#moss reads ap
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Mr. Bateman saw a gay pride and immediately spiraled, had to go home in taxi to calm down, torture a puppy as self soothing, before he could go to work (late because of his gay panic)
#american psycho#moss reads ap#I'M SHOUTING THIS IS HILARIOUS#like#sorry for the violence but he's SO FUCKING MUCH#moss reads#I mean#he's hyper violent but it's such a misdirected coping mechanism that like#BRO#your continuous existence is a fucking joke#like 'I used to think my life was a tragedy but it's a comedy'#that is the book for me#idk#maybe it0s my own mental illness that finds him so incredibly ironic and funny#HE JUST AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA#moss text
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last night i dreamt i held you (stardew valley 1.6 update for console) in my arms.....
#HALEYS WINTER CLOTHES LOOK SO CUTE!!!! MY EWIFE IS HOME MY WIFE#and if you can have up to three pets.... i can have all three of my kitty cats that i have irl!!!!!!!! yippee!!!!!#compensating for them getting their collars off all the time by putting silly hats on them ingame >:))))#oh wait i should probably#stardew valley 1.6 spoilers#therw we go#and as soon as i saw that one of the new festivals was squidfest i was like. LIKE IN SPLATOON????????? NO WAY#i!! cannot!! fucking wait to see all of the new dialogue!+!!!!!!!! aaaaa#ALSO!!! FUCKING BOOK SELLER AND BOOKS???? HELLO???? MY LIBRARIAN DREAMS IN VIDEO GAME???.????#and i like how one of the things in the changelog is just. 'golden animal crackers' like. okay????? swag????#theres alot of concerning things on there (like... baby toss crit-ing?? hello??? mr ape???) but thats just funny#it might just be somtging to increase your animals' or pets hearts toward you but. i kinda hope its just the snack kind you can get in a box#ALSO JUST LIKE. DEHYDRATING FRUIT. SMOKING FISH. MOSS!!!! BROCCOLI AND SQUASH AND CARROTS. FORTNITE LOOT CRATE MYSTERY BOXES???????#mr. ape you have truly outdone yoursf#cherry chortles#only one day till spring break!!!!!#me and my mom are going on a cruise so i wont be arlund for a few days. bro i am going to read and draw so mucb >:))))))))
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The Moss that Grew in Gloom
Chapter 6: A Night Not Spent Alone
Start From Beginning | Next Chapter | Masterlist | Read on AO3
Word Count: 1.3k
Characters: female reader x Zoro
--
Zoro knew how to drink.
You weren’t sure how he had such a high tolerance. You weren’t sure why. And frankly, you didn’t want to know.
But as you stumbled your way up the stairs, two bottles of wine flowing through your system, anytime you tripped, Zoro’s strong arm was there, grabbing you and holding you steady. He had drunk at least twice as much as you, and yet he was still solid and confident.
“I can make it to my room,” you slurred. “You’ll get lost if I don’t lead the way.”
“I’ve caught you 5 times since we started up these stairs,” Zoro laughed back. “There’s no way I’m letting you go the rest of the way alone.”
You caught yourself looking at his face as he spoke, noticing the soft pink that now touched his cheeks. His face seemed more relaxed. He was more happy and carefree. His eyes had a shining to them, full of light and a touch of mischief.
And he was staring right back at you.
Your heart pounded in your chest. Too long. You all had been staring at each other for too long. You should’ve said something, made some kind of snarky joke or comment back to him, but your mind was blank. Every time you reached for a thought, it vanished. There was only his slightly pink cheeks and his enticing gray eyes. You couldn’t look away.
Zoro looked away first, clearing his throat and blinking a few times before he was able to speak. “I was planning on training a bit, so it’s really okay if I get lost.”
“I said I’d help you!” You started walking again, trying to get up to your room. You really shouldn’t have drank so much so quickly.
Zoro chuckled. “I don’t know how much help you-”
“Don’t finish that sentence!” You gasped. “I can help you just fine. Even if I am slightly intoxicated.”
He raised an eyebrow at you. “Slightly?”
Your eyes narrowed. “Shut up. I’m fine.”
“If you say so.” He shrugged, falling into step beside you. “I could use some pointers.”
You blinked, losing your momentum for a moment, but Zoro was right next to you, holding your arm to keep you from falling forward. He chuckled slightly, but didn’t comment on your clumsiness.
But it wasn’t the alcohol that made you stumble. It was his words. He had asked for help so casually. Like you two had been doing this forever. Like he didn’t mind asking for help.
“I’ve never been here with guests without my-Mihawk,” you admitted. You still couldn’t find the courage to confess he was your father.
Zoro chuckled, thinking your mistake was due to the wine. “I don’t think he was here when I arrived.”
You bit your lip. “That was different. I mean he’s never left me alone with…strangers.”
He glanced over at you, surprised. “Do you think we’re strangers? We’ve lived on the same island for a few months. I figured we’d at least…” He trailed off, unsure where to go.
You tried to backtrack on your previous statement. “We’ve lived together for months, sure. But we’ve hardly spoken before two days ago. You were so busy defeating every ape on this island, that we’ve never really…talked.”
“Defeating the baboons is the only way to get off the island, isn’t it?”
You nodded.
“How many more do you have left?” Zoro asked. He was attempting to be casual, but you knew he was curious.
“I already told you. I’ve beat them all.” You smirked, knowing the smugness in your voice was easy for him to hear.
He scoffed. “Then why are you still here?”
You stopped walking, trying to understand his question. “My life is here.”
Zoro stopped effortlessly next to you, his brows knit together in confusion. “But there’s the whole world to see.”
“I’m content here.” with my father, you added silently.
“You’re safe here,” Zoro shot back. “You’re one of the best swordsmen in the world and you’re hiding on this island. Why?”
You shrugged. “I haven’t found anything that’s made me want to leave.” You started walking again. “Not yet.”
Zoro nodded absentmindedly. You thought you could feel his gaze linger on you a few times, but you refused to meet his eyes.
The two of you silently continued to your room, Zoro occasionally holding out an arm to allow you to steady yourself. You took it when offered, but you never held it for too long. Even if you wanted to.
When you got to your room you motioned for Zoro to come in. “You can practice on the mat in the corner. I’ll talk you through it.”
Zoro was clearly skeptical, but he entered the room and sat on the mat as you crawled into bed. You watched him stretch and begin to settle into his typical position, and finally his eyes landed on you.
He really was handsome. You had seen him half-naked before while you were rebandaging his wounds, but you hadn’t thought anything of it. But now…maybe you could blame the wine, or the soft look in his eyes under the candlelight, but you longed for that opportunity again. To feel his muscles contract and rest under your touch once more.
“Now what should we do?” he asked, looking at you with those usually hard slate-gray eyes. They appeared softer tonight. It had to be the wine.
Your head spun, but you managed to let out a breath. “What?”
“To train,” he clarified, finally breaking his gaze from you and clearing his throat. “How can I put my armament haki into my blades?”
You rolled your eyes. He was always trying to get to the end without any regard for the middle. “Concentrating and building your stamina, remember?”
His eyes flicked back and locked onto you, full of mischief. “I have good stamina, remember?”
Something about his tone had your core tightening, and the words were out before you could think twice.
“Prove it.” Your entire body froze when you registered your own words, and even Zoro’s eyes widened for a moment.
He quickly reverted his face back to calm, and arched a brow in question. “How so?”
Your throat felt like it was closing up. You weren’t sure when the temperature had risen in the room, but you wanted to rip away your bedsheets and pull your clothes off.
You wanted to pull Zoro’s clothes off too, if you were being honest with yourself.
But you couldn’t. This was Roronoa Zoro here with you. A man who wanted to best and defeat your own father. You had to diffuse the situation. This flirtatious mood was only because you were both drunk, and you certainly didn’t want to make your circumstance worse tomorrow morning. If things were awkward with Zoro, you’d have to resort to associating with Perona…
You had been gawking at him and his comment for entirely too long.
“30 minutes of armament haki in both of your hands, and then I’ll teach you the next step.” You rolled over so you wouldn’t have to look at him any longer. “Wake me when you're successful.”
The only way you’d get through these next few days without your father around was to be just as cold as him. You couldn’t be involved with Zoro. It was too messy to even think about. Better to be cold and distant.
But when you fell asleep, your dreams were filled with the distinct color of moss-green.
#one piece#one piece imagine#one piece scenario#one piece x reader#one piece x you#zoro x reader#roronoa zoro#zoro#zoro x y/n#zoro x you#cozage#✧˚zoro✧˚
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Hey! I've gotten super into solo rpgs but I tend to find combat boring. Are there fantasy themed rpgs with less focus on combat that you would recommend? (If they are soloable, that's also a win!)
