#I am a humble mushroom man | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shuriken696 · 1 year

Text

//I'm legit should be writing my fic rn but this is getting to my head.//

Has anyone ever thought of an AU where when SQQ is dead, his soul via self imploding, goes to Ghost City?

But the way that it's been transported is a complication. A Sun and Moon Dew flower is a 'rare plant' after all. You can't just come back to life that easily.

Hua Cheng just looks at Shen Yuan who is confused af as to why he was in front of a throne. He knew that Shang Qinghua messed up on the SMD Mushroom but he didn't think it was that bad!

"Fuck, am I actually dead? Is this Hell?" Shen Qingqiu asks Hua Cheng. He tries calling on to the System but it was to no avail.

"Daozhang is a curious case. His stay in Ghost City is only temporary only when his 'plant' is fully ready is he able to go." Hua Cheng tilts his head. He did not expect something so unexpected to happen today. This soul didn't even turn into a ghost flame upon meeting him! He just came fully corpreal like it wasn't even a problem at all.

Well, at least Shen Qingqiu isn't fully dead if that counts as anything. He would be able to come back. His plan would work.

But, PIDW had never mentioned anything about a Ghost City, or any description of the man in front of him!

PIDW was more extended than just the novel? Or was it a deleted outline that Shang Qinghua robbed the readers of?

"How long would that be?" Shen Qingqiu had to get back as soon as he could. What if Binghe got mad at someone else now that the scum villain is gone? "Can I leave this place? I need to be somewhere and it has to be as quick as possibe" He figured that maybe he could float around and haunt people like they showed in the movies?

"I can't allow you to do that, Daozhang. It's against the rules." Hua Cheng raised his eyebrows. This man refused to rest in peace even though he had sacrificed his life for his disciple.

Or was he just like Hua Cheng, refusing to rest in peace until he reunited with the one he loved?

"That man who you sacrificed your life for, what is he to you?" The Ghost king asked. Shen Qingqiu pulls out a fan from his sleeve.

"He is my student. The sword's influence on him was too much so as the one who was responsible for all of this, I had to repay him for the faults I did." Shen Qingqiu answered easily.

Hua Cheng wanted to snort. With the way he's answering, this was more than just a Master-disciple relationship. But if the man didn't know, then he wouldn't tell him. It was more interesting this way anyways.

But for the sheer fact that this cultivator wanted to go back to the man he sacrificed himself for (or what he could assume by reading in between the lines) Hua Cheng couldn't help but see himself in him and respecting him, just a bit.

"I can get you a good place to live while you're residing here but daozhang hasn't told me his name?"

Shen Yuan bows.

"This humble one is Shen Qingqiu, Peak Lord of Qing Jing Peak of the Cang Qiong Mountain Sect."

There was more to 'Shen Qingqiu' that met the eyes, but everyone had their own secrets. As long as he didn't mind Hua Cheng's business then he wouldn't pry into Shen Qingqiu's as well.

"And I am Hua Cheng, the ruler of this city."

Oh shit, I was talking to the leader this whole time?! Shen Qingqiu wanted to smack himself in the head for messing up that badly. Of course the man who was sitting on the fancy throne would be of high status!

Shen Qingqiu bowed again, apologizing for his lack of manners earlier and Hua Cheng waves him off.

"It's alright. Daozhang didn't know."

After that, Hua Chang and Shen Qingqiu became somewhat friends and HC tells SQQ about him trying to find Xie Lian.

(In between that, Wei Wuxian also pays Ghost City a visit, but thats a story for another time)

Years after Binghe and SQQ are married, they find Hualian on a crossing path and Hua Cheng just looks at Binghe and then to Shen Qingqiu.

"Does he treat you well?" Shen Qingqiu hid a smile behind his fan. He didn't think the Ghost King cared that much.

"He's alright. When I saw you, I never thought he and I would get together."

Meanwhile Binghe is so confused. How does his Shizun know this man thats reeking of resentful energy? Why is this man holding hands with someone who had pure energy? Is that even possible?

His Shizun had some explaining to do later!

#svsss #svsss fanfiction #svsss shen qingqiu #tgcf #tgcf fanfic #tgcf hua cheng #hualian #because a MXTX crossover is needed and I got nothing else #luo binghe #xie lian #bingqiu #bingyuan #SY is like 'i don't get paid enough for this bs ngl'#hua cheng and SQQ have a lot more in common than we think #ok that's stretching it a bit far but oh well #why do I think they would be somewhat buddies? I have no freaking clue #just wait until they meet WWX tho #WWX talking to SQQ about monsters and him feeling like he belongs- ugh i'll brainrot about that later

259 notes · View notes

ourrootsgodeep · 1 year

Text

i would not ask, and neither would you

aemond x witch!reader

tags: smut smutty smut smut, minors go away, ooc aemond probably, pining, hands brushing against each other, this could alternately be titled autistic bitches in love, the reader is implied to worship the old gods but you can interpret it however you want, not proofread we die like vaemond

a/n: i’ve been insanely busy and this is so late but this was very inspired by a dragon without wings by @rottingviserys which is one of my favorite fics ever so definitely go read that!!

that fucking dragon had crushed all of her morels, she thought crossly.

the rare, delicious mushrooms were difficult enough to find as it was, and when the huge dragon had fallen from the sky, it had fallen right onto the patch she’d been cultivating for a year.

humming in annoyance, the witch walked over to the huge beast. definitely dead. huge fucker. big as a castle. still, maybe she could use its blood or teeth or hide for something useful.

she stepped close to its head, poking the scaled flesh gingerly. still warm. the witch walked in a circle around it, carefully inspecting the saddle. vhagar, it read on the side. wasn’t that the one eyed prince’s dragon? oh well. that saddle’s still good leather. ooh, a pretty piece of beadwork in the targaryen colors. those would fetch a pretty penny. ooh, is that a boot? if the other one is still there, that could buy a sapling for an apple tree or two. or a new dress,or a few skeins of fabric.

she reached up, undoing the buckles with careful hands before she froze, inhaling deeply in shock at what was still strapped into the saddle. the other boot was definitely still there. as well as the legs, torso, arms, and head attached to them. the head of aemond targaryen, the kinslayer, the one-eyed, and public enemy number one. as well as a pretty nasty sword wound through the shoulder.

shit.

———

she was just finishing labeling her new bottles of dragon’s blood when he awoke.

his white hair was damp with sweat from the humidity from the coming storm, his sapphire eye gleaming in the dim light from the fire. “good morning, your highness,” she said softly. “how did you sleep?”

“where am i?” he asked groggily. he sat up suddenly, straight-backed and glaring, then cried out at the pain in his shoulder and back.

the witch stood up quickly and rushed to check on his shoulder, clicking her tongue in dismay. “you’ll rip your stitches, highness,” she said softly. true enough, the tiniest bit of blood was beginning to seep through the soft cloth bandage. she began to unwrap it gently, trying not to hurt him.

he grit his teeth and she could see his violet eye moving, taking in her little cottage. she had him lying on the meager guest bed, at the wall nearest the fire in her little kitchen. he could see the door to what he assumed was her bedroom in the corner, with strange signs inscribed over the doorways. there were herbs hanging in bundles from the ceiling, strange bottles in shelves on the walls, stacks upon stacks upon stacks of books. it looked… comfortable at least. if shabby and cluttered could be considered comfortable.

