also i changed my sharpening settings and i like this more ok yes good

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NSFW - Septiplier Smut Fanfiction

This is my first fanfiction on Tumblr, I have a wattpad but I thought, hey why not share it with other people and spread the sin? Hope you enjoy:)


Third Person POV:

Jack entered hell, early Monday morning… wait, I mean school…yeah that’s what I meant…

Anyways, Jack was walking into class, receiving strange looks from the new freshmen at the two lip rings he wore, his gauges, and, of course, his hair, the colour of freshly cut grass. He wasn’t bothered by the looks because, frankly, he couldn’t care less of what everyone else thought, he was happy, so who gives a shit? Despite Jack looking and acting like a badass, he’s kind of a goodie-goodie. He is a straight A student and he has never gotten a detention. He’s also a teacher’s pet, all teachers like him, and Jack is quite proud of both his reputations.

Stepping through the doorway, Jack arrived at his English classroom, smiling at his teacher, Ms. Suzie, before taking his seat, not too close to either the front or back of the room. He didn’t want to look like a bad kid in front of his favorite teacher, but he didn’t want to look like a kiss ass in front of his fellow students.

After taking out his books and two pencils, freshly sharpened, he waited for Ms. Suzie to start today’s lesson. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Mark walk in, well, shoved in by his friend Wade, both giggling loudly. Letting out an annoyed sigh, Jack watched Mark take a seat in the far back, walking past Jack’s desk, flashing a small smile to the boy before looking away. Confused, Jack just brushed it off. Who gives a shit if the most popular dipshit in school smiled at him, they were probably making fun of him.

*Time Skip To The End Of Class*

Nearing the end of class, Ms. Suzie announced a project out of nowhere, “You will be working in partners, but don’t worry, I saved you all the hassle of choosing!”

Groans could be heard all over the classroom as Jack’s hand bolted into the air.

“Yes Jack?” She asked.

“Can I work alone?”

“No, I’m sorry but this is a partner project, it’s good for all of you to get to know each other and bond over some good ol’ literature!”

Jack sighed as Ms. Suzie began to call out names.

“Felix and Cry, Dan and Phil…” Jack slightly zoned out, almost having a panic attack over the idea of who he might be forced to work with, until he heard his name and he began hyperventilating. “Annnndddd….Jack and Mark! Alright! Try and exchange information and set up a plan for your project in the last 5 minutes!”

Jack’s breath quickened as his anxiety kicked in. ‘Fuck fuck fuck! I have to work with that asshole?!’ Jack thought. A tan hand landing on his desk broke him from his thoughts, the hand, of course, belonging to Mark, a smirk plastered on the red haired boy’s face. His warm brown eyes met Jack’s, stunning baby blue ones.

“Meet me at my house after school, ok?” Mark instructed.

Jack nodded just as the bell rang, and Mark left the classroom.

*After School*

Jack walked to Mark’s house, knowing exactly where it was, frowning as to why. Mark and Jack were best friends in primary school, they were always hanging out, practically connected at the hip, but…something changed. In secondary school Mark started making more friends, and Jack became more and more of a loner. They just drifted apart, and Jack became depressed because of it, but he met someone, Felix, who became friends with him. Now he and Felix are really close, they smoke pot together and hang out all the time, talking about anything. Felix convinced Jack to get all the piercings he loves and just become the person he is today.

What Jack doesn’t know is, Mark was jealous of Felix. Mark absolutely despises the Swede, and he’s become more of a jerk to the both of them. He started picking on them and calling them names all the time. Thus Jack’s hatred for Mark was created. Honestly though, Jack could never hate Mark, he’s always had the smallest of crushes on Mark. Although, he’d never admit it, Jack would jump at the opportunity to  hang out with Mark again, just like they used to. Jack wants to play video games and goof around like the good ol’ days! Sure, he can do that with Felix, but it’s not the same.

Arriving at Mark’s house, backpack slung loosely over his left shoulder, Jack rang the doorbell, hesitantly. After a few loud thumps, possibly of someone running down the stairs, Mark answered the door. His hair was messy and he wore an oversized red football jersey and some jeans that, not that Jack was looking, emphasized his bulge, quite nicely. A slight blush appeared on Jack’s pale face while he looked the jock up and down, noticing how attractive he looked.

Smirking at the way Jack’s eyes scanned his body, Mark spoke, “My eyes are up here, Jack.”

The Irishman’s face turned bright red as he cleared his throat awkwardly, looking to the pale grey pavement, “S-sorry, let’s just work on the project, alright?”

Rolling his eyes playfully, Mark led Jack into his house, “Feel free to grab a drink or anything. I figured we could work up in my room..?”

“Whatever you want, Mark. Whatever gets me out of here faster.”

Mark frowned a bit, hurt by the statement before brushing it off and smiling again, “Don’t act like I’m such a nuisance, Jack, we used to be pals, remember?”

