#usually hate this tool but for once it was pretty smooth and easy to use

[helenrira]

Following these drawings, I wanted to do some kind of part 3

[kyidyl]

Kyidyl Does Archaeology - Part 4

(As before, if you’re only seeing this part 4, the rest of them have the tag KyidylCL)

THE ARTEFACTS

Ok, so I’ve talked about the site and what we’ve been digging in and such, but I’m gonna be honest with you guys: I like lab work exponentially more than field work.  So I am the one who has been processing the vast majority of the finds and ergo have lots of stuff.  That’s why I sometimes make jokes about the stuff in my basement - I’m storing the majority of it here in my basement.  I’ve gotten the question before about ownership, so here is how that works.  The dig is on private land so anything we get technically belongs to the owner of the land.  Now, as far as I know, he has no interest in keeping any of it so it’ll likely end up in the hands of the arch society, who will basically just be custodians of it but not owners.  It might end up in a museum, too.  I don’t really know, but that determination won’t be made until we’re finished, and not by me.  

So every site has its own sort of categories of stuff that you find depending on who lived there (although for ease, archaeologists often categorize this stuff based on location and time - more on that later.).  For our site the majority of it falls into these categories: animal bone, shell, lithics, pottery, charcoal, modern contaminants, and artefacts.  And, to lend a bit of clarity here...lithics are anything made of rock.  So they include fire cracked rocks, flakes from stone tool making, material that was used in construction, material that was crushed to make temper for pottery paste (more on that later, too.), etc.  If it came from a rock it’s a lithic.  

And imma tell you a secret: I hate lithics.  Everyone has their thing, their category of human refuse that they simply do not like.  A prof of mine hated teeth and pottery.  That’s just how it is, and mine is lithics.  I think they’re boring, I can’t tell a flake from a blade, I don’t give a single fuck what material they are, I don’t care about the style or craftsmanship...I just don’t care.  I call them all rocks, and I do it so much that everyone on the site has started accidentally calling them rocks, too, which amuses me.  Rocks, to an archaeologist, means “stone that wasn’t altered or used by people”.  They’re worthless.  Not that I think lithics are worthless - far from it - I just really hate them and this site has so.  goddamned.  many.  Lucky for me, we have a Rock Guy aka someone who really loves lithics and actually has gotten pretty good at flint knapping and just, y’know, is really into rocks.  

And to clarify about artefacts.  When you’re out in the field everything you find is either an artefact or a find.  The collection of these things is called an assemblage.  When you’re doing lab work and sorting through it all later on an artefact is, well...like a thing.  I’m explaining this poorly....it’s a complete object with a specific function.  So, a whole pot = artefact, broken pieces = sherds (not shards, sherds.). Complete arrowhead = artefact, flakes or a broken one = lithic.  Artefacts also tend to be somewhat unique, or at least something you don’t have a lot of.  They don’t always have to be complete, anything that is a specific object can go in here.  Like, for example, this piece of pipe we found: 

To recap, we’ve got pottery, charcoal, lithics, shell, bone (animal - we haven’t found human. But I’m just gonna say bone.), and artefacts.  If you are sensitive to things like that, this is your warning that this post is going to have pictures of animal bone and you should scroll quickly.  

Now, for reference, this is what it all looks like before I clean it and after it’s been dying out for a day or two (the ground has natural moisture, so I basically just open the bags and let them air out.): 

And, yes....I am cleaning them off on an actual antique blotter with real silver edges that my mom gave me for this express purpose.  A factoid I’m only sharing because it amuses me in that sort of “bet they never envisioned this use for this thing” sort of way.  Normally, if I was in a real lab, you’d do this over a metal tray.  When you’re working with an assemblage you never hold it over empty space, you always hold it over the bench and preferably over whatever your work surface is.  That doesn’t mean I haven’t dropped my fair share of stuff anyway, but most of it just lands on the work surface and not the floor, which is why you hold it over a work surface.  But anyway, as you can see, it just looks like a brown, dirty mess.  I usually do a quick sort of the stuff I know for sure what it is and then I wash it with a soft toothbrush and some water.  The rocks I just submerge and swoosh around because they’re rocks and I can’t really damage them and there’s SO FRIKKIN MANY that I refuse to clean them individually.  

So now that you’ve gotten through that long-winded but necessary explanation of terms, where are we at? Since I’m a bioarchaeologist and I prefer things that were once alive to the general detritus of human society, we’re gonna start with the bone.  Specifically, we’re gonna start with how I know those two pits from yesterday’s post are one pit.  This is how: 

This is a deer bone.  Don’t ask me which one bc I’m really not good at ID’ing species and animal anatomy, but it’s a leg bone of some kind.  See how it’s broken? One piece was found in one hole and the other piece was in the other.  Clearly it’s the same animal, ergo the pits are related to each other.  The vast majority of what came out of that particular feature was bone, with the rest being charcoal and the occasional pot sherd.  This means it was probably used for cooking and not as a garbage pit. Also there was food in it, if you recall the cooking accident from yesterday.  but sometimes y’know, stuff falls into the fire pit or it’s put in there as a way of disposing of it.  

But wait, I have more cool animal bones!! 

Ok, so there’s this one: 

This bone has a special place in my heart. IDK what species it is (I *think* it’s a fragment of deer long bone.), but that’s not why it’s cool.  This single bone is strong evidence for the presence of dogs.  =D See that circular mark on the right? That is the impression of a canine tooth from a carnivore.  Human teeth can’t make those marks in bones - our teeth aren’t strong enough to do significant damage to bone, and anyway we tend to crack bones open with rocks (a form of damage called percussion marks.) and not with our teeth.  Those other longer scratch marks are also likely from chewing, not butchery, because they’re in the right places and they’re the right shape.  Now we know this was a settlement, and this bone was found smack in the middle surrounded by human detritus and not on the fringes or outskirts.  There were no domesticated felines in the Americas at the time BC this is from the lower pre-contact level, so what’s really the only carnivore that would be wandering around a human settlement? Dogs.  I love this kinda stuff because it’s so easy see them chilling around the fire pit, talking and eating, teasing whomever it was that spilled dinner, and then tossing the bones to their dogs to gnaw on after dinner.  It’s just such a people kind of thing, you know? All from one small, circular mark.  I actually found more on later bones that came out of other places, so it’s pretty safe to say there were dogs living here with their people even though we have found neither people nor dogs.  

So here’s another cool bone: 

Again, no idea what species it is bc I’m not a zooarch (yes, there are archaeologists that specialize in animals and wooooo boy can they tell you a LOT about migration and eating habits of people.). It’s about the size of half my thumb, IE, not large.  This one is cool, and it’s the only one I have like this, because of that notch you can see vertically in the image on the right hand side.  I don’t know what it was for, but I DO know that it was an intentionally made modification to the bone.  Those striations aren’t natural - natural bone is smooth or has a very specific texture and this isn’t that.  It’s probably not damage done to the bone after it was deposited in the archaeological record.  It has the same patina as the majority of the rest of the bone, which you can compare to the lighter area there on the right hand end of the bone.  That lighter area does not have the patina of age that the rest of the bone does, and is the result of damage in a much more recent time - probably as we were taking it out of the ground.  Small bones are fragile.  So someone gouged this channel intentionally in this bone, either because they were going to use it as decoration or it served some purpose as a tool.  I’m not really sure what though.  Hell, they could have just been bored and fidgeting after eating.  Either way, it’s a human modification to this bone that has nothing to do with cooking or consumption (damage from human consumption is cracks and breaks, not scrapes.).  It could also be a butchery mark, although it’s a bit deep for that.  Butchery marks are there from separation of meat from bone - they’re usually just shallow scrapes.  

Ok, last cool bone I’m gonna show you.  Well, bones, plural.  

Ok so this is part of the same assemblage as the ones above, and if I remember correctly these were the ones that came out of that pit.  You can see the same bone with the canine tooth mark there in the center.  There’s also some interesting things like some pottery on the left and a couple teeth off to the right (one is a deer and I *think* that curved on is a squirrel.), but the really interesting thing is the series of 3 shiny bones that are in the center.  There’s a lot of ways to cook meat, and they all do different things to bones.  You will often find the dry, brown looking ones like you can see here in the non-shiny bones. That’s like...your basic “this bone had meat on it when it was cooked”. Then you’ll see ones that are black, and that’s “this bone probably didn’t have meat when it was cooked, or someone tossed it back in the fire when they were done”. Lastly, you’ll see white bone, and that’s a bone that has been burned at a high temperature for a long time.  Usually it’s done on purpose (you can use burned, powdered bone to make stuff.).  

But the shiny ones were in a soup.  And the reason I know that is *because* they’re shiny.  Bones, especially old ones, aren’t shiny.  I mean...you can see that.  You have to do stuff to ‘em.  And bones are porous, but those weren’t.  They felt like hard plastic. And they get that way by being boiled.  The shiny patina is what we call pot polish - they were stirred in the soup while it was cooking and rubbed against the side of the pot and each other, and it gives them a smoother texture.  

All of these collections of bones tell us what and how they ate things.  I know from what I can ID here (which isn’t everything, trust me.) that they ate a lot of deer and wild turkey (we have an entire almost completely intact turkey long bone.). There is also, I believe, squirrel (I found a portion of a skull and jaw that I’m pretty sure belong to a squirrel), and an assortment of other small rodents and birds.  Lots of birds.  Bird bone is really distinctive, it’s light and the spongy bone has a distinct texture.  A zooarchaeologist can look at bones like this and ID species and age, and from there tell you what time year something was probably killed.  Societies that hunted a lot tended to do it seasonally so that they wouldn’t damage the populations.  Plus especially with fish and stuff they have very specific growing cycles and short lifespans, so they can also tell you a lot about where the people were hunting and when.  Like certain fish will only spawn in certain places, so it’s really informative.  Zooarchs are so important and there just aren’t enough of them.  

Anyway, there are other cool things in the bones but I’m trying to strike a balance here between too much and not enough and I really love bone so I’m going to stop here for today.  Tomorrow is going to be other artefacts (yeah, sadly, even lithics, lol), and what they tell us about the site and the people who lived there.   As an aside: if anyone has any like just general “how do they know this?” sort of questions about history and archaeology those would be fun to answer.  I love to tell people how we do things but I don’t just wanna infodump.  I DO want to explain procedure in what I hope is a readable way because I think understanding how we make the sausage will help people have more trust in science.  So if you have any questions, please, send asks.  If I don’t know the answer I’ll research it or pass it on to someone who does.  

[tales-unique]

FAITH, LOST VI

The softness got me like 😩 I hope you enjoy it! ♥

@maddi-bug & @chelseareferenced & @actual-trash-goblin

Chapter 6

Heisenberg is gone for longer than usual. It's to be expected, given how swift and intense the explosion was, only this time you're aware of just how much you miss him when he's not there. It’s cathartic, no longer having your feelings hidden in the deepest parts of yourself. Upon reflection, you realize that you enjoy the power struggle between the two of you and that there is no shame in it. Pleasure, you had come to learn, wouldn’t compromise your dignity or pride in yourself, and wasn’t something to be demonized or resented. Weightless from this revelation, your mind drifts to the last words he spoke before leaving you; we aren’t done here . Fire blooms in your stomach, dripping lower until you’re squirming where you sit cross-legged on Heisenberg's bed. Your skin still tingles from where he held you in his rough grasp, white noise erupting all over your body. It’s clear just what the phrase implies , but at the same time you have no exact idea what to expect when he returns and that’s part of what makes this all so thrilling . Though even with all the positive feelings that come with this, you can’t help but still feel conflicted. You find yourself lost in the moment, sent adrift in a vast ocean with no lifeline.

Now, it wasn’t as though you hadn’t had sex before, because you had. It was only once, in the hayloft of the village stables with a young man named Nicolai that you were fond of. He worked in the fields and you often saw him on your way to Church, where he’d smile and wink at you. He’d happened upon you when you’d lingered near the edge of the fields one day after morning Mass, bashfully accepting when he proposed that you go somewhere quieter together. You remember that his kisses were soft, but he was a little pushy, and once he was done that was it. No real connection, no real passion, just motion until you were both done, and even then you weren’t completely sure if you were done. Then a week later he was dead, mauled to death in that very same hayloft by a Lycan, along with a girl from your congregation named Irina. You can only imagine the reason why she was there with him that day. It sat, bitter like poison, within you for some time after their deaths, knowing that this hadn’t been the special thing you had been led to believe; this divine virtue that needed to be protected until you were lawfully wed, where all would finally make sense. Then you met Lord Karl Heisenberg and everything was suddenly turned on its head. Since you had come to the Factor you had been exposed to a more sexually charged and free environment, with Heisenberg's flirtatious teasing a regular occurrence, as well as his sarcasm and moods, culminating in the spark that set all this motion when he had you pinned to the desk in his office. You were given no room to avoid it, no chance to hide behind demureness and virtue, and because of that you were able to grow . You now embraced what this freedom could give you and it was all because of his pushing. At first it didn’t sit well with you, it squirmed and fought, but the disquieting sensation dissipated easily and you were left with an insatiable hunger for all things you had been denied, scandalous or otherwise. Biting your lip, a devious little thought fills your head; you needed to thank him when he came back.

When Heisenberg does come back to you it's already well into the night, and in anticipation of his return he finds that you’re not in your room when he looks, instead, amusingly, you’re actually in his . Sound asleep, you’re curled up on his bed with the sheets clutched in your dainty fingers up to your face. He watches from the doorway the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest as you breathe and the way your long lashes kiss your cheeks. You’ve clearly been busy while he was gone, having ordered the disheveled work desk to semi-neatness so he can at least still find his things. Straightened papers, pens put in the holder, lined his tools up for easy access. It’s something he doesn’t outwardly thank you for, but  has most certainly come to value. You don’t overstep, you merely aid, and it’s in these quiet moments of downtime that he realizes how much he appreciates the little things you do for him. Yes, it began with your faith and devotion to Mother Miranda and her decree for you to serve him, but he isn’t naive enough to believe that’s all there is to it. Not now, anyway. You don’t have to be caring towards him in your servitude, in your own little ways, like becoming annoyed with him when he tells you he hasn’t eaten all day or hasn't drunk enough water while working. Soft, kind-hearted things; things he isn’t used to. Trying to be as quiet as he can, Heisenberg walks over to where you lay, settling on the edge of the bed by your side. You squirm in your sleep as his weight dips the mattress but you don’t wake up, merely curling up tighter with a soft sigh. He watches your sleeping form with pinched brows, the uncomfortable intensity of yearning twisting knots within him. A hesitant hand comes to brush your cheek with his thumb, cupping it gently. Such tender affections were not something the Lord was known for, or used to receiving from others, given the magnitude of sins he had performed at the behest of his hatred for Miranda, her manipulations and betrayals, and his insatiable need to be free of the confinement he was forced into. Ulterior motives were second nature in his world, the lesson that kindness and affection were a means to an end instilled in him from an early age. Yet the compulsion, new and alarming, to give in to your motiveless warmth had wormed its way deep inside, threatening to shatter him from within. Not that he wasn’t trying to fight it, he was . Like a wild mustang refusing to yield to anyone, he twisted and pulled and snapped at the feeling, it’s tendrils repelled as much as he could, but he was slowly weakening to its constant attacks. It just wouldn’t leave him be . The realization was harsh and unforgiving that you are well on your way to becoming someone that would, in time, serve to weaken him, grinding down his walls just as the sea wears away the rocks on its shores until they resemble nothing of their former selves. The thought irks him and in a childish display of spitefulness he pulls his hand back from your face, lips curling into a snarl. His fingers burst with static, punishing him for prematurely cutting the contact, and he tries to smother the sensation by tightening his hand into a fist. It doesn’t help. He can still feel it and he hates that he misses it, like some love-sick pup! It ties his stomach in knots and sets his blood aflame. He’s hyper aware of you laying behind him, overwhelmed when you turn over and your knees press against his back. Lulled by your gentle, slumbering breaths, a calming serenade, Heisenberg’s hand slowly unfurls to rest on his leg. Though he’s still very much on edge. The dizzying free-fall into such conflicting emotions sends him nauseous, reeling from the sudden severity of it. You were just a weak, pathetic human , for fucks sake! You had no right to come barging into his life and start wrecking shit up with your pretty smiles and warm eyes! All those selfless moments he tries so desperately to poke holes in, only to find that they’re as sound as a concrete wall. It has him doubting, however minutely, the thought that everyone was out to get

him and that scared him. Quickly standing, he decides even being in the same room as you is too much. Everything is suddenly stifling, the heat cloying and making his throat burn. He doesn’t even check to see if he’s disturbed you as he exits the room, head throbbing mercilessly. There’s nowhere left in the factory that’s safe from your influence; the rooms smell of you, the hallways echo with your voice, his things marked by your touch — you’re everywhere , encasing him. And he doesn’t help that fact when he finds himself standing in the middle of your room. His keen senses are overwhelmed by the space, your space, but it isn’t so disarming this time. No, now he’s growing to like it against his better judgement. You’ll ruin him and he’s slowly coming around to the idea of letting you do it, too. It makes him sick, that thought, but it doesn’t really matter as he sits down on the couch where you sleep, fingers smoothing over the sheets you’ve neatly folded over it. There’s a twisted sense of irony in how he finds comfort in being surrounded by your things, as little as they are, when trying so desperately trying to get away from you. It doesn’t make sense, but since when did anything in his fucked up life? "Fuck," he moaned, the word drawn-out in his frustration as he laid his head back to stare up at the ceiling.

