#just clearing clips from my files

[vonxodd]

IMMACULATE (2024)

[yandere-daydreams]

file #5: the lactation fic.

part of the FREAK SHIT MARCH evidence packet.

pairing: yandere!sukuna x reader (jjk).

length: 1.8k.

warnings: afab!reader, heian era sukuna, vaguely dubious consent, lactation (not the way you’d expect though), fem!dom, verbal degradation (m. receiving), breast milk, and mentions of death/cannibalism.

If you could say you’d learned anything about Sukuna, it would have to be that he was not the kind of man you could expect predictability from.

That was, if you could even call him a man at all. It would be more accurate to say that he was not the kind of monster you could expect predictability from, which made sense – monsters were rarely known for having a rational motivation for their senselessness. With Sukuna, though, it was less that you were forced to guess how violent he’d be and more whether he’d be violent with you at all. It was as common for him to demand that you spend the afternoon laying on a shady riverbank, feeding him honey and grapes, as it was for him to threaten to gut you like cattle should you make one more snide comment about the bloodstains his constantly wandering hands tend to leave on your clothes. His other servant, the inexpressive butcher who spoke to you rarely and reeked constantly of blood, claimed to be able to find a pattern to the chaos, but whatever knowledge they might’ve gleaned over their time with him, they’d never seen fit to share with you. You found your own ways of coping, though.

Like right now, for instance – as you hung limply over Sukuna’s shoulder, kept in place only by the hand pressing into the small of your back. Despite the way his arm bit into your stomach, a slight scowl that’d been playing on his lips when he snatched you away from what you’d been doing, you did your best to keep your mind empty, your thoughts limited to a blank ambiance. If there was as good of a chance that he was going to kill you and feast on your decaying flesh as there was that he simply needed someone to fix yet another tear in his favored yukata, you didn’t want to make it worse for yourself by panicking prematurely.

Still, you were vaguely aware of the passing scenery as he hauled you through grand, vacant halls and into the master’s chambers. Sukuna would find a place to dwell wherever he roamed, whether that meant sleeping in a damp cave or on a bed of woven cloud and quail feathers, but a part of you was undeniably (and guiltily) glad that he had a clear preference for the latter. Currently, you were biding your time until Sukuna’s next feeding spree in a palace that used to belong to a wealthy merchant; a merchant whose organs were, if memory served, currently being divided into portions and dried on a rack of—

You were pulled out of your thoughts as Sukuna dropped you onto a bed of down-stuffed pillows and silk sheets. Wordlessly, he fell beside you and, using his lower set of arms, hauled you onto his chest, forcing you to straddle his abdomen. With only a slight huff, a roll of your eyes, you settled into place – bracing your hands on his midriff. “My lord, I have other obligations to—”

“I am the only obligation you should be paying any mind to.” His tone was clipped, his voice gruff. Clearly, he was in one of his poorer moods, today. “Get on with it” he barked, making with a vague gesture to his upper chest. “I don’t have all day, brat.”

You spared a half-second to scan over him. He treated you like a tailor, among other things, but at the moment, his chest was bare, and this wasn’t exactly comparable to the countless times he’d dropped the tattered shreds of a kimono or yukata into your lap and told you to make something more or less wearable. “I… I’m afraid I don’t exactly know what I’m supposed to be doing, sir.”

He rolled his eyes, and you bit back the urge to return his irritation. “Y’know, just…” Another gesture to his chest, this one shortly followed by a disappointed, breathy noise. “Empty them out. It’s starting to get uncomfortable, again.”

Empty them…?

Again, you glanced down, your attention landing on the swell of his chest. He was always sickeningly bulky, prone to wearing his strength on the layers of muscle blanketing his biceps and thighs, but his chest did seem more swollen that it normally was, now that you thought to look, the usually hardened flesh visibly more plush, more tender. You shifted your weight, your fingertips digging into the swell of his right pec, and you felt something warm and wet trickle over the back of your hand and onto the velveteen cushions below you.

Sukuna let out an airy groan, and your mind went entirely blank.

Reflexively, you tried to pull away, but Sukuna had always been faster than you. His hand was wrapped around your wrist before you could so much as break contact, keeping your palm pressed into his pec (breast?). “Don’t act like such a baby. It’s a task even an idiot could manage.” With his hand draped over your own, he ground the heel of your palm into the plush of his pec, and this time, you weren’t lucky enough to look away in time – your eyes falling to his chest as a thin stream of a surprisingly white, surprisingly thick fluid dribbled out of his nipple in short, stilted bursts. Milk, your mind filled in, against your will. Except, it couldn’t be. Sukuna wasn’t human. Sukuna wasn’t supposed to be able to do that.

More out of curiosity than anything, you pressed your palm down again with just a little more force, a little less trepidation. The jet was stronger, this time, and Sukuna’s eyes closed, his lips soon drawn into a thin line only occasionally parting to let out a deep breath or raspy groan. His hand dropped away entirely as you fell into a steady kneading pattern – both of his upper arms soon crossed above his head, as he often did when he was lounging in a particularly entrancing patch of sunlight, while their lower counterparts remained on your waist. “Use both hands,” he grunted, and not bothering to suppress your scowl, you did. Soon enough, milk (because, as unsettling as it was, you just didn’t know what else to call it) frothed steadily, painting both sides of his chest with unorganized streaks of splotchy white – delicate ribbons spread over a canvas of ink and scars.

Despite yourself, you found yourself focusing on that. The word, almost jarringly quaint, repeated in the back of your mind; milk, milk, milk. Almost in a trance, you found yourself bowing your head, lowering yourself until your chest was slotted against his. After making sure his eyes were still closed, his attention still on the steady movement of your hands, you ran the flat of your tongue over his left nipple and—

Oh.

It was sweet.

His hand was on the back of your head in an instant, but you were already latched on – your lips sealed around his nipple, sucking harshly. There wasn’t a point trying to be gentle with Sukuna, not when you’d seen him take spears to heart without so much as a wayward flinch, but any passing temptation to veer towards delicacy was quickly forgotten as thick fingers knotted themselves in your hair, a reverberating moan tearing past his lips as you lapped and suckled, letting whatever you couldn’t swallow down flood out of the corner of your mouth. He could’ve pried you away, if he’d wanted to, could’ve torn off your head with little more than a flick of his wrist, but all he offered was a weak – pathetic – tug, a few garbled curses spat under his breath. “Brat,” he hissed, as you drank greedily. “Just— Just do your damn job and—”

“You’re so fucking loud,” you muttered, pulling back just far enough to be audible. “For once in your life, would it kill you to be quiet?”

You couldn’t see him, but you’d seen him baring his teeth often enough to recognize his tone. “Know your place, huma—”

You didn’t give him a chance to finish. Before you could think better of it, you braced yourself and bit down, burying your teeth into the tender meat of his chest. You tasted blood, heard Sukuna moan, and felt his body jolt underneath you, hips jutting against yours as something long and thick twitched against your ass. You pulled away as quickly as you could, already grinning. “Are you…?

“Be quiet.”

He was. You could feel his cock against your ass - already hard, already pulsing. Or, his cocks, rather, both standing stiff against his lower stomach despite the loose fabric of his robes. Carefully, you shifted back, straddling his thighs, as you slowly removed the thin sash sitting low on his waist, as you dragged the silken fabric aside in favor of wrapping your fist around the thicker of his paired cocks; your fingers barely grazing each other where they were supposed to overlap. “No wonder you’re always so temperamental,” you went on, speaking slowly, giving him every chance to cut you off, to throw you to the side, to tear you limb from limp. He only scowled, though, only pouted, clenching his eyes shut as thick beads of arousal blotted and dripped over the back of your hand. “To think the King of Curses would get this hard from some powerless human sucking on his leaking tits… You must be so pent up, you just don’t care who touches you, huh?”

His hold on your hips tightened, threatening to bruise. You barely noticed, already distracted by the slight tremble in his bottom lip, the pitchy whine that escaped his grit teeth as you shifted your weight onto your knees and aligned the blunt, flushed tip of his cock with your entrance. You took measured seconds to lower yourself onto him, ignoring the burning stretch in favor of focusing on the heat of it, the immediate and overwhelming fullness. You’d barely gotten the head of his cock inside of you when you stopped, going completely still. A second passed before Sukuna seemed to notice, another before one of his many eyes flickered open – immediately landing on you.

It was barely a whisper, a breath. He was mumbling, as much as you knew Sukuna would loathe you for accusing him of something so meek aloud. “Do your—” A bubbling groan, a hitched gasp as your pussy clenched around him. “Do your damn job, brat.”

Your attempts to bite back your wide, beaming smile were only half-successful. “It would be my pleasure, my lord.”

You rolled your hips as you lowered yourself back to his height, trapping his unsheathed cock between your body and his as your mouth found its way back to his nipple. It was barely another minute before he was swearing, groaning, bucking into you from below in short, stilted thrusts – like he was afraid of so much as coming close to slipping out. It was all you could do to stay concentrated on the task at-hand, to stop your mind from wandering from the taste on him on your tongue, the feeling of his cock throbbing inside your pussy. Still, you found the time to allow yourself a single, self-indulgent thought – one so ridiculous and so simpering that you couldn’t help but laugh against his skin.

Maybe, just maybe, there were sides of Sukuna that weren’t so difficult to predict, after all.  

[gghostwriter]

hi dear author! how are you?

I have a request for Spencer where reader has a head injury and passes out and Spencer's reaction to it and the aftermath. I found your fic around 15 mins ago and I'm in love with them<3

Thank you!!

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Trope: Established Relationship; Fluff! Just fluff Warning: Medical inaccuracies A/N: I’m sensing a pattern with the request writing I’m doing—most of them deal with a head injury of some sort but I am having fun trying to make it different the the earlier works. No further editing was done but I hope you enjoy it! Main masterlist

Bundle of Nerves. // Spencer Reid

The bright and playful disposition of your kindergarten students was one of things you looked forward to every Monday. How each student would go up to you to chatter about how their weekend went—family went to the park or to the library or to the beach—and how in return, they’ll ask if you also enjoyed the weekend as much as they did. 

But something seemed off today, you really couldn’t specify where it all started. Maybe it was you falling back to sleep after your alarm went off, or maybe it was you missing breakfast, or maybe it was just all of the above. 

Either way, everything was going sideways and it was just about to get worse. The lights seemed darker, the children’s voices were distorted, and the room was starting to sway. Feeling the need to sit down, you were only able to take a couple of steps to your desk before promptly fainting—smacking your forehead on the floor and the children screaming for help.

———

Spencer wasn’t one to wish for a case to land on JJ’s desk but at 1:30pm on a Monday, he found himself twiddling his thumbs and calculating his rocket launches using his expansive brain capacity—all paper filings done and submitted early. He swiveled to face Morgan who was caught red handed about to throw a paper clip in his direction. 

“Hey Kid,” he cleared his throat, trying to act nonchalantly. “You done with your paperwork?”

“Yeah, now I’m thinking of how to improve my rocket magic. Hey do you think if I add more—” 

The vibration of his phone on the table interrupted his sentence. His eyebrows furrowed as he took in the unregistered number. Curious but definitely wary, he pressed ‘accept’.

“Hi, this is Dr. Spencer Reid. Who is this?”

A female voice answered. “Hi Dr. Spencer Reid, I’m calling from Virginia State Hospital. Y/N had you listed down as her emergency contact. She was admitted—”

The remaining information all sounded muffled. His breathing was spiking up and all he could hear now was the rapid staccato beating of his heart. He couldn’t think straight. Is this what unknowing family members of victims feel when they receive a distress call? Like the rug was pulled under their feet? He couldn’t comprehend what to do, how to—

“Dr. Reid, are you still there?”

He cleared his throat. “Yes—yes, I’ll be there soon.”

Before the voice could say another word, he ended the call, was out of his desk, and up the steps to his unit chief’s office, SSA Aaron Hotchner. 

“Reid, what is it?” the stern BAU leader clocking in the distress painted on the genius’ face.

“I-it’s Y/N. She was admitted at hospital and—”

He nodded. “Go, Reid. I’ll explain to the team and HR.”

With a quick ‘thank you’, he ducked out of the bullpen to the elevator, grateful that he opted to drive to Quantico today rather than take his usual train route.

Maybe he should have borrowed the government owned SUV instead, he thought to himself when he turned to the main road and saw the congestion. Hotch would have understood, he just wasn’t sure how to explain that in paperwork but this counted as an emergency, right? It felt like a life or death situation to him—for him and for you. 

