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funtimebunnyblog · 4 years

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Me: *receives this request*

Me: *sips my 3rd coffee of the day from my raccoon mug in the pitch dark of my room*

Me: My time has come...

Pillarmen (separate) with a coffee addicted, sarcastic, career focused s/o (who doesn’t get enough sleep)...

(under the cut for length!)

Kars:

"Have you eaten today?" The Pillarmen questioned you, looming over your desk in the dark of your Office.

"Yes." You answered simply, not bothering to tear your eyes from the laptop screen or the sea of words it held sitting before you. Kars however knew better than to leave it at just that, folding his arms across his chest as he cocked an eyebrow.

Kars frowned to himself as his eyes took in your workspace, trying not to focus on the fact that was littered with disorganized papers, food wrappers and a few empty mugs.

He would never let his desk degenerate into something even close to this mess.

"Alright. What did you eat?"

Kars clicked his tongue, letting out the sigh he knew he was going to make upon making the decision to check in on you in the first place. He had known very well this conversation would be steered into a direction like this.

A silence fell over the room, your the clicking of keyboard keys stalling for the briefest second before resuming.

"Coffee." Came the answer.

"Coffee is NOT a meal." He said curtly.

"I know it's not a meal, it's a vegetable." You replied without missing a single beat.

He pursed his lips, "Now what makes you say that?"

"It came from beans."

"Something to eat first, then you may finish your work. And then it's straight to bed with you." He ordered, carrying you downstairs to the kitchen. It was late and he knew that if he didn't set these boundaries you would be hunched over, typing away at your messy little desk all hours of the night.

Without another word you were picked up out of your office chair like nothing more than a common house cat and thrown over his shoulder, the massive man rolled his eyes as you whined that you had only a couple more pages to do and you were trying to finish.

He ignored your protests as much as he disregarded the sluggish pounds of your fists on his backside.

Needless to say, he didn't want a repeat of last time that happened. Coffee and redbull brew was a potent mixture he wanted to keep out of your reach from now on, no matter how tired you claimed to be.

"Ok, Mom." You bit back, finally giving up on your futile squirming for the night. You shot him your best glare as he set you down on the kitchen counter, the rings under your bleary eyes only becoming more prominent as he once again ignored your words and your stare, getting right into fixing you something quick to eat.

Kars wasn't a person to be spoken to in that way by anyone (they never usually lived long enough to get such remarks out) but you were much different of course. In fact, your sharp tongue was easily matched by his quick wit; it only made you an even stronger pair to be reckoned with in his opinion.

With only a quirk of his lips as a response to your sarcastic quip, a cookie was shoved into your mouth.

"Here. Perhaps this will sweeten up your sour, my child." He said, now fully getting on your level as he busied himself making you a sandwich.

A smile curled at the corners of your full mouth as you chewed away, your demeanor just a little lighter as sweet chocolate goodness tickled your senses. However, chocolate did little to coat the silver of your tongue.

"Bite me." You spat playfully, a few crumbs escaping your lips along with the words.

"You know better than to threaten me with a good time, dearest." Kars responded, not even lifting his eyes from the cutting board as he sliced away at a cucumber.

You nearly choked on the sweet you were savoring as you doubled over in laughter, making Kars smile to himself in triumph.

Esidisi:

"What are you doing?" Esidisi watched you with curious interest as you began to depart from the kitchen, just seconds after making your entrance, the entire pot of black coffee he had just prepared in your hand.

The steaming pot of rich and buzzing Caffeine was snatched from your grasp in a fraction of a second, you blinked to find squirming tendrils of veins spiriting it away back to your Husband.

"I'm flipping oyster burgers for the King of Spain, what does it look like?" You asked without even a thought, an impressive feat as it seemed like you were mere seconds away from falling over.

Disheveled wasn't even a word to describe your appearance. Your hair in disarray and wearing the same clothes as you had yesterday; you looked like you had been put through the ringer not once but a few times.

"Hey!" You cried, fully turning on him. It only made the smirk at the corner of his mouth grow as you advanced on him, stomping angrily as you went; inevitably you were only making yourself more adorable in his eyes. "Give that back! I need to get some work done!"

Taking the entire pot with you was the most elegant solution in your eyes rather than coming back downstairs every so often to refill your mug. You definitely needed the quantity of this pot if you wanted to stay awake any longer to complete your workload.

"Ah ah ah, not so fast little oyster flipper!" He laughed, holding the pot far out of your reach and pushing you at arms length as you attempted to make a grab for it.

Esidisi was always amused by your fiery determination when it came down to your work and the lengths you went through to get it done but he knew when enough was enough.

"What I want to know is, did you get any sleep last night?" He questioned, a bare brow raising; a look betraying his genuine concern for you in the midst of his jest.

The Pillarman was not going to let you take the pot of coffee all the way back to your office to chug like an oversized movie soda as you pushed through more piles of papers. You had been up there practically three days straight, basically just surviving on the stuff at this point.

If you weren't going to take care of yourself, he supposed he'd just have to do it for you.

"Er... uh..."

You blinked slowly, the raw stinging of your eyes didn't quite help you in forming a convincing response.

You could've swore you nodded off once, maybe twice, at your desk sometime in the middle of the night but you weren't sure for how long exactly. It probably didn't even come close to qualifying as "sleep" in terms of rest.

"Mm-hmm. That's what I thought." He hummed, putting the pot of coffee back in its rightful place. A sound of surprise managed to escape your lips as he picked you up, carrying you out of the kitchen like you were nothing more than a toddler.

"Wh-Where are we going?" You questioned, blinking stupidly and trying to recover from your slight shock.

"Hmm, not Spain. Sorry, you won't be flipping any burgers today, my little spit-fire." He responded, his tone fluid enough to rival your second-nature sarcasm.

Your lips came together, squirming in his hold as you connected the dots. "I can't go to bed! I still have woooork!" You whined, pushing against him as if that would do anything in his powerful grasp. "I'm not tired!"

"Really? Oh, you could've fooled me." He chuckled, the rumbling of his chest against yours only making sleepy shivers dance through your body.

"I just need some coffee! That's all, c'mon!"

"No more coffee for you. You drank enough to last you a fortnight, yesterday."

He was so warm and comfortable, a much better feeling than any sized mug of coffee you could guzzle down would leave you; your fidgeting had come to a complete stop without you realizing it.

"I just..." You were cut off by a yawn forcing its way out of you. "...just a few more... p-papers..."

"Not today you're not." He chided softly, a hand rubbing tender little circles into your back with heated fingers. You knew that he knew it was only making you more sleepy (not to mention more frustrated) by the second. "You're having a sleep, something proper to eat later and a shower and then you can work and drink all the coffee you want."

Just a few more papers. Just a few more papers.... Just a few more papers.... Just... a few... more...

By the time Esidisi had reached the top of the stairs, your struggle had ceased all together and you had fallen limp in his arms; completely and utterly asleep.

The litany in your head fell silent as your eyelids drooped, losing yourself in the warmth of your Husbands embrace as the swaying of his movement rocked you as he walked along.

So many cheeky things you wanted to say died like flickering embers in your brain, unable to escape your lips this time.

Wamuu:

"Beloved?" The Warrior pushed open the door to your office, peering into the dark room with a frown. "Are you in here?"

"No. I'm on the Moon." Your voice (sounding a little worn but still holding that familiar pinch of playfulness) cut through the dark, coming right from your desk where you were hunched over and drawing away; the dim light from your tablet was the only thing cutting through the shadows of your cave.

He couldn't help but notice it was the exact spot he had left you when he departed early this morning to go do some training.

Warm, golden light shrouded you and your cluttered desk area, making you blink in surprise. You hadn't really realized that it had gotten dark at all and for the briefest of seconds you wondered how late exactly it had gotten; you shook your head quickly as you regained your focus on your work.

Nonetheless, Wamuu smiled softly and entered your workspace. It was an easy feat for the Pillarman to make his way through despite the darkness cloaking the room as he had most excellent night vision.

However, upon reaching your side, he reached over and flicked on your table lamp. He knew that the dark wasn't exactly doing your Human vision much good.

"Thank you." You mumbled, swiping your digital pen across the screen with slow and careful movements.

Wamuu hummed softly, leaning over you with a curious eye to see your work better.

"That looks very nice." He commented, the corners of his full lips tugging into a sweet smile as he admired your handiwork. You never ceased to amaze him with your little drawings and sketches.

You needed to get this piece done by the weekend and you wanted it done today so it could be out of your way. Each slip up of your hand or a line only made you feel more exhausted and more picky, lines overlapped and blurred and you could no longer take in the picture anymore; just your mistakes and its flaws.

A tired sigh escaped your lips, "I just can't get the shading right. I think I've had to redo it 8 times now..." you grumbled, only getting increasingly frustrated at the setback, a hand unconsciously reaching up to scrub at your eye.

Your eyeballs were starting to burn from focusing on the screen too long, a feeling much akin to being rubbed raw with sandpaper.

"Have you been drawing all day?" He questioned, turning his gaze down to the crown of your head with worry.

The Warriors smile fell as he took in your awry state more closely, he definitely didn't miss the umpteen mugs of coffee littering your space (some of which were only half-finished and long gone cold by now).

Did you even move at all while he had been gone? When was the last time you showered? Ate? Changed your clothes?

Really it was the best answer you could give, all you knew was that it was dark and you were sore and tired and your hand was cramping... so it was more than likely you had spent the entirety of the day working.

Once again, your movements stalled before slowly regaining focus, your movements slothy and lacking your usual grace.

"I guess..." you answered lamely.

Again.

Wamuu shook his head, you had been drawing all night last night and you had promised to go to bed after he kissed you goodbye this morning. It was obvious you forgot your promise and kept working.

The drawing tablet was easily plucked from your grasp, making you jump in surprise and reflexively make a grab for it.

"Wamuu-- wha--?!"

"This won't do." He said, quickly hitting the save button on your piece of art as he pulled the tablet further from your reach. "You're done for today."

"What? No! I--" You made an attempt to snatch it back but the hulking man wasn't having any of it, gazing down at you with stern double-ringed emeralds.

For now, he was taking matters into his own hands.

"No. You've worked far too long. Look at you beloved, you've become nothing but a shell!" He chastised, walking past you and placing your tablet on the highest shelf of your office; far, far from your reach.

You would only get it back once you were rested and cared for.

He pushed open the bathroom door with careful ease, not even struggling as he held you and set you down on the toilet.

You were picked up with ease, cradled in the Warriors arms like he was rescuing you from the battlefield as he marched out of the room. Your whines and cries and pleas to be put down went ignored, even as you pounded weakly on his chest.

You had originally thought he was taking your straight to the bedroom to put you down for a sleep but no, he walked right past the room without even a passing glance.

"Sit there." He told you, pressing a tender kiss to your head; the softness of his actions rendering you silent. "Let me handle this."

Your previous protests, your frustrations and any and all thoughts to your work had died all together by the time you two had stripped and were sitting comfortably in the warm scented water.

You blinked, watching him as he puttered around the bathroom; filling the tub with warm water and adding a generous portion of your favorite bathsoap, making a luscious and soothing scent fill the air and your senses.

A warm bath together would do you both some good, he was a little rumpled from training all day himself and you were worn down from your own work. Wamuu always enjoyed washing your hair and bathing together was always a good de-stressor in his eyes.

"You're too persuasive," you remarked, the words coming out as more of a sigh as he combed his fingers through your damp hair.

You hated to admit it but this was just what you needed; you could literally feel all the stress and overwork just washing away with the water rolling over you.

Wamuu chuckled softly, squeezing some of your favourite shampoo into his huge palm. "And You're negligent of your own needs. But don't worry, that's why I'm here..."

Santana:

"You are tired."

"I'm not tired!" You groaned, the exasperation in your voice was short-lived as the corners of your lips quirked up into a teeny grin. "...I'm y/n."

Santana tilted his head, pursing his lips. Usually you would chuckle at his obvious confusion (Santana still couldn't quite grasp puns and dry humor like sarcasm well, despite it being something you used more than often) but today you were too busy to sit down and explain it, let alone spend any time with him.

