#dinosaur bone anon

[myshredda]

WAIT OH MY GOD THAT REMINDS ME I MEANT TO THROW YOU THIS THEORY- i havent checked but has red ever been shown experiencing any level of gore to prove that his body has organs in the conventional sense? both duck and yellow have been shown to bleed and scab and have organs. but then we look at lesley and her makeup clearly shows stuffing under the stitches DOSE RED HAVE STUFFING TOO?? anyways this expands upon the cute thing people have been doing where they sew patches on him, because then the patches are like bandaids and that makes the whole thing extra cute to me-🦖🦴

Red (in the webseries) was shown to pull a chunk of some unrelated meat from his head in the Time episode when Tony speeds up their aging

but at the end of the Computers episode, when his head 'pops' it's like a balloon filled with conffeti

Moving into the Channel 4 series there's definitely WAY less gore related jokes with Red, and I'm not sure if this is for thematic reasons or if it's just easier to do gore bits with Duck and Yellow because they're puppets and Red is a human in a body suit. Maybe it's easier to film a hand being cut off a puppet than it is a person in a bodysuit, who knows!

But there is that moment in the Family episode when the family tree drains his blood to 'help him find his family members'

So I think he has weird gory insides, same as the other puppets! Like Warren and the twins have also been proven to have blood/guts, and I think that's part of what makes Lesley extra terrifying. If she's a real puppet, what does that make the rest of them?

Also I LOVE when people draw him with patches like he's been sewn back together, I think it's adorable.

[garfieldstim]

um! could i request a paleontology themed stimboard? Especially one with a lot of real fossils or maybe even a mix of field and lab work / museum work would be really cool?

paleontology stimboard for anon

x x x / x x x / x x x

[nicka-nell]

Can i request tsukishima, kuroo, semi and futakuchi being interrumped at sexy moments with their s/o (for example, they are kissing your neck so slowly that you can't breathe and boom! the door bell)

Hi anon! I don't know what happened, but I suddenly had a big boost of motivation and just wrote your sweet request. 😅🥰 I really need to get back into writing... It was so unfamiliar and kind of hard, but it was still fun. Sorry if it's kind of bad. I tried my best. 🥹

Getting interrupted during sexy time

Pairing: Tsukishima x, Kuroo x, Semi x, Futakuchi Kenji x reader

Warning: fluff, slightly mention of nsfw, mdni

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

“Tsukki... are you still reading through that report on dinosaurs?” you sigh as you get up from his bed and walk over to his desk, looking over his shoulder. 

“This isn’t just any dinosaur. It’s a Camptosaurus, one of the rarest. Researchers found bones of this dinosaur a few days ago.” Tsukishima replies in his usual tone. Instead of answering him, you just nod with a slight smile. It’s actually quite cute when he talks about something that fascinates him. 

“Ooh, I see... what did they look like before?” you ask curiously, taking the opportunity to roll his desk chair backwards and sit on his lap. A grumpy ‘hey’ escapes Tsukishima as you make yourself comfortable, your back against his chest. He accepts it and puts his free hand around your waist. 

“Here... this is what a camptosaurus used to look like.” Tsukishima leans forward. You automatically move with him as he hands you his cell phone and you look at the pictures in the report. “Wow, that’s a big dinosaur. I’d be an easy snack for it.” you giggle and glance to the side at Tsukishima, who is looking over your shoulder at his cell phone. 

“No, they were herbivores. At most, it would eat your plants that you look after sporadically,” he replies sarcastically, and you stick your tongue out at him before laughing lightly. Now he looks away from his cell phone and up at you. 

“What? I’m right,” he says, and you just roll your eyes playfully. “Sometimes you’re really mean. But I love you for it.” You reply and watch Tsukishima’s eyes widen for a moment. The tips of his ears redden before he turns away. Oh Tsukki... you think and turn a little more in his lap, so that you are now facing him head-on, before you cup his cheeks with your hands and kiss him. “What, shy?” You say mischievously, but he only returns your grin with an arrogant look. 

“Shy? Did you see your reflection in my glasses?” he teases back and leans forward, trapping you between himself and the table. “Oh, now I’m scared,” you say sneeringly, as Tsukishima pulls you towards his hips by your waist, his face bent forward. “Don’t be cheeky, or else-“

“Or else what?” you interrupt him before he whispers softly, “Punishment.” Before you can get any further into your teasing, you feel his warm lips on yours. Your heart beats fast and you feel like you’re on fire. His fingertips, which sneak lightly under your t-shirt and touch your skin, make you sigh softly.

“Have you lost your tongue?” he whispers before his lips meet yours again. His kiss is slow and long. His tongue parts your lips before the kiss becomes even more intimate. 

You feel his thumbs caressing your bare skin under your shirt, slowly traveling up your sides before you break away from the kiss and look at him with a mischievous grin. “Who knows? Looks like you’re going to have to try to get me talking again.” 

“Easy.” he replies grinning, before he starts to kiss your neck. His lips are warm on your skin, his teeth nibble lightly. 

“Is that a challenge?” you breathe as you tilt your head back, your hands wrapping around Tsukishima’s neck. You feel his smirk on your neck, his hands pushing your shirt up and his upper body pressing even closer to yours, pushing your back further against the table behind you. “Mhh Tsukki...” you sigh and feel the desire for more rising inside you.

“Easier than I thought.” he smiles triumphantly as he continues to kiss your neck when you suddenly hear the door opens. 

“Do you want to have dinner with us later or are you going to the cinem-?” you hear Akiteru, who enters the room happily and quickly gets wide-eyed when he sees you both. 

“Eh, I… well... I think mum just called.” He turns around somewhat awkwardly and instantly closes the door behind him. Embarrassed, you put your face in your hands and feel like sinking into the ground. 

“Oh my God, how shameful...” you sigh, but instead of being embarrassed, Tsukishima clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes. “Annoying... He’s old enough to know that doors aren’t decorative objects. They’re there to be knocked on before you pull the door open,” he says with a slightly annoyed undertone. 

You feel your face grimace as you glare at him. “That’s not funny Tsukki. How am I supposed to look your brother in the eye at dinner now?” 

Your snappy words make Tsukishima roll his eyes again. But it’s not an annoyed eye roll, more like an amused one. “Just don’t look him in the eye if it bothers you that much. But just for the record... my room has neither airtight windows nor doors. In other words, it’s not a soundproof room. Don’t you think my brother knows what we do here at night? I’m pretty sure he hears you every time. You’re not exactly quiet, are you?” Tsukishima teases you with a smirk before leaning forward and pulling your hands away from your face to look at you. 

“Tsukki! My God, why would you say that? I hate you!” you say mad, feeling the heat only rise to your face more before you kick him lightly and sigh more. Ah, Tsukishima loves to see your embarrassed face when he teases you. “Sure, that’s why you annoy me every day.” he smirks before giving you a kiss on the nose. 

The national team’s volleyball matches are coming up again and Kuroo is working overtime more often. He’s staying late at the office today. He's the only one except for a few colleagues there, when you knock on his office door and enter it. With a gentle smile, you hold a bag of food in the air. Kuroo still seems to be in a videoconference. You quietly unpack the box of food and place it on his desk before making yourself comfortable on the sofa in the corner of his office as you wait for his meeting to be over. 

