#moderator floppy

[trenchgardens-ooc-ooc-ooc-ooc]

[fisheito]

cool hat

[annaswrites00]

Soaked In Love... and suds

CL16 x gf!reader

Summary - You and Charles give Leo a bath... warning - none, super wholesome fluff

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The scent of warm lavender floated through the bathroom, swirling with the steam rising from the tub. Leo stood stubbornly on the bath mat, looking at the water like it was about to swallow him whole.

Charles crouched beside him, sleeves pushed up, his curls damp already from Leo’s chaotic splashing attempts. He gave you a helpless, amused look over his shoulder.

"I swear he knows what’s coming," Charles said, lips twitching with a barely-contained smile. "He’s plotting."

You laughed, stepping closer. "He's not plotting. He's dramatic. Like someone else I know."

Charles raised an eyebrow. "Are you talking about me or yourself, mon cœur?"

Before you could retort, Leo made a dash for it — tiny paws scrambling — and Charles scooped him up mid-escape, holding him against his chest.

You melted a little at the sight: Charles in soft gray sweatpants and a fitted white T-shirt, cradling your tiny, wiggling dachshund like he was something precious.

"Come on, Leo. It’s just a bath," you cooed, reaching out to stroke his silky ears. "You'll smell so nice afterward."

Reluctantly, Charles lowered him into the warm water. Leo stiffened for a second, then whined pathetically, making both of you laugh.

You grabbed the shampoo and lathered a small amount in your palms. "Hold him still."

Charles cupped Leo’s slippery little body gently, murmuring something soft in French that sounded suspiciously like bribery. You bent over, carefully massaging the shampoo into Leo’s short fur.

The moment you finished massaging shampoo into Leo’s fur, Charles gave you a teasing grin. "You know," he said with a glint in his eyes, "he’s a very enthusiastic little bather."

You laughed, shaking your head as you reached for the rinse cup. "Oh, I know. He gets it from you."

Charles’s smile widened, clearly enjoying the banter. "Ah, so now I’m the problem?"

Before you could respond, Leo, ever the troublemaker, gave an exaggerated shake of his little body, sending water splashing out of the tub in all directions. You didn’t even have time to react before a large droplet of water hit you right in the chest.

You blinked, staring down at the water pooling on your shirt, before looking up at Charles, who was now fighting back laughter.

"Really?" you asked, barely able to contain your own giggle. "Did you just let him do that?"

Charles raised his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, I have no control over him. He’s the boss here."

Leo, seeming proud of his little rebellion, gave an even more dramatic shake, this time aiming straight for Charles’s face. He froze, mid-laugh, as water splashed over his hair and the front of his shirt.

You burst into laughter, unable to hold it back any longer. "I think he’s the boss now."

Leo gave a dramatic huff, making you both laugh even harder.

You worked carefully, cleaning behind his floppy ears and between his tiny toes, while Charles kept a firm but tender hold on him. Every now and then, Charles’s fingers brushed yours underwater — a brief, electric touch that made your heart skip.

When you finally deemed Leo clean, Charles fetched a towel, wrapping him like a burrito and lifting him out of the tub. Leo's tail wagged furiously under the towel as Charles rubbed him dry, his movements gentle but playful.

"Voilà," Charles said, proudly presenting the damp, disgruntled puppy to you like a trophy. "Clean and only moderately furious."

You reached out, taking Leo from him, feeling the deep warmth of Charles’s body lingering in the towel. "Poor baby," you whispered to Leo, cuddling him close. "We’re so mean, huh?"

Leo immediately began licking your chin in forgiveness.

Charles leaned in, brushing a wet strand of hair behind your ear. "You're very good with him."

You looked up, caught off-guard by the softness in his voice.

"So are you," you said, voice equally quiet.

The air shifted — like something unseen but tangible tugged between you.

You both stood there for a moment, barely a breath apart, Leo wiggling between you. Charles’s hand lingered at your waist, his fingers warm against your skin through the thin cotton of your shirt.

You cleared your throat. "Let's dry him off properly."

Charles smiled, a little crooked, like he knew exactly what you were doing — buying time.

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Thanks for reading!!

🐶ྀི🐶ྀི🐶ྀི🐶ྀི

[max1461]

Thinking about this post. "The only way to make a cell is from another cell" is somewhat of a troubling fact to me. I mean, not for any practical reason, just because it underscores the precarity of *gestures broadly*.

It's like, some people talk about trying to de-extinct the mammoth. And people are trying to sequence the genome of the mammoth, I don't know if they've done it yet. But even if they do, one of the problems with the idea of de-extinction is... to grow a baby mammoth, you need another mammoth! Last time I heard people talking about this, I think they were talking about using an elephant as a surrogate mother. But imagine if elephants were extinct too.

The point is that information is often tied to the systems that transmit it; even if you know everything in the mammoth genome, once all the mammoths are gone there's nothing capable of reading and using that information. Like when you can't read the data on a perfectly good floppy disk because your computer doesn't have a floppy drive.

This is related to why language death troubles me so much. Even the most well-documented languages aren't actually that well understood; linguists have produced more pages of work on English syntax than maybe any other specific descriptive topic and yet still the only reliable way to get the answer to any moderately subtle syntactic question is elicit native speaker data. We know almost nothing, we can barely extrapolate at all! And every language is like this, a hugely complex system that we know basically nothing about, and if the chain of native speaker transmission is ever broken it's just gone.

"Language revival", I mean from a totally dead language, is kind of a myth. It's like the "came back different" trope. In Israel they revived Hebrew, but Modern Hebrew is really not the same thing as Biblical Hebrew at all. I mean in a stronger sense even than Modern English isn't Old English. All the subtleties of Biblical Hebrew that a native speaker would have had implicit competence with died without a trace. All they left is a grainy image, the texts. The first generation of Modern Hebrew speakers took the rough grammatical sketch preserved in these texts and imbued it with new subtleties, borrowed from Slavic and Germanic and the speakers' other native languages, or converged at by consensus among that first generation of children. There's nothing wrong with that, but it would be inaccurate to imagine Biblical Hebrew surviving in Modern Hebrew the way Old English survives in Modern English. For instance, you can discover a great deal that you didn't know about Old English by comparing Modern English dialects. There is nothing you can discover about Biblical Hebrew by comparing Modern Hebrew dialects in this way.

There's nothing wrong with this, of course. I'm not like, judging Modern Hebrew. I'm just making a point.

Mammoths died recently, so we still have (some of?) their genome. Something that died longer ago, like dinosaurs, we have traces of them in the form of fossils but we could never hope to revive them, the information is just gone. Even if we're not aiming for revival, even if we just want to know stuff about dinosaurs, there's so much that we will never know and can never know.

We imagine information as the kind of thing which sits in an archive, because this is the context most of us encounter information in, I think. Libraries, hard drives. Well obviously hard drives don't last. And most ancient texts only survive because of a scribal tradition, continuous re-writing, not because of actual archival. So I think that imagining archives as the natural habitat of information is sort of wrong; the natural habit of information is in continuous transmission. Information is constantly moving. And it's like one of those sharks, if it ever stops moving it drowns. And if the lines of transmission are broken, the information is gone and can never be retrieved.

Very precarious.

[moonflower-rose]

May Prompt Thingy!

Part 6 - Floral

Pansy Parkinson dresses like she's personally trying to dismantle the statute of secrecy. But somehow, with enough money, dressing exactly like a wizard in Muggle public really just makes you seem like you're stupidly rich. And she is (definitely rich and a bit stupid, which Harry feels just a tiny bit bad for thinking even in the privacy of his own thoughts).

She's got actual pyjama bottoms on, satiny floral flowy ones with a visible tag from Primark on the leg. And then a vest that looks like she's nicked it off the washing line from a local farmer but which Gin's admiringly said is actually Gucci, and Harry doesn't even know where to start with all that. What does Ginny know about Gucci, and why is she looking at Parkinson like that? Parkinson who hasn't seen fit to wear a bra under her coal miners vest and who has an insane pair of platform boots on with her shiny, beflowered sleepwear. Like, how is she upright without magical scaffolding for her ankles or something?

"So what was this all about again?"

Malfoy rolls his eyes at her but he does it in a way that anyone with functioning vision (or prescription specs for light to moderate myopia) can see is pure affection.

"It's one of our little perks for being tops in the department, the reward and recognition program. I've told you about seven times, Pans, do you actually retain anything or is it unable to penetrate the hat?"

