#considering I hate turn-baseds i sure do play a lot of them

[lostinlovingrevery]

Fever

Patch! Logan X F! Reader

He wants you to be his

A/N: the way this just kept going lol....Also consider this a hint/peek at what the Patch! series will look like! (w/ some things changed)

Warnings: 5K WC LOL, SMUT! reader is a singer and wears a sexy dress, creepy pervert boss- unwanted touch!, drinking, patch being a flirt, secret established relationship, possessive! logan, patch defending his girl so violence, unprotected piv, f! and m! oral recieving, doggy I guess?, choke hold, marking, a little bit rough sex but not that much, you get fucked silly, yay!

Getting through the night was always a little hard. 

As someone who hates being the center of attention, you’re not sure why you choose to be an entertainer of all things.

Standing on a stage, blinded by shining lights, made deaf by the orchestra that surrounds you. Wearing a dress that shows a tad too much cleavage, snapping your fingers to the beat while swinging your hips side to side and showing the world what your momma gave you.

Your voice echoes back in your ears as you sing and it doesn’t even sound like you. 

Sun lights up the daytime

Moon lights up the night

I light up when you call my name

And you know I'm gonna treat you right

You give me fever

Yet despite the quiet anxiety you feel onstage, where hundreds of onlookers watch you- faces of envy, jealousy, lust- you still felt yourself lost in the lyrics of your song. It captivates you, a song falling between love and lust. A song you find yourself in every day lately.

You couldn’t make out the sea of faces that stared up at you- the stage lights left white spots in your version, blurring the scene before you like a Claude Monet painting with the vast colors that decorated the crowd. 

Even with such an audience in the room, you could feel the stare of one man. Every set you play- even when you don’t see him, you can feel him. 

You finished your set, the last song of the night. Thank god.

The audience claps, a few whistles and whoops. You thanked them for a wonderful night, and handed the microphone off to the announcer who gave you a chaste kiss to the back of your hand, bidding you compliments and a good night to the audience and you quickly made your exit. 

The first place you went to is the bar. 

Needing a drink to take the edge off, and decompress before you head upstairs to your room. The bartender, a dear friend of yours- already knew you were on your way and had prepared your favorite. 

She had set it on the counter the moment you sat on your stool. 

“Thank you-” You smile, your voice sounding a little hoarse as you clear it. You took the glass, taking a generous sip that burned your throat and did nothing to quench your actual thirst- but at least you could relax a bit.

“Beautiful tonight as always,” She compliments. “ Y’know…” She glanced around, checking to see if anyone was watching, the bar- set off to the side of the large showroom sat mostly empty. Most patrons cleared out after the last song- drunk and horny and looking to either crash in their rooms or find an escort to keep them company for the night. “I noticed you’ve been singing a lot of love songs lately…” 

You rolled your eyes, “Sweetheart, my whole style is based on crooners. You show me a song from them that isn’t about love.”

“There’s a few I’ve heard you sing. This is different though you’re like…So into it.” She teases, tapping you on the hand that held your drink. She then mimics you singing, being extra dramatic in her expression and mimicking the lyrics. You begin to laugh.

“I don’t do that!” You playfully shoved her, but you felt heat blooming in your cheeks. You went to sip your drink while your friend continued teasing you, and you turned your back away from her- pretending as if you didn’t know her. 

You were smiling to yourself, looking down at your drink when you noticed a pair of dress shoes. You brought the glass to your lips, as your eyes trailed up the white suit that stood before you, taking in the broad shoulders before reaching the handsome face. 

An infamous man known as Patch, at least around here. Nicknamed by what you presume from the eyepatch that covers over his left eye. A repeat customer to the casino you perform for, a gambler with a very long streak of luck, and a penchant for getting into fights. You’ve heard he was banned from multiple casinos around Madripoor- due to his ability to win just about any and every game of chance, rumors say that he earned hundreds and thousands of earnings from his wins. Other rumors say it’s due to his other talent at throwing punches. 

No one knows his story, but then again- that was true for everyone in Madripoor.

He was famous for appearing as a gentleman, but underneath the classy suit, he was a scoundrel. 

You slowly lowered the glass from your lips, struck by his looks. Dark brown locks slicked back, and neatly trimmed mutton chops, giving him a more classy appearance. One of the guards of the casino once told you that he saw him first as a cage fighter, back when Patch first came to the city- and looked more like an wild, untamed animal, nothing like he does now. 

Your casino hasn’t thrown him out yet. This isn’t the first- nor will it be the last time he has approached you. All charm and smiles that you couldn’t help feel weak in the knees from. 

“Looked wonderful up there tonight, darling.” His voice was deep and low, the sound shooting up your spine. He stepped closer, a hand reaching out to rest on your hip. “- As always, of course.” His smile grew. 

His demeanor always held a certain intimidation, like he was posing a challenge to everyone in the room. He stood over you, looking down at you like you were prey, but you could see a glimmer in his eye- something familiar. 

A warm feeling pooled in your tummy at the way his hand softly caressed your hip. For a moment, you leaned in, getting yourself lost in the green of his eye. Reason struck you, and you stepped back, removing his hand from your hip and curling yours around his hand, feeling the warmth from him.

“Thank you.” You tilted your head, flashing your practiced smile, you give to anyone who comes to compliment you on the entertainment you provide. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“I certainly did.” He hums, his smile fading into something more sincere, looking you up and down, and your heart flutters when he looks back at you again. He leaned down, bowing as he brought the back of your hand to his lips, pressing them gently to the skin and looking up at you- a lingering pause, before standing up. A cocky smirk returned on his face, “If you’re looking for company tonight, you know where to find me. Sweetheart.” 

He let go of your hand, bringing it over to tip your chin up, his eye grazed over your neck. He gave you a wink, before walking away. 

You didn’t even realize you had been holding your breath the entire interaction. You watched him walk to the other end of the bar. Finally letting it out and tearing your eyes away to face the counter. 

Your friend was looking at you knowingly, raising a brow.

“Shush.” 

“I didn’t say anything!” She exclaims, holding her hands up defensively. “I saw how you were looking at him, though….”

“He was just complimenting me. I get multiple people who come up and do that every night.” You argue. 

“Whatever.” She says, “Just be careful. You know that guy has a reputation.” 

You shook your head, looking away to laugh her off. “There’s nothing to be careful about because there’s nothing happening.”

“Woah hold on-” Her hand reached out, stopping you from looking at her again. “You got a major hickey.”

“What?” You blinked in surprise. She laughs, 

“So much for nothing happening.” She smirks, removing her hand. You brought your own hand to touch where the so-called hickey was, a small panic hitting you. You were so sure you covered everything with makeup this morning! How could you miss it?

You glanced over to where Patch was sitting on the other end of the bar. He was watching you with a cocky expression, and toasted the glass of whiskey the other bartender had served him towards you, before taking a long swig- not breaking away his stare. 

You looked away, embarrassment creeping up your spine. You knew you shouldn’t be embarrassed- but the way Patch was staring at you, it made your thoughts run wild- and your thighs press together. 

You went to finish your drink off, so you could head back to your room upstairs- when a familiar voice sent dread through you, nausea bubbling in your stomach. 

You forced a smile, and turned around to give a semi-flirty look to your boss- the head of the casino.

Michael Karas, an older, filthy rich gentleman who hits on you every chance he’s got, and does whatever he can to parade you around under his arm and by his side. He was a known grade A pervert- all the girls who work under him do anything to minimize contact with him. He typically gets bored with one, moves on to another- but unfortunately for you, he has clocked in on you since you first came a year ago and hasn’t let go since. 

The man harasses you every night. You’ve been forced to get dinner with him, drinks, go to premiers and more. You gag at the gossip magazines in stores that imply you’re in a relationship with him. He’s repulsive, disrespectful, and just plain weird.

However, he is your boss, and one of the most powerful people in Madripoor. You tried to completely turn him down once, and was told that you would “disappear” if you ever refused him again. So you do whatever you can to remain at a professional, platonic level with him. Maintaining excuse after excuse as to why you couldn’t be with him. You acted like it was a fun little game- for him. Felt like survival for you.

So far it has worked- but lately Micheal has been coming on to you more. Being touchy and more demanding.  

You’re not sure how much longer you can push him away.

“Gorgeous!” He smiles as he walks to the bar counter where you sat, his arms open for you as he approaches. Surrounded by multiple men in security suits. You stood up to give him a polite hug, but he pulled you tighter to him, and gave you a wet kiss on the cheek. 

You attempted to hide the look of disgust on your face. Pulling away, you grabbed your drink and held it between you both, at least something to keep him a few inches away from your personal space. You brought your hand up to where the supposed hickey was located- hoping that Michael doesn’t notice that or your strange body language. 

“Your voice is as angelic as ever my dear.” He purrs and you let out a small laugh.

“Thank you Micheal.” You crossed your arms, and his arm slinked around your waist pulling you close. 

“Say, why don’t you come finish your drink with me? Hm?” His hand came up to boop your nose, which made you have to struggle to hide your cringe from him. 

“Uh…I…” You shook your head, struggling to find an excuse. “I’m really tired tonight, Micheal.” 

“Oh dear- You’re tired every night.” He moves to stand in front of you. “It’s not like it’s work to be with me. I’ll take care of you. Haven’t I already?” 

He flashes you a smile and you want to puke. 

“I just don’t feel good.” 

He frowns, tipping his chin up to look down at you. Letting go he steps back, his hands up in surrender, with a dry tone. “Hm, alright. God forbid I would want to catch something.” 

A smile of relief came across you and you nodded. “Exactly, I know you work so hard honey- That’s why it’s not a good time.” You squeezed his arm reassuringly. 

“Yeah, right.” He looks at you, tongue in cheek. You leaned forward to give him a kiss on the cheek, turning to walk away- when his hand came down on your ass making you yelp. “Get some rest sweetcheeks because tomorrow night- You ain’t getting out of dinner with me.” 

You would have turned around and given him a piece of your mind, to lecture him- it didn’t matter who he was; he didn’t have a right to do that.

However, someone else beat you to it 

“Hey bub.” 

Patch was across the bar in a flash. Michael could barely react before he was met with Patch fist to his face, knocking him clean to the ground. 

One of the guards grabbed you and pulled you away causing you to stumble, while the others went after Patch, tackling him, landing punches across his face and stomach- only he didn’t seem affected. The scene went into chaos, as you watched your boss attempt to pick himself up from the ground, holding his jaw. Patch broke loose from three guards who were attempting to pin him to the counter and landed yet another punch to your boss, knocking him out as he fell to the ground. 

You don’t condone violence, however, this was extremely satisfying to witness.

Before you could do or say anything, the same guard dragged you away from the bar, out into the showroom, where he escorted you to the halls, where he left you to rejoin his brethren in an attempt to take down the one-eyed gentleman in the white suit. 

You stood there awkwardly, a little unsure of what to do. You heard sounds of clashing, disruption coming from the room- while party-goers walk past you with strange looks on their face, attempting to peer in. You give them an awkward smile, before turning to find another bar in the casino.

You really needed another drink.

After successfully getting one, you finally went back to your room. You dragged your feet, mind wandering back to Patch, and wondering if he got out okay. 

You reached the door to the penthouse you live in, amazing view, nice furniture. It’s cozy- maybe not exactly your style, but since you don’t have to pay rent, you couldn’t complain. Inserting your key card into the door, and walking into the darkness of your place. 

Except the light coming off a lamp in the corner of the living room drew your attention. 

There sat Patch on one of the chairs that adorned your living room. Leaning back with his legs spread and a glass of whiskey in hand. He smirked at your surprised expression. 

“Hey, sweetheart.” 

“Logan!” You hissed quietly under your breath, closing the door behind you and making sure it’s locked. He tilted his head, a false expression of confusion on his face. 

“What?” 

“You can’t just come in here like that- what if I was with somebody?” You walked towards him in the living room with your hands on your hips. 

“I would’ve taken care of it.” He says, turning to sip his whiskey before carefully setting it on the table next to him, atop a coaster. 

“Like you took care of Michael?”

He glanced up at you and smirked. Standing up, he walked over to you. You sighed, your hands reaching for the lapel of his coat. “You okay?” You ask, worry crosses your expression.

“Love when you worry about me.” He grins. “You know there ain’t no reason to.”

“Maybe…” You look down, frowning at the speckles of blood on his coat. He noticed what you were looking at, and shed it off, tossing it to the side and leaving him in slacks, a button-up dress shirt, and suspenders. “That’s better.” You hummed, your fingers looping under the suspenders and playfully snapping them against his chest. 

“Ow.” He mocks, and smiled down at you. His arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you close, your noses bumping against each other, as he held his lips inches away from yours.

“Not so tough, are you?” You whispered. 

“Against you? Definitely not.” He mumbles, his lips brushing over yours. “You okay?” 

“M’fine.” You nodded. He pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of your lips, then your cheek, then the tip of your nose. You shut your eyes, savoring the feeling of his lips over your skin. His hands gripped your hips and pulled you against him.  “You’re going to get us caught flying off the handle like that-”

“Good.” He mumbles, continuing to shower your face, down to your neck, with kisses, making sure his lips touch every inch of your skin. “Tired of pretending like you ain’t mine.”

You heard a change of his tone, the growl of his voice when he said “mine” and it sent goosebumps down your arms. 

You’re not sure how this thing started between you and Logan- or “Patch”. He showed up, and swept you off your feet. Due to your “relationship” with your boss, or lack thereof, you and Logan have snuck around. It was fooling around initially- or so you thought. The feelings that have grown for the man known as Patch suddenly appeared just as quickly as he had.

Logan hated Micheal for more reasons than one- but for your own safety he dealt with it. He could’ve killed him, the bastard deserves it more than most people lives Logan had ended. However, with his own mission- it would cause some serious problems. Now, however…

It was fun initially, pretending not to know each other during the day, but by night…

However, Logan’s grown tired of that game. Tired of watching you from the distance- wishing he could hold you, have you sit in his lap during his sessions of gambling, and cuss out any fucker think he’s worth his salt to even look at you. 

“The bastards, lucky I didn’t chop his head off the moment he touched you.” He murmurs as he presses a kiss to your jaw. You tipped your head back, giving him purchase to your neck, your lips parting as you leaned into his kisses. “I’m gonna kill him, then he can’t ever fucking touch ya again-” 

“Logan-” You stopped him, and he looked at you with a quirked brow. “Not funny.” 

“I wasn’t joking.” He looked down at you. The expression in his eye sent chills down your back, and excitement. “I would have killed him tonight if it weren’t for his little team of babysitters.” 

“Lo.” You repeat his name, “He’s an asshole, I agree but killing him? You’re going to get yourself killed instead.” 

Sure, would Michael being gone be a weight off your - and likely hundreds of other shoulders? Yes. Aside from not wanting to condone murder… He is a well-known figure in this city. If Logan did anything and it was traced back to him… Healing factor or no, you couldn’t bear the idea of him getting hurt. 

“Can’t die, baby. You know that.” His hands climbed up to cup your face gently. “I’m getting sick of not being able to show you off. Everyone needs to know you’re mine.” 

You smiled, turning to kiss the palm of his hand. “I know, isn’t that enough?” 

His expression softened, and he leaned forward to capture you in a real kiss. His hands began to explore your body. Your lips moved over each other, possessive and passionate. He pushed you back, pushing you against the wall. 

“You act like you don’t condone what I do, but you forget I can hear your heartbeat baby.” He mutters between passionate smooches. “And I can tell when you start feeling all needy. Turned you on when you watched me make him pay for touching you, didn’t it?”

“Maybe…” You muttered under your breath. He chuckled, nipping your bottom lip, before turning his attention to your neck. Slowly he lowered himself down to his knees, pressing a trail of kisses down your center, kissing your belly through your dress as he looked up at you. One of his hands pressed to your lower back, while the other slipped past the slit of your dress, making contact with your skin. 

He smirked at the shiver that ran through you, as he brushed his hand over your thigh, before cupping for your ass, his fingers going underneath the hem of your panties. He continued pressing kisses to you through your dress while feeling you up. 

“You’re so damn beautiful.” He murmurs against the fabric of your dress. “Can you blame me for wanting to show you off?” 

“Mm.” You giggle. “I can’t risk you getting hurt Lo. I know you can’t die, but Micheal…He knows people. He gets any idea and he’ll figure out how to get you killed.” 

“Not if I get him first.” He suggests again. “He’s become a fucking annoyance with my own problems anyway.” 

Logan hasn’t told you exactly why he was here in Madripoor, where he came from, what he was even doing. Claims he’ll tell you one day, when it’s safe for you to know. You’re not sure if he’s telling the truth, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Not when he worships you the way he does. 

