#Sapling cookie

[tea-the-not-understanding]

This is Sapling new reference! He's tall as fuck too, big, large, like really large

When I'm done with the height chart, I can draw their proper reference to it. For now, this is the reference

Also this universe, each cookies have different names

Churro - Porra Shadow milk - Lactos Intolerant Lactos nightmare Lactos no bueno ( etc because me and @roseofdarkness0 having too much fun making fun of his name when we think about it.) Pure vanilla - Orchid Longan - Ivory

@ask-churro-cookie @ohabeeeeeee @kaylikestodrawlittlenightmares @m00r3-cha0s yo I did Sapling new reference, this is their third redesign- jkngkjgng

[autisticfoxgirl333]

Fictional Characters #5

[brittle-doughie]

Since we had that story of Y/N Cookie wanting to keep the Ancients from going out and getting themselves killed up against Dark Enchantress Cookie, how about something similar with the Beasts?

>The Beasts get corrupted

>Y/N Cookie, not corrupted, tries to fight them, and fails

>cue them starting to die

>Beasts start panicking, completely overestimating how much Y/N Cookie could take

>Y/N Cookie, in their last moments, wishes they could’ve done more to help the Beasts not get corrupted before finally going

>Witch(es) stumble upon this scene, seeing their greatest cookie having been crumbled, along with whatever other carnage is around

>cue literally everything else

Being sealed away with the guilt of spilling jam from the cookie you all loved the most fresh on your mind? They are NOT gonna be doing so hot in there.

The Tale of the Forced Hand (The Five Beasts)

Witch’s Castle witches are pretty neat.

“The story begins when this very Silver Tree was only a small sapling…When the World of Desserts was at its infancy.”

“The Witches baked six Cookies to help them in their creation of the world.”

“..harness the radiance bestowed upon you for the betterment of this world…”

“And the six Cookies imbued with absolute powers walked Earthbread as almighty envoys of the Great Creators.”

“Knowledge, Volition, Compassion, Happiness, Change, and Solidarity.”

“The Dessert World bound by these Five Virtues was nothing short of paradise.”

Gingerbrave and Wizard Cookie chimed in with their responses.

“So those six Cookies were the original owners of the Soul Jam?”

“Huh…Those “Six Virtues” are different from those of the Soul Jams. There’s six of them, yet only five today…”

“The Virtue of Compassion is what held the other Virtues so closely together, cherishing each of them equally as much.”

“Alas, for they and the perfect age were short-lived. Absolute power begets nothing but arrogance. It inevitably corrupts its wielder, bringing them to the most tragic of ends…A fate even the Witches were unable to foresee.”

“One by one, the Five, once regarded as saviors of the Cookie World, gradually turned to Darkness. And thus, the Five Virtues, too, became distorted, twisted…reduced to Deceit, Apathy, Sloth, Destruction, and Silence….”

Strawberry Cookie shuddered in worry at the mere mention of the fallen virtues.

“Deceit, Apathy, Sloth, Destruction, and Silence..that sounds really scary…

“Wait, what about the Virtue of Compassion? They weren’t evil too, were they?”

“The Virtue of Compassion was able to prevail against their descent into Darkness with their Soul Jam, whereas now the Five Beasts, the apostles of evil, began their dark crusade…”

“The Witches asked of Compassion to protect the Cookie World from the Beast Cookies, lending them what strength they could give.”

“Compassion fought bravely against the Beasts, blocking each of their blows and resisting their sickly whispers…But it was only a matter of time before Compassion slowly began to whittle…”

———————————————————————

“Come on, snap out of you all! This isn’t what you guys once were!”

“What’s the big deal, silly willy~ There isn’t anything wrong with dabbling yourself in a little bit of Darkness, you should try it with us!”

“No! This isn’t you! You were all my best friends! Come to your senses! Now!”

“It pains me to see you still cling onto false hope that you’re different than the rest of us, darling~ Can you just let go and become who you really are? For me~?”

“I can’t…I cannot forsake my oath to protect the Cookie World. You all know that! Cookies that want happy lives, don’t you want that?”

“They will all meet the same fate in the end, reduced to nothing…the futility of all this should be clear to you…”

“As if! It isn’t pointless to live life the way you want it to! It’s how you spend it and make the most of it!”

“They will all crumble in the end, so why not give them a little push! You’re starting to really aggravate me now, Y/N Cookie!”

“I won’t let you hurt them and I don’t want to hurt you all any more then I have to! Please, don’t do this…”

“……”

“Your silence says everything I need to hear from you. I tried…but I will put a stop you no matter if I’m reduced to bits!”

———————————————————————

“Woah….What happened to them?”

“The Virtue of Compassion fought for as long as they were able, their dough slowly whittling away with every blow that dealt to them. The Beasts have overestimated just how durable their former friend was…and they perished right in the middle of the circle….”

———————————————————————

“Ok, ya silly goose! You can stand right back up now! You put on a great show, let us give you a round of applause!”

“Darling, we know we haven’t hit you too hard. You can join us and we can all be together once more as Beasts…”

“Hmm…they don’t seem to be responding to us…”

“Hey, Y/N Cookie. Quit being soft and get up already, you’re..starting to worry me a bit here, you know.”

Silent Salt Cookie knelt down and placed their thumb on your wrist…jumping back when they feel nothing…

“Ahaha! Okay! This isn’t funny anymore, you softie! You win! Stand up on your two feet now! I’ll make you if you don’t!”

“D-Darling? P-Please get up. Look, I’m sorry for what I said earlier, I-WE just really wanted you to join us…”

“Burning Spice Cookie, just how hard were your strikes to their dough?

“D-Don’t put any type of blame on me! All of you were just as rough with them as I was!”

“….!”

The Beast Cookies rushed to their fallen friend in the center, clearly distraught on their faces…

“Y/N Cookie, if you don’t stop playing jokes with me right now, I’ll never forgive you!”

“Darling! Wake up! I-I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have hit you so hard! Please wake up! You have to! Don’t leave me alone!”