You still had work to pick at upstairs and judging by how things were going, you weren't going to be done anytime soon.

It didn't help the fact that Santana was becoming increasingly worried about you; he had caught you pouring yourself a bowl of orange juice and a glass of cereal this morning when you begrudgingly trudged downstairs for breakfast. The growling of your stomach neglecting its needs had become too unbearable.

Either way; you weren't going to let the fact you haven't seen a bed (or a fresh change of clothes) in days stop you.

"I just need to get some work done, Santana..." you sighed, emptying the pot of coffee into your mug. "I have a deadline at the end of the week."

"Sleep is for the weak." You replied, bringing the steaming mug to your lips for the first sip.

"You have not slept in days." He pointed out, the deep timber of his voice rumbling around the room. You could feel his eyes staring into your back as you fumbled around the kitchen.

Damn him for being so perceptive.

"Your kind is very weak." Came the immediate and factual response. "You require sleep to function and survive."

Like it or not, he was spitting straight facts.

You nearly choked on the gulp of hot liquid, it burned in your throat as his words hit you. Your mate watched as you opened your mouth and fumbled with a response to conteract that statement; ultimately having nothing.

It was always hard to argue when you felt so sluggish, your brain running just as well as an old windows computer, let alone when Santana stood there blinking so innocently.

You groaned, shuffling out of the room; mug in hand and the migrane you had been trying to rid of slowly regaining its pounding pulse in your temples.

"Oh honey, I'll be fine..." you whined, trying to ignore his eyes still watching you as you began your slothy trek up the stairs. "I may be a 'Primitive lifeform' but I can handle a little work."

The Pillarman watched you go, frowning to himself as you disappeared up the stairs; the hard shut of the door to your office the only sound following your exit.

Your energy was very low, he had only seen you eat a handful of times and it seemed like you were running into walls and doors more often than the average Human lately.

Santana was getting worried.

The hours of the morning ticked bye, eventually Noon rolled around and then passed and you didn't come down for lunch (or more coffee). The primal instincts of protecting you as his mate inevitably kicked in and Santana found himself at the door to your office, peering in with a curious eye.

There he was met with the sight of you slumped over at your desk, your back rising and falling slowly and rhythmically. The sounds of your soft breath hit his sharp ears, even from all the way across the room, and he found himself wandering in, coming right up beside you where you lay crumpled.

You stirred slightly, making his hair stand on end as a groan barely passed your lips before you settled down again, resuming your quiet snoring.

Upon further inspection he found your eyes were closed, cheek smooshed right against the wood of the desk and papers sticking uncomfortably to your face. Even your pen was still gripped in hand.

His eyes skimmed over some loose papers, nothing but meaningless words and numbers scrawled across the white without rhyme and reason to him but always it held some deeper meaning to you; your supposed work.

Your coffee had barely been touched, gone cold and sitting quite forlorn among the foodwrappers and empty water bottles and papers scattered across your workspace. Santana reached for the mug, sniffing curiously at the coal black liquid sloshing around inside. Throughout all the time he had known you, you always had a strange attachment to this drink; you claimed it was what kept you functioning.

Curiosity got the best of him and he brought it to his lips for a taste, wondering the exact appeal of it. He shuddered, growling, almost spitting the shallow mouthful of it out and turning his head away as the bitter and cold liquid overwhelmed his senses as it slipped down his throat...

Disgusting.

He brought the mug to his mouth again, unable to stop himself as he dove in for his second taste; doing the very same thing as before.

Not bad, actually.

The red-haired Pillarman pulled the mug close a third time, throwing his head back gulping back the liquid as if his life depended on it. Licking his lips and blinking rapidly, he cradled the now empty mug to his bare chest as his nostrils flared and toes curled, riding out the waves of it overpowering his senses.

It was so terrible but so good at the same time; so good he didn't want it to end but so terrible he wished the bitter and overpowering aftertaste would leave his tongue.

He turned his attention back to you, with a tilt of his head. You were still sleeping, nonethewiser to his very presence; it was likely you would stay that way for some time.

With only a moments thought he shuffled out of the room quickly, returning just moments later with a blanket and pillow in tow.

You needed your sleep to function, as he had told you, so he would leave you to it as he went downstairs to prepare more of that delicious "coffee" for when you woke.

With all the carefulness in the world, a massive hand slipped under you, lifting your face just inches off the had desk as he slipped the cushy pillow under you and let you down softly.

Gently, he draped the blanket over your back before leaning down, smoothing your hair and pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

He planned on having another mug himself.

Or two mugs.

Or five.

Or maybe three pots worth...

#funnybunny #pillarmen #pillarmen headcanons #kars #esidisi #wamuu #santana #kars x reader #esidisi x reader #wamuu x reader #santana x reader #my writing

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o-wyrmlight · 2 years

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What do you use to draw? I'm pretty sure you use a drawing tablet, but what brand? Any reccomendations?

I have two Gaomon tablets! One which I use for my laptop and one that I use for my desktop.

The one I use for my desktop is a Gaomon PD2200. It's a rather large tablet that comes with a stand. It's really neat, and the screen itself is this sort of matte cover that makes it feel a little more like paper. The main downside is that the 'buttons' aren't 'buttons' so much as they are 'touch buttons'. As a result, you can't really feel when you're pressing on the buttons, so if you try to use them without looking at them, you could press the wrong thing. I ended up not using them and keeping them on, and eventually had to turn that whole function off because it kept picking up inputs that I wasn't giving it and making me think that my computer was messing up.

The one I use for my laptop is a much smaller one that plugs directly into it. It's a PD1161. It has a much smaller screen, but the upside is that it's a display tablet (like the PD2200) and it acts as a second monitor, so I can look at what I'm drawing while I'm watching a YouTube channel and being online. This one has unmarked buttons (that I could mark with a silver sharpie or something), but they're actual buttons, so I already consider that to be a plus.

I like Gaomon! It's a rather fair brand for the price, I feel. The only things I don't really like about them that I've consistently noticed in between both of the products that I have is that:

The colors look different from how they are on the other screen and it's difficult to try to figure out how to adjust them to the same values

The biggest issue I have is that there's often a drift from where the pen is and where the tablet detects it as being. It varies all around the board, and calibrating the screen doesn't seem to do much to fix it. Checking on my drawing tablet right now, it looks to be less accurate towards the center and more accurate around the edges of the screen for some reason. You can work around it, but it's a little frustrating at times that you have to focus on the actual cursor on the screen.

The PD2200 and its touch buttons are difficult to use, and even when I wasn't using them, they still eventually ended up detecting false inputs that made me dread trying to draw on it and frustrated me to no end. I eventually figured out what the issue was, but it took a good couple of months before it finally clicked in my brain after getting a whole other keyboard and noticing that the issues were still continuing.

Aside from drawing tablets, my traditional mediums tend to vary! I like to experiment from time to time with different mediums, and this includes ballpoint pens, sketching pencils, India inks, calligraphy ink, watercolors, alcohol markers, colored pencils... it helps me feel less like I'm sitting in the same rut all the time, being able to swap in between different mediums and experiment. Sometimes what you need to get out of art block is a bit of rest. Sometimes what you need is trying something different!

Traditional-wise, what I really want to do is get a bundle of colored calligraphy inks so I can do some colored lineart, but all that Amazon's really showing me is India inks and glass pen inks. Which are all water-based and not made for calligraphy pens.

As an aside, as a touch of experimentation, I figured out that India inks and glass pen inks work very well on watercolor paper, and it doesn't blot or bleed as much as it does on sketch paper! Sort of makes me wish I did that Pure Vanilla drawing on watercolor paper instead of a sketchbook, but then again I also wish I used a different color for the lineart anyway, so. You win some, you lose some.

Experimenting is,, fun. I think people deserve to experiment.

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justkurotingz · 4 years

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“you’re under arrest” (aaron hotchner x reader)

i just rewatched the last seasons of the show, and i was just really, really inspired(aka i sobbed a lot) by “the storm” so i wanted to write this. in this oneshot HEAVILY based on the episode, you are about 6-7 weeks pregnant, and your belly has just started to show 🥺🥺🥺🥺

word count: 1.5K

“jack did you pack your comics?” you smiled at your young son, who was shoveling down breakfast as fast as he can. “you’re going to choke.” you sighed, refilling his water. “come on jack, it’s almost time to go.” aaron chuckled, unlocking the safe so he could get his gun.

he had just holstered it when the door flew open with a bang, startling all three of you. aaron had just whipped his gun around when he realized it was SWAT. you quickly covered jack’s eyes, your own eyes wide. ‘i’m on the job.” aaron said calmly, but the man at the front was persistent.

“drop your weapon.” he demanded. “i’m aaron hotchner with the fbi.” aaron spoke up, still training his gun at captain grant howard. “we know who you are, lower your gun.” howard demanded. instead of lowering his gun, aaron frowned. “who sent you?” he asked.

“aaron.” you warned him quietly, and he faltered, glancing at you in defeat. “this is mistake.” he pressed, lowering his gun. “daddy what’s going on?” jack asked, tearing his eyes away from your hand. aaron barely had time to reassure jack before the men demanded he kneel. “on your knees, hands behind your back.”

“is this really necessary?” hotch asked calmly, but the men were not playing. “now.” he commanded and hotch sighed, kneeling slowly. “daddy!” jack cried and you started to tear up, afraid what was going to happen. “it’s ok jack, it’s a big mistake and everything’s going to be alright.” aaron looked at his son before his eyes trailed to you. “i love you.” he said softly and you nodded. the men handcuffed aaron and led him out the door. “dad!” jack cried but they slammed the door shut. you peered out the window where hotch was escorted into a car and they drove off.

“mommy. mommy what’s happening?” jack’s eyes grew wide after seeing the tears stream down my face. “it’s ok baby, we’re not going to school today. let’s go hang out with uncle spencer and everyone else, ok?” jack nodded, picking up his backpack and you carried him to the car, strapping him in.

“spence, listen carefully.” you called your best friend, voice thick with worry and tears. “jack’s here so i’m not going to share everything, but aaron was just arrested by MPD.” “what?” spence apparently got up in shock and you nodded, although he couldn’t see. “just tell the others, i’ll be right there. tell garcia to check 911 phone calls, he must have been framed.”

spence hung up, rushing to the rest of the team. “oh my god.” jj said, and penelope looked shocked. “on it, i’m checking the calls now.” her fingers shook as they flew across the keyboard. moments later, you arrived with jack in tow. “i didn’t want him away from me. i figured this would be the safest place. hey baby, want to go play with auntie jj?” jack shook his head. “i want to go to daddy’s office.” jj nodded, talking to jack quietly, trying to cheer him up on the way.

“hey calm down. y/n, calm down.” the pregnancy was affecting your emotions and you burst into tears, sitting down heavily. “i don’t know why i’m such a mess. but seeing aaron there, kneeling in front of them... jack saw most of it. he saw his superhero being arrested.” you were sobbing and spence gently sat next to you, comforting you. “hey, you’re ok. it was a mistake and we’re going to figure out where he is. hotch isn’t going down with a fight, we’re all here.” you nodded, wiping your tears and dave sat down next to you.

“he’s downtown. we’re going to get him home y/n. don’t worry.” he kissed your forehead and got up. “i’m going to head downtown to see who’s holding him.” spence nodded from next to you. “call us.” “of course.” dave exited, rushing to the elevator. “i found the call.” garcia played the recording of the 911 call.

“today will change everything.” hotch warned. “oh my god.” you clapped a hand to your mouth and spence frowned. “that’s spliced together. hotch definitely said parts of that in conferences. do you see how the inflection is different?” tara nodded, eye solemn. “so hotch was framed for a... bomb threat?” “it’s definitely spliced and spoofed. something else is going on.” spence mused. just then, rossi called. “the doj has him. i tried to talk to him but they wouldn’t let me.”

at aaron’s interrogation room, they played the same 911 call. “voice recognition says it’s yours.” “oh come on, i’ve said parts of that sentence in my press conferences. do you seriously believe i’d blow up my team?” “there’s also this.” a video of mr. scratch warning the world against aaron played on the tablet in front of him.

