#lessee what else

[cerusee]

Are there any trigger warnings for goodbye my princess?

Boatloads, probably! But for this kind of thing? It might be easier to ask about any specific dealbreakers you have yourself, than for me to try think what someone else might have a hard time watching and want to avoid. (I’ll try to list anything I can think of in the tags, though! If there’s anything not listed you wanna know about, send me another ask.)

[actoflesbiabism]

what if we just start community labeling everything mature so staff has to actually fix their shit for once

[cacaitos]

now i remember why i didnt wanna sit to write the rambles

[yuurei20]

Jade and Floyd Info Compilation part 36: Halloween and more

Jade has a large role in Halloween as a member of the Halloween management committee and treasurer.

Crowley insists that all dorms were given the same budget for costumes and sets, with Jade keeping an eye out for transgressions.

Kalim seems curious about Octavinelle’s ability to stay within their budget (Jade: “Are you suggesting that I helped them circumvent the rules?”) as he is unhappy about being told he couldn’t spend his own money on Scarabia (by Jade himeslf).

It is Jade who makes the connection that the school’s problem isn’t Magicam or the ghosts but the Magicam Monsters, and that they can save the Halloween party that Crowley is threatening to cancel if they handle the issue of safety.

While the others try to deduce a way to eject the Magicam Monsters without attacking them both twins start to laugh, arriving at a solution (along with Azul) before anyone else.

Jade gives the example of a rental property: “Most lease contracts do not allow a lessor to force a lessee out without a proper reason.""In which case, you have to get them to leave voluntarily…Fear. Danger. Displeasure. Revulsion.”

The students all agree to follow Jade’s idea.

(Jade seems comfortable discussing rental agreements, offering reservations for guest rooms in Octavinelle to the prefect and Grim and encouraging them to rent out Ramshackle’s empty rooms to other students.)

Octavinelle chases Magicam Monsters away through a complex scenario that involves Floyd in his eel form switching places with Jade, Jade pretending to mind-control Azul (forcing him to dance), describing his own death and wrapping visitors in bandages.

Jade goes to a lot of work to fulfill all visitor requests during the Halloween party, impressing both Silver and Riddle, despite how Floyd encourages him to let other people fill in so that he has time to eat.

Jade has a line about being too embarrassed to open his mouth wide while others are watching.

According to several articles on the subject, moray eels opening their mouths wide has been documented as a part of courtship displays.

Both twins seem partial to pranks.

Floyd says that if he were to choose a dorm besides Octavinelle it would be Savanaclaw, for its simple rules of whoever is strongest is at the top, but at the end of the day he prefers Octavinelle.

Jade says he has an inquiring mind: “Whenever I’m curious about something I feel compelled to study it thoroughly.”

He also says that he gets the urge to talk to people if he sees that they are in the middle of a laborious job. “Is that wrong of me?”

Jade says he pays little mind to what other people think of him.

[rensphilia]

TW: sadness. Post-MC death.

Rain drips down Mammon's face as he looks up at the cloudy sky. It's cold, but it helps wash away some of the tears streaking his cheeks. ".....me an' you, we had a good run, didn't we, Treasure?" His voice is soft, still full of love even after all this time. Your grave is faded, the letters of your name worn away with time and exposure to the elements. Still, Mammon rests his hand on top of the stone, and that same smile crosses his lips. The one that changed, when you passed.... no longer carefree, his smile is bittersweet, but still so full of love. "Ya wouldn't believe what Asmo got into today. He brought home this scarf thing, said is was th' latest an' greatest.... only the thing started wrappin' around everyone who came close. Pulled almost all of us in ta this big tight cocoon kinda thing.... Lucifer about had a stroke." A soft chuckle, then a sigh. "You woulda laughed.... I miss yer laugh." He sighs and sits next to the cold stone, resting his head against it as though he was leaning on your shoulder. "....ah, ya don't wanna hear me be sad.... ya never did like ta see me cry. Ah, lessee, what else happened since last I was here...? Oh, I got that gig I told ya about... got some good cash from it, went up on a spendin' spree. I... got ya some stuff. It's in yer room, like all the rest...." His voice trembles. ".....sorry. I just miss ya, Treasure..... I hope ya come back, someday..... I hope ya ended up in the Celestial Realm. I hope ya happy.... but ya know me. I'm greedy..... I want ya here. With me, where ya belong...." His voice breaks, soft sobs shaking his shoulders as he hugs the cold stone that's nothing like your warmth. "Come back ta me, Treasure..... please?"

[quartzhearted]

🍪 but without the kissing part

(“Do you think there is a flavor I would like?” Alcryst asks. “I prefer the savory versions without the chocolate, but I should probably stick with something sweet if I want to play.”

He frowns at the colorful array of boxes. There’s so many choices, it’s honestly kind of overwhelming. “I only need one box, so buying a bunch would be a waste too…”)

nobody's really a sweets fan in the family. totally fair. morion himself isn't a huge fan of chocolate either---he's just become so addicted to these weird games that he's associated them with friendly fighting instead of actual snacks. they're not even that terrible. not something he'd seek out often, but still.

now he's standing with alcryst, trying to figure out which of the many flavors will be the best choice ( while morion himself keeps the crowd at bay with his wallish form ). he likes to think he can help make a tough decision every once in a while! choice paralysis is real---his boys need to focus their energy on important decisions and not what flavor of cookie to buy.

" hmm... yeah, i think everyone's expectin' sweets this time around, " morion muses, rubbing his beard thoughtfully. " the chocolate's not that bad, but lessee here... "

he grabs two boxes---one green and one brown. " one of these is green tea, " he hums, " an' the other one's just chocolate biscuit---no coating. these shouldn't be too offensive. try these, and any you don't eat, just give 'em to your old man. i'll figure out somethin' to do with 'em.