“It was pointless to try and stop us, Y/N Cookie. Yet…my heart cries and aches, why did you have to resist….please, wake up…”

“God DAMN IT. I-I went too far, I shouldn’t have been so brutal with my swings and now look at you, your dough..damaged and ruined….because of me….”

“….Hmph….”

Silent Salt just lowered their head to look at the ground, feeling nothing but shame and remorse for what they had done…for what they all had done….

“I wish…I could’ve done more for you all…I wished…that I had loved all of you more…to not…end up like this...”

“…..I’m sorry…..”

———————————————————————

“The Witches couldn’t bear to see what fate had befallen their creations, made even more distraught at the loss of their greatest creation among them all…they punished the Beasts by sealing them away deep within this land…”

“And planted the seed of the Silver Tree to ensure their evil power never sees the light of day again. Right where the Virtue of Compassion was laid to rest, so that at least a part of them can live on….From then on, this land where the Beasts were put to sleep, was called Beast Yeast.”

“The Witches then gathered the last vestiges of power bestowed upon the Beasts, untouched by their corruption. They further cleansed, purified it, and in the end…Soul Jam was created. The purest Soul Jam was meant to be earned by Cookies who had proven themselves worthy.”

“All, but Compassion. For their purity simply could not be remade again. The Witch who personally baked Compassion had locked herself away in grief after the loss of her cookie and took the knowledge of the recipe and baking of Compassion with her…”

“So, there can never be another cookie like Compassion?”

“It’s what they say, but all life powder returns to the earth. It isn’t out of the realm of possibility that the Virtue of Compassion may return in some form, someday…”

Everyone’s eyes turned to Y/N Cookie, who was casually eating some food offered to them by the Faeries.

“…..What?”

[yanderecookierunkingdom]

Six becomes Five

Next

Inspired by @brittle-doughie and his few works about the 5 Beasts! The ones were the reader being a part of their group caught my eye, so have this!

You were Compassion, brilliant, and beautiful. You aided the Cookies in their times of need, when they needed you most. Helping them up to their feet, using your powers to heal them, to soothe arguments. Your friends were once like that too.

Shadow Milk Cookie loved to put on plays for the Cookies, and have them join in. He'd always give you one of the main parts alongside him. It was only fair!

Burning Spice Cookie was always so valiant in defending them, with Silent Salt Cookie by his side. The two were nigh unstoppable, and with you near to always heal any wounds, they really were.

Eternal Sugar Cookie would often join you in aiding the common Cookies, always lounging on her cloud. She always made a spot for you, though. Mystic Flour Cookie would tag along too, going on and on about things seen. It always made you smile.

Until.. something changed.

You didn't notice it at first. It was subtle things, especially whenever you weren't around. Being cruel and hateful towards the Cookies, seeing them as lesser. For not having the power baked and blessed into you six.

You only saw it all too late when your comrades gleefully recounted all that they had done during one of your meetup sessions. You were briefly in shock before shakily congratulating them. You didn't want to anger them. You couldn't take all five of them at once in a fight..

However, you didn't need to wait long. Your Creators, the Witches, soon saw this and upon seeing you untouched by greed and corruption, asked for you help.

Mournfully, you agreed.

You called them all to the spot, saying you had a dance you wanted to show them. A special one, just for their eyes. It was difficult getting them in the exact spots, but once you did..

The Forks fell, trapping them one by one. You continued your dance until the sapling of the Silver Tree was planted, where you then bowed to them.

None of them could understand. Why would you betray them?

Why were you walking away?!

"COME BACK, YOU CAN'T LEAVE!"

For so long following that fateful day, you tried to stay there in Beast-Yeast, but it wasn't possible. Many of the remaining Cookies, that were the Faeire Cookies, couldn't bare to live there any longer.

So you said a mournful goodbye, and led the Cookies that wanted a new home to a new home. Crispia, you decided it would be called. Once many Cookies began to settle, you turned and left. You couldn't bare the thought of becoming like one of the Beasts, so you secluded yourself, changed yourself.

Your divine appearance, your name, everything. Once a Cookie representing Compassion, now you were a mere shadow of yourself. The only thing that stood constant was your Soul Jam, now a beautiful amulet around your neck instead of attached to your clothes.

It was the one thing you couldn't part with, no matter how hard you tried.

You rebuilt yourself. Made new friends, connections, loved ones.

Until the day came.

You had to return to that land to find White Lily Cookie. You didn't want to, but for the sake of the world, you had to.

Oh, it had all gone so terribly wrong. White Lily Cookie had awakened, you had your reunion with the Faeires, and then the Seal began to undo. Try as anyone might, it couldn't be resealed.

And from the rift.. came Shadow Milk Cookie.

Without a single thought, you put yourself between the group and him.

He opened his mouth to say something, but when he spotted you, his pupils went wide.

After so long of being trapped, hidden away by the seal and vines, Eternal Sugar Cookie's constant wailings about you being tricked, manipulated, or brainwashed had gotten to all the Beasts. It was the only explanation, it had to be.

And as Shadow Milk Cookie grins widely down at you, obession in his eyes, you swear to yourself.

You really shouldn't have come back to Beast-Yeast.