Right, Parkinson also has on the biggest hat Harry's ever seen, a humongous wide brimmed floppy black thing that she refused to take off even in the pub, at well after nine at night. It’s got Audrey Hepburn proportions, and it’s weird that Harry knows who that is actually but he’s acquired a lot of strange knowledge since becoming chummy with Draco Malfoy.

"We've got our certificate up on the wall at the office and now we're making our way through the drinks voucher."

"We've made our way through that already and now we're into a healthy bar tab." Ron's draining a pint and looks like he might chance another if Hermione allows it. She's on her fourth glass of party petrol, so she just might.

"I'll cover the tab tonight, darlings. So proud of you Draco, making Magical Law Enforcement your bitch. How, specifically, did you do that? Short version please my duck."

Malfoy pretends to be wounded (a long-standing talent of his). “Do you doubt our prowess as a crime fighting team? Are you suggesting I may not be the prodigy of charms and transfiguration that the establishment is constantly affirming me to be? I’m first name on the plaque, you know.”

“Firstly, it’s a certificate not a plaque, you self-aggrandising wanker.”

Malfoy has his finger up the second Ron starts to speak. “Oh ho, ‘self-aggrandising’, someone’s been getting lessons from wifey.”

“Secondly, your name is only first because it’s in alphabetical order-”

“D’you think one day they’ll actually punch each other?” Ginny asks in a low voice, and Harry tilts his head to the side and remembers dozens of arguments and fingers thrust in faces, and shoulder checks in doorways.

“Nah. This is pretty much recreational now.”

“And thirdly I think she’s understandably curious as to how we could be such a high performing team considering two of you are as thick as shit.”

“So fucking thick,” Ginny adds and Harry turns to her again with a frown.

“Oi, what do you mean thick?”

“It’s a colloquialism Potter, referring to a person who’s rather built in the lower regions.” Malfoy must have had a bit much to drink because he’s suddenly got a mighty wine flush and he’s clamping his lips together like he’s trying not to spill state secrets.

“Who, Ron?”

“Oh Salazar, he really is fucking thick.” Parkinson rolls her eyes like she can’t quite believe how thick. “Thank you for the linguistics lesson darling but I actually meant very stupid, not…beefy.”

“Hey!” Harry’s honestly not following but he’s always been able to tell when he’s being insulted and it’s definitely coming from all sides at the moment.

Parkinson sips her scary-looking cocktail and bats her lashes at Malfoy. “Darling have you been brewing amortentia again? You’ve gone terribly pink.”

“Everyone knows Potter does the brewing you shrew, he’s tops at potions.”

Harry feels a flush rampant across his whole entire face and he hardly has enough space in him to have another mouthful of his lager.

Ron sighs. “Fucking thick as shit I’m telling you, it’s a wonder we’re not killed daily.”

Prompt List

Part 1 - Key

Part 2 - Black

Part 3 - Coffee

Part 4 - Pathetic

Part 5 - Hang

[littlehungrywarriorcats]

Kind of strange but if someone was making up a genetics system for a fictional animal, what would you suggest to include?

I've noticed that similar effects tend to pop up a lot (turn black into brown, make the color paler, add white markings) is there a reason for that?

Oh i LOVE coming up w/genetics systems for fictional animals!! I could talk about it all day, feel free to hit up my DMs for more than I could put in an ask lol.

This is already going to be extremely long.

bc you hit my expertise dead-on.......... 😎

(bear in mind that my specialty is mammals)

1. domestication syndrome traits

The most common cited reason for certain traits to come up in domestic animals is domestication syndrome. I'll detail below how it works according to the theories I learnt in college, but some recent studies are re-examining this explanation & its alternatives.

A lot of the common traits we see in domestic animals result from domestication syndrome! essentially, certain mutations already hiding in the genome (or that pop up during the lengthy domestication process) benefit fitness in the context of domestication.

(in simpler words, animal expressing Example Gene doesn't reproduce very successfully in the wild, but does reproduce successfully in captivity, because of Example Gene)

These genes are things like...smaller adrenal glands to make fear/aggression less intense, smaller teeth, etc. Things that would normally be invisible or near-invisible.............if not for one strange thing: pleiotropy.

A LOT of the genes that aid domestication by reducing aggression mess w/the embryonic neural crest, a VERY important developmental highway for a ton of different cell types, such as ones that control collagen & pigment. So genes that affect one also tend to affect the other.

For example, a gene that moderately reduces the adrenal gland also produces piebaldism!

Since all of us mammals - esp mammals - are pretty genetically similar & tend to have a lot of the same regions and pretty similar loci, we see the same patterns across domestic species.

By the time domestication's done its thing those traits stop being major factors. Like...a tuxedo cat isnt going to be less aggressive than solid black. But those features are harmless, sometimes bred for deliberately, and so they stick around.

Regardless of whether neural crest cell theory is true or or there's another explanation besides pleiotropy, most instances of domestication syndrome wouldn't crop up in a gene guide like you intend to write, but some will! We're going to see collagen mutations (floppy ears, altered tails, etc) & leucism in most domestic animals.

2. artificial selection for useful traits

Consider what your fictional species is being bred for.

Rabbits bred for fur tend not to give much meat and be kinda stringy, but they're super, super fluffy with lots of useful fur. In contrast, good fucking luck needle felting with the fur from a Californian rabbit.

Mutations don't crop up when they're needed, they crop up at random and then are spread through reproduction. Which means that how many extreme traits your fictional species is able to have is going to depend largely on what traits they already had, and then at least partially on how long ago domestication began.

For example, cows already produced milk long before humans got a hold of them. There was natural variation amongst their ancestors in how much they produced. Humans bred the highest-producing cattle & their bull offspring. This created cows who could produce commercial levels of milk.

(I've talked many times about how gradient traits producing offspring further on one side or the other is very important in evolution - this is why! Most adaptations aren't single novel mutations, just accumulations of older mutations acting polygenetically)

If you wanted to breed a cow who also produced WOOL though...yeah good luck w/that. That's a lot of mutations that probably aren't happening any time soon.

My advice here is to examine an imaginary wild ancestor & ask yourself why domestication happened, and then what major breed categories might exist. Figure out what sorts of traits those categories would have. Dogs bred for hunting burrowing creatures tend to be small & long. Dogs bred for hunting bears tend to be fucking huge. etc. Bearing in mind what would be realistic to mutate i the rough timeframe you're imagining.

3. study common genes & what causes them

You give chocolate as an example, which does indeed crop up in a lot of species! Is it a trait of domestication syndrome? No. Is it a useful trait? Well, for prettiness yes, but show breeding comes long after use breeding & chocolate's usually already in the population by then. So, why do we see it so much?

Because it's REALLY EASY to mutate.

In the wild, deviations from the norm can very easily get an individual killed. Piebald deer are born all the time, but are easy to spot & die. Albino animals are born all the time. They're easy to spot, their eyes are sun-sensitive, etc etc... If merle cropped up in wolves, it'd WRECK their shit.

But humans are really good at making animals not die, so weird colors tend to survive with us. The ones that are simply super easy to mutate thus survive & thrive in a domestic environment.

I could go on about what makes a gene easy to mutate, conserved regions, etc etc...but you don't need that much technical detail. It's enough to understand the simple mechanics behind how traits work & apply them. You're already on the right track! You didn't say "chocolate," you said "turn black into brown"; you didn't say "gray," you said "turn color paler." That's the right mentality!!

To take it a step further, chocolate mutations change the shape of eumelanin to reflect brown. Black can also become brown throug mutations that cause agouti, which doesn't actually turn black brown, but bands hairs to give them the illusion of brown. Dilution mutations change the distribution of pigment, which makes it appear lighter.

More examples:

Piebaldism fucks up the ability of melanocytes to reach their destinations in development, so they can't produce melanin for the skin/hair

Ginger/orange/red mutations swap out eumelanin for pheomelanin

Blue tends to be structural rather than formed from pigment; that's why it's in birds/reptiles/amphibians a lot but not mammals, bc hair can't really be structured in the same way that skin/feathers/scales can be

Colorpoint/Himalayan mutations are temperature-sensitive

(Tbh your study of cells & physiology is going to be more useful to you than genetics in this endeavor...)

Knowing this stuff lets you make informed decisions about what's happening to your animal & how certain mutations would affect it.

For example, I made a simple document for dragon genetics a while back. I knew from a class I'd recently taken that structural & pigment colors can overlap. Some birds/frogs are green because their feathers/skin themselves are structured to reflect blue light separately from the structure of the pheomelanin also present.

Because the green color is coming from TWO sources rather than one, it's easy for a mutation to simply...make pigment no longer be produced, without affecting the innate structure at all.