“Of course I remember those terrible times,” Jack joked, following Mark up the stairs.

“Whatever, you know you liked hanging out with me,” Mark stated, flopping down onto his bed, leaving enough space for Jack to sit beside him, which Jack did.

Jack pulled out his notes, flipping through, “Whatever, I guess they weren’t terrible memories.”

“You loved me, remember? We were best friends forever?”

“I guess forever doesn’t last very long..” Jack muttered, quiet enough so Mark could barely hear him.

“Remember when we kissed?” Mark asked, looking at the boy’s face turn pink.

“Don’t talk about that…”

“So you do remember, and I do too. I also recall you enjoying it.”

“I think you did too, Mark,” Jack said, trying to turn on him a bit, still flipping through his notebook, licking at his lip rings nervously.

“Maybe a little..” Mark said, noticing Jack’s nervous habit, biting his lip.

'Why does he have to be so cute?!’ Mark wondered.

“So shut up, we both liked it.”

After a moment of slightly awkward silence, Mark spoke up, “Didn’t we agree to do it again?”

Jack’s eyes widened, “Y-yeah..”

“But we never did..”

“No, we didn’t..”

“Perhaps we should then..? I’m a man of my word, Jack.”

Mark sat up, noticing the way Jack blushed, smiling at how adorable and nervous he was, “Would you want to do it again?”

“B-but we’re supposed to be working on the project…not kissing.”

“C'mon Jack, you know you want to..”

“Mark we’re supposed to be working..”

“Don’t be a pussy!”

“Fine!” Jack grabbed Mark’s face, kissing him deeply.

It took him a moment to realize what he just did, making him pull back when he did.

“I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

Mark quieted the Irishman by connecting their lips once again, the cold metal from Jack’s piercings touching his lips, making him smirk. Mark always thought Jack’s piercings made him way hotter.

Jack kissed back, making the Half-Korean boy smirk, moving his lips faster while resting his hand on Jack’s thigh, rubbing slightly on his black skinny jeans. The small boy was the first to break the kiss.

“Mark we can’t, we have to work on the project..”

“I don’t care about the project, I want you.”

Jack blushed as Mark slowly pushed him back on the bed, kissing him roughly. Slowly, Mark inched his hand up the Irishman’s shirt, making Jack shiver from his touch. Mark’s lips moved to Jack’s neck as he began sucking and nibbling on his pale flesh, gently. A small moan escaped the small boy’s lips, making him cover his mouth quickly.

“Don’t be shy, you sound pretty when you moan,” Mark complimented, pecking the small boy on the lips before sucking on his jawline.

“M-Mark…” Jack whimpered.

“I swear to god if you say one more thing about the project-”

“N-no I want you to do something for me..”

“Oh, of course, what is it?”

“I want you to fuck me..” Jack said, softly, blushing and looking away.

Mark grinned, “Gladly.”

Mark pulled off his shirt revealing his honey coloured abs. Jack blushed and looked him over. Grinning, Mark kissed Jack, licking at the piercings on his bottom lip, asking for entrance. Easily enough, Jack granted the red haired boy access to his mouth, feeling his tongue travel his mouth. Deciding he wanted to stop taking his sweet ass time, Mark began to palm Jack through his jeans. Moans and whimpers filled the room, thank god Mark’s mom isn’t coming home for a few hours.

“Fuck, Mark~”

Grinning, Mark pulled away, “Take off your clothes.”

Jack blushed and stood up, noticing Mark watching him, waiting intently. Slowly, Jack pulled off his shirt, dropping it to the floor. Next came his jeans, which he inched down his waist very slowly. Mark enjoyed the show but noticed Jack was still in his boxers.

“Well..?” Mark questioned, in a slightly impatient manner. “Aren’t you going to finish? I told you to undress.”

“A-all the way?” Jack’s eyes widened as Mark nodded.

Shyly, Jack slid off his boxers, in an extremely slow manner. Soon enough, Jack’s boxers hit the floor and his half-hard cock was released, making Mark’s dick twitch in his jeans.

“Good boy, looks like you can follow orders.”

The praise made Jack harder than he was, but why? He loves praise.

“You like when I tell you you’re a 'good boy’? Someone’s got a praise kink, huh?” Mark grinned. “Lay down on you back.”

Jack did as he was told, watching Mark stand up and unzip his pants, pulling them off. Feeling even more turned on, Jack began to slowly jerk himself off. Mark pulled off his boxers, his cock springing free. Then, Mark noticed Jack pleasuring himself.

“Did I tell you you could touch yourself?” Mark’s dominant voice made him pull his hands back from his cock, nervously, shaking his head. “Good boy, don’t ever touch yourself without permission, or daddy will have to punish you, baby boy.”

