#but you can still mix it up sometimes

[catwouthats]

I need to see people start to use any pronouns for Gabriel just as they do with Aziraphale and Crowley.

Cmon guys, I know she’s a bitch, bUT HE STILL DOESNT GENDER

[imaybe5tupid]

Why bother? (Why bother?) It's gonna hurt me. (It's gonna hurt me.) It's gonna kill when- (Why bother!) -You desert me! (Gonna hurt me!)

Set after Nightmare. Laios is reminiscing and contemplating.

[thatoneweirdo14]

this isn't a revelation or anything but i just wanna say as a person with extremely shit vision, meaning that objects too far away are literally just blobs without my glasses, people with terrible eyesight can still recognise people/objects from far away as long as they are familiar enough. The same way you can recognise a close friend or smth from the back of their head. Like if my sister was standing halfway across the street she'd look like a brown blob but id still be able to tell it was her even if she was surrounded by a dozen other brown blobs of people.

I like to think that in the same way, at the end of his performance when he's looking directly at Victor, even though Yuuri can't see shit without his glasses and Victor is surrounded by a million other people, he can still pinpoint exactly where Victor is because he's such a familiar person, the only blob Yuuri can fully tell apart. He is Yuuri's blob.

[spotaus]

New Age AU (Obtaining Killer)

Hey guys! Through with a bot of stuff for the day and I have a sneaking suspicion that this stress headache will not leave me until I finish some projects for work, so I *may* be m.i.a. for a hot second until they stop.

In the meantime, I want to drop this! (Unedited, unrefined, raw off the slab style)

Andddd @ancha-aus and @papiliovolens ! Hello! (Mutzelputz if u see this, the tags weren't working for some reason, I apologize.)

Hope y'all enjoy!

Ccino had convinced him to leave the castle. After nearly a year had passed since his last true public appearance. Since he'd stolen the apple from his brother. Nine months had passed since he'd sent Dream away. He tried not to think about it.

Nightmare had been finding out a lot about his magic. How it made him jittery, and how he felt like he understood so much more. How it made him deeply paranoid, quick to react.

How it made people listen to him.

He figured it was because he was scary now. The negative magic condensed over every inch of his bone wasn't exactly appealing, and the extra limbs which had sprouted from his spine now acted like his own personal weapons. If someone didn't listen, didn't give him an answer he liked, the limbs moved without him even thinking.

It had taken time to learn to better control them. Even now, they writhed in his wake. His nerves expressed through their lashing and twitching as they hovered just above the ground.

The streets weren't exactly crowded.

Upon word of the King's arrival to this small providence, Nightmare had found that many people fled from his path. His travel party of several soldiers, and himself on horseback. He'd always wanted to ride horses. The traitor twin was someone that every citizen wished to avoid.

Ccino had coaxed him outside with promises of fresh air. Apparently there were promising young members of the city guard that Ccino swore would be wonderful future knights. Young warriors for him to bring up loyally under his name, no fear of betrayal.

It had made sense, at the time, but Nightmare hadn't chosen to recruit any of them.

It wasn't to say he didn't want to. Several of the humans and monsters were very talented, and he did his best to give them praise, but he could tell. None of them wanted to work under him. They didn't like him. Rejection and hatred that had pierced him immediately, he could practically taste it.

Ultimately, they would do better here in their hometown. A place they were passionate about protecting, and with people they cared for. Night would not try to mold promising soldiers into his perfect guard. No matter how smart of an idea it may have been.

And so he'd moved on.

Night had visited several smaller shops, onces which couldn't afford to refuse him, and he bought some fabrics, a trinket, some small thing from each place he stopped by. He payed exactly the price he needed for each thing. He wouldn't bribe his people, either. The best he could do would be to remain neutral.

He did discover, against all odds, that he was enjoying this day out. Ccino was, in fact, usually correct about this sort of thing.

The travel had been enriching. Almost exciting. He'd never gotten out of the castle much at all, this was all new and excitingly mundane.

Good things do not last forever.

It was almost sunset when he noticed it. Torches being set up, a platform prepared. A crowd gathering.

