#which should be infinitely easier to draw

[expainterorsomething]

Still working on her design!

[chronicowboy]

Song 88 for the playlist character thing!

hi! sorry this took so long but you chose possibly my favourite buddie song of all time and i just had to write a little ficlet

the door swings open (and you're standing there)

As he grabs Eddie's duffel bag from the backseat, Buck thinks of Hachikō the dog that waited for his owner to arrive at the station after work every day. How he waited long after his owner had died. Until he too eventually died at that very same station. It's far too easy to imagine himself sat just outside those airport doors, watching, waiting, withering.

Buck wouldn't get treats and food from affectionate passersby. Buck would get pitying looks from any commuter that spared him a glance.

Still, when Eddie's hand brushes his as he takes his bag, Buck thinks his tail would be wagging, if he had one. Wants to paw at Eddie for more. Wants to press his face into Eddie's neck. Wants to be a bad dog and sink his teeth in there too. Leave a mark. Remember me. Take this with you. Hate me if you have to, just take me with you.

"Got everything?" he asks instead, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"Hopefully," Eddie sighs and slips the strap over his shoulder. His eyes are skittish like a doe in a field deciding which way to run. He's fiddling with the zipper on his bag, and it takes Buck back to a too-bright kitchen, Eddie's thumbs rubbing into his palms.

This is panic. This is Eddie Diaz panicking.

"Tell Chris I say hi," Buck says. An out. Always, always an out. And then, he'd left, and Buck had had to hide behind Tommy instead. But eventually he'd left too, and Buck. Well, Buck had ruined everything. This, however, works exactly as he'd planned. Soothes Eddie's hackles right down and draws out that shaky little smile of his. "Tell him—" The words choke themselves off in Buck's throat. "Tell him I love him." And his voice comes out wrong. Wobbly and weak when this should be the easiest thing in the world to say. "Tell him I miss him, and I love him more than he'll ever know. Tell him like that."

Eddie's face cracks open again, smile shattering, the resigned eyes of a doe caught in a trap.

"Buck," he croaks. Swallows, stands to attention, sets a hand on Buck's shoulder. His thumb burns a hole into Buck's collarbone. "You're talking like you're never gonna see us again." Buck shrugs, regrets it almost immediately, waits for Eddie's hand to slip from his shoulder. It doesn't. Anchored there, sure and unyielding. "I'm gonna be back in a few weeks."

"To get your stuff, Eddie," Buck scoffs.

"Yeah." Amusement blooms across Eddie's face, unfurls in his eyes like the first bud of spring. He tilts his head to catch Buck's gaze, smiles wider. "And I'll be packing you into one of the boxes, so you can help me put all my furniture back together again."

Buck thinks it'd be infinitely easier, if he was a dog, to slip into Eddie's moving van unnoticed. Launch himself into Eddie's arms when the doors opened after eight hundred miles. Lick his face and beg for forgiveness rather than permission.

"I'm going to miss you so much," Eddie says, and it's full of that Diaz conviction that makes Buck feel like he's been overtaken by a wave. He wants to drown in it.

"I know." Buck shrugs again. Shrugs a little more than last time. Eddie's hand falls from his shoulder, and Buck hopes that was the only thing keeping him afloat.

"No, seriously." Eddie huffs at Buck, at himself maybe. He runs a hand through his hair, and those two perfectly messy strands fall right back over his forehead. Buck has thought on more that one occasion about reaching up to brush them away, but this is something that doesn't need fixing. "I'm going to be alone over there, Buck. Especially if Chris isn't ready for me to be there. And you..." Eddie doesn't choke on his words. He laughs. A sweet, tinkering sound. It reminds Buck of the windchimes in Eddie's backyard. "You have always been right there by my side. I don't really know what I'm supposed to do when you're not there anymore."

"You'll figure it out." Buck shrugs again. He glances up from the pavement just in time to catch the defeated collapse of Eddie's shoulders, his face.

"Buck..." He takes a deep breath. "I don't know if I want to figure it out."

And there are a thousand things Buck could say. A thousand unspoken words Buck has hoarded since he flipped over that stupid fucking tablet. A thousand truths he could spill in parking structure 3 at LAX during his seven-dollar half hour.

There are things he could say that Hachikō never got to.

Instead, Buck lets them all clump and clot around his heart like some cancerous mass to be removed when it's already too late.

"You should get going," he says. "Don't want to miss your flight."

Eddie looks at him for a beat too long. Eyes unnerving. Buck feels like peeling paint on a wall watching a can of paint stripper get set down on the sheet-blanketed floor. Feels like a nerve exposed to the brisk chill of winter air, every sensation just too much. So, when Eddie wraps his arms around Buck's middle, he feels it like a thicket of thorns latching onto him. It's instinct that has him catching Eddie. And it's a sword that lances straight through his chest when Eddie's grip tightens around him, hands fisting in the fabric of Buck's shirt, nose replacing his thumb on Buck's neck. Every point of contact like a weeping wound. Buck will carry each of them until he's empty.

When Eddie pulls away, it's Christopher he thinks of that allows Buck to let him slip away.

"Fly safe," he rasps.

"I'll make sure to tell the pilot there's precious cargo onboard," Eddie teases with an eyeroll. It's so close. So almost normal.

"You do that." And it's not even close. Nowhere near normal. He can't even give Eddie this. Ruins their goodbye once more.

"See you soon, Buck."

He could spare himself the pain. Could walk away right now. He was always good at that. The walking away, not the sparing himself pain. But, well, Buck couldn't not watch Eddie leave anymore than Orpheus couldn't not turn around to share in the delight of sunlight with his Eurydice. And when Eddie turns to look at him one last time, offers him a half-smile and a half-wave, before getting swallowed up by the crowd, Buck thinks it's his fault for loving him so much.

Except that's not true, is it? Orpheus travelled all the way underworld, charmed the ferryman and Cerberus and Hades himself with his music. The perfect melody of love and grief. Buck drove Eddie to the airport and just... Let him walk away.

Eddie would make a better Orpheus, he thinks. Eddie who found joy and flung the door open wide to Buck, so ready to share it with him. Eddie would make the perfect Orpheus. If only he loved Buck the way Orpheus loved Eurydice, the way Buck loves Eddie.

That's the simple truth of it. Buck loves Eddie. He'd do anything for him. And if that means crossing the Styx, losing him for good, Buck thinks it'll be worth it as long as Eddie goes knowing he's loved so completely that it becomes natural.

Buck goes through the glass doors. He slips through the crowd. Elbows his way towards the security checkpoint.

When he sees Eddie, he thinks he'd turn around for his Eurydice not to share in the light but because she is the light. Buck would gladly go blind.

Buck manages to catch him before he reaches the line for security, and Eddie turns to him with a delightfully bemused frown.

"Buck, what—"

"I'm sorry." Buck shakes his head, squeezes Eddie's wrist. "I'm sorry. I've never been good at goodbyes, but I don't know how the hell I'm supposed to say goodbye to you, Eddie."

"It's not goodbye, Buck." Eddie frowns, grabs Buck's wrist right back. "I said see you soon, and I meant it."

"I know. I know you meant it." Buck smiles. Some crumpled copy of a smile at least. "I just hope you still mean it after this." Eddie's face twists into something both confused and offended like the thought of not seeing Buck again is just so utterly unthinkable.

"What—"

"I'm in love with you, Eddie." Buck doesn't wait for a reaction. Can't. "I only just figured it out, can you believe it? Six years of you at my side, and I only realise when you're slipping right through my fingers." Buck laughs, a noise like nails on a chalkboard. "I'm not expecting anything of you. I just... I just needed to tell you before you left or otherwise I'd regret it for the rest of my life."

"Buck, I—"

"You don't have to say anything, Eddie." Buck shakes his head, still smiling. "Just promise me something?"

"Anything, but, Buck—"

"Just promise me, Eddie." He tightens his grip on Eddie's wrist, nails digging in just a little. Well, a bad dog after all. "Be honest with Chris. Tell him the whole truth. Don't go hiding things you think he can't handle it. Chance is he knows it already, he just doesn't have a name for it. And that makes it so much worse, Eddie. You grow up feeling it, but you're never allowed to look at it. And it grows and grows and grows. So, just. Tell him everything. No matter how heavy. Tell him, and the two of you will carry it together instead of alone. Promise me that, Eddie. Don't colour it with your guilt. The plain honest truth, okay?"

"Okay." Eddie nods blankly. Buck squeezes Eddie's wrist and drops it. Eddie grasps it against his chest like he's been burnt.

Buck walks away. He looks back just once.

~~~~

Eddie has been in Texas for almost a whole month. And since a perfunctory Arrived safe after his flight, they haven't talked once. So, Buck throws himself into work. Embraces the flames of a five-alarm fire like an old friend. Jumps off of thing just to feel the blessed weight of free-fall before the rope snaps taut. Covers every shift he can find until Bobby forces him to take ninety-six whole hours off.

He runs around downtown LA until his bad leg starts to scream in pain. He goes to the gym with music blasting in his headphones, so he can't hear the ugly thoughts curdling in his brain, lift weights until the shoulder he'd dislocated starts to scream too. Watches reality TV until his brain feels like it's melting right out of his ears. Eases his way into fitful sleep with shots of tequila chased by the old beers in the back of Eddie's fridge.

His first shift back is stifling. The eyes on him making him feel like a rabid dog backed into a corner. Everyone terrified of what he'll do next. So, he whispers quiet to himself in the bathroom and sighs in relief when the alarm blares.

They don't get back to the station until 3am, and Chimney is too tired to go on a manhunt for whoever jinxed them, so Buck stows himself away in the loft whilst everyone else shuffles into the bunks. He checks his phone out of habit, grinning at the picture of Maddie's sonogram she'd sent after her appointment, wonders if Chim is trying to sniffle quietly in the bunks—almost definitely.

And then, he sees the voicemail.

He doesn't really think much of it. Tries to tell himself it's probably just his doctor calling about that check-up he should be scheduling or the landlord asking if he's decided on renewing his lease or not yet, ignoring the timestamp in the corner of the little white box, ignoring the stutter of his heart and the tremble running through his body.

01:47

Buck clicks on the notification before his phone can shake right out of his hands. He brings it up to his ear, listens, waits. He takes a deep, rattling breath in perfect synchronicity with the voice on the other end of the phone.

"Hey, Buck, I'm sorry I haven't..." A pause. "God, you must have thought..." A huff. One of those laughs that's trying too hard to be a laugh and ends up being something else instead. "I don't know what I was thinking. I wasn't thinking. Jesus Christ. I'm fucking stupid, Evan Buckley. Did you know that? I, God, I don't know how I didn't see it. I've been looking at you almost every day of my life for six years and somehow I never fucking saw it. You were just...

"You're like breathing, Buck. You-you're a necessity. An instinct. You don't notice it's there until it's gone. And then you spend three and a half weeks panicking in a shitty AirBnB in El Paso because you can't fucking breathe without him. And I—" Eddie isn't breathing. Eddie has always been breath-taking to Buck, stealing the air right out of his lungs. Not for selfish gains but to take care of it when he didn't trust Buck to do it himself. "I love you. I'm in love with you, Buck. Oh, my God. I'm in love with you. I didn't know, Buck. I didn't know. You have to believe me. I didn't know. And now... It's not too late, Buck. Is it too late? Am I too late?"

"No," Buck whispers into the empty air of the station. Can't help himself. Feels the no like a parasite in him. Like a xenomorph bursting right out of his chest. Too big, too big, too big.

"I love you, and I'm two states away, and I didn't know I could love you like this, and I didn't know love could feel like this, Buck. I just want to be where you are. Always. I want to hold your hand. I want to hold you. God, I want to kiss you. Buck. I want to kiss you so badly. But I have to... Chris is here, and he's talking to me, and I'm picking him up from school now. I can't... I can't kiss you. Not yet. I need to fix our family first."

Buck clasps a hand over his mouth and sobs against his palm. He doesn't know what it is he's feeling. Couldn't name it all if he tried. The most comparable sensation he has is how it felt when he woke up after his leg. When the drugs were just strong enough that he was numb in that delicious kind of way. Warm instead of cold. Floaty. Everything dulled, but that little voice in the back of his head telling him something was wrong.

"I'm firing my realtor tomorrow, I don't care. I need to take my house off the market. My parents are driving me crazy. Christopher misses you. I miss you. I love you. I love you." Eddie laughs. And this is a laugh. A real laugh. One of his bubbles of joy that Buck wants to be encased in forever and ever. "I just. God, it's always there, Buck. It's always been right there. Writing grocery lists and running into burning buildings and driving through traffic and I was loving you the whole time. How the hell have you been carrying this around? I feel like it's going to crush me if I don't... But I left. I left. I'm so sorry I left. It's late. You're at work. I shouldn't. I love you, Buck. Okay? So much. Call me back?"

The line doesn't go dead. Eddie sits there breathing down the phone for twelve more seconds, and Buck inhales after each of his exhales like he'll be able to taste Eddie's oxygen from eight hundred miles away because he's greedy. But. But Eddie loves him. Eddie wants to kiss him. Eddie is eight hundred miles away.

Buck pockets his phone and heads for Bobby's office with something frantic buzzing away beneath his skin. He raps on the door gently, clenches his hands into fists and stuff them into his pockets as they shake, shake, shake.

"Come in," Bobby calls, quiet with the late hour. Buck pushes into the room. Too concerned with the way his spine seems to be trying to crawl out of his mouth to think about his face, but whatever expression is there has Bobby setting his pen down with three quick blinks. "Buck. Everything okay?"

"I need to go to Texas," he blurts out. Bobby blinks three more times. Okay, not quite what he'd meant to say. "I know you just gave me four days off, but I-I need to go, Bobby."

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah." Buck smiles, and he's not sure what it looks like, but it makes Bobby melt back into his seat with a smile of his own. "Everything's good, Bobby. I just need to see them."

"Take a week," Bobby says just like that.

"W-wait, really?"

"Why not? Pretty sure you've got more vacation days saved up than everyone else combined." Bobby nods, a final approval. "Hit the bunks, get some sleep, head home when you wake up, forget about any calls."

"Are you, I mean, are you sure?" he asks, doesn't realise he's almost bouncing in place until the corner of Bobby's mouth quirks up just a little more.

"Yeah, Buck, I'm sure." He jerks his head. "Go get 'em."

Buck doesn't need to be told twice.