" and hey! maybe people will think it's fun to do the savory kind. get a box for yourself n' see if anyone else is a fan! "

[thewebcomicsreview]

Disregard this message if you don’t do this sort of thing, but i was wondering if there would be any feedback i could get in regards to my comic? I am almost finished drawing the entire backlogue, so if feedback is received it will probably be applied towards the sequel. Feedback or not, I love your page very much, it’s introduced me to saffron and sage(of which i am very fond of the character designs and humour) and out of placers(weird creatures my beloved!)

Thank you for your work!

https://m.webtoons.com/en/canvas/piebald-dove-plea/list?title_no=621921

Hey, thanks!

So, lessee. Your comic is called "Piebald Dove Plea". Bit of a weird name, for a bit of a weird comic. It's dreamlike, and to be honest I'm having a lot of trouble following it.

Some of that is that it's literally difficult to read. None of the dialogue is appropriately sized for the word balloon it's in here, and panel three has some (black) text escape the balloon into the (dark) background, so I literally can not tell what this dude is saying.

And I can see that this is something you're working on, there's a notable improvement between pages ten and page fifty-one (I like the "feathery" word balloon in the fourth panel here!), but even on the later pages there's a lot of issues and even some words escaping the balloons again. And it's pretty clear why this is happening: These word balloons don't fit the shape of the dialogue well at all. I spent some time trying to fix them, and while I'm not a letterer and I'm sure someone else could've done better, it was rough trying to get that text to fit nicely.

I think this does look a bit better, but that's mostly just because I'm using a better comics font (Anime Ace 2.0 BB from Blambot. It's free!), and maybe that I split "to sink them into cockerels" a bit from the rest of the monologue to make it hit a bit different, but I'm fighting to squeeze the square text into the round balloon. I cropped out Panel 4 because I was too scared to even try.

My own lettering is actually pretty trash, to be honest, and I'm sure all the real artists in the audience are tittering to themselves at those fucked balloons, but I think this is still enough to illustrate my point. I typed the words, then I drew the bubbles, then I drew the little rabbit doodle, and everything fits so much nicer and I can properly draw the rabbit there because I know where it fits. It's way easier because you'll see balloon/dialogue issues when it's easy to fix and not when the whole goddamn page is done being drawn and you can't change it. For the first panel in the example, simply moving Dorcas a bit to the left would've made it way easier for you to fit the dialogue in, but it's a huge pain to do that now.

For newer artists, it's usually best to focus on fixing on thing at a time, and fixing up that lettering is the think you should focus your energy into before moving on to other things. It's a small thing that's relatively easy to learn and makes such a difference.

[redemptioninchaos]

Oh they are so not paying me enough for this shit and one day, very soon, I'll have had enough of that. That thought came as a cherry on top of the cake of bullshit Larisa had been served that day, and she couldn't hold herself back. She massaged her temples, then pulled out a cigarette and lit it. Someday she'd stop smoking for good. But not today. Not today when she was this stressed out.

She blew the smoke away from the stranger's face, ignoring the several quiet pings that came from her pocket. No, she could always look at job ads later. If it was even worth trying to find a new one at all. It was. It had to be. "Look... I'm just trying to do my job. Get paid and survive in the big city. Isn't that what everyone's doing here?"

She could look murderous when she was angry - but in that moment, the detective just looked exhausted. Her voice dropped almost to a whisper. "I'm going to quit this soon. I'm just as sick of cops as you are," here, she threw a brief glance at her uniform. "It was a desperate measure. Things have changed. But not me trying to help. That was why I took up a job like this in the first place. I wanted to help."

Rashan was a lot of things. Loud, obnoxious, dumb as hell. He was everything a hood rat was expected to be. And yet, Sergio somehow trusted him more than anyone else in New York.

The two had met working for Olin's Repossession, a shady third party repo shop specializing in procuring rent-to-own items from lessees who were late on their payments. Such a job could have been dangerous when approaching the wrong lessee; they may not have been able to afford monthly payments, but they had just enough money to buy a gun and ammunition to use against two regular guys in polo shirts.

Somehow, neither Sergio nor Rashan had taken a bullet during their time working with the company. Their time working for Olin's Repossession was short; Olin suddenly fell on hard times and had to close up shop, and the cop in front of him now was responsible.

Despite this, Sergio and Rashan kept in contact. Rashan helped Sergio get out of his shell a bit more and had introduced him to lots of people who, surprisingly enough, weren't gangsters or hoodlums, just party animals. Likewise, Sergio was able to keep Rashan from getting himself hurt when his antics reached a fever pitch.

Days turned to weeks, months into years. Sergio rose within the ranks of his criminal syndicate, right under the cop's nose. She surely had to know that something was up with him with how he became privy to such crucial information that led to the arrests of several rivals of the Laborers. Up until that point, there was no reason for her to ask too many questions.

The sound of a heart rate monitor played in his mind, Rashan's bloodied face burned in his vision.

"You tellin' me this ta get me ta spill, or you jest tellin' ya self that?" he grumbled, balling up his fists. The way he looked at her, she could tell that he wasn't truly angry at her, but at...something else. Something terrible had happened recently, Sergio feeling spurned by circumstance.

[mamawasatesttube]

if someone was to write something about kon using one of your favorite headcanons... what would be in the top 3 things youd want to see someone else write?

