#50 Foot Tall Woman

[triplexmile]

A while ago I made a height chart for characters, and just to be goofy, I made a "50 Foot Harley Quinn".

We're all used to kaiju like Godzilla being 400 feet tall or more, so 50 feet doesn't seem that big, but it really is! (Wolverine is tiny!)

[hislittleraincloud]

You know what would be funny...

...if Burton cast Ortega for Attack of the 50 Foot Woman.

Think she'd do it?

🕵🏽‍♂️🕵🏽‍♂️🕵🏽‍♂️🕵🏽‍♂️🕵🏽‍♂️

[dlyarchitecture]

[cynthiaandsamus]

Apparently there's a glitch in the Pokemon Masters Photo Editor that lets you make Lusamine and only Lusamine a 50 foot tall giant woman

Source

[your-averagewriter]

"Only for you, darlin'"

Summary: Cooper heads into town in search for some RadAway for you when he stumbles upon a cute gift (Cooper Howard x fem!reader).

Word count: 1.0K

Warnings: needles, kissing (slightly ig)

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Stalking through the desert, he heads towards the town in search of some RadAway for you, the radiation reaching too high of a level for Cooper to be comfortable with, especially in his presence.

His boots echo through the makeshift tunnel made of old tubing before sunlight peaks out of the other end, exposing the market on the other side, countless signs decorating the stalls. He pulls his hat down slightly in order to cover his irradiated face more, less because some people find it unsettling and more so people don’t recognise he’s a ghoul.

He walks along the stalls, searching for any RadAway and some other supplies that need topping up. 

Signs stick out to him yet none offer what he needs until he reaches a store with various niche medical supplies as well as bandages and the like. Walking up to the store, he looks over the small bottles and pills decorating the side but doesn't see anything Stimpaks or RadAway.

“Ay,” He gets the attention of the store owner. “You got any RadAway?” He asks, looking up at the man covered in shredded clothes. He shakes his head before looking down at what looks like an old graphic novel. “You sure? I got plenty of caps.”

“How many?” He asks, accent showing he’s not from around here.

“Plenty.” He reinterrates, shaking his bag causing the rattling of the caps and the man puts the graphic novel down, heading further into the shop before returning with a pouch of liquid with a strip of duct tape on, scraggly writing on it.

“I keep it in the back, people nick this stuff the most. 50 caps.” 

Cooper scoffs. “50?” He asks, confusion mixed with annoyance in his voice. “30.”

“45.” He counters. “And I’ll throw in a Stimpak.”

“Fine” Cooper counters and the seller sighs before pushing it towards him whilst Copper pushes the caps on the side. “And you got the good deal there, you should feel lucky I’m willing to pay for this.” He snatches it from the side, rolling his eyes before moving on to finding other items but glad he’s got what he came for.

Strolling through the town, he looks in the store windows, something catching his eye in a junk store. He pushes open the door, a bell ringing making him wonder if it’s a trap but why would there be a trap when someone is trying to sell junk?

“Hey darlin’, feel free to take a look around.” An old woman says, crazy hair covering most of her face making him feel uneasy that he can barely see her eyes. He nods before heading towards the window display, boots hitting the wooden planks underfoot noisily as they creak.

A toy rabbit sits in the window, no more than a foot tall with fluffy ears and a cute nose. He swipes at it, examining it and dusting it off before looking for some sort of price label.

“How much for this?” He turns to face the woman who pushes her glasses up, scrunching her nose as she squints at the item.

“8 caps, but for you 4. Who’s this for?” He pulls out another five caps and drops them on the table before carefully putting the bunny in his bag, making sure it’s tucked in and the clasp is shut properly. He pulls on the latch, checking its security. Secure. 

“My girl, she loves bunnies. Thanks.” He grumbles, walking out the store and off to the base again.

He walks back through the desert, kicking the sand as he goes, mumbling to himself and even whistling slightly. He lifts his hand to keep the sun out of his face as the base appears in his field of vision. Base is a strong word for a couple of broken down buildings just by the trees that are more secure than you would think. It provides cover and hides flames when it gets cold.

He can’t help the edges of his lips quirking up at the sight of the base and his girl.

Under an hour later, he returns to the base, stepping through the ‘door’. “Sweetheart?” He yells through the base.

“Cooper, that you?” You ask, sweet voice ringing through the walls.

“‘Course it’s me.” He grins to himself, following your voice.

“I don’t know why you wouldn’t let me come with you.” You say before being interrupted by a cough. After moments of coughing, Cooper rubs your back and once you start speaking, he reaches into his bag.

“Did you get a Stim-” You start but he passes it to you with a brief kiss to the cheek. “Thanks.” You smile before looking down at the Stimpak wrapped in a cloth. Taking it out, your eyes are immediately on the needle, you take a pause and deep breath before injecting it into your thigh.

Letting out a breath, you drop the used Stimpak and look back to Cooper who wears a smirk, holding back a laugh.

“What are you laughing about?” You cock an eyebrow.

“You ain’t scared of no mutants, no raiders, nothing but needles.” He chuckles, his accent prominent. “It’s cute.” He says before remembering the bunny toy in his bag. “I got you something in town.” He says, rootling through his bag.

“More RadAway?” You ask, knowing his paranoia about you getting too much radiation when being around him. 

“Yeah, but I got you something else too.” He pulls the bunny out of his bag. “Now I know it ain’t much, but I saw it and thought you’d like it…” He presents the bunny, quickly brushing off some of the sand from the journey.

“Aww.” You can help but coo at the cute bunny, taking it off of him and holding it gently, picking up one of the ears and letting it flop back down. “You didn’t spend too much on it, did you?” You look back over to him.

“Y’know it’s rude to ask about someone’s finances, sweetheart.” He teases. “Besides, the lady gave it to me for cheap, probably knew I was getting it for my girl.”

“Probably knew you were a softie.” You tease.

“Only for you, darlin’.” He picks up your hand and leans down, kissing it playfully.

-

AN: I can't believe I haven't posted anything for over three months… sorry I've had exams and extra and it's just been stressful so hopefully I can get a bit more on track.