“would you really believe anything a convicted serial killer says?” aaron questioned, face barely masking his suppressed frustration. “we didn’t at first, but there’s more. we have your credit card statements that show you’ve recently purchased materials needed in building a bomb. you also failed to mention in your report that you had been exposed to a dissociative drug that led to psychotic breaks. you left that out.” aaron sighed, shaking his head.

“furthermore, you’ve made bad judgement calls regarding agnet rossi and former agent greenaway. after your ex-wife was murdered, your judgement has been clouded.�� “why would i be stupid enough to call in my supposed threat? these are my agents, my team. my wife who is 6 weeks pregnant with our child works under my team. my wife. i would never hurt her.” aaron leaned forward, eyes dark with anger and the man sighed.

“i want to believe you, i really do. but the evidence we have against you is undeniable. you’ve got to accept that.” back at the BAU, spence was pondering a thought. “antonia slade warned hotch that a storm was coming. we need to talk to her right now.” jj nodded, and rushed down to talk to her. after it was revealed that it wasn’t her, but her son, spence discovers that while asher douglas did splice the 911 call, he’s autistic, and not responsible for the “storm.”

“come on.” you whispered, getting up to pace, making jack glance at you. “mommy are you ok?” “just worried about daddy sweetie.” you answered, murmuring under your breath. the team had just figured out it was rawdon before they got the call from SWAT about a prison break.

“hey, where do you think you’re going?” you paused, looking at dave. “to help?” “y/n, this is a sensitive case. and you’re pregnant.” “oh come on.” spence looked at you and chimed in. “hey, we’ll be fine. just stay and take care of yourself. and jack.” you sighed, sitting back down and waved to them as they went down the elevator. “come on jack, let’s go wait in daddy’s office.”

hours later, you got the frantic call from spence, telling you what had went down. there was a major prison break and a shootout. rawdon had hid the bomb in the ivory tower, but before the anarchists could escape with the bomb, the helicopter was shot and the bomb detonated in air, bringing down the anarchists and the bomb.

“wow.” you said, trying to process it quickly. “hotch is on his way, he left before us. talk later, bye.” he ended the call and you sighed, watching jack draw. it hadn’t even been five minutes since spence called when hotch burst into his office.

“thank god.” he whispered, dropping everything and rushing to you. “y/n i am so so sorry. i am so sorry baby. reid told me the state you were this morning.” he kissed your forehead, wrapping you in a hug, one arm tangled in your hair. you hugged him back, tears streaming down your face. “oh baby, i know, i know you were so worried.” aaron kissed them away, gently placing a hand on your slightly bigger stomach. “we’re ok. we’re ok.” you reassured him and aaron pressed another kiss to your forehead. “i’m so sorry for scaring you.”

“hey jack.” jack didn’t respond, he just kept on coloring. “hey.” aaron said louder, but jack just opened his backpack and put the drawing in. “hi. are you ok?” he said absently and aaron sighed, squatting to his son’s level. “yeah, i’m alright. how are you?” “fine.” “jack, come on buddy. talk to me.” jack looked up at his father with sad eyes. “daddy you made mommy cry. you told me that men who hurt women are cowards.” “oh buddy.” aaron lifted jack in his arms. “daddy made a lot of mistakes today. but that’s ok, because i love mommy and you. i apologized to mommy. and now i’ll apologize to you. i’m sorry you had to see what happened in the morning. is daddy still your superhero?”

“yeah.” jack smiled, throwing his arms around his dad’s neck, making you smile. “let’s go home.” for once, you couldn’t be more glad to get out of the office.

#criminal minds #criminal minds scenario #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds imagine #scenario #fluff #imagine #angst #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #fbi #fbi imagine #pregnant #6 weeks pregnant #oneshot #one-shot #writer

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redemptioninchaos · 5 years

Text

The Darkness in Light

Story progression involving characters owned by @newnerdgeneration

Sexual assault under the cut. You have been warned.

Ozzy shoved the wolf inside what appeared to be a vacant office building. The floor felt really soft, even in his loafers. It was dimly lit, all but one light switch down, the only light on above someone who sat in a chair. The room smelled of fancy cigar smoke, some of it wafting above the seat with its back turned towards Augustus. A mahogany desk stood in between the mysterious host and the wolf, a sleek-looking tablet and keyboard set up along with a lamp and several folders. Dark blinds hung over the windows that stretched from the floor to the ceiling beyond the unknown host.

“Leave us, Ozzy,” said the host, a female voice. The door slammed behind Augustus and locked.

Wait...this scenario feels oddly familiar...and I don’t like it. Augustus clutched his upper left arm, his tail curved into his legs a bit.

The host took another puff of her cigar. “Have a seat, Augustus.”

Well, it certainly wouldn’t have been good to draw the ire of this supposed leader of the magical syndicate. He peeked at the comfortable-looking office chair in front of the desk, looking for any sort of trap. He then scoffed. These weren’t mere mortals he was dealing with. If there was some sort of restraint about to be placed on him, it wouldn’t be in a bunch of hidden straps.

He apprehensively sat down, his arms and hands trembling a little. His quickened breathing slowly modulated itself. He had no idea how to start the conversation, so the host simply puffed in silence.

It went on like this for two whole minutes before Augustus drew in a breath to speak. “Uh--”

“I must say,” the host cut him off, “your acting skills are really convincing. But...” the host turned her chair around to reveal the mountain lion--yes, the mountain lion--that had gotten him in this mess in the first place, alive, unharmed, and dressed in a tight satin button-up shirt and a short black skirt. “I daresay that my acting skills are yet better.” She had a darkly warm smile across her face before taking another puff from her cigar.

Augustus breathed out, and he was convinced his soul had left him. Images of the night at the summit and the morning after flashed in his mind, first the cup he sipped from, then the vague memories of holding her, then fuzzy memories of him doing a lot more than holding her...finally, the image of her bloodied corpse on the penthouse floor. Looking back on it, he never even bothered to check for a pulse.

He simultaneously wanted to escape through the window and take her with him while doing so, yet he felt...strangely paralyzed. His body violently shook, but he just couldn’t move. The same sensation of arousal had overcome him, although there was no love potion involved here. Even though his agency had seemed locked, he would do everything in his power to prevent a repeat of that incident.

“That’s why I needed pure, unadulterated passion from you, Augustus.” She took one final puff of her cigar and held her breath, slowly getting up, her hips sashaying a bit.

All logical instincts pointed to “RUN,” but Augustus still couldn’t move. There were no outer restraints on the chair in any way; rather, the only restraints on the wolf were internal.

She got closer, and his tail tucked further in between his legs. His pupils dilated with both sheer terror and primal desire, ambivalence manifesting in a vein bulging from his temple. She ran a hand across his chest slowly before scratching his belly.

If there was any doubt that she was intimate with him before, there was no doubt now, as she precisely scratched the spot that made his leg kick. He clenched his teeth, trying not to let out a pleased yelp.

Her hands got lower, and Augustus had to clench his fist in order to gain some control where his mind was going. There was a part of him that told him that things wouldn’t have been so bad if they had “another round,” per se. He shook the thoughts out of his head.

He could only utter, “No,” which had caused her hand to move away from him slightly. The mountain lion raised an eyebrow.

“Are you sure?” The mountain lion leaned toward him, slowly blowing the smoke from her cigar in his face. Something told him that it wasn’t regular smoke, so he held his breath and closed his eyes, waiting for the wafting cloud to pass by.

The mountain lion bit her lip. “Smart wolf. Of course, ‘special’ chemicals is far from the only talent you know I have.” She then straddled his lap, facing him. The sweet fumes from her cigar still emanated from her clothes.

The wolf shut his eyes, his fists still clenched. He looked her directly in the eyes as he grunted, “What. Do. You. Want.”

She slowly rubbed his chest, adjusting herself as she sat on him. “Isn’t it obvious, Augustus?” She leaned closer to him, whispering, “I want you.”

Just then, two pairs of arms appeared near Augustus’s, lifting his arms when his own power seemed to have failed him. He pushed her by the shoulders, the mountain lion reaching for the top of the chair before falling on her back.

Disembodied spirits literally lifted the wolf up, a rhino on his right and an onyx on his left. The rhino spoke, “She did the same thing to us. Take the fight back to her.”

Newfound courage blazed within Augustus’s heart. A part of him wondered why these spirits didn’t help him before, but he knew this wasn’t the time to question things.

A dark purple aura enveloped him as he took three steps toward the supine mountain lion, the same color right then a glowing, dominant shade in his eyes. With one breath, the spirits became visible to the mountain lion, the rhino cracking his knuckles.

“It’s payback time, witch!” spoke the onyx in a raspy voice, balling his fists and shadowboxing beside Augustus.

The mountain lion only raised an eyebrow. “Oh, my, isn’t this a treat?” she cooed, coquettishly biting her lip as her eyes flitted from one victim to another. “I’m afraid you won’t want to have your friends touch me, Gussy-poo...”

Augustus breathed heavily, his snout scrunching in rage. “Why shouldn’t they? It’s the least you deserve.”

The mountain lion breathed out a puff of smoke, and the lights went out suddenly. The light from the disembodied spirits was enough for Augustus to see her lift her shirt from the bottom, exposing her stomach. A small light had shone in the darkness, faintly pulsating in brightness.

Like a heartbeat.

“N-no...” Augustus stepped back, the dark aura around him fading. The spirit rhino and onyx at his sides had both backed off as well.

“Sorry, boss...I’m not messing with that!” The onyx absconded from the scene, while the rhino sighed wordlessly before disappearing.

“Mess with what?” Augustus tried to ask the onyx, but his temporary companions were long gone.

The mountain lion rose to her feet, stepping toward Augustus and gently pushing him back down in his seat. She slowly straddled him again, holding his wrist and making him rub her slightly distended belly.

“You know what this means, don’t you?” Her voice would have sounded ecstatic had she not been so insidious. “This is your child--our child--growing within me. That light I felt when your seed first entered me has only grown since then.” She giggled. “I just get this giddy feeling coming from it..after the morning sickness, of course.”

The same feeling of being restrained had returned to Augustus, only to a much higher degree. Not only was his rapist still alive, but she was also pregnant. There were still primal desires in him that called for her destruction, but another life was at stake there.

He couldn’t bring himself to threaten the life of the unborn bastard child no matter what the circumstances were. However, he also knew that apprehending the mountain lion would have been useless; someone with her influence would escape jail time in no time flat.

The mortal courts were out of the question entirely, but was there a chance the supernatural courts could have helped? The mountain lion was a supernatural, but surely there could have been warlocks better-equipped to handle such a singular case...without any falsified stories to hinder justice’s progress, of course.

The mountain lion’s cold lips against his had broken his stream of thought. He tried willing the spirits--any spirits--to come to his aid to protect him from unsolicited affection. But none appeared.

Her kiss was deep, unsettling, causing the very fiber of his being to shudder with desperate protest. She put her hands on his face, letting out a slight moan to titillate the wolf. Augustus knew he was in a position of weakness from whatever chemicals he happened to breathe in, because if he lifted his arms, his hands would travel to...very problematic regions. His only hope for self-control lay within the hands of fate alone once more.

The mountain lion slowly broke up her extended, unrequited kiss and looked Augustus in the eye, or tried to. It was as if the wolf looked away from her eyes for fear of being subjected into another magical trance. “Still...something troubles me, Gussy-poo.” She got closer to Augustus’s face, the wolf closing his eyes and turning his head. “What is your relationship to the Philadelphia Witch?”

His breath caught in his throat. He waited an adequate second before responding, “I don’t have any relationship with her.”

“None at all?” She raised her eyebrows as if begging to know the truth.

“None.” It was more than half the truth. There was no familial bond between the wolf and the mongoose. If one were to ask either one, the mongoose may have claimed that she was friends with him for whatever reason, but the wolf would have been right there to refute that claim.

“Really? So why is it that I’m hearing whispers...” She summoned her phone in her hand with a puff of wispy purple smoke, “of the Philadelphia Witch with your wife?” She showed him a picture of Colette and Annette speaking with Marissa at the coffee shop.

Augustus’s eyes widened at the sight, but then regained some composure. “How do I know that picture is real?”