These birds are BOTH structurally blue, but one has yellow pigment on top. Yellow + blue = green so he appears green & yellow. The other doesn't have any yellow, so there's just white where yellow would be, and just blue where the other has green!

Using this knowledge, I was able to create a WIDE variety of dragon colors using only a small handful of loci: one or two for structure, and one or two for pigment. I could also have them come in wild patterns w/predictable color combos with only a handful of loci, by having alleles that affected pigment without structure. (Pigment is easier to affect than structure, structure is complex...)

4. my general workflow

That's a lot of info and it's probably overwhelming so here's a simple breakdown of how I approach a project like this:

come up with cool animal in my head

figure out how, mechanically, that animal looks the way it does ("I imagined them orange so it's probably pheomelanin-based")

For each new gene, either think of a cool appearance & then look up similar animals to find out what could cause it OR find a cool gene that already exists in another animal & figure out how a similar mutation would affect my animal

GOOD LUCK!

[phantomphangphucker]

Phic Phight - Corpse Snatching Is A Violation Of Bird Law

For: @murphy-kitt @tourettesdog @kinglazrus @camels-pen

Wes steals a corpse, someone pisses off a goose, Danny breaks the law; everyone suffers.

A lone person hacks at the earth like a lunatic, shovel hitting splintered wood, then flesh and bone. Puffing out ragged breaths, chest heaving like they were about to burst apart. Dirt flying everywhere as they tore the last pieces away with their bare hands, laughing, high and shrill and wrong.

“There you are, you ugly bastard”. Hands grabbing at the limp arms and yanking them free, free from soil and worms and cheap ply wood.

It looked fresh.

It was perfect.

Truth can no longer be denied!

Danny had been having a good day, so long as he ignored the mildly fresh stab wound in his leg, and the probably moldy sandwich in his stomach giving him a stomachache, and the fact that his eyes are still watering from whatever new spray thing his folks made, his folks also thought that making and installing some kind of catapult trebuchet thing outside of the mall was a good idea, and that Mr. Campbell had assigned even more tedious bug-related homework… you know what? no. Danny hadn’t actually been having a good day. Screw today actually.

At least he hasn’t had to fight a god today?

“HEY FENTON!”.

Oh Ancients, what the zone does Wes want? Normally he’d be all for verbally berating the wannabe sleuth bu-

“YEET!”.

Danny gets absolutely bodied straight in the head by something large, floppy, and moderately heavy; him getting knocked to the floor. “What the Hell Wes!”. Flailing his arms to bat off whatever Wes just fucking threw at him, and sitting up to snarl at the kid, “I’m going to pay someone to eat all your left socks and bleach your shoes”.

Then Danny actually looks at the thing that had crashed into his skull… it’s his own dead body what the actual FUCK and how?!???!?!??!?! Snapping his head back towards the very smug looking Wes, “dude, did you rob a corpse out of some poor fuckers grave and mess with it to look like me? What is wrong with you!”.

Wes screws up his face in multiple ways, “I didn’t steal anyone’s corpse other than yours!”.

“Living people don’t have corpses!”.

“You’re not alive!”.

“Do I need to walk around with a pulse monitor again!”.

“The head stone even had your name on it!”.

“Do you think my name is completely unique or something!?!”.

“It looks JUST LIKE YOU and was in a grave MARKED WITH YOUR NAME literally inside of AMITY PARK’S PARK WOODS! That is NOT A GODDAMN COINCIDENCE!”.

“Says you and that mouth full!”.

“SAYS LOGIC!”.

Danny grabs up his literal fucking corpse, and starts puppeting its mouth open and closed mockingly, “oh look at me! I’m a silly funny corpse boy some crazy man dug up! Aren’t I so totally proof that Schrödinger cat is actually Schrödinger boy! Look at my mouth move! Look how totally real and alive I am!”.

“How can you do that TO YOUR OWN DEAD BODY!”.

“MAYBE ITS NOT MY DEAD BODY! DID YOU EVER THINK OF THAT!”.

“THERE IS NO OTHER POSSIBILITY!”.

“ANOTHER POSSIBILITY IS THAT IT’S NOT A CORPSE! IT’S A SOCK PUPPET!”.

“NO IT IS NOT! PUT YOURSELF DOWN!”.

Danny lifts up his corpse up over his head and then just starts wiping it around like a flag by one of its arms, “WOOOO! LOOK AT THE GIANT OBVIOUS DEAD FLAG OF PROOF! FEAR ME AND MY CORPSE FLAG!”.

“YOU NEED THERAPY!”.

“I TRIED! THE THERAPIST CHANGED HER NAME AND FLED THE COUNTRY IN FEAR!”.

“THAT’S WHAT YOU GET FOR BEING DEAD!”.

“DEAD IN THE HEAD ONLY!”.

“THEN EXPLAIN AWAY YOUR OWN BLOODY CORPSE!”.

“I DON’T SEE ANY BLOOD LEAKING FROM IT DO YOU!?! AND WHAT KIND OF ASSHAT WOULD EVEN DIG UP SOMEBODY‘S FUCKING CORPSE YOU WHACKO!”.

“You! YOU’RE DEAD! YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE WITH YOUR CORPSE! I’M FIXING THAT!”.

“YOU’RE FIXING SWEET DICK ALL!”.

“IT’S NOT EVEN ROTTED! IT WANTS YOU BACK!”.

“I BITE MY THUMB AT THEE! VILE POTATO!”.

“The truth MUST BE KNOWN!”.

“KNOW THIS DICK! WES!”.

Wes launches himself at Danny, knocking Danny back into the ground and making him lose his grip on his corpse. Danny’s corpse sailing through the air and smashing into a stop sign, while Danny and Wes roll around on the ground kicking and punching the shit out of each other.

You know, like any other totally normal day in Amity Park.

Emilie sips her drink, looking to the side, the corpse was lying next to the stop sign now… next to her… it kinda looked like it was giving a thumbs-up. Or maybe rigor mortis just kind of looked like that? Oh whatever, Emilie high-fives it anyway, she loves this towns completely unhinged tomfuckery. Going wide eyed, standing up quickly, and chugging the rest of her frothy drink. Tossing the drink at the garbage can and grabbing the corpses hair, “you’re coming with me”.

There was a weird sorta catapult not even ten minutes away from here. She can make the corpse sail through the sky like all its dead spooky buddies!

Wes and Danny stop, looking up, with Danny’s hand in Wes’s mouth, Wes attempting to stuff grave dirt in Danny’s ear, and Danny with a fist full of Wes’s hair in his non-bitten hand. There was a bizarre whipping sound, and it was getting closer. The two watching, and heads following, as Danny’s corpse flips through the air end over end before smashing into a Canadian goose. The goose honks full of Canadian pride as it falls to the ground.

Wes spitting out Danny’s hand, “congrats, you started a war with Canada”.

“I don’t know, it was your property, you’re the one who dug it up”.

“It’s YOUR CORPSE!”.

“I got RID OF IT! IT WAS AND IS MINE NO MORE! YOU TOOK IT! IT’S YOUR CORPSE!”.

A goose honks angrily, the two stopping and turning, there’s a goose. The goose is very angry. Apparently, It did not appreciate having a flesh bag catapulted into Its flight path; who would have thought. It starts flying at them filled with pure aggression and a lust for blood. Both boys going wide-eyed, scrambling up, and fleeing.

The only way this could get worse is if some Ancient started shouting about them killing their favourite goose, even if It didn't seem to actually be dead.

Wes fucking bodily picks him up, Danny yelping, “what the ZONE ARE YOU DOING! HOW DOES THIS HELP!?!”.

“Your face is the one that hit It! If It thinks you’re dead and gone It’ll LEAVE!”.

“What are you even TALKING ABOUT!”.

Danny starts swinging down at Wes once they get into the park, this fucker was so totally just going to throw him into his own grave. What an ass. Wes holding Danny up with rod straight arms and scrunching his head/neck down means all Danny gets is goddamn clumps of hair; as they pass by trees. Damnit he hated be short! And way too many people are staring from their homes, the street, and the park itself for him to phase away.

At least the sleuth is outrunning the goose.

… actually that’s just infuriating the goose more. Enough that other geese have joined in and there’s just a fucking whole gaggle of geese now.

Wes slipping a bit away from Danny’s grave, effectively tossing Danny at the hole, before scrambling over and starting to throw fist fulls of dirt at a still flailing Danny. “You want to haunt this town! Then you can ROT PROPERLY!”.

