#the only tweaking you should have to do to a pattern is take it IN if it’s too loose it places

[party-gilmore]

[on a post being upset at standard pattern sizing]

“A size such-and-such works well for me, I just need to alter the waist length and shoulders and and and-“

“…okay, I’m still pissed they don’t give even semi-realistic proportion options though.”

“nice to know you don’t think of MY body as semi-realistic 🙄”

YOU!!! WERE LITERALLY JUST GOING ON ABOUT HOW TO HAVE TO ALTER ALMOST EVERYTHING ABOUT THE PATTERN!!!! HOW IS THAT A “REALISTIC” BASELINE FOR YOU?!?

Big “my child used a standard pattern and it fit just fine” “…your child altered every single piece of it” vibes is all I’m saying.

[comfortless]

HIYA SYL! I LOVE UR WORK WITH THE DEPTHS OF MY SOUL AND ALSO I HOPE YOURE HAVING A GOOD DAY (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ

AHEM! I constantly have this idea of Hybrid!Konig discovering the scent of Hybrid!Reader on his territory, but due to it being so vast he can never catch her in person. All he has to go off of is scraps of food, her scent rubbed against stones and stumps, and prints that are MUCH smaller than his! Until on one faithful day, he catches the lil thing creeping around his personal space!

I just wanna add that I’d love to see you tweak this idea ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ (If you want!) like making it human!reader instead orrrr in a more human manner such as it being a cabin in woods and reader is stranded, maybe. ANYTHING, KEKEKE ID JUST EAT UP ANY OF YOUR AMAZING WORK

raaah thinking about a bear hybrid König because of the cute lil kaomoji.. he would be so big and soft… ;; reader gets to be a fox..! also thank you for your sweet words and the prompt, angel!! ^^ 💘 too many ideas… i should write more hybrid!Kö…

content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. reader & König are mostly human like last time! just with ears and tails. König is incredibly awkward in this (has 0 idea how to talk to a lady someone help him), possessive behaviors, very much… love? obsession? at first sight, fluff, implied sex.

The pretty thing in the grove does not know that she sits on the cusp between admired and threatened. She skitters through summer foliage like a dance, twists and winds and stretches to reach each fattened, ripe fruit hanging from vine or limb. The scent that lingers in this place fills most up with dread, their eyes wide as they look for places to hide or run, any place but here. She hardly seems bothered when she takes a plum into her mouth, it’s juice dripping down her chin as her tail curls over her bare stomach.

She laughs when the birds in their trees warn her of danger, bares her teeth at them and tells them all she’s far faster than some old bear, speaks off-key when she’s drunken on stolen fermented fruit and dazed on the rays of sunbeams shifting through the leaves.

He could rush out, take her by surprise and hook a claw into her throat before she would even have the mind to spare him a glance. It’s just that no part of him wants to, not now, not when he’s been made aware of the beautiful passerby that steals his food and leaves a pattern of uneven, dancing footprints in her wake. He had only had the thought once when he saw this earthly garden uprooted with only the foreign smell of rosemary and lilac left behind.

Watching her now, it’s all too different.

She leaves the pit of her plum at her side when she lies in the grass to rest, tail plumed up and over her middle like a blanket as her ears flick and rustle her hair. It’s not a tentative sleep: she’s soft, warm and utterly exhausted from her day of pilfering if the long, quiet breaths were much to go by.

Any other bearman would eat her whole and pick the bones from his teeth to leave as offerings for the birds, the buzzards with their wild eyes and ruffs of feathers about their necks. But… it’s only summer, what good would eating her do? He reasons it would hurt him more than it could ever hurt her, because then all would fall back to tedium and silence. There would be no more hushed laughter and dizzying prances, no more of a sight prettier than any view he’s seen prior.

He wants more of her than this— more than what he should ever have at all or more of her than even she could offer with honeyed words or soft touches.

So, he only watches her rest. In the gentle calm of daylight, she rolls against the grass in sleep, bares herself unknowingly when the sun warms her and her thighs are too warm to press against one another. And finally, he wills himself to turn away, to wander back to that dreary cabin that serves as a proper home, because as much as he wants, he does not deserve.

The days go on like this.

The haze of summer does not let up, and she’s made a home of a strawberry patch in a glade closer to the cabin than she’s ever been before. He watches her bask amongst the bushes, lying on her belly while the sun beats down against her hide, kisses over her shoulders with a yellowish glow that only makes her look as sweet as warmed honey, a bonfire, lovely as the fruit she steals.

Nothing changes in her even when he does bring himself to detach from the shade of the pine, force himself into the light for the birds and tiny humming bees to see. She tilts her head back, flicks her tail and smiles like she’s known he’s been there all along. Known the loneliness and tastes it on her teeth to spit it back out in refusal, but she hasn’t— not like he has, because she’s the one who speaks first.

“Are you going to eat me?,” she asks when she’s risen to her feet. His little fox does not hide herself from him; her tail sways lazily behind her, each dip and curve displayed so openly that he wonders if she sees him as a threat at all, or then, maybe the danger coaxes up an unseen heat within her.

He shakes his head stiffly, ears pressed back to his skull.

The world itself must have played some horrible joke upon him now, because all thoughts of what he wanted to say filter out into a plume of smoke. It’s maddening, how he wants to tell her he would like nothing more than to drag her back into his cabin and lick honey from her mouth, yet all that comes out is a brittle, “The strawberries are not ripe yet.”

She laughs at him, not cruel, but it still feels like teeth tearing into his throat. All hope isn’t lost, though, because even through her laughter her gaze is fond and sweet. Perhaps she’s seen him time and time again, too. It isn’t easy to hide when you’re as large and difficult to settle as König.

The fox beckons him closer with a curl of her fingers and a strawberry between her teeth. She drapes an arm over his neck to tug him down to her level and kisses him there, with the berry crushed between their mouths. Bitter as expected, but not a single complaint billows up in his mind.

This sweet fairy does not know what she’s done with that shared bite, how his mind goes doughy and sap sticky when the fruit dissipates between them and his mouth finds her own.

He wonders if she does this often, seduces larger beasts to toy with and steal from to continue her reckless romping through the forest, drift off further to the mountains and the sea, endlessly searching for the very thing he’s already found with her. It does not escape him how tightly he keeps her in his hold then, nails leaving indentations in her waist as he brings her as closely as he can, licks into her mouth until she shivers.

He would bring her flowers and honeycomb, carve little idols of her from every tree she loves if she would just—

“Will you be my mate?,” he asks, abrupt, face heating up to his very ears as he finally lets her go. A croak, a shameful one that leaves him wanting to scurry off like a rabbit, but she’s already heard it all and stares up at him with a look part doleful, part adoring. The poor thing doesn’t even know him, doesn’t know that he’s already contemplated clearing out the fox dens in the forest and chasing out the wolves to make sure that she was his alone.

If she tossed him into the river now he wouldn’t dare blame her, he would only take it out on the stupid salmon with their glistening tails, and maybe if he brought her back a treasure made of fish bone and scale he could change her mind.

But she only kisses him again, lingers right on his cheek like something a proper lover would do, before telling him that she’s grateful he’s never come to harm her, that he didn’t mind sharing his fruit on those too-hot days when she didn’t feel roused enough to hunt down the mice and the bunnies, and she even appreciated his kiss: something she tells him that had made her feel like nothing else in her life. All of the very things he’s only imagined her saying in that sweet voice she uses to whisper to the pretty flowers and the bright red cardinals tweeting back to her.

He’s never been sweet, but he believes it when she tells him that he is when they’re lying side by side in the cabin later. There’s a bruise on his shoulder the shape of her teeth and one to match of his own making on her thigh. He can’t keep himself from curling his hand around her there, thumb brushing over that purple mark he’s left as he buries his face into her shoulder and catches magnolia in her scent.

“I really like you,” she admits quietly as the night air begins to chill the sweat on their bodies, as she guides his hand up to press a kiss to his fingertips. As if she had no idea just how badly he longed to ruin anything else she’s ever said that to, set the forest ablaze and lie and laugh with her in the ash.

“I love you,” he says in turn, damning himself further as he always did to a somber oblivion. Only, this one doesn’t leave. Not even when his hand pries from her mouth to take hold of her breast and his teeth graze her skin. Her face is warm, eyes misty, like she’s just been given the most hearty helping of something delicious amidst pure famine.

She doesn’t laugh at his confession, doesn’t bat his face away from her nipple, only suggests that they bathe beneath the moon. He can not fault her for not reciting the words; this bout has only made him further intent on pulling her in to keep. He convinces himself that all it would take is time, or a rougher fuck, something. He’s never been too patient, either.

The fox curls into his lap as the water reaches them, head thrown back where she sits, impaled and ecstatic while his fingers drift to her hips, head pressed to her chest where he tells her that she has more than paid him back for what she’s stolen.