It doesn’t take long for him to say goodbye and take his headset off his head, rubbing his eyes tiredly before clicking on the “leave” button for the online meeting. 

With an understanding smile, you walk to him, wanting to ask him if you should massage his shoulders, but Kuroo is already stretching out his hands, grabbing yours, before pulling you onto his lap and giving you a kiss.

“Don’t forget to eat something in between,” you say worriedly as Kuroo leans his head against your chest. “You know I’m not a child to look after, right?” Kuroo says teasingly, even though he likes that you’re worried about him. 

You roll your eyes lovingly before looking at the bento box you have prepared for Kuroo. You release your hands from his before reaching for the box to open it. Still sitting on his lap, you pick up the chopsticks and a small piece of tamagoyaki before you bring it to Kuroo’s mouth. “Go on, eat my little baby.” you tease him warmly as Kuroo grins and puts his hands around your waist, opens his mouth and lets you feed him. 

“Well, kitten, I could get used to that,” he purrs as you giggle. “In your dreams. Don’t get too used to it. You’re not old and fragile yet.” you say as you reach for the next piece of tamagoyaki, but you pause as Kuroo’s lips move gently over your neck, nuzzling your skin. 

“I’m actually hungry for something else,” he whispers in your ear as he starts to nibble on your earlobe. His thumb lightly caresses your hip, his breath is warm on your skin and you quickly realize how shy you suddenly feel. 

“Tetsu... there are still colleagues of yours in the office... what if someone comes in? We shouldn’t do something so naughty here.” You reply sheepishly and look to the side. But Kuroo doesn’t even think about stopping now. 

The week was more exhausting than usual. He was hardly ever at home and had many meetings with sponsors or young talents who needed to be supported. To avoid waking you up in the middle of the night, Kuroo either slept in his office or on the sofa in the living room. He misses being close to you. He was glad to see you again today after a hard day. You somehow looked even more charming than usual today. Even if that’s not possible. He’s sure you could have come into his office in sweatpants and a baggy jumper, but his first thought would still have been, ‘wow, that’s my wife’.

“Let them be. There should only be a few colleagues left, anyway. The colleagues who are still working have no reason to come into my office,” Kuroo says throatily between kisses, before his hand strolls from your hip to your chin, he moves away from your neck and peers at you mischievously.

“Besides, you’re the one who said my statement was indecent. How could you possibly think that I had something naughty in mind? I actually only wanted to eat the rice in the bento box and not the egg,” Kuroo says you with a grin. 

Embarrassed, you try to look away, but his hand on your chin stops you. “Now I feel a bit silly. Then... wait, I’ll give you the rice,” you say almost shyly, but Kuroo chuckles. 

“Where do you think you’re going? That was a lie. The thing I crave most right now is right in front of me.” he whispers almost like a predator looking at his prey as he brushes your lips with his thumb before his hand moves to the back of your head when he pulls you close to kiss you. 

His kiss is slow but firm. His tongue quickly finds its way between your lips and makes your heart beat even faster. “Tetsu...” you sigh between kisses, feeling his grin on your lips. “Oh my kitten, don’t worry about the others here. If you stay quiet, no one will hear us, and no one will find out that we’re about to give the desk a quality check.” 

“Shush, you talk too much.” You say sheepishly, feeling his hand wrap itself tighter in your hair as his other hand slides under your top. 

Kuroo is just about to say something, when the vibrating of his mobile phone makes him sigh briefly. He considers answering it, but then he ignores the call and concentrates on kissing you again, pressing your body even closer to him on his lap. “Ah, Tetsu, at least see who’s calling you. Maybe it’s important.” 

“You’re the most important thing right now,” he says hungrily, but you push him away and look at him seriously. Kuroo sighs in frustration, making a mental note to block the contact who has now called him and disturbed your togetherness and remove him from his friend’s list if it’s not really important. 

He clicks his tongue as he reaches for his phone and picks it up even before he can read who is calling him. But his annoyed expression suddenly changes. His eyes grow wide, almost panicked, as he reaches for his mouse and looks at his computer screen. “Kuroo-san, you really seem to have a lovely wife, and I don’t want to disturb you. But… You’re still in the meeting and we can hear and see you,” says an investor with whom he and two of his colleagues were at the meeting earlier. 

Kuroo checks the app he had used for the meeting and sees that instead of clicking the “Leave” button, he had simply minimized the window. He was still in the meeting and everyone could see and hear you. Caught and with a charming smile, Kuroo apologizes before quickly leaving the meeting, almost not daring to look in your direction. Because he knows that you are staring at him with a look that could kill. 

Semi is sitting in his garage as he plays a melody on his guitar and goes through the lyrics he wrote yesterday when he was slightly drunk and partying with his band mambers. 

He is not entirely happy with the melody. It sounds so sad, although the lyrics are actually beautiful. Maybe he should take a break? After all, he’s been practicing here for a while now. “Just one more time, then I’ll take a break,” he mumbles to himself as he starts to play a new melody to the song. Completely in his element, he doesn’t notice when the door to his garage opens and you walk in. 

You wait until he has finished his song before you start clapping. Semi flinches before looking towards the door in your direction. He grabs a cushion that’s next to him on the sofa and throws it in your direction. “Tell me, are you trying to kill me with a heart attack? I’m not that successful yet that it would be worth it for you,” he pouts, but he doesn’t mean any offense. 

Laughing, you catch the pillow and throw it back before walking to him and placing two bottles of juice and two boxes of noodles on the table in front of him. Before you sit down, you cup his cheeks with your hands and give him a loving peck. “Oh damn, I guess I’ll have to wait a few more years than, right? Although... if you keep writing hits like the song you just wrote, then maybe it will only take a few more months.” You say playfully with a smile and brush a strand of hair behind his ear. 

Semi’s ears turn red, his hands still on his guitar before he realizes that you must have just heard the whole song. He had written a song about you. About the woman who turns his head, who will be the death to him even in his dreams. About the woman who makes him smile every day, because that’s what she does to him every day and she doesn’t even have to be there. Because just the thought of you is enough. About the woman who makes him feel strong in every situation, who always supports him. And then there were a few lines that weren’t so suitable for minors. 

“Do you think it’s really sexy if I walk into our kitchen in the morning in just your shirt and make us a coffee?” you grin teasingly. Semi pouts, unsure how to respond. 

You lean further towards him, your fingers brush against his, still holding the guitar. “You know, I find it really sexy when you play the guitar. The way your hands move, how passionate you look when you sing the lyrics you’ve written yourself. Sometimes I wish you’d replace the guitar with me and play with me like you play your guitar,” you say seductively with a hungry look.  

Oh, you really are the death to him, Semi thinks, now also red in the face as he turns to you and his shy look has twisted into a confident and strong smile. “Hey watch out pretty-face. A wise man once said that you should be careful with your wishes, otherwise they will soon come true,” he whispers hoarsely to you, just inches away from your face. 

“Is that so? Then I hope he’s right.” You whisper just as confidently before closing the last distance between you two to kiss him. You playfully bite his lower lip. Your hand caresses his cheek before you wander down his neck, your fingers play with his necklace. You smile briefly before tugging on the necklace and pulling him closer to you. 