I hope you enjoyed reading!

[gayelderstourney]

OLD WOMAN YURI BRACKET ROUND 1

Propaganda:

Hanayo Nishida/Yoshiko Dojima:

This story is sooo sweet and heartfelt. I 1000% recommend it. I feel really bad though because it was recently canceled, even though the creator still wanted to keep making it. (#homophobic smh 😔 /j) It centers around a 66 year old newly-widowed woman named Hanayo, who is trying to find new purpose in her life after the passing of her spouse. Her husband was 12 years her senior and often treated her like a child and belittled her interests and hobbies… he was kind of a jerk, and because of this, Hanayo had internalized a lot of his comments and must now learn to undo this self-toxic mindset. She meets Yoshiko, an attractive older woman, who owns a make-up and perfume shop at the local mall, and is immediately smitten. Yoshiko and Hanayo bond over their love of make-up and the importance of self-care and appear to be developing a very lovely relationship right before the story unfortunately was ended. From what was given to us though, Schwinn was setting up interesting commentary on the intersections of ageism and misogyny, the value of support systems, as well as planting the seeds to explore the damage of comphet, and the journey of deconstructing such damage by finding queer love and joy later in life.

Navani Kholin/Raboniel:

Sorry submitted twice because I accidentally clicked the button instead of this text box. Navani’s in her mid 50s or 60s with multiple children, graying hair and wrinkle lines, Raboniel is an immortal ancient 12 foot tall crab woman who has died and come back so many times she’s nearly on the verge of developing immortality-related dementia. They’re both scholars but Navani is sort of repressed because of how her previous husband abused her and dismissed her interests, and Raboniel has antiquated views about their two species and how they can interact peacefully. Raboniel helps Navani come into herself as a scholar and scientist, while Navani helps Raboniel see that their war doesn’t need to lead to destruction: as she puts it “you say that oil and water don’t mix, but that’s not scientifically true. They’re different, but they can mix cleanly in the presence of an emulsifier” They hold hands and hum the tune of their souls in order to perform frequency combination science magic, they create a new form of light-energy together, Raboniel dies for the final time by Navani’s hand using a weapon they created together, and uses her final moments to protect Navani’s life. Absolute peak old woman yuri. Somehow they are not cannonically attracted to each other , despite the fact that everything I have described to you happens basically as is in the book. Insane how Brandon Sanderson can make the most accidentally queer characters in fiction.

Scientists working together but also against each other; their deep mutual understanding helps them make very cool new discoveries (in one scene they harmonize together to form a new "tone" - a sort of music with magical properties). The whole time there is so much tension as they are enemies (on different sides of the war), so they don't want to give the other too much advantage in terms of information/inventions.. raboniel wants to end the war (that has been going for thousands of years) by delivering a crushing defeat to the other side, navani wants to win (but is currently disadvantaged)… together they raise the idea of peace but despite wanting it know it wont happen… navani finds so much fulfillment in her research despite knowing it may (and does) aid the other side..

And they were labmates!

[numinousmysteries]

Dancing the Tandava (4/10)

[on Ao3] @today-in-fic

Geneva, Switzerland 2023

Hannah forgets William’s parents were coming to visit until she hears knocking on the door. She’s been up all night in a panic and is so tightly wound that the sound of the knock makes her whole body flinch.

Last night, she and William had been watching a movie on his laptop, both lying face down in his bed, propped up on their elbows. He has a nearly encyclopedic knowledge of old sci-fi and horror B-movies, and, after learning she’d never seen Plan 9 From Outer Space or Attack of the 50-Foot Woman, he’s made it his personal mission to expand her horizons. As aspiring physicists, they’ve made a game out of poking holes in the films' plots, but she can tell he genuinely enjoyed them.

They were midway through The Thing when William got a call. Dr. Bellona needed his assistance immediately for a special project at the large hadron collider. She heard William agree to come into the lab even though it didn’t make any sense. They were both research interns for Dr. Farber, whose office was next door to Bellona’s. Besides, interns aren’t certified or trained to work directly on the collider, and they’re never urgently needed at 9 p.m.

“Bellona?” she asked. “Didn’t you say you saw him doing something weird near the Shiva statue on your way home today?”

“Yeah,” William replied, getting out of bed. “I guess now I can ask him what he was up to.”

Hannah had a bad feeling. She bit her lower lip and tried to resist the impulse to pull him back onto the bed as he rose up.

She watched as he pulled a thick navy sweater over his gray t-shirt. A thin line of his toned abdomen peeked out as he lifted up his arms and she forced herself to look away. William is her best friend, the first person she’d ever met who could keep up with her in debates about loop quantum gravity. He’s also undeniably hot: Tall and lean, with piercing blue eyes, and a strong jawline. She teases him for being a jock because he played varsity basketball and baseball in high school, but she secretly appreciates his body as much as his mind.

They’re only friends, though—and roommates and co-workers but nothing more. They don’t talk about their dating lives, although based on how much time he spends either with her or at the lab she can’t imagine his is any more exciting than her own non-existent one. Sure, she feels an electric jolt whenever his hand grazes hers, but William Mulder could probably get any girl he wants. Well, maybe if he toned down his own nerdiness a little.

“I’ll be back soon,” he said, leaving her alone on his bed. Hannah groaned in protest but she could already hear the apartment door shutting behind him.

She waited up for him to return. An hour, then two, then three. She texted and called him but he didn’t respond. Finally at 1 a.m. she pulled a puffy coat over her pajamas, slipped on a pair of boots, and marched down to the ATLAS facility at CERN where she and William worked. She tapped her key card to the sensor at the door but it lit up red and didn’t open. When it failed two more times, she knocked at the door, getting the attention of a security guard she hadn’t seen before.

“Can I help you?” he asked, poking his head out the door into the cold night air.

“Um, I left something at my desk. I just wanted to come pick it up.”

“You’ll have to come back in the morning,” the security guard said sternly. “There’s been an incident and the entire facility is on lockdown.”

“An incident?” she asked, scrunching her brow in concern. It seemed too quiet for there to have been an accident at the facility. There were no sirens or crowds assembled. “What kind of incident?”

