#inventor's fair

[inventors-fair]

Trivia Tuesday: Just Plain Chaos

[ship-of-skitties]

[bergdg]

Analyzing Invention: Some Data for the Inventor's Fair 2023

As a way of introduction, the Inventor's Fair is a Magic: the Gathering card design contest blog here on Tumblr. Each week, a contest is announced and members of the community submit designs throughout the week meeting the design specifications. At the end of the week, a few winners and runner-ups are selected, with commentary given by a series of judges. It's a fun exercise in creativity, one that I have participated since November 2022.

This past week, I decided to go back and compile some data about the blog, from January 1st, 2023 to Dec 2nd, 2023. I got some general data and then did a dive into data on the winners and runners-up. I would have loved to look at data for all of the entrants (on average, 23 each contest), but that was just a little too much for the time I have.

If this all sounds interesting to you, continue reading past the line.

To start, let's look at that general data:

Image: Line graph showing the weekly totals for entrants and a rolling 3-week average.

To start off, there have been 48 contests thus far during the year, with 4 more potentially planned (yes, Dec 31st would be the posting date for one of the contests, so it is technically a 2023 contest).

In the above graph, I included a 3-week rolling average as a trendline: basically the average shown for a week is the average of that week with the two weeks preceding).

The highest participation happened from February to mid-May, which corresponds to the Spring Semester in the US school system (my area of experience).

The contest with the greatest number of entrants: Teamwork Makes the Dream Work, which started on April 16 and had 36 entrants.

The contest with the lowest number of entrants: Re:Vision, which was the most recent contest and had only 8 entrants.

Now let's dive into some of the stats around the winners and runners-up:

Image: Bar graph showing the entry counts for winners and runners-up.

There have been 50 unique entrants who have been either a winner or a runner-up so far this year. Many entrants have been part of the contests since the beginning of the year. The most recent entrant to have their first win/runner-up was @aethernalstars, in the Nov 12th contest Lost Caverns of Ixalan's Lost Vault.

The entrants with the highest numbers of wins/runners-up so far:

@spooky-bard: 22 total, with 16 wins

@izzet-always-r-versus-u: 16 total, with 10 wins

@nine-effing-hells: 15 total, with 7 wins

@hypexion: 14 total, with 5 wins

(tie) @deg99 and @bread-into-toast: 13 total, with 8 and 7 wins

Congrats to these entrants for some spectacular submissions!

So what makes a winning entry? Mostly the awesome creativity of the entrants, but here are some stats about the cards themselves that I found interesting.

Image: Bar graph showing the card types of cards that were submitted and were selected as a winner or runner-up

By far the most popular card type was creature (and this includes Artifact Creature and Enchantment Creature submissions). Granted, there were several contests asking for creatures, like Rebels and Dragons. But it is such an overwhelming favorite that I just had to call it out.

As a note on other, I lumped things like planes and phenomenon into a single group, just to keep things simple (since there weren't that many)

Image: Pie (donut) chart showing the colors that were part of the color identity of cards submitted and selected as a winner or runner-up

Here, there has not been any contests for making cards in a specific color. However, red is a clear favorite among entrants. This is a mix of mono-red and multi-color including red cards. Black, white and blue are all closely tied for the 2nd most popular card, with green being fifth amongst the colors. I included colorless, but that being a low count is to be expected as I looked at color identity instead of cost, so many land submissions were pulled into one of the color categories.

Image: Table of the mana value of cards submitted submitted and selected as a winner or runner-up

Here, we see that the most common mana value of cards was 3 - 84 cards total! 4 (with 60) and 2 (with 41) came in 2nd and 3rd.

Image: Pie (donut) chart showing the rarities of cards submitted and selected as a winner or runner-up

Entrants seem to really like submitting Rares (114 total) and Uncommons (92 total), as they made up almost 75% of all entries. The number for commons will get a small bump from a recent contest that is currently being judged: One for the Money, but nowhere near enough to dethrone the other two.

SO, if you were to submit a card, it seems like the best chance for a winning submission is a red/partially red creature that is rare/uncommon and has a mana value of 3/4. Looks like a Santa Clause card is up for the next few weeks ;)

Anyways, I hope you've enjoyed this nerdy dive into some of the data behind the @inventors-fair of 2023. Looking forward to what y'all come up with in the next few weeks!

[carolinanadeau]

I hate Elongated Muskrat for ruining the name "Tesla". I was going to do something cute and clever with it and in the context of historical fiction there's no issue at all, but I know some modern readers will see that and have a moment of "wait, like the...?" and it will completely ruin the tone and bring to mind things I never want you to associate with these characters

[gollumni]

One thing nobody tells you about any institution ever, is that all of them are held together by string and pipe cleaners and any possible analysis that doesn’t delve behind the scenes is just made up wholecloth to look as perfect and pristine and possible. Like I cannot overstate how everything you know about a group of people is a lie

[dimestoretajic]

Darksteel Resonator

Artifact Creature - Insect

2

0/1

Indestructible

I DON'T KNOW WHAT MANA TO PLAY, BUT IT'LL INCLUDE WHITE, T, Exile a creature card from a graveyard: CARDNAME gains all the abilities of the exiled creature card until end of turn. This ability can be activated only as a sorcery.

When CARDNAME dies or is exiled, return all cards exiled with CARDNAME to the graveyard.

-----

Hey, wanna see the card I meant to get set up for the @inventors-fair Card Contest for this week? No? DON'T CARE :D

If you're curious to my process, usually I'll come up with The One Idea I Like, and either write it out somewhere and get it to my actual computer (this was a draft I was gonna grab text from, because I forgot Inkpad was a thing) where I'll throw it into MSE and tweak the templating. Then I'll usually workshop it with one of my friends (s/o to @sparkyyoungupstart who's been a godsend lately with assistance), dig into Deviantart and/or Artstation for some art if it's appropriate (for this one I wouldn't; just "metal bug" wouldn't REALLY get the point across unless the artist had some unique take on the concept that got the abilities to come across). Then, I'll sub, and be stressing over whether or not I should resub with a tweaked version until I send it!

Hope that's illuminating!

[foxglves]

The funniest interpretation of Othello to me is "Iago is actually madly in love with Othello and that's why he did all of. That." its incredible that that's like...a legitimately common reading of it.

Like why are you as a man dedicating so much time to ruining that mans entire life? Sounds kind of homosexual to me tbh. Men will literally manipulate their friend into murdering his own wife instead of just admitting they want to have gay sex with him 😒

[little-red-rabbit]

Congrats on the winter circle ! (Inventors fair)

Aw thank you kindly Anon, it is very sweet of you to come congratulate me, I was quite chuffed with myself!

I love designing cards! Especially planeswalker cards for my mutual wonderful ocs, I'm always happy to take a crake at making new designs for them. The @inventors-fair has been a wonderful resource for improvising my mediocre card making skills.

It has also ben wonderful in getting me to write more often that in turn helps with my Agraphia.

I was also shocked when I was welcomed into the winners circle for the Four-Letter Word prompt. As the Fair tends to look for much more powerful and mechanically interesting cards, and I tend to me more timid with my card creations.

A good example of this is my submission for the Words of Power prompt.

My submissions for Brew created fire breathing potions that I felt where more in line with the power lever of the Clue, Treasure, Food and Blood tokens.

Where the winner was a sack outlet that lets you search up your combo pieces.

Please understand this is not me wining or complaining! I agree with the Fair's judges that Pitlord’s Banquet is a amazing card and disserved the win, and in fact it helped me improve my idea for Brew into a new mechanic for Floramore.

Floramore is a plane where the lines between flora and fauna is blurred, for one something passes away upon the plane their entire being is adsorbed and becomes apart of the plane itself. This anthropomorphization of nature has extended into the magic itself, leading to emption being a powerful component of spell craft itself.

The witches of Floramore are those that have learned how to tap into darker emotions and weave them into powerful curses.

A tapestry of misery woven from the hairs of a single family. Ingredients taken from each home, stewed in a pot until it and the village boils overs. The name of a unfaithful lover and their betrothed carved onto the back of a coin, tossed into a dry well upon the harvest moon, to insure their fields are always bare.

The brew mechanic shows how the witches uses trinkets (clues/treasures), ingredients (food/blood) as well as the potions they Brew in their witch craft.

It also creates with very interesting Sultai eggs playstyle....

Where as Hex show the witches' taking a little bit of everything, parts of creatures, objects of importance, the magic of the fay and even bits of the land itself to create their Hexcraft.

This creates more of a traditional aristocrats playstyle of the sultai witches.

I'm not sure so I would love to hear you feed back?

Oh one last thing!

The witch above is actually a very important figure on Floramore, as the Beldam is said to be the eldest of all the witches. Legends of this witch stretches back before ink was put to paper, past down from one wives tale to another. It is said that the smoke of her chimney snatchers children in the night, and that she sees threw the eyes of every crow of the wicker woods,

It is said she knows thing no one else on the plane knows for into the socket of her missing eyes flows the past, the present and the future.

It was she who reached out to Marcel in his darkest hour. She who lead him to her cabin deep with in the wicker wood. Who spent the long hours of the night teaching him the darker arts of magic. Knowing she had only taught him enough to fail. Scattering the bread crumbs along a path that would lead to his sparking.