“Oh, God, you’re going to send me to hell,” Semi says in a raspy voice before putting down his guitar to kiss you again. He leans forwards, pushing you down onto the sofa before lying on top of you between your legs his lips never leaving yours. His kisses are stormy, taking your breath away.

“Good," you breathe, reaching for the fabric of Semi’s top to pull it off. You throw it on the floor, your hands caressing his muscles hungrily, only giving Semi an even bigger ego boost. 

“Fuck, I love when you do that,” he moans, still kissing you fiercely as his hand slides to your leg, bending it slightly and squeezing the flesh of your thigh. A murmur escapes him as his hand moves further up your skirt to your bum. “Baby, you do things to me-“ 

“Oh boy, here we go again...” a familiar voice suddenly interrupts him. Cursing, Semi flinches and pulls your skirt back into place before looking towards the door. Two of his band mates are standing in the doorway of his garage. The band’s second guitarist looks to the side, embarrassed, and scratches the back of his neck, while the bassist puts his hands on his hips and looks at Semi, shaking his head. 

“Fuck, what are you doing here?” curses Semi, before standing up and helping you into a sitting position. He always meets up with his band in his garage on Fridays. Each of his colleagues has a key to the garage so that everyone can stay longer, even after band practice is over. But today was Thursday... 

“Really? You were the one who wanted to move the rehearsal to Thursday this week because you wanted to meet up with your former school friends tomorrow. You wanted to cheer for that guy... Wakatoshi, right?” the bassist sighs, before taking a few steps forwards and grabbing Semi’s shirt. With a hiss, he throws the shirt in his face. “Can’t you find a room? This is the... fifth time we’ve caught you rubbing your love life in our faces. Or are you secretly telling us to join in? Are you into a gangbang or what?” The bassist laughs as he teases Semi with his words. 

Annoyed by his own forgetfulness, Semi rolls his eyes as he catches the shirt. He sulkily puts the shirt back on before placing his hand protectively on your thigh. “Nothing there, I’m not sharing my girl,” he says seriously, even though his band mate had only said it as a joke. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to give his bandmates a key to the garage after all. Or maybe you should just start keeping your hands to yourselves before and during band rehearsals. 

Futakuchi has just come home from work when he walks into the living room and sees you sitting there with a book in your hand. He looks around the room before his eyes land on you again. “Baby, you’ll damage your eyes if you read a book in this poor light,” he says, before flicking the light switch and turning on the light. 

Engrossed in your book, you didn’t realize that the sun was already setting. “Oh, that’s right... thank you. How was your day?” you ask him as you close the book and look at him with a smile. He comes to you and gives you a quick kiss before stretching. 

“Annoying. The customers were just extremely weird today. With some of them, I wonder how they even get through life,” he grumbles, before undoing the first buttons of his shirt. “But anyway, let’s not talk about work. I’d like to take a shower now and then maybe we can continue watching the series we started yesterday. What do you think?” 

Futakuchi has never been someone who likes to talk about his work. But perhaps it’s just as well that he doesn’t take his work home with him. In any case, he never really seems exhausted or overworked. So you just nod with a smile and pick up your book again. In the time Futakuchi is in the shower, you’re sure to manage another twenty pages. 

Fresh out of the shower, Futakuchi pulls on a pair of shorts and a shirt before rubbing his hair dry and heading back into the living room. With a sigh of relief, he heads for the sofa when he sees you lying there. You’re lying on your stomach, your book in front of you, and your ass right in front of his eyes. In those tight, sexy leggings. Oh, how he loves the way your ass wiggles in those things. 

Unconsciously, he bites his lower lip, sneaks up to you before giving you a slap on the ass and squeezing it with his hands. He jumps on the sofa, kneels over you before playfully pretending to bite your shoulder from behind. 

“Kenji! Haha stop, that tickles.” you laugh, close the book and try to turn around, but Futakuchi won’t let you. 

“You’re doing that on purpose. Showing me your sexy ass like that.” Futakuchi grins, before leaning forwards and trapping you between him and the sofa, kissing your shoulder again. His still damp hair gives you goosebumps. 

“Kenji... I thought we wanted to continue watching our series.” You say a little more quietly now, feeling your body react to his kisses and his touch. 

“Yeah, sure, the series...” mumbles Futakuchi as he moves from your shoulder to your neck, buries his head in the crook of your neck and slides his hands between the sofa and your body, hugging you from behind. “Just let me lie like this for a while,” he sighs contentedly. 

His body lies on top of yours, but he doesn’t press his full weight onto you. You can still breathe. His cool hands on your stomach caress you, his fingertips graze your lower for a moment, and you don’t know what makes your breathing most uneasy. His hands on your body, his body on yours or his breath landing hot on your skin. 

“Ah... Kenji... that’s not the remote that’s between you and me on my butt, is it?” you say as you hear him smirk.

“No baby, you don’t need batteries for this thing to work,” he says mischievously, continuing to rub his pelvis against your ass. A soft moan escapes your lips, Kenji starts kissing your neck, his hand moves up to your breast, the other down between your legs. 

“It’s easier if I turn around- “ you’re about to say, but Futakuchi interrupts you. “But it’s pretty hot like this,” he murmurs, and you feel him rubbing his pelvis harder against you, your own desire growing. With a groan, you lower your head, push your ass upwards and hear Futakuchi murmur. 

“Yeah baby, just like that,” he says, playfully biting your neck before kissing you on the same spot. You both want more. The mood is charged, when you suddenly hear the ringing of your front doorbell. You startle, Futakuchi also briefly considers answering the door. But opening the door with a erection in his shorts wouldn’t be the best idea, anyway. So you both try to ignore it, but the doorbell rings again. 

“Damn!” Futakuchi curses, stands up, pushes the curtains aside slightly and looks out of the living room window. From the living room, you have a good view of the entrance to the front door. His eyes widen and he looks at you. “Oh shit, shit, shit. Go on, say something. Something that really turns me off!” Futakuchi says, almost in a panic. 

You look at him in confusion before sitting up. “Kenji... what’s wrong with you?” you ask, irritated. But Futakuchi seems to be thinking hard about something to get rid of his erection. 

“I forgot that I promised my mum I’d look after my sister for the weekend. The two of them are just outside the front door...” says Futakuchi with a desperate smile. 

“W-what? Kenji! Oh god, open the door, these two can’t stay outside! Or no... wait... you’re not opening the door with that...” you say, pointing at his massive erection. “Go, go into the bathroom and wait there until it’s gone again. And then come to us. I’ll tell your mum and sister that you’re still in the shower,” you say, before straightening your clothes and heading for the door, when Futakuchi comes up to you and hugs you from behind. 

“You’re the best,” he says, kissing your cheek before letting you go. However, he can’t resist giving you a slap on your butt before he leaves. 

[collector-of-sticks]

Howdy,

I’m Stick Collector and I’m mostly here to make friends with other littles and caregivers :))

Quick Facts:

Pronouns: 🩷 She/her/hers 🩷

Country: New Zealand (literally ahead of everyone’s time zones R.I.P.)

Age: 19

Favourite Colour: 🧡 Orange 🧡

Diagnosis: ASD (Autism); Osteogenesis Imperfecta (Brittle Bone Disease) - I have a very mild type (type 1) and live a pretty normal life :D

Interests: Colouring, drawing, music - especially dark LoFi, gardening, Minecraft, Littlest Pet Shops, video games, horror movies, dinosaurs + Jurassic Park, and a ton of other things!