“Not sure,” he said. “But someone’s gone missing in the collider tunnel.”

“Missing?” she asked. It wasn’t possible. The large hadron collider was housed in an underground tunnel made of reinforced concrete. It was huge, nearly 17 miles in circumference, but entirely enclosed. There was nowhere for someone to go missing.

The guard just shrugged and started pulling the door closed.

“Wait—” she said, yanking the glass door back open. “Who is it?”

“An intern, they think,” he said. Then he shut the door.

Hannah’s bad feeling got a lot worse.

Back at the apartment, she spent the rest of the night texting other interns in their cohort to see if anyone knew what had happened, but everyone was either asleep or equally clueless.

When she heard the knock at the door she perked up, thinking it was William and he’d forgotten his keys. She didn’t expect to see his parents there instead. She met them once before, when she stayed at their home for a weekend over the summer. William’s mother, from whom he inherited his eyes and coloring, was a doctor and scientist, the kind of accomplished and serious woman she hoped to one day become herself. His father, who looked nearly exactly like an older version of William, was funny and, as William warned, did tell some strange stories but she found them fascinating. Hannah sat aghast as Mr. Mulder recalled a liver-eating monster, a telekinetic killer, and satanic PTA members. William and his mom only rolled their eyes, clearly having heard (or, in Dr. Scully’s case, lived through) these tales before.

Now, she watches as William’s mother’s face drops when she tells her he’s gone.

“Where is he?” his father shouts, cutting through her shock.

Hannah tries to answer, but she only starts crying harder. Dr. Scully drapes an arm around her and leads her to the living room sofa. The coffee table is cluttered with her and William’s books and notebooks and the remains of their takeout dinner from the night before. They would have cleaned up after the movie but then William was called away.

Hannah buries her head in her hands, trying to slow her hyperventilation, as Wlliam’s mom sits down next to her, rubbing her back. She’s ashamed to be such an emotional mess in front of them, but she can’t help it.

“Mulder, why don’t you get Hannah a glass of water?” Dr. Scully asks softly. William’s parents call each other by their last names, a holdover from their days as FBI partners. He said it was embarrassing, but she thinks it’s sweet.

Mulder returns with the water and Hannah sips it slowly.

“Hannah, can you tell us what happened?” Dr. Scully asks gently, still with a calming hand on her back.

Hannah takes a deep breath, trying to steady herself.

“I’m sorry, Dr. Scully,” she says.

“Dana,” William’s mom interrupts. “You can call me Dana.”

“Okay,” Hannah continues. “He was called in last night to assist on a project with the large hadron collider, but he never came back. I went down to our worksite and they told me he’d gone missing inside the LHC tunnel. But that’s impossible. The tunnel is fully enclosed.”

She pauses to wipe the tears off her face with her sweatshirt sleeve. “I think this physicist Dr. Bellona has something to do with it. William saw him yesterday leading some sort of ritual outside the Shiva statue and then he was the one who called William last night.”

“What Shiva statue?” Mulder asks, his eyes darting from Hannah to his wife.

“Um, there’s a statue of the Hindu god Shiva right behind our building. Apparently, Dr. Bellona was chanting and scattering something there with these other people and he kind of stared down William when he saw him.”

“We have to go see that statue,” Mulder says, already headed to the door. His frenetic energy reminds her of William when he’s excited about a new idea.

“Is that okay, Hannah?” William’s mom asks. “Can you come show it to us?”

She guides them outside to a courtyard in between her apartment and the neighboring office building. There, on a granite podium, stands a giant brass model of a majestic Shiva dancing in a fiery halo. He has one foot on the back of a smaller being, and the other raised in the air in celebration.

“This is it,” she says. “It was a gift from the Indian government. What do you think Bellona was doing here?”

Mulder steps forward to examine the statue.

“I don’t know,” he says, rubbing his fingers along the engraved plaque on its base. “But I saw this same symbol earlier this morning in the taxi that took us here from the airport. The driver had a medallion hanging from his mirror that looked exactly like this.”

“It’s probably a coincidence,” Dana says. “But I have to admit, it’s odd. Why is there a religious statue at a scientific center?”

“There are parallels between the story of Shiva dancing the universe into existence and the movement of subatomic particles,” Hannah answers. As a self-proclaimed atheist, she’d asked herself the same question upon coming to CERN, confident that all answers could be found in science. But the more she learns about particle physics, the more mysterious the world seems. “Carl Sagan called Shiva’s cosmic dance the most elegant and sublime representation of the creation of the universe.”

“She quotes Sagan,” Mulder says, smiling. “No wonder William likes you so much.”

Hannah blushes. Glancing down, she spots a green, trifoliate leaf on the pebbled ground. It’s bright with two smaller leaflets and a longer, wider one in the middle, and stands out against the gray of the stones on the walkway. As she looks around on the ground, she sees a few more dispersed around the statue.

“Look at this,” she says, bending down to pick it up. “Maybe Bellona was scattering leaves.”

“Let me see,” Dana says, reaching over to take the leaf from Hannah. “It looks like it’s from a citrus plant, possibly tropical. I don’t think it’s from anything that grows around here.”

“Hannah!” a French-accented voice calls out and all three of them turn around.

It’s Emmanuelle Toussaint, a young French engineer who works in the LHC control center. Hannah had met her at a cocktail reception for women at CERN and the two had become friendly. If there really was an incident with the LHC, Emanuelle would know about it.

“Did you hear what happened?” Emmanuelle asks, striding over to the statue near Hannah and William’s parents.

“To William?” Hannah blurts out desperately.

Emmanuelle looks confused. “No,” she says. “The LHC operated at 15 TeV last night.”

“That’s physically impossible,” Hannah says under her breath.

You don’t need to tell me that,” Emanuelle responds excitedly. “I saw it with my own eyes from the control center, though. We’ve calibrated and recalibrated every detector and we’re still getting the same reading.”

“Scully, I might need some translating here,” Mulder leans over to Dana to whisper.

“I don’t think I understand what’s going on either,” she says.