~~~~

A day later, one miracle down and almost five hundred dollars poorer, Buck is lugging a half-zipped duffel bag out of an extortionately priced Uber. He drops the bag on the doorstep of some stranger's bungalow, raises his fist and hesitates. It's just—

Can it really be this easy? Can Buck just show up out of the blue and expect to be welcomed with those kisses Eddie had been wanting so badly? Can he have this? Can he really have Eddie?

And then, like an answer, the door swings open.

Eddie is standing there bathed in the golden light of the entryway lamp. He's frozen to the spot, paused with one arm in his jacket, the other hanging limp at his side. His jaw slack, but tugged up just a little, so slight only Buck and his PhD in Eddie Diaz would catch it. And his eyes. God, his eyes. Buck almost falls to his knees for missing those brown eyes alone. Now, they're the warmest Buck has ever seen them, wide and full of wonder. Buck did that. Buck filled Eddie's eyes with awe and fondness and so much love he thinks he could drown in it even if he was still in LA and looking at them through a screen.

"Buck," Eddie breathes, smile dawning over his face like the most beautiful sunrise Buck has ever seen.

He doesn't even get to open his mouth before Eddie's arms are around him, and Buck doesn't know why he was mourning Eddie's house when this is so clearly home—the pounding of Eddie's heart against his own. Buck slides his arms around Eddie's waist, slips them under the jacket hanging from his left shoulder, buries his face in Eddie's neck and breathes in as much home as he can fit in his lungs. Eddie does the same, just clings to Buck, inhales, digs his fingers into Buck's back deep enough that he hopes they bruise.

"You're here," Eddie whispers into Buck's skin.

"I got your message," Buck rasps.

Eddie pulls away like it's the last thing he wants to do, barely even pulls away, just enough to look. And, oh, does he look. Takes Buck in from head to toes, lingers on his lips just a moment longer than the rest. Looks at Buck like he's seeing fire for the first time, amazed, enchanted, just the tiniest bit afraid. He's beaming. It's not a smile, not a grin. It's a beam. Buck wants to bottle it.

"Going somewhere?" Buck asks, plucking at the half-on, half-off—half-on, what the hell, Buck's feeling optimistic—jacket. Eddie glances down at it blankly, shrugs right out of it and lets it fall to the floor without taking his eyes off Buck.

He's not sure who cracks first, but their twins grin burst. Eddie almost doubles over with the force of his laughter, catching himself on Buck's shaking shoulders. And Buck doesn't know how long they stand on the doorstep just laughing, but he thinks he could stay there forever. Could get drunk off the sound of Eddie's joy. Because that's what it is really. The jacket falling hadn't been this funny. Nothing was this funny. Because this was just what happened when happiness grew too big to be contained.

Eventually, their laughter fades into huffed little breaths that makes Buck feel like that exposed nerve again when they hit the skin of his neck.

"Hey, Buck," he says, joy glowing in the pink of his cheeks. "I love you."

"Hey, Eddie." Buck smiles, but that isn't really a big enough word for what he's feeling. "I love you."

Eddie kisses him like he's been thinking of nothing else for a month. Eddie kisses him like he's run all the way from El Paso to LA just to kiss him. Eddie kisses him like it's the end of the movie and the music is swelling and the fireworks are exploding. Eddie kisses him like he's kissed him a thousand times before.

Gentle. Chaste, really. Desperately careful. Devastatingly tender. Fond and enamoured and loving. It tastes of joy.

Eddie pulls back only to lean in again. Drops one, two, three, four more kisses to Buck's mouth before dragging his thumb over his bottom lip. His eyes flicker to Buck's, a question, and Buck answers. Leans in and keeps on leaning. Asks Eddie, asks the universe, pleads, demands: fuse us together, let me crawl inside, I'll stay, I'll stay right here. And Eddie doesn't just permit him. Eddie opens up to him, answers with a question of his own: can I be yours, can this be us, can I call you mine?

When Buck pulls away, he finds the eighth wonder of the world. Eddie, kiss-dishevelled, swollen lips, cheeks red, hair mussed, eyes glossed over.

"You're here," Eddie croaks, voice hoarse from just a kiss. Buck's knees go weak. "How long are you here for?"

"Bobby gave me the week," Buck says, breathless from the best kiss of his life.

"Well, that'll have to do, I guess," Eddie teases.

He kisses Buck three more times before dropping to a crouch. All the blood in Buck's head floods South so fast he's dizzy with it. But Eddie stands back up with his jacket, tosses Buck's duffel bag into the entryway and pushes him off the doorstep.

"Come on. We're gonna be late."

"Late for what?" Buck asks, still half-stuck on the image of Eddie basically dropping to his knees in front of him.

"Dinner with my parents," Eddie says as he locks the door.

"Uh..." Buck blinks. "Do you want... Sh-should I wait here?"

"If you think I'm letting you out of my sight, you're crazy." Eddie cups the side of his face and pecks him once on the lip before heading to the truck. It's so domestic, so perfectly easy. Buck thinks he must be losing his mind because there's no way to kiss someone like that two minutes after your very first kiss. "Besides." Eddie throws him a grin as he slips into the driver's seat. "If Chris found out I'd kept you from him for even a second, he'd really never forgive me."

[neko-naruto]

new setting (new ideals)

Summary: Wherein John Dory accidentally sneaks into the home universe of Sans after a very small margin of victory in the latest multiversal tourney; things escalate in unprecedented ways after the local scientist sizes him up to scale.

Warnings: swearing, drinking, god i am so sorry for this

Authors Note: @ohposhers @bulliestrolls someone needs to put you two in the fucking slammer for drawing sansdory, and then they need to put me in the slammer for writing sansdory. for the sake of enjoying this fic please picture JD as a lot more creature than in canon.

John Dory was small enough to fit inside of Sans' coat pocket.

Sans discovers this the hard way when the ex leader of brozone falls out of his pocket after his return to Snowdin.

"Ain't snow fucking way." Was what Sans managed as he stared at the unmoving body in the snow, far too small to be considered the average monster for the underground. The Troll would be eaten without a second thought, mistaken for the bugs Muffet doesn't provide protection for.

He plucks the tufted tail and holds up John Dory like he's a dead rat. Of course he snaps awake as soon as Sans is holding him at eye height, and with a screech he's flung aside as the skeleton lurches back.

Sans pauses to catch his breath, "Okay, so you're not dead. That's good."

"Where am I?!" Was John Dory's instant question as he shook the snow from his hair and brushed himself down.

"Pipe down pipsqueak, I won't let you get squished," Sans said as he took a seat on the snow. He held out a hand, "We should probably get you situated with Alphys, size you up a bit."

John reluctantly stepped onto a gloved hand and took a seat on the palm, it was cold and unpleasant. His tail thwipped loudly despite his size, "Anything else in mind to get me back home?" The words are agitated.

"Want me to leave you here?"

Silence.

"Thought so, I'll give you a hand in figuring it out, but you're playing by my rules bud."

"How were you the reigning champ for years on end?"

"The girlies liked me for my dry humor, MILF hunting attitude, and undetermined backstory- and my infinite fuckability of course."

"Must suck not having a dick."

Sans just gives a hum before giving John a gently toss, only a few inches but he still yelps and clings desperately to phalanges when he lands back in Sans' hand. It garners a chuckle from the skeleton, "Pal, I got extremities you couldn't even dream of, and no, that isn't an invitation to start listing 'em off."

John Dory shuts his mouth.

"Don't be shocked if Alphys tries to fill you up with needles and probes."

"With what-"

"She's a curious gal."

-/-/-/-

Thankfully the resizing process involves a lot less probing than Sans said it would, which John is eternally grateful for. He'd like to avoid having a cold piece of metal shoved up his ass if possible. The process just required a small blood sample and some weighing before he was resized with one little ray.

And then he was the exact same height as Sans, give or take a few inches.

"Proportionately, I can see why you won," Sans said, hands stuffed in his pockets and expression same as always. It's far too hard for John Dory to read, he can't tell if it's sarcastic or genuine.

"Thanks." He shrugs off the compliment because he doesn't know how to take it.

"Is it easier to see why I was the reigning champ?" Sans asked.

"You're the furthest thing from 'sexyman' out there," John Dory said before he could actually think about the words exiting his mouth.

Sans laughed, "Tell it to The Onceler, if you can convince him to take me off the bracket then I'll stop trying my best."

"You don't try at all."

"The girlies like me for that."

"What is it with you and the girlies?"

"What makes you think that the guys were voting for me?" Sans shot back, "Think you can walk and talk? I know a shortcut."

"Good point," John Dory said, "I can walk and talk."

"Cool." Sans holds out a hand.

"What?"

"Gotta hold my hand to take the shortcut."

John places his paw atop Sans hand and the grip the motion is received with is far too intense to be considered normal. But a shortcut is a shortcut, and he'll just have to take help to get around this universe until he can get home.

-/-/-/-

"Ketchup?"

"Yeah man, ketchup." Sans tossed a bottle to John Dory as he spoke, the Troll catching it with ease.

"You expect me to drink ketchup? I've had worse, but what about alcohol?" John asked.

"Bud," Sans began, "The bartender is a living flame, you really think he wants to be handling highly flammable stuff?"

"Fair point, but can you actually get drunk offa ketchup?" John asked, and he gave this slanted smirk as he spoke, partially leaning an elbow on the bar. He's gotten more comfortable after a week in Sans' hometown, he lives in the room under the sink in the skelebros household and made it his own until later notice.

Sans gives a hum, "Wanna find out?"

John grins before popping off the cap, "Try me."

-/-/-/-

"What do they put in this shit, Sans?" The words are spoken with a giggle and despite the ache in his head John Dory goes back for more.

"Tomatoes," Sans answered with, still slowly downing his first serving of ketchup.