Mark’s warning made Jack bite his lip, while Mark referring to himself as 'daddy’ made him hornier. Jack also enjoyed the nickname, 'baby boy’ was both cute and very hot.

Their lips rejoined, Mark beginning to palm Jack once again.

“F-Fuck, Mark~”

“Ah ah ah,” Mark corrected. “Be a good baby boy and call me 'daddy’”

“Yes daddy,” Jack whimpered. “I’m a good boy, see?”

“Yes you are, you’re such a good boy, Jack.” Mark stated, starting to jerk Jack off while nibbling on the smaller boy’s collar bone.

“Daddy, please~” Jack moaned.

“Mm, please what, baby boy?”

“Fuck me.”

“Only if you beg for me.”

“B-but, daddy,” Jack whined, feeling Mark release his cock.

“Beg, slut.”

“Fuck, please daddy, fuck me! I want your huge cock inside me! Please, I’ve been a good boy for you, daddy! Please fuck me!”

Mark grinned, flipping the Irishman onto his stomach, taking in the view of his perfect little bum, “Do you want daddy to stretch you?”

Thinking for a moment, Jack shook his head. He knew he enjoyed the pain he received while being fucked before being stretched. Sure, he had only fucked a few times, his first time with Felix, but he knew what he liked.

“Are you sure? It’s going to hurt a little..”

“Please just do it daddy, I can’t wait much longer, I need your thick cock inside my tight hole, please!”

Well, Mark couldn’t deny Jack what he wanted. He wanted to please the small punk boy the best he could. Unsure of the next time he’d be able to fuck the boy, Mark decided he’d better make the most of this opportunity. Spreading the boy’s legs a bit, Mark aligned his cock with the his hole, preparing to thrust into him.

Giving a small warning, Mark pushed inside Jack, quickly. Whimpers and winces escaped the Irishman’s lips. Mark gave him almost no time to get used to his size before he began thrusting in and out of Jack, quickly. Jack was overwhelmed by pain, so much pain that it began to seem pleasurable. Soon enough, the punk boy began to moan as the jock thruster faster.

“Daddy! Fuck, faster, harder, please~!”

Doing as requested, the red haired male began to thrust harder and faster. Jack felt he was reaching his high, attempting to warn Mark in between moans.

“Daddy, I’m g-gonna….I’m c-close~”

“Me too baby boy,” Mark said, aiming his cock in different directions, trying to hit that one spot that would make Jack scream for him.

Then, he hit it. Jack came as if on command.

“F-Fuck, DADDY~!”

Hearing Jack scream for him made Mark cum almost instantly. A warm sensation filled Jack’s rear before he felt Mark pull out of him. Both of them were panting and laying on their backs on Mark’s bed, smiling like idiots.

“H-how was that?” Mark breathed out.

“Amazing.”

“Good, then we’ll have to do t again sometime.”

“Definitely.”

“I am a man of my word, I hope you are, too.”

“Of course, I would jump at an opportunity to do this again.”

Pigs’ Feet (Daryl Dixon imagine)

imagine: shortly after meeting a man named daryl, you get attacked and badly injured. daryl takes you back to alexandria where denise needs to give you stitches, but your anxiety bubbles up and you have a panic attack. as clueless as daryl is, he attempts to help you keep calm. (2772 words)

based on this request from anon: imagine where the reader has anxiety and hates needles and anything medical really but while on a run with daryl reader gets cut badly and needs to get stitches so daryls there to calm the reader down and help out. pleeaaase :)

note: so i changed this a little so that daryl doesn’t actually know the reader very well at all so of course they wouldn’t be on a run together! hope thats ok and as always i am sorry for the wait. also writing denise made me so sad i love her so much and she shouldnt be dead tbh. screencap below from here - natasha

  It was all about perseverance. That was my mantra for surviving the apocalypse, and it was what I told myself as I attempted my eleventh handstand. I had a lot of spare time on my hands, not least because the world was over, but also because I had no group to talk to and nothing to scavenge.

  My lack of people had come about gradually. There had been more than twenty of us to start with, but the dead had wiped half of us out within a matter of months. Those of us that were left could deal with the corpses: it was the living we had to fear. Another group infiltrated our camp in the dead of night, murdered everyone in sight and swiped our resources. Three of us survived, myself included. Then my two friends left the world like boats drifting out to sea, their frail bodies clenched tight by illness. And now it was just me.

  I had wandered the earth in a trance in the weeks after their deaths, unsure if it was worth being alive, or even if I was alive. Then I had come across a slice of heaven — a tiny cabin buried deep in the woods, the shelves inside brimming with long-life tins of food. A crystal-clear stream ran steadily just a short walk away, and whoever had lived there previously had stocked up well on weapons: three guns hung on the wall, and a block of sharpened kitchen knives sat on the table. It was almost too good to be true, and for the first few days I was sure someone would return from a hunting trip and shoot me on sight for eating their food, but no one came.