[anglicpetals]

Agere Petname / Title ideas

For tinies:

baby (girl/boy), sweetheart, love, flower, petal, sunshine, moonbeam, angel, darling, prankster, princess / prince / princette, little royal, buddy, sapling, my dawn, sweet (girl/boy), padawan, sweetness, doll

For pets:

bun / bunny, kitty / kitten, pup / puppy, lamb, cub, kit, dove, baby bat, fawn, bambi, fledgling, birdie, mini moth, buggie, baby bug, hopper, little leap frog, teddy bear

Food inspired:

cupcake, berry, gumdrop, honey, cookie, sugar, sweetie pie, sushi roll tootsie, bean, sweet pea, peanut, tater tot, pumpkin

For fem carers:

mama, mami, nana, m(o/u)mmy, m(o/u)mma, ma, miss, auntie, tia, amma, granny, grammy, mimi, didi, big sis, sissy

For masc carers:

papa, dada, daddy, abba, pa, pop, sir, mister, uncle, tito, zio, grampy, big bro

For gender neutral carers:

baba, zaza, bubba, nonny, captain, care bear, bubbie / bubby, big sib

Non english

mi corazón - my heart in spanish

mio tesoro - my treasure in italian

bambino - baby in italian

mon cœur - my heart in french

fleur - flower in french

ange - angel in french

[hwatermelons]

unconventional gender neutral terms of endearment ^^

(mostly made this cause my drafts always have "baby" a million times and then i replace them lol)

- pretty (as in pretty girl/boy, but without the gender word attached) - starlight/my star, sunshine - honestly if you put "my" before anything it could probably work as an endearment - animals: firefly (got the idea from sufjan stevens), bunny, dove, mouse, hamster, hummingbird, penguin, monkey 😭, kitten (this one's kinda popular) - flowers: tulip, rose, sunflower, a flower that's special between your characters - fruits/vegetables: pumpkin, bean, mango, lychee, kiwi, peach, nectarine, apricot, berry(!!), blueberry, strawberry, raspberry, cherry, etc - sweets! a special weakness of mine is sweets from the person saying the endearment's culture. like if someone who was also indian called me their kaju katli i'd melt (but probably not laddu unless it's clear they're teasing and i get back at them 💀). maybe runs the risk of being cringey tho? honestly as long as it's from the sayer's culture and suits their personality it's fine - examples of sweets that don't belong to a certain culture: cookie, brownie - nature: snowflake, raindrop?? (i guess it works if your character has something to do with water), sprout, sapling

and here's some classic gn terms of endearment if your character's more into that: - darling (i see this as a perfect alternative to princess/prince) - love/my love - lovely/beautiful - baby/babe (can be used in both cute and teasing/suggestive moods) - angel (personal favorite of mine!) - dear (it's so "grown old together" vibes, i'm in love with this one for this purpose) - honey, honey pie, sugar, sweet(ie). honestly if they're used for s/os, it feels kinda old-fashioned. but for parent figures saying it to someone much younger that they care about, children or otherwise? (i'm imagining a southern (from america) beekeeper with no children or spouse of her own who sells her famous honey to buy food for the small army of orphaned children that shows up on her front porch every morning for breakfast. and these are the kinds of things she'd call them. perfection.)

[farmerstarter]

eeee i love your work! could you do something with a fem (or gn that’s fine) reader with haley? maybe having a girls night? thank you so much! have a lovely day or night!!! :) 🩷🩷

ʚ📸ɞ ˚ · . A Girl's Night with Haley :

Tags: Haley from SDV x fem!reader

I'm so sorry this took so long anon! I got lazy for the past few days and didn't want to do any requests ^^; but I hope you like this, despite its lateness. If you have any requests then feel free to send me an ask!

🎀You and Haley didn't start off on the right foot so it's surreal to be in her room for a one-on-one girls night. If you told your past self you were sitting on her vanity, looking at the little red boats of her beach wallpaper and having Haley comb through your hair, she'd laugh in your face. But you were here, doing exactly that. Haley sent you a letter earlier that morning, inviting you to her room to spend the night. It was delicate, carefully crafted than the usual letter you'd get from your parents or Lewis. It smelled like Haley's perfume, a sweet undertone of cocoa. Even had a lipstick kiss mark at the end to seal the deal. You hardly dress up. The fanciest dress you've ever worn was for the Flower Dance, which you spent standing on the sidelines, totally not staring at Haley while she spun around. It's not that you like her (you totally do), but you decided to put on your better pairs of boots for the occasion. You're sure Haley would like the gesture and from her looking you up and down with a smile, it worked. But the boots weren't the reason why she was smiling.

🎀Haley baked cookies for you. They're in the shape of chickens. Well, as close to chickens as they could get. There were white ones, brown ones, blue ones, and one black one for the void chicken that's in your coop. There were as many cookies as chickens that you have. You could tell which cookie was which chicken. It surprised you. You've only shown Haley your coop once and you thought she was too busy making sure she didn't ruin her shoes. The cookies were your favorite flavor.

🎀It was spring, so the only thing that Haley has been thinking about was the Flower Dance. She insisted you help her practice her dance moves. She wanted to be Flower Queen for the sixth time in a row. You and her danced in the middle of her bedroom, your hands intertwined together. The two of you would take turns twirling each other, both of you moving closer after each spin. You and Haley ended up slow dancing in each others arms. She asked you to be her dance partner right then and there. You happily accepted. She later joked that she wouldn't mind as much if you won Flower Queen instead of her.

🎀You had sunflowers for Haley, your go-to gift for her. Literally the only reason why you started growing them on your farm. And as she always does, she fawns over it and says her thanks. You soon found out that she keeps your sunflowers in a vase in her bedroom. And for the sunflowers that were about to wilt, she told you that she turned them into bookmarks with Emily's help. She later told you her plan to make you and her flower crowns for the Flower Dance out of the sunflowers you give her 🥺

🎀It didn't take long for Haley to take out her camera. You two had a makeshift photoshoot, using all the hats, scarves and accessories in Haley's closet as props. Haley set her camera up on a tripod, and she would run to you to pose before the timer would run and snap a photo. The photos are an amalgamation of faces, some overly serious, most were just big smiles and blushing cheeks. Haley's favorite photo is of her kissing your cheek, the two of you dressed up in Haley's winter clothes. You decided it's your favorite as well. Haley keeps that picture framed on her bedside table.

🎀You've watched "The Brave Little Sapling", both of you wearing pajamas, and huddled together on Haley's bed with her head resting on your shoulder and cappuccino mousse cake on both your laps.