"It's gotta be more than that, bonedaddy," John Dory purred, leaning a little bit more on the bar and resting his chin in his hands.

A distinct azure rises to Sans' face, "I think you've had too much ketchup."

"You meant it."

"What?"

"When we were in the lab, when you said I looked hot. You meant it, you like me," John deduced rather skillfully despite his inept state.

"And if I do?" Sans asked.

John pauses, "It'd be hot, Sans and John Dory double teaming the tourney."

"Alright, we should get home," Sans said, sliding off his bar stool and holding out a gloved hand.

John Dory took it and slid off his own stool, his tail wagged about lazily. His face is burning up and he looks oddly lovesick, a realization that Sans makes the choice to ignore until he can contemplate it late at night. Alone. In bed. By himself.

The Troll slinks an arm under Sans' shoulders, face resting atop the fluff of his hoodie and nuzzled into the collar of his turtleneck, he still clutches a hand tightly. He gives a contented hum, "Your jacket's soft."

"I know."

"You're soft."

"That's an odd thing to say considering I'm all bones."

"I'll show you bones."

"We really gotta get you home."

"And then?"

"And then you're going to sleep, no goodnight kiss."

-/-/-/-

Another week passes and Papyrus suddenly has to deal with the fact that Sans and John Dory are being overtly romantic.

"Your teeth are cold." John Dory would always say whenever he tried to kiss Sans.

"The girlies like it." Sans would always answer.

And sometimes John Dory would try again to get the usually snapped shut jaw open, or he'd say, "I guess I'm one of the girlies."

They'd laugh and after a small beat of silence continue on with their day.

Maybe it's selfish that Sans is keeping John Dory from a way back to his own universe, but he's pretty sure the Troll doesn't mind. He's stopped asking when he'll get to go back home at least, and Sans is benefiting from having someone around.

It makes the resets more tolerable if nothing else, and Sans just doesn't tell John about them. About the times he's watched everyone die and everyone live, he never speaks a word of it. And unless Frisk brings it up, he won't have to know of the amnesia or the violence.

And they can keep living their happily ever after.

[plgiftexchange]

Questions from Interest Check

Hello all! Thanks for all of your interest, and thank you for filling out the Interest Check! We still have quite a bit left until the Interest Check closes, but I figured I would answer a few Interest Check/Ask Box questions now, and answer the rest closer to the end of the Interest Check:

Is traditional art accepted in this exchange? Do art gifts require a specific resolution/file quality/etc?

Yes, traditional art is accepted! Traditional art must be shared via a high-quality scan and/or photograph. We do not have any specific resolution requirements, but as long as it meets the standards of art submissions (Minimum: Colored Sketch Maximum: Colored Full Piece (w/ background)) then it should be fine. During the event, we will have two check-ins, and if anyone has any questions about image quality, etc, you can absolutely reach out to me with any pictures they may have of your work!

Would AUs be allowed? if so, how would it work when submitting the form? For example, If I had an AU I wanted artwork of, would I have to explain what the basis of it was & offer artwork references of the designs if there were any? I would expect including AUs would really complicate things & it wouldn't be allowed for that reason, but I felt it was worth asking anyways

Personally, I think having AUs might be an interesting way to do this years gift exchange. Last year we had a lot of OCs set in the Layton universe, and I think it might be an interesting way to change it up with allowing AUs (We didn't necessarily NOT allow AUs last year, it just didn't come up.) This year, we will have several prompt lines that people can post one prompt each in, and a requirement will be all submissions have to have at least one base canon Layton prompt (which can include ships), just because that will make it infinitely easier to pair people up. If someone were to submit an AU, it would require some sort of pdf or drive file that anyone can access where people can see the jist of the AU with any relevant images. It will also require a short blurb about the AU (that is easy to read- please don't send an essay) with what it's about, and then (if the prompter would like) prompts alongside that. Again, I'm quickly mentioning that the prompter will be required to have an non-AU prompt, just given that it will be hard to pair people up with people who do/ do not want to draw Professor Layton AUs, but I do think its an interesting idea! People who submit AUs will not have a guarantee that their AU will be drawn, but it will certainly be an option that the person who is drawing the gift can take if they want.

If I chose "Crossover Pieces" in 4th question, will I have an opportunity to draw someone's PL OCs too (For example PLvsPW and PL OC/s in it)?

Probably? It really depends where the interest check lands, but right now it's a 50/50 about whether people would like to do just base canon Layton art or include Layton OCs. As mentioned above, I personally think it would be really interesting to do a gift exchange that allows AUs and OCs; however, it will be infinitely more difficult to organize. It really depends on how many people are planning on joining the gift exchange!

No, but we will require at least 2 social medias (which CAN include email) to take part! This is in case we need to contact you via other means. The social medias that will be included will include Twitter, Tumblr, Discord, and Email. The reason for the limit with social media is just to make it a lot manageable for us to pair people together, especially given that we are hosting this on Twitter/Tumblr mainly, and people usually enjoy being able to actually give their gift to their own Secret Buddy (which would require people only on tumblr to be paired with people either only on tumblr or both on tumblr/twitter, etc).

Lastly, I'm going to preface that we will try our hardest with pairing everyone up with the best person possible! Doing so is, of course, a bit difficult given that we primarily will not be pairing spoiler characters/games with people who have not played that game, but we will try our best. We're very excited to see what people create- we had a blast last year with hosting this on Twitter, and we're very excited to host it again!

---

Some smaller updates: We now have a little blurb talking about what a gift exchange/secret santa is on the website! Feel free to check that out if you would like to know what this event is.

We've also set up the Gift Exchange 2024 role on our PLGiftExchange Discord Channel! Please join us here!

