#consider this a “how I've been doing for the last while”

[annasellheim]

So this was on the @writing-prompt-s site- so I'm treating it as a writing prompt. (I can't fucking draw right now due to a busted shoulder, so I'm doing a bunch of them because I'm alone, hurt, and sad, and they're fun).

Anyway, the story:

I sat down next to him. I looked at my former student, now an adult. A brilliant engineer. I remembered him. I had really liked this kid. The man in front of me was impressive as hell too. It didn't surprise me at all.

"I'm really, really sorry this hurt you. That I hurt you. What I was trying to do was show you some techniques. My goal was that, later, after you learned them, you could deviate from them and make your own thing.

We have a set of guidelines of things we need to teach. It's a mandatory curriculum, with national guidelines, just like math or science or whatever. But it varies from state to state. And who the hell knows what they do in private school. And the curriculum isn't focused on self expression as much as teaching you how to use fine motor skills and..."

Shit, stop it Anna. You don't need to keep justifying yourself.

I try to remember when he had moved away during the school year. I wonder if I hadn't gotten to the point in the spring semester where I gave my students more lee way, to experiment and deviate from the techniques I showed them. To let them decorate their dishes any way they wanted. To make trees and flowers for different seasons. I wondered if he had been part of one of my first classes, before I figured out how to create a really solid curriculum.

Regardless, I could have been clearer about it. I was new to teaching when I had him as a student, I know that much. I was overwhelmed, and honestly, barely keeping it together for the first, like, 4 years I taught. And there were 20-30 students in my classes. It took me a a while to figure out what works and what doesn't in the classroom.

The most important thing was this man in front of me. He was way quieter and more hesitant than the kid I remembered. I hope I didn't do that to him, but I'm was probably reading too much into it.

I took a sip of my coffee.

"You know what's cool tho? The shit you've been doing at work-"

He looked surprised and snorted.

"What?"

"You swore."

It was my turn to laugh. "Yeah, to be fair I'm not in classroom mode right now.

Anyway, the stuff you've been doing at work, it all sounds like it takes a ton of creativity to accomplish."

"I never thought of it that way..."

"Well, you've been on the forefront of a bunch of stuff because you think outside the box. I'm glad I didn't rob you of that."

We sat next to each other on the bench. He was thinking it over. I was trying to not dwell on the fact that he brought this up, that he had carried this pain with him for 20 years.

"Do you still make art?"

"No, not since elementary school, since my last-"

"Your last required art class. Got it."

I gave him a side eyed glance.

"You know you can get back into it at any time, right?"

He was taken aback, he obviously had never considered it.

I smiled. I've had this conversation before, many many times.

"It's not like a sport or something. You can start at literally any point in your life, you don't need to be young and in peak physical condition. Art ain't basketball.

The cool thing too is that you can choose what you want to make, you're an adult. Nothing in art is required for you to learn. You can pick any class you want, or no class at all."

I gave him my business card.

"If you shoot me an email, I can give you some books to read for you to get started. Not to teach techniques, but exercises that help get you back to the point where you just make stuff. I think a LOT of people stop making art for all kinds of reasons, not just because of a novice teacher. There's been a bunch of stuff that's come out recently to try to help adults make art again. y'know, to recapture the joy of it."

We said our goodbyes. I really hope he thinks it over and reaches out.

Once a little boy went to school. One morning The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. He liked to make all kinds; Lions and tigers, Chickens and cows, Trains and boats; And he took out his box of crayons And began to draw.

But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make flowers.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make beautiful ones With his pink and orange and blue crayons. But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And it was red, with a green stem. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”

The little boy looked at his teacher’s flower Then he looked at his own flower. He liked his flower better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just turned his paper over, And made a flower like the teacher’s. It was red, with a green stem.

On another day The teacher said: “Today we are going to make something with clay.” “Good!” thought the little boy; He liked clay. He could make all kinds of things with clay: Snakes and snowmen, Elephants and mice, Cars and trucks And he began to pull and pinch His ball of clay.

But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make a dish.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make dishes. And he began to make some That were all shapes and sizes.

But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And she showed everyone how to make One deep dish. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”

The little boy looked at the teacher’s dish; Then he looked at his own. He liked his better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just rolled his clay into a big ball again And made a dish like the teacher’s. It was a deep dish.

And pretty soon The little boy learned to wait, And to watch And to make things just like the teacher. And pretty soon He didn’t make things of his own anymore.

Then it happened That the little boy and his family Moved to another house, In another city, And the little boy Had to go to another school.

The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. And he waited for the teacher To tell what to do. But the teacher didn’t say anything. She just walked around the room.

When she came to the little boy She asked, “Don’t you want to make a picture?” “Yes,” said the little boy. “What are we going to make?” “I don’t know until you make it,” said the teacher. “How shall I make it?” asked the little boy. “Why, anyway you like,” said the teacher. “And any color?” asked the little boy. “Any color,” said the teacher. And he began to make a red flower with a green stem.