She didn’t need to lie or let him sully her out of pity anymore. Testing and prying in his own way, even as he whispers that confession to her again and again, against her clavicle and up to her neck with every languid roll of her hips.

The truth spills from her mouth like rain when she comes undone, a soft sentiment that pulls him below a warm tide, drowned out and washed away only by the words she speaks then and the way her body wraps so snug around him.

She tells him that she wishes to stay like this… for as long as she possibly can.

He carries her home like a princess from some storybook, lies her in his bed and pulls her close with a grip so tight that she whines about it being too hot— that his warmth is almost smothering, but still melts beneath him when his lips find her own again. Breaking away from her feels worse than those hangdog days he had only spent watching her from afar, longing for the things that she had only now allowed for him to feel.

But König swears to her then when her eyes lock to his and her tail begins that gentle swaying again, that no matter what she will be here forever. He’ll make sure of it.

[bonefall]

Is a cat transitioning to being a gib social or do they take steps to display some physical traits associated with meewa-ness (like dying xeir fur grey)? Are there cases where there's hostility to it because other cats think xey aren't wise enough to fit that role?

Most transition between the genders is social, but yes, overall there's more pressure for transitioning into a gib. In comparison, going from molly to tom or tom to molly is much easier.

For one it's a lot MORE social than the other two genders. It's a little hard to explain, but meewa-gender is associated with a sort of charisma which is difficult to "learn" if you don't already have it. It's the aura of drawing people to you, having a tone, posture, and inflection like your words have weight or come from beyond you.

So when you don't have this arbitrary "energy," other cats in the Clan can become pretty hostile towards the idea of a trans-meewa cat in a way they usually aren't with someone who's trans to one of the other genders. It's that same feeling you get when someone's being smug, or some idiot is acting like a know-it-all and you want to see them get humbled and corrected.

This flavor of transphobia is more passive-aggressive than outright aggressive, though.

I feel like Berrynose actually vibes with being meewa, but knows very well that he's not seen as wise and magnanimous in the way a meewa should be. So he gave up the idea a long time back.

BB!Finleap also got some tweaks, and xey're multigender now. Fin also has issues with other cats feeling like xey don't fit what's commonly expected of a meewa, but Fin simply doesn't care. Berrynose probably massively resents this, I can see the two of them fighting a lot.

So because being meewa has more pressure than the other two genders, there's also more of an incentive to physically transition as well. Rosemary is used for cats with estrogen-heavy systems, and Lycopus is used for cats with testosterone-heavy systems. Generally a meewa-cat is trying to do these things with their transition;

Suppress their scent Some "perfumes" can help, but the goal is to reduce smell, not cover it. Smelling like herbs is associated with ShadowClan, the only Clan that takes baths. (yes i will cover shadowclan baths soon)

Reduce secondary sexual characteristics Such as stud jowls in toms, having a higher voice in mollies.

Changing body function patterns There's no eloquent way to put this. Toms and mollies have different scent-marking behaviors, which is actually caused by their hormones. Molly-to-Meewa cats are trying to go on long border patrols more often, Tom-to-Meewa cats are trying to do it less. (This CAN be done without the need of HRT, but HRT will make their body do it naturally instead of timing their drinking schedules or anything else)

[marcelshorjian]

hi. I saw your coming out post. Big congratulations!!!!

I, bittersweetly, relate very much. I'm 23. I started suspecting I was trans around 15/16. I can generally repress it for a good long while (a couple months at a time), so the dysphoria comes in waves of "oh I can tolerate this forever, it's fine, its not that bad, they're just words/names/pronouns."

I think I am very soon reaching that point of "oh god this is inevitable, and I can't live as a woman anymore."

But I also know I have successfully bottled it back up when feeling like this before. And likely will again because I'm about to go into my first career, corporate job.

If you can even answer this... how did you get to the point where you felt ready to come out publicly?

Congrats again, truly.

Hi there! I usually don’t publicly reply to the more personal messages I get on here, but yours really struck a chord with me. Thank you so much for sending it.

I know what you’re going through. I have been stuck in similar patterns for many years. I started suspecting I was trans when I was 15, asked my closest friends to be called by a male name and pronouns when I was around 19, but only decided to transition medically and publicly this year, at 26. It takes time.

Every year I would get an intense few months of feeling like I needed to transition, but always decided against it, for the very same reasons you named. Feeling like I could survive just like this. Feeling like if I could do without it, then it wasn’t something I had to « put myself through ». That it also wasn’t something I had to put others through. I intellectualised it to the point of finding many material reasons not to do it, focused on my fears and the vulnerability it would bring, just to occlude that very simple question: what do I want?

Delaying doing it, thinking it’s fine, it’s just a discomfort, is because you’ve lived with it for so long it doesn’t register as pain anymore. But it is pain.

Why should you settle for survival? Why would stating what you want be selfish? What are you really putting others through? Some tweaks in the way they address you, maybe some confusion and questions they’d never asked themselves before, that can only broaden their understanding of human complexity. The hostility often comes from defensiveness, but it's not your problem anyway.

You don’t have to do it all at once. Hormones can be started, stopped, picked up again. The changes are gradual. You don’t have to come out to everyone right away, just a select few you trust. But you’ll see, freedom is addictive.

I got to this point after years of unease by being around my amazing trans friends, and seeing them thriving and caring for each other, and them telling me: you love us like this, so allow yourself the same grace.

[varpusvaras]

Clones got to see a lot more of the Galaxy than what most of the regular citizens ever did.

Thire didn't think it was a privilege, absolutely not, but if there was something to be even marginally thankful about in their life, he was going to take it.

He got to see the Galaxy a bit less than most of his brothers. All of the Guard did. There were other things they had that the rest of their brothers didn't, of course. Either way, they all got to see a lot of different cultures, by either travelling all over because of campaigns, or by seeing the Galactic melting pot that was Coruscant every day.

The vode had their own culture, of course, no matter how much Thire had heard people talking about how the things they had weren't truly theirs. How all their customs really just belonged to somene else, Mandalorians or the Jedi or whoever. Another way for others to say they were just copies, Thire thought. Another way to say that they were less than every other being in the Galaxy.

Thire had stopped caring about what others said about them a long time ago. It would never stop, so it was better that way. And he knew very well what was theirs, and what belonged to nobody else than them.

Well. Some things of theirs could belong to others, as well.

He had noticed the way Senator Organa would lean down for a very quick keldabe every time Fox couldn't take his helmet off. How Senator Amidala had started to greet them by telling them how happy she was to see them alive. How General Koon carried the Wolfpacks colors on him. Little things like that, showing them who their people were.

The colors of their armors had always been one of the biggest things that showed everybody who they were and where they belonged to. The armor told you were vode. The color told your company. The patterns told who you were. The last one was extremely important for all of them, and perhaps the one thing Thire was truly jealous about when it came to the differences between the Guard and the rest of the GAR. He had seen some troopers change their designs multiple times, always tweaking them a little bit, adding patterns if they added tattoos or if they went through something defining while on the field, carrying remembrances even on their outside.

It was not really a thing for the Guard. Their armors were supposed to only show that they were Guard, and that was it. The reason the Commanders got to have a different color scheme was just so everybody could easily tell that they are the Commander, and that was it. Thire hadn't even gotten that much, since his armor was mostly identical to what the rest of the Guard wore. Getting the pattern changed now would've been almost impossible without there being some sort of repercussions.

It wasn't a big thing he wanted to do, but Thire was not going to risk it. It was just a shame that he had met Riyo only after already getting his new armor, when there had still been time for him to request any changes. It would've been just few new stripes, so he would've been able to carry just a little part of Riyo every day with him, even on the outside.

He had mentioned it to Riyo last week, as she had asked about something related to how the rest of the GAR chose their paint. He shouldn't have. She had been upset about it, telling him how it was not right, how he should be able to change the pattern if he wanted to, how all of them should, since it was much more to them than just an uniform. Thire hadn't meant to make her upset. Even if she was right. The armor was much more to them than just something they were because being a soldier required it. Thire himself spent more time in his armor than outside of it.

He had told her that it was not a big deal. It wasn't. Thire had stopped caring about little injustices like that, after all. He had had to.

Riyo had been upset a little more, and then got a look on her face, the one Thire knew meant that she was going to do something she felt was correct. Thire had also learnt by now to not to try and prevent her from doing most of those things.

He hadn't noticed it at first, looking at her on that podium. She had always worn a lot of red. It looked good on her, contrasting nicely with the color of her skin and the pale tone of her hair. Then she had requested a turn, and there had been a camera on her, and he had seen the white on her sleeves, showing of the red stripes on her arms boldly.