An execution, came the mutter from one of his soldiers. Though he recognized the set-up, Night had never been in attendance to an execution. He was morbidly curious. The crowd held such a contempt. A broiling hunger for blood.

He wished he'd wheeled his horse away when a few people were ushered out of a nearby building.

The prison, maybe?

There weren't many of them. Nightmare dismounted his steed, and much to the dismay of the soldiers at his side, he found himself sinking. Into the growing shadows cast by the dying sun.

He re-emerged beside the stage, where the few people were lined up. Ready for death by hanging.

That trick wasn't one that Nightmare quite understood yet, but he was always drawn to feelings of intense negativity. He knew that, now. Something about these prisoners were bothering him, even at a distance, and he found himself more curious as he stood before them.

His guards, at the back of the crowd, hadn't seemed to figure out where he had gone. He had the time, now, to loom over the small group of prisoners.

The city guards, the trained ones, had likely seen him earlier at their headquarters. They did not speak even a word against him as he stared.

Nightmare stared at these faces.

A dog monster, scrappy and scarred, black fur clashing against a few patches of white. One of her ears was missing.

A pair of humans, both men, one with long, curly red hair and another with short-cropped red hair and the beginnings of a beard. Maybe they were brothers?

A skeleton. His sockets dripped with black magic, and his soul was a piercing crimson, just infront of his chest.

A flame monster, small and stout. Their flames a flickering green and purple. One of their eyes had a patch over it.

Nightmare was not great at determining emotions yet. He was hardly versed in his own feelings, but there had been improvement recently. Understanding new emotions had been coming more naturally to him.

Sometimes it hurt, but he was learning.

Now, past the blossoms of a headache, he felt a bit baffled as he subconsciously picked through the negativity these monsters exuded. Their fear. Their pain. Their loss, and their anger.

Oh.

"Only one of you is guilty."

He'd said it without thinking, practically announcing it with a voice that still felt unnaturally deep. A voice which rattled his ribcage and seemed to force past the barrier of darkness around him.

The group before him seemed startled. Confused.

Well, all but the skeleton, who seemed to only raise his skull slightly. As though just noticing Nightmare was there.

"How could you have possibly been jailed in the first place?" He muttered a bit quieter to himself.

He knew, deep down, that there were many, many rules in place for situations like this. Laws which he could challenge. People he could speak to. He could appoint members of his court to each of these people and try to earn their innocence through the rites of the law.

Then again, he remembered the rage of the crowd. The frustration of the people waiting to see these killings take place.

He didn't know what to do.

Now the prisoners, especially the two humans, were staring at him hopefully. He'd managed to shatter the negativity a bit. He believed them. He knew this was wrong.

"I don't know..."

The mutter came again unprompted.

These people would not have the means to repay him for his help. He couldn't just waive fees, or risk his court turning against him. He couldn't afford enemies being made so close to his inner circle.

He couldn't just leave them, though. Not after he'd seen the injustice of it all.

Stuck in his own thoughts, he was drawn out of it by a snickering laugh.

"Just set them free." A voice followed, "You are our King, aren't you?"

Nightmare then found his eyes drawn to the skeleton.

The others had eased themselves away from him. He stood, now, almost alone. He seemed unbothered by speaking up, his sockets held in an almost lazy posture. Tension going completely un-held.

He grinned up as the King, and seemed to watch contentedly as the thought settled in Nightmare's skull.

He could do that. Simply waive their charges. Pardon them. He could do that, surely. Many royals had done it before him for less certain terms. His mother had plenty of times.

"And you are guilty. You'll still be hanged. You know this, don't you?" Nightmare asked.

That was when the Skeleton's lazy sockets seemed to tighten with a sort of glee. Some hidden joke Nightmare wasn't privy to.

"Hmm." This was a poor choice. This was a bad decision. "Tell me, quickly, how you came to be here. Before I proceed?"

Nightmare didn't know why he was asking. He was... curious. Just like he had always been.

Very few people would ever speak straight to his face. Ccino, that was the only one who'd done it since his change. Since the prophecy. This skeleton had done it. He'd spoken when no one else could muster even a plea.

The silence he seemed to bring to every room. Broken, just briefly.

The skeleton stared at him a moment.

