#giffed this too solely for the first clip

[jentlemahae]

MARK LEE / PUZZLE PIECE (230421)

[withoutyouimsaskia]

Sometimes It's Fated (Sandman Short Story Part 2)

Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

​GIF: Originally posted by @harleytudinous

Pairing: Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x AFAB reader

Summary: Reader Self-Insert. After restoring the Dreaming and locating the missing dreams and nightmares, Morpheus turns his attention to finding you, the human he believes fate has chosen for him. (Title inspired by Placebo's "This Picture".)

Warnings: Minors DNI. Dark!Morpheus. Soulmates. Angst. Obsessive and possessive behaviour. Tension. Threat. Dream manipulation. Masturbation. Voyeurism. Plot related cigarette use. Dubious consent.

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: So I know I initially billed this as a two shot but the story has run away with me in the most lovely way. Part 3 will be coming soon. Thank you for all your kind responses to part 1, it honestly means so much to me. Hope you enjoy this one too. All my love, Saskia xx

Sandman Masterlist

---------------------------------------------

The veil of sleep comes down upon your weary body with a feather-light touch, trying to coax your mind back into the world of dreams.

Dreamscapes have been a whole new experience for you in the past month of your life. Before, you would wake with no recollection of what had played out. Not even the slightest inkling. Now, you remember everything.

They are staggering; bursting with details and ideas beyond your most outlandish daytime imaginings. The emotions that are conjured by them, both when asleep and also awake are just as bold.

And even though it's been 23 nights since it started you are still finding them predominantly jarring and disorientating. You are baffled by how other people cope with the sheer vividness. The unpredictability. Maybe they have become desensitised. You can only hope that the same will happen for you in time.

One thing you tell yourself with each sunrise:

Thank goodness they weren't nightmares.

At least, you don't think they are. There's no resemblance between yours and what you have heard others describe over the years, nor to those outlined in a dream decoding book you had checked out of the library last week. There's no obvious threat or fear. No re-living of traumatic events. Just weird subtext.

The first dream found you standing barefoot on a beach. A mirage distorted the particulars of the scene making it impossible to see further than half a meter in front of you. The temperature of the sand under your soles was verging on painful and as such, it forced you to walk into the unknown before you.

A groaning wind started to brew and lifted the sand into sparkling flurries. You shielded your eyes from the abrasive particles.

The sun was at its apex when you heard the ear splitting bangs. Unmistakably gun shots; you didn't last much longer in the dream and woke with a start.

For the next week, your dreams had been like a series of video clips edited into a supercut.

Raven wings. Black cats. Hellfire. Ruby red glow. Sprawling library shelves. Landscapes hewn by earthquake fissures. Hotel corridors. A handsome, blond haired man wearing sunglasses, holding a blood covered knife.

If you didn't know any better, you would begin to suspect that your new box of tea bags had been laced with a psychedelic. Alas, no. Your hypothesis was unequivocally disproved when you friends had been completely unaffected after stopping by for a Sunday afternoon catch up.

This quick fire of snapshots eventually stopped, transforming into lucid long form dreams. You often think back to the first one where it happened.

Standing in the the empty room, and the appearance of the figure dressed in black. The colour that had flashed in their midnight eyes had the quality of liquid silver. Sometimes you wonder if you see the same image in other dreams, standing in amongst a crowd.

From that point on, regardless of what dream you are in, you cannot shake the intuitive prickle down your spine that tells you someone is watching you.

You reason that it is nothing to be concerned about. Humans dream, and you cannot deny that some of them - swimming in a sea of clouds, re-visiting childhood haunts, trying out superpowers - have been quite fun.

You roll over on to your left side and close your eyes.

You dream.

The room you see is expansive in breadth and depth. Impressive windows bring brilliant light into the space which bounces off the ivory stone of the floors and walls. There are statues positioned at equidistant intervals, implying that the chamber is a gallery of sorts.

One effigy, fashioned from bronze, and rich in colour draws your attention. The lines and curves of its form intrigue you, despite not knowing the creature it was portraying.

You are about to move on when the feeling of being watched sparks through your skeleton.

Everything changes.

Clarity gives way to haze. Sun is swapped for moon.

You see a man across the room. He stands with a perfect posture. Graceful, powerful. His elbows are bent, fingers interlaced, palms facing upwards. Sheer black fabric floats around his frame. It moves languidly, giving glimpses of his bare body beneath.

The man's face is imperceptible. The distance between you too great but somehow you know you are the focus of his attention.

His robes fall to the floor with a gossamer sigh. The pale, unmarked skin of his slight form glows beautifully in the moonlight. You look down in embarrassment as arousal flushes through you, and you see that you are suddenly as naked as he is.

You gasp, and snap your gaze back up.

The sight you see is rather unexpected. The man is intimately touching himself.

You feel compelled to mirror him. You immediately reach between your legs. The man groans as you make contact.

All it takes is a little bit of attention on your clit before you are ready to slide two fingers into your core. The noise you make at the feeling of the stretch is salacious. The man echoes you with a sound that is just as dirty.

It spurs you on and you burrow deeper.

You curl your fingers until your legs are weak and quivering. You long to sink to your knees so you can finish in a more comfortable position yet you can't. An invisible force is preventing you.

It keeps you on display.

Just like the statues to your left.

You wonder if it is for the man's benefit.

You try to focus on him but it is impossible to do so through the trembling glaze over your eyes. All you are able to sense from him now is the sound of the rhythmic pump of his palm around his cock and his panting breaths.

Desperate whines escape your lips. You are teetering on the edge of an orgasm but you can't seem to lose your balance and fall into the abyss. The unsteadiness in your legs is too much of a distraction. You rub at your clit again in the hope that it will bring the satisfaction you need.

It does nothing.

You are so frustrated by your body's disobedience that it is almost painful.

"Please. Please. Please," you mutter under your breath.

A voice suddenly speaks next to you ear. A velvet voice with the timbre of a thunder rumble. It pours like a soothing syrup into your brain and commands you to do exactly as it bids.

"Let go."

You climax intensely, crying out in relief, squirting all over your fingers and onto your hand as you legs finally give way.

The fall jolts you back into consciousness and you wake with a barely contained scream of pleasure in your throat and adrenaline lighting up your nervous system.

Daylight is peeking through a little gap in the curtains. You take a deep, grounding breath.

That was obscene.

The context, the actions, the sounds. That sultry voice at the end. From the throbbing in your vulva and the twitching of your legs it seems like you didn't just finish in the dream.

There is really no point in looking it up in the dream decoding book.

You were clearly horny on a subconscious level. Or craving attention, hence the exhibitionist behaviour. The latter is not usually in your nature to seek out but if it is the reason, you might not have to wait long before the desire is fulfilled. There is a work event happening this evening that may require you to accept an award and address the crowd.

You love this time of year where community projects get recognition; a nomination alone is a sure-fire way of garnering publicity which in turn helps the charity's outreach.

But first, a normal day at the office. You throw back the covers and go straight to the bathroom to rinse off the evidence of your wet dream.

---------------------------------------------

Your right hand connects with the metal push plate of the function space's front door. The heels of your boots click and clack as you cross the threshold, moving from floor board to paving slab.

It's fortuitous that you brought a long, thick coat with you this evening for the wind is wintery and unforgiving. You stay close to the wall of the building to try and shelter from it as much as possible.

The pavements are slick with recent precipitation, streetlamps bouncing off of the water with caustic white light.

Then you see him; a figure cut from shadow.

He's breathing in such a laboured way that you wonder if he is sick.

Your phone is still inside the venue, currently being guarded by a colleague along with your bag but it wouldn't take long to retrieve it and call for medical assistance.

"You okay?" Concern colours the simple question.

His reply comes quickly and assertively, "I am well, thank you."

You nod, not entirely convinced for the stranger's response was as stiff as his posture, and reach inside the pocket of your coat for the box of cigarettes and lighter stashed within.

You settle one of the sticks between your lips and use your thumb to bring forth a flame. The crackle of smouldering paper and tobacco perforates the damp air and you take a needy drag. The nicotine taints and tantalises in equal measure, filling you with guilt and relief. You've been trying to give up but the little voice inside your head had won this evening. You close your eyes and focus on the pleasure it brings before flicking some ash into the tray mounted to the wall.

Your attention now back on your surroundings, the stranger steps into the scope of the streetlight. The angles of his cheekbones, jaw and nose are accentuated to an incredible extent in the gleam. His dark hair is being buffeted about the wind, locks of it very close to falling in the blue eyes that are unwaveringly trained on you. He begins to talk again, showcasing his deep baritone.

"I'm afraid I wasn't entirely honest with you just now. It is not how I envisaged our first interaction transpiring. I hope that you can forgive me for my deception."

You laugh nervously and take another quick drag. "It makes no difference if you're honest with me or not. I don't know you."

"You are correct. You don't know me. Not yet -"

"Oh," you cut in quickly. "I'm not looking for a hook up."

While you cannot deny that he is arrestingly beautiful, you are technically working and have never been one for one-night stands.

"You mistake my meaning. I have been searching for you for so long. I oftentimes doubted your existence however I was wrong and I find myself humbled to be in your presence at last."

The grandiose declaration is one of the stranger things you have heard in your life and you used to deal with drunken patrons when you worked at a university bar. Maybe he was intoxicated; it would explain a lot.

"Look, this might work on other people but I just came out here to have a cigarette -"

It is his turn to interrupt you now. "You will have no need of those going forward. Your addiction to them will be replaced by me."

"Excuse me?"

You are trying to sound incredulous, however, inside you are rather frightened by the turn the conversation has taken. His gaze is not helping either.

The crystalline eyes are embodying every part of the descriptor; a hard, chill inducing blue. Ash drops from the smouldering cigarette as a tremble of fear rattles through you. The man sees this and the ice suddenly melts to a warmer hue.

His tone turns soft and gentle. "We are supposed to be together. Our union is fated."

He's staring at you expectantly even after your two attempts at rejection. You swiftly stub out the part-finished cigarette and take ownership in ending the interaction.

"I've had enough of this. I'm going back inside now. If you try and follow me, I will speak to the venue's management. If you are still here when I leave later, I will call the police."

You turn towards the door.

He calls your name. Your full name. Middle name too.

Despite your brain chanting at you to go inside, you can't stop yourself from looking back at him. "H-how do you know my full name?"

The profound rumble of his voice resonates deep in your ears. "I know everything about you, Y/N."

He's right in front of you now. His posture is bordering between desperate and predatory. Like he can't quite decide if he is seeking comfort from you, or if he wants to consume you.

You are fumbling behind you to find the door handle. "Please get away from me," you say hoarsely.

He reaches for your hand.

You jump back and struggle to get out of his grip but his strength is inhumanly strong. His skin of his palm is glacial against yours and yet somehow, the touch makes heat snake up your arm and settle in your chest.

You become aware of an internal feeling that you've always had, like that of chapped lips. Low level but something that constantly nags. Something that existed every minute of your life until the moment he touched you.

You grip his hand and look up at his face in astonishment.

"Good. That's it. Look into my eyes. See what you know is there."

You do as he says, totally stunned by the depths that seem to reside within them. It's as if there are universes suspended inside. Maybe there are. Perhaps you could float among the celestial bodies if you asked him to show you how.

You feel so alive and overstimulated that you welcome the delirious thoughts taking over your mind.

You welcome him.

It's like there is a cord connected between your heart and his that is shortening in length. The intensity scares you.

"Give into the pull," he urges darkly, sensing your anxiety.

You obey, feet moving of their own accord and then you are standing before him, just centimetres apart.

He smiles triumphantly and presses you flush against his body.

His free hand comes up to cup your jaw, fingers brushing the sensitive skin of your neck. More heat sears through you from the additional skin-on-skin contact.

Your peripheral vision closes tighter and tighter with every passing moment. The outside world is gone.