When he exited the bottleneck traffic, Spencer wanted to floor the gas. His foot itched to stomp on the accelerator and worry about the fines later. But the idea of getting caught, being pulled over, and wasting more precious seconds away from your side was enough for him to second guess it—that and his tight white knuckle grip on the steering wheel. 

He should have asked for more information over the phone call but the second his mind registered the words, it went to overdrive and out of the window—his emotions were running high and clouding every logical thought possible. He had an IQ of 187 but all he could think of was you. You, the love of his life. You, his fiancee, lying down on a hospital bed, alone and unconscious. Any man, no matter how smart they are, would react the same way he did when it involves a loved one.

He parked his car at the first slot he could find in the hospital parking lot and ran straight to the reception.

“I’m looking for Y/N. She was admitted a while ago. I-I’m her fiancee.” Spencer hurriedly introduced himself.

The nurse nodded once, stating your floor and room number. Without so much as an acknowledgement, he ran to the nearest elevator and willed it to open any faster.

Spencer felt like he ran a marathon by the time he found your room and seeing you there, lying on your bed—conscious, thank god—took a little weight off his chest. He breathed out your name in relief. “What happened? Did you—did you hit your head?”

Your hand gingerly touched the bandage on your forehead. “I think so. I started to feel faint so I was walking back to my chair. I must have hit my head on my way down—”

He took your hands into his, kissing it. “You had me so worried. Did the doctor say anything? Diagnosis? Cause? Treatment?”

“No. When I came to, only a nurse was here. She left to page the doctor but it’s okay—I feel fine now.”

Spencer opened his mouth, no doubt to chide you about minimizing your pain and health, but then the doctor walked in with a clipboard on hand.

“Hi, I’m Doctor Smith. How are we feeling?”

“She said she was feeling faint before she hit her head. Does she have a concussion? Why did she feel faint—was it stress? Hypoglycemia? Labyrinthitis? Vertebrobasilar insufficiency?” Spencer rattled off.

 “Well, your husband sure knows medical terminology. Are you a Doctor too?” the physician asked.

Spencer’s brows met in between, finding the whole interaction off-putting. Here he was about to have a nervous breakdown and your doctor was as calm as a cucumber. “Fiancee, actually, and yes Doctor, 3 Phds not MD.”

“Impressive, and to answer your questions, Doc. None of the above.” 

His eyes widened. “Then it could be hypo—” 

Dr. Smith smiled and shook his head. “It’s not that either.” He reached into his clipboard, removing a prescription pad, and quickly jotting down medicine. “Here you go. She’ll need to take a capsule a day and I suggest a healthy balanced meal, exercise, and plenty of bed rest.”

Spencer’s eyes widened when he realized what the chicken scratch handwriting said. 

“What—what is it?” You asked in worry as Spencer seemed to have glitched.

The doctor grinned at you.“Congratulations, you’re pregnant.” 

Silence. 

“I-I’m what?!” 

The doctor chuckled. “You’re 3 weeks along so you’re still in the early stages. Your body is still adjusting—the fainting spell was caused by change in your hormones and low blood pressure. I suggest you schedule an appointment with your OB/GYN as soon as possible and get ample rest—” he looked at the couple once more before exiting the room. “—congratulations, again.”

The tears that started to gather in your eyes seemed to bring Spencer back to life. “Oh love, are those—are those happy tears or—?” 

You nodded. “Happy tears, Spence. I can’t believe it!” 

He reached out to hug you to his chest. “I love you, Y/N. You make me feel like the luckiest man in the world.” 

You giggled. “I guess we have to tell your team about the baby genius on board, huh?” 

He laughed, remembering how Emily once asked him if he ever planned on having one and here he was about to become a father. 

You gasp, causing him to lean back and look at you with worry—did he hug you too tight? Did you feel— 

“I’m not going to fit in my wedding dress by then! Penny will have a fit! She had this vision and—” 

He leaned down to interrupt your ramblings. 

“I’m sure she’ll forgive you, especially if you're turning her into an aunt.”

You smiled, peering through your eyelashes. “Y’know we might have to find a new apartment soon. Just imagining how much shopping Penny would do for our baby genius even before he or she is born is making me shudder.”

He laughed. “Me too, love. Me too.”

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[colleendoran]

How Do I Do Stuff

The question was phrased a little strangely, and I don't want to embarrass the person by posting exactly what was said, but I'll answer it and hope this clears everything up.

I do almost all of my drawing by hand. No, I don't trace in Photoshop. Not a judgment on those who do, but I come from a generation of artists who did not use Poser programs or other digital tools. We learned to draw using a technique called the Sight Size method. I know a lot of people assume everyone - including the old masters - traced everything using optical tools, but while it is true some people did, it is just as true that most didn't, and you can draw with great accuracy if you learned how to draw the old fashioned way.

Sight Size breaks everything down into its barest components of geometric shapes and you build from there. Once you learn it, you never forget, and it applies to everything you will ever draw.

I learned it using a set of Famous Artist Course books my mom had since she was a kid, and they are still the gold standard. They're often on ebay. If I were you, I'd buy them.

I actually find using figure reference really annoying because I like exaggerations and modifications from reality in my final work.

This page from Neil Gaiman's Chivalry was drawn and painted without figure reference of any kind.

I don't know why people assume I trace all the time. If you were to try to use photographs to replicate these figures, you would find they are slightly off. There is no tracing here.

This is not to say I never use reference. This page, for example, was referenced from a photo of my mother. Isn't she pretty.

But this page of Sir Galaad was drawn and painted without reference.

He's pretty, too.

If he were real, I'm sure a lot of people would be very happy about it. But he's not. And had I reference, the art would have gone a lot faster. I had a time trying to nail this face that is very alive in my head but doesn't really exist.

Back in the ancient days, all cartoonists had to learn to draw and paint extemporaneously because reference was limited and digital tools didn't exist. While some high end artists had photography studios and professional models with costume and sets on hand, small fry like me were limited to what was in the house or available at my small local library, which was no bigger than a few rooms of my current house.

Artists kept extensive "morgue files" or "swipe files" which were collected from magazine clippings and photographs so we would have as much of what we might need on hand for quick reference. These ephemera collections could get unwieldy. I have thousands of photographs I've simply never sorted. I finally dumped most of my files this past year.

Have I ever traced anything? Of course, especially if I have to re-use a shot or setting over and over. Making extra work for myself is just silly. It's my job to make pictures, not to perform magical feats, like copying one shot after another over and over without making a mistake.

However, for almost 15 years of my career, I refused to copy or trace anything, and did not even own a lightbox. On the one hand, that forced me to learn to carefully examine what I saw. On the other hand, it was a stupid hill on which many deadlines died.

Only after I realized many professional artists had lightboxes and overhead projectors did I finally break down and get one.

The one thing I use my lightbox for more than anything is for tracing my thumbnail sketches to the final drawing paper. Instead of trying to capture the liveliness of the original sketch by copying what I see - only bigger - I blow the thumbnail up to the size I want the final art to be, then I trace over the thumbnail using a lightbox onto the final drawing paper.

Here's a look at thumbnails from the graphic novel Neil Gaiman's Snow, Glass, Apples.

I enlarged these on my computer to fit onto 11"x14" paper, and traced the thumbs before finishing the art which was drawn in pen and ink and colored in Photoshop.

While I obviously made some changes, the essence of the thumbs is there in the final work. Tracing my thumbs retains some of the looseness of the original sketches, which is often lost otherwise.

So, there is a valid purpose to tracing at times, though in my opinion, too much tracing can weaken drawing ability, substitute for developing skills, and make the work kind of stiff.

If you want to, I'm not your judge. But it's weird to me that people think I must be faking my skills in some way.

Ironically, the word cartoon comes from the Italian word cartone, which is a large heavy sheet of paper - also, the origin of the word carton.

Preparatory sketches were made on this paper which was then transferred to the final work surface via either tracing or by stamping little holes in the paper through which dust was sprinkled, recreating the contours of the drawing for the artist to follow.

So the origin of the word cartoon comes from a process often used...for tracing.

[simplyanjuta]

Transferring animations between rigs (e.g. adult to child)

The steps below describe how to transfer an animation from an adult rig to a child rig but the method should be applicable for any transfer between human rigs.

However, I haven't tested other constellations. Let me know if you have any other tips, suggestions, corrections or run into any issues.

Many thanks to thepancake1 for helping figuring out the details that are not obvious at all 💛

I posted this little guide in Creator Musings for someone wondering about it but sharing it here as well.

Step 1)

Export the adult sim animation you want to transfer (=your source) to Blender.

Open a blend file with a child rig (=your target).

Append the adult rig with the animation to the child rig in Blender (File > Append > Select the blend file > folder "Object" > select rig and mesh there)

Select the animation from the adult rig for the child rig (select the child rig in the Outliner menu > select the scene tab in the properties panel below > in "S4S AnimationTools" select the adult animation as the "active animation")

This will get the job mostly done, but the animation will be offset and jumping around, as you see below. To correct for that you will need to set up several constraints as described in step 2.

Step 2)

As you see below the height of the ROOT_bind of the adult sim and child sim differ by about a factor of 0,7:

You can check the exact location in edit mode:

The ROOT_bind of the child rig is located at 0.6920, the ROOT_bind of the adult rig at 1.0112 on the Z axis, which gives a factor of 0.6920/1.0112=0.6843354430379747

With that information you now need to do the following (see image below for comparison, I also uploaded my blend file with the set up here):

In the Dope Sheet menu, select "Action Editor" and press "New Action" there to make a copy of the selected animation.

In the Dope Sheet Summary uncheck ROOT_bind (thus disabling the animation on the root bind for the child rig)

In the Transform menu type in -0,6920 on the X axis for ROOT_bind (thus resetting its position to 0 in the animation; can't properly explain why X axis is chosen here instead of Y but it has sth to do with how local rotations of a bone are determined according to pancake)

Create a "Copy Location" constraint for ROOT_bind of the child rig targetting it to the ROOT_bind of the adult rig (this is done in the Properties panel > Bone Constraints), set Influence to 0.6843354430379747 (factor calculated above), deselect "Z"

Create a second "Copy Location" constraint for ROOT_bind in the same way but this time deselect "X" and "Y" and instead select "Z" and check "Offset".

The animation will now play as expected:

Step 3)

All you need to do now is bake the animation (thus applying all the constraints you set up). Select Pose > Animation > "Bake Action...", then check "Visual Keying" and "Clear Constraints" in the pop up. The animation will now work stand alone and you can delete the adult rig.

Alternatively, if you use Pancakes animation tools, you just need to export the clips, the constraints will be applied automatically.

[x-junwrites-x]

Miguel O’Hara x Reader

Pregnancy Announcement(slight angst)

Tw: slight angst, past character loss mention

_________________

Miguel pauses, looking up at you from the open files on the holographic screens in front of him.

“What do you mean…you’re pregnant?” He stammered, lips parted as he looked at you with empty eyes. His brow furrowed, searching your face as if you were joking.

You suddenly felt nervous at the sight, arms instinctually going to rest over your stomach.

“Uhm, yeah, I’m a little over two months.” You say, feeling your words catch in your throat at the sight of his pale face. “Miguel? I know we didn’t plan it, but I just hope…I’d like to keep it.” You wait a second, feeling the air become tense while waiting for him to say something. He just stepped back from the holograms, arms moving to cross over his chest.

“That’s why you were feeling sick.” He murmured, fingers pinching at the bridge of his nose. A scowl showed on his face. He almost looks constipated, a voice in your head offered unhelpfully.

“Miguel?” Your brow pinched, head beginning to swirl with thoughts of the worst scenarios. He could get angry, you knew that. You knew of his temper, along with his pentiant of throwing things in his tantrums. You resisted the urge to take a step back from him as he took a few short breaths, eyes suddenly looking down at the ground. He stood like a tower, unmoving and unbreakable. But if you looked closer, you could tell that the news was weighing on him in the way his shoulders sagged.

“Please…Miguel…could you say something? We can talk about this.” You tried, slowly reaching a hand out towards his crossed arms. He still wasn’t looking at you, seemingly trapped in his head with his own thoughts.

His crimson eyes snapped to your hand as it rested gently on his forearm. It almost looked like he was afraid.

“I…it caught me off guard.” He grunts out suddenly, unmoving from your touch despite his lack of eye contact. “Do you really want to keep it?” His voice sounded cold and clipped, making your hand retreat.

