#Defunct Amusements

[gwydpolls]

Time Travel Question 66: 20th Century and Earlier

These Questions are the result of suggestions from the previous iteration.

This category may include suggestions made too late to fall into the correct grouping.

Please add new suggestions below if you have them for future consideration.

People suggested a lot of different ones. Feel free to put your favorite in the notes. There was no consensus as to which in the first round, and by the time I realized I should do a separate poll it was far, far too late and it would have taken hours to go through all the notes. If you suggest enough, I'll make one now.

[yogurthoopsart]

My Trans Roxy Agenda. Remember in Help Wanted 2 how they basically confirmed that the Glamrock endos have developed AI personalities and they choose their own identities (which is why Monty and Roxy exist despite never being characters beforehand)? What if Faz Ent didn't know original personalities could crop up at first. What if the pizzaplex started with the core 4 gang, the og Foxy got decommissioned for whatever reason, and got replaced by a new endo whose personality wasn't perfect but was serviceable. Bro what if the robots were gay. take my hand. come with me on this whimsical adventure.

[t4tails]

...STARRO THE CONQUEROR??

[hyper-coasters]

Scorpion, taken from the Serengeti Express

[sarahkite]

when you have two friends who you think would be perfect for each other

[ecclecticmx]

Today's favorites

[watcherwiki]

For Your Amusement new episode, posted on FYA's Instagram story November 26, 2024

Links: Watch | Listen

[thelegendofmrrager]

Ngl I forgor you could just read about theme park accidents... so guess what I'm doing now 😎

That was like, top ten past times as a kid once I found out wikipedia existed. The world is your oyster.

[the-crows-typist]

Time to get back into things

(Hi everyone, it's me! And it's been a really long time since I've touched this place. Still, I hope to continue what I started even though 2 years had passed since. Without further ado, hope you all enjoy!)

Wordcount: 700

A Little Story For You

Back then, Jamil didn't feel that it was likely he would wake up next to someone, yet here he was. His eyes scan the person before him, face half buried in the heavy blanket they shared and lashes long and curling naturally. The prefect of the once defunct Ramshackle dorm became an unlikely partner to Jamil, one he didn't expect to ever bear his heart to. His firm fingers reach out, tracing the skin of their cheek and near their eye. The prefect saw him at his worst, heard him at his lowest and felt him when he allowed the darkness of his heart to consume him. His thumb brushes their brow and he lets out a huff when they make a sound, stirring awake. 

“Good morning.” He whispers. 

Those hands of theirs, ones that never felt the hardships he did held onto him so tightly that he could still feel the marks of their nails on his palms. His gaze meets their moonstone eyes, opening blearily and searching for clarity. That gentle gaze held the desperate hope that pulled him out of his blot, the murmurs those lips screamed his name. 

“You may not value my life!” They screamed, their body dirtied by broken marble and powdered cement, hands pulling at him in a desperate attempt to pull him out of the sand that threatened to swallow him whole. The blot sticks to them like tar, tainting them with its heavy poison, entering their veins like snake's venom.

“But I still value yours!” Those words shook Jamil's core, how someone was able to be so compassionate despite the treatment they faced. Despite the betrayal, the wounds, and the fact he was willing to hurt them just because his heart yearned for freedom. 

“Jamil!” 

“...Jamil?” 

He blinks, their eyes beginning to shine once they come to. He huffs a laugh, pressing his forehead against theirs and their hands cupping both of his cheeks. “Yeah, it's me.” He says and the prefect makes a contented hum. “Mmn. Today's your special day.” They say, curling into his touch. “I wanna spend it with you but…”

“But?” 

“Bed's too comfy.” They murmur. “Need more sleep.” 

“C'mon, spending all day in bed is boring.” He lightly collides their foreheads together but not in the way that it hurt. “But…sleeping in does sounds nice.” The prefect lets out a tired but victorious laugh and assumes their next sleeping position. “Hyu-hyu-! ‘Told ya so.” 

Jamil was morning person, at least that's what his aching back was telling him. He sat by his mirror, twirling his magical pen to get his hair into a decent look. 

“Hey Jamil, Ortho from Ignihyde is here to see you.” Said one of his juniors, popping his head into his bedroom. Jamil pauses, thoughts searching.

“Ortho? Ah, right. Let him in.” 