[togenabi]

things I won't tell you

vinsmoke sanji (opla) x princess!reader

♡—the new royal chef doesn't seem to recognize you without your crown. who's going to tell him? . . . certainly not you.

word count♡— 7.3k (cries)

genre♡— fluff, royal chef x princess au

content notes♡— opla sanji, afab!reader is a princess, reader wears dresses, reader has siblings (oc's), sanji made me google fancy food, mentions of zeff, sanji gets jealous if you squint, no use of y/n, proofread (but only a little)

also on♡— ao3

author's note♡— this is detached from any canon, its basically just a big chunk of sanji fluff. please enjoy!

You've never really dreamed for yourself. You had always just let life fall into place around you.

The kingdom is prospering, entering a new age of commerce. Artists, craftsmen, and inventors sail seas just to be part of it.

Your sister Chrysanth is a wise queen, as you always knew she would be. She’s fair and just, always knowing what’s best for her people.

On the other hand, your brother August is Captain of the Royal Guard. He’s an excellent swordsman, who has yet to be beaten ever since he took command.

As for you, the youngest of the three, you have no idea what you’re doing.

The most likely outcome would be for you to be married off to settle some political arrangement. Unpleasant as it sounds, you would have agreed to it for the sake of the kingdom.

But the moment you said so, Chrysanth gave you a look unbecoming of a queen and immediately shut it down.

“Look,” She gestured to the view outside. “Does that seem like a kingdom who needs help to you? I work my butt off precisely so that we won’t have to depend on anyone else.”

“Besides,” She adds, “if anyone wants your hand, they should fight to the death for it.”

And so, for now, you work for your sister. Helping manage general affairs and the kingdom’s business agreements—even though she could easily hire someone else.

“I love that you insist on working,” Your brother told you once. “You could have been a socialite, but you’re here with us, serving the people.”

Of course you are. Because even though you didn’t necessarily plan it, you are proud and committed to your work. You’re happy with your own, mundane accomplishments.

Or at least that’s what you try to remember when you glance at the tall pile of documents on your desk. You’ll relish the satisfaction that will come when it’s gone.

The candle beside you burns low, flame becoming dimmer and dimmer as the hour grows late. You should probably replace that. Pulling open your drawer, your eyes scan its contents for a candle.

You’re fresh out of the tall ones that fit in the candleholder, but you have one sculpted like a cinnamon bun—a gift from August a few birthdays ago. It’s not exactly the best for illuminating your work, but something makes you strike a match and light it still.

It smells like freshly baked cinnamon rolls, you can’t help but inhale the decadent scent deeply.

The aroma triggers an embarrassing grumble from your stomach. You feel your ears burn despite the fact that no one else is around to have heard it. Perhaps a midnight snack is in order.

Unexpectedly, light seeps through the gap beneath the large wooden double doors to the kitchen. In all your years, you’ve never encountered anyone in the kitchen at two in the morning.

Normally, you wouldn’t want to disturb them. Knowing the chefs, they would likely fuss over you and put whatever they were doing on hold.

But you fear that your stomach will disagree with that, so you decide to knock and enter the kitchen anyway.

There’s only one chef inside—a tall, blond man with his back to you. You don’t think you recognize him. He must be one of the new hires.

When he hears your footsteps on the stone tiles, he turns around.

His expression, at first, is curious. But after a beat, his mouth curves into a charming grin that catches you completely off guard.

“Hello there, miss.” He nods in greeting, eyes alight with a look that no one usually dares when it comes to you.

“I’d be happy to fix up something for you if there’s anything you’re… craving.”

When you expected the chef to fuss over you, this isn’t what you meant.

Your first instinct is to look at his surroundings for alcohol. Perhaps he’s intoxicated and not in his right mind?

But the (sober) chef seems to have mistaken your silence for bashfulness, because he presses you further, “Trust me. I may be new around here, but I know my stuff.”

Unsure how to respond to his blatant (or insolent, your sister would say) behavior, you try to gently decline his offer.

“It’s alright,” You say, still uncertain about him. “I was only going to make a sandwich and be on my way.”

“Nonsense!” He insists. “If you’re hungry at this hour, it means you’ve been busy working too hard.”

He approaches the pantry, retrieving one too many things for a mere sandwich. Your concern grows when he grabs garlic, several leafy vegetables, and a lemon.

“You, my dear,” He points at you with, is that a cucumber? “—deserve a proper treat.”

You sigh, it looks like he doesn’t intend to back down. Maybe you should just let him do what he wants and see if he can back up all the talk. Pulling one of the chairs from beneath the kitchen island, you take a seat as you observe the flirtatious chef.

At least he seems to be enjoying himself. His hands work with the kind of precision that only comes from years of experience; and he smiles proudly when he sees you watching.

“I meant what I said, I’m a damn good cook.” He’s begun chopping the vegetables. “My name’s Sanji, by the way.”

The question now is whether or not you properly introduce yourself. It's difficult to deny that you enjoy his attention. The casual and relaxed manner he addresses you with is… a nice kind of different. When else are you going to experience that if you let this go?

Alright. For tonight, you're not a princess. You're someone who stumbled upon a chef—a handsome one, it dawns on you. This is a chance encounter in the palace kitchens. And, you glance over at the dressing and ingredients he prepared, why should you turn down good food?

You decide to only give him your name. It feels strange introducing yourself without your title, but you don't tell him that.

“It makes sense that your name is as captivating as you are.” Sanji's voice is smooth, easygoing as he moves around the kitchen.

Nothing about his demeanor changes. Either he really doesn't know anything about this country's royalty, or he's skillfully controlled his reaction and is hiding that he knows.

There's also a third possibility: that you look so haggard and tired that you simply do not appear royal anymore.

Subconsciously, you look at your typical office clothes… Maybe you should go on that fitting the royal stylist has been pestering you about.

On the topic of style, however, your companion has unusual attire for a chef. He’s wearing a buttoned shirt with a necktie. His black slacks match the suit jacket draped over one of the chairs.

Your attention is diverted when Sanji begins rolling up his sleeves. He juices the lemon he had sliced in half, arms flexing as he twists the fruit.

Clearing your throat, you ask him a question to distract yourself. “What are you making?”

He smiles as if he’s glad you asked. “A dish that suits a beauty like you, of course.”

Several minutes later, he presents you with a sandwich. The slices of bread are whole wheat; the layers of ingredients between them are all in varying shades of green.

“A green goddess sandwich, made with care for the goddess in front of me.” Sanji pushes the plate towards you. 

It's easy to stay composed despite the flattery because your hunger makes you focus on the food. “It really does look excellent.” You compliment earnestly.

He gestures to the plate before placing his hands in his pockets. “Tastes excellent too, try it.” Shaking your head at how confident he’s being, you pick up the sandwich.

It might just be the best sandwich you’ve ever had in your life. The flavors are fresh, and you catch the hints of lemon blending with the dressing. The bread is soft, contrasting with the crunch of the cucumbers and sprouts.

You're completely surprised, and it must be obvious based on how Sanji reacts. He lets out an adorable, pleased laugh that makes you want to hear it again.

“I knew you’d like it, ma chèrie.” Sanji reaches a hand towards your face. Your heart just about stops when he brushes his thumb to wipe at the corner of your mouth. His eyes look so intense, like you'll drown in them if you stare too much. 

It feels as if your face could burst into flames at any second, so you turn away to hide your flush.

As Sanji grabs you a glass of water, you ask him if he’s eaten. “I did, but it’s nice that you’re worried about me.” He answers. You almost choke on your drink.

Once you've finished your meal, you stand then grab your empty plate and glass. But Sanji mirrors you, blocking the way to the sink. Why must a chef have such broad shoulders?

He shakes his head, trying to get the dishes from you. “Can’t let you do that, love.”

“Why not?” You frown, pulling your arms back so he doesn’t reach them.

“It’s late. You shouldn’t be working any more—”

“But you’re allowed to?” You look up at him defiantly.

Sanji stares at you. You stare back. There's a few seconds of silence before you sprint the other way, running around the kitchen island to get to a different sink.

“Oh, no you don’t!” Sanji yells after you.

You’re almost there, but Sanji catches up to you easily. Before you know it, he’s blocking the way again and you curse, remembering his long legs.

“Sanji, let me do the dishes.” You plead, but he’s as stubborn as it gets.

“The knives I used need to be washed anyway, and I’m not about to let your pretty hands do that.” Sanji winks, and you give up. He pries the dishes from your hands.

Seeing your shoulders slump disappointedly, he offers you a compromise. “If you really want, you could throw the rubbish in the bin and wipe down the counters.” Okay, you can do that.

“Are you sure this is the only way I can repay you?” You ask, grabbing a washcloth to begin cleaning up.

“That’s plenty of help, my dear.” Sanji answers.

But after a moment, he seems to have gotten an idea. Your brows raise in curiosity as you question him, “What?”

“...I was just wondering,” He begins, looking at you with that flirtatious glint in his eye. “Since we had such a wonderful time tonight, would you be willing to join me again?”

“That depends,” You press your lips together to suppress the smile blooming on your lips. “Will you cook for me again?”

Sanji laughs, throwing his head back. “Darling, that’s a given.”

He gazes at you while he dries his hands. There’s a grin on his face as he asks, like he already knows your answer. He probably does. He’s probably right.

“Same time tomorrow?”

Even though you got back to your chambers at an ungodly hour in the morning, you woke up feeling the most refreshed you’ve ever been. There’s a spring in your step as you get ready for the day, and you pick clothes that are slightly more dressy than your usual attire. Sanji shouldn’t be able to notice that you dressed up for him, right?

