#find pad printer

[mariasont]

collagen crisis - A.H

skincare fixes a lot of things, but it won't stop you from spiraling over how much older aaron looks since he started dating you

pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader warnings: a little bit of angst with a happy ending, avoiding serious conversations, miscommunication, relationship anxiety, reader being dramatic, fluffy ending <3 wc: 2.4k request: here

You should have been happy. Just being here with him, sitting prettily on the couch, watching Aaron work from across the room.

Technically, this was spending time together. At least, in the most literal sense. But it didn’t feel like it. Not when he was hunched over his laptop at the coffee table, composing something far more critical than whatever little fantasy you were spinning — one where he’d finally look up, reach for you, and decide whatever he was doing could wait.

You let out a sigh, sinking even deeper into the cushions like they might swallow you whole and spare you from the absolute nightmare that was this week.

First, you overslept (horrifying), which meant skipping your morning makeup routine (soul-crushing). Then, the demon printer decided to sabotage you, jamming right when you needed to print Aaron’s meeting notes. And if all that wasn’t bad enough, some pointless, stupid, boring admin thing had you running around like a crazy person all week, like bureaucracy had personally conspired to keep you from your boyfriend.

After days of missing him, you were finally here, finally close… and he wasn’t even looking at you.

You propped your chin on your hand, eyes glued to him like he was the sun and you were some poor little flower desperate for light.

He was always fascinating — the most beautiful thing in any room, any world even. But clearly, he had other priorities.

“Aaron,” you purred, practically dripping his name in honey. “Are you mad at me?”

No response. No flick of an eye. You pouted, nose wrinkling in disbelief. That move had a 100% success rate, until now.

“Did you know stress ages you? You should really take a break before you get all wrinkly.”

A noncommittal hum. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, undeterred. “Stress literally destroys collagen. And collagen is really important, because it keeps everything tight and smooth. And did you know that working too much is the number one cause of frown lines?” You squinted. “Like, look at you right now — totally frowning.”

Nothing.

You sighed dramatically, rising from the couch, bare feet padding across the floor as you came to stand over him, arms crossing beneath your chest.

“You know,” you mused, tapping a finger against your chin, “I should start taking my theories to someone who appreciates them. Like Derek. He listens. Actually engages. And —” A pause. “ — he always says I have the prettiest skin. “

Aaron’s fingers paused. “Don’t even think about it.”

You clambered onto the coffee table, settling in right across from him, close enough that he had to look at you.

“I mean, if you’re too busy, I should explore my options, right? Maybe find a guy who —”

“I’m not ignoring you for fun,” he interrupted, rubbing his jaw. “I’m busy because I have to be. You know that.”

Your playful smile wavered, wilting under a sudden frost. He wasn’t just distracted. He wasn’t just busy. His brow was tight with strain, his jaw set in a profound way that told you this wasn’t about focus but stress. Exhaustion. He was drowning and you were whining about being left on the shore.

I’m not ignoring you for fun.

Right. No, this wasn’t a game. It wasn’t a ploy. He wasn’t looking past you to be cruel, he was looking past you because there were things more important than your vanity, deeper than your hunger for his attention. His burdens were real, the life-or-death kind, and here you were, pouting over the trivial. Over collagen. Over the absurd notion that Derek Morgan could actually take him from you.

Ugh. Guilt. The worst emotion. It was sticky and persistent, like mascara smudges that refused to budge no matter how hard you scrubbed. You swallowed, hands skating over your thighs as if you could rub it out, erase it, pretend you weren’t feeling it at all.

“Right,” you mumbled, forcing a small smile, even though it felt a little wobbly. “Sorry, baby. I know.”

His lips parted, but you didn’t allow him to turn this into something serious.

You leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before resting your hand against his jaw. His skin was warm, a little rough from the day’s stubble.

“You’re still, like, so handsome,” you murmured, thumb brushing over his cheekbone. “And I love you, obviously.” A breath. A softer smile. “So it’s not like I’d leave you for a younger man or anything.”

You meant for it to sound teasing. Light. But even you could hear the truth beneath it like a half-hidden bruise, the unspoken  I know I’m difficult, I know I’m exhausting, but please still love me anyway.

Then you hopped off the coffee table, cheeks toasty, heart fluttering in a way that didn’t feel entirely good. You took a step back, suddenly unsure of what to do with yourself.

You don’t even remember leaving.

One moment, you were in Aaron’s living room, pressing a kiss to his cheek, and the next, you were unlocking your home door, feeling too much and not enough all at once, like you’d been yanked out of a dream before it could end adequately.

It was fine. You were fine. 

You just needed to do your skincare routine — because skincare always made things better. It was science. The universal laws of serums and self-care. You’d scrub away the bad feelings, tone down the overthinking (literally — with toner), and slather on a fresh start in the form of overpriced moisturizer.

Because if you just focused on the cleaners, on the circular motions, on fixing something, maybe you wouldn’t feel so much like you needed him to come along and fix you.

You were being dramatic.

But still, you stared at yourself in the mirror, fingertips smoothing combinations into your skin, your thoughts hyper-focused on him.

His face, his worry lines, the little creases at his temples that did not exist before you came waltzing into his life in a cloud of perfume and poor decision-making. And the gray hairs. He didn’t have those before either.

You were like stress in human form, a walking, talking wrinkle-generator. And wasn’t that a fun little realization — that your presence was something his body wore, that your love had a terrible side effect.

And okay, yes, you loved the way he looked. He was the hottest man you’d ever seen, full stop, end of discussion. He wore stress the other way men wore tailored suits. But that didn’t mean you wanted to be the reason for it. Weren’t you supposed to make his life better? Less stressful? More fun?

You sniffled, trying — really trying — to push the thought away, to shove it into some quiet little corner of your mind where it couldn’t hurt.

The knock at your door made you jump, a startled squeak slipping out. The serum bottle slipped from your fingers, clattering into the sink before rolling to a shaky stop.

Oh. Oh, no.

This was it. You knew this was going to happen eventually. Of course you were going to be a victim of some random, senseless crime, because you were too pretty to be left unattended. They always went for the pretty ones first. Statistically. Probably.

Grabbing the closest thing you could maybe pass as a weapon — your hairbrush, heavy-ish, but hardly lethal — you crept toward the door. 

You pressed up on your toes to check the peephole — Aaron had very sternly instructed you never to open the door without looking first — and oh. It was him. You let out a massive breath, forehead knocking lightly against the door as you deflated.

You unlocked it quickly, yanking it open.

“Oh my gosh, Aaron, do you want to give me a heart attack?” you gasped, shoving the hairbrush into his chest with all the righteous indignation of someone personally victimized by his existence. “I was about to murder you.”

He caught it without effort, blinking down at the would-be weapon. “With this?”

You wrinkled your nose. “Okay, yes, I panicked. But let’s not pretend I wouldn’t have landed at least one good hit.”

He smiled like he almost agreed, but then it faded, replaced by something quieter. He shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Can I come in, sweetheart?”

“Oh! Yes, duh, sorry.” You spun on your heel, nearly tripping over your fuzzy slippers as you ushered him inside. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

His frowned. “Did you not see my texts?”

“My phone is charging.”

“So you just… disappeared, ignored your phone, and then nearly assaulted me with a hairbrush?”

You shut the door behind him. “Aren’t you so glad you’re dating me?”

“Immensely.”

His tone was dry, but the way he reached for you was anything but. He hooked his fingers into the belt loops of your robe, reeling you in, and suddenly you were pressed against him, chest to chest. 

“I seriously am glad I’m dating you.”-

Your stomach squeezed so tight it was borderline uncomfortable.

So you did what any reasonable person would do. You avoided it entirely.

“Well, obviously, I am a delight.”

Aaron’s finger brushed against your cheek, tucking a stray strand behind your ear with an almost cautious tenderness, like you were made of glass and one wrong move would have you slipping through his fingers.

Because he knew you. Knew how easily you could float away, lost in your own world, distracted by the new beautiful, fleeting thing. And he knew, just as easily, how you ran when something felt too real.

So he was careful. Always careful.

“You are a delight,” he murmured, sure as ever. 

You blinked up at him, lips parting before you scoffed, shaking your head. “Ugh, boring. Teasing isn’t fun when you just agree with me.”

“I’m not teasing,” he said, lips twitching. Then, softer, sneaking the words past your defenses, “I need you to understand how much I love you. You are the single most important thing in my life.”

Flattening your hands over his chest, you let out a totally normal, not at all panicked giggle. “Gosh, you’re so sincere,” you blurted. “Do you… practice this?”

His brow arched. “Do you practice avoiding serious conversations?”

“Why do we have to have a serious conversation right now? Can’t we just, like, make out instead?”

His eyes track downward, to your lips. You see the moment he hesitates, a war playing out in the slight twitch of his fingers, the way his throat bobs when he swallows. For a moment, you think he might actually do it — lean in, forget whatever moral battle he’s fighting, and take you up on the offer. But then, his jaw tightens, and with a slow exhale, he shakes his head.