Not soon after, the little android boy from Ignihyde floats all excitedly. “Jamil Viper, happy Birthday once again!" He says, moving towards him with a box in his hand. "Are you ready for part 2-Oh! did I come in at the wrong time?" He spies the prefect still sound asleep on Jamil's bed, their hand out peaking out of the blanket.

"No, it's fine. I'm just letting them be for now." He reaches out, intertwining his fingers with theirs and squeezing it. "You said something about a part 2?"

"Yes! I did some analysis and surveying and managed to pinpoint what you really wanted for your birthday! And it's specially made by my big brother." Ortho pounds his chest with pride. Jamil lets out a small, amused laugh and takes the box. It definitely was not a commercial grade refrigerator but he'll take what he can get.

"Thanks Ortho." Jamil says and opens up his gift. The small, compact 3-way mirror was exactly what he needed. "You've got good timing too. I needed something like this right about now."

"Hehe, I'm glad you found good use for it so quickly!"

The prefect stirs, their body moving as the noise rouses them from their sleep. Jamil smiles at them before looking back at Ortho. "We should move this to another room. But tell me, what else can your big brother do?"

[eameseames]

TAZ steeplechase is a reference to steeplechase park, a defunct amusement park that used to be on coney island

which was named after the steeplechase ride in the park

which mimicked steeplechase horse racing

which got it’s name from cross country horse races where they literally raced from church steeple to church steeple

the more you know!

[screams-in-writing]

Since it takes me longer to draw, you get two more fluff snippets first.

11- Switching roles of big and little spoon (2nd pov)

You’re home and your roommates aren’t, which means that it’s quiet and there was nothing to distract you from (reluctantly) get some things taken care of around the house that you’d otherwise been avoiding.

Once you finish, you let put a slow breath and turn, stepping directly into Mr. Puzzles chest as his arms wrapped around you.

“Hello, my dear.” The man’s voice said lowly as his metal tv head craned alongside your own.

“You can’t just phase into the house whenever you want.” You sighed, even as you returned the embrace, much to Puzzles’ delight.

“…then you shouldn’t have old, defunct televisions at the end of their lives plugged into the basement.” Mr. Puzzles countered with amusement tinging his tone, before offense colored it. “The same television that you and your roommates only use for get togethers once or twice a month?” The man gave an over the top theatrical shudder as he continued to gripe. “Either invest in another one, or let me host the little event of yours. Why, I could present the best of the best without anyone telling me otherwise and getting pushback on my brilliantly made art!”

“You need a break.” You stated, patting Mr. Puzzles gently on the back. “Don’t you?”

“Yes.” Mr. Puzzles admitted, with feeling, and surprised you as he easily lifted you from the hug into his arms as he carried you back down the stairs into the basement where he’d come from.

Ah, yes.

The giant beanbag.

You could see where this was going, and you were honestly ready for a moment to rest after the chores you’d done around the house. As gently as could be, Mr. Puzzles lowered you down to the floor alongside the beanbag. “Puzzles?” When you turned to look up at him, you could see him staring in return with a screen reflecting weariness, the digital eyes appearing to be fixed on yours. “What is it?”

“Would you…” The tv headed man waved at the beanbag, awkwardly avoiding your gaze now. “…hold me?”

“Of course.” You replied, going over to the giant beanbag to settle onto it, before holding a hand out.

Mr. Puzzles swiftly moved forward to settle on the beanbag alongside you, turning so that his back was to you. The man even scrunched up so that you could snuggle in behind him so that he could feel like you were surrounding him with your own body.

As you wrapped an arm over his ridiculously thin waist, Mr. Puzzles wrapped a hand around yours. Lying there, you could feel the man begin to relax bit by bit.

A comfortable silence fell, the two of you falling asleep cuddled together, and not waking up to the sound of your roommate Derek snickering over the way Rose was very solemnly (if contrasted got a great big grin) taking pictures of you and Puzzles as you slept obliviously on.

When you received the picture of Mr. Puzzles scrunched up with a content smile and closed digital eyes on his screen with your arms wrapped around him from behind with your face to his shoulder?

It ended up as your phone background to later be discovered by Mr. Puzzles when you were showing something led to him.

The tv headed man ended up with a blushing face and a crackling speaker sputtering nonsense as he pressed his screen into your shoulder. Yet Mr. Puzzles appeared pleased by your decision to have the photo be used.

It led to an amusing set of messages that began with a simple message.

“In case you’d like to see my devilishly handsome face while we’re apart.”