His hand under your dress began tugging your panties down to your ankles. He helped you step out of them while pocketing them. He then helped you take off your heels before encouraging you to put one leg over his shoulder. 

Pressing a kiss to the top of your foot, then your ankle, he worked his way up until he was nipping the skin of your inner thigh. He pressed his lips into the crease of where your thigh met your core, licking the skin there, before turning his head to press a teasing kiss to your clit. You buried your hand into his hair, closing your eyes and tipping your head back against the wall, melting the moment his tongue made contact with your cunt. 

He lapped at you like a man dying of thirst, staring up at you to watch your every reaction. His hands supported you on your shaky legs as he buried himself in your folds. Licking every inch of you, before dipping his tongue into your hole. Quiet whimpers escaped you as you started to grind your hips over him.

“Lo…” You gasped, “Don’t stop-” 

“Wouldn’t dream of ever doing that princess-” He mumbles, eyes growing heavy as he became drunk off your essence.

Your fingers dug into his scalp painfully, and you heard him moan. His lips wrapped around your swollen clit and began sucking, his tongue swirling nonsensical shapes against the bud. He brought a hand to your core, a finger teasing your entrance before he buried it inside you. Your hips thrust forward, grinding over him as he brings you to your peak, lapping up every ounce of your ecstasy as you cry out his name, shaking before him. 

He stood up, picking you up with his hands on your ass, lips crashing onto yours before you could even catch your breath.. You could taste yourself on his tongue and his lips. 

“See how good you taste, princess?” He mumbles against you. You wrapped your legs around his hips, and he carried you back to your bedroom.  

The neon lights of buildings that towered over the casino hotel shone through your window. Shades of red highlighted Logan's face, as your hands caressed him. 

He dropped you onto the bed, before flipping you onto your belly- leaning over you and pressing open-mouth kisses against your neck and shoulders, before his teeth found the zipper of your dress, and tugged it downwards. He pulled the fabric apart, continuing to kiss your back while he began to undress himself. Pulling off the suspenders, he worked the buttons of his shirt and tossed it aside. 

You were flipped back onto your back as he turned his attention back to undressing you. He lifted the hem of your dress up, as you helped him pull it off and get dropped to the side of the bed. 

He stood up, and you sat up with him, eagerly undoing his belt and tugging his pants down until they fell to his ankles, along with his boxers. 

Your mouth watered at the sight of his erect cock. You reached your hand out to press against his belly, admiring the muscles that flexed from his touch. Tracing downwards until you grabbed the base of his cock. You looked up at him for permission.

He smirked. “Go ahead, sweetheart, get a little taste.” 

You smiled at his words, learning forward to dip your tongue into the slit of his tip. You swirled your tongue around his tip, then took it between your lips. 

You heard a harsh breath escape him as he tilted his hips forward, pushing himself deeper into your mouth, his hand going into your hair. 

“Pretty girl…” He mutters. “I was thinking about this when I watched you sing tonight. Thinking about how those pretty lips making those pretty sounds looked on my cock.” 

A moan escaped you, and he pulled out. His hands gently pushed you back down onto the bed, and flipped you once again onto your belly, his arm wrapped around your waist to push you further up on the bed as he clambered after you, the mattress creaking under his weight.

He pushed your face into the plush duvet, angling your hips up. His cock rested against your cunt and you pushed back onto him, wiggling your hips. 

A chuckle escaped him, his hand pressed firmly into your back. “I know you want it baby, I got you.” he coos.

He took his shaft in hand, pushing himself through your folds. He coated himself with your arousal, teasing your hole by pushing his tip in and out of you, until you were whining, full of complaints that made him smirk.

“Logan!” You whimpered, arching your back and spreading your thighs further apart. Your hands gripped the sheets of your bed. 

“That’s what I like to see, beautiful.” He hums as he finally pushes himself inside you. “Pretty pussy’s been begging for me all night hasn’t she?”

He was slow, burying every inch into your pussy as if he was making sure you’d memorized every detail of his cock molding you inside. A deep moan escaped you. 

“There we go…” He purrs, “Big stretch, yeah?” 

You couldn’t even answer. Becoming mindless at the feeling of his cock thrusting into you. Your fingers curled into the sheets as you began mindlessly rocking your hips back onto him.

He settled one hand on your hip, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into your skin, and the other hand on his hip. He slowly pulled out, and back in- creating a steady pace as he watched his cock push into you. He listened to your breathy whimpers, smirking at the way your pussy clenched around him every time he buries himself to the hilt. 

He leaned over you, his chest pressing against your back as his hips became flushed against your ass. A hand snaked underneath you, first stopping to press circles into your nipple, before climbing up to wrap around your neck. He gently squeezed you, delivering a hard thrust just to listen to you cry out.

“Love your voice darling, and your little songs- but fuck do I love hearing those sounds more.”

You tipped your head back, exposing your neck to him. He leaned down, sucking at your skin.

“Care- Careful-” You breathed, becoming semi-aware again. “You already left one mark.” 

“I know.” You could hear the arrogance in his voice. “I told you, sweetheart-” 

His steady thrusts began to go faster, his legs kicked yours farther apart. His free hand pushed down on your waist, keeping your back arched against him. 

“I’m done hiding the fact that you’re mine.” He growls. “Don’t give a shit what that snot-nosed rich boy gotta say about it. So don’t bother being quiet, everyone is going to know tomorrow who you belong to.” 

You cried out as his gentle thrusts became brutal, his grip on you becoming tighter as he grunted. The bed shook with his movements. He turned his head, pressing his lips against your cheek- a gentle reminder of his love for you. 

There was a feeling stirring in the pit of your belly, but before you could focus. His arms came around you, pulling you up onto your knees. One arm wrapped around your waist- your arms pinned at your side, while his other arm wrapped around your neck in a headlock. He continued thrusting up into you, hitting the spot that made you a ragdoll against him.

“C’mon, darling- The neighbors can’t hear you.” He says through gritted teeth. You were rendered speechless- until his hand reached and found your clit and began rubbing firm circles that made your body spasm against him. 

“Oh-!” You cried out. You reached up to bury your nails into his arm that held you in a headlock. “Lo- Patch!” You nearly screamed Logan's name, only to remember that if he wants people to know you belong to him; you have to use his alias. 

You heard him snort through heavy pants. “Good girl-” He grunts. 

“Patch- Please!” You whimpered, 

“Cum for me princess-” He purrs. 

Obeying his words, you came for the second time while he fucked you through it. Your body shook against him, and he let you out of the headlock. You fell back onto the mattress, your body limp and shaking with aftershocks of your orgasm.

His hands grabbed your hips- and he continued fucking into you and not slowing down. You could tell by his breathy pants and the way his thrusts turned sloppy, that he was close- and you were already approaching your third orgasm of the night. Your limbs too weak at this point to do anything, so your laid there as he had his way with you- fucking into you at an incredibly messy pace- your mouth hung open and you nearly started to drool- becoming dumb from his cock. 

He leaned forward, his head resting on your shoulder and he rutted into you, burying himself completely before a harsh grunt of your name escaped him- and you felt the warm feeling of his cum filling you up inside. A loud snikt! was heard, and you opened your eyes to see his fist buried into your mattress. Your sheets were going to need to be replaced now- not that you really minded.

 Breathy moans filled your ear, sending you off once more into your own pleasure while he continues small ruts into you, making sure you’re filled to the brim with him. 

Once finished, he gently pulled out of you, collapsing at your side with a deep groan. 

“Fuck.” He hissed. His hand lazily went to your back, softly stroking it with his knuckles. “You good, baby?” 

“Mm.” You could barely mutter, turning your head to face him with sleepy eyes and a smile. You managed a tired nod. 

“That’s my girl.” 

He took a deep breath and sat up. “Let's get you cleaned up.” 

“No.” You muttered, lazily reaching out to stop him. “Leave it.” 

A devious grin grew on his face, He leaned back with one arm crossed behind his head. Opening the other for you to curl into his side. ”Dirty girl.” he hums under his breath, before turning to press a kiss to your forehead. 

“Logan?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“If…I’m yours, that means you’re mine too, right?” 

Butterflies stirred in his stomach, he looked up at the ceiling. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m all yours.”

[k3n-dyll]

☆Strawberry Crush

Warnings...18+, wlw, loser!Ellie, fem!reader, a few reader descriptions based on the song (lipgloss, nails - nothing body/skin/hair-wise), Ellie is...kind of a stalker, honestly?, porn with a plot, submasc!Ellie, domfem!reader, Ellie is really eager and awkward, sloppy kisses, food play? (strawberry juice is involved), fingering (r!receiving), face sitting, sixty nine

Word Count:3.2k || MDNI Banner Creds. || Donations 4 Palestine

Notes ☆ Kinda hate this but I've had this damn song in my head for fucking weeks and I needed to write something about it (Spotify link in title).Should have done this when my theme was red but fuck it

Ellie's green eyes flit carelessly over the obviously bruised and beaten-up avocado in her hand, turning the bulbous fruit around over and over again as if she's truly considering buying the pitiful thing. There's a slight feeling of mushiness to it that kind of makes the hairs on her arms stand up - whatever poor fuck decides to pick this thing up once she puts it back in its crate is bound to find nothing but brown sludge on the inside.

Each turn of the overripened avocado is accompanied by a 'subtle' look around the market, her gaze fixing to the door each time the little rusted brown bell at the top of the doorframe jingles.

It'd be so embarrassing if she mixed up the time.

Not that this isn't humiliating enough already. Pathetic, even. No one in their right mind drives thirty minutes from home to look this hard, and for this long at an avocado.

On about the fifth bell ring in three minutes she can feel herself getting impatient. Today was Monday, Ellie was sure of that - the farmers from downtown had surely brought freshly picked batches of fruit and vegetables already unless something had gone awry. Maybe she should just head home and stop acting like a fucking crazy person. It's not like the average person keeps on schedule to a T every week. And even if they did, it's worrying that Ellie even knows that schedule. At least this part of it anyway.

Ellie juggles with the thought for a moment but ultimately decides to leave, placing the unfortunate-looking avocado back in its crate. It's just then when that annoying little bell dings again. She knows she shouldn't get her hopes up and yet she can't seem to help herself, looking toward the farmers market entrance to discern who it was that triggered the movement of the brass bell.

The thought that she was just about to leave makes Ellie's stomach turn. She'd have missed you completely. But just like clockwork, every Monday morning, you're here. And just like clockwork, every Monday morning, she gets to see you.

Ellie has given herself every excuse as to why her little habit isn't creepy. She's just trying to hype herself up to actually talk to you, and somehow during that time she also managed to figure out the exact schedule for when fresh produce is brought to this specific market so that she could catch you every Monday doing what you usually do. Buying strawberries.

You like those a lot.

Or, Ellie assumes you do. Why else would you buy them so religiously? Every Monday you come to buy strawberries. Various other things as well but she's noticed you take your time with the berries in particular - inspecting the fruit in each little green basket for at least a few minutes before finding one or two little baskets to buy and take home with you.

Ellie's practiced how to approach you in the mirror in her apartment before leaving the house more times than she'd like to admit, cringing at every little stutter and awkward phrase.

"You come here often?" No. Who the fuck even says that in real life? "So you like strawberries?" Well, duh.

It looks so simple in shows. Her friends make it look like nothing. Then there's Ellie. Reciting cliche lines from movies.

Not that any of that really matters though. Normally by the time you've gone up to check out your items, Ellie has already managed to convince herself that she lost her chance.

Maybe next time

Next time, for sure. But definitely not this time, no. This time she's too distracted by how delicious you look; the sway of your hips, the pretty smile you flash to the staff, the glittery pink tinted gloss spread carefully across your lips.

Your nails are red today, coming to a rounded point.

Ellie's tongue darts out to wet her bottom lip as her mind wanders. Those nails would make such pretty streaks in her back.

For some reason, the thought that she may be shamelessly staring at you doesn't cross her mind. Until it's too late that is. Ellie's eyes widen in absolute terror when your gaze catches hers, face dropping back to the crate of avocados she'd been pretending to look through a moment ago.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

She definitely can't approach you today. Not after you'd caught her staring - no - gawking at you so blatantly. In fact, getting out of this godforsaken market has shot to the very top of her priority list, a task she seeks to accomplish quickly, with her head downcast in shame and embarrassment.

It's just her luck that instead of effectively making it out of the door she stumbles over the dragging, unraveled white laces of the run-down sneakers on her feet, toppling to the floor if not for the similarly misfortuned person she winds up tackling.

"Shit! Sorry, sorry, I-I'm so sorry" she stutters out, cringing at the sight of once unbruised red fruit hitting the hard tile of the market floor. Her eyes meet yours and again she's frozen and embarrassed, a deep shade of red splaying her freckled cheeks and tips of her ears. You would be angry if it weren't for how cute she looked. You sigh.

"It's fine, really. Just...make sure you look forward next time you're walking, okay?" The soft, reassuring smile you offer her as you speak damn near melts her where she stands.

"Right."

There's a beat of awkward silence, Ellie nervousely tugging at her ring and pinky fingers as she gives you a small hesitant nod. "I should-"

"Maybe you could help me pick out some new ones?" You ask quickly, interrupting her, gesturing to the strawberry littered tile.

It's the first time she's spoken to you and given her clear anxiety, she likely wouldn't end up speaking to you on her own again. Ellie nods quickly, mouth slightly agape, though at this point she's lost all of her words. She simply picks up the dropped berries, some of which are now a little flattened and soft on one side from the impact, standing straight once they're all gathered to help you get new baskets.

"You okay?" You ask, as Ellie hasn't said much of anything in the past few minutes.

"Oh, yeah...sorry just...a lot on my mind" she murmurs, quieting back down again as she attentively unpacks your produce.

She doesn't even know how she wriggled her way into this situation. She'd thought for sure you'd call her a freak or a psycho when you let her know you were aware of her little routine. Instead, you just suggested that she help you with the rest of your groceries.

"It's a bit of a hassle trying to bring them up to my apartment alone. Plus...you kinda owe me for the tackle, yeah?"

You had feared the boldness of your invitation may give her pause but Ellie agreed without reluctance.

"A lot on your mind? Like what?"

"Like...how you don't seem unnerved about...y'know." Ellie murmurs, leaning up against your kitchen counter, the little giggle you give in response sending her heart rate up.

"I was honestly just waiting to see if you would actually come speak to me"

"Wait, really?"

You turn to her from where you were organizing things in your fridge, a small bowl of freshly washed strawberries in hand. You set it down, gently sliding the bowl out toward Ellie as an invitation to take one, which she accepts, twisting at the leaves until they come off of the top before biting into it. It's quite large, and very sweet she notices, a bit of juice dribbling down her chin as her teeth sink in, her hand clumsily going to guard any more from falling down.

"Yeah." you answer, to which Ellie raises a questioning eyebrow.

"You're cute, Ellie." you clarify, playfully rolling your eyes at her obliviousness. " And messy"

Before she realizes it, you're in front of her, holding a napkin to her now berry juice-stained chin and neck, readying yourself to pat her dry. Your lips are incredibly close, dangerously so, but she does her best to ignore it, popping the rest of strawberry into her mouth before gently taking your hand in hers to stop you.

"I can- "

"Just let me, okay?" You chuckle a bit, shaking your head. "You really don't know when a girl is trying to flirt with you, huh?"

Ellie blinks, staring at you as if you've just said something ridiculous, her fruit filled cheek almost making her look like a chipmunk in the moment. The insistence on cleaning her up, the invitation to your apartment in the first place, the fact that you don't even seem to question her infatuation with you. It all makes sense now. And she'd taken way too long to notice.

There isn't a thought process behind Ellie's actions this time, just impulse as she leans forward, closing the distance between you both and crashing her lips onto yours. A shiver of shock runs through her as you reciprocate, regardless of how unideal the kiss may seem - cold, sticky fruit juice now being shared between the both of you, creating a thin coat of strawberry and saliva on your connected lips flowing down your chins and slowly making its way to the collars of your shirts.

Ellie pulls back enough to actually swallow what's left of the strawberry and breathe out a quick "I'm sorry", though a part of her is too fascinated by the look of you with transparent red fluid trailing along your skin to be genuinely apologetic.

"I don't mind a little mess." You whisper in response, swiping your thumb along her chin to collect some of the juic. Something about the girl being so desperate to kiss you that she was unconcerned about the inevitable messy nature of said kiss put butterflies fluttering in your stomach. You keep her pressed up against your kitchen counter as you allow yourself to give in to your desires, only dethatching your kiss-swollen lips from Ellie's to press opened mouth kisses along the column of her throat, licking at the sweet red liquid that's almost managed to make its way into the loose, black wifepleaser she's wearing.

