#which is a little more normal and closer to real world physics

[sing-me-under]

I have like ten different analyses of each of the the dsmp characters that are all very similar but differ slightly based on the varying interpretations of the world building of the SMP.

Like, are they hybrids or humans or completely nonhuman? How does that affect them? Does it change anything at all?

Are the members of the SMP the only ones in their world or are there hundreds or even thousands of unnamed citizens? How does that affect the importance of the nations? How deadly were the wars? How much grief permeates throughout the population? How bloody was Doomsday? Who has the most blood on their hands?

Were they just normal people pre-canon or did they have defining backstories? Or do they not remember their lives before the SMP at all? How does that change their world views?

Exactly what is the magic system of the DSMP? Is it just Minecraft mechanics or are there actual processes and knowledge that needs to be studied and practiced? If it’s the latter, who is better or worse at what? How does this affect their economy?

To what extent are the governments actually functional? Are there actual governing bodies or are they just groups of people? Is c!Eret an actual king who has to make complicated decisions or do they just sit and look pretty and occasionally send out royal decrees? Does anyone actually pay taxes?

Does the SMP take place in a server multiverse or is it just one giant planet and a bunch of lands that can be reached with long enough travel? How far does Dream’s adminship extend? Are Logstedshire and the Anarchist Commune actually outside Dream’s SMP? Is SMP just another word for territory since Wilbur called L’Manberg an SMP within Dream’s SMP?

How the fuck does procreation work???? Is it with the same logic as divine myths where people just spawn from random limbs or pop out of the woodwork? Is Mpreg a thing???? What about spawn eggs? How the fuck are babies? How the fuck does aging? What the fuck is anyone’s canon age??????

How does respawning work? Do people just have a lot of near death experiences and the canon deaths are the only ones actually perceived? Or do people just respawn like normal and they can only have three really traumatic deaths before they get stuck in limbo? What happens to their bodies after they die?

Gods are real, obviously, but why didn’t anyone believe in anyone other than Prime before they started fucking with people? Are these old gods with obscure pantheons or did they spawn into existence in response to a society? Exactly how godly are they? Are they even real gods or just very powerful eldritch beings calling themselves gods?

What the fuck even are comms? Are they redstone? Or are they a technology more similar to the nukes or robotics? How do they display canon vs noncanon deaths? To what extent do the comms function like Minecraft settings? Do they even have any functions besides the chat feature and coordinates?

What other technology exists? Kinoko watches anime, but is it a screen or is it a theatre? Do cars and guns and the like exist within their world but the DSMP specifically just doesn’t have the resources to build them? Or do they not exist at all?

HOW DOES THE TIMELINE FUCKING WORK???? HOW LONG WERE THE WARS? WERE THEY A COUPLE DAYS OR WERE THEY YEARS???? HOW LONG WAS EXILE??? WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS TIME??? WHEN THE FUCK DOES LITERALLY ANYTHING TAKE PLACE??? HOW OLD WERE THESE MOTHERFUCKERS???????

[lizardsfromspace]

Do you ever get kind of interested in a subject where nothing weird has happened yet but you know something weird is going to happen?

Anyway, Lake Geneva, Wisconsin. It was originally a upscale resort community, and also still is: it's where rich people from Chicago kept their lake houses, and maybe still do. Its heyday was in the early to mid 20th century, where its status as a vacation destination was so set that Hugh Hefner even put the first ever "Playboy Resort" there. I haven't been there myself, so I may be wrong, but it doesn't give me, like, Pigeon Forge or Niagara Falls energy. The list of attractions online seems to be spas and parks and a few theaters.

But Lake Geneva is more famous now for its most famous son, Gary Gygax. Over the course frigid Wisconsin winters, he and several wargaming friends who didn't become famous developed tactical wargaming into the game Dungeons & Dragons in the early 1970s. He also began hosting a small gaming meetup in Lake Geneva, later called Gen Con, which outgrew the town by the late 1970s.

As I understand it, Lake Geneva didn't really embrace its status as the Birthplace of Dungeons and Dragons. When Gygax died, there were fan-funded tributes here and there, and fans created a new convention in his honor called Gary Con where they played games from his time at TSR, but D&D was still a niche hobby and not the thing you define a rich people resort town around.

Then, whoops, shows like Critical Role turned D&D into one of the most popular entertainment properties in the world! Now there's D&D-themed events popping up all over the place. Some of this is normal, like efforts to fund a more prominent memorial for Gary Gygax, and a Dragon Days Fantasy Festival. But some are going further. Because there are now at least two proposals to create immersive, D&D-themed LARP experiences in Lake Geneva, Wisconsin, population 8,227

One is a large themed restaurant/bar/wedding venue (?) called the Griffin and Gargoyle, which is supposedly opening in 2024, though all the art is concept art and they're still looking for investors.

The other one is Giantlands, the proposed theme park where the tickets will be NFTs, based on a game no one's heard of developed by the son of Gary Gygax by a company that legally can't call itself TSR anymore, but tried anyway before rebranding as Wonderfilled, and who also tried to make old Gygax games even more racist? I can't even begin to explain this. I think they got dunked on years ago but they were still hyping up its Lake Geneva theme park that's definitely going to exist this week (this is from August 11th)

What's incredible to me here is that they're boasting that their LARP theme park will be from the makers of Evermore Park. Nothing says quality in immersive fantasy roleplaying parks like someone whose main claim to fame is making that other one that failed. Wonder how many real tombstones and haunted dolls they'll buy this time. And this one appears to have fighting arena

I seriously doubt these are the only two pitches. Everyone with too much money and a love for theme parks feels the little voice in their head saying they can do the Star Wars Hotel right. I think what gets me here is, nobody would put anything like this in Lake Geneva otherwise. It's small, it's located in Wisconsin so it'd have to be seasonal, and it's less than two hours away from Wisconsin Dells - an entire town of kitschy roadside attractions - and even closer to Chicago, which is Chicago. Its tourism niche is beaches and homes around a scenic lake. The only reason to place anything there would be to honor Gary Gygax, and uh, I don't think the younger people who got into D&D with 5E really care about him, or even necessarily know who he is. Gary Con and most Gygax-themed events are for old-school gamers, not the Critical Role crowd. And they especially don't care about whatever Giantlands is. Giantlands as a game is so old-school there isn't even a PDF of the book, it's physical only. They want to build a full theme park around a game you can't even buy on DrivethruRPG. Anyway I hope all this open bc it would be funny

[ahoyimlosingmymind]

Can I get some Fitz hcs (Just like general thoughts you have about him? :))

These are literally all angst. Not an ounce of hurt/comfort

Fitz Vacker has academic anxiety like you've never seen. He may be smart, but a lot of his academic rigor is not there naturally. His good grades don't just fall into his lap like everyone seems to assume. This boy runs on red-eyes and brain fog 90% of the time and is just masterful at faking it till you make it

He actually has a hard time forming real friendships with people because he's used to being used to garner status. He's better socialized around adults because of the isolation and seclusion he felt from the 'celebrity worship' he experienced, or the extreme jealousy issues his peers projected onto him

he has a hard time connecting with the people in his immediate friend group to this day bc his status still hangs over all of their heads. There's always an undercurrent of resentment he can't even blame his friends for having against him

He dreaded the end of the school year award ceremonies because he always came out as top of his class but it was never seen as something he earned. It would get hard to breathe when awards were announced. People whispered. swore the whole thing was rigged.

He was often giving ability presentations to adults to be evaluated and deemed gifted and the stress of being perfect was crippling when he was little.

He always felt like he was living in a glass bubble, looking in on people but unable to really form bonds. Lots of derealization growing up, when there were lots of eyes on him. He got really good at running on autopilot and pretending to be present for people.

his time in the human world was oddly traumatic but he wouldn't tell a soul about it. He was used to feeling like a piece of meat in the lost cities, but in the real world, with his looks- he received a lot of unwanted attention from people and it caused a lot of self-perception issues and shame

he was exposed to more violence than he'll ever admit to in the human world. and he thinks that's part of the reason he has such a high threshold for it compared to other elves.

Fitz looked up to Alvar a lot but knew that his older brother didn't have the same affection for him.

He often felt like the world pitted him and his siblings against each other, and like Biana and Alvar had a closer bond than he did to either of them. Which led him to become really close with his dad, which only made the divide between the kids worse.

His friendship with Keefe was a lot deeper than anyone ever seemed to pick up on. He saw a lot of himself in Keefe but was too ashamed to admit it, for fear of sounding like he was searching for pity.

