#again art repository

[frenchy-and-the-sea]

Didn't expect to do this, but. Excerpt from a longer piece I'm working on from my Curse of Strahd campaign, because I was reading over it while trying to find something to work on in the midst of all of this awful shit and got slapped with some very on the nose feelings. Call it my WIP Wednesday, lol.

“But honestly, who is going to blame me for indulging in a little bit of absurdity right now? This whole situation is mad.” “Is it?” Now Ireena turns to face her, brows furrowed in genuine confusion. “How so?” This, from Ireena, is a real question, and not a sarcastic quip at Wyn's expense, so she takes a breath to quell the sudden scorch of fire in her chest and turns her attention back to her sketch.  “Where would you have me start?” she asks, very lightly. “The night that we spent safe among a full caravan of people on a well-traveled trade road, only to wake up in the middle of unfamiliar woods, alone, with necromantic mists chasing our every step? The haunted manor house so full to the brim with moral transgressions that it tried to eat us one floor at a time, and very nearly succeeded? Or perhaps the fact that less than two hours ago, we were sat down at the table of a woman who claims to see the future and told that, despite our inexperience and our incompetence and the fact that we have not so much as a whit of real skill between us, we are apparently meant to be this land’s saviors?” In truth, savior hadn’t been the word that Madam Eva had used. She had been more delicate, less certain; she had used words like ‘might,’ like ‘maybe.’ But she had still held out beseeching hands across her card-strewn table and told them that they carried hope on their shoulders, that she looked to them for the cure to the curse on Barovia’s stricken land. She had still said that they were what she had been waiting for.  The whole thing had been so absurd that Wyn still feels a little glow of pride when she remembers that she hadn’t laughed. Beside her, Ireena nods, slowly.  “I see,” she says, and she probably does, but Wyn can tell by her expression that she also thinks that Wyn is overreacting. The thought is nearly enough to spin up the grease fire burning in her gut again, almost enough to bait the howling animal — but then Wyn takes another breath, and sighs, and shrugs. “I expect that you’re the only one who does,” she says, smiling like there isn't a part of her that wants to start screaming instead. “But, as near as I can tell, I have two options: I can either wallow in the knowledge that this is our death sentence, and spend a very productive evening being a font of wretched despair and grim portent, or —” She makes a flourishing gesture down to the sketch in her lap. “— I can paint a beard onto the wizard. Considering that I expect to spend no small amount of time on the former, I’ve decided to indulge the latter while I have the energy.”

[skaianettechsupport]

Your name is HALLEN HALZAR and you FUCKING HATE BOATS.

trollsona stuff i wanted to show off since my 4/13 stream didn’t work out!! the bottom two are pieces of my vtuber i’m REALLY excited to get to use (soon 😭🙏 i just need to sort out my lag and music issue)

[dailyadventureprompts]

Homebrew Mechanic: Meaningful Research

Being careful about when you deliver information to your party is one of the most difficult challenges a dungeonmaster may face, a balancing act that we constantly have to tweak as it affects the pacing of our campaigns.

That said, unlike a novel or movie or videogame where the writers can carefully mete out exposition at just the right time, we dungeonmasters have to deal with the fact that at any time (though usually not without prompting) our players are going to want answers about what's ACTUALLY going on, and they're going to take steps to find out.

To that end I'm going to offer up a few solutions to a problem I've seen pop up time and time again, where the heroes have gone to all the trouble to get themselves into a great repository of knowledge and end up rolling what seems like endless knowledge checks to find out what they probably already know. This has been largely inspired by my own experience but may have been influenced by watching what felt like several episodes worth of the critical role gang hitting the books and getting nothing in return.

I've got a whole write up on loredumps, and the best way to dripfeed information to the party, but this post is specifically for the point where a party has gained access to a supposed repository of lore and are then left twiddling their thumbs while the dm decides how much of the metaplot they're going to parcel out.

When the party gets to the library you need to ask yourself: Is the information there to be found?

No, I don't want them to know yet: Welcome them into the library and then save everyone some time by saying that after a few days of searching it’s become obvious the answers they seek aren’t here. Most vitally, you then either need to give them a new lead on where the information might be found, or present the development of another plot thread (new or old) so they can jump on something else without losing momentum.

No, I want them to have to work for it:  your players have suddenly given you a free “insert plothook here” opportunity. Send them in whichever direction you like, so long as they have to overcome great challenge to get there. This is technically just kicking the can down the road, but you can use that time to have important plot/character beats happen.

Yes, but I don’t want to give away the whole picture just yet:  The great thing about libraries is that they’re full of books, which are written by people,  who are famously bad at keeping their facts straight. Today we live in a world of objective or at least peer reviewed information but the facts in any texts your party are going to stumble across are going to be distorted by bias. This gives you the chance to give them the awnsers they want mixed in with a bunch of red herrings and misdirections. ( See the section below for ideas)

Yes, they just need to dig for it:  This is the option to pick if you're willing to give your party information upfront while at the same time making it SEEM like they're overcoming the odds . Consider having an encounter, or using my minigame system to represent their efforts at looking for needles in the lithographic haystack. Failure at this system results in one of the previous two options ( mixed information, or the need to go elsewhere), where as success gets them the info dump they so clearly crave.

The Art of obscuring knowledge AKA Plato’s allegory of the cave, but in reverse

One of the handiest tools in learning to deliver the right information at the right time is a sort of “slow release exposition” where you wrap a fragment lore the party vitally needs to know in a coating of irrelevant information,  which forces them to conjecture on possibilities and draw their own conclusions.  Once they have two or more pieces on the same subject they can begin to compare and contrast, forming an understanding that is merely the shadow of the truth but strong enough to operate off of. 

As someone who majored in history let me share some of my favourite ways I’ve had to dig for information, in the hopes that you’ll be able to use it to function your players.

A highly personal record in the relevant information is interpreted through a personal lens to the point where they can only see the information in question 

Important information cameos in the background of an unrelated historical account

The information can only be inferred from dry as hell accounts or census information. Cross reference with accounts of major historical events to get a better picture, but everything we need to know has been flattened into datapoints useful to the bureaucracy and needs to be re-extrapolated.

The original work was lost, and we only have this work alluding to it. Bonus points if the existent work is notably parodying the original, or is an attempt to discredit it.

Part of a larger chain of correspondence, referring to something the writers both experienced first hand and so had no reason to describe in detail. 

The storage medium (scroll, tablet, arcane data crystal) is damaged in some way, leading to only bits of information being known. 

Original witnesses Didn’t have the words to describe the thing or events in question and so used references from their own environment and culture. Alternatively, they had specific words but those have been bastardized by rough translations. 

Tremendously based towards a historical figure/ideology/religion to the point that all facts in the piece are questionable.  Bonus points if its part of a treatise on an observably untrue fact IE the flatness of earth

[3amfanfiction]

My Stories

Main Repository || Art Snippets Repository || Older Work

This is the list of my current/recent stories. They range from fluffy-sweet, to smutty, to angst. Don't forget to check content warnings and MDNI. Enjoy!

Call of Duty

Simon Riley x Reader

What we do in the Woods - Multi stand-alone stories. Explore your life after you've been kidnapped by a serial killer. Check content warnings.

Doll and Darling - Multi stand-alone stories. Explore the lives of Doll and Darling who have been kidnapped by Simon and John. Check content warnings.

Simon Gets Sick - 1.2k Simon gets sick but he won't admit to anything. You decide it's time to get sneaky.

And We Go Again - 4k Simon broke your heart when he left. Is he surprised that you moved on? Why is he showing back up?

Kyle Garrick x Reader

It’s Just Dinner - Multi-chaptered, Complete, 8k Kyle asks you to go to dinner with his captain. Check content warnings.

Johnny MacTavish x Reader

Neighbor Johnny - 2k You have a new neighbor who is insistent on being friendly.

Simon Riley x Johnny MacTavish

Johnny's Halloween Costume - 2.2k Johnny is proud of his Halloween costume. It seems Ghost likes it too. MDNI

John Price x Reader

Daddy's Little Girl - 3.1k Dad!Price is at a loss when his sweet daughter is begging for his cock. It's not one of her safe days so what is he to do? MDNI

[blueskittlesart]

Question abt drawing: been trying to attempt learning how to draw forever but I always have trouble getting over the obstacle of having to learn/study things like anatomy and shading, which then causes me to stop drawing and have a harder time picking it back up. I know it's important for improving your art and yourself as an artist but I can't help but see it as tedious and overwhelming, especially the anatomy since it's more on the science side of things and science is not my thing lol. Do you have any advice on how to get over it or work thru it?

i think there's a couple facets to this question. firstly i'd recommend you consider what exactly your end goal is in learning how to draw: do you specifically want to be able to produce anatomically accurate figures and true-to-life shading, or do you just want to be able to make something for fun that looks good to you? one of the most helpful things I ever learned at art school was that accuracy doesn't matter if it looks good. 99% of my art isn't strictly anatomically accurate, and part of that is stylization, but even when i'm doing realistic figure drawings i like to lengthen limbs and exaggerate curves in order to make my drawings look better. So if your only real goal with art is to make something that looks good and enjoy the process, my first piece of advice would be to stop worrying so much about stuff like perfect accuracy! if you use references and keep pushing yourself, the skill and understanding you're looking for will come naturally with time. before I was ever classically trained, I got pretty far just by drawing my favorite characters in different poses and situations over and over again, and that experience laid the groundwork for when classical training did become available to me. Just because you're not necessarily doing serious figure studies doesn't mean you're not getting valuable practice--what it means is that you're having FUN while you're practicing, and having fun with your art is the most important thing!!!