But your sister does. 

Seated at the head of the table, Chrysanth stops eating to analyze your clothes the instant you show up to the dining hall for breakfast.

You could practically hear the gears in her head turning. Avoiding her gaze, you bow to greet her before taking your seat, “Good morning.”

The queen only smiles at you knowingly, eyes still flickering over you with enraptured excitement. Very much unlike a queen, however, she kicks your shin underneath the table.

“Ow!” You yelp.

“So…” She lets the syllable drag on. “Who’s the guy?”

You focus on piling food onto your plate, choosing to ignore her. “What guy?”

“Your guy.” She says, giddy. “Is he your guy yet?”

“Hm?” Is your only response. Breakfast looks lovely. Should you ask for coffee or tea today?

Chrysanth kicks you again.

“Hey!” You rub the skin to dull the pain. “Stop that!”

“Stop avoiding the question!” She persists, waving a hand to gesture at your clothes. “You only wear that skirt when you want to impress someone.”

Mentally cursing her for knowing you too well, you continue to act nonchalant.

“Really, it’s nothing.” You try to clarify. “I just thought that it would be a nice change.”

She doesn't believe it. Not one bit of it. Thankfully though, she drops the topic. Your shoulders relax as the discussion switches to work-related ones. She’s telling you about her plans to approve a restaurant in the museum when your brother joins you for breakfast.

Once he’s seated, August takes one look at you before tilting his head. “Who’s the guy?”

Chrysanth looks far too smug and triumphant than you’d like. You bury your face in your hands. Would Sanji also tease you if he knew?

The rest of the day is uneventful, the only change to your typical work day being that you avoid your siblings like the plague. You have lunch brought to your office and skip on dinner.

Sanji had already started cooking by the time you got to the kitchen. “I hope you don’t mind,” He says. Of course you don’t, whatever it is smells amazing. “I thought I’d start early so you wouldn’t have to wait too long.”

“Thank you for going through the trouble.” You say, glancing at the ingredients he had laid out: there are crushed tomatoes on the counter. Pasta simmers in a pot on the stove. You recognize the tubed shapes with ridges surrounding them.

“Rigatoni?” You ask, turning to the chef.

Sanji nods, “With a simple, creamy tomato sauce. Nothing too extravagant, but still specially made for you.” 

He puts the pasta into two bowls, grating parmesan cheese on top. Your mouth waters.

“Here you are, darling.” It pleases you more than you thought it would when Sanji sits across from you to eat as well.

There’s something homey and yet luscious about the taste. He really outdid himself. “It’s delicious, Sanji.”

“I live to please.” Sanji says before standing to retrieve two wine glasses and a bottle of red. “Zweigelt.” He says as he pours for you both. “Juicy and fresh, with just the right amount of acidity.”

You almost swoon at the rasp in his voice. You never realized someone could be so attractive when talking about wine.

As he clinks his glass with yours, you think to yourself that this might be your favorite dish from him. However, true to his word, he surpasses your expectations every time.

After a few weeks, on your sixth (or is it seventh?) time meeting Sanji past midnight, you've reached the point where you're able to open up to each other beyond the pleasantries that come with the food.

He tells you about his dream of traveling the seas in search for the best ingredients the world has to offer. You admit how you sometimes feel like life is just taking you along with the current—that you’ve never had a burning, passionate dream to aspire to.

“I don’t think that’s a bad thing,” Sanji hums contemplatively. “There aren’t any deadlines when it comes to finding dreams.”

“I do worry that you’re working yourself to the bone, though.” He adds, and for once, his smile looks different somehow. It’s a fond, gentle smile that’s sweeter than the macarons he made for you.

“What do you mean?” You take a sip of water.

“While I'm flattered you enjoy my food so well, do you eat properly? Shouldn't the palace be treating you better?” This time, you actually choke on your drink.

Could it get more embarrassing than this? Your ears burn as you cough, trying to clear your throat and settle your heart.

“Breathe, love." Sanji, ever the gentleman, is next to you in a flash of a second. He pats your back gently and supportively. “I'm sorry if I startled you.”

“It's alright—and, I do eat,” Your voice comes out raspy. “It's just that I don't usually have an appetite for dinner.”

“But that leaves you hungry for a midnight snack?” Sanji asks, a knowing expression on his face as he refills your glass.

“Exactly.” You smile. Thankfully, your throat has calmed down. Picking up a vanilla-flavored macaron, you savor the taste that melts sweetly on your tongue. Returning to his chair across from you, Sanji watches you eat happily. 

“I take pride in my desserts, but that chocolatier in Belltower street… The sweets are just—out of this world, I tell you.” He looks so excited as he talks, eyes aglow and gestures animated. “The chocolates are handmade and everything. I'm sure you've heard of it?”

“Um…” Hesitating, you certainly remember issuing a business permit for a chocolatier; but you can’t say you’ve gone there yourself.

Sanji’s eyes widen in disbelief. “Surely you’re pulling my leg. You haven’t been?”

“...”

He observes you quietly, like he's considering what to do next. There have been instances when Sanji stays quiet, doesn't eat, and only watches you chew. The times where he insists that he's content with seeing you eating well. Those were awkward at first, but you learned that was just part of spending time with him. Your reaction was a reward on its own.

But this isn't like that. Something feels oddly different in the way he seems to be gathering his composure. The silence almost worries you, but thankfully he breaks it first.

“You’ve saved me the trouble of thinking of a place to take you to.” Laughing, Sanji practically glows in elation. “You’ll love it, I promise.”

You had a peculiar sense that you would’ve loved going anywhere, as long as you were with him. 

Feeling bold, you suggest, “I’m free this Saturday if that’s good for you?”

He gives you that soft, enamoured look again. Something makes you hold your breath, your fingers tingle and the entire rest of the world slows down. You’re almost certain you’re giving him the same look.

“Even if I wasn’t, love, I would have gone to you anyway.”

The next day, a Thursday, your brother unexpectedly knocks on your office door.

“Hey,” You smile. “Is something wrong?” 

It’s rare for August to look for you in the middle of the day. If either of you need to speak, it’s usually you who heads into the training grounds to talk to him. The other way around occurring is curious.

“I wanted to invite you to watch the knights train this Saturday.” He says coolly. “It would boost their morale if you spoke a few words.”

The commander goes on to speak, not catching that you’ve short circuited somewhat, trying to rack your brain for a valid excuse to decline him.

“And maybe, you could pick out a personal knight like I’ve been telling you.” August prompts. “You really should—”

When he pauses, squinting his eyes at you suspiciously, you suddenly recall why you stopped trying to hide anything from him. 

“You already have plans.” He says, face carefully blank.

“Yes.” Thank goodness he understood. But wait, his eyes are widening. Why is he making that face? Why is he looking at you like he just figured out—

“You have a date.” Darn it all.

August is bewildered, not knowing what to do with the information he put together. He awkwardly brushes his fingers through his hair.

“...Is he a good guy, at least?” He settles with, asking carefully in that concerned way he does when he looks out for you.

Biting your lip, you nod. “He seems to be, so far.”

“Okay.” August responds. “Does Chrysanth know?”

“It’s nothing serious.” Yet. Yet? Do you want it to be? “You’re the first I’ve told.”

A worrying thought suddenly pops in your mind. Your turn to him, distressed. “Please don’t tell her yet, August.”

“Why?” His frown deepens, like he’s about to ask more questions. Unfortunately for him, you decide you’ve had enough talking about Sanji to your brother for today.

“Aren’t you busy?” You grab his arm, guiding him out of your office. “Don’t you have training to get to?”

“I do, but—why can't Chrysanth know?” You open the door for him and try to push him out, but August plants his feet; still trying to figure you out. He doesn’t budge an inch.

But then he makes that face again. That annoying ‘aha!’ face.

“You really need to go, good luck with training! Tell the knights I said hi—” You manage to shove him out with all your strength, but at the last second before you close the door, August turns around again.

“He’s a commoner, isn’t he?” You slam the door at his face. 

It doesn't matter. Sanji's status will never matter to you. Not when he's holding your hand so sweetly while he guides you through the winding streets of the city. You recognize some shops by name, knowing who owns what and when they established their business. But Sanji knows these streets, and he's more than happy to show you.

“Ah, one moment, my dear.” Sanji pulls you towards a quaint little cart overflowing with flowers. He flicks a coin to the vendor, eyes scanning all the vibrant colors and bursting petals. 

Somehow, without you needing to tell him, he picks one in your favorite color. You're starting to feel like that's just part of being with Sanji—that he knows what you want, and knows what you need before you do.

The flower is soon tucked into your hair, behind your ear. His fingers linger on the side of your face—and normally, you'd break eye contact and shy away. Maybe let out a halfhearted excuse that you should continue on your way. But you don't.

You smile back at him, not bothering to hide the genuine happiness you feel. And when Sanji pulls back, you're already holding out your hand before he reaches for it. There’s something in his eyes. Something that makes you feel like you're walking on air when he tugs you along again.

As planned, Sanji takes you to the chocolatier he told you about. The building is small, tucked between larger shops in the middle of a busy street, but there’s no doubting the quality of their confections.

The elderly chef behind the counter greets Sanji like a grandson she hasn’t seen in forever. She ushers him in, enthusiastically pointing to this and that, saying she moved some furniture around as he suggested.