When he bakes it's usually to keep a panic attack at bay. It used to be a fun hobby that was light-hearted, but now it's the only thing he feels like he has an ounce of control over, and it's just become a coping mechanism.

He has a lot of silent panic attacks. Random bouts of tightness in his chest and shortness of breath that he can usually pass off as sighs

He's really close with Grizel who is often the one who senses these panic attacks because they're often too low-key for someone with normal senses to tell. She'll get him out of rooms, place a hand on his shoulder etc...

it happened a lot during the time Alvar was living on the Everglen property again. He didn't feel safe in his own bedroom half the time, even if Grizel sat at the foot of his bed while he slept.

He literally cannot sleep without Mr. Snuggles.

Bro is an insomniac who will pace around his house for hours at night until his brain physically knocks him out

Fluff Bonus!

Biana and him have grown closer since Alvar's betrayal, and she'll often keep him company while he bakes if she can tell it's getting into 'manic avoidance of dealing with feelings' territory.

She taught him to braid hair when they were little and he does it when he's nervous and needs to do something with his hands.

and if you like lavacake- he does it to Marella's hair all the time mindlessly <3

He collected lots of silly things from the human world and actually really loves human music. He's not supposed to have it though.

[maternity-morningstar]

Lil’ Pumpkin Patch

Written By @bunny-is-cute

A gift for @lucifer-imaginaryfriend for making me art for this idea and @fantasy-addict-fics for giving me this idea for Husk

I hope you both Enjoy 😊

His mind drifted off a bit as the Sin of Sloth was doing her examination. In the last few weeks, Husk had gone through a traumatic ordeal. The memory of his wings butchered off his back by Valentino still lingered physically and mentally to the sinner.

But it wasn’t just the loss of his wings that brought him some turmoil. Not long before that incident, Husk had made a grave mistake in his sleep. Lucifer, who is pregnant was triplets, stayed with him one night after Angel had left. And Husk took him up on his offer for a sleep partner. It was just sleep…until Husk nipped Lucifer while unconscious and his angelic-pregnancy hormone blood touched his tongue and suddenly, Husk was pregnant as well.

Belphegor was a professional and he appreciated that about her. She examined his back, seeing the gashes healing from where his wings used to be.

“How has your physical therapy been going?” She asked.

Husk blinked out of his daze, “I’m able to walk with a walker. Soon I might just need a cane,” he said solemnly. Even when he was alive on Earth at his oldest, he never needed a cane or a walker. And now he was more like an old man than ever.

“That’s good progress. Your gashes look like they’re staying closed. But I still advise you to keep bandaging them up.” She said and looked at him, “Are you able to lay on your back without pain?”

Husk shook his head no. He had chronic pain, especially along his upper back and down his spine. He did need rehab to walk again, so he often slept on his sides or on his front, which he needs to stop doing soon due to his pregnancy.

“I would like to get an ultrasound to see how the baby is doing,” Belphegor said as she tried to think of a solution before she looked around the room and saw a few extra pillows in a linen closet. “Let’s prop you up a bit to ease the pain off your back.”

Belphegor carefully positioned the pillows beneath Husk, easing the strain off his back. As she did, Husk felt a brief wave of relief wash over him. It wasn’t perfect, but it was better than the constant throbbing pain that had become his new normal.

“Thanks,” Husk muttered, his voice gruff but tinged with sincerity. He hated being in such a vulnerable position, relying on others, but he knew he didn’t have much choice right now.

Belphegor nodded, her expression professional yet gentle. She pulled the ultrasound machine closer, prepping Husk’s abdomen with the cool gel. “This should be quick,” she reassured him. “Just want to make sure everything’s progressing as it should.”

Husk clenched his jaw as the probe touched his fur and skin, his mind drifting again. The last few weeks had been a blur of pain and confusion. Losing his wings, finding out he was pregnant, dealing with the aftermath of everything—it was a lot to process. And now, lying there while Belphegor did her work, he couldn’t help but feel the weight of it all pressing down on him.

The rhythmic sound of the ultrasound filled the room, and Husk stared at the ceiling, trying to block out the sensation of the probe moving over his belly. He didn’t know how to feel about this baby. It wasn’t something he had ever planned for or even wanted, but now it was happening, and he had to deal with it.

“There’s the little one,” Belphegor said, her tone warm as she turned the screen so Husk could see.

He glanced at it, eyes narrowing slightly. The tiny figure on the screen barely seemed real to him. But it was there, a small life growing inside him, changing everything about his world.

“They’re doing well,” Belphegor continued, making a few notes on her clipboard. “Healthy heartbeat and everything seems to be on track. You’ll need to come in regularly for check-ups, especially given your…unique circumstances.”

Husk nodded absently, still staring at the screen. “Unique” was one way to put it. But there wasn’t much he could do now except try to get through it.

Belphegor cleaned up after the ultrasound and helped Husk get more comfortable. “I know this isn’t easy, but you’re doing well, considering everything you’ve been through,” she said, her voice softening slightly.

“Yeah, well, doesn’t feel like it,” Husk replied, his tone edged with bitterness. He wasn’t one to wallow, but he couldn’t deny how hard this had all been.

“Just take it one day at a time,” Belphegor advised as she packed up her equipment. She soon left his room and he was finally left alone.

Husk lay still for as long as he could, but the relief the pillows provided was fleeting. His muscles began to stiffen, the familiar ache in his back creeping back with a vengeance. He knew he needed to move soon, or the pain would only get worse, but the thought of it made him hesitate. Every movement felt like it would rip him apart.

Finally, he braced himself and shifted his weight to the side, groaning as his joints cracked in protest. It was like his body was resisting every attempt to function, every small movement sending jolts of pain down his spine. He bit back a curse, gritting his teeth as he swung his legs over the side of the bed.

His feet hit the cold floor, and for a moment, he just sat there, trying to gather the strength to stand. He could feel the sharp tugging pain in his back, like the wounds where his wings had been were being ripped open all over again. But he had to get up. He had to get his little secret.

With a deep breath, Husk pushed himself to his feet, swaying slightly as a wave of dizziness hit him. He held onto the bedpost for support, his other hand instinctively going to his abdomen, where the baby was growing. The movement made his back scream in protest, but he forced himself to take slow, careful steps toward the small drawer by his bed.

His hand trembled as he pulled it open, revealing the orange kitten plushie inside. It was soft, with little pumpkin designs covering its body, a comforting sight amidst the pain. Husk reached out, fingers brushing the plush fur before he gently lifted it out of the drawer. The instant he held it close, cradling the toy as though it was as delicate as a newborn kitten. Some of the tension in his body eased, though the pain didn’t disappear.

This little toy had become his lifeline, something to hold onto when everything else felt like it was slipping away. He clutched it close, imagining the day he would give birth to his kitten. It was a silly thought, maybe even a bit crazy, but it was something that brought him comfort in a world that had become so dark and painful.

Husk sank back onto the bed, the plushie tucked against his chest, as he let out a shaky breath. His back still throbbed, his joints still ached, but having the plush in his arms made it all a little more bearable. It was his secret, his little piece of hope, something to focus on when the pain got too much.

Husk curled up on the bed, his body still aching, but as he held the kitten plush close, he felt himself drifting away from the pain, slipping into a dream-like state. His mind began to blur the lines between reality and fantasy, the overwhelming pain easing as he entered this safe mental space, a place where the world was softer and quieter, and the harshness of his reality faded into the background.

In this state, the plushie wasn’t just a toy anymore—it was his newborn kitten, warm and soft in his arms. He could almost feel the tiny heartbeat against his chest, the steady rhythm calming him as he imagined the kitten’s soft breaths, its little body curled up against him, completely dependent on him for warmth and comfort.

He let his eyes flutter shut, his breathing evening out as he sank deeper into the dream. In his mind, he had just given birth, and the grueling, exhausting task behind him, was replaced by a profound sense of peace and accomplishment.

His rough exterior softened as he gazed down at the little toy, his eyes glassy with unshed tears.

He began to whisper to it, his voice a mere breath in the quiet room. "Hey there, little one," he murmured, his voice trembling slightly. "You're finally here... I’ve waited so long to meet you."

The pain he’d endured, the struggles he’d faced, all of it was worth it because now, he had his little kitten, safe and sound in his arms.

The imagined weight of the kitten against his chest felt so real, so comforting, that it brought tears to his eyes. He could almost feel its tiny heartbeat, the softness of its fur, and the way it nestled into him, seeking his warmth and protection. He clutched the plushie a little tighter, his hands shaking as the emotions he’d kept buried for so long started to spill over.