Thire looked at her as she spoke, the colors of the Guard on display on her for the whole Senate to see, and his face felt really warm underneath his helmet. As did his eyes, and Thire had to blink rapidly a few times for the sensation to dissipate.

Maybe...maybe he cared, after all, a little more than he had told himself until now.

[serpensortiamaxima]

What a delightful drama I've woken up to this morning, eh? I still have thoughts I've not seen being brought up so buckle up.

People aren't upset about the summer update. That whole thing is a symptom, not the cause. What people are upset about is the state of the game itself and how much it is lacking and has been lacking since the beginning.

In the past decade or so, we have gotten more and more accustomed to being sold unfinished games, but with the promise that "don't worry we'll patch it in later updates", and then this never happened. In fact, if Hogwarts Legacy had been an excellent game with its holes patched up and they decided to grant us this free update? The reception would have been, much, much better.

And, excuse the harshness but I do wonder how capitalism-rotten your brain has to be to miss that it's about the principle rather than the update itself. We should not allow corporations to get away with always giving less and less to their clients. Ever. And I can already hear the counter argument of "you can't always get what you want!" and again, that's not my point.

The point is that corporations aim for cost effectiveness. Especially for a free update, they're not going to look at what the community wants really, they will pick the one thing that requires the least time and the least resources because they will have to pay for the time and production cost of a new feature. They know that free updates don't bring in new players. A free update is a way to do community management and get some hype, it might bring in some sales, but never enough to make profit.

Customers aren't upset about the update itself, they're experiencing now the frustration about the game they've always put on the side so far, due to this habit I've mentioned above, of expecting fixes and patches and regular updates from a game, especially one so recently released.

It only takes a quick glance at what's happening with EA in general to see a similar pattern of new content being botched or overpriced, only to receive intense backlash. And that backlash is necessary. Staying complacent and simply accepting your fate as a gamer customer is exactly what corporations are hoping for, because then they don't have to do more. They receive this feedback that it's fine, that they can just do the bare minimum and expect their customer base to eat up the new content in gratefulness. Really? Do we really want to trigger this loop of always getting less and less for something that not only has been bought but that the customers don't even own?

This isn't a Hogwarts Legacy issue, it's an industry wide trend, and we should recognize it as such.

Now, to my last point: mods. I got into modding Skyrim in 2013. Both as an avid user of mods and sometimes to make my own light tweaks for storytelling. For the most part, I'm mostly a mod user and every single time a game I played could be modded, I did so. My current Skyrim save is running on over 200 of them. I only ever play vanilla when I have no other choice. I've quickly touched on the topic yesterday by pointing out how modding requires a healthy and thriving community to work.

There are two main factors to achieve those requirements:

The company behind the game needs to support making mods for their games.

A big and interested customer base

And I guess the hidden third requirement is the coding language and how accessible it is. But I digress. My understanding of the modding community for HL is that it is very small, and therefore limited and that Portkey/Avalanche hasn't provided any resources for modders.

And so, I don't think we'll see a thriving community for HL any time soon, at least not of the comparable kind. And for me, personally, it means that the kind of gamechanging mods I would want to see simply aren't going to happen.

The kind of mods I tend to use are very immersion-focused to allow for a real roleplaying experience, that would include the ability to create new animations, to assign additional dialogues to NPCs, additional routing for NPCs within the map, to allow the player to completely ignore the main quest if they wanted to etc. And I'm afraid that HL is built in such a way that it doesn't have this flexibility even for an experienced mod creator but especially not if the modding community for the game is too small. A lot of these things would require a lot of time, a lot of code, and ton of testing and beta play.

And that doesn't mean that there can't be good mods made, but if the player base wanted to have more mods of a very high quality, we would still need to put pressure on Avalanche to tell them that if they're not ready to provide us with new content, the least they could do is make modding more accessible on their game.

[stardewsnail]

OMG I LOVE LOVE LOVE YOUR WRITING. Can you please write abt Emily, Haley, and Leah (you don’t have to do them all!!) individually falling in love w a fem farmer? No rush!! :)

Thank youuuu !

Here’s 2/3 with Haley and Leah enjoy some fluff ^.^ (I tweaked some heart events)

Leah

Leah feels possessed. She’s been hacking at this piece of wood for hours and now her arms are shaking, but she’s almost done–she’s almost uncovered the art hiding inside. The smoothness of the grain and curve of each careful carving are hypnotic. Her face has been hot the whole time–as an artist she tries to be as in tune with her emotions as possible, but each time she imagines the farmer’s eyes she feels like she’ll explode. It’s ridiculous, at her age, to be so flustered by a silly crush-

She froze mid strike. A crush? She huffed, finally letting herself drop to sit amongst the shavings on the floor. Sweat stung her eyes and she wiped it away with more force than necessary, wholly focused on the way her heart hung in her throat. This wasn’t just a crush. This was deeper. She looked up at her sculpture, eyeing the interlocking pattern and realizing that from this angle it might look like a heart.

Oh.

Oh.

Well, at least she knew where this piece belonged.

Haley

The farmer squeezed her shoulder, “I’m so sorry Haley.” Haley leaned against her, trying not to cry. Guilt clawed up her throat.

“It was my great grandma’s.” She looked up, trying to keep the embarrassing flood of tears at bay. She’d come to the beach before dawn to photograph the sunrise over the waves—she’d been there hours when she’d noticed the missing jewelry. Now only a couple hours of sunlight remained and she was forced to reckon with reality: the heirloom might be gone forever.

“I’m sorry, it’s terrible but try not to beat yourself up over it too much,” the farmer’s eyes were kind. Haley didn’t think she’d ever met another person who was so earnest in everything they did. Their words carried a reassuring warmth that managed to assuage some of the grief. She missed Nana—that bracelet had felt almost like holding her hand.

She sniffled, “I know you’re right…” she trailed off, wiping her face, “Thanks,” she gave the other girl a watery smile, “I’m glad you ended up here.”

The farmer’s grin was almost goofy, “Thanks Haley, I’m glad you think so.”

“I think I’m going to go home and get something to eat,” she sighed, “I’ll see you around.”

“Take care of yourself,” the farmer urged, hands tucked into her pockets. As Haley was about to cross the bridge she paused, looking back. The farmer was pulling her hair back, looking out to the sea. She should have invited her back to the house, Haley thought in retrospect. The thought had her stomach suddenly twisting with butterflies and she froze, hand on her front door, heat creeping up her face.

“C’mon Hals,” she chided herself immediately, entering and closing the door with more force than necessary. It was time for a long bubble bath—or maybe a bath bomb. She could rent that movie she’d been wanting to see for ages with the vampires. Emily was at work for the night, she’d have the house to herself.

—

The next morning, Haley was determined to start the day right. After a quick breakfast she headed out to the beach, camera in hand. To add insult to injury, she hadn’t even managed to get the shot she wanted. But coming out to the sand she stopped short. The farmer was there, sitting in the sand staring out into the surf. Haley frowned, noticing she was wearing the same clothes as the day before, though she’d rolled her overalls up and discarded her shoes in a heap. As Haley approached, her head bobbed as if she was falling asleep.

The farmer jumped, looking over her shoulder. Her sleepy eyes lit up.

“Haley!” she exclaimed, only to yawn before she could continue, “I found it!” She waved something shiny and Haley broke into a run, dropping gracelessly to her knees next to her.

“Oh my god!” She squealed, taking her Nana’s bracelet in both hands, “You found it!” She threw her arms around the farmer, “Thank you!”

“Don’t worry about it,” the Farmer laughed, clumsily returning the embrace, one arm thrown back to keep them both from tumbling into the sand. Haley righted herself, and without having to ask the farmer held out her hand. She passed back the bracelet and extended her hand. The farmer carefully clasped the heirloom around Haley’s wrist with surprising care. She felt like she was going to cry.

“Did you stay out here all night?” she asked.

The farmer shrugged, settling back to her previous position looking out at the sea, “I might have,” she admitted, cheeks flushing red. Haley’s heart thundered in her chest, and she scooted closer, looping her arm through the farmer’s and resting against her side.

“Thank you.”

The farmer’s head rested against her own, and it was only a second before Haley realized she had fallen asleep. They could talk later—after she had some rest. Haley was going to need to start hinting to Pierre that it was time to bring the bouquets back in stock. The farmer was going to need one soon.

[anubiarts]

hi ! I have to learn pixel art for a game development class im taking.... do you have any tips to perhaps get started? (i have aseprite alr :3) thank u!!!!!!!!

