#how to remove a huge stump

[chrisstumps05]

“How to Remove Four Uprooted Stumps Fast DIY Guide”

[chrisstumpgrinding]

How long will the stump grinding process take?

[chocsra]

idk abt others but yes i do eat up every single one of ur hs au bc it's so silly and yes i am looking at you with a chuuya plushie in my hand to ask for a dazai x reader hs au fanfic

✧ "YOU ARE THE CITY OF MY HEART"

☆ synopsis ↺: skipping class with your classmate, dazai yet again. but this time, you explore the ocean of your feelings together.

☆ content ↺: HIGHSCHOOL AU 15ZAI, musical prodigy! dazai, photographer! dazai, introvert! dazai, slightly ooc, fluff

☆ NOW PLAYING ↺: UNDERSTAND — keshi

☆ w/c ↺: 2k

you don't think you have ever lived without noise,

ever since you were a kid, you were talked your ear off by your parents, lectured by several adults, and screamed plentifully with friends. when there was silence, there was music to mask it. good or bad noise, it existed, survived, and was a huge part of your life.

but you,

Dazai Osamu, are probably the quietest person you've ever known.

the only sound you could associate with him was the shutter of a camera taking a picture—the same sound you've been continually hearing.

It was a regular school day, both dressed in full uniform, baking under the bright rays of the morning sun. There wasn't anything particularly wrong about this day. you could pick off the reddening leaves from bark-ridden tree branches and soak in the imprint of tree stumps, looking ever so similar to that of a fingerprint. it was a pretty autumn day; you just so happened to get to see that. you think, taking a withering leaf into the palm of your hand.

shutter.

"osamu, stop taking photos of me." —you chide, gently swatting the pointed camera out of view. the brunette in front of you, currently crouching, laughs boyishly as he removes his face pressed against the camera, gaze now overseeing the autumn sight before him. "sorry," dazai whispers, tinkering with a few buttons to review the photos he took. "you don't have to skip class with me, y'know." he murmurs, eyes glued to his camera.

he was a photographer, a pretty one at that. quiet and mysterious, you were rather surprised to learn that a boy reads fine literature and other classical means. sometimes, he picked up a violin or combined delicate fingers to gracefully waltz with a grand piano. his most prized possession was a camera, freezing the most beautiful of the intricacies of nature and people. but who was he? the boy who read books instead of taking notes in lectures, wavy chocolate brown hair that sun rays adored to find a home in, and a tall and slim build fitted in a school uniform and bandages. to capture the slope of his cheek, the deep hazel in hollow irises, and his olive skin. he was Dazai Osamu, a walking mystery.

so, you'd like to know where you stood with him in terms of relationship and if he even likes you at all. skipping class together, sneaking in your window at night, pretending to hang out with friends if it meant seeing him—it didn’t feel like something close friends did, like he was a secret you wanted to keep for yourself. but you couldn’t tell if that greed was reciprocated, if he was bored, or even considered you a close friend, a best friend. but instead of worrying too much, you only watch how his fingers work with a bulky camera, capturing nature's highs and lows.

“i know,” you twiddle with your fingers, grumbling, “class is boring anyway.” the brunette furrows his brows at the photos, brushing your excuse off, “this is shit. i think i’ve taken enough photos around the school.” he groans softly; you could practically hear his creative mind burning in the process. “did you delete the picture of me?” you question, standing over the lanky boy’s crouched form. “no, that one is good. i mean, the actual background, it's all repetitive.”

you tap a finger on your chim, “ahh,” you hum, pretending to understand his perspective. “winter should be here already.” the teenager grumbles under his breath before letting go of the camera to let it hang off his neck. you pace around slowly, feeling the surface of leaves crushing under your heels. “I mean, you don’t have to stay in school if you’re already skipping class.” you mutter, watching as a boyish grin lights up on his face. “you’re right, [y/n]! let’s go!”

a cold hand wraps his fingers around yours before dragging you to the nearest exit—"dazai!” you whine as the brunette drags you, “it’s cooooolllddddd!” you complain, your scarf nearly falling off as you run and run. hand in hand. this rather rushing feeling brings you a taste of memories you barely remember you had.

no one understood Dazai Osamu,

because he was a prodigy, he was something. something big, something great, something that made other geniuses seethe in envy. the boy had extraordinary intellect but a weak mind. no, dazai wasn't weak. he was just always unwell to a certain degree, and to most, it didn't take much to figure out—wearing long sleeves in summer, loving bandages for the comforting feelings even if he didn't need them, and reading books guiding the suicidal. dazai never hid it—that he was unwell, almost like a cry for help.

but for the genius that he was, nobody understood that.

but you did, in seventh grade. you were sniffling, pacing in remnants of snow as tears blurred your vision. though in your hazy field of sight, you outline the figure of one of your classmates approaching you, his tall frame catching the snowflakes from hitting your face. slowly, a boyish voice calls out.

"...are you okay?"

it was dazai, the stone-faced boy and talented prodigy. he wore a black trenchcoat, a little too big for his figure, and covered one of his chocolate brown eyes with bandages. you shook your head, a throbbing pain added from the tinge of snowflakes collecting in your hair. his stoic gaze never left you, standing there in the middle of a snowstorm, crying. the boy himself couldn't muster a feasible reason for walking outside in a snowstorm at this hour, so out of courtesy and a slight tinge of nervousness, he whispered, "let's go for a walk."

suddenly, nimble fingers reach out to grab yours; your fingers are used to originally wipe snot and cover your face. but dazai had no reaction to anything gross like that—like snot and tears. instead, he took shaky fingers into the cold ones of his own, pulling you gently along the sidewalk. you could barely make out his face or your feelings at the moment, only focused on his broad shoulders covered by that raven trench coat, soaking up snowflakes and the well of your tears.

from there, you walked and walked. hand in hand. soon running together with no particular destination—only feeling your body starting to warm up, sore feet clashing against snow, and his hand that never let go of yours.

Dazai Osamu never knew why you were crying, nor did you know what ever went through his head that day.

but from that moment forward,

you understood him.

soon, you were led by that same hand past pretty autumn leaves and into a foresty meadow, closed off from the rest of the world. several forms of wildlife scrapped by, followed by a murky pond under the sun's wake, surrounded by trees of reds and oranges. it perfectly provided what the school's campus couldn't—a sense of divergence reeling in the soft convolutions of your brain. "pretty, isn't it?"—the brunette chimes, panting from the long distance you two ran. "why'd you do that?" you grumble, rubbing your abdomen from an incoming sharp pain, "don't you have asthma?"

he immediately backtracks, shooting you an unamused glare, "that's.. enough." dazai huffs, before removing the strapped camera around his neck, "here, maybe you can take better pictures than i can." the boy chuckles shyly, a very drastic verbal response than his usual arrogance.

"hmm," a gentle hum slips past your lips, squinting one of your eyes in order to press the machine against your face. "i can try." after scouting the area with his camera for a few seconds, you began to snap a few shots at the darkening lake, carrying several leaves in its wake.

and as you paid full attention to the awaiting winter, dazai's gaze stayed on you, his autumn. his gaze softened and his slightly chapped lips parted in a momentary surprise, taking you in with every breath he took. Dazai himself loved photography; he loved capturing moments that would soon get lost in time. the brunette, with a talent for many things, found solace in photos. he loved to take photos of resting cats, dark sceneries you'd only find in an alleyway of a fantasy novel, and candid pictures of random couples on dates. dazai loved taking photos but detested that he didn't have a camera on hand at the moment—for he wanted to freeze this divine sight of you in the confines of his brain. your face, fingers, the dip and curve of every facial feature, and how the lighting kisses your skin and hair.

"how's it like? being a total genius?"

you were rather familiar with all your classmates, just curiously getting to know the mysterious musical prodigy, dazai osamu. it was a work period, and everyone in class already begun to slack off, especially since there was a supply.

and you knew that the lanky boy was eerily quiet when the school's athletic hotshot, Chuuya Nakahara, wasn't around. so, asking stupid questions won't exactly result in stupid answers, or so you thought.

"why? wanna be like me?" — he smiles teasingly, tilting his sharp jaw in your direction. "don't think someone who cries in the snow can do it, sorry." you freeze up and scoff, slightly embarrassed from the former interaction you had with him. "dick." a peaceful but awkward silence fills the air between both of you before the boy clears his throat awkwardly. "But i'd be willing to talk about it if you let me bother you at lunch.?"

the question itself caught you off guard. looking around at the chattering students, "i—" the brunette backtracked, hiding his face slightly with gauzed fingers. "Actually!—I am going to bother you. you're friends with chuuya, aren't you?" you shrug, eyes fluttering to the ground, "..i guess so, but i don't eat with him or his friends."