🎀The two of you baked pink cake in the kitchen, trying to be quiet because it was 1 in the morning. The two of you got that idea after finding a recipe for it in one of the many magazines that Haley has. It turned out great, a bit lopsided but that didn't stop Haley from taking pictures of your creation. It had little heart candies sprinkled on top of it. Haley broke her spring diet to eat a slice with you.

🎀You left the next morning with leftover cookies, one of Haley's hats ("It's yours now, I don't want my (y/n) getting sunburnt), and a heart shaped locket with a picture of Haley. Haley's got one for her too, one with your picture in it. She gave it to you the moment you were about to leave for home. She was descreet about it, making sure Emily was out of sight. She slipped it in your front pocket, blushing. And of course, she said good bye with a quick peck on the cheek.

[vxlentinescookies]

HII tysm for making my request 😭😭

Could you make some headcanons of some parent-child relationship Longan x reader *BUT* reader is like pond dino, what would he do as a parent in the HYPOTHETICAL reason they didn’t kill them ?? (*'▽'*)

→ ❛Sapling❜

→ Pairing ; Longan Dragon Cookie & Reader → Quote ; N/A → Genre ; Headcanons → A/N ; Here you go! Also, im glad you liked the request i did for you!

The dragon was no parent, in no way were they fit to welcome in children to their palace, so tell me why, why did they welcome you under their wing after almost turning you into stone?

Its an odd occurrence, at first they were about to turn you into stone, leave you as a statue and dont care about it the next day.

But when you clung to their silk attire, there was something that shifted on their mind, and for once, they questioned why they’d turn you into stone?

I guess in their mind they thought that, since you were so moldable, there may be a chance at taking you in and shaping you in the way they wanted.

Very well, you’ve been granted the right to live (in Longan’s mind), what now?

Taking care of such a young cookie is not a task Longan takes care of, instead, passing it onto their subjects such as Snake Fruit Cookie, they’ll take care of you better than Longan ever could, so the relationship you grow to have with them is merely one sided.

Grow to love or hate them, Longan dosent care, as long as you dont try to overthrow them, they’re indifferent.

They will, however, try to raise you under their ideals, so its very probable you’ll grow to hate cookies as much as they do.

You’ll be trained in every way possible, thats their wishes, and you will need to abide to them.

But for now, enjoy being a small inexperienced cookie, again, you’ve been granted the right to live, so truly, what will you become when you grow up?

[silverskye13]

Being the universe's smartest super computer still made for a derpy, non-functional person. It was really easy for people to get caught up in the Cool Sci-Fi Shenanigans of cyborgs and robots and forget how awesome and powerful organic, sentient life was.

For example: Xisuma has a perfect memory. If someone gave him a date and a time, he could scan back through his memory logs, replay recorded data and footage, and tell you the exact recipe he used for those vegan cookies that one time six years ago. He knows the ambient temperature of a froglight that's been submerged underwater for six hours, three minutes and twenty-nine seconds. He can rewind a recorded memory, pause the time lapse, and watch in slow motion as Grian breaks a stone block at spawn with his bare hands because he was bored during their intro-season speech.

However, recorded data takes up a massive amount of memory on a standard hard drive when you record everything you see as a passive function, and all of it has to be purged by hand, regularly, just so Xisuma can maintain the memory needed for daily functions. He's tried writing algorithms to do it for him, but even the best pattern recognition software can't account for his momentary preferences. What differentiates his favorite sunrise from any other? If he were human, he could program some kind of learning software using data from tables tied to the output of different brain chemicals and electrical pulses that most frequently line up with a formative memory -- but if he were human he wouldn't be making a program like that in the first place, now would he?

It's one of those long, long days of trawling through recorded data. It would be shorter if he would just parse through the most recent memories, but he likes keeping long-term memory storage at exactly thirty percent of his total data storage, and he's been resting at thirty-four percent for the past month. Putting off the inevitable. It's just, there's been a lot of stuff to remember the past few weeks, and it's hard to choose what to get rid of sometimes. He's started deep-diving through old data, walking down memory lane. He has to be careful, some of this data is important, tied intricately with the complex spider algorithm that forms his memory data access system.

Click! Click! Click!

"What are you thinking, X?"

The screen that makes up the lion's share of X's face organizes itself into a smile, lights flickering on in the nanoseconds it takes him to process the memory he's watching and attribute happiness to it. Yes, this is a good one.

The playback jolts as he looks down at Tango. Not pictured is a redstone project they are picking away at. Xisuma knows this because this particular memory has a transcript, full of branching tags and keywords that pull up a wealth of information alongside it.

That's another thing about memory that organic life never appreciates. Memory isn't just the memory itself. It's a web of associations built on prior, learned knowledge. A tree isn't just a tree. It's color and texture and symbol and "when was the first time I drew a tree?" and "apples" and "saplings" and a thousand other tiny associations they just arbitrarily have. Xisuma has to synthesize that web. A memory doesn't exist in a vacuum. Unlike the organic mind, however, Xisuma can pull up as much accurate information as he has the processing power for. This memory brings him two more closely associated recordings, associated memories he's kept for context, the transcripts of six more deleted memories, the definition of redstone, a playback of isolated sound he deemed important.

The playback continues.

Click! Click! Click!

"What are you thinking, X?"

"Oh, I'm sorry Tango, I didn't know you'd walked up! I was doing research."

"Yeah? What kind?"

"Oh well, you know the new update. Redstone's always a little finicky after."

"Right, yeah, totally. I've been putting mine off, honestly. I don't feel like fixing broken stuff right now -- oh but, I guess you can't wait, huh?"

Xisuma parses through the data brought up with the memory. He knows the date this was recorded, the recent change to redstone mechanics brought on by the server update. He'd had three farms break. There was a linked document to a transcript of Doc's rant on redstone as it relates to radiation. There was a script note document typed the day after this recording was created: Clicking Good. There was a preliminary version of what he'd nicknamed "The Tick Script.Exe".

"Yeah, I've got a lot of bugs to fix."

"Are you going to get rid of the clicking?"

"Clicking?"