~Helen Buckley, The Little Boy

[wanna1be0]

part i - goodbye

synopsis: you and vi grew up together in the undercity. you've always admired her and didn't realize your true feelings until she left. when she comes back with an enforcer, sure you're hurt, but you work with her for the greater good. when cait leaves vi, you're there for her. cw: female reader, vi x reader, emotional hurt, mention of caitvi's relationship, alcohol mentioned, slow burn, spoilers s2

Vi is at her lowest. Being hit and reduced to a monster by the person she thought she could trust broke her. She resorted to the one thing she knew. Fighting.

Vi's vision has gone blurry. She's sweating from the alcohol in her system, and the black of her hair dye is running down her skin. She can tell by the smell of your perfume that you're there, and by the feeling of the big arm under hers, Loris is too.

"Can you just leave me alone?" Vi grumbles, pushing both you and Loris away as you were leading her towards the door. "No Vi, we are here to help you," you say as you put your hand back on her shoulder and continue leading her inside. Pushing you off her once again, this time even more aggressively, she starts to yell.

"Can't you see I don't need your help? I never needed your help. Not when we were younger and not now. And you Loris, I don't need your help either. Both of you should just leave."

Taken aback by her words, tears fill your eyes. When you were younger you did everything together. You were inseparable. When everything went down at the warehouse, you thought she had died and mourned her loss as if it were real.

You look to Loris for help, but he looks defeated. He shrugs his shoulders at you, while giving you a sort of knowing look. She won't change.

She is still hung up on Cait.

You consider Loris a close friend, and with that you opened up to him. About what life was like when Vi left. About what happened to Powder, to Jinx. You and Ekko kept in touch, but you weren't much of a fighter. Thinking Vi had died caused your eyes to open regarding how you really felt about her. Sure you admired her growing up, but you also grew to love her. She was strong willed, protective, someone you could count on. You were left to mourn the love of your life in solitude. And now, she was pushing you away after you had just gotten her back.

Loris and you have been doing this night after night. Sitting with Vi in the bar until she can no longer function without the two of you holding her up, walking her back to the small room she lives in, and slowly getting more and more hurt by her. "I don't know about you, [y/n], but I think I've had enough of her bullshit," Loris says pointing to Vi. And just like that, it is you and Vi. Vi and you. Alone in a dark alley.

"You don't mean that Vi, you're drunk," you say softely. Vi scoffs and begins stumbling to the door. You reach for her shoulder, but she shrugs you away, raising her voice once again, "Leave it [y/n], I don't need you." You blink the tears away, the hurt and sadness becoming searing anger.

"You know what Violet, I will leave. Lets see how long you last with this. Coming back drunk every night to a room you can barely call livable with no companion besides your fists. You know, I mourned you for years when you left. I thought you died. And then you come back, with an enforcer who you eye fuck every chance you get no less, and act as if everything is normal? Well it's not normal Vi. It never has been. And I thought maybe we could be... normal again without Cait. But I should have known better. Goodbye Violet. Have fun fighting your life away instead of facing your feelings."

The corner of Vi's vision begins to fade into black as you walk away. With tears streaming down your face, you mourn the loss of Vi all over again.

© wanna1be0 ★ do not copy, translate, repost or share this work as yours on other platforms ! consider leaving a comment, liking, or reblogging <3 also send me a request for what you want to see next!

[admirationandromantics]

Going overboard, Prologue

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Okay, so 10 hours early, but I've gotten several requests about the start of the story, so here it is! This has been a big project (still not done with the last 3 chapters...), but so worth it. Remining the readers that this story is 18+ cause of alcohol, smut, drugs (?), throwing up (cause of alcohol, not ed) and other darker themes. Remember that Josh is severly mentally ill, so if you struggle with themes like that, I don't recommend this story.

Some chapters will not feature interactions with him, and some will be longer or shorter, but I'll try to make daily updates, so no worries! This blog is purely for my creative expression, and I don't really want tips or tricks about how to do stuff better, thank you. This whole thing is a way for me to relieve stress and just write without thought. Hope you enjoy, and if you do, please consider following and liking <3

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The booze was getting empty, and the night darker. The snowstorm outside had worsened, making the inside of the cabin feel like the perfect cozy place. Emily and Jess had been talking all night about some kind of prank. I don’t know what it was about, and I didn’t want to know. Knowing the lengths they’d go, I kept my distance. During the evening they’d been regularly going away together, whether it was in the bathroom or in the kitchen. They were alone, talking, occasionally giving loud snickers. If Emily wasn’t hopelessly in love with Mike, I would’ve thought she had a thing for Jess. 

