#I'd love to write more :)

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

HOT, SINGLE, UNSTUDIED SPONGES. 3000 NAUTICAL MILES AWAY. Come sail the distance and read Tiger Tiger!

[composeregg]

edit (10/23/2024) now that the poll is over: Original version, with 10 questions, from April 2023 here

And, given that the original is from April 2023, that means I can very easily say:

No, this was not an ISAT reference!

Just because I use parentheses and 2nd person pov and love the same concepts of what a time loop can do to a person doesn't mean it's ISAT

(Yes, I like ISAT, the original poll is why I was recommended the game! But if you look at the original, you can see all the origins of the options to choose from, including what spurred me on with the moss option from the replies)

If I were going to make something for ISAT, I would never be so vague, you can simply look at my ao3 for proof of that

[erinwantstowrite]

Dick and Tim would be REALLY good on reality tv,,, they're both charismatic (please do not forget that Tim makes friends/allies easily just like Dick can), handsome, CLEVER, and know how to play to a persona. i think they'd go on shows for fun and to de-stress. like one too many things piss them off in their daily lives and they could pretty much get a vacation from it just to go on these shows. no one in the family can talk to them and they get to annoy people, crack jokes, and get fun puzzles in the form of a literal puzzle or figuring out social dynamics of the other players.

sometimes they go on shows by themselves but mostly use it as a brotherly bonding activity. if it's a show where they can be a duo they're GOING to do it. and they're going in to play to a storyline, not to win. they don't need the money, they don't need the publicity, they just want to have fun. sometimes if they figure out that everyone on the show sucks and they get competitive, they'll win. but mostly their goal is "how can we make the funniest plot line look the most natural." or something like that. i know a producer LOVES to see them coming. i bet EVERYONE tunes in when they're on a show because they're fucking hilarious even if half of what they say are inside jokes. the rest of the family watches and they KNOW what those shits are pulling, they have betting pools where they guess what the two are gonna do next, they're the FIRST to make memes for both internet and for the family group chats.

one time they convinced Bruce to go (it's been many a years since he really had to play up the Brucie role, cause he's a dad now and the older he gets the more people expect him to mellow out, and even back when he was full Brucie, reality TV wasn't his thing). it was one of those survival based shows where you come is as a team and try to win together. Bruce got lost in the woods after going on a hike. The camera men literally lost him and Tim and Dick were playing it up for the camera. Dick cried and invited the other teams to a funeral. Tim had a speech that was basically "I think he's fine but this is my perfect opportunity to embarrass my dad with stories." The producers were like "we fucking killed Bruce Wayne oh my fucking god" and Bruce shows up at the funeral like "oh what a beautiful service my boys are so great." They won by pure luck and circumstances and they were actively TRYING to lose that game. They were gobsmacked at the end and everyone uses the moment they looked at each other in confusion and shock as reaction gifs

[hellsquills]

Disclaimer: I know about the duffle bag Filbrick threw at him, but you can ignore that if you want

My thoughts below the cut! (this turned into a whole ass fic lmao)

My personal headcanon is that Filbrick is as much of a coward as he is of an asshole. Therefore, he wouldn't have kicked Stan when he did in canon. Probably not for a while after that.

However, he does try to send him to military school. He keeps talking about how this kid needs to learn discipline and respect, and if he's not gonna bring money to the house, then he should at least bring some honor to his family.

Stan obviously does NOT want to go. Not only because it's a pointless war ("what've the vietnamese done to us anyways?") but because he remembers his mother's face when Shermie got drafted and he will NOT make her go through that hell again. Also, he doesn't wanna die!!!! Hello?????

He talks it out over the phone with Ford, who's obviously just as against it as he is. He tells Stan that, if he gets into a PhD program, he could skip military. Stan laughs in his face. It'd be easier to jump off the plane without a parachute.

And so, he comes up with a plan. When he goes to take his physical, he tries his best to botch it. If he is bad enough, if it looks like he can't do it, maybe he won't have to. Unfortunately, the recruiters are far too used to this by now, and they don't buy it. Stan goes home with a recruitment letter hidden in his jacket.

Everything goes downhill after that. He runs away from home, changes his name several times, does some crime here and there... The military is after him, and it doesn't take rejection kindly.

Stan stays out of contact with his family for a few years. He can't risk getting them involved in this mess. They don't deserve it. So he just leaves, without saying a word, in the middle of the night. No phone calls, no notes, nothing. Not even he knows where he's going. But if it just looks like he abandoned them, maybe they'll hate him. That will make them sound more believable with the police. They aren't covering for him, because they genuinely have no idea where he is. It's the best way to keep them safe.

In that time, Ford doesn't stop looking for him. He finds him every once in a while, but only his phone number, and he knows that could give away his brother's location and get the family in trouble. So, against his deepest instincts, he doesn't call.

