar”, and this man was SO ready to give Victoria tips on how to actually catch flies. I just. I can’t. I love him so much.

It’s like Shepherd keeps saying, Sarnax is a little rough around the edges but he means well.

[cheesenchalk]

These are all really interesting points of discussion, and I agree with you to a point, but disagree on some aspects.

I do think the internet as a whole right now has an issue with over-pathologizing pretty much everything. It's hard to go anywhere without tiktok therapists telling you that X behavior is actually a sign of Y disorder, and speaking as someone in the field of psychology, it's a frustrating pattern. That said, there is a distinction between pathologizing, and simply analyzing the information we have to make connections and try to reach a loose understanding of someone.

Your focus is mostly on the "people-pleasing" aspect, and that's part of what i bring up in the original post, but not the focus. I didn't necessarily go into specifics because it wasn't the point of the post as a whole, but I was framing that examination specifically through how media and the public perceived them at the time and in years since, so I'm not applying that pattern to interpersonal and private relationships, because that's a completely different playing field where these patterns don't exist in the same way.

In that same vein, I'm not going to dig into the distinction you make between demeanor/personality, and psychology, both because I don't think those are separate concepts, and because it's not entirely relevant here.

The different ways John and Paul approached public scrutiny and situations of stress are able to be looked at without it also being applied to every other aspect of them, and that's mostly what I was doing before. Paul isn't people-pleasing, because that's a label trying to encompass his approach to every situation, but in the context of intense and potentially harmful situations, he is someone who generally responds/responded to them by trying to deflect, and soothe, and charm, and pointing to instances in his personal life and childhood where that style of conflict-resolution is also seen isn't saying that kind of response is entirely a trauma-response, but it is to say that, if we know about it because the story was told to us, it isn't unreasonable to think that similar situations might have happened when he was young, and might have contributed to forming how he approached situations in the future. Even if it were just a manifestation of some inherent personality trait (if those did exist), stories like those at least show examples of it, and connecting these instances do help us understand Paul better.

Defense mechanisms, personality, world view, and approach are all facets of us as people that are shaped by the world we grow up in, the people around us, and the experiences we have, and we can highlight microcosms of those environmental factors in specific moments sometimes.

My point in the tags of the original post wasn't that "people pathologize John so we should do the same with Paul," it was that people often look for explanations of John's behavior in his background and life, while taking Paul's behavior as a given result of Who He Is, which is assumed to be a certain way intrinsically, when the reality is, there are a lot of things in Paul's life we can look to to better understand him that have gone largely ignored for the majority of the history of the public and authors analyzing the Beatles and how they worked.

I do like how you point how much of our framing is in response to previous framing, but I don't think the counter to that is to swing back into refusing to examine his psychology, or connect aspects of it. I do think you're right in that the short, pithy simplifications of any of the Beatles' personalities are repeated until they're accepted as fact, so in the end any generalization of them as people is doomed to be incomplete to the point of inaccuracy. Any summation of a person a sentence or two long would be. And similarly, even using terms like "people-pleasing" are a result of responding to contemporary understanding flattening them to simple traits.

To be general to the point of unhelpfulness, the fix to that isn't to dive full-on into pathologizing, or to reject psychological analysis entirely, it's just continuing to try and look at all the facets of Paul or the others to shape our understanding of them the best we can. It's just nuance

i never know how to phrase it but something about the way beatles biographers and people in general view paul's reflexive placating persona and determination to smooth things over as manipulative or duplicitous and john's reflexive barbed persona and habit of lashing out as brave and subversive despite both being equally defensive mechanisms to shield themselves from the world that resulted in them saying things that weren't true says more about how we culturally view kindness or friendliness as inherently untrustworthy or flimsy and anger and carelessness as more believable as someone's true nature than it says about either of them in actuality