Josh is slurring around, mixing up words and almost falling over. He’s basically being carried by Matt from place to place when he wants to go somewhere. Hannah is mixing drinks, leaving them on the counter for everyone. I guess it’s tiring being hosts. Well, not for Josh, but the others. I’m sitting on the sofa with Sam, Ashley and Chris. Ashley seems fine, as she doesn’t get very verbal while drunk, while Sam’s not drinking. She’s sketching on her notepad while talking, and I occasionally look over her shoulder to see the products. They’re gorgeous, every line perfectly in place. I’m mesmerised by her talent, her ability to create something so lifelike. She’s almost like Victor Frankenstein, just a little safer with her creations. She’s drawing Chris now, making sure to add that little glisten on his glasses. I look over at him, then the drawing, then him again. It looks so real. 

“I’m in awe” I comment, looking up at her. She gets a slight blush on her cheeks, clearly not used to such positive feedback. 

“Why thank you” she smiles back at me. 

“Ohhh let me see, let me see!” Ashley shouts, reaching out both of her hands for the pad. Sam complies, putting down the pencil and giving it to her. Ashley blushes as she looks at the drawing, biting her lips in an almost invisible manner. 

“Oh look-” she points at the drawing, holding the pat in front of Chris. 

“She even got some of your freckles” she smiles, still blushing as she looks down on him. Chris doesn’t open his eyes. His head’s resting on her shoulder, and when she nudges him, he gives a slight “mmm” in reply. She gives back the drawing pad to Sam, leaning back so Chris’ head falls in her lap. Luckily she manages to catch his head with her hands, slowly putting him down. He nuzzles into her, and she runs her finger though his hair while breathing out. She’s probably scared he’s going to wake up. 

I turn, giving Sam a look before we both turn to her. The motions make her look up at us, confused. 

“Sooooo” Sam begins. 

“When are you going to ask him out?” I finish, smirking. I can’t help it. It takes a couple of seconds before Ashley realises what we asked of her, and when she does, her eyes widen and both hands immediately go to cover Chris’ ears. Sam grabs my thigh, squeezing a bit to release the energy so she doesn’t laugh.

“Shhhh he might hear you!” she whisper-shouts, looking at us. 

“Oh don’t worry, he’s out cold” Sam teases, grabbing a shot glass and filling it to the brim with tequila. 

“Well, the brain can still recognise things while sleeping”

“Nerd”

“They’re a perfect match”

“Stop it!”

We both laugh, while Ashley’s still pouting. 

“Fine, sorry” Sam continues, giving me the shot glass. I look at her, she’s got a funny look on her face. 

“What is this for?” I ask, taking hold of it and bringing it to my mouth. 

“You seem more present than the rest.” She smiles, nodding to the glass. I drink up, give a grimage and start looking for the lime. 

“There’s no more”, Ashley laughs, and Sam joins her. 

“Asshole”. I move to the kitchen, trying to find some kind of drink to make the shot not come up again. Beth joins me. 

“You look awful”

“Thank you Beth”. She gives me a beer, and I drink it as fast as I can, killing the gross aftertaste. As I look over at her, she gives me a concerning look. I finish up, another bad taste covers my insides, and I run to the sink, feeling like throwing up. 

“Fuck fuck fuck”

“Shit sorry, I didn’t think you would drink that so fast!” Beth exclaims, running to the refrigerator and grabbing some orange juice. As she hands me it, I drink like a feral animal once again, determined to not let this ruin my night. Beth stands behind me, rubbing my back and holding my hair. Just in case. Nothing comes up, and after about three minutes I stand up, giving her a bitch look. 

“Karma’s coming for you Beth, that’s not okay.” She’s still smiling softly at me, whispering for me to follow her. I take her hand, and she leads me to the bathroom. We both sit down on the floor, and I begin to feel my whole body pulsing. Every breath is grand, going to the edge of my fingers. Fuck, I’m going to be sick tomorrow. 

“I wanted to tell you something” she starts, not looking at me. 

“What”

“The others were trying to get you blasted tonight”

“You think I’m naive, of course I know that. Sam never offers alcohol to anyone, and you know how I get”

“Well, yeah. I was kind of in on it”

“I know”, I responded, laughing a little. She looks over at me. 

“You’re not mad?”

“Of course not, just fun, I wanted to let a bit loose on this trip”

“You know we have an agenda?” No I didn’t. I look up at her, her face slowly moving to the side, facing me. 

“And what is it?” She looks down in shame, and I get a weird feeling in my stomach. If this has something to do with Jess and Emily, I’m leaving on the spot. 

“Well, notice how Josh is also…”

“A little out of it?”

“Yeah, that”. Something clicks, a switch, a lightbulb, something, and I rapidly stand up. 

“Wait!” I exclaim, suddenly realising. My body is wobbling, and I grab hold of the wall so I don’t fall. Beth follows quickly, hands in the air around me in case I fall. 

“You’re trying to get me with your brother?!” 

“You like him don’t you?”

“Well Yeah"

“And you’re both drunk”

“So?”

“Drinks of bravery?”

“No”

“Yes”

“Absolutely not”, and I turn to leave. I go out in the hall, but she runs past me and corners me. 

“Okay, listen. Maybe this wasn’t the best approach, but don’t let the rest of the night go to waste, we’re having fun. No pressure on that area, okay? You’re just having fun tonight” she explains, a bit panicked. 