“It looks perfect, grand-mère.” Sanji smiles, taking in the beautiful glass display. Chocolates of every flavor cover the shelves from end to end.

Grand-mère’s eyes light up when she sees you. She casts an approving look at Sanji, “I like this one. She might even be too good for you.”

“That’s because she is.” Sanji laughs, and you pretend to browse the menu while they talk.

“No need for that, ma chèrie.” The menu is plucked from your hands. Sanji sets it aside, pointing instead to where grand-mère is behind the counter. She's wrapping up a box of chocolates that she hands to you.

“No need to pay, dear.” She smiles, patting your hand. “If he ever gives you trouble, let me know.”

Sanji whisks you away through the streets again. You've never been this far into the city before. Looking back at the path you've taken and not recognizing any of it, you know you’d be absolutely lost without Sanji by your side.

“Almost there.” He tells you, pointing to a cobbled path that inclines upwards. 

What meets you at the top of the path is a small clearing. A stunning tree with blossoms on its branches stands at the center. Flowers and petals flutter away and fall onto the iron bench beneath it.

“Sanji, this is lovely...” You trail off, letting go of his hand to catch a flower into your palms. The flower twirls delicately between your fingers before you turn back to Sanji, tucking the blossom into the pocket of his suit.

Sanji takes your hand before you can pull away, bending down to press a kiss to your knuckles. 

“Not nearly as lovely as you.”

The two of you spent hours under that tree, sharing chocolates and stories—feeling like this is how things are supposed to be. Not necessarily the flowers, or the chocolates, or even the sun setting beautifully in so many warm colors.

Just Sanji. With you, next to you. 

All at once, it sinks in that he could be the dream you've been waiting for. But you don't tell him that.

Being enlightened on your feelings for Sanji becomes a second thought, however, when you’re swamped with work the following week.

“Don’t these people ever get tired?” Chrysanth groans, leaning back on her chair. “Why is planning a festival so hard?”

You approach her desk and place another stack of documents onto it. The numerous piles are getting concerning.

She scowls at the papers, then scowls at you. “Don’t you ever get tired?”

“Of course I do.” You tap a stack of documents to her left. “The guest list for the ball needs to be approved by tonight so we can send invitations out.” She groans again, but picks up the list anyway.

You’re unable to see Sanji as often as you’d like, but you both promised to meet once a week. Even if it’s only for a few short heartbeats together.

You dearly miss him. You think about him as you hand Chrysanth menu plans for the ball. If he saw it, he’d say that he could come up with something better.

She glances at the menu, studying it. Or at least, that’s what you thought she was doing—until her next words proved you wrong.

“So, how are you and that chef doing?”

Your heart isn’t in your chest anymore. It sank down, deep into the depths of the earth. It also must have taken all the air in the room along with it. How did she—

“August?” You blurt out.

Chrysanth shakes her head, “Zeff.” Oh no. Sanji’s boss knows? Does Sanji know that you’re—

“According to Zeff,” She proceeds, cutting off your thoughts. “One of his subordinates has been cooking a lot of personal meals over the last few weeks.”

“I can explain—” But your sister holds up a hand. Your mouth snaps shut.

She calls your name, and then you realize how serious her tone is. “Are you familiar with the kitchen’s rules when it comes to using ingredients and supplies for personal use?”

“...I’m afraid I'm not.” You didn’t know the kitchen had any such rules… but surely Sanji does. Your voice stutters, “I, did—is he in trouble?”

“He isn’t.” She answers, though her expression is still grave. “But I think that you should be aware of how much he’s doing for you.”

Chrysanth opens a drawer to retrieve a list of kitchen rules. Reading it over, everything is standard and straight to the point. You find the answer to your confusion towards the end, a small, nondescript bullet that reads:

All staff must reimburse the cost of all ingredients used for any reason outside of official duties.

“He must know who I am, then.” You say, feeling relieved that he didn’t break some sort of impossible rule. “He wouldn’t have done so much for me if he didn’t.”

Your sister purses her lips, letting the silence linger for a second before responding, “He doesn’t know, love.” She hands you another document. “He’s been paying back every cent out of pocket.”

Tracing over the timestamps and the different ingredients listed, you stare at an outline of your time with Sanji. It’s nice to reminisce, but you can’t help but wince whenever you spot something particularly pricey. What on earth are you to do with this man?

“Zeff recognized your name when he asked Sanji who he was cooking for.” Chrysanth explains. “He didn’t tell him, but he came to me and requested for Sanji to be repaid.”

“Since anything served to me counts as official duties of a royal chef.” You piece together. 

“Exactly.” Chrysanth nods. “However, doing that would expose your title to him. Which is why I wanted to speak to you about this first… You should tell him.”

“I know.” Letting out a deep sigh, you agree. Sanji deserves to know more than anything. Nevertheless, the thought of him changing how he treats you—or worse, leaving—because of your status, frightens you to your core. 

“I’ll talk to him tonight.” You say, but your sister’s expression slowly changes. What did she plan this time?

“Or maybe, you could put the kitchen dates on pause and tell him in a few weeks.” Surprisingly, she hands you an invitation to the ball.

“I can’t bring Sanji as my date.” No matter how much you wish you could.

“Are you sure about that?” Chrysanth is unable to contain her grin. “Open it!”

‘…you are cordially invited to the spring masquerade ball.’

You gasp, “You turned it into a masquerade?”

“Yes, I did. You won’t believe how much convincing it took for the ministers to agree.” She rolls her eyes, but then her smile returns. “Don’t waste my hard work and have fun with your man, littlest sister.”

You laugh, not expecting this outcome after all that. “I love you, even if you made me go through so much emotional turmoil for fun.” She cackles.

“Of course I had to make you sweat after what you put me through.” Chrysanth scoffs, “I can’t believe I had to hear about your love life from Zeff, of all people.”

“Ah,” She says, remembering something. “Speaking of, why’d you guess August first earlier?”

“...”

“...Did you tell him before me?” She gasps. “How could you! Give that invite back!”

“I didn’t think you’d approve.” You admit shyly. “He’s a commoner.”

“If he treats you well—which, he obviously does—I could care less about all that.” Chrysanth reaches for your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Only those stuck up ministers will react negatively, I’m sure. We can deal with them easily enough.”

When she lets you go, she abruptly adds, “He better be cute though.”

That sends you laughing again. “Oh, Chrysanth, he’s the cutest!”

He certainly is. Especially when he sees you and grins, opening his arms wide in expectation. You fall into his embrace when you’re near enough.

Sanji takes your hand and places it on his arm, leading you away from the kitchens.

“Some of the others are still in there planning for the ball.” He explains. “It seems preparations are keeping us both busy.”

Sanji takes you to the greenhouse, which you’ve never seen at night before. Various patches of vegetables and shrubs line the space. There are trees and flowers towards the back too. It feels like a secret hideout, being here with Sanji. 

“I miss spending more time with you, love.” He whispers.

“Me too.” Your heart melts thinking about how much he gave for you. You wish you had the courage to tell him the truth now, while he’s looking at you like you put up the stars in the sky, but you can’t. You’re not ready yet.

Reaching your hands up, you caress his face gently, brushing your thumb across his cheek. He places his hands over yours, keeping them there. 

Sanji closes his eyes to savor the moment, and you let him. You two stay like that, your hands becoming enveloped in so much of Sanji you feel like you could recognize him with your eyes closed, with a single touch.

There’s a certain familiarity to him at this point. You would probably have some difficulty adjusting back to life without him in it. He’s so familiar that you could probably draw him. He makes you want to try.

“...I was just wondering,” You say with a knowing glint in your eye. Does he remember those words when he said them to you that first night? “We’ve been working hard for this ball, wouldn’t it be a shame not to enjoy it together?”

You give him the invitation, and he throws his head back laughing. You send him a confused look, but it all becomes clear when he pulls out an identical invitation from his jacket.

“Ah, how brilliant you are, mamour.” Sanji embraces you again, and you bask in how perfect it feels to tuck your head into the curve of his neck.

“It will be easy to find you even with a mask.” You murmur into his skin. He shivers. “You’re so goddamn tall it’s not fair.”

“I’m not too worried about you finding you, either.” Sanji begins to sway slowly with you still in his arms. It makes your heart skip a beat. You can’t wait to dance with him.

“Are you confident you’ll find me first, then?” You ask, adjusting your hold around his middle to snuggle in better.

“I’m not sure about being first,” He ponders. “But I’ll be sure it’s you when I find you.”

The greenhouse became your new meeting place while the palace was buzzing to prepare for the ball. You could only meet for a few minutes, but you treasured the time you shared just the same. 

Once, Sanji tried to feed you one of the expensive fruits growing there, but you declined, making up an excuse that you were allergic. He had looked at you strangely, but didn’t press you further.

You couldn’t find the time to see Sanji the week of the ball at all. Your time was spent welcoming foreign dignitaries, discussing business and trade. You and your sister had a marvelous time shutting down a marriage proposal from some duke from the north.

It amazes you how much you’ve changed since meeting Sanji. Had the duke asked before you met him, you probably would have considered it seriously. Whereas now, your standard is far too high. The man you choose must be able to get to your heart by cooking you the best food in the kingdom and all the seas. 

You’re glowing by the time you finish getting ready for the masquerade. The dress you chose is in your favorite color, with the skirt twirling dreamily when you turn. 