OKAY lessee. first off here is my general manifesto on how to write kon ldkfjdlk which is mostly based on canon, not getting into headcanons, but includes just... a lot of stuff people writing fics with him in tend to get wrong imo (making him stupid, bungling his relationship with clark for drama, etc).

i'm really REALLY picky about kon fics. if they add in contrived ooc "kon has beef with clark" angst i'm gone. if they spell his name "connor" i'm gone. if they refer to him as a "clex baby" or lean into geoff's "lex luthor calls kon his son" thing, or any of the stupid "some genes are evil" shit, i'm gone. if they make up blatantly false assumptions about his history without fact-checking any of it (like, assuming he's never gotten sick, or that he's a playboy who loves to sleep around, etc), i'm gone. there is a reason i asked people not to send me fic recs unless we're friends and they know what i like, and it's that i basically don't want to read it unless the author actually has an idea of what they're talking about. which i know might sound harsh but like,,, oh well. if it sounds harsh it sounds harsh.

BUT all that being said!!! as for my favorite headcanons, what i'd wanna see shine really depends on the context i think but i can list a few fav hcs in general?? (<- massively overthinks this kind of thing. sorry. can't help it)

genderqueer gay man kon who struggles for a HOT minute with the idea of fabricated attraction and comp het being behind his early relationships.

guy who loves fibercrafts thanks to ma :) she introduced him to the idea of crocheting and later knitting as ttk practice, and then he got into sewing, lacemaking, etc. he can control a lot of moving parts and it's very cool to watch!!

krypto is his emotional support superdog. (this one is basically canon but still. its important to me.)

ma kent taught him to cook!

this is also canon but it's important to me and i must highlight it: he loves scifi. this is important. especially stories about bodily autonomy and "artificially-made" people. like clones and robots.

he gets migraines from overusing his ttk. of course, what counts as "overuse" gets to wilder and wilder points as he grows and his control and range increase.

he's very particular about his hair routine.

acts of service is one of his biggest love languages.

this is so many more than three already. i am so sorry. i will stop now but omg... man did you know. i like kon :) ty for the question it made me think for a bit!!

[druidx]

I also managed to hold myself to doing the 3rd of the writing exercises from this post.

Tagging op of that post @davycoquette as requested :) & @aquadestinyswriting as per

Describe a character by turning out their pockets.

The goon patted her down. "Let's see what we've got here then, eh?" he said, smirking at how O'Toreguarde struggled against the two beefcakes holding her still. He drew her 8-shooter from the concealed holster, tossing it into the tray behind him. "Don't think you'll be needing this then. What else we got…" Feeling around her belt, he plucked off her badge and handcuffs. "Oh, these'll be handy. Just gotta make sure you don't have the key still on you, eh?" Reaching into her left trouser pocket, he pulled out a bundle of keys, a pocket knife, and a few hard candies. Popping one in his mouth, he grinned with crooked teeth. "Mint humbugs. My fave. Now, lessee here." From her right trouser pocket, he pulled a chapstick, a handful of rounds for the gun and a notebook. "No pen? Whaddyado, write with the chapstick?" The beefcakes behind her chuckled. Elo huffed. "Pencil's in the inside jacket pocket." "Along with your moolah, I see," The goon pulled out her horseshoe coin purse, followed by her warrant card. He flicked it open. "God! Were you sick that day or summit?" "Everyone looks shit in those pictures. It's the light," Elo shot back. "Yeah, sure," the goon said, pocketing the slim black wallet. "Hey!" Elo struggled forward again, only to be shoved back as the goon went digging back in her jacket. "And that is private," she added as he pulled out her date book. "All the more reason for me to hold onto it then," he said, shoving it into his back pocket. Elo growled in response. "What about in here? Just a hankie?" The goon plucked the pocket square from her breast pocket, running his finger along the lower edge. "If you're looking for the key to the cuffs, let me save you some time. I lost the bloody thing." "Somehow I doubt you've misplaced anything in your whole life. Like these liddle trinkets here." The goon thumbed the two chains around her neck, lifting the Dalliance signet ring and Thor's hammer from under her shirt. "Neither of those are the key," Elo told him coldly. The goon cocked an eyebrow. "Can't be too careful, eh?" he said, and yanked, snapping the chains. Elo growled again, as the jewellery also ended up in the tray. "You wanna save me time, eh, liddle girl? Where's the cuff key?" "I told you: I lost it." "And I told you," he breathed minty breath in her face, "I don't believe that for one stinkin' minute. Now, as I see it, you got a choice to make. Either you tell me where it is, or I have my boys strip you naked and we go through every inch of your clothes. What'll it be, little girl?" Elo pursed her lips and swallowed. "It's in the left back pocket. My left, not yours." "There, now. Wasn't so hard, was it?" the goon said, reaching around to fish it from her pocket. Elo glowered, thinking: at least he never checked for her backup knife. Or asked about the second key, hidden in the hem of her trousers…

[youngpettyqueen]

2 garashir 👀

lessee 2 is... sick! YES. GARASHIR SICK FIC BE UPON YE I looooooove a good sickfic tysmmmmmmmm

please enjoy alien flower shenanigans, Julian being a big baby, and Garak dealing with the mortifying ordeal of loving somebody and wanting to be soft for them

"Doctor," Garak says, lovingly, patiently, with a smile, "You need. To eat."

Julian, lying amidst the tangle he's made of his sheets, pouts at him like a disobedient child and says, "Don't wanna."

Garak counts to 3 and reminds himself that he loves this man very much. "Julian," He tries, sweet as honey, "You haven't eaten a thing all day, and it's dinnertime. You need to eat to build up your strength, or else you're going to end up in the infirmary on a nutrient solution," He reminds him, "What would you rather have, a nutrient solution, or this delicious soup I replicated just for you?" He holds the bowl up invitingly.