Danny shoving his hands out and grabbing the jerks wrist, yanking the kid into the grave with him, “HA! THOU ART VANQUISHED! WRETCHED CORPSE SNATCHER! FOUL DIGGER OF BONES!”.

The two stilling as the geese surround the hole in the ground, both promptly pointing at the other, “he did it!”. While all the geese’s eyes glare red down at them like tiny, pissed off demons; murderous ducks on meth.

“Hey!”.

“Fuck you!”.

The geese honk angrily down at them, the boys both start screaming angrily right back and mock honking at them. One of the geese picks up a shovel and just starts swinging it around in its mouth like a nunchuck.

Then the ground tingles, or Danny can feel it tingle. Him looking down slowly while Wes keeps honking, fuck him entirely. Guess corpse of a halfa plus a grave plus an actual halfa plus Amity Park’s high level of free floating ectoplasm equaled ghost portal.

Weeeeee.

FUN.

Danny shouting, “THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!”, as the two boys fall down through the portal. Geese honking pure violence and diving in after. They had been actively safer huddling in a grave. Both boys just screaming incoherently while Danny transforms, holding onto Wes’s wrists, and flying off to flee the geese gaggle.

There are many things Danny chooses not to question. His own biology. Vlad’s weird thing for the Packers. What UnderGrowth sees in Sam. Tucker’s opinion of anything to do with furries. Nocturne’s current interest in making drugs. His folks deciding giving the town public access to a trebuchet, which is a choice he’s officially rating H for HONK. Another thing he’s choosing not to question is way multiple boarder-line incomprehensible ghosts that look to be amalgamations of foxes, coyotes, eagles, owls, and humans, start trying to assault the geese.

Fox claws are throttling goose necks. Geese are tearing out eyes. An owl beak flings a goose around by the leg while its tongue flails around wildly. A goose smacks another goose with its head accidentally and gets nearly pecked to death. A human hand is on fire and seemingly trying to make deep fried geese. A goose smashes the shovel on a coyote nose. One amalgamation is spinning in circles with multiple geese bitting onto It, like a fucked up beyblade.

Danny shouting, “apparently when you catapult a CORPSE at a goose and drag it to the zone! It sends a COSMIC RSVP to EVERY ELDRITCH ABOMINATION in a FIFTY-MILE RADIUS!”.

“GET US BACK HOME! YOU SPOOKY BASTARD!”.

“YOU OWE ME ONE CORPSE AS PAYMENT!”.

“I’M NOT GIVING YOU BACK YOUR CORPSE! I NEED THAT AS PROOF! IT’S MINE!”.

“OH SO NOW ITS YOUR CORPSE! I SEE HOW IT IS! YOU ONLY WANT ME FOR MY BODY!”.

“SO YOU ADMIT IT!”.

“I ADMIT NOTHING!”.

Both of them shrieking, Danny flying faster, when Walker is just suddenly there and looming over them, “HOW DID YOU BREAK GEESE LAW! MULTIPLE MIGRATORY BIRD ACTS! THOSE FEATHERED FIENDS ARE BARRED FROM THESE LANDS!”.

Danny shouting at Wes, “DO YOU KNOW BIRD LAW LOOPHOLES!?!”.

“WHY WOULD I KNOW THAT!”.

“YOU KNOW LOTS OF DUMB SHIT! BIRD LAW IS DUMB SHIT!”.

Waller snarling, “I HEARD THAT! DO NOT INSULT THE LAW! PUNKS!”.

Danny dives for the first portal he can see, desperately hoping and willing it to just goddamn take him back to goddamn Amity goddamn Park!

… and it does? Weird?

The two boys slamming onto the ground, Danny making a point to change back, him groaning, “you still owe me a corpse”.

Wes wheezing, “it ain’t gonna be yours”.

They still as a foreboding honk sounds, the two lifting their heads slowly.

There’s a goose. One lone goose.

It has Danny’s corpse’s neck in Its mouth and rage in Its eyes.

It cranes Its head back, flopping the corpse backwards slapping on the ground behind the goose, then snaps Its neck forwards, proceeding to smash the two boys with the corpse. Over and over again. Danny and Wes just cover their heads and cry.

A plaque gets added to the Fenton Trebuchet within the day, asking everyone to please refrain from using it to launch corpses through the skies of Amity Park. That, of course, resulted in on particular corpse getting launched through the air repeatedly. The corpse acquired tapped on sunglasses and a goose-themed Hawaiian shirt, it was now named Denny.

Wes was pissed.

And Danny? Danny had decided that that day was, in fact, a really fucking good day.

End.

Prompts: Wes has always been trying to prove Danny Fenton is their town hero, and now he finally has the proof. A burial site in the park. Danny didn't think his parents' inventions could possibly get more dangerous... But that was before they introduced the Fenton Trebuchet. There's a shallow grave in the woods. The only marker is a stone with the name "Danny" scratched into it. It's empty, but it hasn't been empty for long. There is a goose LOOSE in the Ghost Zone.

[sewinrat]

If you were one of Luther's Cat:

Obviously you're not a normal cat. No gender mentioned dw;

While Nyon has those floppy cat ears and Nyen has like a cat hat, you have a beret with cat ears. Do with that information as you will, but either way no one knows if it can come off.

You eat poison once. It was an accident. Trouble likes to linger around you but they can get worse as years went by.

You were the middle cat. What I meant by that is, both in role and personality. You were not as mean as Nyen can be but you were also not as nice as Nyon is.(Unless of course you have a different opinion.) Remember the tier list they had in Vol 1. Lucid 5? Yea, you're placed either in Dime, Ace or something else like Hearts/Diamonds but never higher than that in tier 4. Close to Tier 3 actually but Nyen can be petty.

Danger Level: MODERATE

You are often found around the kitchen or the living room. Any other parts of the house you might be seen is because you have to go there under an order or for other reason. Once, Sebastian found you somewhere in a hallway sitting on the floor terrifyingly staring at the wall.

Unlike Nyen, when it comes to vacuums, you're one of those that chill on it. Just pop hide your limbs, be a bun and sit on top of it. If this ever happens, Nyen usually respects you more than he does when you're off it. It doesn't last long tho.

Of course since you're Luther's cat, you are loyal to him. It's inevitable especially in the ivory house. Luther's house. Maybe when you were a regular human, you would've accidentally met him in Michigan. You lost everything before so why must you worry about your human life when you can be a cat while gaining inhuman traits from Luther. Don't mind whatever happens within the house, you can do anything under his permission.

Ranfren Characters thoughts on You;

Randal: "Yeahh I don't care much about them.. However they're my favourite out of big brother's cats! They're willing to play with me unlike the other two! It's fun since Sebastian don't play my games. I would call them my friend if it weren't for the fact that they're big brother's... And also the fact they can act like him." In short, he would see you as his friend but non friend.

Sebastian: "O-oh.. Who are you? Uh uhm.. okay? I guess they're fine. They're not as crazy as that other one.. but they still make me uncomfortable.. especially when they stare at the wall for no reason. I just hope they won't try to kill me.." He's afraid but he's fine. He can tolerate.

Nyen: "Oh them? I guess they're okay. They're boring to me but they are terrifying when they're on the damn vacuum. *shivers* eugh.. thinking about it makes me sick. Don't tell them that or else I would have to suffer their smug smile for a while." He doesn't care much. Don't try to snitch on him.

Nyon: "... They're okay." He's too quiet on the matter but don't worry, he likes you. You're not mean as Nyen. If anything, you also amuse him randomly. Especially when he saw you intimidating Nyen one time.

Luther: "Ah yes, one of my lovely cats. Out of the other two, as a kitten, they act so good. Better than the two. However, I love them all equally. As they grew older, it seems that trouble stirs around them more but it's fine. It's not as troublesome as some of the things Randal puts himself into. Now, while you are here, come have tea or please leave." His opinion has not changed. He loves you just as much as he loves his family.

Bonus! Ratman Robert: "How the hell did you get here? Whatever, you don't look like one of them. The middle cat? No comment. I don't know if I should be afraid that they seem to be plotting something or grateful they don't attack us when they see us. I would like it better if they don't stare at the wall. It's uncomfortable to feel their eyes on me." He's scared. But he would offer you food that he has as peace offering one day. Don't eat him.

[wywaskblog]

Do we have any specifics about the model/make of Sungrass? Do we have anything that the other bots (or the askers) could access (online, books, manuals, etc.) about Sungrass' model? If so, can we get instructions, or at least information, on how to turn off pain or touch receptors for Sungrass' specific (or general) make/model? Can we just shut him down for like a week and not have him suffer through this??