Any new questions submitted will be added in a reblog from this post within the next couple days!

~~~

[blacktabbygames]

Good mornighternoon. Do you have any advice on making writing and/or coding branching dialogue less confusing?

It's always going to be confusing and difficult to keep track of branching, but here's some things that I think have helped. Gonna break this down into a few sections to make it a little easier to follow.

Foundations and Research

So much practice for me came from being obsessed with Bioware games growing up, especially Dragon Age and Mass Effect — just keeping track of complicated branching world states in complex games you already enjoy is extremely good exercise, and the best way to get better at thinking about a medium is to consume and discuss things in that medium.

Building on that, I think that the best media to take a deep dive into to improve your own craft is something that you really like, but that feels like it missed the mark in a few areas that are important to you. Again, revisiting Mass Effect and Dragon Age, I absolutely loved the way that those games set up challenging decisions, but was frustrated at how easy it was to circumvent those choices entirely. By the time Abby and I started work on Scarlet Hollow, I feel like I had a strong foundation from obsessively consuming those works and the two of us discussing at length how we wanted to handle branching compared to games we've enjoyed in the past.

The Big Picture

The bigger your project, the more important it is to have intentionality to your choices. With both Scarlet Hollow and Slay the Princess, we decided on the major themes of the story and wrote down and outlined all of our Big Plot Points before we wrote a word of the actual script.

It can also help to come up with Rules for your piece that fit within your outline. These aren't necessarily ever words that are directly communicated in the game, but rather something for you to personally follow (and to break, on occasion). To give some examples of rules we've come up with for Scarlet Hollow: Every chapter must have a "major" decision with seemingly only bad outcomes towards the end. Each of these decisions must have a secret "out" mapped to a trait. Each trait gets exactly one out. Every episode must contain at least one decision where the focus is the player's relationship with Tabitha. The story must come back together in a recognizable structure after a split. As an extension of that last point, subsequent playthroughs must feel both Similar and Different. Again, these aren't hard and fast rules, and one of the joys of writing is knowing which rules you should break and when you can break them. (So if you're reading this post and trying to use it to theorize about future plot developments, good luck!)

Having a finished outline and rules are important because then, as you work on the minutiae, you'll already have a strong framework to build around. Suddenly, when you're crafting decisions and thinking about cascading consequences, you're not just branching out into an infinite void: instead, you're actively working to draw everything into a set of predetermined thematic and structural points.

The Little Details

When it's time to write your script, it's very important to remain focused in the moment — if you think too long about the scale of a branching narrative and the work it requires, you'll find yourself easily overwhelmed. Just work on one menu at a time in one scene at a time, and you'll find a way to keep things straight and to get it done.

When writing a menu, define your player's options with intent. What are the things (within reason) that you would want to do in a scene? What emotional range do you want to grant the player? Do two options cover the same intent and emotionality? If so, condense them, and keep the option that's more fun.

Emotionality is very important here, so I want to take an extra line to emphasize it. Ask yourself, "what are the different reactions a player might have to this, emotionally" and find a way to let them express those emotions. Letting them express those emotions doesn't always mean you let the *action* behind those emotions work — it's more about acknowledging those feelings and letting them bake into the narrative.

Bolding this one because it's very important track everything. A lot of the callbacks and references in Scarlet Hollow aren't actually pre-planned — we just make sure to track most player decisions so if we realize we want to make a reference to something that might have happened, there's already a variable in place for it. An example of this that comes to mind is the "dead moms" callback in Episode 4, which we didn't plan in advance, but when we realized how right that callback was for that scene, we already had that information tracked.

I think I accidentally talked about a lot of stuff outside the scope of your question, but narrative design is such an interesting subject and I like talking about it. Hopefully this is helpful!

[sgiandubh]

Far away and long ago

One thing leading to another, I tried to watch A Princess for Christmas yesterday, prompted by my Peleș/Pelișor Anon answer and I have to say I am grinning as I write this post: it is, after all, a Hallmark movie, isn't it?

Maybe if I were drunk and/or in good company, it would have been easier. I was neither, so it was unwatchable. Even with the bits of personal nostalgia, knowing very well all the sets they used: from the two castles in Sinaia, to the Știrbei (princely) House private chapel in Buftea, to the Bragadiru Palace in Bucharest they obviously used for that ball. I finished skimming on fast forward for S and howled at this bit of Imdb trivia, I believe with all my heart to be wishful thinking:

Not only I do not believe ever seeing/hearing such a thing in all the interviews I have read/watched (of which they are a shameless handful), but it would be completely out of character for 'No Ego' 2014 S to declare such a preposterous thing (correct me if I am wrong, for I truly believe I am not).

Anyways. When it looks low budget, it is a low budget (with Eastern European logistics) D-series thing, despite all their efforts. Plot is downright stupid and the painful cheesiness permeating the slightest line uttered makes it unredeemable. Nuh-oh: not even to kill time, not even on a flight from Almaty to Saint Petersburg. No way.

Low budget is particularly apparent when it comes to costumes. This one, for example...

Her dress is ok-ish (heavily insisting on the -ish, here). But his uniform is an operetta reinterpretation of the Romanian Army's dorobanț (infantry) State Protocol uniform. An exact copy of the 1877 Independence War officer outfit (itself a Second Empire French uniform copycat, but that's just the historian in me nitpicking, of course):

The above is a very recent pic (2023 Remembrance Day festivities at a British War Cemetery near Bucharest). I know that place well, spent all my childhood 1 mile away, my grandparents owned a house in that village. It is a small, forlorn plot of infinite melancholy and a striking sight, with its carefully trimmed grass, among what used to be cornfields, circa 1984. 'This is British soil', my grandfather once told me and that made it both absurd and enticing: an alien enclave of sorts, a city of the dead. He was correct, by the way, and that gave our Remembrance Day expeditions a sort of strange, furtive charm. We always brought flowers and he, a former officer and POW, would always salute, bareheaded under heavy rain. But, I digress.

Both that movie and my recollections were far away and long ago. Mercifully so for S, at least. The difference in demeanor, profile and presence is undeniable, no matter what the Disgruntled Tumblrettes would tell you: some pushed the cheapness up to the gratuitous folly of 'he was a much better actor then'. Well, he wasn't: no chemistry with a female co-star who would clearly be more eager to have a dental surgery intervention. And no presence every time a very tired Roger Moore is around, which makes for roughly three-quarters of his part. But unlike many striving wannabes, he managed to pull out of the Prince Ashton (🙄) typecast and give us a very credible JAMMF, when starts aligned and with a surreal bit of luck.

If he could manage to pull out of the JAMMF typecast, I see great things. Until then, I will stand by my words: this is a guy with tremendous, but completely overlooked/untapped potential, who has been repeatedly miscast. And this is why what would immediately happen after OL is of critical importance. Brace yourselves.

On another, completely unrelated note: should I wait for that US copycat, disingenuous McTavish booze circus tour to end, in order to draw a line and my thoughts on his brand? I think I should, but always happy to oblige to public demand :)

[xueyuverse]

The Angel Who Chose to Fall

🧵one-shot | 🔞 nsfw!

Prompt: Angel! Xie Lian/Demon! Hua Cheng

For @/nopommies for TGCF Gotcha for Gaza @/TGCFAction on X

⚠️ English is not my first language.

PT-BR version:

Xie Lian has long been the darling of the heavens. Everyone had their eyes on them, mortal, god, angel or demon, after all Xie Lian was a strange man with his almost infinite benevolence and a strong temperament, sometimes cynical and sarcastic, sometimes kind and merciful.

Even with his eccentricity, Xie Lian was the justice of the Mortal Realm, the center of the world.

No one knows what exactly made everything go wrong to the point where Xie Lian deliberately stooped to such a… dirty path.

How could Xie Lian, the number one angel of heaven, the favorite of the gods, have become a mere prostitute of the number one Demon King, the Scourge of Heaven!!!

Well, Xie Lian and Hua Cheng's story doesn't follow that path, and it wasn't nearly as short as to be summarized in so few words.

“But they’re not exactly wrong,” said Xie Lian, smiling facetiously as he held a book containing his legends.

Hua Cheng tsked, which only made Xie Lian laugh: “What? Don’t you agree that I’m a slut eager to spread my legs and warm the bed of Demon King Number 1?” Xie Lian questioned, his cheeks flushed from imagining himself in such a vulgar way.

He put down the book and climbed into his husband's lap, who placed his hands on his thighs and automatically pulled him closer.

“They shouldn’t talk about you like that.” Xie Lian raised an eyebrow, running his hands up and down Hua Cheng's abdomen and chest, removing the robe that no longer hid anything in the way. “No, scratch that, they shouldn’t even think that about you.”

Xie Lian shook his head and climbed further onto Hua Cheng's lap, sighing contentedly when he felt his dick right in the crack of his ass. “Um, weren't you the one who, our first time, made me live on water, bread and dick for ten days? Becoming an addict and a mere vessel for your enjoyment?”

“Gege!”

Xie Lian raised his eyebrows: “This is all your fault, San Lang.” He bent down to kiss Hua Cheng's chest. “Deal with the consequences.”

Hua Cheng's eyes darkened and suddenly Xie Lian was turned over on the bed, causing him to scream and laugh, his big white wings lightly flapped twice, and his arms were pinned against the bed by big, strong hands.

Xie Lian bit his lips, feeling warm, and tied his legs around Hua Cheng's waist.

“And my gege thinks he’s not to blame?” The demon asked in a cynically rhetorical way, pressing a thigh against Xie Lian's dick and drawing a sigh from him. Hua Cheng laughed, hoarse and dark. “Has he forgotten that he teased me for days as he fled my touches and ignored my advances until he exploded on his own, screaming that I should fuck him—”

Xie Lian screamed and flailed as if he wanted to hide, his face was red to the point that it almost made Hua Cheng feel sorry, but he definitely felt his dick throb. “I got it! Okay, I admit my hypocrisy.”

It was Hua Cheng's turn to raise his eyebrow: “I'm sorry, gege, but that's not enough.”

Xie Lian didn't say anything, he couldn't, any words he had to say were silenced by Hua Cheng's lips, only moans and sighs came out with the dominating touches of the demon's forked tongue.

Hua Cheng patted Xie Lian's knee twice, enough to have those beautiful, long legs open for him. Xie Lian was wearing nothing but a transparent white robe, which only made him even more adorable and made it easier for Hua Cheng to touch him, who only had to lower his hand to the angel's voluminous ass and insert two fingers inside him, already lubricated and relaxed from previous rounds.

Xie Lian whimpered and raised his hips in search of more of those touches. His wings flapped nervously against the mattress and his halo, a thorn-like mark around his head, glowed faintly. His robe opened and spread beneath him, which made Hua Cheng lean in hungrily and grab one of his nipples at the same time as he inserted a third finger, the three of them together constantly hitting the prostate.

Hua Cheng sucked, licked, sucked and bit Xie Lian's nipple hard, filling his mouth until he ran out of air. And the other nipple was not left unattended, the fingers of the demon's free hand pinched it, pulled it, twisted it and rubbed it, and in the end both were reddened and stuck up, one with teeth marks around it.

And as for Xie Lian, he desperately clung to Hua Cheng, his nails traced deep red marks on the demon's back and arms, like rivers of blood, his eyes were closed and his eyebrows were arched, his mouth was open in an "o" and saliva accumulated in the corners until it ran.

His back suddenly arched, his legs spread even wider and he stood up, his teeth pierced skin and flesh and his mouth filled with sweet demon blood, the musky smell only made Xie Lian suck in more of that blood, the taste of which was incomparably unmatched by any lamb.

Hua Cheng, who had already grabbed the other nipple and was now giving the reverse treatment, groaned as he felt the sharp teeth pierce his neck.

He laughed, his voice deep and mischievous, full of amusement.

“Ah, I didn’t realize my gege has been so hungry.” Hua Cheng withdrew his fingers from inside Xie Lian, which made Xie Lian groan, and turned them over. He sat against the headboard, with Xie Lian sitting on his lap. Hua Cheng lifted the angel by the waist, inserted his dick into his anus and made him descend. Just that made Xie Lian remove his teeth from Hua Cheng's neck and throw his head back.

Hua Cheng's dick had a scaly texture, full of bumps and bulging veins, so Xie Lian having such a... thing inside him, whether in his ass or mouth, stimulated sensations that made him hypersensitive.

Xie Lian grabbed Hua Cheng's arms, once smooth and now full of crimson scales, as well as his chest, part of his neck and around his left eye, lifted onto his knees and jumped.

Hua Cheng smiled and lightly squeezed Xie Lian's thighs: “My gege— ah… do you want to give me a show, huh?” Xie Lian nodded eagerly, “Yes!!!” Hua Cheng laughed and raised a hand to Xie Lian's face, caressed her cheek and pulled her lip, “Then let me enjoy it.”

Xie Lian pushed Hua Cheng against the pillows and bounced on his dick without stopping, his delicate moans and needy whimpers mixing with the demon's hoarse moans and rumbling purrs.

“Ah, my gege— nh, my angel… hmm, are you able to leave the heavens and roll in the dirt just for my dick?” Hua Cheng closed one hand on Xie Lian's hair and pulled, making him cry out cunningly.

“Yes!!!”

“Ah, so it’s all about my dick?”

The only response was a tearful moan.

Hua Cheng grabbed his hips, holding him still against his hips, deeply impaled by his cock.

“San Lang!”

The demon turned them around again, careful not to hurt the angel with the claws that had grown from his nails, put his legs on his shoulders and thrust, strong thighs slapping against his buttocks. Hua Cheng bent down to kiss and bite Xie Lian, bending him in half.

“Since gege is only here for my dick, then that’s what he’ll get” said Hua Cheng in an animalistic voice, which only made Xie Lian harden and drool more.

Xie Lian whimpered, tears streaming down his cheeks: “Nh—I don’t even—oh, ah! —, I didn’t even respond! San Lang!”

“I took your silence as a “yes”.” He smiled evilly. Xie Lian cried more, but he couldn't say anything else.

