#guess what color i play the most challenge: easy

[machinedramon]

I want to take a moment to add some of my favorite stuff from sasasi, who has CONSISTENTLY been my favorite artist in this TCG

Ok why are all the art in Digimon TCG are so good

I hope someday they’ll release some sort of art book. These are too good

[spideyhexx]

oct. 7th - scaredy cat

William H. Bonney x BountyHunter!Female!Reader

mdni! wc; 3.3k cw; gunplay, threats of death, dom-ish reader, dub-con-ish, thighriding, grinding, mentions of piss

kinktober 2024 masterlist

a/n; was worried about this one because i was having trouble writing it, but i think i like how it turned out soooo!!!! hope you all enjoy!!!!

The smoothness of the cards touch at your skin as you move your thumb across, eyes bouncing from the cards, then back up to the man in front of you. 

The bar is rustling with life, but the noises drown out the longer you focus on the man’s blue eyes. They sear into you, subtly trying to beg for an inch, to find what it is you’re thinking or take an educated guess at what cards you hold behind your hands. 

His lips are in neutral territory. No faint smile, but no tension, though his thumb taps to his cards every other second. You count it. One. No tap. Two. Tap. One. No tap. Two. Tap. 

There are two other men in the game, a gentleman to your left that’s clearly off his rocker, and a gentleman to your right, who has the worst poker face known to life itself. Your focus is on the blue-eyed man though. Actual competition. 

The drunken man folds his cards, giving up more because he cannot even think straight. He barely walks straight to the bar just ahead. The man across from you tilts his head, his slightly messy hair catching your attention for only the moment he’s looking away at the drunk man. The cocky one places another bet. You raise your bet. And the blue-eyed man taps his thumb twice in a row this time, before raising his bet. 

The cocky guy scoffs a bit, but your expression remains unmoving. In fact, you lean back in the rickety wooden chair, like this is just some easy day for you. The guy folds his cards and you resist the urge to smirk, your eyes gluing themselves back to the young man in front of you. 

You make your bet, then lean back against, the only movement you give him is a slight cock of your head. The man tries to school his expression, but you see the slight quirk in the corner of his mouth as he looks at his cards, thinking. Or pretending to think. Most likely the latter. Either way, you study him more than you were before.

His dark blue shirt is dirtied, no doubt. Probably hasn’t been washed in days. Weeks, maybe. His knuckles are redder than they should be, but there is no bruising. You can deduce he was hitting something though. Or someone. There is a cut on his lip though. A cut in the process of healing. His hair, messy like you noticed before, seems more windswept or hat hair, than anything else. The slight curls near his ears curl around the curve of it, and his eyes, well, they return to boring into your soul. 

He hasn’t said much of anything since he sat down. A small hello to the other players. A lingering glance at you. He called you ma’am. It’s not that women didn’t play poker, but it was certainly rarer, especially out here in a middle of nowhere town with maybe three entire buildings and the rest expansive farmland. 

The man thinks for a few more moments and you have played enough poker to know he’s purposely building up the tension, wondering if you’ll push through any cracks to give him an inkling on your hand. He’s baiting you, but you know better. 

He shows his cards and leans on his arms on the table, a silent challenge, because he would be winning right now with that hand. 

If only you didn’t have a straight flush. 

The man gives a huff, but a small smile graces his lips. They’re so red, and you catch yourself watching the way his tongue quickly runs over them as he stands from his chair. He grabs his hat, black in color, and sits it perfectly atop his head, pushing it down a moment, before sticking his hand out. 

“Well done,” he says, his voice smooth with the slightest hint of a twang. You shake his hand once, then move to gather your winnings into the small satchel at your side. 

“You’re good. It was a good game,” he speaks again, adjusting his hat, though you know he has no need to do so. A nervous twitch, maybe, but you’ve already gathered he’s a fidgety guy. 

“I know,” you respond, offering half of a grin. His hands drop to his gun belt, shifting one of his legs like he wants your attention to drop to that area. 

His fingers drum on his belt, a grin still stuck to his face, but he just nods, and shrugs on a maroon jacket, then saunters out to the bar exit, while you turn towards the bar itself. 

Once you hear his boots leave the establishment, you count to thirty in your head. You’re lenient. Your hand snakes down to the gun in your holster, your thumb tracing the handle. It soothes it. Prepares it for the potential action afoot, something you always had to do before a job. 

When your mental count hits thirty, you stand, and walk out of the bar. The setting sun still shines bright and hits your vision at first. You shield your eyes, clocking the man’s horse still tied up here. 

You walk past the few buildings in this settlement, then veer off toward the woods. The grass of the field swishes against you as you stride slow, careful of your steps as you look around. 

As you approach the small thicket of trees, you catch that maroon color. 

His back is to you, standing near a tree, so you slowly stalk over, pulling your gun from your holster with ease. 

You make no noise, approaching your prey with a staunch air. Your heart is beating. A rapt hitting against your chest, but it’s not nerves, it’s excitement. As you get closer, you realize he’s urinating against the tree, but it does little to hinder you. It only excites you more. 

He whistles softly to himself, a tune you cannot place, and it almost distracts you from the task at hand. You roll your shoulders back to snap yourself out of it, then close the distance, quickly coming up on him from behind. 

The man startles and makes a quick move to grab his gun, but the barrel of yours digs into the side of his neck before he can reach it. You press your chest close up on his back, your other hand reaching around the front of him to undo his gun belt. 

His head turns slightly and you watch him recognize who it is. 

Your hand almost grazes his exposed dick, and a droplet of piss leaves him. You snicker, letting the gun belt detach and you toss it to the side,“Continue.”

“What?” He asks, voice more gruff than it was back in the bar. 

“Finish pissing, Mr. Bonney.” 

Billy hesitates, but you nudge the barrel harder against the skin of his neck and he relents, continuing to relieve himself against the tree. 

It’s quiet besides the sound of his stream, until he asks, “Who do you work for?” 

You scoffs. “No one.” He finishes, and goes to tuck himself back in. You watch the movement with a deep intensity, feeling lucky he isn’t looking at your face. 

“People are after you all over this state and the next. And you made your face known in a busy bar?” 

You’re ridiculing him. The tone of your voice shows it, and you get him to turn around, pushing hard at his chest so he’s up against the tree. There’s no question that Billy the Kid, is stronger than you, but he makes no move to fight you. Not yet, at least. 

“Guess I had some faith,” he says, keeping his hands held up. You drag the barrel from his neck to the front of his chest. 

“How long were you followin’ me? No way you just happened to be there…playin’ poker with me,” he questions, eyes narrowing. He’s trying to study you, but you won’t let him do that. 

“You’re gonna come with me.” You step up closer to him, almost chest to chest if it wouldn’t be for your gun against him. His one leg, having been slightly jutted out, makes it perfect to step up closer to him, his knee brushing to your leg, his head tilted to see you. 

Billy’s jaw clenches when you don’t directly answer his question, “Or you’re gonna kill me? Is that it, ma’am?” 

“Do you not believe I would?” You laugh in his face. 

“No offense, ma’am, but you don’t look all that…threatening,” he says and you break your little composure to furrow your brow. Is he trying to anger you? Trying to see how far you’d go? Well if he is, you’ll sure show him. 

“Ah, I see.” With a nod, you quickly push your hands down on his shoulders. The shove is hard enough to send him to his knees on the ground and you cock your gun, putting it right at his head, “Your poster says dead or alive, didya know that?”

“Yeah I do,” Billy clears his throat, his gaze up at you. He still makes no move to do anything. He doesn’t dive for his gun that’s a couple feet away. He doesn’t try to steal your gun. He doesn’t try to shove or push you away. He’s toying and it’s killing you. 

“Darlin’, listen, maybe we could work out-”

He’s cut off by a shot ringing out. You shot right next to him, so close to him, the bullet whizzed past his ear before landing somewhere behind him. The amount of unadulterated power you feel when you see his expression morph into something of genuine fear makes your stomach heat up more than it should. 

“Mr. Bonney, while I appreciate a negotiation, the price for your head is worth more than anything you could possibly give me.” As you cock your gun again, the movement casual, almost nonchalant as though you don’t have the ability to end his life in the manner of a second. 

Billy’s eyes never leave your figure. He looks up at you with a glint of what you can classify as fear, but also interest. You try to ignore that second part. His eyes are widened and wet, but you’re not sure if that’s incoming tears or just how his eyes are. 

“Your nose is bigger than the poster’s detail,” you blurt out. Why? Why the fuck would you say that? At least you didn’t say he looked more handsome than his picture. More rugged. He’s got a boyish charm that you could easily get hooked to if it wasn’t your job to wrangle in outlaws just like him. 

He doesn’t tease, no, Billy still looks frightened. Is that an act? You almost wanna ask him. 

“You have been followin’ me,” he says, more of a statement this time than a question. You give a nod to confirm it for him, because it doesn’t matter. And you’re wasting time, gun to his head and standing here while he’s on his knees. 

“Now, I’m gonna tie you up a bit so you can’t-”

“I’ll give you somethin’. If you let me go,” he interrupts, his eyes still fucking shining like they hold every single truth of the world. He says it with so much conviction, you almost want to indulge him. 

“Yeah? More than the money on your head?” You knock your gun against his head and he winces despite there being no pain from a few small bumps of your gun. 

Billy goes to speak, but in an instant, he decides to grab at your hips, and he tugs you down with him as he sits. On instinct, you squeeze the trigger, but your hand was already dislodged from it’s position, so the shot rings out beside him instead of at his head. It makes his breath quicken, as yours hitches, your body sat against him, his hold tight on your hips. 

His strong thigh is nestled right between your legs and you glare at him, cocking your gun again and holding it to his head, “What the fuck do you think-”

“You’re a very good poker player,” he says, his voice closer to a whisper than the volume he was speaking before. 

Your head cocks, a confused look dawning your face, “I know that.” 

“Are you alone? Do this all…alone?” Billy swallows hard, shifting his thigh ever so slightly and you instinctively shift too. The fabric of your trousers and his separates the two of you enough, but his words ring true, reminding you of the vacancy of touch in your life. Suddenly you hate him even more. 

“That’s none of your business. But I guess there might be a use for you while I drag you back to Lincoln,” you whisper sharply, getting closer to his face than you might have intended to. 

His breath is shaky, “What’s that darlin’?” Billy looks at your lips. You count it. It was three seconds. Three seconds too long and three seconds too short. 