“are you a witch?” he asked suddenly.

the woman paused for a moment before nodding.

his face contorted in what she could only assume was fear confusion. he threw his shoulder from her hand and cried out at the pain, the blood flowing quickly now. he collapsed back against the bed, face contorted in pain, but still fumbled for the small knife she had been using to cut the bandages. he held it clumsily in his left hand, pointing it at her in shaking fingers. “get away, heathen,” he spat. “i’ve had enough of your kind, i won’t suffer you anymore.”

the witch scoffed. “ah, yes, my lord. please, i humbly beg your pardon for rescuing you from being suffocated under your gargantuan dead dragon, dragging you a mile and a half to my home, and using my precious time and resources to save the life of a man who not a year ago burned huge swathes of the place i have lived for five years. it was very inconsiderate of me.”

“i don’t need you to tell me what’s right and wrong, witch,” he sneered. “i heard enough of the lies your kind tell with…” his face contorted in what she couldn’t be sure was pain or rage. as angry as he made her, the witch pitied him. she hated seeing people in pain. even him.

so she sat down on the floor beside his bed. he looked down at her in confusion, but seemed to be slightly less threatened by her. he lowered the knife, but still gripped it tight. “what are you doing?” he asked, his voice guarded.

“sitting down,” the witch responded. “wild animals are less threatened by you when you make yourself less threatening. i thought the same might work for you. your judgment seems to be clouded, probably by pain and mental disturbance. mental trauma and physical trauma, as it were. when humans are traumatized and on guard, their more animalistic instincts sometimes cloud their logical judgment.”

he blinked. “you are a very strange woman.”

she nodded matter-of-factly. “i know. i’m not a bad one, though. and i would like to rebandage your arm, please.”

he looked at her oddly for a long moment, his face unreadable. the silence was only broken by the first patterings of rain against the thatched roof of her cottage. he finally nodded.

she started to get up quickly, then remembered how on edge he was and started to move slower, making sure he could see where her hands were or what she was reaching for in the cabinets. he was quiet, watching her intently with his piercing violet eye. “what is your name?” he asked after a moment. his voice was surprisingly quiet.

the witch hesitated for a moment before responding. “y/n.”

———

“you do know the old saying about sleep being the best nurse?” the witch said in a groggy voice, rubbing her eye with the heel of her hand.

aemond was sitting straight up, staring at the wall in the dark. “i can’t.”

“it’s been three weeks since you came here, highness, and you have barely slept at all.” the witch sighed and lit a candle, setting it on the small table and sitting down on the rickety chair. she nodded in his direction. “would you like to talk?”

he blinked at her. “no.”

she nodded again pensively. “tea, then?”

he frowned at her. “you are quite the strangest person in the world.”

“that isn’t an answer.”

he groaned and lay back down on the bed. “yes, fine. tea.”

the witch hummed softly in response, rising and lighting a fire in the dying hearth. aemond watched her as she moved through the house, she was pretty, he thought. for a witch.

“may i ask you something?” her voice cut through the slight fog of his thoughts.

he blinked. “fine. ask away.”

“what is your favorite color?”

“…what?”

she turned back around, pulling two mugs from the shelf and setting them on the table. she measured tea leaves from a jar as she spoke. “favorite color. a color that you prefer over every other color?”

he scowled. “i know what a favorite color is. children have favorite colors.”

“not just children. mine, for example, is orange.”

aemond smiled, somewhat to himself. “orange?”

“mm. like autumn leaves.”

he inhaled the steaming, fragrant scent of the tea as she poured the water over it. she pushed a cup over to him and he gladly took it, getting up and sitting across from her at the table. “why do you ask?” he said, taking his first sip and looking across the table at her with intense eyes.

“i’m making clothes for you, since your old ones are filthy and torn and burned. i thought they should be personal to you. at least a little.”

“hm.” he took another drink, feeling the heat warm him from the inside out. “i expected you to ask about alys. or my family.”

“i will never ask. you will tell me when you are ready. even if you are never ready, i don’t mind.”

he looked at her for a long moment, watching the firelight dance across her features. she wasn’t a cold, glamorous beauty like alys, certainly, but she had a feeling about her that made him feel at ease. pretty and warm. like firelight.

“blue,” he answered after a long moment. “my favorite color is blue.”

———

you’ll be glad of the cloak later, y/n had said.

she had been right, of course, but aemond was loath to admit it.

it had been six months now since y/n had found him, and as unsettling as the fact was for him to admit, he enjoyed her company greatly. she was amusing, and kind, and respectful. she sang as she worked some days, while he did the little he could to help around the house, and he swore sometimes the birds stopped to listen. he was fascinated by her every move, her sewing that she showed him in the evenings, the baking of bread in the mornings, the way her thighs and hips moved and flexed when she walked or knelt before the trees she worshiped, the peeks of her body he could see when she bent over and he could see down her dress. she wore mostly loose, light clothing, so she could move around, but sometimes, in the rains, or on hot, damp days, her clothes would stick to the shape of her, and he could almost imagine what she-.

he wrapped the deep blue fabric tighter around him and tried to focus on his prayers. “father, give me the strength to-.”

“what on earth are you doing?” his singular eye snapped open. the object of his musings was standing there with a basket of mushrooms on her hip, looking at him curiously. “you do know that that it is about to rain?”

the neckline of her loose cotton dress had slipped down, and he could see the curve of her shoulder and the hollow of her collarbone. he grunted a response. “i do.”

“and yet you are out here, kneeling against a rock?”

he shuffled his knees slightly. “praying.”

she snickered. “how pious, to sit in the damp and muck, to get dirt on your clothes. tell me, prince, do your gods require you to put mud in your septs as well, that you may kneel in a way that is more pleasing to them?”

he scoffed. “no. the septs are made to be holy places.”

she hummed softly. “so then, this is not a holy place?”

“unholy things happen here all the time.” y/n smirked slightly and he swore under his breath. “wait, fuck, no, you know that’s not what i meant-.”

“no, no, you already said it. you can’t go back now.”

he groaned audibly. “you are insufferable.”

“and unholy, it would seem.” y/n shifted the basket on her hip, walking over to stand next to him, smiling mischievously down at him. “tell me, prince, what have i done that is so sinful?”

“other than practice witchcraft and idolatry?”

“those are both bad points. my gods might say you are practicing witchcraft and idolatry just the same. both of us would be right, and therefore neither of us would be.”

“you are annoyingly intelligent.” he stood up and brushed the dirt from his knees, his still-healing arm protesting at the movement. she noticed him wince and touched his arm in concern, pushing back his shirt and inspecting the scar. aemond could feel her breath on his shoulder, the soft touches of her fingertips along the ragged skin. the first drops of rain started to fall on the two of them, and a drop fell on y/n’s face, running down her nose and into the corner of her perfectly kissable- no. that was a terrible idea.

“we should get inside.” she brushed a raindrop from her hair, and before he could stop himself, he reached up and pushed the offending strands behind her ear.

she froze, looking up at him, her lips slightly parted. in her own mind, she admired the arch of his nose, the intense, deep violet of his eye. he was so, so close, close enough to-.

“yes.” he cleared his throat. “yes, inside.” he started to follow her before halting suddenly. “y/n?”

she turned to him. “yes.”

aemond took a deep breath. “alys. she put a love spell on me.she stole away years of my life, she… i only realized it the day i almost- well. the day i met you. it’s why i didn’t like them. witches.”

she nodded in understanding, then tilted her head. “and now?”

aemond blinked. “now what?”

“do you like them now?”

he looked at her, taking in the way her hair curled in the damp of the rain. “i like some of them.”