"Y-you don't think this is happening too fast?" she questions, despite her clear willingness to let you do as you please, her words coming out between heavy breaths, her entire face painted a rosy shade of pink.

"Would you like me to stop?" You ask, eyebrow quirked upward as you halt your advances and look at her.

Ellie shakes her head immediately at that, tightening her grip around your waist. She can't help but think that was an idiotic question for her to ask anyways. This is finally her chance, and she refuses to fuck up by overthinking everything as she has been up until this point. Your lips connect again with no second guesses this time, Ellie taking her opportunity to slip her hands underneath your top, pulling it over your head. Her mouth takes to your skin, sloppily lapping at the strawberry juice flowing along your neck and pulling your bra straps down enough to expose your breasts.

"Fuck, Ellie"

You slip your leg between her thighs while she's occupied with "cleaning you up" with her tongue, reveling at the way she whimpers and attempts to resist the urge to roll her hips when your knee makes contact with her clothed cunt. Her attempts prove futile, of course, the poor girl huffing and moaning against your skin as she grinds herself against your leg.

"So fuckin' needy, weren't you?" You tease, unable to help the amused laugh that escapes you at the sight of the girl humping desperately at your knee.

All Ellie manages in response is a nod, whining even louder when you press against her harder, the seam of her shorts pushing up against her clit at the right angle, her movements becoming faster and more erratic.

"G'na make me cu- fuck fuck" Ellie's muscles tense for a moment before releasing again, short, ragged breaths and muffled grunts punctuating her last few thrusts against your leg as she finishes in her boxers. Embarrassed, she buries her face into the crook of your neck, her already blushed face becoming redder at her unintended quickness.

"Shit...sorry" She murmurs against your skin, not sure if she should even look you in the eye right now.

You stifle a giggle and shake your head, running your fingers through her soft, auburn hair as a means to reassure her before lacing your fingers with hers. With your free hand, you lift her chin so that she looks at you.

"It's okay. Doesn't mean I'm finished with you."

The softness of your tone seems to soothe her, though the bashfulness still lingers on her features, green eyes casting downward regardless of your words. You press a quick kiss to the tip of her nose, and, fingers still intertwined, lightly tug her away from the kitchen counter on her wobbly legs over to the loveseat in your living room.

You lightly jerk your head in the direction of the sofa, letting go of her hand once she's seated. "Lay down for me baby"

Ellie, in all of her eagerness doesn't so much as hesitate, laying back onto the soft cushions, reaching out as if to pull you down with her. Instead of straddling her like she'd wanted you to though, you stay standing, a mischvieous giggle escaping as you lean down to kiss her on the lips once more before pulling back.

"What's wrong?" She asks, her brows furrowed in confusion.

"Nothing El. Just relax, yeah?" You murmur in response, hands now focused on slipping off your shorts. That's answer enough for her, Ellie's eyes widening a little bit as they fixate on watching your lower body, her tongue darting out to wet her lips as you pull off your shorts and panties in one go. You were soaked, and you make sure to let her know it, teasingly trailing a finger through your folds before pressing it to her lips, Ellie gladly sucking the digit into her mouth without instruction.

"Aw, look at that, I didn't even have to ask"

Ellie just nods, pink lips still caught around your finger. She's well aware of how pathetic she looks right now, but she can't bring herself to care at this point as she's too busy savoring the taste of you on her tongue, eyes damn near rolling to the back of her head off that alone. When you take your finger out of her mouth she whines.

"Wanna taste you more... please"

Her pleading pulls a chuckle from your throat, your finger gently running across her bottom lip as you speak.

"God, you're so impatient, baby. Does my sweet girl want my pussy in her mouth, hm?"

She nods vigorously, grabbing at your hand again to pull you toward her. This time, you oblige, allowing the girl to guide you to sit on her face, her slender hands catching around your hips. She licks a bold stripe along your slit before pressing a kiss to your clit, the amount of times she's thought about doing that exact thing noe finally coming into practice.

Ellie eats at you like a woman starved, lapping up every drop of your arousal, her lips latching around your swollen clit and sucking at it. The sloppy, wet noises coming from her mouth on your cunt, the muffled moaning and whining escaping her - it's obnoxious. But it's the sexiest thing you've seen ina while, her gaze never leaving you as she buries herself closer to you. "This what you wanted, isn't it baby? Spent so much time watching me 'n all you could think about - fuck - was having that pretty mouth pressed up against my cunt like this?"

Your teasing is condescening, your hand tangling into her short locks, forcing her head nice and close as you rut yourself against her tongue. The poor thing can't stop herself from squirming, pressing her thighs together, and for a moment, even detatching a hand from your thigh and snaking it down her own body to slip her hand into her shorts. You don't notice it at first, but when you do, it's clear to her you aren't having it.

"Nuh-uh, none of that, pretty girl." You lift up into a hover above her head, reaching back and wrapping your hand around her wrist to stop her. She whines again, her frustration obvious in the line that forms between her brows. "You wanna ask this time?"

"S-sorry, you're just so fucking sexy, I need you to touch me, please"

You have half a mind to make her wait longer. To pin her hands over her head and prop yourself back onto her mouth, but an idea comes to mind that you can't just ignore. You giggle, giving her a simple 'okay' and before she knows it you've shifted on top of her, settling yourself into a hover over her face again, but this time facing the opposite direction. She can't see what your doing, but she feels it when you start sliding her shorts and boxers down before leaning down and spitting on her already glistening cunt.

"Oh my fucking god..."

Ellie's thighs are shaking around your head already, her hands gripping at the fat of your ass as she pulls you back down onto her mouth. Your muffled cries of pleasure fill the apartment, the vibrations from her moans against you only serving to drive you insane. A thin layer of sweat coats your bodies as you chase a simultaneous orgasm, hips bucking and rolling against each others tongues with primal urgency as that familiar coil tightens within your lower stomachs.

"Fuckfuckfuck- coming, I'm coming" Ellie's mouth detatches from you as she's the first to go, her trembling legs clamping around your head and trapping you against her. She's shockingly quick to replace her mouth with her fingers, slipping them inside of you without warning. She's almost as despereate to have you cum on her face as she was to cum herself, and to her luck, you unravel above her soon after. Her mouth comes back to you are you finish, lapping up every single drop of cum you give her, fingers still lazily pumping in and out of your dripping hole.

It takes a bit to float back down to reality, your head resting limp on her thigh as you slowly start to catch your breath, twitching and shaking too much to actually move on your own. Ellie's not much better, her head plopped down onto the couch cushion, gently kneading your ass with her hands and pressing sleepy kisses to your inner thighs. When you're finally able to move, it's not much, only adjusting yourself enough so that your faces are level, nuzzling your body close so that you can both lay next to each other on the couch. There's a peacful silence between the both of you for a while, your foggy brains still processing how far you'd gotten with one another in the span of a few hours.

"So...you really like me then? Like actually?" Ellie breathes out, a hand lightly rubbing along your side.

You laugh and give her a playful punch to the arm, the fact that she even felt the need to ask that almost comical to you after everything.

"Ow! What was that for?" She asks, feigning as if the light hit actually hurt.

"Of course I like you, dummy" You murmur, kissing her cheek. "I've liked you the whole time"

Reblogs are appreciated ☆ tags: @half-of-a-gay, @porcelainmystery,

[moriitis]

Hi!!! I love your headcanons a lot and I admire your writing so much 🩷

I was wondering, how freaky is Jeff? I love Toby's freak and that got me wondering about Jeff

thank you!

How freaky is Jeff?

Content/Warnings; mentions of blood, implied necrophilia, mentions of sex, boners, unprotected sex, nipples, kissing, porn, porn addictions, knife play, knives, murder.

Jeff would be very different compared to Toby, especially considering he lost his virginity way before he met you. So, he has some experiance. But for Jeff, every sexual experiance he's ever had went to his head, so he proclaims himself as some 'sex god' and thinks he knows the ins and outs of every man/woman. Much like Toby, most (if not all) his sex knowledge would be from porn. Such as positions, down to the way he kisses you and plays with your nipples. I think despite this big ego, deep down he actually doesn't really know how to make anyone orgasm? Most the time, it's just been by chance. He'd go in blindly, do something he saw from some porno and then when you don't react the way he expects you to, he'd be dumbfounded and just work based off your noises alone.

Jeff would be a tits guy, but nothing too big. In fact, he likes them rather small. Which is another big perk if you were a guy, because he has a huge thing for nipples. He loves having the bud between his teeth, sucking on them helplessly until they feel raw. He'd love to give out nipple play but would generally hate to receive it because it becomes too overwhelming for him.

He would absolutely be up for experimenting too. Anal? Fuck yeah and despite the odd comment here and there about how he doesn't receive it, he fucking loves anal. Both giving and receiving. Turns him into a little slut.

Which really moves me onto how much of a slut he is. Jeff, I would see, is 100% a submissive little bitch. Sure, he plays the whole dominant trait well, but deep down he loves being thrown around like nothing. Getting his hair pulled? Getting choked? He loves and craves it all, though he would never admit it. Honestly, I see Jeff being a huge bisexual who loves the ideas of threesomes so go wild.

And I would be stupid to not include the obvious knife play that comes into hand. Only, it would be hard for him to hold back from literally stabbing you. Drawing blood would make him orgasm, taking your life and fucking your dead corpse? Shit, it's a wet dream. Of course, he wouldn't do it, but he'd make the idea known. Like the idea of seeing how scared you look when he mentions it just turns him on.

Jeff can control himself in public too, he doesn't suffer with the random boners as much as Toby does and can calm himself down relatively well. (Mostly because he's too paranoid to be even thinking about sex.) His mental health would absolutely get in the way of his sex life though. He could go months without sex and then not live without it. It's in between but most of it differs depending on his mental state.

Same as Toby, Jeff has got energy. But he wouldn't go round after round, once he's spent he's done. Maybe in like twenty minutes or so, his boner will come back but like I said, it all depends on his mental state.

So, is Jeff a freak? Absolutely, but it's more toned down. Jeff will jack off whether you like it or not and nothing will stop him from doing so. After all, he's still a man and still craves pleasure. If you asked him to stop watching porn, that would be where he crosses the line though. He's an addict, especially for really fucked up porn and stopping would be like you asking him to stop killing innocent folk. Jeff isn't for everyone and being in a relationship with him would suck because he wouldn't stop his bad habits for anyone, shit, not even for himself. I would suggest a more friends with benefits type of relationship with Jeff - that's if the sex doesn't kill you.

[lil--ichigo]

Tf2 Mercs and Their Music Tastes but its period accurate

Scout - Mostly just goes with what's popular. Obviously loves Tom Jones and he is his favorite singer, but I think he also likes a lot of other music. He's a huge fan of Frankie Valli, Elvis, and Chuck Berry. He fawns over romantic music, too. IMO Falling in love with you and its his go to romantic song. I think he'd also like the music his mom listens to, like Frank Sinatra and Etta James. Def also gets into disco during the time skip in comic 7. He probably plays his music very loudly and annoys the base when they're trying to sleep. Poor Engie is always the one who has to tell him to turn it down because scout always wakes him up (I actually hc Dell is one of the better mercs when it comes to a sleep schedule but i'll post about the mercs sleeping habits some other time.)

Soldier - HATES THE BEATLES and considers them hippie music (he hates any kind of anti war music in general) I think hes older so wouldn't be a big fan of the music of the 60s, but moreso the big band stuff of the 40s and some patriotic music of course. He'll throw a hissy fit whenever the others suggest playing something else. The only other merc whose music he can tolerate is Demoman's and Engie's (Unless it's bob dylan, who falls under soldier's idea of "hippie music." But Engie also introduced him to Marty Robbins and the song Ain't I Right so...) Sadly idk much about 40s music so I can't say what he'd like in particular.

Pyro - Out of the mercs, Pyro is the least particular about music. Mostly because I imagine the music in pyroland sounds like The Lovin' Spoonful, Tiny Tim, or the Beach Boys. Even hard rock records will sound like cheerful pop to Pyro. I could see pyro liking psychadelic stuff like sniper outside of that. If Pyro is listening to music, Soldier is not allowed in their vicinity. It happened once, Soldier yelled something about hippie music and the base proceeded to catch fire. That was not a fun respawn for Soldier.

Engineer - Pretty much everyone agrees he's a Johnny Cash fan, so I'm going to go into other artists/bands he'd like. Of course, country music is a given, Dolly Parton, Patsy Cline, Marty Robbins ect. But I also think he'd like Folk, Blues, and Southern rock. Stuff like John Fogerty, or Bob Dylan. So a pretty modern music taste considering his age. I do think he likes some of the older music he grew up with, such as the song Uranium Fever.

Heavy - I don't know anything about the Russian music scene and what was popular, so I can't say what he would have listened to growing up or before he came to America. Tbh I think he mostly listens to whatever. Probably got introduced to glam rock via Medic. I think he likes to listen to classical music like Tchaikovsky or Shostakovich when he reads.

Demoman - Kinda extending my reach of period accurate cause it only really came to prominence during comic 7's timeskip, but for some reason I see him liking a lot of punk rock, not sure why. Maybe because a lot of punk bands were from the UK? I think he'd like the Sex Pistols and The Clash. I Think in general he and Sniper have very similar tastes in music (Specifically in Jazz, stuff like Miles Davis and Nucleus) although Demo likes music that's more upbeat. Specifically, there's this proto-punk band called Death I think Demoman would love, but they were super obscure during tf2s time.

Spy - If pyro is the least particular about music, spy is the most particular, even moreso than Soldier. I heard a spy cover of Frank Sinatra, and him liking him just Clicked? He seems like a fan of swing music to me, and probably gave some records to scout when he was young in hopes he's listen to them when he grew older. Maybe he'd also be into more modern/experimental stuff like The Velvet Underground?

Sniper - Tbh I heavily project a lot of my irl music taste onto him. He also enjoys more popular stuff, but not the kind of cheery stuff scout or pyro like. He's more into jazz and rock (esp the more psychadelic stuff like Jimi Hendrix and Cream cause he def smokes) Mainly the rolling stones, Black Sabbath and The Stooges. Like demo, I could see him liking punk when it starts to become known in the mid 70s. I think he'd be a fan of king crimson and some prog stuff too, but I can also see him thinking it's a bit too experimental and pretentious for him. Also since the tf2 comics ended in 1979 its my hc and I can say he likes joy division and dances when nobody is watching.

Medic - Don't have much to say aside from that man is gay as fuck he absolutely listens to Queen and David Bowie. I think when the mercs argue with what to listen to they end up handing the radio to Medic or Scout tbh.

[stellar-haikyuu]

orange ☆ ennoshita chikara x reader

synopsis: reader is karasuno's second-year manager. during one of their morning trips to a tokyo training camp, something heart-fluttering with ennoshita happens. based on the song "orange" by spyair. details: fluff, ~1.4k words, gn! reader. i referred to characters based on how the reader would probably address them! takes place sometime during the season 2 tokyo training camp arc. warnings: none!

“I will spread my wings and take off straight ahead, Up to those beautiful orange morning skies. There’s only a second left, give me just one more, I beg — Every moment is precious to me like nothing else. I know…”

Although you normally hated waking up at the ungodly hours of the morning, you still buzzed with excitement as you stood in front of the rented school bus. 

You’ve lost count of how many training camps Karasuno has attended now, but each time, you see the team reach new heights. Playing against Tokyo powerhouses truly pushed the team further.

“Are all the members here?” Shimizu asks, walking up to your right. You do a quick headcount, scanning the endearing mix of sleepy and excited boys. “Yes, all twelve are present.” 

Shimizu nods and turns back to Hitoka, who is frantically running through a checklist. You chuckle at her diligence.

“It’s alright, Hitoka-chan,” you reassure the nervous first-year manager. 

“B-but, senpai! It’s- I can’t- the first aid kit,” Hitoka stammers, clutching her clipboard. You look over the checklist Hitoka held and see that the first aid bag is the only item left uncrossed.

Hitoka spins her head around to inspect each bag pile in the driveway. Some of the boys who notice the first-year’s conundrum ask her what’s wrong. 

You’re about to help Hitoka with her search, but that’s when you notice where the first aid bag is.

“Um, Hitoka-chan?” You can’t hide the giggle from your voice. Shimizu locks eyes with you, wearing an amused expression.

“Yes?!” Hitoka whips around immediately.

“You might want to look at the bag on your shoulder.”

Hitoka blinks for a moment before she looks down. She promptly falls to her knees, burying her face in her hands. This takes the entire team by surprise, causing even the sleepy members to startle. 