***

“Why does San Lang have to be so mean?” asked Xie Lian in a fragile tone, his throat hoarse after screaming and crying for hours.

Hua Cheng laughed, squeezing Xie Lian in his embrace, his chest against his back, making him cry softly as his prostate was stimulated by the demon's hardened cock.

“Wasn’t Gege a little mean too?” whispered Hua Cheng into his ear, making a lazy thrust.

“Ah… San Lang, I was just surprised by the question at the time!”

“And now gege has an answer?”

Xie Lian smiled.

“Um… how could I have San Lang’s dick if I didn’t crawl through the mud for him?”

Hua Cheng growled, thrusting again, this time hard.

Xie Lian let out a scream, half laughing and half groaning.

“That would never be necessary. If my gege wants something, just ask me.”

[alicenpai]

taking a break from merch!

been feeling incredibly burnt out, so here are some thoughts on merch and events and shop stuff this year 🤔 LONGGG ass ramblings below

im going to be posting maybe like 1 or 2 merch posts daily for the next week-ish, just as a heads up!

i apologize in advance bc i feel like sometimes people just do not care about merch posts as opposed to regular ol' drawings (yes i know the psychology is that people dont like to be advertised to)... but i think the launch of my shop opening was pretty poorly timed 😬

the canada post strike (making canadians averse to purchases online, although i do not use canada post, i think a lot of people are under the assumption that most businesses use canpost) + combined with the EU product safety scare + maybe with tons of black friday competition + posting on the weekend has mixed results ..

i'm reconsidering the decision to reopen the store in dec, as i won't have any new items. additionally, this has been long overdue - i'm going to take a break from merch (besides the few events i already have coming up in dec+jan) to focus on what i really want from art. another thing that i gotta bring up is - this is the first year where i started doing more events past the summer, and well into the winter. i usually make a huge batch of new designs in late spring (for my biggest event, anime north), and a smaller batch in late summer (otakuthon). but, now i've been making new designs year round, which really is not something i'm used to, and contributed to the burnout. i've often been questioning myself, "does this need to be made?", "is this good art?" and it leads me to spiral more than necessary.

similarly, i should be working on my portfolio instead, as a lot of my portfolio works are from art school T__T i keep postponing it, i tell myself "oh just one more event, just one more event" bc i have trouble dividing my attention. how did i even do personal art + buttload of homework during animation school? HAHAHA. not to be harsh but like. what am i doing honestly 😭... i love making personal art, but i WISH i had MORE to show for my career. i want to go back into visual development. once im ready, i'll go back to drawing illustrations. in the meantime, i'll do a lot of reflection and chatting with friends, playing games, etc. getting in touch with the things i missed while i was busy crunching... --- also compiling a list of products that i have thoughts on - charms: - right off the bat, as i mentioned before, i think i've exhausted all i can from this lineless/borderless charm style! chibis for me are not artistically that interesting to draw hahaha... i don't think i'll make any more of charms in this style (unless i get a really good idea?). - i've been thinking of either stopping charms altogether, or lessening charm designs in the future. if i still... want to make charms after my break... i might opt to draw in a bust style instead. i'm really inspired by these one piece designs by my friend avenoirn..!! and these rdr wood charms by searift are so good!! but otherwise my current plan is to just focus on prints and stickers. they are infinitely easier to store too AHAHAHA.

- above: furthermore, this style does not suit all series unfortunately, examples above where i think the design is a bit weak... and i think that's where my weakness lies T__T i make things to satiate my curiosity for a short while HAHAHA but there are so many times where i'm just not proud of, or i feel indifferent, to the merch i make months down the road. - unfortunately charms are a huge seller at conventions, because of their small nature and cute quality i guess they make good gifts? i find that for me my charms didn't sell well in the past, until i switched over to this new style in 2023. i think along the way i started prioritizing charms more, and just making things that didn't work in the style like above. in reality, my heart wanted to make illustrative stuff like prints and sticker sheets, even though these products take infinitely longer to create, due to the amount of drafting and research i put into each piece. (funnily enough charms dont sell as well online + people buy stickers more) - it's getting infinitely more and more expensive to import charms from asia. first of all, shipping costs have increased, and secondly... government customs fees are truly the icing on top. it's been hard for small businesses since covid, and how heavily chinese packages have been taxed. - to be transparent, here are my suppliers: - i used vograce from 2015-2022, but over time felt that their quality declined so i stopped using them. - i use juno consistently, but also opt for kuien if i need a rush order done (~within a week, but also gotta pay premium for that rush service!!). - i have tried wooacry and can attest that their quality is good! to me it's not much different than juno's quality, besides small colour nuance and there (since wooacry's printers have the ability to print from RGB), however my designs tend to be on the simpler side.

- above, wooacry: although, it's hard to keep sizes consistent between designs (but i am a fool in this regard because i didn't check the digital mockup that precisely), so i probably won't use wooacry for huge character lineups unless i am 100% sure my charm designs are all the same size. - also geez... i didn't know people felt so hostile towards charms. (the entire disk horse on twitter if you've seen it. the original poster made a 2nd post that clarified their intent, which was, honestly?? incredibly well thought and nuanced. but the first post opened a whole can of worms, that didn't need to be that explosive from the get go, exposing myself and many other artists who make charms to other people's aggressive viewpoints). - at the same time, i understand that the scope of "anime fan merch" is very much "lowbrow art", but to act superior because one doesn't make acrylic products is a bit discouraging to say the least. i have already wanted to stop or slow down on charm designs for a long time, but this is the final blow for me. like damn. okay. ---

stickers: - importing stickers from US suppliers into canada has also similarly become more expensive with taxes TT to be transparent, i use stickerbunnies and i personally love them, however with taxes and slow response times, i cannot vouch for them all too much if you don't live in the US. however i think they would be okay if you didn't have a deadline (e.g. off peak con season) - currently i'm looking into local canadian manufacturers with affordable pricing, as well as the ability to commit to rather large orders (a few hundred)... unfortunately i'm rather picky with vinyl quality. my biggest character flaw. i used jukebox for a few designs, however they are pricey if there is no current sale. --- specialty: - also this is something ive been thinking for a while, but i'm likely going to discontinue "specialty" merch in the future..

- above: anything that's not prints, stickers, regular charms... - it's ironic bc as artists grow bigger they want to branch out into new unique types of merch.. i just don't find that they sell that well for me >< i'm a bit sad at the marcille pudding, i honestly thought it would sell better. still fawkin love it though. - they cost an arm and leg to boot = higher price = harder to sell? or maybe my design sense is just bad!!!!! - the only specialty stuff i have ideas for right now are some baccano coins + poker chips... wooacry posed a potential interest for them so im. rubbing my hands greedily like a fly. -- wood: - whoa i was really negative above LMAO. one thing i DO want to try out more are layered wood pins!!

- i really enjoyed working on the wooden layton pins i have... they don't sell that well online anymore i guess bc all of my followers have seen it a million times already LMAO but they sell quite well in person!! - thankfully wood is not that pricey and i can stick to small batches for them (like 10 quantity each?) - inspiration: i LOVE these wooden dunmeshi pins seirui made. i cant wait for mine to arrive...!! also love the backing pins, they add so much character!! general - oftentimes when i make a set of products, i find that main characters sell better than supporting characters. after a while of promoting them as last chance items online + bargain bin items at cons, they just don't sell and i'm left with a ton of unwanted merch T__T what do i do with the rest of the characters that don't sell? i do have to admit i'm concerned about waste, and there are no good resources on recycling old merch. - what i did in the past was - for buttons specifically - tear them apart AHAHAHAHA. buttons are made out of metal + paper + plastic and the former two can be recycled in my area. i'm not sure if it helps but i tried to do it as per my area's recycling rules... - acrylic charms are another matter altogether. i try to gift them as much as i can... - prints are great however because i can just use them as scrap paper or recycle them if unwanted!! - i got a little carried away making merch this year. i think i'll have to go back to my old method, which was making merch in small quantities, and only sell a small number that i can confidently rely on (~10 or less).

[stellarcat52]

A familiar needs a magician... right? Right.

Esther died and Monty should have too. But something saved him and Caleb Covington has something to do with it. The warlock seems to want a familiar, and Monty just wants to be safe.

This is one part of a larger story. I'll post more if people seem interested!

-----

When a magician creates a familiar, it connects the animal to their soul. A familiar lives and dies with its magician. A familiar cannot feel hunger or thirst. They are not animals, nor are they tools. A familiar is the living connection between a magician and the spirit of the earth, a core of night infinite magic. But the familiar will never be able to draw on that magic without it passing through it to its magician. A familiar can only use the magic its magician chooses to give it.

If a familiar were ever to survive the death of its magician, nothing would stop it from using the earth’s magic for itself. Of course, this is a purely hypothetical, impossible phenomenon. 

“A ghost such as myself can’t get a familiar, not like you have…” Covington mused. “You’ll get access to whatever profit my clubs produce,” Including the magic, of course, but Covington wanted to make her get a big head when she eventually figures that out. It would make things easier if he ever needed to knock her down a peg in the future. “on the condition that Monty becomes mine when you perish.” He doubted Esther had ever even heard of the legend of an unbound familiar. If she had, well, she had no reason to believe Covington had the means to sever the tie between a dying witch and her bird.

Esther scoffed. “Death will come for you before Lillith gives up on me. What do you really want?” Nobody in their right mind would trust such an obviously one-sided deal. Not even a vain, self-serving immortal such as Esther. 

“An IOU, then, if you insist.” Covington had set a trap with only a few words. If she took it back, she’d seem weak or afraid of what the warlock would ask of her. But if she insisted that wasn’t enough, trying to make sure it wasn’t a trap, she’d be insulting Covington and risk him adding something she couldn’t give him to the deal. “But he is still part of the deal, yes? I’ve always wanted a pet bird”

Of course she agreed to this, Covington would give her credit where it was due but she truly knew nothing about dealing with him. The IOU was only a decoy, he’d never need anything else from that useless witch. But it kept her from wondering why Monty was what he asked for in the first place.

Covington made sure to scratch the crows head on his way out. 

The bird barely reacted.

-Years Later-

Thomas felt the shift in the air instantly. “Caleb.” He smiled. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Covington was dressed to the nines like usual, Wasn’t quite his type, but Thomas could appreciate him nonetheless. “Can’t I just come visit an old friend? You haven’t been to my club as much recently.”

“Well, another ghost has caught my eye.” The cat king admitted. “But Esther’s got her paws on him, and only one of them is going to walk out. Honestly, I don’t know which party has the upper hand here.”

“And here I thought that was always you.”

“You flit.” Thomas purred. But his eyes glinted with distrust. “You aren’t just visiting, are you?”

“I came here to check on Esther, I wanted to see if our little deal would be coming to fruition anytime soon.”

“Then I guess we both have a reason to want her dead right now.”

“I suppose we do.” Covington was silently proud of himself for baiting her into taking power from his clubs all those years ago. It had always been a power play, an ace up his sleeve that had waited decades to finally be played. With nothing more than a click of his fingers, the power flow that Esther had long ago grown used to was cut off completely from her. It wouldn’t do much- he never let her take enough to hurt him- but it would throw her off just enough to give someone else the advantage.

-----

When Esther was dragged away by Lillith, Monty expected to follow her. As her familiar, he should have been destroyed with her. He always knew that was his fate. But death wasn’t what was coming for him. It was a different kind of magic. For a second, he feared it was Lilliths. But it wasn’t there to hurt him. In the mere fractions of a millisecond before her death caught up to Monty, this odd magic came to his rescue and severed the magic link before it could destroy him.

But with the severing, came darkness and silence, and there was no thud of his body hitting the floor for the detectives in the other room to have a chance of hearing. All they’d know, would be that there wasn’t a second body to bury. Not that there was only one soul to mourn, and even then…

-----

Monty woke up slowly to loud, energetic music. Something about Hollywood? It wasn’t worth paying attention to yet because the ambient magic in the air around him was buzzing. Esther never let this much magic run rampant,  but then again she was gone. Monty had to remember that. He stood and spread out his wings, flapped a few times too. Flying wasn’t entirely off the table, he wasn’t injured like he expected to be. But he was fatigued, and it was warm here- if a bit noisy. But the music was much more pleasant than the screams he’d hear in Esther’s house, so Monty didn’t mind.

He sat on the leather seat where he’d woken up for a few more minutes, listening to the music. But it ended, and a ghost warped into the room right in front of Monty’s eyes. A ghost that Monty took a moment to realize he recognized him. And Esther had only ever let him interact with a select few before… Monty might’ve been a bit slow at the time, but he never truly forgets a face or name of someone he knows.

Covington looked at him with a smile as Monty squawked rapidly in surprise. “Oh, I can’t understand you like this. Why don’t we…” He blew a kiss at the crow and Monty found himself human again. Caleb seemed pleasantly surprised, he’d never excelled at biological transformations, and so he had to assume this wasn’t his work. “I see Esther gave you a body of your own.”