———

their clothes were steaming slightly in the heat of the fire. the rain had soaked through them on their way back home, and aemond had immediately lit a fire in the hearth. it felt good, to him: to be able to do something for her. y/n did most things, he mused. she had taken him in when she didn’t have to, risking her own life to save his. right now, she was kneeling in front of the fire, contemplating the flames.

tension was thick in the air. both of them seemed far too aware of what had nearly transpired in the rain, as the secretive glances and brushes of hands had built up over the months. both of them were aware that they needed to change out of their soaking wet clothes, but neither seemed to want to move, frozen next to each other and staring into the heat. until y/n’s hand flexed slightly, almost imperceptibly, linking her little finger with aemond’s.

something in him snapped at the touch, and he leaned down, pressing a kiss to her mouth and pulling away abruptly. they looked at each other for a long moment, cheeks flaming, before y/n reached up, tangling her hands in his hair and pulling his lips down to meet her own. it wasn’t a gentle kiss, rather rough and passionate, filled with things he wanted to say to her, but could not articulate. instead, his hands made their way up her sides, grasping at the soft flesh and pulling moans from her lips. she gripped his shirt tightly, tugging the damp fabric eagerly in her rush to get it off.

he pushed her away, panting slightly, and pulled his shirt off slowly, watching her reaction. y/n’s eyes traced the pattern of the scars from the wounds she had stitched together those months ago. she walked forward and brushed the raised skin with gentle fingertips before leaning down and pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss to his collarbone, right at the apex of the scar.

aemond tilted his head back at the touch of her lips and exhaled, eye fluttering shut. y/n made her way back up his neck, leaving soft pink marks in her wake. aemond opened his eye, taking her in again, before turning her gently with a touch to her shoulder and beginning to unlace her dress. he bit gently at the junction of her shoulder and neck as the dress fell from her body, before laving over the mark with his tongue. he stepped back, taking in her newly-naked body. he raised his eyebrow slightly. “nothing underneath?”

y/n shook her head, cheeks flaming and lips swollen. “it’s been too hot before now.”

aemond’s pupil dilated. “you mean, you’ve been walking around with nothing underneath your gown all day?”

y/n laughed sheepishly, ducking her head down to avoid his hungry gaze. “i’m surprised you didn’t notice.”

he crossed the space between them in one long stride and took her face in his hand, kissing her roughly while palming the flesh of her tits, eliciting a moan from her lips. she took his hand in hers and brought it down to the apex of her thighs, guiding his fingers to her clit and moaning softly when they made contact with the swollen flesh. he stroked the nub gently at first, testing her reactions, then circling it roughly. in return, she hesitantly brushed her fingers over the prominent tent in his trousers. at his encouraging groan, she gripped him tighter, feeling the thick length in her hand. he took her hand and guided it inside his pants, groaning deeply into her mouth when she gripped him and began to stroke him gently, then harder, her hand already lubricated with the precum dripping from his tip.

aemond pushed her gently backwards, walking her into her bedroom, not bothering to disconnect their lips. he quickly registered that he had never been in her room before y/n’s knees hit the bed and they buckled, pulling him on top of her in a tangle of limbs and lips. he vaguely felt y/n’s hands tugging his trousers down over his hips and gripping his cock again, stroking it before guiding it to her entrance. he pushed in slowly, his shoulders tensing with the effort of staying gentle for her.

y/n pressed soft kisses to aemond’s face, peppering them around the eye patch he still hadn’t removed. he frowned slightly, thinking she meant to take it off, but she shook her head. “no,” she whispered. “not ‘til you’re ready.”

he kissed her again in gratitude and began to move within her, relishing in the feeling of the tight, wet heat of her cunt. y/n smiled into his mouth, clenching around him when he hit a particular place inside her that made her tilt her head back into his hand and moan his name into his shoulder. he smiled into her hair before groaning when she began to thrust her hips back up into his, meeting his thrusts beat for beat. y/n reached down between their bodies and began to circle her clit harshly, crying out in pleasure and coming hard when he thrust particularly deep, gushing around him and spurring him into his own orgasm. he groaned her name into her shoulder, spilling deep inside her and resting his head on her chest. y/n chuckled softly, running her hands through his silver hair. he pressed a chaste kiss to her breast as he came down from his high, before looking back up at her. “thank you,” he said quietly.

y/n laughed again. “what on earth for?”

“everything. saving me. this. thank you.”

she hummed softly in response. “are you sure you’re not too bothered about owing your life to a witch?” she teased gently.

“somehow i think i’ll manage.” he rolled off of her and slid up on the bed, pulling her into his chest. “what happened with vhagar’s body?” he asked after a moment.

“nothing. it’s about three miles away from here. she was a bit too big for me to bury by myself.”

“ah.” he ran his fingers over her shoulder and hesitated. “could we go and see her? i never really got to say goodbye.”

“mm. i’ll take you tomorrow.”

#hotd x reader #house of the dragon x reader #game of thrones x reader #aemond x reader #aemond x y/n #hotd #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen x reader

299 notes · View notes

eerna · 3 months

Note

hello! i picked up tlt thanks to you (tlt and tlc are my favourite books haha) and i'm hoping to get into tfota! but before i pick it up, what would you say are the series' strong suits?

Hiii, I'm very glad you enjoyed TLT~~ I always have to preface recommending TFOTA with a disclaimer. I love these books and reread them all the time. They consistently cure my art blocks in miraculous ways. But they are decidedly Not Super Good objectively, and you WILL have to stomach some glaring mistakes.

Okay now that we got that out of the way here are its strong suits in my humble opinion. 1) Holly Black loves faeries and this world she has created for them so so so much. It is crazy. Her faeries are the proper, scary, weird, ugly, beautiful faeries. All the clothes, food, architecture, and inhuman attributes are described in detail and it's very clear it isn't just Stock Fantasy Number 10, and she does it over and over again bc she clearly enjoys it immensely. The palace is a big hill without windows with dirt floors and roots crawling all over, illuminated by glowing mushrooms and decorated with extremely ornamental floral furniture!!! How cool is that!!! Of course my artist brain goes brr whenever it is faced with these books!!!! 2) The characters are all DELIGHTFULLY horrible, we're talking "every adult character is an asshole except for maybe one person but you still can't help but love them". They are all soooo traumatized and tortured and operate on a reality that is completely unrealistic, but so much fun to follow their development. You find yourself relating to such outlandish situations. 3) THE RELATIONSHIPS!!! MAN!!!!! I am such a sucker for the core family relationship in these books it isn't even funny, but the romance is also super good. None of them are healthy, mind you, but that's the charm of them. "How much can Jude forgive in the name of love?" is the core theme of the series. And at first it is super fun to see everyone girlbossing all over each other, but by the end of the series you desperately WANT them to become happy because you somehow started caring about these assholes and it delivers on that front too without being too happily-ever-after. 4) The twists are TWISTING. Even in my TFOTA hater era I begrudgingly admired how well the plot twists land most of the time. The drama is excellent, characters keep blindsiding each other and betraying each other and it somehow makes sense. This series is the only time I've ever seen a plot twist where I was like "This is probably a fakeout, but it makes sense as both a fakeout AND if you play it straight and I love both options". 5) None of it is stock footage. It's so clearly not the author writing what is popular or what she has seen in other books. She has a tendency to copy, but she is copying herself because she obviously loves writing about certain things over and over again, and that is understandable since I also enjoy reading about them.