(I don't know how to roleplay in this situation, you can answer this as a moderator or any way you want.)

As of right now, I am trying to figure out the specifics of what's your worth's timeline. This ties into all of the bots, because, they all would have roughly different makes.

Sungrass, in this particular case, was made in 2038. From 2038 to 2044, daycare attendant models were given a range of slight faceplate changes, to entirely different types of casing (which will be expanded on later).

In this regard, Sungrass works a lot like the original daycare attendant and has the same endoskeleton and casing like one too. The only differences are his faceplate coming out a bit wrong—hence the gap between his teeth—and the floppy, petal-like rays. He did serve as a daycare attendant, so, in the end, he is just another sun...

Though, four years later in 2042, the Pizzaplex that Sungrass belonged to burned down, so any information onward about him is unknown.

For clarification, the present time is 2062.

I suppose blueprints are accessible to the public, and I am looking through Sister Location's blueprints. I can imagine them to be online, so I would argue that Fazbear does have accessible blueprints, especially to any mechanics. Some heavy searching would have to be done, but it is possible since Fazbear is prevalent within this world. It would be easier for the bots though, as they all, at some point, belonged to Fazbear, and I don't see why they couldn't get into Fazbear systems.

I would not say that there are blueprints for each specific bot, but a general one for the daycare attendant. Thankfully, that should apply easily to Sungrass because he hadn't been repurposed like the others.

I imagine there are a few ways to stop his pain.

His code could be tampered with, which would be a lot more reliable solution. Disabling them would disable all sensory receptors altogether, which would allow him to be in no pain. He simply would be unable to feel things.

It might take more time to disable pain receptors only. Are you willing to look through all his code to disable it? Write new code if necessary? Apricot might be willing.

There are also the wires on the back of his head. You could easily unplug a few, though I can imagine his instability considering some have already been damaged. As intrusive as looking through his code is, it might be worse if you unplug wires willy nilly. Especially if you are unable to plug the wires back in.

Are you really that willing to shut him down for a week? Or more? If you are, then hope that he starts up again.

Or hasn't been reset, somehow.

[trenchgardens-ooc-ooc-ooc-ooc]

the queerfilled bestiemaxxers

[riddles-n-games]

Exposed

Pairing: N/A Summary: Grayson gets to enjoy a late start for once with his best girl, Tiramisu. Unfortunately, someone decides to spoil that dreamless sleep and expose his closely guarded secret. Puppy cuddles are therapeutic for the soul. Sue him. Length: Moderate Story Type: One Shot

A/N: Hey guys, sorry this is a bit late but this is my dedication to Grayson's birthday appreciation. Originally this was supposed to be a bonus fic after I released my second horse fic but as you can see that hasn't happened so I thought why not just get it done for his bday? (Ok, I know it's past his birthday but ignore that.)

    Disaster struck, tragedy ensued. He was discovered, his secret exposed. The world would know his wrath but world domination would have to wait a bit because at the moment, there was still a snuggly bundle curled up next to him asleep in his arms. He smiled down at her. 

    Tiramisu Panini Hawthorne. The Hawthorne puppy was not so small anymore as she was five months old now but she was just as wriggly, happy, and fluffier than ever. And also a backstabber by choosing him as her favorite Hawthorne which must have been the reason for the flash breakin that woke him. He heard sniggering and hushed voices down the hall which meant two suspects; Xander and Jameson. On an infamous night when a certain incident occurred perhaps involving the tightest pair of leather pants in existence, videos and photos were taken and posted that unfortunately went viral.

    While he managed to deep clean the Internet in only the way Grayson Hawthorne could, the original menac-posters still had the content saved to their devices, several of them. He feared how much new blackmail material they got away with this time. He would scour every corner, surface and dark web, deep cleaning the Internet of all footage just like the first time. He’d get his revenge, he just had to bide his time.     

Grayson would not be dubbed Mr. Cuddles and yes, he would decline the puppy interview to keep his sanity, no matter how many hearts were broken or the adorableness of the pups. He would not yield. This was a call to war; a total and absolute declaration. In such a case, Hawthornes loved getting down in the dirt and Grayson didn’t mind getting his hands dirty to get things squared. Playing dirty meant gloves off; that was the Hawthorne way. So maybe his homicidal mother was right about something after all.

    But till then he’d relax in his bed and enjoy a late morning for once, though the photographer in him was now itching for a photo. The rays of sunlight coming in through the blinds, the way it lit up the carpet and the left side of his bed, the adorable puppy snoozing happily under his comforter- Ah yes, her. She would be his subject but he was too comfortable to get up and he didn’t want to disturb her. Besides, growing puppies still need plenty of sleep.  “Just don’t grow up too quickly,” he whispered. The photoshoot could happen later.

    Suddenly, Tiramisu shifted in his arms and started pawing at his chest, whimpering as the swiping got faster. Nightmare?  Note to self, look into dog dreaming. “Shh, girl. You’re alright.”

   Grayson moved away to avoid getting scratched and quickly turned her over so that her legs were away from him, hugging her tight and readjusting the blanket over them. When he got resettled, he brought a hand to her ear and rubbed gentle circles into the fur with his thumb. He loved her ears; they were super soft, curly, fluffy, and floppy. Oh how time went by; it was funny, he mused, how attached to the puppy he became after a few short months. Who knew that all it took was a puppy to single-handedly turn Grayson Hawthorne into a pile of mush? 

    Yes, so he was wrapped around her cute little paw. He’d hurt anyone who dared make a move. But it’d taken being at his lowest to get where he was now. 

    After Atonement Night, he often found her wandering his wing or lying down at the foot of his door, waiting to be let in. Her tail would instantly start wagging when he approached and those forlorn puppy eyes would stare deep into his soul, so hopeful that he’d let her in and how could he say no to that face? 

     He’d sigh a little dramatically and just before he unlocked the door, she’d get up, waiting expectantly as he scanned the hall for uninvited visitors and extra cameras. When he opened the door, he would pause so she could go in first and prance right past him, heading for his closet. It confused him as to what the pup found so interesting there as he would set down his stuff on and around the desk before heading for the ensuite. Most times he’d leave her be as there were spare clothes in the bathroom but one time he forgot so when he entered the closet, he found her wrapped in old shirts and socks with one of his slippers in her possession. He wasn’t sure what to make of it but she looked too cute and innocent with those big eyes that he just had to take a picture. 

    Some weeks passed and the pattern continued; every time he checked on her, she had his slipper and rested on a particular shirt that he discovered was from his HCD days. She also started staying late into the night in his room, sleeping at the foot of his bed right next to his slippers; another photo op. Eventually that too changed as when he woke early to swim, a chocolate brown lump would greet him at the edge of his bed which often got him smiling to himself. He would do his best to slip out of bed without disturbing her and before he left, scratched behind her ears and placed a fluffy blanket on top of her. 

    It didn’t take long for him to jump the gun and when he finally caught her sneaking onto the bed one night, he called to her and patted the spot next to him. Tiramisu had all too eagerly bounded toward him, all happy tail wags and pants before she laid her head on his side and settled down. 

    When she fell asleep, Grayson stayed awake, stroking her fur and staring at the ceiling, deep in thought. For the first time he’d realized that something about him was changing; he’d been careless. No, not in a bad way but he hadn’t been paying much attention to his actions for once, at least, in regards to the puppy. Though he remained his usual controlled self wherever he was in the House and in his wing with Tiramisu in tow, he hadn’t bothered acting removed or unaffected by her happy presence. He could just be. Sure, he wasn’t around her much those first few weeks but he hadn’t been cold or distanced when they were alone. It was just that the little happy accidents had finally gotten the ball rolling and pushed them together to start bonding properly. He never relaxed that quickly around anybody so it was a shock to him how quickly he adapted to being laid back and receptive to her in his privacy, his safe space. She made him happier, more smiley (that was still something he didn’t want to easily admit); that was when he knew Xander had been right. No wall was too high or too strong for her to knock down with just a blink of her big eyes. But Xan would never get to know that unless he ran out of secrets to share during Chutes and Ladders which he doubted would ever happen. But most important of all, she made him feel carefree. 

    For so long, he had to keep his guard up and be perfect; that was his curse as heir apparent. Former heir apparent. Eve and Emily, they’d been awful lapses in judgment but dwelling on the past did nothing to wash away the sins. And he’d been learning to let that go, slowly. Spending time with the puppy in his room helped that progress and relieved the ache of responsibility off his shoulders. With Tiramisu, he finally felt that long needed peace and it was nice that she had no expectations of that sort. All she needed was food, water, sleep, and play while all she wanted was a bit of attention, snuggles, walks, and love. Grayson knew he could give that much because what was a dog’s duty as man’s best friend in comparison? 