“The collider has a maximum total collision energy of 14 TeV, or teraelectronvolts per beam. It’s only ever operated at 13 TeV, though, and achieving 15 TeV would require physical upgrades that are years away,” Hannah explains.

“Sorry,” she continues. “Emmanuelle, these are William’s parents, and,” she pauses. “William went missing last night.”

“Oh my goodness,” Emmanuelle gasps, bringing a thin hand to her mouth. “That was him with Dr. Bellona.”

“What happened?” Dana asks.

“Dr. Bellona was the one running the experiment last night. There’s footage of him inside the tunnel working on a calibration with someone else. I didn’t realize it was William with him. Then, there was a power surge and we lost connection to the cameras. When they came back online, Bellona was still there but William wasn’t.”

“Where could he have gone?” Hannah asks.

“I don’t know,” Emmanuelle continues. “But Dr. Bellona called the control room and wanted us to begin the collider run. We obviously can’t do that if anyone is still in the tunnel and, since we didn’t see William exit, we couldn’t start the collider. We locked down the facility and had the technicians do a full sweep of the tunnel. No one was there. Bellona insisted William had exited with him and had gone home, and since there was no sign of him in the tunnel, we figured he was telling the truth. That’s when we started the experiment and the LHC hit 15 TeV.”

“But William didn’t come home,” Hannah says quietly.

“What would happen if the collider ran while he was inside the tunnel?” Mulder asks.

Hannah glances at Emmanuelle. They both know it would be instantly fatal for anyone to be exposed to the high voltage and intense magnetic fields generated by a run of the particle accelerator. Hannah’s heart thumps hard in her chest.

“It is impossible,” Emmanuelle says, shaking her head. “We would never run an experiment with anyone inside. There are too many safety protocols in place. And no one was inside at the time. I don’t know where William went, but I can promise you he was not in the tunnel.”

“I think we need to talk to this Dr. Bellona,” says Dana.

[benk625-blog]

Non Gratus Anus Rodentum

“What’s the deal with that one?” Yazz asked Snork. The former had learned a great deal from the latter about humans. Yazz no longer assumed that smaller race was harmless. His new favorite pastime was peppering his drinking buddy with questions about the galaxy’s most frightening species.

“Which one?” Snork asked. There was a table full of humans.

“The short Sheila, she can’t be more than 1.5 meters. I bet she doesn’t weigh more than 40 kilos, her combat kit has to outweigh her.”

“I’d tell ya mate, but you wouldn’t believe me. You’d better get it straight from the klop-klop’s chompers.” Snork placed his hands on either side of his mouth to amplify his yell. “Oi!, Sheila! This gezzer wants to buy you a pint of bitter and hear your story.”The woman left the table of humans and strutted over.

“I got lots of stories, Tall Green & Tusky. What do you want to know?’

“I’m Snork and this curious pile of maggots is Yazz. I bet you’ve got loads of tales. Hows about you tell him what the ink on yer arm means?”

“My call sign is Templeton. I’m guessing you lot haven’t seen subterranean combat?”

“Can’t say that I have.” Yazz admitted. Snork shook his head as well.

“Some insurgents literally go underground to protect themselves from bombing campaigns. They construct elaborate tunnel systems with power, ventilation and even makeshift hospitals. My job is to infiltrate and destroy these operations.”

“You don’t get, whaddayacallit, closet-fibula?” Yazz asked

“Claustrophobia, yeah-no, I’m not afraid of small spaces. Give me a tunnel or a space ship any day. It’s open spaces I don’t like. Standing on a planet surface and looking at the horizon gives me the wobblies and freaks me out.  I can’t tolerate bright light either that’s why I’m wearing these.” She taps the pair of thick black goggles that cover her eyes.

“How do you manage all your gear in those close quarters? I’ve never seen a Terry without 50 kilos of tech on their body and another hundred in their locker box.”

“Not us combat engineers. I have a flashlight, sidearm, multi-tool and a vest of explosive charges. For a long mission I might have couple of pouches with water and protein solution. It’s mostly a get in, get out kind of job.”

“Doesn’t that leave you vulnerable to attack?”

“It sure does. Enemy combatants aren’t the biggest risk, though. The tunnels are too tight for anything other than one on one. We try to avoid direct engagement. The idea is to move quietly as possible and listen for any sounds that might indicate danger. My biggest threat are booby-traps.”

“How do they ensnare your breasts?”

“How do they wha-“ Templeton laughed “No, no booby-trap is Terran slang for anti-personnel tactics. Things like: trip-wires to cause tunnel collapse, spike pits, hidden venomous animals, flood chambers and limb traps. Limb traps are the worst.” Templeton rested her foot on the edge of the table and lifted her pant leg. He lower calf was dotted with puckered scars on all sides.

“What they do is angle the spikes downward so that your foot can fall in, but trying to pull it out causes more damage. I had to spend three hours with my multi-tool sawing through each one praying the enemy couldn’t hear the noise. By the time I hobbled back to camp the wound was severely infected from animal venom and excrement. I almost lost the leg.

“I don’t know whether to call you the bravest, toughest or craziest human I have met.” Yazz mused.

“Just call me tunnel rat, it means all three.”

[thecreaturecodex]

Dalya

“Rider” © Cindy Avellno, accessed at her ArtStation here

[And Monster Girl Summer is officially a Go! Part of my goal with Monster Girl Summer is to reflect on the games I’ve run in the past. And to sort of mentally catalog how many of the PCs started out monstrous, or became monstrous over the course of play. Like Dalya here. Dalya was originally a human, but ended up reincarnated as a gnoll. And was in the half of the party that survived their fight with Karzoug, as opposed to being wiped out in round 1. Time stop + reverse gravity + prismatic sphere, don’tcha know.

I ran Rise of the Runelords in 3.5. Dalya was originally built using the battle dancer class from Dragon Compendium. So making her a brawler was a easy choice for the conversion.]

Dalya CR 18 CG Humanoid (gnoll) This tall, lean hyena headed woman has her hair done up in a dyed fringe, and tattoos are visible beneath her fur. She wears leather armor and carries a buckler and spear.