The clicking was an ambient noise made when Xisuma's system was a bit bulkier, his algorithms and scripts that handled memory and data access crude and unperfected. It caused a disc in a driver somewhere to click when he did searches. At the time, the clicking had been the closest thing to an annoying habit Xisuma could manage.

Computers don't have habits. Habits are repetitive motions that become subliminal, that take effort to break, and are oftentimes formed subconsciously. Xisuma doesn't have a discernable difference between conscious thought and subconscious. He has background processes, he has backburnered data, and he has executive commands.

Xisuma queries the memory, pulling up related tags and searches, letting the algorithm reach. This memory had been the start of a, for lack of a better term, humanification process for him. There was his observation table on organic ticks, habits, and movements. It had taken a lot of uncomfortable staring, but back then, staring was all he'd known how to do. One of the first entries on the table was blinking. Organic things blinked, clearing away dust and debris from lenses and membranes. Xisuma didn't have eyes, didn't blink. But the screen that managed his facial expression animations could be programmed to blink.

Xisuma queries blinking. He pulls up a transcript of an interaction with Stressmonster, where she mentioned he blinked every thirty seconds. She knew this because when she first noticed him blinking, she'd noticed it's regularity. That was when Xisuma learned that, to convincingly blink, time variation was necessary.

Coding randomization into redstone circuitry had always been difficult.

Xisuma returns to the Tango memory recording, replays the question about the clicking, the unintentional habit. Xisuma still clicked when he thought. The others probably still thought it had to do with bulky drivers. In reality, it had been a test in trial and error.

How many clicks was acceptable for a thinking pattern? The three dot ellipses was common in writing, and a two dot pattern was too reminiscent of a heartbeat. When he'd temporarily switched to a four dot pattern, he'd noticed people getting impatient, or worrying if his mechanics were stalling. (Stalling and slow loading does sometimes happen, but it manifests in freezes and long pauses, not in repeating clicks). He invented a three click pattern, tested a variety of click sounds, settled on something similar to a rotary phone click when a number is dialed. It was a good sound. Heavy and sharp. It sounded like something falling into place with intention. Click! Click! Click!

Xisuma doesn't actually need a sound to think. But it's a clever replacement for harder to code things, like remembering to two a surface or fidget.

Click! Click! Click!

Shifting weight had been a harder thing to code. Standing stationary, legs an equal width apart, was the most steady way to stand. It also made him look like a statue, made his unblinking stares eerie and uncomfortable. Organic things read it as unnatural, borderline on predatory. Large predators often froze and stared right before pouncing.

Looking back through old memories, Xisuma could tell if they were from before or after his algorithmic programming because of how still they were. Made for clearer visuals, and he knows in high-stress situations that focus on accuracy, he can cycle them off, but they're comfortable for people to watch.

Xisuma rocks back on his heels away from the screen he's watching. If someone else were in the room, it would be a sign of thoughtfulness. For him, it's the execution from a random table of acceptable fidgets while standing still. He should turn it off. He's alone right now. But sometimes the movements still catch him off-guard and the longer they run, the more he gets used to them.

Xisuma queries: rocking on heals

He gets a handful of save recording bits. Doc rocks onto his back legs and stretches his forelegs. Gem rocks back and forth on the balls of her feet, her arms crossed behind her back, mischievous and excited. Scar rocks back on his heels and crosses his arms, thoughtfully examining some terraforming. Xisuma isolates the last recording and mimics it, feeling how the weight of his crossed arms counterbalances the lean back.

Xisuma queries his habits table and adds the motion to the list.

He never quite figured out how to program what to do with his hands. They spent a lot of time at his sides, or in pockets. Objectively he knew that was bad. Hiding the hands was often a sign of hiding something, and he liked being transparent.

Xisuma queries: Hands

Xisuma blinks at the long list of results.

Xisuma queries: Hands behind back

He gets several animations of Gem, Grian, and Scar, all with some variation of hands behind their backs and mischievous grins. Most of them are snippets made for studying purposes. Two are attached to longer videos, catalogued memories he's kept. His query returns almost four hundred memory transcripts.

Xisuma likes making transcripts. He feels it's similar to the hazy, distant memories people have when time and distance transform them. When someone else remembers something falteringly, he remembers the way he described it to himself. The older transcripts were rougher. He's gotten better at writing them over the years. His learning and pattern recognition softwares are still pretty good, even if they aren't perfect enough to manage the full range of expression on their own.

Xisuma queries: Do my friends know how hard it is to look organic?

This returns no direct results. He receives a directory of the people he's flagged as "friends" over the years, an article on the recent organics additions to the world in the latest update, and a handful of unrelated memory documents where he'd asked this question before and similarly pulled up no response.

Xisuma queries: Do I care?

This pulls up more entries. Xisuma glances across them and clears them.

Xisuma queries: Do I care today?

This pulls up only slightly fewer entries. He smiles. Asking subjective questions to a computer never gleans intended results. Computers aren't subjective. Or, well, they're not supposed to be. Of course, if he were merely a computer, he wouldn't be doing this, would he? If he were merely a computer, he would be sitting on a shelf, or a desk, running prewritten programs and searches for someone else, letting someone else build his code, rules by the guidances and intentions of someone who ultimately viewed him as a tool, if nothing else.

Xisuma queries: Who's flying this thing, if not me?

He pulls up a list of song lyrics and chords, a clip from a movie he'd watched once, an IMDB rating off some database somewhere.

Xisuma clears the data. He pulls up the last memory he was watching, rocks back on his heels and crosses his arms thoughtfully. He presses play.

Click! Click! Click!

"Are you going to get rid of the clicking?"

"Clicking? Oh, I guess I am clicking, aren't I? It's just an inefficiency. I'll fix it at some point, I guess."

Tango smirked at him. One of his hands plucked at his sleeve. Xisuma clips the motion, tags it with hands, nervous, thoughtful, fidget.

"You sure it needs fixed? I kinda like it."

Click! Click! Click!