Julian scowls at him, the way he always does when he knows that he's right. The sight is usually amusing, but right now, with Julian's face flushed red as Earth tomatoes with fever and every part of him soaked with sweat, it just looks... well. Pathetic.

"...Soup." Julian mumbles petulantly.

Garak's smile widens. "There's a good boy," He says, which only makes Julian's scowl deepens. He shifts how he's sitting, moving closer to Julian so that he can get a spoonful of soup and hold it out to him, "What is it Mrs. O'Brien says to the little one? Here comes the airplane?" He hums.

Julian looks at him like he wants him dead. Even so, he blows on the spoonful of soup, then lets Garak feed it to him. His scowl softens, as Garak knew it would- it's a curry soup, one of his favourites- but he does make an uncomfortable face to indicate that the nausea hasn't fully passed.

Garak tries not to let his concern show as he feeds his doctor another spoonful. Julian came back from his latest away mission sick, after inadvertently triggering the defense mechanism of some sort of flower, which had stuck his hand full of thorns. Jabara told him the thorns were coated in some sort of toxin, which had infected Julian and left him delirious with fever and stuck at a dangerously high temperature. The antidote, synthesized from the toxin itself, has brought his temperature down enough that his brain won't boil, but the fever still stubbornly refuses to break, and Julian is still uncomfortably overheated nearly constantly. The toxin has been potent enough that Julian is still sick two days later, but he's slowly getting better with regular injections of the medication.

Even seeing Julian get better before his eyes, Garak still can't help but worry. Humans are so very prone to toxins, especially those of the fatal varieties, and Julian's augmented immune system can make things... unpredictable. Sometimes something will barely faze him, and other times it will hit him even harder than it would another Human.

"'S hot." Julian mumbles after another spoonful. There's a sheen across his forehead again.

Garak grabs for the cloth he's taken to keeping handy and gently wipes at his face. Julian's hair curls and sticks to his forehead, and he takes a moment to brush it away before it dries. "I know, dear," He says sympathetically, "But you won't eat the gelatin because it, quote, feels bad, and anything else turns your stomach. Soup is the only thing you've been able to keep down," He glances at the bowl, which isn't steaming, but he knows it's warm because he can feel the heat through the bowl, "I could always ask the replicator to make this cold if-" Julian makes a face, and he sighs, "Never mind, then."

Julian winces, looking very much like a little animal that's been kicked out into the rain. "Sorry..." He offers miserably.

Garak sighs quietly. He can't be annoyed with Julian when he's this pathetic. "You've nothing to apologize for," He tells him softly, "It isn't your fault you aren't well. Just a bit more, that's all I ask." He holds out another spoonful.

Julian hesitates, and Garak braces himself for an argument. But, then, Julian puts on his best brave face and eats. Garak balances the bowl on his lap so that he can dab at the doctor's forehead again as he feeds him a few more spoonfuls, getting about halfway through the bowl before Julian finally shakes his head and refuses another bite.

"I can't," He says, "'M sorry, I can't..."

"That's alright," Garak soothes, with a tenderness that would've turned his stomach a year ago. He's never been the softest of people, but this situation requires a certain gentleness. He's found, in the months since their relationship became official, that being gentle is easier when one is hopelessly and dangerously in love, "You did well. I know it wasn't easy." He sets the bowl aside on the bedside table, to be taken away and recycled later.

He turns back to Julian. "How's the temperature?" He asks.

"Hot," Julian groans, "God, it's so hot... are you sure it can't... it can't go lower?" He asks.

Garak can only nod. "I'm sure," He replies. The temperature in here is as low as it can possibly go. He's been freezing his tail off, even bundled in a plush jumper that Julian had gifted him, but he'll gladly suffer the cold if it means his partner might get some relief, "I could get another cold compress, if you like." He offers. He's been running so hot they only stay cold for a short period, but it's better than nothing.

Julian shakes his head. "No," He mumbles, "No, don't... don't want you to go." He reaches out blearily, fumbling through the tangle that is his sheets before he finds Garak's hand, which he weakly grabs hold of.

Garak can't help but chuckle softly. "Really, my dear, I'll only be gone for a moment," He gently frees his hand, and Julian whines softly and tries to take it back, to no avail, "I'm sure you can spare me for just a brief moment, if it means you'll be able to cool down a bit." He suggests.

Julian rolls over towards him, and Garak is hit with the full force of what he's come to know as the puppy dog eyes. An expression so named for how it resembles an Earth puppy, and for how completely disarming it is to anybody who looks upon it. Julian is very good at this expression, especially when he's feeling poorly.

"I don't want to be alone." He tells him, and his voice is so sincerely miserable that Garak can't even be annoyed at how ridiculous the sentiment is, because Julian would literally be alone for less than a minute.

"Alright," Garak concedes in a sigh, if only because he thinks Julian might actually try to get up and come with him if he insisted on going, which would only end in disaster seeing as how he's had to practically carry him to use the fresher, "Alright, I'll stay. But," He reaches over, rests his hand on Julian's cheek in a gesture of sickeningly sweet care, "If it becomes unbearable, I expect you to-"

Garak's hand makes contact and Julian shivers in response. He starts to pull away, alarmed, but Julian moves the fastest he's moved these few days to grab hold of his wrist and plant his hand right back against his face.

"Julian?" He prompts, way more concerned than he should be.

Julian sighs contentedly, rubbing his cheek against Garak's palm. "Cold." He says simply.

Ah. That would... that would make sense. The room is cold, and despite the jumper, Garak still feels as cold as ice. Were he on Cardassia he would be able to retain heat from the sun, but here on this station, getting warm is a hero's journey in and of itself, and it's nearly impossible to stay warm. Add in a room that is, to him, freezing cold, and he imagines he must feel like one great big ice pack.