THEME: Fantasy Solo Non-Combat.
Hello friend, thank you very much for your ask! I'm going to direct you to two Solo-themed game recommendations first, before I dive into today's recs.
Character-Focused Solo Games: Games that focus on character-building.
Lighthearted Solo Games: Fun, non-serious solo games.
A Year in the Spirit World, by ToriBee.
The wind rustles through the emerald canopy above as you open your eyes to an unfamiliar world. You're lying on a bed of lush moss, the gentle warmth of the Spirit World sun caressing your face. Around you, a forest of towering ancient trees, each pulsating with an otherworldly glow. It's ethereal, enchanting, and unlike anything you've ever seen.
Drawing from a deck of fate, you'll encounter spirits, creatures, and natural phenomena as enchanting as they are daunting. Each encounter might test your spirit, challenge your harmony with this world, or tempt you to act against your values.
There is some combat in this game, but it certainly doesn’t seem to be the focus. The game is about survival, but you’re as likely to be navigating social situations as you are to be fighting enemies. What I like about this game is the spirit companion who will travel the world with you: there are four different options, each of them cute and enchanting. If you love Studio Ghibli films, you should definitely check out A Year in the Spirit World!
The Goblin Thought, by Kai Medina.
The goblin hoard - a pile of goods and trinkets - is a place of greed, yes. But it's the same greed that thrives throughout this land of men and beetles. It's the allowed selfishness that helps us learn and grow, walk and run, screech and scramble. The hoard is the goblin's memory.
The Goblin Thought is a unique and engaging journaling game that combines chance and narrative to create a compelling story. Players take on the role of a goblin, collecting memories and items in their hoard as they navigate through a world of wonder and danger, allowing for growth and change. With a deck of cards and a six-sided die, each turn presents new challenges and opportunities for creative storytelling, drawing, and reflection.
This game is placed in a fantasy setting, but with a larger purpose. It’s both a journaling game and a thought experiment, a chance to place yourself in the shoes of someone whose history exists within the hoard they have accumulated. Each card you draw from a deck has three prompts attached to it, so you have the potential to play this game (and build a history) for a very long time.
Little Shepherd, Little Spy, by @psychhound.
You try to keep out of the whole war business.
It’s just not really your thing. There are more important things to worry about, like Gethin, your biggest ram, getting stuck in the fence again, or Ffion rubbing against the raspberry bushes and getting her wool all sticky.
Life is pretty simple for a humble shepherd such as yourself.
Little Shepherd, Little Spy is a solo journaling game about being a spy in the fairy war. Choose which side you're on, then draw tarot cards to interpret the messages coming through the information ring. Your tarot card tells you what book to look at and what page. Then you copy down all the relevant information on that page and consult your spy codebook.
I absolutely love fairy games and the premise for this one is super interesting to me. Your character will be interpreting messages that take the form of books that you have on your shelf, and you’ll determine which book to look at (and which page to read) by drawing tarot cards from a deck. If you look into this one I definitely recommend setting aside some time, and perhaps selecting a few books for each category to have on hand, to ease the cycle of play.
The Wandering Library, by AP.
You are the proud owner of a Wandering Library. Whether you bought, built or inherited it, it is your home. Travelling as far and as wide as you desire, your days are spent encountering an assortment of customers, exploring new locations, and tending to your beloved home of books.
This is a a game designed to generate prompts for you to answer in as much or as little detail as you would like. All you need is two six-sided dice and your preferred method of journaling. Using the tables provided, you will explore locations and meet different people, recording your adventures and encounters as you travel in your Wandering Library.
This is a simple one-page game that presents you with a few starting questions, and the supplies a grid of prompts that you’ll roll 2d6 for. Each prompt is a new event, complete with a question, asking how your character reacts. There’s plenty of room for your own imagination. The house is a travelling library, which feels pretty fantastical to me! This game will likely last a few hours or so; it’s not really built for extended play.
Fetch My Blade, by Ethan Yen.
For years you have served your Master faithfully. A loyal companion, you accompanied your Master through the difficult times, and the good times. Now, you are called in a moment of dire need: a Stranger has challenged your Master to a duel, alluding to time before you. Your Master rises to the challenge, calling you forth. This is your moment. You have trained for this. It is time to do your Master proud.
FETCH MY BLADE is a solo journaling roleplaying game where you play as the dog of a retired legendary master of the sword, tasked with a quest of your own: retrieve your master’s fabled weapon in time for their final duel. On your quest, you will uncover and explore your Master’s guarded past-- transforming your character, deepening your relationship with your Master, and ultimately influencing your Master’s fate.
This is a lovely little game of exploring a dog’s relationship to their Master, and developing a backstory as you play. I don’t think there’s specifically a setting in place for this game, but the presence of swords certainly points towards the fantastical. There doesn’t seem to be any specific combat in the game, but violence is considered to have happened in the past, as the game provides a content warning regarding a war that has already happened.
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What I've noticed in the angelkin community is that we are all expected to be these dainty, skinny, porcelain pale, blonde, blue eyed, kind and quiet humanoid things.
So I've compiled a list of angel care for all my fellow angels who do not find themselves in that stereotype.
This is just the first volume with bits coming from my own experience, feel free to submit your own tips for the next volumes!
[Care for Grotesque Angels vol. I]
1. Encourage yourself and other angels to embrace their unique qualities and celebrate their individuality. Remind them that beauty and holiness comes in all forms, and there's no one-size-fits-all definition of what an angel should look like.
2. Go to places where reality feels altered. Those places that make your back and the top of your head tingle. And laugh, scream, run, make weird noises, bask in the sunlight. Just go ape.
3. Say random words in latin and enochian (you never finished Supernatural) to strangers, etch them on walls. When you have that random latin word stuck in your head just write it everywhere obsessively until it goes away.
4. Be divine. Or don't. Spit on the stairs of churches, or go inside ones you've never been before and just sit in the back. Don't get up for the hymns, don't do anything. Just stare at the priest. At the paintings. Look at Gabriel on the wall looking back and think "brother." Look at Jesus, think how uncomfortable that position must be. Think how many times has God betrayed (you ask yourself "who", someone says everyone. You're alone.) Think he should go to therapy and take his meds. Leave chocolate coins and apples in the offering basket. A book about good parenting. Never go to that church again.
5. If you are, be unapologetically, annoyingly, fully and loudly queer. Be a faggot, a transexual, be one in their churches and scream at them how they have no idea about what the truth is (you don't know either, but it's fun.)
6. Be angry at God. Scream at him, bleed for him, ignore him, cry for him, laugh with him, fuck him, make love with him. And then forget he ever existed and hope he left the body of that 20 years old with black box dyed hair and won't find his next home in the heart of your new lover.
6.5. Slam your door like he just told you to go to your room and took your mp3, and you're packing a bag to runaway with chocolate and your birthday money while your mother (mother?) watches fondly from your white door frame with a look that says "He didn't mean to." But she will not say. And you'll never know. You go to sleep angry. Running away is too hard. And there's gravity falls on tv in the morning.
7. Hold Judas's anger, bask in Jesus's kindness. Be a warrior like Michael. A messanger like Gabriel. An anarchist like Lucifer.
8. Use the Bible to your heart's content. Read it, rip it apart, burn it. Use it to draw, keep stable that wobbling table, roll a lavender cigarette for your lover after they "took you to church," as Hozier would say. Make a flame and make smores with your friends, tell stories. You will never see them again. But the memories will replace your blood. Transubstantiation.
9. Kiss a priest, or kill one. Run for pope, burn a church. Disappear into a forest. Become one with the flowers and the moss and the grass and the water and the moon and the sun and the stars and the birds and the maggots and the foxes and the bears. Become the genesis. Become God. And then go out and get pizza.
10. Pray. Or don't.
#actually angelic#angelic#angelkin#fallen angel#fallen angel kin#otherkin#otherkin community#angel aesthetic#actually divine#writerscorner#writer on tumblr#writing#angel wings#writers on tumblr#writer things#writers and poets#trans poets on tumblr#queer poetry#poetry#poetic#queer pride#poets on tumblr#poetscommunity#artist on tumblr#new poets society#poets corner#fallen angelkin#otherkn
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voyager high school au
i feel like we as a species are really missing an important angle on this much-abused trope.
usually high school aus take our current, fully developed characters and de-age them into teenage equivalents (tuvok is captain of the chess team, harry is in all AP classes but is somehow a freshman forever, seven demolishes at quiz bowl and "steals" the class president's prom date at the last minute because she hasn't realized that lesbianism is an option, etc).
however, if you have to send them to high school, i think it would be much funnier if we imagine them as they canonically were as teens.