This was followed by a whole lot of photos of Mr. Puzzles himself. Then came further messages that were photos of the both of you, and even some sneak peek photos of his newest project.

The kicker that made you laugh was a thick envelope coming in the mail with even more pictures of Mr. Puzzles. But then, emotion suddenly choked you at several tattered, older photos with a handwritten note it had been hidden within another envelope with care.

“I hope you are well, my dear. Please safeguard these photograph. These are but only a few I have left of myself before my ambitions and obsessions changed me.”

What could only be a young Puzzles was on two photos. A young adult in another. Then, the last photo, the one closest in stature to the Mr. Puzzles you knew. The light in his eyes was no longer there like it had been in the kid Puzzles photos, instead a manic light in the photo.

You kept the photos safe, only realizing hours later that this was the first time you’d ever seen Mr. Puzzles when he was a human.

And he’d given you the photos for safekeeping; a piece of himself that he’d likely never shown anyone else before (apart from Meggy, who’d presumably gotten a look at a younger Puzzles during that Puzzlepark incident).

If Mr. Puzzles clung to you tighter when he saw you again, you didn’t point it out, and merely held him just as snug in return.

12- cuddles accompanied by little kisses (1st pov)

(Note-in which this took a turn to less cuddling and more Mr. Puzzles discovering he likes something; oops, but not really)

Despite absolutely being against a ‘beach episode’, so to speak, I couldn’t help but accept your offer to go to the beach with you, your roommates and a few coworkers who were desperate for sunshine on a nice day.

I’d have rather been all alone with you; however, since we were in your world and nit mine, I couldn’t ensure that my beautiful metal head didn’t go anywhere near the sea. I’d rather appreciated the sight of you reading those going along to the beach that they were not to get water anywhere near my head, and that it was hit a joke, as it could cause me irreparable harm.

I may have swooned a little dramatically at the forcefulness before I’d swept you up into an embrace to show you my appreciation (and allowing me to decide in that moment that I would, in fact, come along to the beach).

-

I despised this already.

I was appalled by the sight of all the people around, and did my best to keep in the shade beneath the umbrella in a quieter area. But I had insisted that you go have fun, with the others, despite being unable to enjoy the waters as easily any longer. I could submerge up to just below my neck, but preferably below the collarbones, to ensure I didn’t get any wiring exposed to the water.

Stretching out comfortably on a layer of beach towels to ward off the sand, wearing a tank top  and a pair of khakis (ordinarily I wasn’t so comfortable showing off my limbs, but I couldn’t resist seeing those blushes on your face whenever I caught sight of your gaze lingering on me). It made me happy that you were happy, enjoying the beach and the water fight that caused quite a lot of splashing. I was confused over you suddenly vanishing but before I could become concerned, you reappeared in dry clothing. Your hair appeared to have been ruffled by a towel to get as much water out as possibly, the why quickly answered as you joined me under the large umbrella in the shade. 

I perked up from where I’d been lounging with my back agaisnt a large rock behind me when you settle on my lap and pull me into a hug. I was quick to embrace you in return as I leaned over to kiss you with tiny static speaks from my screen, which made you hug me more tightly.

“I appreciate the offer to bring me along, despite being unable to participate in many of the activities here.” I said softly as I placed a few more kisses along your skin as my screen rested gently to your forehead to place a lingering kiss before drawing away to wear a softened expression, a little regret at being unable to properly be able to kiss you crossing the back of my mind. 

“Hey, Puzzles?” Curiously, you ended up looking around at the others on the beach and in the water, before looking back at me. “I’d like to try something.”

I studied your expression, and found myself intrigued by the blush that was there. 

Hmm.

Whatever could be in that mind of yours that would make you look like that? And what would it be, that you believed it was fine to try in public?

“Try…something.” I mused over it a moment, hands lightly tracing along your back, before I leaned back into the rock and flashed a technicolor grin of eagerness at you. “But of course. I would never say no to trying something with you, after all-“ I leaned in just as suddenly, nearly screen to nose with you, as a sly squint of digital eyes focused on you. “As my co-host in my new endeavor, I must say that I’m flattered there’s something you want to share with me.” I loosened my grasp around you to allow you to do as you would, which turned out to be leaning up in my lap and steadying yourself with gentle hands to either side of my metal head. I indulgently turned my head to the side at your touch, curious where this was headed and-

Warm breath trailed over and into my vent.

I shuddered, hands reaching up to grasp your wrists.