As you can see, I have a Lot of positives to gush over. If you decide to read them, I hope you have fun~

#eernask #eernanon #eernask talk tfota

19 notes · View notes

thelampisaflashlight · 1 year

Text

Cowbell and Special's Variety Hour

[They're best friends, they're mortal enemies, they could be something more if they weren't such nerds. Cowbell and Special go on a tiny adventure.] Below the cut.

"This is stupid..." Cowbell says in a monotone, leveling an emotionless stare at Special, who pouts dramatically, "...And I am stupid for agreeing to join you."

"You're just being cranky because you know we're gonna have a lot of fun and you're jealous you didn't think of it first." Special replies, placing his hands on his hips, "I thought your macabre little tushy would be down for some good old fashioned ghost hunting, you already talk to dead things all the time!"

Cowbell tilts his head, his neck giving a sharp click, "Dead plants and dead people are different... mushrooms though. Mushrooms talk. They scream. Often."

Special smiles with his teeth to mask the sudden shiver he feels up his spine.

"Mushrooms aside, I think it would be fun!" he laughs nervously as Cowbell continues popping his stiff joints, his blank gaze never leaving Special's face, "...Bells?"

"Yes, Phillip?" Cowbell asks, bending fully backwards to crack his spine.

"...You're scarin' me, bud."

"It is unintentional."

"I see... Anyway, ghost hunting!" Special claps his hands together, "I was going to invite more people, but as it would turn out, you're the only friend I have that was even remotely interested in coming along!"

"That is because I am the only friend you have." Cowbell intones, straightening his back with a snap, "Others do not appreciate your noises."

"...Harsh."

"Is it? I see..." Cowbell nods, "I enjoy your sounds, is what I meant to imply."

"Awww, buddy, that's so sweet, weird way of putting it, but sweet!" Special chirps, "You know, I knew there was a reason I liked you! You're such a good pal, who's always keeping me humble-"

"I often enjoy when they stop, too."

"You're so mean!"

Cowbell gives a stilted laugh.

Special sighs bodily, wraps an arm around Cowbell's shoulders, and starts walking, "Bells, bestie, never change."

"...?"

The chapel on the far side of the abbey's grounds has been abandoned for nearly two decades now, having been badly damaged in a fire when some less than friendly evangelists learned who it belonged to, and, well...

"At least no one died." Special comments, making his way through the now overgrown building, brushing his hand over a moss covered pew, "Primo never was the same after that happened though..."

Cowbell hums and traces his fingers over the smooth bark of a tree growing out of the floor.

"This place is more sad than haunted." Special says, "But I'm certain there's ghosts here! There's always creepy shit goin' on."

"Hm... stone tape."

Special blinks.

"What?"

Cowbell crouches down, feeling the rotten wood tiles, crumbling a bit between his fingertips, "Residual haunting, maybe."

"Ohhhh... is that what that is?"

"Do you know me to be a liar?" Cowbell asks, tilting his head backwards to stare at him.

"I'm not saying that-" Special watches Cowbell bring his arms back and walk across the floor on all fours, upside-down, "-Why are you like this?"

"I find happiness in your perpetual torment." Cowbell responds, ambling up the wall like a demonic spider, "...And I am told I have poor impulse control as a result of what the humans call ADHD."

"Oh, same." Special says, following Cowbell's ascent, "Still, I don't know how that applies to the cryptid vibes you're givin' me, bro."

"...Phillip."

"Yes, Bells?"

"We are demons."

"Oh. Oh right, shit."

Cowbell drops down.

"You must do more weird shit." he says, dusting himself off, "It is good for you."

"Right, right, I'll keep that in mind." Special sniffs, "Uhh, so, whatcha think? Any ghosties around?"

Cowbell looks around the chapel, then shakes his head.

"Aw... Man, this was kind of a wash, huh?"

"Not entirely." Cowbell says, gesturing towards what's left of the chapel's stained glass windows, at the sunset filtering in through the glass, "We got to see something of your namesake."

"I don't know what's so 'lover of horses' about this situation, but okay...?"

Cowbell swats the back of his head.

"It's special."

"Oh, oh, awww, you're being cute again~" Special coos.

"You are ruining the moment with your noises."

"...You like my noises."

"...Unfortunately."

For a moment, they just stand there, enjoying the sunset, but right when Special is about to suggest they leave, Cowbell turns to him.

"Special."

And, fuck, his heart skips a beat, the setting, the soft expression that flits across his friend's face for a fraction of a second.

"Y-Yeah?"

"...You have bird shit on your shoulder."

"Goddammit."

#Lamp writes #shitghosting #nameless ghouls #special ghoul #cowbell ghoul #ghost band #ghost bc #the band ghost #ghost band fanfic #Cowbell being a morbid little guy is based purely on... nothing #I just decided him being weirder than Special would be funny #tfw you're the weird guy at work but your bestie is even stranger

95 notes · View notes

penofpenguin · 2 years

Note

Hello. I am in mourning and I am humbly requesting comfort/fluff from the twins and Lilia. I’m not sure how to really do this since I’ve never requested anyone like at all so uh…surprise me. Feel free to delete this because I know this is absolute trash lmaooooo I am so tired help

Hello dear anon. I'm terribly sorry for your loss. I really hope this makes you feel better. Please take rest and care. And I'm honoured to be the writer of your first request. I hope you like this one and please take care.

Content Warnings: Floyd being cheesy, none.

Comforting their sad s/o

Jade x GN!Reader, Floyd x GN!Reader, Lilia x GN!Reader

He reads expressions really well.

He can tell when you're sad and when you're not no matter how well you hide it.

Finds a time where you're alone and goes up to you.

"My dearest, is something bothering you?" He holds your hand while saying so.

"No!! I'm fine!" You immediately rip away from his touch.

"You're quite the liar aren't you."

A moment of silence passed by. Jade sat down and held both your hands.

"What's wrong. I ask you again."

When he's verbally cornering you like this, you just break.

He gets up, looks around and hugs you.

He means it. He hugs you for real.

While you're ranting about your problems between sobs on his chest/shoulder he keeps patting your head and giving kisses to your crown.

He's happy you're letting it all out. You'll surely feel better.

Jade bends down to give you a kiss on your nose as he wipes away your tears.

"Y/N-san. Please breathe a bit. Alright that's good."

If you feel tired, he'll offer to walk you to your room.

If you're not that tired and just need someone to talk to, he'll invite you to his Mostro Lounge shift.

Either way he's not resting until your satisfied <3

Next day you'll find a wild flower on your doorstep with a heart and a mushroom on it.

Like his brother, he can also detect your feelings.

He hugs you from behind.

"Shrimpyyy!!"

You seem a bit dull. You're sad. Now he's sad too. And Floyd doesn't like being sad >:(

"Why the long face?"

"What do you mean? I'm not sulking."

"Yes you are! Here's how I can tell! Watch."

He lifts you and kisses your wet cheek.

"Your cheek is wet. Which means you cried! What's wrong shrimpy!!? Did someone hurt you??"

"W-well..."

You cling onto him and start sobbing.

He's confused but he squeezes you back.

Now...when you start slowly talking about your problems, he gets bored ngl. He isn't the best at serious comfort and he definitely doesn't listen.

But all he wants is for his shrimpy to smile with him. He doesn't care about anything. As long as you're smiling, he's happy.

Pulls jokes and tries to make you laugh when you've calmed down.

Once you've cracked the smallest smile he feels like he's won a gold medal. He smashes onto your lips.

You laugh a bit at his antics. He feels so accomplished though.

"Much better."

Also he's cuddling with you tonight he's in your room before you get there-

Definitely the most understanding of the three. He's old so he has experience taking care of sad people.

