#its always either too blurry or too crisp or too much work to do.. its so frustrating

[dexaroth]

hrrrrng painting is fun but ill die if i dont have every light and color in a separate layer

[simlicious]

Hi, I’m loving the advent so far! How do you get your patterns to look so natural? Whenever I make patterns I either get these crusty lines at the edges of some channels where one channel bleeds into the other. Or, I get these super sharp unnatural edges on them that never look any good. Teach me your magic please lol.

Thank you so much for the compliment :) I made a fancy tutorial, because more people might be interested in this topic!

There are a few things you can do to solve color bleed and crusty lines while making the Sims 3 patterns. These tips are for Photoshop and the TSR Workshop pattern tool, though they also work for Delphy's pattern tool. The EA CAP tool compresses its image files automatically, so you have no control over it afaik. Save your textures uncompressed! Most of your problem should be solved by saving your images in an uncompressed DDS file format (depending on what DDS plugin you use, it "8.8.8.8 argb 32bpp unsigned" or, in newer versions, "8.8.8.8 bgra 32bpp unsigned". This is an image of the newer dds plugin export dialog with the settings I use:

This reduces blockiness and color bleed significantly! Note: For maximum visual clarity and the sake of our eyes, starting from now, I will show just the contents of the individual color channels of the image, specifically green and blue. If you click on a single color channel in Photoshop, it will be represented in greyscale. My screenshots therefore also represent a single color channel and do not show how the colors interact with each other. I thought it would be distracting and hard to see if I presented everything in color and this tutorial is not about how to build a pattern, but how to get crisp outlines and the best possible quality.

What is the issue with compressed textures? EA's pattern textures are DDS files that use DXT compression (DXT1 for non-alpha/5 for alpha images, BC1/3 in the newer plugin). If you save your image as a compressed DDS file and reopen it, you will notice that certain areas are blocky/blotchy. That is because lightness and color information is not retained for every pixel, but areas get grouped together in a more or less chessboard-like fashion. In this first example, I increased the contrast to make these compression artifacts more visible so you can see what's going on: Notice the grey blocky areas?

These cause color bleed in the final pattern and the textures look blurry or washed out. EA's textures have this issue too, because they use compression. In some patterns, the effect is less noticeable than in others, but compressed files will always have a reduced image quality compared to the original image. Deciding to go with uncompressed textures was essential for me to achieve the quality I offer. I reasoned that the patterns are only 256px in size and the performance impact should not be very noticeable. I once made a survey in which I asked whether my patterns cause performance issues, and most said they did not, so I stuck with it.

You could test it out for yourself and decide! If you want to continue to use compression, make sure to change the quality of the compression algorithm to get the best possible result. In the screenshot I posted at the beginning of the tutorial, you can see that I set it to "highest" instead of the usual default "fastest", though this is not really needed if you save uncompressed files. The old DDS plugin used on older Photoshop versions also has that setting, it is just a bit more obscure. I do not have that anymore so I cannot say where exactly. Is it a bug? Lines all around the edges of some channels could also be a Photoshop bug*. This was a regular occurring bug in older versions (before CC 2020 or so.) The issue was that when you scaled down or sometimes even just saved an image that was not just the background layer but had stuff on other layers, there would be a faint line around the whole image. Suuuper annoying! *clarification: It's not an official bug, but a lot of people get annoyed by it. I still had this happen to me with the current 2023 Photoshop version when using bicubic (sharper) on an image with layers, but I do feel there are less problems with saving layered images now. Idk, this might be "feature quirk" after all... Anyway, to avoid the faint lines around your image, follow these tips: Using the bilinear mode when reducing an image's size helps, as does flattening the image before image reduction or file export. I like to create a copy of the entire document using the shortcuts ctrl+shift+alt+e to make sure it appears flattened without actually flattening everything. You could also paste the flattened copy into a new document, merge it down and export the dds file from there. Just try what works best for you. Retaining maximum quality on resizing Most images need to be resized to the pattern size, or you might have made a larger pattern and want that in smaller sizes. You may never have paid much attention to the settings in that image size dialogue, but it holds some key elements to make sure your pattern comes out in the best way possible! Per default, the resizing mode that is used by Photoshop to make an image smaller is "bicubic (sharper)". This mode has a sharpening algorithm that causes halos if the pixels are not white or black, which can create unwanted effects such as white outlines around grey pixels, or grey ones around black areas. Note: even if you have the "bicubic (automatic)" setting, it will still use the "bicubic (sharper)" if you reduce the image size! Let me show you an example: Below, you can see a comparison of bicubic (sharper) reduction vs bilinear reduction. The channel with the black and white checkers has some greyish edges after using bicubic (sharper), which can cause the texture to become unwantedly transparent in these areas, making the colors become muddled in these areas. Using bilinear or nearest neighbor modes (the latter is great for very geometric, crisp shapes), the result is very clean.

This is why do not recommend to use the bicubic algorithm on your textures. Go for bilinear and nearest neighbor modes, these are perfect for patterns. I do any sharpening of the channels in a more controlled way later.

The best way to sharpen your texture To make the textures look as crisp as possible, you immediately think about the "unsharp mask" feature, right? This might not be your best option though!

If you have a white shape on a black background with a rim of dark grey pixels around it and you want to make it crisp and want that dark grey outline to disappear, unsharp mask will actually do a pretty good job, because it mainly targets those grey pixels and there is nothing to lighten or darken on pure white or pure black. But if you have a lot of grey tones, the algorithm "attacks" a lot in your image, depending on how you set your radius in the options dialogue. Most of the time, the radius is set to a small number, for sharpening details, but it creates a problem for us in the form of halos/bright or dark rims around shapes.

I like to increase the contrast of the individual channels to make the image appear sharper without those halo effects that the "unsharp mask " feature often creates. I love to use the "levels" tool for adjusting the contrast, I use it all the time! I have grey pixels as a starting point and then applied an aggressive "unsharp mask" (strength 100, radius: 1px) to it so you can see the effect. The results are bright halos around the shapes. This will make the edges of the shapes more opaque on the final pattern and can look strange! On very delicate lines, this might be what you want, but for larger areas, this is less desirable.

Sharpening without actually sharpening

Instead of using "unsharp mask", I like to increase the contrast of the individual channels to make the image appear sharper entirely without those halo effects that the "unsharp mask " feature often creates. I love to use the "levels" tool for adjusting the contrast, I use it all the time!

On this layer, I have some intricate shapes, which should appear fully opaque. The are already bright white, but the edges are a bit too soft right now to get a truly crisp result, so I use the "levels" tool to increase the contrast and make the edges crisper. You can also use the curves tool for this, but I find the levels tool a bit more intuitive for this process! The curves tool gives you even more control over pixel values and lets you adjust them individually, which can be great, but for the purpose of creating controlled contrast, the levels tool will suffice.

By moving the marked sliders towards the middle, the contrast is increased. This also works nicely on grey pixels without creating the halo problem.

Another use for the levels tool in this context is to control the thickness of your shapes by moving the middle slider too, like this:

Final words "Levels" is your friend when adjusting contrast and making things sharper. In some cases, "unsharp mask" or other sharpened options can create a desired effect, such as on more realistic textures such as carpet/fabric textures, wood and stone, where you might want these halos to increase the depth of details. There is always a right time to use any tool, so if levels alone do not give the effect you desire, by all means, give "unsharp mask" a go! Experiment, and find the best way for you. The biggest gain in quality will come from saving in an uncompressed format though. Thanks for reading through the tutorial, I hope it was helpful!

[tiffdawg]

Two Halves | A Javier Peña x Reader Oneshot

Gif: @bestintheparsec​

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader (fem; no y/n)

Word Count: 2.1k

Rating: T | Warnings: A dash of angst but only to make the fluff sweeter. Alcohol. 

Request: Part of the 500 Celebration! @jigglemiwa requested 49 (You’re the best part of me) or 42 (You keep that photo of us in your wallet?) from this list with Javier Peña. I thought these were great prompts so I used both! Thank you for the request – this was so much fun to write!

A/N: This is so soft y’all. I was blushing while I wrote it. 

Read on AO3

My Masterlist

… . …

Two Halves

It was like any other night after a long day of work. You were at the usual bar a few blocks away from the embassy apartment complex with a warming glass of tequila cradled between your hands. Javier sat next to you, his discarded jacket thrown over the back of his barstool, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and tie hanging loose around his neck. He looked as tired and disheveled as you felt.

It was a quiet evening, both in the bar where a few other patrons milled about, nursing drinks and chatting idly with whoever would listen, and between you and your partner. Or, former partner. That was what made that night unique: it was your last night together in Bogotá.

Now that the Cali Cartel had folded in on itself, the DEA’s presence in Colombia was downsizing and most attachés were transferring elsewhere. You had a lucrative offer for a position in Mexico. And yet, you were wavering as an inexplicable bout of indecision kept you from making a final call about your future. You’d thought that the last day of work would bring some sense of closure or light a fire under you that would make your decision easier. But it hadn’t. Even then, as you traced the rim of your glass, you couldn’t make up your mind. You were much too busy stealing glances at the man sitting next to you.

As for Javier Peña, his job was done, and he was going home. When he asked you to grab a drink with him that night, you’d expected he would be in a bit of a celebratory spirit. Instead, he was in one of his introspective moods, preferring to sit quietly next to you as he lost himself in his own mind. You doubted he’d ever admit it, but you knew he preferred to have someone by his side, even in moments like that. And if you were being honest with yourself, so did you – especially if it was him.

So, the two of you fell into an old, familiar silence broken only by a deep baritone crooning in Spanish that crackled softy through an old radio behind the bar. You weren’t paying close enough attention to make out the lyrics but if you had to guess, he was probably singing about love. They always were. 

Javier sighed at the last sip of tequila in his glass before downing it. As if he’d been waiting for his cue, the bartender appeared and asked if he wanted another round. Javier turned to you with a raised brow.

You finished off the last of your drink and set your empty glass next to his. You’d had a couple of drinks over as many hours. You could get away with one more. “Why not?” 

While the bartender made your drinks, you watched Javier as he leaned against the counter, head held in one hand as he traced the veins of the wood with the pad of his finger. He’d been contemplating something the entire night and had yet to work out a solution to his problem. And it weighed heavily on his mind. You couldn’t figure out what was bothering him so much. His job was over. That heavy burden he’d been carrying around for years had been lifted from his shoulders and he was free from the DEA. Even if he’d never said it out loud before, you knew that was what he wanted deep down. He should’ve been happy.

Just as you opened your mouth to ask him what was wrong, a pair of drinks were placed in front you. You thanked the bartender and pulled your glass toward you. As always, Javier reached for his wallet to pay the tab. And, as always, you tried to stop him.

“Javi, you don’t–” 

“I want to,” he insisted, cutting you off before you could protest, “It’s our last night out together, cariño.”

Your cheeks warmed at his favorite name for you. It never seemed to lose its effect on you. Of course, you would’ve preferred it if he meant its true sentiment. And while you didn’t want to admit to yourself that it was the last night you would spend with him, he was finally talking, so you tried to make light of the situation. “Can you believe that? That it’s all over?”

He only shook his head, his face pinching in a slight scowl, as he counted out the correct payment and a generous tip. As he sorted through his cash, something fell from between two crisp bills. You recognized it immediately: it was a photo strip from an old camera booth. The film was faded and bent, well-worn and maybe even well loved. As if It had been hidden away in his wallet for a while, but repeatedly handled. In fact, you could’ve guessed just how long he’d been carrying it around down to the day.

“You keep those photos of us in your wallet?” you asked, your voice not quite hiding your disbelief, as you gently picked up the photo strip. It was a lost memory from one drunken night out when the two of you were trying to unwind after a particularly bad day. In each of the two frames, the two of you were grinning. First, happily at the camera – or, at least, in the general direction of the camera – and then at each other. 

“I just– I like to look at it sometimes. When, you know–” Javier stumbled, clearly caught off guard. “It’s stupid.” 

“No, it’s not,” you assured. You tore your eyes from your smiling faces in the photos to look at him, silently pleading for him to continue with a careful hand on his arm.

He faltered for a moment, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he finally spoke. “It helps when you’re not around. I don’t know what I’m going to do without you keeping me in line all the time. Sometimes I look at you and I– I know what I need to do.” He finally looked at you, his dark eyes shining with some new emotion. “You make me want to be better. Hell, you’re the best part of me.” 

“Javi,” you sighed as you blinked away the unwanted tears blurring your vision. 

“I know I shouldn’t say that–”

“No. No, you don’t understand.” The two of you regarded each other for a drawn-out breath. He watched you carefully, waiting for you to explain, as you racked your brain for the right words. Coming up short, you swallowed hard and tried a different approach. “Can I show you something?”

His brows furrowed adorably at you and you resisted the urge to laugh. Reaching for your purse, you took your own wallet and shuffled through the crumpled bills until you found what you were searching for.

You gingerly set the last two frames of the photo strip on the counter, aligning the torn edge perfectly with Javier’s photos to complete the picture. “I like to keep you close too,” you said softly. “Sometimes I– I need you.” 

Javier’s expression shifted into some mix of shock and awe that looked rather foreign on him as he considered your statement and the completed photo strip laid out before him. In the back of your mind, you’d always wondered if the torn edge on yours matched with a second set of photos. Together, the four frames told the story of one stolen moment as it unfolded between the two of you. In an almost reverent gesture, he picked up your half and ran his thumb over the last frame. It was a blurry black and white photo of him cradling your face as he pressed his lips to yours.

“I kissed you?” he asked breathlessly.

“Apparently,” you said with a nervous laugh that was more of a sigh. “Don’t feel bad. We’d had a few too many that night. I don’t remember it either.”

“I wish I did,” he mumbled. When he faced you again, he almost looked hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was scared,” you answered with a shrug. “I didn’t know if you remembered. And if you did, you never said anything about it, so I thought you might’ve wanted to forget.”

“Cariño, I don’t think you understand,” he sighed, running a hand over his mouth as he placed your half under his again before turning his body toward yours. “I’ve been sitting here all night trying to figure out how to tell you that I love you.”

The chill that ran down your spine was followed by the sweetest warmth spreading from your chest throughout your body. And the tiniest oh escaped past your parted lips at his confession. “I think you just did.”

“I guess so,” he beamed as a look of relief washed over him. “I love you,” he said easily.

“I love you too, Javier,” you promised, finally speaking those words aloud to him you’d felt in your heart for so long.

You both moved at the same instant, leaning in to crash your lips together in a long-awaited second kiss. One neither of you would forget. As his hands cupped your face to hold you near, your lips came together and pulled apart again and again, you smiled into his kiss at the thought that the two of you must’ve looked just as you did in that photo you cherished so much.

“What?” he asked, leaning away just enough to look at you.

“Nothing. I’m just really happy,” you said wetly. You’d wanted that – wanted him – for so long. You’d all but resigned yourself to the idea that the photo of a kiss you didn’t remember was the closest you’d ever get to the real thing. But the real thing was so much better than you ever could’ve imagined. “I’m always happy when I’m with you.”

“I know what you mean.” When he spoke next, his tone shifted to something more serious. “Wherever you go next, I’ll follow.” Javier knew about your job offer. You’d attempted to solicit his advice about it on numerous occasions. Only then did his reluctance to help you make sense. “I just want to be with you, mi amor.”

You knew he was sincere. You heard it in his steady voice. Saw it in his determined eyes. And felt it in your heart. There would be no separating the two of you now. As you took in the tired lines of his handsome face, you knew exactly what you wanted the future to look like for the both of you. All of your doubt and indecision faded away as you finally allowed yourself to ask for what you wanted most. 

“I want out,” you admitted with an exhausted exhalation. “I don’t want to go to Mexico or anywhere else they might try to send me. I want to go home, Javi. I want to go home with you.”

Without another word, he picked up the two halves of the photo strip and tucked them both safely in his wallet. For some reason, you doubted you would get yours back. Then he stood and held out a hand to you. “Let’s get out of here.”

“That’s not what I meant,” you teased, rolling your eyes even as you slipped your hand into his.

“I know what you meant,” he scoffed as he led you out of the bar and toward. “We have plans to make. Together.”

“I like the sound of that,” you said around a smile as you leaned into his side.

“Although,” Javier drawled as he stopped walking and pulled you into him with two strong hands on your hips, “We definitely need to make up for lost time.” He nuzzled his nose against yours before capturing your bottom lip between his plush ones. It was a kiss so soft and slow it made you dizzy. He was intoxicating in a whole new way. Better than the finest alcohol. And you’d happily drink him in as long as you could.

“I think we can multitask,” you quipped, in between heated kisses. He hummed his agreement but made no move to part from you. The two of you stayed like that for a long time, kissing under the golden beam of a streetlight on a quiet road in Bogotá. It would’ve made for a lovely photograph.

In the end, you never got your half of the photo back from him. But it didn’t matter. Years later, that photo strip sat framed on the nightstand next to your shared bed with a single piece of clear tape forever mending the two halves.

... . ...

Thank you for reading!

Forever Tags: @leo-moon @readsalot73 @frietiemeloen @huliabitch @jerusomeeno @benedrylcumbersnatch @b0n-chann @scapricciatello @liadamerondjarin

[s-k-y-w-a-l-k-e-r]

My GIF making process!

I’ve been asked many times for a tutorial, but because I get really detailed, I always get overwhelmed by the idea. But I finally decided to buckle down! 

Just so you know: I don’t use PSDs in this, and I don’t import layers to frames or anything like that. I like the hard way—at least in gif making, I believe you get higher quality gifs. Join me as I show you how to make gifs by loading videos directly into the Photoshop timeline and my coloring and sharpening techniques.

Tools used:

Mac OS X (only necessary for the first step, and there are other ways around it with a PC)

Adobe Photoshop

YouTube Purchases (any streaming service will work)

Topics covered:

Obtaining the Source Material

Loading the video file into Photoshop

Prepping, Cropping, and Resizing the Media

Adjustment Layers

Sharpening

Exporting

Obtaining the Source Material

There are a few different methods for obtaining video to work with. Proper YouTube videos are nice, but finding any major motion picture in that format is difficult, if not illegal.

Once I realized I could get really great quality video by doing screen recordings from streaming services, I stopped worrying about finding (and pirating) high resolution video files. So now, I just go to whichever streaming service I need to, pick out the movie or show, find the spot, and record small snippets.

Mac screen recording instructions:

On a Mac, Command+Shift+5 will bring up the screen recording dialogue. 

Resize the frame of what you want to record within the browser. 

Go to a second or two before, press the “record” button, and then begin playing the video, remembering to keep your cursor out of the recording box. 

Use the Space bar to pause your video when you’ve gotten the snippet you need. Stop the screen recording by clicking the ⏹ button that is in your menu bar at the top of the screen.

Important: when the recording appears in the bottom right of your screen, click on it, and then trim the video on either end. This will help your computer convert the video file to the type that can be opened by Photoshop.

Click “done” and it will appear on your desktop, ready to be used!

PC Users: ??? Here’s a Google search I did for you

 Loading the video file into Photoshop

Lots of people use this process for making gifs (a great tutorial!). I didn’t even know it existed until last summer, when I’d already been giffing for years. I wish I could still do something like that with these screen recordings, but the files are absolutely HUGE, especially on Macs with double retina displays, which actually increase the dpi by a lot. Making screencaps of them fills up my hard drive, almost immediately—even when I’ve got 20 gigs of free space to work with. So what do we do? We just. Open the file. In Photoshop. Et voila!

You can do this with any type of video, not just screen recordings.

 Prepping, Cropping, and Resizing the Media

When Photoshop loads your videos up, it makes the video hilariously fast (something about frame conversion). You must slow it down for it to look natural. THIS MUST BE DONE BEFORE YOU RESZE. Your Photoshop timeline window should be at the bottom of the screen. See that little triangle in the top right of the video? 

Click on it, and a menu will appear to change speed and duration.

Change the speed first- usually between 80-85% will seem realistic. (I actually went a little faster than I usually would on this at almost 86%—I don’t recommend this)

Press the button next to duration and pull the toggle all the way to the far right (if you don’t do this, full length of the video will be cut off).

Now you’ll want to crop it. Ever since Tumblr upped its GIF size limit, I have been playing around with 7:5 ratios, but let’s go with 3:2 for now. Use the Crop tool, pick out 3:2 in the top left (it may say 2:3, but you can switch that) and then find the most suitable spot in your gif for that. Hit enter on your keyboard.

Some things to keep in mind when cropping:

Most videos come in 16:9 ratio (BoRhap is even wider). If it’s a wide shot, you’ll need to do the full 16:9 to not lose anything. Of course, experiment and find what’s right for you!

As you can see above, I moved forward in the timeline and made the crop to a point in the video when the broadest movement was happening.

Certain videos WILL have a black or red bar that may be imperceptible until you’ve already exported the gif. Just crop in a little tighter on top and bottom to avoid them.

Now you’ll need to resize your gif to be the correct size for Tumblr. If you don’t use Tumblr’s exact dimensions, your gifs (as uploaded) will appear blurry or pixellated. We’re doing a full-width gif here, which is 540px. On a Mac, I use Command+Option+I (for “Image Size) to open the resize dialogue. You can also find it under Image->Image size...

Make sure to also have “Resample” checked. Lately I’ve been playing around to see if different options are better. Most GIF makers use “Bicubic Sharper (Reduction)” and they are not wrong to do so. I’ve just been unhappy with it lately, so I have been trying this other setting out, “Bicubic (smooth gradients)”.

Click OK. A dialogue may come up that asks if you want to convert to a Smart Object. The answer is yes, okay, do it. The only major caveat is that you can’t go back and change the timeline speed. That’s why we did it first. But you can preview the speed now that it’s smaller, and if you don’t like it, use Command+Z (or “Undo”) and go back a couple steps to get the speed you like.

You may find, especially on a Mac screen (and possibly other displays), that at 100% your gif looks too small to be 540px. That is the curse and blessing of working with super-high resolution hardware. Zoom in to 200% and proceed about your business. This is what it will look like on Tumblr.

You may find it helpful at this point to begin by defining the beginning and end of your gif by moving around these bumpers. It’s safe to keep gifs under 02:00f in length. Under half of 01:00f will be way too short. (I tend to overshoot in length and then trim the beginning and the end once I see how big the gifs are upon exporting.)

 Adjustment Layers

Now the creativity and fun begin!

There are a LOT of ways to get creative here. I’m going to keep it simple, very simple, but I strongly recommend opening up a new adjustment layer of each type and trying to figure out what each does!

You’ll find the adjustment layer menu at the bottom of the Layers window.

Curves

There are a lot of ways to make Curves work for you! It can do the job of Brightness/Contrast, it can do Levels, it can do Color Balance! We’re going to use it mainly to help with brightness here, but also to level out some of the tones. One of the quick tricks you can do is use the droppers on the left side of the Properties window. There are three- one with a white tip, one gray, one black. These can help define what your white tones are (and whether they need to be more of one color or another), and so on with your blacks. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t; in this case, I think it doesn’t:

That looks totally blown out and somehow also too dark!

So instead, we’re going to use that little hand with the finger pointing out and some arrows pointing up and down. This lets you define which sections you want to get brighter or darker, and how much. It doesn’t do color correction. In the example below, you can see I dragged up on a white spot and down on a dark spot. Then, I moved points around on the curve itself to refine (which the gif here doesn’t show...).

Vibrance/Saturation x2

Next, I’ve been using @gwil-lee​‘s Vibrance/Saturation trick (I know you said you learned it from someone else, but I learned it from you!). 