Born to an exiled Shoanti father and a Varisian merchant mother, Dalya was used to living on the road. But she didn’t expect it to turn out the way it did. Visiting the Swallowtail Festival in Sandpoint, she was caught up in a goblin raid, which rapidly turned into investigating the growing power of the Sihedron cult and, eventually, opposing the forces of Karzoug. Underneath Thistletop, Dalya was slain by the barghest Malfeshnekor, but her allies were able to fight the beast back long enough to recover her body. Possibly as a side effect of being slain by one of Lamashtu’s chosen, Dalya was returned to life as a gnoll when brought back through a reincarnate spell. And Dalya couldn’t have been happier with her new body.

Dalya’s adventures continued from there, and she proudly brags that she’s never lost a fist fight with a giant. She was instrumental to killing Karzoug and preventing Varisia from being overrun by an army of lamiae and other monsters. But Dalya is not one to rest on her laurels, and she is in no way retired. Her current mission is to help a few packs of non-evil gnolls to settle in the Storval Plateau without causing too much conflict with the Shoanti quahs living there already. Her allies in this mission include a quartet of advanced crocuttals and Krojun Eats-What-He-Kills, a powerful warrior of the Sun Clan, himself reincarnated into a monstrous form (a bugbear) following a fatality in combat.

Dalya    CR 18 XP 153,600 CG Medium humanoid (gnoll, human) Reincarnated gnoll brawler (battle dancer) 18 Init +6; Senses darkvision 60 ft., Perception +18 Defense AC 33, touch 20, flat-footed 26 (+6 Dex, +1 dodge, +1 natural, +6 armor, +6 shield, +3 deflection) hp 200 (18d10+90 plus 7) Fort +20, Ref +21, Will +13; +2 vs. fear, despair Resist fire 30 Defensive Abilities dancing dodge (9/day), hopeful Offense Speed 35 ft. Melee +4 evil outsider bane unarmed strike +34/+29/+24/+19 (2d8+16), +4 evil outsider bane bite +32 (1d6+5) or +4 evil outsider bane unarmed strike +32/+32/+27/+27/+22/+22/+17 (2d8+16), +4 evil outsider bane bite +32 (1d6+5)  or +2 returning distance spear +30/+25/+20/+15 (1d8+17/x3), +4 evil outsider bane bite +32 (1d6+5) Ranged +2 distance returning spear +26 (1d8+17/x3) Special Attacks awesome blow, brawler’s flurry, brawler’s strike (magic, cold iron, silver, chaotic, good, adamantine), martial flexibility (12/day, 3 feats as swift action or 1 as immediate), rolling flurry, sparring partners (3/day) Statistics Str 30, Dex 22, Con 21, Int 9, Wis 13, Cha 16 Base Atk +18; CMB +28 (+36 trip, +35 grapple, +30 bull rush, +29 disarm); CMD 48 (56 vs. trip, 55 vs. grapple, 50 vs. bull rush, 49 vs. disarm) Feats Acrobatic Steps (B), Combat Expertise (B), Combat Reflexes, Deflect Arrows, Dodge, Fleet (B), Improved Grapple (B), Improved Trip, Improved Unarmed Strike (B), Iron Will, Mobility, Monkey Moves, Monkey Style, Nimble Moves (B), Power Attack, Snapping Bite, Vicious Stomp (B) Skills Acrobatics +27, Climb +16, Intimidate +17, Linguistics +0, Perception +18, Perform (dance) +11, Ride +12, Sense Motive +12, Swim +16 Languages Common, Gnoll, Shoanti SQ close weapon mastery, dancer’s cunning, legendary, maneuver training (trip +4, grapple +3, bull rush +2, disarm +1), martial training, reincarnated Gear manual of gainful exercise +4 (expended), tome of leadership and influence +2 (expended), amulet of mighty fists +5 (+4 evil outsider bane), belt of physical perfection +4, +4 brawling leather armor, +5 buckler, +2 returning distance spear, winged boots, pliant gloves, cloak of resistance +4, ring of major fire resistance, ring of protection +3, potion of cure serious wounds (x3), potion of haste (x3), 500 gp worth of mundane jewelry, 36 pp. Special Abilities Dancer’s Cunning (Ex) A battle dancer can treat her Charisma score as her Intelligence score for the purpose of meeting the prerequisites of combat feats. In addition, she can attempt a Perform (dance) check instead of a Bluff check to feint in combat, and her unarmed strikes are considered to have the performance weapon special quality. Dancing Dodge (Ex) When an opponent attempts a melee attack against Dalya, she can expend one use of an attack of opportunity as an immediate action to move 5 feet, granting the battle dancer a +3 dodge bonus to AC against the triggering attack. The attack is still resolved normally, even if the battle dancer’s movement takes her out of the triggering attack’s reach. This movement is not a 5-foot step and provokes attacks of opportunity from creatures other than the one that triggered this ability, though the battle dancer can attempt an Acrobatics check to avoid provoking the attacks. Dalya can use this ability nine times per day. She can use this ability only while wearing light armor or no armor, and while carrying no heavier than a light load. Hopeful (Ex) Packmaster gnolls gain a +2 racial bonus on saving throws against fear effects and emotion effects such as despair, grief or boredom. They do not gain this bonus against rage effects, or other types of emotion effects, such as an unnatural lust or overwhelming presence spell (GM’s discretion). Legendary Dalya’s statistics are built using 25 point buy, and she has the gear of an 18th level PC. This increases her CR by +1. Reincarnated (Ex) Dalya was born human, but transformed into a gnoll due to a reincarnate spell. She has the bonus feat of a human, and bonus skill ranks for levels 1-4. She does not have the racial Hit Dice, or mental ability bonuses, of a gnoll. Rolling Flurry (Ex) When a battle dancer uses her brawler’s flurry, she must move 5 feet before each melee attack or combat maneuver. If she is unable to move 5 feet, she can’t attempt any further attacks or combat maneuvers. She can’t exceed her maximum speed. This movement does not provoke attacks of opportunity if the brawler would be able to take a 5-foot step normally; if she would be unable to (for instance, if she were in difficult terrain), the movement provokes attacks of opportunity as normal unless she succeeds at the appropriate Acrobatics checks. While using this ability, she can still take her normal 5-foot step before or after making her attacks. Sparring Partners (Ex) When Dalya gains a flanking bonus on an attack while using her rolling flurry ability, the ally providing the flank gains a flanking bonus on its next attack against that opponent, even if the battle dancer moves out of a flanking position. If either the opponent or the ally moves more than 5 feet before the ally’s attack, the flanking bonus is lost. This ability works only if the ally is on the opposite side of an opponent during the battle dancer’s attack, not if a flanking bonus is gained in some other way, such as through Gang Up. Dalya can use this ability three times per day.