"Heisenberg?" The Lord tilts his head to look at where you stand in the doorway, your tender question alerting him to your presence. You're a picture of post-slumber beauty; hair dishevelled and fluffed up on one side from where you had been laying, eyes hazy with sleep, your top languidly slipping down one shoulder, creased from your rest. Your brow is pinched as you regard him, gently padding over to where he sits. "Sleeping Beauty finally wakes up, huh?" He chuckles, casually slinging his arm over the back of the couch. “Did you enjoy sleeping in my bed?” He teases with a smirk. “You were gone too long,” you retorted, fixing him with a tired glare, pulling your legs up as you settle down beside him, “and you don’t let me down into the lower levels with you, do you?” “I know, but this was serious,” Heisenberg sighed, his free hand coming to pinch the bridge of his nose, screwing his eyes shut in frustration, “one of the fucking conveyor lines decided to go ka-pow !” He punctuates his statement with a mimic of the explosion, both hands involved before dropping down limply. “It was jammed. I got it under control but the fallout was, well, messy ,” he explained, taking off his glasses and putting them aside on the couch arm, along with his tossed coat and gloves. You frown at the way he drags his hands down his face, sighing deeply. He’s exhausted and there’s nothing you can really do that you haven’t already tried. “At least it’s fixed now, yes?” You ask softly as you turn to sit cross-legged, facing him. You have a look of worry creasing your features and Heisenberg is quick to hide the rising emotion with his usual swagger. “Of course it is, why do you think I’ve been gone so long?” He scoffs, shaking his head. His leg begins to jiggle under the weight of your wary gaze, knowing that he’s not fooling you in the slightest. You’ve seen enough of him, the vulnerability he has, to know an act of bravado when he’s conjuring it. It’s unsettling to know that you have a means of undermining his power over you now, that you can call his bluff with somewhat decent accuracy, and he fully expects you to embrace that power. So when you gingerly move to nestle into his side, back resting against him with your head leaning against his arm where it lays slung across the back of the couch he’s pleasantly surprised. He should know better, you’ve always been soft . Even when you’re being fierce towards him and you blaze like a thousand suns it comes from a place of tenderness and care, something he doesn’t think he’ll ever truly understand about you. “I missed you.” It’s barely a whisper and even his keen hearing is strained to pick it up. There are a million sarcastic and teasing responses that he could choose from to say, and very much would have, if not for the fact that you’re right there , disarming him with a distant, non-threatening kind of affection that has him weak. It’s easier, he assumes, for you to not look at him when you tell him your truth and he’s grateful. Those big doe eyes, filled with gentle fondness, that you have when you’re being this way might just send him into overdrive at this point and he hasn’t yet come up with a game plan on how to deal with it. “Yeah?” It’s a simple response, but there’s a slight break to his voice that betrays the tempest of emotions swirling within. The air is charged with anticipation, a prickling static that is so close to erupting, all because you’ve got him going fucking soft . “Mhm,” you hum, pressing your feet into the cushions to distract yourself. Your face is ablaze with colour, your skin burning. To be so open, so raw , in such an intimate setting as this was completely foreign to you, and it didn’t help that the one you were experiencing it with was Lord Karl Heisenberg . A silence, pregnant with the onset of a coming storm, rolls over you both and you sit, listening to the sound of each other's breathing. Your heart is hammering in your chest, the hummingbird threatening to break free. White noise suddenly erupts across your body when you feel him shift, ever so slightly,

and his arm comes across your front to pull you closer. The movement is awkward, marred by a lack of experience with this kind of action, and you too have to move in order to be comfortable. It takes a moment or two but soon you both find a happy medium.You rest your cheek against his arm, nose lovingly brushing against one of the many raised, white scars that littered his skin. If only he could be so bold in this way. His body stiffens instinctively when you continue with your ministrations, resisting the urge to pull back, to push you away. His scars were a source of contention for him, among many other things, some known to you and some not, given how he had come to have them. But you didn’t seem to mind. That he now knew for sure from the way you lavished them with gentle attention, carefully tracing the lines with your dainty fingers. You even dare to press a gentle kiss to one that curls into his wrist, feeling the way his pulse jumps wildly under your lips. “I didn’t realise you had so many,” you murmur, looking over his arm with interest. He’s never spoken outright about them, but they were hard to miss. There was nary a patch of skin, seen or unseen, that didn’t have one of some kind, or so you presumed. You had no doubts in your mind that he would keep their origins from you and you wouldn’t presume to have leave to ask, but in this moment anything could be possible. Stranger things had already happened, after all. However, when he remains quiet you frown, pressing a lingering kiss to the spot, a silent apology for having been so prying. His pulse jumps again and suddenly you're pulled in closer, tighter. You gasp at the sudden shift, feeling him lean in, nosing your hair, taking in it’s scent. “You’re pretty brave tonight, huh?” He rumbled low into your ear, making you stiffen. He wanted to touch you, only this time it was different from before. It was driven by an unfamiliar desire to give intimacy as he had been given, to gain back the power you had taken. Or so he told himself. You were his, Mother Miranda had said as much when she gave you to him, but now he wanted to be yours , too. “I—” You swallow your nerves, turning so that you could look up at him with wide eyes, “—did I go too far?” It was hard to know when you had crossed a line until you were already well beyond it, incurring his wrath, so you were understandably wary, and it irked him to know that he was the source of your constant insecurity. He really was a shitty person, like you had said before. “Not at all,” he stated, lips quirking in a smile at the way your gaze softened, a bashful smile crossing your face. This thing, whatever it was that you had, was a delicate, fragile little bloom that he was striving to keep, to protect . In his mind he knew there may not ever be another chance for something like this for someone like him and so he was determined not to lose it. Not to his siblings, not to that bitch Miranda, not to anything or anyone . This time the silence is more comfortable for the both of you, his fingers drumming a nonsensical tune on your arm as you rest against him — the last vestige of his anxiousness and nerves. You don’t hold it against him, instead allowing it to lull you into a peaceful doze. Your weight, like an anchor to his wayward ship, is pleasant and he finds that quietness can indeed be peaceful. With you at his side he’s grounded, electrified but contained. It’s surreal, but he’s addicted to the odd sensations your affection gives him. It’s nothing like the sexually charged tension of before but in some ways it’s even better . He doesn’t ever want it to end, you and him, in this still, secret moment, and that worries him to no end.

[srn-clrwtr]

dating embry call,,,, kind of HAHA

i hate myself for writing this, however, it was asked of me and i have no other ideas 😐😐 pls,,, go easy on me. i’m not good at romance, or any writing, but... i need to release something HAHAHA also i hate writing in second person but i’m TRYING **pls reblog**

also this is more like??? plot based??? in the beginning anyway. it isn’t till the end where i throw some headcanons in there... my writing goes from eloquent to straight up meme sorry about it :)

pls enjoy this v v v v long request and pls excuse any errors 🙏🙏 i’m going to edit this throughout the day

***also this is after breaking dawn and the cullens r gone and resume never happens :)

your mother had called la push her childhood home. it was the place she had learned to walk and ride a bike, it was where she experienced her first love and heartbreak, and the place where she knew unconditional love and friendship.

embry’s mother had been her best friend since she could talk, the woman knew her like she had known herself. where one was, you could always find the other.

they were the same person, all before yours had moved away. the second she was able to free herself of the chilled and misty winds of the torrential northwest, she was gone.

while she was utterly in love with the life she built, she itched for something beyond the quiet comfort of gentle rain. still, she always knew that she could find solace in the waterlogged soil if she ever needed.

and so she began with college, where she rooted herself with a man just a few short years older than herself. she moved in tandem with him, where he stepped, she followed.

when she fell pregnant with you, she found herself settling down and building a home. from crumpled photos on the fridge, to the sea smoothed stone that littered the windowsill above the sink, she left subtle reminders of the home she had left behind.

your father was initially a happy man, loud and boisterous with a grin so contagious, even the moon smiled back. you suppose it was what your mother had fallen for.

as you grew, his sunny aura shifted, hidden from the dark and looming clouds of a more than stressful work week. by the time you hit middle school, you understood that even though he had loved you and your mother, his priorities were found elsewhere.

your mother understood that raising you was best alone. though her husband responsible, living with the shell of the man he once was, was pointless. he was far too rooted within the floorboards of his office to quell the brewing storm of their marriage.

by the time you were in high school, your parents had divorced, and your mother had asked you about moving back to her own home town.

while she understood that moving away from your own home could be hard, all she had to do was mention embry.

Embry Call was the highlight of your summers. Your father was always too busy for family vacations, and so your mother always took you to La Push for a few weeks during the summer or over the holiday. Her job allowed to work from the comfort of her home, so trips to visit Embry and his mother weren’t entirely uncommon.

whenever you went to visit, you were both joined at the hip. As children, your fingers were always laced as he brought you all over the reservation. From the beaches to the middle of the forrest, he made sure you always ended up caked in mud, hair tangled messy.

In middle school, you were introduced to Jake and Quil, where you graduated from mud pies and forts, onto bonfires and the dryness of jake’s workshop.

of course, you still went on the occasional hike with embry, eager for at least some alone time away from your mutual friends.

it was pretty obvious that the both of you liked each other, but you were young. it was playground love, if you could even call it that.

into high school you stopped visiting so much, your mother grew busier, and you began to focus more on your own studies... during the summer, you enjoyed time at home, with friends not so far away.

still, you both stuck to phone calls. they were generally late at night, usually with the excuse of studying and school. you had no idea that it was actually because he ran on a much later schedule due to his shift.

and so when she all but mentioned Embry Call, you agreed... apprehensively, of course. at the end of the day though, you knew that you wouldn’t exactly be alone.

and truth me told, you always kind of liked it there better... the memories you made in la push were the best you had.

when you had arrived in la push, your mother had breathed in the air with a gentle smile, eyes closed as she took in the misty air. it was then when you began to wonder how much she had actually missed her home there.

embry’s mother had come to help unpack, explaining that embry was off running a couple of errands for her. a lie of course.

you were obviously bummed, a small pout gracing your features before your mother had all but rushed you to start unpacking. embry was not forgotten, the boy still on your mind as you grumbled throughout the rest of the night.

it wasn’t until after dark, when the sky was surprisingly clear with stars, did you get to see your long time friend.

with a knock to the door, and a shout from your mother telling you to answer it, you had flown down the stairs... with a small gripe of course. she was in the dining room. why couldn’t she get it?

the attitude all but vanished from your being as you opened the door to see embry, so much more different than you had last remembered.

it took you a moment to recognize him— his chest and shoulders were broad, hair cut short compared to the long inky strands that you were used to.

it took maybe a few seconds at most to register that the boy standing before you was indeed embry, and once that small fact had clicked, you all but flung yourself into his arms.

“em, oh my god just look at you! what in the hell did you do to your hair?!” your exclamation was muddled into nothing to embry, taking a few seconds himself to respond to your embrace.

little did you know that when the door had flung open, and his eyes met yours, his mind went blank as the world stopped spinning. the only thing on his mind, was you.

with gentle hands, he pulled you close and returned your hug. he had laughed a little bit, letting go of the breath he seemed to be holding, “it’s good to see you too, y/n”

embry hadn’t expected to imprint at all, let alone on the one person he wanted it to be the most. it was the first time he had seen you since his shift, and he had all but forced himself to forget any chances with you. all until you had opened the door.

you pulled away with a grin, quick to tug him inside your home, “you okay though? looks like i lost you in space there for a second.” and in all honesty, it looked as if he still was.

“yeah yeah, no... i’m okay! promise. i just... i’ve got a lot on my mind, is all.” you chose not to pay any attention to the way his eyes looked to the ceiling when he spoke, or the way he stammered out his response.

instead, you turned to your mother, where she sat at the counter with embry’s mom, tea in hand. They were smug as you spoke, “if it’s okay, i’m going to drag embry upstairs... i can’t put my bed frame together for the life of me.”

your mother shrugged her shoulders and looked over to her friend, “i don’t care—” and before she could finish, you yelled out a quick thanks before rushing up the steps.

neither of you missed the, “keep the door open!” from embry’s mother. you laughed it off, meanwhile, embry’s skin darkened with blush as he stuttered out a complaint. to say he was horrified, was an understatement.

embry was up in the clouds. it was you. of course it was you. it has always been you. though embarrassed, he couldn’t help but admire the way you could laugh something off so easily. how you blew the constant teasing off from his mother without question. and then he thought about how you did the same with jake and quil... you accepted it. you played right back.

images of you with his pack floated through his mind like dreams, a soft smile on his face. if you could get along with quil and jake, and take their endless amounts of teasing, then there wasn’t a doubt in his mind about his other friends, his brothers.

embry hadn’t noticed that you had laced your fingers between his, or that you were talking aimlessly to him. it wasn’t until you stopped leading him down the halls of your home did he realize.

you had turned around to look at him fully, head tilted in wonder as you held eye contact with him, “i wasn’t kidding when i said i needed help, embry. but if you have too much on your mind, we can talk it out too, you know?”

his heart fluttered a bit, eyes wide as he stared down at you, “no! no. i can help. i just... i’ve missed you.” and before you could squeeze in a cheeky comment, he continued, “well i mean, i mean we all do! my mom missed you visiting... i did too! and then jacob and quil never stoped pestering me about when you were going to visit again... and... and now your here! for good...”

you giggled as he rambled on, trying to cover up his obvious mistake. rather than watch him stutter over his words, you shook your head and lead him into your bedroom, “okay embry i get it. i missed you too. now, please for the love of god help me with my bed.”

this seemed to shut him up as he gazed into your bedroom, where your bed frame lay across the floor... somewhat put together, and lopsided, “well i mean you’re half way there... i guess?” he noticed the screws and various tools scattered across the floors and smiled fondly, “don’t worry, i’m here the save the day. let’s see what we got.”

and as he began to reconstruct your bed frame, you watched on in admiration. he wasn’t aware of your silent stare as he worked. instead, he was focused on the task at hand... admittedly, also day dreaming. ever since you had opened the door, his brain had turned to mush.