Secondly, you mentioned anatomy being on the science side of things, which suggests to me that you may be looking in the wrong places when trying to do more serious anatomical study. if you look up 'anatomy' or anything similar on a web search engine, you're likely going to get a lot of very complex scientific illustrations. and while those aren't necessarily devoid of artistic value (I took a class all about scientific anatomy for artists last semester and it was GREAT) for a beginner who's just trying to learn how to make a body look like a body, they're not what you're looking for. what is going to be much more helpful for you are sites like line of action or quickposes. these sites are basically repositories of figure drawing images, and you can set them to automatically switch to a new image after a certain interval of time. if you really, desperately want to improve your anatomy specifically, what I recommend is going to one of these sites, setting it to the shortest interval possible, and trying to copy the pose as closely as you can before time is up. this might sound crazy, since the shortest interval is usually somewhere between 30-60 seconds, which obviously isn't enough to get much down. but what this will do is force you to look at how these models' bodies are constructed and translate it onto the page quickly and without overthinking it. be warned, your first maybe hundred of these are going to look like shit. but if you do this enough, you're eventually going to gain an intrinsic sense for 1. how a body works and 2. the easiest way for you personally to construct a body when drawing it. even without knowing the scientific names and anatomical rules, you're going to get a FEEL for how things work, which is much more important and useful to you as a character artist.

Finally, i think the most important thing to remember is that no art is bad art, even if you're not satisfied with the end product. when you're first starting out as an artist, you're going to make things that don't look right and you're going to be frustrated with yourself because of it. i vividly remember crying over a sketchbook at maybe age 11 or 12 because I was so upset i couldn't put exactly what was in my head on the page. Skill comes with time and practice and that is a frustrating fact of life, but no time spent doing something you enjoy and are passionate about is wasted. It might look bad now but you are laying the groundwork for your future success, and someday you're probably going to look back on your past work and say "I can't believe I thought this looked bad back then. for my age and my skill level i was doing AMAZING." And as previously mentioned, it's a lot less discouraging when something looks bad if you had fun making it, so try to have FUN with your art. draw things you enjoy and are passionate about and don't worry if it looks bad. focus on the experience, the skill will come in time. you've got this!!

[lsleofthelost]

once again, im here with set pictures, info from the set designer, Mark Hofeling, and my own commentary on it. this time, i wanna share stuff on Isle of the Lost from Descendants 2.

post about Isle of the Lost in part one

post about Maleficent's castle

Ursula's Fish and Chips Shoppe:

About Ursula's place: "Like all the imprisoned villains on the Isle of the Lost, Ursula has had to find a way to make ends meet. Thus her Fish and Chips Shoppe is right at the tide line of the prison island. I wanted the feel of a faded old carnival attraction, still alluring despite its decay."

"Uma (China Anne McClain) and her pirate gang, including her trusted lieutenants Harry Hook (Thomas Doherty) and Gil (Dylan Playfair) rally to take back what is theirs in Uma's mother's dingy tidal pool of a Fish and Chips Shoppe."

"A detail of the menu board and specials in Ursula's Fish and Chips Shoppe."

i think this gives us info on the money on the Isle. there are two units, m and n, and there are a 100n in 1m. i think the prices are comprable to us dollars back like 30-40 years ago? which further supports my theory that the Isle is stuck in the past, in the time of their imprisonment. the menu itself has some genuine regular items, like fish cakes, dumplings, but most of them are isle specials, like pond scum, shell smell, and gulf goo. which i think is hilarious considering Ursula and Uma still just serve them whatever.

"A detail of Uma's coral throne."

Isle of the Lost:

"A view of Low Tide Lane on the Isle of the Lost. Having been an isolated prison island for decades now, the idea was that every slat and board is on its 9th or 10th life, and every object not screwed down had changed grubby hands hundreds of times."

they kept the dirty candy colour palette! and i love how they truly kept to the 'everything is used and stolen 10 times over' philosophy.

this is the Bazaar, which is another market on the Isle. there is one in the main square and then this is the one closer to the docks, we can see Mal riding through it in D2. here, we once again see the money measurement. and i think it's intereting to see that crab and potatoes are priced higher than other things. i also like the 'satisfaction no guaranteed' sign.

Curl Up and Dye:

"Drizella's Curl Up and Dye on the Isle of the Lost is where Mal and Evie load up on chemicals for their showdown with Uma's pirate gang. So more than a hair salon as absurd as the rest of the Isle, it also had to be a repository for all kinds of chemistry and alchemy. The idea here was that out of every 100 of young Dizzy's experimental, chemical beauty concoctions, 99 blow up."

"The ever-unpredictable dye distillery."

"A detail of the dry chemistry set up."

i like that the base for this is a rough finish, like a construction before any renovation. and then its just neon splashes and broken mirrors from Dizzy's experiments. also i like the note that it's more chem lab than a salon.

Rotten four's hideout:

"The VK's hideout was always a place of respite from their raging and overbearing parents. It's where the VK's purloined all the best stuff on the Isle, and where Mal perfected her street art. "

this is Mal's room! which confirms for me that she doesn't live with her mother, at least not full time.

im kinda sad that we didn't get a view of the side with all those board games (kitchen, i think?) but even just these pictures are full of interesting details! as far as i saw only Mal's and Jay's 'Long Live Evil' tags are on the walls, i think it's because it was theirs first. i like the thorns that are circling the walls, like Maleficent's thorns around Sleeping Beauty's castle. they have some kind of an old school sound system, too! which i can i assume they use when throwing parties. and there are bikes, probably repaired 10 times over, but prised nonetheless. also, i thought that the green lamp in Mal's room is a hookah lol

Uma's ship:

"Uma and her pirate gang rule the rotting docks and rocky edge of the Isle of the Lost."

"Uma's HQ is this ruined pirate ship. After all the Disney Villains were relocated to the Isle of the Lost, all the ships that brought them were scuttled and they were all locked behind an enchanted barrier. So this is one of many wrecks in these waters, including the sails of the ship, rammed into her side. We found real tall-ship riggers for this work, and they used 10,000 feet of rope in the process."

i love that they really rigged that ship! i think it's a detail that shows that Uma's pirates are real professionals.

"This photo shows the "rickety" and treacherous landscape of the rotten docksides. This became the setting of a 20 person melee to rescue King Ben and escape the Isle and Uma's vengeful clutches."

we can see Uma's 'We ride with the tide' tag in the bg, signifying that this is her territory.

there are a lot of cool details but what i'm focusing on here are the old school washing machines, again showing us how the Isle is frozen in time. im assuming theyre on the docks because this is where the water is.

i am looking to make another post with details from D3, here's hoping i'll get to it sooner than i did this follow up

[subspaceskater]

once again apologizing for not having my easier to access nsfw art repository ready

[miyuskye]

HERE I GO with this super interesting event from the All Ships Ship Week event hosted by @ficwip

The ship dossier! And what ship I could've dossiered if not my current hyperfixation, aka Jon/Elias??? Sooo, the thing with loving a podcast is that you don't get a lot of official art, since the physical descriptions are also very scarce by author's choice. BUT! they recently made a TTRPG game based on the podcast, which these semi-canon designs. My personal image of the characters in influenced by the huge amount of fanarts circulating around, but, probably an unpopular opinion, I like these designs too. With reference to the image, the top one (not in the ship sense) is Jon, aka the Archivist, aka the pet project/obsession and the bottom one (again, not in the ship sense) is Elias/spoiler, aka the mentor/obsessed.

It would have been great, if I did actually understand the assignment and not gone off the trail with a full AO3 statistical analysis. Under the cut because probably not a lot of people are interested in my ramblings. The dossier is intended for both people familiar with the series, but also for people who know nothing about it. Warning for sparse spoilers about the whole TMA series (not TMP since I still have to listen to it!) (as I said, Elias is a big spoiler himself lol)

Let's begin this trip with a biiig disclaimer. Sadly for us avid AO3 users, the AO3 fandom does not represent the fandom in whole, so these stats are based only on the number of works in the AO3 context. Looking around at non-fanfic related site, i.e. reddit, I know there are some JE shipper there too, though I can't really be sure in what percentage with respect to the non-shipping community (or the people only shipping the canon couple). Links to the guru of fandom stats! toastystats (tumblr), AO3. There's also a github repository but I personally found it a bit cranky to use and it doesn't use an AO3 updated DB, though for big data statistics is fine due to the central limit theorem but for smaller fandom/tags it might be a bit inaccurate. Also the code is in python 2, which is now a bit difficult to use. I personally made my stats by doing targeted searches using the AO3 search function! Super easy to use, albeit a bit repetitive. Stats were made on Oct, 19-22, 2024. Again, I think the results won't change much through the years, especially regarding the main TMA tag data, but who knows if JonElias will surge in popularity (hehe it's a distant hope, I'm pretty much sure that the population distribution is already well-established).

TMA (The Magnus Archive) is a horror podcast, following the events of Jonathan Sims, aka Jon, aka the first part of my ship, who works at the Magnus Institute. This Institute is a facility researching in supernatural events and records supernatural encounters in the form of statements given by volunteering people. Jon is the Head Archivist, meaning he manages the statements and records some "odd ones", as per request of the Head of the Institute and his direct superior, Elias. Sooo yes, he's also his boss. :) lovely for them.

My lovely idiots are the 3rd most popular ship! Such a big achievement for me, who I usually ship obscure ships. As of today, we have 1434 JE works out of the whole 29751 works in the TMA tag. Way to go, JE community, let's keep this up!

The Jon/Martin ship is actually canon in the podcast, so that big percentage, compared to other fandoms, is largely explained by that (instead of simple popularity like Oikawa/Iwaizumi in the Haikyuu fandom). My other favorite ship is Jon/Tim, and I proudly contributed to that 2.78% (ofc also to the 4.8% of JE but it seemed quite superfluous to write).