Chrysanth permitted you to enter the ballroom a few minutes late to avoid a royal entrance. You use the time to compose what you want to say to Sanji when you tell him the truth.

‘I’m a princess, and I think I might love you’, is that a lot to say? You sigh, smoothing your hands over your dress.

The clock on the wall chimes. It’s been fifteen minutes since the ball officially started. You put on your mask, tying the ribbon behind your head to secure it.

After one last glance at yourself in the mirror, you head to the ballroom—looking much more collected than you actually feel.

Maybe you shouldn’t have bragged to Sanji that you would find him easily, because you don’t.

You were mistaken when you thought all you’d had to do was look for a tall, blond man with a blue mask. (Sanji’s mask is surely going to be blue. He wouldn’t consider any other color. You bet your foot on it.) It’s unnerving how many people fit that description tonight.

You even find your brother before you find Sanji. August is dressed in surprisingly simple, all black attire. He looks more like a gentleman than a commander, lacking all those sparkly medals he’s usually required to wear at events.

“Where’s your date?” August asks, ducking his head slightly so that you can hear him over the crowd. “Chrysanth bragged about setting you two up.”

“I haven’t found him yet.” You answer dispiritedly. “I thought it would be easy.” 

August looks around, and you know that if he knew what Sanji looked like, he would be able to track him down in a flash. You’re about to ask what you should do when August suddenly bows, extending a hand to you.

“May I have this dance, fair lady?” He asks in a fake pretentious accent that instantly makes you laugh.

It would be nice to say yes, but you desperately want Sanji to be your first dance. August would understand. 

But you aren’t able to decline, someone else beats you to it.

“I’m afraid her first dance is spoken for.” Sanji’s voice reaches your ears and suddenly the room is brighter than it was.

You almost gasp, elated that he found you. Were it not for that frown on his face, you would have voiced out your joy.

August and Sanji stare each other down. Neither of them say anything, but it’s clear that their first impressions of each other aren’t the most pleasant. Not liking the hostility you’re sensing is building, you tug at Sanji’s hand. 

Your brother’s eyes soften at that, and he bows again, this time to say goodbye. “I’ll see you later then.”

You watch August go, and Sanji grumbles something you don’t catch under his breath. You'll have to properly introduce them at some point, but worrying about their relationship can wait. You really must cheer up this grump who thought he was going to miss your first dance.

“Dance with me, stranger?” Intertwining your fingers together, you smile and take in how handsome he looks. His suit is still black, but there are several accents in dark blue—the same color as his mask.

The deep navy color makes his eyes look almost crystalline, and you recognize why you love him so immensely when he smiles.

“I would be honored.”

Sanji is more graceful than you expected. His movements are controlled and precise, never moving too fast and always making sure you’re falling into step beside him.

He’s proven, once again, that he can surpass your every expectation. Sanji spins you around, catching you by your waist and grinning before sweeping you off your feet again.

By the end of it, you’re left breathless due to far too many reasons, and they all involve him.

You had tried bringing Sanji to a romantic spot; maybe a balcony, or somewhere by a fountain in the gardens—but it seems that a lot of other people had the same idea.

Everywhere was crowded, but you suppose where you ended up is romantic in its own way. With the sky being cloudless tonight, you could see every star twinkling away through the greenhouse’s glass roof. 

Let the stars bear witness to you pouring out your heart to this man.

“Sanji…” You start, mentally preparing yourself.

“Yes, ma chèrie?” Sanji tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear, you have his complete attention.

“There are things I must tell you.” You swallow the lump in your throat, not brave enough to look him in the eye yet; though you grip his hands tightly in yours.

Sanji waits. He doesn’t complain that you might be holding onto him too tightly, or nag at you for taking too long to put your words together.

When you finally look up to meet his eyes, you find the strength to breathe it out, “...I’m a princess.”

There’s this moment again, when you hold your breath and wait for his reaction; like when you first told him your name. Suddenly, it feels like you’re in the kitchen eating sandwiches with him again.

And, just as it did back then, his reaction surprises you.

His expression barely changes, the only difference being the barely-there furrow of his brows in concern. 

“I know, love.” He says.

“What?!” You drop his hands in shock. “Since when?”

Sanji blinks. “Since the moment we met.”

“But, I—why did you pay everything back? Why didn’t you ever mention it?”

His eyes widen, “Ah, is that why you wouldn’t eat anything from me these past few weeks? I knew you couldn’t be allergic to pineberries.” 

“Sanji, answer the question.” You pout, and he rubs your arms in an attempt to soothe you.

It’s Sanji’s turn to compose himself, you notice. He looks like he wants for your time together to stay lighthearted, when the thoughts in his mind are far from it.

“You didn’t want to talk about your duties, so I never asked.” Sanji shrugs, but you can see him getting nervous. 

“As for reimbursing the ingredients, I suppose I was worried that… you wouldn’t think of our time together dearly if I was just another chef on your staff.” 

Your heart shudders when he lets out a shaky breath. Oh Sanji.

“But that’s the truth isn’t it? I am, and yet I—” He pauses, eyes searching yours desperately. “If I didn’t pay for it, I would be admitting that a chef was all I’d ever be to you.”

You open your mouth to speak, but he cuts you off. “I don’t regret it. I would make the same choice if I had to.” Through the mask, you can see his resolve, but his hands shake as he holds you.

“I didn’t expect to feel this strongly about you.” Sanji continues, “You’re just so lovely, making me feel like I could take on the world for you.”

With your hands quivering the slightest bit, you pull at the ribbon behind your head. Your mask clatters to the floor. Raising your hands towards him, you push his mask up until it’s off, revealing the face of the man who has completely enamoured you; body and soul and all.

You think back to how the colors lit him up beautifully, that one sunset you shared under that blossoming tree. And now, he’s still just as beautiful, in this greenhouse under the moon and the stars. 

You love him all the same as you did then and every moment before. With the weight from keeping secrets gone from your chest, you finally let yourself admit it out loud.

“I love you, Sanji.” You confess. “I’ll go with you, if you’ll take on the world.” You try to say it calmly, but tears build up in your eyes. “You mean so much to me. You’re my dream.”

Sanji inches you closer, wrapping one arm around your waist while his other hand cradles the back of your head. “I love you too. More than you could possibly imagine.”

You quip back at him while wrapping your arms around his neck, “I think I have a pretty good idea.”

Sanji leans in the same moment you do, lips meeting in a passionate kiss that sends sparks running through every inch of your being. He pulls you impossibly tighter against him, strong hands caressing your back and holding firm at your waist. Your fingers rake through his hair, touching him to make sure he’s real. He’s here. He loves you. He knew. He always knew.

That night, you realized that your favorite taste from Sanji is his lips on yours. But, once again, he won’t hear you tell him that.

…

Sanji first saw you when a ceremony was held to welcome the new palace staff.

Everyone’s attention had been on your sister, the queen. Understandably so, but his eyes always strayed back to you. You looked gorgeous, wearing a stunning dress perfect for a princess as yourself. A cape draped tastefully down your back. And your crown sparkled brightly under the sun; but try as it might, it couldn’t be as dazzling as you.

Sanji was drawn to you instantly, and he thought he would go on with his life never understanding why.

That is, until you walked into the kitchen at two in the morning to make a sandwich.

It would have been impossible for him to not recognize you. Regular office clothes or not, something was different in the way you carried yourself. It was difficult to miss.

Other people would have thought you appeared mundane. And yet, Sanji found you the most beautiful then.

Because you let yourself smile more when you don't wear your crown. 

But he won’t tell you that.

© togenabi 2023 | see here to be added to my taglist ♡

tags: @songsofadelaide-archive @amitydoodlez @sweetexistentialism @writingmysanity @hotchocolattee @dimplewonie @hearts4zoro @kenkenmaaa @ay0nha @watercolorskyy @holymusicalmothman @appalost

author's note (yes, again)♡— sooo, what do we think about sworn knight!zoro x princess!reader ? 👀

[help-itrappedmyself]

Danny Punches a Clown Part 6

Masterpost

Danny, after many promises and assurances, lets Red Robin take him to the batcave. They travel by car, and as fancy as it was, Danny was almost scared to touch anything inside it. Red was a much better driver than his father though, so he just closed his eyes and focused on trying to keep his healing up.

The Batcave turned out to be an actual cave, underground, with actual bats in it. He was whisked to a medical area too quickly to see much of anything else besides some other vehicles and a giant computer set up. 

Someone was waiting in the medical space with a tray of tools and bandages ready next to the bed, Red introduced him as Agent A. They were quick to lie him down on a cot and set him up to a heart monitor and that had Red and the A frowning immediately.

“It’s a medical condition.” Danny blurted, and both pairs of eyes shot to him. “My heartrate is naturally very slow, temperature runs cold, pale skin, slow circulation so I can't have a lot of different medications." Not that any medications would really work, but better safe than sorry. Them not working would be suspicious, and Danny does not have the energy or focus for trying to keep straight any real explanations right now.  "It’s fine, I promise.”

Agent A nodded slowly. “Is there anything else we should know before we start treatment?”

“Just can't give me any medicines, I think that's the only relevant bit.”

“Alright, I will keep that in mind. Please lift your shirt so I can see the wound.”

Danny does, and they manage their expressions quite well on seeing it. Agent A goes immediately for creams and bandages.

“What burned you like that?” Red asked.