"Name's Killer, your majesty." The tone was mocking. "A while back a buddy of mine got into hot water, and I decided to help them out. Now, plenty of bodies later, I'm the one stuck on death row."

Simple. An admission of guilt.

Nightmare stared at him some more.

Finally, it seemed his frantic guards had noticed him. Found him. They rushed to his side, though not as fast as he would've liked. He could feel the frustration seeping from each armored body around him.

"You don't have an aversion to it," Nightmare voiced, "Killing, I mean."

Killer nodded. Unashamed.

It felt strangely calm, still. Perhaps it was because the crowd was still chattering. They likely hadn't noticed Nightmare at all.

The king turned to the city guard, still stood on the steps. "Free these four people. My judgement decrees them as not-guilty."

And, before any time could pass in the slightest. "Killer, I would like you to accompany me, before you abscond."

He'd noticed it. Killer had undone his cuffs before their conversation. Completely freeing himself from his weak imprisonment.

Killer seemed amused at the concept of sticking around to chat.

"If you would, I would like to recruit your services at my castle. I need a man who is willing to kill. And kill swiftly." Ccino said to establish an image. It was obvious now that his reputation would remain in the gutter, no matter what choices he made. He was not Dream.

Killer's sockets narrowed.

"And what would I get for being your little hunting dog?" Again, it was bold. It was new.

Nightmare was sure his expression hadn't changed since he'd come before the group. That same angry glare that sat permanently along his skull. The magic had an image to project.

His tendrils flicked, slightly.

"Payment, room, Fresh meals, and any other amenities you may like, so long as it does not break our treasury." He replied, "All I ask is that you simply obey me. And Me alone."

Not true. He'd probably ask for him to listen to Ccino as well. Once he knew for certain he'd stay.

Killer seemed to be thinking. He eyed they king, up and down. He looked to each of the guard around the king. The ones who were back in position now, though Nightmare could feel their annoyance. Their confusion.

Then Killer turned.

Then he turned back.

"Mm. Can't be worse than the ol' noose." Killer replied. "Funny way to run a country, my king. Hiring the first murderer you spot?"

Nightmare didn't humor that with a response. He was honestly shocked the skeleton had even agreed.

Though, all of that negativity had been swapped out for a glee. Something deep in Killer had changed during their brief interaction. A hope. Night could barely grasp the edges of its existence with his subconscious. But it was there.

.

He ignored the crowds as they grew confused. He ignored the worry pouring from the criminals as he had them released and informed them of their pardon.

He did not ignore when his guards told someone to keep their distance. He glanced up. Killer was standing beyond the guards, looking bored.

Nightmare, trusting fool he was, didn't even ask a guard to watch him to ensure he stayed put.

"Stand down." He ordered the guard, who begrudgingly allowed the skeleton to smugly slip past.

His tendrils kept the monster at a distance Night preferred all on their own. He seemed to take the hint.

"They're all gonna be dead by morning, you know." Killer voiced easily.

Nightmare turned to him, confused. What did he mean by that? He'd pardoned them?

"Are you deaf? The crowd wanted us dead, especially me." He chuckled, "Leaving them here is definitely going to get them killed. If the crowd doesn't rip them apart the second you leave, then it'll happen at night. There will be no witnesses."

Oh... Night hadn't fathomed that these people could turn on the innocent once declared. It hadn't even crossed his mind. Did they have a home to return to? A family they put at risk?

The noose was a fast death, but being murdered? That would've been so much worse.

He could tell, by the way they evaded looking at Killer, that he was right. Nightmare would be sentencing them to a new sort of death if he did it like this.

But he didn't have time for a trial. Or several. The sun was going down, abd Ccino expected him back. The castle needed him present, or they might revolt.

Someone might hurt Ccino.

Oh, he was such a poor ruler. He did not know his people well enough. How he lamented the lessons Dream had taken about crowds and current issues abd how to be likeable.

Night didn't know how to handle this. He was still learning!

A trembled in his hand. He tucked the limb quickly away from where it had been lightly clutching his tunics thick fabric, now hiding it beneath his cloak.

"Killer is right. It won't be safe here, for any of you." He spoke. Thank the gods it didn't sound as shaken as he felt. "I extend an offer to you all. You may stay here, or you may come take up positions among my staff back at the castle. Unlike Killer, I do not expect any crime from you, but you will be paid and housed."