Create a Vibrance Adjustment layer, bump the values up a bunch, and then change its Fill to somewhere between 2-9%. Change the Blend Mode to Color Burn. Then make a copy of that layer keeping everything the same, but make it Color Dodge. I can’t quite define what these do, but it makes it punchier!

Color Balance

Most people are familiar with this. For this gif, I’m going to make the shadows more Cyan/Blue and the highlights more Red/Yellow. Just a few points each. 

Exposure

I brought the Exposure up a bit, but not enough for you to need to read about, haha.

Selective Color

Here’s where you make fine adjustments to colors. This particular scene is extremely simple, color-wise, so keep it simple. I’m going to bump up the cyans/blues, take up the black by just a point or two, and maybe bump up the yellows and reds a tiny bit. (And as always, remember, the “opposite” of cyan is red, the opposite of magenta is green, and the opposite of yellow is blue. CMY/RGB!)

I think at this point I’m going to call it with the adjustment layers. You can go absolutely hogwild with more of them! But at this point, I’m ready to start sharpening!

 Sharpening

I do three sharpening filters these days. These are all under Filter->Sharpen. Make sure your media layer (default called Layer 1) is selected as we go through this! (Also, this can really take a toll on your processor, so don’t say I didn’t warn you.)

Sharpen- This layer does the basic job

Smart Sharpen (Amount: 10%, Radius: 10, Reduce Noise: 4% Gaussian Blur)- This layer gives texture

Smart Sharpen (Amount: 500, Radius: 0.3, Reduce Noise: 12% Gaussian Blur)- This layer gives refined sharpening and smoothing

Fiddle with these as needed! Let your gif play all the way through- this may go slowly as your processor works on it. Make sure the beginning and end points make sense.

 Exporting

After You’re going to have to use File->Export->Save For Web (Legacy)... or use the shortcut of Shift+Option+Command+S. This could take some time for the dialogue to pop up! Be patient.

In my opinion, these are the best gif export settings for crisp edges and no noise:

Now you see how big the file is in the bottom left. Tumblr won’t let you upload anything bigger than 10MB and it’s safer to stay under 9MB, in my experience. When your gif is too big, you have a couple options. You can close the dialogue and change the length of your gif. 

OR, you can uncheck “Interlaced” and bump up the lossy to 1 or or more. This will create noise. Sometimes, that’s a good thing!

Here’s without lossy:

Here’s WITH lossy: (Honestly in a fast moving gif like this, it’s almost imperceptible, but I can see it!)

And now that I’ve exported, I can see what there’s a little black line on the bottom! So I’m going to trim that off and call it good! You can see the full gifset here.

Hope you enjoyed! Reblog if you try this out or learned anything. Feel free to reach out with questions any time!

[diamond-blush]

An anon had asked me about how I made my Taran gifset, so I just decided to make a quick post about my GIF making process in general. This is my first time doing a tutorial like this, so sorry if anything is unclear ;; 

Quick Note: I’m using Photoshop 2020, so if you’re using a different version some things might be different!

Now on to the tutorial!

GW2Hook

I personally use GW2Hook for my game. It really enhances the graphics and is very easy to use once you get the hang of it! For installation and usage, I recommend Tekkit’s guide here. (Skip to 2:25 if you just want to know how to install). Be sure to read the pinned comment for download instructions!

Recording

I record my footage with Nvidia ShadowPlay, which from my knowledge only works with a Nvidia video card, but any free recording software works just fine (A good one is Dxtory; I used it for years). I prefer ShadowPlay because of the option to record the last 5 minutes (you can make the time longer) of gameplay with its Instant Replay feature (lifesaver for me because I get distracted a lot and forget to hit record lmao). Once I’ve got my footage, I import it to Photoshop.

Importing into Photoshop

A lot of people use the File > Import > Video Frames to layers method to import their images because it immediately converts them to frames. Since I like to make adjustments to my layers before I convert them, I prefer using the video timeline method. Basically you drag and drop your video into Photoshop and it’ll show up as a video timeline like below:

Here I trim my footage to where I want it to begin and end, and then I use the Crop Tool to crop it down to a smaller size. I usually use 540px width for my gifs because otherwise Tumblr makes them super blurry, but it depends on what type of gifset you’re making. I use the GIF sizing guide here. (Note that the new GIF size limit is 8mb now, not 3mb).

Smart Filters

As I mentioned before, I prefer the timeline method because it makes adding adjustments to footage super easy. When you drag your video directly into Photoshop as a video timeline, it automatically turns your video into a Smart Object. This basically allows you to make any edits to your footage without the fear of messing anything up! As shown below, each effect, or Smart Filter, you add is listed under your Smart Object.

Here’s a quick breakdown of Smart Filter Options:

hides/shows your filter.

Lets you adjust the opacity of your filter. Great if you want to tone down a filter’s effects.

Double clicking a Smart Filter’s name (I.E. Smart Sharpen) lets you go back into that filter’s settings and make changes.

See? With no damage to your original image/video!

Adjustments

I try to do most of my coloring ingame with GW2Hook, but I do like using Curves to add more contrast and Exposure to change highlights and midtones.

Filters/Adjustments I often use for GIFs are Smart Sharpen, Gaussian blur, and sometimes Lens Correction. I add Smart Sharpen first to make my image more crisp. Next I use Gaussian blur, which I set to between 25-35% (sometimes more, depends on the image/gif) opacity to add a little bit of smoothness. I use Lens correction whenever I want to add a vignette effect. Usually after adding the latter two Smart Filters I go back and adjust Smart Sharpen.

Converting to GIF

Once I’m satisfied with my adjustments, I’m ready to convert my video to a frame animation. I click on the three lines icon (located on top right of timeline) and then hover over the Convert Frames option. I click on these options in the following order: Flatten Frames into Clips, Make Frames From Clips, and Convert to Frame Animation. Like below:

This basically converts each frame of your video into layers, puts them into a frame sequence, and then converts your timeline into a frame animation as shown below:

For some reason the first two frames are always blank for me (not shown in above picture), but I just simply delete them.

Now I adjust my frame delay amount. This determines how fast or slow your gif is. You can do so by clicking on the numbers that show below each frame. For consistency, you should make sure all of your frames are selected (either shift + click the first and last frame, or go to the three line icon again and click on “select all frames”) before changing the delay amount.

Tip: use the up and down arrow keys to set the delay in the above window. Much quicker than typing!

I prefer using 0.03-0.05 because otherwise I find the gif is either too fast or too slow/choppy, but you should mess with it ‘till you find what you like.

I like to preview my GIF by going to File > Export > Save As Web (Legacy) and clicking the Preview button at the bottom left corner. This’ll open up a browser window that displays your GIF in all its sexy glory and its information (dimensions, size, # of frames, etc). Use this to test your GIF speed and adjust as needed!

If I feel satisfied with my GIF and it doesn’t exceed 8MB (Tumblr’s current GIF limit), I go back to the Save for Web window and hit Save (I usually don’t mess with the stuff on the right). If you do exceed the size limit, either reduce your frames (one method is to delete every second frame; however this makes the gif less fluid due to loss of frames) or tone down the colors.You can check your GIF size where the circle is.

Annnd that’s basically my GIF making process. Hope it helps someone!

[sugarcookiesandsins]

Charmed [Episode 2]

➰ ot7 x reader, poly!bts x reader, mafia!bts ➰ they wouldn’t notice her until she was standing above them, a smoking gun in her hand a bullet in their heart 🌡 M   🛑 heavy violence 🕛  4.1k+

Tag List: Please comment or send an ask to be added to the tag list!

@missseoulite @omgsuperstarg @slutkoo @asifetch7 @kawaiimusiccollection @namupeachs

As you made your way closer to the store, you realized that it was a furniture store. You wryly shook your head and cast a glance towards the ceiling - Fate was simply playing you at this point, but what did it matter? It had given you an opportunity, and may karma come for your ass if you did not take advantage of it. Glancing towards the entrance of the shop, you saw multiple women milling about with both eyes on the men and none on the products. Typical.

Resigning yourself to Fate once again, you made your way towards the entrance of the shop, promptly ignoring the stares from the women as they silently judged the clothing you wore and your messy-ish hair. You were nothing compared to their towering heels and fashionable apparel, garnished with shimmering jewels and manicured perfection. Still, you were there for two reasons, the boys whose location was obvious due to their deep baritones and for the furniture. Earlier you were considering getting something simple and easy, but why bother? This would be the longest mission to date, might as well make sure you were comfortable executing it. Making your way into the heart of the store, you pause to evaluate the options presented to customers regarding a general style. Despite your own partiality to your parent's home, you make your way towards the section the boys were in. 

The modern style never caught your fancy, its clean, sterile characteristics reminding you too main of hospitals with its prying eyes and constant supervision. All-in-all, the style reminded you of things you didn't like, but for now, you could pretend. Ignoring most other things, you made your way, towards the same section, worker in tow as you rattled off questions about price, shipping, and quality.

Hoseok and Jin both noticed the girl who walked around them but didn't seem to care about their presence. It was easy enough to ignore the gaggle of women outside the shop, the twittering was something easy to get used to. Besides, those women would never dare to approach either of them while not under the strobe lights of their nightly haunt. Demin was a nightclub famous both for its "private" shows and its clientele. It was where Taehyung worked most often, honing his skills with the women much too eager to experience a night in his bed. 

[JHS]

The first time I saw her was near the couches, standing next to one that was whiter than the clouds on a clear day. The metal detailing reflected the light of the store. She was dressed in the latest fashion, as was everyone, but she seemed to not be comfortable in it. She was playing a part in an elaborate play.

For a second, I wondered if Jin and I were involved in this play she was the star of. But it couldn’t be. She seemed to not care about the presence of others, not even the employee flocking around her with his feathers all askew. Her eyes were focused on the furniture, calculating and cold as they traced the curves and angles of each piece before her. It was almost hard to not see the gear ticking away in her head and see absorbed information.

Matching eyes with Jin, I slightly tilted my head in her direction, raising an eyebrow. And all I got back was a neutral shrug. So even he recognized something in her but couldn’t determine what it was that felt off.

In a way she reminded me of Jungkook, and I don’t think that if she met him, she would take it as a complement. She moved with the same tense grace that he did, a faked state of relaxation. Though I doubt she had gone through the same thing that he did; even I didn’t know all the details, but all the boys agreed that his father was the only one not worth fighting for.

We all hated the man, not only for what he did to Jungkook, but for what he did to Jimin. Somehow the asshole had gotten his hands on Jimin who was taught to fight both alongside and against his best friend. They were the best of friends, yet they also knew the secret to the other’s downfall.  

After a particularly expensive selection of a glass and metal breakfast table, the boys were even more intrigued. You did not seem to be rich, far from it, but the speed with which you selected items certainly made you seem so. Neither did you carry the air of someone with vast amounts of wealth. They were the most obvious; it always astounded them how someone could never get tired of talking about money.

With the attitude of someone who had other places to be, you swept out of the shop in mere moments, followed by wandering eyes and the attention of two very prominent mafia members.

Were you disappointed at the lack of interaction? Yes. But never would you have taken the initiative to start a conversation with them. It would have blown your 'disinterested' facade to pieces in seconds. Still, you were not a blind woman and you could clearly see their interaction thanks to the mirrors that decorated the store - they had spotted you and you had their attention.

From this you learned three things you could add to the files:

Neither Hoseok nor Jin were quick to initiate interaction. In alignment with their training, they waited until that person became a target or they felt reassured about that person's background.

Compared to some of the others, they were not partial to socialization outside of work. Even Jin, their conversationalist, would not deviate to satisfy personal curiosity.

And what is possibly the most important of them all, they were preparing for someone's arrival. Whose? A name wasn't mentioned, but it was almost certainly a male if she had heard the pronouns correctly.

Again, you were back to the counting. You assumed that the habit had come from your mother, a mathematician with more numbers than letters running through in that brain of hers. There was something calming about having a constant in your life. It seemed that with everything else being the way it was in your life, the predictable sequence of numbers grounded you to your fate. Your mantra was a list, your mind worked in logical numerics, anything you had some semblance of control overworked in numbers.

Walking away from the store, you made your way into another one, this time intending to collect a couple new outfits. Despite your new persona being Eli, you still would have some time to be yourself so it would do no good to rely on the same rags that had started tattering with use. 30 minutes later, you walked out of your favorite store with an outfit leaning on the expensive side of casual. A new pair of blue jeans hugged your legs and comfort was your priority with a graphic tee-shirt and a bomber-style jacket. Your old things were in a new backpack that you decided to splurge on.

Glancing out the window of the mall, you noticed night creeping in around the edges of buildings. The sky-colored itself hues of fire as the sun sunk into the horizon, twilight was a magical vision against the sight of the river in the distance. Deciding that you could spare a couple more moments in the mall, you made your way to the food court and took a seat along with a window with a perfect view of the skyline as it caressed the metal of buildings taking their grandeur from blurry reflections.

Hoseok and Jin made their way out of the furniture store after confirming the delivery of their shipment. Even they didn’t know what they were preparing for, but if the Boss said it, then no questions were necessary. After making up excuses for the ladies shameless enough to talk to them under the spotlights of the mall, they began making their way towards the entrance of the mall.

Together, in their crisp button-ups and polished shoes, they cut an imposing figure against the white of the walls. Hoseok couldn’t help but watch the people around him as he walked. It was less of a judgmental gaze than an evaluative one. He always looked for anyone that seemed to have something he could use. He oversaw business contacts in their 7-man crew, the communicator to other groups or with new clients that they saw as prospective. Thus, once again his eyes fell on your lone figure near the window, leaning on the palm of your hand as you watched the world outside, eyes reflecting the very scenery that you were looking at. Taunting orange ribbons dancing in your iris as you isolated yourself from the world just to watch twilight as it progressed.

In truth, no one knew what made him more qualified for his position than Seokjin or Taehyung, both boys also in charge of first encounters, but most surmised it was his face. Compared to Seokjin or Taehyung, it lacked that carved-marble appearance that intimidated others. Molded from chocolate, and with a 100-watt smile, he came off as approachable and sweet.

After seeing you in the furniture shops, both boys had forgotten about you. There was no reason for Hoseok to remember you, you were neither a target nor an informant to him. Still, the curiosity that had died down once you disappeared from his sight was back in full force as he saw a new side of you. In direct contrast to the woman negotiating prices in the store, and succeeding, here you were, quiet and pensive as you looked out the window. The object of your attention was just as much a mystery to him as you were. 

[KSJ]

Pulling out my phone, I shot a quick text to Namjoon telling him that all the new furniture had been obtained and was going to be shipped to the warehouse. Then, I contacted out driver so he would be outside the entrance by the time that we exited the mall. I didn’t like being out in the open for more time than was necessary. BigHit is rumored to have people everywhere but it’s better to be safe than sorry.

Taking a couple more steps, I realized that Hoseok was not behind me. He normally was just as strict as I was about being exposed so imagine my surprise when I turn and see him once again watching a girl.

That was twice in a day, and here I thought he wanted nothing to do with them.

“Hoseok,” I hissed. Looking closer, I realized that it was the same girl as before and that annoyed me.

He looked over and followed, but not before one last glance back at the girl. She had gotten his attention allright.

There really was nothing special about her. She was another civilian, a civilian that had unknowingly drawn eyes more than once, but she was still a civilian. She was of no use to us, especially with the way she kept her eyes on the sky outside.

Her head was in the clouds and ours were fated to be grounded. 

As the sunset, you cast your eyes down as the two male targets walked out of the entrance of the mall and into a waiting SUV, driven by another member of BTS. From this distance, and with the added challenge of sunglasses, it was difficult to identify who, but that didn’t matter to you. For now, you would leave them be as you focused on establishing Eli within the underground societies.

At the moment, the only idea you had was starting with petty theft and then consequently selling the acquired goods on the markets. From the memories you had with your parents, it was not hard to pick out conversations about your dad’s work. You vaguely remembered a case where, in a turn of events, your dad was on the side of the prosecution.

From the hushed conversations, all you could discern was that something important had been stolen and your dad was tasked with finding the person who did it. Logically, the best place to check would be the black markets as sales were kept behind closed doors. Some names had floated around your house, and you decided those would be your starting point; you had to find the best. After all, you were only going to be selling the best.

The question still remained: what would catch their eye? Initially, your thoughts strayed to the furniture they had bought today. Stealing something relatively big like that would certainly be noticed but the only issue was that you would need multiple people to assist. The setup you could probably do by yourself. It wouldn’t take much considering you were going to accepting a delivery from the same place probably on the same day. It wouldn’t be difficult to sneak in under the pretense of forgetting the day and while the worker was verifying with you, check out the order the boys placed in.

This made you pause for a second. The shop had two options for delivery. It could either go straight to the buyer’s house or it could be picked up from the store. You had no clue as to the option the boys picked, but if it was delivered to an address, then that address could be their residence, or at least the start of the breadcrumb trail right to their front door. It would give you such an advantage in the long-run. In the end, you decided, to keep that idea on the back burner. If they themselves gave you access to their house, then the furniture shop would be a waste of time. It was best to wait and see what happens.

With at least 3 people on the team, interception of the delivery and transfer of the packages wouldn’t be too difficult, but you were alone in Seoul. And there was no way you would be asking Maestro for help. You had begged him for this mission, and you would not be losing face by asking him for help. This was something you had to do alone. Besides, even if you did succeed, you yourself wouldn’t be noticed, the company would. Even then you doubted that BTS would bother to get too involved; they have enough money to just buy another set and pay a little extra to get it faster.

To get them to notice, really notice, what you took had to be something personal.

Then it hit you. Eli would be getting attention through pickpocketing, why not use the same strategy against the boys. There had to be a wallet, a card, or something that could find its way into your hand and then into the hands of an underground dealer. Especially, if it was something with their monogram on it. You had no doubt that even though the black markets retained independence, they were all scared to death of BigHit and that an immediate call would be placed to inform them of the missing valuables.

Recalling the two boys you had seen, you traced their figures in your mind to see if there was anything that you could recall. True, there was no need for anything distinguishing to exist - the boys were famous enough as it was - yet, you hoped that through bloodshed and death they still had a little sentimentality within them and that their fathers hadn’t snuffed that out, yet.

Sadly, nothing particularly popped out in your mental image of them, not that it mattered. You had a week or two to figure out the men that you were after. Turning the gold chain around on your wrist you caressed the notches lovingly. This was where their charms would hang, on the very bracelet that you took from your mom all those years ago. It would forever hand on your risk as a reminder to yourself and to others of exactly what you were capable of. You still hadn’t decided what charms would represent them, but that would become easier as you got to know them.

Or you could watch them when they were at their most venerable. When they were home after a long day and decide to let loose. As regimented as they were, they were still men in their prime. They should let loose somewhere, and if not in Demian, then at least in the privacy of their own home.

Suddenly, you found yourself second-guessing your decision to postpone your idea for using the shop. You always hated second-guessing yourself - it was indicative of weakness. Having second thoughts meant that you weren’t committed and a lack of commitment, though it may protect your heart, may not protect you. Besides, conviction is the difference between a good plan and a great plan on one hand, and on the other it causes small mistakes to magnify into train wrecks. If you had to choose only one thing to remember from your master’s teachings, it would be what he had written into your skin; ‘Commitment or Fear’. It was this tattoo that you traced pinpricked along the sliver of skin that molded to your skin above the edge of your panties as you still broke the law and thought.

You left the mall long after the sun sank beneath the horizon. Making your way home, you decided on a plan of action tomorrow. It would be the same for the next couple of days after that. You had to make face with the markets until yours was the name they thought of when it came to theft.

For the next three weeks, you slowly built a rapport with the minor crime bosses of Seoul. It was a difficult start, forcing yourself to take from innocents on the streets to help your own cause. Yet, it was a necessary evil in your mind and you satiated yourself with the idea that without BigHit they would be much safer as you snuck your hand into purses and back-pockets to retrieve wallets and valuables.

These stolen items you would turn-around and pawn off at black-market vendors who were all too happy to receive new goods. They too benefited from your transactions with them as it allowed a wider clientele to enter their doors, those that avoided the vault at the back of the shop and stayed at the front counters to purchase simpler items like luxury watches or id cards.

Soon enough, Eli was a common enough name whispered around the black market circles. It was never spoken with much feeling behind it other than admiration when the feeling was involved. It had spread pretty far, but what you didn't account for was who Eli's myth spread to.

[MYG]

We had been called into the head office today; a rarity but not an impossibility considering how we were still working for him. The pompous bastard liked to throw his weight around, but then again so did everyone in the company – throwing around weight creates fear as most didn’t even have enough to toss. We life and thrive on fear. Fear made people compliant. And from father to son and mother to daughter, everyone shared the same fears and everyone became compliant.

Walking into the office, it still struck me how he managed to make the same room look so different. Each leader had his own taste but they knew not to touch the sanctity of the office like he had. I hated him for it.

Still, what he said surprised me. They were words of praise for someone other than himself; Eli. He had come and taken Seoul by storm with the way he suddenly amassed wealth and called the pockets of citizens his coffers. No one knew where he came from or his past, he just showed up one day and asserted himself as the thief of the decade.

“-bring him in.” The tension in the room painfully shifted.

“Excuse me sir, but with all due respect I think-.” Namjoon tried to bring him to his senses and see the reason that they could not bring a random stranger so close to them, but the boss was the boss and he liked to show it.

“What you think is not relevant. You are to bring him in and I am going to hire him.” His face was annoyingly condescending, but we were bound to follow his orders.

With a short affirmation that he would get right on it, Namjoon led us all out of the office and down the stair back to our car.  

Walking out of the pawnshop, Eli stared up at the skyscrapers that towered over his form. It had been another successful day, with a thick wad of bills weighing down the pockets of his jacket. Today, Eli had decided to case out the business center of Seoul. It wasn’t difficult to make him obsolete among the crisp suits and pencils skirts despite standing out with ripped denim and a graphic tee.

The good thing about business people he had come to learn was that they never paid attention to their surroundings. Tunnel-vision ordained a singular viewpoint on their destination and most just glared at and obstruction in their path, not noticing that their pockets were significantly lighter or that the hands that prevented them from falling had taken more liberties than necessary for a task of that kind.

Stuffing your hands into your pockets, you thought about the future of Eli. He was quite well known at this point, not even the black-market pawns haggled with him on prices. What he said goes, and most trusted his reputation of being a fair source of goods. The only real issue had been the targets put on his back. Eli knew that some of the things he had stolen contained sensitive material - that only made the price higher in his eyes - and that this had caused many important people to start craving his head on a platter.

For this reason, when he had reached the crowded Gangnam district, he slipped into a noodle shop. Both because he was hungry and because he needed to change out of his wig and bandages. Sending a small nod at the owner - a woman who you came across with a vendetta against BigHit and decent enough credibility -, you snuck into the storage room at the back. Behind the cartons of vegetables lay a black duffle bag with all your supplies; make-up remover, bandage rolls, extra clothes, and your day-bag. All which Eli used to revert himself back into you.

Back at the front of the restaurant, the fabric door was held aside as a trio of men made their way into the store, each casting a piercing glance at the patrons of the humble noodle shop. The woman behind the counter bristled as she recognized the statues that graced her store - after all, who did not know these boys?

As she watched them hover at the entrance of her shop, the ma’am finally got the chance to study them. They were an intimidating bunch, refined with the kind of confidence that came from their skills and not their looks. Like few others, they had taught themselves the art of subtle patronization.