He leans in further and you wonder hazily if he is going to kiss you or break your neck. Both options are equally viable given the behaviour he has exhibited. You keep staring at him regardless.

His irises flash silver as he intones his next sentence. "Y/N, I claim you as my soulmate."

-------------------------------------

Taglist: @herfantasyworldd @kpopgirlbtssvt

"Am I your dream girl? You think of me in bed. But you could never hold me. You like me better in your head."

[hausofmamadas]

| A DANCE WITH DINARRÓN: Narcos Mexico/Tax Collector AU Crossover |

… aka an exercise in pure OTP self-indulgence but I don’t care cuz I don’t even care

═

Mira, let’s get this out the way, right quick.

If ever you think a Dinarrón post is my last, you’ve probly underestimating my ability to test everyone’s patience by hyperfocusing on one thing and taking to the interwebs to scream about it. Te lo juro I can and will be going for miles with this shit sksjsjsjsj. Having said that, I don’t have thaaat much to scream in all caps about? Like shits kinda speaks for itself.

✷

Howmever I do hereby submit to the official record: David Ayer’s the greatest gift to this earth not stiff competition aksksks bc so sorry Mr. Ayer but most of your movies are hot!garbage pero fun hot!garbage so (☞ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)☞ Ayer’s actual #1, capital T, Top contribution to history is not the movie Tax Collector but is this scene from the movie Tax Collector

…. of not our David Barron but still a Bobby-Soto-looking Eme gangster named David Barrón Cuevas … FUCKING 💃🏻SALSA💃🏻 DANCING LIKE ARE YOU FORREAL TRYING TO HAVE ME KILLED

✷

And with this gift, Ayer basically fueled the fire for this mind-meld of Dinarrón dancing, aaand it’s basically the sole reason for me waking up in the morning, it basically maaade the Dinarrón Blue Jeans vid bc I basically only decided to add TC clips after seeing the uncanny similarities to Dina’s wedding.

✷

It’s like Ayer actually Freddy Kruegered me, plucked the scene straight from my Dinarrón dreams bc the way it fits so well with the scenes of her lil dance routine have me Lebron-tear-ing to the goddamn moon.

✷

And since I first saw this hot!garbage movie, can conservatively say that I think about this mmm like twice a day. Like they’re not even from the same movie/show, but in my mind, they’re irrevocably fused together like this did just happen. It is canon wedding instead of what actually happened aka Min yelling at Barrón for drinking agua mineral and calling him Pancha’s “gente”

✷

OH AND how weird is it to see our boy smile ?? Barrón barely speaks a word sksks so like smile!??!!?! Pffft pls. Mans is a sicario, no tiene tiempo para eso curling-the-corners-of-his-mouth-to-express-joy mamadas. He’s too busy smoldering for no goddamn reason and white-lady-math-meme-ing his surroundings for threats both of which look remarkably similar re: what his face is doing.

Also this/ks:’kskamb mf hip swivel Dina doin in that last one🥴 sending me into full fucking heart palpitations. Like her booty alone, Jesus that booty does not get the gotdamn recognition it deserves in this fandom.

*slams hands on table like overzealous cop during an interrogation, stands up too forcefully knocks over own chair*

And YOU KNOW WHAT? I’m here before the court today, your honor, to atone for that sin. And since you’re dying to know, yes, being a martyr for The Cause is indeed a thankless job with no 401K or health benefits but I hear they’re gonna paint some real nice pictures of me after I’m dead, so clearly a fair trade.

═

taglist (for the free gifs): @narcolini @narcos-narcosmx @ashlingnarcos @drabbles-mc @rerorero-my-cherry @criatividad-e @cositapreciosa @cherixrosa-archived @artemiseamoon @purplesong1028 @mandaloria314 @tinylittleobsessions @narcosmx @thesolotomyhan

[ezamevolni]

Traces: Two-faced 👹

This moment deserves a whole mention on its own.

I found it fascinating that it belongs so much to a kdrama yet happened in real life, was captured on camera, and how we were granted a rare glimpse of a pro-idol switching up his persona for someone. And that someone isn't you or me, it's an act solely for his Jin hyung.

The Jeon Kookie has edge.

160513 Sinchon fan sign

The whole fancam is worth a gander. There's quite a few Jinkook crumbs in there.

Zooming in on the moment that blows my mind every time I think about it... the full sequence starts at around 4:45 when the members prompted Jhope to do the ShyShyShy aegyo (dance move from Twice's Cheer Up).

While Hobi was being cute, Tae mischievously nudged him from behind and he fell, caught off guard. Jin instinctively grabbed Hobi trying to keep him upright but gravity was too strong for them both..

About a minute before any of this happened, Jk had just expertly maneuvered himself from Point A (between RM and Jimin) ➡️ next to Jin

His steps may say 'I'm casual' but his hands say 'It's premeditated and I'm restless'.

After 2seok dived off stage, Tae trudged over to take up the spot where Jin had been standing.

When Tae moved up, Jk stared silently at him. In response, Tae glared back at the younger one with a challenging "WHUT?". Then Jk proceeded to 'attack' Tae:

It was playful with a bit of tension that dispersed quickly. (it looked like Jk was ready to wrestle throw Tae over his leg with the final move)

Namgi on the other end cued the whole team to perform ShyShyShy at that moment so Jk dropped the fight and followed suit.

Hobi and Jin had both returned onstage by then and were also doing the aegyo.

Jhope and Jin were standing to the right of Tae now. From the above screenshots, Tae had thought of something related to the aegyo, grabbed Jin's mic to tell the fans about the small correction, and performed aegyo again on his own.

A teeny tiny glimpse of edgy Kookie first showed up here. Just focus on Jk's expression that went from unamused (when Tae took Jin's mic and started talking) to allowing a grin to spread across his face (after Jin turned to face Tae and him)

It might have looked like Jk was laughing at Tae's aegyo because both Jinkook were focused on him right?

Don't be naive 😈

The split second Jin turned his head away, Jk's laughing expression dropped,

Look at Jk's face closely and try to keep an eye on Jin's actions at the same time lol. It's so quick but it's true: Jk's smile dropped after Jin turned away.

Who was the smile for? >>>> 🐹 Duh.

But other shippers might argue, Jk's eyes were on Tae??!!?, he was smiling for Tae's aegyo!!?!

But I say, just keep watching.

BTW the first gif at the top is from the following moment - 2seok were offcam giggling together and Jk was watching them with a series of interesting expressions:

Read it how you will. There's no right answer.

(I'm waiting for Jinkook to one day do a zoom q&a where we send them clips and ask what was happening here and they tell us exactly what they were thinking. [maybe in a parallel universe.])

Then here's Jk breaking back into a smile the second Jin turned to face him and Tae again:

Look at how slick he was, making sure to turn and fix his gaze on Tae (this kiddo was just vibing out) first, then shifting slightly to meet Jin's eyes before smiling.

Pretended like he hadn't been watching Jin hyung.

So if we go by what Jin saw:

And when Jin wasn't looking:

Indeed, beware the double 🐰.

I doubt Jin watches fancams of their fansigns and mayhaps never seen this whole act by Jk before. If someone did force him to watch, he'll probably say something like "nah, he's been smiling, what are you talking about ☺️" like a Kookie solo

It is that serious though. Jungkook's only a cheerful sunny good boy for his Jin. Anybody else, he don't give a damn. Not even the fans. There's a whole bunch looking right at him. (and also us thanks to the fancam owner 🫶🏼)

Assuringly, Jk knows himself well. When concentrating on a certain one in the moment, he knows he can forget about the countless other presences watching him

Spoken with years of experience, Tae.

[yunwooz]

SANCHELINZ’S GIFFING PROCESS

hi hi so i figured i would compile a post for my giffing process as i have gotten several questions about how i gif so quickly/what i use/etc so! 

tools i use:

- vapoursynth - photoshop

specs:

i have two devices that i gif on, i just switch between the two depending on where i’m at.

for my desktop computer, i have an alienware aurora r11

- processor: intel core i7-10700K - ram (memory): 32.0GB - os: windows 11

for my laptop, i have a dell xps 15 9500

- processor: intel core i7-10875H - ram (memory): 16.0GB - os: windows 10

if you want see a side by side comparison of gifs i make on each, all my paradigm sets were made on my laptop (here, here, here, and here) while my taemin gifs and these two key mv sets were made on my desktop (here, here, and here). they generally look the exact same, my desktop is just faster bc it has more memory.

things i do first:

i always clip the video i’m working with first by writing out the timestamps i want to use solely bc that is what works best and quickest for me. every gifmaker is different and will have different tactics, but that’s just what i’m used to and what helps me expedite the process the most!

clipping things this way means that i spend less time rifling through frames and shots to find what i like bc i just make note of the timestamp where a certain shot i like is and can push it through the vapoursynth real easy

vapoursynth settings:

for vapoursynth i try not to do too much since i do most my work inside photoshop itself, and i keep these settings the same 100% of the time. and rather than going through each individual gif, i overwrite the code each time i start a new set so that i can keep the sizes the same from gif to gif. this also cuts down on time and makes it easier to focus on other parts of the process

video = core.knlm.KNLMeansCL(video, 0, 6, 4, 0.5, channels="YUV") video = fun.FineSharp(video, sstr=1.5)

i only use a preprocessor (video = haf.QTGMC(video, Preset="Slower", TFF=True) bilinear) when the file i’m working with overlaps frames or has that ‘striping’ effect on it.

i trim all my clips/gifs on vs to start! if a gif ends up being too large, or i don’t like certain frames, or i don’t like the way it loops, i’ll simply delete as needed later in photoshop!

once i get my output and it processes (the processing time of the gifs is usually what takes the longest and i have found that this speed depends mostly on your device’s memory. my desktop is much faster than my laptop bc my desktop has twice the amount of memory on it) i copy and paste the output file into a generic copy like this. if i’m making a ton of clips (20-30+) then i will name them or separate into folders as needed

photoshop:

firstly, photoshop is very dependant on memory as well. the sole reason why my desktop has so much memory is bc of photoshop. you can go into settings to change how much memory photoshop consumes (edit -> preferences -> performance) and photoshop will recommend an ideal range to use too. i have mine set to 70% and it runs like a dream. the only crashes i’ve experienced have been when i’m running other programs that use a lot of memory at the same time.

i monitor my task manager regularly simply bc i like knowing why my computer is running the way it is and i can confirm that photoshop eats memory hardcore. if you use both vapoursynth and photoshop, and have issues with slowness and/or crashes, i recommend keeping photoshop closed until you are fully done with vapoursynth.

i don’t reuse colorings from set to set so i don’t really keep/use psds personally. i know a lot of gifmakers do have set psds that they make to use for certain kinds of videos and such, and that is def something that can speed up the process too ^^

what i personally do is group my coloring layers into a folder and once i’ve finished coloring one gif i will simply copy and paste it onto the next and make minor adjustments as needed!

coloring itself, it depends from set to set but the five layers i absolutely always use are: brightness/contrast, color balance, channel mixer, selective color, and exposure (i always keep my exposure layer on the very top, it’s a minor change but just a personal preference)

i try to make everything as easy as possible when giffing personally, so if i can turn a 20 click process into one click, then i absolutely will. 