[alex-is-gay-666]

Dee x Fem!Reader (Metal Family)

♥️Chapter 5♥️

BEEP BEEP BEE-

  A loud slam sounded throughout the room as the girl struggled to grab her phone and silence it. Finally succeeding, she groaned as her eyes slightly opened and stared at the glint of light coming through her window. She sat right up with her messy hair clinging to the saliva stuck on her cheek.

  Rubbing the crust out of her eyes, she sat at the edge of the bed. Slowly slithering off like a slow snake, she made it to her bathroom.

  As she stared at her reflection she suddenly remembered-

  "FUCK ITS SATURDAY!'

  "Right you are kiddo!" Someone happily chirped through the doorway.

  Y/n glared over to see her uncle standing there ready to go with a cigarette in hand. He skimmed over her messy figure - baggy pants, large shirt...and bandages?

  "What's with the bandages and bandaids kiddo?"

  Y/n grabbed her toothbrush and toothpaste before answering.

  "The bandages on my arms? Yeah, another fight."

  Uncle Jack grumbled.

  "Don't worry I defended two boys from getting their asses whooped."

  "Well get ready."

  Y/n rolled her eyes.

  "Yeah yeah to go see your boyfriend..."

  "He's married..."

  "Oh..."

• • •

  Y/n scrolled through her phone as she waited for her uncle to get ready. She tapped her foot on the ground getting impatient by the minute. She finally heard footsteps down the stair and she turned to look up. She scrunched her nose up as she stared at her uncle.

  "What!?"

  "You always manage to look like a 50-year-old going through a midlife crisis..."

  "Oh shut up. I'm 42 you know?"

  Y/n grinned as she open the front door for her uncle and bowed. "After you, my lady."

  Uncle Jack swayed his hand dramatically in front of him and smiled. "Thank you, my princess."

  Y/n's smile dropped and she groaned.

  "Can you please stop calling me that..."

  "No~"

• • •

  "Is this it?"

  Jack nodded to which Y/n raised her eyebrow.

  Their house looks...interesting...

  Jack knocked on the door and waited patiently. Throughout this time Y/n  fidgeted with her hands and swayed back and forth. She could hear some ruckus coming from inside as if the people weren't ready for guests yet.

  Finally, the door opened revealing a tall lanky man with blonde fluffy hair...and an interesting  creepy smile, "Ah your here and on time."

  Jack smiled and spoke but Y/n didn't listen as she noticed a few people standing behind the strange man. A woman with red hair who had her arms crossed as if she wanted no more than to leave...and two boys...

  "It's you two!" Y/n cried out, catching the attention of everybody.

  Her uncle looked over with a puzzled look.

  "The two boys I save from getting their asses kicked!"

  "Oh..."

[multifandominfj]

The concept of a Fifty Foot woman may have struck fear in audiences in the 50s, but in 2024 lesbians and queer women pray daily to be crushed by tall women. 💅🤤

[bluesguy54]

Appearing to grow out of bare rock along the Lake Superior shoreline east of Grand Portage is a sentinel-like small gnarled tree with twisted branches. Known as the Spirit Little Cedar Tree—Manidoo-giizhikens (various spellings) is the Ojibwe name, while others have called it The Witch Tree — it is held sacred by the Ojibwe people and lives on their tribal sacred ground on the tip of Hat Point, looking out over the waters of Lake Superior as it has for 300-400 years.

The earliest written record of this sacred tree first appeared in the 1731 writings of French-Canadian fur-trader/explorer Sieur de la Verendrye (1685-1749), who at the time noted it was a mature cedar. The iconic weathered Spirit Tree has survived gales, ice floes and blizzards, and today is considered Minnesota’s oldest living landmark.

Why is the Spirit Tree twisted, stunted and gnarled? The ancient tree is a northern white cedar (Thuja occidentalis) that seems to have begun life centuries ago inside a crack in the granite rocks. At some point, something damaged the tree’s crown leaving it with the distinctive bonsai-like stunted branches. Then, the original trunk became entwined by a root sprout, giving it that twisted aged look. And in time, the tree’s roots reached down to the lake through the crack. Spirit Tree barely reaches 15 feet in height, while northern white cedar trees normally grow 50 to 80 feet tall.

There’s legends and lore about the Spirit Little Cedar Tree. According to one Ojibwe legend, a hawk-like bird spirit is trapped inside and can wreak havoc to canoes and paddlers if there is no gift offering of tobacco. Another tale tells of an evil spirit that once resided in the tree, but was frightened away by the guns of arriving Europeans. Then there’s the story that the Spirit Tree was a woman who, following a vision, went to Hat Point as a lookout to look for some kind of change that was to come from Lake Superior.

Many believe the Spirit Tree has healing and mystical powers. And for centuries, the ancient tree has been sacred and of spiritual significance to the Ojibwe people of Grand Portage. Over the years it has also been a silent witness to the history of Minnesota’s North Shore and served as a landmark to paddlers passing by.

So, how did Spirit Little Cedar get the nickname, Witch Tree? Minnesota-born artist Dewey Albinson lays claim to first using the designation “Witch Tree” in 1922 after painting the iconic tree. He is quoted in the article “The Artist as Chronicler” by Mary Towley Swanson as saying it was “incredible that this wind-twisted old cedar can have braved the elements for perhaps four hundred years. In the old days, the Indians would portage across the point back to a gully to avoid passing the tree and the Evil Spirit that lives in it and dared only approach in large groups, drumming and singing, and bearing gifts of tobacco to appease the Evil Spirit.”