“You can’t charm me.” You don’t believe your words. In fact, you wonder if his stupid eyes are entranced with a curse solely set out to destroy you. They’re urging you to do something. 

To kiss him. To rub on him. To kill him. 

Billy doesn’t speak another word, but he tilts his head ever so slightly against your gun, the tip of his nose brushing to yours. The floodgates open and you surge forward, your usually careful precision breaking as your lips crash to his. The gun stays to his temple like it’s meant to be there. 

Billy kisses you back in a slower manner, like he wants to take his time with it, but fuck that. You push into him, wanting to own his mouth, feel his tongue slip against yours, suck his bottom lip till it’s even redder than his natural color. 

When he lets out the smallest of moans into the kiss, you start the drag of your hips against his meaty thigh, a rampant, erratic motion that has your finger slipping from the trigger. It snaps you out of it for a moment, but you pull back from the kiss, your breath panting as you grind on him. Billy’s hands never stray from your hips, they hold there, and help a very minimal amount. 

His mouth, now parted, his eyes, as deathly as ever. 

Billy goes to say something and you shake your head, “Shut the fuck up,” and without a though, you drag the gun to his cheek, pressing it into him, watching his eyes flutter in fear and arousal. 

If you chanced a look down to his lap, you would see the bulge growing in his trousers, but you can’t look away from his face. 

Your hips never stutter. They’re on a mission, despite the fact you would get more friction if they were off, this is enough. Enough to feel that heat building up inside of you and enough to make you feel something you haven’t felt in so long. 

Billy mumbles, “Oh fuck,” as you shift, so that every time you grind up closer to his body, you’re grazing near his bulge. It’s much less friction for him. He barely gets any, but that small amount makes his eyes glaze. 

Is he under your curse now? Is that what this is?

Your finger almost slips the trigger again and it makes you grunt out in frustration. Your movements are so harsh, you’re surprised you haven’t accidentally shot the gun. Billy’s eyes flicker to the death trap in your hand, and he goes to speak again. 

You pull the barrel from his cheek down to his mouth, the opening grazing his pretty lips. His mouth stays parted, his eyes telling you he too, doesn’t know why he’s got his mouth open. You count to three in your head and his mouth is still open. Your restraint is gone, the grinding of your clothed cunt on his lap prickles at your skin, and you don’t need to think anymore. 

You shove the tip of the gun into his mouth and he fully closes his eyes this time. 

“Good fuckin’ boy,” you grunt, a moan leaving your lips as you sit up more on him, rubbing on him quicker. Your life depended on it. You push the gun deeper into his mouth and grab at his jaw with your other hand, coaxing him to open his mouth a little wider. 

“Y’know, I could kill you right now,” you breathe out, sneering right in his face as a whimper leaves you. You push down a little harder against his thigh, chasing that feeling that’s approaching. 

“I could kill you so fuckin’ easily. The one who killed Billy the Kid…that could be me right now…all cause you…you took her fuckin’ gun in your mouth.”

How could he be so pretty with it? His eyes tear as you push the gun into his mouth enough to make him gag, but all it does is spur your movements on. You grant him som decency to take some of the gun out of his mouth so he won’t choke on it, but you don’t take it out fully, the sight of him with it is doing too much. Why do you love this? You can’t question yourself right now, but you know it’s fucking sick. He looks lewd, swallowing against the barrel, eyes fluttering and chest heaving as you rock yourself on him to completion. 

When it happens, you moan louder, arching against his body, rubbing yourself on him in quick motions so you can feel every part of that orgasm you so deeply needed. 

Then, you squeeze the trigger. 

Click. 

You have to laugh. A breathless laugh. His eyes are wider. Some of the arousal a bit loss, but still lingering there, and you glance down at his lap, a small wet spot forming on the crotch of his trousers. 

“Seriously?” You taunt him and then slowly slide the gun out of his mouth, your eyes stuck to the string of spit coming from him, and the wetness on your barrel. 

It’s in the flash of a moment that Billy is grabbing your wrist, his bigger hand holding excrucaitingyl tight to you as he forces you to drop the gun. He grabs it with his other hand before you could make a move and he throws it. 

He stands, your wrist still tight in his hand, and doesn’t look back as he drags you the couple feet to his gunbelt, where he grabs his gun, cocking it. He lets go of your wrist with a small shove and points it at you. 

You’re stunned for a moment, processing the sequence of events that just occurred, your mind running rampant and your body still jittery from what the two of you just did. You stay leaned back on your hands, at his mercy, “Go ahead then. Kill me, if you must.” There’s no purpose to your voice. You could scramble for your gun but he could shoot you easily. You could run up and tackle him for his gun, but he’d still have the upperhand. 

You fucked up.

His cursed eyes and just him. Is this why he keeps escaping jails and lawmen?

“I said, kill me,” you say it again, and Billy’s arm is still straight out, gun pointed directly at your heart. His chest is still heaving and his mouth wet and red. 

He lets the moment linger, like he had back at the poker table, then he uncocks his gun, settling it in it’s home in his holster. He leans down to fix his belt on himself on then places his hat back on his head. “I don’t kill women, darlin’.” 

With one more look, his blue eyes cast their last spell, but you’re not sure what. Lingering lust? Arrogance? Pity? He backs off, his gait a saunter. Billy full-on turns his back on you, something so confident it makes you gasp. 

You’re not sure how long you lay there in the dirt and grass, running through the entire encounter, but you know one thing’s for sure.

You’re going to capture that motherfucker someday.

[lily-fics-11]

I Can See You: Chapter 1 (Ellie Williams, TLOU)

I Can See You

Fic master post here

*Not beta read

Ellie Williams is a player, on and off the lacrosse field. You begin tutoring her so that she can get her grades up and stay on the team. You try to keep things professional, however, your affection is a great motivator. Ellie wouldn't be caught dead with you so you become her secret mission. 

Chapter 1

You’ve started tutoring Ellie and things don’t go as expected. She’s trying to convince you to kiss her to keep her doing her work. But not to kiss and tell.

Word count: 2.4k

CW: No use of y/n, profanities, *Ellie and reader are both 18*

The first time you kissed Ellie Williams was right in the middle of your 3rd tutoring session during the first week of March. 

She is the star of the girl's lacrosse team and they threatened to bench her if she didn’t improve her grades. 

Truth be told, Ellie has far greater academic aptitude than you expected. However, she spends most of her time in class flirting with the popular girls and cracking jokes instead of paying attention.

All you really have to do is go over the material and make sure she pays attention. Once she actually got to work, she would fly through everything, but keeping her focused was a far greater challenge than you had anticipated

The first meeting Ellie told you all about lacrosse, and you wouldn’t understand what she was talking about even if you wanted to. “You won’t get to play lacrosse if you don’t get any work done,” you reminded her. 

The second meeting you found out that Ellie is secretly a nerd, when she ranted about comic books. You had brought it up and it turns out you like some of the same ones. Ellie couldn't contain herself, but she made you swear not to tell anyone about it. 

Meeting three was when Ellie found out how to keep you distracted. She noticed the little pride pin on your backpack and started using her charm on you. 

You meet 2 times a class cycle because you were helping her with calculus and English on A days and chem and Spanish on C. You both have the same study hall so they assigned you to her. Can’t take away from the superstar’s practice time after school. 

“That rainbow pin on your bag,” Ellie smirks. “Are you…?”

“Rainbow in a women are hot way? Yes, I’ve been out for a while, so I thought everyone knew. I guess it’s only the people who pay attention.”

“I pay attention!” She actually looks offended. 

You sigh. “To cheerleaders, in short skirts. And popular girls in expensive clothes. Any girl with a couple thousand followers on Instagram.” Although you suspect that there is more to Ellie than there seems to be, there is no ignoring her taste in women.

“Not very feminist of you, judging those girls, I see that pin too.” She shakes her head in sarcastic disapproval.

“I would never judge anyone for anything like that. I admire anyone who is brave enough to express themselves in the way they want to. I’m judging you. For having such a narrow gaze.” Your smile is so sickeningly sweet it could rot her teeth. 

Ellie’s jaw drops, she really thought she had you there. “Come on now, I pay attention to all sorts of girls.”

You cover your face with your hands. “All right then, you’ve spent enough time sitting across from me, what color are my eyes, Ellie?”

“I… uh…” she stutters, at a loss for words. 

You uncover your face and comically bulge your eyes. 

Ellie raises her eyebrows and nods. “Now that I see them, that is exactly the color I was going to say.” 

“Bull shit.”

“Fine,” Ellie rolls her eyes, “ask me another question. If I get it wrong you will get 15 minutes of uninterrupted work from me.”

“What’s my last name?”

“That’s easy… you sit next to Carly in calculus, so your last name must start with R or S.”

You cut her off before she can continue, you'd be here all day. “I’ll stop you right there. We are not in the same calculus class.”

She purses her lips and squints her eyes. “Then why are you tutoring me in calculus?”

“Well, I am in honors, so I’m a year ahead. I got an A in it last year.”

Ellie scratches the back of her head. “That does actually make sense.”

You slide a worksheet over to her. “How about we start that uninterrupted work.”

She doesn’t even look down at the pieces of paper. 

“Just one more question? If I get it wrong, I will shut up for the rest of the period.”

She leans forward and gives you a charming smile, which you ignore to the best of your ability. 

“I love watching you bet against yourself,” you admit, leaning back in your chair with a smirk.

“I’m not done. If I get it right…” mischief flickers in those enchanting green eyes. “… I get a kiss.” 

Her smile would melt most girls' hearts, and you are no exception. You’d be lying if you said you’ve never watched her walk down the hallway before. Ellie swaggers through the crowds, that part for her like the red sea, with a shit eating grin and her chin turned up. She’s drop dead gorgeous, and her gravitational field is strong, all eyes are always on her. The girl practically oozes charisma. 

But you know how to play it cool.

“A kiss? Seriously? That’s what you want?” You scoff, though you certainly wouldn't’ mind.

“Yeah.” She says as if it’s obvious. 

“Why?” You are very suspicious. “I don’t fit any of your criteria.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Ellie leans over and rests her elbows on the table, folds her hands together. “Now that I’m paying attention, your eyes are really pretty.”

“You’re fucking with me, Williams,” you huff, annoyed by her wasting your time. 

She smirks at you. “I’m serious. You’re actually way prettier than half the girls I’ve hooked up with.