90% of the speed of my giffing comes from actions!

actions are my best best best friend in the universe when it comes to giffing. i have the same action sets on both my laptop and desktop so that i don’t have to remember my settings myself since my memory is horrible.

first convert: select all frames, select all layers, convert frame animation, convert to smart object

compile: select all layers, convert to smart object

0.02/0.03/0.04/0.05/0.06: frame speed settings/ selecting all frames, change frame animation speed

blur: for captions, i duplicate the og layer and select the area around the caption then use gaussian blur at radius 1.4 pixels to blur. i typically go in after the fact with the blurring tool to smooth the edges around the blur section so it isn’t as sharp!

i have an action for my noise settings to maximize efficiency too, then i do the same for my denoise/sharpening settings. i have two separate ones, one for small gifs (like for a 9-set, 3x3) and one for all other sizes of gifs

the final convert is simply flattening the frames into clips and converting the timeline, making frames from layers, then setting it to whatever speed i like. because im ultra lazy, i have those frame speed settings as an action so i can just do one click instead of like, three. 

essentially, if there is something i know i will be doing and/or repeating often, i make it an action. that’s really what makes my process as quick as it is imo!

honestly i just try to streamline the process as much as possible bc the technical parts of clicking 100 different things are not what i enjoy about giffing, i enjoy coloring and playing with layers the most so that’s what i want to spend the brunt of my time doing. but i also tend to be super busy while also wanting to gif a ton so over time and with practice a lot of the process has become pretty snappy and easy just from that!

pls feel free to ask questions if anything doesn’t make sense im not the best at communicating my thoughts into words so i might be explaining things in a way only i can understand but i hope it makes sense enough and is helpful too!!

[hooned]

𓏳  HI !! ok so the other day, i received this ask:

and because i procrastinate as a living, i’m only making it now 🤧 i am so sorry bb!! but yeah, here is how i color the skin in my gifs.

disclaimer: i don’t save my psds so i always make my colorings from scratch. so this coloring won’t work on any other scene since the sole purpose of this post is to show the steps i do in coloring hehe. also eng is not my native language so bear with me besties. 😫

𓏳 first thing i do is check the brightness of the clip i’m going to gif. is it too pale? or if it’s too dark. to do this i make a curves layer. for this gif, it’s a lot paler for my liking so i will be adding contrast to it. i just really play around with it till i achieve the contrast i want. then, i add a color balance layer to make the gif yellow (this is to add a base color to the skin). and when i say yellow, i mean REALLY yellow (don’t worry bec. we will fix this in the next steps). optional, but i added vibrance in order to make the colors pop. this is the gif after:

i know it’s too yellow now, but don’t worry we will fix that in the next step.

𓏳 next is the channel mixer which i believe is one of the game changers in coloring. through the channel mixer, we will separate the yellows from the reds. my settings don’t really change. i only tweak the blues (green = +53, blue = +43). now here is our gif:

to be honest, you can already stop here. but since i want my reds to pop, i sometimes add like tons of selective layers and add blacks of the reds +10 at a time till i achieve my desired color. here is the gif after tweaking the selective layers:

𓏳 and then i add a gradient map layer (the brown one which is included in ps by default hehe) soft light, 20%. you can add more tweaking with the colors and everything but basically this is what i do. 😚 i hope it helped!! here is the final gif!!

[elliethesuperfruitlover]

Ellie’s Blorbo List of 2022

Not gon’ cap, I had a very shitty first 6 months of 2022 and kinda uh….isolated myself (and had no choice but to do so at one point). But I’m here right now. And I’m alive and breathing. And that’s enough for me.

We’re gonna go through some of the characters I chose to be a part of my clan this year as a fun little thing to celebrate being here. And as something to observe me by, this is PALPABLE.

Tag List: (bc i hope y’all want to hear these things) @joz-stankovich​, @super-unpredictable98​, @badsext​, @bisexualnathanyoung​, @maerenee930​, @seancekitsch​, @candyclaw, @magic-multicolored-miracle​​

Alastor (Hazbin Hotel)

part of the reason I kinda uh….went far under was related to him. But I’m able to enjoy him and keep the nasty stuff at bay now so that’s fun :).

Peter Parker/Andrew Garfield (The Amazing Spider-Man 1 and 2, Spider-Man: No Way Home)

I made an entire playlist about Prior Walter. And watched Tick Tick Boom. And part of under the silver lake……I was balls deep in this man’s cinematography, and it was all thanks to No Way Home.

Dr. Otto Octavius/Alfred Molina (Spider-Man 2 and Spider-Man: No Way Home)

Part 2 of my no way home brainrot. This man…..yeah……mhm. I love him so much. Big boy. That’s all.

Cloud Strife (specifically Final Fantasy 7, but he’s a part of the whole franchise)

I’ve had moments with Cloud every now and then, and I’ve decided to include him, solely on the fact that I have over 20 edits of him saved on a google doc. I’ve also never played a single Final Fantasy game.

Eddie Munson/Joseph Quinn (Stranger Things)

I watched season 4 of stranger things as a distraction from the horrors and I never looked back. He is my baby boy and baby girl and Erica and Lucas are my younger siblings. He’s made me feel unlike any other character, especially in the way he makes me want to punch people on tiktok who call cosplay “cringe”, or bully outcasts.

Steve Harrington/Joe Keery (Stranger Things)

babygirl. I want to fix him a nice large meal. And hose him down in the front yard because I know for a fact he needs a bath. I’m cleaning him like a duckling covered in oil. I also watched Spree, and listened to DJO for the first time around September-ish. I’m unstoppable now. Joe Keery’s music is SOLID.

Maxine (Max) Mayfield (Stranger Things)

She’s my bestie. I’m protecting her from all harm in Season 5. Thank you very much.

Morpheus/Dream of the Endless (The Sandman)

He’s my skrunkly little man. I almost put desire too....imagine i put a gif of them on here wow omg.

Prince Sidon (The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild)

This one was mildly short lived, but it happened. I love him so much....shark prince. (fun fact, sharks have not one, but 2 penises) I have not played a single second of any Zelda game.....yet here we are.

Hamlet (Hamlet)

Ok so we read and watched Hamlet in AP English Lit (Branagh’s version with clips from the other) and I was like “this man right here needs therapy”. This is a joke but it’s also not.

Principal Larissa Weems (Wednesday)

I recognized Gwendoline Christie from The Sandman when I saw the trailers for Wednesday and went “oh bet I’m definitely watching this” and I finished this show in less than 24 hours.......yeah I like it. She cares about her students, she’s tall, she’s definitely a lesbian. I love her.

Wednesday Addams (Wednesday)

She’s my bestie, I’m her bestie. She was my first cosplay. That’s all.

Tangerine (Bullet Train)

I watched this movie a whopping almost 48 hours ago. I love him. I want to fix him a large meal. Treat him. That is all.

[looooooooomis]

Okay hear me out. I've been watching Riverdale which is the shittiest show/story line ever. Like some of the seasons I can almost get down with but then they throw some bullshit at us. But omg I can't not look at Skeet in this show. He is just so fucking hot. I mean cmonnn.

Like praying to the lord for this man to impregnate me. 😂😂😂😂😂

first of all babe I applaud you for being able to watch riverdale LMAO I watched the first 2 seasons and every single time I see a clip of it now I'm so fucking lost

however like I see the appeal and by appeal I see the above gif and realize I may need to scope out solely FP's bits on that show bc he's TOO fucking hot its not even fair tbh

[darling-i-read-it]

The Chesapeake Manor Part 2/3

Hannibal Lecter x reader x Will Graham

Word Count: 900

Warnings: SUICIDE, this may be very triggering as their is a suicide death in this chapter, blood, hanging, overall dark themes 

Requested: by @bioshvckd​

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy this part, despite the sadness of it. 

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director 

(not my gif)

You made yourself at home that first time you arrived. You were pleased with it. As a broke college student who found a cheap home you were pleased with the entire outcome. Murders or not, it was gorgeous.

You walked through the home, noticing every piece of it. It was like the two people who had lived there before left their things inside. It had every piece of regal furniture from the first owner and then pieces of more simplistic nature from the second. You brought in your own things to mix in with the other two.

You thought they complimented each other very well.

You walked through the kitchen into the dining room. As you did so, Will watched you carefully in the shadows. You could not see him, he could make sure of that. Your beauty stood out, your passion. 

“You are in love with her life, not her,” Hannibal stated. He too watched as you moved in and made the place your own. You were alone in the home other than the other two ghosts of men. 

“How can you say that?” Will questioned. 

“When you came into the home I simply needed companionship. You arrived for the history. She is simply here for a home,” Hannibal stated. You left the room they were in so they moved to the next swiftly, gracefully. 

“What if I want companionship?” Will questioned.

“Are you willing to take her life for it?” 

Will did not answer. 

For the next couple of weeks he simply watched you from a distance. He could not actually interact with you. You would see him but only in the corners of your eyes as yu left the room. You never saw all of him. Just pieces. 

But you felt him.

And Hannibal too. 

It was a curious thing, feeling something that you knew was not there. You would walk into a particularly cold room and feel the presence of someone else with you. Not hostile, never harming you. Just simply observing. 

One afternoon, after living there for two months, you found a box of things. Newspaper clippings, pictures. 

You sat on the floor, brushing a piece of hair out of your face as you started to dig into the many pictures. Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter. Pictures from when they lived in the home. Hannibal had taken pictures of the furniture and art and food. You knew he took them because he had written on the back the dates, in perfect calligraphy. Will took pictures of dogs, skies, trees. His handwriting was a scribble. 

Beside their simplistic pictures were newspapers from their deaths. 

Will and Hannibal sat on either side of you. 

“Yes,” Will whispered. Hannibal looked up at him. You could not hear them.

“Yes what?” Hannibal questioned. 

“I want companionship,” Will whispered quietly, almost ashamed by it. Hannibal smiled and nodded. He was pleased to hear this. He couldn’t say he wasn’t fascinated by you as you were fascinated by his and Will’s deaths. 

Hannibal placed a hand on your neck and you looked up. A sudden chill went down your spine as you felt his touch but saw no hand, no body attached to it. Instead of panic all you felt was a sudden sense of calm. 

Calmness. 

You looked down at the pictures and brushed a newspaper with your fingertips. 

The next thing you remember you were freezing. Your whole body like an ice cube as you sat at the bottom of the Manors stairwell. You looked at your hands, a deathly sting to them. You looked up slowly at the soles of your shoes, hanging from a rope. Your dead body above you. 

You started to scream but stopped short as a hand touched your back. You turned quickly to be met with eyes you had only felt, never seen. Ice blue ones. 

“Will?” you whispered. He gave you an inviting smile. 

“‘I’m sorry you’re dead,” he whispered. Your eyes went wide and it sat in. This man was dead. You were dead. He helped you up and behind him stood Hannibal, standing straight up and eyeing you nicely. 

“I’m…how?” 

“Hanging,” Hannibal said. “It looked better than another natural death.” You gasped and looked around quickly. 

“You killed me?!” 

“For good reason,” Hannibal countered.

“And what was that?” 

“This is the conversation I had with him as well,” Will said, helping you stand on your new, dead legs. 

“Companionship.”

3/3

[papergirllife]

Chasing The Flames

Chapter 11 : Out Of Our Grasp

*gif credits to owner

fic masterlist: here

full masterlist

to request

you have 30 texts ; 16 missed calls ; 3 voice mails.

All these unread texts and unanswered calls were all from the nct dream members. I haven’t seen them for a long time, Mr Kang gave me more projects to work on, and even leading one of them by yourself.

The times when I wasn’t loaded with work, I found other activities distracting myself, learning how to bake, going to the gym, and even giving in to try knitting, but that one failed of course.

Whenever I had the urge to call them back, I shut off my phone, reasoning that this was the best I could do to not tarnish this friendship. It was the only way Jeno and Jaemin wouldn’t hate me for my feelings towards Jeno? Jaemin? Both of them?

I shook my head at what absurd thoughts I had, I can’t like both of them, this is unusual and unnatural? I didn’t know what to make of my feelings towards them, Jaemin made me felt like I was sitting in front of a fireplace with a cup of hot coco  on a cold winter night. Jeno is more of a red fiery passion, spontaneous late night car rides to the beach side.