One, three, five, seven years pass. Stan has been around almost all the country, and is genuinely considering leaving it. Maybe going to Mexico, or Colombia. Those sound nice. Maybe they'll be nicer to him.

He's passing his time and thinking about this in a small town restaurant in wherever he's in (somewhere he's not banned from, yet), when a family enters. He doesn't make eye contact, but he can't help but stare at them: a man and a woman, probably in their 50s, with 7 kids; one must be older than him, the second one around his age, the third one a little younger, the fourth one a teenager, and the last three between 10 and 15, no more. Except for the last three, they're all taller than him, even the mother, and they have various degrees of blond hair. Their clothes (overalls and plastic boots) suggest they must work in one of the farms he's seen around the state. They don't wear any accessories, except for the glasses that the father and four of the kids have. They're talking loudly and laughing. They look exhausted from a morning of hard work. They seem happy. They... look nothing like his family, and yet, he can't help but think about it.

He can't help the sob that comes to his throat. It's loud and messy from trying to suppress it, which obviously makes it worse. He covers his mouth immediately, and at that point he notices the tears that have run down his cheeks. "Great", he thinks, "that will make it easier to hide, for sure".

He doesn't move. He wants to escape, but that will draw even more attention to him, and he hasn't even paid for the food yet (normally he'd leave without paying, but the old waitress was kind enough to give him some extra food when she saw how little he ordered). He settles for not moving, lowering his head and covering his face, hoping that no one heard (unlikely) or cared (very likely).

"Ya'lright, son?"

The voice startles him. I wasn't very deep, but it was close enough to send his body into immediate danger mode. He looks up at the man towering over him, who's standing in front of him at a prudential distance.

"Y-Yeah, yeah, no worries."

He hates how broken his voice sounds. He's spent more than enough time sweet-talking his way out of trouble, he should be better at this by now. The man looks about as convinced by it as he is himself.

" 'lright then. Can I help ya?"

Damn villagers and their welcoming demeanor. If he wasn't a wanted man, he would appreciate it. But right now, it couldn't be worse timing.

"Come get ya food, kids!" The waitress' yell yanks him out of his thoughts.

"No", he blurts out, and he turns to the man. Least he can do is show him some respect and look him in the eyes. "I'm fine, thank you."

The man smiles lightly and nods. "Okay. Welcome to the town."

Stan watches as the man goes back to his table. He wishes he had been more polite, the guy was just worrying about him, but he can't afford it. They already know his face, he can't risk anyone else recognizing him-

"Sweet Mother of God almighty."

Stan turns to his right. One of the kids, the one about his age, is looking at him like he just grew a second head. He's frozen in place, his eyes wide as plates behind thick glasses. He doesn't say a word, and it's getting increasingly unnerving. Was the bruising on his face still visible? Maybe it's more apparent in broad daylight than in the shitty light that last motel had in the bathroom.

"I'm sorry, I- Can I ask your name?"

The fuck?

"No", answers Stan. Considering how nice his dad was, this guy is pretty rude.

"Son, leave him alone." The mother seems to have manners too, good to know.

The guy does pretty much the opposite. He comes closer to him, until he's right in his path, blocking his exit. That can't be good. Stan feels trapped.

"Are you Stanley Pines?"

Well, that's about it.

Stan tries his best to stay still. This guy doesn't look like a cop, not even an undercover one. But he knows his real name, so maybe someone in his family or friends works in the police; or worse, in the military.

"Listen man, I don't know who you're talking about, but that isn't my name. See?" He reaches for his wallet. He pulls out an ID, with a very clear Jackson Cage on it. He makes a mental note to change it soon, just in case his hunch is right and this guy has connections. "Now, if you excuse me, I'd like to pay for my food and leave. Move."

Stan is already on his feet, but the guy hasn't moved. Stan looks him up and down, trying to appear threatening despite his face probably still being a little red from before. He also gauges how feasible it'd be to escape if things turned bad; the dude is taller than him, sure, but he's also as thin as a toothpick, and by the anxious look on his face, he doesn't seem eager for a fight. The real problem would be evading the restaurant's staff and the other costumers, which include eight carbon copies of the guy in front of him. Probably better to try to de-escalate the situation.

"I- I can't let you leave. Please. I know who you are."

This man is making it really difficult to believe he's not a cop.

"No, you don't. I'm new in town. Move."

"Listen, I-"

"Move out of my way."

"I know your brother."

The words are like a bullet between his eyebrows.

"You look just like him-"

Against his better judgement, he quickly grabs he guy and pins him to the wood in between the booth benches, arm to his throat. If he knows Ford, he knows too much. God he just wanted to have lunch.

The commotion is immediate. He doesn't break eye contact with the guy who's grabbing his arm, whose strength is frankly surprising. He can hear, however, the screams from the dad and the siblings, as well as a couple of gasps from the other costumers. This is not going to go well, but fuck that. He's escaped worse.

"Stop!", the guy shouts as he keeps Stan's forearm from blocking his airway. "Don't hurt him! Don't get closer!"