Spirituality: I practice witchcraft (I would never harm anyone or anything for it) - I mostly just meditate and celebrate the sabbats/changing of the seasons. I follow Wiccan beliefs and that means I try my best to connect to the different energies nature has to offer and I believe in a multitude of different practices and deities :))

Feel free to ask questions or message me! Am here to make friends after all :Þ

Important Stuff Under the Cut!

Asks: Anyone is free to send an ask as long as it’s sfw and kind <3

Nicknames: Please use Miss (like a kindergarten teacher) or something similar, if you’re comfortable with it, to interact with my cg side!

(Don’t use mama/mummy/variants as that's reserved for my own little one ^.^).

Any cute nickname (e.g bub, tiny tot, little one) to interact with my small side is awesome :)

Private Messaging: Be over 18 as I am an adult. If you seek friendship just know I can have a very dirty sense of humour at times and swear a lot -I won’t use that sense of humour or swear if you’re small etc- and don’t want to be friends with anyone who won’t be big with me. For me friendships need to work inside and outside of littlespace etc ^_^

Posts: I will end my posts in one of these images below to indicate what headspace I was in ^v^

DNI: I will block anyone who makes me feel uncomfortable or unsafe. This may included, but is not limited to: cross-taggers, sexual accounts, age-play accounts, bullies.

Taken Anons: 🌀, ❄️, 🍴

[museum-spaces]

Almost certainly a silly question but: is it weird to go to museums alone? I'm in my late 20s living in a big city with real museums for the first time. the only time I've ever been to one is on vacation with family as a teen and when visiting a partner in a europe. I don't really know anyone here yet but I really want to see some dinosaur bones and I'm not sure i want to wait around until I've made a friend to go look at them with.

Is it unusual to see an adult alone at a museum? Should I just go? Is it possible to make friends while looking at dinosaur bones? Is there museum etiquette about this? Is there other non-obvious museum etiquette someone who grew up in the wilds of northern Canada might not know???

Anon, no it is not weird at all.

In fact, you could go and make friends there totally either by talking to docents - the workers in the gallery space - or other guests because guess what, you ALL care about dinosaur bones.

Basic museum etiquette is this, and even these vary depending on where you are

Pay to enter - either buy a ticket or make a donation. if it is by donation and you don't have the funds, go in anyway.

match the volume of the museum - if it's quiet keep your voice to a conversational level, if its loud be loud if you want to.

DO NOT TOUCH unless it explicitly says you can touch, then go hog wild.

Do not get into conspiracy arguments even for fun with the staff - we have heard it all.

have fun.

AND THATS IT. Depending on the museum they may even have social meet-up events for young people or classes or lectures that you could attend with meet-and-greets afterwards for social interaction.

If its dinos I can guess at the museum/province. They'll love your enthusiasm even if it is quiet.

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

If the targaryens did exist in the castlevania universe would they be considered just a myth or legend and not real? or would the Belmonts have books on the family and their dragons and maybe even some petrified dragon eggs in the Belmont hold?

Because I can totally imagine sypha going on a passionate rant about "how the targaryens are a myth and metaphor spread by the church to show how evil and hellish magic is. Because clearly it is humanly impossible to have purple eyes and silver or silver gold hair together , be immune to fire and the ability to hatch, raise and control dragons? There is no evidence of dragons ever existing and those alleged dragon eggs in the hold are very obviously just carved stone, Their house words are fire and blood for gods sake they are very clearly just a story and metaphor if they were truly real the speakers would know about it "

Then the next day targ reader pulls up from the sky with her 3 large dragons daenerys styles to see if the Belmont hold really does have so petrified dragon eggs she can bring back to life and hatch, the dragons belong to her family so if there are any eggs they were clearly stolen by the monster hunters family as trophys(like they could ever kill a dragon 🙄) and to try to find a way back to westros and leave this strange world she and her dragon has found themselves in with the knowledge in the hold

That’s a really good question, Anon! 

I think it all depends on how cynical/realistic you want to be in terms of viewing the Castlevania universe and its supernatural/religious properties themselves. Much of the religious/Christian legends in the show are talked down to religion as a joke, just a means of control for the masses meanwhile supernatural elements like angels, devils, and gods are real. (This is classic Warren Ellis so it’s not surprising, but it can be a little reductive.) 

[[A good example of this would be the scene with Isaac facing the evil wizard in Season 3. The wizard’s mind control is symbolized by a glowing green crown of thorns which is a reference to the crown of thorns Jesus was forced to don on the cross as he was mocked by the Roman Soldiers as the ‘king of the tribes of Israel’. They wanted to humiliate him as un-kingly, not believing he was the Messiah. It’s just related enough, but it sort of misses the mark. The crown is interpreted oppositely within the Catholic faith (which seems to be what Ellis truly means to reference whenever the ‘church’ monolith is discussed within the show; Christianity was actually much more diverse across Eastern Europe). It’s a symbol of Jesus’ devotion to humanity: he suffered so humans could have eternal life in heaven. However, in the show, this crown is used backwards: Issac’s newfound devotion to humanity and morality is symbolized by him using his forgemaster blade to BREAK the wizard’s crown of thorns, rather than embrace it as a badge of honor. It’s all flip-floppy.]]

So I think, just off the bat, it’s a balancing act: where do we draw the line between human stupidity (i.e. excuses for cruelty based on superstition) and the actual supernatural (i.e. divine powers beyond reason or understanding, not meant to be in the hands of regular human souls)?

In the Belmont Hold, we see what looks to be a dinosaur skeleton hanging from the ceiling: 

Now this could mean one of two things. 

My guess is, that this was another subtle way to sort of mock or disparage the superstitious beliefs of the masses (while making a in-game reference to The White Dragons). Because, whereas the uneducated simple folk would see the bones and go 'Oh no, monsters!', Belmonts see them and know they’re really just skeletons of ancient animals from before humanity’s time

Alternatively, this is, as you say, a way to clue us in that the Belmonts, being the infamous monster hunters they were, have tracked the myth of dragons, and in doing so battled one successfully, or at the very least, found the remains of one, and collected this fossil as evidence such beasts exist. 

I think YOU NAILED this dynamic with Sypha btw. Because she’s a Speaker, she’s kind of the closest thing an in-universe character has to acting with audience-level insight. She’s aware of the stories, but also of the science- and this has enabled her to walk the line between bs myth perpetuated by the church and actual fire-wielding Speaker magic. 

So let’s say for the sake of our Targaryen Reader Universe- Dragons are real, BUT they’re understood to be a ‘myth’ by the time Adrian, Trevor, and Sypha come along because they’ve since died out/left this mortal plane. 

Trevor insists his family has a record of them existing, and that those petrified “stones” as Sypha calls them are dragon eggs. Sypha doesn’t buy any of this because it just seems overly far-fetched. I mean hell, she’s a Speaker Magician, but do you see her running around with purple eyes and snow-white hair, being totally immune to all fire? No! Just because she can wield it, doesn’t mean it’s not a threat to her. So obviously, these ‘Targaryen people’ must be a metaphor for hubris or flying too close to the sun/God or something. 