Maybe I was just overthinking things, maybe I had these feelings only because I found them very photogenic. But that didn’t make any sense. Every time  log on instagram’s explore page and see their weird expressions on those clips posted by their fan accounts, I would have a smile on my face, before realising what a dumb thing I was doing.

I was falling like a fool.

It was a Friday night, and I was outside the nearest convenience store drinking soju by myself, the warm alcohol flowing down your throat a stark contrast to this chilly night. I was drowning in guilt, I ruined a perfect friendship with 7 very good friends because I had thrown my feelings into the mix.

It’s not like they found out, but I feel like they knew all along, the way I accidentally stared at them for too long, the way my cheeks were heating up even though I wasn’t dong anything athletic. It’s best that I leave them good memories as it is, before I misstep and make everything go down the drain. That’s the least I can do. As I downed another gulp of soju, someone dressed in all black with a mask and a cap sat down your table. I thought it was just another customer, until that person took off his disguise, making me choke on the alcohol.

“Renjun?”

“I was about to go to your house, but you made things easier.”

“Why are you here?”

“To come find you. Why have you been ignoring our texts and calls?”

“I’ve been busy with work”

That wasn’t a lie, entirely.

“Everyone’s worried about you, especially Jaemin, you know how much of a mom he can get. I snuck out of the dorms just to look for you so you better say yes.”

“Yes to what?”

“Jeno’s birthday dinner with the dream members is next Saturday at the dorms, and he’s been distressed about your absence, not entirely focusing on work, getting frustrated when  he doesn’t get a dance move right.”

“I...

“I don’t know what you’re going through right now, but tell me when you’re ready okay?”

I nodded in silence, knowing that Renjun would hate me if I told him about my crush towards his two best friends.

“I will.”

“I have to go back now, before Taeyong hyung does the night checks. Night.”

“Night.”

It was the night of the birthday dinner, I made Jeno a cake for his birthday and bought a pair of biking gloves for him. I’m now standing in front of their door, hand held in a fist over the door, but not daring to knock yet. I could feel the way how tensed my limbs were, the way my heart was beating faster than what I wanted it to. I could just leave? Leave the cake and present here after knocking. But what would they think of me? Would they hate me after if I pulled that stunt? My heels were starting to dig into my sole when the door swung open, revealing Chenle’s bright smile.

“Y/N, you’re finally here. We haven’t seen you in such a long time, I can’t believe the company is overworking you. You look so much more tired from when we last saw you. It’s fine, Renjun told us everything.”

“Yah Chenle, Y/N looks fine. Don’t be so rude.”

“Hi, Jisung.”

Chenle opened the door a bit wider for Jisung to come out, his smile wide when he saw the cake in your hands.

“Come in now, don’t catch a cold. Why did you let Y/N stand outside for so long? Just talk inside.”

The two of them started bickering like children during my walk to the kitchen. Just when I was about to place the cake in the fridge, someone sneaked up behind me.

“Long time no see.”

“Oh my god! You scared me, hi, happy birthday Jeno. I baked this cake and your present’s on the table.”

“Why haven’t you been answering our calls?”

He wasn’t smiling, but he wasn’t angry either. This is bad, I rather he had shouted at me, than hearing the disappointment laced in his voice.

“I was busy with work, lots of comebacks and some modelling shoots at the sister company. I usually shut my phone off and most times I just have time for sleep and...

At this point I’m just rambling what comes to mind eyes avoiding his, noticing the way his hands are littered with veins, he must’ve put in a lot more time in the gym. I noticed his disheveled appearance, the stubs of facial hair, the pajamas even on his birthday.

... I’m sorry.”

I looked up slightly to see him biting his lower lip, brows furrowed in concentration, and Jaemin was behind him. I heard Chenle calling me into the balcony to show me something, so I quickly excused myself, legs feeling like jelly under their scrutinizing gaze.

Even though, Chenle was showing me Louis, Ten’s cat that they borrowed for a day, I can’t help but look back to see Jeno and Jaemin’s their unreadable expressions.

“Why did she act like nothing happened?”

“Technically, nothing happened, but that’s the problem.”

Jaemin was gazing at you with a somewhat painful expression on his face, he doesn’t want to push you, but the fact that you were down right ignoring them really hurt him and Jeno.

“I thought she has feelings for us. I saw the way she looked at me, it was like how you look at me, doesn’t that mean something?”

“She might be scared Jeno. We can’t just force her into accepting the fact that she likes us. Everyone’s confused with their feelings and what they want in their life. You have to understand that polyamorous relationships still aren’t accepted widely by society, maybe she doesn’t even know what does that even mean.”

“What if she doesn’t like us and that we’re just blindly embracing the idea?”

“Don’t be so passive Jeno. Like what you said just now, she does look at us differently. If she tells us she has no feelings for us herself, then we can give up. We never gave up during our trainee days, this is just another hurdle Jeno ah. We’ll make it.”

Jeno scratched the back of his head, sighing at how stupid he was to act and think this way. He remembered the days when he was in denial of his feelings for Jaemin as well, thinking that it was wrong to love a man, but as he looks back at those days and think back the emotions and confusion he felt back then, he realised this must be what you’re dealing with now. He should be guiding you, not being angry at your confused self. He was being selfish, and now he’s going to make it up to you.

“Y/N is just like you back then, but less aggressive. Remember when you got drunk and tried to punch me?”

Jeno groaned in annoyance at the events that led to that memory.

“It was a one time thing, shut up. I didn’t even punch you, even though I was so wasted and angry, I was still sober enough to know that I love you.”

“But you were in denial?”

“I was young and dumb, shut up.”

“I love you too, Jeno ah. We should head back out the living area, before Chenle gets the wrong idea and announces it to the world.”

Through out dinner, Jeno and Jaemin seemed to have calmed down a bit after the first interaction prior an hour ago. Jeno even made small talk with me which surprised me very much while Jaemin seemed to be careful of the words he used to speak to me. I don’t know what’s going through their minds, but I rather be smiling along with them than see those disappointed looks on their faces ever again.

I talked to them about work, the projects that had lined up and the side projects at hand while they listened intently, Jeno’s smile appearing when I mentioned working with Super Junior for the online concert and their recent promotions.When I cut the cake for all of them, Jaemin helped distributing the slices of cake to everyone.

At the last piece, Jaemin wasn’t prepared for your hand to pass him the piece as he had known it was yours, your hand once again passing him the plate, but instead of coming in contact with the ceramic, he felt your soft hands.

I looked up in shock, my heartbeat racing at the slightest of contact.

Jaemin’s lips were agape, worrying that you’ll think he was overstepping tonight after many days of dismissal from you.

“Sorry, I didn’t know you’ll still be passing that plate, that’s your own piece, everyone is eating theirs now.”

“It’s alright, it was my fault, I’m being a blur again.”

Jaemin let out a small laugh at what I had said, his eyes glimmering with a sense of warmth? content? I had no idea what that means, but I’m sacred of what my heart wants it to mean.

Jaemin noticed the way you had looked into his eyes, but a sense of something came over you seconds after, sadness? insecurity? You were a sometimes so easy to read, but some days he felt like he was trying to read spanish.

As the night was still young, Renjun bought out the soju and champagne. The lot of us drank while having a mini karaoke, while Jisung was trying to keep some of his hyungs from doing anything they’ll regret in the morning.

With the alcohol in my system, my nerves started to let loose, feelings less tensed. I don’t know how am I going back home tonight, but for now I didn’t really care, it’s been the most fun I had in days after days of worrying about.

I looked at the time on the clock as I forgot where I placed my phone, it’s nearing 1 a.m. , and yet Renjun is still belting out high notes, although in a tipsy state, a sober Jisung trying to get him to bed. It was a comedic relief, seeing how happy they are makes the stress in your head fade away bit by bit.

Jeno is a happy man he thinks, at least for now, he had a delicious meal cooked by his boyfriend and brothers, a cake you baked yourself just for his birthday, and a bottle of champagne. Is he drunk on happiness or the amount of alcohol he consumed? He doesn’t know, he just knows that you look cute whenever you had a little too much to drink, your eyes crinkling as your smiles are wider in this state, he feels a smile tugging on his lips as he sees your own.

He sees your drunk state looking for the bathroom, he gets up to watch you, just in case your clumsy self stumbles along the way, or Chenle’s basketball was lying around the hallway again. Jeno hid in his room to wait for you, not wanting to seem like creep and accidentally scare you away.

As he heard the door open, the weight in his heart started receding, he was scared you’d trip on something in there, even in the hallway, you were already feeling the walls with your hands. But just as he thought you were going to be fine, you had tried to switch off the bathroom light, but your wet hands slipped, making you lose your balance.

I was sure I was going to be a goner when I felt my head become delusional from the alcohol and the sudden slip up made my mind dizzy, but instead I felt a pair of arms holding onto me. I opened my eyes to see Jeno’s face millimeters away from mine, his body was against mine, our heartbeats racing at a hundred and five, he still hasn’t let me go, his eyes scanning my face, taking in my flustered expression.

Jeno’s face was inching closer to mine, his lips agape, as if he was waiting for ymy lips to meet his. His eyes were shaded with a sense of something mysterious and it was hypnotising, although I had plenty to drink, the slip up made me sober up quite a bit.

“Jeno... I can get up now, thank you.”

Jeno lifted me up from that near falling position, but his arms around me never wavered. His eyes were searching yours, what is he looking for?

“Y/N, I like you.”

[em-exceeds-change-zearu]

i feel like i’ve yelled about this before but i’m doing it again in gif format because look. look. most of the anime’s fight scenes are nothing to write home about because they’re yelling out attacks on a stock screen. but the scene i giffed above from the cygnus rematch episode is honestly one of my favorites solely because it gives an actual real-time window as to how these matches actually work, with battle cards being called out without fanfare and seamlessly transitioned to mid-fight - the first gif even shows rockman leaping back to give himself to throw out a card mid flight and process it while charging forward at cygnus, which requires some serious precision and coordination. we don’t get a lot of scenes like these but man if i don’t really love the quality of the ones we do have, they still hold up animation wise years later and still impress me as much as they did when i first saw them.

bonus - a clip from the second match with burai in season 2 that has the same properties in an even shorter timeframe, which takes advantage of the fact that he doesn’t need to throw battle cards anymore to make things even more seamless. i love this one too and is also one of my favorites but it doesn’t match with the above photosets so you get it here

[sotorubio]

somone asked for kieutou or crisana so im gonna be the bitch and ask throw mayla into the mix and rank them based on how much you personally love their vibes n couple dynamics y'know all that💌😌

smfjskfksk thank u viv that's actually rly fun, a wlw throw down!!!

i think i'm gonna go with

1. crisana

2. kieutou

3. mayla

crisana's vibes r definitely impeccable n as i said i love the best friend vibes they have especially in season 3 😌 maybe they benefit from already having had the chance to be background characters bc i think that's the true test, if they still come through when they're not the central couple i will rly like them slfjks

i think kieutou has to be second both bc i do like their vibes but also bc i just had to put mayla last SLFJSKKD don't get me wrong mayla has rly supportive vibes i saw all the gifs of mayla looking at lola so lovingly when lola said she had a good support system 🥺 (i don't remember the correct line but that's what she implied i think) n in that clip where maya was talking to tiff while lola was trying to get the furniture up the stairs n was playfully bickering w maya had GREAT vibes between them However ✋ maya is on thin ice for being a tiff bootlicker so their vibes r suffering 😔 they had too much insta love in lola's season n now when they get to develop in the bg maya's just gonna be buddies w her girlfriend's bully/stalker, cmon ladies...

as for kieutou's own vibes i think they have soul mate vibes! they deserve the spot too n i love this final dynamic where fatou who's usually the quiet & insecure one in her friend group gets to be the protective & caring partner to a more vulnerable & soft kieu my who on the other hand has to have a more stoic/strong role outside of the relationship. they kind of get to switch the roles they have in the outside world whenever their together 🥰

i'm gonna say smth a bit controversial tho n IF i ignored every writing choice, as in just forget abt what happens in each season i might flip kieutou's & mayla's places 😬 but solely from the personal preference regarding the dynamic, i think kieutou's dynamic was the best around the time of the roof clip bc fatou has idolized her so much n had this picture perfect view of her for so long n now kieu my had to go after fatou, that's kind of when fatou gained a lot of self respect n realized that just bc she's w the girl of her dreams doesn't mean she can be treated w disrespect n i feel like kieu my also realized that right then n started seeing fatou as someone she needs to actively make effort for (like she said usually guys just come to her n she doesn't have to do anything so this is the first time she probably sees that being the iconic n cool kiwu my isn't enough to keep up a relationship), that's also why i wish they had had less falling-outs bc then soon enough it was fatou again who had smth to apologize for which i didn't like at all :/ kieu my's status in their circles was/is just so much higher that i wish the apology cycle had ended when she was the one who had to apologize.