A breathless chuckle slips past the prodigy's lips before covering his mouth softly, completely ignoring you, "alright then, see you anyway, crybaby."

he hates himself for not knowing what to do with you, but he loved you more to let hate consume him, like usual. dazai wanted you; he didn't know what yearning was until he saw pieces of you in sunsets, rain and snow. he's felt destiny with his childhood friend, chuuya nakahara. but he's never felt something so desiring, pining — like he wanted to be with you every day. and maybe one of those days he'll feel you without the stupid gauze wrapped around his fingers. maybe one day he can hold your hand without the excuse of dragging you somewhere new. maybe one day, dazai will figure out how to ask you to be his, how to love you, because he's sure you're the one he wants to love.

"ahh, wait.."

you cock a brow at his shocked face, grabbing onto your sleeve as if the prodigy were reaching for the stars.

"I wish I were a painter, instead." the boy pouts, holding your sleeve childishly, pulling a chuckle from your throat, "why is that, huh?"

dazai's eyes, ever so empty and unfilled, now gleam, pretty and gentle. Softly reaching out to part a strand of hair behind the shell of your ear, gazing up at you feverishly. "usually, I'm so prideful about these things, photography.."

The prodigy clears his throat, his fingers threading through soft strands of hair tucked behind your ear. "But your eyes, they are really pretty." Your lips part bashfully surprised, overcoming your ability to move.

The boy continues as if his mouth was switched on autopilot: " So I wish I could paint them instead. I guess just looking works, too, though."

He smiles cheekily.

all you ever knew was noise,

but you, Dazai Osamu, had that kind of silence to keep you awake at night. Whether that'd be holding hands in a snowstorm, or the few moments he'd stare into your eyes.

Little did you know, that was the moment he fell in love. Or rather, the time it took him to realise you don't fall.

That love has grown before you can even realise it.

✧ chocsra™

[drsteggy]

I’m writing this out because I need to.

I have been a member of a group that could roughly be considered a fandom for something like 4.5 decades at this point. It’s a huge part of my life. I am someone who is known in this hobby as I have been here forever and I have also been one of the people who makes things happen. We just had our big convention a week ago. I cohost one of the events that starts that con, and I participate in another event meant to introduce young people into the hobby.

This past week, my performance was observed by the owner/CEO of the company involved in this hobby as well as their new marketing team and a group of investors. Part of what I do is an impromptu clinic sort of thing and I was doing my stuff to an excited group of kids and parents when I noticed the audience I had. They didn’t care exactly what I was saying, it was more about how engaged I had everyone.

I do this particular event dressed as Link at the request of the person who manages it. She feels this makes me more approachable to kids (it does, sort of?) and the parents get a huge kick out of it. Some parent wants a photo with Link every single year. This year, the investors were VERY excited with my cosplay and they took the pictures and I found out who they were much later.

ANYWAY. There’s a group of people in this hobby who are absolute trash. Like. Every phobic you can think of. Truly awful mean girls. I have had most of them blocked since 2016. For the time line sake, Breath of the Wild was released in 2017, and I discovered it in 2018. I started cosplaying in 2019.

This group of mean girls occasionally gets a hold of a photo of me in cosplay and is terrible about it. I forget these people exist until someone well meaning sends me a screen shot. Like the first time this happened, my friends and I were stumped by the comment about how I should “hang myself in my elf suit” before realizing they meant Link. Like they had been blocked for YEARS before Link existed in my life. Who spends this kind of time about a person WHO BLOCKED YOU.

I guess there are photos from last week floating about because bestie texted me a heads up about it this morning. I have seen nothing. I have no desire to see anything. Like call me cringe all you want but today I’m packing up my Links to go fly to San Diego Comic Con tomorrow because my cringe got me a free badge to go. Like my cringe game is so incredible I am going to one of the bigger nerd gatherings on earth by invitation.

I get I live rent free in these heads but like my cringe is I like video games and horses a lot. Their cringe is human rights violations. Maybe if they got therapy to figure out why they are so obsessed with me that they are still sniffing around almost a decade after I removed access, but I’m sure they’d rather snort ivermectin about it. Like yeah, I’m having the time of my life. It’s completely awesome. I recommend this to anyone who can manage it. Sorry you’re that jealous you have to engage in high school behavior in your mid fifties. I have a wig to style.

[blues824]

Its 💗🌸 /Rosa / @toconolaw ^×^

Staff doing secret Santa with magic music arts teacher s/o! But some how teacher s/o's twk familiar which are chinchillas that gets a bit aggressive/ jealous!!

You requested: Secret Santa

The Wiki said Vargas is shorter than Sam 💀

Dire Crowley

The fact that you’re married to this man was mysterious enough. However, you had asked about a possible Secret Santa amongst the staff to add some more mystery to the pot. The rest of the staff members agreed, and so all your names were put into a hat, and you drew a name. You had gotten Professor Mozus Trein, and you immediately noted that you might want to go to a pet store to get some treats for Lucius.

One stipulation in this Secret Santa game was that you put a charm on the hat so that neither you nor your husband could choose each other. After all, you both knew each other quite well, so it would be cheating. After everyone drew their names, you immediately went to Sam’s shop with your chinchilla. If there was anyone who would have what you needed, it would be him.

You actually ran into Crowley there, and who his gift was for was rather obvious, as he was purchasing some protein powder. Once you had purchased everything you were going to, which included new inkwells and a crystal pen, along with catnip, your husband had extended his arm to you. You put your hand in the crook of his elbow, and your familiar hopped from your shoulder to his. It took years for the little animal to even let your husband touch you, but now it seems you both have to fight over him.

Leaning your head on his free shoulder, you spoke to him.

“I love you, Dire Crowley.”

Now, he had a bit of a quirk about him. He never says ‘I love you’ directly back. He says it’s ‘too simple’. Instead, he would say something poetic, and it made your heart flutter every single time.

“In the musical tapestry of our connection, your presence is a delicate arpeggio that dances through the notes of my heart, composing a ballad only the two of us can hear.”

With that you both kissed each other, starting to head back to his office, where the wrapping paper and ribbons that you needed for the gifts were.

Divus Crewel

Being wed to this man meant a life of elegance. He wouldn’t let you settle for anything less. That being said, you were also a professor at NRC, and since you were a staff member, you proposed in the staff meeting that you all do a Secret Santa of sorts. Crewel was all for it… until you put a spell on the hat that would prevent you and him from getting one another. You pulled Sam’s name, and you had to admit that you were completely stumped.

Luckily, your chinchilla has been around, and it learned Sam’s favorite food. That being said, you needed to go to the town below NRC to get the ingredients necessary to make the chicken gumbo that your friend loved so much. Your husband went with you, and a few people paused in the street upon seeing you both, such an elegant and beautiful couple, doing such domestic things… or maybe it was your familiar.

Now, once you got to the grocery store, you both separated so that you could get the things you both required. You had no idea who Divus had gotten, and he did not want you to know until the day you would give everyone their presents. In addition to all the stuff you purchased, you bought some dried fruit for your animal.

You both headed to your apartment, where you started making a huge pot of chicken gumbo. Your husband came up from behind you and put his hands on your hips, pulling your back flush against his chest.

“I love you, honey~” You sang softly, before starting to hum as you put all the chopped veggies into the big pot on the stove.

The chinchilla you grew to love climbed from your shoulder to his, and all the way to the top of his head.

“I love you too, darling,” He leaned down to place a kiss on your temple, but the chinchilla sitting on the top of his head pulled a strand of his hair.

He let out a yelp of pain before removing the animal and placing it back on your shoulder, where it was giving him a death glare that could probably kill a very weak human. He mumbled about how jealous the familiar got, and you just let out a laugh.

Ashton Vargas

To be this man’s spouse meant that you probably had a very active lifestyle, or you knew where to duck away to hide from his “couple’s workouts”. Luckily, your chinchilla often took your place.  Anyway, at the staff meeting, you proposed that you do a Secret Santa, and Vargas agreed with that idea. Even when you put a spell on the hat that prevented you from getting one another, it was fine. You pulled Divus Crewel’s name, and you had a few ideas that came to mind for your gift to him.

You had to go to town, however, and your husband did not like you going alone. He was a tad worried that something was going to happen to you, so you strolled down the street with your guard dog and guard chinchilla privileges. You decided to get Professor Crewel some gift cards for a new restaurant that has opened up recently. He told you that he was considering going, and maybe he could come back and tell you if the place is a good date location.

Ashton got Crowley, and so you both just went around town to see what he would like. Personally, you would have loved to give him a knuckle sandwich for pushing all of his responsibilities on one of your beloved students, who you viewed as your own children. However, you settled on getting him dumbbells, so maybe he would have a chance to catch the hands you’re going to throw.

Boarding the bus that would take you back to NRC, along with a bunch of students, the Coach that you happened to love pulled you onto his lap, surprising you. You were incredibly embarrassed as a few students started to whisper, but he wasn’t letting you go. Your chinchilla tried to bite him, but nothing came of it.

“Coach Vargas, if you don’t let me go right now, there will be consequences when we get home!” You exclaimed.

However, your husband broke out the puppy-dog eyes. A groan of annoyance made its way out of your mouth before you finally stopped struggling against him, and you resigned yourself to your fate.