“Yes, but if you really don’t want to have it, we…we can end this here.” You said, voice finding strength as you buried your fingers into your top. He looked at you then, surprising you at the shine over them.

“Miguel, what’s going on?” You asked, worried lacing in your voice. He suppressed a shudder, moving forward suddenly towards you. You froze, surprised again as he suddenly wrapped you in a tight hug. Strong hands finding their way across your back, searching.

“It’s just,” He started quietly, voice sounding thick with emotion over your shoulder, “You know I had a daughter once before, yeah?”

You nod, teeth finding your bottom lip as you slowly realize where his head was at.

“Oh, Miguel.” You moved back from his hold slightly to look at him with sad eyes.

“I want you to keep it.” His crimson eyes gleamed in the light of his office, “I’m just…remembering what happened last time.” He cleared his throat.

Your hand found a way around his waist, bringing him closer to you. He dropped his head to the crown of yours, leaving a kiss in your hair.

“Nothing would make me happier.” His voice was gentle as he left another kiss on your head. “I’m just afraid.” You reach up to rest a hand over his cheek, giving him a sympathetic smile. A small and brave thing.

“We can take the leap together, it won’t be like last time. We have a whole spider society that has our backs if anything goes wrong.” I said lightly, voice dropping into something soft, “But seriously, I’d love to do this with you, only if you feel that you’re ready. I can’t imagine what it must have felt like for you before, and I understand your apprehension now.”

He shook his head, hands moving to cover your arm over your stomach.

“No, I’m ready. For you, I can do anything.” He huffed, thumbs smoothing over the material of your top. “Gabriela will forever be in my heart and mind, but creating life with you…it’s all I could have dreamed of.”

You gave a teary laugh, moving to press your face into his neck as he curled around you.

“I love you, Miggy.” You whispered, feeling his arms wound tighter around you.

“And I you, mi corazon.”

[static-radio-ao3]

@jegulus-microfic // february 7 // prompt: star // words: 1,416 // cw: referenced sexual content // part 1 + part 3

“So let me get this straight,” Barty says, pacing in front of the couch where Regulus is sitting with his back straight and his hands tucked between his knees. “You sucked off your ex in the bathroom, picked a fight with him because he wanted to return the favor, ended up hooking up with him and staying the night, and now you’re telling me he texted you?”

Barty ticked off every point he made, a full five fingers now held up in front of Regulus' face. Five offenses. Regulus fights to maintain eye contact but his resolve crumbles under Barty's unyielding stare. Barty Crouch Junior, a force of nature. If only he'd use his powers for good.

“That would be correct,” Regulus says after a moment of silence.

“And his name in your phone is do not fucking respond.”

“That would also be correct.”

“And what did you do?”

“I responded.” Regulus at least has the decency to hang his head in shame. He remembers how long it took his friends to piece him back together in the aftermath of Hurricane James.

Barty sighs, bone-deep and long-suffering. He pinches the bridge of his nose before dropping his hand and turning to face Regulus again. “Follow-up question: were you dropped on your head as an infant?”

Regulus perks up at that, because “Well—”

“Don’t answer that,” Barty says, voice clipped. “God, Regulus. Gold star for being a fucking idiot.”

“In my defense,” Regulus starts. He doesn't continue though. Lets the silence stretch until there is no give anymore. Barty cocks an impatient eyebrow. “He looked really good,” Regulus finishes lamely. A red flush crawls up his neck and Regulus is sure it makes the mottled bites and bruises on his skin stand out even more.

Barty stops pacing to shoot Regulus an incredulous look. “That’s such a bad excuse? He always looks good? If you’re gonna be dropping to your knees as soon as he's within a two-mile radius, just— don’t.��

“But—”

And really, Regulus isn’t sure why he’s about to argue. He absolutely should be kept away from James at all times and he’d been so good at it for a while, but then. Well. Before he gets a chance to argue though, Barty cuts him off again.

“Don't make me call Pandora. She will bring the list.”

That does shut Regulus up. A huge file with an annotated bibliography and an itemized list of why Regulus should stay away from James. They had used it against him before and it worked every time. This time though, he didn’t want his weaknesses pointed out to him just yet.

“Fine. I won't talk to James anymore.”

---

“And then you have the fucking audacity to text me?” Regulus asks, incredulity bleeding into his voice. James seems unbothered by it though, hip cocked against the kitchen counter and arms crossed over his chest.

“Would you rather I call you?” He asks.

Regulus whirls on him. “No! I'd rather you not reach out to me at all!”

“See, once again, I am finding that hard to believe.” James pushes himself off the counter and steps closer to Regulus. “Did celibacy make a liar out of you? Or did I fuck you so good you forgot all the things you said last night?” He keeps his voice low as he says it, but Regulus hears it loud and clear. He shifts under James’ sharp gaze. Eyes lazily tracking the way Regulus moves.

“I'm not fucking lying. Last night was a mistake,” Regulus lies. Because that’s what he does now. Apparently.

“Technically two,” James says. He bites his bottom lip thoughtfully, eyes stuck on one of the many bruises littering Regulus’ neck.

Regulus doesn’t need the reminder, he can feel the bites and bruises sting with every turn of his head. Hands pressed palm to palm and the two of them chest to chest. A leg between Regulus’ own and his voice so wrecked he didn’t realize it was his at first. James, softened by the low light in the room, all his sharp edges blurring into pleasure. The hum of a moan into the heated skin of his neck.

“Technically three,” Regulus murmurs, eyes getting hazy, but he catches himself a second later, straightening. “But that's not what we're talking about!”

“Isn’t it?” James cocks his head. A lazy smirk pulls at James’ lips. The sight makes something simmer hot in Regulus’ gut. “We seem awful good at making mistakes. Maybe they're not mistakes at all.”

“All of this was a mistake! From the beginning! We shouldn't have hooked up and we shouldn't have dated and none of this should've fucking happened. Not last night, not last year, none of it.” Regulus takes a heaving breath. Considers saying more, but then James cuts in with:

“Are you done?”

“What?”

“I asked if you were done.”

“I— Yeah. I guess.”

James takes a step closer again, boxing Regulus in against the table. He presses his palms down on the flat surface, one on each side of Regulus’ hips. He has to look up a bit to be able to look James in the eye when they’re this close. He always liked it.

“You know what, that would've hurt my feelings if I believed you. Although I guess I do think this was a mistake. In a way.”

The feeling of James’ breath hitting the side of his neck makes Regulus shiver. James dips down for the barest, briefest moment and drags his lips along the column of Regulus’ neck, tracing the path he laid out the night before. It takes Regulus a second to realize what James just said, too caught up in his closeness to register the words. He isn't prepared for the way that statement makes him feel, a sharp pang in his chest and a dull ache all the way down his fingertips. He curls them into fists, keeps them resolutely in his lap. But before he has a chance to react, James continues.

“See, I think we never should've broken up. Mistake number one.” James takes the smallest of steps backward just to be able to raise his pointer finger. Regulus misses the heat instantly. “And I think you shouldn't have left this morning. Mistake number two.” He raises a second finger. “And you know what they say about mistakes.”

He glances at Regulus thoughtfully, waiting for him to fill in the blanks.

“Don't fucking make them?” Regulus asks.

“All good mistakes come in threes,” James corrects, a third finger now being held up.

“No one says that.”

“Maybe they should.”

“No, James,” Regulus shakes his head and leans back, putting some distance between himself and James. Or trying to, at least. “This is a bad idea and we both know it.”

James just leans into him more. Regulus goes a little cross-eyed trying to maintain eye contact. His focus is drawn to James’ lips instead. He remembers them pink and bitten. Stretched wide, spit clicking the corners.

“Come on, baby,” James hedges. “No more mistakes. Just me and you. And I'll be so good for you, good to you, I swear.”

His voice is molten honey, hot and sweet, and it sticks to Regulus’ skin like a physical thing.

And Regulus only has so much resolve. He unclenches his fists, allowing himself to reach out and touch. But the smooth fabric of James’ sweater is a poor substitute for the thing he really craves. It buzzes in his veins, a steady hum that's getting increasingly harder to ignore. There is no alcohol in his system to blur the lines he'd once drawn, he steps over them with his eyes wide open.

“You're addicting, you know that?” Regulus murmurs, mouth a few scant inches from James’. “Just can't fucking quit you. You and your Jamesness.”

Before James can reply, Regulus curls a hand over James’ throat and tugs him into a kiss. The buzzing in his veins quiets immediately, satisfaction rushing through them instead. It’s heady, kissing James again, even though it’s only been a couple of hours since their last kiss. James really is addicting. And Regulus is a weak, weak man.

---

is that a phone in your pocket or are you happy to see me [group • 4 members]

reg: hey guys....

evan: you're an embarrassment

barty: @panda send the fuckinf list

pandora: reasons why regulus should keep his dick in his pants and out of his ex [file type: PDF • 53 pages]

[simp-ly-writes]

Lasting Pictures: Up and Under (pt.2)

Pairing: Poly!Task Force 141 x Photographer!Reader

Summary: Signing the papers was one thing, actually going back and doing the work was another. Memories come hurling back at you as you try and navigate this new lifestyle while getting to know the members of your new task force- some warm up quicker to you than others but are your trials all for nothing? Or maybe, just maybe this new start has other possibilities for you as well....

Warnings: 4952 words, Slow burn, heavy imagery of anxiety attack and PTSD, descriptions of blood and swearing.

A/N: Hey ya'll thank you all so much for all the love on the first post, weird to see so many people liking my shitty writing. Anyways! todays chapter is dedicated to my fellow stranger @cosychick who made this chapter possible (TYSM again, seriously). On another note... I may have written a lot again... and have an outline for many more chapters... hope you guys enjoy this next part! let me know what you think~

Masterlist | Taglist | edited.

Lasting Pictures Series Masterlist

The cheers surrounding the room are soon put to an end as the boys soon get ordered to return back to their duties on base as you and Gabby stay behind with Laswell. She opens your file on the table, flipping towards the back as she comments on your years of leave from the military. Your task force had all been promoted within the ranks and some were found less on field and more in strategy. You smiled at this newfound information, as it slightly fell when Laswell said how poorly they took your leave and lack of communication afterwards while tailing off on a few names that have you blinking your eyes quickly.

The room falling quiet once more, Gabby grasps your hand in her own- rubbing small circles into the back of it in an effort to comfort you. You squeeze it twice in response; awaiting Laswell to continue her commentary as a knock can be heard coming from the door, Price enters then closes it behind himself as he takes his seat back beside Laswell with his own paperwork in hand and places it on the table. He motions with a flick of his wrist for you guys to continue as he grabs for a pair of glasses and takes the lid of a pen off; beginning to flip through the sheets, signing every few pages while referencing others. Laswell continues to speak while opening a second file with your polaroid clipped to the front. 

“Has your body fully healed from the incident?”

“Yes, ma’am”

“Do you still take medication for it or any other symptoms you have experienced as a result?”

“Yes I do”

Laswell hums in response, flickering to the next page as you lightly sigh in relief and Gabby comments, “May I speak freely?”

“You may”

“They have made a full recovery, I made sure of it before contacting them…” Gabby looks over at you, happiness is found in her squished cheeks from smiling so brightly as she drops your hand to reach over the table for your papers, “...I recommend still going through with the fitness regulation test for formal qualities- but they would pass easily nonetheless.”

Price decides to lift his head and joins the conversation once more, “some practice missions with 141 before sending directly to the field would be of value to us all as well. Time is limited- I know-”

You smile slightly at his addition, nodding your head in agreement before finishing his sentence, “but a little team building never hurt nobody” you tease lightly back as John matches your smile before returning back to the work at hand. Gabby leans over, clearing her throat loudly to whisper in your ear, “So what type of team building do you have planned~?” 

Swatting her away while covering your cheeks from your blush, John chuckles to himself as you shrink into your sweater, cursing Gabby mentally as Laswell gives you all a tisk with a small smile gracing its way across her features; her tone lightening. 

“You will get along great with the team, Dice, from what I read and see here today. 0-700 tomorrow for your assessment and I want you to move on to base with the rest of the team temporarily to redevelop your skills for the imminent future. Deployment is set for two weeks from now. That is all, thank you both” Laswell finishes, collecting her belongings before tapping Price on the shoulder on her way out. 

Stacking the papers into a neat pile; he looks between you and Gabby before sliding an unsigned document, tapping his finger to where he wants you to sign and handing you his pen. Glancing down at it, its weight is surprisingly heavy and the small engraving of 141 on the lid has you smiling, you look over the page- reading through each clause before signing your name at the bottom and sliding it back with a sigh. 