But the reason that isn't enough to knock kieutou down in the official rank is bc druck still wrote all those fights & apologies rly well n meaningfully so it didn't ruin the dynamic i just personally didn't like that it had to be done so many times

[smilingperformer]

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: I’m BAD at commentating battle-focused episodes. And that’s what NS013 was mostly: battle-focused. So I’ll skip on writing an essay or giffing anything lol (Post-writing comment: I failed!)

Anywho, we rewatched episodes NS012 and NS013 today with sis, and gosh they work so well back-to-back, while the daimax ball sizes seem to have inconsistensies (Dande’s daimax ball in NS013 was WAY smaller than in NS012). But the OST usage is great, I really am starting to like what they did with the gym leader theme in Pokeani, as it’s simply just gosh darn amazing. The animation was gorgeus to look, and askjfjskfh so called G-max Pikachu happening, like it wasn’t obvious! I love how we have an updated Surprised Pikachu meme as well. I mean come on!

If that isn’t the meme in new HD glory then I don’t know what is lol. I swear this is intentional meme material fsjhfjhf.

I do want to quickly talk about Satoshi and how he’s so become a huge fan of Dande. I mean: the moment Dande winks at him, he turns into this the next moment we see him:

When I saw this yesterday, I got worried. Like, what was wrong with him? Even Gou gets worried, and it’s totally serious when he doesn’t even care about his food being stolen by a random Skwoket.

Damn. Even won’t hear Gou so well during this state.

And then Gou states this. He’s so become a good friend by now, knows what friends do and isn’t afraid to offer help. I like how their friendship has developed so far.

And this is the sole reason. sjfkgsjhfhgsjkfhksjh SATOSHI YOU ARE SO MESMERIZED. And like, the dialogue about how Gou thinks Satoshi thinks about Pokémon and battles 24/7 but Satoshi trying to correct him into saying it’s 24 minus 10 hours since he needs that amount of sleep just sjfhgfsjhfgshj. He’s adorable, and relatable. Then Gou proceeds to explain how exactly Satoshi can battle Dande again and it’s such a complicated process that even I’m confused???

Same Satoshi, same.

I mean.... I think that’s basically it lol If you don’t lose at all then you’ll climb quick, ahahaha.

Gou’s adorable with his knowledged ass realising Satoshi will manage to make anything complicated sound so simple lol.

Then Satoshi proceeds to choke on food and freaking Dande casually gives water asjhfgsjhfgsjfhgsjhf. Rica’s delivery on this scene where Satoshi stutters Dande’s name is way too good asjkfgsjhfgjhs I want someone to do a vid clip just on Satoshi choking, getting water and stuttering D-d-d-dande-san kasjfghsjhfg. Love it. Love it. Love it!

I think Dande is the first ever Champion to like, right away accept a battle request from someone like Satoshi? Shirona didn’t accept it, Adeku didn’t, Carne didn’t, Satoshi never battled Mikuri or Daigo either. So this is literarily the first Champion he’s met, that notices how much Satoshi wants to battle him and lets him do so without any question or hesitation. I think there was also the hidden reason of Dande wanting to learn more about this boy who managed to kyodaimax his partner Pikachu without daimax band. He doesn’t say it, but I’m certain that’s the case.

This is the kind of thing that is SO Satoshi’s trait and him getting praised for it MUST be awesome for Satoshi, which is why he blushes for these words. Seriously. Dande seems to meet every standard Satoshi has for a greatest trainer, and Dande IS the World Champion. No wonder he now makes beating him the first step in becoming the Pokémon Master. Dande does seem pretty close to what Satoshi aspires to be!

Erm. I don’t wanna drag on too long so I’ll cut it here. But all in all, great duo of Galar episodes focusing on introducing Dande, and I cannot wait to see more of Galar in the future. Next week also looks fun, and with Tomioka writing, I think I’ll find it enjoyable. Not excited to see Hitomoshi/Litwick again thou, oh god no the flashbacks to the horrors in BW x.x

[sergeanttpoliteness]

➹one make out session, please➹ (peter b. parker x reader)

The sad and divorced man who's become a regular for the past year is constantly spilling his emotions to you, his favorite bartender. This wasn't something new; you can't count with both of your hands the times you've heard someone recount the odyssey of their life. But these flutters in your stomach were definitely something you didn't experience with your customers, and you definitely did not end up making out with them at the end of the night. Maybe Peter B. was your only exception, though.

(PART II) 

word count: 7.1k (sorry)

a/n: i tried like 8484 times to add a gif but tumblr wouldn’t let me so ((:: hello @ whoever’s reading this tho!! love how i went from 2k to 7k words lol, i’m sorry about that i don’t know how it happened. feel free to help me out w ideas and send requests if you want (: hope u enjoy !! Tiresome was a massive understatement when it came to having to describe enduring the same routine most nights. Not that you slept peacefully like a newborn baby all the time before taking a job as a bartender at the bar; but once in a while, when you returned home and watched the bright red numbers of the clock switch to 5 o’clock in the morning since your brain was punishing you by not giving you your well deserved rest, you sure did miss those simpler times when you didn’t work at night. Yes, at first it may be amusing to watch a drunk customer go haywire as they try to understand the meaning of life, and it’s nice listening to the story of how someone ended up drinking five shots of tequila that evening. You relished listening to other people’s problems, their stories, their lives— perhaps because, as much as it ashamed you to admit it, you didn’t make much out of yours. However, two years of the same old passed, and soon enough, every conversation and dusk began to blur together; everything became a monotonous daze, like an old movie replaying endlessly every week. The obvious route would be to quit your job as a bartender before you lost your mind, but the old lady who owned the bar paid somewhat generously considering the career— both with affection and money— and, despite how cocky it might’ve sounded, you knew well that the customers would be lost without your glorious daiquiris and margaritas. You’d also grown fond of the few people there and the new friends you made once in a while; you didn’t have the exact explanation as to why, but whilst you were in that hazy trance, you were quite the charmer. 

Every night was just like that: nothing more than a few more hours to your life, until a man who you guessed was probably nearing his forties and with a really, really nice nose (what could you say? You had an appreciation for the art of beautiful noses), dropped on the stool directly in front of you with a heavy sigh.

“One whiskey served over ice, please.” He muttered, resting his chin on the palm of his hand. You didn’t think much about it as your hands got to work and moments later handed the man his drink. You later spent your time trying to distract yourself with the preparation of other beverages, yet your eyes were drawn to him momentarily once or twice. Even as you talked with a tourist— a woman from Croatia asking about the best restaurants and stores in the city— the image of the guy itched at the back of your head, and you couldn’t figure out why. He was attractive, you decided, in spite of his rugged looks; he honestly appeared as if a train had hit him. Whether it was a physical or emotional train, you wouldn’t be surprised if it had been both.

The tourist sadly ended your conversation, distracted by the game on the TV, but you took it as an opportunity to comply with your desires and approach the man. You see, you liked to believe you possessed powers— useless ones, to say the least: just by a quick scan, you knew if a person needed a good talk; it could’ve been after their third drink, maybe even when they’re still sober. Suddenly, though, your bartender-senses abandoned you along with your charm and you simply couldn’t find a way to spark up a conversation with the guy. Really? You thought to yourself. Right now, when a cute older dude is sitting right in front of you, probably in need of your comradeship? Yeah, he was most definitely older than you, perhaps by some ten years, but did you really care? 

You were stuck, unable to crawl out of the crater until, eventually, he asked for his third drink. Showtime, you breathed in, the confidence hugging your entire body. “Just saying, but I could already sense this third drink once you walked in through the door,” You tried to joke.

He huffed through his nose, a hint of a smile on the corner of his lips. “Do I look that bad?” He asked, a playful tone in his voice. A lopsided grin found itself onto your face and you slightly leaned over to wipe the surface next to where his hand rested.

“The opposite, actually. You’re quite the handsome guy.” Oh, there it was. He didn’t seem repulsed, which could’ve been a good sign, except that he didn’t look like anything— his expression was unreadable.

He raised his glass up to his lips. “Yeah, well, don’t really feel like it right now,” He said before taking a swig of his drink. You picked up a wet empty glass and dried it with your towel, like the true bartender you were.

“Well, do you feel like talking about it?” His eyes darted up to you and he lifted a brow. “There’s obviously a reason why you’re sitting here right now, no?”

You waited for an answer, but he swallowed his entire drink before he set the dry cup on the bar. “Maybe another time, kid.” Ouch. Kid? Really? You thought this was over once you turned twenty-three. “But I gotta get going now.”

That was the first conversation you two shared, and you bit the inside of your cheek as you watched him leave, disappointed that it also could’ve been the last one. You should’ve learned by now, though: this wasn’t the first time you made a “friend”, hoped that they would drop by again in the future, only to never see their faces again. You took in his appearance one last time then, cherishing the fleeting buzz in your head. But you were lucky when two weeks later he entered through the same door again. Nonetheless, not lucky enough, since he arrived the only day your shift ended early.

“One whiskey served over ice, please.”

You didn’t realize he was there until you heard that scratchy voice, the one you thought you’d never have the pleasure of hearing again. Your head jerked up and you didn’t miss a beat before gladly serving him— there was no way you were leaving without interacting with the older man, regardless of how small and brief the action was. It was a Greek tragedy in your eyes: saying goodbye to the back of the head of the attractive man in his thirties. You jokingly (but not really) warned your coworker to not make a move on the man; and, of course, you asked him to update you the next day if he mentioned you even just once. The next day (or rather, night), the first thing you obviously did was pester your friend to spill all the juicy, if any, details.

“I don’t know, he didn’t really say anything. He so checked you out when you left, though. Like— okay, maybe not check you out, but he definitely stared at you for a few seconds.”

You deflated. Anyone else would’ve cheered, but all you needed to hear was the first part; your friend had the poor tendency of overanalyzing and exaggerating every small detail— you learned that when, after some customers had a lousy argument, you both recounted the event to your boss during your monthly coffee session. What had probably happened was that the man merely breathed in your direction and your coworker’s eyes jumped out of their sockets. You brushed away your discontent, though, reminding yourself of your principles: you never hooked up with customers, especially since your boss was adamant about that after an incident with another bartender, and you didn’t want to endure new job interviews for as long as you could.

But the rush made you want to have fun with this guy.

Another entire month went by; no sign of mystery guy, no whiskey served over ice. No drops of your stomach, until one evening you couldn’t believe your eyes when you saw that beautiful mess of a man, a scratch on his forehead you didn’t think much about since you’d seen much weirder things, sat in front of you. “Would you look at that! We meet once again,” He smirked. You placed your hand on your hip, biting your lip.

“Thought I’d never see you again. Tell me, do you want to try out something different tonight, or your boring, usual—”

“—whiskey served over ice. Yeah, please.”