“so em... are you going to tell me why you cut your hair? or how you changed so much since the last time i saw you? you never even mentioned it over the phone!”

the boy looked up at you as you questioned him, hand moving to scratch at the back of his head, “i mean... well.. i just needed a change i guess. long hair is a lot of maintenance and with school being so... busy? i guess i just wanted one less thing to worry about.” his excuse seemed rehearsed, but you payed no mind. if he didn’t want to tell you the truth, you weren’t going to make him. not now anyway.

you nodded, and let out a hum. you thought about a lot of things, such as why he seemed so stressed and up tight. or why he felt the need to lie about his hair. using the excuse of “it’s too hard to keep up with” was bs. at least to you. whenever you came to visit, you had noticed that his hair was a priority to him, just like it was for jake and some of the others on the reservation.

he kept it well, carried around hair bands for when he needed to keep it back, and even had a brush sometimes. he wouldn’t even let anybody except for his mom touch it. why did he think you were going to believe his lie so easily?

the rest of the night went on with ease. it took embry less than fifteen minutes to figure out your bed frame, insisting that he put on the mattress himself.

the rest of the time, embry had watched you unpack. you wouldn’t let him help after he put the bed frame together, so he settled for asking you about life since he last saw you. he danced around your own questions, making up excuses here and there for his appearance or tired complexion.

eventually, you took a seat next to him as you spoke. you smiled as his head fell against your shoulder, “you can rest your eyes em, i won’t mind.” he all but nodded, hair brushing against your cheek as he settled closer. he hadn’t realized how exhausted he was until you told him.

it wasn’t long before embry’s mother had come up the stairs to find embry asleep on your shoulder. she leaned against your door frame as you waved to her, “i’ll wake him up and send him down. it won’t be but two minutes.” at that, she nodded and turned around.

hand coming to rest against the skin above his knee, you ahook his leg gently, “okay emmy. you gotta wake up, your mom is waiting for you downstairs...” he stirred awake, body stretching as he hummed, “i’ll see you tomorrow? maybe?”

he nodded at your inquiry, rubbing his eyes, “yeah, i’ll see you tomorrow... just, just call me when you wake up or something. the boys will want to see you... maybe i can take you to meet some more friends of mine? a bonfire maybe?”

you agreed, and pulled him up for a hug goodbye. his body was hot against yours, another question forming at the top of your tongue. it was like he knew, and before you could mumble it out, he pulled away to ruffle your hair. with a quick ‘see you later’ he all but rushed out the door, leaving you in a comfortable silence.

embry and you only grew closer after that. he couldn’t help but cry a little inside when he saw you interact with his brothers the following night. you all sat around a fire at the beach, where you had laughed and played into friendly banter as you snuggled up into his side.

you stuck your tongue out at quil nd jake whenever they had something to say about you both together.

into the following weeks, you and embry acted as if you were already dating. he never uttered a word about the wolf thing until seth had let a comment slip past his lips, something about how, “us wolves are just like that”

and then embry told you. you had all but laughed in his face when he told you, turning to cry after he shifted. it wasn’t like you were upset, you were just... overwhelmed. he walked you home that night, where he tucked you into bed and kissed your forehead, apologies rushing from his mouth. you refused to let him leave you after that.

you pulled him beside you and buried your head in his chest and basked in the silence of your room. he let you, running his fingers through your hair as he let you think everything out. he was afraid to speak, terrified of losing you.

you were the one to break the silence, peaking up at him, your eyes red from tears, “you owe me so many answers, embry call. too many for you to even count.” embry laughed a little, letting the tears he held back fall down his cheeks, nodding as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

he did give you answers. all of them. he told you about when and how... and why. he told you that after the cullens left, he stopped shifting so much. he wasn’t as busy anymore, no longer needing to patrol the woods for roaming leeches. after they left, the trouble they brewed followed.

he calmed your worries before you even spoke of them, promising that everything was okay, and that you’d be the first to know if they weren’t. he all but promised to keep you safe.

later, when he asked you on a date, you agreed as fast as ever. you had claimed that you already thought you were together. embry sort of died a little at that, peppering little kisses over your face.

he only told you about imprinting after having an established relationship so you could get used to the wolf thing.

made sure to explain to you that he loved you before it happened.

dating embry was... simple. it was like being his best friend with the exception of intimacy.

he loved cuddling, and always found a way to pull you into his embrace when you weren’t looking.

he was literally glued to your hip. in the kitchen, he hugged you from behind.

on the couch, he preferred to pull you into his lap or against his side, arms wrapped around you.

honestly

this man would use your chest or hips/butt as a pillow, you are not getting away from that.

dating embry also means cooking. a lot. you had practically beg emily for her muffin recipe before she finally caved. she made you swear it to secrecy.

when you first made them, embry had walked into your home and nearly cried in excitement. he was not expecting the sweet smell to greet him when he opened the door.

when you’re sick, you have to shove embry out the door. while it’s nice to know that he’s worried about your well being, he’s extremely annoying. and you love him for it.

he settles for pressing kisses to your forehead when you’re sound asleep.

embry also is the kind of guy to be like, “do yOu nEed heLP?!1?!?1” :/

no sir they does not but thank u for asking

“arE yOu sURe??1??” :// dude if u don’t stop ✋

he means well but sometimes you really have to grab his face and press your forehead to his nd say, “embry. i am more than capable of doing this by myself. i need u to sit down and be quiet or do something else because i am b u s y” instantly makes him check out for a hot second tbh

he knows you’re more than capable and that you don’t need his help, but like???? he’s still?? like he wants to ask and be helpful all of the ti m e

this usually happens when you’re making dinner for him or something

he feels bad cause he feels like you do too much for him

so you usually tell him that he can help clean up HDHSJ

when you told your parents that you guys were dating, they were all like, “oh baby,,, we already knew that” they have been planning your guys’ wedding since u turned 10 and they caught u guys holding hands

maybe u join jake nd quil in teasing embry

you have to make it up with kisses

embry strikes me as a pouty type... not like, the annoying?? pouty??? but a cute pouty. one kiss to his forehead tho and he’s g o n e

anyway,, dating embry is as easy as counting. he’s loveable and sweet and he’s funny and the love of your life.

the person who requested this brought up marriage too but this is already too mfing long u feel

so maybe another day

bye bye now

[hargrove-mayfields]

this is part two of this fic if you want to read that first!! warnings in the tags!

When they finally make the leap out of Hawkins, they move into a one story in Oregon, of all places. It’s not California, but it’s close by, and the doctors say that for the sake of Billy’s lungs, he needs a more mild climate than he’d have there. Besides, Billy insists that anyplace is home enough for him as long as Steve’s with him.

After a few months of living there with a nagging sense that something was missing from the space, they’re able to complete their new home when they find an upright piano for next to nothing on the side of the road to replace the old grand they had to leave behind at Steve’s parents place.

It’s much less sophisticated than what they’re accustomed to, the finish had long ago chipped off and half of the yellowed keys played the wrong notes, but they’re able to fix it up with some work.

Once it’s presentable, shined up and once again functioning properly, it sits like a trophy in the corner of their dining room, a symbol of what they could do with music. That graceful ability to grow and to change and to heal that they were so familiar with, and of the love that developed between them on the bench.

Billy plays more than Steve does, to keep himself occupied when he’s on his own and itching to get out there and break every rule of his recovery laid down by his doctors.

Even after he regains most of his strength, his hands no longer shaking from the simplest of tasks, the piano never loses its power to keep him out of his thoughts, chasing away nightmares and rampant fears so he can feel like himself.

The sounds of Billy’s playing carrying through their houses, the soft twinkling of keys as the first rays of sunshine cut through curtained windows is like an alarm clock, has Steve waking up in a bliss each morning.

Even in the winter, when the cold is especially hard on Billy’s body, his scars sore like they’re still new and his joints stiff and aching, he’s guaranteed to be up to play at the first rays of the morning sun, usually before Steve is even up for work.

One particularly snowy morning, when Steve wakes up to the usual melody of Billy’s playing with the sun in his eyes, he takes a moment to just stay in bed and revel in the warm music drifting in the room before he realizes he’s slept through his alarm.

He panics for a moment, shoves his glasses onto his face crooked and stumbles out of the bed fast enough he almost trips over the comforters still wrapped around him, but in his effort to stay upright he notices a note on the nightstand.

In Billy’s shaky handwriting it reads, “School’s cancelled. Thought I’d let you sleep in -B”

Steve chuckles to himself over the mix-up, and peeks out the window past thick curtains to see a few inches of snow that wasn’t there when they’d gone to bed the night before. He’s not one to say he hates his job, or even dislikes it, teaching is what he’d always wanted to do, but a thousand times over he’d rather be given the chance to stay at home with Billy.

Without bothering to change out of his pajamas, he pads down the hall into the kitchen, focusing on the song drifting in from the dining room, one he doesn’t think he recognizes, as he starts to make their morning white tea.

Billy would’ve rather it be a morning coffee, but that much caffeine is bad for his heart, so they settle for tea with honey and a pinch of sugar.

“Mornin’, Stevie.” Without looking up, he acknowledges Steve as he enters with two steaming mugs. “Did you get my note?”

“Wouldn't I be out the door by now if I hadn’t?” Steve sets their teas on the corner of the dining table to cool, and sits down so he’s straddling the bench. He situates himself so he can wrap his arms loosely around Billy’s braced torso, and rest his cheek against his shoulder so he can watch scarred hands as they glide across the keys.

Billy chuckles, smiles down at the keys. “Touché.”

Once he’s settled, Steve sighs through his nose and asks, “What’s that you’re playin’?”

“S’a song called When.” This tip of Billy’s tongue pokes out just between his teeth, his concentration on what he’s playing intense. He acknowledges Steve again when he reaches a slower part of the song. “You wanna hear it?”

An answer isn’t really necessary, Billy knows undoubtedly that Steve is interested in anything he does, but he gives a confirmation regardless. “You know I do.” He shifts until he’s comfortable against Billy’s side, and Billy starts into the song.

His voice is much better than before, now that his throat is healed. It’s still a little gravelly, gets deeper when he sings where Steve’s gets higher, but it’s smooth and warm and just about Steve’s favorite sound in the whole world.

Closing his eyes, Steve focuses on just listening to the magical sounds that Billy can make, on feeling the soothing vibrations of his voice as he works through the piece.

With words the song is vaguely familiar, and it’s truly a beautiful thing.

It’s a ballad to nature, ironic for someone who spends most of his day confined to indoors or his own backyard. The song is gentle, full of pretty trills to accentuate even prettier lyrics, but it takes on a melancholy tone, given the context.

Appreciation for life, for the world and everything good within it is something anyone can relate to, but apply it to a sick man and it changes the meaning drastically. Gives it more a sense of longing for these things, and it’s got Steve feeling overwhelmed by its sincerity.

Typically, Billy favored songs he thought were fun like The Bitch is Back and piano covers of songs far too hard core for the dainty instrument, so it’s surprising, hearing him pouring his heart out through an actual ballad, but Steve is glad for it, that fond and warm feeling growing in his chest at hearing Billy’s song.

The song trills one more time into a slow crescendo, and finishes off in a way that Steve couldn’t have been expecting with the words, ““When the whole world is filled, with Mother Nature's noises… that's the time to stuff cotton in your ears!”

The change of tone in the song is so abrupt it makes Steve open his eyes again and pull away from his hold around Billy’s waist, keeping his fingers linked but leaning way back to look at his face. Billy’d duped him, had him feeling all emotional before revealing his cards, his normal sense of humor.

He’s wearing a smile, crooked and relaxed as he takes in Steve’s reaction, the confusion at the pace change. Despite the humor twinkling in his eyes, he asks innocently, “What?”

“Nothing.” Steve can’t help but smile back, even if he shakes his head at Billy’s choice of song.

Still smiling, Billy kisses him, soft and slow in a way that has always made Steve feel like it was the first time, his heart doing backflips while he melts into the bench.

They pull away for a breath, and the moment passes bittersweet, just as many do these days. Giggle almost always turn to tears anymore, and Steve feels his lip start to tremble, feels Billy put a hand on the small of his back so he can pull him closer and sigh into his hair.

Billy’s dying.

The doctors say he’s only got a few years left in him, if that. His heart is worn out from too many surgeries and medications to keep the hole in his chest closed.

They can’t fix it for fear of doing nothing but speeding up the process. They’re stuck with the recommendation to take him home and make him comfortable that nobody ever wants to hear, especially not now, when they’re still young, supposed to be living their lives to the fullest.

He’s already lived longer than they initially estimated when his body started rejecting the transplanted lung a while back, but he’s sick, getting sicker all the time.

The weight he’d been able to put back on in the years following that initial hospital stay was gone again, and his lung capacity was worse every day to the point that even with the oxygen tubes he felt breathless and dizzy, and he was coughing up blood.

Steve doesn’t know what he’ll do when Billy’s gone. Doesn’t know if he’ll keep teaching, if he’ll leave the area, he doesn’t like to dwell on it too much.

But what he does know for sure, is that the house will never be silent, and the piano won’t be covered. Won’t be forgotten in that corner or left unplayed after he goes.

It will stay just where Billy left it, to commemorate him and all he’d done with it, to honor and remember his music through Steve’s own.

Moments like these, fleeting as they are, are everything to Steve anymore. When Billy isn’t here anymore, all he would have were the memories of mornings like these and every second together with him, sealed in a box in his heart where nobody could touch them.

To lose the person behind that, there are no words that can describe how hard that’s going to be. Loss has never been easy for Steve, and having time to anticipate it did nothing but draw out the pain of knowing what was coming, what he’d have to let go of.

But it wouldn’t hurt forever.

Of course he would allow himself the time to mourn, how couldn’t he, when he’d be losing the only person who’d been able to take every wish and dream he could ever have possibly had and make them all come true, who’d ever really loved him. But he promised Billy, and himself, that he wouldn’t let himself be sad.

Because he refuses to remember him by his lows, all the countless days spent in the hospital, sleepless nights when he’d have coughing fits and be in so much pain he couldn’t sleep, the teary eyed panic attacks when something triggered a bad memory. That wasn’t Billy.

When the time comes, Steve wants to keep making music. To use the very tool he’d given Billy after government conspiracy and more than a year in the hospital, back then to offer him an outlet to feel better, to now keep his memory alive. Give him a legacy.

In the moment, Steve lets Billy wipe away his tears and pull him closer still to kiss the top of his head. He chokes back a sob listening to that wavering heartbeat from where he’s drawn close, and tries to chase the thoughts away.

Because they’re here now. Billy isn’t gone yet and Steve isn’t letting go. Right now, there’s still time to create more moments to hold onto, to create something beautiful, melodic, powerful.

Steve taught Billy to play the piano, but Billy taught Steve how to live in the moment, how to care for someone with all of his heart. More than anything, Billy taught Steve how to grieve.

[irrfahrer]

🍼 (Because why not x))

Send in 🍼 and I'll create a Child for our Characters !! - name: Jinn-Ru Springdancer (Odiz'Zee translated into Galactic Basic means Springdancer but Ziv never translated her Name)

- likes / dislikes: As Tynnan are prone to multiple-births, Jin-Ru has two siblings of the same "litter of pups"- not twinsiblings, but born at the same time. Since he probably grew up on a wild Planet in the process of terraforming for the first years those siblings had been the only people he had been around beside his mother, so he is very close to his siblings. Only later when the planet is settled on and safer would he meet other people and children, but his special bond with his siblings stayed.

Jinn-Ro can not stand the taste and texture of raw fish, which is in itself hilarious because he is a carnivore and the Tynnan species usually only eat seafood. He also hates fishing and in general everything connected to fishing since he very easily gets cold when swimming and he does not likes slimey things wriggling around in his paws.

- first word: "Ayy", he meant Zivs Reeksa-Plant "AyyAyy" that usually creeped out of their container and had curled around Jinn-Rus cradle to watch over the pup as they usually curl around Ziv when she is sleeping to watch over her like a watchdog. Since Ziv would often sleep with Jinn-Ru and his sibling next to her as long as he is small, AyyAyy just curled around all of them. Considering Jinn-Ru probably grew up on a wild Planet in the process of terraforming for the first twenty years of his life it might had been a very good thing the cub had his personal watchdog due to the wild planets fauna.

- appearance: Jinn-Ru is a Tynnan-Human-Hybrid with a Tynnan Mother, so he is obviously looking not exactly humanish for Human eyes. He has a Tynnan face with a dark snout, but with bigger eyes of a blue colour and clearly visible eyewhite. His ears are not pointy but more round and the pelt he is covered in is of a blondish light strawberry red colour with freckles covering his snout and the inside of his ears. Jinn-Ru is for a Tynnan very tall and suprisingly slim as he is lacking not only the natural protetcive layer of fat but also the isolating thick pelt of a Tynnan. With that he is not made to withstand cold waters and temperatures like Ziv is and in fact would run very fast into the danger of hypotermia if he would try to live like a Tynnan. Jinn-Ru has four fingers and toes with a extra finger and toe on each paw that is underdevelopted, small and barely moveable. When he accidentally hooks behind things with this extra toes or fingers, he usually curses very loudly that he actually wants to surigocal remove those since years. Since Jinn-Ru did not grew up on Tynna between Tynnan he keeps his frontteeth like Ziv extremly short and does not use them as tools and he wears clothes, which in his personal case he actually needs because his pelt is not very much isolating.

- which parent they look more like: Considering Jinn- Ru is a Hybridchild with a Non-Humanoid Mother his anatomy is very much like Zivs. For someone who is not used to seeing Tynnan and is not used to the species features, he would look like a very normal Non-Human who might be a little tall for his species. However, if put infront of a Tynnan who unlike Ziv grew up on Tynna they would promptly see how "off" Jinn-Ru looks: He is a lot of taller than a average Tynnan and has a very unusual coloration of hair and eyes in contrast to a Tynnans dark pigmentation. In the same manner his eyes are "uncomfortable" humanish and it is easy to see where he is looking at as his eyewhite is clearly visible. His pelt is with thin hairs that are smooth and do not block as much coldness as needed and he is lacking the natural bladder of Tynnan for isolation so he is also not only very tall but also as slim as a willow. If one would therefor put Obiwan next to Jinn-Ru, it would be pretty obvious who he looks more like as all he got from Ziv are the Tynnan features.