“I love you, baby,” The mere amount of love in that sentence made you melt, placing a kiss on his cheek in response. A few nearby students, who you both taught, by the way, started ‘awwww’ing, making you even more embarrassed than before.

“Shush, you! Otherwise you all get detention and you have to help me grade assignments!” A smile was on your face as you made this threat, as you weren’t completely serious. This also made the students laugh, as well as your husband.

Mozus Trein

You two had grown close because of Lucius. Normally, Trein would never be interested in someone so young, as he was nearing the age of 60 and you were in your 30’s. However, your music lured his cat, and as you played the piano, Lucius plopped himself on your lap. A few years later, you were married, and you found yourself in the staff room during a meeting, and you proposed a Secret Santa so as to get into the holiday spirit. Names were drawn, and you had picked Coach Vargas.

Again, a few ideas came to mind on what you could get him, but a lot of them required you going to town. Your husband also had to go, so you decided to go together. Luckily for you, you were able to head to the fitness section and get what you needed. You also called into a high-end gym in the area and you asked if you could purchase a day-pass for a friend, and they let you..

Mozus headed to the stationery section of the store, and you had two guesses on the names he picked out. Your chinchilla was chilling on your shoulder as you made it through checkout, texting your husband to meet you in the square once he was finished. You then headed to the meeting location, enjoying the scenery and the different people that were in the town.

It didn’t take long for him to meet you there, and he also got some other stuff for when you both headed back home for the holidays. You had another Secret Santa thing going on with your step-daughters and your sons-in-law. The older professor took the animal from your shoulder and placed it on his as he held his hand out to you to help you off the bench.

“What a gentleman~ Thank you, darling.” You said as you stood. He lifted your hand to his lips to place a kiss on your knuckle.

“It would be wrong to teach our students to be something that I’m not,” You both started walking to the bus that would take you back to NRC.

“I love you, Mozus Trein,” You said.

“I love you, too, Y/N Trein,” He answered, a hint of a smile on his face as you place a kiss on his cheek and go to board the bus.

Sam

You were not married to Sam… yet. It all felt like a fever dream, as he had proposed to you in the most casual way possible. You both had met at the first staff meeting, where he kept writing on the corners of your notes. However, your chinchilla was not exactly happy about how you both kept giggling with another, and it even bit one of his fingers. Time skip to now, where you had an engagement ring on your finger, your chinchilla is on his shoulder, and you proposed a Secret Santa amongst the staff.

From the hat, you pulled out the name of the Headmage. Sam could see the anger in your eyes, and he was snickering because he already guessed who you got. You looked like the only thing you wanted to give Crowley was a large stick up his derrière, and that just made him burst out into laughter. He himself pulled Crewel’s name, and his friends on the other side had a few gift ideas.

Anyway, you both headed into town and walked around, window shopping. It was like a moment in a Hallmark Christmas movie, where you both kind of dance around each other, laughing and not taking anything seriously. Even though you were yet to be officially married, you were in a honeymoon phase. Well, you were always in a honeymoon phase because Sam never let the romance die out.

To get back to the Secret Santa shopping, you purchased a calendar for the next year. It wasn’t anything special. You also bought some pens, muttering about how the old crow was lucky you weren’t going to shove them down his throat. Your fiancé just laughed it off and got some gift cards for Professor Crewel. 

“Are you ready, my imp?” He asked after you checked out, holding his hand out to you.

“I wish this didn’t have to end… I love finally being able to spend time with you, love.”

“Who said we were going to go back just yet? I’m not quite done with you either…” He placed a kiss on your lips, and you felt a pressure around you that you knew wasn’t coming from Sam, but rather his shadow.

“You’re not the only one, apparently,” You giggled.

[faerieinthehumanworld]

Plo Koon Week, Entry Five

This isn’t technically about chronic pain in the strictest sense, but… it is something that I thought about Kel Dor being able to do that would end up being important in the future. This is set sometime during the middle of the war. Official description: Kel Dor, like certain species of lizards, can drop limbs when in sufficient danger. Wolffe finds this out at the worst possible time. 

@plokoonweek

TRIGGER WARNING: INJURY, DISCUSSION OF INJURY, ALSO BLOOD.

Day 5: Chronic pain || Broken anti-tox mask

In the middle of a siege is not a good time to find out your general can lost limbs at will. They are trying to take yet another city on yet another planet and Wolffe is paying more attention to the flash and explosion of grenades and the endless advance of the clankers than his general, which in hindsight is probably how it ends up happening. General Plo tells him to take the boys and go around the side while he creates a distraction, which Wolffe does, and they manage to breach the doors of the administrative building while the Jedi lures the army out into the open. Someone throws a few droid poppers and a grenade, and the general must be distracted because he doesn’t move out of range like Wolffe knows he can do, has seen him do plenty of times. 

The grenade blows a giant hole in the ground and Seppies go flying, but so too does a whole hell of a lot of debris. Something in Wolffe’s insides in the vicinity of his heart lurches and he is hurrying down the steps toward the newly-existent crater already, worry making his mind a little fuzzy, like bad static. There is no sign of the general for a moment and Wolffe is panicking, because did they just kill their general?? Oh god— He rounds a heap of debris created by the blast and practically stumbles over the Jedi, who is half-lying on the dusty ground. General Plo looks up at them, something resembling a smile coming to his face. “Hello,” he says, and Wolffe wonders if Kel Dor can get concussions. He goes to a knee beside Plo and tries to assess the damage, which is… difficult. 

For the most part the general appears uninjured, and his lightsaber is laying by his side just in grabbing range. However —and this is what makes Wolffe draw a shaky inhale in shock— Plo’s left arm is in bad shape. It’s trapped beneath several huge chunks of rock and scrap metal, twisted and mangled beyond recognition and Wolffe knows that there are so many bones crushed that he couldn’t count them properly. He kneels beside the general and tries his best to stay calm. There is still a battle to win and a siege to carry on, but for now this is more important. He lays his hands on Plo’s shoulder, trying to figure out if there’s a way to save the limb. “Hold on, General, we’ll have this off you in no time.” 

Plo shifts into a more upright position, a rattling sort of hiss escaping him in what Wolffe assumes is pain. “There is no need, Commander. I will be fine.” Wolffe has to fight the impulse to laugh hysterically. “Right. Fine. Sure.” Before he can say anything more constructive or force his general to lay still, Plo leans forward, twists his shoulder slightly to the right and— With a small squelch the limb is separated from its owner, and Wolffe stares. Plo brings a hand up to his (now-armless) shoulder, testing the sluggish bleeding and finding the state of what used to be a limb satisfactory. Wolffe splutters, and Plo clicks at him in amusement. “Take a breath, Commander. It is only an arm.” 

Wolffe removes his helmet and looks at his general incredulously, ignoring the fact that there is a siege they need to get on with. For a second, he just blinks at him. “…what?!” The general shrugs and shifts around, moving to get his feet under him. “It will grow back. I will be just fine.” Wolffe reaches out automatically, helping his general to his feet. “I’m not sure I even know how to process that.” He cannot bring himself to look at the exposed stump, nor at the arm left behind in the wreckage. It makes him just a little queasy. Plo leans against him, and now Wolffe can tell that despite his outward calm he is in a lot of pain. Small tremors run through his side where he is leaning against Wolffe. “It is a defense mechanism of my species—“ a pained hiss— “and while it is extremely unpleasant there will be no lasting side effects.” 

Wolffe signs to Sinker to give them some cover and starts helping his general toward the rear defensive position, where they set up medical. “No lasting effects of just… losing an entire arm.” Plo shakes his head, and although he is still making that hissing noise it is maybe a little lessened. “It will grow back, given time. For now the socket should be bound up, to prevent infections.” Wolffe shakes his head. “Is this Kel Dor specific or can all Jedi do this?” Plo rumbles a laugh, but winces slightly. “Many of the Order are capable of using the Force to support themselves when injured, as I am now, but losing limbs and later regrowing them is a species-specific trait. A quirk of our biology, I believe.” 

When they reach the medical station, Wolffe helps his general to sit down on a cot. Plo is moving slowly, but the sluggish bleeding has stopped completely and Wolffe decides that’s a good sign. If any other vod had lost a limb like that, they’d have been worried about bleeding out, but the general seems fine, if a little weak. Wolffe pats his uninjured shoulder carefully. “You rest, we’ll go finish things up out there.” Plo reaches out and grips his forearm, and although his face is drawn in pain his voice is steady. “Be careful.” Wolffe puts his bucket back on and snaps a salute playfully. “We will. Unlike some, we can’t just snap back from major traumatic injuries.” Plo shook his head. “This is why I did not tell you. I knew you’d sass me about it.” Wolffe smirks and turns to go. “Well, you deserve to be sassed about this. Warn me next time, please.” With that, he leaves. After all, they have a war to win. 

(The general recovers in about four months, and the entire time he is not functioning at full capacity. He wears his arm in a sling while it grows back, and when it does the scales are lighter and softer than before. During this period Wolffe alternates between making sure his general doesn’t over exert himself and reading up on Kel Dor biology. There is much to learn, but at least he’s prepared now). 