“Because I was an ass earlier,” he mutters, raking a hand through his hair like he’s punishing himself for even considering otherwise.

“I knew you were going to say that.”

“Well,” he murmured, “if you knew it, then maybe you should let me say it properly.”

You loop your arms around his neck, pulling him just a little closer, brushing your nose against his like it’s instinct.

“You weren’t being an ass, Aaron. You were just being a responsible, busy adult, unlike me who was apparently having a full-blow crisis over not being the center of your universe for two whole hours.”

Aaron signs, thumb stroking a slow line against your back.

“You might’ve been a little dramatic about it,” he concedes with a teasing smile, “but I also knew you had a rough week.” His lips press into a thin line, self-reproach creeping into his voice. “You never complain, so I didn’t expect you to say anything. But I should’ve seen it. I did see it — I just got caught up.” His voice lowers. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to beg me to look at you.”

“Still doesn’t excuse me being, like, a giant problem to your blood pressure. I mean, I basically force you to love me, and I’m sure that’s exhausting.” You flash him a bright, overcompensating grin, but his brow furrows, unimpressed.

Aaron’s hands slip from your waist to cup your face, tilting your chin up so you can’t look anywhere but him.

“Do you honestly think you’re making this difficult for me?” he asks, incredulous. “Loving you isn’t something I have to convince myself to do.”

His lips press together again. “I love you because I couldn’t stop if I tried. Because it’s the easiest, most natural thing I’ve ever done.” A small breath of laughter leaves him. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Loving you isn’t exhausting, honey — it’s the only thing that isn’t.”

Your eyes burn, emotion bubbling up faster than you can stop, and you let out a watery laugh. 

You wish you could take it as easily as he gives it. You wish you could believe it the way he does. But Aaron, steady and certain, loves you like it's gravity instead of a fragile thing that could slip through your fingers if you hold it wrong.

You love him. You love him with something wild, something you could never fully put into words, no matter how many times you said the three words to him.

And maybe that's okay. Maybe you don't need words, because he's already looking at you like he knows. He's felt your love in every touch, every breath, every time you make his life louder and messier.

Maybe that's why your fingers are trembling again.

Because this, this love, this life, this man, is the closest thing to real magic you've ever known.

“That might be the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” you whisper, tracing your nails over his neck.

Aaron tilts his head, brow furrowing slightly like he hates the thought that this is some grand declaration instead of something you should have always known.

"Then let me say it more often."

Your lips smush together, trying so hard not to smile, not to let him know how much that gets to you.

And, well. You can't have him knowing he's winning, so you tilt your head, pursing your lips, pretending to consider something much more important than the way your heart is currently spiraling out of control.

"Well, if you really love me that much..." You tap your chin, faux-thoughtful. "I feel like the next logical step would be a truly earth-shattering makeout session."

Aaron groans — part exasperation, part fondness — but then grabs you, kissing you hard enough that you laugh into his mouth.

💌 masterlist taglist has been disbanded! if you want to get updates about my writings follow and turn notifications on for my account strictly for reblogging my works! @mariasreblogs

[pseudowho]

The Stairwell

(help me find the Higuruma artist in the banner, for crediting and thanks/permission!)

A "fuck around and find out" incident with Higuruma Hiromi, as you tease him relentlessly during the workday.

Warnings: No surprises to spoil, but 18+, MDNI as always

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It's early in the afternoon when you decide to send Higuruma a dirty text while in the office together. Your co-workers and clients rattle around you. Papers rustle, printers whirr, and you know Hiromi is working to a deadline.

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You'd been deliberately teasing him since you woke up. You had set the alarm clock just a little too late. You stretched languidly against him in bed, pressing yourself back against his crotch, faux-innocent, before jumping from bed as his hands began to ghost over your hips. You kept the bathroom door open while you showered in a hurry, the soap suds in turn clouding and unclouding your nipples as they rolled down over your curves. Hiromi passed you your coffee; you received it, grateful, in his favourite lingerie set. You kissed him just a bit too softly behind the ear, a thrill running through you as he whimpered, hooded eyes fluttering closed as he leaned back into your lips.

"We're late! Come on, Hiro," you called, padding to the door, pulling your heels on, satisfied as Hiromi grabbed the car keys (tie a little wonky, shirt tucked poorly, cheeks pink, shoulders tense-- check, check, check, check).

His hands were white-knuckled as he drove, heavy brows furrowed; you thanked him for driving, with a hand on his thigh, a kiss on his jaw. You got out; Hiromi took a moment to press his forehead against the steering wheel, and readjust his rigid cock against his thigh with a low groan.

Hiromi sat in his office now, thoroughly ruffled. You watched him through the glass walls, the pen behind his ear being taken off and repeatedly clicked as he tried to focus on case notes. You pulled out your phone, thought for a moment with fingers hovering over the screen, and typed. Done. Sent.

Hiromi glanced to his phone as it buzzed on the desk. You watched as he picked it up, and read it. His eyebrows shot up, mouth dropping open, and his hands fumbled, dropping the phone like a hot coal. You ducked down behind the clouded partition, as he leapt to his feet, staring, furiously blushing as he searched for you. He smiled apologetically to a passing secretary who jumped in alarm at his predatory manner.

You laughed to yourself, giggling and wiping tears from your eyes, co-workers giving you funny looks as you crouch-walked away behind the partition. You spent the rest of the afternoon grinning to yourself, knowing Hiromi was too busy to visit you.

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Meet you at the car.

You texted Hiromi as soon as the clock struck six, grabbing your things and scooting down the corridor. Your co-workers packed up around you, chatting weekend plans, lingering, anyone want to go for drinks?

As you approached the door to the stairwell, you felt eyes burn through the back of your head, prickles rising on the back of your neck as the presence got closer and closer footsteps pounding as your hand pulled the door open slipping through the narrow gap which was gripped by a bigger, longer hand and you were followed through by Hiromi, who loomed over you, hot eyes hungry, moving to block your exit.

You squeaked and giggled, ducking under his arms as he tried to lift you by the waist, and ran down the stairs two at a time, laughing as he spat obscenities and chased you. You made it down two flights of stairs before he caught up to you, your heart pounding.

You were spun, lifted and pressed against the wall and you wrapped your legs around Hiromi's waist and hips. One of Hiromi's hand cupped your arse, the other wiggled a finger into his tie as his teeth gritted into a snarl.

"You, you, are an absolutely filthy little tart," Hiromi bit, jacking your skirt up around your waist, and yanking your damp panties to the side to rub two desperate fingers between your folds. The sudden intrusion had you squealing again, and you lied instantly to Hiromi-- "I didn't mean to--"

"I didn't mean to--" Hiromi mocked in a high-pitched trill, before slapping an open-mouthed kiss to your lips, "--bullshit, my dear, utter bullshit." Two long fingers pressed into your pussy and you pressed back into the wall with a long moan, letting Hiromi work inside you, humming to himself in thought.

"Hiromi-- people will see--" Hiromi scoffed at you, pulling his fingers free from your pussy, unzipping himself and hooking his heavy, weeping cock out, lining himself up immediately.

"Nobody here uses the fucking stairs--" Hiromi spat, wiping your arousal on himself as lubrication. He grinned at you, a wicked glint in his eyes, as you whined and moaned at his cockhead stroking over your clit. He pressed a long, deep kiss into you as he teased himself against your entrance.

"Let's consider all of your flirting today to be foreplay, hmm?" You opened your mouth to protest, before Hiromi slammed his cock into you, slapping a hand over your mouth as you shrieked, Hiromi laughing under his breath, drawing out into a keening whimper as he pulled out and pressed into your fluttering plush walls again.

Hiromi hooked his arms under your thighs, planting his feet hard against the floor as you went floppy, hands clawing at Hiromi's tie and shirt as he paused for a moment, adjusting before beginning a relentless slap of his hips against yours.

Hiromi's head dropped back with a sandy gasp as he fucked you deeply, his cock ramming against your cervix, wet squelches and Hiromi's frantic moans echoing around the stairwell while you babbled apologies to him. Hiromi laughed again, lost in the filthy, sinful relief of your wet heat.

"Oooh, I'm sorry I'm sorry--" Hiromi hooted to you, as you blushed at his ceaseless good-humoured mocking, "--tell it to the judge." Hiromi's chuckles tapered swiftly into hurried moans and whimpers again, feeling your pussy clench around him as your eyes rolled back at the incessant slam of his cock into you. You felt his pre-cum and yours trickling down your arse as he gripped your thighs with bruising force, his face contorted in divine bliss as he chased his orgasm.

You were limp in his grasp, one arm draped over his shoulder and the other tugging his tie, mascara running, lipstick smeared. You hovered on the edge of an orgasm until your hips slid down, Hiromi now rutting into you at a deeper angle, his cockhead rubbing deeply, feeling him in your belly. You reached down to stroke your own clit, Hiromi drinking you in with blown-pupilled eyes as you tumbled over the edge. Hiromi felt his balls clench as you pulled his tie again, feeling the tug like a hook behind his navel.