“Bad?” You asked, worry in your tone.

“Again.” I breathed through both the speakers in my head and a slight motion from my chest, my replaced mechanical lungs acting as though I’d breathed in that puff of breath. The next breath that rolled over the vent had me abruptly pinning you amid the beach towels, breathing unsteadily as false lungs and my facsimile breathing fought for control over one another.

“Maybe I’ll save that for when we’re not out in public.” You admitted after a moment, as you reached up to trace the underside of my television’s casing, to which I leaned heavily into with a happy sigh. “I haven’t seen that unhinged look of yours in months.” You tilt your head as static crackled. “There’s a more familiar one. The ‘I want to smother you in kisses but I’m too shy to-“

I growled low in my chest with traces of vocal cords that lingered, twined through wires and through my speakers as I closed the distance and proved that I was not, in fact, shy. I placed kisses all over your face, the zapping of the static audible while you laughed breathlessly and grabbed my shoulders in return to encourage me to get even closer. 

So I did.

There was no world where I would ever say no to being able to shower you with affection every possible moment that I was allowed to.

[dykeishheart]

Still thinking about Kevin Defunctland Perjurer and his FastPass video. Did you know that video has 19 million views on youtube?

Can you imagine? Here's this guy making videos about defunct amusement park rides. They net anywhere from a couple hundred thousand views to maybe a million. The two most popular videos he'd ever made at that point were about Action Park and Nickelodeon theme park, both sitting somewhere in the millions but nowhere near true viral success. He's still pretty niche, y'know? Then it's 2021 and he goes to work on something he's obviously super passionate about, so much so that he goes to the lengths of hiring an industrial engineer to make a computer simulation for the sole purpose of illustrating a point in a video that he thought less than five million people would ever see, because it's not that interesting in it? He even opens the video saying that it's everyone's least favorite part of theme parks, it's literally standing in line. It's boring isn't it? Right?

Then nineteen million autistic fans ate that shit up. Two hours of listening to an incredibly passionate delivery of incredibly niche information with incredibly meticulous research? Yes please!

[canis4christ]

i have 2 christen dis blawg with plf shigaraki but i forgot how 2 put thoughts into txt after tumblr sabbatical buhhh give me a minute -_-;

yes, ok—

Shigaraki and his harem of beautiful little lambs who worship the ground he walks on because their grand commander is so brave, so smart; so handsome, so kind.

Following him around the mountain villa, hands intertwined, nervously mouthing locks of their hair and shushing each other’s giggle fits and excited whispers just to scamper off like skittish foals when he turns to see them all watching him from behind fluted columns and newly-erected statues that have been chiseled in his likeness.

Sitting together at assemblies (that feel to them closer to sermons), writing his name in their journals and sealing it with penciled hearts, doodling his noble features and tired eyes while they eagerly await what scant wisdom he’ll provide that day.

Embroidered emblems and flowers from the garden. Trinkets and cards that wish for him to ‘Get Well Soon’ and letters of reverence and gratitude that read more like billets-doux all neatly arranged in a small shrine outside his bedroom door.

'You’ve touched our hearts, and soon, very soon, we all hope to be wholly liberated, just as you are and always will be.'

Sometimes—not often, but certainly sometimes—one of them will muster up enough courage to approach him, trembling and stumbling over her words, offering clumsy praise or a hesitant question while the others look on nervously, jealously, from across the dining hall.

What remains of the now-defunct League of Villains finds their fixation on him amusing, if not entirely bewildering. Some find it so, though not all. Others find it uncomfortable, and when discussed at length and in confidence, they might even find it worrisome.

It’s a strangely warm welcome to give to a new age conqueror—an overnight man who doubles as the murderer of their foolhardy friends and family who tried to put an end to him and his. The blood on his hands hasn't even dried, and yet, he's revered as their champion, their savior. It's all grossly unnecessary, he thinks, but…

“—the girls have taken a shine to you especially.”

“Yeah, well… whatever. As long as they stay out of my way.”

not unappreciated.

He tried to brush it off at first, dismissing their devotion as naive. Pathetic, even.

What do they take me for? he wonders. Their savior? Some kind of second-rate messiah?

But the word he's looking for, the word he knows very well, is far less righteous, though it seems to stir something far greater in him than any spiritual designation ever could. That word is hero. And to him, to his soul—if such a thing exists—that word has always felt right.