As she watched their eyes dart around the store, she finally realized that they were looking for the Ruffian. His true name she did not know, but he had made a deal with her concerning the back room of her shop and had been using it for a week or so. She did not know what exactly happened in that back room, but she suspected it had something to do with the (e/c)-ed woman that walked out soon after.

Half of her wanted to send her worker back to warn whoever was back there, but she decided against it. What she had heard from the Ruffian was vague, and before she gave either one her loyalty, she needed to see more about them. Thus, the only interaction she made was to bow respectfully towards them and offer them a seat, which they took with deception in their bones.

[thefangirlslair]

Free At Last (A Sasusaku One-Shot Fanfiction) x Purple Love VI

Note: Okay, okay. I know it’s been a while. I’ve been busy not being completely mental because of some stuff, and then this corona virus comes up and just messes up with my head furthermore. Ugh! Well, I hope you’re all safe and doing well. And of course, enjoy Sakura Day! It is our queen’s birthday, and I know i’ll never forgive myself if i don’t participate on her special day. So i hope you appreciate this one because i took a break from angst and tried a light and fluffy one. I am sO NERVOUS OMG thanks so much to everyone who keeps on reading these fics i have. Thank u thank u!!!

PS. This is also up on my ffnet! Let me know your thoughts! Again, Happy Birthday Uchiha Sakura!!!!!!!!!! MY QUEEN I LOB U

-

Excerpt:  This might be her second birthday since he knew her, first as her boyfriend, but he feels like he’s known her for a long time. He wants to be there on her birthday every year, forever, as long as she’ll have him.

--

SasuSaku Pairing (2,578 words)

A Poor Attempt at Writing Fics

Sasusaku Edition XXV

Free At Last

Not even grainy resolutions of webcam cameras and shitty internet connections can ever hide her wide-blown grin. May it be over a monitor, your smartphone or in person, Haruno Sakura’s smile will always be as beautiful as its owner. And it’s even much brighter now that her team is singing her happy birthday through her computer screen.

Boisterous laughter followed after all the singing because was that Lee-san who croaked that last note?

“That was awful, Eyebrows!”, laughed Naruto, some dramatic tears leaking from the corners of his happy blue eyes and his tongue slipping the familiar nickname outside work. “Was that you or you have a pet frog?” The addressed man cannot be seen beyond his webcam because he was busy lying under his desk because Sakura-san! I have failed to sing the best happy birthday song! Shame on me!

Almost choking on her drink, Tenten interrupted, “Hey Naruto, we’re still technically at work even though we’re working from home. Stop with the nicknames until later!”

“C’mon, buns! It’s not as if Boss is here to murder us with his glare! And it’s just another 10 minutes before our shift ends; we need to celebrate Sakura-chan's birthday at least!”, the blond whined as an answer.

“Aww, thanks so much guys!”, Sakura smiled. “Naruto, stop teasing Lee-san. And listen to Tenten, we still need to be professional while we’re still at work. I wish we are together at the office though! I would’ve loved to celebrate with you all, too.”

Another blue-eyed, blonde person answered. “Ugh, tell me about it. I’d rather be at the office right now and listen to Naruto’s obnoxious voice than be with a lazy ass and be bored out of my mind like someone over here..” Ino’s annoyed face and an even more annoyed voice rang through their earphones and speakers, noting the emphasis on some words about her boyfriend who rolled his eyes. In the background, you can hear Tenten’s Language!

They can all see Shikamaru, the boyfriend, who simply smirked, looked sideways at his workmate/girlfriend and lazily drawled, “You love this lazy ass.”

Series of ‘OHHHHHH’ can be heard from Kiba, Tenten and Naruto while Lee choked some more and laid again under his desk. Sakura just laughed at her best friend’s face because Ino was trying so hard not to blush that she covered her almost-red face and slapped Shikamaru’s arm at reach. Sakura even heard the man chuckled under his breath.

“Shika, you smooth fucker,” Kiba teased. “Teach us your ways!”

Tenten growled, “Inuzuka, if you don’t shut the fuck u-”

“Weren’t you the one who said to remain professional and mind our language while at work, Tenten-san?”, Lee’s head came up to peek onto the camera and asked his innocent question. He ducked again when the brunette’s eyes flashed for a second and escaped before she unleashes her rage on him.

Sakura’s laughter was light and happy, her green eyes sparkling with mirth. These people’s faces on her screen belong to not just her team at work but her friends. Her second family. Or maybe third? she thought.

They spend more than 40 hours a week together whether it be stressing over clients at work, drinking coffee at the pantry, pizza parlor visits after shift, and ice creams every payday. And now that she realized that it has been two long months since they worked from home, now at their last day of quarantine, let alone on her birthday, she misses them. Terribly so.

“I miss you guys. Really,” she said, her voice a bit lower than usual, which means she’s serious. Her friends saw it and immediately stopped their bickering. “I didn't have anyone before until Naruto and Ino came along. Then came Tenten, then Shikamaru... until Kiba and then lastly, Lee-san. It’s been 10 years since my first celebration with the blonds, but I feel like I’ve been celebrating it with all 7 of you ever since.” She smiled again, “Thank you for always being with me on my day.”

A few moments passed and finally, a chorus of incomprehensible words were heard through Sakura’s speakers because they all reacted at the same time:

“Sakura-chaaan! Don’t be sad! I’ll be sad too!”

“Cut... hik... cut the drama f-forehead! I d-.. I don’t want it!... hik...”

“Ah... now you want me to fall for you now, huh? Stop, damn it Sakura..”

“Girl, don’t touch my fucking heart like that. You already know we got you always.”

“SAKURA-SAAAAAAAAAN!!!”

Sakura watched it all with glowing eyes and a full heart. She looked one by one on their blurry little faces and she felt love just seep through her pores. She’s finally seeing them next week since the quarantine is finally over and there will be no need to hide from the pandemic that affected the rest of the world.

They’re still busy reeling over Sakura’s mini birthday speech and the rosette is overwhelmed with emotions when they heard Shikamaru asked, “Seven?”

“Huh?”, Sakura confusedly asked back.

“We’re only six here, excluding you, but you said ‘all 7 of you’ earlier.”

All eyes turned to her and she felt nervous. Crap, I slipped!

“Oh,” she started, nervously added an awkward laugh. “I meant six! I might be more tired than usual then. We had to talk to a lot of clients today anyway, right?”

She knew she didn’t convince Shikamaru and the rest of her friends, so she thanked all the deities she knew when her phone rang and Kakashi’s name flashed on her screen. She took it as an opportunity to escape more questions from them and so she said, “I gotta take this call, it’s my old high school teacher.”

She muted their audio of their conference call and opened the window of her emails instead to hide her screen and chat box. Sakura went to the balcony to answer the call.

Little did she know that she forgot to turn off her camera.

--

“Did you notice she was acting weird?”

“She absolutely did, right? She looked nervous earlier. Do you know something about this, Naruto?”

“No! She tells us everything but for the past few months, she’s been a little secretive, I think. It also doesn’t help that we’ve been in quarantine for 2 months! Is she still my best friend, Ino-chan?”

“First of all, I am her best friend and not you. And second, I agree. Ugh, this Forehead is making my head hurt!”

“Don’t judge Sakura-san! She’s a good friend! If she wants to tell us something, she will!”

“I don’t care about her secret or whatever, all I want to know where her house is because look at her room. So fucking huge!”

“That’s not her house, Kiba. Forehead said she’s staying at her mom’s friend because she’s alone at her apartment.”

“Yeah, Sakura-chan's room is much brighter and full of flowers! The room they gave her now is so boring, look! It’s either black or gray!”

“I wouldn’t mind. The size of that room is almost as big as my entire apartment. That bed looks something I want to break with Neji.”

“Tenten-san!! Control yourself!!!”

“Y’all are so noisy even in chat.”

“Shut up, ponytail!”

A movement from Sakura’s camera caught everyone’s attention. Her computer is located at the corner of the room so they could see a part of the queen size bed and has a direct view of the bedroom door. The knob turned and someone entered the room.

“WHO’S THAT?!!!”

“SOMEONE ENTERED SAKURA-SAN'S ROOM!!”

“Is that her mom’s friend?”

“Stop panicking idiots!”

“THEY BETTER LEAVE SAKURA-CHAN ALONE!!!”

“Wait...”

“Is that....?”

“OHMYFGOFDD”

“IS THAT BOSS TEME???!”

“Holy shit..”

“Damn he’s so fucking hot in sweatpants...”

“Why is he there??????”

“UCHIHA-SAN IS IN SAKURA-SAN'S ROOM!!!!!”

“I see... this could be why Sakura said 7.”

“NOOOO! THIS CAN’T BE! SAKURA-CHAN WON’T DATE THAT ASSHOLE! SHE CAN’T!!”

Stood inside the room is no other than their young CEO, Uchiha Sasuke, dressed in casual gray sweatpants and thin white t-shirt. If not because of his wild black hair and intimidating aura, they wouldn’t even know it’s him. They have always seen him in crisp suits and perfect posture, maybe once in a bomber jacket and ripped jeans, but this is the first time they’ve seen him in comfortable clothes with his usual stiff shoulders a bit relaxed and his hands casually tucked in his pockets.

Another movement from the other corner of the room, and Sakura came into view. They didn’t know she was only wearing a big shirt that barely covered her thighs, and the chat room exploded again.

“Sakura’s so hot, damn..”

“HOY DOG-BREATH, LOOK AWAY!!! STOP HOUNDING SAKURA-CHAN!!”

“YAAAS GET THAT ASS GIRL!!”

“I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS! FOREHEAD IS BANGING OUR BOSS! THAT’S SO HOT”

They watched in awe when the two met in the middle of the room and Sakura tiptoed and wrapped her arms around Sasuke’s neck. Their boss leaned down and held her hips, his face hidden within her pink locks.

The scene didn’t have any audio for their mini audience but even without it, they know the two are speaking in whispers, with Sakura’s head nodding and Sasuke’s hands running over her waist and back as indications. They felt like intruders and most of them almost blushed because of the affection and intimacy, excluding one who definitely passed out under his desk, so they decided to leave the two.

“Let’s leave them alone now, things might get pretty hot. I don’t wanna see my best friend shagging my boss, no matter how proud I am of her.”

“INO-CHAN! WE GOTTA HELP SAKURA-CHAN ESCAPE! WHAT IF HE’S HOLDING HER HOSTAGE???”

“Idiot..”

“Sakura can take me hostage any time though..”

“Wait, I just want to see Boss Uchiha topless before we go!”

--

Sasuke pulled away for a bit to look at Sakura, his birthday girl, and poked her forehead with his two fingers. His two arms wrapped around her waist again after the gesture, “Are you done for today?”

She nodded in affirmative as her hands roam around his shoulders and looped around his neck, “I almost slipped earlier though. They almost knew I have a b-..boyf-”

He smirked. They have been secretly dating for almost 4 months now but she still blushes more than usual when she tries to address him as her boyfriend. He remembered the time he introduced her to his parents as his girlfriend and she was redder than his favorite fruit the entire dinner. That was fun.

She’s his employee, he knows. Sakura’s been working for his company for more than a year now and ever since he laid his eyes on her and saw her potential, wit and charm—he knows she’s his endgame.

It’s been a long pursuit for him, being her boss and all, and her righteous perspective about everything. So when she finally gave in to her own feelings and decided to say yes to being his, he decided to never let Haruno Sakura go. Even if she decides to fight tooth and nail for her freedom from him, he will do the same to keep her. Maybe not as an employee, because that would mean he will be free to take her on lunch dates, but as his lover.

I like that, he thought. Lover.

Sasuke peered at her blushing face, her emerald eyes downcast because of embarassment, her enticing full pink lips on display that she keeps on licking and biting. Sasuke’s eyes twitched because of the sight.

“Annoying,” he almost growled under his breath. Is she aware of her effect on him?

Before she could even ask, Sasuke ducked his head down to press his mouth on hers. His hand went to the back of her head to tilt it a little upwards so he could taste deeper and he was rewarded by the opening of her mouth and the quiet moan that he drank greedily from her.

As much as he wants to call it a night and just bury himself with her and in her, she hasn’t eaten yet because his hard-headed and annoying employee still worked at home on her birthday. He baked a strawberry cake downstairs while she thought he’s busy working with investors on his office. He spent the entire day in his kitchen Facetiming with his mother to guide his baking. He’s never seen his mother so ecstatic because of him.

He came back to his senses when he felt slightly cold hands under his shirt and he fought the urge to throw her onto the bed they have been occupying for the past 2 months of quarantine and just ravish her all night. Sasuke moved both his hands and held her face as he savored more of her lips by a few flicks of his tongue before he gently pulled away.

This might be her second birthday since he knew her, first as her boyfriend, but he feels like he’s known her for a long time. He wants to be there on her birthday every year, forever, as long as she’ll have him. “Happy birthday,” he simply said, tenderly looking at her gorgeous face.

Her smile was blinding and her green irises glimmer against the setting sun. “Thank you, Sasuke-kun,” Sakura softly answered. “I love you so much.”

He pecked her lips again, lingering a bit more, and murmured against her mouth. “Love you.” He felt her smile, and he smiled back.

A small blink from the corner of his eyes got his attention and he noticed the tops of her laptop’s screen with a little light, indicating that the camera is on. Sasuke turned to Sakura, “Go downstairs and wait for me. Let’s eat dinner. I’ll just take a shower.”

Sakura nodded and happily skipped across the room and slipped outside the bedroom to wait for him downstairs. Sasuke stood for a moment looking at the door and slowly walked toward his, their, dresser. He took off his t-shirt and tossed it carelessly on the floor. He took a deep breath and finally approached Sakura’s computer on the side.

He clicked the program that runs the conference call and was greeted by her team’s shocked faces. He saw one window where Rock Lee was supposed to be but he didn’t see anyone aside from the crooked angle of the camera and are those his feet under the table? He scoffed inwardly. Guess you’ll give up pursuing her now. She’s mine.

He did a lazy sweep of his dark eyes one by one on their faces and remembered them in the future if they decide to blame Sakura for not telling this secret. Of course, they both wanted to show the world that they’re together but they still need to be a little cautious. Yes, they’re her friends and her team, but he’s not gonna be lenient especially when it comes to Sakura.

Sasuke thought the look in his eyes were effective because they all sat a little straighter. His job is now done, and now it’s time to shower so he could celebrate the entire night with Sakura. His spine tingled in anticipation.

He looked directly at the little camera above and gave his signature smirk before he logged out her account and closed Sakura’s laptop. He stretched like a feline and his grin went wider as he stripped for his shower.

Let’s just say it was an interesting first day back at the office the following Monday.

--

~fin~

[lazylazyhowl]

foment (of snakes and cherry blossom)

foment (verb) – to stir public opinion; to incite rebellion

["Only time will tell, so I think I'll stay a bit longer." Sasuke and Sakura get married, and the world makes their wedding its business.]

AO3 Link

Written for SasuSakuTwitFest Day 6.

Prompt: Marriage x "Idiot, we're married." x Sasuke catches Sakura.

All 3 used, loosely.

―

Twenty-five years old-

The ornaments in her hair tickle her cheek and wake her from thoughts as the car slows to a stop. Without a second wasted, the door opens and the roof simultaneously lifts and reveals her to the chilly outside.

Sakura squints beneath the wataboshi and takes in the imposing torii gate, vibrantly red, the white sunlight that lands upon it, glitters on even whiter snow.

Her breath frosts. She takes the black-gloved hand that is offered in assistance and steps out of the car.

The heavy shiromuku spills all around her, layers and layers of woven fabric and intricate embroideries that blend seamlessly into the ground. She feels, rather than sees, the presence of the surrounding crowd.

Sasuke stands just a few steps away, in some hushed conversation with Kakashi.

He reminds Sakura of a picturesque ink painting. Their eyes met as she approaches, and she flushes under the fine powder on her cheeks. The dark silk of his haori has nothing, she thinks, on the depthlessness of his eyes.

Under the steady weight of his stare, the jitters beneath her obi settle. She holds her head infinitesimally taller and returns his smile.

(She might just drown if she stares too long.)

.

Her own gait is unfamiliar with the clunky pair of high heels, and the trailing robes hinders, but she keeps pace with him without struggle.

His and her ceremony, every bit meant to be a private affair, made headlines a full week before the day of.

There isn’t much to the procession when neither of them has any blood family left to speak of.

But as they walk on the stone-paved path that ducks beneath a vault of wintry branches and leads deeper into the shrine, out of sight his bodyguards and the local authorities are keeping an eye out for uninvited guests.

There is no wonder that the media shakes with excitement as it makes a debate out of this wedding. The last living Uchiha and heir to an enormous fortune finally settles down, and his bride is a clanless, meritless girl from the shadier side of the city.

Sakura supposes from an outsider’s view it’s either serendipitous love or a gold-digging scheme. Either interpretation is halfway condescending in her opinion.

The priest asks the gods for their happiness after the cleansing ceremony. She bows and solemnly accepts the blessing. (A voice in the back of her head tells her to hide, twist further into this deceptive white shroud because she can scrub the very skin off her flesh and still not be rid of stains.)

The sake is well-aged and has a subtle touch of apple and steamed rice. Three cups and nine sips later, they made their vows

“Until death, Sakura.” The oath is careful and quiet, but also sure. His beautiful fingers graze her callused ones and squeeze the pink-painted tips.

It’s unapologetically Sasuke to be so few of words. But what he says, he means; and in that helplessly forward way it is heartfelt. She holds his unwavering gaze and smiles.

“‘til death, Sasuke-kun.”

They bow once more to the overseeing gods. From this moment forth, she is Uchiha Sakura.

.

She changes into a hikifurisode with blooming myrtles cascading down its tail, the uchiwa ripples at the end of long, sweeping sleeves.

“My best wishes to the groom and bride,” Tobirama, immaculately dressed in a suit and tie, tells them over a raised cup of sake, his eyes dark and glinting, and amicable crow feet.

Sakura stands a little closer to Sasuke. The Senju elder couldn’t have been any more displeased by this turn of events.

Those who support their marriage can probably be counted on one hand, but the reception is still a big splash with all the prominent faces congregating at the Uchiha compound. All headache-inducing politics, but there’s copious food and sake to make it up.

Sasuke has an easy smirk on his face as noisy cheers erupt around them. Up until yesterday, he was still scowling, his foot tapping something furious underneath the kitchen table, as Kakashi prepped him for the social side of the gathering.

It doesn’t take very long for him to be pulled away from Sakura’s side for conversations beyond the scope of the occasion, and she’s left to entertain the other guests.

“Sakura-san, you and the Uchiha brat. Who would’ve thought?” Mei says with a grin and a half that Sakura can’t help reciprocate.

“Give or take, at least half of Konoha people, Mizukage-sama.”

“Don’t be a stranger now, hmm?” Mei gives her an inquisitive head tilt, and Sakura falters. (She’s never sure where she stands with others anymore, after everything, and now bearing the Uchiha name.) Thankfully, she never has to come up with a response when the Mizukage simply goes on.

“You know how gossip media is all over the place.” Mei wrinkles her nose and twists her brightly painted lips. “I could do without. It’s hard enough dating at my age. I say, the random person on the street can be more critical than my own parents now. Just because I also happen to lead them, haa...”

Sakura laughs a little more genuinely. “Sounds like peace, Mei-san.”

Mei’s chuckles fade into a forlorn sigh as she cradles her cheek. “Oh, I hear that, I do. What a time to be alive. Or Kage. Poor old Tobirama, really.” She shrugs and trails off for a moment before looking back to Sakura.

“Regardless of what happens from now on, I’m glad you two found each other, Sakura-san.” Mei holds up her sake. “To your union.”

Their cups tap with a small clink.

.

 Perhaps with you at his side, something will change.

 .

All things considered, Sakura hasn’t expected to receive much honest well-wishing, and she didn’t. That one such wish came from a figure holding as much stake as the Mizukage took her by surprise. Then again, Mei has always been a romantic at heart, Sakura just forgot that, like she has forgotten other things.

Maybe one day she’ll even forget how to heal.

“Be happy, Sakura-chan.” Here’s another honest wish, even though Naruto’s eyes look so sad as he says it. He’s arrived late from work, still in the sooty grey jacket of his Anbu uniform but distinctly more groomed and polished than he is often known for.

“Promise me.” He insists.

Guilt hasn’t been something she associates with Naruto for a while now. They’ve been at this for long enough to know what he wants and what she wants don’t align. He hasn’t met his match, is all; she is no loss to cry over. But tonight, the gnawing returns as she tells him.

“I promise.”

The way he grins without reserve, the whisker-like marks on his cheeks, it overlaps with a million other times in the past that he’s smiled at her.

She’s promised the same before the gods too, but this promise rings differently. It’s personal—raw. Real, rather than surreal.

When Sasuke reappears beside her, Naruto wastes no time to raise his voice.

“How could you go and leave Sakura-chan all alone like this, huh? Bastard! Tch, not even half a day’s gone by and already disrespecting the sacred vow.” Naruto shakes his head in dramatic disapproval.

“She and I married, captain. It’s not as if we became conjoined.” At Sasuke’s dry tone, Naruto throws his head back and cackles uncontrollably, much to her husband’s puzzlement. Sakura smiles into her sip of sake.

(Her husband. Husband. She keeps testing the words in her head and they’re more agreeable than the last time.)

“Whatever, don’t you ever break her heart, you hear me?”

Sasuke gives her a sidelong, searching look, and she can see the words being weighted behind his eyes.

“I don’t believe I can,” he says, light smile on his lips, before wincing in annoyance at Naruto’s hearty shoulder slaps.

.

In the ebbing hours of the wedding, she quietly leads Sasuke away from the celebration. His people—hers too now, she supposes—can take care of the rest.

Even when he maintains his stilly decorum, she can tell he’s already drunk near out of his mind, that he keeps his eyes on the ground just to walk straight, his hand clinging onto hers rather painfully. He didn’t even have much to drink, only the conversational shots exchanged between dialogues.

They end up in the lamplit garden, where the sound of running water and crisp snap of the shishi-odoshi fill the silence between them.

Snow crunches beneath their feet. The night air smells silvery compared to a stuffy, crowded dining hall.

“Oi...”

Sasuke tugs on her hand that he still hasn’t let go of, to turn her to him; he’s closer than she expected. The shadows flicker across the straight bridge of his nose and smooth, flawless skin. She can see the fine little white hair on his cheekbone as his face draws even nearer, his eyes dark, darker than this moonless night.

Their noses brush lightly, tentatively that it’s sweet, that her heart quickens. Their combined breaths drift away from between them, and she can taste alcohol on the warm, heady air. Even up close he doesn’t look all that wasted, with that sheen of clarity in his eyes, or maybe she’s pretty tipsy herself.

She closes her eyes, closes the last few millimeters between their lips. A quick, chaste kiss. And another. His lips are softer than you’d expect. Without disentangling their fingers, he brings his other hand up to angle against her jaw, neither rough nor gentle. Just firm, and it’s anchoring.

There’s the sound of a shutter going off, instantly muffled by a clear tap of the shishi-odoshi.

She licks the tang of apple sake from his lips. (Maybe…drowning wouldn’t be all that bad an ending.)

.

.

.

Sasuke wakes up dry-mouthed and to a nasty pounding in his head. The chill in the room hits his naked skin the next moment, and he curls up inside the futon.

His vision is blurry, his extremities weak. He bites down on another groan and brings a shaky hand to his head. If he didn’t already know misery, he’d say this is it and it is never, ever happening a second time.