- which parent they like more: Due to lack of contact with Obiwan, there is not much option or choice. Jin-Ro would obviously know his other parent is a Non-Tynnan-Alien, as thinking anything else would be pretty stupid, but he would not know more.

- height once fully grown: 159 cm and with that over 19 centrimetre taller than the averge Tynnan. Also this makes him 39 centrimetre taller than Ziv who is due to her albinism and sickly condition as a child a runt and therefor far below average for her species. This also makes him 23 centrimetre shorter than Obiwan, which would put him on chin height for Obiwan.

- job ambition: Jinn-Ru probably grew up from the age of Ten with different groups of settlers going down on the terraformed planet Ziv had worked it to prepare for settlers, so his education was not only of a basic but also included everything people needed a extra hand for. EVentually he ended focusing on cooking as he has through Ziv a keen understanding of medicine, alien anatomy and Flora and therefor very easily could make meals out of what grew around him and that would definitive not kill people off with poison. He also as a Tynnan has a very keen sense of smell and taste and therefor had a natural talent for cooking and combinating tastes. After he became a adult he left the now populated planet and became a Chef on different starstations. He still avoided working with fish, if he could.

- faceclaim: Hes a non-human-alien.

[ @thelightsabcr ]

[courier-sux]

20 OTP Questions

tagged by @potatocrab​​​, thank you!! these two deserve something sweet after all the stuff i put them through lol

tagging: @ani-stark​​, @synicalchaos​​​, and anyone else who’s got a ship they wanna gush about <3

Jackal & Boone — “Problem Solvers”

1. Who can out-drink the other?

They’re the same height, but Boone is definitely more of a unit than Jackal. He’ll always have her beat even if she does hold her liquor pretty well.

2. Who says “I love you” more?

For a long time, the main reason Boone doesn’t tell Jackal how he feels is because of the lingering belief that saying “I love you” out loud is just asking for the universe to screw them over. It takes a while for him to grow out of that mindset — even when he does, Jackal says it more often. After keeping her mouth shut for so long, the novelty of being able to say it whenever she wants never really wears off. She knows how he feels long before they’re able to talk about it (and I’m not giving away who cracks first), but it’s appreciated when he says it back.

3. Who has trouble sleeping alone?

Both of them really struggle to sleep alone. Jackal is prone to paranoia and sleeps fitfully without anyone around to protect her. Meanwhile, Boone has a hard enough time falling and staying asleep even when Jackal is near due to his anxiety, insomnia, and PTSD — holding/being held by her is a much-needed reminder that they’re both safe, and a great comfort when he wakes up from a nightmare.

4. Who swears more?

Jackal, if only because she’s more vocal in general. Boone’s no saint either.

5. Who does more of the housework?

They split it pretty evenly. It’s easy to give Jackal a tool and direct her energy into doing something productive, but it’s just as easy for her to get distracted or forget what she was supposed to be doing. She’s the type to let things pile up before dealing with them all at once. Boone’s able to reliably stick to a routine.

6. Who forgets their anniversary?

They don’t really have an anniversary until they get married, about five years after their first meeting. Until then it’s somewhat up in the air as to what it would be — whether it’s when they confessed, when they first slept together, when they told their friends, etc. I can’t really see either of them forgetting, though Jackal can be somewhat absent-minded at times — Boone would just find it funny and wait to see how long it took her to remember. He’d probably hear her yell “WAIT, TODAY’S OUR ANNIVERSARY” from the other room as soon as she did.

7. Who steals the duvet in their sleep?

Boone, and this was something Jackal learned pretty quickly the first time they shared a bed. She gets revenge by sticking her cold hands up his shirt when he wakes up. In the meantime, she’ll just end up human backpack-ing.

8. Who keeps the other awake at night with their snoring?

It’s a good thing Jackal usually falls asleep first, because Boone snores often, especially if he lays on his back. She hates doing anything to disturb him while he’s sleeping and has gotten pretty good at tuning it out, but if it’s really keeping her awake, she’ll try to turn his head so he stops.

9. Who finds stray animals and begs the other to let them keep them?

Jackal, 100%. This only gets worse once she has kids, because they do the exact same thing and Boone has an even harder time saying no to them. They end up with like four dogs, two cats, and a gecko.

10. Who usually makes dinner?

Boone. I’ve mentioned Jackal’s questionable cooking skills before — basically, if you want to avoid a fire or a mess, it’s best to leave it to someone else. She usually helps out by chopping ingredients (as she enjoys any excuse to use a knife), doing dishes, or just keeping him company.

11. Who plays their music out loud?

Jackal has her Pip-Boy (or any available radio) tuned to Radio New Vegas almost all the time, especially if she’s traveling or working on something — it helps her focus. Even when there isn’t any music playing, she’ll provide her own by humming, tapping her foot, or singing under her breath. The familiar sound of her voice/movement helps Boone get to sleep when it’s her turn to keep watch.

12. Who hogs the bathroom?

Definitely Jackal, especially if she’s dressing up or trying to look nice. That hair doesn’t style itself.

13. Who gives the most compliments?

It’s the resident smooth-talker, Jackal. She’s not afraid to point out when she thinks Boone looks particularly handsome, and it always puts a smile on his face. Boone is more likely to silently admire, but the rarity of his compliments makes them carry more weight.

14. Who usually starts/causes arguments between them?

Boone usually causes arguments, while Jackal’s temper is what escalates them. His tendency to try to shut her out is incredibly frustrating to her at times. Before they finally get into a relationship (and both go to therapy lmao), they have some pretty bad fights, often ending with one or the other storming away before they cool off and apologize — luckily, this means they don’t have nearly as many fights once they’re together.

After they get married, their main argument tends to be in regards to Jackal being reckless and Boone being overprotective because he’s terrified of something happening to her — especially once she’s pregnant. He gets angry, but it’s all a result of the fear of losing his spouse and child again. Though Jackal doesn’t like feeling controlled or stifled, she tries to be more careful once she realizes why he’s upset.

15. Who isn’t afraid to embarrass the other in public?

Of course it’s Jackal. She definitely tries to use cliche pick-up lines on Boone or whispers stuff in his ear to make him flustered.

16. Who gives the other cringe-worthy pet names?

Jackal, and this starts well before they’re in a relationship as a result of Boone’s refusal to give her his first name. Most of them are just words that rhyme with his name — Boone Moon (or Blue Boone), Kaboone, Boonedocks, etc. As they grow closer, Jackal starts referring to him using her limited Spanish, either with terms of endearment/compliments (cariño, guapo), or good-natured insults (tonto, idiota). These confuse Boone for a while, and it doesn’t help that she usually lies about their meaning while Raul refuses to explain because he thinks it’s funny. Once they’re together, she usually refers to him as cariño or Boonie — calling him Craig is reserved for when she’s pissed at him.

17. Who fusses over the other when they get sick?

Boone is one of the few people who can get Jackal to actually stay in bed when she’s sick — otherwise, she won’t take it seriously and will end up getting worse. He’s more of a worrier just in general, so he does his best to take care of her when she needs it.

18. Who finds it impossible to stay angry at the other for long?

Boone has a hard time staying mad at Jackal. She’s too damn charming, especially if she’s actively trying to get on his good side again. I think I’ve referenced this video before, but Julien dancing with Jenna to distract her and her inability to stay angry (“I can’t stand you when you’re like, so charming and sweet” / “Wait, I was mad a second ago!”) always reminds me of Jackal and Boone.

19. Who clings to the other for comfort when they’re sad or scared?

If one of them is sad, scared, or panicked, the first thing they do is turn to the other. Jackal’s more likely to seek that comfort out, but she can tell when Boone needs it too — whether it’s shame or guilt that stops him, he appreciates it when she reaches out first.

20. Who is more ‘physically passionate’? (hugs, kisses, or maybe more…)

Both of them are very physically affectionate, as they share physical touch as a main love language. It’s pretty common to see them casually touching in some way or another when they’re together — whether it’s holding hands, putting an arm around the other, or simply sitting close enough for their thighs to touch. Jackal is usually the one to initiate more intimate gestures, but Boone returns them tenfold. He has a much easier time expressing how he feels when he doesn’t have to use words to do it — it’s the best way for him to show his love.

[i-love-glitchy]

The Fifteenth Time

 - pairing: android!Virgil/core!Glitchy   - genre: fluff  - warnings: none   - rating: G   - word count: 1400  - summary: Glitchy visits Virgil for repairs again. Virgil gives him some advice.

AO3 ver.

a/n: there’s extremely little content of this ship. so i’m taking matters into my own hands lmao.

"This is the fifteenth time you've come in this week, Glitchy, and it's only Wednesday. What did you do this time?" 

Virgil, hearing the other core enter, spun himself around until he was facing the doorway. Glitchy came in so often for repairs that Virgil was able to tell when he came in without needing to keep an eye on the entrance to his repair wing. The aforementioned core hung inside the doorway, looking more damaged than usual. His optic had a pretty severe crack, his outer hull was dented in several places, and the poor thing emitted rather painful-looking sparks each time he moved. Glitchy raised his lower eyelid in a meek smile and cautiously approached Virgil.

"I-I thought that maybe my true purpose was to swim..." He finally answered. As he spoke, he averted his optic in an embarrassed manner. Glitchy could feel Virgil's disappointed gaze burning holes in his hull. Or maybe that was just his internal electronics frying. He couldn't tell.

The mechanic let out a deep sigh, his shoulders slumping in disappointment. Of all the stupid things Glitchy did on a daily basis, this stunt was particularly moronic. As annoyed as he was with his friend's antics, he couldn't turn him away. Besides, it's not like he was doing anything particularly important before Glitchy came in. He wasn't going to let him off easy, though.

"So you threw yourself into a pond? Jeez, Glitchy... I used to think that no one could be dumber than Wheatley, but I think you've just proven me wrong. Water and electronics don't mix," Virgil chided. "You really should know better by now." He reached up and pulled the core off of the management rail, being careful to not damage him further. Glitchy was rather delicate for a core (despite the way he acted) and one wrong move could set him ablaze. The core continued to avoid eye contact and stayed silent as Virgil checked him over to determine what repairs would need to be done. After a few moments, Virgil hummed thoughtfully and carefully set Glitchy down on his repair table. "Well, there is some good news. I've seen you in worse condition. The bad news is the damage is still pretty bad, and I haven't even opened you up yet. The way you're sparking suggests that there's water damage."

"B-But it's still fixable... right?" Glitchy asked hopefully, finally meeting Virgil's eyes. He flinched as the motion set off another spark, and he whimpered quietly. Virgil gave him a comforting pat before turning to rummage around in his drawers for tools.

"The external stuff is easily fixed. I can smooth over those dents and replace your optic without issue. After that's done, I'll have to open you up and see exactly where the damage is. Luckily, the important parts like your voice processor and motherboard seem to be okay, and those are the hardest to replace," Virgil explained. After a few moments of searching, he held up his chosen tools triumphantly. "Aha! Here they are."

He turned back to Glitchy, the core looking at him nervously. Virgil set the tools down beside him and gently rubbed the top of Glitchy's 'head' in an attempt to calm him down. "Trust me, you've been in worse condition and I was still able to repair you. You've been through this hundreds of times. It'll take a while, but I'll do everything I can, okay?" Virgil spoke in a softer tone than before. He was still ticked off that Glitchy would do something so stupid as to throw himself into a body of water, but he didn't want him to be in pain or fear even if it was his own damn fault he got damaged. Glitchy nodded, and Virgil finally took his hand off of him. Virgil didn't quite understand why he felt compelled to be so affectionate towards the other core. That definitely wasn't like him. He chalked it up to just wanting to make Glitchy feel better and set to work.

Of course, he didn't forget to turn off Glitchy's pain simulation protocols. As he did, the core breathed an audible sigh of relief. Or at least, he simulated breathing a sigh of relief. Honestly, Virgil didn't understand why the bots had simulated breathing. Actually, now that he thought about it, he didn't understand why cores did a lot of the things they did. He snapped himself out of his thoughts and began the repair process.

Virgil was gentle as he worked. It shouldn't have mattered, since Glitchy wouldn't feel it anyways, but Virgil didn't want to make the damage worse. The two stayed silent for a while, the only sound in the room being the soft clanging of tools against metal. Eventually, Virgil couldn't take the silence anymore. He decided to tell Glitchy something that he thought about each time the accident-prone core came by.

"Y'know, Glitchy... you don't need to have a defined purpose. Maybe you should take a break from trying to figure it out. And from these reckless stunts."

The core looked at him, dumbfounded. Maybe even a little bit offended. For the entirety of his existence, Glitchy had been teased relentlessly by the others for not having a purpose. All of the other cores did, even if just a very basic or generic one. Why was he surprised that Virgil, someone with a specific and very useful purpose, would say something like this? Glitchy couldn't have possibly expected Virgil to understand, could he?

"You could just tell me if you're tired of me coming in, you know. I certainly wouldn't blame you."

"That's not what I said and you know it. I just hate seeing you hurt all the time, that's all." Virgil gave him another reassuring pat before resuming his work. He had already replaced Glitchy's optic and smoothed out all of the dents. All that was left was to work on the internal parts. He set his tools back down so he could finish speaking. "Having a purpose is overrated. Once you have one, it's all anyone expects you to do. Like me, for example. I love my job, sure, but it does get boring sometimes. But I can't do anything about that because repairing cores and test chambers is what I'm supposed to do."

He turned Glitchy onto his side so that he could access his internal components. The core stayed silent, mulling over Virgil's words. Virgil was relieved to find that the damage was not nearly as severe as he'd previously thought. All he needed to do was replace a few wires here and there and Glitchy would be as good as new. He continued to talk as he worked.

"I'm a little jealous that you have the freedom to do whatever you want with your time."

Glitchy blinked and looked up at Virgil. No one had ever told him this before. The idea of someone envying him had never crossed his circuits.

"A-Are you sure you're not just saying that to make me feel better?"

Virgil sighed and gave Glitchy a gentle smile.

"I mean it, Glitchy. You should stop being so self-deprecating."

"S-Sorry..." Glitchy looked away again. Maybe Virgil was right. Or maybe his true purpose was not having a purpose. He decided he would need to think about it more. Glitchy silently thanked Virgil for the new perspective.

After a few more moments, Virgil had finally finished the repairs. He set the tools down one final time and picked Glitchy up again, double-checking that he'd fixed everything that needed to be fixed. Finding no further damage, he re-attached Glitchy to the management rail. "There you go! Good as new! Told you I'd fix you, right?" 

Glitchy nodded and raised his lower eyelid happily, his optic shining brightly. "Thanks, Virgil!"

Virgil smiled. "Please be more careful. I like your company, but it makes me sad to see you hurt."

Glitchy nodded again. "I-I won't do it again. Hopefully the next time I come is just for a regular visit and not for repairs. I'll see you later!"

Virgil watched as the core left the repair wing and disappeared down the hallway. He hoped Glitchy's visit would be soon. It got rather lonely in the repair wing sometimes. Once the other core was gone from sight, Virgil returned to what he was working on before Glitchy had came in.

Not even ten minutes passed before a sheepish, lower-handle-less Glitchy came back into Virgil's office.

"Virgil.... My handle fell off again..."

[itshummelswitch]

JOKURT | Lights, Camera, Action.

When: May 9th, 2020

Where: Riley Hummel’s house, back bedroom.

Who: Kurt Hummel & Jonah Price | @subitupjonah

Event: Jonah helps Kurt set his cam boy equipment up, dirty talk ensues - obvious lead to sexual contact.

As he had been told by Kurt Hummel himself, Jonah got escorted by the guard called Max to the Dominant's living quarters that he had familiarized himself with by now-- only, he couldn't say he was used to being in the other Hummel's resident, but since that's there the whole thing would be set up, that's where he was being taken, as he had promised to help Kurt with it.

Finally reaching the building, he gave the door a few quick knocks before hiding one of his hands behind his back to conceal the present he had bought for Kurt-- it wasn't much, just something he thought he would consider useful with his new career being a thing. With Riley out of the house and at work, that left Kurt cradling his arm in the new sling provided to him to ensure he didn't get tempted to use it more then he should be. Even if he was stubborn in knowing his arm was fine, he hated getting those death glares by his twin and just agreed to wear it when he was mobile and doing work type things.