“I’m so flattered.” You say sarcastically and start to organize the things spread out on the table. 

“I’m being serious!” She says and playfully slams her hands down on the table. 

“Only half?” You chuckle.

“I just… I… I guess not.” That makes your eyebrows raise and your nose scrunch in disgust. You run your tongue along the inside of your mouth.

“Actually, more than most.,.” Ellie stutters, her eyes darting around. 

You cross your arms over your chest and bite back a smile. “What’s my favorite song?”

“What’s your favorite song?” She echos back. 

“Guess it right and you can have a kiss.”

You’ve never seen Ellie concentrate so hard. You can only assume that this is her game day face.

“Its… it’s…” and she guesses… correctly?

You gasp, totally flabbergasted. “How the hell did you know that?”

She looks like she just won jeopardy. “You requested it in gym the other day.”

You blink rapidly in shock. “And you remembered?”

Ellie sits back and crosses her arms confidently. “Believe it or not we have a similar taste in music”

“You’re right. I don’t believe it.”

“Either way, I still won my prize,” she winks at you.

“Prize? Oh, yeah,” you laugh and roll your eyes. 

You lean over and give her a quick peck on the lips

She looks disgusted.

If looks could kill Ellie Williams would have been slaughtered right there in the school library. 

“Fucking hell, am I really that bad of a kisser?”

She squints her eyes and shakes her head no. “I wouldn’t know, that wasn’t a real kiss.” You run your hand through your hair. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Ellie looks deep into your eyes, like she’s staring right at your soul, and licks her lips. She slowly moves her hand to your face and cups your chin. She tilts your face up and smirks before pulling your lips into hers. Ellie does not hold back. 

Though you’ve never kissed each other before, it feels like you’ve kissed a thousand times. You don’t have to find a rhythm; you just fall in sync. Something about the way she tastes is so familiar. Who were you to deny yourself a good kiss with an attractive girl?

Ellie pulls away but leaves her hand on your chin. “That is a kiss.”

You lightly grab her by the wrist and place her hand on the table. “You still owe me 15 minutes of work.”

Ellie fake pouts. “Is that all you have to say to me? Was that not the best kiss of your life?”

Your palm meets your forehead. “You really are full of yourself. It’s time to get this stuff done.”

“All I’ll say is that maybe this could be a method of keeping me motivated.”

“You’re ridiculous!” 

She’s got a wide grin on her face; she’s waiting to prove you wrong. “You say that now, but I’m sure you’ll find yourself offering up bigger and bigger prizes, and not just to shut me up. But let’s keep this between us.”

It’s your next meeting and you are supposed to work on her chem homework and edit her English essay. 

“How about we work on your essay first?”

She nods and opens her notebook… to an empty page. She looks over at you expectantly and you gesture at it with confusion. 

“That doesn’t look like an essay to me,” you sigh. 

“I just wasn’t feeling motivated. So, I thought maybe, just maybe, you could kiss me after every paragraph. It would help me write.” Ellie licks her lips and tries to seduce you with her alluring eyes. 

“I think it’s best, for the both of us, to keep things professional.”

“Not best for me, it’s a proven method!” She exclaims as if it’s obvious. 

“You’d have to run the experiment more than once to prove something.”

“Fine, you can be the x axis and I can be the y axis.”

You fold your hands together. “I’m proud of you for that even if it doesn’t make sense. Do you know how many people have caught feelings for me while I tutor them?”

“First of all, I don’t catch feelings. Second of all, it can't be that many. 

“Underestimating is a dangerous game, Williams, a star athlete like you know that. 4 of 7 straight guys, 2 of 2 queer girls and 1 of 4 straight girls.

Ellie brings her hand to her chin and nods in approval. “I have to say, I’m impressed. Game recognizes game. That’s why you don’t have to worry about me catching feelings.”

“We can use that as a last resort. Can we please try and be professional?” You are borderline begging her. 

“Ughhhhh,” she groans and pouts her lips, trying to get you to look at them. You can neither confirm nor deny that it worked.

“I don’t care who you are, Ellie, you won’t be getting any special treatment from me.”

“We will see about that.”

Ellie was surprisingly cooperative while you outlined the essay theme. She even stayed focused while writing the intro.

But while working on the outlines for the body paragraphs she would hit you with a pickup line as often as she could. Somehow, she knew exactly where the sweet spot was, enough to satisfy herself, but not too many that you would get fed up with her and tell her to stop. 

“I finished the intro, how about we work on the intro of me and you?”

“I think this paragraph proves I know how to handle a beautiful body.”

Ellie kept holding the eraser side of the pencil to her lips and glancing over to see if it had you looking where she wanted you to. It's painful to admit, but you couldn’t look away.

After mapping out all of the paragraphs you switch over to chemistry. 

“Let’s go over the basics for this topic. What can you tell me about entropy without looking at your notes?” You ask her this very hesitantly, you don’t want to put too much pressure on her.

“Chaos and disorder.” Ellie smiles like an evil villain, as if those are her two favorite things. 

You give her a nod of approval. “That’s a good start, do you remember how the amount of disorder correlates to the amount of entropy?”

Her face scrunches up while she thinks. “More disorder is more entropy.”

“Perfect.” That puts a devilish grin on Ellie’s face. “If you kissed me I would have less entropy.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, I'm sure you would.” You are completely monotone. “If the reaction is positive do the reactants or the products have higher entropy.”

Ellie straightens up her posture. “The products. So, if kissing was the product there may be a lot of entropy, but it would also be positive.”

“Ellie, if you found some internal motivation you would excel. Not just pass these classes and be able to play lacrosse but do really well. You are smart and I don’t think you give yourself enough credit.” You made sure that your tone was soft and reassuring. You really mean it and don’t want to sound condescending.

If you didn’t know any better, you would say that Ellie was on the verge of tearing up. “Really?”

“Yes of course.”

“Nobody ever expects more of me than playing well in lacrosse.” She’s looking anywhere but at you and playing with the pencil in her hand.

“I don’t know you well, but I can tell there is much more to you.”

Ellie looks so lost. “Of course,” she mutters. “I seduce every girl I see.”

That is absolutely not what you meant, even if it had been in the back of your mind. 

You softly give Ellie your opinion on the situation, whether it’s your place or not. This girl obviously doesn’t talk about things like this very much and you want her to know it’s ok to be vulnerable and communicate. 

“If the way you are with me is any indication of the way you are with other girls, and I don’t want to step out of line here- but I feel like you can handle honesty- it’s a defense mechanism. Deflection specifically.”

Ellie’s eyes shoot wide open and her jaw drops. “Fuck! You are smart.” 

You shake your head and smile. “I wouldn’t say that makes me smart, I’m just not shallow like everyone else in this godforsaken town.”

Ellie leans back in her chair so far that it looks like it’s about to tip over. She is staring up at the ceiling when she mumbles. “I think you’re the only one.”

“I don’t think you are either; I think you pretend to be. In order to survive.”

“What are you, some sort of therapist?”

“I’d be lying if I said I haven’t spent hours researching this type of thing because I find it interesting.”

“You can’t tell anyone about this.”

“Under one condition, we keep things professional.”

*if anyone is interested in a tag list lmk!

[shirecorn]

Your reindeer designs give me such childish joy I can't wait to see the rest. What's your process (aka any advice) for designing from scratch with something like just a name or concept?

Redbubble (buy reindeer swag) || Patreon (see all early!) || Ko-fi

See more free tutorials!

You can see my process unfold in real time by joining any tier of my patreon discord. Which doesn't even have to go through patreon! If you want, you can just pay me $20 and let you in for a year (and then lose track and probably keep you anyway)

Here's a preview using comet! (nevermind the preview thing I wrote you a whole lecture lol)

initial sketches in 2021:

Revisited in 2022 and 2023

I was constantly asking which design was the weakest, why, and how to fix it. Whenever I tested without the magical comet behind it, people could only guess who comet was by process of elimination.

I didn't want to rely on throwing icons into the design. I wanted each one to communicate through shape and silhouette alone. It would be like drawing a little cherub with a bow and arrow floating along with cupid. If you have to include a nametag to communicate, your design can be improved.

So I tried a few different strategies to say "comet" before I realized I could twist the antlers into any shape I wanted. I was worried I would have to discard the drawing and restart from scratch! Which is what I did for rudolph about 6 times before I had a breakthrough.

Then I gave my patrons a brief lesson in antlers to explain where and why I was placing the tines. When I stray from the caribou structure, I do so knowingly in order to achieve something that cannot be achieved within the caribou shape, like dancer's tutu. Know the rules before you break them. My goal is to make animal nerds (myself chief among them) happy when they see species-specific anatomy instead of cop outs.

I tried a few things before figuring out antlers could become comet

Another thing that often caribou have is an unsymmetrical "spork" that comes forward off only one antler. I figured this out by looking at hundreds of reindeer pictures and saving them to my reference folder. A few of my designs have this, that's what the little spiral is in the final comet antler design.

When I put comet in my lineup, I realized that the antlers I drew were way more stylized, chunky, and "tribal" than the others. I had already changed the proportions on one of my designs to match, so then I had to hack away at the basic comet rack to make it look natural.

I already knew that comet's colors would be easy because a basic reindeer already Has the big comet on the shoulder. But here's a peak at all the reindeer images I posted for my patrons to look at.

As you can see below, I chose reindeer markings for all my designs instead of other deer or animals. Even vixen is tied to actually possible reindeer patterns rather than copy-pasting a fox. Almost all of my designs have light-colored anklets on dark colored legs, which is very common with caribou of any color. This is the sort of thing no one tells you; you have to observe it yourself.

Ft cupid's early design! I was continually testing out my reindeer silhouettes and colors on new people, taking their feedback, and fixing what wasn't clicking.

I know I could have made vixen sexy and curvy to play into a recognizable trope, but I really wanted them to be scary and fox-like. Sometimes you gotta do what you want and not what you think will appeal to audiences. Reindeer Days is a purposeful exercise in audience resonance. Most of my art is 100% me and what I feel like doing with no regards to anyone else. So it was a fun challenge!

My patrons also got to see me making fun of corporate designs for recognizably/cliches at the expense of literally anything good

One of these is going to get a lot more "that must be vixen!" results from people who aren't constantly thinking about animal colors, markings, hunting strategies, and teeth.

And one rocks.

Vixen changed the least from the initial 2021 concept!