  And so that was what led me to attempting handstands up against the wall of the cabin. There was nothing else to do and I had always wanted to learn ever since I was little. “Persevere,” I whispered to myself as my arms buckled underneath me yet again. Taking in a deep breath, I crouched on the floor, pushed down and lifted my legs into the air. I faltered for a second, gravity tugging my legs backwards, but I finally hit the right angle, and my heels hit the wall.

  “Yes!” I exclaimed, grinning widely. I tapped my feet against the wall in celebration and stayed in position a little longer, enjoying the head rush.

  Without warning, the door burst open. The shock of it broke my perfect handstand and I fell to the floor in a crumpled heap. I grappled for the gun under my bed and pointed it at the intruder, trying to seem threatening even in my current disheveled state.

  “Who are you?” I yelled, my hand shaking as my finger hovered on the trigger. My instinct was to shoot him: as much as I wanted to see and talk to another person, the memories of the massacre of my group were still painfully fresh. It was hard to give anyone a chance when the last strangers I’d encountered had done that.

  “Calm down. What were you doin’?” the intruder said dubiously, his eyes narrowed and a hint of bemusement flitting across his features. The man had long, dark hair; his skin shone with a light sheen of sweat, and he wore a leather vest over a dark denim shirt. The crossbow in his hands was artfully aimed to shoot an arrow clean through my skull.

  “A handstand,” I said matter-of-factly. “Who are you?” I repeated, lowering my gun ever so slightly. The fact that he hadn’t already shot me likely meant that he wasn’t planning to.

  The man’s eyebrows furrowed and he took a few steps further into the cabin. He didn’t make a move to lower his weapon, and I started to regret showing weakness so soon.

  “M’Daryl,” he muttered, his eyes darting round the shelves of the room, taking in the rows of food that still remained even after more than a month of me living here. “You?” he asked, jerking his head questioningly.

  “I’m Y/N,” I answered, finally clambering to my feet. Daryl’s eyes flicked back to me and he renewed his aim. I held out my hand.

  “Nice to meet you,” I said.

  After staring me down for a few seconds longer, Daryl lowered his crossbow and slung it over his shoulder. He wiped his hand on his pants before grasping my hand and shaking it roughly.

  “Strong handshake,” I commented, tightening my own grip to equal his.

  Daryl pulled his hand away from mine hastily, wiping his hand again.

  “Uh, so —” I began, but he interrupted me. I could see it wasn’t out of rudeness, but rather less than polished conversational skills.

  “How many walkers you killed?”

  “Um. A lot,” I said, my face scrunching in confusion. “Too many to count.”

  “How many people you killed?”

  I hesitated, thinking about lying, but decided to keep things honest. “Two.”

  “Why?” Daryl growled.

  “People came into our camp. Killed most of my group. So I killed some of them back.”

  Daryl nodded understandingly and glanced around the room again. “This all yours?”

  “Yeah. Well, kinda. I found this place and all this food was here. And the guns,” I added, gesturing to the line of weapons. “Have you got a group?” I said eagerly, caring less and less about my own set-up in the cabin, and more about the possibility of being with people again. Actual living, breathing people. People who didn’t want to kill me.

  Daryl hummed affirmatively. “Got this place, Alexandria. Couple miles east from here. Y’can come with me. Meet Rick, he’ll have the final say.”

  “Sounds good.” I tried to stay cool and nonchalant, but I couldn’t help the beaming smile that overcame me. “You wanna take some of this stuff with us?”

  “Was just ‘bout to ask,” he said, immediately grabbing tins off the shelves and stuffing them into his bag. I smiled wryly and joined in, putting all five jars of pickles in the bottom of my backpack, and then padding the space around them with instant soup packets. Daryl and I worked our way round the shelves, meeting in the middle. Both of us reached out for the pickled pigs’ feet, and Daryl’s hand brushed the back of mine.

  “You like them too?” I asked, having never met someone in my life who shared the same penchant for the things.

  He shrugged and the warmth of his hand was long gone from mine, but he surreptitiously slid two of the other jars of feet into his bag.


  Daryl told me that he’d hidden his motorcycle slightly off the road, and that it would take us an hour or so to reach the spot. After trekking through the woods for half an hour, we were walking down a long and empty road, Daryl a few feet in front, our bags heavy with tins, jars and guns. I’d suggested taking the kitchen knives too, but Daryl assured me that Alexandria had plenty of knives already.

  “So, how many people live in Alexandria?” I said after a few minutes of silence.

  “A few.”

  “What’s Rick like? Is he the leader?”

  “Yeah,” Daryl muttered, ignoring my first question.

  “You don’t talk much, do you?” I teased.

  “You talk too much,” Daryl said, shooting me an irritated glare.

  As soon as he turned away I raised my eyebrows and smirked at his annoyance. He was one of the strangest people I’d ever met, but I kind of liked it.