“Not that I asked for it.” Monty mumbled. He still hated her for giving him human emotions. It had been nothing but heartbreak- sadness, anger,- ever since. “Sorry, Mr. Covington. Sir. I… thought I was supposed to vanish with Esther. Did she-?” Was this fear? Worry? Shouldn't he have felt hopeful or happy? If he was still alive…

“No.” Covington put on a look of sympathy. ”She didn’t survive. But she and I made a deal years ago that if she ever perished, you would come to me. And it seems that deal had enough power to bring you right to me.”

“Why would she do that? Why would you do that?” It was almost definitely not for Monty’s benefit. Panic- maybe just fear? What was the difference?- was starting to settle in. Was Covington going to treat him the same way that She did?

“Montague.” His name- was that even his name? Wasn’t it just Monty? He couldn't remember that far back.- caught him off guard. “A ghost like myself, magician or not, cannot acquire a familiar through normal means. Every chance I’ve had to get one I’ve tried to take. Esther’s passing is a horrible thing, but it has brought you to me and that is a wonderful thing.”

“Now, there might not be any spell that will bind you to me the same way you were bound to her, but I do hope you’ll stay with me. I have my dancers, but alas they’re not the same as having a familiar.” Covington’s hands were suddenly firmly on Monty’s shoulders. The touch further grounded? Him. Grounding was supposed to be comforting, right? So this feeling of being trapped was wrong. Must be the bird instincts carrying over. “It’s not the same as having a family, Montague. The one thing my magic cannot bring me, and yet here you are. But you do have a choice.” Surely he wanted an answer instantly, Esther would have.

“I…” Monty's eyes felt wet. Tears..? Fuck these human emotions. He wasn’t even sure what he was feeling- it was all just so much. “I don’t know yet.”

Covington didn’t seem surprised at that response. He was fine without a yes or no right now. “Why don’t you see if you like being human? Stay at the club for a bit.”He suggested. ”If you’d like a job, I could give you a simple one.”

A job. That’s what Monty was used to. That didn’t need emotions. A tension in his chest that he hadn’t noticed was suddenly gone. “That would be great. Whatever you need.”

Covington seemed surprised for a second, maybe not expecting Monty to be so eager? “We’ll start you small. Just delivering dishes to the lifers after performances.” He smiled. “Maybe if you decide to stick around I can teach you the choreography.” Covington suggested as he summoned a new outfit and ID card out of thin air and offered them to Monty.

Monty would pay more attention to his appearance later, but right then he was focused on the ID that he had just accepted. “Montague Finch-Covington?”

“I hope it isn’t too much. You’re family now, let me show you off just a bit.” 

Was this what familial love was supposed to be? Monty felt… warm. And that feeling didn’t fade when the music started up again and Covington had to excuse himself to go entertain his guests.

Monty looked at the card. A black feather border decorated a picture he definitely never posed for. Some kind of illusion magic, probably. Covington was powerful, a little illusion printed onto a card wouldn’t have been that hard.  Would it have been difficult for Esther? She never cared much for illusions except for her own cosmetics.

Maybe Monty should compare them less. Covington was an improvement in any way he could think of at the moment.

He might not have decided on being human or crow yet, but Monty had decided that he would be sticking around in Hollywood. He was a Covington now, and as a familiar, he was meant to stay near his family.

-----

Caleb’s expectations for Montague’s ability to entertain were blown out of the water. No matter who the unbound familiar approached, with or without food or purpose,vthey all took to him like moths to a flame. Even the other workers, most of which had to be forced to stick around, were eating out of the palm of Montague’s hand after just a few exchanged words. As for his singing, well, crows might not be well known for their song but Montague was born to be a star. Even if the boy was still too shy to sing if he knew someone could hear him.

He was almost perfect. A little confidence boost here, some etiquette teachings there… But Montague’s biggest flaw was that he didn’t yet know how to use his nigh unlimited magical power. Admittedly it was just legend that unbound familiars were the among the strongest beings in existence, a story that Caleb had never had the chance to prove before, but Montague definitely felt as though he had quite a lot of magic built up in that sometimes feathery form.

Caleb warped just outside the room he had offered Montague. He rapped his knuckles against the door and waited only a second for a response.

“Come in!”

“Montague…” Caleb trailed off. The boy was sitting on the bed, in an absolute mess of blankets that had previously been neatly tucked in.

“Please, just call me Monty. I don’t even remember if Esther gave me that long of a name.” Montague was adjusting the blankets in a manner that just made them seem more messy to Caleb but he was very intent on moving them around in such a way. “So what did you want?” 

Montague still wasn’t facing him, which gave him a clear view of the boy’s back which was tensing with anxiety. An emotion Caleb both wanted to eradicate and take advantage of. “I came to ask how you felt today? I worried sending you right to work would be too much but it seems I underestimated your abilities.”

Montague sighed. No reason to lie, really. “I… All these human emotions are still new to me. I’ve been fully awakened for maybe a month now?” He laughed nervously. “Working is about the only thing I think I can do right now.”

“Esther hadn’t awakened you?” No wonder he was so innocent. Still, there was some darkness behind those ever-sparkling eyes. “Did she not have the power?” Caleb traded a secret method of filter feeding power specifically so he could acquire a powerful familiar.

“She did. Just wouldn’t waste it on me until I would actually be useful.” The mess of blankets finally seemed to be to Montague’s liking and he turned around to face Caleb. “Even then, she practically killed me like two weeks later when I failed.” Caleb’s eyes went dark with distaste and Monty’s eyes went wide with implemented fear. “Sorry, sorry. You weren’t asking about-”

“Montague.” The familiar froze at his name. Or maybe it was just Caleb’s voice that had that effect. It commanded him, but not in the same way he was used to.. “Esther was vain, arrogant, and apparently much more of a fool than I had thought. The reason most lifer magicians have familiars is to bring them power and provide assistance but she ignored and hurt you?” Unless given a reason, even Caleb didn’t hurt his people. And he never ignored them, even if they sometimes wished he would. “You’re safe here. And if you’d like to be given jobs then I’ll find work for you.”

It was becoming evident to Caleb that Montague wasn’t going to be all that troublesome. Kindness was more than enough to both terrify and enrapture the boy. Something- maybe beyond Esther- had hurt him enough that he wouldn’t go off chasing silly emotions like love or pity. This wouldn’t be a repeat of William, in fact Montague was already more than that freedom chasing fool would ever be.

Caleb could tell Montague had something to say so he waited until the boy was ready to speak. “I thought familiars were just… animals. For so long. I-I still can’t see why you wanted one. Much less… me.”

“I can see you were never informed of your own power.” He clicked his tongue in disappointment, not exactly at Montague but he wanted to see the reaction. It terrified the boy. “A familiar is not just an animal. Magicians throughout the ages have taken pride in their familiars because of their abilities.”

“What abilities?” Montague scoffed. “I can’t do anything without Esther, or I guess you.”

“But you can, Esther simply failed to show you what you can do.” Caleb smiled. “All the magic I can do and more, that is what you are capable of. And I will teach you everything I know.” he promised.

Monty’s eyes flickered a gorgeous deep indigo just at the thought of doing magic. A testament to how much power he held. “When can we start?”

[rozecrest]

i played slay the princess for the first time yesterday! it was really cool!! i have covid so i was like i need to make this day memorable for a different reason and distract myself so i'll finally play this game (similar reason i started reading dunmeshi -- but that was just a scare)... gonna talk about my full run under da cut this post got long. spoilers, of course

okay so i knew a little about this game in that i saw a few screenshots of the princess looking Different so i knew she changed but i didn't know anything about then narrator or the voices or the vessel (that's what i took to calling our handsful growing god we brought gifts to. i think it's a fitting name thematically if technically incorrect) or the looping game mechanics which i'm glad of!

run-through of the main actions i took

first loop: questioned the narrator intensely, did not take the knife, chose to keep course of saving the princess after she lightly threatened me for dithering about it, the narrator took control of my body and i warned and resisted until she killed me. i meet the damsel and the voice of the smitten, argued with the narrator, slipped the princess' hand from her chain and asked her what she wanted over and over until her drawing simplified enough that it seemed painful so i let it go, we left together and she was taken... and i met the vessel for the first time

second loop: i shirk the call and refuse to go to the cabin just to see what will happen. there are infinite fractal cabin. the world ends. the stranger begins! i meet the voice of the contrarian and take the harsh stairs and have the worst icy trip of my life. i talk to the stranger until she shatters and shatters and shatters and i have no choice but to slay her/save her/every option until she combines into a three-bodies-joined princess, and the vessel takes her

vessel interlude of note: speaking to Her this time i felt confident that i ccould kind of do whatever and not ruin things, and find my way back to Her. i decided to choose to slay the princess. i wanted to see what would happen

third loop: the princess is quite rude this time, which makes the choice easier. i play at deciding whether i should rescue her for a bit, and the strike. we fight. we both die. do you really think this is the end? i wake up and meet the adversary. don't take the blade and i refuse to fight. it causes her agony. she kills me. she becomes the fury. i believe i gshe kills me awfully and says it will be forever. the vessel takes her anyway

having the time of my life on priv btw

fourth loop: i speak to her for a while, and am unsure what path to take, so i leave, and push the table up against the door, and go to sleep. the princess comes to me anyway. i die of fright. she says she will not forget. i wake up to the nightmare. i believe this is where i meet my favorite voice, the voice of the paranoid (the voice of the hero is narrowly second to him in my ranking). absolutely love him chanting your organs into function, it creates such a good rhythm and tension to the moments. the nightmare and i get all the way to the cabin door and i kill her. on impulse, and because it felt like at the time that violence had been my least utilized path. she takes me with her. i am falling, falling, falling. i choose to throw away the knife. i die terribly.

i reach a third chapter for the first time! the wraith :)

i love how fucked up the road looks. and this is maybe my favorire cabin entrance..

she breaks my ankle, i let her possess me, she walks me out to her freedom, she is taken.

fifth loop: i don't remember how, but i reach chapter two: the witch. (on second thought: i think i had an almost identical run to the very first meeting. i am taken over again, but i cannot resist. i am killed) my utena senses immediately start tingling even harder, and this was correct to happen. and for the life of me, i cannot remember what i did here! and don't feel like checking history.. i think i gave her the knife? because in the next chapter, the thorn, she already has it. and i did not kill her.

i made her trust me, and i did not break it. as a lesbian, this chapter was emotionally manipulative. of course i was going to save her. of course i wanted her to trust me, and keep it. her being taken made me terribly terribly sad, she was ready for a future, gone now.

i went to the mirror. the narrator took me instead. i've grown to resent him by now, how he spins the princess and the player against each other over and over, encouraging my worst violences. i had told the vessel once that when i found him i would kill him. my desperate want for answers got in the way. and he was dying anyway. i asked them until he was ready to shatter on his own. i told him the truth: that i was still deciding what to do, and i wanted a hand in that choice to be hers.

endgame! fuck!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

i rejected godhood. i spoke to all the gifts i had given, which was really cool and affecting, loved that. i found the hero, and we went to her heart.

i was VERY indecisive. i wasn't sure what could get me what i wanted, which was of course a breaking of the cycle, a forging of something new, walking to the outside world lesbianly etc etc. on my first go of the cabin at the heart of the princess, i took the knife. i chose to because i felt more often than not i had chosen not to take it. i felt validated when the hero said it was wise, that it tended to give us more options than it didn't. considering who he was, i shouldn't have listened LOL

first: i chose to kill her. i hated the choice, but i wanted to see what would happen. i became a god and saved the nameless world and broke from the constructs. my voices came back, pissed, and decided to beat me with hammers forever, lol

i reloaded a save for a very first time. second: i chose her option. i was on a path to the cabin in the woods. i had a job to do. credits roll. MISERABLE ! deeply fun that it's an option, but miserable.

i mulled on what i could do to change things for a bit. i had been saving often throughout, at places of interest or nexuses of change, so i had plenty of options. it came to me like a bolt. of course! don't take the knife!

third: we left together. utena ass ending. we can always build new roads ! i am sentimental and was deeply invested in the princess' freedom and happiness and possibility fo life outside this violent cycle we were bound in, so i was happy to tell her i loved her, open the door together, and leave, close the game, and let that world be final. for now :)

last thoughts: i really enjoyed that. i'm always saying i need to play more visual novels and i really really do they rule they rule! the art in this was so cool! the voices were so creative! i liked the writing style a bunch! i loved how settings shifted. i loved how branching it felt, like there was always something new to try. always enjoy when a game just closes on you and greets you again when you open in like the vessel did that one time. good game !

things i want to go back in my saves and try at some point

becoming Gods and letting the world fall away with her

breaking the narrator before He can die on his own

breaking my body in a meeting with the vessel

killing the vessel before She has collected enough selves

and also trying to find more of the princesses i missed!

scrolling through achievements i didn't get also (i got 24/97) and i saw you can kiss her. i bet its fucked up. i would like to see it

[jones-friend]

How to Horde

Horde Decks, or PvE EDH, is something I’ve had a good time playing with and I wanted to share my notes here!

The idea behind horde is 2+ survivors with a shared life total are battling against a horde deck, where all damage dealt to the horde mills that many cards from the top of the horde. The horde is allowed one or more reveals each turn. Consisting of token and nontoken cards, the horde reveals cards from the top of the deck until a nontoken card is revealed. That card is cast with infinite mana and all revealed tokens enter play. The horde’s creatures have haste and must attack every turn. Players win if they reduce the horde deck to 0!