Fear is something he understands, something he’s comfortable with. But being feared is a fleeting kind of control. With enough time and exposure, anyone, yes, even the weak, can rise above their paranoias and phobias, shake it off like stressed dogs after a tangle, and go about their miserable little lives in a kind of pseudo-peace—a kind of willful ignorance.

And that's what he wants is it not? To feel in control? Is that not what it means to be wholly liberated?

The word for what he wants doesn't come as easily as the word for what he is. Can't. Because what he wants is to be loved for reasons other than personal gain and psychological warfare, and you just don't know what you don't know. Can't.

He takes to the girls like a shepherd to his flock.

And they swarm him like flies.

Because it isn’t enough to just have his attention, not when any girl with lashes long enough to bat can get that much from him. And his hesitant smiles and awkward thank-yous feel closer to bread crumbs when you're starving for his touch and his grace.

There has to be more. You have to be more.

Special. Singular.

A sort of... cold war begins. The girls, still unified by their devotion to him, grow to resent one another. After all, does anybody really want to share? If it upsets your tummy to picture another girl holding his hand, and it breaks your heart to watch another lean too close and press her soft, pliant body against his firm one, can that be considered fair? Or is it just another line drawn in the sand? Separating the enslaved from the liberated.

How quickly chaste pecks on the cheek become desperate tongue kisses when emboldened by jealousy and competition.

Why present him with gifts when you yourself can be presented—expose your body to him, sell your soul, proffer your maidenhood to be claimed and conquered.

His inexperience with attention of this nature is evident in his hesitancy. The behavior isn't reciprocated, but… it isn't discouraged, not anymore, anyway. If anything, he's noticeably more submissive, paralyzed by what’s familiar—phantom touches, wanted-unwanted advances—succumbing to the whims of his nymphettes as they suckle his tongue and pet the tension from his muscles—neck to groin, chest and back, groin again. And again. And again.

Petting, rubbing, squeezing. Greedy for approval and exception. Greedy for him, for the pulse of his cock in hand, on tongue, down a painfully small throat that feels as good as it does wrong. Lusting for a glimpse of his sharp, princely face squished between plush thighs, his tongue and lips, without practice, dog-bowling whatever makes you squeal the loudest and suffocate him silent.

Brutish in approach. Fucking too quick and too hard. Sweating and humping, awkward and insistent. Groaning with every “I love you!” and tug at his powder-white roots, climaxing with promises of total destruction and salvation from false idols and hollowness.

And so, the former leader—now exalted as Grand Commander, as God—spends what little time he has left on this earth, indulging in what he's never had. Allowing himself to be swept up in affection and praise, believing it to be an exercise in control, when all he's done is all he's ever done—

given himself up.

[teal-fiend]

preds who eat you for their own amusement.

they aren't hungry, they don't need to eat you to survive

but they're bored, and having you, a living, precious human, wriggle inside their stomach as they digest you alive - it's something to do. It gives the pred a mild satisfaction, and distraction from a dull day.

it's like having a glass of wine after a long day. A prey will relax the preds body, and make them feel at ease and satisfied. and watching their own belly shifting and squirming gives them a shot of dopamine, like a cat watching a bird from a window, it is satisfying to follow your instincts.

these days, preds don't need to eat prey; they have every kind of food in existence available to them. Prey are defunct as a nutrient source; there are much easier things to eat. but there is nothing that can satisfy the pred's desire to consume prey, because it is built into their brain.

it's enrichment for a pred. sure, they could just as easily play video games, or watch a movie, or do arts and crafts. but no, the pred chose to eat you for fun.

[hyper-coasters]

She will be missed. <3

[wolfgang1097]

What's up, folks? It's me, Ari. I just decided to show off this particular Spy vs. Spy comic in honor of Father's Day because why not. Is it just me or does this comic seem to give off an impression that Black is great with children? That wouldn't surprise me if he actually is, on top of being a youngster himself, at heart that is, obviously. You know what I mean? Either way, I personally find this strip rather amusing and adorable at the same time, I will admit. Imagine if they made an animated short of this strip for MADtv (the 90s series) way back when (honestly, I wish they did, kind of). Anyhow, to those who have children, Happy Father's Day. Peace.

I do not claim ownership of any content at all. The Spy vs. Spy franchise and this strip in particular belong to the defunct MAD Magazine and the late, great Antonio Prohias (Happy Father's Day to him too. May he live on in the hearts of countless fans until the end of time.).