  We finally came across the spot where Daryl had left his motorcycle hidden, and Daryl pulled it from a bed of dry leaves, sweeping off the clinging twigs and leaves with the care of a mother cleaning her child’s face.

  Just as I was about to comment on the obvious adoration that Daryl had for his motorcycle, a man tore from within the trees brandishing a knife and ran straight at us. Daryl let the motorcycle drop back to the ground and fumbled for his crossbow, no doubt alarmed at the sudden appearance of the man. I pulled my gun from its holster but before I could even turn the safety off the man had grabbed me round the waist and slid the knife along my stomach. My thick jacket meant that there couldn’t be too much damage, but he’d pressed hard and I felt hot blood gush from the wound.

  I managed to flick the safety off and shot the man in the arm just as one of Daryl’s arrows plunged into the man’s head. I breathed in and out shakily and pushed the man away, his limp body thudding sickeningly as it hit the ground. “What… the fuck… was that guy’s problem?” I said hoarsely, already feeling faint from the blood I was losing.

  Daryl looked in alarm from my midriff to the man’s knife that was still clutched in his dead fist. “Shit.”

  “What? It’s… it’s fine, right?” I said quietly, but before I’d even finished the sentence I looked down and saw the blood seeping stickily through my clothes.

  “We need to get back. Now,” he said urgently, picking up the motorcycle and righting it.

  I was barely aware of Daryl pulling me onto the seat behind him, and it was a miracle that I didn’t fall off and die during the trip back. My arms clung to Daryl’s waist weakly and the edges of my vision blurred to blackness.


  “She needs stitches,” said a woman’s voice. The last word brought me back from the bottomless lake of near-unconsciousness. I blinked in harsh white light and found I was sitting on a table in what looked like some kind of doctor’s surgery. Several figures slowly became clear: Daryl was there, taking off his blood-covered jacket and glancing at me anxiously; there was a pretty, kind-looking woman with glasses and a ponytail; and there were at least three people gathered in the doorway, eyes wide and mouths open.

  “No, no stitches,” I mumbled, shaking my head as violently as I could, though the slightest motion made me feel sick. “Please. I don’t… I can’t do needles.” I heard my voice as if I was standing on the other side of thick glass.

  “You’ll die if you don’t let me do this,” the woman said, already pulling out medical equipment from various drawers around the room.

  “Please, I can’t…” I whispered, my heart racing. My breathing was painfully fast and heavy, and my body shook with fear. Sweat glued my hair to my forehead and I couldn’t decide whether I was too hot or too cold. I felt as if I floated a few inches left of my body, and my limbs didn’t feel real.

  “I think she’s having a panic attack!” the woman said, sounding almost excited. Daryl shot her a disbelieving look. “Sorry,” she said guiltily. “But that’s psychology, I know a lot about that.”

  I swayed on the table, close to fainting not only from the loss of blood but also from the attack that was flooding my body.

  “Okay. Okay. I need to stitch you up, I’m sorry, but you need this. Then you’ll need a blood transfusion. Do you know your blood type?”

  “B positive,” I managed to get out before I retched loudly.

  “Daryl, stay,” the woman called, and I managed to turn my head to see Daryl close to the door. “You need to keep her calm.”

  “Me?” Daryl muttered.

  “Yeah, you.”

  “What do I do?”

  “Try and get her to breathe slowly and regularly, and once she’s doing that get her to count to ten. Make her feel safe and in control,” the woman said clearly and confidently. She obviously did know a lot about psychology.

  Denise pulled up a stool and threaded the needle. I sobbed as the point touched my skin and alarm bells rang as I watched it sink in to my flesh. She glanced up at me and yelled at Daryl when she saw that I was watching her work. “Make her look at you, Daryl!”

  “Look at me,” Daryl said in an almost even voice. He was still unsure, but his voice was steady enough to ground me. He gently pushed my chin towards him with his fingers so that I was facing him.

  His eyes were dark pools of blue-grey that beckoned me closer, and I kept my eyes open only so that I could keep looking at Daryl’s. He broke eye contact after a minute and looked down at Denise’s needle, which meant that I did too, and the panic rose again.

  “Daryl!” Denise shouted.

  “Shit, okay; y’need to breathe, Y/N,” he said, twisting my head towards him again.

  “I… am… breathing,” I said as I hyperventilated.

  “Like this,” he said, breathing in and out exaggeratedly slowly.  

  I tried to imitate him, and gradually I stopped hyperventilating, and my breathing felt almost normal.

  “Okay, now… count to ten?”

  I counted, and as I did so Daryl’s eyes bore into mine once more. The counting helped, but his eyes tied me to reality more than any grounding exercise could. Before I got to eight, my eyelids started drooping, and I fell into unconsciousness. The last thing I was aware of was Daryl’s hand on my back, stopping me from falling from the table.