[screams-in-writing]

Re-reading your previous snippets I was left on thinking on how exactly does Mr Puzzles do his 'internal inspections'? Like, is there a lot of blood? Does it hurt him? How long does it take for the cuts to heal? Does he have to do this often?

Oooo yes more lore for the fic.

Not me taking longer to answer as I ponder this for months and months.

There will be a few scenes that go into more detail but there is a difference on his exactly things work for Mr. Puzzles body, depending on if he’s in the MC’s world or his own.

Mr. Puzzles home world:

Basically there aren’t any negatives to his body, since everything in that place can take on a lot of damage and walk away without permanent damage.

The exceptions are:

Mr. Puzzles’ screen when it is broken; annoying but easy enough for him to fix given time to replace it or just miraculously have it repair itself.

Mr puzzles limbs, as he needs to maintain them to make sure they’re functioning properly. This also goes for if the limbs take too much damage repeatedly and something requires replacing within the limbs.

But when you put Mr. Puzzles into the MC’s world, it’s a lot different:

He’s basically experiencing chronic pain the whole entire time he’s there. But there are some medicines/etc that actually do work for him when he figures that out (mainly like pain patches you stick onto skin, I think there’s injectable pain medication, but I’m sure he could figure a way to hook up an in though that’d likely be theft-think of loopy/high Mr. Puzzles doing the thing where he’d be sappy and somehow not recognizing MC but flirting when he sees them) and other things like heating pads/ice packs. But also taking it easy when he needs to, whether or not he wants to, as between that and a sententious unable to have his pain level manageable enough for him to function most of the time, even if there are good and bad days no matter what (not me typing this while inwardly going ‘urgh’ over my sore neck and shoulder lol-gonna need a heating pad and pain killer myself later lol)

As for the appearance of blood, Mr Puzzles does bleed but he doesn’t have as much as a human would normally have. But seeing as his neck is the area where the tv connects to his body, there’s greater reaction, since Puzzles’ body shouldn’t actually be alive in this instance (and especially in MC’s world). No one else os an object head in this world, so Puzzles’ body is an anomoly. He can readjust how his head is attached to what’s left of his neck, but it’s much more tender and aching and painful. This makes it difficult to preform maintenance as the agony being caused is more potent and distracting. But he doesn’t make that his first priority no matter just how badly that hurt him to make it stop bleeding.

The process of maintenance sin general tends to involve Mr. Puzzles removing his head and setting it down on a desk or flat surface facing his body so that he can see what he is doing (unless he has to detach a limb, which he can leave his tv head in place).

Maining his arms and legs and even his spine take a lot more careful planning as well. He has to go limb by limb and make certain that everything looks well to the robotic attachments. Puzzles has to be much more cautious as well, as any sudden move makes his limbs have huge swathes of flaring aching pain. But since this was done after he’d replaced his head, and actually had his limbs done in a more surgical aka not sawing off the head there is no blood but the stumps at his thighs and a partway down the shoulder (stopping halfway to the elbows and forearm no longer there).

But there is a lot of unexpected weight put on those stumps by the prosthetics, especially his arms, and while he can move about just fine and act his theatrical fruity dramatic self, the tradeoff is that he needs to rest himself later on, either with or without some of the prosthetics, depending on the level of aches and pain.

For his spine, the only way to check on it is to take his tv head off, place it at an angle to see off a mirror, and do very delicate testing of how everything is holding up. If he does make any cuts (if he’s seeing something that needs to be reinforced), then he will face a small amount of healing time, and minimal blood, since there’s not that much of anything in the way of skin and tissue unless he goes deeper; which Mr. Puzzles definitely does not do, based off initial testing to see how his body reacted.

Internally he doesn’t have to do much of anything, so long as he doesn’t take any blunt force damage to his torso, where I’ve decided he does have organs even if most of them aren’t really necessary to him living ( like lungs that as repurposed to work with his vents to give the appearance of breathing)

Thankfully, Mr Puzzles does not have to do full body main tended often, and for the most part, when in MC’s world, is just keeping an eye on things, but does do at least two or three more ‘major’ inspections and repairs between arriving and Puzzles being able to convince Smg4 & 3 through dimensional communication bs to send over a box or crate of supplies for him to at least tide him over (don’t know if I did a snippet of that or not but basically, to no one’s surprise, Smg4 is not pleased to be speaking to Puzzles and doesn’t really have a reason to help but I feel like there’s a part of 4 that would be empathetic (but not forgiving or sympathetic) to the sudden ‘ive not bleed since I’ve made this change and there’s currently a leak at my neck pls if I can’t come back can I at least get tools to not die a slow and painful death here’ Mr Puzzles is experiencing. But that’s a whole ‘nother thing I’ll explore when it happens *squints at outline* during ch 15, I’m hoping.

I think that’s everything? If not feel free to hmu if I should go into more detail. There will be some of that in the fic, but either way it’s fun to talk about the headcanons I have for Mr Puzzles in this fic!

[minced-mangoes]

This is how I envision Lucifer, personally.

I'm a huge believer in third eye Luci and think he should have an extra set of horns.

His wings are much bigger, and he has stumps where his third set of wings were. He ripped off all three sets, only two sets fully regrew.

I'm not sure about the earrings, honestly, they were a take on the pendant on his belt in demon form, but idk, I might make them look closer to that.

Jabot Lucifer real, and Diavolo gifted him the horn adornments, as when he fell Lucifer was not comfortable with his new horns. Having them decorated helped, and solidified his relationship with the Demon Lord.

He does have eye bags, he has tried to remove them, but not even Asmo's skin products can budge this poor guys eye bags. Maybe it would help if he didn't overwork himself. He does wear a lip balm or gloss on occasion, usually only if he's going to an important function or meeting.

Ears. I'm just going to say it. Demon's tend to have ears relating to their sin animal. If the animal doesn't have notable ears, then they have goat ears. Angels on the other hand have lamb ears.

Lucifer's ears grow feathers.

He has little stripey markings on his cheek. Idk why, I just think they look cool. They probably appear on his hands as well, which is why he wears gloves. He doesn't like seeing them.

The ears, wings, horns, markings, and third eye disappear when he uses glamour to shift into a more humanoid form.