--
janeway is an admiral's daughter who stormed off after losing a tennis match and dramatically walked home like 5 miles in the rain. you just know that if she got a 98 out of 100 on a project (still solidly an A+!) she would go up after class to argue the two point deduction. she might actually be the class president, but idk if the other kids are happy about it.
chakotay is a sullen, angsty kid who hates his dad, hates his tribe, and just wants to go to junior college and never set foot on the rez again. so many internalized things to unpack. this boy is a mess
Passion Punk™️ tuvok canonically got kicked out of the house for saying that everything his dad believes in fuckin sucks
b'elanna also thinks her culture of origin fuckin sucks. child of ugly divorce, regularly suspended for brawling. she may have gotten sent to klingon religious school to scare her straight at one point? i gotta look that up but i'm pretty sure it happened
like janeway, tom is also an admiral's kid. everyone says he has sooooo much potential but he spends all his time crying in his room and reading jules verne
seven is in a massively abusive cult. this one's not funny at all ☹️
harry is the best adjusted out of everyone. great relationship with his parents, probably has had the same girlfriend since eighth grade (who is also well-adjusted). youth orchestra. early decision to harvard. i typed out "voted most likely to succeed," but that's definitely wrong, because it would be tom out of nepotism or janeway out of grit (and nepotism). if it were a category though, teenage harry would be voted "most likely to just have a nice life."
kes is the smartest kid in her grade but you would never know it because she just hangs out with the hippie kids in the woods behind the school, eating moss off trees and planning to run away from home
all we really know about neelix's pre-war childhood is that he had a huge loving family. i'm extrapolating here from the skills and attitude he has as an adult, but when i transpose this into a modern high school AU, i imagine his parents running the local diner and letting all of neelix's loser friends (see the rest of this list) eat there for free.
the doctor sprang into being as an adult so i'm not sure what to do here. you could argue that he was kind of a canonical teenager in season one, in which case he's that autistic kid who everyone remembers showing up to kindergarten with a briefcase and a full suit, having already memorized A thru G in the world book. somehow you never really see him anywhere except on school grounds. this year's special interest is opera.
vorik is also there.
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The Roots
This is a storybook-style piece involving adam in the form he takes in his eve's main timeline. because of the differing circumstances, he looks and acts different, but he is still a loving being at heart.
lilieve belongs to @crashstanding
Summary: The Mother Tree feels a tugging at her roots. Following it, she meets her counterpart again.
One day, the First and Many felt a tugging against her roots. She had dug them far, far below the earth, and not once had anyone got tangled up in them.
Because why would they? Nothing except the most adapted of creatures can survive down there. Humans were not one of these creatures, and yet they would often stray down there anyway. They would overestimate their adaptability, and wander until the Tree ushered them away.
She did not dig life out of the ground for it to come back in again.
Yet the nature of the tugging was not that of a lost fleshling. It had been around for quite some time. Even the Children were noticing and growing restless. “Something’s crying down there, Mama,” they would say, in their little whispering chirps. “Enough to drown any plant. What will happen to you?”
“You needn’t worry.” She would reply. “I will see who’s causing such a fuss.”
So, she descended, down, down, to the depths she dug through all that time ago. She knew there had been remnants down there, life she could resuscitate. As long as she was around, nothing could remain lost and dead and forgotten without her consent.
She had worked much too hard to allow that.
So, what had possibly remained down there, tugging on the roots so? How had it escaped her notice? She had been very thorough before. She must bring it out to join the rest of creation. It can’t hide forever down here, not after all her work.
What she saw wasn’t anything she ever remembered existing in the Before.
He was a man, that much she could tell, and he was certainly crying. But his proportions were…altered. All his limbs were elongated, stretched to be of equal length like a quadrupedal ape’s. Even his fingers were longer, clawed like a skeleton’s with the flesh thinly wrapped on. His feet no longer retained any semblance of humanity, looking more like a bat’s, handlike with all the grasping capabilities that implied.
His body was gaunt, but the average onlooker wouldn’t realize this at first glance. He was covered in layers and layers of moss and leaves and tiny flowers that clung to him like algae on a sloth. They were wilting and browning ever more steadily it seemed, thirsty for a sun that didn’t exist in this darkness. They even spread to his hair, which itself seemed to droop in scraggly black and white strands that covered his face like a drooping weeping willow.
(Perhaps that was what he reminded her of. A weeping willow…)
But the strangest thing of all was his upper body, or rather…the lack of it. No flesh nor sinew covered it, nor did his ribs house any vulnerable insides. It was just that, ribs.
His body posture was closed, curling up inwards as much as he could when he was clinging to the roots for dear life. Even if his insides were gone, his ribs seemed just as precious.
But on closer inspection, the Tree noticed something that might’ve been the most precious to him. A little bundle was in the crook of one free arm, limp and dangling its pale limbs and wispy black hair but alive. But only barely.
The two locked eyes. The man’s tearstained dark eyes met her bright gaze, and all she could read in it was a brief flash of aggression before it seemed to sink back into a raging pool of fear.
The man’s mouth opened, showing unusually sharp teeth, but the Tree didn’t feel like she was being snarled at. It wasn’t a challenge, but a feeble warning.
(Do not come here, for I have teeth and I know not what they will do)
“Do not be afraid,” the Tree said, as quiet as her matronly voice could allow. “I come not to harm you. I will not harm your little one.”
The man clutched the bundle closer, whimpering a scratchy coo out that sounded like a branch knocking against a window.
“I’m sorry”
“Whatever are you sorry for?”
“I didn’t know these belonged to you”
He nervously loosened a foot’s grip on the roots, before clinging back to it in a panic.
“How long have you been down here?” the Tree asked, ever patient.
“Hiding”
He seemed to shrink into himself, scrunching up and tensing and curling to prove the point. His grip on his child seemed more important than that on the roots.
“A long, long time”
The bundle seemed to shift, letting out a pained groan that seemed barely audible even with the silence. The man let out a strangled, yet quiet cry, angling himself so that his own tears fell upon it.
“My little flower, my boy”
He paused for a second, as if awaiting a response from his little cargo. Upon his silence, the man resumed his weeping.
“He’s sick”
“Why do you cry on him?” asked the Tree.
“Flower, water flower”
More tears dripped upon the little boy, all without a single response.
“Things are supposed to get better when I cry on them, like the plants”
“A child is not like a plant, I’m afraid.”
The Tree thought for a moment.
“May I see him?”
The man suddenly flinched, loosening all his grips on the roots and landing upon the ground. As big and as odd as he was, the action made nary a sound, nor did it jostle the child any. Both arms were holding him now, and the man’s…entire being seemed to grow “thorny.” Suddenly every part of him seemed sharper, more predisposed for hurt like the thorns on a rose.
“no”
“Do not fear. I will not hurt him.”
“but you come from above”
“And what’s so wrong with the above?”
“It’s dangerous”
He pointed down to his ribs. On the lower rungs, a rib was missing on one side. Its counterpart, much darker than the rest, remained.
“No matter how many times I try, I can’t make both sons live”
He cradled the child close once more, nuzzling him and blubbering.
“One lives on, but this one keeps coming back to me”
The not-quite-thorns receded, and all the Tree could see was a creature deeply bent and contorted with pain.
“And now he’s sick, even as he’s still with me”
The Tree’s gaze softened, and she knelt as if beckoning a baby chick.
“I have children too. Myriads like leaves on a tree. Sometimes, the slightest breeze would sweep them off to places unknown. Sometimes those places are terrible, the most terrible. And yet…”
This time, a few tears dripped from her eyes.
“I can only watch and wait for them to come back. But even being their universal constant can be the comfort they need the most. When they come back broken and bruised with their feathers plucked and weeping mud, they know I will clean them up and let them be in a warm nest again.”
She extended her hand, gently, slowly.
“Let me take care of your dear one. Up above, where I live, there’s fresher air than down here. I will tell my children to be gentle with him, and surround him with their feathery down until he’s warm enough to wake. I will grant him fruits from my boughs until his strength returns to him. Not once, never once, will I harm him. If anyone even thinks to, I will have my brood swarm them until nothing remains.”
“you promise?”
“Always.”
There was a pause, a prolonged silence.
“okay”
Inching closer, little by little like a tiny earthworm, the man placed his son into the arms of the Tree. She held the little boy with the utmost care, taking note of every tear in the cloth of his tattered dark coat to sew back together later. Putting a hand on his forehead, it was certainly warmer than anyone would like.
“You needn’t worry.” She said, faintly smiling. “He can rest, and breathe the air above, and he will open his eyes in due time.”
There was a shaky cry from the man, letting out a sigh-like breath as he swept some hair from his son’s face.
“I’m glad, so glad”
There was another pause, not broken by the shaky warbling sounds from the man’s throat.
