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Sixteenth Day Event Prompt:

Quackity attends a royal wedding

he misses his (ex) fiances :/

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2012 was a simpler time

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listen, fuck "to each their own", sometimes your mutual gets into some batshit insane rarepair that they're a little embarrassed about and it becomes your sworn duty to put on your jester bells and jingle jangle proudly by their side for moral support. don't be a pussy. it's ride or die motherfucker

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best friends

Frames:

Default - Prospit - Trickster Mode

Yuri - Godtier/Doomed TL - HS^2

Promstuck - Boyfriendleaders - Kismesisstuck

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WIKI EDITOR WEDNESDAY

This week's appreciation post goes out to User:Atthebell ( @atthebell ) , who singlehandedly carried the QSMP Global ARG page to greatness!!

This page recaps the global ARG in stunning detail, with transcribed text of the puzzles supplemented by images from the ARG and Cellbit's annotated screenshots.

I love this page, especially as someone who wasn't following along in real time when it was first being solved. Whether you also missed it and are curious about the puzzles or you were there and want to relive the glory, this page is definitely worth checking out!

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"As a friend I'm telling you, don't."

"As a friend I'm telling you, trust me."

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"Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me."

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Two Sides Of The Same Coin

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A Special Someone

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this man, I swear

(source: grian's insta)

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who up evil scheming rn

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Now also posted on AO3

QSMP drabble, Phil & Etoiles & the code shield

/rp

“Phiiiil. You are ignoring me. Stop making blocks. Hit me with sticks instead.”

“Hey!” Phil barks. “Stop interrupting me. You don’t look away while you’re using a stonecutter. They’ll chop your fingers clean off.”

Etoiles stops his parkouring, intrigued. “Really?”

“Yes. The life of a builder is very exciting.”

Etoiles laughs. “I thought what the shield does is bad enough.”

He realizes his mistake a minute too slowly, as Phil’s expression changes. He considers lying some more, doubling down, but then he remembers that Phil is smart, maybe he’ll know something.

 Hell, Phil could even end up bearing the shield himself at some point - if Etoiles dies, it’s who he’d think to bequeath it to. Phil should know the details.

“...Etoiles, what does the shield do?” Phil asks, after a moment, like he's caught him out, which to be fair, he has. His eyes are still locked on his handiwork. (God, Etoiles loves this guy.)

“It's not that bad. It makes my arm go numb. And code comes out.”

“...It makes your arm go numb and corrupt and you didn’t think you should stop using it.”

“No, no no no, listen, let me show you.” Phil stops working and stands up. Etoiles conjures the shield onto his arm. The static sets in instantly, like he's elbow-deep in another dimension, but it's not even strange anymore. “Hit me.”

Phil rolls his eyes. But he pulls out his best axe and takes a colossal swing at Etoiles, fuck yeah, that’s what Etoiles likes about him, that when Etoiles says to hit him, he’s not fucking around with a stick or an iron sword or whatever, he knows he can take it. That makes his point better too. Etoiles catches it on the shield, easily. 

“Okay, look,” he says. “I haven’t moved.”

“Right, no Knockback - ”

“No, see, I haven’t moved at all. Look, I’m not even braced. I’m like - I’m like if a guy was just standing here!”

Phil snorts.

Etoiles goes on: “Normally if you swing a sword, I should stagger. Even if I’m braced, I’m still putting the force into the ground, so I should move a little. But when you hit this shield, I think it takes all that energy inbound and just deletes it. It’s gone. I think that’s the magic of the shield, that nothing can happen around it.”

Phil is looking at the edge of his sword. It’s an interesting question, actually, whether he’s lost durability or not, Etoiles hasn’t thought to grab someone and check  -

“Okay, so how does that lead to your arm going numb? ...Oh, like you’re saying if it’s, fucking - ” Phil starts putting the pieces together.

“Yeah, it’s deleting the sensation.” Etoiles puts the shield away. “Yeah, look.” Sure enough, neon strings of raw data creep up and down his arm.

“WHOA!” Phil yells. Then he leans in, horrified and curious. “Jesus christ.” After watching the data pulse, he puts his fingers to the bridge of his nose and looks very dire indeed. “...And how sure are you that it isn’t deleting your data?”

“It goes away after a few minutes. And my arm is fine and nothing is missing.”

Phil relaxes a little. “Then where’s that data from?”