It takes Stan a second to process what he said. The first part, sure, who wouldn't shout 'stop' when you're being attacked? But the second half doesn't make sense. Is he protecting him? The attacker?

Whatever it is, it works. The family stops in their tracks, still very ready to attack if needed. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see the three younger kids moving closer to their mother. For a split second, he feels a pang of remorse for the scene he just caused.

"Hang up the phone, Clarisse, it's okay. Please."

Stan looks in the direction the guy was talking to. Right behind him, the waitress reluctantly puts the phone down.

He looks back at the guy. He looks a little shaken up, probably from the impact his back (and his head?) made with the wooden plank, but he doesn't look scared. He almost looks... sympathetic? Stan is confused as hell.

"I know who you are", the guy whispers, low enough for Stan to hear alone. "You're Stanley Pines, and you have a brother named Stanford. I know him, okay? He's my friend. I met him a few years ago in a quantum physics congress and we've been talking ever since. He told me about his family in New Jersey, and about you. About how he hasn't seen you in years, and how he was trying to find you, to no avail."

Stan is gradually loosening his grip on the guy's neck, who takes a deep breath. He should know better, but- shit, hearing that Ford was looking for him was not what he expected. Even if he doesn't know yet if this guy is lying out of his ass, it's enough to make him doubt.

"I know you were called to Vietnam. He told me. I spent a week with him in his place when he found out, he was unconsollable. When you ran away, he called me. He knew what it meant for you and he thought he'd never see you again, whether you got caught or not. All because of that stupid war." Stan is now trembling a little, he knows it. This guy must know it too, with how close they are. If he stays here any longer he'll break down, but he can't move. Anything to hear his brother's name a little longer. "I know what it's like. Three of my cousins were drafted last year, and I know at least one of them won't be coming back home. Please... let me help you."

Stan meets his eyes. They're green and brown-ish, not unlike the immense fields he's seen in his last journey, the one that led him to this town. With the years, he's learned not to trust beautiful eyes, because they are better at hiding. These ones, however, seem serene and honest, just like his words, and he can't help but believing them. This guy, whoever the fuck he is, knows just about enough.

Stan lowers his right arm. The guy still has his hand on it, but this time is much less defensive and much more comforting. He doesn't complain.

"My name's Fiddleford McGucket, and I'm gonna help you find your brother."

______________________________

Essentially, after this Fidds calls Ford as if nothing happened (per Stan's request, since he's still paranoid about the police tracking his calls) and asks him to come to Tennessee. Ford argues that he's very busy and all, but Fidds convinces him in the end.

Obviously the twins have a dual breakdown and cry their heart out. In this AU they're much less emotionally constipated lol

Ford tells Stan that he's gonna build a house in a small town in Oregon as a part of his research, and asks him to move in with him once it's finished. Stan, of course, accepts.

In the meantime, Stan stays in the McGucket farm and helps them out as a way of laying low. He has a great relationship with his family, and they're very proud of him for what he did (i believe that the McGuckets are hippies at heart, and they're VERY anti-war, especially when it already took three of them)

I don't know how much of the canon storyline would this AU follow, but it's pretty much your average Mystery Trio AU with some different backstory

[aonik]

The recent movie was so cool I had to draw something!

[becca-e-barnes]

I've been way too into hot wife stuff at the minute, I blame Serenity Cox and it got me thinking about being Steve's wife but he's really into watching you with Bucky.

Most of the appeal for Steve is that you and Bucky really degrade him. He gets to watch his little wife cum on his best friend's cock while you both taunt him and he never thought he'd be into it the way that he is.

"Your girl's so fuckin' tight, Steve." Bucky pants, slowing his thrusts into you because if he keeps up his current pace, he'll cum faster than he wants to. "Does Stevie fill you the way I do? Bet he can't. He's not as big as me."

You shake your head, staring right at Steve. "Not even close. You're pathetic, aren't you Stevie? You'd rather watch me get fucked by your best friend."

You know it's mean but Steve fucking loves it. He's cum four times already and he's still jerking himself off. It's like he just can't stop and it's so thrilling to see him enjoy this as much as he is.

"I'm gonna cum in your girl, Steve. Gonna make you watch me stuff her so full. Just imagine your pretty little wife with my cum dripping out of her greedy cunt. If you're lucky, she might let you fuck her after I'm finished." Bucky's not usually so vulgar but God, it works wonders for both you and Steve.

"I don't know. I'm not sure if I'll ever want to fuck Steve again." Hearing you say that sends Steve over the edge, spilling a fresh load all over himself while he groans pathetically and even then, he doesn't stop.

"I can't blame you. Now you know how it feels to be fucked right. Felt you cum on me more times than I can count." Bucky's not wrong but his excitement is building and you feel his pace start to falter.