When Silver or Malleus weren't feeling the best, Lilia would jump in to make them happy again.

He checks on you on the doorstep of your dorm.

He heard you cry a mile away while he was passing by.

"Darling are you alright?" He asks, inviting himself into your dorm.

"Yeah! Why'd you assume I'm not?"

This man is super powerful...obviously he'll see through the mask.

"Well, I heard you cry so..." He holds your waist.

"Tell me."

As soon as you feel the watery eyes, Lilia leads you to the nearest sofa and lets you bawl your eyes out on his lap.

"There there my love. Its alright."

He listens and even gives advice. Offers to cook something but you beg him not to.

You were soon asleep on your boyfriend's lap, probably because of the soothing feeling of fingers running through your hair.

Sebek busted in at that time holding Grim.

"HUMAN YOUR CAT JUST-" He shut up once he saw you asleep and Lilia shushing him.

The next day you felt much more relaxed. He even left you a note with a rose.

Hope you enjoyed!!

Once again dear anon, please take care and make sure to stay hydrated 💖💖💖

-Madeline🐧

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #jade leech #jade leech x reader #jade x reader #jade x y/n #floyd leech #floyd leech x reader #floyd x reader #floyd x y/n #lilia vanrouge #lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia x reader #lilia x y/n #comfort #twst fluff #fluff

345 notes · View notes

enigmasalad · 2 months

Text

I have officially peaked, this weekend was the best, and now I don’t know how it could get any better lol.

I met Rob Paulsen at a con this past weekend and it was the most amazing experience ever. This was also my first con ever so like, this was the best! I’ve admired him since I was nine and my mom told me what Animaniacs was and I just watched animaniacs episodes on YouTube for days on end. He was the first voice actor I really ever payed attention to and I loved seeing how he worked characters from a young age.

It’s because of him that I broadened my horizons and appreciate voice acting as a professional art, and I had so much comfort from those characters.

So yeah. I met him. He was around an hour late poor guy. He then shook everyone in line’s hand one by one and some people got two handshakes. When he came up to me he just said “HELLOO NURSE!” And I kinda fangirled a little. Mind you Yakko is my favorite character he’s ever done and I had no indication that I liked Yakko like no pins, no clothes, no merch, nothin. Just a girl with normal clothes and a mushroom hat her mom made. And he said the line as he shook my hand.

I got to get a photo and an autograph from him and it was amazing. I got to thank him and he was so humble and so nice and so amazing and I just am glad this man exists.

So yeah. I think I understand how the “I met weird Al” guy feels now.

#enigmasalad #enigma speaks #rob paulsen #animaniacs #yakko warner #pinky and the brain #pinky #carl wheezer #donnie tmnt #tmnt 2012

9 notes · View notes

shytastemakerthing · 6 months

Note

Hi there, can I get a Twisted Wonderland matchup for my OC (in a romantic sense)?

Name: Adriana “Addie/Ria” Jasmine Strano-García Pronouns: She/her Sexuality: Bisexual Appearance: Long and thick curly hair. Dark umber hair colour. Light brown skin (like the Scarabia Dou). Brown eyes. Hourglass figure. 5'2. Personality: She is a sassy, witty and bold former popular mean girl, who became humbled after her ex cheated on her with another girl, but still has a lot to learn in order to become a better and more balanced person. She’s also quite ambitious, analytical and a quick thinking. On the flipside, she’s secretive, cut throat, manipulative, super guarded, even to the point of hiding shit from loved ones, in her own head too much, over thinks things and has some huge himedere tendencies due to coming from a wealthy family. Hobbies: Drawing, painting, improv, photography, playing video games, streaming series, snowboarding, running and hiking What she wants in a partner: I think she ultimately wants a partner who is loyal, understanding and truly cares about her, especailly after being cheated on. She also responds to acts of service and words of affirmation the best.

Extra Facts:

Aspects of her personality are heavily inspired by the animated versions of Alice, Tiana and Princess Jasmine.

She is also inspired by Sokka (ATLA), Poppy (Wild Child) and Naofumi (ROTSH).

She’s an INTP-T and 8w7.

If she identified as male and was a mage, she would’ve been sorted into Pomefiore or Octanivelle.

Hello and thank you so much for your request! I do hope that you like it and I am so sorry for the wait!

Tw: None

I match you with..........

Jade Leech

Listen, he knows what it means to always be guarded. It is something that he clearly excels at in his day to day life, both while at home in the Coral Sea and while at NRC as the Vice Housewarden of Octavinelle Dorm. If there is anyone who understands the feeling, it's him. But that also means he knows exactly when you do start putting your guard up.

Is there a chance that you would like to join him for a hike in the mountains? The moment that he hears that you enjoy hiking, he is silently at your side (honestly, how does he do that?), and then asking if you would perhaps like to join him in the Mountain Lover's Club? He is leaving for a hike this weekend and he would love it if you would join him. He is often alone on these hikes and he would love to have a chance to share the experience with another who shares the same love for nature that he has.

Honestly, I could see him getting into photography as well. While there are some of his mushrooms that he is able to cultivate just fine, but there are others that he finds out in nature that he can't exactly just take. Whether it be because there are little of them or it's in a protected area, he will gladly take many pictures of them. He would love to see what pictures you have taken as well. Consider it a date. Come over to the lounge and he shall prepare some tea and you both can share the pictures that you have taken.

Now, as you are with Jade, you're going to see a lot of Floyd and Azul. Mostly Floyd. They're a package deal most of the time. While Floyd won't terrorize you as much as he does to other people, it's in his nature to at least poke the bear at times. It's simply one of the ways that he shows his affection and that he cares. You're with his brother, so that makes you family as well.

Jade may be a cunning man of little white lies and half-truths, but he knows when to and when not to have that persona of him, especially around you. He is someone who is understanding of what you went through in your past and how that has affected you, so he makes the truth very evident in how he is with you. You could not ask for someone more loyal than he.

Back to the photography topic, if there ever comes a time where you ask if you can take pictures of him in his true form, while he may be a bit teasing about it, he will agree. Where would you like to go? What would you like for him to do? He quite enjoys that you also love this side of him, the real him.

Overall, Jade is a loyal and devoted partner. He will make sure that you are taken care of and that you have all that you need whenever you need it. He loves that he can just be normal (well, his version of normal) while he is with you, and there is no place that he would rather be than being with you.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst #matchups #twst imagines #disney twisted wonderland #romantic #azul ashengrotto #floyd leech #jade leech #twst jade leech #jade leech x reader #twst jade leech x reader #shy answers #shy writes

9 notes · View notes

gloria-in-excelsis-infimus · 4 months

Text

(Previous)

@candbrp

Shamura looks around the sudden change in scenery with fascination, they really couldn't tell where this was magic or the strange technology that the watchdogs had, maybe even a mix of both. They look out in eager fascination at the garden but their attention is quickly caught by Gloria addressing them. Shamura nods dutifully and got to work spreading the towels, being careful and neat in their arrangement, making sure they covered the surface completely.

@bishop-percival

Upon entering the foyer, a small wave of calmness washed over Miriam. While she never liked to go out of her way to ask if she could visit, Miriam loved any chance she could get to be invited into Gloria’s cushy planet and house. To Miriam, she somehow felt more at home during these sparse visits than she ever did during eight years of living in the Glornch. She followed the group into the spare bedroom. She nodded at Gloria’s instruction and waited until the bed was covered with towels before placing Lola down. The priestess leaned close to her face and whispered the same string of strange before flicking her forehead. “Oww…” Lola groggily muttered as she stirred awake. “Uurhg… Where am I? What is this beautiful room? Ah man, did they send me to The Heavens instead of The Hells? Was I not evil enough?"