  When I awoke, I was tucked into warm sheets, and the pillows under my head were soft and fresh-smelling. I moved a hand cautiously to my stomach, and was relieved to feel bandages covering my injuries. A tube fed into my arm and I followed its length to a blood bag towering next to the bed. I looked away quickly and covered the tube with the sheets. Another panic attack was the last thing I needed.

  “You okay?” the woman’s voice said from the corner. She was curled up in an armchair with a huge book open on her lap. “My name’s Denise. Didn’t really get the chance to introduce myself.”

  “I’m alright.” I shuffled up the bed and leant against the headboard, trying to ignore the pain that dwelled in my midriff. “I’m Y/N. Thanks for… for saving my life. I’m sorry for freaking out on you. I really can’t deal with needles. Or any of that stuff. Ever since I was a kid.”

  “Don’t apologise for a panic attack; it’s not your fault. You were really brave,” Denise said kindly. She closed the book and stood up, tucking the hardback under her arm. “I’ll come change your bandages in a few hours. Right now just get some more rest.” She opened the door to leave and revealed Daryl standing on the other side. Daryl asked with a look if he was allowed to talk to me, and Denise nodded.

  Daryl ambled into the room and Denise shut the door behind him, giving me one last sympathetic look.

  “So,” Daryl murmured.

  “Thank you.”

  Daryl looked at me carefully. “For what?”

  I resisted from rolling my eyes at his absolute cluelessness. “For helping me through that. The only person that was ever that good during my panic attacks was my mom. Nobody else ever understood.”

  “I mean. It was Denise, really,” Daryl said, his skin flushing slightly.

  “Nah, it was you.”

  Daryl nodded awkwardly and shifted from one foot to the other. “Won’t be doin’ any handstands for a while. What with that bandage and everythin’,” Daryl said, bringing up the last thing that I had expected from him.

  I let out a small laugh. “Guess not.”

  “Rick said you can stay.”

  “Really?” Happiness subdued any pain that I felt, and even the blood bag next to my bed faded to nothing more than a nuisance. “That’s so great, thank you so much.”

  “S’alright. I’m gonna go, then.” He turned to leave.

  I decided to take a risk. “You know, I read this thing once.”

  Daryl stopped and twisted his head to look at me curiously.

  “Apparently, if you make eye contact with someone for two minutes, even if they’re a complete stranger, you can get really deep feelings for each other. Just like that. It’s psychology.”

  Daryl let out a puff of air, which I assumed was his version of a laugh, and he shook his head like he thought I was crazy. Which I probably was, to say something like that to someone I’d met mere hours before.

  But it seemed to have some sort of effect, because the next afternoon Daryl returned to my bedside with two jars of pigs’ feet.

‘Rich Man’ cast finds soap an exercise in self-discovery

THE “BRAVE” show’s cast members (from left) Luis Alandy, Rhian Ramos and Chynna Ortaleza have fun between takes. LEO M. SABANGAN II

Things were going smoothly for Rhian Ramos while shooting her first “intimate” scene with screen partner, Glaiza de Castro, for the GMA 7 primetime TV series “The Rich Man’s Daughter.” They were talking intensely. Passionately, Rhian recalled.

But when they finally embraced, Rhian flinched. She felt Glaiza’s skin and it smelled of lotion. She was smaller, skinnier, softer, Rhian related—so different from her past leading men.

That made Rhian realize that she should open herself to the idea of falling for another woman. “I can’t go on thinking the way I did,” she said during a visit to the Inquirer main office in Makati City.

With each taping day, it became clear to the 24-year-old actress that this show was more than a just a job; it was an exercise in self-discovery. In the soap opera, Rhian plays Jade, a socialite and scion of a wealthy Filipino-Chinese clan, who realizes that she is a lesbian.

Also present during the multiplatform interview were Luis Alandy, who plays Jade’s spurned boyfriend, and Chynna Ortaleza, who portrays Batchi Luna, a butch lesbian.

What’s the feedback from fans?

Rhian Ramos: They contact us, comment on the show, and send us fan art, fiction and memes. They’re creative, witty and funny.

Luis Alandy: They even put English subtitles on the promo videos and teasers.

Chynna Ortaleza: Social media is exciting nowadays. Fans interact with us online.

Has the Movie and Television Review and Classification Board (MTRCB) called your attention yet?

LA: No, but I think the MTRCB should be more open.

RR: There are lot of things that I would be allowed to do…with a male partner, that I can’t do with Glaiza. Things that come naturally in a relationship. When I greet my boyfriend, I usually kiss him on the cheek or lips. Glaiza and I can’t do that in the show. But I like the MTRCB because it keeps our young people safe. However, rules can be limiting for actors.

Do you think the audience is ready for those scenes?

CO: We’re ready. We’re an artistic country.

Are there specific rules on what you can and can’t do onscreen?