"Fuck, oh fuck." You whimper, feeling the first few pulses of his cock and the unmistakable feeling of his load splashing into your eager body. You've needed this. You were desperate for it and after a second you realise neither of you needed it more than Steve did.

"Good girl, fuckin' take it. I can't stop." Bucky groans, pressed as deep inside you as he can get, pumping his cum right to your cervix. He cums for what feels like an eternity and it's pure bliss.

By the time he's finished, Steve is trembling with need once more.

"If you don't want your wife knocked up with your best friend's baby, I suggest you get to work." You tease, pressing Steve back on the bed and repositioning yourself so you're sitting on his face, letting his best friend's cum drip out of you and into his eager, waiting mouth.

[pharawee]

Joe, no matter whose body you're in, you're still you.

[neiptune]

always for the first time

c/w: 1.2k wc, reader is deep in her head, gojo is stupidly in love & wants nothing more than to be the best boyfriend on planet earth, sickeningly sweet, disgustingly self indulgent, inspired by andré breton's poem, wrote this in like 10 minutes, reader discretion advised: you'll drown in fluff

Life has been brutal in teaching Satoru the consequences of not picking up on things in time and with that now comes the anxiety of missing out on hints, small details, imperceptible signals.

He is a good learner, although he wasn’t ready for what you had in store for him. He can be too much, always has been too much, people have told him. Too strong, too loud, too obnoxious, too dumb. He didn’t know how to juggle his worst traits and keep them under control around you, has never wanted not to scare someone away so bad.

Satoru is also, and most importantly, a keen observer.

He has to be, not only to watch his back every now and again but also to pick up on more subtle things that could escape a less trained eye. You are one of those things.

He has studied you, mapped out every twitch of your lips or crease between eyebrows, he has memorized the heaviness of your sighs and which limits it’s best not to push. He knows you need your space and that some people don’t appreciate how overwhelming his interest in them can be. Because what if his insistence ends up crushing them? What if he cares so much you eventually drift away?

So Satoru knows when to keep quiet, when to leave you be or wrap his arms around your waist to bury a gentle kiss in your hair. You have taught him that he doesn’t have to prove his presence all the time, a broken record of I’m here, don’t you know that I’m here for you?

You know. His presence is embedded in every aspect of your life, in every soft thought crossing your mind. He’s there when he lies on top of you in bed, infinity turned off for good measure, cheek pressed to your stomach and arms wrapped around your frame in a petulant attempt to convince you to stay five more minutes. He’s there when he gets back early from a mission and you come home to the tall, familiar figure making a mess of your kitchen. I had half an hour to spare and I thought you’d like soup.

Satoru sees the flow of individual atoms that make you, you. Which means that he knows when you’re in pain, feels your sadness creeping up into his very bones, only experiences true fear the first time you bury your face into his chest and your body shakes in his arms, consumed by the terror of not seeing him again. Satoru is not scared because he thinks the thought of something happening to him is even remotely rational, it’s the thought of leaving you without him for a second too long that petrifies him.

He’s there when he looks at you and sees everything there’s to see, the good and so much of the bad. Satoru has eyes that grant him extraordinary perception and cause a constant, exhausting influx of information. But he can now see you as well as he sees cursed energy: the flux of excitement, sadness, rage or embarrassment. He sees how big your heart is and yet deems it not nearly large enough to contain the love you have for him and for others, threatening to bubble over at all times.

He sees your shame and insecurities and how desperately you attempt to keep those from him. Sometimes he forces himself to respect it, other times it’s hard not to at least attempt to work his charm.

You could get mad but he can’t risk skipping the chance of reminding you once more that he’s there. Just in case. He’s there.

“What’s up?” he asks nonchalantly, nose still buried in that book you couldn’t stop talking about for an entire week.

“Nothing’s up. If something was up, you’d know first” your grin is charming although a little forced and when you go back to the cooking show you’re watching on television, Satoru lets a few seconds pass.

“I think something’s up”

You sigh. He’s not even looking at you but you feel the wary concern vibrating in his voice.

“I’m okay” your own pitch gets softer, a gentle reminder that there’s nothing to really worry about. It’s just that your mind can get very loud at times, but that’s not to become another one of his battles. He has enough of those already.

But that’s when he puts the novel down, a bunch of dried lavender twigs used as a makeshift bookmark.

“I can see that” he knows the punchline will always make you roll your eyes with fondness, especially if he has his blindfold on “your limbs are still attached, your hair looks pretty, skin is fairly hydrated” you huff out a laugh as he crawls over you only to slump his long, inconveniently heavy body on top of yours.

“But something’s wrong” he whispers it into your skin, hopes that it’s easier to get you to open up if you can’t see him and think he can see less of you. His lips are pressed to your neck and snowy hair tickles your chin, so you attempt to comb some of it back with a light scoff.

“You currently obstructing my airways?”

He lightly pinches your side and you squirm underneath his weight with an airy giggle.

“Stop doing that”

“Doing what?” you flick his forehead but he doesn’t even flinch.