Whiskey served over ice was quickly becoming your favorite order.

You didn’t exchange any other words— you were too engulfed into the breaking news playing on the flatscreen: a poor quality clip— something that still occurred even if it wasn’t 2005 anymore— of Spider-Man stopping a truck before it crashed into a hurt kid in the middle of the street. You grabbed the remote control and boosted the volume a bit, deciding you could perhaps multitask for a while. “So,” You started while maintaining your attention on the screen, catching his own. “You ever met Spider-Man?”

An odd question which made him snort as he turned his head to watch the screen. “No, not really. Wouldn’t want to, though, he’s kinda overrated.”

Your eyes went round, and you had to unstick your view from the TV to search for any sign of playfulness in the man’s face. He seemed dead serious. “Overrated? Full offense, but I can’t let you say that about Spidey, an actual superhero.”

He rolled his eyes, amused and defensively holding up one hand. “I’m just tired after hearing about him for the last twenty years. Can’t believe he’s not going around with a walking stick yet.”

You returned to your previous position, your forearms resting on the counter as you continued to observe a recap on a football game of the night before. “Yeah, I won���t argue against you on that. I remember watching him swing on TV back when I was seven-years-old. Big part of my childhood, the guy.”

He inclined closer to you, his brows drawn together. “What’s your age?”

“Twenty-nine.”

He let out an ‘oof’. You would’ve been insulted if it weren’t for the exaggeration in his tone. “You’re getting old. Soon you’ll be complaining about how much your back hurts and wishing for the sweet release of death.”

You chuckled, eyeing his appearance. “Ah, well, too bad because I already do that. How old are you? You’re acting like you’re sixty when in reality you’re probably just like forty, or something.”

“Eh, close,” He grinned, and then took a deep breath. “I’m thirty-seven.”

“And you’re calling me old?!” You exclaimed, earning a laugh from him. “You’re basically almost on your deathbed. Age doesn’t hold me back, though.” You winked jokingly and he bit his lip, his eyebrows raised.

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, you know— more experienced, sometimes wiser, sometimes more of a gentleman…” You mused, drawing patterns on the bar. You didn’t notice him giving you a once-over. Someone called for your attention, and you let out a disappointed sigh, pouting at him. “Gotta go! Duty calls.”

“Have fun,” He raised his drink, bowing his head. As you walked away, you allowed your face to pale with terror and you began to wonder if the air-conditioning suddenly malfunctioned, for you were too heated for your comfort. You took as much time as you could with the rest of the clients, too frightened to face the man after your shameless flirts, dreading the repercussions. But you were finishing the preparation of a mojito, wishing you could down it yourself, when he lifted his empty glass and whistled at you. You nervously glared at him, motioning for him to wait before you served the finished beverage to its rightful owner and you met him once again.

“Tell me,” You began as you poured the liquid in his cup, trying to change the subject and mask your trembling hands. “I’m tired of thinking of you as the whiskey man. What’s your name?”

He let out a short laugh, thanking you before he took ahold of his drink. “Peter. Peter… B… Parker,” He moved his head along to each word and you sang out an impressed ‘ooh’.

“Peter B. Parker. Catchy. Giving me some boy band vibes.”

“Boy band vibes?”

“Yeah, like, ‘pretty boy in a band who’s a total teenage heartthrob’ type of vibes. You definitely fit the description.” Goddammit, you did it again. Just this once, you wished, just this once shutting your mouth would make everything easier for you.

Peter, his face finally having a name, licked his lips after sipping the alcohol. “So you think I’m pretty?” He inquired, a crooked smile on his face. You were good at holding back the tingling that wanted to suffocate your cheeks, the way you wished you could with your words. You hummed, surveying him quickly.

"Well, I did say you were handsome last time, didn't I?"

"Yeah— yeah, I remember that," He squinted his eyes, pointing his finger at you. "And you're...”

“Y/N.”

“Well, Y/N…” He took his phone out from his back pocket and frowned down at it with concern. “Can you help me? There’s something wrong with my phone— it doesn’t have your number in it.”

Oh, my God.

You glanced down at his cracked screen and then back up at his face. Snorting so loudly it hurt your nose, your hand flew up to cover your mouth. “Oh, my God. I’m sorry, I’m just—” You pinched the bridge of your nose, wheezing. “I can’t believe you just did that. That was so cheesy, oh my God.”

“Are you gonna fix it or not, though?” He smirked, offering you his device. “‘Cause it’s a real problem.”

He got your number. After you returned his cell phone, you noticed his yet again empty glass, wondering how he downed it in just the time you were adding your phone number to his contacts. You grabbed it and poured more ice, seeing as the previous had already melted. “Since you successfully made me want to walk away from you and stroll around the place to try and heal myself after that awfully cheesy pickup line, this next round is on the house.” You declared as you opened the bottle of whiskey. He declined, emphasizing his refusal with the flutter of his hand.

“That’s not necessary.”

“Whatever, I’m gonna do it anyway,” You slid the alcoholic beverage towards him, and his eyes softened along with his entire face, too.

“Thanks.”

Your conversation continued the entire night. You talked non stop— so much that you might have forgotten about the existence of other customers. But it didn’t matter. Despite their annoyed expressions, it was worth it. You heard the story you had so desperately yearned for him to tell; he reminisced about his dead aunt and uncle— the lovely angels who raised him and the ones he looked up to the most. But your heart cried out when Peter sorrowfully stared into his whiskey, and you first heard the name. MJ. His ex-wife. The owner of his love for the longest time, the woman who crushed him a year ago. The one whose heart he broke, too, though, all because he was too terrified, too much of a wimp to take the next step, ‘not enough’, he said. You remained silent, realizing your flirtatious exchanges earlier were solely a way to muffle Mary Jane’s memory in his mind. Nevertheless, your hand reassuringly rubbed his shoulder, the action alone speaking the comfort he needed.

It wasn’t the last time it happened. After that, he began to show up at the bar more frequently, once a week. And whenever he did come, he left until your shift neared its end.

“Like, what type of father would I even be? Look at me!” Peter pointed at his head, stirring the whiskey with a finger of his other hand. “I’m a mess, I can’t even take care of myself— how could I take care of a child?! I just… I don’t have the time,” He sighed, laying his head atop the bar. You frowned as you prepared a second margarita for the mother of one of your classmates from high school, which was what initiated the conversation of parenthood and such in the first place.

You shrugged, aggressively rattling the shaker with your two hands. “I don’t know, maybe you’re underestimating yourself,” He peered up at you, doubt in his expression. “And you do have the time to come here every week, though,” You pointed out, wiggling your arms from how sore they were.

“Yeah, but you’re… this is different, this is…” He slurred, waving his hand. “Whatever. Work always ruins things for me. It has ever since I was a little tot.”

“Damn, what is your work?”

Peter began to gulp down his entire drink after your question and seconds later slammed it on the table with wide eyes, attempting to digest the liquor. He cleared his throat, rubbing his eyes. “It’s… it’s, uh, I-I work at the Daily Bugle.” You opened your mouth with astonishment, stopping in the midst of rubbing a lime on the rim of the glass.

“The Daily Bugle?” You asked incredulously. “That one newspaper with the dude who’s obsessed with Spider-Man? J-something-Jameson?”

“Yeah… yeah, that’s my boss.”

You grimaced, instantly comprehending his daily fatigue and he nodded, agreeing with you. “What do you do? Write?”

“Nah, I’m a photographer.”

“Ooh, so you’re a photographer? That’s hot,” Moments ago he’d been complaining about his marital issues yet there you were, calling Peter hot. You might have slipped the compliment right before you left to give the margarita to your ex-classmate’s mom in fear of his response, therefore missing the faint heat that overwhelmed his cheeks and ears. 

“Is… it’s nothing, really,” He dismissed your words, being all humble and shit. You placed your elbows on the counter, coming closer to him.

“Could I ever see any of your pictures?”

He threw a block of ice into his mouth. “Mm, thure,” He said, his mouth full. Your mouth twitched in amusement, and you decided to sit down considering the night was particularly slow. Your boss lectured all the time that there was never time to sit down and there was always something to do; keeping that in mind, you still ignored the four dirty glasses, instead choosing to spend time paying attention to the man with ice in his mouth. “I’m boring, though— tell me more about yourself. There’s gotta be more to the attractive barista who works at the bar near my apartment.”

You were taken aback, both by the fact that he considered you were good-looking and that he was pushing to hear about you. “Me?” You blinked. He nodded, looking at you expectantly. You lowered your head, picking at the skin around your nails— damn past you for cursing you with the habit and, consequently, terrible nails as well. “This is… weird. I don’t really talk to customers about my life. They even tell us to not do that specifically.” You laughed.

“What? Why?”

“Well, because you don’t want to hear about me: my childhood and the drama in my life, I guess,” You said with an obvious look. He scrunched his brows together.

“But I do.”

You despised the way your heart missed a beat. “Alright, well… I don’t know, what do you want to hear about?”

“Were you born here? In New York?”

You shook your head. “Nah, I moved here after finishing college. I thought I was gonna be a successful artist and stuff.”

Peter gasped with wonder. “Artist?! Cool! What, what type of artist?”

“I paint,” He whispered an adorable ‘whoaa’ and your shoulders shook with laughter. “It’s really not that cool. I do paintings once in a while. Pays well and can help with the bills if someone buys them.”

“I’d buy many if I had the money.” 

“Nah, I would paint you one for free,” You smirked, leaning closer to him.

“Oh, sweet— you can paint me naked. You know, like one of your french girls.” He hummed, a goofy grin breaking out on his face. You quirked a brow, giggling.

“That’d be interesting.”

“I know, I’d be a great muse. Tell me more, though, you got any friends? Family?”

You hesitantly nodded. “Yeah, except they’re all back home. The only people I’ve got here are at the bar, my boss basically adopted the few people who work here.”

“Wish my boss was like that,” He grumbled, grasping more ice. “Well, now you’re stuck with me too, though.”

You gripped your knee, your lips pressed together to retain the beam threatening to appear. “Is that so?” The ice he had shoved into his mouth was too big for him to speak without drooling all over his chin; so with his chipmunk cheeks, he moved his head up and down. “Is this us officially becoming friends?” You waggled your brows teasingly, your lips now stretching widely.

“I thought that happened the second you gave me a free round of drinks.”

Three more months passed by. You realized your nights weren’t a blur anymore. No— now they were Peter B. Parker, his weary brown eyes, and his whiskey served over ice. You couldn’t help the scrunch of your nose and your slight smile whenever someone else ordered whiskey, since, as ridiculous you knew it was, those words were Peter. You held yourself back each night you two shared from leaning over the bar and tasting the cold liquor in his tongue. You wondered if, perhaps, that’s what Peter Parker tasted like. But it didn’t matter how strongly you craved to find out; you couldn't be anything more than a friend to your customers, you constantly reminded yourself. Not that it even was a possibility with Peter, anyway— it was evident he still cared about Mary Jane. It was clear she lingered in the fog of his memory, despite how much he drank or how hard you attempted to take her place with every conversation. You tried to convince yourself that it was alright, and it wasn’t working, but you hoped someday it would.

It was a Saturday night— or more like the early hours of Sunday— when you went to joyfully take Peter’s order after he sat down, only to be met with an awful bruise on the bridge of his nose. You winced, unconsciously reaching out to touch his face, but drawing your hand back before he noticed. “Pete, what the fuck happened to your face?”

“That’s not a nice thing to say about someone.” He simply responded, evidently trying to disguise the swelling with his hand, but sighed after seeing your scowl. “Fine, it’s embarrassing. Like… really, really embarrassing—”

“I’m listening.”

He squirmed, his gaze moving to his right and his voice coming out high pitched as he searched for a way to explain himself. “I tripped.”