He brings his other hand up and, hesitating only momentarily, he places it on Julian's other cheek. Julian murmurs happily, also grabbing hold of that hand and holding it in place. Garak can feel the fever heat radiating off of Julian's skin, and it feels... nice. Alarming, to feel that he's still so warm, but Garak is a simple Cardassian and he can't deny that the heat is pleasant to his frigid hands.

How hadn't he thought to do this earlier? He can forgive himself for the couple days prior- Julian's skin had been hypersensitive and anything rougher than his blanket had him gasping in pain, so Garak had scarcely touched him- but since yesterday that particular symptom had dissipated. He could've been doing this all day. It probably would've worked better than the multiple cold compresses that have hardly touched the burning fever that rages through his doctor's system.

"Better?" Garak asks, unable to help a smile. Annoyed as he is with himself, he's far more pleased to see Julian content and happy in his hands, a silly smile on his face as he squishes Garak's hands against his cheeks. He looks rather like a Cardassian who's found a nice patch of sunlight to bask in.

Julian nods. "Much," He hums, very nearly purring like a cat might, "Can you do this... forever?" He requests.

"You have an hour until I need to get your next dose." Garak replies.

"Aw," Julian whines. Garak just raises a brow ridge at him, and he relents, "Alright, alright," He sighs. Still holding Garak's hands against his face, he smiles again, and adds, "Sorry for being... such a handful."

Garak softens entirely, melting like he's been left out in the sun too long. "My dear doctor," He murmurs, his thumbs brushing over Julian's lovely cheekbones, "If I may borrow one of your sayings... you may be a handful, but you're my handful," He leans in, and presses a sweet kiss to Julian's forehead, "And I wouldn't have you any other way."

It's not particularly pleasant, kissing Julian like this. He's sweaty, and sticky, and the smell of infection hangs around him like a sickly sweet perfume. But it makes him smile, draws a raspy little chuckle out of him, so Garak finds he can stomach the unpleasantness. In fact, he finds he can stomach it enough to give Julian a kiss on the nose, just so he can hear that huffy little laugh again.

How hopelessly soft he's become. Not for the first time, he thinks it wonderful that the thought no longer makes him want to retch.

[cainluvr69]

Let Me Tell You The Story Of A Rainbow - Chapter 7

Previous Chapter

Figaro: Sure, why not. I don't dislike how stubborn the two of you can be about this kind of thing.

Snow: Then we shall have you accompany us, Figaro dear.

White: Put that good nature up where everyone can see it!

Snow & White: Yaaaay!

Figaro: Alright. We're good and virtuous wizards, after all.

The twins cackled gleefully and disappeared into the depths of the exhibit hall with Figaro, and Murr and Shylock followed after them.

Murr: Hey, wouldn't it be easier for us to curry favor with the masses if some sort of crazy incident happened?

Shylock: Certainly, if the opportunity arises. But to desire such an opportunity before it arises…

Murr: Is that bad?

Shylock: No. You may desire whatever it is you wish. One never truly wants something bad to happen, but the seductive song of "What if?" is still irresistible.

Murr: What a good attitude! Let's imagine all the exciting possibilities together!

Shylock: Fufu. Unfortunately, that's not our role to play this time. It's far too easy to let any expectations slip our minds as we get enraptured by the extraordinary exhibits on display.

Murr: True enough! It'd be a tragedy if I didn't enjoy the fun stuff right in front of me and miss the chance to enjoy them forever!

Shylock: Of course. Now, shall we be off? Let us enjoy what we've been invited to enjoy to our hearts' content.

Faust was the next one to step forward, and a step behind was Lennox's large shadow across the floorboards.

Faust: I'm not exactly interested in doing this, but…if we're on official business, then that's that. I don't want to deal with the aftermath if something happens and they blame us for not dealing with it.

Lennox: It would just invite even more misunderstandings. You don't want the younger wizards getting yelled at during an emergency, right?

Faust: That's not why I'm doing this.

Lennox: The security arrangements are fairly rough. Shall we see if there's anywhere that needs an extra hand or two?

Faust: Yeah… This is a pretty big place, and it doesn't sound like all of the magic items on display are clustered together. Let's start from the top floor and work our way down.

Lennox: Alright. I'll stay with you.

Faust: Thanks. If you see anything weird, let me know so I can check it out. While I'm doing that, you can keep other visitors away from the exhibit in question while making sure they don't panic for no reason, and guide them out in case anything bad happens… Or…wait. Why are you going with me? Go somewhere else.

Lennox: But if I'm going to do anything, I think it'd be best for me to do what you just said.

Faust: …

Lennox: Should I not?

Faust: …Whatever. Do what you want.

Lennox: Yes, I most certainly will.

Nero: Hey, Riquet, I heard there's gonna be a buffet at the party on the last day.

Riquet: A…"buffet"…?

Nero held up a pamphlet to try and show Riquet what he was talking about, but Bradley snatched it out of his hands. He scanned it and whistled.

Bradley: Means y'get to pile yer plate with nothin' but stuff you like. You can take whatever you want and eat whatever you want. Lessee… Damn, they're gonna be serving a whole lot. I don't mind attendin' parties if it means I can eat my fill of good grub.

Riquet: Only eating the things you want to… Would one not fall into depravity?

Bradley: Hey, what's wrong with a little depravity here and there? You should do whatever you want and only what you want. You've never had the chance to eat in a place like this before, yeah?

Riquet: That's simply not right. Besides, with so many options, I'm not sure I'd know what to pick…

Nero: It's fine t' not know what you want. There's so many fancy n' interestin' things to pick from, after all. The time you spend decidin' what you want is another part of your dinin' experience.