“Deflecting. Something’s wrong, I can feel it”

Satoru wishes he didn’t sound every bit as pathetic as he did. But he’s made peace with the fact that this is what love does to him a long time ago. He’s in love, and pathetic, and simply prays it’s one of the times he’s lucky enough you’ll give him the green light to make a breach in the walls.

“You can feel it?” you muse “what are you, obsessed with me or somethin’?”

“I am” he lightly nips at your jaw and draws a gasp “what a stupid question”

As obsessed as an invincible man can be, one that spends each day hoping he’ll be allowed to gain yet another victory over the ache throbbing in your ribcage. What good is being the strongest if he’s barely allowed to shield you from yourself?  

“I’m just tired” you articulate the words slowly, attentively, and your heart swells in your chest when he instantly stills his movements “it’s a tiring day. I’ll be fine”

And Gojo hums against the warmth of your skin, tightens his arms around you. Of course you’ll be fine, he’ll be there to make sure you will be. Not that you need him to fight your battles, you never needed him in the first place.

“Thank you” for making this one of the moments I’m allowed to climb over those walls, even if just to take a small peek.

“You’re so silly” you smile and don’t even understand how the hell someone could get so lucky.

“S’why you love me”

“Wrong, I love you because of your pretty face and remarkable abs”

“I’m more than a nice piece of ass, y’know?”

Another silent laugh fills the air, now lighter, and you can already feel his smile as you gently pull his blindfold down. Satoru lets you, lifts his face to make your job a little easier and when his eyes slowly flutter open there’s nothing but sincere adoration swirling in them. There’s trust, and love, and you can’t help but force them shut again as you gently press your lips to both his eyeslids.

To tell him that you love him with just as much fierceness, with every fragment of your flawed, human body.

To thank him for seeing you with such earth shattering clarity, always for the first time.

[wandixx]

I have an idea that includes two person love square because identity shenanigans are always fun, but I have no idea what they should do, despite having fun dynamics between them, like:

"Of course they're dating" said Public Opinion about Miss Martian and Phantom, right after she broke his heart a bit by telling him she was in love with someone else (Megan's long distance best friend, Danny). Before this happened, Phantom was overly flirtatious to both Miss Martian and Megan, so she asked Danny what to do about "This one guy in my sports team" and his advice is to tell him to "Fuck off". She does exactly that, without quite understanding the weight of the word and Phantom is stunned into obedience (and he understands that no means no)

Anyway, I need help with actual... plot. Situations I put them through, because I'm determined to write it. They would be cute together imo.

[youchangedmedestiel]

Friend: What are you doing right now?

Me: I have a lot of projects.

Friend: Oh so cool, what are those? New job, new business, new home, new relationship?

Me: Ok, I have a lot of SPN/Destiel projects.

[tavina-writes]

I started writing yet another tag essay in the notes of a different post where OP posited that the reason established relationships that are rock solid or functional are hard to write and find in fiction because there's missing tension due to the lack of will they won't they, and how one way to solve this in a story is to make the characters insane about each other. (The post is here.)

And don't get me wrong! I like when characters are a little or a lot unhinged about each other! and I also like relationships that self destruct, tragedies that end badly, and all that jazz I enjoy these things a lot! They're good things!

But I'm thinking about relationship tension again and how like, okay yes sometimes we want our characters confess they're in love with each other and get together and sail off into a soft epilogue, etc. This too is love!

But I think fundamentally to deny the fact that two (or more) people can love each other deeply, be totally committed to each other, and yet still have difficulties and life problems to tackle together is an underexplored facet of romance. The mundane of this is where the real romance lies on our day to day as people, and I find this so...rarely? tackled in fiction?

Maybe this is because I'm ace, but I feel that there's a distinct? vibe to these sorts of mature and enduring romances where like, the love is there, the commitment is there, but we still have moments we need to work for it because that's life and we work for it because we find each other worth it.

What is more romantic than compromise with someone you care for deeply? What is more romantic than tackling problems together and trying to come to an agreement and sometimes not being able to but still having done your best and accepted the outcome anyway?

What is a long lasting relationship that isn't about give and take and growing together or coming apart? Aren't those stories interesting? How could any long lasting relationship where people are deeply in love with each other be boring when like, to BE in a relationship with someone for ten, twenty, thirty, sixty years and come out the other side of that saying 'you're the one, you're still the one, you've always been the one' is one of the most wild and rare type of relationships to have?

What sort of sacrifice and compromise and work it takes to build that sort of relationship, isn't that interesting? To persist despite moments of doubt and periods of despair and all the work it takes in mundanity? all the trials a relationship like that has to survive and has survived, isn't that still tension? isn't that still interesting?

Maybe it's just me that I find this more interesting than "will they? won't they?" Either they will or they won't but when I'm reading a romance they mostly will! But do they have what it takes to stay there? And if they do isn't that one of the most interesting things in the world to look at?