RR: I can’t be in bed with Glaiza at the same time, even when fully clothed. It’s a given that we can’t kiss on the lips. We can kiss each other’s hands or cheeks, but it depends on the context. If you’re doing it as if you’re lovers, it’s a no. But if it’s something casual, then that’s OK.

Do these limitations challenge you as actors?

RR: We have to make things look as realistic as possible. We do a lot of intense staring in the show!

What’s it like being surrounded by all these women, Luis?

LA: I know my place in the show. This is more about the women…But I will have my own moment. The dynamic is also unique. Normally, I would confront another guy. But this time my rival is a girl. I’m seething, but I can’t physically hurt the third party because she’s a girl.

CO: What’s nice about how (head writer) Suzette Doctolero crafted the show is that everyone has a specific arc…It’s not solely focused on the love story.

Some fans say that your acting is “too natural,” Chynna?

CO: Yes, I get that a lot. What do they want me to say? (Laughs) They also tell me that I look better as a boy.

LA: Chynna is really pushing herself as an actor, playing someone that’s completely different from her real self.

RR: It’s as if people are waiting for an admission from us that we’re going to jump to the other side of the fence! We get a lot of messages saying, “Please, let it be real!” or “Don’t lead us on.”

What have you learned about the lives of lesbians?

CO: How big the community is. An old coworker came up to me and congratulated me. I never knew that she was a lesbian. I never thought about her that way. I realized that society puts labels, but we’re all the same.

RR: Yeah, what differentiates a lesbian from a straight girl? Nothing.

What if your girlfriend leaves you for another girl in real life?

LA: You’ll just have to accept it. It happens.

Are you glad that GMA 7 is doing this show and that lesbians are being represented on television?

LA: I’m not saying it’s a first in Philippine entertainment, but it is a first on local television. It’s very brave of GMA 7.

CO: It’s not easy for a network to produce something that will surely garner mixed reactions from people. I’ve been talking to members of the lesbian community and they’re very happy. Some of them were quite jealous of the results of “My Husband’s Lover,” so they feel it’s about time that they are given a voice, too.

RR: Glaiza related to me that a woman just walked up to her, and introduced her companion, saying, “She’s my Jade.” It’s nice to have a show that represents different kinds of people. I’m proud that the station is brave enough, because we all know that in local show biz, it’s all about formula and playing it safe.

In the end, it’s a business, a lot of money is involved. So to come out with a show that is risky…that’s great.

What are the changes you want to see in society?

RR: I want people to…simply respect each other…For people to try to understand our differences. That’s my No. 1 hope. The show is here to promote the search for personal truth.

CO: To broaden people’s horizons and open their minds…We do have that responsibility as artists. At the end of the day, we should promote love and accept our differences.

LA: We’re pushing for equality…We want to push the message that the truth will set you free.

What attracted you to do the role?

RR: What really makes me do a project is when the character and I are very different. That means I will be challenged and learn more about myself.

To attain self-discovery, I think you have to challenge the things you believe in. And when I started playing Jade, that’s exactly how I felt.

What have you learned from doing the show?

RR: It gave me a better understanding of people in general. I never considered myself a judgmental person. But I’ve realized that we have a tendency to put people in a box when we don’t even know the real situation…So every day when I go to work, I tell myself that I really have to open myself up to the possibility that I could fall in love with another woman.

CO: I’ve learned that it’s OK to tap into our masculine side and be comfortable with it. I feel that it has made me a better person in the end. I used to say that I hated being a woman and that men don’t know how hard it is to be one. But now I’ve become more appreciative of who I am.

What else have you realized?

RR: Being a girl doesn’t mean you have to let the man take the role of defender (in a relationship). If there was one thing I learned, it’s that you don’t have to be a man to be a fierce protector, to be strong or to stand up for yourself and others. Being a girl doesn’t make me weak.

CO: The effect has been good because this series not only sharpens our craft, but it makes us look deeper into ourselves. I’m proud to say that I’ve learned a lot so far.

Do you think you can fall in love with a girl?

CO: I’m often asked if I’m scared that I’ll end up a lesbian because of the show. I’m like, “Why should I be?” If I’m directed toward that path, I should be brave enough to face it because there’s nothing the matter with it. I believe that if you’re meant to be there, you’re meant to be there.

RR: I don’t know if it could happen or not. I used to think that I know who I am and know what I like. But now, who knows?

Have you encountered bashers?

RR: One person called me immoral. But I think it’s worse to be so judgmental toward other people. I didn’t reply or defend myself. Everyone else did it for me.

CO: Some people criticize GMA 7 for casting straight people as lesbians. They are like, “Why don’t they just hire real lesbians for the job?” But we’re just playing roles.

RR: I wonder if Chinese people are mad that we aren’t really Chinese!

Here are some questions from our Twitter followers: Will the show be extended?