Husk could almost feel the exhaustion of the imagined labor in his limbs, the kind of deep, satisfying tiredness that comes after an immense effort. But it wasn’t the pain that filled him now—only a warm, glowing sense of contentment. He imagined looking down at the tiny creature in his arms, its eyes barely open, a soft purr rumbling from its little chest. This was his baby, the one he’d dreamed of, and now it was real in this space.

"You’re so small… so perfect," Husk continued, his voice thick with emotion. "I promise I’ll take care of you… keep you safe. You’ll never have to worry, I’ll always be here."

A tear slipped down his cheek, and then another, as the overwhelming mix of love and sadness washed over him. He pressed his lips to the plushie’s head, the fabric dampening slightly with his tears.

The room around him faded away, replaced by the gentle, comforting presence of his kitten. He could almost hear the soft mews, and feel the gentle nuzzling as the kitten sought out his warmth. Husk smiled faintly, the corners of his mouth twitching upward as he imagined the kitten’s tiny paws pressing against his chest, its little body snuggling closer, seeking the safety and security only he could provide.

This was his world, one where he wasn’t alone, where he had something precious to care for and love. He held the kitten closer, whispering soothing words, telling it how proud he was, how much he loved it, and how everything was going to be okay now. In this world, there was no Valentino, no pain, no fear—just him and his kitten, together and safe.

The thought brought a fresh wave of tears, and he couldn’t hold them back any longer. They spilled down his face, quiet sobs shaking his shoulders as he held the plushie close, rocking gently as if trying to soothe both it and himself.

Husk stayed in this dream-like state for as long as he could, letting the warmth and love of his imagined kitten wash over him, easing the pain and sorrow that had plagued him for so long. Here, he was strong, capable, a parent who had endured the most grueling task and come out the other side with something beautiful.

The room was silent except for the soft sound of his crying, the pain in his back temporarily forgotten as he allowed himself to be vulnerable, to feel everything he’d been holding back. This was his moment, his connection to something pure and innocent in a world that had taken so much from him. It didn’t matter that it was only a toy; in this space, in this moment, it was real to him.

Eventually, the edges of the dream began to blur, reality seeping back in as the throbbing in his back grew harder to ignore. But even as the dream faded, Husk held onto the sense of peace it had given him, clutching the kitten plushie close, as if by holding onto it, he could keep a piece of that world with him. He might have been alone in that room, but in his heart, he wasn’t—he had his kitten, and that was enough to keep him going.

[that-genshin-sure-can-impact]

Insert clever title

SAGAU | Imposter AU

There is, to put it simply, no fucking way.

Okay, yeah, you’re a closet fan. You’ve read your fair share of isekai fics for Genshin Impact, even if you would only admit to it in real life at gunpoint.

So sure, maybe the game had been acting up for a couple of weeks.

You’d been receiving weird letters from different characters in your mailbox outside of birthdays, and they didn’t seem addressed to the Traveler like they normally were. Which was fine; the devs probably wanted to lean into pandering to the player base a little harder by having the characters engage directly with the player. And you weren’t about to complain when characters started to appear around the map: Jean at her desk in the Favonius Headquarters, Beidou and Kazuha on the Alcor, Xiangling apparently collecting ingredients around Jueyun Karst. Their absence in the world had been something you’d griped about before, and you were delighted to see it addressed.

It was all explainable stuff, even if nobody else seemed to be talking about it online.

You are not an isekai protagonist. You are not an isekai protagonist.

…

‘Jesus Christ, I’m an isekai protagonist,’ you think, defeatedly, as you sprint into Wolvendom as hurriedly as your poor, atrophied legs can manage. You are not in the best of shape after years of being fucked up physically and you have the most sinking feeling that the Knights of Favonius are going to run you down like how a pack of wolves runs down an elderly deer.

‘Heehoo, wolf similes.’

You mentally pat yourself on the back for that one in the face of your impending doom. If you are going to die (again?) then you are at least going to die clever, even if you are not being clever in a way that matters, like in a way that will perhaps help you escape from your pursuers, who are very audibly gaining on you.

You will admit: you don’t know Wolvendom extensively well. Perhaps if you had the luck to land in Liyue or Inazuma, then you’d be in a position to hide. Maybe even if you had managed to get to Stormterror’s Lair, since you’d mapped out the area while fishing and farming for Ruin Guard parts or Windwheel Asters. But you never had any use for Wolfhooks or Andrius’ boss drops, so you had very little reason to visit Wolvendom.

Amber is with the Knights, you recall grimly, so it probably doesn’t even matter. No matter how well you might have known Mondstadt, she probably knows it better.

So, to recap: you are in bad shape, the Knights are in significantly better shape, you don’t know where to hide and probably couldn’t either way, and Jean sounds like she wants to gut you like a fish, which you frankly didn’t know she was capable of.

Your options:

Lay down and let the earth reclaim you and probably die on Jean’s sword.

See if Andrius will take you in just to spite the Knights. He doesn’t like them, if you recall? But you can only recall with about forty percent certainty. This is not a very good option. Jean’s sword sounds a little more merciful than the fangs and claws of a very large wolf.

See if you can access the teleport waypoints, which you have been trying to do for the last couple of minutes by thinking about it really hard. It does not seem to be working.

???

You are lacking in feasible options. It sure would help if you knew why the Knights were out for your head, but you had tried shouting questions when they’d first started pursuing you and hadn’t gotten much of an answer. Something about blasphemy that you could hopefully revisit when you were in a safer situation.

Your lungs are burning. You dedicate yourself to inhaling through your nose and exhaling through your mouth as your vision starts to tunnel. Your heart has grown weak, and it jackrabbits a frantic pace in your chest.

Heavy footsteps crash through bushes and branches behind you, closer than ever– meters, at best. At least the armor makes them noisy.

What else could you possibly do, but push yourself harder into a blind sprint?

‘Please, please, please let me teleport,’ you think hysterically, not daring to try to look over your shoulder for fear that you’ll trip over a gnarled root or jutting rock. Pain flares up from a stitch in your side. Each loping step on hard-packed earth jars your ankles and knees.

Last-ditch plan. If you can’t force yourself to teleport with the power of your mind alone, maybe you can teleport if you’re close enough to an actual waypoint. You aren’t used to looking at Teyvat through a first-person perspective, so you really can’t be sure, but you swear to God that there should be one right around…

There!

In a reckless move that probably should have broken your ankles, you hurdle over a raised tree root and throw yourself off of a high ledge, eyes locked on the white and blue teleport waypoint— the one by the west shore of Cider Lake.

Distantly, you think you hear the Knights begin to slow. To them, you’re fleeing directly into a dead end, trapped between high cliffs and hundreds of meters of water. In reality, you… are probably doing exactly that, unless the teleport waypoint decides to be a dear and do its job.

It does give you the leeway that you need to clear the last dozen meters and slam the flat of your hand against blue crystal, chanting, Anywhere but here, anywhere but here, get me the fuck out of here-

The waypoint remains still and dull under your fingers, and you realize somewhat belatedly that you need an actual fucking destination and the Knights are closing in and you can see the last rays of sunlight glancing off of Jean’s Favonius sword and the first location that comes to mind is the last place you played in-game so you slam your fist against the waypoint one more time and close your eyes—

.

.

.

You forgot how cold Dragonspine is.

(Part 1/?)

(Next)

[rockingrobin69]

pt. 2

“You always call me that,” Harry Potter said softly. “Full name, like I’m in trouble.”

“It’s your name,” Draco said. “What would you have me call you? Sugar plum? Honeybunch?”

A worrying choking sound filled the room. Harry Potter was… doing something, not smiling but not not-smiling either, something warm and addictive and very pleased.

“No! Nothing like that!”

“Ah. I see. You're more into the whole animal theme. Lambkin? Duckie? Little lion. Or we can go multilingual. Mon petit chou?”

“Malfoy!”

With the beaming, the unfair, unbearable beaming. Wiping his smirk physically, with a hand, “You're right, you're right, cabbage is not an animal, but I'm running out of ideas here, and you’re no help. Snoozypants? Squiddle-dee? Floopsypops?”

Harry Potter laughed so hard he was tearing up. “Is that—is that how you think normal people call each other?”

“Oh,” helplessly, “I’m sorry, High Lord of the Most Esteemed Committee of Naming and Such, is that too far out of the realm of possibility in a world in which Albus Percival Wulfric—”

“Snoozypants?”