    They were expected to be loyal, trusting, fearless, protective, playful, and loving. They had to give all of themselves to their purpose and one could beat them, hurt them, scare them into submission, break them completely and a dog would still give and give and give in hopes that they would be enough for their owner’s expectations. That they would be worthy of just a bit of affection that their owner could spare no matter what they went through because it was in their nature. And hadn’t that been him his entire life thus far?

    He’d given and given more every time as he bent over backwards trying to please his grandfather and the world as the heir, as the second eldest, as the one with the brightest future of all his brothers. He dedicated himself wholly; heart, body, mind, and soul to perfecting each talent, every skill, every part of his being to be the perfect well-oiled machine of control. And it was all for naught. But that hadn’t been Avery’s fault. It was just that begged the question, What now? What to do with his life after all he’d been promised and told to do so he could become the rightful successor worthy of his grandfather’s place was ripped right from under him? He didn’t know. The foundation wasn’t going to need him forever and he dropped Harvard so what next? 

    The chocolate Labradoodle obscured that and he’d been immensely thankful for it. She reminded him that there was a time and a place and maybe where he needed to be was just in the right now. He could do that and he would have her to keep that new motto going. Having a new pet in Hawthorne House in general had been good; it gave him and his brothers a change of pace. He looked into the science of pet therapy and the specifics of having a dog as said therapeutic animal. It had to be done from a secret laptop to ensure Xan wouldn’t snoop; he already had too many hacked gadgets, even an old camera! At first, it had been mild interest but the more papers he read and explanations from credited sources, he became more and more invested. It was very a Hawthorne thing for him to do. But in the end, it did serve a purpose as he shifted from needing everything to be perfect.

    When he went home after working into the night at the office and he was too tired to properly function, he gladly scooped up the puppy and leaned his head against her neck as he fell asleep. He didn’t care that he shouldn’t need a cuddle buddy. He started keeping a bag of her favorite treats in a desk drawer and got a dog bed complete with a little pillow and the old swim athletics shirt. Grayson had realized his scent was still on the shirt since he hadn’t washed that one in a long time and she liked his smell so he let her have it. There was also a little basket with some toys wrapped in an old pillowcase but her favorite thing was still his slipper which he amended by getting a new pair so the other single slipper would be hers as well if she wanted. He even came up with a special secret nickname for her that he’d use when no one was around and used it indulgently; Misu. Funny enough, he found out that it was also a real thing, a Korean beverage made of grain powder.

    On sleepless nights, he would start telling her about his day which eventually led to him admitting his fears out loud and whispering his worst secrets in the dark. At first, he tried to refrain but when he forced him to say it, he felt better. It didn’t have to be this way anymore. He could have something better, something he wanted. And anyways, it wasn’t like Tiramisu was going to say anything but knowing that he could confess without fear of judgment or anyone knowing yet before he was ready to share, he felt relief. So much so that sometimes he could feel the sting of tears prickling at the corners of his eyes but he’d swiped them away before they could become fully formed. He wasn’t there yet in his emotional acceptance. Long story short, since then, she’d become his closest confidante and as of the moment, favorite family member. 

    At some point in his mindless reminiscing, somebody had woken up. Grayson had been stroking her fur, letting his hand glide through the curls and when he once again reached the top of her head, he felt eyes on him. He turned his head and saw Tiramisu looking at him in that innocent way that dogs did when they were expecting something. He smiled. “Hi girl, did you sleep well?” 

    She butted her head against his palm gently as he stroked the side of her snout. Then, she got up and shook herself off before stepping over him and sniffed curiously at his neck and shoulders. He scratched her neck in response. 

    “We had some very rude intruders this morning, Misu. Wanna help me get back at them? You distract and I will set up cameras.”

    She licked his nose. He chuckled.

    “I’ll take that as a yes.”

A/N: Well, hope you enjoyed that. See you in the next one. But before I forget, I'm thinking of starting a tag list. Let me know if you want to be put on it for my next fic. Bye!

Bonus:

These were some earlier tries (don't even ask about the dozens of awful attempts which will stay there to purposefully haunt me) that were among my faves. Unfortunately, different AI generators either couldn't get Grayson to look like a young man WITHOUT a beard (they insisted that be a feature almost every time) or they messed up the chocolate brown of Tiramisu. Not to mention the extra limbs, eugh.

[unrealistic-ideas-for-writers]

Corn Hole, Barbecue Macaroni, and Bread Fight

[A Beneath the Sands Moder!Au Oneshot.]

Alternative Title: Date Night >:3

(I mentioned this idea previously on my last update post, and again recently, so here’s the polyqueer fic I’ve been dying to write.)

“CORN HOLE NIGHT-“

Jiahui let out a shriek, cutting herself off as she tripped over a rock hidden amongst the beach’s pale sands. Valerian snickered, watching her hop around on her good foot, prosthetic exchanged for a carved walking stick.

“Should’ve worn closed toed sandals like the rest of us,” he stated smugly, mentally patting himself on the back for wearing River sandals-

Only to promptly trip over the very same rock.

“FUCK-“

Further up the beach, Caladin had already set up their tent shade in the late evening sunshine and was now digging a fire pit.

Both Valerian and Jiahui paused for a moment to just watch the shirtless man dig. He’d put his hair up in a bun today and well…?

“Are you two coming or…?”

Sobeknesef came up from behind, a bundle of dried out drift wood from further up the strand slung over his shoulder.

Both Jiahui and Valerian found themsleves more flustered at the sight of their partner in one of his tacky Hawaiian shirt with all the buttons open.

“This is bad for my blood pressure-“ Jiahui blurted. Valerian couldn’t help but nod in agreement, adjusting his horrendously floppy sunhat. It was a garish, artificial yellow with a bright green bow. Caladin had picked it out for him, saying the sunflower embroidery and green suited the geology major.

Valerian hadn’t had the heart to say no.

This began the little tradition of his partners trying to get the ugliest sun hats possible for him because he’d never turn them down.

Even Cage had gotten in on the tradition, giving all of them heart palpitations with her cuteness when she got herself and Valerian matching Unicorn sun hats.

Currently, Cage was staying with her Auntie Dahlia while her parents had a date night.

Sobeknesef set the driftwood down next to Caladin and began setting up their chairs and portable grill. This gave Valerian time to cool off in the shade of the tent and apply *another* layer of sunscreen. Jiahui was already building the corn hole in a shady part of the shallows, practically buzzing with excitement.

“Alright. Fire pit’s ready. There’s stuff for s’mores in the cooler as well-“ Caladin hummed, dusting sand off his hands as he stood up.

Sobeknesef hummed in acknowledgment, digging through the cooler and getting ready to start grilling up falafel and heat up the side dishes.

“Oh- Val- come here- you missed like, half your back,” Caladin said, gently taking the spray sunscreen from his partner.

"This is going to be cold-" the blonde warned, giving his partner no time to protest as he lifted up the back of his long-sleeved shirt and spraying wayyyy to close.

"JESUS FUCK- Cal- that's to close!!! It's gonna be sticky-"

"It'll be sticky anyways, right? And you need a lot of sunscreen-"

"It's under my shirt!!!"

"Shhhh that's irrelevant-"

Their bickering was cut off by a wet, sandy hacky-sack smacking Caladin in the back of his head. They both paused, just staring at the soggy, red ball while Sobeknesef snickered in the background.

"Oi! Are you two ever going to join me????" Jiahui called, giggling at Caladin's confused cat face.

Valerian snorted, dragging the still stupefied blonde man into the shady portion of the shallows, "We won't go east on you, Jia-"

"Speak for yourself! Caladin's on my team!" She grinned, dragging said man over to her side and handing him a red hacky-sack.

"Wha?? No??? The Big Guy is busy grilling dinner- and I'm allergic to sun???"

"So is Cal??? And I don't even have my leg, gimme a breakkkkk"

Caladin, who found this entire conversation very, very amusing simply grabbed a rock and handed the hacky-sack back to Jiahui.

"I can also be my own team," He said simply, a slight grin on his face. The two blanched, already picturing the carnage.

-

And carnage it was. Jiahui was winning at one point- and then Cal had thrown his “hacky-sack” too hard and now there was a hole in the tent, a broken cornhole board, and sand in the falafel.