[nightlastsforever-au]

Bio: Rulers of the Crystal Empire 💎

— Some say, Princess Amore will retire soon, and her place is going to be taken by Radiant Hope. Well... maybe some pony is working with shadow forces and plotting so that this doesn't happen. Does the name Cadenza reminds you of someone?

— See the other characters in this AU here:

Princess Luna 🌙 | DayBreaker 🔥 | HeartStrings | Strawbery Twist | Cookie Crisps | SunStone | Swan Feathers | Autumn Sapling

[cellgatinbo]

fit seeing the cookie missions today, and seeing that one of them is date saplings. he just stares at it and laughs a bit. "dates. we need dates today..."

[tea-the-not-understanding]

yo guys

@enter-the-hellfire @ask-churro-cookie @ohabeeeeeee @theblackcubeofdarkness @the-tricksters-domain

[autisticfoxgirl333]

Fictional Characters #2

[brittle-doughie]

(Attempt number 4)

Can I have a Millennial Tree fic? Nothing exists for this tree

Could’ve sworn I’ve written something before for him..

You: “So..that’s it. You’re going to give the CoD a seed too? After everything?”

Millennial Tree Cookie: “Don’t be so quick to judge harshly, Y/N Cookie. I saw how the one that tried to taint me has cared for Poison Mushroom Cookie, her soul is not at all pitch black as it may seem.”

You: “I’m…not following. What if they use that seed for evil?”

Millennial Tree Cookie: “That seed contains no power at the moment. Depending on this one’s heart, it might turn into a rotten seed, forever unable to sprout.”

You: “I guess that makes sense. Still a little wary giving them a seed….”

Pomegranate Cookie: “You need only a glance into the darkness to understand, Y/N Cookie. My offer still stands with you, but your..friends cannot follow.”

You: “I was wondering when you’d ask.”

Millennial Tree Cookie: “As for you, my sapling. I want to give you something more. I have watched your every move in my domain and how the Cookies around you have helped you.

Licorice Cookie: “What the?! They got a branch!”

Blue Lily Cookie: “Even Millennial Tree Cookie favors them!”

Lilybell Cookie: “Is his judgement not correct?”

Blue Lily Cookie: “No, I don’t doubt Millennial Tree Cookie’s decision and I have trust in Y/N Cookie. It’s just so soon that I’m surprised…!”

[thehotelojkids]

Question for the kids

What do you want to be when you grow up?

Milk Carton: I wanna join a show like papa OJ and Papa Paper!

Penny: I wanna be a lawyer!

Painty: A painter!

Wax Sealer: Um…an author!

Rubber Ducky: *Squeak Squeak!*

Red Envelope: A super spy!

Jalapeño: A…pianist…?

Nakiri Knife: Ga…mer…!

Blueprint: A scientist just like mama!

Moldy Cheese: A comedian!

Blue Raspberry: An astronaut, so I can spread happy thoughts all around the world!

Candlestick: Umama…mama?

Daisy: I wanna be…a teacher like Miss Strawberry!

Caramel Apple: I’m gonna be a ghost hunter! So I can bring them back to the mansion and we have fun parties!

Teacup: I wanna be a pa…pa…pat-iss…pa-tiss-erie. Mommy says it’s a someone who makes cakes and cookies!

Apple Juice: I wanna be a pet doctor, so I can meet new animals like dogs and cats! I wish I had a cat…

Sapling: Abaaa…

[noir-drabbles]

Drafts 1

Summary: Just an unfinished solo writing thing while playing Iron Valley. Basically it was just me testing out what it is I wanted, trying to create my own setting and characters, but then my brain got bored of it. So, I figured I may as well dump it here.

(I said I was going to start dumping my drafts here and I am going to commit to it. Drafts will be half actual prose writing and rambles on the side because I want people to enjoy the ideas and characters I have in my head. Hope this is fun!)

(Oh yeah, here's the link to the game I was playing. Lot of reading but it's easy to start and understand. Really does test out one's creative muscles.)

Today’s Spring pick for the Luminariae Post is as follows:

When a new branch grows, I always worry for what it may carry. The bark upon the trunk is many years old and yet it still insists on growing new leaves, new buds, and new fruits. A large and wise old tree, and yet it didn’t know age. It didn’t know where it should draw its limits. It simply grew and produced, as it always has, even when the threat of disease was always there.

But I’m not scornful. I’ll simply grab my polished clippers and snap off whatever rot has caught onto the leaves, onto the branches. I’ll eat the fruit it gives me, and carve a flute out of the wood I snipped off.

I’ve been there when you were young, when each new leaf would make me dance in the mud because I keep forgetting not to over water you. When your fruits would spawn out of seemingly nowhere, like your love for the world could not be contained, so you had to give it back as much and as fast as you could.

You’ve long outgrown me. I can’t even climb up to the very top of you as I once used to with my own little sister. You could still support me, but the youth in your new branches are not what they used to be. And yet, you still try and grow just as much fruit as you can, even when it’s no longer anything anyone can eat.

You’re just an old fool. You and I are two of a kind. And that it why you will always be one of my dearest friends.

And every day, I thank you for being who you are.

– Carmen

Heyo, author Noir here. So, the idea I had for this little segment is that every start of the new season, the Luminariae Post would post a submission that was sent to them by one of the residents in this small town of Arbor Hills. Typically they pick submissions that have something to do with the current season, or just a general connection to nature that can be connected to said season. It's also meant for the regular folk to take a peek into a small part of that resident that wrote the piece. Just fluff writing things.

Oh, and Carmen is a big ol dragon man, the one that basically provides the Reader with a house and a job, a nice bouncing point since the Reader starts off with literally nothing, not even clothes. He's a nice man, good roommate and clearly misses having other people live in his house. There's this big tree that the whole town pays their respects towards because of the sheer size and reach of its roots. In fact, most of the plants and trees you find often end up connecting their roots to that big tree, as it provides nutrients to said plants, leading to them weathering even the toughest of disasters. Rumor has it that Carmen was the one that planted that tree when it was a sapling, but that's just a rumor.