“Liked that one, sweetheart?”

There was that blush. The top-to-bottom, hair-roots-to-feet. It made something in Draco’s belly clench, or unclench, or, just, react. It drew him closer somehow.

Harry Potter was still chuckling, tiny little hiccoughs of it making him jump. With another step forward, Draco murmured: “Unless, of course, you have a better idea?”

His eyes were so big. So—startled. Draco, feeling all of a sudden rather predatory, hastily removed himself from Harry Potter’s personal space and launched his overheated body on the sofa. “Well! That’s the matter sorted, then. Snoozlepants it is. I shall make it official upon my next visit to the Ministry. There might be an outcry, at first, but—”

Stopped when Harry Potter was suddenly very close. “Snoozypants,” he said, nonsensically.

“Bless you?”

“No. You said it wrong. You said—something else. I’m Snoozypants, from now on.” Grumpily, almost. Draco, enchanted, was also severely and terribly charmed.

“Well met,” he sputtered, and even put out a hand, like this was a totally sensible thing to do and not, say, a life-or-death situation that required a lot more courage than he ever had. “I’m—” ran out of words.

“Frimpton,” said Harry Potter. “Frimpton Mousipuff Hendersworth. The Third.”

Draco’s eyebrow hiked all the way up. “Mousipuff? That sounds suspiciously close to a certain House in which we both know I was not.”

Harry Potter shrugged. His face was so alight and so impossibly sweet that Draco nearly gagged. “Sorry, nothing for it now. The name’s been decided by the High Lord of Names and So On or whatever it was you said.”

“Hmm,” Draco huffed, oddly happy. “And here I thought I could outrun those stuffy ancestral monikers.”

“You still go by Draco Lucius Abraxas Malfoy?”

Pretending a hex to the chest, staggering backwards, “Point taken. Mousipuff it is.”

“Frimpton Mousipuff. Henderson. The third.”

“Begging your pardon, Snoozles, it was Hendersworth, not—”

“Ah-ha! So you were paying attention! I knew it.”

Somehow, in all this ridiculousness, Harry Potter was now seated next to him, thigh to thigh although the sofa wasn’t that cramped. He was pure ridiculousness in its purest form. Draco’s brain was barely even coming up with syllables anymore.

“Good,” someone said. Harry Potter. He was speaking. “I like it when you pay attention.”

Draco blinked.

“I like it when you—with me,” Harry Potter waved a hand in the very-little space between them. “Like this.”

Ohs kept exploding inside his chest. Highly inconvenient and likely dangerous. “Oh,” Draco said, out loud.

Harry Potter—he—he—lay his head, gently, on Draco’s shoulder. Melted with the biggest, most contended sigh. He was ridiculous and so warm and very real on Draco’s very real body part and none of this made the slightest bit of sense.

Helplessly, obviously, Draco melted too.

(This is not exactly a sequel to this little thing)

[nrdmssgs]

Since you made shifters AU - the crowd (me) asks for more. HCs maybe?

Hi, love! Sorry, it took forever. I wasn't sure, anyone would even notice my little shifters. Anyway, here how it started, and let's check, how it's going.

Ground rules

So when creating shifters AU, I made a few rules, that would help me personally in a world building. These rules are valid ONLY in my AU, so don't worry, it's not a must.

Shifting process is long and painful. While the body may change its form relatively fast - it is the shifter's mind that needs time to adapt. The shifter needs some time to remember, who are they and what is happening. The first minutes after the shifting - it is just a scared animal in terrible physical pain, so it can harm even its beloved ones.

Cat shifters are the most feral of all mammal shifters. You don't want to be in the same room with a freshly shifted lynx or lion - their mind needs much more time to come back to 'normal'.

The closer your 'second face' to your human body (in terms of measurements and body funktions) - the easier your shifting process is. Shifting to a mouse is much more complicated than shifting into a bear (because of size differences). Insect/bird/fish shifters are fucked rare and they are doomed to have much more complicated shifting process.

Wolf-shifters are the most common type in my world, because they learn and adapt faster than any others. Also they are very welcome in military because of that. Everybody wants a fellow wolf in their squad.

Shifting process can be trained in time. The more times you shifted - the faster your body and mind adapts. So the fact that cat shifter Nikolai didn't try to harm his beloved is due to his enormous experience.

Second faces

Second face is simply their animal form. One shifter has only one form. I dont make any segregation in my AU and shifters may work alongside non-shifters just fine. Nevertheless, 141 is a shifter party 100%

Captain John Price

I wouldn't dare to NOT make this man a bear. Because c`mon, it's John Price. He has his timing, his fair share of violence, he's highly territorial, he's absolutely gorgeous. If you're not on his team, "Bravo six going second face" is your death sentence. He can chase his prey for miles, he crosses ice-cold rivers and climbs peaky mountains like it's nothing. There is practically no place, where you could hide from him.

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick

As intimidating, his angry roar can seem to you - your real problems start when you don't see him. Because Kyle is a lynx. He won't let you know, he's around, until you believe, he lost your tracks. You won't hear his feather step behind your back, won't feel his hot breath right above your head as he climbs that tree. He's just a shadow caught in the corner of your eyesight. A trick of light.

Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish

Now Johnny is a wolfboy. Wildly talented, loyal to the end, restless. Harm his beloved ones, threaten his comrades and his piercing amber eyes will hunt you down in your nightmares. You would await him being just a hot headed pup, but when you realize, how skillfully his hunt is planned - you will finally notice unmistakable intelligence and wisdom in every his move. As he will corner you - you will notice that his movements are not just those of a predator, but of a creature with an innate understanding of the world around it.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Ok, this might have me canceled, but hear me out. Ghost is not a wolf shifter in my AU. And there is a reason, why almost nobody even in 141 ever saw his second place. There is a reason, why Simon relies only on his human form, trains like there is no tomorrow, fights, like there is no plan B. This ideal soldier, the legendary war machine was 'blessed' with one of the rarest shifter forms, which can be utilized only on a very special occasions. Ghost has no problems with fighting armies in his human form. But god forbid you meeting him on open waters. It will be oh so quiet after he falls into the darkening abyss under your boat. Only waves licking plastic boat sides and a few birds screaming somewhere far. You would calm yourself down, convince yourself, Ghost is no more around. Drown. Dead and silenced finally. This would be when the dark abyss beneath will shift and move. Your boat would twirl and crash as a paper ship, sacrificed to the wild waters. Your men will disappear beneath the dark waves one by one, and you will have nobody to call for a help around. It's then when you will notice a jet black fin appearing and hiding between waves. He will let you see his second face before he drags you deeper to meet your end. An enormous beast, a deepwater demon with black skin shielding him from the sun and white belly masking him from anyone looking up. The last thing, you'll notice, before his jaws clench around you - will be a strange white pattern on his face. Now that you look at it - it doesn't resemble average orcas white spots. It reminds you of his skull mask.

[tamamatango]

Friendship Power Scaling (normal thing to do)

Hello space frog fans, how’s everyone? Take another random off-the-cuff analysis post while I procrastinate on the more significant things I’m supposed to be doing (including the Project I plan to reveal when I put up the next part of said project) because I feel like my brain is melting like candle wax these days.

Here’s a topic I’m sure people have thought about but not really put a quantification to: I will be ranking the Keroro Platoon and their partners by their mutual closeness, as in which have the most believable Platonic Soulmates dynamic. (Read: strictly platonic we do not ship any of these in this house.) Why? Idk do I look like I know why I do anything?

So first place is Keroro and Fuyuki. Duh. Literal world-saving levels of bestest best besties forever, would be completely devastated without each other, needs very little explanation really. I guess it is sort of funny that in terms of demeanor they are maybe the least similar out of the duos but they adore each other so much it just doesn’t even matter.

Second I would say is Dororo and Koyuki. Koyuki rescued Dororo both physically and emotionally and completely changed his outlook on everything pretty much, and Dororo is Koyuki’s only real constant in her life from the village. Dororo is pretty overtly more loyal to her and their shared duty to the Earth than he is to the platoon lmao. More pronounced in the manga but still. It’s kinda hard to pinpoint their exact relationship (siblings? Dororo is her dad? Koyuki is his emotional support human?) but their bond is definitely Very Special. Even in the new project trailer Koyuki is holding him, they are so friggin sweet dude.