Fun fact: speaking of spoilers, Elias' character tag in AO3 is a MASSIVE spoiler. It was what ruined the plot twist for me, because I looked for fanfics around ep 40ish (out of 200) and got that spoiled :( I understand why AO3 did that, because before the reveal the tags referring to Jonah and Elias were separated and I guess they wanted to unite them (since I also read some Jonah/Jon works before the reveal - all of them ended up having Elias being somewhat connected to Jonah OF COURSE, but I believe that before The Reveal there was also the belief that Elias was one of his descendants. I became part of the fandom after that, though, so it's just speculation based on older posts I came across).

This is probably my most favourite slide. JonElias has the highest Mature-to-Gen ratio (based on the AO3 rating system) with respect to the other ships. Jon/Martin, being 40% of the works also leads most of the general fandom stats, so it's more correct to actually cite the ship that makes the stat. I also believe that a lot of the more Gen-oriented fics feature Jon/Martin due to them being canon, that is also one of the possible factors influencing their and the whole tag ratios. Due to this, I believe that the Elias/Peter ratio might actually influenced by that, since they're a non-conflicting couple with the main one and are thus frequently included in their fanfics. The other fave of mine also has a higher Mature-to-Gen ratio than the general one, but not as high as JE.

Jon is the main character, so it's obvious that he is the most cited in all the works. Elias is the villain, so it's not so strange. Also, this refers to the characters tags, and this means that Elias might be included as a character even in other ships-based works. I believe the same happens with Tim, since ships with him have a lower presence in the fandom, but he is the third most included character. It's probably because he gets included into most of the Gen/JMart works.

These are the most used AO3 tags for the JonElias main ship tag. Do I really need to explain? They just do the talking in my place lol

A few words on the Alternate universe tag: AUs are somewhat canon in the show, due to plot-related reasons, and I believe this gives us space to imagine, stories where Jon is as deranged as Elias without denaturing canon. I personally believe Jon has the capacity of being feral as, if not even more than, Elias. Canon showed us a glimpse of what we could have but ended up not getting, again, due to plot-related reasons. Some fanfics are based on those glimpses. Also the Do not Archive will be an interesting topic to talk about later!

These are the most used tags for the individual characters. Some of them are also matching but not in their JE tagged works. For example, the tag Fluff might be present in 12% of Elias' works but more than half of those works are Jon/Martin-based works, so he's included in the work but, in a way, not actively participating in the fluff. Also, Jon is canonically asexual, hence the related tag! A few words on that, this doesn't and rightly won't stop people from producing M and E-rated works with him and characters (not necessarily Elias), contrary to what some people might think. And I assure you, as an asexual person, that no one of the JE fanfics I read (even the ones without the Asexual character tag) erased Jon's asexuality. If anything, the ones where Jon's asexuality was present and acknowledged were also my favorites!

Small digression on the Do not archive tag. I noticed that both JE and Elias' tag had a percentage of works being under that tag. Which is used when an author does not want the series staff to read their works. It's mostly used on M+E works (77% of DNA tagged works are M or E rated on AO3), as one would expect. At first I guessed it was related to the pronounced M-to-T ratio of the JE tag (which is even more pronounced on the DNA tag), buuut it turns out the main cause was just a quirk of the data/bias of the data case. As I said, there are only 1434 (as of end-October 2024) works in the JE tag and this means that this number can be biased by a single external source, which causes the shift in the data. This means that this is not a trend!

By excluding the cause from the analysis, the Do not archive tag percentages for JE are still higher than the other ships, but not by such a large margin (around 7% which makes sense).

Nothing to say here, the series reaching its peak in terms of fandom response and also due to COVID making people consume more media content, the JE rise followed the general raise of fanfics in the TMA tag. Which isn't surprising but not to be taken for granted either! Another sad but probably not a trend fact is that Jon/Elias production was slightly more flourishing during the earlier years of the series (especially 2018-2019), than it is now. This might probably related to a ship actually being made canon or probably fandom disappointment in the TMA finale (which I can understand). I read in a lot of earlier JE fanfics very excited comments about "omg I can't wait to see him and Jon in s4/5" and I was like *sad violin noises*, because they didn't get the amount of (canon-expected) interactions the JE fandom thought they would get. Again, this is just speculation and to be taken with a grain of salt.

Unexpectedly, M+E JE works have more words that Gen-rated ones (expected on the JE tag due to their M-to-T ratio, but kinda unexpected compared to the whole TMA tag).

JE fanfics are slightly more kudo-ed and bookmarked than the general fandom trend.

A conclusive remark, is that I made this just to see what behaviours could be extrapolated from such a tiny tag in an otherwise medium fandom (as for 2020, median number of fanworks in labelled big fandom was 45k. Havign roughly half of that number means that TMA is, on AO3, a medium fandom to me).

Anyhow, I wish you happy JonElias day which for me is once again every day since twp months ago :)

[vintagerpg]

The second volume of the Doomstones campaign is Blood in the Darkness (1990). If you liked the first one, you’ll like this one. If not, well, this is basically the same stuff. Traverse some difficult countryside, fight some monsters. There are live orcs in this one, at the shrine that serves as the destination and the repository of the Crystal of Earth. For what it is, it’s pretty OK, it just isn’t what I want.

The lower levels of the shrine are a bit more Tomb of Horrors than I was expecting. There are hints and handouts that kind of clue in players to what kind of traps they might encounter. Those traps, well, the one main trap, is a doozy. I don’t know how I feel about it! On the one hand, it makes sense: it is there to kill intruders and prevent them from getting further into the vault. Most traps in RPGs are not designed so efficiently, and I appreciate that. I also like the way the handouts help the players out, which addresses my concern about the unfairness of Tomb of Horrors. But I dunno, I think this trap is just gonna kill parties no matter what, you know? And that…is not my ideal outcome. Maybe I’m wrong, it could be easier to figure out in play.

Tony Ackland does the bulk of the interior art, and it is good. I am not sure who does the cover because, again, it is not credited.

[ozzgin]

hope this doesn't come off as rude, but do you condone the usage of ai art? because I noticed you use ai art for quite a few of your post headers ^^;

No worries, it's a reasonable question, although a rather complex one! There are multiple layers that I would like to go through when answering you.

Do I condone the use of AI as a replacement for actual art? Obviously not. I enjoy drawing, and I enjoy collecting art. This won't change regardless of technology. The reality, however, is that generative AI will continue to develop, whether we like it or not. So, you know, instead of denying its existence, I would prefer to openly discuss it and have it regulated by laws and ethical conducts. For example, laws that would protect artists from being laid off in favor of one single AI engineer. Or laws that would limit the profit companies can make using undisclosed AI. Basically, making sure that this new technology serves the people instead or rendering them useless.

Do I condone the use of AI for individual use? Depends. My opinion is that non-profit, entertainment purposes are not the root of the problem. Someone generating a funny image of a cat is not the equivalent of someone generating hundreds of images a day. Those terrible environmental statistics you see online are mostly targeted at this kind of business usage. If you were to go on Instagram, for example, you would find a lot of accounts who publish vast amounts of AI works, often omitting this fact. Some sell merch, advice, or - if they are honest about their methods - courses and books on prompts and AI imagery. It's an actual thing. Does it take visibility away from actual artists? Absolutely. Even worse, it leads to a lot of doubt, where artists must prove themselves against accusatory claims. Again, I believe the solution is not to ignore progress or demand it stops, but to find concrete measures and implement them.

I use AI images for story headers, strictly for decorative purposes. If I want to express something visually, I will draw it myself. I do not have the time nor resources to draw every single picture I want to use on my hobby blog. Whoever disagrees with it is free to pay me a full employee salary. Mind you, on that note, I've seen a lot of people mentioning Pinterest and similar as open sources for pictures. They are not free repositories to just grab whatever you want. That photograph of a foggy forest was taken by someone and requires crediting. That unspecified manga panel was drawn by someone and requires crediting. 90% of the images I see here have no source or credit. I find it terribly hypocritical to parade as a supporter of human arts while conveniently ignoring every case where said human art is stolen, modified or uncredited.

Lastly, do I condone the use of AI by artists? This is an interesting topic, and a recent case immediately comes to mind: a well-established artist I've been following for over a decade has alluded to potentially training AI to replicate their art in the future. It's their way of easing their workload. Is it any different from comic artists using filtered photos to skip drawing backgrounds, for example? Is it any different from commission artists pre-drawing body parts and objects as brushes and stamps, so they can skip a lot of the drawing process? I am not a professional artist, nor do I require the use of this sort of assistance, but I cannot help but wonder: how many of the individuals who had a meltdown over this suggestion have actually paid or tipped an artist in their life? How many of them regularly call out stolen content? How many are mindful about the content they share/distribute/save, making sure it involves given permissions and fulfills ethical standards? I'm not necessarily calling people out; rather, I'm saying that the outrage is misdirected and untargeted.