Spring 2

Time: [0/4]

| Forecast: Sunny | Luck: Neutral | Lucky Color: Lemon |

“Did you hear? Apparently our dear local baker has been in need of a new recipe to put as a potential special.”

“Oh? Which one? Is it that sweetie Ivory or that nutty Obsidian?”

“Don’t be mean Martha. But it is nutty Obsidian. Apparently he’s going a little crazy from lack of inspiration and just wants something new to really make his day pop from grays to happy pinks.”

“Hehehe, well in that case, you think he’ll want to try out some of my homemade cookies? Maybe that’ll perk him right up and get his head out of the pizza oven ashes?”

“Bleh, if you want to kill him… But yes, let’s. I’ll be the merciful one and bring him some of my delicious tea.”

“Let’s poison him together, Lily.”

The idea I had here is basically a cutscene being played out every day, where a couple of characters do something or have a conversation that implies a very long request. The town bulletin is still a thing, but those quests will end up being pretty short. The short requests do change often, I'd say once every two days, while the longer requests are more persistent, changing once every five days. Obsidian is basically this mad scientist-like baker that loves to go crazy with the designs and flavors of his baked goods. And, well, he's prone to losing inspiration and just wants something to get that flow going. He's a pretty intense cosmic star dude, the kind of energy that easy to be overwhelmed with. He has a sister named Ivory who helps out in the bakery, but is mostly found working with wood as the local carpenter. She's not gentle, she has that quiet intensity about her, and is just as wacky with her woods craft. She will get the request done, and will probably add some else to it. A weird feature that you probably won't notice until you accidentally activate it. Like a table that can convert itself into a suit of wood armor. You never know with these two.

Oh, and I have no clue who Martha and Lily are. Just that they're best friends who love to gossip, and were once very competitive rivals in school before someone tried to accuse them of cheating so they'd be unable to participate in theater. Yeah, those two were theater kids, and their rivalry, for the most part, was a fun exaggerated thing on their part that got a liiiiittle too real, but they're good now. They're middle-aged and married to their respective spouses.

“You doing alright?”

You snapped out of your reverie by a rumbling voice that’s not quite meant to overpower the general noise, so much as it should rumble underneath one’s feet.

You didn’t look at Carmen. You looked at his horns instead, all scratched up and chipped at in all their ridged and curling glory. It’s hard to look at him in the eyes. They aren’t particularly piercing, they’re just filled with a love for the world around him. A gentle and boundless love that he’s willing to share with you, a fellow roommate but a stranger still.

It’s… a lot. Too much. But it’s fine. He’s good and nice. He makes you all those warm and filling meals, and lets you take up a room in his house. You had nowhere else to go, but he gave you a hand anyway.

So, are you doing alright? He did ask.

You hummed out a yes. Because words would be too much in all this noise. The sensation of your throat rumbling, of moving your lips and making a conscious effort not to stutter. You’re already a little on edge as is.

“Hmm,” he copied your tone, though you didn’t know if that meant he believed you or not, “I know there’s a lot of little noises, but a small outing like this is good. It is something to get used to, that’s for certain.”

It’s… yeah, he’s right. It is a lot. Carmen’s farm isn’t exactly all the quiet either, with all the cows, chickens and bees he has, but there’s a different quality to the noise of people. It’s a… a rhythm, of sorts. The livestock back home are always keeping out a listening ear to the nature around them, so their own noises follow that beat, usually. But people… don’t really care, nor can they truly listen.

The rhythm isn’t bad, in the sense that it’s wrong and that people should pay more attention. It’s just… different. Absorbed in their own little pocket of time. And those pockets just, overlap in your ears.

You’ll probably get used to it, in the same way you got used to Carmen when you first woke up to his face looming right over under the arbor. It was an adjustment. The man’s over seven feet tall with a broad frame to fit, built over the years from heavy farm work. But, you suppose that’s the average height of all dragons. Well, his specific branch of dragon anyway. You don’t know any other dragon.

You nodded and let your eyes wander over the sparse crowd around you, to the area you’re both sitting on a bench in.

The village’s center, built around a pretty fountain that’s filled with little seashells, all in various pastel colors of white, blue and pink. One little kid in white sandals had to lay her belly on the ledge of the fountain just to reach in and drop her shell. Her little transparent wings fluttered with her excitement, dropping flecks of pink dust here and there.

A water spout spat right up her nose and the little fairy girl snorted then gave a big powerful sneeze. She launched herself right into the air. Luckily, before you or Carmen could rush right over, her father was right there to catch her.

Chuckling, her fairy father said, “I got a precious gift from the heavens!”

“No!” She yelled, raising her arms high like claws, “I am your worst nightmare! I eat your dreams and your banana splits!”

He gasped, “A monster! Oh no!”

She kicked her feet and lost a sandal in her giggles.

You jumped when Carmen gave chuckles of his own. The sheer volume of his voice never ceases to surprise you, that his happiness can be something so… loud? Strong? It’s solid. Which is kind of dumb now that you think about it. You’ve seen him lift an entire tree trunk with his arms and shoulder alone. It shouldn’t be shocking at all to find that his laugh has just as much power behind it.

But it is, because he would always bend down just so people could hear him. He didn’t like raising his voice just as much as he hated going into the details of his private life.

And with a flinch, Carmen realized as much. He looked to the side, scratched the back of his neck, and sighed out, “Sorry.”

Did you look bug-eyed? You probably did.

You shook your head at Carmen. He doesn’t need to apologize to you. It’s not his fault that you’re easily startled. Besides, he’s the one going out of his way to get you situated in this place. He didn’t have to do it, but he did anyway.

He nodded to you then hovered a hand right over your shoulder. He stopped, waited, and when you shifted closer, he patted you. The weight and strength of his bones alone almost made your joint creak.