“It was with me this whole time! I can’t believe this- I’m so sorry! I should be more careful and aware, I caused you guys to worry for no reason and, and-” 

“Take it easy, Hitoka-chan.” You pat her back. “And just in case it did end up missing, there are always nearby convenience stores and pharmacies for supply runs.”

Hitoka quietly wails in frustration, then shoots her head up with determination shining in her eyes. “Okay! I promise to be more observant!” 

You and Shimizu exchange another look, sharing a soft laugh. “I’m sure you’ll be fine,” the third-year says warmly. “Now let’s help sensei and coach load all the bags.”

“Alright, everyone. Last chance for a bathroom break,” you announce to the team, barely suppressing your laughter as you see a few of them visibly consider if they need to go.

After helping Takeda-sensei ensure that nothing was left behind in the parking lot, you realize that you’re the last student to board the bus.

As you step on, you scan the seats. Hitoka and Shimizu are paired up front. Right, it’s their turn to sit together today.

You check the line of single window seats, but all of them are occupied, leaving you confused.

Wait, they always leave one empty for one of the managers…

You find it a little odd that Tanaka and Nishinoya are occupying the single seats in front, totally knocked out. But, whatever, you can take the back seat-

“Would you like to sit beside me?”

Startled, you turn to see Ennoshita looking up at you with a sleepy smile.

“Huh?” you blink.

He pats the empty seat beside him. “No one’s sitting here. Plus, you’ll be right behind Shimizu-senpai and Yachi-san.”

Hitoka looks up at the mention of her name. “Oh! Senpai, I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize you didn’t have a seat left.”

You ruffle her hair gently. “It’s okay, Hitoka-chan. Don’t worry about it.”

Shimizu turns to them and puts a hand on Hitoka’s shoulder. “Yes, she’ll be fine next to Ennoshita.” Her gaze lingers on you for a moment. A subtle but knowing expression crosses her face before she turns away. 

What did that mean?

You sit beside Ennoshita, feeling a flutter in your stomach. You’re used to his presence, but being this close feels different.

“Uh, thanks,” you murmur. 

“No problem, I think the guys forgot that you normally sit there. They’re just sleepy-” The end of his sentence morphs into a yawn and he immediately apologizes.

“So are you,” you laugh. “Get a good sleep.”

“I will. You too.”

You both lean back into your seats as the bus starts to move. As the rumble beneath your feet turns steady, a comfortable silence settles between you. 

You glance out the window, admiring the first rays of sunlight painting the horizon. The orange reminds you of the fleeting beauty of moments like this.

Your eyes follow the trail of light, which falls on Ennoshita’s peaceful face. The sight makes warmth bloom in your chest and spread to the rest of your body. 

Before you know it, your eyes flutter closed.

“Shh, shh, be quiet, they’ll wake up.” 

A series of whispers break through your hazy consciousness, but you keep your eyes closed, wanting to go back to sleep as soon as possible. 

You’re confused when you realize that the bus isn’t moving and you can hear the birds chirping outside.

Maybe it’s a rest stop, your mind supplies. No one’s shaking you awake, even if you can hear footsteps padding up and down. There’s nothing to worry about, so— hang on.

You’re leaning far to your right, slumped against something warm, and there’s a light pressure on top of your head.

Before you have a chance to process everything, you hear a gasp, followed by a shushing sound. 

“Take a picture, quick.” 

“Idiot, my phone makes a loud sound.”

“What if we take one from the front and cover the speaker?” 

“Hm. That’s actually pretty smart.”

“Boys, what are you-”

To their credit, you only hear a quiet, muffled camera shutter sound. Then, you feel the weight next to you shift slightly.

“We’re not saving you if Ennoshita finds out and decides to murder you two.” 

Ennoshita?

“But they’re so cuuuute. I don’t care if I die at his hands for taking this picture.” 

“Dumbass, he’ll make you do extra tutor sessions because you got them in it. Now move dude, I need to pee.”

“Ugh. Don’t snitch on us.”

Suddenly, it clicks. You’re leaning on Ennoshita and he’s leaning on you too. You don’t know how to respond. Well, not that you have to—you’re busy pretending to be asleep, after all. 

“Tanaka, Nishinoya, enough. Don’t wake them up.”

“Yes, Captain.”

Things eventually die down after a few minutes, and you hear the hiss of the bus door closing. 

You suppose you don’t have to worry about going back to sleep, taking comfort in the warmth of the person next to you. 

You find yourself wishing for this moment to last forever.

A gentle hand on your shoulder wakes you.

“We’re here,” Shimizu says, coming into focus as you blink repetitively. There’s a grin on the senior’s face. Another look that seems to mean something.

“Oh…thanks.” You groan a little, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. Although you’re unwilling to detach from your source of warmth, you need to stretch and get up.

Wait…why is it warm?

You freeze. Ennoshita’s still leaning on your side and…one of his hands is holding on to your arm. 

Oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god-

“Ennoshita?” You tap his arm gently. “Hey, we’re in Tokyo.”

“Hmm?”

“We’re here already.” Your face heats up; your teammates sneak glances at the both of you as they pass by the aisle.

Ennoshita inhales to take a deep breath, but right when he’s about to exhale, his body stiffens and he sits upright. 

“Oh my, uh, sorry, I didn’t mean- did that make you uncomfortable?” Ennoshita rushes out an apology, flustered. “I didn’t know-”

“Don’t worry about it!” You chuckle nervously. Really, don’t worry about it.

“I slept way too well,” he rubs the back of his neck. It’s adorable how flushed he’s gotten.

“Well, if it means you’re well-rested, I wouldn’t mind if it happened again,” you say quickly, not realizing how bold the words sound until they’re already out.

Ennoshita’s eyes widen in response.

You feel a little sorry for Takeda-sensei who is still making his way off the bus. He awkwardly whistles to himself, trying his hardest not to eavesdrop.

“Um. Well…that’s if you want to,” you avoid making eye contact with him.

You end up looking out the window behind Ennoshita. The pale yellow of the morning sun feels bittersweet, a reminder that the moment has already slipped away.

But, you’re reminded that every day, the sun rises and falls.

“I’ll take you up on that offer, then.”

masterlist

[fantasy-anatomy-analyst]

Hm you know what, tiny little post about a pet peeve really quick.

I love a good exploration of lifespan differences in fantasy people species. It's tasty worldbuilding, it gives you an instant reason to put tension between the people groups, etc.

In my own stories I have written it so most of the people species age up at similar rates between birth and puberty, and then some of them just have this drastic slowdown in their aging, so they can grow up together and make friends, but then the difference becomes more and more obvious the older they get. I like that it allows for a space of denial where friends, lovers, and blended families pretend it's all okay, until the aging process starts to show its teeth and the crushing reality sets in year by year.

I also love stories like dungeon meshi, where elves take so long to age that an elf can outlive a whole human lifetime before they even hit puberty, putting them at this extreme disconnect from the shorter lived mortals around them, and no way around it.

But where my pet peeve comes in is where a fantasy people group just gets the most inexplicably short lifespan seemingly at random. I see this mostly in roleplay games like dungeons and dragons. And not in a "well the average age of pre modern humans was low because of high infant death rates and a lack of good medicine" way.

They have fixed it so most dnd player races now live to be 75-100 years old if theyre not, like, elves or whatever. but the aarakocra used to only have a lifespan of 30 years. And I know they're based on eagles, but I just couldn't help wondering why the fantasy bird people with their own civilization lived shorter lives than the average captive parrot. It seemed a bit silly. I'm glad they've fixed it.

There are good reasons to vary your people's lifespans! I love to see it. And yes, lots of people dying young affects the average life expectancy. But make sure you consider whether or not the lifespan you're working with allows your fantasy people to have a good chunk of time where they're adults with healthy bodies. Because if they are growing to maturity and then dying of old age all in just three decades, (which is how old I turn this year) it needs to have some real impact on what their culture and civilization look like.

Which is hard to portray in a ttrpg, so I'm not gonna nitpick on that one too much. Dnd changes with every group that plays it. That's the nature of roleplay.

I actually do have a people species with incredibly short lives who are remarkably more technologically advanced than the longer lived folks around them. It's my pixies, with a life expectancy of about 10-15 years for the comon worker caste. They're giant bees. They have a weird magical hive memory thing going on. So obviously I don't hate any setting with people groups who live short lives.

The aarakocra problem for me was just that I know a captive parrot can easily live several decades, some even outliving a human caretaker, so a sapient bird folk barely having half that life expectancy while also presumably having their own civilization with decent healthcare and such was very odd to me. I think sapient people should probably be able to outlive a related non sapient animal. (Non related species are a different matter, of course)

Anyway. That's my little ramble on that lol.

[dervampireprince]

Hi hi!! I had a purely curious question/thought for you

I know the OCs that you post are the ones that you voice act, but I was wondering if you had any other OCs that you don’t post?

sure! i got lots. i've been drawing and writing about my ocs my entire life, my audio ocs aren't only ocs nor are they the only ocs i draw or write about. if anyone's interested in my other ocs, all my ocs are on my toyhouse page and i have more than just my audio ocs on art fight. and some of them have pages on my fanworks museum because i have talked about them in my discord, on stream, have some up in art fight, all my ocs are on toyhouse, and i've posted about some on my sfw blog before. if i ever make nsft content with them it'd go on here, and there are some non-audio ocs i have that i'm considering voicing someday.

here's a handful of my non-audio ocs:

barnaby and o-554 (aka 'oscar'). what if a vampire and an 80s pc that became sentient fell in love? i made them last year just before art fight because i really love hal900 and had recently found out about edgar from electric dreams and i wanted to have my own ocs with a robot x human romance but more specifically a robot that has a non-human body. and with barnaby being a vampire, they both get to be immortal. i'm so happy how many people on art fight instantly drew them.

masque (aka my monster boy band). a group of ocs i'm still working on (got two members of the band left to finish designing) that i've talked about here before as i want to make audios with all of them. a visual kei inspired rock band but all the members are based on classical gothic literature monsters.

toontown corporate clash ocs. i have my main toon 'prince teddy' that i play as, but i also made this boy just because i wanted an oc to ship with litigator. and lance aaa i love, i really have been wanting to draw him lately beyond just this ref sheet.

supernatural oc. did i make august just so he could kiss lucifer... maybe.

ghost ocs. solas is in the middle of being a lil redesigned, i initially wrote that his angel form was similar to a lion but i hate that idea, i'm going to edit his ref sheet to retract that. drew him on stream on wednesday.

bongle and spade. so i was messing around on aidn.jp/wowa while live on twitch and was showing chat how it worked and drew a random cat anthro as an example. chat liked the silly doodle, i asked for names for him and green_fogg named him bongle, and oops he became an entire oc. spade is a random guy i doodled when doing warm up sketches based on loveletterworm's character idea generator and after i made bongle i thought 'wouldn't it be funny it they were in the same world and bongle annoyed spade and also they've fucked'.

mori. my beloved baby. if you've ever popped in on stream, i have a picture of an ikea alien plush on my overlay. that's mori. i have him irl, he arrived on a sad day for me, and he's been one of my best pals since. and i wanted to draw silly images of him for my website but my brain said 'make him an oc' and then this happened a couple weeks ago.

but yeah that's just a few, i have more fandom ocs and more fully original ocs and other stories. i have this big high fantasy story i've rewritten multiple times and i'd love to finalise all those characters designs one day and maybe even turn them into audio ocs because they mean a lot to me. but we'll see. not all of these will ever become audio ocs, and it's nice to have ocs that aren't also used for work. but yeah i love making and designing characters, especially drawing clothes, and like i said if anyone's every curious they're all on my toyhouse along will all my drawings of them. i'm dervampireprince on toyhouse, you don't need an account to see my characters.

[this blog is 18+, minors dni]

[spireofdeceit]

I'll just make a half coherent post so I don't have to haunted by it for another week. I'll reiterate ideas about beasts I've been saying here and there, in it's own post.

As of now, the story with the beasts and ancients is nearly the best Devsisters have worked with. Weirdly, they took a very popular trope of a good guy having an evil version of them, and then. Understood the assignment. With some misses, but mostly hits, Beast Yeast has been an absolute banger, and I've got a lot of excitement for the story I didn't think I'd ever have for cookie run again.

So. As of right now, with Shadow Milk's chapter conclusion, we have a quite solid pattern of writing Beasts and the conflict with the Ancients. Instead of dancing around it, I'll just bullet point what seems to be the main themes:

Mortality and immortality: Beasts were made into immortality, ancients were not. That leads to fundamentally different experience that either party had. Unlike ancients, who earned their immortality (then godhood), Beasts ARE gods who were unable to understand cookies they were made to serve.

Nihilism and hopefullness: Beasts had lost their hope in cookiekind, falling into bitterness, hatred and despair. It is a sign of being unable to cope with very human, mortal experiences (loss, conflict, desires, greed, love), unlike Ancients who had lived, loved, lost, grew, and who will not lose their hope for people and the better future and will keep fighting for it.

From the above comes out the point I'm gonna call I WAS DESTINED TO LOVEHATE YOU: Beasts believe that Ancients genuinely stole part of their power, instead of being punished for going rogue on their purpose from the witches. BUT. Beasts believe the Ancients are just foolish for standing with their beliefs, as Beasts have seen the truth, the reality of things, they """understand""" that Ancients virtues are futile - and they WANT to change their mind, get them on their side or destroy them in the process, prove them wrong. Whether you want to admit it or not, they're factory made narrative foils who were destined to understand each other like nobody else, but never going along on the same path, see ⬆️.

I HATE MY FOLLOWERS: Beasts do not care for their followers as much as followers care/worship their beasts. Re: Nutmeg Tiger is a general upholding a status quo based on strength and authority, believing in Burning Spice representing her worldview; however, Burning Spice does not care for neither her, nor the wild spices, or the showmanship of power; Candy Apple and Black Sapphire find entertainment in trickery, rumors, lies that hurt people, for which Shadow Milk, actually, doesn't care that much - what Shadow Milk wants ultimately is a perfect world where lies and truths cannot be told apart, BECAUSE cookies lie, because truth hurts, because he hates Knowing; as far as his henchmen can entertain him, they are the kinds of people that made him "open his eyes" to the cookies "true" nature.

Friendship: Beasts, I don't think, actually were ever friends. Part of a pantheon, sure, but not comrades the way you imagine friends to be. Ancients met, got to know each other, care for each other, and that care is being used against them (especially in case of White Lily and Dark Enchantress being used as a mockery of their friendship). Beasts who may have cared for something before, have not actually experienced actual real friendship.

As of right now these are the main things that seem to be consistent with the Beasts, and I'm looking forward to how true it stands in the future.

I'll put my Silent Salt and Eternal Sugar speculations and ramblings below.

So, most of us agree Eternal Sugar is the next beast, right?

ES had a virtue of Happiness that turned into Sloth, and Hollyberry will be opposing her, with her Passion. It's very interesting concept to play around, her unyielding love and trust in people, her protectiveness.

In one of my nuked forever to be lost posts I've considered the idea of Eternal Sugar being based on Dionysus, and as of rn I still Sorta stand by it, telling what Exact inspiration for her is is hard. She kinda looks like a Muse to me, too.

Possibility is, Happiness is very often borderlining with exhaustion, overexposure to things that make you happy Can ruin your life, whether it's food, hobbies, people, too much of it will hurt you in one way or another if it's all you focus your life on - no good thing can be eternal. But what if you just keep trying anyway? Never stop the happiness? Turn it into a fatigue?

Keep getting sweets until you can no longer take it. You can have as much sugar as you like, never ever ever stop it, be happy, stay, don't move.

It can come to the point of not bothering at all. Happiness is in sloth.

Why would you bother with saving anyone, Hollyberry cookie? Don't you see they're happy in their fatigue? If they stay, no danger comes to them. Stop trying. Give up. Just rest.

As for ES followers, we can get a cookie themed around hedonism, not saying no to your wishes, persuading our heros to give in to their desires. Maybe some cookie based off of greek myth, a Titan, that would be neat. The point I expect is for them to be unapologetically unbothered and enabling ES's spiral like the rest of the followers do.

As for Silent Salt, I had my assumption on some myth but I don't remember what it was. I remember it was a nordic god. Their virtue of Solidarity was turned into Silence, which is incredibly scary and exciting. They oppose White Lily's Freedom.

I have high hope for them to have a connection to Shadow Milk in a bit of a more meaningful way than the rest of the beasts do with each other. The matching theme of a knight and a jester generally just kind of tracks.

I think it's interesting the way Solidarity and Freedom seems to often correlate, but that's not the case.

My assumption is that Silent Salt was a warrior that stood for the interests of the people, for peace and righteousness and justice, solving conflicts among cookies that couldn't solve them on their own. Why it turned into Silence, I wonder.