A Vixen is a female fox. In english slang, it means a cunning, fierce human woman, and sometimes sexually attractive or promiscuous. Quite often an insult to someone because she won't date you!

But to me, a vixen is an animal. A predator.

When designing to reference something, I like to hit it at multiple angles, referencing obscure trivia about something to delight and educate. This is done by researching a topic deeply, far below surface level and beyond what you think you need to make your design. Or in my case its just knowing a bunch of animal trivia already.

After researching/dredging your knowledge, sit there and Think. Don't draw anything. Come up with several ideas and then throw them all in at once for the ultimate trivia design.

Trivia about red foxes:

They have Long bushy tails

They have teeth that include large sharp canines, flat incisors, triangular premolars, and chunky molars with points on them that slide scissor-like with the molars above to cut meat via chewing

They hunt rodents in burrows under the snow by jumping into the air, arcing, and slamming down with their face through the snow

They are orange

They have a dark vertical stripe on their snout

They have black legs, with the backs and bottoms being orange

Translated into the design:

Pose based on a fox jumping, about to land in the snow

Antlers twisted to resemble teeth

Long (for a reindeer) bushy tail

black mark on snout

Some adjustment to the pose to be at the top of the arc and flow better.

Tinkering with the design to make it recognizable but not 100% copypasta fox

I was finally happy with a design that absolutely showed "fox" while still being creative and plausibly caribou shaped. This would absolutely communicate who it is! I thought!

The most obvious one of the bunch! After all, everyone knows what a vixen is!

Nope! No they do not

Want to be part of the design process, help me with WIPs months before everyone else, see exclusive doodles every day, and join a funky little community?

(you also get to see photos of my dog)

Connect your discord to your patreon and join any tier to automatically get added to the server. Not a fan of patreon or monthly subscriptions? message me here, on ko-fi, or via email (shirecorn.art@ gmail.com) and ask if you can pay $20 to get put in the server for at least a year and longer if we work it out later!

This was supposed to be a preview to get you to pay me but instead I wrote an entire lecture for free because I can't help myself.

Want to thank me for the free info? Tag me when you use what you learned! Comment and give feedback! If I could pay rent with attention I would never need anything else in life.

You can also thank me by tipping my ko-fi! I use it to buy pens since I die if I have caffeine. But could you imagine??

[icaruskey]

Oh! Oh! Can you do the human diguise? Just anything really.

But if you want ideas I'm thinking maybe...

Sun wants to read some books but he himself doesn't know where to even start because outside of a few picture books for abolute toddlers DCA never even held a one in their hands!

maybe about knitting? or general survival tricks? or maybe just some novels?

So Sun asks librarian for recomendations but in his excitment he goes thourght books far faster that should be humaly possible and then he catches himself and is seriously afraid but

the librarian just worry the books they recomend must be not what Sun needed because this guy CLEARLY doesn't read them at all.

Ahh you've unlocked a core memory of mine. I might've gone off the rails and put a little too much of me into y/n but here we are.

As always, Human Disguise AU belongs to @pillowspace. She just lets me play in her sandbox.

"You haven't even used your library card yet?" You're almost offended for the library honestly. A building full of worlds and your new friend hasn't even touched them.

"It's been a bit hard to find the time, buuut I want to!" Sun's quick to reassure you when you frown (pout really) at him. "I do, I promise. Maybe you can give me some recommendations on where to start?"

The magic words. Every job has that One Task that makes it worth it. When you had been a cashier it'd been your uncanny ability to pack bags perfectly. As a janitor, it was leaving a floor sparkling clean after a night pushing the waxer. And here?

Here it was finding the perfect book for someone to read.

"Okay let me think," you say, grabbing a cart of returns to push. "I don't know if you're more of a nonfiction or fiction reader. I need some clues."

Sun's chuckle is just a little on the shy side. Cute. "I'm not entirely sure I know either. Sorry." At your exaggerated sigh, you catch a glimpse of his gloved hands raising in mock surrender. "I really will enjoy whatever you decide!"

"Okay well, you've given me a challenge. Let's find a few things and see what you like the most." You shove the cart a little too hard around the corner, catching a misplaced stool. The cart jerks and Sun grabs it before you can tip it over and lose all your books. "Oh sorry! Are you okay?" This is what you get for being too excited.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Are you?" Sun rests his hand on you for just a moment, jerking away just as if he's been burned. It hurts, just a little, but he just seems to be adverse to touch. So you bite your tongue and deal.

"I'm fine. You're my hero, saving the cart," you say, watching Sun's face. He turns away, and you can only guess he's being shy. "Anyway, I have an idea for your first book."

"Oh?" He trails after you as you abandon your cart, far too excited. You duck into the crafts section, finding the colorful spine of a well worn book. "Knitting?"

"You're always so bundled up. I think you'll enjoy making your own mittens and things. Oh and! Arthurian legends. That'll be a good litmus test for what sort of stories you like."

Sun takes the knitting book and follows you as you go from shelf to shelf, creating a precarious pile in his arms. Your cart has been lost to the stacks, and you find yourself babbling about the different people you've helped find books for over the years.

"You love books," Sun says as you make it back it back to the reference desk to check him out.

"I do," you agree, smiling to yourself. "I read a lot as a kid. It was like... I don't know. Having friends? It sounds silly, I know."

"I don't think so." Sun brushes against your hand again on a cover decorated with embossed ivy and a golden sword. You freeze, and his hand lingers, close enough you can feel the tickle of his glove's fuzzy thread. "I think it's wonderful you were able to find friends in these stories. I can't wait to meet them myself."

You sort of stumble through the rest of the conversation, face hot. Usually it's easy enough to laugh off your own excitement sharing books, but with Sun responding so earnestly...

It's nearly dark out when you finally get off, yawning and stretching. You had to relocate your cart and spent the rest of the day putting things away and trying not to seek out your friend as he read. You'd noticed the one book, the Arthurian one, already back in the return bin.

Sun is waiting for you at the door, as he has been doing the past week and change. "I take it King Arthur wasn't up to your taste?" You ask by way of greeting.

"What? Oh, no! I loved it. The knights are so gallant. But it's so melancholic as well, reading their adventures. I feel bad for Lady Morgan the most."

"You do?" Sun is a reassuring presence in the evening light. "But you've already returned it."

"Oh, um." There's a heavy pause. "I think I just got so invested in the story I forgot to put it down."

You knew fast readers, and that seemed nearly plausible. Nearly. You still give a doubtful squint at him. But maybe you're being too judgemental. "I'll see if I can't find any happier stories with Morgan in them. She used to be a healer, you know. In the early stories."

"Really? Tell me about them."

You're more than happy to, tracing the memories of the old stories in the air as you speak. You nearly miss your road, stumbling to a stop when you hit an unfamiliar crack in the sidewalk. And it's there you say goodnight, leaving Sun to go home himself with thoughts of gallant knights and magic swords to keep himself occupied until you saw him again.

[roodles03]

The Owl House Mermay Marathon: Huntlow (6/6)

Welp, I'm sure this isn't a surprise to any of you who follow me. Finally, it's Huntlow's turn, ending this marathon with my absolute favorite ship in the show.

Fun Fact: I drew these in order from the ship I liked the least to the ship I liked the most. Made the process more fun in the long run.

This one is definitely my favorite one I've drawn, and no, it's not because it's huntlow. I just feel like this one I drew the best.

Willow was a nice change from how I drew pretty much every other mermaid. And its all because of her body size. I have drawn Willow as a mermaid before, but I feel like I didn't do her body size justice in those old drawings. Part of this is I originally drew more Willow mid-sized to match how they drew her in the show, but over time, I slowly began drawing her bigger on purpose to celebrate her body type. (Body postivity is very important!) This is especially prevalent in this drawing. I drew her tail to be shorter and fatter, and made sure to give her some belly fat. I also decided to draw her hair down instead of the braids because I felt like that would be more practical for being underwater. Also, it allowed me to play with underwater hair physics a lot more.

Moving on to Hunter, he was definitely the most complicated mermaid I had to draw for this marathon. (Darius being the second.) And it was because I had to figure out how to incorporate his new scar map into the tail and fins. I have also drawn Hunter as a mermaid before, however, that design was much easier because his scar map was much simpler at the time. The notches were easy to design (although it still made drawing him more complicated due to the layer manipulation required to get the notches and the veins to look right.) But the real challenge was the scars on the tail itself. I do have a headcannon scar map I drew of Hunter for referening, but that didn't help much when having to transfer the scar map from his legs to his tail. I pretty much had to guess. I am happy with what I came up with, though. However, that was only half the battle. In the previous mermay, I used the exact same color scheme for the scars on his tail as the scars on his skin, but I decided to be more creative this time and make the tail scars their own color. Finding the right colors definitely took a while, but I'm really happy with how it came out in the end.

I might make even more Huntlow mermay for mermay this year. We'll see if I come up with any more ideas.

Also, fun fact: I was actually planning on doing some of the most popular non-romantic relationships for this marathon, too. Them being Dadrius and labyrinthbros, but I had pretty much no ideas for these, so I scrapped that idea.

I hope you enjoyed the marathon! Because I definitely had a lot of fun making these.

[inksandpensblog]

AvA Sticktober 2023 | Prompt 1: Sticks

"And this," Orange proclaimed, flourishing the object in his hands, "is the master stick. Whoever picks this one up can use it to move other sticks during their turn. It also has the most points out of all the colors."

"Oh," Yellow's brow furrowed. "It's not just one point per stick?"

"I thought the colors were just so we could tell them apart," Red chimed in.

"Nope." Orange glanced at the rules. "It says that each individual stick has a set value of points, based on color: yellows are one, greens are two, blues are five, and reds are ten."

Yellow frowned, staring at the collection of sticks on the floor between them with a thoughtful hand held to his chin. 

Green seemed to be of a similar mind, pulling out his phone and swiping his hand across the screen. "Greens are only two?"

"Uh, yeah? Why?"

"Are you mad that yours aren't worth as many points?" Blue guessed, a smirk dashing across his face at Green's answering pout.

Orange stared. "What? They're not- the colors aren't assigned to players. Anyone can pick up any color; otherwise there'd be a way to eliminate players. And there aren't any orange sticks, so I wouldn't be able to play if—"

Orange cut himself off when Green scowled at his phone, swiping at the screen with more vigor.

Red leaned in, peeking over Green's shoulder. "Huh, different variations?"

Green pushed him lightly away. "Yeah, I was just checking the numbers. There's other versions of the game where the colors are a different amount of points."