Hi! I'm not the best person to ask this (my only projects for game dev were unfinished projects very early on), but I'll try to help

There's 3 important things that I'd say you should know about pixel art for game development specifically: Tiles/Tilesets, Character Animation, and Consistent Sizing

Let's go for one by one

Tiles/Tilesets

While you can make completely hand-drawn scenes for games, it's certainly way harder to do, as it requires a lot more time to achieve, and with things like deadlines on the way, you'll probably have to crunch yourself to achieve it on time, which I wouldn't recommend, especially if you're just starting out

This is where the Tiles/Tilesets come in handy. To put it simply, a Tile is a pattern that can either repeat horizontally/vertically/in all sides, or also a pattern that doesn't exactly repeat in any direction, but can be used to give a smoother end to something, like a corner. There's way more uses for Tiles, but these two are the most common types you'll see

A tileset is a collection of tiles, commonly with the tiles being together with those they work well with

Below is an example of a (messy) tileset along with how the tiles work together!

Basically these two allow you to make scenes quickier and easier, which is a lifesaver most of the time

Below is the most common type of tileset (for platformers and side-view games)!

There's a variant of this which adds slopes and smoother cornes on the insides, but this is still a good starting point

Basically these tiles allow you to cover most sizes regarding ground/wall tiles, which work well in things like gameboy games for example

As for Aseprite, in the latest update they added tileset layers, which makes it way easier to reorganize tiles, along with the existing Tiled mode, which duplicates your current canvas in all axis (or a specific one, depending on which one you pick) to see how the tile connects with their surroundings

You can enable Tiled mode by going into View > Tiled Mode and picking the best option that suits your tile. As for the tileset layers, there's this video that goes far more into detail on how it works:

Character Animation

I want you to look at this set of animations

How many frames do you think were used for each one?

The answer is 4 or less!

The idle animation has 3 frames, the walking/running animation has 4, and the sliding animation has 2! (which technically is the exact same image, but slightly moved left and right between each frame)

If you're starting out with pixel art, I'd really recommend to minimize the amount of frames you use in total, as it'll make it way easier to work with if you don't know much about pixel art/animation, plus you can still manage to add tons of personality into each frame

In Aseprite, you can add tags (by clicking the frame number and "Add Tag"), which helps to separate specific animations. Also, depending on your game engine/tool, it'll pick animations either by a sprite-sheet or by separate png files. I'll cover spritesheets here as that's the most common method

In Aseprite, if you go to File > Export, you can choose to export a Spritesheet, which is essentialy a set of frames connected into a single image, which can then be imported into a game engine/tool and be tweaked there

There's 4 buttons in the Export Spritesheet prompt, "Layout", "Sprite", "Borders" and "Output"

In "Layout" you can select how the frames should be arranged, along with setting constraints on them

In "Sprite", you can select the source of these frames, along with specifying if you want to export a specific layer/tag or all of them

in "Borders" you can specify if you want to add padding or remove space from your exported file

and in "Output" you can enable the option to export the spritesheet (in "Output file") along with a JSON data file if you want

Tweak these options depending on how your game engine/tool handles spritesheets, and you should be good to go!

Consistent Sizing

if you do art with backgrounds already, this shouldn't be hard to do, but it's still important!

This one should be straightforward; Keep the sizes of the characters and scenarios around the same size! Unless you're making something like Grounded, a character will look out of place with a normal house 20 times it's size

Work between the sizes of the tiles and characters to make consistent sizes all around

You can break this rule somewhat if it helps portray better your idea, like here:

but don't go too over the top with it!

I hope this helped a bit ^^

(sorry for the delay with this btw)

[allycat75]

We see you and your handlers, Boston Dumb Fuck (probably more your handlers).

We have been noticing anons coming to various blogs with a couple of sets of storylines- either "what type of girl/woman would you be happy for Chris to be with?" and "I think he is an awful person and the worst actor in the world and he ruined Steve Rogers".

I am not one for conspiracy theories, but I have been here long enough to notice patterns. We just saw it with the anons asking "what would it take to believe it isn't PR". When the consensus was more organic sightings, we got the photoshopped GG party pics and mentions (by the way, I can't remember the blog, but thanks for finding the 2020 pre-Golden Globe party pics- blue blazer, rust turtleneck- which are clearly the original images, at least for you BDF, and probably why Vogue took it down). And of course we got the oh so romantic group date, with Gully overacting to highten the importance, all leading up to the "natural" double chicken peck with the mouth wipe dismount. I think we are still waiting on the score from the Russian judge, but you have strong odds to medal in the Pathetic Olympic Games. However, you will not be allowed at Whole Foods because scientific analysis came back and it was determined you are too manufactured and modified to be considered organic.

So now to the new intell gathering. One is seemingly to gauge how far gone we are as a fandom, perhaps? Maybe would we even welcome you back as Captain America? General feedback is that there is talent in you, BDF (not for the wifey, she is hopeless) but here is an odd concept- maybe you need to work at it, instead of planning and executing these stupid stunts that make you look like a fucking joke. Have some humility that you are not magnificent and take some acting classes, and probably engage in some intense therapy because whatever is blocking you in your personal life is blocking you in your professional life. And remember, Sam Wilson/Anthony Mackie is Captain America. Whether he succeeds or fails, you don't need to come back and look like the White Savior. Also, it would just be sad, like the guy who keeps visiting his high school long after graduating (and we all know why that isn't a good look for you, either).

As for whether another 26 year old would look good on your arm, if only she weren't an arrogant, childish, manipulative, racist, antisemetic, fatshaming clout chaser, my question is why does it matter what we think? If you and your team are thinking of "recasting", don't! Just cancel the show! You are not a character. Your life is not a script that needs tweaking. You should never do this type of arrangement again-EVER!

And as for your next "real" relationship, that isn't for us to decide. What I will say is that you need to get your shit together and be good to yourself or you won't be good for anyone else. This situation exposed how damaged you are by agreeing to it in the first place, with so little guardrails, and caused even more damage by exposing how much of your personality and character was built on matchsticks. There is so much to repair and build back stronger before you should even think about a partner right now. But a little tip- once you are ready, it is no one's goddamn business but the two of yours what you do and how you make each other happy. Hold it precious and don't stop learning and growing.

And finally BDF, fire your entire team- agents, publicists, stylists,... Start with fresh ideas. Even if they have been kind to you and don't have ill-intent, they have gotten you into a rut that you desperately need to be forced out of. Especially if their only solution to get you more work as an actor is to see which Netflix Chick they can whore you out to, they do not have your best interests in mind.

Also, this is just another example of where the fandom has been used and abused for emotional manipulation and free labor, so keep that in mind as you begin to balance the karmic scales again. We haven't forgotten.

[v3nusxsky]

Could you please do a lady lesso X reader where r really struggles with body image and due to this developed an eating disorder. R got really good at hiding their eating habits until one day lesso walks in on r getting changed and sees how thin they are as well as the sh scars that cover their lower half. Lesso sees the fear in r but doesn't say anything and just comforts r when they breakdown explaining it all to her and how they want to get better they just don't know how.

Let me help you

*Authors note~ I feel like I've done similar to this for Larissa but wanted to give Lesso a shot*

Trigger warnings~ eating disorder self harm

Prompt~ see ask^^^^^

Being a teenage girl sucks. This no other way to put it. After all there was so much pressure on young teenagers these days. You didn't take pressure too well. You tired your hardest to fit in with your peers, even if that meant you didn't have the most healthiest methods of doing so.

You hated it. Hated everything really. But more so your hated how you felt in your own skin. You couldn't see anything good about you, there was always things to change or tweak and that was why you did the only thing you knew how. You cut. In fact you did so much that your thighs were littered in cuts and scars all in different stages of healing. You wondered how much free skin you actually had left to mark up. Yet it didn't provide you with enough relief from the emotional and mental pain. You cut out eating regular meals, often only eating small things once a day.

You didn't want to be like this, you knew you needed to stop but every time your promise yourself you wouldn't do it no more you managed to slip up and fall right back into the same old patterns and routines. No one knew about it, your embarrassment prevented you from reaching out. But it soon became clear that without help, you wouldn't be able to get any better without some support.

Your parents weren't an option and you didn't want to put it on any of your friends. So truly you didn't know who to turn to. You'd managed to hide for months so hiding some more wouldn't be any different. Until one day hiding wasn't an option anymore.

You had to change and as much as you hated to see your body you couldn't stay in your soaked clothing. One by one you pealed off every article of drenched clothing, leaving you stood in some now fresh undergarments. You were quick to shove on your shirt, opting to hide your stomach over the scars. But that's when she came in.

There you stood scars on full display in front of the Dean or Evil. You felt your stomach drop, the one Dean who didn't like weakness and her you stood showing the biggest weaknesses of all. Your own mind and emotions, showing just how vulnerable you truly where. With wide eyes she snapped her fingers and you were now clothed as she made her way to you. "What was that sweetheart?" Her tone was soft and almost mother like, immediately making your plans to push her away crumble.