“Oh, just a couple hundred posts showcasing the Philadelphia Witch around the world...just that day. I did a little bit of research, Augustus...there’s a long line history between your wife and the Witch in the supernatural world. I’d hate for something like this to be leaked to the general public. Imagine what it would do to her family’s business, and your family’s public image, when people know they’ve hired a magical mercenary to get rid of some competition at Chion.”

Augustus shook his head. “I swear to you, we never hired her!”

“It looks as if someone doesn’t like us being together, Augustus. Based on what I’ve heard, you’ve seemed so sad when we were away from each other. But I can make sure...” another smoky breath left her, catching Augustus off-guard, the wolf breathing it in fully, “they don’t have to be in our way again.”

His heart rate increased dramatically, his hands autonomously running up and down her body. He looked her in the eye for a split second before willing some strength to resist caressing her. “What are you going to do to them?”

“’Them?’ What would it matter what I did to the Witch? You wouldn’t ask that unless...you did know her.”

He tried to lie, but the chemicals in her smoke had slowly eroded his inhibitions just as the tampered drink did at the summit. “Y...yes. I know her.” His face trembled as he tried to break the increased focus of her femininity.

The mountain lion raised an eyebrow. “So the truth comes out. You’re familiar with the one responsible for killing my colleague as well.” She scrolled right and showed him a picture of Marissa’s body on the road...or what was left of it after having been run over twice. “Such a thing can be construed as a threat against me. Do you want to kill me, Augustus?”

“...Yes.”

What? No! There was no hiring process involved! In his attempt to say no, Augustus had let out an affirmative response instead. It seemed that this vapor-based “truth toxin” in her smoky breaths didn’t just force him to tell the truth, but rather whatever she wanted to hear.

“Why would you want to do this to me?” The mountain lion put on an air of shocked surprise, as if she was performing for an audience.

“It...it was Annette’s idea...” That he could have inferred while sober. “She must have tried to...get an edge over competing businesses with Colette.”

“Colette...is this the name of the Philadelphia Witch?”

“...Yes...”

The mountain lion smiled. “There. Was that so hard?” Another wispy breath of smoke had caused him to black out.

#mage's ultimatum #newnerdgeneration #augustus

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comicteaparty · 4 years

Text

June 13th-June 19th, 2020 Creator Babble Archive

The archive for the Creator Babble chat that occurred from June 13th, 2020 to June 19th, 2020. The chat focused on the following question:

What is your physical and digital workspace like when you’re working on your story?

🌈ERROR404 🌈

LOL it really depends on what stage I'm in of the process - My storyboarding space is at home, as comfortable as I can be, a beer and some food at the ready and pure silence. The cats have to be freshly fed, otherwise I'll be harassed and lose my headspace entirely LOL. I usually work on my story boards digitally, just at a very small scale, with my script/outline on my computer and working on my ipad! The double screen helps a LOT, although i would just print out the script if I had access to a printer, haha. When I'm working on the actual page itself, it's a very different story. I usually just try and work on it in tiny little batches during the day when I'm stuck at home, and usually work around the animals as best i can, lmao. Truthfully, I really prefer to be in a coffee shop when I'm working on finishing pages, it makes me so much more productive than i am in this house with so many things to take care of right in front of me, but, obviously, that's a bit difficult to do these days. ;; I usually reserve food and drink until after I pass a milestone in inking/sketching to help motivate me to keep going for as much as I can before taking a break, and I need some kind of music or video playing in the background to keep myself from being absolutely bored out of my mind. My shading process, since it's in black and white, is very easy and i can finish it in one setting, easy, no matter what I'm working with. I also work digitally for my pages, of course, although I don't need more than my ipad and clip studio for it!

DaeofthePast

freshly fed cats

🌈ERROR404 🌈

They are BEASTS when hungry, the little bastards (love them)

I may only work in peace when they're post-food napping lmao

DaeofthePast

we only have one, but same

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

I work almost entirely in the corner of my IKEA couch at home I used to work at a proper desk with a Cintiq, but when I switched to Procreate on an iPad, I migrated to the couch and surrounded myself with a nest of clothes and blankets and books and... here I am, bein' cozy. With terrible posture But when I was between jobs last year, I did rent a little coworking space down the street so I could get out of my pajamas and go get comic stuff done there. It was a godsend. I like drawing at my favorite coffee shop every so often too, but I tend to hide my work while I draw, and there, everyone can look over my shoulder The coworking space had a tall artist desk that was rarely used, so I often grabbed that one. Not cheap, but to stave off cabin fever, heck yes, worth it.

🌈ERROR404 🌈

Ahhh I've been really thinking about getting a studio space one of these days I really shouldn't rn, with my finances as they are, but I could REALLY make use of one recently

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

I loved the space I used last year. They recently had to close for... current-event reasons... and are going to reopen with all sorts of plexiglass barriers between the desks I feel so bad for them. Good studio spaces are wonderful, I would support them again if I ever was out of a job!

🌈ERROR404 🌈

it's good they've found ways to make it safer, though!

carcarchu

My old workspace was in the basement of my home in canada and it was always perpetually freezing even in the summer and i was frequently visited by spiders so my current workspace is a huge improvement in that regard. I do miss my old ergonomic desk chair though. I'm definitely not the kind of person who can draw in bed or on the couch. I need to be in workmode and having a designated space just for that is necessary for me to get in the right headspace for that.

DaeofthePast

my workspace rn is just my desk with my laptop and my drawing tablet. my laptop is stacked on top of a pile of books so i can see the screen (otherwise my tablet blocks my line of sight). it's kinda simple

chalcara [Nyx+Nyssa]

Depends. I have a Cintiq Mobile Studio, so I can draw pretty much every where and sometimes in the oddest position, but most of the time I am on my desk with the cintiq hooked up to a second monitor so I don't have to look down so much.(edited)

Holmeaa - working on WAYFINDERS

For Wayfinders: Thumbnails are somewhere cozy and the only physical work. Me and Q sit and plan them out together. The rest of wayfinders are made on Photoshop, and flat colors in clip paint studio. In the world I would love a nice studio place in an office with others. During corentine I have been working from home, and I am not that good at it, being quite the extrovert. Before corentine I was in a artist residency where I worked on Wayfinders which had a workstation and all the programs we could need. It is so nice and me and Q are going to return there when it opens up again!

Miranda

I have an iPad so usually on the couch, cozied up with coffee and pillows and blankets. But sometimes at the table. But usually on the couch like the gremlin I am

FeatherNotes(Krispy)

I have a large drafting table, a mini drafting table, and a lapdesk in my papasan when we ink/draw! Toning and letters are all done on the desktop in its own space

Miranda

I need to get a good lap desk. But that sounds like a grand setup!

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

My first time hearing about a lapdesk

Omg I need one

FeatherNotes(Krispy)

They are the best things ever Mine has just the pencil holder !(some come with cup holders and its a waste of space imo)

Joichi [Hybrid Dolls]

Wow I like your setup of the drafting tables

FeatherNotes(Krispy)

I wanna show pics of them....if im allowed in this chat?

Joichi [Hybrid Dolls]

I hope so, I'm not sure which channel we can post studio photos at? I did see some did before?

FeatherNotes(Krispy)

Ill post in shop talk since creator babble gets archived

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

my current space is uh.... a bit better than my last one. I used to work on an old writers desk for a decade and I did most of my comic work sitting there cramped up with my desktop taking most of the space. Now I have an L shaped desk where I have my desktop on the shorter end. The longer end it's my pen, pencils, and watercolor stuff. my display tablet occupy the space at times so switching from digital and traditional without worrying about setup hassle is a lot better than what I dealt with before lol.

I'm glad the days I had to curl up and draw with no privacy are long gone now

kayotics

I’ve got a little drafting table where I draw all my comic pages. I’m messy with my pens so they’re kind of strewn about until I start to lose them. Then I put them back. I’m not particularly neat. I spend most of the comic process off the computer, so most of my digital work is just on an iPad where I can sit anywhere. I try to keep good lighting around my drafting table and there’s always loose eraser shavings all over.

Natasha Berlin (Pot of Gold)

I got myself a lil corner desk by the dining table. Not as well-lit as I'd like, but it's decently ergonomic and I started putting posters on my wall Plus I can leave work mindset easily by turning off my computer and forgetting about the dark corner in the dining room XD(edited)

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

My desk is really sloppy and covered in all kinds of junk. I have a harmonica, a ball of yarn, a bunch of ink bottles, etc on my desk. I have my sketchbook under my tablet and usually a notebook somewhere for writing. My tablet sits to the right of my laptop (on top of sketchbook) while I'm not using it and when I'm using it it goes over my computer keyboard. I sometimes have a glass of water or some food sitting to the lefthand side

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

The only thing I wanna share about my workspace is this

once i spent over three hours looking for that damned pen

never again

🌈ERROR404 🌈

Ajkdhfkjs the models for hte magazine im crying

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Oh my God

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

mad giggling

Deo101 [Millennium]

youre gonna manage to lose the string

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

omg

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

i know in my heart deo is right but still i hope

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

You should weld a metal chain to it

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Watch me lose the whole tablet

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Oh nooo

I believe in you!

TaliePlume

My workspace is a black table with a white, yellow, blue and green tablecloth with 3 black chairs. It's next to the kitchen. On it, is my laptop and the left side is my clipboard, 3 blue folders full of writing. Then above it, is 3 sketchbooks and another blue folder from a class that I took in community college.

June 16, 2020

sagaholmgaard

I have one long desk at almost three meters. On the left side is all my coffee and tea supplies, in the middle is my work space and on the right is my dining table xD I get everything done from there, despite having a mobilestudio so I COULD sit anywhere and work, lol. It's a blessing during holiday seasons to be able to bring it everywhere, but at some I like my designated working space. Although I am moving in a few weeks, so who knows what my new workspace will be

Moral_Gutpunch

My workspace is anywhere I can draw or write. It's more of a "Will I be interrupted over something petty or stupid" issue than space. Not that I don't want more space.

Mitzi (Trophallaxis)

My workspace is a big, broken corner desk I managed to lug out of an old apartment when it was gonna be trashed. Before then, I'd just draw in bed. I don't remember, but I'm pretty sure the folding chair I sit at is a similar affair. It's got a Dollar General throw pillow on it so I can at least say I'm trying to save my back. The top of the desk is a mess of mostly old bottles and cans, pencils, incense ash, and my old tarot deck. I love this setup dearly. This is the first time I've ever had my own desk space, much less a space I can decorate or leave as messy as I want. Got my own art up on the walls with sticky tack and all! Also the cat's scratching post is directly behind me, because we've learned the cat won't use it unless it's as in the way as possible. What can ya do, lol.

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Oh cats...

Desnik

I got spoiled with an adjustable desk. It is six feet long, and has a whiteboard top for noodling with dry erase markers

my main computer is set up on an adjustable stand so it floats over the desk, and then I have my cintiq, which we tried to mount on a similar stand but then it was just too heavy

I keep my dice collection nearby because fidgeting helps think things through sometimes

and rolling to make odd decisions never hurts

lately during the quarantine I've been sharing the office with my spouse so we've had to establish rules over when it's okay to bug each other(edited)

oh yeah and we also have a whiteboard installed in the office, and it rules!(edited)

Shizamura 🌟 O Sarilho

Mine is pretty simple: I have a laptop that's long stopped being portable and is now mostly just sitting at my desk at all times and a 19 inch Ugee as my display. I usually keep a lot of stuff on top of my desk, but it's mostly just a mess because I have been using it for work too for a while now

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

I suppose I'll talk about my setup too :) My main setup is where I do digital art. I share an office with my SO, so we both have workspaces on opposite walls from each other. I work on a corner desk that holds my beefy computer, two monitors, and a Huion Kamvas GT-191. That's where I draw my comic and pretty much everything else done digitally. Ngl, it's a mess right now. I have comic notes and location floor plans in sketchbooks and DnD character sheets spread out all over the surface, and random pens and sticky notes. In the corner of the room, we have a nice large-format printer where I produce prints for conventions. I actually sketch my pages on an iPad pro in Procreate, so during the sketch phase, sometimes I'll just bundle up on my couch and do it, or before quarantine, sometimes I'd sketch on the go. My other workspace (which hasn't gotten much love as of late tbh) is a drafting table in the corner of our living room. I keep a tabletop easel on it and my Copic markers, as well as whatever I'm working on at the moment. (RN it's some ink washes.) The drawers hold all my ink, pencils, erasers, etc. Next to the drafting table is where I keep all my large charcoal, graphite, and oil pastel drawings (mostly school projects), and my large paintings. Other than that, I have a nifty little cart where I keep painting supplies :) I will say, this setup is by far an enormous improvement from my previous setups.