"Well...? Maybe it won't be too bad? Just a little crunchy?" Jiahui offered nervously, trying to help Sobeknesef salvage the grilled foods. The taller man huffed softly, something fond as he passed a container of still-warm falafel skewers that had been safely tucked away in a container.

"Here. Grab the condiments from the cooler and I'll set up the table?"

She couldn't help but smile. Sobeknesef had the most foresight out of all of them. Except for maybe when it came to Cage. She giggled quietly to herself as she grabbed the condiments from the cooler, distinctly remembering the automatic NERF gun incident.

In the background, Caladin could be heard scooping up a startled Valerian and carrying the poor man back up the beach. She bit back a laugh, listening to Cal's gentle lecturing.

"You look flushed. Have you been drinking your water? you really shouldn't have taken off your hat, even if we were in the shade. But don't worry, I brought you electrolyte drinks-"

"Cal- it's literally just from exercise-"

Sobeknesef chimed in, already handing off a Gatorade to Valerian with a frown, "Still, it doesn't hurt to be careful. You aren't the type to flush easily anyways."

He paused, pushing one of the chairs further into the shade, "Here. Cal, you can set him down here."

"I can get down myself," said man grumbled, but allowed his partner to settle him down anyways.

Jiahui settled right next to him, passing out plates.

--

Dinner went buy in a flash and the sun was settling quickly. A few cans of a local craft beer in their systems and pleasantly (or not so pleasantly cough cough Valerian and Caladin) sun flushed had them stumbling back to the pick up. Loading everything turned into a messy sand fight and a deep clean that Sobeknesef would lament in the morning.

Fortunately, the house was only a few minutes up the beach, and Valerian was designated driver. Lupus medications don't mix well with alcohol, unfortunately.

The group giggled hysterically as they tried to stumble upstairs, even more so when Jiahui forgot her prosthetic wasn't on-

"This is so unfairrrrrr- I wanna drink too-" Valerian groaned, making Caladin carry him up stairs. The blonde merely snorted, gently patting his thigh. Entering the house was a quick shuffle to the various bathrooms to rinse off and become un-sandy.

The night ended with all four college students curled up together on the pullout couch, half asleep, partially tipsy, and attempting to shuffle cards against humanity.

"Mhmm. We should go on silly little dates more often," Jiahui mumbled, tucked into Sobeknesef's side. Valerian, whom was splayed over both of their laps, hummed in agreement, "I do miss our little chaos gremlin though."

Caladin seemed to instantly grow misty eyed, "My baby.... she's so tiny. What am I going to do when she gets bigger??? How can I throw out her little baby shoes or clothes???"

"Cal, don't start," Sobeknesef chuckled, running a hand through the blonde's hair to calm him down. Caladin made a sad little noise, leaning his head against his partner's shoulder.

"You're such a big baby when you're drunk," Valerian snorted fondly, watching in amusement at how Caladin's face scrunched in annoyance.

Jiahui snickered at her partners' antics, "He's not drunk, just ah- pleasantly buzzed?"

The blonde seemed to appreciate this, leaning over and gently placing a kiss against her cheek. This, of course, promptly caused her to burst into metaphorical flames.

As the three men snickered at her reaction, the quiet of the night continued to set in.

Overall, quite the successful date.

---

Was this cohesive at all? No. Did it have plot? Not really.

Have I been obsessed with modern!au polycule? Yes.

Anyways, enjoy the insanity of my return to decent health :3

@uncreative-cryptid

@hobbysognodilibri

@rainbowprisimatic

[airedelalmena]

God I loathe men's summer clothing.

I wouldn't feel comfortable wearing women's, either, or like the way it looked on me, so that's not an option. But it's so beautiful. Always going to be bitter about this lol. All those hats and fun sundresses and different cuts of tops and shorts and one-pieces... The light "wraps"/cardigan sorts of things. Even the most boyish women's summer wear gives Katharine Hepburn elegance IMO.

But men's summer "fashion" just encapsulates everything that sucks about men's clothing, all in one. There's almost no way to make it look good. Shorts are ass. Most t shirts thrown on top of it just feel little-boyish. Tank tops feel like underwear, which they used to be and IMO still are. (Hell, t shirts ALSO used to be underwear, worn under a long sleeved shirt, which is why it was subversive when people started to wear them as anything else.) Last option is better than anything else though. Loose button down t shirt sort of things dress it up.

I would not wear it with a shoe I would not wear it howdy-do I would not wear it up or down I would not wear it in the town

I would not wear it anywhere I would just pull out my own hair

I would not wear it it's a sham I would not wear it Sam I am!!

(takes a bow) (vomits on own shoes)

Going to have to dig for ideas of the way it was done pre idk...pre-1940s? and in different countries pre-westernization (that had hot weather and accommodated for it, so, not long leg coverings)

Some moderate version of hippie-ass "harem pants" (not huge MC Hammer pants in other words), and anything that's in non-dressy, non-crisp linen looking fabrics, will probably work. But then you risk looking like a Yoga Fixes Everything sort of prick lol. I guess relying on the personality not being that way and people picking up on that.

All advice to make it more fashionable just suggests you dress like Richie Rich on a fucking yacht.

Then there's not damaging your skin. Which I care about for health, and yeah to be vain, anti aging. Sun hats (or worse, bucket hats or absolute worst of all, ballcaps) make you look like a tourist in your own city. Also another thing that women benefit so greatly from...summer hats for women look AMAZING, especially pairing it with a sundress. Still trying to figure out a masculine option...I've seen panama hats suggested, though that feels tourist ish still.

HATE the preppiness of white clothing. Khaki/beige even worse. And again the tourist vibes of putting it all together. Black is the hottest, temperature-wise, and having to part with it for summer... this_kills_the_man.jpg. Wearing a version in black really destroys any ultra preppy vibes when it comes to summer wear...I basically look like the Addams Family weirdo that I am with that. I break the rule whenever it's not literally just too sweltering.

I did it the summer before last and will probably do it again...those scarf-weight full-length beach-wrap sort of things that are basically kimono-like and can almost pass as a dress or semi-formalwear. I was closeted for that, but honestly I'll probably do it again in a genderfuck way and say to hell with it and what it does to passability. Idc. I like the look too much. But it's only possible sometimes to handle the dysphoria of actually physically wearing it. Even just in my own room. So. Balance.

Still always going to miss big floppy sun hats...and the way that they don't read as tourist immediately

Eventually going to just do a day or two here and there of full on womenswear, drag, for a summer look, i imagine. but concealing certain things would not be so easy by then so who knows.

Idk. I've sucked it up and dealt with hating the way that I look every summer for easily the past ten years. Function over happiness. That plus surviving my health conditions during the heat. I am so ready to do something more than just look and feel barely-tolerable this year. It's not even funny.

[superlinguo]

Research Data Management. Or, How I made multiple backups and still almost lost my honours thesis.

This is a story I used to tell while teaching fieldworkers and other researchers about how to manage their data. It’s a moderately improbable story, but it happened to me and others have benefited from my misadventures. I haven't had reason to tell it much lately, and I thought it might be useful to put into writing. This is a story from before cloud storage was common - back when you could, and often would, run out of online email storage space. Content note: this story includes some unpleasant things that happened to me, including multiple stories of theft (cf. moderately improbable). Also, because it's stressful for most of the story, I want to reassure you that it does have a happy conclusion. It explains a lot of my enthusiasm for good research data management. In Australia, 'honours' is an optional fourth year for a three year degree. It's a chance to do some more advanced coursework and try your hand at research, with a small thesis project. Of course, it doesn't feel small when it's the first time you've done a project that takes a whole year and is five times bigger than anything you’ve ever written. I've written briefly about my honours story (here, and here in a longer post about my late honours supervisor Barb Kelly) . While I did finish my project, it all ended a bit weirdly when my supervisor Barb got ill and left during the analysis/writing crunch. The year after finishing honours I got an office job. I hoped to maybe do something more with my honours work, but I wasn't sure what, and figured I would wait until Barb was better. During that year, my sharehouse flat was broken into and the thief walked out with the laptop I'd used to do my honours project. The computer had all my university files on it, including my data and the Word version of my thesis. I lost interview video files, transcriptions, drafts, notes and everything except the PDF version I had uploaded to the University's online portal. Uploading was optional at the time, if I didn't do that I probably would have just been left with a single printed copy. I also lost all my jewellery and my brother’s base guitar, but I was most sad about the data (sorry bro). Thankfully, I made a backup of my data and files on a USB drive that I kept in my handbag. This was back when a 4GB thumb drive was an investment. That Friday, feeling sorry for myself after losing so many things I couldn't replace, I decided to go dancing to cheer myself up. While out with a group of friends, my bag was stolen. It was the first time I had a nice handbag, and I still miss it. Thankfully, I knew to make more than one back up. I had an older USB that I'd tucked down the back of the books on my shelf (a vintage 256MB drive my dad kindly got for me in undergrad after a very bad week when I lost an essay to a corrupted floppy disk). When I went to retrieve the files, the drive was (also) corrupted. This happens with hard drives sometimes. My three different copies in three different locations were now lost to me.