Pulling the door open when Jonah arrives, he can't help but to grin. Jonah was always a welcomed face in his opinion, and even getting to see Max again was also great. Waving with the hand tucked in the sling to the guard before waving Jonah in. "Don't worry, this is only a precaution." He indicates the sling while shutting the door. "Getting that out before you ask - I'm fine. Can I get you anything to drink?" When Kurt had told him he had had some kind of injury with his arm, he hadn't expected to see him in a sling, which automatically made him believe the worst before the Switch mader sure to tell him it was only for precaution. "Well, damn, you gotta be more careful, whatever it was that you did. I hope it'll be healed soon", he offered before showing him one of his trademark charming smiles. "Nah, I'm good. I'm here at your service, so.. what do you need me to do? Oh, and..." Bringing out the hand he was hiding behind his back, he handed over a neatly wrapped present to Kurt. "It's for, uh... your new gig. A welcome gift or something", he shrugged. "Thought it might come in handy between breaks." There's a soft laugh as he steps away from the door and journeys further into the foyer with a shake of his head. "It'll heal soon enough in a few weeks. Riley just wants to make sure I'm reminded but time lift anything. I can move it fine." Even making sure he takes his arm out of the sling to make a point, wiggling his fingers, then replaces it again. Even if it made him feel useless and helpless, he had made a promise.

Only the talk of a present gets him peeking again with interest. Accepting the wrapped gift, chewing on his bottom lip as anticipation on what it could be. Awkwardly holding it in his injured hand, he uses his working one to unwrap it, not even hiding the bounce he has while doing it. "Well, as long as you can move it fine, then I guess there's no reason to worry", Jonah points out, feeling somewhat relieved that it wasn't more serious than that. He wasn't about to press more about it though, either, since Kurt now had cleared up the fact that he was fine.

He feels awkward as he lets Kurt open up the present-- it was a bit more expensive than he had intended at first, because he was so used to spending money. Now he had to be more mindful, but it was still easy to forget with his old habit of going on a spending spree. He just hopes that Kurt likes it or that he will at least use it between takes-- a comfortable silk robe that would look any man look good. "I hope the color is right-- I thought they'd bring out your eyes. It's fine if you don't wanna use it, I just figured you'd  be more comfortable with something to wear between gigs or whatever."

Despite the awkward fumbling, Kurt does manage to get the gift unwrapped successfully. Even to take his arm out of the sling again so he can hold up the item, and get a good look at it. It's gorgeous, that much is evident, and clearly not something cheap either. His things rub through the soft fabric as his face splits into a grin, then softens as he's overwhelmed with being so touched at the gesture. It was one of the most useful and better things someone could've given him, and it wasn't even his birthday. Not yet anyway.

Clutching it to his chest, he hums appreciatively and moves in to wrap an arm around Jonah, holding back from kissing him as he remembered the submissive didn't do that with guys. "Thank you so much, handsome. I love it!" Pressing a kiss to Jonah's cheek any way, he steps back to examine the robe again with a giddy bounce.

"I will definitely be wearing this between shots! And afterwards, because it's so soft and I'll be needing some TLC." Running his hands over the fabric again, he encourages Jonah to follow as he starts the walk through the large gothic house to the back slate bedroom. "Thank you. I definitely owe you one for this bad boy. Just, wow....thank you." "Well, it was either that or a monogrammed pillow with your stage name on it, but I realized I don't know of it yet or if you've come up with one, so..." Jonah's grin widened as the Switch pulled him into a hug, and he didn't mind the kiss on his cheek either. "It's nothing. You owe me nothing, I just figured you like fancy clothing and you look good in 'em, too, and I saw this one and thought, hey, he'd totally rock it in this one." Kurt's face is definitely more pink compared to the usual pale. Between Jonah's flattering words and just being pleased he has been thought about and blessed with such a gift, the Switch felt giddy and bubbly. Definitely putting him into a better mood for the day, over whatever cloud was hanging over the house still. Either that or maybe just the gothic interior design was getting to his paranoid way of thinking - hard to tell.

Carefully hanging he robe up in the closet first, as to not wrinkle it, he smoothed over it once last time then directs Jonah to the layout. Riley and him had managed to do some things before he stupidly hurt himself, but aside from the ring lights, the bed still needed to be adjusted.

"I'm going to need you to take your shirt off, because I really want to enjoy watching you do this." Kurt says automatically, sliding up to Jonah's side and giving a point towards the bed. "I have padding that needs to be drilled into the headboard, and my stage name will hang above it." Giving a point to the metal lettering spelling out 'Porcelaina' with the show lights already lining the middle of the entire word. Even if he didn't point it out directly to him, it was hard for Jonah to miss out on the faint flush on Kurt's face, and it was actually pretty fucking adorable to see, and even more so when knowing that he had been the one to cause it.

His eyes studied the room and landed on the set-up. "You're really going all in, huh? This looks awesome. Well done!" He huffs out a laugh when Kurt asks him to take off his shirt and he doesn't hesitate to get rid of it. If Kurt wanted a show, he'd give him a show, even if the show itself would be him helping him finish this set-up. "You've got it, sir. Whatever you need to have done, I'm at your service." He gave him a wink and a salute. "So better start with the drilling and put the lettering up last for a finishing touch-- you got any tools?" Ignoring the sling for now as he refused to be completely helpless to Jonah, Kurt takes a moment to feel his fingers over Jonah's toned muscles with a thoughtful hum. Clearly enjoying it, and feeding into Jonah's ego as best as he could. Only after that does he pull away, and move towards the other end of the room where Riley has left most of the tools. "Yes! All you should need is right here." He carefully stoops to pick the case up, with his good hand of course, and lifts it to the top of the dresser so he could flip it open revealing said tools inside.

"After that's all set up, you and I can mess up the bed and give it a test run." Winking as he relives the knowledge that it had been just about a week since he last got anything sexual, and his body was vibrating with arousal at the thought of doing something. Anything. Being naked with another person, and sharing space was definitely appealing and he has to push down thoughts of it. For now.

Returning his arm to the sling, he then allows Jonah to go ahead and get things situated. Only stepping in to hold something if he needed to with his good hand - still refusing to be completely useless. Even if he was mostly just taking in how Jonah's muscles moved with every shift the submissive made. Wondering how nice it would feel to be wrapped up in those arms. The mention of testing out the bed once they are done setting it up causes Jonah to grin widely before he throws him a wink. "What point would it be if we didn't at least test it out once, huh?" He agrees, and that is more than enough to get him motivated to get started-- he doesn't want to get too distracted and mess this up and disappoint the Switch, even if he is very skillful with  tools.

So he picks up what is needed and gets started with the padding, making sure that it's lined up perfectly to give Kurt the aesthetic that he wants out of this. He asks for Kurt's assistance when it's needed as well and starts drilling, his eyes focused and with the tip of his tongue peaking out between the corner of his lips. Kurt helped where he could. Using his body weight to hold things if need be. It felt odd not to be able to offer assistance like usual, but at least he was doing it. Soothing his inward paranoia on not pulling his weight. Even if only a little. But they got the padding up, and it was a relief. Already the image of how many times that would soften his exhausted and spent post-orgasm body in falling back was one thing down.

"I know it's extra," he states when they move on to the sign. Something much easier to deal with. "But I always liked the aesthetic of having something displayed above a bed in cam shows, so I'm taking advantage." Giving a general point for the blank wall above the bed. "We need four screws to hang this on. So, the most difficult part will be setting it in. Think you can manage that, handsome?" "Hey, if you wanna go extra, you fucking go extra", Jonah assures the Switch as he checks out the results. It looks so much better now than before. "Besides, I like it.  It looks really cool, and it'll help you get the views-- some people enjoy it more when there's a pretty set-up rather than a boring-ass bedroom."

He looks at the wall where the sign is supposed to sit and lets out a low hum as he nods. "I can handle it, babe, I just need to measure and make sure we can get it up straight-- I'm gonna need some of your help, but don't put too much use to your injured arm and tell me right away if it's hurting. I'll try to be quick about it." So he starts lifting up the sign with Kurt's help and tries to get it as straight as possible so he can mark up where the screws are going. With that done, he gives Kurt another charming grin and reaches for the screws to get started on that. Of course Kurt would feel his face heat up again. The flirting was always appreciated, as was the verbal praise. Mentally storing away the fact that he had an affirmation kink for later use, as he steps in to help Jonah with the sign next. Which doesn't take too long either, and his poor arm is spared further from being strained. Small miracles.

By the time the sign is up, Kurt steps back to admire their - or really Jonah's - work with a satisfied sigh. "Yep. Just how I imagined it!" Taking his arm out of the sling, he clasps his hands together under his chin, and presses his knuckles up against his mouth while swaying from side to side. Showing how pleased he was with the set-up. It was real now. It was a thing. He just had to start a schedule and start posting live and video, and it would be official.

"Thank you so much," Kurt sighs after a moment, turning back to Jonah, reaching for him. Not only for an excuse to touch those muscles he'd been staring at, but also just to ground himself again. "How can I possibly return the favor for you?" It doesn't take long to get the sign up, so Jonah makes sure to clean off some of the dust that came from drilling into the wall and then steps back to check out the now finished work. It looks really good. Professional, even. He turns to look at Kurt to take in his reaction, and seeing the way he's gushing about the display makes him grin foolishly. He totally gets it.

"Dude, that was nothing. I'm just glad I could be of help, and if there's anything else you need, let me know." He raises an eyebrow at the Switch and lets his eyes travel to the hand on his muscles before they return to gaze back at Kurt's face. Not missing a beat, he takes a step forward, his hand moving to the side of Kurt's neck, letting his knuckles slide slowly down his skin. "I believe you wanted a test run..." he suggests. It's a split second flash in the Switches eyes. Something quick like a light switch. But he doesn't miss the indication as the hand touches him oh so gently. It's all he needs before biting his lip, hooking his fingers into the belt loops of Jonah's jeans and pulling him back towards the bed.

Giving an enthusiastic shove on the submissive to make him sit then lie down, Kurt doesn't waste much time in undoing Jonah's pants and tugging them all the way off. "Should I stuff your underwear in your mouth now?" He asks, hands traveling up Jonah's thighs slowly as he climbs an hovers over the other on the bed. A knee pressing right between Jonah's legs, just enough to tease. "Or should I let you beg for me?" He gets the exact reaction that he had expected to get out of Kurt, so Jonah lets out a pleased hum as he is being grabbed by the loops of his jeans, only to get pushed down onto the bed with not much effort. He likes the fact that Kurt isn't wasting any time, which only indicates that he wants this, and has probably wanted this for some time-- and Jonah wasn't going to lie, he has felt some kind of attraction for the switch as well, and now they were finally getting somewhere after all the teasing and flirting.

He smirks as he watches Kurt remove his pants, and huffs out a laugh over his enthusiasm and then his question, causing Jonah to immediately grab onto Kurt's chin as he gives him a teasing smile. "I don't know how I'm supposed to take your cock down my throat with my underwear being in the way, sir."

[reytatouille]

hey so your fjord model completely blew me away; do you have any process pics? If not, can you explain a little of your process, for both fjord and beau? absolutely stunning.

Hey !

Thank you, that’s super nice ! I usually post my progress on Twitter but I can make a recap here ;D

1 - First thing first I make a base model in 3Dsmax. I know a lot of people start in ZBrush directly but A) I am not comfortable enough when it comes to creating from scratch in ZBrush and B) I don’t have to do retopology when I’m done he he. I also think it’s easier to manage a shape with a few points rather than sculpt in it but that’s a personal preference so if you’re more at ease with sculpting, go for it ! For this model I tried to stay relatively low poly (and then people from Ubi told me their models were up to 50K and I realized I could have put more edges).

The ropes are still splines at that point and are not transferred to ZBrush. I later used this tutorial to make a high poly version that was then baked on the low poly:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OxAYvMs117I&t=120s

I put a placeholder for the hair so I could see what the silhouette would look like eventually. 

When I’m done I send the model over to ZBrush !

2 - I import each asset in .obj one by one, starting with the body. To avoid ZBrush making mush out of my shapes when subdividing them, I add one level of subdivision, then come back to the now slightly different first level of subdiv and reimport my original asset. That way it regains its original form and I keep my levels of subdivisions. This method can create some artefact on squared shapes but it’s the only one I found that worked.

When working in ZBrush I try to apply some tips I’ve learned from watching FlippedNormals’ tutorials and work by levels of details: low, middle and high-frequency. Here is the video that explains it the best but I really recommend most of their channel, you learn a ton of important principles when it comes to sculpting ! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VKstQNoI2w0

Second important tip: never work with the default orange material, it lies to you.

ZBrush is also a good moment to check my overall proportions and anatomy. I use the Transpose Master in ZPlugin to make my different subtools one, I move and resize everything that feels off and then I reconvert them into separate objects. You don’t loose any subdivision information and it’s completely undoable so it’s very handy !Another thing when working with ZBrush: step back and look at the whole thing from time to time. Remember where your area of focus should be and check that you didn’t overdo it in areas that shouldn’t draw the focus away. For exemple at the beginning I had spent a lot of time on the folds of the boots at the ankles. Turns out the hard shadows they created were catching the eye too much and drawing the attention away from the face. So I smoothed them down a bit. 

When I’m done with the sculpt it’s time to do some UVs !

3 - For that part I come back to 3dsmax. I use the ZPlugin “FBX Import/Export” to transfer everything at the lowest subdivision level. And then it’s UVs, yay ! I��m not going to explain how to make UVs, I’ll just say I used two UDIMs, one for the whole body and one for the face. Looking back three would have been nice since the hood is too low definition for being so close to the face. I used a checker to make sure all the UVs have the same size.

Beautiful, I know.

When the UVs are done I export each asset one by one in .OBJ to update the ZBrush model. There again I go back to the first level of subdivision and I reimport, it keeps my higher levels of subdiv.

Ok now we have a low poly version and a high poly it is time for texturing and… baking. Oh dear I hate that part.

4 - So, I’m gonna be honest, when it comes to baking normal maps ZBrush has always been the death of me, and since Substance Painter was involved in my process I decided to do everything in Substance. It was my first time using it so I lost a whole day trying to understand how to make it work :)

Basically you start your project by importing your low poly in .fbx, with every asset named NameOfAsset_low. You then can bake your maps by importing your high poly as a fbx, with every asset in it named NameOfAsset_high. And then ask Substance to “match by name”. 

And then time to work ! I can’t really give tips on Substance to be honest, I’m very new at it, but there are tons of very good tutorials out there ! I worked using PBR Metallic Roughness. I made the opacity map for the edges of the cloth by simply taking the smallest brush size I could and painting threads. There’s one thing a recruiter told me once about Substance, that vaguely sounded like “With Substance kids these days don’t know how to paint textures, it’s all automatic”. So I think using the materials available in substance is nice, but you need to work over them after that. FlippedNormals’ channel has videos on Substance and how to think while texturing so I recommend checking those !

Then I just exported all my maps and put them on my model ! For Substance to Arnold there is a good video explaining in which slot goes which map: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kgiZ-ZOEPNg&t=2103s

5 - And now… the hair. The hair was a first too, and it was quite difficult. 

I learned the principle of the method from this video (it’s a very interesting interview with the guy who made the hair for Horizon Zero Dawn):https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z58OQ9x0E68

And I found another tutorial that used the method but with tools I knew how to use (I have never touched xgen in maya and the fibermesh in ZBrush seemed more approachable): https://www.artstation.com/artwork/GW9JB

For baking I used 3dsmax (you really need to up the global supersampler to get something not horrible) and xNormals. 

When I had all my hair strands all pretty and baked I started placing them. I think I put way too many of them and I would certainly do things a little differently but the method itself is good, I think you just need practice to get better results. For the eyebrows and lashes I couldn’t get something satisfying on ZBrush so I painted the maps by hand. The normal map is a combination of xNormals’ HeightToNormal baking and handpainted normal.

And we’re not done yet ! Because that’s a three weeks of work model. 

6 - The rig and skin. I’ll just say I used a CAT from 3dsmax. Those are extremely easy to learn and use with tutorials on youtube and they can really bring a character to life. I merged most of the objects together and then skinned them to the CAT. Here you need to know anatomy but if you want references you can check out Hippydrome, a handy website for modelers and riggers showing where articulations should be and how they work. It can also help with good topology ! https://hippydrome.com/

7 - Lighting and rendering. I used Arnold on 3dsmax for rendering everything. It’s very simple to use once you’ve learned the basics: 

A) for the light settings you use intensity first, exposure second, and you change the color using temperature (Kelvin)B) for rendering settings you start low, you check where the noise is and you up the corresponding samples 

For lighting I used 4 lights. From left to right: a rim light, a key light, a secondary and a fill light. The fill light is a skydome. I used this article to get a good base: https://3dtotal.com/news/inspiration/10-top-tips-for-lighting-and-presenting-your-sculpts-by-james-w-cain-zbrush-hair

And I think that’s all !