I don't have a concrete conclusion to the last paragraph. It's a novel dilemma, a gray area with a lot of factors involved. At least to me. I wanted to include it in the conversation to show that generative AI and its implications are rapidly changing and expanding, so it's difficult to encapsulate it all in one definite opinion. All I can tell you is that my appreciation for human art has not changed, and I will continue to support it. :)

[hazyange1s]

MC: Raegan DesRosiers

Basics

Full name: Raegan Caítríona DesRosiers

Nickname: Rae, Rae Rae, Reggie (don’t call her that she’ll hex you)

Gender: female

Species: witch

Date of birth: November 27, 1874

Nationality: French and Irish

Blood status: half blood

Wand: blackthorn, dragon heartstring, 11 3/4 in, rigid

Appearance

Hair color: dark ginger

Hair style: often worn pulled back in a loose braid or bun, though she starts wearing it down w/ her natural messy waves in sixth year

Eye color: amber

Skin tone: fair

Height: 5’5” (and some change)

Body type: curvy and toned from Quidditch/dueling

Clothing style: dark and warm colors (black, red, brown), likes heavy fabrics such as wool, velvet, and leather, prefers to dress casual in battle-ready clothes but also enjoys dressing up

Accessories:

likes to use her wand to keep her hair up

often wears dragon hide gloves

ring made of goblin metal (given to her in sixth year)

Other distinguishing features:

two old scars through her left eyebrow (no memory of getting them)

longer scar over the same eye (cut by a sword during the final repository battle)

LOTS of freckles

Personality

Traits: confident, hotheaded, proud, rebellious, domineering, persuasive, flirtatious

Likes: summer, history, flying, parties, freedom, traveling, independence

Dislikes: authority, swimming/the rain, silence, wet blankets, seafood

Hobbies: dueling, Quidditch, historical research, dancing, weapon-making

Fears: drowning, being forgotten/insignificant, losing control

MBTI: ESTP-T

Enneagram: 8w7 (873) sx/sp

Zodiac: Sagittarius sun, scorpio moon, leo rising

Temperament: choleric

Archetype: The Rebel

Similar characters: Aelin Galthynius, Ginny Weasley, Damon Salvatore, Bellamy Blake, Jude Duarte, Faith Lehane

Family/Friends

Father: Marcel DesRosiers

Muggle

French diplomat

Left when Raegan was eight

Massive preening asshole who despises magic

Mother: Kassady DesRosiers (Fallon)

Pureblood witch

Dragonologist

Killed when Raegan was 15 (a victim of Jack the Ripper)

Gryffindor alumnus

Sibling: Ronan Sharp (half-brother/twin in utero)

Parents are Kassady DesRosiers and Aesop Sharp

Two months older (born Sept. 21)

Hufflepuff

Pet: Soleil

Phoenix (found in the mountain cave)

Fiercely loyal; as all phoenixes are, known to show up at odd times (whether she’s in trouble or just to harass his mom)

Friends: Diana Blackwine (childhood best friend), Sebastian Sallow, Natsai Onai, Garreth Weasley, Ominis Gaunt, Leander Prewett, Imelda Reyes (frenemies)

Magic

Boggart: her father…until her guilt over the loss of Professor Fig leads him to be her new one

Patronus: tigress

Polyjuice: turns amber and tastes like honey mead

Amortentia: cinnamon, clove, smoke, and sandalwood

Special abilities:

Ancient magic

Dark Arts (wielded “when necessary” which is really just…whenever her instincts say)

Pyromancy - Raegan is an Igneus; a species of witch that is immune to and can conjure fire at will, the trait being passed through her mother’s bloodline

Backstory

Born in Avignon, France, Raegan had a turbulent childhood. While her mother was loving and kind, she often had to travel for her work - as did Raegan’s father, meaning she was often with only one parent for extended periods of time or had to be watched by one of her paternal aunts. When he was around, Marcel was not an affectionate man…in fact, he was often physically and verbally abusive to his wife right in front of Raegan and extended the treatment to her as she got older.

Eventually he discovered that Kassady had had an affair and conceived a son with another man. This coupled with his disdain for witchcraft led him to abandon his wife and daughter. So, the two moved back to Kassady’s hometown of Galway, Ireland.

However, times were tough. Her mother’s career as a dragonologist was no longer lucrative enough in the troubling times, and so they again relocated to London.

It was there that Kassady met a tragic, sudden end at the hands of an unidentified serial killer (who many suspected was actually a wizard). A newly orphaned Raegan, upon hearing the news, burned her house to the ground and wound up killing the officer who reported it accidentally.

The emotion was enough to unlock the ancient magic that had been hidden away inside of her, and just days after her mother’s funeral she received her Hogwarts letter. She now lives with her best friend (Diana)’s aunt in Scotland.

Academics

Best subject: DADA

Favorite subject: Flying and History of Magic

Favorite teacher: Hecat and Sharp

Worst subject: Herbology

Least favorite subject: Herbology and Divination

Least favorite teacher: Binns

Quidditch: Chaser (sixth year) and Quidditch Captain in seventh

As a student:

Rarely late, but she does miss (more than) a few classes in her fifth year

Detention record reads more like a rap sheet

Infamous but still respected; dedicated and intelligent

Future

Career: Auror

Though Raegan notoriously resists authority and despises the incompetence of the Ministry, she sees working for them as an opportunity to change things. Being in on the more secretive matters going on behind the scenes of the Wizarding World (and the chance to deal with them under the protection of their influence) doesn’t hurt, either.

They likely would have fired her on her first day for her insubordination, but they can’t deny the fact that she quickly becomes one of the best they have. Really, it’s a case of mutual loathing maintained through an advantageous truce.

Eventually, she does leave of her own accord, and takes up studying ancient history and magical weapon making.

Spouse: Sebastian Sallow (m. 1898)

(thanks @rypnami for motivating me by association to finally post this months old draft 🤠)

[soracities]

Your account is absolutely wonderful.. I am assuming that it takes a lot of time and dedication to absorb so much art... I find myself drifting away, always exhausted from my job... So I guess my question is what do you do for work and how do you stay inspired?

most of my time is spent child-minding and while that has left me with very little time to read and watch the things i want--and can be quite exhausting in and of itself--i think there is a little trade-off in that children keep you attentive to the world around you in a way you would not otherwise be, if only because you have to be that attentive to answer all their countless questions. so in a sense there is some inspiration i glean from that.

otherwise, i think this blog sometimes does give off the impression that i'm more well-read than i actually am; in reality, i dance on the surface of a lot of artworks but am passionate about maybe a tiny handful of works, and maybe, like, two painters. i have a "to watch" list that far exceeds my lifespan given that i actually watch, maybe, 3 movies a year. i have finished one (short) book since 2023 started and it took me six months to read that. the books that i've managed to read over the years, i've read chiefly in bursts and almost always in time periods where i was lucky enough in that i didn't have much to occupy me; even then, i'm aware i didn't read as much as i could have done with the time i had, but i'm also the kind of person who cannot devour book after book endlessly, either--i have a very clear saturation point, after which i need to do something different.

i think this blog, more than anything else, is a kind of repository of all the little fragments of thoughts or books or the world that interest and catch me and that i want to keep, but what i actually spend time with and dive into makes up an absolutely miniscule fraction of that. there have been long months (and years) where i did not have it in me to maintain any kind of sustained attention to reading or poetry, but i think the ability to do so is a huge, often unacknowledged, priviliege that requires not just time and economic security, but also mental clarity. i'm saying this to stress that what you feel, especially with whatever demands your job makes on you, is entirely normal and not anything to be ashamed of: the toll bills take, that laundry takes, that cooking and cleaning and countless other errands take are not to be underestimated when you go into them already sapped of most of your reserves in the first place.

it's something i've felt quite often (and still do); carving out the time to read as much or as often as i would like to does require dedication which i do not always have the energy for. but i think for me, to answer your question regarding inspiration, especially during the times when i'm not reading anything, inspiration is in paying as much attention as i can to the world around me, no matter how tiny the details are. there's a quote by william stafford where he talks about the ability to have "one vivid morning" and then "chain myself to it for fifty years". i don't have any set "philosophy" on life, but that is one thing i have always lived by: i still remember a single razor of light i saw on the railway tracks one morning a year ago which caught me by surprise, or the time on the bus when the setting sun filled the top deck and i knew then by the colour of it that summer was coming, or when i got up close to a patch of damp moss to see all its tiny little hairs more clearly, or one afternoon five years or so ago when i bought some loose pears from a corner shop and they were the sweetest, most-melt-in-the-mouth-juiciest pears i'd ever had....i can obsess over the light through a window over and over and over again no matter how often i see it. my mother put some lilies in a vase in the living room a few weeks ago and the entire time i was enraptured with how the scent hit me everytime i'd come into that room. even after more than a week they still enraptured me; each time was like i discovered them all over again and that brightened my mood so immeasurably.

for me inspiration is chiefly about recognizing the things that bring me joy and then holding them as closely as i can. there's a game i've started playing if i'm on a long bus trip where i take the number of a random bus stop i pass and if it's lower than 2020 i google what events happened in that year and pick the one that interests me most: if i'm going to be on my phone anyway, i will be on it in a way that aligns with what i already enjoy (FACTS!) and won't drain me (social media). when i don't have the energy to finish or even pick up a book, i'm subscribed to sites like Aeon, Ordinary Plots, Diaries of Note, or grieftolight on instagram (shoutout to forever beloved @firstfullmoon doing the lord's work with that account, truly), or podcasts i like, which allow me to read or experience little bits and pieces here and there without the pressure or anxiety-inducing commitment. if there is a poem i love i try to spend as much time with it as i can, which often just takes the form of me writing it down (by hand, usually-- that part is important) into a ledger of poems i keep which i can return to whenever i want, underlining my favourite parts or just rereading what spoke to me (i also love going to exhibits or museums (which, luckily, are mostly free where i live) or taking note of all the random bits of street art i see)

a year or so ago i also started, and this has changed my life, to copy down some of my favourite quotes i've reblogged onto little cue cards and stick them on the wall by my bed. some are poems, some are bits of novels or scraps of philosophy, some are motivational tidbits, but all of them are things i want to be reminded of. it helps me remember the lines i most want to keep and also grounds me in an odd way, but more than that, it just makes me happy. if i'm doom-scrolling, or having a rough evening, i can turn to that wall and read the things that mean most to me.

i don't know if any of this helps, and i'm conscious of not putting these out there as a cure-all because i'm very aware of how quickly, and how easily, this society and its set-up can drain you. i am, though, a staunch proponent of approaching art (any kind) and your engagement with it from a place and a pace that is true to you, before anything else, and that includes taking into account your own circumstances and what would bring you the most enjoyment within the means you have available to you: sometimes that's a 20 minute radio interview about blackholes, sometimes it's counting how many birds you pass as you walk through the park, sometimes it's 150 page novella it takes you half a year to finish. whatever it may look like, center your own pleasure first. i hope this can give you something, anon ♡

[felassan]

Some more snippets of interest and insight from Mark Darrah, from some older Mark Darrah on Games YouTube videos where he was livestreaming playing Dragon Age: Origins some months ago. (The source of each snippet is linked after each point.)