I can’t be mad at her, but I roll my eyes and give her a nudge, not feeling if I hit her or not. I grab her hand, and we both go to join the others. I know myself, and no matter how drunk I get, making a move on Josh is NOT something I will do. Ever. 

As we’re walking down the stairs, the people have gathered in the living room. Matt is on his way to the bathroom, walking past us and smiling. Such a sweet guy. We join the others, sitting down with Josh to my left and Emily on my right. Josh leans over. 

“Hey, want to get a smoke” he whispers, probably so Sam doesn’t hear. I look out the window, getting shivers just from seeing the snow. 

“The weather”

“We can do it through a window.” I look at the others, who are clearly busy. Nobody’s watching, and we could probably sneak out. 

“My room” he whispers, before drunkenly getting up, moving like a penguin up the stairs. He walks past Matt, who’s going down. 

“Need help Josh?”

“Do I look like I need help?”

“Yes”

“No I don’t”

Everyone laughs as Josh continues up the stairs. Hannah looks worried, but ultimately starts sipping her drink again. I don’t know how much time has passed before I decide to go. Emily, Jess and Mike went to the kitchen again, but not before drawing a bunch of stuff on Chris’ face. Nobody notices me slipping away, up the stairs and out of reach. 

I walk through the hall. Josh’s room is at the very end. The hall is spinning, doors getting mixed up. I open one of them, walking into a dark room. Makeup is spread throughout every counter, clothes everywhere. This is not Josh’s room. I drunkenly make my way out to the hallway again, noticing a door beside which is slightly ajar. 

As I arrive in Josh's room, his window is open, cold air flying through the room, giving me goosebumps. He turns around when he hears the door close, looking me up and down and smiling. He’s already got a cigarette in his mouth. I smile back, walking towards him. As I reach for the wardrobe to hold for balance, my hand slips. He’s quick to grab my arm, making a grunting sound when pulling me up. He’s got fast reflexes for someone who’s drunk so much. As I get my balance back, he grabs a pack from his pocket, opening it and letting me pull a cigarette out. 

“Got a lighter?” I ask. He smiles, taking the cylinder off my hand and holding it up to my lips. His eyebrows rise, and I take it as a sign to part my lips, leading to him placing cigarette in my mouth. His hand grabs hold of my chin, pulling me closer. He leans over, letting his burning end touch the end of mine. 

“Inhale” he whispers between teeth. I comply, lighting my own through his. I stare up at him, locking eyes. He doesn’t move away. Instead, his thumb shifts from my chin to my lips, caressing lightly. I’m drunk, he’s drunk, we don’t know what we’re doing. I pull away, away from his face and hand. 

“So we didn’t need a lighter” I say, leaning over to the window and blowing the smoke outside. He stands beside me, leaning over so we’re in the same position, arms brushing against each other. 

“You’re cold”, he tells me, looking up worried. His hand moves to my arm, grabbing. He’s warm, too warm. I sigh when he touches me, involuntary. Fuck. I blush, hoping he thinks my redness is due to the cold. 

“I don’t feel it”, I respond. A lie, but it’s okay. I’ll survive. 

“Damn, drank that much?” he says, walking over to the closet. 

“Not my fault”

“Really”, he sounds surprised. Walking back to me, a flannel shirt in hand. 

“The others are plotting” I state, as I put my hands out, letting him put it on me. When he finishes, he doesn’t button it, but leaves it open. 

“Plotting what?”

“Trying to get us together”

“Really? My sisters’ are in it too?”

“At least one of them”

“Shameless people. Trying to get her brother and best friend together”

“Yeah I know” I laugh, turning away and looking out the window once again. I take a few more drags of the cigarette, using too long, making it almost go out. He starts a new conversation. 

“You know, I thought about asking you out once”. I look surprised at him, he has his signature smirk plastered on. It’s my turn to be curious. 

“And?” He turns to me, looking down, I don’t know if he’s looking down my shirt or on my waist. 

“Well, friend group shit. Didn’t want to fuck it up”. My heart falls a bit, a heavy feeling in my chest. 

“Smart choice” I manage to answer. 

“I guess”. He sounds oddly disappointed, and I force myself to be more forward. 

“Especially since I would’ve said yes”

“What?” he asks, taking my cigarette and throwing it out the window. 

“Hey!”

“It was basically out anyway. But are you for real?” he continues, brows furrowed, and hands grabbing my shirt on each side of my waist. My face gets hot, arms wanting to feel him. 

“Yeah-”. Before I’m able to fulfil my answer, he drags me into him, chest to chest, meeting my lips in a sloppy kiss. Shocked, I pull away, walking a few steps back. I still hold onto the counter for balance, looking at him. He’s breathing heavily, a bit surprised by my response, and a little hurt. 

“Sorry, I got the signs wrong” he says, looking down. I take a breath, calming myself. 

“Is this a prank?”