RR: It doesn’t matter to me if the show gets extended or not. The victory is that the show happened in the first place. There are a lot of shows that are extended for the sake of being extended. I’d rather this show go out with a bang. I’m after quality, not quantity.

LA: It would be a good idea to have a break between seasons. So that the production team could work on the story. While we actors will be given the chance to form a fresh perspective on things.

Have you and Glaiza become best friends? Do you have pet names for each other?

RR: We become closer with each taping day. She’s such a cool girl. Are we best friends? Probably not yet. But it could happen. Pet names? Sometimes we call each other “love-love.”

What is the most touching message you’ve received from fans?

RR: We get messages saying that they’ve become more comfortable with who they are…and with the idea of coming out to their family. It’s a beautiful thing.

Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think I’d be given the chance to do a show like this. It’s not all about entertainment or escapism. If I can leave the audience with a lasting impression, that would be a huge honor.

CO: Someone came up to me and started crying, and opened up about her own experiences. She said she admires the show’s perspective and thanked us for speaking up for them.

Do you miss your hair, Chynna?

CO: Sometimes, but I do like it this way. I’m a 1990s kid and a Winona Ryder fan. I can always grow it back after the show.

What do you do between takes?

CO: There are always good vibes on the set. We chat and play around. Sometimes I upload videos of us dancing…just being silly.

What’s it like being so guwapo (handsome), Chynna?

CO: It just comes naturally. But it’s OK, I just have to accept it! (Laughs)

What’s your message to the MTRCB?

CO: I really want a deputy card. Seriously, I just hope that they trust the entertainment industry the same way we trust them. I don’t think anyone wants to put out a series that would purposefully destroy the beliefs of our society.

RR: I’m not really sure how they look at us…But I think it’s a necessary entity to help guide and educate the people, especially since the media is so powerful…It should call people out when they do something wrong, not if it feels they’re about to do something wrong. We deal with love—not violence—in the show, and there are things that I find limiting as an artist. In the end, we just need to be more responsible.

southsxde-shibu  asked:

your gif sharpening tutorial helped allot..I have 1 question though ? how do i keep a dimension size of 500 and still keep my quality without having to reduce so much or delete important frames ?

I’m glad to hear that! ^o^/ 

Hmm, firstly, it’s best to download 720p or 1080p videos so you won’t lose too much quality. I use nyaa for that.

- Secondly, I’d use the Video Frames to Layers option:

- When a window shows up, choose the video you want to use to make your gif:

(I just started using this option, but I use these settings. Limiting to every 2 frames will help decrease the number of frames, so ultimately, there are less to no frames you’ll need to remove ^-^. You can try Every 3 Frames, but I think 2 is best)

- After that, just use the two black arrows at the beginning and end of the video timeline and pinpoint what part you want to make into a gif:

- Once you’ve done that, select OK, and now you should have a canvas with the frames you chose:

- Select those frames and click on the small icon with the downward arrow and lines and Copy Frames:

Make a new canvas of the size 500 x 500 px or whatever the height you want it at and click OK again. 

Once you have your canvas, have the timeline open. If you don’t have it at the bottom, go to Window > Timeline. Then choose the small squares icon at the bottom left corner of the timeline so you have Frames, and then click on the small folded paper icon to make more frames until you have as much as the frames you had in your other canvas:

Next, click on the small arrow and lines icon again, and Select All Frames, then Paste Frames:

Choose Paste Over Selection when a window pops up and also Link Added Layers. You should have all the frames on this canvas now. But, since it’s large, select all the layers of your gif in the Layers Panel and press Ctrl+T to resize it and fit it into the canvas:

After that, press Enter. Also, if you haven’t already, select all the frames again and change the duration of the frames to 0.1 sec and have the option Forever selected by clicking on the bar next to the timeline icon at the bottom left corner:

Now, you can add colouring to it, if you want to ^^. I usually just use a psd:

I usually just use @animeps for a lot of my psds, it has pretty much everything in there XD. But, yes, now, it’s time to save your gif. So go to File > Save for Web and now a window should come up:

I use Selective and Pattern for all of my gifs, as well as Transparency. This way my gifs generally turn out to be good quality :). Also, since the gif size increased to 1.5MB/2MB, you should be fine at being able to keep to the limit ^-^. But, just to make sure, I’d suggest keeping your frames to around 20-25 frames, though it can depend on the colouring you use as well. If you’re happy with all your settings, click Save

P.S. I didn’t sharpen my layers since the gif turned out fine, but you can use sharpening if you still feel like your layers are not sharpened enough by going to Filters > Sharpen > Smart Sharpen, and then use these settings for all your layers:

Okay, I hoped this helped in some way (I feel like I probably rambled - I’m sorry T_T), but honestly, sometimes, there will be times when you’ll just need to reduce the number of your frames, or that your gif will be a little grainy.