Now it occurs to him that someone other than him has laid out the futon. He buries his face into the pillow, eyes squeezed shut, a suffering groan, and stench of alcohol on his tongue. There is no recollection as to how he’s even made it to the bedroom.

What he does remember is Naruto’s dumb face, a look of loss braved by loud guffaws and half-jokes that were completely serious. Advice unasked for is no different from spit in the face.

Who does Naruto think he is, anyway, prying into her and Sasuke’s business? (And that’s what it is: business)

The angle of the light on the tatami tells him it’s still morning, a little later than he normally wakes. After a small battle with the heavy blanket, it takes him a few more minutes to gather his bearings to pull on a kimono and make his way to the kitchen.

Out in the living area, he finds Sakura slumped over by the coffee table with a small army of sake cans standing watch at her side. A blanket is draped snuggly over her shoulders.

He slides the door shut behind him, more discreet than when he’s opened it.

“Nn, good morning, Sasuke-kun.”

He pauses mid pouring a glass of water and meets her gaze that’s half-hidden behind mussed pink locks.

“Maybe.”

She giggles into her arms she uses as makeshift pillows. He takes immediate aversion to the bubbly mood, and though he doesn’t think he’s letting it show, she seems to pick up on it anyway and grins a little wider.

“Take that with your water then.” He follows her finger (small, he remembers; lightly rough to the touch) to a plastic bag perching near the edge of the table that he’s assumed was just more sake. “Medicine. I asked Lee to get it since I figured you’d be in need. He told me I was most youthful.” She giggles again in some private joke.

Sasuke sits down across from her, their socked feet touching in the small space beneath the table. He’s careful not to knock over the empty cans, pushed haphazardly toward his side of the table to allow Sakura the rest of the surface, and rummages through the bag’s content.

The medicine is hidden underneath several unopened sake cans, a small tube with bright labeling that he brings up to the light for examination. Not that he has any expertise in this branch of products to judge.

“Save some for me.”

“Hn.”

He drops two tablets into the water according to the fine prints and watches them dissolve into clear white foam.

Sakura is still sprawled out on the table and playing with one of the cans. The sun rays seep through the kitchen window and settle on her face to deepen those greener shards in her eyes. There’s a light flush to her cheeks, knots and tangles in her hair that she hasn’t bothered undoing; some pink strands sticking to the side of her face as she returns his watchful gaze.

“Did you see the news?” When he remains silent, Sakura produces the phone he’s recently given her, already decorated with all manners of animal stickers, and shows him the screen after a few quick taps.

He squints to see a picture of them from last night, wedding garbs and all, caught in the middle of what appears to be a kiss.

It was. He recalls now, doing something like that upon sensing the paparazzi, how she’s been the one to lean in at the end. And the velvety taste of lipstick at the tip of his tongue. Without the haze of alcohol, it doesn’t seem as good an idea anymore.

(At least, he thinks, that’s a well-taken picture.)

“They’re writing up a storm on us.” She takes the phone back to scroll down a few times. “You should see the comment section.”

“I’m fine.”

“Oh.” Her smile fades. Her hand, with the phone, retreats inside the blanket cocoon, and she drops to her cheek on the table. “It was my first kiss, you know,” she says after a bit.

He stares at the top of her head. Her tone is light as far as he can tell, but his instincts tell him to apologize. And he does, even if he doesn’t mean it.

“No.” She sighs. “No. It’s not like I was particularly saving it. There was just no good timing.”

“I see.” He picks up the glass and downs it in one breath and puts it back down none-too-graciously. Fruity, like melon. Maybe apple.

“You know, I’ve always had it in my head—nothing specific, just somewhere in the back, the idea that I’d marry someone I love. I mean, who else does the common person marry, anyway?”

“You’re not the common person, Sakura.” This he can say with certainty. Sasuke has no use for the common and run-of-the-mill.

She doesn’t take it as a compliment as he intended. She shifts to rest her chin on her arms, staring up at him unimpressed. “No, I guess not,” she says. “So, poison is no big deal, but it’s alcohol that gets you.”

“I suppose.” He rubs at the bridge of his nose, feeling strangely on edge.

“Stay away from it from now, you’re a boorish drunk.”

“Aa, I can say the same for you.”

Sasuke doesn’t mean to sound annoyed, never mind that he is. He’s usually more tolerant, a little more scrupulous even if not patient. (He’s still not equipped to deal with this on a good day.) Her foot moves away from his as she draws her knees to her chest and tucks herself further into her cocoon.

Lee. Lee’s fault for even buying this obscene amount of alcohol on top of the hangover medicine as if they weren’t irony in a bag. Was it because Sakura also has a say in the house now?

As the silence stretches between them, he sighs. “Look-”

“How are you feeling?” She grabs one of the cans nearer to her and tips it against her lips for a sip.

He takes the out she’s offering. “Aa, better.” And in retrospect, like an idiot, for losing his temper over something so trivial. The hangover, he supposes.

“Shishō always said that brand worked faster than the rest.”

“I can’t say I’m impressed she was able to draw that conclusion.”

Sakura laughs at that, a belly-laugh of when you find something genuinely funny, and he can’t help but wonder if this is actually her default. This airy personality that’s prone to smiles and giggles, that takes his words and doesn’t dissect them for more than face value. More girl than woman.

And he wonders, where she disappears to on the days Sakura isn’t drunk. Or if it’s just him that hasn’t experienced her before.

Compared to the usual Sakura, with the guarded melancholy and a guilt complex, this one is vastly different, and he’s not sure how to use this information just yet.

Her laughter subsides and her smile fades by a shade. “I tried turning to alcohol before, too you know, but couldn’t make it work quite like shishō.”

Making alcohol work is an oxymoron unless you’re Lee and in combat, and even that is a wild card as far as Sasuke is concerned. But he stays his tongue. She doesn’t intend to rely on alcohol, and that’s good enough for him. It’s not his place to change her opinion on anything.

“If I’m this much of a mess right now…I can’t imagine how much she’s seen, at her age. Oh, but don’t tell her I said that,” she says with a little laugh as if he’s going to be picking up the phone to call Tsunade Senju for a friendly chat in the near future. “Shishō’s strong.”

“Hn, so are you.”

Sakura takes another sip before placing the sake down with a soft clink. “I’m going to wash my face,” she announces and shimmies out of her cocoon, oddly reminiscent of his recent struggle with the futon. When she stands and knocks her knee into the table, sending the several empty cans clattering onto the floor, Sasuke rises as well and walks around the table to her side.

“Sorry…”

“It’s fine.”

“I’ll get that.” But she missteps and places her foot onto one of the rolling cans. From the way her limbs are completely relaxed as she falls backward, she would have hit her head on the floor if he wasn’t already behind her.

He steadies her with an arm around her shoulders. Sakura turns her head and gives him a blank stare that tells him she’s not all there. Near putty against his chest, and smells strongly of sake, just like last night.

“Sorry,” she says after a bit.

“Don’t do this anymore, it’s unbecoming.”

She smiles. “Of Uchiha?”

“Of you.”

Her smile dims again; she gestures to the cans. “Just leave it. I’ll clean up later.”

“I’ll do it. You already cleaned up after me last night.”

“No, I-”

“Sakura, I’ll do it.” He squeezes her shoulder and attempts his best reassuring tone. “Go get a bath instead, you stink of sake.”

She pushes away and rounds on him with a frown and huff. “Well hello, pot.”

“I’ll go after you.”

“Hmph.” She turns to leave.

As she opens the door, he calls after her. “If.” She looks over her shoulder at him. “If it helps, that was also my first kiss.”

Sakura blinks a few times, then laughs. “Not in the least. But it’s pretty funny that you think it would, Sasuke-kun.”

Is it? An eye for an eye; one first kiss for another. It makes sense in his mind, as it must in hers as well, even if she laughs about it. (Or does she laugh at it?)

“We’re married, silly. Let’s not keep scores, okay?”

With one last giggle, the door slides shut and he’s left in the kitchen by himself.

He clears the cans away and rolls up the blanket she’s left behind, he thinks about the sobering sound of shishi-odoshi and the night air nipping at his nose and cheeks; and waking up alone with the futon laid out just where he prefers. He thinks about bittersweet apple sake and compares it to the melon candy taste of the medicine on his tongue.

Her look of surprise and doubt when he asked for her hand. That moment when her hanko presses firmly next to where his own seal was still drying.

After making sure everything is in order, Sasuke takes the blanket back to the bedroom.

So, she doesn’t wish to keep scores.

He’ll give that some more thought and decide what to with it later.

[daedriclorde]

A Thief in Wolf’s Clothing, Part II: Chapter 4, “Family”

 Kjolti begins to feel at home in Jorrvaskr; meanwhile, Brynjolf continues his search for word of Aerisif.

Read here on Ao3!

Kjolti stumbled out of her quarters. Her mouth felt dry and her tongue thick. Head pounding, she slowly made her way toward the hall. This condition was the usual result after a night of revelry with the Companions. 

What the fuck did I drink? She wondered, rubbing her temples. On some level, Kjolti knew that it wasn’t what, that was the problem, so much as how much, but she did not want to admit that to herself. She had started drinking fairly heavily since her induction, and she didn’t care to stop.

Upon turning the corner, she squinted at an unfamiliar figure moving about. Kjolti blinked. A woman came into focus, a pretty young thing wearing rather impractical clothing.

“Who the fuck are you?” Kjolti grumbled. 

Some combination of Kjolti’s tone, and likely her disheveled appearance, frightened the woman, because she startled at the rough question. She released a high pitched yelp of surprise that made Kjolti wince, and scurried off toward the stairs even faster.

“What the—“ Kjolti leaned against the wall, trying to figure out where the woman had come from.

Oh, of course. Naturally. Vilkas’s door was slightly ajar, and loud snores could be heard from within. Kjolti rolled her eyes and continued onto her goal: breakfast. 

The daylight streaming in through the halls windows made Kjolti blink. She sank down onto an empty bench and hungrily attacked the loaf of bread before her. 

Bread, she cooed in her head. Bread seemed about a hundred times better when she was hungover. Tilma was passing by with a tray full of tankards and Kjolti grabbed one without caring what was inside. A sip confirmed it was a nutty ale. A little hair of the dog—wolf, she mused to herself with a bleak smile. Her stomach rolled at first but quickly accepted the food and drink.

Kjolti then became aware of the others in the hall, all in similar states as she. Athis and Ria were sitting a little while down, Ria looking rather sickly. Torvar was still face first into a pie, where he had obviously crashed last night. Farkas sat slumped against a empty barrel of mead.

Kjolti then became aware that she was being watched, just as she was doing the watching. She caught Kodlak and Skjor sitting in the corner, chuckling deep together. Grinning, she stood and made her way over to them on wobbly legs. 

“Enjoying the scene?” She asked as she planted herself on the bench next to them.

“Oh, very much,” Skjor chuckled. “It brings two old men life to watch the young drink up—quite literally—their youth.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kodlak said with his nose in the air. “It was certainly just yesterday that we were waking up in our own puddles of mead.” They all laughed at that. 

“Kodlak, do you want me dead? You’ll split my wounds open!” Skjor grinned.

Kjolti grinned too. She was beginning to feel something that she didn’t think she could anymore. Family.

“You know, you fit in here quite well, Kjolti.” Skor’s voice was soft and warm.

She looked up, startled. “Thank you Skor…that…that means a lot to me.”

“It seems I owe you a great deal. I have heard that you were instrumental in keeping me alive, after the raid on the Silverhand.”

Kjolti shrugged sheepishly. “I did what any one of us would do, Skjor. Never leave a Companion behind, right?”

“I was on the death’s door once again, and yet again, saved by a member of your family. You have brought honor to your family and this hall.”

Kodlak nodded in agreement. “You have done the Companions proud, girl. Your father would have been proud as well.”

Kjolti felt tears welling in her eyes, but refused to let them fall. This is my family now.

***

Farkas blinked awake, heading pounding and vision blurry. He groaned as he felt the crick in his spine from sleeping leaning against the mead barrel all night. With a loud snap he righted his back.

Taking account of the rest of his body, Farkas found he was aching all over. More mead, he thought. That’ll help. But as he began to rise, he froze as his eyes landed on a beautiful sight. 

Kjolti sat across Jorrvaskr, laughing heartily with Skjor and Kodlak. Farkas softened. Her smile, her bright silver eyes. They always made him pause. He sat back down heavily and sighed. 

And she has no idea how I feel. The very thought of telling Kjolti how he felt paralyzed Farkas. He, a member of the Inner Circle of The Companions, direct descendants of Ysgramor’s Five Hundred, a fearsome werewolf in his own right, was terrified at the very idea of telling the woman he was obsessing over how he felt about her.

Coward, he berated himself. He rubbed his face in his hands, peeking through his fingers at Kjolti again.

She looked well. It wasn’t long ago that she and Aela returned with Skjor on their  shields, all three covered in blood. It had been nearly six moons since that night. He knew then how he felt. He knew it much longer ago than that. And yet here he was, still watching Kjolti from a distance. 

But not so distant anymore, he thought with an inner smile. Now that Kjolti was a werewolf too, they had become closer. They transformed and hunted together, and often. Maybe too often. There are risks. But the risks disappeared in his mind as Kjolti saw he was awake and started to carry a loaf of bread over to him. 

***

Solitude always impressed Brynjolf. As he strolled through the gates, he took in the city. It certainly was closest thing to a metropolis in Skyrim. He took a deep breath in of crisp mountain air.

When I find Aerisif, maybe we’ll retire here. The thought was nice: the pair of them dressed in fine robes, strolling around the market, attending festivals at the Bard’s College.

But a tiny seed of doubt was growing in the pit of his stomach.

Brynjolf walked past The Winking Skeever just as an Argonian emerged. Golum-Ei lifted his head. They locked eyes for a moment. Brynjolf gave him a warning look. Not today. You don’t know me today.

Golum-Ei seem to understand. He quickly looked away and carried on with his business, as if the redhead was just another stranger in the city. Brynjolf released a breath and continued forward. Dressed as he was in his standard blue robes, Brynjolf looked like just another stranger. As was his intention.

Brynjolf veered off towards the stairs that lead to Castle Dour. 

“I’ve got a little work if you’re interested, traveller,” a voice called out from the shadows.

Brynjolf knew enough about voices that call out from the shadows and the kind of offers they made. He didn’t even look in its direction as he continued toward the stairs.

“Everyone’s got to work,” mumbled the shadows.

Aye, but I’m not here on business. Maybe if Brynjolf was here on Guild business, he would see what the Argonian was about, see if the Guild could use him. But not today. Today, he had a mission. He continued up the stairs and through the stone archway. Brynjolf pointedly did not make eye contact with the guard flanking the door to Castle Dour. Easier to stay unnoticed when you don’t make eye contact.

It took a while for his eyes to adjust to the dimness of the castle interior. Brynjolf immediately picked up on an agitated conversation from the room ahead.

“You people and your damm Jarls.” The speaker was frustrated. Brynjolf edged closer, and inferred that it was General Tullius himself.

“Sir?” A legate standing nearby measured her words carefully. “You can’t force a Nord to accept help he hasn’t asked for.”

“If Ulfric’s making a move on Whiterun, then we need to be there to stop him. Draft another letter with the usual platitudes, but this time share some of your intelligence regarding Ulfric’s plans. Embellish if you have to. We’ll let it seem like its his idea.”

“Yes, Sir.” Brynjolf could see the legate’s face now. He recognized the expression. It was one he had worn many times when receiving orders from Mercer.

Tullius shook his head. “You Nords and your bloody sense of honor.” He began to walk away from the large table when he saw Brynjolf in the doorway. “Are my men now giving free reign to anyone who wanders into the castle? Do you have some reason to be here, citizen?”

Brynjolf straightened. “Aye, I do. I’m here about Helgen.”

Tullius rolled his head in annoyance. “If you think you can waltz in here to be entertained with stories of dragons like I’m some damn Moon-Singer, you are sorely mistaken. I have a war to win.”

Brynjolf held up a hand. “Please. I don’t need more than a moment of your time. I’m not here about the dragon.”

Tullius raised an eyebrow. “You’re not?”

“No. One of the prisoners. A woman. Black hair, silver eyes. Did she escape?”

The general crossed his arms. “Are you asking me for confidential information on an Imperial prisoner?”

Brynjolf crossed his arms and stood tall. “Aye, I suppose I am. Did she escape?”

Tullius gave Brynjolf a measuring look. “Why should I tell you anything? I don’t know who you are, why you’re here, or who sent you.”

“I’m Gormund, of Dragon Bridge, I’m here about the prisoner with black hair and silver eyes, and I sent myself. The sooner you answer my question, the sooner I’ll leave. Did she escape?”

Tullius considered for a moment, then relaxed his expression. “I’m not going to waste either of our time. There’s no point. I don’t know your prisoner, or if she escaped. She wasn’t on our lists, it seems my men threw her in the wagon anyway. Something about a disturbance at the camp. She made it to the block, but that’s when the dragon attacked. We didn’t kill her, but I can’t say the dragon didn’t. That’s all I know.”

Brynjolf’s eyes held fire as he listened to Tullius’s account, but he maintained his stony expression otherwise. “Thank you for your time.” He turned and left. Brynjolf’s gaze was unfocused. Passersby looked at him curiously, but wisely did not approach him.

He made it all the way outside of the city gates before he unleashed a near-feral shout of frustration, anger, and grief. 

[imdoingthismspaintadventure]

Worm 2.2 - In which we browse a superhero forum

The run had helped to wake me up, as did the hot shower and a cup of the coffee my dad had left in the pot.  Even so, the fatigue didn’t help the feeling of disorientation over just how normal the day seemed as I made my way to school.  Just a matter of hours ago, I had been in a life and death fight, I had even met Armsmaster.  Now it was a day like any other.

Yeah, I’d be suprised if you pay any attention to anything they teach at school today. The feeling of coming back to normality and routine after that must be something else

I felt a bit nervous as I got to homeroom.  Having basically skipped two classes the previous Friday, failing to turn in a major assignment, I figured that Mrs. Knott probably knew already.  I didn’t feel relieved when Mrs. Knott glanced up at me and gave a tight smile before turning her attention back to her computer.  That just meant the humiliation would be redoubled if and when class was interrupted by someone coming down from the office.  A part of me just wanted to miss this class too, just to avoid the potential humiliation and avoid drawing attention.

Ugh, falling out of schedule and/or failing classes because of the bullying is rough as hell. Keeping your grades acceptable can be used as escapism from your own thoughts in these kinds of situations and if that starts falling apart too... what’s keeping you in school at all?

If you start missing classes it can quickly slowball into full-on not attending class at all.

All in all, I felt anxious as I made my way to my computer, which kind of sucked because Computer class was one of the few parts of the school day I didn’t usually dread.  For one thing, it was the one class in which I was doing well.  More to the point, neither Madison, Sophia nor Emma were in this class, though some of their friends were.  Those girls didn’t usually feel the need to harass me without the trio around, and I was further removed from them because I was in the advanced stream of the class.  A good three quarters of the people in the room were computer illiterate, being from families that didn’t have the money for computers or families that didn’t have much interest in the things, so they practiced typing without looking at the keyboard and had lessons in using search engines.  By contrast, I was in the group that was learning some basic programming and spreadsheets.  It didn’t do a lot for my already geeky reputation, but I could deal.

Oh interesting that Taylor’s favourite class is Computer Science! I am studying to be a Software Engineer myself! Nice!

It’s good that those three aren’t in every class, so you at least get some moments of respite from their bullshit. That’s good.

We never had the basic kind of keyboard-training classes and all that. Is computer science taught early in America? Here we basically don’t learn anything until we are like 16 or 17 at the very least.

Mrs. Knott was an alright teacher, if not the most hands on; she was usually content to give us advanced students an in-class assignment and then focus on the more rambunctious majority for the rest of the class. This suited me just fine – I usually wrapped up the assignment in a half hour, leaving me an hour to use as I saw fit.  I had been recalling and going over the events of the previous night during my morning run, and the first thing that I did when the ancient desktop finished its agonizing load process was to start digging for information.

Lucky you! Assignments stress me out a lot, generally. I wish I could just do them easy-peasy like that. Although I suspect Taylor’s are much simpler, just because of her age and school education vs college.

The go-to place for news and discussion on capes was Parahumans Online. The front page had constant updates on recent, international news featuring capes.  From there, I could go to the wiki, where there was information on individual capes, groups and events, or to the message boards, which broke down into nearly a hundred sub-boards, for specific cities and capes.  I opened the wiki in one tab, then found and opened the message board for Brockton Bay in another.

Ok I love this. I love this a lot.

This is one of the most realistic things the serial has done so far. Also one of the most fun. If superheroes were real, you bet your ass there would be forums about them, probably more than one. With hourly threads and a lot of speculation and debate.

I imagine there would be like a serious one with strict rules for talking about world events relating to capes, like if it was the news. Cause they aren’t just a tv show or a videogame, they have a real impact in the daily lives of people everywhere.

There would also be whole fanclubs or communities for each super-group and for each city/country, where they talk about the popularity, newcomers, fights, etc...

I can also see entire pages dedicated to romantic relationships or rumors, fanarts, conspiracies, versus battles (who would win?) etc....

Basically, supers being real would absolutely reshape the whole internet forever.

I had the sense that either Tattletale or Grue were the leader of the group I had run into.  Turning my attention to Tattletale, I searched the wiki.  The result I got was disappointingly short, starting with a header reading “This article is a stub.  Be a hero and help us expand it.”  There was a one sentence blurb on how she was a alleged villain active in Brockton Bay, with a single blurry picture.  The only new information for me was that her costume was lavender.  A search of the message boards turned up absolutely nothing.  There wasn’t even a hint as to what her power was.

Grue seemed the one calling the shots, but I could also see Tattletale as a short of “shadow leader” type, yeah...

Tattletale has almost nothing about her in her page! That’s very interesting. So she’s very secretive or at least good at hiding information about herself...

Heh, ironic that the Tattletale is the one who keeps secrets. I like the name she picked.

I looked up Grue.  There was actually information about him, but nothing detailed or definitive.  The wiki stated he had been active for nearly three years, dealing in petty crimes such as robbing small stores and doing some work as an enforcer for those who wanted a little superpowered muscle along for a job.  Recently, he had turned to higher scale crime, including corporate theft and robbing a casino, together with his new team.  His power was listed as darkness generation in the sidebar under his picture.  The picture seemed crisp enough, but the focus of it, Grue, was just a blurry black silhouette in the center.

So Grue is an experienced criminal! Somewhat at least. Three years of experience is certainly better than one night!

He was doing low-level crimes until recently, when he adquired his new team, and they seem to be doing big heists now! How did Grue find the others? Seems like a pretty big increase in notoriety and strength in a short time!

Darkness generation....that could potentially be very cool. I wonder if it can be used offensively, like fire with Lung. I always imagine the darkness element (when used as blasts the same way they use fire, in some media) to feel like being devoured by some parasite, like if darkness ravages and devours you. Light on the other hand just scours and obliterates everything it touches. At least those are my headcanons for the more esoteric elements.

I searched for Bitch, next.  No results.  I did another search for her more official title, Hellhound, and got a wealth of information.  Rachel Lindt had never made any real attempt to hide her identity.  She had apparently been homeless through most of her criminal career, just living on the streets and moving on whenever police or a cape came after her.  The sightings and encounters with the homeless girl ended around a year ago – I figured that was when she joined forces with Grue, Tattletale and Regent.  The picture in the sidebar was taken from surveillance camera footage – an unmasked, dark haired girl who I wouldn’t have called pretty.  She had a squarish, blunt-featured face with thick eyebrows.  She was riding atop one of her monstrous ‘dogs’ like a jockey rides a horse, down the middle lane of a street.