"But it's the same order every time," Red persisted, trying to lean back in as Green kept shoving at him. "See, look, red is always the most, and—"

"Shush, you're ruining this!"

"Green does have a point," Yellow ventured.

"Yeah, I do!"

"No, he doesn't," Blue maintained. "You two are just grumpy that you aren't more points."

"Guys," Orange insisted, "the colors have nothing to do with you."

Yellow shook his head. "I didn't mean like that! I mean it doesn't make sense that some colors are worth more when the game has the same number of sticks in each color!"

"Oh," came the answering chorus, followed by everyone joining Yellow in squinting at the collection of sticks on the floor. 

"...huh, that is a good point..."

"Yeah, shouldn't the sticks that are worth more be rarer, or something?"

"That is odd..."

"...maybe we should just play it as one point per stick, then?" Blue suggested.

Orange scratched his head. "But where's the challenge, that way? If everything's worth the same value then there's no reason to not just go for the easiest ones every time." 

"And speaking of easy, what about all the ones that end up outside of the pile?" Red gestured at the floor around which the collection of sticks lay. "Whoever goes first can just sweep all of those up on their first turn, they'll have a head start." 

"Oh, we don't need to worry about that, actually." Green looked up from his phone. "This says that a lot of people have it so that those loose sticks are removed from play before the first player goes." 

Orange nodded. "Okay, I like that, we'll do it that way."

"Hey, what if we use that to determine the value?" Blue volunteered. "We look at those loose sticks that get removed from play, and measure the value of each color based on how much of each one got taken out?" 

"That...that could work, actually," Yellow mused.

Orange nodded again, a smile beginning to form on his own face. "We'll make it so that whichever color is present in the greatest volume is one point, next two, then five, and then the least-available color will be ten. If any of them tie, we can just re-drop the pile."

Green grinned. "Well, since you brought it up...this also says that there's a version where, on their turn, a player can decided to re-drop the pile instead of picking up a stick."

Orange froze. "Uh, I don't know if I want to worry about the value of each stick changing partway through the game."

"Oh, fine, play it safe."

"I'm not being safe, I'm trying to keep it fun for everybody. Including the scorekeeper."

"Eh, fair point."

"How many points is the master stick worth?" Blue piped up.

"None, right?" Yellow reasoned. "It helps you pick up more sticks; that's it's value. Oh, but wait," he frowned again, turning to Orange. "You said it had more points than the others, didn't you?"

Orange winced. "Yeah, actually. It's, uh, twenty-five."

"What?!"

"How is that fair?!"

"It's- it's not an automatic win! If it's at the bottom of the pile then—"

"But what if it isn't? What if it falls on the top?"

"Oh forget it just falling on top, what if it's one of the ones that rolls away? If we were keeping those in play, whoever had the first turn could sweep it up with the rest of 'em and then they'd have it for the whole game when they already have a head start!!"

"But we already decided we're not keeping them in play!" Orange raised his voice, waving his hands. "Why is it an issue then?!"

"Because points!"

"There's only one! It being more points is actually justified!"

"Maybe it would be, if that was all it did. But it also helps you pick up other sticks. Anyone who picks it up is already gonna be getting more points, even without it having twenty-five pre-attached! You have to admit, that's a little unfair."

"Well, I'm not hearing any better ideas! What, should we just set it aside and not have it in the game?"

"No, no!"

"What? Oh, no."

"No!!"

"Nobody's saying that."

Orange blinked at the sudden shift. "...no?"

"Yeah," Red insisted. "It's the only stick that can move the other sticks."

Green nodded. "Having it to obtain during the game is, like, it's own prize, regardless of who has the most points by the end. That's why we don't think it having its own points is fair."

Orange considered, taking a moment to breathe. 

"Okay...what, then? Should we just have it be worth no points?" 

They all spent a moment in thought.

"...what if we passed it around?" 

Everyone looked at Blue.

"You mean," Yellow inquired, "once it's picked up, it has to be passed to the next person at the end of the turn? That kind of takes away that challenge, if everyone has it. And the prize-aspect."

But Blue shook his head. "Not quite; I mean, what if it gets passed around every time another stick is picked up?"

There was a pause, then everyone leaned forward.

"That way, it can't be used on every turn," Blue elaborated, "so whoever picks it up first isn't just guaranteed an easier time picking up sticks as the game continues. It'll be up to chance, whether anyone has it when their next turn starts." 

"...I think...I like that," Orange murmured cautiously. 

Blue nodded excitedly. "It also means that whoever is holding it by the end of the game will also be up to chance."

Orange's eyes widened. "So, it could still have the twenty-five points?"

"And it wouldn't be unfair," Green caught on, "because it wouldn't go into effect until the game ends."

"You know, if the master stick is only passed along when a stick is picked up, then if someone holding it were to purposefully botch their turn, they could prevent the person next to them from having the aid of the master stick at the start of their turn..." Yellow grinned.

"Ooh," Red wondered, "what if instead it starts at no points, but then has another point attached every time it's used successfully?"

"Whoa," Blue marveled. "So you can botch your turn and keep the master stick from your opponents, or increase the overall value of the master stick as you pass it along."

Orange felt his own grin form. "Oh. I do like that. Alright, are we all agreed?"

The quartet nodded enthusiastically.

"There's just one more thing: we need to repaint it."

"Huh?" Orange looked at Green, then at the others, then down at the black stick still in his hand. "Repaint it?"

"Like you said," Green teased. "There aren't any orange sticks in this game. Let's fix that."

[sailorsenshishitposter]

Blonde twink gets destroyed by the clap of Brazil's ass cheeks

Jet stream Sam:

You like Brazilian chads with dummy thicc thighs that save lives, are an avid listener to bury the light, or have probably never played any other Metal Gear game since you are an avid RaidenxSam shipper who tends to forget or not know that Raiden has a wife (to be fair Rose repeatedly manipulated him and is a terrible cook so obviously Sam is the better choice and you have good taste in husbandos).

First Date:

You were at the local strip club, your boyfriend recently having dumped you. You decided you would go get drunk and watch some hot men dance to ease your troubles. You poured down your tequila and burped. "This better be worth it!" You brought all the cash you had on you which was pathetically small since your only source of income was from working at Wal-Mart.

Suddenly bright lights were flashing in neon colors and for some reason it reminded you of your friends rgb pc setup. "Hey ladies, give it out to our first man of the night, the incredibly sexy Corrente de Jato" Next thing you knew, men and women around you were screaming like they were at a boy band concert. "I guess this guy must be really popular huh?" Soon catchy techno music was blasting and out came a rugged yet chiseled man.

"Lets dance!" He began taking off his clothes and was soon only wearing a thong, not leaving much to the imagination. His rythmn matched the beat and you had to admit that he was pretty good because he could do some wicked moves on that dance pole. The money started pouring in. "Yes, yes I like this!" the man thought. In the corner of the room a slight growl could faintly be heard. There was a lone cardboard box. Underneath of course was none of then Raiden.

"That bastard! So this is what he's been up to? Well I think it's time to make my entrance!" He slowly crept to the front of the row. "What the hell is that?" Raiden was bumping into more people than someone playing bumper cars so everyone eventually took notice and stopped paying attention to Sam. "Shit! I think I've been compromised. Alright, plan b!" He tore away the box and revealed himself.

"Raiden? Is that You? What on earth are you doing here!?" The cyborg pointed his blade at the Brazilian man. "I'm the one that should be asking you that! This sword is a tool of justice but tonight I shall prove that I'm the victor!" Samuel laughed. "By all means pretty boy, if you think this is so easy then why don't you try it yourself?" Raiden took this as a challenge and entered the spotlight. "Alright. Girls like hot guys with accents rights? I think I've got this."

He readjusted his sombrero. "Hola, putas! Se habla español." An angry woman threw her beer bottle at him. "TAKE IT OFF!" He tapped the mic. "Please bear with me ladies and gentlemen, the show will start momentarily. El elemento por favor!" He tore off his suit and smirked. "WHERE IS IT?" Raiden thought he was doing everything right. "Huh?" The crowd was getting restless. "WHERE'S HIS DICK!" Just before Raiden could protest and trauma dump to the entire audience about how the patriots removed most of his body, Sam interjected.

"Hey, why don't we get back to dancing!" The boos turned back into cheers and then Raiden noticed the difference in the crowds reactions. He decided to give dancing a shot. He may be Liberian but he is 100% white with the way he danced. "GET HIM OFF THE STAGE!" Raiden was starting to get angry. "YOU GUYS JUST DON'T APPRECIATE THE ROBOT! BESIDES, WHAT'S HE HAVE THAT I DON'T!"

In unison the drunk patrons began yelling "NO DICK! NO DICK! NO DICK! NO DICK!" The cyborg sighed. He began to feel himself losing to Jack the ripper. "Fuck this, I'll just kill Sam and go home." he thought. Raiden tore the dance pole down and began to use it like L'Etranger. He went to stab Sam but the man managed to parry him. "WHY WON'T YOU DIE!?" he screamed. Unfortunately for Raiden, he was oblivious to the fact that Samuel hadn't been dancing at all but had been doing capoeira.

"SHOW ME A GOOD TIME JACK!" Everyone began to evacuate as the two men battled and the speakers began to play the only thing I know for real. The building was soon turned into rubble and the men lay there motionless, panting. "Well I'm out of a job now blondie so you better find me some work." Raiden let out a loud "GOD DAMNIIIIIIT!" and curled into the fetal position. He didn't want to deal with this shit again.

[ribbonetteart]

A request for something a little different than usual 🍑👑

Progress stuff below:

I haven't done progress shots in a bit and I think it's something I want to do more often because I like talking and blogging I guess haha.

Now that I have more experience illustrating digitally, this kind of direct reference drawing is MUCH easier to do digitally 😫honestly this felt like a self imposed challenge lol. BUT I did want to do some more traditional stuff because I feel that I had been doing a little too much digital, if that makes sense. It's nice to play with my markers and color pencils once in a while too!!