"I would be incredibly surprised if we did see Desire Demons [in future games], but possibly. I saw some updated concept art." [source]

Chat asked "Do you think we are going to be able to spend points on attributes again in DA4 or nah?" and Mark replied "I don't know if they'll do attribute points, I suspect not...?" [source]

Chat asked "Do you think DA4 would be able to read DA:I saves since they're both using Frostbite?" and Mark replied "Oh, it doesn't matter, the reading the save games is nothing to do with Frostbite. The reason why Inquisition uses the Keep instead of save game reading is because of cross-generational stuff, we didn't want people locked to a platform. So I think it's quite possible that DA4 will use the Keep. I don't think they'll do save game reading, because the Keep exists already". Chat followed up, "I wonder if DA:I was made to even create plot flag data at all, what with the Keep already being a cross-game option" and Mark said "DA:I does store plot-flags in their save games, but yes, the intention was always to store them in the Keep, not to mine them out of save games". [source]

Chat asked "Would Oghren be done differently today?" Mark replied, "I do think Oghren would be done differently. He either needs to be more serious, as he's always treating his trauma with alcohol, or he needs to be somehow made more comedic. But I don't know that BioWare would make a character like Oghren again". [source]

They won't drop the name Dragon Age even if they switch in-world ages. Chat asked "DA5 should wrap up the Dragon Age series, and then any new game should be set centuries ahead of the Dragon Age". Mark replied "I mean if you wanted a massive reboot you could set it a long time in the future, have a new Dragon Age, that they've called it that for some reason, but I don't think there's a need for that." [source]

He also talked more generally about DA:O and the franchise in general. These bits are collected under a cut due to length.

One of the reasons why Dragon Age hasn't kept the same protagonist and has moved around the world a lot is because DA:O wasn't originally really intended to have a sequel, so it leaves a lot of dangling things depending on the choices you make (different rulers, many different states for some characters like Alistair, etc) [source]

What happened to Dragon Age Journeys? Facebook gaming died [source]

Game of Thrones was floating around in the studio during the time of the development of Baldur's Gate 2. "I do think it was at least consulted, it was read. What GoT did to fantasy in its moment was sort've show you could have a bit more politics, a bit more human-human conflict" [source]

On a hypothetical DA:O remaster: Tech-wise, there aren't that many people who know how to work with the engine, although it's a relatively simple engine. If they used a different engine it wouldn't be a remaster but a remake. For a remaster, you'd keep the same engine and turn the knobs as far as they could go, which would limit how far you could take it. Chat said "the Aurora [DA:O] engine isn't really being maintained, there's nothing to actually remaster there" and Mark replied "the code exists, it's in EA's repositories, you could get it running, updated DirectX version, remaster all the textures, you could do that" [source]

On this he also said "it's not gonna happen unless they can get the money from EA to do it as an external project and bring in external people, because otherwise you're just taking people from other things. Or unless EA suddenly decides that BioWare can hire 50 people, which seems...". "If you took something like Mass Effect and updated its Unreal version, that would be a massive amount of work just to do that. You don't really get anything for just doing that, particularly. You might be able to have it run at a higher resolution" [source]

The fact that MELE actually did well means that the chance of a remaster for DA is significantly higher than it was before. But EA doesn't like spending money. The devs had been trying to do a ME remaster since shortly after the last gen started, so basically since 2014 [source]

If they ever did a remaster of DA:O you would definitely see an improvement in textures on the consoles, even if you did nothing else, simply by including the "things that already exist" (as the original 360 version had its textures smooshed down from hi-res). DA:I you could make look better just by turning the knobs up further, as most of its stuff is already authored at higher resolutions [source]

Chat asked "'This might be better answered in a video, but what are your thoughts on remakes?''. Mark replied "I think it really depends on the game, some games are very much a product of their moment so they don't, a remake is always gonna fall a little flat. Remaster, you're just kind've re-establishing that. I think you can remaster anything. Remakes, some things should just be allowed to be a product of their time" [source]

Chat asked "Was there ever interest in making games like Diamondback and Wicked Grace playable minigames like Lodestone in Fable or Gwent for example?" There was a design for a dwarven chess game that the devs were thinking about doing for DA:I, "but no, time is time". Mark thinks that they may have had the rules for Wicked Grace at one point but "I don't know that there was ever much desire for it" [source]

The art direction in DAII is much more intentional than it was in DA:O. In DA:O and other fantasy games from that time period, it wasn't very intentional, and was more just 'generic English countryside from a certain time period' [source]

Chat commented about wanting a Dragon Age MMO in future. Mark replied "I don't think you're gonna see a Dragon Age MMO. MMOs are incredibly expensive to create and maintain. It was very interesting to watch Bethesda make an MMO of Elder Scrolls and make pretty much the same statements and mistakes as were made on SW:TOR just years later" [source]

Chat commented about wanting a Dragon Age RTS game in future. Mark replied "You could certainly see, especially like a DA:O RTS, but there aren't as many RTS devs around as there were once upon a time." When chat mentioned that a Mass Effect RTS could succeed, he added "I think if you were gonna do a Mass Effect RTS you'd definitely want space combat to be part of the game" [source]

Chat asked "What DA game would you remake?" Mark replied "I don't know, that's hard to say, some of the older ones are too a product of their time to easily be remade" [source]

Chat asked "How complex was Origins to make in terms of gameplay?" Mark replied, "I'm not sure what you're asking in terms of complexity of gameplay, it's a very long game with a lot of abilities. The underlying rules are not, it's not as intricate in terms of individual bits of balance as something like a shooter, lootershooter or fighting game is. RPGs are more about, sort've piling enough stuff on it so that it kind've gets balanced through volume as opposed to balanced through individual bits of, through the actual core mechanic. Honestly one of the issues with Anthem is that I think that a lot of the people on the team weren't familiar with that style of development, and so the inner most core of that game isn't tuned to the same degree that potentially a shooter company like Bungee would do" [source]

"Lyrium [potions] restore mana, I think. Which we have never explained"

Chat asked "Why are party members auto-levelled to the same level as the party/main character when you get them in Origins? I.e. in Knights of the Old Republic they were always level 6." Mark replied "the reason they're odd levelled is exactly because of KOTOR. If they're not odd levelled, what was happening was a lot of people just never levelled them up, so you ended up taking a character and they were Level 6 and they just died [source]

"The Leliana thing [Leliana coming back in DA:I if she was killed in DA:O], it's pretty weak but an explanation was given. A lot of the other ones are.. not even bothered to be given" [source]

On-screen Leliana had dialogue telling the Chantry's version of the story of how the Golden City became Black and the Magisters released the Taint. "I don't think the Chantry is lying so much as applying an argument on top of something they don't really understand" [source]

(pls note that in places there is a bit of paraphrasing of the info, the best source is always the primary source with full quotes in their original context)

[dame-zoom-a-lot]

CommonSenseNotFoundError

Written for @metalsandwichbingo: prompt B3 - Double Penetration

Rating: EXPLICIT

Word Count : 2.3k

Major Tags: Double Penetration, Spitroasting, Voyeurism, Modern Magic AU, No Upside-down AU

beta: @runraerun Inspired by: thisusernameisunavailable's The Barbarian, the Bard, and the Sorceror Read on A03 or down below. Explicit under the cut Eddie holds his breath as he watches smoke swirl in his orb. It’s getting his prophecies from the ether, now it just has to connect to the prophecy interpreter he built. The smoke is starting to clear. The prophecy is in the orb now. Now it just has to pipe into his tool, and he’ll finally be able to help people read the future in plain, easier-to-understand English. Eddie hunches over the orb, now glowing purple. His desk is messy, cluttered with random guidance scrolls and magic ingredients. He nearly knocks over a vial of his blood as he moves to clutch the orb, as if squeezing it would make the calculations go any faster.

The orb glows red. The last thing it shows before fading back to black is ‘No permission to view the prophecy’.

Eddie screams into his hands. He used his blood to give the divination supplementary guide library permission to read his oracles. This was supposed to work. He’s been at this for hours and he’s one more stupid, nonsensical error message away from throwing this stupid orb against the wall.

Something makes a light thump and squeaking sound in the spell repository upstairs and Eddie jumps. He tries to shift focus back on his divination spell. The individual pieces aren’t hard to work with, but he’s still having trouble getting the auto-explainer to actually access the stupid prophecies. He really doesn’t want to show up to tomorrow’s sync meeting empty handed.

There’s another thunk , and what Eddie’s pretty sure is a small whimper of pain.