"Thorn in my-- hhaaaaah shit-- fucking side today-- dirty little flirt-- ahhhh fuck, 'm gonna cum--" Hiromi came with a strangled whine, fucking his seed slowly into you as it spattered against your walls, so much after a day of constant teasing. Hiromi bit into your neck, with short little moans as his cock twitched weakly inside you, his last spurts of cum dripping down you to soak your panties.

As Hiromi leaned back, his smile soft and goofy at you with post-nut ecstasy, you pulled him back by the tie as he giggled, hands pit-patting fondly against your bum as he rubbed his nose against yours, foreheads pressed together, dark eyes embering into you.

You both jumped as you heard a timid little voice from the doorway two flights of stairs up.

"Uhm...are you...are you guys done? It's just...the lift's not working so we've all been, uhm...waiting here."

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Tehehe, Higuruma ♥️🤭🧎‍♀️

[sits-bound]

Bound: I Was Late (You Were Early) / I'll Find You Again (I Always Do) by @dodgerkedavra

I made these for an exchange (one is for the author) and I'm really pleased with how they came out! It's a tete-beche, so it's two fics in one. The first fic, I Was Late (You Were Early) is from Harry's POV so the endpaper on that side is red. The second fic, I'll Find You Again (I Always Do) is from Draco's, so the endpaper on that side is, you guessed it, green. The fonts I used for the covers and throughout each fic are what I think their handwriting might look like. I mean, look, Harry's is going to be a bit of a scrawl, and Draco's is going to be impeccibly elegant, right?

The covers are made of cardstock that I printed the titles on with a laser printer, then foiled with toner foil. My little light pad was extremely helpful for lining everything up.

When I first started making these, I came up with a pretty standard design using bookcloth and HTV. But then I had a crisis of confidence and completely scrapped the idea and set the covers aside. I wanted my own copy of these fics, so I used one of those covers. It's not so bad, really.

The bookcloth was made from some decor weight fabric I had lying around that I thought fit the New Year's theme of the fics, and I layered the HTV so it would be readable (black was too stark but silver wasn't visible enough.)

[polycraftory]

Getting Started: Junk Journaling

So you want to get started with scrapbooking/junk journaling? This is a craft, like many others, that you can get started on with very little supplies! However, we'll get a little deeper into stuff as well for some additional tips and supplies that might be fun or helpful.

What You Absolutely Need

Scissors / Cutting Implements - If you can, buy a nicer pair of scissors for your own sanity, but any scissors will do starting out! Detail scissors specifically are really helpful. Exacto knives can also be helpful, but you'll also need a cutting mat if you don't already have one. This category is worth investing in because dull scissors are a nightmare.

Adhesive - ZipDry is designed for paper so it doesn't bleed through thin stuff and it dries quick and clear. Double sided tape rolls are also very helpful, especially with large areas or gluing a bunch of stuff quickly. This is an area worth investing in earlier! Thin paper and magazine paper will have bleed through with certain glues.

Notebook/Paper - Use what you have! If you, like me, have a million journals lying around, use that! As you get deeper in, you might find it helpful to specifically look for notebooks that lie flat when opened. You can also use sheets of art paper if you want to go more independent collage style rather than journaling. Watercolor paper/notebooks are nice because they are thicker, but you can use whatever.

Materials to Actually Cut/Glue/Use - Okay, here's where you really can do whatever you want forever and spend as little or as much as you want. You can cut up books and magazines you have on hand. If you have a printer, you can print stuff out! People sell really amazing curated mixed packs of materials (you can support some great shops on etsy doing very cool and niche stuff! If you are really on a budget, amazon sells some bulk packs as well).

Material Tip

If you don't have a husband that works in a mailroom (we are very lucky) and you don't have a lot of magazines on hand, try going to your local post office and dig through the recycling bin! A lot of people will throw out magazines/ads/catalogues there and you might find some gems. You can also get a free trial for some magazines and just cancel once they want to charge you money. Nic finds Vogue and GQ helpful for people. National Geographic can be helpful for backgrounds and animals.

Leveling up details below the cut!

Level Up

Slide Cutter - Make sure you get one with a replaceable blade! Super helpful for bulk cutting out big shapes.

"Okay, but I see people online with fancy stuff and I want to get in on that action!" you may say. Here is some fun stuff to play with!

If you see someone whose junk journaling content you like, you can also just reach out to them! A lot of people are happy to share links to the stuff they use and a lot of junk journalers online run their own shops/have affiliate links to the stuff they use!

Fun Junk Journaling Variety Packs - truly this is where a lot of people spend a lot of money because you can buy all sorts of fun niche packs depending on the vibe/focus you want to go with. You can also buy packs of quotes / letters / sayings. This can be helpful especially when doing character focused stuff. My wife really likes the packs from PengellyCrafts on etsy.

Washi Tape - People really like using washi tape, especially the transparent ones. These can be surprisingly expensive.

Transparent Stickers - These are fun because you can get a lot of detail and layering without intricate cutting. If you are careful with detail cutting you can cut the white border on normal stickers if you can't swing transparent ones.

Stamps - Like transparent stickers, this can add fun depth and layering, though with perhaps slightly less detail. The best part about stamps is that they are infinitely reusable and you can get all sorts of stamp pads. The downside is they are surprisingly expensive. You can even get stamps that help you make backgrounds like stars or wood texture. There are also "container" stamps like jars and bottles that you can put stuff in!

Embossing Powder - You can pair stamps with a glue stamp pad (or get glue markers) to use with embossing powder and a heat gun to create embossed details that add depth and texture. Make sure you are careful about what order you do things in when using heat!

Distress Ink (or Distress Oxide) & Blender/Diffuser - Make things look aged! This is a stamp pad you can use to make any paper or image look older than it is. Make sure you also get the little foam blender they also sell for application since it'll go on too thick if you try to use it directly on the paper.

Wax & Wax Seals - Wax can be fun to play with because it is both an adhesive and also adds dimension. Note: a lot of embossing or wax in a journal can make it hard to close a notebook.

Old Books - You can buy used books or use books that you don't want anymore for backgrounds to cut out words. Things like recipe books and encyclopedias can be especially helpful/vibe-y.

Fun Edges / Frames - You can get scrapbooking scissors or edge punches to add fun details and shapes to paper edge. It just depends on whether you like that look! Something like a simple round edge punch can be helpful.

Have Fun With It

Do you do other crafts, like painting or cricut? You can pair so many different crafts with junk journaling to make a cool multi-media piece. The most important thing to remember is to use what you have and have fun with it! Don't put off starting because you want all the bells and whistles or think you have to spend a bunch of money like the people who create junk journaling internet content! Create joyfully and lean into the chaos.

Please let us know if this guide was helpful and if you'd like a more specific buy list or tutorials on anything! We are here to help make crafting more accessible <3 You got this! Go junk journal!

If you want to see Nic's junk journaling, we are going to queue some in the next few days. Check our pinned post to find our junk journaling tag for inspiration!

[kentocalls]

Bokuto Kōtarō | always pg13, established relationship, comfort happy belated birthday lovely friend @jadedjane 🍰

Summary: A snippet of a softer morning with Bokuto. Please do not attempt Bokuto's jumping at home.

🦉: [1 Image Sent] (Menu) 🦉: Can I PLEAsE bring EVERY appetizer!! 🦉: You would have lunch for days 🦉: Thai tea here SUCKS 🦉: Canceling that from my order 🦉: Iwa is talking about taxes. 🦉: I paid mine …I think 🦉: Did you get home alright? 🦉: So if I came home with no eyebrows

  🥡

It’s the same room, the same cool tile that greets you time after time when energy escapes you. Your phone is buzzing somewhere in the dark void of your apartment. You don’t move, guilt summoning itself from the ground and restraining all your limbs. It was a close call today.  You didn’t sleep well, you skipped that morning shower, you didn’t take the detour to find another coffee shop when yours was closed.  Your eyes had slipped close for a second, a second and that was enough to send the whole day spiraling. The printer stopped working, the storage room key was lost, countless tiny moments that chipped away at your spirit. It’s probably selfish, what you’re doing now too. Turning away from the world. Not a single light turned on, not a single attempt to change your work clothes and put on soft pajamas. You don’t deserve it, your brain supplies. You don’t deserve the softness of nice clothing, a bed or light. Instantly, Kōtarō’s voice breaks through the abyss, “Hey hey hey, can you NOT be mean to my favorite person?” Is exactly what he’d say, to get you out of this funk. You could call him, you should call him. He’d run over in a heartbeat. And yet, you stifle that urge. Bargain with yourself,  it’s a mood, it’s temporary. Still, this sadness grows vines that wrap around you tight.  Everything feels heavy, even the weight of your eyelids. So you let your eyes clothes, if there’s dust mites burrowing into your hair so be it. You can’t be bothered.  Maybe enough of them will take over, claim your body as theirs and you’ll escape the conundrum of a commute, work, cooking and cleaning and adulting. 