Could be the fact that you will never please everyone, there will be betrayals, back stabbers, liars. Can you truly stand along with someone for a common goal, can you truly find a common ground with someone when you feel like your needs are going ignored.

How it could tie into Shadow Milk - is Silent Salt, perhaps, realizing the futility of their purpose, perhaps they know the ultimate purpose of cookies, and found it too overbearing to ever care for the cookiekind wellbeing. To Shadow Milk speaking too much, Silent Salt prefers to not at all.

Can't tell exactly what their perfect world could be. Probably a barren wasteland, or cookies hiding and never coming out - not to be eaten by witches, or be stroke by Silent Salts sword.

White Lily cookie found the truth that turned her into a grieving, bitter, furious monster. You could argue Dark Enchatress is White Lily's own beast form, separated from her. There could be speculation on how full White Lily feels as a person without that hatred and grief that Dark Enchantress took. But White Lily ends up being the bearer of guilt, overbearing, eldritch horror of Knowing - and how really free is she now, and if she dares to speak, how many people will stand with her in Solidarity? How many are standing with Dark Enchatress? And what that Freedom her half is fighting for has brought? Pain. Loss. Bitterness.

You are fighting for a world unachievable. Your beliefs are futile, and you have done nothing but bring misery to the cookiekind you claim to love by fighting.

Stay quiet. Let the knowledge be your own burden to bear.

Silent Salt I reallyyyyy struggle to imagine having any followers. Any epics we get on that event could probably be on the side of the heroes. Maybe ONE of them who knows their ways around the land of Silent Salt, but that's all.

[seladorie]

in my current ck3 game:

start as Duchess Matilda of Tuscany. murder my stepbrother husband gotfried successfully with no one finding out, marry instead the King of Sicily's disinherited son Bohemond who has the Robut trait

he's gay but we become friends and really i'm a busy woman who has a lot of land to conquer and things to do so it works great

we have three beautiful sons. confederate partition will be annoying with three sons, but i resign to having to reconquer some land. at this point, i have the kingdoms of italy, romagna, and also hungary for some reason.

my husband bohemond has regained his inheritence and received the duchy of apuila when his father passed. neat

my husband's brother becomes the king of silicy and he is tragically murdered by my husband who then inherits the kingdom. cool! our eldest son will unit our kingdoms

my second son dies! sad. less to worry about with the confederate partition

le gasp! my eldest son was behind the murder of my second son! how could he? sure, it's exactly what i would do and would have done if Matilda had the sadistic trait and could murder her own children (though I probably would have killed the first and third sons and kept the second son since he got the Robust trait like his father)

i have no choice but to disinherit my eldest son and his four children. while i can employ kinslaying in my machinations and plots, i can abide family members turning against each other without my say so

third son is the sole and only heir! huzzah

you'll never guess what happens next

third son is murdered at his own wedding by my eldest son! :o

with no other choice, i restore my eldest son's inheritence. the dynasty and house matters more than little things like kinslaying after all

Matilda dies of old age. her eldest son, Niccolo, inherits everything

first thing he does is train for a tournament. he dies when it goes wrong

Niccolo has four children, one son and three daughters. his son, Aleramo inherits everything

Okay so. everyone hates Aleramo. he's sadistic. Almost immediately at the start of playing him, he becomes excommunicated by the pope. to be clear, Matilda didn't get excommunicated even when she went to WAR with the pope in order to seize rome so she could have a better realm capital and also a holy site so she could consecrate her bloodline.

Also at some point the Holy Roman Emperor granted me independence. Even though being excommunicated is a crime, I no longer have a liege to be beholden to who could threaten to imprison me

great! no problem then. the vassals are annoying but i crush them with an iron fist

all things considered, Aleramo does pretty well. He forms the Empire of Italia, generally is pretty good to his vassals so they like him more, goes to war a couple more times with the Pope since he's already excommunicated before repenting for his crimes and no longer being excommunicated before dying as a leper

he and his wife only has one child, a daughter named Filomena who inherits everything. while Aleramo is a sadistic prick, he's pretty soft on his daughter and lets her marry for love (which is a mod, not base game).

She's set up to do pretty well! And I'm excited to be an Empress, they're always fun

we still have the kingdom of hungary for some reason

[hughiecampbelle]

Succession Preference: Dating Baby Matsson

Requested: if you want to, could you write a preference of roy siblings x mattson!reader? - anon

A/N: I love thisssss my love!!! I hope you like it!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

Connor is as far from the Gojo deal as possible. He quite literally don't give a fuck who Lukas is which makes him perfect for you. You meet at the election party, pretty far into his campaign. He doesn't notice that you came in with your brothers crew, only that your glass is empty and it needs refilling. At the party Connor tells you all about his presidential campaign and what he's trying to represent. In turn, you tell him about this silly tech conglomerate company you work for. He just adores when you speak Swedish, telling him the best swears and phrases. From there you two text and call a lot, all behind your families backs. None of them even know you've begun seeing one another seriously until Lukas is signed as CEO and you're standing there, beside him, holding Connors hand. His family is furious, as is your brother, but neither of you care. Connor is funny and sweet and a bit oblivious, but what child of a billionaire isn't?

Kendall meets you after your brother invites them to Norway. You stay hidden, not really part of the deal, but he notices you anyways. Kendall claims it was love at first sight for him. He wanders, hoping to bump into you. When he does he's quick to start the conversation. You being related to Lukas, let alone his baby sibling, doesn't even begin to cross his mind, not until Lukas finds you out in the dark together, under the stars, huddled close. He makes it known he doesn't like what's going on and orders you inside. You do as you're told, not before you slip Kendall a paper with your number on it. He calls you the second he can and your relationship develops from there. After the deal goes through, you know your relationship will never be the same. He's hurt. Deeply. Pretending it didn't happen or ignoring it won't do any good. It definitely puts a strain on your relationship unfortunately.

Shiv is infatuated with you. From the moment she sees you standing by Lukas' side, she knows she has to talk to you. You make it pretty easy, seeking her out as well. You're not sure how it happened, only that it did and there's nothing your brother can do about it. You see one another a lot now that she's helping your brother. You joke that she's only doing this to see you which Lukas doesn't like at all. Especially since he's considering dropping Shiv, he knows it won't end well. In the end you're signed as CEO and Shiv puts on the facade that she couldn't be happier. You feared she would leave you, that your relationship would be ruined, but she's all smiles. Underneath she's furious. She hates Lukas. She can't hate you, she loves you, but she definitely isn't happy about this switch. You tried to tell her, warn her before she got her hopes up. He wanted to keep it in the family. Surely Shiv would know a thing or two about that.

Roman he's so handsome you and Roman are like two weird, off-putting peas in a pod. Based on these ideas which I love, Baby Matsson isn't at all like their brother. They're strange and weird and a teensy bit scary. He knew from the moment he saw you he wanted to be with you. You scared Frank and Karl and that made you deeply interesting. Your relationship isn't like a normal relationship. There's biting and play-fighting and saying things that only make him laugh. Lukas doesn't love that his baby sibling is with Roman of all people, but at least he knows you're his problem now while he figures out the Gojo deal. You're two strange, deeply faulted people who found one another in a stressful time in your lives. When he's not yelling at your brother in Norway he's sneaking off to be with you in the woods where you take away the stress, the nerves, the hurt. You're his rock through the funeral and even after the deal goes through, you sit with him at the bar and make him laugh with all the ways your brother could end up dead.

Bonus! Lukas fucking hates anyone being interested in you, but a Roy? Are you dumb? Are you blind? You could do a hell of a lot better than one of them, no matter how strange or off-putting you might be. He's got important work to do and you're getting in the way of that. Even before he died Logan wasn't too fond of the relationships you made with his child, but at the end of the day he couldn't stop you. He thought feelings got in the way of good business. So does Lukas. The difference between them is he can lock you away where they can't find you, Logan doesn't have that power. You're smarter than that though, telling him only after things are serious. You're an adult, you remind him, you can do whatever you like, including being with them. He can go fuck himself, a phrase that sounds too Roy-like.

[sloowoorants]

Thoughts After Watching Hannibal

About two months ago, I saw some Hannibal fan art on Twitter. It looked pretty cool, and I just so happened to have some free time, so I thought: why not watch the show? It's just a normal crime thriller, right?

I expected the type of show that's relatively light yet still intriguing, filled with sarcastic humor, starring a typical grumpy-but-genius protagonist. (This is vaguely the type of show that I’m generally into: Inside Job, Sherlock, House, Suits, Mr. Robot….)

I was so, so wrong.

Nothing, and I mean nothing, could have prepared me for the bat-shit crazy fever dream of a show that Hannibal is: bizarrely artistic gore, incessant cannibalism puns, completely unpredictable romantic subplots, torturous sex scenes that feel like angry acid trips, a multitude of absolutely unhinged psychiatric conduct, esoteric cryptic dialogue which require five google searches and a whole thesaurus to understand, two lesbian murderers "milking" a guy for his sperm to inherent his family heirloom, long scenes of intense and unabashed eye-sex, clumps of dog fur sticking to sweaty bed sheets…and a literal fucking social worker crawling out of a horse, alive and breathing and everything, covered in whatever acrid substances come from a horse uterus.

I ended up watching all of Hannibal in a week, hastily devouring it in just a few sittings.

In no way am I a professional film analyst or critic, but after having stayed up for nights on end, every single one of them spent under my blanket binging episodes until devilish hours of dawn (and barely comprehending the plot from the sheer speed I was consuming the show at, but also from sleep deprivation), I have cultivated a skull full of thoughts on this blessed masterpiece, and I need to rant about it. Which is exactly what this post is.

I am going to separate this ranty-meta-ish thing (I think a “meta” is what it’s called? I’m not sure, I don’t use Tumblr a lot) into two parts: one, about the representation of morality in the show, and two, about the intimacy between Will and Hannibal. It’s not super well written, my grammar is a bit iffy, but I hope you still enjoy reading this, and remember to take everything I say with a grain of salt. After all, I am just some guy with unrestricted internet access, a keyboard, and a little too much passion for the media I love :)

Part One: Hannibal Lecter’s Morality

Hannibal loves art. There is no episode in the entire show where he doesn’t reference some artistic thing—He plays the piano, he plays the theremin, he frequents the opera, he draws, and he finds peace at the birthplace of the Renaissance, Florence. His love for art is why he kills, he transforms people he considers to be “inferior” and “ugly” and elevates them into art. He is acting out his own sense of justice, creating meaning from the meaningless.

In a way, he must have a certain degree of respect for his victims to do what he does. He could have just killed people and disposed of their body in a dumpster, but that’s not his style. Even if he doesn’t “care” about his victims in a traditional sense, there’s this unique honesty and attentive in his murders. Hannibal cares enough about his victims to make them art. And I’m not just talking about the way he displays their bodies, I’m also talking about his cooking, because a big part of art is also cuisine.

He follows a strict code of his own ethics, it’s almost like he’s acting out his “duty” to kill, to eradicate and transform the lesser “scum” of the world. To be killed by Hannibal is almost an honor, like being killed by God personally, skin to skin. Wouldn’t you feel a sense of divinity and fulfillment if God killed you with his own hands, knowing that he respects you enough to choke you himself, then turn you into an elegant display? Every kill of Hannibal’s is filled with passion – Which poses the question, does he kill out of hatred or not? When I think of violence fueled by hate, I think of sex or race based violence. But that’s not Hannibal. He kills victims he considers to be rude, yes, but is it a humiliation? Is it degradation?

This whole "elevate-swine-into-art" thing is also shown through the way that gore is generally portrayed throughout the show, and not just Hannibal’s murderers. It’s very interesting the way gore pretty in Hannibal. It’s often meticulous. It’s meaningful.

These murders are all aesthetically pleasing. For me, it creates a cognitive dissonance: on one hand, I know that these are painful, brutal murders, one the other, they’re kind of nice to look at, which makes me think—Have I ever for a second, while watching Hannibal, considered the crime scene to be beautiful? Have I ever viewed one of those scenes as art rather than gore? As an artist myself, do I understand Hannibal’s obsession with beauty? And if so, what type of person does that make me?

And I love the way this show makes us really think in Hannibal’s shoes, because of how unconventionally it portrays him as a villain. Usually, shows will provide villains with a backstory, but that doesn’t extend beyond just creating sympathy. In Hannibal, the villain is humanized. We understand him. We empathize. And what does that make of us?

Have I ever, in all seriousness, rooted for Hannibal instead of Jack Crawford? Have I ever thought someone deserved to die in the show? Have I ever looked at what Hannibal was cooking, and thought it looked delicious, despite knowing that its human flesh? Have I ever been annoyed at innocent patients of Hannibal, like Franklyn, because I viewed them from Hannibal’s perspective?

On top of that, Hannibal’s philosophy makes sense. I find myself agreeing to a lot of the things he says.

For example, this dialogue from S2e12 "Tome-Wan", when Will finds Mason Verger and Hannibal in his house, and Hannibal asks Will if he should kill or spare Mason Verger:

HANNIBAL: Murder or mercy?

WILL: There is no mercy. We make mercy, manufacture it in parts that have overgrown our basic reptile brain.

HANNIBAL: Then there is no murder. We make murder, too, it matters only to us. You know too well that you possess all the elements to make murder. Perhaps mercy, too. But murder you understand uncomfortably well.

Does Will only have the capacity for mercy because he has the capacity for murder? Does mercy only have meaning in the context of murder? Is our own compassion a reflection of our violence?

With that said, are the things that I believe to be evil still evil when I throw away my moral believes? Is morality only meaningful in my own perception? And if so, how much am I contributing to evil if I am the one judging it? Do I create the evil that I so adamantly detest? Does deciding what is murder and isn’t not murder require the ability to, and intrinsic understanding of, murder? Can the morality of life and death be so clear cut, separated into different categories?

These are the types of questions that the show makes me ask, which is part of the reason I love the show so much.

I also love how the show puts a dark turn on empathy. Empathy is way too often portrayed as one of the best traits of all time, many claim it to be the most important aspect of mankind, but Will’s empathy is what ends up making him go on a downwards spiral: He is drawn to the darkness because he can understand it. He chose to teach at the FBI academy because he gets to feel like a killer without actually killing.

It made Will miserable, being able to understand killers. It gave him all sorts of guilt and self-hatred and confliction, which was why he was so damn miserable at the start of the show. And on top of that, no one really cared about him, Alana only had a whole “professional curiosity” thing going on (yes, I know that Alana’s character is one-dimensional because Hannibal’s female characters are poorly written, but even with that in mind, I still think that a huge part of Alana’s affection towards Will was in fact just curiosity), Jack was constantly pushing Will past his limits, so the poor dude didn’t have any connections to anyone until he met Hannibal.

And after Hannibal clocks him immediately when they first meet with the whole “your  values and decency are present yet shocked at your associations” situation, Will experiences his first kill: Shooting Garet Jacob Hobbs. Ten. Times. Then he confesses to Hannibal that he liked the feeling of killing him.

But Will can’t let go of his morality, it’s the only thing he’s been able to hold on to this entire time. It’s his lifeline. He holds onto it so dearly because he needs to convince himself that he’s a good person, that he’s not a killer, and that he’s doing the right thing. Yet, he knows that letting that morality go would be so freeing. He wants to. Hannibal helps him let go of it, and we as viewers can’t help but be on Hannibal’s side, because Will’s corruption arc is so gratifying. We like it, deep down we root for it. And what does that say about our relationship with our own morality? Does our morality tie us down? Do we crave to be free?

Will’s killing style is different from Hannibal’s, though. He’s passionate, reactive, and he doesn’t care about the process of killing, or the display body (before you say “the firefly man”, I believe he was imitating Hannibal’s style instead of curating his own), as long as the person is dead. He kills them from a sense of righteousness, like a vigilante justice. Was it wrong for him to find a sense of pleasure in killing Garett Jacob Hobbs? Does finding pleasure in killing corrupt his righteousness? Is it worse to kill out of passion, or kill meticulously? Is Hannibal’s style of killing more respectful? Is Will brutal? Just because Will kills out of a more conventional moral judgement and Hannibal doesn’t, does that make him better than Hannibal?

Another way the show convolutes the concepts of good and evil is using religious symbolism.

For example, from S1e02, “Amuse-Bouche”:

HANNIBAL: Killing must feel good to God too. He does it all the time, and are we not created in His image?

WILL: Did God feel good about killing?

HANNIBAL: He felt powerful.

(Shocking that this line was from the literal second episode. This show got intense so fast.)

And Will’s quote from S3e02, “Primavera”:

WILL: God can't save any of us because it's...inelegant. Elegance is more important than suffering. That's his design.