Isn't that also love?

[catsharky]

May I ask for some details about your Tav? What do you mean by hasnt really lived as a tiefling before? Like literally has never seen another tiefling? Seems like being abducted by the mindflayers introduced major life changes to your Tav

I'm sorry this took so long to answer, but I ended up doing a whole bunch of art to answer this!

Ember has a really extensive backstory that's kind of long, but the short version of it is: she was caught in the crossfire of a deal her parents made with a devil. They couldn't have a child of their own because her mother was too severely ill, so they made the deal in the hopes of returning her health and along with it the ability to bear children. Unfortunately devil deals being what they are, they ended up with Ember who the devil stole from her birth parents.

Her mom was a high elf and her dad a half-elf, and her mom's side of the family were quite vocally anti-Tiefling. Because of her mother's health problems, however, they couldn't just sever contact with her parents because they relied on their money to cover the cost of healers, expensive potion ingredients and the like. They couldn't be trusted not to be a threat to Ember though, so the decision was made to disguise her as their biological daughter throughout her childhood.

Here's an age chart!

As a result, Ember didn't even know she was a Tiefling until she was around 4 or 5, when she began to present as a sorcerer and accidentally undid the disguise spell (she ends up a bard thanks to her mom, but her control of magic comes from sorcery).

Before the events of the game, the most time she ever spent as a Tiefling was when she was 13- when her mom died and her dad disappeared, the disguise spell having relied on her mum's magic. She went through hell for a while after that and as soon as she could learn how to cast the spell herself, she jumped at the chance and went back to living as her old half-elf self. So when she gets taken by the Nautiloid, it's her being forced to actually live as her real self and as a Tiefling for the first time. As a result she doesn't have great control over her tail, because she's just straight up not used to having one.

She also spends a lot of Act 1 jumpscaring herself whenever she walks by a mirror lmao.

I do plan to do some comics that are set earlier in the game at some point, and those ones will explore more of her backstory. What I've done so far has just happened to be set in Act 3, after she's already sorted a lot of her shit out. I just have no idea when that'll actually be!

[feroluce]

For some weird reason, I've always been fascinated by how wildly different Sampo operates in the Underground vs the Overworld.

Sampo is present in both places and even in official sources, he's not really counted as one side or the other- now that the theory has been confirmed in-game, he's generally just lumped in with the Masked Fools.

But there really is a big difference!

Probably the most obvious and well known instance of Sampo's...business practices *cough burglary and fraud COUGH* in the Overworld is from the Belobog Museum event. In it, you don't find out Sampo is the main culprit until near the end, because Pela has to set up a sting just to catch him in the act. And that sting is necessary all because the initial suspect they arrested, Norbert, had pretty much no idea of his partner's identity. Sampo wouldn't even speak to him face-to-face.

And whereas Sampo is normally very pleasant and friendly with the trailblazer...when he thinks he's talking to Norbert here, he straight up says that they are NOT friends. Like he really shuts that shit DOWN.

There's also an Overworld NPC, Chavez, who heads the "Dark Blue Scam Support Group." And he. Really really really does not like Sampo fjkdasjklfdj

Chavez clearly wants Sampo caught, and has literally no positive feelings about him. So. Why call it the Dark Blue Scam? Why not just out him by name? Chavez obviously doesn't give a single shit about Sampo's dignity or privacy. But he never once refers to him as "Sampo," and even the pamphlets he passes out make no mention of it. No one in the entire support group seems to know how to identify him or how to refer to him except by his hair color. If the trailblazer says his name, Chavez reacts as though he's never heard it before.

(I've seen people say this means Sampo Koski is an alias and not his real name? But Ray pointed this out, and honestly I agree; even the Fools call him Sampo, after all. I think it's just that Chavez never knew Sampo's name in the first place, and given his immense distrust, immediately assumes it's an alias.)

And then there's his characters stories, where he proceeds to pull off a heist in the Overworld while in disguise as Brughel Poisson the entire time. Literally his own stories don't mention Sampo's name even once.

So anyway, all this shows that when he's up in the Overworld working cons, Sampo is incredibly slippery and secretive about his identity. The only people who seem to know him are Pela, Serval, and Gepard. He doesn't get close to anyone else, and is even surprisingly unfriendly. Nobody knows his name. No one knows his face. He has zero qualms about backstabbing or double-crossing, and even plans for it in some cases.

Meanwhile, down in the Underground, I'm pretty sure literally the worst thing we hear of him doing is scalping tickets in front of the Fight Club. Which isn't even illegal in a lot of places (although it's certainly a dick move).

In Hook's companion quest, a vagrant miner steals Fersman's equipment and tries to sell it to Sampo. Even before the trailblazer and Hook jump in and out the vagrant as a thief, Sampo hesitates to buy it because it sounds like stolen goods, which he doesn't want any part of.