You told her everything, all the reasons what you did to your own skin and how you did it. You told her how you stopped going to the food hall and how you wished to just fit in somewhere. To feel comfortable in your own body and someday learn to love it. But you couldn't tell family and your friends didn't deserve to be burdened by you, so you felt alone. During your explanation, tears had began to fall silently as she assessed your condition. How has she missed all the signs? Now taking in how broken you were feeling it was was obvious what was going on.

She sat with you as you cried reminding you that you no longer had to be alone and she would help you through. She shared stories of her own struggles with confidence and promised you that you were perfect in your own right, bodies are different that's what makes us all unique and each body deserves the love and care it should have. You were truly choked up by her words and decided here and now you would do anything to get better and with the help of Lady Lesso it didn't seem so impossible anymore.

Word count~ 762

[brideofdiscord-rewritten]

Bride of Discord Rewritten, Chapter 7: The Arrangement

Discord was still laughing huskily when they arrived at their destination. On the outside it looked as if it were a quaint little maroon cottage on a floating patch of earth, surrounded by fences and stone paths. Below the floating land was bridges that lead nowhere, other land plots housing trees, which melted as if they were molten. The grass had patterns unnatural and almost sickly. Some were upside-down. Coral floated in places it shouldn't. Surrounding it all, was a view of the Everfree Forest, desaturated and piercing. Jutting out at every angle was rot and mustard yellow.

Fluttershy gazed up at what seemed to be a dark floating castle to her. dark Cotton candy clouds surrounded it, raining chocolate milk.

"Like what I've done with the place?" the draconequus asked her.

"It's…" she stammered, "lovely."

"Wait until you see the inside!"

He carried her to the door and opened it up. Fluttershy's eyes widened at the interior. It was like looking at a drawing by M.C. Escher, with stairs leading to nowhere and doors hanging sideways. It looked like he collaborated with Jackson Pollock.

"Welcome to my humble abode!" Discord said proudly. "Or should I say our humble abode? What do you think?"

Something drained her entire head. Her vision was fuzzy, as if her eyelashes stuck to her eyes. God, her head felt like the inside was expanding, pressuring the skull like a hydraulic press. Her hooves were sore, and unbearably hot. Her balance was gone and she felt her mouth go to mush.

He chuckled. "You'll get used to it, my dear. After all, this is your new home."

"My…my…"

Fluttershy fainted in his arms. He summoned a daybed and set her down gently. He gazed in triumph at his prize. how easy it would be to simply not give her anything? It'd work just as well if I tweaked the plan just a bit. The thought sent a shudder down his back. One that was known when somepony sees something terrifying. How disturbing, though? Is she not a living thing like me?

"She sacrificed herself for us?" Cadence asked in wonder.

"She thought she was the only one who could do it," Applejack explained solemnly.

"He told us what our freedom would have cost, but I never would have thought Fluttershy…"

She buried her face in her husband's shoulder

"That creature hath gone too far!" Luna bellowed, using her traditional Canterlot voice. "We motion that we go to that castle and demand he return the pegasus at once!"

Celestia put a wing around her. "No, sister. If the agreement made is broken, Discord could have the right and power to unleash his chaos again."

Her head hung heavy next to her sister's. "Thou canst not expect us to allow such an innocent soul to be tied to that monster! We know not of his intentions!

"This is all my fault," Twilight whimpered. "I'm sorry, Princess Celestia. I've failed you."

Celestia raised an eyebrow. "How have you failed me?

"You left me in charge of Equestria, and it was put in danger because I didn't take precaution. And…I let one of my best friends accept a fate worse than death!" She hid her face in her hooves. "I'm a terrible ruler!"

She stopped crying as her mentor lifted her chin. "To be a ruler means one has to make difficult decisions for the good of her subjects. There was nothing else to be done."

"It should have been me then! I could have handled him, I could have…"

"I am as distressed as you are, but this was her choice. Discord may do terrible things, but believe me when I say he won't bring Fluttershy any physical harm."

"How do you know that?"

"His nature is to corrupt that which is orderly, not to inflict pain. Some creatures…are not as evil as they seem. In the meantime, you made as best of a princess as you could. Now, your duty is to be duchess once more."

"So," Pinkie Pie sniffed, "what do we do now?"

"what we may do now is contact her as much as we can while we live out our days. To keep her as a part of our lives is as important to her as it is to us."

When Fluttershy had gained consciousness, she was lying on a couch. She glanced at her surroundings and the ring around her neck, realizing that the events of the day hadn't been a dream, sighing heavily. I've accepted Discord's proposal, saved the princesses, lost my friends and freedom all in one day. Now I'm engaged to the Lord of Chaos with no escape. Speaking of which, where was Discord?

Her answer came sooner than expected as the creature materialized above her. She squeaked and jumped to the back of the couch in surprise.

"Have a nice rest, my dear?" he asked.

She struggled to get her words out. "H-how long was I out?"

"About an hour or so. I took the time to decorate your room. You like green, right?"

"S-sure?"

"Of course, we could always share the room after the wedding..." He said, before laughing. "Just jokes, just jokes!" He began to walk off.

Fluttershy shivered at the thought. "Hey hey hey, don't go away!"

He turned his head 180 degrees, like an owl. All before turning his body to match.

"Um, w-when i-is this w-wedding exactly?"

"Oh, it could be next month, next week, or even tomorrow, if you like!"

"T-tomorrow?!"

"That reminds me. We need to pick out your dress! I know it's bad luck for me to see it and all, but given the circumstances…"

"Um, don't you think…?"

She found herself standing on a pedestal facing three mirrors. Discord was dressed as a tailor and taking her measurements.

"Now, let's see. I'd say you're a size four. Am I right?"

"Aren't you going…?"

She watched in shock as Discord made several wedding gowns appear on her body.

"Too frilly. Too casual. Too flowery. Not flowery enough. Too white. Too blue. Ooh, do you like an alternative wedding? I sure do! How's about a scene dress? Or what if we didn't go for the western wedding at all!"

He stopped at an ivory colored gown with green trimming. A thin veil draped over her head from a crown of blue daisies.

"Why, darling," he purred, gesturing towards her reflection. "You look beautiful. Your fiancé's very lucky to have you. Oh wait. That's me!

She couldn't take it anymore and shouted, "DISCORD YOU LISTEN!"

"Yes, my dear?"

She turned to face him. "Don't you think tomorrow's a bit…soon?"

He pretended to think about it. "No."

"B-but…I hardly know you as it is…"

"Do I need to remind you of the terms of our agreement?"

"I'll still marry you, just…not yet."

"Care to explain your reasons behind this?"

"Well…I…you see…"

"Oh, come now, dear. Let's not be strangers. Tell me."

She fiddled with her mane. "I'd wanna fall in love before I get married."

"Oh, there will be plenty of time for that."

Fluttershy swallowed her fear and narrowed her eyes at him. "You said you would give me whatever I desired, right?"

Discord fiddled with his hands. "I did say that, didn't I?"

"Well, I desire that we postpone our wedding. you said you wanted a willing bride, right?"

"I did, but…"

"I would be even more willing if we got to know each other first!"

A faint sense of tension cut through the air briefly. "Alrighty, okay!" He snapped his fingers, making the gown and mirrors disappear. "We'll postpone the wedding for now."

"Until…when?" she could not help but ask.

An idea struck him. "I'll tell you what." He continued as he circled her. "Every night, I will ask you a teensy question. If you don't give me the answer I want, I will keep asking until you do."

"And…when I do?"

"Well," he smirked, "let's just say that'll be our wedding day."

Fluttershy was confused, although less frightened. "W-what's the question?"

"I'll tell you later. Right now, you look hungry."

As if on cue, her stomach grumbled. "I did skip breakfast…"

"Say no more!"

An oddly shaped table appeared between them and they were seated on either end. Discord summoned a candelabrum as a last minute touch.

"What will it be, my dear? Chicken à la king? Lobster? Does it need to be kosher?"

As he listed each dish, it appeared before her.

"Um," Fluttershy uttered. "I'm a vegetarian."

"Oh, right. My bad. Hay? Oats? Baked Alaska?"

"oh!" She beamed! "May i have cold carrots and oats? It's been a while!"

Sure enough, a bowl of perfectly large oats and cold wet, crisp carrots materialized before her. Discord then summoned a bowl of what appeared to be…

"Um…is that…paper?"

"Is it?" he said, taking bite of it. "Hmm, crunchy. Want some?" It was vintage pages of an old mystery series, Nancy Croup.

She raised an eyebrow. It was tempting, but it probably wasn't good paper. It had ink on it, and was likely parchment. "I'll…pass."

Well, he is part goat after all. Fluttershy glanced down at the dish in front of her, shaking as she lifted her fork. Discord was confused at her hesitation.

"It's not poisoned, if that's what you're thinking."