Something you’d learned throughout the past months of weekly meetings with Peter Parker was that the man was not subtle. Far from it. And this wasn’t the first time he arrived with a scratch or sort of bruise, which truly clutched at your stomach in the wrong way, but although he’d talk about anything— from what he ate for breakfast that day to confessing a pestering fear in his head, he never ever talked about how or why he got hurt. He always managed to steer away from the subject; the sneaky bastard, you���d think to yourself when minutes later you two were thoroughly discussing the best ways to eat an egg. You never budged, though, for you couldn’t bear to lose his trust or him getting mad at you; which hadn’t occurred yet, and you wished to keep it that way. You questioned your decision, however, as you grabbed the box of bandaids hiding under the counter (the bartenders there could frequently be quite clumsy), and grasped one with your fingers. You opened it, detaching the paper from it.

“It’s really nothing,” He continued insisting, trying to erase the creases between your eyebrows. “I just gave the ground a real nice smooch—” He stopped talking when you leaned over to touch his face, your hand cupping his cheek as you smoothed the plaster over his nose.

“I… what?”

“Sorry, it just looked really gross,” You lied, truthfully concerned about his well-being. “You couldn’t go around walking like that.”

“But I can go around walking with a…” He inspected his reflection on the cupboards, squinting to make out the pattern of the bandaid. “Spongebob bandaid on my face. And how is that supposed to heal a bruise?”

“I’m sorry—”

“No, it’s alright. I… I like Spongebob. One whiskey served over ice, though, please.”

You scoffed, picking up a glass from the cabinet. “I’ve held myself back from asking, but…” You shut your mouth as you continued preparing his drink, doubt winning its battle again. He tilted his head.

“But?”

“But… how come you’re always getting hurt in some way? It’s kind of concerning,” You laughed nervously, not wanting to reveal how much it truly worried you. He shrugged one shoulder.

“I guess I’m just really clumsy.”

“This isn’t clumsy, though,” You argued, your forehead furrowed. “This is… getting beat up type of stuff. Is that it? Do you get into street fights or something?”

“No! No, I, uh…” He hesitated, avoiding your gaze. “That’s not it.”

“Then what is it?”

Peter searched for words, his mouth ajar. He closed it and rolled his lips. “I want to tell you, I really do, but now is not the time. I promise I will in the future.”

You prepared to question him more, until a tune filled your ears. You raised your hands up to your head, your palms squeezing your temples as you gasped. Peter raised an eyebrow, entertained. “I fucking love this song,” You explained as ‘I Wanna Dance With Somebody’ by Whitney Houston played on the TV. Peter sat still as he paid attention to the music, confusion glinting in his eyes until he recognized the melody and his body lit up.

“Wait, so do I—”

“Clock strikes upon the hour, and the sun begins to fade…” You shouted, your head jerked back. Peter put his fist against his mouth, embarrassed by your hilariously terrible singing, but at the same time holding himself back from joining you in your performance. “Still enough time to figure out how to chase my blues away!” You sang, pointing your finger at him. He muttered an ‘ohmygod’ under his breath, his face beet red.

“I’ve done enough ‘till now, it’s the light of day that shows me how!” You dramatically laid back on the counter, true singer-like style, holding an imaginary microphone up to your mouth. “And when the night falls, loneliness calls…” You turned your head to face Peter and booped his nose, an action which you would undeniably regret once the euphoria of hearing one of your favorite songs ended.

“Ah, fuck it…” He whispered, beaming at you and grabbing your fist to sing into the invisible mic as well. “Oh! I wanna dance with somebody! I wanna feel the heat with somebody!” He cried out, his eyes passionately closed and his hand pressed flat against his chest. You scream-laughed at him, holding your torso. However, you quickly rolled onto your stomach, your faces now in close proximity.

“Yeah! I wanna dance with somebody! With somebody who loves me!” You both sung into your clenched hand, incredibly out of tune. “Oh! I want to dance with somebody!”

“I wanna feel the heat with somebody...” A customer in the background yelled out. You two exploded with laughter, your head pressed against his cheek and Peter gripping your hand tight.

That night, you sang with somebody you loved.

The end of the year arrived too quickly, and you were disconnecting the plug of the Christmas lights adorning the windows of the bar as you wondered whether you should get Peter a present for the holidays or not. Some new sweatpants, you considered; they were his favorite piece of clothing, you had come to learn, and in the times that he wore a pair, you noticed it was always the same. But you also questioned if it would be bizarre to hand him a gift— you only saw each other at the bar, after all. There weren't any instances where he called you to meet up for lunch, or something similar; and once in a while, you hoped to hear your blaring ringtone and to answer your phone to him. That never happened, though; your relationship would never evolve from the occasional text throughout the week. To make matters worse, you hadn’t even seen him for three weeks, three days, and counting. And, my God, did it sadden you that you knew that. Every time you’d type a greeting along with a question about his whereabouts, you’d stare at the screen of your cell phone for far too long and eventually delete your words— the exact process repeating over and over again. Maybe he’s with his friends or remaining family, you concluded. Hanukkah did end yesterday, stop being so obsessive.

A knock on the door provoked a startled squeak out of you. You jerked your head, confused, because who in the world was knocking on the door at three o’clock in the morning? Your terror was fleeting, however, for behind the foggy glass existed Peter B. Parker’s guilty smile. You exhaled and headed to open the door to shelter him from the violent and raging winter wind outside. He barged in, the tip of his nose the color of raspberries, most likely a repercussion of his poor clothing coverage for the season. “Hey,” He greeted you, rubbing his hands together.

“Wow, I think you got here a little too late,” You teased, folding your arms across your chest. The bags under his eyes were particularly prominent that night, not that it surprised you in any shape or form. He leaned against the wall, resting the back of his head on the timber.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” He apologized and you shook your head. It was useless. You were aware that there was no chance you could be mad at him for finally visiting you; in fact, you were ridiculously elated to be seeing him at such late hours, in spite of your bed crying out for your company. “I guess I lost track of time.”

“What are you doing here, anyway? I haven’t seen you for three weeks and when you do show up, it’s at three A.M.”

“I don’t… know.” You quirked a brow, wondering if he’d had a few too many drinks. “I sort of just walked and my feet got me here.”

“Are you drunk? And did you get in a bar fight or something, because you’ve got a bruise forming under your jaw and it looks too animalistic to be a hickey,” You asked with a gesture of your hand toward his face, relieved the jealousy didn’t bleed through your voice if the latter turned out to be more than a mere speculation. The scarlet on his nose spread to his cheeks. “I hope not, because that would mean you cheated on me by going to another bar.”

He chuckled, rubbing a hand over his stubble. “Nah, I wouldn’t ever do that to you.” You walked up to him and patted his shoulder, congratulating him for his great response but also to move him away from the window to check if it was closed. “I’m just tired.”

“Long day?”

“Awfully long.”

You still didn’t get an answer to why he was out so late, but you didn’t have the energy to continue budging. “Yeah, same.” You whispered, lifting a chair to place it upside down on a table.

“Wanna talk about it?” You looked at him confused. “Your day?”

“I would, but, uh, I kinda have to close this place. Y'know, it’s the holidays, so we’re not open 24/7 because my boss likes spending time with her family,” You explained, hearing his understanding hums. “Everyone already left and I didn’t have anything to do, so I promised her I would do it for her.”

He moved to stand opposite to you and copied your actions of setting the chairs atop the table. “That’s not safe— you being here alone, I mean. I can help!” He offered, as if a random spike of energy flourished in him.

Your brows drew together. “Shouldn’t you go home?”

He paused in the midst of reversing a seat, the furniture cradled in his chest like a baby. “Yeah, but so should you. It won’t hurt to sacrifice one hour of sleep just to help a friend,” He smirked, shrugging.

You allowed him to give you a hand in arranging the place, not that you had much of a choice, anyway; he would’ve done it nonetheless despite your refusals. Thirty minutes later, you were standing outside, your body aching tremendously. Peter noticed your soreness and, before you could even react, he was lowering the roll-up gate. “I could’ve helped with that,” You mumbled as he wiped his hands on his sweatpants. “Don’t want you breaking your back, grandpa.”

He laughed, shoving his hands inside his jacket’s pockets. “I’m a cute grandpa, though, right?” He asked with a flirty smile. You rolled your eyes.

“Hm, yeah, a total gilf.”

“Gilf?”

“Yeah, you know, like a ‘dilf’ but instead of a dad it’s a grandpa.” You both giggled as you began to walk to who knows where, visible breaths leaving your mouths like small dragons puffing out smoke. 

You stopped in your tracks, gripping the straps of your backpack tightly. “Oh snap, I forgot!” He turned around with a questioning brow. “My car broke down, so I have to take the subway back home.” You explained, nudging your head back at the green stairs heading down to the metro station. He tilted his head, frowning.

“Y/N, it’s four in the morning. I don’t think going to the subway this late is such a smart idea.”

You rocked on your heels. “Yeah, but… how else am I gonna get home? You want me to sleep in the bar?”

His gaze shifted as he pondered, grunting. “Do you, uh… do you want to go to my place?”

Your stomach clenched, your heart starting a run when you heard his suggestion. He doesn’t mean it that way, you idiot,  you scolded yourself. Yet you wished he did. “...Your place?”

“Yeah, it’s just a few blocks away from here, like a ten-minute walk.” There was a prolonged silence as you entered deep in thought, making him panic and stutter. “T-that’s if you want to, though. Don’t want you to feel pressured—”

“No, Pete, I…” You stopped him, grinning. “I mean, you sure?”

“Yeah,” He clapped his hands and held them together up to his chest. “Why not?”

“I guess I’ll take you up on that offer.”

“Cool! Uh, cool.. just… c’mon,” He pointed his thumb over his shoulder and you began your trek to his apartment, your shoes thudding lightly against the concrete of the sidewalk, wet due to the rain two hours ago.

“Thanks…” You started, wiggling your fingers, numb from the bitter cold, but to wake yourself up as well. “I actually am sort of terrified of taking the train, so I’m glad you offered. I’ll sleep on the couch, don’t worry—”

“What? No! No, I’ll take the couch, you’re the guest.”

“No, no, no, I insist—”

“Y/N.” You looked up at him, a teasing smile on his face. “You keep the bed. Plus, the change of place will be nice.” You groaned, your eyes closed.

“You’re such a great dude: offering me to sleep at your place so I don’t get mugged and shit, and here I am, stealing your probably comfy bed.” You then moaned, your eyes going blank. “Bed. God, just thinking about sleeping really turns me on right now.”

He huffed softly, bumping into your side. “What… what’s happened, though? We haven’t seen each other for a hot minute.”

You looked heavenward, your mouth ajar as you tried to recall your previous three weeks. “Mm, well, I honestly can’t even remember if I had breakfast or not— oh!” You exclaimed rather sleepily. “Well, this pretty boy working at a Taco Bell I went to asked me out on a date.”

“Oh?” He scrunched his brows together and you hummed. “And what did you say?”

“No.”

“No?! Why not?”

“I just…” Your eyes darted up to his curious ones, your face softening after inspecting him for a while, but not long enough to embarrass yourself. “I don’t know. Wasn’t feeling him, y’know?” He nodded comprehensively. “What ‘bout you?”

His entire mood shifted. His shoulders slumped, and he nibbled on his bottom lip, his jaw tightened. “I… I saw MJ today.” Your heart broke.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Wh-what, like, you two met somewhere?”

“No, more like ‘saw her coming out of the coffee shop while crossing the street and then a pedestrian yelled at me because I was standing in the way’.” He grumbled. You didn’t know what got in you, but you grabbed his hand and squeezed it. He glanced down at your linked hands and then up at you. That’s when you instantly let go, your pinkies still connected for a bit until completely detaching. You were too busy ogling the ground to see his fingers searching for yours.

“You’ll be alright one day,” You cleared your throat, a bashful smile on your face. “You’ll figure this out.”