“What”

“Is this a prank?” I say a bit louder, nearly shouting. Probably I am, I just don’t realize it. 

“Why would you think that?” he asks, a bit angry. 

“Because Jess and Emily were talking about some type of prank and people were getting me drunk and-” I ramble, breathing starting to get unsteady. I’m unsure about how to continue. I’m getting dizzy, needing to lay down. Josh notices. As my vision goes blurry, arms take hold of me, quickly moving me to the bed. My head is pounding, but the room doesn’t spin as much anymore. An arm is holding my head up a bit, and I feel a cold glass touch my lips. Instinctively I open my mouth, drinking the whole glass of water. He lays down beside me, and I can feel myself drifting off. 

When I wake up, it’s still dark outside. Josh is sleeping, so I make my way to the bathroom. The nausea is catching up, and I make myself vomit. Several times. Luckily, this means I’ll probably be spared in the morning. My head feels lighter, in a good way. When I’m done, I drink some more water and brush my teeth. I feel refreshed, and a little happy that was it. I don’t need to be stressed about being sick. 

As I walk out in the hallway again, I hear voices downstairs. They’re still up. I look at the clock, and notice I was only out for about half an hour. I decide not to join them. I’ve gotten enough tonight. As I make my way in the hallway, I notice Josh’s door which I didn’t close behind me. I walk over, looking inside. Josh is up, sitting on the side of his bed with his head in his hands. I walk inside, closing the door behind me. He doesn’t turn. 

“Hey” I say, trying to put on a light tone. 

“Hey”. His voice is emotionless, nothing to analyse, nothing to take from it. I walk over, sitting down in front of him on my knees. He still doesn’t look at me, only right down between his legs. 

“Can we talk?” I ask. He finally lifts his face, looking into my eyes. Before I can begin, he starts. 

“Do you really think I would do something like that?”

“What?”

“Toying with your feelings. Being part of Jess’ and Emily’s schemes?” Now it’s my turn to look down, shame filling my chest. 

“I was so drunk Josh, still am, but I panicked, and spiralled…” I feel a tear run down the corner of my eye. I was not planning on crying, but this night had been more eventful and emotional than most. He doesn’t hesitate to dry them, catching each one with his thumbs. 

“I know, now I’m the one spiralling, sorry” he whispers. I lean forward, hugging him around his waist. He hugs me back. 

“I didn’t mean to pull away”, I explain, not being brave enough to look him in the eyes while confessing. He pulls me away, looking at me. I can’t decipher his face, something hopeful maybe, but not too much. It’s now or never, I must tell him. Before he can ask, I get up, lean forward, and kiss him. He doesn’t back away, instead he grabs my thighs, leading me on top of him, still on the edge of the bed. The kiss is sloppy, as we’re still drunk and a bit dizzy. His hands wander to my waist, grabbing hold of the top of my bottoms. I bite his bottom lip, making him grunt in response. 

“Fuck” he mutters. Grabbing harder, making me gasp. He uses the opportunity to put his tongue in my mouth. I let him. He moves his hands, signalling me to grind on him, and I do. I want him. Bad. My body warms up, the window’s still open, but I can’t feel the cold. As I move on him, he pulls off his own flannel, before dragging my shirt off. I do the same to him. Feeling him up from the lower part of his muscular stomach to his shoulders. My breathing quickens, feeling every curve of his body with my fingertips, trying to memorise it all. He's warm, tense but calm, and I melt into his touch. I lean forward to capture his lips again, and he meets me halfway. I can feel myself getting wetter by the minute, and before I know it, he turns us around, laying my back on the bed, hovering over me. He leans down again, kissing my collar and neck. I can’t help the whines that come out of me. I feel needy, hot. I need him. He stops by my breasts, looking up. 

“Do you want this?” he asks. 

“Yes Josh, please. I want you” 

He smiles in response, and I can’t help but mirror it. 

***

Loud bangs are heard on the door. I wake up with a headache, but luckily no nausea. I poke Josh, making him wake up abruptly, grabbing his head, a painful look on his face. His headache seems worse than mine. 

“Someone’s in the hallway” I say, leaning down and kissing his head. 

“Fuck” he whispers. “Let’s get this over with”

“What is it?” he shouts through the door. 

“Josh, we need you!” I hear Mike shout. “Your sisters are missing!”

[thunderlina]

Analyzing the Magia Exedra character portraits (so far)

The character art for Magia Exedra has been absolutely gorgeous so far and while staring at it longingly in anticipation for the game's release I've noticed some things I want to discuss.

The main thing is that they all depict the featured magical girl fighting a specific witch. Let's go through each of them:

Homura's is the most obvious since we can see the witch she's fighting in full, Walpurgisnacht. Considering how central the fight against Walpurgisnacht is to Homura's timeloops, and the fact we've seen Walpurgisnacht in other promo art for Exedra, this doesn't come as much of a surprise.