She smiled nervously and took a bite of the oats and carrots. The flavors practically popped on her tongue. It was refreshing!

"Delicious," she gulped.

"Perhaps you would like some dressing! Thousand-island or ranch?"

"Um, ranch? On the side for the carrots."

A bottle appeared in the air and squirted the substance into a small plate. One of them played that are only used by fancied ponies.

"T-thanks." Fluttershy uttered once the bottle had vanished.

"Anything for my fiancé!" He stared at her as she shivered in her seat. "You find me terrifying, don't you?"

She looked down at her hooves. "I…well… I'm not quite terrified. You're not as scary as a bear, Or dragon, or manticore. You just look like that, don't think I'm surprised by much anymore..."

He shrugged. "Perfectly understandable. After all, my appearance is quite…unique." He grinned slyly at her. "Yours, on the other hand… well, its unique in the other direction!"

He put his paw in the direction of her face, never quite touching it, as if to ask beforehand. She backed away, slowly as possible before her chair fell. Fluttershy forgot she was sitting. He caught her with his tail before she could hit the ground and lifted her to meet his eyes.

"What? Ravishing not a good enough word? How about stunning? Beautiful? Gorgeous?"

"Stop!" she squeaked.

"Stop what?" he asked as he teasingly.

Fluttershy wriggled out of his hold. "L-look, I…appreciate the compliment, but…"

She forced a smile as she returned to her seat. She tried to finish her food, but her stomach turned. It was nice to be complimented, but golly, it was uncomfortable. Maybe because it meant nothing after all those stallions said it to her. They didn't know real love, they just wanted her because... She had money? She had looks? Was beauty even real? To her there was no such thing, because nothing in the world is ugly.

"What?" Discord said. "Not used to some pony calling you beautiful?" He chuckled. "Well, you should get used to it, because I'm going to keep calling you that."

He made a gold crown appear on her head. Fluttershy relaxed, but it was rather heavy.

"You know what?" she said quickly. "I'm really tired!"

"Imagine! Our own little chaos corner of the world! No pony to tell us what to do! You can have whatever you want, be whatever you want, and do whatever you want! And I'll be by your side, doing all the heavy lifting!"

Discord scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous! It's hardly even noon yet!"

"Oh, but I didn't get much sleep last night!" She faked a stretch. "Oh yes, I'm very tired! I should really get to bed!"

"Oh, very well! But first, my question…"

Fluttershy shrunk. "Yes?"

He cupped her chin in his paw. "Do you love me?"

Her eyes widened. "W-what?!"

"I asked: do you love me?"

She was silent for a long while, about ready to faint again. Would he get mad if she gave her honest answer? But if she said yes, then they would be married immediately.

"N-no."

Discord shrugged. "Fair enough. Though here's a heads up, my dear. I'm going to keep asking you until you say yes."

"W-why do you…want to…?"

"You said you wanted to fall in love before you got married, so…" He gave her a wink. "Now, let's get you to bed, shall we?"

He picked her up bridal style and carried her to a door that was thankfully right-side-up. He opened it to reveal a room with wavy green walls. It felt like a perfect cottage with fairy lights and... Nordic weapons. For whatever reason.

"I know how you ponies are about gravity," Discord said, "though it is quite boring." He opened a white oddly shaped wardrobe. "Here are some clothes for you, in case you're in a fancy mood. If you don't like them, I can make a few alterations."

He carefully set her down on a canopy bed and gestured towards the chandelier hanging above. "Watch this."

He clapped his hands and the candles went out. Another clap illuminated them again.

"Neat, huh? Ooh!" He pointed to a record player. "In case it gets too quiet for you…" He moved the rod and the record played Fluttershy's favorite lullaby. How did he know?

"Oh, and if you get hungry in the middle of the night," he showed her a microwave sitting on a counter in the corner, "simply press one of these buttons: hay, oats, honey melon, pineapple, whatever you'd like! Except honeydew. That sucks. Oh!" He flew over to the windows. "And I made sure you got a great view!"

He flung open the green curtains, revealing the foggy, dreary forest outside. "Well, maybe not a great view, but hey, any view's better than no view!"

He waited excitedly for her reaction. Fluttershy was struck dumb as she glanced around the room. He had really put a lot of effort into this, and he seemed so eager to please her. She was starting to think Zecora was right, but it was all so much to take in.

Discord frowned at her silence. "Is it not to your liking?"

"N-no it's…" she stammered, "it's…fine."

"Was the microwave too much?"

"probably…"

"Would you prefer pink instead of green?"

"Um…"

"The bed not comfy enough?"

"It's fine!" she snapped. "Really, it's fine! Lovely, even! It's…nice. But..."

Discord accepted her answer and drifted to the door. "Now if there's anything else you need, just holler! Sleep tight!"

"Sly?" his reflection scoffed. "You're acting like a big softy, kissing up to that wimpy pegasus!"

Once he had closed the door, Fluttershy waited until she was sure he was gone. Then she buried her face in a lace pillow. It felt like a distant and tragic ballroom song echoed in her head. Like it was being slowly forgotten.

"Oh, Discord, you sly devil!" the draconequus mused as he admired himself in the mirror.

"Don't you understand? This is better than we could have hoped for! Listen, the ponies can't turn us to stone without the Element of Kindness, right?"

"Right. But what does that matter? They already promised not to use the Elements against us."

"Only because they didn't have a choice, but if any of our deals were to be broken, then we could be free to do whatever we want!"

"And where does the pegasus fall into this?"

He cackled. "I'll bet you by the end of the month, that pegasus will be so hopelessly in love with me, she'll do just about anything for me! She won't be able to use her Element against me, which means there will be nothing stopping me from taking over Equestria! And just think! I'll even gain a queen in the process!"

His reflection burst into laughter. "Really?! That's your plan?! Do you honestly think that little pony would fall in love with you?!"

Discord put his hands on his hips. "And why not?"

"Well, have you looked at yourself lately?"

"Hey, I have my charms!"

"Are you talking about the magic kind of charms or the wooing kind of charms? Because the latter is just hopeless!"

He grabbed the mirror. "How would you like to be smashed into millions of pieces?!"

"Hey, hey! Seven years bad luck!"

"Don't talk to me about bad luck! I invented bad luck!"

He lifted the glass, ready to destroy it. Then he paused and slapped himself in the face.

"What am I doing?"

He set the mirror down and stared at his reflection, which had returned to normal. He studied his distorted face and thought of Fluttershy's beauty. How could he win her heart? She had already agreed to marry him, but not because she wanted to. She only wanted to save her friends. Why would she ever want him?

He shook these thoughts out of his head. "Oh, what does it matter? There are other ways to impress a lady." He studied his reflection again. "Though maybe I should trim my beard."

Oh Discord, still talking to yourself.

[wuxiaphoenix]

Worldbuilding: Weather or Not

I was reading a fantasy lately (Dungeon Life 2) and noticed that the story had the seasons properly changing to winter, and more general weather like the first snowfall that sticks, as well as a massive storm that’s more plot-important later. And it struck me that I hadn’t seen weather much in recent works.

Depending on the story, that may not be a problem. It’s hard to have weather on a spaceship, or even a large space station. And sometimes weather just isn’t important to the plot, besides brief mentions of sunshine, rain, fog, or stomping mud and snow off your boots.

If you do want to get it in, though, it can add a lot of local color, and even a plot point or three. Sherlock Holmes’ London would not be the same without its infamous fogs. A story of Christmas often fits better if the kids are expecting snow, while a frustrated aunt or uncle is silently debating whether or not they should try to explain that the Victorian Christmas reflects some of the colder years of the Little Ice Age, and actual snow on Christmas would be a very bad sign indeed. Or the classic driving rain when you’re after a murderer; first you lose him in the falling drops, and then you find his trail... only to see it washed away....

One of Grace Burrowes’ mysteries (Lady Violet Attends a Wedding) uses a series of rainy days to great effect; to plant subtle clues, to keep people inside (or make it obvious when they haven’t been) and finally even to threaten a life. The weather matters.

You might not want to tie weather so tightly to your plot, but you can learn a lot about a character if he considers shapes of clouds in the wind, or if she slows down in a sunshower to watch light sparkle off the rain. I mean, if you’re drenched already....

The problem is that it can take a long time to write a book, and maybe longer to edit it. By the time you’re putting on the finishing touches, the weather’s usually completely different.

This is not an easy problem to solve.

If you’re doing a short timeframe and very distinctive weather patterns, like the lead-up to and through a hurricane, you may be able to wing it. Likewise if you’re set your story in a place like where you’ve lived, and you know the weather well.

If you don’t... research. A lot of cities and even some small towns have entries on Wikipedia with climate, precipitation, and temperatures seen through a typical year. See what you can find.

Then stop worrying about being accurate and aim for drama.