Eddie glowers at the ceiling. Stupid sexy Harrington. He’s the reason Eddie’s alone in the office during witching hour. If that stupid, talented asshole hadn’t come up with his self-guarding enchanted scrolls, Eddie would have been able to leave guarding the repository up to the squad of wyrm riders the company used to have on site 24/7. Now he ’s going to have to go up there to free whatever poor schmuck decided to steal the company secrets. As if there was anything up there worth stealing. It was all just poorly cobbled together runes that worked just well enough to not accidentally turn someone inside out. Why couldn’t Harrington consider that Eddie is always the last to leave, way late because he can’t figure out the art of waking up before noon?

Eddie sighs and contemplates letting the intruder stay up there until morning. But, no one deserves to literally die by a thousand paper cuts. He grabs his employee stone and trudges upstairs, telling himself that he’ll be safe. He saw those books in action. Logically, he should be more worried for the thief. Assuming that the scrolls wouldn’t think that he’s also an intruder that is.

Eddie climbs up the ladder to the repositories. He hears that whimper again when he has just two rungs to go.

“Billy…” the person whines. The voice is strangely familiar.

“Stop pulling away ,” a low voice grunts. The floors squeak again. There’s a sound of feet thumping on the floor then a slap of skin on skin.

“But my neck hurts,” the whiner replies, high and breathy and beautiful. Eddie really should head back down, go home, and pretend he saw nothing or the next office pizza party is going to get real awkward. But he goes up one more rung instead.

“Well, try tilting your head back then,” the low voice growls again. There’s a loud clap of hands on skin.

Eddie finishes climbing into the repository and sneaks his way towards the voices like he’s in a trance. He scrambles to think of excuses in case he gets caught. Maybe they’re fucking by some documentation on how to handle read permissions for prophecies. Besides, he’s like, dedicated to magic. Maybe he doesn’t even remember what sex sounds like, so he thought they were just… exercising or something, in the repositories, past midnight.

They’re going to know. That he’s just a nosy, horny little shit who had to see.

They finally come into view, two men fucking doggy-style in a cleared out section of the repository. Eddie clamps his hand over his mouth to stifle his moan. He can see them from the back. A blond man is on his knees, fucking into another man who’s on all fours. Eddie can see the man’s ass bouncing as he gets fucked. It’s so thick and defined that Eddie’s fingers involuntarily twitch with the desire to touch . The blond man looks like someone who can move boulders. His back muscles ripple as he pounds into his partner. The blond is leaning over, trying to fishhook his fingers into his bottom’s mouth, but the angle is all wrong. Eddie creeps to get a closer view, preferably from the side, and accidentally steps on one of their belts. It clinks. Both men whip their heads around.

The bottom is Steve Harrington.

“Oh, errr… fancy seeing you here! I see you’re also burning the midnight oil. I was err… just about to head home,” Eddie squeaks. “And uh, new guy right? Welcome to the family! Happy to answer any questions you might have. Anyway. I should… uhmm…” Eddie looks around desperately for a plausible excuse. He grabs a random scroll by the belt he’d just stepped on. “Ah! Great! Found what I was looking for. Good night fellas,” he does an awkward, terrible wave and walks away backwards.

“What do you want with my training notes?” The blond man asks, cock still deep in Harrington. He’s smirking. His bright blue eyes glint even in the dim light of the repository. He starts moving in and out, stroking Harrington’s back. His perfect, red tongue darts out across his lips.

“Oh, shit, sorry. I didn’t—” Eddie drops the scroll like it’s on fire , eyes still on the pair. The blond strokes Harrington’s cock, who whines and pushes his ass deeper into the blond. Eddie stares at the thick curve of Harrington’s ass as it bounces against the stranger’s abs, stares at the veins on the blond man's forearms as he roughly tugs Harrington’s shaft. Eddie stops himself from cupping his own crotch to relieve some of the tension, but he’s pretty sure they can see the tent in his trousers.

“Like what you see?” The blond asks with a sharp slap to Harrington’s ass. “Eddie Munson, right?”

“Billy!” Steve squawks.

“You know my name?” Eddie asks, stepping towards the two like he’s under a trance, which, speaking of… is this because of the books? Is he hallucinating right now as millions of sharp paper edges shred him into pieces?

“’Course. Pretty boy here wouldn’t shut up about you. ‘Eddie transformed a rat into a unicorn back into a rat. Eddie figured out why we kept accidentally turning people into newts. Do you think Eddie knows my work? When will Eddie ever notice me?’” The blond, apparently Billy, says in a high falsetto, batting his lashes. Eddie feels flames on his face. Steve’s entire body is bright red. “Look,” Billy continues. “You can just walk away. I’m not going to chase you. Or…”

“Or?” Eddie asks, licking his lips.

“You could help us out. Fill this pretty mouth. Hard to get both holes from this angle.”

“What?”

“I need you to stick your dick in his mouth,” Billy says slowly, rolling his eyes. “You need a demonstration?”

Eddie pauses, frozen under Billy’s cocky gaze. Steve looks at him shyly, as if he’s afraid of rejection. Seeing Steve’s mix of hope and nervousness gives Eddie the courage he needs to step forward. He watches his feet move, one in front of the other, until he’s standing in front of Steve’s flushed face. He kneels and raises a shaking hand to Steve’s jawline. Steve closes his eyes and leans into his palm, long lashes casting a feathery shadow over his flushed cheeks. Fuck. Eddie clenches his thighs.

“That what you want? Steve?” Eddie asks.

“Please,” Steve whines.

Eddie hesitates. With Steve’s eyes closed, he’s not sure he’s not in trance, or drugged the old-fashioned way. Steve frowns at the slight stutter of Eddie’s palm and opens his eyes, clear, lucid, steely. “Please,” Steve says again, sounding more like the Harrington Eddie knows from work.

“You heard the man,” Billy says from behind.

Eddie scrambles up and pulls his trousers off. He almost cums at the relief of letting his hard cock get some air. Eddie gasps when Steve reaches out a hand to grab him by the balls, dragging him towards his mouth. Steve’s mouth finds his dick, then starts to sink down, slowly at first, then suddenly all at once. Eddie makes a mortifying choked sound when his cock hits the back of Steve’s warm, wet throat. Steve moans appreciatively, and the vibrations of his mouth somehow makes Eddie even harder. He didn’t think that was possible .

“Fuck his throat. He likes that,” Billy says, thrusting hard enough from the back to move Steve back and forth on Eddie’s dick. Steve nods vigorously, drool pooling around the side of his mouth.

“Ah, ahh… so you, ok, so you and I thrust at the, ah, the same time, get him feeling nice and, oh god yes, just like that, full top and bottom, and we pull out in sync, fuuckk, Steve you’re gonna make me finish, ah, give him a little break?” Eddie babbles as Steve attempts to suck his brains out through his dick (and has very possibly succeeded). He puts a hand on Steve’s hair. Gods, it’s even softer than Eddie imagined. And he’d imagined a lot , to an embarrassing, potentially HR-summoning degree.

Billy grins. “You get it,” he says with an approving nod. “My boy here’s got good taste.”

Eddie’s stomach flips at the praise. He hopes he doesn’t sound as shaky as he feels. “Ok, on count of three…”

Steve’s lips and mouth spasm in what seems to be a choked giggle. Billy rolls his eyes, hopefully affectionately. “Sure, dork . We can time it.”

Eddie flips them both off and Billy laughs. “One, two… three!” Eddie thrusts into Steve’s throat as Billy thrusts from behind. Steve scream-groans as he’s momentarily squished between the two. “Again?” Eddie checks, stroking Steve’s hair. He nods so hard his hair bounces.

“Ok, one… two… three!” Another thrust. After a few more, Eddie and Billy find their rhythm without needing to verbally count. At some point, Billy started staring at Eddie as if he wants to memorize his face. Eddie realizes that he must have been staring too, and can you blame him? It’s a perfect face, tanned with bright blue eyes that soften occasionally. His blond curls swing back and forth, framing strikingly dark eyebrows that scrunch a little as Billy gets closer to climax. Steve makes all these noises under them, soft and pliant. Eddie plays with Steve’s nipples and scratches patterns into Steve’s back, relishing in the soft skin and muscles under his nails. Eddie watches Billy’s hands—his fingers are shorter, more utilitarian than he’d expected—gently cup and play with Steve’s dick and balls.

Steve cums first with a choked whine. Billy surges across Steve, kind of folding him in half, to crash his lips on Eddie’s. In his haze, Eddie wonders whether Billy didn’t want Eddie to see his orgasm face. But the feeling of Billy’s lips open in a little ‘o’ against his, the ragged pant of his breath is probably more revealing than Billy ever intended. Eddie orgasms so hard he feels tears on the edge of his eyes. Eddie strokes Billy’s face and mourns the loss of their closeness when they both pull out of Steve. Eddie resists the urge to flop on top of Steve and rub his face along the strong back and sniff up the scent Billy might have left behind. Billy totters over to a pile of clothes and pulls out two towels. He lays one on the floor then rolls Steve on top of it with surprising gentleness.

“Can I help?” Eddie asks. He knows this is probably his cue to leave. It’s not his place to help clean Steve up, to bring him gently back down to Earth from wherever he’d gone to. But he feels stupidly brave tonight—like anything’s possible.

“You want him to stick around Harrington? I’m fine either way,” Billy says with a shrug.

“Please stay,” Steve says quietly. Eddie takes his shirt off and uses that to gently wipe down Steve’s torso. Steve hums adorably, and somehow that sound is even better than his warm mouth around Eddie’s cock.

“Nice of you to not jizz, dong, ditch,” Billy says, wiping down Steve’s lower half with the second towel. “Unless you’re just gathering Harrington’s jizz on your shirt for spells or something?”