“Gun.” Danny was starting to slur. He did not want to sleep right now, with these people here.

“A gun? What kind of gun causes burns?”

“New blaster, parents made it special.”

“Your parents make guns?”

Danny shrugs, turning his head to look at Red instead of the far off ceiling of the cave. “My parents make lots of things. They're scientists, inventors." Danny waves his arm around vaguely. "The gun was new though, hadn’t been shot with that one before. The earlier versions were much less powerful.”

“Are you saying that your parents are the ones that shot you?” Red asked gently, taking a seat in the chair next to the bed. “It wasn’t just their gun that was used?”

Danny frowns. “Well yeah.”

Tim is very concerned at the tone he just used, like getting shot at by your parents was normal. “Do they shoot at you a lot?”

“Fair amount I suppose.” Red could see Danny thinking really hard about something. Dany’s head was really starting to hurt. His brain was fuzzy and he knew he should be concerned about something, but couldn’t figure out what. His parents shooting at him was nothing new, considering. “Like, they did it more than Vlad but I don’t see him as often, and they’ve done it longer than the GIW, but since the GIW has started they’ve been about equal I guess. I mean, sometimes all the defense systems in the house target me but that wasn’t technically intentional. Took forever for us to figure out how to get them to stop that.”

“Danny, when was the last time you slept?” Red asked gently.

Danny wasn’t sure if his blip earlier this morning counted. He didn’t think it lasted more than an hour, but the last time he slept before that was before his fight in Amity, escaping through the ghost zone and running around in this dimension.

“It’s been awhile.” Danny landed on. True enough for medical history he supposed.

“Right.” A finished the last of the bandages and tugged Danny’s shirt back down. “Well, why don’t you do that now, while we go and find you something to eat.”

“I’m too tired to fight food right now.”

Tim shared a look with Alfred before turning back to Danny. “Okay then. Maybe sleep first and then eat?”

“I will go start making something now that you’re all set up here Mister Danny.” Agent A states, walking past the medical curtains and shutting them behind him. Red pulled out a tablet and started tapping on it. He noticed Danny’s eyes on him after a moment.

“You going to sleep?”

“Strange place, strange people. Not sure that’s the best decision here.”

Red looked up from his tablet.

“You trusted me enough to come here. Trust me enough to sleep. I will make sure no one but me or A comes in before you’re ready.”

[radiance1]

Tucker finds a game installed on his pda one day.

He didn't know where it came from, nor what it was supposed to be and it looked more high quality than a few other games he's seen. So what did he do with it? Surely he should've not touched it and tried to delete it, right?

He wouldn't be apart of team phantom if he didn't also embody the "Fuck it we ball" energy.

So he plays it, finds it to be some dating sim based on the title screen and went through a good fair portion of it, it was fairly normal, if not really up his alleyway of games. But it had its moments though.

Then came Monika.

He didn't know what to do with her, in all honesty. She seemed to be a sapient Ai trapped in a dating sim, which was weird but not that weird compared to everything else in all honesty. She also killed off her friends, though her reasoning was because they weren't real and that it was the only way for her to have a romance route.

Kinda extra in his opinion, but he can see the reasoning.

So what does he do? Rummage around in the game's coding and makes a route for her.

(He swore he saw another pair of hands indirectly helping him when he did it, too.)

Monika was downright ecstatic when he was finished with it, he outlined a route for her but then she just took control of it, coding in events, mini-games, gifts and other sorts of things for her route. She thanked him immensely for outlining a route for her, since even with all of her control she couldn't directly go against core programming when it came to herself like that.

He was glad to help her out, really, she seemed like a pretty nice person, pushed outside of her core programming because of her sapience. He even coded Monika outside of the game and let her roam around in his pda, which accidentally added another layer of protection to his firewalls, but he isn't complaining.

Then she wondered how it would be like in the real world, with him and everyone else.

It really just went off from there.

Jack and Maddie are genius inventors, and now that they no longer have such a driving, blinding hatred towards ghost due to their son being revealed as a halfa, they no longer spend all of their time on ghost themed weapons and stuff.

So he went to them, showed them Monika (Which they were extremely impressed with) and decided to help him in building her a body! Probably also because they liked the challenge of building a body too, but meh.

Tucker drew up a design based on Monika's wishes, and tweaked it a bit here and there to ensure perfect human functionality.

Monika told Jack and Maddie that they didn't need to spend too much effort on it, since she would be fine with just a body, but Jack went no and they went all in. Did Tucker know what they were using to built her body? No, no he did not.

Apparently they made her body out of some rare metal they obtained from Vlad, who is trying very hard to redeem and put himself back in the Fenton's good graces after having some sense knocked into him, a rare metal called nth metal that Vlad apparently lost a lot trying to get, even had to use less then clean methods to get, but not anything he can't make back in a while.

Her blood was ectoplasm, with a fully functional heart made from the same metal and basically every other organs as well. Her brain was basically a supercomputer that'll let her connect to the internet whenever she wants, as well as allow her access to wifi from virtually wherever.

Her skin was made from another metal, one that imitated the feel and look of human skin, while also being more durable. They also added in features that'll simulate touch, taste, smell, sight, and hearing as well!

Monika was honestly floored when she was downloaded into the body, it was much, much more than she had asked for and she didn't even know if she could repay them for it. To which Jack and Maddie just waved off because the chance to make a body from scratch out of a rare metal that was basically just gonna lie there for a sapient Ai wasn't one that would come often, so the experience was invaluable honestly!

Monika tried out everything she could after that, just happy to be among real people after becoming aware. She could finally be with her boyfriend, physically, no longer bound by a wall between them.

Then a while later, she may have accidentally hacked into what Tucker later told her was the Justice League Watchtower. It wasn't even her fault, she just wanted to hack into a nearby satellite, honest!

It's not like Tucker could talk, really. He's been hacking into the local government database for a while now, and why, it's not like he could do better, could he?

He saw a challenge when he saw one, and he should shy away from it because it was the Justice League.

But

So then the both of them competed to see who could hack into the Justice League database the fastest. A romance game Ai who grew sapience and got into the real world, versus a guy who's insanely smart and good at hacking who got her into the real world.

Of course it couldn't have been that easy, though, and really, it wouldn't have been a true challenge is they didn't engage in a cyber battle against the people they're hacking into, right?

Meanwhile, the Justice League is watching as Batman, Tim, and Oracle is fighting against two unknowns hacking into their database and having what is no doubt a cyber battle of such intensity they're wondering how the hell that keyboard is still standing against how fast their fingers are flying across it.

Some of them can swear they can see Batman release an aura of impressed, annoyed, and amused all at once.

[inventors-fair]

Trivia Tuesday: Playtime

[hotvintagepoll]

hotvintagepoll Hot Men Tournament rundown thoughts

I promised a final recap post and here it is! I'll try to cover the questions I saw the most as we closed out the bracket, reveal my ✨secret faves✨, and talk about the biggest surprises and turnarounds I saw in the brackets.

Yes, this will get silly.

ROUND 1

As I've mentioned before, I worked off submissions for who to include in the bracket, so if your fave was missing—that's why. I used submitted pics when I could, but many submissions didn't have one, so I tried to find decent ones in the couple of days I had to prep the first round (I didn't always succeed). By decent, I mean pics where 1) I could see the hot man's face, so not too much moody lighting, and 2) hopefully conveyed something about his vibe, even if it was a funny thing (yes, I showed Howard Keel in full Shakespeare get-up—I'm not beyond putting up a pic because I think it's funny). I didn't know all of these hotties going in, so some I had to guess with, but when I could I tried to pick shots that had a touch of the humor, class, or genre of the hot man.

For Round 1 and Round 2, I grouped the hotties by each decade, so only '60s actors ran against '60s actors, '50s against '50s, etc. Male beauty standards shifted pretty dramatically over the sixty years this tournament covers, and I didn't think it was fair to pit dramatically different styles of beauty against each other immediately.

I pitted hot men against each other based on opposing energies—hot vs cold, elegant vs rough, comedy vs drama, etc.. I wanted the polls to be interesting and I've never liked brackets where everyone is clearly in different "lanes" until the finals! I also wanted to make polls where I couldn't tell which way they would swing, so by setting matchups that felt opposite but equal, I got to be surprised by the bracket results too.

The only reason we had any three-way matchups is because the amount of men submitted didn't round to a nice bracket number. I don't like them generally and find them really hard to balance.

Secret faves from Round 1—I am a James Coburn girlie and knew he would die immediately, so that was not a shock but a bummer. I similarly knew Robert Preston is only magical to people who have seen him do His Little Dance Routines in That One Iowa Musical, but it would have been nice for him to last longer.

Surprises—Jeremy Brett was a last-minute add and I didn't think he really had a shot, so I put him in as a third wheel on the Sean Connery/Dean Martin matchup. Little did I count on the Granada girlies. (Always count on the Granada girlies.) The Elvis/Peter Falk poll was the first one to gain any momentum—Elvis was winning for the first 24 hours but then, my god, did Peter fight back. I didn't expect the Tab/Toshiro poll to make that bad a mincemeat out of Tab—people have different tastes, and I thought the people who like blonde sunny All American white boys might turn out for The Blonde Sunny All American White Boy. Sorry, Tab. I hope you've peeled yourself off the sidewalk by now. And, of course, I was SHOCKED and APPALLED that James Cagney would be obliterated by, of all people, Mr. Bing Crosby.