Have the rain come down in torrents when your hero’s heart is broken. Have the thunder and lightning briefly lull, just at the right moment for the villain to explain his Master Plan. Have the battle won... and the storm slowly fades, a hint of dawn sun peeking through.

Tweak the weather as needed to fit the story. Your readers will appreciate it!

[masterofrecords]

Angstober day 9: The Catch

Aaand this concludes the stuff I was supposed to write yesterday. Oh well, at least I'm finally making progress...

The Summoning

“Um, sir?”

William looked up from the cumbersome arrangement of dictionaries and reference materials, taking a moment to stop thinking in two languages at once. One of the older students – Sam? Stan? – was peeking in through the crack in the door, clearly making effort to suppress a smile.

“Mrs. Young is here to see you.”

William blinked. There was absolutely no reason for his mother to be at the university. A family emergency?

But then a booming laughter sounded from the door, a sweet yet indelicate sound. “It’s Bloydd, lad. Now, off you go, I don’t think I need to be announced like a royal guest just to see my husband.”

...right, of course it was Gwen.

Back when he proposed, she, six years his senior, laughed in the same way. “Sweetheart, I don’t think even marrying you can make me young again. I’ll keep my name, thank you.”

(A little baffled, William then carefully asked if she wanted him to take her last name. She ruffled his hair, kissed his nose and asked how many books and articles had already been published under his name.)

Swan left, still looking confused, and William quickly jumped up to clear out a chair from a stack of ungraded papers.

“My dear,” they kissed and she gracefully sat on the squeaky chair. “I didn’t expect you, sorry it’s a mess here.”

“It’s always a mess with you,” she laughed, and the room suddenly felt bigger and lighter. “In fact, I came to see you because our home’s been terribly orderly lately. You’ve been spending way too much time working, don’t you think?”

William laughed, hoping it didn’t sound too awkward and wondered if the office was dark enough that she couldn’t see the bags under his eyes.

“It’s just that…” how did he explain it? Was there anything he could say about the book strategically buried on his desk under manuscripts and papers, anything that would let her know of its importance without worrying her too much?

“Is it urgent?” Gwen asked patiently, bless her soul.

“In a way?” William tried. He looked around the office, painfully aware of where the traces of chalk hadn’t fully worn off, where the edges of a circle were still visible on the floor.

“Okay,” Gwen continued, taking her hand into his. “Any chance you can ask… the dean, or whoever’s responsible? to extend the deadline?”

William blinked. There was no deadline, per se. There was a warning, there was a promise – and not of a good kind. But perhaps he didn’t need to make sure he’d read the entirety of the tome now, didn’t need to understand the details of each and every ritual described in it?

Perhaps what he needed to do, really, was to extend the deadline – find a way to keep the book safe for as long as he needed to study it.

In fact, wasn’t one of the first rituals in the book intended for protection of an object? A ward, to hide it and make sure only the person with a key could open it. With minimal tweaking, William probably could…

“And there you go, off thinking again.”

He laughed nervously, trying to conceal his excitement, “Sorry, you’re right, I should… I should do that.”

“I think you’ll find that I’m pretty much always right. Which is precisely why you should listen to me more often.”

He couldn’t help his smile, and leaned over to kiss her again. “I will. But right now I need to get that extension.”

“Right, right,” she got up, fixing her skirts. “I’ll leave you be so long as you promise to be home for dinner.”

“Promise.” Another kiss stolen. It was as if her mere presence gave him energy.

She left, satisfied, and William waited for her footsteps to die in the distance before hurriedly locking the door and getting the chalk out.

He knew the symbols and patterns by heart, having done the same many, many times. He pricked his finger with some difficulty, the skin, scarred over and over, growing thicker. The last symbol, to close the circle with the blood – a name uttered in a whisper, so as not to let any strangers overhear it – and the familiar black smoke swirled inside the circle, forming a vaguely humanoid shape.

“You again,” the devil rolled their eyes, the stinger at the end of their tail rocking back and forth in irritation.

“I just have a quick question,” William explained. These conversations had always been awkward – it was obvious the creatures didn’t want to be there, and he felt a little rude asking even if he always made a point to pay for their answers. “I… Right, so I got the book, and – if I put a ward on it, so it would be hidden from prying eyes and only I – as the rightful owner of the key – will be able to open it… would anyone still come for the book? As in, will it work on… otherworldly creatures, too?”

They usually go away for a while to search for the answer, but this time, the devil lingered. There was a smile on their face, and William felt like he’d missed something terribly important.

“Mhm, I can answer that,” the devil looked smug. “The book will be safe, be assured.”

“Ah,” William breathed out in relief. “Very well. Thank you.”

He handed over the payment – some gold, and a few trinkets he’d figured out this devil liked. The devil grinned again.

“Oh, no,” they intoned, and this time they looked quite genuine. “Thank you.”

As it disappeared into the smoke, their grin grew wider.

“Until we meet again,” echoed in the small room, as William was already grabbing his coat to finally go home, to hot dinner and his wife’s loving embrace.

The door closed behind him, the key’s jingle hurried and joyful.

The smoke dissipated, leaving little but a memory of a laughing voice. “May it be soon.”

[strivia]

📻

Alright, okay, let's go! I've actually talked to you about this one before.

It's a tweak of Episode 48. It's actually one of my OLDEST dndads fics ever! It's the "hey, Ron should have actually been seriously injured from the gavel impacting his spine like that" fic.

I have always been like, I'm sorry, his legs are responding? After the noise you described the gavel hitting his spine made??? He should not be able to stand back up without getting healing. It's only probably because of ✨magical healing✨ he's not having some really lasting effects, whether that be paralysis, some loss of motor function, or lingering chronic pain from the incident.

In my original concept, this incident has Glenn actually activating magic he has up to this point blatantly denied he actually has (Cause Freddie always comes up with another explanation for Glenn's spells) to get Ron out of danger. Here's the excerpt of that:

Get him away from the fighting right?  That should be the first priority.  If you could qualify… whatever the fuck was happening right now as a real fight.  But you weren't supposed to move someone  with a spinal injury; you could make it so much worse.   He just- He needed to move Ron.... without moving Ron.  Somehow.  His brow furrowed, gaze anxiously flitting toward the chaos still going on in the room.  The gavel was still chasing the other two around.  They were saying something too, but it all jumbled up into soup in his brain. Teleportation was a thing here right, and certainly not the weirdest thing that they'd seen.  But that wasn’t him, he didn’t do magic, just flashy tricks.  He wasn’t from here, he wasn’t Henry. Glenn curled his hand around Ron's, gaze flitting warily toward the exit.  His hand twitched toward where he usually kept his gun, before remembering their weapons had been confiscated.  They just needed to get out of the building, somewhere sheltered from prying eyes. Light blinded him for a moment, like the weird swirling patterns that appeared when you pressed too hard on your closed eyes. And they were outside, tucked in a small  courtyard he'd caught a glimpse of on his way in as a disembodied soul. What?  His hand was still curled around Ron's, and it didn't feel like they'd moved.  Except that they definitely had.

My concept for the fic changed after I could not come up with a way to properly get them out of this situation fully. Ron is still actually unable to get up after taking that hit in both variations, but in my later concept of it, just like in canon, the verdict goes through and they get teleported back to camp.

They spawn in video game style with all of them standing, except Ron immediately collapses.

When the gavel found its mark, everyone was scattered about the courtroom. But when they were teleported it was like being loaded into a video game level. Reset together, standing in the forest near... their camp? Ron didn't stay standing. A pained wheeze escaped him, and his legs immediately buckled.

This changes their introduction to Jodie, who is also a class with healing spells, so he jumps in immediately to help heal Ron, while also just being visibly actively worried about them and what happened.

This fic is a live view of my Rodie and Glon shipping vying for dominance

[harveyhawkscripts]

[A4A] The Lonely Drider [Drider Speaker] [Human Listener] [Enemies to Friends]

Huge thanks to u/yaminta*, who came up with the script idea. It was a fun challenge and I hope you enjoy what I came up with ^-^*

Synopsis:  A lonely drider weaves a story into their web at sunset, waiting for the stars to come out and see their work. Meanwhile, a human adventurer looks for a place to rest for the night and ends up stumbling too close to the drider's web.

Google Doc

Usage:

- Okay for monetization

- Please credit me as Harvey Hawk :)

- Tweaks, improv, and pronoun changes are okay! Just please do not rewrite the script completely

Key:

[SFX and Action]

(.) Short Pause

(...) Longer pause

(Voice inflection)

Word Count: 1121

Google Doc

—

DRIDER

Hmm... What sort of story should I spin tonight? Something mysterious? Romantic...? No, that's not right.

I know! How about something on the thrilling side. Something... violent. Why not... a gory tale of an adventurer that wandered too close to the Drider's web.