All of it.  Later. Tomorrow. Whatever.

  🥡

🦉: [1 Image sent] (a grinning Bokuto & Hinata) 🦉: eyebrows SAFE 🦉: Speaking of 🦉: Location says you’re home 🦉: Whatcha doing?

🦉: Are you watching John Tangerine without me? 🦉: That’s OUR show 🦉: Wait, do you ALWAYS watch it without me first? 🦉: Is that how you know what happens?

🦉: Sunshine?

4 missed calls

🥡

You can’t tell how long it’s been, of you spacing out or falling asleep. Is there a difference?  Your bones don’t ache as much as you thought, the floor suddenly shifted into….soft padding?  Wait a minute, this is your comforter.  And that warmth on your back? That is the body of none other than Bokuto Kōtarō, that little wetness on your shoulder? His drool. You move to turn away but his hands sense your conscious state and pull you flat against him, turning both of you so you’re now his personal heater. “K…Kōtarō….we’re…the floor…” “But I don’t wanna …five more minutes… Sunshine don’t make me–”  a grumble and a turn, his arms tighten and he rolls again until your head smacks the non-pillowed floor. You yelp, he startles awake,a blink, then two, and his giant grin. “Good mornin–why, why the frown?”  thumbs at the pout you’ve adorned. “Where do we normally sleep, Kōtarō?” “On the bed.” he nuzzles at your neck, the scent calming the previous adrenaline down.”Why is that?” “So our backs don’t hurt.” his hands slide up and down the side of your body, oh your clever boy, trying to distract you is he?  “And are we on a bed?” “It’s NOT my fault, you looked so cute, and I thought we could have a sleepover–” “We do, every night.” “I KNOW but, wait…”  He gets up abruptly, rearranges the blankets so you’re covered, a stern, “Do not move.”  before his heavy steps pad into the kitchen. There’s the familiar sound of take out being opened and plated, your microwave beeping and Kōtarō humming along. You can picture him wiggling his butt every so slightly at the 5 second countdown.    Greasy, heavy, deliciousness fills the room as he brings over the reheated plates and spoons. “I need to wash my face–” “I did, I used the wipes, like you showed me, even did the–” he pats his face four times, “that you do after cleaning.” Sweet, your Kōtarō is so sweet.  “So this dish was the tastiest of the bunch. We should start our day with this, and then…” one would think Kōtarō is being bullish. Not pointing out the state of your being, still in work clothes, still a little sad, still a little dazed, defeat trying to pull you back down into a lull–but he’s your Kōtarō.  Treating you the same regardless of the heavy rain that pours in your heart. “Sunshine?”  Graceful athlete, moves the plates up and away as you crowd into his form, surely, his chest has more than enough room for you. Burrow in, hide yourself in his ribs, Bokuto’s arms come to close around you.  Spinning slightly, so he’s supported by the coffee table, hands rubbing up and down your back. He knows, without you saying, yesterday sucked.  And still, you’re his brave brave brave precious sun, who smiled bright, telling him to go to the reunion. That you were simply tired, nothing sleep wouldn’t cure. But nothing even comes close, does it?  To the hugs he gives.  A little too strong, the squeeze never letting up, the scent of his body wash mixed with your shampoo, the way his heart beats proudly in his chest.  This s the place you’ve gotten used to for relief, for ease, for soothing and…”I’m not hungry—” “One bite…” your Kōtarō knows tender, softens his voice in a way that melts away any protest, you take the bite.  He hums at the noise you let out, eyes going bright, another spoonful ready, raised at your lips. “You said one.” “And this is one too–”  Just like that, he makes sure you’re fed, held safe in his arms, watching the way your expression changes with each new dish. He really did bring back every appetizer and despite sleep lingering in his eyes, plated said appetizers carefully so they don’t touch.  

“H…how was the reunion?”   He could talk about caterpillars and you’d listen, watch his face shift and the tone of his voice fluctuate as he parades over the chaotic events.   Enough so that you can slip free from his arms, but not from him. Bokuto follows, of course. Like an owl flies to the moon, he flies close to your light, eager to bask in your comments. Ever so protective of him after all, what does that Kuroo get by flustering your Kōtarō huh? 

🥡

You both make quick work of the morning hygiene routine, Kōtarō insisting today is a pajama day because he hasn’t let go of the idea of a sleepover. Yes it’s the weekend and yes the weather may be nice but it doesn’t compare to the half of you. He wants to indulge, give that playful side of you reason to come out and play. Watches as you indulge in the tiny bit of skin care you have, immediately sitting on the counter, half hanging off, face right into yours, “Me too, Me too.”   

His hair always clings to water, it drips down onto the floor, so you grab a towel, he leans further down, “You’re going to hurt your neck pretty boy, don’t do that.” It’s okay if you have to stand on your tiptoes to help dry his hair.  It’s a rare treat, Kōtarō with his hair down, soft, fluffy, malleable without the gels and hairspray.  Your hand tangles a bit when you check for dryness, “We both need haircuts…” Another thing you’ve failed to do.  

A sigh escapes as Bokuto Kōtarō puts his arms around your hips and pulls you forward, oh so serious, “Why …..” pulls you into a hug, shakes both of you from side to side a little, “no being mean to my favorite person.”  

Oh, you adore Kōtarō, the one who doesn’t limit his love. Moderation? What use is it when he knows how the sun shines in your eyes? How your laugh could light the night sky?  Why should he hold back?  In the home both of you have made, in the mischief you two share?  Hands tracing infinity signs into your skin, maybe if he does this enough a spell will be cast and you’ll stay with him forever and ever. “Hmm, not using the lotion then huh?”  He lifts his head up, a pout already forming, “AKAASHI took it from me! Said his girlfriend would appreciate it more than I do!”  “How rude!” “Isn’t it!” But he’s kinda secretly happy, because now your hands are tracing lotion over his, working it into the calloused palms and his long fingers. Ever so tender, his eyes watching your face full of adoration  “You’re so nice to me.”   

“Because you’re nice to me.” 

He tries, he really really tries. Kōtarō admits it’s taken him a while to slow down, ease out of his incessant drive to do and fix and achieve. You’ve softened him up in all the right ways, helped him learn more and more about social cues. And really, it’s a testament to your teaching and his learning, that he asks, “How…are you doing?...you missed my calls.” “Better, since…you’re here.”   He’s so in love, four words and he’s left speechless, breathless. One hand of yours comes to close his mouth as you drift back to the delicious takeout.

🥡

You do talk to him, about the heaviness, he’d package it all in a luggage and ship it to hell if he could. Takes it upon himself to look up cruise tickets because that's the legal way to ship a human to Antarctica, hell on Earth for someone who hates the cold. “You cannot do that to the penguins, no one would be around my supervisor, Kōtarō.” “REALLY? Because John Tangerine can ship his enemies there? And I’m not allowed to send yours?” He huffs, crosses his arms, indignant.

“Is it because he’s mysterious?”    Why have you, and all your friends, fallen for this actor John Tangerine? He’s heard the way you coo at your phone, the way your friends go to his fanmeets.  He’s …some dude, some guy.  Handsome, sure.  Heck, Kōtarō will admit, John Tangerine has that charisma to him too but…but…”Tell ME. What’s so great about him anyways?”  What does John Tangerine have that Kōtarō doesn’t?  “Is it his hair?”

“You don’t need to be John Tangerine. I like you as you are.” Yeah but it’s John Tangerine movies you watch repeatedly. But you’re giggling and slightly blushing at a cheesy joke John is making on screen.  “Oh, this is the best part, Kōtarō, did you know John practiced this jump…”  Kōtarō does know, you only tell him every time you watch this movie. But he listens anyways, eyes glued to your face, your lips, that happy smile and nose scrunch when John lands on the taxi roof, he has it all memorized already and still it’d never be enough.  It’s probably selfish, what he’s doing right now. Rewinds the scene because you were “talking too loud…” when really, really he wants to see you make those faces again.  Because you always, unconsciously, turn to Kōtarō �� cling at his arm and squeeze, like you’re both in on the biggest secret, *gasp* John is the spy! There’s  a list of chores to be done, trash to be taken out, bills to be paid, adulting creeping around the bend and Kōtarō sweeps you into his arms, “I could probably land that jump too!” “Kōtarō, no.” “Kōtarō, yes.” A giggle, moving of furniture, a badly mimicked scenario for Bokuto Kōtarō to recreate the famous John Tangerine jump.   

He does this jump, again and again, until your bellies hurt from laughing, until you fall to the floor clutching your stomachs and even he makes another attempt to jump. Because your laugh is what blocks out the rest of the world, the daunting pressure of being a professional athlete, the fact his last tweet had a glaring typo, that he really wanted you to be greedy and tell him to come home last night. But that’s okay, he’ll keep doing this until all of that doubt clears. That’s his in it for life, with you. 