Sypha reasons it’s similar to the story of The Tower of Babel (in which she argues God created division amongst human language to prevent human cooperation) but in the case of the Targaryen myth, it’s the Church trying to prevent human progress. 

So when our Targaryen!Reader does show up with her dragons, all fancy like, I imagine Sypha probably speedruns the five stages of grief lol before coming into acceptance. 

It takes a few days, but as she gets to know Reader, Sypha’s disbelief and distrust are replaced by curiosity and kinship. Sypha is fascinated by Reader’s abilities and unique features- she wants to see everything in action for herself. Cue Reader constantly pranking people as she shows off her fire-resistant ability 🤣

[identifying-dinosaurs-in-posts]

Uhm hi. I made this blog on a whim cause I felt like it

Note this blog isn’t limited to just non-avian dinosaurs, I will identify birds, pterosaurs, and other prehistoric animals [including Pleistocene, but I don’t know as much about them. I can also try and identify bones but that’s harder for me too]. Also note I WILL make mistakes, I’m not a professional, paleontology is just a special interest of mine

I might open up submissions later

Anon asks are off because I don’t want stupid anons telling me shit like “birds aren’t dinosaurs” man up and tell it to my face [/j]

[cishetlessfashion]

Androgynous scenecore dinosaur/cambrian era themed polyamorous nonbinary trans man fashion for anon Rainbow mosasaurus skeleton enamel pin Customizable dino tail Dinosaur bone leggings Customizable pride flag stegosaurus earrings Rainbow anomalocaris keychain Love you in dinosaur shirt Wrong generation shirt Polyam flag shark sticker Nonbinary flag kandi cuff Fuck around find out patch

[legobiwan]

For a writing prompt: maybe something with Luigi and polterpup? Or just Luigi and ghosts in general. The fact that ghosts are Real and Present in that world has always been super fascinating and a little upsetting to me haha. Could be as light or as angsty as you wish I just think Luigi being terrified of ghosts and having to (or in polterpup’s case, choosing to) be around them constantly is a fun concept to toy around with.

Apologies this took so long, anon. I vastly underestimated the demands of my travel schedule over the past few weeks. Oof. But now we're back!