Gabby slaps your shoulder with yet another cheer as she calls for drinks tonight that has you shaking your head at the idea. “I have my assessment in the morning scales, can’t be going out and doing that just yet.”

“Lame” Gabby states back childishly before asking if you wanted a drive back, you smile thankfully at this as you begin to stand from your seat. Knees a bit weak from staying in the same position for too long. Yet as your hand hovers over the door handle, a small call out from the table has you turning back to face your new captain. 

“Welcome to the team Y/N”

“Thank you Captain” 

--

Keys swing around Gabbys finger as you both make your way towards the parking lot at the back of the base. Walking through the halls and across the pavement; viewing all the helicopters and equipment tucked nearly away has memories sending goosebumps across your skin, nerves and excitement mixing together in your anxiety driven cocktail as you follow in Fish’s shadow. 

Gabby clicks the small device twice as the car flashes its lights with a small honk. Yet as you begin to enter the vehicle a calling out of your name from another car has you smacking your head against the roof of the car and eliciting a loud groan as you rub the spot gently, turning to face whomever got you into this state. 

Gaz smiles apologetically from the rolled-down window as he asks if you want help tomorrow moving your stuff on to base, he mentioned that your new captain already sent a message to the infamous groupchat you had yet to be added to. Smiling at the man's kindness you accept as he asks for your number. Walking up to his car, exchanging phones; you place your name alone in his as Gaz places a petrol symbol for himself that has you giggling when you read it. Tapping the top of his car in a sign of goodbye, he drives through the gates and away. 

Turning back you see Gabby leaned against the car with a cheeky grin, “do I need to report anything to the council already, lieutenant?” 

“Yet?! Do you honestly think I am getting with any of them, or that they would have any interest in all of this shit?” You reply while flinging your hands up and down your body, emphasising your statement. 

“Well.. you and Soap looked to be getting cosy…”

“I needed physical comfort, you know this”

“Mmhmm”

“Gabby! I swear to god-”

“Mmhmm” 

“Even with my last team, we almost never did any of that shit”

“Almost?” She teases back.

“Not like that Gabs! ugh!”

Gabby does not bother to listen to anymore of your protests as she hops backs into the vehicle, the engine roaring to life as you sit yourself into the passengers side with a huff, buckling your seatbelt before helping her to check the blindspots and give directions back to your place. 

--

The drive back is peaceful after the hellish day you have had. Gabby flipped you off while driving away as your neighbour complained about hearing your cat moving about your apartment too loudly. Apologising you turned the key in the hole and entered, the space was dark with a small candle coming from the kitchen. Cursing to yourself for leaving it unattended, blowing it out you called for Spoons to make sure he didn’t hurt himself from it. 

Checking the cat over in your arms and sighing out in relief, you hunched down slightly so they could move to your shoulders and motioned to get their medication before you started the debate of ordering in or cooking dinner for yourself. Opening the fridge you cursed to find it empty, resting your forehead against its metal door to cool your head, you felt for your phone the jean pocket as Spoons meows loudly in your ear. 

Placing him on the counter and closing the door with your foot, you order delivery and feel for your wallet; walking yourself back into the living and falling onto the cushioned seat, feet pressed atop the coffee table as you threw a weighted blanket over yourself and turned the television on. Doctor Who played across the screen as you chucked at their antics and companions' poorly timed jokes, the doorbell ringing and a tip being served before you switched to the VOD for the football game. 

Your team was losing severely as you whisper-yelled at the screen, afraid of getting a thorough beating from your elderly neighbour. You flicked it off before it finished and noticed that your plate was empty. Placing the containers in the fridge and washing your dishes in the sink, you see Spoons sleeping on the half-wall separating your kitchen from the dining room. Their belly turned upwards as light snores exited their body. Snapping a quick picture to show Ghost in the morning, you began your nightly routine. 

Showering, brushing and flossing your teeth, alongside applying your moisturizers. You shuffled underneath the covers while doing some last minute scrolling through your phone. Rolling your eyes when you saw the endless stream of reels being sent from Gabbys personal account that had you switching your ringer off and placing it on to charge. Setting your alarm clock to sound you closed your eyes as your body jerked throughout the night, awaking in a cold sweat as only a few hours had passed before doing your best at returning back to sleep.

--

The loud sound of ringing gradually made its way across your ears as you groaned and blindly reached over to turn it off; you ended up swatting it off the nightstand, the loud crash had you sitting upright from the sound of it smacking against the hardwood floors. Being stubborn to get out of bed just yet, you reach across the room to pick it up and shut it up. Falling back into the covers you reach for your phone and smile seeing your parents’ name in the notifications, they wish you a strong return back with a string of emojis that has you shaking your head while replying, slightly regretting for introducing them to that submenu on the keyboard.

Stretching and rolling out your yoga mat, you do our daily exercises before setting the kettle to boil and heading for a quick shower. The mirror clouds over as you draw a small heart across its surface while scrolling for just the right song to start getting ready to. 

Coming back out- refreshed you dig through the back of your closet to find parts of your old uniform that you didn’t have the heart to send down to the storage rooms. Placing it across your frame and looking at yourself in the foyer mirror. A tear slides itself down your cheek as you swiftly wipe it away. Spoons soon comes between your legs pawing to be fed as you lightly smile down at them. 

Apologizing to your furry friend, you give them their daily medication and head out the door, to your car in the underground parkade. 06:10 reads on the dash as you drive back to the base from memory. While at a light you start a call with Gabby, hoping that she would fess up to what types of testing you will go through today, yet she gave you nothing much to your dismay other than some teasing as usual. 

“Did you end up talking to Gaz more last night when you exchanged numbers?”

“No, I talked to my parent though.”

“Oh! I miss them, are they still single?”

“Gabs I swear-”

“Hey! Just an honest question…”

“Sure, sure.”

“Are you here yet?”

“Almost, about a block away”

“Okay good.”

“Everything al’right?”

“Oh yeah, Soap just keeps telling me I'm no fun now that he’s met you, butthurt honestly.” 

“Well I have always been the funnier one.”

“Thanks, just what I needed to hear.”

“You know me- social skills, simply perfection…” you end with a giggle in your voice, “...okay im at the gate now, see you in a few.”

Pulling the car into an empty parking spot, you ended the call while hauling your work bag with your camera inside over your shoulder from the passenger's seat and take your metal water bottle with you. Locking the car with a click you walked towards the main building and picked yourself up a new badge. Wincing at your picture, you hide it in your jacket pocket as you make your way down the hall and towards the locker rooms to put your stuff down. 

--

Taking in a deep breath, you made your way out to the fields and saw everyone standing in a circle, speaking in hushed tones before halting at the sounds of your footsteps nearning. Giving the group a small wave, Gabby came over and wished you luck with a large hug and kiss against your cheek before returning back to her duties. Laswell stood to the side, clipboard in hand as she began to look at her watch, anxious to begin and return to her stack of files as well. 

Soap speedily walks his way over to you, clapping a hand on your shoulder and pulling you in to his side, he wishes you good luck and a few other words told in his native tongue that you didn’t quite catch before Ghost is shouting across the field, in what would appear an aggressive tone to any new listener. 

“English, Jonny”

“Fuckin’ Britts you lot”

“Hey you! Don't assume my nationality you prick”

Soap looks at you wide-eyed and apologetically as words and curses fall out of his mouth like a waterfall. Gaz can he heard chucking off to the side as you pat Soaps shoulder and tell him that you were just pulling his leg. He nods his head and sighs out in relief while looking up towards the grey skies. Making your way over to greet the Captain and Ghost, they both offer you a firm handshake once more as you provide a wide smile back before heading towards Gaz sitting on a nearby bench beside Laswell. 

Sitting beside him, he starts making small talk and eventually asks what you are doing directly after this. Looking towards Laswell she shrugs and reminds you of the team-building you promised to do before calling you to the starting line. Gaz makes a quick note for you to continue your conversation later as he shouts you a good luck as you make your way away. He sits up from the bench and moves to stand beside Simon and the others in line to the side.

--

Nearing the starting line, you notice a series of vertical obstacles ranging from a rope climb, an outstanding rock wall and a fence hop. Leaning your body to the side, you look further down to see a tire you will need to push alongside a series of pylons lining a large section of the tarmac. A long run, how great after all of that. 

Shaking your head of the negativity, you closed your eyes and evened your breathing before sending Laswell a nod of your head, ready to tackle this course to the best of your ability. The sound of a shout coming from the Station Chief has your body moving faster than your mind as you hoist yourself up the rope and jump down to the other side. 

Your body wavers slightly upon impact yet as soon as your knees steady once more you are running up the rock wall to boost yourself up, skipping half of it as you hear Gaz praising your technique while waiting running to wait for you on the other side. Using your feet and hands, you slip slightly from the lack of gloves or chalk before running down the ramp on the other side. Next you are sprinting over to hop over three sizes of fences as Soap claps loudly at the end telling you how many obstacles you have left. 

Smiling to yourself in a layer of sweat, you side-hop the last small fence before whipping your forehead with the backside of your arm and collapse yourself to the floor in low crawl under the wire frames above. The mud finds its way into your boots and underneath your fingernails as you sigh happily at its cool texture on your skin. 

Nearing the end you look ahead of yourself to see the long awaited large tire sitting flush against the ground. Picking yourself up to stand and shaking your hands violently while running over, you heave it up with a large grunt and push it to fall. Completing these repetitive actions tenfold before showing the tire over the designated cones. The long awaited run now awaited you as Price praised you with a large smile, yours matching his own as your feet began to pick up pace once more, now desperately trying to reach the end of the course in time. 

The soon becomes in view as you see Laswell standing there, stopwatch in hand as Gabby appears beside her, jumping enthusiastically and pointing at your approaching frame. This momentarily distracts you from the pain you are feeling throughout your body as it takes everything in you to run the last quarter mile. 

Yet as you near, the shouting of all your awaiting squad members, the sound of your blood pumping through your ears and your laboured breaths has you faltering slightly as your world spins and the finish line is closer than ever before. 

Memories cloud over your senses as you can feel the sweat dripping off your neck and down your back. The feeling of cold metal combing itself against your skin has you shivering in your overheated state as your stomach begins to turn itself outwards.

You don’t notice yourself running across the finish line and slightly pass before a pair of arms wrap themselves around your frame and hold you steady as they shake your shoulders in an effort to make you become present. 

You can feel a distant hand running circles on to your lower back as they brush the hair out of your eyes and behind your ears before resting their hand against your forehead, checking your temperature while making a hand motion in the other as the sounds of multiple boots rushing over have you swaying in their hold and holding your stomach as you kneel over. Knees falling to the pavement as you collapse on to your side. Eyes blurry as you see the rough contours of faces shaking your legs and holding your chin before they push you into recovery position as you throw up your guts on to someone's boots. 

Apologising subconsciously in a gravel filled tone. The sounds of cries over power your being as you shrink into yourself, tears falling. But soon enough you feel laying down beside you as they tug you over and point to the clouds in the sky while you rub your eyes. The multiple pairs of eyes on you have fallen significantly as you take in a large breath and whip your eyes and cheeks with the back of your hand. 

Looking over to your left you see Gabby staring at you smiling, remenist to what you would do as kids in your backyard, making stories out of all the clouds above and promises of your futures together. How times have changed as the pavement burned itself against the back of your head that still felt a bit fuzzy and your hands shook slightly against your sides. 

As Gabby directs you to copy her breathing and calls for your bag to be brought over while searching for your medication side, she asks softly if you remember to take some yesterday. Eyes going wide you shake your head and groan to yourself while placing the back side of your hand to rest against your forehead, shielding your eyes from the sun beginning to poke its way through the clouds. 

Doing your best to hoist yourself to a sitting position, your frame wobbles slightly as Gabby rapidly turns her body around and her face turns into horror. Her hands are filled as she watches you sway and almost crash your head against the tarmac once more yet thankfully an arm had you hoisted up against their side as they joined you on the floor. 

Smiling over to Gaz thankfully he rubbed your shoulder and Gabby kneeled down to hand you a cup of water and a few pills. Looking at them in your hand, shuffling them slightly in your palm you threw them into your mouth, tipping your head back consciously as the water made its way down your system. 

Gaz then handed you a pack of crackers that were obviously from an MRE. You winched in reaction that had Gaz giggling at your face before it fell when Fish just about punched him to remove it. Shaking your head slightly at the two and telling Gaz you know he meant nothing poor of it, you begin to take small bites out of the cracker while looking around to find where everyone else went. 