Even knowing that a geomarrow detector is rare and incredibly valuable in the mines, Sampo makes no attempt to double-cross Hook or profit off of her loss, and even tells her who to go to to get it fixed.

And my favorite example of Sampo in the Underground is the Survival Wisdom adventure mission. In it, Sampo starts up a business with Peak, another miner. And like. In wild contrast to all the cons he pulls above ground, Sampo is actually super nice and helpful here.

Just the same as with Hook's quest, Sampo talks to Peak face-to-face, with no disguises or barriers. When the trailblazer finds them, they're just in the Great Mine, no secretive meeting places. Peak knows Sampo, is familiar with him, and calls him by name. It's not even a con! There's nothing illegal going on; it really is just a business partnership. Peak is more than happy with their deal, he's even pretty enthusiastic about it, because thanks to Sampo he can now make enough money to get by while also accommodating his chronic fatigue.

The only person Sampo lies to in this whole ordeal is the trailblazer, who he manipulates into getting Peak's mining equipment back from the vagrants that stole it in the first place. And when it's done, he rewards them with a legit treasure map.

So when he's working in the Underground, Sampo is MUCH more upright and lawful. Part of this is probably to do with his "business" model- Sampo only takes advantage of the wealthy, and poverty runs rampant in the Underground. When he charges Peak an extra 30% (the same percentage he charges Norbert as a consultation fee in the museum heists- Sampo seems to go by percentage instead of a flat rate, which means his prices are more fair for lower incomes) for carelessly losing their supply, Peak literally starts counting out pocket change.

Dude's working for pennies and good will down there dknsmdmd

And you can twist this into a Robin Hood thing if you want- Sampo IS technically working to feed orphans and heal the sick. He says himself he's more than happy to make up the shortfall between the greedy and the marginalized- I mean he says it in the shadiest way possible, but I doubt the people benefiting from his work really care that he's a slimeball if it means they can survive another day. Even the two heists he pulls in his character stories are literally just him stealing absurd amounts of food.

Personally though I think it is solely because of Natasha, and Sampo is hilariously well-behaved specifically for her, because she keeps him on a short leash JSKZJMSMSKS

[smile-files]

i'm trying to do some speculative biology stuff on how dragons could exist: provided i'm thinking of the typical hexapod/six-limbed dragon (four legs and two wings), however, i have to contrive reasons for how the extra set of limbs would arise on a quadruped, and how they'd function (wyvern dragons are much easier to envision, as they're just scarier pterodactyls); i'm also curious as to how dragons would behave given their anatomy. assorted thoughts below...

for one thing, i instantly imagined dragons evolving from dinosairs. i was thinking of some sort of conjoined/parasitic twin mutation common to the dragon species which would add the extra wings, but that idea rested on one twin having the wing-limbs to contribute to the wingless dominant twin, which apparently would be impossible as all conjoined twins are identical (which is pretty obvious now that i think about it). i should still keep the conjoined twins idea in my back pocket, though, so there could be hydras!

maybe the extra limbs would just be a product of polymelia, specifically notomelia... as it is, though, i'm wondering how the mutant extra limbs would evolve into wings fast enough that the mutation could even persist in the population: the presence of the extra limbs would likely be a hinderance for as long as they aren't actively beneficial, after all. maybe i can look into how pterodactyl and archaeopteryx wings evolved to get a sense of how that occurred: for them, too, any evolutionary stage at the midpoint between leg and wing would likely have not been specialized enough in either direction to be helpful, so the transition must've been quick/direct and therefore a product of a single large mutation with subsequent refinements. for dragons, i could imagine two stages, with a simpler, smaller wing evolving in a quick first pass -- giving the animal more air time when leaping -- and a second stage of the wings enlarging to provide the capacity for real flight. (either way i'd imagine that dragons, like birds and mammals, would initially be very small and only evolve to their maximum size after the extinction of the dinosaurs.) i'd have to look more into the occurrence of notomelia and what causes it (does it even occur in reptiles/dinosaurs?), to see how realistic it would be for it to occur commonly within a species and produce fully-functioning limbs.

i'm picturing dragons as carnivorous, meaning they'd likely evolve from theropods: this would make sense, given theropods' hollow bones, as well as their evolutionary proximity to birds. with that in mind, having the wings as an extra set of limbs would be especially beneficial, as all four of the animal's legs could be maintained: the hindlegs for running, and the forelegs for grasping (these would necessarily not be tiny like a t-rex's). also, the idea of feathered dragons is a very fun one: imagine the vivid colors and patterns they could have!

in terms of size, we tend to picture dragons as very large -- however, i'd have to keep in mind that the larger the animal, the harder it will be to maintain lift and fly efficiently, especially if the animal in question has more than four limbs to carry in addition to its body. there have been some genuinely huge flying reptiles and birds in existence, such as quetzalcoatlus northropi (~35 ft wingspan, 440-550 lbs weight) and pelagornis sandersi (~20 ft wingspan, 48-44 lbs weight) -- and these awesome animals were able to fly, despite being so massive! there are several factors that would contribute to this, including the giant wingspan and hollow bones. because of the weight of the extra limbs, i doubt a hexapod dragon could grow quite as massive as quetzalcoatlus and still be able to fly well, though i still think it would be possible for them to be very large; it's worth mentioning, too, that having four legs to power liftoff would make it more viable for a dragon to take to the skies at all.