Once they had spread out the towels Gloria gave Shamura an affectionate pat on the head. "What a helpful youngster," she said as she pulled a palm-sized bundle out of her pocket and placed it in their hands.

"Here, take this as a reward." Then she paused to rest her hand on her cheek and sigh. "...And your much needed snack. It's a shame this commotion delayed your dinner."

While Revenard Miriam woke Lola up Gloria double checked that the door was shut and curtains were closed. Surely this Glornist would be especially whiny if she found out that she had a mansion large enough to comfortably fit all of them.

If Lola found out, so would everyone else. Annnnd that would jeopardize her ability to leave whenever the Glornists became too troublesome to deal with.

When Lola woke up Gloria giggle. "How sweet of you! But no, this is but my humble bedroom." She let out a lightheaded scoff. "As if Revenard Miriam would carry you to The Heavens."

Then she sat down in the chair next to bed and offered Lola an orange cookie from the platter on the bedside table. It was pumpkin shaped with a piece of chocolate serving as a steam, with a big friendly smile stretched across it.

"How are you feeling, dearie?" Gloria leaned in to rest her hand on Lola's forehead. "That mushroom was forbidden for a reason."

As she gave Lola the friendly grandmother routine she used her feet to pull a garden bucket out from under the bed and nudged it to Miriam.

#bishoppercival #Revenard Miriam #Deacon Lola #candbrp #Shamura #Bishop Shamura #long post

5 notes · View notes

circusgoth-dotcom · 1 year

Text

Dinner At The Ex's

Ship: Keaton Baudelaire x Norman Osborn (Divorcees AU)

Word Count: 1431

Summary: Norman invites Keaton and his current boyfriend, Roger, over to his penthouse for dinner, so that Keaton may meet Harry, Norman's son from another marriage, and that Norman himself may meet Roger. Cws for divorce mentions, food mentions, alcohol mentions, suggestive comments, relationship insecurity, and arguments.

Tag List: @canongf @futurewife

Keaton fidgeted with his blazer as he checked out his reflection for the last time before leaving the apartment he shared with his boyfriend, Roger. His old flame, Norman Osborn, had invited them to dinner in an effort to rebuild old connections, stronger than ever, and to create new ones. Keaton had thought he’d just get a reservation somewhere, but instead Norman had insisted on dining at his place. The same, vast penthouse Keaton used to call home.

“You almost done in there, babe?” Roger called through the bathroom door.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, yeah…” Keaton sighed, teased the front of his hair with his fingers and turned to leave with his boyfriend.

“You never told me you were once married to a billionaire,” Roger mentioned in the back of the cab.

“I told you I had been married, didn’t I?”

“But… to a billionaire. To the guy who started and still currently owns Oscorp.”

“What’s it matter?” Keaton shrugged, looking out the window at the passing buildings. “My business is mine and it’s never come up. I didn’t have to tell you I’d been married at all if I didn’t want to.”

“Are you happy with me?”

Keaton looked back at his boyfriend, taking his hand. He was what one might describe a stereotypical radio host looking like, a heavyset man with thinning hair and a dark beard, just on the cusp of turning grey.

“Of course I am, Rog. You’re funny and smart, we’ve got careers we enjoy… how could I not be happy?” But have I ever said ‘I love you’ to you? While the words quelled Roger’s prodding, they only made Keaton more restless. What was happening to him now that he had finally spoken to Norman again?

When they stepped out of the elevator and onto Norman’s floor, he was waiting for them.

“Welcome to my humble abode!” He called in a friendly manner, offering his hand as they approached. “You must be Roger.”

Roger shook his hand. “Mr. Osborn.”

“Oh please, call me Norman. We’re all equals under my roof, come in, come in.”

They entered and it was as if Keaton had never left. Everything was nearly the same as he remembered it, though as they passed shelves that once held photos of himself and Norman, they had been replaced with photos of a young boy who, even though in some photos he couldn’t have been older than ten, already looked strikingly like Norman. Alongside these new photos were awards, some labelled with Oscorp, others labelled Norman Osborn, and the smallest and scarcest ones being labelled Harry Osborn.

“Harry, our guests are here!” Norman called as he ushered Keaton and Roger into the dining room. They were shortly joined by the young man from the photos, looking to be college-aged in the present day. “Harry, this is Keaton Baudelaire and Roger…?”

“Almond. Roger Almond.”

Harry nodded, shaking their hands. “How do you do?”

“Keaton, Roger, this is my son, Harry.”

“Nice to meet you,” Keaton couldn’t help but consider that, if his marriage had lasted, Harry might’ve been his son.

"Well, shall we settle in?" Norman smiled as he looked at Keaton and Harry, temporarily disregarding Roger's presence. How nice they'd all look as a whole family… Keaton, Harry, and Roger took their seats at the dinner table while Norman went to retrieve the dinner he had prepared to be ready just for this moment. Salisbury steak, sauteed mushrooms, steak-cut fries, cloverleaf rolls, Pinotage to drink (for everyone except Keaton, whom he gave a can of Mello Yello), and brownies for dessert. A meal sure to please Keaton’s “narrow” palette. Norman never minded making not-so-fancy meals for him, even if they weren’t seeing each other.

“Oh, Norman,” Keaton’s tone was one of pure delight at the sight of the spread. His eyes glimmered as he looked at him. “Thank you.”

“Of course. When have I ever ignored the words, ‘you know what I like?’”

As they made eye contact, Keaton’s heart skipped a beat and he suddenly felt very flushed, grinning behind his hand.

“No use just staring at it, let’s dig in,” Roger announced, unable to ignore the way Keaton reacted to Norman’s words.

“Yes, let’s,” Keaton agreed, quickly cutting into his steak.

“So my father’s been rather vague about how he knows you,” Harry prompted once everyone had begun to eat. The heat in Keaton’s cheeks spread to his ears and down the back of his neck.

“Mm. Doesn’t surprise me. I’m Norman’s ex-husband.”

“Besides your mother, Keaton is the only other person I’ve had a solid, lasted-longer-than-a-year, relationship with. We reconnected at an event and I wanted you two to meet… after all, we never tried just being friends after the divorce. Why not give it a shot?”

“What happened between you two?” Roger asked. “If I was married to a successful business man, I wouldn’t let him go so easily.”

“Wrong place, wrong time, one might say.” Keaton took a swig of his soda. “And he didn’t have near the amount of success he’s known for today, after all, he was only starting out when we married.”

“How did you meet?” Harry asked.

A softness took Norman’s striking features. “I remember… I believe I had been invited to the wedding of a now long lost friend, and I wanted to buy a new suit for the occasion. Keaton was working part time at the place I bought it from, what was it called…?”

“Suit Champion,” Keaton answered immediately. “I only remember because I thought it was a stupid name. Not the worst place I’ve worked in, though.”

“That’s right, Suit Champion. Anyway, he helped me pick something out and even adjusted it for me so that it fit properly. I got so many compliments on that suit that as soon as I had come back from the wedding, I tracked Keaton back down and asked him to coffee as thanks for his service. After we got to know each other, it didn’t take long for me to woo him…”

“Woo me?? As I recall it, I woo’d you.”

“Yes, well, I initiated our first official date as a couple.”

“I kissed you first.”

“I proposed.”