As you stare down the field, you see Laswell and Price in a heated argument as the boys stand to his side, a few grand hand gestures are made as Soap flings his arms around wildly, almost hitting Ghost in the face that has him holding his limbs still so the Captain can focus. 

Looking towards Gaz once more you ask simply, “Hey Gaz…” He hums to you in reply while his focus is on making sure that you continue to eat, “...Shouldn’t you be down there listening to what Laswell and Price have to say?”

“I think something more important came up that held my attention”

As you move to apologise, Gaz holds his other hand up slightly as you pause your next words. His eyes crinkle slightly as he stares eye level into your own, your mouth opens slightly at the sight of his smile so close to your face, yet you shake your head blaming it on all the anxiety still coursing its way through your system. 

“Sometimes all we need is to sit down with someone so that the world can figure itself out.”  

You humm in reply as clears her throat softly as you both jerk your bodies in reaction, forgetting her presence in front of you. She shakes her head and chuckles lightly at both of your reactions before saying, “what about some words of wisdom for yours truly, Garrick?” While fluttering her eyelashes. 

Rolling your eyes you can’t help but chuckle at your best friends seemingly never ending sass as you ask, “Garrick?” While tilting your head to the side, staring at Gaz’s profile as he simply explains that it's his last name and you nod to this newfound information. 

“My full name is actually Kyle “Gaz” Garrick”

“Kyle Garrick” You test the name out upon your lips as he gives you once of his famous smiles once more while squeezing your shoulder.

“My name sounds a whole lot better while coming out from between your lips”

Gasping at his comment, you blush widely in response while holding your cheeks with the palms of your hand in an effort to hide your growing embarrassment. Groaning while leaning forward, your head falls into Gabbys lap as she laughs once more at you while combing her fingers through your hair as Gaz slides his hand to rest against your back.

Mumbling in Gabbys secure hold about his touch not helping your state. You hear a loud laugh as he reacts with his hand apologising. The lack of his touch as you question the equally relieved and disappointed emotions flashes across your brain. Yet this bubble of a moment would soon be broken as the rest of the team returned around you.

Everyone eventually sat down on the pavement that had you mentally giggling to yourself, the ghost of a smile makes its way across your features as you notice the formation you all have made is reminiscent of the duck, duck, goose game. 

Soap soon leans over to whisper in your ear, “tag, you’re it” while poking your shoulder jokingly. Wincing in an exaggerated manner has Soap quickly asking if you alright as you smile kindly in response, “I’m feeling a lot better now, thank you Soap” 

He nods back in response before shifting his focus to Gaz, eyeing how close he is sitting against you now all the more obvious as Gabby moved herself to sit between Laswell and Ghost. Yet making no comments on his observations that has relief spreading across your skin. You did not need anymore teasing.

Looking back around the circle yourself, you notice as the Captain does a quick look over of you before nodding his head in approval and turning his attention towards Laswell who appears to be choosing their next words carefully as you feel Ghosts gaze settling hot against your profile.

Tilting your head slightly, you notice how he plays with his gloves and how soft his eyes appear behind the mask as if asking you a simple question to your state. Offering a small smile and nod in recognition you watch out of the corner of your eye as his fidgeting stops and he too eyes Laswells next words. 

Clearing her throat, her eyes make their way around the circle and stop at you, “you have done well today Y/L/N, flying colours for the obstacle course and impressive return I must add. Yet after today…” Her sentence drifts off as she lacks the words necessary to continue, looking over to Price for help.

The Captain holds your eyes softly in his own as he finishes for Laswell, “from discussions earlier and your best interests in mind, Laswell and the team have decided that we won’t be putting you on attack for now.” A large sigh escapes your mouth as you feel conflicted on how to feel about not fully coming back. 

Price continues, “until then you come with us on missions to gather intelligence for Fish under our watch.”

“I understand sir” you respond back, doing the best to hide your emotion in your voice as you see Soap shift himself closer to your side in noticing your slight change in tone. Your eyes are still being held by the captains as you see his eyes wince slightly at your response before his face returns to its professional state. 

Slapping his hands against his knees with a throat clearing he stands up from the sitting circle and dismisses the meeting, turning around and walking his way back inside the main building. Laswell follows suit, dragging Gabby alongside her while they both compare paper-workloads. 

Gabby turns around mouthing an apology for leaving so soon as you look back and see Ghost is now a bit further away with Soap as they appear to be chatting seriously over something together before Ghost locks him into a headlock. Shaking your lead and looking away all you hear are the sounds of them scraping one another in the background as you find Kyle waiting to ask you something. 

“Do you want me to come over tonight?” Kyle questions softly while tilting his head, awaiting your response.

“To come over?”

“Oh ah-apologies, I meant to move your things temporarily on base”

“Oh,” You laugh lightly while shaking your head of the drifting thoughts you were having, “...yeah some help would be great Kyle! Thank you so much for the offer once more.”

“It's really nothing Y/N.”

“Still…”

“Well, how about after you treat me to some coffee together the day after?”

“I like the sound of that,” You say while doing your best to hide the ever growing smile spreading its way across your rosy cheeks as you notice Gaz smiling back at your adorable self. 

“Why do you get to call Gaz by their first name and not me?! I thought I was your favorite based upon yesterday, what has this British man done to your head beauty?” Soap cries out while quickly walking back over to you as Ghost is nowhere to be seen. 

Your head throws back in laughter as your shoulders rise and fall in swift motions. Gaz shakes his head at his squad member, shoving his shoulder lightly from around your frame with the hint of a smile tugging at the ends of his lips. While Soap remains completely serious in the matter, grabbing your shoulders lightly to make sure you are facing him when you respond. 

“Okay then Soap…” Your voice deepens teasingly at the mention of his callsign “...so what would you like me to call you?”

You watch as his eyebrows raise and a smirk slides its way across his features that has you already groaning, predicting what he is going to say as you can hear Kyle laughing behind you at the interaction.

“Mhmm, well there are a number of things I would love you to call me…” You roll your eyes at this comment,  “...Yet for now let's stick to Johnny.”

“Johnny?”

“You got it, Johnny.”

“Can’t promise I can say it with a scottish accent like you do”

“Humor me”

“Please don’t make me.”

“Just once, c'mon, promise not to record this one…”

“This one!”

“Oh shit.”

“Oh shit is right, Johnny” You respond in a horrible Scottish accent that has Soap reeling with laughter as he grips your shoulder and pulls you into a hug as Gaz laughs harder in the background. The flash of a camera can be heard as you call pause to face the sound to see Ghost pocketing his phone inside his black hoodie. 

╰┈➤ A/N: so... what did you guys think? Have a favorite member so far? Thank you serious for reading all of this lol.

Lasting Pictures Series Masterlist

[missvelvetsstuff]

No Benefits

Bucky Barnes x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Sharon Carter

Summary: Reader and Bucky are best friends until a drunken hook up. Bucky wants a friends with benefits situation because he doesn't feel ready for a relationship but reader knows that will lead to a broken heart.

Then Sharon Carter comes to work with them.

Notes: Steve and Tony are around but retired, everything else is mostly canon

Chapter Notes: I'm really nervous with the direction my muse has taken with this story. I hope I can pull it off. LMK what you think, please.

Previous chapter:

"Cookie!" Bucky roared as he came striding up to her office "What the Hell is this bullshit?"

Chapter 3

Warnings: Swearing, angst, Bucky's a jerk, Sharon Carter sucks

Cookie looked at Bucky with a deep exhaustion caused by researching all night and early morning briefings with the top agents to figure out what to do with Sharon while Bucky was her guard dog. Maria was ready to tear into him. Cookie cleared her throat to gain Maria's attention then made a small shake of her head to ask her to back down, Cookie knew she could handle Bucky by herself.

Maria nodded and left to sit in her office across the hall, leaving the door open just in case.

Cookie straightened her shoulders and sighed "How can I help you Sargent Barnes?"

Bucky glared at her breathing heavily "You know damn well how you can help me. Who the fuck do you think you are making accusations at Sharon like this?" He waved the report in her face until she grabbed it and tore it from his hands.

Holding the partially torn report Cookie stood up to her full height, her heels bringing her eye level with Bucky. She stared at him in his cold blue eyes to show him she wasn't intimidated by him, then walked around her desk to close the door "I don't think it's wise to leave the door open while we discuss top secret intelligence."

She returned to her chair "Please have a seat Sargent." took a deep breath and spoke calmly

"I think, no I'm damn sure I'm the lead east coast Intel analyst who was hand picked from Quantico by Nick Fury while you were still on ice with Hydra, who kept our intel operation running during the Blip while Nick Fury, Maria Hill and....hhmm, oh that's right, You, were all dust in the wind. None of my conclusions were specious and I followed the facts, without prejudice, as my job requires. This has less than nothing to do with your personal, ahem, entanglements. There's solid evidence to back up every claim."

Bucky shook his head "Bullshit. You've been acting put out since I rejected you and found a way to hurt me back. You obviously faked the proof. You better fucking retract this garbage and clear Sharon's name."

Cookie scoffed and shook her head "No Barnes. You're the one who lied to me and decided on your own to end our friendship but this has nothing to do with that." she turned away before he could respond and went into the filing cabinet behind her desk, pulling a thick folder from the top drawer then dropping it heavily on the desk.

"Here is all of the evidence that I have been compiling on the Power Broker since they showed on our radar during the Blip, and spent most of the night organizing. The pictures and the stack with a red paper clip all came in the mail from Latvia a few days ago, the envelope is attached, and was opened in front of Fury and Hill. The night before we received them I was on the phone with my top informant, the one who sent that package, who tried to tell me something about the power broker but was killed while on the phone. Before disconnecting a woman's voice told me to back off of the power broker or I'd be next." She played the recording of that call and others from the same informant.

Bucky shook his head "You've been doing this long enough, you could have made authentic looking evidence. Especially with all the AI stuff. Or had someone do it."

Cookie looked at him like he'd grown another head "Are you serious Barnes? You think I would ever intentionally risk the reputation and career that I've worked my ass off for my entire adult life, over a broken heart? You think that I would ruin someones life and risk legal repercussions on myself over a man? You know what this job means to me and what I've been through to get here."

Bucky hesitated with a pained look on his face and shook his head like he was trying to clear it. There was a voice in the back of his head, telling him this was all wrong but something made him push it down and keep going.

"Well, maybe one of your people is doing it. Are you even sure that informant is dead? Maybe the family is trying to get paid. Or the real power broker is smart enough to lead you to Sharon and you're all too willing to believe the worst because of me."

He paused for a minute "And I heard you call me a liar but I've never lied to you."

Cookie laughed "You sure about that? It's been awhile so I understand if your memory is failing. That morning? The last time you actually acknowledged me outside of work related, yeah you lied to me. Twice actually"

Bucky tried to remember back to that morning, something he tried to avoid because he knew he made one of the worst mistakes of his life. He shook his head to clear the image of her heartbroken face "Yeah I don't know what you're talking about."

Cookie scoffed "Of course you don't, I'm surprised you remembered my name when you came in here. First, you told me you weren't ready for a relationship but you jumped into one with Sharon before her car cooled down" Bucky opened his mouth to protest but she glared at him and he backed down "and second, you told me you loved me and wanted to stay friends but went to ignoring me before my tears dried."

She felt her eyes filling up and cursed "Fuck. You even started leaving the room if I was there. Do you know how it feels to have one of your so called best friends cut you out of their life like you were dog shit on their shoe?" She cleared her throat and wiped her tears.

"I would never frame someone, ever. No matter how I felt about them. Not even you."

Bucky stared at her then winced as though he was in severe pain and dropped his head into his palms before speaking again.

"Well something is going on somewhere because I know, in my gut that Sharon isn't the power broker. There's no way."

He picked his head up and looked at Cookie

"I'm not in a relationship with her, we're just friends. And I didn't lie, I was wrong. I thought I wanted to stay friends with you but I don't, I can't. You're always looking at me and making me feel guilty and I don't deserve that. Plus you've been nasty to Sharon since she got here, don't think she hasn't told me about the horrible comments you make to her."

Cookie laughed "This is the most we've spoken in months, I'm not doing anything to make you feel guilty. That's all on you. But Sharon has you all twisted around because she's the one making nasty comments to me."

Bucky bristled "I don't have anything to feel guilty for. I've done nothing wrong and Sharon wouldn't lie to me."

She shrugged "If you say so, I didn't say anything. Now I've given you the details and shown the evidence. What you do is on you."