“I’ll be going on ahead. I need to buy some things for the gardening day this week.” Carmen reached into his pocket and took out a few notes that you don’t really need. He pays you plenty for your services, but saying no to him–especially when he wants to spoil or be nice–just leaves a sour taste in your mouth. He stuffed them in your hands. “Go around, explore. Or relax by the community garden if you’d like. I’ll be by Peach’s place for the most part. I won’t go home unless you want to, okay?”

Ah, here it is, the big send off. You can’t really complain since you asked for this kind of time for yourself, but augh… It’s difficult all the same. You’ve been here for the better part of one year and you’ve yet to make a single friend. You haven’t really been trying, to be perfectly honest. Whenever you go out into the village on your moped, you’re strictly in working mode, schedule and time all planned out. Whenever people would try and talk to you during those hours, you get antsy and anxious.

You hate being off schedule. On top of that, if you weren’t working, you were around Carmen all the time. He’s a friendly and well known face. It’s only natural for people to gravitate towards him rather than you, especially when you would rather hide in his shadow than look at anyone.

You weren’t trying to make friends. Everything was just too unfamiliar for you to do that, or even think of it. And nobody pushed you to do that. In a way, you’re grateful for that, that the people here left you alone for the most part. A nice respect of your time and attention. They made attempts to talk to you, certainly, but that was about where the pushiness ended.

And, now, you’re calmer-ish. You can take the time and try.

You can go anywhere and make a friend.

…

Augh, you still can’t talk. Words just really don’t want to come out.

Well, baby steps, baby steps.

Carmen has since left you to yourself, with money in your hands. A nice sizable amount. Can’t buy a microwave with it, but you can grab a while feast of pastries if you wanted to.

…you know what? That sounds like a good idea. Having something to munch on while trying to make a friend would help calm you down some. Besides, a lot of people frequent the bakery. Surely you’ll be able to find someone who wants to befriend you.

That and you’ve heard of the gossip between those two women over there. Apparently the local baker needs some help. You don’t have any ideas, but maybe you’ll come up with something by the time you get there?

The crowd didn’t really get any thinner as you walked down the white stone path. Lots of people were gathered in small packs, but they were polite enough to shift slightly out of your way. You followed the scent of bread and soon enough found yourself inside the cozy atmosphere of a bakery.

Honestly, it seemed more like a home than it did a bakery, which makes sense since it looked like a store/home hybrid from the outside. But, rather than a home that seeks to hide emptiness with store bought furniture the owner vaguely likes, each table, chair and even the frame of the mirrors in this place were clearly handmade.

It was small though, and all the furniture had people either gathering or sitting on it. There wasn’t anywhere you could just pick and sit down for an hour or two while you mindlessly pick at your pastry and watch the people go by.

A healthy routine makes for a good base for potential friendships. At least that’s how Carmen puts it. You’re not sure if it’s true, but you may as well try, right?

You walk to the back of the line and wait. At the front, behind the register was someone that you can only describe as a galactic black hole. The white light that makes up what you think is hair slowly swirls around in a clock-wise motion, collecting light like a vent does smoke as it slowly gathers in some dark center you can’t make out. The white light hair fades into a dark shadow dappled with white little star pinpricks, doing nothing to to take away from the bright eyes that look around this way and that.

This person had no mouth to speak of as he nodded and packaged a new box of pan dulce. It’s interesting to you, watching the way their body never quite stabilized into something truly solid, but it was enough for his clothes to hang on. He didn’t have a uniform, it was just a set of comfy billowing clothes that had little tears and big patches over what was probably holes.

His form stretched up, bending in ways a shadow would as he gave the box to the person waiting in line.

“You wanted a surprise and a surprise is what you’ll get!”

Aaaand this is where I lost my steam, and I had a pretty good pace going too.

Reader is basically this dryad person that was born from the big tree(of which I have yet to name, eh) and as such, has little to no knowledge of many things beyond the general basics. Socializing is obviously not their thing. Many of the towns people just think they're a traveler from afar that suffers from amnesia, but since nobody witnesses the Reader coming out of the tree, it can't really be disputed that they're not a traveler.

There's a biblically accurate angel just, hanging out in Arbor Hills. He's the current master carpenter and boss of Ivory. He spends most of his time sleeping, and in the rare times one manages to make a request to him, you can be sure that whatever furniture he makes will never break, and will even have a little buff to them.

The angel's name is Peach, because someone called him "an absolute peach." With the last name Angel for the sake of simplicity. No matter how you poke and prod at him, you can't get details about his past, you'll just get references about how empty of an existence he was living before coming here. Now he can dream all he likes.

There's a tradition at the start of a new year to share stories you may have or have written. Arbor Hills is all about communal story crafting, so often the whole town will come together to either craft a new fairy tale, or add on to another existing tale. The only rule is that it has to have at least one true event in there, or be based on a true event. So you could have witnessed a bug trip over grass and flip itself over and craft a tale about a malicious weed that seeks to grow and prank all the bugs that nipped at it. That kind of thing. So, one of the Promises is to get ideas and make a story before Spring 1 rolls around. There are usually two groups, one group that's full of people that have written their stories on their own, and the other group that shares their ideas for a group story making session. Perfection is not expected. Just have fun. And if you don't want to make a story, just be a listening ear.

There's also another tradition where, after reaching a certain age, kiddos go to the community garden to pick out a seed they like and plant it somewhere in the town. This tradition does stretch out beyond just for the kids, you can do this as a new adult, or when you reach a huge milestone in your life. Don't worry about having to take incredible care of it, these seeds are magical and are often deeply connected to you. They grow as you grow, and if they get sick, you can be assured that they'll be taken care of by the garden spirits of the forest.

There aren't many dragons to be found. There be different types of dragons, but their lifespan varies quite a bit between them.

Same for the dryad. There's nobody else quite like you, and if there is, they're usually no bigger than the size of your palm. Tiny, squeaky things.

I know I have more things sitting in the brain, but I need to prodded at to really remember. So, if you want to poke at my brain, be my guest!