#ctparchive #comics #webcomics #indie comics #comic chat #comic discussion #comic tea party #ctp #creator interview #comic creator interview #creator babble

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marshmallowgoop · 5 years

Note

You definitely shouldn’t worry about the quality of your work, because from my (and I assume all of your followers) perspective, you are producing 10/10 content all the time! Anyway I like asking questions so if you don’t mind, what are your hobbies, how do you spend your free time?

At work, there’s this stack of the same poetry book sitting on a table in the office. They’re up for grabs, totally for the taking, and so one of my coworkers says, “It wouldn’t be free if it were good.”

I can’t say I fully agree with the sentiment; there’s plenty of free stuff that I’d call good. But it’s something I think about a lot.

Thank you for finding my free content worthwhile.

But on this note, I’d be interested in what others consider to be their favorite essay of mine? I worry about quality, but maybe what’s more important is making more work that more people find enjoyable, and I only really know my own head. Having an idea of what to make more of would be useful information to have.

As for hobbies, I feel like I’ve lost a lot of them as I’ve gotten older. I used to love to draw (it was actually my biggest contribution to fandoms for a while), but now I haven’t picked up a tablet pen in over a year. I used to play a lot of music, but I just got a keyboard for Christmas and almost cried at how I can’t even really play “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” with an Alberti bass anymore. (“If you don’t use it, you lose it” is so real.) I used to love to run, but now the only running I do is running late (but, like, I do mean literally running, lol).

There are hobbies I want to bring back into my life (hence the keyboard), but these days, most of my free time is spent sleeping and zoning out ^^; I guess I write a fair amount for this blog, though, and I like cooking (but not the cleaning-up part) and cosplaying (but not the messes that making them produces). I also recently got back into video games and am going to be competing in Kill la Kill at Frosty Faustings next week!

#Anonymous #replies #shut up goop #goop makes a personal post #i've been thinking about starting a ko-fi but i'm just like #'who am i to ask money for this stuff?#why would i deserve that?'#sigh #anyway i also got a ps4 because i'm spoiled so if anyone wants to play ps4 klk i need all the practice i can get for frosty #there aren't a lot of players but i still want top 4 lol

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malecsecretsanta · 6 years

Text

Merry Christmas, @Parabitri!

This idea turned out to be far more angsty than anything I usually write but it insisted on being written. I love the way Magnus and Alec always find their way back to each other, no matter what universe you put them into.

This is their Hallmark-style Christmas Story - I hope you enjoy it!

Read on AO3

******

This Christmas

Chapter 1

I remember,

I wish I could forget

What you did last December

You left my heart a mess.

- Ariana Grande (& George Michael), Last Christmas

~ The Present: 22nd December 2018 ~

“Are you sure Alec won’t mind?” Magnus asked for what had to be the fourth time that morning as he followed Izzy inside the apartment she and Alec shared.

“When has Alec ever said no to you?” Izzy threw over her shoulder with a wink as she opened Alec’s bedroom door and sauntered in.

“Well, there was that whole morning after the Yule Ball fiasco,” Magnus muttered to himself, dragging his feet as he followed Izzy.

“Besides,” Izzy said as she flopped down on Alec’s bed apparently oblivious to Magnus’ dark comments, “You and I both know, Alec’s the only person who has an early enough edition of Gray’s Anatomy to feature the illustrations you need.”

“They’re too valuable for any libraries to stock before about the 18th edition,” Magnus agreed with a sigh as he approached Alec’s bookshelves brushing his fingers lightly over the soft leather spine, tracing the gilded letters which identified it as a hallowed second edition.

“You said you’ve tried every other option, Magnus, and your essay is due in tonight. It’s not like you can just call and ask him. Even if by some miracle he isn’t still in the remote mountain villages in Timor-Leste then he’ll be in transit. You know as well as I do that any time he gets funded flights it means he’s on a stopping all stations round the world tour of obscure airports. Even if you managed to get a message to him, there’s no guarantee he’d be able to get an answer back in time.”

“I know,” Magnus sighed easing the book gently out from between its neighbours and cradling it close to his chest. He wanted Alec home but he also half-dreaded the idea that the tension that had grown like a wedge between them might still be there. “Thank you, Isabelle. I guess I’d better go finish my essay. You’ll let me know if you hear from him?”

“Of course! Hopefully this time he’ll remember to let us know before he boards the last plane so we can meet him at the airport, I know Max is dying to use the latest sign he’s made.”

Magnus laughed, thinking of Max’s ever-expanding stack of ‘Welcome Home Alec’ signs. At this point, they’d need to bring everyone they knew in order to hold up even half of them.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

[Throughout human history there have been many iterations of the symbol which represents the human heart. The first non-medical European illustration of the heart is thought to be a drawing accompanying the medieval French poem Le Roman De La Poire circa 1255 however it was not until the early 1500s that the familiar shape made its appearance...

...but why does this symbol bear so little resemblance to the human anatomy it represents? There are plenty of theories, the most prominent one being that most of our ‘knowledge’ of human anatomy in the 13th and 14th centuries was based on animal biology, in particular reptiles, which much more closely resemble the familiar scalloped shape of the heart icon. The ability of early physicians to view or study the human body was fiercely regulated and controlled - with many unable to view a single dissection let alone partake in the kind of labs that are a standard part of modern medical tuition. As such, Henry Gray’s seminal work Gray’s Anatomy, first published in 1858, was a turning point in the depiction of the human heart…]

Magnus' fingers stilled on his keyboard as he glanced again at the book he’d brought back to his apartment almost four hours earlier. It was ridiculous but he still hadn’t opened it. The thing was, he hadn’t told Izzy the whole truth. Yes, this essay was for his History of Medicine subject and accounted for almost a third of his grade but it was also final piece of his application to join Médecins Sans Frontières’ new project, working in the new hospital Alec had spent the past year helping local engineers design and build. Alec would be going back for another whole year to support the development of sustainable water supply for the school and the rest of the village. Following your best friend halfway around the world was madness, especially when things had never been quite the same between them since last year’s Yule Ball.

~ Morning After the Yule Balle: 19th December 2017 ~

Magnus came to slowly, groaning as he peeled gritty eyes open just long enough to take in the couch and apartment around him before squeezing them shut again. It wasn’t the first time since becoming friends with the Lightwoods three years earlier that he’d woken up on their sofa but the blinding headache was new. So was the fact that he couldn’t for the life of him remember how he’d gotten back here. He barely remembered any of the Yule Ball. Burying his head further in the soft pillows Magnus vowed never to mix first-generation antihistamines and alcohol again.

“Breakfast?”

Magnus’ eyes snapped open his lips curling at the corners as he took in the sight of Alec setting a breakfast tray on the coffee table beside him. The man really was an angel sometimes.

“I figured you’d need something to help wash down the aspirin,” Alec said, smiling back as he reached over and placed two pills on Magnus’ palm, following it with a glass of water.

“My hero,” Magnus said, downing the tablets and finally tearing his eyes from Alec and focusing on the food in front of him. “You made me blueberry pancakes, Alexander? That’s not exactly standard hangover fare. If you were anyone else I’d think you were trying to seduce me with your culinary skills.”

Magnus grinned at the way Alec’s cheeks heated at the suggestion and he became suddenly fascinated with his boots. Whatever the cause, Magnus wasn’t complaining - in fact, he almost moaned as he took that first blissful bite of pancake. Alec really would make an excellent husband to someone one of these days. Too bad there wasn’t any handy mistletoe or he might...Magnus’ thoughts ground to a sudden halt as he suddenly remembered kissing someone under the mistletoe last night at the ball. It hadn’t been a typical crappy holiday season hook-up either, it had been incredible. He found himself describing it to Alec as he ate: the way her lips had felt against his, passionate and wild yet somehow also tender as if she couldn’t decide whether she wanted to devour Magnus or worship him. The way her fingers had tightened in his hair, tugging roughly to adjust the angle of his head, deepening the kiss, only for those same clever fingers to send shivers of pure pleasure as they massaged away any last traces of pain. The worst part was, despite remembering every tiny detail of the kiss, he had no memory of the person who’d done the kissing.

“Please Alec, you were there last night you have to help me find her!” Magnus said, looking up beseechingly at his best friend only to realise something was wrong.

At some point during his monologue, the blushing, solicitous angel who’d made him breakfast had been replaced by a stone statue.

“You remember the kiss but don’t remember the-the-the person, at all?” Alec asked harshly his fists clenching at his sides.

Magnus flinched, feeling suddenly ashamed even though he didn’t know why it was such a big deal to Alec if Magnus’ memory had decided to defy logic. Before he’d had a chance to ask, Alec had turned away, his shoulders tense as he’d gathered up the remnants of Magnus’ now cold breakfast.

Tray in hand he’d barely looked at Magnus as he’d apologised, “I can’t do this, Magnus. I-I-I thought -” Alec sighed sounding frustrated but resigned. “I’ve got that application for Engineers Without Borders to finish.”

Magnus tried to get up and follow him into the kitchen but the world still spun horribly when he attempted to stand and he was forced to sit again so he didn’t fall down. The last thing he needed was for an already grumpy Alec to have to bandage his head when he split it open on the sharp corner of his coffee table. Impatiently, he waited for Alec to reappear, which took considerably longer than Magnus had expected.

When at least he came out he headed straight for the door his bag already slung over his shoulder giving every appearance of intending to leave without another word.

“Alec?” Magnus called out after him, wishing his head would stop pounding long enough for him to figure out whatever this was.

Alec turned, his hand resting on the door handle still refusing to meet Magnus’ eyes. “I have to go. Feel free to stay as long as you need.” And then he walked out, closing the door firmly behind him.

Magnus had waited, half expecting at any moment that his best friend would come back and tell him what exactly he’d said that upset him so much. After over an hour, Magnus had to accept the unwelcome fact that Alec wasn’t coming back. He wasn’t answering any of Magnus’ messages either. He knew he was being selfish, knew how important that application was to Alec even though the thought of them being on opposite sides of the globe sounded miserable to Magnus all of a sudden. It would be the first time in almost three years since Izzy and Magnus had met on their first day of med school that they’d have to go more than a few weeks without seeing one another. At present, barely a day went past that they didn’t speak, one way or another, whether it was IM, in person or notes passed via Izzy.

Despite Alec’s continued refusal to discuss anything about the Yule Ball, Magnus had kept looking - amazed to discover that despite there having been hundreds of people at the ball, somehow no one had seen Magnus spending time with any women other than Dot, Cat and Izzy and he was absolutely certain it hadn’t been any of them. He’d even tried to convince the photographer to go through their shots from last night only to discover to that the man was crazy enough to still be using film and hadn’t had time to get the negatives developed yet. Rolling his eyes at the pretentiousness of art students in general, Magnus had hunted on in vain.

~ The Present: 22nd December 2018 ~

Magnus sighed, running his fingers over the soft leather cover of Gray’s Anatomy. He could still remember the first time Alec had shown it to him. It had been a gift from his grandfather on his mother’s side, the same one that was responsible for Alec’s middle name being ‘Gideon’. He’d apparently been convinced, despite Alec’s complete lack of interest in medicine, that book that had been in their family for generations would inspire Alec to become the next doctor in the family. The meticulous technical drawings the book was famous had inspired him just not to follow in his grandfather’s footsteps. He’d taken his love of the book’s illustrations and developed a fascination for cartography, drafting and surveying, finally settling on a career in engineering. Izzy had told Magnus that Alec had offered her the book when she’d first set her heart on doing medicine but she’d knew she’d never love it the way Alec did. She wanted the modern textbooks, the ones filled with gory colour photographs of real bodies, not the elegant etchings done over a hundred and fifty years earlier.