Bucky stood up, winced again and shook his head "I don't know if you did it or someone you're working with but I do know someone is trying to frame Sharon and you're going along with it. I'll prove you're wrong, that's what I'm gonna do."

Cookie scoffed "Good luck with that, Barnes"

Bucky put his hands on her desk and leaned into her space, his voice quiet and cold "I'll prove you're doing this because of your jealousy and your job and reputation will be over."

Cookie spat at him "Go fuck yourself Barnes, if you think that poorly of me you obviously never knew me. I have never been anything less than thorough and professional. I guess I should be grateful you panicked and cut me out of your life before I let myself get too attached. Good luck with Carter and get the Hell out of my office."

She sat down and went back to the packets she was finishing.

Bucky stood and stared like he was expecting something to happen before turning around and stalking off to find Sharon.

He woke up in the dark, with Sharon curled into him and looked at his watch. 9pm? Not again, his last memory was yelling at Cookie after breakfast then finding Sharon but nothing after that. He decided he had enough and scheduled an appointment with medical in the morning to see if they could help him figure out why he kept losing time.

Cookie spent the rest of the day in more briefings with senior agents to discuss the Sharon Carter problem and how to negate it. Bucky Barnes attachment to Carter was discussed as well since he had already started causing trouble over the revelations and couldn't be trusted to do the right thing.

When she was asked why they couldn't just arrest Sharon and tranq Bucky if he caused a problem, Cookie told them about her concerns that Sharon had an ally in the intel department that needed to be weeded out before Sharon.

She was back in her office, cleaning up her desk for the day when Sharon Carter herself wandered in, sat down and waited expectantly for Cookie to speak.

"What can I do for you agent Carter? I'm a little busy."

Sharon smirked "I know what you're trying to do and I understand. You're in love with Barnes and he wants me. It sucks and I know you must be hurting but slandering me won't get him back. In fact he ran to me this morning to tell me what you were trying to do and wondering why you wanted to hurt him so bad. I told him I would work it out with you."

Her face turned nasty "So here's how this is gonna work. You are going to stop trying to smear my name and leave Barnes alone, he doesn't need or want you. Think you can handle that?"

Cookie kept her face blank. "I don't need you to tell me how to do my job, agent Carter, so get the Hell out of my office."

Sharon laughed "Don't mess with me Cookie, I'm not the girl you want to play with."

Cookie faked an exaggerated yawn "Sure Carter, I'm scared."

Sharon smirked "It doesn't matter what evidence you have, you know. Barnes won't believe you. You could record me telling you that I'm the power broker and want the Soldat to be my enforcer because that's the truth." She grinned and winked "and show it to him. He won't believe you, he's already mine." She sighed "Of course now that you're on to me I will have to adjust my plans but he will want to go with me, even beg to come to protect me from all of you.

Don't chase us little girl, you won't like what you catch."

Her grin grew to something that would rival the Joker "In fact, go ahead and show him. I know FRIDAY is recording all this so let's go and show him. I want you to see how pointless this all is so you can leave us alone."

Her face hardened "Let's go" she grabbed Cookie by her upper arm and dragged her away from her desk. Cookie tried to fight her but she wasn't great with hand to hand, give her a weapon and she might have a chance but Sharon didn't give her the opportunity to grab anything.

When they arrived at Bucky's room Sharon's face softened before Bucky answered the door.

"Hey doll, you don't have to knock just-" he stopped and frowned when he saw Cookie "What the Hell is going on, Cookie have you been harassing Sharon?"

He looked to Sharon for an explanation.

Sharon was able to squeeze a tear from her eye "I was by her office to talk to Maria and Cookie said she was watching me and knew she could prove that I'm the power broker. Listen to what she said. Friday can you play the audio from my talk in Cookies office a few minutes ago?"

"Of course agent Carter."

A recording started of Sharon and Cookies interaction in her office. Bucky started listening with a passive face but he grew angrier with everything Sharon said.

Cookie felt hopeful that he would finally see the truth about Sharon but he aimed his ire at her.

"Seriously Cookie? You just can't let it go can you? Sharon hasn't done anything except make me happy and it's killing you. Like I'm some prize to be won. I never thought you would compromise yourself like this but maybe I'll have a talk with Fury and Hill about your obsession with me."

Cookie just stared at him, trying to figure out what the Hell he was talking about. They both heard Sharon say she was the power broker but he still didn't believe it. "Are you listening to the same audio I am Barnes? She said right there shes the power broker and wants the Winter Soldier to be her enforcer."

Bucky glared at her "Jesus Cookie, that's not even close to what she said. Maybe you need to take a vacation because you're losing it."

He looked her up and down "Honestly you look like shit. When did you stop taking care of yourself? I definitely wouldn't have slept with you if you looked like this."

Sharon just stood next to Bucky grinning like a JackAss at Cookie. "I told you Cookie, he's mine so let it go."

Cookie took a breath then turned and walked away without another word. Sharon must have found some way to brainwash him again and Cookie knew there was nothing she could do right now except notify Fury and Hill that Bucky was under Sharon's control so they could work on getting him back. They scheduled a meeting for first thing the next morning at 5am.

Cookie was woken up by her phone ringing at 3am after just falling asleep. It was Sam, Bucky and Sharon were gone, Stark phones and tracking devices left sitting on the desk in his quarters.

Chapter 4

The Power Broker and The Winter Soldier, in the wind.

@erelierraceala @capswife @ozwriterchick @cjand10 @wintrsoldrluvr @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @browneyedgrli @greatenthusiasttidalwave @hhiggs @dontworryboutitsweetheart-blog @behindmygreyeyes @pattiemac1 @calwitch @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @ordelixx

[owleics-fr]

Simple skin & accent tutorial!

I'm only familiar with making accents in CSP so some of the things you see here might be program specific, but for the most part it should be generally applicable.

Okay with that being said, here's a very basic tutorial, under a readmore because it got long (image heavy)

Assuming you already know roughly what you want to make and what breed pose you want to make it on, go to the custom skins page on the sidebar then download PSDs. For this step I'm choosing coatl F!

It should download automatically, the file will be compressed (zipped). I normally just open the folder and move the top file (without elements_friendly) to my accents folder to access it from my art program:

Open your preferred art program and open the file! It is a PSD file so it should be compatible with most art programs. When you open it, everything should look like this:

The layers probably look complicated, and it isn't super clear where you can and can't draw- but I promise it will get easier to understand! Before I even start drawing I do two things: I resize the image (changing the image resolution) to 700px by 700px. This means the image the resize better later on when I need to downscale it to 350px by 350px. Next, I make a new folder under both the existing folders with a single, full white layer in it. And set everything in "Through Skin Parts" to 50% opacity.

Lastly, put the bottom two folders completely out of your mind, we won't be touching them at all. The only folder that matters is "Through Accent Parts". As I'm drawing the accent itself, I make the lines and shadows layer invisible because they can just be distracting, like this:

That layer beneath both lines and shadows layers? The one labelled "Accent Goes Here"? That's where you draw, and you can make more layers to draw more on later. For now you can sketch your design on that layer. Here's my sketch for my skin Strawberry Pavlova:

It's pretty rough at the moment so I want to add another layer to draw my clean line art on, in CSP this means just adding another layer and turning off clipping which automatically applies as the layers above it have clipping turned on. When that's done it should look like this:

(You can absolutely use more layers for lining if that's what you prefer!)

Next is adding colour. An important thing to note for this step is to avoid using colours that are very close to black, and to avoid using black altogether. This is against skin and accent rules as you need lines and shadows to remain visible over your design, and very dark colours make this a lot harder!

When I typically colour my skins and accents I will separate out design elements (so for example all plants on one layer, all blue cloth into another layer, all jewellery on another, etc etc.) into different layers- this is purely to make recolouring easier and isn't necessary. In this case I didn't have my colours separated out as I had no intention of recolouring this skin! This is what this skin looked like when I was finished colouring:

Now I just need to do some final finishing polish on the design! For this one it involves adding a bit of pink transparent colour behind the strawberries, adding pale transparent colour under my lace and of course- adding sparkles! One of the final things I do is recolour my own line art to a red-pink colour (in this case I had it set to multiply as well- but this isn't needed!) this takes some of the harsh edges out of the accent and make the design feel more cohesive imo!

And the design is finished! The final step before we can submit this is a big one! We have to change the lines and shadows that we've been ignoring this whole time. For this I flatten all the art work into one layer, like this:

Why do we have to change the lines and shadows? Well...

The default shadows are pretty high opacity and very grey, they cover up my accent and make the details harder to see. And the default line art is black. You can edit these layers to make them much nicer. You can edit them manually- making sure to lock transparent pixels so you don't edit the coverage of the lines and shadows. Or you can do this: (You can ignore this next part if you're finding it overwhelming) Duplicate your accent design twice (so you have three layers with it on total), set both your lines and shadows layers to normal and unclip them. Your layers will look like this:

Ignore what the accent looks like for now. Next move the copied layers so one is above the lines and one is above the shadows, keeping only one in the original position. And then clip these duplicated accent layers to the layers directly beneath them, it will look like this:

Merge the accent copy layers with its corresponding lines or shadows layer, you should still have 3 separate layers when you're done: The lines, the shadows and your original accent design. Like this:

Then clip both of the lines and shadows onto your accent design layer and set both lines and shadows layers to multiply. Like this:

If you've done it all correctly your accent should now look like this:

This is a lot better than the default lines and shadows already! It's pretty dark in spots and my lines are definitely too light in other places though. So next I usually start by setting my shadows layer to 50% opacity and then going over both lines and shadows layers manually recolouring the lighter parts to a darker colour so they are visible on top of my final design. When you downscale your art to submit it, lines and shadows that were super obvious suddenly vanish- so don't be afraid to downscale it and keep editing the lines and shadows.

Here's what the final product, downscaled to 350 pixels, looks like:

This got accepted first try by skin mods (just in time for valentines!) Important things to note: places where my design is less opaque the lines and shadows are also less visible, this is completely fine! You don't have to fix this. Lines should always be visibly darker than the shadows they're on top of, this means sometimes they will have to be black to get them to show up or you may even have to make your accent underneath lighter to get everything to conform to the rules! Lastly, lines and shadows are subjective and you may end up getting rejected a few times before they're to skin mods liking. Its one of the harder parts of skin making and you won't always get it right.

Community feedback is your best friend, don't create in a vacuum! Go join discord servers where other people are making accents too, ask for help! Now go forth and make!

[hogwartslegacypics]

I THINK I FOUND IT!!

If you didn’t see my recent post, I discovered an audio file of Sebastian saying, “I actually grew up near here. Not sure I appreciated it when I was younger,” which confirms he and his parents lived somewhere in the Highlands in a location accessible to us. I’ve since thoroughly explored all of the hamlets with Sebastian in attempts to trigger the line, initially suspecting it was something he’d say as a companion near the location, but unfortunately had no success. I also checked every single house in those hamlets for cellars and only found one.

It’s possible his parents’ house isn’t in any of the hamlets, and is a random house in the middle of nowhere we have yet to find, or (if his line was completely cut from the game early enough in game development) the house itself was never put in the game.

It’s also possible that the house I found with the cellar was their house, and the devs just chose to cut Sebastian’s line for whatever reason (or it was never a line intended to be spoken by him as a companion, keep reading). The house is Mary Portman’s house in Aranshire with the spider infested cellar. If true, it’s sad to think that’s what became of their house, but at least MC eventually clears them out.

Considering Sebastian’s quote, the location genuinely does make a lot of sense. Now that he lives in Feldcroft, so far away from Hogwarts and Hogsmeade (basically in the middle of nowhere), he realizes that he didn’t appreciate getting to live so close to all the action when he was younger. Another reason the location makes sense is because his parents were Professors and Aranshire is so close to Hogwarts. I now believe that the quote was cut from the Hogsmeade quest since it would make sense he’d say that as he’s walking us to Hogsmeade and telling us about the school and the surrounding area. He sounds very cheerful in the audio clip too, and he was in a good mood that entire walk. It really does sound like it could have been taken right from that quest. EDIT: Also the word “actually” in the quote makes it seem like it’s not something he randomly says out of the blue but it would have to be during conversation that’s already happening, like the Hogsmeade quest.

If we go inside the cellar, it seems like it could have been used as a library/study (“cellar library” as Ominis told us). Mary Portman even left a note implying she never utilized her cellar before the spider incident. It was almost like she suddenly remembered she had a cellar when she was wondering where to raise her spiders. Because of that, it’s likely those books in there belonged to the previous owner, and the cellar was completely untouched until Mary moved her spiders in. As you can see, they’ve since wreaked havoc in there.