The offer was met with a roar of frustration from the crowd, Nightmare chose to allow his guards to handle it. He watched, carefully, as the four looked between eachother.

The brothers agreed first. (They introduced themselves as brothers as they knelt in thanks.) Then the Dog. She said she had no family left to watch over, starting a new life would be for the best.

The flame refused, saying they would leave town by morning, and try to stay safe.

And so, Nightmare left the town with four new party members. Each had been provided a horse, each tied to one of the guards. Aside from Killer, whose steed was held personally by Nightmare.

He figured Ccino would chew him out for this, for bringing criminals into the castle when he was sent to collect soldiers, but Nightmare had a good feeling about these ones.

They did not hate him. Or fear him. He was helping them. And it felt good.

[kaythefloppa]

Enough time has passed to where I think we can openly admit how WK has gone through seasonal rot within its previous 2 seasons and how the hype of Season 7 along with the generally positive reception is a really green flag for the show's quality.

[identityquest]

lizzie get two wolves 👍

[melancholic-pigeon]

Okay this is the *actual* last comment, for real, but I just found out Spider is now smearing me as a convert and accusing me of being involved with drama I was not involved with because he mistakenly attributed my apologies for his public temper tantrum as being about something unrelated.

THIS IS A FALSE ACCUSATION and I do not appreciate having yet another bit of fake malicious intent falsely ascribed to my actions and* attributing a completely unrelated attack to me.

Also, it's very sad and disappointing whenever a Jew gets mad at a convert because something else is going on in the Jew's life and the convert happens to be in the splash zone and the Jew falls over backwards to smear the convert and invalidate her faith.

Just....the childish aggression is making me so, so sad and disappointed, from someone I used to think very highly of, who is now lying about me and publicly smearing me with false accusations based on a conflict he started because he misinterpreted something I said and I went out of my way to give him the benefit of the doubt when trying to clear up the mistake HE MADE that led him to decide bullying and attacking me for three fucking days was appropriate and okay and that I'm the bad guy for saying it's wildly unprofessional to behave like this in public to a former customer face.

Sorry, but facts, reality, linear time and the truth of what I actually said and did are on my side here, and I will not stand for being smeared and attacked and shat all over because I had the gall to try to kindly resolve his uncalled for, unjustified temper tantrum.

I am also not sorry that I left a side note in the tags that it was also unacceptable for HIM to drag his daughter into a stupid internet slapfight based on his own reading comprehension failure. Because it was and is unacceptable, and she needs to hear that message from someone.

End of story. Keep digging that hole as long as you like, Spider. It's not helping your case and is continuing to make you look progressively worse and more unreasonable, and the only person you have to blame is yourself.

*revised for clarity

[maxgicalgirl]

Archive 81 tv show made Melody Pendras straight we cannot trust podcasts in the hands of mainstream media !!!!!!!

[baekuras]

Because I am lazy with reinventing stuff I have been looking at some fallen angels (mostly Watchers because there is a list) and it's so funny to me that there is/was an angel around to "Cure the stupidity of men" Like thanks I need no more

also there was one guy which bascially was a constellation myth for Orion and he and Azazel(/Lucifer/Satan/whoever pointed Eve to the apple) were punished by hanging out between Heaven and Earth...forever or a long time but that got me to think...this would mean that (insert name of whoever tempted Eve in YOUR specific texts) is also a constellation, and if it's Lucifer it'd be the Morning Star which from what I remember either refers to Venus OR the brightest Star in the Sky aka Sirius aka part of Canis Major aka the constellation right next to Orion Fallen Angel shenanigans in the Sky? it's more likely than you think

also smth smth them being turned into Constellations and humanity using Fallen Angels, aka the givers of forbidden knowledge (you know..like reading and stuff) to navigate smth smth

[vargaslovinghours]

∞, I mean 8, my mistake (1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7)

Starting off with a sad Edgar, aw :( So pensive, watching the fire by his lonesome

Not for long of course! The kerning’s all funny but I really liked Scriabin’s “You’re so extra” haha. It’s symbolic! Throwing it out just wouldn’t do

Both considering the implications, heads leaned in <3

Scriabin can never just comfort him normally lol, trying to downplay his attachment so he’ll stop being sad faster won’t work! Just adding to it!