As you can see I spent a lot of time researching tutorials, but in parallel I also asked for a lot of feedback from friends who work in the industry. 

For Beauregard I only did modeling on 3dsmax, UVs, handpainted textures in photoshop, rig/skin and rendering in Arnold. She took me a week. For Fjord I introduced new elements and methods: I decided to use ZBrush and Substance, and I wanted to make hair cards. He took me three weeks.I think starting simple with Beauregard helped me figure out a lot of stuff and made it much easier to work on Fjord after. Struggling every step of the way can be overwhelming and make me loose interest in a personal project, so I really recommend starting small and introducing difficulty and new methods when you’re at ease with the basics. Finished is better than perfect !

I hope this will help you in some way. Don’t hesitate if you have specific questions I’ll be happy to answer as best as I can ! 

[char-thenerd]

A Devil in Angel’s clothes

Writing challenge for @bang-tan-bitch

Rating: M (Sexual themes) 

Word count: 2k 

Hoseok x vampire!reader 

“Why did I let you drag me to this?” Y/n asked as the bass began hitting their ears from outside the club.

“Come on y/n you know why we’re here.” Jungkook responded “It’s Halloween, the one day a year where we can feed and no one questions it as anything other than fake blood and a hella good costume. Plus Namjoon is coming and he said he would be down to tag team someone if they were ok with it.” Y/n rolled her eyes, even though Namjoon was only a hundred years older than Jungkook, the younger still looked up to and respected him as if there were centuries difference between the two.  

“When are you just going to decide to fuck him instead of having a sounding board of a human between the two of you?”  Y/n asked right before they walked into the dark club, with lights flashing and costumed bodies dancing to the beat of the music.  

“Who says we haven’t.” He yelled over the thrum of the bass waggling his eyebrows.  “Best orgasm I ever had was when we had one of them tied up and forced him to watch.”

“Good God Kook, I don’t need all the details of how much of an exhibitionist you are.” She faked covering her ears moving further into the club, towards a far booth, their small clan already seated eyes scanning the crowd of people.  She slid down into the booth next to Yoongi while Jungkook took his spot next to Namjoon, the older putting his arm possessively around the younger.  

“Almost thought you guys wouldn’t make it, I was about ready to go find someone to feed on with Tae.” He commented looking at the both of them nodding towards Taehyung already grinding on a girl dressed as an angel out on the dance floor.  

“We would have got here on time Joon but y/n took forever as per usual.”  Jungkook said

“Oh no don’t you dare try and blame this on me, you were the one that changed four times before saying you should have just stuck with the first outfit you put on.”

“Hey, we can argue about this later. The rest of the group Tae’s girl was with all seem to have potential for us.”  The three of them followed his gaze towards a group of guys standing on the edge of the dance floor with matching costumes, one as an angel, two as devils.  The tallest devil had broad shoulders, plump lips, dark hair parted to reveal his forehead with a stern but soft gaze.  The smaller devil had silver hair with plump lips to rival the taller.  Next to the two of them, the angel seemed out of place, his frame between the other two in size with flaming red hair to match the others’ costumes.  He was uncomfortably pulling at the white costume, looking like he wanted to be anywhere but where he was currently.  The four of them looked at each other then back to the small group.  

“Something doesn’t feel right about this.” Y/n voiced warning bells going off in her head “Can we find others?”  

“What are you not up to the challenge?” Namjoon asked looking at her smiling.  

“No, something is just off about them.”  They all turned to look at the three men.  After a minute Yoongi broke the silence that had fallen over them.  “You know I like docile ones so I’ll take the smaller of the devils.”  Y/n tried to get him to wait but he already made up his mind. 

“Go get him cowboy.” Jungkook said smacking his ass as he stood up and made his way over to the smaller one, whispering in his ear before leading him on to the dance floor

“Y/n,” Namjoon said drawing her attention. “If you don’t want to feed tonight, it’s ok you can head home.”

“It’s not that Joon, I just am getting weird vibes off the group.” 

“I just think you’re over reacting” Jungkook told her before turning to Namjoon. “Lets go snag the other devil before someone else does.” Jungkook tried to get up but Namjoon grabbed his sleeve to keep him in place eyes full of worry looking at Y/n. With an exasperated sigh  he spoke again challenging her. “Y/n I’ll give you the big bed for the next century if you manage to get him to dick you down.”  

“Is that a dare?” She asked with him smirking at her and nodding.  She hated the feeling in her gut but couldn’t refuse, the big bed was the most comfortable shit in their house. Gritting her teeth she tried to ignore the feeling that was causing her stomach to do back flips. 

“Watch and learn from the best.”  He added before sliding out of the booth Namjoon in tow.  She watched as they made their way over to the two, the larger quickly being pulled onto the dance floor.  After a few minutes of watching her target turn his back on the dance floor and head over to the bar. She slowly slid out of the booth and made her way over to him.  

“You know, with hair that color I have to think a devil is hiding in angel’s clothing.” She said into his ear making him jump slightly. “Shall we see if my idea is correct?” She asked once he turned to look at her holding out his hand.  

“You know, normally the guy hits on the girl but when the girl is as pretty as you, I have no complaints.”  He responded taking her had as they slowly made their way across the dance floor. She quickly scanned as she walked, looking for her brothers and found them each with their prey.  Taehyung now leaving the floor to exit the club, having started the process much sooner than the others, woman wrapped around his arm trying to continue making hickeys across his neck.  Yoongi and his devil were currently making out, bodies entwining to the point that she couldn’t tell where one started and the other ended.  Namjoon and Jungkook always the boldest of the clan, were also in the process of leading their devil off the floor and out of the club.  Y/n found a good spot to stop and quickly situate herself in front of her angel, back to chest as the found the rhythm together his hands slid around her waist pulling her closer to him so their hips were slowly grinding together.  “My names Hoseok by the way.”  He said into her ear, gently taking the lobe between his teeth. Once he had let go she turned and said into his ear.

“Y/n” repeating the same motion he had done, biting lightly on the lobe, careful enough to not draw out her fangs to pierce the skin before moving down his neck, leaving a hickey or two making him groan beneath her ministrations. Feeling his heart rate pick up made it nearly impossible to keep her fangs at bay, wanting nothing more than to sink into the soft skin and feel the warm blood trickle down her throat, before she could make that a reality she was brought back from her thoughts as he grabbed her face and pulled her into a blazing kiss, tounges fighting for dominance, making her whimper.   As they continued to make out on the floor she quietly slid her hand between their bodies, he visibly gasped and pulled back from the kiss when she found a bulge forming underneath the tight white pants and began fondling it, taking the opportunity to bite his lower lip while smirking.  

“You cut right to the chase.”  He said with a smile, but still gasping while leaning more into her touch.  

“It doesn’t seem like you’re complaining.” She said lips returning to his neck

“I’m not, it’s just..” His sentence faltered as she continued to palm his growing bulge.

“Come on Angel,” She whispered into his ear “be a good boy and finish that sentence.”

“My apartment is empty tonight.” He finally let out as he continued to shudder under her skilled hands. She finally removed her palm from his crotch and responded, before placing a chaste kiss to his cheek.

“Lead the way angel.” He quickly grabbed her hand and forcefully pulled her off the dance floor and out towards the parking lot. Once they reached what was presumably his car he pulled y/n forward pinning her with his large frame against the door, making her gasp.  He quickly started mouthing at her neck before she felt a strong sharp pain right below his mouth.

“Did you just bite me?” She asked as he murmured a yes against her neck. Realizing the red flags going off in her head were indeed real when the pain in her neck didn’t fade and her vision started to go black around the edges.  “What was that?” She questioned trying to pull out of his grasp.

“You’ll see soon enough y/n” He responded, his voice and demeanor changing completely before her vision faded completely.

As she came to all y/n could feel was a dull pain in her head that was quickly overpowered by the burning around her wrists and ankles.  After trying to rid herself of whatever was burning her she realized she was only in her underwear, shackled with silver and couldn’t escape.  She could hear a familiar whimper beside her, turning to her left to confirm her suspicion, she saw Tae in the exact same state as her, shackled with silver, and stripped to his boxers.  He had broken out in a small sweat, the pain overwhelming, having been there for longer than her.  She turned to her right to see Namjoon and Jungkook in the exact same position but still unconscious and finally on the end there was an empty spot, knowing that it was for Yoongi knowing that all she could do now is pray that they didn’t get him too.  Y/n was drawn from her stupor by the sound of a door.  She turned her head to see Hoseok standing in the doorway, his gaze piercing.  Her gaze shifted to his belt that held varying degrees of weapons and tools, after seeing everything she made the connection to what he was and started laughing.  

“You must be in a lot of pain to be laughing as hard as you are.” He commented his silken voice full of sarcasm.

“Oh yes I'm in pain, but I’m laughing at myself for not realizing what you are sooner.” She responded trying to not let the burn affect the way she spoke to him.

“Oh come on Angel,” He said using her name from the night before “it was easy to miss. I mean us hunters don’t make grand displays of who we are.” He moved closer to her brandishing a knife which she could only assume was silver.  He slowly ran the smooth part of the knife across her bare stomach leaving a burn in its wake, causing her to suck in a breath and squirm, causing the shackles to burn her wrists and ankles even more.  He began chuckling.  “See angel what you didn’t know is that this is how tonight would have always turned out, you writhing under my touch but unfortunately for you, it won’t be pleasurable for you.” He was about to begin cutting a small spot right under her left breast when the woman who was with Tae from the club entered with a smile on her face.

“Everything alright Jisoo?” Hoseok asked

“everything is perfect, Jimin just showed up with the final clan member, Jin is helping get him from the car.”

“Wonderful, we’ll be able to get started.” He responded looking down at y/n. “You did get one thing right this evening y/n.  For your kind, I’m a Devil in angel’s clothing.”  

[maiji]

@logicheartsoul Thank you so much for the kind words ^^ And certainly - thank you for your interest and for asking! I love working with ink so I’m happy to talk about it :D

How I got into it

It's only been in the last maybe five or so years that I've actually started to pay more attention to art supplies. In the case of ink, it really started with fountain pens. Long story short, one of my professors was really into them and let me try one of his vintage pens, and I was vaguely interested. Then my best friend really got into them, and I tagged along to a fountain pen show (shoutout to Scriptus Toronto!!). From there it was a slow burn over a period of months from “this is neat” to “WOWWW OKAY I GUESS I’M REALLY INTO THIS NOW”. It was a (relatively, for me) quick entry once I discovered the online fountain pen community. These people are incredibly passionate, highly articulate, and best of all, document EVERYTHING. I found the ink reviews especially spectacular and that’s probably what hooked me the most.

A few other things that helped in the appeal factor:

I have a tendency to grip writing implements excessively hard and exert a lot of unnecessary pressure when writing or drawing with more conventional pens (ballpoints etc.) A number of people mentioned that fountain pens helped them to alleviate this because generally you don’t need/want to apply pressure when using them. I’ve found it has helped.

I've always been interested in forms that combine words and images, and this merges literary and artistic worlds in a very clear way.

I’ve been on a long personal journey of wanting to incorporate much more Chinese/Taiwanese/East Asian heritage and cultural traditions into my work. Thus, I've been gravitating towards things emphasizing brush, ink, water, elements of calligraphy and... not sure if spontaneity is the word I want, but things that help me overthink less when I draw, and get better at letting go. 

How I work with ink

My (main) tools

Fude de mannen: This is basically a fountain pen that mimics a brush for Asian calligraphy. It has a bent nib that enables you to change stroke thickness by varying your hand angle. I love this pen so much I got a second one so I could have a different colour; the washi tape helps me tell which one it is. You can see more of it in the video interview I did with PindotPress.

Brush pen: A pen that is a brush. lol. A number of companies make them; I use the Pentel Pocket Brush because it's the first one I tried and I liked it a lot. It's smooth, has great line variation, and the tip has yet to fail me. (Although the cap started falling apart, hence all the tape on my first one lol.) I currently have three: one for permanent black, one for permanent red, and one because I couldn’t resist buying a coloured version of the pen (I have Diamine Earl Grey in it right now).

Glass dip pen: These dip pens are pretty but what is super awesome is that they are super easy and fast to clean. I can quickly switch between multiple colours of bottled inks. The grooves in the nib hold ink, so you need to slightly turn the pen as you go to access all the ink. You can also get a wider stroke by slanting the pen and using the side of the glass nib. It's not that easy to control your lines, but I actually like this because it creates a lot of happy accidents. And “oops well damn" accidents, but like I said I’m trying to cultivate the whole “learn to let go" mindset.

Waterbrush: Basically a brush that carries its own water reservoir. I’ve used a few different brands but I find I like the Pentel Aquash small the best. Some people fill them with ink like a brush pen, but I’ve not really done that. (I did it once with a different brand that was harder to open/refill and I got mad.) I use it to paint with the inks.

Pencil I got for free: Unless I really am just doodling, I usually draw base pencils of some sort, even if it’s just a very rough, light sketch or a quick thumbnail on another sheet of paper. Every so often I get an inquiry asking what special kind of pencil I use, but I’m afraid they’re just normal pencils rolled with recycled newsprint. I got free samples like a million years ago and I have been using them forever. (I think I’m finally down to my last three.)

Eraser: I’ve been trying a few different ones but it takes me forever to work through an eraser. You want it to be able to pick up the lines without requiring you to scrub and take the ink too or destroying the fibres of your paper. This one actually works pretty well. If you’re really curious you can see the non-destroyed packaging here! lol

Toilet or tissue paper: Something to pick up the water. This is my "undo button” in real life when I’m painting/using the waterbrush. Also I drown everything with water so it’s very important.

Ink swatches: Every time I get a new ink I make a sample and add it here. It’s great for colour palettes and when I’m looking at other inks and trying to decide whether to get it or not (e.g., is it different from everything I already have? My definition of “different” is very generous...). I don’t actually have all these inks; some were samples from friends. I’ve found I tend to gravitate towards very complex, nuanced neutrals. (This sounds so sophisticated but when you see them all it once it's like. Oh. Apparently I like shades of grey, brown, and other hard to classify "muddy" or in-between colours lmao. But more on that in a bit.) Lately I've been getting glittery inks because they're fun and they add a magical dimension to the physical piece.

Here is my current selection of inks - on the shelf to the immediate left of my laptop and my head as I am typing this right now. The box at the bottom left is all the samples. 

My approach

In my mind, I broadly classify my approach into two categories: “dry” and “wet”.

"Dry" - ink only, no water. I have pretty unsteady hands and hate "inking" - if we think of inking as an exercise in achieving a "clean", controlled line drawing with consistent line width/stroke thickness, neatness, etc. So I love pens that support me in what I think of as controlled loss of control - wide variations in brush width and stroke character. Brush pens and fude de mannen pens are perfect for this. They have lines that offer a wide range of dynamic, organic, and textural opportunity.  My Inktober illustrations fall into this category. A few examples below, followed by links to the full set.

Inktober 2017 - fude de mannen

Inktober 2018 - brush pen

"Wet" - Basically I blob water around. Depending on when I do it (before, with/during, after the application of the ink), you can get different results. The water causes the ink to bleed, semi-watercolour-like, and can be used for shading, environmental effects etc. For obvious reasons, this works best with non-waterproof inks (which the vast majority of fountain pen inks are), but you can do this even with waterproof inks. Just let the ink hit water before it has a chance to soak into the paper and you can get cool effects :D. And you can also do it with other pens too, not just fountain pen inks. Examples:

Tiles of Toronto urban sketch series

Raizen and Hokushin doodles

Arikoto from Ooku

As you might imagine, this is really great for on-the-go drawings, because you just need a pen (or a couple of pens) and a waterbrush.

The “wet” approach is also where the very complex inks that look "boring" (greys, taupes etc.) are just complete magic. When the dye elements separate, other colours emerge, and you get really wonderful textural effects and rings of colour where the ink pools and dries. Diamine Earl Grey is a colour I've mentioned several times that I LOOOVE because it separates into blues, browns, purples, even pinkish tones. It's a gorgeous ink. You can see some examples and closeups here.

Another colour that does this really powerfully is Sailor Rikyucha. It’s a dark tea brown-green that separates very easily into pale blue-greens and more and has amazing tonal and textural qualities. The Tendril Wreath illustration here really shows this.

For the most part I look at things I like and then experiment to figure out what happens. After working with the same tools for a while, you get a sense of how the different elements might react and respond naturally.  The Genjimonogatari series employs both dry and wet extensively and is an example of the experimenting and playing I’m doing - I keep finding new aspects to the inks I thought I knew, and making “interesting” mistakes. And trying to fix them as I go with varying levels of success, haha. But I’m always learning!