For third I’m gonna be spicy and say it’s Kururu and Saburo yes I am very biased but hear me out. Despite being the only pair that doesn’t live together it is heavily implied that they are near perfectly in sync but just have a really weird indirect communication system that’s sort of obscured from the audience and even more so the rest of the cast. They act nonchalant about it but they will drop whatever they’re doing immediately if the other needs a solid no questions asked. In the manga they’re even more openly buddy-buddy with all the 親友 and マブダチ talk (anime Kururu is tsun af and pretends he’s too cool for friendship) but they get even less screen time together so rip. I’ve spent more than enough time on these two before but yeah they have extreme best bro energy everyone else just isn’t big-brained enough to Get It.

Fourth is Tamama and Momoka. They’re very much cut from the same cloth and are definitely like siblings, helps that they’re the closest in age out of all the pairs (Tamama might even be a little younger than Momoka depending on what exact Keronian age theory you subscribe to). Momoka pampers Tamama like a pet, they occasionally boost each other via training, and Tamama helps with Momoka’s Love Schemes. But despite the fact that they are kindred spirits in several ways I think they put their pursuits of Keroro and Fuyuki a little above their friendship. And Momoka is not afraid to just kinda kick Tama’s ass, sometimes for good reason sometimes for no reason lol. They still love each other they’re just not as deep in each other’s heads as the higher duos.

And finally the take that would get me tarred and feathered in earlier Keroro fandom days which is putting Giroro and Natsumi last. Okay, so we know Giroro is for better or worse extremely dedicated to Natsumi in an arguably unhealthy way (well, it’s not rly arguable lol, but it’s more innocuous if you headcanon father figure theory and not The Other Thing). But does Giroro have the same level of importance to Natsumi? Eh, I mean she sees him as a close family friend and she obviously really cares about him plus certainly favors hanging out with him well over the other little guys (though she is closer with Keroro than it seems), but I think the affection is very lopsided on one end here. They both have a warrior-like disposition and a soft side but idk how much they relate outside that. And they’re not really each other’s clear BFF in the same way the other duos are since Natsumi has Koyuki and Giroro has Keroro (and Dororo as part of the RGB trio but it’s Keroro who is specifically stated to be his Best Friend in the manga). Their friendship is very cute but they just don’t have the same Unbreakable Bond Sauce that the others have yknow. And sadly they kinda Have to be a little less good at reading each other for the Giroro pining over her jokes to land. Sadly.

Well that’s it, kind of ironic the explanations got longer the lower down the list but that’s more where I felt I had to justify my positions. Like nobody is going to argue me about Keroro and Fuyuki right. At least I hope not because then I think we might have watched a different show? I mean I guess they win a bit less overwhelmingly in Sgt Frog Abridged maybe you watched that. Fuyuki gives Keroro a speech about how fucked up he is in that one that was surprisingly metal

[holy-the-hallucinations]

megalodons are fucking extinct, buddy.

cause this is something that pisses me off so much. i got three main things to say here, and i will not try to summarize, cause this is tumblr, i do what i want on here.

just give it a quick read

1. the evidence your seeing is fuckin fake.

hey y’all, welcome to section one. have you been seeing megolodon proof on the internet? cause it’s popular. chances are, what your seeing is either: a misidentified basking shark, or from a fuckass fake documentary by the discovery channel that staged megalodon proof. let me elaborate (threat)

misidentified basking shark-

basking sharks are the second largest shark in the world, behind the whale shark and the largest ever recorded was just over 40 feet (thats real big). contrary to whale sharks, which have a very particular shape, basking sharks have more of a traditional “shark” silhouette. this leads to people seeing BIG SHARK and immediately thinking megalodon, because people dont know their sharks. which is fair, i’m just informing y’all. basking sharks are filter feeders, part of what makes them able to be so big, and stay alive. you may notice that really really big sharks tend to be filter feeders, which ties into a point i’ll make later. so, if you ever see a BIG SHARK, especially from above, check if it’s a basking shark before jumping to conspiracy conclusions.

picture of a basking shark from above, for context.

fake ass documentary-

In 2013, the discovery channel (a channel reserved normally for science) aired a documentary called “megalodon: the monster shark lives”. the problem, is that the documentary was staged, in it’s entirety. the “scientists” were actors, and the evidence was created for the documentary. the only warning is that the documentary was faked, was a extremely quick warning that flashed across the screen in the beginning. since the film was treated as a documentary, people were quick to believe the “evidence” it provided. this is bad by itself, obviously, but is made worse by (you guessed it) THE INTERNET! Short form content, and posting clips of other things is like, the main form of media for people on the internet. many megalodon “proofs” are clips from the film, or its sequels chopped up and stuck in compilations. this mixed with the lack of

Alright, so. this means that there are two things you should do when you see megalodon evidence.

- take a closer look to make sure it aint just a basking shark

- take a look to see if it matches footage from megalodon: the monster shark lives.

dont get misled people. it’s real easy to be.

2. it isn’t physically possible for megalodons to sustain their life without us seeing them ALL THE FUCKING TIME.

basic fucking thinking skills here. big ass shark who needs to move all the time. burns alot of calories or the shark equivalent. needs to eat alot. needs to eat a lot of bigger things. you understand what i’m sayin?

people love to theorize about shit like:

“megalodons in the mariana trench”

“megalodons in the parts of the ocean we havent explored yet”

let me tell ya a little fun fact about both of those places.

THERE ISNT ANYTHING TO FUCKING EAT.

sure, stuff is there. tiny stuff, that could only fuel a megalodon for like, never? it would be biologically impossible for a megalodon to survive for 3.6 million years (at the lowest). say a megalodon was in the mariana trench 3.6 million years ago, it would not be able to sustain life, let alone survive for 3.6 MILLION YEARS in a ecosystem not built for it.

say a megalodon in the mariana trench SOMEHOW, SOMEWAY managed to evolve before it fucking died, the descendants of that megalodon in the mariana fucking trench/deep ocean would be so far from megalodon that it wouldn’t be recognizable.

so, basically. megalodons ate big shit on the surface. if there was ever a megalodon in the mariana trench/deep ocean, it’s dead.

big sharks, especially predators, are real hard to sustain. thats why the buggest modern sharks are filter feeders. also probably why great whites survived and megs didnt.

(also like, we’d see the whale carcasses if there was one just in the regular ocean. we’d also see it, cause like, big fucking shark. we see great whites all the time and they dont grow nearly as big, or eat nearly as much)

3. why are you buying into this shit?

seriously guys, why do you want to believe theres a big ass shark in the ocean so badly?

it doesn’t make any sense. all the conspiracies are all like

“the government is hiding shit from us”

i mean, yeah, probably.

BUT A FUCKING MEGALODON?

how? why?

listen, i know you want to believe your conspiracies, and it makes you feel better or whatever. it’s easier to have some big scary monster than the unknown. but for the love of god, do your research.

sharks are hated enough, the ocean is scary enough, and science is important. please. critical thinking.

pick a different conspiracy, like, idk, mothman.

stop with the misinformation, and the fear mongering, and the STUPID FUCKING TIKTOK VIDEOS. and maybe actually research this cool ass ancient shark? like, really.

anyways, if you want to talk about sharks or some shit, my asks are always open.

do your fucking research

-a very pissed shark enthusiast

(please ask me about sharks)

[ej-rambles]

Headcannons for my Q!BBH!

First things first: His psychical form: 

He has a defined form but it also smokes so it changes from an outside persepective (he has a little bit of control over this but not all the time), its mostly comes from his robes Morticia Addams vibes.  

His face is a little bit of a mess- he’s a demon.  A fallen angel demon to be specific (Since there are natural demons who were born demon (Like Mouse and Tina)) so he’s seen as ‘cursed’.  This curse manifests through his appearance and his like ‘fate’.  His horns start on his forehead, curving backwards and /through/ his head.  They come out where his eyes would have been and go up from there.  Under his eyes is some kind of blood/tears that are permanently on his face (Except for when someone tries to touch it- more on that later).  Due to his lack of eyes he has disembodied eyes that follow him around so he can see- Normally only two are visible and you can only really see them out the corner of your eye.  When Bad is SUPER angry or fighting all eyes open forming a halo around his head.  He also has a long tail with a spade shape end- I can’t decide if he has wings, most of the time I don’t imagine him with them but if I do they’re not in good shape.  They would be more like bat wings- he never had bird/angel wings.  Once he fell they charred and ripped, looking more like shredded ribbon on sticks growing out his back.

Clothing/accessories:

He wears a long grim reaper cloak.  The cloak overs where he eyes would be and he wears another fabric to hid his mouth and make sure that his face is covered.  He wears neatherite jewellery on his horns and chains that connect to his earrings.  He also wears some other jewellery around his horns that signify to other demons that he is cursed.  He is allowed to take off the hood and mask but chooses not to because it frightens people- very few people have seen his face (Dapper, Pomme, and Skeppy- Foolish has come close.)