Doing the line art on this piece ESPECIALLY felt easier to do traditionally than digitally. For some reason, trying to do line art on a tablet screen feels too smooth or slippery or something. Lining traditionally feels easier, probably because I put so much pressure on the paper in the sketch phase that when the lining phase comes next, it feels like I'm just following the lines on the page like a train on a track ^_^

despite uploading a couple of illustrations colored with marker now, I still feel a bit like a novice when it comes to marker. I got a new pack of markers that I wanted to play with, which was even more motivation to return to paper for a bit. But honestly, I feel like I fudged the window color blending. I watched tutorials and stuff on blending with markers but I guess I still need more practice ^^;;; at least it looks a bit messy to me. This is how this piece came to be a mixed media illustration, since I tried using color pencils to make that transition from blue to green on the windows a little smoother.

I think the pot holding the piranha plant came out a tad too saturated and it's calling too much attention compared to the very light floor and dresser. I was trying to follow the colors on the reference closely as an easy re-intro to traditional art, but next time I do something like this, I think I'll take more liberties with color and see what happens.

Overall, I'm quite happy with how Peach turned out. I don't draw humans too often since I typically draw Sonic characters lol. Sometimes it feels like I have to re-teach myself to draw people as a result. I really liked using the gelly roll for the highlights on her face and the polka dots on her shirt :3 I highly recommend using that pen as my previous experiences with other white gel pens don't compare to this one (not to sound like a commercial I'm just really happy it worked as well as it did!).

And finally, although redrawing a creation from a dress up game screenshot is probably not the most imaginative exercise I could be doing with illustration, I think it's fun and it's pushing me to do things outside of my comfort zone. I'm using new art tools (I'll get better with marker I prommy) and I drew a background! I'd like to do more backgrounds like this as a practice to encourage more original stuff. Maybe. One day. Probably.

If you read all of this until the end, thank you! Have a wonderful day, and thank you for following me and supporting my art :3c 💝

[tokyodolldiaries]

"Their insults are just hot air that will make us soar because our easy-going gal group is as light as cotton candy." - Ririko, page 53

RATING: 2/5 ☆ read the full review here ☆

Kechonpa by Chiaki Hijiri is about Charisma gal Ririko and her adventures playing amateur detective in Shibuya. The series was published in three volumes between 2009 and 2012.

The title, Kechonpa, comes from the onomatopoeic Japanese word that describes being beaten until you are black and blue. Ririko's friends call her this because of her frequent usage of hair dye.

Unfortunately, this manga is... not good. 

The writing is weak, and the artwork varies drastically in quality from page to page. Some of the art is great, with detailed linework and individualized characters, but Chiaki often drops the ball. However, knowing what I know about the manga industry, my guess is that this was due to a time or budget crunch (probably both), but it's disappointing regardless. The color portraits before and after each chapter are lovely. The girls look, as Ririko would say, "shiny and fab."

The story reads like a poor man's Nancy Drew. Ririko's innate investigative abilities shone through at times, but for the most part, she wasn't given much to do. It appears that Chiaki enjoyed the idea of having a plucky gyaru detective but was uninterested in or unfamiliar with the mystery genre itself. All of Ririko's "cases" are predictable. Ririko's gyaru-ness only helped her in one case: her extensive social network aided her in locating Akemi. I thought that was fantastic. It was a melding of two seemingly unconnected things: gyaru and detective work. But it's the only time we get stuff like that. 

This manga is like biting into a pastry that's hollow in the middle. There's not much happening below the surface. There was minimal police work, and aside from Ririko's delusional preoccupation with police inspector Hoshino Nii, virtually no romance. I actually don't mind Ririko's obsession. It's childish, but she's nineteen. I hope that in future volumes, it's used as a point of character growth. However, I hated Nii. He was a cardboard cutout of a man, not a helpful police officer or a compelling romantic interest. I wanted less of him in every scene.

It seems ever-apparent that gyaru is used as a visual indicator of Ririko's transformation. When Tamiko bleaches her hair, it unlocks the "real" Ririko, giving her the confidence she needs to speak her mind. This is another aspect of the manga I liked, as this is true for myself and many other gyaru I know. However, this powerful statement is hindered by the fact that Ririko and her gal friends are two-dimensional. While Ririko frequently waxes poetic about her challenging upbringing and engagement to Nii, the other girls are left to fend for scraps. As a result, we don't truly know who they are or why they're friends. 

Tamiko was, by in large, my favorite character in the manga. She wasn't particularly developed either, but I loved what I saw of her. Her warm presence and maturity balanced out the youthful vapidity of Ririko and her friends. She embodied everything good about an older sister gal. I wish the manga had been about her. 

I'll be the first to admit that I chose this manga based on its cover art. It evoked Paradise Kiss and the hand-drawn, grainy charm of 1990s anime, but I was disappointed. I should mention that the cover image shows Ririko holding what appears to be a staff or pool cue. I assumed this meant she'd hit someone with it, but she doesn't. Not even once. For that alone, I believe I am entitled to some form of recompense.

[postgamecontent]

'Night Slashers: Remake' Switch Review

However baffling it may sometimes be to process, just about every game you can name is someone's favorite. That's something I had to remind myself when trying to understand the very existence of Night Slashers: Remake. The original game is a passable arcade beat 'em up, a gory slice of DECOge that is a fun enough way to kill some time if it's all you have. It's fine, but not something I ever would have thought merited a full-on remake decades later. And yet, here we are. This must be a passion project, because I can't imagine anyone else wanting to put this much effort into Night Slashers. Well, let's see how this turned out.

So, the most obvious thing going on here is that the game has a completely new look. If I had to guess, the developers were inspired by the new style of Streets of Rage 4, because Night Slashers: Remake has a similarly cel-shaded 3D toon appearance. It doesn't look as good here, and I would go so far as to say that this game looks the way some feared Streets of Rage 4 was going to. Some of the models don't blend in with the 2D style properly, and most of them are so stiffly animated that it creates a weirdly inconsistent presentation. It feels really cheap at times, and it makes me wish I could switch back to the original graphics.

I'm also not sure this was the right choice for Night Slashers in particular. By tooning everything up, the gore and grit loses a lot of its power. And that's a bit of a problem, because that over-the-top WHOA gore was a big part of what Night Slashers had going for it. Mechanically, this is just about as standard of a brawler as you can find. Attack, jump, press both together for a special move that uses some of your health. As far as advanced moves go, you can dash, and you can charge up a more powerful attack. Guards are available, but only once your health is too low to do your super attack.

I'd have to go back to the original to check, but my gut feeling here is that the difficulty of the game has been significantly reduced in this Remake. Even at the highest difficulty level, the mob enemies can be ripped to shreds without much effort. You'll occasionally run into bigger fellows that can cause trouble, but they're not too hard to bounce around if you keep on top of them. The bosses are where most of the challenge lies, and even they only have a few patterns at most. The enemy AI just seems completely stupid at times, just standing around or walking in weird directions.

Really, Night Slashers was always a game best enjoyed with others, and it's the same case for the Remake. There's a fourth playable character (hopping over from another Data East game, Fighter's History) who is wholly new to the game, and she's a lot of fun to use. More importantly, she enables an all-new four-player mode. Regrettably, this is local multiplayer only. I guess I've been a bit spoiled by Streets of Rage 4 and Shredder's Revenge, but it's not easy for me to find enough people nearby to fill chairs to play Night Slashers in the current year. Perhaps it is easier for you, however.

While this isn't the fanciest of affairs, there are a few options here to play around with. You can toggle screen shake, character indicators, and bloom. There are some color palettes and filters to choose from. You can pick whether you want the new Remake soundtrack or the original tunes. There's a Music Room where you can listen to both soundtracks at your leisure, and a Custom Game mode where you can set various gameplay options to your liking. There are five different difficulty settings, and the game keeps track of your best scores and times on each.

Night Slashers: Remake is a decent but flawed remake of a game that could itself be described the same way. As beat 'em ups go, this version of the game is perhaps a little too mindless for its own good. I like the new character, the new soundtrack is nifty, and adding a four-player feature is a big boost. On the other hand, I don't know that the new look really fits Night Slashers and it's not pulled off very well at all. For whatever its shortcomings are, I think this is a very earnest effort at remaking a relatively lesser-known game. Maybe that's enough for some.

Score: 3/5

[gear-project]

My GG and Others' GG

I think a lot about the changes made to Strive and how it stacks up to older games leading up to the present.

For me, a large portion of what made GG appealing in the first place was the "freedom" to do what you wanted in the game.

Whether that was easy-make combos, offline game modes, Extra Menu Options, or even something like Isuka had where you could create your own custom colors or even a customized Robo-Ky to suit your play style.

I still think a lot about Strive's "true potential" is still dormant, but I still think it is too soon to come to conclusions about it as a game.

It took me over 10 years to truly appreciate a game like Accent Core... just like when you plant a tree, you don't expect it to be fully grown within a week or month.

My current concerns with Strive is the lack of single player options and the overall barebones feeling I get from the game, which is reminiscent of certain versions of Tekken and early builds of Street Fighter, which took a long time to become anything significant.

While many might be motivated to play their friends online, and that desire to "get stronger" might still be a major motivation... it was never a "core motivation" for myself.

I was never the kind of player to go to tournaments or compete in any large sense... so my emotional attachments to such game features is not as high as others might expect from someone who plays fighting games.

You could say that I treat fighting games like an RPG player or speedrunner would... I conquer them on my own terms and move on to the next challenge, though I still continue to "savor" the parts I find appealing.

Of course, this also influences my attachment to Guilty Gear as a story, though not as big an influence as you might expect.

Just like not everyone found GG2 Overture appealing, there are some aspects to GG's story that don't necessarily appeal to me (and that's quite the confession you're hearing out of me, by the way!)

Even if I say that though, it doesn't detract my motivations to keep true to fully understanding the game's story on the whole... in fact I'd definitely be the first to tell you the story is more important to me than the game itself would be.

Of course, some people might write that off as being insincere about learning how to play GG as a fighting game, but since I've been playing these games for many years, I don't think it's something you can easily pass judgement on without seeing how I play first hand.

I guess, from the broadest perspective I can give: learning the game is not as important as having fun with the game would be.

And I must confess that Strive feels "unripe" in that regard, so it feels very much like it's too soon for me to "dive in to the game" like I used to in past Guilty Gear titles.

The more advanced a game is, the more depth it has... the more work has to be invested in to the game to be "as good" as peoples' invested expectations place on the game.

So in that regard, much like most "modern" fighting games... it's expected that they would be "slow starters".

Still, based on everything I've seen and experienced in games like Soul Calibur 6, Melty Blood Type Lumina, Under Night In-Birth, Granblue Fantasy Versus, and even Dragonball FighterZ... all of "these games" have enough depth to them to still be appreciated by people who prefer to play offline until they can find the courage to play others online.