Traditionally, to help ensure safe passage on the waters of Lake Superior, which could suddenly turn wickedly turbulent, people made offerings to the Spirit Tree. In his book Minong -The Good Place, author Timothy Cochrane explains the Spirit Little Cedar Tree is the “traditional place to bring prayers and offers for a safe crossing and fishing success. Offerings of reverence and tobacco and ribbon—and earlier, vermilion—were left at the foot of the tree.” Cochrane also warned paddlers about the underwater lynx Mishipizhea, who supposedly had an “aquatic lair” in the nearby waters.

The Spirit Tree has inspired artists like the distinguished Ojibwe modernist George Morrison (1919-2000), a member of the Grand Portage band. In an essay by W. Jackson Rushing III, he writes, “Morrison was interested in magic (as an Indigenous medicinal practice) and the magic of nature, which would explain part of his attraction to the fierce beauty of the tree.”

Morrison’s former wife, artist Hazel Belvo, painted a series of paintings of the Spirit Tree, which writer Mary Abbe in an article in the Duluth Star Tribune (2013) described as “portraits of an ancient soul wrapped in a carapace of living wood.”

Stunning images of the tree have been captured by photographers like Travis Novitsky of the Grand Portage Anishinabe Nation and Bryan Hansel in Grand Marais. And the Spirit Tree / Witch Tree is featured as one of the world’s 50 historical trees in the recent book Wise Trees by Diane Cook and Len Jenshel.

Since 1989, when the Grand Portage Band purchased the property on which the Spirit Tree lives, access to the site has been closed to the public to protect the tree. Hiking down to the tree is prohibited unless accompanied by a tribal member of the Grand Portage Band.

[endlessnightlock]

Prompt 11 : 50 Reasons to Share a Bed. Thank you 😊

11) Because you fear the dark, or what’s in the dark. 

OOH, anon, this is a good one!

A supernatural story...

“Oh, do come in miss. You look frightened to death, poor thing,” the housekeeper tsk’d, stepping back to allow Katniss entrance to the front room of the manor house.

Katniss didn’t need to be told twice. She rushed past the woman, who was tall and generously porportioned, and kind enough to answer her incessant pounding on the brass knocker. 

She was too frightened to feel badly for disturbing the house in the middle of the night, not with, that thing outside. For all she knew it would tear her to shreds given half a chance. 

The creature who had chased her here seeking refuge was not unknown to Katniss. It’d spent years hovering on the edge of her periphery, just out of sight, naught but a shadow, albeit an unrelenting one and never knowing it’s intent or plans for her. She knew it was there, sensed in her mind’s eye it’s hunger, it’s desire to consume her. 

Tonight on her way from her aunt’s place in town, the creature finally made himself known to Katniss. He was large and hulking, his glowing white eyes the only distinctive feature on his face in the cover of the shadowy woods on a full moon night. Those eyes caught her, mesmerizing in their horror, and the creature gave a great sniff, a laugh, before coming toward her, leaving Katniss racing through the woods on shaking legs, almost herding her toward Mellark house.

“Please lock it, and quickly,” Katniss begged, pushing the great mahogany door shut behind them and flattening her back against it.

“You’re quite safe here miss. No one comes to Master Mellark’s home uninvited. He makes sure of that,” the housekeeper said, nodding in a way that indicated she’d need to step aside. 

Katniss gave her space and the woman turned the heavy key in the lock with a distinct click, and the finality of being locked in gave her pause. Tightness formed in her chest, like a giant hand squeezing her, laying pressure on her ribs and lungs. Suffocating, like visiting Uncle Haymitch at the sanatorium, where the unwell or unbalanced are shut away from polite society and aren’t allowed to leave. 

Silly, that. 

Katniss followed the housekeeper once she bade her to move further inside the dark house. The woman was silent as they walked, their footsteps echoing against the marble floor; she carried a single candle in a silver holder, hardly illuminating the great house as they made their way through. Katniss wished the woman would light a lamp or something brighter. The dark in here was on par with the woods that lay just outside Master Mellark’s garden.

Katniss chalked up her racing heart and churning stomach to simple fright of that thing pursuing her through the woods. Her state of excitement needed time to level off. She was inside, safe for the time being.

“Ah, here we are, miss,” the housekeeper paused at the foot of a winding staircase. Katniss couldn’t make how high the staircase climbed due to the dimness of the room but dutifully followed her up the steps. “It’s a bit of a walk to the bedchamber, I am afraid,” the woman explained conversationally as they made their way in the near dark. 

The single candle didn’t give off nearly enough light. If Katniss were to falter on the slick marble steps, she’d likely tumble down to her death. 

The housekeeper went on. “The majority of the house is shut off; its just Master Peeta here now, and he rarely has guests. Sees no reason to maintain a separate wing for guests.”

Oh. That meant she’d been sleeping down the hall from the master of this place. She didn’t particularly like the idea of that. “You need’nt have given me a room in the main house,” Katniss paused on the steps. “I could have slept in the servants quarters.”

The housekeeper snorted. Glancing over her shoulder at Katniss, who still wasn’t moving, she met her eye. “Well dear, that would not be possible. I am the only one who stays on overnight. There are no furnished servants quarters, not anymore. And I don’t fancy sharing my room with a girl who shows up on the Master’s steps in the middle of the night.” With that, she began walking up the steps again.

Rather than get left behind in the dark, Katniss, though quite irritated and beginning to give consideration to her ill-ease, followed the housekeeper. She kept as much distance as she dared from the woman.

Finally, the housekeeper stopped on a landing and indicated with a wave of her hand that Katniss should follow. They made their way down a winding hallway until they reached a door with a low light seeping out the bottom. “The living quarters,” the housekeeper explained, opening that door and stepping aside to allow Katniss entrance.

Rather than a hallway with rows of doors greeting her as she’d expected, Katniss found herself inside of a large bedchamber. There was a roaring fire in the grate, and a wing-back chair pulled in front of the blaze. A man sat with his back to her. At least she assumed it was a man based on what she could make out of his form and clothing. Large, heavily muscled legs leading to feet in a pair of brocade slippers. Broad shoulders. 