As for other things that he carries around with him; he always has his scythe on him, as well as a bell, death totems, and a lantern.  The scythe (Sunshine Protector) for protection and a reminder of his children.  The bell is to summon spirits into the real world- he can always see them and interact with them but if he needs them to have physical form or be seen by others he can ring the bell.  The totems are obvious, although he’s immortal the time it takes to regenerate his physical form is too long especially when he’s protecting the eggs.  The lantern is never apart from him.  It is fully reinforced, about the size of someones forearm.  The iron creates small grated gaps in the top to allow airflow.  It’s a beautiful work of art but is easily outshined by the blue flame in the centre.  The flame never goes out it has a very faint glow- not working like a normal candle and different from regular soul fire…although not too different.

Skeppy

Bad and Skeppy had known each other for forever.  Skeppy had been the first one to see Bad’s true face and Bad with Skeppy.  The first time that Bad unmasked Skeppy /Froze/.  Bad knew that would happen.  He was monstrous- it was designed that way for his punishment.  It was a warning to others to not fall as he did.  He turned away first- about to get up and leave.  Skippy grabbed his hand before he could even turn.  He put one hand on Bad’s face eyes searching for /something/.  He puts his hand under where his eyes once were, trying to wipe the tears and blood that stained his face.  Bad jerked back- not having experienced that kind of softness…ever.  He grabbed Skeppy’s hands, all eyes wide open staring at his…friend.  Holding their hands between them Bad lifted the stained hand closer to his face.  He tried to wipe the drying liquid from the other’s hand but it did nothing more than spread the mark, which quickly dried leaving a stain on the Diamond Hybrid’s thumb- one that matched the clear patch on Bad’s face.

Unknowingly Skeppy had formed a soul bond with the cursed demon.

(For diamond golems: they can chose how diamond form on their skin most of the time.  They can chose to have a full diamond second skin armour thing.  Most chose to be fully protected and have additional protection around their head- like Skeppy’s block head)

Face reveal

Like I said only 3 people had seen Bad’s face.  

Skeppy had seen his face, and he was more worried than scared.  Buffering for a moment before reaching out to try and brush away the blood and tear mixture that was permanently on his face.  It was how they ended up soul bonded.  Neither minded.  Nothing changed anyway- it was now just confirmed by the universe.

Dapper had seen his face after a long sleepless night, needing a friendly face to look at.  He wasn’t sure if it could be his but his baby had just reached up and buried their face into the demon’s their dad’s neck.

A similar thing happened to Pomme.  It was just after Bad had adopted- he was doubting how he could possibly take care of two precious babies.  What if he messed up- what if they died- what if- Pomme had found him like that.  Spaced out looking at nothing in particular.  After a small talk, he came clean to her.  He told her his story- not all of it of course- but enough that she understood.  He took off his mask then.  She patted his cheeks, avoiding his tears, before burying herself into his arms.  They stayed like that until Dapper found then and if they all fell asleep together on the ground…that was no one’s business

[amaiguri]

Worldbuilding My Magic System FOR REAL

So Yssaia has HAD a pretty developed magic system for a while. And to recap it for you... I'm going to paste my half of me raving about this on Discord (thank you to @zebee-nyx and @galacticsand and @reaperofcrows for being so cool and letting me be an unhinged worldbuilding mad lad XD):

"What is Ysse?"

So the way Ysse works is its basically invisible dust floating in the air. And if it hits itself at certain velocities and in certain volumes, "spontaneous effects" happen -- like water materializing out of "nowhere" or fire exploding or wind gusts. You're limited a little by Avatar Last Airbender bending logic (you can't summon fully sapient creatures, you can't teleport, you can't control people's minds unless you're like... touching their nervous system, etc.)

So Mages invented the first writing as a way to record what patterns of movement did what. And eventually, used them to communicate these patterns as a shorthand for more generalized concepts...

So writing also got invented sometimes BEFORE agriculture...

"How precise do these movements/velocities need to be?"

It needs to be PRETTY precise. And this is why the average person CAN'T learn magic -- because Ysse in low amounts is invisible to the average person

But mages can see Ysse, which helps a lot. And they can see these shapes OCCURING in the natural world too -- when the wind blows, its because Ysse particles FORMED the Wind Rune/Sigil in the sky BUT this still doesn't guarantee that they cast any spells if they don't have the physical discipline too

So, in theory, "anyone" COULD move their hands PERFECTLY to spontaneously start a fire. But they PROBABLY won't

"How does this impact the natural world?"

This is also how animals and plants can do magic too. Tree roots in the north have roots that have specific patterns that warm up the soil, so snow can actually MELT and give them water and the tree doesn't die

And this is also my excuse for why so many things have bunny ears -- normally, long ears in colder-than-average climates (i.e. All of Yssaia) would be bad. But in Yssaia, these long ears are convergently evolving to channel Ysse. What they channel, exactly, I haven't decided (probably heat lol or something to increase air density so sound travels farther???)

AND all this is ALSO why the Demons are such an abomination -- because their Blood Magic doesn't obey particle physics, they just fucking do whatever they want

"Why do you need to know all this?"

The question at this point, I guess, is basically "How do I make fantasy technology that looks whimsical but also looks at least hypothetically functional under closer scrutiny?"

Yeah, and the full Answer TM to that right now is just <insert the entire design philosophy I haven't discovered yet here>

"So how IS magic going to shape technology, when you design it for the Untitled Yssaia Video Game?"

...Yeah, okay, after brainstorming all this, I think here's my strategy for how I'm going to tackle technology:

Step 2) Create a master list of technologies I will worry about/actually visualize in the game I will want to keep an OPEN LIST so I can add more things to it as I do research/find really specific use cases (such as scrollcases or chopstick holders)

Step 1) Establish symbols for a handful of common things in both the North and the South that at least vaguely make sense with the concept of the particles. So things like: - Fire/Heat - Water/Melt - Ice/Slow - Wind/Quicken - Earth/Apply Force - Sun/Light - Moon/Closing/Locking (Thanks to @zebee-nyx for this one!)

Step 3) Design simple sprites for things that can later be shrunk down and used as set-dressing for maps BUT at a little bigger in scale so they can be shown to other people sensibly (maybe on the same sheet at the walking animations for scale?)

AND WITH THAT, after 5 years of only vaguely imagining all this, this is what I designed, using a combination of symbols I had already designed and dice that I pushed around on my desk to see what kind of patterns they'd make:

Are some of these a little funky and don't really work with real particle physics? Yeah, fair. I'll take notes, if you got 'em. I'm open to critique, if you wanna lol

Last comment that didn't make it into the big discussion with my buds tonight: Ysse particles are how temperature is distributed. So, hot areas have fewer, cold areas have more. I know that isn't how thermodynamics work but does anyone else really?

(Something something eldritch horror thermodynamics post... And my magic-god is an eldritch horror! See? It's perfect!)

Thank you for coming to my #WorldbuildingWednesday post! If you liked this, don't forget to REBLOG and follow the #Yssaia tag or something🥰 (Are calls-to-action cringe? Publicly shame me, if so)

[cup1dxzs]

Darling Little Puppet

Wally Darling X Reader

Chapter 8- Dinner Time

Finishing up with your makeshift night care routine that included cleaning your face and brushing out the tangles in your hair, making it you’d finally set down the last makeup wipe when you’d concluded that you were clean enough.

Leaning into the very soft blanket Wally had ever so kindly gifted you with, you’d sigh as you closed your eyes and just rested there in peaceful silence, that was until you heard your name being called from another room. Groaning you stood up slowly and began to trudge your way to where you heard the voice calling from.

Finally locating the room, you’d take immediate notice that you were inside a kitchen and spotted Wally wearing a white apron with pink hearts littered across, stifling a snort at the humorous sight that laid before you while Wally only stared at you in confusion mostly due to him not understanding what was so funny.

“I’m glad to see you’re enjoying yourself, you also look much better now!” Wally joyfully added as he did very wide smile, which would have been cute if he hadn’t been staring at you with those eyes. Immediately looking away from him as a response to the very awkward tension that formed quickly you’d take notice of what was being held in his hands, which included a small white porcelain bowl with a singular apple resting inside.

“I made this for you! It’s not much since this as much as Barnaby taught me about cooking…here try it!” He’d shove the bowl into your hands a little bit too forcefully as he waited intently for your reaction to the very gourmet dish that was now in your hands.