[DRIDER STRIKES]

Did you think you were being sneaky? Tch - you klutzy humans and your ridiculous floppy feet. I could feel you tromping around, you know!

(.)

Yes, I could! Every minute thrum, every twitch in the thread, I feel. Now hold still so I can wrap you up, I need to finish my web before I run out of daylight.

(.)

No, I'm not going to let you down! You'd mess me up. I can't possibly weave with you shaking my web about. This is intricate work.

(.)

(To self) Okay... This here, then over. Oh, and then what if -

(.)

Hush! I'm not talking to you.

(.)

No one! Myself. Grr- why do you care?! Shut up and leave me alone.

(.)

If you must know, I'm weaving a story.

(.)

(Irritated) Because I do every night.

(.)

Nobody! It's for me. Does everything I do have to be for someone? Who are you to question why I do anything? Remember your place, human. I could rip your limbs off and devour them if I wanted.

(...)

Now what?

(.)

It's... a story about a paladin. A paladin who reinvents himself after he realizes the evil of the master he served.

(.)

No, I won't tell you. Only the stars know my stories.

(.)

Well... In truth, I used to feel so alone when I looked up at the stars. Small, insignificant. More-so than usual, anyway. But the longer I looked, the more I recognized shapes and patterns. They were trying to tell me something. Legends of old spun in stardust, fairy tales crafted in constellations.... So I began to answer them.

(.)

It's not-! Wait. Did you say that sounds... cool?

(.)

Ugh, don't patronize me.

Are too.

(.)

Are too! Don't pretend like you're actually interested; you're just trying to make nice so I'll let you go.

(.)

No one is interested in my stories. No one but the stars.

(.)

As a matter of fact, I have tried. Like I said, no one was interested. Not in my stories, and certainly not in me. So don't you dare act like you're any different.

(...)

So, human. What were you doing, wandering about so late?

(.)

A place to spend the night? Well, don't think you've found one. Once I've finished my web I'll toss you right back to the forest.

(.)

Because I prefer to be alone, that's why. And I don't particularly care for the taste of human. I could make a meal out of you, but it would hardly be worth the prep. No, it's best to let the creatures of the night take care of you. Less work for me that way.

(.)

I don't care if you "don't take up much room." You're not staying the night here.

(.)

Listen. Driders like me are solitary creatures. Got that? Solitary. I will never, under any circumstances, let a human of all things share my space, especially in exchange for something as flimsy and useless as friendship.

(.)

(Angry) Friendships only last until someone gets what they want. Then once the other is devoid of use, they're tossed to the side.

(.)

Because I just know, okay? Driders like me don't make friends.

(.)

(Increasingly sad) No, I've never had a friend. I've had people who told me what to do, people who wanted something, people who tried to change me, but... no friends.

(.)

(Angry again) And I don't need any. The stars are much kinder, anyway. As small and insignificant as they've made me feel, at least they listen.

(.)

You want to listen to one of my stories? Pfft, no you don't. You want me to unwrap you so you can hog my web all night. Then, once morning comes, you'll tell the nearest village about the scary drider that attacked you.

(.)

Your promises mean nothing. If you couldn't tell, I don't believe you.

(.)

I haven't tossed you out because - because, well... you've been distracting me! Pretty dumb of you to remind me, actually. You must have a death wish or something. But, if you really want to be thrown to the wolves-

(.)

(Shocked) Wait, what? What did you just say?

(.)

What happens to... the paladin?

(.)

Wait, you remember that?

(.)

Well, uh... The paladin has a bounty on his head from the crimes he committed in the name of his master. He's pursued by a bounty hunter, but as the bounty hunter tracks him, they see that the paladin is actually kind.

(.)

Oh, he's definitely captured in the end. Once he realizes the extent of his damage he turns himself in. Ignorance is no excuse for atrocities, and the paladin has to come to terms with the wrongs that he has done.

(.)

Realistically, he would be executed for his crimes. But sure, let's say he lives on. I suppose he continues to change, if he doesn't rot away in his prison cell.

(.)

Optimism isn't my strong suit, if you haven't gathered.

(.)

Oh, really? And how would you change it?

(.)

Oh. That's- that's actually a good idea. Hold on, let me just... Snip this, then thread it this way... There.

(.)

That's true. Hm... Ahah! I know! I'll just- hm?

(.)

Yes, of course! Then... Here it is. Just move that over, loose the bounty hunter's arrow, and... There. Much more cohesive.

(.)

My night vision certainly helps. I am nocturnal, after all.

(.)

So, what do you think should happen after the paladin heals from the bounty hunter's arrow?

(.)

What do you mean you don't know? You've had all of these ideas so far, and suddenly you're just going to clam up?

(.)

More time? Gr... Don't think I can't see what you're doing, human. You're obviously stalling. But... Your ideas have been helpful so far. I guess... I guess I can let you stay until the story is finished. I'm keeping you tied up, though!

[Time Skip]

(Yawn) Finally. Our masterpiece is complete. I must admit, for a human you have pretty good storytelling skills.

(.)

The sun will rise soon. I guess... I guess this means you'll be leaving, human.

(.)

Well. Consider yourself free for now. But if I find you skulking around here again I'll have you right back in my clutches.

(.)

Tomorrow night? Pfft, silly human. Are you really so eager to be caught in my web?

(.)

(Amused) Fine, if you'd like to try your luck twice. But it better be a damn phenomenal story, got it? I don't just weave any tale into my web.

(.)

Then it's a deal. But hey. This doesn't make us friends, got it?

(.)

Good. Then... I'll see you tomorrow night.

END

[rewordthis]

I don’t know how to say this, but my brain has this safety valve where it won’t let me ship certain things.

Like, there’s a danger warning or something about two characters being together as anything remotely different from friends and my system will just go down until I change subject, you know? Also, I seem to have an allergy in canon if certain conditions aren’t met, so that may explain why I write for fandom in rare ships. lol

And then my favs, are just so varied… I have no type of an otp. It’s not just this or that. But I have come to realise that there are some underlying things these characters will have in common. Like.. I don’t know… why DO I like SouHaru so much that it hurts? Why DO I like AoKa for so long? WHY DO I LIKE GoNana in spite of everything that has transpired throughout the series? It’s because despite the fact that they’re inherently different characters (personalities) they still have something in common that is very deeply rooted in each pair in which they also happen to compliment each other. Or so I see…

SouHaru? They love swimming to the point they would sacrifice themselves to obtain it. Sousuke has the mentality and Haru has the charisma. Together they make whole. 🥰

AoKa? They love basketball to the point they lose themselves when they can’t have it. Again, Aomine has the charisma and Kagami has the persistence. Together they make it work. 😎

GoNana? They hate jujutsu society to the core (without defecting)! Gojo has the absolute technique (is it also in bed? lmao) and the brains and Nanami has insane perseverance and brute force (very hardware of himself if I may point out, also extremely tactical but that’s how he keeps up with Go(d)jo!). Their techniques are also very close, as Gojo’s is mainly mathematically expressed physics (it’s the software we used at school man! Only tweaked to work outside lab environment! 😭) and Nanami’s is geometrically applied mechanics… do I make sense? They Mathematically add up!!! 😭😭😭

Should I also go ahead and explain why I’m obsessed with SukuIta? Even though it’s probably the one ship with the most obvious mechanics in my fleet. hehehe

And look at ZaizenAo: They love football to bits and what else do they also have in common? It’s their absurdity! Zaizen’s plays are rough and ‘dirty’, while Aoyama’s are refined and highly technical— both to extremes. And they also compliment each other, like in these graphs. ↓

They make perfect together! Haha Also, Zaizen is the only one Aoyama has smiled to! Take that and run!!! 😈

What’s funny to me, is that these are not necessarily opposites-attract or too-similar-they’re-exactly-alike, kinds of dynamics. It’s only some aspects of their personalities that fit in one category and some that fit in the other. Also, GoNana is the only pair that is quincunx among my ships and my only bias on opposites are Virgo-Pisces. Aka, very little drama queen energies but highly painful shackle shedding. But everything is for a good cause, ok? There is always a good reason to be together in these pairings because it’s not just mindless passion. It’s the slow burn or complete lack of burn that makes them possible. Yes, I like angst, sue me~

Now, I could go on about other aspects I love of each ship or how my other ships fit in this pattern, but this is going to be a long-ass post if I do. They also work nicely in reverse as well, btw. And to be frank, I would like to explain how my notps work, but then I’d have to be mean, right? I don’t want that. I’ll just say that some things are not supposed to get a stronger hold than to just set the cogs of a story in motion.

“Not every couple is destined to marry.” — Umeya Tsubasa (Keppeki Danshi Aoyama-kun) (and yes, this has a double meaning in my book! 😋)