“can I stay with him”
“Of course.”
“and, and even after”
The man’s arms slowly moved to cradle himself, and the shivering created a rattling of the ribs.
“can you stay with me or, or rather, can I stay with you, up there”
“Of course. As long as you want.”
“I don’t want to be alone anymore”
“You don’t have to be. I promise.”
The man has stayed ever since, even as his little son opened his eyes and played with the Children as much as any other would. The tunnels have stayed, as they always have.
But now, whenever an unwelcome guest enters, someone sees them. They would make every precaution to be quiet, they would lower themselves to as much of a beast of the dark as they could while still being human, and someone would still notice.
From then on, no one with evil intentions was allowed to pass. No one was allowed to go anywhere near his son. No one was allowed to go anywhere near the Children. None were allowed to go near the Tree.
He will protect them. That was his debt of gratitude.
#surrealism#original mythology#dreamcore#weirdcore#idk what your main story is called psi im sorry :sobbing emoji:#original writing#oc writing
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Nyalmo
“Ulvenwald Bear” © Wizards of the Coast, by Jason Engle. Accessed at the artist’s deviantArt here
[Commissioned by @abominationimperatrix. The nyalmo is a type of yeti, which goes to show how far the cryptozoological yeti has moved from its folkloric roots. A twenty foot sapient bear is not an eight foot ape-man, no matter how hard you try. The information here comes from Ghosts, Monsters and Demons of India. Mechanically, this is built around the chassis of a dire bear with the giant template for the ability scores, and I tied them to the similar sapient bipedal bears the urskans through their language.]
Nyalmo
CR 10 N Magical Beast
This creature resembles an enormous bear, except that it seems more comfortable walking on its hind legs. Its arms are long and end in great claws.
The nyalmo are enormous sapient bears that live in the high mountains. They often descend to lower elevations in search of food; although a nyalmo can persist on moss, lichens and insects, they much prefer fresh meat, particularly brains and other fatty tissue. They have little concept of private property, so do not understand that the livestock owned by ranchers belongs to someone else; to a nyalmo, it is merely a convenient depot of food. This raiding may bring nyalmo into conflict with humanoids, a fight that the nyalmo’s great size and strength typically makes an uneven contest. Nyalmo rarely have complicated strategies—tear prey apart with claws and teeth, grab them and break their bones. They flee from enemies that are able to keep their distance, and rarely attack a fortified position.
Nyalmo live in small matriarchal groups, led by the oldest female. Nyalmo have little material culture, but do have culture nonetheless. They are in tune with their surroundings, and read portents in the position of the stars, the movement of birds, and the spilling of entrails. The latter of these portents have supernatural significance, and many nyalmo have had their life saved by some augury they saw in this ritual. During celestial configurations such as the first appearance of a constellation or a solstice, nyalmo gather under the open sky to drum and sing. A few nyalmo have even been known to abduct a humanoid and keep them as something between a pet and a tutor, trying to learn from them the secrets of human language, fire, or ironworking. They care quite a bit for these captives, but will eat their captives if they cross the nyalmo one too many times.
A nyalmo stands between fifteen and twenty feet tall—nyalmo women are taller than the men. They have a garlicky odor, and their dens are typically quite pungent.
Nyalmo CR 10
XP 9,600
N Huge magical beast
Init +4; Senses darkvision 60 ft., low-light vision, Perception +10, scent
Defense
AC 24, touch 8, flat-footed 24 (-2 size, +16 natural)
hp 126 (10d10+70)
Fort +14, Ref +7, Will +8
Resist cold 10
Defensive Abilities haruspicy
Offense
Speed 40 ft.
Melee 2 claws +17 (2d6+9/19-20 plus grab), bite +17 (1d8+9)
Space 15 ft.; Reach 15 ft.
Special Attacks neck breaker
Statistics
Str 29, Dex 11, Con 25, Int 6, Wis 16, Cha 10
Base Atk +10; CMB +21 (+25 grab); CMD 31
Feats Blind-fight, Improved Critical (claw), Improved Initiative, Iron Will, Skill Focus (Survival)
Skills Climb +14, Perception +10, Survival +17; Racial Modifiers +4 Survival
Languages Urskan
SQ pungency, snow walker
Ecology
Environment cold hills and mountains
Organization solitary, pair or clan (3-8)
Treasure incidental
Special Abilities
Haruspicy (Su) A nyalmo can gain insights into the future by spending one minute consulting the entrails of a freshly killed animal. For the next 24 hours after it performs this ritual, it may treat a saving throw as if it rolled a 20. It may use this ability a number of times per day equal to its Wisdom modifier.
Neck Breaker (Su) If a nyalmo succeeds at maintaining a pin, the pinned creature must succeed a DC 24 Fortitude save or take 2d6 points of Dexterity damage. Any damage dealt beyond reducing the creature’s Dexterity to 0 is applied to its Constitution instead. The save DC is Strength based.
Pungency (Ex) A nyalmo can be detected at twice the normal distance by scent.
Snow Walker (Ex) A nyalmo ignores all difficult terrain created by natural snow or icy conditions.
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Athena’s Wings
So, in Medusa’s Child, Athena has wings now! And I think they’re neat, so I’m gonna talk about them!
Athena was born with a pair of sterling owl wings, and throughout her life, she gains more through accomplishments she achieves as a goddess. Before the book starts, she has twenty pairs, each representing something she did (aside from the first ones). She gets a few more throughout the story for various things, but she has twenty at the start. The way she got them are as followed:
Being born
Killing Pallas (this is damaging to her psyche as much as you think it is)
Becoming the patron of Athens
Making the first olive tree
Domesticating horses
Inventing the plow
Inventing the rake
Inventing the bridle
Inventing the yoke
Inventing the chariot
Designing the first ship
Beating Arachne in the weaving contest
Turning Arachne into a spider
Blinding Tiresias
And then 15-20 are just for various goddess shenanigans like fighting in wars and aiding some mortals.
Unfortunately, Athena loathes her wings.
For one, she sees them as a sign of hubris. That she’s flaunting her victories. And that doesn’t really sit right with her, as she feels no need to show off.
For two, they are a teensy tiny itty bitty bit excruciatingly painful.
Her wings are meant to be out and free, but instead, she keeps them hidden inside her back. This causes an extreme strain on her entire body, and she says that she can constantly feel them “writhing” beneath her skin, “yearning for an escape.”
And even when she does have them out, she still isn’t free from discomfort. Due to the amount of wings she has (remember, there’s forty of them), there isn’t much space available for all of them to be out at once. She isn’t a very big goddess, after all, and even if she was, the back only has so much skin. As a result, the wings grow over each other, fighting for room, and her flesh gets ripped to shreds. It’s a pretty (read as: extremely) bloody sight.
Her wings are also embedded with several grey eyeballs (think of biblically accurate angels). In my book, this is we’re she gets the epithet Grey-Eyed Athena (because she herself has grey-blue eyes). She CAN see out of all of these eyes, but she chooses not to, as it gives her a headache.
Her primary wings are thirty feet long, and all the rest span from fifteen to twenty-five feet. They all get smaller when they’re folded on her back and only grow to their full size when extended. This keeps her from falling over backward from the weight of them.
The only wings she doesn’t hate are the little wings she has on her head, which aren’t painful or straining or annoying.
And now, beneath the cut, for your viewing pleasure, the actual scene where her wings first appear! Enjoy!
“I didn’t know you had wings.”
The topic was meant to distract Athena from her distress, but it seemed to do the exact opposite, as Athena visibly grimaced at Medusa’s words. Her wings, sprawled limp at her sides, flinched and drew in closer to her back, as though ashamed of themselves.
“Yes,” Athena said softly. “These are my original pair. The ones I had when I was born.”
“Oh? You have more than one?”
“I have many.”
She sounded so tired when she said that. So spiteful toward her own form.
Medusa dipped the moss into the salt water, then gently dabbed at the burn on the left one. Athena jerked away, a ripple of pain causing the entire wing to shudder. When it did, Medusa swore she caught a glimpse of some strange movement from beneath the plumage.
With curious claws, Medusa began pushing back some of the silver feathers. At this, Athena let out a hissing breath and said, “I would not do that if I were you…”
She made no effort to stop Medusa, however, and, too driven by her intrigue, Medusa continued, brushing through feathers until she saw it.
An eye.
A grey eye.
The eyeball revolved around to stare directly at her, and Medusa found herself pulling away instinctively with a small gasp of fright.
Athena sighed heavily. “My apologies.”
“You have…an eye in your wing,” Medusa said as if Athena didn’t already know this.
“Indeed.” Athena raised both wings, and all her feathers stood on end, revealing the array of bright grey eyes underneath. Medusa’s own wings suddenly felt very itchy.