One more thing about this hobby

I feel compelled to finish with some talk about the pure aesthetic appeal, or the MULTIPLE LEVELS OF FUN I get out of these inks. Not just the colour, not just how the ink behaves, but... the name of the ink as well! Some inks do this more effectively than others. Similar to how the presentation of a dish is part of the experience, the name of an ink adds so much to my enjoyment of it. My least favourite ink names are [standard adjective]+[standard colour name]. My favourite ones are really convoluted with literary and poetic references, I just love them hahaha. Asian fountain pen inks I find tend to do this especially well - partly because of how much you can pack into how few syllables, I suppose. It makes me sad that a lot of sites don’t include the original names, often referencing them with just a number, though I understand it is difficult to translate. But I learn a lot with these names as a starting point! For example, Zhenjing, which I mentioned recently in the Kurama “Light” illustration, took a bit of back and forth with my parents to look up the source and then to interpret the complex line of poetry. It was a fun and fascinating exercise. 

A great name can’t save an ink I don’t like, but a good name elevates an ink I do like even more, and it can be really inspiring for making stuff. For example, take Pen BBS Mirrorflower Watermoon. I adore the colour of this ink - it's a very subtle grey-pale green with silver flakes. I used it heavily in the Hokushin fanart “Northern Deity” (you can see it here with photos of the sparkly).

The name is actually highly recognizable if you're familiar with classic East Asian literature/poetry. I read it out loud to my parents with no context other than "this is the name of one of my favourite ink colours" while they were eating dinner and they both said at the same time, "I know this! DREAM OF THE RED CHAMBER!" lmao. It's a very Buddhist idiom or phrase referring to the illusory nature of things, likening it to the reflection of a flower in a mirror or the reflection of the moon in water.

I hope this was interesting and helpful! ^^

[adaysnotes]

02152020

I think I have achieved the workstation setup that really caters to my specific ‘workflow’.

I did have previous decent setups but I think what makes my current one stand out is that I went past not just considering how an actual peripheral will be used but instead to consider it part of my entire workflow. Like the keyboard, for example. Plenty of times before, I would pick a keyboard solely because I thought it would really feel good when I played my online games, and also when typing blog entries, etc. I never gave much thought about how it would fit the rest of the other accessories -- say, the mouse.

This time around, I tried to come up with a setup that would work well as a unit, and, at the same time, has parts that are in itself high-performing. Working from home has presented this need since I try not to mix work with pleasure. That just basically means I don’t use the work laptop for browsing personal stuff, and my personal desktop for work and development tasks as well. (I wasn’t always like this, of course. Back in the office, there was no choice but to use your office laptop for browsing. Haha!)

I was also kind of getting tired with the gaming look of the setup that I had for quite sometime. I thought I’d go for a look more aimed at productivity -- a little more professional, if I may say so. Add that to the fact that I try to always think of ways in which I could save time and space in my daily life.  Among the things that had been at the back of my mind bugging me were my current desk devices and layout. The things that I had on my desk -- the gaming mouse and keyboard -- just took up too much space.

So my step 1 was to get rid of the gaming peripherals. I sold my Logitech G512 keyboard, the Razer Ergonomic Wrist Rest, and the Razer Mamba mouse. My colleague got the mechanical keyboard and wrist rest at a bargain, and a buyer from Carousell bought the mouse for a steal price also.

I went back to the Magic Keyboard that came with the iMac... but I could not make myself go back to the Magic Mouse simply because I just hated that thing. I never got the idea behind that device. It’s not ergonomic, which was toally un-Apple-like. 

When I had my MacBook (before I had this desktop), I was curious what the fuzz was about this Magic Mouse so I decided to try and buy one. I thought it might make using Photoshop or Lightroom easier, etc. I was so wrong. In no fucking way did it make any of my computer use more convenient. I sold it two days later. Hahahaha! The only reason why I still have a Magic Mouse now is that it came with the iMac. I didn’t want to add for a Magic Trackpad back then since I didn’t think I wanted it -- and I still had my Razer Mamba mouse then.

This time I decided to go with the Magic Trackpad 2. I’ve seen Vuhlandes’ workstation on his vlogs and he has that same trackpad. Plus, I’ve always placed a premium on devices that offer both the options of using it wired and wireless.

When I started editing photos with the Magic Trackpad, however, the use of brushes was a pain point I encountered. Using the trackpad in performing any click-and-drag task proved to be very unintuitive and, frankly, just difficult. Any click-drag activity would require you to exert more effort, not to mention that it grants you less control than if you were using a mouse. So I looked around the internet on what tools other photographers use.

The main solution that I came up with was to use a graphic tablet. To that end, one of my brothers lent me his Wacom Bamboo Pen & Touch when I told them about the possibility of getting myself a Wacom. I tried using it immediately once he let me borrow it, and I was totally blown away. It presented too great of an ease in my photo-editing workflow, instantly turning it into a quick hassle-free moment. For the short period that I used it in Capture One, the focus was on the things I wanted to do to get the output that I wanted and less on the ‘how’ would I do those same things. The next day, when I told my brother I was sold on the idea getting myself a graphics tablet, he told me that I can have his Wacom Bamboo. Wow!

While the graphic tablet covered the difficulty encountered with photo-editing softwares’ brushes and sliders, it occupied considerable table real estate next to a keyboard. A full-time mouse is also not its primary use case (I’m guessing, of course) so for me -- a stickler to a-place-for-everything-and-every-thing-in-its-place mantra, it was not an ideal solution for casual use. There were still normal, everyday click-and-drag scenarios (e.g. moving folder items to a different window on a big display, etc.) that doesn’t exactly present the need to bring out a pen & touch tablet full-time. Those would still require a mouse.

My search for a mouse was for a couple of reasons, with one being the reason I explained above. One of the other reasons was that I wanted a heftier and a more reliable mouse to use with my day job: software development work. 

The Logitech M720, the mouse that I had been using for my office-issued laptop, was becoming a little light for my taste. At the same time it was also unraveling now that I do mostly hardcore development work solely on a laptop display,  without an extended monitor. It’s selection and click-drag accuracy (or lack of it) has become more pronounced with the smaller screen space. Using it in the office before where there was a monitor offset this nuisance by forcing me to just aim more precisely and click more deliberately at the target. Here, right now, there is just no way to mitigate that. It was the M720′s time to go. My Wacom-tablet donor of a brother happened to also want a mouse for his MacBook Pro so I just handed him this one.

The Logitech MX Master 3 was just the perfect choice for my mouse. It still has the multi-device capability that the M720 had -- which I had never used (I just knew it had that because of the additional buttons) --- but it was also bigger and heavier. It was also more reliable -- a conclusion I gathered from watching some couple dozen of YouTube videos and fiddling through Google’s search results of “best mouse for Mac”. So I did my usual online window-shopping for a week or so. Units of the mouse weren’t really easy to come by locally and prices were also really all over the place so I decided to go for the ones in the middle price range, eventually settling on a Facebook page that sells electronic components for robotics, and stuff. They happened to have an MX Master 3 in their inventory posted, which I found quite weird since they were selling mostly electrical circuit boards for Raspberry Pi and whatnot. I messaged them one evening and told them that I’ll order the next day and have it picked up once they confirm the order and payment. 

When I finally got to use my own Logitech MX Master 3, it did not disappoint. It wasn’t over the top. I mean, you could consider the modern look to be (it really isn’t). But the performance? It didn’t hit you with a wow. It just flat out, simply delivered. It did what I wanted it to do. The setup was easy, the moving between my work laptop and my personal desktop was seamless. These days, I’m even playing Starcraft: Remastered with it. It was like a perfect marriage of all the features that I wanted in a mouse: the wired/wireless option, the multi-device support, modern design, right amount of heft, the softness of the click, the sleek charging cable, etc. It was just the right work mouse.

Now, let’s go to the keyboard.

Apple’s Magic Keyboard is no doubt an impressive piece of equipment and is very fun to use. However, using it for a long period of time will really suck since there is nothing really ergonomic about it. It’s too low and flat (both its frame and keys) that when you’re trying to type fast you would find that you are actually banging on the keys. That’s not good. I am also a deep lover of the number pad. This is also one of the reasons why I’ve always felt the need to get an external keyboard when using a laptop: I feel that a work setup is incomplete without a numpad. What I wanted now was a keyboard with a numpad that still has the compactness somehow of Apple’s keyboard. But as I was looking around what to get, I would still try and look for models that have my nice-to-have features: wired/wireless options and mechanical.

This is where I first began taking a serious look at the Keychron brand. Their Keychron K4 V2 wireless mechanical keyboard checks all those boxes that I’ve laid out. It’s a 100-key mechanical keyboard that can be used wired or wireless, and is compact. It also has the multi-device feature, which completely had me sold on it since I was just getting the hang of this particular feature on the MX Master 3 mouse. Just thinking of a one-keyboard-one-mouse setup for both my office laptop and iMac, I was already giddy with the space I’ve saved on my desk. And so in a way, when I had read up on all of the K4 V2′s features while waiting for my turn with the dentist, it was a no-brainer. When I got home that night, I ordered the keyboard online along with the Keychron wooden palm rest.

One thing that I also loved about the Keychron K4 was that its visual elements are very minimal. It doesn’t have a huge frame, and the design is pretty straightforward. It’s minimal and it’s also nostalgic. Its boxy keys takes me back to the times when I was playing alone as a make-believe hacker with the mechanical keyboard (all keyboards were mechanical back in the day) from our old computer. The K4 also has RGB lighting but it does grant you options to change the colors and lighting effects, or even turn it off completely (which I did with mine).

So now, I have a multi-device combo of an awesome mouse and an equally awesome compact keyboard for use for work and for pleasure, a trackpad for smooth scrolling and also serves as a backup cursor, and a graphic pen & tablet which I pull out from the side for a more precise and efficient creative workflow. I know, I know -- it’s really very specific to me. But so far, it works.

This entry took quite a while to finish. I started this one on the 15th, and it’s now sometime past midnight of the 20th. 

[qarajhcreations]

A Tal’Dorei Misadventure, part 3: Ship Wrecker

This story is told from a first-person perspective, of the character Tenarhik-ga-Rovhtark, better known as Tena Barkfang. As such, things that happens might not be described, as Tena didn’t experience all of them.

After resting near the beach, but still in a relatively safe distance from the cave and the ship, I was the first to wake up the next day. We had not talked about someone standing guard during the night, but luckily the night had passed by without anything happening, at least, so it seemed.

I had taken quite a beating, first by the corpses in the cave and later, by the boar that I killed last evening. And I had not taken my armor off before the night and as result, my body was so sore, that stretching out after a good night’s sleep, was an activity that ached badly. I looked over my traveling companions, sleeping soundly, peacefully. I took an extra look at the pretty lady, her cheeks so smooth, enticing almost, I wanted to touch them, but that would probably end up being weird. And it would certainly wake her up, which wouldn’t exactly be a nice thing to do.

I scouted the area, but it seemed like all was quiet. With a sigh of relief, I sat down on my bedroll, and began to open my armor. Oh man, my skin needed a breather, after the beatings and all, I ran my fingers over some of the bruises, and a jolt of pain shot through my chest. Ow, okay, don’t do that again. I looked at my armor, but apart from a few bent and battered scales, my armor had held firm. It was first now, with my armor in my hand, that it struck me how happy I was, that my friends were asleep, I mean, I was in undergarments, but still, I hadn’t even known them for more than a week.

It had been a little less than an hour, of me trying to work out the kinks on the scales, which is not easy without any tools. It also doesn’t make it easier, when you don’t want to wake people up. To be frank, armor-making and black-smithing wasn’t at all for me; who want to stand near a hot furnace, beating on iron all day, getting soot on all parts of your body, in your hair, in your face. My scale armor, and my axes, had been sitting on a big lump of a human male warrior. He was lying face-first down in the swamp, just off of the road going into Stillben. I couldn’t make out any wounds on him, but he was dead alright, eyes all rolled up in his head and all. At first, I tried pulling the armor over his head, which I quickly found was difficult. I then noticed the leather straps, looking like four belts, sitting on the back of the armor. That made things a whole lot easier. It also made the rather large armor fit me better, as I could tighten the straps holding it over my stomach. The axes were nice too, I almost expected them to be heavier. It took a while to get used to the weight of the armor, I had been living in rough, regular clothes. Maybe it as time to leave the swamp and go out and do good, father did bad, and I don’t want to end up like him.

As I heard one of my new-found travel-mates waking up, I hastily donned my armor again. The pretty lady seemed quick to awaken, and without a word, she sauntered off towards the edge of the forest. I’m assuming she had to relieve herself, that’s usually a first-thing-in-the-morning for me too. She soon after came back, looking pleased, no wonder. With my short friend all up and awake as well, we quickly took down our primitive camp, and headed back onto the beach.

With the cave looming ahead once more, we made sure to try and be quiet. I do not know if corpses and skeletons can actually HEAR anything, but, why risk it, right? I readied an arrow, but was surprised to see neither the pretty lady bring her long stick out and my short friend seemed content to not have his axe in hand either. I don’t know what they were thinking, I mean, I’m a pretty decent shot, but would they go in, practically unarmed, that’s like... halfway to naked. Perhaps their theory was “if we do not pose a threat, the undead won’t see us as one”. I don’t know about that, the undead that I have met in the swamp, didn’t seem to care much about if you were a librarian or a knight, but these could be different undead.

In the back of the cave, by the big chest, four skeletons stood, like statues, they didn’t move a muscle... No wonder, now that I think about it. But yea, they were standing completely still. Each by it’s corner of the chest, most certainly, guarding the chest. We also saw the sorry remains of the corpses, but there was no sign that they would stand anytime soon. No skeletons guarding the two smaller chests on the right though. When dad was home, he talked about arguing with some of the other highwaymen, about spoils and who should get what. My short friend was the one that suggested going back for the treasure, and seemed very eager to get his hands on whatever was in the chests. So he and the lady went off, I told them that I’d have their backs, in case the skeletons started moving. I was a bit concerned with my own position, three corpses laying relatively close to me, if they started to rise, I’d have serious problems.

They didn’t move. The corpses, neither the skeletons nor the more fresh ones near me. My two friends soon after returned with pleased looks on their faces. They must have found something nice, but I’ll refrain from asking about it. I know of greed from both my father, and later, my mother and brothers as well. Sure, it was nice to have money to your name, for buying food and a warm bed in an inn, but I had seen what money, what greed, can do to people. And I did not like it. At some point, it might be worth having a conversation with them both about this issue, but I’m not sure how I’ll be able to phrase it in a way that they will understand.

Out of the cave once more, our attention was turned towards the wrecked ship. From this distance it seemed only slightly larger than the fishing boats, I had seen in Stillben’s harbor, but once we got close, we could finally grasp the sheer size of it. What looked like a reinforced iron-band pattern, turned out to be hatches for large crossbows, each standing on a small set of wheels and seemed way too heavy to lift. That seems impractical to me, but I have never set foot aboard a ship, so, how would I know? We found two ways to get into the ship; a rope-ladder hanging from the railing and a small opening near the sand, that I assumed was made when the ship wrecked. The rope-ladder was all the way down, so my short friend would have no issues reaching it. The hole was a different story, almost all covered by sand.

I began digging, the others didn’t find it in them to help, I do have the biggest hand and longest arms, so I reckon their thought was that I’d be most efficient. It doesn’t bother me to do labor like that, I’m no dainty flower. Plus, if it’s doing good and helping people, it’s all that I need. As soon as the hole was big enough, my short friend darted inside the boat. I hope he’s careful, the pretty lady too, I’d hate for them to get hurt, when I can protect them. Finally the hole was big enough for me to get into.

The inside of the ship felt cramped, despite the size. My short friend was already going to town on some innocent barrels, I was going to tell him that people don’t usually store valuables in barrels. But one, it probably wouldn’t help and two, maybe that’s something you do on a ship. Most of the barrels had remains of food, but on barrel had a strong sweet smell to it, compared to the rot of the food. A smile, of width I had not yet seen, beamed on his face. He tipped the barrel, carefully, and began to roll it out of the hole. However, it got stuck in the sand. I tried to help, but ducking my head under the rafters, between the barrels and odd crossbows, it was hard to use my strength properly.

With our exit now blocked, we began heading up through the decks. If life at sea meant moving through such a cramped space every day, I think I’d prefer the shallows of a swamp. Sure, there’s leeches, bugs, pot-holes, and a lot of other nasty stuff, but at least you don’t have neck-cramps all the time. Finally we got up to the top, I had to do a bit of back-stretching. The top deck was clear, no corpses, no barrels, no treasure, which I find to be strange, but hey, if our mission was clearing out the cave and the ship, making the beach safe, finding nothing would mean that we had done a good job. At least in my mind.