Is God an artist? Does that justify what He does? Are we only creating taboo out of His works to comfort ourselves? What does it mean to view the world with a purely aesthetic vision?

It’s these quotes that really allow me to see from Hannibal’s perspective: To him, there is no ultimate purpose of the world, there is no end goal to achieve, just the creation of beauty, and that’s terrifying to think about. Even as an atheist, it’s hard to digest the belief that there is no purpose to anything. We spend our entire human lives looking for meaning. But Hannibal doesn’t see it that way. Life and death are just futile processes to create art, and there’s no bigger point behind it. The cycle of life is supposed to be art. In a way, he’s like the God (sounding like Hannibal here), giving people meaning by making them into art, just like how God designates meaning onto every creature he makes.

And the show has a lot of art parallels, not just with Hannibal’s murders. Here are some that I’ve noticed:

(Parallels, in order from left to right, top to bottom: Nude From Back by Picabia compared to a shot of Bedelia from the back, The Persistence of Memory by Dali compared to Will’s clock drawing, Le Double Secret by Magritte compared to how Will saw Hannibal after visual overload from light therapy, Ophelia by Millais compared to Bedelia sinking into the bathtub, Portrait of Pablo Picasso by Juan Gris compared to Will’s hallucination of himself falling apart in a mirror, Ivan the Terrible and His Son Ivan by Ilya Repin compared to the cliff scene.)

I’m not the only one that has noticed these. Here is cool blog that focuses on artistic references in Hannibal, they’ve also noticed some of the ones I noticed: The Art of Hannibal.

Bryan Fuller probably didn’t do these on purpose while directing. But it still unintentionally solidified this theme artistic divinity. So I think Bryan must, to some extent, understand Hannibal’s obsession with making art out of death, because of the way art is subconsciously woven into the show. I don’t know though, just food for thought.

Anyways. Will, at the end of the show, while being cradled in Hannibal’s arms, both of them covered in blood that appears black in the moonlight, says to Hannibal: “It’s beautiful.”

And all that morality fleets and becomes insignificant in the face of aesthetics.

To Hannibal, beauty is moral. To Will, morality is beautiful. Have the lines begun to blur?

Part Two: Hannibal and Wills intimacy

“For [Hannibal and Will], two people who have been wandering their whole lives through a world in which they have not really experienced any viable form of connection with another human being—because they’re two extremely unusual people—and then they meet.”

-Hugh Dancy quote from SDCC 2013

Hannibal loves will. He drew him and Will as Patroclus and Achilles. He was ready to run away with Will in S2. He surrendered himself in S3 just because Will rejected him. And lets not forget the little twitch in his face when Francis attacks will. And when this dialogue happened (S3e12, “The Number of the Beast is 666”):

WILL: Is Hannibal in love with me?

BEDELIA : Could he daily feel a stab of hunger for you and find nourishment at the very sight of you? Yes. But do you... ache for him?

It is my belief that Will also loves Hannibal, although I understand that it’s not as agreed upon in the fandom as Hannibal’s love is. I think Will is just a little bit more reserved with affection, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love Hannibal.

But one thing is for sure—there is a lot of homoeroticism in the show:

So, whether you think the love is reciprocal or not, the show is still, to put it lightly, really gay.

Hannibal’s love for Will is dark, possessive, powerful. Will is the only one that is capable of understanding Hannibal, and Hannibal was willing to risk literally everything just for Will to connect with him. He goes to extraordinary lengths just to make Will a murderer.

But even throughout Hannibal’s ruthless manipulation, which Will eventually becomes aware of, Will still stays for Hannibal. Because deep down, Will was willing to give up his own innocence to have that connection. Because Hannibal was the only person that could really understand Will too, no one else would be able to accept his dark tendencies.

S2e02, “Sakizuke”:

WILL: I don’t know which is worse. Believing I did it, or believing that you did it and did this to me.

(I remember reading a really good post by endlessly fascinated on how Will was actually being manipulative by saying this quote. I can’t find it though. If someone finds it, please tag me!)

Will eventually grows just as obsessed with Hannibal, as Hannibal is obsessed with him. Proof: telling Jack that he wanted to run away with Hannibal, telling Hannibal that he can’t get him out of his head, and that his inner voice is starting to sound like him him, and the “where would I go?” when Hannibal tells him not to leave his side, and the “one could argue, intimately” when Chiyoh asks him how he knows Hannibal, and the “before you and after you” when Hannibal asked him where the difference between the past and the future come from…I could go on forever. Will has never felt so grounded before, not in the way when he’s with Hannibal, with him, Will can see his own reflection, and he’s never been able to see that before.

And oh, the love language between them is violence. Will tries to kill Hannibal (someone tell me how many times, I forgot), and Hannibal tries to eat Will and a plethora of other fucked up shit. But in my eyes, none of those were out of hatred. Both of them trying to murder each other is out of love, out of acceptance, and out of forgiveness.

S3e06, “Dolce”:

HANNIBAL: You dropped your forgiveness, Will.

HANNIBAL: You forgive how God forgives.

And, S3e03, “Secondo”:

BEDELIA: Betrayal and forgiveness are best seen as something akin to falling in love.

HANNIBAL: You cannot control with respect to whom you fall in love.

No one can control who they love, or who they forgive, which is why Hannibal forgives Will and stabs him in the same breath. He is forgiving, not letting go.

Will forgives Hannibal too. He forgives Hannibal way too many times, throughout all the manipulation of Hannibal. Think about just how much insanity he’s endured: drugged, gutted, encephalitis abused, hypnotized, framed for murder, a serial killer was sent after his family, had his brain literally almost eaten, and despite all that, Will still forgives Hannibal—it was not a conscious decision. We cannot control who we forgive.

If Hannibal is a fallen angel, then Will is God to him. And God is indifferent, sometimes even cruel. Like Hannibal said himself, good and evil has nothing to do with God. Will forgives Hannibal, but that doesn’t mean he still doesn’t want to hurt Hannibal; just like how Hannibal forgave Will, but still gutted him. In that moment, Will forgave indifferently, so he could get back to revenge. They both forgive like blades, they both forgive with pain.

Doesn’t God forgive through punishment? God will forgive you for your sins but you still have to go to hell, right?

Violence is a pillar of stability in their relationship, it’s how they understand each other, an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, the smile on Will’s gut a permanent reminder of Hannibal’s hurt, and all of Hannibal’s scars a reminder of Will’s hurt.

I see all of their trying to kill each other is affection. Hannibal doesn’t try to eat Will because he hates Will, he tries to eat to immortalize him, to keep Will as part of him forever.

And through that violence, Hannibal helped Will let go of his morality. Will had spent forever trying to repress himself—Molly was a failed attempt to escape into normalcy. Will definitely thought about Hannibal those years Hannibal was in prison.

S3e13, “The Wrath of the Lamb”:

HANNIBAL: When life becomes maddeningly police, think about me. Think about me, Will.

Will definitely missed the hunger, the violence. We can see this though the passionate way he killed the Red Dragon. He probably held Molly’s gentle hands and desperately wanted to feel something more. To feel something dangerous. Something that could simultaneously revive and ruin him. Molly never understood him the way Hannibal did, and he will never love her the way he loves Hannibal.

He did think about Hannibal when life became maddeningly polite. He probably fantasized about what they’ve done, what they could’ve done, and the feeling of freedom when he’s with Hannibal.

And Hannibal waited for him patiently, staying exactly where he was three years ago. And when Will eventually pushed them off a cliff together, Hannibal showed no sign of resistance, and just let them fall.

“I think [Hannibal]’s feeling that embrace and that’s the first thing that he’s feeling, and even as he’s plunging into the Atlantic, he’s first and foremost thinking about the man he’s holding onto and the man who’s holding onto him.”

–Mads Mikkelsen on Hannibal’s thoughts during the final scene

Their violence is something that we as viewers may never comprehend, but we can all understand their intimacy. Isn’t it what we all want, after all, to be seen?

Anyways...

Hannibal is a great show! 10/10, would recommend. Although, the lighting kind of sucks. Bryan, if there is a season four, please make the show brighter, for the love of God.

Thanks for reading this! :)

[niuttuc]

My Favorite Cards from 2024: Foundations

The year is pretty close to over, so let’s go back over the sets released this year (with new cards at least), and go through a few of my favorite cards from that release. I’ll group together stuff released together, in this case it’ll be the main Foundations set and the Foundations Jumpstart cards. Particularly welcome reprints might also get a mention.

I've been having a lot of fun with Raise the Past, and it's an excellent example of what new Foundations cards should be: a card that's simple, yet still powerful and at a rate we haven't really seen before. In the wake of Rally the Ancestors and Return to the Ranks. A mass of small creatures is a very white way to use the graveyard, and very fun.

A very splashy 3-drop, if you'll pardon the pun, Kiora has made an impact in quite a few decks. The base rate of a 3/2 that loots twice on etb isn't bad, but then the opponent has to deal with it anyway even if you've already gotten your value, because they can't just let you have a free 8/8 from your three drop. The looting helps to get to Threshold, wrapping the entire card into a nice package.

Doubling minor graveyard hate with fun copying and stealing effects is a good way to my heart. Abyssal Harvester does that, sadly it's held back by its fragile body on a creature that doesn't do anything until you untap with it. Still, I like the design!

Look at the kitty! It's like the cute dog but not an enchantment! I also love the cute dog, and I love cantripping bodies in the color that can best use them! A cat that'll make its way into plenty of my decks.

A lot of graveyard stuff in this list, but we don't see those kinds of rewards too often in blue, and a card every time is really good. Neerdiv does her best River Kelpie impression for half the cost and available in the command zone, and then she even enables herself!

I do not know why green got this card, but Spinner of Souls sure exists and is good! Not every green creature deck will reliably have creatures dying enough to make it worth the inclusion, but considering that Fecundity sees a decent amount of commander play, and Foster should see a bit more, there are definitely homes there. I do love an Evolutionary Leap. All of that on a body big enough it gets a chance in competitive formats? I'll take it!

Efficient engines that can both attack and draw cards at 2 mana are a really nice place to be in mono-white. Brigone is niche enough to get the counters with her own effect that she's not oppressive, and adds a nice tension between keeping her able to smack people with a lot of counters and getting cards to trigger her. Using her in other counter decks that don't rely on her Heroic effect is also possible, and makes her not just confined to those very few decks.

Twinflame Tyrant is the big mythic dragon for Foundations, and it passes the muster! Not oppressive without haste by itself, it pushes up an effect two mana from when we last saw it this widely on a body with Angrath's Marauders. It's simple, which is a plus, and impressive and gets people excited! Also an art that looks great in foil.

Sadly, I'm not the only one that likes Rev's design, and as a result she's currently at an unreasonable price. Moving past that, getting mana and cards out of every attack is very much something that's worth the four mana, and I do love stealing other people's cards. Being able to get up to three cards and treasures per turn in commander by attacking multiple opponents seals the deal on the design for me... If I can ever get some copies for a price I'd pay for a card in a commander deck.

I like Celestial Armor more than Maul of the Skyclaves, which it compares to. Targeted protection spells are generally too situational to warrant a slot in decks, so one that pulls its own weight by also being a decently threatening equipment in decks that would want that allow this one to be played. This in turn makes the game more interactive, because now players have to play around the possibility of the opponent running some protection spell. Everybody wins! Except the player who's removal spell just got fizzled.

Again, Archmage of Runes is simple, clean and effective. Combining two popular effects into one, not prohibitively expensive card, repaying the one mana more you spend on this compared to an Archmage Emeritus by the time you cast your first discounted spell.

A new Alesha! Who wouldn't love old lady Alesha, still turning sideways and still bringing back creatures to fight. Getting some potential immediate value compensates well the loss of some of the tricks of the original Alesha, but it's still a card I love being in the foundational set of magic.

Reprints:

Seeing this angel package return in Foundations is a welcome sight. Plenty of players love angels and that's a great entry point. Plus Youthful Valkyrie gets an ACTUAL printing this time which should help greatly with supply.

The vegetables package! Duress and Negate kinda HAD to be in the set, it avoids them having to reprint it in a standard set every couple years. Burst Lightning is a welcome surprise in this package of efficient base spells for standard.

In blue, we got the return of Witness Protection, which still holds some of the best trinket text in the game, beautifully tying together the design. Just for the sake of that, it deserves a place here. Brineborn Cutthroat is just a solid way for a flash deck to actually finish the game, and plays into the aspects of blue that appeals to many players (and gets it hated by many other players.)

Vampire Nighthawk more than any other card in Foundations sent a pang of nostalgia through me, and I wasn't even actively playing last time around!

Liliana, Dreadhorde General is a great card that sees play in plenty of commander decks and has seen play in standard, and seeing another reprint to keep the price low is very encouraging!

Scooze is back! I love Scooze! As long as it's not exiling my perfectly fair graveyard strategy, of course. Anyway, it's very funny that Scavenging Ooze started as a card from a commander precon and went on to become a "Foundational part" of Standard.

[jessmindspace]

Parallels: Con Char stuff WOOHOO

Just a bunch of random tidbits for The Merricks and Cris! Also included some doodles based off of Pinterest studies of the father/daughter duo for a lil something extra ;D

Harper's mom was born in Georgia, so she's got a Southern twang that Harper has as well. Harper's accent only comes out when she's upset, excited, tired, or if she goes back to the Southern States. It isn't very noticeable nowadays due to her and her dad moving around so much and living in different States.

Brent is from Florida, which is where he met Harper's mom, Crystal. This is a recent (see: today) epiphany I had since I can now officially call him a Florida Man 😂

Christina is from Ireland, and still has a very strong accent despite being in the States for several years. She uses a lot of slang and can be difficult to understand at times (when she's angry), which Brent will tease her about. She only becomes more indistinct when he riles her up.

Brent has a younger brother who was successful and became a doctor, and is the only one in contact with their dad (mom died when Brent was in his late teens). His brother and dad don't know about Harper or the marriage with Crystal that lasted for a whole two seconds, and Brent prefers it that way. He'll contact them around holidays but via very short phone calls or texts to let them know he's alive (maybe not well) and not in jail 🙃

Crystal didn't consider herself to be the best mother, but she did what she could with Harper until the girl's powers started to manifest. She had no idea what was going on since a lot of really unlucky things (or just uncanny/creepy things) kept happening to her whenever Harper got upset; she isn't the sort to believe in curses, but she did think something was Wrong with Harper (and probably a little scared of her), which is why she was so insistent on reconnecting with ex-husband Brent and giving custody of their daughter to him. She wasn't sure if the next "accident" would be something that she wouldn't walk away from 😬

Christina only works for Farran, the CEO of an up and coming pharmaceutical company geared towards superhumans, because she owes him. She won't say why or how (it's a very touchy subject for her), but she feels like she's indebted and won't be free of him until he says her debt is paid in full. She hates her job, but she's stuck, so she'll do it to the best of her ability.

Harper knows a lot of nifty card tricks and con games from her dad; she would play the shell game with her school peers and tricked them out of their lunch money before someone snitched and she'd be confronted by a teacher. She's also learned to be perceptive so she can spot little tells in others. She's very good at doing this with Brent, much to his frustration since he's the one who taught her to look for tells in others, just not him!

Brent's tychokinesis comes with a trade off; ex. he could get shot, but he'd be lucky enough where it wouldn't hit anything vital (though it'll still hurt like heck and he might have lost enough blood--but just enough!--to survive and get back on his feet in a week). He didn't realize this at first and was confused on why his luck seemed to run out or turn sour after long streaks of fortune. He can also "transfer" it to others around him, so he might get the brunt of the blow of "bad luck" while they walk away unscathed.

[ragingbookdragon]

My Lord! A Snappin' Turla!

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x Reader

Word Count: 1.2K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: New OC foks!! :) Thorne

**********************************************************************

It’s an ordinary Tuesday morning at the 141 base when Laswell walks into the room with a rather annoyed looking woman in tow. The guys look up from their breakfast and tea, to Laswell, to the woman, then back to their breakfast, and it’s only Price who breaks the silence.

“This her?” he asks and Laswell nods, shoving her forward.

“This is indeed. Introduce yourself.”

“I’d rather not,” the woman mutters, crossing her arms over her chest.

“There are a lot of things I’d rather not do and babysitting you is one of those,” Laswell retorts. “Introduce yourself.”

The woman rolls her eyes, lets out an exaggerated sigh and greets, “Name’s Snapper.”

At this, Soap looks up from his eggs. “Snapper?”

“That’s what I said, William Wallace.”

He ignores the swipe. “Why do they call you ‘Snapper’? Bonnie lass like you should be called something nicer.”

Snapper blinks, eyes hardening as she answers, “I once got attacked by a drunk guy who though it would be a good idea to stick his hand in my face. Three guesses as to what I bit off and how many.”