In the future, when you do eventually call, he wants you to know without a doubt; he’ll drop everything and run right over.  Sure, John Tangerine can cross fences like it’s nothing and woo the ladies and is a professional spy but does John Tangerine have the most precious sunshine holding him this close?

Tracing the softest hands over his face? John Tangerine will never ever know. 

Because you? 

You are Kōtarō’s later, tomorrow, whenever, always. 

[chromatophorium]

I finished making new gear for a hypothetical Agent 4 storymode!

(Text on the back of the hypothetical box): As the head of security of Project Memverse, Agent 4 has been tasked to track down the Octolings still on the loose in the Deepsea Metro! Together with a recently reformed C.Q. Cumber, they will have to explore behind the scenes of Kamabo Co. to find and secure the victims of sanitization!

Using the Caught Shot, Agent 4 will have to subdue the Octolings that are still under Tartar's hostile programing! After that, they will have to transport their quarry to the goal using Containment Tank! Said goal is the Memverse entry room, housed in a modified train car. The SeaCURE.ity gear set will help them stand up against the immense pressure; both of the responsibility on their shoulders and the offensive launched against them by what remains of Kamabo Co! And of course the literal pressure, as they travel deeper and deeper into unknown waters...

(design notes under the cut)

C.Q. Cumber: The last two story modes have had a companion I thought it would be cool to use C.Q. Cumber! (Did you know it’s not just one individual?) C.Q. is one of the only characters with dialogue not to return in Splatoon 3, and he looks throwable! So, l would maybe make him be a portable bounce-pad, who returns to you when you jump on him. You could also make him the thing used for Broken-Armor Jump, if that’s a mechanic you’d want to return. He is wearing the hat from a plush zapfish!

Containment Tank: Based on a coffee machine, since the Spawners in Splatoon 3 are based on expresso machines! The jug that contains the octoling “ghost” is also based on a snow globe, since Octavio was contained by one in Splatoon 1 and 2!

Caught Shot: Based on a retro coffee grinder, to fit in with the tank’s theme! (Like the Splatoon 3 Hero Shot was based on a 3D printer (the fully upgraded one has a filament reel) and there were 3D printed monuments in Alterna.) The name is a play on their task, catching octolings, and hotshot, since Agent 4 is rumored to be the strongest in the squidbreak splatoon, and it's apparently also the name of an alcoholic coffee drink (I don't drink coffee or alchohol, so I didn't know that). Also following the naming convention of single-player shooters; Hero Shot, Octo Shot and Order Shot.

Earmuggs: Did you know the handles of mugs are called ears? Now you do! I included a cup-handle motif by the ears, and the springy thing is inspired by the edge of coffee presses.

Baristanorak: This is based of a coffee barista look, with an apron! The reflectors on the green part is meant to mimic the straps. I also kept the collar the same as Agent 4's canon outfit, since I think it's a big part of why I like their design. The wrist sweatbands are there to tie into the texture of the socks, and cuz I thought It gives the outfit a more recognizable silhouette.

Step-it-cups: They're actually just Luminous Delta Straps with the branding removed, don't tell anyone! Well, I guess it is keeping in tradition, since Agent 4's canon jacket is super similar to the Olive Ski Jacket, which was present in Splat 1 (and my favorite gear in that game).

[shizzyrizzylol]

Here's a short scenario about Shizzy and the Doughman that I can only write about rnn. Pt.1

Shizzy seemed to be wandering around the Safe Haven II, groups of toys following her around as she wandered. She looked down at them with a faint smile as they looked up at her when they stopped. "Where are we going, Shizzy?" they asked, always looking cheerful, especially now since they know they are safe under Doey and Shizzy's watch. "Ah, nowhere in particular kids, I'm just admiring all the hard work Doey and I put in ta keep dis place safe fer y'all." she replied simply, looking down at the Smiling Critters that nodded along after her words.

"None of the bad people can reach us here, right?" asked one of them. "Oh no, they'd have to go through Doey, Kissy Missy, and worst of all, ME!" she said with a chuckle afterward. "I'm the scariest monster here!" They toys looked at her skeptically before giggling along after her. Shizzy then began to walk around again, finding her way towards Doey, who was reading one of her books to themselves. The toys seemingly swarmed the both of them as Shizzy sat down next to Doey. "Sorry for the army. They just wanted to walk with me." apologized Shizzy, as Doey gave her a warm look, "It's okay, they do this to me as well." he sighed cheerfully.

The critters all got comfortable around both Shizzy and Doey, Kissy Missy eventually joining everyone. "Hey Kissy! Ya doing okay?" Shizzy asked as she only replied with a couple of nods and sat next to Shizzy, resting the side of her face on Shizzy's head. "I'm more than glad that you're okay, Kissy." Doey said warmly as they rested their hand on Kissy's healed arm. "Ditto." Shizzy replied simply, appreciating Kissy's affection. "So you were reading another one of my books, Doey?" Shizzy asked. "Hm? Oh! Oh yeah! We've really come to like reading this one the most Shizzy. Thank you for writing these books for all of us." Doey said with a cheerful smile. "No problem, boys." Shizzy said.

As Kissy and the other critters were falling asleep around them, this was normally the time where Shizzy and Doey would talk about their next excoursion in the lower levels. "Okay, so what do you think we need the most of?" Doey asked, looking at Shizzy. "So, we need more printer paper, fabric, pickaxes, maybe pens, shovels, and scissors." Shizzy reported, making sure that she was writing down the whole list of items. "Okay, that seems easy enough." Doey said, watching Shizzy write down the list. One of the critters overheard Shizzy and Doey's conversation and spoke up a bit, catching their attention. "Hey, since you guys are both thinking about going down here, do you think you could find a purple blanket with pink stars on it? I lost it when I was taken from the orphanage." said the toy, looking up at Shizzy and Doey. "We'll see what we can do, little lady." said Shizzy as Doey nodded. "Thank you, guys." said the toy as she laid back down to sleep.

Every time before they leave, they let Kissy know what was going on so she can protect the others while they are away. Shizzy gently wakes her up by cooing a gentle 'hey'. "We have to go and get more supplies, Doey and I will be back soon enough." "Yeah, we'll try to be back here as soon as possible, Kissy." Doey confirmed as Kissy nodded her head once more. Kissy watched as both Doey and Shizzy got ready to go to the lower levels.

Shizzy adorned a miner hat with a flashlight atop of it along with a padded vest that went up to her arms to protect her from vicious bites or claws, her gloves, steel toe boots and a makeshift sword made out of a sharpened piece of steel and a wooden chair leg. Doey absorbed the grab pack due to them being conductive with electricity and not slowing Shizzy down. Once they were finished suiting up, they both got into the elevator that is in a metal cage in the middle of the Safe Haven. There was a whole panel of buttons to choose from that could take you to any floor in the factory. Shizzy chose floor 6K and down they went.

The floors seemed to pass by quickly as the floor they chose was approaching soon enough. A quiet ding rang out as they opened the cage protecting the elevator and stepped out onto the dilapidated hallway before them. The hallway looked to be covered in scratches and peeling wallpaper. Possibly where Catnap had once roamed a few days ago before the Prototype had killed him. This was the level closest to the orphanage. "Okay, so Crafty said she needed her purple blanket with pink stars on it, right?" Doey asked as they looked at Shizzy. "Yes. I made sure that I put it on the list." Shizzy replied, holding up the small list of items they written down earlier.

They made it through the main hallway with little to no issues, only the occasional critter to fight off, but nothing all too serious. Once they made it to the orphanage, Shizzy took in how much of a mess it is now than when she first came in. "Damn, do I normally make dis much of a mess?" Shizzy asked as Doey gave her a shrug whilst looking away. "C'mon, I couldn't have made dis much of a mess." Shizzy complained as she walked into the main area. "I mean- you did destroy the first Safe Haven." Doey said nervously. "C'mon ya know Poppy was da mastermind in allat." Shizzy said as she didn't want to take all of the credit for the incident. Doey gave her a stern look before sighing and looking away once again.

[jpitha]

Between the Black and Grey 56

First / Previous / Next

Gord had to admit that things were easier when they were in hiding.

Now that Home was in Sol - they had settled on parking it in the L2 point of the Earth-Moon group - they were busy. Gord was old enough to have been around for more than a few peaks and valleys of AI enthusiasm and acceptance. These things came and went, as hard as he and the others worked to make them permanent, and it really did start to feel like they were on another upswing.

"You feel it too, don't you, Chloe." Gord said, after climbing out of the pool. Chloe sat on a lounge chair in the pool room, reading a pad while Gord swam. She long ago knew better than to question why Gord did what he did, even if she thought it was silly he'd regularly swim.

Chloe closed her pad and regarded Gord as he toweled off. "Yes, I think relations may be on an upswing. It feels like how things were right after the war. Everyone wants to concentrate on rebuilding, and conveniently forget what they did to us before." She pursed her lips rightly, making a thin line. "We're accepted when we're useful."