That of course includes games like Mortal Kombat 11, Injustice 2, and I'm sure there's other fighting games that have such features I haven't even listed.

It's my hope that Strive's developers start thinking more about Offline content more in the future... just giving players a broader sense of "there's more you can do in this game than just play people online and win or lose", and not limit this to Teams of 3, either!

[artificialqueens]

🏳️‍🌈 Carnival Games (Sashea) - Mock-Star 

pure fluff i wrote while i worked at an amusement park that's been rotting in my wips ever since, but i wanted to contribute to the pride challenge so here I am. Shea wins Sasha a giant plushie. that's it, that's the plot. 

Walking along the boardwalk, Sasha breathed in the sweet smell of cotton candy and stretched like a cat, enjoying the sun. Walking next to her, Shea was entranced as Sasha finished the last of her soda and clipped the reusable cup to the backpack that Shea was wearing. They had a brief "fight" over who was going to wear it, both of them insisting that they wore it before Sasha relented. 

"I need to go to the bathroom." Sasha sighed, laying eyes on the closest one to see that the line was out the door. 

"Do you wanna try and find a less crowded one?" Shea asked, knowing that Sasha would only make them stop if she really needed to go. 

"No, if we find another one, it's going to be just as crowded. Hopefully the line will move fast. Go ahead and walk around a little, I'll text you when I get out." Sasha said, kissing Shea on the cheek and power walked over to the bathroom line. 

Shea continued walking, although she didn't want to go too far. She turned a corner and discovered a small cluster of carnival games. Her eyes landed on a row of giant bear plushies that were the prizes for a ball toss game. They were definitely taller than her. She imagined Sasha trying and failing to pick one up, and she chuckled to herself. She decided right then she had to try and win one. The game was most likely rigged, and they definitely couldn't take it home if she did win, but she didn’t particularly care. She mentally gave herself 3 games to win and stepped up and paid for her first game.

It turns out, one game was all she needed, since she landed two balls in back to back. She cheered in surprise as the attendant rang a bell then asked what color she wanted, then dug a fresh one up from a back room. The bear was lighter than she expected, and she carried it over to a bench to wait for Sasha. Her text came after a few minutes, and Shea told her where she was. She could see her from about 60 feet away, the sun shining through her like the angel she was. She laid eyes on Shea when she was about 30 feet away, and Shea could see her surprise and subsequent eye roll as she approached. 

“Why?” she laughed, hugging Shea then hugging the bear 

“Because I wanted to see you smile” 

“You didn’t spend all of our cash, did you?” 

“No, no, no. Believe it or not, I won in one try.”

“What game did you play?”

“That one over there, the one where you toss the balls into a bin.”

"How on earth are we supposed to get this home? We flew here!" 

"Ship it." Shea said, barely holding back laughter. 

"That's going to be super expensive!"

"So?"

"So the price of the shipping is going to be like 10 times what it's worth! Darling, I am so grateful that you won this for me, so, so grateful. But we can't reasonably get this back home. How about we make a little kids day and then I'll let you win me a more reasonable sized toy." 

"You're hurting my feelings here Sasha!" Shea laughed. 

"I'm sorry love." Sasha cooed as she kissed Shea's cheek. "I do want a picture with it before we give it away though, it's almost as big as I am!"

"I know, that's why I played for it."

After 5 minutes of picture taking, the giant bear was handed off to a thrilled family of little girls and their parents, and Sasha led Shea to a game that would be easy to win, a guessing game where the worker had to guess a persons person's weight, age, or birth month, and after handing over 10 dollars and stepping on a giant scale, Shea won easily, and Sasha chose a husky dog plushie that was more manageable to carry, about the size of her torso as opposed to the size of her. Sasha leaned into Shea as they walked back to where they started, and Shea kissed the side of her head and then kissed the dogs head, already fondly remembering the day.

Pride Challenge Points: 199

[mycoolwritingcorner]

Ami The Pokémon Trainer

Written for Sailor Moon Platonic Week.

Day 1: Video Games.

----

“Good work today, Usagi.” Ami said, packing up her books after her one-on-one study session with Usagi, “Keep this up and you’ll pass your English test with flying colors.”

“Do you really mean it, Ami?” Usagi asked, with tears welling up in her eyes, to which Ami simply nodded in response, “Oh thank you thank you thank you!” Usagi said, wrapping her arms around Ami and pulling her into a hug, “Here, let me get your bag.”

With that, Usagi stood up and made her way to the other side of her bedroom where her blue-haired friend had set her bookbag. She picked up the bag and began to make her way back toward Ami, when she slipped on a loose piece of clothing which had been left out, “WHAA!” The blonde exclaimed as she slipped and fell onto the floor face-first, spilling the contents of the bag onto the floor.

“Usagi! Are you okay?” Ami asked as she rushed over to her friend to help her up.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” Usagi said, sitting up and rubbing her head, “Sorry for-” She began to say, before observing the objects which had fallen out of Ami’s bag. Most of them were fairly standard, a pencil case, some books, a few loose homework assignments, but there was one object that caught Usagi’s eye: A Game Boy with what appeared to be a copy of Pokémon Blue inserted into it.

“What? What are- AHH!” Ami cried, quickly refilling her bag with its spilled contents, “Uh… I can explain.” The bluenette said, sheepishly.

“You like Pokémon?” Usagi asked, surprised at this revelation.

“What?! I mean, I… I don’t…” Ami sputtered, before letting out a large sigh, “Yeah…”

“I thought you didn’t like video games because they were too easy for you?” Usagi questioned as she moved closer and settled down closer on the floor to Ami.

“Most of them are! But this one is different because it isn’t just simple pattern recognition! You have to formulate a strategy with your battles, match the different types accordingly, there’s a random element involved with things like critical hits and also… well…” Ami said, looking away embarrassed, “... the little creatures are just really cute.”

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME!?” Usagi exclaimed, grabbing Ami by the shoulders and shaking her, “We could’ve been playing together this whole time! I even have the Red version so we could’ve traded each other the exclusive Pokémon! I mean, Shingo has Blue, but he’s a jerk about it! I had to all but beg him to trade me a Vulpix!”

“Well… it’s because… I was embarrassed.” The blunette said, her cheeks tinted red.

“Huh? Why’s that?” Usagi asked, tilting her head in confusion.

“Because everyone sees me as the responsible one! Imagine what they would think if they found out I was indulging in something so childish. Oh, sorry, no offense.”

“None taken.” Usagi said, waving her hand nonchalantly, “But Ami, there’s nothing wrong with liking the things you like. No one’s gonna think you’re any less responsible just because you like a video game with cute little creatures. And if they do, I’ll punish them!” The blonde finished, doing a mock version of her famous pose.

Ami simply chuckled in response, “I guess you’re right.” She said, looking down at the floor.

“Good, now that that’s out of the way…” Usagi said before pulling her own Game Boy and link cable out of… somewhere, “I challenge you to a duel, Mizuno.”

Ami chuckled as she pulled her own Game Boy back out, “Alright, alright.”

“So, who’s your favorite Pokémon?” Usagi asked as they set up the duel, “Mine’s Eevee.”

“Oh, because of the different variety of evolutions it can undergo?”

“What? No, of course not! I would never evolve my Eevee! She’s perfect just the way she is!” Usagi exclaimed in a huff.

“I see…” Ami said, not wanting to tell her friend that that was a horrible strategy, “Mine’s Raichu.”

Usagi was somewhat surprised. She had assumed Ami’s favorite would be a water type, not an electric… type…

“Actually, yeah, that makes complete sense.” Usagi thought with a smirk, “Alright, let’s go! I’m gonna kick your butt!”

One Pokémon Battle Later…

“I can’t believe I didn’t beat a single one of your Pokémon!” Usagi cried.

“No offense Usagi, but your team wasn’t very well balanced. There were several redundancies. You know it’s probably not a good idea to have both a Ninetales and a Growlith, right? It makes your team doubly weak to water, rock, ground-”

“But they’re both so cute though! I mean, Ninetales was cuter as a Vulpix, but I love her just the same! I can’t abandon them!”

“Alright, alright, I understand.” Ami said with a smile, “Although, could you not tell the others about this? I know you said I shouldn’t be embarrassed, and you’re probably right, but-”

“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. Although, I do have one condition.” 

“Oh? What’s that?”

“I want a Sandshrew!”

----

I swear I didn’t make Ami’s favorite Pokémon Raichu just because they’re my favorite Pokémon. That’s definitely a coincidence. I swear.

Anyway, that’s day one! Come back for Day 2: Comfort. Really happy with the story I cooked up for that one.

But until then, please let me know what you thought! Comments, reblogs, likes, etc. are much appreciated!

And until next time, take care everyone!

[kariachi]

Okay, let’s do up some stuff for winter holiday stuff for various species, huh?

Erinaens

Their main class of winter holiday is already covered here- essentially a community swap-meet-turned-festival

There’s a variety of other regional festivities including common ones honoring necromancers, the dead, and some classes of spirit (always good to thank the fucker who’s making sure it only gets so cold, or that the seasons keep turning and you don’t get stuck in eternal winter (there are folktales about eternal winters)) but there are enough and varied enough that we can only go very general things

Namely there’s food, there’s generally gifts or offerings to the relevant individuals (so many necromancers make a chunk of their living off yearly ‘thank you for being here and doing your job’ gifts), there’s songs sometimes

Normally not decorations or anything, most of the time they’re not considered especially auspicious or celebratory

Lenopan

Cultures in areas that experience notable winters are comparatively slim among Lenopan, but the Winter Solstice, for a species that freezes easy, is a big-ass deal

You don’t leave the house- if you’ve got livestock that aren’t housed in an attached barn (the farther north settlements do that) then a chunk of you go and sleep with them, if there’s people in the children’s house guess what they are celebrating just them and the babies

I mean, we’ve already discussed that Lenopan try not to go out in winter (school’s~ out~ for~ winter~) but you seriously don’t go out on the solstice in any culture, they aren’t about that life

There’s three ‘most widely celebrated’ versions of the whole solstice deal

Version One- has sort’ve a Groundhog Day thing going on, homes have a small window in one of the major rooms that’s at the right position and angle to let in the noonday sun on the solstice. It’s kept closed up and covered the rest of the year, but on the Winter Solstice it gets opened up. Used to be that, like with most Lenopan windows, it was just open, but in nowadays it’s generally filled in with colored glass or plastic so now people can go hang out in the room on the day. If the noon sun shines through the window, then it’s said that spring will arrive early, but if it doesn’t then the winter will run long. If the sun is shining then people freaking gorge themselves and throw loud parties with singing and children bouncing off the walls, while if it isn’t then individuals fast for the next three days, ostensibly in mourning but probably at first was sort’ve a ‘save food for the long winter’ situation. Because it’s an either/or whether people are celebrating or mourning, there’s not really decorations, though there are traditional songs, including ones asking/begging/threatening the sun to show up and chase winter away. People also change their colors for the holiday- going to bright colors and bold patterns if the sun shines and pale, solid colors if it doesn’t

Version Two- also known as ‘honey why are the neighbors screaming?‘. Must make loud noises. Must decorate with scary things. Must sing songs of the death of winter at the top of your lungs. Entire point is to scare winter away. These lot don’t celebrate on the day of the Winter Solstice but the day after- the idea being that winter has been growing in power since the Summer Solstice (hence why nights have gotten longer and it’s gotten colder) and is at it’s peak on the solstice, hence the next day is when you start the assault to drive it back to wherever it goes when summer gets the upper hand. Imagine if people set off fireworks on Halloween to scare the bad spirits away, it’s a similar thing. You eat hearty foods and play games of physical fortitude and strategy. Challenge your cousins to Civ V and wrestle over who gets to be play as the Zulu. Really if they weren’t likely to get calls about disturbing the peace they’d fit right in with humans here.