Riquet: …Really?

Nero: They'll have your favorite bread pudding too, I bet.

Riquet: Will you be the one making it?

Nero: Nah, not me.

Riquet: …Oh, I see.

Nero: They've got chefs way better at what they do than me here, y'know.

Riquet: But I like your cooking.

Nero: Haha, I'm honored. If you see anythin' you like at the party, lemme know. I can make it for you back at the manor, too.

Bradley: Hell yeah. The more the Central tiny asks you to make, the more we've got on the menu.

Riquet: Yes!

Mithra: I know what a buffet is. It's that thing where if you don't eat every single dish in front of you, you'll be killed…

Mitile: They do not kill you at a buffet! It's perfectly fine to only serve yourself what you want.

Mithra: How much of what I want? Is it fine if I eat everything all on my own?

Mitile: I don't…think that's against the rules, but still, it's not polite to keep it all to yourself. You're supposed to share it with everyone.

Mithra: Well, we'll see how I feel about it. Where's this "buffet" being displayed?

Mitile: The buffet isn't one of the exhibits…

Owen: Literally whatever. I have exactly zero interest in that pathetic of a reward. Can I leave now?

Rustica: Why not wait to decide if you have no interest in it after you look around a bit first? A reward that pleases you more than a party or a lavish feast might just fall into your hands.

Chloe: Right, right! It'd be a waste if you let something like that just get away from you.

Owen: There's no way there's going to be anything I like in a place like this.

Chloe: Then where would it be?

Owen: …Somewhere?

Rustica: If it exists somewhere in the world, then it's entirely possible that this is that "somewhere". You might find it today, or perhaps tomorrow. Or in a hundred years or so.

Owen: That sounds awful. Can I sew that noisy mouth of yours closed?

Rustica: I think I'd rather have my ears sewn shut, actually. Having my ears blocked off means I'd be able to hear the sounds that come from within me, yes? I'd be very excited to hear what my heart has to say to me. So please, feel free. Sew me up.

Owen: …You're really incomprehensible.

Chloe: Hey, it looks like everyone else already left! Look, Cain is waving at us.

Cain: Heeeey! Don't get lost in the displays!

Owen: Excuse me? I'm not lost.

Rustica: But would you like to be?

Owen: You can't get lost on purpose.

Chloe: Rustica's great at getting lost.

Rustica: Fufu. I sure am. But perhaps… It's because I want to be lost. Thank you so much, Chloe.

Chloe: Huh, did I do something for you?

Rustica: But of course… It's because I have someone who will look for me that I can become lost in the first place.

✦✧☾✧✦

Arthur: This statue…

Cain: Oh, Arthur. Something up?

Arthur: Look at this.

Cain: This statue's pretty freaky. It's got so many tails coming out of it. What's this thing's name… "Oz"?

Oz: …Is something wrong, you two?

Arthur: Lord Oz! N-no, it's nothing…

Oz: Did you see this sculpture?

Arthur: Ack!

Cain: I thought it was a sculpture of some sort of wicked beast, but apparently it's a representation of the "historical" Oz. They'll say basically anything about you, huh?

Oz: I have no interest in the form others claim I have. Let them create whatever they wish.

Arthur: Still… It's downright unacceptable that your name is so closely associated with monsters that are barely even human, and that exhibitions of such creatures continue to be put on display. I will speak with the host and have him do away with this statue in the name of truth…

Cain: Hmm? Hey, this statue's title has a number next to it. This is Oz number 9.

Arthur: What?

Cain: Let's see, this one's #1… 2… 3… Looks like this whole section is nothing but sculptures of Oz.

Oz: All of them, you say… There are roughly twenty of them in total.

Arthur: These must have been created after truly extensive research into the legends surrounding you, Lord Oz. Such hard work and skill should be celebrated, I agree, but…

Oz: The tail and shape of the skull on this one are reminiscent of the Leviathan.

Cain: No matter what each one looks like, they all have a sense of dignity and majesty to them. Seeing this many Ozes lined up is still a pretty impressive thing to witness. Hey, Oz. Can you stand over there for a sec?

Oz: …Like this?

Cain: Yeah, that's perfect. At the center of this forest of facsimiles of the one and only Lord Oz stands the real deal… It's like you've become part of the artistry on display here.

Arthur: … Even so. These grotesqueries don't resemble Lord Oz in the slightest. The real one is the coolest by far.

Cain: Haha, you got that right. The best one is best for a reason!

Oz: …

Arthur: I know… Lord Oz, could you stand over here next?

Oz: Alright.

Arthur: What do you think, Cain? Now it looks like Lord Oz has vanquished a terrible beast…

Cain: Hey, you're right. There's a real air of power now! Like he's the absolute pinnacle of Ozes.

Arthur: The other ones aren't Lord Oz.

Cain: No, see, I mean the vibes we've got going on here. Hm… I don't want to abandon this other position, though. Hey Oz, this time can you go over there?

Oz: …

✦✧☾✧✦

Faust: This is an impressive collection of rare gems from all five countries… It's not like I'm a geology expert, but this is still a sight worth seeing. They're all high-quality stones, too. I think they said the host is an art dealer? He's got quite the eye.

Lennox: The security is very thorough as well. As Lords Snow and White said, our host must be quite powerful on the political stage.

Nero: Yeah, these rocks are all on a completely different level from the ones y'might see in a town marketplace or in stands on the street. They're all valuable enough to deserve bein' on display in an event like this.

Faust: Leno, look at this. It says this ore was mined in Southern Country. It's beautiful.