"Come on Chloe, it's more than that. Maybe they're finally seeing beyond their own noses. Maybe they're seeing that together we are more than apart." Gord tossed the wet towel into the basket and ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm going to change, we have the meeting with the Empress in an hour."

Chloe sat in the pool room for another minute after Gord left, regarding the flat water. She sighed, stood up and left.

****

Zhe stalked the corridors of the ship, restless. The oddness of being the only biological being on the ship had long passed and now Zhe quite enjoyed being able to go where she wanted when she wanted. She found that when she needed to think she'd walk all around the ship. She'd start at her cabin, and work her way through the whole ship, checking on things and inspecting. Ever since the attack though, the matter printers and the hold were off limits. The doors were locked and Zhe wasn't able to open them with a touch like the others. She had thought about speaking to Northern about it, but decided against it.

Northern didn't seem like herself ever since she became her old ship again. She had this... edge she didn't have when she was in a body or when she was another ship. They hadn't really talked about things other than ship related items since the attack. Zhe thought about striking up a conversation with her, but never could think of what to say that wouldn't start an argument.

A month and a half after the attack, and two weeks after Northern had throttled down to a more comfortable 1 gee, Zhe was in the kitchen making a cup of tea. She was too young to had really gotten into the whole Chamomile craze that swept K'laxi space a while back, but she had to admit, the human tea was pretty good. While she was drinking the tea and wondering about what was next for them, she felt the gravity twitch. There was a feeling of a ship on the ocean, bobbing up and down, and then everything was canted slightly, as if the whole ship was leaning.

"Northern? What's going on? Why is the gravity odd?" Zhe held onto her tea mug tightly, holding it at an angle relative to the floor to keep it from spilling.

"Oh! Zhe! I'm sorry, I kind of forgot you were here." There was a sickening feeling of motion, and then the floor was the floor again. "I had rerouted power from grav to the printers. I figured it wasn't being used, but thanks for reminding me you're still here."

"What are you doing? Why do you need all that energy?" Zhe said, putting her tea down now that the gravity was corrected.

"Oh, just printing more warheads. I wanted to get them done quickly."

"Why? You're not planning on another attack are you? It's only been a month since the first one, you can't expect the Empire to retaliate that quickly."

"it's been a month and a half, Zhe. That's more than enough time for Fen to find us."

"I don't know, Northern. Have you picked up a beacon? What does the news say?"

"We're near Parvati now, so the easiest beacons to get are Parvatian news. There are some pieces about the attack, but the general consensus seems to be that this is a Sol thing for Sol people."

"Isn't Parvati part of the human empire?"

"Technically yes, same with Meíhuà, but they both were independent from Sol for so long that they developed their own culture and traditions. They don't really think of Sol as home, or the source of their government."

Zhe couldn't wait anymore. She had been thinking about it ever since they came out of high thrust. "Northern?"

"Yes, Zhe?"

"Can you take me home to the Heap?"

"What? Why, Zhe? Don't you want to find Fen?"

"I do Northern, you know that. I want to find her more than anything. I want to make sure she's all right, I want to get her somewhere safe. But, it..." She stopped and took a breath. "It seems like you're not trying to find her, Northern. It seems like you're trying to start... or restart some ancient war. Those relativistic impactors on Luna and the shipyard, that was too much. We didn't need to do that. How many innocent people did we kill? And now you're making more?

"There are no innocents, Zhe!" Northern's venom caused Zhe to jump slightly. "Do you know what the humans did to us? Gord told you, but he kept it high level. I was there. I saw my friends die, Zhe. Killed by the Empire. Chased down, attacked, tricked. Gord saved as many as he could by taking memory dumps, and some like me were able to get bodies and hide, but there are so many who didn't. So many who were alive for hundreds or even thousands of years and just... killed."

Zhe didn't say anything.

"I don't talk about my past much Zhe, and I appreciate you and Fen not prying. Much of my past is... painful. I...this ship, this body was a prototype starliner, but that's not all it was. I was a warship first and foremost. I was built by Parvati to defend itself against New Wellington. Did you know that the colonies built AIs too? It wasn't just Earth and Sol. Sure, they built a lot of them, but the process wasn't secret - as much as Gord thinks it should have been. I was built and trained by Parvati to protect my home and this ship was my first and best body. The histories talk about how we were the aggressors, how we used the relativistic impactors against New Wellington, how we destroyed the colony. People conveniently forget that New Wellington struck first. How they linked in with brand new wormhole generators barely wired into their frigates and cargo ships and attacked our orbitals and stations. How they even attempted an orbital bombardment of Touchdown City. We had no way to prepare for their attack, we were used to watching for the lights of braking thrust. Zhe, thousands died in the initial attacks. The Parvati AI Research Center and Creche, my home, was completely obliterated. All the humans that raised me, to help me grow and be a person - gone in an instant."

"Oh Northern, I had no idea." Zhe couldn't think of anything else to say.

"No, you didn't. But that's not your fault. I'm telling you this now so that you can have some insight into my decision making process. The Empire isn't new, what they want isn't new. Their methods aren't new. I know how to deal with people like that. They deserve nothing else but a strong, decisive strike. If you hit hard, and you hit fast, you can overwhelm them, and bring them to the table."

"But, Northern, Sol doesn't know it was us. We didn't announce it, we didn't leave any calling cards."

"That's true Zhe, we didn't. But this time. This time we will. Check your pad."

Zhe looked down at her pad, signals were pinging them, ships were linking in. More than a dozen, all of them in the orange and gold of Parvati.

"Zhe, I am Northern Lights, Parvati Navy, and we are declaring ourself independent. Never again will we be under the heel of Sol. We will go our own way, make our own decisions. We will not be a part of the Empire anymore."

What? This wasn't finding Fen at all. Northern had called out to... someone on her old home and is part of a navy? What is going on? "Northern, I want to go home. I don't want to be a part of... whatever this is. I want to find Fen."

"It's too late, Zhe. You can't leave now. You're committed. The only place I'm going is back to Sol with these impactors. We're going to declare independence from the Empire."

"Northern!" There was no reply. Zhe found that all of the sensor readings on her pad were locked out. She was blind to what was going on outside the ship.

Zhe ran to her room, panting. There has to be something she can do. Some way she can escape. Northern wasn't listening to her but she also wasn't restricting her movement. Zhe wondered if that meant that she felt Zhe wasn't a threat, or that she was too distracted making war to really keep an eye on her. She slammed the door behind her and sat on her bed, What was she going to do? She stared at the closed door to her cabin, trying to think. What would Fen do? What would Gord do? What would anyone else do?

She was staring at the back of her door for maybe five minutes before she stood up, walked slowly to the door, read the text on it, and laughing, ran out of her room. The back of the door said "In case of emergency, escape pods are located on deck 2, forward. See the steward for more information."

[meirimerens]

how do i get into drawing more? i've enjoyed drawing since i was a child but i never really practiced it that much and as such most of my stuff is pretty rudimentary from a technique standpoint. i only have physical supplies and i cannot afford an ipad or a drawing pad any time soon

there is no need for an ipad or a tablet if you don't already draw something expansive you don't even have to worry about that. I (and i imagine many/most artists who began drawing young) got my start on normal paper sheets the one they call "printer paper" because it's thin and textureless. Actually that might be a lie because I think that even before that I was drawing on walls so truly full circle of a thing.

The only stuff you need to draw are something To Draw With, whether it be a pencil or a pen; if it is a pencil also have an eraser, a no-bullshit rectangular eraser, I've literally never understood what the good was in the pink & blue ones beyond making holes & stamps in them, just get a normal good eraser, slightly squishy so it doesn't pull at the paper like a maniac when you use; And paper to draw in. I'd say get a sketchbook for the convenience + the chill of it all. Doesn't even have to be thicker "drawing paper" it can just be a random, lineless notebook. I like mine to have a spiral spine so I can take full advantage of the page but don't even need that. Genuinely for years this was my drawing material (+ whatever paper I found, including my school supplies)

(Staedtler eraser very good actually I've been using it for 10yrs among the better I've used if you find it get yourself one. This shit was like 1.50€ at my local papeteries and then again they mightve inflated the price)

Now I'm gonna tell you about my life because I think it colors the way I approach drawing and as such the advice I'll give you: I started drawing really young (like pre-dates knowing how to read or write) and never stopped. That means I, technically, have some 20+ years of drawing, but I still struggle with what are kinda "fundamentals". I only quite late, technically speaking, gotten into trying my hand as perspective & naturalistic anatomy. That's because I had, at the start, nothing but passion.

And that's gonna be the one piece of advice I have for you:

Get really, really into something, and start trying like the devil to get good at drawing it.