“And there goes my desire to ask you out,” Soap jokes and she turns to Laswell with a glare.

“I’m gonna hurt this boy’s feelings.”

“Play nice, niece,” she sighs and this time, Gaz looks up.

“Niece? You have a niece?”

“My wife’s.”

“Ah,” he nods and looks to Snapper. “Kyle Garrick. But everyone calls me Gaz.”

“I cannot physically believe you’re sticking me in a base full of men.”

Laswell rolls her eyes. “As much as I hate to actually admit this, you’re one of the best information specialists I’ve ever seen. The 141 can benefit from your help.”

“Men. I’m stuck on a base full of male soldiers. Who shit and fart and laugh loudly with no regards to their surroundings. Why would this be enjoyable for me?”

“Consider it punishment for hacking into the Pentagon and changing the official records to say that Clinton did in fact have sexual relations with that woman.”

Snapper glares at the floor. “You just can’t appreciate good humor.”

“I appreciate my wife not being beside herself in tears that her only niece is in federal prison.”

“Had to get your attention and entrance to the CIA somehow,” she griped.

Finally, Ghost meets her gaze. “You hacked into the Pentagon so you could prove you were good enough to join the CIA?”

She glares at him. “Yeah, kinda how you joined the army so you could find a family that actually cared about you.” She looks at them. “Anybody else want their feelings hurt or just the obviously PTSD-ridden, antisocial, masked freak?”

“You’re out of line, Snapper,” Laswell hisses and she turns her glare onto her aunt.

“I didn’t ask to be here. You could’ve put me anywhere else. You control where I go but you sure as shit don’t control what the fuck I say or do.”

The two glower at one another before Laswell shuts her eyes, breathes deeply for a few moments, then opens her eyes and looks at Price. “Her file is on your desk, her bags are outside the door. She’s a handful but she’s good. If you need me, call.” She turns to Snapper. “You piss me the hell off, I want to kill you, I love you, I’ll call you when I land. Goodbye.”

“You can’t just leave me here!” she shouts in return but doesn’t follow, instead she cocks a hand on her hip and looks at the four men at the table. “So…what’s on the agenda first?”

Price lets out a breath. “Manners, for starters.”

“Kiss my left ass-cheek,” she retorts. “I’m not letting a forty-five-year-old man tell me how to be ladylike.”

Soap and Gaz both snort into their drinks and Price falls stricken with a look of disbelief. “I’m thirty-eight?”

“Uh huh, and I’m the fucking Queen of England.” She gestures to them. “Have fun in your circle-jerk club. I’m gonna go wander.”

“No you’re not, lass,” Soap says, jumping up to grab her arm and she pauses, looks down at his hand, then back up.

“You wanna play this game with me?” Snapper asks coldly. “Because I’ll win.”

He points a finger in her face. “You keep your hands to yourself and your teeth off people.”

“I find I don’t like men telling what to do particularly pleasant. Let go or you’ll be two fingers less than you were five seconds ago.” He glares but lets her go and follows when she turns around. “I don’t need a babysitter. Fuck off.”

“This base has sensitive information you’re not privy to.”

“Yeah, like how you take the lieutenant up your ass every night?”

Soap stalls. “H-how?”

“I’m very good at what I do,” is all she tells him, then pauses and turns back to the table. “I want that one to lead me around.” Her finger is pointing straight at Gaz, who looks like he’s about to shit a brick.

He looks at Price in terror. “I do not want to be her friend.”

“Fuck you,” she barks, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m a great friend.”

Price glances between the two glaring at each other. “Gaz, give her a tour of the base.”

“Price—”

“That’s an order,” he adds and Gaz grunts, getting up from the table to follow her.

“C’mon,” he says, and she clears her throat with exaggeration, getting in front of him.

“Oh no, I’m not being led around like a dog.”

“I’m not treating you like a fucking dog,” he gripes, opening the door. “Just go.”

“Make me, princess,” she retorts and the two start arguing as the door shuts behind them.

No one breaks the silence for a few moments, then Price groans, lays his head on the table and swears. “Fuckin’ Laswell. When she said she had a specialist in mind, I thought it was gonna be someone enjoyable.”

Soap tipped his head side to side. “I dunno, Price, she seems like an…acquired taste.”

“More like sour,” he bites back, sitting up to run a hand down his face. “God help Gaz.”

“He’ll be fine,” Soap says. “What’s the worst that could happen? They hate-fuck?”

“Exactly. I’m too young to be a grandfather,” he says, looking at Ghost. “They’re not allowed to sleep in the same room. Ever.”

“Who fucking died and put me in charge of them?” Ghost snaps.

“Because I trust you.”

“You don’t trust me?” Soap asks, hurt.

“You’ll encourage them, Simon won’t.”

“But don’t you want Gaz to be happy?”

“I want Gaz to not be arrested for killing a CIA agent.”

“Think she might bite his head off before that happens,” Ghost says.

“She’ll bite somethin’,” Soap snorts.

Price grunts, rising from his seat, tea cup in his hand. “I’m going to my office. Come get me if they get into a fistfight.”

“Still questioning why I’m in charge of them,” Ghost gripes.

“Because I fuckin’ said so. That’s why.”

“Permission to not be nice to her.”

“Granted. Lethal verbal decimation allowed.”

“Copy.” Ghost rises, pointing at Soap. “You. Come on.”

“You?” he sputters. “I have a name, ya fuckin’ reprobate.”

As the two argue while they leave, Price leans against the table and frowns at his feet. “I need a partner…or a fucking hobby…or both.”

[inventors-fair]

Counterplay: Increment Commentary

There were a lot of mechanical variants this past week, and a lot of variations on the same mechanical aspects. Amassing, and card draw, and +1/+1 counters on green creatures... Yeah, there are only so many things you can increment in so many ways. I'm kind of surprised by the amount of variance even within those similarities, though, and it's clear that people liked forging their own paths! 

Decades of mechanics and precedent allow us to select what designs work best, how they work best, and what kinds of aspects of MTG will show up when we need them to be bigger and better. I think the one suggestion I would give generally would be to consider the play patterns based not just on your own imaginations but also experiences from limited, from standard interactions, from the world in which everything is a little bit reliant on everything else. There were big swings between ambitions and precedent, mechanically and flavorfully.

There were also arguable differences between what I consider precedent for increments and what's technically incremented, so keep that in mind. Some of this—actually, all of this, because I'm the judge—is my opinion for what I was looking for in terms of direct increments. So keep that in mind: my opinions are totally fine to hand-wave on that front. I'd like to think you're still here because you care about the parts where I say what I think works and doesn't work otherwise, but that's ego speaking.

See a card marked JUDGE PICK? That meant that I liked it enough to either point out something super specific about it or it was in the running for the podium before paring for space. Read on until you're accumulated all that knowledge.

@bread-into-toast — Sprout of the Hate Seed (JUDGE PICK)

Calling combat triggers "incremental" is technically true, but not precisely what I was thinking of for this contest. That goes even more so for the optional trigger there. But maybe I'm being too narrow with my internal definition of "will happen every turn" versus "may perhaps happen every turn," because some of those example cards did kinda get there. I think part of my internal view was considering that you were the one in control of the increment. BTW, all of this is me waxing and musing, so for you and your card specifically, I'll say that this card really got me thinking about what I wanted to mean by increment and what was unspoken. Kinda on me for that.

I do love this card in general, though, although I'd change that trigger to: "Whenever this creature deals combat damage to a player, if it had a +1/+1 counter on it, create a token that's a copy of it. Otherwise, create a 1/1 green Saproling creature token." The reason is because it could be argued that the "it" in the second sentence could refer to the Saproling, or at least someone might be confused by it. Everything else is perfectly awesome for a Gruul design—swingy, big, potentially game-ending, and the kind of rare that would sway you in limited into these colors. Swell job!

~

@cthulhusaurusrex — Elvish Growthcaller / Embodiment of Growth

Big effects into bigger effects are incremental enough, sure. Transforming into Cathars' Crusade on a stick is pretty excellent, and with enough lords or other effects I think that this card could be absolutely powerful when it transforms. The design itself is fine and would be a snap-pick if you're anywhere near green and/or if you wanted to hate because you didn't have the right removal. Mechanics are fairly standard, and that's all good there. I suppose the world around it and the vibes are what I wanted more of, so let's talk about that.

What this card is depicting is the healing/lifegiving power of a young elf that transforms them into a leader amongst their people. This is one of those cases where I feel that "elves connecting to plants" could have used some kind of emotional crutch to separate it from... The word I'm going to use is "expected." This is all flavor talk, so feel free to skip it, because the only actual chance on the card I'd do is making the T in Trample lowercase. For flavor reasons, though, I don't yet feel that kind of surprise that I need to make these fairly straightforward mechanics feel fresh again. Is this an expected mutation among the culture, or a surprise gift of the world's magic? The flavor text isn't giving me anything new here, and its vague poetic styling needs to provide that sense of strangeness, transformation, or change.

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@dabudder — The Hype

I get this card, for sure. Totally do. It's absolutely not what I was looking for for increments, as it relies on a lot of non-deterministic factors to do...well, anything. But man. The first thing that comes into my head is Throes of Chaos, but much different. I suppose you could search for The Hypes, get them into the graveyard or whatever, but once they're in the graveyard then you need at least one to get it going... And then, to what end? The hype feels kinda let down by having only one extra copy, but having too many would be way too wild. Chain together The Hype until you hit two five-mana-or-less combo pieces, what a deck. Isn't that basically how this deck would work? Geological Appraiser got banned in Pioneer for a reason.

The main point is that this card can only get so big before the hype dies down, unless you're using The Hype to win on the spot. Limited probably wouldn't use this card (although not every card is designed for it, so that's aight) except as a maybe one-off ramp. "Find your combo piece" is effectively all that you'd be doing in constructed effectively. Maybe the randomness being let down by The Hype copying multiple pieces is okay, but even then, this isn't the kind of scaling that's right for an increment contest. What happens at the top? Via the card itself, nothing much. It's hard to evaluate a card that effectively is designed around only itself without assuming the most broken intentions.

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@feyd-rautha-apologist — Grassy Gnoll (JUDGE PICK)

I imagined this card to be a build-around sleeper hit for constructed. Pinging your opponents' creatures doesn't have to be massive to be effective, right? And if there are two of these things, well, you're in for a treat. It's the return of Temur Staticaster combo! That's all just hype, though. The narrowness of this card at uncommon meant that it wasn't exactly slated for a podium spot given the fact that we had an immense number of awesome cards. Still, despite the name being something that perhaps wouldn't pass the marketing team, I think this card's pretty wonderful.

And aside from that, there's not much of a second paragraph to add here. The "W" in "Ward" should be lowercase, so jot that down. I do want to say: I think that the shortening of a card name to "this creature" was a mistake on WotC's part. Later pronouns can increase text to decrease the following confusion, although this card clears it up enough with the "that" later on. All the same... Look, this card feels great—it eats, shoots, and leaves. Leaves you with an arrow in the back, anyway. I love hyenas and I love the vibes. What more can I say?

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@frognarch — Avalanche Elemental (JUDGE PICK)

Conversely to the previous card, you could use "this creature" here and I'd be none the wiser. But! This is one of those copying effects that distinctly feels incremental, and by far stronger in limited for it. Evasion and copying and snowballing, well, that's pretty wild. The only question I have for limited power is whether or not the fact that it can get exponential is too much. Blocking the token copy can wear it down for the moment, but if you get a single copy to stay, the board's basically done for. Every turn, swing and swing and swing again. These days, though, a five-mana 3/3 is pretty low. Maybe the environment would redefine it? Hard to say.

I do really love this design, though. I'd replace the "and" with a "then," or just remove the comma from behind the word "combat." Those are the minor potatoes. As for the flavor text, I'm iffy on a couple counts. Firstly, that's not how avalanches happen so jot that down for your nerd notes. Secondly, though, that line of just "the snow fell" doesn't carry much weight with it for me. The card's intent is that these elementals are rising from the alpine and barreling down uncontrollably, but the flavor text makes it seem like the army just got buried in a particularly heavy storm. It speaks to the aftermath rather than the moment, and the card's energy is carried with that moment. Y'know? Gotta match the energy to the action.

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@grornt — Mangrove Stalker

I'll start off by saying that it's a generally phenomenal design and you should keep this in the files. No notes there. I'll follow that up with the unfortunate part that it doesn't feel quite as incremental to what I was looking for for the contest. As soon as this comes out, you can pop it and get your benefit if you have enough creatures in the graveyard. Inversely, I was looking for a card that started the buildup itself and used itself as a requirement for bigger effects. There's the technical argument, and then the vibe argument.

I guess that this is a design lesson for me for contests. Most of the vibes were totally met, but this is a card that just doesn't hit that specificity for me. All of the values are subtle and I was actually hoping that people would be less subtle this week. I know, shocker! But if this creature got 'stalking counters' whenever you milled a creature or whatever, then drew for each stalking counter, that would be more in-line with the intended increment. And that would, in my opinion, make for a worse card. What happens when a good design clashes with the bespoke niche? I mean, you get me waffling for two paragraphs, that's what. 

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@helloijustreadyourpost — The Book of Grudges

Multiplying your power as a punishing effect for attacking hurts a lot. Even though your creatures can't block, a single attack from your opponent the turn after you play this will create an additional four power on board, and then six the next turn, and so on and so forth. Yeah, it's a three-mana can't-block token. But we've all heard the adage "math is for blockers," and that really makes this card feel like it's doing more than it should be able to. Landing this early in limited is a game-ender without removal. Landing it late can change the parity immensely—if you have parity. I will say that the can't-block addition is the best choice for ability balance. (Or in this case, cannot-block. You should change that to the contraction.)

Personally, I'd do one of two things: either I'd limit the number of counters that can be placed on the book (which would be okay but not great for the contest, and would add a lot of text), or I'd make the creatures 1/1s. I am also curious about the flavor here, because I want to praise the subtle humor and the cool worldbuilding piece you've made here. Presumably, you have a group of dwarves on whatever world (I'm thinking Eldraine or Kaldheim) with a massive tome of their wrongs that incenses them to combat in a way that's more aggressive than thoughtful. Shortsighted and grumpy! That's a great way to use names and abilities together to create a sense of grounding without even needing art direction.

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@horsecrash — Bubbling Brew

The design: super cool. The flavor: perfect use of those counters. The math: weird. Too weird. Hold on, I'm actually going to get out a deck and muck around and see how it feels. ... So, I just tried this in a Sultai midrange kind of deck. Played it on turn three. Turn four: basically no hand, played out a card. Turn five: lost a lot of life, but drew cards. Didn't want to play anything because of the life loss. Turn six: draw a lot, lost a lot. I basically didn't want to play any of the cards that I drew because that meant the next turn I'd be incrementally losing all of the other resources.

Quite frankly, I want this effect to be symmetrical. Smokestack-style. Standard can handle it. Or there has to be some other kind of way to mitigate the life loss, because you're discarding so many cards that you're losing basically everything you get at the cost of your life and eventually there's no way to play out all that you have so you just mill yourself or drain yourself. I think this was the first time I've actively played a card in a deck that it was probably intended for, and lemme tell you, it's worth for anyone to do for a card this ambitious. Pros: ambition, flavor, uniqueness. Cons: my life total :(

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@hypexion — Ignition, Errant Arson / Cataclysm, Vengeant Inferno

The design is decent, but I'm left with a lot more questions than answers. Let's go through those first, because the second paragraph here is for sure going to be talking about the cool stuff you're doing. I feel that the increment-specific design is intended to be like Animar, in that your costs go down with the incremental uptick, so that's understandable. But it feels so localized, and this is a personal thing, but I think the intent of the contest was more universal to the board? Still, out of the technicalities, it makes a lot of sense to me with the buildup. The names are baffling me, though, because I can't place them at all. I assume these are chosen names, but they're... I don't want to say that they're "obvious" for the archetype. "Telling" is the closest adjective I have.

Mechanics are surprisingly in-depth, though, so let's have some fun. Firstly, menace plus potentially killing a small blocker is a great combo, and depending on how much an opponent is forced to block, that may be a perfect way to get those counters, discounting burn/combat tricks. Could even be worth making the front side a 3/3. "Non-player target" is also a great choice on the backside—accounting for Battles, I assume? The only wording choice on the back side I'd change would be to switch first strike and menace (see Kari Zev et. al); I thought "they" should be "that player" but I guess your wording is accurate as well! Both work even if I prefer "that player." The bombiness and dedication to the theme is on point, even if some of the details are evading me.