While I headed for the rope-ladder’s top, preparing to get off the ship, my short friend went straight for a weird gate into a room below the steering wheel. The pretty lady seemed to be heading in that direction as well. They’ll be fine. As soon as I had thought that, a sound like thunder roared through the screams of the seagulls. I looked at the sky first, but it was all clear. Then I looked to the gate, my short friend had just opened up. A strange contraption of metal had a smoking ring, like it was on fire. I also saw my short friend having a different haircut, as if someone had dragged a strange knife atop his head, I glanced around, if something had been fired, it might be worth checking out. i couldn’t see an arrow, bolt or knife anywhere on the deck, but finally I saw it, smoking, red hot and stuck in the strange tree in the middle of the deck.

As my friends headed into the room, looking for more treasure, no doubt, I squatted down in front of where the thing had lodged itself into the wood. My fingers started moving towards it, it looked metallic, I could feel the heat as I pulled of my gauntlets; where I to dig it out, I’d need my fingers nimble. If I had a bucket, I could get down on the beach, get some water, and cool it off. Or I could wait for the thing to cool off on it’s own. Kind of lucky that it didn’t ignite all the wood around here. Then it struck me; I have a water-skin with me. Slowly and carefully I poured some water on the metallic object, making it hiss and sizzle. As it stopped smoking, I tried wrapping my fingers around it, but even without the gauntlets on, I could not get a grip on it. It’s surface was smooth and shiny.

Grabbing an arrow, I began to chip away at the wood holding the item, slowly digging the arrowhead in, pulling pieces of wood out. This was going to take a while, but if my friends started looting, it was probably safe to say; I wasn’t exactly pressed for time. I could hear them talk, calmly, well at least they weren’t arguing about loot, but I could not hear the subject of their conversation. I think I felt the metallic object shift, I pushed the arrow in and began prying it out. Man, it was lodged in there, must have been shot with a hefty amount of force.

Finally it became loose. I held my other hand under it, as it popped out. A sphere, seemingly made out iron. As it came out in the sunlight, it really shone. Mesmerized, I must have been looking at it for a while, as my friends finished looting the room, I didn’t even care what they had found, I had a treasure of my own. I was about to head over towards the rope-ladder, when a strange shadowy-creature appeared on the stairs from the lower decks, I called out to it, I wouldn’t want to shoot someone innocent, it seemed to be approaching me, I couldn’t see it wielding weapons, but something felt wrong about it.

It took a swipe at me, though I managed to step out of the way. My short friend was already en route, swinging his battle-axe wildly, slashing away at the shadowy figure. He hit, but it was as if he was cutting into thin air. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw another shadow appear from behind the pretty lady. I didn’t have time to warn her, not that I needed it, she suddenly made a really bright column of light appear, vaporizing the shadow entirely. That must have been magic. Okay, so I’ll have to keep an eye out for the pretty lady and her tricks in the future. The first shadow had turned it’s gaze and limbs towards my short friend. As it struck, he appeared to become weaker, as if it had hit his muscles straight on, a scary sight actually. I fired an arrow, to protect him, but the close range, and with the shadow’s attack scaring me, the arrow just whizzed off of the deck. Despite the clear weakened state, my short friend swung his axe again, and as it cut through, the shadow vanished.

Without breaking much of a sweat, we left the boat, and began to carry, roll and drag my short friend’s barrel of alkohol, he was determined to bring it back to the city, to sell it, I think. With the barrel moved between me and my short friend’s strength, our overall speed was significantly slower. However, despite that, our spirits were high, and we decided to not camp outright for the night, due to the idea that none of us had trouble seeing in the dark.

It took almost double the time it had taken us to get to the beach, to get back to the city, but as we finally did, we all headed straight for the tavern. I still had sand on my hands from the digging earlier, so after placing down my short friend’s barrel at the bar, I headed out to wash up. After that it was straight up to my room, finally being able to take my armor off, letting my skin breathe. Despite the almost too small tub, the hot water was so relaxing and pleasant, I could almost have slept there. My muscles were tensing up, I would sleep soundly tonight. Placing my clothes in a neat pile next to my armor and gear, I were finally able to unwind. I slept only moments after I had placed myself in bed.

The next morning, we all gathered at the bar. We were to hand in the mission, so we all trudged towards the barracks near the large tree. As it was the pretty lady who had obtained the mission, she would be the one to confer with the guards about what had happened. I had bumped pretty hard into the door-frame on the way in, and was now rubbing my hurting forehead, so I didn’t really pay attention to what the lady said. On the way out, one of the imprisoned pirates reached out between the bars, grabbing onto my belt. I’m assuming he was trying to grab my rear, I hear prison can do strange thing to people, make them need certain... things... more than others. He muttered some words to me, before he passed out in his cell again. Life at sea, huh? Not for me it seems.

In the hurry to get the mission turned in, we had forgotten something very important; breakfast. Naturally, we followed a sweet, delicious scent to a bakery. I went straight to the counter, perhaps a bit too fast, as it seemed I scared the boy overseeing the store... I didn’t mean to, I was just hungry. It’s not like I was going to eat him or anything. Raw meat isn’t good for you, honestly. We got our cakes, payed for by my short friend entirely. With our immediate hunger settled, we headed back towards the shop, my short friend had apparently found something he wanted to learn more about.

Inside the shop, I started to look around for weapons, my axes were okay, but maybe it was time to update. I felt comfortable that I would be able to use pretty much any odd thing, mauls, swords, hammers, axes. The shop seemed more “general store and item” shop, than selling and buying weapons. As the pretty lady went up to the clerk, a strange sound could be heard behind him, almost like a fart, but prolonged and less... Flatulent, somehow. A mere moment later, a very handsome elderly man came out to the counter. There was something to him, I can’t really explain it, it was as if someone as tickling the inside of my stomach. I probably interrupted the pretty lady in her shopping, but she would probably take a long time finding special stuff for her tricks and what not. I, on the other hand, was pretty certain what I wanted and what I needed, plus, my funds were limited, going by the amount of coins that I had, though it was more than I’d ever had owned before. The two of them had given me a total of... twen-ty-five, was it? Of the shiny, yellow coins. The pretty lady said that it was five, then five, then five, then five and five more.

I told the man, Gil-something, that I needed something that could pack more of a punch against undead, I was really hoping for some weapons to be stored in the back, and he’d bring them to me to browse. Instead he found three vials of some kind, and explained that if I were to add it to my weapon, arrows or my axes, it would do special damage to undead creatures. I was only able to afford a single of the vials. But I couldn’t bring myself to sound disappointed within ear-shot of the nice man, even if I was. The problem was; I doubt, after looking at my remaining coins, that I could find a blacksmith, willing to part with a pair of weapons, or even one, for what I have left. I didn’t really focus on what my friends bought, I should ask them later, out of curiosity.

With the mission past us, and shopping done, we headed back to the square with the tree. We must have attracted some attention as we walked, I didn’t see many short ones like my friend, and I saw none quite as pretty as the lady. We found like an elevated wall, people had been putting paper on it. We found a missive that someone needed help with some cow-watching down south, there were other options, but they didn’t entice us. As we took off, I looked over my shoulder, back at the city between the trees. I felt like a better person, like I had done something important, something good. It was great feeling, as if something inside of me had grown bigger, stronger.

[journeysintowebcomics]

Girl Genius Liveblog #152

UPDATE 152: Tarvek Needs Relationship Advice

Last time Gil had been sent headfirst into danger because the Castle is being attacked! And the enemies may be right outside. To ensure he won’t die three seconds after stepping out of Castle Heterodyne, Otilia was assigned to protect him with all the devil dogs. Tarvek and Agatha will stay behind, finishing the repair job. And it only took like four volumes! So let’s continue.

Before I start reading, I notice there’s a new banner up here. Take a look at this!

It seems there’s a Kickstarter campaign for Girl Genius – or more like a store of some sort, now that I’m checking that link. It’s all about the newest volume, Volume 16. It feels a bit strange to know I’m kind of close, there are like...five volumes left before I reach it.

Tarvek really is trying to make it look like he isn’t bothered by Gil putting himself in danger – those two may hate each other, but at least it’s obvious they don’t want the other to die. How can you make the other grovel if they’re dead? Hah! Okay, no, I’m pretty sure it’s also because they used to be friends. That friendship may be gone, but yeah, they’re still...kind of fond of each other? Maybe?

Well, I’m pretty sure part of him is also bothered by the kiss between Agatha and Gil, even if he allowed it to happen. He loves Agatha, that must have stung. Agatha, being the person she is, stops Tarvek and tells him in her usual straightforward manner that it’s useless to worry, and that they did all they could do for Gil. Tarvek almost confesses what I’m pretty sure is obvious for everyone in the world including these two – that he’s in love with her – so he hurries to go find the tools to continue the repair job. Smooth, Tarvek, you clearly are much better at scheming and fighting for your Storm King throne than you are talking to Agatha.

Violetta swoops in, not to taunt Tarvek and tell him he’s an idiot, but to indirectly tell him he’s an idiot because he doesn’t realize he has the best chances to be the one to keep Agatha, instead of Gil.

I have absolutely no idea what she’s talking about. Also...again? Violetta, you spent a lot of time licking your poisoned knives? Well...!

Apparently the gist of the newest Let’s Get Tarvek a Girlfriend strategy revolves around the fact Gil is the ruler of the empire and Agatha is the ruler of the historically troublesome Heterodyne family. Both are immensely powerful, but it’s not like Gil can let Agatha do whatever she wants, so either he marries her, or he subjugates her. What’s more, if he does marry Agatha then he’d be walking on eggshells all the time. Agatha’s not going to let him walk all over here, too. All in all, it’d be a delicate situation.

I’m not entirely sure if Violetta is correct. I mean, Agatha is brilliant, and she’s more than willing to defend Mechanisburg and her family’s legacy, but I don’t think she’s going to be causing trouble. The most I see her doing is defending herself against attackers and retaliating in turn, as well as take actions to fulfill Mechanisburg’s needs. She’s not the type to invade anyone needlessly. I can’t say it with certainty, but maybe Gil would let Agatha run loose.

It’d still be possible for him to marry her, but that’d make everything complicated, so...huh. Maybe Violetta is right after all and Tarvek currently has better chances with Agatha.

Too bad all that reasoning depends on Gil ruling the empire, and I simply refuse to believe Wulfenbach would die unceremoniously offscreen and under the rubble of a hospital.

Tarvek’s actually wary to hear Violetta is supporting Tarvek in the bet. The reason why she’s siding with him is because she owes him, it seems.

Hm. Alright, then! So Tarvek sent Violetta aaaaall the way to Mechanisburg to keep her safe from everything that tries to kill Tarvek. Undoubtedly, many of these attacks come from his family. All those Smoke Knights died, but since Violetta wasn’t one of them, she’s safe. I bet she doesn’t understand why he’d do that, since she hated him since some time ago.

So he did that out of the goodness of his own heart, then. Alright, rather nice of him! And yes, there’s absolutely no doubt that if Agatha was in danger and Tarvek had to shatter walls with his bare fists to save her, he absolutely would hit that wall until his fists are all broken...and then he’d start headbutting the wall. Yes, this is kind of a roundabout way to say how devoted Tarvek is to Agatha, but it’s not like it’s an exaggeration, is it.

Violetta, I don’t think Tarvek’s in mood to hear how blissfully happy Agatha would be with Gil.

Her point is that since Tarvek’s going to have to work from zero instead of having a whole empire handed to him like Gil will have, he’d be able to work alongside Agatha and together built something great. Hm. Yeah, Violetta’s right about that. That’d be more fulfilling to Agatha, wouldn’t it? And she’d get to keep her power and influence, since I don’t think Tarvek would try to subjugate the Heterodynes under his iron fist, they’d be at equal power. And hey, she’d get to be an evil queen, would she love to be an evil queen? If she’s more like the old Heterodynes than like her father and Barry, then yes!

But, you know, I have noticed the big enigma here is what Agatha will want. Guessing is easy, but Agatha surely will have her own plans and wishes, and she’s influential and straightforward enough to want to achieve them. I’m not saying she’ll base her marriage exclusively on that, buuuuut that’s something to consider.

Now that Violetta is done with her way to cheer him up, she leaves to protect Agatha, while Tarvek does what he does best: scheme. There’s a lot of alliances to make, and they’ll be useful for Agatha even if she doesn’t marry him, so it’s all worth it. There’s nothing wrong with planning ahead, Tarvek, don’t punch yourself in your self-esteem like that.

...

...hm. Get rid of the bat wing crown. That’s a bit of an eyesore. Other than that, she actually looks rather good in that image!

The cheerful planning is rudely interrupted. You’re getting too happy, Tarvek, time for the universe to smack you down again.

I didn’t mean that literally. But yeah, here are Othar and Sanaa. I had completely forgotten about them. In their mission to capture Gil, she thought Tarvek was Gil and therefore captured him through the tried and true method of shoving him into a potato sack, apparently. Agatha’s not going to be happy when she hears about this. Are they currently in an area where the Castle can see what’s going on? I’m not sure if the Castle would alert Agatha about this or not.

I love how they keep saying ‘rescued’ while Tarvek thrashes in that sack. A+ rescue job, guys.

Now that Gil has been supposedly captured, all Othar has to do now is leave the Castle and pass through the battlefield that may or may not be right outside. Should be like a walk in the park for Othar Tryggvassen, he has gone through worse.

Meanwhile, in a tall tower:

And now that I paid lip service to this page, I’ll end the update, because I have absolutely no care about this particular quaternary plotline. The rest of the update today was interesting to me, though! Made me think about what could come in the future once the trouble with the Other in Girl Genius is over and everyone can live successful and sparky lives! Hopefully.

Thank you for reading!

Next update: next time

[abrilstevens]

alright anon, here it is! i’m going to take you through the process of making an icon pack like the one below. i’ll try to go into detail as much as i can without making this post a million miles long, but feel free to shoot me an ask if you have any questions.

TUTORIAL UNDER THE CUT

ok so first things first: use a high quality video to get your icon screencaps because that will make your life a lot easier. even though icons are tiny, it’s still hard to make low quality screencaps look good, especially when you have to mess around with the dimensions. the original screencap below is 1280x720px.

thankfully getting rid of the background on these kind of caps is actually pretty easy and can be done using the magnetic lasso tool because evie stands out from the background (yay! i’m lazy). the magnetic lasso wouldn’t work as well if, say, the walls were a similar color to evie’s hair or something.

so you just click all around her until you have all the parts you want, like i did below. it doesn’t have to be perfect because i’m going to use the select and mask tool next.

the right side of the image above is what the select and mask screen looks like. the settings you’ll want to use depend on the picture and how accurate you were with the lasso tool. usually i like to smooth the selection quite a bit, use a tiny bit of feathering, and shift the edge of the selection if i was sloppy with the magnetic lasso tool (shifting the edge in the positive direction will add more of the background back so you can erase it manually). if the result looks too soft around the edges for your taste, you can just go back to the select and mask screen and add more contrast. just go with what looks good to you!

click the layer mask button (circled above) and the background will disappear. using layer masks is the best way to do this imo because if you messed up while selecting, you can just use the paint brush tool on the mask. using white will show more of the background, using black will erase more of it (also you can press the x button to switch between black and white, which made masking way less annoying for me).

anyway, cool, onto actually making the icon. just create a new document in whatever color. i like to work with 200x200 canvases, but some people prefer to use 100x100 because that’s what tumblr will shrink it to on your dash.

for the background, i like to use gradients because i think they look nice, but solid colors are fine, too. gradients are super easy. just select the gradient tool (bottom left), then click on the gradient i circled below (top left), then set the colors you want the ends of the gradient to be using the two buttons circled on the right.

once you have your colors set, just drag your cursor from the top to the bottom of the canvas, or from corner to corner, whatever floats your boat. mine looked like the left pic at first. i like more contrast, so i just duplicated that layer and set the top one to overlay. the right is the result.

now i just drag my evie layer on top of my new canvas and adjust the size to fit my icon, then fix the edges if need be. i put my editing process below and my layers once i finished. sorry if the image is blurry, tumblr hates me, just click on it for full size.

obviously i made a ton of colors for each icon and if you’re planning on doing that, i recommend just making your different color gradients and saving them together as a psd like the one i have below. you can just drag whatever onto that psd and edit it however you like, then just change the background color by making that layer visible. not having to switch between documents saves a lot of time, imo.

ok, that’s it! hopefully that was helpful! again, let me know if you have any questions/need something explained.