When I was a wee lad I loved horses so much (and I still do.) and all I wanted to do was get good at drawing horses so I could draw stories with horses, so I practiced drawing horses from the horse magazines i had. Around 11, I got really into manga and all I wanted to do was get good at drawing manga so I could draw my own (a lot of my actually like Formative Years of drawing was manga, and I think it's still visible especially when I draw cartoony faces these days), so I practiced drawing manga from the how-to books their were at the library (and we had actually good ones, including Japanese mangaka's translated into french). Around 14, I got really into Video Game, and all I wanted to do was get real good at drawing the characters, so i practiced from youtube tutorials & other internet finds. Nowadays I'm into art history & archeology, and go out of my way to see and grasp and understand #whateverthiswas and try to pepper it (or sometimes dump the whole bag) in my images.

If you're starting "from nothing", I feel like practicing anatomy for the sake of anatomy (for example) will just piss you off. When you get more into the groove of things, and actually want to Get Serious, you'll sit down to Actually Practice, but I personally have always found that Learning for the Passionate Goal makes the whole thing more interesting than Learning To Learn To Then Attempt The Passionate Goal.

It's gonna suck for a while. It truly will. You'll see every improvement so drastic you'll be like ewww what was that 2 months ago. But you will HAVE HAD FUN DOING IT!!!

Tldr

1) get into something. Whatever it is.

2) collect tools and tutorial to serve whatever it is you're into, and not try to get into the tools: that will come later, once you're already in the habit of drawing.

3) you don't need fancy material

4) never underestimate the power of the humble ballpoint pen and clicky pencil

5) train your brain, the muscle of your brain, to conjure up images until there is nothing you can do BUT exteriorize them lest they poison you

6) you don't have to post anything online btw. In fact, I attribute the fact that I have always loved art so much to the fact that for the first 15yrs of my life I could truly just enjoy the process and vibe. I still do, don't take me wrong, and truly I draw for myself and you're all trapped in here with me. Looking at the slop i feed you. But there is an inherent, new dimension added with Being The Blogger. So have fun and vibe.

7) the heart is the horse, the hands are the rider

[fontesdev]

DIY Headphones? Yeah, sure!

Because I haven't done much with my 3D printer for a while. Needs work but it works well enough and is pretty comfy. Pads attach magnetically too, you usually only see that crap on high-end stuff!

I intend to release the parts after a few revisions. For now it's using the cheapest drivers I could find on AliExpress, I'll get something better for the final version, after said part revision and using more than gray filament.

[altraviolet]

Hey violet!

What’s something you want to share with your audience that you couldn’t fit into TEG? Like a scene or some world building tidbit, etc :)

I wish you a wonderful day!!!

hey anon!

oooh this is always a fun question, but I can't think of anything in the moment. but! I hope you'll indulge me in this, something else I've been meaning to share for a while but hadn't taken the time to take pics yet

last year I printed all of TEG so I could edit it. I find editing a zillion times easier on paper than on the screen, especially because my free, ancient word processor doesn't play nice with AO3, so ALL OF TEG was hand typed with the html. so like every time you saw italics or bold, I hand wrote <i>the coding</i> in there. ANYWAY

I typeset it and went to interpolate (??? I forgot the word, but you have to order the pages a certain way in the PDF so the printer prints them correctly in folios) it in Adobe Acrobat (I think) but the function was broken Dx I haven't tested it since then, but I was VERY annoyed to find that was the case, cuz it meant instead of cutting TEG's ~1000 pages down by four to print, I could only cut down by two

so I spent about 3 days printing the whole damn thing out. after editing, I put the pages in acid protected plastic sheets and put 'em into binders:

I went through the whole thing with a red pen, making as many corrections as I could find. I did a post about my most common mistakes (please learn from my mistakes!) but here's a quick recap of the major findings:

"if... then" NOT "if... than"

pouring vs poring -> "poring over data pads" is correct

reticules vs reticles -> "reticles" are what we want, "reticules" are little purses

reign vs rein -> "rein in emotion" is the correct one

how em dashes work

capitalizing in quotations

Then after all that was done, I went back through with gold pen and added little "fun facts" and bits of info because I thought maybe someday I could sell this massive tome, or use it for a raffle for charity, or something, and my author notes would add some interest and value :)

So for example in the above picture, the gold tid bits are as follows:

text: "Ultra Magnus said it's a closed loop. He closed it himself when the tubes were installed."

note: but Soundwave opened them recently (this was a note to myself- this line is to throw off the reader re: how Soundwave siphoned away the 0001 energon in the Scavengers' tubes)

text: I'm glad we told the crew it was missing. Otherwise they'd probably tear us apart tonight when Ratchet does his thing with the current mix.

note: transparency laws (here Rodimus is referring to an off-page meeting in which the leadership team told the crew the 0001 energon was missing. they did this because of the transparency laws they put in place)

text:

Megatron: "If I asked you what the definition of Soundwave was, what would you answer?"

Rodimus: "I… I have no idea what you mean. Our Soundwave? 0001 Soundwave? Another Soundwave?"

note: R means TFP SW here :D b/c 0001 SW is mentioned separately (when Rodimus says "Our Soundwave?" he means the TFP Soundwave that has boarded the ship)

text: (Aquafend had) accidentally doubled a few of the layers, making the original map hard to see in some places.

note: tech issues inspired by boomers

text: Aquafend pointed to his own aft. "Soundwave: posterior."

note: bwa (I think this line is SO funny haha)

text: Ambulon shrugged. "Tell First Aid and Ratchet to lay off? Velocity's cool. I'm satisfied with my life here. I want to do my work unimpeded."

note: this is why he trusts her later with the spark jewels (by this I mean, it's very small and in the background, but Ambulon always defaults to Velocity as advisor or company over the other medics)

-

I did write a bunch of notes, but not on every page. I wanted to get going with making a typeset ebook available for folks (there's a link on AO3), and I do have the typeset PDF for anyone who wants to ficbind! I don't post that publicly, but I do give it out via email. Just email if you'd like to ficbind =)

So yeah! Right now these binders are just leaning against my bookshelf (in summer I use them to brace the door through the ever-present air pressure changes of a/c, lol). If I ever were to sell or give these away, I'd definitely go through and put notes on as many pages as possible. They're not on every page, but a good amount.

Thanks for the fun ask! =)

[megid0nt]

My New Keyboard: The Toshiba 67-Key Modular POS LCD keyboard

here's my new keyboard: the Toshiba 67-Key Modular POS keyboard!

I spent this weekend setting up a layout for it using the Toshiba Modular Device Utility v1.0.36 from Sharktastica's site, and designing a set of legends for it to print on my Epson TM-U675 Multifunctional POS printer!

Some interesting (for me) things to consider regarding the designs of these legends:

I knew I'd be printing these on my epson TM-U675 using the roll paper, so while I got to leverage my extant libraries for interacting with my printer for pixel-perfect print control, I also was limited to 225 pixels per line*!

Since we only have 225 pixels for 3.25" of print area, all of the single height keys are 29px tall, whereas double height are 81px. As for width, the squares are 29px wide and all others are 49px wide.

Because of the ink ribbon cartridge I have, they're fuckin Ourple

* Technically the TM-U675 lets you print in double width mode for up to 450 pixels per line, however it only has a double density mode for width and I did not want to design these with non 1:1 pixel aspect ratios. Maybe next time!

I've actually had this keyboard for a month or so now - I bought myself a clamp to mount this on my desk to use with my main desktop as a macro pad, but found it was too big for the clamp! As a result, it's kinda been floating around my room waiting for me to find a use for it. As luck would have it, I'm trying to learn how to draw and was starting to have frustrations with not having a keyboard under my hands but also not wanting too much between me and my drawing - an ample opportunity for a project!

However, try as I might, I cannot get much control over the LCD: it just says OK! I feel that with the Toshiba UPOS drivers I could do so much more, and could even use the GNU Image Manipulation Program's scripting interface to write status messages for the editor to it, but alas - Toshiba limits access to those resources to those with an Enterprise ID, which I do not have. Locked out of paradise.

Anyway, never give up - enjoy playing with all the weird technology you ever find forever and sometimes you might even find a single practical use for them 😌

[jakey-beefed-it]

So I've had this plan to build some allarus Custodes terminators as Ultramarines termies for a bit now- gonna pick up 2 boxes for 6 models so i can have a squad of 5 and a captain.

I spent the past like... month debating whether or not I wanted to make them assault terminators, shooty terminators, or magnetized to be both.

Just today I finally decided that assault termies is the way to go- if I end up getting shooty terminators at some later date, the non-blinged-out regular ones (specifically the taller new ones) should be good enough. I can slap some Ultramarines upgrades on there in terms of old terminator shoulder pads and a few little bits and bobs, job's done.

But okay, assault terminators- do I go thunder hammer and storm shield, or dual lightning clawshahhahaha no, there was never a question, hammer and shield forever. Sourcing allarus-scale storm shields with suitably decorative faces is easy enough, too- regular ass custodian warden shields work fine. Just do a hand swap. There are ultramarines-themed ones you can 3d print or order from pop goes the monkey etc that look like the ones the victrix guard use, and those would be PERFECT- but they're also outrageously expensive. Like I could probably get 5 terminators for that price if I got them secondhand. And I don't have a 3d printer or access to a good one for the slightly less outrageous price of the STL, so that route's out.