Minor TWs in this one for general talk of death, existentialism, and broad references to both animal and child death (nothing graphic, nothing extreme, no on-screen death).

~~~~~~~~~~~

Of Ghosts and the Afterlife (Luigi’s Mansion 1)

Luigi didn’t like to think about death.

Not that there was much he could do about it. Death was as inevitable as a subway car with broken air conditioning on a hundred-degree day.

There was no such thing as the afterlife, Luigi having long ago abandoned the faith his brother and what remained of their family clung to, a practice more cultural than spiritual, steeped in the mores and traditions of a country and people he shared little in common with beyond his last name and an untamable mane of wavy, thick brown hair. 

For Luigi, death was death - game over, end of the line, see you never. A philosophical problem he didn’t enjoy contemplating, but one he could easily shove into a forgotten closet of his subconscious, the more pressing concerns of his daily life taking up his mental energies, banal things like scraping up enough plumbing jobs to pay the rent, dealing with corroded spark plugs in the repair van, and being forced make a meal of the questionable meatball subs from the corner bodega.

Death was death. Religion was religion. And ghosts were…a fairytale, a folklore conjured to rationalize away the heavy weight of existential dread. That, or something used as a cudgel, to keep people on the side of moral righteousness, lest they be doomed to walk the earth for all eternity in the shadows of existence.

Ghosts were a thought experiment. A fun diversion in a cramped Bensonhurst studio, the heating bill long unpaid, he and his brother buried under a set of fraying blankets, their father’s hefty industrial flashlight in hand, competing to see who could scare the other the most as the D Train rattled its metal bones past their window at two in the morning.

Mario was good at stories. (Mario was good at everything). And it wasn’t that Luigi was afraid of the spirits his brother would describe in gruesome detail, the way they’d seep through cracks and keyholes, wrapping their grey, misty arms around skinny, lost children who kept too many secrets. No. He couldn’t be afraid because ghosts weren’t real.

Not until he had been unceremoniously dumped into the Mushroom Kingdom, that was. 

He could deal with the existence of Boos. Well, that wasn’t entirely true, but he could at least assign them a category outside the paranormal. Boos were just another strange species, a bunch of floating marshmallows that looked like ghosts and acted like ghosts, but in no way were actual ghosts. Boos were something real, something alive, but beyond Earth’s limited taxonomies, just like everything else in this impossible world of talking mushrooms and tyrant turtles and evil wizards and booted dinosaurs and a million-and-one things that could leap out with fangs or fire or spikes and kill you at any moment - 

Death, he had once nervously told his brother over a campfire on the outskirts of Toad Town, felt like it had become a way of life. 

The letter had arrived on a crisp autumn morning, the early sunlight peeking through the gaps of Luigi’s drawn curtains. He remembered thinking it was a clean kind of light, unsullied by the drudgery of heavy coats and thick scarves, of greying slush and oily puddles pooling in the gutter, cigarette butts bobbing up and down like the stained buoys off Brighton Beach. Life had been, if not normal (he didn’t think he’d ever consider his existence in the Mushroom Kingdom normal), at least less chaotic than usual. There had been no invasions, no kidnappings, no pleas from neighboring kingdoms for help. For the first time in a long time, his daily routine was…pedestrian. A little boring, even. It was a nice change of pace.

He should have known better. Did know better. 

No one gave away mansions.

Yeah, and I’m sure they also have a bridge in Brooklyn they’d like to sell me he had muttered, crumpling up the notice, tossing it into a dented, mushroom-shaped garbage pail without another look as he groped for a gurgling coffee pot.

Three days later, a short, wiry old man was thrusting a souped-up vacuum into his hands, blathering all kinds of nonsensical instructions about ectoplasm and strobe lights and hearts and all that Luigi could think through the high-pitched static descending on onto his brain is that my brother is in danger and holy shit this entire mansion is filled with actual, real ghosts.

There was no time to wrap his head around the metaphysics of it all, the very real danger of being killed by an entire army of irate specters overriding any considerations as to the how or why of the entire situation. Ghosts apparently existed, not only as Boos, but as colorful, globulous forms, as cantankerous old knitting women, as mechanical, murderous toy soldiers, and worst of all, as small children and even screaming babies, the terrible implications of which rattled around Luigi’s already frenzied consciousness as he sucked the heart from a wailing infant, in all likelihood murdering it a second time. (A hazy memory had surfaced, a small, doll-like figure laid on a cheap, linoleum kitchen table, legs unstable as a small cadre of extended relatives wept and laid kisses on the child’s forehead. Forty and eight hour, their great-grandmother had commanded in broken English. To be sure the true dead. Spirito.)

It had been less than twenty-four hours, he reminded himself. Mario wasn’t dead. Or undead. Or whatever. Not according to tradition, and certainly not according to Luigi’s empirical observations (which seemed to be holding less and less weight as the paranormal evening drew on). No, he had seen his brother through the marble fangs of the dragon’s head. He was in the painting, banging for his life against an invisible prison of oils and canvas, his mouth open in a silent scream.

A victim of magic, but not a ghost.

Not if Luigi had anything to say about it.

He ran. Up broken, splintering sets of stairs; down dimly-lit corridors with threadbare rugging; through trap doors and flocks of toothy, golden bats, vacuum hose at the ready, sucking away at anything even resembling a ghost (how many curtains, how many dresses and bedsheets had he whisked into shreds all because of the ripple of a breeze or a trick of the light?)

He fought his way through chamber after chamber, slurping phantasms from earthly existence, unwilling to consider just what he’s damning his enemies to, if he’s killing them again, if they can feel pain or remorse, if this whole situation is maybe a figment of his imagination and in reality he’s back in Brooklyn, or worse, committed to a padded cell in Bellevue, colorful apparitions dancing on blank, white walls, the evidence of a broken mind. 

He found his brother’s portrait hung in a baroque, gilded antechamber, the room something as alien as the specters he had been fighting, his grimy boots sinking into blood-red, lush carpeting as gems and pearls and other precious-looking stones twinkled in the light of a silver candelabra. 

The keeper of Mario’s canvas prison turned to greet him, a gargantuan Boo with a jeweled crown named “King Boo” - an uninspired moniker if there ever was one - who pontificated at length, swearing vengeance on both Mario and Luigi, demanding reparations in blood and soul for crimes Luigi couldn’t even begin to understand, no less remember. 

Did I kill him? Luigi had panicked, rooted to the spot, Poltergust in hand as the Boo continued his long-winded diatribe. Is that why he’s a ghost? Did Mario do something? Luigi tried not to think too hard about the ethical dilemmas of their adventures, of their roles as protectors of the Mushroom Kingdom. Sure, people got hurt, that was the nature of the beast, but…

It didn’t matter, not when King Boo conjured a several-story tall likeness of Bowser, whisking Luigi through a portal to the stark rooftop of the dilapidated mansion to engage in a twisted game of cat-and-mouse (ghost-and-plumber), the giant Koopa puppet doing its best to stomp Luigi into a fiery, broken heap of ashes.

He escaped with his life. That, and the promise of retribution from beyond the grave, King Boo spitting all forms of vile epithets and visions of eternal pain as Luigi sucked the last of his bulbous form into the squealing, smoking Poltergust. 

When Mario was spat from E. Gadd’s printing machine, tumbling across the floor in a confused pile of limbs - his brother, real, corporal and definitely not dead - Luigi didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. 

He never wanted to see - never wanted to think about another ghost again in his life.

Of Dogs (Luigi’s Mansion 2)

He supposed it made sense. In a way.

After all, if there were Boos, if there were ghost adults and ghost children and ghost babies - there were bound to be ghost dogs. Maybe ghost cats, as well. Hell, maybe an entire ghost civilization living (dying?) in tandem with his own flesh-and-blood world. 

He hated the idea. It trampled on every tenet of thermodynamics he had carved into his brain at the age of ten, made a mockery of the physics and chemistry and engineering that had carried him through adolescence and into adult life.

The Mushroom Kingdom - that was something he had at least managed to rationalize, had begun to construct a loose schematic for, notebooks upon notebooks filled with messy diagrams and rambling equations, an inadequate translation to his Earth-bound science, but one that allowed him to find some kind of solid footing in this incomprehensible new dimension.

Ghosts did not fit into his neatly constructed template. 

Least of all, ghost dogs.

Of course, the dog had to eat the key and run away, leading Luigi on a wild goose chase (he dearly hoped there was no such thing as ghost geese). He ran pellmell through gardens, through labs, through a series of mansions and other haun - 

Other decidedly creepy spots in the Evershade Valley. Places where he was left to battle groups of angry, globulous…shadows. Specters. Phantoms. Spirits. Poltergeists.

Ghosts. 

Again. 

He would have been angry if he weren’t so terrified. 

The dog, as much trouble as he was (He? She? Did it matter?) had at least not fallen under the spell of the Dark Moon, making him the Least Frightening Ghost of this particular run-in with the ethereal undead and King Boo.