Lennox: Most of the South is still unexplored. There's a lot of talk about mineral veins in areas that don't see a lot of people.

Bradley: Oho, so you're sayin' there's a whole treasure trove no one's managed to get their grubby hands on yet? Sounds like pioneerin' could make you a ton of cash.

Nero: Brad… I didn't realize you were lookin' at this too. I thought you'd left already.

Bradley: If I up and left the hags would make my life hell. Even if I'm jus' goin' through the motions of helpin' out, I'm still goin' through em. Way more important is that these gems are lookin' pretty valuable. And you're sayin' they're just rollin' around in the South?

Next Chapter

[caledfwlchthat]

💖 🤲

WHY HELLO MUTUAL IN MY INBOX, it is actually nice to receive things, but only now do I seem to find enough executive function to pull together a response. (tomorrow I start writing my first holiday letter to friends in like a decade, I'm not even kidding)

💖 What made you start writing?

hmm. Do I rules-lawyer this? How far back do I go. Because I've been writing expressively in one way or another very nearly since I could hold a pen. Motivations probably ranged from exploring early interests (wildlife, aerial battles) to sci-fi/fantasy OCs to collaborative post-by-post silliness of the kind we see here on Tumblr all the time. Plays, poetry, fiction. Attempts at more serious blogs. I am all about the mad wordz. You could stop doors with printouts of my emails to friends.

What made me start writing fanfic was that when Homestuck -- maybe not the first media of which I could say I was a fan, but the first for which I considered myself belonging to a fandom -- ended in 2016, I saw immediately that the main source of material for my voice acting blog (entitled, as you can see, "One Man Homestuck") had reached its limits. I had at best lukewarm ambitions for a truly solo dub of the entirety of Homestuck, and I found it hard to gel with several VA collaborations to that point. These days, of course, I could always just offer to podfic my lovely mutuals' fics...

Anyway, so Homestuck had [S] ACT 7 go up in April 2016. While I was wondering what to do with myself after that, I saw a post go up about the Ladystuck Remix Challenge 2016 -- my first encounter with a fic exchange. I liked the premise of using someone else's fic as a prompt, as an amusing exercise in constrained form. So I got myself an AO3 account, threw up two short VA intro scripts I had written for Jade and Terezi as qualifying works, and then wrote How Your Other Quarter Double-Dies -- which I can't say was what I had been expecting to write, but which ended up being stacks of fun. For extra credit I did The Cafe Mocha Caper which was a stretch for my powers at the time but I can at least say it was ambitious!

And then the rest has been history. My still-in-progress longfic Rose: Remember has been going from around the same time, and while I enjoyed Ladystuck it's this fic that seems to be my big Homestuck legacy. <kermit-flail waves to @laurasauras, @katreal-fic, @hussianphilosopher>

🤲 Would you please share a snippet of a wip?

Sure, uh! Lessee. <rummages around in the back stockroom>

Oh man! I had forgotten about this one completely -- so maybe to say it's "in progress" is a bit much, but I like the concept. Premise is a peek into the kinder, gentler dreams of some of the Friendsim trolls which, unfortunately for them, are no more than that. A sampler:

"Now, you may remember that last week," Ardata intones for the grubcam's benefit, "Mashya and I brought this poor abandoned lopwing in from the sun's searing heat. We found him half-culled in the dumpster behind our hive, his ribs kicked in and a wing slashed. And it annoys me greatly to think someone, anyone, would have done this anywhere even near here." She crouches down to join her charge in the cam's frame. "How could they! This precious boy! Who knows whose lusus he could have been!" Throughout her patter, Ardata feels the palmhusk in her trouser pocket shudder with the stochastic rhythm of Chittr notifications. She'll have to take a few of those later, since they're streaming live and the chance for her viewers to interact with the rescue beasts is part of the maverick appeal of her channel. There are still a few haters who still preferred the old times when the den was a dungeon, when the floor was slick with blood, when you could smell the suffering hanging in the dank air even through the remote link. Most of them are ignored, while a few persistent hecklers are derided or quickly shouted down. She's not quite as popular as she once was, but her new brand has a persistent counterculture staying power she would never have guessed at before Mashya arrived. Ardata purses her lips to mimic the lopwing's squeaking call, and the wounded animal hops over to close the few feet of remaining distance. Her rustblood assistant silently zooms the grubcam's view in as she gently pulls one iridescent wing open. The lopwing flinches and its eyes widen, but it allows examination of its wing's torn surface -- a helpful touch from another waiting aide. She knows she couldn't do this without him, even if she can't formally acknowledge his contribution. The wing is still a mess, the ragged edges of the membrane still crudely stitched together with silk thread. But by turning it into the light, she can see that the nearby elements have begun to revascularize, which may in time knit up the great scarred slash. She points this progress out to her fans. In another three weeks, the lopwing might be able to take short flights again; a week after that, perhaps it will finally be able to outrun the predating barkbeasts and cholerbears, and can be safely released. Ardata's palmhusk buzzes again and she fishes it out, throwing her hair over her far shoulder with an artfully careless toss of her head. "Anything you'd like to tell our little guest? Let's see." She frowns, seeing no text immediately apparent in the comment box. A quick double-tap highlights what was written: What exquisite cruelty. How, exactly, will this once-wild animal last more than fifteen seconds out in nature again? Your ministrations, and those of your misguided partner in crime, have rendered it unable to survive outside; you have merely drawn out its demise. And finishing: You sick, sick monster. I approve.

[tare-chan]

First line || Last line

Rules: go to your last 5 fics and share the first and last line with no context.

I was tagged by @nire-the-mithridatist and @puolain . What an honor 🥰🥰🥰

Lessee......