“Ehehe…thank you, it looks very good.” You gave him a weak smile as you picked up the seemingly normal apple from the bowl, taking a small bite from it as you honestly weren’t sure if it was real or not and wouldn’t put it past you that Wally wouldn’t be a prick and try to prank you by making you take a bite out of a styrofoam apple.

Slowly but surely chewing the real apple after seeing and tasting that it wasn’t a fake, the apple was eventually gone in a few seconds. Well, not actually, you’d taken your time to eat it but you hadn’t noticed how hungry you were and by the time you were done it had you wishing you had more. Looking back up at Wally who had his back turned to you as he cleaned his countertop, it was a bit silly how he wore that adorable apron and took like 30 minutes to make the food when it was just a apple in a bowl.

Even as much as you wanted to indulge yourself in this little make believe world you obviously couldn’t shrug off the fact that this wasn’t your world? Maybe even reality, point being you had to find a way out, out in the real world and back to the cozy confinements of your house but for now you’d just have to play nice.

It was almost as if there was something itching at you, telling you not to trust the blue pompadour wearing puppet but it only came out as a faint feeling, strongest when you could physically feel Wally’s eyes boring into the back of your head making you feel as if he knew something you didn’t, but how could he? He was just some silly puppet that came on television every Saturday morning to distract kids and let their parents sleep in a little bit later.

Setting down the bowl with the very skinny core inside, hearing the soft clink it made as it came in contact with the counter that momentarily distracted you from your whirlwind of thoughts. Yawning while doing a big stretch with your arms and moving to rub your eyes that hung heavy with drowsiness.

“What time is it?” You’d question aloud, seeing Wally turn around and point at the wall with one hand while he’d grab your bowl with the other, following to see where he pointed you’d see the circular clock with a yellow outline, walking up closer to get a better look at it but only to see that it wasn’t an actual clock but instead a illustration of the sun setting in a cycle with the small hand pointing to the moon in a dark sky making you assume it was nighttime.

“What a strange clock…” You’d mumble quietly as you tapped the glass that protected the inside, walking back into the kitchen area where Wally was finishing up cleaning the kitchen thought in your honest opinion it wasn’t even dirty but maybe he was a clean freak?

“It’s running late, you should head to bed now. Getting a full night of slee-“ Wally spoke before you’d interrupt him “Yea, yea, yea I get it, something about it being good for the brain, you’re starting to sound like my mom.” You’d lightheartedly chuckle as you began to make your way into the living room, making sure to throw in a quick good night to your very kind host.

Wow.

Now gripping the bowl with inhuman strength and hearing it slowly begin to crack under the pressure, his eyes being blown out so wide you could barely see the whites of his sclera and a grin so wide it looked like it was physically painful, His full attention being trained on you as he watched your figure disappeared around the hall to go rest your pretty little head.

You sure were something else.

———————————————————————————

In this chapter we get a small peak at how Wally feels towards reader, how exciting!!!! Hope you guys enjoy todays chapter and remember to stay safe, love you all!

-ChillyKitty

[dumbdomb]

26.a scenario that you’ve replayed multiple times?

as if i don't constantly talk about it around here like a broken record? haha, ok... 🩷

Read my pinned post BEFORE you interact: like, reblog, reply, dm, ask, or follow. Must be over eighteen years of age to interact. 18+ only. You do not have my consent to "Like" this post without reading my pinned first. MDNI.

hanging out with a friend and doing some normal stuff, like movies or gaming. something that involves us being physically close but not in a sexual way. and yet it always leads to us being more affectionate, or maybe play wrestling, or just a little more touchy-feely with each other... in an absolutely platonic way, of course.

i don't usually think about hooking up with strangers or acquaintances. i like having a solid connection with people i'm intimate with, so it's not uncommon for me to fantasize about situations with "friends," which doesn't necessarily mean any of my actual friends. it's about a partner you have trust and a strong established bond with, someone you know well enough to really understand your emotions and expressions - like, how you are and how you process information, etc... they know you...

when i think about having a friend get closer to me, i feel safe with them (and i know they they feel safe with me, too). we're friends! so, of course, we know what each other's intimate desires are - we're best friends!! it makes total sense that they'd want to feel how much of my fat titty they could fit in their hand...

is it really so wrong to want the most trusted person in your life to care about you too much... as if you were always more than just a friend to them? a "real friend" would never betray your trust like this, but a true "partner" would never let you feel unwanted. the old classic slow burn, friends to lovers, with an emphasis on some cnc nipple play because i'm a complete slut for it!

i think about something like this almost every time i touch myself. the special relationship between two idiots who are in love with each other, but they don't know it bc they keep everything within this blurry lane between 'friend' and 'partner'. i've just always been smitten with the idea. it resonates with me. i may have watched too many hallmark movies, but i think this is a really great concept and totally will happen to me one of these days. i'm so sure of it, i mean... why else would i even have these big tits if not to be caressed and fondled by my most favourite person in the world?. 🥺

NO: lurkers, likes only, inactive, empty, or blank blogs. DO NOT LIKE MY CONTENT. DNI. ♥️

[acquired-stardust]

Game Spotlight #10: MediEvil (1998)

Spooky season is upon us, which means two themed spotlights! Join Ash as she takes a look back at a game from her childhood in this Halloween edition of Acquired Stardust’s gaming spotlights!

Often discussed here is the legendary year of 1998, a year in which it seemed like pop culture at large was firing on all cylinders, and a big one in my childhood personally. It was the year of the one and only Disney movie I’d seen as a kid, Mulan, which helped me feel a little bit closer to my Chinese immigrant great grandfather, a figure that loomed large in my family. The world of video games saw heavy hitters with enduring legacies such as Spyro the Dragon and Burning Rangers. Sandwiched between a lot of all-time classics is SCE Cambridge’s MediEvil, a game that despite being noteworthy at the time has fallen off in terms of relevancy steeply.

Combining a Tim Burton-esque aesthetic and gameplay inspired by Capcom’s Ghosts n Goblins and Nintendo’s Legend of Zelda, and much like Megaman Legends was released before Ocarina of Time. MediEvil stars the reanimated skeleton of Sir Daniel Fortesque, revered ‘hero of Gallowmere’, revived in an unwitting coincidence by century-past nemesis Zarok who’s magic creates an army of the dead, gives life to stone statues and corrupts the living into doing the evil sorcerer’s bidding. An interesting turn of events in the opening of the game reveals that the moniker ‘hero of Gallowmere’, ostensibly earned by Sir Dan in the past fight against Zarok a hundred years before the start of the game, is actually completely misattributed to him, having actually been struck down in the opening moments of the climactic battle. This detail serves as the motivating force for Sir Dan’s quest, seeking to redeem himself and banish Zarok once and for all. It also touches on a very interesting concept as a hobbyist historian, the cliche that “history is written by the victor” is a very real thing and something that multiple fields of history grapple with - many things in the past (especially the very distant past) are tragically unknowable and our understanding of accepted history can be shaken by discoveries that have literally laid beneath our feet all along. It’s a small hook but one that’s always been fun for me and compelling enough.

MediEvil’s action-platformer gameplay is fairly standard for the time, featuring a number of strongly themed levels spread out across a world map which allows the player to tackle batches of levels in any order they choose. True to its Zelda inspirations the player will collect a variety of weapons and items that allow for new methods of attack along with new exploration opportunities, often allowing backtracking into previous levels to access new routes that are further populated with gold, health recovery or yet more items. Hidden in each level is also a ghostly chalice, normally inaccessible even if found, that is made obtainable through the defeat of enemies in the current level and will grant access to the Hall of Heroes, a Valhalla-esque realm in which Sir Dan’s former allies in the battle of Gallowmere now reside with their spirits bound to statues bearing their likeness. Each chalice collection offers a conversation with one of Dan’s many past allies and a gift, in many cases upgrades to overall health capacity or gold but many encounters also see the ally bestow their legendary armament to Dan to aid in his fight against the returned evil sorcerer. Chalice collection isn’t particularly difficult or involved, but adds a wonderful sense of progression to the game along with its great rewards.