Magnus, by contrast, had happily indulged Alec’s passion and they’d spent hours pouring through the book together over the years every time Magnus had happened to need to reference one or other of the illustrations as he learnt about the body’s various structures and systems. As much as he’d adored it when Alec bought him a modern copy of Gray’s Anatomy for his birthday he always defaulted back to Alec’s copy with its incredible single-colour woodcut illustrations whenever he could. The text might mostly have become redundant has as medical knowledge changed fundamentally and rapidly over the past century but the illustrations were as important now as they’d ever been.

He missed Alec. Magnus hadn’t realised how much he’d relied on his presence until his absence left a gaping hole in his life. It’s been almost a year and Alec is still the first person he wants to tell whenever anything happens. He might finally have stopped getting his phone out and staring out compose texts he can’t send but it still aches everytime he remembers Alec’s sat-phone is for emergencies only. Going from talking every day to exchanging infrequent emails had felt worse than some of his breakups. Then again, for the last few years, he’s always had Alec there helping him pick up the pieces whenever a relationship inevitably failed. He’d always scoffed at the adage ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’ but it’s been 355 days since Alec left and he’s sitting at his desk hours before an important assignment is due incapable of completing it because he doesn’t want to open a book that would remind him too much of the man he wants, more than anything else, this Christmas. Too bad he felt certain Alec didn’t feel the same way about him.

Sighing, Magnus opened the cover and scanned the index of illustrations for the one he was looking for. There, under the heading ‘Heart’, the illustration he’d looked everywhere for: ‘Circulation of Blood in an Adult’ directing him to page six hundred and twenty-nine. Picking up the tome Magnus started at the middle and skimmed gently through the pages, slowing when he finally reached the six-hundreds to turn each individual page so as not to miss it. Magnus nearly dropped the book in surprise when he turned the final page and a colour photograph slides out onto the desk.

A single glance is enough to make him forget Gray’s Anatomy, forget the essay he has only hours left to finish and the application he needs to ace. On the desk in front of him is a photograph from last year’s Yule Ball. A photo of him and Alec wrapped tightly in one another’s arms, kissing under the mistletoe.

Chapter 2

I confess,

I loved you more than I let on but you weren’t ready for it and I wasn’t going to pour myself into hands that couldn’t hold me

- Lauren Eden, Of Yesteryear

~ The Present: 22nd December 2018 ~

Having seen the photo, Magnus wonders how he could possibly have forgotten. He’s spent an entire year comparing every kiss he shared to this one, like Prince Charming with his stupid glass slipper, finding them woefully disappointing by contrast. The thing was, with the exception of giants like Alec, he was tall so it hadn’t occurred to him why the angle always felt off - no matter what he tried. God, he was such an idiot! How could he have ignored what was right in front of him all this time? And why hadn’t Alec said something? But as soon as that thought occurred to him, he knew exactly why.

Who in their right mind would confess when the object of their affection not only didn’t remember them but had also somehow misgendered them in the process. Magnus felt physically ill as their conversation the next morning replayed in his head with full 5.1 surround sound, complete with high definition technicolour images of Alec’s transformation from breakfast baring angel to the stony-faced statue he’d been by the time he left the apartment. The fact Alec had hidden the photo here, in his most treasured book under the heading ‘Heart’ made the tears that had welled up unnoticed spill out over his cheeks.

With shaking fingers Magnus picked the photo up off the desk, the knife in his heart twisting as he realised they were both smiling as they kissed. Steeling himself, he flipped the photo drawing in a sharp breath as he saw the inscription in Alec’s familiar all-caps handwriting and in smaller text printed directly onto the photo, the photographer's details.

‘A NIGHT TO REMEMBER’ MAGNUS BANE & ALEC LIGHTWOOD YULE BALL 18TH DEC 2017

PHOTOGRAPHER: J. GHAMSARI - EDITION: 1/1 - PRINTED: 24TH DEC 2017

He’d thought nothing could make this situation worse, but one glance at the date the photo had been printed made Magnus want the ground to open beneath his feet to transport him straight to hell. Alec had tried to tell him and Magnus had unintentionally broken his heart a second time instead. By the time Magnus had realised his mistake, Alec had already left the country.

~ December 24th, 2017 ~

Magnus groaned when he heard the doorbell, it would probably be carollers but as the only person home the night before Christmas Magnus had promised his housemates he wouldn’t let any last minute parcels go unsigned for. Snatching his shirt up from where it lay discarded beside the sofa and buttoning it haphazardly Magnus made his way down the long passage to the front door, stunned to see it was Alec standing on the sill, a thick manilla envelope clasped in one hand.

“Alec, what are you doing here? I thought you would have gone back home for what’s left of the holidays,” Magnus said noticing the way Alec’s eyes lingered on his exposed chest a beat longer than they usually would before darting away.

“It’s - uh, it’s about last week,” Alec paused, threading his fingers roughly through his hair in that familiar tell of mental agitation. “Look, you’ve got every reason to be mad at me. The next morning, after the Yule Ball - I know I should have-”

“Allowed me to drag you halfway ‘round NYU on a wild goose chase when neither of us had any idea who we were looking for?” Magnus interrupted smoothly, laughing softly. “I should never have asked, Alec, I know how important getting that internship application in was to you. Besides, it doesn’t matter now anyway.”

“It doesn’t?” Alec asked roughly, his gaze piercing as he froze in place.

“Surely you know me better than to think I’d let it rest until I found out, Alexander?”

“You - you’ve remembered?” Alec asked, looking suddenly paler.

“Not exactly. But Camille - you remember her from the presentation night for the Medical Prize, don’t you? She found out I was looking for her and admitted she’d been my mysterious stranger all along. Apparently, my crush wasn’t so unrequited after all. So you see, it’s all worked out. She’s coming around later tonight if you wanted to stay and meet her?”

“No.”

Magnus’ head snapped back, surprised by the vehemence in that single word but before he had a chance to do more than raise an eyebrow, Alec had continued.

“I mean, I’d be interrupting your evening plans. I should let you -” Alec paused again, his teeth sinking into his lip almost hard enough to draw blood. “I have to go. Merry Christmas, Magnus.”

“Wait, Alec!” Magnus called out, hating this sudden chill between them as Alec turned away. “Surely you didn’t just come here to apologise. You should stay, have a drink with me. It is Christmas after all.”

“I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Well, can you at least tell me when we’re catching up next?” Magnus asked, suddenly feeling the need to make sure he hadn’t somehow irrevocably ruined the friendship without even realising it. “I know you had planned to spend Christmas and New Year's Eve with your family but seeing as you’re still here...”

“Actually, I, um. I got offered the internship with Engineers Without Borders,” Alec muttered, shifting his feet.

“Alexander! That’s fantastic, now you have to come in and have a drink with me, tell me all about it. Where they’re sending you, for how long - I want to know everything!” Instinctive Magnus reached out, tugging on the arm of Alec’s long black coat. It hurt when instead of smiling Alec pulled away.

“I fly out January 1st. I’ll be gone all year. It’s - I’ll be living in one of the mountain villages in Timor-Leste, they’ve got a new project to build a hospital there and if things go well, I can stay to work on securing the town’s water supply the year after. They said they’d try and get me back in time for next Christmas. So I - um - I have to go. You know, packing and everything.”

Every other time Alec’s said anything about the project his passion had been radiant, which meant these clipped sentences and flat tone had to be Magnus’ fault. Magnus cursed the Yule Ball, cursed the fact he couldn’t even abandon his plans with Camille because he hadn’t thought to get her number. Cursed the fact he was meant to be going away with Cat and Ragnor to have New Year's Eve at Cat’s family’s Chalet. So this was it? Alec was leaving the country in a few days for an entire year and Magnus wouldn’t get to see him again till next Christmas?

“At least let me take you out to the airport, Alec,” Magnus said, throwing caution to the wind and jettisoning his New Year's plans.

“But-” Alec began, displaying that adorable furrowed brow of his.

“Nothing is more important than seeing my best friend off on the trip of a lifetime,” Magnus assured him. “I’ll be at that airport whether you let me drive you or not. I’m not below blackmailing Izzy into telling me so you may as well just accept it.”

Alec’s rueful smile was like sunshine, the man he recognised peeking out from behind the rigid facade he was putting up.

“You really want to get up at six in the morning just to see me off at the gate?” Alec asked, raising a challenging eyebrow.

“I’ll be on your doorstep at five,” Magnus shot back, his lips automatically curling to match Alec’s.

“If you’re late I’m leaving without you,” Alec threatened sliding back into their familiar banter without even seeming to realise he was doing it.

“Okay.”

“Okay. You’re on.” Alec nodded, holding Magnus’ gaze before saying softly, “Merry Christmas, Magnus.”

“Merry Christmas, Alexander.”

~ The Present: 22nd December 2018 ~

Magnus needed a drink.

His crush on Camille had been madness and she’d played him for the fool he was. She’d strung him along for almost 3 weeks after ‘confessing’ to being his mysterious mistletoe kiss. She’d made a game out of kissing him everywhere except his lips, correctly assuming that he’d realise the minute their lips met that something was off. He’d been so caught up in wanting it to be her, wanting to believe that she felt the way he did about her. But even she’d tired of that game eventually, laughing at his naivety when she’d finally revealed she hadn’t even noticed him at the Yule Ball, she’d just thought it would be fun to see how long she could string him along because surely the top medical student couldn’t be that stupid? Well, apparently he was. He’d spilled the whole humiliating affair out in one of his emails to Alec. It makes perfect sense now that Alec had barely referenced the whole mess when he’d finally replied over a week later. Then again, it wasn’t like Alec had super reliable internet at the best of times, so it could also be that Magnus was projecting.

Getting up, Magnus paced over to the drinks cart, skipping his usual ice and pouring whiskey liberally into the waiting tumbler. Tossing it back in a single swallow Magnus tried to figure out what to do. It’s been a whole year since that photograph had been taken, it’d hardly be surprising if the intervening time had been enough to thoroughly destroy whatever feelings Alec might once have had for him. Did he really want to risk destroying their friendship a second time?

Yes.

The answer was immediate. He was in love with Alexander Lightwood and he had to know if there was any chance to make this work. Hell, he’d been prepared to follow the man to the other side of the world without the tiniest shred of real evidence to justify his hopes, now at least he knew it was possible. There had been real passion in that kiss and tenderness in the breakfast he’d made for him the next morning. He just hoped Alec was willing to give him a chance to show just how much he wanted that future.

To Be Continued

#Parabitri #malecsanta18 #*fics18 #*gifts18

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aviyinglet · 5 years

Text

OK, the stream from yesterday is up! It's 4 hours, 48 minutes of my 2D creative process from the essential messing-with-the-OS step to the concept, layout, sketch, and base colors. I'll be doing another of these very soon:

youtube

This video was done by hooking my laptop to my Elgato Game Capture HD; I did it this way because I wanted to depict the complete experience of using the Puppy Linux OS and Krita to draw an image.

The operating system is capable of running entirely from RAM; it loads up a save file on startup (up to 4GB in size, at least how I have it configured) and saves to it every 30 minutes or so. It's often used as a stopgap OS to recover files from computers with inoperable OS partitions, or to make old computers useful again for low-impact tasks like word processing or web browsing (since modern OSes are so bloated). And while it's useful for breathing life into older PCs (I have a Toshiba NB505 from 2010 this runs well on), I decided to try to use it to make a portable creativity environment. It works pretty well for this, it turns out! Krita runs great, as depicted in the video; my initial tests in Blender have been promising as well. The resulting stick can be booted into from my desktop, laptop, and netbook without disrupting the contents of the attached computer’s built-in hard drive in any way. Instructions on how I did it are after the break.

THIS IS HOW I DID IT:

REQUIREMENTS: A computer capable of running Windows with 2 empty USB ports, and 2 USB flash drives (one at least 1GB, which we'll be calling the "install drive", the other one however large you want your new OS partition to be. Beware, all files on both flash drives at the start will be lost in the process of doing this.)