Version Three- the only fuckers who used to go outside on the solstice. They used to combine the solstice with a garbage burn-off, when the weather started turning cold they would build covered stone structures to start throwing their trash in, and when the Solstice arrived they would send someone outside to light it all on fire. These were beacons, though beacons for what varies- some places it was to guide anyone who got lost in the long night home, or to attract luck or friendly spirits, or a scream into the darkness that they had not and would not fall. There would be cages arranged outside the structure and connected to openings in the bottom, they would be attached on the solstice and catch jevirir- a sort’ve salamandery centipedey psuedo-mammal that would take shelter from the cold in the trash pile. Their winter coloration, in the old days, was considered specifically an emblem and even emissary of winter and so they would be caught and drowned to make sure winter would eventually end. Of course this isn’t done anymore, they don’t even do the trash piles anymore. Instead now every fall families build temporary stone structures with colored glass and plastic roofs and stick spotlights inside them. The lights can be turned out from inside the house, so nobody has to go outside. As for the jevirir, nobody sacrifices them for the sake of spring anymore, at least not actual ones. They buy or make fake ones of clay, stone, reeds, wood, to sink in the water the day after the solstice. They make a whole event out of it, and one of the major holiday activities is hiding these fake critters around the house, after which the kids take the shapes of their natural predators and hunt them down, winning a holiday treat if they manage to find them all.

Osmosians

The Empire puts added emphasis on, again, the Winter Solstice, but for the most part all Osmosians celebrate it in one way or another

There’s some other winter holidays in Savar- mostly days celebrating specific deities, heroes, etc- but the solstice is the Big One

It’s the big winter deal for, again, pretty much all Ossys

In Savar there’s a lot of prayers and such for the Winter Solstice, it’s a whole thing, sacrifices made to deities, primarily to Shil, Lyis, Vernito, and whatever of the wind deities is in the top spot for the area

In every celebrating community there’s traditional songs and stories, as most holidays have, some of them even from back before The Hunting in some communities

There is so much food. So much. Savar doesn’t have many feasting holidays- Darum’s festival, Vernito’s, and the Winter Solstice really- plus citizens of the Empire feast to celebrate the anniversary of it’s formation, while non-citizens feast the day before to celebrate Ossys officially being classed as a sapient species with rights galaxy-wide

What people eat varies with where they are, who they are, etc, but within the Empire stuffed foods, preserved plantstuffs, and fresh meat and fish

The most common decorations are windchimes, windspinners, and bells. You also get strings of beads and baubles in various colors and made of various materials, plus some packs are able to put up fabric banners and ribbons (fancy, I know)

It’s very much a pack holiday, in fact if you see Ossys celebrating something that isn’t pack-wide or ‘the whole main body of the clan’-wide? It’s probably an event they borrowed from another species for one reason or another

Colors associated with the growing seasons are commonly used, though what those are varies widely depending on where fuckers are

Perison

There are so many different fuckers with so many different traditions on that planet, so instead we’re gonna focus on what Kwarrel grew up with because I’m as good as god here and also it’s been a long couple of days

The biggest of the winter holidays he grew up with was, essentially celebrating snow

Not technically but, it’s a whole thing

Basically, winter time means less sunlight, the Big Central Deity of the religion Kwarrel grew up with (it still needs a name) is quite literally The Sun, clearly she's not on top of her game in winter and you need to get her going again so it can stop being so damn cold and the crops’ll grow

The general idea is that once a year the Sun sorta gets seasonal depression and you need to make her happy so she can go back to making things warm and bright

So, how the ends up with snow

Snow is, sort’ve symbolic of the stars for these fuckers- the Sun’s daughters made the world and everything on it, the Sun and her Daughters make the stars, it sorta makes sense that these things that are never exactly the same are emblematic of the stars which similarly are homemade and therefor never exactly the same

So, how do you cheer up the Sun? You remind her of how much you appreciate her. You sacrifice food so she can share in the fruits that grow in her warmth. You sings songs for her, and perform grand, intricate dances. You praise her name and fill the world with light for her.

And you make it clear how much you appreciate her work

These fuckers make so many snow ornaments and decals and just, lots of snowflakes. Lots and lots of snowflakes. Because you can’t make stars, only the deities can make stars, it’d be insulting to make some shoddy representation of their work, so instead you make snowflakes. The delicate, intricate crafts bound to the world.

(Why yes, before you ask, this lot do represent the stars with snowflakes in art as well. Not the Sun herself, though. She mostly gets represented as the greatest, fattest woman within a great glow of light, when she isn’t represented as just that great glow of light. A few pieces have represented her as both man and woman at once, but that’s controversial as fuck and probably gonna lead to a major schism one of these days, just make a whole new offshoot religion.)

Snowflakes are made of just about anything. Fabric, paper, glass, wood, grass, crystal, seriously anything goes as long as it’s a snowflake. Used to be expected that you’d make your own, pass them down the family, and that they’d be white, very pale grey, or very pale blue, but nowadays you can find them for sale and in whatever colors you can imagine. As you’d suspect, there’s people up in arms about it.

Specific foods eaten vary from area to area, but delicate little pastries dusted in powdered sugar are a mainstay for obvious reasons. Also eggs are common, egg yolks specifically, though how they’re prepared again differs by region and sect and such. It’s important the yolks are unbroken though, you can’t eat broken yolks on that day.

Sacrifices to the Sun, meanwhile, are typically dried fruits and vegetables that are ripe in summer and specifically stored so they can be burned come winter. Official explanation is that the smoke carries the essence of the produce up to the Sun. Some households do it individually, some chunks of families do their sacrifice together, some whole herds. In regions where this is the dominant religion you may even get the better part of cities or towns getting together to make a vast pile and set it ablaze.

[sparingiscaring]

A Drink, Delivered

You find the note in your pocket as you sip on your drink, and though it is unsigned, you only have one guess as to who left it. The directions are easy to follow - slip away at the stroke of the hour, into the northernmost hall, and down to a pantry just wide enough to hold a furtive conversation. Minutes later, the door opens, and for a moment, you almost think the candle-carrying man to be a newly-Longshank’d Urchin. The Novel Detective places his candle atop a tin of surface-sent preserves, and settles back against the door, like a tightly-wound string. The youth in his voice is no surprise, though his blasé manner of speaking is. “Here’s the papers from the Lady’s office - I made the copies already and put them in place. She won’t notice a thing with her eyesight.” He hands you a small booklet, and with a flip through, you see small papers, some folded and some not, slipped between the pages of the tome. “Tuck that somewhere, and duck out the side door once my footsteps are gone.” The Novel Detective whispers, snatching up the candle. “I’ve got a job to quit - be seeing you around, I hope.”

Emery Hyde, The Novel Detective - A Summary

If there is a face everyone knows, that face is not Emery Hyde's. He's nothing on the greater London stage - a ‘author’ of a serialized story too self-important to be consumed by the general populace and too morbid to be of note by the upper crust, who still charters his boats to Polythreme for information, and with a temper and irritability to rival that of Mr Spices, should you speak ill of his supposed masterwork, but with little else to show for himself. There is nothing to probe, nothing to investigate, nothing to detect - just another Surface-born Londoner with a nothing past and a nothing future.

… but of course, isn’t that what a spy would want you to think? Dig deeper, ask the right questions, know the right signals, and there is far more to be found on this Emery Hyde. Eyes behind newspapers, whispered hints and secret passageways. What side of the Great Game does a man such as him play for? What color is on the chessboard? He almost seems in the outermost rings of the Game, a low-placed agent with no knowledge of the innermost workings, but that can’t be - there must be something more to him than just being a cog in the wheel of the Great Game, running pittance missions that could be done by anyone with a pulse. Something more. Why no one, even Mr. Hyde, seems to remember why he is really of note.

Irrigo is quite the handy forgetting agent, especially for a Midnighter. Especially for a Midnighter who wears Irrigo-laced goggles, though most tend to forget that detail pushed to the top of his head, or tucked away inside a pocket. Hard to know a man as anything other than a childish brat when all of his maturity is displayed when all are doused in Irrigo, is it not?

It's simply better for everyone to know Emery Hyde as he knows himself - a writer of terrible stories, with a snap to his words when he is challenged, and a fondness for his pet salt-weasel, and nothing more.

Of course, there’s always another layer. No matter how hard you push, there is no past to unearth - as if there never was any.

"P_ss off, would you?" The Novel Detective snarls like an animal as the question leaves your mouth, hands shoving themselves into his pockets. Evidently, he does not appreciate questions about his childhood. "That's not your concern. Now do us both a favor, and get out of my sight!"

But perhaps that is for another set of eyes - you wouldn’t want to know the details of a man’s creation unless it was of some great curiosity to you, right?

Hearts Desire, Unfinished (though he dreams of Adoration)

Midnighter, Unspecialized

Closest to: The Great Game

Canon ES: A Trade in Souls (Spirifer)

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