Huh, so Bitch, or Rachel, had never had a secret identity or a secret life! Seems like her cape and normal life are one and the same! She was homeless and running from one place to another, along with her giant eldritch dogs.

I assume they took her into the group and she prefers it to being alone and without a place to be.

According to the wiki entry, her powers manifested when she was fourteen, followed almost immediately by her demolishing the foster home she had been living in, injuring her foster mother and two other foster children in the process.  This was followed by a two year series of skirmishes and retreats across Maine as various heroes and teams tried to apprehend her, and she either defeated them or successfully evaded capture.  She had no powers that would have made her any stronger or faster than the average Jane, but she was apparently able to turn ordinary dogs into the creatures I had seen on the rooftop.  Monsters the size of a car, all muscle, bone, fang and claw.  A red box near the bottom of the page read, “Rachel Lindt has a public identity, but is known to be particularly hostile, antisocial and violent.  If recognized, do not approach or provoke.  Leave the area and notify authorities as to her last known location.”  At the very bottom of the page was a list of links that were related to her:  two fansites and a news article relating to her early activities.  A search of the message boards turned up too many results, leaving me unable to sift through the crap, the arguments, the speculation and the villain worship to find any genuine morsels of information.  If nothing else, she was notorious.  I sighed and moved on, making a mental note to do more investigation when I had the time.

Damn, can she control her powers all that well? Or at least, at that time? Cause that sounds to me like the type of situation where her newly-found powers go out of control and cause problems.

She had a foster-home, but then had to run away from the people she hurt ,the authorities, heroes and everyone! And she lived two years like that! No wonder she is antisocial now, jesus.

Also she can apparently turn any dog into those boney creatures of death. Wow. Depending on where she is, she could be incredibly powerful in a fight!

She also seems to be the most famous one so far, having even online admirers and fansites about her exploits. Interesting. She seems to be dangerous though, as she is said to be violent to everyone she meets.

The last member of the group was Regent.  Given what Armsmaster had said about the guy being low profile, I didn’t expect to find much.  I was surprised to find less than that.  Nothing.  My search on the wiki turned up only a default response, “There are no results matching this query.  32 unique IP addresses have searched the Parahumans.net Wiki for ‘Regent’ in 2011.  Would you like to create the page?”  The message board didn’t turn up anything else.  I even did a search for alternate spellings of his name, such as Regence and Recant, in case I had heard it wrong.  Nothing turned up.

Woah, if Tattletale had little to no information, this guy is straight-up a nonentity! Absolutely hidden from the public eye!

We don’t even know his powers, story or place within the group. How fascinating.

If my mood had been on the sour side as I got to homeroom, the dead ends only made it worse.  I turned my attention to the in-class assignment, making a working calculator in Visual Basic, but it was too trivial to distract me.  The work from Thursday and Friday had already given us the tools to do the job, so it was really just busywork.  I didn’t mind learning stuff, but work for the sake of doing work was annoying.  I did the bare minimum, checked it for any bugs, moved the file to the ‘completed work’ folder and returned to surfing the web.  All in all, the work barely took fifteen minutes.

You at least get experience and speed in doing these kinds of things! And calculators can be fun to program!

Also yeah, having nothing to do and being able to use the internet the rest of the class is pretty sweet!

I looked up Lung on the wiki, which I had done often enough before, as part of my research and preparation for being a superhero.  I’d wanted to be sure I knew who prominent local villains were and what they could do.  The search for ‘Lung’ redirected to a catch-all page on his gang, the ABB, with quite a bit of detailed information.  The information on Lung’s powers was pretty in line with my own experience, though there was no mention of the super-hearing or him being fireproof.  I debated adding it, but decided against it.  There were security concerns with my submission being tracked back to Winslow High, and then to me.  I figured it would probably be deleted as unsupported speculation, anyways.

They are really underselling Lung huh. No wonder Taylor was suprised about how OP he could be! And yeah better not to edit anything in a trackable device, or without any solid source for that matter.

The section beneath the description of Lung and his powers covered his subordinates.  He was estimated to have forty or fifty thugs working for him across Brockton Bay, largely drawn from the ranks of Asian youth.   It was pretty unconventional for a gang to include members of the variety of nationalities that the ABB did, but Lung had made it a mission to conquer and absorb every gang with Asian members and many without.  Once he had the manpower he needed, the non-Asian gangs were cannibalized for assets, their members discarded.  Even though there were no more major gangs in the east end of town to absorb, he was still recruiting zealously.  His method, now, was to go after anyone older than twelve and younger than sixty.  It didn’t matter if you were a gang member or not.  If you were Asian and you lived in Brockton Bay, Lung and his people expected you to either join or to pay tribute one way or another.  There had been local news reports on it, newspaper articles, and I could remember seeing signs in the guidance counselor’s office detailing where people who were targeted in this way could go for help.

He seemed to want to grow quickly by recruiting every asian person in Brockton Bay, cape or not! And if you were Asian, you would have heard of his band and their threats or extortion.

You are partly responsible for the capture of one mayor threat to the safety of the citizens of Brockton Bay. You did great last night, Taylor!

Lung’s lieutenants were listed as Oni Lee and Bakuda.  I already had some general knowledge about Oni Lee, but I was intrigued to see there were recent updates to his wiki entry.  There were specific details on his powers:  He could teleport, but when he did so, he didn’t disappear.  As he teleported, his original self, for lack of a better term, would stay where it was and remain active for five to ten seconds before disintegrating into a cloud of carbon ash.  Essentially, he could create another version of himself anywhere nearby, while the old version could stick around long enough to distract or attack you.  If that wasn’t scary enough, there was an report of him holding a grenade in his hand as he repeatedly duplicated himself, with his short lived duplicates acting as suicide bombers.  Topping it all off, Oni Lee’s wiki page  had a similar red warning box to the one that Bitch/Hellhound had on hers, minus the bit about his public identity.  From what they knew about him, authorities had seen fit to note him a sociopath.  The warning covered the same essential elements: exceedingly violent, dangerous to approach, should not be provoked, and so on.  I glanced at his picture.  His costume consisted of a black bodysuit with a black bandoleer and belt for his knives, guns and grenades.  The only color on him was an ornate Japanese-style demon mask, crimson with two green stripes down either side.  Except for the mask, his costume gave off the distinct impression of a ninja, which just added weight to the notion that this was a guy who could and would slide a knife between your ribs.

Oni Lee sounds like a mayor fucking threat! The ability to teleport-shadow clone yourself multiple times to get to a thousand places quickly AND leave behind copies who could stab, shoot you or even blow themselves up seems really really dangerous.

And he’s a sociopath to boot! You were lucky he wasn’t there last night, he could have probably just teleported to the roof and knifed you.

Bakuda was a new entry, added to the ABB wiki page just ten days ago. The picture only showed her from the shoulders up, a girl with straight black hair, large opaque goggles over her eyes and a metal mask with a gas mask styled filter covering the lower half of her face.  A braided cord of black, yellow and green wires looped over one of her shoulders. I couldn’t pinpoint her ethnicity with the mask and goggles, and her age wasn’t any easier to figure out.

This was the bomb expert, right?

She looks menacing with that setup, which is probably true! Her powers also sounds really worrying!

The wiki had a lot of the same details Armsmaster had mentioned to me.   Bakuda had essentially held a university ransom and she did it with her superhuman ability to design and fabricate high tech bombs.  There was a link to a video titled ‘Bomb Threat @ Cornell’, but I didn’t think it wise to play it in school, especially without headphones.  I made a mental note to check it out when I got home.

Damn, she was basically a domestic terrorist back then!

It’s probably not a good idea to play a bomb threat at a school IN a school, you’re right.

The next thing that caught my eye was the section heading titled ‘Defeats and Captures’.  I scrolled down to read it.  According to the wiki, Lung had apparently suffered a number of minor defeats at the hands of various teams, ranging from the Guild to the local teams of New Wave, the Wards and the Protectorate, but consistently managed to evade capture until last night.  A blurb read, ‘ Armsmaster successfully ambushed and defeated the leader of the ABB, who was weakened from a recent encounter with a rival gang.  Lung was taken to the PHQ for holding until the villain’s trial by teleconference.  Given Lung’s extensive and well documented criminal history, it is expected he will face imprisonment in the Birdcage should he be found guilty at trial.’

Huh, so he WAS bested before! Just not captured! He always evaded prison, until now thanks to Taylor and co.!

Or thanks only to Armsmaster, according to the official story, which to be fair, is what they agreed upon.

The birdcage? What is that, some sort of super-prison like The Raft, Blackgate, Impel Down in One Piece...

Is that place safe? Cause prisons and jail breaks are pretty synonymous in comics

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  I wasn’t sure what to think.  By all rights, I should have been angry that Armsmaster took the credit for the fight that could have cost me my life.  Instead, I felt a building excitement.  I felt like shaking the shoulder of the guy sitting next to me and point to the screen, saying, “Me, I made that possible!  Me!”

Hehe. Excited and happy Taylor is just the best.

With a renewed enthusiasm, I switched tabs to the message board and began looking to see what people were saying about it.  A post by a fan or minion of Lung threatened violence against Armsmaster.  There was a request by someone asking for more information on the fight.  I was given pause by one post that asked whether Bakuda could or would use a large scale bomb and the threat of potentially thousands or hundreds of thousands dead, to ransom Lung back.

Eeash, seems Arms was right about the consequences of this!

That Bakuda threat is really scary

I tried to put that out of my mind.  If it happened, it would be the responsibility of heroes better and more experienced than I.

True, you can’t carry everything on your shoulders.

It struck me that there was one person I hadn’t looked for.  Myself.  I opened up the advanced search page for the Parahumans.net message board and did a search for multiple terms.  I included insect, spider, swarm, bug, plague, and a mess of other terms that had struck me when I had been trying to brainstorm a good hero name.  I narrowed the timeframe of posts to search for posts made within the past 12 hours and hit Search.

Huh, I don’t think you would find that much honestly. I mean, fight aside, you were pretty stealthy on your way in, and the only people who directly met you are the fire dragon currently going to jail, a couple of mooks without their boss, a group of very cryptic teenage villains and the superhero who was going to keep you hidden sooo yeah.

Also kinda hard to search for yourself without having decided on a name yet!

My efforts turned up two posts.  One referred to a villain called Pestilence, active in the UK.  Apparently Pestilence was one of the people who could use ‘magic’.  That is, he was if you believed magic was real, and not just some convoluted or deluded interpretation of a given set of powers.

Pestilence sounds awesome as an insect-power name. One of the Horsemen of the Apocalypse!

Huh, so there are powers that seem more “magical” and others that are more “technological”. Nice.

The second post was in the ‘Connections’ section of the message board, where rescued damsels left their contact information for their dashing heroes, where conventions and fan gatherings were organized and where people posted job offers for capes and the cape-obsessed.  Most were cryptic or vague, referring to stuff only the people in question would know.

That is a nice system to have, to contact people anonymously.

The message was titled, simply, “Bug”

Oh

Well damn, seems someone did notice you

I clicked it and waited impatiently for the outdated system and overloaded school modem to load up the page.  What I got was brief.

Subject: Bug

Owe you one.  Would like to repay the favor.  Meet?

Send a message,

Tt.

OH

IT’S TATTLETALE.

IT’S THE TEENAGE VILLAINS REACHING OUT TO HER AFTER THE LAST FIGHT.

This opens up so many possibilites oh my god

The post was followed by two pages of people commenting.  Three people suggested it was something important, while a half dozen more people decried them as tinfoil hats, Parahumans.net’s term for conspiracy theorists.

Hah! I imagine a message like that would cause speculation even in OUR reality! Considering Taylor’s the protag, those tinfoil hats may be on to something there...

It was meaningful, though.  I couldn’t interpret it any other way; Tattletale had found a way to get in contact with me.

She sure has!

So now both Arms and Tattletale have contacted her, both with offers maybe! Damn, she sure got popular after that one night!

Oh, oooh

What if they offer her to join them?

And what if she accepts?

Oh god the story could go in a wildly different direction now. I hadn’t even considered that in my list of possibilities!

It seems at odd with her desire to be a hero, so maybe not.... But what if?

I’m liking where this is going.

[connywrites]

of flesh and blood 18

start - part [17]

-

The day went on as usual, and Gavin wondered if he’d imagined everything from the night before.

It didn’t help that everything was different around him, too. The way people called his name, how they acknowledged his existence at all, treating him with respect, creating a new universal ambiance he wasn’t quite used to. Work went relatively well, as he’d left his ego at the door upon arriving and kept his prim and proper nature up throughout the day without any mistakes. The life he was living felt like an excerpt from a book, or watching a movie as he saw the people move around him, talk to each other as well as himself, but there was a recognizable distance between himself and everything else. Disassociation wasn’t unusual to him, but the extremity was new; the way he felt so out of place, like a puppet on strings, shuffling the paperwork in front of him with a look of exhaustion.

They’d never trusted him with paperwork. This wasn’t his part of the field. The responsibility weighed heavily on his shoulders; RK900 spoke often of how well he was doing, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had no idea who, what, or where he was, and looking at bulky lengths of texts still made his vision go blurry and his head ache. There was a reason he didn’t touch it, but now he’d been ‘granted’ with the nitty gritty details as well. He’d been promoted but he felt demoted with the way he was handling printer paper like it was the early 2000s, malcontent with his position, just as he always was.

At least it was easy; onto the scanner, through the printer, on a pile by the desk. Over and over. The nice clothes he’d developed a habit of wearing always grew itchy, but it made people treat him with a bit more respect, something he didn’t entirely mind even if it was strange and unusual. By the time work was over, he headed home, unlocking his door more diligently as he swung it open and expected the RK900 within his own sight. Sure enough, it beckoned with its eyes from the couch, laying haphazardly over the cushions with its head leaned against the armrest. Gavin was unsure what to do right away, frozen in place for a few seconds before closing the door behind him and turning all the latches to lock it a total of six times.

“Welcome home,” it purred. Gavin immediately felt sick to his stomach, trying to decide if he really wanted to ask a computer some questions just to get his evening routine through with. Slugging down the rest of his coffee, he tossed the empty cup across the room, missing the trashcan by a few inches but seeming unphased by the fact.

“Good to see you too,” Gavin mumbled. Remembering to keep his posture straight, he stiffened up, nudging off his shoes and leaving them at the door before he paused, not sure what to do. He didn’t want to go near the android, but he didn’t want to try and avoid it, either; the way it chased him was scarier than if he’d tolerated its presence in the first place.

“Thank you for doing what I asked of you.” Sighing, Gavin nodded, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose in a moment of stress.

“Yes. S-sorry, again, sir. For what happened.”

“Take ownership for your actions, jackass.” Gavin flinched his eyes shut tight, and it took all his willpower not to scowl.

“Right. Er, sorry for what I did. To you.” Feeling stupid, he entwined his hands together, nudging the flat of his thumbs together awkwardly.

“Better. Care to come sit down? I’ll put something on TV.” Gavin didn’t feel brave enough to say no, but still felt reluctant to say yes. Opting not to speak at all, he walked over to sit on the couch. The android shifted to face him, leaning forward to slide off his jacket, then moving to unbotton his shirt as it half undressed him, leaving him topless. Letting it, Gavin felt both vulnerable from the invasive action yet grateful to shed the stiff clothes; missing his old leather hooded jacket that the android had thrown away, he mentally noted to set aside the money to replace it once the RK900 was out of his life for good.

Placing its hands flat to his chest, it pushed him back, shifting to lay on top of him and rest its head over his heart, glancing at the TV to turn it on. Gavin tried to relax, but his heart raced, deciding to test the affection aspect for himself by tentatively reaching to touch its hair and pausing to appreciate the soft texture of it. The thing didn’t sweat, so it’d never have to wash, dry or cut it. It always looked properly well-groomed, so it made sense why it was so insistent on such a thing. Sometimes it felt like living with a pretentious rich person, but he mentally noted another reminder to be grateful, as it had told him to do so many times before. There was nothing to complain about when his life was on track, his coworkers took him seriously, his job was going well and the bills were paid, but he wished he wasn’t afraid to come back to his own home because of an element he could do nothing to help – even when he’d tried, he quickly learned never to do that again, ultimately backing him further into his own corner of fear. Yesterday was definitely one he’d remember for the rest of his life, and he certainly regretted it. Regretted that it didn’t go through and the android was waiting for him at home instead of sent back to Cyberlife, or better, left as scrap metal in the junkyard dumps.

“Can we fuck?” It blinked, glancing up in the direction of his face.

“You want that?” Pausing as it acknowledged his racing heartbeat, it glanced down at his chest and ran its hand over it with the tone of its synthetic, pale skin washing away while it did a quick analysis. Disturbed to the see the plastic, Gavin gave the appendage a strange glare.

“Nevermind,” he redecided, suddenly feeling repulsed by the android all over again.

“Your blood sugar is low. I’ll order dinner now,” it stated, and he blinked with surprise.

“Thanks,” he muttered barely loud enough for its microphones to pick up. Sighing, he shifted, feeling uncomfortable being pinned beneath the android’s weight. Restless, a hand maneuvered to reach around its shoulders as he attempted to see if it made him feel any better. It didn’t. He wanted to puke.

“You’ll be happy to know I’ll be replaced in a week,” it stated seemingly out of the blue, causing him to freeze as he heard the words but didn’t immediately register the information.

“A week?” he repeated.

“Like, next Tuesday?”

“Yes. Like next Tuesday,” it parroted with only a hint of snark in its voice. The idea seemed surreal. The calendar in his head didn’t matter; only that it was going to be the longest week he had yet, he imagined. Unsure what to say, he felt the need to leave the couch, compelled to get up and move but unable to escape his position.

“How do you feel about it?” It was an oddly humane question, but Gavin was legitimately curious if RK900 had any particular persuasion one way or another.

“I don’t,” it stated simply. Gavin didn’t immediately accept the sentiment considering 900 now had emotions, but also believed it considering how stoic the android was by nature.

“Then it’ll be an easy transition, right?”

“Easy for me,” it responded knowingly. Gavin didn’t like the apprehension it left in the air, knowing the statement was pointed at him in a future depiction of how hard it was going to be to let the android go, whether he liked it or not.

“I’ll be fine,” he said with more confidence than he actually had.

“I don’t want you to fail,” it said in a voice with boldness that told him it was being honest.

“Why not? What do you care?” He watched his words halfway, gauging where the RK900’s mood was at by the tension on its facial expression, which was relatively calm for now as long as he didn’t push its buttons.

“Do you think I want all of the time we’ve spent together to go to waste? Please. I have created something incredible and who wants their accomplishments to fall apart as soon as they’re gone?” Gavin narrowed his eyes at being called an accomplishment, but didn’t comment.

“Don’t you want something out of all this?” Gavin peered at it skeptically, but it held a rather innocently confused expression.

“What in the world would I want from you?”

“Anything that would be useful to you, I guess,” he half-snapped with a mocking tinge to his voice; enough to catch the android’s attention without getting scolded. He’d found the orange zone and seemed content staying there.

“What would be most useful to me is what would best benefit Cyberlife, and that’s you continuing to work hard and behave well. Ultimately, that’s all I could ‘desire’ from you.” Gavin closed his eyes, taking in the information as he questioned himself as to why he’d expect any other answer.

-

He felt its fingertips on his face, even when he woke up and it wasn’t nearby.

“Don’t you wish I could stay?” He’d been unable to tell it was a dream at the time, considering his mind never cared to differentiate while he was unconscious.

“You’ll be useless without me. You know you will.” The voice was crisp to his ears, almost as vibrant as the visage itself; Nines standing with the sunset behind it, casting its form in a silhouette, on the beach of the Salt Lakes with that usual, tender gaze in its eyes as it opened its arms, offering him somewhere to go. Somewhere warm, safe. Somewhere he was supposed to trust.

“You’re nothing without me.” It’s words became threatening, and its gaze grew dark. In real life, he’d have expected nothing different; in the scape of his dreams, he was confused, bewildered, terrified.

“You won’t survive once I’m gone.” Why? What was the use of repeating itself? The fact it told him not to use you statements yet constantly accused him never left his mind, but it was an immature, childish thought in favor of something much more complex. The way RK900 smothered him in double-standards and split-second attitude changes was confusing and frustrating, alongside terrifying, leaving his psyche twirling in the enigma day after day.

He attacked it. It attacked back. It didn’t stop attacking, but he started listening, and it somewhat ceased. What did this mean?

“Won’t you miss me?”

He still felt the tender touch of its hands when he woke up, eyes wide, staring at the ceiling with an offending gaze as if it were the one to plunge him back into this twisted reality versus the one his own mind had constructed. At the time being, he wasn’t sure which was worse.

It left him in a tired daze all day, having not collected enough REM sleep from the night terrors and sweating fits, tossing and turning between memory and imagination alone creating a collage that was his thoughts and feelings over the RK900 that he didn’t understand.

Maybe that was scariest of all; the way it didn’t make any sense, and as soon as Gavin thought he had an idea of what it was thinking or doing, it seemed to change its mind in the blink of his eye. Was it designed to do that? Or was he a particular exception? Should he have spoken up about it sooner?

No, no, no. It was too late now. Nothing had been done, and it was only a matter of time to wait until something else came along. Hopefully something better – and not worse.

Gavin thought back to their first days together, when the android was but a stranger, an annoyance on the team as it corrected his sentences and proved him wrong at every turn. Then, it was covered in android blood. Then it was gone. Then it was back. Then he’d done something unforgivable. Then he was being tossed around his own home like a ragdoll, being ripped apart by the seams as RK900 tore into him with literal nails and metaphorical teeth.

It didn’t stop. Watching him, following him, demanding him, shocking him, hitting him. Every day, every hour. Every minute, maybe each passing second. He wasn’t sure, but it definitely felt like it.

-

“Don’t touch me,” he hissed as he swatted its hand away without meaning to; he hadn’t thought twice about it, still in a simply instinctive state of mind, as he often was when he’d just woken. The RK900 lifted its eyebrows, deciding to let Gavin determine his own wrongdoings rather than speak for him. It was growing used to these routinely slip-ups, and Gavin smacking his palm to his face showed he’d already regretted it without it demanding for another change in his behavior.

“Sorry,” he murmured. It accepted, appearing placated.

“I hate waking up,” he murmured, mostly to himself as he sat up and rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands.

“What do you dread about it?” Its voice was simply curious, which he appreciated for the pure sake of the fact it wasn’t already angry at him.

“Uh, everything,” he spat, yawning and shivering, pulling the blanket around himself again—ever since the 900 had him start sleeping in less to no clothes, he’d woken up freezing. Offering no sympathy, it ripped away the bedding and smacked him on the back – right over its own graciously-indented scar – and shoved him forth to force him off the bed.

“I didn’t make your first cup of coffee this morning,” it said unprompted. This time Gavin flashed it a downright glare, squinting with narrowed eyelids under shadowed eyebrows as irritation increased the redness in his sclera; he looked exhausted.

“I think you’ll do fine without it.” Gavin didn’t care enough about the coffee anymore, dismissing it for the fact he was meagerly grateful it didn’t want to beat him up over something.

“Oh yeah, orange juice,” he murmured.

“It’s a weekend… I get caffeine on the weekends,” he reconsidered, feeling like a punished preteen as he glanced at his own closed door, thinking about the kitchen in that general direction.