Building the Horde

Start with a theme. Theme is the most important part of the deck. Horde mode arose during the zombie craze of the late 00’s. Traditionally a horde deck is 60 token cards and 40 nontoken cards with tokens at 2/2 with a few stronger 5/5 thrown in. Flavor is king when it comes to horde, so the first thing you’ll want to do is pick a theme that has a broad base of tokens. Phyrexian invasions, zombie hordes, onslaughts of beasts, killer robots, legions of soldiers, theres a lot of fun unifying themes to pick from.

The traditional horde token has 2 power 2 toughness, so if you use higher power tokens like 3/3 beasts consider adding more nontoken cards. You can make the horde harder with less nontoken cards (more tokens per reveal) or easier with more nontoken cards (less tokens per reveal). I like to find a diverse base of tokens with varying power and/or keywords, but I recommend to make at least 30 cards (half your token base) the same token.

Building a horde deck is a fascinating exercise bc mana cost and rarity are entirely irrelevant. Cards that are normally considered weak can blow out the game and cause a sudden and unhappy loss.

Preventing your opponents from blocking for a full turn can be devastating. When building a horde you aren’t looking for complex card interaction like you would with a deck. You’re looking to build a series of challenges for the survivors to overcome. Much more like dm’ing a game of EDH than trying to win it.

When packing removal be sure to “game-ify” the removal. For example I would play Ravnica at War in a horde with multicolor permanents at stake so the boardwipe impacts the horde as well, but a monocolor EDH deck could slip by. Board wipes can help even out a horde out of control or set the players back a few paces. Try to stay away from flat out boardwipes, try to give some kind of choice or interaction with it from the survivor’s side. You also want to avoid removal that forces the horde to make a choice. Tribute to the Wild is a great card for Horde impacting the survivors and taking off an artifact/enchant per player. If the horde does make a choice it should do so randomly, without affecting its own permanents if possible.

You should also be aware of how the rules work for direct damage on survivors. They share a life total, but are counted as individual opponents for the sake of direct damage. For example Red Dragon will deal 4 damage to the survivors per survivor. Even though its an uncommon it can deal 8-16 damage just by entering the field. Crackling Doom deals 2 damage to the survivors per survivor and they each have to make a sacrifice.

You can also add cards that help the survivors. Whenever the horde draws a card they are allowed to play it during the pre combat main phase. While Vision Skeins lets the horde draw and play two more cards that turn each survivor draws 2. Shah hits for 6 trample damage BUT if survivors let it stay out they’ll each draw 3 making more of a game out of this reveal. Enslaved Horror lets each survivor recur a creature.

Be VERY wary of letting the horde steal, and do so carefully. The horde’s infinite mana can break the game and this often makes the horde makes choices which we want to avoid doing. For example Intellect Devourer lets the horde steal and play from hands but only whatever the players give it. To me this is reasonable. So if players give the horde a comet storm it will multitarget everything for infinite damage and the game will end. Speaking of, also be wary of X cost cards. The horde has infinite mana and will cast for the highest value of X. So Comet Storm is a bad add because it ends the game when revealed.

Playing the Horde

The horde is designed to play autonomously, so the player piloting the horde should be able to also play. I give the survivors 30 life +10 per player, though other people do 20 life per player. Decks that play more traditional mtg using combat to deal damage and win are ideal as some archetypes get messy with the format. If anyone plays mill I recommend on cards like Mind Grind that mill for lands to mill until a nontoken card is revealed instead of a land. If Poison is in the game I recommend milling a number of cards whenever the poison threshold is reached (anywhere 20-50 cards or half of whats left).

In EDH players will gain momentum the longer the game goes on and eventually will begin to overtake the horde. I recommend adding another reveal each time a damage threshold is met. I prefer to add a second reveal whenever the survivors deal 20+ damage to the horde deck and this has worked nicely. You can also do 15/30, two reveals after 15+ damage and three reveals after 30+ damage. This usually matches the power of the survivors and keeps the challenge going.

Adding Goodies

You may be tempted to add extra goodies like Background enchantments or war chests that give bonuses during the game. If you decide to make sure the horde works as intended first. Once you have the horde going then start adding extras. Its up to you how to award them. One angle I recommend is adding a flavorful emblem that causes each horde reveal. For example in a phyrexian invasion horde you could have Breach emblems that read “the horde reveals a nontoken card”. And each time a condition is met add another breach token adding another reveal making the game harder. You can also add emblems related to major characters for flavor. In a phyrexian invasion where incubator tokens are used you could make an Atraxa emblem that reads “at the end of your turn proliferate all permanents you control”.

And that’s my guide to horde! Pick a theme, 60 tokens, 40 nontokens, and go nuts with it. Remember this is for fun, you aren’t trying to murderize the survivors, and really lean into the flavor of your horde. If you’ve made any or will make one I’d love to see it!

[capricorn-the-goat]

As a mage, you were never into the flashy stuff. It wasn’t like you could pull it off, either. Your reserves were massive, more than double that of your peers. But it turned out that your condition caused seizures whenever using higher level spells. And besides that, it wasn’t like you could output a crazy amount of lower level magic at once either.

but where you struggled in some aspects, in others you thrived. You quickly learned your “refresh limit”, a magical principal which determines how fast it takes you to recover mana. You set this limit, and learned how to overcome it- self-enchantments. Magic placed around yourself, acting as an enchantment but centering around yourself and not a preset object. With your refresh limit, as long as you stayed just below it, you could keep certain enchantments activated constantly.

your mentor, plus your other studies, had taught you something: magic wasn’t about war or combat, shifting reality, discovering secrets that no one needed to know. But it was about making life fun, easier, beautiful.

the first enchantment you made for yourself was a simple, slightly strange one: a cloak of leaves that would constantly form and reform from leaves around you. You lived in the autumn kingdoms, so the leaves were brilliant shades of orange and red, a cape billowing behind you.

the next few enchantments coated on you were just as trivial. The second was that, unless locked or magically protected, any nearby door would open if you stepped within 5 feet of it. The third? Your tea, drinks, food, whatever would constantly be the perfect temperature you wanted it to be. This was a little difficult to keep active constantly, but it was a simple detection spell that had an activation coded into it. The fourth? Leaves would part around your feet in tiny whirlwinds. The fifth, that lighting would always appear perfect around you.

it was always trivial things like that. As you aged, your “refresh rate” kept increasing with it. You made even more trivial enchantments around yourself, until any visitor who came to borrow ancient books and notes or to seek guidance would describe your home as an assortment of oddities. Your research into wards and if-then spells became revolutionary, even if you couldn’t maintain them yourself, and you became famous for it.

the day you died, you were experimenting with one more spell. It was a little harder to pull off, an attempt at updating the system you had relied on for so long, being the refresh rate enchantments. The spell you cast was simple, yet it would be effective: “If my enchantments need energy and I cannot or will not provide it, then draw energy from the surrounding world.” The intended target for the last line was everything. There was energy in everything- the sun, plants, animals, even the movement of wind and water. You theorized that, as long as it was contained, you could create infinite energy.

unfortunately, after you went to sleep that night, you died in your sleep of a heart attack. The next adventurers who came by found you, honored you and buried you, and set out on a quest to fulfill the terms of your will (who to give what to, certain businesses you needed fulfilled, etc.). They even followed one wish of yours, which was to empty the stores of food into the forest and let the wildlife feast.

When they returned though, the adventurers found something odd. Doors would open randomly. Food and drinks would remain certain temperatures forever, never warming or never cooling. Light would shine weirdly through windows. Swirling patches of leaves would appear and disappear. The strangest occurrence was when a cloak of leaves travelled across the estate. Researchers and magic users travelled from across the world to watch everything happen.

Eventually, upon reading your final journal entry about your self fulfilling spells, the secret was discovered. the self fulfilling enchantment should have disappeared with you, but because the logic and function of it was circular, all of the spells placed on your person were preserved after your death, even if the mind which made them had disappeared.

this opened up many more possibilities. It was realized that, because such a spell was centered on your being and not your body, then how was such a magic floating around as such? Your death, your research on self enchantments and the after effects of such a decision, would spark a whole new branch of magic and magical science focused around spirits, essence, and beings. Eventually, hundreds of years later, one curious magic user decided to paint your “ghost” using a spell which colored the energy it consisted of. The ghost couldn’t think or even process anything because it was pure energy, but it sure did appreciate the gesture

[lirhyapetitpain]

The events of Immortal Hulk depict a timeloop in which a desperate message from the end of all things reaches Sam and he takes that message to enact the events we see unfold, preventing the destruction of all.

Where do you feel Sam, who wanted to bring about this calamity, went wrong and ended up preventing the One Below All from claiming Banner?

Hah, that's a good question. I hope we'll now more about this, how did it reach Sam, of all the universe and time and people and infinite possibilities ? Is it because he was the only one who could prevent it or was it an accident ? Did he, somehow, was smart enough to intercept it himself ? Why did he want to bring a future where he's dead too considering the One Below All is the last entity remaining ? Did he even fail ? We don't know, the future he witnessed is so far away, TOBA/TOAA is still here so it can still happen, Immortal Hulk's ending is an open door (pun intended), it's not an ending and it left our characters with choices, all of them. Bruce is still wondering if he's going on the right path, Sam is no longer the Leader, they both can still pick a different path and it's up to other writers to write that and with all the references to Tamuz and Green Doors we get in Phillip Kennedy Johnson's run I really don't think the Green Door story is over, so far we can't really tell if that calamity was really prevented imo.

As for what Sam did wrong, as always his own arrogance, I guess he was bold enough to think he could trick TOBA itself and kinda become it and get its power, as he called himself a God (of hate) which TOBA is. And he did become that but not as intended, he was the puppet and not the puppeteer, TOBA's mask, possessed like a simple tool. Sam is connected to Bruce, they share a destiny and it seems TOBA needs both of them, something Sam failed to see 'cause he thought Bruce was the one and only missing link for the gamma flow or whatever when it was apparently him. They both have a part to play in this future and if anything so far Sam totally served TOBA's goal. After all Sam could manipulate the Green Door way easier than Brian and I don't think it's because he's smarter, Sam was always able to possess Gamma irradiated (Omnibus) and always able to create connexion with them (Rick, Bruce), he just never realized he could, it was an "accident" each time, even if when he reached Bruce he says that "somehow, through some door" (so Bruce's door) he was able to reach him. Sam always had access to it (and he's not the only one, I don't know if you ever read Al Ewing's first Defender run with Red Harpy but you should). Same for the shapeshifting, Sam had a shit tons of transformations already and being able to shapeshift is just the natural evolution of his manipulative power and liar personality so to me everything he got through TOBA's power is just a better advanced controle over his own, not a new one. Sam is about hate and so is TOBA, Sam is a connexion, he's not the host it was planning to keep but the connexion between gamma and irradiated it needed to reach Bruce. Or at least that's how I see it. Just like how Jackie is the eyes and can see the truth (I'll develop that one day, the link between truth and gamma), Bruce the strength and destruction etc etc to me the main irradiated all have a specific role to play, kinda like a chest game. As such I would say Bruce is the King, the one needed piece, Sam the Queen, the one that can make every moves and will kinda create the path y'know (I should draw them all as chest pieces now that I think of it...), you get my point. And ironically through his own over confidence he understimated himself and his role in this calamity, leading (lol) him to his own demise.

Anyway, feel free to ask more about the lore even if it's unrelated to art ! It makes me very happy to talk about that and feel free to agree or disagree, my answer is mostly interpretation, as I said Immortal Hulk ending is an open door and it left us free to have our own interpretation and that's something I really love about this story, while it gives us a real story with a beginning and an ending, we are free to have our own vision. Hulk forgiving Sam was a perfect exemple of this with Savage being for forgivness, Jackie being against it and refusing to forgive him and Joe being like "heh idk I guess that depends on what he'll do next" so you could relate to yes, no, maybe. And I think having a story ending with such endless possibilities is great so I really don't mind earing your own version of it, you or anyone else. That's why when I commission an artist to draw Sam I let them free, I don't want them to draw MY interpretation, I want them to draw THEIRS, I love sharing headcanon and theories with people. In fact the way I see Sam (and Hulk's lore) changed so much through people's own interpretation, it's truly fascinating and it's what a fandom should be about, sharing. Oh it doesn't mean you have to agree and adopt these headcanons, far from it, but other people's headcanons won't prevent you from having your own different ones and listening to others can bring very good point you didn't necessarly think about. As much as I love Sam and as much as I know everything about him, comics lore is way too inconsistant to have only one truth and one vision about a character.

[niuttuc]

New “budget” Commander cards: Lord of the Rings: Blue