SHADOW BRACKET

The fervor of the Harold Lloyd and Fredric March people inspired the shadow bracket, and I couldn't be happier at the way it's gone. You were right, the original photos I had for them did suck. Cunty Harold Lloyd in his little life guard uniform was a revelation.

ROUND 2

For Round 2 I'd gotten a better sense of who was doing well and who was not, so a little of that came into play, but I mostly paired on vibes again. (I genuinely think this is a good way to make a fun, challenging bracket.)

Secret faves—Noooo not hot dilf Dick Van Dyke don't take my hot inventor dilf away uwu!!! (He was up against Marlon Brando. I would have been shocked if he'd won but for a minute there, a glorious second, it was possible.) I am also a big old softie for David Niven's particular brand of repression to the point of volcanic rupture, but he is one of many hotties who does not look good without moving and speaking so I figured he would be going.

So much beef—hey! hey you. I ran a poll asking if we are horny for dancers. Yes, was the resounding poll response. Where, then, did all the fucking dancers go? This round we lost Donald O'Connor, Fred Astaire, Harold Nicholas; Sammy Davis Jr., Danny Kaye, Frank Sinatra, and Bing Crosby all sneak into this category as well, by token of having been in the kind of big MGM bang-a-pan-and-put-on-a-show beloved bedlams we all watch at Christmastime. Round 2 voters HATED musical matchups. Except for one.

The one—SOUND OF MUSIC, the voters said, WE LOVE SOUND OF MUSIC. we will KILL the man responsible for salad dressing because of the SOUND OF MUSIC. every other dance man can die but THIS man dances a FOLK DANCE with JULIE ANDREWS in a GARDEN. I did not go into this poll with strong opinions about Christopher Plummer or Paul Newman but my god did I leave having heard all of them.

Surprises—James Edwards/Anthony Perkins matchup was a nail biter! Conrad vs Oscar kept me up at nights. Surprised to see Basil Rathbone survive against Sabu Dastagir—both very fetching, but Sabu had some top-tier propaganda. Cesar Romero put up a surprisingly stiff fight against Cary Grant (an omen for things to come).

Oh horrors—horror heroes surprisingly fell all over the place. I was sure either Bela Lugosi or Turhan Bey would sweep their three-way matchup, but Michael Redgrave of all people carried through; Boris Karloff went down against Johnny Weismuller (while holding hands with fellow fallen hottie Fred Astaire), but at least we got his guacamole recipe before he went. Delighted to see that the Venn diagram of the coalitions who support horror hero Vincent Price and funny lil guy Donald O'Connor is a circle.

Secret faves pt 2—oh yeah, I fucking love Danny Kaye and Donald O'Connor. RIP funny lil kings.

ROUND 3

For some reason this was the hardest one to make matchups for. Oh no, all the men are hot.

Secret faves—Michael Redgrave i love you SO much you're SUCH an idiot, how did you make it as far as round 3. I want you to sweep the whole thing but you should NOT be surviving this. I love you, here's a kiss, go home.

Surprises—Marlon Brando is gone! Errol Flynn is gone! Christopher Plummer exhausted himself beating the organic oreos man to death and goes out with a whimper. Beginning to actually see the roots of #mifunesweep as Tyrone Power, a hot man very different from Burt Lancaster, who was in turn very different from Tab Hunter, also gets swept under the wheels of the unbeatable toshirobus. Conrad Veidt finds that no amount of purring svelte eccentricity compares to the people who will fuck a young Lt. Columbo.

SHADOW BRACKET 2

Cannot believe it but Veidt loses this one too. Perkins sweeps and becomes Prince of the Shadow Realm!

ROUND 4

At this point I've set a formal bracket that I'm following.

Secret faves—this isn't secret anymore, but losing Jimmy Stewart hurt.

Surprises—The Gene Kelly/Jeremy Brett matchup was the diciest one all round, moving back and forth between the two by sometimes .01%. Far more surprising, however, was Cary Grant getting eliminated before the quarterfinals. Grant has never been my type, but he is famous for being THE type, so while the writing had been on the wall the whole tournament—how on earth did Michael Redgrave even get 36% in his matchup?!—seeing Grant go down was a SHOCKER. Other fallen hotties included Gregory Peck, James Dean, Harry Belafonte, and Sessue Hayakawa. Peter Falk finally met his match in Omar Sharif.

QUARTERFINALS

Secret faves—I don't know if it counts as a secret fave, tbh, as my horses in the race really went out with Stewart, but I do have a soft spot here worth mentioning. Here's my childhood dog, Keaton.

The resemblance is truly striking, and yes, he was short, fast, and not prone to smiling.

Surprises—I couldn't predict how any of these matchups would go down, but I was most interested in Keaton vs Sharif, as they are both SO hot in SUCH different ways.

SEMIFINALS:

This was such a good batch of semifinalist contestants. By this point I think we could all tell Mifune was unstoppable (though I thought Sharif might give him a run for his money), but I really didn't know which way Robeson vs Poitier would flip.

FINALS:

I wanted Sidney Poitier to pull a last-minute sweep out of nowhere, but alas, Toshiro is just THAT GOOD (maybe. I will admit that I find Toshiro's domination a little hard to believe, given the variety and hotness of all his competitors; the man is hot but all these men are hot). I'm still happy with how the tournament went.

FINAL MEDITATIONS:

Biggest shock of a dropout: the loss of Paul Newman

Biggest "you people have no taste": the loss of James Cagney

Biggest victory: Paul Robeson making it to the semifinals over often-assumed champion Gregory Peck

Biggest coalition who deserve justice: dancing men

Biggest ask character: vents anon (currently eating Laurence Olivier)

Biggest, uhh, anything: how many of you are here! I genuinely thought it would be me and 10 other people voting for the whole tournament. I'm thrilled it took off like this!

I think that's everything, but I'm happy to answer addl asks. And THANK YOU to everyone for your tags, rants, impassioned propaganda, beautiful pics, and love for the hot men! See you for the ladies!

[bergdg]

Analyzing Invention: Jan-April 2024

The first four months of 2024 have come and gone. Along with wind, snow, solar eclipses and rain, there have been 16 challenges with the Inventor's Fair, a Magic: the Gathering card design contest blog here on Tumblr.

For the uninitiated, each week, a design challenge is announced on the blog and members of the community create cards meeting the design specifications. At the end of the week, a few winners and runner-ups are selected from the submission.

Similar to what I did at the end of last year, let's take a look at some of the trends so far this year - January through April.

Art. Katerina of Myra's Marvels. Illustrated by Gaboleps

The Contests

So far, there have been 16 contests over 17 weeks, with one off-week for a call for new judges from the community. In Week 6, spooky-bard moved from contestant to judge and had their first time in the judgement seat with a contest all about Nothing.

There have been 78 distinct participants, with 3 participants submitting a card each contest thus far. On average, there have been 21 participants per contest, with the highest being Week 3 - For the Spikes! (28 participants) and the lowest being a tie between Week 7 - My Better Half and Week 11 - War Never* Changes (16 participants).

A big shout-out to the IF team for their work in planning and judging each week's contest: @abelzumi, @follower-of-liliana, @gollumni, @loreholdlesbian, Mr. ShinyObject, and @spooky-bard!

Speaking of the contests...

The Submissions

Over the 16 contests, there have already been 350 unique submissions. And with some contests having multiple cards per submission, that results in 377 cards, enough for a draftable cube.

Let's look at some of the stats behind these cards, starting with Card Type.

Fig. 1 - Bar graph of card submissions by card types. Artifact, 51. Battle, 16. Creature, 205. Enchantment, 41. Instant, 30. Land, 2. Planeswalker, 1. Sorcery, 48. Other, 0.

By far, the most popular card type to design are Creatures, with a fair few of them also falling into the Artifact and Enchantment buckets. Planeswalkers have seen the least amount of love, with only one having been in the contest thus far: Leucina of Dark Desire by @mudthing in the For the Spikes! contest of Week 3.

For color, I've decided to stick with the overall Color Identity of the cards created, rather than those represented in the mana cost. I've also just separated the submissions by single colors; parsing them into pairs, wedges, and shards would be possible, but a little more convoluted.

Fig. 2 - Donut graph of card submissions by color identity. White, 103. Blue, 99. Black, 117. Red, 100. Green, 80. Colorless, 20.

Black colored card submissions are slightly edging out white, red and blue with 22.5% of submissions being at least partial black. This is especially interesting as one contest, All the Colors of the -1/-1 Counter in Week 15, was explicitly to NOT have any black cards.

Of the five main colors, green is lagging behind with only 15.4% of card submissions being at least partial green. Sounds like we are in need of some lichens and tigers and bears ...

Image - George Takei, Oh My

For Mana Value (MV), there is a similar bell curve to what we saw last year.

MV 0: 7 cards

MV 1: 24 cards

MV 2: 76 cards

MV 3: 116 cards

MV 4: 83 cards

MV 5: 37 cards

MV 6: 14 cards

MV 7+: 10 cards

Cards at MV 3 are the most popular to design, with MV 4 and MV 2 close behind. Seeing these numbers, it really does make it seem like there could be a draftable cube, albeit a wonky one with some crazy drafting strategies.

Finally, let's jump into Rarity.

Fig. 3 - Donut graph of card submissions by rarity. Common, 51. Uncommon, 140. Rare, 151. Mythic Rare, 24.