The brothers use glamour to look more welcoming to MC, though as they become closer to each other they drop the glamour, and stay in their default demonic form.

~~~

That was longer than I wanted it to be... If anyone else is interested in seeing more of my obey me design concepts lmk in the comment/send me an ask saying who you wanna see,,,

If this gets enough notes I might finish the drawing, as well.

[tanadrin]

I used Claude to try to help me accomplish a moderately complicated task in Blender--mapping the revised model of Pr's interior I made to a heightmap on a cylindrical projection--and I feel like I'm getting a much better handle on what it can and cannot do. It felt like a more useful version of Google: a way to generate ideas for things to try, that previously I would have found by trying to search different combinations of relevant keywords, but nowhere near enough to get me all the way there, and sometimes simply wrong about some functionality in GIMP or Blender despite their extensive documentation. That's fine; it was still much better than trying to go only on my own guesswork, but LLMs as an improved search engine is as much an indictment of the state of search these days as it is a reflection of the (genuinely impressive) advances LLMs have made.

My usual mapmaking workflow doesn't fit terribly well here, just because the terrain is so different, but the above image I think gives you an idea. It's the map you might make if you were floating in the middle of Pr and could perfectly see the surface under you in every direction. I chose a cylindrical projection because Pr has negligible gravity in its interior--most of the force you feel is the centrifugal force. Red regions are "deepest," i.e., furthest from the axis of rotation, and they experience the strongest "gravity." White regions are "highest," i.e., closest to the axis of rotation; they experience negligible "gravity."

The cut-off stump shapes are the massive crystalline spars of diamond that criss-cross Pr's interior; they have been removed so the terrain below them is visible (and I didn't include them in the model). There are small bodies of water and streams at most of the lower elevations, not shown on this map, since air circulates generally throughout Pr's interior; continuous evaporation carries moisture from even the furthest-down seas up into other parts of Pr, and there's no lapse in air pressure with altitude. Gravity isn't what's keeping Pr's atmosphere contained, just rock; a big puncture in the crust would render the whole world uninhabitable in a geologically very brief time.

Also not really obvious in this map is the extreme relief of some of the terrain. The scarp between the yellow highlands in the north and the orange-and-red lowlands to their south is hundreds of kilometers, an immense wall of rock. Similar scarps surround the concavities in the southeast on most sides. And although you would still die pretty horribly if you fell that whole distance, it would take you a lot longer to get up to speed: at datum, objects only accelerate at about 25 cm per second squared. At that rate it would take you almost thirteen minutes to reach terminal velocity.

Pr's interior is very dim. It gets no sunlight, of course. Although it has a nitrogen-oxygen atmosphere like ours, the scattering of light from distant regions would make them appear redder the further away they are; they would also mostly blur away entirely after tens of kilometers, so the "sky" of Pr is naturally very dark. But a huge variety of organisms on Pr are bioluminescent, taking advantage of the plentiful energy of Ast's powerful magnetic field, and many of them fly or glide vast distances thanks to the extremely low gravity--so although there's no sun and no stars, Pr is full of soft light rising from the ground below, and floating in the air above as well.

I still have to cogitate on how some things like erosion and weather ought to work before I refine the map further. Pr definitely gets substantial heat flow from the exterior surface lit by Ast, so it has weather, I'm just not sure what kind. And obviously ExoPlaSim is not going to be a lot of use here!

[chrisstumps05]

Stump Grinding This Root ball Was A Challenge

[eri-pl]

So, inspired by @winds-of-zephyr416's m&M time-travel AU

...I don't even but into time-travel AUs, but. The feels.

Not an AU even, just a cloud of semicoherent ideas.

For the sake of clarity: when I say in this "and an Awkward Conversation happens" or similar, I mean "and they talk and mention (or reference) Eru" which is more awkward to write than awkward for them thb. )

So yea, smol!Melkor and smol!Manwë time-travel forward into late YoT. OK, sorry, I don't feel like I need a smol!Manwë, adult Manwë is sweet and innocent enough. <3

Everyone (except Manwë and some others) would be extremely suspicious of smol!Melkor and his adult self would hate him. I suppose he tries to frame smol!Melkor for the Feanor-Fingolfin conflict, but fails.

idk what happens before the fateful party, but at the party smol!Melkor sneaks out, goes to the Trees based on some kind of a hunch, tries to fight Ungoliant (I think we're going with this version where big!Morgoth is not there w the Trees), mostly fails. Also screams because he too is good at screaming :D

Tulkas and others run into there alarmed by the scream, Ungoliant ran away, smol!Melkor is wounded, the Trees are black.

smol!Melkor starts poking at them (to most Valar's alarm, esp Yavanna, who probably has to be stopped from stopping him) and they fall apart, and he basically... you know how some kids love to peel off plastic film from notebooks and whatever. He kinda does that with the Trees. And then collapses.

there are now two pieces of somewhat rotten wood standing in the ground, but everyone is more worried about smol!Melkor. OK, Manwë is, not sure about Yavanna. Anyway smol!Melkor is poisoned with darkness, and kind of starts blending with parts of his adult self. He wakes up screaming and has an existential crisis, and says that he should not exist and wants to die and Manwë and probably others (Nienna) persuade him and an Awkward Conversation happens. Eventually smol!Melkor gets better, he does assimilate parts of... of his adult self or whatever... anyway he grows a bit. And yet, he is not evil.

so, Melkor is now in a late teenager or young adult stage, also he's more sad than before but the good kind of sad

and the adult version is Morgoth, so we'll just call them that

the stumps of the Trees begin to sprout upwards, you know how it looks when a tree stump grows a bunch of small branches up and it's like a weird bush? Also, they barely glow. So rebooting them with the Silmarils is still a question.

Melkor (being the kind of smart that they were missing) tells everyone to not ask Feanor, just let him get to the conclusion that he could fix the Trees and then maaaybe he would. They do this.

Do the Silmarils get stolen? I'm not sure. Probably..?

OK, this is going into a huge fix-it territory and we're booting out most of the FA problems, but Morgoth and Ungoliant (and maaaybe the Silmarils?) kind of anihilate each other, nobody knows what happenned, but they're gone, with an ominous subtext that they will be back one day. Basically we're skipping the was and Morgoth is in the Void because Ungoliant. Somehow.

But all the damage is still done, and no, Melkor cannot remove it. He isn't sure if he ever will be able to.

Feanor is upset and wants to take revenge on Melkor because surely, he is responsible for what his alternate version did. He still nopes out of Valinor, but probably doesn't swear the Oath or at least it's less awful. And less Noldor follow him.

They talk about the Men, Melkor decided to go to ME too, Manwë says he shouldn't, Melkor yells at him that the whole idea of Valinor was dumb (yea, he's not wrong), Manwë is terribly worried and cries, another Awkward Conversation where Melkor explains to Manwë why he doesn't want to listen to him on this, Manwë agrees and says that he won't abandon the Vanyar but if any of the Valar want to go, it's fine

Melkor goes to ME, with him Ulmo, Orome (with the pretense that he needs to watch Melkor, but tbh he just likes it there) probably some others and also many Maiar. Some, like Nienna go back and forth intensly.

Also some Elves go with them, but legally. (Finrod!!! <3)

Mhm yeees, Sauron is there which is extremely interesting, but I have no ideas what to do with it currently

Melkor meeting the Men would be ooooh so intense! (Yes, they are messed up already. Yes, the timeline has issues.) I have some mental images about it, but let's just say he's like "Ooooh!!! <3 :3 Babies, I love them, I will take care of them, Babies!!! :3 :,((( " (And yes, Finrod is there too, doing the same but less loudly. I think they's be BFFs as much as a Vala and an Elf can be, like Manwe and Ingwe. Except Melkor would be very impatient and intense and Finrod would be like "---but wait")

Also, because some motives are woven into the fabric of Fate, Melkor (who does have a trickster streak) does trick Maedhros into getting stuck somewhere (Maedhros is not entirely innocent in the situation), but a) it's hours not years and not traumatic just scary b) what Fingon has to cut is not the hand, but the hair, which does grow back but in the meantime Mae looks stupid, c) the whole experience does make Mae a better person

Probably some more things in the "motives must motive" vein, but I can't currently think of them

ok, it's basically "Melkor is good and he gets to do fun stuff: the fic"

and yes, he gradually grows up and when he's a proper adult we are probably having a MelkorNienna because I like this ship so mmm them getting married <3

[shroyerhayami]

Quadruple Amputee Sabrina (Pokemon) Short Story

Sabrina

Many years after the first and second incident of Team Rocket, Team Rocket has been divided into many different sections. One manages the traditional capture and steal Pokemon for profit deal. Others partake in rehabilitation programs to become normal Pokemon trainers.

However, one section has a much darker side than all of these ones. Many Team Rocket members found the need to satisfy their sexual desires. To do so, they kidnap and then fuck Pokemon trainers. Their organization is very well hidden and few have managed to go after them. Each member fucks so many girls a day that just a plain old girl is not satisfying.

Some decided to go with BDSM and some did experiments on girls to satisfy their sexual desires. However, one stood out to them the most being amputation. It all started off with the removal of a girl’s leg. Then, that wasn’t satisfying enough and so they went for the arms. And then they found in was most satisfying to fuck them with no limbs. And so, many ordinary pokemon trainers in Kanto ended up having no limbs.

This concern alerted the Pokemon league. All gym leaders were tasked with finding this dangerous team Rocket and so they did. Misty was the only who stayed out of it because she’d already lost an arm. 

Sabrina was the first to find this Team Rocket. She attempted to use her Pokemon to fight them though she was overwhelmed and kidnapped by them. Everything seemed so strange, and time seemed nonexistent while she was kidnapped.

The surgery to remove her limbs was all very sanitary and professional as they could not risk the death of such a beauty and fuckdoll. Sabrina remembered her recovery as just laying in bed, her thoughts just absolutely nowhere.