While it may not be especially difficult to physically collect the chalices, fulfilling the qualification for it can prove slightly frustrating. Combat is very simplistic and slightly clunky, the player often not able to avoid taking damage depending on the weapon chosen as Dan and an enemy frantically bump into each other causing damage to the player. The camera can also be an issue and was even back in 1998. Most of these issues are remedied by familiarizing yourself with the way health and revival works, and realizing it’s actually very simple to spend a few minutes farming the first level to replenish your health stock before tackling a new level with more limited resources. Level design is also largely good, though these issues do come to a head in a later stage (the dreaded ghost ship). Despite some blemishes and minor frustration MediEvil is a game that rewards familiarity well and can take experienced gamers (and ones who adjust to its particular feel) very little time to beat. For the purposes of giving this game a spotlight my run of MediEvil only took four and a half hours, and the Playstation 4 remaster, released in 2019, took under four hours.

On the subject of the PS4 remaster, it’s a largely improved version of the game and in many cases a straight upgrade. Controls have been smoothed slightly, the graphics have kept their Burton-esque charm without straying too far visually or tonally like the 2005 Playstation Portable remake which looks and comes across a lot closer to Spyro the Dragon than MediEvil proper, which can be genuinely eerie at times especially as a child and especially in 1998. Replacing the text-only tomes that give lore and gameplay advice is new narration by veteran voice actress Lani Manella which also adds to the experience quite well without changing it into a more comedic or childish one which unfortunately crops up in detrimental ways in both the 2005 PSP remake and MediEvil’s 2000 sequel, MediEvil 2, also on the Playstation console.

Speaking of being a child in 1998, MediEvil has a special place in my heart for being one of the few times I can remember my whole immediate family bonding over an experience. In an especially difficult early childhood, this game is one of the only things I can remember bringing together my entire immediate family to bond and gush over. To this day my mother vividly remembers attempting to dodge the boulders of early level Cemetary Hill, as well as the eerie possessed villagers of the Sleeping Village. Although the 2019 remaster is a straight upgrade in many areas there is still an unmatched charm that the original brings largely through its visuals. There’s just something so charming about Dan’s low polygon count depiction along with many other enemies and locales. The remaster is still very strong visually and may fit more modern sensibilities (especially those who have a hard time visually with the distinct polygons featured in many Playstation titles). Both versions are worth playing, and the relatively low playtime for those who adjust to its gameplay means you can indeed tackle both the original and 2019 remaster in pretty short order if you so desired.

A gem hidden among the stones, MediEvil is undoubtedly stardust.

- Ash

[that-starlight-prince]

How much does it suck being in a body that isn't either what your brain appreciates or the world appreciates? And being stuck between wanting to do more to change yourself (appearance wise, clothing, gender) but also knowing there are limits to what you can do because of money and aging and because the world responds aggressively and negatively to things too far outside the normal.

It fucking sucks anon!

And just speaking for myself - it really fucking sucks to feel like being visibly outside the normal would at least have a chance of making me happy, but to be so fucking afraid of being seen at all that I'll probably never do anything about that. I know I play up the scared cat shtick here sometimes but it's a lot closer to the truth than I wish it was. If I'm in public and people are noticing me then that's a problem! I don't want to be seen, I don't want to be noticed, I don't want to be recognized. And I know what caused me to be this way and why I continue to be this way but knowing that doesn't actually change anything!! (but that's another rant)

Maybe most of all it fucking sucks because I feel so strongly like I shouldn't give a shit about what's normal, I shouldn't care about being outside the normal or being seen as outside the normal, I shouldn't give a fuck what other people think, and the nice thing about being here is that I can be...but in the Real World I do care, and I don't think I'm capable of not caring, and it makes me feel like a fucking coward. Which I am tbf and like I said I have my reasons but I don't like feeling that way. I end up trying to do little things that make me feel and come across as a little more androgynous, and that does feel nice, but. This is probably why I just mostly try not to think about my body at all if I can help it.

And yeah it doesn't help that the body that I actually want is not physically attainable (and the body I actually actually want is no body at all, but that's even more unattainable), and the ways I could realistically change my body aren't really what I'm after. And I don't even want to think about aging, the thought of looking like my dad one day is a thought I'd prefer never enters my head again.

[nedlittle]

top five Classic Literature Tomes to get the most fantastic array of brain rot

the use of the word 'tomes' assumes books over 400 pages, however most of the classics i've truly gone cuckoo bananas over are shorter, but i'll try for some meaty ones

sorry to be the most boring person alive but moby-dick good actually. i DID give it 2.75 when i read it and i did sort of hate the experience but jesus christ herman melville i am going to charge your ghost property tax in my brain!! genuinely a Rich Text. i would love to study it in a class. sometimes a story is a coffin that is also a lifeboat. sometimes fate is a noose tightening around your neck the closer you get to the end of a story you've already lived. sometimes you have to make a story epic to ensure that the people in it did not die in vain, even though they did, and you will too. sometimes a whale is a fish (?) and also a book (?) that is the entire argument for one of the cetology chapters. my favourite incorrect whale fact chapter is the one where ishmael lists approximately two dozen things that are a) white b) scary to prove that the titular whale is not an isolated case. the one about skull dimensions is also an all-timer. read a little context about melville at the time of writing, read his breathtakingly romantic letters to nathaniel hawthorn, then read moby-dick. I SURVIVE MYSELF! MY DEATH AND BURIAL WERE LOCKED UP INSIDE OF MY CHEST! i am actually planning to reread it, once war and peace (& emails) is sufficiently underway. other suggested reading: the whale: in search of giants of the sea by philip hoare; in the heart of the sea: the tragedy of the whaleship essex by nathaniel philbrick; the whale: a love story by mark beauregard

normally this is where i would rec the brothers karamazov because i am a one trick pony however more people should read the idiot. yes you can tell that dostoevsky planned the first section then flee by the seat of his pants for the rest, but it is a Blast. i have previously described it as the world's longest and most high-stakes game of "yes, and?" and i stand by that assessment. it's really just a blast up until the last couple chapters which are a foregone conclusion and you KNOW the end of the story is going, because you've been told how it ends, but you still want it to end differently! incredible mimetic desire on display! myshkin is ostensibly in the centre of two love triangles (nastasya ➡️ myshkin ⬅️ aglaya and myshkin ➡️ nastaya ⬅️ rogozhin) but the actual reality is like. nastaya is playing homoerotic 4d psychosexual mind chest with aglaya while myshkin watches, meanwhile nastaya and rogozhin uh. certainly have something Hinky going on but rogozhin and myshkin are probably the gayest relationship i've personally encountered in dostoevsky. i would need a chart to explain. if you've read any other fedya d there's some familiar territory that could get repetitive, and half the scenes are people in drawing rooms fighting over nothing. it fucks.

it's not long but notes of a crocodile by qiu miaojin is a Thinker. autofiction within autofiction. transgressive both in style and substance. if you're a fan of the bell jar/cassandra at the wedding/special topics I'm calamity physics/media about pretentious literary girls with fucked up brains, then this is a book for you. captures the listlessness of being in your early twenties and seeing no future where you survive and the necessity of queer friendship and grassroots activism and there's a very real anthropomorphic crocodile who is also a metaphor for lesbianism and you WILL cry over the crocodile! fantasy is a cornerstone of hope! the crocodile is allowed to reach out and find a way to live when neither protagonist nor author can find a way.

also not long but there is so much delicious gender in my ántonia. ántonia and jim really ARE queering heterosexuality by being straight in the most gayass t4t way. another book that's enriched by learning about the author's bio and specifically her gender presentation (the intro to the barnes & noble edition makes a great point about how cather is allowed to vocalize her desire for women if her words are in the mouth of a young man--literally, there's a prologue written by an unnamed narrator who isn't not cather telling you 'this happened to my buddy jim'. layers upon layers of authorship. but also jim is a woman and ántonia (tony!) is a man and they take refuge in the assumption of outward-presenting heterosexuality to get real fucky with gender. does lose a little steam once jim goes to college but dear god could cather string a sentence together. every formal description of this book makes it sound unbelievably boring but do it for the gender and the beautiful descriptions of nebraska

plum bun: a novel without a moral by jessie redmon fauset is a good chaser if you've read passing. they were published the same year and tackle similar themes but with vastly different voices and outcomes; nella larsen is beloved and renowned today, but hardly anyone has heard of jessie redmon fauset (i hadn't until someone on here recommended plum bun to me!). personally i prefer plum bun to passing--though only by a slight margin and this is a case of the two cakes rule; they're both good! fauset's prose has such a rich texture that you can really sink into, and the way the early parts unfurl were very reminiscent of a tree grows in brooklyn. also both a Romance and a satire/interrogation of marriage plots if you're a romance rearer. we are WAAAAY overdue for a jessie redmon fauset revival! give my girl her due!