At around 40% for each, Rare and Uncommon are the card rarities most often designed. This is right in the sweet spot for a decent amount of complexity, really allowing designers to show off their design skills.

Winners and Runner-Ups

Starting in this section, we have to give a shout-out to the 31 card designers who have had cards selected as either a Winner or Runner-Up in the contests. In particular, put your hands together for the top 3 entrants so far this year:

@izzet-always-r-versus-u: 10 submissions selected

@nine-effing-hells: 8 submissions selected

@horsecrash: 7 submissions selected

Data-wise, we see some similar patterns with what has been submitted. Creatures are crushing it (67 entries), MV 3 is ahead (32 entries), and Uncommons and Rares are close (although Uncommon is slightly ahead with 41 entries to Rare's 38).

But a shake-up between submissions and selections is in the works with Color Identity.

Fig. 4 - Donut graph of winner and runner-up card selections by color identity. White, 21. Blue, 33. Black, 30. Red, 25. Green, 22. Colorless, 3.

In a big surprise, Blue jumps to the front of the pack, followed closely by Black. Red sits in third place, with Green and White close behind (and to each other). In my analysis last year, Red was the color to beat, but it looks like Blue's allure of card draw, bounce effects and flying creatures has wowed the judges this time around.

But really, the biggest take-away is that we have a community of wonderful card designers and judges who give us a little something to look forward every week. Thank you everyone for your hard work! There will be another data analysis at the end of August.

And I'll see you in the weekly submissions!

[theminecraftbee]

fae zedaph, avian tango, and/or butterfly impulse?

Tango pinches the bridge of his nose. He breathes in. He breathes out. He looks at Zedaph.

"Okay. Why do you have a baby," Tango says.

"Well, it was an accident!" Zedaph says.

"How! How do you accidentally end up with a baby!" Tango says. He pauses. He considers what he has just said. He revises: "How do you or I accidentally end up with a baby! I am a robot and you are an immortal fairy creature. You can't babyificate. I know. You've checked."

"You don't have to sound so haunted," Zedaph says, vaguely hurt.

"I am very haunted by most of what you do, that's not the point. How did you end up with a baby! I can't take care of a baby, Zedaph! You definitely can't take care of a baby! What are we going to do with a baby?"

Zedaph shuffles his feet. When they'd first met, Tango had been reluctantly impressed with how human Zedaph's mannerisms were for a guy who, at that time, still hadn't been entirely certain you weren't supposed to eat people who were rude to you. He's come a long way since Tango had discovered he was just alive enough to be able to accidentally slip into the feywild, and Zedaph discovered he was actually much happier experimenting in the human world most of the time than dealing with other fair folk and their 'predictable rules' and 'annoying laws of hospitality'.

If Tango wasn't mostly made of steel and cold iron, he probably wouldn't have survived the early encounters with Zedaph. Nowadays, though, it's easy to mistake Zedaph for just an exceptionally weird human. Sure, he still looks at everyone a little bit like they're more of an experiment or strange animal than a person, but that's just Zedaph. Even if he were human, Tango's pretty sure he'd follow his own idiosyncratic laws.

None of this explains why he has a baby.

"Okay, look, it's not my fault this time, I swear," Zedaph says. "It's--look, I was in-town, and there was this guy, and he made a bargain with me! It was a very little bargain! I didn't think he'd break it. Honest! He just wanted gold--"

"Oh no," mutters Tango.

"--and I just told him that I wanted him to take care of a sheep for me without looking at it! I wanted to see what would happen if a sheep grew up without anyone looking at it. Would it want to look at other people more or less? You know my problems with sheep and looking at me."

"I hate that I know where this is going," Tango says.

"And he was all like, oh that's easy, I won't break that bargain. And I remembered what you said about how most people don't like having their babies swapped out with fey, which still doesn't really make sense honestly because I think a baby me is WAY more exciting than a baby human to take care of and also then I can experiment with the baby human but that's not the point. The point is that you said most people would avoid that! So I said, okay, if you break our bargain and look at the sheep, I'll come take your first baby. It's a traditional fey thing! I thought he wouldn't do it! I don't want a baby, I want a traumatized sheep!"

"Sometimes I wonder if my inventor knew my life would end up like this," Tango says.

"So imagine my shock when one day I just--poof--I have a baby!"

"I don't know how to take care of a baby," Tango says. "You absolutely shouldn't be trusted with a baby. What do we do with a baby."

The two of them look at the child.

"I mean, I cast a spell on it so it would sleep?" Zedaph says tentatively. "But to be totally honest with you, I don't actually know how long those last. You know how it is with my magic."

"I have decided this is Impulse's problem," Tango responds after a moment. "We give the baby to Impulse. He's a human. Humans know what to do with babies, right?"

Zedaph gives Tango an extremely skeptical look. "I got this one from a human."

"Impulse will suffer with us," Tango says.

"Sold," Zedaph says. "Let's go give Impulse a surprise baby."

"Please don't phrase it like that," Tango says, and they both start heading in the direction of where Tango thinks Impulse is currently living. Surely, he has the solution to this problem. Surely.

[nogenderbee]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ ℂ𝕦𝕥𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕪𝕤 ₊˚ˑ༄

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ anon request: Could I request Ayato, Zhongli, Thoma, and Kaveh with a s/o who can create cute, living toys?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Yeah! Absolutely! Honestly I'm not entirely sure about it buuut... hopefully you like it?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ fluff

✧ over years, Zhongli already saw many toys and mechanisms, yet yours always seem to surprise him

✧ he may've seen the greatest inventions, but yours? They're so simple and cute, they have their own charm

✧ he's used to formal introducing when it comes to inventions like that, and yet you introduce it as if it's some toy for kids! Who knows? Maybe it is?

✧ but what he finds the sweetest is that they actually seem like alive, they move and some even talk! It's hard not to be impressed!

✧ like mentioned earlier, he's used to formal inventions, definitely not as silly as these, so his recommendation may not be the best...

✧ despite that, he wants to help, so he takes you on few adventures and shows you many secret places around Liyue or tells you stories which you may find closest to "fairytales"

✧ he's never recommending anything directly but he doesn't mind giving you ideas by sharing what he already knows

"Hehe~ ... No, nothing. I just thought your invention is really sweet. You have a real talent, dear."

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@bleachtheidiot @toyaswif3y - come get your broke archon!

✧ Thoma is literally like a supportive mother when it comes to your work as an inventor

✧ he's always gonna compliment any work of yours, usually taking time to admire it's looks and functions to give you more detailed compliment than just saying "it's good" and leaving it at that

✧ but he also won't lie to you when he sees something could use some fixing... he's definitely very gentle with it and if it's something little, he might hesitate to mention it but he'll probably tell you about it sooner rather than later

✧ coming back to mother subject... he's not gonna let you pull all nighters! And if he catches you, he'll immidietly force you to go to bed

✧ but if he catches you sleeping on your desk at 1am... he's just gonna move you to bed and moves little health talk for another time

✧ if you ask him for some ideas, they're most likely gonna remind you more of child toys than some serious robots but... those are usually still rather interesting ideas! So why not give it a try anyway~?

"Oh, this one's really good! I really like their design and how you went for the sweet look... and I can also see you worked really hard on making it move so smoothly. You did a really good job! Here, take a break after all of this work, I can make us tea."

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@bleachtheidiot - come get your perfect malewife~

✧ I have a feeling like Ayato, due to being head of Kamisato Clan would know a bit on how to judge inventions but not actual clue how to make ones

✧ but judging is still something! Because he can always tell you what's missing and what requires fixing in his opinion

✧ tho his words may be a bit harsh, due to being used to formal meetings and saying what he thinks there, as it was what he payed for... he tries making words gentler for you next time but first? Feel free to tell him he's being a bit blunt...

✧ but he gets there with time so don't you worry! He doesn't want to be mean to his partner after all!

✧ and if you have tough client to deal with? He'll volunteer to go with you and to help you with business talk, he sees how much passion and work you put into your works so he only finds it fair the other person needs to pay fair price

✧ also, he's gonna try his best to pull you away from all nighters buuut... he takes them himself so he can't really argue here... he'll just try to help you and get you to bed as soon as possible

"They want to pay this little? No, you're fighting for the right thing, you're obviously trying to under pay you. Tell me, when are you supposed to meet them? I'd like to assist you if it's not a problem."

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@bleachtheidiot - come get your boba lover!

✧ inventor the architect.... don't you see it's the perfect duo?

✧ Kaveh get's your struggle... so little time and so many ideas... let alone, if you're selling what you create!

✧ he's never gonna hesitate to help you, be it with the design or just to get idea for your next project

✧ and if he can't think of anything, he'll go on a little tour with you and maybe there you or him will be able to think of something

✧ he doesn't know much about inventing but he does know that all nighters are sometimes necessary and real pain at the same time... so he'd be happy to be your assistant and pass you various tools

✧ and if it ends you have to pull all nighter and don't allow him close to your inventions? He'll be happy to be your company for the night and coffee and snack bringer

✧ but since you're his lover, he's still worried about your health so despite doing that himself, he'll try getting you away from sacrificing your sleep

"C'mon honey... I get that it's important but so is sleep. And if your client complains, I'll personally have a talk with them! So don't worry about it, go to sleep and let me handle it if necessary, okey?"

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@bleachtheidiot - come get your architect beuty~