Stop undermining Edgar, he’s trying to be a parent over here! Anything is worth seeing Todd smile hehe

Moving doodles, I may have gotten momentarily distracted at the thought of some Lady!Edgar pinup-style poses that maybe showed off her muscles a little bit. Possibly

Just momentarily, like I said. She’s just so pretty!

Taking a breather, it’s no good to move heavy stuff if it makes you dizzy! Get a refresh on electrolytes

Scriabin is being obnoxious, as usual haha ♪ These memories will last forever, thank goodness

>:P ♥

Just a nice quiet moment for Scriabin by himself for a change :) He’s hiding, don’t let him fool you lol

I mean, it’s at least a little funny if someone’s laughing

The original of the second to last panel! I still think I did a pretty seamless edit >:3c He’s cute here, just a little too alien eyes haha

Some more Baby Todd AU at his canon age, young kids can take almost anything in stride

Not being able to pick on him will not stand though! I also like to think that Todd’s vocabulary is slightly more advanced from Edgar raising him hehe ♥

I mean, technically Edgar is way older that Scriabin and he’s so pretty, so

Enjoying some treats together as a family :D Edgar’s such a polite nibbler haha

I started a new fic after half-dreaming it into existence, surprisingly not about the Holos! Similar tho

Or is it????? Lol

It’s him! The bauble man! Him and his big chunky sleeves haha, he keeps popping up wherever there’s Hellfire hm ♪

Yeah, don’t get it mixed >:0 It’s very obvious!

Look just don’t worry about it, this whole concept is scuffed lol

Dating Sim ideas! Of course even while inviting the player back to his place, he’s only thinking about how it would rile up Edgar lol, multitasker

I wouldn’t know how to visualize this apart from just like - showing his thoughts directly onscreen which feels? inconsistent, Scriabin’s not usually the open book of the two to the audience but! Him posing the same question to Edgar and getting a way to ping him was too fun to pass up haha

Plus he gets a “poof-poof” thought bubble collapse which I thought was funny haha ♪ He immediately takes the player’s interest as a way to mess with them of course!

Stop stripping in public >:0

Edgar’s also quite the multitasker, thinking of how Scriabin would react to an emotionally honest moment of getting closer with the player :) Not only would he hate that Edgar was getting closer to them, but ew, Edgar emotions, gross lol

This is how emotionally honest conversations usually go, right? Crying and big feelings?

They both get a poof hehe ♪ The Player likes Edgar too, but hmmmm, something about this feels different...

There aren’t the usual highs and lows with the Player like they have with each other, is this how it’s supposed to feel? Both having their doubts! I also just really like this pose, whenever they’re leaned against each other I just ♥ ah

I keep wanting to draw Scriabin with a cigarette in his mouth, I can’t explain it! Not even smoking, just, between his teeth :0

Cool guy ✨ Don’t do drugs tho hehe

Cute little lad <3 I’m still rather a fan of drawing his shines behind his hair like this, two-tone!

Sick scribbles. You two are so susceptible to mono I swear

Strongly considering an animation meme 👀 Probably an easy guess as to which meme this is, but there were a couple scratch panels that I thought were especially cute, mirroring each other on a not-so-tasty bite haha

Thoughts orbiting around You Can’t Live Like This, the thought of them getting back into each other’s heads after what they’ve gone through, ah <3 It’s so sweet! Take up the usual snuggle position

Gotta tease him tho ♥

There would be a lot of Big Feelings to sift through, and now that they’ve had a little practice at emotional intimacy- It might get to be a little much tho haha

At least he has the option to go cool down by himself now! He didn’t have that before

If I can’t see you, you can’t see me :(

I ended up doing the colour swatching lol, though I realized while grabbing colours that from some angles, Todd’s hair is actually darker than the Vargases! Huh :0 He’s using an old art shirt, probably a hand-me-down from Devi hehe <3 Also got a speed draw! :D

Establishing some rules with Jake’s help, starting with a Hard No. Something else, maybe a soft yes... [Scriabin will remember that]