And Luigi could almost get himself to…well…maybe not like him, but tolerate him. Even though the dog ate his keys, left messy trails of crumbs and soggy, half-eaten baguettes, slobbered all over Luigi’s pants, and managed at least once to urinate in a public fountain, a phenomenon Luigi would be puzzling over for months after the fact.

Best of all, the dog, unlike almost everyone else here, wasn’t bent on killing him. 

He was just a normal dog.

Who happened to be a ghost. 

Luigi wondered if he had had a family in life. Children to grow up with. A big house with a yard. He acted more like a puppy than an adult dog, his exuberant chaos reminiscent of the little Golden Retriever pup his second cousins had gotten when their family moved out to the Island. Oyster Bay, he remembers, real fancy stuff. Sal and Tony’s house had had trees. A garage. Separate bedrooms. He and Mario had begged for a dog for weeks after visiting, shuffling furniture around their tiny-windowed room, marking out places in purple chalk for the dog’s water bowl, his kibble, his toys.

Their father had grunted at the proposal, noting the two brothers would have to sleep in the same bed to make the space for their imaginary new pet. This ain’t no place for a dog, you two. You want animals, get a job with the pound. What, you’re still going to beg? Santa Maria. You two share that bed for a week without beating each other up and then come back to me. But I don’t like the odds. You boys haven’t shared a bed since you were seven. Five’ll get you ten you last forty-eight hours before someone’s fist is in the other one's face. 

They lasted three whole days before Luigi had planted his foot in Mario’s kidneys at two in the morning.

They never saw the dog in Oyster Bay again.

A car accident, real unfortunate stuff, Aunt Maria had told them later.

The memory haunted Luigi as he unholstered the Poltergust, forcing his fingers to twist dials and push at levers. He needed that key. It wasn’t just his life on the line if he failed. 

He squeezed his eyes shut as he sucked the ghost dog into the machine, trying his absolute best to ignore the little whines and terrified yips of the struggling not-animal. After what felt like an eternity, he heard the tell-tale “pop” of the Poltergust, signaling his success in capturing yet another ghost, the silver key clanging to the cobble-stoned ground.

Luigi had never felt less heroic in his life.

I just think he wanted someone to play with, E. Gadd had commented offhandedly later, emptying the Poltergust's canister into the gigantic silver ghost vault with his usual detached efficiency, oblivious to the way Luigi's features had paled at the comment.

When he got word of the dog’s escape a few hours later, Luigi didn’t even try to deny his relief.

Of Half-Lives and Vengeance (Luigi’s Mansion 3)

Fatigue. Carelessness. Hubris. Naivete. 

Or maybe it had just been sheer stupidity.

An invitation to vacation at an exclusive, luxury hotel, addressed to him. 

Nice things never happened to Luigi. Or if they did, he could hardly enjoy them, waiting on tenterhooks for the other boot to fall.

The boot fell that evening. It was ghosts. Of course, it was. Nearly twenty floors of ghosts. At this point, he could say he was almost used to it, the creeping shiver up his spine, the gluey residue of ectoplasm which would leave him tattooed with ugly, mottled rashes for weeks on end.

Once again, he had to act as a one-man army against the mass of spectral, malevolent will. Once again, his brother had been trapped in a painting.

There were differences, of course. Polterpup was by his side, the ethereal puppy proving more loyal to Luigi than his fellow spirits. (Luigi could never say Polterpup was "his" in the way most pet owners would lay claim to a regular cat or dog. The ghost puppy had a disturbing tendency to disappear for weeks, sometimes months on end, only to make his return in the most startling manner possible, more than once sending Luigi screaming, flailing off his bed at some weird, inconvenient hour of the night. But for as much as Polterpup could have a "home" - Luigi's house was it).

Luigi also had the help of his pseudo-clone, Gooigi, a horrifying creation of E. Gadd's, an unholy combination of ghostly discharge (the nature of which Luigi did not want to know), coffee, and, Luigi's own biological samples. An impossible being with whom he shared an inexplicable telepathic connection, and if Luigi had had any semblance of a minute to consider what that all meant (was he part ghost now? Could Gooigi outlive him? Would he maintain that consciousness after death?) he would have likely run screeching into the night.

(The fact Gooigi had proven essential to his continued existence did not distract from the wildly dubious ethics behind Gooigi's creation, an issue Luigi was definitely going to have a long talk with E. Gadd about at some point. If he could manage to broach the topic without falling into a breathless panic).

But the most striking aspect of his third encounter with King Boo and his minions, something that wriggled at the base of Luigi's cerebellum as he fought floor upon gimmicky floor the largest array of ghouls he encountered yet, was the element of premeditation.

King Boo had easily disposed of Mario, the Princess, and the Toads during their first midnight encounter. Sure, Luigi had escaped down a laundry chute, chest heaving as he toppled onto a pile of dirty towels. But that shouldn't have posed an issue for this crazed version of King Boo, a being who could literally phase through walls.

Luigi should have been dead, or worse than dead, ten times over.

No, King Boo had decided to wait. To draw out the deep, sustained hum of terror far beyond its final breath.

Security cameras were posted everywhere in the hotel. Luigi had no doubt the ghostly tyrant was following his every move, watching, salivating as he fought and struggled against Egyptian gods and malevolent Mozarts, and bearded, Bayou beasts. (Were these the literal souls of the departed? Was Mozart truly in these walls? Or was this like a ghost Halloween, a once-in-a-deathtime opportunity to fulfill that longing urge to finally be someone who you will never be?)

(He remembers being six years old. Remembers dressing as his brother for Halloween, Luigi stealing Mario's iconic red t-shirt, his parents pleading with him to go as anything else - a spider, a rat, a baseball player - Luigi refusing each entreaty. The other boys aren't going to like it, Luigi, his mother had said, consonants slurring. You're going to get the snot pounded out of you, Dad had added a beat later).

(In the end, he had thrown an old floral bedsheet over his head, not even bothering to cut out eyeholes. I'm a ghost! Luigi had boasted. You're a loser, Vinny Malanga had laughed).

And worst part of it was, Luigi knew it. Knew he could turn any corner, go down any dark hallway and be met with that signature violet gemstone, that bladed, fanged smile ready to slam an empty frame down on his head and trap him for all eternity in oil and canvas. 

Death waited in every shadow.

And King Boo was going to enjoy every minute of it.

Of Death (Epilogue)

Luigi thought he knew death. After three, separate encounters with buildings chock full of the undead, after countless hours spent in the company of the best paranormal researcher he knew (the only one he knew, admittedly), after providing part-time shelter for a genuine ghost puppy, after meeting his half-undead clone - Luigi considered himself, if not comfortable, at least conversant in the hows and whys of the afterlife. 

One day, he tried to stop a wedding between a princess and a monster.

Death, he would learn, was only the beginning.

[silversdragonemporium]

Post Silver Snow in which Dimitri survived… They are doing their best to reconstruct everything that was destroyed in the war and both are plagued with survivor guilt.

Byleth took Dimitri as her prince consort for political reasons. Faerghus is happy he survived and his blood will go on into the new royal family.

They are now trying to have her first heir but both are falling apart at the seams because they are dumbasses who cannot communicate and are trying to pretend the almost every day baby making is for Fodlan when they are stupidly in love and way too horny about each other to properly function in society.

Also they are actively falling in love with each other even more every day now that they live together and actively participate in projects and ideas for reconstruction that made them see the other with the same feeling of hope, love and wonder of a 4 year old who just discovered his first favorite dinosaur.  

Silver Snow can be hopeful if you squint really hard and lowkey forget how to read….

Yeah - I am still in denial and crying.

Anon I’m so sorry I didn’t respond right away! I wanted to give it a proper response… And then I goldfish-brain’d with it. But I’m back and ready to answer!

Honestly, having him just appear out of NOWHERE in SS is so sad… and unexpected! Sure, we rescue Claude in AM and Edie has the “I wanted to walk with you :(“ scene in VW which is just straight up lifted from SS but let’s not think too much about it but Dimitri is the only one that we got told “he super died” and then we see him. It’s so odd, and so interesting… but really freaking sad.

SO ANYWAY yes, I can see Byleth, new divine monarch of the entire continent, taking up a spouse with a claim over part of the territory. It helps de-ruffle the feathers of the nobility by giving more legitimacy to her line. So on paper, it sounds great!

However, I can see how much they both could struggle with intimacy once married. (Like. Emotional intimacy, they absolutely do not struggle to get to the actual boning.). Pre-Gronder Dimitri’s problems with intimacy are pretty obvious (bucketloads of survivor’s guilt, complicated grief, hallucinations, his maternal figure was emotionally distant, etc.) but Byleth has the combo-wombo of “my class leader was in cahoots with the jerks that killed my dad and I didn’t notice until it was too late”, “I had to kill my class leader with my own hands”, “I had to kill the person that gave me a home because she went berserk-dragon-mode” and “to me, my father died like a year ago”.