My latest fic hasn't had any last line yet, so I'll skip that 🤣🤣

All are TwiYor from Spy x Family fics.

Grilled Bear: Roland keeps running || And he answers happily, "It tastes absolutely amazing!"

Little Things about you: Twilight has been a spy for a decade. || Contented with his plan, the man then lazily stretches and wraps his arms around his family, and continues his morning nap.

Truth in a Glass of Wine: “Good morning, Twilight. Or should I say good evening?” || Whether he got so flustered and angry at himself because he let himself easily roasted by Frankie and Anya, or because he just realized that he missed a perfect moment to kiss Yor, the man preferred to not think about that for now.

Daily Shenanigans of 128 Park Avenue's Resident: It was dark and gloomy. || And even though there was a tiny bit of fear in his heart regarding the uncertainty of the future, with all of them on his side, Loid knew he could handle it.

How to Stop a Rampaging Monster: Yor was rearranging her belongings in order to go home that afternoon. || Including a family of three who were happily eating their ice cream and walking through the park.

Wow, I love to write a super long sentences aren't I 🤣🤣

Now, I'd like to tag (that I can remember now) @deonideatta @littlestfallenangel @piracytheorist @nightofnyx8 @lacrow @rachellysebrook @gonnahypatia @assassinnumber9

And of course anyone else who want to play this game 🥰🥰

[solrika]

Thinking more about the background politic stuff in the Prince AU...

I imagine a very obvious stormtrooper presence everywhere, and at least for the first few months, an Imperial blockade of the airspace (space-space) above Lasan. A quiet threat.

To have a puppet prince, there has to be puppeteers. I'm not sure how many, but there's at least one person the Empire sent to "advise" Kallus and "help smooth the way." Not a military person, but like... I dunno what kind of political titles the Empire has, but uh... a governor? Or maybe the obvious route of "political advisor." They're VERY up in the Palace business at first, but the lasats quickly realized how most humans dislike their scent and used that to "encourage" them to get out.

I think they have their own building that Kallus visits. They brought their own human retinues. I don't know how much direct contact the "advisors" have with any lasat outside of Kallus. The Guard probably weasels their way into these meetings by being obnoxious about tradition.

Overall, the lasats lean very hard on how much they're underestimated as superstitious brutes to manipulate the Imperials. Little things that are rooted in "tradition" or "to please the gods" tend to get accepted as a way to keep the populace happy. Parties, holidays, festivals--they're all ways to stall political shit, create a cover for needing the freedom for intergalactic commerce, make a distraction as attacks are carried out, direct traffic to protect said attackers from Imperial pursuers...

The capital city throws SO many "cultural celebrations."

Lessee, what else... Inspired by recent events, the Imperials try to insert their curriculum into the Lasan public schools. Kallus gets the professional version of being yelled at by a very irate director of education. "Per my last message..."

The Empire wants to strip-mine Lasan. I think a lot of what we might consider eco-terrorism happens, especially in the polar regions.

I HATE hate hate the "one planetary government" thing because it feeds back into the weird monoculture thing Star Wars does, so I've decided that the polar regions are their own sovereign political state. The big Lasan gov. just sorta shrugs when the Imperials get upset about what the polar regions are up to-- "It's not our department." And then funnel resources to the rebels beneath the table.

[mikunology]

Hey!!! Congrats on hitting your donation goal first off, I'm really happy that you've got the money you need :3

Second!! At the hypothetical start of the story, where would everyone be in terms of development (like what challenges they need to overcome, etc)? Since i saw you discussing rin/len character growth things hehe >:)

hello!! thank you very much, I'm honestly really surprised I was able to meet the goal so soon?? but I'm seriously grateful ;v;

:0c!! good question! um, lessee...I was gonna write this out as paragraphs but my dumb brain isn't working correctly so I'm gonna bullet point it

Goals for Miku, summed up:

finding out what being a "hero", an "idol" and a "kind person" really means to her

become less of a coward, adapt to her new status as a heroine and realize the consequences of sitting idly/being too naive

stand up for herself and set better boundaries so that she doesn't drive herself to insanity trying to please people or letting people walk all over her

be more honest with the people around her about her feelings rather than keeping everything to herself/stop being afraid of ruining other people's images of her

learn to manage her anxiety better

Goals for Rin:

TAME YOUR EGO, MISSY. JESUS CHRIST

putting aside her self-imposed rivalry with Miku and realize that she doesn't need to be like Miku (or Len, for that matter) to be successful

learn to become more genuinely confident and not rely on bravado and arrogance

learn to be more mature and pay more mind to others' needs and desires (and realize that she can't rely on Len for everything)

learn to work better with others and handle criticism, both in terms of playing music and in terms of acting as part of the superhero team

learn to manage her temper. just a little.

Goals for Len:

STOP COMPARING YOURSELF TO EVERYBODY AROUND YOU I'M BEGGING

realizing that people (including his family) like him for the way he is and that everyone won't abandon him because he isn't perfect

learn to take himself less seriously and find more fun in doing things (Rin helps him with this)

learn to not get defensive and handle criticism as well

believe it or not, Kagamine Len. you are not always right

stop working yourself to death I swear to god

find genuine confidence in himself and his own abilities

Goals for Luka:

figure out what kind of person she wants to be and how to get there

figure out her own reasons for singing and fighting that don't just follow the others

learn to be comfortable with herself even if she can't be like the others

realize that logic and efficiency doesn't dictate everything and that she's allowed to have fun doing things just as much as everyone else

learn that just because she's a robot she doesn't have to put up with just anything done or said to her

learn how to better communicate how she feels and what she's thinking

I'll leave you with these for now!