Lady!Scriabin testing her limits, and simultaneously trying to open Lady!Edgar up to some boundary-stomping. Scriabin’s not being weird, you’re being weird if you don’t let her touch you! You want to be normal, don’t you? Like either of them have a good grasp on normal haha

She lets her get away with a lot, but it does feel nice so hm ♪

Edgar can be a good cook, add in some magic and it’d be so yummy! He looks so pleased haha ♥

Sensitive to smell - did he eat something snakes don’t like? Walk through some strong perfume? Just hasn’t showered?? Who knows

(It was Nny, it’s Nny’s smell lol)

Speaking of Nny- But haven’t you heard it’s what’s on the inside that counts?? Like Scriabin, he’s inside, vivisection would be easy for him lol

He got cut up anyway, poor lad haha. And a hastily scribbled Stitch Zombie!Edgar since I think he’s an interesting concept :)

He’s got a whole bunch of halos, why not make one into a spiky collar? That’s gotta hurt his hand tho, if not the flame then the sharp edges

I can’t find the post, but the etymology of incubus vs. succubus being about Position rather than Species or Gender - Scriabin does like to take a proactive role haha

“Heal up!” A cute little two-frame for a trade with @brusk-ghost​, those magical mental bandages, nearly as good as an F1 haha

Relaxing(?) makeout sesh, no rush no fuss ✨

Shut up, stop talking, just kisses >:0

Decided to go rewatch some oldish speedpaints and got inspired by the cute chibis ♪ Heart mouth! ♥

I found a song that I thought really fit the early chapters and gave me a terrible itch to draw Edgar in bandaids again, as well as some of the setpieces from then - all to transition him to his Final Form haha

“Edgar,” in case it wasn’t clear lol, basically a model sheet. He looks so cute! Stop scratching, you’ll never heal at this rate ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Squish, shhhh, no talking pls, it’s Scriabin’s turn

The eternal battle, simplified down to its base (lol), I like how Scriabin’s bangs turned out here as well :D

Fighting over him! They’re both so intense, and then there’s Edgar in the middle like “Must we though” haha

More Baby Todd stuff because it’s so cuuuuute ahhh ♥ Matching outfits with Shmee and cute baby photos in little waders and a froggie raincoat, ah <3

Dual(?) income, one kid, bit shaky on the finances. That’s quitter’s talk, it’s not about how much you have, it’s how you use it! That’s bad encouragement actually lol

He does not know, but he gets the gist of it

I started a very self-indulgent comic as a kind of memoriam, and the cuteness of papa Edgar bringing little Todd to church and crossing over him since he’s too small, ah! Scriabin finds it ridiculous of course haha

Church sanctuaries are really fun actually, and they look so cute, so cartoony in the foreground ♪

Little Todd is still shy, not that Edgar’s much better with strangers haha. Being The Adult™ in the situation can be a confidence booster ✨

More religious stuff, I was watching a review of a terrible B movie and was hit with the idea of Edgar as a priest of one of my DnD Homebrew Gods, which would be terrible for him haha ♪ Which makes it all the more fun!

Spacefiller Edgar, with the same phrasing! I just like him asking haha

Style thief! I’ve been wanting to draw him with Ariel’s bangs for a while haha, it’s silly

A silly doodle of Snake Charmer!Diaryfic!Edgar. How would that work? I also don’t know lol, just roll with it

Caught blushin’ u///u

He’s always being obnoxious! He’s very practiced!

Scriabin: *exists* Edgar: Oh gosh oh heck oh frick ❤️💕💖💞❤️💖💕

Yet more Hunchback doodles, though maybe not obviously so at first glance haha - I was very inspired by the image of Scriabin making out with someone in silhouette at a party lol

I’d never listened to the Hunchback’s Tavern Song until I was directed towards it - these lines really do suit Edgar, repressed as he is. He’s so envious, but also so reticent! Creep, watching ♪

But who was Scriabin making out with?

It was Phoebus!Jake!

Serious boy

I don’t know why but nekomimi (and wolf!Scriabin - inumimi? Okamimimi??? lol) hit all of a sudden, it’s so silly! But also very cute haha

Twitch twitch twitch stop it twitch. He just wants to play!