[cringeborg]

1830s Unmentionables Set

A recolor of @arethabee's Jasmine dress to add some early 19th-century long stays on top, as well as some accessory drawers to pair with the recolor. I made these a long time ago and will admit they're not my best work, but I think they could be useful for historical gameplay. And the mesh is so cute and fits so well it's worth it!

Both have a few swatches in relatively neutral tones + some basic colors + black. I've never seen any colorful or black stays from this time period, so the color choices are probably a bit historically inaccurate, but some variety can't hurt.

The hair in the above previews is by the amazing @the-melancholy-maiden and can be found here. I recommend combining it with this set to complete the ensemble.

This is a bit of a long post, so I'm putting the rest under the cut.

1830s Long Stays

Mesh is required

14 swatches

I say 1830s, but they could work for pretty much the first half of the 19th century, up until the early 1840s

All LODs

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Display index by decade

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1830s Accessory Drawers

These accessory drawers don't look very good on their own, I'll admit. They're definitely meant to be covered with a skirt of some kind.

The drawers are divided into four different files, which require some explanation. The drawers on the left are V1. They're compatible with most skirt lengths, but are a bit bulky and are at risk of clipping with whatever you put on top, specifically at the thighs and hips. The ones on the right are V2. They've been decapitated to minimize bulkiness, but of course they won't look good with skirts that are too short.

Both V1 and V2 are compatible with the stays in this set. And both V1 and V2 are found in two different categories: Leggings and Socks. Why put something like this in Socks? Well, simply because a lot of good CC stockings are in the Leggings category, including the ones seen in the previews. So there are four files: V1 Leggings, V1 Socks, V2 Leggings, and V2 Socks. Get them all or get just one - it's your choice. Hope this cleared things up.

BGC

Four versions, please read the description above!

18 swatches

Found in the Leggings and Socks categories

All LODs

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Display index by decade

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Download .zip (SFS)

Alt Download (Mediafire)

[frost-queen]

To his liking (Reader x Steve Raglan /W. Afton)

Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury,  @imagines-by-her,  @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn

A/n: This is my first time doing something for this fandom. I hope it is any good as I didn't have much time for my regular request so I whipped something up. Summary: In need of a new job you find yourself at Steve Raglan's office hoping he would find a job for you. [part 2 & part 3 & part 4]

Your knee trembled nervously. Sweaty palms rubbing against your legs. You had read the posters in the little waiting room numerous times. All silly adds with cheesy lines. Your gaze drifted to the left where an elderly lady was typing loudly in her computer. Her face hidden behind the big box of a screen. The smell of her coffee adding a new scent to the already muffy smelling room.

You seated yourself better, feeling that your bottom had been hurting from sitting on that darn wooden stool for what seemed ages. Four wooden stools lined up against the walls in order to wait. Beside the stool on your right was a small table with old magazines. At least dated from five years back. Looking back around you started to wonder why you were even her. Yet the answer was very clear.

This was your last chance. Your last chance at making a change. Rubbing your sweaty palms over your legs again, you let yourself slouch down in the chair. Just a few more minutes and you might call it off. Simply get up and walk out as you weren’t getting anywhere. Waiting for ages. Waiting for that wooden door to finally open and allow you to meet your future.

The clock ticking almost tauntingly by the minute. It was agonizing to wait this long. It was almost as if they were testing your duration. See how long you would stand with it before throwing in the towel. Sighing again you moved your bottom to the back of the stool, leaning forwards. Palms in your hair. The lady behind her desk kept typing loudly without a care or notice of you.

This was it. You had enough. Leg shaking nervously. You jumped up with a deep breath. At the same time you got up, opened the wooden door. No one standing in the door opening. It made you stare at the door wondering if anyone else before you would head out.

A slim figure wearing glasses opened the door more standing in the opening. – “Y/n Y/l/n just who I was expecting.” – he said moving a bit back to create an opening. Somehow you kept staring at him. He chuckled waving you over. – “Come, come don’t be shy. I don’t bite.” – he teased with half a smirk.

Walking up to him you saw the lady behind the compute follow your movement with her head. Her expression dull and neutral. Pausing briefly in the door opening you looked up to the man. He smiled invitingly at you. With one soft breath you entered more as the door got shut behind you. – “Please, sit.” – he offered gesturing at another one of those uncomfy chairs. You sat down looking around his office. He walked behind you across towards the coffeemaker. You kept your gaze in front of you, pressing your hands between your legs.

A name clip standing on his desk. Raglan it read. Steve Raglan. – “Coffee?” – you heard him call out. Humming loud you snapped out of your little thought bubble. – “Oh uhm no thank you.” – you answered moving your hands away. Raglan went to his desk, sitting down across from you. He set his coffee mug aside. He leaned a bit back taking a file from his desk. He opened it leaning fully back.

Taking a deep breath, he rubbed his finger over his beard and mouth. You kept a close eye on his expression. His seriousness when his eyes trailed over the words. The way you felt a bit shy around him. He took a soft gasp of breath leaning forwards to the desk, laying your file down. – “I’m going to be honest with you Y/n… may I call you Y/n?” – he asked looking over at you.

You nodded hesitantly with a flush in your cheeks. – “With your record of work, it won’t be easy to find someone that would like to hire you.” – he said making you swallow nervously. – “Yelling and cursing at a parent.” – he read out loud with a slight shake of his head. – “Calling them a pervert and kicking them in the…” – he stopped as his gaze went up to you. – “Delicate area’s.” – he added waving his hand down his stomach to show you.

“That is unacceptable behaviour Y/n.”  - he went on picking up your file again. – “He had it coming.” – you mumbled. Raglan curling up a smile. – “I’m sure he did.” – he responded as it startled you that he had heard you. – “I’m not hear to judge you Y/n but that wasn’t your first fall-out.” – he looked down at your file, flipping a page.

And another one. – “You have a history of being violent.” – his gaze flashed up to you. Was there a hint of a smile on him? Did your violent history amuse him? He placed the file down again leaning forwards as he folded his hands before him. – “It’s not going to be easy for you Y/n.” – his words echoing like doomsday in your mind. Were you done for it?

“So you got nothing for me?” – you asked trying to hide your fear of having nothing. Raglan licked his lips leaning back in his chair. – “I’m afraid so.” – he replied watching you closely. You broke. Leaning back to look up at the ceiling with the deepest sigh. You were ready to get up and walk out. What use was staying here if he had nothing to offer you.

Raglan picked up on your urge to get up and walk out. He got up making you freeze half way from getting up. You watched him go around the desk to come lean against the edge on your side. It made you sit back down eager to know what he wanted to say.

He stroked his beard thoughtfully. – “I might have something for you.” – he started sparking up your interest. – “The hours are brutal and the pay-check even worse.” – he went on. – “I don’t care.” – you said eagerly grabbing onto the railing of the chair. Raglan smiled. – “Ever heard of Freddy fazzbear’s pizzeria?” – he asked. You shook your head. – “It was a big thing in the eighties.” – he added. – “Before it got shut down.” – he finished looking down at you.

He looked briefly over his shoulder to your file on his desk. – “I read in your file you played dress-up for kid’s parties a few years ago.” – you hummed loud to acknowledge him. Raglan chuckled softly removing himself slightly from the desk. His hand grabbed for your chin, tilting your head back. His eyes locking with yours.

Somehow you didn’t push his hands away. Actually finding it mesmerizing how they held you. – “How do you stand against masks?” – he asked. – “Although it would be a shame to hide that pretty face of yours behind one.” -  You felt your cheeks burn up from his words. – “What do I have to do?” – you asked as he let go of your chin. – “Dress up.” – he spoke plainly. – “I…I thought the place got shut down?” – you asked to be sure you had heard him correctly.

 “You’d make a fine addition to the… family.” – he answered deflecting your question. – “The kids will love you.” – he muttered to himself. He took you by your hands making you stand up. – “What do you say Y/n do you plan on staying?” – he asked holding your hands dearly.

Having no other option you accepted. It didn’t sound that bad. Dressing up for some kids. As long as there weren’t any rude or perverse parents to test your temper. Raglan curled up a sinister smile.

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

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!  

[nataliescatorccioapologist]

I visited the WGA library to read Yellowjackets scripts and wanted to share some of my findings! (Pt. 1)

So as some of you may know, scripts for the latter half of Yellowjackets Season 1 have already been released to the public (you can find 1x05-1x10 here: https://drive.google.com/drive/mobile/folders/1FctrMniXqWRFJOe-rX6dSgvmXEO2KyLE?usp=share_link) and the Pilot script is pretty easily accessible on the internet if you look it up.

However, I have never been able to find the scripts for the rest of S1. An old draft of 1x04 can be found on Script Slug but A LOT has been changed from this script to the final product (Van is dead, Nat actually killed her dad, Javi is called Cody?!). It’s an interesting read for sure but it seems the actual final script of “Bear Down,” along with “F Sharp” and “Dollhouse,” are not accessible on the internet. So I headed over to the WGA Library and checked out those three scripts to read! It was super interesting (highly recommend going if you’re in the LA area!). I was not able to get any pictures of the scripts due to the Library policy, but I took lots of notes and saved some of my favorite lines!

I’m going to start with 1x02 and make two separate posts of 1x03 and 1x04 because otherwise this post would be way too long!

1x02 “F Sharp”

•The episode starts with Misty’s POV of the crash, and there’s this line that I love:

“Across from her, Lottie reaches forward to desperately clutch Laura Lee’s hand in the aisle. Their shared terror making it all the more clear that, in this moment, Misty is all alone.”

This shows Misty’s longing for companionship and affection. Even in what she thinks might be her last moments, she is utterly alone. I think this moment is part of what tips her over the edge into obsession in her relationships with Coach Ben, Crystal, and Natalie.

•In the final product, we don’t really see what Nat’s POV of the plane crash is (other than her nightmare in 1x03 but I’m not sure if that actually happened or not?) but in the script she gets knocked unconscious and buried under a bunch of luggage and equipment and the other girls have to dig her out.

•Misty and Taissa are the ones to pry the exit door open for everyone to escape.

•Jackie doesn’t even try to save Van in the script, she just immediately runs over and tries to drag Shauna away from Van from the get-go.

“Jackie runs after Shauna and starts clawing at her, trying to get her to move toward the exit.”

•After Shauna and Jackie make it outside the wreckage, Jackie and Shauna “begin fighting angrily in the dirt, Jackie clearly still desperately afraid to remain so close to the fiery wreckage” as Shauna tries to go back in for Van.

•And I just thought this descriptor was a cute little addition; after Misty chops off Coach Ben’s leg, we get this line:

“And as we realize this little show called ‘Yellowjackets’ is sick, unexpected and awesome, we smash cut to—

MAIN TITLE”

•“Laura Lee trying in vain to hold and comfort a struggling, hyperventalating Javi.”

A nice little moment of Laura Lee comforting Javi as he’s trying to find his dad.

•”Jackie: For the record, I was trying to save you. I thought…

I was going to lose you. Jackie bites her lip, a little teary. Shauna glances at her and nods, I know—but we also get the sense that Van isn’t the only one judging Jackie right now.”

A little Jackie/Shauna moment. You can see how much Jackie loves Shauna, but Shauna is still conflicted over Jackie’s choice to leave Van behind.

•Some things Caligula says when Natalie breaks into Misty’s house:

“Hello, pretty lady!”

“Hells bells! My dogs are barking!”

Love this.

•The information Misty has in her secret file: articles and magazine covers about the crash, press clippings, a local wedding announcement for Shauna and Jeff, Taissa’s campaign flyer, and a brochure for Natalie’s rehab clinic.

•When Nat asks Misty why she has all of this information, Misty says:

“You guys are the most important people in my life.”

Just another reminder that Misty’s whole existence revolves around the Yellowjackets, even after 25 years.

•Nat is hyper focused on looking at Travis’s drivers license in the bar scene when Kevyn walks up to her. She totally ignores Kevyn, just focused on Travis’ picture. She is described as looking “pale” and “like she’s seen a ghost.” Just shows how hung up Nat is on Travis and how much that relationship fucked her up.

•Misty says “Holy macaroni” when she sees Coach Martinez’s body. Insane.

•Okay brace yourselves for this one guys, in the script Coach Martinez is STILL ALIVE when they find him impaled on the tree.