“Not anymore.” Gavin closed his eyes. Sighing prevented him from feeding into the anger and doing something stupid, so he collected a few more deep breaths.

“Can I have a chai tea?”

“Definitely,” it stated as if it were but a simple request, standing from the bed to make way out of the bedroom and down the hallway.

Grateful to have a moment to himself, Gavin closed his eyes and threshed back against the mattress, allowing himself to bury his face into the pillow and sink chest-down into the blankets and let out a tired groan before he tried to drift back into sleep, blanketed with lethargy.

-

“What would you like for lunch?” Gavin paused at the question, but couldn’t think about the answer.

“When you’re not here am I supposed to be allowed to order my own shit again?” Slightly snarky, a bit sarcastic, with laughter at the end; in the past, it would have gotten him hit, but RK900 granted him some wriggle room over time, as he’d shown he could behave otherwise. A stark irony, in his mind, but if it let him show a bit of his personality a bit more than it had been, he couldn’t exactly complain.

“Yes,” it stated simply. Clearing his throat, he shifted so he wouldn’t scratch his hair by habit, despite being in sweats on a weekend – 900 would catch the motion nonetheless, so he dismissed it.

“You set me up for failure,” he said flatly, only recognizing the assumption as it fell from his lips; but this time, he didn’t respond.

“I should smack you for being so ungrateful,” it said with snide, snarling towards him at a downcast angle, yet remained physically distant for the time being.

“Don’t turn this against me, detective Reed. You’ve had the ability to order, make and cook your own food this entire time, well before I arrived into your life.” Folding his arms, Gavin pouted, glancing off to one side as he wondered who was really right, but didn’t argue.

-

“What if I extinguished your life before mine was dismissed?”

There was a particular darkness within Gavin that he didn’t often show, and he wasn’t about to explain his game plan to an android trying to play mind tricks with him. This was the last time.

“What if?” Gavin’s eyebrows raised in tune with flaring nostrils, gray eyes meeting silver in a strikingly fearless way. It told the android he was feeling particularly brave, for better or worse, and its facial expressions signaled to him that there was, indeed, fear within it over the idea of being replaced and extinguished.

“Here’s your chance.” Gavin’s words were nonchalant, and thus all the more provoking.

“But tell me, first,” he commanded with a sarcastically nigh on friendly tone to his voice, “why you wanna kill me so bad?” As if surprised by the question, it blinked a few times, causing Gavin to scoff in response as he mocked the fact it took this long to consider such a thing.

“Why did you want to kill me so badly?” Its words were striking, and his body ran stiff, skin turning pale.

“I don’t know,” he spit back immediately, an identifier of honesty. With its internal drive to locate a certain answer, the response struck the android with offensive surprise, leaving it to stare at him with a glare of impossibility.

Gavin waited for it to ask another question while it anticipated his next inquiry. Lips twitching, he took it upon himself to say something before he could give up the chance of being antagonized again.

In this moment, it felt a twitch in its arms with a prompt that insisted Gavin would listen better if he were in a more comfortable position mentally, and by extension, physical comfort might help as well. Hands on his shoulders, the idea he might refuse its touch based on the fact it was potentially dangerous went entirely dismissed.

“What do you remember?” Gavin was statuesque in his place, eyes glossing over as he stared ahead and revisited that night.

“Hitting you. Punching. Anger.” None of it was a surprise to him, and the android wasn’t terribly moved by his words.

“After that?” It knew he didn’t want to revisit that night, and the cold realization left him at a loss for words. The strong tone in its voice struck the deeply embedded memories like a cord, vibrating to the front of his mind from the darkness of his hazy subconscious. All at once, in bright flashes, there was the morbid sight of the scene he’d created; bullet holes, knife gashes, eyeless sockets and displaced facial plates. A mess of liquid thirium. Instinct made him cringe, but his consciousness brought him back to the present, letting him open his eyes even if he couldn’t look directly into the android’s.

“More anger.” He stated it as if it were fact, monotone and bold, telling the fact both to the 900 as well as himself. Anger. That was all it took to ruin his life, and this wasn’t the first time he’d faced dangerous consequences, mentally cursing himself in spite of the irony.

“What else?”

Gavin swallowed.

“Your voice. You told me something.” The way it sounded less human as the moments passed that night still haunted his mind in split-second intervals. It was eerie and downright awful, the high pitch of the autotune grating on eardrum and microphone alike, leaving him with a ring that resonated in his ears long after its ‘last words’ to him.

It never stopped speaking. In his head it might have been the worst part; the way it berated him, scolded him, praised him, mocked him, taunted him, fundamentally challenged him or simply whispered sweet nothings into his ears, the sound was stuck in his mind.

The way its speaker distorted, however, he’d never forget. The particular tone in its voice even as he stepped on it over and over again still struck him in his nightmares, and the robot autotune when it assured it would haunt him was nothing but a grain of salt in the wound that was his current situation.

“I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do.” Gavin rubbed his forehead with a disgruntled noise.

“Something about…not winning… I don’t know. I was angry, or something.”

“You’re angry no matter what,” it reminded him. Gavin threw it a glare, wearing an expression that made him look dumber than he really was.

“Right,” he admitted out of complete loss. Nines scrunched its nose with a glance of distaste in his direction, wondering if he really didn’t take anything it had said into account.

“I was dying beneath your feet, at your own hands, and you don’t even remember what I told  you?” It knew it would tip him, and that was exactly what it was searching for; the way his eyes flashed wide, immediately struck with rage as frustration dug into his psyche first and foremost.

“Oh don’t talk like that you—” For the first time, he smacked his hand to his mouth to stop from talking as he caught himself right in the middle of the act. RK900 looked unamused.

“No, you know, I mean, I don’t know what was going on but it’s not like that, okay?” Neither of them had any idea what he meant.

“Yes it was,” 900 retorted nonetheless.

“I don’t remember,” Gavin said swiftly in hopes for a cop-out.

“Yes you do,” it stated again.

“You just weren’t listening.” Shutting his mouth, he dropped his expression and squared his shoulders, appeasing the android at least slightly.

“You’re not a swift learner, are you?” Gavin’s eyebrow twitched, but that was all.

“Anyway, the point is moot. You didn’t gain anything in your endeavor, and I was still right. What happened will scare you until your dying day, if you let it,” it stated, flattening the front of its jacket in a moment of idling. Gavin said nothing.

“You’re still angry, aren’t you?”

“Livid,” he said sharply enough to guarantee the sincerity in his words.

“At what? Me? Yourself?” There was a nearly playful tone to its voice as it tilted its head with a gaze much too innocent for its general demeanor. Gavin did his best to ignore how unsettling it was.

“Yeah,” he said, lacking any other explanation. Looking nonplussed, 900 sighed.

“You don’t even know what you’re upset about,” it told him in a voice that held mock disappointment. He blinked, raising his eyebrows with a dumbfounded gaze.

“Everything,” Gavin murmured, but sharply enough he wanted it to be obvious.

“As you know,” he added. Closing its eyes, it was its turn to nodd once in acceptance.

“Indeed. So leads to the aspect of your life I may never be able to change. Though I am pleased with how I’ve affected your frustration and responses to such, I can’t get rid of it and nothing will stop you if you start a downward spiral after I am gone.” Lost in its wisdom, Gavin thought through all the years and revisited the frustrations he’d had over his lifetime, from being strictly disciplined at a young age to how badly he wanted to shove a cocked gun down the throat of a particular co-worker or three he’d particularly had it out for. How he fought to get decent scores since gradeschool, the way fellow peers glared him down once word had spread he was gay, the many times he’d shot himself in the foot that constantly seemed stuck in his mouth. Every exhausted night trying to sleep scrunched together in a sudden blur, every police file, piece of paperwork, bad word someone on the street had told him or the way they looked at him the wrong way. Staring was a big one, and one he never cared to share, but 900 knew or it wouldn’t glare him so deeply in the eyes for minutes on end the way it did.

Every fear reawakened, from the idea of maggots eating his corpse to the glistening blue-black wiring beneath the android’s skin he was so keenly aware of at all times.

“What do you know about anger, Gavin?”

“It masks fear,” he responded as if it were basic textbook knowledge, unmoving from his posture.

“And what do you know about fear?”

“I have a lot of it.” The wry laugh it exhaled seemed to climb up his spine with a billion tiny prickling hairs.

“What else?”

“That I shouldn’t take it out on others.”

“Good,” it chimed with a pleased smile, opening its eyes as if to gift him with its rewarding expression.

“What are you going to do when I’m gone?”

“Utilize what I have at home.” Gavin couldn’t deny how helpful it was to have a punching bag and workout equipment in the garage.

“And when a co-worker does something you dislike?” Being talked to like a child was beginning to get on his nerves, and it showed in his souring expression.

“I will neglect to acknowledge the event happened,” he responded, trying to expand his vocabulary usage in the process.

“Good,” it praised with another affirmative nod.

“And when all hope seems lost?” Gavin blinked in confusion, aware it surely knew it hadn’t left him with instructions for that. Gavin stared at it with a gaze that asked the question he was too afraid to.

“Well, I wish I could say rely on your instincts, but that doesn’t prove very effective for you,” it elaborated with a soft sigh.

“Stick to what you know. Arguing isn’t worth it. Don’t complain, do something. Above all else, don’t fail.” Fail what, he wasn’t sure, deciding it was a generalizing phrase and accepted it to mean everything. He dipped his chin for a bow of acceptance.

“And no more caffeine,” it quipped. He winced at the thought, but nodded.

[prevdustinhendrsn]

chroma

jonathan byers/steve harrington 2.5k - read on ao3 new spring - part i. part ii. part iii.

a/n: it’s been almost an entire year since blue jay!! i never planned on expanding it into something more until several months ago so here is part two of a three-part stonathan series. this whole trilogy is dedicated to Lucy, who originally requested blue jay <3

Seeing Steve Harrington is not on Jonathan’s agenda today. In fact, it isn’t anywhere remotely near his agenda until his older-than-Rome, sorry excuse for a car stubbornly refuses to start in the school parking lot. He’s the last one there, having lingered to develop some photos he took the afternoon before. Two-thirds of them came out slightly blurry thanks to the minor tremble in his hands, but he’s not surprised. He doesn’t know if he even has the capacity to be surprised anymore.

A glance at the dash tells him all he needs to know. He slumps back into his seat with a heavy sigh, the fabric creaking under his weight as he presses his palms against his eyes. I filled up the tank two days ago. Just two days. Didn’t I? His hands drop to his lap. Out in the lot, a plastic sack blows across the concrete like tumbleweed, drifting and flying and finally getting snagged in the bushes. Didn’t I?

All his receipts are kept in the glove compartment, but he can’t find the courage to lean over and see if there’s a recent one from the gas station in there. He doesn’t really want to know the answer.

He shakes his head. He’s fine. He’s just not getting enough sleep because he’s cramming for finals, so things slip sometimes. It isn’t a big deal; this stuff happens to everyone. Tell that to the shaking, his brain snaps back to his half-assed self-reassurances. He glances at his hands, resting on the wheel. They’re not shaking. They’re just…

Whatever. He’s got bigger things to worry about than himself right now; namely, gas. He has to get home so he can shower, do some homework, get to his shift later. He mulls it over, watching the orange tree-shaped car freshener swing from the mirror. He could walk. There’s a spare gas can in the trunk, and the station isn’t far. On a day like this, with spring blooming in its full chromatic glory all across town, it would probably be a peaceful bit of solitude.

Or…he drums his fingers on the wheel, considering. For once, there’s no imminent obligations he’s got to deal with. His mom has her car and Will already rode home from school with Dustin so nobody is expecting him, and he doesn’t work until tonight. He could get some sleep right now, take a quicker shower than usual, get to work on time, and do the homework later.

His eyelids are already drooping now that he’s entertaining the idea. It’s a great idea, he thinks lazily.

His exhaustion doesn’t need to be told twice. He rolls down the windows and adjusts to a more comfortable position in his seat, letting his eyes drift shut. With the gentle spring breeze floating through the car and across his face, carrying the smell of a new season, he falls asleep in no time.

It doesn’t feel like long before he’s startled awake by the loud slam of a door. He glances around, surprised mostly just because he wasn’t expecting it. He doesn’t sleep deep enough to be disoriented upon waking.

There’s someone in his passenger seat, someone who evidently just arrived going by the sound of the door. But…it can’t be. Really? Jonathan squints at the person next to him. Messy hair that was definitely worked at, familiar sunglasses from the expensive store in the mall, that shit-eating grin that flip-flops his stomach even now.

Steve tosses his sunglasses onto the dash and beams at him. “What’s up, Byers? Get your eight hours?”

Jonathan sits back with a sigh, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. “What the hell are you doing in my car?”

Steve frowns, feigning confusion. “The doors were unlocked.”

Jonathan decides that if he were an emotion incarnate, he’d be exasperation. Steve just evokes that response a hundred percent of the time. It’s a fond sort of exasperation though, since things haven’t been hostile between them in a long while. “Steve -“

Steve’s expression drops immediately back into a grin, not a care in the world in his eyes. “Dude, you can’t just leave your car unlocked with the windows down and not expect people to jump in.”

“I can, actually, it’s called human decency.”

Steve shrugs, already moving on as he digs through a white paper sack he brought with him. Jonathan vaguely recognizes the bright yellow logo on the side. “Hope you’re hungry,” he says, tossing a warm foil-wrapped burger into Jonathan’s lap. Belatedly, Jonathan realizes there’s two Styrofoam cups in the car’s cupholders as well.

He slowly picks up the burger, glancing over at Steve, who’s already peeling the foil off his own. “You...brought me food?”

“Well, yeah. Good shit, too. You ever been to Meg’s? By the park?”

“Um, which park?”

“The one with the metal slide that crisps your ass in July.”

He snorts. “Yeah, once, I think. With Nancy.”

A delayed moment after he says it, he realizes he’s not sure why he mentioned her. Maybe it’s just his conscience reminding them both that this is the second time they’ve been together without her, their buffer. Either way, Steve doesn’t seem to have noticed.

The burger is way better than Jonathan was expecting. He’s not sure when the last time he ate was. Did he have lunch at school today? He can’t remember.

After a minute, Steve hands him a packet of fries from the bag, nodding when he says thanks. Though Steve keeps his eyes fixed out on the parking lot as he works through his food, Jonathan can’t help staring at him. Spring really is a good look on him. It pinks his cheeks and softens his sharp edges, makes his laugh fuller and his eyes brighter.

I really am losing it, Jonathan thinks, forcing his mind past it. He picks up the Styrofoam cup closest to him and looking questioningly to Steve.

“Lemonade,” Steve answers after finishing the bite in his mouth. “Not poisoned.”

Jonathan sips at it. “How’d you know I was here?”

Steve shrugs. “Didn’t see your car at work when I drove by so I thought you might be doing pictures or something.”

Jonathan idly taps a finger on the steering wheel. Why were you looking for me? “How’d you know I don’t like tomatoes on my burger?”

Steve glances over, lips quirking. “Lucky guess.” A beat, then, “Your hands still giving you grief?”

Jonathan looks down. Why is it always Steve that seems to notice this, of all people? The only other person who’s mentioned it is Will, and like hell Jonathan is about to unload his minor issues on his little brother. He grips the cup a little tighter. “Yeah. But I don’t know why. I’m not actively scared; it’s not like I’m afraid of the dark or something.” That’s been a lie since eighty-three, but Steve doesn’t need to know that. “It’s just…anxiety, I guess.”

“Shouldn’t you do something about it?”

A dry laugh escapes him. “Like what? See a therapist? I’m fine, Steve. It’s just my hands not listening to my head.”

It feels like the truth, since it’s what he’s been telling himself for months now, and Steve mercifully decides to let it go.

It’s unexpectedly nice, having him here. He pretty much radiates self-confidence and relaxation, and Jonathan doesn’t have to keep up a conversation for it to be comfortable, so that’s two points to something good. But there’s also Jonathan’s recently developed crush that he has to deal with. It’s annoying, to say the least, because it just won’t leave him alone. It keeps him up at night, which is ridiculous, and it trickles into his thoughts during the day, in History and Economics and at work when he has nothing else to focus on, which is even more ridiculous. He’ll look down the locker hall to see Steve smiling at him, for absolutely no reason, and he’ll have to smile back because it’s contagious and fuzzes his brain. Honestly. Since when did Steve start smiling at him, anyways?

He forces his eyes back to the parking lot, thinking back to last week when Steve came by his house and they went for a walk. A walk. Never would he have expected that yet there they were, walking, talking, even laughing together, just because he had said yes when Steve asked.

He remembers the way Steve had set his hand on top of Jonathan’s to steady him so he could take a picture. Jonathan hates that he still isn’t over it. It probably wasn’t even a big deal to Steve. He feels like a goddamn middle schooler.

“What are you still doing here, anyways?” Steve asks, snapping Jonathan back to the present. “School got out, like, two hours ago.”

“I was sleeping,” he says exasperatedly, squishing his burger foil into a ball and flinging it at Steve’s head.

“Rude,” Steve quips, smiling anyways. “Don’t people normally sleep in their beds, y’know, at home?”

Jonathan glances at the dash just to make sure he wasn’t imagining things earlier. Still on E. “I’m out of gas.”

“So you were gonna dream some up?”

“God, you’re such a project sometimes, you know that?”

Steve grins. “Hey, I don’t judge. Dream logic is solid logic. I like it. What I am judging you on is the fact that you slept in the front seat instead of the back. Seriously, look at this,” he says, craning around in his seat. “There’s tons of space back here, weirdo. And honestly –“

He stops short, reaching out to something in the backseat. Jonathan frowns, turning. “What?”

Oh. Messily spread across the upholstery are the two dozen photos he just developed; he hasn’t gotten around to putting them away. Steve’s hand stops midair and he glances back at Jonathan.

“Can I look at these?”

“Um, yeah, if you want.”

Steve nods and grabs them all, resettling in his seat to go through them one by one. Jonathan watches his face as he does so, slightly unnerved. They’re mostly just nature photos and some candid shots of his family, but it’s still odd to have someone scrutinize them. He absently realizes that he actually cares what Steve thinks about them, about him. Of course he does.

Steve looks up at him halfway through the stack, disbelief painted on his features. “Jonathan, these are insane.”

Jonathan glances at the topmost photo. “It’s a creek in a forest.”

“It’s an amazing creek in an amazing forest because this picture that you took is so amazing.”

“It’s blurry.”

“Barely. Why don’t you sell these or something?”

Jonathan shrugs and Steve shakes his head, looking back to the photos. There’s a glittering hummingbird on a bright pink flower, a game trail worn into the brush-filled forest floor, a view from the edge of the quarry cliffs at sunrise.

“Man. You’re talented,” he finally says, handing the stack over. That fuzzy feeling fills up Jonathan’s head again as he takes the photos, their fingers brushing just so.

“Thanks,” he says quietly, replacing the photos in the backseat. Accepting compliments was never his strong suit.

A few quiet moments pass, the faint rustle of leaves making its way through the open windows, and then Steve says, quite out of nowhere, “I’m sorry.”

Jonathan blinks, looking over. Incredibly, he’s not surprised that Steve has just said those words. It takes him a second to sort out exactly what he’s feeling, but then he realizes: he’s surprised that he’s not surprised. Three years ago, sure, he would laugh at the idea of an apology coming from Steve Harrington’s mouth, but now…

He doesn’t know what to say. Steve turns away from the windshield to look at him, some unrecognizable emotion on his face. Longing, maybe. For what? Forgiveness? Him?

You’re losing it.

Steve holds his gaze, slightly desperate for Jonathan to hear him. “I really am sorry. I know that doesn’t cover it, but…I haven’t really said it to you yet, and you deserve to hear it, so. I’m sorry, Jonathan. And I get it if you’re not ready to be friends with me or anything. That’s not why I’m saying this. But I want you to know that I’m trying to be better now. I’m going to be a better person. And I’m not mad about Nancy, if you, y’know, thought that. If she’s happy with you and you’re happy with her, that’s awesome. Seriously, I want that for you two. So I’m just…I’m sorry. For everything.”

Jonathan can’t do much more than stare at him. He should hate Steve. He used to, and he has every right to still. But when he thinks about it, any anger he can muster is halfhearted at best. He knows it was Steve who cleaned up the graffitied movie theater sign three years ago without ever asking for any credit; a theater employee told him. It was a shitty thing to do in the first place and he should’ve cleaned it up regardless, but God, Jonathan is tired of holding grudges. How can people grow if there’s no forgiveness? The love Steve had for Nancy was true, even though they may not have been the best match. He and Jonathan haven’t talked about it, but when shit started hitting the fan for the first time, Steve had been there at Jonathan’s house to apologize to him. He didn’t even know Nancy was there. And he came back in to fight. Later on he helped the kids when he could have just skipped town and saved his own ass. He’s long since left his old friends behind, even though he knew doing so would leave him friendless.

He has me.

“It’s okay,” Jonathan says quietly. “I don’t – it’s okay.”

Steve eyes him hesitantly. “You don’t have to say that just because –“

“I’m serious. I don’t hate you. Nancy doesn’t hate you. You’re a good person, Steve, you just…made some mistakes, like we all do. But it’s okay.”

Steve blows out a long breath, his relief palpable in the way his shoulders relax. “Okay. Great. You don’t want me to leave?”

Jonathan shakes his head. Kind of the opposite, actually. “You brought me food,” he says, allowing himself a smile. “You get a pass.”

Steve’s expression turns a happy sort of incredulous, like he never expected it to be that easy. “I didn’t do it just to get into your good graces, you know.”

Jonathan rolls his eyes. “I know.” He hesitates, weary of the answer to his next question, but he decides to ask it anyways. “Why did you do it?”

Steve falters, suddenly unable to meet his eyes. “Just ‘cause, I guess. I thought you might appreciate it. I know you’re always busy and stuff.” He looks up with a wry smile. “And believe it or not, I like hanging out with you, Byers.”

Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Don’t say it. “Me too.”

Steve grins. “You like hanging out with yourself too?”

“Fuck off,” he groans, punching Steve’s shoulder. Steve laughs, full and light, and he pushes open the car door.

“Come on. You got a spare gas can? You can ride with me.”

Jonathan takes the few seconds he has alone to stare at himself in the rearview mirror. There’s a ridiculously happy smile on his face, a rarity his whole life. You really are losing it, he thinks.

It’s not so terrible.

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@calpurnias @summer-in-hawkins @she-who-the-river-could-not-hold @you-wont-lose-me @caseyk112

[imagine-that-one-thing]

Styles Towers. || 6

Author’s Note: Hey hey!! Here is part 6, I hope you enjoy it! Let me know what you think.

Rated M for Mature audiences. Chapter One. Chapter Two. Chapter Three.

Don’t forget the other links: The first book Can also be found on WattPad, HERE. The first book found HERE

You can find my blurb Master list HERE

                                                              || For Richer or for Poorer. ||

I concede quietness to overpower the two of us while we are in the elevator.

I can’t believe Harry handed things over to Logan, I can’t believe they’re brothers, I can’t believe I was never informed. I wonder what else he has kept a secret from me. There has perpetually been a side to him that he doesn’t talk about very often, a side that has mystery that I have yet to unravel. I have always given him his space and not force him to tell me the things that he doesn’t want to,  but now, now I feel as though I don’t know him as well as I thought I did..

How did he manage to keep Logan a secret and tell anyone after all these years? I have so many questions yet so little answers.