I finally (accidentally) listened to Pretty When You Cry and, yeahh,,,

It really is a song for them, dang. Adam gave up his rib to make the very snake that tempts him!

Another Just Desserts Joel, off the back of a kitty study, it just doesn’t work for the chibi animal style! Don’t like! Lol

The Dragons return, Edgar is bemused watching Scriabin show off his teeth because he’s just so formidable and scary haha

He could probably just barely fit his mouth around Edgar’s snoot, but it is also funny to see him just chomp lol

Quit it D:<

Considering Edgar could probably fit Scriabin’s entire head in there, maybe back off just a little bit. I mean, unless that sounds fun lol

A warmup to try and get back into the swing of drawing them, which is maybe a little ironic since the rate has slowed again haha ♪ Good practice nonetheless! And they’re cute <3

There’s September through February again! Still chock-a-block with ideas but it’s been nice to take it slow :) Not that the number is much indication haha, I think this might be the longest yet?? Dangin’

[dark-raven-feathers]

pleased to report that my band director, who normally restrains himself from acting too deranged, loses all sense of control when it's a Thursday evening and he's spent the last 72 hours around a bunch of highschoolers

[mean-scarlet-deceiver]

BoCo and Bear have this unique look they exchange. Not every day but like once every month or so—whenever there is extremely predictable drama going down at Tidmouth.

It's a wordless "Can you believe this shit?" / "No, somehow, even after forty years, I cannot quite believe this shit."

[toytulini]

it is baffling to me that ppl keep insisting "if its not sprite then what IS it tho?" and seemingly do not...retain the recipes that are being shared. like you dont have to memorize them its just repeatedly "is lemonade not sprite though? how is it not sprite?"

"its lemon juice, water, and sugar"

"is it not the same as sprite?" no we just told u. does that sound like sprite to you. does sprite give you the vibe of juicing some lemons on a hot summer day? the lemonade version closest to Sprite over here, in terms of Being Lemonade, is still Notably Different from sprite, or any other soda, is probably Minute Maid, a highly processed branded lemonade that you can occasionally get from soda fountains (DESPITE! NOT BEING CARBONATED! similar to how they somehow dispense iced or sweet tea from soda fountains) it sometimes comes in a can or 2L bottle similar to soda, in the soda isle. and its Not Soda. its not Carbonated. its Trying To Pretend So Hard To Be Real Lemonade. it tastes like lemonade thats a bit sad. it is far more lemonade than SPRITE will ever be. if yall were simply insisting that lemonade is carbonated, that it was like, fizzy minute maid, that would be less offensive than calling sprite lemonade. which is Insane. good god.

[dutybcrne]

Honestly, I love imagining that Kae behind the bar would make cocktails a la TipsyBartender as a bit, but then get genuinely invested in what limits he could push his own ( and especially Venti's ) alcohol tolerance and what flavors he could end up mixing up. That menu, however, is off-limits for everyone except himself, Venti, Albedo, and Dainsleif.

[ereborne]

Song of the Day: August 25

“Waterloo” by ABBA

[eleanorfenyxwrites]

WIP Wednesday

So okay I don't know if this is like...a cool thing to do or not, but there's a fic I claimed from the 2022 kink meme list (I couldn't resist, in large part because Tales From Jianghu Shopping Center was listed by the prompter as one of their inspirations for the prompt) that I'm not sure when I'll actually finish writing but I have started it and I'd like to at least acknowledge that I'm doing it even if the prompter won't see this. But the prompt is something along the lines of anything highly specific and niche (like my strip mall AU lol), and I actually happen to have a growing little stockpile of very very niche knowledge about my chosen professional field, which is ceramics! I specialize in wheel-throwing (though I'm also a...passable hand at plaster mold-making/slip casting and handbuilding, I just don't enjoy them nearly as much) so I've started a little something from Lan Wangji's point of view that's a love letter to throwing ♥

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As is tradition, Lan Wangji works in porcelain.

The Lan family have been respected masters of porcelain for centuries, generations stretching back, back, back nearly to the beginning of the imperial kiln production in Jingdezhen. They once produced the enormous pots that adorned emperors’ palaces – there are (very distant) cousins of his in Jingdezhen who still do so for wealthy patrons.