Mami is an interesting case because she has two pieces of art at the moment. Both appear to depict her fighting Gertrud in episode 2, as evidenced by the flowers in the first image and the background which resembles her barrier in the second. Seeing as Gertrud is the first witch we see her fight in the anime this makes sense.

Sayaka's art depicts her fight against H. N. Elly (aka Kirsten) in episode 4. More specifically it's a direct callback to her final attack in said episode.

Kyoko's art depicts her fight against Oktavia von Seckendorff in Episode 9, moments before shattering her own soul gem. Notice her soul gem is not in it's typical place on her chest and her hair bow is nowhere to be found. You can also faintly make out the theater seats of Oktavia's barrier in the background.

I saved Madoka herself for last because I'm slightly stumped on hers. It almost appears that she's the exception and isn't fighting a witch at all. The patterns around her resemble those seen in episode 12 when she's saving all the other magical girls from becoming witches, so it's possible that's what's being depicted here. HOWEVER the cloudy blue sky backgrounds also resemble those seen in Patricia's barrier in episode 10, so perhaps this depicts that fight instead?

Iroha's portrait may carry some unfortunate implications for Magia Record game fans since she's depicted fighting Box Wood, a witch who originally debuted in the not particularly well-liked Magia Record anime, which could indicate Exedra's version of the MagiReco story will pull from the anime more than the game.

Yachiyo's art depicts her fighting Stacey, who appears in Magia Record Arc 1 Chapter 8, as well as Episode 8 of the Magia Record anime. I'm admittedly not very familiar with Magia Record's story (I've seen the anime but barely remember a lot of it, and watching several hours of Live2D models talking to each other is uhhhh not the most exciting thing to do) so I'm unsure if this holds any particular significance to Yachiyo herself.

Stacey's barrier is noticeably different between the game and the anime, which could be another clue as to which version of events Magia Exedra will be pulling from, but it's a bit difficult for me to tell which one this resembles more since so little of it is visible.

That's all I have to say on the matter though. PLEASE reblog with any details I've missed because I'm sure there's more to be read into here.

[beef-brisket]

Adam looked around while Lucifer bounced Avery on his knee.

Adam: So. Redemption, huh? It's uh... interesting idea.

Charlie beamed: Really!? I mean- yes. Very interesting. There's a lot of planning that has gone into everything.

Adam glances over to the bar: Yeeah, I can tell.

He wanted to tell the princess that she's wasting her time, but he really didn't feel like getting into an argument.

The fuck is happening to him? He loves starting fights.

Fuck it.

Adam: You know it's bullshit, right?

Charlie: B-Bullshit?

Lucifer glances over to them.

Lucifer: You should hear her out, Adam. She's done a lot of work.

Adam: Oh sure. This place is huge and everything but how many guests do you have?

Charlie gulped: Two-. But that's okay! Their doing great! They have weekly sessions-.

Adam: That's cute. How many have you redeemed?

Everyone was silent, even Avery.

Adam: ...You don't know oooor none?

Charlie looks away: none.

Adam: Hm. Interesting but not impressive.

Vaggie: Look, fucker. She's worked hard on this place and these sinners that are here! You can just shit on her idea!

Adam: Oh, consider ot well shited on, Vagina~.

Charlie glanced at Vaggie, did Adam know her?

Adam: It's just- I mean fuck. Look at it! Do you really think Heaven is going to let in sinners just because they know how to not be a piece of shit 24/7?

Vaggie glared: They let you in.

Adam smiled: Yeah, they did.

Vaggie storms up to him: Listen here, first prick. You can't just come in here like you fucking own the place and tell the PRINCESS of Hell that her dream isn't going to work!

Adam smiled wider as Vaggie went off on him. Fuck he missed this.

Adam: Oh, I can't? Well, I am technically a representative of Heaven, I've been there for nearly 10,000 years, bitch. It's my fucking job to protect every soul up there from the scum down here. So, why would I just bend over and let your little princess ass fuck me into letting sinners upstairs, huh?

Vaggies eye twitched: thatsnotwhatshesdoing.

Adam: Isn't it? Yo, Chandler, do you know what you need to do to pass divine judgment?

Charlie: Uh- I-It's Charlie- hi! Actually... I do!

Adam: Really? Well, you'd be athe only one, toots~. So, wanna enlighten us?

Charlie: ...Wait- no one knows?

Adam smiled: One person knows!

Charlie: Oh- who?

Adam: You. You just said you knew. Unless you were lying-.

Adam gasps: Which is a big no-no! So. Either you know what a soul needs to pass divine judgment oooor you don't. Which is it?

Charlie: ...I don't know.

Adam: There we go.

Charlie: Look- everyone deserves a second chance, right? If this is a long-term solution for stopping the exterminations, then shouldn't we all be doing our part?

Adam: Ha! Fuck no!

Avery: no!

Adam: That's my girl~. How about this, if you can answer this question for me, I'll support your hotel.

Charlie beams again: Okay! What is it?

Adam: What sinners don't qualify for your hotel?