Eventually, her stumps bandages were removed, and she became a fuckdoll. So many men were being satisfied by her, and she had never felt so satisfied. It was horrible but also so satisfying. She had never moaned so loudly and had never had her pussy or anal stretched so much. 

If she had limbs, she easily could’ve become dominant with all this experience though her limblessness kept her dominated. Eventually, she was thrown naked into the streets and found by an old acquaintance, Red. He was the one who helped her when she struggled to find herself. 

Sabrina was put into rehabilitation the best she could even though she had no limbs though recovered quite well. She eventually learned to use her psychic powers to create functional arms and legs though still enjoyed being a bit helpless sometimes. She would just sit in her gym when there were no trainers, just absolutely helpless. 

In this time, Red visited her quite a lot and sometimes assisted her with some things. She began to have a huge crush on him especially since he was her hero way back when. She usually had her psychic legs on while she was around him, afraid to be embarrassed if she was totally limbless. She always wanted to tell him how much she loved him though struggled so much.

One day however, she was ready and decided that by doing so, she would not have her psychic limbs on. So, she waited, standing on her legs stumps waiting for him to come. When Red came in, Sabrina could tell he was shocked.

“Hi Red,” Sabrina smiled.

Red was a silent man, and he replied with a little smile.

“I-I wanted to tell you something,” blushes Sabrina. “I love you!”

Red was still silent as his usual self though this alarmed Sabrina.

“I can be a good doll, y’know Red?” blurts out Sabrina. “I can be fucked pretty good, and I’ve already been fucked pretty well but I just kinda want to be fucked by you.”

Red is speechless.

“I know you might not want to fuck a helpless girl but I just love you.”

“Not that,” Red mutters. “I want you.”

“Huh,” replies Sabrina, a little confused at his few words.

“I don’t need to- penetrate you,” says Red, choosing his words carefully. “I want you.”

Sabrina blushes and becomes extremely happy. She feels like she got her soulmate right here and now. She felt appreciated like no one else ever had before. He didn’t want her because she was a doll but because he just loved her. Sabrina looked forward to the happy sex she would have with him and just dreamed of everything they would do together.

[falloutbradreviews]

10 Albums That Changed My Life: 2000s Emo Edition

For the past few days, I’ve been listening to an audiobook version of 2023’s Where Are Your Boys Tonight by Chris Payne, and the book chronicles the emo / pop-punk scene between 1999 and 2008. It’s about the rise and (unfortunate) fall of the genre’s mainstream success, but it metaphorically comes straight from the horse’s mouth. The book has interviews from loads of musicians and important folks from the “scene,” such as Pete Wentz, Patrick Stump, Geoff Rickley, Buddy Neilsen, Anthony Raneri, Hayley Williams, JT Woodruff, Chad Gilbert, Chris Carraba, Andrew MacMahon, and many others.

Because I’ve been listening to the book, I wanted to start a new series in which I talk about ten albums that changed my life, and I wanted to start with 00s pop-punk and emo. I was at the right age when emo broke into the mainstream, so a lot of the big bands at the time were like gods to me. Some of these albums aren’t necessarily some of my all time favorites, but I still love them. For all these episodes, I also wanted to include a “bonus pick,” where I include an album that’s a rather obvious pick, because it’s an album I love and talk about all the time. That way, I can talk about ten other albums that I may not have talk about as much.

The aim of this series is to highlight albums that are important to me, but these albums are in no particular order. I don’t rank these lists, because some of these albums aren’t necessarily more influential than another. Each one of these albums is important in some way, but I wanted to highlight them regardless.

Bonus Pick: Fall Out Boy - Infinity On High

For the first bonus pick, I wanted to start off with an obvious one. I’ve talked about Fall Out Boy’s third album, 2007’s Infinity On High quite a lot. This is the album that got me into music, and to make a long story short, I had listened to a few alternative albums beforehand, but I didn’t truly get into music until I heard that record. This isn’t the first album I picked up, but it was the most impacting one, because it truly blew my mind. This is still my favorite album, although it’s interchangeable with Michael Jackson’s Thriller, but this record really opened my eyes to how unique and awesome music can be, especially alternative, emo, and and pop-punk. I can say so much more about it, but this is the album that truly started it all for me. Little did I know that picking this album up at Target on the weekend of its release that it would change my life.

Fall Out Boy - Take This To Your Grave

I’ve had a tumultuous relationship with the first couple of Fall Out Boy records, especially 2003’s Take This To Your Grave. Back before I would just order stuff online, or download music on iTunes, I would only buy music through retail stores, like Target, Best Buy, and Walmart. I remember finding Take This To Your Grave at Walmart for $9 back in 2012, and while I was a huge fan of them, I didn’t know their early stuff too well, especially their debut. I picked it up, and I absolutely fell in love with it.

Take This To Your Grave is the record that introduced me to the early 00s pop-punk scene, and it was a scene that I only vaguely knew. I was a little too young for it, but hearing their debut was mindblowing. In retrospect, Take This To Your Grave is a hardcore album disguised as a pop-punk album, because it has the ethos and energy of a hardcore record, but the songwriting of a pop-punk album. As a kid in my late teens when I really sunk my teeth into it, and with the “defend pop-punk” movement being huge, this record (and many more like it) worked for me. The lyrics just spoke to me, but I’ve always been a sucker for Wentz’s lyricism.

Over time, however, my relationship with the album soured a bit, partially because my taste in music was becoming more removed from the current pop-punk scene (and reckoning with the fact that a lot of that scene was very misogynistic, including some lyrics on the first couple Fall Out Boy albums), so I wasn’t as into them, and I championed more of the later work, as well as some of the post-hiatus albums. It’s come full circle now, because I really love Take This To Your Grave, warts and all. This is a record made by kids that just loved hardcore and pop-punk, so if you look at it as anything more, it’s doing the record a disservice.

Paramore - Riot

My first experience with Paramore wasn’t with 2007’s Riot, but it was with 2005’s All We Know Is Falling. That was the first album I downloaded on iTunes, back when iTunes was just exploding, but I somehow lost the album (I think it was due to losing my first account, or my hard drive crashed, something like that). I listened to the album pretty soon after, but in between that, Riot was released. Riot is the album that blew Paramore up to the upper echelons of the emo and pop-punk scene, and for good reason. I’m pretty sure I got this album at Walmart, but this record was the soundtrack to the summer of 2007. It came out right before my freshman year of high school, so I played it a lot.

Between Hayley Williams’ vocals improving tenfold between the debut and Riot, their sound having more of a “mainstream” sound, and emo / pop-punk being at the crux of its popularity, this record came out at the right time. It was lightning in a bottle, but they were truly something special. This record has some of the best hooks and vocal performances of any band in that scene at this time, rivaling Fall Out Boy and My Chemical Romance (the scene’s two biggest bands at that time, arguably). This is just a monster of a record, and one of the most pivotal and important records from that time, and it’s cool to see people still talking about them all these years later. They just won the first Grammy earlier this year for their 2023 record, so it’s awesome to see that success pay off.

The Academy Is - Almost Here

One of the most underrated bands in the emo / pop-punk scene of the 00s is Chicago’s The Academy Is. These guys didn’t get their time in the spotlight, or at the very least, they skirted with fame at the same level as labelmates and friends in Fall Out Boy. It feels like highway robbery almost, because their sound was just as good. Their first two albums really changed my life, but for different ways. I wanted to focus on their debut album, 2005’s Almost Here, because this album is arguably the more influential album compared to 2007’s Santi. Santi was a more eclectic and interesting album, but Almost Here was more influential, because it was a big influence to the mainstream rise to emo and pop-punk.

Vocalist William Beckett is one of my favorite frontmen of the scene, too, and he has such a good voice, especially here. Almost Here is a really catchy, clever, and accessible emo record that surely should have been bigger, but oddly wasn’t. I don’t know what happened, other than that the scene was just too saturated. There were just too many bands out there, and that’s one reason the scene began to disappear from the mainstream. There were so many bands that were vying for peoples’ attentions, but Almost Here is one of the best records of that era that not a lot of people, at least outside of people who were a huge fan of the scene itself, have heard.

Bayside - The Walking Wounded

Contrary to the belief of what “elder emo” TikTokers will tell you, there are more bands in the scene than Fall Out Boy, Paramore, MCR, and Panic. The scene is so much bigger than what you saw in the mainstream, and a lot of it began in New York, including the band Bayside. These guys got pretty big in the early to mid 00s, even playing some late night shows (a lot of bands did, which was super cool), and they’re still around now, but they’re not on the level they once were.

My introduction to them was 2007’s The Walking Wounded, which was their third album, but I found them through an Alternative Press compilation of with an acoustic version of a song from that album. I picked up the album, because I really enjoyed the song, especially Anthony Raneri’s lyrics and vocals, and the album surprised me quite a bit when I heard a pop-punk album with heavier guitar riffs than your average pop-punk album. This remains my favorite album from them today, although their newest album from this year is great, too, and really reminds me of the inventiveness I heard on that record. It showed me that pop-punk can be both catchy and heavy at the same time, and the record still rules today.

Forever The Sickest Kids - Underdog Alma Mater

In the late 00s, a lot of the emo / pop-punk in the mainstream started to disappear, and popularity waned for that style, despite a few bands still being popular. Paramore, Fall Out Boy, Panic, and MCR still reigned as kings and queens of the genre. A new challenger emerged, at least in the underground, and that was neon pop-punk. Retrospectively named for its bright and colorful aesthetic, as well as how catchy and pop-focused the music was, neon pop-punk was the early 00s pop-punk fun-loving cousin that didn’t really take itself too seriously.