Thankfully, my computer had a CD/DVD burner. This was a very cool feature in the mid-tens, and I used to make a lot of mixed CDs for my friends. During my honours project I had burned backed up files on some discs and left them at my parents house. It was this third backup, kept off site, which became the only copy of my project. I very quickly made more copies. When Barb was back at work, and I rejoined her as a PhD student, it meant we could return to the data and all my notes. The thesis went through a complete rewrite and many years later was published as a journal article (Gawne & Kelly 2014). It would have probably never happened if I didn’t have those project files. I continued with the same cautious approach to my research data ever since, including sending home SD cards while on field trips, making use of online storage, and archiving data with institutional repositories while a project is ongoing.

I’m glad that I made enough copies that I learnt a good lesson from a terrible series of events. Hopefully this will prompt you, too, to think about how many copies you have, where they’re located, and what would happen if you lost access to your online storage.

[rabbitcruiser]

National Stay Out of the Sun Day

From carcinomas to sun burns to wrinkles, avoid the negative effects of the sun by staying indoors or in the shade, or investing in a sun shading hat or parasol.

Everybody loves a sunny day, but in the height of summer it’s easy to get dehydrated, sunburnt and worse. Stay Out Of The Sun Day is about looking after yourself by taking a day away from the sun and finding some nice, relaxing shade – and if you are out and about, make sure you’ve got sun cream, plenty of water and some shade!

Learn about Stay Out Of The Sun Day

Do you consider yourself a bit of a sun worshipper? Well, it’s time to have a day off! Stay Out Of The Sun Day is the perfect chance for you to stay indoors and shield yourself from the UV rays.

This day is about giving our skin a break from the sweltering heat. If you simply cannot resist going outside, then you can always find a nice bit of shade, yet make sure you wear sunscreen and make an extra effort to protect your skin. That is what this day is really about.

Moderate exposure to the sun can provide you with a natural and healthy dose of Vitamin D. However, if you end up spending too much time in the sun, this can result in skin damage. This can speed up the ageing process, which we’re sure no one wants!

Plus, there are also links between too much sun exposure and skin cancer, which is why it is so important to make sure you educate yourself and protect yourself when sunbathing. Use Stay Out Of The Sun Day to educate others as well. After all, if you reach just one person, you could actually end up making a difference.

History of Stay Out Of The Sun Day

When you consider the fact that there have been scientific studies into the link between skin cancer and the sun, it is of no surprise that someone decided to create a Stay Out Of The Sun Day in order to encourage people to protect their skin. Skin cancer is the second most common type of cancer for those between the ages of 15-years-old and 29-years-old. Staying out of the sun is the best way to protect your skin.

Nevertheless, we can also use Stay Out Of The Sun Day as a day of education. You can find out more about the damage the sun can cause, as well as the different steps that you can take to ensure you still experience the benefits of the sun but that you protect yourself at the same time. Make sure you share your findings with other people to encourage them to be safer while they are in the sun too.

How to observe Stay Out Of The Sun Day

There are so many different things that you can do to celebrate Stay Out Of The Sun Day. You could decide to spend your day participating in other activities that are good for your health. For example, rather than spending all day in the sunshine, why not hit the gym instead?

This is a great act of self-care, and it will ensure you’re out of the sun, even if it is for one day only. Of course, you could take a dance class or partake in any other sort of exercise.

What about if the sun is shining in your area and you don’t get many sunny days? We understand if you would want to make the most of a situation like this. However, you can still enjoy the sun and the great outdoors while ensuring you are not directly beneath it.

Instead, why not find your nearest willow and try to take cover underneath it? You can enjoy a moment to relax, taking in all of the beautiful nature around you. You can even get stuck into a good book!

If you are going to be taking a trip to the beach on Stay Out Of The Sun Day, please make sure that you are extra careful. There are many different ways that you can do this. Staying hydrated is, of course, the number one rule! Aside from this, you need to make sure that you lather yourself in sunscreen, and we mean a high factor sunscreen!

You can also throw on your favorite floppy hat and hoist an umbrella into the sand to make sure that you have plenty of protection while still enjoying a fun day at the beach.

If you are not desperate to go outside, then you can use Stay Out Of The Sun Day as the perfect excuse for you to kick back and enjoy the great indoors! A lot of people love nothing more than chilling on the sofa and watching their favorite TV series or enjoying a movie marathon.

With Stay Out Of The Sun Day, you have the perfect excuse to do this and you do not need to feel guilty about having a bit of a lazy day. After all, we all deserve time to relax and wind down from time-to-time.

If you are going to be staying indoors, why not use this time to watch a television show based on the sun or a movie? There are a lot of different classic films with ‘sun’ in the title. This includes A Place in the Sun, Little Miss Sunshine, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Empire of the Sun, and Tears of the Sun. Some of the different shows that you could watch include Shahs of Sunset, Sunset Beach, Sunshine, 3rd Rock from the Sun, and It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia, although we do not recommend watching the latter with young viewers. Or, why not listen to a bit of music? KC and the Sunshine Band is the obvious choice that comes to mind here!

If you do have children, you can spend the day doing some sun crafts. All you need to do is a bit of digging online and you will see that there are so many different fun and exciting craft projects that you can work on with your children in honor of this day.

This includes sunshine watches, suncatchers, and much more! Make sure you use this as an opportunity to educate your children about the sun as well. You can teach them about the science behind the sun, as well as informing them of why it is important to protect yourself from the sun’s rays and the different ways that this can be achieved.

Source

[venusararara]

"YOU REPENT LIKE A BITCH!"

Seraphim Gatherine "Serra" AU :)

She's 5'5, a full foot shorter than Gatherine, and significantly weaker. No horns or floppy ears, just wings on her head. She doesn't know how to have fun. Her only friend is Stacy, whom she is desperately in love and obsessed with. Mean.

Click 4 lore dump!!

tw trauma

[She is hermaphroditic, but instead has male and female seraphimical parts (i.e. headwings and eyespots, born-male features for seraphims). Genderfluid.]

Gathery Okkers [lovingly referred to as "Serra" by young angels and demons] was raised in Infernum with Stacy Aurobo, much like her non-AU counterpart. She's often cranky, sardonic, snarky, and protective; but has a good sense of humor and laughs a lot. Gathery is only nice to Stacy; they become girlfriends when they're around 16.

She frequently attacked other kids in school for threatening Stacy; this was despite knowing she was likely to get injuries, especially from young demons. Gathery is good with a sharp weapon, but clumsy. She's had a lot of knife and sword accidents, leaving her covered in scars. Her mom is mostly absent, leading her to be raised by the schooling system; this is normal for angels and seraphims, though. Gathery falls into a bad crowd in high school that's heavily involved in Aeriasissam, a cult-esque religion [the nun likeness is completely coincidental. They do value purity and abstinence; but also value violence]. They purposely seperate her from Stacy and other outside influences, until she eventually disappears completely.

Years later, Gathery is found half-dead outside of Stacy's foster home. Though her personality has left some resemblance to her teenage self, it's mostly replaced with self-loathing and moderate disgust. After recovery, Stacy discovers she's nothing but a shadow of her childhood best friend. She promises to bring her back to her former glory and teach her how to live again.

She's very strict, cold, callous, and serious. She has a constant feeling of being unclean. Gathery doesn't like taking her clothes off or being nude in the slightest. Her comfort clothes are her nun-esque robes, and she frequently wears hats.

Stacy brings Gathery to Valhallia with her; they both pass the entry exam with flying colors. Gathery is under surveillance for a few days because of her record of violence as a youth, but she's quickly released when it's decided that she's under Stacy's protection [special treatment due to being Arians' daughter]. She's developed a heavy case of agoraphobia and struggles to leave Stacy's house. She didn't get to finish high school because of the cult. Stacy climbs the ladder of politics through demon activism until she's seraphim supreme, and puts Gathery at the side of her throne. Sal is introduced and taken under Stacy's wing; he helps get Gathery out of her shell.