“It was my bedroom we first-”

“Lalalala, I am no longer listening!” Harry spoke loudly, covering his ears and startling Norman and Keaton out of their heated yet light-hearted debate. Norman cleared his throat.

“Right, I-I’m sorry, where was I… ah, yes. To make a long story short, that’s how we met.”

“Interesting,” Roger’s expression was one of stone. “Where’s your restroom?”

“Oh, Keaton can show you.”

Keaton nodded, shovelling the last of his steak into his mouth and standing. “C’mon, Rog.”

“What the Hell, Keaton?” Roger spoke harshly the second they stepped out of the dining room.

“What???” Keaton responded, takenaback.

“Don’t ‘what’ me, we both saw what happened between you and Norman when the two of you started talking to each other!”

Keaton folded his arms. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Is it not normal for people who’ve known each other for years to talk like that? Listen, if you can’t handle seeing me be friendly toward Norman, maybe you should just go home.”

Roger gave him an incredulous look. “Maybe I will.”

“Norman’ll feel bad that you didn’t finish dinner with us--”

“Who gives a shit what Norman thinks?” With that, Roger stormed out of the penthouse, slamming the door behind him and prompting Norman to rush into the entryway.

“What happened, where’s Roger??”

“He’s just being an insecure dumbass, that’s all. Let’s finish dinner.”

Norman frowned but led Keaton back into the dining room. The meal was finished amongst much quieter and more stunted conversation, ending with Norman handing Keaton a tupperware container of the remaining brownies.

“Thank you for all of this, Norman, it was nice. A little odd to be back here after all this time, but dinner was superb.”

“You’re not upset about Roger leaving?”

Keaton shrugged. “He’ll apologize. I didn’t exactly expect for this to go on without a few bumps, after all.” He then turned to Harry. “And it was nice meeting you, too.”

“Yeah…” Harry shook his hand again, more truthfully feeling a bit weird after meeting his father’s ex. When he left the room, Norman and Keaton were left in that same position as the last time they had spoken. Feet apart, staring at each other. So close, and yet galaxies afar.

“Goodnight, Norman.”

“Goodnight, Keaton. I’ll see you again?”

Keaton considered this. “If I can help it.” He smiled. Norman smiled back.

#self shipping #self shipping community #self insert #self insert x canon #self insert oc #oc x canon #self x canon #marvel oc #norman osborn #circus scripts #🚫💍.s/i [Norman/Keaton Divorcees AU]#💵Norman Osborn🎃

6 notes · View notes

r0-boat · 11 months

Text

Name: Hajime Haru

Inspiration: fire emblem, Pokemon Conquest

Partner Pokemon: Rowlet

Other perfect links: Dialga( it's complicated) Celebi( friend of a friend)

Type expertise: Grass types, dragon types.

Age: 22-25

Sex: Male

Pronouns: he/him

Height: 6,0

Home region: Ransei, Johto (current)

Likes:

pokemon, drawing/sketching, naping, reading, sweets, vegetables and fruits, cooking, exercise/training, his friends

Dislikes:

mushrooms( he likes to forge but he doesn't like the taste) cold weather, people picking on the defenseless, disrespect, alcohol,

Background:

an orphan taken in by an old Swordsman now a humble mercenary. Willing to do any task big or small, for some coin or to help. His partner Rowlet was just a lonely Pokemon who followed him around for protection, only to admire his strength and maturity. Rowlet will do his best to support him in anything he does.

After following his old friend into a strange dome-like portal he seemed to found himself into another time completely unknown.

personality:

He is a well-mannered young man who likes to make the most of every day, no matter what he's doing. At first glance, he seems laid back but has a strong sense of will with his own code of honor. He can be cunning, punishing those who mistake him for a pushover.

Even in the most dangerous situations, he will always remain calm. He's a firm believer in patience being a virtue, and time is more valuable than any gold

Grass Pokemon love him for his calm,gentle, and nurturing personality.

Dragon types love him for his strong will and responsible personality.

" I am a traveling mercenary or "trainer" as you call in your time; in my lifetime, I have seen and experienced many strange things, all the more reason to enjoy the present, I'd say."

Appearance:

dark blue hair that he keeps in a ponytail or bun when training. With Mint blue eyes. He has a resting smile with a gentle yet resting smile. Has a flat gem like pendant necklace that vaguely resembles a shaved piece of the adamant orb, it Glitters in the sunlight and reflects in the Moonlight. He's had it for as long as he can remember.

In the more present: He likes wearing light and baggier clothes, with Blues, blacks/grey or greens

In the distant past he liked wearing light yet sturdy armor preferring quicker movement then taking attacks head on

Extra:

Rowlet is very affectionate with Haru yet shy towards strangers.

Rowlet seems to be old friend of Celebi, possibly from another time.

Dialga and Celebi are not his Pokemon; Haru respects them as higher beings. They just like him.

Supposed to be from Pokemon Conquest oc, but sometimes I use him as my Fire Emblem oc/ Legends Arceus when I'm bored.

The first time he traveled through space and time, he was understandably freaked out. Now, he's gotten used to it.

He never pressures Rowlet to evolve. Rowlet will grow when he is ready to.

Rowlet is his only pokemon.

Somehow Haru always knows what time it is,

#ro.chatting #ro.oc #Ro.Haru

4 notes · View notes

rosyjuly · 2 years

Note

hi hello. what do we think about prince au!lewis being on kimmel and "accidentally" talking about "my husband" a little OR him playing a game or something and the punishment is to show the last text message sent and when lewis turns his phone around its the message he sent seb before the show and its a photo of him in his outfit and you can also see the photo seb sent back to him and its a photo of him with the doggos on the couch wearing some comfy clothes and the caption is like "we are so excited to see dad! you rock" 🍄 and george/alex is seeing the clip float around in the internet like 🙂 must be nice

mushroom anon!! not gonna lie i rarely watch these daytime or nighttime shows so i'm afraid i won't have much to contribute. however i want to believe that the only time seb refers to lewis as the dogs' dad is when it's early in the morning and they want to go out and seb's half asleep so he's like "they are your kids, you deal with them" and he collapses back into his pillow. lewis is kinda annoyed but, well. he does say that. so he takes the dogs out and makes a cute little insta story about how "dads tooks us outs" which makes the better half of his followers cringe (not me. i for one am too endeared).

i also very much enjoy our confidence in the man (seb) who takes the worst selfies in the world. go girl give us nothing! lewis probably has to enroll him in a skillshare class to teach him how to take a good one. on the other hand i can't for the life of me find the video, but seb and kimi did photograph one another challenge in 2017 with a really cool old camera, and those turned out well, so in my humble opinion seb would make a good insta boyfriend. maybe he runs an anonymous #35mm insta page with glances at their life.

#🍄#rosy.ask #if anyone has that video... i would be forever grateful etc etc #prince au sewis

6 notes · View notes

denimbex1986 · 9 months

Text

'For a lifetime I'd wanted to experience the home of mankind's first atomic blast. Trinity Site opens just two days a year, but I was lost in the remote New Mexico desert. Finally, a distant caravan led to the gates. That only a few dozen of us shuffled inside the barbed wire surprised me. I expected a crowd.

Now, with the film "Oppenheimer," moviegoers are experiencing Trinity Site, huddled together in the dark around a bright screen. Just as the real J. Robert Oppenheimer huddled with his team of scientists, waiting for humanity's brightest flash to bleach the night sky.

What compels millions to witness this onscreen re-creation? Historical curiosity? Sure, we're interested in the enigmatic physicist.

But could it be there's a part of the atomic bomb's father in all of us?