“I have two ideas. One is that it’s data from the hits, that the information the shield deletes comes back out like this. Or two, it’s data from inside the shield. The shield is broken and was put back together, you can see, so either way, I think maybe it wasn’t supposed to do this. It’s probably supposed to just cancel out from one side. But really, it’s no problem. I go back to normal afterwards. It’s like, uh, you know when you fall asleep on your arm?”

“...Yeah, yeah, okay.”

“It comes back.”

“Yeah. Sure. Okay. Does it do the, uh, the fucking, pins and needles thing too?”

“Yeah. Exactly. It’s exactly like that.”

Phil takes Etoiles’ hand to examine it. Etoiles can't look away. It’s still all static and Etoiles is almost glad except for how he wonders what it would feel like to die and he thinks that the more he felt this, Phil holding his hand tenderly and curiously, the closer he'd feel to death. He watches Phil bend his fingers, look between them to see where the code is. Numb, it's dreamlike and disconcerting.

“It was like this from the first time you used it?”

“No, it’s, uh, I didn’t notice at first.”

“So, it’s gotten worse over time.”

Son of a bitch. “Well Phil, when you say it like that, it makes me look bad.” Etoiles laughs.

“It’s not you.” Phil squeezes his fingers and Etoiles could swear he does feel that, the pressure, nerves deep down or something. It’s electric. “Look, I,  uh - I get why you’re not stopping. The code wants to kill kids. And because of the shield and this busted-ass sword it got its hands on, now it’s just you. If I had that thing, no way in hell I’d be letting go of it. I mean, fuck.”

“Ohhh,” Etoiles sighs, “Thank god. I think if Baghera or Antoine see this, they’ll be like: you idiot, stop using it, it’s your own fault if you die.”

Phil smiles, thin, wry. “What do you tell them?”

“I don’t. I wait for it to go away before they see.”

“Shit, man.”

“Yeaaaaah.”

“...Well, that’s enough fuckin’ feelings. You want a stick fight? Maybe I'll get a win while you're distracted.”

“Yeaaaaah!”

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I put this bad boy on AO3:

(I'll be doing this with other QSMP ficlets I posted here on tumblr, as I get around to it)

2023-09-28 QSMP drabble /rp

Pac wakes up in the morning and doesn’t know where he is. He is terrified when he sees that the floor below him is magically reinforced. When he hears a noise, he jumps. He pushes himself up – and sees Bagi in a little kitchen, cooking. He's on a sleeping bag and covered in a blanket too. His leg is right beside him. Touching the floor, he sees that it’s not claimed by the nameless island-admin, like the cage floor, what he feared – the metaphysical signature is Bagi’s. This is the safehouse she told him about.

There’s an orange cat licking itself by a furnace. There’s a pig sleeping in the corner.

“Hi Pac,” Bagi says, when she spots him sitting up.

“Hi, Bagi,” Pac says. “Did you bring me here?”

“I found you passed out on the floor of the warehouse last night. You kind of woke up but you were super out of it. I was scared Bad would find you. So I just – yeah. We warped here.”

Pac nods and grimaces. “I think you saved me again. Thank you.”

“I’m glad I could. We have to do something about Bad. I don’t know what he did but that was risky. What do you think?”

Pac hugs a blanket around his shoulders. The room is rugged, unfinished. There are unmined ores in the stone walls. He can't think. “I don’t know,” he says. “I want to see Mike.”

Bagi nods. “Then I’ll go with you," she decides. "Breakfast first, though.”

In the corner kitchen, Pac watches Bagi slice open a raw salmon. She pulls out the guts and slices sheets of meat off the bone. The strips go into a hot frying pan. She cracks in four eggs, one after the other. “This’ll be done in a minute,” she tells him. “Sorry, I don’t have coffee here. We could go to Starbobby’s? After this? And then the infirmary, if Mike’s still there.”

“Okay,” he says. “That seems good. ...Can I help?”

Bagi waves a hand. “Sit, sit. I’m just making Zeno’s breakfast.”

The smell of frying fish fills the small, cozy room. Bagi cuts up another smaller fish up for her cat. Pac watches her, how carefully she removes the bones, how she maneuvers the knife away from her fingers. How practiced she is in each stroke.

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i was struck by a sudden burst of inspiration

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I just think trolls should have rainbow skeletons and know she's the only troll who would appreciate this like I do