Download a .iso file of your desired most recent version of Puppy Linux (I used bionicpup64)

Use a program to flash the install drive with the .iso you just downloaded (I used balenaEtcher)

Reboot, enter the BIOS settings of your PC, and boot from the USB stick you just flashed

You should be in Puppy Linux now; check to make sure the basic stuff works (mouse, keyboard, wifi). In my case, my laptop's wifi and trackpad didn't work; I had to connect a mouse, then run the wifi configuration wizard, then run the Puppy Updates application from the menu, after which everything worked as expected.

Insert the second USB stick, run StickPup from the applications menu, and use it to install the same ISO from earlier onto that. MAKE SURE you select the correct drive here

Shut your PC down, remove the install drive, and start it up again, now booting into the second USB stick

Customize to your heart's content; make sure to shut your PC down whenever you're done using it (instead of pressing the power button)

TIPS & TRICKS:

This is a pared-down version of Linux; while it can be used to test the OS out, and is itself capable of all kinds of tasks, it's not fully representative of what a full install of an OS like Linux Mint (which is installed on my desktop and laptop PCs) can do. Many programs require Puppy-specific versions (distributed via the package manager or through '.pet' files) to run correctly. Firefox was one of those for me; the one from the Ubuntu repository didn't play web audio, the one from the Puppy repository did.

The 4GB size limit can be mostly overcome by keeping your portable applications and personal files on the USB stick outside of the Linux install folder. I say “mostly” because non-portable applications still take up disk space within the save file.

Some .deb application installer files work, some require 32-bit compatibility files. These can be found in the Quickpet program in the application menu; Quickpet acts as a short list of non-essential applications that aren’t included in Puppy distros by default.

If you use the USB stick install and don't want your save file filled up immediately, set your web browser to limit the size of the cache (my personal limit is 50MB; in Firefox I had to manually edit the browser.cache.disk.smart.size.enabled and browser.cache.disk.capacity values in about:config to get it to stick).

Krita is distributed in the .appimage format; some appimages can be run just by double-clicking them, but Krita needs some extra work; it can be run from the terminal through the command LD_LIBRARY_PATH= "./krita-4.1.7-x86_64.appimage" from whichever directory it's placed, or by creating a shell script that runs that command and placing it in Krita's directory.

If you use a Wacom tablet, pressure sensitivity is built into the Linux kernel (this is one of the reasons I switched to Linux a year ago in the first place); some distros have button mapping built into the GUI, but with others (Puppy included) you need to use the xsetwacom terminal command. Comprehensive instructions for how to use this are online; I personally manually run this shell script through a desktop shortcut whenever I connect my tablet and I’m good to go.

My Intel graphics card on my laptop (an Acer Aspire E5-573G) presented screen tearing issues; I stopped them by creating a file in /etc/X11/xorg.conf.d called “20-intel.conf” with this text.

If this looks intimidating (and I don’t blame you if it does) -- I promise you, all the above information was retrieved using standard websearching methods; I’d personally say the only limiting factors for whether someone interested in trying this for themself ‘should’ give this a shot are time and patience, but I also realize those are in short supply for a lot of people. Use your best judgment.

#video #text

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vetyr · 7 years

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do you have an idea of a checklist for learning how to create digital art? like i know practice is essential, but i don't really know where to start or where to go from there. thanks so much xox

I think I can toss some stuff out here that might be of use. Assuming an artist learning digital art starts from the beginning–owning a tablet & drawing program but not knowing how to use them–here’s an inconveniently long list of stuff that could help them.

TL;DR: 1, mess around till you’re used to drawing digitally. 2, study and create ad infinitum. 3, a bunch of tips that are pretty hard to TLDR so you should probably just go over em. Step 2 is basically what you asked me NOT to tell you (“practice”!), but unfortunately it’s all I know how to do :,(

1) If you own a tablet that you plug into your computer (i.e., you don’t draw directly on the screen), feel free to spend a few weeks or even a month+ just getting used to it. When you first start out, it’s really freaky drawing in one place and seeing things appear somewhere else, but trust me in that you won’t even notice the disconnect after a few months of consistent digital drawing. I’ve been painting digitally for about 2 years now, and it’s actually slightly easier for me to draw digitally than traditionally. [If you have a cintiq, or you use an iPad with Procreate, or something similar, then you probably don’t have to spend as much time in step 1.]

Keep in mind that it doesn’t matter how good you were with traditional drawing when you start digital; the mental disconnect you have will make it very difficult to think about proportions, values, edges, colors, etc. You’ll probably notice yourself making mistakes that you wouldn’t normally make on paper. Don’t worry about them, just keep drawing as you usually would. Digital you will catch up to traditional you in time.

For now, get used to blending colors, drawing somewhat steady lines that go in the correct direction, and fooling around with brushes and brush settings. If you come across a brush that you like (easy to work with + pleasing results), it may help to stick with it as you continue to learn. Digital doodles and sketches are good for this stage; though try to keep doing traditional work so your base art skills don’t atrophy.

If you’re just starting out with Photoshop or Sai or Krita or whatever software you’re using, you’re gonna be intimidated by all the funky buttons and settings that you first see. If it makes you feel any better, I use maybe 0.1% of the tools that Photoshop offers me. When you start, all you need to worry about is the brush tool and control-z, maybe the eraser too.

2) Do studies as well as pieces from imagination. You can move into step 2 as early as you please; you don’t have to wait until you think you’ve become “skillful” at digital drawing (in fact, this step is what will probably help you become the most comfortable with digital). It’s alright if your colors are icky looking and your values are off (tip, occasionally turn the saturation of your drawing to 0 to check the values), because as long as you keep studying reality and appealing art & continually learn from your mistakes, you’ll get better.

Always remember to study or at least appreciate the qualities of art you enjoy. It’s the same thing that people always tell writers–you have to read a lot to write well. You probably shouldn’t shield yourself from the influence of other artists; while you may think that this action would help you develop artistically in the manner most true to yourself, in reality the vast majority of the process of learning art will be honing in on what you find visually pleasant so that you may, in turn, express your artistic taste in your work. If you look at other people’s art, you can pick out tiny aspects of it that you like and incorporate that into your style. It’s a bit trickier to build a style without the “help” of other artists, though you can always turn to nature for help. On that note, I also recommend referencing nature as much as you can, because we as human beings are sort of wired to find natural designs, colors, and structures beautiful. Look at nature for the universally beautiful, and look at art for the subjectively beautiful (i.e., enjoyed uniquely by you).

If you find yourself getting burnt out pretty quickly, then just paint/draw simple and small things for period of half an hour to 1 ½ hours a day (and switch back to traditional). You can spend this time mapping out proportions, creating thumbnails of values/colors, drawing linework, or whatever. Add complexity to your pieces as the months go by, and if you already have a decent foundation in drawing aim to create somewhat finished pieces after maybe four months to a year. Please note that the second part of that sentence was something I completely made up out of my head, because I’m trying to quantify pretty unquantifiable concepts such as a “decent foundation in drawing” and a “somewhat finished” piece of art. If you find it unrealistic, or just too easy of a goal, disregard it entirely. It can take you half a decade to learn to make finished digital art, or you can get it down in a couple months.

3) Fun fact, there’s not really a step 3 as you stay in 2 forever, always studying and creating. But there’s a few other things about digital art that you ought to know, so here they are:

• If your computer doesn’t make a fuss about it, I’d recommend working on a decently large canvas (at least 3000 by 3000; I personally prefer 6000 by 6000). You’ll get less defined edges and colors if you go below 1000 by 1000, from my experience.

• If you have a tablet with pressure sensitivity (you probably should otherwise digital painting is kinda hellish), go to your brush settings and set ‘transfer’ to ‘pen pressure.’ This is what makes it possible to blend.

• If you’re having trouble matching colors while studying, you can always color pick the ref (in photoshop: bring the pic into PS and use the eye dropper tool) and compare its colors to your colors. Some people add too much red to their skin tones, some people draw their highlights with overly desaturated colors, some people make trees and grass in their landscapes too green; whatever the case, take note of and correct errors that you consistently make.

• Get used to using the transform/warp/liquify tools (liquify is technically a filter but you get what I mean). They’re lifesavers for fixing proportion mistakes that you’ve only noticed 8 hours into a piece.

• Give layers a shot. I only work on one layer, but I’ve heard from people who divide their piece up into multiple layers that they’re damn useful (until you draw on the wrong one).

• Flip your canvas horizontally every once in a while to make sure stuff hasn’t gone awry.

• Screw around with color modes; they can do some really fancy things that are difficult to duplicate with normal digital painting, let alone traditional. On the topic of colors, don’t be afraid to use somewhat desaturated colors (near the center of the color picker square in PS). There are some very aesthetically pleasing color combinations that you can make out of somewhat dulled colors.

• If you’re using PS, bind ‘step backward’ to control Z, not ‘undo.’ This is under keyboard shortcuts. Set up a bunch of shortcuts that are the most convenient for you–personally, I only keep my left hand near the lower left region of my keyboard (my right hand is away from the keyboard and off to the right, drawing on the tablet), so I have all of my necessary shortcuts in that area.

This was a bit longer than I expected, but I figure that someone out there can get something out of it. Cheers to you, if you do.

#asks #digital art #art tips #art help #aesthetic #black and white #illustration #beauty #how to #artists on tumblr

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roku-mtg · 7 years

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If by wacom you mean graphic tablet from them, then i have the same wish... I have from ugee, and when it stoped working properly i still can't draw on it -,- it worked 1 year.

You wish, I don't even have a computer(rip). Actually I'm kind of afraid to have a wacom, like what should I do? I don't know how to use it. What if I messed up? But yeah, just at least wish I have a computer too. Which I can't really afford, because hell, computer are expensive here. And the old and already used, I don't like that much. Because they only sell it when it's super broken and can't really use anymore. Really, I haven't touch the computer like months now. And it seem that using wacom, you must have some keyboard skills. I'm like a loser in these things.(my brother doesn't, he's super pro af). If only, I want to have computer first to get used to it then I will buy wacom? I don't know, it's the best option for me. Until then, I stick with traditional art!(it's been 10 years duh) ( ͡°_ʖ ͡°)

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fagkit · 6 years

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do you have any tips for urges to self harm?

cw: self-harm

I’ll start off by saying that each person’s experience with self-harm is unique, and so what applies to me may not apply to you in the same way. There’s going to be a lot of personal exploration and discovery on your side to find what works best for you, but I hope you’ll be able to draw from my own experiences to help guide your way.

For me, the best place to start was accepting it as unhealthy and unproductive. I think I finally made that connection when I realized my thigh was permanently scarred, but I was still miserable. Self-harm never helped me, it only made me feel worse, and it made the people around me who knew feel guilty for not being able to stop me.

After that, you need willpower. In particular, you need to want to resist the urge, and you need to believe that you don’t deserve any more pain. I’ve seen it all too often where people will just give in and accept it. They’ll let it happen, they’ll say there was nothing they could do about it, or that they didn’t care if it happened, or that they deserved it. I completely understand, I’ve been there too, and it can be incredibly difficult, but it’s important to oppose that mindset.

Next, it’s important to learn and understand how your urges work. With me, there are four phases in the self-harm cycle.

There’s the urge phase. This phase is when I can feel the urge building up and becoming an issue. For me, it usually lasts several minutes, but call also last for hours, depending on the severity.

Then there’s the impulse phase. This phase usually only lasts a second, where the urge to self-harm becomes an impulse. For me, this can happen multiple times at random, any time during the urge phase or the next phase (the resistance/relapse phase). Sometimes there’s only one, sometimes there’s several spread far apart, sometimes there’s several in rapid succession. It all depends on the severity of the situation. It’s in these short moments where I’ll either act on the impulse or not. If it happens, it happens in an instant.

Then there’s the third phase, the resistance/relapse phase. This phase for me usually only lasts a few minutes. During this time, I’ll either continue the cycle of resisting the split-second impulses, or I’ll relapse into self-harming again. Each impulse counts as a single cut for me, so it’s possible to resist some but not others, but normally one leads to another.

The final phase is the relaxation phase. This phase for me can last several minutes, or up to an hour, depending on what happened. For me, this phase is entirely defined by extreme dissociation. This phase lasts for a longer period of time if I self-harmed, and a short period of time if I didn’t. Once I’ve made it into this phase, the urges start to fade and there are no more impulses.