“No!” Eddie sputters. “Damn, man, I didn’t exactly get the heads up to prepare for this!” Steve giggles and strokes Eddie’s nose. Eddie blushes and continues wiping, making sure that he gets to touch every inch of Steve that he can. He might not get another chance and he’s not about to miss this chance. Eddie looks up at Billy, who’s been staring (what’s new) with a fond smile. “Err… thanks for letting me join. I… that was nice.”

“Yeah, it was,” Steve says as he sits up. He yanks Billy and Eddie into himself on either side. Eddie squeaks. Steve is much stronger than he’d expected. Billy laughs and lets himself get pulled in.

“So, it’s Billy, right??” Eddie asks, suddenly feeling a lot more optimistic that this might turn into an ongoing thing. And if it would be… no harm in getting to know this beautiful co-worker right? “What department are you with?”

“Ugh, as if I’d ever work at this dump.”

“What? So  you don’t have a stone? But the alarms!” Eddie squawks, whipping his head around in panic as he watches for a cloud of sharp-toothed scrolls.

Steve grins and puts a finger over Eddie’s lips, “Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, you think I wouldn’t have carved out a backdoor?”

Eddie stares at Steve, who apparently invented a new, absolutely vicious way of guarding the repository all so he could get his dick wet on company time and property. Steve winks, and Eddie thinks he might fall in love.

[sebastianswallows]

The English Client — Twenty-five

— PAIRING: Tom Riddle x F!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: The year is 1952. Tom is working for Borgin and Burkes. He is sent to Rome to acquire three ancient books of magic by any means necessary. One in particular proves challenging to reach, and the only path forward is through a pretty, young bookseller. A foreigner like him, she lives alone, obsessed with her work... until Tom comes into her life.

— WARNINGS: none, just more Paris shenanigans

— WORDCOUNT: 3.6k

— TAGLIST: @esolean @localravenclaw @slytherins-heir

I

After a filling dinner of duck confit and coq au vin — the name of which made her giggle until her eyes teared up — they returned to the hotel at nearly midnight. They undressed together, washed themselves together, and fell asleep in one another’s arms. Perhaps it was all the walking they had done, thighs throbbing and feet sore, but the bed felt so soft that they melted into it.

They woke up a few times throughout the night. Tom could tell she’d done so when he awoke to find her arms around his waist, or her face nuzzled in his neck, her breath and body warming up his blood. Each time, she found a way to nestle a little closer to him and Tom could only pull her in, burrowing himself into her body like a fox inside its wintry hole, sucking her life energy through every pore of skin like some sort of vampire. He nearly laughed at the thought — or maybe it was a dream — that he had taken that aspect of Oso’s role now, while she took over his work responsibilities. But oh he hoped the fiend had never fed on her… She seemed to know nothing of his true nature nor had he ever seen bite marks on the multiple occasions he’d had to explore her body, but he held her tightly all the same, murderously possessive.

Tom got up before her when the morning came. He rolled out of bed only to turn the radiator higher. He’d slept with his socks on too, to spare her his cold skin when she turned cuddly.

After a brief look out the window at the sprawling and pink view of the city he went to the suitcase at the foot of the bed and started searching through it, keeping as quiet as he could while he looked for his diary. It was a far cry from his first one. No fine leather, no embossing of his name, and not a repository for his soul either. But it was good enough to write his thoughts in and, like the last one, enchanted to hide the text right afterwards. Also like the last one it was purchased from a muggle shop. This one was bought in Rome and had that fancy Italian paper he’d always heard about. At least it scratched less than the parchment he was used to…

He sat in a chair by the window, fished out the pen from his jacket’s inner pocket, and balanced the diary on his knee.

“Montmartre statue,” he wrote, and immediately the page was filled with rows of text, each marked with a date. The very first one had what he needed: directions to the Place Cachée, where he could buy the items for the next part of his plan. The only question that remained was when to slip away…

II

The day was reserved for the arts once again. They went to the Louvre first thing in the morning and picked up where they left off before heading to the Catacombs — at Cavona’s Cupid and Psyche. They walked around it, looking at it from every angle before coming back around, forever ignored by the embracing lovers of stone.

“Does it feel to you too like we’re intruding?” she asked. “Like we shouldn’t see this?”

“Yes,” said Tom with a light grin, “but that is rather the point, I think.”

She chuckled. “To make it seem so real that it makes you feel like a voyeur?”

He wrapped an arm around her waist and leaned in to whisper in her ear. “You know, from this angle, she looks a little bit like you.”

“And you know he looks a bit like you, especially when your hair gets curly after you’ve had a bath.”

“Is that so?”

“Minus the wings, of course.”

“Never did like flying…”

“Yes, I hate aeroplanes too.”

The faint blemishes on the statues, yellow shadows brought by age, seemed to make their flesh alive, and the marks of chisels were scars and stretches left on their fair skin. More than once her eyes lingered on the jar behind Psyche, waiting for it to roll to the side and fall.

“What do you think it was? That essence of beauty she was supposed to steal from Persephone,” she asked.

Tom thought about it as he held her close. He could name several magical concoctions but none that were worthy of a goddess.

“Perhaps the moral of the story is that the essence of beauty is secrecy itself.”

She nodded and rested her head against his shoulder.

“What do you think it was?” he asked.

“Oh, that’s obvious. Beauty sleep.”

Tom laughed. In the story, Psyche fell into a deep sleep as soon as she opened the box, so the idea had merit.

Once they had their fill of the Louvre they crossed the street, took a left, and found themselves at the Librairie Delamain. Taller than it looked from the outside, it was all dark wood and sombre, a labyrinth of white fangs peeking out of every corner, books and books and books. It smelled dry and leathery inside with faint traces of salt and cinnamon. They held hands to not get lost, occasionally pulling and tugging on each other when they found something they liked.

The largest section was Romance and Erotica, dominating the whole first five rows as soon as they stepped inside. She leafed with bated breath through a 1904 edition of the 120 Days of Sodom while Tom huddled close to read over her shoulder. He giggled at the most inappropriate of illustrations. She kicked him in the ribs. He bought her a first edition of Cazotte’s Le Diable Amoureux to apologise which she held in her hands and gawked at as if it were made of gold while Tom discretely released the shopkeeper from under the Imperio spell.

“You know what, best put it in your bag,” he whispered as he pulled her away, “before he realises what a steal it is and charges us a bit more for it.”

“Oh it’s alright, I could pay the extra —”

“No,” he hissed, “you couldn’t.”

The next stop was the Religion and Esoterics section. They browsed it with an eye to compare it to Casa Ur, but the selection was less rich than what they had in Rome. Truly rare volumes, few in number, sat beside the most innocuous books and most authors they could recognise were still alive or not long dead. They even found a couple of the Baron’s published works on Eastern meditation and Western magic rites. Nearby were also critiques by other authors, which amused the both of them, but it was all a very civil dialogue between the books.

“Should we buy one for him?” she asked, leafing through a copy.

“It depends on whether you wish to cause blatant offence or not.”

“Well, at this point, he needs me more than I need him.”

Tom regarded her with a smirk as she stood to his right with her head bowed, her attention on the book split open in her hand. She had sounded just then peculiarly indifferent to her work… But he didn’t dare to hope that she would abandon it after all, as he’d requested. That dream was already forgotten.

So they wandered through those shelves of things both old and new, from Cornelius Agrippa’s Three Books on Occult Philosophy all through to Johann Weyer’s Pseudomonarchia Daemonum, with a stop at Waite and Pamela Colman Smith’s Pictorial Key to the Tarot.

“I’ve never liked Divination,” grumbled Tom. “Bunch of abstract twaddle.”

“You sound like me complaining about algebra in school,” she chuckled. “How can you not like this? Look, these illustrations are beautiful…”

“I said nothing of the artistic merits. Colman Smith created a perfectly adequate version of the tarot. Certainly more useful than the Marseilles deck. The symbolism is… pertinent.”

She leaned her head back against his chest as she slowly flipped from page to page.

“Which card do you mostly identify with?” she asked.

“That’s not how it works.”

“I know. Tell me anyway.”

He sighed, the motion moving her chest also, and placed his right hand on the book. In its middle section, it dedicated a page to each card of the Tarot beginning with the major arcana and provided interpretations of their meaning. Above the text were the famous accompanying illustrations. Tom took hold of the book and went to the first card: the Magician. Would that serve as a confession? Would she read too much into it? Truth be told the more she would the further from the naked truth she’d be, but the idea of claiming that card nevertheless amused him. But no, he was no Apollonian figure surrounded by roses and lilies… He flipped a few more pages, past the Emperor, the Chariot, the Hermit, before finally settling on the 13th card: Death. She hummed thoughtfully and nodded, holding the other side of the book.

“On the surface, terror, but in truth it is transformation.”

“An enchanted rebirth,” he whispered, his lips brushing her cheek.

“Do you want to know which one I see you as?” she giggled.

“Tell me.”

She went three pages forward to something he did not expect. The Sun.

“Shining brightly, am I? Are you sure you know me at all?”

“It’s not the colours. But it reminds me of you… The calm face of the sun and the carelessness of the free child, together. Look.”

“So I seem careless to you?”

“You do,” she said, leaning her head back to look at him. Seeing him from upside down his frown turned into a smile. “Only a careless person would spontaneously get a job in a foreign country, in an underground book shop, and rent in a bad neighbourhood, and —”

“Alright,” he sighed. “I can see how I might seem that way to you.”

She hummed in approval. “Now, do you want to know what I think I am?”

“Yes, I must see this.”

He expected something grand. The High Priestess, the Star, the Lovers even, but she stopped the page on —

“The Tower?”

She leaned back, cradled in his arms, holding the book alongside him, and gazed wanly at the page.

“Something about it calls to me… The finger pointing at the sky, a vanity like the Tower of Babel, trying to touch heaven through hard work… only to be crushed.”