“The coach’s eyes pop open. He suddenly grabs Travis. Eyes wild with pain and fear, the coach tries to speak but only makes raspy sounds as blood bubbles at his lips.”

“Travis: Dad! Let go!”

Travis’s dad won’t let go and there’s a scene where Travis is trying to claw him off of him, then the tree branch cracks and Travis shakes his dad off of his arm, “knows it’s his dad or the both of them” and the tree branch falls.

Wow. As if the scene that ended up making it in the final product wasn’t traumatic enough, Travis has to actively let his dad fall to his death when he’s still alive and desperately clinging to him? Ouch. I’m glad they cut that scene honestly poor Travis.

•Shauna is holding Javi and comforting him during and after this scene.

“We see Shauna still comforting Javi, we can’t hear what she’s saying but her body language is very giving—a maternal streak she didn’t know she had.”

Love the nod to Shauna’s maternal nature here. She’s naturally very nurturing and caring, but after she loses her baby she becomes more cold and distant with her other child, Callie, in fear that she will lose her too. I just love seeing the before and after here, we get to see what Shauna was like before all of the trauma. Shauna wants to nurture Callie, it’s a natural part of her personality as this scene with Javi shows, but she can’t get too attached after what happened in the Wilderness.

•In the adult timeline, there’s another deleted scene in which Nat drives to Shauna’s house and spies on her from outside.

“She seems to be fighting an impulse to get out of her car, but her feelings are unclear. Does she look uneasy? Vindictive?”

Another hint the conflict between these two that we still haven’t seen yet? Maybe this is lingering resentment from Shauna challenging Nat’s leadership as the new Antler Queen?

•When Nat hands Travis her flask to drink from after the whole Coach Martinez incident, there’s this line:

“She wants to tell him there is nothing he could have done. How guilt like this is poison, and if he’s going to blame himself she will punch him in the face”

I think this is clearly a nod to Nat’s own guilt around her father’s death. She knows that Travis is likely tearing himself apart inside because she did the same thing after her father’s death. She blamed herself, as Travis is doing now. Also love the punching him in the face line, it’s very on-brand for Nat and honestly wish she had punched him in the face a few times when he deserved it.

*1x03 and 1x04 notes to come!*

[puppiesandnightlock]

Link: Why Bruce Should Not Have The Title of World's Greatest Detective Anymore, a presentation by Tim Drake

Summary: Bruce didn't know the Super Sons were dating somehow, and Tim compiled a list of evidence of a bunch of moment here he should have caught on, but did not.

Featuring Confused and Tired Dad Bruce, PowerPoint master Tim, Traumatized Dick, and an embarrassed Damian.

Super Sons Week Bonus Day: Family and Legacy (this one won by a landslide on the tumblr poll)

In Bruce’s defense, he was a father of six officially and about twelve emotionally. He had long ago resigned his title of World’s Greatest Detective to Tim, so honestly, could you blame him for not noticing that his youngest son had had company around more often? And come on, it was Jonathan Samuel Kent, the two were practically glued to each other even before recent developments. 

How recent, he wasn't sure. 

And now he had to sit through a folder Tim had given him, evidence compiled in an attempt to clear things up in his head. He plugged in the USB that fell out of it and it opened to a powerpoint.

Of course.

Angels and Demons, or otherwise known as B, how the fuck did you not know?

A presentation by Tim Drake 

Evidence #1: “Wrestling.”

The slide played a clip of surveillance feed from inside of the manor. Damian had Jon pinned to the ground, both panting and flushed. 

“What’s going on here?” Bruce turned the doorknob, poking his head through the door.

Damian scrambled off of the taller boy, schooling his features to a mask of indifference. 

Jon made no such efforts, choosing to starfish across the carpeted floor, a blank look on his face as he stared at the ceiling.

“Nothing, Father, we decided to make use of our time and spar. Jonathan needs practice.” 

Bruce eyed them suspiciously, pausing to take in the scene. Damian’s usual gel slicked hair was ruffled, and Jon’s curls were splayed out on the floor, some in his face.

Then again, his hair was always a bit unruly.

Their faces were flushed, and they had been breathing heavily when he came in.

The quick once over seemingly revealed nothing to him, although one could clearly see the still blown pupils of an expressionless Jon, and both boys’ kiss-bitten lips.

“Next time, spar in the cave, that’s what it's there for.” He walked out, shutting the door behind him.

The video feed played for a bit longer, Damian putting his face in his hands, a very un-Damian-like thing to do, and groaning.

“I cannot believe that actually worked.”

Tim had left a little note on the side of the video after it stopped playing. You have six kids, and one of them is one Richard John Grayson, how on earth did you fall for that?

Evidence #2: Dates

This opened to a video from a phone, someone walking into Damian’s room and filming his fussing with his appearance in the mirror.

“Whatcha doin’, baby bat?” Tim’s voice came from the other side of the camera.

“Fixing my hair, what does it look like, Drake?”

“Whoa, whoa, chill. I’m just curious, I haven't seen you put this much interest into your appearance since you had picture day.”

Damian scowled, more out of admittance that he was right then spite.

“Say what you will, Timothy.” He hesitated. “How do I look?”

“You’ll blow his socks off, Dames.” Tim said softly, a hand reaching out from behind the phone to straighten his jacket.

Damian inhaled deeply and carefully walked down the stairs. The doorbell rang, and as if filming a reality show, Tim followed dutifully behind. Jon stood, looking as nervous as he was, holding a small bunch of wild flowers that he immediately thrust into Damian’s face. 

“Oh my god-” was whispered from Tim as the camera zoomed in on Damian, a pink flush becoming slightly visible.

“I’m so sending this to Dick.”

Damian handed off the flowers to the nearest person, but not before threading a few into Jon’s curls.

“Where are you going?” Bruce came out from the dining room, files in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other.

Tim switched the camera over to him, zooming in on his tired appearance, then zooming out so he could see everyone.

“The movies, s-sir.” Jon stuttered.

Burce raised an eyebrow. “Jon, you’ve known me for years, you can drop the formalities.”

An undignified squeak came from the boy and Damian sighed, albeit affectionately.

“We will be going, Father.”

“Have a good time.” He waved them off, disappearing into the labyrinth that is Wayne Manor.

“That’s it?” Tim was heard screeching off screen. “He gave ME hell, gave my dates HELL, broke out the KRYPTONITE when Kon even LOOKED at me, and all you get is HAVE A GOOD TIME?”

“Sucks to suck.” Damian jeered, taking Jon by the hand and dragging him out the door.

Followed by it was several screenshots from a chat titled “Rockin’ Robins”, all of them sharing stories until someone pointed out that maybe Bruce didn't even know it was a date, which was accurate.

This note said There were flowers. Flowers.

Evidence #3: They were in A FUCKING CLOSET.

Bruce spat his coffee out at that, massaging his temples. This was getting to be way too much. He did not at all need to know about what had happened in the closet, especially because he remembered this particular one and frankly? It was embarrassing that he didn’t catch on then.

Bruce was walking down the hallway when he suddenly heard noises coming from the third floor janitor's closet.

Tentatively, he opened the door. The last thing he expected was for Jon and Damian to stumble out of it, school uniforms slightly unbuttoned and very rumpled. Jon’s glasses were crooked, and Damian’s tie was missing.

“F-Father!” Damian stuttered, attempting to smooth out his ruffled appearance. Jon silently handed him his tie, both boys flushing furiously under Bruce’s rather confused gaze.

“What were you doing in there? Aren’t you supposed to be on that field trip? Your class is still on the first floor.” 

“W-We were…uh-” Jon fidgeted with the buttons on his shirt, nudging Damian for help.

Suddenly, his gaze caught on something reflecting green in his son’s back pocket. His eyes narrowed and his face set into a firm expression.

“We will be talking about this at home. I’m disappointed in both of you, I thought we’d gone over this.” 

Damian’s face paled, before morphing into one of confusion. “What exactly are you talking about, Father?”

“Sneaking out for hero work.”

Both teens inwardly sobbed in relief as Damian said stiffly, “Yes, Father.”and Jon with a quaking “Sorry, Uncle Bruce.”

Satisfied in his parenting skills, Bruce continued towards his office.

If he watched the video Tim had put in from the surveillance feed of Wayne Enterprises, he could almost guarantee they would have both been sporting some rather suspicious brusings. 

Bruce stood up, he was going to need a drink to get through the rest of this. 

Unbeknownst to him, most of his kids were perched in the living room, wheezing at their father’s reactions.

Damian was rather displeased at all that was being shown, and his face was flushed red.

“Looks like baby bat isn’t so innocent.” Jason cackled.

“My precious sweet little boy, this is OBSCENE, they are BABIES!”

“Richard, I am nineteen years old.”

“BABIES.”

Tim closed the laptop as Bruce left the cave, leaning back. “It was sad, honestly, to compile all this information and realize Bruce didn't get any of it. I mean, how long has it been?”

“Three years.” Damian muttered.

“Three fucking years. It’s sad to see him go.” Duke said solemnly.

There was a moment of silence as they mourned the loss of their once perceptive father.

Then promptly burst into laughter.

@super-sons-week-2023

[xxfrankiesteinksxx]

small details in the dnpc video no one is mentioning

okay, look, i'm gonna admit it, i'm a game/film theory girly and a whore for lore, so i pick at details i shouldn't be picking at, so here's some things i see in the video that i don't see being mentioned in theories/analyses. also keep in mind my brain consists of a single cell encapsulated in aspic (i know what the actual deeper meaning is this is just a bit of fun for me)

the thing underneath the piano - the camera falls off the piano in one scene and something (i still cant figure out what exactly it might be) is visible, oddly clear-looking for something underneath a broken piano in shoddy lighting (actually looking at it again it might be a corpse, is it possibly phil's old body?)

dan telling phil not to film him drawing the sigils but phil still filming - you might be able to also throw in the part where phil screams "NO" when the camera's on him sitting in the corner; they don't seem to want things to be filmed but it feels like they're obligated to record everything to some extent

phil's very explicit control over dan - this is to the point where he even has to tell dan what and what isn't food, and takes away water privileges for some reason (btw this is your reminder to drink some water) and overall very demanding tone when instructing him

SOFT AND NEAT - there's a lot of reinforcement of this, its clearly a joke but i'm overanalytical and will blatantly ignore this. there's heavy hesitation with any sharp object around them (when dan has to cut his hand, kill phil, take out phil's heart, mentioning razor blades when using the shaving foam)

dan still primarily uses his left hand - people have mentioned how he's been "fixed" but him using his right hand seems to be performative since he pours most things, mixes with his left hand, and even primarily uses his left hand to spread the blood (plus he never sacrificed himself unlike phil who seems to have died in potato stamps and been resurrected with perfect vision) there's also old superstitions that being left-handed means you're somehow cursed by/connected to satan, speaking of which...

dan has a much better connection and the ability to communicate directly with Him - he seems to be a conduit, possibly being used by phil to properly perform anything (which also probably helped with his resurrection and eyesight improvement), he has uncontrollable actions from time to time

the sigils themselves - what do they all mean? what could they mean in a bigger, symbolic context? anyone that understands them pls explain to my aspic brain

the entire place fucking burns down after the ritual is complete and they're embraced by Him - it's clear at least to me that the shed is set on fire at the end of the video, cutting off further possible footage

dan doesn't put blood on phil's forehead during the ritual - might've just been a slipup during filming but we also dont see the blood dan put on his own forehead once he arrives and theyre all standing up in the pentagram

also just a couple fun facts:

the number on the case file when converted to corresponding letters of the alphabet spell out "satan"

what dan says in his reversed clip is just "thanks!", nothing is really said in the reversed clip of phil opening the shed door its juts kinda a random noise someone made

Aaaaand some misc nonsense crackpot theories/ideas/thoughts/brain vomit that my brain keeps me awake at night with (optional reading):

if the demon taking them at the end is actually baphomet and not just some generalized idea of satan, then "mother" could be another way to refer to "him" since baphomet is portrayed as having both female and male characteristics (bobs n pennies)

personally this is scarier/more unnerving than the actual blair witch project for some reason

my bathroom sink is the one sink you cant ship

i want a dapc for those dolls they hung everywhere

is cataloguing all of the ritual setup part of the craft channel's purpose?

what was the reason for summoning him? did they bring him to our plane of existence to just let him absorb these two brink-of-twinks and then use their gay power to torment the straights?

oh that rope is just his belt thing not rope tying dip and pip together

i think this is a good wrap-up idk what they could do in a part 5 to conclude things better