Charlie: ...They all qualify- everyone deserves a second chance.

Adam: Oh yeah? Do you know what some of these assholes down here have done? Do serial killers deserve to go to Heaven? Do their victims deserve to live out their afterlife in fear because the cunt that fucking butchered them are now in Heaven?

Charlie: I... e-everyone deserves a second-.

Adam: Want to say something else? Something that's meaningful? Not everyone deserves a second chance, Channing. Some deserve to rot down here, and if I'm lucky, I get to shove my axe into their chest once a year. So, I'll give you one last chance. What sinners don't qualify for your hotel?

What about an au where Adam goes to Hell for night trips, wher ehe just parties and fucks. He has a disguise (it's just a slightly different looking helmet).

Lucifer joins his daughter and her friends at a bar, where he sees "Adam". He instantly knows it's him, but he's curious as to what he's doing.

So Lucifer spends hours flitting with him and buying him drinks to get him drunk. But Lucifer actually finds himself having a great time.

Long story short- they fuck, Adam doesn't let Lucifer know he's Adam. He goes back to Heaven and after a few months, he finds out he's pregnant.

Which is fucking weird cause he's definitely a dude, and he's very dead. But Lucifer's the Devil 🤷.

He basically has to play it off as him getting fat. It's working until the next meeting with Lucifer happens during his ninth month, and he's goes into labor right in front of Lucifer.

Lucifer: Why didn't you tell me your were fucking pregnant!?

Adam: Because you didn't know it was me!!

Lucifer: Yes I did! You have the same face!

Adam: ..... Oh..

[dailypokemoncrochet]

Random stats and insights

The last six Pokemon I crocheted, I timed how long it took. Shedinja 4 hours, Guzzlord 15.5 hours, Lokix 3.5 hours, Iron Treads 7.5 hours, Miraidon 12 hours, Koraidon 15 hours.

I specifically picked complicated Pokemon (Guzzlord, Miraidon, Koraidon) to see what the upper limit would be, and I'm confident that I can crochet (what I consider to be complex/more detailed) Pokemon in less than 16 hours total each the first time around. That includes the time spent physically crocheting, checking the reference models, redoing parts, sewing, writing notes. Does not include break times.

Guzzlord (16hr) didn't have so much redoing but it did have physically a lot of parts, many of them small, and that took the most time. Koraidon (15hr) similarly had a lot of small parts (feathers, spiky bits), but what took the most time was having to redo major aspects like the torso and legs and wheel to get the proportions better. Neither of those were especially difficult in terms of figuring out HOW to crochet them; it was mostly that there were a lot of parts. Miraidon (12hr), on the other hand, was more of a challenge to figure out how because it's atypical of a Pokemon to be so machinelike, so that took some time.

Iron Treads (7.5hr) I thought would be medium difficulty because of the machine thing. The part that took the longest was embroidering the outer lines on the treads (they kept coming out more crooked than I wanted) but otherwise was straightforward to design.

Lokix (3.5hr) I also thought would be medium difficulty because of the thinness of the legs. I didn't even know before starting that the back legs swiveled down, but that didn't take overly long to figure out. (Also I still have to take pictures of that because it's a cool effect. The thinness makes it kind of frail and difficult to pose though)

Shedinja (4hr) seemed like it would be pretty simple! The most difficult part was figuring out the color changes on the body. I thought it would be more difficult to make the back an actual hollow hole, but that was pretty simple. Actually the most difficult part was that Saturn my cat was on my arm for a significant chunk of the time crocheting and she surprisingly did attack the crochet once.

Small sample size but the results track with how I've been working on the others so far. I didn't do anything too differently from ones I haven't timed (crochet while watching TV or listening to music, varying levels of assistance from Saturn, taking regular breaks, etc). I've always known it took a few hours at least for any Pokemon. It's kind of weird to put actual numbers to it.

[serickswrites]

5...4...3...2...1

Prompt from the lovely @watermelons-whump-game

Warnings: guns, gun violence, hostage situation, self sacrifice, fade to black, gun shot, threat of death, forced to watch

"I am only going to give you one chance, Caretaker," Whumper drawled, "tell me what I want to know and I will make your death quick. Just a quick shot at the base of your skull, you won't even feel a thing. Lie to me, or refuse to tell me, and I will make your death so long and drawn out you will be begging me for mercy."

"Please," Caretaker begged, their hands raised. "I...I...I don't want to die."

Whumper chuckled. "Good, then just tell me where Whumpee is and I'll send you on your way."

"But.....you'll kill me," Caretaker sobbed. They didn't want to die. They were so terribly afraid. But they couldn't give Whumpee to Whumper. They just couldn't do that.

"You're going to die anyway. May as well make your death painless, right?"

"Please," Caretaker said, their voice thick with tears, "don't make me do this. I...I don't want to. Please."

"Caretaker, you seem to be operating under the delusion that I may spare you. And by extension Whumpee. Let me clarify. You are going to die. Whumpee is going to die. I can make your death a mercy. Or I can make sure your death is the most pain anyone has suffered. The choice really is up to you."