Athena lowered her wings, and her plumage smoothed out. She looked bitter. “Not very inviting, hm?”
“Can you see out of them?” Medusa asked. “The eyes?”
“Technically, yes,” Athena answered. “But I try not to. It is headache-inducing, seeing so many things at once.” Then, sourly, she added, “I don’t like having them out. They’re nuisances. I would cut them off if they didn’t grow back like the heads of a Hydra.”
“You say that like you know that will happen.”
Athena gave her a look.
“Oh.”
There was a small snort from Athena.
Medusa extended a hand and gently stroked one of the wings. It fluttered under her claws.
“Well, I think they’re beautiful,” she said. And then, before Athena could counter her with some self-loathing comment, she went on, “You said you have more?”
“Many more,” Athena nodded. “I am ‘awarded’ with new wings with every accomplishment I achieve as a goddess. They’re a sort of prize, if you will. But if you ask me, they’re just feathery forms of hubris. I have no reason to flaunt my deeds. And yet, the universe seems to want me to.”
“So that is why they call you Grey-Eyed Athena,” Medusa hummed.
That actually got a laugh out of Athena. “Indeed,” she said. “I used to—” Another light laugh. A finger scratched at one of her head-wings sheepishly. “I used to appear before mortals, when they would summon me, with my wings spread out, many eyes aglow and wide open. All mystical and majestic. It got a real kick out of worshippers.”
“Why’d you stop?”
“It lost its appeal after a while. It stopped making me happy, I suppose. It was all just an act. The strain certainly didn’t help, either.”
“Strain?”
Athena heaved a great sigh, and one of her wings twitched. “Having my wings out at all is a constant struggle. These,” she gestured vaguely, “are alright, as they are my original pair, but the others… They’re painful. Terribly so. The more I have out at once, the more friction they create on my body, and it feels as though my skin is being scraped off, piece by piece. My back is usually torn apart by the time only five pairs have emerged.”
Wincing lightly, Medusa couldn’t help but ask, “How many do you have?”
Athena blinked, slightly dazed, then looked up at the dark sky as though she were trying to remember. After a moment, she answered, “Twenty pairs, I believe.”
Now Medusa grimaced fully. Forty wings. Her own two wings were annoying enough at times, but forty? A sympathetic twinge of pain went through her back.
“Wow,” Medusa breathed out.
Athena gave a humorless, bitter laugh. “Indeed.”
“And you said they hurt you?” Medusa pressed.
Athena’s lips pressed into a tight line. “Yes,” she said. “They do. They are not meant to be concealed in a prison of flesh. They are meant to be out and free. But I don’t care. I loathe these mutations. And so, they wrath against me. Even as we speak now, I can feel them writhing beneath my skin, yearning for an escape. The feathers itch so vehemently against my muscles, pressing mercilessly on my bones. It’s a pain.” She lifted her head to Medusa, and her eyes looked so exhausted. “For me, it’s always like this.”
Medusa frowned. “It must get tiring, all that—”
“It does. It does get tiring,” Athena whispered. “But I don’t have any choice. I never did, and I never will.”
Medusa reached down to squeeze one of Athena’s hands tightly. “I’m so sorry, Athena.”
“Don’t be,” Athena said. “You have nothing to apologize for, trust me on that.”
For some time, the two of them sat in silence, Athena staring at the ground with a hollow expression and Medusa tending to her burn.
And then, “Sometimes I get some bad cramps in my wings.”
Athena laughed. One of her head-wings swept around her face to muffle the sound, but Medusa heard it clearly. It was like a chiming bell in a great, black void.
#this poor girl just can’t catch a break#she’s more tortured than the literal main character of the book lmao#anyway! i love this new idea for her so much#I think it’s fun!#medusa’s child#greek myth#greek mythology#greek gods#greek myth retellings#athena#gods and goddesses#ancient greek mythology#medusa#ancient greek#my writing#book snippets#book lore
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15 questions for 15 mutuals from the lovely @bich-the-moss thank you for the tag, i love these things <3
1. Are you named after anyone?
if you're talking about my legal name, then i'm somehow named after my dad whose name is jason. my legal name is not jason nor any possible variant of jason. idk man
i have to two first chosen names because i wanted my initials to be DK because i love apes :) daniel is just because i liked the name and korvid came to me in a dream in which i was working with gerard way on a comic book adaptation of Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge. we decided demolition man's name should be korvid so i woke up and stole it like a complete dweeb
2. When was the last time you cried?
last groundhog day i saw a really sad edit of punxsutawney phil and lucy dacus' Night Shift. it was about how he's famous but can never go back to the wild and see his friends and it fucking broke me
3. Do you have kids?
no im 19 and not up to the task of child rearing
4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?
no not really
5. What sports do you play/have played?
i was in an after school bowling program because it was easier for my dad to pick us up from the alley on mondays. i was also very good at dodging in dodgeball but incapable of catching
6. What’s the first thing you notice about people?
in person, usually how the carry themselves. like open and outgoing or more reserved. online through text, it's usually which words they use and if they capitalize or use punctuation. i like how everyone has their own sort of texting dialect
7. What’s your eye color?
dark brown, almost black
8. Scary movies or happy endings?
scary movies! i love a bleak ending but won't turn my nose up to a happy one. i like legally blonde just as much as halloween
9. Any special talents?
i hate cooking but im pretty good at it. i'm very self conscious about my writing but everyone ive shown it too, including professors, give me really positive feedback so i suppose i can count that.
i also excel academically despite refusing to study or complete readings. basically, i'm lucky.
10. Where were you born?
tampa, florida 👎🏻
11. What are your hobbies?
writing, guitar, cooking, researching nuclear physics and disasters, complaining
12. Do you have any pets?
yes i have a sweet little yorkie named ozzy, his 5lbs and 5 years old. i have a whole blog about his @ozwithablog
13. How tall are you?
5'1" or 155 cm 😐
14. Favorite subject in school?
depending on the teacher, science or history
15. Dream job?
film writer and director. i mainly want to do horror and tragedies genres but i really want to experiment with different styles and media. i loved mixed media like Who Framed Roger Rabbit and stop motion but the practical effects of live action offer just as much room for creativity
Tag: @paper-dragons @palestrawberryarcade @fishpawws @biohazrd @b-is-for-bones shall be my targets for today >:)
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happy palindromic marijuana day! it's 4:20:24 PM on 4/20/2024. 🌿🌿🌿🌿
according to wikipedia, there are over 2000 terms for weed out there. i compiled a list of all the distinct ones wikipedia lists at time of writing, for funsies
remember that if you're reading a cryptic crossword clue, any of these words could secretly be talking about weed!