Back inside Trinity's gate, I make my way to the stone obelisk marking Ground Zero. A humbling privilege akin to walking a neighborhood walloped by an F5 tornado. Except instead of obliterated houses across the ground, a secret haunts the desert sand.

That on July 16, 1945, at 5:29 a.m., hell on earth unleashed where I stood. And for an instant, the blast was hotter than our sun. Sand swirled up inside the fireball and rained down as molten radioactive liquid, a new form of glassy green rock dubbed Trinitite.

Warning signs remind visitors that pocketing Trinitite is illegal. Fat chance. Decades ago the government hauled away or bulldozed it all underground. Yet, ants occasionally nudge pieces to the surface.

After a few photographs, I headed toward a table of Geiger counters. In the sand, something green sparkled. Radioactive Trinitite. Dangerous if ingested, but safe enough for a shelf in the garage.

With a clandestine glance I knelt down, feeling a mix of exhilaration and trepidation, picked up the small treasure, and slipped it into the recesses of my suede boot. The remnant carried the delineation of a world transformed. The technological equivalent of Before Christ and A.D.

Oppenheimer is remembered for quoting the sacred Hindu Bhagavad Gita: "Now I am become death, the destroyer of worlds." Forgotten is what he said next: "I suppose we all thought that, one way or another." It took more than one man to create a weapon capable of mankind's annihilation. It took a village called Manhattan Project. Called Los Alamos. And in a way, called America.

During my "Oppenheimer" IMAX matinee, the packed audience watched in popcorn-drop silence. Restrained. Waiting. For what? The film's nude scenes were hyped, but the moviegoers anticipated a bigger tantalizing moment. Much bigger.

The mushroom cloud money shot.

As Nolan's relentless soundtrack score paused, I turned to observe the crowd. Not a twitch. A theater of unblinking eyes. What if the onscreen characters did not activate the button? And, instead, each seat had its own detonator installed? What does it say about us that we would, excitedly or reluctantly, nevertheless push that button?

We came for the blast in all its slow-motion terrifying glory. Maybe our fascination means we recognize the power of the atom to awe. And appreciate the ferocious beauty of an atomic chain reaction, even if the fallout is a lingering sense of shame.

Puzzling that we grasp the nuclear bomb's correlation with artificial intelligence in a very Oppenheimer-ish way but stop short of reining in AI's spread. Tech geniuses tout their latest AI advancement as they warn it might destroy us.

Why can't we stop ourselves from racing inexhaustibly towards cliffs of the scientific unknown, from bombs to virus gain-of-function to AI even as we bemoan the risks?

We plod forward on a planet made radioactive from our own endeavors. Whether or not you harbor a bit of Oppenheimer, if born after 1951, you do harbor radioactive isotopes within your body. From over 2,000 nuclear bombs exploded worldwide. Call it mankind's telltale signature.

Maybe if we listen to our inner Oppenheimer, as the half-lives of our radiation burden decays, each generation's gift to the next will be the absence of any new fallout. Leaving our old atomic radioactivity behind as a dusty relic. Like the Trinitite in a cob-webbed corner of my garage. What might become the artifacts of our future AI regrets remain anyone's guess.'

#Oppenheimer #Trinity #IMAX

0 notes

halfmoonherbal · 10 months

Text

Studies in Oaxaca ..

The first time I visited Oaxaca, Mexico, I didn't know much about traveling in the country, and I spoke less than a little Spanish. The fascination with the region started with a food writer. If you know me, you know one of my first loves alongside medicinal herbs is food; and the culinary world in Oaxaca is next level fantastic.

A little backstory ..

A few years ago, I started experiencing serious depression, and sought help through the US medical system. I dipped my toes in cautiously, but with curiosity and openness. I found the experience to be superficial, and only somewhat useful. I was offered anti-depressants, but I am not a candidate for pharmaceutical therapy because of the contraindications with a congenital heart condition (more on that later).

I decided to work with low dose psychedelics for depression therapy as the ‘alternative’. As a Herbalist, which I define as someone who communes with the plants, I knew what to expect from psychedelics as I had communed with them in the past. I knew the history, the unfolding of psychedelic research and recreational use in the US, and of course, I knew about the war on drugs. But it didn’t quite click with me until I attended a mycology talk in Georgia, when I was reminded of the significance of Oaxaca, Mexico in relation to its history of opening the psilocybin experience to Americans in the United States.

This place called Oaxaca was now coming up for me in multiple areas of my life.

Sometime in November 2022, I arrived in San Mateo Río Hondo, about 15 miles south of the now well known, San José Del Pacifico. There are thousands of online articles published where you can read about the San José area of Oaxaca. In an effort to be a part of it, but also distance myself from psychedelic tourism, I decided to go a little deeper south into the mountains. The pueblo of San Mateo Río Hondo was quiet and sleepy. There were no tourists. There were wildflowers everywhere. Flying insects were buzzing around. Family gatherings happened in small mountain backyards. I slept for 11 hours in a studio tucked away on a hillside, and was greeted by mountain vistas as a backdrop. For three days, this would be my own heaven.

My first morning in this place, I took a slow walk into the center of town. Only a couple storefronts were open, so I visited one of two that were serving hot food from a small kitchen. It was in this home kitchen / restaurant / church that my perception of care was forever changed. It was in this room with the dirt floor, among the songs of this town cook, that I would learn a traditional and simple recipe for preparing hongos mágicos by way of tea.

The woman in the kitchen was anybody’s ethnic grandmother. I had feelings of my own lineage coming up in my nostalgia. Had I been here before? This sweet elderly woman, next to the tortillas she was pressing, next to the chilis and the pot of drinking chocolate, was humbly brewing 2 simple herbs, a powerful fresh mushroom and a most citrus tasting honey.

Here, this woman was making medicine for a village man who was grieving the loss of his wife and youngest daughter. In the gathering space next to her kitchen, a warmly sunlight kissed room with blue walls and drying flowers symbolized a holding place for the grieving. A young man lying on a floor mat was listening to song being sang by another woman in the space. Clearly, the man was weeping.

I did not drink the mushroom tea during this ceremony as it was not prepared for me. But I was given a chance to observe preparation of a tea used in ceremony; something much more profound for a woman who thrives on learning through travel. Before parting ways, my host gave me a limpia smoke clearing by sweeping my body with herbs. She sent me on my way safely.

In less than 24 hours, I had received the gift of why I came to Oaxaca.

It was not my intention to consume psychedelic mushrooms in Oaxaca, but I also left myself open to the moment if it felt right. I have some strong opinions centered on psychedelic tourism and traveling for recreational experiences that involve the use of traditional herbs. Where this involves sacred plants is even more serious for me. While I know use of sacred medicine can be helpful, all of the plantas sagradas suffer some level of abuse or ‘recreational use’. This is disrespectful to the traditions that hold the medicine, and the sacred plants that give.

The time I found to observe a moment of preparation versus consumption felt right. Sharing a morning with the curandera tradition was an initiation. An unasked for gift. A calling that I honored and deeply respected. I now hold this sacred practice of preparing psilocybin tea as medicine to be my most precious possession. It was given to me because I moved softly to receive the knowledge. It is a medicine I have used for myself to treat depression, and have prepared for my clients.

I have been trusted, perhaps by something much bigger. To reduce the (emotional) harm a fellow human may feel is the most gentle, kind and loving practice; I am honored to have been taught how and when to pass the medicine.

On a final note, I have one thought on the explorations of clinical psychedelic therapy in the states..

‘Americans’, please don’t fuck this up.

1 note · View note