How I’ve been resisting self-harm lately (which is incredibly relevant for me today and yesterday, since it’s been a very horrible couple of days) is by talking about it to people I can trust, and by keeping my hands occupied with something trivial throughout the cycle.

I’ve found in the majority of cases, if I’m able to start a conversation with someone about it during the urge phase, that conversation will be enough to occupy me through the impulse and resistance phases. Sometimes the urges are a lot worse though, and as a result the impulses are stronger. Those are times where I draw vent art, whether it’s with a tablet or on paper, just making sure my hand is occupied, even if it’s with meaningless scribbles. Today my urges were so bad that I knew if I reached for my tablet, I would have ended up grabbing my knife from my drawer instead. I started posting to my vent blog, typing out incoherent, jumbled messes of my thoughts at the time and never letting my hands leave the keyboard, until I made it into the relaxation phase. Other things I’ve don’t to occupy myself during the cycle is shuffle and play with my deck of cards or jack off, but there’s a lot of things you can do that might work better for you, it’s just a matter of finding them.

So, acknowledge that self-harm is unhealthy and unproductive. Find the willpower to want to change, and to want to resist. Don’t give in to the urges, oppose them. Learn when the urges are building up and occupy your hands in some way throughout the impulse and resistance phase. Recognize the severity of your urges and act accordingly. The more severe the urges, the harder and faster the impulses will hit. Learn when you’ve entered the relaxation phase, and when your urges are starting to fade.

#ice answers

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laptops11 · 3 years

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musicalravencreates · 7 years

Note

You just reblogged that AU thingie and I got hit by inspiration. What if Dan is a tattoo artist and Arin gets tats sometimes and hes visibly in pain but he always talks about the tats hes getting and they are so important to him and Dan can only listen to him and maybe falls in love a little bit when Arin starts talking about random things like what he does for a living or something funny that happened to him that day.

Flowers For Mega Man (part one)

So here’s the beginning of this beast. Thank you for the amazing prompt, and I do hope I’m able to finish this au as I have lots of plans for future chapters/parts.

AO3

It was one of those days. Everything was out to annoy Dan. Not enough to make him angry, but just enough to throw him off. His toaster broke in the middle of making breakfast, forcing him to have cereal instead. His lip ring had gotten stick in his shirt collar, forcing him to wrestle with it as he tried to get his shoes on at the same time. And the uber he’d ordered had been ten minutes late, which made him ten minutes late. To top it all off, all his fucking hair ties had just up and gone missing, leaving him to deal with a stray curl falling into his face every few seconds.

At least his client this morning had been a bit of a reprieve. Simple, small design and absorbed in her own thoughts to boot. Probably for the best, considering Dan didn’t feel much for chit chat at the moment.

After his hair blinded him for the third fucking time since starting the outline, however, Dan was done ignoring the issue. He excused himself temporarily, making up some bullshit about needing a drink of water before he stalked his way to the front of the shop.

Dan practically threw open the curtain separating the shop, catching the attention of both Ross and the customer he had been speaking with. He didn’t bother to give the customer a second glance, his focus zeroing in on Ross.

“Okay, cough them up, O'Donivan,” Dan growled, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ve got a client to take care of, and I need my damn hair ties.”

A grin slowly took over Ross’ face and he leaned against the counter. “What makes you think I had anything to do with their disappearance?”

“I’m not in the mood, man,” Dan said, giving him an exasperated look. “Just fuckin tell me. I gotta finish up with Janet so we can both get paid.”

Ross sighed, loud and dramatically as if it were killing him to be nice. Dan rolled his eyes and waited, blowing another stray curl out of his face. “Fine. Baby.” Ross reached under the desk and started rummaging around. He probably knew exactly where they were, but he just had to draw things out to tick Dan off even more. Dan leaned back against the door frame, ready to settle in. He wasn’t backing down no matter how long that asshole-

“Dude, your hair is awesome,” He heard a voice say, and his eyes slid past Ross to the customer he’d ignored. The guy was staring at his hair with a sort of amazement, and Dan wanted to roll his eyes again. People were always weird about his hair, asking him if he was mixed race, asking how he washed it, or whatever else they felt like. But the guy actually surprised him when he added, “The pink looks really good on you.”

Dan blinked, a bit taken aback. The pink was faded, but obviously, still there. If he had done it right, it would have been purple and it would have actually looked okay. As of now, it was most certainly a mess of weirdly faded streaks mixed in with bits of bleached hair that absolutely did notlook good. And yet the guy was still staring, and Dan had no clue what to even say.

“There it is!” Ross exclaimed and Dan jumped, eyes flickering back to a very proud looking Ross holding up a palm-sized magnetic container. Dan shook his head, trying to ignore the weird staring dude as he walked over. He snatched the container from him, giving him another annoyed look. Ross just grinned at him, not even bothering with an apology. Typical.

He slid the container open to check that it held what Ross said it did. Every single one of his hair ties was crammed into the tight space, so much so that he could barely open it. He pulled one out and snapped it around his wrist. He then slid it back shut, tucked it in his pocket and immediately turned back for the door.

“Wait, dude, that’s mine!” Ross called back. Dan just flipped him off over his shoulder as he walked back behind the curtain. Sure, he’d give it back later, but no way was he just dumping his hair ties somewhere.

He pulled his hair back into a quick ponytail and secured the tie as he made his way back to his client. She was thankfully very polite about the whole thing, not even mentioning the argument she probably overheard every word of as he sat down and got back to work. However, as they resettled into the previous silence, Dan found his head buzzing with the new clients’ weird words.

It wasn’t like he knew the guy, so figuring out if he had been sincere or if he’d been fucking with him was a pointless endeavor. And yet Dan wanted to know. If he came back, Dan wanted to have some sort of upper hand on the guy. But as the minutes ticked on, he found himself stumped. Clearly, he needed to let this go.

So he switched to planning out how to next get back at Ross. Something to do with his inkwells would piss him off. Or his tablet. He got really ticked off when people messed with his tablet.

And so the next forty minutes went, Dan ruthlessly planning his assault on Ross’ things as he finished the client’s tattoo. The strange man from before was quickly forgotten.

—

“Ross, what the fuck is this?”

Ross barely even glanced at the sheet as he walked past. “The new client’s design,” He said simply, scooping up some honey roasted almonds from the snack table.

“Isn’t the new client a guy?” Dan asked, giving Ross a pointed look. Ross just shrugged.

“And your point is?”

“It says, ‘Fight Like a Girl.’” Dan pointed to the lettering and shook the sheet. “The fuck, Ross?”

“It’s what he asked for,” Ross said, stuffing more almonds in his mouth. “Don’t get on me for following orders.”

“Bullshit,” Dan tossed the sheet back on Ross’ desk and crossed his arms. “Can’t you save your pranks for me or Barry? Leave the clients of it.”

Ross frowned, swallowing. “Dude, I never pull that shit with the clients. You should know that by now.” He pointed at the computer at the front desk. “Go on. Check. It’s all on records.”

Dan narrowed his eyes but Ross only jabbed more firmly at the computer. Rolling his eyes, Dan marched over to the computer and waved the screen saver away. He pulled up the client database, not having to search far to find the new guy. In a smaller parlor such as theirs, they usually fed off regulars and the occasional one-off drunk. A new client ordering a big piece stood out pretty fucking clearly.

The only new name in the system was one 'Arin Hanson.’ Dan scrolled down, scanning the information until his eyes caught on the order’s description. 'Full upper arm. Sailor Moon wand with the words 'Fight Like A Girl’ in swirly lettering. Maybe some flowers or sparkles surrounding it.’

He glanced back at Ross, who was busy licking his fingers off. Dan’s frown deepened. “You tinkered with the database too? Really?”

Ross stared at him a second, fingers frozen, before dropping his hand. “You- dude, that’s what he ordered! Fucking call him or something! I don’t know!” He snatched up the bowl off almonds and ducked into the back room, and Dan sighed. Great, now Ross was gonna be annoyed with him the rest of the day.

He turned back to the computer, eyes skimming the words again. Ross could have easily tampered with the system to make himself appear innocent. He’d done it before when he’d tried to convince him and Barry that Mike Hock was a real client. Not that they’d been fooled, but he’d proven himself willing to fuck with their system for shits and giggles.

On the other hand, Ross was being truthful. He’d never directly or deliberately fucked with a client before. The most he’d done was scare people entering during Halloween by wearing a werewolf mask. And even Dan had participated. But going so far as to design a tattoo as a prank? That was a bit far.

Dan’s fingers drummed on the metal as he tried to decide what to do. He could call the guy. Say he was confirming his appointment. It was still a few weeks away so he’d probably buy it. And doing so would give Dan more piece of mind than just speculating.

He scrolled back up, eyes locking on Arin’s phone number. He could just do it. Call him, ask, and be done with it. No harm done, right?

With a heavy sigh, Dan grabbed the landline from the corner of the desk and input the number on the screen. As it rang, Dan continued tapping his fingers, eyes scanning over the rest of his information. His attention caught on his address, which was less than a block away. He snorted. Talk about convenience over quality.

Dan heard the ringing end abruptly and a few seconds went by before he heard a quiet, “Hello?”

“Mr.Hanson?” Dan asked, leaning against the desk as he switched his voice to 'business mode.’

“Yeah, that’s me,” The voice said.

“This is Dan Avidan from Accept My Tat. I’m calling to confirm your appointment.” Dan snatched up a pen from the side of the keyboard and began twirling it between his fingers. Might as well act more like a fuckin secretary while he’s at it. “You scheduled an 8:30 am appointment for the 27th, correct?”

“Yup,” He paused for several seconds. “That it?”

“Just one more thing, Mr.Hanson.” Dan grabbed the mouse and scrolled back down. He described the tattoo listed in the description as he tapped the pen against the desk. “Is that correct, as well.”

“Yeah, that’s uh, what I told the guy anyway. Except for the swirly lettering, but that sounds pretty cool. He’s gonna add that in, right?”

Dan blinked, pulling the phone away from his ear to stare at the receiver. His eyes flickered to the computer, then back to the curtain Ross had disappeared behind. Well, fuck, he had been telling the truth. He couldn’t believe it.

After a few seconds of just staring at the phone, Dan slowly put the receiver back to his ear.

“Uh yeah, he’s actually finished the piece already. It’s very swirly.” Dan shook his head. Who the fuck even was this guy?

“Oh, awesome! I can’t wait to see it.” Arin’s voice suddenly picked up, excited. “I’ve been wanting to get this done for a while, and I’m so glad I can finally afford it.”

“If… If you don’t mind me asking,” Dan said, unable to stop himself. “Why exactly did you want to get this tattoo?”

When Arin went silent, however, Dan felt like smacking himself with the pen. Idiot. It was probably super personal, like a sister that died or something, and he just couldn’t keep his curiosity in check. Fuck, he was usually better about this sort of thing. Why was he so damn curious now?

“I just…” Arin started, pausing again, and Dan opened his mouth to apologize for prying and tell him he really didn’t have to answer, but Arin spoke again before he could. “I always preferred feminine superheroes and kick-ass characters as a kid. Still do really. And I hold my feminine side pretty close to my heart. So, I dunno, I just wanted something to reflect that, you know?” Arin paused again. “Uh, you still there?”

Dan shook his head, focusing his thoughts back from trying to figure out how the hell this guy even existed. “Oh, yeah, I’m here. That’s…” He took a breath. “That’s really something.” Not at all what he had expected, but damn if he wasn’t intrigued. “We’ll see you on the 27th, alright?”

“Yep,” Arin said. “See you guys then. Tell Ross thanks for doing this. I’m super fuckin pumped.”

Dan quirked a smile and glanced at the curtain again. “I’ll let him know.”

As he hung up, the thought of meeting this strange man went through his mind and Dan quickly found himself wondering what this guy looked like. He was willing to bet he was ridiculously burly and had a shaved head. Or a beanpole with a bad undercut. He glanced down at the phone, then back at the curtain.

“Hey, Barry! Wanna make a bet with me?”

#flowers for mega man au #egobang #rubberbang #mine

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