He nodded. He could see in it her frustrations at the life she had been thrust into and the nothing that became of her, a stranger among strangers, labouring diligently to build something for others, always for others… It might have been his fate as well at Borgin and Burke’s had he not a clear plan to end it on his own terms. But that was still far away. And now he was here, with her. They shared so many of their troubles, more than she even realised, and so many interests and skills — not least of which the stomach to suffer a murder. And pleasures too, though he was loathe to say it. She was like him, or perhaps he was like her… And the thought suddenly struck him, like that bolt of lightning that was on the page, that she was worthy of his love. He wanted to kiss her, so he did, leaning forward and pressing his lips to the top of her head.

“Do you want to know which one I think you are?” he asked.

“Of course.”

He turned to the very end of the chapter at the last of the major arcana. There awaited the Fool.

“Tom!” she huffed.

He laughed, giggling in a way he didn’t often do. She elbowed him in the chest and in her struggle to get away from his embrace she missed the arcana that was on the other page, right next to the one that had offended her: the World.

III

Tom buttoned up his vest at a slow and pensive pace, his tie still hanging loosely around his neck. The floorboards winced as he stepped from one side of the room to the other. Around them, the hotel was slowly coming to life with steps and murmurs echoing their way from down the corridor, but it still didn’t wake his travelling companion. And nothing would. He sighed and sat down on his bed to lace his shoes, then finished by putting on his jacket, his green scarf and his coat, and wrapping himself up for the fresh chill of the morning. He leaned over her form as she lay motionless and curled up on the bed, and had the thought of touching her, but quickly decided against it. He turned and left, closing the door and hanging a “Do not disturb” sign on it.

There was quite a way to go from the hotel to Montmartre so, against his personal distaste, he asked the desk clerk to call him a cab.

“Rue Girardon, s'il vous plaît.”

It didn’t take him long to find the statue once he was there. Tall and tucked between old buildings, its blue bronze face watched over the surrounding muggles. As Tom gradually approached, she moved. Her noble face remained impassive but she obligingly tilted her leg aside and pulled the folds of her metallic dress away for him. He stepped through the pillar and found himself in the festive and arching streets of the Place Cachée.

IV

His first stop was at Le Corbeau Mystique. He wound his way through the cages and crates and placards of advertisements until he reached the feather-laden cashier’s desk. The old witch there, dressed in a screaming fuchsia gown with a chain of fake black pearls around her neck and a mouse nestled in her hair, was quite happy to see him — until he told her what he wanted.

“Oh, no no no, we do not provide mailing services. Would you like to buy an owl instead?”

“I have no place to keep a pet,” he grumbled. It was times like these that he regretted having sold his old owl from Hogwarts, black and ruffled Morgana. Then again she was impossibly loud and it would’ve been a hassle to bring her on his travels.

“Perhaps you can try l’hôtel de Ginestou.”

The hotel was a more impressive building cut in smooth yellow rock. With its heavy metal door and carved pediments it looked quite like a tomb, so he was surprised to step inside and find it pretty welcoming. Young witches and wizards congregated in the lobby, mostly students on a field trip from what he overheard. Gentle light filled the room like a fog of star shine. There was something so alluringly spectacular about the ambience of the place that he almost felt subdued by it.

He went to the front desk and rang the bell. Its crystal chime didn’t carry far but a clerk soon appeared from behind a blue curtain.

“Bonjour, monsieur!” said the boy enthusiastically. His thin pale hands went right to the quill and register.

“I haven’t got a reservation,” said Tom. “Do you offer owl services?”

“Do you mean if we take pets? That is —”

“No. I wish to send a letter.”

“Ah, of course,” said the boy with a thin smile.

Tom took out the folded note from his pocket and pulled toward him a piece of parchment, then wrote the address down and pushed them both back to the boy. He was just getting his wallet ready to pay for the expense when the clerk’s face soured.

“I am sorry, but we only make delivery in France.”

Tom clenched his teeth and yanked the letter out of his hands.

“Any idea where I can get a letter sent to England from this circus of a street?”

“You can try le Griffon Buveur,” said the boy in a trembling tone.

Tom guessed from the name that it was a pub of some sort. He found it quickly enough by going to the most rowdy and busy section of the street. It had something oddly noble in its outward display, with wine-red walls cut with the holden silhouettes of its namesake — a griffon. He checked the time as he stepped through and wove his way between the tables plumped around with people. It was already half past ten and he hadn’t resolved even half of what he needed to. If only Parisian wizards weren’t so restrictive with their services he might have found someone to deliver this one measly letter already and be on his way back to his hotel before it was too late.

With much doubt and hopelessness, he went right up to the bar.

“Bonjour,” he said, not even bothering to hide his accent. “Do you deliver letters?”

“Yes,” said the barkeep, a stately woman with a strong beak of a nose and hair that was half silver.

“Abroad?”

“Yes, we do. What do you need, sir?”

He gave her the letter and instructions as to the address and was pleased to learn their owls were well familiar with Diagon Alley.

“And Knockturn Alley too?”

“Of course,” the woman said, her smile pulling softly at the wrinkles on her cheeks. “I will send it with Albert, an eagle owl. He is our best.”

She took his letter and the meagre payment for it and Tom was so happy that he ordered himself a glass of wine. It served as the only breakfast he’d have that day.

V

He checked the time on his worn old wristwatch as he slid through the shoppers in the Place Cachée. As it got closer to noon, there were more people about. And unlike the British wizardry, the French were not skimpy on ornamentation, with a sea of capes and flowing robes, dresses, and scarves, all clouded by large elegant hats. Tom had to crane his neck to see the shop names above. Eventually, he found what he was looking for: Dr. Aziz Branchiflore. He might have detected it by scent alone. The storefront was bubbling with dried herbs, encrusted shells and seeds, shrivelled mushrooms and ram horns. Tom tiptoed around the bulbous jars that completed the scene and stepped inside. There were several more shoppers around so he busied himself checking the displays, from bottled muck to piles of pearl powder and chains of fairy wings. Step by step he approached the counter, obliquely, and waited until the others had made their purchases and left.

“May I help you?” asked an elderly wizard with bushy silver brows who he could only assume was Mr. Branchiflore.

“Yes, as a matter of fact,” said Tom, standing primly with his back straight and his chin thrust forward. “I was wondering if you sell Polyjuice potion.”

“We do indeed. It is costly, of course. Very costly. And we will have to register the purchase.”

“Register?”

“For the Ministry. We keep an account of every purchase of dangerous potions.”

Tom knew that was the French Ministry of Magic he meant, not the Italian or British. And they were not in communication with one another…

“That’s quite alright,” he said with a charming smile. “Where do I sign?”

He ended up buying a potion due to last for twenty minutes which he assured Mr. Branchiflore was for a practical joke. It was small enough to fit inside his pocket and came in a bottle of the sturdiest dragon horn. He thanked the old wizard as he parted with the last of his galleons.

VI

It was lunchtime when Tom was done with his shopping. That wouldn’t be the first nor the last time he’d skipped a meal. He caught the nearest cab once he was out on the muggle streets again and hurried back to the hotel. He knew what he would find inside their room but he stepped in silently anyway. Light poured in from the window to the east, warming the air pleasantly. He put his coat away and made sure to hide the potion in his suitcase before he turned to the bed. She was sleeping soundly, laying on her tummy and hugging the pillow tight.

“Wake up,” he whispered as he ran a finger down her back.

And right away, she took a deep breath in and stretched.

“Mmm… Tom?”

“I’m here.”

She could barely peek an eye open before she was blinded by the light.

“What time is it?”

“Half past twelve.”

“What?!”

“I didn’t want to wake you, but —”

“How come I slept so long?!” she cried, raising herself to a sitting position and reaching for her wristwatch on the bedside table.

“You must’ve been worn out. All that walking,” he chuckled.

“Goodness, I’m starving,” she moaned, then turned her bleary eyes toward him, taking in his clothes. “What’ve you been doing?”

“I woke up rather late too, at around ten,” he lied. “Had a long breakfast here then went downstairs for a cup of tea. I’ll order you some room service, alright?”

“Yes, please,” she whined, hopping out of bed and making for the bathroom.

Tom already had one hand on the phone and ordered her a rich lunch with dessert and coffee and a cup of risotto for himself so that they could eat together. He had a more elaborate plan for their evening which should have served as a tacit apology for him using Imperio on her to make sure she slept until he got back that afternoon — not that she would know what he’d be apologising for.

[rametarin]

Alright, children. Gather 'round.

Enough time has passed that normies and new people (read: people that haven't been terminally online for 10-15 years) may not be familiar with the furry community and the Krystal Can't Enjoy her Sandwich debacle. So, I thought I'd bring joy and explain it.

So once upon a time, we had an art repository site named FurAffinity, which had its own rules regarding furry art and backgrounds. An artist, they drew a background and uploaded it, but then it got moderated and rejected for not being anthropomorphic ("furry.") It didn't meet the criteria for postable content to FurAffinity.

So, the artist drew a picture of Krystal from Starfox enjoying a sandwich in the background, and re-uploaded it.

It was seen as an insult and removed again.

Well, word got around and suddenly hundreds of people were uploading art mocking this phenomenon. Krystal enjoying sandwiches in the backgrounds of many pieces. OCs enjoying sandwiches in a Your Character Here format. Animations, of blue space foxes eating sandwiches in fields.

One madlad even drew an anthropomorphic sandwich eating Krystal the Fox.

But eventually, Krystal could enjoy her sandwich. The mods renegged and realized maybe it was better not to iceskate up this hill and just. let landscapes and things be posted.

It's important to remember history, else be doomed to repeat it.