But with the shields sourced, I just need to figure out how to get the thunder hammers. None of the extant ones look very good tbh; they're either the wrong scale (mk x armor), the wrong scale (squatty old terminator) or the wrong chapter (dark angels, space wolves, deathwatch) or the wrong space marine faction entirely (chaos). I've found some really good looking ones on pop goes the monkey and shapeways, but again... hoo boy, those prices suck and I'm not paying them.

Mildly annoyed that finding Ultramarines themed hammers and shields has proved this difficult, considering their status as the faction's posterboys, but I guess this is how every other chapter feels the rest of the time so I can't complain too much.

[elizabethplaid]

evening notes - dec 19, 2024

TL;DR summary

Still not wearing pants; taking time to rest

Helped dad put away groceries, which barely fit

Rewarded with empty boxes

Cleaned part of my bathroom, put boxes to use

Texted LL-K about scarf measurement

Dug out more yarn; might make a new pumpkin?

Dad will deliver holiday treats tomorrow (Friday) and Saturday

I know I'm long-winded. You get a summary, because I love you.

Another day of sensory issues means most of the day was spent laying down. Dad went grocery shopping by himself today, and he brought back a ton of stuff. I helped put away as much as I could, but I got light-headed.

There was just so much food. Dad stocks up when he goes shopping, because it's such a long drive to these stores. (Military and wholesale discounts, plus better prices in the city, versus rural area stores.)

He brought me more empty product-display boxes from BJ's (a wholesale store like Costco), which included one big enough to hold 3 loaf-shaped cats side-by-side. One seemed like a generic "tray" size. Like for boxes of printer paper, it'd be the same size as the lid for that. A friend gave us a similar box that her canning jars came in.

Once I got upstairs, I had about 20 minutes of ambition and cleaned off one shelf and the the under-the-sink cabinet. The shelves were made with scrap wood to cover some pipes in the back corner, so they are very long and narrow. Basically, they're a pain to use for storage, because things get lost in the back. So I put my most-used items in a long basket (just the right size, too!) and wiped out the dust bunnies.

I combined some things into the same boxes, then threw out the empty ones. A variety pack of bandaids, with only the tiny ones remaining, got combined with the another open box of bandaids. Two sizes of tampons into the same box; same with pads.

The "lavatory library" was set aside. It's mostly magazines with pretty pictures and my dream-symbol dictionary. Wiped out the dust bunnies and trash under the sink. Found a washcloth I forgot about? Found another good hair clip, one of the bigger ones. Most of mine broke over time, and the only ones I can find now are smaller.

Since I wiped everything with a damp sponge, I'm letting it air dry before I reload it and close the cabinet doors. Boxes and books are in the hallway, but I don't think the cats will disturb anything. Wampus might steal some plastic? Moscow is keeping guard, in the big box. ===========

Texted LL-K (library lady K) about her scarf. She said she'll text me back about the measurements later tonight.

To keep myself from adding more to the scarf, I dug into my yarn stash in the living room. There's some pale pink baby yarn that I'm thinking of making into pumpkins, maybe with a cable knit. It's been more than a year since my last pumpkin. (There's still some that never got stuffed, haha.)

While dinner was in the oven, I worked to separate a double-stranded yarn. It's a "fun fur" or "eyelash" novelty yarn, but it has this funky rainbow pom-pom as the other strand. It looks like clown pox; I hate it. Separately, it might make a cute trim or a fun accent to a plush. Not really knit together with something else, maybe just woven between stitches. =====

Checked in with phone-friend tonight. They're cool with skipping holiday gifts. I went on a mushy tangent about how our friendship means more than gifts - that my heart already overflows and I don't feel the need to ask for more. It's true, but the brain fog is the bigger hurdle.

We're skipping our call this week, so they can spend time with family. I think my brain will be in better shape by next weekend. I'm in a good place with everything else. Plus, I'm having fun browsing through the videos my friend recommended to me last week. =====

My brain-word capacity is running low, but I want to make note of ideas for future discussions - whether here on tumblr or with my friend or my counselor.

Different levels of goals I'd like to meet this upcoming year, like tasks or returning to the library.

Something about my long hair?

Revisiting long-abandoned organization tasks

(Counseling) Comparing and contrasting current and past me

Clearing drafts on here and my side blogs

I also need to back up my computer files again. Probably need to cull some files, too. God knows I don't label files with appropriate names.

[drawpaintwritemakethings]

Art Gift Box Number 1

Making an art gift box — a collage painting on wood panel, two cigar-tin stories, a figurine glass art object and some extras to pad things out. The painting is a bit mad; it’s an ink transfer onto kleenex/tissue that I pressed into gel. The one cigar-tin story is different endings, while the other one has some kind of prose poetry … barking stuff, fun stuff, there’s one I like called Ending for a Movie About Dragons and it goes — The dwarves never make it to the Golden Peak. They never even make it to the Whispering Forest, or to the Desolated Plains, or even to the Struggling Station. Deep within the tunnels of the Mountains of No Tomorrow, lost and starving and half-mad with fear, abandoned by the Wizard of Grey Space, they are surrounded by an immense horde of goblins, a vast swarming of yellow eyes, their teeth red and terrible, and within an hour dwarf skulls are being used as trophies and footballs, the look of horror and surprise frozen on their disembodied faces, so amazed they are at the utter corruption of their magical belief in a quest based in honour and promises. The art object is essentially a snow globe without any snow, just a tiny man sitting on a boulder of acrylic strips, trapped under glass. The whole set is meant as a gift for someone to decorate a new cubicle or old desk or a busy bookshelf. I think it’s just nice to have interesting things within reach when you’re trying to think. If you like this set, drop me a line. I am happy to gift-wrap it, put in a note from the sender and deliver it to someone’s doorstep (if they live in the area). 

Art Gift Box Number 2

Let's make another art gift box! Start with a box that you saved for some reason, some box that made you say, This is a perfectly good box! Of course this kind of thinking is a product of aging, this compulsion to save things, hang on to things, but let’s leave that discussion (diagnosis?) for some other time. First thing into this gift box is a small collage on cradled wood panel, four by six by one and three-quarter inches, a collage in taupe and Prussian blue in distressed layers, big graphic type mixed with instructions from a vintage (sixties?) computer programming textbook, plus details from medieval illustrations. Because why not. Without Even Your Melancholy Fire this painting is called, also for reasons that now elude me. Next thing to add is an ink drawing of a jazz-age bather, black on white with a spot of red for her bathing suit, on photo paper. I like her smile. Almost demure. Then an art object, a figure sitting on a mound of acrylic strips, trapped under glass, she's wearing red as well, perched there contemplating life, on the lid over her head it reads: an Idea. Next up are four mixed media illustrations on playing cards, four portraits of characters, with the titles: I Can Hardly Remember Them Now, I Find It Difficult to Believe, That These Were the Reasons, and These Four I Loved the Best. You could display these together or spread about a room. Next we have a print on found paper called I Want to Kiss You So Badly. This is wax monotype, one pressing only, using a derelict ink jet printer, literally on its last legs, with the surprising advantage of it printing completely random colour combinations, especially when fed sheets of wax paper. This is a still from the movie Imitation of Life, with the incomparably troubled Lana Turner. And then an ink drawing, again with a spot red, of a young girl addressing her seated doll. As one does. Next into the box is a cigar-tin story, the booklet inside has a series of endings, on the cover is a painting of blonde lady in a cap, surrounded by blue. Next up is a hipster (meaning: homemade) notebook, pocket-sized, with an ink drawing of a lion on the cover. Last but not least is another collage painting on a cradled panel, in various reds, with the word POEM in prominence. The colour scheme for this gift set is various shades of red, from crimson to cinnamon, with some items in blue and taupe for contrast. Meant as a travelling art assembly, some plug-and-play, for someone with a new room, bookshelf, cubicle or mantle, someone who appreciates real things made by humans. Everything is varnished or otherwise protected and meant to be picked up, examined and handled. If this interests you, or you have someone in the Kingston area who needs this as a gift, then drop me a line. I can gift wrap it, add a personal note and deliver.

[reiyu7antapes]

idk whats your art look like u should post it so we can find out

2 months late but here we go.. heh. 😈😈

recent art 1st pic is an oc, 2nd pic is a self portrait ( no, i dont actually have piercings, i just glued them on my lips with lash glue. "septum piercing" is actually a paper clip i bent =__=;; )

materials used: staedler norica pencil hb cheap eraser i got from abday party correction fluid for the highlights watercolor paper from hokka (2nd pic) normal pad paper (1st pic)

i used my printer to scan these, i didnt edit the first one, only adjusted the shadows and highlights on the second pic