I’m not necessarily saying that Byleth would revert back to “Ashen Demon :^|” mode, but I can see how she would at first try to approach the marriage as a purely practical arrangement(which it started as) but then feel guilty that she might’ve kinda-sorta indirectly strong-armed Dimitri into becoming her spouse? Since, she is the savior of Fódlan and that title does carry some clout, especially when compared to Dimitri who has no mayor military accomplishments in the war under his belt apart from almost getting killed om the 3-way battle that was Gronder Field.

On the other hand, when Dimitri is in a bad place mentally we already know that he just shuts everybody else out and only listens to what his ghosts say. So you can imagine what the disembodied chorus of ghosts have to say about the arrangement and how it would feed into the “has no right to happiness” feeling he seems to fall back on (aka the kind of thinking that’d make a dude say “yeah I’ll be happy when I die and my subjects are happy” with no irony at all).

They could start off in “super denial” mode, then having the “oh no I like-like them” and stopping by the “it’s foolish to assume that the other like-likes me” spot before reaching, “I will do anything for their happiness so I’ll support their pet reconstruction projects to make them happy”-ville before finally arriving to “wait they like-like me too!?!!?!” destination.

Thank you so much for the ask, Nonnie! Sorry again for taking so long, but better late than never, eh?

[myshredda]

i think alot about the shredding of the book as allegory. allegory for the fans who want clean answers and consistent continuity. for the idea of dogma that comes with a "book of perfect truths" but then building on that last point with how the entire theme is about "education" and less of what your learning about and more HOW your learning about it. the webseries was very vague and really felt as all budding online art should as throwing things at the wall and waiting for things to stick before cementing those things into cannon and REALLY diving deep. so in going back to the book and why it felt like in retrospect -for me- a statement more then another cruel joke for yellow to suffer, i think of that moment as embracing the art of fan speculation, and the arguments you can get and how that process is so important to learning- more then route memorization of someone else's research/opinions/outlook/dogma can ever show you.

🦖🦴

no EXACTLY I think DHMIS as a show is one that's supposed to be very open ended, like the type of show that will never give you all the answers for little weird moments or even the big weird moments. It's so lose with its structure (in the tv show especially) and the main characters minds are seemingly wiped from day to to day to the point that they don't remember teachers dead on their kitchen floor or even the names of the people they live with!

I highly doubt that Becky and Joe would have made something like the book that Lesley gives Yellow and really have it be filled with all the 'answers' that the characters (or the fans) are looking for! That's why I hate the MatPat style theory videos where everything is taken incredibly literally and they attempt to lay things out in a very linear/binary/realistic way that makes sense to them. And like. That is NOT what DHMIS is at ALL. I think DHMIS is a show about themes, and weird puppets, and british humor, and whatever Becky and Joe and Baker thinks is interesting or cool or reminds them of shows they watched as a child.

The book wasn't going to 'save' them I don't think, just like Yellow's batteries couldn't save him or being able to drive away couldn't save them. It's a metaphor inside a riddle inside a joke inside a bit of commentary about children's media. I doubt we'll ever 'figure out' exactly what the intentions of the creators because they've gone on record saying that "Every fan theory is correct" so there's no reason to try to nail down a concrete storyline because there ISN'T one!!!

[is-the-owl-video-cute]

I saw another person comment and they're right, this blog (the dino bird one) is notorious for bad takes and attacking anyone who isn't fully aware of every very specific bird fact or dinosaur fact. They compared a scientist on here who made a mistake about tuataras to a right ringer young earth creationist, they sat and attacked another user for calling out how problematic they are then only apologized when they got anon hate for it (they claimed that wasn't why they apologized but it seemed that way since they never said sorry to any of the other people they've lost their shit at) so yeah good luck w them, their latest bird takes and comparing people being against owning wild birds to racism is wild, but considering they compared people who enjoy jurassic park dinosaurs to parents that are anti Vax, that's the lesser of their insane analogies thus far. They also called various people that were not climate deiners, climate deiners for..you guessed it. Not being aware birds are dinosaurs.

This sort of thing is why I distance myself from a lot of the paleontology community. I feel like there’s a weirdly high number of people who are very conceited and weirdly defensive if your interpretation of animals that haven’t existed for over 65 million years is different than theirs and they also get weirdly angry if you like the designs of dinosaurs imagined from older models and treat it as a personal insult for whatever reason.

So folks I’ll say it here: if you think dilophosaurus looks cool spitting venom and having a huge frill and want to draw that, that’s okay! If you think featherless velociraptors are fun to look at and like to collect figures that aren’t accurate to the current science, that’s okay! You aren’t hurting anyone by liking Jurassic Park dinosaurs. You aren’t even hurting anyone by liking fake dinosaurs in Jurassic world! A lot of what we know about dinosaurs is speculative because for so many species the only fossils we’ve found are like a piece of a claw or a tail bone. Yes scientists are discovering new things at a rapid rate and that’s exciting, but claiming people enjoying now debunked theories on what dinosaurs were like are doing as much harm as antivax is just unhinged. Making an oviraptor character that eats eggs because you think that’s fun isn’t going to reintroduce measles to anyone.

[a-dinosaur-a-day]

I'm VERY new to learning about dinosaurs so please forgive me for probably not using the correct terminology (I couldn't find the post you made/reblogged that clarified which worda to use when), but IRT the previous Halloween anon, do you have any spooky facts about extinct, non-avian dinosaurs? (Idk the right terms to get more specific but I'm thinking of the kind people generally think of when they think "dinosaurs" that have been popularized in media, like Jurassic Park-style dinos.) Birds/living dinos are super cool but I'm personally really interested in the older kind- I believe I got "antiquarian" for your taste in dinos uquiz, haha.

The problem with the Extremely Dead is that we don't know much about them

I know tons of facts about Non-Avialan dinosaurs. Tons. None that I would call "spooky".

Frankly, isn't the fact that they are so dead their bones have been transformed into rocks spooky enough?

[transgenderer]

tbh i think it’s entirely fair to treat dinosaur as monophyletic and monkey as paraphyletic. Because the distinction is morphological, it’s just easier to distinguish the monkeys from the apes than the dinosaurs from the birds since all of the former are extant (well, the ones we typically talk about, at least), while from the latter all of the non-avians are extinct, so it’s just less clear on how to simply divide them based on physical features from bones (and a few feather/skin impressions) alone. Also taxonomy is anthropocentric, it’s at least as much about distinguishing us from other living things than about gaining objective knowledge, so giving our own clade special attention makes sense.

also sorry for saying this all on anon, my only remaining tumblr blog is a pretty classless porn one, so I just feel like anon grants me a greater veneer of respectability in these parts.

hmm. i guess but im mostly posting this cuz i like that note at the end

[xamaxenta]

Tacking ideas on to the last anon of omega ace fending off garps bad ideas. The high ranking alpha garp chooses is one x drake (garp chose him in part hoping the draw of cool dinosaur would help sooth aces resistance to being mates to a stuffy boring marine) and Marco and sabo are irate at this guy they never met before and slink away to beat the shit outta him so he never thinks of Ace again.

Trick is poor x drake had no idea garp volunteered him as a potential husband to his grandson and has no clue why these crazy assholes are attacking him. Drake isn’t even interested but these nut jobs won’t believe him and keep jumping him at random and the broken bones are seriously piling up. Eventually Marco and sabo lay off but poor x drake has a phobia of birds and metal pipes for awhile

This is SO MEAN WHAT DID DRAKE DO TO YOU ANON 😭😂😂😂😂😂😂

i was gonna kekw and offer like. A really funny choice

Which is Koby

[tf2-crew-mailbox]

To spy, or the whole team if they are interested.

Remember how I said a while ago I was interested/knowledgeable/working with dinosaurs. Well today I got to go on a guided dig at dinosaurs park. It was awesome so many things in the small little area we looked. It always amazes me how much stuff you find out in the reserve. Do you or is any of the team interested in dinosaurs I could talk about them for hours.

Anyways here’s 2 toe bones I found one much bigger than the other. Belonging to a different species

Also thanks for letting me talk to you it’s nice to have a supportive adult male in my life

Cheers ~not so anon raptors

Ah, of course I remember. It’s wonderful to hear that you are continuing to have fun exploring your interests. It’s also wonderful to see you making such achievements. I’m very proud. You should be proud of yourself as well.

As for me, I’m not sure I’m very aware of dinosaurs or their history. Although, of course, I would listen if you wished to share anything about them. Like the photos you’ve sent, for example. That is quite fascinating. It certainly puts into perspective just how enormous these creatures were. Pyro would also be more than willing to have a dinosaur discussion with you. They love animals of every kind. Even the freakish ones. Or especially, I should say.

I’m not sure how true it is to say that I am a good figure to look up to, but I am honored to hear you see me in that way regardless. My only wish is to continue being there for you.