“Master, your expected guest,” the housekeeper announced from behind Katniss’s back. Frightened, she turned to the woman only to watch her disappear behind the heavy door without hesitation. Her heart sunk to her knees when a key turned in that lock. 

She was trapped. Frantic, her eyes swept the room, looking for anything that would help her escape. She would take anything, a weapon, a lamp, a candle... there was nothing. Even if Katniss could get through the door, which would not yield to her frenzied shoving and twisting of the knob, she could never make it down that staircase alone with nothing to light her way. The room would be pitch black, save that fire warming her skin, even at this distance.

“You may as well step away from the door,” the voice of the man broke the near silence of the crackling fire and her racing heart. Katniss realized he was young and healthy; she had hoped he was infirm, an old coot who got enjoyment out of frightening young girls but otherwise meaning them no harm.

“Excuse me?” she whispered, incredulous.

He sighed, and that sound had her wanting to know what he looked like, this man who had her trapped and frightened as a small mouse, but conversely, she hoped he would remain exactly where he sat. “You sought refuge under my roof, in my bed---”

“Sir, I never said anything about your bed,” Katniss’s voice shook. He meant to violate her, she knew it. “In fact, I’d rather not be here at all.”

The man laughed. “Because you fear the dark, or rather, what’s in the dark. Foolish girl.”

And then he stood. “Master Peeta?” she ventured.

“I am he,” he answered. 

But Master Peeta was not a man. In front of the fire, it was so much easier to make him out as the creature who’d been pursuing her. Thick blond locks on his head and down his arms, white eyes that might have been blue in the light of day. Hard looking skin, facial features that reminded her of both animal and man. A  wide, generous mouth, full of sharp teeth when he smiled knowingly at her.

“You chased me here,” Katniss said dumbly. He’d set the trap and she fell directly into it. 

Oh she was going to regret this, she realized.

Master Peeta laughed, stretching out his hand in invitation. “I encouraged you to make your way to my home. You simply accepted my invitation. Now, sweetheart, come here so I may have a better look at you. Please.”

[minijenn]

Jen Tortures Herself With Every Dreamworks Animated Movie Ever: Monsters Vs. Aliens

So you might be surprised to learn I never really watched this movie before now. And yeah... I don't think this movie was really a major part of too many other peoples' childhoods either. Because uhhh we got a mid in an otherwise banger era for Dreamworks.

We focus on Susan, who is struck by a meteorite at her wedding and mutates into a 50 foot tall woman, now dubbed Ginormica. She's imprisoned alongside a group of other monsters, including Dr. Cockroach, the Missing Link, B.O.B, and Insectasorus, who are all recruited into fighting an encroaching alien menace in exchange for their freedom. It's a simple story, one that's clearly harkening back to classic monster and alien movies alike, sort of as a blending of the genres of sorts. It presents moments of strong emotion, but idk, they just didn't really land for me? This whole movie as a whole really didn't, tbh.

Our characters are fine enough. Susan is an ok protagonist, initially a very normal woman who comes into her own and grows strong both physically and emotionally as the plot goes along. The other monsters are ok, not as annoying as I thought they'd be, but not the best either. I did enjoy the friendship they had with each other, and with Susan though, you really do get the sense that all these weirdos genuinely care about each other. Our villian is Gallaxhar, a power-hungry alien, and he's your usually silly antagonist who is just... ok. Like everything else abuot this movie.

The animation is... again, ok. I believe this movie was initially made to be shown in 3D, so there's a lot of weird stuff going on on that front. The character designs are also kind of ugly, especially some of the humans, though I think that might have been intentional given that How to Train Your Dragon only came out a few months after this and the humans all look fine in that. There's a good mix of action and comedy here and both are again, say it with me now, just ok. Nothing laugh out loud hilarious here, I kind of didn't react to much of anything at all while watching this.

So yeah, Monsters Vs Aliens isn't really a bad movie, but I can't call it anything other then just ok. It's not very memorable, not when matched up against its contemporaries, and I can see why it never really garnished any sequels (I know it does have TV show though, I have fever dreams of seeing it on Nickelodeon while home sick from middle school). It just... doesn't leave much of an impact on you (ironic, given the film starts with a literal meteorite impacting a woman).

The timing for this movie is so weird because it really is just a very meh movie sandwiched in between some of Dreamworks' absolute best. Personally, it didn't do much for me, but I'm not much of a sci-fi buff in general so maybe I'm just not the right audience for it. Idk ya'll, at the end of the day, all I can say about Monsters Vs. Aliens is that... well, it certainly exists. And that's about it.

Overall Rating: 5/10

Verdict: Get wrecked by a radioactive meteorite

Previous Review (Madagascar: Escape 2 Africa)

Next Review (How To Train Your Dragon)

[thettrpgtournament]

Why you should vote for each of them and full art below!

Aurora Byford (by @scattereda for Monster of the Week)

(art by @rosenkranz-does-things)

Aurora is 50's america's most normalest woman who's definitely not actually a changeling eating people in the woods. She was having a great time amongus-ing the group of monster hunters she joined to stay under the radar until the world's worst man dragged her to the moon with him (which will hopefully be exploding very shortly)

Lord Tye (by @bitchyfog for Hollyhock)

(art by @reactorc0re)

Imagine the highest and mightiest elf royalty stereotype. Proud, haughty, obsessed with power and influence, attitude for days, bedecked in fine clothes and jewels. Now imagine all of that stuffed into an adorable three foot tall beanie-baby looking creature.

That's Lord Tye. An Aristocrat Guide of the Winter Court, they attend a fairy festival as an honored guest (according to them) to throw their power and influence around to try and stop a rival noble from laying claim to a small, insignificant territory for curious secret reasons. They will bribe, wheedle, and trade secrets and favors to get their way while being absolutely insufferably full of themself the entire time. Just don't ask them their true name!

[gorgin-gals-muses]

hmmm... GOD shinigami or BLOB shinigami... hard to choose

the raw power of a 50 foot tall woman wreaking havoc upon a tasty little city... or the more subtle, bossy neediness of demanding immobile mountain...

decisions, decisions