10s poof
2 long
25 or twenty-five
30 sack
36 or thirty-six
4 o's
40 sack
420 or four-twenty
50 piece
9 or nine
a draw
acapulco gold
ace
afghani
african
african broccoli
airplane
ak-47
alfalfa
alligator cigarette
ammo
ammy
amnesia
amnesia haze
amsterdam's finest
antiguan rocket
arathi
ashin’ kusher
asparagus
astro turf
aunt mary
baby
bake sale
ball
banga
bar
barney
bc
beenth
benj
benners
bhang
bible worksheets
bifter or bifta
bilge
billy
binbag
bingger
bis
bishop
blaze
blifter
blim
bloop
blue dream
blue goo
blueberry
blueberry diesel
blunt
bob
bob hope
bobatti
bobby brown
bobo
bomber
bone or bag of bones
boner soup
bong
bongo
boo
booboo shit
boof
boogity brown
boone
bottle
bread
brickweed
broccoli
brown buddha
brown frown
bruce banner
bubba kush
bubble kush
bubblegum
bud
budder
buddha
budski
buge
bunk
burger king
c-jizz
cabbage
cactus green
camberwell carrot
cambodian red
cancer weed
cannabidiol or cbd
cannabinol or cbn
cannabis
cannabis edible
cannabis indica
cannabis ruderalis
cannabis sativa
cannabis tea
cannon
caracas
carribean cabbage
catnip
cd's
cess
charas
charlotte's web
cheatham
checkers
cheeba
cheech and chong
cheese
cheg
cherry
chess
chicken
chillum
chiquitty-freddy
chocolate
choof
christmas tree
chronic
chronicles of narnia
climb
clouds
cola
collie
colombian
combustible herbargy
comic books
concentrate
course notes
cousin mary
cow
cripple
critical mass
crop or cro
crunch
curley wurley
cut
cutie pie
d's
da kine
daccha
dagga
dak
dan k. buddinhash
dandelion
daniel nuggetstone
dank
dankinstein
dat sticky icky icky
dave
delta-9
detroit
devil's lettuce
diesel
dime or dime bag
dirt weed
discarded bibles
ditch weed
dives
djamba
dodo
doink
doja
dollar
doobage
doobie
dope
doña juanita
draw
dro
dronabinol
dub or dub sack
dumm
dunce
durban poison
dutchie
dvd's
edible
edwardian morris baskerville
eight ball
eighter
eighth
elbow
electric puha
endo
extract
farmer's daughter
fatty
fatty eight
feral cannabis
feral hemp
fid or fiddy
fifty
fir
fire
flower
forb
forbidden fruit
fossils
fosters
freakus
friendship
frodis
full
funk
funky falafel
g-regs or gregs
gage
gangster gumbo
ganja or ganj
garden gate
gas or gasoline
gauge
george
girl scout cookies
goo
good advice
good giggles
good shit
goofy boots
gorilla glue
grade
grandpa's medicine
grape ape
grapes
grass
green
green badger
green crack
green goddess
green tea
greenery
greenest of the goop
greenest of the green
grefa
griffa
grifo
grizz
guitar hero
guy smiley
gwaai
half
halfer
halfie
half ounce
half quarter
half-o
halfling's leaf
harris
hash
hash oil
hashish
haskell
hawaiian
hay
haze
headies
hemp
henry
herb
herbal jazz cigarette
herbsteins
heyman
hindu kush
holden
holy sacrament
holy weed
houdini
hundy
hungarian hummus
hydro
ice cream
indian hemp
indo or endo
insangu
izm
j
jack herer
jacket
jamaican gold
jay tokenstein
jazz cabbage
jazz cigarette
jean
jibber
jimmy
jive
jobb
jobb the finest there is
joint
juicy fruit
jupiter's beard
kaka
kevin bacon
key
kibs or kibbies
kief
kif
killara
killer green bud or kgb
killer herb or killa
kilo
kind
kind bud
kine bud
krinze
kush
kushempeng
kutch
l pape
la
lamb's bread
leaf or leaves
lef
left-handed cigarette
lemon g
lid
lit
little beasts
live resin
loud
louis
lowes
lula
lye
magic
magic cancer
magic dragon
magical brownie
marihoochie
marijuana
mary
mary jane or mj
mary joanna
matanuska thunderfuck or mtf
maui waui or maui-wowie
mbanje
mecca
method
mex
mexican kilobrick
mexican red
mezz
microwave popcorn
mids
mike vick
morning meds
moss
mota or muta
mother mary
movies
muggle or muggles
mull
nabilone
nabiximols
nay nay famous
newguys
nick
nickel or nickel bag
nixon
nodge
northern lights
nug or nugget or nugs
number
o
o-z or oz
og kush
oil
old toby
onion
onion ozzy
orange bud
oscar
ounce
outdo
pack
pakalolo
panama red
pants
paonia purple
paper
party parsley
phatty
pineapple express
pinner
pipe
pizza
platinum og
plingots
polen
poop
portuguese plant
pot
pound
puff
purple haze
q
qp
quad
quap
quart
quarter
quasimodo
rainy day woman
ramín
recreational drug
reefbuds
reefer or reefa
reggae cigarette
reggie miller
regs
resin
roach
rodeo
romanian ramen
root
salad
sampson
sappad
schwag
schwanal
schweed
schwugs
scooby-doo
scratchy
seed or seeds
sensimilla or sensimillia
sha-bang-a-bang-a
shake
shakira
shamya
shatter
shirt
shit
shizzle
shuzzit
silly spinach
single
sinsemilla or sinse
sister mary
sixteenth or teenth
skunk
slice
smeed
smoke
smookey smoke
snickle-fritz
snoke
snoop
soap bar
sock
solid
sour diesel
space cake
spank
spinach
spliff
square grouper
squirter-farter
stank
stash
stem
stick or sticks
sticky icky or sticky icky icky
stogie
strawberry cough
stuff
submarine
sup herb bowl
super lemon haze
sweet g
sweet galenas
sweet leaf or sweetleaf
tacos
taima
tapes
tea
ten bag
ten bit
tenners
tens
terpene
tetrahydrocannabinol or thc
texas tea
thai stick
thirteen
thrax
tiger fear
tin or tinny
tincture
tochigishiro
toke
tommy chong
tooka
tree or trees
trichome
trizer
tuppence worth
twamp
tweed
twig
twist
viper
wacky tobaccy or baccy
wax
weed
wheat
white rhino
white russian
white widow
widdle
willie nelson
wisdom weed
wizard
x box
yankey-doodle
yarndi or yarndie
zaza or za
zig-zag
zip
zombie
zone
zoot
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AP memes
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Olivia Wilde and Zoe Kravitz lead the trend for naked dressing at Saint Laurent show
Olivia Wilde and Zoe Kravitz led the trend for naked dressing at the Saint Laurent show.
Olivia Wilde and Zoe Kravitz wore daring sheer outfits to sit in the front row at the Saint Laurent Paris Fashion Week show.
Wilde wore a see-through black bodysuit with cut-outs. She paired it with a grey midi skirt, leather gloves, and sunglasses.
Olivia Wilde
Wilde has freed the nipple before. She wore a black lace Dior gown at the People's Choice Awards 2022. The gown had a sheer bodice that was blurred during the telecast.
Meanwhile, The Batman star Zoe Kravitz – a regular face in Saint Laurent's advertising campaigns – wore an almost imperceptibly sheer chocolate brown belted midi dress.
Zoe Kravitz (Vianney Le Caer/AP)
And they weren't the only celebrities freeing the nipple at the Paris Fashion Week show.
Georgia May Jagger and Lila Moss also wore stunning outfits to the event.
She was joined on the front row by supermodel mother Kate Moss, whose outfit was also daring – but in a different way. She wore a double-breasted fur coat with seemingly nothing underneath except sheer tights and high heels. Moss kept the styling simple and chic, with slicked-back hair, kohl-rimmed eyes, a subtle lip, and gold hoop earrings.
The front row was full of supermodel star power, as Linda Evangelista was also in attendance.
Evangelista – who walked the Yves Saint Laurent catwalk as early as the Eighties – was in a more demure outfit, wearing a double-breasted black coat with statement shoulders, a black turtleneck underneath, and opaque tights.
While the sheer trend might seem modern and cutting-edge, it's been around for decades – and the current exhibition at the Yves Saint Laurent Museum in Paris looks at precisely this.
Furthermore, it's worth mentioning that Sheer: The Diaphanous Creations of Yves Saint Laurent is a collection that dates back to the 1960s. During that time, the French designer boldly experimented with see-through chiffon, lace, and tulle materials, creating a unique, daring, and elegant style.
"I've worked for quite some time now with diaphanous fabrics. The important thing is to maintain their mysterious nature…"Saint Laurent said he did his best for women's liberation and created modern clothing for the 21st century."
The designer debuted a sheer chiffon blouse worn with nothing underneath in 1968, and this was given a modern spin in the autumn/winter 2024 collection.
Anthony Vaccarello's latest collection featured see-through materials like sheer skirts, gossamer tops, and hosiery hoods.
It gave the collection a delicate, almost ethereal vibe – with pale beige and grey tones studded with the occasional jewel color, like a deep red or bright blue.
Vaccarello said silk fabrics were challenging to work with backstage. He aimed for fragility and transparency at Saint Laurent.
Models wore lightweight materials but also donned oversized fur jackets and feathered coats.
And there was age diversity in the show, too, with some older models walking the runway. This comes after the brand debuted its spring 2024 campaign in January, starring Diana Ross, 79, and Lauren Hutton, 80.
The naked dressing trend isn't new, but it still causes a stir on the red carpet. Remember Florence Pugh's sheer pink Valentino gown?
Saint Laurent's latest designs are on trend. We're waiting to see which celebrity will wear them first.
By Prudence Wade, PA
Read the full article
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2023 Favorites with Notes
2023 Favorite LPs & EPs
https://www.zoocoup.org/2023/music/lps.html
2023 Favorite Singles
https://www.zoocoup.org/2023/music/singles.html
A few notes:
The A Giant Dog record was simply the one record I not only listened to a lot but also the one that would constantly earworm itself into my brain randomly, so I didn't see how I couldn't place it at the top of the list. I've loved the past few A Giant Dog records, but I still don't know how I like something that has so much theater kid energy.