It’s easy to forget such a background when he enters his personal studio on the other side of the world and flicks on the lights to begin the day’s routines. It’s precisely what he wants – a quiet life like this, simple and unassuming, is much more suited to his desire than the weight of tradition that could otherwise press him and his work down into something he would never want to be.

Not that he deviates very far from tradition anyway, but it’s the principle of the thing. Lan Wangji takes quiet pleasure in simplicity, in function that is beautiful in its hard-won mastery. There are very few non-traditional ways to accomplish this that he’s interested in, but he likes having the option should he want to take it. 

Lan Wangji had learned to throw at his uncle’s knee as soon as it was possible to do so. He has continued to do so since childhood with a single-mindedness that once surprised even his uncle. All he’d ever wanted to do was to sit at the wheel for hours and hours on end, only pausing to warm the water in his bowl with a fresh influx from the kettle and to transfer full wareboards (once he was strong enough) to the drying racks in the corner of his uncle’s studio.

Lan Wangji has always struggled to find the words to convey how integral the motion of the wheel and the smooth slip of clay through his finger and against his palms is to feeling like he fits into his skin properly, but his family seems to understand just the same.

Yesterday, as the sun was westering, Lan Wangji had weighed up a few bags of fresh porcelain. The lumps are waiting for him now, tumbled together under their protective sheets of plastic, ready to be molded and shaped by hands and hypnotic motion. There’s enough of a chill in the studio this time of year that there isn’t any condensation on the plastic when he lifts it, so he folds it away neatly and settles into the easy rhythm of wedging his clay to prepare it for the wheel.

There is, in the middle of the studio, a sturdy butcher’s block workbench. He built it himself right there in the studio, the first piece of furniture that had filled the space even before he’d purchased his Shimpo wheel. It’s very likely too heavy to lift – it’s certainly too big to ever get through the door – but he has no intention of ever leaving this studio to begin another, so it suits his purposes just fine.

Wedging the clay on this sturdy, hip-height table is nearly as meditative a process as all the rest of it. A bit more of a workout than sitting at the wheel, but it’s a good way to warm up in the morning, his muscles well accustomed to the push-turn-push-turn-push-turn of spiral wedging that it’s gone beyond second nature, it simply is. His mind wanders pleasantly as he watches the misshapen lumps of pure porcelain become smooth and rounded beneath his palms. Perhaps he’ll spend the day on bowls. They’re quick and simple, suited to his mood today, and he’ll have plenty of them done by lunch when he already knows his typical solitary routine will be interrupted (and can therefore plan for it so far in advance). 

The sun is up properly by the time Lan Wangji finishes his wedging, and once he’s transferred the first batch of prepared clay to the wheel he pauses to stand in the open doorway and look out over the garden that sits between his studio and his home. The grass and the flowers are glittering fresh and dewy in the sunlight as he rolls his shoulders, stretches out his back in preparation to be seated for long hours.

When he returns, the wheel welcomes him, familiar and comforting. He fills an old bird seed bucket with warm water from the tap and arranges the small mirror at the back of the wheel’s tray to the perfect angle to watch his own hands before he settles in and takes a deep breath, sleeves rolled up and apron cinched comfortably tight around his waist as an unnecessary reminder to keep his back as straight as he can while he works.

The first ball of porcelain hits the perfect bullseye of the wheelhead and Lan Wangji leans in to begin centering, the porcelain buttery soft where it runs under his hands. Porcelain, he knows, is notorious for being difficult to work with, particularly for beginners. This far into his career, it’s simply polite and responsive to each confident press of his palms. He cones it first, hands curled around it to coax it in and up; presses it down again with the flat of his hand, every movement focused on the centerpoint of the wheel gliding silently through magnet-powered rotations. 

Up. 

Down again. 

Up.

Down.

Push.

Press.

Lan Wangji loves every part of the throwing process for what it is, but if he were to have to choose only one, this would be his favorite: the moment he can feel the clay running smoothly, perfectly centered the whole way through and ready to become whatever he will tell it to be, the possibilities – for this moment – endless.