One of the most important albums of that movement, and while it’s probably not the first album that you could call neon pop-punk, Forever The Sickest Kids’ debut album, 2008’s Underdog Alma Mater, is a big moment for the genre. This album is catchy, slick, energetic, fun, and a little immature at times, but it also doesn’t take itself seriously and knows what it is. I always loved this record, because as catchy and synth-laden as their music, they had some good hooks and riffs to match. They were more than just a vapid pop-punk / pop-rock band, and this record shows it. They should have been a lot bigger, but they kind of fumbled the bag by releasing mediocre albums after and then just disappearing by the 2010s, so it’s unfortunate, but their debut is still one of my favorite albums from the scene.

New Found Glory - Sticks & Stones

Outside of Take This To Your Grave, I wasn’t familiar with a lot of early 00s pop/punk and emo, but where that album got me into that style of pop-punk, New Found Glory’s 2002 record, Sticks & Stones solidified it. Funnily though, this wasn’t the first NFG album I heard, that would be 2009’s Not Without A Fight, but it took me a few years to go back in their discography and listen to the album with their most iconic song “My Friends Over You.” This is easily one of my favorite 00s pop-punk records, and it’s kinda for that song alone. This record is so much fun, and it’s one of the first examples of easycore, where pop-punk and hardcore breakdowns met. You can hear it on this record a lot, and it’s awesome, but even after listening to this album for the first time in over a decade, I still enjoy it quite a bit.

Taking Back Sunday - Tell All Your Friends

Taking Back Sunday is one of the OG pop-punk and emo bands of the 00s, including New Found Glory, but I found their debut album, 2002’s Tell All Your Friends through word of mouth almost. This album was my all my favorite bands’ favorite album, especially in the 2010s “defend pop-punk” scene. Tell All Your Friends was a generation before mine, as I was too young when this record came out, but when I heard it, it blew my mind. I kept thinking, “This is what my favorite bands are influenced by? This is great!” There are loads of catchy hooks, one-liners, and mosh-ready instrumentation galore. These guys really helped to bring a new style of pop-punk to the forefront and you can hear the influence in a lot of records afterwards.

Panic! At The Disco - A Fever You Can’t Sweat Out

Panic! At The Disco’s debut album, 2005’s A Fever You Can’t Sweat Out, is lightning in a bottle; this record could only have come out in the mid-00s. It has a really unique sound, especially for the time, but it helped to catapult emo to the mainstream. Hell, “I Write Sins” is one of the biggest songs from that era, and it’ll be a song that people always remember, let alone gets played at emo nights across the country. Fever is such an iconic record, but it’s also a unique and interesting album that showcases Panic wanting to aim higher in terms of emo and pop-punk. The album is split into two halves — an electronic first half and a baroque pop second half, but it doesn’t feel jarring or strange.

It’s funny, because I remember downloading only a few songs from this album at first on iTunes back in 2007. I found the band through the Alternative Press compilation I’ve mentioned over and over again. I heard a live version of album closer “Build God, Then We’ll Talk,” and I loved it. I ended up listening to the rest of the album sometime later, but Fever is still such an iconic and nostalgic album for me. It still holds up all these years later, too, especially for its unique sound.

MCR - The Black Parade

Talk about another nostalgic album, because The Black Parade is very much another album that defined not only my adolescence, but the entire scene during the mid-00s. Fall Out Boy, Paramore, Panic! At The Disco, and My Chemical Romance were the big four of the scene at the time, but The Black Parade is really what cemented MCR on that list. Their first two albums were a darker version of the emo and pop-punk sounds that came slightly before them, and during their rise, but The Black Parade was a new sound entirely. Dubbed the emo Queen, these guys made an emo rock opera that really justified that description.

This record is huge, expansive, melodramatic, fun, dark, poignant, and incredibly interesting in all facets. I just absolutely love this record. I don’t remember how I found them, because I found them at the same time as Panic and Fall Out Boy (Paramore came last, as I found All We Know Is Falling a bit before Riot came out), but I was obsessed with this record as a kid. It’s one of those rare albums that I can listen to as an adult and still appreciate what it does on a purely technical and artistic level, because there are a lot of nuances that I didn’t pick up back then. It’s easily their best album to me, despite how they only put one more and disappeared (they still haven’t put out another album despite coming back a few years ago), and it’s the one that I always go back to.

The Cab - Whisper War

For my last pick, I wanted to include another “neon” album, but a bit of an obscure pick. The Cab were a band that were heavily involved with Fueled By Ramen, as well as Pete Wentz’s Decaydance imprint, even including both Patrick Stump and Brendon Urie on the main single for their debut album, 2008’s Whisper. Called “One Of THOSE Nights,” the song showcased what they were all about, and they had a really unique R&B and soulful take on neon pop-punk. Their vocalist had a lot of range, and reminded me a ton of Patrick Stump, but I just fell in love with how catchy and groovy that album was (and still is). It showed me that pop-punk could utilize more outside influences, and while The Cab never got as huge as the bands that they clearly were inspired by, they had a rather dedicated following in the scene, but they just never got as big as they really should have.

[happiest-home-designer]

Restructuring Sunbrook a bit, not sure how far I'll go. Chopping down (a few) trees but leaving the stumps, in my ancient ruins area. I want to remove / redo my gardens, but my northernmost gardens are HUGE and I don't know what sort of furniture to put in their place. Pipes are being moved, maybe - I took one down before my current DA went live and recently moved one from the southwest beach to behind my house, but I may put them back. I also have a pipe IN my house that I'll probably move, especially if I don't move the one behind it. I need to clean up the date spot on the cliff behind the museum, and might replace the pipe there with a vine, since I have vines all over Sunbrook. I dunno. We'll see.

[starredeclipse]

Alone on an adventure….hi Jax… (TADC OC story)

(I don’t know if this story is going to be canon or what for Posie so for now this is just a silly story I felt like writing so enjoy. In case you don’t know what Posie looks like I’ll show an image, I don’t have other art of her so this is old art thats been on my blog in the past.)

She sighed deeply as she sat on the ground “This is….just great..” she mumbled to herself, she got sucked into another one of Caine’s silly adventures and now…she got separated from the group!

She was in the basement of a desert temple….at least that’s what she thinks it’s supposed to be, she had fallen through a trap door after Jax stepped on a trigger switch in the floor! She swears he did it on purpose like a lot of the things he does, it annoyed her greatly. The tip of her long tail thumped against the sand as she frustratedly wanted to get out of here but the only door required two people in order to operate and try as she might she just couldn’t activate the other switch at the same time…..which was the requirement to open the door “Maybe if I wait long enough the adventure will be over and Caine will just pop me back to the circus…” that was wishful thinking but it would probably take a long while….a long and painfully boring long time.

Luckily she didn’t have to wait long for something to happen, the ears poking through her hat suddenly perked up at the sound of screaming followed by the sudden muffled thump as something landed on the sand, she only had to turn slightly to see what it was “Oh its you” Posie mumbled “fantastic” under her breath as Jax got up shaking the sand out of his ears and clothes “like I’m glad to see you’re face again” the purple rabbit shot back in his usual fashion, she rolled his eyes at him as he looked around “So uh no way out huh?” He went on but Posie didn’t respond to his question, she just got up like they had beef and grabbed his arm practically dragging him over to the door “Hey! Hey! Watch the merchandise! Quit man handling me!” Jax snapped with protest before she let go leaving him in front of the switch while she went over to her side “what? Giving me the silent treatment now?” He said trying to get a reaction out of her but all he received was a “we have to do this at the same time in order to open the door unless you would like to be stuck down here” in a neutral tone that just seemed to scratch at Jax in a irritating way “Yeah, whatever….” He paused not wanting to be stuck down here, timing this wasn’t the easiest when one of them had the timing of a goldfish but eventually the door opened, Posie ran through the door “Hey! Wait for me!” She heard his voice echo off of the walls but she didn’t slow down.

By the time Jax ran down the hall and up a comical amount of stairs Posie was sitting in a garden reluctantly waiting for him, not that she had a choice. He wheezed as if he was out of shape sputtering “what happened to waiting for me!?” At her but she just crossed her arms “I never said I would wait…” she came off more pissed this time “what’s your problem???” Jax thumped a single foot unconsciously as he spat out the words, he was mad and frustrated now.

Posie leaned back against the stump “Oh I don’t know…..why don’t you tell me” she sounded like she was hinting to something but refused to give hints, he grumbled gathering himself before he walked over looking at the flowers and vines crawling up the walls “How would I know?? That’s why I asked!” His eyes landed sharply on her but she wasn’t one to back down from such a look “let me jog you’re memory” she got up going to one of the huge flowers and removing a orb from it before she shoved it into Jax’s arms and left to go sit back at the stump.

He hissed from the force before he looked at the orb and saw an image in it, said image displayed a memory if looked at long enough “seriously???” He grumbled tossing the orb aside like it was trash “that’s what you’re so peeved off?” He laughed a little bit to himself more satisfied with knowing how much it bothered her “Come on, it was a joke” he said more casually like it wasn’t a big deal at all “A joke!?” She raised her voice to a sharp volume before she paused letting her volume simmer “It was cruel” she spat before Jax walked past without a care over to a set of doors that was weird “Yeah yeah” he moved on to the task at hand “whats with the round slots in the door?” Surely it was meant to have something in it “Step on that plate and take a guess” Posie said bitterly, he looked around before he saw a gold square metal plate in the floor, he went over and stepped on it, magically a round screen popped up in front of him with instructions “Oh thats great….” He said with sarcasm before he stepped off the plate.

They had to work together to find enough memory orbs to put in the door, only it had to be the memories of two different people and if there was too many negative memories something bad would happen as the door was based on positivity and thats the only way it would open, this would be a easy task for the others but for Jax? Bet a lot of his positive memory’s would register as negative ones instead probably…..”well time to get hunting I guess” the gathering of the orbs wasn’t the hard part, many of the plants had them.