Esther Rose, Yazmin Lacey, Glyders, This is the Kit, The Tubs, Andrew Gabbard, Stress Positions, Lael Neal, Miss Grit, CHERISE, Chief Adjuah, Bruxa Maria, Cel Ray, Cerbère, Dead Sea Apes, Dream Version, Gueersh, Hairband, La Culpa and Uni Boys were entirely new to me
I've liked several Mitski songs in the past, but this was the first full record I felt compelled to buy
The last three songs of the Bully record are undefeated
PACKS was a band I found on accident a few years ago — their first record was included in a shipping mixup — and I continue to be impressed with them
In my head I argue The Armed is basically Steely Dan for the 21st century
Girl Ray's first record was one of my favorite records of 2017, but I skipped the follow up. Pleasantly surprised to see how much I enjoyed this latest release
I played the three EPs I called out more than some records this year
I wish julie would release a proper record
Happy to see Bosque Brown and Las Nubes return with something new after a few years away
2023 Numbers:
Albums & EPs purchased: 194
Singles purchased: 96
Releases that came close to making one of the lists:
Bees Made Honey in the Vein Tree / Aion
“Bicho Solto“ / Lê Almeida
Blonde Redhead / Sit Down for Dinner
“Bullet” / split system
Cat Power / Cat Power Sings Dylan: The 1966 Royal Albert Hall Concert
Catalogue / MODERN DELUSION
Class Traitor / Broken Energy Highway
“Defect“ / Snooper
El Michels Affair & Black Thought / Glorius Game
“Evil Eye” Shana Cleveland
Gaadge / Somewhere Down Below
“glow worms” / Jonah Yano
Goo / Squid Ink Sky
PJ Harvey / I Inside the Old Year Dying
Kyle Kinane / Shocks and Struts
La Sécurité / Stay Safe!
Leggy / Dramatica
Jenny Lewis / Joy'All
Liela Moss / Internal Working Model
“My Lovely Cat! / Deerhoof
“Nothing in the Middle” / Things That Fly
“Read the Room” / Pearl & The Oysters
“Ruth's Mouth“ / RITUAL / HABIT / CEREMONY
Sky Furrows / Reflect and Oppose
Skyzoo / The Mind of a Saint
Trevor Sloan / Dusk Among the Plum Trees
“So U Kno“ / Overmono
“Springtime” / Vintage Crop
Swans / The Beggar
Sweeping Promises / Good Living Is Coming For You
Tanukichan / GIZMO
Tele Novella / Poet's Tooth
Mo Troper / Troper Sings Brion
WALLOWING / EARTH REAPER
“The Way“ / Nighttime
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stranger to fiction
Taking Creative Writing class was not Danny’s idea. Initially, Sam had pushed for them to take the class together Senior year because it was during a period they both had space for electives. So, on her word Danny signed up for Creative Writing.
Then first week of senior year, Sam switched from Calculus to AP Statistics and he was stuck in Creative Writing alone.
Most of the work was easy assignments. You didn’t have to be an expert writer, and it was definitely a breeze compared to Lancer’s Lit class. Hell, most of his classmates in Creative Writing were Freshmen. All except two other Seniors... Star Evans and Paulina Sanchez.
Danny’s week had been going fine until he was paired with Paulina for peer revisions for their short fiction story. Danny wasn’t too worried about Paulina reading his writing. It was a short horror piece about an astronaut slowly realizing that his copilots were not all human. In the end, though, it’s revealed that the copilots were all human and it was the astronaut who was the alien all along.
May or may not be inspired by events from Danny’s own life, but hey, no one had to know that much.
Danny opened his laptop opposite Paulina’s. She seemed fascinated with her nails, cubicles perfect as always, not bothering to look up at him.
He cleared his throat. “Your school email is your first initial, last name?”
“Hm? Oh, yeah. I’ll share my doc with you too.”
Danny jammed the refresh button until the new document appeared.
His heart dropped into his stomach.
Phantom Love: a Tale of Ghostly Romance
Oh, fuck him.
He couldn’t read this. No, wouldn’t read this.
Not if it was anywhere close to what he assumed it was.
Maybe once upon a time he had feelings for Paulina, back in Freshman year, but he’d long outgrown his crush on the Head Cheerleader. These days, she was more infatuated with him than him with her. Not that she’d know it. Given, all of her affections were to Phantom, not Fenton.
“Is there a problem?” Paulina raised a brow.
“N—no. Uh, I mean, isn’t it supposed to be a fiction story? Isn’t it like, against the rules to write about Phantom?”
“Well, this hasn’t happened so right now it’s fiction.”
Right now.
“I uh, alright.”
Hesitantly, he clicked on the document.
My name is Luciana Cortes, heiress to my mama’s fashion empire. I wouldn’t look it, but I’m not like other girls. Dark curly hair framing my face and pearlescent teal orbs that glow in the reflection of my phone. I’m outgoing at school and put on face to be like all the other girls, but that’s all a facade. The real me is a bashful, yet hopeless romantic. And I have a secret.
I’m in love with the Ghost Boy.
Danny almost snorted. In what world was that a secret?
The next few paragraphs gave some context, describing Phantom’s feats over his ghostly foes and how he fought to protect the people of ‘Harmony Park.’ Though, he could do with less physical description of his ghost form.
Phantom has wind-swept white hair that reminds me of pearls in the sand. His hair always seems to float, like he’s underwater, except he’s not. His skin is tan, tinted green like moss crawling up an old building, giving the impression that even though he’s a ghost, he’s still human all the same. His eyes are a lurid green that shine like emeralds under a lamp, shining no matter the direction you stare at them, seemingly luminescent themselves. His eyes have the depth of a planet, infinite, and I could stay lost in them for the rest of my life. His smile is tantalizing and makes me feel like I can fly too. And his build is thin, yet durable, a strong body that reminds me of the old pine trees by my estate that I’d lean against in winter. If I ran my hands across his chest, I’d imagine that his abs would be—
And that’s as far as Danny got reading before he had to switch tabs on his laptop and pretend he wasn’t blushing into his hand.
The plot of the story then progressed into Paulina—sorry, Luciana—winning Phantom’s affections with her kind heart. After a particularly bad ghost fight, she brought him back to her estate and patched him up. Apparently, Luciana learned how to do stitches watching her mother sew because she’s from a family of fashion designers or something. Then she and Phantom had a heart to heart, then later a mouth to mouth. Thankfully, it stopped at kissing or Danny might have accidentally frozen the inside of his laptop. It had only happened once, and even then Tucker had barely been able to save his computer.
Still, the story wasn’t finished.
“I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” I told Phantom. He looked at me longingly and then frowned, depressed.
His green eyes dripped with disappointment. “I cannot do so, Luciana. I’m a ghost, and you’re a human. Such a thing is dangerous, and I don’t want to hurt you. Especially since...”
“Since?”
“One day you may die,” he told me gravely.
“Well, what if I become like you!” I suggested. “I want to be a ghost!”
Danny blinked, the words still on the screen. No. Paulina wouldn’t write the story in that direction, would she? She couldn’t think that was an option?
Several paragraphs later, Danny shut the laptop with a slam.
Phantom, my love, disapproved. But still, I knew that becoming like him was the only way to preserve, to immortalize our bond. Our love.
As Juliet once did, I brought the knife to my chest. A violent death would make a strong ghost, I’d heard the experts say. I hoped that in the afterlife, the beyond, I would find Phantom again.
The pain only lasted a moment and then I knew nothing.
“Woah, Fenton?” Paulina looked from Danny to his laptop. “You good?”
He couldn’t think straight. That wasn’t—that wasn’t what she thought, right? That death was just some spur-of-the-moment, painless decision? That death was some passive, romantic gesture?
Danny died once. It fucking hurt.
“Do you think death is a joke?”
Paulina froze. She looked like she was deciding if his question was a joke or not.
“Uh, no? Death is bad, duh. Luciana kills herself because it’s a story, though. Nothing deeper than that, Fenton. It’s just fiction.”
“Fiction about a real person. And you romanticize your character killing herself so she can be a ghost with him.”
“Yeah, and? It’s fiction, Fenton. It’s not like I’m going to do that.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Are you?”
“No! I’m not insane! I mean, yeah, it’d be nice to be with Phantom that way, but I’m not going to risk my life. Not until a few dates, of course.”
Before he could speak again, she cut him off. “I’m kidding! Kidding! That was a joke, jeez.”
“It’s just concerning when what you write is about a real person.” He thought about his own story, with the astronaut grappling with his own inhumanity. “Sometimes fiction isn’t that detached from reality.”
“Well,” Paulina tapped on the lid to his laptop, “sometimes it is. Sometimes fiction is just a story. Maybe other stories are more rooted in truth, but mine isn’t. It doesn’t need to be. I can get Phantom to love me without me being dead, excuse you.”
“Eh, you might be pushing your luck there. I’ve heard Phantom has higher standards.”
Her eyes widened. “What did you say to me, loser! Oh, you’re one to talk!”
He sure hoped that her story was only a story.