in myth, dragons often breathe fire; i don't think i could manage to find a reasonable biological means of that evolving, though perhaps dragons could evolve to spit venom, which would be a more realistic means of delivering a ranged, burning attack. in flight, the dragon could take down its prey by targeting it with venom, then quickly snatch it up with its forelegs to eat without ever alighting. sounds evolutionarily beneficial to me: very efficient, and very awesome.

tying into the trope of a greedy dragon's hoard, perhaps dragons are especially keen to shiny objects, which they can see from afar: with this mid-flight grasping maneuver, they'd snatch them up to add to a bowerbird-like nest decorated with "treasure". to connect more with myth, dragons are often associated with weather, storms in particular; perhaps dragons migrate at high altitudes during rainy seasons, creating that correlation.

it should be noted, too, that the reality in which i'm picturing these dragons is one in which humans also exist. these humans, witnessing the behaviors of these awe-inspiring creatures, would tell stories about them: they breathe fire (they spit venom), and they abduct children (they snatch up their prey in their claws), and they steal treasure from kings (they take shiny things for their nests), and they control the weather (they migrate during the rainy season). perhaps humans aren't their main prey source, causing dragons to be a fear but not a genuine threat to humans (like how we view sharks); or perhaps dragons indeed regularly eat humans, meaning humans have to live out of sight of them. in the latter case, considering how dragons are highly effective predators, they might drive humans towards extinction!

i hope you enjoyed my spec-bio ramble on the evolution, physiology, and behavior of dragons! it's very fun to think about :)

[tea-cat-arts]

[fishofthewoods]

Oh my god I woke up this morning and my Stardew Valley meta post had almost 150 notes????? Hello?????????? Anyways I started writing this last night because @moon-is-pretty-tonight left nice tags on the original so thank you so much!!

We know from the starting scenes of the game that the farmer's grandfather loved Stardew Valley. So why did he leave? Pelican Town is a good place to grow old; George and Evelyn are just fine. It's a fine place to raise a kid, but maybe he just wanted to raise his child closer to real schools and other children.

Or maybe, just maybe, he understood.

Was there a day when he was in his thirties where he looked at his friends and realized they weren't like him? That he could run faster than them, work longer, explore deeper into the hidden places of the valley?

Was there a day when he went to the wizard to ask him for help, for knowledge if nothing else? Did he learn then that his family was different? Special? Chosen? And how did he react? He couldn't possibly raise a child in the valley if they would be as strange and fey as him. He had to leave. There was no other way.

But years later, on his deathbed, did he regret that choice?

Is that why he gave the farmer the letter?

Is that why they went back home?

When the farmer steps off the bus that first day, the valley is still on the cusp of winter, just barely tipping over into spring. The flowers are starting to bloom, but a chill still hangs in the air. As soon as the farmer's boots touch the soil there's a change. The air gets warmer. The trees get greener. Not by too much, not all at once, but it changes.

The junimos watch the farmer as they do their work. They're new to farming, but take to it with frightening speed; their first batch of crops is perfect. None of the townsfolk tell them that parsnips don't normally grow in less than a week, that cauliflowers don't grow to be ten feet tall, that fairies don't visit when the sun goes down and grow potatoes and beans and tulips overnight. The junimos talk amongst themselves in their strange, wild language, and agree: this is the one. They're back. The valley recognizes its own, even when they've left for a generation. The farmers have come home.

Things change fast in the valley. The community center, empty and decrepit for so many years, is rejuvenated. (Lewis says it was abandoned only a few weeks after the farmer's grandfather left. Strange coincidence, he says, that it both came and went with the farmer's family.) The mines and the quarry, similarly abandoned, are explored for the first time in ages. The town becomes cleaner, brighter, more vibrant, happier.

And it is happier. Not just the environment, but the people. It's the talk of the town for weeks when Haley does her first closet purge. Leah's art show in the town square is a huge success. Shane's smiling for the first time since he moved to the valley. All of them, when asked, say it's all thanks to the farmer.

People love to ask why Lewis didn't fix the community center on his own. Why Willy never repaired the boat to ginger island. Why Abigail or Marlon never went down to fix the elevator in the mines, or why Clint didn't fix the minecarts.

But isn't it so much more interesting to ask how those things were there in the first place? How they got so broken down? If the stories the townspeople tell are true, the valley was once a beautiful place, flourishing and full of life; why did that change? When did it change?

Was it when the farmer's grandfather, the locus of the valley, its chosen representative, left town?

And if so, what happens when the farmer comes back?