Harry doesn’t say a word as my eyes watch the numbers declining in the elevator, eventually leaving us on the lobby floor.

“Harry, you just handed him your pride and joy,” I break the silence between us as the elevator door opens and we step into the lobby,

“I’m aware.” He nods coolly, not seeming too concerned, I don’t know how.

His business is/was everything to him, this business has been his baby essentially, it has been his life since he started it up, he has never mentioned giving it up, selling it, or anything, minus the few occasions he was exhausted and jokingly commenting how he wants to sell it and move somewhere far away.

“Harry, that’s everything you’ve ever worked for and you’re giving it straight to him.” … “no, that’s not right.” I shake my head stepping away from Harry and advancing towards the elevator, ready to leap into action with my feet hammering the marbled floor so I can give Logan a piece of my mind, but I’m stymied by Harry’s hand wrapping around my wrist.

I turn to face him and he shakes his head, “I can fight my own battles, let it be, Elle. If he destroys the business, let him. I don’t have the energy to continue to fight him on every fucking thing. I have everything that I need.” His voice is low and relaxed, something that doesn’t put me at ease. He is far too calm for my liking.

“And what’s that, Harry?” I question, confused as to how he can give everything up to his brother so easily.

I know if I was him, I would be on the verge of wanting to strangle my brother if he ever thought to ruin me. Then again, I am sure Harry has already thought of that and decided being on trial for murder wasn’t something worth attempting.

He stares at me and gives me a small smile, “everything I need is right in front of me,” he gestures towards me and causes me to slightly blush, after all these years he still makes me bush and my heart flutter at his thoughtful remarks.

“Harry, that’s sweet, but we don’t have an endless supply of money to live off of. Everything primarily comes from this business.”

Harry releases his hand from my wrist and slumps his shoulders into a shrug, “Elise, end of conversation.” Harry narrows his eyes onto me, giving me his ‘CEO’ glare, the one that makes his employers run for the hills, frightened of what he may say next if they do not obey what he has to say. But, it doesn’t bother me. I challenge him all the time with his glare. It doesn’t phase me and I don’t see why he bothers trying to use it on me, he isn’t going to get his own way.

I shake my head “No, you said this was our company, which means I get a say in this and this is bullshit.” I bluntly voice my opinion, finding it ludicrous that Harry is ready to allow Logan to destroy him.

“Elise, enough.” Harry mutters grimly, “now are you coming home with me or not?”

“No, you’re being a prick.” I cross my arms and narrow my eyes onto him.

His body stiffens at the remark, offended and outraged. He heavily huffs and shakes his head before composing himself, “Elise, just trust my judgment, damn, five minutes into the business world and suddenly you’re the genius.” He grumbles, my brows knitting into a frown, more than ready to fight back on his laughable remark. I was thrown into his business, thanks to him. “Fuck, I’m sorry, look… just trust me on this. I’m not trying to be an asshole but just trust me, okay?”

“It’s not like I have a choice,“I murmur lamentably, holding my tongue and not giving him a piece of my mind.

He inhales a deep breath and blows out moderately, "are we going to fight over this?”

“Yes, yes we are.” I nod, “you want to stand here and pretty much say that I get no say in this business but it was good enough for me to have a say in taking control of it when you were dying on me. You didn’t even tell me about your will, it just got fucking thrown at me. Make up your fucking mind Harry, am I in this with you or not?”

He threads a hand through his hair,  "Elise,“ he groans, "yes, I want you apart of this, you’re my wife-” he begins and I cut him off with my hands clapped on my hips, arms crooked like sugar bowl handles.

“Yes, I’m your wife, but you can’t treat me like your wife with this business, in this business we are equal partners.”

He cocks his head left and rolls his eyes to right corner of the ceiling clearly frustrated with me and this argument. “It’s a bit hard when I’m literally sleeping with my partner,” Harry forks his fingers through his hair for the third time, not knowing what else to do with his frustrated hands.

“This isn’t a joke, you know what. Fuck it. I don’t care.” I grunt, shaking my head as I march past him and make my way out of his building.

I push the heavy, gold trimmed door and expose myself to the crisp air of the late July night. I step down the grey steps and give a faked, polite smile to Harry’s driver as he opens the door for me.

Harry slides in beside me and the door closes, for a moment there is silence as his driver gets in the front and Harry gestures for the driver to put up the private divide.  "Elise, Elise look at me for a second.“ Harry requests as he squares an ankle over one knee.

"Fuck off, Harry.”

Harry’s body stiffens at the remark before he inhales a sharp breath, “Elise, if Logan does what he needs with what he has, then so be it, I can’t continue to fight him and manage my business.” He informs me with a calm voice, his hand reaching over for mine but I move it from his. I don’t want to lace my fingers with his.

Maybe I am being too problematic and melodramatic, but I don’t think he should just give up because now, things are too obstinate. I don’t think he should be keeping secrets from me; God only knows how many other secrets he has managed to keep in the closet.

“But you can manage to keep your family a secret from me? You allowed me to work for your brother and didn’t tell me. You have a brother, Harry. Are there any other skeletons in the closet I don’t know about? Another sister? A mistress maybe?”

“For Christ sake, nobody knows about him, he’s the hidden secret and that’s all he deserves to be… let me handle this, I know what I’m doing.”

“Again, do what you want. At this point, I don’t care. It’s your business, it’s your decision, you made that clear. And I hope you realise Logan is a human who has feelings.” I mutter, already exhausted of this argument, he of all people, should know better than to treat people like shit, especially family. Despite Logan’s nonsense, he is still Harry’s brother, it isn’t on his accountability he was the love child, yet Harry is punishing him for the broken issues.

“He didn’t have feelings when he left me after the accident, don’t recall him visiting either.”

“I’m not having this argument with you, I’m tired and quite frankly, I don’t care if you run the business to the ground right now.”

“Okay, Elise.” … “I love you.”

“Fuck off.”

“I love you, Elise. Even though you’re pissed with me, just know I do.”

“That isn’t going to make anything better,” I mutter, my eyes focusing out the window as precipitation slithers its way down the glass, leaving imperfect strokes.

I hear Harry sigh for what is probably the hundredth time before his voice distracts me, “This isn’t just about the business, is it?” he questions as his hand presses to my knee and I draw my eyes from their relentless stare of the window. “Didn’t think so,” he rubs a hand over his dark stubble. Harry inhales a deep breath and blows out gradually, buying time to find words, his subconscious rattling with thoughts. He grows quiet and I rest my head against the window, my eyes closing and taking me away from reality.

***

My eyes gradually open, the sound of the doorbell ringing, the blurry outline of the fireplace and television coming into focus as a few moments go by. I stretch myself on the couch as I rub my eyes, Harry’s voice distracting me, “Hey go back to sleep,” he murmurs as I see him appear from the corner of my eyes standing from the loveseat and walking out of the living room towards the hallway. I sit up and look around, confused as to the events that have happened since I fell asleep in the car. I don’t remember coming inside to the living room. I rub my eyes again and take a glimpse towards the time, squinting to make sure I am reading it correctly, four-fifteen.

I force myself to my feet and make my way down the hallway, far too curious to find out who the hell is at the house this early in the morning. The familiar voice of Logan makes my heart skip a beat as I wander closer to Harry, his body in the doorway as Logan speaks from the outside. I thoroughly caress my hand to Harry’s back, letting him know I am right here as I take his side and he immediately puts his arm around me.

“Harry, will you just let me in?”

“No, you’re not coming into my house. What do you want at this fucking hour?” Harry interrogates with an annoyed tone.

Logan holds the same file Harry gave him in front of the two of us. Before Harry can react, I press my hands to the file, “and the keys?” I narrow my eyes towards Logan, his deadpan expression is enough to tell me he wasn’t expecting me to say a word.

“It’s inside the file.” He gestures towards the continents gripped between the tips of my fingers.

“And what’s to say you’re not trying to double cross him?”

“Elle—,”

“Elise.” Harry instantly corrects his brother. 

Harry despises when anybody else outside of family calls me Elle, and Logan isn’t included in the ‘family’ right now.

“I’m not double-crossing the two of you. It’s your company and it’s my mess that I’m in, I’ll deal with it. Just-, just be careful, okay?” His voice is softer than I’ve ever heard it before, there’s something about it that makes me wonder what’s going through his mind.

“What do you mean by be careful? What did you do?” Harry immediately challenges and I notice Logan’s eyes dart between me and Harry.

“Elle, can you go inside for a minute?” Harry clears his throat a clear indication he wants to get rid of me, but he’s not going to keep more secrets from me, not right now.

I shake my head and stand my ground, a sigh falling from Harry’s lips, “shoot it straight with me, don’t be an irritating twat.”

“Charles Taylor, he is watching you and me.”

“Then I suggest you stay away from me,” Harry grumbles, “I’ll talk to you at a more decent hour, Logan.” Harry instantly dismisses the conversation as a whole and Logan nods, not challenging Harry.

Harry closes the door and saunters down the hallway with ease, “Harry, you forgot something.” I call and he turns on his heel.

He nods with a small grin and comes back towards me.

“Sorry, I’m heading to bed, goodnight.” He kisses my cheek and I frown, my brows knitting. I was not referring to a kiss, I was referring to the remains of his business seized between my fingers.

“Harry, I mean this.” I hold up his file and the key, information that can slaughter him.

“You want apart of the business, don’t you?”

“I guess.” My shoulders rise and fall into a shrug. It isn’t like I have options right now.

“There you go. Keep that safe fo’ me.” He comments as he wanders down the hallway, his voice bouncing off the walls.

He’s troubling me, he’s so fucking calm with this file. It should be clasped between his fingers and guarded with his life.

“Harry, what if he made copies of this? Or he took the parts he needed?”

“He didn’t.”

“How do you know?” I ask, trailing behind him as he walks towards the staircase.

He places his hand on the railing as he turns to wait for me to catch up to him, “When I gave it to him, it was sealed and stamped. It’s in perfect condition. He didn’t play me, surprisingly. Are you coming to bed with me or not?” He challenges, his eyes staring at me as he awaits my response. I still have no idea how he isn’t worried or scrambling for answers to the so many questions that need answers.

What is the reason behind Logan needing the business?

Who is going to be so relentless to continue to watch Logan?

“What does he mean by Charles is watching you? That’s really disturbing.”

Harry sighs, “don’t worry, I have it handled. I haven’t slept yet so I need to get to bed. You should do the same.“ … "First day of fucking work and I get bombarded with Logan’s monstrosity,” Harry murmurs lamentably as he surmounts the stairs my hand pressed to his back out of habit. He is still working on his strength and physical therapy and these stairs make me skittish whenever he is going up and down them.

***

It’s nothing new for me to wake up abandoned in the bed between cold sheets that haven’t been accompanied by Harry in quite a while, it is usually once a week he ends up leaving me once I fall asleep to go back down to his office, but I had hoped after his accident his CEO tendencies wouldn’t be so bad. I had hoped he’d spend a little less time working and a little more time enjoying his life. I sigh to myself and attempt to go back to sleep, but I just can’t. I don’t admire sleeping without him, it might sound clingy, but I prefer to know he is sleeping beside me than wrecking his brain over work. I launch the covers off of my body and I swing my legs over the edge to enable my feet to pad against the floorboards of the bedroom. I make my way down the hallway and tailgate the dim light from downstairs. I know exactly where he is, there is only one place he goes to at this hour of the morning. His office. “Harry, come back upstairs,” I sigh as I step into his office and  I see him amongst scattered files and papers, a mess all around him. He shakes his head without even looking up at me. “Harry, what’s going on?” I softly question, his eyes glued to his laptop screen as he runs his fingers through his hair. Usually, when I encounter him in his office at the early hours of a morning, he’s habitually calm and just re-reading over clients files, preparing for meetings or preparing for business events. But right now, there’s a look to him I can’t wholly understand. He looks pissed, stressed, and anxious all in one. “Elise, just—, for fuck’s sake,” he mutters lamentably, “go to bed.” He instructs, throwing a file to the wall with force before shoving everything off his desk, forcing it to the floor.

I stare at him for a moment, unaware of what to do. I have never seen him express such outrage, I have heard about times he has launched things around his office out of frustration, but I have never witnessed it for myself. “Harry, what’s going on?” I challenge again, taking my chances and stepping closer, stepping around everything now on the floor as I press my hand to his shoulder. “Elise, Leave me alone.” He grumbles through his teeth, “damnit, why can’t you just listen? You’re damn annoying.” He huffs as I don’t listen to his commands and go back upstairs.

I take a breath and try not to take what he has to say to heart, he doesn’t mean it, I hope. He is just frustrated, stressed, and bitter, something I didn’t want to happen so early on in him taking back control of his business.

My hand stays pressed against his shoulder, “Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” He shakes his head, his face crimson with fury. “No, not really. It’s my problem.” “Maybe I can help.” His lips purse like he’d been chewing a lemon rind, frustrated and appalled. “Do you know how to stop money from flowing from our accounts into a business that is going downhill? Maybe you know how to unfreeze the business assets and know how to fix the fact my business is entirely fucked right now." 

"What do you mean?” He opens a page on his laptop and gestures towards it. “In the last hour, there has been a downfall so grave that has fucked us, our accounts are about as good as dead.” He rubs a hand over his dark stubble. I inhale a deep breath and blow out slowly, buying time to find words, “So, what you’re telling me is that we are fucked?” I question as he stares at his laptop, one hand running through his hair as he takes a heavy breath. I feel my heart and stomach instantly sink. Surely this can’t be happening. His eyes flick towards me, drumming his fingers on the desk, “don’t worry about it, go to bed.” He mutters, an attempt to dismiss me, but it doesn’t work. How can I go to bed when his business is going to hell? 

I don’t know what this all means, but from his expressions and frustration, it doesn’t seem too great.

His eyes look up to meet mine, “Elise—,” he begins, “hey, are you okay? You look pale.” He questions, instantly standing up and coming to my side. “What are we going to do?” I demand for what feels like the hundredth time.

I just need answers even though deep down, I know he doesn’t have them. As much as he’s wrecking his brain to find them, he can’t muster up answers to assure me of stability. “We are going to do our best.” “What about the baby?” I summon and he instantly presses his finger under my chin, urging me to look at him. I stare into his eyes and I see the concern in them, I see they’re dark and tired already, they are striving so hard to show me some sort of reassurance but they’re failing. “I’m pregnant and we don’t even know what’s going on” “Elise, I promise you, you and the little one will be fine and have everything you both need.” “And what about you? What about your needs?” He shakes his head, “don’t worry about me. I’ll make sure you and the little one have everything you need. I’ll do what it takes, so don’t worry about that.” … “hey, everything’s going to be okay, alright?” He whispers, the pad of his thumb wiping away a few tears, “please, don’t cry. It’ll be okay, we will get through this, I promise.” “For richer or for poorer, right?” I sniffle, trying to discover something positive in all this mess, no matter what happens, at least we still have each other. “And in sickness and in health,” he nods, continuing to wipe away the tears that I can’t manage to halt from cascading down my cheeks, “I know I’ve put you through hell the last two months, I’m sorry,” he wraps his arms and me and draws me into him, enabling me to sob into him. “I know,” he sighs, his hand stroking through my hair, “hey, it could be worse, my love. It’ll all be okay, we will get through this like we have gotten through everything else we have had to deal with in the past.” He whispers in an attempt to soothe me and make me feel better about everything. “For richer or for poorer,” Harry repeats my line as his hand strokes through the soft strands of my hair.

[rattlung]

Play It Again pt. 1

hoo hey wow. it sure has been a while. this is a nifty little thing I’ve had rollin around in the dome piece for quite the while. it’s a fallout new vegas mcgenji au if you’re into that kind of thing.

it’s also on ao3 if that’s your style :)

He remembered the taste of dirt in his mouth, painted skulls, and the blurry vision of a woman in a checkered lilac suit.

=+=

According to the bot himself, he’d been rolling around Goodsprings for near decades. No one since then had stayed alive long enough to confirm or deny this unfortunately, but no one felt it necessary to question too much. Besides cover the dirt roads in tire tracks, the bot didn’t harm anyone or cause any sort of trouble. He even helped in his own ways here and there, defending the town from critters and the occasional troublemaker.

In fact, the first notable thing he had ever done was dig Jesse McCree out of his grave.

=+=

Doc Amari was not exactly pleased to see either of the two that early in the morning. Victor didn’t notice her displeasure, nor did he seem too concerned for the near-corpse he had in his arms. His screen still displayed the smiling cowboy, and the voice leaving the speakers was as chipper as always. Amari sighed, too tired and surprised by the early visit to say much. She instructed the robot to bring the man in - the doorway proved to be an issue due to the wide structure of the bot, but he made do - and set him on the stretcher she always had ready in the living room of her home.

The man had been shot in the head. Honest-to-god bullet through the brain. The only thing strange about it, however, was that he managed to still be breathing. She had no way of knowing how long it’d been since the shooting, but judging by the amount of blood covering his skin, the man was gambling on a high stake game. Doc Amari gathered her necessary supplies while Victor called out his pleasant goodbye’s and struggled out the door. The needle and old fishing wire were set aside for now, but she kept the half empty bottle of whiskey and tweezers close. Her hands weren’t as steady as they used to be, but she’d do her best to set this man right.

Ana Amari took a swig of whiskey in an attempt to wake herself up and got to work.

=+=

His heartbeat stabilized not too long after the surgery, a miracle on its own with what she had been working with, and grew stronger in the passing time. Other than that, he remained still, never moving besides the rise and fall of his chest. That she expected. She claimed the rest would be left up to time, told the folks around town the same thing when they asked about him.

It was days before the man finally regained consciousness. Amari heard him stirring early in the morning when she got around to boiling water for the day, but it wasn’t until late in the afternoon when his eyes opened at last. She sat in the chair across from the couch she had moved him to, watching him gather his bearings.

He groaned once, and from there sluggishly moved his arms until they were able to heave himself into a sitting position. Amari didn’t like how he went an equal part green and pale in the face, so she reached out to help him steady.

“Easy now, boy,” she said, a firm hand placed on his shoulder. He blinked at her owlishly before pinching his eyes closed, probably from the sudden intake of light. “Couple of days out cold is not going to see you out the door that simply. Just relax for one moment.”

He was responsive for the most part, but suffering a wound as potentially damaging as he did, she doubted she’d get anything more than expressions from him.

Still, didn’t hurt to try.

“What’s your name, boy?” Amari asked, sitting back down in her chair.

The man continued to rub at his eyes for a moment, and briefly she wondered if he could even hear her. “McCree,” he said at last, voice croaked and drier than the desert outside.

Her eyebrows raised just slightly, as did her lips. “Hm. Not what I would have named you,” she told him, if only to see what he would do. She watched him feel at the stitches running across his scalp then pull away to see if there was blood. When he was sure there wasn’t any, he blinked up at Amari in question. “No harm meant. If that’s your name, then it’s your name.”

“It is,” McCree assured.

“My name is Ana Amari, but everyone is fine calling me Doc Amari. Welcome to Goodsprings.” She stood again to fetch a cup of water from the freshly boiled pot on the stove, handing it to McCree. When she was sure he wouldn’t drop it, she returned to her seat in front of him.

McCree eyed her the entire time, but didn’t refuse the drink.

He was quiet for the most part, only speaking up when Amari questioned him. She seemed thoroughly impressed with his responses. With every answer, Amari’s lips pursed and her brow furrowed, but she nodded to herself each time.

“You’ll have to forgive me,” she stated, catching on to McCree’s confusion toward her reactions. “I’m used to patching up people, even one’s with head injuries like yours, but having them be able to form a coherent thought let alone speak clearly? That’s something that does not happen often.” She smiled, more sardonic than friendly. “I would say you’re a lucky man, McCree, but if you were so lucky, you wouldn’t have gotten shot in the head in the first place.”

McCree doesn’t laugh or smile along with her. “What do you know about the person who shot me?”

“That they were alive a few nights ago, that they shot you, and that there is always a chance they might still be alive.”

“So, not much.”

“Not much, no.” Another one of those smiles. “You’d get more from the other folks around town.”

With that, Amari stood, but doesn’t beckon McCree to follow her. He leaned back into the couch as she started to move in between the rooms of her home, rolling the cup of water back and forth in his hands. It’s a touch warmer than room temperature when he drank it, his throat scolding him for downing it as fast as he did.

By the time Doc Amari returned, McCree had finished grimacing through the pain. With her she had brought an armful of things, most of it McCree recognized as his own belongings.

“Didn’t mean to pry, but I looked through that note I found on you. I was hoping it was a letter from family or at least a friend so they can come for you.” She handed him each item one by one while she spoke, waving the piece of paper before giving it to him to indicate what she meant. “But it was just some delivery order about a - a platinum chip?” Amari shrugged. She waited for McCree to sort through everything and pack it neatly into the leather messenger bag he’d been given before she went on.

“Much obliged.”

“I’m not used to living with anyone as of late, so now that there’s no sense of keeping you in bed, I’m afraid I’m gonna have to turn you on your own.” She stepped forward to help McCree stand and was relieved to find out that he only accepted the help out of politeness. Some water and a few chems and her patients are out the door. The desert always had ways of shaping folk up. “Now, I don’t want you spreading word about how cruel old Doc Amari is, kicking you out after waking up from a coma,” she said as they walked together toward the door.

McCree interrupted her with, “Wouldn’t think of doin’ such a thing, ma’am.”

Amari laughed, smiling something real for the first time. “Aren’t you a charmer? Still, if I knew I sent you out to the Mojave with nothing but some bobby pins and a stim, I wouldn’t sleep at night - well. Wouldn’t sleep much, and at my age, I need all the rest I can get.”

They stopped at the entryway where Amari turned to a rusted metal shelf set up against one of the walls. A few things were piled there, some ammunition and what McCree recognized as basic energy pistols, spare medical supplies, and a pack of potato crisps. What she grabbed, however, was a tiny machine and a neatly folded set of clothing.

“Take this and think nothing of it,” she told him sternly. He accepted it, wiping dust from the screen and twisting the knobs curiously. “It’s called a Pipboy. Growing up in a vault, you were meant to have one. I don’t have use for it anymore.”

McCree looked up from the machine once the tone of Doc Amari’s voice registered, but her eyes were downcast. “You’re from a vault?”

Her fingers rubbed gently at the blue fabric in her hands, a seemingly subconscious act, smiling even though her eyes turned harder than stone. “I was, yes. Here.” She pushed the clothing into his chest so he was obligated to take it from her, the previous conversation forced to be set aside. “So no one has to see the hair on your chest.”

The vault suit was an odd fit, but it was loose where it counted and fit well where he needed it. He slid on the Pipboy after, adjusting the tether until rested where it should on his wrist. Amari watched with a careful eye to ensure that he did it right. She was giving it away, sure, but Pipboys were hard to come by and she’d be damned if this man damaged it within thirty seconds of owning it.

Once he seemed settled with his new gear, McCree looked to Amari for further instruction. She laughed again. “Don’t looked so overwhelmed, boy. You’re in good hands as long as you’re in town.”

McCree found himself grinning just a little in return, unable to not like this woman. “Thank ya kindly, ma’am.”

“Of course.” Amari headed for the door, McCree at her heels. “If you plan on searching for the people who shot you, I would stop by the saloon first. Folk around there know more than they should, if you ask me. Hana Song is sure to be there as well. She’ll help you get back on your feet so you don’t get knocked off them once you’re in the desert.”

McCree thanked her again for what felt like the thousandth time - though he doubted it would ever amount to what she did for him - and reached for the doorknob.