#Danny Phantom#this started as a dumb 'lmao what if danny has to read fanfic about himself LMAO' and then it turned into this deep examination of#the nature of fiction vs. reality so I don't know how we got there but I am NOT complaining lmao#Danny Fenton#Paulina Sanchez#Danny Phantom Fanfiction#Phicc#Fanfiction#Fanfic#Phic#wrwritings#TW suicide#suicide#MINOR MENTION THO
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Meeting the Man-Ape
So @sleepsentry made this amazing AU and my childhood Tarzan phase came back like a vengeful ghost and teamed up with my current GF obsession to deliver this ficlet and an entire outline.
Anyway, here’s how I imagine Fidds’ and Tarzan!Stan first meeting.
*
Fiddleford should have said no when his old college friend had invited him to a scientific expedition to study anomalies in other countries. Maybe if he hadn't been so disillusioned with his lap computers, or if he hadn't gone through a divorce, he would've had enough sense to stay at home.
Instead, here he was, in some god-forsaken jungle in the middle of nowhere on a tree of all things, hugging the massive moss-covered trunk for dear life.
The humidity was suffocating, making him sweat to the point where his button up stuck stubbornly to his skin. He felt wet in uncomfortable places, itchy in others, and overall decided he did not, in fact, want to be here. To make matters worse, he was sure he would stumble onto camp smelling like wet socks. The ominous chirping and roaring in the jungle around him did nothing to alleviate his stress nor did the occasional shufflingnhe'd heard among the trees.
He'd gotten chased up a tree, lost his shoe and lost track of Stanferd and their incredibly untrustworthy guide, (a poacher of all things) and he was pretty sure he was about to fall to his untimely demise.
Wonderful. They'll probably never find his body in this unholy mess. His tombstone will read “Fiddleford Hadron McGucket, the Biggest Damn Fool to Ever Live”.
He huffed, holding onto the tree he was in the process of climbing. The tips of his toes were on the one he'd stood on. He stretched, pulled his weight up...and found himself stuck between both of them with no way to move.
Fuck.
"Well," he muttered. "It ain't like this can get any worse."
As if the Lord Himself had heard Fiddleford, a clap of thunder shook the sky, followed by a heavy torrent of rain.
"You know what? I shoulda known better."
He slumped, hanging his head between his shoulder blades. Against his better judgement he decided to see just how high up he was to assess just how bad he messed up.
One can imagine his surprise, then, when another human face floated inches away from his own.
Fiddleford yelled, pushing himself away from the stranger. He immediately regretted the knee-jerk reaction when he felt his body swerve downwards. Apparently, he was high up enough that the trunks of the trees felt dizzyingly tall. He flailed his arms in an attempt to regain balance.
A single finger poked his nose, then gently pushed him back. The gesture sent Fiddleford toppling backwards, until his butt landed on a steady surface.
Oh thank goodness. He exhaled in relief, allowing himself a few moments to regain his composure.
The soft thud in front of him jolted him back to his current situation. Or rather, the person whom he was with.
A masculine figure with thick, long locks of brown hair and hunched on fours much like an ape, observed Fiddleford with curious, child-like wonder. The only thing this person wore to preserve their modesty was a loincloth. The rest of their body had impressive muscles, their fingers and toes wide-spread to better their grip on the trunk they were on. Which meant they not only climbed their way up, they must've done so quickly, because Fiddleford certainly would've noticed a person like this around him.
Right. The fabled man-ape. Of course Stanferd would've actually been right about this one thing, and of course Fiddleford had been the one to find them.
No matter. His momma had taught him manners, and he wasn't about to throw those away just because he was in unfamiliar territory. "Er, howdy," said Fiddleford, cautiously. "It's a pleasure to meet ya, the name's Fiddleford Hadron McGucket." He extended his hand to the stranger.
The ape-man cocked their head to the side. Fiddleford couldn't help but notice how eerily similar this person was to Stanferd. Aside from the fact that they haven't shaved, they still had the same broad nose, the bushy eyebrows, the brown eyes alight with excitement.
Please, this ain't some movie. Stanferd havin' some secret twin? That would be ridiculous. But back to the situation at hand--he probably don't understand a thing I'm sayin'. This'll be tricky…
The man-ape cleared their throat. They pointed at themself, and with a shocklingly deep voice, said:
"Er...howdy. The name's Fiddleford Hadron McGucket."
Now that was interesting. "Fascinating...ya even copied the inflection of mah voice."
The man-ape copied Fiddleford's sentence again, looking pleased with themselves.
"That still spells the question of whether or not ya understand--now hold on just one second!"
The ape-man had crawled over and admired Fiddleford's shoe-less foot, a process which entailed pulling Fiddleford closer for inspection. They were mighty strong, too, judging by how easily he moved Fiddleford.
The scientist slapped the ape-man's hand away. "See here, there is no need for that kind of tomfoolery!"
The ape-man grunted. The message didn't come across, because he went back to touching him, albeit more carefully.
"No, no, that ain't what I meant!" A giggle escaped Fiddleford as he touched each of his toes, soon replaced by full-on-laughter.
This startled his companion, who drew back for a moment, giving Fiddleford enough time to catch his breath. They stared, watching Fiddleford intently.
They suddenly widened their eyes. Approaching Fidds once more, he placed a hand on his own chest. Then he slowly moved his own to Fiddleford's, waiting.
Now intrigued again, Fiddleford placed the hand over his chest. Once a few moments passed, they brought Fiddleford's entire head to his own chest and good lord they were hairy.
They also smelled like a sweaty mess. Fiddleford was quick to push them away. "Yes, that's a...mighty fine heartbeat ya have. Very healthy."
If this is what the anomalies felt when they studied them, he couldn't blame some of them for wanting to rip he and Ford a new one. He himself felt more than a little irritated at the bold-faced intrusiveness.
They extended their hand, but this time stopped in mid air, and held their palm towards Fiddleford.
With some hesitation, Fiddleford went up and held his own palm up. They placed it right against his. When their fingers interlaced Fiddleford's, he felt his face flush.
He drew his hand back towards himself, coughing. "Well, I-I think that's enough of that."
"Tar...stan."
Fiddleford blinked up at his new companion. "Say what now?"
They pointed at themselves. "Tarstan." They pointed at Fiddleford. "Er...howdy. The name's Fiddleford Hadron McGucket."
Fiddleford chuckled. "That's too much of a mouthful, I reckon."
"That's too much of a-"
Fiddleford shook his head. "No, it's. Now, wait, look at me," he said gesturing at their eyes and then himself. "Fiddleford."
"Fiddleford," they said, pointing at the scientist. They gestured at themself. "Tarstan."
Fiddleford nodded, his mouth split into a grin. "That's right! Now we're gettin' somewhere."
The sound of a gunshot had him jolt upwards, cursing up a storm. He was thankful Tarstan was too occupied glancing at the source of the sound to repeat any of it.
"That must be Bill." His lips curled into a disgusted frown. "Damn fool, shooting all over the place, he'll hurt somebody…"
Tarstan imitated the gunshot, an amused smile playing on their lips.
An idea formed in Fiddleford's head. "Do ya think ya can get me over there? To where that noise is?"
They grinned, which he took as a good sign as any. Tarstan looping his arm around his waist was considerably less reassuring.
"Er, what're we doing--sweet sarsaparilla!"
Tarstan leaped onto a vine, keeping his grip on Fiddleford as he did so. He managed to not only keep his grip, but also swing them from vine to vine in the direction of Bill's shooting.
He couldn't describe it then, but later on he'd reflect on the ominous twist in the pit of his stomach as they approached the camp. If Fiddleford had known just what would've happened in the next few months, he probably would've never brought them anywhere near Bill.
*
Extra Ideas that I Have:
-Ford secretly has been hoping to find his lost twin, who “died” in the same area as the fabled “man-ape” because he was separeted from his brother at a young age when [insert whatever idea one may have to explain how Stan could end up in a jungle being raise by apes, because I don’t have one]. He is estatic that not only is his brother alive, he’s an anomaly just like him!
-I imagine Bill’s motives being very similar to the Tarzan villain (whatever his name is) . Fidds in this AU is more suspicious, but is still unable to stop him alone.
-Fiddleford ends up falling for Tarzan!Stan and vice versa much like Jane does in the OG film.
-Stanford also is intent on having his brother return to civilization, but Tarzan!Stan is unsure about leaving.
-I imagine them having an ending similar to the film.
#tarstan au#stan pines#fiddleford hadron mcgucket#ford pines#bill cipher#gravity falls#i rewatched an entire scene just to write this#i never imagined this is what i would be doing at 25 but that's life kids#i don't have ideas they just chase me with a net and pin me down until i write them#or blindside me at work#fiddlestan
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