He prevented you from continuing with your walk with a hand on your shoulder. You hesitantly turned your body to face him, gulping. Oh, no— you worried, your heart picking up its pace again— did the hand holding make him uncomfortable? Is he now gonna question me? Why am I such a damn idiot? But then you saw his dilated pupils, and your mouth went dry. “I…” He began.

“You… okay?” You questioned when his stare lingered on you. He blinked, his arm dropping by his side as he coughed.

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry, that was weird. I’m just—”

“—tired.” You finished for him and he scoffed, giving you a half-smile.

“Wow, you know me so well,” He joked, and scratched the back of his neck, pointing at the building you two stood in front of. “Uh, this is where I live.”

“Oh!” You spun around, studying the apartment complex. It appeared simple: not too big or small, modest-looking. “That was faster than I expected.”

“Yeah…” He muttered as he climbed up the stairs, holding the door open for you when he reached the top.

The man’s apartment was tiny, somewhat too messy, you decided; there was an empty pizza box on his bed, and he awkwardly dumped it in the trash can when you two walked in, apologizing for the mess. You sat on his bed and he stood at your feet, stroking his neck. "Do you want some clothes? I can give you a shirt or some—” You stopped him when he turned to go to his dresser, gently pulling his arm. “What?” You continued to wordlessly tug on his sleeve until he sat next to you, sighing deeply. Slowly, you leaned backwards until your back bounced on his mattress. Peter’s confused by your actions, but you simply patted the area behind him. He got the message and lied down on the rumpled sheets. 

You looked at each other, a few inches apart, yet for some odd reason, you felt closer to him. Perhaps you could blame the different location, or the way in which your silent gazes stayed on each other. Somehow, you were both alright with it. No discomfort took ahold of either of you as you remained like that for a while, no words or sounds other than the city outside, both later with your eyes closed. To your embarrassment, you were on the brink of dozing off, but you couldn’t help it; you drowned in tranquility, and the exhaustion of your body cooperated— it was surprising you hadn’t fallen asleep yet. You could hear Peter’s steady breathing, and his voice brought you back to consciousness when he spoke. “Y/N?” It was soft, softer than your pillows back at home. Softer than your lonesome bed. You acknowledged him with a mumble, opening one eyelid. His eyes were almost shut, but you could still see the glimmer in his dark eyes. His whiskey eyes. “You’re really nice.”

Your eyes sealed closed again. “You’re really nice too, Pete.”

“No, but…” His sentence died out and he did not continue for a long period. You believed he had fallen into a slumber until he talked again. “You’re really nice. Like that hot chocolate I had in the morning while I was freezing type of nice.”

“I… I don’t know if it’s because I’m about to pass out, but I don’t get it.” When you blinked your eyes as wide as you could, he was closer than before. Closer than ever. You took the chance to discover, note every part of his face more closely, every freckle, every lash, his growing stubble. Everything.

“What I mean is that… you really bring warmth to my life, Y/N. Not to sound too cheesy like I usually do, or anything. But everything’s a mess and you’re there, and I’m glad about that.”

“You’re just tired.”

“Yes, but a drunk man’s words are a sober man’s thoughts.”

“You’re not drunk.”

“There’s really no difference.”

You could now feel his breath on your face. It was as if with every flicker of your eyelids, he had managed to inch nearer to your body. “Pete…”

“Y/N…” Your lips were roughly touching. You felt his arm slip around your waist, his fingers ghosting over your prickling back.

“We can’t do this.” You said, regardless of your hand cradling his neck. Your foreheads were now touching.

“Why not?”

“Because…” You tried to claim that he was your customer, but you truly did not care about it anymore, and you never did. “What about Mary Jane?”

He hesitated for a moment. “What about Mary Jane?”

“You still want her back.” You breathed out, your body quivering as his eyelashes tickled your cheeks.

“I can forget about her just tonight.”

You kissed. Your lips remained interlocked for a few moments, the both of you too tired to move them. It was like sixth-graders kissing for the first time— a lingering peck on the lips. But an energy sparked within you, and you moved your lips. Soon, you were on top of his body, your shirt almost completely off except for one of your arms still inside one sleeve, your fingers desperately tangled in his greying hair, his crooked nose bumping with yours. He didn’t taste like whiskey or ice, but he did taste like a year of laughing with each other in the bar, and him not noticing as you slowly fell for him.

[tickle-her-senseless]

Competition Time!

Hey all. Since we’re all trying to cope with a normal-length, chocolate-egg-free weekend, I’ve come up with a little diversion for you all. Below are SEVEN little tickle gifs, featuring the right hand of yours truly 👋🏼 See if you can match each one with the seven tickle spots listed! Some are easy, some a little trickier...

1.

2.

3.

4.

5.

6.

7.

Tickle spots:

A: Tummy

B: Belly button

C: Sole

D: Under the toes

E: Underarm

F: Ribs

G: Back of the knee

Answers can be set out in a reblog, and the first five 100% correct sets of answers will be entitled to request one of:

A custom “tickling hand” gif (for the lees out there)

A picture or short clip/gif featuring your choice of one of my own (SFW!!) tickle spots (for the lers out there)

A teasy self-tickle gif (for my fellow switches/greedy bastards)

should they so wish. I’ll contact the winners via PM. Good luck and happy guessing - hope nobody gets too triggered by these 😈

[clickbait-david]

Ignored - David Dobrik Imagine

summary: In which david manages to ignore y/n due to being so intensely focused on the vlog

word count: 1,519

warnings?: the smallest bit of angst?

a/n: hey gif is not mine also this imagine can be read on my wattpad as well

It was something you were used to, the feeling of when David would get zoned entirely out by a vlog that he seemed to forget you exist solely. But it still hurts you nonetheless whenever it happened.

You usually wouldn't even realise it at first until you would ask him to go out for lunch and all you would get is a hand wave to back off in response or when you would try to speak, and he would non-purposefully snap saying something you knew he didn't really mean.

Today had been a rough one though, waking up in a large bed alone thinking he was still there with you to only reach out and feel the other side of the bed empty. Leaving his room you were met with an empty house, Natalie and David being nowhere in sight and it wasn't until you saw a note from Natalie that you knew what was happening.

'Hey y/n, had to go out to grab some groceries and I believe David was going out to film some vlog footage. Someone should hopefully be home soon - Natalie xx.'

You had been thankful that Natalie had written a note for you, although you were slightly gutted because you had previously spoken to David about going out for breakfast and then possibly doing some things in LA. But when David leaves for vlog footage, you would have no clue what time he would be coming home, and who would be with him.

It wasn't until 12pm, a couple hours later that Natalie had arrived back home a car full of groceries which you helped her carry into the house and still no sight from David. Although you had seen David's face in the background of one of Zane's Instagram stories which you had ironically come across.

It wasn't till a couple more hours later that your boyfriend had come home, heading straight for his bedroom before situating himself on the couch laptop on his lap as he began editing a vlog.

"Hey babe, what time did you leave this morning," You asked sitting beside him hoping to get even a small conversation out of him.

"mmm, early" He shrugged his eyes not leaving the screen as a clip of him speaking into his camera began playing, which you had seen him record the day before.

"Seeing as though we missed out on breakfast, want to grab dinner out tonight," You asked hopefully, placing a hand on his shoulder a couple minutes later as you hadn't gotten a response. "You going to answer me," You asked a bit coldly.

"Y/n I'm fucking busy right now, please just can you go somewhere else. Maybe read a book or something" He snapped, a frown on his features as he went back to his laptop, leaving you with a sad look on your face as you got up and moved yourself to his bedroom deciding to grab your own laptop and do some work yourself.

Yet as you stared at the screen you couldn't help but overwhelm yourself with thoughts, getting to the point where you had tears in your eyes as you laugh at yourself and realised how much of a crybaby you were being. "Geeez, Y/n you're better than this," You said deciding work wasn't helping, and so you decided to take a shower to calm yourself down hopefully.

Using a loofah and the lavender scented body wash you used daily you began scrubbing at your skin, feeling somewhat calm as the water flowed down your body and rinsed you from the suds. You stood in the shower for a few extra minutes, not wanting to leave the warm water but alas you knew you had to get out eventually.

Drying yourself off you wrapped yourself in your towel before walking out and grabbing some fresh underwear and clothes to change into.

It was now around 4pm, and you had decided that you gave David enough time to chill off and walked out to the living room to see the most of the vlog squad all laid out on the couches and everyone speaking and having what looked like a good time.

"Hey y/n" You heard Zane call out as you gave him a wave and sat on the end of one of the couches, lucky there was a spot there anyway.

To be completely honest the last thing you really wanted to do was have to be social with the whole group, all you really wanted was to sit down with David and be honest with how you were feeling right now.

So you sat there somewhat listening into there conversation and replying when anyone would say something to you, but mostly you were in your thoughts, and it wasn't until a comment was made that you didn't realise how obvious you were being.

"Y/n you all good there, you look like your lost in your thoughts," Toddy said as you gave him a small smile.

"I'm fine just a little tired," You said as a yawn was leaving your mouth not long after as they all nodded and started a new conversation which you weren't paying much attention to.

- - -

It seemed as when the time was nearing 6pm no one was nearing to going home, and you began to feel the intense hungriness grow, seeing as you hadn't eaten anything since breakfast you were hoping to have Dinner a bit earlier than usual.

Not wanting to make a scene or interrupt anyone's conversation you had decided to send David a message even though he was only on the other side of the room.

To David:

Are we doing anything for dinner? Read.

You could see him staring at his phone and by the looks of his eyes rolling and him placing his phone on the table you knew he wasn't going to reply and to be honest, you were sick of his shit.

"Guys sorry to be such a bummer but I need to get back to my place, so I'll see you all later" You said before walking back to David's room and grabbing a few things before walking back out to the living room and saying goodbyes to the group before leaving deciding if David didn't want to treat you properly you wouldn't be staying.

without a single word or goodbye from David, you had left walking to your car and going before you broke down in his driveway.

Staying at your apartment and not David's place was always weird to you, as most of the time you spent your nights in David's sheets his arms wrapped around you.

It wasn't till around 11 that you had heard anything from David and to be completely honest you didn't assume that he'd even try and contact you.

From David:

I'm sorry. Read

I was the biggest dick today, and you didn't deserve it. Read

Please come back to mine, and I'll make it up to you. Read

To David:

I just need a break tonight. You really hurt me today. Read

I'll talk to you in the morning. Read

From David.

Okay, I'm sorry sweetheart. Read

Goodnight, I love you. Read

To David.

I love you too. Read

As much as he hurt you occasionally, you always needed him to know that you loved him.

- - -

The next morning you had woken up early, having only eaten a peanut butter sandwich when you got home, your appetite mostly lost and all you wanted to do was sleep.

As you awoke in your small apartment alone, it felt weird, and you had missed the comfort of David, this being the second morning in a row you had woken without him.

A knock on the door shocked you though as you looked at the alarm clock on your bedside table and realised it was only 9am, so getting up and putting on a fluffy dressing gown you owned you walked to the front door having an idea who it may be.

Your assumptions were right as you opened the door and were met by David standing with a sorry look on his face and a dozen roses which he held out for you."Gorgeous girl I'm so sorry, I am genuinely the biggest dick ever, and you deserve so much better" He said as you stood with your arms crossed.

"Dave, I can't handle you letting out all your stress on me whenever it builds up. I can't do that anymore" You sighed as he nodded and promised he wouldn't anymore.

"Come back to mine" He begged and as upset as you had been with him you had missed him and really wanted to back to his.

"Only if you let me shower here, and then we go out to breakfast," You said a small smile on your lips as he nodded and you walked to the shower as he sat on the couch.

"I love you," He said as you were about to enter your bedroom before you turned around and faced him.

"Love you more," You said.