"Let them go," Whumpee said as they appeared in the doorway. "I'm the one you want. Let Caretaker go."

"No!" Caretaker shouted as Whumper turned and grinned.

"I was wondering when you would show up. It took you long enough." Whumper waved their gun in the air. "I suppose you want me to let them go as a show of good faith?"

"Let them go and you can do whatever you want to me," Whumpee said as they avoided Caretaker's gaze.

"Please, don't do this, Whumpee! There has to be another way!"

Whumper considered a moment. "Fine. But they have to watch. Then I'll let them go."

Whumpee opened their mouth to protest. While they couldn't trust that Whumper would let Caretaker go, they knew that if they pushed the point, Whumper would just kill Caretaker on the spot. Just to spite Whumpee. "Fine."

"PLEASE!" Caretaker screeched.

"It's ok, Caretaker. It's ok." Whumpee said as they finally turned their gaze to Caretaker's. Caretaker's eyes were filled with tears as Whumpee stared into them. "You'll be ok. I promise."

"Let's get this show on the road then!" Whumper said as they pointed the gun at Whumpee's face. "I've been waiting to do this for a very long, long time."

Whumpee stared down the barrel of the gun pointed in their direction. Though they were afraid, they would not show it. Because if they showed how afraid they were, Caretaker would do everything they could to stop it.

"I love you," they whispered softly, knowing Caretaker would hear them. Perhaps those were fitting last words. Perhaps they would give Caretaker comfort. It was no matter, Whumpee wouldn't be around long enough to find out. "I love you," they repeated and they closed their eyes.

The sound of the gun being fired echoed perfectly in Whumpee's ears.

Tags: @mousepaw @jumpywhumpywriter @knightinbatteredarmor @hufflepuffwritingstuff2 @anightmarishwhump

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @celestialsoyeon @st0rmm @ay5ksal @pedro-pedro-pedro-pedro-pe

@pepeniascat

[key-lime-soda]

one very underrated form of anti-capitalism is documenting prices for the sake of holding industries accountable and preserving history.

for example, i have been doing a bit of research on video game pricing history and one thing that really surprised me was how little game prices have changed over the years. here's an article I found from the Official Xbox magazine in 2010 talking about how pricing games at $60 is something that needs to be changed.

again, this is from 2010. I was under the impression up until now that AAA games were sold for like $35 back then but apparently not?? and even though this article is discussing upcoming price drops, they're still didn't go much lower than $50 for AAA games and $40 for non-AAA games. (yes i am aware that nintendo games have historically been cheaper but still not by much, at least in terms of home console games and not handheld games).

you can't even argue that games are still more expensive nowadays (some go as high as $70-80 for the base game alone), because adjusting for inflation would mean a $60 game in 2010 would cost $86.28 today. which sounds about right for a AAA these days. and btw finding actual records of how much games used to cost is an absolute pain in the ass because no one thought to properly document these things. once a game reaches the age of a permanent price drop its hard to find its old price. most ads for games don't even include prices, so that consumers wouldn't be turned away from the high cost. marketing techniques have hidden predatory pricing for ages.

document the past. don't let nostalgia blind us from knowing how things really used to be

[uncanny-tranny]

At this point, gender nonconformity is about what the person says their experience is.

If a woman with a beard or a man with lipstick and a mustache says they're gender nonconforming, then they are! If a woman with short hair or a man with long hair says they aren't, they aren't! And that's not even getting into the awesome nonbinary, abinary, genderqueer, intersex, and general genderfuckery that may both be and not be conforming.

So much of what is even considered gender conforming or gender nonconforming is based on a world of exclusion. When we start defining one's conformity with whether they fit into white cishetero perisex standards or not, we play into the idea that there's only a very narrow window of what is considered worthy of time and thought.

[sysig]

Challenge level: Impossible (Patreon)

[vettelcore]

people with outdoor cats be like: yes my cat came back home half dead, caught hiv, is full of parasites and sometimes has gone missing for weeks but i don't care bc at least the cat is free and not locked inside like selfish people do!!!

[melverie]

Aaaaaaahhhhhhhh today I've been constantly experiencing the urge to un-private today-in-the-devildom & start writing for it again

[forgotten-daydreamer]

vent moment but my health is a bit worse than i let on, which is weird ik since it seems like complain about it all the time here, and apparently i also look sick, because two separate people in their 40s or 50s asked me, 24, if i needed their seat on the bus. kind of them. but humiliating nonetheless.

[lem-argentum]

it took me until dt to change rudy's hairstyle, but i ACTUALLY think he would've cut it back in post-stb when he became a reaper. the trope of "character cuts hair to feel more in control of their life" is cliché but REAL. and also the visual of him cutting it with his scythe is fun

[imflyingfish]

.

[polygondotcomvideoproducer]

Uni lecture is making me think about my future for a minute and auuuggghhhh the agonies