The hard part was the memory themselves, all the memories Jax had put in for his side of the door flashed red and got spat out, he jumped out of the way just barely before a rock fell and proceeded to faze through the ground right after as if it wasn’t coded right “what the hey!?!” He complained as Posie sat there, all the slots on her door were green showing all the positive memory’s she made with her friends since coming to the circus “The instructions were clear, no negative memory’s” she repeated what the instructions said making Jax thoroughly annoyed even more than he already was “all those memory’s were positive!” He spat crossing his arms and not budging like some kid having a tantrum, she let out a deep sigh and retrieved one of Jax’s memory orbs “No they weren’t” she showed him the orb and he reluctantly looked at it “This memory might have been positive for you but it holds negativity in it from the other person in the memory, the memory’s can’t have ANY negativity in it” all the times Gangle had been upset in Jax’s memory’s seems to have come to bite him in the flank as most of the orbs had her in it, usually being the victim of a joke or prank “That’s #!$@#” the swear got censored with a series of car honks and goose sounds for a brief moment “Yeah well hurry up and find some orbs where nobody is part in them so we can get out of here” she went back to sitting on the stump while Jax annoyedly went searching for his memory orbs trying to find ones that the door approved of, he kept shoving orbs in the door only for them to get spat back out and Jax having to dodge another rock, this went on repeat for a while before he gave up, he knows he has positive memory’s…..he just hasn’t found ones this door approves of. “Giving up already?” She barely looked at him before she dodged a orb suddenly getting thrown her way “Guess we are waiting then” and wait they did……

They waited a boring while, Jax looked miserable but Posie was looking through some of her orbs remembering the good times and trying not to look at the unpleasant ones before finally the adventure was over, they both tumbled back into the circus in a matter of minutes, Jax landed on his face while Posie just tucked in and rolled like a ball only being stopped by Pomni as she rolled into her “Well that was uneventful” the voice of Caine made her unroll and get up with some help, this adventure had been another flop “Maybe you shouldn’t have made a door open based on memory’s” Posie suggested but she knew her words would go through one ear and out the other metaphorical one “hm noted” Caine replied before he went off talking about something before disappearing, honestly everyone kind of just tuned the rat of what he said out for a moment.

Posie turned to the rest of the cast “So what was your run like?” She asked them and the answer was the same amount of chaos you would expect from Caines adventures “We had to escape a pit of snakes and run away from sand vampires by running across stepping stones without falling in the sand” Pomni replied and Ragatha added “Don’t forget when we got to the end we had to put a orange in the door in order to open it” that bit made zero sense “where was the orange?” The Bunaroo asked her “Oh in the pit of snakes, yeah if Pomni hadn’t grabbed it we would have had to run all the way back there to get it in order to open the door” it sounded like a terrible joke but she was being serious “Okay, what about you Kinger?” He blinked at her scratching his head like he couldn’t recall but luckily Gangle was very helpful “we were in a maze” Zooble nodded “Yeah it sucked” they added “We had to find our way to the end but everything looked the same so we weren’t able to” Gangle went on feeling like there time in the maze was frustrating but uneventful “Why did we get stuck with the bad stuff?” Pomni whispered to Ragatha who just shrugged, once they all got separated in the starting area it kind of just went downhill from there.

“Well our time was just as boring” Posie said as Jax got himself off the ground “Yeah, it sucked” he rubbed his face “anyways I’m going to go find the others, I’ll see you later” she told the others as she started leaving, Jax perked his ears when he heard Posie mutter “Do you even regret what you did?” He rolled his eyes but said with confidence “Not even a wink” he noticed he hands tightened into fists but she just kept walking not losing her cool just yet, she had a lot to unpack with her friends right now…

[scribblelark]

The Mage and the Dragon

Moonlight poured through the circular window high up on the wall and pooled on the black marble floor. After ten minutes, the pool of moonlight filled the entire floor of the room, which was the width of an ordinary house.

The centre of the pool began to ripple outwards, as though a stone had been dropped into it, then it humped upwards and after a moment the tip of a scaly snout pushed up from within the pool of moonlight. Wide nostrils and an even wider mouth came first, then an elongated snout, then the rest of a reptilian face, until it was quite clear that a large dragon was pulling itself from the pool.

The dragon could have been any shade as the only light came from the pool of moonlight on the floor, which had leeched the colour from the room, painting the dragon’s scaly form in shades of grey.

Eventually, the dragon entirely hauled itself out of the pool of moonlight and lay on the black marble floor, its sides heaving as it panted from the effort of dragging itself into this realm of reality.

As it stirred a crackle of warmth and energy started to build up in the room and as it increased, the pool of moonlight beside which it lay gradually evaporated, until finally there was nothing on the floor except a fifteen metre long dragon.

The tall, oaken doors at the far end of the room, opposite the wall where the high window was letting in the pale light of the dawn of a new day, creaked slowly open and a stooped figure which propped itself upright on an ebony cane came slowly into the room.

“Finally,” breathed the figure, its voice cracked with either age or disuse, or perhaps both. “You’re here.”

I am here, agreed the dragon, its voice soundless in the still air of the room, but its words heavy and clear in the figure’s mind. It has been a long journey. And a hard one.

“Yes,” agreed the mage, for such they were. “For both of us. Will you come forth and eat with me?”

I will. The dragon lifted itself onto its feet, its movement as lithe as any cat’s, and padded lightly after the mage, through the double doors and into a large courtyard at the rear of the Hall in which it had appeared.

In the centre of the courtyard a huge bonfire blazed, its heat warming the bitter chill in the winter dawn air. The dragon glanced sideways at the mage, who gave a swift, sharp nod, then it plunged its face into the centre of the bonfire for several long minutes before lifting its head, flames licking over its scales and down the length of its neck. Crunching sounds issued from the direction of the dragon’s head and golden sparks shot into the air, lighting up the still gloomy courtyard.

The mage sank down onto a sawn off tree stump and pulled open a pouch at their waist to remove thick slices of bread spread with butter and golden honey. They ate heartily, watching the dragon, then drank from a flagon of mead with the absentmindedness of a mage contemplating the successful completion of a long and complicated magical working.

“How are you feeling, friend?” asked the mage once they had eaten their simple repast.

“Stronger,” answered the dragon, its voice like a low rumble of thunder in the quiet air.

“Good,” said the mage with evident satisfaction in their voice.

The dragon settled back on its haunches, its head tilted up to the sky. “And what would you have me do now, Draca Rǣran?”

“Do?” repeated the mage, seeming startled by the question, or perhaps by the title bestowed on them by the dragon, though Dragon Rearer was an accurate title for the mage.

“Why have you raised me up here in this place?” asked the dragon. “You must have done so for a reason.”

“I did it to prove that I could,” answered the mage. “And because I didn’t think it was right for the Witenagemot to banish you and your kind as they did over a century ago.” The mage shook their head. “I’m only sorry no one tried to bring you back sooner.”

“They did,” the dragon said. “They died for it, however. As did those of my kind who were brought forth until only I remained there.”

The mage made a shocked sound of dismay. “You’re the last of your kind?” they asked angrily.

“I am. And are you not the last of yours?”

The mage didn’t bother to ask how the dragon knew that; their minds had been linked for many decades, ever since the mage had first discovered the place known as Black Monster Hall. They had been all of seventeen then, much too young, and inexperienced in the Old High Magic that was needed to bring forth the Last of the Dragons. In the years since their discovery of the Hall, the mage had outlived all their contemporaries, or else they had given up the Art in order to find better paying work, and the Elders of the Art had died long ago, leaving them as the last practitioner of a mostly forgotten Art.

“So you rescued me because you could,” the dragon observed.

The mage snorted. “I rescued you to prove I could. You must have realised by now that Mages are vain and arrogant creatures, proud of their Mastery of the Art?”

“True,” agreed the dragon.

“But I also rescued you because the banishment of the entire race of dragons because of the evils of one of them was an unjust punishment and I do not tolerate injustice to any.”

The dragon rumbled its agreement about the punishment. “What do you intend to do now then, Draca Rǣran? Your people will not thank you for bringing dragons back, even if there is only one of me and I am no hatchling.”

“I’m staying here,” the mage said. “This is the only home I have had for the last forty three years.”

“Do you intend to tell others what you have achieved?”

“No. I have kept a journal recording all of the many spells which I used to bring you back, but since I’m the only one with the knowledge to use those spells and since there are no more dragons in Dracorewme, then no one will be able to do anything with the knowledge in the journal.” They sighed. “It would have been nice to have someone to tell –”

“To boast to?” suggested the dragon in a sly tone.

The mage snorted again. “Very well, yes. It would have been nice to have someone to boast to of my success, but as they’re all long gone, I shall simply remain here, living out the remainder of my days in peace and quiet. It will be good to rest from my years of labour.”

“Perhaps you will permit me to remain with you?” asked the dragon, and the mage wondered a little at the diffidence they heard in the dragon’s voice.

“Gladly,” they said firmly.

And so it was that they lived out the rest of their lives together in amicable companionship.

After the passing of the mage and the dragon the Hall fell into ruin, and though none had known of the dragon which had lived there, the hill where the Hall had stood came to be known as Drakelow, or Dragon’s Mound, in later years.

(I saw the name Drakelow Hall on a map and wrote a flash fic backstory to explain its name. 'cos that's the way my Bitch Muse works!)

Thanks to @thisbluespirit for the prompt beta!