You know these by now, we'll go color by color, mixing main set and commander set. Reprints can be included if they brought the price down under our bar. All the cards presented here are under $2 at time of writing. Cards will be evaluated as part of the 99, even legendary creatures.

Cantrips are neat, and always useful somewhere. Birthday escape giving you a bit of evasion for one mana will make it playable somewhere, and Borne Upon a Wind allowing to flash in not only sorceries or creatures but enchantments along with cantripping means it'll likely be a decent cantrip in a few decks. Nothing groundbreaking here however.

The one mana landcyclers this set are in general very good. A lot of their power comes from the fact they can fetch typed nonbasics, which these days is a huge upside even on a budget. This is a better, instant-speed Lay of the Land that in the late game turns into a bad harmonize, which is perfectly serviceable to refill a hand. Just make sure to include a couple typed duals in your deck, or if you have access to them, triomes, in your deck.

Not all decks will want Ioreth, but any deck that wants untappers will, she's a very good blocker to boot. The floor on her is ramp, as she can untap lands (double ramp if you got a bounceland laying around), and untapping two legends makes it easier than usual for an untapper to go infinite. Oh, and she doesn't have to target your own stuff, so you can make deals.

It's worse than a Castle Vantress because of all the conditions, but hey, every deck in commander should have a legendary creature on hand, and scrying never hurt anyone. With that said, I would only play this as one of my utility lands in mono-blue, the upside is just not big enough for me to play it in any deck with more colors (unless I'm specifically scry-themed, like Eligeth or Galadriel).

Usual spiel about loving sagas. This one doesn't do anything flashy, but for three mana, it does a lot of work, grabbing you a sol ring or a pair of boots for a couple turns, and drawing you at least a couple cards, while also toning down the aggression a bit. It'll be decent in any deck, though not very exciting in most, and sometimes the board will get wiped before the last chapter and you'll cry.

However, if you can manipulate counters to either keep it around forever (and keep stealing artifacts or drawing cards) and possibly also proliferate those stun counters repeatedly, it becomes pretty exciting, it's a very versatile saga to toy around with in those decks because it does a bit of everything and is pretty cheap to deploy.

And we close things off with Goldberry, who's... Alright, I mostly included her because I like this kind of design on legends, most decks won't want her, but for those decks built around counter shenanigans, she's a great enabler as a two-drop. Also the art is gorgeous!

[councilblr-voting-rights]

No1 Councilblr Weirdo Bracket (BEHIND THE SCENES)

First things first, I should note that ALL NOMINEES were included in the bracket. I only excluded TWO users for not having obvious ties to Councilblr. And when I spotted "the whole t4tnavyseal hivemind" I thought it would be funny, FOR THE BIT, to let in every hivemind member I could track down and include them in the bracket (which does mean there were contestants with no nominations).

This lead to a strange number of contestants, so I myself nominated rumiracle-whip and rubysparx to help even it out (one of them is an understated weirdo and both of them are fans of Exandroth so I call that immediately weirdo-worthy).

With a full list of contestants I got to work on the bracket. Users colestyle and burning-sol got separated to help with the odd number of contestants and to avoid any large sweeps. The regular nominees and the hivemind were separated with two exceptions, who I picked just based on *shrugs*. Users with a higher number of nominations I attempted to spread out and everyone else was randomised. I also made some other personal choices for the hell of it. Basically, it was a system of executive choices and also just a luck of the draw.

That's about everything I have to say on the behind the scenes. Since I have experience now, hopefully the next bracket will be easier to run.

Anyways, here are ALL the responses (aside from a few ommissions). CONTENT WARNING: many of these nominations were certified NOT WEIRD and dare I say NORMAL <- next time I will NOT be nice and NOT include everyone because you all cannot be trusted.

21 - colestyle

"i mean. cmon. the gillion eggs post." "i think the gillion lays eggs post is a good reason" "Have you seen his blog???" "are you kidding me" "you know why" "egg post 💀" "do I even have to explain this one" "do you really need to ask that" "funny guy. something deeply wrong with him. fussy. eggs. etc etc etc. need I say more" "eggs" "yeah" "do you even have to ask" "gillion egg webweave" "do i need to?" "self explanatory <3" "eggposting." "obviously" "Fussy, titstrider Tuesday, that gillion egg post" "very strange and off putting" "have you seen !!!!"

8 - burning-sol

"The Everything /affectionate" "Eldritchstrings and general exandroth posting" "i mean ‘weirdo’ in such a kind and positive way here because but i think if the council were to be exposed to his blog they would take some kind of psychic damage from the pinned post alone" "Many reasons, including being the person that started the Morse hivemind clicks" "just look at them" "Because they're my friend, and we can't all possibly nominate Lukas Colestyle" "excessive exandroth and eldritchstrings posting (/pos)"

5 - misty-lilies

"niklaus simp" "they want to get destroyed in a poll" "niklaus apologist 100 emoji" "accidentally started the t4t navyseal hivemind" "my favourite moot who makes banger charcter analysis posts and also is a simp for niklaus hendrix"

5 - navysealt4t

"^_^ get freaky wit it!! am a lil navyseal lover <3" "navyseal and t4t, they are cool and my mutual <3" "1 out of the 2 og t4tnavysealers…." "Them and t4tnavyseal started the t4t navyseal hivemind" "he literally WROTE an entire song for jay based on the idea of a musical. also she's my favorite mutual. so. i must be biased"

4 - willotstreet

"absolute killer.Murderer. SOMEHOW being able to rolan deep post so much im astounded. Thumbs up" "crazy insane rolan deep guy /pos" "honest;y whatever that guys got going on is infinitely funnier than anything else. i log onto this webbed site, watch ren post about their breakdown, then watch them post about how rolan deep is their wife."

3 - jadejemdoesstuff

"Scrimbles" "Hits post limit Way too frequently to be normal" "scrunkly"

3 - nickyclose

"First of all,had the SCUcondi username which was iconic,they are the ceo of Ashe winters and are my friend :}" "SAYS SO MUCH IN THEIR POSTS.SO MANY IDEAS. SOMEHOW. never runs out. Freak behavior. IDEAL !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! slash pos" "constantly brainrotting about npcs"

3 - spacedustmantis

"they r cool and understand gillion tidestrider" "really into plays that's kinda not normal right" "eel boy tidestrider"

2 - sp4rk-p1ug

"if he doesnt get in im blowing this whole fucking website up and deleting the cringe comp and the councilblr discord server and my blog" "i’m colestyles boyfriend"

2 - the-albatross-sails

"british representation" "called old man earl a top, british, just look at my pfp and that's all the evidence you need"

2 - dracolunae / pretzel-the-frogtopus

"No one can run that many update blogs and be considered an average blog /aff" "Beasty beastly beast best beast ORANGE Also they run like all of the update accounts All of them"

2 - alkalineleak

"1. i watched hymn liveblog making the undersea headcanon doc on discord 2. beloved jrwi riptide mutual" "big naturals"

1 - fiveminuterice

"omegaverse post"

1 - atlix2

"he's gotten a litle too silly"

1 - unwitnessprotection

"sorry for shipping william wisp and william wight. ok. sorry. god itd be so funny though. sorry also for contemplating shipping william with the wisp illusion of him. i havent gone to confession in years i could keep going"

1 - xaeyrnofnbe

"I think they are very nice :)"

1 - twinkfromconvergence / maybewren

"im their friend an i think it would be funny"

1 - viewfinder-chernobyl

"They wanted to be nominated"

1 - t4tnavyseal

"they have a cool blog :3"

1 - grrsalot

"freak (aff)"

1 - tragicfaggots

"they are silly :3"

1 - thanatosyaoi

"technically this is discord interactions based rather than blog based but. uhhh. yknow lets just go with “you had to be there” i dont need to disclose what happens in boo’s insane room"

1 - apple-the-bluebird

"You said we could nominate ourselves. Also. The year of the yaoi thing and having multiple posts on the cringe comp"

1 - chaos-caverns

"rand"

1 - seraphex

"Vibes"

1 - verdellium

"as a good friend of rosemarys heres my list on why she is weird and insane: - sent me a video of her doing an "autism jig" (intense stimming) over gillions i hate you speech - sent me a video of wym crying at 1 am over the bitb finale. unnerving and weird to wake up to at 6 am and see that video. - has a 1000 word note in her notes app about how one of his pieces in band perfectly fits albatrio. refuses to share it with me. - wrote like. 200 words to his mutual about band and jrwi. - in her drafts, there is a post that says "gillion is an exmormon. i said it." i dont know where this came from.

1 - tranny-tidestriders

"they reblogged the charlie twerking GIF about 15 times in a row. and he has autistic tboy swag"

1 - enderspawn 1 - fragilecqpricorn 1 - goatmanwithstrawberrytea 1 - asteraeliana 1 - everwizard

Someone simply submitted "ohmigoshiloveyou" and nothing else. The user "firefox-official" was nominated with the note "must i explain" but I couldn't find any obvious ties to Councilblr so I didn't include them, "sadmushroomgoblin" was nominated with no comment and excluded for the same reason.

[byoldervine]

If you want some more instruction-based ideas, I’d start with practicing recognising unfair points of comparison and seeking out more reasonable ones; it baffles me how many writers compare their first draft to a finished book, which has been through an ungodly amount of edits and reviews already and as such is not a fair point of comparison

If you’re trying to learn from other books, you need to have a specific area in mind, such as learning from semantic fields or character voices or whatever else. And if you want to compare your first draft as a whole to other projects - which I personally wouldn’t recommend regardless as I feel it’s too zoomed out to really be all that productive - you should look into other first drafts

Another tip would be to practice in areas where your perfectionism often kicks in; getting more experience in that area can be super helpful when trying to overcome your fears of not being good enough. For me it would probably be describing settings, so I’d gather a bunch of images to try writing descriptions of, but depending on what the area in question is, your practice could look like anything

Though while on the subject of description, I’d also say that you shouldn’t be too hard on yourself when writing it; it’s infinitely easier to turn words into a mental image than it is to turn a mental image into words, and even the most skilful wordsmith will never manage to convey it exactly as they imagine. The reader will never know the true vision, but they’ll still conjure up beautiful versions themselves. The only reason it sucks for you is because you feel like you’re not doing your own vision justice since you’re the only one who knows what it’s ‘supposed’ to be

But all in all, it’s largely a matter of shifting your own perspective on yourself and the purpose of a first draft. First drafts are still part of the plotting stage, in my opinion, and are absolutely not a reflection on your skills as a writer. You wouldn’t call your construction a failure when all you’ve done is draw the blueprint, and that’s what first drafts are; a blueprint to lay the groundwork of the story and guide you towards a book. They’re not something that should be judged on a scale of good or bad, and viewing them that way is never going to be beneficial until you reach the editing stage. If you’re seeing a lot of things you want to fix up, that’s good! It means you’ll have an easy time knowing where to start when you begin editing! It really is supposed to be bad!

And if you still want to scrap something for a lack of utter perfection before it’s even done, it might be worth looking into yourself and figuring out where this is stemming from, because usually it isn’t just the writing alone that makes you feel that way. Writing and creating art is often a very personal experience and thus can bring out a lot of our insecurities, whether this is a fear of not being good enough, of being judged for our process rather than our progress, of trying to convey something that really means a lot to us while fearing potential rejection or backlash over something we value highly, etc etc. This is something I can’t give a real imperative statement over, so I’d encourage anyone struggling with perfectionism to do some insight of their own

Types Of Writer’s Block (And How To Fix Them)

1. High inspiration, low motivation. You have so many ideas to write, but you just don’t have the motivation to actually get them down, and even if you can make yourself start writing it you’ll often find yourself getting distracted or disengaged in favour of imagining everything playing out

Try just bullet pointing the ideas you have instead of writing them properly, especially if you won’t remember it afterwards if you don’t. At least you’ll have the ideas ready to use when you have the motivation later on

2. Low inspiration, high motivation. You’re all prepared, you’re so pumped to write, you open your document aaaaand… three hours later, that cursor is still blinking at the top of a blank page

RIP pantsers but this is where plotting wins out; refer back to your plans and figure out where to go from here. You can also use your bullet points from the last point if this is applicable

3. No inspiration, no motivation. You don’t have any ideas, you don’t feel like writing, all in all everything is just sucky when you think about it

Make a deal with yourself; usually when I’m feeling this way I can tell myself “Okay, just write anyway for ten minutes and after that, if you really want to stop, you can stop” and then once my ten minutes is up I’ve often found my flow. Just remember that, if you still don’t want to keep writing after your ten minutes is up, don’t keep writing anyway and break your deal - it’ll be harder to make deals with yourself in future if your brain knows you don’t honour them

4. Can’t bridge the gap. When you’re stuck on this one sentence/paragraph that you just don’t know how to progress through. Until you figure it out, productivity has slowed to a halt

Mark it up, bullet point what you want to happen here, then move on. A lot of people don’t know how to keep writing after skipping a part because they don’t know exactly what happened to lead up to this moment - but you have a general idea just like you do for everything else you’re writing, and that’s enough. Just keep it generic and know you can go back to edit later, at the same time as when you’re filling in the blank. It’ll give editing you a clear purpose, if nothing else

5. Perfectionism and self-doubt. You don’t think your writing is perfect first time, so you struggle to accept that it’s anything better than a total failure. Whether or not you’re aware of the fact that this is an unrealistic standard makes no difference

Perfection is stagnant. If you write the perfect story, which would require you to turn a good story into something objective rather than subjective, then after that you’d never write again, because nothing will ever meet that standard again. That or you would only ever write the same kind of stories over and over, never growing or developing as a writer. If you’re looking back on your writing and saying “This is so bad, I hate it”, that’s generally a good thing; it means you’ve grown and improved. Maybe your current writing isn’t bad, if just matched your skill level at the time, and since then you’re able to maintain a higher standard since you’ve learned more about your craft as time went on