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@izzet-always-r-versus-u — Tyvar, Hero in the Dark

Sorry about not saving this one the first time—I definitely saw it, and I went through the inbox a second time, and it just flew under the radar. So let's talk about it now! And part of that is me wanting to hear the thought process for this card, because as a mythic, it's possible that it's really good, but I'm not entirely convinced. Omen Hawker was the first card to come to mind, although this one is distinctly more powerful—but just as narrow. Here's the question I'm left with: in what environment would this be considered a mythic in terms of gameplay versatility? Where are the most activated abilities that one would want to do postcombat or during combat?

Maybe it's just me, but I feel that this would've been a fine rare instead of a mythic. The general design is fantastic, though, and it works quite well with the other Tyvar. And, I can see from the past precedent that Tyvar has a little bit of "activated abilities matter" from the past. Everything shows that you've done your homework here. I feel 'whelmed' by the overall effect, though. Attack, counter, make mana—that's all fine. Where do we go from here? Boasting is potentially valid, I suppose, but again, I would liked to know a little bit more about your vision. I'm imagine there was a lot build up in the process that maybe didn't translate into demonstrating this card's utilitarian strength. (Also: love the name, 10/10)

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@melancholia-ennui — Creeping Misery (JUDGE PICK)

Yep, that's an alternate wincon for black, very much in the spirit of the contest. Once more we're delving into the world of black enchantments. Was there a particular reason we had six mono-black enchantments this week? I'm not creeping on anyone's misery here, but I find it fascinating. Anyway! Underworld Dreams is one of the first cards that come to mind when people think about BBB punishing enchantments, but this card's more along the lines of... Well, it's got quite a pedigree! Bloodchief Ascension, Fraying Sanity, and more... And yet it's not until you start to pick apart the card that you see how all these influences turn into something original. I think that it's reasonable to call this card more of a constructed build-around but the limited potential is there.

And in limited, you're going to have a lot fewer chances to save yourself and find answers if this hits the board, because things will be trading all the time. You only need one copy to lock someone out of the game, because everyone's going to be getting rid of creatures, especially you. Having that BBB restriction to prevent this from being even remotely splashable ensures that only dedicated decks can make it work. Obviously it's a pain in the butt to deal with for limited, but some cards are just like that. With our limited space this week, I still wanted to showcase this card for being overall just plain good. Pedigree matters sometimes, and this is a well-worded well-executed enchantment. Thumbs up!

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@nine-effing-hells — Exponential Grower

I completely forgot what expend was for a moment there. For anyone reading this who also happened to forget, expending was the raccoon-themed mechanic of Bloomburrow where you expended X as you spend your Xth mana to cast a spell in a single turn. I think I understand expending as a mechanic that would be reasonable for Strixhaven! You have these students who are putting a lot of mana into casting bigger and better spells, so that's fair, or maybe Quandrix could just be that home, as they're a growth-themed school. I think reminder text might've been appropriate, though, because let's be real, expend was...not a memorable mechanic.

As for how this card works, I think incremental growth is a little bit problematic, because it essentially tops out at eight unless you're playing a massive EDH game, and this card isn't especially playable except in those unworldly dedicated decks, which have other and better options. Having a 16/16 trampler isn't bad by any means, of course, but in terms of incremental cards... Well, maybe I'm being too strict with the definition, because getting that 16/16 is pretty rad. I guess between the top-off and the expend stuff, this card feels decent—but that's about the limit. I'd like to see this card in a Quandrix-expend-Strixhaven world, and it's a fair design. Having the limit be pragmatic instead of mechanical doesn't feel great for this contest, but I wouldn't really change the design.

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@piccadilly-blue — Press Gang

You said it yourself in your submission, so I'm not gonna go gushing over this card as a paramount of progress. It's good, though so liiiiiike... Anyway. Getting more and more power with your Pirate Army is going to get out of hand pretty fast, but not in a way that's not deal-with-able, considering, like... They're two creatures that can be fought against with the various tricks in black and white via combat and in green via big stuff. But, you have extra help with evasion to get your Treasures in these colors, so you're gonna have that going for you. Is it any surprise that this card's pretty much exactly what's reasonable for a set that would call for it?

The flavor text is good as well. I can see the head of a gang walking down the port with a sword in hand, smirking as they lead a hooting and hollering band of miscreants. It feels a little off that there's no Threaten effect with this card, though, and considering that there were other effects like that in the Ixalan era of piracy, I wonder if there was an opportunity to have that come up here? Maybe the flavor text could've been more in reference to bigger crews having more fun or whatever. I guess that's not the point, though, and again, not bad at all. Take a pat on the shoulder and don't check your pockets until your wallet and I are at least two states away.

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@real-aspen-hours — Incremental Research (JUDGE PICK)

Remember to get your rarity on if you're doing text submissions, folks. But that's neither here nor there, because I imagined and hoped that this would be a rare card. Plenty of research goes into making this work for sure, and it's one of those things with high risk and high reward. After a certain point, there aren't going to be many spells left unless you're doing X spells. Where I really see this popping off is with extra turn spells. From mana values 5-10, there are a number of excellent ones. I guess that's if you're playing solitaire, though; normal burn/control/value stuff is fine too.

I think this card significantly rewards strong deckbuilding. It's possible for this to be playable in limited if you really work for it, even if it becomes not very useful after a certain point. But isn't that part of the flavor? You have to do your research, you have to really make it work, you have to use your knowledge. It wouldn't fit this contest, but I think this card could've been even stronger if you were forced to either add OR remove a counter from the enchantment. Still, that's messing with other powers, and doesn't help for this card for this specific contest. It's pretty good overall, and I like the choice of skill intensity.

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@roxbot — Furnace, Fierce Protector

This card could be perfectly fine in the right environment. The major issue is that, for all intents and purposes, it's a french vanilla mythic that doesn't do anything but get bigger. It doesn't necessarily affect the board, but it plays into a couple of specific strategies, perhaps. Looking at what's in Standard right now, there's not a great comparison. The question of what this card does hangs over it. As I was reading it, I actually thought that these were oil counters and not charge counters at the beginning, and that's a whole other thing—what kind of deck do you have to build to make this work, really, and is it worth it just for this kind of body? I'm not entirely convinced, even in a set that would use an immense amount of charge counters.

Couple of wording changes, by the by. Names are usually replaced by "this creature" as of Foundations, and that would work best here. The "on permanents" should be "among permanents" in the first line. Rules things: if you have no charge counters out when you play this card, it'll actually die as a state-based action, because when the spell itself resolves the P/T check will see it as a 0/0 before the trigger goes on the stack. That's why cards like The Mimeoplasm are worded the way they are. Last note, "start" should be "beginning" there. Overall, I think there were a few tweaks, but the base judgement is that I feel the power level is too low and too narrow for the impact it needs.

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@sparkyyoungupstart — Detesting Beast

I think that this card would be awesome in a multiplayer set or in a Commander precon! I also think that introducing the monarch mechanic in 1v1, for which you are designing, has led to several problems and I'm not gonna wax poetic about an issue that everyone and their cat has been talking about for the last thousand years. Anyway. Let's look at the design choices from THAT perspective. The general take: this card's fun and you're gonna be pretty detested by the end of the game assuming that nobody has removal for it. Nobody wants to be hit by this, and nobody wants to give you the monarch for sure. Everyone suffers. I like that. Puts a good threat out there.

All these synergies makes me really wish that you had actually gone and done a Questing Beast variant with three different mostly unrelated takes like how the original QB had done, though. I think part of QB's strength is the fact that it's just a pain in the butt for different reasons, as opposed to this card with has many reasons but one specific track for it to be awful. The only wording change is to change the 7s to "seven"s. I also like how damage to ANY opponent will yoink the monarch back, BTW, very subtle. I hate this card! I would love to play with this card.

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@tanknspank — Rats' Nest (JUDGE PICK)

Very curious if you were going for Eldraine or Ravnica here, but either way it's a great use of the name and of the typal agenda. I think Army technology makes a lot of sense for increments overall as well, so I'm glad that folks were using that a lot this week. I'm okay with it being used here not just because having "amass rats" is an awesome thing to see on a card, but also because, yeah, it's just what this contest could want. Get a big enough rat and you're forcing your opponent to make the rat bigger. That's pretty great!

There's just no guarantee that this card's going to get going, and for that reason I wouldn't make a P1P1 out of this in limited. Not that you'll never have rats or that things won't die, but with the right kind of evasion and alternative removal, it makes it difficult for you to 100% guarantee that you'll find a large enough rat to make this card really pop off. It's not a bad rare; it's a slow rare for sure, but eh, what're you going to do. The general vibes are exact, the card's going to do what you want it to in a dedicated rat deck that's not one of the gimmick decks, and so we're all happy with what we see here. I'm really feeling more sewer-y Ravnican rat nonsense with this, but I couldn't tell you why.

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@wildcardgamez — Benevolent Scalelord

Cumulative upkeep and bolster are two mechanics that I really don't see being that great together, even with the things that you use to make it...well, this. The reality is that cumulative upkeep isn't a great mechanic and wasn't that good even in its heyday; it's a 10 on the storm scale for a reason. Bolster is also one of those mechanics where you're stuck in a strange spot with the kind of creatures that you're able to put counters on, but that's one where I'm more of a personal meh-sayer. As it is, though...why is this a dragon hydra? What kind of weirdness justifies that? A dragon without flying could have hydra-ness in it, but if the two are coming together you bet I'd rather see a flying hydra than a grounded dragon.

The idea of big counters that transfer over to another creature upon death isn't a bad idea at its core. This particular card has a mishmash of strangeness that leads me to wonder why they'd ever be together for a premier set. I feel that the lesson to be learned here is to focus the backwards-looking lens on what should be returning rather than what would be good for a contest. On top of that, the excitement of ideas should reflect the best of both worlds rather than a compromise. Did this need to be a dragon at all? Could you have brought bolster to another creature type?

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@xenobladexfan — Bloody Knowledge

"If you would draw one or more cards during each of your draw steps, instead put two deal counters on this enchantment. Then you draw X cards and lose X life, where X is the number of deal counters on this enchantment." is how I would word it. There are a few precedent-y cards to go with that, but this is a pretty convoluted card as it is. Drawing two and losing two, then four, then six, then eight... I mean, hey, that late in the game, you better be ready to make some sacrifices. I think that the addition makes some really rough deals out of this spell, but it's a mythic black card draw thing, so for standard sets it's as powerful as you're gonna get. Maybe 2BB would be fine, but that's pushing it just to keep things even.

I guess that the most important thing about this card to critique is the fact that it's pretty much a stripped-down flavor for bargaining, to the point where there's little meat left on the bones. Bare bones are good for chewing, but there ain't much blood in them any longer. Sometimes the basics are important, but there's zero context for what's happening beyond all the "give up blood for knowledge and power" spells that we've seen before. I think that this card needed a little bit more of a personal story touch for me to feel something beyond the good-mechanics. Again, there's nothing inherently wrong with the tropes—it's me personally that's wanting more.

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@yd12k — Sphinx's Grasp

I'm ashamed to say that I'd build around this card. It's a looping wincon, where you can play one, counter a spell, then hold up counterspells in your hand for the rest of the game and then just loop them once or twice a turn until you have literally all the power you could possibly need to strip them of their resources. As a limited card, nobody would play this. Constructed? Absolutely revolting as a wincon and I'd play four of them in a bounce-control deck. The gist is that this just isn't a good play pattern for constructed at all.

Even an uncounterable meta would have a difficult time if this were combined with literally any other aspect. Oddly enough, I'm reminded of Lullmage Mentor, although the ceiling for that card was significantly higher than here. But for that, it's a once-a-turn possible lock. This card is an active wincon that permanently removes further resources. I don't think that there's a world where I can really justify this card, as much as I like it.

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@yourrightfulking — Invasive Briar

The give-and-take is interesting as a card. It's definitely not what we're looking for for increments. What's increasing, exactly, and by what? The lands that you get to put on the plants can be replayed if you draw into them, but nothing gets bigger the more that something happens. The more lands you play doesn't necessarily correlate to the increase in plants, and the growth of the plants isn't necessarily tied to the fact that you're playing the lands. Give-and-take is a different kind of technology here. I do like this card, though, so take that for whatever you will.

I actually really like this as a limited bomb, to be honest. You can drop this and then do absolutely nothing but play out the rest of the game until you can get a plant army going to annihilate your opponent with your spare lands. Like, that's a fine game plan that requires forethought and survival without being a brainless exercise in abundance. Multiples are a pain and can get overbearing quickly, but there are far more answers in constructed. I think that there are other ways to flavor this to make it a little bit scarier or funnier or more immersive, but that doesn't take away from the mechanical cohesion. Good card...for a different contest.

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Have fun with myths this week! @abelzumi

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸 🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

96 for Long Death!

---

“No luck,” Eddie sighs. 

“Me neither,” Maddie frowns. That surprises Eddie. “He turned it off for me.”

“I have it,” Sophia says.

They both turn to look at her. Eddie feels slightly betrayed, honestly. He imagines Maddie does, too. But then he remembers all Sophia and Buck went through, together. Maybe he thinks she’s the only person willing to do the same batshit crazy stuff in Eddie’s name. Maybe he’s right. 

Sophia turns the screen to show them.

“Here,” she says. “He’s here.”

Maddie grimaces. “Alright. Let’s go.”

💧💧💧

If he had wanted to, Buck could have waited until Kim was home to kill her. 

It was easy to narrow down Kim’s neighborhood, based on her very active Instagram feed. Easy enough to find her from there. Buck hates that it was easy, actually. He hates that things he learned in the interest of keeping Eddie safe, of being a protector, have turned him into a predator. Someone dangerous. Someone vile. Because that’s what this will be right? A vile, horrible act. 

Buck knows that. 

He just had to keep in mind, she started it. She hurt Eddie first. She destroyed things. 

This isn’t all Buck’s fault. 

Although, deep down, he knows… It kind of is. 

He’s not sure how he wants to play this exactly. He can’t just show up at her work and what? Shoot her. That’s a surefire way to get caught. He can’t break into her house while she’s there. That is also ending in a 9-1-1 call and Buck’s arrest. He considers waiting behind her house for her to get home, and coming from behind as she unlocks her door. But again, that leaves a lot of risk. Anyone could see him. 

Instead, he thinks about where the police first found Eddie. Abandoned, near the Long Beach Marina, bleeding to death. Truck left in a parking lot not far away. And he thinks that’s fitting. 

Kim drives a Prius. Buck knows this because she’s posted it to her Instagram several times. It’s baby blue and the license plate starts with 2Y. He doesn’t know the full plate because it’s never fully visible, but he knows that much. That’s enough, he thinks. 

He ensures Kim is working. He calls the store and she answers. He hangs up without saying anything. He parks far enough away from the main sea of Long Beach Promenade parking that his license plates won’t be caught on any nearby cameras. 

Crime is hard, he’d once said. 

Time to find out. 

The sun is setting and he’s dressed in dark, concealing clothing. He walks to the Promenade parking, and scours the large, seemingly endless lot for the right vehicle. He finds four Priuses, but only one of them is baby blue. When he is confident no one is looking, Buck uses a knife to flatten two tires. She won’t be leaving here on time. Maybe he should have researched how to cut brake lines. But that comes with the risk of her crashing and hurting or killing someone else. He really doesn’t want anyone else to get hurt. Plus, when Eddie hears about this - there will be no way around that - he doesn’t want the image of her involved in a vehicular death. That’s just a little bit more fucked up than it already needs to be. 

So here’s the plan. Kim will be done work in approximately fifteen minutes, based on store hours. Maybe a bit longer, depending on how long it takes to close shop. Even now, as business is winding down, the parking lot is beginning to empty. People are leaving from a long day of shopping, eating, and generally hanging out. Kim will be one of the last out. Buck will wait for her to arrive. He will keep low, behind a nearby EV charging station, and wait. When she bends down to check her tires, he will approach from behind, inflict a fatal wound with his hunting knife, and walk away. Fast. He will book it away, actually. 

Kim will die. At home, Eddie will die. Kim won’t wake up. Eddie will. Whatever happens from there, happens.

Buck knows he could get caught. Go to prison. He knows this will fuck him up, haunt him, either way. He knows Eddie may be angry with him. Hate him, maybe. But he still has to do it. He has to do it, so he doesn’t find Eddie staked to death one day. He has to do it, so Eddie doesn’t have Chris taken from him if his parents ever find out there’s a vampire in the house. He has to do it, so no matter what happens with vampires, it doesn’t ruin Eddie’s life. He has to do it, because he loves Eddie more than he loathes the consequences. 

And that love is a hill he’s willing to die on.

It all goes according to plan. The parking lot empties. There are only a few scattered vehicles by the time he sees Kim walking towards her Prius.