“McCree?”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“I’m throwing you out now, but do not mistake this for hostility.” Ana Amari’s face was aged and sand-worn, but she had life in her eyes that burned intensely, passion and strength. “I know what it’s like to have something taken from you. If you think of something I can help you with, I will be here, and I will do all I can.”

McCree left Doc Amari’s house and stepped onto the sand of the Mojave Desert, the number 21 on his back feeling heavier than anything he carried with him.

hhhhhell yeah.

main

[faithpetham]

Honor View 10 review: a OnePlus 5T challenger emerges

The flagship space is saturated with contenders on all sides and typically they come at a high price. Companies like OnePlus have been trying to shake things up by making their flagships at least somewhat affordable, and users have been clamoring for more offerings that tick more boxes than most mid-range devices, while still maintaining their mid-range price point. Honor has been trying to find that balance, from its Honor 7X — an impressive offering for under $200 — to its latest flagship offering, the Honor View 10 (aka V10).

The Honor View 10 rivals that of the OnePlus 5T in its spec sheet and design, while bringing some Eastern flair to the software —  and all for less than $500. This is the Honor View 10 review.

Design

Called the V10 in other markets, the View 10 looks quite nice. Our unit has a dark blue metallic tint which shines brightly on the front around the screen and has a more softly reflective matte finish on the back. The corners and sides are rather rounded and the phone is just thick enough to allow room for the headphone jack on the bottom.

Other colors are available but this dark blue is great: understated on first glance and then striking. The spartan backing, with just the Honor logo in the middle and dual camera setup in the corner, where both lenses individually pop out, is especially nice. Yes, that might mean the lens is in danger of scrapes and scratches, but it certainly gives the Honor View 10 a distinct look.

Despite having a 5.99-inch screen, the phone’s handling is helped by its taller 18:9 aspect ratio. The result is a phone with a low screen-to-body ratio and a great looking front broken up by only a couple of features. Up top are the usual sensors and so on, but beneath the screen is a capacitive home button with an embedded fingerprint reader. That capacitive button can have multiple functions via gesture controls.

The capacitive fingerprint reader lets you navigate via gesture controls

A navigation setting allows for taps and swipes to trigger what would otherwise be the soft keys — back, home, and recent apps. This frees up the screen for more work and play. After getting used to the trigger for Google Assistant — swipe up from anywhere underneath the screen — this One Button mode became second nature. Even if it adds to the overall footprint of the phone, the single capacitive key is very useful.

Display

Editor's Pick

OnePlus 5T review: it’s all about that screen

  Buy now from OnePlus With the OnePlus 3T, we got virtually the same body as the OnePlus 3, but packed with a new processor, more RAM, and a bigger battery. This year though, there isn't a …

18:9 aspect ratios are hardly unique anymore, but it is nice to see Univisium coming to more phones than just high-end flagships. Much like the OnePlus 5T, this screen is kept at Full HD+ resolution. It’s an IPS panel which does get bright enough for outdoor viewing, though I do wish it got just a little bit brighter. Colors are also where they should be, with Honor’s tuning providing saturation on par with other high-performing IPS panels, though it does not reach the same levels of OLED vividness.

Text and media all look fine on this screen, but I had to go into the settings and shrink down the rendering sizes. Elements provided by EMUI seem created for a 1080p screen, but not necessarily one this big. This is more of a software peeve than a knock against the screen. It was easily fixed — bringing down the setting by one notch made everything look proper and not bloated.

If there is one thing missing here, it is an always-on display. Plenty of manufacturers have been including this to make seeing one’s notifications easier and I wish the View 10 had it too. It’s got an LCD panel, meaning it would consume more battery than on an OLED screen, but the feature still would have been useful.

Performance

Honor spared little expense making sure this phone has top-notch performance. Though it’s only just starting to happen in the West, it’s pretty normal in Asian markets to have over 4 GB of RAM and a high amount of storage. The View 10 comes with 128 GB of storage and 6 GB of RAM. No matter how you cut it, that is great to have on a phone at this price.

Honor spared little expense making sure this phone has top-notch performance: the View 10 comes with 128 GB of storage, 6 GB of RAM and the Kirin 970

See also

What is the Kirin 970’s NPU? – Gary explains

Neural Networks(NN) and Machine Learning (ML) were two of the year's biggest buzzwords in mobile processoring. Huawei’s HiSilicon Kirin 970, the image processing unit (IPU) inside the Google Pixel 2, and Apple’s A11 Bionic, all feature dedicated hardware solutions …

Honor takes the specs sheet a step further by putting in the latest Huawei HiSilicon processor, the Kirin 970. Yes, the one with the Neural Processing Unit (NPU). The true benefits of neural processing are yet to be proven — this is the first time consumers are seeing this kind of chipset, after all, and its applications are still rather limited — but this is a feature which should be better utilized over time.

For now, the NPU works in the camera for automatically finding the right scene mode and for optimizing memory handling based on your usage habits, but there is little else differentiating this phone’s performance from other flagship devices. To that end, the Kirin 970 still does its core job well in providing reliable, smooth, and fast performance.

Hardware

The View 10’s feature set reflects its design and also sticks to the basics. A microSD card slot can increase the already high amount of built-in storage, and all the connections you’d expect are available. It even has NFC for contactless payment platforms. There is no IP certification on this phone, however, so users will have to be a bit more careful to keep everything dust-free and dry.

Though calls were just fine on the T-Mobile network, using this European version of the phone kept me on HSPA+ and Wi-Fi most of the time. That means my battery experience wasn’t quite indicative of what users might get on mostly LTE connectivity.

The 3,750 mAh battery got me through a day start to finish without any problems

Nonetheless, the phone’s 3,750 mAh battery got me through a day start to finish without any problems. Screen-on time, in particular, got up to six hours while I was mainly on Wi-Fi playing mobile games and watching YouTube. With fast charging solutions, it doesn’t take long for the phone to get back to 50 percent, either. You will be relying on a USB Type-C charger, however, as wireless charging is not included in this metal-clad device.

Speaking of YouTube, I have to give a nod to the onboard speaker. It is easy to scoff at a bottom-facing mono speaker unit, but I was surprised to hear some decently loud and rich audio. Being able to put a pair of headphones in easily, thanks to the headphone jack, was also appreciated.

Camera

On an affordable flagship phone, cameras tend to be the make-or-break feature on an otherwise great package. The camera of the View 10 puts its best foot forward with a dual lens system much like the one found on the OnePlus 5T. The phone’s rear features a 16 MP f/1.8 aperture shooter, with a monochrome 20 MP f/1.8 secondary sensor for adding detail to color photos or taking crisp B&W shots. Together with the potential power of the NPU, this combined camera package can yield some sharp and enjoyable photos, except when using the 13 MP front-facing camera.

I hesitate to say the front-facing camera is all that bad, because it is really just down to Honor’s tuning of the software. The View 10 clearly takes a lot of cues from its original Chinese market, where most front-facing cameras focus on beauty modes and tend to be very soft. The camera tends to overexpose for a brighter photo and still yields an overly soft selfie even when all the modes are off.

The beautification mode is also available with background bokeh effects — turn them on and things get even softer than before, and my freckles simply disappear. If you want to keep your facial features intact but maintain a soft background, the Wide Aperture mode allows for similar effects but the results can be spotty. This beauty mode might be great for someone who appreciates the airbrushed look, but that person is not me. The best I can say is that the front-facing camera is certainly capable of good photos, but what that actually means to each individual user could differ.

Portrait mode and wide aperture modes are available for the rear cameras as well, and when used with some extra care, the photos coming out of the phone can be pretty great. Sharpness is where it should be — essentially the opposite of the front-facing camera — and colors are mostly accurate. The camera tends to overexpose when tapping darker areas, but a bit of work on the compensation slider will make the photo look more accurately exposed. As I said, with a little bit of extra attention to detail, the View 10’s cameras do their job pretty well.

There are plenty of other modes included in this camera package, like HDR, which is a mode rather than a toggle (a personal pet peeve). There are also pro modes and more artsy modes if you want to get fancy. I also like that the video mode has the ability to use the Wide Aperture setting while recording. It can lead to some interesting — albeit very artificial — depth of field footage. However, the camera is already pretty wide at f/1.8, so bokeh is not hard to come by.

Unfortunately, you will need very steady hands because there is no OIS on the View 10. This is a problem immediately apparent in video recordings, but it also hinders the phone’s low light performance. A prompt for the user to “hold hands still” while sharpening the image reflects a long shutter due to the lack of lighting. During that time basically any movement will make the photo blurry. OIS would have been a great addition to an otherwise quite capable dual lens setup, but affordability often creates that kind of give-and-take situation.

You will need very steady hands because there is no OIS on the View 10 camera

Software

The software experience differs from many established UIs in the West. Honor is a company from the East, after all, and it brings with it some of the common tropes found in Chinese spins on Android. It lacks an app drawer by default, but you can change the “Home Style” in the settings or just get a new launcher altogether.

Unlike some phones released in Asia that we’ve imported for review, this Honor View 10 is made for Europe, so all the textual elements fit properly in the interface.

Dive deeper into the settings menu and you’ll find a ton of different ways to customize the experience too. We already mentioned the navigation dock earlier, where the one capacitive key can be used for anything that the soft keys would otherwise do. Aside from that are some app-centric abilities, like putting access to some apps behind a lock or making more than one instance of, for example, a social media application.

Speaking of social media, a nice feature in the gallery app allows for one-click sharing of photos straight to Snapchat. This is more useful for people who are on that network, but it can be handy and it eliminates having to use the often shoddy built-in Snapchat camera.

Finally there is Face Unlock, which is basically what it sounds like — after recognizing the user’s face, the phone will unlock and go straight into the home screen quickly. It works about as good as similar features found on other phones, but Honor added a couple other functions into the mix. One ability shows sensitive information in notifications on the lock screen only when recognition is achieved. The phone can also wake when raised, which makes for a fast unlocking experience when coupled with Face Unlock.

Overall, there are some good features added to this version of Android and launching with Android 8.0 Oreo is a big plus, too. EMUI has its fans but it also has some detractors, so if you’ve had contact with any other Huawei or Honor phones recently, you’ll already know how you feel about it.

Specs

 Honor View 10 Display5.99-inch IPS 1080 x 2160 resolution 403 ppi 18:9 aspect ratio ~78% screen-to-body ProcessorHiSilicon Kirin 970 GPUMali-G72 MP12 RAM4/6 GB Storage64/128 GB microSD card expansion up to 256 GB CamerasRear cameras Main sensor: 16 MP RGB, f/1.8 aperture Secondary sensor: 20 MP monochrome, f/1.8 aperture Front camera: 13 MP, f/2.0 aperture AudioBottom-facing speaker SensorsFingerprint Hall Accelerometer G-sensor Electronic compass Gyroscope Proximity Ambient light Battery3,750 mAh MaterialMetal unibody IP ratingNone NetworksGSM, HSPA, LTE ConnectivityWi-Fi: 802.11 a/b/g/n/ac, dual-band, Wi-Fi Direct, hotspot Bluetooth 4.2 with aptX HD GPS NFC Infrared PortsUSB Type-C 3.5 mm audio jack SIMDual Nano-SIM SoftwareAndroid 8.0 Oreo EMUI ColorsNavy Blue, Midnight Black, Beach Gold, Aurora Blue, Charm Red Dimensions and weight157 x 75 x 7 mm 172 g

Gallery

Pricing and final thoughts

The Honor View 10 price tells a good story. Any phone with features like this that comes in under $500 is going to pique our interest. Though there are even cheaper phones available and certainly higher-powered phones (at higher prices too), this phone’s market segment includes pretty much just the OnePlus 5T.

We will do a comparison between the two soon, but the bottom line is this: Honor has done a great job delivering a high-end experience at a mid-range price, and with potential improvements to the Kirin 970’s NPU still to come, the View 10 could maintain relevance longer than even some big ticket flagships. The Honor View 10 is done very well, and at this price point the whole package puts up a very convincing argument for anyone in the market for a OnePlus 5T.

Honor View 10 review: a OnePlus 5T challenger emerges published first on https://swentexpage.tumblr.com/

[infotainmentplus-blog]

Honor View 10 review: a OnePlus 5T challenger emerges The flagship space is saturated with contenders on all sides and typically they come at a high price. Companies like OnePlus have been trying to shake things up by making their flagships at least somewhat affordable, and users have been clamoring for more offerings that tick more boxes than most mid-range devices, while still maintaining their mid-range price point. Honor has been trying to find that balance, from its Honor 7X — an impressive offering for under $200 — to its latest flagship offering, the Honor View 10 (aka V10). The Honor View 10 rivals that of the OnePlus 5T in its spec sheet and design, while bringing some Eastern flair to the software — and all for less than $500. This is the Honor View 10 review. Design Called the V10 in other markets, the View 10 looks quite nice. Our unit has a dark blue metallic tint which shines brightly on the front around the screen and has a more softly reflective matte finish on the back. The corners and sides are rather rounded and the phone is just thick enough to allow room for the headphone jack on the bottom. Other colors are available but this dark blue is great: understated on first glance and then striking. The spartan backing, with just the Honor logo in the middle and dual camera setup in the corner, where both lenses individually pop out, is especially nice. Yes, that might mean the lens is in danger of scrapes and scratches, but it certainly gives the Honor View 10 a distinct look. Despite having a 5.99-inch screen, the phone’s handling is helped by its taller 18:9 aspect ratio. The result is a phone with a low screen-to-body ratio and a great looking front broken up by only a couple of features. Up top are the usual sensors and so on, but beneath the screen is a capacitive home button with an embedded fingerprint reader. That capacitive button can have multiple functions via gesture controls. The capacitive fingerprint reader lets you navigate via gesture controls A navigation setting allows for taps and swipes to trigger what would otherwise be the soft keys — back, home, and recent apps. This frees up the screen for more work and play. After getting used to the trigger for Google Assistant — swipe up from anywhere underneath the screen — this One Button mode became second nature. Even if it adds to the overall footprint of the phone, the single capacitive key is very useful. Display Editor's Pick OnePlus 5T review: it’s all about that screen Buy now from OnePlus With the OnePlus 3T, we got virtually the same body as the OnePlus 3, but packed with a new processor, more RAM, and a bigger battery. This year though, there isn't a … 18:9 aspect ratios are hardly unique anymore, but it is nice to see Univisium coming to more phones than just high-end flagships. Much like the OnePlus 5T, this screen is kept at Full HD+ resolution. It’s an IPS panel which does get bright enough for outdoor viewing, though I do wish it got just a little bit brighter. Colors are also where they should be, with Honor’s tuning providing saturation on par with other high-performing IPS panels, though it does not reach the same levels of OLED vividness. Text and media all look fine on this screen, but I had to go into the settings and shrink down the rendering sizes. Elements provided by EMUI seem created for a 1080p screen, but not necessarily one this big. This is more of a software peeve than a knock against the screen. It was easily fixed — bringing down the setting by one notch made everything look proper and not bloated. If there is one thing missing here, it is an always-on display. Plenty of manufacturers have been including this to make seeing one’s notifications easier and I wish the View 10 had it too. It’s got an LCD panel, meaning it would consume more battery than on an OLED screen, but the feature still would have been useful. Performance Honor spared little expense making sure this phone has top-notch performance. Though it’s only just starting to happen in the West, it’s pretty normal in Asian markets to have over 4 GB of RAM and a high amount of storage. The View 10 comes with 128 GB of storage and 6 GB of RAM. No matter how you cut it, that is great to have on a phone at this price. Honor spared little expense making sure this phone has top-notch performance: the View 10 comes with 128 GB of storage, 6 GB of RAM and the Kirin 970 See also What is the Kirin 970’s NPU? – Gary explains Neural Networks(NN) and Machine Learning (ML) were two of the year's biggest buzzwords in mobile processoring. Huawei’s HiSilicon Kirin 970, the image processing unit (IPU) inside the Google Pixel 2, and Apple’s A11 Bionic, all feature dedicated hardware solutions … Honor takes the specs sheet a step further by putting in the latest Huawei HiSilicon processor, the Kirin 970. Yes, the one with the Neural Processing Unit (NPU). The true benefits of neural processing are yet to be proven — this is the first time consumers are seeing this kind of chipset, after all, and its applications are still rather limited — but this is a feature which should be better utilized over time. For now, the NPU works in the camera for automatically finding the right scene mode and for optimizing memory handling based on your usage habits, but there is little else differentiating this phone’s performance from other flagship devices. To that end, the Kirin 970 still does its core job well in providing reliable, smooth, and fast performance. Hardware The View 10’s feature set reflects its design and also sticks to the basics. A microSD card slot can increase the already high amount of built-in storage, and all the connections you’d expect are available. It even has NFC for contactless payment platforms. There is no IP certification on this phone, however, so users will have to be a bit more careful to keep everything dust-free and dry. Though calls were just fine on the T-Mobile network, using this European version of the phone kept me on HSPA+ and Wi-Fi most of the time. That means my battery experience wasn’t quite indicative of what users might get on mostly LTE connectivity. The 3,750 mAh battery got me through a day start to finish without any problems Nonetheless, the phone’s 3,750 mAh battery got me through a day start to finish without any problems. Screen-on time, in particular, got up to six hours while I was mainly on Wi-Fi playing mobile games and watching YouTube. With fast charging solutions, it doesn’t take long for the phone to get back to 50 percent, either. You will be relying on a USB Type-C charger, however, as wireless charging is not included in this metal-clad device. Speaking of YouTube, I have to give a nod to the onboard speaker. It is easy to scoff at a bottom-facing mono speaker unit, but I was surprised to hear some decently loud and rich audio. Being able to put a pair of headphones in easily, thanks to the headphone jack, was also appreciated. Camera On an affordable flagship phone, cameras tend to be the make-or-break feature on an otherwise great package. The camera of the View 10 puts its best foot forward with a dual lens system much like the one found on the OnePlus 5T. The phone’s rear features a 16 MP f/1.8 aperture shooter, with a monochrome 20 MP f/1.8 secondary sensor for adding detail to color photos or taking crisp B&W shots. Together with the potential power of the NPU, this combined camera package can yield some sharp and enjoyable photos, except when using the 13 MP front-facing camera. I hesitate to say the front-facing camera is all that bad, because it is really just down to Honor’s tuning of the software. The View 10 clearly takes a lot of cues from its original Chinese market, where most front-facing cameras focus on beauty modes and tend to be very soft. The camera tends to overexpose for a brighter photo and still yields an overly soft selfie even when all the modes are off. The beautification mode is also available with background bokeh effects — turn them on and things get even softer than before, and my freckles simply disappear. If you want to keep your facial features intact but maintain a soft background, the Wide Aperture mode allows for similar effects but the results can be spotty. This beauty mode might be great for someone who appreciates the airbrushed look, but that person is not me. The best I can say is that the front-facing camera is certainly capable of good photos, but what that actually means to each individual user could differ. Normal Wide Aperture Beauty Mode Portrait mode and wide aperture modes are available for the rear cameras as well, and when used with some extra care, the photos coming out of the phone can be pretty great. Sharpness is where it should be — essentially the opposite of the front-facing camera — and colors are mostly accurate. The camera tends to overexpose when tapping darker areas, but a bit of work on the compensation slider will make the photo look more accurately exposed. As I said, with a little bit of extra attention to detail, the View 10’s cameras do their job pretty well. There are plenty of other modes included in this camera package, like HDR, which is a mode rather than a toggle (a personal pet peeve). There are also pro modes and more artsy modes if you want to get fancy. I also like that the video mode has the ability to use the Wide Aperture setting while recording. It can lead to some interesting — albeit very artificial — depth of field footage. However, the camera is already pretty wide at f/1.8, so bokeh is not hard to come by. Unfortunately, you will need very steady hands because there is no OIS on the View 10. This is a problem immediately apparent in video recordings, but it also hinders the phone’s low light performance. A prompt for the user to “hold hands still” while sharpening the image reflects a long shutter due to the lack of lighting. During that time basically any movement will make the photo blurry. OIS would have been a great addition to an otherwise quite capable dual lens setup, but affordability often creates that kind of give-and-take situation. You will need very steady hands because there is no OIS on the View 10 camera Software The software experience differs from many established UIs in the West. Honor is a company from the East, after all, and it brings with it some of the common tropes found in Chinese spins on Android. It lacks an app drawer by default, but you can change the “Home Style” in the settings or just get a new launcher altogether. Unlike some phones released in Asia that we’ve imported for review, this Honor View 10 is made for Europe, so all the textual elements fit properly in the interface. Dive deeper into the settings menu and you’ll find a ton of different ways to customize the experience too. We already mentioned the navigation dock earlier, where the one capacitive key can be used for anything that the soft keys would otherwise do. Aside from that are some app-centric abilities, like putting access to some apps behind a lock or making more than one instance of, for example, a social media application. Speaking of social media, a nice feature in the gallery app allows for one-click sharing of photos straight to Snapchat. This is more useful for people who are on that network, but it can be handy and it eliminates having to use the often shoddy built-in Snapchat camera. Finally there is Face Unlock, which is basically what it sounds like — after recognizing the user’s face, the phone will unlock and go straight into the home screen quickly. It works about as good as similar features found on other phones, but Honor added a couple other functions into the mix. One ability shows sensitive information in notifications on the lock screen only when recognition is achieved. The phone can also wake when raised, which makes for a fast unlocking experience when coupled with Face Unlock. Overall, there are some good features added to this version of Android and launching with Android 8.0 Oreo is a big plus, too. EMUI has its fans but it also has some detractors, so if you’ve had contact with any other Huawei or Honor phones recently, you’ll already know how you feel about it. Specs Honor View 10 Display 5.99-inch IPS 1080 x 2160 resolution 403 ppi 18:9 aspect ratio ~78% screen-to-body Processor HiSilicon Kirin 970 GPU Mali-G72 MP12 RAM 4/6 GB Storage 64/128 GB microSD card expansion up to 256 GB Cameras Rear cameras Main sensor: 16 MP RGB, f/1.8 aperture Secondary sensor: 20 MP monochrome, f/1.8 aperture Front camera: 13 MP, f/2.0 aperture Audio Bottom-facing speaker Sensors Fingerprint Hall Accelerometer G-sensor Electronic compass Gyroscope Proximity Ambient light Battery 3,750 mAh Material Metal unibody IP rating None Networks GSM, HSPA, LTE Connectivity Wi-Fi: 802.11 a/b/g/n/ac, dual-band, Wi-Fi Direct, hotspot Bluetooth 4.2 with aptX HD GPS NFC Infrared Ports USB Type-C 3.5 mm audio jack SIM Dual Nano-SIM Software Android 8.0 Oreo EMUI Colors Navy Blue, Midnight Black, Beach Gold, Aurora Blue, Charm Red Dimensions and weight 157 x 75 x 7 mm 172 g Gallery Pricing and final thoughts The Honor View 10 price tells a good story. Any phone with features like this that comes in under $500 is going to pique our interest. Though there are even cheaper phones available and certainly higher-powered phones (at higher prices too), this phone’s market segment includes pretty much just the OnePlus 5T. We will do a comparison between the two soon, but the bottom line is this: Honor has done a great job delivering a high-end experience at a mid-range price, and with potential improvements to the Kirin 970’s NPU still to come, the View 10 could maintain relevance longer than even some big ticket flagships. The Honor View 10 is done very well, and at this price point the whole package puts up a very convincing argument for anyone in the market for a OnePlus 5T. , via Android Authority http://bit.ly/2rU5hQW